#since Pin and Bin are red and blue

[adokle]

Some Battle Bird Armada folk. Got the ground crew attending to the ship of a just landed pilot.

-

Featuring Lynne (Navy) and Tin (Pink), birth parents of the Dux, grandparents of the Dynamite.

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 10/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: the end 🙏

a/n: decided to combine the last two chapters into one! don’t mind the abrupt ending

word count: 2.1k

masterlist w/ all parts

“You and Paige played together on the U16 and U17 USA Basketball teams, where you guys won a championship at the 2018 FIBA World Cup. Has there been a noticeable difference in your on-court chemistry from USA Baskerball to UConn after the development of your more personal relationship?”

Azzi stared at Leo blankly. “With Paige’s ACL, we haven’t gotten many opportunities to play together yet, so I wouldn’t know.”

Leo raised her eyebrows expectantly. When Azzi crossed her arms and looked away, refusing to speak anymore, she sighed in frustration and clicked her pen. “Okay…” she drawled out. Her eyes scanned her notes for the next question. “Paige was the first freshman to win the AP and Naismith Player of the Year. Although she’s still an underclassman, it would be fair to say she has a lot of valuable experience and natural leadership. What have you personally learned from Paige?”

“That she’s a fuck ass bitch,” Azzi whispered under her breath.

Leo leaned forward. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” Azzi smiled charmingly at the blinking red dot on the camera. “Paige definitely makes her presence known on the court.“ She paused, gathering her thoughts. Leo sent her an encouraging smile, her pen finally scribbling for the first time in the entire interview.

Azzi thought back to the way Paige had used to speak to her, both in their time playing together at USA Basketball and in the months leading up to their agreement. “It’s the fact that you can’t shoot a mid ranger without getting the ball turned over. These are basic foundations of basketball, Fudd. You’re playing college ball now. It’s time to grow up.” Paige had spat, months earlier. Azzi pursed her lips, her anger further fueled from the words they’d thrown at each other in the hospital bathroom the week before. “If she sees a weakness or a flaw in your play, she won’t hesitate to point it out. She likes having her way with things.” Leo’s smile slowly faded. “She has a whole system set up at UConn, and if you dare challenge it, she’ll make you regret it.” By the end of her rant, Azzi was rigid in her seat, the tips of her ears on fire as she riled herself up.

Leo’s pen slowly started moving. She aggressively slammed down her pen and paused the camera. “We can’t use that!”

Azzi looked innocently at her. “Why not?”

“No one is gonna watch this film and think you guys are dating with the way you’re speaking about her,” Leo scowled.

Azzi rolled her eyes. “I doubt Paige said anything positive about me either. Why can’t you just bin the interviews and work with the segments you already have?”

“No, she didn’t,” Leo answered roughly. “Paige gave great answers. You’re the one that’s hard to work with.”

Azzi’s leg stopped jittering. “What do you mean great answers?”

Leo clicked away on her laptop before swiveling it around to face the dark haired girl. “Watch,” she demanded, pressing play.

The video was dark and muted at first, until someone adjusted the camera and it showed Paige, sitting in one of those director’s cameras. A mic was attached to the collar of her jersey, and her hair was pinned up in her signature two braids and ponytail. Azzi’s heart ached. This was her first time seeing Paige since their incident in the bathroom, and she looked good. Better than good. She’d obviously recovered well from her surgery; her skin was glowing and the bags under her eyes were lighter than normal. Her deep blue eyes were sparkling, and she looked in a good mood.

Leo’s voice filtered in from off camera. “What do you like about Azzi?”

Paige smiled uneasily. “Basketball wise or uh,” she shifted in her seat, “girlfriend wise?”

“Both.”

“Well, in terms of basketball, I don’t really have to speak for her,” Paige laughed all nervous, and Azzi could feel her blood pumping faster through her veins. “I mean, everyone knows how good she is. She has a killer pull-up and unlimited range. Her jump shot is perfect, and she’s lethal with her catch and shoot threes.”

At that moment, Leo cut in. “Many people have been saying that with you out, UConn suffers a major drawback. Are you worried about the position of your team without your guidance on the court?”

Paige’s expression changed. “I hear that, and I understand that, but honestly, I’m not as worried as people think I am. Each player on the team is a valuable asset. If we’re talking about Azzi, she’s been putting in extra work to expand her offensive role ever since my injury. I’ve been watching her at practice, and let’s just say, I think that other teams should be even more scared of UConn this upcoming season.”

Azzi felt like someone had just dumped an entire bucket of ice water on her head. What was Paige saying? She’d expected Paige to be condescending, that of course the team was going to suffer badly without her, to laugh at the idea that Azzi would be able to compensate for her loss. But here Paige was, talking about Azzi like she’d hung the damn moon.

Leo’s voice on the video brought her back to attention. “Now, what about personally? You and Azzi have been recently named the ‘it couple’ of women’s baseball, even despite your…” Leo hesitated as she searched for the right word, “tumultuous history. We’d love to learn about what you appreciate about who fans have dubbed as the people’s princess.”

Paige smiled tightly. Azzi noticed her tapping her finger against the side of her leg, a nervous tic that not many people knew she had. “Azzi is a really good person.”

“Can you expand on that?”

Paige’s eyes focused on her lap. “She’s very selfless. Especially in the beginning, I struggled a lot mentally with my injury. Basketball means the world to me, and not being able to play it is devastating. But Azzi, you know, she’s torn her ACL before. She was there for me in the whole process, driving me to rehab sessions and making sure I always ate and doing stupid things with me to get my mind off my knee.” A faint smile flickered on the blonde’s lips as she thought to herself. “I probably wouldn’t have survived it without her.”

Azzi swallowed, trying to dissipate the knot forming in her throat. She’d been so furious at Paige just moments before - for minimizing her struggle to find her sexual identity, for trying to make their situation and her feelings so black and white when everything was a muddled grey for her. And now, Azzi was positively vibrating, like she was a little schoolgirl whose crush had just complimented her.

“You see?” Leo shut her laptop, giving Azzi a pointed look. “This is what we’re aiming for.”

Azzi rubbed her palms together, thinking. Paige had callen her confusing, but right now, Paige was the confusing one. She’d essentially told Azzi to go away and never speak to her again, and then pulled shit like this. How could Azzi stay away from her when Paige was putting her name on a banner and waving it for everyone to see?

———————

Paige studied the notepad of plays in front of her. When the circles and xs and lines started blurring together on the paper from her staring at it so hard, she exhaled, letting her eyes shut for a moment.

“Hey,” Geno said gently from besides her. “Stop stressing. The girls got it.”

Paige nodded, looking up to watch her team as they warmed up for the season opener. Every bone in her body itched to be out there, stretching and warming up her shots with her girls. But she couldn’t, and right now she had to trust her team. Besides, she had an important job out here too. She’d helped draw up half of these plays, going over the strategy and who to place where in order to maximize each player’s individual talents and get as many points as possible.

Her eyes fell on Azzi. She looked nervous for her first official debut of her college career, and Paige wanted to mentally send her a message - to tell her to keep her chin up, to play as hard as possible and show everyone why she was the #1 high school recruit of her class. But Paige knew that talking to Azzi now for the first time in a month would probably heighten the girl’s nerves even more, so she kept her mouth shut, forcing herself to look away.

At half time of the game, Azzi had already scored 10 points, but Paige could tell that she was off. The crowds in the stands were large and loud, even for a season opener, and she could tell it was getting to the younger girl’s head by the way she kept missing shots she normally would’ve aced.

Someone tapped Paige’s shoulder from behind her. She turned around and saw a few guys sitting together who looked like they attended UConn. “Hey,” one of them nodded. “You miss being part of the action?”

Paige liked talking to fans, but right now she wanted to focus on the game, so she only gave a quick nod in response before turning around.

Soon, another tap came. Trying not to roll her eyes, she turned around again. “Yes?”

“It looks like your team needs you,” one of the guys chuckled, his eyes fixed on the court. Paige followed his gaze to the girls playing, and right on cue, Azzi sailed another shot. Paige’s heart lurched as the younger girl bit her lip and sprinted back to defense, a hollow look in her eyes.

“You carry the team, bro. Number 35 just missed again. You might need to give her some pointers.” The guy grinned at her, as if what he’d said was a compliment. Then, as if he couldn’t get any more audacity, he whipped out a Sharpie and dropped it on her lap. “By the way, can you sign my jersey?”

Paige stared in disbelief at the Sharpie before she picked it up and threw it at his face. She felt a sadistic sense of satisfaction as the Sharpie hit the guy right in the eye and he howled, hands going to up to massage the area.

“I’m not signing any of your shit,” she growled. “Number 35 has a name, and Azzi Fudd would drop 20 on your sorry ass any day.” With that, she turned around, fury pulsing through her veins and enlivening her senses. She secretly applauded herself for having the self control not to punch the living daylights out of that guy right then and there.

Thankfully, Azzi seemed to get ahold of her nerves after Geno’s inspiring speech at half, going on to score 10 additional points while barely missing any more shots, an impressive performance for a freshman debut. The game ended with Aaliyah pulling through to hit the game-winning buzzer beater.

Deciding that was cause for celebration, the team decided to go to Tim’s for drinks together after. Paige went straight to the bar as soon as they arrived, ordering a Shirley Temple. When she turned around, she came face to face with the guys from the game earlier.

“Hey,” one of them smirked. “Go tell your lesbo girlfriend good job for me. She looked a little rusty tonight but if you give her my number I can help her with that.” Laughing, he threw a crumpled up piece of paper at Paige, hitting her in the chest, and that’s when everything went red.

Flinging her crutches to the side, Paige moved towards him with a ferocity she’d never felt, grabbing the collar of his shirt. “Listen here, motherfucker,” she hissed. “Clearly your mother didn’t teach you any manners so I guess it’s up to me.” She let go, and the guy stumbled back, fear in his eyes. Then she reared her first back and punched him.

The guy cried out in pain, blood gushing from his nose. Incensed, his friends turned on Paige. “Come on,” she becked her hands at them. “Give me all you’ve got.” The guy she’d hit with the Sharpie earlier lunged towards her, but before he could reach her, hands grabbed Paige’s hips and pulled her back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A familiar voice growled into her ear, restraining Paige as her other teammates rushed to intervene.

“I was giving them what they deserved,” Paige said bitterly, turning away from the scene. She shook out her hand, her knuckles aching.

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s three of them and one of you.” Azzi forcefully moved Paige’s hips so that they were facing each other now. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Azzi! Take Paige away before she does any more damage,” Nika demanded as one of the guys she was pushing away started spitting curses at Paige.

Azzi grabbed Paige’s crutches, marching her off to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind them, anger evident in the slanting of her eyebrows and flattening of her mouth. “Are you serious, Paige? Getting into fights at the bar? You could get a suspension for this!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Paige fixed her eyes on the peeling paint on the wall. “I can’t even play anyways.”

“You said you don’t need my help.” Azzi paced back and forth angrily. “But here you are, throwing yourself at the hands of three grown men.”

“I didn’t need your help. I had the situation under control,” Paige said coldly.

Azzi grabbed Paige’s shoulders, shaking them. “You’re in crutches, Paige. You can barely even move. I get that you’re frustrated with your injury but you can’t just ignore it!” Azzi slumped against the sink, her head in her hands. “Why’d you even start attacking them anyways? Nothing is worth putting yourself in danger like that.”

You’re worth it, Paige thought. But she stayed quiet, hoping Azzi’s anger would blow over.

“Are you serious? You’re not even gonna tell me what started this whole thing?” Azzi threw up her hands in exasperation. “Is this what you’re like now? Being all moody and mysterious and hitting people whenever you feel like it? I don’t even know you anymore.”

Paige clenched and unclenched her fist. The soreness was starting to get her. Azzi must’ve noticed, because she took her hand and examined it.

“It’s gonna bruise,” Azzi said, her voice now soft.

Paige shrugged.

Sighing, Azzi gently led Paige’s hand under the faucet. She gently washed away the blood on her knuckles. Paige flinched - not at the pain, but from the all too familiar feeling of Azzi’s fingers touching her.

Azzi managed to find some bandages after rummaging through the cabinets. She slowly wrapped the gauze around Paige’s knuckles, her touch sending electric sparks through Paige’s hand. Neither of them spoke as Azzi patched her up, the tension in the air thick.

Paige swallowed, the silence becoming overbearing. “They were saying things about you.”

Azzi’s eyes shot up, her hand stilling. “What?”

Paige ducked her head, avoiding her stare. “The guys. They were at the game and making stupid comments the entire time, and I mostly ignored them.” She huffed. “But then they came here, and when they said something else, I just lost it.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched. She finished wounding the bandage, but she didn’t let go of Paige’s hand, and Paige didn’t move either. “I don’t need you defending my honor,” Azzi said quietly. Her thumb brushed once against Paige’s knuckles. “People like those guys are always gonna talk. It’s better to just ignore them and not give them what they want.”

Paige grunted, clearly not heeding Azzi’s words.

Azzi’s lips parted. “I miss you.”

Paige grinded her teeth.

“And I know you miss me too.” Azzi put her finger under Paige’s chin, forcing her to make eye contact. “I watched your interview with Leo.”

Paige cursed. “I told her not to show you that.”

“I would’ve seen it eventually, once she published her film.” Azzi studied the blonde’s face, memorizing the features she’d missed so much. Her long eyelashes, the way they fluttered. The wrinkle in the corner of her eyebrow. The turn of her pretty pink lips.

“I know you’re angry that I couldn’t tell you what I wanted. I was still figuring myself out. And these past few weeks, I’ve been working at it. Trying to come to terms with my sexuality.” Azzi took a deep breath, stepping closer. Paige’s hands instinctively went down, brushing the younger girl’s waist as the distance between them grew closer.

“I think I’m bi,” Azzi breathed out. “And if you can’t respect that, then I don’t think we can be together. But I don’t think my sexuality was the issue. I think that you were hurting, and you were impatient, and you wanted an immediate answer, and when I couldn’t give that to you, you ran away.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re killing each other, P,” Azzi whispered. “It’s torture not being able to see you and kiss you every day. And you’re obviously not coping with it any better than I am.” She brought her hands to cup Paige’s face, pressing their foreheads together. Paige relaxed, leaning into her touch.

“I need you, Paige,” Azzi begged. “I need us.”

Paige’s heart erupted, and she closed the gap between them, bringing her lips to Azzi’s and pulling her in for a bruising kiss. Azzi gasped, but recovered quickly, tangling her hands into Paige’s hair.

“‘M sorry,” Paige breathed as soon as they broke apart. “I was so awful. I should’ve never made you feel stupid for trying to figure out your sexuality.” She bit her lip, anguish in her eyes. “It’s just always been so easy for me. I’ve always known I liked girls. I was being hot-headed and I didn’t consider how you were feeling.”

Azzi laughed. “Yeah, that was pretty shitty of you. But I did some selfish shit too.” She nudged her nose with Paige’s. “And I think it’d be fair to call us even.”

Paige trailed her hands up Azzi’s sides. “What I told you at my surgery was complete bullshit. You’re always on my mind, driving me fuckin’ insane. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know. Getting into fights and everything. A little part of me is flattered,” Azzi joked. Paige groaned in embarrassment, hiding her face in the crease of Azzi’s neck. Azzi brought her hands up to rub her back in calming circles. “Everything’s over. We went on the Europe trip, where you ignored me the whole time,” she laughed at that. “And Leo’s done with her film. She’s set to submit it tomorrow.”

Paige nodded, drawing back to look Azzi in the eye. “No more of this fake dating shit. I want you to be my girl for real.” She tenderly caressed Azzi’s cheek, not believing how someone as beautiful and kind as Azzi could want someone like her. “I meant everything I said in the interview, ya know? About how talented you are at basketball and how selfless you are in real life.”

“I know,” Azzi whispered, “I know.”

“I’m gonna take you on a date,” Paige rambled. “A good fucking date. The best date you’ve ever had. Gonna make you forget about all the other girls you’ve ever been with.”

“That sounds great, baby,” Azzi giggled softly, her hand playing with the wisps of hair at the base of Pige’s neck.

“Gonna make you fall in love with me,” Paige mumbled, her head dropping on Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi smiled. You already have, she thought silently.

[proton-wobbler]

Great Backyard Bird Off - Schedule & Info

Round One Schedule

Cosmopolitan - posted February 1st & 2nd - 14 polls

Europe - posted February 11th - 9 polls

Africa - posted February 20th - 9* polls (7 posted)

Australia - posted March 1st & 2nd - 20 polls

New Zealand - posted March 11th - 7 polls

Asia - posted March 20th & 21st - 14 polls

the Americas - posted March 29th & 30th - 16 polls

Eurasia - posted April 8th & 9th - 14 polls

Poll Info

There are 8 brackets, with 208 species featured! Ranges were determined either using the self-report feature added to the submission box or with eBird sightings. "Cosmopolitan" is a bracket involving species of birds which were found on at least three continents, regardless of which they were submitted for. "Eurasia" are birds which seem to appear equally between Europe and Asia (majority of the continent, not just Middle East). "the Americas" includes all of the Americas, with US birds removed- granted, some Canadian or Mexican birds can show up in the US, but they're not common enough backyard birds (imo) to have been disqualified.

Please-- feel free to advocate for whichever bird you vote for! I would love to get some more participation with this tournament, especially since this is a poll with popular bird species.

Polls will be a week long, and are tagged #Great Backyard Bird Off. All subsequent reblogs are tagged as #poll reblog. Be sure to block this tag if you want to avoid me spamming your dash. Any reblogs containing support for a species will be tagged #[species] support. Results will be tagged #poll results.

Bird Support Google Form

vvv Participant List under the Read More vvv

Cosmopolitan (28 species)

Black kite, Black-headed gull, Bohemian waxwing, Canada goose, Common buzzard, C. Chiffchaff, C. Kingfisher, C. Loon, C. Myna, C. Nightingale, C. Swift, Eurasian Collared-dove, Eurasian Hoopoe, Eurasian (Common) Kestrel, Eurasian Tree Sparrow, European bee-eater, European (common) starling, Great crested grebe, Great gray owl, Grey wagtail, Little grebe, Ring-necked pheasant, Red-backed Shrike, Rock Pigeon, Rose-ringed Parakeet, Western barn owl, Western cattle egret, White (pied) wagtail

Europe (18 species)

Tawny Owl, Spotless Starling, Red kite, Middle spotted woodpecker, Great spotted woodpecker, Fieldfare, European Stonechat, E. Robin, E. Herring Gull, E. Goldfinch, Eurasian Green Woodpecker, Eurasian Golden Oriole, Eurasian blackcap, Eurasian (Common) Blackbird, Dunnock, Crested tit, Common wood-pigeon, Eurasian Blue tit

Africa (18 species)

African Harrier-hawk, Bearded barbet, Blacksmith lapwing, Bokmakierie, Cape starling, Cape white-eye, Dark-capped bulbul, Hadada ibis, House bunting, Klaas' Cuckoo, Kwevoel (Grey go-away-bird), Nile valley sunbird, Purple-crested turaco, Red-winged starling, Southern double-collared sunbird, Southern masked weaver, Spotted eagle-owl, White-backed mousebird

Australia (41 species)

Yellow Wattlebird, Willie-wagtail, White-faced Heron, Welcome Swallow, Weebill, Tawny Frogmouth, Tasmanian Nativehen, Superb Fairywren, Sulfur-crested Cockatoo, Splendid Fairywren, Sooty Owl, Red-browed Firetail, Red wattlebird, Rainbow lorikeet, Peid currawong, Pheasant coucal, Pacific koel, Noisy miner, Masked lapwing, Magpie-lark, Little corella, Lewin's honeyeater, Laughing kookaburra, Grey fantail, Grey butcherbird, Gang Gang cockatoo, Galah, Eastern spinebill, Eastern rosella, Crimson rosella, Crested pigeon, Crescent honeyeater, Bush stone curlew (thick-knee), Brown thornbill, Black swan, Bell miner, Austarlian ringneck, Australian magpie, Australian Ibis (Bin Chicken), Australasian Swamphen (Pukeko)

New Zealand (14 species)

Kaka, Kakaruwai (South Island robin), Karearea (NZ falcon), Kereru, Koekoea (Long-tailed Koel), Korimako (NZ bellbird), Yellowhead, Piwakawaka (NZ Fantail), Riroriro (Grey Gerygone), Satin Bowerbird, Silvereye (Tahou), Titipounamu (Rifleman), Tomtit, Tui

Asia (28 species)

Asian Koel, Azure-winged Magpie, Black-collared Starling, Brown-eared Bulbul, Colombo (House) Crow, Common Hill-myna, Eastern Buzzard, Japanese Robin, Light-vented Bulbul, Mandarin Duck, Masked Laughingthrush, Olive-backed Sunbird, Oriental Magpie-robin, Oriental Pied Hornbill, Palau Fruit dove, Palla's Gull, Purple-rumped Sunbird, Red-billed Blue magpie, Red Junglefowl, Red-whiskered bulbul, Ruppell's Weaver, Southern Hill-myna, Spotted dove, Swinhoe's White-eye, Whistling Green-pigeon, White-rumped munia, White-spectacled bulbul, Yellow bittern

The Americas (33 species)

Austral Thrush, Bananaquit, Blue-and-white Swallow, Blue-and-yellow Macaw, Bushy-crested Jay, Canada Jay, Chalk-browed Mockingbird, Chimango, Clay-colored Thrush, Common Potoo, Crimson-fronted Parakeet, Eared Dove, Great Kiskadee, Great Thrush, Green-backed Firecrown, Green-headed Tanager, Hoatzin, Lesson's Motmot, Masked Water Tyrant, Pacific Hornero, Pale-breasted Thrush, Plain Parakeet, Red-rumped Cacique, Ruddy Ground Dove, Rufous Hornero, Rufous-bellied Thrush, Rufous-collared Sparrow, Russet-naped Wood rail, Sayaca Tanager, Southern House Wren, Southern Lapwing, White Bellbird, White-crested Elaenia

Eurasia (28 Species)

Black Redstart, Blue Rock thrush, Carrion Crow, Coal Tit, Common Chaffinch, Eurasian Bullfinch, Eurasian Bittern, Eurasian Jackdaw, Eurasian Jay, Eurasian Magpie, Eurasian Nuthatch, Eurasian Oystercatcher, Eurasian Siskin, Eurasian Sparrowhawk, Eurasian Treecreeper, Eurasian Wren, European Greenfinch, Goldcrest, Great Tit, Hawfinch, Hooded Crow, Long-tailed Tit, Mistle Thrush, Northern Lapwing, Rook, Song Thrush, Spanish Sparrow, Yellowhammer

[radiantrookie]

Sonic Media with weird Canoncity

Classic Games:

With South Island, West Side Island and Angel Island all somehow being home to the Chaos Emeralds and the color and number inconsistancy, it's implied there were multiple sets of Chaos Emeralds before Sonic Adventure retconned it

The Special Stages were described as distortions in Sonic 1, in Triple Trouble they called Subspace and Fang lives in them, however Ian Flynn has retconned the Special Stages as non canon

South Island is depicted as a mystical island that moves around, however not only is this never shown or stated again but also later games have people living on the Island, it’s also stated that the Chaos Emeralds hold South Island afloat and if one gets stolen then the whole Island will sink however that’s most likely no longer canon

Amy was originally 8 like Tails

West Side Island is stated to have Gods who sealed away the Chaos Emeralds, this most likely no longer canon

Knuckles was stated to be the guardian of both Master Emerald and the Chaos Emeralds, however the Chaos Emerald retcon only him the guardian of the Master Emerald

Knuckles is stated to have friends on Angel Island who nickname his “Knuckle”, we have even see houses in Sonic Adventure’s Ice Cap, however it has since been retconned that Knuckles is the only person on Angel Island aside from Chao and Baby Animals

According to Christian Whitehead, the Super Emeralds and Hyper Sonic are canon but Sonic Team doesn’t want them to appear again due to not wanting "multi-tier power level stuff" like Dragon Ball in Sonic, according to Takashi Iizuka, the Super Emeralds got sealed away into another dimension but it’s never explained how, why or where

Sonic Spinball:

Despite the game being based off Sonic Satam with the game taking place on Mobius and the Freedom Fighters and Scratch appearing as cameos, it has been confirmed canon by Ian Flynn, Sonic Origins and the Sonic Channel, Ian has also clarified the cameos are non canon

It's never explained how and why Eggman traveled to Mobius, same goes for Sonic and Tails

Sonic and Tails also ride on a unnamed plane, that same plane appears in Sonic Learns to Drive from the 30th Anniversary Special

The game has 16 Chaos Emerald and they're all blue (though you could argue they're Mobius's Chaos Emeralds and not Earth's)

Sonic Drift Series:

Amy has a sentient car named Breeze, he is never mentioned again, gets replaced in Sonic R, however he returns in Amy's New Hobby as a cameo

Knuckles Chaotix:

Despite being retconned as non canon, with Heroes being their canon depictions, which is why Charmy doesn’t recognize Eggman, however it has been re-retconned as canon thanks to TailsTube

