#might start taking commissions over the summer. how do we like this idea

[hubblespacemission]

secretly used a different pencil than i normally do

[cinnaminsvga]

Sweeter than Strawberries | Jungkook

→ summary: at euphoria bakery, seasonal changes also bring seasonal menu items. when you find out that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake was phased out after the end of summer, it takes only one puppy eyed look from you for jeon jungkook to make it for you anyway—just don’t tell his boss about it, alright?

→ genre: bakery!au, s2l, fluff → warnings: none unless you count the fact that i’m writing shy!jungkook again :^D, we love mutual pining in this house ex dee → words: 4.5K → a/n: this was commissioned by @ihatemathanal​!! i was super stoked to write this bc it’s really cute and sometimes it’s nice to just write happy fluffy things every once in a while (aka zee is turning into a fluff writer jfc) it got a lil longer than it was supposed to, but that’s bc i got carried away lol anyway i hope you guys enjoy!! (ps: this also works for the bgw bingo so... tyg for s2l fics!! let’s get it!!)

For the most part, the beginning of autumn is usually your favorite time of the year. When the tree leaves begin to yellow and the air gains a significantly colder bite, this signifies the end of pit stains and sweaty thighs and the start of sweater paws and chapped lips. Above all, you are most excited, of course, for an excuse to gorge yourself on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, paired with delicious mountains of warm gooey brownies.

For the most part, these are all things that often get you excited for the coming chill. What you do not think to remember, however, is that while these seasonal changes bring more good than bad, there still remains a little snag: a small oversight, if you will. As businesses all over the world begin the annual transition to the colder months, so does your favorite bakery across the street from your university. After all, summer ingredients grow scarcer as the year nears its end, so it’s understandable for bakeries to switch up their menu to keep up with both the supply and demand.

What does any of this have to do with anything? Well, long story short—

Your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake is about to get phased out. No, scratch that—it’s already been phased out, right from under your very nose, no less!

You shouldn’t have been surprised, really. You have always known it was a specialty drink; your best friend had even been the one to introduce it to you just near the end of your summer classes:

“This is Euphoria Bakery,” Namjoon had said with a smile, waving cheerily at the two boys manning the till. You heard him chuckle in amusement when your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, staring longingly at the sweet treats and baked goods lining the display case.

Namjoon had stolen your attention away, however, when he pointed to the chalkboard menu on the wall. As it turned out, the bakery also doubled as a cafe, serving the usual coffees and teas while also making the occasional specialty drink for different seasons or holidays. The chalkboard was decorated beautifully, the menu items written out in neat cursive with tiny little doodles littering its margins. On one of the boards, there was a new drink item being advertised in bold pink letters—a great summer treat!—or so it said.

“Jungkook-ssi, can you get me and Y/N a strawberry shortcake milkshake? Extra whipped cream for me, please!” Namjoon called out to one of the boys, startling the younger of the two. The boy, Jungkook, must have been busy fiddling with the cash register that he hadn’t noticed your arrival.

“N-Namjoon-hyung? Sorry, I was just busy counting the money—” Jungkook stopped short in his speech, his tongue getting caught in his mouth when his eyes landed directly on you. He had made a strangled sound, like he had swallowed his spit too quickly and was struggling to regain his composure. “H-Hello?”

You realized belatedly that he must have been greeting you, as you had been distracted by his fidgetiness. His nervousness was cute, if a little bit contagious; you couldn’t help feeling anxious too, like your heart was missing every other beat, even though you had no reason to be. “Hello! My name is Y/N. It’s my first time coming here, but Namjoon says your new summer menu item is really good? I wanted to try it out for myself.”

Jungkook nodded, still staring wide-eyed at you as if in a trance. You expected him to start... well. You weren’t an expert on how bakeries or cafes are run, but you were pretty sure he should’ve started doing something after you had spoken, perhaps ring up your order on the register, or start working on your drinks. Instead, he’s still frozen in place, like he’d somehow short-circuited within the last two minutes.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed his odd behavior because the man working with him suddenly pushed Jungkook to the side, a brief smirk flashing across his face before it was quickly replaced by a more subdued, professional smile.

“Sorry about him. He’s usually my best baker, but sometimes he can get a little... distracted when he’s confronted with sweet things,” the man said nonchalantly, but it seemed that his innocent-sounding comment had embarrassed Jungkook greatly.

“Jimin-hyung!” Jungkook whined, stomping his foot not unlike a bunny. If you squinted a little bit, you could definitely see the resemblance.

Namjoon, who had been quietly watching everything unfold, chose that moment to pipe up. “Oh, I see. I didn’t know you had a type, but after thinking about it—” Namjoon shot a surreptitious glance at you, before turning back to Jungkook with a teasing grin, “—I can definitely see why.”

At the time, you had no idea what was going on, mostly confused as to why Jungkook had suddenly become so red-faced while Namjoon and Jimin giggled like a couple of high school girls. It seemed like you were somehow the main reason for his embarrassment, so you were quick to poke Namjoon in the stomach, effectively silencing him.

“Hey! Stop teasing the poor boy. He’s just being nice,” you said, pointing a soft smile back at Jungkook. “Sorry about him. I’m sure you’re an excellent baker, judging from how wonderful and cute all these cakes on the display look.” Somehow, your praise had only made Jungkook’s cheeks brighten even further. He cleared his throat as if to say something in response, before changing his mind and scuttling away to the back room instead.

“I’m going to start making your milkshake! D-don’t mind me!” He called out from behind the door, causing Jimin to finally break down into raucous giggles, nearly doubling over from his own mirth.

“Aish, that kid. He never learns, huh…” Jimin sighed, but the smile on his face is kind—the sort of fond look an older brother might have for his kid brother. He turned back to you and Namjoon with that lingering softness as he rang the two of you up, before chatting idly with you as you waited for Jungkook to finish making your drinks.

“I’ve never seen you around, Y/N-ssi. Jungkook—sorry, I meant I definitely would’ve noticed you if I did. You go to the same university as Namjoon-ssi, right?” Jimin asked, flipping a pen between his fingers with incredible dexterity. You were slightly distracted by that, faintly jealous of how his short fingers could somehow manage such a feat.

“I—yeah, I do. I’m assuming you’re also a student?”

“Yep. I actually met Namjoon-ssi when we took that one music theory class together. I was handing out flyers for this bakery after class and he happened to be one of the first people to actually come,” he said, winking at Namjoon. You watched with much interest when your friend turned a faint shade of pink, his hand coming up behind his neck—a signature tick of his whenever he was feeling shy or nervous.

“I-It was nothing… I mean, your seasonal drinks are always so good! I remember your old snowman-shaped donuts with the raspberry filling? I still dream of it sometimes,” Namjoon sighed, eyes going glassy for a moment.

Jimin laughed, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents. “Oh, stop it! I remember how you’d come here even after we stopped serving that donut and you’d beg us to make them again.”

“And yet you never did, even though I know you have the ingredients to make them,” Namjoon pouted, but there’s endearment dancing in his expression.

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never pegged Namjoon as a sweet-tooth guy, so this is honestly all a very big surprise to me. I should be pumped for this milkshake then, huh? Hopefully, you aren’t just hyping it up and I’ll end up disappointed.”

Before either Namjoon or Jimin could retort, Jungkook had reappeared from the back room with two large cups in hand, almost tripping over his untied apron string but managing to get to the counter in one piece.

“Here you go. I hope you won’t be disappointed when you try it,” he said, gaze averted downwards when he hands you your cup. Your fingers grazed each other for a second, nearly causing both of you to drop the drink like it was on fire.

“S-sorry,” you laughed it off, feeling your ears get a little red from your blunder. You pointedly ignored Namjoon’s arched brow, no doubt enjoying your sudden shyness. Without waiting for him to get his own cup, you casually tear off the straw wrapper and take your first sip of the drink.

“So?” Jungkook asked after a while, watching with bated breath as you take a good gulp of the milkshake. “How is it? Is it worth the hype?” You don’t speak for a moment, further aggravating the two bakers as you carefully chewed on the bits of strawberry in the drink.

“This—” you said, speaking slowly for increased dramatic effect. You could hear Namjoon groan beside you, used to your need for unnecessary anticipation. Even as you paused for a moment longer, you could already feel the smile creeping up your face, unable to completely hide your giddiness. “—is fantastic. Show-stopping. Best thing since sliced bread! I could live on this shit alone.”

Jungkook released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, chuckling in relief as you began to completely devour the treat in mere minutes. “I’m… really glad you like it,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. You were so immersed in your drink that you missed the way he sighed softly, hand gently cradling his chest where his heart would be.

Namjoon had taken his own sip as well, sighing dreamily as the creamy and sweet flavor overtook his palate. “Truly the best drink in existence. If I was a Twitch streamer or some shit, I’d promote this regularly for free.”

His comment made Jimin giggle softly, but his gaze is trained on something else entirely. “I’m flattered, but maybe don’t promote Y/N’s cup, over here. We don’t typically have strawberries and hearts doodled all over our cups,” he said, smirking slyly.

Lo and behold, your cup did have small doodles littering its sides whereas Namjoon’s was just a plain white paper cup. “Oh,” you said, blushing furiously when you finally noticed. Your flush was nothing compared to the one on Jungkook’s cheeks, however. The two of you refused to make eye contact after that, both of you trying (and failing) to silence the amused snickers of your respective friends.

Despite that slightly embarrassing (and heartwarming) experience, that had marked the start of your love for the tiny bakery and their special strawberry shortcake milkshake. You returned to Euphoria Bakery as often as you could throughout the summer, even going to visit it without Namjoon most of the time. You would even occasionally go out of your way to visit the bakery, even after your summer classes had ended and there was really no reason for you to be around the area.

It also didn’t hurt that the boy behind the counter was especially cute, with his big doe eyes and melodic laughter that always got your heart beating erratically in your chest. It hadn’t taken long for you to admit to yourself that you had a not-so-tiny crush and every visit to the bakery only made you fall deeper for him.

Namjoon has assured you that Jungkook clearly has a crush on you too, but you’re quick to shut him down. It is one thing to be shy and awkward around a girl and another to have a crush on the aforementioned girl. As you visited the bakery more and more, you do notice that Jungkook is more reserved when it comes to other female clientele, although, dare you hope? He does seem a little bit more… nervous, when he talks to you, but that could be your lovesick eyes playing tricks on you.

Never mind the fact that he only ever seems to leave cute doodles on your cups alone, but that could just be a coincidence, right? After all, he can hardly hold a conversation with you when you try to speak with him, always eager to rush to the backroom to make your drink.

Your visits usually consist of making idle chit chat with Jimin after greeting both him and Jungkook. The younger boy often dips the moment he sees you through the glass door, automatically going to prepare your favorite summer treat without even having to ask for your order. He never stays to stick around long enough to make conversation, as he eventually excuses himself to do some chore or another. During one of your trips, you tentatively asked Jimin if Jungkook was avoiding you, to which the blonde boy just laughed heartily at your query.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. He’ll come around eventually; he’s just nervous. Don’t tell him I told you this, but…” he trails off, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t accidentally overhear him. When he turns back to you, the smirk on his face is equal parts amused and mischievous. He looks a little impish, though you aren’t sure if he’d take that too kindly. “Jungkook always stares out the door, waiting for you to arrive. I’ve caught him red-handed far too many times for it to be a coincidence.”

Your cheeks flush warmly at his words but don’t say anything after that. You suppose all you can do is wait for him to start warming up to you eventually, and you hope the day comes sooner as the summer days grow shorter and shorter.

Of course, that day does come eventually, but probably not on the day you wished it would happen.

Like all good things, summer comes to its close and so does the summer menu options offered at Euphoria Bakery. Jimin had already told you a week beforehand that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake would get phased out as soon as July hit, but you refused to listen. You had hoped that as his regular customer and friend, perhaps Jimin would make an exception and prolong the milkshake’s lifetime for your sake, but it seems that Jimin has made it clear that friendship and business are two separate entities that he will not allow to coincide.

“Please Jimin? Just one more time? I’ll even settle for a small size,” you beg, your entire body draped over the cashier counter like the pathetic plebeian that you are. Thankfully, since you have made it a habit to pass by the bakery when it’s close to closing time, there aren’t any other patrons left to judge your pitiful display. Unthankfully, that also means Jimin is free to flick you on the forehead with no holds barred, leaving a large red welt where his finger hits.

“I already told you that I won’t budge, not even if you licked my Balenciagas. Besides, we’re out of strawberries anyway.” Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes at your pained whines as you grasp your head in agony. “Oh stop it, will you? I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“I beg to differ, hyung.” Jungkook pipes up, startling both you and Jimin. Jungkook is usually content to wiping down the glass displays or tables while he passively listens to the two of you bicker, humming occasionally to indicate that he’s still listening, so it comes as a small surprise whenever he does decide to speak up. He must have noticed this too, as his ears quickly begin to redden as he scrambles to finish his sentence. “I-I mean, hyung might have small hands, but his finger flicks are no joke. You could break someone’s skull with that thing.”

“Who are you calling small, huh?” Jimin growls, but the playful smirk on his face tells you that he’s just teasing. He pulls Jungkook in a headlock, who surprisingly doesn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that Jimin is actively trying to block his windpipe with his strong forearms. “Take it back!”

“Never,” Jungkook wheezes, effortlessly removing himself from Jimin’s grip. He dusts himself off, not even breathless. “Also, why’d you lie to Y/N like that? We still have strawberries in the back. How else would we make our strawberry jam tarts?”

Jimin squawks indignantly, folding his arms. “How dare you sell out our company secrets! I could fire you for that!”

Jungkook scoffs, bumping Jimin with his hip. Jungkook must also not know his own strength, because he accidentally causes Jimin to stumble a few steps back, nearly toppling over one of their bread racks. “You’re joking. If you fired me, no one would be able to make the bagels in the morning because you never know how to proof them correctly.”

“Slander!” Jimin hisses, pinching Jungkook’s side in retaliation. You and Jungkook laugh at his childish pouts, but the older boy can’t hide his own mirth for too long. “Fine. You can stay. But you,” he points at you this time, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You better not seduce my boy over here to make your strawberry shortcake milkshake. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” He drags his finger to the corner of the walls, where there is—

“There’s nothing there?” You follow where he’s pointing, but all you can see is a stray cobweb that Jungkook must have missed while dusting this morning. “Am I supposed to be looking at something?”

“Jimin is thinking of installing surveillance cameras soon. He’s convinced that someone is trying to steal his banana cream pie recipe.” Jungkook shrugs. He slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, glaringly delighted when their height difference becomes even more apparent while he stands close to him. “Anyway, I promise I won’t get ‘seduced’ by her, or whatever you want to call it. Why don’t you head home early for tonight? I’ll close up and I’ll try to convince Y/N to try our other pastries as a replacement.”

You open your mouth to try and protest, but Jungkook sends you a cheeky wink, making sure that his boss doesn’t catch him in the act. Bemused but interested to see what he’s up to, you decide to keep quiet and wait for him to continue.

“Don’t try and think you’re being slick here, buddy,” Jimin says, closing in on Jungkook’s personal space by pressing his chest against his. “If I see that you break the bakery code and serve her that drink… There will be consequences.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically as he gently pries the smaller man away from him. “Yeah, yeah. I got you. No funny business, I promise. Now get out of here, hyung. Leave the rest to me.”

Jimin gives him one last firm look before squinting warily at you, lips pursed tightly. “No seducing,” he repeats, wagging his finger at you. He unties the apron around his neck, throwing it haphazardly at the coat hanger on the back door where his jacket was hanging. He folds it over his arm and points at the corner of the ceiling with his free hand once more before exiting through the front entrance, the soft bells hanging above the doorway tinkling in his wake.

When he’s gone, you release a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. “Well, that was easier than expected. I didn’t think you’d be able to get him to leave. He must trust you a lot, huh?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nah. He’s just lazy. He hates closing the bakery and will jump at any opportunity to go home early.”

You nod. “Seems like him.” There’s a beat of silence. “So… How much seducing am I gonna have to do to get my milkshake, huh?”

Like you guessed, Jungkook immediately turns red at your words, spluttering and stammering over his spit for a few seconds before managing to come up with a reply. “O-oh, there’s no need for that. I was gonna make the drink for you anyway.”

“But what about the quote-unquote consequences?” you ask, still worried that you might be getting Jungkook in trouble. You’d rather have your arm cut off than have him get punished, no matter how small it might be.

“No need to worry about that. Jimin might pretend to be a prickly old man sometimes, but he’s mostly just full of hot air,” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “He’ll just make me treat him to some skewers or something. He’s just teasing.”

“If… If you say so? I just really don’t want him to get angry with you…” you say, voice turning small as you tried to reign your embarrassment in. “I know I made a fool of myself just moments ago and begged like a baby for the milkshake, but I was just exaggerating…”

“Something tells me that you aren’t, but let’s pretend for your sake that you are,” Jungkook says. You huff indignantly at his teasing, but you’re more overjoyed by the sight of his cute bunny smile. You had only seen it in passing a few times in the past, but seeing it directed at you is an entirely different experience. Because of you, your mind helpfully supplies.

He heads over to the backroom to begin preparing your drink, but he keeps the door open this time so you can see him even from behind the counter. You can mostly only see the large industrial ovens and bread racks filled to the brim with all sorts of pastries proofing for the night, but you do catch a glimpse of the sole blender near the back. Jungkook grabs the glass jar first and then walks over to the fridge just out of your sight, most likely to grab the ingredients needed for your milkshake.

The bakery is mostly silent, save for the sound of Jungkook moving and assembling everything. You rack your brain for some sort of conversation starter, as the atmosphere between the two of you has begun to return to its usual awkward state as you skirt around each other, unsure of where either of you stands. You might have known him for a while now, but today is the most you’ve ever spoken to him and the tension is palpable.

“So.” You clear your throat, heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. “I… guess this is going to be the last time I have this drink, huh?”

The sound of Jungkook chopping on the cutting board pauses for a second. You can only see his left shoulder from where you’re standing, but you can see it tense even then. “I… I mean, will you stop coming over to the bakery if it is the last time?”

There are so many things you want to say all at once, but the words somehow get caught in your throat. You want to say that you love coming to the bakery to see them (though it’s mostly Jungkook if you’re being honest) and that the strawberry shortcake milkshake had just been an excuse to visit for a while now. You want to keep visiting for as long as they’ll have you—but you don’t know how to say it without hot humiliation running down your spine. You don’t want to weird him out by confessing to him all of a sudden. And so, you clam up, not knowing how to respond.

When Jungkook throws in all the ingredients in the blender, he doesn’t turn it on immediately. He tilts his head to the side, not fully looking at you but giving you a view of his beautiful side profile. You see his Adam’s apple bob for a moment, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he speaks. “Because… If that’s how it’s going to be, then maybe… buying a couple of skewers for Jimin won’t be so bad.”

You freeze. “What? Are you saying that...”

“I’ll keep making the drink for you, even if it’s not on the menu anymore?” Jungkook finishes, turning fully to face you. There’s a shy grin on his face, coupled with the ever-present pink flush high on his cheekbones. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ll have to be sneaky about it, though. You’ll have to come to the bakery only when I’m closing so that he doesn’t catch us but otherwise…” He scratches the tip of his nose, looking embarrassed. “If… If you’re fine doing that, I mean.”

It feels like an eternity before you can remember how to function like a regular human being again. Your insides feel like molten lava and you’re certain that your internal organs have begun to self-destruct right after that super-effective hit from Jeon Jungkook, super baker boy extraordinaire. It’s mind-blowing how effortlessly cute he can be, making you realize belatedly that his quiet demeanor over the past few weeks had been a blessing and not a curse. If he had been this sweet with you from the get-go, you’d surely be melted butter on a sidewalk by now.

“I would love you—I mean, I would love it if you did that for me, actually.” You stammer, resisting the urge to punch yourself in the tit. You’re thankful for the lack of mirrors at the bakery, for you are positive that you must look like the devil’s blazing red testicles at this point.

“Great,” Jungkook smiles softly. He turns the blender off, pouring your drink into a paper cup. “Oh, before I forget…” He grabs a marker from the small tin can near the cash register, and you watch as he quickly scribbles a few hearts around the circumference of the cup. “There we go. Now it’s done.”

As Jungkook hands your drink to you, you’re hit with a moment of déjà vu when your fingers brush just like the first time you had met. You sense the same familiar shock of electricity when you touch, but instead of pulling away like before, Jungkook surprises you for the third time that day.

When he’s sure that you have a secure grip on your cup, he grabs your free hand with his, unfurling your fingers until he can get a hold of your pinky. He curls his pinky into yours, linking them together with a bashful smile on his lips. “There. Now we pinky promised to each other.”

“Y-yes. Of course,” you mumble, giggling lightly when he still refuses to let go. “I pinky promise.”

.

.

.

Five minutes away from Euphoria Bakery, Jimin sits quietly in his parked car, his figure hunched over the small screen of his phone as he chuckles loudly to himself. There is a tiny video of two people, a boy and a girl, with their hands held together. Despite the quality being grainy and warped, Jimin needs no confirmation as to who those people are; he’s always known, after all.

“All according to keikaku.” He whistles happily, already salivating at the thought of all the skewers Jungkook will have to buy for him.

[mmvalentine]

The Bargain Pt 5 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Rhys hadn't seen Feyre in a year.

He knew that, because his social media sent him a reminder that he had posted a photo of her finished tattoo a year ago, and he had not heard from her since.

Not that she had any obligation to contact him, of course. In fact, this was why he made the six month rule with his clients- he knew how easy it was to become attached to someone who you have been vulnerable around. And he didn't want to influence anyone like that, particularly not Feyre, who seemed to be having a tough enough time as it was. So although he thought about her often, after she left the shop that last time, for the most part he tried to let her fade into a pleasant memory, and not to dwell too much on whether she was okay out in the world.

But Rhys knew he'd never forget Feyre, because after she was gone he had actually started to paint again. Had locked the door of the studio behind her, arrived back at his apartment and stayed up all night with his crusty old oil set. Paper had never been particularly interesting to him, so he had painted his coffee table. Swirls and eddies of colour like Feyre had drawn on his arm in the gaps between his black line tattoos.

Over the next few weeks, Rhys' plain and understated flat became a frenzy of line and pattern and colour. He started posting photos on his instagram and to his great surprise, they garnered more attention than some of his better performing tattoo posts. He was even commissioned to paint shop fronts and feature walls in restaurants.

By the end of the year, Rhys was still in the studio most of the time but spent a week out of every month painting murals around the country, like he had always wanted to do. So no, he would not be forgetting Feyre, ever.

In May, Rhys got a contract in Berlin. It was one that he was slightly apprehensive about, since apparently it was a team effort and he didn't have much experience collaborating. He didn't love the idea that several people who had never met would be trying to create something cohesive in a short amount of time. On the other hand, it was an all-expenses paid trip and he was about due for a holiday.

Rhys landed in Berlin early in the morning, and had a couple of hours to kill before his meeting. He spent some time wandering around the strangely grey, concrete world, and found these amazing rainbow bursts popping up unexpectedly on street corners and in alleyways. Rhys found he rather liked it.

When eventually he walked through the tall glass doors of the building he'd been directed to, Rhys wondered about the team he'd be working with. There were a number of very well respected German street artists, and if he had to collaborate, he hoped it would be someone who he might recognise.

He was utterly unprepared to walk into the room and see Feyre sitting at the table, deep in conversation with a man with dark skin and white hair.

"Ah, here he is. Feyre, this is Rhys," the man said, while Rhys stood with one hand still on the door handle and gaped.

Shock registered on Feyre's face, but then it settled into an easy, broad daylight grin.

"Thank you Tarquin, we've actually met." Feyre's fingers trailed over her tattoo as she spoke, not taking her eyes from Rhys'. "Remember me?" she asked, with a little tilt of her head.

"I, uh, yeah of course I do," Rhys said. "I wasn't expecting to see you here." "Nor I you," she said.

"Rhys, good to meet you in person," Tarquin said, extending a hand. "I know we've only spoken on the phone before now, and I'm so glad you could come over for this project."

