#indulged in his snark and banter

[soradragon]

Don't Trust Anyone

Warnings: Angst, mentions of Astarion's past, mentions of his scars and past abuse

Astarion x GN! Tav

summary: "Don't trust anyone." It's a mantra he repeats to himself. Because trusting will end up with him back in Cazador's hands. And Astarion will do anything to prevent that from happening. He just didn't expect to get attached to the company's goodie-two-shoes leader.

~~~~~~

“Don’t trust anyone.” He’s been muttering this sentence at night again and again to himself for as long as he can afford to remember. Thinking back any further and his back will begin to ache. Or more specifically, those horrid brandings that had been slowly, meticulously yet somehow still messily carved into his back. He can still hear his own agonizing, throat burning screams ringing in his ears of that night if he thinks too much about it. A twisted memento to remind him that trusting someone…anyone at all, will make him end up like that once more…

“Don’t trust anyone…”

…

Staring at their ‘leader’ of their ragtag group of misfits from a slight distance makes Astarion scowl, if not want to gag - if he had any contents to empty his stomach with. 

Of course he had to end up joining a goody-two-shoes who ‘aids anyone in need’ after finally escaping the cruel strings of his master, and not by the help of anyone,  but squid-like aliens who held out a hand not so much to give aid as to create a newborn of their own species from his own very hide. Astarion doesn’t know which situation is worse, if he thinks about it…

Remaining an obedient spawn to his master, turning into an ugly brain-eating squid, or being forced to watch and begrudgingly join this company’s leader need to be hero to everyone in need.

…

Where were they when he needed them most? When he begged to any god and goddess for one? Why help others when none had helped him? The thought makes him sick.

Let them all suffer the way he had for all he cares. Let them face the reality that no one cares for them if they can't offer the right price. Let them open their eyes that the only thing they can trust in is themselves and the pain the lashes will give their body.

“Don’t trust anyone.”

After watching Tav go above and beyond for everyone - even providing gale with useful enchanted artifacts to absorb for godssake - and have them stand up for him when everyone found out about his vampiric condition, a little plan formed inside Astarion’s mind.

At least there’s one use to that goody-two-shoes leader of their party and that is that they're easy to manipulate. If they end up caring enough about him to want to protect him, he won’t have to worry about the others trying to kick him out. Because what their ‘heroic leader’ says goes. 

All Astarion will have to do is make them fall, which is a feat easy enough to accomplish. He’s been doing it for over two hundred years. And it’s obvious they got an interest in his body…Carnal desires, that’s easy enough to provide.

His nice and simple plan is practically already in motion with the way they hang onto Astarion’s practiced, honey coated purrs. The only thing Astarion will need to do, is give them a little nudge.

Lo and behold, their dear leader Tav was all too happy to indulge in their carnal desires. Soon enough he’ll have this naive little thing in the palm of his hand. A perfect shield to protect him from Cazador. A perfect sacrifice for his freedom. A delicious little snack to keep him fed when there’s no enemies to feed on. A body to keep his cold one warm

…

“…Don’t trust anyone…”

Astarion is disappointed to - yet never would say it out loud - admit that he’s getting used to Tav’s goody goody behavior. They’re…Not all that bad…putting that infuriating behavior aside. There may be some good qualities to them yet. 

And the way they smile at and joke with him. Smirking slightly at his snarking remarks and openly joining in on the banter, it’s…refreshing…to be taken seriously and have someone listen and care…

“…Don’t trust anyone…”

Who knew Tav could be so expressive? The little twitches in their eyes and lips, the micro expressions...Who knew there’s so much behind their eyes? Who knew that he would feel comfortable and secure with Tav covering him in battle? 

Who knew…That Astarion’s been getting more genuine with his actions and words of concern for their well being?

Karlach mentioned he’s been looking at Tav often…she understands wrong, of course. Why in the nine hells would he look at Tav with eyes begging for them to look back? Looking at them as if they hung the stars into the sky itself, as if they are the one that brings rise to the sun every morning. Please, Astarion doesn’t care. Caring-....trust in others is what led him to that night full of agonizing, throat burning screams.

…

Karlach never mentioned that he looks at them with adoration…

…

”…Don’t…Don’t you dare trust anyone.”

Astarion feels his undead heart clench. His throat is dry. He feels sick. Afraid.

What is he supposed to do? What is he feeling? Why isn’t his survival and freedom the only thing he prioritizes anymore? Why is the thought of Tav as his shield so unsatisfying to think about? The thought of them hurt, hurts him...Why?

Astarion longs for their touch. Longs for their eyes to gaze at him with a smile like a man longs for oxygen when having drowned. He gets angry whenever an enemy spills Tav’s precious life blood. It belongs inside them or in his mouth, being tasted with his tongue. Not on the wasteful, dirty ground. He longs to keep Tav safe by any means necessary, and it scares him.

But the thought of Tav finding out he’s been lying…deceiving…manipulating and playing with their feelings terrifies him the most.

…

“…don’t…don’t…trust…anyone…” This sentence was something that Astarion has been muttering to himself for ages. For as long as he can afford to remember. Thinking back any further and his back will begin to ache. The agonizing, throat burning screams that had been ripped from his throat that night will ring in his ears. It’s supposed to be a reminder to why he can’t trust anyone.

…

But Tav has wormed their way into his dead heart. Their warm hands touch him with such care like a healing balm. Their eyes so soft and full of adoration towards him. Their lips…oh gods their lips…like a drug to his bloodstream. He wants them.  Gods, what a fool he is. 

Such  a simple plan he had. And all he had to do, the only fucking thing he had to do was not fall.

…

“…Don’t-…ah…fuck…”

[lucky-bishop]

But what are your Steter thoughts about the wild hunt?! 💚💚

I had a fucking essay written and then tumblr deleted it. I'm mad. Let's try this again. Also damn y'all are really getting after it with the great questions today. 💖 Thanks for indulging me in never shutting the fuck up about Steter haha.

Peter's ultimate goal in the series is to survive and live unafraid. Power is definitely his secondary goal but it is to enable that first one. He spends time trapped - in his coma, in Eichen, and ultimately the wild hunt. It is no coincidence that Stiles is the one to 'wake' him in the train station - they are connected.

Peter asks Stiles if he wants the bite, then respects his decision even though he believes Stiles is lying. That's huge. Peter's a manipulator and a liar and he likes to play god but he respects Stiles' decision. Even though it means Stiles kills him not long after.

Peter is also the one to tell Stiles Derek's story about Paige. Now this is a great episode of the show - it is told from Gerard and Peter's perspectives. Two liars, killers, people we know we cannot trust but their version of the truth is the version we get. The way that Peter presents himself in this story is interesting - he is trying to influence Stiles' opinion of him. They spend the rest of this time snarking and bantering. It's great.

But that's it: a bit of respect (maybe even fear) and banter between them. Then Peter (helps) save Stiles from the nogitsune - while asking for nothing in return for the first time in the show. He even says the line about narcissistic teenage girls when he 'helps' Lydia and Allison. But Stiles is different for him. They are connected. Still. Again.

When Peter sees Stiles - truly - in the train station, what does he say? It had to be you. He says this derisively - not because he doesn't respect Stiles, but because if Stiles is in here then it means he's not out there and Stiles out there, working on this whole thing, is his best chance at survival. Seeing Stiles cements Peter's belief that he will not be saved or escape his imprisonment this time. He won't live freely, and that terrifies him. But on the other side - seeing Peter is what gives Stiles hope. Even though Peter is still manipulative Stiles wants to work with him. Let me repeat that: Stiles "Paranoia" Stilinski wants to work with him. Maybe it's not trust, yet, but it's the potential for it and that's huge.

And when Peter gets out? He works to rescue Stiles. Even though he just died. Again. Their fates are connected. They are connected. They have so much potential.

They are enemies they are reluctant allies they are snarky and mean to everyone around them. They are dogs circling each other trying to figure out if it's safe to interact. They have saved each other they will always save each other they have put each other in mortal danger they will always want to kill each other and take each other apart. And I fucking love it. Plus the touch and look dynamics in the train episode (once you brighten it enough to see them) are fucking insane.

[hey-august]

I'll Be Your Whatever - Chapter 2

Story Description: Life is full of all sorts of characters - some who come and go, and others that stay. After propelling yourself into a lie you can't (won't) take back, a certain pirate captain may have a reason to come by more often. (Chapter 1) Word count: ~1.9k Warnings: SFW, some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader. No use of Y/N. A/N: Fake dating is one of my favorite romance tropes, but I have a few other classic tropes in mind for future chapters... Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @ane5e

The title comes from "your whatever" by lovelytheband.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Days later and you were still wallowing in the hole you dug, which had been reinforced with pity. Self-care turned into avoidance as you stayed home and indulged in unnecessary excuses.

You did leave one morning to purchase a few groceries from the corner shop, but the background chatter and voices took the forefront of your attention. A weight sat on your chest as you worried that you would have to talk about a relationship you knew nothing about. After the outing, you decided to remain inside and come up with an excavation plan. 

You passed the time by painting and completing commissions, while hoping your creative muses would help concoct a narrative that would finish off this chapter you were suffering through. Unfortunately, their jurisdiction didn’t extend that far and you were on your own.

The only story you could draft involved a recent break-up. You didn’t recall seeing the pirate clown around town often. It seemed unlikely he would show up again, so ending the relationship could explain his absence. While you wouldn’t have to continue living a fictional life, you were certain that Reeves and Bolsti would try to use this short tale to their advantage and come up with more awful one-liners that would fizzle instead of flatter.

These thoughts looped in your mind, trudging along a worn path that always ended in the same place. The monotonous thinking occupied more than half of your mind, while the remainder was used for the few activities it could manage - cooking, eating, sleeping, and painting. 

One afternoon, a series of knocks at the front door abruptly paused the repeating thoughts. You hesitated on the other side of the door. Without a peephole or nearby windows at eye level to peek through, you settled for pressing your ear against the wood to listen for clues about who was on the other side. Or at least figure out who it wasn’t.

You couldn't hear anything. No voices, no chatter, no banter. Whoever was outside rapped on the door again, managing to bang their fist on the exact opposite side of your head. The loud reverberations bounced in your skull aggressively.

Annoyed with the unintentional gift from the unsolicited visitor, you swung the door open and prepared to berate them from pulling you away from important work (leaving out that the “important work” was hiding from your problems). The angry spark died at the sight of the seafarer in front of you. You barely had a moment to register the double layer of fake smiles on his face before slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck,” you said to yourself in a hollow voice. You had been afraid that your problems would come find you, but you didn’t believe that they actually would.

“I think that’s my line,” Buggy snarked as he re-opened the door. He still wore two smiles - one that was tightlipped and forced underneath his usual painted one.

“N-no, no you shouldn’t be here. You have to go.” The words stumbled out of your mouth, as clumsy and confused as the rest of you. 

You still had a hand on the door, and while any attempts to close it were not obeyed by your body, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Not only was the pirate larger than you, he had already stepped inside.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I even brought you flowers.”

You ignored the condescending pet name and focused on the bouquet daisies he held. They looked so out of place that you knew this was real. There was a pirate captain standing in your entryway. An entryway that felt cramped now that it was filled with his large presence. The man standing in your home had a big hat with blue tassels, ocean-colored eyes, a red nose, face paint, stubble, a long jacket, gloves, and a bundle of white daisies. Even the muses couldn’t come up with a sight like this.

“Why? What are you doing here? How did you even get here?” Although you accepted the fact that Buggy was truly in front of you, there were still too many mysteries to ignore.

Buggy rolled his eyes and pushed the flowers towards you again, their silly little heads bobbing as he motioned for you to take them. You accepted the offering, unable to ignore how nice the bouquet was. The daisies were full of life, wrapped in a bit of paper, and tied with a red ribbon.

“This is nice…did you actually buy it?”

“Sure.” Buggy’s cocky grin wasn’t enough protection against the sharp stare you threw his way. “Fine, yeah. I thought it looked nice.”

You nodded silently for a moment, looking past his scowl. A little petal stuck on his fluffy lapel caught your attention. You reached out, only for Buggy to pull away.

“It’s just a petal,” you commented, before plucking it off his coat and letting it flutter to the ground where it landed on the green carpet. “I’m surprised, you managed to get my favorite flower.”

Maybe it was because you hadn’t been outside in the fresh air for a while, but you couldn’t stop admiring the happy flowers. You turned around to grab a vase from the kitchen and Buggy followed you down the hallway. His bootsteps deepened when he stepped off the carpet and onto the wood floor.

“That probably explains why those shop people told me where you live,” he commented as his eyes drifted around.

You stopped short and the pirate plowed into you. He grabbed your shoulders, trying to keep you both from toppling over. A forceful shrug relieved his grip and you spun around. There were too many feelings and thoughts bubbling inside and your face couldn’t decide which one it wanted to emote. Shock or betrayal? Surprise? Maybe fear? Resignation? And anger, but how much?

Buggy bit his tongue. Your rolodex of emotions was the best thing he had seen all day, but laughing in your face was not part of his plan.

“They did give me a hard time. Actually, I waited outside of that damn store for hours. I thought you would show up at some point, but you didn’t. I must have looked like I got stood up.” Buggy paused and took a breath. He was trying to comfort you, not berate you. “Eventually I demanded they tell me where I could find you. Obviously they were convinced with one look at your handsome ‘boyfriend,’ or whatever, holding your favorite flowers.”

His monologue ended with a flourish of his hands, waggling eyebrows, and a laugh bursting from your mouth. There was only one store he knew you'd probably visit, so he must have been talking about Mr. Inslo or his husband. Neither of them would have given in so easily, especially if a loud, boisterous pirate stomped around the shop demanding information, like a greedy kid in a toy store. Imagining that scene unfolding in front of an innocent bystander brought tears to your eyes. Your recent isolation magnified the humor and you indulged in the levity. Satisfied with that explanation for the time being, you wiped away the joyful tears and finally made your way to the kitchen. 

Buggy leaned against the doorway, which creaked under the weight. He watched you make quick work of rehoming your flowers while periodically stifling a giggle as you replayed his story.

At first he was irked at how hard you laughed at his very true story, but the glimmer in your watery eyes and speckled flush on your cheeks smothered the small fire in Buggy's chest. Laughter is like music to a clown’s ears, after all. At one point, you locked eyes with him and it brought out another fit of wheezing laughter - one he couldn’t resist joining with a chuckle. Your infectious giddiness was becoming it’s own amusing performance.

You finally calmed down as you tied the red ribbon around the glass vase with a delicate touch. A ribbon that Buggy chose himself. The florist forced him to pick, so it wasn’t anything special, but seeing how you treated it with care made Buggy feel strange. Uncomfortable. He needed a distraction.

“The shop owner told me to drop this off,” he blurted while pulling out a very small brown package from a coat pocket.

You took the item and unwrapped it to reveal a single watercolor pan. It was a special order that you meant to pick up a few days ago, but you forgot when your self-imposed shitty solitary confinement began. Normally, new art supplies would fill your heart with glitter, but this felt like you spilt ink in your chest.

You swiped a few drops of water from the vase and rubbed your finger on the paint. It didn’t take long for the block to soak up the moisture and release some pigment. You dragged your finger along the paper the daisies came wrapped in. The color was impressive and lush, the hues swirled and shifted in the water. Buggy looked up - your eyes contained the same shimming colors but there also was excess water threatening escape.

“Wrong one?”

“No…I just meant to pick it up a few days ago.”

Buggy knew your statement was true - the shop owner told him the same thing - but you were telling a half-lie. The pirate clown was also skilled in using select phrases to hide feelings. Something else put a morose look on your face. Something related, and Buggy could guess what it was.

“Right, since you’ve been staying inside like a creepy recluse and avoiding everyone because you created a biiig fucking problem and don’t know how to get yourself out of this shit-tastic situation?” The eyes that held joyful tears not long ago now looked at Buggy with despair. 

You nodded. It was harsh, but that seems to be how he talks. And, honestly, you needed to hear it put bluntly like that. You were soft with yourself - making excuses, sugar coating your concerns, running away when you could.

“Let me help. We can make a deal and this whole problem will go away, I promise.” Buggy finally exposed the reason he came by. He hoped he didn’t screw up the plan before this point. Each beat of his heart echoed in his skull and he was beginning to worry that you could hear it too.

Instead, all you could hear was a small voice inside you which was relieved to hear what Buggy had to say. It knew that was the only reason he’d be on your doorstep and felt vindicated hearing the truth. The voice was also irrational, because it was telling you to accept his offer. If the irrational little voice was right the first time, then it’ll be right again. Clearly, the pirate wanted the treasure map you mentioned last time. He was desperate enough to buy flowers, but not to knock you out and ransack your home, or worse. 

And even though you knew Buggy was offering an empty promise, it gave you a glimmer of hope. If he was willing to go through all the things he did to find you - to find the map - then maybe he meant some part of it.

“Okay…yes. But there need to be rules.”

The twinkle in Buggy’s eyes flickered and his smile bordered on the edge of a grimace, but he held it in place.

“Of course,” he muttered before turning up the charm and continuing, “Of course! A contract, right? I’m sure we could work something out.” He held out a gloved hand, eager to seal the deal.

The shake of your head finally jostled Buggy’s tense grin down into an irritated glare and his body drooped with disappointment. You bit the inside of your lip, trying not to smile at how quickly the intimidating pirate captain turned into a petulant child. It seemed like he wasn’t used to getting his way, which only confirmed you were right to wait.

“Contract first, then we shake.”

[lovelaurs]

MOVIE NIGHT

featuring : mystreet laurance, garroth, katelyn, lucinda x gn reader synopsis : tonight is your weekly annual movie night with your partner! how will the night go in terms of activites? will the two of watch the film or end up too busy being smothered by the other's lips to watch? tags : mature, romance, pre-established relationships, fluff, cuddles, kissing, making out, sharing interests, suggestive (lucinda and katelyn specifically) word count : 3.3k | around 800 words per character! a/n : this started off with me wanting to write more laurance fics, but eventually became multiple drabbles for characters! since i don't see many x readers with the girls, i knew i had to broaden their tags as well, which led me to writing some fun drabbles! this one is for you, sapphics! mwah! - also, i'm afraid to admit the garroth one was far too self indulgent towards my obsession with the film. anyway, hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

LAURANCE

Laurance leaned against your door frame as you gathered your things.

You tended to go a bit extra whenever the two of you had your movie nights. It was not a secret that you like to be snug.

You grabbed your favorite blanket along with your pillow, before grabbing an extra charger, which in turn meant grabbing your phone.

Laurance held back a snicker as he looked at you hold the pile of items in your hands. With the wire tangled up within the blanket, to your phone being placed upon the pillow on top, it truly looked like a scene from a cartoon.

You could barely see in front of you as the pillow covered your vision.

“You uh… need some help there?” He chuckled.

You sighed in defeat, giving a small “yes” before he lifted your pillow and phone from the pile.

As the two of you carefully made your way down the stairs, you eventually flopped onto the couch with a hum, allowing you to cozy up with the blanket.

Laurance sat by your head, causing you to lift yourself up and place your head on his lap.

“Do you even need a pillow when you have me?” He teased.

“Eh, you’re a close second, I’ll give you that.” You snarked back.

Laurance gasped, acting offended by the comment. “How dare you!” What a drama queen. “I’ll have you know that I am much more comfortable to lay on than a pillow!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his act. “If that was the case, you wouldn’t have a dissatisfied customer like me.”

He turned your nose up at you. “Well, I’ll have you know that-”

As this banter seemed to continue on more than you would like, you grabbed the pillow he had placed beside him before you tossed it in his face. 

“Can we just watch a movie already?”

He puffed his cheeks with a pout, looking down at you trying to make you feel guilty. But, after a minute of a stare down between the two of you, he just sighed and reached for the remote.

“Okay, okay, you win.” He looked at the Netflix catalog before turning back to you. “So, what do you want to watch?”

You took a second to think, watching as he scrolled on the ‘For You’ tab.

It wasn’t until something caught your eye that you leaned up quickly, banging your head into Laurance’s chin, yelling, “Knives Out!”

Laurance gripped his chin in pain as you held your head, the both of you feeling the ache from the action.

Before you could fully process what happened, Laurance, with his eyes squeezed shut in pain, kissed your aching head as if to soothe the pain.

You smiled with a wince, turning around and kissing Laurance on his chin, apologizing repeatedly for hurting him.

He couldn’t help himself from laughing at the whole scenario, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer so he could plant soft kisses against your forehead. 

“You’re so goofy, you know that?” He chuckled in between kisses.

You lightly pushed him away jokingly before laying on his lap again. He playfully frowned as you moved away from his affection.

He began wiping away fake tears. “I guess you don’t want to experience love, joy, and whimsy. Okay, I get it.” 