Espio is never mentioned to be a Ninja and his character is a private detective who’s envious of Knuckles for unknown reasons

Vector is a teen and is depicted as a Christian

Charmy’s age is never stated, his personality is stated to be mature and moody and his character is an athlete who is the self proclaimed dearest insect in the world

Heavy and Bomb’s true allegiance is never confirmed and they’re never seen again

Metal Sonic Kai was originally the name of Metal’s rebuilt body, but was retconned to be the name of his unnamed giant red form

Sonic the Fighters (and Dynamite Dux):

The game has 8 Chaos Emeralds, however the 8th one was retconned to be the Warp Topaz in the Fang the Hunter Miniseries

Eggman builds the Death Egg II, but goes back to rebuilding the original in later games

Bean and Bark were introduced as more of Sonic's friends, however they become villains later

Bean is stated to be the son of Bin the Duck from Dynamite Dux, despite being a Woodpecker, it's unknown if this is still canon however both Bin and Pin cameo in Classic IDW Specials

In the intro, Rocket Metal, aka Mecha Sonic 29 appears, unknown if he’s canon

Honey the Cat's canon existence is iffy, however that's only because the character is owned by SEGA AM2 and not Sonic Team

Sonic Adventure:

In Final Egg, Mecha Sonic Mark III is stored in a stasis tube alongside Metal Sonic, no info is given to him at all, he later cameos in IDW Winter Jam

In the US Script, the pink and white flickies are stated to be the parents of Birdie, in JP, they’re stated to be his siblings

In Sonic 3&K, it’s stated the Gods of Angel Island made the island float in the sky, not only are they not mentioned but it’s stated the Knuckles Clan used the Master Emerald to make it float in the sky

Sonic Shuffle:

This game is ignored, and to my knowledge has zero references in Sonic Dream Team

Sonic Battle:

In the US Script, Emerl is stated to a type of robot called a Gizoid that was created by the Fourth Great Civilization, in the JP Script, the Fourth Great Civilization is never mentioned and Gizoid is just Emerl’s original name

The Characters use a bunch of abilities that are never used again, the weirdest one is Amy being able to create clones of Sonic

Amy was stated to live in an apartment in Station Square, but now she lives in Central City

Shadow can use Chaos Control without a Chaos Emerald and is stated to be able to using his memory of Maria, unknown if this is still canon

Chaos Gamma is never seen again

This game has Shadow with his full memories, Shadow 05 ignored this, it's safe to say this game and by extension Advance 3, were retconned to take place after Shadow 05

Sonic Advance 3:

The US manual states Eggman split the Earth in 7 parts, while the JP manual states Eggman split the Earth in 7 pockets of reality, the JP one is most likely canon or else Dark Gaia would've been unleashed

Gemerl becomes weirdly absent and never mentioned until IDW, (though could make the argument that Rush and Free Riders take place before Advance 3)

Shadow 05:

The canon route is never confirmed other than the fact Shadow did the hero mission in Cryptic Castle and made it to Cosmic Fall

Shadow gains two extra forms, Hero Shadow and Dark Shadow, Dark Shadow reappears in Shadow Gens’s narration intro but Hero Shadow never appears again

In the English Script during the Devil Doom boss fights, Eggman explains to Shadow that he was rescued by one of his robots at the end of SA2, in the JP script, Eggman states it was one of his mechs, presumably the Eggwalker

Sonic’s Home

In Classic Games, Sonic was stated to live on South Island

In Sonic Battle, it was stated he lives in Emerald Town

We see his home in Sonic Harmony Artwork, Sonic Shuffle and the beginning of Sonic and the Secret Rings

However it’s been retconned that Sonic doesn’t have a house

Sonic 06:

Due to the Game being rushed, it’s never explained why Blaze was sent to Silver’s Future other than the fact the game was meant to be a prequel to Rush, it’s also been confirmed that Iblis is still bound to Blaze’s soul so it’s possible the game was an origin to her pyrokinesis and her gameplay could be non canon

Silver’s ending depicted Blaze dying as Iblis gets sealed inside her, however Ian Flynn claims it’s actually Blaze transforming into Burning Blaze because she had the Sol Emeralds with her the entire time during 06?

Elise apparently had the future version of the Blue Chaos Emerald the whole time and somehow every emerald detector used in the series never picked it up

Shadow is stated to have a 200 IQ, this is never brought up again

Amy can turn invisible, she never does this again

Sonic Rivals:

Eggman Nega is a villain in both series, however in the Rush games he’s Eggman’s Sol Dimensions counterpart and Blaze’s archenemy, but in Rivals he’s Eggman’s descendant who hates Eggman for ruining the Robotnik name and is Silver’s archenemy, the Rivals one being the canon version

The Sonic Rivals series being canon is weird itself as despite it being the canon appearances of Silver and Eggman Nega’s current origins, the series was never released in Japan

Sonic Riders:

People assumed this series wasn’t canon due to everyone’s new outfits, the futuristic cities and Babylon Rogues only appearing in these games, however they’ve been confirmed canon, even with a Sonic PICT artwork confirming Metal City is near the Mystic Ruins

Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games:

Despite Crossover games not being canon:

Eggman Nega’s portal technology from Winter Games DS appears in a Sonic Channel Comic

A Sonic Channel Cover Story mentions the that Cream was an assistant for the Olympics

Sonic Colors (+Runners):

The game introduces the infamous Two Worlds retcon because of 90s mofos complaining about humans being in Sonic, which Eggman says he wants to conquer “Sonic’s World” instead of Earth, it was reretconned later

Both the Console and DS version are somehow canon, with the DS version heaving exclusive Wisps that reappear, introduction of the Mother Wisp and Silver and Blaze meeting, despite this, the DS content wasn’t included in Sonic Colors Ultimate

In the English Script, Nega Wisps are stated to be Wisps drained of their power, in the JP script, Nega Wisps are angered Wisps, the JP explanation explains why the Nega Wisps still exist but Rise of Wisps oddly uses the US canon

Sonic Runners gave an explanation as to why the Wisps are on Earth, stating they liked it after the events of Colors, however when Runners got discontinued, it got decanonized

Sonic Lost World 3DS:

Despite the game having the same plot as Console, it’s stated not to be canon despite:

Exclusive Wisps reappearing

Tails’s Lab from that version appearing in TailsTube and Sonic PICT artwork

Sonic Forces + Speed Battle:

The game infamously retcons Classic Sonic to be from another dimension despite being the same one from Generations who was past Sonic, this was reretconned later

The game states Eggman created the Phantom Ruby despite Sonic Mania and the tie in comics saying otherwise, even with reretcon, the Phantom Ruby Prototypes are still a mystery

According to Nibroc Rock, Speed Battle is somehow canon with the only explanation being every character in that game is a phantom copy but its not explained when it takes place or how there’s copies of Movie, LEGO and Angry Birds characters

The weird Post Forces Era:

Sonic Mania Adventures was originally non canon but it’s been canonized to take place during the Angel Island section of Encore Mode somehow

Team Sonic Racing, the first IDW saga, TailsTube 2 and the Sonic Channel stories all somehow take place after Forces and even state it was their last battle with Eggman

With TSR, the track Frozen Junkyard was stated to be a scrapyard for Eggman’s machines which is why a Death Egg Robot appears, Amy and Vector’s vehicles also appear in Post Metal Virus IDW, however this issue seems to have been fixed as the Sonic Channel Cover Stories state the Death Egg Robots were created on Egg Planet Park, making the game take place before Forces

Sticks the Badger:

Her only canon appearance is in the Sonic Channel comics

She’s mentioned by Amy in the English version of Frontiers

TMOSTH:

Evan Stanley claims it’s or canon, Chris Hernandez claims the real answer will be revealed someday

Barry and the Conductor appear in IDW

Sonic Speed Simulator:

Ian Flynn states he was told it was non canon but Nibroc Rock states he was told it was canon which is why dead characters couldn’t be playable, the current answer seems to be that game is temporarily non canon until they find a way to canonize it

[kukurykunapatyku]

[I.D.: Drawing of Usopp and Vinsmoke Niji from One Piece. They're both seen from the side, circling around each other, Usopp is aiming his slingshot and Niji is brandishing an electrified sword. Usopp wears sniper king mask, red cape, green pants, brown shoes and blue-white arm warmers. Niji wears black cape with blue '2' on it, blue costiume and yellow-blue boots, he's smirking. /End I.D.]

Vinsmoke shipping week day 4: Red string / Hero x Villain

The neferious Germa group is terrorizing the streets, but fear not, because the great Sniper King is here to save you!

Strawhats are semi-superhero team. Luffy doesn't care about crime, it just happens that bad guys usually target his friends for some reason. Nami somehow convinced him to at least cover his face when they beat up guys on live television.

Niji gets a crush on two people at once and tries to deal with it in completly normal matter - by proving they're actually the same person (he's right).

⬇️Fanfic under readmore⬇️ also on Ao3

Niji carefully pinned the photo next to the others. He frowned, adjusted two more to fit the rest better and stepped back to admire his work. Photos, bus schedules, discarded papers, shard broken off the Sniper King mask, piece of fabric - all gathered together. There was just one thing to do and his board would be complete. He grinned, pulled out a ball of red yarn and began connecting the pins until they formed one massive web of evidence. And like a spider ready for dinner, he finally found that one fly that was pulling at its strings, and come to the single possible conclusion.

"And why, pray tell, do you think one of your regular customers is part of the superhero team? The one that always thwarts father's plans no less?"

"Don't you see?" Niji slammed the board. "It's all here!"

"All I see is an, admittingly ambitious, art project made of coincidences and stalking tendencies."

"Listen, it's too much to just be a coincidence, at this point it's proof."

Ichiji sighed and closed the book he was reading.

"Fine, lets indulge you. What proof?"

"First of, they drink the same coffee - both take exactly two sugar cubes, one puff of cream and two pumps of caramel syrup."

"Why do you know how Sniper King takes his coffee?"

Niji looked at him like he was stupid

"Because I asked him? He's my nemesis, I need to know those things."

"Your nemesis?" Ichiji stuttered. "Since when??"

"About two months ago; we were picking them, don't you remember? You took the witch."

Ichiji tapped his fingers on the table. That didn't sound right, he was sure if something like this happened he would have remembered. If they did it there must have been a purpose, but what? Battle strategies? Did father know? Was Ichiji supposed to tell him? And he picked the Weather Witch? What on earth could Niji be talking about-

Suddenly very tired, Ichiji put his hand on his face and slowly pulled it down.

"Niji. We played 'Fuck, Marry, Kill' about the Strawhats. How did this turn into nemesis thing?"

"Ain't that the same thing? Anyway, we're getting off track." He pointed at the blurry photo of a dark alleyway. "See?"

"See what?"

"Argh, do I have to do everything here? Look, here, it's Sniper's cape!"

Ichiji leaned forward and squinted. True, in the left corner, near the bins, there was something that could be a fragment of red fabric. Or an unlucky rat.

"I followed Usopp one evening and I lost him somewhere here," his finger followed one of the red lines until it reached a cutout of city's map, with big circle drawn in the middle of it. "But I'm sure he didn't walk much further, because he was carrying four of those babies." He tapped on the stock picture of an ice-cream package. "There were other shops on his way and he only stopped to buy them here." Next map had a red cross slapped on it. "Which means he was probably coming closer to home. Other stores in the neighborhood are over there, there, there and there. Since he didn't visit those, he must live somewhere before the road could reach any of them, or he would have just buy ice-cream there."

Niji looked at his brother expectantly. "See now?"

Ichiji blinked a few times. That was impressive recon work, and he could probably agree with him... If he knew what point he was even trying to make.

"So... you think the coffee guy lives somewhere between these streets." He pointed at the marked portion of the map. "But what does it have to do with your theory?"

"Everything! I just showed you, I found a piece of Sniper's cape next to the houses there, it's evidence!"

Ichiji massaged his temples and counted to ten. Did he have to do this? He could just leave. Maybe call Yonji so Niji could bother someone else.

But then, a voice in his head said, you have no excuse if father suddenly decides he wants an audience to hear about another freaking death ray.

If he had to listen to his family's ramblings...

"It's just red fabric, it doesn't necessary mean anything. Plus, your guy could be going to his friends house, or a party. Four boxes of ice-cream is a lot for one person."

Niji waved him away.

"Oh no, I know Usopp will eat it. He once told me he can do even five if he puts his mind to it. Calls it his 'depression repression' meal. And!" He pulled a clipped cloth Ichiji failed to notice before. "Sniper doesn't use any shabby materials! His cape is waterproof, fireproof, really hard to rip and can even withstand acid for a while. And guess what? This piece I took from the alley is exactly that!"

Ichiji sincerely hated that he actually started to consider this. "Still, you can't be sure. A lot of people live there. Plus, if I was trying to hide my identity, I wouldn't throw damming evidence with my garbage. It's more likely, if it even is the same material, that it was thrown there by somebody passing by."

Niji sneered, annoyed that the argument actually made sense.

"We all are hiding our identity; why 'if'?"

"Father's hightech company is one letter away from just spelling his evil codename, we lost a member around the same time Sanji, very publicly, left the family and we barely cover our faces when we go out. Are we hiding our identities?"

"It's different, we're rich. We can do whatever we want and so one will accuse us."

"That just proves my point. I doubt Sniper can afford being find out, so he's probably more cautious handling his leftovers."

"Maybe he's rich too, you don't know that. I mean, he's not since I know it's Usopp, but. Well. Doesn't matter, because I have even more evidence!"

He gestured at another portion of the board, with two papers on it. One seemed to be a photo of Sniper taken in the middle of battle, even more unfocused than the others. The other was a printed selfie of darkskinned guy around 20 years old, with long curly hair and wide smile. But the first thing that caught attention was his- Oh no.

"As you can see," Niji gloated, "they have the same nose!"

Ichiji slammed his forehead on the table.

The twin bang could be heard across the city, in an unkempt apartment (that on paper was shared by five people, which really downplayed how many actually passed by it).

"For the last time Usopp, your favourite barista is not Dengeki Blue just because the hair match!

[earthling55]

Hello what’s up ?

Request daemon Targaryen x witch reader if is possible.

I don’t know if you watched The vampire diaries or The originals, but I would love see daemon married ou have for a lover a witch. She make medicines and have a room with weird stuff. She freaks everyone out.

Have a good day 😘

Hi! I hope you like it. It's been ages since I watched The Originals, so I can't remember it that well (also don't know why I made the reader pregnant - it's just what came to mind). Anyways, here it is.

Untamed Emotions

The child in your womb kicked hard against your spine, causing you to double over in pain even as you continue stirring the pot.

You call it a pot, it's really a large cauldron. Made of thick cast iron, it safely protects the pot from the murky green potion inside.

You throw in the last ingredient: red berries of the Wvyr tree. The potion responds in turn, quickly turning from its light blue to a lovely murky green and omitting a slightly sour smell. A smell that, even as it has you running to the bin, brings a smile to your face.

It's finally ready.

You had been working on this brew for months, and it was finally ready.

Suddenly, oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

There was an itch in your nose, and try as you might, you could not hold your hair back, vomit, and itch it at the same time.

You sneeze violently, your magic mixing with the fiery blood of your husband and leading you to emit a sparky puff of magic. It tears through the room, spilling over everything, including the one potion you had spent months trying to make, not to mention years researching.

Tears well up in your eyes at the sight. All of that hard work, just gone in the blink of an eye.

You couldn't do anything to stop it as the tears bubbled up, spilling over your bright green eyes and down your cheeks before finally dripping onto the hard stone floor below.

That's how Daemon found you, hours later. You were still sobbing, though now you were sitting against the wall clutching your bump, staring at all your ruined work through bleary eyes.

Your emotions had run rampant in the hours since it happened.

First, you cried. Fat, angry tears streamed down your face in rivers that seemed never-ending until, at last, they stopped.

Then, you got angry, but try as you might, no amount of screaming or yelling could put it all back together.

No matter how loud you got, no one came to check on you. The servants and staff far too scared of your powers to attempt any kind of help or show you any kind of kindness, for that matter.

Your anger turned to fuel, but try as you might, you could not lift the cauldron.

Oh, curse your weakened state.

You screamed. You wailed. You threw your fist at the sky, but alas, nothing seemed to work. And to make matters worse, your magic was completely out of wack.

But your anger soon turned to tears again, and that's what left you crouched against the wall cradling your bump.

He came in slowly, taking in the demolition that was your current workshop before kneeling before you on the floor.

You were a right state, the edge of your once beautiful lilac dress now stained beyond repair. Your hair, once beautifully braided and pinned with a variety of jewels, now lies halfway undone, tendrils of it curling around your face.

'Hey,' he coos softly, and by God, you wish you were in a state to appreciate the soft side of Daemon that few got to see.

'Hey, what's wrong? What happened?'

'I sneezed,' you whine, hands raising and dropping to your sides dramatically. Part of you knows you're being overdramatic, but you can't help it.

These damn baby hormones.

He's quick to crouch down to your level, wrapping you in a warm embrace as he listens.

You can feel him stifling a laugh even as he tucks his head in the crook of your neck, and it infuriates you.

And then, you can't believe it, but you're punching him. Hitting him anywhere you can hit even as you're crouched in such an uncomfortable position.

'It's. not. funny.'

Your weak punches humor him even more, as he steps back from you with a soft smile on his face. It only works to make you angrier, but like before, the anger quickly morphs into tears that spill down your cheeks in a seemingly never-ending river.

You wipe at them furiously.

'Where are they coming from!'

Gently, he pries your hands away from your face, taking in your sullen state and quivering lips.

And then, you're hoisted up into the air, safely cradled in his arms as he carries you bridle-style, the messy remains of your workshop nothing more than a bad memory as you come into view of your shared chambers.

Any servants milling about dive out of view as the two of you approach. The stares that previously never bothered you suddenly make you feel shy, and you snuggle deeper into Daemon's embrace as he walks.

He's only too happy to oblige you, sending withering looks to any and all servants even as he keeps his sharp tongue firmly shut.

It's highly unusual behavior for the Rouge Prince, but he can't help it.

His only priority right now is you.

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 21. brb x oc

a/n: okay this chapter was sweet. uwu (also yeah, guess Evelyn's father is finally known ehe)

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none besides fluff, the girls having fun and Rooster being a mush hearted guy uwu

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21

-

It’s been two weeks since they last talked and while she felt a bit anxious sometimes, she knew deep in her heart he was okay, he was just very busy and couldn’t chat all the time. He told her the time they’d all come back, so she shouldn’t be so worried, even if her brain would sometimes pop less than welcome suggestions of outcomes she knew it was just her anxiety playing tricks on her.

Shells and Penny both knew the time Bob and Mav were coming back as well, the older woman being the voice of reason when the other two would get too into their heads with fears and worries. When asked how she did it, Penny said she’s been without Pete for a long time but something inside of her always said they’d see each other again, the feeling never disappeared whenever he was away so she used that as confirmation that he’ll be fine.

But Beatrice understood her words, because while her brain would rattle with anxious thoughts her heart would calm her down with words of ‘he’s okay, he’s coming back.’. Beatrice always thought the voice in her head, the intuition voice, often sounded like her nonna’s thick Sicilian accent. 

She enjoyed working at the bar because it gave her a distraction, especially now that Penny got that fancy ice machine and they’d stop using the bags of ice. While they did help, it was just because the old machine started acting weird and Penny didn’t want it to suddenly go out in the middle of a busy night. So now they are just preparing the bar for when the machine arrived, which would be on this Friday afternoon, thankfully Penny let the patrons know that, meaning the chances of anyone showing up were minimal.

Even if they did, the doors would be locked and there’d be a huge ‘under maintenance’ sign pinned on it. Hopefully they’d be back up to speed on Saturday night. 

Right now,they were all cleaning the bar for when the machine got there, moving stuff out of the way so it’d be spacious enough for it to pass. Shells took some trash out while the two other women were inside, making her way to the green trash bin down the street, looking up when she saw something move ahead of her.

Her steps slowed down while her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, keeping her eyes on a woman who stood on the beach like a sore thumb. She opened the bin with her vision still on the lady, dropping the trash bags inside, narrowing her eyes a bit. The woman had thick and long black hair that fluttered with the wind alongside her long geometric patterned red and blue dress, her arms up in what she could only describe as a ‘praise to the sun’ position. 

Shells didn’t know if she should say something, so she didn’t, she just backed away silently into the bar. Once she got in, she jutted her thumb over her shoulder “Never thought I’d say that, but I saw a hippie lady on the beach,” Penny stopped her cleaning to stare at her niece, “Swear to God, long colorful dress and everything.”

“Did she say something?” Shells shook her head negatively, walking further into the bar.

“I didn’t get close,” with her back turned she didn’t see Beatrice walking back from the storage room with a clean rag in her hands, “I swear I thought it was Janis Joplin coming back from the dead, half expected her to sing Me and Bobby McGee.” Beatrice’s question of who they were talking about made Shells turn her body to face the brunette, “Some lady on the beach, she was like preaching the sun or something.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, had this long boho dress and everything.” she didn’t notice how Beatrice’s face changed, “Long black hair too, it was like we were back in 1969.”

Beatrice blinked, parting her lips, “Where did you see her?” Shells explained the location past the trash bins, frowning at Bea’s expression before the brunette walked out of the bar to check the outside. The woman in question was no longer on the beach, now she was walking through the parking lot with her sandals hooked on her fingers, long black hair moving with the wind, “Oh my God…” Shells peeked over Bea’s shoulder, “That’s my aunt.”

“...your…aunt??” she repeated, “I…your aunt is a hippie? Listen don’t get me wrong but I met your parents, they are anything but free love friendly.”

“My aunt was always the odd one out,” Beatrice explained, looking back at Penny, “Can I just talk to her real quick? She never comes down here.” the older woman nods and Beatrice wipes her hands on her jeans, walking out of the Hard Deck to meet the statuesque figure of her aunt coming closer. 

Her aunt, who looked younger than her own age - blessings on the dna - smiled when Beatrice approached, opening her arms wide, “Hello my love,” her soft spoken tone said, humming happily when Beatrice hugged her, the black haired woman squeezing her niece tighter, “Oh, I’m really happy to see you.”

Unlike her twin, Beatrice’s father, Martha’s Italian accent was milder but it came out whenever she had to roll her r’s and the vowel was open, which added to her soft spoken voice made her sound almost mystical. While her siblings joked their own mother was a witch, they were sure that aunt Martha was a witch without a doubt, “I’m happy to see you too but,what are you doing here,auntie?”

Martha smiled, looking up to the sky, “I felt like taking a walk.”

“...from–from your house?” the other woman nods and Beatrice blinks, “But you live in Escondido…”

“I used my bike silly.” her aunt giggles,as if it wasn’t still a three hours ride “I didn’t really walk all the way down here.” her aunt’s eyes shone with mirth, looking down at her niece, cupping her cheeks and turning her head left and right, before closing her eyes in silence. Beatrice blinked, waiting for her aunt to say something, ‘You feel lighter, my love,” her aunt says with her eyes still closed, “Your heart feels free, like a sparrow…my darling girl you are in love.”

Now she wasn’t expecting that type of information. Okay, her aunt was the mystical sort of woman who she was sure could control the weather if she so desired, but she still freaked her out a bit when she said things like that, “I-I…”

“Yes…yes you are in love,” Martha opened her eyes to show the light brown irises staring down at her niece,  “What a joy it is.” she drops her hands from Bea’s cheeks, to place both of her own on top of her heart, “I am very happy for you.”

‘...t-thank you auntie,” Beatrice looked over her shoulder to the Hard Deck, a blonde head peeking out with her eyebrows furrowed “Um…but you didn’t say why you showed up. Is everything okay?”

“Why, everything is more than okay.” Martha smiles, “I simply wanted to see you…and give you this.” from a hidden pocket in her dress, Martha pulls out an envelope, an envelope that looked a lot like the wedding invitation Bea got months ago. The brunette blinked, her eyes going from the envelope to her aunt, before she slowly grabbed it from her hand.

“Um…auntie you already invited me, remember?I’m one of your bridesmaids.” she chuckles softly, moving her eyes downward to the cream colored envelope, “Why would you need to–” the name written on the paper, in curved bronze letters, was her name…and Bradley’s. Beatrice’s soul left her body and she immediately paled while looking down at the invitation, holding with both hands now. No, she asked her parents to not do this! 

“Your father thought it’d be a good idea.” Martha smiles, oblivious to her niece’s turmoil, “So, it’s your new invitation, I even told the hotel to prepare the room for two.” Beatrice’s wide eyes slowly moved upwards to her grinning aunt, “Everyone will be so happy to meet him.”

Yes, every single one of her family members on both of her parents sides, including the ones from Sicily “O-Oh,” Bea’s words were soft and quiet, with a slight tremble to them, “How nice of you, a-auntie, but–” her aunt just smiles more, nodding her head “But,um he’s deployed and I don’t…think he’ll be here before the wedding,” that was a lie, obviously, but her aunt didn’t have to know that. Her aunt, amazingly just blinked in her direction, she had a feeling that the woman didn’t believe her one bit.

