#it's written on your face you are easy prank material

[fivekrystalpetals]

it'd be a real pain to have Break in the house coz he appears from under the bed-

leaves through a closet--

appears from under the table--

and so on.

at first, I thought that his chain has something to do with shadow travelling/teleporting (to put it in very simple terms) but turns out that it isn't his but Sharon's chain that has to do with shadows that makes this all the more funny

because it obviously means Sharon is fully in cahoots with his pranks and that under the mask of a well-bred, educated, highly cultured, tea-sipping elegant noble lady, Sharon is as chaotic as Break, or maybe even more

which is why this is happening:

plus

[schmucksbucks]

Bucky Has A Hard Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Viagra, Bucky's hard-on, smut! 18+, unprotected sex (use birth control!), teammates/friends to lovers, language.

Based off this prompt by @buckstaybucky:

Word Count: 1,456 (JEEPERS!!!)

Notes: this prompt was written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club and it's my absolute first time writing smut. Thank you to the ladies of the HBC for the guide and help! I'm not that confident but feedback is always appreciated! Hope you enjoy and have a lovely Thursday ❤️

Today should have been an easy day. Should have been, being the keywords. The mission in Siberia that Fury sent you and Bucky to do was completed a day earlier. Today meant you could have relaxed in your shared tent to keep warm until the quinjet arrived to pick you up tomorrow.

You were looking forward to reading a book in your thermal sleeping bag as the wind howled outside. It was a tent made for unrelenting weather conditions such as the Siberian winter. Only, you were having to deal with Bucky wriggling around in the sleeping bag. Something was seriously wrong. Bucky was puffing, murmuring, and sweating with his hand disappearing underneath the sleeping bag and into his boxers.

This morning was the first time he's remembered to take his protein pills. The mission was difficult, so it meant you barely had time to sleep. Bucky had never had a reaction like this to protein pills before, even before he left for the mission. An hour after he took his protein pills, he became rock hard and has already come inside his boxers from thrusting against the material. It wasn't enough, it was driving him insane.

"Fuck!" Bucky groaned once again, pulling your attention from your book. His palms were digging into his eye sockets and his hips thrusting up into nothing.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Uh– Buck? It might be pretty obvious that you're not, but are you okay?" You asked just to be sure.

"Fine." He gritted through his clenched teeth. His flesh hand flying under the sleeping bag. He needed a release, he needed something warm, wet, and tight, he needed you.

"O–kay. Well, if you need anything, I'm here." You blew out some air and licked your lips, the action alone driving Bucky crazy.

"Anything?" Bucky asked, resting on his elbow as he turned to face you. "If I need anything? Anything, anything? I need something."

"What do you need? Do you need a medic?" Putting your book down on your right, you mimicked his actions. The sight of your breasts pushed together, the swells peeping out from your tank top emitted a long groan and string of curses from Bucky.

Without answering your questions, Bucky scooted closer to you. He pushed his thigh between yours and traced your jaw with his lips. Bucky moved his leg higher until it was resting against your soaking clothed core. He could feel the dampness through your panties.

Bucky pulled away slightly, you were in the same trance as him. Hooded eyes with the air shifting around the two of you.

"I want you." He shivered despite the tent feeling hotter by the second. The strong wind continued to howl outside. You leaned up to kiss him and wrap one hand around his neck to pull him down on top of you, smirking against his lips when you felt how freaking hard he was.

Bucky stopped and leaned back on his hunches and you thought for a second he changed his mind. But his fingers grasped the sides of your panties and tugged them down your thighs. Your legs opened for him once they were off and he marveled at your glistening pussy.

"Fuck. Me." He huffed, shaking his head. He went to dip his head but you stopped him by closing your legs just a little. His fingers gripped the hem of your tank top and yanked it over your head. His breath hitched when you were braless the whole time.

"Another time. Come here." You told him and he swiftly pulled his own dirty boxers down his legs. The insides you saw were covered in his cum. You bit the inside of your cheek to bite back a moan that wanted to escape. You stared at his size. The serum did him a lot of favors, he was packed, the unmistakable vein on the underside was pulsing with need. Bucky positioned himself over you, his shaft slotted between your lips and his tip bumping against your clit. A shaky groan leaves your lips, your arms curl around his shoulders. Bucky buries his face into the crook of your neck, nibbling at your sensitive spot.

Bucky cries out when he pushes in. Your walls instantly flutter and contract around his cock, squeezing him tightly.

"Fuck doll, you feel so good!" He trembles, gently lowering his full weight on top of you and wrapping his flesh arm around the back of your neck and his metal arm grips the corner of the sleeping bag. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. Your bodies flushed together and it feels so right.

His thrusts start lightly. His tip grazing those sensitive spots deep inside of you. You feel amazing and he knows he's not gonna last.

"Harder Buck. Fuck me, baby." You moan, your arms clutching both of his shoulders for reassurance. Bucky clenches his jaw and soon enough, his pace picks up. His hip slapping against your own. The wind outside being the only witness to your intimacy with a man you've had feelings for since you became friends.

He repeatedly hits that deep spot, dots, and stars overtake your vision and you're panting. He fills you right to the brim, even reaching the cervix that makes you groan out in pain each time he meets it. His pelvic bone grazes against your clit every time he thrusts up into you.

"Buck–!" Sweat dribbles off his forehead onto yours as he fucks you hard. Your body jolting with each thrust. "You feel so good." Your mouth drops open and your pussy clenches. A bright white light flashes before your eyes for a second and your head is thrown back while you drench his cock. Bucky whines from the sudden slick coating him.

"Baby! Fuck, I'm gonna cum. I'm cumming!" Bucky removes his arm and sits back on his hunches still fully sheathed inside of you. His hair sticks to the side of his face and forehead. His sweat drips down his chest as his hands grip your waist for leverage. Pounding harder and faster. His groans and moans come more blatant as his hips begin to falter. His eyes fixated on your bouncing breasts, and one, two, three languid strokes later and a grunt of your name, his cum spurts over your fleshy fluttering walls. Bucky stays inside and leans over, panting while he presses his lips to yours. His sweat is salty against your lips and your own hair sticks to your forehead.

"Damn Barnes." You breathed with a smile. Completely spent out and your insides throbbing. "You're still hard." You pointed out with a grin.

You were right, he was still hard, he frowned. His erection should have gone as soon as he ejaculated. But he felt no different.

"I–I don't get it." Bucky stammered. But slowly realizing what might have happened. He remembered Sam discussing some pills and since Sam was well known for his ludicrous pranks, it should have been so obvious to Bucky since Sam was aware of Bucky's love for you. He doesn't know if he should thank Sam or punch him. "I don't know what to do." Bucky chortled nervously. Not really wanting to leave the comfort of your home any time soon.

"Round two?" You proposed and Bucky smirked. Rolling you both over so he was on his back and you were straddling his waist with him still inside. "We have all day." You reminded him.

"Wait doll, I gotta say something." Bucky stuttered tensely, his fingers tracing light patterns on your waist.

"Okay?" You urged him to continue, lighting bouncing on his cock as he spoke.

"I want you to know that this isn't just about sex to me. And I know this isn't a good time with me being buried in you but I want you to know I've had feelings for you for a while and I didn't want you to think I was just using you."

You smiled at his words, the words you've longed to hear. People told you he liked you, but you quickly brushed them off since you believed he had a specific type of woman.

"I know. I've liked you too for a while." Your hands rest on his hot wet chest, leaning yourself forward for a better angle. A cry slips out when he brushes your spot instantly. "I want you to be inside me forever." You groan, his hands sliding up your body to caress your breasts.

"I will doll, only if you be my girl?" Bucky has a hard time (no pun intended here) keeping himself under control.

"I'm your girl, Buck. I'm yours."

[engie-ivy]

I've written a part two for this fic! Read part one here.

What Chance Do I Have?

Regulus has agreed to tutor a classmate in statistics, but quickly comes to regret his life choices when the only chance the guy seems interested in, is the chance of getting to snog Regulus’ older brother.

“You want to snog my brother!” Regulus points his pen accusingly in Remus’ direction.

Remus huffs and straightens his back. “In my defence, your brother is very snogable!”

Part one: Crushin'

Part two: Fallin'

What Chance Do I Have? Part two: Fallin'

Dating Sirius Black is like a dream. No, a fantasy. A teenage fantasy of summer romance.

Dating Sirius Black is sneaking up to his room after Remus’ tutoring sessions and snog for hours on his bed. Dating Sirius Black is hurrying outside when his motorcycle pulls up, while Remus’ mum throws him a worrying look. Dating Sirius Black is Remus’ arms tightly wrapped around his waist while sitting on the back of his motorcycle. Dating Sirius Black is driving up a hill to watch the sunset and wearing his leather jacket when Remus gets cold. Dating Sirius Black is eating take-out pizza in the park late at night with him teaching Remus the constellations. Dating Sirius Black is skinny dipping in the lake at midnight. Dating Sirius Black feels like homecoming and an adventure, an obsession and an escape, too much and never enough.

Also, Remus’ statistics are actually going better. Regulus has given up on banning Sirius from their tutoring sessions. Sirius would just go outside to do all sorts of distracting activities in front of the window, like watering the plants in just his swimming trunks (“What the hell are you doing? We have a gardener! You haven’t watered a plant in your life!”), washing his motorcycle (“If you want to wash that thing, at least pour more water on your motorcycle than over yourself!), or doing his stretches (“What muscles are you even trying to stretch? You’re just standing there bend over. Get your arse away from the window!”). After Regulus sending Sirius away, Remus would go to the toilet and disappear for twenty minutes.

Regulus eventually allowed Sirius to stay, when Sirius came up with the idea of rewarding Remus for each good answer with a kiss, which remarkably improved his performance. Except for one instance where Remus had solved a particularly difficult problem and Sirius had gotten a bit carried away in his reward (the hoisting Remus up on the table throwing the statistics book on the floor-kind of carried away), and Regulus had muttered something about rinsing his eyes with bleach, it was a good arrangement for everyone.

Today, Remus is having drinks with a few girls from his class, Mary McDonald, Marlene McKinnon and Lily Evans. They had apparently taken a liking to him and decided to befriend him, which Remus still finds surprising. Lily Evans and her boyfriend James Potter are the school’s it-couple, and the most popular people in school.

Remus and the girls have gathered for brunch, and some much-needed catch up-time.

“How’ve you been, Remus?” Marlene asks, sipping her tea. “Hardly seen you since the summer hols started.”

“I’ve been good. Keeping myself busy.”

“Ah, right,” Lily says. “You’ve been having those tutoring sessions with Regulus. How’s that going?”

“Yes.” Mary not-so-subtly steaks a pancake from Marlene’s plate. “How are you bearing spending beautiful summer days in the stuffy Black manor?”

“It’s not that bad.” Remus does his very best to sound casual, but he can’t help the corners of his mouth curling slightly upwards thinking about some of the times spent in the Black manor.

“Oh oh,” Mary says, staring at him with a piercing gaze. “Look at his face.”

“Ah, yes,” Marlene says. “I see.”

“Maybe it’s just the heat?” Lily suggests weakly.

“No,” Mary says decidedly, shaking her head. “The combination of a blush like that and the dreamy look in his eyes can only have one explanation.” She points her fork accusingly in Remus’ direction, pancake pieces flying through the air. “You’ve met Sirius Black!”

Remus tries to look unaffected and calmly meets her gaze. “I may have seen him around.”

Marlene leans forward resting her head on her hand. “So he still looks like that, huh?”

“He does Marlene,” Remus replies, forgetting about seeming unaffected. “He really does, and I was very unprepared.”

Mary chuckles. “Some things there’s no preparing for.”

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like,” Lily interjects, looking at Remus pointedly. “You cannot start being friends with Sirius Black!”

Remus rolls his eyes. “I haven’t started being friends with Sirius Black.”

Lily lets out a relieved breath and takes a sip of her tea.

“I’vestarteddatingSiriusBlack,” Remus murmurs in one breath.

Lily spits out her tea, Marlene drops her fork with a clatter, and Mary actually shrieks.

“What?” Lily coughs, dapping her chin with her napkin.

“You… are dating… Sirius Black?” Marlene asks, stunned.

Mary just stares at Remus with something like awe.

Remus shrugs. “We kind of clicked.”

“Dating Sirius Black,” Mary whispers. “Many have tried, and many have failed.”

“Including you,” Marlene says to Mary.

Mary sighs wistfully. “I should’ve taken tutoring sessions with Regulus.”

Marlene whacks her over the head. “I’m pretty sure Sirius Black’s type is cute, freckled guys with big eyes and floppy hair. Not whoever his little brother happens to be tutoring at the time.”

“You shouldn’t be dating Sirius Black!” Lily points her finger accusingly in Remus’ direction. “That guy cannot be trusted! He’s bad news, Remus.”

Remus arches an eyebrow. “He has been nothing but respectful towards me, and has never given me a reason not to trust him.”

“Well, maybe you don’t actually know him that well,” Lily retorts.

“I’ll find that out for myself then, won’t I?” Irritation seeps through in Remus’ voice. “I’m very much capable of making my own decisions.”

“You are,” Lily replies. “If you were making those decisions with your brain and not some other body part.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Lily, Remus,” Marlene says hesitantly. “I think you can’t see that Sirius Black is no good for you.”

“Yeah,” even Mary chimes in. “While I know it’s easy to get distracted by that hair, and those eyes, and that smile, and those shoulders, and that arse- wait, what was I saying again?”

Marlene whacks Mary over her head.

“Look, I’m not just dating him because he’s a walking definition of physical perfection,” Remus says. “He’s so clever, and he’s always doing nice things for me, he actually listens to what I say, and he always makes me laugh…”

“Oh god.” Lily is staring at him with a horrified expression on her face. “You’re falling in love with him!”

Remus can feel his cheeks reddening, but he refuses to look away and stares back defiantly. “If I was, I’d be none of your business.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Remus!”

“I appreciate your concern,” Remus says cooly. “But that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Fine,” Lily scoffs. “If he does break your heart and you need a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me. And whatever you do, do not mention him in front of-”

“Hi, Lilyflower!”

“James!” Lily shrieks, whirling around in her chair and her voice sounding three octaves higher than usual. “Hello. Hi. How do you do? Fancy seeing you here.”

James gives her a funny look. “You mean where we agreed I’d meet you to give you back your car keys? Thanks again for letting me borrow your car, by the way.”

“Oh, right. Silly me,” Lily says with a very unnatural chuckle, as James places the keys in her hand.

James glances around the table suspiciously. “What were you talking about?”

“School,” Lily says, at the same time Marlene says “the weather”, and Mary says “cows”.

James looks at Remus, but he looks just as confused as James is.

“Alright then…” James says. “Well, sorry for interrupting your school-wheather-cow discussion.” He bends to give Lily a kiss on her cheek. “See you tonight, babe.”

“Yes, toodles!” Lily says, and James gives her an amused look before walking away.

Lily slumps in her chair.

“I think that went pretty well,” Mary says.

Marlene whacks her over the head. “Cows?”

“I panicked!”

Remus arches an eyebrow and leans forward in his chair towards Lily. “Care to tell me why I can’t mention Sirius to James?”

Lily sighs. “Back when Sirius Black was still in our class, he and James were best friends.”

“More than best friends,” Marlene adds. “Like brothers. Platonic soulmates.”

“You never saw one without the other,” Mary chimes in. “They were on the football team together, sat next to each other in class, were always pranking the teachers together.”

Marlene snickers. “The teachers always said ‘PotterandBlack’ in one breath.”

“Well, yeah,” Lily says. “But then Black started skipping grades, and I don’t know, he must’ve thought he was too good for James suddenly. He just stopped hanging out with him, quitted the football team and didn’t speak to James anymore.”

“That’s rough,” Remus frowns. “Without giving any explanation?”

Mary nods sadly. “It was a though time for James.”

“It really threw him off,” Lily agrees. “It was hard to see.”

“I thought you said you hated James back then?” Remus asks.

“Nah, she didn’t,” Mary replies.

Marlene smirks. “Unless it was in a ‘I hate James Potter and his stupid face, with his stupidly sexy hair and that stupidly cute grin, and those horribly pretty eyes and outrageously broad shoulders’.”

“Anyway,” Lily says pointedly, her cheeks flushed. “The point is that you deserve better, Remus. Someone who treats people as if they’re disposable is obviously no boyfriend-material.”

Remus thinks about it for a moment. “Alright,” he eventually says. “I’ll admit that I see where you’re coming from, but still. I have to make my own judgment from my own experience with Sirius.”

“I respect that,” Lily replies, only a tad reluctantly. “All I ask is for you to be on your guard.”

Remus walks home with Marlene, who’s going in the same direction.

“How are you going to handle it, though?” Marlene asks. “I mean, it must be stuck in your head, the question what Sirius Black’s deal was with that whole thing with James?”

“It is,” Remus replies. “But I’ve come up with an ingenious plan to find out.”

“Which is?” Marlene asks.

“Out-of-the-box as it may be,” Remus says. “I’ll go up to Sirius and ask him ‘what was your deal with that whole thing with James?’.”

Marlene grins. “I can see Sirius Black didn’t just like you for your pretty face!”

“Oh Marls,” Remus throws an arm around her shoulders. “You forget that he met me while I was doing statistics.”

Marlene throws her head back and laughs. “I take it back! It was definitely your pretty face!”

Remus decides to go and see Sirius that very evening. They didn’t make any plans, but Remus figures he can always check if he’s home. He walks up to the Black manor and knocks. After a few moments, an anxious looking Regulus opens the door, only slightly.

“What are you doing here?” Regulus hisses, the moment he recognizes Remus.

Remus is about to answer, when a woman’s shrill voice sounds from the living room.

“You ungrateful brat! After everything we’ve done for you, you’ll choose to shame us?”

Remus blinks, and Regulus looks over his shoulder and then back to Remus.

“This is not a good time,” he tells Remus. “You should leave, quickly!”

A man’s heavy voice now comes through. “You’re embarrassing yourself. And worse, you’re embarrassing your family. I’m starting to doubt whether you’re even worthy of being our son.”

Suddenly, Sirius bursts out the living room, pushes the front door further open, and stalks out into the street. He’s walking fast, jaw tight, and eyes fixed on the floor. He doesn’t even register that he walked right past Remus.

Regulus makes a move as if to follow him, but then the woman’s voice sounds again. “Regulus! Regulus Black, where are you? You get over here immediately. I will not have you talk to your brother!”

Regulus looks terribly conflicted between hurrying after Sirius and making sure his parents don’t freak out more.

“I can go after him,” Remus offers in a quiet whisper. “Then you can deal with your parents.”

Regulus nods gratefully, before disappearing back into the house.

Remus finds Sirius sitting on some steps not far from the house, his head in his hands. He looks up at Remus’ approaching footsteps and startles.

“What… what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. I was at the door.”

Sirius shakes his head. “I didn’t even see…”

Remus smiles. “I noticed.”

“Did you hear…?”

“Only some bits.” Remus sits down one step above Sirius and threads his fingers through his hair. “Wanna talk about it?”

Sirius shrugs. “I told my parents I was thinking about becoming a veterinarian instead of a doctor. I thought they’d might be okay with it, as it’s still a medical profession, not too much of a deviation from their plan, but apparently veterinarian is ‘an inferior profession much below their status’ and I am ‘selfish, stubborn and ungrateful to even consider it’.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus says softly.

Sirius sighs. “Yeah. I’m just sick of it, you know? Sick of trying to live up to their expectations instead of my own.”

“Is that also why you stopped being friends with James?” Remus asks hesitantly.

“I ruined my friendship with James for the same reason I’ve ruined each good thing I’ve had in my life,” Sirius replies bitterly. “My bloody parents.”

Remus stays silent, and after a moment, Sirius continues.

“They said I couldn’t become a doctor if I kept wasting my time on playing football and acting childish with immature people. Being a dumb fifteen-year-old, I believed them, and considering the option of not becoming a doctor never even occurred to me. It was the plan they had set out for me since the day I was born, it was a given.” Sirius turns his head to look at Remus. “Did James tell you?”