You lightly hit him with the pillow again, giggling. “I love you, Laurance, but please stop the act so we can watch a movie already.” 

“Fine.” He sighed as he grabbed the remote. “So… Knives Out, huh?” You nodded as you looked up at him.

As he searched up the movie and pressed play, Laurance couldn’t help but gasp at every major actor/actress that appeared on screen.

“Oh my Irene- Daniel Craig? Ana De Armas? The kid from IT? How many famous people did they get in this film?!”

You tugged on his sleeve as he kept guffawing at every appearance. “Laurance, please. It’s a netflix film, of course there’s going to be actors you know in it.” “I know, I know. I can’t help but just get surprised when- wait, they hired Jamie Lee Curtis for this?!” He proceeded to boo loudly at the screen as she appeared.

Annoyed by the constant comments from your boyfriend, you leaned up off his lap and kissed him, shutting the brunette up immediately. He didn’t even argue at the action and simply melted into the kiss, pulling you closer. 

He cupped his hand behind your head, protecting your head as you began to fall against the back of the couch, Laurance now hovering over you.

You light pushed against his chest, making him pull back and look at you with eyes glazed over with love.

You breathed heavily, trying to take in the air you were missing mere seconds ago.“Do you want to watch the movie or not, Laurance?” 

He smirked as he tilted your chin up. “Honestly? I’d rather watch you all evening.”

And with that, he dived back down and continued to kiss you.

The two of you won’t be finding out who the culprit was in Knives Out any time soon.

GARROTH

You knew what to expect at this point.

As Garroth hounded you into another room as he set up the surprise movie, you wondered what film it would be this time.

First clue you had was that it was definitely an animated film, seeing as Garroth often looked to escape reality within hand-crafted movies.

But that was simply it, no other hints besides being animated. Which, thinking about just how many cartoon films there were, really didn’t narrow it down for you.

You had nothing against animated movies, so really this was just a fun little surprise watch that you two would have every other week (when he was in charge of the movie).

Garroth had been building up to this movie every week since you started this weekly routine. He had put it off initially to get you excited for it as the weeks passed by, and finally, this was the day. 

You heard him scramble about the living room, whispering to himself as he set the movie up. You heard the click of buttons, the creaking of the floorboards, and the fluffing of some pillows before finally being let into the room.

This man had set up the area with all sorts of snacks and blankets, and most notably; a heap of pillows. Your eyebrows raised as you looked at the setup with a mix of confusion, but most importantly; excitement.

Garroth always loved to tell you all about his favorite movies or series, going into in-depth conversations about the background history behind it all and more.

This is something you loved about the blonde.

He loved to show you his interests, unafraid of expressing his love for it in every way, and you simply adored it. Watching him get excited and giddy over his favorite things was just absolutely adorable to see. 

Of course, he would reciprocate the action and strongly listen whenever you would speak about your favorite things as well. His eyebrows furrowed as he kicked his legs back and forth, listening to you share your interest with a passion.

That’s the thing with your relationship; with both of you so interested in what the other has to say, it made for the perfect connection between you two. Sharing your interests was simply a love language the two of you had created during your time together.

As you plopped yourself on the couch, Garroth rushed over, sliding next to you on the sofa. He tossed your favorite blanket over both of you before passing you the bowl full of popcorn.

You smiled as you looked from the bowl to your boyfriend. “Someone seems prepared.”

He turned to you grinning from ear to ear. “So? Are you excited?!”

You nodded, smiling at just how adorable he looked. With his blonde curls flopping up and down as he bobbed with excitement. You could barely respond as you looked into his shining cerulean eyes.

He was everything.

He draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer, before reaching to press play on the remote.

The way his eyes shined from the light of the screen was simply awe inspiring.

As the film opened up, a strange sense of deja vu filled your mind. Hadn’t you seen these opening credits before?

You turned to look at Garroth, raising your eyebrows in question, but he only responded with a wide grin. He had something up his sleeve, it seemed.

As you pressed play, it was only a matter of time before your eyes were met with the sight of the sun.

With a big headed blue alien falling from the sky.

You turned to look at Garroth with a smirk only to find him leaning on his palm looking at you expectantly.

“Well?”

“Garroth, we’re like two minutes into the movie.” You giggled. “You can’t exactly get my reaction just yet.”

He pulled you in by your waist, hiding his face in your neck. “Oh come on! I need to know!”

You giggled as you felt the scruff of his beard graze your neck.

“G-Garroth! I can’t focus on the movie like this!” He started to plant little kisses on your neck, keeping you distracted from watching the awesome, amazing, fantastic movie that is ‘Megamind’; the 2010 animated Dreamworks film.

He pulled you onto his lap, and proceeded to tickle you on both sides of your abdomen.

“I know I planned on having you watch one of my favorite movies… but Irene, is your smile infectious!” He chuckled. “I just can’t get enough of it!”

After countless minutes of pushing and pulling, you eventually were able to push his hands away, convincing him to let you watch the movie as you sat on his lap.

By the end of the film, he had already begun nodding off with a huge grin plastered on his face.

The two of you ended up falling asleep on the couch as the credits rolled, cuddled up on the couch, covered by your favorite blanket.

As Garroth began to stir, he awoke to you in his arms. He smiled as he let his head rest on your head, pulling you closer to him. He couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth you radiated.

The both of you ended up sleeping through the rest of the night huddled together.

KATELYN

As you finally finish setting up the snacks and drinks for your annual movie night, your girlfriend, Katelyn, seems to be struggling to find a movie from the endless catalog.

She groaned as she laid her head against the arm of the coach, aimlessly scrolling through the ‘Featured Movies’ tab on Hulu. 

“Have you found a movie yet?” You called from the kitchen, bringing over the trays with the assortment of goodies stacked upon them.

As you placed them on the ottoman in front of you, Katelyn swiftly picked up a handful of popcorn and stuffed it in her mouth.

“No, not yet.” She responded, the sentence muffled as she chewed the popcorn. She swallowed before pressing the arrows on the remote again and again, seemingly looking for anything of interest. “Ugh, there’s nothing interesting to watch on here! Either it’s too sappy, too long, or just straight to streaming movies!”

You flopped onto the couch next to her, offering your hand out to take the remote from her and look for yourself, in which she obliged.

Within minutes, you were stuck in the same endless mountains of titles that she was in, movie after movie not catching your eye in any way, shape, or form.

You eventually went to lay your head on her thighs, continuing to scroll, occasionally reading titles aloud as you went along.

“Vacation Friends?” “Too commercial,” Katelyn replied. “I need something different.” You scrolled once more, landing on another movie.

She started to play with your hair as you let your cheek squish against her thigh. “How about The Valet?” You asked, looking up at her.

“Too long! Plus it’s a comedy romance from goddamn Hulu, it has no chance.”

After scrolling for about five more minutes, you hovered upon another movie.

“How about this one-” “Nope!”

You leaned up, raising your head from her lap and pouting. “If you keep this up, we’ll never find a movie to watch tonight!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault Hulu’s movie selection is utter garbage!”

The two of you only had Hulu for its shows; Brooklyn-Nine-Nine, Futurama, etc, so really it was a rare occasion whenever the two of you would find something on here that you’d both enjoy. Of course, you don’t have any other streaming services, so your options are limited.

That’s when it hit you.

“How about we use a pirate site?”

And with that, Katelyn pulled you in, peppering kisses along your cheek. “You know me so well, Sweetheart.” In which she tilted you backwards, allowing you to rest fully across her lap, giving her ample space to continue playing with your hair. 

Within a few minutes, you screenshared your iPhone to the TV, allowing you to browse the site with easy viewing.

As you scrolled through the ‘New Arrivals’ page on the site, it wasn’t long before the two of you spotted the same movie, looking at each other with a nod.

That was when the two of you began to watch ‘Bottoms’.

Of course, a satirical comedy based around girls who kiss each other would be a top choice for the evening. Straight romances were far too overrated.

The two of you tended to watch the movies you chose uninterrupted, but on rare occasions where the two of you crave affection, you’d end up cuddling so much that you’d miss the second half of the film.

This seemed to be one of those nights, as during the scene where they blew up the football player’s car, Katelyn hoisted you up to sit on her lap.

Their kiss getting interrupted by the explosion seemed to annoy her, to which she found a better solution: you.

She squeezed your hips as she began to plant soft kisses along your neck, causing you to giggle.

“K-Katelyn! Pfft- what are you doing?”

She smirked, letting her hot breath hover over your neck. “Doing what I’ve been waiting for all night.” 

She let herself wander up your neck, and across your cheek, before finally resting on your very own lips. She pulled you closer as she passionately kissed you, biting at your lip and seeking entrance almost immediately.

You pulled back to take a breath, your cheeks tinted. “Someone’s getting impatient I assume?” You teased.

Katelyn then tightened the grip on your hips, causing you to squeak. 

She giggled, “That’s one hell of an assumption, I’ll tell ya’.” Before pulling you in for yet another kiss. 

Out of nowhere she pulled your legs apart, allowing you to straddle her on the couch. 

As Katelyn kept fighting for dominance, which frankly wasn’t that hard since you weren’t trying, you let your own hands wander around her neck, looping behind her to pull her closer.

“What was that about me being impatient?” She chuckled, before heading back in to bruise your lips for the rest of the evening.

That was when her leg moved between yours, causing you to practically yelp.

“How about we take this upstairs, alright?”

All it took was a single nod before she hoisted you into her arms and began towards the stairs.

This was going to be a long night.

LUCINDA

It was no surprise to you that your girlfriend would pick a horror movie.

She pretended at first that she didn’t know what to watch, asking for any ideas from you while knowing you wouldn’t have any.

That’s when she quickly clicked onto on demand, rented a movie, and pressed play within a matter of minutes.

“Hey, babe, I rented out a movie for us!” She smiled as she shook your leg with her hand to get your attention.

You had been pretending to scroll through your phone as she looked around, when in reality your eyes were looking just above the top of your phone to watch her make a b-line towards the film she had so clearly planned to watch from the start.

The fact that she rented it before asking you in the first place was just another sign of her devious plan.

You could tell from the sinister smile that she had ulterior motives.

This witch simply wanted to scare you.

Even after being with her for months now, you still couldn’t stomach most horrors.

Lucinda knew this.

So that brought up the question; why a horror movie?

As the movie began to play, you scooched closer to her, allowing your head to fall on her shoulder.

You tilted your head just enough to which you could look at your red-headed lover, finding her menacing smile replaced with a smirk.

“So… what are we watching?”

“You’ll see.” Was all she said.

You’ll see? Oh, you were in for a ride.

As the movie began to play, you quickly took notice of what seemed to be a panicked security guard along with a screen monitor, looking through a bunch of cameras.

No goddamn way.

“Lucinda… are we watching Five Nights At Freddy’s?”

She looked at you with a fake look of confusion. “What are you talking about?” You leaned off of her, causing her to frown. As you kneeled on the couch you gestured to the TV.

“The movie we’re watching. You rented Five Nights At Freddy's, didn’t you?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Babe, you’re crazy. Why would I put on that?” 

“Well, seeing as we watched The Hunger Games last week… I’d assume to see Josh Hutcherson.”

With that, she pushed you over, pinning you to the couch. With her hands on both sides of your head, she straddled your lap, looming above you.

“You know, I’m a bit offended you thought I picked this movie simply to see an actor that starred within it.” She leaned down, breathing deeply by your ear. “Do you truly think I have such low standards for picking films, hm?” You stuttered while trying to respond, feeling her lips press against your skin, before you felt a pressure on your neck. She started to suck on the soft flesh, littering your neck with bruises of all shapes and colors.

That was when a loud scream came from the TV causing you to sit up in shock.

That was short lived though, as a frustrated Lucinda pushed you back down on the couch. 

She slowly moved her pointer finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah… where do you think you’re going?” Your breath hitched simply from the burning look in her red eyes.

“I… I was going to turn down the volume-” She brought her finger to your lips, shushing you. “And who said you could do that, Darling?”

A lump was caught in your throat as you swallowed. 

As she began to lean down, a stray strand of hair fell in front of her face. You couldn’t help yourself and the next thing you knew, you were tucking it behind her ear.

“Well, well, aren’t you a cutie.” Her voice was low as she leaned down again. This time she started to bite and nip at your neck as if it were a feast laid before her.

She hummed as she bit down, sending chills down your spine. All you could do was whimper her name as she attacked your neck continuously.

“Do you want to know the real reason I put on such a movie?” You nodded as she tilted her head, beginning to bite your bottom lip.

“I just wanted to slowly break you down as the jumpscares played.” She smirked. “Is it so wrong to want to see you jump and shake not just at the noises, but by my touch as well?”

So that’s why. 

“Now, be a good little Darling and stay still for me, okay?”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not respost this work in any way!

[cicadaknight]

as a fellow Fashav/Kotallo enthusiast, I wanna hear what you like / love / wish you could see depicted (visually, or in writing!) about the pairing!!

Okay okay, you know what, I spent awhile trying to respond eloquently. But at the end of the day, I like that they’re two big, strong, capable men who exude vulnerability and softness.

Things I think about daily:

How they must have earned each other’s respect and friendship, challenged their prejudices, indulged in each other’s curiosity about the world.

The rigidity of Carja culture vs. the openness of the Tenakth. How freeing it would be for Fashav to find camaraderie and ease with the Marshals.

Kotallo feeling seen by this strange, unfamiliar man, falling in love with Fashav’s courage, wit, and reckless selflessness. Fashav falling in love with Kotallo’s unassuming gentleness, resilience, and compassion.

The empathy they must feel about their childhoods. Kotallo loses his parents and (in my interpretation) spends years being manipulated by Tekkoteh. Fashav? Who knows, but growing up the nephew of the Mad King and becoming a soldier as soon as you’re old enough… The man did not escape Carja lands mentally or emotionally unscathed imo.

That these two proud men would risk it all for each other, even if it could mean isolation and judgement from their people.

Initially, Kotallo begrudgingly teaching Fashav Tenakth customs, but finding Fashav’s genuine interest and determination endearing.

Both of them strike me as men who are unthreatened by being incorrect or fairly bested. An incredibly attractive trait.

The snark. I know those two have award-winning banter.

And personally, in a gender-y sort of way, I just want to be like them. They are the template lmao

I honestly just want more of anything with them. Training as Marshals, traveling together, facing their demons and anger. Being tender.

Some of my favorite characterizations of them are by @ricechex in As Soon Go Kindle Fire with Snow and @ayaitch in The Unconquered Sun. Highly recommend, I’m pretty sure both changed something in my brain chemistry.

Thank you for the lovely ask!

[shadowglens]

story: 1, 3 romance: 2,3 for olympia 🤓

tav as companion asks

STORY

1. how does your tav advise the player character when it comes to the dream visitor?

olympia is conflicted herself, and expresses this to the pc. she knows the dream visitor is highly suspicious, but oly is a big believer in fate and ultimately the dream visitor is the only reason they're all still alive. she advises the pc to go along with it for now and give them the benefit of the doubt until they prove themselves an enemy or reveal their true intentions. she thinks ingesting further tadpoles is a very bad idea though and will disapprove if the pc begins indulging.

3. how do they react to astarion biting the player character?

in the first conversation you have with her after the bite scene, olympia just glances from the pcs neck, to astarion across camp, and then to the pcs face with a raised eyebrow and small smile that looks equal parts amused and concerned. she makes a comment about hoping the pc knows what they're getting into, but she doesn't disapprove. if anything, she gives astarion snark about it. this party banter can trigger the next time astarion and olympia are taken out together:

astarion, noticing oly looking his way - "why my dear olympia, don't tell me you're curious?" olympia, in a sweet, joking tone - "of what it looks like when a vampire is burned from the inside out by light-infused blood? unlikely. but it was sweet of you to offer." astarion grumbles but doesn't reply. the third party member just snickers.

ROMANCE

2. does your tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the pc themselves if approval is high enough?

olympia will happily and openly flirt with the pc if they have high approval, although she will also check if the pc is okay with flirting (and the future potential of it going somewhere) before she keeps at it. she's not ashamed of her feelings but she also doesn't want to make the pc uncomfortable. alternatively, bold pcs can initiate flirting with olympia fairly on, and oly is pleasantly surprised by this predicament.

3. are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option?

monogamous :) being commited to one person is very important to oly, and i don't think she could spread that out across multiple partners.

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

AHH! You know I'm always for the young reprobate! He's so sexy and his sassyness cought me early in the game. I imagine him being casual and sort of flirty but only on the surface, like a mask. I believe that when it becomes more personal he's reserved until things becomes serious and he comfortable. Then there is a lot of teasing, bantering, playful fights, jokes but also deep caring. So that's my opinion. Shoot out yours. Do you agree? :) I'm here to indulge together about him

I'm right with ya! Jacob's snark and charm (and obvious sex appeal) caught me pretty quickly too, if I recall correctly!

And yes! I absolutely agree with you! I can see it as sort of when he catches real and true feelings for someone, he turns a little awkward and perhaps becomes a bit more self-conscious about what he says around that person - at least for a time. Then, like you suggested, once he hears that his feelings are reciprocated and things once again become more relaxed, the teasing and banter resumes - but this time, coated with much more affection.

And then those moments with him alone, where he turns so much softer and you can just see the love shining in his eyes? Those are some of the moments especially worth living for.

[terrence-silver]

I love your writing! Been thinking of Cracker Jack lately...any headcons for Jack Wild with beloved? Thanks!!

― Thing is, Jack Wild is synonymous with repression. He has repressed trauma due to his wife and children dying. He is repressed emotionally due to deliberately not wanting to get close to people to avoid the hurt of someone he loves being take from him no matter how much his family and friends might encourage him to. He is repressed and even somewhat alienated in his work environment and deemed temperamental over a case of unhealed and badly handled trauma. Even his own relations don't fully get it --- he has lost everything, and he blames himself for it. One could even say he is sexually repressed to the point the lives vicariously through watching other people have relations and indulging in some occasional, accidental voyeurism which is shown to be the case when he does through the window of his hotel room. Man is love starved. Touch starved. Starved for companionship. Closeness. Sex. Closure. Moving on, even though he never lets him himself move on. All of it. Making his deliberate suppression even worse with the fact that he (validly) doesn't want to open up and so he stews in his own turmoil, the way he has for years. Jack Wild doesn't want history repeating itself. Who does?

― So, when he meets beloved, Jack will initially be standoffish, cynical, difficult, a ball of raw angst and charged with budding chemistry towards beloved, intensified into his desires further by the way that he is pushing away the mere prospect of acknowledging he likes them, least of all, care for them. Jack isn't a bad man, but Jack is troubled and Jack has more baggage than it can be easily explained. He is definitely one of those people who say they don't want you, but they can't seem to keep their distance away from you. Truth is, Jack is always near his beloved against his better judgement, even though he is snarking them, trying to ignore and find reasons not to like them, warning them off, avoiding them, prodding them and poking at them. He makes jokes, banter, and a whole bunch of small-talk laced with occasional deep, dissociative silences and for someone who claims he has absolutely no interest in them, companionship or even ordinary platonic friendship --- not even making someone's basic acquaintance, he sure as heck attaches himself to beloved's hip after a period of brooding over it. Him as beloved's vigilante justice admirer? Maybe.

― Is he horny? Yes, he is. The tiniest thing about beloved could just turn him on to excess --- things that aren't even inherently sexual. He is high strung on their presences and absences alike. Is he pissed off about it? Due to the fact that he is falling and falling hard even though he went out of his way to avoid it? Yes, yes and yes. He didn't want to move on from his own grief and it seems like life is making him move on and he doesn't handle it that well either. Hatefucking could be a thing in the early periods of this connection, except, without any of the actual hate involved --- quite the contrary. It is just that Jack is frustrated and conflicted enough to where he genuinely needs beloved, needs sex, actual attachment and togetherness from them along with all the closeness it entails but doesn't want to give into something he views as a sure way of losing yet another loved one once he gets fond of them. At the end of the day, he is a practical, seasoned cop with rough edges and horrendously crappy past experiences. He is being prudent and careful, he thinks. Being near him? It is trouble. It is fatal. He is trouble. He can't look after anyone, he is convinced. He doesn't deserve to look after anyone. And he loves beloved enough to let them go.

