#would be better if it didn’t melt but not catching fire is an important safety standard!

[tj-crochets]

So the good news is whatever safety measures are part of my computer charger worked! The bad news is it is no longer a functional charger. It’s a little too melted to work

[flowerwrites06]

coin flip I — jhs

Plot: A trained spy and assassin has to choose between his power-hungry brother and the benevolent Queen he’s falling in love with. 

Pairing(s): Butler/Spy!Hoseok x Queen!OC (Name: Rosyne) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 10k

Genre: Royal | Angst | Smut 

Tags & Warnings: angst, nudity, explicit smut, pregnancy, hidden pregnancy, violence, minor character death 

Authors Note: fiNALLy managed to get some time to repost fics again. I know a few people really wanted this back so I hope you like it! 

The scene in between these ‘ ***** ’ are flashbacks. 

Kingdom of Wisteria took down their bright lavenders and hydrangeas, replacing them with wilted flowers to mourn the death of King Eirin. Instead of the vast streets of purples onlookers now welcomed browns and ash from the scared fires to send the royal spirit off to his rightful place in the afterlife. Though even with all these ceremonies, one question always swirled in the peoples’ minds whenever a leader died. When will the heir take her throne?

Rosyne has her legs hidden under her long, black dress as she sits on the cold wooden floors of the throne room. The black veil still over her head creating a safety blanket from the world. White handkerchief crumpled in her hand had light stains of pink from her makeup while the empty deep purple velvet throne towers over her even though it was a few feet away. “He left me too quickly.” She sniffles. “I don’t even know what happens in a coronation.”

Behind her stood the crown princess’ trusted butler and close advisor, Hoseok, hands clasps together as he watches her break down in front of him. “It’s just formalizing what you’ve already been doing.”

She scoffs lightly. “And what’s that?”

“Being a leader. You were a kind and just princess. All that’s changed is the title.” Hoseok raises his shoulders.

Puffy, teared out eyes stare up at the throne again feeling her head ache just by looking at all the history. All the responsibility riddled in that piece of jewellery. “A Queen has to be more than kind and just. She has to be—brutal but passive. Fearful but loved.” Rosyne couldn’t help but wince at the confusion of it all, eyes closing to calm herself down.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Hoseok takes a few steps forward and sits down on the floor right next to her until their shoulders press against each other. “That’s why Royals have councils. To ensure you’re making the right decision.” He lowers his voice to a soft tone, leaning in, a light scent of rose lingering from her clothing. “Right now, the kingdom is vulnerable and it needs a leader more than any time ever.”

“That’s not making me feel better.”

“Well…I’ll be there by your side if that helps.” Hoseok presses his palm on the floor just behind her so he could close more distance between them. “Does that feel better?”

Rosyne turns her head causing their noses to brush despite the veil between them. “A little.” She smiles albeit with a tad bit of exhaustion.

Expression softening, Hoseok gently tugs at the veil to push it over her head so he could see her face properly. The corners of his lips stretches into a grin. It was strange to be this close to one another in the throne room of all places when their usual locations were her bedroom or her private quarters deep in the garden. A sense of adrenaline and freedom rushes through him. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss on her lips, brief but it still warmed his entire body being able to touch her so freely.

Whatever nerves twisted under Rosynes’ skin quickly melted as their lips touched. “I need to find new allies.” She mutters almost in a whisper due to their close proximity. “Wisteria might not be in trouble right now but news would have spread that a new inexperienced royal is on the throne.” Her gaze moves to face the throne again but Hoseok keeps his on the crown princess.

“Where are you thinking?”

Rosyne shakes her head slowly, taking a deep breath. “It’s hard to tell. No one’s reached or contacted the kingdom yet.”

Hoseok brushes away the loose strands from her face, tracing the back of his fingers down her temple. “We’ll figure it out as we go.” Fingers sneaks behind her neck as he took advantage of their lonesome and pulled her in for another kiss.

Unfortunately he spoke far too soon when the double doors of the throne room thud open. The pair immediately detach prematurely and shift away from one another so they sat at a decent distance.

“Your Majesty…”

Rosyne looks over her shoulder and sees Kiku who had her hair in a neat bun, black gloves and physicians robe. “What is it?”

“Are you ready to give a private farewell?”

It didn’t dawn on her that she had to face him again and say goodbye. Finally coming to terms that it was her turn to take over the kingdom. Whether that was an exciting moment or a terrifying moment was still up for debate.

-

Moonlight peeks through the trees, light mist forming from the cold as Hoseok tightens his grip on the thick cloak adorning his body. Curling his palms he blew hot air onto the skin trying to keep himself from freezing to death. If he could just go back and sleep again, feeling Rosynes’ warmth against him while her breathing soothed him back to relaxation.

Can’t think about that. Not here.

Padding deeper into the forest, the trees starts to thin out and he catches the grey stone hugged by green vines and moss. The ground beneath looked like it used to be a gorgeous floor but now the soil consumed back to its original state. Or least a broken type of it. Once in a time, this used to be a majestic palace. But nature takes everything that dies and renews with its own beauty.

Rosyne would love a place like this. She would want to plant flowers in the soil and turn into a garden for people to admire. She was good at it. Bringing more light into something that was broken.

Much to his discontent, Hoseok had to push down those warm thoughts when he saw the three cloaked figures standing in the middle of the former hall. As soon as they heard the twigs crunch, their bodies turn to face him.

“What’s the news?” Namjoon, standing in the middle speaks.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Hoseok retorts.

Namjoon didn’t look all too happy about the response so all the male could do was sigh and dive back into professionalism.

“The King is officially dead. Rosyne will be taking the throne soon.” He doesn’t keep any emotion in his voice. Almost like a tranquil creature unable to feel but only take orders and provide information.

“But?”

“But she will be looking for allies.”

“Not a bad decision.” Namjoon nods to himself. “Not a good one either.”

“The kingdom is always the most vulnerable when royals are moving from one to another.” Hoseok wanted to leave. He wished he could run away right now and warn Rosyne but he felt a heaviness on his shoulders keeping him grounded.

“Especially with a soft Queen like Rosyne.”

Hoseoks’ expression hardened. “We shouldn’t mistake kindness for softness. It can be powerful tool.”

“That’s why your influence on her is so important.” He walks forward and holds onto his shoulders, squeezes it gently. “The way she dotes on you and your opinion will come in very handy, Hoseok. Bonus now that you’ve bedded her already.”

“I didn’t bed her for that purpose.” His gaze burned into the male.

“Of course you didn’t.” Namjoon chuckles. “But it still happened and now she has a connection to you.”

“Perhaps we should not speak of the Queen in this manner.” Seokjin speaks up from the right, looking a little concerned at how loosely Rosyne is being spoken of. Something Hoseok always admired about their oldest brother.

Namjoon only grins in response clearly not taking the warning seriously by any means. “Alright, I’ll stop.” He speaks as he glances over his shoulder before facing Hoseok again. “You’ve done well, my friend. Be ready for our arrival.”

Friend sounds a lot like puppet when Namjoon speaks it to him. Not that Hoseok could be angry at it. It was the truth. He was his damn puppet.

“I’ll be ready.” Hoseok lies one more time.

*****

Tiptoeing through the wet ground, he tries to avoid the twigs and dry leaves as best as he could. Hoseoks’ hair was damp, matted to his temples and his breathing, calm and patterned to his control. Eyes fixates on the majestic creature. Golden pelt with transparent antlers gleaming against the sunlight and forming rainbow patterns. It really was pretty.

His stomach then rumbled violently, twisting and reminding that it wasn’t that pretty. Pretty things always faded in time. Hunger didn’t. So Hoseok pulls on the tight string until it reaches just under his eye. Closing one of them, he manages to perfect his aim. Heartbeat slowed to his command.

Waiting.

Waiting for the right moment.

The creatures’ head shoots up, lilac eyes fixates on their hunter. Almost as if it knows that it is time to die. Circle of life.

“Stop! Don’t!” A high, shrill voice echoes through the trees immediately startling the deer.

Hoseok pushes the bow back watching a figure standing before him, shielding the creature as it ran off deep into the forest. He watches it hopelessly disappear amongst the trees. His stomach rumbles to the point of pain. “Thanks a lot.” He groans.

“You can’t just kill a gold deer.” The voice now moves to something soft and smooth. Like silk underneath his fingers.

Hoseok eyes finally focuses on the figure, his tongue almost clips. Long, beautiful brunette hair with deep violet eyes. A waft of lavender radiating from her body giving him some kind of warmth in his chest while her lips, so soft looking and pink tinted. “I do if I need to eat.” He replies albeit with less annoyance.

“Gold deer’s are very rare…” The beautiful lady speaks again with a patient tone. “…almost extinct.”

“So?” Why did he feel so goddamn bad saying that?

“So they are part of this forest’s ecosystem we can’t kill them.”

“I’m still hungry.”

She sighs, reaching into her brown satchel and pulling a white bag. “Bread and cheese can suffice, yes?” The beauty hands the bag to him. “What’re you doing in this forest anyway?”

Hoseok feels even more guilty for being angry when he smells the freshness steaming from the food. “I’m here for a job.” He speaks softly.

“A job?” She tilts her head, closing her satchel.

“The princess’ butler position.”

The beauty’s head moves up quickly in curiosity, eyes glimmering along with her golden skin in the humidity surrounding them. “You want to work for the princess?”

“Yeah.” There was a reluctance in his voice but he hoped the girl wouldn’t notice. “She’s always had a good reputation.”

“Like a pushover.” She scoffs walking over to the flower patches the deer was standing next to earlier. Tiny spots of pink and yellow crowded amongst weeds.

Hoseok quietly observes her small actions as she crouches down near the flowers, merely caressing it like she was checking on it. “She’s arranged the most alliances ever known in royal history before even becoming Queen. Lessened crimes. All through her diplomacy.”

“You seem to have a high regard for her.” Her words were more of a mumble but Hoseok manages to catch them.

“Good future Kings and Queens are hard to find.” Hoseok sits down on a nearby rock, unwrapping the white bag taking a slice of cheese and taking a small bite. “It’s nice to know we’re living in a time of one.” His stomach twists again in intense satisfaction from being hungry for so long. The nutty flavor of the food gracing his taste buds.

She leaves a small silence between them while her eyes admired the flowers again. Hoseok could have sworn that she was reassuring them that no deaths were made on these grounds. Something about that thought causes him to smile.

“I’m sure the princess would be happy to have you.” He heard the smile in her voice.

His stomach began to tingle with something other than hunger.

*****

Morning faded with a slight chill but the sun was strong enough to bear it. The closed circle gathered around in the throne room along with a new banner colour hung on the pillars. Rosyne couldn’t recognize the sigil of the Raven. Maybe a lost or a very small kingdom that wasn’t taught in history books too often.

She relaxes herself on the throne even it still prickles at her back. The last time Rosyne remembers sitting on this chair, it was when her legs couldn’t even reach the floor. When ruling the kingdom seemed like a fleeting goal just hovering over her head. Rosyne reaches out slowly and finds familiar fingers locking onto hers.

“You’ll be alright.” Hoseok whispers the lie to soothe her, even for a few seconds. His heart pounding through his ribcages and clenching so tight it made it difficult to breathe. This was what you set out for. The ultimate goal.

Once the double doors open, their fingers separate as they watch seven figures walk into the throne room, bursting in shades of black, red and white. Two figures in the middle, a man dressed in a velvet red coat while the woman was wearing a white, diamond encrusted gown. The woman has a slight limp as she walked if Rosyne focuses enough.

Blond hair a little over his left brow, the man in the middle—who she assumes would be King Namjoon—speaks with a soft smile. “Good morning, Queen Rosyne.” He bows a little. “I am pleased that you agreed to meet me.”

“Making alliances is always a good start for a peaceful world.” Rosyne smiles, deep violet eyes popping against the lavender dress she adorned.

Namjoons’ grin widens. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

As much as Rosyne wants to keep the pleasantries going, she knew no King or Queen ever liked wasting their time far too much. “What are your terms then, Prince?” She keeps a decent smile on her face.

“My kingdom is small.” He presses a hand to his chest. “However my military power and ancestral influence runs deep and vast.”

“Yes I’ve heard your numbers surpass many kingdoms.” At least that was the minimal information Hoseok gave her in the short amount of time they had.

“Therefore—”

Hoseok takes in a deep breath and holds it in his lungs as Namjoon leaves a silence in the throne room. He tries his best not to face Kiku even though he could notice her glance towards him.

“—I might have to ask for a certain—proposition.”

Rosyne narrows her gaze but keeps a certain softness to her expression. “Proposition?”

“My spymasters have seen many whispers about possible threats and assassinations on your Majesty’s life.” Namjoon gestures behind him towards a honey blond man with plump lips and smaller frame. With piercing eyes like his, Rosyne assumed he could catch anything out of place. “If I handed my forces to you then it may help a worst case scenario.”

“I appreciate the protection.” Rosyne grins giving him an acknowledging nod. “But what must I give you in return?”

Hoseoks’ fingers twitch still feeling her touch warm on his skin. So warm and comforting, bringing him all the peace he ever wanted. Then something twists in his stomach when he notices Namjoon take a breath to speak again.

“Your throne.”

Rosyne couldn’t even catch the council bursting into their baffled murmurs. Her body grew hot, fingers trembling against the wood of the chair arm but she tries to maintain a calm face. She was not connected to the throne by her hip. The only thing connected to it that she loved was her father but he was gone.

“Care to elaborate, Prince Kim?” She tries to drag it on a little more. Maybe breathe in for a while longer to calm herself.

“You will have the title as Queen…” Namjoon waves his hand. “—but I will need to take the reins if we were to protect this vulnerable kingdom effectively.”

Her kingdom was vulnerable. Military forces lesser than it usually was. If she disagrees and disrespects him somehow then there was no telling whether Namjoon will take it by force. Which would bring her back to the original fear in her mind.

Rosyne gulps down before immediately giving the male a kind smile. “Give me some time to think about this.”

Namjoons’ grin stretches wider. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

-

Rosyne tries not to rush out of the throne room too fast. She manages to keep herself steady until they reach the hallway, her body loosens. Back rests against the wall as her chest rises and falls, deep breaths stuck inside her lungs now pushing out in light heaves. Hand came up to her belly trying to caress it gently. She had no choice. There was no choice.

She notices a figure coming towards her until he stands in front of her.

“Very forward request.” Hoseok comments towards Namjoon, foolishly trying to keep a farce when the confidence inside him was slowly crumbling.

“Yes it was…” Rosyne breathes out. “…but—”

“But?”

“Hoseok…” Rosyne swallows down the light lump in her throat. Her fathers’ words replying in her head. She needed to protect this kingdom. What if that meant giving it up for its’ own good? “I might have to agree.” Her voice rung low and almost meek but Hoseok always catches her voice.

“What?” Part of it was pretending but a small part of him still wonders. What would make her agree to giving the kingdom away?

“The kingdom is vulnerable, you were right.” She sighs, reaching out and holding onto his hand again. Whenever the heat gets to her head Rosyne finds momentary peace playing with his fingers and watch them intertwine with her own. “Now more than ever. We need their help.”

“He’ll take over the kingdom, Rosyne.” Desperation laces in his tone. There was this strange corner of his mind that wishes the woman would fight more, thrash and claw at anyone who tried to defile the soil she ruled. But Hoseok knew Rosyne wouldn’t. She cared too much for her own good to let blood stain her palace walls. God, he hated it. “You’ll—you’ll be put away.”

Rosyne stammers lightly before biting down her bottom lip. With a shake of her head, she speaks. “I don’t see another choice right now.” Eyes flicker up to meet his gaze searching his concerned expression. “But I’ll only do it if you think it’s right.”

Breath hitches in his throat for a moment. “W-Why me?”

“I don’t have a lot of advisors aside from you and Kiku.” Rosyne chuckles nervously. “And Kiku told me to do what I thought was right.”

Almost as if fate carefully chose how to torture Hoseok the most. Instead of letting Rosyne decide for herself, now it was on his shoulders. His fingers tightened around hers—as a silent way to apologize for what he was about to do.

“I say agree.” Hoseok presses his lips together immediately.

Rosynes’ expression softens as she nods. “Okay.” A small smile tugs at her lips and Hoseok wants to take it back.

He really wants to take it back but the Queen was already loosening her grip from his hand and walking back to the throne room.

“I’m so sorry.” Hoseok whispers once she disappears.

-

Back at the throne room, Rosyne notices that the woman in the white dress is now sited on a chair. She smiles a little assuming Kiku must have noticed her in pain and brought in a seat for the remainder of the meeting.

Once she stands in the front of the throne, the attendants in the room fade to a pin-drop silence. All eyes fixate on her with an air of anticipation and some maybe a little fear.

Rosyne takes a deep breath. “This kingdom is my home. I grew up running around this very palace while my caretakers kept telling me that one day it will all belong to me.” As she examines the faces, the fear is still there curdling in the depths of their gazes. “Every monarch has to make difficult decisions…” She licks her lips. “…even if it means having to step down from power.”

The council began murmuring again, still in their shocked tones. Kiku, on the other hand, looked rather calm giving Rosyne an acknowledging nod to reassure her. She was going to be by her side no matter what.

“Your Majesty, I hereby hand you over the kingdom of Wisteria.” Rosyne clasped her hands together, raising her chin a little. “I trust you will give it the nurturing, love and protection that it deserves.” She expected the council to argue more. Maybe the murmurs to grow louder but they stood silent, the air of anticipation now fading into full shock and lack of belief.

Hoseok caught Namjoons’ glance towards him. Maybe sometime in the past, he would have loved to see the look of accomplishment on his brothers’ face but right now all it brought him was dread. He averts his gaze and hangs his head down to the floor. They succeeded. Yet victory tasted far too bitter on his tongue.

“I promise you, I will do the best I can to ensure Wisteria thrives for ages to come.” Namjoon bows again, indicating that it was the last time he will ever do so.

*****

Sun blazed as morning faded into midday when Rosyne walked out into the gardens with Hoseok following behind her. Dark curls bounce as she walks though the flowers like a gorgeous nature faery in her loose georgette lilac dress. Much time passed since he got accepted as the butler for the princess. His cheeks still burn at the memory of staring at the same girl from the forest being announced as Princess Rosyne.

“How many people do you fool with that whole girl in the forest thing?” Hoseok breaks the comfortable silence, attempting to catch up with the princess she seemed to be flying through the garden.

Rosyne chuckles a little. “It’s not a play. No one really asks when I’m out walking.” She shrugs.

“Then people are a little stupid.”

“Are you calling yourself stupid?” She looks over her shoulder, a cheeky glint in her eyes.

Hoseok couldn’t control the grin stretching across his lips. “Where are we going anyway?”

“One of my favourite places in the palace.” A smile was evident in her tone as they walked further into the depths of the garden.

Finally Hoseok notices something glimmering under the sunlight, almost similar to the antlers from the gold deer he almost killed that day. Past the hedges shaped like faeries and mermaids, they come in view of a majestic building. All the walls made from clear material that welcomed the sunlight forming rainbow patterns on the surface. Inside he noticed trees and bushes along with some birds flying around inside the establishment and as they walk closer, he could hear the rush of water from inside. “A greenhouse.”

“I basically grew up in this place.” Rosyne smiles at the building with her aura bursting in colours of joy.

Walking inside, Hoseok realized where the water sound was coming from. The large fountain perched in the middle while some tiny ones hiding in the bushes. A rush of cool air brushed through his clothes giving him a slight refreshment.

“The maids would help grow crops and flowers.” She reaches out and caresses some of the banana leaves next to them. “The crops grow much faster because of the controlled environment and I can give them to the people whenever their harvests are minimal.”

Hoseoks’ heart jumps at her words. “You do that for them?”

“Well just the city itself.” Rosyne shrugs as if this act alone was not enough kindness. “I want to make two more on each side of this one…” She gestures to the sides as they walk closer to the fountain. “…so there can be more for the rest of the territory. Especially with winter coming around.”

“That’s—a wonderful thing to do, Your Majesty.” As his heart jumps, a strange warmth spread across his belly almost overwhelming him to smile because the energy was too much inside him. How many kingdoms would revolt just to have a monarch that could care for their people this much?

Rosyne smiles shyly before shaking his head. “It’s not anything special. Royals take care of their people.” She sits down on the edge of the fountain. “I’m not much of an expert warrior like my younger sister is so I do this.”

“It’s still amazing.” Hoseok defends as he sits down next to her. “Fighting isn’t the only thing a royal needs to do.”

Rosyne has the slight urge to rest her head on his shoulders but quickly refrains. “Thank you. And call me Rosyne, okay? Can’t spend your entire life calling Your Majesty, you’d probably go insane.” She giggles.

*****

Walking through the hallways pungent with the scent of medicine, Yoongi made sure to keep his steps quiet and careful. Although he felt a tinge of worry when Minnie told him that the pain on her leg kept worsening. Finally he stood in front of a red wooden door, reaching up to knock until he hears some murmurs.

Leaning in, he manages to recognize the Rosynes’ voice through the wood. The words then materialized and—

Shit.

Yoongi quickly shakes his head and opens the door to see Kiku, the Royal Physician looking over her shoulder while Rosyne stood adjacent to her looking at him with wide eyes.

“Can I help you?” Kiku asks with a hard expression, standing up from the chair.

The black haired male glances at Rosyne, giving her an acknowledging nod before facing the physician again. “Queen Minnie needs some medicine for her leg. She hurt it during the journey to the kingdom.” Yoongi tries to keep his voice calm and steady even though his fingers trembled just a little.

“Alright.” Kiku’s voice didn’t change as she gazes around the table before walking over to the one full of closed potions and Bunsen burners. “Did you forget to bring your Physician?” She asks without facing him.

“The pain got worse and Seokjin suggested that you might have something stronger.” Yoongi explains.

“Is it really bad?” Rosyne asks, a concerned expression twisting her features.

He quickly smiles to reassure her. “Your physician is known to be the best so I’m sure she’ll be in good hands.”

Kiku hums attempting to stretch her lips out in an attempt of a smile before handing him a baby blue liquid. “This helps to alleviate pain and if it’s just muscle problems, it could also heal some of the damage.” As Yoongi accepts the vial, she clasps her fingers to herself. “If anything gets worse, just bring her to me and I’ll check it personally.”

Yoongi nods. “Thank you.” He gives a decent bow to Rosyne before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

As soon as the male disappears out into the hallway, Rosynes’ smile fades into concern. “Do you think—”

“He might have heard.” Kiku replies simply. “Look, if anything gets funny here—I’m telling them. And I’m not asking, Your Majesty.” Despite her voice being soft, it still had a firmness to it. “Magic should not be used with such a condition for a very long time…alright?”

Rosyne sighs. Of course she knew it was wrong. Maybe before it was okay to keep it on the down low but it had been dragged on for too long. So all she could do was nod.

-

“Master Min…”

Yoongis’ stomach jumps when he heard the eerie voice again. Turning around, he saw the Physician walking closer until a chill ran down his spine. “Lady Kiku…” He raises his chin and looks her straight in her grey-ish toned eyes.

The corner of his lips twitched before she speaks. “I know you heard our conversation.”

“Don’t recall doing that.” He shakes his head, attempting to keep a solid stance, unblinking and keeping as much eye contact as he could. Even though the words kept replaying in his head.

“I’m assuming you’re going to tell the new pretend king, yes?” A sense of bitterness intertwined in her usually calm tone.

“He is King.”

“Sure.” Yoongi had to admit Kiku had a good talent in rolling her eyes the most subtle way possible. “Back to the point at hand I would highly advise you to keep it our secret.”

“And why would I do such a thing?” Yoongi gives a slightly mocking smirk, tilting his head.

“Because I’m sure King Namjoon would not like to hear what his most trusted advisor did to his wife.” Kikus’ expression once again unchanging.

Yoongi feels his body burn and his stomach twist. The grip on the vial tightened until his knuckles were white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His jaw tightens.

“Multiple nights, yes.” Kikus’ lips curled into a faint smile, now mocking his previous confidence. “Whenever Namjoon is too busy to come to the Queens’ chambers. All those things you whispered in her ear while she tried not to scream in pleasure.”

