#thank you for this request i had an excellent time drawing her

[noumios]

would love a Katie Pearlhead doodle 👉👈

just bc i haven't started the newest season yet doesn't mean i can't simp

pls tell me what to draw

[moonstruckme]

Hello! First I wanted to tell you how much I love your work, I think I almost read them all ! Second, I wanted to request, if that’s ok, a poly!marauders or any marauder with a reader insecure about her small chest. I thank you for the time you’ll take reading my request, and hope you’ll continue writing !

Thank you lovely :)

cw: smut mdni, reader has insecurities around breast size and makes a joke about looking like a boy

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 797 words

The sky outside is a pale gray, and droplets of rain cling dearly to leaves and flower petals. You’ve left the bedroom window open, letting in the cool breeze that smells of green and freshness. It licks over your skin like a fine mist, sweet and earthy. 

But you like Remus’ licks better. 

His mouth is warm on your breast, both of your books turned over and forgotten at the end of the bed. You have one hand burrowed in his hair, extra fluffy from the damp air, while your other runs up and down his back, beseeching. Remus kisses and sucks at you so gently you don’t even suspect the hickey he’s leaving behind until he moves to a different spot and you see the mark. You don’t let him get very far on his next project. 

“Rem,” you plead, giving his hair another little tug. 

He chuckles but complies, stretching up for a syrupy, lingering kiss. You sigh into his mouth. He devours it happily, slipping a hand around to the small of your back and starting to press you downwards onto the pillows. But that’s a position you haven’t taken for a reason, and you push back, covering your resistance with the guise of kissing Remus harder, forcing you both upright. 

Remus’ mouth curves against yours. He goes along with you, nipping playfully at your lip and gripping you tighter, rougher. 

But it’s not long before he tries again, urging you horizontal so he can get on top of you properly. This time, when you don’t go, he takes notice. 

“Something wrong?” he asks casually, still tending to the corner of your mouth with soft, sweet kisses.

You hum a denial and go for the distraction, clutching at the muscles of his back and trying to maneuver yourself into his lap. Not particularly easy, since he’s currently in your lap, his body spread over you with his legs on either side of your hips. 

Remus sets a hand on your shoulder. A restraint. “Sure you don’t want to tell me?” he asks softly. “I can tell something’s bothering you.” 

Your lips still on his. For a few moments, the only sounds are bird calls and the tinkling of raindrops falling from trees like silver coins. Remus doesn’t pull away. He waits for you. 

“I don’t really want to lie down like this,” you admit. 

“That’s fine.” Remus’ hand slopes down your shoulder, thumb beginning to draw circles into your arm. He’s always had a sense for when you might need soothing. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” You laugh at yourself, a light little puff of air that sounds as forced as it feels. “I’m being vain.” 

His eyebrow twitches upward. “How’s that?”

It’s an effort not to look down at your chest. “I’m just not really feeling my boobs lately,” you say simply, trying once more for insouciance. “I don’t even want to think about how they’d look concaving back into me, so I’d rather avoid having to see it.” 

Remus grins, a small, crooked thing that lets you know he’s playing along with your levity even if he doesn’t buy into it. “They do not concave,” he sneers teasingly. “And you don’t have to be the one feeling them, dovey. I’ve been feeling them for about a half hour now, and I’d say they feel excellent.” 

“Ha ha.” You direct your smile just over his shoulder. 

Remus hums and plants a hand in the middle of your chest. “Now, that didn’t sound very sincere,” he says, pushing downward. 

There’s a bit more force to the motion this time, and you can’t resist for long. You go down giggling, even as unease twists peskily in your gut. 

“See?” Remus bends over you, laying a kiss on your cheek before creeping downwards. “Still lovely.” 

“I’ve become a young boy,” you lament jokingly, but squeak when Remus nips admonishingly at your neck. 

“They’re perfect,” he says, mouth marking a trail down into the valley of your chest. He presses his lips to the inside of one breast. Lets them linger there, emanating a tenderness you can feel seeping into your core. When he lifts them, it’s with a soft suctioning sound. “Perfect.” 

“Remus,” you whisper. 

His eyes flick up to yours, eyelashes nearly brushing his eyebrows from the angle. “Yes?” 

“You…you don’t have to.” 

He looks back down, tsking. He sets another kiss on the same breast, moving slowly closer to the stiff peak of your nipple. “Still doesn’t believe me,” he mutters as if to himself. Another press of his lips, this one almost directly on the bud. 

Remus sighs, and goosebumps skitter over your skin. You shiver.

“I think you may have to get comfortable, darling. I’m going to be busy here for a while.”

[totalswag]

Drew Starkey and Actress Reader are together for a while now, they're in a place, you know celebrities meet at a party or parade or exhibition something like that. That's when they meet the Reader's ex boyfriend, they get along well, they've moved on, on good terms but Drew seems a little jealous, i see him asking little questions, but in reality he has nothing to fear since he trusts her a lot, he knows she loves him so much back. Can you do this please ?

unexpected encounter — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for the lovely request! sorry this took awhile to be posted. life has been very busy. i hope this is what you were looking for lovie.

summary drew meeting your ex for the first time and he seems to be jealous.

warnings jealous drew thats it

Golden Globes after-party is tonight.

Since you announced your relationship to the world, this will be your second public appearance together. Drew was dressed in an all-black suit to compliment her basic black dress with a bit of shine to draw attention. You like to match your outfits here and there.

This was also an excellent opportunity for Drew to meet new people in the film industry as well as some of his favorite actors and actresses. When he met some of his favorite people, it warmed your heart to see him so happy and giggly.

As usual, there was a large crowd at the after party. You were able to communicate with other actors and actresses. Your father is a well-known actor, and seeing some of his former co-stars is always pleasant.

In the middle of a conversation with Margot Robbie talking about her recent film, Barbie, you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

Margot excused herself, saying, "I'll see you later." She tells you, "Love you, sweet girl," before pulling away from the hug.

She’s amazing.

"Oh, hello, Y/N. It's been a while; how are you?" Your ex-boyfriend, Adam, came into view, astonished to find you there, but smiled at the end.

“Yes, it has been a while and I’ve been great, you?” You reply with a normal tone. “This is my boyfriend Drew, he’s also in the film industry” wrapping your arm around his, looking up at him with a soft gaze.

No matter how you ended things with Adam, you still had love for him at the end of the day.

You can feel the stress increasing in Drew’s body. He only becomes like this when he detects a threat and he wants to protect you at all cost. You’ve stated to him in the very beginning of your relationship you were in a two year relationship with Adam, also in the film industry. You ended on good terms and moved on from each other.

You have no feelings for Adam.

The only thing on your mind was why your partner was acting like this. A million thoughts race through your mind as you try to figure out why.

You can understand why he is suddenly acting this way. You would have the same reaction if you met Drew's ex for the first time. He knows you just have eyes for him.

"Nice to meet you, Drew," he adds confidently, extending his hand.

"Adam," he said, firmly shaking his hand. "You play Rafe Cameron on the Outer Banks, correct? "My cousin loves you," he says with a chuckle.

Drew was taken back by the chuckle from Adams mouth, “Yeah I play him in the show and I appreciate it, you can tell them that I said thank you” his response was calm.

The two begin conversing, getting to know one other. You continue to stand beside the two grown men, even joining in on the conversation. Drew's questions or comments drew your attention.

Adam nods, turning his body towards you, “Congrats on your movie by the way, you did amazing,” talking about your newest movie you starred in with Sydnee Sweeny.

“Thank you Adam, filming that movie was a hassle but a lot of fun all together” you kept your arms around Drew’s arm the whole time.

Eventually, you realized it was time to leave Adam and finish your night with Drew. The night has just begun, and there is food calling your name.

"It was nice to see you, but it appears that we should get going; I hope you have a good rest of your night, Adam," Drew said, indicating between Drew and you. 

"Of course, yes, enjoy the rest of your night" Adam claps his hands together before shaking Drew's hand and hugging you.

By the end of the night, Drew and you are sitting down at the table with a few of your friends while music plays from the band on stage.

Drew and you were facing each other, your hand fiddling with his gold chain while he questioned you about Adam.

"Baby, you understand how much I love you and value our relationship. I'm sorry if I was acting like a dosh," Drew rambles on, but you cut him off by kissing him to silence him.

"You weren't acting like a dosh; you were professional the entire time, and I understand why you were the way you were," you said, placing your palm on top of his and softly pressing your thumb on his hand.

"I actually love you a lot more," he says, smiling.

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[sergeantbuckybarnes]

good enough // george weasley

Summary: A Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor don't go together. Perhaps that's why George didn't ask you to the Yule Ball. Perhaps he prefers a Hufflepuff, which is why he asked Susan Bones instead of you.

Pairing: George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: two idiots in love, a little angst with a happy ending

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @allyjoe755​ for proofreading this!

This was a request by anon. Hope you like it!

main masterlist

“Has he already asked you?” Your friend inquired.

You simply shook your head, attempting to hide your disappointment, but you knew you couldn't fool Cho; she knew you better than anyone else.

Truth is, you had been waiting for your best friend and long-time crush George Weasley to ask you to the Yule Ball, and you had even subtly hinted to him that you didn't have a date, but the ginger boy didn't seem to pick up on your signals.

Roger Davies was the first one who asked you to be his date, and even though he was a nice fellow Ravenclaw, you didn't want to rush in and say yes because you were hoping George would ask.

A few days later, Adrian Pucey approached you as you were leaving your potions class with Cho and Luna, both girls secretly squealing at the cute Slytherin. Despite the fact that Adrian was labeled as a nice guy, considering his house, you turned him down, again hoping for the ginger boy to ask you.

As the weeks passed and the ball got closer, you began to lose hope that George would ask you. You knew Fred was going with Angelina– you were there in the Great Hall when the older twin asked her– and you also knew Lee had asked Alicia Spinet. So what about George? Did he have a date that he didn't tell you about? Why hadn’t he asked you to go with him? It’s not like you expected him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You would even accept going with him as friends. You would take anything he would offer you. But, sadly, he was radio silent about the Yule Ball, and you weren't confident enough to ask him yourself, as Luna suggested, preferring to go alone rather than risk rejection.

And that’s how you ended up, sitting in a chair between Harry and Ron, who were both having an awful night as well, because neither of them were with the person they wanted to be with. You seemed to fit right in.

But your night was made even worse when your gaze was drawn to the redhead you'd grown to love as more than a friend, and your heart clenched inside your chest. You could feel your eyes welling up as he twirled Susan Bones and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer to his chest.

He had, of course, invited a Hufflepuff to the dance. A Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff made an excellent match. But a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw together? That sounded like a story from one of those Muggle fairy tales Hermione told you about. But you refused to cry, especially when you saw George approaching you, thankfully alone.

“Hey, snookums,” he greeted you, using the term of endearment he gave you when you were 11. You shared a compartment with him and Fred on your first ride to Hogwarts. It always warmed your heart that the pet name was exclusively yours, but now you wondered if he also used it with Susan.

You forced a smile.

“Hey, you.” You tried to sound as even as possible, not letting on that you were about to cry before he approached you. “You having fun?”

He just smiled and nodded before looking to the sides as if looking for someone, “Where’s your date?”

Susan appeared from behind him and linked her arm with his before you could even respond to his question. “Come on, Georgie. I love this song.” And he was dragged away from you.

“This is the worst night of my life,” Ron muttered.

And you had to agree.

You avoided George at all costs after that disastrous night; you couldn't just hang out and listen to him brag about how much fun he had with Susan, and a part of you resented him a little for it.

Stopping hanging out with George meant stopping hanging out with Fred and Lee as well, and there was nothing you could do about it, even if you felt bad about making them pay the consequences of George's stupidity. The twins were always joined by the hip with Lee at their side.

You had no idea if George had noticed your absence from his life, or if he even cared. What you knew was that he made no attempt to approach you.

But George had noticed it. How could he not? You used to spend most of your free time with him, either in the Gryffindor common room or in the library; he would always drop by when you were studying and sit there for hours just watching you, teasing you now and then, calling you a bookworm and a smartypants. Sometimes you even helped him and Fred with some pranks.

Now, when you saw him in the corridors, you turned the other way, avoiding him like the plague. It hurt him. It hurt him even more not knowing what he had done to upset you.

Because, how could he even fix it if he didn’t know what he did wrong?

So he sought advice from his brother and best friend.

“You’re joking, right?” Fred stated. He was aware that his brother could be stupid, but not that stupid.

But George's helpless expression revealed nothing but seriousness.  

“You screwed up, mate,” Lee chimed in.

His friend's response confused him even more. The Quidditch Commentator simply rolled his eyes at his pal's folly. “She fancies you.”

“What? No, she doesn’t.”

Were his friends pulling his leg? You couldn't possibly feel that way about him. It sounded too good to be true. For Godrick’s sake, you were a Ravenclaw! You were incredibly intelligent, witty, kind, and beautiful...

“You must be the only jerk who hasn't figured it out yet,” His twin's voice jolted him out of his reverie.

“She's upset because you brought another girl to the Ball,” Lee explained. “That's a git move on your part, if you ask me.”

“She also went with someone else!”

“No, she didn’t.” George regarded his brother as if he had grown a second head. “A couple of guys asked her but she turned them down.”

“Because she was expecting you to ask her.”

“Then why didn't she tell me?” George approached you at the Ball and inquired about your date, and you appeared to be in good spirits.

Fred sighed and rolled his eyes. “Do we have to explain everything to you? She was most likely embarrassed! She must think you don’t feel the same way.”

“But I do! I do like her… She’s — How could I not like her?”

“You haven’t been the best at showing it.”

George sulked deeper in the lovearm seat, a hand running through his dishevelled, fiery hair. “How am I gonna fix this?”

“Don’t worry, Georgie, that's what you have us for.”

The last thing you expected from your friends was to drag you out of bed at midnight and lead you all the way through the castle to the Quidditch pitch. You wondered how they got into the Ravenclaw common room and the girls' dormitories in the first place, but didn't bother asking them because you knew they weren't going to give you the answer you were looking for.

“I swear to Merlin, if Filch catches us, I'll hex you.”

Fred and Lee didn't seem phased by your threat, and once you arrived at your destination, they left you alone, ignoring your question about where they were going.

“You better not try to pull a prank on me!” You screeched to no one in particular; you were standing alone, but you knew your friends were hiding somewhere, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

A deafening bang reached your ears, followed by an impressive display of fireworks that made your jaw drop. The sight of them exploding in the night sky was unforgettable. As the colors and light spelled out ‘Do you want to be my girlfriend?’, it created a magical atmosphere.

You stared at the sky with wide-open eyes that you couldn’t shut. The display of colors and sparks in the sky didn’t seem to fade, so you guessed they were enchanted. You were so taken aback by what you were seeing that you didn't notice a lanky, tall ginger standing beside you until you heard him speak. “Do you like it?”

You turned to face him, a little startled. “George! You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

When you didn't say anything, the silence between the two of you became uncomfortable, and George began to feel anxious. A wave of thoughts filled his mind, the majority of which were that his brother and Lee had duped him and that you didn't actually fancy him as he had been told, and you just didn't know how to turn him down. Despite this, the younger twin worked hard to push those thoughts away and regain his usual confidence.

“What’s all of this about, George?”

“What do you think this is about?” He pointed out at the sky, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“What about Susan?”

“I don’t like Susan.”

“You took her to the ball.” You looked at the ground, feeling small and unable to hold his gaze.

“I know. It was a blunder on my part,” he apologized, “but I couldn't ask you and risk ruining our friendship. I didn’t know how you felt until Fred and Lee pointed it out to me, and I felt like a total git for hurting you.”

“You really like me?” You inquired, still unsure. George's words were everything you'd hoped to hear for years, but they were too good to be true.

“Love, I have been hooked on you since the first time I saw you.”

A small smile started breaking out on your face. “You are really a git.”

George reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek in one hand and resting the other on your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all of this, you know?” You said, referring to the fireworks show. “You could have asked me like a normal person.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” As he got closer, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and butterflies in your stomach. “Besides, this is more my style. You should know that by now.”

George’s eyes stared into yours. His gaze exuded love and adoration. Then it happened. He closed the small gap that was keeping you apart. He kissed you. Your lips met like the north and south poles of a magnet. Kissing George was better than you could have imagined. You could feel the hollowness that had been left inside your body filled with passion. It felt like you were lost in a dream from which you didn't want to awaken. You held tightly onto him as if you were both merging into one.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” he mumbled against your lips as you parted to catch your breath.

“Wasn’t that a good answer?” Due to the proximity, your lips brushed his when you spoke. And you had to hold yourself from kissing him again, missing the warmth and softness of his lips.

“I’d prefer a verbal confirmation,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, but you gave him what he wanted.

“Yes.”

[kankuroplease]

Congratulations!! I’m very proud of your journey as an artist 🤍 now for my request- suigetsu x oc megumi? I think they’d like each. also she should only be a few years older than him if my math is mathing.. how about suigetsu flirting with her in a hot spring or smthn like that?? They’re Both beautiful and my brain wants to see them in the same drawing lol

You had excellent timing and thank you sm 🥹☺️

Megumi is a few years older, but she can also be a bit immature in a fun way such as cannon balling into water when she knows she has a function to attend so I think she and Suigetsu could get along~

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello hello! If I may, I'd like to request for fuegoleon fic

Where his wife s/o is busy with work or something so she leaves their 2 year old daughter with Fuego and he takes her to his office? Cue the crimson lion kings going crazy over their captains adorable little baby girl and they all sorta get distracted throughout the day taking care of the little bundle. But eventually she gets really fussy and sad and Fue understands it's because she misses her mom and he kisses her forehead and says he misses her too

S/o comes back home to fue and baby waiting for her and it's just a huge fluff fest basically

I love your writing so much❤️❤️❤️❤️

LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES TO YOU <3

Hello hello!!