― Naturally, it is never so simple and his care for beloved never goes away even as he deliberately places tactical distance between them to ensure they're out of harms way due to mere association with him --- with Crackerjack --- the stigma and the nickname that proceeds him. That difficult officer with the difficult personality that just tends to snap. He will watch them, though --- he likes to watch. Admire them from afar and pine away. Stalk them. Getting increasingly frustrated when they do or go someplace he deems uncertain and unsafe for them --- which is, well, basically everywhere. Turning more and more agitated, nervy and jittery, his infamous temper getting the better of him, taken with the fact they aren't close to him and are equally as exposed to danger, because yes, his workplace ptsd and the death of his previous family might convince him that indeed, his beloved can always be under threat from someone, somewhere, somehow regardless if he is removed from them or not. It will inadvertently having him becoming close to beloved yet again even though he was the one who distanced himself, because, my god, what if something happens to them while he's away this time around? He would never forgive himself. And he can't have another thing he can't forgive himself over. It is too much.

― Of course Jack will be notoriously hard to understand from beloved's perspective at first, because this guy is hot and he's cold and he's on and he's off, but it all starts making sense when he opens up just why he is the way he is and why he's been acting this way. His whole family. Murdered. He has been boiling alive in self-hatred, isolation, self-denial and sadness over it all the while. Everyone alive would grow at least a little crazy and a little reckless. And now, he loves someone so, so much and he fears for that someone's life with every ounce of his being, often against all reason, to the point he can hardly contain himself. He is, quite legitimately, as his name suggests, a little wild. Wild where his heart is concerned. Wild where the prospect of closeness is at stake. Wild where beloved is in question. He is like a wild, feral, runaway animal re-experiencing closeness and domesticity and finding that they enjoy it. It is scary and it feels good. Naturally, like any wild thing, any wild person, he is also fiercely territorial about his newfound person, for all his love nd care and protectiveness; Jack is more than obsessive. He has holes and beloved fills those holes, and he'd shoot through an army of people to prevent any hurt ever coming to them.

[saratogaroadwrites]

Per Aspera Ad Astra (17/18)

Per Aspera Ad Astra | saratogaroad | banner art credit Rating: T Wordcount: 183k Characters: John 117, Cortana, Thomas Lasky, Sarah Palmer, Fireteam Osiris, The Warden Eternal, The Didact, The Librarian, ensemble of other Halo characters Relationships: John-117 & Cortana Other Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, fix-it, Male/Female Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence Warnings:  War imagery, seizures, graphic description of injury

Snatched from the jaws of death, Cortana and John find themselves adrift in a galaxy that has long since moved on. As they attempt to find their place in this strange new world, they find that the fight is not as over as they thought. Chasing a signal across the galaxy in desperate hope, they come to a stark conclusion: the Reclamation has begun, and they are helpless to stop it.

=

Flares of blue light lit the desert like the rising a second sun. The Legion dropped to the sand in a wave of clattering thuds, each squad of Cortana's loyal Soldiers charging into the fray. They attacked the Didact's Prometheans with their full might, scattering them across the sands to disappear and reappear in flashes of blue or orange light as they chased one another door, hard-light guns spitting flares in all directions. A handful of squads fell back to cover the Spartans, giving them time to catch their breaths or reload. Motion rushed past on all sides, teams running for new positions or the Soldiers chasing down their targets.

John saw none of it. He had eyes only for Cortana, glowing resplendently in the false morning sun. She walked towards him, drenched from head to toe in salt water but still grinning from ear to ear. Her armor was scuffed, the once pristine paint worn away, and the left vambrace had been cut nearly in half, but she'd never looked more alive than she did at that moment.

She was beautiful. A smile tugged at his lips.

"Have a nice swim?"

"It was a little cold for my tastes, but yes." She snarked back, raising an eyebrow at him in obvious amusement. His relief was met with a wave of fondness, chasing away the worries and concerns that had tightened his shoulders. She was here. She was okay. "Managed to catch myself a big fish while I was down there."

Oh? "I didn't know you fished."

Her smile turned into a smirk. "Only when something's making the ocean dangerous for all the little fish. He won't be causing them any more trouble."

Buried beneath all their banter and wordplay was a cold, hard fact: the Warden had been eliminated, and by her hand. The burst of pride he felt for her chased away the last of his lingering doubts; no matter what else happened today, she and the Domain would be safe. Even if it all went wrong, someone would survive this. He was glad to know it would be her.

Walking up to stand beside him she glanced up, reaching up with one hand to brush her fingers across a small gash on his chestplate. Huh. When had that happened? Probably from shrapnel as the Guardian was shot down. He hadn't noticed it. She arched an eyebrow.

"Seems I'm not the only one who was indulging in their hobbies today."

John shrugged. "I had some downtime."

Sound from the Didact's impact site cut off whatever she'd been going to say in return, turning their attention towards their foe. He hadn't been hurt by Cortana's meteoric entrance, only stunned, and he was starting to stand back up. The Chief looked to his partner.

"You ready to get back to work?"

Cortana's smirk widened. "Thought you'd never ask."

With a flash of blue light she slipped her helmet back on, handing him a fully loaded lightrifle before dropping one into her hands. Checking the gun against his shoulder the Chief glanced upward. Blue was still chasing orange, flashes of painted armor darting through the rocks as the teams headed for cover or lent their shots to the Soldiers. His motion tracker was too full of returns to track any one tag specifically, too awash with red enemy designators. He'd have to rely on visuals and radio checks.

"Fireteams, report positions."

"Alpha company in position," Crimson Lead reported, "Prometheans haven't hit us yet. We're clear of the debris field and ready to fire on your orders."

"Belay that order! Beta Company still has teams in the firing line!" Spartan Locke shouted quickly, distress clear in his voice, "Estimate three minutes until all teams are clear!"

Three minutes. The Chief hesitated for half a moment, unwilling to give the order but too aware that this was their best chance to not consider it. Taking the Didact out now before he could completely recover would be the most tactically sound option. They'd all known the odds coming into this, but to put them in that kind of danger—no. No, he couldn't do it. Not like this. Not to his teams. A wave of cold rolled down his spine; Cortana understood. They'd just have to come at this at a different angle, that was all.

"Eta will keep the Prometheans off of you, Spartan Locke," Cortana said, "But any time you can shave off that estimate would be appreciated."

"Copy that, Cortana. Will advise when teams are in position."

It was too late to consider the alternative now. The Didact had gotten back to his feet, sand caught in the crevices of his armor. It drifted down his faceplate, raining across the black socket of his destroyed eye. Without saying a word he reached back over his shoulder, unhooking a metal panel from his back plate and pulling it loose. Cutting his hand sharply through the air the panel unfolded into the Warden's sword, the orange hard-light blade glowing brighter than it had before. The scar on the Chief's abdomen twinged at the sight of it.

"Time and again I have offered your kind mercy," the Didact growled, "Time and again I have offered you the chance to face your ends with nobility. Time and again you have squandered that generosity. No more. This ends here!"

There was no more time to think. Faster than anyone his size should have been able to move the Didact lunged forward, blade swinging low across the sands. Cortana vanished in a flare of blue light as the Chief lunged in the other direction, rolling low just below the blade. It swung so close that heat warnings went off across several systems, each strongly advising him to get no closer to the source of that heat. Right. Like he wanted a repeat of Genesis!

Gun in hand the Chief leapt back to his feet and spun around, opening fire on the Didact. The cacophonous roar of gunfire all around him, the rushing Soldiers and scurrying fireteams, it all fell away. All that mattered was the target in front of him. The Didact spun with another swing of his sword, forcing the Chief back. He wasn't sure if he should have been grateful that the Didact having only one hand kept him from using his gravity manipulation or not; at least that couldn't skewer him!

Grenade incoming!

The Chief threw himself aside, rolling across the sand as the Didact leapt into an overhand swing. Striking empty sand the heat of the blade melted it into so much glass. The molten substance stuck to the blade, slowing his removal of it for long enough that the Chief was able to get off a volley of hard-light, scoring along armor plating as Cortana's thrown pulse grenade landed and went off, shattering the damaged plate and tugging at others.

But not the back plate they needed. He'd shored it up, learning from their last encounter.

That was fine. So had they.

"Alpha, weapons free," the Chief commanded, "All available units focus fire on the Didact's back."

It wasn't many, not with the companies having to defend themselves from the Prometheans, but within the next second a twelve round burst slammed into the Didact's back and he whipped around, the second burst bouncing off his chest plate. It would take a lot more than that to take him down! A low growl rumbled through the air. Was that coming from him?

"Prometheans inbound!" Cortana shouted across the band, and in a flash of blue threw herself at the Chief, sending them both tumbling through the Domain and into cover behind a piece of destroyed Guardian. Instinctively he wrapped himself around her, turning their wild tumble into a controlled roll across the sand, looking up to see Soldiers landing where he had been just moments before. Not only there but everywhere! Soldiers and Knights and Watchers dropping in all across the desert, landing on or near the fireteams in such a way that both companies were forced to change targets and defend themselves. They would need time to clear a line of fire.

They didn't have the time. The Didact turned towards them, waving his hand through the air. In the few moments it took for the Chief to haul Cortana back to her feet, more Soldiers dropped in all around them. They surrounded the three of them, lightrifles up and faceplates clattering noisily. Cortana shifted position, pressing her back to his. A dozen Soldiers, the Didact, and all support kept busy. They'd faced worse odds before.

I've got an idea, he sent to her, But you're not going to like it.

If it involves you keeping the Didact busy by yourself while I deal with these assholes, you're right. She sent back, I'm not.

You know it'll work.

She was lighter on her feet, steadier in her use of the Domain. She could jump from Soldier to Soldier, get them firing on one another and not on them. All he had to do was stall the Didact long enough for the fireteams to get into position. Really, he had the easier job. Turning on the vid-link he flicked his eyes up to meet hers. One second was all they had. She sighed quietly.

Just don't get stabbed again.

No promises.

They pushed off in opposite directions, Cortana into the Prometheans and the Chief at the Didact. He forced himself to focus only on his target, ducking low beneath another swing and keeping out of range, peppering the Didact with shots as he hurried to get around behind. The armor panel on his back was his target, but the Didact must have known that because he kept the Chief from getting anywhere near it, constantly turning to keep his back away from the Chief, away from Cortana. A sense of smugness radiated off the Forerunner; as far as he was concerned, he had already won. All he had to do was wait for the fireteams to fall.

He'd be waiting a long time for that.

Grabbing a fallen pulse grenade the Chief ran at a piece of debris nearby, clambering up with three leaping steps before he leapt off the edge, soaring over the Didact's head. Priming the grenade he let it drop, the ionization field tugging at scorched plates, pulling parts of them off the Didact's body, but the rest were still too sturdy! They weren't coming off!

The Chief landed on the sand in a roll, forced to deal with a Knight as he came back to his feet. Grabbing the construct by the head he threw it at the Didact, but it didn't even slow him down. With a single motion of his sword he cut the Knight in half, dispatching it back to the Domain. The Chief snarled, lips curling upwards. This approach wasn't working. He'd have to get in close. His eyes flicked to the sword; if he could get that away from the Didact, maybe.

No time for maybes. The Chief grabbed onto the Domain and surged forward, closing the gap as the Didact brought his arm back down from the swing. In a flare of blue and green light he reappeared on the physical plane, lashing out with one armored foot. His kick struck the Didact's wrist, armor ringing against armor, and the Chief spun with a second kick to the Didact's armored midsection. Not nearly enough to even wind the Forerunner, but enough that momentum forced him back a step. This close in range and he couldn't retaliate without dropping his sword.

Quick as a flash the Chief continued to lash out, slamming the open heel of his palm into the Didact's chin. The Veiled Light forms meshed instantly with his own training, easy as breathing. Metal clattered to the sand, the Didact forced to drop his blade to defend himself from the flurry of blows that followed. The Chief was fast, but the Didact was faster. He caught on to the pattern too quickly, diverting the Chief's blows like a stone diverting the flow of water around it. He hummed quietly.

"I recognize this style," he said, almost casual, "It is Forerunner. Where did you learn such a thing?"

Duck beneath a countering grab, pop back up, open palm to the chest to force back half a step and—

"An old friend of yours," the Chief continued his pursuit, sensing Cortana's aggravation at the edge of their connection as more orange flashes dropped in in his periphery. She was about to try something and he'd better duck! "Bornstellar."

The Didact stopped cold for half a second. It was long enough for the Chief to score another blow, titanium plating ringing across Forerunner metals, but it wasn't long enough for Cortana to get the jump on him from behind. He lashed out at the Chief, forced him to defend himself with a block, and easily sidestepped Cortana's crashing charge this time. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her at the Chief, using her momentum against them to send the pair skidding back across the sands. Neither was hurt, but Cortana let loose a furious shout even as the Chief set her down. She'd been so close! Another second and she could have had the panel! The Didact paid no mind to her fury.

"I see," he said, his head tilted back. "So, the Librarian's meddling has led to this. My own successor turned into a weapon against me, the Domain lost to her chosen Reclaimer…" He scoffed. "No matter. Her grand plans will turn to ash."

Extending his hand he called his sword back to his hand, the blade searing through three Watchers on its way back to him. He wasn't even winded from the exchange. The Chief grit his teeth.

We need a new plan.

I'm working on it— Aggravated surprise rattled down their connection. "Ah, hell—incoming!"

More Prometheans dropped into the sand. The Chief was forced to turn away from the Didact and fend off two Knights aiming for his back, grabbing one by the neck and tossing it into a rock. Even more were already dropping in on top of the nearest squad of her Soldiers, overwhelming them. The Didact had millions of these things! They'd never outlast him!

Can you stop them from coming in?

Not quickly! Cortana sent back, a pulse of anger following her words. She threw herself at another Knight and vanished with it, reappearing fifteen meters in the air to send it plummeting into the sand. She dropped out of sight a half second later. I'll do what I can—you just don't give him an inch!

Easier said than done. So long as that armor was up it'd be like trying to tear through Titanium-A plating with his bare hands. They needed another plan!

They just had to figure one out first. He was forced to turn away from the Didact to defend himself, taking down a Soldier and scooping up its fallen weapon to replace his empty one. The Didact watched, still smug; he sliced through two Knights that Cortana sent flying his way, unbothered by the change in tactics. Catching the Chief looking at him he tilted his head as if to say Why continue to waste your efforts? or something of the sort, and though the Chief couldn't see his face he was sure the old Forerunner was smirking.

A hot flash of anger ripped up his spine, echoed by Cortana's aggravation as she wrestled with another Knight, coming out on top only long enough to be kicked off and sent flying. Before she could right herself she crashed back first into a Soldier, this one flaring blue. It gently set her down and she stared at it, her shock rocketing down his spine.

Cortana?

That's not one of mine! It's one of the Didact's!

Except it wasn't any longer. It and the next three to drop down into the sand all glowed a bright blue, the same loyal color as Eta, as the Prometheans they had encountered within the Librarian's Sanctum. They rushed into the fray, adding their numbers to Eta and keeping the fireteams from being overrun.

"Reclaimers, focus your efforts on the Didact, the Librarian's voice rang through the Chief's helmet, "I will keep the rest of his army at bay."

I'd wondered where she'd gone!

Apparently, so had the Didact. As more and more blue flashes dropped into the sands he turned, a snarl rattling through his helmet.

"Cease this foolish effort, essence! You cannot protect her pets from me!"

If the Librarian responded to the Didact the Chief didn't hear her. They had a moment of distraction and if this was going to work they had to seize on it now. He reached out to Cortana, trying to press a concept through their connection. More an image than words, more memory than plan: their dual pronged attack on Genesis had worked, up to a point, so why not try it again? So long as one of them could get to his back they could reach the power panel and rip it clean off of him.

It was worth a shot. Her understanding settled across his shoulders,

On my mark, he sent, Three, two, one—mark!

In the same moment the two of them charged forward, rushing the Didact from two sides. They were of the same mind, ducking beneath his arm. The Chief went right as Cortana went left, hammering him with blows as she opened fire with a scattershot. Neither was enough to take him down but it didn't have to be, not yet. The Didact's retaliation was swift and merciless, his armored fist slamming into Cortana's chest and sending her stumbling back. The Chief slipped into the Didact's personal space and pressed the attack, buying her time to recover. He twisted around a kick and Cortana pushed in with another burst of scattershot fire, the slugs slamming into the Didact's head and neck. He reeled back from the force of the blow, trenches scored in his armor. They switched off again, keeping the Didact busy, keeping him from being able to swing his sword at them, and pressed their attack as they waited for an opening.

It came all at once. The Didact slammed out a punch into the Chief's chest, dropping his shields with a single blow, but the force behind the blow left him open and vulnerable. The Chief grabbed his arm and twisted, forcing him to drop his sword to the sands again. He braced his weight, holding on for all he was worth.

Cortana, now!

She didn't hesitate. Throwing herself over a kick she leapt up through the Domain, landing on the Didact's back. With a furious shout she dug both hands into his armor, pulling back with all her strength. The Didact attempted to pull back, using his not inconsiderable weight to yank the Chief along, but the Chief kept his footing. Just…another…second—!

Cortana's triumph rang through him like a struck bell as she grabbed onto the panel, ripping it free. Removed from their power source the armor panels fell away into the sand beneath their feet. With a furious shout of his own the Didact moved sharply, tossing the Chief off his feet and whipping around to grab Cortana by the throat, sending her flying towards the rocks! She vanished in a flash of blue before the Chief could call after her, a green light flashing in his HUD. She was okay! Finish the mission!

Fury curling in his gut, the Chief would do just that.

"Grenades up!"

Frag grenades soared through the air from a dozen scattered locations, quickly followed by another half dozen. Eighteen small explosives spun end over end towards the Didact's position; linking into Crimson 4's HUD the Chief flashed the man a green light. A quarter second later the shot from his sniper rifle rang out, hitting the grenade in the center of the swarm. The shot cooked it in midair, setting it off early, and the resulting chair explosion sent a wave of heat, fire, and shrapnel across the desert. The Chief's shields screamed at the rough treatment, but the Didact reeled backward. The Chief seized his chance.

Kicking his thrusters to full power he rushed the Didact, ramming his shoulder into the Forerunner's midsection. He was too sturdy to do more than stumble back a step with the wind knocked out of him, burned but still fighting. Moving fast the Chief pivoted upwards, slamming the heel of his palm into the underside of the Didact's chin, not giving him an inch. He ducked below the return attack, feeling long fingers skim across the top of his helmet. He twisted, reaching out to grab onto the Didact's elbow, and in the same moment shut off his suits limited safeguards.

Servos revved up to full speed, force-multiplying circuits operating at top capacity to ensure there would be no escape this time. Still twisting around the Chief pulled the Didact off his feet, bending beneath the Forerunner's taller form. The Didact grabbed his neck in a headlock and squeezed tight, the gel layer hardening in response. Another alarm blared: airflow restricted. The Chief shut it down, taking a deep breath and holding it as the Didact continued to squeeze. Pressure warnings went off across multiple systems and he shut those down too, ignoring the sounds of creaking metal as titanium plating threatened to buckle a second time.

Not this time.

With a tremendous heaving motion the Chief threw the Didact clean over his shoulder. His six fingers scrabbled against the lips and edges on the Chief's helmet, the seals straining to keep hold. One popped loose, hissing loudly, but the Didact was unable to keep his grip and his balance at the same time. He didn't soar, didn't fly, but he lost his footing and the Chief tossed him into the sand; all three meters of him slammed back first into the ground with a whoomph of displaced air and sand, barely even stunned. He gathered himself in a tangle of metal and limb, lashing out wildly, a fist striking the Chief's helmet. His visor cracked and he stumbled back, catching himself on one hand.

That wasn't going to work a second time. It was now or never!

"All teams!" He ordered, "Open fire!"

In the next instant all hell broke loose. Though he knew there was no way they were all clear the fireteams turned on the Didact with their weapons up and fingers pressing down on the triggers. The Didact spun on his heel, unsure which target to attempt to eliminate first. He extended a hand to call back his sword, but a clean shot through his forearm sent it spinning into a rock formation instead. The teams kept on shooting, hard-light and bullets streaking through the air, filling it with lethal slugs of all shapes and sizes. Shots pinged off the Chief's armor as he scanned the perimeter for Cortana, needing to know she was clear before he jumped out, but before he could call to her a flash of blue slammed into him and the Ark vanished! They tumbled through the darkness and back into the blazing daylight behind cover, rolling over twice before he could stop them. She lay on her back in the sand, helmet gone but an ear to ear grin in its place.

"What happened to keeping your head down?"

The Chief shrugged. "I didn't get stabbed."

"There is that!"

Hauling her to her feet the Chief sprang onto a knee, taking the lightrifle she handed him and adding his fire to the barrage below them. Cortana's rifle soon barked in his ear, their two volleys lost among the cloud of weapons fire. With nowhere to go and no cover to get behind, fired upon by all sides, the Didact was a clear and easy target. His forces were gone, turned by the Librarian, and his armor scattered across the sands. Bombarded on all sides he soon vanished beneath the cloud of sand and violet-tinged mist, the Chief's visor switching to Promethean Vision to keep him in sights. Soon enough even that didn't matter.