Remus shakes his head. “I heard from others.”

“Right,” Sirius looks away again, but Remus can still see the pained expression in his eyes. “I knew that. Regulus already told me James never even mentions me anymore.”

“Well, you’ve never given him a reason,” Remus says. “James is a good person-”

“He’s the best,” Sirius immediately says.

“Right. If you had just explained the situation to him?”

“I know,” Sirius sighs. “But James was like… the height of cool, and I had somehow managed to convince everyone I was the same. I just couldn’t bear the embarrassment of telling him it was because my mommy said no, so I took the cowardice approach. I just stopped talking to him. I regretted it soon after, but by then I was convinced he already hated me, and it seemed futile to make him hate me again for a different reason.” Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “Now I regret ending the friendship in the first place. Hanging out, playing football, pulling pranks… Life was fun back then, you know?” Sirius looks down at the stone pavement. “Life hasn’t been fun in a while.”

“It’s supposed to be!” Remus says. “Especially at our age. Life’s supposed to be fun.”

“I mean, life was fun these past weeks with you, but those years in between…” Sirius shrugs.

Remus moves down a step and takes Sirius’ hand in his. “Look at me, Sirius. You deserve to play football and pull pranks, to become a veterinarian and live life according to your own expectations, and you deserve to have fun!”

Sirius just stares at him, his eyes seeming glassy.

Remus, suddenly feeling awkward, drops Sirius’ hand. “So, I don’t expect I’ll be meeting the parents any time soon?” Remus meant it as a joke to lighten the mood, especially since he and Sirius aren’t even officially together, but Sirius looks at him intently.

“If you want me to tell them about you, I will.”

“What?” Remus asks, bewildered. “They’ll kill you!”

Sirius shrugs. “Most likely.” And Remus hates the casual certainty in which he says it, and he hates even more that he’s not sure if Sirius means it in a manner of speaking.

“But I want you to know I’m not ashamed of you.”

“I appreciate it, really,” Remus says. “But I don’t want you doing anything stupid for my sake!”

“But Remus,” Sirius says. “Isn’t that the foundation of our relationship? Me doing stupid things for your sake?”

Remus chuckles. “Perhaps, but this is not something that needs doing for my sake! I don’t mind. Well, I mind for as much as that I whish you had decent parents whose heads aren’t so far up their arses, but I don’t mind for my sake.” Remus smirks. “I think it’s kind of hot, actually. Our romance being-” He lowers his voice to a husky whisper. “forbidden.”

Sirius snorts. “You’re insane.” But he’s smiling again, so Remus considers it an absolute win.

“I mean it! We’re like Romeo and Julliet!”

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “You do know their romance lasted five days and six people died?”

Remus shrugs. “We can break that record.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows even further.

“Oh, god, for the number of days! Not the number of deaths! I don’t want anyone to die for our romance! Although, if some tragedy were to befall your parents…”

“Remus!”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

Sirius shakes his head, but Remus likes to think it is the fond sort of headshake. His suspicion is confirmed when Sirius cups his face between his hands and strokes Remus’ cheeks with his thumbs.

“You’re insane, Remus Lupin,” he says softly. “And I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Part one

[sugarsugarmoon]

Ice Cream (m)

**Summary: **You just wanted to eat your ice cream bar, but when Jungkook storms out of the room, you get a surprise you weren’t expecting.

**Genre: **Smut

**Warnings: **Masturbation, unprotected sex (please use protection IRL), honestly it’s pretty vanilla, flustered JK is best JK

**Word Count: **2664

**A/N: **Jeon Jungkook got me feeling some type of way after that fan meeting, you know? Anyway, this is probably the most vanilla one shot I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it!

** **

You sit on one of the barstools in your kitchen, unwrapping an ice cream bar that you had just pulled out of the fridge. Your roommate, Jungkook, is sitting on the couch, hood pulled over his head, playing on his phone.

You had lived with Jungkook for about 6 months, and it had been a good situation for both of you. You had caught your ex-boyfriend cheating and needed a place to move ASAP, and Jungkook had made a flyer and posted it on a bulletin board in the student center because his old roommate had graduated the previous year and moved to the city for a job. He couldn’t afford to live alone, so, when you came along, he said yes right away.

He had come out of his room and saw you standing in front of the washer. You were wearing his shirt and a pair of cheeky lace underwear. You figured since you were doing laundry anyway, you could just wash the shirt with the second load and give it back to him. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, and, when you turned to look at him, he face was red and distorted in a weird way that you couldn’t read.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked in a tone you’d never heard from him before.

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t ask I was gonna wash it in the next load…” you say hesitantly.

“No. Take it off,” he says lowering his eyes and shaking his head.

“Okay, jeez, I’m sorry,” you start to pull the shirt over your head, exposing your tummy and the bottom swell of your breasts.

“Not here! God! Are you not wearing a bra? Oh my god. Just...go to your room and take it off,” he practically shouts.

He turns on a dime and disappears into his room. You stand there bewildered for a moment, then you go in your room, take off his shirt, and throw on one of your own. You walk over to his door and gently place the shirt on the handle. You can hear JK moving around inside his room, but you decide it’s best to leave him alone. 

You never talked about it after that, but, after a couple of weeks, things went back to normal between the two of you. Two really long uncomfortable weeks. You were playful and sarcastic, and Jungkook loved pranks and could take it as well as he dished it out. The two of you spent a lot of your time together laughing and making fun of each other.

Today, you are in a bad mood, having seen a post from your ex with his new girlfriend online. She’s cute and he looks happy and you’re burning up inside. You decide that ice cream is the answer to your problems right now. The ice cream bar was one of those with the hard chocolate coating and inside was vanilla ice cream with chocolate and peanut butter swirls, aka the best sad food of all time.

You pop the bar into your mouth and crunch down on the chocolate coating. It is sweet and rich, and your mouth is filled with vanilla and chocolate and peanut butter flavors. It’s so good. You can’t help it; you don’t even realize it, but you let out a deep moan as you finish your first bite. 

Jungkook’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide. “Did...did you just moan?”

Your cheeks immediately flush, and you avert your eyes from his gaze. “It’s really good, okay?”

“Apparently,” he says with a slight chuckle.

You bring your attention back to your ice cream which has started melting down your hand. With an _oh shit _to yourself, you quickly lick the melting ice cream off the bar and take to cleaning off your hand with your tongue. You hear what almost sounds like a whimper from the living room, and, when you look over, Jungkook is staring at you with the same look he gave you when you stole his shirt. You finish licking the finger you’re on and then stop.

“What?” you ask as you pop your pinky out of your mouth.

“Nothing,” he grumbles and stalks off to his room.

You let him go because you’re not sure what to say. You finish your ice cream and decide that you can’t let the weirdness between you and Jungkook stand. The last time it was weird like this and he looked at you like that, you didn’t talk for weeks, and you didn’t want to have to endure that again.

You march over to his bedroom door and fling it open. The sight that meets you leaves you instantly speechless.

Jungkook is in his desk chair, sweatpants low on his hips, hoodie tossed aside. He has his cock in his right hand, and he’s gripping down hard on the arm rest with his left. He’s panting, and it’s clear that his eyes were closed, head thrown back just moments before you entered. You feel heat immediately radiating in your face, your belly, and your core.

His eyes snapped open when you opened the door, and he stopped the movement of his hand. Freezing for a second, then scrambling to put himself back in his pants. 

You stand there with your mouth open, eyes wide, suddenly very aware of how your panties feel against you.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the fuck?! Do you not know how to knock?!” Jungkook exclaims.

You feel yourself rub your thighs together, creating friction that doesn’t relieve the tension in your belly, and you see Jungkook’s eyes follow the line of your legs, watching you do it. You are still frozen in place, speechless. 

You can’t deny that you had pictured this before. Jungkook was undeniably hot. He is fit and good looking and sexy and cool and every other positive adjective. You told yourself you couldn’t go there because he’s your roommate and, when you moved in, you had just gotten out of a bad relationship. But you were still a hot blooded woman with eyes. Sometimes at night, lying in bed with your fingers in your panties, you’d picture what JK might look like on the other side of the wall, cock in hand. You’d used that mental imagine to cum more times than you care to admit.

And now, here it was, in front of you. And you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t move. Jungkook is standing now, a deep flush on his cheeks and ears.

“Can you please leave or say something or do anything? This is maybe the worst moment of my life,” Jungkook says, panic and shame in his expression.

“I…” why won’t your words come out? How hard is oops, sorry, let’s pretend this never happened. See you later, buddy? Except you don’t want to pretend it never happened.

When your feet finally decide to move, they take several steps toward the flustered man in front of you. Your chest is flush with his now, and you’re staring up into his eyes. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his breath is short and rapid.

You really don’t know what possesses you to do it; you feel like you’ve completely lost control. You stand up on your tiptoes and brush your lips over his. A whisper of a kiss. 

“Y-y/n?” he asks with wide eyes.

Your hand finds its way from your side up his solid bicep and across his collar bone. You look at it, surprised. Your whole body seems to be moving without consulting your brain first. 

“What happened just now?” you finally managed to ask. “The last time you looked at me like that and came in your room, we didn’t talk for weeks after.”

Even though you’re controlling your words, your hand is causing your nails to dance circles on Jungkook’s chest, just below the collar of his shirt without any forethought.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now? As if you don’t know? As if you aren’t torturing me on purpose?”

You pout a little bit, looking up at him. You honestly don’t know what he means, but he clearly thinks you're doing something on purpose.

At the puzzled look on your face, he continues, “with the moaning? And the licking your fingers? Not to mention it’s a white creamy substance you’re licking off of them? Seriously? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh...no…JK, you have to believe me I didn’t do any of that on purpose to tease you. I was just eating really good, melty ice cream…”

“And I’m just supposed to believe that? Like when you just happened to be wearing my shirt with those sexy little lace panties. I guess that wasn’t to tease me either, right?”

“Yeah. You are right. I was doing my laundry. JK, I’m never actively trying to tease you...” you say.

You can’t believe that he thought that you were teasing him, and you try to think back to every interaction you’ve had. You are always just friendly and maybe a little too comfortable with him. He makes it easy to just be yourself. If you were telling the truth to yourself, which you rarely did, Jungkook was the kind of boyfriend material you wish you had.

“Right. Sure. So right now, your hand is in my shirt because you just need to check my heart rate?”

You look down, and, once again, that unruly hand astounds you. You’ve dipped your hand into the collar of Jungkook’s shirt, ghosting your hand over his collarbones and his sternum.

“See, now...I know it doesn’t help my argument, but I also didn’t do this on purpose,” you explain as you pull your hand back to your side. “It seems like both of our hands are doing a little exploring today.”

You give him a smirk and a wink, and his cheeks flush again.

“Well, if you’d like to continue your exploring, I’m always down for an adventure,” he responds, bringing his hand to your waist.

“Woooow. Jeon Jungkook, that was cheesy,” you giggle out as you slide your fingers across his scalp and tangle them in his hair.

“And yet, here you are. Falling for my irresistible charm. No woman can resist it.” He runs one hand up and down your arm, from your fingertips to your shoulder.

“Oh? Is that why you were in here alone with your hand just a minute ago?” you ask as you continue to giggle, bringing one hand out of his hair to rest on the back of his neck.

“As much as I would love to continue this banter, I’m so hard. Can we take care of it, and then you can go back to making fun of me for how lonely I am and how often I think about you when I jerk off?”

“I guess,” you whisper as you lean in to finally kiss him how you want. It’s hard and sloppy and filled with lust and frustration. You still have the slight taste of peanut butter and chocolate on your lips, but it mixes with the taste of Jungkook’s mouth. You melt into him, like the ice cream down your hand.

He picks you up and carries you over the bed. He sits on the edge and places you in his lap, straddling him. He grabs the hem of your shirt and slowly slides it and his fingers up the skin covering your ribs.

When he pulls the shirt over your head, he says, “do you never wear a bra or what?”

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, gently sucking and rolling his tongue around it. He has your other breast in his hand, lightly massaging it and flicking the nipple softly as he passes over it.

“When I’m at home? No. I’m not trying to impress anyone,” you say just as a whimper escapes your mouth. You grind down on JK, and you can feel his hard cock under you. 

He smirks, “well, I prefer this way.” He puts his mouth on your neck and collar bone, kissing and sucking gently enough not to leave any marks.

He slips his hand into the waistband of your sweatpants and panties and runs his fingers across your folds. He whines a little at the back of his throat, and you pull away to look at him.

“You’re so wet. I want to make you cum before I fuck you, but I just...I’ve been hard so long…” he breathes out.

“It’s okay. You’ll just eat me out later, yeah?”

He coughs a little bit, taken aback, but then he looks at you with his dark, lust-filled eyes. “I’ll lick your pussy until you beg me to stop because it’s so good.”

You both pause for a second, and then you burst out laughing. He looks a little hurt.

“Oh my god, Jeon, stop being so cheesy,” you say through giggles. He pushes your shoulder gently. “Hey, I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. Do you want to use a condom still?” you say as you climb out of his lap. He looks at you with the same wide eyed expression he’s been giving you all afternoon and shakes his head vigorously. You pull down your pants and underwear, and he pulls his sweatpants down his thighs.

You wrap your fingers around his cock and pump it a few times while you stand over him, then you straddle him again. You take him and line him up with your entrance. Your eyes meet his before you sink down onto him. A sharp intake of air and a soft mewl spill over your lips.

You slowly start to grind up and down on Jungkook’s length, sucking on his neck and collarbone while you do. You run your hands through his hair again and yank it a little as you feel yourself clench around him.

“Oh shit y/n,” Jungkook growls into your skin. His hips start to buck up underneath you, and he’s fucking you harder and faster now. He wraps his hands around your shoulders, holding you into place while he fucks up into you.

“Where should I cum?” he asks through ragged breaths.

“Inside,” you manage to breathe out.

“Shit,” he whispers as his thrusts lose the same rhythm they had, becoming desperate.

He exhales the breath he’s been holding and spills inside of you. He thrusts through his orgasm, painting your walls. He rests his head on your shoulder, panting.

You’re the one to break the silence. “So exactly how often do you jerk off to me?” you ask as you slide off his lap and into his en suite bathroom. When you walk back into the room after cleaning yourself, he’s looking at you in amused disbelief.

“I mean, a lot. But certainly a lot more often now.” He flops back on to his bed and beckons you over with his hand. “We should probably talk about this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “but, first, I believe you promised to ‘lick my pussy until I begged you to stop because it’s too good,’ and I really can’t reschedule that.”

He yanks you done on top of him, both of you laughing.

“If you keep making fun of me, I won’t do it,” he says. When you pout in response, he grabs your face and says, “fine. Give me 10 minutes to recharge.”

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[cherry-thegenz]

MCYT prompts

list of my personal prompts so far : ) (some i’ve written for, will make a list of all the mcyt fics ive made maybe), will put written under ones i’ve written lol

Insane Skeppy (TW: torture)

 “Skeppy tortures Bad because he just needs someone to torture and I can't find the word for that

Anyways it'll be a longer oneshot so I hope someone does it”

written

Dolphin King (Karlnap)   Karl needs a dolphin to quickly make it through the ocean. But first, he needs to ask the Dolphin King to borrow one.

written

Drunken Pranks

 Sapnap, ever the insane idiot, decided it’d be a good idea to prank Dream. George, also an idiot, decided it’d be good to join him. Thus starting a prank war between all of them. (make them get drunk)

Nobody hurts Gogy (GeorgeNap | platonic or romantic)

somebody hurts gogy. sapnap gets very protective Fluff ;D [based off when sapnap said ‘nobody hurts gogy’ hahahahahahaha]

Don’t Mess W Niki 

basically bamf niki these are the notes i wrote  frick im supposed to sleep but was suddenly struck w this idea from animatic aka where wilbur n tommys citizenship is yeeted?? and its all angst and i love it butimagine that but while they're gone niki just gets so mad at schlatt and just like goes full on badass mode gets full netherite armor and stuff for like tommy n wilbur spends hours getting materials for themand when they come back she's handing them tools and weapons and she's got techno on her side and she's just ready to throw hands with schlatt, has tnt prepared, etc, shes just super prepared to murder schlatt and we get to see her sniping people with a bow

written

Atlantic Empire

techno is king of a weird kingdom. He’s known as the blood god, so good at pvp even the Dream SMP kingdom can’t touch him.

His kingdom is just so weird though.

He’s had at least three wars that had no violence at all- literally just about which kingdom could get more potatoes farmed

His subjects all bully him, hes fine with it, and they’re actually all adore him anyways. 

All of his citizens are strangely sarcastic (him even more so)

He’s allies with pogtopia, hates manburg

Neutral with the dream smp

“blood for the blood god” 

“Subscribe to technoblade”

“Technoblade never dies”

Its a small kingdom but most of the residents are so good at pvp or speed building or even bedwars/skywars in general that they’re all really powerful

His kingdom is normally p quiet actually

When it snows, it snows

Also ngl, all of their kingdom are BULLIES

Also they’re super competitive but have no hard feelings

Much anxiety (a lot of them chill in their homes or w one friend group but they all know each other)

Winner of antarctic empire bedwars championship go against technoblade and theyre just like “wow i win and all i have to do is speedbridge faster than a pig easy win, i’ll be the new ruler”

Its actually a really good match and in the end the winner gets to be Head Knight or sum, techno wins tho

written

  Scars (any ship, platonic/romantic)

“what? Shocked by my scars?”

“Kinda.”

“What are you gonna say? They’re a sign of how I survived? Because I know that, I wish I never did-“

“I haven’t even said anything, and you’re already making assumptions.”

“What?”

“I think they make you look imperfect. They make you look like you actually faced hardships. Like your life wasn’t perfect. It’s comforting, in a way.”

“..oh.”

Don’t Hurt The Children [Gods AU]

Don’t Hurt The Children

Prompt: essentially, there are gods on the smp.

Dream - demigod (of war)

George - mortal

Sapnap - demigod (of fire)

Niki - goddess (of friendship and revenge)

Eret - god (of betrayal and loyalty, because they lie hand in hand)

Techno - demigod (of victory & blood - his godly mother is actually p calm n knows when to use these so) 

Phil - god (of family and wisdom)

Wilbur - demigod (of violence)

Tommy - demigod /doesnt know it/ (of music, camaraderie - music discs lol -)

Tubbo - demigod (of nature)

Fundy- hybrid fox

eret is a God who lives in the Dream SMP, dream is a demigod of course, Techno also demigod, Phil + Niki other gods

wilbur goes Insane, hurts tommy - and eret, phil, and niki all decide hes d e a d

Respawn AU

respawn au but ppl get to choose when to perma-die or if they want to leave the server, they get as much time to choose as wanted

Wilbur traps tommy ? in a room w just a bed, wilbur goes to explode l’manburg but techno exposes him (jschlatt is good in this one), n wilbur is caught

Tommy dies from starvation in the game just as wilbur is caught and they all panic They have no clue where tommy is but wilbur (who is bad but not that bad that he’d let tommy die over n over from starving) shows them where he is and his bed spawnpoint

But tommy isnt there and they panic because

It shows when somebody dies

Doesnt show when they permadeath

Does show when they Leave the Game

So they all panic but actually tommy’s just in the respawn menu, tired of everything and disassociating. He snaps out of it because of techno :)

written

Coconut 2020 Win AU

what if fundy and niki initially won the election and became presidents..

me imagining reactions

fundy n niki: celebrating, happy etc

jschlatt (bc i love making him a good guy): sighs, shakes their hands tho and says congrats etc

wilbur on the other hand: betrayed, accusing, trying to take tommy and leave - tommy refuses 

Citizenship to Run 

Jschlatt wins but then Wilbur laughs and is like “lol thought u were joking bc only citizens of L’manburg can run, and ur only a guest” and that’s basically what happens

if you want to use one of these prompts, go ahead!! if it says written under it, that means i’ve written it on my ao3 Cherry_TheGenZ and it’d be cool if you could just mention me <3 

i will also be writing this so just mention my tumblr !! give me CLOUT 

[lamesiscanon]

lily + james if there wasn’t a war? (if you like

YES. Seren I’d literally do anything for you ((Though I am a fool, I thought I posted this a week ago and logged into my computer today to find it waiting so please forgive the tardiness))

     At the beginning of the summer holidays, Petunia had reluctantly approached Lily with the invitation to spend the rest of the warmest months with Vernon and their parents on a trip to Spain with Vernon’s family. It was some dumb plan of Petunia’s to get the families closer together, before the wedding next year that would most likely result in some bullshit conversations that would be too safe and not at all interesting. Or worse, she knew she’d have to keep up some lie about her “private boarding school for troubled youth”. And so no matter the amount of begging her parents had resorted themselves to, to get her to come along, Lily’s response was an easy Hell No. 