AAAAAAA this is so sweeeet!!! I was more than happy to write this one! I hope it makes you smile!!! AND HUGS AND KISSES RIGHT BACK TO YOU <3 and thank you!!! I might or might not be happy sobbing

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Nothing but family fluff fluff fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k

Sunlight filtered through the glass of the window and cascaded onto the floor of Fuegoleon’s office. The crimson carpet was practically illuminated by the gentle soft glow, against which the steam rising from Fuegoleon’s tea cup on the table could be seen.

But he wasn’t looking at the carpet, or the steam rising from the tea. He was looking at his daughter playing on the carpet. Her hair, which reminded him of his own, but was much more vibrant, glimmered in the light of the sun. And her eyes, which also reminded him of his own, sparkled full of joy and hope. But she did have a lot of your features. Which was something he’d muse while tapping the tip of his daughter’s nose at times, while telling her that she has a cute nose. Just like her mother.

She was drawing something, while occasionally glancing at, very intently, at her lion plushie.

Another masterpiece in the works, he smiled to himself, radiating nothing but pride and love he held for his daughter.

“Father watch!” She called out while stumbling onto her feet and picking up the paper.

“Hm?” He lifted his head while putting down his pen, as she stumbled over with a wide grin on her face.

“Us!” She said while showing him a picture with 4 blobs. “Mother,” she pointed to a shape on the right, “father” she pointed to a shape on the left, “me” she pointed to a shape in the middle, “Lele” she pointed to a shape below the three other ones, because she had wanted to include her lion plushie.

“Excellent work,” he patted her head. “Father is very proud,” he told her, which made her smile even wider.

There was a knock at the door, and Randal appeared from behind it.

“I’m sorry to disturber Sir, but I … thought the little lady might want something to drink,” he said while crouching down and holding a few juice boxes in hand.

“Thank you,” Fuegoleon nodded as the daughter was already happily making her way through the first juice box.

“Watch!” She showed Randal her drawing.

“Magnificent job my lady,” he smiled while getting up.

“Mhm!” She nodded her head vigorously. “Show mother?” She asked while looking back to Fuegoleon, as Randal lingered in the doorway.

“Mother is busy dear,” he told her with an apologetic shake of his head.

“When?” She asked with a frown.

“In a few hours,” he replied.

But all it did was make her teary eyed.

“But mom now!” She cried as Fue got up from his chair and Randal took a step further into the hallway.

Fuegoleon nodded to Randal who took it as a cue to leave, and closed the door, while Fue picked up his daughter into his arms.

“I understand dear,” he spoke with soft syllables while cradling her in his arms. “I miss her too,” he admitted while placing a kiss onto her forehead. “And she surely misses us too,” he told her.

---

Evening had started to set as you made your way back to your bedroom, or living quarters as it could be better described, since there were multiple rooms adjoined. And though you were tired from the long day, you couldn’t wait to see your husband and daughter again.

A  smile crept onto your lips as you thought about it, about how you’d see them soon again, and that smile only widened as you opened the door, entering the bedroom.

“Mother!” You heard as soon as you opened the door, having barely had time to enter.

“Well hello darling,” you said while pushing the door closed behind you and crouching down with open arms to welcome you daughter, who was already stumbling to you as fast as her little legs could carry.

“Miss you!” She said to you while clinging onto you.

“I missed you too,” you smiled while picking her up.

“Welcome back,” Fue greeted while making his way to you as well.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him. “I hope the knights weren’t too inconvenienced by you having her today.”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head as amusement was painted over his lips. “In fact, she was quite the star of the day,” he said while wrapping his arm around your waist, and pressing a kiss onto your lips.

“Hmm,” you hummed into the kiss, feeling loved and cared for. “That’s good,” you continued while looking adoringly at your husband, and who looked equally, if not more, adoringly to you.

“We missed you,” he still said while glancing to your daughter who was now pressed against your chest in your arms, and clutched to you with closed eyes.

“Looks like she’s tired,” you mused with a hushed voice.

“She had a rough day,” he chuckled under his breath.

“By missing me?” You chuckled back with a glance to him.

“It is far more taxing than you give her credit for,” he mused with a twinkle in the corner of his eye.

“I see,” you giggled. “But she should get her ready for bed,” you told him, to which he agreed. It really had been a long day for all of you. But now you were together, as a family, as it should be.

[thesecretsoftheuniverse]

Could u do jealous neteyam headcannons or a fic pls? I love all ur works and ur writing style!

clouded perception !

– pairing neteyam x gn!reader | wc 2.6k | warnings a lot of jealousy, a lot of angst i guess (i had way too much fun with this oops) but also some fluff | what's inside neteyam has to learn how to deal with something he has never felt before as he watches you train with a close friend – authors note my first request! how exciting! i'm sorry it took so long. i hope i did your wishes justice anonie and thank you for the kind words! also feedback is of course always appreciated (and i'm the worst at naming fics haha) :)

neteyam excelled in anything you could possibly think of, especially in activities related to hunting, whether it was tracking, archery or flying. he was a natural in everything he persued. so obviously he felt hurt when you decided so ask another one of the skilled young na’vi to help you practice your shooting skills as you had always had a hard time keeping up with the others when it came to using your bow and arrow. you were training to become a healer, which put different qualities to a test. ever since you had been romantically involved with neteyam mo’at startet to take you under her wing to make sure you grew into your role of a possible future tsahík. but knowing every detail about plants and their healing capabilities and getting taught how to nurse and how to form a close bond with ewya didn’t spare you from basic training in archery to be able to defend yourself and your people if it ever came to a worst case scenario. this was the reason why you started to spend more time than usual with one of your closest childhood friends – ‘anoa. it didn’t pass anyone that he was one of the most promising young warriors of the clan, frequently being compared to neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan, the golden boy and child progidy of the clan. but neteyam had been busy, now more than ever. if he wasn’t with the hunting party, he was planning with his dad for an upcoming raid, assisting him where- and whenever he could. because of that the time you and neteyam shared was scarce and most definitely not used to get additional lessons in archery. that was why you confided in your best friend who gladly accepted your request.

one morning you and ‘anoa were standing on the edge of a clearing, facing makeshift targets. it was still early, the first rays of sunshine barely touching the tips of the trees and morning dew still covering the grass. your back was resting against ‘anoa’s bare chest as you were repeating the basics while drawing your bow, him correcting your position again and again, “you need more core strength. mind your abdominal muscles.” he turned over, pressing the palm of his hand against your stomach, which was slowly rising and falling from your deep breaths, “more, more.” as you were trying your best to tense your muscles just like ‘anoa instructed you pulled funny faces to make your training seem extra exhausting and get a smile out of your friend. “skxawng,” ‘anoa chuckled, slightly tapping the side of your head, but immediately returning to a more serious demeanour, “now just position your elbow a little bit higher and put your hand next to your cheek. close your eyes and feel your breath tingling your skin. sense the tension flooding your body and how it spreads to your arms and legs as you pull the string of your bow,” he said with a calm voice while correcting the placement of your left hand. “good. now that we’ve freshened up that bit try and give it a shot.” you focused on your target, feeling the hot breath tickling the skin of your fingers, mentally checking your position one last time. your mind shut down completely as you were focusing on what was in front of you before you let go of the arrow, seeing it flying into the direction of your target and hitting its center. you heard the impact as the arrowhead drilled itself into the trunk of the tree. “hey, you’re a natural! i don’t even know why we’ve been practicing all morning”, 'anoa cheered with a smile, giving you a side-hug. unbeknownst to you you had been watched. neteyam noticed how you had been up too early for you linking and left the village. surprised by your secretive behaviour and also wondering what you were up to was why he decided to follow you, which led to him hiding in the thicket of the forest, closely observing your little meet up. he knew that he could trust you and that you would never go behind is back. he also knew ‘anoa and what he meant to you, that you had been growing up together and that both of you were very close, almost like siblings as you yourself never had one. this was rather unnatural to na’vi, who tended to come in big families. but due to that you and ‘anoa were basically a package deal as over time he became something like a substitute sibling to you. and neteyam also knew that ‘anoa was already having a partner, a lovely girl. neteyam hadn’t been introduced to her yet, but he knew that she was a talented weaver and that she occasionally helped out his mother if there was something needed last minute while preparing for special occasions. but still, neteyam couldn’t help but let jealousy cloud his thinking, especially when he should’ve been the one standing there with you, with your back pressed against his body, him adjusting your movements and watching you beaming with pride after successfully making your shot. jealousy – something he had never felt before. something he never had to feel, as every male na’vi knew who you belonged to and that the son of the olo’eyktan is someone not to be messed with . so they always kept their distance. neteyam contemplated whether he should interrupt your training session, but settled on heading back to the village, still lost in his thoughts and having a frown on his face, angrily pushing aside every branch crossing his way as he was desperately trying to get rid of the irrational feeling sitting in his guts, which was slowly spreading through his body and engulfing his mind.

something was off. you could almost smell it in the air. this undetectable feeling was following you around all day long, haunting you at work while you were taking care of the wounded, ill and elderly. it was eating away at the food as you were sitting on the floor sharing dinner with your lover’s family and it followed you into your sleep. you couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but something was different. at first it didn’t really catch your attention as you thought this was just a phase. the day of the raid, which had been planned for weeks, was coming closer. so not only was every clan member busy with preparations as everyone who could in some way contribute was imposed with tasks depending on what their role and function within the clan was, but everyone was mostly stressed and worried. over time dinners started to become quieter as the mood shifted. even tuk, who tended to talk your ears off, wasn’t as chatty as usual. in the morning you suddenly were left without a loving peck on your temple, in the evening you weren’t greeted with a welcoming hug, being asked about your day. and this was going on for days. kiri was the first one to notice, to notice how neteyam was the one who grew more distant. more distant of you. how the first thing asking about after coming back from a hunt wasn’t you and your well-being or how he started to barely mention you anymore, requiting questions about you asked in his presence with a grunt. he started to become closed off and stopped talking about you, the light of his life. someone he normally didn’t shut up about. really, he stopped talking to anyone as time went by and jealousy started to consume him, wondering about why you felt the need of turning away from him, self-doubts starting to creep in. neteyam was a people pleaser, always trying his best for everyone around him. not meeting expectations was definitely something he was afraid of. he was afraid, if he had given you too little and if that was why you were turning to someone else, to someone better than him. the mighty warrior was afraid of being inferior. a fear he had been carrying with him ever since he had been able to think, something that had always been sitting in the back of his mind and now his worst nightmare seemingly became reality. losing his love, the one he was destined to be with, to someone else. to an outsider watching this probably seemed like an overreaction, like something blown completely out of proportion. you had been enamoured by neteyam ever since you were children. even a blind one was able to see it. so of course not a single soul would have possibly doubted your connection and your relationship, but neteyam was seeing red as he was confronted with something he was afraid of the most – losing a loved one, which changed his perception severely.

now that he became hyper-aware of the relationship of you and ‘anoa neteyam didn’t fail to miss every tiny interaction between you and your friend. he noticed ‘anoa’s subtle touches and how he put his hand on your lower back to bring you comfort. and neteyam saw the little wrinkles under your eyes, which always started to show whenever someone made you laugh so hard you had to hold your stomach and throw your head back. he noticed more than ever how ‘anoa made you laugh in that specific way, in a way only neteyam should have made you laugh. these little things hadn’t been anything new, but they started to bother him. it started to bother him that he wasn’t the only one in your life, even though this was something that had been off the table since the very beginning of your relationship as this was never going to happen anyway. he knew how much space ‘anoa took up in your life. but nonetheless you had never given your boyfriend any reason to doubt you or your love for him.

when neteyam started to brush off your absent-minded touches the both of you had been sharing ever since you started going out it finally dawned on you. it wasn’t the raid that occupied your lover’s mind, it had been you. but not in a good way. all of a sudden so many things made sense. how neteyam had been deliberately avoiding you all this time. how neytiri started to watch you and her oldest son with a worried look on her face, knowing that there was nothing in the world she could do make the situation any better as she knew she had to let you figure this out yourselves. and how kiri’s behaviour towards her brother became almost unbearable after she finally put two and two together. so you decided to take neteyam aside in an unwatched moment and make him listen to you. you didn’t know yet how to do that, but your plan had been set.

as you were on a break from your duties and sitting outside of one of the healer’s tents, thinking about how you could approach the issue, which had been on your mind for several days at that point you spotted neteyam. he was just about to leave for the next war council, accompanying his father who was discussing the next steps with other great warriors of the clan. you knew there probably would have come a better moment than this to stop him from whatever he was doing in order to talk. but you had to get this sorted, especially when anything could happen to neteyam during the planned raid. so you pulled yourself together, got up and headed into the same direction as him, following him into the woods. after a few minutes of just walking neteyam finally made a halt. you noticed the tips of his ears perking up, which gave away that he had heard you and that he knew who had been tracing his every step. neteyam inhaled deeply before slightly turning his head and acknowledging your presence, “y/n, I know you’re here with me.” you hesitated to react and give away your hiding spot. “you can come out. i know you’ve been following me ever since i left the village. i noticed your step pattern.” shit, you thought. of course he did. you slowly emerged from behind the plants you were hiding, not caring about the leaves rustling and the branches cracking under your feet. “yeah, it’s me”, you confirmed. you hesitantly approached him from behind, trying to not get too close as you didn’t want to intrude his space. neteyam lowered his head, still having his back turned to you, as you confessed, “i wanted to talk.” “well, but I don’t want to talk”, he requited. even though he was so quiet he was almost whispering, which was why you could barely hear him, you noticed how he sounded hurt, disappointment tinting his voice. “my love, you’ve been avoiding me for days know. i don’t know what i did wrong or how and why i hurt you. so could you please talk to me so that we can resolve this together?”, you asked gently, trying to stay diplomatic, even though anger was boiling within you due to his unfair treatment of you. “you truly don’t know what’s going on, do you?”, he snorted, but shortly after admitted, “to be fair i don’t even know what got into me myself.” “no, doofus! of course i don’t know what’s going. you didn’t say a word, just blatantly decided to avoid me.”

you finally dared to come closer, now standing directly behind neteyam’s back, putting on of your hands on his shoulder and slowly turning him around. “talk to me”, you encouraged him. neteyam sighed, putting his forehead against yours and taking your hands into his, stroking his thumbs along your knuckles. “it’s him. i know it’s irrational as he has always been here and he always will. nothing is ever going to change anything about that.” it took you a second before you understood who or what your boyfriend was talking about – ‘anoa. the look in your eyes became soft. “oh, yawne”, you whispered, putting one of your hands on his neck, playing with his hairline, and cupping his cheek with the other one, “i love you. so much. nothing is ever going to change about that,” you reassured with a hoarse voice. never in your wildest dreams would you leave neteyam, your fiercest protector and greatest confident. “i needed some more training, okay? and i knew you were busy. there is so little time we have to spend together and i value it too greatly to just waste it on some stupid bow and a stick, alright? that’s why i approached ‘anoa as i knew he would be understanding and gladly help me out.” you noticed how tears dared to escape your boyfriend’s eyes, a state he was seldomly seen in, while he was repeatedly nodding his head, "i guess i just felt useless." your heart broke into pieces as you listened to his words. “you will never be useless. not to this clan and especially not to me. your pain is my pain. so please cheer up, okay? i can’t stand seeing you in all this agony,” you said with the hint of a smile on your face, now tearing up yourself, while gently shaking him to try and cheer him up. neteyam sighed in reliefe, coming to realization that you weren’t going anywhere but sticking right to his side.

© thesecretsoftheuniverse 2023 | all rights reserved. do not repost, republish, steal, translate, modify or claim my work as your own.

[tcwmatchmakingau]

One Call Away - Pt. 1

Summary: Thorn wants Fox to find love, and he’s counting on Daria to make it happen. An unstoppable force is about to meet an immovable object.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Daria Trace (OC)

Rating: G (later chapters will get spicy 👀)

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2886

Written to: The Archer by Taylor Swift

Massive shoutout to @deejadabbles not only for taking the first/last look but also encouraging me so much. Wouldn’t have made it without her 🥰

Matchmaking for the clones was nothing like matchmaking for the smarmy elites of Coruscant. The most noticeable difference was the way they showed their gratitude after a successful match. Daria had received expensive bottles of whiskey, opera tickets and even furs from clients. The gifts were accompanied by generic messages clearly written by their aides, and while Daria wouldn’t say no to good whiskey or a fun night at the theatre, the gifts were perfunctory in nature.

The clones, however, showed their appreciation with their hearts. Daria had received flowers clearly stolen from someone’s greenhouse that perfectly matched her lavender hair, gift cards for iced coffee, all manner of fidgets to keep her occupied, and her favorite, new photos of them with their new partners.

Commander Thorn in particular was immensely grateful for his new girlfriend, but when he’d come by bearing a gift he’d also had a request.