“Well my darling, something in me says he’ll be back sooner than that.” Bea’s smile faltered with an awkward laugh leaving her lips, “Trust me, it will be fine.” her aunt leans down to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead, who in turn stays immobile, not being able to say anything in return, “I’ll see you two then.”

“But–”

“Je t’aime mon petit Beatrice, au revoir!” her aunt waves her goodbye with a flourish, long dress flapping with the wind as she makes her way back to her bike, climbing on it and riding away from the Hard Deck. Beatrice dropped her arms to her sides, backing away until she touched the walls of the bar, her eyes staring at nothing.

Shells walked out to meet her outside, looking from the brunette to the strange woman riding away on her bike, “Sooo…what did she want?” She got no reply, but she saw Bea lift a shaky hand to show an envelope, “You want me to–okay,” she picked the envelope up, seeing her name and Rooster’s on the paper. “...ah.” the brunette slides down onto the sidewalk, placing her head on her hands, with Shells crouching next to her, “I guess you didn’t plan on this, huh?”

“I told my parents I didn’t want to take Brad, do you know how many people will be there in total?? Over one hundred!” Beatrice groans, slapping her hands over her eyes “God not to mention my cousins who will immediately sniff the fresh new man within a five miles radius and hound him like a pack of starving hyenas, making jokes about how much I paid for his company.” 

Shells frowned, flipping the envelope back and forth, “So what do you plan on doing? He was invited.” Beatrice dropped her hands to her sides, looking at the envelope for a good five seconds before she snatched it from Shells’ hand.

“I’m going to hide it and use my own invitation to get in. He doesn’t need to know.”

“I mean…sure, but wouldn’t that also give something for your family to talk about?” Shells added helpfully, “How possible is it that most of them know about him?”

“...very possible.” the brunette sighed, running a hand through her haid, “I-I can’t do this to him, can you imagine? I wanted him to meet my family, my parents and siblings, not the whole pack of wolves. God, my uncle Roberto will ask him about the Navy and make comparisons to when he went to war too,uuuuuuuuuughh…”

Shells pursed her lips, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear when the wind picked up, only to grab the invitation from Bea’s hand again, “I think you should at least mention it to him, then he could say if he thinks it’s okay to go or not.” she says, “He’s a big boy, Bea, he has the right to say yes or no.”

“...I…you are right.” she sighs, the back of her head hitting the wall as she looks up to the clouds slowly rolling by, “I can’t just do that, he has to give me his answer…and I hate it. I hate it because I know my whole family way too much…but, you are right.”

“Like always,” Shells smiles, standing up alongside Bea who laughs in response, “But how about we go out tonight? To relax?We won’t come to work after all.”

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“I do, I was thinking of The Singing Stop, that karaoke bar with those private booths for you to use instead of a stage,” she pulls out her phone, “Friday is free for the ladies and if you go in a trio you get extra chicken wings.”

“Were you planning on inviting Penny?”

“I tried,” Shells said, flicking through her phone, “But she said she’d like to stay home with Melia tonight, so, who is our next option? Who’s the one person who’d always be up for Karaoke night? Evelyn.”

Evelyn did love karaoke, Shells wasn’t wrong. She’d get very into it, pulling a whole performance while singing too, “Well, okay, sure. Did you talk to her yet?”

“Um, yes,” she says, following Bea inside the bar, “I sure did, she already said yes. By the way, we’ll definitely get hammered so we’ll need an Uber.” Beatrice frowned, looking back at the blonde with a worried face “Okaaay, maybe not that hammered, just enough to see double.”

It was Penny’s voice that interrupted their talking, walking past them holding a bucket of water, “as long as the two of you can stand tomorrow night, that’s fine by me.” she chuckles, “Now come on, we have to finish everything in fifteen minutes.”

-

“They better have Mr.Brightside or I’m rioting.” Evelyn said as they walked into the karaoke bar, the 70s color palette of reds, yellows and blues adorning them. Evelyn was the first to walk to one of the employees, asking for a private room alongside a qr code menu, giving the other two a smile when the man said to follow him.

The room was yellow with inner lights on the walls, shining down the U shaped dark blue seats in front of a tv and a coffee table separated the two parts of the couch to be in front of one another. Once they all got inside and closed the door, Evelyn removed her dark suit jacket to expose the black tube top underneath, already checking the songs while Bea and Shells took their seats.

Shells would be the one responsible for the drinks and snacks for the night, “Okay, we already have extra chicken wings but what are we feeling tonight for drinks? I think we should get some beer.”

“I’m okay with that,” Ev said, still looking for her song with her back to the two, “Beer and chicken wings, nothing better.”

“I’m okay with it too,” said Bea, placing her green jacket to the side, combing her hair over her shoulder while crossing her legs by the knee as Shells set their order. The brunette tilted her head to Evelyn, who let out a sound of triumph when she found her song, she didn’t play it yet, instead she let the name hover on the screen before sitting down next to Bea with a sigh.

“When was the last time the three of us went out together?” Evelyn asked, crossing her own legs.

“Oh, oof,” Beatrice chuckles, looking away to wrack her memory, “I think it was two weeks after grad? Then we all went our own ways.”  she turns towards Evelyn with a small smile, “How’s it going on getting the old team back?”

Evelyn sighed, her lips pursing in a frown, “Honestly, I managed to get Eliza and Carmen too, but like, Tori? Out of the question, she joined an MLM and would just offer us her products instead of playing for real.”

“We all knew Tori was weird,” Shells voice said, lowering her phone once the order was sent, “So I won’t lie and say she’ll be missed, cause she won’t.” 

The three women reminisced for a while longer until their snacks arrived. Shells made sure to record their night out to the best of her ability, saying it was a once in a lifetime thing, they needed to have it archived for the future. 

“Okay, I think I’ll tackle the elephant in the room,” Shells began, gesturing a chicken bone to Evelyn’s direction, “Why isn’t Ms.Evelyn Simpson dating anyone?” the dark haired woman rolled her eyes, choosing to sip her beer instead, “Because we know you are a looker, you could have any guy you wanted.”

“Is your dad a vice admiral?” Evelyn retorted, arching her eyebrows, “Is he a pain in the ass?”

“You can’t prevent yourself from dating because of your dad, Ev,” Bea replied softly, wiping her mouth with a napkin, “Who knows? Maybe there’s a perfect guy for you somewhere, just waiting.”

“Or maybe it’s just Hangman.” Shells snickered, laughing louder when Beatrice tossed the napkin her way, with the blonde’s laughter diminishing to quiet giggles.

“I’d rather chug a gallon of bleach,” Evelyn murmured, “He’s so typical, like he’s a mold of every navy type there is…unlike Bea’s pilot.” she gestured her thumb in the brunette’s direction, “By the way, let’s be honest, the two of them are nauseating.” she said to Shells, who cackled even louder much to their curvy friend’s surprise, “I mean, good God I thought I’d develop type 2 diabetes just by standing near them.”

“Babes you have no idea.” Shells smirks, “It’s so painfully sweet I swear I feel like vomiting sometimes.”

“...I don’t know how to feel about all that…”

Evelyn smiled, draping her arms over Bea’s shoulder, “You should be happy because while we both feel our teeth rotting, we like seeing you with someone who likes you so much.,” Shells nods in agreement, lifting her beer “Because you deserve it, after all the shit He Who Shall Not Be Named did to you.” 

The two of them were with Beatrice during the last months of her relationship with Eric, they were with her when she’d had her panic attacks and they were with her when she shared she wanted to end things for real this time. They really just wanted the best for Beatrice, which they knew for a fact it wasn’t Eric, so when she finally cut things off with him, they had a celebration…at a karaoke bar.

“...Thanks guys, I really,” Beatrice blushed, looking down at her hands, “I really like Bradley,” she almost said the L word again but she didn’t feel like saying it now, not without Brad knowing it first “He’s very special to me.”

“Just please name your first kid after me,” Shells added, “‘Cause without me, neither of you would’ve gotten together. Evelyn you should’ve seen it, it was like two pre school kids who never acted up, Ugh! Rooster just kept looking at Bea who only looked at him when he wasn’t looking and it was driving me insane. I had to step in.”

Beatrice hummed, narrowing her eyes playfully at her friend but only sipping her beer with a little smile, “Well,I thank you for stepping in then, I’m very very happy…which reminds me, what about you and Bob?” It was interesting to see how Shells’ expression softened and she touched the rim of her bottle with a little smile.

“I like him a lot too.” The usually loud blonde said quietly, “He’s so sweet, a bit shy at first but, he’s incredibly sweet…and god he’s so good in bed. You’d never think so under that sweet façade he has.But it’s like the phrase goes: gentleman in the streets, freak in the sheets!”

The laughter reverberated around the room, with the three girls clicking their bottles together in celebration. Not long after that, Evelyn wiped her hands clean to stand to her feet, grabbing the mic, “Okay, it’s my time to shine.”

“You always choose Mr.Brightside,” Shells chuckled, “Don’t you have other options?”

“Listen as an emo child of the 2000’s I have to start with this song, either that or Helena by MCR.” she explains, shrugging before pressing play so the known melody would start. Evelyn would always get into the songs, no matter what kind, so when she stood still as a rod in the middle of the room with the mic to her mouth, “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine-”

Shells lifted her phone to record Evelyn’s performance, who while in the beginning of the song stood still as a rod, tossed her head forward violently once she hit the ‘but this is the price I pay!’, clenching the air dramatically, with her hair tossing back when ‘Mr.Brightside left her mouth.

The other two girls cheered, clapping their hands when Evelyn continued her performance, kicking and headbanging and playing air guitar until she finally dropped to her knees when the song ended with her chest heaving. She was glistening with sweat, like she was the one in concert instead of The Killers, but she smiled at her friends hollering her name. 

Evelyn gracefully stood to her feet, bowing in thanks “Okay, who’s next?”

“Oh, me!” Shells scrambled to her feet, giving Bea the phone “I wanna sing Get Outta My Way, by Kylie.”

“Oh my god, and you call me a song repeater??”

“Um, I choose a variety of Kylie songs okay? My queen deserves nothing less.” Shells smiles, flipping through the list until she finds it. Much like Evelyn, she too put on a performance with a lot of hair flipping and hand motions, mimicking some of Kylie Minogues’ choreography - some not even from this specific song - but either she was having a blast, while Evelyn and Bea cheered on, the latter filming the whole ordeal.

When she was done with the song, she finished with the mic up in the air and a tired smile on her face, waving off the clapping with a smile, “Okay, now,” she offers the mic to Beatrice, who blinks up in surprise, “Your turn bumblebea.”

“Oh, oh okay.” Beatrice switched the phone for the mic, adjusting her ripped jeans on her legs before looking at her friends, “I never know what song to sing.”

With the phone up, Shells shouts, “Great Balls of Fire! Do it! Sing it!”

“I don’t even know if they have it!” The idea of singing Rooster’s songs suddenly made her cheeks heat up, but she couldn’t help but be excited if she could sing it. So she turned to the TV, biting her lower lip while checking the song list, “Oh my god…they do. Should I sing it?”

“Yes!” Shells shouted, “You better do that! Sing for your man away from you!”

Beatrice laughed nervously, she didn’t know why she was so nervous about singing it. She wished she was singing it with Rooster…but, well, he wasn’t here. She hoped he wouldn’t be upset because she did it without him. With one final breath of courage, she pressed play, biting her lower lip while smiling as the known piano keys appeared.

It took her some time to let loose, even with the beer in her system, she felt a bit awkward while singing along. Until the first Great Balls of Fire made itself known, then she just got into it. Between shimmying her shoulders and dramatic hand motions, Shells was sure Beatrice’s movements were very similar to Rooster’s whenever he played it.

She didn’t plan on telling her friend of the video she’d send the pilot, just because she didn’t want Bea to be against it. Evelyn and Shells hooted for Beatrice whenever she moved with the song, clearly happy to see their friend having so much fun. By the time the song ended, Beatrice was breathing hard but smiling even harder, laughing when the other two stood up to hug her close.

They stood there for a couple more hours, between drinking and singing - even singing together to Katy Perry’s California Gurls with Shells demanding to sing Snoop Dogg’s part on the song - until they left the bar. They were stumbling a bit, but not enough to consider themselves too drunk to know what they were doing.

They didn’t plan on going home yet, so they just wandered up the street laughing to one another - Evelyn almost losing her balance twice only for Beatrice to hold her up. They ended up in an empty skate park, still singing and dancing like the music was still playing. 

Shells pointed the phone up to the dancing Beatrice, who sang Madonna’s Like a Virgin while moving much like in Tiff’s class, “Hey Bea!” the brunette stopped, looking right at the camera, “Can you do something for me?”

-

Bradley yawned quietly, rubbing his face as he lay on the bottom bunk, grabbing his phone to set his alarm. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw that Shells sent him a message on instagram. He had no idea why she’d message him and not Bob, but if he knew Shells it was nothing good.

So he opened it, expecting some weird meme she found online…but it wasn’t. Instead it was several videos of no one other but Beatrice. He looked up at the top bunk, hearing Fanboy turn on his mattress, before he leaned into his bag to pick up his air pods. Once connected he thumbed the screen up to the first video, pressing play and his whole body reacted when he noticed the song Beatrice was singing along to.

His lips parted in surprise, watching her move and sing to her heart’s content to his song. Well, not his song but the song he would always play at the bar. Rooster could only watch, mesmerized, watching his girlfriend sing Great Balls of Fire on a karaoke machine, laughing and dancing, almost oblivious to Shells’ filming her. He let out a soft laugh, then covered his mouth when she flipped her hair and pursed her lips at the ‘you kissed me baby!’ part of the song, shimmying her shoulders along with the beat.

The video stopped and he had to mentally recover from what he just saw, before he went to the next one which was Beatrice this time singing I Want to Know What Love is by Foreigner, just into the song as the first one before watching the last one that was I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston. She looked really gorgeous whenever she had fun, with her laugh leaving her lips and dancing like there was nothing stopping her.

He couldn’t help but also notice how beautiful she looked, with her sleeveless turtleneck top and ripped jeans, hair flowy and shining under the lights. God he missed her so much. Did Shells send that to him just to make him suffer? Because it was working. There was another notification from Shells, she sent yet another video. This time they weren’t in the bar anymore, they were in what he assumed to be a park, so he got comfortable on his bunk and pressed play yet again.

“Bea! Bea!Look!” Beatrice’s eyes were glazed but she smiled at the camera and he couldn’t help but smile back, she was definitely buzzed, “Look, if you had to say anything to Rooster right now, what would you say?” wait, what?

Beatrice blinked, licking her lips as she thought about it, “I’d say…that I miss him, a lot but he knows I do!” she giggles, “...and…that he makes me very happy and that I think he’s the sweetest, kindest, hottest guy I’ve ever met. That I still can’t believe he’s mine and that…ummmm…that his mouth tastes sweet, like honey and I can’t get enough of him! His lips are soooooooo soft and so nice!hmmm, but,but I also!” she makes a point to hold up a finger, “I think he’s brave and he makes me feel safe, he makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt before!” she giggles, then blinks at the camera, “Why do you ask?”

Shells turns the camera to her face, “Oh, no reason, just curious.” she smirks down at the camera, finally stopping the video.Rooster stared at the screen for a few more seconds, then let the device fall screen first on his chest, rubbing his face with both hands, groaning quietly into his palms. How was he to deal with this? With her? He couldn’t just run to her and pick her up to kiss her like no tomorrow, he still had a few more weeks to go by before he returned.

His chest warmed up with feelings, with pure love for this girl, who cared for him and believed in him so much without a single doubt within her. He dropped his hands, sucking in a shaky breath before he looked back down to his phone, only seeing that Shells left him a ‘>:P’ emoji that he chose not to reply to, he knew she wouldn’t mind either.

He makes her feel safe. She mentioned to him during their first time together that his room felt like safety to her…and he couldn’t imagine a better compliment to have from someone he loved so much. Rooster sighed sweetly, closing his eyes with a smile before he finally set up his alarm, giving one last look at the video just so he could have her voice in his head before he slipped into dreamland. 

He slid the phone under his pillow, still smiling when he finally fell asleep.

[after-witch]

Act of Contrition [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Act of Contrition [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: A shimmering blue evening gown was not the last thing you expected to see draped over the sitting chair that was tucked into the corner. What you didn’t expect, however, was his suggestion for you to try it on

Word Count: 3646

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader

 A shimmering blue evening gown was not the last thing you expected to see draped over the sitting chair that was tucked into the corner. It would certainly not be the first time that Chrollo had brought back something ostentatious, something glittering and expensive; something that you (if you were to psychoanalyze him, which you did, out of anxiety first and boredom second) would guess he wanted you to admire before it disappeared into the ether like so many other things he’d pilfered over the past few months.

What you didn’t expect, however, was his suggestion for you to try it on. 

At first you thought you’d misheard, your brain still pulling itself out of a dull, listless sleep. You had argued with him the night before, and the space between you on the bed was thick and heavy with tension until you had finally slid headlong into sleep. Surely he wouldn’t try to give you a gift after you spend most of the evening reminding him that you’ll never love him, or even like him, much less feel one iota of happiness in his presence.

But then he repeated the suggestion.

“Why?” Your tone is borderline acidic, and you don’t feel the need to hide your suspicion of his intentions.

Your captor had no doubt become well-acquainted with your nastiness over the months, though he rarely reacted to it with more than a tight expression, if he even gave you that. Sometimes he simply ignored you, as if you were a child having a tantrum, not his kidnapped victim.

In some ways, it was a surprising relief. In some ways, you could consider yourself lucky. Considering his abilities, considering his past, considering what he did when he left you alone in the condo or hotel or wherever he had you situated--he might well be the type to slap the attitude off your face, gentlemanly facade be damned. He could do worse than a slap, too; far worse.

But the months had gone on with only pointed sighs and looks; and despite his rationally stated insistence that you would give in to his attentions in time, you held onto your bitterness as tightly as you could. You prized yourself on it, the way you figure that he prizes his most precious steals.

He sometimes comes back with glittering jewels worth calculable fortunes, laying them out to see the way they look when the moonlight filters in through the open curtains. He doesn’t keep them for long, doesn’t display them, just memorizes their magnificence and then whisks them off.

You can relate to the gloating. But you don’t give your greatest treasures away. You, on the other hand, wear your bitterness 24/7 like an old woman clinging to her last precious mink coat, a remnant of an era gone-by. Draped over your shoulder, haughty and visible, daring him to say something when you give him a sarcastic jab in response to perfectly-polite-inquiries about this and that. The worst (but best, you think, to you) is when you feign interest in a conversation, feign some sort of acceptance of your situation, willing your hands to get closer to his as you sit on the sofa and read; only to snap back at the last moment, baring your teeth.

You hope it hurts him, to think he’s getting an inch forward with you only to have it pulled away. He deserves it for keeping you here.

Sometimes, you almost hope he would say something, do something, only because it might be a sort of reprieve. If he gets mad or slaps you, even, maybe the solid, sticky bitterness surrounding your heart might abate just a bit.

Then again, you know this saying very well: be careful what you wish for.

“I need to see if it fits.” His expression and tone haven’t changed. Polite, cordial, matter-of-fact. You hate it.

You force yourself out of bed and give the gown a glance before heading into the bathroom. He follows, picking up his own morning routine as you wash and brush side-by-side. You think he does it to seem domestic, in his own fucked-up way. You pointed this out, once, and he’d merely given you a small smile and asked: “Do you want to this to be domestic?”

Chrollo had a habit of turning your impulsive snark around on you, so you tried to plan your barbs out more carefully in the future.

“Why do you need to see if it fits?” You finally ask, words a bit muffled by the toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. You force yourself to glance at him in the mirror. He’s finished, already drying off his face, pinning a wrap around his forehead.

He catches your gaze in the mirror, and you feel too caught to look away.

“For tonight. We’re going to the theater.”

The toothbrush drops from your mouth and lands next to the sink, splattering lathered toothpaste on the counter. You wipe your mouth with a washcloth, missing a bit and not caring, and physically turn away from the mirror so you’re face-to-face.

“Are you serious?”

For the moment, your bitterness slides off, forgotten on the floor. He’s never offered to do something like this before. Sure, he’s mentioned that you might go out--”it depends on  your behavior”--but the thought of “being good” for Chrollo made you sick to your stomach every time you were tempted. So you hadn’t been outside for months, not really--the brief gaps when he’d whisk you into a car, always by his side, then pull you into a new hotel or luxury condo didn’t really count.

He nods.

“Yes. Please do hurry and try it on, I’ll need time to find another if it isn’t suitable.”

You glance out of the bathroom door and back into the bedroom, where the gown sits, draped, shimmering softly in the morning light. It’s something you never would have been able to afford before--and the thought of wearing it now makes your skin tingle. What is his plan? Why is he doing this?

“But I haven’t been good,” you say, almost spitting out the last word. Last night, in fact, you’d been almost beastly--you recall the words “go fuck yourself” and “I hate you” being thrown out before you twisted in the knife by bringing up an ex-fling.

He laughs, quick and harsh. It seems like a real laugh, for once, and something in your chest twists. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard anything truly authentic from him. Or yourself.

“Maybe it’s a reward for me, to have you by my side.  You want to go, don’t you?”

The thought makes your stomach clench. But… you did want to go. Really. To get out of here, even for a night? To get sucked into some type of show, whatever it was? You didn’t entertain the idea of trying to escape or draw attention to yourself for help--you knew Chrollo would never suggest taking you if it was a viable option. He was just as likely to slaughter the entire theater if you whispered to an usher that you were being held captive.

No, no escape in the cards… at least not physically.

You shrug your shoulders and try to seem nonchalant about it, though you’re sure he can feel the way your skin is buzzing.

“Sure, whatever. Don’t expect me to hold your hand or anything.”

He laughs, again. It’s blatantly false this time.

***

It has been… a while since you’ve done your makeup. The pile of messy makeup wipes on the counter can attest to that--this is now your third try at a full face without messing something up. Thankfully, the third time has been the charm, and you’re satisfied with the reflection in the mirror. Chrollo had turned up your old makeup bag, and sliding on the eyeliner you used to wear to work, out with friends, in your old life felt surreal and comforting at the same time.

You’ve even done your hair, though it could be nicer. You haven’t bothered with anything but hasty brushing in the past few months, and sometimes you’re too lethargic and frustrated to even bother with that. But it’s styled, a bit elegant--if you do say so yourself.

You glance down at the trio of lipsticks he set on the counter earlier. They’re not a brand you ever wore--they’re expensive, something out of reach for anyone used to pulling cheap store lipsticks out of a bin. The center lipstick is a bold red, and your hand reaches for it. Brief memories of your mother gushing about red lipstick come to mind; she always associated red lipstick with elegance, the fanciest of events, and you’re inclined to agree. It feels smooth, impossibly so; praise be to expensive formulas.

After blotting it with toilet paper--old habits--you step back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The dress fits you beautifully. The fabric is soft, refined, showing you off in all the right places. You’ve taken your time with your hair, your makeup, and you really do look nice. You bring your wrist up to your nose and sniff--the perfume Chrollo had picked out for you was elegant, subtle. Rose petals and apples and white musk.

You feel a wave of nostalgia come over you that you push down. It’s too bad you’re going to the theater with your captor and not with your friends. Or your mom.

“Are you finished?” His voice calls from the bedroom.

The thought of Chrollo seeing you like this makes you feel uncomfortably anxious for reasons you can’t quite pinpoint. The gown is not exactly risque, but it’s designed to highlight your features--and while he has never crossed the hardest line in regards to your personal autonomy, he wasn’t beyond stealing kisses from your unwilling lips when the mood struck him. He said it was to help you adjust to the relationship, as if kissing you against your will would make you love him.

You don’t answer him and instead give your hair a final touch up before heading out the open bathroom door.

Chrollo is standing next to the vanity, wearing an elegant suit, primped and polished--and handsome. You can’t help but freeze in place when he gives you a once-over, slow and deliberate.

“You look beautiful,” he says, finally, a slight breathiness to his voice. There’s an authentic tone to his voice again, and it makes you feel queasy.

You try to ignore the way your skin feels heated and shrug, crossing your arms over your chest as you approach him.

“Are we going now?”

He gives a soft smile. “Almost. One more thing.”

You watch curiously as he pulls out a jewelry box from his pocket, then opens it to reveal two glittering sapphire earrings. You can’t hold back a little gasp, but when you reach for them, Chrollo holds the box out of reach.

“I’ll do the honors.”

You want to say no. But you’re so close to leaving, so you simply stare to the side as he steps behind you.  He touches your ear--and you flinch. He chuckles quietly and you ignore the blossoming heat across your cheeks, both from his closeness and your reaction, while he fixes the earrings into your ears.