Consequently, her parents were never going to let her stay home alone for two and a half months, so she was arranged to stay with the Lupins. It was the best thing to ever happen to her, until James Potter found out. 

The mind of James Potter was able to come up with many excuses as to why he was constantly visiting the Lupin cottage, and increasingly become more and more ridiculous. 

“Remus! I need that book you promised to let me borrow.” 

“Remus, I am here to plan a prank against Peter. He sent me explosive confetti in the mail.” 

“Remus, I need the stitching repair charm. Padfoot chewed up all of mum’s pillows.”

“Remus, I need your help with this job application, I’m having a hard time understanding what they’re asking for here.”

“Remus, I need you to help me shop for an outfit to Alice’s wedding.”

Each time James popped in through the floo, or crash landed in Hope’s tomatoes, Remus invited him to stay and go to town with them, or hang by the pond. Lily tried her best to not act annoyed. 

It was obvious James was coming just to see her, no matter how brief. And it was obvious how he was much less subtle about his liking her, after finding her notebook in potions at the end of term and seeing that her last page included his name along with various attributes she and her friends “liked” about him. Yes, it was childish. Yes, it was the most embarrassing moment of her life when he returned her notebook. 

Lily only had her Head Girl badge to blame, since it matched along with James’ Head Boy one and they had been forced to spend more time together during their last year at Hogwarts. It made her notice that he wasn’t just some immature boy. He was a kind, cute, and talented young man, and Merlin, Lily hated to admit it. 

Now, however, as she read her book and listened to the storm, Lily had to strongly disagree with Mary and how she wrote “fashionable” when asked to describe James Potter. Her opinions were backed up by the bag of pink shirts he had slung over his arm as he walked in through the front door. The bag of horrid pink most likely had to do with his daily excuse to see Lily.

“Remus! I found some of your things in my trunk!” 

Lily set down in her book, and looked at James with mild annoyance. 

“Do you ever knock?” 

“I don’t need to. Hope and Lyall have made it known their house is open to all.” Though, his clothes were soaking from flying, and he dripped water all over the cottage.

“Well, I can’t believe graduation was three weeks ago and you waited until now to unpack your trunk.” Lily cringed on the inside, knowing at this point she was trying too hard to be annoyed and disinterested. 

“I didn’t wait three weeks, I unpacked two weeks ago but just now remembered to return these. I just barely gave Sirius his Robert Plant posters back.” James said, taking off his shoes and flying gloves, before carrying his bag onto the lounge chair across from Lily.

“Robert Plant? Are these posters for Sirius’ hair aspiration, or fantasy boyfriend material?” 

“It’s most likely an equal mix of both.”

Remus came into the room then, asking about the stuff he left in James’ trunk, until he saw the bag of pink.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Your Madam Pudifoot’s merchandise!” James pulled out a shirt with the words “Love is the way” printed on the back. 

“I don’t own any merch. This is all your-”

“Now, Remus, there’s no need to be embarrassed about your interests.” James looked at him pointedly, and Remus sighed in defeat. 

“The things I do for you.” Remus muttered, as he shook his head. James mouthed a ‘thank you’ in return, before turning back to the bag.

“AHA! And here’s your hat!” James draped the shirt over Remus’ shoulder and put the pink bucket hat on his head. Remus looked close to punching him. 

Lily couldn’t help but laugh loudly, and the look Remus gave her only made her laugh harder. Poor Remus, he needed to be put out of his misery. 

Lily got up from her spot on the couch and walked over the bag herself. Inside, she found many fabrics of pink and purple, and even some with feathers. The first thing she pulled out was a shirt with a much brighter, atrocious shade of pink than the last, with hearts and the Madam Puddifoot logo.

“No, I think Remus is right. I was working the day James bought this. Though, I never would have thought he’d be buying it for himself.” Lily turned to face the two boys, grinning wildly and holding the shirt up against her. “Besides, Remus’ merch of choice is Celestina Warbeck pajamas.” 

If Lily had a camera, she’d take a picture of both their blushes and keep it in her room forever. There was no greater feeling, Lily decided, than the feeling of knowing she caught James in his act. 

“Yet, I have to admit. This is an excellent choice of pink, Potter. I can see it really clashes with the hair.” She held the shirt out in front of him, faux contemplation all over her face. She was really enjoying this. 

“Oh, do you mean the hair that ‘looks so soft you could run your fingers through it’? Or did you write the part about how good it looks during quidditch?” 

Now it was Lily’s turn to blush, knowing he was referring to the things written in Lily’s notebook. Seeing how the tables had turned, James was back to all confidence and esteem, as if he hadn’t just been exposed and embarrassed.

“Your clearly imagining things, the only thing I wrote about you was how difficult it must be for you to get through doorways with that incredibly big head of yours!” Lily was a great liar, but she knew already. She knew James read everything on that page. 

“Oh, that’s right! Now I remember! Just below that bit was the part about how hot the ‘post-sex’ nature of my hair is.” James stepped closer to her, pink t-shirts and Remus forgotten. “In your same handwriting.”

“The only reason my handwriting is so recognizable to you is because you spent weeks in third year copying it and writing love letters to yourself, pretending they were from me.”

James’ grin fell, and he took a step back before turning an accusing glare at Remus. 

“I wonder how you found out about that.” 

Remus did his best to shrug innocently, barely controlling his laughter as he made his escape out of the room and up the stairs. They listened together as the muffled guffaws of laughter leaked through the ceiling’s boards.

“Well,” James began, trying to break the silence “I think my head just got deflated quite a bit.” His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, and he avoided eye contact by staring at his shoes.

“It’s a good thing to have your ego taken back down every now and then.” Lily agreed. 

“Although it sucks to happen,” James admitted “I guess we’ve both done some... very embarrassing things in the past.”

They could still hear Remus laughing upstairs.

“I think...” Lily drifted off, swallowing hard and begging herself to gather up the courage. “I think a deflated head is all it would take for me to say ‘yes’ to a date with you. You know, if you’d ever ask.” 

James snapped his head up, and it made Lily wish he hadn’t. His eyes were too intense, and she blushed remembering she wrote something about how she could stare at them all day. She wanted to drown knowing James also read this.

“You r- you wha- Really?”

Lily shrugged, still holding the pink shirt as she turned to sit back down on the couch. 

“Well then, please excuse me for a minute.” 

Lily’s brows furrowed in confusion as James rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. After a couple minutes of drawers opening and closing, she heard his footsteps on the stairs, then heard James talking to Remus, and finally, his footsteps came back down the stairs and he was in the room again. Though, this time he had flowers in one hand, and chocolate in the other. The flowers were dripping water on the floor, like his clothes had earlier and it made Lily laugh. 

“Did you seriously take those out of Mrs. Lupin’s vase? And did you take Remus’ chocolate?” She was laughing again, clutching her stomach as James stood in front of her, confident and embarrassed at the same time. 

“I’ll put these back! And Remus said it was fine.” 

Lily laughed harder, watching water droplets glide down the stems and hit the wood. 

“Would you just... just let me ask you already?” James sounded exasperated, but his smile and shaking shoulders betrayed how funny he found her laugh. It made her insides warm. 

“Okay, okay. I’m listening. Go ahead.”

“Lily Evans...” He managed to begin, before she was laughing hysterically again. 

“Oh, come on.” James gave up, throwing the chocolate in her lap and falling onto the couch next to her. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry, please continue.”

“Mmmm, now I don’t think I can go out with someone who laughs as bad as a hydrangea.” 

“You mean a hyena?” James was never good at knowing “muggle” animals.

James turned his face to look at her, ignoring the correction and moving the flowers so they were closer to her. 

“Lily. I’d like to take you on a date some time, if you’ll let me.”

Lily enjoyed how quickly he could go from joking and playful to sincere and serious. She smiled, and took the flowers. Then she vanished them back into the vase in the kitchen before she slid closer to him. 

“I haven’t spent years embarrassing myself in front of you to say no.” 

James smiled and leaned in to kiss her. 

After what felt like hours of fireworks and electricity running through her body, she broke away to give another tiny laugh. “Too bad you can’t fly home in this storm, you’ll have to stay here for the night.” 

“My, my, Evans. Making the moves already?” 

She huffed, and hit him on the shoulder. 

“Git. What I’m saying is, the only other clothes big enough to fit you in this house are the Madam Puddifoots t-shirts, and I’m so looking forward to seeing you in neon pink.”

The look on Jame’s face was priceless.

BONUS:

The next morning found Remus at the kitchen table peacefully drinking tea and reading the paper. He read about Celestina Warbeck’s recently announced tour, and took a sip of tea only to promptly spit it out as Lily walked into the kitchen in the over-sized pink t-shirt. James followed with a bright smile and real post-sex hair. 

“It’s... about time?” Remus offered. 

Lily just smiled. Yeah, it was about time. But now they had all the time in the world. 

[firebrands]

#12 for stevetony?? 💞

“Prank” war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public. sorry this took a while! i hope you like it!! | on ao3

(@desitonystark asked for this too!)

**

It starts when Tony teases Steve and says, “I love that I can make you blush like that.”

And Steve replies, “I know. I like making you blush, too.”

“But you don’t,” Tony says, looking at Steve quizzically.

“Yes I do,” Steve says, looking affronted.

“I mean sometimes, sure,” Tony says, laughing a little. “Definitely not as much as I make you blush.”

Steve furrows his brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Please,” Tony says, waving his hand as if shooing away a fly. “It’s only a challenge if there’s a chance of you winning.”

*

Tony thinks nothing more of their conversation until he and Steve are walking into Fury’s office. Steve’s hand is on his shoulder, guiding him forward. Then Steve’s hand slides slowly down Tony’s back, and then even further down to give Tony’s ass a quick squeeze right as Fury turns towards them.

Tony lets put an undignified squawk and feels his cheeks color.

Beside him, Steve sits down, smug smile on his face.

“Oh it’s on, Rogers,” Tony mutters to him.

Fury rolls his eyes. “Please, spare my one good eye of your indecency.”

*

Steve’s prodding the egg frying in the pan when Tony arrives, sweatpants slung low on his hips and wearing one of Steve’s old army shirts with the sleeves cut off.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Tony purrs, as he places two fingers on Steve’s jaw to turn his head to his.

Steve’s about to open his mouth and say, “try harder,” but Tony beats him to it by tiptoeing and kissing him lewdly.

Steve pulls away, breathless, and his cheeks feel much like the egg that’s now sizzling in the pan.

“Really?” Bruce says, frowning at them from his perch on the kitchen counter. “In front of my cereal?”

Tony pours himself a cup of coffee and blows Steve a kiss as he walks out of the kitchen. “Ball’s in your court, baby!” he says, and Steve watches Tony’s perfect ass sway as he leaves, helpless and half-hard as his breakfast burns. 

*

Tony steps out of the elevator, typing out an email to Pepper about his last meeting when he’s overwhelmed by the smell of roses. He stops and puts down his phone.

“Seriously, can you and Steve just fuck it out like normal people?” Clint asks, standing in the middle of the room, arms akimbo. His nose is red.

Tony barely processes what Clint says, staring at the absolute multitudes of flowers adorning the common room. Red, pink, and white bouquets.

Clint sneezes as he picks his way through the flowers, bends down to pick up something, then shoves a card against Tony’s chest. “Here’s your card from your dumb boyfriend,” he says, before blowing his nose.

Tony opens up the card and winces as Clint continues to sneeze and mutter under his breath.

Written on the card in Steve’s large scrawl: 

i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens; only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses

Tony’s cheeks color, and he feels a little misty-eyed as he rereads the line of poetry. Then, all of the sudden, he notices Natasha beside him. She smirks and takes a picture of Tony with her phone.

“Looks like you’ve got to keep up, Tony,” she laughs, and picks up a bouquet as she saunters away.

*

Tony invites the team out to dinner, and Steve is already on his guard. It’s a nice restaurant, and they’re half-way through dessert when a barbershop quartet materialize out of nowhere.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Tony says, smiling serenely as he licks off the last of his ice cream from his spoon.

Bruce groans.

“We heard you’re celebrating an anniversary!” one jovial-looking man pipes up. “We have a request to sing a certain song for Captain Rogers.”

Steve opens his mouth to beg them not to, but the men stand up a bit straighter as they get ready to sing, and his mouth clicks shut.

If your heart goes bumpety-bumpIt’s love, love, loveIf your throat comes up with a lumpIt’s love, love, loveIf your knees go knockety-knockIt’s love, love, love

Steve smiles slowly, familiar with the beat, and he nods along as they sing. Beside him, he can feel Tony almost vibrating eagerly, waiting. The rest of the team seems to enjoy the performance, and soon, the men finish the song to a round of applause.

Tony stares at Steve, looking a bit confused for a moment. Steve gives Tony a shit-eating grin. “Try again next time?” he teases.

The team’s shaking hands with the singers when Tony rests his hand on Steve’s thigh. Steve turns to Tony, curious. He shifts a little as Tony slides his hand a bit higher up Steve’s thigh and he leans close to whisper: “I can’t wait to get home so you can fuck me raw.” 

Steve feels his cheeks heat up Tony’s hot breath against his skin, and feels them heat up more at the images Tony’s placed in his head. Tony gives his thigh a quick squeeze before pulling away.

“I don’t even want to know,” Clint says, eyes wide at how flushed Steve is.

*

Steve’s looking through a dossier with Natasha when Tony walks past them wearing a black tank top and jeans. His arms are streaked with grease, and Steve swallows when he sees his dog tags gleaming on Tony’s chest.

“You can’t be that easy,” Natasha says, turning to look at Steve, faint disappointment on her features.

“I’m not,” Steve breathes out, eyes still on Tony as anticipation builds slowly in his gut.

Bruce, from across the room, folds down the newspaper he’s holding to watch as Tony rucks up his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead. He

Steve swallows again, then uses the last reserves of his gumption to walk up to Tony.

Tony, clearly not expecting these turn of events, looks up at Steve, surprised. 

Steve can almost see the gears turning in Tony’s head when he thumbs away a bit of grease he’s pretty sure Tony put on his cheek on purpose.

“Hi there,” he says.

“Hello,” Tony replies, and rests a hand on Steve’s waist in an effort to regain control over the situation.

Steve moves his hand to rest on Tony’s chest, his dog tags cold against his palm.

“I have to finish up here,” he murmurs to Tony. He’s delighted to see Tony lean closer, like he wanted him to. “But how about you get cleaned up and ready for me?” he whispers, bending down so his lips brush against Tony’s ear.

“Okay,” Tony says, his voice a little higher than usual.

“Keep these on for me?” Steve asks, holding up his dog tags. “I like knowing that you’re mine.”

“Y-yeah,” Tony stammers out, cheeks beet red.

“Off you go,” Steve smirks, pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek and turning Tony back toward the door. “See you in a minute.”

“Yup!” Tony says, voice high as he almost runs out the door.

“Oh, bravo,” Natasha laughs, clapping. Bruce shakes his head and goes back to reading the paper. 

send me a prompt for cute otp things!

[metalbatandzenko]

Continuing on with the college!Au Since Mumen is too shy and scared to confess his feelings to Saitama he decided to write secret love letters to Saitama (Which are totally cheesy) Saitama reaction is up to you.

The notes started small.

A hello here, a compliment there. 

Saitama hadn’t even been the one to find the first one, Mumen had.

Mumen thumbed through their mail, sorting out the ads.

“Ad, bill, flyer, rent, ad–eh? Saitama, this one’s addressed to you.”

Saitama looked up from his position on the floor. “You can just get rid of it,” he said with a shrug. “An ad’s an ad no matter who it’s addressed to.”

Mumen flushed. “I don’t think that’s what this is.”

He held up a small blue envelope. 

Saitama stood and took the envelope from Mumen.

The envelope didn’t have an address or stamp on it, just Saitama’s name written in neat, uniform letters.

Mumen turned on his heel. “Well, I’ll let you read it in private.”

Saitama stopped him, slinging his arm around his roommate. “Nah. Whatever this is, I’m sure you can see it too!”

Mumen swallowed.

Saitama nudged him. “Relax, man. People haven’t sent anthrax by mail in like, ten years.”

“What? No, I’m not worried about that,” Mumen said. “It’s just–this seems private, I’m gonna just–” he ducked under Saitama’s arm. 

“Wh–Hey!”

“I’ll be back in a bit!” Mumen said, retreating into his room.

Saitama sighed, but turned his attention back to the envelope. He unsealed it and pulled out a greeting card with a monkey saying “Go bananas!” on it.

The card was one he and Mumen had seen when they’d gone grocery shopping the other day. He’d pulled it off the shelf and shown it to his roommate. 

He chuckled. Mumen hadn’t been nearly as impressed with the card’s joke as Saitama.

Saitama opened the card.

In it was a short message:

Saw this card and thought of you. I hope you have a great day, handsome.

There was no signature, just a small heart at the bottom.

Saitama stared at the heart.

“Mumen, you can come out now, it was just a prank.”

His roommate materialized next to him. “A prank? What do you mean?”

Saitama jumped. “Ah! Don’t do that man!”

He hadn’t even known Mumen could move that fast. 

Mumen backed up. “Sorry!”

“It’s ok. But yeah, it was just a prank.”

Mumen’s face darkened, taking Saitama aback. 

He’d never seen more than a slight frown from the guy, and now he was borderline glowering.

“Why do you think it’s a prank?”

Saitama placed the card on the counter. “They called me handsome.”

Mumen blinked. “And?”

Saitama shrugged.

“Do you not think you’re handsome, Saitama?”

“Do you?” Saitama asked.

“Of course I do!” Mumen responded earnestly. 

Saitama felt his face warm. “Oh. Okay.”

—

The fifth note was more extensive.

Saitama,

I hope this note finds you well. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately (not in a weird way, I promise). It’s just…you mean a lot to me. You’re sweet, you’re funny, you don’t let things or people get to you–it’s inspiring honestly. 

I don’t know how to convince you that I’m earnest in my affection. Knowing how you are, you probably think I’m yanking your chain.

But I like you. I like you a lot.

And I promise I’m not just some random stalker creep. We know each other–know each other well, actually.

I’m just scared to say anything to you to your face because what if I screw everything up? I really value our friendship. I don’t want to lose that.

So until I figure out how to navigate that, these notes it is.

Have a good day, and stay safe.

Saitama chuckled at the disclaimers.

He pored over the note, tracing over the letters. The author had a distinct way of writing their r’s: the arc curled up and looped around.

He smiled. So they were serious.

—

After the fifth note, Saitama wrote a note of his own.

Hey,

Sorry I don’t have your name so I can’t address this properly. You’ve been on my mind a lot too, I mean, having a secret admirer is kinda exciting.

And I’m glad you’re someone I know. I’d like to know you better. 

If the notes is how we do that, the notes it is.

-Saitama.

He put the note in a plain envelope and drew a simple heart on the outside. He placed it on the doorstep, where it would be easy to see.

When he went to grab the mail an hour later, the envelope was gone.

—

“Hey Sai, there was another note for you on the doorstep,” Mumen said, tossing him the envelope.

Saitama sat up. “Already?”

He opened the note.

Saitama,

I don’t know how much I can tell you about myself without revealing who I am.