Rhys shook the contractor's hand, and settled into the chair that was pulled out for him. He nodded and smiled at Tarquin, but then found his gaze snapping back to Feyre like a magnet. A rose petal blush stole over her cheeks.

"I am so excited to finally have the two of you here," Tarquin said. His voice was slightly accented, and very warm. "As you know from the brief, my company has just settled its headquarters here in Berlin and we want a summer themed mural."

"I'm sorry," Rhys interrupted. "It's just the two of us?" Tarquin nodded. "Originally I wanted a whole team of artists, but then we redid the budget and it was decided we'd just hire two." "I'm curious, you have so many wonderful artists here in Berlin, why did you fly us out from New York?"

"Actually," Feyre said. "I live in Berlin now." Rhys blinked. "Oh," was all he could think to say.

Tarquin prattled on for another forty minutes about his company, the 'feel' they were going for, their target audience and so on. When Tarquin had first approached Rhys, Rhys was genuinely interested in his work but now that Feyre was here sitting opposite him, he couldn't take in a damn word. Couldn't even remember what he already knew about the business, just sat there wondering what had happened in the year since he had last seen Feyre.

How was she? Was she still with that whatshisname boyfriend? Had she been tattooed by anyone else this year?

Finally Tarquin stopped talking and told them he'd take them on a tour of the building, show them the mural site, and then let them settled in. He stepped out to take a phone call, and left them with a mood board he had collated for the painting. Then Rhys was left alone with Feyre.

And for the life of him didn't know what to say to her.

He just sat there, swallowed, and tried to stop staring at her. She noticed, and blushed.

"What are you looking at?" Feyre said, looking down self-consciously. A curl fell over her face. "I'm sorry," Rhys said. "I just didn't expect to see you." "Me neither," Feyre told him. "I mean, I moved cities, I moved continents and yet here you are."

Rhys nodded. "Here I am." He cleared his throat. "So ah, when did you guys move over?" "Just a few months ago," Feyre said. "And it's just me. I broke up with Tamlin." She shifted in her seat. "You were right. It got worse, and then better." "Oh, good," Rhys said. "I mean- not good, I'm sorry to hear that."

Feyre laughed. "No," she said. "It is good. And I'm really enjoying living here. I can't believe you're here." "I thought I'd never see you again," Rhys said. Feyre's eyes flickered. "You thought about seeing me?" she asked.

Now it was Rhys' turn to colour. "I... I just wondered if you might get in contact later in the year. You know, let me know how your tattoo's healing and all. Is it alright?"

"It's great," Feyre said, holding out her arm for Rhys to inspect. "I know I said I might call, but I just couldn't," she confessed. "As the months went on I got so embarrassed."

Rhys cocked his head. "Why?" he asked. "Because I had such a crush on you!" Feyre said. "And I bet every girl you tattoo falls in love with you, I didn't want to be one of them." She laughed, and looked away. Rhys just stared at her.

"You... had a crush...?" he started to ask, but then Tarquin breezed back into the room.

"Sorry folks!" he said. "Important call, but terribly rude of me. Now. Let's get on with that tour huh?"

And then he ushered them out of the room, and didn't leave them until they were all saying goodbye and Feyre was heading toward home in one direction and Rhys was going to his hotel in the other.

No matter. They had all week to get reacquainted.

****

Thank you so much to everyone who has been commenting, I've been astounded by the love you guys have been giving this story and I appreciate you all very dearly!! I thought it would be a little niche one, I wrote it because I like art and tattoos, and I really didn't think it would do this well. Would love to know what's working for you, so I can keep bringing it to you :)

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace

[jasmine-the-fox]

I’m not obsessed!

So I got this idea from rejections that would be horrible for when Mari reveals her feelings to Adrien written by @lenoreofraven and i’m going to write this one first and then do another one I saw in them and then write my own...

Mari never thought Lila would go this far with her lies... But this was over the top, she had gotten to school early for once after finishing another commission for Jagged and sent it to him, when she walked in... The class stared at her like she grew a second head, she ignored it and went to the back... Where she was sent to alone after Lila once again got the class to agree on the seating change without telling her.

Everything was going well until Adrien asked to wait after school, said he needed to talk to her, she didn’t really mind at all... But she didn’t think this would happen.

“I’m really sorry but I can’t return your feelings since there not healthy” he said “Lila told us about how you have my agenda written down, how you know everything I do... And I just think you should get help! I actually called your parents and offered to pay for what you might need!” he claimed as she looked at him like he was stupid.

So this is what happened? Lila made them think she was crazy for Adrien? Did her class not know her at all? Guess they didn’t... Adrien said that he could return her crazy feelings right? Oh well “Okay then” she said as he looked at her with a smile of hope “Then I guess were not friends anymore, i’ll unfriend you when I get home. Have a nice day Adrien” and with that she left him there in shock.

She walked into the bakery to find her parents looking furious... It was obvious it was about what Adrien called them for “I’m going to my room” she said and headed up, she went to the kitchen first to get herself something to eat and then headed up to her trapdoor and went in to find Kagami there “I heard what happened... To think they would forget you told the class you were dating me” she snapped as Mari sighed and went to her girlfriends side.

The two went up to her bed with the goods she brought, they talked about everything that had happened because of Lila, the possibility of a restraining order from the Agreste about something that they had no proof of happening, Tomoe Tsurugi came over moments later to speak to the Dupain-Cheng family “I wish to invite your daughter to come with me and my daughter to Japan” she explained, Tomoe went further with how long they would be there, where they would stay... In the end Mari’s parents agreed, Marinette was going to Japan in two weeks for the summer.

Now they had to take care of Lila...

The next day, Mari came to school with Kagami holding her hand, Kagami was dropped off at the bakery to have breakfast and then they walked the corner street to school together which Nino saw them holding hands and looking like he does with Alya, they walked in and went to Kagami’s locker first, Aurore, Mireille and Marc greeted the couple and headed to class, then they went to Mari’s locker where Alya was waiting by Mari’s locker for some reason “Why do you need to be so crazy!? Be grateful Adrien didn’t tell his dad on you!” she yelled and then left the room.

Kagami wanted to charge at her but Marinette stopped her “Just two more weeks. Two more weeks and then we won’t see them for the whole summer” she said making Kagami sigh and nod as they went to Bustier’s class “I’ll see you at lunch” Kagami said after kissing Mari... Without knowing that Rose and Juleka saw them “Sure babe. Here, bakery or your place?” Mari asked as Kagami rolled her eyes “I don’t care since I know your going to make something for us to enjoy” she replied making Mari giggle as they kissed one more time and then Mari went to her seat in the back.

“Oh Marinette! I can’t believe you stalked Adrien to school today! I really thought you would stop this by now!” Lila exclaimed as Mari raised a brow, Adrien looked horrified, Alya looked pissed, Nino, Rose and Juleka looked like Lila was saying a load of BS and the class was shocked “That’s not true dude” Nino said making them all turn to him “I mean, I walked to school to see her holding hands with Kagami when they walked in, after that Adrien arrived” he explained as Lila hid her anger at being revealed as a liar.

“Well then... Why did I see her going into Adrien’s locker before going to class?” Lila asked making this time the class glare at Mari “That can’t be right... Juleka and I saw her kissing Kagami by the classroom” Rose revealed... And the class watched as Mari turned beet red at those words “Sorry! You actually surprised us... But yeah, not only that but they were talking about where to eat for lunch today... So Lila is lying” Juleka explained as everyone turned to look at Marinette and then to Lila in a back and forth.

They were all confused, did Lila lie? But Mari was obsessed with Adrien “I seriously am shocked that you guys forget that I told you all that Kagami and I were dating... Then again it was three days before Lila came back” Mari spoke making there eyes widen as Adrien looked confused, she was right! They remembered the picnic Mari prepared for them with Kagami to reveal they were dating... Adrien hadn’t gone because of piano lessons, so he never knew about the two girls dating... But now he knew the truth... Mari wasn’t obsessed with him.

Lila had lied to them...

With that, the class blew up on Lila, yelling demands on why she lied to them all this time, what else did she lie about, demands to Max and Alya to look her name up on google... Look at that! Her name links you to the Ladyblog! Guess it should be called the Lilablog since that’s all Alya posts about! Lila Rossi took over the blog with her lies! Now Alya’s blog and dream job was in dust! Thanks a lot Lila! The class was yelling even when miss Bustier walked in and tried to have Marinette stop them... Only to find her doing her homework, Caline had to get the principal to stop them and get answers.

The words “Lila lied to us!” was all that was said before saying every single lie she told them... All up to Alya saying “Yesterday Lila claimed Mari was obsessed with Adrien!” which made Damocles look at them in shock, he took Lila to his office with Adrien... Ignoring the fact that Mari was spoken in a major number of lies and demanded answers while calling both of there parents... Only to find a second phone in Lila’s purse ringing, this made the principal understand that Lila gave them a fake number and was the one answering his calls from the start.

After a while both parents arrived, there was major yelling between the mother and daughter before miss Rossi took her daughter out of school and sent back to Italy to live with her father while she tried to fix Lila’s lies, still none of them thought about Marinette having been a target of Lila’s at all and the day went on, not even Nino, Rose or Juleka went to see Mari to say sorry for not believing her, in the end at lunch she went to the Tsurugi house to have lunch... Believing the class might look for her in the cafeteria or at the bakery.

In the end they never did, they all forgot that they believed Lila about Mari, bullied Mari because she bullied Lila... And they didn’t think about saying sorry and try to fix things with her, so when she came back, it was to find the old seating for the class, Caline tried to have Mari sit next to Alya like before but “No, I preferred the old seating arrangement with me alone in the back where I was ignored and believed to deserve to have my things destroyed and attacked because I was believed to be bullying Lila” she said making them look at her in shock.

She didn’t want to go back to the old days? But she’s there everyday Ladybug. There friends. So now that Lila was gone... Everything is fine right? Caline tried to push Mari to be the better person “Your all friends remember?” she asked as Mari glared at there teacher “Last I remembered, I wasn’t friends with any of them since last year when they announced that they weren’t going to be my friend since I was a bully” she snapped as she went to the back as Nathaniel sat next to Ivan, everyone was so quiet that Caline decided to begin the lesson, no one spoke and just looked like they were focused on the lesson like Mari and Chloe were when really they were shocked at there actions towards Mari.

For the next two weeks, none of them spoke to her, they didn’t try to contact her which unknown to them she had changed her number, they didn’t try to visit the bakery when Mari was either at the hotel with Chloe talking about date plans for Mari and Kagami or at the Tsurugi house making lists of what Mari had to bring with her... They simply did nothing, they thought Mari would come to them at some point to talk to them, but she never did, at the end of the second week, Alya made a group chat with the class to have them meet at the bakery to talk to Mari, Alya believed that Mari was giving them the silent treatment (she really wasn’t) and how Mari had to stop acting like a child.

Without knowing that morning they were heading to the bakery, Mari was at the airport saying bye to her parents and Chloe, by the time they got to the bakery, the couple had just opened the bakery “Hi! Were here to invite Mari to the park to have fun” Alya explained, of course it was a lie, the real plan was to surround her and confront her about her way of treating them being mean and selfish “Sorry Alya, but Marinette left for the whole summer” Sabine said as she then turned to a customer.

Alya was shocked and walked out of the bakery, by the time they were talking in the park about trying something else, Mari was sleeping with Kagami on there plane flight, since Mari’s phone couldn’t take a call from Paris, she left her phone at home, so when the class tried to call and text her, they were shocked to find a stranger answering them and saying they got the number a week ago... Explaining to them that Mari was being so mean to them that she changed her number... Not knowing that the day after they disowned there friendship to Mari... The designer had changed her phone and number.

For the rest of the summer, the class got to work on planning a way to get back at Mari for her way of treating them and then a plan to confront her for being so mean to them... Not knowing that Mari had transferred to Mendeleiev’s class to be with Kagami, and then had worked on papers with the Tsurugi lawyer to sue her class (minus Chloe) her teacher Caline and the principal for the way they treated her and to get the justice she deserved, of course Kagami had documented everything Mari went through since before they were dating and she handed it to her lawyer who with it claimed it would destroy them and make them loose so much.

By the time summer ended, the school board was investigating Damocles and Caline for there actions, the Tsurugi lawyer was ordered by Tomoe to target them first, then Lila’s mother called her daughter to yell at her about how Lila was being sued for bullying Marinette, when school started both Caline and Damocles were fired, Damocles was fired for embezzlement of money that was meant to help the school and using it for his The Owl costume, he was fired and investigated to find out how much money he owed the school, Caline was fired for lying to them, turns out she had her teacher’s permit destroyed after doing the same thing she did to Marinette and her classmates to another class in another school... Where the student who was like Mari committed suicide, Caline was sued and lost money for her actions but because Damocles didn’t search her further he never knew who he really hired.

Lila made her mother loose so much money that she was in heavy debt, Lila was forced to get a job to pay her mother and father back (he ended up helping to pay the fine Lila had to pay) Lila had lost everything and was being forced to get medical help for her lying, then it was the class, there parents all got letters about there kids being sued by Mari with a list of damaged items they destroyed (including prices of each item) clothes and pastries they forced Mari to make and refused to pay (more money listed with each item) and for Alya and Alix a list of injuries (including pictures) that they caused Mari at some point.

Gabriel was informed in the letter that Adrien had believed Lila that Marinette was obsessed with him in a romantic way... When she was dating Kagami, and instead of asking Mari about it, he instead called her parents about the lie and promised to pay for any center she was going to be placed in including treatment and then told Mari in a rejection about the lie, Gabriel grounded Adrien and warned him that one more wrong move and he would pull Adrien out of public school, still the class (minus Adrien and Chloe) were sued and some (Alya, Alix, Kim, Nino, Rose, Juleka, Mylène and Sabrina) were in heavy debt for things they destroyed, baked goods or clothes they demanded from Mari.

Meanwhile, Mari was happy to be with Kagami in class, she was having fun and was making friends with the class, when her old class saw her with her new class... They were lost, they had lost there everyday Ladybug due to there actions, but they still had a plan to do... But as they were about to do it, Kagami brought up the restraining order that was on the papers they received, Mari was surprised but she knew Kagami wanted to protect her... Since they were going to get married and all.

It happened in Japan, Kagami had taken her to a temple to pray and she made her demand, of course Mari joked about how “Kagami never hesitates” making them laugh, but Mari accepted so they went to the restaurant with Tomoe to give her the good news so they could celebrate together, after that the couple went around Japan to do some shopping and all Mari could think about was the wedding she would have with Kagami... They had much to plan but that could wait, they had to think about college right now since this was going to be there last year of high school.

Needless to say... Mari proved them wrong about her being obsessed on Adrien.

[lady-literature]

ayy, so ya’ll know that Miraculous/DC crossover I screamed about a while back? I found plot for it.

It is not quite finished yet, but it’s also so much longer than I originally planned on it being. (me: I’ll just write a fun little thing to get this out of my head!

me, 13k words later: oh no)

SO! Here’s a little sneak peak!

(or, find the finished product here!)

***

There is an unspoken rule, kept by any outsider who’s ever set foot in Gotham, that you should only ever visit the city once. Most find that visiting even once was already too much.

The most dangerous city on earth isn’t kind to its residents—much less strangers who don’t know how to watch their pockets or keep off the streets after dark. It’s gotten better, perhaps, in recent years since the Bat started lurking on rooftops, but that doesn’t mean the city is good.

Normal people stay as far from Gotham as they can get.

Marinette, (un)luckily, is far from normal.

***

The touring of Metropolis, New York City, and Gotham had been going well as far as Marinette was concerned, no matter what Chloé says to her about carelessness and naivety.

She’s glad her, Adrien and Chloé all decided to take this summer trip before they started University in the fall. It sucks that it was just the three of them, she wishes more of their friends could’ve tagged along but, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Kagami was in the middle of training season and couldn’t come. Luka was touring with his father, learning the tricks of the trade and other things. Nathaniel had already been commissioned to paint a mural downtown before they really finalized dates. Nino was in much the same boat as Nath, just with music and pitch meetings. Felix hated traveling and Alix was doing… something. Time travelling, probably. Or at least spending more time in the burrow.

Marinette was certainly starting to notice the way she’s begun talking about ancient history like she was actually there when she goes on rants now. Felix also probably noticed but Marinette’s also sure that he’s aiding and abetting her in exchange for insider information so…

She’ll probably have to deal with that later, unfortunately. But not today.

Their tour group was going to Amusement Mile later that afternoon, but had been given free roam until then. Marinette decided to spend the time up until lunch at the park near the meetup spot in Gotham Square and Chloé hadn’t complained or vetoed that idea so the trio happily camped out on the grass.

Marinette had returned to her sketch of Lady Gotham in between eating bites of her sandwich. She thinks she much preferred the style of it to New York City’s Lady Liberty. There was just something about the Statue of Justice that inspired her.

She’d been doodling about it since they left the marina yesterday. She also had plenty of pictures of the statue for inspiration later. There’s one she especially likes and thinks she might even print out to put up on her wall at home.

She’s playing with the idea of draping fabrics for formal wear designs like the roman togas both Lady statues seem to wear when a tennis ball rolls up and bumps into her leg. She has only enough time to move her sketchbook out of the way before a large dog bowls into her, tail wagging happily and barking up a storm.

“Oof!”

Adrien’s already halfway up the tree, startled out of his light doze by the barking and Chloé only daintily moved away from Marinette, leaving her to her fate. 

Pushing herself back up so she’s not crushed by what feels like one hundred pounds of dog, she comes face to snout with quite possibly the biggest dog she’s ever seen. From there, there was really only one choice of action Marinette could have followed.

“Oh! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest boy?” she tells the dog happily, reaching up to give him scratches. “Such a big boy! You nearly bowled me over, didn’t you?”

If it’s possible, the dog’s tail begins to wag even faster, enough that he accidentally overbalances himself and decides to roll with it, flopping onto his back and letting her rub his stomach. Marinette does so enthusiastically, her baby-talk to the dog devolving into broken not-words and the occasional exclamation of good boy! in both English and French.

The dog was a great dane, and had the softest coat of black fur she’s ever seen. There was a thick red collar around his throat, and Marinette stopped furiously rubbing his belly long enough to look at the silver tag attached to it.

“Titus, huh?” she says to the dog. “Such a strong name for such a distinguished boy, huh?”

“Oh god,” she hears Adrien groan from his spot still up in the tree. When she looks up, she finds him eyeing Titus with distrust, the absolute kitten. “I hope whoever his owner is, they’ve never read Shakespeare.”

Both her and Chloé blink at the strange non sequitur.

“Uh, why? Exactly?”

“Because they have shit taste in his plays if they do! Titus Andronicus is, like, Shakespeare’s worst play.”

Chloé glares up at him. “You’re such a nerd. Now stop being ridiculous and get down from there.”

“But, Chloé! It’s a dog.”

“Adrien Agreste!”

Marinette tunes out the two blondes as they devolve into sibling-like bickering. It’s a skill she’s had to learn and learn quickly with living in such close quarters with the pair for the last few weeks and also being friends with the pair for the past three years.

“Speaking of your owner, I wonder where they are?” She scratches under Titus’ chin thoughtfully. “Should we go look for them?”

Titus' head flops to the side, almost like he’s listening for something, before he’s clambering up onto his feet to tower over her. He’s almost twice as tall as she is sitting, which is just ridiculous. Why is everything in America so big?

Getting to her feet herself, Titus still stands almost as tall as her. She can rest her elbow on his back when she grabs his collar to make sure he doesn’t run off. He leads mostly, pulling her along at a steady trot she has to jog to keep up with.

He truly was such a well behaved dog and certainly lived up to his breed’s reputation as a gentle giant.

Or at least she thought so, until the call of “Titus! Here!” echoes through the park and he goes racing off towards it, dragging Marinette along for the ride no matter how much she tries to slow down.

Titus comes to a skidding stop, and Marinette barely stops herself from falling by keeping her arm around Titus.

“And who are you?”

Looking up, she finds a young man, probably around her age, staring down at her. He does not look happy—but most Gothamites don’t, Marinette’s found. He’s also, despite the almost glare he’s giving her, very attractive.

When she opens her mouth, incoherent French comes tumbling out, much to her embarrassment.

Ah. ‘Not being able to speak coherently to people she finds attractive’, she had wondered where that particular personality trait had been as of late. Even after so many years hanging around people who should be—and are—super models, she still acts like a spaz. Why is she like this?

The man raises an eyebrow at her, looking very unamused.

She tries again. “Ah- Je suis- I mean, I am very sorry. Your dog found me sitting over there with my friends and I figured I should find his owner instead of letting him just wander around and I assume your his owner because if you aren’t this is very embarrassing for me. Not that it wasn’t embarrassing before but, oh, I’m definitely rambling and I’m going to shut up now.”

Pressing her lips together as tightly as humanly possible so her tongue will stop making horrible life decisions, she holds Titus’ bright yellow tennis ball out to his owner.

The man huffs, taking the ball from her hand. “I didn’t ask for your life’s story.”

Marinette blinks and then frowns. Her hand tightens around where she’s still holding onto Titus’ collar and she has to very carefully unclench her hand before she breaks it or something.

“I didn’t give it,” she says through clenched teeth, embarrassment abruptly forgotten. There’s no need for the man to be rude.

He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she turns to Titus, who’s sitting like the good boy he is. She very seriously leans down to eye level—she does not have to lean down far—and tells him, “Your owner is an ass. But you are still a very good boy.”

She plants a kiss to his forehead that makes his tail wag, gives him one last scratch behind the ears and walks back towards her friends without looking back at the rude man. 

***

Colonel Bug: so I met kagami and felix’s lovechild today

MY HONOR: I would never stoop so low.

the evil twin: I would never stoop so low.

ShutUpTurtleMan: Nettie

dearest

the evil twin: Okay first of all-

ShutUpTurtleMan: sunshine

light of our collective lives and reason I breathe

what the fuCK

YoureUnderAgreste: Kagami, my love, how could you?

The Betrayal™

GottaGoFast: ew

Queen of Salt: ew

sneaky snake: Send pics or it didn’t happen

give me art or give me death: [a photo of the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Queen of Salt: wait

I was with you all day when did this happen?

was it the owner of the dog that attacked you?

ShutUpTurtleMan: WHAT

Colonel Bug: he didn’t attack me!

chloe stop spreading misinformation!

titus was a sweetheart!

YoureUnderAgreste: incorrect

he was, in fact, a menace

give me art or give me death: wait was Titus the dog or the lovechild

ShutUpTurtleMan: ^^^ ?

Colonel Bug: shut up adrien

all animals are great

stop being elitist

give me art or give me death: okay but seriously what kind of dog was it

the evil twin: why exactly was he our lovechild?

GottaGoFast: because of the dramatic tryst you and Kagami had obviously

keep up

Colonel Bug: because he was as pretty as he was rude actually

And gave me the feeling that he’d rant about his honor and parentage if it given the chance

MY HONOR: you say something once as an unsocialized teen

GottaGoFast: MARI YOU DOG!

ARE GETTING TAIL IN GOTHAM OF ALL PLACES?

Colonel Bug: no alix

did you not read the part about how rude he is

YoureUnderAgreste: i mean,,,,,

Felix is pretty rude and we all still like him

ShutUpTurtleMan: and Chloe

YoureUnderAgreste: oh good point nino

Colonel Bug: i hate it here

i spoke to him for like 2 seconds

Queen of Salt: Okay first of all-

YoureUnderAgreste: so i mean it’s not really a dealbreaker yaknow?

Colonel Bug: this familys a nightmare

i shoulda left you all on the street corner where i found you

YoureUnderAgreste: BUT CHA DINDT

ShutUpTurtleMan: but yA DIDNT

GottaGoFast: BUT CHA DIDNT!!

sneaky snake: but ya didn’t

***

I have every no regrets. stay tuned for more!

[personasintro]

one day | ksj drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; you and your boyfriend are spending your holiday in malta, but you've no idea that during your stay he realizes something very important – until he tells you and you couldn't be happier

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff, smut, established relationship

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fingering, unprotected sex, strong language, teasing, dom!seokjin but he's kinda sub when oc teases him, oral sex [male receiving]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4.7k

a/n: commissioned by @moonerva​ who's been incredibly patient with me, so thank you luv again!! also, this drabble is a part of the one I've written before, but can be read alone! (you can read it here!)