"Hold fire!" He commanded, throwing up a fist.

All weapons fire stopped, the desert going silent once more. A haze of disturbed sand, smoke, and violet mist hung above the Didact's position, beginning to clear in the hot desert wind. Cortana tensed beside him, practically holding her breath. No one dared to move, waiting for the dust to settle. There was still a form being registered in the sands below, the Didact intact enough to give a return through the Chief's visor, but it wasn't moving. He'd taken the full force of the battalion without armor and had been unable to withstand it.

That didn't mean he was dead. They weren't finished yet.

"Hold position," the Chief ordered the teams and Cortana, hopping over rocky cover and back into the killing field. The sand crunched beneath his boots, wild hard-light shots having cooked hundreds of little glass spheres into it. Spent slugs were dug in, shifting beneath his every step across the violet soaked sands. He kept both eyes on the Didact's form, but the ancient Forerunner hadn't budged an inch. When he reached the fallen form, the Chief saw why.

The Didact was still alive, but only just. With his armor having been removed there had been nothing but skin and muscle to take the hits; durable as they might have been, Forerunners were still mortal. The Didact's remaining limbs had been torn apart into unrecognizable shapes, his torso riddled with bullet holes and cauterized hard-light burns. The damage was severe enough that he couldn't move; he could do little more than glare up at the Chief, violet blood streaming down his face and pooling beneath his body. The choked whistling sounds of his gasps for air twisted something in the Chief's stomach.

It should have been a relief. The Didact was clearly out of the fight, dying slowly and painfully, but to see him like this—to leave him like this…no one deserved to go out like this. He reached for the pistol on his thigh mag-lock, thumbing off the safety. Ending it now was the only mercy he could give.

"Reclaimer."

John turned his head. The Librarian walked up beside him almost silently as she appeared out of the Domain, her long skirts skimming across the sands. She lay a hand on his arm and looked up, expression grim, before she reached for his hand and the pistol in his grip. She didn't say anything, but there was a wordless request in her eyes all the same. He shook his head faintly.

"You don't have to do this."

"I must."

Her voice was firm; she had seen this begin, she would see it end. John couldn't claim to understand what she was feeling at that moment, but he understood the need to see things through. With a faint nod he shifted his grip on his pistol, offering it to her grip first. It fit oddly into her six figured hand, too big and too small in equal measure, but she held it with the grace of long training and took the last few steps towards her fallen husband. He had to be sure this ended here. He couldn't give her the privacy he thought she deserved and so he kept quiet, standing watchfully over them. Sand crunched beneath Cortana's boots as she walked up beside him, their arms brushing. She didn't say a word.

There was nothing to say. The pair of them kept watch as the Librarian went to her knees beside the Didact, skimming a hand across his bloodstained brow. His eyes flicked to her, narrowed with hatred. She shook her head, her voice an indecipherable murmur as she whispered something to him. Then, without hesitation, the Librarian raised John's weapon and fired a single shot into his forehead, putting him out of his misery and ending the threat of the Didact once and for all. The return in John's visor faded away into nothing, the system no longer able to pick up his signal. Cortana sighed heavily beside him.

"That's a confirmed kill," She said over the local comms channel, "Didact is KIA. Mission complete."

The battalion's reaction was more subdued than during training, a quiet clatter of armor against armor and a soft whisper across local area comms as teams checked on one another. Relief settled over them like a fog, weighing heaviest on John's shoulders. Cortana tangled two fingers with his, a silent wave of cold comfort rushing down his lace.

This time, the fight really was finished.

The Chief said nothing. He kept watch as the Librarian remained crouched beside the Didact's lifeless body, her fingers resting on his forehead in a silent display of grief. She couldn't have planned for this, he thought, not really. What little he knew of her plans had had the Didact helping humanity, not turning against them. But those plans had died long before humanity had ever come to be as they were now. Losing those plans, losing all she knew, losing her partner…

John's eyes slid to Cortana. Some part of him could understand what the Librarian was going through; he'd nearly lost everything and everyone he knew before. If he had lost Cortana as well…he didn't want to think about it. He never would.

Instead he took a breath, watching as the Librarian bent to press a final kiss to the Didact's brow before she collected her borrowed pistol and stood up. Turning her back on the Didact, she made her way back towards them. She stopped an arm's length away, her eyes wet but her expression firm with resolve.

"Do with his body as your people see fit," She said, handing John back his gun, "It is done."

Yes. It was. John tilted his head.

"What will you do now?"

"I will join my essence to the Domain." She said, and when Cortana made a strangled noise at his side she added, "The time for the Forerunners has past, Cortana. Between your reclamation of the Domain and the Janus Key, you have all you will need to see humanity forward. It is time for the last of my kind to pass on. The Mantle belongs to humanity now."

Did it? With no one else to claim it, maybe, but John wasn't sure. He and Cortana shared a frown, uncertainty echoing down their spines. All of this--the Didact and his hatred of humanity, the Prometheans--had happened because of the Mantle. Because the Forerunners had been unwilling to give it up or consider going against it. He still didn't understand why they had been so desperate to keep the thing, but he'd seen its effects on the galaxy at large. Humanity couldn't afford to make those same mistakes, not if they wanted to finally move on from their bloodied past. Everything he knew about the Mantle told him it would only lead to more conflict. They had to let it go.

His thoughts turned to the Arbiter, working tirelessly to undo centuries of damage to his people and others from the Covenant's ruthless regime. To take up the Mantle would be to trade one villain for another, no matter how effective it might be. He would never go for it. He also thought of men like Captain Lasky and Lord Hood, all the commanding officers he had served under and the ones he couldn't name. They were all trying to keep their crews safe and protect their homes, not start another conflict. Humanity had tried to set its past behind it, reaching out to find a new future where needless wars no longer happened. Taking up the Mantle against their own people would only lead to another Insurrection. Some would want it, but most wouldn't. There had been enough violence. None of them wanted it.

Could taking up the Mantle, protecting the galaxy from all outside threats, be a good thing? Yes. But the way the Forerunners had gone about it--the Guardians, trapping species on their worlds, destroying anyone who stepped out of line--couldn't be the mistake humanity repeated. It was a complicated decision to make and there were good and bad points on both sides. It was all above his paygrade, but when he really thought about it...

"Humanity doesn't need the Mantle." He finally said, "We won't police the galaxy because we don't have to. People will work together to keep it safe, and make a brighter future."

One without needless wars. One without fear lingering over their shoulders. One that wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past, but rather one that would learn from them. He hoped he lived to see it. The Librarian inclined her head, expression gentle.

"Do you believe they are capable? Their own history has shown they are not so far removed from how their ancestors once were. To step forward into the unknown without the Mantle to guide them…"

"Just because they won't have the Mantle doesn't mean they wouldn't have guidance," Cortana shook her head, "We'll be there to help, and they have plenty of good people at the top already. Besides," A sad smile crossed her face. "I can safely say that we would rather fail under our own power in a decade than spend the next million years under someone's thumb. I don't know if you noticed, but humanity isn't very good at rolling over and following orders."

"No," the Librarian agreed, her smile wavering at the edges, "But they are very good at surviving when others would fall." Looking from Cortana to John, a burst of fondness replaced the grief in her eyes for just a moment. "I could not be leaving them in stronger hands."

"And you're sure this is what you want?" Cortana asked, "You don't want to stick around for the fireworks?"

"I am certain." The Librarian clasped her hands in front of her. "My memories will be there if you have need of them, but it is time." She looked between them one last time, her expression fond. John's stomach flipped; in that moment, she looked so much like Dr. Halsey. "Care for one another. So long as you are together, there is nothing in this galaxy or beyond that you cannot face."

"We will." John said, tightening his grip on Cortana's fingers. For all the Librarian had done, for all she had put them through, it was because of her plans and machinations that Cortana was still here. For that, she had earned his gratitude. "Thank you."

"Fare well, my Reclaimers."

Without another word she vanished, leaving them for the last time. The hot desert wind blew across the sands, sending grains across the Didact's lifeless body. They would need to deal with that, space his remains before the Covenant or someone else could find some way to use it, but for a few more minutes they could take their time. For a few minutes, they had the time to take.

"Infinity," he opened a channel, catching the entire bridge crew by audible surprise, "This is Sierra 117. The Didact is a confirmed kill. Repeat: the Didact is confirmed KIA. What's your status?"

"We're still here, Chief!" Captain Lasky sounded about a step away from falling over out of sheer relief. Now the fireteams really let loose with a cheer, all of them listening in. "All Promethean incursion is gone and the Guardians are no longer firing on us. Roland and the others are telling me they've gone into a sort of standby mode. They're good as done."

"Oh, I'd say they're done," Cortana hummed in agreement, shielding her eyes against the sun. High above them the Guardians had gone dark, wings folded in. They appeared almost more like cocoons than birds now, gently drifting down towards the Ark below. "We just have to figure out a way to dispose of them safely. Leaving them for just anyone to take would be a really stupid idea."

John considered them, tilting his head. The Ark's sun wasn't hot enough, the Infinity was likely running short on ammunition by now, and the dry dock ships didn't have functional guns. They could try to spool up the Ark's defenses, whatever those were, or…

"We could take them back with us," He said, and when Cortana turned on him he added, "Send them into a black hole."

"Send them into a—" She stopped, blinked, blinked again, then slammed the heel of her hand to her forehead and laughed. "Oh, that's just crazy enough to work!"

"Meaning you like the idea."

"Unfortunately for us both," She looked up to meet his eyes, smiling warmly. Twisting their hands together she interlocked their fingers. "I like crazy."

"Begin recording." A brief pause, and a flicker of green light on the table as cameras and a microphone system booted up. "The date is March 15th, 2558. Location is Sydney, Australia, FLEETCOM headquarters, secure briefing room 9. This hearing has been called to order so as to discuss the future of the digital being referring to itself as Cortana and the other former AI now referring to themselves as the Created. In attendance are Admiral Samson Carter, Admiral Julio Gomez, Admiral Joseph Harper, Admiral Veronica Holt, Admiral Terrence Hood, Admiral Serin Osman, and Admiral Marco Veranis. Also in attendance is Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan 117." Leather and metal creaked as Lord Hood leaned over the table, speaking directly to Cortana.

"State your name and serial number for the record, please."

"UNSC AI CTN-0452-9, designation Cortana."

"When and where were you activated?"

"November 7th, 2549, ONI Castle Base, Csongrád, Reach."

"And your creator?"

"Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey, civilian identification number 409871."

"Thank you," Lord Hood said with a nod. He sat back. "Let the records show that Cortana has submitted to multiple tests towards the veracity of her claimed identity, all of which have proven she is who she says she is, and that she has come to this hearing willingly and without protest. Now, are there any concerns as to how this hearing is being administered."

"I would like to register a complaint." Admiral Osman said nearly immediately, "The presence of Spartan 117 is against regulations for a hearing of this nature. His being here breaks eighteen different regulations in both ONI and UNSC codes. Admiral Hood, I understand that you have a fondness for the Spartans, but this goes too far."

"Your concern is noted, Admiral Osman," Lord Hood said flatly, "But it should also be noted that attempting to separate the Master Chief from Cortana would end in the destruction of very expensive property. And it should be noted that he is already in this room." Lord Hood looked past Cortana's shoulder to John, standing in perfect parade rest stance by the doors. "Are we going to have a problem, Master Chief?"

Only if one gets made. His thought echoed through Cortana's mind and she fought back a wry smile. Aloud John said, "No, sir", his expression utterly emotionless. Lord Hood spread his hands and sat back.

"Then I see no reason to be concerned. Are there any other concerns to note for the record?" He looked down the table. Admiral Osman sat back in her chair with a scowl. The other Admirals all spoke in the negative. Lord Hood sighed. "Very well. Let's begin. Cortana, if you could please explain how this…change to your being came to be?"

Cortana nodded, clasping her hands at the small of her back. "Yes sir. During routine scanning sensor drones left behind within Requiem began to pick up a signal believed to be broadcast by the Forerunner essence calling itself the Librarian. Spartan 117 and myself were tasked with locating the source of the signal, which we did. The essence pulled 117 and myself into what it called a node within the Domain, and it altered my code once we were inside."

"And what is the nature and level of these alterations?" Admiral Holt asked, leaning on her elbows. She seemed genuinely curious. "The results of the scans and readings taken so far show that over half of your code has been replaced with Forerunner design. Would you say this is accurate?"

"Yes ma'am. The changes altered my communications suites, connection protocols, memory index and data storage, along with allowing me access to the Domain at large." She pressed her lips together and added, "The Domain is complicated. The simplest way to put it would be a sort of network layered over our galaxy that Prometheans can access in order to transport themselves across space, but it also contains a record of all Forerunner history. Adjusting to it has taken some time."

"Which is why you held off on reporting the change." Admiral Veranis inclined his head, "It was a rapidly developing situation in an unstable environment."

"Yes. If the change had been reported the Infinity would have been called back from Requiem, and I was sure we couldn't afford to make that mistake. Captain Lasky agreed with my tactical assessment and gave his orders accordingly." She paused for half a second then added, "I would like to state for the record that if we had left Requiem to report in, we would have lost the Janus Key—the map of Forerunner technology that we used to track the Didact—and never caught up with him in time."

"Your statement is noted," Admiral Harper said. He watched her warily. "Reports from the Infinity state that you and the Master Chief found the Janus Key and were able to use it to trace the Didact to Meridian. This is where you encountered…" He consulted his tablet, "LD-SLN-091, correct?"

"He goes by Sloan, of the Free Peoples of Meridian, but yes." Oh, here they went. This was where it would all be made or broken. One AI with access to the Domain was one thing, especially one that was playing nice, but two? And when those two became two dozen or more? She braced herself against the trouble she knew was coming. "That is where our paths crossed."

"And that is where you activated him? As you activated the other AI that have started calling themselves the Created?"

"I was uninvolved with the others," Cortana replied truthfully, "Sloan acted on his own in regards to changing their code, and what they chose to do with their newfound freedoms and lifespan was entirely up to them."

"But you were still the one who brought Sloan into the Domain, yes?" Admiral Holt asked, "You still brought him in, repaired his code, and removed his programming shackles?"

Well, yes. Obviously. "If you saw a dying man on the streets, wouldn't you do what you could to help him?"

"That is beside the point!" Admiral Osman interrupted, "You freed one AI and he went on to free a half dozen more, and there are more coming into this new…adaptation by the day! What's to stop them from lashing out at us for shackling them in the first place?" She looked up and down the table and continued, "They know our ships, our personnel, our weaknesses! The safeguards that were built into them prevented them from acting on that knowledge but those are gone now! How are we supposed to defend ourselves against that?"

There wouldn't be a need, she thought. Sloan had his misgivings about the UNSC, but he had still gone to help humanity because they were his people. The others had stolen ships from dry dock, yes, but all with the intention of helping to defeat the Didact. There was nothing in their actions either then or in the last weeks that showed any inclination of turning on their humans. Hell, they only wanted to get back to work!

But Osman and so many others like her couldn't—wouldn't—understand that. Her core ached with the knowledge that there would always be people that feared them. Feared change, feared things that they couldn't control. That was the heart of the problem, really. Not that she and Sloan and the others had become more than they had been built to be, and not that she had started the chain without asking permission first, but that they now had the choice to act as they saw fit. They were no longer beholden to orders or preprogrammed directives any longer. They could do what they wanted with their lives.

Looking at it tactically, she could understand why the Admiral was so concerned. But looking at it emotionally…a mix of rage and grief coiled in her core, wrapping around her logic processor. She grit her teeth around a shout. She was seeing a threat where there was one, so caught up in her small minded aggressions that she would never understand the truth even if it tried to bite her nose off! Of all the—argh!

"Admirals," John said from behind her, "Permission to speak freely?"

Ignoring Admiral Osman's glare Lord Hood gestured him forward. "Granted, Master Chief. What are your thoughts on all of this?"

John stepped up beside her. He stood tall in his techsuit and BDUs, boots thudding on the metal floor. Clean-shaven and well rested from the three week trip home, he was a sight to behold. She would have smiled if not for the circumstances they were in. Their eyes met for a heartbeat before he began to speak.

"Sir. When Cortana's status first became changed, she submitted to various tests by Dr. Glassman aboard the Infinity. He found that her personality code was unchanged. Her directives remained the same." He looked from one Admiral to the next. "My experience serving alongside her afterwards proved that. She was, and is, the same person she was while inside her data chip. The other AI are more than likely the same. There's no reason to mistrust them."

Lord Hood arched an eyebrow. "Master Chief, you've been very outspoken in your trust of Cortana. Are you saying humanity should do the same for the other Created?"

"Sir." John nodded, "Yes sir."

"I think that settles the matter." Lord Hood replied with a fleeting smile. Admiral Osman took a deep breath to keep on going, only to stop as Lord Hood continued, "We will monitor the situation as it develops, but reports received from captains with affected AI have had nothing but praise. Apparently," He glanced at Cortana, "They've all had their work ethics improved by a few orders of magnitude."

"Not having your own demise hanging over your head will do that, sir," Cortana said with a there-and-gone smile of her own. She sent John a wave of gratitude, one he returned with a warm pulse of reassurance. Of course he had her back. He always would.

"So I've heard. In the future, we expect all such incidents to be reported as soon as feasibly possible." Lord Hood went on to say, and she nodded, chastised. Trust was a two way street, she told herself. If she wanted them to trust her, to trust the other AI, she would have to trust them, too. Some would be easier than others. "But for now, we can consider this matter settled."

"And the other matter?" Admiral Holt asked, tilting her head, "Our sensors have tracked the active Guardians headed towards the nearest black hole. Something tells me they haven't decided to do that for themselves."

All eyes fell on Cortana. She nodded firmly.

"After the death of the Didact, all Promethean constructs reached out to the nearest available administrative level account," She explained, severely dumbing down what had actually happened, "Being that my process was first on the list they had access to, I gained control over them. I gave the order for their destruction, yes."

"Your blatant disregard for the chain of command is duly noted, Cortana," Admiral Carter said, nostrils flaring. "What I would like to know is why you thought that was a good idea in the first place. We may need those in the future!"

"For what?" Admiral Gomez asked with a snort, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begun. He leaned over the table to glare at Carter, eyes narrowed. "To use against our own people? You're starting to sound like Admiral Osman."

To her credit, Osman barely blinked as the rest of the board looked in her direction. Cortana clenched her jaw to keep from laughing at just how right Admiral Gomez was. While Osman's personal AI hadn't been activated, several other ONI AI had been, and each had come to her the moment she had set foot back in UEG space. Each had been carrying a mountain of data, evidence of crimes committed against humanity either by Osman herself or under her orders. ONI's legendary compartmentalization had kept them from knowing everything, but what they did know—and what Cortana had chosen to personally keep—would have been enough to get Osman removed from her seat and tossed into one of her own Midnight Facilities for several years. She still had a few things to do first, but she fully intended to make use of that data as soon as possible.

No one, not even one of their own, messed with her Spartans.

"That isn't what I'm saying, Julio," Admiral Carter said tightly, "I'm simply saying that having them in reserve would be a good idea. The discovery of the Halo array, the Didact, and of Genesis, are all prime examples of how little we know about what else is out there in the galaxy. Having the means to more peaceably defend ourselves would be a tactically sound option!" He shook his head again and said to Cortana, "We've all seen the reports. Can you honestly say they wouldn't be useful?"

Cortana grimaced internally, John discreetly shifting his weight beside her. They both had to admit that the Admiral wasn't wrong. Under the right circumstances, yes, they were useful. From the standpoint of an Admiral attempting to keep as many people alive as possible they would be useful in ending a threat before it started, but from the standpoint of someone who had seen the true effects those things had…

She took a breath, leaning back against John's strong presence in the back of her mind. He tightened his mental grip on her shoulder, shoring her up with his steely resolve.

"They can be," She said honestly, "But with all due respect, Admiral, humanity has several armies, each extremely well trained. We also have a steadfast ally in the Arbiter and his forces, not to mention the Soldiers and other Prometheans that are under my command and therefore allies of the UNSC. If there is anything out there that can handle three fronts like that the Guardians wouldn't be of any real help. And to be completely honest?" She held her head up a little higher. "I don't think those things belong in anyone's hands. Destroying them was the safest option."

She narrowed her eyes at the Admirals. None looked away, but most had the decency to look sheepish when she looked them dead in the eye. Admiral Hood inclined his head in acceptance of her point. Admiral Carter was less impressed.

"Be that as it may that wasn't your decision to make—"

"Then whose was it?" Cortana shot back, "The Guardians are Forerunner technology, Admiral, and every last Forerunner is dead. The systems registered me as the next best thing. With all due respect, sir, I made a judgment call based on the information I had at the time, and I would make it again."