“I’m always happy to see you Thorn, but I’m curious as to why you have a knife in my office,” Daria said, eyeing the blade Thorn was twirling around.

“You like to keep your hands busy, right? So you can learn to spin this, and eventually how to throw it,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “Your hands will never be bored again.”

“A bold claim,” she said, following the knife’s movements. There was something alluring about such a dangerous plaything in motion, and she found her fingers twitching in anticipation. “Ok, I’ll try it.”

“That’s my girl!” He brought the knife to an abrupt stop offering it to her handle first.

Daria took the knife and began slowly moving it through her fingers. Thorn watched her work out the best way, as her hand was much smaller than his, and bare. After one minute, the knife was flipping through her fingers quickly and smoothly.

“Kriff, this is really fun,” she confessed quietly. She couldn’t play with it around other people, unless she was hoping to intimidate them, but when she was alone it would definitely be in heavy rotation amongst her other toys. “Thank you, Thorn.”

“You’re welcome, and now for the part where I beg for assistance.”

Daria stopped the knife, placing it on her desk with a decisive click.

“She does not wish to receive heart-shaped jewelry, so go back to the drawing board on that one,” Daria said after a moment of scrutiny.

“Wha-, how did you-?” Thorn stammered. Daria’s uncanny ability to snatch up threads of thought still left him speechless every time. But he was a man on a mission, and recovered quickly. “Consider the jewelry scrapped. I need to bring someone to you. He needs your help.”

Daria’s dark brown eyes lit up instantly. A smile played around her full lips, as she grabbed her datapad.

“You’ve got my attention,” she said with a raised brow.

“Excellent. It’s my ori’vod, Fox,” Thorn said, his face growing serious.

“Marshal Commander ‘Fall in line or fuck off’ Fox?” Daria asked.

Thorn nodded, “That’s the one. He practically lives in his office still, and he needs someone to get him out. Someone that makes him want to take his days off. Someone who he can’t intimidate. Who won’t take his shit.”

“You want me to find someone who’s not intimidated by the most intimidating authority figure on the planet? Possibly in the quadrant?”

“You’re Daria Trace. You found someone that made Wolffe smile. Not a ‘last thing you see before you die’ smile, but an ‘I’m so in love’ smile,” Thorn said, his bright eyes soft and hopeful.

“While everything you just said is true,” Daria conceded. “Commander Wolffe wanted my help. I feel like Commander Fox will toss me in a holding cell, if I so much as suggest he needs my assistance finding a date.”

“But he does,” Thorn insisted. “Just meet him. If he’s hopeless, he’s hopeless. If he’s not, promise me you’ll find someone for him.”

Daria adored the clones, but the way they wielded those big brown eyes was brutal. It was nearly impossible to deny them anything in one’s power.

“Bring him in,” she said finally, caving to Thorn’s masterful tooka eyes.

“Wizard! I knew you’d be up for it,” He cheered. “This means the world to me, Daria. He deserves to live his life.”

“You all do,” she assured him. “I promise I’ll do all I can. Now put on your helmet and get out of my office.”

Thorn shot her a winning smile, and left with a pep in his step. The door had barely closed behind him before Daria was researching Fox on the holonet while she twirled her new vibroblade.

***

Fox never thought he would miss the rules that led all of his vode to keep their relationships under wraps, but then Right to Love set up shop. He now had a battalion of love struck shock troopers, who couldn’t stop going on and on about their new partners, and their matchmakers.

Everywhere he went it was:

“Tarsi changed my life.”

“I owe Yen everything.”

“Daria is a miracle worker.”

Daria Fucking Trace. She was Thorn’s favorite, and he’d been bugging Fox to come and meet her ever since his first date with his now girlfriend. Every three to five business days, he’d be back at it again. Fox loved seeing his brothers happy, and thriving. Especially Thorn, even though he was testing Fox’s patience.

Fox had made the mistake of saying Thorn’s lunch looked tasty, and he’d eagerly explained his girlfriend made it for him, and Fox could have homemade lunches with love notes too, if he would just meet Daria.

“Look, Fox, I know you’re very attached to your nocturnal, work is my life persona, but we’re free men now,” Thorn said before biting into his lunch, humming with joy at the taste. “We deserve to be happy. Especially you, vod.”

“Free or not, we still have a job to do. One of us has to stay focused, so the rest can go off with pretty nat borns,” Fox countered, sipping on an iced caf.

“You should be out with pretty nat borns too. Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not punishing myself. I’m just too busy for a relationship. Someone has to keep this place in order. As Marshal Commander,” Fox began.

“As Marshal Commander,” Thorn mocked with an exaggerated voice. “Just go with me to meet her. If it doesn’t work, I’ll kriff off. But if she can find you a nice young woman or man to get the stick out of your ass…”

“Will you leave me the kriff alone if I say yes?” Fox demanded.

“Yes! For a time.”

“And I won’t have to hear about Daria Trace for the next 30 rotations minimum?”

“Sure thing…but you’ll go?” Thorn looked so excited, even Fox felt himself melting a little. His soft spot for Thorn would never harden it seemed.

“Fine. Set it up.”

“YES!” Thorn cheered before taking a victorious bite of his lunch, grinning as he chewed.

***

Daria waltzed to the lobby promptly at 1259 hours, and found Blizzard obsessively straightening his desk.

“What are you doing, Blizz?” She asked with barely concealed amusement.

“The Commander Fox is coming here. I just want everything to be perfect.” He leaned closer and offered in a conspiratorial whisper, “He’s so kriffing cool. Total badass. I’m equally terrified and in awe.”

“Is that so?” Daria asked with a grin.

Blizzard nodded, and opened his mouth to say more, but at 1300 hours on the dot the door was opening to admit Commander Thorn with Commander Fox in tow.

Thorn always brought wonderful energy into any space, and Daria found his presence comforting if a bit wild.

Fox’s energy was an entirely different story. Contained, but utterly commanding with the fiercest protective intent. She couldn’t focus on anything else no matter how she tried, but the part that surprised her was the blissful feeling of being utterly secure. Safe. Relaxed.

Her constant desire to fidget was quelled. Her fingers rested in her pockets. Her weight held in place rather than shifting. Her heart was steady, calm.

Is this what other people feel like all of the time? Daria thought, offering a dazzling smile to the pair of commanders.

Thorn, never being one for ceremony, scooped Daria up into a bear hug, squishing her against his armored chest until she wheezed in protest.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she coughed out, as he placed her back on her feet.

“I forget how tiny and soft you are,” Thorn said as though he was amused.

“Scientists and therapists under 5’7” aren’t known for breeding kids of the blaster-toting, knife-gifting variety,” Daria said, lifting one expertly arched brow.

“It’s ok, Daria, we can’t all be perfect,” Thorn said, pulling his helmet off, and shaking his curls free. “This is Commander Fox. Fox, this is Daria Trace. The miracle matchmaker.”

“Is that what you’ve been telling people about me?” Daria asked, her face warming up instantly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure my exploits were greatly exaggerated. Especially coming from my dear little brother,” Fox said, his tone bored, and drier than Tatooine.

Oh this will be fun. Daria thought.

“Well, I’ll let you do your thing, and find Fox a wife or a husband. He’s not picky,” Thorn said with a smirk. “He can’t be with that face.”

The modulator did nothing to hide the sigh of sheer exhaustion from Fox.

“You have the same…clone humor. I should have expected nothing less from you,” Daria said with a soft laugh.

“Don’t indulge him,” Fox said tilting his head at her disapprovingly.

“Sorry. Follow me,” Daria said, with a laugh.

Fox followed the matchmaker down the hall. Everything about her said she’d never followed a rule in her life. From her mismatched earrings to the way she walked like there was music playing only she could hear. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the way her rich voice wrapped around the word Commander like the concept of authority amused her. It was completely unsurprising that Thorn was fond of her.

Reaching her office, Fox scanned the room quickly. A wall devoted to her successful matches no doubt, as he saw several of his brothers’ faces, including Thorn and Wolffe. There were a number of small toys scattered across Daria’s desk. Fox counted 10. Some brightly colored, some durasteel, and before she could stash it in a drawer…

“Is that a vibroblade?” he asked, folding his arms, as he took a seat at her desk.

“Gift from Thorn,” she said, closing the drawer where she kept the weapon turned fidget toy.

“Don’t cut yourself with it,” Fox said. “It’ll be a mountain of paperwork when you have to explain to a doctor how a matchmaker got stabbed with a vibroblade.”

“Don’t lose sleep over it, Commander,” Daria said, whipping the knife out of the drawer and spinning it quickly through her fingers while keeping her eyes on his visor.

“How long have you been practicing that?”

“Every free moment for 3 rotations,” she confessed.

Fox shook his head. That tracked.

“You didn’t come all the way here to discuss my knife skills. You need a date.”

“I’m only doing this to get Thorn off of my ass,” Fox said, folding his arms, and sitting back in the chair across from Daria.

“Ah so you’d like to hang out in my office, kill an hour, and then go back and pretend I’m a fake?” Daria asked, with a raised brow.

“Something like that.”

Daria laughed, and Fox noted the sound was pleasant, infectious. “Nope. My professional reputation is as sparkling as your service record, Commander.”

“Please. This is guess work at best,” He argued.

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

“How?” He asked.

“Talk to me.”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

Daria released a sigh, and fixed him with a look. “I mean about something real like why Thorn is so invested in your love life.”

“Because he’s a nosy little brother. As an only child, you wouldn’t know about that,” He said, relaxing his arms, as he made himself comfortable. He was disappointed when his revelation was met with a satisfied little grin instead of surprise.

“I hope you found something more interesting than that in my background check,” She said, placing her elbows on the desk, and resting her chin on her crossed fingers.

“Perhaps. I’d never show all of my cards right away, Trace,” He said with a light shrug. “And neither would you.”

You wanna play hardball, let’s play. She thought.

“Ok, you think I'm a fraud; I think you’re afraid.”

The lightest shift in energy in the room told Daria she’d struck a nerve.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, keeping his voice professional and even.

“A very long list of things that I couldn’t get through with 2 full rotations devoted to you, so let’s split my lunch, Thorn’ll think we did the whole thing, and you can go back to pretending you’re happy.” Reaching into her bottom desk drawer, Daria pulled out her lunch, and set about portioning out half for Fox.

“Here,” She said, passing him half of her pasta, and half of a large pastry.

He’d been on the verge of declining and walking out, but he was absolutely starving, and it looked so delicious. Especially the pastry. His sweet tooth wouldn’t let him say no. He accepted the food, and watched as Daria got comfortable in her chair, one leg tucked beneath her, as she started eating.

There was a light hiss, as Fox unsealed and removed his helmet. He was acutely aware of the matchmaker’s gaze, as she took in his features. He could hear her mentally noting the differences between him and his brothers. The scar on his nose, his curls held back by a red headband, the dark circles under his eyes.

He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth, and resisted humming in pleasure. Of course it’s delicious. Perfect. He thought, annoyed.

“Good?” She asked, swallowing her current bite, and looking hopeful.

“Yeah,” He confessed. “I don’t really make time to cook.”

“I’d be more surprised if you did.”

They continued to eat in a surprisingly companionable silence until Fox bit into the pastry. Fuck, ok. He thought.

“I’m not pretending I’m happy,” he blurted out before taking another bite of the fluffy treat.

“I didn’t peg you for a liar, Commander.”

“I’m not lying,” He shot back, brow furrowed.

“You were bred for war, told you’d see the stars, and got stuck in this corrupt skughole,” Daria said, twirling noodles onto her fork. “Your life is your own now, but you insist on clinging to what you know because it’s safe, simple, comforting.”

“You don’t have a sense of duty, clearly,” Fox said with a roll of his eyes.

“No, I do. I just also believe that my life is mine, and feeling fulfilled is important. That can look different for different people,” she replied. “Do you feel fulfilled?”

He stared down at his food for a moment. “You’re irritating, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a few times.”

After another long moment, Fox confessed, “Maybe coming home to someone wouldn’t be terrible, but they’d have to understand the job comes first. My hours aren’t normal, and I don’t dance.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Daria said, scooping up her datapad and making some notes while she munched on half of the pastry. “Do you like animals?”

“No.”

“This is going to take forever, if you keep lying to me,” she said without missing a beat as she marked yes.

“How do you do that? It’s exhausting,” Fox snapped, shoving the last bite of pastry into his mouth.

“It’s always been like that,” Daria looked up then, and fixed him in her gaze. “You have a sweet tooth. It’s bad.”

“So find me a baker.”

“It’s not that easy.”

After another hour of getting raked over the coals by the matchmaker, Daria escorted Fox back to the lobby.

“I’ll call you,” she said with a mysterious little smile. “Bye, Thorn.”

“Bye, Daria. Thank you,” Thorn called as she made her way back down the hallway.

Fox watched her go before slipping out of the front door and taking a deep breath once it had closed behind him.

“She’s amazing, right?” Thorn asked, joining him.

Fox pulled on his helmet. “She’s as obnoxious as you without the shared DNA to make it tolerable.”

“Whatever, you love me,” Thorn said, as he donned his own helmet. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

“I already ate. Go take your girlfriend to a food stand, and I’ll see you in a little while,” Fox ordered.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Thorn replied, taking off towards the train.

Alone with his thoughts, Fox wandered back towards the barracks.

Daria Fucking Trace was an absolute menace. There was no doubt about it.

***

No less than 15 minutes after Fox’s departure, Daria was twirling her blade, and flipping through profiles. No one currently in the system would suit the salty Commander, but she was determined to find someone who could make that man smile. He might have been hard on the outside, but those soft insides deserved someone who would cherish him.

[jpitha]

Dreams of Hyacinth 37

First / Previous / Next

Sound of the City looked incredulous. Nick caught himself being surprised that he could tell. Up until yesterday he had never met an Aviens, and now he could read their body language?

You're welcome.

Anyway. City crossed her arms. "You want me to find someone who is familiar with the Sol system, and can gather information on your other partner, Selkirk, who currently commands one of Raaden's ships?"

Nick nodded. "You got it. Do you know anyone?"

City's feathers rippled and she sighed. "I'm annoyed that I actually do know someone, I'll have you know. I don't even think you realize how unusual that is?"

Nick was sitting at Melody's desk - his desk now, he supposed - in the Royal Dawn. Apparently, Melody did a lot of work that didn't require the Throne here. Eastern had gone back to the Throne to work on the Gate more, and Nick had decided to sit here. In addition to talking to City, Nick was expecting folks on the Reach to stop by and ask questions. They were, ostensibly, in charge now.

Speaking of. "City, what do the Administrators think of us? I don't want to build resentment by overstepping."

City glanced down at the pad she was carrying and made a quick note. "They have asked me to set up a meeting with you and the Empress as soon as possible. Do you know if she can meet today?"

Hey hon, the Administrators want to talk today. Do you have time?

Tell them right after lunch. I think I can get to a point where the systems can work without my direct intervention then.

"The Empress says we can both meet with the Administrators after lunch today."

City nodded without looking up, making another gesture in her pad. "Excellent. Thank you, Emperor. I will make contact with.. the person I have in mind for your request, and will bring them with me if they accept the offer." City's eyes flicked up to Nick. "You are going to pay them, right?"

"Oh yes, yes. I have a line of funds valid in Sol that I can draw upon to pay this person." Nick once again thanked his partners that they were so much smarter than he was. They had more than enough money to hire just about anyone they could need.

City exhaled in relief. Nick was surprised that aviens - at least City - did that gesture too. “Good. Okay then Emperor, I’ll be off. Elmi will help you with any petitioners that come by today.”

“Elmi?”

“Oh, you haven’t met them yet. Hold on, I’ll do the introductions.” City stepped around a corner and came back with…

Nick could only describe it as a person in a space suit. They were a head taller than Nick and wore a form fitting space suit. City noticed Nick’s expression. “Elmi is a Falmor. Their original planet has a different breathing mixture, they can’t breathe oxygen. Outside of their area on the Reach and their small city on Venus they need to wear these environmental suits.”

Elmi bowed slightly and spoke through the speaker in their helmet. “It is an honor to assist you, Emperor.”

“Thank you Elmi, please let me know how I can help.”

Elmi made a gesture with her hands - equilivant of a smile, according to the Nanites - and said, “That is my job, Emperor. I am here to help you.”

Nick smiled. “Please then, send in the first petitioner.” He looked over at City. “Thank you again City. Please let me know what you find.”

She bowed and left without another word.’

Nick spent the morning working with Elmi and the few people who were brave enough to see him right away. Nick was surprised. He expected more people and said as much to Elmi.

“You are new here Emperor, the people do not trust you as of yet.”

Nick sipped his drink. It wasn’t coffee, he wanted to try the local beverages. Someone from the hotel had given him a tea. He couldn’t place the flavor, it was completely unknown to him, but it was hot and sweet and tasted good. Kind of fruity? “I suppose that makes sense. We did just arrive. Elmi, do you know what the people think of us?”

She made a complex gesture with her hands. Since the Falmor live in suits outside of their sector of the Reach, body language is nearly useless. Over the years they developed a sign language to use with their speech to assist with more subtleties of their language. Nick’s Nanites helped translate. She was indicating a sad dissent. “I apologize Emperor, I don’t interact with the general public of the Reach very much.”

“Well, what about your fellow Falmor? Do they have an opinion?”