When he’s finished, you look up. The visage in the mirror seems like a familiar stranger. The feeling you get at seeing yourself so dressed up is familiar in some way. You think back to going to shows with your friends, or going to the ballet with your mom; your little ring-clad hand gripping hers as she hurried you past alleys on the way to the theater, your sparkling white party dress shedding glitter onto the streets. You can practically feel the way the theater always hums with anticipation, the unusual heaviness of feeling alone in a crowded room as your friends left you with the tickets while they grabbed a drink or two.

The sight of Chrollo behind you in the mirror, watching you with clear intent, breaks you away.

“We’re leaving now.”

***

“I… actually really like The Sleeping Beauty ballet.”

You feel awkward. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve been in a car with Chrollo, whether your forcibly pressed against him in the back seat or in the front, blasting the radio in an attempt to prevent him from striking up a conversation as he drives you to some new destination.

But it’s the first time you’ve been in the car for reasons other than transporting you to a new ‘home.’ The first time that you’ve both been dressed up; Chrollo’s cologne wafts gently over to you, and you can’t deny that he knows how to pick a good scent.

It’s also the first time you’ve felt conversation to be a necessity, if only to find out where you were going (the opera house) and what you were seeing (a ballet).

In fact, the news of the performance makes you sit up straighter in your seat. You feel a ping of excitement, and without thinking you share it out loud.

“That’s actually the first ballet I ever saw with my mom. Do you know what company it is?”

He tells you, and you bite your lip anxiously, squaring your shoulders against the back of the seat as you start to imagine the night ahead. Then you remember the smooth red lipstick and force your mouth to relax.

You talk, instead, to keep yourself from ruining your lipstick with your nervous habit. “I’ve heard about this company’s version. Well,” you continue, “I wanted to see them perform this a few years ago, but tickets sold out so fast. I couldn’t afford the scalper prices.”

“How nice that I have tickets for this performance, then.”

“Right!” Your pitch is higher and you internally cringe. You shouldn’t sound so excited. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but he seems focused on the road.

As the drive continues, you keep talking. Without realizing it, your voice becomes lighter, easier, and even you don’t know why you’re speaking so freely. You talk more to him on this stretch of road than you have within months, sarcastic replies and bitter responses notwithstanding. 

You talk about ballet. You talk about the history of the show. You talk about this company’s costumes--you saw them displayed in a store window and wow, were they gorgeous--and as the words come out, you feel lighter. Less bogged down by your protective anger, less heavy and hateful.

Happiness. 

It’s something that you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s a feeling that your stomach rebels against, not welcoming the sudden intrusion of lightness and lift while you’re sitting in a car next to your captor. But you push your stomach’s rebellious nature down and force yourself to remember that tonight,  you get to escape onto the stage; for a little while, you can be somewhere else.

Even being in the car tonight is doing wonders for you, you think. You must be getting close--the lights of the city are brighter and there’s throngs of nicely dressed people walking down the street towards what you realize is the theater. You see a little girl holding a woman’s hand and your stomach clenches in bitter nostalgia, but the thought is pushed aside quickly enough when Chrollo pulls into a valet circle.

You don’t have time to open the door before he opens it for you, extending his arm like a gentlemen.

“Ready?”

**

You’re buzzing on the way home. Not just from the champagne--three glasses, Chrollo having subtly waved away the usher approaching your opera box with your requested fourth. Not just from the show, which was magical and lush and everything you hoped it would be. Not just from the fact that you had a night out, away from the stuffiness of whatever luxury suite you were trapped in.

But from the thrill of feeling something, anything, other than your own deep despair and bitterness. You laughed in delight at the sillier moments, the bright-yellow Canary fairy and her trills; you cried at Aurora’s pleading vision to be set free, the first time you’ve cried at something other than your own situation in ages; you clapped and even, in the end, let yourself shout out a cheery “Brava!”

Even Chrollo seemed different during the evening. No forcible hand-holding or other niceties that had given you anxiety earlier in the evening. No unbearable condescension, only the hint of a smirk during the intermission when you--instinctively, you insisted to yourself, not because you liked his company--began an excited conversation about the events of the first Act. Did he like this part? What about the orchestra? And oh, this variation, didn’t he think it was a bit too overdone on the part of the dancer, but she more than recovered by the end?

When Chrollo helps you out of the car into the private parking garage, the air is cool and crackling; everything still feels electric, the way it always does when you come home from an event. Though as the doorman opens the private elevator leading to the condominium above, you dimly remind yourself you’re not coming home, exactly.

The swift ride up the elevator leaves you feeling dizzy. Your mind feels like it’s crashing, suddenly. From the champagne, maybe--but something else, too.

The elevator doors open into the condo suite you share with Chrollo and it hits you as you take the first step inside: you’re back to where you started the night. Trapped. The transporting, glittering events of the evening fall off your shoulders like a worn coat; you’re left once again only with yourself, with your present situation--and with Chrollo.

Your cheeks feel hot and you know the tears are coming before you feel them prickle at your eyes. The urge to wipe them away is masked only by the remembrance that you’re wearing makeup, but that doesn’t stop it from running as they begin to flow down your cheeks.

It burns, and you start for the bathroom, intent on scrubbing your face and ripping off the dress--but your entire body jerks back as Chrollo grabs your arm and prevents you from taking another step.

“Let go,” you say, voice empty of anything but the desperate need to be in the bathroom, to clean your face, to be alone with your returning misery.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you back, forcing you to stand up straight as you fruitlessly fight against his grip.

“You’re crying.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” you murmur, voice edged not with bitterness this time, but sorrow. You don’t want to look at him. He’s seen you cry countless times, but you hate the way he looks at you when you do.

“Tell me why.”

You finally force yourself to look up at him, eyes blinking away the stinging tears, and you’re not surprised by his intensive gaze. He’s studying you. Analyzing. Like you’re some sort of book he can read and discover.

Maybe the champagne has loosened your tongue; maybe the night itself has loosened the tight-lipped hold your bitterness has on you. Whatever it is, you confess.

“I was happy,” you say, voice wobbling with tears. “I was--happy on the way there. I was happy at the theater. I was happy on the way home. I--I haven’t…” you rub at your eyes, smearing eyeshadow onto your fingertips. “I haven’t felt that way in months. And now we’re back and I don’t feel it anymore.” Your voice finally cracks with your last words, and you cover your eyes with one hand as crushing feelings of sadness sweep over you.

He pulls you closer to him, and you can’t fight away from his physical strength.

“Let go,” you plead. “I just want to be alone.”

You jerk your face away when he strokes your cheek with his free hand.

“Alone? Whatever for? My hypothesis for tonight was correct.”

His words make you stop pulling. Hypothesis? You sniffle and try to get your bearings, try to brace yourself. But you’re tired, and sad, and your head is swimming.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He places his free hand on the back of your head and leans in closer. The heat of his skin and the pressure of his grip makes a flushed warmth bloom across your skin.

“You see,” he whispers, his lips ghosting against the side of your ear. “You can be happy with me, after all.”

[measuringbliss]

Here we go, Glee Rewatch! 1x01 time, baby

Hii, welcome to the 2022-2023-2024-maybe-2025-dear-Lord weekly Glee rewatch! Whether you've been waiting for weeks for this, or whether you just saw this post randomly, feel free to participate! Are you a newbie, or have you seen the show dozens of times? You're welcome too! Do you want to skip an episode (or entire seasons!), do you want to write 10 words summarizing your thoughts or do you want to write intricate meta? Feel free to do whatever you want! Just don't harass anyone. You can complain about stuff or criticize it, but let's try to stay respectful towards each other, alright?

I'm writing this post on September 7, in 2022. I don't know when I'll set it for, but I'd like to have maybe a whole season (or more!) done before starting uploading those posts. My posts will be linked in the masterpost pinned on my tumblr.

Note: The first episode has two versions, the normal one and the Director's Cut. I watch the show on Disney+ and it appears that it's a mix between both versions, given that I don't recognize some of the scenes but do recognize some of the others mentioned here.

Second note: Today is October 1st, 2022. I finished the first season yesterday, and will schedule this post for tomorrow. Let's do one episode a week at first, alright? That way I'm not too stressed about it. We'll see if the schedule changes once Jenna and Kevin's new podcast comes around. Here's the Glee Rewatch Masterpost, by the way.

Glee's Pilot episode is incredibly effective, introducing many characters and plotlines very efficiently. Right at the start, I noticed something about the clothes the characters wear when the football team puts Kurt in the trash bin. Obviously Kurt has his expensive outfit, and obviously most (let's ignore the second guy to the right) players have the red jacket of their team. But Finn, whose role is key in the show, wears a grey sweatshirt (that looks very comfy!) and a white shirt underneath. It already sets him apart from the rest of the team (especially coupled with his semi-intervention). You could even argue the grey is there to show Finn's conflicted feelings on his team's harassment. Why is there "55" marked on his sweat? Well, we see later that Finn's number is 5, but is it also there to convey the 50/50ness of his mindset? Not only that, but Finn is supposed to be average. Well the show paints him as more clueless than most other characters, but I was pretty clueless at his age too (...I still am). But he's not supposed to be this hot bombshell of a stud (even though Cory Monteith was absolutely this).

Damn that sweat looks comfy. And later on in the locker room, Finn is still in grey (and red). He's not the only one, but still. I know that his color is blue but grey... it's quite close, isn't it?

And after Finn meets Rachel, who's infatuated with him, Finn wears blue! Is she giving him life? Blue is a color of melancholy, of sadness. Does Finn unconsciously realize that his relationship with Quinn doesn't bring him happiness? Or is it that it can't make him happy ever since Rachel entered his life?

The red shirts symbolize the football team while his jean jacket symbolizes the Glee Club, his relationship with Rachel and his true self. He's still thinking about the club he'll pick if he has to choose, but subconsciously he's already decided.

However, later, after being slushied by his teammates, when Finn says to Rachel that he's leaving the Glee Club because of his reputation, he wears red again. And at the end, when he's back with the Glee Club, every member wears red. They reappropriated the color. Red is the color of passion, so it fits, right?

The score sung a capella is absolutely wonderful and I'm sad that it disappears after a few seasons. It's very charming and perfect for the show.

Emma is... oddly upfront with her contempt for Sue. She seems much more confrontation-averse in later episodes. I do appreciate, however, how her actress's doing her absolute best to seem unnerving but in a funny way.

Also wow this episode is grainy. Was it filmed on film and later episodes on digital?

I really love the auditions, very effective at introducing characters and giving them some credibility. I'm very fond of Kurt in this scene, where he knows how good he is at singing and flicks his hair (which is something Cory touchingly imitated when the cast rewatched the episode). This is hilarious! This is wonderfully acted! And I wish Kurt had stayed that way. At one point in S5, Kurt had an episode where he had a few outraged facial reactions and it reminded me of early Kurt. I feel like he became boring after a few seasons, but the base material was incredible.

Tina's gothic style is great. Obviously, her pendant symbolizes her secret (she fakes her stutter). I've seen a few people suggest that Tina was intended to love girls at first and the song choice ("I Kissed a Girl") certainly... could imply that.

Rachel's introduction is perfect. The comedic timing of the gold star and sudden slushie is incredible. I love Rachel, honestly. Also love her two dads who mysteriously transformed without Rachel acknowledging it even once.

I think people should have stopped complaining about Glee lacking realism in later seasons when the first episode had Figgins say that the Anonymous Alcoholics use McKinley High's gymnasium. The show was bonkers from the start.

Stephen Tobolowsky is too good at playing Sandy. He's too good! I didn't like him very much in One Day At A Time and I'm not sure I like him in Glee either. Maybe I have something against him. I'm sorry, Stephen!

This, right here? It's genius! I feel like those kinds of things never really happened after the pilot, but Will blackmailing Finn in front of this pamphlet is comedy gold. It's incredible!

Finn's voice is interesting, I don't think I often hear that kind of voice. It's sort of... raw, unmastered, isn't it? His performance later in Don't Stop Believin' is quite more standard than his other numbers in the episode.

I love how Rachel immediately knows when she hears him. She knows they're destiny. She's knows he's the one, the one for the Glee Club and the one for her. And I love how mythical their romance seems at times (notably in this episode). It's beautiful. I'm into it! And the whole You're The One That I Want number is great, from Rachel's instant interest, to her dramatically putting her hands on Kurt's face and Tina's boobs, to her pushing poor Artie and Will catching him, to Mercedes having enough of them, it's just a wonderful scene.

The puzzle is of American Gothic, painted by Grant Wood. I was vaguely familiar with this painting before. So Will's on the right, and there's a hole on the man's throat/chest. You know, some stuff you use to sing. And Terri's on the left, and there's a hole in the woman's right eye. The woman is watching her father (though they could be mistaken as a couple), just as Terri will watch Will to try and make sure that he doesn't make too many bad choices like, let's say, leaving her. They both seem austere (they're most probably religious), and Terri's trying to get them to have a more orderly life; she wants a baby (traditional) and sees Will taking over the Glee Club as frivolous (untraditional) and pretty much as a danger for their relationship. It is a bit ironic that this painting was chosen, considering that Terri acts more like a mother than a daughter to Will's nostalgic self. Notably, Terri puts a puzzle piece in a hole in the man, showing she wants to stay in control of the situation. Also, the most important bit to analyze is the fork having three spikes (or whatever you call them in English), it's a metaphor for the fact that three seasons later the infamous newbies arrive and the show loses its luster (OR DOES IT???? see you in a bit more than a year!).

Also, we have to mention the obvious parallel that runs throughout the season (and show). Terri says she was a cheerleader. And Will's a teacher. Do you know who else becomes a teacher in S4? Finn. Do you know who's in a relationship with Finn and is a cheerleader? Quinn!!! DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS BETWEEN QUINN AND FINN? THEY BREAK UP. And Rachel comes in-between them because she's into Finn before he considers her a romantic prospect. Exactly like Emma and Will! And Ken is infatuated with Emma just as, like, various guys (most prominently Puck in early seasons) with Rachel.

Quinn's first scene with Finn is legendary. I don't know what the crew's intention was, and Dianna's facial expression is so ambiguous that it's hard to say with certitude what's going through her mind. You could see her as a temptress just as you could see her as genuinely uncomfortable.

Saying they should pray as soon as Finn gets into snogging her, right under a portrait of Jesus, it's quite funny. Quinn's writing is... incoherent at best so I bet there's a million way you can interpret this scene (maybe she wants to tease Finn for the hell of it, or maybe she really wants things to calm down).

I bet someone could write something about Emma's outfits throughout the episode. Purple tartan? Intriguing. Does it show her (semi-conscious) intent to be a homewrecker? (Note from just before scheduling this post: I don't know what's the logical link there, is it about how purple's a mix of blue (realistic goal) and red (passion)?)

The Vocal Adrenaline performance is good obviously, and I love the outfits.

Terri: announces she's pregnant while holding champaigne glasses. Classic Terri!

I love Rachel's wardrobe.

How can you not be into Finchel after watching this episode? They're stars shining brightly in the sky.

Anyway, see you next week! For now, let's stay on a weekly schedule. I'll also check out the concert movie between seasons 2 & 3. But we're not there yet!

[levithestripper]

The Princess’s Chosen Hero

✩ Masterlist! ✩

✩ Warnings: marking/biting, hickeys ✩

✩ Taglist: @the-1-sin-bin ✩

✩ If you want to be added to a taglist, fill this out! ✩

✩ Length: 3.4k || Read on Ao3 ✩

✩ A/N: kinktober day 10: marking/biting!! we're gonna pretend that i'm not 8 days late with this lmfaooo.. but anyways, i've been watching pointcrow's playthrough of skyward sword recently and i absolutely fell in love with the game. tbh, this is far more fluffy than kinky, but it fills the prompt, so deal with it lol. this was heavily inspired by art from @pawthko! specifically this ss zelink work from july! (i hope you don't mind me tagging you!) ✩

One of these days, Groose is gonna work Link’s last nerve, and that’ll be the end of the damn bastard. Link’s just fucking had it at this point. All he talks about is how he and Zelda are going to have a ‘special moment’ on the Goddess statue after he wins the Loftwing Race. Yeah, Groose actually believes that he’ll win, which is crazy in itself. If he even touches her, Link swears that he’ll punch him into next week. He doesn’t care if it’s an innocent touch, either! Groose will have to think twice about touching what doesn’t belong to him.

Wait, no, that’s wrong. Link hasn’t worked up enough courage to ask Zelda out yet. Regardless if they’re dating or not, Zelda isn’t property; she can’t belong to him. It’s just that Link can’t help but daydream about how she would look with hickeys strewn about the column of her neck, brazenly advertising that she was off-limits. Link would never let them fade away, always keeping one or two a nice dark red. He can’t help but imagine what it’d feel like to press Zelda’s small frame against a wall, his hands pinning hers above her head, to feel the quick rise and fall of her chest against his. It seemed weird having these feelings for Zelda—his childhood friend—no less. He guesses that they’ve always been there in one form or another. Being with Zelda just felt right to him, like it was his destiny to be the one allowed to marry her.

But none of that can happen if Link never confesses his feelings towards her.

Link was able to make it through most of the day without running into Groose, thankfully. When it came time for the Wing Ceremony, Groose and his underlings were already there, chatting amongst themselves. It didn’t take long for the redheaded bully to notice Link’s appearance, however. “You ready to lose, pretty boy?” Groose taunts, walking over to where Link was standing. “I’d hate to be you after the race! Standing around sulking since Zelda’s with me on the Goddess statue, alone and having a special moment with me instead of you. You better get it through that thick, ugly head of yours, Link!” he sneers. “Don’t think your crush on her is any secret ‘round here, Link! Everyone knows about how you fell in love with your ‘childhood friend’,” Groose made finger quotes for emphasis, “It’s so cute that you think someone that out of your league could ever fall for you, even if you did grow up together. We all know that your precious Zelda’s gonna be on my arm, never giving you a goddamn second thought!”

That was all it took for Link to snap and smack Groose straight across his face. It left a red handprint on his cheek, the color rivaling his hair. Groose brought a hand up to his pinkened cheek in shock; Link’s never hit anything—or anyone for that matter—before! “Keep your mouth shut before you lose the ability to open it again. You’re not the one that dictates who she can or can’t have feelings for. Zelda’s plenty capable of deciding for herself. She needs no help from the likes of your sorry ass.” Groose was about to fling his fist at him but was rudely interrupted by Zelda and Owlan’s timely arrival.

She ran to Link, ignoring everyone else, excitedly taking his hands in hers. She was close enough that their foreheads could touch, their noses bumping against each other sometimes. A sweet smile adorned her pretty face, causing her blue eyes to shine even more than they already are. “Sorry I’m late, Link. It took a bit longer than expected to finish your—I mean—the gift for the ceremony. I didn’t want to miss watching you race.” Having Zelda so close to him made Link’s heart beat faster, his face flushing slightly too.

Link rests his forehead against hers, lovingly gazing down at her, taking in all of Zelda’s beauty. Her soft golden hair flows down her slim shoulders, stopping at the small of her back. It framed her face perfectly, extenuating just how flawless she was. How did Link ever manage to get so lucky? “It’s okay, princess. All that matters is you’re here now.” Link manages to shimmy his hands out of her grip, setting them on her waist instead. His thumbs quickly found a place to rub circles into her hips, subsequently pulling the pair closer together. She didn’t complain, simply wrapping her arms around Link’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure to win for you. Can’t let my gift go to someone else,” he teases her with a playful smirk.

“You’ll win, I’m sure of it,” Zelda reassures him before pecking his cheek innocently. She plays with the golden-brown hair at the base of Link’s neck, slipping it in between her fingers. It sent shivers down his spine, the blush dusting his cheeks deepening. The bell tower started to ring, harshly interrupting their supposedly platonic conversation and announcing the start of the race. “That’s our queue, Link. See you on the statue later?” she asks, pulling away from Link’s grasp.

Link was hesitant to let her go, but he knew he had to. Every moment with her in his arms felt like they were the only two people in the world who mattered. But to Link, Zelda truly is the only person who matters. “Of course you will, princess.” He watched her walk away until he couldn’t see her anymore, a look of pure love plastered all over his face. The spot where Zelda kissed his cheek tingles. It’s official: Link’s never washing that cheek ever again for as long as he lives.

The race lasted not even thirty minutes, Link crossing the finish line miles ahead of Groose and his cronies. Groose was whining up a storm, but he congratulated Link on his win since it was part of the rules. With the bird statuette in tow, Link flies to the Goddess statue, where Zelda is waiting for him. He’s quick to bring her into a big hug once he lands, relishing in how Zelda’s head nestles perfectly into the crook of his neck. “I told you I’d win, princess,” he whispers, pushing a stray hair back behind her ear. But in all honesty, it was just an excuse to touch her face.

Zelda’s small hands clenched the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. “You flew so well, Link. I’m so proud of you.” Hearing her say she was proud of him causes Link to tighten his grip on her, the gentle embrace morphing into a bear hug. “I’m so proud of my Chosen Hero.” Zelda kisses his cheek again. “Regardless if you had won today or not, you’ve always been—and always will be—my one and only hero.”

“And the Chosen Hero will always and forever love his Princess.” Link rests his forehead against Zelda’s like before. His free hand squeezes her small waist, the other cupping Zelda’s face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. The amount of udder adoration Link has for her is immeasurable. How was it possible for one girl to be so goddamn beautiful?

She giggles softly, leaning into his warm hand. “I’m not a princess, Linky. You’re the Chosen Hero, and I’m s’possed to be the Goddess.” A blush quickly settled across her cheeks, the color matching her dress nicely. She met Link’s gaze, smiling at how blatantly flustered he was. It was cute seeing him trying not to trip over his words.

“I’m not talking to the Goddess right now, Zelda.” Now she knew he was serious; Link next to never uses her given name; it’ always was a nickname from him. “I’m talking to you.” Link’s boots slotted themselves between Zelda’s fuzzy ones, the air around them growing tenser the closer they got to each other. “You’ve always been my princess; I’ve called you that since we were kids. At first, it was just ‘cause I had a hard time saying Zelda,” he chuckles, eyes fluttering over her face nervously. The tip of Link’s nose brushed against hers, making Zelda giggle again. “But now, I’ve been thinking about how a princess eventually needs to find her prince,” Link cranes his head back, anxiously running a hand through his hair. It didn’t take long for it to return to Zelda’s cheek, though.

She presses her palm against his chest, grounding Link back in reality and pushing any anxiety left out of his body. “It’s okay, whatever it is, you can tell me. I love you; you’re my best friend. You can share everything and anything with me; I won’t judge you.”

‘You’re my best friend.’

It rang through Link’s head just like the bell tower does, but worse. The moment the words came off Zelda’s lips, a gut-wrenching pain blooms in his chest as if someone were stabbing from the inside. He doesn’t want only to be her best friend; he wants to be her prince. Link wants to be the person to make the nickname complete. Will she not want to be his friend anymore after he tells her? Will she think he’s weird for harboring these feelings? Link panicked, taking his hand away from Zelda’s face before speaking. “I slapped Groose before the race today. He kept talking shit about you, about how he was gonna be the one up here with you. He kept talking about you like you’re some fucking object to be won, then kept on a shelf somewhere and admired from afar. So I smacked him.”

Zelda gasps, a look of pure shock plastered on her face. “Link! Language! You don’t curse, much less in front of the Goddess! And secondly, you hit Groose?! You don’t hit people; you’ve never hit anything! Sure, he gets on my nerves too, but there��s never a situation that can’t be fixed with communication!”

“Well, what am I supposed to do when he’s mocking me?! All I’ve ever done is stand there and take his grief, but hearing him talk about how I don’t deserve you made me lose it, okay?!” Link backs away from her in an attempt to not scream directly in her face. Fear washes over him, and suddenly, he wants to be anywhere but here. They’ve never fought before. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Zelda, please forgive me!” Link’s voice cracks at the end of his plea, tears welling up in his eyes. Balled fists came up to wipe them away aggressively. “What am I supposed to do when all he talks about is how my feelings for you don’t matter?” It was barely a whisper; if the wind was any louder, Zelda would’ve missed it completely.

Throughout the entirety of their friendship, Zelda has never seen Link cry. Not once. Link skinned his knee on the pavement once when they were eight and didn’t shed a tear, nor when he fell down the stairs when he was ten. But this was what made him cry? It seemed odd, Groose being the catalyst for Link’s bottled-up emotions to finally be released. Why would Link ever think his feelings towards her didn’t matter? She’s quick to pull him in a warm hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Link, sweetheart, your feelings always matter! Why would you ever let Groose of all people convince you they didn’t?”

Link buries his face in her soft hair, breathing in the scent of her coconut shampoo. “He kept tellin’ me you’re out of my league. That no one this beautiful could ever like me,” he mumbles, arms wrapped tightly around her. “Hey, princess?”

“Hm?”

It took all of Link’s courage to swallow the lump in his throat. He prays to Hylia that this doesn’t fuck everything up. “I want to be the person lucky enough to marry and grow old with you. I want to be more than just your best friend. I want to show the whole world that you’re mine and I’m yours,” he met her eyes again, “Can I be your prince?” Link watches as the gears turn in her head, processing everything he told her.