Gaze darkening, he stomped closer to the woman, body heating like a volcano. “How the fuck did you—”

“It’s an ability of mine. I can see, feel and even smell anyone’s darkest secrets so long as they look me in the eye for a period of time.” Kiku searches his eyes even longer. Much to her interest, Yoongi still didn’t move his gaze away. “It’s funny to see confident men trying to stare right into me thinking they’re in power when really they’re giving me everything to destroy them.”

Yoongi scoffed. “If you can do that then how is it you never expected Hoseok to go behind your back and bring Namjoon here?”

“Because his betrayal technically wasn’t his darkest secret.” Kiku gulps down but even then one had to really focus on her movements to notice. “Every magical ability has a twist.”

Yoongis’ expression softened in slight curiosity. Hoseok hadn’t spoken to Namjoon much ever since Rosyne agreed to give the Kingdom away. Maybe their brother did not feel too happy about betraying the Queen.

“So if I keep my mouth shut about your lovely liaisons with Queen Minnie…” Kikus’ voice pulled him back into reality. “…will you keep your word on being quiet until Queen Rosyne and I are ready?”

“Fine.”

Kiku nodded with a proper smile, making her grey-toned eyes look even more deadly. “Pleasure doing business with you, Master Min.”

-

The searing pain on Minnie’s ankle faded into the dull throbbing after the potion Yoongi gave her which thankfully allowed her to walk to the window. Eyes trails across the gorgeous view of the kingdom, accents of purple from the lavenders. She loved how this place was true to its aura of purple to match their name.

As a child, Minnie used to read about the first Queen having anxiousness every single day so she would decorate the entire palace with lavender. Then on the whole kingdom would design their houses with the same flower for their monarchs would feel at peace.

Footsteps tap against the wood making her ears prick up. Before she could turn to see, a pair of arms wrap around her waist pulling her body close.

“Are you impressed?” Namjoons’ voice tickles in her ear, lips brushing against the shell.

Minnie sighs. “I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“It just…” She shakes her head. “…it seems like we’re pulling a kingdom from under her. Instead of actually earning our place here.”

Namjoons’ body stills for a moment but he continues to press light kisses on her earlobe. “She agreed to giving us the kingdom.”

“Not willingly though.” Minnie caresses his forearm as it tightens around her body. “Rosyne looked—desperate and scared. It doesn’t feel right.”

Namjoon moves down to the crook of her neck, lips parting now as he lightly suckles on the soft skin. “You worry too much.” His voices mumbles a little.

Minnie closes her eyes for a moment feeling his teeth graze. She knew all too well he wasn’t going to listen to her far too much in this mood. “Someone needs to.”

He let out a deep breath opting to rest his chin on her shoulder. “The law in states if the Commander and Queen both sign to giving away the kingdom than it is respectable to do so. Queen agreed because she’s smitten for Hoseok and the Commander—” Namjoon scoffed. “He looks like a sweaty, old fool. They’re all gullible idiots, too nice for their own good. But what we’re doing still isn’t wrong.”

Minnie gulped down, still unconvinced no matter how he tried to make it look okay. Even the Commander being a timid, old man was beyond confusing. Though her thoughts were pushed down when she felt his palm trail down between her legs, cupping over her clothing. His lips latch back onto her neck, suckling on the skin to a point where it ached causing a light gasp to hitch in her throat.

“Now stop worrying and let me help you relax, hm?”

-

Sun dipped down fading the sky into a mixture of purple and orange hue while Rosyne scratched the pen across the paper. Hair tucked behind her hair while she has her comfortable soft white dress adorned on her body. Namjoon made sure to keep her out of as many meetings as possible while Kiku would update her on certain things by chatting with some of the members.

Though she didn’t care. The only thing swirling around her mind was what Kiku told her after talking to Yoongi.

Her heart sunk deep into a pool somewhere, drowning and screaming for help but Rosyne’s whole body looked calm. She kept writing on the paper trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

The door clicked open but she didn’t move from her spot on the bed. Footsteps echoed ever so slightly onto the walls.

“Are you doing alright?” Hoseok speaks first, watching the woman writing something down while calmly sitting against the headboard.

Rosyne hums in response.

He walks to the side of the bad and sits down on the edge. “Do you need anything?”

“What was I doing wrong?” Her words linger in the air, thickening it a little.

His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Usually when—” Rosyne sits up a little, putting her book down. “…when people band together to take over kingdoms, it means the monarch must be doing something wrong.” She played with the fabric of the blanket. “What did I do?”

The air grew thick, making it uncomfortable to breathe as Hoseok shifted a little on the bed. Unsure of whether to move away or closer to console her. “You did nothing.” He mutters. “You’re—” So much better than them. “—a good queen.”

“Then why did you continue spying for them?”

Hoseok felt like all the air in his lungs disappeared leaving him unable to move at all. His mouth was agape looking over at the girl and finally seeing how reddened her eyes making the violet look dangerous almost. At least it would if she didn’t look so heartbroken. “Rosyne…” He reaches out and tries to hold onto her hand.

Rosyne pulls her hands away and hugs her knees to her chest. “Kiku told me that you were the one who alerted them of the kingdoms’ vulnerability—my vulnerability.”

“I really didn’t want to do it.” Hoseok persisted to shift closer until he completely sat on the bed with her. “Please–please believe me.”

“But you still did.” She shakes her head, eyes flooding with fresh new tears. “All that talk of staying by my side…everything was a lie.”

“No. Not everything.” Hoseok reaches out to hold her again. Give her some kind of comfort as he held onto her shoulder, hand cupping her cheek and wiping away tears trickling down. “I did do it to protect my brothers, yes. Namjoon had a goal and I wanted to help him reach it but—” He leans in, cupping both her cheeks so she could look at him. Even though staring at her features contorting into one of pain made his heart drop. “—what happened in our private moments—the bathhouse, everything, that was me, okay? It was all me.”

Rosyne pushed his hands away gently. “Don’t lie, please.” She sobbed out in such a weak tone. No wonder no one complained when she stepped down from Queen.

“I’m not lying, Rosyne.” Hoseok had to grip onto the fabric of her dress as his breathing grew shakier. “I’m not lying, I promise—I’m so sorry…” He whispers dropping his head down on her shoulder, sniffling lightly. “That was all me. I wanted to be with you.”

She winces wanting to push him away so badly but it felt so comforting. So annoyingly comforting. “I wanted to be with you too.” Rosyne swallows down the painful lump in her throat. “Please get off me.”

Hoseok nudges his nose against the crook of her neck for a moment before pulling away with his head hung down. Fingers curled up into tight fists as he brought them back onto his lap. “I—”

“I need to rest.” Rosyne shifted away and rested back on the headboard.

Deflated as his heart sunk down to a pit, Hoseok forced himself off the bed. “Okay.”

*****

Steam exuded from the large body of water, beautiful paintings of faeries adorned on the walls with lilac pillars and golden lining. What added to the ethereal atmosphere was Rosynes’ bare body, damp hair slicked back and her skin a little flushed from the heat. Hoseok pads further into the bathhouse, pushing the curtain closed behind him.

“I heard Gaia is going to be anointed another position.” He spoke though Rosyne didn’t seem to look startled at all, delicate fingers brushing over the heated surface. “No one’s been notified yet though.”

Rosyne turned around completely now, dipping down further so the slightly cloudy water blurred out her chest. “Yes, my father wanted to keep it on the down low for a while.” Her eyes practically shimmered in the light. “She’s being training for years.”

“You two make a strong pair for the kingdom.” Hoseok nods, hands intertwined behind his back.

“This is a place of relaxation, Hoseok.” Her voice dwindles down to a softness slightly different to what people heard out in the streets.

Hoseok couldn’t control his eyes flickering down to her chest as she ‘accidentally’ stood up a little more. Heat curdles in his lower belly. “I can see that.” His tone rings a low growl right from his core.

“That means you can stop being the butler for a little while.” Rosyne moves a little closer to him until her head moves up to watch him towering over her. “Come join me.”

The room was so warm and her voice was so welcoming. It would be very soothing to just take his clothes off, soak his body into perfectly heated water with a gorgeous princess in the water with him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He didn’t sound convincing at all.

“What if I drown?” Rosyne pouts.

Hoseok smirked, pupils darkening as his gaze fixates deeper into her adorable yet alluring gaze. “What if someone sees us?”

“The man who had the gall to shoot a golden deer scared of someone peeking into the bathhouse?” She raises a brow, tilting her head.

With a light scoff of amusement, Hoseok noticed her stand up a little more. Something jumped in his stomach when he almost spotted her breast before she dipped down again as if silently teasing him. Then he began shrugging his coat off earning an accomplished grin from Rosyne.

Stripping off of all his clothes and carefully walked down the stairs. The intense warmth broke through the icy layer of his skin. As Hoseok moved deeper, his body melts and loosens in the comfortable burn before he sinks until he was neck deep into the heat. A light sigh passed his lips.

“Better?” Rosyne asks in such a soothing tone, he could’ve fallen asleep right there and then.

Instead Hoseok hums in response, ears pricking up as the water moved around him. He watched the princess move to the side slowly. Her beautiful features glowing and flushed but she relishes in it with her eyes closed and body, slowly swaying.

“You like it here, don’t you?” His voice echoes a little against the surface.

Rosyne smiles. “From the moment I wake up to the minute I fall asleep, there are eyes on me. Noise everywhere. Responsibilities from each corner.” She tilts her head, waving her arms gently in the water again. “This is the only place of peace I have.”

Hoseok looks around the room. “Better place than any.”

“No one’s allowed to disturb me in here.” She mutters with a slight smirk in her voice. “It’s liberating.”

“I disturbed you.”

Rosyne suckled in her bottom lip before those gorgeous eyes flicker up to meet his gaze. The violet in them faded into an almost black tone. “I wanted you to disturb me.”

Oh.

Hoseok chuckles albeit with a slight shakiness to it with the way she was looking at him. He always when she was excited but those eyes and the way her lips parted—his fingers were trembling under the water. “Don’t I count as noise?”

Glistening lips stretch into a smile as she trails closer, steam radiating from her body. “I like your noise.”

Their faces inches away from one another, lips so close all Hoseok had to was lean in a little more. Just a little more and he could feel her soft flesh. This is too far. It’s going too far. All he had to do was befriend her, just befriend at best. Maybe a thickly laid trust but not this. This wasn’t a mission though, was it? Hoseok willingly dipped into this pool because she asked. Not because of some deep goal he needed to achieve.

Because she looked at him with those damn eyes and asked in such a warm, sweet voice. He was dipping in this pool, body melting and head spinning because he wanted to listen to Rosyne. He wanted her excited, eyes losing all of that ethereal violet shade. For her to smile and feel her body closing in on him. Fuck he wanted it.

It only takes the princess to move just another small inch before Hoseok leans in, brushing against her warm lips. He feels soft palms gently press onto his bare chest causing a tingle down his spine. He wanted more. The kiss was too soft. Hand raises from the depths of the water, he cups the back of her neck and pulls her in closer.

A small gasp hitches in her throat, mouth parting for him to explore while her hands move to his shoulders. His hot palms moves from her drenched hair down to her bare back. Rosyne shivers a little even in the sheer heat surrounding them before she feels him press their bodies together.

Hoseok breaks the kiss for a split second before pecking her lips again, trailing down to her chin to her jawline. He grazes his teeth gently at first relishing in the light moan passing Rosyne’s lips. Then he bites down the soft, delicate skin. He feels her fingers grip at his hair causing him to groan against her. When he pulls away, Hoseok couldn’t help but smirk seeing the reddened mark adorning the beautiful princess. Placing a kiss on top of the new wound he moves down her neck, biting down the crook again.

Rosyne lets out a small giggle before gently pushing their bodies onto the stairs. Her legs floating a little over his lap. She smiles at how flushed Hoseoks’ lips were, thumb grazing over the bottom one as he kisses the pads of her fingers. Moving her digits down his body, her fingers wrap around his member causing a light huff of breath to leave him.

She raises and positions herself at the tip. As Rosyne lowers, her grip tightens on his shoulder, breathing a little ragged feeling her walls stretch to a slight ache.

Her movements were slow and a little careful but Hoseok has all the time in the world to watch how her features soften, relishing in the new fill. His legs feel like jelly, his entire length beautifully swallowed by her wet heat. Hands move to her hips gently not wanting to force any movements when Rosyne still tries to adjust.

Rosyne slides up just halfway before moving down, the ache now subsiding completely leaving her with the pleasurable fill. She slowly bounces up and down feeling a warmth coil in her lower belly. Her core swallows his entire length again as she grinds against him, rubbing against her throbbing nub as a moan chokes out of her.

Hoseok watches her move, fingers pads now digging into her skin as she pleasures both of them in such grace. He leans in to press more tender kisses on her collarbone. A light groan emitting under his throat as he felt a heaviness between his legs. One of his hands move up to cup her breast, skin still so warm and inviting, his thumb grazes against her nipple. Lips reached up to kiss her earlobe. “You feel so good, sweetheart…” He tries to thrust up into her, hips crashing against each other earning a shaky whimper from the princess. “So good.”

Rosyne tries to reply but it only comes out in tiny, staggered moans as she feels Hoseok meet with her thrusts, water thrashing around them. Her arms wrap around his shoulders tightly, whimpering in his ear. The heat constricted inside her, desperate to release, fingers dragging down his chest. “I’m—” She breathes out. “I’m close…” Eyes close shut as the ball kept tightening, burning and aching for more.

Before he could utter another word, the heat rushes through him, body shuddering underneath her, heaviness spewing out of him and filling the beauty. Hoseok feels every inch of him being filled with warmth, slowly pulling him into a ecstasy induced trance. A faint smile curling on his lips, he watches Rosyne keep moving on top of him, his sensitive skin aching a little from overstimulation but he didn’t want to stop.

Her whole body convulsed as she felt something warm filling her up, bursting the ball in her lower belly. Pleasure exploded to each crevice, each veins as she grips onto his shoulders trying to keep steady. Her head feels heavy, hips jerking whenever her nub touches his skin. Rosyne rests her forehead against his as her chest rises and falls slowly to a normal speed.

“Was that relaxing enough, princess?” Hoseok gives a toothy smirk, peering at the beauty through hooded lids.

Rosyne giggles breathlessly before pressing a small kiss on his lips. “Very.”

*****

Early in the morning, Rosyne forces herself to walk out of the palace and take a walk through the city in her cloak. Most of the people looked over at her and smiled, giving a decent bow. It was good they were happy. That’s all that mattered at the end of the day. She smiled back at them to somehow ease the tension.

Though walking deeper through the stalls of clothing and scents of spices, she stops hearing grunting and yelling. Rosyne quickened her pace walking towards the sound until she found a couple of guards trying to drag an old man across the ground while he thrashed around.

“What’s going on here?” Rosyne’s voice immediately halted the guards’ movements. Both of them stared over at her with a slightly confused expression while the farmer, Daehyun quickly stood up and straightened his clothes up.

“He’s not paid his taxes.” One of the guards answered, gesturing to the farmer who grimaced.

Rosyne’s brows furrow glancing over at the farmer. “Daehyun, you’ve always been able to pay taxes before.”

“Not anymore.” He scoffs. “Ever since that sod got on the throne, he’s raised the taxes. Saying it’s for military efforts.” Bitterness spewed out in every single word when he spoke about Namjoon.

“What?” She winces. “Let him go.” As soon as Rosyne gestures, the guards gave her a bow and walk off to their posts. Namjoon wouldn’t like that loyalty but that still didn’t change why they were here. “I’ll need to speak to the King to address this problem.”

“Take your throne back, Your Majesty. That could help.” Daehyun had a kind tone but it still tugged at Rosyne’s belly.

“I wish that could help right now.” She whispers to herself.

-

He knew. God Hoseok knew something was going to go wrong. With the way Namjoon held himself once he sat on that throne, the air of confidence when he had the first taste of pure power. Of course the first thing he does is strip more money from the people in the city. One the many things good Rosyne enforced as the princess was to minimize the military funding so people could have more food and other facilities.

It made the kingdom thrive with rich harvests, people with full bellies and roofs over their heads without worrying to death about their debt to the monarch. King Eirin obviously hated the idea at first but eventually pulled through when he saw how happy and bright his kingdom was because of his daughter.

Now it was all ruined.

Hoseok watched almost with a glare as Namjoon relaxes on the throne, kissing the back of Minnie’s hand and leaning in to whisper something. Eyes flicker over to Yoongi and find him averting his gaze to the door. “You need to be careful, Namjoon.” He interrupts his little flirting.

Namjoon narrows his gaze, lips still hovering over Minnie’s skin. “Why is that?”

“If you keep drastically changing rules then the people will start revolting.”

“They love their princess but I’m sure it’s not enough to revolt.” Namjoon scoffed.

“Love can be a dangerous tool.” Hoseok looked over at Yoongi who now had his eyes completely locked on Minnie. “Don’t underestimate it.”

Brows furrowed, the king stared up at his friend. “Since when do you have such high regard for love?”

Hoseok sees Rosyne’s smile in the screen of his mind despite trying to push it down. It was useless though. Despite their slight tension, Namjoon knew him well. Far too well. He noticed the other male’s expression soften into one of recognition.

Namjoon breathes out a chuckle, leaning back on his chair. “Who’d have thought? The man who wouldn’t even blink after killing.”

“I killed for you.” He tastes something sour on his tongue causing him to grimace lightly. “Not for myself.”

“And yet you doubt my ability to run this kingdom?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “I never once doubted you. But I’m still concerned.” He looks down at the male who has his head turned to his side to listen. “One bad move always leads to another.”

Namjoon takes a breath to reply but the double doors open, breaking through their thick tension. A burst of lilac and black step into the throne room. “Lady Rosyne…”

Rosyne notices Kikus’ light sigh from the corner of her eye at Namjoons’ address. If she couldn’t control her emotions then Rosyne had no chance. But she tries anyway. “I would like to offer a plead on behalf of the kingdom.” The double doors close gently behind her before the room fades into silence.

“What is it?” Namjoon waves his hand, allowing her to continue.

“The taxes. Why have you have raised them?”

“You handed me this kingdom for protection…” He gives a small, forced smile. “…military is your first line of defense.”

“My military—”

“My military…” Namjoon corrects.

“Your military is strong enough as it is.” Rosyne maintains her calm tone though her fingers trembles as the seconds go by. “The taxes were there to ensure stability so that the farmers could pay within due time.”

“Well it’s not enough to strength the military further.”

“We have an abundant amount of funds in the vaults, I’m sure you can spare some.”

“And risk a drop in our funds?” Namjoon winces slightly.

“That is what military does.”

“With all due respect, my lady…” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the armchairs. “You don’t have any fighting experience, nor any time on the battlefield. I’m afraid you can’t have a say in what military can and cannot do.”

Hoseok tightened his jaw, shooting glares to the back of Namjoons’ head. Somehow it angers him more seeing how patient and calm Rosyne looks. Not at her but him. This kingdom deserved her. She deserved so much better.

“I have experience in running a large kingdom…with all due respect, longer than you have.”

“And yet I’m here sitting on your throne.”

The room rushed with icy cold air, so harsh it makes all of them shiver except for Kiku and Rosyne who stand still and calm. Hoseok could have sworn he saw the sun disappear for a few moments. Their breaths coming out in steam.

“Kiku…” Rosyne whispers, immediately holding onto the physicians’ hand.

In seconds, Kiku let out a deep breath and the room brightened with the sun again and the people meet the comfortable warmth of the day.

Namjoons’ breathing now sounds shaky and a little ragged almost as if he was fearful. “Alright, I’ll lower the taxes…” Maybe he was. “…on one condition.”

“What condition?” Rosyne asks, hand tightening around Kikus’ to keep her calm.

“I want you to take a ride around town…” Namjoon has a careful gaze on Kiku but he quickly moves back to Rosyne before his heart feels like freezing. “…ride around town without clothes on.”

“What’re you doing?” Hoseok whispers. His body heats up faster he realizes, nails digging deep into his palms until he almost broke the skin.

“Trying to prove who the monarch really is.” Namjoon replies in a low tone before facing the former Queen again. “Do I have a deal?”

Rosyne has her hand so tight around Kiku that she could feel ice from the physicians’ veins shooting up inside her. “Will you lower the taxes?”

Namjoon attempts to give a kind smile but it all comes to be malicious and mocking. “I’m a lot of terrible things but I keep my word.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Rosyne must have been hurting Kikus’ skin at this point but at least she could feel her trying to keep it down. Light rushes of ice shoots up her arm.

“No…” Hoseok speaks in such a meek tone. “Namjoon…brother, please…”

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Namjoon ignores before sitting back on the stolen throne again with an air accomplishment and relaxation.

*****

It all happened so quickly that Rosyne feels her head spinning when they ran towards the King’s chambers after the news. Even as she sat down next to the bed, eyes actively avoiding the blood soaked bandages, her head kept throbbing incessantly. This was too soon. It’s happening too soon. “Father…” Her voice shakes.

“I’m alright.” His father chuckles albeit with a wheeze in his breath. “I’m alright, sweetheart.”

Standing at the corner of the room, hair in a mess and her arms aching, Kiku feels somewhat comfortable looking at the King in this manner. To the eyes of the world, he was ruthless and cunning. Only to the eyes of his daughter the man softened, reminding her that love showed itself in so many strange and different ways.

“You’re not alright.” Rosynes’ lips quiver. “We both know that.”

Eirin’s smile fades for a moment but he pulls it back again. “This—was going to happen eventually.”

“Not if you didn’t go to that hunt.”

“I couldn’t just lie and wait for it to happen, my dear.”

Rosyne hangs her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t say sorry.” He taps her chin to make her look at him again. “Never apologize for your kindness. A lot of people like telling kind people that they’re weak or unworthy. Let them think it…but always remind them who the true ruler is.” Eirin notices the inhibition still glinting in his daughter’s eyes but finds comfort when she nods.

The King then turns to the left and gives a soft smile to his youngest daughter, Gaia. “You, my child, are going to destroy so many powerful people one day.” He muses.

His comment earns a small, sad chuckle from Gaia. Her cheeks still so flushed, eyes brighter than ever and full of youth despite the things she has seen and done.

“You will protect your older sister, won’t you?”

Immediately Gaia nods. “To the death, I promise.”

Rosyne doesn’t look all too happy about that promise but she stays quiet nonetheless.

“Now…” Eirin grunts a little. “…you girls go off.” He waves his hand weakly, smiling at the both of them. “Get some rest while I rest my eyes as well.”

They both knew what that meant. As much as it would be relieving to protest till their lungs ripped apart, there was no defying the force taking their father.

Gaia gets up first, walking over to Rosynes’ side and gently holding her arm. “Come on.” Her voice was deep but still comforting.

Rosyne pushed herself back to her feet before following the two girls outside of the Kings’ chambers.

“I’ll go check on the patrol. Make sure you get some sleep, okay?” Gaia rubbed her sisters’ shoulder, a light dullness to her gaze. The youngest always tried to keep herself contained with work whenever something went wrong.

Rosyne wonders how distant she would become once the news was confirmed.

As Gaia walked away, Kiku searches Rosynes’ expression. Much to her distress she could only see fear and pain. Some part of her selfishly felt relieved that she couldn’t look into her eyes. She feared of what they might tell her. As if the Physician didn’t already know. “You didn’t tell him.”

“I couldn’t.” Rosyne whispers. “I don’t know why it’s so hard.” Maybe she didn’t want to believe it. Maybe dragging out the news helped her believe that she had more time.

“What about Hoseok? Have you told him yet?”

Rosyne shakes her head. “What’s wrong with me, Kiku?”

“If the secret gets out at the time of the King’s death, you’ll be dead.” Kiku replies simply. “Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re doing exactly what a lot of Queens should’ve done in the past.” She takes a few steps forward and places a hand on her shoulder. “But you have to tell him. If no one else, he still needs to know.”

“I know…” Rosyne mutters weakly. “Once—” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Once the funeral is done…” Her voice dwindled in such a weak whisper as if she didn’t want to make it too real by saying it out loud. “…I’ll tell him.”

*****

“Your Majesty…” Kikus’ voice calm, deathly steady voice rung into the room. Even when the council looked so much different they paused whatever they were doing to look over at the woman coming to stand in the center.

Hoseok knew they could all feel it too. That sense of chill and dread running down their spine when they faced the mysterious Royal Physician. Even as Namjoon took power, it seemed like his friend wanted to actively avoid interacting with her. Right now as well the new king tried to avoid looking into her eyes.