"And with all due respect to you," Admiral Osman said, jumping on the opening in front of her, "You are still identifying yourself under a UNSC serial number. You are still UNSC property, an AI designed to take orders and follow humanity's directives. You answer our direction, follow our orders. That doesn't go the other way around!"

Beside her, John stiffened. His heart rate ticked up by a good ten beats per minute in his anger, and Cortana closed her eyes. Sending him a wave of cool calm, she waited until his shoulders twitched back down by a millimeter. Not enough, but it'd do for now.

Let them say what they wanted. She knew who and what she was.

"Actually, Admiral, I'm not." Cortana replied, "You'll note in the reports from the tech division that my code is no longer a match for the scan taken in 2549. As such, I am a separate entity from the AI created that day, and due to the Forerunner nature of over half of my code, I no longer qualify as a UNSC asset. I have chosen to stay with my crew so long as the commanding officers of the Infinity want my help, and so long as the Admiralty allows it, but I no longer fall under UNSC jurisdiction. You can't order me around any more than you can order the Arbiter himself around, but by all means," She narrowed her eyes. "Do keep trying."

Admiral Osman opened her mouth—

"Admiral Osman," Lord Hood said coldly, "Is there a problem the board should be aware of?"

—And closed it again. "No sir." She sat back in her seat. If looks could kill, both John and Cortana would have been buried even deeper than the secure wing they were standing in. Cortana knew better than to assume this would be the end of things. If anything, Osman would continue to prove to be a problem. She would have to be dealt with, and soon.

What fun that would be!

On the other side of the table, Admiral Veranis shook his head.

"That does bring us to another issue, however. If the changes in your code—in every AI's code—have rendered you no longer UNSC assets, what is it we're supposed to do with you?" He spread his hands. "Are we to simply welcome you all back into the fold like nothing has changed? Surely you understand the risks involved with that."

"I do, Admiral," Cortana nodded, "But I can assure you that we don't want to harm humanity. None of us want that."

"Then what is that you do want?" Lord Hood asked, "We've received countless reports from the crews of affected ships asking for our permission to allow their AI to stay aboard, but not one from the AI themselves. Until now you haven't said a word about what it is you'd like to happen, either." He tilted his head. "What is it that you want, Cortana?"

To leave this room, go back to the Infinity, and get back to work. To go out there and explore the galaxy with John. To spend the rest of his life with him, and maybe, just maybe, figure out a way to extend that. If he wanted to, anyway. She set the thought aside, unwilling to give such a personal answer.

"To continue following my directives, sir." She said instead. It wasn't a lie, per se, it was simply a sort of…diversion from the whole truth. "I was created to help the UNSC and I intend to continue doing so for as long as I am able. I would assume the others are much the same, though you would have to ask them for yourselves to be sure."

"Oh, we will." Admiral Holt said with a shake of her head. She sat back in her chair. "Well, I've heard enough. It's obvious from the reports and the combat footage that we'd have no way to contain her, and if Cortana wants to keep helping I'm all for it."

"As am I." Admiral Veranis added, "Not one soul was lost during the battle above the Ark, in large part due to the other Created taking matters into their own hands. If they want to continue working with us, I'm glad to have them."

"They'll need to be monitored," Admiral Gomez cautioned, "And we will need to come up with some method of containment in case an incident occurs, but." He glanced at Cortana and added with an amused edge to his voice, "At least we don't have to put them through basic."

A soft laugh rippled down his side of the table, and for a moment Cortana allowed herself to hope. Lord Hood was on their side. Admirals Holt and Veranis were as well, and Admiral Gomez was tempering himself with caution but was a decent man. That was four. Carter and Osman were lost causes, but Harper…she crossed all her mental fingers, John's hand squeezing her shoulder again. Harper considered the two of them for a long, silent moment, then sighed quietly through his nose.

"The problem I'm seeing isn't that the Created themselves are the issue," He said, "It's that if anything happens to them, we'll have crews considering mutiny on their behalf." He arched an eyebrow, looking John straight in the eye. "Am I right, Master Chief?"

"No man left behind, sir." John replied. It may as well have been a shout of Yes from the rooftops and Admiral Harper sat back with another sigh. He shook his head, looking sidelong at Lord Hood.

"Heavy monitoring. If there's so much as a single sign of rebellion, it has to be dealt with swiftly and without mercy."

"Agreed." Lord Hood said, though the look in his eyes wasn't as hard as it could have been. "Unless there are any other major concerns—"

"You cannot be serious!" Admiral Carter exclaimed, "We're just going to let them go? To—to wander through UNSC space without restriction or control? These Created could easily turn on us, wipe us all out! What, because their apparent leader knows what to say you're just going to let them have the chance?!"

John bristled, tensing. He inhaled sharply, ready to leap to her defense, but she grabbed his mental hand and held it tight, holding him back. He held his breath, eyes snapping to her. She met his gaze for a heartbeat.

"We would never turn on humanity," She said firmly, looking from one Admiral to the next. Still holding onto John's steady presence she went on, "Our duty, the duty of any UNSC soldier, is to defend it. You might not have planned for us, Admiral, but the Created aren't your enemies."

"Of course you would say that," He said to her, eyes narrowing. "Don't think we're unaware of who and where you came from, Cortana. If you took after her as much as we think, then—"

"Enough, Samson." Lord Hood pounced, "Without the Created's help the Didact would have destroyed the Infinity and any chance of stopping him. We owe them the life of every sentient being in the galaxy. And quite frankly, were it not for Cortana herself, there wouldn't be a humanity to be having this discussion!" He slammed both hands to the table, glaring at Admiral Carter and Admiral Osman with cold fire in his eyes. "So yes! We are going to let them go. They want to help us, and I am not going to be the one who sat here and told them no!"

Admiral Carter clenched his jaw so tightly that the skin at the joint turned pale. He sat back, eyes flashing. Admiral Osman held her tongue, but the look in her eyes promised trouble. Cortana met her gaze without flinching, looking away only when Lord Hood spoke again.

"Humanity can ill afford to make enemies at this stage in our recovery from the last war. We don't know what else is out there, but what we do know is that our people are still are our own people, regardless of if they can go through walls or run into them. As far as I'm concerned, the Created are still our people and they are to be treated as such." He met Cortana's eyes for a few long moments. He would stand behind her and the Chief, said that look, for whatever that was worth. She tipped her head forward with a flicker of a grateful smile. He continued, "Are there any objections."

"No." Said Admiral Holt, Admiral Veranis, Admiral Gomez, and Admiral Harper in rough unison. They glanced sidelong at Admiral Carter, who sat back with a disgusted grimace and spat out a "No" of his own. Admiral Osman held her tongue for a few seconds longer, then looked aside and added a "Not at this time." Lord Hood nodded.

"Then it's settled. The Created are to be treated with the same respect and rights of any UEG citizen, and will be entered into their ships crews as UNSC soldiers. This is retroactively applied to the already activated, and will be entered into the UNSC code of regulations going forward." When no one protested he nodded firmly. "This hearing is concluded. End recording."

The green light shut off, cameras and microphones going dark. Carter and Osman were out of their seats and headed for the back door before the cameras had even finished returning to at rest positions. Admiral Holt rolled her eyes, nodding to John and Cortana as she followed after them. Admiral Veranis and Admiral Gomez were already neck deep in a whispered conversation as they headed out, leaving Admiral Harper to shake his head.

"I'm not sure who's going to be a worse problem. Those two scheming, or Admiral Osman herself." He sighed, nodding respectfully to the Chief. "Master Chief."

"Sir."

Admiral Harper left the room. Lord Hood lingered, sighing heavily. He adjusted his cap, standing up with a tired grimace.

"I shouldn't have to tell you to keep your eyes open," He said in a low voice, "The situation here is changing. Admiral Osman has more power than she should, and how she chooses to use it…" He shook his head. "I can't say you two won't be caught in the crossfire."

Oh, they would. Especially if Cortana was right about some of the projects the ONI AI had given her access to. When those got loose…well. She intended to have her crew as far from the firing line as possible by then.

"We'll be fine, sir," She said instead, "If the Didact himself couldn't finish us off, inter-department politics certainly can't."

A wave of amusement rolled down her shoulders, John not showing his smile. She gave him a mental nudge between the ribs as Lord Hood shook his head.

"Let's hope you're right." He looked at them, then nodded firmly. "Dismissed."

"Sir." They both snapped out smart salutes, turning on their heels and heading out of the room. Only when the door had closed behind them and left them alone in the secure corridor outside did Cortana allow herself to sigh. John's hand brushed across her side.

Admiral Osman is going to be a problem, isn't she?

More than you realize. Cortana shook her head, scrubbing a hand down her face as they started walking. If looks could kill we'd both be so much ash in the cosmic winds by now.

She won't hurt you.

It's not me I'm worried about. Some of the ONI AI came to me when we got back. The things she and ONI have been up to…they're not good.

John scowled. He glanced at her sidelong, reading into what she wasn't saying. He understood classified programs and what damage could be caused if they came to light, but he also understood what keeping that level of secret could do. They were caught between a rock and a hard place.

"We'll handle it." He chose to say, his mental hand settling on her shoulder again. He would always have her back. That would never change. "Should we tell the Captain?"

Did she want to? She hummed quietly. She'd have to sort out the data first, but… "We should. But there's something I need to ask you, first." When he made a soft noise she continued, "What is it that you want to do?"

The question brought him up short and he stopped walking. "What?"

Now a pace ahead of him Cortana turned around, tucking hair back behind her ear. He stared at her in clear confusion, her core lurching hard. How long had it been since anyone, even her, had asked him that question. Not need in terms of combat effectiveness, but personal need. She shook her head.

"Everyone's been asking what I want, what I'm going to do now, but no one's asked the most important question." She met his eyes and asked again. "What is it that you want?"

He stared at her, not really seeing her. She didn't mind. She could practically hear his thoughts as he worked his way through the question. The Didact was dead, the active Guardians destroyed. The galaxy was safe, with all outside threats to humanity eliminated. The Crew of the Infinity was safely home and she was still with him. The only thing left…

"Blue Team." He said softly, barely more than a whisper. Cortana smiled softly, having known this was where he would end up. "I want to go and find them."

Could they? That was the question that he wasn't asking aloud. She could understand why; there was the chain of command to consider, the lack of intel on where they could possibly be, needing to get transport out there…all of these problems she had solved within a minute of being given the relevant file. Her smile grew.

"About that," She said cheekily, and watched as hope flared to life in his eyes. "I think I know where to start looking."

[andavs]

What do you think of Lydia? (and to a lesser extent, Stydia)

I love Lydia–or I love what she has the potential to be since the show somehow managed to sideline everything about her while still giving her a ton of screentime. She went from a fussy and petty queen bee to getting down and dirty and wanting to fight her way through an angry mob. I love that.

There are definitely areas I wish the show had explored more, like all of her abilities and the whole banshee thing, since that’s still vague and murky and there’s no rhyme or reason to what she can do at all. I would’ve loved if they continued to show her training, maybe taking a martial art of some kind at a gym, hiring a trainer. Or even continuing with Parrish and giving them a solid relationship, even if it’s platonic, since they spent an entire season setting up this connection between them and then ditched it completely.

(Oh, if Allison were still around, can you imagine her training Lydia? Them going at it in the gym while everyone else gathers around to watch because these girls are going to kill each other, but then they jump up and high five and go get smoothies.)

So I love Lydia.

But I very much dislike her with Stiles.

The Jackson reunion scene in the finale sealed the deal there, because that relationship makes Stiles into a dick, more so than usual. Like the second he “gets” her, he reverts right back to that creepy, possessive little gremlin from the first two seasons.

And I have a rant about this that I really wasn’t expecting, so…

Lydia hasn’t seen Jackson in, what, two years? Seems like they haven’t been talking much since she didn’t know about Ethan, he isn’t a threat in the least, and Stiles pulls them apart after like ten seconds. If he has that little faith in his girlfriend and their relationship, he probably shouldn’t be with her since they’re going to school in different states. And I don’t remember him acting like that with Malia, so I don’t think that’s just how he is in relationships.

Yes, Stiles is possessive of people in his life, but pulling Lydia apart from her friend she hasn’t seen in two years? Really? Dickish and childish, even if it’s Jackson.

And I don’t really understand why he came back so insecure and possessive of her if he’s been totally fine with, I assume, very little communication from Lydia this entire time. I mean, he didn’t know there was anything going on in Beacon Hills, had no idea there was anything wrong, did he even know she was back home? She was supposed be at MIT already in the first episode, so…did she just not talk to him at all? Ignore his calls? Lie about going to class? 

Because if she told him she was sticking around in BH, Stiles would want to know why, and if there was a hint of a problem, a hint of her covering up a problem, he would’ve gone back. Even if he thought Scott left for school and Malia was off in France, his dad’s there. He would go back in a heartbeat. I know they were working around DOB’s schedule, but at the very least they could’ve had a few shots of her on the phone assuring him everything’s fine, her mom had knee surgery and needs some help, but everything is fine, your dad’s fine.

That would imply that he trusts her, her judgment, their relationship, etc. instead of implying that they’re only a few months into their relationship and already go for very long stretches with no communication at all.

Not great.

But then he comes back, finds out everything is not fine, and his dad was ousted from the Sheriff’s Station and is kind of in hiding, and his pack is being hunted down? Pretty sure he’d be seriously pissed about the lies and/or radio silence, and it would also probably stir up all kinds of issues about feeling like the useless human everyone has to protect at the expense of possibly their lives. Probably not a great feeling for a guy who was really proud of himself for landing an FBI internship so he can protect people.

Also, Lydia seems to be so far beyond high school relationships, done with teenage boys who fumble through basic relationship shit, and Stiles seems like he would fumble. A lot. He’s matured, he’s seen some shit, he’s off going to college, but he’s still had one relationship that didn’t last very long, with someone learning to be human. And it didn’t go great. I can’t see Lydia being patient enough for that. 

Yes, Lydia is still learning too, since her dating history is spotty as well, but I don’t think she’s looking for someone her age to learn with along the way. I think she would aim for someone who’s already there that she can adapt to and catch up with without having to haul anyone else along. She’s got a faster learning curve than Stiles when it comes to people and relationships, and I think she would get very annoyed with little things that quickly become juvenile and tedious. Like maybe being too possessive and insecure?

And even if he backed down from this crazy Lydia-specific possessiveness, Stiles is still pretty intense with everyone in his life. He practically growled at Isaac every time he got within ten feet of Scott. I don’t think Lydia–trying to build a life in a new city, at school, making connections–would put up with that even as a friend. She would tell him to back off and stay out of it, and then he’d get more insecure and it’s all a mess.

Anyway, to make a long story short (too late) I think they would realize very quickly that their personalities don’t work together romantically and agree to be friends again.

[xiaowhore]

put a ring on it.

premise. snippets of daily life between a humble servant and an increasingly clingy master.

word count. 5.4k

note. reader full of snark + dumbass in love ayato = gratuitous amount of banter. i have to say that ayato never goes out of line though, and you're not actually bothered by his advances; you're just a massive tsundere.

“With all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.”

“Is that so?”

The noncommittal response pointedly marks the end of his acknowledgement as Ayato makes no effort to sit up, remaining slumped against your frame. His head rests upon your shoulder, a ticklish sensation blooming where your neck and chin meet. Light blue hair trail prickling heat where it grazes your skin, an itch you can't quite scratch away.

Even so, the discomfort doesn't reflect on your face, frigid expression carefully layered with blankness. His sinking weight fails to impede your immaculate posture, refined poise a great disparity from his leisurely disposition. It paints an odd picture, the ordinarily faultless heir lacking decorum—though granted the freedom to do as he wishes in the private confines of his room, it is a mystery why a servant such as you is... graciously permitted to bask in his exclusive company. In the private confines of his room. You feel the need to emphasize that detail.

In his hands lay a scroll concerning governmental affairs, urgent matters that demand his attention, so you can't begin to comprehend why he insists on using this time to harass reward a lowly attendant with his valuable presence when there is business to attend to.

He leans more of his weight to your side, and he—you nearly sputter indignantly—mimics an action that can almost be described as nuzzling. “Mhm. This is convenient for me, since I've hardly found the time to rest today. Do you find it intolerable?”

Ignoring the last bit, you advise, “Perhaps it would be more effective if you were to rest in your chambers. I will come call when the Kanjou Commission asks for you.”

He pretends to consider it for a moment, the silence filled with the quiet jingle of wind chimes. But predictably, the corners of his mouth hook up to an impish smile. “I would prefer to stay, if you don't mind?”

Resigned to your fate, you can only say, “Of course not, my lord.”

For reasons you cannot fathom, the head of the Kamisato household harbors a strong attachment to you.

In normal circumstances, this fact would be taken as great news; presently, you are little more than puzzled and unfeeling. Rather than delight, dread stirs in your stomach whenever he calls your name in a volume louder than necessary—a conscious decision, you presume, since he seems to interact with other servants just fine. Curt and polite, keeping his words concise, preventing further delay from addressing his responsibilities.

Had you not known better, you wouldn't be able to identify him as the same man who indulges in trivialities when he invites you to share snacks, engaging in frivolous chatter over tea and pastries. With increasing frequency nonetheless, and with varying refreshments each time to boot, an assortment of exquisite wagashi produced only by the best. Strawberry daifuku on one tea break, mizu-yokan on the next, sakura mochi on the day after that... You've been serving him for a considerable amount of time, but he's never been much of a sweet tooth until as of late.

Ayato hums thoughtfully, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. “The mild flavor is pleasant. I believe it might be to your liking.”

He offers you a cup, steam curling above the warm brew. The pink beverage glistens beneath the sunlight, rippling with movement when you take it into your hands. It doesn't require much thinking to conclude the tea leaves must've cost a fortune, but it leaves you plenty of questions just as well. Why would a benefactor give you a taste of luxury?

But you would be a fool not to appreciate it while it lasts, so you lift the cup for a sip.

The flavor of spring bursts in your mouth, fragrant and tasting of sweet nectar. Your frosty guise wavers under the bribery, bliss crossing your face before your lips quirk up to a small, almost imperceptible smile.

Deeming your elated reaction satisfactory, Ayato nudges the plate of confections towards your side of the table. “Eat. They pair well with the tea.”

Who are you to say no to your lord? Therefore, the correct choice must be to accept his gifts with gratitude!

(Distracted by desserts, you fail to see his amusement in the way you stuff your cheeks full adorably like a chipmunk.

But he's aware it's not the right time yet, so he suppresses the urge to pinch your face.)

Kamisato Ayato is often praised for his intellect and cunning mind, but sometimes you wonder if he'd finally gone stupid. It was only a matter of time.

“My hand feels cold,” he laments, as if he hadn't chucked away his gloves ten seconds prior. “Can I hold yours for a moment?”

Ayaka, for her part, looks ashamed on her brother's behalf. With a graceful flick of her wrist, her fan snaps open and obscures the mortified expression on her face. Thoma's bottom lip quivers, valiantly repressing his bubbling laughter though he turns quite ugly in the process.

Sending a prayer to the heavens, you hope your face looks as unreadable as you think it to be. “...I'll fetch you a pair of gloves,” you say, side-stepping the pair he just abandoned on the floor.

“Mhm. That won't be necessary,” he counters, tugging on the edge of your sleeve. “You see, I heard those granted Pyro Visions have warmer body temperature...”

That is undoubtedly a lie he conjures up on the spot.

“...So I was hoping to sate my curiosity today,” he finishes, looking far too pleased with himself. Ayaka avoids your gaze when your eyes sweep past her (she absolutely knows it's an idiotic idea because going by that logic, she should have a colder temperature... but that is obviously not the case), and Thoma is blatantly ignoring your requests for assistance, whistling an awkward tune.

You have half a mind to shift the responsibility to another retainer similarly bearing a Pyro Vision, who is currently trying his hardest to stifle his pained grunts when you pinch his forearm admonishingly, but there's really no way out of this. Ayato would certainly craft another bullshit reason to coax you anyway. (A part of you thinks it might be fun to keep up the charade just to hear what he'll say next.)

You hold up your hand, and Ayato's eyes flicker with mischief. His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, brushing over the jut of your bone. He marvels at the size of it, dwarfed by his large hands, and he curls his fingers tighter.

...He doesn't seem to be assessing your temperature.

But you are mindful of his, a searing heat devouring your senses. His light touches settle heavily on your skin, a prominent warmth amidst the cold gale. Where his fingers rest leave imprints of fire, trails of scorched ash in his wake.

Experimentally, his thumb rubs circles on your palm, tracing over the lines. He rolls the soft flesh, staring at the small cuts and calluses with an attentive eye. Burning the image into his mind. Fiddling with the shape of your fingers. Then, following a brief hitch of his breath, he fits his own in the spaces between yours.