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

Warm air spreads across your cheeks while you walk through the night streets in Malta. Hands locked with your boyfriend, you admire the architecture and just enjoy your time spent together. It's a nice change from your daily lives, although you love what the two of you have back home.

Moving together proved to be the best decision you – as a couple – have made. Your first shared apartment isn't huge, definitely not the right home for the rest of your lives, but it's home for now. Surprisingly, Seokjin is very neat with his stuff, making sure there's no mess that you could possibly complain about. And no matter how many times his firm, but incredibly nice mother had told you, it's pain in the ass to live with him, you know you've made the right decision. Obviously, she was teasing most of the time, making sure Jin hears her whenever she talks behind his back.

“Mooom, stop. Do you want her to break up with me?” You remember him whining from the kitchen, preparing the dinner for the two most amazing women in his life.

Mrs. Kim just waved him off with a laugh, telling him you're not going anywhere.

And she was right. You're not and you're still very in love with her son. There's nothing that could change that, not even him acting like a child throwing a tantrum whenever he plays one of the games on a computer, getting angry over him loosing. Just the single memory is enough to make you smile, glancing at your boyfriend who looks at the baroque church you're passing by.

“You want to take a picture here?” he asks, pulling out his phone to take another set of pictures of none other, than you.

He already has hundreds of your photos, posing in front of monuments or just you completely oblivious that he's taking a picture. He loves those photos, they catch your natural beauty – and he loves whenever you catch him in the act, scolding him for doing that in the first place.

The same thing happened just an hour ago, when you were sitting in one of the local restaurants. You were enjoying your dessert when from the corner of your eyes, you could see your boyfriend stealing a few snaps of you. He cackled when the cream dripped down your chin, but he didn't stop and still teased you by taking pictures. It was funny, the locals and tourists nearby probably thought the two of you are crazy.

“We took so many already,” you laugh, admiring the building nevertheless. “Look! There's a fountain!” you exclaim, pointing ahead of you while you rush there, leaving your boyfriend standing in the middle of street with dumbfounded look.

He chuckles, thanking for your red dress that makes it easier to find you. They're just basic summer dress, with flowery pattern but it's you that make them gorgeous. You're gorgeous. Quickly following you, the last thing he needs is to loose you, he rushes towards you. He doesn't see you for a moment, his heart picking up the pace when all he sees are tourists and locals filling the street. He can't begin to imagine that something might happen to you. His eyes dance across the street, panic raising within his entire body and he's ready to yell your name, not caring he's in the middle of street full of people. Luckily, when a group of tourists leave, his eyes find you immediately. You're sitting on the edge of the fountain, fingers dipping in the clear and turquoise water. A breath of relief leaves his mouth and he allows himself to relax, although he fully relaxes as soon as he's by your side. He grabs your shoulder, sighing once again as he closes his eyes.

“You scared me,” he tells you, “I couldn't see you.”

And you want to tease him, turning around to take a glance at him but the grin disappears as soon as you see his face. He looks so scared and when he sits beside you, you notice his shaky hands that you quickly grab.

“I'm sorry, I thought you're right behind me.” you apologize, bringing his hand to your mouth as you give them a kiss.

“It's okay.” he smiles, knowing deep down he just panicked a little bit too much.

He lost you out of sight for a whole minute, and you're not a little child that needs his protection. But he can't imagine something bad could happen to you, just the thought of it makes him want to throw up. You're everything to him. He wants to be there for you, anytime you need him. He wants to protect you, cherish and love you for the rest of his life. He can't imagine feeling about someone like he does about you. Sure, he had couple of girlfriends but they were never that serious and then you came. When he least expected it, you came into his life and brought light into it.

When you look at him through your thick lashes, the little and decent make-up that makes you look much more youthful and natural, his heart blooms with even more love.

“No, it was stupid of me to do that. We're in a foreign country full of strangers. I'm sorry.” you insist, shaking your head to prove your point as he smiles at you.

He reaches towards your face, grabbing your cheeks as he stares lovingly into your eyes. Opening his mouth, he's about to say those three words that you love to hear, and always bring the brightest smile onto your face full of love and adoration. However, he's interrupted by the round of applause coming nearby that steals both of your attentions.

There is a woman, her hands covering her mouth as she's crying while the man is on her knee, holding a shiny ring. She nods, yelling a confident 'yes' before she pulls him off the ground and hugs him. Everyone starts cheering and even you, in the distance, can't resist and start to applaud for them. The bright smile that is caused by you being happy for some strangers decors your face and Seokjin joins you, applauding too. Although, his eyes are set on you.

“Oh my god, did you see that? That was so cute!” you beam, turning around to look at your boyfriend who acts like he hasn't been staring at you for awhile.

He smiles, nodding. “Yeah, it was lovely to be a part of such experience.” he admits, seeing you glancing at the couple that takes a few pictures with the woman's new ring before they walk away.

“Woah, that was so romantic.”

“Is that how you'd like our engagement to be?” he asks, head tilting in curiosity while he watches you.

Your cheek flush as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don't know, I'd like anything to be honest. I'm not picky.”

“Well, you can be more detailed. You know, for the future.” he wiggles his brows, causing you to laugh at him before it dies down and you stare at him.

“Are you planning to propose, Kim Seokjin?” you tease, eyes sparkling with amusement and adoration.

To be honest, the thought about marriage crossed your mind a few times. It's something you both want and talked about at the beginning of your relationship. But now that you've took another step in your relationship, that being you two living together, a marriage is the next big step. Although, it doesn't have to be so soon and the last thing you want, is for Seokjin to feel pressured. Whenever is the time right, you know it'll be amazing and one of the most special memories.

“No,” he deadpans, eyeing widening when he sees the horrific look on your face. “I mean--not now!” he quickly explains himself, causing you to giggle over his stressed expression.

“I was just joking, Jin,” you giggle, standing up. Dipping your fingers into the water, you lightly splash his face to get him out of his zoned state. “Now come on, I believe you promised me something after we get back to the hotel.” you smirk, remembering his promise.

His eyes darken as he stands up abruptly, clutching your hand in his as he leads you back to the hotel. You can't help but giggle at his determination, teasing him about it, considering he had you this morning and the night before. He laughs with you, but stays silent.

Little do you know that his mind is filled with other scenarios, not of him making love to you, but him bending a knee with a shiny ring in his hands, asking you the most important question that would change your lives.

What would you like?

Would you want it to be in a public?

Or would you prefer it to happen privately?

Would you even say yes?

Are you ready for marriage?

Even he knows that it might be too soon, but it's not too soon to be thinking about it and start planning it. He decided long time ago that you're the only one for him, he doesn't want anyone else. You'll be the mother of his kids, you're going to carry his surname and make him proud. Fuck, the thought makes him happy and he can't wait for it to happen. But you're both too young, and although you love each other deeply, you're taking it slow and naturally. There's no point in rushing, not when he knows you're the one and you feel the same way.

The hotel room that you've booked for a week looks messy. The sheets on your bed are completely rumpled, there are Seokjin's and your dirty clothes all over the floor. Despite of you being a neat person, and so is Jin, but you left your room like this, not bothering to clean up a little bit. The two of you were too excited to look around, knowing you'll spend your whole day outside anyway. The only time you spend there is when you're sleeping or your boyfriend is pounding you into the already messy mattress. God, you hope there are no traces of your morning and night adventures.

It's more about your dignity than anything else, when you're about to do the same thing like every evening. However, this time you don't let your boyfriend leading you towards the bed and having that power over you.

“Oh come on, princess.” he scoffs lightly, once you push his shoulders and make him sit down. He plops onto the soft mattress with ease, looking up at you with a mere shocked gaze.

Caressing his broad shoulders, you take your time to feel him through the fabric. Jin's shocked expression doesn't go unnoticed by you, but you ignore it and let him stare at you with a hidden interest. He's usually the one who takes the first step, guides you while you're in the position of enjoying his touch and let him do the whole work. It sounds selfish, but it's really not. One of Jin's pleasures is to see you enjoying yourself with his touch. He loves the fact that he's the one who makes you squirm, moan and whine for him.

He spreads his legs, allowing you to stand between them as his hands are automatically grabbing your hips. He almost groans at the thinness of your dress, silently admiring how it fits you and your figure, even though they're completely loose and don't show your true curves, you're still breathtaking. Even the slightest tan you've managed to get in three days of your stay. He lets his eyes wander around your little details, like the diamond necklace you've been wearing ever since he gave it to you on your first anniversary. It's a simple necklace, a little heart sparkled with tiny diamonds. The other necklace – the shorter one – has a little 'S' on it. It symbolizes him and his name. You bought it for yourself, wanting to have him close to you even if he's not by your side. He didn't buy it, he's not so narcissistic. It's cheesy and so cringe, according to your own words, but it settles a calm feeling whenever you're stressed and Jin isn't there. You've never felt so attached to anyone, and it scares you. Just he thought of him not being in your life freaks you out. You wouldn't be able to live through your break-up, if that ever happens. Fuck, you hope not.

Jin remembers the exact moment when he saw the necklace around your neck. He was surprised, but couldn't help that stupid and wide grin from appearing on his face. When you told him why you bought it and even laugh it off, he just couldn't stop staring at you before he showered you with hundreds of kisses.

“What do you want, Jin?” you ask slowly, hands still caressing those wide shoulders while he scoffs again.

“Is that even a question?” he asks, causing you to raise a brow at him. He sighs, but still answers. “You, obviously.”

“You had me. This morning and yesterday, actually. And the days before too.” you point out, not looking into his eyes but you know they're solely set upon you.

He's probably frowning, wondering where the hell is this going to? He doesn't like that, he wants to rip those dress off you. “What are you doing, princess?” he asks cautiously, voice low and raspy.

“What do you think I'm doing?” you ask, feigning an innocence while you bat your eyelashes knowing it'll drive him insane.

It does, his eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Giving him a little smirk, you drop onto your knees knowing he'll be distracted from what he was about to say. And you're right, he shuts his mouth and stares at you through hooded eyes, while your palms spread over his knees. You give them a few strokes, staring at him while acting all innocent when deep inside, you're smirking and laughing devilishly.

“Princess,” he says, and it sounds like a whine but he controls his voice and gulps instead. “Touch me.”

Well, you're surprised by how quick it took for him to say it out loud. Jin never faked or held back his need for you, but you still thought the male pride would stand in the way.

And how could you resist those soft but dark brown orbs full of want and love?

Unzipping his pants, he helps you to take them off, not fully though. They pool at his ankles, along with his black boxers. His hardening length almost slaps you and you flinch back, not expecting him to take his boxers too. Raising a scandalous brow at him, he gives you an innocent shrug and smile which makes you giggle. Taking his length into your hands, you squeeze the soft and velvety skin, admiring that part of him. Well, it's not like you see it for the time but it's still worth the attention.

And from the corner of your eyes, you notice him smirking cockily at the salivating look you give him. Spitting into your hand, he curses at the sight before you start stroking him. His hips jerk and with a head thrown back, you're the one who smirks this time. He groans, wanting you to fasten up your pace but you don't. He must be thinking you're not getting the message, and that's why he looks at you and is met with your little smirk.

“Faster, princess. C'mon.” he says, jerking his hips again to prove his point but you just shrug.

“Why? I like it this way.” you tell him innocently, almost bursting in laughter at the sight of his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw.

“Y/N,” he warns you, his breath hitching when your thumb brushes against the mushroom head. He realizes him being sassy won't get him anywhere, and you'll just tease him even more. He sees the darkened and amused glint in your orbs, and although it's something fresh and he hasn't seen it for a long time, he knows you're in one of those moods. “Please, princess.” he whines and he gets the reaction he wanted.

You listen, obviously happy with his reaction as you quicken up your pace. Your saliva is used as a lube, making it easier to pump him. He moans when you set up a stable pace, jerking him off while he gets fully hard.

“Put it in your mouth now,” he breathes out, “Please.” he adds, causing you to chuckle.

For a moment, he's scared you'll make him beg for it, although you've never been that type. God knows what's going on inside your pretty head, he thinks.

Scooting closer to between his hands, you kiss the tip of his length making him groan. Your soft and plush lips have that kind of effect on him, even though he's the one with a perfect set of lips that any woman could ever dream of. Sucking at the tip, he almost goes feral when you take him into your mouth. Going further, you let his cock go deeper while you take all of him. It's not easy and you almost choke around him, but holding your breath helps a lot and just the thought of how you make him feel is enough to continue. You drool all over his hard length, getting his balls soaked with your saliva as you hold yourself there. He moans, not having the heart to jerk his hips upwards even though that's exactly what the horny side of him tells him to do. He can't, and holds himself back as much as he can before you move up. You let his cock head stay inside your mouth, breathing through you nose before you take him again. This time, you start blowing him while humming around his throbbing cock. Your heart signs with pride when an evident groan slips out of his mouth and gets longer with each move you make. He pets your hair, groaning louder when you lick the underside of his cock.

“Oh, fuck. Princess,” he whines, hips jerking when you suck on the head again and hum in response.

Jin's mind is filled with the need to get a release, not thinking that there's a whole night ahead of you and if he cums now, it'll take time to get himself hard again. He could take that time to truly take care of you, to taste you and he knows your little moans would be all he needed to get his cock hard again.

But none of this is on his mind, all he can do is grabbing you by your head while he clutches your beautiful sleek hair in his grasp. He's getting there, with each moan getting a bit louder, you know he's about to cum down your throat. And you'd like that, but you have other plans. Just as he's forcing your face down onto his cock, you pull away. He nearly screams, his release being snatched from him in seconds.

Cheeks red and chest heaving, he narrows his eyes in confusion. He watches you wiping your mouth, detaching that line of saliva that connected your mouth and his cock, before he opens his mouth.

“What the hell,” he murmurs, shoulders dropping in disappointment at your sudden decision. “Y/N.” he breathes out, not hiding the disappointment in his voice either.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” you hum, eyes averting between his hard cock and face.

He grunts, reaching towards you as he gets you onto your feet effortlessly. You squeak in surprise, but your stomach jumps with excitement, especially when you hear him growl.

“You know I don't like being teased,” he says through clenched teeth, making sure you stare deeply into his eyes. “Whatever this little stunt was, you're done.”

Your heat pulsates at his words, clenching around nothing. Thank God he can't see your clenched thighs together, even though something tells you he probably knows. He always said you're easy to read, that's how good he knows you. There's not a person who knows you like Jin. Not even your parents, family or friends.

“But you like it, huh?” he chuckles lowly, tilting his head to the side. “You like when I get like this. When I talk to you like this.”

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you can't control the heat that spreads over your cheeks and all over your body that trembles with excitement in Jin's hands. He stands up, chest bumping against yours as he hovers over you. It's just for a second and it happens fast before you're sent to bed. Back bumping against the mattress, you stare at your boyfriend that has the same lustful look, like he hasn't had you every day. He can't get enough of you.

Eyes trailing down, he notices your dress being hiked up and exposing your thighs. “Take off your dress.” he barks an order, yet his voice stays light but authoritative at the same time.

Slowly sitting up, your eyes don't leave his face and you make sure it stays that way for the whole time you're slowly taking them off. Purposely, your movements are slow and you really take the time to get the soft and red fabric off your body.

“Don't test me, princess.” he warns you, narrowing those brown eyes at you in silent warning.”Underwear too.” he adds, mouth salivating at the sight of a similar shade of red bra and matching lacy panties.

And you do listen, trying to appear calm and slow when your heart keeps hammering inside your chest like it's about to jump out. When you're fully exposed to his hungry eyes, he hums in approval before he stands up. You almost let out a whine, fearing he's going to be the one to tease you right now or worse, he'll leave you high and dry. But it all dies down when he fully takes off his jeans and boxers which stayed pooled around his ankles. His button up is going next, falling carelessly onto the floor before he stands in front of you in his natural naked state. Licking your lips, you let your eyes wander to his still hard cock, waiting for attention. The angry red color of his head almost matches to your underwear that's laying on the floor with Jin's clothes.

He hovers over you, connecting your mouths as he tastes himself on you. He groans, hand dipping between your legs. Jin's thumb gently rubs your clit, humming again at the feeling of your wetness that spreads all over his fingers.

“Hm, maybe I should just stick my cock inside of you for all that teasing,” he tells you lowly, but still lets his fingers slide into your cunt. You gasp at the sudden penetration, walls automatically clenching around his two fingers.

Too good. It's too good.

“For that all teasing from you, I just might.” he chuckles, enjoying your squirming and breathless form. You make him feel powerful, he loves that.

His hand goes down, stroking his cock while you spread your legs for him. He holds a question in his eyes, but your whining and spread legs that he knows so well, give him an answer. When Jin finally lines himself up and thrusts into you, you're left speechless and able to move, until he's fully inside of you. He kisses you, rough and fast, before he starts rocking his hips into yours. But even that doesn't last that long, until he quickens up his pace and starts to pounding you. You shouldn't be so surprised, after all that teasing, you had to see it coming.

His name echoes in the room, you voice is like a sweet melody to his ears, along your moans and gasps of air that you let out every time he hits your g-spot with his thick cock. He feels your cunt clenching in approaching orgasm, while his eyes stay fixed on yours. Jin's grunting, pounding into you in harsh and quick thrusts. Your eyes close, rolling back when you see yourself cumming.

“Open your eyes,” he demands, his hand wrapping around your neck when you listen to him and open your eyes. He squeezes your neck softly, your eyes betraying you again as they roll back, chasing that long-wanted orgasm.

“I love you.” he grunts, slowly squeezing your neck again while you finally let go. Your cunt throbs, clenching uncontrollably around Jin's cock while he still keeps fucking you.

He's chasing his own orgasm, following you two minutes after as he cums with a deep groan, spilling himself into you. His cock throbs, twitching while he's painting your inner walls white with his seed. He rolls his hips into yours a few times, repeating; “I love you, I love you, I love you.” all over again.

“I love you.” you tell him, once he finally stops and drops his body onto yours. He's still careful not to crush you to death, his hands holding himself slightly while his hand is no longer around your neck.

“I'll marry you one day. And you're gonna love it.” he says, voice muffled and breath hitting your shoulder as he keeps his head buried between your shoulder and the dirty sheets.

If they weren't coated with yours and Seokjin's fluids, you'd feel much more disgusted. Surprisingly, you don't mind it that much. Let's wait until the two of you go to sleep.

His words make you smile, your heart flattering at his honest and soft words.

“I know I'll. No matter what you'll do and how you'll do it, I know I'm gonna love it.” you smile, feeling him do the same against your skin.

He pecks your shoulder, slowly lifting himself up as he slips out of you. His cum is already dripping down your ass, staining the sheets even more but you don't move. All you can focus is Jin's eyes staring into yours, a hidden meaning inside of them but all you can see is love. A pure love that makes your heart ache happily. You've never felt this kind of love.

“That's my promise. One day, I'll marry you and make you officially mine.” he promises, causing you to giggle.

“I'm already yours, you dummie.”

He gasps, faking a petulance. “But you'll have my surname and I get to call you my wife. And then, I'll make you nice and pregnant with my babies.”

You're not going to lie, his words have a huge effect on you and you know he's talking about future, but you already can't wait for it when the time comes. You're both still young to that kind of commitment, and you'd like to wait a little longer. But whatever the future holds for the two of you, you'll welcome it as long as it's by Jin's side.

“Look at you, here talking about babies.” you giggle, caressing your hands over his chest.

“If they get to be beautiful and smart like you, I want the whole army of them.” he says, your laughter echoing around the walls that sounds so blissfully to him.

A natural and soft smile spreads on his lips as he kisses you. Your lips mold together, creating a perfect rhythm that makes butterflies erupt inside your stomach.

“One day, maybe not the whole army but...” you trail off, making him laugh as he leans his forehead against yours.

“One day.” he says, eyes glinting with happiness and love.

Your own eyes mimic his – what are you supposed to do other than to nod and agree with a huge smile.

“One day.”

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 7

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 4k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE] [CHAPTER FOUR] [CHAPTER FIVE]  [CHAPTER SIX]

You wake up with a fog in your mind, but you think nothing of it as you pull yourself out of your bed. Your limbs are heavier than usual, and your stomach is screaming for a crumb of nutrient, but you power through, thinking nothing of this since tiredness and hunger are nothing new to you. 

 You freshen up and pull your hair away from your face, and put on clean clothes. After a moment of perusing your laundry, you make a mental note to do them soon. 

 You slip your feet into your sandals and grab your weapons in a hurry, not even sparing a glance at the parchment on the floor containing your house bills. You do not want to be late, especially when Tobirama told you in the beginning to always be early. Tobirama has told you to meet him at the market since he wanted to look for new weapons and to commission people into making ninja tools for Academy students to train with. You run outside, only stopping when you see Tobirama standing in front of your building with his back to you. You stare at him a little longer, not meaning to linger on the space on the back of his neck, or the muscles of his back moving in and out as he breathes. 

You slowly walk towards him, ignoring the way your heart falters and stops. 

“Took you long enough,” Tobirama greets you roughly. 

 You roll your eyes and bump your shoulder against his. “I thought we were meeting at the market.”

 Tobirama glances away, and you follow his gaze. You find nothing out of ordinary in the direction he is looking at. 

 “Are you hungry?” Tobirama asks suddenly. 

 “Huh?” 

 “Are you hungry?” Tobirama repeats, this time his tone is insistent.

 You stare at him in bewilderment. It’s not like he knew you skipped breakfast. “Y-yeah.” 

 “Let’s go,” Tobirama says, and he starts to speed walk down the street. 

You lightly jog after him, a chuckle bursting out of your lips. You do not know what has gotten into Tobirama today, but you admit that this is a new side to him that you have not seen yet. He is not being pissy, but rather, he seems to be holding out a light for you to get closer. He is more lenient with your antics. You try not to think too much about it, as it makes you feel weird and queasy in your stomach. 

 You reckon it’s the hunger. 

You walk beside him as he leads you to a small eat-in store, where they are selling fresh baked bread, porridges and drinks. Tobirama stands to the side as you peruse the menu outside the store, and when you have decided, the two of you slide into a table, with Tobirama sitting in front of you.

 A moment later, someone comes in to take your order, and when they leave, you frown at Tobirama.

“What?” Tobirama scowls. 

 “Why didn’t you order for yourself? Green tea is not breakfast.” 

 Tobirama looks uncomfortable as he loosens his shoulders. “I already ate. You, on the other hand…”

Your mind blanks, coming up with nothing. Not even a teasing remark. 

  This is surprising, you muse to yourself. 

You shrug, and Tobirama’s eyes narrow at you. 

“How is your training going?” Tobirama inquires in the tone you deem casual for him. 

 “I’m making small progress,” you tell him. You fold your hands and rest your chin over them. “Your notes really helped.”

 Tobirama nods. 

 For a moment, you thought that he was going to brag about it, but he did none of that. 

“I have some new books for you to go over,” Tobirama suddenly says, not even easing you to its idea. 

 “More books?” Your brain hurts at the thought of new material to consume. 

 Tobirama glances at you affably. “I think you’d like them.”  

Huh?! You exclaim to yourself. Since when did your interests matter to him? 

Thankfully, your food arrives quickly, and you do not waste time to shove them in your mouth because Tobirama does not get you to talk when you are eating. However, he is looking at you strangely and he looks almost horrified at the speed you are inhaling your food. 

“Slow down,” Tobirama warns. “No one’s going to take your food.” 

You cough and bits of food spray out of your mouth. You turn away from him to compose yourself, and when your chest is no longer spasming and you are able to swallow down a big chunk of food, you grab his tea cup without thinking and down the tea in it. 

 Tobirama is not sure whether he is astonished or disgusted. 

“Thanks,” you gasp. 

Tobirama nods, feeling half of his face grimace. “It’s fine,” he tries to convince himself. 

 He gestures at the person by the counter for the bill, and you are suddenly embarrassed that he is paying only for your food and not even for himself. 

“Wait, can’t I pay half?” You ask him, stopping his hand from putting the money on the small tray. 

Tobirama glances at your hand on top of his and he stiffens. “I got it.”