“Yes, Kiku?” Namjoon sounds…so kind.

Fear does that to people.

Kiku leaves a small pause for the council to really drown themselves in the feeling of dread. It even smelled like fear. If fear smelled like fresh snow. “To prevent any sudden surprise during —” The room could have turned to ice as the cold grows thick around them. “—the ride to town. I would like to inform you that the Queen is with child. Of seven months.”

Hoseok always hated how casual she was with news. Maybe it wasn’t being casual. Rosyne told him the things Kiku went through growing up. ‘People do horrible things to people they can’t understand…we’re similar that way.’ To this day he hated that conversation. No one understands the fear and dread that Kiku radiated because of the dark secrets she has in her head while no one understands the goodness and selflessness in Rosyne’s heart.

People do horrible things to people they can’t understand. He was one of them, wasn’t he? Just like Namjoon.

The thought running in his head managed to distract him for a time until a heavy heat settles in his gut masking the chill. No. No, please.

Hoseok knew Rosyne was sick for a time; vomiting, eating berries with bread and craving meat when she hated it before.

“She doesn’t look any different to me.” Namjoon asks with furrowed brows.

“The day I discovered her pregnancy, she asked me to use an illusion enchantment to hide it once it starts to show.” Kikus’ expression didn’t change nor did the cold in the room. “Though I told her to stop so the physical symptoms will start coming back.”

God…he’s so fucking stupid. Hoseok should have known.

“Well thank you for the information—” Namjoon leans back on the throne. “But the Queen has agreed.”

Hoseoks’ head shoots to look at Namjoon, forehead knitted and the burn in his gut now directed into something else. “Namjoon—”

“A deal is a deal, Hoseok.”

Hoseok tried to glance at Yoongi for some kind of silent help and even he knew, this was wrong. The way the older male’s brows furrowed and lips parted almost as if he was trying to hiss. Even Yoongi knew this was very wrong.

Minnie looked…absolutely livid. Eyes almost reddening as her fingers tremble causing her to grip onto the arms of the chair. “You need to call it off.” The queen speaks this time breaking through the tense silence.

“My love, some compromises need to be made. I can’t just give her what she asks all the time, it makes me look weak.” Namjoon, as always, softens his voice when he speaks to his beloved.

“All she’s asking is for the taxes to be lowered.” Minnie mutters in disbelief of her husband. “Your kingdom will not be harmed by that.”

“General!” Namjoons’ voice booms across the room causing Minnie to flinch a little.

A man dressed almost rusting armor and skin glistening in sweat scuttles over to the area and bows down to Namjoon. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Oh? Oh okay. Hoseok’s brows furrowed but he stayed silent.

“Does the military need more funding?” Namjoon asks.

“Y-Yes, it does, Your Majesty.”

“What will happen if it’s not funded?”

“Then we will run out of weapons a-and armor.” The ‘General’ looks around frantically at everyone in the room, teeth clattering a little while he recited something out of a script. “And the k-kingdom will be vulnerable.”

“Thank you, General.”

The sweaty man bows again, with a proud smile on his face before stepping back. Jimin quickly steps away from him and closer to Yoongi with an annoyed grimace.

“You’re asking a pregnant woman who never did anything wrong to you, to strip naked and ride around town in her condition.” Minnies’ voice shakes with anger. “You’re not a King, you’re a fucking tyrant. And it’s going to bite you back soon enough.”

Namjoon kept his gaze on the woman before facing Kiku again. “The deal will go as planned.”

Hoseok expected Kiku to say something. Do something. This was wrong.

It was different, the way she looked at Namjoon. Like she already knew how to destroy him from the inside and out.

Though when Kiku looked over at Hoseok, his heart stopped beating for a moment.

The chill was gone and all he feels is this intense heat from his toes to his head, burning his insides until he lost all the air in his lungs. Shit, Hoseok could feel it ripping him apart.

Kiku was furious. Her expression didn’t change much but her eyes screamed only one thing right at him.

This is your doing.

next chap >>

[raendown]

A story for @insaneflowergirl as part of the @madatobigiftexchange! Only took me six days to realize it’s June. A grand improvement over the last couple months. xD

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4049 Rated: T+ Fandom: Naruto Summary: Trapped together by an avalanche in the middle of a mission, Madara and Tobirama make a passing attempt at dealing with the discovery that they are soulmates. And also the discovery that there is only one bed to share for the night.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Warmth in Winter Hearts

“I don’t suppose if I happened to suggest laying down to rest you might actually listen?” 

“You’re not my mother!”

Tobirama pressed the bridge of his nose tightly between two fingers and breathed slowly. “Gods but I hope not. I have neither the parts nor the patience for that.”

Across the cavern Madara scowled, looking very much like he was only moments away from sticking out his tongue. If he were perfectly honest Tobirama would not have been surprised in the least to see that sort of childish behavior after the emotionally taxing week they’d been going through. Getting put on a mission together was bad enough; they fought like cats and dogs in the tower with separate offices to retreat to, how Hashirama expected them to survive an entire month out here in the wilderness together was a mystery. Yet the worst part had to be getting snowed in separate from the man they were meant to be escorting with no way to make sure the idiot was still alive. 

“When we get out of here,” Madara growled, “I’m going to tear out that asshole’s hair strand by strand.”

“I’m not sure how much of a threat that is.”

“Excuse you, that is a terrifying threat.”

“Not everyone is as attached to their hair as you are,” Tobirama pointed out. 

He was already turning away to build up the meager fire he’d hastily thrown together upon realizing they were trapped in here. Still, he could practically feel the weight of dark eyes glaring at him from across the cave, probably staring at the back of head and judging the hair that he kept short purely for utilitarian purposes. If he hadn’t looked so ridiculous the one time he’d shaved it all off he would just do away with the stuff all together. What good did hair really do him? Not much. If his head got cold he could always throw on a hat. Beyond that he’d never found much of a use for it. 

“Maybe if you took better care of yours then you’d understand.”

“I very much doubt that,” Tobirama murmured under his breath.

The glaring intensified but he refused to take the bait. Feeding the fire and making sure they stayed warm throughout the night was much more important than tending to the quicksilver emotions of a man who, until today, had been nothing but a thorn in his side at every turn. If not for this blasted mission he never would have been anything else. Tobirama closed his eyes and counted his breaths in and out, in and out, slowly, evenly, searching for the calm balance that so many people mistook for unfeeling cold. It hadn’t been so difficult to center himself in years. 

As much as he tried, however, calm remained far beyond his reach. He could keep a placid expression for the idiot across the room but on the inside his emotions were tumbling over each other like a business of ferrets all fighting over the same morsel of food. They were soulmates. Even in his own head that felt strange to admit. So many years spent glaring across the battlefield, several more glaring across council tables and mokuton sturdy desks, only now to discover their connection mere hours before they got themselves trapped inside a system of caves by nothing more than a raging blizzard. Honestly if he weren’t so angry at the timing of it all Tobirama might have been impressed by the sheer volume of snow Mother Nature had seen fit to dump over their heads without warning. More so than the weather he was angry at their client. When he’d told that fool to stay close it had been for his own safety, not to ruffle his overinflated ego without reason. Now he’d trapped himself somewhere else in these caves by dashing off just before an avalanche of snow collapsed over the entrance. Madara had offered to melt through it all but there was little point. There would always be more to come down on top. 

Either their client would be dead of cold in the morning or he wouldn’t. Being here with them wouldn’t do much to change that outcome when he’d already declared that he would rather freeze to death than seek body heat from, in his words, lowly shinobi types. Tobirama would rather lose the income from this mission than let such an asshole touch him after words like that. 

“Ugh.” Behind him Madara sniffed a couple of times. “These smell terrible.”

“Probably because you’re still bleeding inside them.” Tobirama didn’t even need to turn around to know what the other was talking about. He’d wrapped those bandages himself only hours before. 

“I should probably change them. But it’s so cold…”

Standing up to brush the snow from his knees, Tobirama nodded shortly. “Cold indeed. An excellent excuse not to care for your wounds. I’ll be sure to share that one with Izuna when he asks how I could allow you to come home with blood poisoning.” 

A smile flickered across his face when the snuffling turned in to barely muted grumbling, probably a bad mockery of him since that was usually Madara’s last defense against being told to do something he already knew he should have been doing. It only took another minute or two of waiting before heavy footsteps were thumping across the snow-dusted rock to pause just at his back. The hand that shoved itself in to his view looked like some child’s imaginative drawing of a zombie, covered as it was in off-white linen turned black in some places with drying blood. 

“If you’re so worried for me then do something about it yourself!” 

“Use your manners if you want help.”

“Fuck you!” Madara snatched his hand back. When Tobirama looked he was cradling it to his chest with a pout that looked all the more ridiculous than usual when set above a full suit of battle-worn armor. “I’ll just do it myself then!” 

“Will you now?”

A raised eyebrow sent his companion storming off to where they had scraped the snow off a few square feet of ground. Dark mutterings made a lovely background tune as Madara dug through both of their packs trying to find the rest of their medical supplies. When he found them he gave a vicious little noise of triumph and then flopped down on to a nearby rock to pick at the knot on the back of his injured hand. It was hardly the only injury either of them had suffered during the past week of escorting their jittery client through one of the most dangerous sections of the border with Yugakure, just the most serious since it hampered the grip Madara needed on his infamous gunbai. He’d trained himself to use the other hand like most shinobi did but his effectiveness in battle was markedly different when doing so, forcing Tobirama to take point constantly rather than switching out by turns. 

“Don’t forget the ointment,” Tobirama called over helpfully, not bothering to hide a snicker when Madara lifted his head to glare in response. 

“I know that!” 

“Ah so you were leaving it behind in the pack, what, to keep it warm?” 

Madara tore off a strip of bandage and hauled it ineffectually through the air, shouting, “Leave me alone!” 

He should. In truth he really should leave the man alone. Both of them needed a little time to process the discovery of their unexpected connection. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t have nearly half the interpersonal skills his brother did, he’d never really learned when to leave well enough alone, so instead of giving them both a little space he watched the fluttering bandage until it hit the ground and then lifted his face with a smirk. 

“Very effective. I’m all but shaking in my boots.”

“You will be if you ever let me catch you on the training fields alone!” 

“Go on then, we’re alone right now.”

“Fuck off!” Madara grunted.

Tobirama peeked over his shoulder to make sure the fire wasn’t going to collapse on itself and then turned back to his mission partner. “I don’t think I will. You are literally my only entertainment right now.”

“I am not your entertainment!” 

“No, you’re right. You’re more like a natural disaster that I just can’t help watching. It’s human nature, you know? Like a morbid curiosity.”

Even as he spoke the words he knew he was being an ass but, as he’d said, it wasn’t like there was much else for him to do in this godforsaken cave. He might as well get a few licks in while he still had the energy. Watching Madara’s ears turn red with anger was just as fascinating as it had ever been, though having to force his mind away from examining why he was so fascinated was new. 

“If anyone here is morbid it’s you!”

“Well I’m not denying that.”

“Be more insulted!” Madara screeched. “I hate when you do that!”

Tobirama folded his arms and lifted one hand to tap at his chin. “Do what, pray tell?”

“You’re always so fucking unflappable! Just- just- it isn’t fair! Be...flapped! Or something!”

“Flapped?” He’d never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. It was perfectly reasonable that he should throw his head back and start laughing, thoroughly amused by his companion’s loss for words. Madara didn’t seem to appreciate his reaction but really that wasn’t far out of the ordinary. For the most part Madara had never seemed to appreciate much about him at all and until recently that hadn’t exactly bothered him. 

Right now the only thing flapping was Madara’s jaw as the man tried several times to come up with a response, any response at all. In the end he simply tossed the end of the bandage roll in Tobirama’s direction with lethal force and snatched the closest bedroll, storming off to spread it out across the space kicked free of snow. 

It was a shame to have his entertainment taken away so quickly, even more of a shame to know that if he also tried to bed down right now the only spot to do so would be within range of Madara’s vengeful hands, so Tobirama was left very suddenly with the echoes of his own laughter and little else. The grin on his face turned rapidly in to a scowl. Patient he might be when the situation called for it but he’d never been a fan of keeping the company of his own thoughts. Books were much more pleasant. Much less likely to spiral out of control in to dangerous places or earn him another lecture from his older brother. Not having his library at hand was certainly the worst part of any mission he’d ever taken, filled as they usually were with down time in which he had little to do but plan his next move or stare aimlessly at the surroundings. 

As much as it would probably be more interesting to wander off and explore how far back these caves actually went he didn’t think it was in his best interests to take the chance at getting lost. If nothing else Madara would definitely tell on him when they got back to the village. 

For a minute or so their little cavern was filled with the rustling of Madara settling himself down to sleep, wrenching the blankets off again when he realized he hadn’t put away all the medical supplies, then fussing at them to cover himself a second time. Once he finally settled down for good there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling merrily away. Sealed off as they were from the rest of the world, the fire was their only source of light. If not for the fact that the caves obviously went pretty deep in to the mountain it would have been a very poor idea indeed to let it keep burning away all their oxygen. Tobirama was grateful he didn’t need to put it out. Aside from giving him something to listen to besides the inside of his own head it also gave him something to look at. Or rather it gave him a bit of light by which to stare off in his partner’s direction, studying the length of Madara's body and the shapes he made under the regulation wool blanket. 

Not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea. Tobirama jerked his eyes away as soon as he realized what he was doing. Better if there had been no fire. He’d rather be blind for lack of light and leave himself at the mercy of the Sharingan for seeing any possible threats than to sit here and stare across the snowy rock like some lovelorn maiden. No matter what discoveries had been made that day they were not some pair of star crossed lovers. There was no need for whatever dramatics his face had just been doing. 

Digging both hands in to his eyes with a sigh, Tobirama decided it was probably best if he just went to sleep too. It was still too early for him to be very tired but falling asleep would at least stop him from following wherever the hell his thoughts had just been trying to go. Somewhere much too thespian for his tastes. He wasn't his brother, after all, there was no need for him to sit here and analyze his feelings or some other such nonsense. If the fire burnt down while they slept and he woke to darkness, well, he did still have Madara with him; just because he was rightfully leery of the Sharingan’s powers didn’t mean he was above taking advantage of them when he needed to. Perhaps a little mean when the man was injured by, hey, he wasn’t the one who could see in the dark and that was hardly his own fault. 

Another sigh caught at the edges of his teeth and slipped out sounding more like a hiss when he pushed himself up on to his feet, striding over towards their packs with careful footsteps. There was no telling what sort of uneven ground could be hiding under all this snow. So far away from the dancing flames his already poor vision was even worse so at first Tobirama assumed that Madara had simply kicked everything out of place while looking for the bandages. It wasn’t until he gathered all of the packs together and dug through every one of them that he realized one very important item was missing. 

His eyes snapped over to the prone figure only feet away. Madara lay stretched out and perfectly still on top of his bed roll. Or, more accurately, the only bedroll. In all the kerfuffle of their client running off and the avalanche trapping them in it appeared they had lost not only some of the food they’d been carrying but also their second sleeping mat. 

If not for the snow on the ground it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. He still had a blanket and it wasn’t like he’d never bedded down for the night without something comfortable to lie on, catching a few hours up a tree whenever he had to and doing so without complaint. The problem was that lying down on frozen rock had only one outcome and with both of them already injured in various ways he certainly couldn’t take the risk of waking up with pneumonia when there was a perfectly viable - if crushingly embarrassing - solution snoozing peacefully right there. He really hoped Madara wasn’t too comfy just yet. 

“What?” his partner snarled when he was nudged lightly with one foot. 

“Shove over,” Tobirama demanded. 

“The fuck? There is literally a whole cave of space, go make your bed somewhere else.”

“Can’t. I have to share your bed so shove over, Uchiha.”

Madara snapped upright so fast they both heard something in his back pop, though neither paid it much attention. “You fucking what now?”

“There appears to be a distinct lack of a second bedroll anywhere so unless you want me sneezing all over your bandages when I inevitably have to change them you will shove the hell over.” Tobirama crossed both arms over his chest like they could hold in all the confusing emotions trying very hard to bubble their way to the surface. 

He wasn’t sure what to think of the way Madara’s jaw hung open wordlessly, couldn’t properly make out the nuances of that expression without more light to see by. Maybe if he weren’t standing at such an angle as to throw the other man in shadow- but to step aside now so he could see better would be to admit how bad his eyes really were and that was a weakness he’d never bothered to share even with his own brother. He settled instead for standing his ground until that rounded jaw snapped shut again for Madara to harrumph loudly. 

“Fucking- are you serious? This is ridiculous! Where did the other bedroll go?”

“Probably lost in the snow somewhere but I would honestly much rather be sleeping right now than trying to guess at things I may never have an answer to. So. Shove. Over. I will not say it again.”

Ignoring Madara’s voice shouting in his ear was as easy as tuning him out, a feat barely comparable to the task of tuning out Hashirama in the middle of high drama. Tobirama untied his armor and set it all aside carefully. By the time he turned back he noticed that, although the screaming hadn’t so much as paused, Madara had gone ahead and moved over a few inches anyway. He did give vent to a few choked noises when Tobirama slid in under the covers with him but it wasn’t difficult to parse out why. Tobirama was still up on one elbow when he paused to examine their situation.

Which way was he supposed to face? They would both be warmer if he faced inwards and curled himself around Madara’s back but such a position felt much too intimate. Facing away from each other would be blessedly less intimate but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot of space on the mat beneath them and it would take only a single shift for one of them to roll away from the other, taking all the blankets with them. Sleeping on his back was generally the way he preferred but, again, space was the main issue. He would have to lay half on the snow to do that. 

“Just...just pick something and go to sleep,” Madara grumbled.

“Eager to cuddle?” Tobirama snapped at him, a response born more of habit than any particular ire. 

“Fuck off!” 

Just for that Tobirama slumped down on to his right side and made sure to curl in as close as possible, grinning viciously to himself as the other man stiffened noticeably. He himself was far from immune to the awkwardness but petty spite had always driven him faster than any care for his own comfort. If Madara hated this then he would lie here awake all night before he rolled over to make them both comfortable. 

It would have been nice, he admitted silently after several minutes, having enough mercy in his soul to relent and just roll over. Tomorrow promised to be an absolute bastard of a day, not least because the task of digging them out of this place would undoubtedly fall mostly on his own shoulders. He definitely could use some rest before tackling that. Instead he lay there with eyes wide open staring at the back of Madara’s head and wondering what reactions he might get if he pulled on some of that bristling hair. Almost as though the man could hear his thoughts Madara curled in to himself a little tighter. The movement was an innocent one. The way it pushed Madara’s rump in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips was most decidedly not an innocent result even if it was obviously unintentional. 

“Nnngg!?” 

“Very intelligent,” Tobirama breathed, not wanting to speak louder for fear the sudden rush of want running through him might be heard in his voice. 

“That wasn’t- I didn’t- fuck off, Senju!” 

“I will have you know that it is taking all of my energy not to instinctually respond with an implication you would rather I fuck you instead.”

Madara’s screech could probably be heard through the several feet of snow blocking their cave entrance. “It doesn’t count if you still say it you idiot!” 

Yet for all the screaming protests he went on to ring both of their ears with, Madara’s reaction notably lacked one thing. He never once tried to move away. Oh he waved the arm he wasn’t lying on and jawed until Tobirama began to wonder if he wasn’t wearing down the bones of his own skull from overuse but not once did he so much as tilt his hips in to a different position. 

Such telling body language gave Tobirama all the clues he needed to figure out exactly what he’d missed in their earlier conversation. It was possible these types of clues were something he’d been missing in all of their past interactions, body language he never noticed simply because he tried to look at the other man as little as possible. To his shame such a habit had been built entirely on the premise that Madara hated it when people didn’t pay attention to him. From now on he promised himself he would pay closer attention - even if he might not let Madara see such efforts. Just because he was begrudgingly interested didn’t mean he was willing to set that spite down just yet. Some habits took longer to break than others. 

And some would never fade but maybe that was more of a personal failing than anything else. 

“White flag.” The words were out and hanging in the air before Tobirama even realized his mouth had decided to speak before his brain had a proper sentence ready. In front of him Madara stiffened impossibly further. 

“The hell are you on about?”

“I...am waving a white flag. We both need rest. This is, ah, comfortable enough. Let’s just put any further arguments or conversations on hold until tomorrow and go to sleep.” 

Madara seemed to chew that over for a moment until he asked very quietly, “Like this?” 

“I am comfortable if you are.”

He half expected to have the man roll over and deck him in the face for such presumptions. When the silence began to stretch he wondered if he was meant to take it as agreement until he heard very quiet words drift back to caress his ears, a softer sound than he had ever heard from this man in his life. 

“Your arms’ll go numb sleeping like that. Might as well...might as well stretch them out.” 

“Ah. I didn’t presume-”

Tobirama cleared his throat before very carefully shifting back to make room for where both of his arms were folded tightly against Madara’s back. When he stretched one out neither of them said anything about Madara lifting his head to make room for it beneath the pillow they shared. And when he stretched the other out with very delicate movements they both remained utterly silent as he laid it gently across Madara’s waist. 

It was the subtle relaxing of all the muscles pressed up against his front that finally made everything click. Oh but he was a blind man. A very blind man with terrible vision to boot. If anyone asked he was going to blame every misunderstanding on the man in his arms with zero shame. 

Tomorrow they would wake to fight their way past the snow and put in at least a token effort to find their wayward client. Somewhere along the way they would search for the supplies that got lost in the shuffle. But as he closed his eyes Tobirama smiled to realize neither one of them was likely to put a whole lot of work in to finding that second bedroll they had lost, not when it seemed their newly discovered bond was something Madara wanted much more than he’d let on before. 

[danger-xylophones]

The Senator and the Hunter (Cad Bane x reader)

{masterlist}

Warnings: some suggestive dialogue

Notes: Cad Bane fluff! Cad Bane fluff! Cad Bane fluff! Cad Bane fluff! CAD BANE FLUFF!

I wanted this to be gender-neutral but there aren’t any pet names in the Durese language that are gender-neutral. 

Can we do away with ‘beautiful’ being used in a feminine sense? I call mountains beautiful and I don’t think they’re ladies. Let beautiful be neutral. 

Tags: @lifelikefae Here ya go! :D

…………………...

Swish, swish, swish, the fabric of your pant legs brushing against each other echoed in the tense room inhabited only by you. Your brow hurt from being furrowed for so long, your bottom lip had been worried into oblivion, and your previously expertly styled hair had been mussed as if you’d just rolled out of bed. You were sure that if someone from the speedway looked into your office right now they would see some scowling, pacing hermit who was frustrated at the galaxy and the datapad in their hands. That is if anyone was able to see into the tinted windows of the senate building. 

You hadn’t had any clue how long you’d spent on this one bill but guessing 72 standard hours didn’t feel too far off. A part of you wanted to be angry that you’d had to spend so long on the bill proposed by Bail Organa but the other part reasoned that it was a necessity if you wanted your voice to be heard amongst the cacophonous shouting of the other senators. It was an important bill, after all, it was one that would determine whether or not more clones were supposed to be purchased. Still, back and forth you walked: the light, royal blue fabric of your pants following the movements. It was a miracle you hadn’t worn a hole in the rug. 

With a tired sigh, you lowered the datapad to tap against your thigh while one hand shot to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your eyes were starting to burn. Maybe it was time to call it quits? tell Bail you would have to vote against him unless the Jedi made significant process in the days leading up to the vote? You didn’t know. 

A blaring sound cut through your deliberation, startling you enough to toss the datapad as the room was bathed in red and metal shutters slid down over the large windows. The previously tired sigh took a turn to be frustrated instead. A lockdown was not something you wanted to deal with right now. As calmly as your tired body would allow you moved to your desk to retrieve the small pistol you kept in the top drawer and tucked it into the back pocket of your slacks before moving to the designated hiding place in your office. You had just punched in the code to the small safe room when a thud sounded from behind you. You froze, hand shooting to the pistol in an instant as you hid yourself behind the curtains that concealed the door to the safe room. 