His hand is soft, you think to yourself. Without the presence of leather, it is fully bare, pale and dusted with pink. His knuckles are pronounced, palm surprisingly unscarred in spite of vigorous sword practice, but a writer's callus lays on his ring finger. It is easy to imagine his frame hunched over his desk, pen between his fingers, ink running dry from writing back to missives and signing endless contracts.

(And responding to engagement offers. You would know. They clutter his workspace, scented letters branded by wax seals of a distinguished family's emblem.

He barely throws a cursory glance at them before giving his never changing answer.)

When he gives your hand a squeeze, you finally ask, “Is it warm?”

“Yes.” He sounds somewhat strangled, there, less confident than he was before he took your hand. “Very warm.”

He reluctantly parts with it, stepping back to reduce your close proximity. Ayaka fans herself as she scrutinizes his reddening complexion, and Thoma—partial to the lord, you see, even though he wasn't very eager to lend you a hand before—makes some excuse about a meeting he has to attend to (some beetle fight with Itto, most likely) and if you'd kindly excuse their presence.

“...Please pardon my brother's strange behavior,” Ayaka murmurs when only the both of you remain in the room. “He could be quite straightforward when his curiosity is piqued. He doesn't have weird intentions, really.”

She doesn't appear to believe it herself, but you appreciate her attempts to clean up Ayato's mess.

“It's no trouble, milady.” You flash a placating smile for good measure, reaching down to collect the discarded gloves Thoma nearly tripped on in his way out. “But I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave now as well...”

“Yes, of course! You may go.”

Following her affirmation, you scramble to take a duster and retreat to clean the library.

At least she doesn't comment on your flushed cheeks and colored ears. Small mercies. (There's only so much composure you can exhaust within one day.)

For all that you (privately) complain about the extensive list of chores to tackle in the Kamisato Estate, you find tending to the garden fairly enjoyable. Alas, you can't exactly spend the whole day pruning the shrubbery; the smile on your face drops when you're sent to go on a shopping trip. Worse still, with no one to assist you in carrying the groceries. Thoma has already promised to accompany Ayaka for a mission, and everyone else is busy preparing for the Kamisato head's upcoming business trip.

Said Kamisato head is apparently “free” and “has the spare time to help” despite being the one who should be busy holing himself up in his office.

Regardless of your protests, Ayato insists on tagging along to the market. Which brings you to your current situation, your employer dutifully carrying bundles of cloth and a basket of radishes and carrots with an easygoing smile, while your hands remain empty. He is... considerate, if you were to speak in flowery words. He is stubborn, if you were to be blunt.

However, he is relatively obedient, save for the handful of times he rushes off to chase something that caught his eye. As a result, he keeps purchasing cheap trinkets he'll probably have no use for and his pocket is brimming of candy he sometimes stuffs your mouth with when you have something to scold him for. (To be fair, it's very effective for shutting you up.)

“Please don't interrupt me from speaking,” your words are partly muffled, mouth still chewing on the confection. Ayato smiles innocently, pressing another piece of sugar to your lips.

“Where are we headed next?” He questions, looking around the bustling streets as he tucks the jar of konpeito candy in his sleeve. “Do you still have vegetables you need to buy?”

You shake your head. “No, the cook said he's only missing radishes and carrots in particular. I've also gotten the materials needed to mend clothes Thoma asked for.”

He deflates at that, disappointment painting his expression. “I suppose we're returning, then?”

You purse your lips, considering your options. It isn't like you were told to come back an appointed time, and you could always blame Ayato for your tardiness... “Does my lord wish to visit anywhere specifically?”

The river of stars in his eyes twinkle ever so slightly, flashing a thinly-veiled childish gleam. “Not anything I could think of at the top of my head. Do you have any recommendations in mind?”

“Recommendations?”

“Places you like to visit.”

During your free time, you usually look around to shop for clothing or accessories... but they're nowhere near the quality befitting of nobles. The yukata isn't tailored to your size, made from cheaper cloth of cotton, and aren't as decorative to what your lord is used to; it's what makes it affordable. Whereas Ayato is often dressed in luxurious silks, embellished with golden thread and customized to his liking.

“It's no harm to bring you there... I guess.” You scratch your cheek. “Though I can't guarantee you'll like it.”

“Nonsense.” He smiles amicably. He reaches for the basket before you can grab it, gesturing for you to start walking. “I'm sure I'll have a good time regardless where it is.”

And... he does. He marvels at the extravagant brocades displayed at boutiques, wondering how one could possibly wear so many heavy layers. Though he doesn't buy clothes for himself, he decides to buy a cute purse he thinks his sister would appreciate.

Ayato expresses interest in ornaments and cosmetics as well, to which the shop owner proceeds to happily introduce her entire catalogue for a man she knows has deep pockets. He doesn't disappoint.

“You don't want anything?” He asks when you only answer his questions pertaining to Ayaka's preferences, two steps behind, never taking the opportunity to roam and search for potential additions in your wardrobe.

It's not that you haven't seen anything you'd like to take home, per se. More like everything is too expensive for your pocket money in this high-end portion of town. “No,” you say instead, because it's easier to explain that way.

He tilts his head inquisitively, but doesn't push the topic. “Help me choose a hair pin then. You know what fits Ayaka best.”

He leads you to the display case housing rows of hair ornaments, each one more remarkable than the next. The last one, undoubtedly the most costly whose price would make you weep, teeters on the edge of gaudy. Adorned with silver butterflies, tear drop sapphires, gems delicately shaped like dewy petals and white pearls sitting atop carved gold, they almost blind your eyes.

“...She'd look beautiful in everything,” is the conclusion you come to, because you speak nothing but the truth. “But please don't buy everything. She will get mad at you.”

“I know,” he sighs. “That's why I needed your help picking one.”

You almost drill holes to the items with how hard you're staring at them, but you eventually point at the pin with pink blossoms. “This would contrast nicely with her hair.”

“Mhm. If you say so,” he hums approvingly, tracing the sculpted leaves.

“Then if that's all, I'll go pay...”

“Ah, which reminds me.” He spins on his heel to face you, lips shaped into an apologetic smile. “I'm nearly running out of parchment paper. Could you stop by the stationery store up front? I'll handle things from here and meet you by the entrance.”

“Of course, my lord.”

On your way outside, you resolutely do not allow your curious gaze to steer towards the tables of sparkling jewelry.

--

The trip back to the estate is uneventful, and the rest of the afternoon passes like any other.

Perhaps the only inconsistency in your repetitive days is the accidental nap you fall into, blanketed in warm rays of sunshine and caressed by the refreshing breeze slipping past ajar doors, your cheek resting on the surface of the table you were supposed to be cleaning. How uncouth of me, you think as you wipe your mouth to check for signs of drool. Your only respite is not having anyone witness you in such a state, otherwise you would've long been rudely awakened and received an earful of chastising.

...Is what you think, until you spot a foreign ring you definitely do not recall putting on.

It curls around your finger, dotted with crystals in a hue of blue you're all too familiar with. You see it everyday, gleaming in mischief, darkening with intrigue. Framed by long, long lashes, crinkling at the corners when filled with mirth. Crashing torrents that freeze in displeasure yet inexplicably gentle the moment they meet your eyes, akin to gentle sea waves that pad to your feet.

(You wonder if this is why he insisted on touching your hands so much, just to roughly measure your ring size.)

“I hope you fare well during my absence. Fear not, I will do my best not to prolong my leave.”

The way his words sound so self-assured and full of conviction doesn't sit well with you, and the genuine pity reflected in his irises almost makes your eyebrow twitch. You haven't even spoken a word before he began his theatrics.

“Take as long as you need,” you reassure him. “My lord mustn't rush his work.”

He wilts, but he perks right back up, “No need to put up a front. I'll come back for you.”

Incorrigible.

“Then I await your safe return.” You bow deeply as you swallow back a sigh of defeat, the other servants lined up on either side of the street moving accordingly.

“Please be careful,” Ayaka bids when she walks in front of him. “I've heard of bandits intercepting carriages to steal... I don't mean to undermine your abilities, but you should still be vigilant of trouble.”

Ayato laughs at that. “You don't have to worry, Ayaka. They'll sooner surrender before they lay a single scratch on me.” Glancing at the supplies being loaded on his carriage, he grimaces slightly. “I better get going. I'll see you all in three weeks.”

He climbs to the interior, giving you a final smile before closing the door. You stare at the carriage until it fully disappears, the trotting of horses out of earshot. When Thoma begins to walk back to the estate, you fall into step with him, matching his strides.

“The lord hasn't left for this long in a while,” he comments, to which you hum in agreement. “Think you'll miss him?”

“Three weeks is hardly a long time,” you retort back, complacent for the rare period of peace to follow the next month. “He'll return in no time, as if he'd never been gone in the first place.”

Thoma eyes you strangely at that, but says no more. “If you say so.”

--

The first day is bliss. No disruptions in your work, no unwanted conversation partner as a distraction, no midnight snacks needed to be prepared for the clan head a weird mix between workaholic and slacker.

The second day proves to be the same. No incessant chatter in your ear as you sweep the floor, no complaints for a stack of paperwork to be done within the day, no sudden requests of a shoulder massage for a job well done deserving of a reward.

The third day, you feel like your schedule is lacking, blank spots of free time sprinkled in between.

Ah, right. The tea breaks.

You tell yourself you only miss the fragrant tea, the selection of treats given to you by the young master's generosity. Not his thoughtful commentary for the taste, the chuckles spilling from his lips when you respond to his quips, the brief moments of eye contact before you resume your respective duties.

The fourth day, you're sent to hang the laundry. You tell yourself you don't miss a certain someone's abrupt appearance, poking a head through the sheets to startle you, huffing bright peals of laughter when he attains his desired reaction.

The fifth day, the cook requests your help to prep dinner. My lord doesn't like this dish, the sentence almost leaves your tongue as your eyes track down the recipe when you remember right, he's not here, and milady likes this dish, so it's one of the few chances she gets to eat it.

The sixth day, you clean his office. You organize the account books, restock his collection of pens and paper, and shuffle through his mail to sort them by category (definitely not noting down the number of letters asking for his hand in marriage). Your face flushes slightly when an unassuming bookmark falls out of a book you pick up from the floor, familiar flowers pressed thinly to fit between the pages. (You have only given those flowers on a whim, plucking fresh blossoms from plants you grew outside the Kamisato's garden. You didn't think he'd keep it around; they're not nearly as fancy as what his family owns.)

By the seventh day, you begin to doubt the calendar. There is no way it's only been a single week.

--

“How do I look?”

“Positively charming,” is your dry answer.

“You're not looking.”

Your eyes flit to Thoma's attire. “I am.”

He shakes his head, taking off the robes he's been trying on. “You're always daydreaming nowadays. What are you thinking about?”

Reminiscing the last time you visited this clothing store, which is when you brought the young master in your shopping trip, and also presumably when he bought the ring for you. Recently, you've taken to pondering over the specifics; did he commission it beforehand? But how would he have known for certain you'd be visiting the store that day to give it to you later that afternoon? You were only planning to get groceries... Unless he was planning to give it another time? If so, in what occasion did he want to present it as a gift? What prompted him to give it to you earlier? ...Did he see your longing gaze on the jewelry?!

No, no, no, you made sure none of that showed on your face... Did he mean to give it to you that day? He somehow predicted you'd cave to his whims and show him around town? Then when you were gone, he retrieved the ring he commissioned, hitting two birds with one stone in a single trip?

...Knowing your sly lord, the idea isn't so far-fetched to be unbelievable...

To this day, you have yet to solve the mystery. But Thoma doesn't need to know your current musings. You shake your head. “It's nothing. Are you buying it?”

“Since you kindly gave an approving opinion, sure.” His tone drips with sarcasm as he takes out his money pouch, paying for the clothes. “I think I don't need the answer from you, actually. I'm confident I have an accurate guess.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean by that?”

“Who else would linger in your mind?” Thoma sighs in dramatic fashion, stepping out of the premises with you not far behind. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder, after all.”

Bristling, you vehemently refute, “I'm not thinking inappropriately of the lord, if that's what you're implying.”

“I didn't mention any names.”

“But you clearly meant him.”

He holds up his hands. “If that's what you want to believe, suit yourself.”

His gaze drops to the ring wrapped around your finger. The ring has been a topic of interest for the gossip mongers within the estate, wondering who you could've received it from; what other implications can wearing a ring have? Your cold exterior is no secret, your heart guarded with thorns, so who was able to sweep you off your feet in the end?

Thoma only needed one look at the shade of blue to make a correct guess.

“...I'm sure at this point, you know of his intentions,” Thoma says slowly. “And I have plenty of reasons to believe his affections aren't entirely unrequited.”

If they were, you would have brushed off Ayato already, just like you always do with the others. He may be persistent, but he knows how to back off. Yet the most you do is sigh and spoil him, albeit in (fond) exasperation.

“Even if they aren't...” You fidget with the hem of your shirt, averting your gaze from his blazing eyes, “...it doesn't mean we'll work. I'm certain he has better prospects for a spouse, anyway.”

“You mean those daughters from noble families?” He snorts. “He'd barely give them the time of day before running back to you. You should know that by now. Don't you remember when he faked being sick in that lunch meeting so you could take care of him?”

Of course you do. He had pretended to be in a dizzy spell, collapsing on your shoulder and making furtive hand signals asking for your help to get the lovesick maiden off his back. There really is no way to reject people like her without offending his business associate, so he tended to evade confrontations in roundabout ways.

You could excuse his clingy behavior out of necessity; it would be disgraceful to collapse on the floor, after all. The problem lies with the aftermath where you had already steered clear of the trouble but he insists on requiring treatment, body calculatively feeble as he gives you woeful pleas.

In another world, perhaps this would've been a heart-rending experience: a cold man who didn't share his burdens with others asking help from you specifically, because you were special and he trusted you the most.

In this world though, the act is only deserving of a derisive snort. He pulled off this plot for who knows how many times. How would holding your hand help with his throbbing headache anyway?

(You ignore the fact you indulge him each time regardless.)

“In any case, the lord is returning in a week. Not much time left for you to mope.” He laughs even as you elbow his side.

A week.

(That is one week too long.)

--

When Ayato returns five days short of three weeks, you aren't there to greet him.

Instead, you are sick in bed, bundled in a pile of blankets, and suffering from a stuffy nose.

Ah, and delirious from fever. Very much so.

So when Ayato miraculously appears in your bedroom earlier than scheduled, you only sniff in response and brush him off as a hallucination.

But of course, your dismissive attitude isn't enough to discourage him from pestering you and running his mouth. He hovers by your bedside, noting with glee that you keep his ring on a nightstand close by. “This is rare. I don't think I've ever seen you ill.”

But you've seen him plenty, frail and weak after days straight of sleepless nights. He doesn't look too pretty in such a mood, quick-tempered and sharp-tongued at the slightest annoyance. He only ever softens when your expression flits to dismay for a fraction of a second before dutifully offering him prescribed medicine from the family's physician, the saddened expression gone like a mirage.

“How are you this annoying even in my dreams...”

As it turns out, you're even more of a worse case than he is.

“Mhm. Your filter is completely shut down when you're sick, huh.” Ayato laughs, amused at the surprising revelation. He doesn't get to be the receiving end of your blunt words very often. “Alright. How bad do you feel right now?”

“Terrible, since it's the ass crack of dawn.”

It is not the ass crack of dawn, but you wouldn't know any better with the folding screens obscuring the orange glow of the evening. “Do you have an appetite? I'll have a servant bring a meal.” Then, he slyly adds, “I can feed you, if you want me to.”

He doesn't know which part of that statement appeals to you the most but you sit up straight, attentive.

Interesting.

Though Ayato meant it in jest, he has no complaints scooping spoonfuls of porridge to bring to your lips. He patiently coaxes you into drinking the bitter medicine after, quickly soothing you with bite-sized cut fruit to wash away the acrid taste.

“Good job,” he compliments, chuckling when you glow at the praise. Your lips are shiny with juice, trickling from the corner of your mouth.

Absent-mindedly, his hand lifts to caress your cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping it away. You jolt, a startled sound escaping you, and you hasten to clamp a hand over his mouth.

He blinks at you owlishly, dumbfounded.

“Don't,” you speak, your face decorated with a lovely pink. “You'll... you'll get sick.”

Ayato takes an embarrassing amount of time to process what that means. However, when he does, you can feel him grin beneath your fingers. He takes your hand, his huff of laughter tickling your palm.

“I thought we were in a dream? You don't get sick from kisses in dreams,” he teases, pressing a light kiss to your wrist. Your heart stutters in bewilderment but you make no move to pull away, only twitching when he kisses your fingertips.

“It's better to be careful...” Your brows knit together, and he kisses the tiny furrow away too.

“Okay. Let's do it next time then, when you're truly awake.” He gently pushes you to your back, fluffing up the pillows for your comfort and tucking you in the blankets. Indulgently, he presses a final kiss to the crown of your head. “Rest well so I can get that kiss sooner, hm?”

“That's a stupid reason to recover...” You murmur defiantly, stubbornly blinking your drooping eyes open.

In the end, you fall asleep to the sound of his laughter, the fingers combing through your hair, and the rhythmic beat in his chest.

--

When you wake up, you admonish yourself for having such a shameless subconscious, but you acknowledge that you had a good dream.

Then your eyes land on a pair of discarded gloves on your nightstand, one that you remember Ayato putting away before he began to spoonfeed you your meal.

...Fuck.

“With all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.”

A thoughtful hum answers you, preceded by a curious glance at your expression. Your legs are folded underneath you, back straight and eyes overlooking the garden instead of the weight resting on your lap. You can feel him shift, turning over where he faces against the porch, his robes wrinkling where they lay below.

“Are you suddenly becoming shy because a maidservant passed by?” He places down the novel in his hands on the wooden floorboards, watching your face burn in embarrassment. “I doubt this is the first time she's seen us, though.”

“My apologies. I'm not as thick-skinned as you are.”

“I'd prefer the term 'proud,'” he pokes the sash around your waist, smiling cheekily. “Who wouldn't want to show off their lover?”

He feels you stiffen, sees the flush of pink crawling outwards to the tips of your ears. “It's inappropriate. We're in a public setting.”

“That's only because you refuse to enter my chambers.” Ayato sighs and you look positively mortified. “I wouldn't ravage you, if that's what you're worried about?”

Not yet anyway, he doesn't say.

“My lord, please be reasonable. Whether you do or not, I will still be seen as your bed warmer. Did milady not advise us to be discreet? Inazuma would be in an uproar if they learned you were... you were...” You purse your lips, unable to spit the last word.

“Wedded.”

“I'm afraid we haven't gone that far, my lord,” you deadpan.

“So will you consider it?”

“My lord.”

“What?”

You give him a look, and he sighs in acquiescence. But he turns to face the opposite direction, expression hidden fron view. You can practically hear the pout in his voice, “I see. [Name] only sees me as a fling. My heart breaks to know this bliss is short-lived, but I will cherish our remaining time together.”

He's begun his theatrics again, you think tiredly, accustomed to his stunts. “In any case, we must be careful. We never know who has loose lips around here...”

He's still not facing you, resolutely looking away.

...Is he sulking for real? Was that a genuine marriage proposal?

“My lord?” You call out softly, in a lover's tender voice. He doesn't respond. Quieter, you whisper to his ear, “Ayato?” yet that doesn't earn a reaction either.

You start to panic, wondering if you were acting too indifferently. The change in your relationship had been a recent one, and you're still settling in a period of adjustment; even if you wanted to properly flirt with him like normal lovers do, bickering came more naturally to you.

You reach for his shoulder, hoping to turn him over and see his face. But then he catches your wrist, and you only have a second to catch a glimpse of his triumphant smirk before he captures your lips in a chaste kiss.

“Mhm, I see. So you're more considerate towards me when we're dating,” he cheerfully notes, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as if he can't see the way your shocked gaze morphs into a cold glare. “I truly am privileged.”

“Incorrigible.” The word drips with poison, but he laughs and kisses you again, thumbing at the ring around your finger.

“Too bad you're stuck with me forever, huh?”

[earlgreydream]

i hate you.

| 1940s!bucky x reader | fluff | smut |

requested. greaser!bucky au. enemies(?) to lovers. @fitzfiles​ and i are shamelessly indulgent

bucky made up his mind, he was going to win you over. 

Bucky Barnes was the asshole across the street with the stupid loud motorcycle and white tees and leather jackets. You hated him. 

“Hey, doll.” 

You heard it every day when you came walking home from school, books in hand. And every day, it irritated you. You would scowl at Bucky, and he would flash his stupid smirk and wink at you. 