How about two truths and a lie?

1. I’m a guy.

2. I once got bit by a rattlesnake.

3. I was attacked by crows when I was a kid.

Have fun :)

—

Hey,

Rattlesnakes aren’t native to anywhere local, so I’m gonna guess that’s your lie.

Here’s one of my own:

1. I shave my head

2. When I was a kid I wanted to be a superhero

3. I once got a package of premium steak for less than quarter of what it would normally cost because of my couponing

-Saitama

—

Saitama came home to a bouquet of red carnations on the kitchen counter with a note sticking out of the top.

Saitama,

Ding ding ding! Yep, I didn’t get bit by a rattlesnake. I did get bit by a garter snake, but those aren’t venomous. I hope you like your prize.

Obviously the answer is shaving your head. You bragged about the steak thing for weeks, and I’ve seen your comic book collection. You’re not fooling anyone.

If it makes you feel any better, I think the superhero thing is cute.

He turned to Mumen. “Did you bring these in?”

Mumen looked up from his position on the couch. “Yeah, your secret admirer gave me the flowers so they wouldn’t just be left on the doormat.”

Saitama sat down next to him. “So you know who he is?”

Mumen looked away. “I’m not saying anything.”

“You do!” Saitama scooted even closer. “Come on, just give me a hint.”

“That would be breaking strict wingman-admirer confidentiality,” Mumen stammered out.

Saitama huffed. “You’re no fun.”

—

Saitama came home the next day to find a sticky-note stuck on the fridge, covered in Mumen’s familiar scrawl.

Sai,

We’re out of vegetables. Gonna hit the store. Don’t worry, I brought your coupon books, I promise we’re getting the best deal on the food.

Be back soon.

-Mumen

Saitama snorted, plucking the note off the fridge. 

His eyes locked on the word store.

On the r was a little loop, just like the ones in the letters he’d been getting.

Saitama opened the drawer he’d been storing the letters in. 

The p’s, r’s and e’s on the letters were all formed the same as the one in Mumen’s note, albeit a neater version.

—

Mumen opened the door, arms laden with groceries. “Sai, mind giving me a hand?”

His roommate took one of the bags from him. “How was the store?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he replied. “You’d be proud of me. I took this ramen from an old man.”

“I’ve never been more attracted to you in my life.”

Mumen felt his face warm.

The two unloaded the groceries in silence.

“So…you got attacked by crows as a kid, huh?”

Mumen’s hands stilled. 

Saitama stuttered, seeming to take Mumen’s stunned silence as offense.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to figure it out it’s just–I saw your note, and I saw the letters and your handwriting is similar and–”

“Did I ruin it?” He asked quietly.

His roommate paused. “Ruin what?”

Mumen swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Our friendship.”

“Did you–what? No. Hey, look at me.”

Mumen looked up. 

Saitama grinned at him. “I’ve been flirting with you for months, man. You just never seemed to realize it. I was hoping it was you.”

“What?”

His roommate stared at him. “Mumen, everyone but you knew that.”

“WHAT?!”

Saitama laughed. “You’re cute when you’re surprised.” He lifted his hand, cupping Mumen’s cheek. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Mumen leaned into Saitama’s palm. “Yeah, you too.”

“…Ok but I do need an explanation of that crow thing.”

[kumeko]

A/N: Happy Birthday Claude! This was written for the Master Tactician Claude zine, which focused on Claude and his pranks. I love him, Edel’s, and Dimi’s could-have-been friendship, however little it was shown in the game, and couldn’t resist here.

Summary: With the Battle of Eagle and Lion coming up, the Golden Deer needed to know Edelgard’s and Dimitri’s weaknesses. Luckily, Hilda and Claude knew just how to find it.

…

…

…

…

Scanning the monastery’s garden, Claude smiled as he spotted Hilda seated near the gazebo. Or, to be more accurate, he smiled as soon as he saw the tea set spread on the small round table in front of her. Even from here, he could see the sun reflecting off the silver teapot. It was a beautiful set. It also most certainly wasn’t hers. Clasping his hands behind his head, he casually strolled over to her. “So which poor sap did you scam this time?”

 Hilda didn’t bother to look at him when she answered, her attention instead on a plate full of perfectly formed scones. She replied, indignant, “How rude. I don’t scam.”

 “Right.” Claude chuckled. The second they’d met, he had known that he’d found a friend for life. There were so few people who were clever with their words and actions, fewer still who were also up for some innocent mischief. Pulling out the second chair, he plopped down across from her. The metal was warmed from the sun, the weather finally picking up after all that cold. Leaning back in his seat, he raised a brow. “Who’s the poor sucker you borrowed this from?”

 Delicately, she picked up a scone and admired it. “A very gallant Ferdinand set this up for me.” She took a small bite, smiling brightly. “Lorenz generously provided the tea and snacks. I hardly expected this when they led me here. They’re both so very kind, don’t you agree?”

“Oh definitely. I’ll send them a thank you note later.” Claude snorted, amused. He wondered when the rest of the academy would wise up to Hilda’s ways; part of him was certain the answer would be ‘never’.  Which was perfectly fine with him, it made information gathering so much easier. Pouring tea into his cup, he breathed in the aroma. “Rose petal again?”

 “Lorenz has access to the best roses,” Hilda explained, taking a sip herself and moaning slightly. “I always pick my targets carefully.”

 “Targets?” Claude teased, setting down his cup. The flavour was far too delicate for his tastes. He preferred stronger blends but then again, he wasn’t the one setting the table.

 “Friends,” Hilda corrected without missing a beat. She smiled brightly. “Friends always help one another, don’t they?”

 “If this is how you treat your friends, I’d hate to see your enemies.” Claude grinned back. Closing his eyes, he sighed. The sun really was warm against his skin. “I guess the weather really is changing now.”

 “Yeah.” Hilda agreed, sipping her tea once more. Her fingers curled carefully around the cup’s handle, her elegant posture one of practiced ease. “I hate having tea when it’s hot out. At least we’re no longer in that musty room of yours.”

 “Musty?” Claude glared at her, feeling put out. “I actually clean it, you know.”

 “Oh sure, once a month?” Hilda shook her head disparagingly. “It’s always a mess.”

 “A carefully organized mess.” Claude crossed his arms defensively. “You never know who might be looking.”

 “Someone could have looked and you’ll never know, it’s so darned messy.” Hilda shrugged, unrepentant. “I’m glad we’re no longer meeting there.”

 Claude clicked his tongue but there was no point in arguing about it anymore. They had this same disagreement every week. “Well, I’ll miss the privacy, but I suppose it’s easier to keep an eye on everyone here.” He glanced around the semi-empty garden, a few stray students strolling through it as they travelled from one part of the monastery or the other. What he really missed was the safety from eavesdroppers, but now that the weather had picked up, it would be strange if he and Hilda didn’t meet outdoors.  

 “I don’t think you need any help in that.” She circled the lip of her cup with a finger. “That reminds me, though, the Battle of Eagle and Lion is coming up now.”

 “It is that time of year,” he murmured, trying not to smile as they went straight to business. “It’s going to be a tough battle this year.”

 “Dimitri’s pretty strong and Edelgard knows how to strategize. It really can go anyway.” Hilda set down her cup and leaned closer. Her eyes sparkled, an eager expression crossing her face, and she asked, “What are we going to do about that?”

 “Welll…” With an identical smile, he leaned closer as well. “That is a good question. It’ll be a lot easier to answer if I know what their weaknesses are.”

 “Weaknesses…” Hilda frowned. “Edelgard seems like she has none.”

 Claude nodded solemnly. “That’s true, she does seem perfect. Still, everyone has one, you just need to find it.”

 “Even you?” Hilda looked at him curiously, and despite how casual her words were, he could feel her probing. “What are yours?”

 “Tell me yours and I’ll share,” he counter offered, side-stepping her query with practiced ease. When she didn’t reply, he added, “You know, I’ve always wondered what Edelgard looks like when she’s surprised.”

 Hilda gave him a look but accepted the misdirect. Clasping her hands together, she hummed. “Yeah, I can’t imagine anything surprising her. Dimitri seems a little easier to rile up and shock, but he also gets over it so fast.”

 “You know, he’s starting to figure out when I’m teasing him!” Claude scowled, his cheeks puffing slightly at the memory. “He used to fall so easily!”

 “Maybe you’re just getting bad at it.” She always knew how to press his buttons. Ignoring the dirty look he sent her, she pulled out a small cloth bag. Just where she’d hid it, Claude had no idea. “That reminds me, though, I picked up something from Lorenz just now.”

 “At the tea party?” So, that was her motive behind it. And here he thought she wanted to set things up for him. He took the bag from her and pressed it softly. There was something grainy inside. “Tea?” he guessed.

 “A very sour one,” Hilda confirmed, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on it. She pouted slightly. “I can still taste it now. It’s horrible.”

 “I wonder if their highnesses have tried it yet.” Claude carefully pocketed the bag. While his tone was light, his mind was already whirling with possibilities. “I imagine their reaction would be immediate.”

 “Oh definitely. It’s hard to not react when you’ve tasted it.” Hilda lowered her eyes, her lips twisting slightly as she sighed. “Unfortunately, Dedue and Hubert make their tea and there’s no way you can sneak it past them.”

 “That’s true.” Claude paused dramatically. “But I happen to have a meeting with them today. It’s house head only, and, as luck would have it, I am hosting.”

 “Ohhh?” Hilda looked surprised. She was faking it, of course, and Claude didn’t know what to feel about the fact that he could read her so easily now. Or that maybe she could read him too. “Then perhaps you could use it.”

 Claude shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps.”

 -x-

 For this knowledge-gathering task (which is what he’d call it if he were caught), Claude had everything on his side. The setting was the Golden Deer classroom, giving him a homefield advantage. As the one hosting it, he had control over the food and snacks, giving him ample time to prepare. Better yet, he didn’t have to worry about Hubert or Dedue alerting their house heads. Sure, Hilda wouldn’t be around either to witness this spectacular moment, but it was a much-needed sacrifice.

 The only part he had to figure out was who to trick. He couldn’t get both of them at the same time—if only one cup tasted off, he could call it a strange accident. If it were two, they’d know immediately it was him. The only other option was giving all three of them the bad tea. Claude was willing to do many things for a prank, but self-destruct was not one of them.

 Of the two, he ended up picking Edelgard. As Hilda had said, the emperor was impeccable.

 Today, he’d finally see what made her tick.

 When Dimitri and Edelgard entered the classroom, Claude smiled and gestured at the long table near the front. “I’ve already set things up for us.”

 As usual, Edelgard looked apprehensive. The emperor didn’t know how to trust. Which, to be perfectly fair, was the right attitude for this situation, but still. She really needed to learn to loosen up. “It’s rare for you to be so well-prepared.”

 “Well, Ferdinand and Lorenz helped a bit.” It was only a half-lie; he’d borrowed most of the spread from Hilda. “I can’t always look bad around you.”

 Edelgard scrutinized him. He smiled easily under her intense stare. Giving up, she sighed, “See to it that you’re like this in our future meetings. It’s a waste of time otherwise.”

 “You wound me, I am always prepared for out meetings.” Claude clutched his chest dramatically as he set down three tea-filled cups. Dimitri liked sitting on the edge, for easy escapes. Edelgard liked having her back against the wall, to be able to see everything in the room. And Claude was willing to adapt to whatever the situation would call for. “Let me just grab some paper.”

 As he crossed over to the professor’s desk, picking up the materials he’d prepared, he listened to the sound of chairs scraping, of cloth rustling as his two companions sat down. All according to the plan.

 “This looks good,” Dimitri murmured. There was a soft clink as a cup was lifted. “I don’t recognize the scent though.”

 “It’s something from Lorenz,” Claude explained, turning around with a wide smile. “It’s a…” His expression froze at the sight before him. Dimitri was sitting where Claude should have. All in all, that wasn’t a bad thing, it didn’t really matter if they switched places. No, what made it worse was that perched where Dimitri should have been, was Edelgard.

 She looked up at him, her eyes sharp. “Something wrong?”

 Part of him wondered if she knew, if someone had been lurking about those bushes earlier. He couldn’t ask, of course, that would give the game away, but the answer would haunt him. “N-nothing.” Claude forced a smile as he slowly walked toward his doom. “As I was saying, Lorenz got some new samples and I wanted to give them a try.”

 “He is a big tea drinker,” Edelgard mused, picking up a scone. “He and Ferdinand are often entertaining one another.”

 “The tea-lovers club,” he joked, standing behind his seat now. There was no way around it, was there? He couldn’t even mention how odd it was that they’d all swapped places, because that’d bring attention to the matter. Steeling himself, he sat down on his chair. “Anyone from your house willing to join, Dimitri?”

 Dimitri picked up one of the small cookies and shook his head. “No one is as enthusiastic as those two, though Annette has a thing for sweets.”

 “Just like Lysithea then.” Claude tapped a pen against his paper, a wry smirk making its way across his face. “And Felix really hates sweets, right? What if they—”

 “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Edelgard cut in immediately, her jaw tightening slightly as she looked at him.

 Claude puffed his cheeks, protesting, “Hey, I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

 “I know what you’re thinking and no. Especially not with the battle so close; tensions between houses are high enough as it is.” Edelgard took a bite from her scone. Somehow, it didn’t crumble and Claude wondered if she’d made a deal with a devil. There had to be a supernatural reason for her constantly immaculate state.

 “Felix gets riled up very easily,” Dimitri agreed, his tone pensive. “However, I think the intermingling is a good idea. After the battle, maybe, to help ease any lingering feelings? It could help unite our houses.”

 “Diplomatic as ever. Something like this tea party?” Claude cupped his cheek with a hand, leaning into it. “I didn’t realize you were so fond of us. Or is it just me?”

 “What…” Dimitri spluttered, dropping the cookie as he flushed a bright red. “I don’t…”

 “Am I wrong?” Claude teased further, watching as Dimitri ran through several shades of red.

 Edelgard gave him an indecipherable look before turning to Claude. “Enough with the jokes.” Glancing at his cup, she raised her brow and asked, “Is the tea not to your liking? You haven’t sipped it.”

 Crap. Claude strained to smile, picking up the cup as they both looked at him curiously. “No, not at all, I was just waiting for it to cool a little.” He lifted it to his lips, silently swearing as they watched. Did they not have anything better to do? Maybe they had overheard. Bracing himself, he took a sip.

 Immediately, a taste sourer than lemons hit his tongue and it took all of his strength to not gag at the taste. When Hilda said it’d be a showstopper, she hadn’t been kidding. Not even Edelgard would have been able to ignore this, and it was his lack of preparations that led to this waste. Forcing it down with a swallow, he coughed. “That…was something, huh?”

 “Are you okay?” Dimitri asked, half out of his seat with concern. “You look unwell.”

 “Perhaps a visit to Manuela,” Edelgard suggested, her brow knit as she glanced at her tea. “I thought the taste was quite pleasant.”

 “It’s nothing,” he managed, wincing. Just what was this tea made of and who had made it?

 “Let’s call off the meeting.” Edelgard stood up now, worry etched across her face as she reached over for his tea. “We can do this another time. It could be serious.”

 “It’s just not to my taste, that’s all.” He waved off their concern, forcing his smile back in place. Claude batted off Edelgard’s hand before she could take the evidence. “Though, I didn’t realize you both cared for me so much. I’m touched, I really am.”

 Dimitri opened his mouth to argue before closing it and shaking his head. He sat down with an irritated shake of his head.

 “If you can talk like that, you’re fine.” Edelgard scowled, returning to her seat. “Now that your theatrics are over, we should get back to actual important issues, like the upcoming battle.”

 “How cold! Still, you can act like that, but I know the truth. You care,” Claude sang, discreetly pushing his teacup away from him. Well, it wasn’t a perfect cover up, but it worked out well enough. Besides, it might not be a weakness, exactly, but Edelgard had been concerned about him. On some level, he mattered to her. There was bound to be some way or another he could use that, even if only to further his own dream.

 But, wow, he could still taste it. Maybe he could get another batch from Lorenz later (or rather, have Hilda get it again). It was way too good an item to not prank at least one person with.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Louder than words (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! I got that idea out of nowhere and had quite a different plan for this, but I'm not mad at the direction it went in. It's fluffy and warm

Link to AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797814

Enjoy! <3

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

She moved with confidence through the halls of the hospital, a file in her hand as she approached the room of her next patient. She was almost done with her shift, only two hours left, and she was told by the nurses that the person she was about to meet was one of the most nice but demanding people she would ever meet. It made her feel excited and anxious at the same time, loving the challenge and wanting to be the best doctor she could be for that patient.

Opening the door with a friendly smile, she looked at her patient. A woman was lying in bed, reading a book with glasses on her nose. When she heard Claire coming in, she looked up, a pleasant smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

“Ah, you must be my doctor. Pleasure to meet you, Doctor…”

“Herondale. It’s nice to meet you Mrs… Ramsey?” she muttered with shock, looking up from her chart with shock written all over her face.

“Judging by your face, you know my grandson, Ethan, don’t you?” she laughed warmly as Claire nodded slightly, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment.

Never would she have thought that she would meet Ethan’s grandmother. They have talked about their families and maybe a thought of meeting their relatives crossed their minds, but definitely not that early. Now, she didn’t have a choice, his grandmother was right before her.

Ethan didn’t talk a lot about people who raised him, but he did mention the old woman once or twice. From the way he was talking about her told Claire that he valued her opinion and how much he appreciated her being in his life.

“I sure do. He talks about you all the time, Mrs. Ramsey.”

“Oh, does he? He doesn’t keep in touch with my son or my daughter-in-law, and I think that’s mostly their fault. They didn’t try to understand him, they didn’t support him, they turned him away. It’s hard to be around people that don’t believe in you, wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Herondale?” she wondered out loud, shaking her head. “Please, sit down if you have a moment. It’s been a while since I could talk to anyone about my grandson, it’s a refreshing experience.”

“I will, right after we get you some tests and figure out what I can do for you, okay?” Claire smiled brightly, focusing on diagnosing her.

After a few minutes they had their answer, tests were ordered and both women were engaged in a deep conversation. They exchanged the small details that made Ethan the man he was, what Claire noticed and what Mrs. Ramsey could tell her, and by some miracle, the pager didn’t go off.

“He broke three plates while stealing the cake, leaving a path of icing and crumbs all the way to his room. He hid in his closet, eating what he managed to get, and when I found him he had his whole face covered in chocolate. Of course, he blamed everything on the dog, and everyone believed him. Besides me, of course, but that was our little secret.” A memory flooded her mind, bringing a smile onto her face. Claire smirked as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“So young Ethan was a hellraiser, huh. I am definitely going to remind him of that any chance I will get, you can be sure of that.” Both women laughed as their hands met in a warm embrace.

“I am so glad he has a friend like you, darling. You seem like the nicest person I’ve ever met. Makes me sad that he seems to be in love with someone else.”

That kicked the air out of Claire’s lungs. Mentions of love and her not being on the other side of it made her feel insecure all over again. So Ethan talked to his grandmother about… someone else? It all confused her, made her head spin. Mrs. Ramsey must have seen it, because she squeezed her hand a little tighter. Having made sure she was okay, she started listing things Ethan said.

“He talks a lot about her. How his heart beats faster when she is close, how her smile brightens up his day. If I recall correctly, he said that if he could, he would never leave her side… and he mentioned that he works with her. Maybe you know her? Her name is-“

“Grandma? What are you doing here?” Ethan’s voice interrupted her train of thoughts, standing by the side of her bed.

“Ethan, dear! How are you, are they treating you alright here? I know I am taken care of, Dr. Herondale is doing an amazing job. And while I am here, maybe you can introduce me to Claire? I want to meet her.” his grandma spoke, clearly not aware of the fact that she already met her.

Ethan’s eyes widened, looking to Claire, who had a look of shock combined with the biggest grin he has ever seen. At that moment he knew that he would never live this down, but if that meant that she would be by his side till the end of time to remind him of that, he was ready to endure it.