Without hesitation, Zelda yanks him down by his shirt collar, stealing his first kiss. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair, keeping Link from pulling away. Not like he wanted to. After the initial shock passes, he kisses her back eagerly. His fingers worm their way into her hair, holding the back of her head as she did to him. Link pushes her against the cold ornate wall of the statue, careful not to hurt her.

“Link—!” she gasps against his mouth, giving Link the perfect opportunity to make out with her. “Link—! Hold on a minute!” Link stops immediately, not daring to overstep her boundaries. “You want to be my prince? You’re not messing with me, right?”

He nods. “I’m in love with you, Princess. Always have been.”

She kisses him again, but softer this time. “I love you too, Link,” she giggles, “Who would’ve thought that my Hero would also be my prince?” Zelda kisses all over Link’s face, pulling a happy giggle from him too. “Were you worried that I’d end up marrying Groose?”

Link nods bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. “I was worried that you’d think my feelings for you were weird or somethin’, ‘cause we’re best friends and all. I didn’t want to ruin what we had by confessing how I felt.” Now it was Link’s turn to lean down and kiss her. It wasn’t nearly as hungry as the first one, instead gentle and loving. Their noses brush against each other, causing them both to laugh. “But I’m sure glad I did.”

“Me too. I don’t know how much longer I could keep dropping hints at you, Linky,” Zelda said with a coy smile. “You really had no idea that I felt the same way?”

A dumb look washes over Link’s face. “You were dropping hints?”

Zelda just shook her head with a small laugh and a sigh. “Never change, Linky. You’re too cute for this world.” She leans on the stone behind her, gazing up at him with her big blue eyes. The position made her feel even smaller compared to him than she actually was. The atmosphere surrounding them changed from an innocent one to a heated one. “So…do you wanna continue from where we left off?”

Link nods, pressing himself against her lithe frame. “Mhmm, but there’s one thing I wanna do first if you’ll let me.” He holds her hips, fingers spreading across her sides, fingertips ghosting at her rib cage. “Let me mark you as mine. So you can show the entirety of Skyloft that you’re spoken for.” The moment Link asked, his pointy ears turned a deep shade of red. He squeezes her waist gently, trying his best to express the feelings that refused to form themselves into words. “I’ve heard guys talk about how hot it is seeing their—” he lingers for a moment, “—partner with hickeys covering their necks. Makes me think that if I gave you some, Groose would stop bothering me about it.”

“Hmm, does that mean I’m your girlfriend now, Hero?” she teases, twirling a lock of golden hair between her slim fingers.

The way her head tilts to the side absolutely just tortures Link. There’s enough room to cover her pale skin with marks that’ll take weeks just to start fading away. Link’s desperate to show the world that Zelda is his and his alone. “I’d like you to be my girlfriend. No, I’d really really like it if you were my girlfriend. I could take you out on dates, and we can have a sleepover and stay up late together like we would when we were kids.” A sweet smile graces his features, eyes sparkling with delight. “And maybe I’ll let you win a Loftwing race once in a while, just ‘cause I love you,” Link teases right back at her, drawing a laugh from her again. Oh, how he loves hearing her laugh; it’s everything good in the world all wrapped up in one sound. The heated atmosphere that previously surrounded them was gone now, replaced by an innocent veil once more. Don’t fret; it’ll be back soon enough, at least, that’s what Link hopes will happen.

Zelda nods, kissing his smile-thinned lips over and over again, which just made them both delve into a fit of giggles. “Of course, Linky. I’ve wanted to hear you ask me that for like forever.” Once their laughter dies down, Zelda kisses him properly this time. Link’s nose pressed into her cheek; however, instead of being uncomfortable, Zelda oddly found it rather soothing. The boy’s lips tasted like a mix of vanilla—her chapstick must have rubbed off on him—and the salty leftovers from his sweat. “Don’t you start getting soft on me now that we’re dating, Linky. When I beat you in a race, though, I’ll beat you fair ‘n square. Like how I beat you in dominoes every time.”

He purposefully ignored the dominoes comment, pouting over her being right. He sucks ass at dominoes, but like hell, he’ll never admit to it. “Oh, alright. You run such a hard bargain, Princess,” Link sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes. “What ever shall I do?” he kisses her forehead, right in between her eyebrows.

She giggles at his words with a coy smile, “Oh, I have no idea, Linky! You’re in such a predicament, aren’t you, baby?” Zelda pretends to think, humming audibly. “I know just the thing!” She tilts her head to the side once more, the smirk shedding into a smaller; but more genuine smile. “Maybe if you mark me some, I’ll stop running such a hard bargain, hm? How’s that sound, Chosen Hero?”

“Sounds amazing,” Link says, wasting no time in burying his head in the crook of Zelda’s neck. He litters soft kisses along her throat before sucking deep hickeys into the crook of her shoulder. They blossom into red and purple marks along her skin, loudly claiming her for Link. “Mmm, fuck…” he mutters against her. His hands roam

“Link! Language!” Zelda gasps, never hearing him swear before. She threads her fingers through his hair, keeping his head snug against her shoulder. She could feel every mark forming on her skin, each one causing her face to flush harder than it already was. Zelda kisses his ear gently, doing her best to reciprocate the affection in some way. It felt too weird to her, standing there and not giving Link anything in return.

He chuckles, offering an ungenuine apology. “Just can’t help it, Princess.” Link bites behind her ear—not hard enough to hurt—but enough to send a shot of pleasure up her spine. He kisses the spot repeatedly until he sees a red ring of teeth marks starting to form. He steps back to admire his work. The left side of Zelda’s neck was covered in purple and maroon bruises, ranging from small to egregiously huge. How she was going to cover this up later was beyond Link; it was his plan, after all, to make them blatantly obvious. He stares at Zelda like she’s a work of art displayed in a museum and he’s a professor, desperate to analyze every inch of the art in front of him. “Can I do the right side, too? It looks lopsided.”

His gaze was too much for Zelda to hold, her eyes darting about until he spoke. “On-Only a couple, it’ll be hard to cover up the ones I already have,” she says, tilting her head in the opposite direction compared to before.

Link obeys Zelda’s wishes, only leaving around five lasting marks on her. The faint ones would clear up in under a day, so he figures they won’t be an issue. He places a dark hickey behind her ear, by her jawbone, and right above her collarbone. They were in much better hiding spots this time around, luckily enough for Zelda. Hopefully, it’ll be chilly enough to warrant a scarf for the next couple of days. Link gazes down at her again, nothing but love and admiration for her in his eyes. “I love you so much, Zelda. Always have, always will, Princess.”

She giggles softly and gives him a quick kiss on the lips. “I love you too, my Hero. It’s pretty hard not to.”

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Five

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Warning: A bit of violence, talks of grays anatomy with no spoilers, blood draws, a hint of PTSD and torture

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER FIVE- McDreamy

The morning after the gala, almost everybody was hung-over. It was the late morning hours before anybody even thought about getting up. They didn’t drink that often so it hit everybody pretty rough in the morning. Everybody except Y/N, Bucky, and Steve who never drank that much anyway.

Y/N and Bucky were down in the medical bay together. Y/N was having Bucky draw vials of her blood, wanting to have some on stand-by in case it was needed. She was sitting up on the medical bed, her left arm outstretched to Bucky who sat in a chair next to her, wiping her arm with an alcohol wipe. This was his third attempt at trying to take her blood, the first two unsuccessful.

“You know, if you miss my vein again I might have to rethink this friendship. I’m not a pin cushion.” Y/N smiled, a small chuckle passing her lips as she watched him clean her arm.

Bucky grins, laughing a little, “It’s not as easy as it looks, Doll. You have cold skin and tiny veins.” He picked up the new needle, his brow furrowing as he focused. He pushed the needle in, once again missing. He drew it out and looked at her, “So about our friendship.” He discarded the needle into a red bin.

Y/N almost laughed as he missed the vein again, but just a small chuckle passed her lips, “C’mon, Bucky. It can’t be that hard. Let me try.” She demanded with a smile, holding her hand out for the next needle. Bucky smiled and handed it to her. Y/N looked down at her arm for a moment, poking around on her skin before inserting the needle. The tube it was connected to started filling with her blood. She quickly connected the vial to the other end of the tube, watching it fill up before grinning up at Bucky, “See, not that hard.”

Bucky watched her, shaking his head as he laughed when she got the vein, “Now how did you learn to do that?” He questioned, replacing the now full vial with another empty one.

“Oh, Grey’s Anatomy. Netflix is great.” Y/N said, smiling at him.

Bucky nodded, having no idea what that show was. He didn’t watch too much tv. He mostly watched old movies, “Is that what you and Wanda are always laughing at?” He asked, smiling as he waited to replace the vial.

Y/N nodded, “It’s great. It’s funny, sad, tense… It makes a great show. Wanda likes McDreamy.” She said, smiling.

“Oh, McDreamy.” Bucky said with a laugh at the name. He couldn’t imagine a show where they have a doctor called ‘McDreamy’, “And what do you think of this McDreamy?” He questioned curiously, replacing the vial and looked at Y/N’s face.

Y/N shrugged, “He’s cute. Neurosurgeon, dark hair, dreamy blue eyes.” She said, examining his facial features, sensing a small amount of jealousy from him, “But to me he is egotistical, and seems to lie a lot. It’s a deal breaker.” She bit her bottom lip for a moment before continuing, “I’ve seen dreamier.” She concluded, her eyes still watching him.

Bucky smiled, removing the last vial. He removed the needle from Y/N’s arm, discarding it in the red bin. He then pulled out a small red bandaid, placing it over the puncture spot, “There, all done.” He smiled at her.

Just as they finished, Steve walked in looking at the two of them confused, “What are you guys doing down here?” He asked, walking towards them. He was wondering if they were having a ‘moment’, which he was glad to interrupt.

Y/N looked at her brother and smiled, moving to her feet, “Wanda told me that it would be a good idea to keep some of my blood in the storage in case anything happens. I think it’s a good idea too.” She said, “But nobody was up, and you were out training, so Bucky offered to help.”

“That’s very.. friendly of him,” Steve said, looking from Y/N to Bucky, then back to his sister. He wondered what was going on between the two of them. When she arrived, all she wanted to do was kill Bucky, stay as far away from him as possible. But now it was like the two of them were best friends again, inseparable. “I think Wanda was looking for you, Y/N. She wanted to go grab some lunch.”

Y/N smiled, “Lunch, yum.” She said, before turning to Bucky, “Thanks for helping me, see you two later.” She said, smiling to both before exiting to go find Wanda.

Steve smiled before turning his attention back to Bucky, “Did I interrupt another moment?” He questioned, eyebrows raised.

Bucky looked at Steve for a moment, standing from the chair. He folded his arms, “I was just helping her draw blood, is there an issue?” He questioned. He knew Steve always had suspicions about him and his sister being closer than friends. He couldn’t understand why he was so bitter about it when they were younger.

“I’m just wondering if you two are more than friends.” Steve replied, stepping closer to Bucky. His arms folded also, standing tall.

“We are just friends, Steve.” Bucky said sternly, “Is there a problem with that?”

Steve clenched his jaw, then relaxed a little, “There’s no problem with being friends with Y/N, Bucky. She just got back. I know how you feel about her, but she’s just getting back to herself. I don’t know if she needs more than a friend right now.” He said, looking to Bucky, wanting him to understand what he was saying.

Bucky nodded slowly, his brow pulled together in frustration, “You know I would never force Y/N into anything, or make her uncomfortable. It took months for her to look at me like I wasn’t her enemy, even longer to talk to me.” He said through his clenched jaw, “Have you stopped to think I’m the only one who knows what it feels like to go through what she has?” He paused, before continuing, “I’m just trying to be there for her, Steve, in whatever capacity she needs me.”

Steve was silent for a moment, before nodding, “You’re right. You understand Y/N’s trauma better than anybody. I just… Don’t push her, Bucky. We just got her back.”

Bucky nodded, “I won’t.” He promised and with that, the conversation ended. Bucky put the vial’s of Y/N’s blood into storage before exiting the medical bay. He meant what he said. He would never push Y/N into anything she wasn’t ready for. He wanted to be there in whatever way she needed whether it be a friend or more than a friend. But he would wait for Y/N as long as he had to.

--

“I heard there was a moment.” Wanda said across from Y/N as they were sitting and eating lunch. They sat outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while eating their sandwiches and chips.

Y/N looked at Wanda confused, “Moment? Well, there’s lots of moments in a day. Which one are we talking about?” She asks, taking another bite out of her sandwich.

Wanda looked at Y/N with a ‘do-you-think-I’m-dumb’ look, “A you and Bucky moment.” She clarified, “Last night. At the gala.” She spelled it out for her friend.

Y/N chewed slowly, trying to think of what she was going to tell Wanda. Of course she still had feelings for Bucky. She always had and they never went away, just got buried deep down for a while, “Oh, that moment.” Y/N finally said, placing her sandwich back on its plate, “I think it was the wine. And the dress. And his suit.” She said as an excuse.

“Oh, yeah, the dress.” Wanda said, “It definitely wasn’t the fact you two still have feelings for each other.” She picked up a chip from her plate and threw it at Y/N, landing it in her hair, “I can see in your mind. You can’t lie to me. Now tell me the truth.”

Y/N picked the chip out of her hair, looking at Wanda, “I don’t know what it was, Wanda. He’s never stopped being there for me even when I hated him. He was patient with me, kind when I was nothing like that to him.” She sighed, leaning her elbow on the table so she could cup her cheek in her palm, “I may have flirted back a little and we maybe almost.. kissed… but then Thor showed up. Moment ruined.”

Wanda listened to the story, nodding her head as she took another bite. She swallowed then tilted her head at Y/N, “Did you wish Thor didn’t show up?” She asked curiously with a smile.

“I… I don’t know. I wanted the moment. It was like the date we never went on.” Y/N said, poking at her sandwich, “But I just started accepting him again, giving him a chance. I’ve started to actually talk to him again, and even though he’s everything I remember him being and I do have feelings for him, part of me is still worried I can’t trust him.” She admitted.

“Give it time, Y/N.” Wanda said with a smile, “He will wait for you.” She said, knowing what she said was true. Bucky was easy to read especially when it came to Y/N, she was constantly on his mind. Wanda didn’t even have to use her powers to know that, “So were there any other moments during the blood drawing?” She nodded towards the red bandaid still on Y/N’s arm.

Y/N laughed, “No, no moments I promise.” She said smiling, “Although, I had to puncture my own vein because he couldn’t get it. Said it was due to all the Grey’s Anatomy we watch. He wasn’t amused when I told him about McDreamy, maybe even a little jealous.” She chuckles, picking her sandwich back up to take another bite.

Wanda laughs, “Of course he’s jealous! McDreamy is….” She smiled, wiggling her eyebrows at Y/N, “Dreamy.” They said together with a laugh.

--

It had been two weeks since the gala. Y/N had started hearing the whispers again in her head, but they were soft. She told Wanda as promised, who said she would also keep an eye on them. Y/N hadn’t been sleeping too well since the whispers started again. Her memories seemed to be creeping back to her through her dreams. She remembered more about the other red eyes. She started to fear them less, remembering more about who they were.

Y/N had also been spending more time Bucky since the gala. Everyday they found time to be alone to talk to each other. The moments they shared together were Bucky’s highlights of his days. They would often walk around the outside of the facility, talking and laughing. Keeping his promise to Steve, Bucky wasn’t making any moves towards Y/N. He would wait for her to make her moves before making his own.

“So did you ever get those sunflowers I had Bex buy?” Bucky questioned as he walked with Y/N, smiling as he watched her movements. He would always have his sister buy sunflowers for Y/N while he was on deployment. It was evening and starting to get a little cold. He wondered if she would want to head inside soon, but knew they wouldn’t have much time to be alone indoors.

Y/N smiled and nodded, “I did, thank you. They were always sitting on my desk when I came back from a class. She even drew little hearts on the cards for you.” She chuckles at the memory, remembering how Bex was always pushing Bucky closer to Y/N. Bex loved the idea of having her best friend hopefully someday become her sister.

Bucky smiled, “Yeah, she was always making me look good.” He said, looking down at the grass as he walked. It hurt him to think about what his sister must’ve thought happened to him, but he knew Bex only thought of him as a hero since the official story was presumed killed/missing in action. Bucky had noticed that over the past two weeks since the gala Y/N had become a little more quiet as if she was lost in her head, “Have you been doing okay?” He asks, “You’ve seemed a little off.”

Y/N looked at him for a moment, then down at the grass as they continued walking. She hadn’t told Bucky about the whispers or the dreams. She bit her lip, still looking down, “I..” She began, “I’ve been remembering some things lately, from before. It’s like my brain is forcing my dreams to remind me.” She said softly.

Bucky looked at her concerned, noting that she was keeping her eyes on the grass as they walked, “I know what that feels like. I still have nightmares about the things I’ve done. They’re haunting.” He said with a sigh.

Y/N nodded, remembering her dreams. They were intense. She was remembering more about the other red-eyes like her. She remembered what they looked like, and which one the whispers belonged to. He had dark black hair that covered his eyes slightly and was always wearing a smirk. He looked pure evil to her. Y/N debated discussing more on the topic, feeling like she needed to get it off her chest. As they approached a bench, Y/N sat down, picking at her fingers as she focused still on the ground.

Bucky sat down to the left of Y/N, watching her pick at her fingers. Whatever she was remembering was obviously bugging her. He waited in silence for a moment before speaking, “You can talk to me about it, if you’d like. It can stay between us.” He promised. He wanted her to open up to him so he could help take the burden off of Y/N, not allow her to go through this alone.

Y/N sat silently for a moment longer, listening to his words. She was debating whether she could trust him with the information, the painful memories, “I’ve been remembering more of the other two like me.” She finally said softly, her eyes still on the ground. The dreams flashed through her head as she remembered them. Y/N was screaming in the memories, being held still by another man with red eyes, but he had blonde hair and had scars across his face. Alexei. She remembered as she was held, the one with darker eyes would approach her with that smirk on his face, tsking at her and saying her name as he got closer and closer to her. She remembered his name too, Dimitri. Y/N broke the silence again, “One of them was a shorter man, blonde hair. He had scars across his face, Alexei. He was the second made. The other had dark hair. Dimitri… He was the first of us and also in charge of keeping us in line when there wasn’t a mission.” She said softly, her eyes staring at the grass as if she was in a trance like she was locked in the past, “Dimitri had taken out his chip long ago, I remember his scar behind his ear, same as mine.” She gestured towards behind her left ear. Y/N looked at Bucky for a moment, noting the concern on his face before returning her gaze to the grass, “Dimitri had plans for us three. He wanted to take over the Hydra facility, be king. But he needed Alexei and I on his side to do that.” She paused for a minute again, “Alexei got in line easily with Dimitri, it didn’t take much. They were murderers in their past life and got along well, especially after Dimitri removed Alexei’s chip. But me, it took a little more convincing to make me complicit.” She said so soft it was almost a whisper, “Dimitri would have Alexei hold me still when we were all stuck together. He would say the good in me was holding me back from greatness, wanting me to comply with his plan. He was the one that gave me these scars.” She said, her hand tracing along one of the scars on her arm, the shape was of a bite, “The venom doesn’t kill us, but it does cause nasty hallucinations. It was his way of trying to get me to comply, to give into his plan. I killed a few Hydra guards in some of my hallucinations. I think that’s what hinted to Hydra of what Dimitri was doing, why they locked us away. The chips wouldn’t work when I was in these hallucinations. He’s the one I hear in my head.”

Bucky listened to her closely, his brow pulled together in worry and anger as he listened. He finally had names though, Alexei and Dimitri. Obviously Russian. He had lifted his right hand to touch Y/N’s back comfortingly. He had remembered seeing her in the hallway in the towel, noticing all the scars in the shapes of bites running up her legs until they disappeared under the towel and along her collar bones. It made his inside burn with rage. The thought of another man not only touching her, but hurting her gave him anger he didn’t know existed. His left vibranium hand was clenched in a fist, but his right hand remained soft on Y/N’s back, “I’ll never let them hurt you again.” He said, keeping the anger out of his voice, “I promise.” He swore, knowing this was a promise he would die to keep. Y/N was worth everything to him, and he would gladly give himself up to protect her if that was his only option.

“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, tearing her stare from the grass to meet his gaze. She could see the anger behind his eyes at the story, but she also saw the concern he felt for her, “They’re memories I rather not remember. I wanted to keep them buried down, but it’s nice to not have the burden on my own. He’s been whispering to me lately." She paused, "He whispers less when I’m around you, I don’t think he likes you.” Y/N said softly.

Bucky nodded, “They’ll eat you alive if you don’t let them out. You’re not alone,” He said, moving his right hand from her back to gently sweep the blonde hair away from Y/N’s face, “I’m always here, whenever you need me. I’ll keep your secrets.” He promised with a small smile. As much rage as he was feeling, it melted away when Y/N looked at him. He felt butterflies in his stomach. He felt warm around her, “If he starts whispering to you again, just come find me. I’ll scare him away.” Bucky promised with a crooked smile, the tips of his fingers still touching her face.

Y/N finally smiled a little bit, lifting her hand to touch his. She threaded his fingers through his, pulling his hand down onto her lap. She kept her fingers intertwined with his, looking down at their hands. Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, blinking her eyes tiredly. It’d been a few days since she had a good nights sleep on account of the nightmares forcing her to remember things from her past, “I think it’s about time for bed.” She said softly, though not making any movements to head inside.

Bucky smiled as Y/N took his hand, letting her fingers lace through his own. Her touch calmed him. He was losing himself in her touch. His grin widened as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Bucky wanted to be frozen in this moment with Y/N. He would happily be in this moment forever, just Y/N and himself. He stroked her hand with his thumb gently. He couldn’t deny he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her. Every time Y/N touched him, it took everything to resist the urge to pull her closer to him. Bucky smiled a little hearing her talk, knowing their moment was coming to an end again, “It is pretty late.” He replied, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb.

Y/N sighed, forcing herself to stand and pulling Bucky by his hand with her. She kept grip of his hand, smiling at him gently, “Walk me?” She asks, her eyes locked with his.

Bucky grinned down at her, “It’d be my pleasure, doll.” He said. They kept their hands intertwined as they walked towards the doors into the facility, releasing each other before they stepped through the door. Bucky again walked Y/N to her room, not entering. He knew Wanda was probably in there asleep by now. He looked down at Y/N who had paused at the door before opening it. She had turned to face him, staring up at him. He smiled down at her, lifting his right hand to touch her face again, “Goodnight, Y/N.” He said softly to her.

Y/N smiled at his touch, leaning her face into his hand slightly. His touch made her skin crawl. It was like she was a magnet to him, not wanting to separate from his touch, “Goodnight, Bucky.” She whispered back. She stayed still for a moment, not wanting to leave his touch, but then slowly slid through the door to her own room, shutting it behind her. Y/N looked at Wanda who was sound asleep. Being as quiet as possible, Y/N changed into a tank top and sweats, crawling into her own bed and quickly falling asleep.

Bucky watched Y/N disappear into her room, standing there for a moment. He wished he could follow her in and stay close to her. He tore his eyes away from the closed door, walking down the hallway to his own room and shutting the door behind him. He wondered how long it would be until he could end the night with a kiss instead of just a ‘goodnight’.

--

“Is this real life? Is this just fantasy?”

Y/N woke up with a jolt, breathing deeply as she could hear Dimitri’s voice in her head. She lifted her hand, rubbing the side of her head at his singing.

“I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because I’m easy come, easy go, little high, little low.”

The voice practically screamed the song through Y/N’s head, causing her to get up and leave the room as to not disturb Wanda. She rubs the side of her head with both hands tiredly, “Is this what we are doing now? Singing?” She growled out softly to the voice in her head. She wasn’t scared of the voice anymore since she remembered him. It just made her anger grow when he was inside her head.

“Mamaaa… Just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead..”

Y/N winced at his singing. It was off key and very bad. It was practically torture as he screamed the song in her head dramatically. She made her way down the hall, pausing outside Bucky’s door. She debated if she should go in or not as Dimitri was yelling the Galileo part of the song in her head. She touched the doorknob before deciding against it, not wanting to disturb him just for the off key singing in her head.

Y/N could feel her frustration rise as she made her way outside of the facility, her bare feet touching the cool grass. She felt as though she could scream. Dimitri wouldn’t stop singing. She gripped the sides of her head, “For the love of god, stop, Dimitri!” She growled out. To her surprise, the singing in her head stopped and she let out a sigh of relief.

“I was trying to get you outside.” The voice whispered in her head softly with a chuckle.

Y/N froze at his words, looking around slowly through the darkness. She saw a figure laying on the grass. She approached slowly, trying to discern who it was. Once she saw it was Clint laying on the grass knocked out, she got closer and leaned down, “Clint?” She whispered, shoving his arm slightly trying to wake him. He must've been out on a nightly jog. She was about to speak his name again when a hand wrapped around her throat, pulling her up onto her feet and turning her to face similar red eyes. She looked at the man in the darkness, staring at his red eyes. He had blonde hair, scars across his face. She grabs onto his arm that held her neck, trying to force him to let her go. The next word passed her lips with a growl, her red eyes staring angrily at the man in front of her with his hand around her throat.