 “Tobirama…” You start, doubtful.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. “Really? You choose now to have some shame?” 

You sigh, and you give him a playful smile. “Be careful what you do for me, Tobirama. If you’re being nice today, I will be taking advantage of that.” 

Tobirama knocks your hand off of his and he places the money down. “You’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.”

You cackle. “The honor is mine.”

 “It’s not a compliment,” Tobirama immediately shoots back.

You let the moment pass, and then, you lean forward to gauge his reaction. “How’s the search for future partners going? Any special women or men you have your eye on?”

Tobirama suddenly looks indignant. “No.”

 “Aw, why not?” You think about it. “I mean, it shouldn’t be hard. Look at you, you’re so handsome.” 

Tobirama is not sure how to react, so he stares at you instead, forgetting to scowl or even frown. His words form in his mind, but they end up being scrambled as they reach his mouth. 

 “You don’t believe me?” You challenge him. 

 “What?!” Tobirama harshly snaps.

You call the person behind the counter and gesture for them to come closer. 

“Yes?” 

 Tobirama manages to gather himself to glare at you. “What are you doing?!” He hisses under his breath. 

“Tell me honestly,” you begin, trying to sound thoughtful, like this is the most important discovery. “Isn’t he handsome? Sexy, even?” 

 Tobirama feels like there is a cauldron underneath him and he is hanging over it to be boiled alive. 

The person glances at the two of you with shock. 

“Um…” They nervously glance at Tobirama, who is glaring daggers at you, his face red. 

You laugh, and you hand the money to them. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. Have a good day!”

The person bows to Tobirama, squeaking out my lord and they scuttle away from your table. 

You glance at Tobirama, noticing the coloring on his face almost matching the three stripes that frame his face perfectly. 

 “Are you angry?” You ask, taking note of the redness of his skin. “Or hot? It is summer.” 

Tobirama stands up abruptly and walks out, his fists clenching by his sides. 

 You chuckle to yourself, and you follow after him. 

“Come again, er…” The person calls out. “What is your name?” 

 You see Tobirama standing just a few feet away from the door. 

“Y/N.” You smirk. “Senju Y/N.” 

Tobirama feels his knees give up on him and he sways a little. 

//

While Tobirama walks straight ahead with purpose, you make a point of stopping by each stall to look at their items and try out free samples. While you mile around, Tobirama makes a point of slowing down to wait for you even though he does not stop for anything. You try to pull him towards a stand that sells little toys and trinkets, but he does not budge until you tell him that you found a drawing that looks similar to him. 

 Tobirama sighs and lets you grab his arm towards the paintings. A man sits on a stool underneath an umbrella, painting away. 

 “Where is this painting?” Tobirama grounds out, entertaining you instead of brushing you off. 

 “Here!” You point at a snowman overlooking a snowy mountain range. “Pale and cute.” 

 Tobirama scowls and he immediately marches away but you see that his eyes are warm, almost brown and you feel like you are staring at a hearth. You pull his arm back before he can make it far. 

“I’m kidding, that’s not it,” you tell him. “It’s this one!” 

 You gesture at a portrait of him, and Tobirama stares at it in wonder. It is him, yet in the painting, he looks older, his eyes wild and desperate, and his shoulders heavy with burden. Something in him aches and he turns away from it, feeling like the portrait is trying to speak to him.

 “What, too ugly for you?” You tease him, and you duck a little to meet his eyes. 

 “The nose looks a little big,” Tobirama replies vaguely and you roll your eyes. 

 “You’re popular!” 

 “I am popular enough,” Tobirama states and he starts to walk away. “Let’s go.” 

The morning sun is now reaching the center of the sky. The heat is starting to rise up, and it burns the back of your heads, but the two of you power through it and finally, you arrive at a school of blacksmiths. Tobirama enters in, and you follow him, the sight making you misty-eyed. The sound of metal clashing against metal, of the fire being started and water sizzling, it all hits close to home. 

“Lord Tobirama,” a smith greets him. When he turns to you, a flash of recognition lights his face. 

 You keep your face neutral, not knowing what the smith’s intention is. You go towards a table of freshly made blades to hide your face, letting Tobirama do what he needs to do here. 

Your eyes go to the kunais hanging on the wall, the length of their blades varying. You approach it and take the sheathed kunai and weigh it in your hands. The weight feels weird so you unsheath it, completely surprised that it falls apart to become two kunais, splitted in half. You put it back, and go back to the table of blades to run your finger on their surfaces. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?” The same smith from earlier approaches you. Tobirama is nowhere to be seen. 

 “Yes,” you answer. “Though I have seen better.” 

 “I bet you have,” he says and hands one of the blades to you. “I am Nuga.” 

You accept the blade with both hands and you behold it. In its reflection, you study Nuga, making mental notes on his body language and the way he is positioned, formulating a plan to escape him in case something goes wrong. 

 “What do you think?” Nuga inquires. “It is yet to be attached by its hilt, but it is one of our best works so far.” 

“The blunt curve of this tachi is perfect,” you murmur. You set it down and look into his gray eyes. “What do you want?” 

 Nuga smiles. “I have a job for you, Man-Killer.” 

You grit your teeth, and suddenly you feel cold washing all over you and you lose feeling from your face and hands. A shiver runs down your spine.

 “I haven’t heard that name in a while,” you coldly say, letting the ice drip in your words. 

Nuga raises his chin towards you. “I heard you have been out of commission for a while. Some people are looking for you.” He folds his arms. “Though I did not think that you’d be hanging out with Konoha’s echelons.” 

 “It just happened,” you snap.

 Nuga nods. “So, this job–”

 “Sorry, I don’t do that anymore.” You shoot him a dangerous look, your hand itching to draw your own sword. “I’m clean now.” 

“Will the price persuade you?” Nuga asks, stepping closer to you. “You are one of the best–”

 “Enough,” you interrupt Nuga. “Stop it. I am not doing it. Find someone else.”

You make a beeline towards the exit, but Nuga’s words stop you cold. 

“No matter how clean you think you are because you have stopped killing for the money, it does not erase the bodies you have murdered,” Nuga calls after you. “They are forever dead because of you.”

You bow your head slightly and clench your fist. 

“If you change your mind,” Nuga starts as your foot steps forward. “You know where to find me.” 

//

Tobirama watches you as he walks you home. All the jokes and the playful remarks have stopped, replaced by a serious look on your face. He rarely sees you this serious, and he waits for you to divulge your thoughts with him or even get angry and spew some shit to deter your thoughts, but you do none of those. 

 The two of you are reaching your home, and you have not even spared him a glance. 

While he was talking to the master of the blacksmith school, he overheard a little bit of your conversation with one of the blacksmiths there. The word Man-Killer sticks to his mind like a persistent stain, and it makes his stomach turn. He wants you to ask him for help if you are in trouble, or better yet, tell him everything, but how can he ask you that without condemning you? Do his brother and Madara know about this?

 He is not even sure if you took the job or not since he was pulled away at the last minute about prices and delivery of the commissioned weapons. 

Tobirama is a second away from doing what he should do: take you and hold you in a cell to interrogate you. 

 However, he wants to trust in you. He should. The least he can do is to give you the benefit of the doubt. You deserve it. 

You did say that you do not do that anymore and that you are clean.

Tobirama thinks that he is becoming ridiculous. 

 He propagates enough chakra to feel you out. 

 He reaches forward and catches your arm, and you whirl around. He feels that you are upset. 

“Are you okay?” Tobirama asks, hating how vague he is. He is always so straightforward that he does not know how to move away from that extreme. 

“Yes,” you reply coldly. Your voice is too detached. 

 A lie. 

Tobirama searches desperately. How can he ask this? Of all the times he is smart, why is he incapable of saying the right words? 

 You wrestle your arm away from Tobirama, and you stare at him. “Why are you asking?” 

 “Will I see you tomorrow?” 

You regard him cautiously, and Tobirama sees a sliver of you. The one you tried so hard to mask. He is only beginning to scratch the surface and he wants to keep peeling each skin to get to the core. He feels like he is on the tip of something here, like the rush of adrenaline before the success of an experiment. 

Who are you? Tobirama wants to blurt out. He wants to know. He badly wants to know. He has never desired something this bad. 

“Of course,” you tell him, and your eyes move to search his face. 

 You are telling the truth. 

The tension in Tobirama’s shoulders releases, and he watches you walk away from him. His skin itches where he has touched you, and for a moment, he almost follows after you. 

 He stops himself and shakes himself out of it. 

 You are telling the truth. 

The moment you stray, he will be the one to stop you. 

//

You wake up sweaty and feverish. Your mind feels foggy, and you just do not feel right. You feel cold and your head hurts, and the light coming in from your window makes it worse. You let out a long sigh, and relax into your bed. Your limbs feel like there are anchors attached to them, dragging you down to the bottom of the ocean. 

 You give yourself a minute to come to, breathing in and out to brace yourself to move. 

 Then, you count from one to three. 

  One. 

  Two. 

  Three.

Red flashes under your eyelids, and you let out a cry as you attempt to roll out of your bed. You fall to the floor, limbs splayed like a newborn foal. You bite your lower lip to stifle another cry, but your chest begins to heave, and you are unable to control the sob that breaks out of your mouth. You clench your fist, cursing the world. 

 You should have known that your old nick-name would come back and bite you in the ass. You never took pride in it, for you, it was always a job. The people chose to name you that because when you were young and desperate to live, you killed a man who had assaulted you in self-defense and fled. 

 Maybe you should have not fled. Maybe you should have faced the consequences, but back then you were running away from your family. You had no morals, and you only cared for yourself.

Your breath comes out shakily, and you press a hand to your face. 

 More flashes of black and red flashes in your vision, and for a moment, you see vials of medicine surrounding you, all wrongly-labelled. A woman appears above you, pouring poison into your mouth as you fight her with all you have got. You are weak and so small, and she holds you down until all the fight leaves you and she is forcing your mouth open to make you swallow more of the medicine. 

“Drink, sweetheart, it will make you feel better, ” she says. 

  “Mother…” You gasp out weakly, your lungs unable to fully support you. “What...have you done?” Your voice fades into a whisper. 

The woman brushes your hair from your forehead. “I’m making it better. Don’t worry, love, I will keep you safe. You know why?” 

  You stare at her weakly, trying to fight the grogginess from your eyes. 

  “Because I love you the most.” 

You push the flashback from your mind and force yourself up. You hated being sick. 

 You know that this is probably fever from fatigue, but you cannot bear it. It feels like you are young again, and you are helpless and dying. 

 A fever is a fever, but to you, it is a death sentence. A slight sniffle or a light cough is enough to send you panicking.

You let yourself cry, but when it is time to get out and back to work, the traces of your tears are gone and you put up your walls that you have spent so much time making. Nothing will come out. 

//

Tobirama feels relieved when he sees you come in, but you look worse for wear. You do not spare him your words, but that is fine with him. At least you are here. 

 He gives you your share of work for the day, and he does not say anything as you move away from him and take to one of the corners of the library to settle in. 

 Tobirama is great with silences, but he cannot stand yours. 

But he bears it because it seems like it is what you need today. 

When it is time to leave, he finds you asleep in the corner. He does not dare wake you, and he crouches in front of you to study you. His eyes go to the strands of your hair splayed on your sweaty forehead, and the frown etched upon it. He expects you to open your eyes and draw your blade to stab him, but you do neither. 

 He slowly puts the back of his hand on your forehead, and he realizes that you are sick. He studies your chakra, and he finds that it is a lot better than before. Though you are very exhausted to the bone. 

 He sits beside you, debating on what to do next. He knows he cannot leave you here, but he also does not want to alarm you. 

The new clock in the library ticks away loudly, and Tobirama looks to the waning light on the floor. 

 A sudden weight presses against his side and he feels his heart beat pick up as your head rests against his shoulder. 

He does not know what to do. Your weight on him does not bother him that much. 

He glances at you, and finally, he makes up his mind. 

//

“Brother, are you sure you are not pushing her too hard?” Hashirama asks with concern, his voice sounding both far away and near. 

 “Are you serious?” Tobirama defensively retorts. 

You open your eyes to the bickering Senju brothers, and you let out a groan. Their voices make your head throb. 

“Hey!” Hashirama chirps. “Welcome to our humble abode, again!” 

 You are dimly aware of Tobirama assisting you to sit up. “Uh…” You croak out with uncertainty.

“You are sick,” Hashirama announces. “And we’ve done all that we could, but your body is very exhausted. You must rest.”

You bring a hand to your forehead, remembering that you were in the library last time you were awake. 

 “Eat,” Tobirama commands, bringing a bowl of soup into your sights. 

Hashirama looks offended. “Tobirama! Be nice.” 

 You take the bowl of soup from Tobirama’s hands, briefly touching his warm fingers with your cold ones. 

Hashirama sits by the foot of the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight. 

“So,” Hashirama begins. “I took a look at you.” 

 You glance at the Hokage, wary. 

“Tobirama says there is an improvement in your chakra pathways, but last he checked, you were worse off,” Hashirama continues. “I undid some of the damage to make it easier for you, and we will have to do more gradually. I did not want to overwhelm you. With a lot of training along the way, you should be able to use your chakra with ease and be in top shape.”

You glance at the Hokage, feeling like the two Senju brothers have just invaded your space. Nonetheless, you thank Hashirama. 

  “I owe you one, Lord Hokage,” you tell him seriously, like you are taking an oath. 

Tobirama catches this and he frowns.

 Hashirama pats your knee. “Do not worry about it. I am happy to help.” He glances at Tobirama. “Though you should also thank him. He carried you all the way here and insisted that you are to be a priority.”

“Elder brother!” Tobirama scolds indignantly. He looks at you. “I don’t want your thanks. I just did what any other person would do to help someone who does not know self-preservation.” 

 “Tobirama, stop it.” Hashirama glares at his brother. 

You nod glumly, the fog in your mind still there. You stare at the soup and you take the spoon to scoop some. 

“Please take your time and stay here,” Hashirama heeds. “Do not worry too much about the work for the curriculum right now. Focus on your health.” 

You snap up to meet the Hokage’s eyes. “I don’t want to–”

 “Please, I insist,” Hashirama firmly says, squashing any room for questions or rebuttals. 

 You sigh, and you stare at the soup blankly. “Alright,” you give up. 

Tobirama’s eyes are on you, his stare burning through your head. Then, he walks out of there without another word. 

 Hashirama gives you a look of sympathy, and you look away, unable to bear it. 

 “We will see you later.” 

You set your bowl aside when the Hokage has left, and you lie back down. You pull your legs towards your body and close your eyes, willing away whatever is ailing you as if it is that simple. 

//

Tobirama refuses to even let you touch any of the work the next day, even though you did your best to prove to him that you are feeling well. The two of you hurl insults at each other, until Hashirama is coming in to break the two of you up, saying that the two of you are waking his children up so early in the morning. He mitigates by suggesting that you can do some light reading, and by sending Tobirama outside the house for errands. He is the Hokage’s right-hand man, after all. 

 For the most part, Tobirama leaves you alone, except he appears when it is time for you to eat. He stares at you intimidatingly until you finish every last drop and crumb of your food, and when you do, he stares at you some more, like he wants to sock you in the face, or as if staring will have some help to drive away your exhaustion. 

It is getting annoying by the end of the day, so you adamantly ask him to leave you alone. 

 Which he refuses. Stubbornly. 

 “Tobirama, please, I cannot do this right now,” you beg him. 

Tobirama’s jaw flexes. He walks over to you, but then he stops short, his movements twitchy and not at all him. 

 “Give me your arm,” Tobirama commands. 

 You scowl at him. “What now?” 

 “Just give me your arm!”

“Okay, okay!” You raise your arm towards him. 

 His fingers wrap around your wrist, and your eyes widen at the sight. It suddenly feels like your fever is back and you loathe it. 

“Tch,” Tobirama murmurs. “You’re an idiot. Why did you push yourself this hard? Couldn’t you have taken breaks?”

 You snatch your arm away from him, and you stare at your toes. 

Tobirama stares at you some more, and it is honestly creeping you out. What does he want? 

“What?” You snap. 

 Tobirama rolls his eyes. “Shut up and rest.” 

“I am not tired,” you stubbornly reply. “And I do not want to accumulate too much debt from the Senju brothers, so I should go.” 

Irritation flares in Tobirama’s eyes. “Stop it.”

 “Tobirama, give me a break.” 

 “No.” 

You want to scream, as this situation is becoming worse and worse. Tobirama is so overbearing, and it seems like he wants to keep track of everything you do. Your panic over being sick pales in comparison to how he is acting. 

The door opens to reveal Hashirama. 

 “Tobirama,” Hashirama calls, exasperated. “Leave her alone.”

 “Brother,” Tobirama chides, barely sparing his brother a glance. “I am talking to her right now.”

“No, no you are not,” Hashirama walks over to tug Tobirama away from you. “You are bullying her.” 

Hashirama manages to drag him to the threshold. “Why are you acting like this? Get a hold of yourself!” 

Tobirama tugs his arm away from his brother harshly, and he glares at his brother. Then, he glances at you. There is a lot of turmoil manifesting on his face–his lips are pulled into a straight, taut line, his jaw is tense, and his eyes, his red eyes are on fire, like coals burning in a forge. 

 The air tenses and becomes thick, but then he abruptly leaves and the air becomes calm again.

 Hashirama gives you an apologetic look and leaves you alone, and you are plunged into the dark again. 

 //

 Tobirama knows that he is being impossible, and it really is ridiculous, but when it involves you, it agitates him and there is this itch in his throat that he cannot alleviate. He thinks about what you will do next, and he wants to take it up to his brother, but he does not want you to get into further trouble. He would rather fix this himself and do what he needs to do to make sure that you are not a threat. If you are, then this is a matter he will have to take care of himself as well.

 He goes back to the school of blacksmiths and demands for Nuga, and when he gets him alone, he corners and questions him. 

“Talk,” Tobirama demands. 

 Nuga’s gray eyes regard the Hokage's younger brother. “About?”

 “Man-Killer, ” Tobirama grits his teeth. 

Nuga shakes his head and holds out a palm. “Be careful, Lord Tobirama. This is not a can of worms you’d like to open, though everything comes with a price.” 

Tobirama narrows his eyes, fishes out money and slams it on the man’s palm. “Talk, or I will see you in a cell.” 

 “You can’t hold me against my will without proof,” Nuga says. “And I only hold information, nothing criminal.” 

Tobirama keeps his cool and raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“She is an assassin,” Nuga starts. “Though she’s only killed corrupt lords and other rogues, robbers, and the like.”

 “Why is she here?” Tobirama asks.

 Nuga shrugs and smirks at the incoming pun. “Beats me. She says she’s turned over a new leaf.” 

 Tobirama remembers his hand on your wrist and your words. You are telling the truth. 

“Why Man-Killer?” Tobirama inquires. 

 Nuga holds out his palm. 

Tobirama sighs and presses a few more bills. 

Nuga leans forward as if this is some taboo to never be spoken of. “Rumor is, when she was a teenager, she killed a feudal lord’s son, who was a rapist. She has been on the run ever since. The feudal lord has a bounty out for her, but of course, no one wants to mess with a reputation preceding hers. She is quite the fighter, even I desire to someday see her in action.” 

Tobirama has seen her in action, and he believes this man. His head spins from thinking. So many pieces are falling into place and even if they fit, more questions start to arise. 

Nuga shrugs and he turns away. “That is all I can tell you. She seems very sincere about her clean slate though. Back then, I heard that if the price was right, she would do anything. She must have grown some morals.”

Tobirama stares hard at Nuga, and it does not take long until the room is thick with his power. The forge where fire runs hot and wild fizzles into nothing. 

“If you ever speak of this again, I will have your head,” Tobirama threatens. 

 “Of course, I would not want to mess with the people who protect her,” Nuga smiles coldly. “I’ll tell you one thing for free though.” 

Tobirama regards him coolly, squashing the mess that is cooking in his mind.

“If you are so ready to defend her and kill for her, you are way in too deep, Lord Tobirama,” Nuga warns. “She has got you in her palm, and she will crush you. She is not called ningen satsujin-sha for nothing.” 

Tobirama grits his teeth, but he says nothing back. His mind turns to think ahead, but his heart beats in protest. 

 However, he is not the kind of man to take the easy way. There is no such thing, in his life. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER EIGHT >>>]

[officerjennie]

Goodbye Kisses

(Prompted by myself on my birthday because help, I love them so much T^T) (Ko-fi and commission info in my blog header) 

--

It mattered not how many times they said goodbye, each time still broke another piece of his heart.

There were times Jaskier had ample warning. Days or even weeks to steel himself, to play the brilliant actor he prided himself to be. Ample time to remind himself quite sternly what he was to his witcher, his noble white wolf, the man who had swept into his life with all the flair and cheer of a beaten and tired mutt and had promptly and oh so very rudely stolen his heart.

A heart that many had attempted to steal in the past, might he add.

Those blessed days, hours, weeks - whatever time he had to fish his heart back from his sleeves and shove it back in his chest to be guarded like it had never wanted to be - they were all that saved him from certain embarrassment and rejection. For every single time, no matter that he knew it would end, he allowed himself to be a fool and believe that their journey would go onward. That every morning he could wake up bleary and far too late to his witcher grousing over their late start. That every afternoon would find him practicing his lute and songs while he danced his way down whatever trail laid before them, following after Roach’s twitching tail and the regal visage of Geralt, the most dearest man to his heart.

It was not one of those times, however.

“Leaving,” was the only grunted explanation he got as Geralt brushed past him, Jaskier left blinking after him where he stood still in the doorway to the room they’d planned on sharing for the next few days at the very least. It took far too many seconds for his thoughts to catch up to him, the silly grin he’d had frozen on his lips, laughter caught and dying in his throat.

“Wh- hold on, wait! Garelt!” Jaskier danced a little in the doorway, unsure of whether to take off after his companion given his own stuff was still strewn all about their room - everything but the lute strapped to his back and the smaller of his coin purses that he’d kept to collect the connected bar’s patron’s generous donations at his performance. With great effort he stopped staring after him, sweeping wide eyes about the room, already mourning the loss of what he couldn’t grab in the next 30 seconds: the blackberry wine he’d been planning on breaking out this very night would have to be abandoned, as well as much of his clothes - oh, it would cost him a small fortune to replace them all, and his heart cried even as he ran about and scooped up what little he could before stumbling right back out the door, regretting that last pint of ale as it left him fumbly and even dropping some of the precious few things he’d managed to stuff in his arms.

It was a miracle in and of itself that he didn’t bumble into anyone on his rush down the hall and stairs, and another that he managed the door by himself with his hands and arms otherwise occupied. At least no grace from the gods was required to find Geralt, all Jaskier needed to do was head straight for the stable that was attached to the inn.

“Geralt!”

He spotted his witcher just as Geralt was swinging his leg up and over Roach, the mare already saddled and packed and grouchy from being awoken far too early for her liking. She tried her best to reach back and nip at her burden even as Geralt nudged her forward, stopping her only after a few feet when Jaskier stumbled in front of them.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Gesturing with his arms so full of precious belongings was a bad idea but that didn’t occur to him until after he’d already done it, and attempting to catch the turquoise and emerald silk shirt only made him drop something else. “Dropping everything I own in the muck and grime is what I’m doing apparently - that was a gift, you know! A gift from my mother on her sick bed. Sure, sure, she recovered, but that’s not the point of things, Geralt, some warning would have been nice!”

“I’m leaving.”

“Oh, well darling, I didn’t notice, what with the whole storming out and straddling Ms. Nips-A-Lot - hey! No!” Roach knew exactly when he sassed about her and proved the name right, Jaskier barely dodging one of her hard nips that was aimed at his shoulder. It was luck and luck alone that kept all the rest of his things in his arms and far away from the mud below. “I meant advanced warning, Geralt, half a minute is not enough time for me to pack. And the least you could do is help me!”

Geralt grunted at him, and it was only thanks to their years of travelling together off and on that Jaskier could recognize it as his impatient grunt - which only made him want to huff indignantly, considering it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t get ready at the drop of a hat. But before he could properly huff at him Geralt slid off of Roach to help him.