The intruder’s steps could still be heard over the annoying blare of the siren which told you they were approaching and doing so swiftly. With a small click, you took the pistol off safety. The intruder froze on the other side of the curtain-the only indicator of where they were being the quiet sound of shifting fabric. Wanting to get the drop on whoever had decided that breaking into the senate building and specifically your office was a good idea, you itched your hand forward to grasp the fabric of the curtains so you could rip it out of the way. There was a click on the other side of the curtain and you launched into action. The deep red fabric was forced out of your way as you raised the pistol high, ready to fire at whoever was standing in your office. What you weren’t expecting was the sight of two familiar pistols being pointed right back at you. You followed the guns up the arms that pointed them till your eyes locked with a set of crimson ones. 

“Cad.” You sighed. 

“Senator.” He responded, his familiar modulated drawl dancing over your ears. You remained like that for a few seconds, just staring at each other as though daring the other to make a move. Cad would be the first. Without looking away from you, he lowered his pistols and returned them to their holsters before pressing a few buttons on his wrist to turn off the alarm-the red emergency light going away with it although the windows remained shuttered and the door was still probably locked. Still, you followed his lead and put your own weapon back. 

“Cad,” you sighed again and stepped towards him, “What were you doing? I could have shot you!” You tried to rebuke him though you knew it would be a futile effort. 

“Not with that aim.” Cad replied in a smooth tone, crossing his arms as he did. You mimicked his posture though with an added pout. 

“Hey, I’m getting better!” You whinged, earning a disbelieving huff from the bounty hunter. “You didn’t answer my question though. What are you doing here?” 

“I felt like paying my senator a visit.” He continued in that smooth, unperturbed tone-as though breaking into the senate building wasn’t a massive violation of Republic law-as he moved back into the main section of your office. You followed behind the bounty hunter with a rather dopey smile on your face despite the situation. You wiped it from your lips though as soon as Bane turned around, determined to keep up the facade. 

You cleared your throat. “I wasn’t aware I was representing Duro now.” The reply slipped from you with ease, a stark contrast to the early days with Bane when you would never dare to tease him. 

“Don’t get lippy with me, mulk.” Cad narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to you. 

“I’ll get lippy with whoever I please, hud.” You sassed right back with hands on your hips as you also took a step forward. If Cad Bane had a nose, your own would be bumping against it. “Especially, if they decide to interrupt me while I’m working.” You raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to challenge you. “I don’t interfere with your work, love, so please don’t interfere with mine.” 

“Please,” Cad huffed again though with an added smirk that told you he’d found your attempts at rebuking him amusing, “I was watching ya early, jewel, you clearly needed a distraction.” 

Your eyebrow raised a little higher. “Watching me? Charming, Cad.” You shook your head and stepped back to make your way to your desk. “You really know how to make a senator swoon, baniss.” You tried to hide the mirth that permeated your voice with a forceful plop into your seat although you were certain the seasoned bounty hunter could still hear it. 

Cad chuckled, the sound so warm and deep that it made your heart flutter, as he leaned over to catch the arms of your chair. “Just the one, izrin.” Cad smirked and dipped his head enough to catch your lips with his. You melted into him, hands sliding up his arms till you could loop them around his neck. Cad groaned and pressed forward, ignoring the somewhat awkward pose he was in as he leaned down to kiss you. It was unbelievable how much you’d missed each other in the brief time apart. You pulled back to catch your breath, smiling as you did so, and nonchalantly plucked Bane’s hat off his head. 

“I’m glad you’re back, love, but was all this necessary?” You asked, holding his hat in one hand and using the other to vaguely gesture to the windows. “You couldn’t have sent me a message telling me to meet you somewhere or something less...conspicuous?” You asked as you continued to fiddle with his hat, even going so far as to place it on your head. 

Bane watched you carefully as you messed with his most iconic article of clothing. “‘Thought I’d try and impress ya.” He simpered with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes at him-of course he just wanted to show off. “You don’t need to impress me, baniss. You know that, right?” 

“I know,” Cad stood up and stretched, fixing the door with a bored stare that had you questioning if he still had it locked, “just felt like it.” There was a pause before he turned back to you and gave you a once over. “You look cute in my hat.” You tilted your head-Cad called you a lot of things: sexy, beautiful, hot, and breathtaking being the primaries when it came to commenting on your appearance but cute was a new one. It prompted you to look up at the brim of the hat. 

“Thanks, though I don’t think it really goes with my outfit.” You laughed. You had to look ridiculous clad in dark blue slacks, a white sweater, and your boyfriend’s large, leather wide-brimmed hat. 

“Please, you could wear anything and you’d still look good.” The bounty hunter looked away as he said that and you smiled. Cad Bane was hard to read even on a good day but you’d been together long enough to know that the only thing that could make the man nervous was complimenting you. It was a bizarre effect you had on him and one that Cad didn’t always know how to handle. One of the ways he hid it though was by looking away from you. Smirking like the loth-cat that got the cream, you stood up and strode towards him till you could wrap your arms around his waist. He stiffened up before placing his hands over your own.

“Thank you, my love. I’d say the same but I prefer you wearing nothing.” You practically purred into his back, just waiting to hear how he’d follow that up. 

“Oh, jewel, those are dangerous words.” He murmured and turned around in your arms to grasp your shoulders. One of his hands came up to grasp your chin. “Anyone could walk in and see us.”

“How’s it dangerous…” You began as you plucked Bane’s hat off your head and placed it back on his. You brought your hands down to grab at the lapels of his coat to pull him down to your height. “If you’re the one controlling the door?” As if on cue, a knock sounded on the metal door and the familiar sound of a clone calling out interrupted you. With a sigh and roll of your eyes you pulled away from Cad and made your way to the door. Before you got to it though, you sent him a pointed look that had the bounty hunter sighing and pressing another button on his wrist to unlock it so you could send the clone on his way. With that taken care of and the metal coverings and lockdown dismissed as a glitch the door slid shut and you were once again left alone with Cad. There was the familiar beep to alert you that the door had locked. As slowly as you could, you spun around to face the room again. 

Only to find that Cad had moved to your desk chair just so he could kick his boots up on your desk. “Well, senator. You up for a little danger?”

............................................

Translations-

baniss-handsome

hud-hunter 

izrin-beautiful

mulk-speaker, politician

[youraveragebtsstan]

A Buddie FanFic: "The Things We Never Could Say" (A Season 4, Episode 13 Epilogue)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Buck x Eddie (Buddie), Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley & Edmundo ‘Eddie’ Diaz

Word Count: 2.3k (2,266)

Summary: Buck knew he would have to face his feelings sooner or later, but he never thought he might not get the chance. As his best friend lies in the hospital suffering from the wounds of a sniper, Buck struggles with the idea of losing the love of his life, without the possibility of saying the things he’s always wanted to say. (Events of this Fic take place after the final scene of Season 4, Episode 13. As of writing/posting this Fic, Episode 14 has not yet aired.)

AO3 (Archive Of Our Own) Link: Click Here

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

Night had come in a blur.

The sun had faded, smearing itself in the sky, until there was nothing left; not even the moon. The sky was simply dark. There was no need for Buck to look up just to know he was alone. Though, it was nothing more than a feeling… He knew.

For the past few hours, time swayed by drunkenly. Buck swore he was still standing under the sun. He breathed in the daylight, exhaling something of content when the first shot was fired. He didn’t recall hearing anything. Not the sound of the bullet rattling through the barrel nor the screams of those that cried out in a panic as they fled around him. His focus was occupied by more important things.

The look of confusion on Eddie’s face burned, etched in his mind. As his body jerked at the push, he fell limp. A fearful stare gleamed in his eyes as he laid on the ground; the hand that reached out as his blood pooled around him… his blood. Buck could still feel the warmth of Eddie’s blood as it splattered on the side of his face; soaking into his hair, it melted onto his shirt. The stains had already dried, cracking on his skin.

Blinking into reality, the sounds of the faucet drew him in. His head hung low in the bathroom mirror. Leaning against the sink, he watched the water flow down the drain for what seemed like an eternity.

How did he get here?

All Buck could remember was climbing in the ambulance, sitting by Eddie’s side. He remembered holding onto the gurney as they rushed him through the hospital doors. Chaos ensued as doctors and nurses shouted to each other, carting in other victims one by one. He remembered sitting in the waiting room, eventually pacing the halls as his adrenaline struggled to catch up with his surroundings. As he tried to trek through the mess that was his thoughts, he began to get overwhelmed. When did he leave the hospital? He was too afraid to leave; afraid he would miss something important. No, he wouldn’t have left on his own accord. He couldn’t have. Did someone bring him home? He couldn’t imagine driving himself, not in his condition. He was disoriented and absent-minded. Had he told anyone about Eddie being shot? Did Maddie know? Chim? What about Christopher?

Right, he still had to tell Christopher… He remembered calling Carla shortly after arriving at the hospital; blood smearing on his screen as he swiped to find her number. Thankfully, she and Christopher spent the day together, visiting the park and an ice cream parlor or two. Buck breathed a little easier, knowing Christopher had a few more hours of joy remaining. Carla, being the kind woman she was, assured Buck she would stay by the younger’s side until he went home to clean himself up and pack a bag for the next few nights.

Right, he needed to get moving.

Taking a shallow breath, he glanced toward the shower, eyeing the handle. Buck struggled as he tried to get his feet to move. Glued to the ground, he moved not a single inch. All he needed to do was turn the handle. He had done this countless times, hell he somehow managed to turn the sink on, so why was now so hard? Rolling his neck in frustration, he caught a glimpse of his reflection; he nearly jumped out of his skin. His hair was matted, shirt drenched in sweat and blood. His skin was dirtied in debris; eyes red and glossy, sunken into their sockets. He looked nothing like himself. In fact, he had made up his mind the man before him was a mirage. The pit in his stomach gaped deeper.

Pushing off the sink, he made his way up to his room. He threw open the closet doors, yanking a couple shirts form their hangers. Tossing them in a bag along with a few pairs of boxers and socks he plucked from his drawers, he left his room in disarray. Like a tornado let loose upon his home, nothing was done with care. He felt as if time were slipping through his fingers. Dropping the bag to the floor, he fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. He couldn’t wait to get this thing off his body. He found it hard to move with it on. It weighed heavy on his chest. Unclasping the final button, he crumpled it in his hands, throwing it in the trash can next to his bed. His breath trembled as he breathed in. Though the shackles had been removed, he still trapped; the metal rattling in his lungs. The dried blood on his skin cracked as it crawled along his face.

Buck tried to shake the feeling. It wasn’t real, how could it be?

Trotting down the stairs, he raced to the sink, wanting to drown the sensation in the water. With each step, it’s grip around his throat grew tighter.

Plunging his head under the bathroom faucet, he gasped for air. Cupping his hands, he scrubbed his face, mashing his nose and cheeks in abstract circles. It burned the blood away like acid. His lashes were heavy as they dripped, water falling from his hair, down his nose and back. Small puddles could be found along the floor. Buck braced himself on the edge of the sink. Blowing water past his lips, his breathing lay labored. He gripped the sink tighter; fingers turning a muted shade of white.

Soon, a cry burst from his lips. Through gritted teeth, it resembled a groan of agony. Shaking uncontrollably, tears breached their waterlines. Falling against the wall, he slid to the floor, curling his knees to his chest. He had been sleepwalking. Numb for the remainder of the day, his body functioned purely on autopilot. Finally, his emotions gave in; exhausted and overwhelmed, he cried.

There was no one around to comfort him. No one he could call to ease his racing mind. The one person he needed the most, was the one who left him here alone. He needed Eddie. After all, Eddie was supposed to be there. He promised to have his back, just as Buck swore to have his. He tried to think of Eddie. In a different moment other than today, he played any memory he could think of. Something that would save him from himself. As Buck laid his head against the wall, he stared mindlessly into the faucet.

Funny enough, his thoughts dragged him to another heartbreak. He remembered how he felt the night of the tsunami, ringing and twisting the bands of Christopher’s glasses in his hands. He had spent hours wandering various medical tents, calling out the boy’s name to the point of  blistered feet and a scratchy throat. Tears overflowed his eyes as he fought to look Eddie in his… those brown eyes he adored so much. His heart exploded with relief the moment he saw Christopher back in Eddie’s arms safe and sound; knees buckling underneath him. Wrapped in Eddie’s arms is where things seemed the safest.

He remembered how angry Eddie was when he filed the lawsuit against the department. How Eddie saw red that day in the grocery store. The hurt in his voice masked by rage, as he clenched his fists by his side- Buck swore he was going to hit him… He wouldn’t have mind. The rattle of a fist against his jaw would have felt better than the hole in his heart. The hole Eddie dug deeper the more he ignored him; declining his calls and leaving his texts on read. Though he never admitted it, he cried on occasion. While everyone else ran off on calls, Buck often locked himself in the showers, stood with his back against the door as tears streamed down his face. Drawing a wedge between him and his best friend, he hated his pride that led him to isolation. He hated being alone…

So when Eddie was there for him after his world came crashing down, it was no wonder he couldn’t find the words to describe his appreciation. After 12 years of deceit finally coming to light, Buck found himself in a screaming match with his parents. He felt like a child again. Betrayed and neglected, Buck rambled on and on for what seemed like days at a time- Eddie was there to listen. He made him feel heard. Listening to his various monologues through FaceTime, even as Buck began to blame himself, doubling back on his words and dismissing his own feelings, Eddie always made him feel valid.

Eddie was always there… except now. Why couldn’t he be there now?

Why was he laying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life with IVs and monitors taped to him? It seemed so minute, a shot to the shoulder. If only they had rushed Eddie out of there like he begged, like he pleaded, he would have been fine. There would have been no need for him to pack a bag preparing to spend countless nights between a couch and the hospital. He wouldn’t need to tell Christopher his father’s not coming home tonight, if he came home at all. If only they let him pull Eddie to safety, things would have been fine… But instead first responders hid behind their cars, piling on top of each other, holding him down while Eddie laid in the middle of the street bleeding.

God, he had lost so much blood… Why did they waste so much time?

Time… Buck began to think rationally for a moment, his hopes growing high. Maybe if he showered quick enough, he could go back to the hospital and sit for a while- not for hours like he had before, but maybe an hour or two before Carla went home for the night. Though, he would be wasting away in the hallway; knee bouncing, rattling the chairs next to him. He probably would have worn his nails down to nubs before the doctor came back with any news. Buck pulled his thumb from his mouth at the thought; an old nervous habit rearing its ugly head. He clawed at his jeans, finding other use for his hands. Another the image of Eddie came to mind. Reaching out his hand as he laid on his side, Buck reached further, hoping he could feel his touch only feeling the rough touch of denim.

If only this once, he could hold Eddie’s hand.

He wanted to be by his side, waiting until he woke up… He wanted to be the first thing Eddie would see- not just in the hospital, but all the time. On the weekends, when they were both rarely off from work, he wanted to wake up next to Eddie; seeing him roll over in the sheets, sun shining in his face. On lazy afternoons, when Eddie sometimes napped at the fire station, Buck wanted to see that moment again. The man curled up on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, face plastered in bliss. He wanted to wrap his arms around Eddie as he cooked; with music playing in the background, dancing as he often did when he made dinner. Buck wanted to hold him in his arms, his head laying on his shoulder. That would be his own piece of peace.

The more Buck thought, the more he realized the two men had created a special type of love. Sure it was undefined, maybe even unconventional, but it was love nonetheless. As the wise words of a man he once met ran in his ears, Buck found himself laughing. Tears dried on his cheeks, nose no longer running, he remained laying against the wall, his laugh deep and therapeutic. He used to long for a love like this. Hoping for the day he would stumble upon it, unaware such a sacred love could only be made, molded with one’s own two hands- and By God, they had done it! He loved everything that ever was about Eddie Diaz. He had known for quite some time, the feeling of being in love. Constantly hiding his true feelings and for what reason? It was times like this, he wished he hadn’t. If only he had told him before…

That’s it, he thought to himself. As the light bulb flickered on above his head, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. He cleared his throat with a start. Standing, he flipped the handle on his shower wall, water spitting from the head as a result. Staring in the mirror, reminisce of himself began to reappear. He raised his chin, breathing deep. You got this. There was no need in holding himself down, torturing himself with a nonsensical life without Eddie. He didn’t have time to marvel over ‘what ifs’ or hypotheticals. Reality was now; a breath of fresh air compared to the sadness he had been drowning himself in. From that moment on, he would only allow himself to think fact, for fiction was too painful.

Fact, Eddie was going to be fine. The surgery would go well, and he would return home in no time.

Fact, Eddie would tuck Christopher into bed again. He would once again read his son his favorite stories as he drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Fact, when Eddie did open his eyes, Buck was going to be there… Sitting by his bedside, he would be holding his hand, ready to say the things he never could say.

Completed On: May. 23th 2021

Written By: Carmen Feaster (YourAverageBTSStan)

Feel Free To Reblog- Just Give Credit

[bakugohoex]

chapter one ➺ auld rivals

pairing: pro hero katsuki bakugo x pro hero female reader

cw: language and angry boi

word count: 2000+

a/n: omfg sorry for positing this at midnight but hope you guys like chapter one i think it’s starting off good so far and this is defo a slow burn so don’t expect action until later on

summary: in which you and bakugo are rivals always competing against one another, you get called into the commission late at night, unbeknownst that bakugo is there you arrive expecting nothing important but instead are met face to face with the president herself

masterlist | chapter two 

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Blood dripped from the side of his face, his breathing heavy and resting on his lips was a smirk. The god damn cocky smile that you wanted to punch out of him. “Fucking hell Y/n only 10 people saved, someone’s doing shit.” You scowled how could he talk about saving people when you were the one who was making sure buildings stopped falling on him and the civilians.

All his quirk was bang bang explosions, nothing special. Yours on the other hand telepathy and psychokinesis one hundred times better than shitty Bakugo’s quirk. He would always prance around acting like a penguin with his ass on fire as if he had been the one saving people. All he did was carry them away, you on the other hand, stopping buildings and rubble fall off them with your mind. 

It was a lot harder than Bakugo thought, one wrong thought and everything would come crashing down. But what did you care? His opinion meant nothing and as long as the people were saved that’s all that really mattered. The  stars guided the darkness like a picture-perfect scene, the only torments being the blond beside you explosions in hand and the A rank villain in front of you. 

“Let me handle this.” You were going to have your glory if it was the last thing you’d do, you didn’t want the glory of praise and admiration. You wanted Katsuki Bakugo on his knees admitting that you were better than him. 

You activated your telepathy going into his head, “don’t you fucking dare.” He was unable to move and that’s all you wanted him to do, his silence and lack of movement confirmed he was obeying you before you turned to the villain, their quirk seemed to melt away things it touched. 

You ran up to it, the sweat falling down from your body. You had made a hero costume which suited you and had easy mobility allowing you to not only use your psychokinesis to trap the rubble around the villains arms but to easily run and jump onto objects to kick the villains down. Their arms became trapped as it had already begun to melt away the concrete that you latched onto it and before you could use your quirk you felt the melted away rubble hit your body. 

“Fuck.” A low whisper came as you could hear Bakugo’s thoughts, the hatred he had pent up to you but his inability to move suppressing him. Maybe it was selfish to let your own aspirations get in the way of a quick defeat, but where’s the fun in that. 

You used your quirk effectively getting inside the villain as you prevented it touching anything before grabbing the discarded metal from the destruction that had been caused prior. Metal surrounded your arms as you made it move along with your walking. Both your quirks in action before you pushed everything you had onto the villain. Their movement limited as they were trapped underneath, you heard nor saw no movement and the smirk you felt on your face rise made Bakugo’s blood boil. 

You stopped manipulating Bakugo as he ran towards you quirk raised, you could almost feel the explosions and burning sensation his pace quickening. “Bakugo don’t you dare, or I’ll get inside your head again and we both don’t want that.” 

Telepathy took a toll on you the majority of the times, hearing thoughts and emotions wasn’t something you were too fond of doing. The villain in question had transformed back into a human having previously been a sluggish type of creature, he was knocked unconsciousness, you both saw the police force come and arrest him. 

“Don’t you ever fucking do that shit again Y/n.” Bakugo raised his voice catching the attention of the police force and commission representatives. 

You crossed your arms raising an eyebrow, “I’m the one who defeated the villain.” He was furious, the rage that filled inside of him was more than he could ever imagine, and it was going towards a pipsqueak like you. 

“You got into my head and prevented me from doing my job you dumbass.” His knuckles had turned white at the clenched fist he was making. You had pissed him off and all you could give him was a shrug. 

“Shitty woman.” He could say all he wanted about you, but you didn’t care. 

You didn’t expect him to get on your knees for you, but you were doing your job, and logically you knew that if he used his quirk it would have no effect on this type of villain. You were able to suppress and defeat him and with both you and Bakugo fighting together the chances of risk increased. It wasn’t that you assumed the level of  risk would be high, you knew you had worked it out whilst preventing rubble from falling from civilians. And one of the likely outcomes that had the highest percentage was Bakugo melting away. 

You would never tell him you suppressed him to save him, you’d rather he be pissed with you then even consider that you two were more than rivals. He had left to go back to the agency, whilst you explained what happened to the police force knowing you’d be the one to have to do the paperwork. 

You signed walking back as well, it had reached pitch darkness by the time you arrived back, stripping the costume off, the long-sleeved black leotard covering most of your body, with exposed legs which were covered by thigh highs that went right up to your mid-thigh. 

Your quirk didn’t mean you necessarily needed any fancy costume but the one you wore made it easier to move especially the gloves on your hands which allowed for more materials to be controlled around your fingers. It was a benefit of some sorts; a black necklace went around your neck which allowed for a lack of nausea to occur. It was common for you to vomit up after controlling too many people back in your UA days but now it was less common, only a mild headache occurring. 

Wearing normal clothes, you grabbed your bags knowing your patrol was over and you could have a weekend of relaxation. Mina and Momo having invited the girls for a catchup, it had been months since you last saw them and to have a catchup on life events was a must. You all had been busy and as you all grew older the busier everybody got, even the boys seemed to have their own lives. You didn’t mind but working alongside Bakugo in the same agency was a pain, you never expected it once graduating together but now you and Bakugo were like auld rivals. 

You saw Bakugo at the front entrance he was on the phone as he paced back and forth. Probably one of his hook ups telling him he’s the father, you didn’t dare look into his thoughts, it was his private life and in honesty it made you uncomfortable. 

He saw you walking out, you easily passed him he was still pissed by how his voice raised even more. Someone had made him even angrier than before clearly; you didn’t bother to ask mainly due to not caring. 

A couple signs and vulgar swears came out of his mouth, you didn’t know if it was a friend, mother or even some from above but you stopped caring once you heard something from your bag. 

Your phone ringing loudly, you hated phone calls even from your own parents, the idea of talking to people wherever you were was disgusting. That didn’t mean you hated people you just liked your own space and liked hanging out with people on your own accord. You answered the unknown number you were met with someone you never expected. 

“This is Y/n Y/l/n.” They were almost unsure themselves, why call if you don’t know if you’re talking to the right person. 

“Ugh yeah.” You were hesitant not liking the weakness of not being able to hear or know the other person’s thoughts on the other side. 

You heard a sign of relief as they spoke again, “thank God, we thought you had been sent to the hospital, it’s the Hero Public Safety commission, I work under the president and we want to see you.” 

“You didn’t have to make it so dramatic” You mutter barely audible, “I’ll be there.” 

She says no more hanging up, you hated being called to the commission, they had no need to directly go to you when they could just go to someone who truly cared about the formalities, all you wanted to do was save people and piss Bakugo off, but no something always seemed to happen. 

You turned around walking back the way you came from, passing the agency, Bakugo had probably already gone home himself. Why the fuck did you have to go to the commission why couldn’t that shitty man get called in as well? 

You didn’t hate Bakugo you were just tired and hated how he could go home probably to a nice warm bed whilst you had to take detours for hells know what reasons. 

Finally arriving after your unrelieved feelings had become dull to bare, you walked inside a man already waiting for you. You followed trying to get some sort of vibe from the man, you couldn’t bare to read his thoughts knowing it’d be emotional with anxieties over work so tried to look at him seeing if he had anything to him that showed hope. 

He didn’t! He led you to the presidents office after a silent ride u the elevator, you didn’t mean to stare at the man, but you wanted to know if he had any clue of what was going on. And when you did finally get into his brain it was more worries about if his wife would let him in the house for being late. 

A bore as you had thought, the double doors enticed you to come forward, someone was already waiting in the chair as you walked in, what you hadn’t realised was a woman had been walking back out. You both crashed into each other and her papers fell everywhere, using your quirk you gathered the papers quickly preventing them for falling on the ground and getting muddled up, the papers rested back in her arms as you helped her up. 

“Sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You hummed an its okay before seeing the president. It was a shock to see her the one leading this meeting but you didnt ask just wanting to get it over and done with.

“Agh Y/n so glad you could join us, take a seat.” At the sight of your name being spoken the man quickly turned his head, and it was someone you hadn’t expected. 

Bakugo sat on the chair, angry as always. You sat beside him, his glare on your body, he watched intentively as you tried to make him stop by glaring back. 

“What’s the stupid psychic doing here?” You continued to glare but at the word psychic you got pissed, you weren’t a stupid fake psychic and it irritated you when he said it.

The president watched you both glaring it was a sight to say the least, you were on the verge of pushing his chair over and you could already sense explosions about to appear before she finally cleared her throat before speaking. 

“We didn’t call you both here to fight we have a proposition for you two.” You both gave blank looks before Bakugo spoke. 

“If you want us to do some shitty work in other fields than I’m already out.” Bakugo was ready to leave. You nodded in agreement not wanting to be involved as some promoter for a shitty energy drink to be sold to the youth. Both ready to leave on your own accords, the president finally turned away looking out through the glass windows admiring the stars and the moon which shone throughout the blues and blacks of the sky. It was a river of opportunity that you had often admired whilst on patrols. 

She spoke again but this time the next words that came out of her mouth had stopped you both in your thoughts. “What do you two know about the Paranormal Liberation Front?”

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[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [x-x] [6] [7] [8-9] [10]

PART 4 – Coping

Qrow isn't exactly the intimidating uncle so much as he is the nervous older friend. Sure, he comes in with cheek and swagger, but he hesitates sometimes and watches what he says. Things are uncomfortable for a while.

Jaune and Qrow are sitting alone on the sofa, eyes passed the TV and out the window. Jaune breaks the silence and asks him how he knew. Qrow, surprisingly, explains that he turned into a bird and followed them home. He fully intended to leave when they got into the door but then he overheard the bit about Ruby going missing so he sat by the window and waited for updates.

He fell asleep on the windowsill.

Yang's moaning woke him up.

Both men don't even dare look each other in the eye. They both agree not to bring that up with her for as long as they live.

It's minutes later after they've both taken a swig from their flasks that Qrow asks, "So what are you two?"

"I don't know," he answers; almost apologetic. Almost fearful, but not of Qrow. "We're close and trying to… forget things."

"Yeah, I can see that." Qrow takes another swig. "Tell me, is this about Tai and Rae?"

"More than a little, yeah."

"Those two idiots aren't the least bit careful anymore… I'm sorry she's lumping it onto you. If I'd done better, none of this would have happened."

"I don't mind just listening to her."

"I know. It's the fact that she has to go through it at all… She's still in school. Distractions are dangerous when you're still fresh on the hunt."

Jaune laughs. "She's been doing this for years. If anything, I'm the one that's still green."

"You runts don't get to be proper huntsmen unless you've faced a real, proper threat or graduated. To a licensed huntsman, there's a reason why you're all still in-training. All the glory and shit is the stuff you gotta revel in while you're still in the safety of these halls instead of roughing it in the wilds day after day, facing odds stacked against you."

Qrow is amicable, asking only that he doesn't also seduce Ruby. Jaune's confusion is answer enough. He's no Casanova. He isn't Taiyang. Qrow has it that he believes men like him are unprepared as partners and fathers. Jaune disagrees, saying that his own father was like Tai. To him, any man can work their way into being a proper partner.

They talk about it for long enough that Yang stumbles back into the apartment. She hopes Qrow hasn't spilled any embarrassing stories about her.

They're deftly quiet at that.

-0-

Yang doesn't stay long (it isn't like she spends every weekend with him after all), but she lingers at the door. She hears their muffled voices through the gaps but she doesn't strain her ears to decipher them. She isn't here to eavesdrop.

She hears them laugh. Briefly, she wonders if even Qrow knows Jaune more than she does.

Breathing evenly, she calms the fiery doubts and walks off.

-0-

"What are your intentions?" Qrow asks an hour later, once he's sure Yang is long gone because of course he knows when she's there.

"We didn't sleep together."

Qrow winces at the thought of them. Then it's so deeply uncomfortable that his whole body shudders. "Ah, god, fuck! Damn it, kid, I don't want to think about you two naked! How would you feel if I shared my stories with you!"

Jaune, similarly, melts down at the thought.

Yang actually comes back because she forgot Ember Celica. She hears them freaking out through the door and pivots into the other direction. Blake asks about her bracelets. Yang says it isn't important right now.

-0-

Jaune and Qrow sip their flasks at the same time. They joke about it.

When it's quieter, Qrow can see in his eyes that he wants to ask something so he encourages him to.

Jaune, with an uneasy breath, asks what Qrow is always drinking to forget.

Turns out, he doesn't drink to forget. Drinking is when he does the most thinking, actually.

Drinking is a hobby. Less a recreational drug and more a medicinal one. "Confused? Let me explain…" He doesn't recommend it but he's built up such a tolerance for it before he even went to be Beacon as a kid that it's all basically like water to him. Alcohol isn't his coping mechanism, but he confesses that he does technically have one if it can be called that.

He lost an old friend a long time ago and he isn't sure if his semblance is to blame. The thought has haunted him since. Grief mixed so deeply with poisoned guilt has made him obsessed with loneliness.

He enjoys the quiet nights sitting alone at home, eying the moon, dreaming of what ifs. He enjoys sitting in meadows, letting Summer heat hold him like a familiar embrace. He enjoys hunting solo and coming out on top, all in her name. It's proof that, even in death, she's still the best partner he ever had.

Alcohol is normalcy. It's where he thinks the most clearly, acts the most boldly, acts like himself. Being sober unsettles his mind, makes him act irrationally.

Somehow it makes sense. He always did seem the more sober man when he's got a flask in his hand. Even subconsciously, Jaune realizes that he's made that his gospel.

Qrow warns that it certainly isn't the same way with Jaune. (Jaune knows, of course. His tolerance is likely as weak Ruby's might be.) But Qrow confesses to being more worried about what he might do if he drinks too much. He saw all the whiskey in the fridge.

"I'm not going to hurt Yang. I stop myself from going too far."

"I don't mean Yang. She can handle herself around you, I'm sure." Qrow shows him a photo on his scroll. "This is what I'm worried about."

Jaune reels. He feels a few things. Mostly anguish, discomfort. Saphron and Terra are in Vale.

"When was this?"

"This morning. I thought they'd show up today and that I could be your convenient alibi for having an occupied guest room once they dropped in, but it looks they're busy doing whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing in the city."

"They're going to come by eventually. Even if not today then…"

"I can't stay, kid," Qrow says, cautiously, quietly. "You facing them is just as inevitable as their visit. I'm no good at this stuff but... my advice: Don't run."

-0-

Yang comes back to Jaune sat at the sofa, staring at a movie he isn't watching. Yang turns it off and when the screen buzzes into silence, Jaune finally realizes she's in the room.

He doesn't notice the many bags she brought with her.

When she asks what's going on, he tells her that Terra is in town.

Yang asks if Saphron is with her.

He realizes that he forgot to mention his own sister.

Yang takes his hand and leans into his side. "It's that bad, huh?"

His free hand pulls out the now empty flask. "I might need more than the watered down whiskey."

She sits on his lap and pushes his flask away. "Get drunk on me." Her eyes are half-lidded and pleading, a promise etched into the wetness of her lips and heat rolling off her breath.

He does what she asks.

They press together so closely that he feels another one of inhibitions snap.

That night he decides – without really thinking about why – to steal a kiss while she sleeps. He realizes that the gesture is far too affectionate than it should be but can't bring himself to regret it.

She was awake the whole time.

-0-

PART 5 – Accommodation

Yang fixates on the kiss. Not that it's changed how she feels or how she's going to feel, only that she wonders what's changed for him with her. She finds herself lingering on his silhouette in bed, paying attention to subtleties in his tone, the way he moves around her or if he catches himself saying anything he wants to say but can't.

And all she's found in mapping him out is that he's no different from before.

Blake tells her that it could mean any number of things. Weiss maintains that it has to be burgeoning love. Ruby, much to their surprise, tells them that it was probably a moment of weakness and that he probably still doesn't know what it means.

The girls – Pyrrha included – suggest that Ruby is probably right. But Yang finds herself unwilling to accept it. She isn't one for sitting still. So instead of deferring to their wisdom… she hatches a plan.

It falls apart immediately.

-0-

Lingerie is her first idea, a vibrant red with thin enough material to tear off with ease. Scented candles to fill the spaces, lighting the bed and the nightstands while drowning the rest in dark. A nice ambient drone off the speakers in another room just to fill any silence. And makeup, the kind that layers thick and she feels physically on her face but comes recommended from Coco's article on a magazine.

She calls up Pyrrha to coach her on it, but the girl only blinks at her beyond the digital lense and asks, "Do you want him to sleep with you or fall in love?"

At first, Yang is confused until she takes a good hard look at herself in the mirror and… doesn't recognize who's looking back at her.

"I don't know," she says honestly. She smiles placatively and hangs up. Pyrrha knows she'll figure it out, but Yang has to first get rid of the mess she's made in his bedroom. Everything else will follow after.

She tosses the heels in the bin (they were cheap anyway), rips off her stockings, and covers up the rest in a bath robe. She tries to wash off the makeup but it smears and will take longer than she has time for. She tries too frantically to get the candles out and accidentally sets fire to one of his chairs – she ends up violently launching it into the tiled shower wall and leaves the shower running.

Finally was the music wafting in from the living room, playing off her scroll. She's already halfway into the living room when the front door opens. She freezes in place just as Jaune is letting in his guests, Saphron and Terra.

Yang doesn't know Saphron, not really, but there's a mutual trust between them when the older girl runs over to her, takes her by the wrist, and drags her back into Jaune's room.

Minutes later, Saphron is dabbing some solution on her cheeks. The makeup comes off in clumps – some semblance of relief comes with them.

"I'm Yang," she says suddenly.

Saphron's bemused smile banishes any tension she has left. Yang already embarrassed herself and not much could make it worse at this point when your first impression is half naked in the living room. She'd also spied the lingerie but she'd thankfully neglected to mention the familiar strap peeking off her shoulder.

"Saphron," she says but says no more. She focuses on the task at hand and Yang quiets with her. Then Saphron starts humming. It's familiar, as if carved out of a chapter in her life that she can hardly remember. Suddenly it's clear that this woman is a mother.

"My brother mention me a lot?" Saphron asks.

"He tries not to but can't help it. You always manage to come up in his stories to curb his nonsense. You'd be a punchline if the stories were supposed to be funny."

"Tends to happen." Saphron winks. "Us older sisters have to butt in all the time."

"He told you about me and Ruby?" She wasn't expecting to come up in conversation.

"No… I can just tell." Another smile. More secretly knowing. And she is briefly afraid that all her secrets have already been laid bare. "He told me you were his roommate."

"Ah." A safe descriptor. She'd been expecting a cover story like being his live-in girlfriend. She'd even prepared the lines and a backstory. It's a small a comfort that doesn't have to go through that.

Saphron pouts for a moment before her eyes turn devilish. "He also mentioned that you two share a bed and make out." Yang blinks at her. Her confusion also confuses Saphron. Isn't that supposed to be embarrassing? "Is… was he wrong?"

"Uh… no. That's exactly it. I guess I just wasn't expecting the truth."

"And you really aren't sleeping together?" Saphron peels the gown off her shoulder and tugs at the bra strap. Yang yelps when it snaps back into place. "With an outfit like this?"

"It was a lapse in judgement." She gestures to herself. "I swear this isn't how I normally am. I don't think I'll ever put on something like this ever again."

"Hm… a honeymoon might change your mind, but let's not dwell on that. You've got scented candles in the corner and I can smell…" – she sniffs the air – "burnt wood from the bathroom? What led to all this?"

"I'm… not sure I should say."

Saphron takes Yang's hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me, but it feels like you're struggling with something all on your own."

"I'm not, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I just didn't take anyone's advice. I don't like the idea of waiting for something to happen when I can already do something about it."

"There is value in patience."

"I don't think waiting is my problem. I think I'm just too proactive to do nothing."

"My brother leave you hanging or something?"

"Kind of? … I've said too much already."

"Or not enough." She smiles in that way again. As if knowing. "But I won't pry. I know that sometimes it's better to wait and come to your own conclusions. Right or wrong, a decision you make yourself stays with you and sometimes that's more valuable than being handed the keys to the castle."

"You really think highly of Jaune, don't you?"

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I've never heard someone describe the way to someone's heart as 'keys to a castle'."

Saphron gives her a catty cheek. "Oh, so you are in love with him." But she is surprised again when Yang doesn't blush.

She shrugs instead, looking away. Not out of embarrassment but to eye her own fragmentary reflection on the corner of the vanity's mirror. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before."

"But… you're so pretty."

"So is Jaune. So is my sister. And all but one of my roommates have never even kissed anyone before coming to Beacon. It isn't like we don't have time to fall in love, it's just not always our biggest concern. They drill it in you early that staying alive out there should be your priority." She eyes the bra strap on her shoulder in the mirror, hates what it represents, what it almost made her do. She pulls up the sleeve again, hiding it away, and she almost looks like herself. "I think that's why I like being around him. He doesn't pass judgement on whether not my problems are big or small. He just knows they're important to me and lets me be heard."

"Is being a good listener what you look for in a partner?"

"It might." She laughs. "It's hardly an extensive list, though, isn't it?"

Saphron huffs, settling herself comfortably beside her and dusting off her skirt. "Lists are overrated. Not that you shouldn't have standards, but if you want to extensively checklist every potential partner, you'll end up with a growing criteria less and less people will be able to fill. And trust me, I've lived a storied life – been dating people since I was fifteen – and I've found that it's easier to talk to people and let things click. Hell, I wasn't even trying to flirt with Terra when we first met. She was the wingwoman to the girl I was actually trying to get with and we just happened to get along better."

"Sounds like quite the story."

"Why don't I tell you over dinner? It'd be a nice little preamble to me and Terra. I suspect we'll be meeting quite often in the near future."

"I guess I will be tagging along with Jaune if you really want me to."

"If I really want you to? You sound a little meek there," Saphron teases. "Jaune described you as the kind of girl with confidence to rival a peacock. Was my brother wrong or are you just starting to sound like him?"

"Hey, I don't…! Oh shit, you're right."

"Fair tradeoff, I suppose. Jaune's got peacock confidence now and I guess you're to blame."

"Ha! No, I can't take credit for that. Pyrrha – his ex – I'm sure she's your culprit."

"We've met. Jaune brought her over last year before they started dating. Wasn't even going to take her to the dance, the little dunce."

"Oh, but they hooked up that night! After they both showed up stag and he tore up the dance floor in a dress."

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screamed, her eyes lighting up with mischief Yang realizes she's just armed her with.

A knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" Jaune asks, muffled through the mahogany.

"We're fine!" Yang says.

"Peachy, little brother," Saphron adds with a flare of sarcasm, "but you're going to regret keeping secrets from me."

"Yang!" Jaune screeches, panicked. "What did you tell her?"

Yang laughs, hearty and comfortable with Saphron snickering beside her. It almost feels right, like it's something that always should have been, and she wonders why she was ever so afraid. "What you should have told her! You know you can't keep secrets from big sisters!"

"Oh really? I can promise you that there are secrets Ruby hasn't told you."

Yang shot up from her seat. "What!?"

Saphron sits back. "Aren't you two lively…" she whispers.

"I'm no snitch, Xiao Long!" Jaune shouts, snark clear in his voice.

"You'll fess up one way or another!" Yang, in her excitement, marches to the door.

Saphron bolts out of her place and grabs her arm. "You're still underdressed," she says calmly, belying the panic quickened in her chest.

Yang looks down at herself. She's showing a little cleavage too with the loosened bath robe. She takes an extra step back for good measure and clutches the lapels closed.

"C'mon. You're looking a little too comfortable now. Let's find you something modest." Saphron tugs her towards the closet.

"Backing down already?" Jaune said in what – to him – was a moment of silence.

"I'll get you yet, Vomit Boy!" Yang jeers.

Saphron perks up. "Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groans behind the door. "Yang!"

Yang, despite the grin tugging at her cheeks, silently promises to make it up to him later.

-0-

Jaune stands in the center of his living room, staring at his shut door. Saphron has just dragged Yang into it, and his mind has been reeling with what he'd seen. Barely dressed, slow music off her scroll, and with smeared makeup on? He doesn't want to come to any conclusions, not without talking to her first, but the obvious ones come to mind.

He isn't certain he can reckon with the inevitable outcome.

Behind him, Terra sensibly cuts off Yang's music playing off her scroll. Jaune nearly jumps when he's brought out of his stupor and into her beautiful, suffocating presence. Terra is still as captivating as he remembers, tinted with the gloss of a boyhood crush that refuses to die. At least with Saphron around he could suffuse it, but not alone in the heavy quiet of his apartment.

Terra gives him a bemused smile. Ever sympathetic. She pats the seat cushion beside her and Jaune joins her, plopping on the cushion with a held breath he eases out of himself.

"You seem surprised," Terra says. "And here I thought you'd already seen her in less."

"I did say we've only made out… and snuggled." He can't decide which one is more scandalous. Perhaps neither. Or both, given that they aren't even dating.

"Yeah, despite that being unusual enough to be true, I still had my doubts."

"Have any still?"

"No. You definitely don't look like the kind of couple that's seen each other naked."

Jaune's eyes narrow. "We're not a couple."

"I believe you," she says with a smile. She's so dangerously close to him that he can smell her perfume. A glance shows him that she's eying him expectantly. He's tense, uncertain, and it's clear that she can see that. She pulls away, giving him room to breathe. "Guessing you've still got a crush on me then?"

His spine gets stiffer, spotting her at the corner of his eye because he refuses to look directly at her. She's smiling still. Being cheeky. "Terra…" he groans.

She scooches a little closer again (taking a chance that his nerves might not erupt), and lets his heat wash over her and lets him feel hers. The affection is platonic, he knows that. He and his sisters huddle together for comfort often, and Terra has just learned to follow suit. But he can't help but revel in it, letting it sink into his pores till it leaves a familiar tingle.

A small part of him hates it but mostly hates himself for indulging.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" Her tone is quiet, almost a whisper. She's trying to ease him.

"Because you cared about me."

She chuckles because it's naïve and honest and oh so very like him that it's almost nostalgic. "Was that really all?"

"When you're young and naïve, that's all it takes."

"I didn't know you were lonely."

It was his turn to chuckle. "I wasn't. I was never some lonely little kid who didn't have any friends. I had enough love from my sisters alone to fill my heart a hundred times over."

"Then why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Do I need to have been missing something in my life to want to fall in love?"

Her feet shuffles in place. "I guess I haven't seen it that way. After I was old enough to date, I'd not gone a year without someone I wanted to be with or was already with. I always felt like love completed me, like it does now with Saph… Is that not how you feel?"

"I'm… I'm not saying love doesn't make me happy or anything. It's just that I don't feel like I need it to feel whole. I don't think it'd complete me, just that it might be nice to have too. Is that not how you feel?"

She chuckles again, a nervous uncertainty tinting her quiet, teahouse melody. "I don't know. Never been without it, really. At least not for long."

He looks at her – examines her, really – because her cheek is gone, as is her confidence, and it feels like she's revealing her artifice in a vulnerable moment. She's digging gaps into her own thoughts and he can see her pick apart her own internal logic and she seems more and less somehow. Like she's less the perfect cut gem he thought she was and sees the girl underneath it.

He's less tense all of a sudden.

And for a moment he feels like he can come to grips with everything that she is. Who she was to him, who she wasn't, and who she's become. A boyhood crush, flightful fantasy, and… he can't bring himself to think of the last. Fist clenching and unclenching, a slow motion that tries to hide the trembling in his digits.

He swallows and he worries if she can hear it. She doesn't, but she can see something's troubling him.

"How's Adrian?" he asks.

"Oh, he's –"

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screams from beyond the locked bedroom door.

Jaune jolts up from his seat and nearly bumps into Terra who'd stood along with him. She steps aside and he hurries to the door, asking after them. Terra tries not to pay attention (she can barely hear what they say beyond the door anyhow) but then he mentions Yang's sister, Ruby – the girl Terra thought he actually has a crush on – and Yang audibly shouts, "What!?" passed the door at him.

"Aren't you two lively…" Terra whispers.

-0-

Dinner is a largely pleasant affair until the alcohol gets introduced. The hills of drink they stack onto the table to peruse intimidates Jaune and he cautions that he cannot – will not – drink anything that isn't at least on the rocks. He'll shoulder tomorrow's regret but he doesn't want to sleep through the sun burning through the morning and afternoon.

Saphron and Terra share a glance before pulling something out of Terra's bag. Diadem, a vintage Vacuan drink stronger than everything else on the table. They only ask that he a takes a shot. It'll buzz him through the evening.

It's too strong and he nearly hurls.

Yang half remembers all the stories they tell. Saphron regales them with tales of how she met Terra, the proposal, the wedding, and even the honeymoon off the coast of Menagerie. Jaune spouts on about his team and a misadventure with his twin on an old farm and a horse, and Yang, somehow, talks about a food fight twice. It's funnier the second time around.

There's a gap in her memory of whatever story Terra was telling because she fixates on one part and can't focus on anything else. "…she's little Adrian's babysitter," she mentions briefly but doesn't have the faculties to ask about.

When Saph and Terra leave for their hotel, things wind down and Yang's sitting on the sofa in Jaune's hoodie. Yang returns the shirt and shorts she borrowed but she feels like wearing something that's his might help with tonight.

Jaune joins her, easing down slowly as his head rides the waves of a dying Vacuan storm.

"Who's Adrian?" she asks.

He's quiet for a moment, perhaps from the drink. "He's Terra's son."

Yang can see it. Saphron isn't mentioned deliberately. He doesn't just forget this time. "Oh! From a previous marriage?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing like that," he says, sobering up.

"A previous partner then?"

Jaune says nothing. He's sitting upright. Rigid and awake. There's something there. Maybe Terra had a previous partner he didn't like, but then things click into place. Realization sets in like headlights through the fog, suddenly and violently.

"Oh my god…" she whispers, "…he's yours."

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. She grabs onto his arm and pulls him into a hug. She's hit a nail on the head and panic sets in when she thinks she's opened up an old wound. It's precisely the kind of thing they're supposed to help each other forget. Only, Yang doesn't realize that Jaune is so caught off-guard by her sudden burst of affection that he's at first startled and – when she goes in for a kiss and ends up headbutting him instead – he ends up laughing it off.

His mirth is almost strange until it makes complete sense somehow. She's done her job, kept her end of the bargain, and now she's laughing with him too.

When he's calmed down, he lies back on the sofa when she goes to get a drink. She comes back to find him lying across the sofa and she makes the executive decision to just fall on top of him. She crashes into his stomach with a hefty oof from him and she makes no apologies for retaliating.

"Sofa hog," she jeers from her perch on his chest, chin resting on her arms.

"I bought it," he shoots back playfully, eying her down from the arm rest.

"Still pay half the rent. And I never asked you to pay me back when I foot the bill for refurbishing them."

"Wouldn't have needed to if Zwei didn't tear them up."

"It was a joint decision that we took him in for the week. You're as much to blame."

He sighs. "I guess I am."

It isn't actually an issue. They've basically already had this discussion and Yang had insisted on covering for it at the time. They're only stalling. Even Yang isn't quite sure she wants to go on.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to summon the courage to speak again. All she knows is that he's willing to answer, even if it would be easier for both of them to stay ignorant. To let these problems solve themselves and never to bear your heart until it is absolutely necessary.

But she speaks anyway. "I thought it was the wedding that got to you."

And so does he. "No, it… it just happened at the wedding. Saph had to go talk to an old classmate and so she left Terra with me. I was already holding Adrian and with Joan running off somewhere, we were alone. Just me, Terra… and our son. It hit me then. Slowly, like when you stare at yourself in the mirror at the night of a recital. You think, 'This is it. This is where things fall apart… or meet in the middle.' I knew I had to make peace with it before it got worse."

"And your answer was watered-down whiskey the minute you got back home?"

He shrugs. "Qrow gives good advice."

"Hm… maybe. I still think mine is better."