“Um, Mrs. Herondale-“

“Tana, please.” She smiled at the young doctor, only slightly confused about what was happening.

“Claire, maybe we should-“ Ethan started out hesitantly, his face twisting into the expression of a caught man as Tana gasped, delighted by the new piece of information.

“You’re Claire? Oh, what a glorious piece of news it is! I was secretly hoping it was you. I must have given you a heart attack earlier.” She laughed and Claire breathed a relieved sigh, nodding her head.

“You have no idea.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What heart attack. What did you two talk about?” his eyes jumped between the two women, completely lost. Claire smirked at him, looking up at him innocently.

“Oh, you know, childhood stories, your thoughts on me. All the good stuff, I promise.”

“Claire, dear, did I tell you about that time he painted the walls in his room black-“

“That is enough! We are terribly sorry, but we have to run, diagnostic team meeting is about to start. I’ll check on you before I leave tonight, okay?” Ethan exclaimed, taking Claire by her hand and pulling her up and away from Tana. Embarrassment was clear on his face and he was ready to do anything to help his own situation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you the whole story later.” Tana whispered as she and Claire laughed hugging before the two doctors left the room.

Once on the hallway and far enough to ensure they would not be heard, Claire turned to a very flustered Ethan.

“There is no meeting today and you know it” she smirked as she leaned onto the wall. He closed his eyes, knowing fully well that there was no fooling her.

“You’re way too smart, Rookie. No, there isn’t. I just wanted to get you away from my grandmother, before she embarrasses me further.” He muttered, walking closer to her, their eyes locking.

“You know that it’s inevitable? I am her doctor, just look at how much she told me in those thirty minutes today. I.” she laughed, grabbing his tie. “Will.” She curled the material around her hand. “Know.” She pulled on it, hauling him onto her. “Everything.”

Their lips met in a searing kiss, time and place they were in be damned. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. She responded immediately, her other hand gripping his hair tightly. Getting lost in each other seemed so easy when they were together, way too easy to forget the world. His lips moved down her neck, causing Claire’s eyes to open slightly, bringing some sense to her.

“Ethan…” she breathed his name, her lips curling around it softly and caringly. He hummed, continuing his ministrations on her skin, his fingers curling around her hips. “Ethan.”

He pulled himself away from her, purely by the force of he didn’t know he had, coming to his senses. Claire laughed gently, stroking his cheek softly as she pulled him by his hand.

“Come on, take me home.”

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

Few days passed and with every moment Claire spent with Tana, more and more of Ethan’s past came to light. She appreciated all the insight she got, knowing that he didn’t give away anything willingly.

Tana’s hand was wrapped tightly around her arm as they walked through the halls slowly, their voices quiet, laughing at yet another memory. Other members of the hospital personnel didn’t pay them much attention, the sight of doctors accompanying their patients was quite common.

“So, my son was never fond of Ethan’s pranks, as you can imagine. He may be a seemingly calm and collected man that doesn’t joke, but when he was younger…” words of the elder lady amused Claire, who had quite a hard time imagining young Ethan, raising hell and giving his parents trouble.

“He said that time and time again, that he absolutely hated joking and that he isn’t the type to joke. What a liar.” Claire laughed, shaking her head as she thought of all the ways she could tease him about it.

“Did he now? You should hear about the time-“

“No. Absolutely not. You are coming with me.” Ethan’s voice pierced the air, silencing two women. His hand grabbed Claire’s, pulling her away from his grandmother and towards his office. Tana’s laughter rang after them, saying something about seeing them later.

The door closed behind them with a slam as he pressed her against it, his forehead touching hers softly. Her arms wrapped around his neck, smiling up at him gracefully.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say that you’re hiding something from me. Good that it’s just you not being able to stay away from me, right?”

Teasing him has become her favorite past time, and the way he reacted made her unable to stop. Every time she touched him or spoke to him in that low, warm voice, it made him feel all the emotions he never though he could experience. In any other circumstance, with anyone else, he would push them away, insisting that he didn’t need them. With her, it was different. With her, he wanted to try.

“There are still so many things you don’t know about me, all of them could change the way you look at me. All could be different if you listened to the stories through their eyes. I just… care about you. And I don’t want you to see me through the glasses made of my past.” He mused pensively, carefully, gauging her reaction. She pulled him to her, hugging him tightly as she whispered into his ear.

“Your past is a part of you. It’s who you are, you wouldn’t be the man you are today if past didn’t happen. Your Grandma is an amazing woman, she would never do anything to hurt you. All she told me were the storied of your childhood, which, by the way, only confirmed my suspicions.” She cut off, waiting for him to lean back and look at her. “You were the most adorable, little troublemaker to ever walk this planet.”

He scoffed as she giggled, hiding his face in her neck as she stroked his hair. They remained in this position for quite a while, breathing each other in, unable to let the other go. The more time passed, the tighter their embrace got, so much so, that at some point he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the couch. He lied down, letting her head rest against his chest, his fingers running through her hair soothingly.

“You can tell me everything, Ethan. Or you can tell me nothing at all. It’s up to you, and I want you to know that I support and respect that, whatever you decide to do.” She muttered against the material of his shirt, her hand trailing down his arm to lace their fingers together. He hugged her tighter, letting his actions speak louder than words ever could.

 ------------

Tag list:   @paleweasels​, @lilyofchoices​, @hopelessromantic1352​, @aloehasrose​, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian​, @radlovedreamer​, @usuallyamazinglyaverage​, @palestazure​, @cordoniaqueensworld​, @universallypizzataco​, @princess-geek​, @faithhasnowords​, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms​, @drakewalkerfantasy​, @timmagicktoad​, @laceandlula​, @greywitchyshots​, @llamasgrl​, @gingerjane15​, @bucket-harrington​ , @marywrites-things​ , @ethanplaysfavorites​ , @mfackenthal​ , @betelgeusebee​ , @simsvetements​,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374​, @cora-nova​, @aworldoffandoms​, @l822​, @cream-ray​, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies​, @justendlesssummerfeels​, @togetherwearerapture-blog, @desmaranj​, @edgiestwinter​, @friedherringclodthing​, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned​, @hazah​, @lapisreviewsstuff​, @the-soot-sprite​, @writerapprentice​, @chasingrobbie​,@choicesobsessedd​, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x​, @thisperfectmemory​, @drakewalker04​, @rookie-ramsey​, @jlynn12273​, @yesimacerealkiller​, @thepinknymph​ @dr-brianna-casey-valentine​, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h​,

[thekrazykeke]

So we ended the last part on a dramatic note. I left all of y’all wondering, ‘what’s in the box?’, everyone was clamoring and screaming, claiming ‘its a spider or snake’, one beautifully funny comment that it was M’Baku’s idea of a prank! 😂This part, we discover what happened to the reader and what sinister forces are moving against her.

Let’s begin 😘

Continued from here.

@elaindeereads @autumn242 @punkrockwxnnabe @palmsofgranate @strawberrysoftkitten @wikiwakanda @lovemekaycee @managingmischiefdaily @gothambrat @marvel-snatched-my-wigs @youreadthatright @lovelylittlekittn @muse-of-mbaku @keya168

The plant attached to Y/N’s chest is deceptively beautiful. 

Erik can almost be fooled into thinking that it’s just a bouquet of wildflowers or something, except the minute he even reached in her general direction to remove the plant, a vine-like appendage tightened itself around her middle and the thing let out this eerie screech-roar sound that chilled his blood, making him hastily back off.

“Bast protect us.” T’Challa murmured, running a weary hand down his face. “It is a Black Mercy.”

“A what?” Brows furrowing, Erik tried to communicate that he needed to expound on his words.

“Black Mercy.” Shuri piped up. “To summarize briefly, this plant is indigenous only in Wakanda. However, perhaps because of it’s...” For a second, she paused, looking for a diplomatic word. “Temperamental nature, many years ago, even before our father’s reign, whole entire Black Mercy fields were burned to ash.” 

He’d called T’Challa the second Y/N had hit the ground and wouldn’t wake up. The plant, this Black Mercy, hadn’t been any bigger than a nickel then, and in less than an hour and a half, rapidly had gotten larger and that much more aggressive. 

Erik hadn’t expected both his cousins to pop up for some reason. 

Yea, he’d made progress with reconciling his behavior and all the shitty things he had done to people over the years, to try and be a better man going forward in his relationship with Y/N, but while he and T’Challa, for the most part, buried the hatch and were trying to act like family instead of just former enemies...

A proper conversation with Shuri hadn’t happened yet, and he ain’t stupid enough to think it’s water under the bridge. 

That’s what this lunch/dinner thing was supposed to be about; he’d spend time wit his girl and get a handle on how the teenager acted like in his presence, scared, uneasy or whatever, he’d deal with it and proceed from there. 

“A’ight, how we gettin’ this thing off?” Raising an eyebrow at the teenager, the former soldier gave her most of his attention, he couldn’t stop glancing down at his fiancee. “By fire?”

“Ah, it is not so simple as that, cousin...” T’Challa drawled. 

Clenching his jaw, he stared at the royal with irritation, “Nigga, if you don’t cut the mysterious act an’ tell me how to fix this s--” Erik’s hands waved threw the air with agitation and the plant... Hairs standing on the nape of his neck, he turned around just in time to see that a vine-like appendage slither up around Y/N’s neck. Feet moving of his own volition, he is about to step forward and try and get it off, again, but a firm hand on his chest stopped him. 

“Don’t.” Shuri stated, tone firm. Erik shook his head, about to shrug her hand off, but her next words stopped him. “You must not approach with the way you’re behaving. The Black Mercy attaches itself to a host, then traps them in a waking dream state based on their feelings. If this is not handled correctly or if it perceives you as a threat, it will kill her all the quicker and then latch itself onto another, going from person to person, feeding uncontrollably.” 

Body trembling with the need to move but also realizing the depth and gravity of the situation, Erik shook his head, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “...So, she sleepin’?”

Removing her hand, Shuri nodded. 

“She ain’t in pain?”

“Beyond the initial ‘bite’ the Black Mercy does not tend to harm it’s host. Keeping a person compliant and docile as it drains it’s vic...” T’Challa was making a slashing motion across his throat and Shuri snapped out of her ‘SCIENCE!’ mode, lecturing tone becoming sheepish, “A-ah, no! Nope. Y/N is not in pain, not at all really.”

Erik glanced between the two, shaking his head at their antics before looking at Y/N, so still and sleep, unaware of this sentient death trap attached to her. “So, I’ma ask again: how we gettin’ that thing off?”

“What state of mind was Y/N in prior to all of this? Happy, sad, thoughtful?” T’Challa inquired. “Clear your mind and embrace that particular emotion only. Talk to her, remind her of all the reasons that she has to cast aside the dream world and return to reality, to you.”

“And after that?” Erik doesn’t want to leave anything to chance.

“Brother and I will be doing the hard part. Once Y/N is awake and free of the Black Mercy, we only have a few precious seconds to burn it to ash, because during that time it will immediately attempt to attach itself to another host.” Shuri explained. “T’Challa has the added protection of the suit, which leaves you and Y/N vulnerable.” Pressing a kimoyo bead on her wrist, Erik’s eyebrows raised to his hairline as familiar kitty gauntlets appeared on her hands. 

“I will be on burning duty.”

“Sister, when did you make the, uh...” T’Challa hesitated, eyes darting to Erik then away. 

Shuri shrugged, expression innocent. “Research purposes.” Becoming more serious, she looked between both men. “Enough playing around. Are we ready?”

“Clear your mind.” T’Challa reminded Erik just before the suit materialized from the necklace, covering his entire body. 

‘I’d clear my mind if you’d cut it out wit this Yoda shit!’ Feeling the sting of irritation, he pushes the feeling down and away, gaze focusing on Y/N. Recalling her goofy victory dance, her playful words and her smile. 

This time, when he reached for her, the Black Mercy did not react aggressively, though a leathery ‘tongue’ licks along his arm, but ultimately allows him to move Y/N so that her head is lying in his lap. 

He doesn’t want to risk moving her bodily just yet.

Erik allowed himself to remember when she’d throw her head back with laughter, shoulders shaking as he hollered at the TV while watching If Loving You is Wrong reruns with her. He remembers how her nose scrunches up and she snickered, describing the childhood crushes and the awkward first kiss. 

Mouth opening, the words come surprisingly easy, “You told me that there ain’t been one boyfriend you had that all of your siblings and cousin Breanna could agree was good enough for you. Whether it was the way he walked or talked, or somethin’ else, they always clowned on the dude and eventually drove him away.”

The Black Mercy chuffed and a vine unwrapped itself from Y/N/s throat. Erik figures that means it’s working. 

“An’ you made excuses for why you couldn’t or shouldn’t date. It was no point in bringing the guy to meet a family member, let alone all of’em, because it just ended the same way. So you focused on yo hustle instead. You went to work an’ back to the apartment, that’s it.”

The vines are rapidly unwinding from her torso, shrinking down.

“If you wake up an’ look me in the eyes, I’ll tell you a secret. Something I ain’t tell you about the first time we met. What made me want to holla atchu asap.”

Y/N’s eyelids are fluttering and Erik’s so focused on her face that he nearly misses the warning, dodging to the side as T’Challa shouted something indistinct, then lashed out with his claws at the Black Mercy which had revealed a ‘mouth’ with rows and rows of jagged teeth, as his hit landed, an unsettling screech-roar escaped. Rolling with Y/N tucked against his chest, heart beat pounding, he glanced down to see that she’s starting to wake up. Glancing up again when that eerie screech-roar resounded through the house, increasing in higher pitch and frequency as Shuri used her gauntlets to burn the devil plant. 

“Nn...” Using her fist, she rubbed at her eye. 

“...T’ hell is that smell? Did you fart while I was sleeping?” 

Almost against his will, Erik laughed, genuinely amused. “Yep, sho did.” 

Smacking his right pec, Y/N’s mouth twisted up. “Nigga, you nasty! What I tell you ‘bout that shit?! Light an incense or somethin’!” Hand covering her nose, her head turned and she goggled as she caught sight of T’Challa and Shuri. Again, she smacked his chest. 

“You let me sleep while yo family was here! Oooh, I can’t believe you!” Then she sent him the look of death. 

“Ay, you was tired. I know the consequences of not letting you get yo rest. The dragon comes out.” 

“N’Jadaka...” T’Challa sent him a scolding look, trying to convey with him to stop teasing and tell the truth. 

“Forreal, one look at her when she heated I ain’t let her get the last chicken wing or something equally petty and I turn to stone.” 

“That’s a Basilisk power.” Shuri and Y/N said at the same time. 

“Jinx!” The princess crowed. 

“You read Harry Potter?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, sounding impressed. 

Shuri snorted. “The movies are horrible.” 

Throwing her hands up and whooping, she stuck her tongue out. “Someone in yo family has taste!” Y/N declared. “He likes the movies.” She added, voice disgusted. 

“But those books are a classic. A bit racist, but it was written by a colonizer, so...”

Y/N all but died. 

Cupping his hands over his mouth, “Nerds~” Erik said laughingly. 

Eventually, later that night, Y/N does remember that she hadn’t just ‘fallen asleep’ and has a mini freak out, only relaxing when reassured repeatedly that there aren’t many, if any, Black Mercy fields left to speak of.

“So, in the future if you ever decide to visit Wakanda, there won’t be any greenery that is harmful to you except the normal plants you should avoid, or what might cause an allergic reaction.” Shuri promised, sounding thoughtful, twirling a forkful of spaghetti. “Wait, do either of you have allergies?”

“Nah.” Erik is busy with his plate, using the homemade garlic bread to swipe up the spaghetti sauce, lifting it to his mouth and finishing it off with two big bites, chewing. 

“Me either.” Y/N added, cutting another piece of garlic bread and putting it on his plate, which he accepted without a thought, mouthful, he made a ‘it’s good’ type of hand gesture. “Is y’all sure I can visit? I mean, I don’t want to cause any issue.”

“There should not be because I’m permitting you to do so.” T’Challa stated, reiterating the fact that he is king and his word is law without explicitly saying so, there’s a nonverbal assurance that if there’s an issue, to bring it him, that you picked up on. “This is delicious, by the way.” Shuri passed him the bowl which had a mix of bbq and fried chicken, using the fork, he added two pieces of each onto his plate. “Did you add lemon to the sauce?”

“Family recipe.” Y/N replied, adding some extra spaghetti to her plate. “We don’t swap those ‘round here.” Not even glancing in Erik’s direction, she swatted his fork away from her plate, twirling the spaghetti around the utensil before lifting it to her lips. 

T’Challa nodded, accepting that tidbit of information for what it was, instead digging into his meal again. 

After dinner is finished and Erik did the dishes with his cousins helping (hindering, really, playing in the water), it’s time for them to go. Y/N surprised Shuri by giving her a hug though the younger girl is quick to hug back, and T’Challa earned a half hug and a quip to take it easy. 

The king joked that life would be boring if he did so. 

Y/N retreated to the bedroom first and Shuri already walked outside, a car ready for them in the parking lot. 

“One thing that’s been bothering me.” Erik spoke in a low tone. “That plant is only found in Wakanda, but it was addressed to Y/N and sent here. Who sent it? Was that even meant for her?”

T’Challa said nothing for a moment and then he sighed, seeming to be weighed down. “I only alerted the elders about Y/N’s existence after you told me that you proposed.” Erik’s features became thunderous and he held up a hand. “I know what you are going to say, but it is better that they remained in the loop. You have always been royalty, only recently, you’re an acknowledged royal, a part of the Golden Tribe like Shuri, Mama, and myself. Even if you do not bring her to Wakanda, if the two of you decide to expand your family, your child will not be denied. Also, by telling them of her, they cannot force an arranged marriage onto you.” 

“So whatchu sayin’ is that one of those snooty elders from the Tribes tryna take her out so I can what? Be a free man? Ha!” Jaw tensing, Erik looked at his cousin in the eye, daring him to lie to him, to omit more truths. 

T’Challa remained unruffled by his tone and attitude. “I’m saying that it is a possibility, one that I will be exploring extensively, but until I know for sure, I implore you exercise restraint.”

“If these holier than thou mufuckas tryna take the one good thing I’ve got going for me, the woman that I...” He paused, faltering. “That I love, then nah, fuck that. Restraint goes out the window and I’ma kill’em all. No second chances, no apologies. I’ma kill’em.” Even if that meant that he lost his ‘officially recognized’ title, then whatever, so be it. “Don’t play wit me, this ain’t a joke, nigga.” 

“I am doing my utmost to find the culprit.” T’Challa assured him. 

“Just...give me some time.”

“You can take all the time you need. Don’t mean I’ma wait before acting if you pussyfooting around and take too long.” Erik replied flatly. 

That statement chilled T’Challa to the bone because he looked exactly like he had when challenging him for the throne, when he declared that he’d spent his whole life waiting to kill him.

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

Yuletide Warnings

Hey look, it’s seasonal! How fun

 This was written as a gift for cowriter#1 a while back, who wanted me to like... use A Christmas Carol as a basis for something or other. Also with added music (and she still couldn’t recognise her own characters properly, like she told me that Teenagers song was the sound she had for their band? and she still got confused?)

 Anyway. Alluding to what might have been, had things not gone the way they did

could’ve been the superior AU ngl

#

  Jay sat back against the intricate webbing of rope and material that they’d strung up between the ropes of the foresail and half closed her eyes, right leg swinging down beside the figurehead below her. Upon her left rested a closed cup, delicately balanced on her knee with her hand only loosely clasping it. They were in warm waters, and thus she wore only her light linen jacket over her clothes, despite the setting sun to her side.

Adjusting to the ship’s motion was second nature at this point, an easy rhythm that was the backdrop to every part of their life at sea. With their birds calling overhead as they circled, the water lapping at the wooden sides beneath her, it was peaceful enough to doze off.

Which was near enough what Jay was doing. Turning her head slightly – to avoid the full glare of the sun – she yawned and settled herself more comfortably.

Something tugged, gently, at her hanging leg, and she shook it off.