Or...not. Instead of taking any of his stuff, or maybe opening one of the packs Roach was carrying, Geralt just oh so helpfully clapped Jaskier on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as he leaned down to meet Jaskier’s gaze - and just that simple act of holding his gaze had Jaskier’s heart in his throat. Melitele help him but those eyes would be the death of him. He could drown in the abyss of them, captured and held prisoner but hardly against his will, lost in a sea of amber and warmth many would think so unlike his dear withcer-

“I’m leaving, Jaskier. Not you.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Jaskier said, the fluttering thing in his stomach dropping like a stone. Well. Just like his witcher to put a damper on things.

“Too dangerous.”

“How is it any more dangerous than what we’ve already been through together?” Jaskier tried to not get too distracted when Geralt’s hand slipped from his shoulder and down his arm, still firm on him, making it unfairly difficult to muster up a decent argument as Geralt took his elbow and started to guide him back to the tavern entrance. “When we met I followed you straight towards a devil, remember? Sure it wasn’t an actual devil but neither of us knew any better-”

“Devils aren’t real, Jaskier.”

“-and I still followed you right along, and ended up perfectly fine! Oh, and remember the dragon? A dragon, Geralt, how on earth could anything out here in the middle of bloody nowhere could be more dangerous than a DRAGON?”

Geralt gave him a look that suggested he was being difficult on purpose. “I don’t slay dragons. There was never going to be a fight.”

Any further protests were put to a stop before they could continue, hardly even a stammered out start passing Jaskier’s lips before Geralt was opening the tavern door for him, giving a squeeze to his arm before dropping the contact between them. “Stay here, and out of trouble if you can manage it. I’ll come back.”

Normally, Jaskier would have made a fuss over the insinuation that he might gravitate towards trouble - because, really, it was the other way around. Not that the end results mattered much which way it worked. It came down to semantics, really, but Jaskier still would not have taken the insinuation without at least trying to set the record straight a little. But…

But his heart had not been normal of late, nor had his mind. And with no time to prepare for Geralt’s rather sudden departure he’d had no time to school his reactions, no time to remind himself how he’d normally do things: what he’d say, how exactly his hand or arm would flourish in gesture, what emotions he should allow into his tone without raising any sort of suspicion.

So it wasn’t exasperation that colored his tone, no played up hurt nor frustration to punctuate his words when Jaskier half-turned to look up at his witcher, breath almost catching at how even on a dreary day like this Geralt managed to look neigh on ethereal in his beauty - when all Jaskier managed to ask him was “When?”

When would he again be allowed to get lost within that heated gaze, time having little meaning, the world fading into the distance? When would his nights end in laughter rather than the drop after a performance, his high from the crowd leaving him at an incredible low, alone without his dearest witcher to keep his thoughts at bay and far away from the darkened sea they went to on their own? When would he know beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Geralt was safe and relatively unharmed, unmaimed at the very least, able to return to him at all?

“When I’m done.”

Ever the romantic to match his thoughts. Jaskier huffed out air through his nose, readjusting his grip on the mountain of things in his arms, Geralt’s blunt honesty cutting through his rather melodramatic mode decently enough. Not well enough to have him rid of all the rather sticky feelings that loved to pop up unbidden, but without the clouds that usually left him dampened in their presence all those sticky feelings left Jaskier feeling rather...wistful, and, dare he say, whimsical.

Perhaps his mother was onto something when she said his moods changed less like seasons and more flittered by like insects swarming in the summer heat.

If he had had perhaps even an hour to prepare for this goodbye, Jaskier would not have done anything so far removed from their normal interactions and behavior. But that time had not been given to him, and the warmth from Geralt’s hand could still be felt on his arm, and Jaskier’s heart was skipping beats in his chest knowing it was concern that had his witcher so set on going it alone - and seeing it clear as the dawn itself in those beautiful eyes of gold.

With as much grace as he could muster with his arms ladened so, Jaskier closed the short distance between him and his friend. He couldn’t tell if it was shocked surprise that held Geralt still or not, or what kept him from jerking away as he’d always expected him to if Jaskier had ever dared to be so bold, but Geralt did not move back - and Jaskier found his lips brushing against the silver stubble on his cheek, rough against his own chapped skin but it barely registered against the thundering heartbeat that sounded in his ears.

A light kiss to his cheek was all he managed, and it amazed him long into the night that he found his voice past it all. “Be careful, darling.” Being so close to him Jaskier saw Geralt’s breathing stutter at the endearment, and like a good storyteller he took careful note of that and squirreled it away for later, leaning back away just enough to look up and catch the way Geralt was looking at him. “I’d hate to be a bard with no company.”

Upon reflection, getting to see his oh so completely and frustratingly composed witcher shift his weight nervously after such a simple thing was more than worth the slip in his own emotional composure. Even the muddied belongings were worth it when weighed against the delayed grunt of response, the flickering gaze towards Jaskier and away again, and the sudden start to Geralt’s movements that finally started him back towards Roach without another word.

Maybe goodbyes weren’t the worst after all if they involved such an adorably flustered boy (and, Jaskier thought, his own gaze flickering downward shamelessly, it never really was a burden to watch him walk away).

[elisaphoenix13]

Once Upon A Summer (Ch.1)

This first chapter is for @chocopiggy (thanks for the commission, and hope it's to your liking)! This actually won't be connected to the Mama Bear AU, but Stephen will always be a mom in my heart. 😂

It all started because of an alert that Tony received from Friday. It wasn't one that told him that Peter was in danger...just that something had happened with his suit. Maybe a malfunction? Friday couldn't tell him either but she made sure to let him know that the teen was safe. When Tony checked Peter's location, his eyebrow shot up.

"What the hell is he doing out of Queens?" He mumbles to himself.

When the little dot shows no signs of moving, Tony walks over to his balcony and suits up to go check on the teen. Peter never really left Queens and if he did, it was to visit Tony. Well...until now that is. Peter now permanently resided in the tower penthouse with Tony and now the roles were kind of switched. He patrolled on the way to Queens, stayed there for a few hours, and then made his way back to the tower. Then again, Greenwich Village wasn't really out of the way. Maybe Peter followed a perp in that direction and...got lost.

Tony was even more confused when he landed in front of a building that he knew housed a couple of sorcerers he only really knew about. He never actually met them but he supposed now was as good a time as any if his tracker was accurate. He stepped forward and knocked on the door, and the door opened to let him in.

"Great. Place is haunted." Tony says as he walks in.

"It took you long enough." A voice says and he looks to the side to find one of the sorcerers.

He was the first thing Tony noticed because press photos didn't do Stephen Strange justice. He was much more attractive in person and Tony could feel butterflies in his chest. Not his stomach, because that would just mean he was nervous, but his chest...it warmed. It had a tingly feeling that was nice and unconcerning for a change. Stephen's eyes were beautiful and it was even more attractive to see him make butterflies fly around...a baby? A baby wearing the Ironspider suit…

"What did you do to my kid?!" Tony accuses immediately.

"Not me. Another sorcerer." Stephen dispels the butterflies he had been keeping baby Peter occupied with. "He was caught in a crossfire of spells and this happened."

"The enemy tried to turn you into a baby?" Tony asks.

"I have no idea. Possibly. Or he was hit with a different spell that affected him differently."

Stephen carefully picks up Peter, who looked to be about six months old, and carries him over to Tony. He wasn't sure what to do with a baby, but he took him regardless and Peter cooed as he reached for Tony's sunglasses.

"Why haven't you changed him back?"

"This is something that needs to wear off on its own." Stephen replies with a sigh.

"How long will that take?" Tony asks suspiciously.

"Anywhere from weeks to months."

Tony balks. "What?! No! I'm in no way qualified to take care of a baby. At least for that long! You're a better option Doc."

"I'm a neurologist Stark. Not a pediatrician."

"I'm sure you've made the rounds though." Tony says and moves his head back a little to keep Peter away from his sunglasses. "This is partially your fault."

"He'll be fine." Stephen huffs.

"What if there are some magical side effects?" Tony counters. "That's apparently your area of expertise and you have to help until he's back to normal. I swear if he grows a tail-"

"He's not going to grow a tail."

Tony could practically see the thoughts running through Stephen's head and he watched as the sorcerer finally sighed. They both knew Tony was right and that Stephen had to take some kind of responsibility for what happened. If some magical side effect came up, Stephen would be the one to deal with it, and he kind of was a better choice to take care of a baby. Tony was willing to do what he could, but there was very little he knew about babies.

"Alright. I'll check in every day." Stephen acquiesces. "Fortunately it seems his powers are dormant so neither of us will need to pry an infant from the ceiling." He points at the baby. "He's been diapered and fed but he'll likely be hungry again soon. I'd get baby supplies if I were you."

"Guess we're going shopping, Doc."

"...we?"

"Who's the medical doctor here?" Tony huffs. "I know less than you do about child rearing. I'm not sure what to feed him or anything like that!"

Stephen answers with another sigh and nods. With some magic, he changes into some normal clothes and walks over to the front door. It was enough of an answer for Tony and he followed Stephen out of the Sanctum and to the nearest store that sold baby items. From food to furniture. Which happened to be a Target. To Tony's relief, Peter was old enough to sit up by himself so he could sit in the shopping cart and Tony's arms could get a break. Stephen simply led the way to the furniture items first and both men looked at the collection apprehensively.

"Am I the only one who feels like we stepped in some strange land?" Tony jokes.

"Good to know it's not just me." Stephen mumbles. "I may have worked with babies before but that doesn't mean I know what half of this stuff is."

"Bare essentials then." Tony grins and grabs a set of plastic keys that they walk by and he hands them to Peter. "Here you go kid."

Peter babbles as he accepts the keys, immediately stuffing them into his mouth, and both Stephen and Tony watch as some drool drips from the baby's mouth.

"Bibs." They say in unison.

"Oh, you know what those are?" Stephen asks immediately after and Tony rolls his eyes.

"Oh very funny wizard."

"Sorcerer...and it's Stephen."

Tony smirks. "I know. I like watching your eyebrow twitch when I call you wizard though."

"You would." The younger man scoffs.

"So what's the bare minimum I need? Crib?" Tony asks, changing the subject.

Stephen shrugs. "I suppose you could buy a portable changing pad to change him on instead of getting a table."

Tony winces. Right. Peter wasn't currently potty trained anymore and the thought of changing him made him a little uncomfortable. He didn't know how to change a diaper in the first place and he didn't raise Peter from birth. His kid was just a temporary baby…

"It's going to have to happen eventually." Stephen says, as if reading his mind.

Maybe he was.

"Maybe a playpen too. It's portable and it can keep him out of trouble if you have to take your eyes off of him to make dinner." Stephen continues.

"That's definitely coming." Tony says as he grabs the box to throw in the cart.

Stephen, meanwhile, stands in front of Peter and gently sticks his thumb in the baby's mouth. Peter babbles around the sorcerer's finger and Tony watches curiously as Stephen gently opens his mouth. It was clear the doctor was looking for something, but before he could ask, Stephen removed his finger, earning an audible protest from the mini human. When it became clear that Peter wasn't getting the finger back, he turned his attention back to his plastic keys as Stephen grabbed another toy off the rack.

"He's at the age where his teeth are coming in." Stephen finally explains. "You can put this in the freezer and also get some teething gel to numb his gums. You might be in for some long nights."

"Not like I have a regular sleeping schedule anyway." Tony bemoans.

"If you're lucky, a little gel before bedtime should do the trick."

They finish up in the baby department by grabbing some bibs, toys, burping cloths, bottles, and even a sippy cup before heading to the area of the store with the food and diapers. Stephen showed him what size diaper Peter would need, the cereal and fruit purees he could try feeding him, and also grabbed formula. It was still important at his age since it had the nutrients a baby needed. Once they finished by grabbing some wipes, they had to go back to the previous baby section because they realized they had forgotten to grab clothes. Onesies, pajamas, tiny shirts and tiny pants...Tony couldn't decide whether to freak out, tear up, or laugh when he saw the socks because it was a reminder that Peter was currently tiny and fragile and was relying solely on Tony (and Stephen) to survive.

He considered buying bubble wrap.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this...but kids are expensive." Tony remarks as they wait in line.

"Incredibly. People do it multiple times too."

"They can't be trusted." Tony jokes. "Anybody who puts themselves through that over and over again are closet sadists."

"You're an idiot." Stephen rolls his eyes as Tony unloads the cart onto the belt.

The cashier, and even a few nearby customers, gave them both a curious glance but nothing more was said. Probably because it was him buying baby stuff and was accompanied by another man. Fortunately they were in a day and age where for the most part, people didn't bat an eye when they saw a child with a same gender couple. Of course, Tony decided that he was going to have fun with it and looked over at Stephen who had grabbed a magazine to flick through.

"Honey, can you grab the keys from-" The billionaire is promptly interrupted when Stephen rolls up the magazine and smacks Tony with it before tossing it on the belt as well.

Peter found it hilarious and laughed which made Stephen smile and Tony to get that fuzzy feeling in his chest again.

"You can pay for that too since I had to resort to ruining it." Stephen huffs and gently takes the keys from Peter.

It was a quick ordeal. Peter had the super strength that every baby seemed to have when they didn't want something taken from them, and when Stephen finally won, his lower lip wobbled dangerously. The doctor held out the toy so it could be scanned without the cashier having to touch the drool covered keys, and then given back to Peter before his fussing could turn into full blown crying. Stephen may have some experience with children but it was like he was made to be a parent.

It kind of turned Tony on.

Which was weird? Sort of. He appreciated both men and women, and he and Pepper broke it off for the final time a while ago so it wasn't like he was in a relationship. But he barely knew Stephen. All he knew was what the tabloids had of him on his work, his car accident that ended his career, and then his supposed disappearance. Tony only knew about Stephen's new "career" because of chance. They very briefly fought together when Stephen had a mystical threat to take care of and Tony had been in the area, but everything happened so quickly that he didn't get a proper look at the sorcerer or a proper conversation.

Tony didn't mind looking at all.

"Do you mind?" Stephen suddenly asks, holding up a chocolate bar.

Tony motions to the belt. "Not at all."

"We should get water too. I didn't feed Peter so I'm sure he's getting hungry." Stephen says as he places the chocolate on the belt and grabs a couple of water bottles from the small fridge nearby.

"Oh, yeah. Good idea. I don't think those keys will keep him occupied much longer."

It didn't take long for the items to get scanned and for Tony to pay, but when they got outside, he realized his predicament. He flew to Greenwich Village in his suit. He couldn't fly back with a baby and all of the items he suddenly accrued. But then Stephen directed him to the side of the store where they would be out of sight and opened a portal. To his kitchen at the tower from the looks of it. Tony was a little uncomfortable with the idea of using magic to get home, but it was efficient and he didn't want to be caught in the middle of New York with a baby in the dark. The sun had nearly set.

So he takes a deep breath and gets the purchases through the portal as Stephen carefully pulls Peter out of the cart and walks through the portal. Tony had the mind to return the cart to a nearby corral before following the sorcerer through, and he watches as Stephen looks around the penthouse as the portal closes behind Tony.

"A playpen was a good idea." Stephen finally says. "This isn't exactly a baby friendly environment."

"I should probably set that up." Tony says. "I have a feeling holding him doesn't feel too good on your hands."

"Let me make him a bottle first."

Stephen hands Peter to Tony and digs through the bags on the counter to fish out the needed items to make him a bottle. Tony made sure to watch closely and listen to the amounts Stephen said to feed Peter and soon enough, the sorcerer took the baby back and sat on the couch with him where he handed Peter the bottle. He fortunately didn't have any trouble holding it himself and was able to drink from it while Stephen held him on one of his legs and Tony set up the playpen and the crib. The latter he was told to set up in his bedroom.

When he finished (to his enormous relief, there were some things he never cared to put together again), he exited his room to find the tv on a child friendly cartoon and Peter bouncing happily on Stephen's knee while he watched the pretty colors fly across the screen. What was surprising was seeing the younger man looking so content as he wipes Peter's mouth with one of the burping cloths. No irritation. No expressions to betray that he hated every second of this. In fact, Tony was pretty sure Stephen was enjoying it.

"Want to stay for dinner?" Tony blurts out and Stephen's head snaps up in surprise. He recovers quickly and shakes his head.

"I have things I need to do. Thank you though." Stephen gets up with Peter and holds him out for Tony to take. "I'll come by tomorrow."

"Alright," Tony replies, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "See you then."

"Good night."

And he was gone through another portal. Just like that.

"Bud…" Peter looks at him and Tony smirks. "I think you're going to end up being my little wingman."

[magioftheseas]

Sonia & Yasuke

Summary: Sonia Nevermind’s FTEs in the SDR2 Protagonist Matsuda Yasuke AU. FUCK YES. A slightly divergent take on the originals.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Language. Brief discussions of cults and kidnapping.

Notes: Sonia was neck and neck with Tanaka for the poll and I was going to do hers soon anyway, so I just went ahead. Sometimes, life just shakes out that way. I really do love Sonia so much. The bias is strongest for Sonia, so I really hope I did her justice. Only the best for our kween. (Btw, the formatting for this couldn’t fully carry through so some stylistic choices on Ao3 are absent here.)

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

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He supposed he had been in an antsier mood than usual. In one hand, he read his manga. In the other, he played with and twirled around a pen. He’s practiced enough that he doesn’t need to look. It’s just something for his other hand to do. Something that would, ideally, work off some jitters.

He had almost been too worked up to read. Unfortunately, he’s still having a hard time trying to get into the book. He can’t tell if it’s because the story is dragging itself or because he’s just not in the right headspace. What a nuisance.

He catches the pen between his knuckles, tapping the end against the table. A surprised gasp. A round of applause. Matsuda glances over his book to meet the beaming face of a certain princess. Even in a hotel this cafeteria this tacky, she shone like a precious jewel.

What a nuisance. Except—

“So impressive, Matsuda-san!” she squealed. “You truly have fury skillz, yo!”

I guess of all the people here, she’s the most tolerable.

“Impressive, huh,” he mused. “I could probably twirl a scalpel, too.”

“Ooh!” Sonia clasped her hands. “Matsuda-san! Will you perform?!”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to risk cutting my fingers just to show off. I’ll twirl the pen some more.”

“Oh, I understand...” Quieting, Sonia still watched him twirl with intent eyes. It’s like he’s center stage at an opera house. Sonia hums and her fingers even twitch along. “Matsuda-san, such talented fingers... I truly do applaud you.”

Matsuda flipped the pen, catching it before it fell to the ground. Sonia let out another gasp and clapped some more, giggling.

“Bravo, bravo!”

Jeez. She’s so likable that it’s sickening.

It’s almost like he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter should the two of them become friends.

I guess...there are worse relationships to be forced into. Even if I already have a headache.

Still, the mood couldn’t help but be lightened whenever Sonia laughed. Scary.

--

His fingers were a bit aching, and holding a cold drink alleviated some of the stinging. Sonia, ever the prim and proper young lady with her mouth shut, simply sipped tea from across the table. The picture of elegance. Even in a cafeteria this tacky.

But it’s not like any location short of the azure sky and sapphire ocean could do someone like her justice.

“This island truly is sublime,” Sonia hummed. “The weather is always so serene, and the ocean is as blue as it is endless! Truly! It’s a perfect resort, wouldn’t you say, Matsuda-san?”

“I don’t know if I’d go as far as to say perfect,” he replied. “There’s a little too much fucking walking. I’m not big on sweating.”

Even if big hospitals had fancier equipment, I still hated having to rush back and forth.

“To be more contained can have its benefits,” Sonia agreed good-naturedly. “Still, I must say I am quite happy with what we have.”

Matsuda hummed right back.

Happy...

“Situation could be better,” he said. “Would really fucking love if we weren’t being held hostage by a homicidal fucking bear.”

“Indeed,” Sonia agreed solemnly. “Quite regrettable.”

Matsuda waited for her to continue, but she merely took another elegant sip. Still the picture of calm. Sonia’s eyes do flicker open and it’s then that Matsuda takes notice of the color. They’re a clear, soft green. It’s a unique shade. One he thinks he’s only seen in...

“As long as no murders take place, everything will be alright,” Sonia spoke with conviction. “What happens next...will depend on our own inclinations and choices.”

I shouldn’t compare them too much.

“That’s a reductive way of looking at it,” he said. “Even if we have the resolve, I don’t doubt that our hands are going to be forced.”

Sonia slammed her cup onto the table. It cracked just the slightest bit.

“Then, we should cooperate with one another so that we can return home as quickly as we can,” she said sunnily. “Matsuda-san, I trust you to tell me any ideas you may come up with. I shall do what I can.”

“Well...” Matsuda directed his stare towards one of the security cameras. “We’d first have to come up with something to do about those.”

“If we simply shattered them, we would get punished severely,” Sonia recalled, lamenting as she did. “We would have to act... And perhaps...”

She dropped into lower mumbles that Matsuda couldn’t make out. Perhaps out of precaution, in case they were being recorded. Matsuda watches her sink deeper and deeper into thought.

Even she can’t be serene and optimistic all the time. She’s still managing better than anyone else here.

“Do you understand, Matsuda-san?” she asked, tone serious. “Or must I repeat myself?”

“If you did, it’d have to be a little louder, so it’d be better if you could write it down discretely and pass it to me later,” he said, sighing. “It’s a little too risky discussing anything out in the open.”

Sonia clapped with glee.

“A handsome remark! This is why I know I can rely on your intelligence and wit, Matsuda-san.” She gave a few nods of approval. “It might be better for our moral to chat amiably for now.” With a dazzling smile, she then inquired, “Is there anything you’d like to ask of me?”

Matsuda blinked at her.

“Not really.” I am curious about one thing. Given the circumstances, it’s best to hold off on that. “What about you?”

“There is something! That I AM quite curious about!” Sonia exclaimed, suddenly excited. “Who has captured your heart? And who do you plan to settle on?!”

Matsuda stared.

“...?”

His head tilted in confusion, so Sonia went on to explain.

“This situation—it is similar to The Summer Story of Seven Men and Seven Women, wouldn’t you say?! The standard practice, then, is to start wavering and swapping partners!”

“The...J-drama?” he asked, no less confused but Sonia was more incited regardless.

“No just the J-drama, the legendary J-drama! The original trendsetter! Starting with an upbeat tone... Before shifting to surprisingly serious!” she swooned. “I couldn’t believe my eyes, and yet I couldn’t look away! Momoko’s feelings...! Wow, so intense!”

“Uh-huh...” Matsuda’s eyes rolled back. “Well... I’m not sleeping with anyone on this stupid fucking island, so it’s not going to be that similar. That, and there are more guys here than girls to begin with...”

“That is true!” Sonia gasped. “Someone will have to be unlucky! I wonder... Who it will be...?”

Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to...? Not to mention some of the guys flat-out wouldn’t be interested. Although I don’t think that’ll keep someone from being unlucky, huh...

It looked like he wouldn’t get in another word in edgewise.

This still isn’t going to fix the declining birthrate.

At least Sonia seemed to be having a hella time theorizing. Matsuda just let her...do that.

--

“I managed to find a couple of books on Novoselic,” he said, setting the stack of books on the table before a sparkly-eyed Sonia. “Since we don’t have the internet, this was the best I could scrounge up and even then I don’t know if they’re all that accurate.”

“Oh, Matsuda-san, I would have told you anything you needed to know!” She does take one of the books. “That said, I recognize this author. You can trust them! Oh, but this one...” She takes another, frowning. “If I recall... No. You should not trust this one at all. In fact, I would burn every copy of this book.”

“I could kind of tell from the tone,” Matsuda hummed, setting it apart and pushing it far away. Sonia’s frown was still a deep mar on her face. “So, these books are accurate?”

“As I have said, Matsuda-san, I do not mind telling you about my country,” she said, smiling again. “Or! Is this courting? I’m afraid I will have to sadly decline, much as this feels like something out of a J-drama...”

She says while looking disappointed in herself...

“It’s more that I thought you should know what other people are writing about your country,” he said. He paused. “Ah, I guess that was pretty presumptuous of me.”

“Not at all!” Sonia shook her head. “Awareness and control of the media are essential! Not to mention you have informed me of quite the pressed issue! I will have to take care of it when I return...is what a responsible, attentive ruler would say.” She sighed. “Sadly, I will have to inform others and hope for the best.”