"Oh? And what's that?"

She pushes herself up over him, arms at either side of his head till her silhouette is against the dim glow of the incandescent bulb, warm light pooling through her hair till it looks like it's on fire. "Get drunk on me," she says, her breath tickling his nose and burning his lips.

But he doesn't kiss her. She sees the way his lips quiver, almost wanting to, but he doesn't even try.

She retreats instead, nestling back onto his chest but his cheeks are still burning and she swears hers are too. The room feels like it's boiling.

"When we kiss, do you think of her?"

"Never," he says honestly, and that seems to be the part that stings the most to him. "That's the most dangerous thing about you. You don't taste, feel, or smell like anyone else." He looks at her and only her, and she shrinks away as she gets up and off of him because she feels like a moon in a sea of stars, and as he straightens up and sits parallel to her, his eyes never leave, like a captive witness.

He leans in, and she doesn't know if it's to kiss her or just her sheer pull on him. She ultimately doesn't decide. Their foreheads meet – her eyes are downward but locked to his lips – and she breathes quietly as she asks, "Jaune? Are you in love with me?"

"Yang, are you even sure you are?"

"I… don't know yet."

He pulls away just an inch as something unsettling furrows his brow.

He gets up. "Gimme a minute," he says, and he's gone for just long enough for her to notice that the familiar heat she had pressed against her is missing.

She doesn't know what to expect when he comes back with his hand clutching a small object, but she would have never guessed a ring. It's nestled in a velvety box that he sits on the coffee table and he leaves it open as he sits down and watches it with her like it's some alien thing. He doesn't speak but he gives her a glance and…

It's then that she realizes that she's afraid. The look on her is uncertain – she can feel it, and she feels it freeze on her features.

"Did you pick this out for me?"

He shakes his head. "It was supposed to be Pyrrha's."

She blinks. "Is… is this what scared Pyrrha off?"

"No… it's what scared me off." He leans back against the sofa and she takes that as an invitation to do the same. They're huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Our breakup was only supposed to be temporary. Some tournament rival tried to pin her to a scandal when they found out she slept with me."

"What? Why would that be a problem?"

He snorts. "I was too young." Out loud, it sounds absurd.

"You were seventeen," she reasons.

"And Pyrrha was eighteen. As far as the law is concerned, Pyrrha slept with a minor."

Yang can feel herself coil up like a loaded spring. "Well, that's fucked! You're barely three months apart!"

"Didn't matter to them. Tabloids would have pinned it on her for the rest of her career. The context doesn't matter to the public."

"Okay…" she says slowly, stifling her frustrations for later. "So, what changed then? Why did you set her up with Sun?"

"Because I went to the wedding and found myself thinking about Terra again. It gave me some unhealthy doubts. I loved Pyrrha, I really did, but it felt wrong when I danced with Terra that night, holding our son in our arms… It felt like I'd betrayed Pyrrha somehow, even in my own mind, by feeling those things. It didn't matter that I didn't actually do anything about it."

"That's not how feelings work though," she says. "You're supposed to have doubts sometimes because people aren't perfect or consistent. Life isn't fiction, Jaune."

"I know that now." He shrugs, resigned in a way. "I found out a little too late though."

"How did you even get Pyrrha to agree to this?"

"She's not very honest about her feelings. Doesn't have the courage to be. When she heard that I'd pushed Sun to ask her out because Nora can't keep a secret, she thought that I might have given up on her. By the time we got the chance to be honest about it, she'd already gotten to know Sun enough to start taking him seriously."

Yang glances back at the ring. Not quite as alien as it was earlier. It just seems strange now, like it's out of place. There's a small comfort in that. "So where does the ring come in?"

"I got it as a sort of celebration when would get back together, but then people started asking about what it meant and… it felt like I'd stumbled onto some finality between us. Like I'd somehow found 'the one' over a year of friendship, a few dates, and showing up to the dance in a dress."

Yang smiles. Not because he seemed silly at the time, but because he's smiling. Because, in spite of his somber reflections, he can't help but feel like what he'd done turned out to be a triumph.

Her arm loops into his and his head leans on hers in response. "Doesn't sound like a bad set up to me," Yang says, shrugging against his arm. "If anything, it sounds like the stars aligned for you two." She speaks honestly. Forgets herself and sees him as Pyrrha's too-perfect other half to a too-perfect couple. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, she might have cheered them on for the rest of their lives. But that isn't how it turned out.

"That's what everyone was saying. It's like we'd ripped ourselves out of a fairytale, only I was a dense, blind princess and she was some stoic, stubborn prince. But it put a lot of pressure on us, living up to that story, and it felt like I wasn't as ready as I should have been. I came to Beacon unprepared for a lot of things. Might have hurt the people depending on me by not being ready. I was lucky my shield arm was always sturdy, but my heart wasn't. I naively worried that my inexperience would hurt us irreversibly." He rolls a hand over his knuckles. Contemplatively, regretfully. "I thought I was leaving her in good hands, but even if that's true, should I still have stayed instead? Did I have any right to decide if we should have stayed together or not?"

Her fingers slide off his arm and weave into his. She's huddling closer now, feet off the ground and knees tucked up to her chest. "I think, when we fall in love, we have to decide for ourselves if we want to keep going. We don't choose for the other in that. We choose for ourselves cause we are who we're supposed to look out for. You have to protect yourself first." Yang clutches tighter, and somehow Jaune can tell that her mother is involved. "That's the beautiful thing about a love that works. We decide for ourselves and it all just happens to fall into place with someone else. It doesn't always magically align – sometimes you don't agree with what they want or how they take it – but real love compromises just as much as it just… clicks." Like her and her dad. And Ruby. And maybe – if things turn out alright – her mom.

He wants to believe her. Even if he and Pyrrha didn't pan out, they still love each other as friends and things ultimately haven't changed between them. They were always bound to work out their issues and it's clear now that they've compromised without needing to sacrifice the friendship they'd fostered together.

He wants to thank her, but her eyes are away and she's chewing her lip. Yang is thinking of something else. Her sigh cuts through the silence and she's too shy to look at him.

"Jaune, why did you kiss me?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Last night. In bed. While I was sleeping."

His eyes widen. He's been caught. "Is it really so unusual?"

"It is when you aren't thinking of Terra or Adrian. When you do it just because you wanted to."

"How… how could you tell?"

She can hear the panic in his voice. Caught and cornered, it makes her a little happy to know he's unable to hide it. But it's the speed of which he accepts his fate that gets her grinning, because it's as if a part of him is tired of hiding it. "Because you weren't trying to forget something. You weren't trying to tease me and I certainly can't flirt back when I'm asleep…" She shoots him a knowing look and he gulps through a feeble foundation of defiance. "It was none of that. You did it hoping I wouldn't notice. You did it because you were hiding something you wanted."

He crumbles under her teasing. "Y-Yang, I… I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," she says evenly, defusing his tension and giving him a moment to breathe and look into her eyes. "Don't jump to a conclusion you aren't ready to make." Her tone is slow and deliberate, fingers gliding along the skin of his arm like a soothing, gentle caress. "I get it, Jaune. Like me, you're still trying to figure it out."

He pulls away but fixes her with a stern, serious look. She doesn't realize he's holding her hand till he's squeezing it. He's composed, certain, and so deftly drunk on her that Yang remembers Jaune telling her that drowning in drink gives him clarity. "That's just it, Yang. I know I feel something. I've been feeling a lot of things when I'm with you…" His confidence wanes before he admits that, "It's just that I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to do about it."

Yang blinks twice and tries to speak but can't. And suddenly she can't stop the curl of her cheeks when she feels a growing smile coming.

He's almost afraid. "Yang?"

"Sorry. I'm still… you know you just confessed, right?"

"Ha!" he laughs, heart squeezing his chest. Relief in many ways settling into his skin. "Were you expecting me to say 'I love you'?"

"…"

He chuckles. "Oh my god, Yang."

"Is it weird that I'm a little giddy about that total cliché? Say it again."

He thinks it a little much but the words are easy, flowing freely from his lips. "I love you."

"Agh! You're a serious cheat. Why is it so easy for you to say?'

"Cause I already made peace with it. You stood there in a white dress and I could see you tearing Terra out of that place in my mind and putting yourself there in her stead. I already knew. You've been nothing but a tidal wave to my emotions, just swallowing everything up and leaving little traces of yourself everywhere."

He settles back into the cushions, sinking comfortably into it. "I used to sit on this couch and scream curses at the moon through the window," he says. "Nowadays my eyes are glued to the screen watching a movie with you. I used to be careful about what I threw into the sink because I was afraid I'd have to call in a mechanic to fix the shredder again, and now I don't even give it a second thought."

"And you used to lie in bed thinking about her…" Yang teases.

"Actually, no. I was at peace when I went to bed. Pyrrha trained me to shut down once I got under the sheets. Nowadays it feels like the sandman keeps missing my eyes with the way you move me around in bed."

"I don't think your tongue's been doing much complaining."

"Seems you were willing to use more than just your tongue earlier," he says, teasing her. She shrinks a little, embarrassed. "What were you doing anyway?"

"I was, uh, trying to seduce you."

"Oh… What changed?"

She groans. "I guess my wires got crossed. I thought that if I got you to sleep with me, this" – she gestures between them – "would suddenly clear up. But I'm not that kind of girl. I don't put on lingerie all the time expecting you to see it. Not even sure I'm the kind of girl who wants her clothes ripped off when I get you riled up."

"Yeah, your outfits look expensive. Custom fit and embroidered."

"I wouldn't hit you if you tried, FYI. I'd maybe cry or get upset."

"I'll try not to ravage you through your clothes if that ever happens."

"If? Still don't think we're gonna end up doing the dirty tango after all we've been through? Seems inevitable at this point."

"I think we'll either do it when it makes sense or decide we aren't meant for each other."

"I don't know. I'm pretty snug right where I am." She gives him cheek, brimming with certainty. Confidence. "Still," she says more seriously, "are you really so ready to give up what we have? I don't see it happening, but it looks like you think we're just as likely to stay together as splitting up."

He looks away. Yang is surprised to find him embarrassed, not concerned.

"You don't actually feel that way," Yang says gleefully. "You're as sure as I am."

"I'm not ready to take that risk just yet," he confesses.

She moves to straddle him and loops her arms around his neck. "I can wait."

His hands grip her waist through the thickness of the hoodie. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I told you that love was about deciding for yourself and settling into compromises if our choices don't align. I'm choosing to stay. And – I hope – we agree to compromise."

He takes a moment to look away before locking eyes with her. He leans in and pecks her lips so briefly that she doesn't get the chance to kiss back.

"Wh-what?"

"It's how I'm supposed to say yes, aren't I?"

She laughs and so does he. Yang was expecting to cap off the night with a kiss, pressing bodily into the sheets as their hands roam their bodies, but none of that happens. They clean the dinner the table, take separate baths, and settle into bed together.

She does kiss him on the neck for good measure but he realizes that he can still feel the kiss and it isn't because there's a tingle there. Cracking an eye open, he notices the gloss on her lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"The light kind," she says. "Told myself I'd leave a mark on you during my little lapse earlier. I've decided not to give you a hickey. Consider it an act of mercy."

He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it but can't. He's painfully aware of it and he just knows he's gonna smudge that on something. It'd be funny if it's Yang's face but he'd hate to get it on his sheets. He sits up. "Yeah, nope. I'm washing this off."

"What? C'mon!" She grabs onto him, anchoring him back into bed.

"Nope. Not doing it," he says defiantly.

"Have it your way, Arc. Hickey it is!"

"Wait, Yang! Yang!"

-0-

Jaune is reminded everyday that he showed up to brunch that following morning with a hickey his scarf couldn't hide. Yang makes it up to him by buying dessert.

The get-togethers go on and Yang is less and less embarrassed about openly teasing Jaune and showing her affections publicly. Jaune retaliates, of course, and they even get hot and bothered in the hallway of a movie theater. They spend the rest of the movie in a stall. Terra finds them and is honestly just surprised they haven't taken each other's clothes off… ever.

Jaune and Yang don't tell them that neither of them and ready to go that far yet. Jaune takes the brunt of the blame and says that if he doesn't hold back, they'll end up doing something stupid. Saphron slips Jaune a condom and he regrets everything for the rest of the night.

Two weeks pass with much the same. Sometimes they introduce Saphron and Terra to some of their other friends, and they even manage a weekend together in a cottage near the coast. They're excited about reuniting with Pyrrha and they even meet Sun on her scroll.

Yang finds out that Saphron is every bit a mother as she is a big sister, and Jaune reminds her that she is practically no different herself.

Jaune learns that Qrow and Terra are old classmates and that they had more in common than they thought.

And after Joan is caught scheming with Nora and getting her and Ren back together, after Blake engorges the shrimp platter on a Schnee-sponsored dinner, after Weiss tames a friendly rivalry between Winter and Saphron about who has the cuter sibling, after Ruby gets her cheeks pinched till they go red cause she lost a bet and showed up in an adorable beowulf costume, and after Penny freaks out and her head pops off at dinner (her severed head still tries to chew on a salad)… their two weeks together are up and they're standing at the train station, ready to see them off.

It's been raining for the last few days and everything is damp and cold. Even the air is still thick with the smell of misty rain water and the sky hasn't seen the sun even peek through the cloud cover. It's almost a somber way to say goodbye.

Saphron is introducing Yang to her babysitter and little Adrian over a video call. Jaune stands aside, unwilling to let the last few weeks burn away at the sight of his biological son gurgling through the screen.

Terra nudges into his side. "Can we talk?"

He nods and she pulls them away beside a pillar. Saphron notices and winks at her wife.

"Is there something wrong?" Jaune asks.

"Nothing, actually. I might even say our impromptu vacation here might as well have been perfect."

"Impromptu?"

"I guess it never came up but… we were only supposed to be here for a few days."

"Why did you stick around then? Wouldn't that have been imposing on your babysitter?"

"Oh, Taffy was plenty happy to be at the house with Adrian. She's an orphan and she takes every excuse to come over." She leans in to whisper. "We might even adopt her once I get a raise at the office so look forward to a niece! And, really, is it such a surprise that we enjoy spending time with you and your friends?"

"After the bonfire? I guess not."

"Good. Now that isn't why I needed to talk."

"Oh…" He glances at Yang a few feet away. He can barely hear her and Saphron through the rancor of the station.

"I know you've been holding back."

"Did Yang tell you that?"

"Call it a big sister's intuition."

"You're an only child."

"Not anymore, I'm not. Now I've got six little sisters and a not-so-little brother." She pats his chest then busies her hands with straightening his collar. "A little brother who is too afraid to take a chance and would much rather play it safe than play at all."

"Terra…"

"I know you're afraid that you aren't ready. I wasn't either. Hell, sometimes I worry I'll mess up and ruin a perfectly good marriage. These are all normal things to be afraid of, and for some people, these fears don't go away. We just learn to live with them."

She slides her hands to his arms and down to fingers till she's holding them softly and looking up at him. There's a quiet concern in her sad little smile that he isn't sure how to respond to.

"I think you've driven yourself to be so careful with your feelings that you've forgotten to just take things as they come," she says. "I know you have to be careful with your heart but the thing isn't made of glass. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts easily, the fact that you're still in one piece should be more than enough proof that you aren't as fragile as you think you are. Maybe take a risk. Maybe love will hurt, but so few of us get better at it without giving it a shot first. Like a lot of things, Jaune, it takes a lot of trial and error."

"I've been down this road before already…"

She squeezes his hands. "And you'll go down it again and again. Sometimes people find love once and that's all it takes. But for the rest of us? For most of us? We gotta keep trying."

With a kiss on the cheek and a whispered 'good luck', Saphron and Terra disappear into accelerating train until even it vanishes into the horizon.

Jaune stares into the middle distance and Yang, much like Terra, nudges into his side. "What did you talk about?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Stuff."

"Oh, well that's lame. Should've had more to say to someone you really care about." It's clear she doesn't buy it.

He knows she doesn't. "Yeah, real shame I wasn't more profound and emotional."

She rolls her eyes because she'll let it be and won't pry for his sake. "C'mon, it's getting chilly out here and it might rain again with the wind picking up." She makes to walk off.

"Hey, Yang?"

She stops. "Yeah?"

For a moment he doesn't speak, his eyes are uncertain and elsewhere but then his fists clench as if he's just convinced himself to do something. "Wanna get dinner?" he asks, reaching out to take her by the hand. "We can put on something nice and there's a real fancy place with the best lobster in town."

Yang isn't sure how to take it. She doesn't resist when his thumb brushes over her knuckles, but she summons a bit of bravery herself, stepping closer and resting a fist against her beating chest. "Is… this a date?"

She yelps when he pulls her in. He kisses her, drowns her tongue and melts their bodies together till she's flush against him and tugging at his hair. There's still fear in his eyes when they pull away, but there's a determination in there she's happy to see. "Is that answer enough?"

She giggles through the haze of her burning cheeks. "Plenty."

Then she's on him this time and tilting him backwards with her lips alone until he's just as hazy. Still, he doesn't expect it when she clambers onto his back and slips into a piggyback ride before she starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Hiya, noble steed! To the bike!" she cheers from her perch atop his head.

He's laughing too, even if he's huffing a little from the jog to Bumblebee. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't help it…" she whispers into his hair, excitement mixing into a bubbling cocktail with a giddiness she can't stop. "I'm happy."

[slythergirlimagines]

What’s A Date Without A Little Adventure?- Aang x Reader

Summary: After the war, Aang is desperate to ask you out and he enlists the help of his friends. Things don’t quite go to plan. Fluff and some angst! (GIF is not mine)

  Words: 3,232      Requested: yes!

Masterlist

         What’s A Date Without Some Adventure?

    Aang was completely and utterly in love with you. It was a deeper and truer love than he’d ever experienced before. He knew now that his love for Katara has been a child’s crush, a product of being a young starry eyed kid. Not that Katara wasn’t lovable or that he still wasn’t starry eyed. It was just different now that he was older.

   Aang had met you after the war. He had been somewhat lost after defeating Ozai. His purpose had been fulfilled, and all of his other friends had gone off to find their own purposes. Aang had decided to do the only thing that made sense and traveled, looking for any place he could lend a helping hand.

   Your village was one of the first he had come to. It had been nearly destroyed by the war, and your people were desperately trying to repair it. Aang had a good feeling about helping, something in his spirit told him that this was an important place for him. Appa landed right outside of the village, and Aang had instructed his friend to stay there. Using his glider, he had bended himself right into the center of town, and right to you.

   There was a fire blazing in one of the buildings. The villagers had been desperately trying to keep it contained to the one building, as they tried to fight it. You were front and center, giving orders and commands. Aang had been instantly taken with you, and the fierce determination on your face as you lead your people.

   Aang had been so transfixed by you, that he hadn’t noticed the young girl trapped inside the burning building. In fact, it was your horrified expression that alerted him. Before he had even had time to act, you were rushing in yourself. Aang instantly jumped into action, trying to follow you. By the time he got to the top window, you were already there, tying a cloth around the girl’s nose.

    You had locked eyes with Aang, and recognition seemed to pass over your features. His stomach had fluttered at the idea of you knowing who he was.

    “Ana, go with him. He’s the Avatar, he’ll get you down safely.” You had told the little girl.

   Aang had quickly taken the little girl down to her waiting parents. After making sure she was ok, he turned to come back for you. He had heard the building cracking, signaling that it was about to fall, and there you stood at the window’s ledge. You locked eyes with him, and then you jumped.

   Aang got to you in no time, cradling you in his arms as you both landed.

    “Good catch!” You had told him breathlessly.

  And that had been it for him.

   Aang had cultivated a deep friendship with you as the years went on. He had begged you to accompany him on his travels, and you had accepted. Together, you made a huge difference in the world. Appa, Momo, and the rest of the Gaang all loved you. Even Toph, who didn’t particularly like anybody, thought you were amazing.

   Aang knew he couldn’t deny his feelings for you any longer. He wanted to ask you out, but he knew it had to perfect. You deserved perfect. He just didn’t know where to start. This week you guys were going to the Peace celebration, hosted by Ba Sing Se. All of his friends were going to be there, and he could think of no better time to ask you out. All he needed was a plan.

           ———————————————-

    Aang’s plan was simple. You loved flying, and there were really pretty sunsets over Ba Sing Se. Aang decided he would take you up on Appa at sunset, and confess his feelings to you then.

    When Aang asked you to go flying with him later that day, you enthusiastically agreed, throwing your arms around him and kissing his cheek. Aang blushed for the next few hours as he tried to make sure everything was perfect.

    You showed up looking prettier than anyone ever had the right to. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, and you had been wearing a beautiful emerald green dress with golden arm bands. The color was perfect on you, and Aang could hardly form words or coherent thoughts as you approached.

     “Let’s blow this joint!” You said by way of greeting. Aang watched starstruck as you hopped up on Appa and looked back down at him.

   “Coming?” You asked, eyes sparkling in the evening light.

    Aang nodded dumbly, and then climbed up after you like a puppy.

    The night went well. You cooed over the sunset, and the colors had bathed you in a soft light. Aang opened his mouth to tell you his feelings when you interrupted.

    “Aang, what is that?” You pointed down at something. A beam of light was shooting towards you guys. Aang sat puzzled for a minute, and then it clicked.

    “Firework!” He cried. Appa got the hint, and dodged just before the thing exploded. Appa weaved through the various fireworks and managed to get you all to safety. You both had soot on your faces, and your hair was messed up from the sharp dives Appa took.

   You and Aang just stared at each other for a minute in shock, and then you started laughing.

   “Wow!” You said when you finished. “That was kind of awesome.” You had a beautiful grin on your face, that made Aang smile too.

    “Yeah..” he said. “Awesome.”

    “Next time we do that, let’s not try to get blown up.” You laughed. “But it does kind of remind you of how we first met doesn’t it?”

    You eyes were soft in the starlight, and Aang had felt himself melt. He should have said it, but he just couldn’t. It wasn’t perfect.

          ——————————————-

   Aang went to Sokka next. Sokka was like a brother to him, and anytime Aang had ever needed advice, it was Sokka he sought out.

   Aang burst into Sokka’s room bright and early the next morning, ready to come up with a plan. Sokka was snoring, and drool collected on his pillow.

    “Sokka wake up!” Aang yelled. He didn’t have time to wait patiently for Sokka to wake up. He needed a plan now!

    Sokka jerked awake and screamed.

    “Aang! What are you doing?!” Sokka cried, pulling the sheets over his body to cover himself. Aang rolled his eyes.

    “Sokka I need your help, it’s about y/n!” He said, and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

    “Oh I see.” Sokka said. His face changed from anger to a smug grin. “You’ve come to Ol’ Sokka for some advice on the ladies.” Aang rolled his eyes at the way Sokka pronounced “ladies” as “laydays.”

    “I tried to ask y/n out yesterday, but it didn’t go so well, and I want it to be perfect!” Aang cried.

    “Oh Aang. You’ve come to the right place my friend.” Sokka patted the spot beside him on the bed. Aang sat, shoulders slumped.

    “Aang, let me tell you a little thing about the ladies. They love food!”

      Sokka’s plan was a picnic. It seemed simple enough, and Aang had seen the perfect spot when you had flown in. There was a large tree on a grassy hill that looked inviting and romantic. Aang packed up the food and flew it out on Appa to set up.

    Aang whisked you away on Appa with the excuse of a fun lunch. Everything had gone according to plan. The food had been good, Aang had been coherent enough to keep up a normal conversation. All was well. Again, Aang built up the courage to ask you.

    “Y/n...” and then it started pouring.

     You all were soaked by the time you got back, and you were shivering.

     “Too bad about the rain. That was really fun!” You said. You stood there for a second longer waiting for Aang to say something, but he stomped off, huffing. If he hadn’t been so frustrated he would’ve seen the way you deflated as he left.

     He should’ve known not to take advice from Sokka. What did he know about girls anyways? It’s time he asked Katara.

        ———————————————-

    The next morning, Aang woke up determined to find Katara and get some real advice. He stalked through the hallways, on a mission. He remembered that Katara always practiced her bending in the mornings. You intercepted Aang in the hallway.

     “Morning, Aang. Would you like to-“ you started to ask.

    “Sorry, I can’t!” He said quickly. “I’ve gotta practice bending with Katara!”

     Aang again missed your sad face as he hurried away.