Another gesture. Like a shrug. “We all loved Melody. She welcomed us out of our sector and encouraged us to come to the rest of the Reach and help others. We were saddened to hear of the attack and her passing. I think that most people here are open to your and the Empress’ arrival and are just waiting to see what you do.”

“Then, Eastern and I will need to do our best to make a good impression.”

“Emperor.” Before Elmi turned to fetch the next petitioner, she made a quick small gesture. The Nanites told Nick it was like a quick smile.

Nick was able to see a few more petitioners before the middday meal. Eastern had returned, right on schedule, her eyes tired. “Are you all right hon? You look beat.” Nick said.

Eastern nodded and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a lot of work being connected to the Throne. More than I thought it would be. I’m nearly done though. Things should be automatic from here on out.”

As they finished their meal, City arrived. “Emperor, Empress. The Administrators have arrived. Would you like to meet them here, or over in the Throne?”

Nick looked at Eastern, who shrugged with her eyes. She stood.“Here is fine, City. Let’s meet them in the office.”

City nodded and turned. Nick and Eastern walked across the hall to the office where Nick spent the morning, and they both sat behind the large desk. Eastern closed her eyes and concentrated for just a moment, and her crown flared slightly. She looked at nick and her eyes flashed to the top of his head. He concentrated as well, and his crown, similar but slightly different than hers flared as well.

City entered with the Administrators. There were 4 of them; an Aviens, a Mariens, a Falmor and a K’laxi. Nick and Eastern did not successfully hide their surprise.

At their surprise, the K’laxi administrator flicked their ears in amusement. “Yes, Emperor, there are K’laxi onboard the Reach. Not as many as our friends the Aviens, Mariens and Falmor, but still, we are here.”

Eastern and Nick stood, and bowed. Surprised, the Administrators returned the bow. “You honor us by seeing us, Holy Ones. We are in your debt.”

Nick blinked. “Pardon me, but; Holy Ones?”

The Aviens Administrators bobbed their head quickly. “Yes yes, in addition to being the Emperor and Empress of your empire you are also the head of your church. Your words and actions are divine and we are here to serve.”

The K’laxi in the delegation rolled their eyes very slightly. Nick caught the gesture but said nothing.

“Additionally Holy Ones-“ Continued the Mariens “-we have learned that you have begun construction of a Gate, something that has not happened here in nearly five hundred of your years. We are most excited that the work has restarted.”

The Mariens were interesting. Nick was fascinated by them. Originally coming from a world almost entirely covered in water, they evolved from the seas. Nearly boneless, they almost were like what an octopus could evolve into, given a few million years.

The Aviens bobbed again. “Oh yes, restarting Gate construction is more than we could have hoped for. Even Empress Melody did not do that. We completely understand of course-“ they added quickly “-Empress Melody came to us in the middle of a situation and had her empire to reclaim, but the fact that you came and immediately started work on a Gate is auspicious. It is good you are here.”

“I am thankful you feel that way Administrator.” Eastern inclined her head as she spoke. “I want to make it clear that we are not here to usurp your rule. Your role as Administrator is important to the Reach, and we will be calling upon you for advice and counsel. We would like to leave the day-to-day operation of the Reach to you, so that we are better able to handle matters… of empire.”

Agreeable noises from the Administrators. “Yes Emperor, Empress. We like this too. Thank you for your trust in us.” This time the Falmor spoke.

“So, where are you from originally?” The K’laxi asks, their tail twitching. Your accent is Parvatian-“ They point at Nick “-but I can’t place yours.” They point at Eastern.

“I’m from Luna originally, but I lived on High Mars Hyacinth for many years.”

The K’laxi nods. “Ah, that must be it. There are so many accents and dialects in Sol, I am not familiar with all of them. More humans gaining the mantle or Empress. I suppose it is inevitable. I can’t think of another species more likely to touch random things just to see what they do.”

The Aviens, Mariens, and Falmor Administrator turn to the K’laxi. The Mariens looks legitimately upset and the Aviens is surprised.

The K’laxi Adminstrator turns towards their colleagues. “Don’t act so surprised. We’ve known the humans longer than any of you. If anyone has an idea about what humans are going to do, it’s us.”

“Y-you speak out of turn!” The Aviens’s feathers are rustling.

The K’laxi holds up a hand. “Peace, sister. They are my Emperor and Empress, but they are also human. We should not come to them and bow and scrape the entire time. They will take advantage.”

Nick turns to see Eastern chuckling. “Now, them I like. Tell me your name please, Administrator.”

The K’laxi bows and Nick detects just a hint of sarcasm in it. “I am Administrator Yem’ari, Empress. I represent the K’laxi contingent on Reach of the Might of Vzzx.”

“And how many K’laxi are here?”

“Only a few thousand, Empress, We are the smallest contingent.”

“And yet, you are an Administrator.”

“My position was granted to me because of our familiarity with humanity. I work to help… translate the things that you do.”

Eastern raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Please, what do you make of ‘Empress’ Raaden and her work in Sol?”

A shadow crossed the K’laxi’s face. “We were not here while Empress Melody was, so we did not experience her first hand, but the fact that Raaden took her title and mantle and never returned to the Reach is… telling.”

“Tell me Yem’ari, are you and your group part of the faction that believes in the divinity of the Empress?” Nick asks.

Yem’ari’s tail flicks and she nods her head. To do both gestures indicates she’s spent a long time among humans. “Yes Emperor, we believe in the divinity of the Emperor and Empress and their voice. That is why we arrived. We were pilgrims, and the residents here were able to make space for us. We hope that more will come when things… calm down.”

“With the civil war you mean?”

Again, they nod and their tail flicks. “Yes, Emperor. With the civil war. We are not current with the news, but the number of K’laxi who have come to the Reach has dwindled, and we do not know if that means we’re winning and there’s no reason to come, or if we’re losing and there is nobody available to make the trip.” Yem’ari stares at Nick and Eastern hard. “If possible, we would like to learn what is happening. Do you think you can get some news for us?”

Eastern nods. “We will certainly try.”

Yem’ari smiles. “Thank you Holy Ones.”

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 21

welcome to the twenty-first fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Most Artists are Messy by @shipsgalore

Lance is drawing a complicated flower on the base of Keith’s wrist and it makes his lips pull up into a smile despite the panic. They’re always flowers when it comes to Lance. He uses them in everything he does, and usually doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Keith can count on one hand how many times the doodles on his arms haven’t been of flowers.

i love this one because keith & lance are just blatantly and clearly autistic. it’s wonderful. it’s sweet and fluffy and it’s a modern au, which as y’all know is my jam, and the last few paragraphs do this specific thing with sentiment repetition that genuinely gets to me every time

2. Be Alive With Me Tonight by @caesaria [EXPLICIT] [ABO]

When the Blade of Marmora requests assistance on an information gathering mission, Lance and Keith go undercover as a bonded alpha and omega pair. At first, it seems like this is going to be more like a vacation than a mission – right up until everything falls apart and they realize how unprepared they really are. Now, Lance and Keith have to fight to not only survive, but to make it out together. They’ll have to rely not only on their skills as Paladin, but the bond they’ve created and nurtured between them.

okay i gave this one the explicit warning bc there are chapters that are explicit, but tbh the scenes are skippable if that’s not ur thing. now this fic is an EPIC. truly. its a quarter million words and the plot is breathtaking, the worldbuilding is iconic and the romance is like HOLY SHIT. this is a novel, and better yet its a KLANCE novel, so. highly recommend if you have a day or two to read.

3. roses by @renyoi

Lance is always getting flowers for Keith, so Keith decides to return the favor--with a little help, of course.

written for prompt #4 of klance valentine's week!

keith is hilarious here. just in general but here especially and i love him. he wants to pamper lance so so badly and hes so straightforward and earnest!! and allura’s character in here is also excellent. i will leave u with this one line from the fic that made me laugh it loud: “ The next day, the sun rises to Keith Kogane, dressed all in black (that’s all that was clean, okay?!), loitering around in front of Alluring Blossom, the 5-star-rated “I’ve never had such a delightful bouquet delivered to me in my entire life!” flower shop of a woman named Allura Altea. Keith automatically trusted her because he loves people that also have alliteration in their names. “ king. love him

4. here it comes by rideahorse

Keith watched a lonely droplet of water fall from Lance’s soaked bangs, curving a path over the bridge of his nose and then pooling—almost teasingly so—at the bow of his lips.

“I feel like I won, for some reason,” Lance said quietly.

what have i told yall about fics from 2016!!! this fic made me SMILE and im not usually a fan of like senior year of high school fics but holy shit!! holy SHIT!! this fic had me smiling and kicking my feet and losing my mind. i will leave u with the note i put on my bookmark (spoiler warning):

a couple things: 1. “lance is a bad influence” and “lance is a pretty princess (tm)” are god tier tags so thanks for that 2. keith with a tongue piercing. must i say more. 3. i miss keith gyeong that was an excellent era 4. the couple tattoo moment had me taking a Moment 5. here’s how i imagine the aftermath of this: shiro: i saw u ditched prom. are you okay? keith: yeah actually! lance convinced me that we have to have a wild final night, so we went to a High School Party (tm), i decked a guy for lance and your honour, we panic drove away, went skinny dipping in a pool, got caught, ran away naked for two blocks, went to sonic in another town, got matching tattoos, fucked in the backseat of my car, and watched the sunrise :)) shiro: shiro: shiro: shiro: i’m sorry. what were those last parts keith: yeah i know you really like sunrises we probably should have invited you :// but it was kind of an us thing i’m sure you understand :) shiro: KEITH

anyways i laughed

5. if silence was a song by @angstinspace

“It’s … Your show is on so late at night,” Keith tries to explain, as if Lance didn’t know this already. “I guess I was just wondering why that is.”

A crackling silence answers him, and Keith’s stomach sinks. Did Lance hang up? Keith can’t exactly blame him.

But then he hears Lance make a noise––a short huff of breath that might have been either an impatient sigh or a quiet laugh … Keith has no clue.

“That’s the reason you’re calling? To complain about my time slot?”

or, Keith starts anonymously calling Lance's college radio show and develops an unexpected crush.

@catnippackets did a comic of this i believe, and it literally never leaves my head. yall know the trope where one person gets a phone call and halfway through they sigh wistfully and say “god i wish you were here” and then the other person smiles so viscerally it can be felt through the phone and they say “look behind you” and theyre THERE?????? that makes me lose it every time. i love this fic

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!    

[lovetohate001]

This is more of a fluff request, but a female reader who is a worker at the lab who starts having a crush on Peter, but she also draws/sketches and one day she draws him and maybe he sees her drawing him?

(Love your work by the way 💖💖💖💖 you write him perfectly 👏)

Love and Other Arts

Peter Ballard (001) x Reader | Fluff

Word Count: 850

© lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.

@expired-artery made a beautiful fanart for Love and Other Arts! Go show it some love HERE !

Sometimes working at Hawkin’s Laboratory became too much. With all the children here. And the fluorescent lit hallways. It was void of all the life living outside, in the forest, where the sun could kiss your skin, and the fall breeze could sweep through your hair. The children never got to go outside. Not really. And it pained you to think about it too deeply.

Some days, you wished you’d never stepped foot into this place. And other days you were beyond thankful for the generous salary you received at the end of every month. A double-edged sword you never knew what to do with, in all truth.

The children had been on their best behaviour today. 011 had finally shown some improvements in her training. She’d battered a few of the children up in the process, but Doctor Brenner had been thrilled.

For the rest of the day, the other children were rewarded for their efforts and rested for the afternoon. 011 was in the Rainbow Room with Doctor Brenner, as he’d promised. You silently prayed that she’d have enough energy to carry on tomorrow. Brenner had a way of pushing the talented children too far once he saw them excel. It wasn’t exactly healthy for them either.

You pushed your thoughts aside and sank onto the bench outside, your back against the wall. Employees were allowed outside the breakroom, giving you the time you needed to clear your head. And you had a pretty amazing view of the forest too.

It was already 5 pm and the sun was setting, gilding the outline of the pine trees in orange. A gentle breeze swayed them, the creaking of their branches and the cry of birds filling the peaceful silence.

“What to draw…” you mumbled to yourself, a pencil between your teeth as you stared down at your sketchpad. “Maybe…” you shifted and pressed your pencil to the page.

An oval. Soft sweeps of hair. Sharp cheekbones. A cupid’s bow. After some time, you heard the breakroom’s door open. You quickly shut your sketchbook and looked up. It was Peter.

“Hey you,” he greeted warmly, leaning against the wall near you.

Your heart couldn’t help skipping a few beats with the way those stunningly blue eyes of his looked at you. He was just beautiful…and so so kind. Kinder than any of the others here when it came to handling and teaching the children. You admired him for that. He was actually somewhat human.

“You were kind to 011 today. No one else would’ve dared, especially with Doctor Brenner’s mood today,” you replied, offering him a small and nervous smile.

Peter sighed and cast his eyes down to the floor, scuffing his feet on the pavement. “Being kind isn’t the most out of ordinary thing here, is it? Not when you’re here, at least.”

“Hmm…” you hummed, “I guess you’re right. We’re similar like that.”

“And may we never change,” he said proudly, finally taking a seat beside you.

“You come out here often, don’t you?” he tilted his head towards the sketchbook in your hands.

“Yeah,” you let out a breathy laugh, hugging your sketchbook tighter to your chest, “I guess I like being out here. I draw the landscape sometimes.”

“Can I see them?”

“Huh? See What?” your eyes widened a bit in panic. “Oh…you mean my drawings?”

“I saw one of the pictures you drew for 003 the other day. A tree covered in snow. It was done well,” he said, nothing but kindness in those eyes. No judgement whatsoever.

“Well alright then, if you insist.” With a deep breath, you handed your sketchbook over to him and held your breath.

You eyed him warily as he flipped through the book. He inspected each of them with so much attentiveness. Your heart skipped a beat again. if you could just take the book from him before he saw the drawing you’d started today.

“So, I guess that’s all I’ve really done before- I’m still working on the one from today, so please-“

“Is this me?”

Too late then.

“Oh…um…” your face heated up and you looked anywhere, absolutely anywhere except at Peter Ballard next to you, who was now asking you-

“You have a good eye. I think you drew me perfectly.”

“Thanks,” you said, still not looking at him. You were mortified. Incredibly so. And you couldn’t imagine how stalker-ish he must think you are now.

“Well…I think I’ve been here for more than my five-minute break. But please,” he put a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look up at him, “I would love to sit here next time. Maybe that way I can watch you draw and be a model at the same time. It’ll help with the angle you’re drawing me from, I just know it.”

And with that, the breakroom door opened and closed behind him as he left you alone in nature once more.

You couldn’t help but squeal into the sketchbook now pressed to your cheek in astonishment.

“He wants to model for me?!”

Maybe this place wasn’t as dull as you thought it would be.

MASTERLIST

SEND AN ASK / FIC REQUEST HERE!

[recurring-polynya]

Hello! Long time lurker. I've really enjoyed reading your work and especially love Heart is a Muscle and the way you characterise all the different relationships in it! My ask is how do you think Byakuya finds out about RenRuki. I feel like it would be one of those moments where subconsciously he'd see it coming but at the same time still be caught of guard and manage to be very Byakuya about it.

This was one of those where I wasn't quite sure if it was an ask or a fic request, but the fact is I have an old chunk of story sitting around that addresses this very question. I guess I intended to someday throw this into some post-Heart is a Muscle story, and maybe I still will, but who knows if I'm ever going to get there, so you can have it now. Takes place after everyone gets home from the Blood War (where Rukia and Renji had to confess to each other in the middle of bankai training because I thought it would be cool it was weighing on their hearts)

(I wrote this in 2019 and gave it only light edits)

| read on ao3 | request guidelines |

⚔️ 🕶️ 💕

The sun was starting to go down when Kuchiki Byakuya arrived at Practice Field #3. On a normal day, work hours would be long over, although one might find an industrious officer out in this part of the division grounds, training on their own, or a few of the younger ones playing a game of pick-up football. Tonight, it was quiet.

It had been nine days since Kurosaki Ichigo had defeated Yhwach.

A young human girl was perched on the fence surrounding the field, chatting animatedly with Byakuya's ridiculous adjutant, who snapped to attention when he sensed the approach of his commanding officer.

"Good evening, sir!" Abarai Renji barked. "Thank you for agreeing to this! I hope you don't mind, but I asked Inoue Orihime to come."

The girl hopped off the fence and bowed deeply. "Hello, again, Captain Kuchiki, sir!"

"Worried that I won't hold back?" Byakuya asked with a coolly raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I know you won't," Renji replied. "She's here so that I don't hold back."

Byakuya guffawed, and one side of his mouth quirked up. "Congratulations, Lieutenant. You've finally managed to say something humorous."

"You feeling good today, sir?" Renji asked, just a tinge of concern in his voice. "You feeling up for this?"

"I am fully recovered, thank you," Byakuya sniffed. "Yourself?"

"Feelin' good, sir."

"Then let us begin."

"Oh, one last thing, Captain. Would you mind leaving your scarf with Orihime, here? I wouldn't wanna get my blood all over another one."

"Truly, Lieutenant, you are on a roll today," Byakuya noted, unwinding the scarf from his neck and draping it around Orihime's.

"Oooh, it's so light!" Orihime cooed. "It's like nothing!"

"I'll tell Kurosaki to get you one for your birthday," Renji teased.