“Alexei...”

---------

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten @springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @vivien-1211

[therainroguefanfiction]

Seigaku’s Haunted School of Doom (Tenipuri Halloween Special) [2 of 4]

Previous Chapter

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You were headed for Seishun Academy, carrying the backpack that held your costume. Since Eiji wouldn’t quit whining, you left at eleven o’clock instead of eleven-thirty. By the time you reached the school, however, it was about eleven-twenty.

You had to say, the school didn’t even look like a school. There were cobwebs hanging all over the trees, fake bats hovering overhead. The pathway leading to the door was surrounded on either side by unlit Jack-o-Lanterns. You could see black cats sleeping in the grass, lying under trees, and hiding in the bushes. Fog was covering the ground, making the grass almost impossible to see. They even had a few headstones and skeletons scattered around. On the wall next to the door was a skeleton pinned there by a knife through its heart – or where its heart would have been. Blood was dripping down the wall from the wound to the grass. There was also half a body off to the side, its mouth open and eyes wide. If you had to guess, you’d say it was animatronic.

Glow sticks were being handed out by the door in choices of blue, green, yellow, red, and orange. Behind the boy stood about ten different bins filled to the top with varied glowsticks; necklaces, bracelets, and rings.

“Oooh! Oooh! Can we get some? Ple~ase?”

“Sure, Eiji.”

He grinned and asked the ninth-grade boy for a blue and green glow necklace. You took an orange glowstick that hung down low on a piece of rubbery string.

Once inside, you were completely shocked at what you saw. There were tables, one right after the other, lined up against the wall leading all the way down the hall. Each table was either filled with candy, drinks, or pizza. And they really went all out! Pepperoni, sausage, vegetarian, cheese, bbq chicken, and meat lovers to name a few of the pizza selections. Cherry Pepsi, vanilla Coke, fruit punch, 7UP, Mountain Dew, even tea, and Kool-Aid!

What was really amazing was the candy selection. Jawbreakers, sour gummy worms, nestle crunch, nerds, 3 Muskateers, nerds rope, snow caps, skittles, Hershey bars, M&M’s, Milky Way, Kit Kat, Twix, Starburst, Twizzlers, Candied Apples, Jolly Ranchers, Air Heads, Suckers and so many more, you couldn’t even name them all.

Eiji’s eyes lit up like Christmas tree lights as his mouth hung open. It was easy to see that he was ready to pounce on one of the candy tables. He only managed to take a couple of steps before one of the ninth graders grabbed him. The boy pushed his glasses up with his index finger before speaking. “Do not even think about it, Kikumaru Eiji! I will not let your childish ways ruin this day in any way! Do you understand me?”

Clearly, this boy was one of the volunteer students who helped to set all of this up. Eiji gave him a pout, but the boy didn’t budge.

“Candy is off-limits until dark. I’m hoping I can trust you, Sanada Y/N, to keep this boy under control.”

You raised an eyebrow. Was this guy serious? “Uh, sure.”

He simply nodded and walked off.

You and Eiji glanced at each other before taking off walking towards the rooms they had set up for changing; one for the girls and one for the boys.

You sighed deeply as you changed into your costume which consisted of brown pants, white and black skull sneakers, a white baggy shirt, and a black coat. Your nails were painted black and you had a black choker around your neck. You also wore a brown belt around your waist that carried your sword.

You walked out of the room to see Eiji standing there waiting on you. His costume was fairly simple; a white catsuit with his face exposed. Painted on his face were black whiskers and a nose, and he also had fangs.

He grinned when he saw you. “You look amazing!”

“Thanks. So do you, Kikucat.” You smirked, flicking his forehead.

“I wonder when they others’ll get here.”

You started to wander the halls, side by side, taking in the various decorations and costumes.

“Some of them might already be here,” you murmured.

Not many students had actually arrived yet, but the ones that had arrived had already changed into their costumes. The only people not in costumes were the ninth-grade supervisors who wore the school uniform.

“Do you know what everyone is going as?” he questioned.

“Not a clue.”

“Neither do I,” he pouted.

“You’ll know soon enough.” As soon as you finished speaking, someone ran into you, falling to the floor. Upon looking down, you noticed the familiar purple hair of the only boy shorter than Echizen; Shou Ota from Josei.

You held your hand out to him and he grabbed it, allowing you to pull him to his feet. He muttered a ‘sorry’ and dusted off his Josei uniform.

Takahisa Kajimoto, the captain of the Josei tennis team, appeared a few seconds later. “I told you not to run,” he scolded.

Shou looked down, muttering another “sorry.”

“I’m really sorry about this,” Kajimoto apologized. Of course, since he was the captain he felt the need to apologize every time a member of his team did something they shouldn’t.

“It’s not a big deal.”

Eiji nodded. “Yeah, no harm done!”

“This place is really amazing. They did an awesome job on it,” Kajimoto commented as he walked next to you. Shou was walking a little bit in front.

“How come the two of you didn’t dress up?” Eiji asked, curiously.

“We didn’t want to,” Shou muttered.

“Oh.”

“Are the others here? I was hoping to talk to Tezuka.” Kajimoto asked.

“We haven’t seen any of them, yet,” Eiji started.

“And Tezzy didn’t want to come,” you finished.

“How come?”

“Said it wasn’t his thing,” you shrugged.

“Oh, I see,” he chuckled.

Shou stopped walking, making the three of you stop as well. In front of him stood a seventh-grade blonde girl who was dressed as a fairy princess. She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at the small purple-haired boy. Shou took a step back and you placed your hands on his shoulders, making him glance up at you before looking back at the girl.

She stepped forward. “I thought I told you to leave.”

“You can’t tell him that!” Eiji huffed.

“I can tell him whatever I like!” She shrieked, pointing at Shou. “That stupid brat ruined my sister’s costume!”

“She ran into me,” he defended, quietly.

“Don’t you dare, you pathetic little boy!” She stomped her foot in anger. “My sister isn’t a clumsy idiot like you!”

“Just calm down,” Kajimoto stepped forward. Always the level-headed one. “It was an accident.”

“No way! Not until he apologizes!”

“He’s not going to,” you told her, holding him firmly in front of you.

Eiji nodded in agreement, putting his own hand on the small boy’s shoulder. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I can’t believe you’re sticking up for that spoiled brat!”

“The only spoiled brat around here is you,” you spat, pushing Shou forward so that he’d start walking. The two boys followed, glaring at her as they passed. You stopped in the first empty classroom you could find which was quite a bit difficult.

Shou turned around and looked at the two of you. “Why’d you stick up for me?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Eiji blinked in a confused manner.

“You didn’t know the situation! I could have been lying.”

“Were you?”

“Well, no.”

“See?” Eiji grinned.

“How could you know that?” Shou asked, confused.

“Call it instinct,” you told him, smiling.

He stared at you in shock. “I-Instinct?”

Eiji nodded, holding up two fingers to form a V. “Me and Y/N are really good at reading people. We woulda known if you were lying!”

Shou’s shock resided, to be replaced by a smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” you both chorused.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

After your little encounter with the two Josei boys, you decided to head out to the tennis courts for some fresh air. What you found was Echizen and Taka, already in their costumes, playing a game of tennis. You had to admit, it was kinda funny seeing them like that.

Echizen’s costume consisted of light brown pants, a white button-up long-sleeved shirt with small ruffles down the front, and a light brown coat. He wore dark brown boots and a brown hat with two grey feathers sticking out of the left side. A black belt with a gold buckle was secured around his waist with his sword hanging from the left side. If you weren’t mistaken, he was dressed as a Muskateer.

Taka was dressed as a baseball player. He had on a white shirt and pants with black vertical stripes. His shirt was tucked in and his pants were held by a small black belt, which also held his baseball bat that hung from the back. A white baseball cap covered his brown hair, while black baseball shoes covered his feet.

“Hoi, Hoi!” Eiji exclaimed, running onto the court and tackling the caught off guard Echizen into his death grip.

Taka blinked as he watched the scene before him. A big white cat squeezing the small Echizen in a bone-crushing hug while Ryoma struggled to break free.

“He needs to breathe, Eiji.” Fuji appeared next to you, smiling at the two boys.

Shusuke was dressed as a samurai, his sword strapped to his back. His samurai outfit was made of blue and purple cloth.

He smiled at you. “Everyone is starting to arrive. Shall we go?”

“What time is it?” Taka asked as he put his tennis racket away.

“About five-thirty. Nightfall is about six-forty-five,” Fuji responded before turning around and heading for the school.

Once you got back inside, you noticed the small group of people standing by the stairs. Oishi, Inui, An, Kamio, and Shinji.

Oishi was dressed as a zombie bowler – why doesn’t that surprise anyone? Tan slacks, black bowling shoes, and a blue short-sleeved t-shirt with a black bowling glove. His skin was made to look extremely pale and he had various black marks on his skin. A bowling ball was hanging from the loose belt he wore.

Inui was dressed as an Egyptian Scribe. He had gold bands around both arms and his forehead, as well as a white sleeveless shirt that came down just above his knees. Gold sandals were on his feet, with straps that crawled halfway up his legs. He also held a small stone tablet that looked a lot like that damned book of his.

An had decided to go as an aqua fairy. Her dress was a silk turquoise that clung tightly to her chest and stomach but poofed out when it reached her knees. Deep turquoise and black wings were sprouted from the back of the dress, while a black chocker clung to her neck. She wore black and blue tennis shoes, turquoise nail polish and lip gloss, and black clips in her hair.

Kamio’s costume was quite interesting. He had gone as a living dead mouse. He was sporting a mouse tail and mouse ears, both of which had been modified to resemble that of zombie flesh. His face was painted in a similar fashion, with a black nose and whiskers. The beige shorts and red shirt he was wearing had been torn and ripped, while painted on cuts covered his pale skin.

Shinji, however, had gone ninja. He was covered from head to toe in a deep blue cloth. His eyes and a few strands of his blue hair were the only things showing through. His hands had been covered with the same color gloves. A pouch had been made in the back of the suit so that his sword could rest comfortably. A silver dragon with red eyes, easily the most noticeable thing, was stretched out across his chest.

“There you are,” Inui pushed his glasses up as you approached the group.

“You guys look amazing!” An commented.

“So do you!” Eiji grinned, glomping the girl and earning a death glare from Kamio who went into a fit of protests. Eiji’s only response was sticking his tongue out at him, which only angered him even more.

“Kaidoh and Momo have yet to appear,” Inui murmured, looking at the small stone tablet in his hands.

“Tetsu, Tachibana-san, and Uchimura should be here soon,” Shinji said softly before going into one of his muttering spells.

“Ah. Yuuta and Yanagisawa are coming, as well.” Fuji added.

“And if they come, you know Mizuki will too,” you muttered.

“Ayah! The real fun won’t come until everyone is here!” Eiji whined, clinging to Oishi.

“That’s for sure,” you chuckled.

“Ryoma-sama!”

Turning around, you saw Tomoka and Sakuno running towards the group. A little ways back, you could see the seventh-grade trio breathing heavily and trying to catch up to the two girls.

“You look amazing, Ryoma-sama!” Tomoka gushed, glomping the helpless boy who looked at you and Fuji for help. You just shrugged and Fuji smiled – of course, he was enjoying this.

Tomoka’s costume consisted of a yellow and white sleeveless shirt and skirt. Her pompoms were yellow and blue, while her tennis shoes were pure white. She also wore purple ribbons in her hair and purple stars painted on her left cheek.

Sakuno had gone as an enchanted butterfly, which was quite similar to An’s costume. Her dress was a deep purple and she had purple, blue, and black butterfly wings sprouting from her back. Her shoes were white with purple stripes, and she also wore deep purple elbow gloves.

“Y-You’re costume is really nice, Ryoma-kun,” she said softly, a small tint of pink coming to her cheeks.

Tomoka let go of Echizen and stomped over to her, pointing her finger in her face, “Nice? You should say something like ‘amazing!’ or ‘brilliant!’”

“Oi! Echizen!” Horio gasped as the three of them finally caught up.

Horio was dressed in Harry Potter robes – a Gryffindor.

Kachirou had gone as a transformer, the suit being made of a mix between cloth and metal.

Katsuo had decided on being a blue M&M.

Eiji managed to pull Tomoka, who had latched back onto Echizen, off and Ryoma moved to stand behind Fuji.

“Oi, Echizen?” Horio finally caught his breath. “What’re you supposed to be?”

“Muskateer,” he muttered.

“Shouldn’t there be three of you then?”

“Idiot!” Tomoka hit him in the head. “Ryoma-sama is so cool he doesn’t need two others!”

Echizen sighed, mumbling to himself as he turned around and took off walking down the hallway. The rest of the group followed.

“Bye, Ryoma-sama!” Was the last thing you heard before turning the corner. Echizen scoffed, which made Eiji chuckle.

“Her outfit does suit her,” Fuji mused.

“Suit who?” Tachibana walked out of one of the classrooms and into the hall to stand in front of us. Tetsu and Uchimura stood on either side of him.

Tachibana was dressed as a gangster. He had somewhat baggy blue jeans on, a gold button-up shirt that was halfway unbuttoned, and a bandana wrapped around his head. A black and gold fedora was put on top of that, which had a feather sticking out of the left side and a gold chain with a money sign pendant hung from his neck.

Tetsu was dressed as a groom ghost. The skin that wasn’t covered by his tuxedo was made to glow a soft white. A long black hat was placed on his head and black tennis shoes covered his feet.

Kyosuke was dressed as himself, wearing the Fudomine school uniform. The only difference was the fact that he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Bro!” An grinned, hugging Tachibana tightly.

“This is a really cool setup,” Tetsu grinned, glancing around.

“They worked really hard on it,” Eiji said.

“It’s six-twenty. Shouldn’t the rest of your group be here?” Tachibana asked, checking the gold watch on his wrist.

“They might be,” Fuji mused as you all took off down the hall once again. You, Echizen, and Kyousuke were in the very back, trailing behind the others.

“Huh?” Ryoma stopped in front of one of the open classrooms, which caused both you and Kyosuke to stop as well.

Inside the room stood Momoshiro and Kaidoh, both of which had decided to dress as Dracula. They were holding each other by the collar of their cloak, glaring daggers at each other. You could even see the small line of electricity that connected the two rivals.

You burst out laughing, causing both boys to turn their glares onto you.

“What the hell are you laughing at?!” They chorused angrily.

“Two idiots who are more alike than they care to admit.” You chuckled, holding onto Kyousuke’s shoulder to support your shaking form. They scowled, their glare becoming more intense as their annoyance grew.

Kyousuke pulled on the back of your shirt lightly to get your attention. “We lost the others.”

“Eh?” You looked over to where the group had previously been. “So we have.”

“Let’s not look for them,” Ryoma muttered. “They were getting on my nerves.”

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

Ryoma started to walk up the nearest staircase and the four of you followed. Ryoma was leading, Kyousuke was walking next to you, and the two vampric idiots brought up the rear, still arguing.

“Hey, Echizen?”

“Yes, Y/N-senpai?”

“Think Tezzy would get mad if I pushed Momo and Kaidoh down the stairs?”

“Probably.”

“We could say it was an accident,” you suggested.

“Fuji-senpai would see through that, don’t you think?” He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“True.”

“Well, well. Look what we found.” The five of us stopped walking and looked up at the top of the stairs. Shinya and Yuuta were standing on either side of Mizuki, who was smirking down at you.

Shinya had decided not to dress up and, instead, wore white shorts and a baggy blue t-shirt.

Yuuta, however, was dressed as a doctor. Brown slacks, a white long-sleeved shirt, a blue tie, and a faded blue vest. He wore a white lab coat over that and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

Mizuki’s costume stood out the most, though. Baggy black shorts situated with chains, black and white chucks, a black shirt with a silver skull covering the chest, and black eyeliner. He had a black wristband on his left wrist and a black leather spiked bracelet on the other, as well as a black spiked choker around his neck. His fingernails had also been painted black, while a deep blue guitar was strapped to his back. Mizuki had gone punk rocker.

“Mizuki, you look so… different,” you commented.

“I don’t think different is the word, senpai,” Ryoma muttered from beside you.

“That is the point, right?” Mizuki smirked, twirling a piece of his dark hair around his finger.

“Y-Yeah,” Momo muttered from behind you. Apparently, the shock of seeing a different Mizuki had caused the two vampires to stop bickering. Instead, they stared at Mizuki as if he were a three-headed alien dog.

“You don’t even look like Mizuki anymore!” Momo exclaimed, pointing a finger at the black-haired boy.

You nodded. “The only thing that’s the same is your eyes and hair.”

His smirk widened. “How sweet of you to notice.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing the remaining steps. The rest of the group followed, leaving the St. Rudolph boys behind. You kept walking until you ran into even more friends. Seriously, who would have thought all these people would actually show up?

Sengoku, Dan, and Akutsu were standing near the wall, chatting with each other. Well, Sengoku and Dan were talking. Akutsu was just standing there, scowling at the wall, like that’s anything new.

Sengoku had gone as a roman, while Dan chose Peter Pan. The grumpy ass went as himself.

“Y/N-chan!” Sengoku grinned, pulling you into a hug before you could stop him. “I’m a lucky Roman!”

You sweatdropped, trying to free yourself from the playboy.

“Lucky Roman?” Kaoru muttered.

“You look like a normal Roman to me,” Momo commented, crossing his arms over his chest. Kaidoh nodded in agreement.

Sengoku blinked, finally letting you go and walking over to the pair. You sighed and stood next to Akutsu, who was still glaring at the wall, and watched the three bickering boys. Sengoku was trying to defend the fact that he was a ‘lucky’ Roman while Momo and Kaidoh argued back about him being a ‘normal’ Roman.

“I’m surprised you came,” you glanced at Akutsu who shrugged.

“Dan wouldn’t quit buggin’ me.”

You looked over at Dan who stood between Sengoku and the two vampires. He was trying to stop their argument but, from the looks of it, wasn’t having much luck.

“Makes sense.”

“Kawamura here?”

“Somewhere. You wanna go find ’em?”

He shrugged, looking out the window. “Don’t care.”

“‘Don’t care,‘ my ass.” You grinned, causing him to glare at you. “Face it, Akutsu. You can talk big all you want, but me and Taka know you care.”

He scoffed in annoyance and you chuckled.

“My, my. What have we here?”

You knew that annoying voice anywhere. Looking over, you saw Atobe and the entire Hyotei tennis team.

Atobe, of course, had gone as a prince, while Kabaji went as a knight. Oh, the irony!

Hiyoshi, who looked none too happy about being there, was dressed as a detective, somewhat similar to Sherlock Holmes.

Shishido had gone as a Skeleton. He had a skeleton bodysuit on and his face was painted to match. Of course, he still had his hat on. Choutarou was dressed as an Indian which, in a weird way, seemed to suit him. He had applied what I’m guessing to be a spray tan so that his skin came off as a little bit darker.

Jirou’s costume was the best, in your opinion. He decided to go as the Gecko from the Geico commercials. An entire, full green lizard suit – the belly of the suit was white, of course. Gakuto, who looked even more unhappy than Hiyoshi, was dressed as a jailbird, orange jumpsuit and all. Yuushi was dressed as himself and was receiving quite a few death glares from Gakuto.

You raised your eyebrow in question, looking between the two boys.

“Gakuto is mad at Yuushi,” Choutarou clarified.

“Atobe made all of us dress up, whether we wanted to or not! Yet, Yuushi isn’t dressed as anything!” Gakuto fumed.

Yuushi pushed his glasses up with his index finger, a smirk gracing his lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m dressed as an honor student.”

“That’s not fair!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

Yuushi’s smirk widened. “Atobe said we had to dress up. Technically, I am dressed up.”

Gakuto huffed, turning around so that his back faced the blue-haired boy.

Atobe ran a hand through his purple hair. “The king approves.”

You rolled your eyes, “You love causing trouble, don’t you, Atobe.”

“Ah, ah,” He wagged his finger at you, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s Atobe-sama.”

“Gimme a break,” you scoffed.

He walked up to you, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it around his finger. “You will be awed by my prowess.”

“The only thing I’m going to be awed by is your stupidity.” You slapped his hand away and walked past the group of Hyotei boys. The last thing you heard before turning around the corner was Momo bursting into fits of laughter. You felt a tug at your hand and looked down to see Kyousuke walking next to you.

“I don’t feel comfortable with them,” he muttered.

“I don’t blame you on that,” you told him with a grin, which he returned with a smile.

“Y/N~chan~!” A red blur tackled you in a hug, causing you to lose your balance and fall to the floor. Upon closer inspection, you realized the red blur was Kentarou from Rokkaku.

“Try not to kill her,” Saeki appeared, with Hikaru and Harukaze on either side of him.

“Sorry, Y/N-chan!” Kentarou apologized, pulling you to my feet. “Is Echizen-kun here?”

You pointed over your shoulder and the seventh-grade boy took off around the corner, Hikaru and Harukaze following.

“Sorry about that,” Saeki apologized, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly.

“No biggie. Kentarou didn’t want to dress up?” you asked.

“I am dressed up!” Kentarou shouted, coming around the corner and dragging an uncomfortable Ryoma behind him.

“Isn’t that your tennis uniform?” Ryoma muttered.

Kentarou nodded, excitedly. “I’m dressed as a tennis player!”

You went to respond but stopped when Saeki put his hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “It’s best just to nod and agree.”

“Right, right.”

Kentaro started to talk excitedly to the unamused Ryoma, while Hikaru made more of his stupid puns only to get kicked in the head by Harukaze. Saeki stood off to the side, watching the group with amusement lingering in his eyes.

You tapped Kyousuke’s arm lightly to get his attention. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Stay with Ryoma.”

He nodded and you walked off, in search of one of the classrooms that held drinks. When you walked in, the first thing you noticed was Arai dressed as Zoro, being circled by a group of giggling girls. Rolling your eyes, you walked over to the corner that held a mini-fridge and pulled out a can of soda.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a protective hug. Instantly, you recognized who it was. “I didn’t think you were coming, brother.” You snatched Genichirou’s hat off his head and put it on your own. “You look better without it.”

In return, he grabbed the drink from your hand, making you scowl at him. “I’m not staying.”

“Why bother even coming then?”

“He brought me,” Akaya appeared next to him, also wearing the Rikkaidai school uniform.

“The others didn’t want to come?” you asked, taking your drink back and taking a sip.

“They had other plans. Can I…?”

You shrugged, handing the drink over to Akaya.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Next Chapter

[guqin-and-flute]

And A-Fu Makes 4 --Chapter 2

[Ao3 Link]

Grown ups were so weird. They spent so much of their time talking and doing boring things--even at Cultivation Conferences when they all were together, which A-Fu thought was hardly fair. 

All his fathers were usually busy during the day with Important Clan Matters with the other grown ups and he got stuck with the kids that had been dragged along, too. It wasn’t all bad--there were some fun kids that came, sometimes, like Ouyang Kui, who was the son of Old Clan Leader Ouyang and thought that A-Fu was hilarious. (Blue-Father had told him before that Old Clan Leader Ouyang wasn’t actually old for a Clan Leader, he just thought so because both Gray-Father and Blue-Father were younger than him. A-Fu had told him that he thought that they were actually pretty old, too, and Blue-Father had almost managed to hold back the laughing from his voice as he said, “A-Fu, you cannot just call people old; there are those that would take offense and it’s not polite.” But he hadn’t made him write lines or scrub the floor so it probably wasn’t a lesson that was all that important, anyway.)

It wasn’t that Cultivation Conferences were horrible, they just tended to be boring, because all the babysitters got brought along and they would watch everyone very closely and there was hardly any chance to do anything interesting at all. Most of the time, he would just hang out with any kids that came, Jin Ling, and whatever baby Aunt Yanli and Uncle Zixuan had decided to have that year. This Conference, it was twins--and no A-Yuan or A-Kui or anyone else his age. Just A-Ling and all the babies.

Jin Ling complained all the time about having 3 younger siblings-- “Why did she have 2? That’s too many at once!” A-Fu had demanded when Jin Ling had told him about the twins. Jin Ling had just rolled his eyes like he was stupid--but if A-Fu ever complained about them crying, Jin Ling would get very offended.

“They can’t help it! They’re babies!”

A-Fu had kicked idly at a lilypad from where they were sitting, soaking their feet on one of the docks of Lotus Pier with their pants all rolled up. The sun was making him itchy and sweaty, but the lotus seeds they were tossing back and forth into each other's mouths were refreshing and crunchy, which made up for it. “Then babies are dumb. Why do they act like it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to them?”

“Niang says it’s because it probably is the worst thing that’s ever happened to them, ever. They haven’t been alive very long,” Jin Ling added wisely, like he knew anything at all about babies. 