“Back off, Soise,” she murmured.

The clawing came back, more insistent as it tugged at her trouser leg. As it brushed against her bare foot, it was cold and clammy… but not wet.

“Soise, I swear to–” Jay growled and, catching at her cup before it fell, leant forward to glare down at the culprit.

The creature clinging to the side of the ship – hanging from the figurehead by one hand, the other digging into the slats – was a very convincing human shape, and if she didn’t know Soise, she might have believed it.

But she did know Soise, and she knew that the bearer of that particular face was dead.

“Little bit macabre, Soise,” she said, sitting back.

The assumed player of the prank didn’t reply, and Jay wasted no more thought on it as she got comfortable once more.

The wind rattled up through the ropes, setting them all to thumping like drum beats against the side of the ship, against any piece of wood they could reach.

When Jay next opened her eyes, Sparrow – or Soise’s illusion of Sparrow, rather – stood before her, balanced on the bowsprit.

He stared down at her, and she stared up – and through – him. He was only passingly translucent, though there wasn’t much beyond him to see but the sky, softly clouding over. He was dressed in much the same clothes as he had always dressed in, though pink washed silver scales freckled his skin, and his hair seemed… less fluffy than it had been.

Clearly Soise’s idea of a joke, for she had pictures enough of Sparrow amongst her books for the zoroark to copy.

“What are you doing? Go bother someone else, Soise.”

“Ask me who I was.”

Jay hesitated at that, for the voice was undeniably Sparrow’s, but Soise had never met him to mimic his voice.

Deciding to humour her, for the moment, she asked the question told her.

“In life I was your partner guardian, Sparrow Feyar.”

“Sparrow never believed in all that.”

“And yet here I am.”

“Yeah, I’m fairly sure he didn’t believe in ghosts either. At least, not the human kind.”

“Trust in this, BlueJay Nightingale–”

How long had it been, since anyone had called her that!

“For I am the ghost of your partner guardian, Sparrow Feyar, and I have a message for you.” He raised his arms, and Jay caught sight of the chains about his wrists and forearms that ran back and down into the ocean.

“What’s with the chains?”

“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the illusion. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you?”

Jay tilted her head to examine it better. “Uhh little bit, ye–”

“Or would you know,” he continued, as if she hadn’t started to speak, “The weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, eight years ago. You have laboured on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!”

Jay frowned. “Is… it my life? Because boy has that been full since you died. Stands to reason I’d pick up more baggage.” This was too weird even for Soise. She didn’t go in for guilt trips, or… whatever this was.

“I cannot tell you what I would. A very little more is all permitted to me.” He spoke as if from a script, for this was not the Sparrow talking that Jay would know. “I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere.”

“Oh, you travel too, now?” Jay tilted her head. “There’s such a lot to see, isn’t there?”

“No rest, no peace. Incessant torture of remorse.”

Jay rolled her eyes. “Your failings have stayed with you, I see.”

“That is no light part of my penance,” said Sparrow, moaning. “I am here tonight to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Jay.”

“I don’t intend to die as you have. I may be guilty of many things, but a death in the dark will not be one of them.”

“You will be haunted,” resumed Sparrow, staring beyond her and through the ship, “By Three Spirits.”

Jay narrowed her eyes. “What kind of bullshit have themselves thought up now? I’ve already agreed to their ridiculous demands, so I can do without.”

“Without their visits,” said the ghost, “You cannot hope to shun the path I tread.” For emphasis, he rattled his scale chains. “Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls One.”

“At least there’s forewarning for this one.” Jay folded her arms.

Sparrow took a step back along the bowsprit. “Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate.”

“And of course they’re dragging this out.” Jay rolled her eyes. “Just come all at once, why don’t you?”

Sparrow ignored her biting words, backing up until he balanced upon the very tip of the wooden spar. “Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!”

And, stepping back again, he faded away into the sea with barely a splash.

Jay stared after him for a while, then shook her head and grasped a rope to swing around onto the deck of the ship, again snatching up her cup before it fell. Though there was liquid still within it, it had gone cold, and so she tossed it out over the side of the ship to spatter across the ocean’s surface.

In speaking with the ghost – or apparition, or whatever that may have been – the sky had fallen dark about them, and the lanterns had been lit to see their way by.

“Did I not let you all go home for yule?” Jay collared the crew member she found, though there should be none but her pokemon and Jayden about.

“Aye you did, cap’n.” He tugged his hat. “But I don’t exactly have a family to go back to, see, so I stayed on.”

Jay nodded slowly. “I… see. Search out Soise for me then, will you?”

He hesitated and nodded. “She’s up top, I think.” He gestured towards the rigging.

“Send her to the cabin.” Jay walked on, then stopped. “And join us yourself, for meals. You shouldn’t be eating alone.”

“Thank ‘ee, cap’n.” He tugged his hat and grinned, scrambling up the rigging.

#

Jay slept badly, as she had since leaving home near nine years before. Rather than lying sleepless in the bed she now shared with Jayden, she slipped out and up onto the deck.

Up on the bridge, Arc was sprawled on her side with the smaller of the pokemon pressed in amongst her fur. Ray was curled nearby, as was Yen and Lap.

Jayden’s birds were perched in amongst the ropes and railings, along with Gar’aq and Khoreo. Even Brith and Soise were out of sight, and thus the deck was silent.

They bobbed on the waves, sails reefed and anchor lowered, in the cool night air.

Jay stood before the wheel and turned, gazing up at the star-speckled sky. She knew these constellations – had charts mapping them – but they were in odd places, for the time of year. But then here – south of Unova, circling in quiet waters – was not usually where she spent this time.

Dressed in nothing more than her summer pyjamas – this latitude, this longitude were warmer even than Lavaridge, for the time of year – she rocked back on her heel and spun, almost – but not quite – dancing with herself. Her hair, tied back in a rough plait before bed, tangled loose in careful spirals as she rocked with the ship.

There were no bells to toll the hour out here, not even a ship’s bell to call the crew. The owners – the builders – of this ship had not seen fit to add one, despite their wish to have it historically accurate.

Historically accurate only in look above decks, for below was a pleasure ship pure and simple, with every modern convenience – or modern at the time of its building – known to man.

Yet even without there being a bell aboard, Jay distinctly heard the echoing gong of an ages old bell that rang out across the sea.

Turning, in her not-quite-dance, she stumbled and stepped back as she found herself face to face with an apparition.

Now this one Soise could also not have created without difficulty, for she had never seen the old elder of Lavaridge alive, and Jay certainly never kept pictures of him. Around Lavaridge, there were pictures that she might have studied, but not well enough to pick out every detail in his oddly smoothed face, the luvdisc shoal tattoo on his ankle – Jay wasn’t even sure if she’d known about that one.

He lifted his hand up to point at her, and the Groudon marks on the back of it were as clear as if he’d only just got them. “I knew you were trouble when you walked in,” he sang.

Jay stared at him. “That song came out after you died.”

“Now I’m lying in the cold hard ground!” He threw his head back. “Oh!”

Jay rolled her eyes and turned towards the steps. “We threw your body to the fire.”

“Jay.” The sudden seriousness in his soft voice had her stopped, almost midstep. “I am the ghost of yuletide past.”

“You would be the first of these visits.” Jay folded her arms as she turned. “The legendaries have a cruel humour t’be using your face.”

Mirember offered her his hand. “Walk with me.”

Jay narrowed her eyes and looked pointedly about the ship. “Not far t’be walking, is it?”

Mirember took hold of her arm and stepped to the edge of the ship.

Jay found herself pulled with him, this spirit far more physical than she would have thought. “See if you drop me in that I will not be impressed.”

“Bear but a touch of my hand there,” said Mirember, laying it upon Jay’s heart, “And you shall be upheld in more than this!”

Jay pulled back from him, frowning. “What the–”

In a blinking, they were standing knee deep in snow, surrounded by trees. It was snowing, thick and fast, around them.

“I… know this place.” Jay frowned, squinting through the snow as she held a hand up to shield her eyes. “This is–”

A young girl, dull blonde hair flying loose above her unbuttoned jacket, ran past them and farther into the forest.

Jay looked to Mirember and narrowed her eyes. “No. Really?”

Mirember gestured as if for her to follow the child.

Jay started to do so and then hesitated, shaking her head. “I remember fine enough what happens next.” She turned to the spirit. “Why do you show me this?”

Mirember, in life, was much given to enigma when it came to telling Jay anything, and it seemed death had not changed that. With a conjurer’s wave of his arm, their surroundings changed to stand them outside a house that Jay knew very well.

The snow fell thickly yet, but not enough to soften the slamming of the door as a teenager bulled out of the house and into the snow blanketed town.

“Jay! Jay, get back here!”

Jay blinked, recognising her mother as she had been years before. Fewer lines, fewer grey hairs. “This is the year before I left,” she said, as if Mirember needed an explanation. “We argued again, over my future.” She laughed, rubbing her arms. “As if either of us knew what would happen!”

When she looked again, they were in the temple and it was thick with light and warmth and people. They hovered in the rafters and looked down at the high altar, where the younger Jay stood with her flute, piping in the ceremony. In front was Alyss, her hair glittering red and green in celebration of the year’s end.

“I was terrified, standing there,” Jay said. “Didn’t have a clue why she would want me.” She glanced at Mirember again. “Are you going to tell me what all this is in aid of?”

Mirember gestured again, and the scenery changes to Lavaridge, where a huge fire burns in the middle of the town and people dance in a clearing made from snow.

Jay herself – she knows where to look for this one, this year wasn’t so very long ago – is sitting on the roof of the town hall, flute held in one hand as she watches the festivities below.

“You only join in grudgingly, do you not?” Mirember spoke, for the first time in what seems like an age. “This is not a celebration you enjoy.”

Jay wrinkled her nose. “I think you’re misinterpreting a little bit.” As she blinked, their location changed and she was shifting on the deck of her ship once more. Looking around, she snorted, rolling her eyes. “Of course.”

Mirember has disappeared, leaving her alone.

Stepping across to Arc’s pile, she settled down against the pokemon and closed her eyes.

#

The second night, Jay didn’t exactly bother trying to sleep. Jayden has guessed that there is something wrong afoot, but he doesn’t ask. That isn’t his way.

Their solitary deckhand – possibly fearful of the reputation built up around Jay (the NightGale, the traveller with no purpose, defeater of leagues, scourge of the eager pokémon trainer) – kept his head down and to his tasks.

It would be hopeless to explain, in any case. Maybe Brith would understand, but Jay knows this strange scenario to be entirely hers.

So it is that on the second night, she is waiting high in the ‘krow’s nest, leaning on her forearms and staring south into the black sky.

The sea has been empty, these past few days. There are islands to the south – she knows there are, they’re on the maps – but they are hard to find and she has met no one that has been to them.

Maybe there’s an air of discovery about the trip, because Jay likes to know what she can.

When the ghostly bell tolled out across the sea, Jay looked up and about for the next of the spirits.

Not in the ‘krow’s nest with her, nor – it appears – on the ship below.

She was almost to turning her head up to the sky – for ghosts, it seems, are not bound by physical laws and so could well appear from above – when a raucous bout of laughter sounded out right beside her, and she jumped near out of her skin.

When she landed, Jay was no longer on her ship but in the great town hall of Lavaridge, where a great feast was already in progress and the tree in the centre of the hall was almost bowed at the tip for the weight of its decorations. It looked to have been grown in the hall itself, too big for the door with its limbs all spread out.

“Looks like a fun time, right?” said the ghost from beside her, and Jay stared and stared again.

“What?” The ghost laughed, glancing down at herself as if to make sure her dress and cloak were still in place and properly gaudily decorated.

“You aren’t even dead!” said Jay to the spirit of her best friend.

“Yeah, odd that.” Joanna laughed again.

Jay stared in consternation at her, but upon receiving no further elaboration, sighed and shook her head. “Fine. What we here for?”

“Because you aren’t and it’s truly terrible!” Joanna flung her hands to the air. “Whatever were you thinking, running off to sea and leaving us behind?”

“I’ve been around Lavaridge too often these past years?” Jay shrugged. “It was time for a change.”

On the floor below a band had struck up, and Joanna – the real Joanna – was dancing with Freak as Alex watched on before being pulled in by Dot.

Jay smiled as she watched them. “I am glad that they are happy,” she said, spotting Venus sitting beside the cradle that no doubt held the young Nyx.

“You are glad they celebrate without you?”

“It’d be a rum deal if they only celebrated with me.” Jay frowned. “I’m rarely there.”

With the yowling of a cat – Jay recognised Venus, though the noise came from somewhere under Joanna’s crimson cloak – their surroundings changed once more.

Now they stood in the doorway to Jay’s own family home, where her sister was cuddled on the couch with a man that Jay only fleetingly recognised as her long-time boyfriend. Their parents were on the other couch, and the radio was on in the background to pipe yule tunes into the warmth of their home.

And yet – despite the decorations, and the company, and the warmth – all three that were related to Jay were despondent.

“If only she were to come home,” Joy said. “Or even a letter, to let us know how she was doing and that she was thinking of us.” She hesitated. “Or even – or even let us know where she is, so that we can send our gifts.”

Jay frowned, and turned to the ghost of her friend. “I sent them gifts, and a letter. A huge letter.” She thought back over the action. She was sure she had, anyway.

“Perhaps waylaid in the post, to the wrong address.” Joanna shrugged. “Better to deliver them by hand, don’t you think? Better to be there?”

“If you’re thinking to guilt trip me,” Jay said dryly, “You might want to try harder. I sent ‘em care of Alyss, since ‘Snowpoint Temple’ is passing hard to mistake for anywhere else.”

Joanna hesitated and stared at her.

The doorbell rang.

“See?” Jay smirked.

“Nope!” Joanna grabbed her arm. “No, nu-uh, nope! I’m busy showing you how terrible a friend you are!”

The room dissolved around them as Molly stood to get the door.

“Now, I have one last – oh there you are, Venus!” Joanna bent down to stroke the persian as she slunk out from underneath her cloak. “Wait – don’t you go anywhere, Jay! Don’t!”

Jay held up her hands. “It’s you that’s fading away.”

“Please, won’t you wait? Won’t you stay?” Joanna reached out for Jay, starting to sing. “At least until the sun goes down.”

Jay groaned. “Please just – put me back on my ship.”

Joanna sighed in disgust. “You are heartless.”

Jay smirked, and she was back on her ship.

#

When the last of the spirits came for her, Jay was in the main cabin, feet up on the table and a glass in her hand as she stared out the dark windows. It was the night before yule proper, and she was musing over the prospect of not actually doing anything for it.

Sesser was asleep on her perch in the corner, and Vulp was curled up in her lap.

She was thinking on these spirits, these visits, and wondering just what their purpose was. It was hardly clear through what they were showing her, but at least – at least there was only one left.

And perhaps then, she would like to think, she could get a good night’s sleep. But that was never going to happen.

Peculiarly childish giggles echoed around the cabin rather than the usual – usual! Was this something she was already so used to? – gonging bell and Jay looked up, peering about in the sudden gloom.

A figure appeared, wearing a worn dark blue trench coat and a peaked cap to shadow over their face.

Jay snorted. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,” she drawled, running a fingertip around the rim of her mug. “What can I do you for?”

The figure stepped nearer, and Jay frowned as she recognised the coat. It was dark blue, lightly patterned, and worn with scorch marks and ragged hems, salt stains and faded patches. The pockets were frayed, holes through in the corners.

And Jay knew it. “But – that’s mine! I lost that years ago!”

“We didn’t steal it!” The voice was not an adult’s, and didn’t come from under the hat but rather somewhere in the middle of the buttoned up coat.

Jay narrowed her eyes at the spirit. “Hm.”

“You’re missing the point.” The spirit stepped forward, and this time Jay noticed its unsteady tottering. “We have things to show you!”

Jay placed Vulp carefully on the table and swung to her feet. “Show me, then.”

“We don’t have enough time.” The spirit reached out and grabbed Jay’s arm, long coat sleeve getting in the way and flopping around.

The hand was child sized, barely big enough to fit over half Jay’s forearm. The power behind it was enough, though, and she stumbled forward as the ship broke apart and reformed into a darkened beach where cliffs loomed up above them.

A child, dusty brown skin and fly away black hair, ran across the beach, her face contorted in earnest concentration.

Jay, not knowing this child, stepped back as if to get out of her way, but the child ran straight through her anyway.

The spirit laughed. “You don’t exist like that here.”

Wings overhead has Jay looking up to see a harpy-like figure diving to catch the child.

Shrieks, a splash, then full blown laughter and giggles.

Jay turned again to the sea, seeing the harpy on its back, the child scooped up in its blue-feathered arms as the waves crashed around them.

“Sickening,” the spirit said, taking hold of Jay once more. “Truly sickening.”

Heavy, thumping beats reverberated about them to bright, strobing lights. They were surrounded by bodies, rubbing up against each other with no regard for personal space.

On the stage, front and centre, was a woman with flared, colour changing wings and a rat tail that flicked back and forth in time with the swaying of her hips.

Jay glanced at the spirit beside her as it raised her up over the crowds. “That’s never Phoe.”

“No, not your little phoenyx, raised from the ashes.” The spirit laughed.

“You’re never gonna fit in much kid,” the woman sang out. “But if you’re troubled and hurt, what you got under your shirt,” She runs her hands up her body, swaying from side to side as the crowd roared in delight, her wings strobing through hot, sensual red to an angrier colour, “Will make them pay for the things that they did!” She smirked, winking.

“Why… are we here?” Jay glanced at the spirit. “You can’t tell me there’s something here my actions have screwed up.”

Before she had quite finished speaking, the blue feathered harpy from the last scene swooped down from the rafters, tackling a person down from climbing onto the stage. Glittering pink crystals sharpened into knives fall from their jacket as they landed, the harpy on top.

“Ok, but who is that?”

“Whups, moving on!” The spirit laughed and grabbed her arm.

As the scene blurred again, Jay glanced at the tottering spirit and tugged her arm as if to free it.

The spirit tottered and then fell, the coat falling open to reveal–

“You have got to be kidding me.” Jay let her breath go in a dismissive, sharp gasp as two children fell free from the trench coat. “Skies above!”

The children – identical in every respect, including clothing and hair styles – looked up at her from their knees and grinned.

Jay shook her head. “The fuck.”

“You have to uphold your deal,” one of them said.

Jay rolled her eyes. “Is that all you’ve been wanting to tell me? Holy shit.”

“You’ve been hesitant! Nothing’s happening!” One of them stood, stamping her foot.

“I want to exist properly!” The other wailed.

Jay blinked and stared at them. “What?”

The two of them exchanged a look.

“Whups!” The other one laughed and grabbed her sister’s arm. “Time to go!”

“What?” Jay stared at them as they ran, dancing around each other and throwing acrobatic shapes.

“So long, farewell, auf wedersehen, goodbye!” they carolled, turning to wave once more. “Adieu, adieu, and do enjoy your Yu-el!”

The fogging cleared, and Jay was back in the cabin, standing. “What.”

Vulp whined, looking up from where she was curled up on the table.

Jay reached across and stroked her, scratching behind her ears. “It’s been a weird set of nights.”

[ask-super-good-advice]

Backasswards Fireteam

So, I scribbled out a story about a very, very dysfunctional fireteam for the Written in Light event, but I may or may not have exceeded the word limit by double, and since that is far too much content to edit out, I decided I might as well put it here... 

Why do I punch my foes like a Titan?  Why have I abandoned my knife?

It’s simple, really. My knife is evil.

But you wouldn’t tell by looking at it.  You might think it is a creepy knife, or has an odd theme, or just looks edgy, and you would be correct.  Never let it be said that I wasn’t a true Hunter, from my cape to my knife.  Once my Fireteam, Fireteam Green and Yellow, was assigned to the moon on blanket Hive-extermination tour, we all saw our opportunity.  In the great tradition of Guardians, we stick it to our enemies by decorating ourselves in the bones of our enemies.  For my Titan and Fireteam leader, Reggie-12, that meant dismembering Hive Knights to create a perfect set of chitin armor.  For our Awoken Warlock, Sara Kev Ro, it meant a (ugly) patchwork robe made from Hive Wizards’ robes.  For myself, it meant sowing thrall bones to myself to look like a spooky skeleton.  My team did not appreciate my flippant approach to such a sacred rite of Guardians, and I didn’t appreciate getting sent to the moon, so we were even.