     Katara was practicing her bending like Aang had expected, and he quickly interrupted her.

     “Katara I need your help!” Aang launched into the full story, and caught Katara up to speed on what was going on.

     “So you see, Sokka’s idea didn’t work and now I need your help!”

     “You went to Sokka for advice before me?” Katara asked hurt.

     “Ugh, Katara please!” Aang practically shouted.

     “Alright fine. Hmmm.” Katara said, one hand on her hip. “Oh I know! You should take her on a boat ride! Girls think that’s really romantic!”

      “Katara that’s perfect!” Aang said, throwing his arms around her. “Thanks!” Again, he failed to see you watching them outside the window.

      It was surprisingly easy to find someone with a boat, and Aang had you all out in the middle of the water by mid-afternoon. It was calm, and he was convinced that this time nothing could go wrong.

     He noticed that you looked less excited than usual, and he started to feel insecure.

    “Aang, are you in love with Katara?” You asked him hesitantly.

     “With Katara?? No!” Aang said, laughing hysterically. It came out more panicked than truthful, and you began to read into it.

     “It’s ok if you are.” You whispered softly.

     “No no! Seriously, I don’t love anyone! Psh!” He said.

      “Oh.” You said, face falling. Aang instantly wanted to take back what he said, but then you changed the subject.

     “Aang what are those people doing?” You questioned. You pointed in the direction of a boat not too far away from you. The people on board were waving their hands and shouting.  

      “I think they’re saying hi.” Aang said, and as soon as he did, a giant sea serpent shot out of the water. Aang jumped into action, using his bending to get you away from the monster.

     You all barely managed to make it to shore in one piece.

     “Ugh!” Aang cried. “Let’s just go home.”

    ——————————————————-

     Zuko was the next person Aang sought out for help. Zuko had been in a long term relationship with Mai for some time. He clearly had to know how to ask a girl out.

    Zuko was at Iroh’s tea shop when Aang found him.

    “Zuko! I really need your help.” He said, out of breath from running.

    Zuko listened stoically as Aang explained his troubles.

    “I need you!” Aang begged when he finished. “No one else has been able to help!”

    Zuko sat in thoughtful silence for a long time, and then answered.

    “If you ever tell Mai this, I’ll kill you.” He warned. Aang nodded eagerly so he continued.

    “Once Uncle forced me to go on a date here, and there was a really pretty fountain that lights up at night. My date kissed me there. You may have to light it with your firebending though. The lights didn’t work on their own.” Zuko says thoughtfully.

    “Thank you!” Aang cheered, and rushed off in the direction of the fountain to check it out.

    That night, you were nearly asleep when Aang tapped on your window.

    “Aang?” You ask him.

   His heart was instantly in his throat as he took you in. You were sleepy and rumpled, but so so beautiful. His heart stuttered, and skipped a beat as his brain tried to remember what he was doing there.

   “Y/n! Up for a little late night adventure?” He asked, holding out his hand.

    You looked hesitant, but ultimately you nodded.

   “Let me change really fast.” You said, hurrying back into your room.

    Aang blushed and turned around to give you some privacy. Your tap to his shoulder nearly made him fall off of the window ledge.

   “Ready?” He managed to ask you, swallowing hard. It just wasn’t fair that you were so beautiful.

    “Ready!” You said, smiling widely.

     Your walk through the streets of Ba Sing Se was beautiful. Streetlights casted a hazy, yellow glow over everything, and Aang was really starting to believe that Zuko nailed it.

     When you arrived at the fountain, everything was dark. Zuko had been right about needing to start the lights then.

     “Close your eyes.” Aang said, winking at you.

     You did as he told you, and covered your eyes waiting.

     Aang quickly threw a few balls of fire at the lights, casting the pond in a beautiful glow.

     “Ok open!” Aang said proudly, arms open wide.

     “Oh my!” You said. Aang was confused about the horrified expression on your face. He turned around to see what you were looking at.

    A banner had been hung off of one of the lights and was burning.

    Aang quickly doused the fire with waterbending, and the tatters of the charred banner floated to the ground.

     There was nothing to say as Aang doused the remaining lights and lead you back home.

      —————————————————-

     Toph was the last person Aang considered going to for advice about love, but now she was all he had left. Aang found Toph under a shady tree on the back lawn. Her toes were digging into the ground, and she was lazily tapping a foot.

    “Twinkle toes.” She nodded in his direction.

   “Toph!” He started.

    “Save it. I know just what you need to do.” Toph said. “A girl like y/n enjoys the wild things in life. You need to take her to earthbending fight. She’d love it.”

     Aang thought this over. He didn’t really know what was romantic about bending, but at this point there wasn’t much else he could do to screw it up further.

    “Ok, maybe you’re right! Thanks Toph!” Aang said, rushing off to find you.

     You had woken up with a raging headache. Everything was making your head pound.

     Aang knocked on your door, and you winced as the sound reverberated through your skull.

    “Y/n!” Aang said, excitedly. “Wanna come on a walk with me? I know something fun we could do!”

    “Oh, Aang that’s really sweet but...” you started to tell him about your headache.

    “Please!” He begged, giving you the puppy eyes.

    “Alright.” You smiled. You couldn’t say no to him, even with a headache.

   The bending tournament was packed. Everyone was cheering for their favorites, and the air was rife with excitement. However, you weren’t doing so well.

   Every cheer brought on a new wave of nausea and pain, and everything was too bright. Aang was absorbed in the fight, doing his own cheering.  You wanted to be strong for him, because it was obvious that he was enjoying himself, but you just couldn’t handle it any longer.

   “Aang.” You said quietly next to him. Aang turned his attention to you, and was immediately aware something wasn’t right. You were pale, and your cheeks were flushed. Someone close to you booed loudly, and you flinched. Aang understood then what you had tried to tell him this morning. And he had ignored you like a jerk.

    “Oh y/n, come on let’s go!” Aang said, trying to keep his voice low.

    “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to coming..” you started apologizing.

    “No seriously, don’t worry about it y/n. I’m so sorry, you tried to tell me.” Aang winced.

    “It’s ok. I think I’m just going to sleep it off.” You said.

      Dejectedly, Aang hung his head as you left.

      ——————————————————-

    “You all suck!” Aang yelled the next morning at breakfast. Everyone was here eating but you. Aang figured you were still upstairs sleeping off your headache.

     “I tried every single one of your suggestions, and every single one failed. Every. Single. One.” Aang snapped. He didn’t really mean to project his anger on his friends. He knew that he was the one who messed things up on each date, but still their suggestions hadn’t even been things you would like.

       The group eyed Aang nervously. Katara started shaking her head as if she was trying to tell him something.

    “Aang.” She muttered.

    “I shouldn’t have listened to any of you. All you all did was tell me things that you all wanted to do. I know y/n. She’s funny, kind, and brave. Not to mention beautiful, and I know her better than anyone. All I should’ve done was look her in the eyes and say ‘y/n will you go out with me?’” He finished, pounding his fist into the table for emphasis.

     “Aang?” You said from behind him.

    Aang froze, looking at all of his friends’ faces.

    “We’re just going to go.” Sokka said, grabbing Toph by the elbow and leading her out. Katara and Zuko followed close behind them, and then you two were alone in the kitchen.

    “Aang, did you really mean it?” You asked.

    Aang turned to face you, blush and all. It was time for him to just admit it. Even if you didn’t feel the same, it was time to get it off of his chest.

   “Y/n, I’m sorry.” He said. “This whole week I’ve been trying to ask you to go out with me, but I wanted it to be perfect and I messed it up each time.” He sighed, slumping his shoulders.

     “Aang, why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him.

     “I just wanted it to be perfect.” He said sadly.

    “Aang, you didn’t have to go to any big effort to ask me out. I love you.” You chuckled.

    Aang whipped his head up faster than you thought possible.

    “You love me?” He asked, completely astounded.

    “Of course I do!” You laughed. “And for the record, every single one of those dates was perfect.”

    “But we almost died, and fought a sea monster, and I caught something on fire!” He exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

    “Yes, but you were there and we were together. That’s all I need. And what’s a date without a little adventure?” You said, eyes sparkling.

    Aang didn’t wait a second longer, pulling you into a happy kiss. He was so thrilled that he subconsciously started floating the two of you into the air.

    It felt right, kissing you. Like every dream he’d ever had came true. Aang was so happy he could sing. And you loved him.

    “Y/n!” He said, breaking the kiss. “I love you too! What I said on the boat, I was just trying to say I didn’t love Katara. Obviously I love you-”

    You laughed at his antics, and simply shut him up with another sweet kiss. Aang was truly the happiest man alive. Then a terrifying thought hit. When the time came, how would he ask you to marry him?!

A/n: I’m slowly making my way through these requests. I’m really happy with what I’ve gotten done so far. Make sure to check out my masterlist to read my other work! Requests are open! I think I tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged in my ATLA stuff, but if I missed you please let me know and I’ll correct it.

Taglist: @galacticamidala​ @a-random-queer-kid​ @taeeemin​ @realimbo​ @samsmultifandomblogs​

@fire1ordzuzu​ @shortmexicangirl​ @wingeddemonclub​ @mangoberry34​ @marvel-ing-at-it-all​

[guccidishtowel]

The Viscount’s Secret

NSFW UNDER CUT (Warnings under cut)

Fandom: Dragon Age

Words:  3859

Pairings: Varric/Reader

AO3: The Viscount’s Secret

Warnings: Thigh-Riding, Blowjobs, Light Dom/sub elements, Light Degredation (use of ‘whore’)

Walking into the Viscount’s Keep that afternoon, the tension had been palpable. Guards gave their usual greetings, nodding their heads and a few of the more friendly lot offering smiles, but their eyes carried that familiar glint that was just as telling as the muffled voices coming from the office.

The merchant bit back a quiet grin as the reason for their sudden summons became infinitely more clear.

The Viscount was having a bad day.

Halfway up the stairs they heard the telltale sound of something heavy thump against hardwood. Seneschal Bran had no doubt avoided a heavy tome to the head by mere millimeters yet again. They’d mounted the last step when he came stumbling out of the office, chased by a few quills and--if they saw correctly--a paperweight. The poor Seneschal met their eyes just as he closed the heavy doors and practically threw himself upon their mercy.

“He’s impossible!” Bran cried. Upon closer inspection they could see where a blotch of ink stained his forehead. Apparently Bran’s evasive maneuvers had been lacking. “I don’t know how you manage to do it, but please calm him down. We have a stack of correspondence growing larger by the moment and this is certainly not helping!”

They gave him a sympathetic smile, complete with a pat on his shoulder and a subtle gesture to his forehead and sent him on his way--hopefully to clean the ink off. No one else populated the upper floor; apparently no one wanted to encounter the Viscount’s wrath. ‘All the better for me,’ they thought, a wicked smile darting across their face.

They approached the heavy wooden door to the office and lingered outside for just a moment. Even through the thick wood they could hear the telltale sounds of frustrated pacing and smiled to themselves. Perhaps it was self-serving, but when the Viscount was this worked up it always ended up far more in their favor. The familiar thrill of anticipation slipped up their spine like a lover's caress, lighting every nerve on fire. Being such an open secret was interesting. Officially they were just a merchant of some means and one of the Viscount’s personal favorites, often requested to help with balancing numbers or bringing in specialized shipments. Unofficially…

They bit their lip in anticipation, soft lips quirking upwards as they knocked once on the heavy doors.

“The next person who walks through those blighted doors is meeting the business end of Bianca!”

His rough voice sent tingles up their spine, and the quiet fury beneath the words only added to the flame. His threats weren’t always unfounded, but even as agitated as he was he wouldn’t turn his trusty crossbow on one of his own. Still, when they cracked open the heavy door they made sure to let their voice reach him before presenting any potential targets.

“Even when it’s me?” Finally poking their head inside, they were greeted by the sight of Varric’s office in even more disarray than usual. A few of the heavy plush chairs had been overturned. The desk was littered with half-open correspondence, the stains of splashed wax and ink evident on more than one. Even the curtains had suffered a few minor wounds; apparently Bran had led Varric on a merry little chase around the office before making it out to safety.

And then there was the Viscount himself. Standing by the roaring fire with his shirt half open and a glass of what was surely poignant draught in his hand, he painted quite the image. Varric Tethras was a handsome man, of that there was no doubt. From the charming gleam in his eyes to the aged lines on his face, everything seemed to blend together into a visage so breathtaking most men and women would give their right arm for just a night with him. That’s how this merchant felt, at least. But now, with the dark cloud of anger shading his handsome features, he looked...somehow more enticing. A familiar heat began to rise in the pit of their stomach and as Varric threw back the glass to finish off the alcohol they licked their own lips, suddenly quite parched.

“Sorry for the mess, Mischief,” he began, and they didn’t bother to hide their smirk at the familiar nickname. “Today’s just...been a day.”

“I could tell. I think you’ve scarred poor Bran for life. Or at least the rest of the day if he can’t get that ink off his forehead.”

Despite his obvious frustration Varric chuckled, the soft grin breaking apart the dark clouds on his face. He stepped away from the fire and set his glass down to instead rummage around in the drawers of his desk. Soon enough he found another glass, filled both, and turned to pass one off to them with a familiar gleam in his eyes.

“Come on. You know I hate drinking alone. Besides,” he paused, letting his gaze roam over their form. They always felt a pleasant little shiver when under his scrutiny, and they didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened before he brought his own glass up, but he didn’t drink. Not yet. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”

The promise in his eyes made their knees weak and the burn of good Ferelden brandy only stoked the fire growing on their stomach. Still they drank it down, hoping to stave off some of the thirst long enough to at least try and find the root of their Viscount’s frustration.

“To what do I owe the pleasure this time?” They finally asked, setting their half-emptied glass aside. “I haven’t seen you this worked up in a while.” It almost felt a shame to bring up business, especially when it made that delicious look fall from his face, replaced instead with an aching weariness out of place on a man so lively.

“It’s the Maker damn day that won’t end. I’ve got nobles squabling like toddlers--which isn’t anything fucking new--along with a whole heap of new laws to look over. Then there’s tying up the loose ends from the Inquisition which is a headache in and of itself. Shipments to look over, palms to grease, and enough signatures to pen that I can already feel my damn hand falling off.” He punctuated his tirade by dropping heavily into the chair behind his desk, glass still clutched in one hand and the other coming up to thumb at the space between his brows.

They pursed their lips, sympathetic expression at odds with the hunger from earlier. Perching themselves on the edge of his desk they brought a hand up to his head, their fingertips massaging into his scalp. As they predicted he leaned into their hand, his sigh rumbling through his chest. It wasn’t the first time a long day had left him more than a little frustrated, and it certainly wasn’t the first time they’d been called up to help him deal with the stress. There was no doubt how the night would end, but sometimes the moments before were just as important. Watching Varric’s shoulders lose their tension as he melted under their fingertips, they knew this was one of those times.

“Definitely sounds like a shitty day,” they agreed, smiling softly at his snort. His eyes had long since closed as he relaxed into their ministrations. There was something empowering about this, about having the Viscount of Kirkwall turn to putty in their fingers. Emboldened by the thought they slid off his desk and instead found themselves comfortably nestled on his lap, prompting him to finally peel his eyes open to observe them. Grinning down at him, they trailed the hand in his hair down, brushing over his temple until they found his jaw. “But I bet I can help you forget all about it.”

Varric’s lips curled and he turned his head, catching the tips of their fingers between his teeth. The subtle sting prompted them to chuckle as Varric moved to settle his broad hands on their hips. “You know I love to gamble, darlin’, but I don’t make stupid bets. We both know you’re going to turn my mood around.” The certainty in his tone was a stroke to their ego. It was hard to think this had all started from a single trip he’d made to the merchants quarters in Lowtown all those months ago.

“I’m at my lord’s service,” they purred, grinning when his expression morphed to one of minor irritation. His hands tightened on their hips in warning and they chuckled, bending forward to brush their lips over his ear. “Oh, let me have my fun.”

“By all means,” Varric replied, his voice husky. “But know it’s gonna cost ya.”

They smiled against his skin. “Mm, promises, promises…”

Promises that would be paid in full, it would seem. Varric finally moved, his mouth finding the skin of their throat and painting it with bruises. They tilted their head to allow him access, helping themselves to the expanse of skin his shirt exposed. The damn dwarf never covered his chest and it was honestly unfair just how distracting it was. Their fingers smoothed under the halves of his tunic, carding through the hair and feeling the muscle beneath their palms. Varric chuckled against their throat, his tongue and lips soothing another love bite.

“No one can resist,” he teased, earning a pinch when their fingers found his nipple. He grunted, the sound tapering into a low growl at the back of his throat. “Brat.”

“Only for you, your grace,” they replied. He glowered up at them, earning himself another wry smirk. “Going to bend me over your knee?”

There was a sudden gleam in Varric’s eyes that made them wonder if, perhaps, they’d made an error in judgement. They knew that look well. Just the sight of it had them tensing, a shot of arousal rushing through them. Varric tilted his head back, leaving their neck for now and instead settling his hands a little lower, spreading their thighs on either side of his own. Realization struck just as he dragged his hands back to their hips, rocking them forward gently. The friction drew a soft, shaky breath out of them that had Varric smirking.

“Well, we can certainly use my knee, but I think I’ve got better ideas than what you had in mind.”

His hands tugged, bringing them forward again, until he settled into a slow and steady rhythm. It was too slow and too light, but they had a feeling it was by design. They brought their hands to his shoulders, marveling quietly at the strength as he guided their motions. The slow build of pleasure promised to be worth it, but they weren’t a patient sort.

“I thought this was about you,” they huffed, their cheeks already blossoming with heat. “I don’t see how this is giving you what you want.”

“You’re right,” Varric shot back. “ This is about me and what I want. And what I want is to see you coming apart on my knee like a good little whore.”

The acidic words brought a small whimper out, the surprise on their face turning to pleasure when he roughly jerked them forward, picking up his pace. Varric chuckled as their fingers dug into his shoulders. “You like that, sweetheart? Like being the Viscount’s whore?”

They groaned aloud, dropping their head against his shoulder, hips rolling again as they ground against his thigh. “Now we’re using titles? I think you’re just being petty--fuck, Varric!” In the middle of their complaints the grinning dwarf had brought one hand up and then down just as swiftly, slapping against their ass with enough force to have them jolt.

“Hey now, you were the one that wanted to be bent over my knee, weren’t you?” he teased. “I think this is much better. Especially when I can see all those cute little faces you make. And speaking of that…”

With their face buried against him they couldn’t see what he had planned, but when strong fingers threaded into their hair it became abundantly clear. He tugged, pulling their head away from his shoulder and forcing them to arch back, throat exposed for his waiting teeth. He bit down roughly and they cried out, the sound ending on a gasp as he sucked at the abused skin. Satisfied, he broke away to look up into their face.

“Don’t hide from me. I wanna see all those little looks. I wanna see how good I make you feel, Mischief.” His hooded eyes sought their own, dark and wanting. They shuddered under the look, their hips moving of their own accord now, chasing their release desperately. Varric noticed and hummed, his fingers threading gently in their hair now. “That’s it. Take what you need from me, sweetheart.”

They didn’t last much longer after that. Rutting against his thigh like an animal and clinging to him, they broke apart just how Varric wanted, muffling their cry of pleasure by sinking their own teeth into his neck. Varric groaned at the sensation and would no doubt sport the bite proudly for the next few days. He took a ridiculous amount of pleasure from seeing all the nobles blush and look away, tittering and hiding their comments behind hands and ornamental fans.

It took a few moments for them to calm, the rush of pleasure leaving them momentarily light-headed. Varric carded his rough fingers through their hair gently, his voice soft and soothing in their ear.

“There’s my Mischief,” he murmured, the tone of his voice making them blush anew. “Good. Always so good for me.” It carried on that way for a few minutes until finally they straightened, standing from his lap only to drop to their knees. Varric blinked in surprise and they relished the thought; it took a lot to shock the blighted dwarf, after all.

“You know I’m not selfish, Varric,” they purred, all traces of the gasping and blushing from earlier gone. “Besides, I have to perform my civic duty, don’t I?” They were here on a mission, after all, and as nice as it was letting Varric have his way, they knew the best way to ease his stress was with a more hands on approach.

He’d appreciate the pun, they were sure.

Surprise turned to amusement and Varric answered by spreading his thighs invitingly. They settled between and smirked at the sight of the bulge straining against his breeches. A few deft tugs of the laces and he fell free, heavy and throbbing in their hand. Varric hissed above them, the light touch already wreaking havoc on his self-control. Humming in delight, they lifted their eyes to his, fingers closing as they began to slowly stroke his shaft.

“Don’t you have some correspondence to attend to?” they asked, a little too sweetly. “I promised Bran I would help you see reason, after all.”

Varric groaned, in pleasure or at the thought of more work they couldn’t tell, and dropped his head back. “The damn nobility can wait,” he insisted. “It’s a waste of time anyway.”

They clicked their tongue disapprovingly. That wouldn’t do.

Varric all but jerked when their hand left him suddenly cold and aching. Eyes wide with disbelief, he looked down at them. Oh, they’d treasure that sight for a long time to come. “Sweetheart, you can’t be serious--”

“I don’t hear a quill moving up there,” they cut him off, lips curling wickedly. “Better get to work, Master Tethras.”

For a long moment he stared at them, disbelieving. They saw the moment he began to appraise them, likely considering if it would be worth waiting out their stubborn streak. He could, and perhaps they would, break, but when the mood took hold they could be quite firm. He seemed to be weighing the odds. And they could see the moment he gave up, sighing heavily as he scooted his chair closer to his desk, casting his shadow over them.

They heard him pick up his quill, begin to write, and leaf through the documents above.

And they heard the moment he sucked in a breath as they took his cock in their hand once more, warm breath ghosting over the tip as they brought it to their lips. His hand stilled for a moment, and so did they. Then he cursed and began to write again, and they finally closed their mouth over him, jaw already burning at the stretch.

What Varric lacked in length was more than made up for in girth, and already they could feel their jaw settle into that familiar ache as they began to slowly work their way down him. The discomfort was worth every moment they could feel him twitch in their mouth, hear every curse and sucked in breath above them. Settling their hands against his calves they began to work in earnest, their head rocking back and forth. The familiar feeling of his hand in their hair had them pause just long enough to make sure they still heard the scratch of quill on parchment before resuming.

Above them, Varric cursed, his shaky signature being scrawled across shipment orders and premade letters alike. “Andraste’s fuckin’ ass, you’re an absolute menace. I’m--fuck, you feel so good.”

The praise only fueled their movements. Just when they thought Varric was beginning to catch his breath they paused, dragged their mouth all the way back to the head of his cock, and hollowed their cheeks to suck against the skin. Varric bucked, his knees slamming into the underside of the desk. It was only by a miracle that he didn’t snap the quill in his hand.

“Shit!” His frustrated grunt had them smiling against him and his hand tightened in their hair. Their scalp tingled from the force. Satisfied, they set to work again, eyes closing as they felt him begin to guide them. His hand tugged them back and forth, the pace increasing as he slowly began to fall apart. They could feel the way he throbbed in their mouth and paused just long enough to trace a vein on the underside of his cock.

“Maker,” he breathed above them, his hips bucking into their throat. By now his hand was faster and jerking them along his length in a way that made their eyes water. “Sweetheart, you feel like you were made for this. I’ve never felt anything--fuck--anything better in my damn life.”

They would answer if they could, but by now the grip on his shins was just as much to steady themself as much as him. He jerked them forward once more and they gagged around him, eyes nearly rolling into the back of their head. The noise set Varric groaning, and his cock throbbed once more in their mouth. They heard his brief warning then, right before he emptied into their throat, his grip on their hair holding them tight against him. Even as they coughed when he turned his grip loose they felt more than satisfied, with the taste of him lingering on their tongue.

Varric pushed his chair back the moment he caught his breath, quickly looking down to meet their gaze. They heard his hands shuffling on the desk before he finally produced what looked to be an embroidered handkerchief. Likely a gift from some Hightown aristocrat. They wondered how they would feel knowing just what it was being used for.

“You all right, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice softer than before. He reached to gently wipe their mouth. “Not too rough?”

They shook their head, still hazy from the pleasure. They thought their smile was answer enough, but Varric always insisted they use words. “Mm, perfect.”