Well…he might. More than A-Fu, anyway. He did live with 3 of them. Except his little brother A-Qiang could walk now, though, so maybe he wasn’t a baby anymore. He still smelled enough to be one. When A-Fu said that he still thought they should get over it and stop crying, Jin Ling had rolled his eyes at him again, so A-Fu had raised one wet foot and shoved him off the dock into the shallows, getting his pretty gold and white outfit all muddy. A-Ling had shouted a bad word and they both had got in trouble with the Jin nanny. A-Fu split his ginger candy with him afterward, though, so Jin Ling forgave him pretty quick.

Babies weren’t all that interesting to A-Fu--they were squishy and loud and heavier than they looked and you couldn’t play anything fun with them. Aunt Yanli had let him hold new little baby A-Mei, while Jin Ling held her twin brother, A-Zan. He had felt a little guilty, because Aunt Yanli had looked so happy when she looked down at the baby in A-Fu’s arms, but A-Fu just kind of wanted to give her back. She smelled weird and she sort of looked like a bald, red little animal with tiny, tiny fingers he was afraid of touching in case something bad happened. He had looked over at Jin Ling, who had a lot of practice with such things, and how he sort of bounced around and looked fondly down at his baby brother like he actually liked being near him. A-Fu tried that bouncing thing a little, but A-Mei had squinched up her face and made honking noises, so he handed her back really quick. 

He had asked Blue-Father and Gray-Father later that day in the room they were staying in if he was going to get a baby brother or sister--really kind of hoping they would tell him ‘of course not’--but Blue-Father had gotten very quiet and Gray-Father had looked over at him. Blue-Father was watching his own hands. “It’s hard to say, little one,” Blue-Father had finally said in a weirdly even voice that was like when you were trying to step around a creaky floorboard all careful.

Gray-Father had made a loud huffing sound through his nose, scowling. “Again?” He demanded, but not at A-Fu. “You’ve already--” he seemed to remember A-Fu was there when he looked at him and pressed his lips together really tight and continued, “And you're not wanting for cousins. And there's still Wangji. I thought he had left it alone.”

“Da-ge, please. This isn’t the time.” His blue father just sounded tired, now.

“That he keeps hounding you on this--”

“You know that it’s not that simple.”

“It is!” Gray-Father’s voice was rising, but not like he was going to yell, just like he really really wanted Blue-Father to listen. “In this case, it is! Xichen, he’s just doing this because--”

“When you talk about the duty of a--”

“Bullshit.”

“Da-ge--” A-Fu saw Blue-Father’s eyes zip to him and away quickly but Gray-Father didn’t stop.

“You know that's not why he's doing this. Why shouldn’t this be enough for him? There’s A-Fu and there’s Wangji and there’s A-Yuan and at least 7 other near-cousins. It’s about image and control, A-Huan, he’s been like this since we were young; no matter what you do, it’s never going to--”

Blue-Father closed his eyes and that shut his gray father up faster than any of his words had. Gray-Father had growled in his chest all frustrated. Then, he had leaned over and kissed Blue-Father right on the lips. 

They didn’t do that a lot, never in public, and not a whole bunch around A-Fu--it probably wasn’t allowed for you to kiss on people in public, though it wasn’t a rule that was written anywhere that he had heard of. But they were in a private room of Lotus Pier while everyone else was going to sleep, so it was probably okay here. Gray-Father had looked into Blue-Father’s eyes really close and said, “You are enough as you are.”

A-Fu’s blue father’s mouth had gotten thin and shaky and he nodded and nodded without saying anything. 

“We are enough as we are,” Gray-Father had said with the same quiet, important voice and Blue-Father had swallowed really hard and he kept nodding and nodding, looking down at his lap. 

A-Fu’s stomach had squirmed with worry until Gray-Father turned and smiled at him and beckoned him over and A-Fu jumped to his feet, running over to crash into their laps. Blue-Father had wrapped his arms around him tightly, his hands petting over A-Fu’s hair as Gray-Father pulled them both into a hug that squished A-Fu between them in the best way, even if his head was just a little crushed. 

"So no babies, right?" He had smeared into Blue-Father's chest and Gray-Father had laughed.

"No, child, no babies here except you."

His blue father didn't say anything, just kept petting his head.

The whole conversation didn’t really make sense to A-Fu. He was still thinking about it the next day as he was swimming around in the lake with Jin Ling, his brain not letting go of the memory of his blue father trying not to cry the night before. It made him think of the last time he had seen him upset, just a few days ago at the Cloud Recesses. It didn’t happen a lot, so when it did, it really stuck in his head as a prickle.

A-Fu swooshed his hands around underwater, making his floating hair swirl like the clouds he had seen Blue-Father paint on wall hangings. “A-Ling, what’s a succession?”

Jin Ling, blinked water out of his eyes and spit out pond gunk. “Like when you win?”

A-Fu heaved a huge sigh because A-Ling so did not understand a single thing and paddled over to the dock where the nannies sat. He tilted his head back to squawk, “Jin-qianbei, what’s a succession?”

One of the Jin nannies leaned over to see him better, the sun glinting off her gold hair pin and her earrings like sparks. “Succession, xiao-gongzi? It’s the order of inheritance.” When he scrunched up his face, she tried again. “It’s who takes over when someone in charge passes away or is unable to fulfill their duties any longer. Sons and daughters and the order of birth.”

“Huh,” A-Fu said and thought about this hard, trying to make it fit like puzzle pieces. Taking in a deep breath, he floated on his back and closed his eyes against the sun that turned his eyelids bright red, listening to the ‘plink’ and ‘gloop’ of the water in his ears. He hadn’t wanted to ask Gray-Father or Blue-Father about what a succession was, because when he had heard the word, he had been breaking all kinds of rules. 

It had been the last time Blue-Father was so upset, a few days before coming to the conference, back when he had been putting away the wash bin he had used to clean the library floor as punishment for talking during meals. (Again. It was just so boring to sit there! Every other clan got to talk while they ate!) He was just going past Great-Uncle Qiren’s house when he had heard his blue father’s voice inside. 

 It wasn’t weird to hear him talking to Great-Uncle Qiren, and it probably wasn’t something very interesting, but then, he heard Uncle Wangji’s voice and that made him slow down. Everyone knew that Uncle Wangji didn’t talk much to begin with, and even less to Great-Uncle Qiren. As far as A-Fu knew, he wasn’t ever rude about it, but he sure didn’t say more than he needed to. His curiosity felt like a little minnow nibbling at his brain and, before he knew it, he was pouring out the gross water and shoving everything under a fancy bush by the path. Then, he snuck around the back of the house where there was a window that looked out at only trees, where no one on the paths could see him. 

He was pretty sure sneaking and eavesdropping weren’t ‘filial’ or ‘virtuous’ but he was curious--and Uncle Wangji had told A-Yuan and him that being curious was good. So A-Fu figured that believing that was pretty filial of him. 

When he peeked over the sill, he saw all 3 grown ups sitting sideways to him at the table that was over by the far window. Great-Uncle Qiren had his scowly face on where his beard twitched around like it was alive. Uncle Wangji looked...like Uncle Wangji, which meant he didn’t really look like he was feeling anything at all, just staring past Great-Uncle Qiren’s head. Blue-Father was pale. 

He might not have looked very upset to someone who didn’t live with him, but A-Fu could tell right away, because he wasn’t even bothering to try to smile.

Great-Uncle Qiren’s voice was sharp and angry. “--least he is a Lan, but that boy--”

“Has the headband. Has the name. In all respects,” Uncle Wangji interrupted Great-Uncle Qiren and turned his head just a little and stared at Great-Uncle Qiren, right in the eyes. “As you agreed.” 

A-Fu suddenly wondered if grown ups could get punished just like little kids did when Great-Uncle’s eyebrows came down and his beard and moustache twitched again and he snapped, “Wangji.” 

Uncle Wangji’s eyes flickered, just a little.

“Wangji,” Blue-Father said all quiet, in a very different voice. He didn’t look at Uncle Wangji, but instead at the edge of the shiny table.

Uncle Wangji said nothing, but his mouth got a little smaller and he went back to looking at the wall.

Great-Uncle Qiren was glaring at him. “Don’t think that I don’t know where he came from. You may refuse to say, but anyone with any unfortunate knowledge of your inclinations could guess that he is connected to...that man. That I let you keep him so near to you is a kindness. And you,” he turned back to A-Fu’s blue father. “This is supposed to be it, then? You would be pleased to leave our line of succession the way it is?” He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it. 

A-Fu’s face was starting to heat up and he balled up his fists. He wanted to burst out and yell at him to shut up--but bursting got you chores and lines and then he wouldn’t be able to listen, anymore. Bursting was like Gray-Father, who wasn’t a very sneaky person. Right now, he had to be like Yellow-Father, who could sit very quiet and smile at people who got angry right in his face. 

For a second, he felt really guilty when he thought of Blue-Father, who wouldn’t have been sneaking at all. Who was being sneaked on right now.

But no, A-Fu reasoned, he was actually sneaking on Great-Uncle Qiren. Who was actually still talking; “I don’t understand how this keeps happening. Where have I gone so wrong that you both repeat and repeat your father’s mistakes? Have you not seen where that leads? Have you not both seen what that does to your Clan? Your family? Choosing--” 

He stopped all of a sudden, just as A-Fu was starting to notice that this sounded a lot like talking behind people’s backs, which was definitely against the rules. Standing up, his great-uncle stuck his hands behind his back and turned with a scowl toward A-Fu’s window. A-Fu managed to hold back his squeak as he ducked down, heart pounding hard in his throat. 

When he heard footsteps, he almost ran--which would have been really dumb, because there were loose rocks all over the ground that clattered and crunched--but the footsteps turned around, going back and forth as Great-Uncle Qiren paced, then stopped. “Your duty is to your Clan, not to your own feelings, Lan-zongzhu,” he said the title like a reminder. “I cannot force you to do what’s right, but I would hope that I wouldn’t have to. I would hope that you, of all people, would realize how quickly these things can change and people die. No one wants to consider it, but you must. It is your place. Even your father managed this--absent though he was from all other duties. This is not something I can do for you simply because you do not like it.”

It was almost like what his blue father had said to him a bunch of times before--except it didn’t sound kind and patient and wise coming from Great-Uncle Qiren. In fact, A-Fu thought that he sounded pretty mean--if Great-Uncle Qiren had scolded him like that, he would be wishing he was anywhere else in the world and he might have even cried, a bit. A-Fu wanted to poke his head up again to see Blue-Father’s expression, but he didn’t know which way Great-Uncle Qiren was looking and definitely didn’t want to risk getting caught listening to what sounded like a Serious Adult Conversation.

A-Fu doubted Blue-Father looked very happy at all. 

“...I understand, shufu,” came his voice, still quiet. 

“But you will do nothing? You would put this to someone else? Wangji? And how would that go, do you think?” Great-Uncle Qiren shot back. 

There was a silence, long enough that the birds in the trees nearby filled it up with tweets and tweedles. A-Fu’s stomach was tied up in complicated knots and suddenly, the sneaking wasn’t so much fun, anymore. It hadn’t actually been all that fun to begin with; all it was was Great-Uncle Qiren yelling at people he loved. As quietly as he could, he snuck back to his wash bin and hurried off.

When he got back to the Hanshi after cleaning up, Blue-Father was already there sitting on his bed, staring at the backs of his hands on his knees. 

All he had said was, “A-Fu, I need some quiet, please,” in a low voice. For a second, A-Fu thought about pretending he had lost his voice and going on a silly search for it, as a funny joke to cheer him up. But it was weird to see his father so serious and pale and he didn’t think that he would want any goofing. So, instead, he had just bit his cheek and said, “Okay, die," and went to go find A-Yuan. He maybe even cried a little bit, but A-Yuan was really good about not asking him what was wrong twice when he didn’t want to talk.

Sneaking was something that A-Fu got pretty good at--seeing how long he could wait in a tree without anyone noticing he was there, padding around in his socks to jump up on people's backs when they least expected it. He had almost made A-Ling pee himself when he jumped out of his toy chest after hiding there for a million hours. It was like a game he was playing with the world.

Sometimes, it got him in trouble when people found him sneaking where he shouldn’t--once, he had sneaked into Uncle Huaisang’s room and climbed up on top of a big cabinet but had accidentally pushed off a bunch of stuff that made a huge mess, spilling all over his bed and when he got found out, he had been made to stand in a corner for, like, a year. He felt bad that he ruined the sheets Uncle Huaisang had kept complaining about, but he just made sure not to do that, next time. It made A-Yuan nervous and he would never, never come with him because he didn’t want to get in trouble, but he would listen to the stories A-Fu told him about it like he was hearing legends and he would gasp at all the right parts. Sometimes A-Ling would come on sneaking missions, but he clomped like a horse and breathed too loud, so A-Fu usually just left him behind on the hard ones.

There were people that were super easy to sneak on--like A-Qiang and the Jin nannies and Uncle Huaisang--and there were some people who were tougher--like Gray-Father and Blue-Father and Great-Uncle Qiren. The hardest level he still couldn’t beat was Yellow-Father, who always seemed to know when someone was watching him or when something was moved out of place. So many times, A-Fu had escaped the nannies and hid under his desk to surprise him when he sat down, only to have his father pause just as soon as he came in the room and say, amused, “Fufu, you’re not supposed to be in here.” He couldn’t even see him! And he had been so quiet!

The only time he could ever surprise Yellow-Father was in the middle of the night when he was sleeping, and he wasn’t ever, ever allowed to do that. (It was a Very Important Rule all 3 of his fathers had told him for as long as he could remember; no sneaking in the rooms at night and if he needed them to get up, he had to call from the door to let them wake up, first. This made sense and A-Fu always followed this rule because, while his blue and gray father’s sometimes woke up confused for a couple seconds, Yellow-Father always woke up with a big gasp and sat up really quick and it always made A-Fu flinch. He usually just tried not to wake him up or he would just crawl in on Blue-Father’s side instead, if he was there.)

Sneaking wasn’t really about hearing what people were talking about, most of the time, since they usually talked about confusing and boring adult stuff. It was more that sneaking was fun and it made him feel super proud to have something he was good at, finally.

 Because he was last in his class at pretty much everything--reading and recitation, writing, music reading, numbers. 

Classes were long and boring and his legs hurt to sit on for that whole, whole time and he wasn’t allowed to slouch or get comfortable or take breaks or anything. He would sit next to A-Yuan and stare out the window at the zipping bugs over the stream in the woods, or the seniors passing by on the walkways and the teacher’s voice would just slosh over him. He tried. He really, really did. The teachers said he didn’t and even A-Yuan said that if he stopped drawing on his paper, he could maybe learn more. 

It was easy for him to say. A-Yuan was good at everything--sitting still, handwriting, listening, remembering, adding numbers. He was so smart, A-Fu thought that he should probably be the teacher when he grew up. It wasn’t that A-Fu was grumpy at A-Yuan for being better than him at everything. It was just hard when people thought A-Fu was just goofing off on purpose and A-Yuan just didn’t even have to try and was amazing. It wasn’t fair.

So many times he had thrown himself onto Blue-Father’s lap and just sobbed because he was so, so frustrated he wanted to just chuck every book into the river and never try to read again. The characters were just blobby patches of sticks that didn’t mean anything and he could never remember the sounds they were supposed to make. 

“Just talk to me forever! Never write me a note! Just send me Jin butterflies until I die!” he had yelled into Blue-Father’s knees one time. “Reading is stupid! I’m stupid!”

“No, no, no,” Blue-Father had said and picked him up and held him close underneath his chin. “Never say that. Your cleverness--”

“I don’t have any, A-Yuan took them all,” he choked, yanking at his father’s lapel to try to burrow into his outer robes, where it was dark and warm and pressy and quiet. “Everyone is better than me. I’m probably not even good enough to be a succession!”

“...What?” His arms had loosened around A-Fu long enough to escape halfway into the robe pocket he had made, so A-Fu kicked his way in and hung there with his legs sticking out, curled around his father’s side, listening to the quiet gurgle of his tummy through his back. “A-Fu, a what?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. He didn’t want to talk about it, because he might accidentally let him know he had sneaked on that weird grownup conversation--Blue-Father was really good at figuring things like that out. “I’m just not good at anything good. I hate learning.”

“...Are you worried about being Clan Leader someday?”

No, not really because Blue-Father was never going to die like his birth parents, so he really wasn’t worried. Him and Gray-Father were going to be the Clan Leaders forever because they were strong and good at fighting and so he would never have to worry about himself being a succession or any of his fathers dying, ever, but he knew it was important to Great-Uncle Qiren. And he already thought A-Fu was a slacker and a troublemaker. And probably stupid. It made him feel like a small, lumpy toad that accidentally got into the library that everyone wanted to get out right away. 

“Little love, talk to me.”

A-Fu stayed stubbornly quiet. He didn’t have a plan, but he didn’t want to talk about this. Because what if Blue-Father decided that he was disappointed and that A-Fu really was stupid at school? What if he really just was going to be terrible at everything forever?

Gentle hands wrapped around his ankle and he squawked with a kick when something tickled against his foot like a sniffing bunny. Blue-Father held his feet still as he continued to lightly scratch the bottom, right in the middle where it tickled the most. “ACK! Stoppit!”

“Come out, then.”

“No!”

“I don’t talk to behinds.” He could hear the smile in Blue-Father’s voice. “I need a face.”

“No!!”

“Then I guess I’ll just--” the tickling went from one finger to a lot and it yanked a shriek-laugh that A-Fu didn’t mean and was mad about.

Kicking and worming around as hard as he could to show that he was still angry, he flipped over so he was on his back, head still hidden. Halfway what he asked. That tickle came back on his foot, so he yelped and reached up to yank the loosened robe down Blue-Father’s shoulder a bit, so he was still tucked inside, but he could look down and see A-Fu’s scowling face. “What,” A-Fu demanded in his absolute grumpiest voice because his father was forcing him.

“Rude,” Blue-Father chuckled and poked his nose. “Tell me what you’re good at.”

“Nothing.”

He tilted his head, and his smile got all soft and sorry. “Lie. Lies will get you chores.”

A-Fu made a huge scowly face and hid his face in his own sleeves, curling up his knees until he was an angry ball tucked into Blue-Father’s messed up outer robe and yelled, “I can’t think of anything!”

“Hmmm. What if I share what I know you’re good at?”

A-Fu was quiet, still hidden. But a grumpy quiet. Grown-ups always tried to get their way and make you feel better when you were so mad and it just made him madder. 

“You’re a very funny boy. You’re adventurous, you’re compassionate, you’re brave, you’re kind--”

He couldn’t take it any longer. “Those aren’t even things!” A-Fu burst out, pulling his arms away from his face to glare up at him. “Like, actual real things!”

“Oh? You don’t know when a person is being unkind?”

“It’s not a thing like writing or board games or fighting good! It’s not important!”

Blue-Father just looked down at him for a minute, face calm, eyes thinking. The air A-Fu was breathing inside the robe was warm and Blue-Father scented--incense and something dark-sweet, like fancy wood. Every once in a while, a chilly little wisp of air would come in from the outside and burn the inside of his nose with its fresh cold. He wanted to stay tucked in here forever and never go back to school or do anything hard ever again. His father was strong enough to carry him in his robes like a weird lady-boob all the time. They could just tell everyone A-Fu ran away and that Blue-Father decided to grow a gourd from his chest meridians or something. 

Then, Blue-Father said, “What are the things that your Gray-Father is good at?”

“Ughh, that’s so easy,” A-Fu complained and rolled his eyes, which got him an eyebrow raise and an ‘oh really?’ look, which meant that he was probably getting pretty close to being told to stop being rude for real. He let The Attitude go with another pout, poking out his chin, but he said, “Fine. He’s good at fighting. And cooking. And riding horses. And playing.” He thought a second, then added, grudgingly. “Bread.”

Blue-Father nodded encouragingly, smiling. “Alright. What do you like about Gray-Father? Do you like that he’s good at fighting?”

A-Fu squinted at him. “He just is.”

“Alright, then what do you like about Gray-Father?”

He thought about it a second--not because it was hard, but because he was trying to see if this was another trick to make him feel better. After he couldn’t figure it out, he just answered. “I like when he throws me and swims with me and plays Monster. I like when he gives me shoulder rides.”

Still smiling, Blue-Father held out his hand over him and spread his fingers and, automatically, A-Fu grabbed onto his thumb and ring finger and grumpily stretched them around. “Alright. What is Yellow-Father good at?”

“Talking to grownups and writing and knowing when I’m sneaking up on him and making A-Ling shut up.”

Blue-Father’s raised eyebrows gave his words back and A-Fu pouted but said, “Sorry,” and set about curling those long fingers one at a time into a fist. 

“And what do you like about spending time with him?” 

“I like when he braids my hair. And when he sings to me. And when he plays pretend.”

When his Blue-Father tried to stretch his hand out again to touch A-Fu’s cheek, A-Fu scowled and clamped down on it, making his father chuckle and curl it back up obediently. “So, do you see? There is more to a person than just what they can do. It’s how they make us feel and how they treat people. That is what’s important to me, little love. That you are fair. That you are kind. I will love you even--” he leaned in like he had a secret, glancing over at the door like someone might hear and, despite himself, A-Fu leaned up out of his pocket to hear his sneaky whisper, “--if you’re last in your class...forever.”

A-Fu’s eyes widened. “For really?”

His blue father nodded. “For really. It’s important that you try your best. But I will love you no matter what that is.”

“Hmmm.” A-Fu mulled this over and decided he felt a little better, but still didn’t want to leave his robe-cave. Blue-Father had taken his own hand back when A-Fu kept pretending to punch himself in the forehead with it (with sound effects) but had let him stay where he was while he wrote some letters. A-Fu had fallen asleep there, wrapped up in warmth and the smell of Blue-Father. Being mad always took a lot of energy.

The whole conversation got him thinking later about what sort of things everyone was best at. A-Yuan was good at class and making A-Fu calm down and folding little paper butterflies they could paint. A-Ling was good at being really annoying--but also racing and telling stories and lying. A-Qiang was pretty good at walking, now, and following A-Ling around and wanting to be a part of everything. The baby twins were good at...drooling and pooping, probably. Uncle Huaisang was good at painting and birds and telling jokes. Great-Uncle Qiren was good at remembering the rules and growing a beard and telling when you were lying.

Uncle Wangji was good at being quiet and playing the qin and, actually, pretty good at advice. After A-Fu’s Hard Time with reading, Blue-Father took him to talk to Uncle Wangji--though he really didn’t get why, at first. He just sat there all awkward and quiet, stabbing his rice with his chopsticks while Blue-Father explained it across the table from next to him. Uncle Wangji nodded slowly and looked over at him. “What is difficult about class?”

“All of it. The whole thing,” A-Fu mixed one chopstick around, peeking up at him from under one of his hair wispy’s. Uncle Wangji looked like he always did, face smooth like a wall. But his eyes looked kinda soft, like Blue-Father’s did when he was smiling inside, a little. 

“Sitting?”

“Yeah, shushu.”

“Listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mn,” he nodded. “You try?”

That question crunched up in him and he blinked a lot against his eyes getting all hot and fuzzy when he nodded. “Really, really hard.”

There had been one time where he was trying--he was, he was!--and he had seen something move out the window and when he looked, it had been Blue-Father walking with Gray-Father and he had been so excited, he forgot he was in class and he had jumped up and hung out the window, waving and yelling, “Die! Hi, die!”

They had both looked around surprised before they grinned at him and waved back, but made the ‘shoo shoo’ motion and he got yanked back inside by the teacher and yelled at in front of every single person in the classroom for being bad and ‘disruptive’ and ‘unruly’. He got a whack on his butt with the classroom stick, had got made to recite all the rules he had broken, and had to stand at the front of the class for the rest of the time. He had felt so humiliated that he couldn’t even tell Blue-Father why he was crying when he got home, and he eventually had to go ask the teacher to find out. 

A-Fu had never got whacked on the butt again, after that day, but he still got in trouble so much that sometimes, it was easier to stand at the front of the class and listen because at least he got to shift on his feet (though, he also got yelled at for that). 

“Focus takes practice. Practice takes time.” When Uncle Wangji stood up, Blue-Father had smiled and looked down at A-Fu. 

“Go with him, A-Fu. I’ll wait for you here.”

It was a little weird walking next to Uncle Wangji because he was so quiet and usually when grownups were really quiet around you, it was because you were in trouble, but A-Fu couldn’t think of anything he had done today to be punished for. So he just followed him out the door, down the white path and into the forest a little ways, to a small stream coming down the mountain through all the bushes and trees. It sounded nice and friendly, burbling all over the smooth, dark rocks. “Pick one. Or a few,” Uncle Wangji said, one hand tucked behind his back.

“One what?”

“A stone. Small enough to fit in your hand. It can be smooth or not, it’s your choice. Not too sharp.”

A-Fu squinted at him, then at the rocks. “Why?”

“When you pick, I will tell you.”