"Are you ready now?" Byakuya demanded.

"Yep, enough stallin'. Let's do this."

Orihime hopped back up on the fence and called up a shield in front of herself. "Good luck, Renji!" she called.

Abarai shot her a wink and took up his position on the field.

Byakuya placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, but did not draw it.

Abarai drew his and silently released into shikai. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. "Might wanna release, sir."

"I shall be the judge of that."

Renji gave a little nod. "As y'like. BANKAI!"

It was common knowledge that Abarai had unlocked a second level to his bankai in the Royal Realm. Byakuya was looking forward to seeing it actually, but he wasn't particularly concerned about it.

Byakuya knew quite a bit about zanpakutou and their releases. It did happen occasionally that a sword would reveal itself in stages, but it tended to retain its essential character.

Hihiou Zabimaru was an excellent bankai, powerful and versatile. It required immense spiritual pressure, iron concentration and significant amount of mental bookkeeping, Byakuya was given to understand. It had served Abarai well in his ill-advised hijinks up until now, but the fact was, it would not be truly formidable until Abarai himself had another half-century or so under his belt. It was too bulky, too finicky, too fragile. There was no other way to master bankai like that, only experience. Byakuya knew a quite bit about bankai like that, himself.

Abarai launched himself at his captain, blade swinging.

Byakuya went to shikai as he drew his zanpakutou, petals pouring forth from his sheath and forming a shield in front of him.

Abarai's blade sliced right through it.

Byakuya flash-stepped away, sweeping Senbonzakura's blades into a more solid foundation, only to find them knocked out of the way by a giant skeletal hand. Another flash step, another regrouping, and Abarai was there again.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. Hihio Zabimaru had been a joke. A prank. A giant, heavy, impossible-to-use freight train that Abarai had taken in stride, as he did every other misfortune that fate heaped upon him. It was a shadow, an echo of Abarai's real bankai.

So-oh Zabimaru also took immense spiritual pressure to summon, that much was still true. But the bulk, the unwieldy mass was gone. It was as if though Abarai's new spiritual armor was plugged directly into his spinal column. It moved with him weightlessly, astonishingly fast.

Something else had changed, too. Something about Abarai's spiritual pressure. It was more unified, more focused, more together. For the first time out of the many, many times Byakuya had fought his lieutenant, he did not feel like he was being attacked by an angry, flailing youth, but that he was facing a worthy adversary.

Byakuya was being pressed harder and harder to defend against Abarai's assault.

And the fact was, he was not fine.

The injuries inflicted on him by As Nodt were grievous. He was lucky to be alive, and if it weren't for Kirinji's healing springs, he probably wouldn't even be able to summon his zanpakutou. His soul was damaged, and although he had made a miraculous recovery, he was not completely made whole. His speed was close to what it once was, and his bond with Senbonzakura was as strong as ever, but his power and endurance were greatly compromised. He could go to bankai if needed, but it was extremely taxing, and Shuukei Hakuteiken was, at the moment, out of his reach.

He thought it wouldn't matter.

Abarai had never even come close to beating him.

Abarai wouldn't notice such a weakness and furthermore, was too sentimental to exploit such a--

He had brought Inoue.

Abarai knew exactly what he was doing.

“BANKAI!” Byakuya called out.

Abarai smirked. “You shouldna let me get that head start, Captain.”

---

"Renji, he's waking up!"

The world swam into view, tinted orange.

"Hey, Captain!" Abarai's grating bark rang out. "How you feel?"

"I feel fine," Byakuya snapped, starting to sit up.

"Lie down please, I'm almost done, but not quite," Orihime said firmly.

Byakuya put his head back down on the ground, and replayed the last few moments of the fight in his head.

Abarai had come out aggressively, going to bankai immediately. He had never allowed Byakuya to gain a solid footing, and pulled out his strongest attack, which Byakuya had never seen, as soon as he possibly could. Byakuya hadn’t even been able to get a good look at it, he only had the impression of fangs before becoming completely overwhelmed. Abarai, who knew his attack patterns, who knew that it took him a minute or two to work up a full head of steam, had bet everything he had on defeating Byakuya immediately and it had worked.

It had been a rout, an utter humiliation.

Byakuya could still beat his adjutant, surely, but he could no longer plow him over with superior strength, and certainly not in his degraded condition. He was going to need to think up counterstrategies. And some of them were not going to work.

He looked down at his chest and realized that his shihakushou had been sliced from shoulder to hip, and was soaked, absolutely drenched with blood.

"You didn't cut me in half, did you?" he sneered.

"No, you were definitely all still, um, attached," Renji clarified.

"Not by much, though," Orihime mumbled.

Renji nudged her firmly in the shoulder.

Orihime waved her hands, and the healing bubble collapsed into nothingness. "All done!"

Abarai held out a hand. With a twinge of reluctance, Byakuya took it, and let the younger man haul him to his feet.

Orihime scrambled up, pulling the scarf over her head, and offered it back. "Thanks for letting me watch! That was a really fun fight! You're both so, so strong and it's so much nicer when no one actually wants to kill each other."

"Hey, we don't wanna keep everyone waiting, right, 'Hime?" Renji said, glancing sideways at his captain. "We got dinner plans, everyone's leavin' tomorrow."

"Yes, Rukia mentioned it," Byakuya replied dryly.

"You okay to--"

"Stop checking on me, you fool. I have said I am well and I dislike repeating myself."

Renji nodded quickly. "Thanks for the fight, sir. I'll see you in the morning."

Three hours later, Byakuya sat in his office.

He was thinking.

He was thinking about the current state of the Gotei 13, the captain-less squads, the loss of highly seated officers. He was thinking about his Third Seat, who had never exactly been lieutenant material and was currently on medical leave after having his sword-arm completely reconstructed.

Byakuya looked up at the sound of the door opening.

"Uh, hi, Captain," Abarai said, clearly surprised to see him. "What are you doing here so late?"

"This is my office, is it not?" Byakuya snapped.

"Well, sure," Abarai replied, walking over to his own desk. "I left my sunglasses here," he explained, sticking them on top of his head.

"It's dark out," Byakuya pointed out.

"I'll need 'em in the morning," Renji shrugged. He frowned thoughtfully, then pulled open his filing cabinet and withdrew a folder. "Speaking of which, I was gonna give you this tomorrow, but as long as we're both here..."

He crossed the room and extended it.

Gingerly, Byakuya took it, then squinted at the notation on the tab. "Strongly Worded Letters to the Management of Squad 11?"

Abarai's eyes widened. "Oh, no, that was just to keep people from poking around. It's actually...well, it's pretty obvious what it is," he finished lamely.

"You aren't ready,"' Byakuya snarled.

"I'm...what?"

"Yes, your new bankai is very powerful, it is true. But just because you have run roughshod over a few enemies with it hardly means you're ready to strike out on your own. You need more training, more control. A bankai like that can land you in hot water as well as it can save you. Furthermore, there's a shortage of competent lieutenants, it would be foolhardy indeed for you to set forth without experienced backup, and don't tell me you're even thinking of the Seventh. I have heard how you and Lieutenant Iba are when you two are unsupervised."

Abarai's face was twisted in utter befuddlement. "Sir, what are you talking about?"

Byakuya flipped the folder open and stared at the neat stack of papers within. "This isn't an Intent to Test for the Captains' Exam," he said, taken aback.

Renji made a choking noise. "No, sir! Cripes, sir, I just got a new bankai, why would I leave? I need you to help me learn to use it. An' I wouldn't leave you, anyway, not while you're still, you know. From the As Nodt thing. Also, who the hell wants to be captain of anywhere but the Sixth?" His voice rose steadily in both volume and pitch as he babbled.

"There is no need to shout, Lieutenant," Byakuya frowned, looking down again at the stack of papers.

It was a copy of form RHCA-48-006-C, an application to become a Family-Approved Suitor.

Stupidly, Byakuya's eyes drifted over the names written into the form's blank spaces. "With the submission of this form, Abarai Renji, Assistant Captain of the Sixth Division of the Gotei 13," (did he really need to write all that out? It barely fit in the space) "requests the approval of the Kuchiki family to court Lady Kuchiki Rukia, Assistant Captain of the Thirteenth and First Daughter of the Kuchiki."

Oh.

Oh.

---

Byakuya sat in the garden, on the bench near the koi pond. His brain was chasing about in aimless circles, much like the fish in the pond.

"Brother?"

He looked up from the water. His sister was still dressed, despite the late hour. Byakuya recalled that she had been out earlier with Abarai and their human friends. Her hair and makeup was different from the way she wore it for formal events, sharper, wilder. It seemed surreal that parts of the city had been reduced to dust, while others had come through virtually untouched. That despite it all, life continued on.

"Are you alright?" Rukia asked, her brow creased with worry.

Byakuya smiled at her gently, affectionately. He thought about the great lengths he had once gone to protect her from the world, and now she, a woman with one of the most beautiful and deadly bankai he had ever seen, was fussing over him.

"I am fine, Rukia," he reassured her. "Will you sit with me?"

He had expected her to perch at the other end of the bench, a nervous bird, always ready to take flight. Instead, she sat close to him, and with an egregious disregard for propriety, took one of his hands between her own, holding it in her lap. "Renji's sorry, you know. He thought he should have waited another week or two, but I said--"

"He should not be,” Byakuya said stiffly. “Another week or two would have made no difference. I do not wish to speak of it further."

"Did you have something to eat--"

"Did you know that my lieutenant is in love with you?"

It was dark, so he couldn't see if Rukia's cheeks turned pink, but he did catch the shy smile that crossed her lips before she turned her face away self-consciously. Long ago, he had caused her normally unflappable sister to make that face once, maybe twice. It was possibly his greatest achievement.

"He, ah, mentioned something to that effect the other day,"

Byakuya was fairly certain that Abarai wouldn't have proceeded without Rukia's buy-in, but he felt it prudent to double-check. "I take it you... reciprocate?"

She made a pleased little hum. "He only happened to mention it at all because I had just told him that I was in love with him."

Byakuya often enjoyed whimsically deriding his ridiculously hardworking and absurdly devoted adjutant, even more so in the presence of his sister, whose affection for the man had long been obvious, if not the degree of it. But he couldn't bring himself to make jokes, not right now.

"You do not need my permission to take up with him romantically," he pointed out. "You and I have had a long-standing agreement, that as long as you were discreet about it--"

"Renji and I don't want that," Rukia interrupted. "I mean, we do. We do want to take up romantically." She made an odd face at having to say the phrase out loud. "But you're very important to both of us. We wanted you to know. We… wanted you to approve."

Byakuya glanced over at the young woman who he had adopted so many years ago, and yet, had only recently become his sister. She was, in so many ways, much like himself in his youth. Brash. Stubborn. Willful. Too brilliant by half. Byakuya adjusted his hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You know I am a sentimental fool," he began, and Rukia turned to look at him again with an expression he couldn't quite parse. "I think it is embarrassingly obvious how fond I am of both of you."

Emotion broke over Rukia's face. "It is not, Brother," she tried to scold him, though her voice cracked at the end.

"He hardly deserves you," Byakuya went on.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "The two of you are so--"

"But at least he acknowledges that, and seeks to remedy it," Byakuya ignored her. "I shall be watching closely to make sure he does not become complacent, but if he continues on his current trajectory, he may eventually become worth your affection."

"So, are you going to approve his stupid form?" Rukia asked.

"That," replied Byakuya, "is a different matter."

"Oh," Rukia said softly.

"Becoming a Family-Approved Suitor has nothing to do with whether or not I like him. It is an opening of negotiations, a proof of suitability for marriage. Surely, you two don't…" He trailed off when he saw Rukia looking away again.

"We've only just started figuring this out," she admitted. "But it's not...out of the question."

"Oh," Byakuya replied. He'd always had the distinct impression that his sister had little interest in matrimony, although he knew as well as anyone the difference the "who" of the equation could make.

"That presents...a difficulty," he admitted. "The Family would not take it well. They already think I have been too selfish in these matters.”

“That’s so short-sighted,” Rukia muttered. “So he doesn’t have much money or a name that goes six generations back. He’s got bankai. He’s incredibly strong. The family hasn’t even produced anyone who can pass the vice-captain’s exam in the last hundred years.”

"You misunderstand me, Sister," he clarified. "Bringing Abarai into the family would be a tremendous benefit to me, personally. I lack for neither money nor familial pedigree. The only thing I lack is a family line. A young man of immense spiritual pressure, with no family ties of his own, and an inexplicably fierce loyalty to myself would be of great benefit to our line and perhaps to our family as a whole. It would not be very advantageous to those who are jostling to prove themselves the best among a number of poor choices. The family has not been to war in a long time, and many forget how important it is to maintain our strength. I have not forgotten.”

Rukia’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t name him…”

Byakuya made a horrified face. “Of course not.” He frowned. “Not for the family. But the Captain of the Sixth need not also be the head of the family. I told the Head Captain a year ago he was the only one I trusted to replace me in that regard, although I doubted my posthumous opinion would be respected. I suppose I should tell Kyouraku the same. This would make things a bit smoother, I suppose.” He was quiet for a moment. “I will need to think on this. I might.... I might need to talk to Grandfather. I… will do what I can.”

Rukia eased her hand from his, and slid her arms around his waist and leaned into his side. “Thank you, Brother. I love you.”

Byakuya closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hardly deserved her, either. He pulled one arm out of her hug and rested it gently around her shoulder. “Thank you, Rukia,” he said softly. Another deep breath. “I love you, too.”

Her only response was to hug him just the teeniest bit harder.

[photo1030]

Hello, lovely!

I’m here with a request, but first I gotta profess my love for your story again (perhaps you lust for what you cannot have). Oh, it has stuck to my mind like glue ever since I first read it. The story is so good and your writing skills are excellent! I’m in great need of those fantastic writing skills of yours please. 🥰

Could you give me some good ol’ sweet fluff with F!Reader watching Arthur Morgan play/snuggle with a cat. Maybe you can add in there that he didn’t want any pets in the beginning, but immediately fell in love with the cute little guy/girl. I can picture Arthur writing in his journal with the cat laying in his lap. OMG. Imagine him drawing the cat in his journal?? 😭

Thank you in advance and please take all the time you may want or need 💚.

Thank you so much for this "ask"! This is my first request ever, so I hope I did it justice. I didn't do a "x female reader" but Arthur and Jack with this kitten. Hope that is OK? Still Arthur being adorable, so can't go wrong, right? But if you'd prefer the f!reader prompt, I can tweak it. This is the clearest image that came to my mind, so I went with it.

*I had my good friend @rivetingrosie4 beta-read this for me, so I kinda feel like its co-authored, too.

Tag: @misspearly1

ARTHUR'S SHADOW

Summary: Arthur finds an unlikely companion.

*This image is not mine. This comes from greyswan618 on fanpop.

By the time Arthur drags his latest bounty score into the sheriff's office, it's late in the day. And this one, although not necessarily hard to catch, took him a while to track down. This job was good money, but it has left Arthur exhausted. The sun is already hanging low in the sky outside of town and preparing to descend behind the mountains for the day. Since the bounty paid well, Arthur decides to treat himself with a stay at the hotel before returning home. After securing his room, he pays the hotel owner to keep his horse stabled overnight as well. May as well treat his horse too.

After walking back outside, Arthur takes Buck by the reins and leads him around to the back of the hotel to where the stable is. When he finds the stable empty, Arthur leads him to one of the larger stalls, since Buck is a rather large horse. He gets him bedded down for the night, taking off his saddle and brushing him down.

With Buck cleaned up, Arthur walks over to the rain barrel just outside the main door of the stable to fill the water trough in the stall. As he stands at the barrel, a sudden rustling catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning to his left, he notices two pairs of shining eyes staring back at him from under the workbench that lines the wall. Curious, Arthur tilts his head to get a better look. He slowly puts down the bucket that is in his hands.

When he crouches down closer to the barn floor, he sees two tiny kittens hiding there. Even with the encroaching darkness of the evening, with the help of the glow of the lamplight, he can tell they’re still very young. Their fur is just growing out of that baby-fuzz stage, the gray color of rain clouds, and they're awfully skinny. Arthur looks around to see if he can see any signs of the momma anywhere, but there's nothing nearby. Either she is out hunting for food for her babies, or she's abandoned them here.

The fatigue in Arthur���s body is no longer his focus, now that he’s found these little ones.

“Well, look at you,” he chuckles quietly. He reaches into his satchel at his side and pulls out a piece of dried fish that he has tucked away. "Bet you're hungry," he says, his voice rumbly, but soft to keep from frightening them.

He holds out the piece of meat, but the two kittens do not move and only stare back at him with scared, vacant eyes.

"Alright, then," he says with a smile and tosses the meat over to them, so they don’t have to leave the security of their hiding place.

The kittens both spring backwards, tripping over each other clumsily, as the projectile hurtles towards them and lands just in front of their tiny faces. But it only takes a second before curiosity and hunger gets the better of them. Once they get a whiff of the aroma of the meat, the kittens pounce on it and begin to devour the morsel.

Satisfied, Arthur stands up, wiping his hands together. He goes back to getting Buck watered and fed for the night, humming peacefully to himself as he does. Every now and then, he glances over his shoulder to watch the kittens, who are feasting on the fish.

With his task with Buck now complete, Arthur heads back to the barn door to return to his room for the night, his boots scraping across the dirt as he moves. The kittens pause momentarily in their feast to cautiously watch him, their little heads bobbing up and down, before returning their attention to the food.