She has said in the past that she’s more of a figurehead than a leader.

“That’s a part of being young,” he remarked. “Don’t let it get you down too much. Just prepare for the future to the best of your ability.”

Sonia does giggle at that.

“Matsuda-san... Sometimes, you remind me of the male lead in a J-drama.”

“No comment.”

She laughs again. “In my humblest opinion, the best J-dramas are the ones aimed at women between the ages of 20 to 34. Just before Japan’s economic bubble burst! You would not believe how many times I have seen I Will Arrest Your Eyes! Why, when I first arrived in Japan, the first thing I did was run across the Spain-zaka!”

As fascinating as that all is, what gets my attention is...

“Hold it. Were you calling me mature or were you suggesting that I speak like an old man?”

“You certainly do have a worldly weariness to you, Matsuda-san,” Sonia went on to sigh. “Broody and broken down by life... While it would be attractive on the screen, it is worrisome and exhausting in person.” She perked right back up. “But have no fear! For a fairly dreamy maniac will someday come into your life! And the two of you can partake in the ritual entrapped within the blizzard!”

“I hate the cold,” is Matsuda’s only reply to whatever the fuck all of that was.

“Then when will you cuddle under a blanket in the nude?!” Sonia gasped, aghast. “Will you do so at a different temperature?! Is the blizzard not necessary after all?!”

“First off, you’re referring to a cliché rather than a ritual,” Matsuda said, waving his hand. “Shouldn’t the fact that it was happening during a damn blizzard tipped you off? Not every couple is going to go to the fucking mountains.”

“So...” Sonia quieted. “It is not like the Makango?”

The Makango? Matsuda remembered. Ah, the Makango.

“We don’t have anything like that as far as I’m aware,” he said. “Mind you, I’m...not aware of much...”

Thinking about this gives me a headache. Actually, it really, really fucking hurts right now.

“I see...” Sonia pursed her lips. “So peculiar. Oh!” She blinked, realizing. “Matsuda-san, you look pale.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his forehead with a wince. “I think... I’m gonna check out.”

“You should check out what’s wrong with you!” she exclaimed. “Do better for yourself, Matsuda-san!”

“...right.”

On that note, there wasn’t anything else to do but stumble out.

--

It’s another calm day at the library. Sonia, however, snaps up immediately when Matsuda walks inside. It’s scary how alert the princess is, but that was probably a good thing considering her situation. Matsuda sighed, waving and taking in how she lit up and eagerly saluted him.

He also takes notice of the book that Sonia had been reading. The cover—looks quite gruesome.

“How are you feeling?” Sonia asked kindly. “You are not in pain, yes? Matsuda-san?”

“I’m doing fine,” he said, stretching as he makes his way over. “I’ve been dealing with headache after headache since I got here, so I’ve gotten used to them.”

“I see,” Sonia murmured, downcast and sympathetic. “I will trust you to your own mechanics.”

“Devices,” Matsuda corrected without thinking as he seated himself. “Anyway, I’ll be reading. Don’t mind me.”

He does pull out a manga he brought with him—the library was just a better environment for reading than the cafeteria hence him making the trip. He cracks it open, but he doesn’t get very long to enjoy it. He gets maybe five minutes before there’s a nudge at his side.

He ignores it, but Sonia elbows him with enough force that he nearly yelps. With a now throbbing side, his gaze drops to see a folded-up piece of paper tucked between Sonia’s delicate fingers. Her nails are perfectly manicured yet polished to give off the illusion of natural beauty.

Hm.

He takes the paper, unfolding it and—

What do you know about the occult?

Sonia is feigning innocence. She’s scarily good at it. If not for the flicker of her intense stare to his, he wouldn’t have suspected a thing. That...and his side still...stings. Seriously the princess had a bony fucking elbow.

“Princess. What the hell is this?”

“Shush!” she ordered and he dutifully shut his mouth without a second thought. Sonia looked around discretely, lowering her voice as she leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Any information you have on cults would also be appreciated, Matsuda-san.”

No, seriously, what the fuck?

He does try to make sense of it. If Sonia felt the need to convey these questions inconspicuously, then, maybe—?

He takes out a pen and writes down his response. He hands it under the table for Sonia to read.

Do you think our kidnappers are part of a cult?

“Oh!” Sonia gasped. “I never thought of that! What a fascinating theory!”

Guuuuuuess not.

“If it just interests you, you don’t have to be so fucking secretive,” he griped. “Just ask me outright like a normal fucking person.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I truly didn’t think the way I was conducting myself was...regal. They pass notes like so in the dramas. Is that not normal behavior, Matsuda-san?”

Oh.

“I...no, actually...” Matsuda shrugged helplessly. “I...guess that is in fact a way high schoolers communicate sometimes...”

I haven’t gone to a normal high school...or a normal middle school for that matter.

“It is quite—unheard of if not prohibited for a princess to have such interests,” Sonia sighed. “But even if it is forbidden, my heart still longs for more when it comes to the subject of Freemasonry! Oh, but it’s purely academic!” She looks quite serious as she insists, “I could never dream of conspiring against the government.”

“A lot of people do find that stuff interesting,” Matsuda said. Sonia lit up only to deflate when he added, “I don’t think it’s that deep.”

“No?” Her head tilted. “You think it...kiddy?”

“In a way,” he admitted. “Cultism comes about through societal failings and instability. Political turmoil, lack of education, paranoia, peer pressure... People long for a sense of community by nature and they’re drawn to a charismatic figure who knows how to prey on the insecure and vulnerable. People just want someone else to tell them what to do, what to think, like fucking children and obviously, obviously, they get taken advantage of by the worst fucking types...”

Sonia’s eyes were wide.

“Oh! Matsuda-san, have you been in a cult before?!”

Matsuda immediately jolted. For some reason, he broke into a sweat. For another, his head hurt so much that he wanted to shut down then and there.

“...Matsuda-san?”

He needed to grip his hand and will them to stop shaking.

“...I... No.” He shook his head firmly, digging his nails into his arm, would’ve raked them through the flesh if not for the sleeve of his coat. “It’s, uh, just something I read one time.”

“You are looking quite pale,” Sonia remarked worriedly. “I apologize, Matsuda-san. I—think we should drop the subject for now. I do not wish to cause you untoward pain any longer.”

She draws back from him as if he’s too fragile to be near. It’s seriously annoying, especially when not only does Sonia look stricken with guilt, she also looks lonely.

“I...” He swallowed. “While I don’t think much of it, I do think it’s important to understand. It isn’t productive to just...dismiss it wholesale.”

Sonia does perk up.

“I agree,” she says, albeit tentative as she does. “To dismiss a different sense of values due to ignorance is foolish. Such ignorance leads to bloodshed. And—it is important for a member of the royal to expand one’s knowledge.”

He nods.

“I just...” He wants to bite his tongue clean off. “I guess it’s a sore subject for me...”

But w̴̟̹̠͐̿̋ḧ̶̟́y̷̘͓͛?

“I understand.” Sonia nodded back. “I apologize.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Just...do what you can to guide your people right.”

With that, he gets up.

“Sorry,” he said, acting on autopilot now. “I need to go.”

He doesn’t look back.

--

“Oh, Matsuda-san!”

As usual, Sonia looked delighted to see him.

“What a pleasant surprise!” she exclaimed, every word dripping with sincerity. “Come, come! Sit with me! There is much I wish to discuss with you!”

“Yeah?” The closer he comes, the more she can see her stack of books. Quite a few of them have been shoved away, but the other titles—there actually seemed to be a couple of romance novels and recognizable manga. “What about...?”

Those are titles that have been adapted into TV dramas.

“The friendship between men and women as depicted in Turn On The Heart,” she explained. “If you do not know that title, then will a different J-drama suffice? Perhaps one of these?”

She offers one of the manga. Her intentions are clear, and he truly appreciates the gesture—but he’s read that title. It was one of the worst fucking things he ever skipped through. The love interest in it was just scary. And he was a spoiled rich brat. Urgh.

But the princess really isn’t that bad. She’s really trying to get along with me. Not a lot of people have done that unless they wanted in my pants or something.

He’s not so fucking full of himself that he’d assumed a goddamn princess would be interested. That, and he’s conscientious of that shit to begin with. Sonia was just friendly, not flirty.

“I do mostly read manga,” he said. “I guess I could recommend a title or two that’s been adapted?”

I haven’t watched a lot of dramas actually. I’ve had them going on in the background, but that’s...

His sharp eyes do notice the titles that Sonia had pushed away. They were various studies on cults throughout history. And an anthology on ghost stories.

“Matsuda-san.” When Sonia spoke, her tone was low. She stood up and bowed, making him jump. “I wish to sincerely apologize from the bottom of my heart! If I could, I’d throw myself at your feet! Alas, it’s improper for a princess...! I’m so fucking sorry!”

“Wow.” He didn’t even know how to respond. “If this is about what happened last time, it’s fine. It’s water under the bridge. I...”

I actually—don’t remember what happened. I ended up taking a lot more pills than I should’ve.

“Still!” Sonia exclaimed, shaking her head. “I asked you a very inappropriate question! It was quite uncouth! Thus—I wish to make out with you for it!”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, meaning it figuratively and literally. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?!” Sonia’s frown deepened. “I... Despite my status, here I would like to be equals, Matsuda-san. Is that not possible?”

Equals, huh.

“When I came to Japan, I thought I could be considered a normal girl,” she said, and it sounded like a confession. “Perhaps...that had been...immature of me.”

It is immature, Matsuda agreed with as he bit his tongue. It’s beyond fucking immature. Even if you learn the language and go along with trends, you live in a fucking castle, Sonia. That’s not normal at all. Normal people are one bad fucking month away from losing everything they care about. It’ll take more than a damn month for a monarchy to topple. Especially one that’s absolute.

“If you insist so much, can I ask you a question?” He studied the way she perked up. How annoyingly eager she was to hear it. And how he—“It’s not going to be a pleasant one.”

“As long as it is about my personal inclinations or government secrets, I am willing to speak about it,” she told him, smiling sweetly.

She really was so painfully sweet sometimes.

Ä̷̮̖͇́̅̅͝ ̷̬̎̽c̴̨̛̥̳̙̔̈̊ͅo̵͕̤͠ṃ̵̻̒ͅp̸̭͕̽͝l̸͍͈͎̀è̶̛̝̫̒͗͝t̸̗͒̂̐e̴̛̳͔̾͐ ̵̧̼̐ô̸̞͇̖͋̽̀́ͅp̵͉̘͗̅̍͝p̴̖̙͑̊̒̆o̸̧͙̹̘̠͂s̴͈̀̕ị̶͇̅͛͝t̶͉͊e̴̲͈̩̫͠ ̴͔̺͔̙͗́̓̓̋f̶̺͂̚͘r̴̛̘̾͝o̶͍̭̯̖͐̐̓͛m̶̳͑̋—̷̱̘̩͙͓̇͒̏̋̉

“This isn’t your first time being kidnapped.”

It hadn’t been a question, despite himself. But a statement. A statement that drained all that sweetness from Sonia’s face, leaving behind calm stoicism. She looks so at ease and unshakeable that Matsuda could draw several conclusions if he wanted to.

But it seems tacky to make assumptions about what were traumatic experiences, regardless of those involved.

“I’ve read up on your country and there were reports of the royal family being abducted by insurgents,” he said, keeping his voice level. “It hadn’t mentioned those affected by name...but you were among them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Sonia spoke as if she were untouchable. “I was.”

“No wonder you’re so damn calm about all this,” Matsuda went to remark. “It’s not your first time. And...quite fucking frankly, this is literally the Bahamas of hostage situations.”

“Haha, I do not think we are in the Bahamas, Matsuda-san,” she replied, casual—but still with that flaring distance. “I believe we are in the middle of the Pacific, rather.”

...hah.

“That’s not important,” he snapped. “What was important was... Clearing the air, so to speak.”

“I see.” Sonia agreed with him like he’d kill her if she didn’t. “Then, have I been to your satisfaction, Matsuda-san?”

Matsuda stared at her. He reached out, and she didn’t even flinch. Not even when he snapped his fingers in front of her. Impressive, honestly.

She’s completely shut down.

“Do you want to talk about dramas? I kind of enjoyed Hana-Kimi.”

Sonia blinked, and it was like nothing happened at all. Especially with how she went back to smiling as she always did, dazzlingly open and amicable.

“I haven’t heard of it! Please tell me all about it!”

“If I remember correctly there were like, four adaptations, the first Taiwanese and the most recent a K-drama, actually, so...”

The two of them chat lightly like this for a while. Like a normal pair of high schoolers.

--

“Greetings, Matsuda-san! I have read the illustrious Hana-Kimi! And! I enjoyed it!”

“Good to hear...”

“There is much I wish to discuss about it!” Sonia exclaimed, but there was something strange. Her smile was so wide it looked strained. She was wearing more makeup than usual, especially on her cheeks and around the eyes. “I would also like to hear more recommendations, so...”

“Rough night?” Matsuda asked, and Sonia shut her mouth.

For a second, Sonia looked lost before she gave a weak laugh.

“Ahaha, I should’ve known that Matsuda-san would not be fooled. You’re quite sharp, after all. It’s one of the reasons I admire you.”

“Did you want me to pretend nothing was wrong?” Matsuda huffed. “I’d rather you not have to force yourself around me. With how shitty my attitude is, I’d be a hypocrite if I expected everyone on their best behavior....especially in this situation.”

“Truth be told, I do not mind it,” Sonia murmured. “In a way... I find it refreshing. Around Matsuda-san, I can just scream at the top of my lungs—Jesus Fucking Christ Bastard Of A Fuckity Fuck Bitch! And you wouldn’t bat a tongue-lash!” She took a deep breath. “That said...if we are to discuss further. I’d prefer we do so in my cottage.”

“Fine by me,” was Matsuda’s immediate response. That was all there was to it.

Without another word, he followed Sonia to her cottage. She led him inside, and the interior was so fancy that he felt like he’d be stoned if he didn’t remove his shoes right away.

Polished floors, elegant rugs, ivory silk sheets, and plush furniture—even a damn chandelier hanging about them... It at least looked like the inside of a high-end hotel suite. Even the way plants were arranged from the ones hanging from the wall to the potted plant in the corner and the vase on the table by a wide-screen television felt so prestigious and artful.

“Would you like a seat?” Sonia asked, indicating a loveseat that definitely costed more than he could get selling his ass on the street for a week. He sits down on it anyway. It’s annoying supple, and he can’t help but relax. Sonia is giggling at him, “I apologize for any messes. I am still getting a handle on cleaning as it were. And the shower.”

The rug had been a little damp under his feet. She must’ve accidentally flooded the floor. He should probably help her wash it so that it didn’t contract mold, but... There were more pressing matters.

Sonia clearly wanted to speak to him, but she was just standing there. Fidgeting and wavering.

“Nightmare?” he guessed. “Homesickness?”

“Both,” Sonia replied, chuckling a little. “As well as—that conversation we had earlier...weighing on my mind...”

Matsuda clicked his tongue but said nothing. Gave Sonia the time to take a deep breath.

“Back then, I was not permitted to show fear for my people’s sakes,” she recounted. “I was, after all, a princess before a person. But here... I do not know what I should do. Must I wait in silence for rescue? Shall I allow myself to scream and cry?” She was fidgeting. No, she was trying to distract herself from how badly her hands were shaking. “Say, Matsuda-san... You are...quite intelligent. And you never—you do not sweet talk. Tell me...what I should do.”

Matsuda stared at her. She kept her head bowed.

“Fuck if I know.” Matsuda sighed loudly. “Like holy shit, why you think I’ll know what to do? That’s illogical as fuck. You’re just being a coward by forcing someone else to make the decisions, princess.”

“I am aware,” she whispered.

“I’m not Togami,” he said. “I’m not going to seize control and tell everyone that it’s going to be fine. I’m...”

...not going to lie about that shit.

“I thought not.” Sonia laughs again. It’s almost an ugly sound. Scratchy and unbalanced, completely unbefitting and yet—perfect in this situation. “Matsuda-san, you may have the signals of a legendary hero... But, in reality, your scowling face is too remarkable.”

...

...

...

...

...

...

What the fuck did that even mean?

“The legendary hero of legend,” Sonia reiterated with the utmost seriousness. “The only fault with that—is your face, Matsuda-san! It’s not just remarkable, it’s beautiful!”

What the FUCK is she talking about?

“I would still like to take you with me to my kingdom, once we escape from here,” Sonia went on. “Even if you are not a destined one, you would make for a wonderful advisor and companion. I wish to continue our conversations—and even if it is cowardly, I also wish to look towards you in times of need.”

What the fuck is going on?!

“I...” He’s confused. He’s so hopelessly confused. And yet... And yet... “I heard the medical practice in your country is nothing to sneeze at...so I can’t deny being interested.”

“Splendid! Then—let us continue working together, Matsuda-san!” Sonia clapped her hands. Another dazzling smile, an even more radiant laugh. Just like that, she was back at peak princess. “Ho, ho, hey!”

“Hey, hey, ho...”

Despite that, there’s a lot unsaid. We haven’t really talked, either. We’re just pushing on with forced optimism, filling our heads with empty reassurances and promises in the hope that it’ll be enough to carry us through.

It could very well be. In a situation like this, keeping ahold of one’s morale was pretty fucking prudent. Even if he and Sonia knew shit all about how to lead, they had no choice but to keep stumbling and scrambling. Hoping for the best.

Sometimes... That’s all we really need.

[artxyra]

If you're still taking requests, I got another one! So, Marinette was out getting icecream, but got chased by a guy for a mile. Nobody was near until she reached a park. Damian is by a tree when he saw her. Marinette goes up to him and acts like they're dating and makes an excuse. While pretending to clean his face she explains and Damian decides to play along, but his brothers hear and see everything. After the guy is gone Mari asks to get coffee, they start dating, then explain to the fam.

Note: Alright school is no officially over. Stress levels are down and now I’m battling the mindset of wanting to do nothing when I want to do something (yay summer brain). I hope you enjoy. Might make small changes here and there.  

Have anyone told Marinette that she would find her forever by running away from a stalker, she would have awkwardly laughed in their face and run off into the distant. Well, that is exactly what happened.

Her day was simple, she had a commission that was due any day now, a paper to write for a class assignment, and had to help her parents with the bakery. So, when she began to feel accomplished for the day, she decided that getting ice cream would be the best reward during this nice day. Originally, she was going to invite her closet friends to join her but knowing them they always have plans when she needed them the most, so that made her decision clear.

Walking down the familiar path to the nearest ice cream parlor, Marinette hums the latest Jagged Stone hit song. Had she paid attention to her surrounding, she would have seen a large silhouette off to the distant following her for the past block.

Paying for her strawberry ice cream cone, Marinette was on cloud nine. The cold dessert in her mouth felt like all she did today was worth it. Sadly, that ice cream cone only stayed in her hands for a moment before following to ground.

The ice dessert melts away as a shadow looms in the background.

Had someone told Damian al Ghul Wayne that he would meet is forever by pretending to be her boyfriend, he would have slit someone’s throat and told them to never talk to him again. If only that was the case.

The Wayne family decided to come to Paris, France to talk about expanding the business overseas. Bruce had been in meetings all day alongside Tim which left Damian at the mercy of the most annoying of active brothers, Dick, and Jason. He wishes that his sister would join them, but they opted to stay in Gotham in case their active villains decided to run rapid with the Bats temporarily gone.

Damian also wishes that they had brought Titus, as the Great Dane would have loved the open park to enjoy, but instead, the dog is in the hands of Alfred back at the manor.

Everything was fine until a hand touch on his shoulder causing him to reach for his hidden knife.

“Please pretend to be dating me, someone has been following for that last mile.” A voice told him in French. He turns to see a panic teen around his age looking at him with pleading eyes. Side glancing to the side, he sees a silhouette looming over the fence staring in his direction. Tsking, Damian lowers to her ear and whisper, “Qui.” The girl’s eyes widen, and she grips onto his arm tighter.

“I’m so glad I found you, mon amour. You should have come with me to get ice cream; you would have loved it.” She said loud enough for her voice to carry across the park.

“I’m sure I would have, Angel.” He replies before guiding her over to the picnic set up that Dick had made before chasing Jason when the anti-hero made crude jokes. He glances back over to the fencing; the silhouette is still lingering causing Damian to tsk again.

Picking up a sandwich, he hands it over to the mysterious girl, who takes it with a smile before ripping it apart and pretends to feed Damian. Begrudgingly, Damian takes a bite and pulls the girl closure in the process. Her eyes widen at the sudden gesture, but she relaxes as if it was second nature for her.

“We should do this more often; you know I love a romantic picnic in the park.” She says leaning into his chest. Oh, how much Damian hopes this doesn’t become a public outbreak.

“Angel, I’m sure we’ll have more dates like this. How about a sunset dinner next to the Seine?”

“I would love that.”

Together they pretend to be a happy couple. The stalker never leaving their sight. The girl was growing anxious as they continue to keep up their act. To Damian he wonders why he even agreed to be this girl’s pretend boyfriend, he never does something like this. Maybe it was the hero (excuse me vigilante) in him? He truly doesn’t know. The girl would glance back every ten minutes like clockwork as does he because the minute the stalker was out of sight, they would stop this charade and go on acting like they never meet.

For Marinette, this was a whole new feeling. The moment she felt something was off, she dashed away leaving the rewarded dessert. Looking back, she saw that she was being followed at a similar pace to her own. Her eyes dart around looking for someone that could potentially help her. She found no one. The streets practically dead, an odd sight for a city usually booming with life.

Marinette ran for over a mile, thank kwami for her Ladybug training, as she would have gone off the deep end and crash for how fast she was running. Coming closure to the park, she spots a dark-haired male standing overlooking the park. He was perfect. Glancing behind her, Marinette sees her chaser slowly closing the gap between them. Making a mad dash for the male, Marinette grabs hold of his arm and quickly explains the situation.

A wave of relief past through her when the male replies with a yes in French. Little did they both know, that yes locked their futures together.

Marinette swears that pretending to be someone’s girlfriend had to be the most stressful of jobs. The chaser didn’t leave for over an hour. She and the person she randomly claimed spoke about romantic dates, the scenery around them, and even ate someone else’s picnic meal. To which Marinette feels very bad about it.

Her cheeks flush red that could match her Ladybug suit when she ended up taking a napkin and wiping away crumbs of food. The male became stiff when she did that, but thankfully it was enough to get the chaser away from the park.

“I’m so sorry, I dragged you into that.” Marinette proceeds to ramble, getting a slight chuckle out of the male to which cause a loud gasp from two males from behind them.

“Did she really get the Demon Spawn to laugh?” The tall one in blue asks with wide eyes as if he just saw the biggest moment since whenever.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure she did some dark magic or something.” The one with a strand of white replied causing her pretend-boyfriend to tsk and look away.

“What are you two doing back. I would I thought Todd had killed you or something Grayson.” He said standing up and offering a hand to Marinette.

Marinette looks between the three males and awkwardly rubs the back of her neck. Her phone dings to life. The three males engage in a somewhat heated conversation, well it more like the two males ganging up on the pretend boyfriend.

“Shoot.” Marinette cries out looking over the message. She then quickly turns off her phone and gains the males’ attention.

Walking over to the male she spent the last hour with, she smiles and says, “How about I offer you some coffee as a thank you? But I really need to leave, so if you want some…” She tries to make sense of her conversation but ends up failing, badly.

“Tsk. Angel, I would love to take you on that offer,” He replies sending a chill down her spine, but it was a good chill.

“C’mon.” Marinette grabs his hand and they dash out of the park. “By the way, my name’s Marinette.”

“Damian.”

“Sweet, you’re going to love the coffee.”

Their first official date just so happened to be that Seine date they had pretended to plan just days before Damian was scheduled to return to America. They stayed in contact through Skype calls, text messages, and private social media accounts. It was Damian who invited her to Gotham just a year after dating and countless visits to Paris. Marinette took that moment to get to know his family and she was in a huge shock when she found out that he was the Damian Wayne from Gotham. The family, of course, had a good laugh that would go down in the family history books. Demon Spawn’s girlfriend had no idea who he was for an entire year of dating.