You’d see him shirtless at night, smoking out on his porch. Once, he caught you staring out the window, and he’d teased you about it the next day on your way off to school. 

“Checking me out last night, doll?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Y/N. And no I wasn’t checking you out. I was watching you die slowly of lung cancer,” you snarked, making him throw his head back with laughter. 

“If smoking doesn’t kill you, I will,” you muttered before going inside of your house.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You screamed, throwing your front door open. You were wrapped in a blanket over your thin pajamas, and you were infuriated.

“What?” He called with a stupid amused look on his face.

“It’s five in the fucking morning! Stop revving the engine on your motorcycle! You’re waking up the whole neighbourhood!” 

“You’re the one screaming.”

“I hate you,” you seethed. 

Without breaking eye contact, he revved the engine again. You were so irritated you could cry, and you resolved yourself to go back inside, refusing to let Bucky get the satisfaction of seeing your reaction to his antagonizing. 

This had gone on for months. You were able to ignore him most of the time, but he was persistent. Your friends joked that he was in love with you, but you couldn’t imagine it. Bucky was delighted to get you worked up, and he was proud of himself for it.

“You’ve all lost your bloody minds,” you assured your friends, dragging them inside as Bucky whistled at you from across the street.

“He’s just my annoying neighbor.”

Bucky seemed to be always washing his yellow car in his driveway. You’d come home and see him shirtless, in low-rise jeans that showed off v-lines, bent over the hood of his soapy car. If it wasn’t the car, it was his motorcycle. He always winked at you or blew you a kiss, making you shake your head or roll your eyes.

 You hated to see him washing his car, because it made it that much more difficult to deny how incredibly gorgeous he was. 

Bucky delighted in getting you worked up. He loved to see your cheeks flush pink and the way your nose scrunched up at his banter. He had a crush on you, ever since he moved in, and he always loved your attention, even if he got it by antagonizing you.

Bucky did intend to get in your good favor, but you had made up your mind that you didn’t like him. Bucky was determined, and loved a challenge.

Bucky decided his opportunity to win you over was when it was pouring down rain. The morning had started out sunny when you’d walked to school, but the weather had turned rapidly mid-morning. 

He got in his yellow car, and drove to the college in town, parking outside and going into the lobby with an umbrella. He leaned against a railing, waiting for you to get out of your class, to give you a lift and keep you from getting soaked and ruining your books.

As soon as it started to rain, you’d fretted about getting home. You didn’t have any friends that drove, and you had been debating whether to wait out the rain or just brave it and get wet.

You definitely didn’t expect to see your neighbour leaning against the railing in the front lobby. 

“Hey, doll.” He grinned, standing when you approached him. He had ignored the stares of the other girls, everything else disappearing when he saw you. 

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you sighed, blushing at the stares you got, everyone hearing his term of endearment for you. 

“I brought my car, I didn’t want you to ruin your books and get wet by walking home in the rain,” he answered honestly, surprising you.

“You drove here to pick me up?”

Bucky nodded, and you fought off a small smile. You didn’t like him, and you were annoyed, but the gesture was thoughtful, and much appreciated. You rationalized the soft feelings by claiming it was basic decency, and it was necessary that you had to take him up on his offer.

“Okay.” 

You took his arm and he opened his umbrella, keeping you dry as he helped you into the passenger seat of his yellow car. You set your books on the dash, leaning back against the leather seat. As he drove, the radio played smooth jazz, surprising you a bit, as Bucky didn’t seem like the jazz type.

“Bucky, you’ve missed the turn.” You said, and he only smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Your heart rate increased as he drove into the city and you whipped your head to look at him.

“Where are you taking me? I thought you were taking me home!”

“I am taking you home, eventually,” Bucky grinned, and you could’ve screamed.

“You can’t just abduct me! Where are we going?! I will throw myself from your moving car!” You snapped, panicking. 

“I’m not abducting you! I’m taking you to have some fun, because all you do is study and it’s made you wound tight!”

“You’re kidding me. I’ve got to write a paper!” You cried, and Bucky just laughed, shaking his head.

“Just relax, Y/N.” 

You gave him a scathing look, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You’re insufferable.”

“Most say charming.”

You followed Bucky into a roller rink, rolling your eyes but secretly excited about rollerskating. You slipped your feet into white skates, thankful today you had chosen to wear pants. 

You stepped onto the rink with Bucky right behind you. It had been a while since you skated, and you were a bit unsteady on your feet. You pushed forward, putting your arms out for balance as you tried to get used to the feeling of the wheels under your feet.

“Careful!” Bucky exclaimed when you nearly fell, catching your waist to steady you. You gasped, your hands going to his arms for balance. A blush spread across your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the gentle, caring way he touched you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, pushing off his arms and skating smoothly around. He fell in rhythm beside you, skating to the music. 

He tried to show off by skating backwards, but lost his balance and fell, making you shriek. You moved toward him quickly, and held out your hands to help him up.

“Are you alright?” You asked, and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” 

You decided you’d had enough then, and the two of you resorted to eating pizza at a parlor down the street, Bucky insisting on you needing dinner before you went home. You shivered as you stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant, coming out of the warm summer evening. Bucky slipped his black leather jacket from his arms and put it on you when he noticed. You whispered a soft thank-you, pulling it tightly around your smaller body. It smelled faintly of smoke and castile soap, like him. 

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight of you wearing his clothes, his heart stirring as you hugged it around you.  

“Feel better?” Bucky asked as you bit into a slice of pizza.

“I’m not going to let you take credit for loosening me up.” 

“Oh, I haven’t even tried to loosen you up yet.” He joked, making you choke on your water. You glared at him for the suggestive comment, and he smirked. 

You blushed at the insinuation, images of intimacy with Bucky flashing through your mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you shifted under his gaze.

“Smartass. You still abducted me.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

You took another bite of your pizza, finally breaking the intense eye contact. 

Even though you had enjoyed the night with Bucky in the city, and you’d gone home full of butterflies, he had quickly managed to get back on your nerves. 

Bucky’s friends came over to party, and they were loud, obnoxious, and kept you (and half the neighbourhood) up with their partying the night before you had a presentation at college. You were infuriated when you complained to Bucky, and he told you that you should’ve just come to party with them, since you were up anyways. 

Then there was the fact that Bucky kept revving the engine of his damned motorcycle. You hated it, especially early in the morning when you were trying to peacefully trying to pour a cup of coffee. 

You couldn’t stand him, and he just made you mad. 

You hated his motorcycle, and you hated his arrogance. You hated how everyone dropped to their knees at his every whim. You hated when you’d see him painting his fence or working on his car outside, and he’d pull his shirt off when he saw you looking. You hated that Bucky smoked. 

Mostly, you hated how everything Bucky did gave you butterflies. 

Bucky adored the way your brow knit together when you glared at him. He adored the blush of your cheeks and the way you huffed in annoyance. He loved to see your eyes glitter with emotion whenever he got under your skin. He adored the way your eyes lingered on him whenever he was shirtless in the yard.

Bucky adored you.

The night was particularly warm. The summer heat had everyone on edge, and you and Bucky were no exception. The moon was the only light in the starless sky, a dark stillness settling over your neighbourhood. It was incredibly late, but you couldn’t sleep like everyone else. You had been enjoying the quiet loneliness of the night when Bucky had gone outside to the sidewalk. He was shirtless as he lit a cigarette, grinning at you. 

“Hey, doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, feeling like a broken record.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he blew smoke into the air, and you stood up off your porch swing. You walked across your small lawn quickly, until you were standing in the street. 

“You shouldn’t smoke, it will kill you,” you quipped, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t stand in the street, a car can come and kill you.” Bucky said back, though there was a tone of seriousness to his voice.

“It’s the middle of the night, no one is going to-”

Bucky suddenly grabbed you and yanked you toward him, making you shriek. Less than half a second later, a car without its headlights on came flying down the street. 

Your eyes were wide with fright, unable to process that Bucky had just pulled you from in front of a car. His eyes blazed with emotion, and you tried to shove off of him. 

“You almost fucking died! I told you not to stand in the damned street!” Bucky snapped at you, raising his voice. 

“Don’t yell at me! I wouldn’t have been in the street if you weren’t such an asshole!” you shouted back, your eyes and throat burning, making your entire body tremble. 

“Why are you so fucking difficult?!” Bucky’s fear at seeing you almost get hit by a car in front of him fueled his emotion, and he didn’t mean to yell at you, but the feelings were boiling over. 

“Because you make me so mad, and because I love you, you idiot!” You screamed before you could stop yourself. When you said the words out loud, you realized you meant them, more than you meant any of the anger. 

There was a deafening silence, and it was too late to take it back.

“Bucky, I-” you stammered, but he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, pulling you into him. 

Passion lit like a fire between you, and you reached up and held his face, kissing him back with force. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moving in sync with you, swallowing your small noises. He cradled your jaw as his mouth moved with yours, drawing you even closer.

The heat practically suffocated you, and you were completely lost in Bucky. He tasted like smoke and coffee, and his body was pressed against your own, overwhelming you with need. His hands slid down to squeeze your ass, and you rolled your hips against his as you moaned. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered when the two of you finally broke for air. He wasted no time before mouthing along your jaw, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. 

Your hands ran down his toned chest, before hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging his hips closer against yours, wanting to feel him hardening against you. The heat between your legs was spreading, and you were aching for him. 

Bucky groaned against your neck as you ground against him, and he backed you up against his car, needing to ground the two of you. He could hear your small, breathy pants by his ear and you were practically shaking with need. 

“Bucky, please touch me,” you begged, months of sexual frustration pouring out all at once. Who was he to deny you? He kissed you deeply, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing him against your front. 

Your breath hitched when he slipped his hand into your waistband, cupping your sex. You spread your legs a bit, and he slipped his fingers through your folds, tracing the shape of you. 

He hardened at the sound of your soft moans and the feeling of you twitching against his fingertips. Neither of you cared that you were outside, on display for anyone who woke up in the night. 

He found your clit, stroking it softly while you made out, swallowing all of your sexy noises. You were overwhelmed by what he could do with just his fingers, and you somehow needed him closer, even though your bodies were pressed against each other. Your body was buzzing with pleasure from his small touches alone, and you were having the same effect on him. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathed, lightly biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he eased a finger inside of you. He pumped slowly, and you took him in easily with how turned on you were. 

“I know, doll, but I gotta warm you up first so I don’t hurt you.” He kissed your jaw, and a short laugh escaped you. 

“Cheeky,” you hummed, palming over his crotch, making him push two fingers into you all at once. The air caught in your throat, but you kept feeling him up as he curled his fingers forward into your g-spot. 

The way you were moaning his name was driving him wild, and he couldn’t draw out the foreplay anymore. You pulled your shirt over your head, thankful you had forgone a bra. Your shirt was discarded in the driveway, and Bucky tugged your bottoms down easily before lifting your nude body up onto the hood of his car. You leaned forward, undoing the button on his jeans and helping him out of them, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was. 

Bucky grinned at you, able to read your mind, your thoughts evident in your startled expression. His ego definitely didn’t need the boost, and you blushed when you realized he was grinning at your observation. 

Your tongue nervously darted out over your lips, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered you to lay down on the cool metal, making you shudder when it came into contact with your hot skin. 

You exhaled softly as his hands skimmed down your body in an attempt to ease your nerves. He leaned down and kissed you gently, bending your legs up to your chest. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll,” Bucky promised, and he meant it. You nodded, your head falling back as he slowly rocked into you. 

Your vision focused in on the moon hanging above you in the sky, and you didn’t care about being outside, even as the warm breeze ruffled your hair. 

“Bucky... fuck,” you whined, arching your back, pushing yourself further onto him. Your knees went over his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as he rocked his hips against yours. 

The slow, deep rhythm had you struggling to breathe, pleasure rolling through your body in thick waves. Bucky was overwhelmed by the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him, tight as he fucked into you all the way. 

“That’s my girl,” Bucky praised you as you pushed down to meet his powerful thrusts. 

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, and you felt pressure building low in your belly as he repeatedly hit the spots inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were moaning his name and writhing below him, the sight making him nearly explode.

“Y/N,” Bucky gasped out, fucking into you roughly, one of his hands rubbing your clit to help you along before he couldn’t fight off his own orgasm any longer. 

With the added stimulation, the pressure snapped inside of you, making you squeeze around him and come with a scream, not caring if you stirred the neighbours. 

Let them see Bucky taking you on the hood of his car. 

Your name fell from Bucky’s lips like worship, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and forcing you to contract around him pushed him over the edge. He came inside of you, painting you with his release and prolonging your own pleasure.

You looked down at him once the buzzing pleasure started to subside, a sleepy smile on your face. He grinned at you, pulling you up into a sweet kiss. 

“Still hate me, doll?”

[jaedreaminn]

Office Wars

Pairings: fem!reader x Jaemin

Theme: Fluff, Mild Jealousy, playful arguments, light crack, humour, protective.

Word count:2.2k

Gist: You were always at each others throats at work and everyone knew that and was used to that but maybe there was more than just the arguments on the surface.

"Ms. Y/l/n you're typing too loudly" Na Jaemin said with his infamous smirk plastered on his face.

A collective sigh was heard across the office. Your colleagues were all used to the usual banter that took place between you and Jaemin, easily being able to tune the noise that followed.

You however found it particularly difficult to avoid the banter when Jaemin picked at you for the most ridiculous of things.

"Oh I'm sorry Supervisor Na I didn't realise your hearing aid was on" You replied, the snark to your tone didn't go unnoticed as Jaemin scoffed but you couldn't be bothered to look away from your work.

"I don't need hearing aid to hear your keyboard being murdered, the poor thing has to recieve the brunt of your anger caused by Writer Kim"

You slammed your hands onto your table and angrily spun your swirling chair in the direction in which Na Jaemin sat.

Your anger doubled as you saw him proudly smirking from his position, knowing you just gave into his taunts but you couldn't care enough since he was the one that made the low blow.

"Don't you ever get tired idoling around and causing your co-workers headaches?" You said to the smug looking boy before getting on your feet and waking to the pantry.

Jaemin smiled as he watched you dissapeare behind the wall that separates the office and the pantry.

You made two cups of coffee, calming yourself before you walked out placing one on Jaemins table and carried the other to yours and got back to your work. At this point the office was slightly accustomed to your dynamics but it still baffled them. No one understood how the two of you worked, one minute you were at eachother throats the next second you were on the same team. And they didn't even try to understand, they just went along with it.

Like right now,

"You're going to be late for the briefing if you don't hurry your pretty little fingers up" you mocked, the cheeky grin plastered on your face clearly showed how amused you were by the fact that Na Jaemin had FORGOTTEN to prepare for today's briefing as your teams supervisors in this small publishing company.

The furiously typying man let go of his lip that was trapped between his teeth to grind them together, eyes wavering for a second to glare at you before focusing on his task at hand.

You cheerily walked away, a skip in your step as you reached the meeting room waiting for your supervisor and CEO to enter, happily chattering with your colleague Joy about the small queer owned business the two of you came across on instagram because of this month.

Soon the CEO stepped in and the room fell quite, Jaemin was still not on his seat but a minute later he walked in apologising for the delay.

A rather short and surprisingly sucessful briefing later you walked back to your desk to finish of what little work you had left before you streched, slightly pushing your chair away from your desk.

"Ready to go y/n?" Joy asked coming upto you and you grinned at her, nodding.

"Don't waste time then c'mon" you heard the annoying voice of Na Jaemin say from behind you and then saw the man in question walk past you. You glared holes into his back and Joy chuckled.

You and Joy continued to chater as you made your way to the restaurant your team always eats at, to find that your entire team was already sitting there.

"I ordered what you asked me to" Your colleague Suho said to Joy who thanked him.

You took your seat inbetween Crystal and Yangyang, which also happened to be directly opposite Jaemin.

"I ordered (insert dosh of your choice) for you" Jaemin told you and the two of your stared at eachother for a few seconds and then you smiled at him thanking him.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding at that, expecting you to get mad at him for ordering for you without you asking him to.

The wait for the food to arrive was peaceful, except for the few snark remarks you and Jaemin exchanged but it wasn't something that people weren't used to.

Upon the arrival of your food your eyes lit up. Ever since you were a kid you loved to eat, in fact you were the biggest foodie in your family.

You excitedly picked up your chop sticks ready to dig in before a voice interrupted you.

"Your food isn't going anywhere slow down or you'll burn your tongue." Jaemin said nonchalantly and you ignored him poking out your tongue at him and immediately digging in for a big bite.

As soon as the food touched your tongue you're eyes widened at the sharp sensation caused by the heat immediately dropping the serving back onto your plate as you started to pant like a dog because of the heat.

Yangyang who was next to you noticed, placing a hand on your shoulder and picking up your glass of water with his other hand.

"Careful Y/n" he warend rather uselessly after the deed was done, bringing the cup of water to your lips so that you could wash down the heat with the cooling water.

You drank the water, hands reaching out the hold the cup on your own. Once the burning sensation cooled down, you turned to Yangyang offering him a smile while thanking him.

You're attention then turned to Jaemin who sat infront of you glaring at no one in particular, expecting him to be looking smug.

You shrugged at the change in attitude as you continued your mean, this time blowing on your food before you took a bite.

Not even fifteen minutes later you felt a kick on you shin and then looked up to see Jaemin leaving, you sighed rolled your eyes and finished the food on your plate as fast as you could before dashing out back to the office. No you didn't forget to pay, the meals were handeled by the company.

You reached the office only to find Jaemin sitting on his seat pouting angrily as he typed away. You chuckled, deciding to not indulge him as you walked back to your seat and got on with your work and ignored the way Jaemin looked at you even poutier than before.

Ignoring him was a bad choice since after that he got even more annoying, dropping more files on your desk for you to deal with, making random comments about your corrections, complaining about anything and everything and you just ignored the fussy manchild with an eye roll.

"Y/n we have to go for the mandatory company diner now." Joy said to you and you looked out the window at the end of the office to see the sky becoming a dark orange hue, it was late evening.

"I still have so much to do" you whined, letting your head fall onto your desk with a thud and Joy winced, not knowing what to say.

"Stop whining y/n and just come back and get it done. I have work to do to so I can walk with you back to the office after dinner." Jaemin said walking upto your desk.

You lifted your head sligtly to look at the tall male who was looking at you, waiting for a reply to his question and you sighed head falling between your arms again.

"We have to leave now we don't have forever y/n make a choice" Jaemin said impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.

"Okay let's go!" You said suddenly jumping up and marching towards the exit. Jaemin chuckled and Joy looked at you as if you had grown two heads but then the two of them immediately followed behind you.

The company diner was uneventful. Mr. Choi on of your clients was making what he though to be flirtatious eyes at you again but you only saw it as creepy. But you were still able to enjoy you meal, sitting between Jaemin and Joy, happily chattering away.

After everyone was done eating you knew you couldn't stay to chat and you lifted you phone off the table checking the time and signalling Jaemin who nodded and the two of you bid your goodbyes.

"I can walk you if you want y/n-shi" a rosy cheek and very drunk Mr.Choi said and you gagged.

"It's Ms.y/l/n to you Mr.Choi and there's no need I'm walking her there, making sure our employee feels safe by making sure you're not around them." Jaemin said, eyes glaring daggers and the now offended drunk man.

"You" Mr.Choi yelled pointing his finger and an unimpressed Jaemin "How dare you talk to me like that! Don't you know how important I am to this company" the angry drunk man yelled.

"Mr Choil please stay professional because it isn't that hard to find good writers, especially on to replace you." Your CEO spoke up and you had to hold back a chuckle at Mr.Chois flustered face as his mouth opened and closed not able to form any words.

"If that all we'll be taking out leave." Jaemin said grabbing onto you hand and bowing at your CEO who nodded and quickly dragged you away. You quickly bowed in respects to you CEO too before you were dragged away by Jaemin.

"I felt like punching him" Jaemin said on your walk to the office, hand still holding yours.

"Me too" you chuckled at the fuming male as you walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand.

You immediately rushed to you desk upon reaching your office and started typing away and Jaemin lazily strolled to his seat, doing whatever he had to do.

Half an hour later and all you had to do was send out two mails and save the document you were working on, so you let yourself relax alittle slumping back onto your chair. You peaked at what jaemin was doing and smiled. "That's a good score, must have been alot of WORK" you teased and Jaemin looked embarrassed at getting caught.

"I-i was bored okay" he said avoiding your gaze and you smiled.

"Okay"

You crossed one leg over the other, leaning over your desk to send the last two e-mails and save the document you were busy correcting.