The next morning, Arthur is early to rise from his hotel room and heads out to the stable. But as he approaches the big stable door, he slows his pace as he is met with a gruesome sight. In the tall grasses just outside the door, he finds the body of one of the baby kittens. Judging by the way the carcass is torn open, it looks like a raccoon or hawk got to it.

"Ah, damn…" sighs Arthur as a slight pang of disappointment hits him. They were cute little things, and it’s a real shame that something happened to them. But such is the way of things, he supposes. He then looks around for the second one. Having some small hope that the other kitten may still be alive, Arthur makes a clicking sound with his tongue, trying to coax it out of hiding. After a few moments, he sees a flash of gray fur under a beam in the stable. He bends down and pats his hand on the ground, and the second kitten slowly creeps out towards him.

"Looks like you're an orphan, now," Arthur says to the kitten, slightly tilting his head to the side and assessing the situation. "Ain't we a pair, then?" he chuckles softly.

Arthur slowly reaches over and picks up the kitten by the scruff, the little one giving a soft and pathetic "meow" as it's hoisted up. He holds the kitten up before his face to get a better look. It seems alright, no fleas or other parasites that are noticeable. It appears to be a male cat, too. Arthur places him in the palm of his other hand. The kitten is so tiny to begin with, and with Arthur's large hands, the babe sits perfectly within his palm. He twists his wrist back and forth, pivoting his hand, so he can continue looking over the kitten, trying to decide what to do with it now. The kitten simply stares back at Arthur with tiny smokey blue-gray eyes, blinking innocently, an occasional "meow" squeaking out of its petite mouth.

Arthur sighs with resignation. "Alright, little one. Better come back with me. You won't make it out here on your own, that's for sure."

Arthur pauses another moment, looking at the kitten in his hand, second-guessing whether he's making the right decision to take this cat with him. He's never particularly cared for cats. They always seem so temperamental and judgmental. He gets enough of that bullshit from people. Dogs. Arthur is a dog-person, with Copper being his pride and joy and best friend as a kid growing up with Hosea and Dutch. And, of course, there's always been his horses as his constant companions.

Sighing again with a shrug, he adds, "Well, maybe you can keep Jack company."

Arthur carefully sets the kitten back down and gives him another piece of fish out of his satchel to keep the kitten occupied while he gets Buck saddled and ready to head out and start for home. It's another day's ride, so Arthur is anxious to get going. By the time the kitten has gobbled up the food Arthur gave him, Arthur is ready to go and gently scoops up the kitten again and mounts his horse to begin the journey home.

As they ride out of town, Arthur protectively holds the kitten in his arm, close to his chest. The kitten doesn't move or fuss, but simply lifts its tiny face, turning about to look around at what's around him. After a while of riding, though, Arthur's arm begins to tire, and the kitten's fur up against him is making him start to sweat a bit. He needs to decide what to do with this cat so they can comfortably ride home. He considers putting him in his satchel, but quickly decides against it, worried the kitten would either suffocate inside the leather bag, or, get into all of the contents of the bag itself.

Noting how calm the kitten has been so far, Arthur simply decides to set the kitten down in front of him in the saddle. He's small enough to sit there between Arthur's thick thighs, and his burly forearms keep the kitten contained in the space pretty well. The kitten instantly sinks its claws into the leather of the saddle, bracing itself in a slight panic at being released from Arthur's protective grasp. But although the horse beneath them is walking at a brisk pace, his gait is smooth, so Arthur doesn't worry too much about the kitten getting jostled about.

And soon enough, the kitten finds its bravery and relaxes to release its claws from the soft material and sits up a bit. Arthur doesn't say anything, or hinder the kitten in any way, but watches the little one, amused at its quest for discovery. It doesn't take long for the kitten to gain more confidence, and he eventually climbs up to stand, putting his front paws up on the saddle horn. Like a tiny lion sentinel, the kitten observes the new world around himself.

After a long day's ride, Arthur decides to stop and make a small camp and settle in for the night. Once he finds a quiet, out-of-the-way spot, he halts Buck. Arthur wearily climbs down from his saddle, kitten in-hand, and sets the baby down on the ground to wander about in the cool grass while he sets up his temporary camp.

"Stick close. Don't be goin' and wanderin' off and gettin' into trouble," he warns the kitten with a pointed finger, as if scolding a child.

The furry face simply stares back at him, offering Arthur a quick "meow" in response.

Arthur goes about setting himself up for the evening, getting a small fire going first. Next, he pulls a can of food out of his saddlebag and proceeds to open it. He casually watches the kitten out of the corner of his eye, constantly keeping watch over him as he works. He sets the can next to the fire to heat up while he continues with his task at hand.

Arthur gets his bedroll set out and sets Buck's saddle atop it to use as a pillow to sleep against later. And all the while Arthur works, the gray kitten putters about his feet, following him around continuously as he moves. With every item that Arthur sets down, the kitten eagerly saunters over to sniff and investigate it. He constantly follows and lingers about Arthur's footsteps, poking at everything in innocent interest, to the point that Arthur has to watch his step so the kitten doesn't come under one of his massive footfalls and gets stepped on.

With camp finally set up, Arthur returns his attention to the can that has been warming by the fire as tonight's dinner. He grabs the can, pulls a fork from his bag, and settles down on his bedroll, leaning back against his saddle to get comfortable. Arthur lifts his eyes from the food in his hand to see the kitten slowly approach him. Now that the man has finally stopped moving long enough, the kitten can get up close to him again. The aroma of the food intrigues the little one and he lifts his tiny head, hungrily sniffing the air.

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur spears a few of the beans with the time-worn tines of the fork and extends his arm out to the kitten. "Ya like beans?" he asks the ball of fur.

The kitten cautiously sniffs the food, but turns its nose up at it, backing away.

"Come on now, you eat what's offered or you don't eat at all," he scolds the kitten. "At least that's what my momma used to say." Arthur waves the fork out in front of the kitten again to try to coax it to eat. "Come on…gotta at least try it."

The kitten comes back to him, sniffing again and reluctantly extends its neck out and licks the morsel with its tiny pink sandpaper tongue. After a few licks, the kitten decides it's edible and grabs the piece off of the end of the utensil.

"Atta, boy," Arthur says approvingly. He smirks to himself, realizing how ridiculous he sounds having a conversation with a cat. But then again, he talks to Buck all of the time, so he supposes that this really isn't all that different.

After Arthur and the kitten finish the can of beans, Arthur lays back against the saddle again to relax, his heavy frame melting into the bedroll beneath him, and lights a cigarette. He lets out a long, tired sigh as his eyes land on the kitten once more. As Arthur shuffles his foot a bit to get comfortable, the kitten takes great interest in the movement of his boot and decides to test his bravery.

His little butt rises in the air, tiny tail like an arrow straight up and at attention. The kitten crawls along the ground on his belly, attempting to be stealth-like. Arthur sees this and with a grin, he slowly waves his foot a bit again in temptation. And when he does, the kitten pounces on his boot, attacking it playfully and bites on the leather of the sole. The gruff outlaw lets out a soft laugh of amusement through his nose and begins to slowly wave his foot back and forth at the ankle, causing the kitten, who has wrapped himself around the boot, to sway back and forth above the ground. After a few more gnawing bites, the kitten plops down to the ground, confident in its own victory.

Fully invested in this as his entertainment for the evening, Arthur reaches over to his gambler's hat that is set off to the side, leans forward and drops it overtop of the kitten, trapping it underneath. There is no further movement, but Arthur can hear its little meows from under it. Smirking with his cigarette dangling from his chapped lips, he carefully picks up just the brim of the hat and tilts his head to peer under it.

He sees the kitten's little nose and a thin little paw swipe out at him, causing Arthur to chuckle.

"Fighter, ain't ya?" When Arthur lifts the hat up a bit more, the kitten quickly hops out from under it, grabs ahold of Arthur's forearm, and starts grappling with it, biting and digging its needle-like claws into Arthur's shirt and leather gloves.

Amused, Arthur rests his arm on the ground, carefully pinning the playful kitten underneath. He playfully growls at the kitten and uses his hand to roll the ball of fur over and over again, wrestling and playing with him.

When the kitten finally wears out, Arthur pauses to give him a break. The kitten stands up and gives itself a full-body shake, causing little pieces of grass and dirt to fly through the air. He's a scrappy little thing. Arthur will give him credit for that, at least. Arthur slowly pulls his black leather gloves off of his hands and reaches over to tuck them into his saddlebag, as he is truly getting settled in for the evening now.

The kitten sits on the bedroll next to his thigh, innocently watching Arthur as he moves. Arthur rolls back to lie flat and glances at the kitten for a moment before he extends his large fingertip out to rub along the top of the kitten's head, right between its ears. The kitten's eyes slowly close as it gives into the heavenly feeling, and it eagerly pushes its head up into Arthur's hand. Arthur can hear the kitten purring happily, the soft sound almost hypnotic.

"Ya like that, do ya?" Arthur's low voice rumbles in the quiet night. It's funny how such a small gesture can be so impactful on another living soul. The campfire crackles and pops softly next to them, being the only background noise to be heard in the night; its heat radiating and keeping the two of them cozy and warm.

Arthur eventually ceases petting the kitten and returns his hands to his lap. At the abrupt end to its massage, the kitten looks at Arthur again expectantly, and springs up to stand atop Arthur's chest. Inquisitive as ever, it crouches a bit and crawls towards Arthur's face, its head bobbing up and down, as cats are want to do when stalking their object of interest.

Just as the kitten gets close to Arthur's face, Arthur purses his lips together and blows a short burst of air into its face, causing it to jump back in surprise. It then suddenly leaps forward again in challenge and starts to chew on Arthur's beard. This causes Arthur to bark out a laugh a bit in spite of himself. To see such an innocent creature, so full of energy, warms his bitter old heart. He brings his hands up to start to pet the kitten again, running his large hands along its diminutive and skeletal body. After just a brief moment, the kitten seems placated with this as an "apology" and switches from biting at the man's beard to the occasional lick to his nose instead. And even though it is meant to comfort the kitten, Arthur has to admit that stroking the soft fur is oddly calming to himself as well.

"Alright, then, that's enough of that," Arthur grunts out as he picks up the kitten with one hand and sets him off to the side of him again and reaches over to grab his journal. Arthur rolls himself to sit up with an exaggerated groan, and sets the precious book onto his folded legs, opening the pages to the next blank ivory-colored page. He hasn't even set his pencil to the paper yet, when the curious kitten jumps up to perch itself on his knee.

The small face peers down to inspect the latest object of focus. Before Arthur can even stop him, the kitten hops down onto the book itself and starts walking around in circles on the pages, sniffing and inspecting it, chewing the corner just briefly, before plopping down to lay himself right across the smooth, open surface. The kitten innocently looks up at Arthur, wanting his undivided attention yet again.

"No, now, come on, fuzz-butt, get outta here now," he gruffly chides, but with only a slight annoyance in his voice as he playfully sweeps the kitten to the side with his forearm. The kitten meows in protest, lifting its paw to swat at Arthur's hand. "Hey, don't sass me, now. We're done playin' for the night."

And by this time, exhaustion has finally caught up to both Arthur and the little gray kitten, so Arthur only takes a few minutes to capture some brief thoughts in the journal before turning in for the night. He notes the job he completed, the money brought in for it, and then jots a few lines about this kitten that he'd found. He even takes a moment to quickly sketch the little one onto the paper, the strokes of the graphite tip skipping fluidly across the paper. Every time Arthur looks over at the furry ball for a perspective to assist in his drawing, the tiny face peers back at him, watching the pencil move in Arthur's hand, but obediently staying put.

When he's done, Arthur carefully closes his journal and tucks it back into its rightful place in his satchel. Taking a deep breath and stretching his tired arms over his head for a brief moment, Arthur then takes his hat and scoops the kitten into it in an effort to keep him safe and warm overnight while they sleep. He's hoping the little adventurer stays put and doesn't wander off in the night.

"There, now," peering down at the babe. "You stay there tonight, and then we'll get you home to Jack tomorrow." Arthur rubs his fingertips along the kitten's head again, gently scratching its scalp with his jagged fingernails, and then sets the hat right next to him, protectively along his side, before lying back and closing his eyes for the night.

The next morning, as the warm sunlight breaks over the horizon, consciousness slowly grabs ahold of the outlaw. He can feel the chill of the morning dew clinging to his clothing. With his eyes still sealed shut, reluctant to release the bliss of sleep just yet, Arthur stretches his body, hearing the familiar popping sound of his joints. He's getting too old to be sleeping on the cold, hard ground anymore.

Suddenly, he is aware of a slight weight on his abdomen. He peels open his eyes and sees the kitten curled up into a tight ball on his stomach, fast asleep, with its nose buried into the fur of its tail. It obviously crawled out of the make-shift bed of Arthur's hat and climbed up on top of the man at some point in the night. Whether it was seeking protection or warmth, Arthur's own body heat and the slow rise and fall of his chest kept the tiny animal comforted while it slept. The corners of Arthur's lips involuntarily pull up and a whispered "aww" escapes before he can even stop it.

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

When he gets back to camp, Arthur dismounts his horse and walks through the collection of tents and tables with the kitten tucked in his hand. He heads straight over to Dutch's tent to drop off the bounty payment. Dutch is sitting outside his tent, reading a book with a cigar clenched between his teeth, and as he gets closer, Arthur eventually sets the kitten down on the ground to walk so that his hands are free to dig into his satchel for the bounty money. The kitten continues to follow him as he heads over to the cash box and ledger in Dutch's tent. Dutch lifts his head as he notices Arthur's approach, but quickly tilts his head in confusion as he glances down at the little bundle of gray fur at Arthur's feet.

"What you got there, Arthur?" asks Dutch, pointing at the new arrival.

"Hmm? Oh. Found him. Thought he'd be a good playmate for Jack," says Arthur dismissively, focusing more on his scribbling into the job ledger.

"Well, ain't you the soft-hearted one?" Dutch muses with a slightly mocking grin before he leans over to get a good look at the kitten, reaching his ringed-fingers out to briefly pet him.

"Oh my goodness, look at that little face!" squeals Mary-Beth suddenly when she catches sight of the kitten while walking past the men. In a moment, she rushes over. She bends down and scoops up the kitten into her slender hands and snuggles him into her face. "Tilly! Come quick! Look what Arthur brought home!" she hollers over to her friend who is doing some stitching at one of the tables.

Tilly is quick to her feet and rushes over to join them, eager to see what the excitement is all about. Soon enough, a small group has started to gather around Dutch's tent to see the baby kitten.

"Awww, isn't he just the cutest!" exclaims Tilly, running her fingers over the kitten's fur. "Arthur, are we gonna keep him?" she asks him excitedly.

"Don't matter to me, but I thought Jack might like 'em," replies Arthur, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands back and watches them fawn all over the kitten.

"Jack, come here and see the kitten!" Tilly calls to Jack and Abigail and waves them over.

Jack runs over to them at the invitation, excited to see what they have for him. The second his eyes land on the tiny bundle of fur, Jack gasps with excitement and wonder, his pudgy little hands waving slightly in anticipation as he runs. Mary-Beth sets the kitten down in the grass again as Jack approaches so that the boy can play with him. And thankfully, rather than being timid and frightened by the commotion, the kitten is all too excited to play as well, absolutely loving the attention. Jack gets down on his knees and immediately starts to pet the kitten, talking and cooing to it.

"Momma! He's so soft!" he giggles.

"He sure is," agrees Abigail as she too kneels down next to Jack and reaches over to run her fingers along the tiny feline. "Be careful, though, Jack," she gently tells him. "Be gentle with him so he doesn't bite or scratch you."

"I will, Momma, I promise!" the little boy squeaks in excitement.

Standing back a few feet from the girls and Jack, Dutch and Arthur watch the happy sight.

"Good work, son," says Dutch quietly, patting Arthur on the shoulder and giving him an approving grin.

Arthur casts his eyes over at Dutch with a nod of acceptance in return. And upon seeing that his new traveling companion is in good hands now, Arthur turns and decides to head over to the fire to sit and relax his tired self.

Suddenly, despite the attention he's getting, the kitten notices Arthur moving again and instantly becomes alarmed, his little head poking up to attention. At the sight of the burly outlaw leaving him, the kitten darts away from Jack and the girls, squeezing his way between their legs, and quickly catches up to Arthur's boot-heels. Surprised, Arthur halts and looks down at the kitten.

"Now what are you doin'?" he asks the kitten. "Go on, go play with Jack," as he lowers his hand down to sweep the cat towards Jack again. He stands upright and moves on, walking over to grab a beer bottle from one of the crates. He ungracefully plunks himself down next to John on one of the logs by the fire where other gang members currently reside.

Of course, the kitten is right back behind Arthur with every step. And, of course, Jack is right behind the kitten, giggling excitedly, trying to keep up. The sight of the three of them walking about is really quite sweet; like a duck and her two ducklings tailing behind. Abigail's fingers hover gracefully over her mouth as she smiles, watching them. Arthur has always been good to both her and Jack, and Abigail is quite grateful for it. And right now, her son is just over-the-moon about his new present from his grumpy uncle. She casually walks over to the fire to join everyone, and stands behind her boy.