After a few days, Sara approached me with a smirk on her face, and I thought she was ready to go at it again with another round of “who dresses better.”  Hint: the Hunter.  But no, she had her hands behind her back, and told me she had a peace offering.  Instead of admitting that Warlocks look tacky (which would have been the best peace offering), she handed me a new knife she had created herself, and it wasn’t like any other knife I had ever seen.

The blade resembled something of a Bowie knife with a meaty blade, and it shone with a stranger silver I didn’t recognize.  Upon further inspection, I noticed it had a unique pattern with streaks of a blueish-silver metal woven into the blade.

“It’s Hadium that I scrounged up from the shrines, and then I folded it with Spinmetal.  The Spinmetal lets it conduct Arc and also acts as a soft spine to keep it from being too brittle.  The Hadium edge is notoriously strong; Lord Shaxx even uses it.”  She explained, much to my shock.  When had she learned how to forge blades, and why? “I used my own Radiance for the heat and Reggie hammered it out for me with his Hammer of Sol.  Maintaining a steady heat without oversaturating it was difficult, but I think we managed.”  It made sense that Reggie would know how to forge weapons; he knew everything else about them.  Especially how to use them.

However, it wasn’t just the blade that was special; the handle also caught my eye.  It was made of some clear material, maybe plastic or acrylic, but incased within it was some grub-looking thing.  My eyes lingered on the creature.

“It’s a worm I cut out of a wizard.  I figured if I was going to make you a knife, I should use a knife to scavenge the materials. You know, adhere to the spirit of the weapon.”  

She had done well, and as much as it kills me to say it, I respected her a lot more from that day on. It certainly helped that knife was awesome.  

I didn’t realize it at first, but I think she may have created something Exotic.  That knife was nothing like I had ever seen before, and certainly not like anything I had ever used.  Not once did I ever sharpen it, but it felt as if it was sharper after each time I used it.  I went out of my way in combat to test the limits of my blade, only I found none. It was if the blade wanted to kill my enemies as badly I wanted to sink my blade into them.  For a Hunter, it was the perfect blade.

Because of that, I began to rely on the blade.  No, it was more than that; I used the blade as my first option in a fight.  How could I not?  It felt so natural, so powerful, and it sunk deeper and deeper into enemies with each day.  As I became more proficient with my blade, it became more proficient as well.  

I once snuck up on three Knights, thinking them easy prey for my newly-christened knife, Wretched Renderer.  Knights were big and bulky, making them easily susceptible to a knife stabbed in their joints.  If a Knight wielded a sword, I would duck under it easily and slip Wretched into its gut. If a Knight fired a boomer, I would disappear in the blast and reappear behind the Knight for an easy kill.  These Knights I assumed would be no different, but as I ambushed them I learned that these were no ordinary Knights.  These Knights were Exalted, and their blades hissed as they sliced the air.  These Knights had armor like I had never seen before.  These Knights were masters of their blades.  These Knights fell to my knife just as easily as a thrall, and they left me bored with the exchange.  I needed more.  I needed to kill more, to feel my blade bite down into their flesh and rend away what was there.  I needed to feel the power of my knife surging through the metal, through the handle, and into my hand.  

And so I did.  I lost track of how many I slew.  I ignored panicked calls from my team on the radio as I killed anything I came across.  Thralls were more than willing to oblige my bloodlust, but I wanted bigger and better prey.  Knights, Wizards, even Ogres.  I killed them all and I felt myself surge.  

When I came across four Ogres, I knew that I was outmatched, but it didn’t matter.  I would sink my knife into their flesh, consequences be damned.  I was a Guardian, after all; death was no obstacle. The Traveler had brought us back to kill things for it, didn’t it?  That was what I was going to do.

It was with a limp that I finished off the last Ogre.  Despite having been impaled, nothing would stop me and my blade.  As it died, I laid down to wait for my own death.  Blood loss was always so slow, and I really couldn’t be bothered to wait to respawn and begin my killing again; I needed to get back out there.  I could almost feel my knife screaming with displeasure at taking even a short break like this, even to die.  I had to get back out there faster.  With Wretched Renderer in my hand, I made a simple choice, a practical one: stab myself, die sooner, and resume my conquest.

Once upon a time, it would have been hard to convince my hands to push my own knife into my heart, but so far into the life of a Guardian?  The pain barely registered as I finished what the Ogres started.

Then I entered that place, the one that those Thanatonauts crave to be in.  I had been here a thousand times before, and I hated it.  I never spoke of what I saw, because the Warlocks would pry and never let it go, and I always wanted so desperately to not think of it.  Visions and emotions flash across your vision and everything is so confusing.  I usually instruct my Ghost to resurrect me as soon as possible; it’s not a place I enjoy being in.  

But this time?  This time it was different.  There were no visions, no emotions, nothing.  I simply…existed in nothing.  It was dark, and nothing else.  And then it didn’t end.  With no way to track time, I couldn’t be sure, but I felt certain that I had never been dead for this long.  Panic set in.  Had something gone wrong?  Why are the visions gone?  Why am I still here?  If it is possible to hyperventilate without having a body or a presence, then I did; I metaphorically curled into a ball and buried my head in my lap as I tried to hide from the nothingness around me.

When I did come out of it, Ghost said I had only been dead for 20 minutes before my team found me and forced enough Light into my Ghost to revive me.  Ghost was deathly silent, even as Sara handed me my knife back; she must have retrieved it from my previous body, and had even cleaned it of my blood.  I expected her to be worried about me, because I was very worried, but she looked…intrigued, more than anything.  She wore a smirk that made me uncomfortable.  

I didn’t miss the wary stare that my Ghost tossed towards that knife.

Once we were alone, I cornered my Ghost over what happened.  We weren’t in a Darkness zone, so a revive should have been easy.  It should have been a routine op; something wasn’t right.  

“I couldn’t.  There was a dark presence overwhelming me.”

“What presence?”

“Your knife.  I can’t even go near it now; I can feel Darkness radiating off of it.”

Normally, I wouldn’t overreact like this, but after perfecting death, to learn that you might screw something up is terrifying, not to mention how horrifying the silence was. I reached to my side and drew my knife, before chunking it at the nearby rock face.  It sunk in easily.  For all I cared, it could have been a fluke, or even a prank from my Ghost.  I don’t care.  I would give anything to get the visions and emotions of death back. Anything but that…that dark Void.

I haven’t picked up a knife since that day.  I don’t know why they hate me, but I refuse to try it again.  I won’t go back in the dark.

And so, I punch like a Titan.  Because I’m scared of my knife.

Why do I dirty my hands to use a Hunter’s knife?  Why abandon my books for a blade?

It’s simple, really. My knife is evil.  

I was never really interested by the Hive.  In fact, I would say I was disinterested in it.  The Vex?  Fun to think about, and even better debate material for Warlocks, but in the end it always proven a mental exercise, nothing more.  The Fallen?  A magnificent case study in what would happen if the Traveler left Earth, or if we failed to protect it.  The Cabal? Military strategy may not be my thing, but I can certainly recognize the knowledge to be inferred from their tactics. The Taken?  Paracausal entities that had been abducted and brainwashed, certainly fascinating if not terrifying.  The Hive, though?  They just bred with and killed themselves over and over.  Inbreeding and slaughter just weren’t my thing.

However, the Speaker sure seemed to think there was something interesting about the Hive, though, since he put an embargo on Warlocks (and other classes also, technically, but who else would he worry about) practicing Hive tactics.  Everyone knew about Toland, but I didn’t think that there was any reason to fear that what happened to him would happen to more Warlocks; I figured Toland was the exception, not the rule.  However, the Speaker’s war on Hive magic knowledge made me think otherwise.  

It was my original disinterest in the Hive that led the Speaker, and the Vanguard, to believe that I could be trusted with a tour on the moon.  More than a quick mission, this was a months-long operation where our Fireteam would destroy any gathered Hive we could find.  With Hive-curious Warlocks, they feared that such prolonged, unfettered access to Hive shrines would prove too tempting.  With me, I supposed they thought my apathy was a perk.

It was the perfect opportunity to investigate the Hive.  After all, I was only selected because they trusted I would not look into the Hive, and they had already discouraged doing so; it was only natural that their own actions would lead to me investigating the Hive.

My findings were, well, okay.  It was interesting, sure, but nothing that would have drove me mad.  Sword Logic certainly piqued my interest, but it wasn’t something I believed I could harness as a Guardian; after all, Shaxx had popularized the sword as a Guardian weapon, and there weren’t any Guardians reporting that their influence on the Darkness magnified or they could will a Throne World into existence.  As cool as that would be, it certainly would not be a practical means of flaunting death, seeing as we Guardians already have that skill perfected.

An idea came to my mind. The Hive don’t command the Darkness by themselves; they are beholden to their worms.  I was never foolish enough to think a Guardian should introduce worm larvae into themselves; but could proximity to a worm trick the system? Could I introduce a worm into, say, a knife?  Could a knife serve as a vessel, feeding a worm and growing in power as it sliced through enemies?

My plan became a reality as I carved out the worm from a Hive wizard.  I needed to seal it in a handle, but I let the tang of the blade touch the worm as I encased it all.  I didn’t want the worm to be able to directly influence the wielder, but I did want it to interact with the blade itself.  With my work finished, I gave it to Sven Freisonn, our resident Hunter.  It really was a peace offering, as it was potentially the greatest knife of all time, but it was also an experiment—a chance to observe without risking side effects to myself.  

When Sven couldn’t be revived by his Ghost, I knew something must have worked.  Surely, the worm had activated and the blade was growing in its own, sinister, Dark power.  Sven had let it feed for weeks, and as he chunked it away in horror I saw my opportunity. I retrieved the blade and tucked it under my robes.  

Surely, Sven’s failure at reviving was his own fault; what sort of idiot kills himself with his own blade? Sure, he may not have realized that his blade was growing Dark the same way Crota and Oryx’s swords did, but it was still his own fault.  As long as I didn’t kill myself with it, I would be fine.  

Whenever my team isn’t looking, or whenever I’m off fighting alone, I’ll bring out the blade.  So aptly named, Wretched Renderer really does slice deep into its enemies; Sword Logic truly does sharpen as it kills. When I first created the blade, I tested it on a Hive Wizard’s shield, the metal biting into it and barely scratching it.  Now, with the charge of thousands of Hive souls as tithe to its worm?  I decapitated an Exalted Wizard like it was nothing the other day.  

Subtly, I discarded my Praxic Order bond, and let Reggie-12 have my books on the Traveler, and the Light. I didn’t need them right now.  I had something better to study.

And so, I wield the blade of a Hunter.  Because it’s too powerful not to.

Why do I study the Light like a Warlock?  Why concern myself with such details?

It’s simple, really. My Fireteam is insane.

They think I’m stupid, I’m certain.  They think their Fireteam Leader is some dumb oaf, spouting on and on about the practicality of walls in defense and how to best bash in the skull of a Knight.  They think that I don’t see what they hide from the group.  

I do.  I see Sven struggle for his life in fights, doing everything to avoid dying that he can.  He doesn’t even use a knife anymore, preferring to stay far out of knife range. I know he’s scared of that place. I know why.  I saw through Sara’s attempt to make Sven a blade out of kindness. I know what she put in its handle. I saw how that blade hungered to kill. I know how she hides it under her robes. I see her slit throats with it when she thinks no one is looking.  

My Fireteam needs serious help, and as the only sane member left, not to mention their leader, it falls to me to do it.

But I don’t know how. A Hunter scared to death of death and a Warlock obsessed with Darkness, with her own ritualistic Hive knife? Some nights I just want a stiff drink, but instead I get a book.  With Sara not needing them at the moment, I turned to them in desperation.  Perhaps I could enlighten myself—a challenge for a Titan never before attempted.  Maybe these texts could teach me to strengthen Sven’s Light, to teach him how to never worry about not reviving again.  If anything could restore his confidence, it would have to be the Traveler’s gift, so I studied Sara’s books on the Traveler.  

And maybe I’ll stumble across something magnificent.  Maybe I would solve some great mystery, or at the very least find one.  Something that would pique Sara’s interest again, and get her to focus back where it is safe for her to.  It’s not something I ever thought I would be doing, but something has to be done.  I can barely read, yet I’m pouring over books like Notes and Theses on the Alteration of Astrophysics Due to Post-Traveler Paracausal Manipulation and Theories on Seeding of Vex Minds In Traveler-Terraformed Planetoids.  And those are just the titles I can pronounce.  Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.

I can’t let Fireteam Green and Yellow destroy itself, or worse.

And so, I study like a Warlock.  Because the stakes are too high not to.

[jey-chan]

The eves read, How to take care of your servamp for 1ts time eves. ch 1

Beta'd by @legendarygriffin  Thanks Mahi for doing it!

Mahiru was in the library that Misono had in his mansion and of course, he found the need to clean some part of it. That’s when he found a little book that appear to be a journal, the thing was old and had a strangle black ribbon like drawing. However, the most interesting thing was the title. In some old fashioned type writer letters - How to take care of your servamp for 1ts eves - was written.

“How to take care of your servamp? How old is this? And more importantly, who wrote it?” curious of why shush a thing was made he took it and read the sumary: If you aren’t an Eve don’t read this! And more importantly DO NOT TELL THE SERVAMPS ABOUT THIS! NEITER TO THEIR MINIONS. Ok now if you are an eve please read this and don’t say a word to the guys. It’s for their dignity. If you are ready to read this then I really hope, it will help you. Att. Our Little Bird.

Now that took his interest and so he opened the book and started to read it. Yellow pages met him and a really strangle mix of cute old fashioned letters and a very modern way of writing started telling him the message of that mysterious Our Little Bird person.

Hi! I’m someone that just wants to help you take care of yourself and your servamp. (You know that vampire that can become an animal but has some serious issues with itself. Yeah that person.) I lived with them for a while and I learned some things about them so knowing how bad it was for some eves to figure out the things they need to do to have a proper relationship, I have decide to do this. Here are all my theories and observations, please be careful and share the information. More importantly, if you find something more adequate then please pretty pretty please update this stupid book.

Okay that throws away the idea of this person being a long lost relative for the guys but… they lived with them so, what was and who was it? Probably the answer will be more ahead so he started Reading again.

Okay so first thing you need to know about a Servamp is what is his/her power is. All Servamps have one, and it’s part of them so you need to balance that.

For example, if your Servamp is Gluttony you need to give him some meals but at the same time you need to take care he does not eat more than necessary, You are his balance in conscience! If he does not let you eat you can always punch him in the face! (if it doesn’t work you can always be a traitor to him by killing a cake) He need to know you need to eat too! Scold him if it’s necessary but make your point clear! (Make sure to do that with his minions too. Some of them will help you).

If your servamp is Wrath then… sorry but you are sooo dead. She is the mom of the house and if you do something stupid you are going to be grounded for your life. Buuuut that doesn’t mean I do not have a solution! (or a theatrical one anyway I don’t have many ways of experiment it, I mean I usually are off trouble so yea, I hope this will help you) you need to make her remembered to take a breath and take it easy, once she is calmed things are going to be fine. (If you found another one, please put it here! I left some blanks pages in the end of this journal so you can put there the new information) But seriously she is nice, very very nice, don’t let the face scare you. She only wants to protect all of us and do the best for you, she may be a Little spooky but she is nice and is a lovely mother. Just make sure you don’t make her mad. She can be scary like all moms are when their angry, but she has the pluses to be a vampire and a Wolf soo… yeah, try to be a good guy.

Mahiru took that to heart. It was real, he may know her a Little but it’s true, she is really a good mother.

Jealousy is a Little shy like how you sometimes envied some thigs but don’t say anything about it and no one can call it. He is like that but is easy to made mad and play pranks in him so yeah he can become a powerful hurricane of deadly things if you don’t take care of what you do and you promise to him. But is a great guy! He may be a “I do not care what happen to you but silently I wish you the best of luck with some thigs and Im here to you but Im not going to tell you that because you are strong”  jaba daba dubi du type of guy. However, he is mature and usually he will talk to you if he like you or you are a person worthy of it. So if he says something to you don’t take it bad, he really care for you.

Mahiru didn’t know how to take that. He knows that Jeje is a little strange but it was a good guy so he will take this in count the next time he sees it.

Lust is the best girlfriend that is a guy that you can hope to have in all the time! He may be a person that like to show some skin (and you need to remember him HE DONT NEED TO DO THAT ALL THE TIME! ),  he is a good person too,  but sometimes he thinks that secrets are the safe way to keep someone’s mind safe. You need to tell him that not all humans are like that.  Confront him and make him tell you the truth, and try to make him feel better.  He always has a special spot for children, and is so sad for him when one chooses to leave this living Word.  So please, try to made him better when this time come, he is the more series and tactical brother, always have a wise words and know how to take care of others but never to himself so please take care of him!

That was true. Mahiru know that Lily was just like that and sometimes he prefers to deal with the problems with no sharing them, he need to talk to Misono about this. “oh Tetsu’s is next”

Pride is… prideful. He is the only one in this strange family that acts like a real vampire (or at least the one the Dracula story tell us). He is one of the best people around here, it’s always good to know what to say to make you think and do the right choose, he prefers to try and correct his siblings and more than one occasion it had done some nasty things in name of the pride. So if he is your servamp you need to remember him that something is more important your dignity or your family above pride, you need to make him see the pride in little thigs that no one seems to care, that’s the balance you need to make for him.

Mahiru was speechless, Old Child doing bad stuff for pride. Na, that’s have to be a lie, right? But… yeah sometimes pride made you do stupid thigs… he need to pass the tip to Tetsu.

Greed. Man, this one is just… I don’t know how to describe it, but he is a good guy only that he… well he can be in pain sometimes. And his need of greed blinds him of some important stuff, he is an artist so you need to remember to look around him sometimes, and if that means doing it in a punch way then do it. Do not hesitate and do it. (You have all my permission to kick him in the ass if its necessary, if does not work you can always tell Mother, she will make sure to put some sense in him) anyway your duty is to make him see that not all the gold in the world is a material thing. That he need to be greedy in the emotion land, that sometimes it’s better to let it go than to have it and made it useless.

That… it was perfect for that extroverted vampire. In addition, He need to tell Licht that this person gave him permission to do some kicking sense to his vampire.

Sloth without doubt is the one that needs more balance, and more than balance he need something that help him to not sleep his problems away. He is the most silent and caring guy you will ever meet.  He is the shy guy that complains about everything, but the first to run to protect you if you need it. He had made some bad choices in order to protect us all but sometimes his siblings don’t see it that way, and critique him, he needs a balance that remind him that you can do things at your own time but there will be times you will need to stop being lazy and work your way out. However, please if he is your servamp.  Take care for him, okay? He is the one that needs it the most. And personally he is the one that that will help you in his one way.

That… that made Mahiru stop. It was so true. Kuro was the one that needed it the most, he was the one that always carried the consequences of the bad things he and his family did, he needed more support than nothing, but he was better now. He helped more and more, and is in peace with himself, he doesn’t try to sleep away more of the time now so, in a way he felt he may have made this person have a breath form worry over him. Mahiru did not know this person. He doesn’t know if was a mage or if it was a vampire, or a werewolf, but he had the feeling that it was not more alive. And that their soul was in a more peaceful rest because of the way kuro and the rest of the servamps was healing.

“Mahiru? Oi you are here. Bastard-chan want you to see something in the garden. What a pain, he could have come to find yo- What is that?”