Maybe he was going to make him throw them? That sounded fun, so probably not, because this sounded like a weird, grown up lesson they were teaching him. He wasn’t going to make him carry a bucket of heavy rocks, was he? That sounded--and he was stealing a word from Aunt Yanli--dreadful. Just in case, when he hunted around, he picked just one, a small rock that was a little lumpy, but smooth, black with a little sparkly pocket in it and held it in his hand, warily. His hand hurt from how cold the water had been, like his bones were aching. “Okay….”

“Do you feel it?”

Duh. A-Fu almost, almost got sassy, but remembered the look that Gray-Father gave him when he did and just said. “Uh...yeah.”

“When you run your fingers over it, do you like it?”

Puzzled, A-Fu rubbed his thumb on it like an experiment. It felt like a rock. “It’s...a rock.”

“Choose one that you like to touch.”

Uncle Wangji, A-Fu thought, all annoyed, who likes touching rocks? But he didn’t say so because he didn’t know exactly how patient he was, so he just threw the first rock down the slope, into the bushes and started touching them all. Some were slimy and super gross, some were just...uh...rocks, and some of them were actually just mudballs, but after a little bit, where his fingers really really hurt and started to go numb from the cold, he found 2 that were kinda nice to run his fingers over because they were so smooth. One even had a little dip where he could hold it in his palm and fit his thumb right in it like it was supposed to go there. He had a little whine and cry that he couldn’t help because his hands hurt so bad, but Uncle Wangji had knelt down and cupped his own long hands around them and had slowly rubbed and blown on them until the feeling came back without even looking annoyed once, which A-Fu had been worried about. 

Uncle Wangji took a cloth from his sleeve and rubbed the stones until they were dry and clean, saying, “If you are quiet and careful, you can hold these stones while you learn. You can rub them, scratch them, turn them in your hand. It may help.” Then, he had tucked them back into A-Fu’s hands.

Curiously, A-Fu rubbed the rocks together and heard the nice ‘shhk-shhk’ sound they made. Too loud for class time, probably, but nice for now. “That’s not against the rules?”

With the smallest smile A-Fu had ever seen, Uncle Wangji tilted his head. “Fidgeting is prohibited. Then do not fidget--hold them carefully and hidden. It hurts no one and helps you. Busy hands can help your mind stay sharp. Perhaps it will become easier for you once you begin sword and qin training.”

“Huh. Was it hard for you to listen, too?”

“In the beginning. Practice, meditation, and focus help as you grow older.”

Uncle Wangji was pretty smart to come up with something like this, if it had helped him as a kid. Then, A-Fu thought about how A-Yuan sat so perfect in class, just watching and listening with no problem at all. He frowned, staring at Uncle Wangji’s white boots poking out from underneath his white robes when he stood back up. “You taught A-Yuan the right way to do it,” he muttered under his breath, feeling jealous and small and grumpy. “Why won’t you teach me?”

“You’re not like A-Yuan.” A-Fu looked up at him, expecting him to look mad that he had talked back, but instead, he just looked like Uncle Wangji. Like nothing, really, face calm and cold as the stream. But his eyes were still soft. “You are like Lan Fu. And that is good. You will learn like Lan Fu, just as I learned like Lan Wangji. Just like xiongzhang learned like xiongzhang.”

A-Fu looked back down at the rocks in his hand. “Okay.”

“Mn.”

“Mn,” A-Fu echoed back, without really thinking about it. 

A hand reached down and gently patted his head, then turned him back down the path. “Let’s return. Xiongzhang is waiting.” 

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Little Prince (Pt.1)

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

Roman Marrell was a man of class and sophistication. From the way he pinned his crimson hair to the way he stood in things from three-piece suits to floor length ballgown, no one could question that the singer held himself in high regards.

Or at least that's what it seemed to the outsiders. Roman was an incredible actor, but even actors had to break character at some point. There was only one person who Roman could count on not to ruin his life, one person who'd seen Roman with mascara trailing down his face, held him at night when he had nightmares and his face was swimming with so many tears he couldnt see where he was. His brother, Remus Marrell.

Quite the opposite of Roman, Remus looked like the kind of man you'd find looting trash bins for extra cash; loose ties, wrinkled suits, messy brown hair with a white streak he'd had since birth. The twins had two physical compliments to each other, the first was a matching birthmark on each of their hips, both in the shape of one half of a heart. The second, Roman's emerald eyes, and Remus' stunning ruby ones.

Roman may have had a successful career and may have been held higher up by the public. But Remus had something that Roman thought was much more special. Remus had his husband, Virgil Clove. Roman had always wanted a relationship, ever since he was a kid, but every boy he tried to talk to ran from him. Now that he was famous it was easier for boys to fawn over him, but now he knew they only wanted him for his looks, his money, they didnt want to listen to him talk. They wanted a pretty little husband to sit around and sing songs and cook for them while they lounged on the couch spending money on cars and beer.

Roman didnt want that, he wanted something real, he wanted someone who would treat him like a prince instead of a pretty face. But he knew that was reaching to far, for him to reach that level he'd have to have an emotional connection with someone, and he wasnt sure he could fathom something as intimate as that.

"Roman! You're on in five!" Roman looked at himself in the mirror, there he was, dressed in the most stunning of dresses with more sequins and glitter than one man would need in a life time, gold and red eyeshadow that contrasted so well with the green in his eyes, and matched perfectly with the red lipstick he wore. Then there was his tiara, it was large and gold and covered with jewels, but it didnt make him feel like a prince. No, it made him feel like a naive narcissistic fool.

Roman stood up, straightening his clothes before he took to the stage. He was met with whistles and cheers and comments that would make even Remus' stomach churn, whether with rage or disgust, Roman didnt want to know.

Then his eyes locked on someone he didnt recognize, someone new. The man was tall, muscular, with round black glasses and shining blue eyes like he'd stolen them from the ocean itself. His brown hair was a mess of curls, seemingly controlled only by a few bobby pins and hair clips. His lips were parted in a smile, a smile that sent Roman's fragile little heart pounding like rain on a window.

Roman tried his best to keep his eyes on the walls, he didnt like to make eye contact with costumers, it distracted him from his music. But something about this boy made him feel calmer, caused the sounds of everyone else in the crowd to melt into the abyss.

Roman had managed to get through about half of his performance without a single slip up, but rather than forget the lyrics to a song, Roman's performance was cut short but a round of gunfire. Roman ducked under the nearest table, his chest tightened, he felt like he was going numb.

Then he felt an arm around his waist, a strong one. He felt himself lifted off the ground and held close to someone, almost like a porcelain doll that might shatter if it were to be dropped.

Roman didnt know where he was going, but he couldnt seem to muster the words to ask. Soon enough, though, he was set down on the steps of a large building. He turned to face his rescuer, only to be met with those same striking blue eyes.

"You. . . Saved me?" Roman asked, he hadnt meant to sound disappointed, but there was concern etched in the man's face.

"Of course I did, what happened there was in no way meant to harm you, it was a retaliation and it wont be happening again," said the man. He reached up to knock on the door. Another man opened it, this one with brown eyes that looked almost gold, and a nasty looking burn on one side of his face.

"Jay, there's been an attack on the Butterfly Lounge, I'm not sure who did it but I know it can't have ended well," said the man with blue eyes.

Jay paused for a moment, looking over at Roman, Roman felt his insides squirming. "And who's this?" Jay said, his voice almost like a snake's hiss.

"The singer, Roman, I rescued him," said the man, a faint blush coated his face.

"Lo, you are to much of a softie for your own good," Jay spoke in a joking manner, moving out of the doorway and beckoning the two inside.

The inside of the house was elaborate and large, the walls seemed to have been painted over from black to much lighter shades of blue and gray.

"Please, have a seat, I'll have my husband get something for you," Jay said, gesturing Roman toward one of the large chairs in the main room. Roman sat down in the one that looked softest, melting into the fabric as though hoping it would absorb him entirely. Lo sat across from him, pressing his thumbs together as though he were thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, all of thus must be very confusing for you," he stated finally.

"Oh not at all, I understand I've been kidnapped by the mafia and most likely I'm going to be held for a random my parents will never pay and my brother wont be able to afford," Roman said. He wasnt entirely sure why, after all, no one had acted like this was a kidnapping since they'd left the lounge.

Lo sat there for a moment, clearly taken aback. "No no no no- that's the exact opposite of the point, see, it was our rivals that attacked the lounge, I merely wanted to ensure your safety, you'll be returned straight home once you've had a chance to relax, whatever that entails in your opinion," he said, a small smile appearing on his round face.

A few minutes later another boy rushed into the room with two plates. He was short, though he had a similar stature to Lo, and the same round glasses with clear frames, he was dressed in a light blue sweater and a short white skirt, both garments seeming to accentuate his hips.

"Terribly sorry about the wait, are you alright- Roman?" He asked as he shoved a tray over to him with the plate placed on it.

"Im- fine I suppose," Roman replied.

"This is Patton, Jay's husband, he mostly stays here and looks after the house," said Lo. Roman felt his stomach drop.

Patton's eyes widened slightly "oh no it's not like I'm doing this unwillingly, Janus asks me every time he goes out if I'd like to tag along, but I'm just not comfortable with his type of work," Patton said. Roman relaxed slightly.

It took a few hours, a nice warm bath, and a change of clothes for Roman to feel safe enough to go back home, Logan had promised to escort him, and now here they were in his bedroom. He'd allowed Roman to borrow one of his sweaters despite it being not only to long for him, but about two sizes to big. Roman didnt mind, it felt nice, and as long as he had shorts on it wasnt like it was going to do much.

When they finally got back to Roman's apartment, and Roman was finally able to get to a phone, he had a lot of things to explain to his brother. But first, he had to say goodbye.

"Thank you again, for saving me back there," Roman said, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other hugging the sweater closer to his body.

"It was my pleasure, little prince," said Logan, and without another word, he disappeared into his car, and down the street.

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

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@thefivecalls

@meowthefluffy

@boobmaster69

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@thecolorfulolive

[castielpit]

The Nightmares Don’t Stop- 9

Warnings: mild language, post-panic attack, mentions of panic attack, mentions of violence, mentions of PTSD, mentions of missing time/blacking out, mentions of firearms, unintentional self-harm, blood, bruises

Chapter List

You must’ve passed out at some point because you were no longer in the arms of Captain America- holy shit that actually happened didn’t it- and were now lying down on a cot in a sterile-smelling white room. You crane your neck to the side, surprised it didn’t feel too stiff. You must not have been knocked out for that long. You sit up on the cot, swinging your legs over the side. At least you were still in your clothes- as hideous as they are. The metal door to the room swings open. That mirror on the wall is probably double-sided glass- they were observing you.

“Hello there,” says the one and only Dr. Bruce Banner. Honestly, what else should you have expected? Nothing can surprise you at this point. “How are you feeling?” he asks, handing you a cup of water with a lid and straw. You accept it and gulp it down greedily, not caring how ravenous you looked while doing it.

“Thanks,” you mumble to Dr. Banner, giving him a small smile, which he returns. “So Dr. Banner, I’m assuming you have some questions for me after I almost choked one of your Avengers?” you ask, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Please, call me Bruce,” Dr. Bann- Bruce replies offhandedly. “And you never answered my original question, how am I supposed to ask any other questions before I get that answer?”

You blank for a moment before remembering his original question.

“Oh, yeah I’m feeling fine. I was just a bit dehydrated but..” you trail off, holding up your now empty cup as an explanation.

“Right. May I?” he asks, gesturing to said cup. You hand it to him and he throws it in the trash bin near the door. “Well I am certainly glad you’re feeling fine, Ms. L/n…”

“Please, call me F/n,” you mimic his earlier words with a tiny smile. To your surprise, he gives a little chuckle.

“Right, well F/n you were correct in assuming there are some questions we would like answered, but you don’t have to answer anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he states, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure you understand he is serious. You nod in understanding, prompting him to continue. “You seem quite calm for someone who passed out almost immediately after trying to choke Clint, so-”

“Is Clint alright? Oh god, is Mr. Stark angry with me?” you cut Bruce off, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you.

“Yes! Yes, he is fine besides some light bruising around his neck,” Bruce assures you, but your guilt even worsens. It must have been apparent on your face because Bruce continues quietly, leaning toward you slightly. “Don’t worry, we’ve all wanted to do that at one point. The only reason Tony would be angry is because he’s jealous you got to Clint before he could,” Bruce winks at you. A genuine giggle makes its way up your throat. A fucking giggle. Since when do you giggle?!  

“Anyways,” he leans away, glancing at what you assumed is the two-way mirror. “With how calm you have been since the incident, I can only assume this wasn’t your first…” he pauses in thought for a moment. “Episode?” You feel your shoulders tense up, sitting up a bit straighter. If Bruce notices, he doesn’t mention it, which you’re very grateful for.

“No,” you say barely audibly. You clear your throat and try again. “No,” that’s better, “This isn’t my first panic attack.”

“I see. Is it your first time having a violent reaction within the panic attack?” Bruce asks, writing some things down on a tablet as he speaks. You sigh, memories of therapists doing the same thing flooding your mind. He glances up at you.

“I don’t do well with human contact, especially when it’s unexpected. I have been able to avoid it and distance myself from people well enough until now, so this is my first physical reaction to it, yes,” you explain, being careful with your words. Bruce and the people behind the glass don’t need to know everything there is about you and your past. He continues writing on his tablet with the stylus, his face not giving away any emotion. No emotion was better than disgust, at least.

“Is the issue with human contact something that is a result of PTSD possibly?” Bruce questions gently in a quieter voice, setting aside the tablet and stylus to look at you. You nod affirmatively, an action which he mimics. “Is there anything else you feel might be important for me to know to ensure the safety of others in Tony’s program?” Your eyes widen.

“Mr. Stark isn’t kicking me out?” you ask, the shock evident in your voice. Bruce smirks, his eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

“If Tony refused to work with anyone that has made mistakes such as yours, the Avengers wouldn’t exist. Hell, Tony wouldn’t be able to work with himself even.” Bruce glances toward the mirror again, allowing his eyes to linger for a few seconds before returning his gaze to yours.

“Oh, wow! I guess that makes sense. I still almost can't believe it!” you exclaim, not bothering to hide the excitement in your voice. “And to answer your question from before...in the moments immediately following the contact Clint made with me, I sort of blacked out.” Bruce raises his eyebrows slightly.

“You don’t remember what happened?” Bruce prodded.

“I remember shooting one of the rifles, Clint placing his hand on my wrist…” you pause, recalling the memory that had played in your head during that time. You stare Bruce in the eyes. Could you trust him? He seemed so genuine. “And then I was reliving a memory. Once the memory played out, I realized I had Mr. Barton pinned beneath me, with my hands…” your voice chokes off a bit from the memory of your past and from what happened with Clint. The door suddenly bursts open. Your eyes shoot up to see your savior himself, Steve Rogers, barreling towards you. He reaches forward and grabs your hands gently. You flinch slightly and look down at your hands, covered in blood, along with your thighs now tracked with fingernail scratches.

“I- I didn’t realize…” your eyes widen, not even remembering when you started to scratch yourself. You look up into blue eyes filled with concern. Behind the wall of muscle that is Steve Rogers, you see Bruce running his hands through his hair nervously and Tony Stark standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. Behind Tony you make out two shadows.

“After Bruce asked you if you remembered what happened, you started scratching your legs and wouldn’t stop. You kept speaking even though Bruce was shouting your name for you to stop,” says Steve softly. He looked down at your hands, dropping them gently when he realized he was still holding them.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you say looking over to Bruce, then to Tony, and finally your gaze landing back on Steve, who was now sitting next to you on the cot. “I don’t know what happened.” The room is silent for a few moments, nobody daring to move.

“Jesus Christ guys,” comes a voice from behind Tony. Tony, who is now stumbling as someone rushes past him over to some shelves near the side of the bed. Someone reaches out to steady Tony. You see a flash of red hair and look away, knowing it was the woman whose best friend you had left bruises on. You decide to look over at the now grumbling man who was shuffling through the drawers, pulling out bandages and rubbing alcohol wipes.

“With the amount of PhDs in this room you would think one of you guys would know what to do with an injured person. I swear sometimes this team makes me wonder…” The man turns around and his grumbling fades from your hearing as you look at his bruised neck. Bruises the same size and shape as your hands. He reaches towards you with something in his hand. Immediately, you kick the object out of his hand and back yourself into the wall, trying to get away. Two strong hands grab your shoulders and you whip your head around. Blue eyes. Steve.

[endof-theline]

Day 21- Tropetember: Office AU

Day 21 of super early Tropetember with Office AU. Bucky hates his job, but he also hates the man next door and nothing can change that. (I diverted from the prompt quite a bit)

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32729431

Bucky hated the guy in the next room over, sure they had never met but that didn’t stop Bucky’s hatred for the man. Bucky’s office was usually way too hot so he had the A/C on so he wouldn’t melt into a puddle, but the guy in the next room shared control of the unit and apparently wanted Bucky to be a puddle because he was always turning it off or turning the heating up a ton.

Next was this guy’s seemingly forever cold, if their supervisors ever heard this guy Bucky was sure that they would send him home because all Bucky heard all day, every day, was the constant coughing through their shared wall.

If that wasn’t enough, between coughs the guy was always humming along to songs that weren’t playing. Sometimes the guy would start to tap on the desk in time with his loud humming and Bucky wanted to scream in frustration that he couldn’t just sit in silence and pray the day would go faster.

Bucky hated being a jerk, but he hated this stupid job more. It was meant to be a temporary office job until he found something better, but now he’s been stuck here for two years without any change or any luck in finding a new place. Natasha, Bucky’s best friend, keeps telling him that he probably wouldn’t hate the guy next door if he didn’t hate his job so much, but she was wrong. Bucky hated his job, but he also hated the man next door and nothing could change that.

“For the love of god, please no one see me” Bucky hissed under his breath as he snuck towards his office door, he had been almost an hour late to his desk from going out to a bar with Natasha and her boyfriend, Sam, last night and getting way too drunk for a Monday night. He was almost at his door when a short, blonde blur zipped out of the door in front of him and ran straight into Bucky’s chest, knocking the coffee out of his hands but luckily not over himself or the blur that was now laying on the ground.

In his defense, he was hungover and his only light at the end of the tunnel was staining the carpet “Watch where you’re going asshole!” Bucky hissed through his teeth as he grabbed the paper cup off the ground and tossed it in the bin beside them, the blur scoffed up at him.

“Well if you weren’t coming in late, I wouldn’t have run into you, dumbass” He snarked before using the wall to help him stand up, Bucky glared and realised quite how far down he had to look to meet the other man’s furious blue eyes.

Now if Bucky had been in the right mind, maybe he would have said sorry or taken in the small man’s appearance and tried to flirt with him instead, but Bucky wasn’t. Bucky was pissed off and the small, blonde man was now his number one enemy.

“Don’t pin this on me, it’s not like I’m the tiny one. Are you blind as well as stupid?” Bucky grumbled before barging past, knowing that he knocked the man sideways and not caring as he almost-slammed the door shut. He flopped into the chair and rubbed his pounding temples, his brain feeling like it was going to explode any second now. If Bucky had taken a second to use said brain he might have realised that his new enemy was the man he had hated already, or maybe he would have seen the hurt expression on his face before he stormed off… but he didn’t and now he had to sit through his Tuesday with a killer hangover, no coffee and a bad attitude.

The next time Bucky saw Natasha and Sam was on that same week’s Friday, back at a bar but a lot more casually than the celebratory drinks they had on Monday since Sam had got a promotion that day when they happened to meet up. This was their usual Friday night drinking, and Natasha had given Bucky the head’s up that Sam was bringing a friend so he had to be on his best behaviour tonight.

Bucky waltzed into their usual joint and spotted Natasha and Sam at a booth immediately, though it took until he was at the booth to see Sam’s friend. Bucky and the man stared at each other for a moment before Bucky sneered at him, turning his comment to Sam however.

“Sam, I can’t believe your friends with this asshole” Bucky snorted as he threw his hand towards the man who slid out the booth, and puffed out his chest as if to intimidate Bucky despite being a foot shorter than him.

“I’m not the one who threw a tantrum over spilt coffee like an overgrown child” The blonde snapped back before Sam tugged him back into the booth and Natasha stepped in front of Bucky to push him away, knowing full well that Bucky wouldn’t lay a finger on her.

“How do you know him and what’s your problem?” Natasha hissed under her breath, her eyes were furious even if an outsider wouldn’t see anything wrong between the pair.

“He works in my office, he ran into me on Tuesday after we had been drinking the night before and was a complete dickhead” Bucky whispered back, his whole body had tensed up for a fight despite knowing that if he punched this guy he might break a bone since he looked so frail “Look I’m not in the mood to pick a fight with a guy who looks like he’d break a rib from a strong breeze, I’m outta here. Have a nice night, Tasha”

Bucky ducked her hand and stormed off to the bar, he had wasted money on getting a cab here so he might as well get a drink before he leaves. He knew Natasha well enough to know she would leave him to sulk if that’s what he wanted to do, and Natasha knew better than to send Sam over to talk to him either so he was safe in the knowledge that he would be left alone to drink as much whiskey as he wanted too.

Bucky wasn’t exactly sure how much he had drunk, but he knew he was still getting towards the wrong kind of tipsy and swiftly heading towards being drunk so when the bartender offered to refill his glass, Bucky shook his head and paid his tab instead. As much as Bucky would have enjoyed spending his evening with his friends, he still liked having time to just drink and not have to worry about talking to other people or trying to field questions about his life and pretend that everything was fine.

It was as he was getting up to leave that a small hand pushed him back into his seat and bright blue eyes glared at him, making Bucky smile lopsidedly as Sam’s friend blocked him from standing up again.

“Look whatever problem you have with me, you shouldn’t take it out on Sam, I don’t care if you hate my guts but Sam doesn’t deserve-” The guy ranted at him before Bucky laughed in his face, he didn’t really mean too but after the number of drinks Bucky had consumed he didn’t really have the filter he usually had a tight grip on.

“I don’t have an issue with Sam, if he has an issue with me then he can tell me himself without his little guard dog. I was celebrating with him on Monday over his promotion, why the fuck d’you think I have a problem with him” Bucky glared back but he was sure it didn’t look as angry as the man in front of him glare did, Bucky kept glaring for a moment before he spotted Natasha’s bright red hair and found his eyes following her instead.

“Do you like Natasha? Is that what it is?” The man accused him and Bucky just laughed in his face again as he shook his head with a grin.

“I’m gay, if anything you’re my type!” Bucky snorted before squeaking as he suddenly had a lap of angry blonde kissing him passionately, the blonde was tugging at Bucky’s hair to try and pull him deeper into the kiss which definitely worked as Bucky groaned and grabbed Steve’s hips.

“I knew there had to be a reason you’re an ass” The man panted against his lips once they pulled apart, his blue eyes burning into Bucky’s “You were going to be too perfect if you were nice”

“I can be nice if you take me home” Bucky purred in his ear, making the pale man in his lap go scarlett even as he shook his head and carefully slid back out of Bucky’s tight grasp.

“Find me at work on Monday, if you still want to be nice then tell me in the office” He said confidently before leaving Bucky alone and wanting, he had sobered up in seconds of that powerful kiss and immediately knew his mission come Monday morning.

On that Monday morning, Bucky made sure he was on time, made sure he had cleaned up and put in effort to look good. He had managed to get a name from Natasha so he now knew that man's name was Steve Rogers and Bucky couldn't help thinking how good that name rolling off his tongue was.

He wandered down the hall to his office, knowing Steve must work in one nearby due to the incident last week. Once Bucky realised exactly what office Steve was sat in, he paused and stared at the man who had a blanket over his lap and Bucky could spot an inhaler on his desk as well which explained two things about their shared wall.

Knowing what he does now, Bucky shook his head and knocked on the office door with a grin on his face. He hung back so Steve had to open the door and poke his head out to actually see Bucky, and Bucky was glad he did as he saw the way Steve's eyes lit up once he spotted him.

"Hi, I wasn't sure you'd come find me" Steve smiled slightly and when Bucky shifted to be further into Steve's space with a grin, the blonde blushed deeply.

"Haven't been able to get you outta my head, be a real idiot not to find you" Bucky drawled and saw the way Steve's ears went pink as he looked up to Bucky with a smile on his face.

"Well you are a dumbass" Steve teased before grabbing Bucky's tie and tugging him into his office, barely managing to shut the door behind them before he pulled Bucky down by his tie and kissed him hard "I wanna be in your head all day"

"With a kiss like that, you're gonna be in my head forever" Bucky groaned as he held Steve's hips, feeling quite how tiny Steve was compared to him and finding out that he loved it.

"Well then, waiting until the end of the day will get you used to it" Steve smirked before kissing Bucky again and sitting down at his desk while Bucky leant against his wall and panted for a moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of Steve's head before leaving and sitting down in his own office.

It wasn't long before Bucky started to hear Steve humming away happily, and for once in the two years he had worked next to Steve he smiled at the noise, knowing that he had made him that happy and knowing that he was going to keep being the reason Steve was this happy for as long as the feisty man allowed him.