“Well kids, that is how your father and I met.” Marinette says tucking in the twins into their beds. Damian watch from the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. It was moments like these he is forever grateful for agreeing to say yes on that day. He found his forever just like she found hers.

Turning off the lights to their kids’ bedroom, Marinette takes Damian’s hand and kisses his cheek.

“You know the next time we go to Paris, let’s visit that park again.”

“Of course, Angel.”

Embracing each other, thy walk to the direction of their bedroom for the night.

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[drsteggy]

Hey Stegg! I’m going around to some of my writer mutuals/favorite fic writers and asking about their favorite works! Just to spread a little fic writer hype :) Tell us about the best fic you’ve written and why it’s kickass! This could include anything, from developmental fun facts, to character stuff, to your writing process, to thematic-weaving coolness. Have at it! :D

I still think of myself as fairly new in this space, and while I try to write and post regularly, I definitely don’t have a big body of work just yet. I also don’t know if I’m a good judge of my own work. I did have a crappy relationship with my stats last summer, but I’ve mostly gotten over it and I really do try to write things that I want to write, so most of my stuff is pretty self indulgent.

Like. I did creative writing in high school, and undergrad, but it got set aside hard for a long time as I turned skills I had to written debates on blog posts and forums. I came to fic writing without much clue what to do-my studies were sciences and a lot of them, and whatever English classes I took were pretty much minimal. I did love to read, and I read a lot, but if you asked me how stories worked I really could not tell you very well. I still can’t. I recognize that I probably soaked up how I liked story arcs to go, and I knew when I felt cheated or baited and switched (looking at you, LOST and Game of Thrones) but I definitely feel like the dumb kid when I’m somewhere watching people talk about the nuts and bolts of things. So we are gonna go on about my favorite thing I’ve written, because it’s also almost all I’ve written.

So my favorite thing I’ve written is still Uneasy Lies the Chosen of Farore. When I started to really fixate on the Legend of Zelda, I first sought out fan art, and there’s so much gorgeous art. Art led to fic. I hadn’t read fanfic since the 90s when I was obsessing over The X Files.

I particularly liked how flexible canon seemed to be in the fandom. The story goes that the hero and the incarnation of Hylia reincarnate repeatedly, and not all of them got to be a game, right? That idea was so exciting. Surely, at some point, they were adults, maybe older adults, maybe characters I could relate to a bit better than teenagers. So I looked, and the best I could do was finding them in their early, maybe mid 20s. This was frustrating to me and I spent a lot of time wondering if I would be worthy, should I stumble upon a sword with a blue hilt and a strangely flipped cross guard and I decided that I was a lot more worthy than I would have been at sixteen or twenty-five and from there it was a pretty short journey to imagining what it would be like to take that hilt, and that’s pretty much the first chapter.

I’ve written about how the rest of the story came to be before, so I’ll try to not retread that ground. At the time this was going on, I was still sorting out a pretty turbulent and awful period of my own life, and while I was mostly on the other side, I was also still trying to fit it into the rest of my life and I dealt with a lot of it through that story. I half joke sometimes that this version of Link is very much a self insert. I feel like a lot of readers pick up on the parent stuff. But there’s other stuff too, because when I decided to turn my thousand word scene into an 88k fic, I decided to use the overall arc of the previous four or five years as a scaffold to hang stuff on.

I’m not gonna delve into personal stuff for me other than broad strokes. I think I generally made better choices in my life, for example, than Link does, but it did take a therapist to help me see why I made some choices the way I did. The Great Deku Tree and Impa both say things to Link that were said to me. Zelda does as well at some point. Each time that happens he does take a minute to think on it and changes a little bit, so that by the time he is at the end of the story, the guy he was at the beginning might not recognize him.

People often comment that they find this Link and Zelda very relatable and I’m glad they do. In the games, Link is supposed to be the slate your write your experience on as you go. He is supposed to just be an extension of the player, maybe more so in Breath of the Wild which was my intro to the franchise. I really love the journey he goes on from realizing he is a pretty hot mess, and how much his shit is not as together as he assumed, though he needed a big event to change things out of his control to see it, to where is much more emotionally grown up and has found a soft place to land with people he loves who love him back on equal footing.

I recognize my little AU seems a little weird at first, but I’ve enjoyed playing in it enough that I also ended up writing a series of side fics for it, and I still think about what might have happened before and after the sword, that I suspect there will probably be more. It’s definitely a work I’m really proud of, and it also helped bring me into a community of people I really like, too.

The art I commissioned for this fic is making rounds on Tumblr again today, for some reason. Someone reblogged it and a bunch of other people saw it for the first time. I like to think when someone reblog sit out of the blue it means than maybe they went and had a read, and I like having that thought. I’m glad I brought this thing into the world. 2020 sucked pretty hard but this fic probably would not exist if it hadn’t.

Thank you, @kittmoon for the ask. I really do like to talk about that fic.

[imaginesfora3]

It’s About the Pining [Kazunari Miyoshi]

A/N: A commission I did for a lovely person who doesn’t mind if I post them to the blog now. If you’d like to commission me please message me over tumblr and I’ll happily give you my email so we can discuss details! 

There was something wrong with Kazunari.

No matter how hard he tried to brush it off, no matter how much he avoided your gaze or made an excuse for having to help another Summer Troupe member with something to get out of the same room as you, you could feel it. The two of you had been close since you’d become the director of the Mankai company and you’d never had him act so coldly before, as if he couldn’t bear to be around you longer than three seconds, and it was beginning to affect his acting. He’d fumble his lines, forget words, Tenma looked ready to strangle him before you’d finally called off practice for the night. You noted the depressed look on Kazunari’s face at being the reason things had fallen apart that night at practice and you thought twice about following him, knowing you might be the cause of his distracted behavior, but decided it was for the best to squash the situation before it got too awful.

Kazunari was struggling.

It’s not as though he hadn’t had crushes before, there were plenty of others that made him feel this sudden surge of excitement when he was around them, that made his heart race and made his cheeks grow hot with just one look. But you were all of that and more. Being around you made him feel at peace, it made him feel like he could be himself without worrying you’d reject the real him. As his precious director he hadn’t wanted to put you in an awkward position by trying to date you but now these feelings had gotten to be so unbearable, weighing heavily on him at night as he got sick at the thought of another person stealing you away from him. But what could he really do to get his feelings across from you?

He remembered the one night where he’d invited you to a mixer with him, to which you begrudgingly agreed; you seemed a bit lost at first, unable to start conversations, but once one of the others noticed your interest in something and asked you about it, sparks flew from there. He’d never felt quite so bitter, the night seeming to drag on now as he was no longer excited to be here. He’d thought the two of you would be able to talk more, that he’d charm the pants off of you and you’d start seeing him as more than just a member of the company, but if anything he’d just ruined his own chances by introducing you to people who seemed to be a better fit. What kind of stupid idea was this?

“Haha, that was fun, wasn’t it?” He lied through his teeth after the painful night had finally ended, looking at you and trying to at least appreciate how beautiful you looked even when you were dressed in casual wear.

“It wasn’t too bad, thanks for inviting me!” Your friendly smile is like an arrow right to his heart and he can’t help but shoot you a genuine smile, glad that at least you had a good time. “I know you haven’t been going out as much as you used to so I’m glad you still get the chance to every once in a while. It’s good to get out of your room and think about stuff other than acting!”

Kazunari had been pleased you’d noticed that he was making an effort to put up a more mature front, one that said ‘I’m a suitable partner and not just flirtatious punk!’ but he feels like you’re still not taking him seriously enough. You laugh off any implications that he has true feelings for you, you rolled your eyes playfully when he told he wanted to take you on a totally romantic date, and any time he implied you’d be the ideal significant other you simply told him to stop buttering you up. He knows he’s to blame for you not taking him seriously, his earlier years with the company had taken place when he was still finding himself, figuring out what he wanted from life and latching onto the things that gave him immediate gratification rather than playing the long game for something much more gratifying.

That night is what Kazunari is remembering when you stop him in the hall, placing a hand on his shoulder and tilting your head in confusion when he jumps like you’d just electrocuted him.

“Are you alright, Kazu? You’re distracted lately and I need to know if it’s something I can help with.”

You could help in more ways than one, he thinks to himself, you could help by not just recognizing his feelings but returning them, too. You could realize that you were his muse, evidenced by the countless sketches of you in his notebook that he had; they were you doing a range of activities from gaming to simply sitting around reading a book. You had a beauty so striking that he couldn’t help but be inspired the moment he caught sight of you, his hand twitching as he immediately go to work. He’d made it a habit to carry around his sketchbook with him, considering buying a separate one as he didn’t want anyone to stumble upon the one that was practically just inspired by you, but he felt that might be a step too far into the creepy zone.

“Sorry, I’ll try to do better!” His fake smile is something you easily see past and you wished you could shake some sense into him, pouting and crossing your arms as you waited for a real answer. “I’m just… Thinking about my birthday! Yeah! I didn’t know if I wanted to go out to celebrate this year or not.”

“The others are really looking forward to buying you a drink for your 20th… I am, too,” Your sad smile is like a brick on his chest, “But it’s your birthday. If it’s not what you want, I can let the others know.”

“N-No! No, I’m fine with it. But since it’s my birthday, you’ll sit next to me, right? I don’t ever get you all to myself~” Kazunari leaned closer, pleased when you don’t pull away despite being so close, “Could that be my birthday present instead?”

“…Sure, if that’s what you want.”

Kazunari let out a deep sigh, giving you another strained smile before he wished you goodnight; this was just another instance of you not taking him seriously! How much clearer could he get, aside from blatantly telling you he was in love with you, that he wanted to be with you?! In a romantic sense, where the two of you could do cute things together and he could look at you lovingly saying ‘all mine’ and you’d nod to confirm you were, indeed, all his. His poor heart couldn’t take this much longer and he threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow and letting out a deep, discontented groan before he finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.

At least you were his in his dreams.

His birthday was the best night of his life.

He’d tried to push off any depressed feelings he had from his unsuccessful advances on you to simply enjoy the time he had with his friends, which included you, as everyone gave him the little gifts they’d bought or made themselves. He’s feeling even more hyped up as he’s walking with everyone to the restaurant that night, chattering away about all the plans he had now that he was a true blue adult with nothing holding him back! Every once in a blue moon his eyes would drift over to you unprompted, briefly looking you up and down before he returns to the conversation he had been engaged in; this doesn’t go unnoticed by you, quietly wondering if there was still something off between the two of you but figuring his birthday party wasn’t the time or place to bring it up.

The evening goes just as you predicted it would.

There’s plenty of laughter and jokes, Kazunari getting drinks bought for him from just about every member of the company. Tsumugi tries to keep him eating to soak in the alcohol, not wanting the young man to be totally blasted, but in a not very shocking turn of events Kazunari continues to spiral downwards. By the end of the night everyone’s got a nice buzz going for them while Kazunari can barely walk straight, only wanting you to help hold him up; Tasuku was on the other side of him bearing most of his weight but Kazunari refused to unlatch from your arm, excitedly talking about all the things he wanted to do as he got older and all the places he’d love to vacation to with you. You’re a little embarrassed at how blatantly affectionate he’s being and, even if he’d been the same way towards you before, something feels different with the far more direct approach drunk Kazunari is taking.

You don’t know how you convinced Kazunari to make his way to bed, Tasuku once again asking if you need him to take over for you; figuring you could handle Kazunari, and hearing said birthday boys complaints that he wanted you to be the one to tuck him in at night, you decided it was far easier to just handle it yourself. Most of the others had seen themselves off to bed or had gone home for the weekend, Muku’s bed thankfully empty as he surely would’ve been awoken by Kazunari’s giggling.

“I’ve got something super important to tell you~”

“I’m sure you do but you need to sleep now.”

“But it’s super important, don’t you wanna know? Totes top secret, just between the two of us!”

“Kazunari…”

“I love you.”

There’s a piercing silence that fills the room as his brows furrowed, as though he hadn’t meant to say that out loud despite his previous teasing. Every single insecurity he’d ever felt about your relationship, about how you viewed him, popped up again, completely undoing all the confidence the alcohol had filled him with.

“You’re really drunk right now, Kazunari.” You tried to get him settled but his intense stare is still burning into you, his words making your heart flutter in your chest; you don’t remember the last time you’d heard those words from someone who wasn’t a family member or a fan, and coming from him… You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel, but you couldn’t say it was an entirely negative. But wouldn’t that be complicated? To date one of the members of the company you managed?

“I’m not drunk, you’re just really blurry! And it’s how I feel. You never believe me… How can I make you believe me?” Kazunari pouted, leaning against you further and sending you stumbling into the wall. He’s quick to catch himself though it still ends with the two of you pressed closely together, breath hitching as your eyes meet with his. “You’re so beautiful.”

“We can talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober.” Your reply was definitive, sobering him enough as he did the climb of shame into his bed. You left without another word, mind swimming with all sorts of thoughts and anxieties while Kazunari’s did the same.

Morning didn’t bring him any peace.

Kazunari spent at least an hour that morning staring up at the ceiling, hating his life, wishing more than anything he could take back what he said to you last night. It felt like he was being stabbed in his heart and his head, over and over, no mercy being granted to him. He considered spending the rest of the day in bed feigning a serious illness but his stomach dropped at the thought of you being concerned over his well-being so he decided against it, finally dragging himself out of his room and down to the kitchen where you were waiting.

And you were alone.

When you glanced up from your plate to meet him he felt that same painful tinge in his heart, averting his eyes as he remembered almost perfectly the look on your face when he’d confessed to you. He wouldn’t blame you for not taking him seriously, for thinking he was just being his normal, flirtatious self, but he couldn’t have been more serious. Every day that passed he fell more and more in love with you and it was killing him inside now that he thought he’d ruined all that you had together. Kazunari’s heart ached and he wanted to apologize but he felt bringing it up would be even more awkward.

“Can we talk about last night?”

So much for avoiding that problem.

“Uh, haha, yeah, about that… I’m really sorry for saying all of that. I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“It wasn’t real?” You asked softly, head tilting to the side, Kazunari’s breath catching in his throat. How did you manage to be so effortlessly beautiful? His poor heart couldn’t take it.

“…It was real.”

“So you will give me a chance to prove myself?”

“Yes,” You smiled at the eager look on his face, “I’ll go on a date with you Kazunari. And why don’t you let me give you a present that I didn’t have the chance to give you last night.”

His entire body froze as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, a moment that he couldn’t believe was actually happening. He’d pictured how he’d feel, how soft your lips would be, how wonderful and vindicating it would truly be when he finally got the girl. And now that it was happening he was terrified, terrified one small move would puncture the perfect little fantasy bubble he was in and his happiness would explode around him. Yet it was real, you were real, standing in front of him, kissing him, agreeing to go on a date with him.

Kazunari had never been happier.

He’d prove to you that he was a great partner.

One day at a time.

[readerinsertfanfiction]

The Bae’st of All

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Kyubae the bae’st bae of all aka Kyubei

Prompt: Seeing how Kyubei is named after an alias that the real Mitsuhide Akechi used (Juubei) the chances of fans getting a Kyubei route from Cybird are slim. However, it is simply impossible not to fall for this man. He is too good. So here have my attempt at writing a route.

The key of the previous chapter was (Romantic/Dramatic):

+4/+4

+2/+4

+4/+2

Chapters:

1.1| 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 5.1 | 5.2 | 6.1

Avatar Challenge 1| 3.1 Gacha POV | 1st Letter | 5.2 Gacha

Hair dark like the midnight sky, long and luscious like the rich fabric in my hands. Eyes deep like the ocean, blue as the brightest summers, like the cobalt threads in hands. Alabaster skin like the glow of the moon and the pearl of the finish, with a handsome smile, sly as a fox, warm as my heart right now…

“My lady?”

I snap out of my thoughts when the head seamstress waves her hand in front of me, concerned eyes looking me over as she tries to pry the fabric out of my hands.

“You have overworked yourself, my dear. Go get some rest.”

I blink before I realise that I must have been idle again, my mind flying into panic as I take hold of my work once more.

“No! I mean, my apologies! I was spacing out because of something else.”

(More like someone, but she doesn't need to know that.)

The seamstress grimaces at me as she leaves me alone, her lips curling up into something devious while she sits down with her own work.

“I can see it. No young lady is spared that longing, but your hands have to keep moving if you want to stay here.”

I flush at her teasing words and quickly bow over the commission I had managed to nab in.

After much nagging and begging the seamstresses had finally given into giving me a chance. I shouldn’t waste the trust they placed in me.

“Who is the lucky one?”

She whispers to me as I nearly prick myself, so startled I’m by her sudden inquiry.

“Ah, eh, who?! What?!”

I panic as the seamstress chuckles once more, scooting closer to me as she leans in closer.

“Personally, if I had your youth, I’d aim for someone capable like lord Hideyoshi, though I know that the girls love types like lord Masamune, wild and brash.”

I flush once more when I realise what she is trying to get out of me, as my mind wanders off towards a particular vassal that often stuck close to the shadows.

“Or perhaps you think you can warm up that prickly lord Ieyasu?”

I gulp harder at her interrogation as I try to gather my wits together for an answer.

“Were I a woman I’d prefer someone like Lord Mitsunari; kind and friendly to all. Makes for fewer arguments.”

The teasing lilt in the voice was unmistakably familiar as I whipped around to face the man that had occupied my mind so.

“Kyubei! Wha—“

A chuckle escapes the man as he bows, dropping a package next to me as he does so.

“I didn’t mean to overhear, but I was tasked to bring over these sweets to a certain hardworking lady.”

A familiar smell drafts up from the package as I recognise the pastries Kyubei had treated me with when we played Go. It triggered another warm memory within me as I stared at the vassal with bated breath.

“Thank you.”

I manage to get out, earning another grin from Kyubei who shakes his head before responding;

“Just doing my job.”

(Has he always looked so handsome? Oooh, I’m head over heels, am I not?)

Resisting the urge to slap my hands over my cheeks I flash a smile back at Kyubei as I motion for him to sit down.

“Stay for a bit longer?”

(Let me have you near me a little longer.)

I wasn’t sure when I had grown so greedy for his time. Neither did I have a clue when I had started to think of him as someone I liked more than just a friend. But here I was and I wasn’t about to let go so easily, no matter the time left.

(Just allow me to stay by your side.)

I prayed this as Kyubei’s eyes crinkle into another smile, resigning himself for a moment as he joins me.

“If you allow me, but no word to my lord. He will double my work if he finds out I’m idle.”

The joke comes out in a hushed whisper and I find myself leaning in closer, making sure I don’t miss out on any sound of his voice.

“It is our secret.”

“I can be your job.”

“Just a break.”

The head seamstress in the meanwhile had retreated already, her inquisitive eyes staring me down as I realised that she had me.

(Welp. So much for her fancy warlord gossip!)

Though, I don’t feel any regret over having to miss out on that talk.

“I shouldn’t keep you long.”

Kyubei’s voice pulls me back to him, my eyes widening as I shake my head.

“No-“

“Don’t worry. With you around she might actually keep her head in the present.”

The head seamstress answers for me before I can protest, earning a blush crawling across my jaws and down to my neck while I quickly dive into my needlework with interest.

“If you say that I might actually get the wrong idea!”

Kyubei laughs as he returns a reply in good humour and the seamstress chuckles.

(They’re both enjoying my misery!)

I lament this as the two of them continue their friendly banter, my head lowering and inching closer to the fabric until I have buried my face into the folds.

“Oh dear, it has grown late.”

Kyubei suddenly announces as he gets up, the fabric of his hakama rustling when he moves. I peek out just enough to see that he has his eyes trained on me, our gaze meeting as I quickly straighten up.

“So soon already?”

I can’t help but let my disappointment sound through as Kyubei flashes me an apologetic smile.

“There is much to do, still. Forgive me.”

(It is unfair how I can never be angry at him.)

He reaches out and brushes some hair out of my face before turning and leaving me once more. As soon as Kyubei has exited the room the head seamstress chuckles once more, her knees quickly scooting over to my side as she stares me down with a mischievous glimmer.

“Now, that’s a choice. Though, I wouldn’t say it is a good one.”

Her expression tells me that she loves it, but her words spell something different. Confused, I keep quiet, hoping to encourage her to continue.

“That’s lord Mitsuhide’s shadow, not? The one who does all of the dirty work the lord himself can’t be bothered with, or associated with.”

Her words sting, but I’m aware of Mitsuhide’s reputation by now. The lord whose allegiances were unclear despite the position he held next to Nobunaga.

(It doesn’t help that the future has no clue of it either and I’m no more the wiser.)

“You will spare yourself a lot of heartbreak if you let go of that one, dear.”

The head seamstress continues as she gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder, leaving me rather cold and empty as I take in her words.

(I know she is right, but is it really so easy to let go of someone?)

My heart said no, and neither did my mind agree.

(Even if heaven and earth defies, my heart cannot lie.)

[cozycryptidcorner]

Fiore the Genderfluid Kelpie

Notes: this is a commission from a user who wishes to remain anonymous, about a curly-haired musician meeting her monster match for the first time. 

If your roommates weren’t such absolute twats about the noise, then you really wouldn’t have much of a reason to practice your violin in the outdoors like some kind of lonely vagabond. The day is bright, only a few clouds in the sky, but not specifically warm enough to make you melt into the little dirt path. Nor do you feel much strain in your lungs as you hike around the dirt path. It’s the kind of day that hints of summer, with all the warm, soft sunlight of the day without the same, stifling heat that comes in the deeper throes of those months.

Hauling everything- the violin, the stand, and the sheet music should be more complicated than it seems, but you’re so used to it by now that you don’t really notice the effort. All the better, then, because having an explosive argument with your roommate over staying indoors would be more trouble than it’s worth. The smaller university also locks its practice doors during the summer, so you can’t go there.

So, again, outdoors, it is.

Google maps is very helpful for seeing the dirt trail that weaves its way around the nearby lake, though it doesn’t register it as a viable pathway. You have to eyeball it, which is okay, because you think it would be reasonably simple to make your way back to the high rises of the city, as you can see them once you stand on a hill, right on your tiptoes. There’s a gorgeous, large, and ancient weeping willow that google’s satellites have captured, one that’s large enough to provide shade and shelter from any unruly breeze. Already, you spot it on the other side of the water, so you tuck your phone into your pocket and head in that direction.

Setting everything up is easy, the collapsable stand simple enough to build, the ground flat enough to allow it to stay upright. You trap your sheet music to it with clothing pins, just as a precaution despite the breeze isn’t quite strong enough to blow them to kingdom come, and turn on your metronome app on your phone as you set it right next to the paper. Once everything is set up, albeit with your violin still in its case, you allow yourself to go investigate the edge of the lake itself, just for the sake of looking around.

The lake is large, extensive, and a shimmering, crystalline blue. You remember that a few years ago, some environmentalist people in town managed to get a large clean-up production in order, clearing out the trash and filtering the muddied water until it stopped shining with grease. There’s an ancient, dilapidated dock, the old, rotting wood half-submerged in the reeds and water, though you think that the very center might be able to hold your weight.

Wanting only to get a better look at the lake as a whole, you step onto the dock, wincing as it creaks under a portion of your weight, but it seems to take it well enough. Carefully, you place your other foot down, too, then carefully tiptoe over the part of the wood that looks the most stable, getting about halfway down the dock. The lake itself is supposed to be ridiculously deep, there’s a river that provides freshwater from the melting snow on the nearby mountains, so it also must be rather cold.

Funnily enough, as soon as you think that, there is a violent crack sound from beneath your shoes, and you find out for yourself exactly how cold the water really is. It’s freezing, just as expected, a biting, icy feeling running through your nerves, and you barely even have time to shut your mouth tight to avoid getting a mouthful of water. Your arm smarts as it hits a plank wrong, and there’s a snap that you aren’t sure is from the wood or your arm.

You struggle, arms flailing limply as you try to surface. There’s something on your foot, though, it’s somehow pinned or stuck in a stray part of the dock, and you don’t think you even have the air to deal with it. Letting out a breath of bubbles to help ease the tension in your chest, you bend your knee a bit, dragging yourself down further, and try to feel out what you’re stuck in.