The voice of his partner made him close the journal and try to hidden it. “K-Kuro?! What are you doing here? I oh this is nothing it’s only an old novel I found here and I was so into it that well I think I will ask Misono to borrow it?” He really wanted to fulfil the wishes of this Our Little Bird person, and it was more than sure that if the lion saw it, he would create a bad reaction and reawaken some pain that he had or had not forgotten. The blunette did not put much importance in the thing. He knows that Mahiru was hiding something but he will wait for him to tell him what it is.

“Can’t deal, common bastard-chan is waiting”

“Don’t call him that!”

“what a pain” Mahiru signed, he knows that he knows about the lie, but this is was something he prefers to discus with the eves alone. It may not like it, but it was for the best and… hopefully with this book they will know more about their parent’s and help them when they need it the most. Oh and add what a servamp and an Eve its, section to the book. 

 The same with the lead.

Hope you enjoy it! and special thanks to @angel-of-music-hyde-no-longer @tina-nightray @just-servamp-trash and @legendarygriffin 

[toreencapsicle]

Tony Stark being drunk and pranking the other Avengers? Are you into Avengers??

HOOH boy! Been  a whilesince I wrote something Avengers related and all of the Avengersstuff I did, I didn’t upload (Except for my christmas one two yearsago) WELP Sorry if this is OOC! It’s less pranking and more Tony“playing” with them though.

I’ll base this a bitmore around the Cartoon „Avengers Assemble“ (though I never gotto watch the latest season) and youknow everyone is happyand well with each otherjust LET ME BE HAPPY OKAY

(Loki, Pietro (why the fuck not I love him okay) and Bucky are there aswell)

Usually when Tony wasdrunk, he tried to hide it because he was depressed. He would mostlysit in his room or lab, not allowing anyone in to let him grieve andsulk, beating himself mentally up for something he, at least in hisopinion, did wrong.

Halloween though…oh boy,let me tell you about Halloween:

Everyone gathered up inthe commons/living room to sit down and have a movie marathon, snacksand booze set up for the evening. After they watched a few movies,they decided to just talk, maybe play a few stupid games and drinktogether. Of course someone had to try to stay sober, since kidsloved to go to the Tower for Trick-or-Treating. They knew that theAvengers had the best candy to give and it was an unspoken rule forthe young girls and boys, that every kid that knew what was good, HADto go to the Tower at least once. In the end it was Steve and Thorwho took care of that, since they didn’t really get drunk anyways.Bucky could have done it too, but he said he didn’t feel tocomfortable with doing that this evening.

Loki, who was forced tostay at the Tower for a long time by now because Thor was supposed tolook over him, seemed to be bored, sitting at the edge of the couchand ignoring the others invitations to say something and toparticipate in all those little, silly games they played.

There was a point thatnight, where it actually started to get interesting in his opinionthough.

He was quite surprised howmuch of a prankster Stark could be when he’s happy-drunk.

It started when Pietrosuggested to play a round of “Fuck-Marry-Kill”, just for fun.When Clint turned to Tony, who already had several glasses to drink,and said:”Scott, Steve and Me”, Tony answered like this:”okay-okay. Listen. I’d kill Scott, he’s not here so he can’t here meanyways. I just…I’d kill him. Marry? Pf, guess that’d be Cap then.He seems like AA+ husband material, at least in a lot of ways. Guessthat leaves you for fucking. Knowing how fast you shoot, it’d be overquickly~”

That actually left Lokiwith a little smirk, holding back a low chuckle as he kept observingthe situation more interested now. What he didn’t like though,was when Tony turned his face to him and said:”Thor, Pietro andBucky.”Loki simply scoffed, shaking his head and refusing toanswer this. Why should he take place in such a silly game anyways?

After they played“Fuck-Marry-Kill” for a while, Bucky got up and quietly left theroom. Everyone thought that it would be too much for him and that heneeds time for himself. When he came back with a black box in hishand, everyone got curious. He put the box down and “Cards AgainstHumanity” was written on it in bold, white letters. Fuck yes, whendid he even get that? Nobody dared to asked and they just got thecards out. Again, they asked Loki if he’d like to join, but herefused.

There were two things thatTony knew: Steve was, even though he couldn’t really get drunk, atleast a bit tipsy.

Second, when Steve is toorelaxed and comfortable, he’s easy to read.

Steve actually had quite agood humor for that game, punching out some of the best lines and hekept collecting cards, hoarding them like a dragon his treasures.Tony decided that can’t stay like this, so everytime it was his turnto be the Czar, he hovered his hands over the different cards,peeking over at Steve to see his reaction. When he saw Steve’s facecurling up in a smile, he acted like he really would pick the cardhis hand was hovering over, before grabbing the one right next to itand laughing at Steve’s horrified look of betrayal. After the thirdtime it got obvious that he’s doing that on purpose and Cap was donewith it, especially after Loki laughed at him.Natasha sensed itlong ago and, before everything could actually get out of hand, shesuggested to play “Truth or Dare”.

Nobody expected it , butBruce actually was more likely to pick “Dare”, since he was morescared of the questions that might could hit him. And of course, Tonyused this to amuse himself more than once. “Put on aTutu”“Smash a banana with your bare hand, yelling “HulkSmash”

“Put your finger in yournose and keep it there until it’s your turn again”

Those were just a few ofthings that Tony made him do. And Banner, of course, hated it.Loki though, was only evenmore amused than before, enjoying the show.

What he, again, didn’tlike, was when Clint dared to pull him in for a round and askhim:”Did you ever have sex with a horse?”By his father, youwant to give someone a present for once and all you get for it isjudgment. He didn’t deserve this.

One after another, Tonystarted to prank each of them, putting them in odd or uncomfortablesituations or throwing stupid jokes at their heads. And even thoughit often was…well, already getting quite harsh, no one felt toobothered in the end. Not even when he beat everyones asses atMonopoly.

The thing that made itbearable was, that hearing him laugh out so loudly and with all ofhis heart was just so rare and he deserved to have fun.

The evening ended withTony throwing an empty packaging of Skip-Bo into Loki’s face fortrying to cheat.

[mishamoonberry]

Onmyouji AU

you would (always be by my side) CH. 1 - AO3/FFN

This AU is inspired by Shounen Onmyouji and some spirit AUs in the Naruto fandom.

This is also written for the Kakasaku Month 2017 Week One – Myth/Fairytale AU (and can touch the yukata prompt too tbh bc feudal eraaaaaa). Please do check out other KS Month works by other people on tumblr and AO3/FFN (they're tagged usually so it's easier to find them!) and give them the feedback they deserve! Make this month enjoyable for all of us KS shippers!

Okay, enjoy reading!

They say there exists a spirit that guards the town’s oldest and most beautiful cherry tree.

They say there exists a cherry tree spirit that watches over the people living in town, remembering their names and their deeds.

They say, the spirit is lonely.

XXX

“You have the demon’s eye,” is the first word she says to him, full of wonder and curiosity. The man blinks. Looking left and right and finding nothing, he looks up. On top of a large cherry blossom tree in the middle of the district, on the particularly sturdy branch, sits a woman wrapped in a white kimono with pink red floral patterns. Her hair is pink, reaching her waist and decorated with a simple sakura kanzashi. Her hair is parted in the middle, showing her forehead decorated with a strange purple diamond shaped tattoo.

If Kakashi doesn’t see the ethereal and mystical glow that seems to surround her, he’ll think of her as a random woman too bored with life that she decides to take tree climbing as a hobby.

But no, he recognizes that aura.

She’s a spirit.

And Kakashi is willing to bet his left ass cheek that she’s the spirit of the tree she’s currently sitting on. Spirits—the friendly ones anyway—don’t like to mess with other spirits’ territories after all.

Kakashi stares at her, left eye closed and expression blank, choosing not to answer her simple statement of his ‘demonic’ eye.

It’s not like she’s wrong.

He’s an Onmyouji, one of the practitioners of the Onmyoudo. Basically, he’s one of the specialists in magic, spells and divination. Onmyouji are known to be able to protect other people from evil spirits, and although not all of them may have the sixth sense, Onmyouji are trusted to protect the capital and the people inside it.

One of the largest clan known for their strong onmyouji is the Uchiha Clan. While the civilians simply think that they are blessed with a strong sixth sense, it is merely an excuse to hide the fact that they are cursed.

The tale—probably true or not, although many spirits claim it is true—said that it started with the ancestor, named Indra, who had an actual sixth sense and fucked up real bad during a quest in a mountain, angering the mountain God and thus him and his kin are forever cursed with the Sharingan, the red eyes that enable them to see and feel the spiritual world around them.

It’s perhaps a blessing for those who want to become an Onmyouji. But becoming an onmyouji requires both dedication and talent, not just an uncannily strong sixth sense.

Also it explains why civilian Uchihas are often very skittish when they are out of their warded homes. The spirits are everywhere, whether major or minor, tame or evil, little ones that like to prank or big ones that cause destructions, or ones that are simply bored.

Just like the spirit who is staring at him right now.

“Are you an onmyouji?” She asks, titling her head. “You don’t look like an Uchiha, their aura feels different. Why do you have the demon’s eye?”

“I,” Kakashi drawls, “have no reason to answer that.”

It is her turn to blink.

“Why not?” She presses on, then, “it’s not like I have anyone to tell anything to. You do realize I’m this tree’s spirit, right?”

“I have no interest to tell you anything,” the silver haired man continues pleasantly, smiling a sweet smile so fake his teeth will rot if he keeps it up much longer, “now if you would excuse me.”

“What?” Kakashi ignores her confusion, humming as loud as he can while he speed walks away. He doesn’t want to deal with a nosy spirit, no matter how pretty she is. “Hey!” The spirit calls, indignant. “Where are you going? I’m not finished talking to you!”

She is left ignored.

Xx

“You’re such a rude human.”

Kakashi jolts from his seat on the porch of the Onmyoudo’s dorm, turning around with frantic heartbeats to find the spirit from a few days before floating there, arms positioned on her hips in the typical scolding manner.

“Ha…” the Hatake breathes out, bewildered. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you bound to that tree?”

The spirit has the gall to roll her eyes and scoff. “Don’t mistake me for a cursed spirit, human, I am free to wander as long as I do not bother the Gods.”

“You are…” He trails off, gesturing with his hands, “…bothering me, you know.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Are you a God?”

“…No…”

“Then I can bother you as much as I please,” she concludes pleasantly, lips quirking up in triumph. Though Kakashi can’t understand what is so very good about bothering a non-Uchiha with the Uchiha demon’s eye, the eye that—contrary to expectations—he did not want. If his best friend could rise back from the dead and take back his eye, Kakashi will give it back happily. The Hatake Clan has had members with sixth sense before, Kakashi included. He doesn’t really need the Sharingan other than that it makes his sense stronger than ever.

Seriously, though, what the hell. He doesn’t understand the spirit’s motivation for even one bit. What is it that she wants from him? She is, as she says so herself, a simple cherry blossom tree spirit; the kind of spirit that causes no prank or malice to other creatures, the kind of spirit that is free and probably loved by everyone.

There is absolutely no reason for her to bother him.

He says at much.

“Well, you can see me, so I have a reason to bother you, now!” She counters, her smile showing her teeth.

Kakashi twitches.

“Repel,” he says, muttering out strings of spells. The spirit jerks, then, looking panicked.

“No, wait!”

It’s too bad that Kakashi is having none of that.

The spirit is forcibly thrown out of the area, and all is peaceful for the Hatake once more.

XX

“You,” comes a snarl from behind him, and Kakashi sighs behind his book, “are very rude.”

“The rude one is you, you know,” he doesn’t take his eye off of his book, “you’re the one who bother me.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can just repel me! I landed thirty kilometers away from my tree, you asshole! If I had landed on an unfriendly spirit’s territory, I’d be dead.”

“Oops,” he says, thoroughly unrepentant, and finds delight in how the spirit seems to try to withhold her furious shriek. Minutes seem to pass afterwards, with the spirit staring at him intently and Kakashi being very content in ignoring her existence altogether. Who knows, maybe she’ll disappear if he ignores her long enough.

Probably not.

“Why are you so against in talking to me anyway?” She says, then, “your life is so boring. You only study, train, read that porn of yours, and patrol. Isn’t it nice to have somebody talking to you?”

Kakashi doesn’t answer, simply flipping the page of his book—and it’s not porn, thank you very much! It’s romance, the spirit must be quite dumb not to recognize romance—and continues on ignoring her.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Junko is being very loud in this scene, he’s afraid Akiko next door will be able to listen in to their—er… nightly activities.

“Hey… Hey!”

…No matter what people says, he really is reading this for the romance.

“Hey, don’t ignore me! Hey!”

…Really. It’s the romance, not the porn.

“Ugh, you’re unbelievable! Hey! I just wanna talk!”

Well, the sex scenes are definitely a plus, he thinks, and also the insight about an onmyouji’s life is very detailed here. As much as he’d expect from the Legendary Traveling Onmyouji Jiraiya. Nevertheless, Junko is truly a beauty, although Jiraiya could have added more description about her face and expression rather than her bulbous—

“…If you don’t answer me, I’ll throw that book into the pond.”

Kakashi’s finger twitches.

She doesn’t seem to notice.

That’s good, because if she actually does according to her threat he’ll not only have her repelled, he’ll have her bound to the tree forever.

“…Hey, hey, come on. Talk to me? Please?”

…Where was he again? Oh, yes, Junko is really a beauty. He wonders if Jiraiya got this inspiration from somewhere. Not Tsunade, because she’s obviously the model for Akiko, whose description could fill in a whole page. Perhaps from some of the women he met on the streets? Or a spirit? Though the thought of seeing a spirit and using her as a romance novel material is a bit—

“Hey, I’m sorry if I was rude but it’s rare for people to be able to see me that are not the Uchiha and I just want to have someone to talk to, you know? The Uchihas have sticks up their butts and they are not good conversationalist, so I just thought you can be a nice person to chat with! That’s all, really! I don’t have any malicious intent, I promise.”

She could’ve talked to some other spirits, why is she so keen on talking to humans? And the Uchiha? Only a few of the Uchihas are as non-Uchiha as they can be; case in point, his dead best friend and a little bugger called Shisui who cracked his head a few days ago because he was lured to the cliff near Naka River by a mononoke called Danzo. It was a wonder he’s still alive.

Ah, why is he even focusing on what she’s saying? It’s better if he just go back to his book, truly.

“…Are you going to continue on ignoring me?”

Well it’s not like he ever wants to talk to her in the first place.

“…”

Has she left?

“I’m just…”

…Nope. Nevermind. If she’s going to ramble again, he’ll just go back to his book, easy peasy. He’s done this ignoring thing since Obito and Rin died, he can manage this, no matter if this is a spirit, not a human and certainly not Gai (although he can never seem to manage to ignore Gai, but he digresses).

And then, she says—

“…It’s lonely, you know?”

The whisper is like a fluttering wind, and probably is not meant to be heard by him. Despite himself, he can’t help but to be intrigued, and thus he finally looks up from his book to look at the spirit properly.

But she’s already gone, leaving the space she previously floated around somehow empty and achingly lonely.

XXX

For the next few days after that, there is no nosy cherry tree spirit trying to talk to him.

However, ‘nosy loud spirit’ seems to have upgraded into ‘nosy stalker spirit’ because she’s been following him around for days. The only places she leaves him alone are the Onmyoudo’s dorm and the Hatake Clan’s compound, in which it’s probably because the latter is warded against unfamiliar spirits.

He’s not even kidding. The pink haired spirit is always at least five meters away from him, peeking from behind the tree or wall or window or anything, looking at him with a pout and that sad kicked puppy look on her face…

…He likes puppies—has like eight of them but shhh—and that look on her face is just unfair.

And so, Kakashi finally relents. He sighs, staring balefully at the spirit that stares back at him with both hope and ferocity that could’ve made a lesser man melt, and motions her to get closer.

“What do you want from me?” He asks, because surely to be persistent, this spirit—however non malicious she may be—must want something from him. He’s had some spirits chasing after him so they can eat the Sharingan, and he wonders if such a pure spirit such as hers would also think of Sharingan as a delicious meal…

The spirit lands in front of him, an almost frown forming on her lips. “I just want to talk,” she says, and when Kakashi raises as a disbelieving eyebrow, she presses on. “I’m serious! The city has been boring for quite awhile and while I can wander, I can’t leave the city lest the tree dies and then I’ll die, talking to small spirits gets boring after a decade and, well, I miss talking to a human.”

Kakashi’s interest is piqued, and he asks, “you’ve talked to a human before?”

“A little boy, this little Uchiha tyke,” a soft and undeniably fond smile is present, and Kakashi figures the boy must have left quite the impression on her. For a spirit that says the Uchihas have sticks up their butts, she seems to be quite fond of this Uchiha. “I haven’t seen him for more than fifteen years, I presume; since he had to move to a neighboring city for Onmyoudo practices.” Then her eyes turn sad, as she whispers, “I think he’s dead.”

“Maa,” Kakashi drawls, “that’s mean of you to think so.” Very rarely Uchihas die out of town, mainly because they prefer doing jobs for this town that is already big enough as it is, other because when they’re taken to other towns, they’re more than capable to protect themselves.

Accidents can still happen though.

(That, or a reckless teammate that ultimately brings your demise).

(Kakashi restrains himself from touching his left eye).

“I’m serious!” She exclaims, sounding offended, “he didn’t go back with the rest of the group that left with him. And the Uchiha did a funeral afterwards; I can’t see the tombstone to make sure of it because the place is warded!” And then, softer, “he promised to come back. Obito never broke his promise.”

Kakashi very nearly bites his tongue off.

“What?” He almost demands, staring at her wide eyed.

“What?” She parrots, blinking. “I said he didn’t come back.”

“You said Obito,” he whispers, jaw trembling. It couldn’t be—

“Yes,” she confirms, “Uchiha Obito,” her expression clears and she lights up, looking hopeful. “You know him? Have you seen him anywhere? Is he well?”

Kakashi doesn’t answer. He isn’t able to. Here in front of him is a spirit who knew of Obito, his (dead dead deadeaddead—) best friend, the one who gave him this eye she seems to be interested in. She doesn’t seem to realize that the eye in his left eye socket belonged to Obito; or perhaps she unconsciously does, which explains her efforts in getting close to him.

Spirits are, after all, sensitive by nature and when they cling to something they deem precious, they will always cling onto it. The only reason she probably allowed Obito to leave the town is mostlikely that she’s not a malicious spirit and has quite the understanding of responsibilities an Onmyouji has.

She belongs to the oldest cherry tree in town; he’s not surprised if she knows some stuffs.

But—

But she doesn’t know of this. She doesn’t. Because Obito never returned and the Uchiha grounds are fucking warded from bottom to high ground and not even a non-malicious spirit can get close; only gods and their blessings may touch upon the Uchiha grounds. She has no way to know and she looks so excited, so happy and—

Has she been waiting for Obito this whole time?

The spirit, probably seeing his deafening silence, lets her excitement fall. She watches his expression, as he seemingly opens his mouth behind his mask and closes it again, at loss on how to reply.

Oh.

Oh.

Her eyebrows furrow, and with a downcast expression, she asks the question she fears the answer of.

(But she knows the answer already, doesn’t she?)

(Because Obito never broke his promise).

(And Obito never returned despite his promise).

“He’s dead, isn’t she?” She whispers, eyes watching the silver haired Onmyouji’s every move, and when the man flinches as if struck, she knows her worst fear has come true—has been true for the past decade.

She closes her eyes.

(I’ll be back, Sakura, he said with a wide smile. He looked manlier than the scrawny little kid that long time ago scuffled toward her tree to ask her to be his friend).

(I heard the neighbor town has these pretty kanzashi on sale, so I’ll buy you one, he promised, a hand grasping her own. With a teasing smile, he said, and then you can finally replace the one I bought for you long ago).

(I’ll be back).

(I promise).

He never comes back.

XXX

Is that hints of past ObiSaku? It is. I am a multishipper, I ship Sakura with a lot of people.

I apologize for the lack of Kakasaku in this chapter, but it will happen next chapter, I promise!

This story will be short, probably only having three or four chapters before it’s completed. I hope you can enjoy the ride as much as I do.

Review please!