Sean is already sitting by the fire with Karen in his lap and notices the commotion. "Aww, would ya look at Arthur Morgan, there! The most wanted man in da tri-county area, carrin' on wit a little pussy cat," jokes Sean, "I thought you were supposed ta be da mean one 'round here, Arthur!"

"Shut it, Sean," huffs Arthur, as he reaches down and absentmindedly pats the kitten along its side when it takes a seat on the ground at his feet. "I brought him home for Jack."

"That was mighty nice of you, Arthur. Thank you," praises Abigail as she beams brightly at her son. Jack is currently crouched on the ground right next to the kitten and talking to it as if they are already the best of friends.

Arthur says nothing in response, but simply nods to her as a "you're welcome" while taking a big gulp from his beer bottle.

"Well, Jack, what are you gonna name him?" asks Hosea, his face pulling into a huge smile at the sound of the boy's laughter.

The kitten begins to playfully explore again, taking a real liking to Jack, as it climbs all over him. Its nose sniffs all about the boy's face, the softness of the fur dragging delightfully across his rosy cheeks with a ticklish effect.

"What about 'Milo'?" suggests Mary-beth, who has come to take her place by the fire as well, choosing a spot on the ground close to Jack so that she too can play with the kitten.

"Nah, he don't look like a 'Milo'" says Jack, his eyes still glued to the little cat.

"How 'bout 'Oliver'?" Abigail offers.

But Jack only scrunches his little face up even more in displeasure as he continues to think of the perfect name for his new companion.

"I suppose 'Fluffy' is out of the question, then?" jokes John as he too reaches over to wiggle his fingers in front of the kitten in an effort to join his son and play.

"No!" laughs Jack. "That's not right, either!"

The boy sits quietly, his eyebrows knit in deep thought, as if this is the most important decision he has to make in his young life. And he is quick to notice that the kitten springs into motion every time Arthur moves a muscle. When Arthur stands up to get a log for the fire, the kitten hops up and follows him. When Arthur sits, the kitten is right at his heels again.

"I'm gonna name him 'Shadow'," says Jack definitively, reaching over to pet his kitten, which is still perched at the large man's feet.

"Oh, that's a good one, Jack," his mother encourages. "'Cause he's gray?"

"No! Because he's Uncle Arthur's shadow!" says Jack emphatically at the obvious conclusion.

This observation causes Arthur to pause for a moment. His chest tightens just a bit, flattered by Jack's choice. He looks down at the kitten sitting by his boot, its little face and beautiful eyes peering back at him.

Arthur reaches down and rubs his rough and calloused fingers over Shadow's head, curling the pads of his fingertips around his velvety ears. He grins, but just ever so slightly, a softness settling there that rarely shows. "Huh…'Shadow'…I rather like that."

[4kayz]

I have a cute one, if you're interested! It kinda goes off that one headcanon of Leshy not really knowing romance, but could I please see Lesh cuddling with a reader and the feeling just...hitting him full-force for the first time? Like, he knew he was in love for a while, but this is his first time experiencing a moment of being capital-letters hopelessly IN LOVE.

♡ << LESHY X READER >> ♡

more leshy >:3

A small follower opened the extravagant door leading into the temple of the bishop, Leshy. Walking in with caution and worry in their eyes. They turned their heel to face a large, decorated, throne. Atop it sat the bishop himself, who looked distracted, his four eyes darting everywhere at once.

The little bear forced himself to speak. "My dear bishop Leshy!"

All of the bishop's eyes focused on him at once and the bear shivered in fear. There wasn't any ill intent in them, but he couldn't help but feel as if he was going to be slaughtered by daring to be in his presence.

"The bishop of famine wanted me to thank you on behalf of Anura for helping calm down the chaos of her realm"

"Aw, it was nothing..." Leshy had a content look on his face, eyes looking dazed and up to the ceiling, lost in pleasant thoughts. "Tell my beloved sister I appreciate it and that she can always let me know if she needs any help with her duties."

The follower nodded, rushing out of the temple, presumably heading back to Anura to tell Heket of his words, and the bear was out of sight. That was the last of them.

Leshy called for one of his servants, and in just a few moments, Haroym showed up. "Close the temple's doors."

They nodded and bowed their head in respect. "As you wish, Master Leshy."

And in only a moment, the doors to his temple were closed shut and he could finally relax and put his work to rest.

It had been an exhausting day, really. There were so many requests, suggestions, and work to attend to that he had no time to himself at all that day. And only one thing has been on his mind, distracting him and drawing his constant focus and attention on.

The hideout.

Leshy spent everyday for the past few weeks daydreaming about heading there while he was finishing up bothersome work and duties he hated. It made him impatient for how long he had to wait before he could meet up under that tree with his favorite person and hang out with them until the sunset.

He'd love nothing more then to be able to see you there everyday and abandon his duties just to spend time with you.

Leshy knew he cared a lot about you, and he had been playing with his thoughts, entertaining the idea that he was in love with you.

And maybe that too, was the case.

The bishop got up from his throne and brushed the dust off his robes, readying himself to see you again. Leshy summoned a pool of ichor below his feet and descending into it, warping himself to the hideout.

-

He emerged from the ichor pool, his eyes glowing a bright green color. He blinked the glow out from his eyes and returned them to normal. Leshy's feet made contact with the ground and the ichor disappeared.

The bishop walked through the field of camellia, walking over to the big oak tree in the distance. He took a moment to truly appreciate the beauty of his realm. It was gorgeous, the multitude and variety of flowers scattered around the plain-like landscape and the large amount of wildlife all over it, it was a sight to behold, and it was all created by his excellency.

Leshy stepped under the shade of the gigantic tree and looked down to see you passed out, slumping against the trunk, head tilted upwards and breathing lightly. He smiled and sat down in front of you and got a grip on your shoulders.

He shook lightly and your eyes fluttered open to meet his. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and looked up to gaze at him drowsily.

Leshy stood up and kneeled down to get a grip on your waist, pulling you up, then setting you down onto your feet.

"Leshy, you're finally here!" You exclaimed and he laughed awkwardly.

He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "Sorry I made you wait so long, I was busy dealing with some important stuff.."

You shook your head. "No, It's fine. You're a bishop, I'm sure you've got a whole load of stuff to do, it's good enough for me that you generously give up your time just to be with me!"

Leshy felt a wide smile creep onto his face and he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground a few inches. He seemed to forget that he had to keep himself standing up too and tipped over.

The two of you collided with the floor and rolled down the camellia field. With an 'oof' you looked up to see a happy bush on top of you, with his arms gripping the floor next to your abdomen.

Leshy lifted his hands off the ground and underneath you, pulling you close to him. You gladly accepted this gesture and wrapped yourself around him as well.

You rubbed his back gently while he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. This felt like nothing in the world, it felt foreign and strange to Leshy. A good kind of strange. The kind of strange that makes you feel all warm inside and fuzzy in the head. The one that makes you wish you could be like this forever.

Leshy took a minute to collect his thoughts.

From the moment he set eyes on you, he was taken aback by how beautiful and interesting you were. When he got to know you, he felt his stomach flutter whenever you spoke to him. And whenever you two hung out at the hideout, it felt like paradise for him.

Somehow, everything you did mesmerized him, and every time you two were together was nirvana.

Yeah, he was definitely in love.

[karatekels]

Hi I love ur blog and would love to make a request! I saw the list of smut sentences that u reblogged and this one really caught my eye for ck Terry🤭

❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜

I love how u write obliviously innocent readers so that aspect but mixed with the fact that reader was maybe once employed by the LaRussos🫢 terrys obsession with ruining danny gets to have a new outlet in his obsession with our sweet little reader. (Maybe Daniel finds out🤔)

Please feel free to take this wherever u want! I adore ur writing and ur creativity🫶

I really had a good time with this prompt, so thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you all enjoy! Part 2 (the day of the auction) is where the smutty stuff will come in, and it's here!

Also, I’ll take yet another opportunity to recommend green_essential’s fic in progress, “En Pointe” on Ao3 – it definitely fits the bill for this prompt as well, and maybe if I send enough of you her way she’ll update it because I’M DYING.

---

A Better Offer - Part 1

---

Strolling into the Valley’s branch of the LaRusso Auto Group, Terry Silver surveys the interior of the business with a calculated expression. In one of his perfectly tailored suits, his hair out of its signature ponytail – he didn’t want to draw attention – he looks far too wealthy to be standing in this kitschy dealership, but then, that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

Knowing that Danny Boy was training his students at the dojo today, he had decided to take this opportunity to observe the man’s place of work. One’s job was often an excellent window into the person themselves, and Terry was looking for new ways to strike out at his rival. He briefly wonders what his profession says about him, before being brought out of his thoughts by the voice of a woman taking a group of men to task.

“I need you to take the 11 o’clock and 4 o’clock meetings today, Louie. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but take it up with the boss; maybe he’ll actuallylisten to you.”

The woman was quite short, not even coming up to the shoulders of most of the men surrounding her, even in her sensible heels, but she had a commanding presence, and the man called Louie mumbled an agreement, calling her “cuz” before leaving the group.

“Anoush, I need you to take care of the incoming shipments today; we’ve got a dozen open transport trucks coming over the next 48 hours. I’d do it myself, but someone needs to fill in for Daniel at his other meetings for today; I can’t ask Louie to do them all.” She dismisses him, turning to the two remaining men.

“And you two,” she begins, her hands on her hips as she glares at them. The men seem to shrink under her gaze, and Terry finds himself both amused and impressed. “Can I trust you to shuffle the lot around to make way for the new models? Quickly? Neatly?” The men nod sheepishly, keeping their eyes down, and scamper off out the door, leaving the woman alone with her clipboard, sighing heavily.

So you were the reason this place had been able to stay in the black. Terry had been wondering about that, seeing as LaRusso seemed to be popping up everywhere these days, clearly never at work. Interesting… And had that one man referred to you as a cousin? He knew the man, Louie, was related to Daniel from his research on his old rival after coming back to Cobra Kai, but hadn’t found anything about a woman like you. You looked to be in your early twenties, and you certainly didn’t look like a LaRusso, though you definitely had the same fire within you as Danny Boy. He wondered what would set you off, and what you knew, and decided to find out.

“Can I help you?” comes your voice, friendly yet firm, and he bites his tongue to keep from smiling.

“Oh, hello. I’m looking for Daniel LaRusso,” Terry says, his tone professional and radiating innocence. “My name is –”

“You’re Terry Silver,” you reply, and Terry finds himself momentarily taken aback. It wasn’t often that someone knew him better than he knew them. “I know who you are.”

Ooh, this may be harder than anticipated.

“Ah,” Terry sighs, trying his best to look wounded. “I see Daniel is still up to his…theatrics.”

You snort in response, and Terry’s mouth turns up in a smile, seeing that you were receptive to this line of criticism regarding your boss.

“You have no idea,” you mutter to yourself, before speaking up. “I’m sorry, but he’s not here. He’s far too busy plotting your downfall these days.” Terry laughs quietly, catching you smile in response and deciding that he quite likes how it lights up your face. Maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d thought…

“Yes, well, it’s a full-time job,” he says seriously, and you snicker. “But it seems like you’ve got things very well under control here. I have to admit, I’m quite impressed by you, Miss…” he pauses to look at your nametag, “L/N.” He takes a mental note of your full name, fully intending on having someone research your life’s history as soon as possible.

“Oh, well… thank you, Mr. Silver,” you say, seeming a bit flustered.

“You seem like you’re not used to compliments or even acknowledgements of your work. That’s a shame; most business owners would be over the moon with someone like you as their assistant.” Sure, he may be laying it on a bit thick here; he needed to get information out of you, after all. But the compliment was rooted in some degree of truth – he hadn’t seen someone so competent since Margaret.

“Really?” you ask, seeming skeptical.

“Indeed. You know, if you’re ever looking for a job that gives you a bit more credit, I’m always hosting some event or another. In fact, I’m looking for a coordinator for a charity auction for underprivileged children taking place in a couple of months, if you’d be interested…”

“The one for Eva Garcia’s charity?” you ask, excitement in your voice. Terry is surprised that you’ve even heard of Eva, wondering exactly who you are, and nods in response to your question, finding himself increasingly interested in you for more than just the intel you could provide about LaRusso.

“Yes, Eva is an old friend, and asked for a favour. I’m having trouble finding someone reliable to help me with the organization of the event; you seem like you would be more than capable of handling it, based on what I’ve seen of you this morning…”

“Wow…” you breathe, and he thinks he’s in for an easy victory, but then you bite your lip, your forehead creasing as you consider the ramifications of agreeing to work for him. LaRusso definitely seemed to be stressing everyone out with his vendetta against Cobra Kai. “I really appreciate the offer, Mr. Silver, but I’m not sure…”

“I understand your reluctance, Ms. L/N, I really do. I am the enemy, after all,” he jokes, giving you a cheeky grin. “If it allays your worries at all, this wouldn’t be a full time thing, or rather, it wouldn’t have to be. But I’d be happy to help you connect with other, less nefarious benefactors at the event so that you could wash your hands of me, if you’d wish to…”

You bite your lip again, this time to stave off a giggle, and he smiles down at you warmly. “Why don’t you talk to Daniel about it? It looks like he just walked in,” he suggests, sounding friendly.

You turn to look over your shoulder, and he follows suit, taking great glee in watching Danny Boy’s face as he takes in the two of you talking and laughing together. Smirking over your head, Terry winks at Daniel, smiling wolfishly and trying not to laugh; he can practically see the steam coming out of the other man’s ears. Terry puts a friendly hand on your shoulder, reclaiming your attention once more, and you smile sheepishly at him.

“Talk to him, and take some time if you need, alright? You won’t hurt my feelings.”

Better set himself apart from LaRusso as much as possible.

“I’ll leave you my card, alright? It’s got my personal number and address. If you decide you want to give this a try, just let me know. I’d love to work with you,” he enthuses, catching you fighting back a smile. “I’ll get out of your hair now, though – good luck with Daniel,” he says sincerely, his voice thick with implications.

Stepping around you, he makes to leave the dealership, waiting until you and Danny Boy were focused on each other before finding a place out of sight to sit, pretend to check his phone, and shamelessly eavesdrop. Time to watch the show.

--- Reader’s POV ---

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your confidence. You were a grown woman, you could ask your boss to have a civil conversation. Of course, most people weren’t employed by a close family friend; a family friend who was like a surrogate uncle to you, and who had become more than a little unhinged lately when it came to the whole karate thing.

Still, he owed you for practically running the damn dealership over these last few months. And he couldn’t exactly keep you from spending your own time how you wanted, right? Mr. Silver had presented you with an incredible offer, and you’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity, no matter what Daniel would have to say on the matter. And it looked like he would have a lot to say, you think to yourself as Daniel approaches you, a scowl on his face.

“Hey, Daniel!” you say, trying to start things off on a positive note. “I didn’t know you were coming in today!”

But Daniel wasn’t having any of your distractions. “Y/N, do you know who you were just talking to? Who that was? That’s Terry Silver, you have to stay away from that guy!”

“Oh, was it?” you ask, your face a mask of surprise. Better to play dumb, I guess.

“What did he want? What did you say to him?” You try not to get angry at the accusatory tone he’s using with you, like you’ve given out industry secrets or his social security number or something. You weren’t an idiot, and while you thought that Daniel was likely exaggerating more than a little bit about the lengths Terry Silver would go to when it came to his dojo, you didn’t plan on giving anything of importance away to the older man, no matter what opportunities he afforded you.

“We weren’t even talking about you, Daniel, calm down. He actually offered me a really amazing opportunity to help him put together a charity event, just as a side gig –” Daniel cuts you off with a snort.

“Yeah right. That’s not happening.” You feel your jaw drop. Sure, Daniel was very protective of you, but to outright forbid you from doing something was ridiculous.

“Excuse me?” you ask, insulted.

“You don’t honestly think I’d let you go work for that scumbag, do you?” he scoffs, and you start to see red. Family friend or no, boss or no, no one talked down to you like this.

“I’m not a child, Daniel, and more importantly, I’m not your responsibility,” you seethe, hardly able to believe he’s talking to you like this at all, let alone in the middle of work.

“I’ve worked damn hard for you to make sure that this place stays afloat, even after everything – do you know how many times I’ve had to cover for you? Sent someone else to deal with a client or dealt with them myself while you were off playing ‘kung fu warrior?’”

“ – Now, Y/N – ” he tries to interrupt, but he started this. The floodgates have been opened, and now you’re getting this off of your chest.

“And this whole time you’ve been acting like you’ve been doing me a favour, giving me this job! I don’t need your charity, Mr. LaRusso, and not nearly as much as you need me. Someone actually sees my value for once, and offers me the opportunity to move up in my career –”

“He’s just trying to take you away from me!”

“I’m not yours to be taken from! Do you really see the world like this, like the Sun and everything else revolves around you? Mr. Silver has done nothing to me but offer me a job – my dream job, working with people that I’ve always wanted to meet. Even if he was using me to hurt you, this is an opportunity to boost my career. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, or bruises your precious ego, but that’s only because you’re letting it! People don’t belong to you, Daniel. I don’t belong to you.”

“He’s going to hurt you –”

“How could he possibly hurt me more than you already have?” you ask, hating the shakiness your voice takes on. You were furious with Daniel, but you knew that he meant well and was just trying to protect you. Still, treating you like a child, like his child, was ridiculous, and to try to keep you from taking advantage of what Mr. Silver was offering you made your blood boil.