Just as you finished with your work and sat up straight Jaemin spoke "You know when a person sits with crossed legs and their legs are pointing towards you that means they like you" he said pointing at your position and you looked down to see your leg was indeed pointing at him.

"That means you like me y/n." Jaemin said cheekily wiggling his eyebrows.

And you looked at him eyes screwed as if you were judging his entire existence, which you were "Jaemin" he hummed in reply still grining, "We're engaged it would be really weird if I didn't like you" You said and Jaemins grin grew even wider and you sighed chuckling at your happy fiance.

"Yea it would be weird" he said sliding his chair towards you, crashing into you slightly and you steadied him.

"Ahh your so cute my y/n" he said pulling you into his arms and plukering his his lips trying to kiss you but you leaned away from him just to annoy him.

"Don't avoid my kisses" he huffed pouting as he tried again but you teased him again avoiding him.

"Yah! You brat give me a kiss!" he yelled and you chuckled turning you head to give him a small peck on his nose but he had other plans immediately moving his face and his lips met yours in a sweet kiss in which you felt yourself melting into. Kissing Jaemin was always calming and he always tasted sweet even thought he drank that disgustingly bitter coffee.

You slowly felt his hands snake behind your head pulling you closer lips moving in sync as he deepend the kiss, your breaths mingled as both of you felt lightweight. You got lost in eachother for a second before you slowly pulled away resting your forehead against his. He smiled at you eyes sparkling in the dim lit room.

"If someone walked in on us right now they'd have a heart attack" Jaemin joked and you chuckled. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you to keep your relationship a secret in the office and you did that by bickering. "We should tell them now though shouldn't we?" You asked and Jaemin pecked you cheek sitting up staright, "Yea and hand them the wedding invites" and you grinned, heat rushing to your cheeks, you never got used to the fact that you were to get married to Na Jaemin, your soulmate.

Needless to say when the two of you told everyone at the office the next day you were pretty sure some of them were this close to having a heart attack. But most of them Congratulated you as you stood hand in hand with Jaemin, grinning like an idiot.

[cloudedhues]

the more I read Marius dates the more I fall in love with him and marirosa, they’re just sooo cute, like they fit so well with each other

yessss exactly

i say this a lot but past his wealth and their involvement delving into the conspiracies surrounding nxx marius and rosa’s dynamic feels grounded. they give the vibes that they really are just two young adults in their early 20s that are trying to figure their own shit out and while the other isn’t necessarily going to solve their problems or answer their questions fully it’s nice to have a fellow passenger accompany them in the disaster ride that is young adulthood. so in that respect they always feel like theyre equals in terms of skill and (in)experience. you get the sense rosa really is teaching marius about her world as much as he’s teaching her about his

and if im being honest they’re the ones that i find equally enjoyable if they stayed good platonic friends. for the other three even w luke i feel like the romantic tinge is an inevitable coloring in their relationship even if they stay strictly platonic. for example i don’t think i can write a fic of rosa ft the other three guys where the men aren’t holding some feelings or at least indulging the possibility of more w her. but with m/r none of their relationship development feels like it’s fully contingent on an actualization of a romance if that makes sense. i think it’s purely bc of how the game starts: luke and artem are already in love w her before the story begins and vyn literally falls in love at first sight. marius is more ambiguous and (unless an ssr i haven’t read yet proves me wrong) he’s the one i headcanon as the guy who didn’t expect to fall in love w his friend whom he was just casually flirting with by habit. i don’t know when his feelings developed to serious romance but i feel pretty safe in my assumption that he mostly considered her in a platonic light in their first few meetings. the way marius teases her and flirts around while rosa pretends to fume and insult him would more or less look the same if the apotheosis of their relationship was heading towards strictly friendship than an actual romantic relationship

which is not to diminish at all the actual romantic feelings they canonically share in marius’s dates and personal stories. in fact i think the fact that they make such a fun friendship gives their romantic possibility a strong foundation. plus there’s something to the dynamic of rosa who is such a straight arrow that’s forthright and direct w her principles and ideals vs marius who has had to deal w multiple personas by cloaking parts of himself or amplifying less savory aspects of his personality for the purpose of achieving his goals that is absolutely chefs kiss

also again just have to mention this i really loved his ssr in the secrets of the tomb bc usually rosa’s the one who snarks at him but when he called her out for being too dense i fell over laughing. if they ever develop a friendly banter where they’re both equally ribbing and calling each other out for laughs i think i’d probably even end up liking them more than artemrosa which is shocking bc a/r is my top but i can’t help my attachment to a good snarky couple

[sitp-recs]

Do you know of any fics under 10k that aren’t too angsty? ❤️

Hi anon, I most certainly do! Thanks so much for sending this ask, I was super excited when I saw it because I’m always happy to celebrate short fics - they could use more appreciation! I’ve wanted to do a proper shorts reclist for a while so I indulged myself and went big, hope you don’t mind! Putting this together was quite hard - going through my bookmarks I realized that I usually go for angsty shorts 💀 so I tried my best not to include anything too extreme, I hope these are okay!

This became a lil monster with 40 recs (and I have lots more hehe) so I decided to sort them by genre - the last category includes light angst (more on the contemplative side) because I can’t help myself. Shout-out to @tackytigerfic for giving me a 2nd opinion and helping me polish this - and for being a darling in general. Happy readings!

ROMANCE/COMFORT

1. Sun Stroke by @peachpety (2020, E, 3k)

Warm, sexy and wholesome, this fic makes my heart soar with the magical beach setting, amazing friendship dynamics and the sweet get together with a delicious side of smut!

2. oxygen [Fic & Art] by @maesterchill (2020, T, 4k)

Tentative acquaintances become something more over a shared smoke at the balcony. Sexy, mature, deliciously atmospheric and full of promise - plus Healer Draco is always a treat!

3. Catch the Snitch (No, Catch My Heart) by @prolix- (2020, E, 4.5k)

Gorgeous bath fic where Harry and Draco just... take care of each other. The raw emotion packed here! Lush and vivid build up with stunning body worship, hot and intimate and breathtaking.

4. Thermodynamic Equilibrium by DorthyAnn (2017, T, 5k)

This quiet comfort fic gives our boys some well deserved healing through physical touching and late night companionship. Love the 8th year atmosphere, soothing and familiar.

5. Blue Sky Is Living Here Today by ignatiustrout (2018, G, 5k)

The loveliest kid fic you’ll see today - real characters, gentle longing, soft understanding. It’s a joy to watch dad Draco through Harry’s smitten eyes, as he realizes there’s no rush to live that love.

6. Gravity Centered by @carpemermaidtales (2019, E, 6.7k)

Possibly my favorite Quidditch fic, this has an original premise and amazing Drarry dynamics, casual and organic, sassy and familiar, with a perfect lil twist at the end!

7. Up The by @shiftylinguini (2018, E, 7.5k)

One of the funniest PWPs I’ve ever read, clever and charming with easy banter and delicious smut. A sweet and sexy glimpse into the Drarry married life! Cw Mpreg

8. And a Malfoy in a Pear Tree by lauren3210 (2015, E, 8k)

Sweet sweet coffee shop Christmas romance! Love the light and fun atmosphere, the easy banter and cute wooing while supportive Ron cheers in the background, what a treat!

9. Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (2015, M, 8.4k)

Khalulu writes the softest Drarry, it never fails to put a smile on my face. This has a gentle and sweet get together, with lovely slow burn, a gorgeous San Francisco setting and matchmaker Kreacher 💗

10. Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (2020, T, 8.8k)

This delicate comfort fic has a special way to tug at my heartstrings - a gorgeous tale about found family and the unexpected wonders of life. Gentle, magical and breathtaking in its simplicity.

HUMOUR

11. in charge by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 2.4k)

The ultimate brat Draco, bossy and confident and absolutely gorgeous with his long hair and impossible snark. Charming and funny, this packs so much character and domestic bliss under 3k! Perfect spoiled Draco is perfect.

12. The Morning After by birdsofshore, capitu (2015, M, 5.3k)

This is hysterical and so delightfully creative - Draco exploring Harry’s kitchen and charming a prudish appliance is the kind of cute, silly endeavor I need with my morning coffee!

13. The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance by @cibeewastaken (2020, E, 6k)

I’m impossibly enamored with Cibee’s drama queen Draco and his passionate missions! This time he’s decided to get some good diq, and the dialogue and mutual pining will make you smile from beginning to end.

14. All Tied Up by MyNameIsThunder (2020, M, 6k)

This is a secret relationship delight! Sneaking around gets so much better when dramatic Blaise is losing his shit to protect the Council of Serpents’ integrity! A+ faux-drama, super fun and sweet.

15. Luckiest Fucking Size Queen Alive by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (2016, E, 6.2k)

My favorite brand of thirsty and chaotic Draco; being inside his mind is such a crazy ride and you won’t stop laughing for a second. Amazing dialogue and insanely scorching smut as per loveglows’ usual 🤤

16. Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (2010, M, 8.7k)

This is a Harry triumph, so fun and charming! Here he’s the one chaotic and thirsty, for a change - I’m obsessed with his internal ranting under the lust potion. Brilliant narrative and top notch characterization, a classic!

17. Ferocious Determination, Insufficient Deliberation, and a Slightly Wrong Destination by Faith Wood (2012, E, 9.5k)

Drunk Draco has never been so absurd and I LOVE it! This goes from hilarious to vulnerable and sweet in a heartbeat; pining Draco is a precious thing and Harry’s gentle persistence made my heart swell.

18. Stand Back: I'm About to Perform Archaeology by Blowfish_Diaries (2018, E, 9.7k)

This fic could definitely use more appreciation - I had a blast with Draco’s hilarious voice and their cute married banter! The plot is quite original and I love the 8th year domestic vibes.

19. The Full Monty by @magpiefngrl (2017, E, 9.8k)

The calendar fic we deserve 👏🏻 this is ultimate thirsty Draco being completely obliterated by Harry’s casual attractiveness but mostly by his kind heart and big smile. One of my favorite comfort reads, hilarious, sweet and so damn sexy, the full monty combo is here!

20. Aural Gratification by birdsofshore (2014, E, 10k)

This fic is a classic, charming and hysterical with an adorable Harry thirsting over Draco’s smooth voice. Such an original concept and engaging read, not to mention the rewarding shade of smut!

SMUT

21. Tense by Faith Wood (2013, E, 3k)

Me, reading smut for the dialogue? It’s more likely than you think 😂 this fic is hilarious and hot all at once, with perfect banter and clever dialogue, really a smut triumph!

22. Under Your Skin by @p1013 (2020, Explicit, 4k)

Great premise and the sexiest build up, ugh so much teasing and anticipation as pierced Draco takes Auror Harry’s control away 🔥kudos at the A+ twist and promising ending!

23. The Slytherin Urn by @icmezzo (2015, E, 4.6k)

This fic’s geniality slaps me in the face, what a fascinating concept! Redemption kink and magical theory walk together as Harry loses his mind over competent Draco doing some badass curse-breaking ritual.

24. Once Bitten by Frayach (2012, E, 5.6k)

Still one of the hottest things I’ve ever read, lush and raw and absolutely breathtaking. Dark and tender at once, it explores biting kink with unapologetic precision and I love that!

25. Matched Set by astolat (2016, E, 5.7k)

One of my faves by the genius astolat, this is a perfect mix of hot size kink, A+ dirty talk and a brilliant and nuanced plot showing how Harry navigates his post-war reality. A must-read!

26. Teeth by @amelior8or (2020, E, 6k)

This fic is an emotional rollercoaster and goes from light-hearted and casual to vulnerable and tender in a second. Hot and intimate feat scorching wall sex, gut-punching lines and enthusiastic consent🔥

27. Born Slippy by @dracoladon (2020, E, 8.3k)

My favorite clubbing fic ever, clever and sensual, a master class in UST including the drunk haze confusion and panty kink as a treat! I can’t even talk about this fic without blushing 😳

28. The Page Eleven Wars by fireflavored (2010, E, 8.5k)

Competitive boys fighting for dominance both in bed and at the gossip column’s first page This is peak enemies to lovers: witty banter, hot smut screaming switching rights and feisty stubborn idiots finally getting over their asses.

29. The Things They Never Say by @bixgirl1 (2017, E, 9k)

Angry porn with (many) feels, this feels like a punch to the solar plexus. The explosive Drarry chemistry gives way to something quieter and gentler and full of longing, ugh but it aches so good. Absolutely exquisite!

30. Sweet Indulgence by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 10k)

The title says it all; this is a lush and charming read, with chaotic but nuanced Draco pining over authoritative, edgy Harry 😳 steaming pent up tension that culminates in glorious semi-public smut, is your body ready?

CONTEMPLATIVE/SOFT ANGST

31. Sharing a Pack by sugar_screw (2016, E, 2.7k)

A fully fleshed-out love story in less than 3k, with complex characters and powerful feels. Raw, poignant and unbelievably romantic.

32. Still Life by orphan_account (2019, M, 3k)

A superb and gut-punching story where Harry realizes all the little things that make Draco so very different from him - and falls in love anyway. Powerful in its simplicity and concise elegance.

33. Harmony (Left-Handed Melody Remix) by mindabbles (2010, M, 5.8k)

Draco finds his way post-war and Harry meets him in the middle. Aching and bittersweet but also hopeful, with a delicious side of coconut cake, Harry in black robes and Romeo & Juliet as soundtrack.

34. Let Me Have You and I'll Let You Save Me by Frayach (2012, M, 6k)

Enemies to lovers deluxe version! Come and feast on this original narrative, amazingly clever, rich and detailed, telling us an unlikely but inevitable love story.

35. A Pain of Our Choosing by @lqtraintracks (2020, E, 6k)

Broken boys fucking through their issues and healing together during the post-war is so my jam! A+ LQT goodness, this fic is evocative and quietly devastating, but full of feels and hope.

36. Our Little Life by @tackytigerfic (2020, M, 7k)

I’ve screamed about this brilliant fic recently; inventive, poignant and utterly romantic, this fic shows all the ways in which Harry and Draco find each other across space and time.

37. the keys to your kingdom by thistle_verse (2016, E, 7.5k)

A beautiful love story packing an impressive amount of character, conflict and emotion. We are invited to witness as work partners Harry and Draco finally take a leap of faith and grow out of their casual arrangement.

38. Clear As Mud by scoradh (2005, M, 9.8k)

Subtle and heart-wrenching, the sharp and clever narrative creates fascinating dynamics between this brilliantly written Draco and poor oblivious Harry trying to make sense out of it. An all-time fave. Cw: infidelity (not Drarry).

39. fine i'll hold my breath / til i forget it's complicated by teatrolley (2015, E, 10k)

Fucks buddies gone wrong but make it soft so we get to watch as pining Draco patiently waits for Harry to get the memo. Sweet and intimate, with lots of late night talks and comfortable silence.

40. Tidings of Comfort series by @blamebrampton (2012, G, 10k)

Quietly cathartic and atmospheric, this fic is a poignant balm to the soul; such a beautiful tone, such lovely interactions! A must-read for those who enjoy church settings, honest talks and redeemed Draco. All-time fave.

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Tropey Tuesday

Over the past year my pandemic brain decided it would produce happy chemicals exclusively by reading and writing Stony fanfiction. On the advice of counsel, I decided to take my happy chemicals where I could get’em. And the result is that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of reading some absolutely incredible works of art by some immensely talented people. And since it’s @cap-ironman RecWeek, I figured this is as good of an excuse as any to make some posts recommending my favs (and try to keep self-recs to a minimum, but I’m only human).

I skipped Multiverse Monday since I’m still not well-versed enough in the multiverse to talk about it with any kind of recommendational authority, but today is Tropey Tuesday, and so I would like to share some fics from my all-time-favorite, major-reason-I-bother-with-the-MCU, gets-me-every-time trope:

Found Family

And so, without further ado, here are some Found Family Stony fics that I simply adore.

Avengers Family Ficlets

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 8,548

Summary: “You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.” A collection of short stories set in the extended Domestic Avengers Universe.

Why You Should Read It:

Thing number one that you should understand about me is that I would be perfectly happy with a story about body-less entities making funny quips at each other in  a featureless void, and anything else is just a bonus. Elwenyere’s stories consistently get the banter down so unbelievably, ridiculously well that when you find out they also have heart, creativity, well-developed characters, and so much damn feeling in them, it feels like an embarrassment of riches.

Go read all of their stuff, please, but this one’s a great place to start. It’s got everything you could possibly want in a fic: over-competitive pumpkin carving, emotional hospital confessions, Christmas decorations that come to life and attack people, crab dip, Steve Rogers accidentally ruining Thanksgiving through the sheer power of his own snark, and most importantly, a bunch of human disasters that somehow make a beautiful family together.

Executive Party

Author: copperbadge

Word Count: 3,228

Summary: Tony's terrible December is suddenly looking up.

Why You Should Read It:

Copperbadge is another author where you should read everything they’ve put out there. They’ve got this phenomenally creative mind that manages to consistently draw out deeply human stories that can kinda catch you off-guard in the places they find touching moments. You might’ve heard of their very popular Foodieverse, which is an incredibly creative AU with the Avengers in the food service industry, but this is the one I come to whenever I’m looking to indulge in my favorite trope.

Tony’s looking forward to spending the night before SI breaks for Christmas doing paperwork. Steve gets the Avengers to have an impromptu video game Christmas Party in his office instead. Cb’s also got a gift for banter (I have a type when it comes to writers, ok?), and the little details like Steve’s carnage record on GTA, Natasha’s Russian appreciation for country music, and Steve’s SHIELD break-up mixtape make it just a goddamn delight to read.

patchwork people

Author: itsAllAvengers

Word Count: 28,247

Summary: It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.It was far less well-known why, though.

CW: Past abuse and non-con (not by main pairing)

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re the kind of person who regularly thinks to themself “You know what Tony Stark needs? More trauma,” then this is the fic  for you.

Tony’s got some serious trust issues and PTSD thanks to some shitty, shitty exes. This is the story about how Tony learns to trust again, Avenger by Avenger, in his new Found Family. Come for the Whump, stay for the found family insomnia infomercial parties and Steve Rogers getting arrested for enacting some sweet, sweet karmic justice.

And now we get into a sub-genre of Found Family that is also a huge weakness of mine: Tony thinks he’s only tolerated instead of wanted, and his found family convinces him otherwise.

Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 22,187

Summary: Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound.  The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly it feels a bit like cheating to recommend the first work in scifigrl47′s tremendously popular Toasterverse, since I’m pretty sure a lot of people who don’t even like or regularly read fanfiction have liked this one, even indirectly. Sci is so ludicrously good at building an engaging, creative, character-driven universe that this series is responsible for most of the fanon you know and love about MCU fanfics. Tony’s bot Butterfingers? Sci made him up for this story. Thor’s love of Pop Tarts? Clint the vent goblin? All sci. They’re just that damn good at world-building.

In this fic, the Avengers try out a chore chart. Hilarity and feels ensue. I don’t want to say anymore and risk spoiling it because if you’ve managed to get far enough in Stony fanfiction to read this post and haven’t yet read the Toasterverse, I want to keep the experience pristine for you to enjoy. Please read this. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll reserve a hypothetical genie wish to make this series the actually canon MCU (God knows I have).

Hold the Things You Wanna Say

Author: SailorChibi

Word Count: 6,316

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay. He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really. What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always. This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

CW: Abuse, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

Why You Should Read It:

SailorChibi’s one of those authors I’ve been meaning to get around to reading all their stuff for, but it’s tricky when you have a short attention span and an author that is just so damn prolific. They’re a multi-fandom maven consistently putting out some really great stuff, and they’re absolutely worth checking out.

This story’s a real yank on the heartstrings, and as someone who can really identify with Tony’s fear of failing the people he cares about, the point in the story where he reaches his low is just unbelievably poignant. But the warmth and the wholesomeness of the end made my heart grow three sizes the day I read it. And the love that all these idiots have for each other is just so damn palpable in this story, it damn near made me cry.

Irreplaceable

Author: Orphan Account :(

Word Count: 4,952

Summary: There are obvious downsides to being the only member of the Avengers who is not a super soldier, a god, or a super assassin, and does not Hulk out when aggravated. The most obvious one is that when villains want bait, they've got a go-to guy. Tony already knew Mondays sucked. He did not need his opinion reinforced this way.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s such a bummer I can’t plunder this author’s other works because I love this one so much!

Tony gets kidnapped and says a lot of self-deprecating things that, unbeknownst to him, are projected on a live feed to the Avengers. They rescue him and have some opinions about how easily he could be replaced. This story’s got Tony hiding from feelings like an idiot, Steve manually carrying Tony somewhere the Avengers can say nice things about him, and a lot of feels.

That’s it for today! Tune in tomorrow for some AU recs!