Wood, definitely another part of the dock, and it feels like you just punched your foot clean through, right up to your ankle. You wriggle, trying to shimmy your way out, but there seems to be absolutely no way for you to get out without at least dislocating something. Before you can even process true, absolute panic at the thought of drowning, a pair of arms wrapping around your chest and pulls. A shock of pain runs through your leg, and your struggle, harder, jabbing your elbow against something… rubbery, you think.

The water is too murky for you to see beyond the blob figure that swims gracefully down to your ankle. After just a moment, two arms reach forward, snapping the plank with such ease that you wonder why you weren’t able to pop out of it yourself, but suddenly you’re being pulled up again, though this time, you actually feel the air.

You splutter and gasp, your face probably cherry pink with the violent effort your body makes to resupply oxygen. Once you manage to take in a few, choking gasps, you spin around to see your rescuer, a bit taken back when you notice the lack of clothing on her pale, freckled body. She’s slim in frame, not at all looking anywhere near strong enough to be able to snap a slab of wood like it was nothing more than a twig even if it had been rotting in the water for god knows how long.

“Um, thank you,” you say awkwardly, unsure of what else to do, “for helping me, I mean.”

She eyes you up and down, her eyes glittering in the reflection of the sunlight dancing up from the water. There’s something that’s oddly absent from her gaze, like a slab of blankness beneath the blue irises, and you find yourself unconsciously crossing your arms across your chest in a sort of protective gesture of yourself.

“Of course,” she says finally, after a long, awkward pause, “you were drowning.”

The way she says it makes it sound like she wasn’t entirely sure if that was what really was happening or not, so you wonder if maybe she’s teetering on embarrassment? That might explain her strange behavior.

“My foot was stuck, yeah,” you say. “If you hadn’t freed me, I probably would have.”

“Hm,” she nods sagely, as though that were an answer to another unasked question, “you cannot breathe in the water.”

“No, I can’t.” You are suddenly very aware of your wet socks as you shift your weight, the thick layer of silt squishing down and over the soles of your tennis shoes. “That’s the thing about humans, we can’t breathe underwater.”

“Fascinating,” she mulls the idea over, as though she couldn’t possibly relate.

“Um,” you’re trying very hard not to stare at any other part of her body but her face, “yes, so I was here to practice my violin, but um, I didn’t realize that anyone else was here.”

“Practice the violin?” She echoes.

“My instrument,” you gesture vaguely in the direction of where you set up your temporary haven of music, “I was going to practice out here because my roommates get annoyed by the noise. I didn’t realize that someone was out here, though, I thought I’d be alone.”

She waits for you to elaborate, but when you don’t, she suggests, “if you are worried I might mind a little music while I lounge and swim, you should not. I will somehow survive.”

It takes you a moment to process that she must be joking, so you let out a brief laugh. “I’m sorry for crashing your lounging and swimming. Um, do you happen to have a name?”

“Of course,” she says.

When she doesn’t embellish, you ask, “what is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She has to think about it for a moment, you can see her eyes fade as she wanders through the depths of her mind to drudge it up. You wonder how long she might have gone without hearing it because the long silence that follows seems a little too meticulous to be her looking for a fake one to give. “Fiore.”

“Fiore?” You shift again, wincing at the feeling of slime absorbing into your shoes still. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you; it is, isn’t it.”

Slowly but steadily, you manage to get yourself out of the muck, kicking off your shoes and socks once you’re free from the reeds. Bare feet on a dirt path, you think, is preferable to the soggy, squishing feeling of muddied and wet shoes, and when you turn around, you don’t spot your savior anywhere. Shrugging that off, you head back over to your little setup, checking over your phone, thankful that you had the foresight to pull it out of your pocket before you took an impromptu dunk in the lake.

Popping your violin case open, you begin on your scales, just as a brief exercise to warm your fingers up before moving onto more complicated pieces. Pressing against the strings, you quickly draw your bow out to make the notes. C major, then minor, then D major, then minor, and so on until you moved halfway through the scales before glancing self-consciously over to where you last saw Fiore, but there isn’t any sign of her slim figure.

Thinking that she might have just left while you were paying attention to your finger’s positions over the strings, you go back to practicing, finishing your scales, and choosing from your bags which piece to begin working on.

You would say that this is the most peaceful practice session that you’ve had since this whole worldwide ugly situation has started. No roommates come banging on your door to tell you to quiet it down, no angry stomping protests from the neighbors in the above apartments. Just you, the violin, and your music, and you find yourself improving somewhat on one of the more difficult passages in a piece that’s had you stuck for a long while.

In fact, it was so productive that you find yourself returning in a few days, spurred on by the annoyance of your roommates. The weather is beautiful enough, a gentle breeze cooling any sort of heat that may become stifling in the warming spring. You repeat the actions from when you were last at the lakeside, setting everything up, leaving your phone on the stand, then move to investigate the shore.

You are looking to see if Fiore is here, you’re not ashamed to admit it, but as you scope out the edge of the lake, you see no one around. Not even a telltale sign of rippling to suggest that someone is swimming just below the surface, so you suppose that she just isn’t around. Which, you assume, might as well be expected, because it’s not like you know her whole schedule of when she actually goes for a swim.

So you start practicing again, going through your scales, then beginning on your regular pieces. As you pause, maybe a half-hour into working, to turn on the metronome on your phone, you notice a head of black hair poking up from the water. Which is weird, because you didn’t see anyone in your periphery arrive, you think you might have given the circumstances, but maybe you were just so sucked into the music that you weren’t paying attention to anything else.

Thinking it must be Fiore, you walk over, popping up on your tiptoes so that you can get a better view of her head, you almost stop in your tracks when you realize that the body swimming in the pond is, in fact, very masculine. And just as naked, but you digress. Face so red you think you might look more like a tomato than human, you take a step back, your foot catching on some root or twisted patch of grass, and you fall hard on your ass.

He’s looking at you promptly, eyes sharp and hauntingly familiar. You’re even more embarrassed, now, because you thought that you might have been able to make a quiet and unnoticed retreat. Instead, you’re looking at the face of someone who seems to be debating on whether or not to eat you alive. At least, that’s what it feels like from his predatory glare.

“I- I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” It dawns on you now that he might think that you were trying to get a sneak peek of the goods, and just the thought of gaining the reputation of a peeping tom makes your face heat up even more. “There was like this girl who was here last time I practiced, I mean, I saw her when I was practicing violin, too, and you two actually look a lot alike, so I thought- I, um, thought you were her because of the black hair.”

The man regards you with no small amount of suspicion, eyes narrow.

Nervous, you try to dig yourself out of the hole you’ve made. “I was practicing violin, she seemed to like the music- I mean, I think she did. I’m really sorry to bother you, and I’ll just go back to practicing, sorry.”

As you get up to leave, the man cocks his head. “Your hair.”

Mindlessly, as if spurred on only by the word, you reach up and pluck one of the coils, pulling it down to its full length if it were straight. “Y-yeah?”

“It didn’t do that, not when you were here last. How did you make it crumple up?”

Was he there, and you just didn’t see him? “I- I don’t know what you mean.” You release the strand, and it pops back into place, frowning. “It’s just curly?”

“It was straight when you fell into the water.”

“Oh,” feeling sheepish to have your past mistake thrown out like that by another stranger makes you want to bury yourself, “that’s what happens when my hair gets wet. It stops being curly.”

The man regards you like he’s never even heard of such a thing before. Ignoring the weird feeling in your chest, you approach the water, cupping your fingers together, and bring a fistful of water up to a strand. True to your word, it straightens out almost instantly, and you allow him to stare at you like a bug under a microscope, comparing the now damp strand with the rest of your hair.

“See?” You offer, hoping the pinkness in your face might have died down by the attempts to satiate his own curiosity.

“So it was you,” he says, nodding sagely as if he figured it out on his own.

“Yeah, yup, that was me.” You take a significant step back, wiping your hand on your shirt. “I don’t remember seeing you, though, so you must have been swimming out on the far side.”

There’s an awkward pause, and just when you’re about to turn around and retreat back to your music stand, the man speaks, “You don’t remember me?”

Immediately, you try to go through your recollection of that day to see if you somehow wholly blocked the presence of the man, as well, but you don’t think you did. “Did you introduce yourself?”

He looks almost hurt. “I’m Fiore, I told you.”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to bug out of your skull, because no, that’s not Fiore. Fiore is… admittedly, the same size as this man, tall, slim, with black hair that does fall past her shoulders, but come on. Come on! There’s no way the two are the same person, at least, you don’t think so, because you could have remembered everything wrong. You couldn’t have, though, because this really isn’t something you can just mix up.

“You’re confused,” probably-not-Fiore observes, which is most likely an elementary observation on his part.

“Yes.” You admit, not wanting to outright refuse to believe that what probably-not-Fiore’s saying is false.

“I see.” There’s a faraway look in his face, open enough to give you the feeling that he’s trying to put some kind of explanation in words. “It’s like your hair.”

“My hair,” you repeat, unsure.

“Your hair changes. My body changes. It’s… the same, but different.” Maybe-Fiore places a hand on his chest and drags it downwards to his stomach. “Sometimes, I feel better in this body. Sometimes I feel better in other bodies.”

“Oh,” you say, because that makes perfect fucking sense, of course, why didn’t you think of that earlier, “right.”

“The humans have a term for that, I think,” Maybe-Fiore places a hand on his chin as he thinks, “another visitor to my lake told me, but I cannot remember it.”

“Oh, you’re not human,” you say, not believing him in the slightest, “I didn’t realize.”

“Did I not mention it,” Fiore says in a tone that suggests that he very well knows that he never uttered a word about his species, “interesting. Anyway, I enjoyed the music you played earlier, and I would like to hear it again.”

“Alright,” you hesitate, though you know that you might as well comply. Slowly, you head back to where you left your stand and pick up your violin. Trying your best to focus, you begin practicing again, starting with scales and arpeggios as you did the last time you were here. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him, lounging, still very naked, on the outer banks of the lake, clearly enthralled in your music.

You’re not sure if you can be flattered over that or not, but you continue practicing nonetheless. When you’ve put in some time- about an hour or two, according to your phone, you begin breaking down your practice area, collapsing your music stand, and packing away your books. Maybe-Fiore is lying leisurely on the side of the dilapidated dock, eyes only opening once the music has ceased.

Sometimes, I feel better in this body. Sometimes I feel better in other bodies, he has said, and you try to digest what that means, the humans have a term for that, I think.

“Did you mean genderfluid?” You ask suddenly, popping your case shut.

He sits up as you stand, trying to formulate a sentence. “What?”

“You said you sometimes feel comfortable in other bodies, and that there was a word for it. Did you mean genderfluid?” You clarify, trying to adjust the straps of your myriad of bags, so the weight is evenly distributed on your shoulders.

“Yes- that.” He smiles, and there’s a weird feeling swimming in your stomach when you see it. “Sometimes, I feel like a male. Sometimes I feel like a female… and I have the advantage of being able to change.”

“Okay,” you nod, wondering for the first time if he actually is Fiore, if Fiore could simply switch their sexes the moment they felt different. Which… you think is a tad bit out there, because changing one’s shape so instantaneously and thoroughly isn’t physically possible. That you know of, though.

“Will you play closer to the lake next time you come?” Maybe-Fiore says, laying back down against the half-rotted wood, closing his eyes.

“If you’d like,” you say, warming up to the idea. You would be directly under the sun, but a lot of sunscreen and plenty of water might keep you from dying.

“I would like,” he nods firmly, rolling back over into the water.

Trying to not look below his waist, you say your goodbyes, and turn to leave.

The weather is already warming up, as though spring was nothing more than a few-day blip on the calendar. The humidity doesn’t help matters, either, because your hair has decided to do something very unique with itself, poking out in oddly placed tufts that don’t want to conform to any other look but insane person. When you come back to the lake, you have a water bottle filled to the brim with mostly ice to melt and sip on while you practice.

You hear the horse before you see it, the tromping of hooves against the earth, a loud, resounding whinny as it sees you in the middle of its path. It’s an incredibly large, foreboding creature, pale like a ghost, a myriad of speckles dotting its back half. Immediately, adrenaline bursts into your veins, because random, galloping horses are not good news, especially when it seems to be heading right for you.

Just when you’re about to shed your stuff and dodge, the horse makes a sharp turn, kicking up some dirt as it does so. Even though the immediate danger is over, your heart is still quaking in your chest hard enough to feel the aftershocks in your fingertips. You are far too startled to do much other than watch the admittedly majestic creature with a wary eye as it gallops over to the lake, the white spray of water splashing about as it plunges beneath the surface.

All that happened within the span of a few moments, and you are far too surprised at the… the absurdness of it all to do much more than stand there, mouth agape, as you quietly debate the pros and cons of leaving your things so you could run away faster. Before you come to a conclusion, though, you see a head of black hair pop up from the water, and all you can think of is Fiore and a feral horse getting into a tussle that the creature would not lose.

You drop your things and run, but not away from the lake, towards. Wild horses could easily cave someone’s skull in like a mallet to a melon, and you’re not going to just leave when Fiore- whoever they may be- might end up pummeled to death by hooves. While you try to shout- keyword try here- you find that the ungodly speed you’re running at mixed with your panicking lungs, all you can manage is a weak wheeze until you near the edge of the lake.

When you get that close, you see that it is Fiore, her slim, long hair sticking to her skin from the water. You’re just about to run yourself into the mud, but you manage a screeching halt, gasping for air, a drop of sweat rolling down your temple as you manage to choke out, “horse, there’s a horse-”

“Not anymore,” Fiore chirps, completely unaware of your panic.

“What? No,” you bend over, your lungs desperately trying to compensate for the sudden strain, “there was like a huge-ass horse that almost trampled me earlier, it went into the lake- and-” come to think of it, why haven’t you seen it surface for air? Where did it go?

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fiore steps closer to the shallows, the water only waist-deep on her. “I was just delighted to see you, I may have gotten a little too excited.”

You shake your head, only half processing the nonsense she’s speaking. “Not you, the horse. There’s a horse!”

“Yes,” Fiore sounds like you, almost exasperated that you do not quite understand what’s going on, “I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t startle me, the horse did!”

Fiore looks at you, her eyes narrowed slightly, making you feel like you’re missing a massive, undeniable piece of some puzzle you didn’t know you were playing. “And I said I was sorry, sweet thing.”

Even though a shiver runs through your back when she calls you that- sweet thing- you have to be misunderstanding something significant here because... is Fiore insinuating that she can turn into a horse? You are going to faceplant onto the ground if the answer is yes. “Fiore.”

“Yes.”

“So, you were a horse just a few minutes ago.”

“Yes?” She sounds almost relieved that you finally understand what’s happening. Like back and forth was exhausting, and she could not understand why you didn’t.

“Ha.” You’re going insane. Or maybe Fiore was trying to pull a fast one, a long drawn out fast one, and this is all some kind of elaborate hoax to mock the girl who hikes half a mile just to play the violin. “No.”

“Ha, yes,” Fiore counters, almost impatiently.

“But-”

“What makes it so difficult to understand?”

You feel like your brain is going to explode. “Um… I need to go fetch my violin.”

She brightens somewhat. “Don’t forget that I want you playing closer this time.”

“R-right.”

Surely you’re teetering on the very edge of sanity because that conversation did not just happen. Slowly, you gather your things, trying to mull the conversation over in your head. Fiore- the woman, the man, the horse, this can’t be happening. But you can’t come up with any sort of more logical explanation, especially since any other alternative seems far wilder than the simplicity of shapeshifter. So as you begin to put everything together to play, you ask, almost timidly, “what are you?”

“What do you mean?” She’s sitting out of the water, naked, only a few arm’s lengths away.

“I mean,” your fingers are shaking too much to actually play, so you pretend to tweak at the strings of the violin to tune it, even though you don’t have the means to properly do so, “if you can change like that, and you even said that you aren’t human, what are you?”

There’s another faraway look in Fiore’s eyes, the same as when you first asked for her name. Like she has to struggle to remember, as though she hasn’t had to explain her existence in a long while. “Your people have many different names for mine,” she says, reminiscing, “but I suppose that you might know the word ‘kelpie,’ hm?”

You are not going to be scared, not yet. Trying to keep your voice calm, you ask, “like the man-eating horse creature?”

Fiore, to her credit, seems to find that description funny, of all things. “I haven’t tasted man in so long, but I can’t say that I find it particularly delicious. I prefer those creatures with the horns, what are they called... cattle.”

At least she doesn’t seem to favor the taste human, so you force your body to relax a little. “And you live in the lake?”

“For as long as this village has existed.” She closes her eyes, you can see a timeline play in her mind. “Though, not so much a little vagabond grouping anymore.”

You think of the high rising skyline and let out a little snort, unbidden, “you can say that again. Have you visited the city square recently?”

“I’ve never visited the square,” she leans back on her elbows, staring up at the sky listlessly, “never needed to, really.”

“Huh,” you’ve finally managed to stop your shaking body, calming down enough to lift your violin to your chin, “maybe we should go together sometime.”

Before you give her time to process the offer, you drag the bow across the G string, letting the note resonate over the landscape, just to make sure you didn’t muck anything up during the impromptu tuning. Satisfied with the outcome, you begin to play, not bothering to set up your stand or bring out any books, sitting cross-legged in the soft grass instead of standing. This isn’t really about practicing, you decide, but about letting the music flow through you naturally.

By the way Fiore’s eyes become half-lidded, then slowly close, you can tell that she’s enjoying your improv. With your focus only on the next several notes, you need your fingers to grasp; you can’t put too much attention in how beautiful she is, sprawled out in the sun like this. Only that she is, but you try to only use your periphery to observe this.

“You said that you could show me the main square?” She asks when the music notes slowly ebb away.

“I mean,” how do you put this delicately, “you might have to put on some clothes, first.”

Her face scrunches up in a slight scowl at the mere thought. “Yes, I’ve noticed that humans are cautious about covering your bodies up. If you’d like, you can take yours off now, I wouldn’t mind.”

You try not to balk at the idea right off the bat because you’re not sure if mutual nakedness means the same thing to her as it does to you. “I’m fine for now, actually. I don’t mind the clothing.”

“If you insist.” She goes back to her leisurely lounging. “But I suppose that I would have to wear… something, if I were to enter the city.”

“Yeah, unfortunately, there are laws about public nudity.”

Fiore lets out a little hmph, “and there are certain rules to the clothing.”

“... Yeah,” you say, trying not to show too much sheepishness.

“But you will help me?”

“Of course.”

Fiore pauses, cocking her head to the side as she thinks. “I believe someone once told me that such an outing would be called a ‘date.’”

You just about crack the wood of your violin in half. Not entirely sure in which direction either of you would like to take, you say, “I mean- yes, it could be, but it doesn’t have to-”

“What do you mean when you say it is, but it doesn’t need to be? Are humans always so very confusing about such matters? Must be exhausting.”

There’s some truth to that statement, your brain is especially ready to explode again, though for a much different reason than before. “I mean… if you’d like it to be a date, it could be a date. But if you didn’t want to go on a date with me, it could be like a platonic get-together.”

Fiore squints, running over her options, then shrugs. “I’m fine with a romantic outing.”

The hairs on your arm stand up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” There’s an odd, explosive sensation in your chest, and you’re not sure what to do about it. “That sounds like a plan.”

[apsaraqueen]

Guys, I am honestly so floored by this beautiful piece of art commissioned from the incredibly talented @versailles-fairytale - depicting a scene from the Rei x reincarnated!Jadeite fic I’m working on over at AO3, love and sleep (link to the fic, which I started for the 2018 @ssminibang, a few posts down). 

I can’t get over how lovely this is - the tranquil setting, their peaceful expressions, how natural they look, all the little details of their clothes, the takeout boxes, the beer, EVERYTHING. Thank you so so so much @versailles-fairytale!

Excerpt of the scene below, for those curious.

In less than a week the midspring weather had rapidly turned so fine it dried the last melt rivuleting between the shingles and cobbles. The cherry tree was loaded with blossoms and pea plants heavy, a natal film over them like the pearled stuff in eggs.

They (Rei) decided to strip the bedding and mats. For the purpose they (Junin) hauled from the shed a grand hinoki bathtub at least a quarter century unused. She piled her hair on her head, put on an ancient cotton sundress, and being smaller, stood barefoot on the futons while he poured bucketfuls of astringent soap and hot water. As the level rose the futons floated up like squid, treaded down without ceremony, loosening old dirt.

They washed everything in turns and wiped down the tatami; they strung cords in zigzagged lines between the trees hemming the courtyard; they draped it all under noon sky. By the end he and she were damp, herb-scented, breathing heavily.

It was a task she’d always secretly enjoyed because it felt so assertively a riddance of winter. Though they were exhausted under her ribs was lightness. They ordered zaru udon, ravenous. The restaurant threw in a beer, at which she made a disdainful moue, and he opened on the edge of the stairs. They ate straight from the clamshells. When her dipping sauce ran out she absently plucked the last cup from his container.

They lingered there a while after, full, sitting among grease-paper carcasses. A breeze rustled through the linens, curtaining the courtyard like imperial banners, or noren in the entryways of restaurants. She felt it whisper across her face, speaking of summer.

He leaned back onto his elbows on the steps. “Ever thought about moving that inside?”

“What?” she followed his gaze. “The tub? No.”

“You’d use it, wouldn’t you?”

“I already have a tub.”

“Which you spend many hours in,” he pointed out idly. “This one seems pretty sturdy.”

“It won’t fit, it’s too big,” she dismissed. “Too decadent. For a shrine.”

Junin raised the bottle, drained the neck down. “More rules?”

Her lashes moved in a languid blink. “They’re important.”

There were wet marks on his shirt from her reaching up to take his shoulders for balance on the futons. She saw it was the same one he’d been wearing that day she went in to him, sleeping, or not. He hadn’t said anything. Her handprints, already drying.

Rei ran her tongue over her bottom lip, tasting a sheen of sesame, grained salt.

“What are you doing the rest of the day?” she said.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw condensation sparkling, another swig. “Isn’t that your call?”

“No, I meant, we can’t beat these until they dry, tomorrow. So...if you’ve other plans, to go out, or…”

She’d been gesturing obscurely at the hanging sheets and futons, tatami. Junin reached up and caught her fluttering hand. Her eyes were open and clear; he moved in her line of sight. He moved so she could watch him, his fingers taking her, deliberate.

“I’m all yours,” he said.

Through the branches of cedars overhead the sun was sieved and scattered its light all about the courtyard. The heat kept, in the coal-glint hair crowning her head, her neck and bare shoulders, the stone under them. His thumb spreading open her palm.

Behind her eyes, the same burn. She let them fall closed a moment.

“All right,” she said eventually. She waited until she was sure of herself. “All right – what should we do?”

For a few seconds Junin stayed quiet, and when she looked, in profile his expression was contemplative.

“Anything,” he said. “Whatever you want. Tell me what you like doing.”

Her shoulder lifted, dropped. “Taking baths.”

The slow of his smile before he wrapped it around the bottle, tipped up, back. “There’s an idea.”

“Maybe, later,” she watched his Adam’s apple lurch over the mouthful he’d just swallowed. Then she went on, stupidly pleased. “I read. I meditate. They’re normal things. It’s not a secret, what I like to do.”

“By yourself,” there was husk in his voice, beer down the wrong pipe. “What about with friends?”

Her fingers drifted to her nape, but her hair was already pulled off it. “Order in. Watch old anime.”

“With me?”

“I don’t know what I like, with you,” said Rei softly. “We haven’t done anything yet.”

There were hardly any sounds in the courtyard, only traffic distantly sensed from the road, crows muttering somewhere, the long deep exhalations of trees. There were only the things they were saying, thought the priestess, reverberating like the bell in the haiden, remaking the air.

Junin’s tone, gentle. “What is it we’re doing now?”

The light moved coy over the longitude of his arms and legs, his eyes which he didn’t bother shading as he looked out, beside her. She might have taken her hand from his, might have taken his face, turned it to hers. All possibilities. But she had waited this long already. They both had.

“I don’t know,” she repeated. Her chin propped on her unheld hand, she looked out, too. “But I like it.”