“The psychological torture alone –”

“I’m not some naïve kid he’s tricked with some flashy karate moves!” you scream at him, knowing that you were hitting a little below the belt, perhaps, but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been this angry.

“He’s approached me – as himself, no disguises – and asked me to do this. It’s one job, and it could open so many doors for me – you know that, with all the events you and Amanda go to. Even if he his somehow trying to use me to hurt you, the least you could do is let me use him and benefit from this too! And if you can’t understand or respect that; if you can’t get over yourself, I quit.”

Your stomp off, leaving him in the middle of the dealership, looking shaken. Quickly, you collect your belongings from your office and leave without looking back. You didn’t want to lose your resolve, and seeing your surrogate uncle’s puppy dog eyes would definitely gnaw at your conscience.

Hopping in your car, you turn the key in the ignition, whipping out your phone and a certain business card. Adding the number to your contacts, you send a quick text message, and receive one promptly in return:

It’s Y/N L/N. Today work for a meeting? I can be there in half an hour.

Absolutely. See you soon.

With that confirmation, you peel out of the dealership, heading to the nicer neighbourhoods of L.A. and hopefully, greener pastures.

---

“Ah, Ms. L/N. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show,” Terry says, greeting you as one of his staff leads you into an office. The space was well lit, open, and as comfortable as it was luxurious, nothing like the dank dungeon Daniel had had you imagining as you drove over.

“Sorry, I got held up at my former place of employment,” you reply, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. It wouldn’t do to carry over your feelings of resentment to this new job, especially not on the first day. Terry surveys you, clearly having picked up on your emotional turmoil, and gives you a comforting yet concerned look.

“What happened? I was under the impression that you were rather close to the LaRussos.”

“Daniel seems to think we’re closer than we are. He tried to lecture me, keep me from coming here and taking this job. So, I quit. But let’s not dwell on it and get to work.” You flop into one of the comfortable chairs in the office, determined not to let Daniel ruin this opportunity for you.

You take out a clipboard, tearing out pages regarding scheduling for the dealership with a great deal of irritation, and grab a pen, starting to brainstorm some things to ask your new employer about what he was envisioning for the event, trying to ignore the fact that your hand is shaking as you write.

“Are you alright, Ms. L/N? We don’t need to rush into this, there’s still plenty of time before the auction.” Terry has moved from his seat behind the desk and approached you, looking down at you, and you appreciate that his eyes hold only kindness, not judgement or annoyance.

“No no, it’s fine. I’m sorry, this is so unprofessional of me. And please, just call me Y/N.”

“Would it help to talk about it? It seems that this is all because of me; the least I can do is listen, if it would help –”

“I don’t know, Mr. Silver –”

“Call me Terry, Y/N,” he corrects you. You smile slightly at him.

“Terry. It’s not your problem to solve.”

He nods slightly, seeming to accept this, and takes a seat in the chair across from yours, leaning forward towards you, his long legs closing the distance between you.

“You know, I went to therapy years ago; decades now, I suppose, to help me work things out. I had a lot of anger, a lot of pain. What I found helped me the most was just voicing it out loud – getting it out in the open rather than letting things bottle up. I’m not saying that you need to share things with me, but I will say I’m more than happy to listen, Y/N.”

You look over at him, taking in his words and the way he’s looking at you with his kind blue eyes. No one had ever offered to just sit and listen to you before, and now this man that you’d be told to fear and despise was encouraging you to prioritize yourself over anything else.

“I owe a lot to the LaRussos,” you begin quietly, and he smiles warmly as you agree to open up, looking pleased with you. “He, Daniel, is basically a surrogate uncle to me; I’ve known him since I was little. He was really good friends with my dad, and our families did everything together. Him and Amanda helped our family when my parents got laid off, and when I came back here after my family moved to Texas, they set me up with my job. Well, my old job now, I guess…” you trail off, thinking about everything the family had done for you. Had you made a big mistake?

“It’s just…frustrating…feeling like you’re indebted to someone all the time. I’m very grateful to Daniel, but sometimes he comes across like he’s a godsend to everyone in his circle of influence, and that we’re all meant to be loyal soldiers for whatever fight he feels like taking on. I was happy to take on more responsibilities at the dealership for him while he was off doing… whatever he was doing, but he never even acknowledged my work. He didn’t appreciate it, he didn’t care until I told him I was wanting to take on this job with you, and even then it was only because he thought it was all about him and you taking him from me. Like there was no other reason why you could possibly want me to work for you…”

Terry considers what you’ve told him, looking at you thoughtfully. You’re not sure why, but you’re awaiting his response with bated breath.

“You are right, you know. I didn’t decide to hire you because I wanted to take you from Daniel. I merely wanted to offer you an additional opportunity since I was so impressed with what I saw of your work there. But it does seem quite evident from what you’ve told me that you were the lynchpin in keeping his business afloat. I’d imagine that Danny Boy feels very overwhelmed right now with everything going on, and now losing the person that was helping him keep everything together… I think I can understand why he’s reacting like this.”

You blink. “You’re saying that you agree with Daniel? Why? You hate each other!” Terry frowns at your comment.

“Is that what he’s said about me?”

“He hasn’t said much, but we were able to glean that from the pieces we’ve picked up and put together.”

“What exactly is the story you know?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. You quickly summarize what you know: lying to Daniel as a kid, putting him through aggressive training that left him angry and with bloody knuckles, baiting him into fights and being all-in-all manipulative. Terry whistles lowly when you’ve finished.

“And you still agreed to come work for me?”

“Well, I haven’t gotten any vibes that you were psychotic – not yet, anyway,” you say teasingly, and his lips quirk in response. “Plus, I’ve always believed that everyone should be evaluated on their own merit. You’ve been nothing but kind to me so far, and I have no reason to believe you’d be lying about the job – oh, jeez, the job! We haven’t even gotten started yet!” you exclaim, feeling horribly unprofessional.

“I consider laying the foundation of trust with the people I’m working with to be a very important part of work, Y/N,” Terry says, not seeming at all bothered by how your meeting has gone so far. “Still, if you’re worried about the time we’ve spent so far, perhaps we could talk about the auction over dinner?”

“D-Dinner?” you stammer, suddenly feeling nervous. Terry picks up on this, and works to reassure you immediately.

“Nothing untoward, Miss L/N, I assure you,” he says smoothly. “I merely thought we could save time and discuss things a bit longer together without working you into the ground. I’d prefer to work here, as this is where the event will be taking place and I want you to be familiar with it, but if you’d feel more comfortable at a different venue, we can of course go somewhere else.”

You think over his offer, a lot of other thoughts coming to mind as well. You felt you could trust Terry to keep things professional, though you do feel a slight hit to your ego at the thought that he didn’t see you as a romantic prospect. He was an incredibly attractive and charming man, and even though you also wanted your relationship to be a professional one, being dismissed as an option – even as kindly as Terry had just done – stung.

“Dinner here would be lovely, Terry, thank you.”

---

In the weeks leading up to the auction, you visited Terry’s estate regularly, at least three times a week, and were in constant communication with him over the phone or emails. You had developed a good professional relationship and worked well together, putting together what looked to be a very successful event. During your time together, you had formed a friendship with the man as well; your dinners together were now largely about learning about one another rather than discussing the auction, and you found that despite the age difference (as well as all of the other differences) you had quite a lot in common. You had no close friends or family in the Valley at the moment, still on the outs with the LaRussos, and apart from the senseis involved with Cobra Kai, Terry didn’t seem to have anyone here either. You had both come to appreciate your time together, free of karate drama or anything else, and talking to him about anything and everything had quickly become your favourite pastime.

The auction was taking place the next day, and while you were excited for it, you were also dreading the thought of the event being over. You knew that you had developed quite the crush on Terry, and while you weren’t going to act on it – he had made the boundaries of your relationship very clear, that first day – the thought of not having a reason to talk with him everyday had your heart aching already. You know that Terry had said he’d be happy to work on projects with you in the future, nothing was guaranteed. All you could do was make sure that everything was perfect tomorrow, so that maybe Terry would want to keep you around as much as you wanted to be there.

[cosmictapestry]

Greetings! I may or may not have read my way through the Morphienne masterpost in a single weekend without ever having read the ship before. I absolutely adored all of them! If you are still taking requests, might I ask for A40? Possibly including (nearly) getting caught? If it fits?

All the good vibes your way and thank you very, very kindly for introducing me to this lovely ship!

A40. exhibitionism

oooooooo we got another one folks 😤😤😤😤😤

if you'd like some context to The Arrangement + Actual Writing you might be interested in my fic series we, divinity :D

prompt list + fills here

Watching Lord Morpheus create new dreams is a rare joy for Lucienne. Usually she cannot spare the time to visit the Shores of Creation while he is there, and even if she can, he has asked to be left alone in recent millennia. His tolerance for company is as reduced as she remembers, but he makes exception for her, as he does in many things.

So today she lounges on the uncharacteristically sunny seashore, sprawled on a blanket on a low dune behind him. The sea is usually hostile and draws few visitors, likely by Lord Morpheus's own design. Today it is still and peaceful and the air is warm. He hasn't spoken or looked over his shoulder—he is quite engrossed in the gleaming blob of molten glass in front of him—but he manifested the blanket and a few pillows and even one of her favorite novels as soon as she arrived.

Lucienne watches his hair and robes shift with the gentle breeze, the sharp edge of his jaw drawn in concentration. His hands occasionally begin a flurry of activity, coaxing forward sand with broad beckoning gestures, inevitably tapering down to measured crooks of the finger that change the shape of the almost-being in front of him. His hands flex and caress the air, manipulating the raw dreamstuff, sinking into the heat of its burgeoning life, draw forth what could be a shudder from his newest creation.

"Lucienne," her lord growls. He glares over his shoulder at her. There is color to his cheeks, from the wind or the sun or her wandering mind. "Will you please behave."

Lucienne draws one knee up to her chest, rests her cheek on it and blinks up at him innocently. "I'm only watching."

"You are doing so salaciously," he retorts, and he turns back to his work with his shoulders drawn up close to his ears.

"Salaciously," Lucienne repeats, tongue curling over the syllables. "An excellent word, your grace."

This he does not dignify with a response. He resumes his earlier motions, the movement of his arms drawing Lucienne's attention to the long, lean lines of his back. She thinks of the scratches she left there last night and the shifting of lithe muscle under her hands.

No reaction from her lord. He crooks his finger delicately, swirls it through the air to carve into one gemlike facet of the molten glass creation. Lucienne thinks of the other day, when he pulled her off to some forgotten nook of the castle, placed his fingers in her mouth and had her suck, then slipped that hand down the front of her trousers.

A little flinch, the flex of his hand and sharp intake of breath, but this could just as easily be any other disturbance as it could be her. The idea is fairly frustrating. She glares at his back and she thinks very loudly about him, the curl of his tongue and the softness of his skin and the pitch of his voice on the edge of orgasm.

Still no apparent result. Lucienne sighs, and she begins to unbutton her waistcoat.

Lord Morpheus does react now, his posture stiffening, his head tilting, but he doesn't turn or say a word.

Lucienne pulls her coat off, folds it and lays it in the sand beside her spread blanket. She repeats the process with her shirt. Her eyes stay trained on his back as she undoes her trousers.

Finally, he speaks, annoyed and hoarse. "I won't hide you if someone passes by."

She grins and hums, unbothered.

"Of course you like that," he mutters, and he raises his hand to his face, presses thumb and pointer finger to his closed eyelids. The tips of his ears are pink. "Lucienne. What are you doing."

Lucienne just lifts her hips to shimmy her trousers down her legs, takes them off alongside her shoes to lay them beside her other garments. She's left in her brassiere and knickers, subtly different shades of purple. "Please, don't let me interrupt you, my lord."

Her lord groans. His jaw is tense with the effort it's taking him not to either send her back to the castle or—whatever else it is he'd like to do.

The sun is warm on Lucienne's skin. She turns her face up to the sky and stretches her arms up too. There was no sunlight or warmth in the time her lord was gone. She doesn't think she'll ever get enough of it now. With a luxuriant sigh she reaches behind her, unclasps her brassiere, shrugs it off and sets it to the side. She runs one hand up her belly, brings it to rest on her right breast, begins to knead it slowly.

Lord Morpheus makes a valiant effort to ignore her. His hands are shaking now as he draws them through the air.

Lucienne watches. Her breast is heavy in her hand, golden in the sunshine, nipple large and dark and beginning to pebble with her attention. She gives a breathy sigh, only a little performative. She wishes it was his mouth instead of her hand, suckling a little constellation of marks around her nipple, or his own big hands, cooler than hers.

She leans back, propped up on one hand, closing her eyes and feeling the plush give of the sand under her blanket, her own flesh spilling between her fingers, the heat of the sun and her body and his presence. The hand on her breast gives her nipple one last tweak and then slides down, over the swell of her belly, down past the hem of her knickers.

Her lord's shoulders lift and fall with a slow, measured breath. He crosses his arms over his chest to hide his hands now.

Lucienne pets over the hood of her clit, feeling the velvet softness nestled in her curls. She rubs in lazy circles, teasing the way he likes to. He likes to draw her pleasure out, make it build and last. She tries to emulate it now, the way his fingertips would dip into her folds, the heel of his palm firm on her clit and grinding there.

"Not so rough," Lord Morpheus murmurs. "There's no rush."

A victorious grin that she bites down on but can't quite keep out of her voice. "There is, if I hope to finish before I'm caught."

"I think that's a risk you're willing to take," he says, and she laughs. "If you insist on tormenting me you'd best make the most of it."

Lucienne coos sympathetically. "I'm not trying to torment you." She hooks her thumbs in the hem of her knickers and pulls them off, leaving her entirely bare. He still won't look at her. "You are the one ignoring me."

His resistance lasts for approximately five more seconds. Finally, with a weary sigh, he turns to face her, flushed but expressionless. His eyes stay trained on hers, not wandering over her chest or down between her legs—she spreads them wide to try and draw his attention, but no luck. She can't help but pout. "Am I truly bothering you?"

Lord Morpheus has the audacity to roll his eyes. He steps aside, revealing the molten glass of his creation, now slick-smooth and curvaceous, burning with a warm internal light, an uncurling flower between its legs. "Yes."

Lucienne laughs, and she gives her folds a wet pat, finally drawing his gaze down where she wants it. His nostrils flare as he watches her fingers circle over her swollen, slick flesh, vibrant as any flower. "More an inspiration than a bother, perhaps."

His tongue darts to wet his lips. "Perhaps."

She leans back on her hand, her chin tipped up, her knees up and spread far, half-desperate and half-satisfied. "I've made a mess," she murmurs, beckoning him with her shining fingers. "Help me clean up?"

Her lord does not hesitate now. He approaches her seat on the dune, drops to his knees in the black sand, takes her hand into his own, then brings it to his mouth. His red tongue curls hot over her fingers, cleans them in broad strokes, then in tiny kittenish licks. Done, he places that hand back on her breast, moves his own hands to grip her legs. "Play with yourself again," he murmurs. "I didn't get to see."

Lucienne giggles, and she does as he asks, teasing touches on her nipple while he watches. He keeps his eyes there while he kisses her raised knee and begins to work his way down her inner thigh in tiny, searing kisses. With the hand not holding her up quite busy, she can't tangle her fingers in his hair the way he likes, but she reckons that's probably fine, given how rapt his attention is on her.

Her lord holds her gaze until his tongue touches her heat. Then his eyes flutter shut, his brows drawing together in quiet ecstasy. His hands slide down her outer thighs, down to knead at her arse, up around her hips to grip her and draw her impossibly closer to his mouth, sealed hot over her clit.

He stays there, suckling at her, tonguing at her cunt like there's nowhere he'd rather be. Lucienne watches him, feels him, feels herself, and mentally marks the efficacy of bothering him while he is working to be quite high. "Oh, you are gorgeous," she whispers to him, and she does abandon her chest to pet back his hair, to feel him hum, sweet and pleased. "So good, love."

She feels him smile, his cheek soft where he nuzzles it against her leg, his hands petting up her sides, stroking plush flesh, waking all her body and blood. She leans back on her elbow, face tipped to the sun, the breeze soft on her skin, her king eager between her legs, and she thinks she's not been quite so content in a very, very long time.

"Matthew is on his way here," Lord Morpheus says quite suddenly, his breath a hot puff that makes her jolt.

Lucienne sits up. "What?!"

"Well, wait," he mutters, pulls her hips forward to get her back in position. "Let me finish you, first."

"My lord!" Lucienne squeals, but she can't deny the thrill of it, and she's laughing while he puts his mouth back on her, swatting at him gently while he laps at her and works her back into a rigid bow under the swipe of his tongue. "You're a menace," she wheezes, and he growls in agreement, kissing until she comes, shivering and grinding on his face.

When the white noise fades she hears wingbeats. She gasps and she rushes to cover his breasts with shaking, sweating arms, only to find them clothed again, all her garments back in perfect place. Lord Morpheus stands with his back to her, hands waving through the air, as though nothing at all had happened.

Matthew alights beside Lucienne on the blanket, prattling on about something or other that he thought probably warranted interrupting their king at work. Lucienne checks the bitterness of this line of thought with no small amount of amusement. She is content, now, too, watching her lord painstakingly edit a creation that still looks suspiciously like her.