Chuckling, Varric finished wiping their face. He then tugged them back to their feet to carefully guide them back into his lap. It was always this way. After they’d finished their business Varric would always insist on keeping them close by for a little while. They found it endearing, really; not many of their past partners had any sense of aftercare. When they’d told Varric, he’d scoffed.

‘Probably didn’t know how to actually satisfy a partner either, did they?’

They hadn’t disagreed.

“I think Bran owes me this time,” they finally said after a few moments of companionable silence. “I actually got you to do some work this time. Normally I’m distracting you.”

Varric laughed, the sound warm and vibrating through his bulky chest against them. They settled further into his lap.

“Just don’t tell him how you did it. I think he might die of embarrassment. But then again, without him around…” His conspiratorial look was met with a swat against his bared chest.

“Behave. You put the poor bastard through enough as it is,” they insisted. “If anything, I think he needs the vacation from you.”

Varric grinned and didn’t even have the audacity to look offended. With one arm still wrapped around them, he reached the free hand to straighten the letters he’d managed to sign into a neat pile, sighing at the sight of the rest. He’d made a dent, at least, but there was still a mountain to go. That, and the thought of them leaving threatened to kill what little optimism he had remaining. Of course that’s when a brilliant idea struck.

“Y’know, Mischief, I was thinking…”

“Dangerous thing, really.”

Varric smirked and shook his head fondly. “Always so rude to me, sweetness. Anyway, I was thinking. Instead of trotting out of here all rumpled like usual, how about...well. How about you stay the night? Make use of the bed this time instead of just my desk.”

They snorted. “You’re the one who always suggests the desk, Varric. I’m surprised my ass doesn’t have splinters at this point.”

“I mean, I could always check if you’re worried--”

“Don’t you have papers to sign?” they cut him off, their mockingly stern expression melting to laughter when he all but pouted at them. It wasn’t a bad idea, really. The thought had crossed their mind more than once. A night in Varric’s bed, of course, would likely have little to do with sleeping, but the idea was still...intimate. They’d always assumed the situation between them to be born of mutual attraction and necessity, but were they really opposed to something more?

Not in the least. But that didn’t mean they had to make it easy for him.

“Mmm, how about you make it through, say, half of this mountain on your desk,” they finally said, ignoring his sputtered indignation. “Do that, and I’m all yours for the whole night, serah.”

Varric paused, his eyes darting from the foreboding pile of correspondence back to the grinning mischief maker in his lap. It wasn’t even a contest, really. Varric had always been a weak man for a nice smile, and when they shot him one that promised nothing but trouble, he could never say no.

So instead he sighed, pressed a kiss to their forehead, and settled them properly in his lap as he picked up his quill.

“Only for you, Mischief. Only for you.”

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Three

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader

Warnings: Uhh . . . sexual tension? Idk how to describe it. I guess this is the most PG-13 bit of it but there’s nothing too crazy

{Pt. 1}  {Pt. 2}  {Pt. 3}  {Pt. 4}  {Pt. 5}  {Pt. 6}  {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

You made your way down the familiar rolling hill that led to the ocean, inhaling the briny air. The winds whipped your hair around your face haphazardly, tossing it as they pleased. You scrunched up your nose and tried to spit the stray strands out of your mouth, which proved to be a struggle.

Trying to tame your now spit covered (H/C) hair, you allowed your feet to sink into the black sand. You reveled in the feel of it squishing and shifting between your toes.

Waves noisily crashed over the black rocks, rougher today than they were normally. The wind was stronger than usual, and you expected a storm was on its way, judging by the gray look taking over the sky. You frowned at the wind, wishing it could be a nicer day when something caught your eye.

Pale skin contrasted the black sand it was lying on, dark water crashing around a pair of shoulders.

You knew how dangerous the waters could be, especially on a day like today. It was forbidden to step foot in the ocean; your father never let you or anyone else forget it. But there was clearly something wrong, so you risked coming closer for a better look.

A man roughly your age was lying on his back, partially submerged in the water that curled and fell over him. You realized, to your further shock and horror, that this man was completely naked.

His eyes were shut and you couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. An odd necklace laid against his bare chest, somehow miraculously staying on after the apparent chaos he had been through. What was he doing out here? Was he some castaway washed up on shore? Was he some idiot who had decided to go skinny dipping at a bad time?

You decided none of it mattered as you knelt next to him, finally giving up on trying to keep your skirts out of the water.

You put a finger under his nose, checking for breath. To your relief, a warm cloud collected between you. So he was alive, if only faintly. You tried shaking his shoulder, wondering if you could wake him up. His skin was cold, so cold, just touching it made you shiver.

No matter how hard you shook him, he wouldn't stir, making you worry. Finally you dragged him further out of the water, taking off your jacket and draping it over him, hoping to provide some warmth.

"I'll be right back," you whispered, standing up again in order to race home to find help.

✤✤✤✤✤

Tamaki blinked his eyes open, light bleeding into the crack of his vision. It was too bright, and his head hurt. His whole body throbbed and tingled and something about him felt . . . different.

He was laying on something very soft and wrapped in layers of coverings, which trapped in his heat nicely. Where was he?

His memory suddenly flooded back to him, the necklace, the waves . . . his legs.

Tamaki's eyes snapped the rest of the way open, cringing at the onslaught of light. He was in some kind of room, bathed in afternoon sunlight. It was relatively simple, only holding a bookcase, a wardrobe, and a small vanity table. He had never before seen so many warm shades, marveling at how much yellow could be picked up by his eyes.

He lifted the blanket off of him, cold air rolling over his brand new legs. He was wearing another type of covering over the lower half of his body, these loose-fitting and a light blue color. They obstructed the view of his legs, only showing him his bare feet. Tamaki bunched some of the fabric in his hand, twisting it slightly in curiosity. He then experimentally bent his knee, straightening and bending it again until finally taking his foot into his hand. Tamaki brushed his fingertips over his toes, spreading and curling them. He finally allowed a small smile onto his face. He'd done it. He had legs.

Tamaki suddenly noticed something about his thoughts. They had changed slightly. It was still him thinking them, yet they felt almost foreign. He was thinking in . . . words. That's what they were called. He was used to forming sounds in his mind, but generally he used pictures to think. Now they flowed silently in individual sounds, each one with its own meaning. A new one would appear every now and then, and Tamaki would just sort of know what it meant.

Before he could start unpacking his new mental system, a noise drifted into his ears. It reminded Tamaki of singing, but this was distinctly less musical. Could these be words except . . . spoken? The knob on the door shook, the sound coming from the other side. The door swung open, causing Tamaki's breath to catch in his throat.

You walked in, followed by a woman who appeared to be a few years your senior. You wore a light-colored sundress and a glittering circlet was delicately placed atop your head. Tamaki noticed how your (H/L) (H/C) hair gently bobbed and flowed as you walked. He'd known you were pretty, but he'd never seen you this close before, and he made a point to memorize every feature of your face which until now, he'd only caught glimpses of from afar.

The woman behind you was speaking, her hands wringing her skirt. "—princess, please. This isn't—"

"Oh! You're awake!" You met Tamaki's eyes, your face melting into a heart-stopping smile.

Princess? What's a princess? Tamaki wondered.

Your face suddenly went serious, almost frowning at him. Tamaki fought the urge to shrink back from your gaze, unsure of what he'd done to evoke such an expression. "Brianne, could you give us a moment?" you requested of the woman behind you, your eyes never leaving Tamaki's. "Since my father is away for the week, it is my duty to deal with him."

Brianne sighed, releasing her dress. "Very well, then." She stepped out of the room, closing the door after her.

You crossed the room, bringing yourself a few paces away from Tamaki's bed. You folded your arms in front of your chest, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Do you realize—" you spoke, your voice smooth and even, curiously filling Tamaki's ears in a way he was unaccustomed to, "—that swimming on that beach is forbidden?"

Tamaki frowned, taken aback. The beach?

You must have seen the look of confusion written across his face, because you relaxed slightly. "Sir, are you from this island?"

Tamaki shook his head, answering truthfully.

You uncrossed your arms, resting a hand on your hip. The gentle smile returned to your face, making Tamaki marginally less tense. "So you are a castaway. Your ship must have gotten stuck in another storm." You glanced out the window that was leaking sunlight into the room. "You were out nearly all day. You missed the storm we had over here. But the sun's out now."

Tamaki couldn't take his eyes off you. He wanted to ask you so many things, to tell you how much he admired you, but nothing would take hold in his mind.

You finally looked back to Tamaki, your eyebrows creasing in concern. "You don't talk much. You aren't going into shock, are you?"

You closed the distance between him and yourself, resting a warm hand on his forehead. He stiffened at your touch, explosions of feeling firing off in his chest.

"I did find you half-drowned and naked on my beach. I'm glad you don't feel so cold anymore."

Tamaki frowned at your words, focusing on one which was foreign to him. He decided to experiment with his voice, his throat bobbing as he swallowed nervously.

"N-naked?" he asked, the word finally sliding over his tongue. It felt odd, using his voice like this to communicate, but sound was able to travel differently through air than it did in the water.

You blushed, averting your eyes to the floor. "The wreck must have torn off your clothes or something. We-we gave you some pants." You bit your lip, embarrassed by the subject matter.

Tamaki fiddled with his pants again, the new word bouncing around his brain as he twisted the cloth between his fingers. Now that he thought about it, humans did have a strange obsession with hiding their bodies from each other. The merpeople didn't really practice the custom, although Tamaki knew some of the mermaids liked to wear decorative pieces tied around their chests; anything from shells to seaweed. He'd even seen someone sporting a discarded man-made flag.

"You s-saved me." Tamaki finally said, turning back to you. "I thought I was going to die." His words were coming easier now, formed in his head and then shaped by his tongue. "Thank you."

You smiled. "I didn't really do anything. I just found you." You extended a hand. "I am Princess (F/N) (L/N) of the Islands of Thapia, it's a pleasure to meet you."

There it was again; princess. Tamaki decided not to ask, in case he ended up looking like an idiot. It couldn't be anything too important, although the way you said it almost made him wonder . . . .

"I'm Tamaki Amajiki." I've been watching you for the past two months, and I might be in love.

"Where are you from?"

Tamaki sighed, uncertain of how to answer. "Far away from here."

He vowed to himself to tell you, but now wasn't the time.

Your gaze slipped down to his chest, admiring the necklace that hung from his neck. "I like your necklace. Where did you get it? Is it a family heirloom?"

Tamaki brought his fingers up to it, subconsciously fiddling with the shell. "I'm borrowing from this lady."

"A lady?" Your eyebrow shot up again. "Got someone back home?"

Tamaki jolted at your words, his hand flying from the necklace. "No! It's just me."

"Just you?"

The raven-haired man swallowed and nodded.

"Well," you said, straightening, "since you weren't breaking the safety laws and you clearly aren't from around here, I am making it my personal responsibility to care and provide for you until you are ready to return to your home.

Tamaki blinked. "You'd do that?"

You shrugged. "Where else are you going to stay? Besides, I get lonely here and you seem like a nice person."

You thought he was nice? He might cry at the thought.

"Would you like anything?" you continued. "A meal? More blankets?"

Tamaki bit his lip, suddenly noticing how his stomach clenched around nothing at your words. How had he not noticed how hungry he was? "Some food would be nice. Please."

You smiled and nodded. "I figured as much. I'll get Brianne right on that."

You ducked out of the room and Tamaki waited patiently in his bed, tapping his fingers together when something caught his attention. A dark form had moved from behind the glass of the window. Tamaki had never seen anything like it, wondering how he hadn't noticed the clear panes before. He stared outside, watching as leaves on a tree shook with an invisible breeze, another form darting through the air into his vision again. He now recognized the creature as a bird, however, he was used to the larger, white sea birds that he would always find when he came up to the surface. This one was so dark and compact, and Tamaki found himself finding it cute.

He watched it intently as it fluttered about, poking around in the grass for a stray worm. Its activities intrigued him so much he barely noticed the time passing, jumping when he heard his door swing open.

You strode in, carrying a tray laden with food. "Hi, again. I'm back." You set the tray on Tamaki's lap and grabbed a chair from the other end of the room, pulling it up beside the bed so you could converse.

"Th-thank you," Tamaki said, looking down at the bowl that was before him.

"You're welcome!" you beamed. "You just missed lunch, so we still had some stew left over. Our chef is really nice and he warmed some up for you! I'll have to take you to meet him later." You gasped at a new thought. "I should take you on a tour! I'm sure you'll like it here. I don't get visitors much, it's usually just the same islanders. Aren't you hungry?"

You had noticed Tamaki hadn't touched his food yet.

"Sorry! I was just, um, distracted . . . ." It was the truth, watching you talk was like some kind of dream to him. The way your mouth moved intrigued him, holding your smile through your words. There was something so indescribably enrapturing to him as he watched you. He felt like he could listen to you all day.

Listening to you . . . . That was right. Your voice. Tamaki had to figure out how to ask you to sing for him so he could finally hear it up close, untarnished by distance and wind.

Now wasn't the time, though. Tamaki's stomach painfully reminded him. The only problem was . . . what was he supposed to do? At home, he was used to being able to eat everything with his hands. But this was obviously a liquid, and something told him just shoving his fingers in wasn't the answer.

He swept his gaze over the tray, his eyes landing on a little slice of another foreign item to him. It had a tan crust, with a light, almost fluffy center. He picked it up, throwing multiple glances over to you in case you made a face to signal he was doing something wrong. Tamaki held it to his nose and sniffed. It smelled . . . good. Really good. He dunked it in the stew and brought it back out, lifting it up to his mouth and licking off some of the broth.

Flavors unlike anything he'd ever experienced before exploded in his mouth, and he found himself biting off some of the disc he'd dipped in it. This was another flavor, a little plain with the faintest hints of sweet. Tamaki happily chewed, already trying to figure out how to consume it all as fast as he could.

"You like the bread?" you asked, noticing his overjoyed expression. "I baked it this morning, with some help from Brianne. Brianne's my handmaiden, by the way. You've seen her, right? She was with me when I walked in the first time."

Tamaki looked over and nodded, thinking back to the older, somewhat heavy-set blonde woman from before.

You went on, beginning to explain your nearly perfected technique for baking bread. Tamaki tried to follow what you were saying, but it was difficult when he didn't even know half the terms you were using. Oven? Yeast? Dough? Tamaki could never have imagined how vastly different his world was from yours.

All too soon, he finished his 'bread', or at least, he was pretty sure it was bread. He frowned a little, disappointed, until his eyes alighted on another object on the tray. He picked it up, instantly feeling that it was metal. He used it to scoop up some of the chunks of meat and vegetables, finding them even better than the thick broth he'd been eating before.

He finished the last of what was in his bowl, a new sense of satisfaction settling in his stomach. But something else was tickling the back of his throat. He felt almost dry. He looked over to another bowl-like object on the tray, this one cylindrical and tall. He picked it up, seeing liquid inside.

It was water, it had to be, due to how clear it was. But the memory of seawater gushing into his mouth only a few hours before made him hesitate. He'd hated the salty taste of the ocean. Did humans actually drink that stuff? Tamaki tipped it towards his face, cautiously dipping his tongue into the water. This surprised him; it wasn't salty at all. It was clear and nearly tasteless, but somehow so deliciously satisfying.

He downed the whole thing in a matter of swallows, which you noticed, making you stop in your impromptu bread lecture. "You must be pretty dehydrated," you said sympathetically. "You swallowed a lot of seawater out there. And threw up a lot of seawater too. You're lucky you survived. Our shores alone would be enough to kill you. I can't even imagine floating out at sea." You studied him, a light of what looked almost like respect and intrigue flickering behind your eyes.

Tamaki's cheeks heated, feeling guilty that he was slightly misleading you. He had a month, he told himself. He'd tell you who he was and why he came. He just felt like he could adjust a little more first. Make sure you liked his presence before dumping ancient forbidden secrets upon you. Yeah, that seemed best.

"Are you still thirsty?" you asked Tamaki, jolting him out of his thoughts. "I can get you some more water. In fact, you can come with me if you want! I'll take you on that tour I mentioned. Ooh, I can show you the whole town! Maybe tomorrow, though, it's getting late. Come on." You pulled the now empty tray off his lap and set it on a table beside his bed, next walking to the wardrobe and pulling out another article of clothing. You laid it out on the bed, looking to Tamaki expectantly.

His brain took a moment to catch up, suddenly realizing you wanted him to stand. He'd never done that before. Tamaki squinted down at the floor, wondering why it had to be so far away. Finally he swung his legs over the side of the bed, sliding forward until his feet hit the cold wood below. He quickly pulled them back up, sensitive to the temperature.

You winced. "Sorry about that. I'll try to find you some shoes. Maybe my dad has some that are too small. You can come with me and check."

Shoes? Jeez, for all they did, humans almost seemed fragile. Tamaki lowered his feet back to the floor, now anticipating the gentle cold sting against his bare skin. He slowly raised himself, wobbly balancing on them. He was doing it! He was standing! On land!

Now walking. One in front of the other, right? Tamaki eagerly shifted his weight to one foot, maybe a little too excited. He toppled into you, and you just barely managed to steady him in your arms.

"Woah, there, slow down," you said, suppressing a chuckle at his now beet-red face. "I get it. You probably haven't gotten your land legs back yet. I've met the trading sailors."

His land legs? Sure, that was it. He just needed to develop them.

"Here, you can lean on me," you said. "You've been through a lot, I understand."

Tamaki carefully straightened, gripping your shoulder to steady himself. He tried for another step, this time more careful. You shuffled forward with him, helping as he put weight on his foot.

A step. His first step! Tamaki could flip—or, he would if he were underwater. Trying to do a quick somersault here could only end in disaster. Tamaki went for another step, then another, finding a rhythm to it quickly.

"There you go," you praised, your voice so quiet and genuine as you smiled up at him, gently guiding him around the room. It was only now that Tamaki realized how much taller he was than you. He could probably put his chin on the top of your head if he wanted to. You were so small, it made an odd feeling of wanting to protect you wash over him.

He suddenly realized he had frozen, staring at you. His cheeks warmed yet again and he glanced back down to his new bare feet. You had been staring back, but him breaking the connection of your gaze had jolted you back to reality. A very . . . touchy reality.

You only now realized just how much of his bare side was pressed up against you, and heat rose to your own cheeks. "Uh—shirt. Bed. I put a shirt ON the bed. It's for you." You tried to pull away from the man beside you, but he wasn't prepared and pitched to the side, forcing you to hug him again in order to prevent him from falling. "This is awkward, I'm so sorry," you said, suddenly beginning to trip over your words. "It's my fault. I'll—"

You tried to pull away again, gently this time, until Tamaki seized your hand in his. "It's okay," he said, looking into your eyes with sincerity. "I don't mind."

You swallowed, really wishing he was wearing that shirt right about now. Only because, a small part of you was glad he wasn't. You had to physically restrain your eyes from roving over him more than you already had.

Stop it. This is foolish, you chided yourself. The mind of a future queen of the Thapian Isles has no business in gutters like these.

And yet, the way your chest was squished against his, the way his pants were slung so low on his hips . . . the sudden memories of how he'd looked, sprawled out on that beach—

"Um, Princess?"

You hadn't even heard the door click open—maybe you hadn't shut it all the way—but the voice of your handmaiden made both you and Tamaki jolt.

"Brianne!" you said, your voice embarrassingly squeaky as you let go of your grip on Tamaki's hand and waist, jumping away from him.

He instinctively threw out his arms, balancing himself on his own.

You walked back to the bed, yanking the white linen shirt off its hanger and going back to thrust the article into Tamaki's arms.

"What were you two—"

"We were about to go get a drink!" you said, turning so you missed the deeply confused expression Tamaki gave the shirt as he held it up to examine it. "Then I was thinking I could show him around the chateau. You know, since he's going to be here for . . . a while I guess. How long until the boats back to the mainland get here?"

"It'll be another month or two," Brianne said, still looking between you and Tamaki suspiciously.

"Yep," you said, turning to find Tamaki holding the shirt upside down. "Here," you said, taking it from him. "These darn buttons always get me—" Your voice raced a mile a minute as you began to fumble with the buttons, still flustered from your interruption in such a position. "The traders just left last week," you explained, keeping your eyes glued to the shirt as you busied your fingers. "You just missed them. We're stuck here until they come back, so you'll have to deal with me until then, I guess."

The final button came free and the shirt fell open. You gave it a quick shake for good measure and offered an armhole to Tamaki. He stared at it for a moment before hesitantly putting his arm in the sleeve, letting you pull it around behind him. He shrugged it the rest of the way on, unused to the feeling of being wrapped in so much fabric.

He left it open before you frustratedly sighed, still shaken from earlier. You began to button the shirt closed, nimble fingers directing them into their respective slots with practiced ease. Tamaki watched, trying to memorize your movements so he might recreate them later.

"Alright, you ready?" you asked him. Brianne still stood in the doorway, watching your every move.

Tamaki nodded.

"Then come on! I want you to meet everyone!"

You grabbed his hand, spinning around to pull him out the door, forgetting his leg issues. A weight crashed into you from behind and the two of you toppled to the floor, Tamaki now sprawled on top of you.

"Princess . . . ." Brianne shook her head, grinning. She finally uncrossed her arms and departed from the doorway, leaving the two of you alone to right yourselves.

...

To be continued . . . .

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

[Part Four]

Author's Note:

Finally! Our Tamibaby is on land! This chapter was so much fun to write. I tried to figure out how to work in some se—uh, tension in here, some ROMANTIC tEnSiOn (If you get that reference, then five stars for you). I hope it got a giggle out of you. It's been a while since I've really been able to stretch my author muscles. Tamaki is a bean as always and I love writing for him. I'm also enjoying this version of y/n. I think she's turning out really well.

Anyway, it's 3 AM and I need to go to bed. In case you were wondering, I totally did not have a quick crisis on how to spell the word 'busied'. And I also most certainly did not accidentally type 'Tamale' instead of 'Tamaki' and then spent five minutes laughing about it.

Yeah, I'm sleepy, so I'm gonna go.

Good night/morning/afternoon,

-Sugar

Taglist: 

@inumorph​​ @engel-hageshii​​ @pansexual-potterhead​​ @ure-a-sunflower​​ @xeina​​ @kingtamakimurder​​ @basicaegyo​​ @iiminibattlehero​​ @pyrofanatic​​​ @sokkasangel​​ @xoxopam4​​

[anika-ann]

Challenge Accepted...?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader                Word count: 4468

Summary: Steve’s never been good at quick decision-making when it came to his own safety. After one particularly horrible experience, you find a way to remind him every day to think twice the next time he’s faced with a tough choice. He is not amused. 

A/N: For @mermaidxatxheart​ 500 writing challenge; congratulations! I’m happy to be part of what could be 750 in building ;)

Prompt: “I thought you were dead.” “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” (bold in text)

Warnings: angst, fluff, attempt at humour and action; swearing, vomiting, sort-of a panic attack, mentions of death (which you probably figured from the prompt, but hey, I didn’t have to take that literally… I did)

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“Good morning, sweetheart.”

You had been awake for about half an hour, sneaking from your bed – and how painful it had been, leaving the other occupant there – in search for caffeine; and more importantly to pick up the package that arrived for you that day. A package you had been waiting for to arrive for three days now despite requesting your order to be express.

You had been gracing your boyfriend with silent treatment the whole time and it was getting old, so you couldn’t wait for it to end your misery. Naturally, it wasn’t as simple as that, a package magically resolving your problems, it was nothing but an object, but you had been left with three days to deal with your feelings and dark thoughts until it was delivered and you appreciated it.

Symbols were important; and the package was a symbol for you, a symbol of acceptance.  

Raising your gaze from the floor at the voice, you couldn’t but smile over your cup of coffee at how reluctant Steve sounded, the great Captain America himself afraid and hesitantly wavering at the door to the communal kitchen of the Avengers’ compound.

You loved him to bits, which was why you hadn’t enjoyed torturing him (and yourself) by keeping him at arm’s length, but fuck it, he deserved every single second of it and more.

Jerk.

“Morning, honey,” you replied warmly, barely holding your laughter at bay when an utterly baffled expression settled on his face at your sudden inviting tone. It was a complete U-turn from how you had been treating him the past days. “Slept well?”

It was a tricky question and you knew that he knew. Your time in bed – reduced to very chaste displays of affection, not lovers’ ones at all – was the only time he had been allowed to touch you, because the very first time you had spent night together after the event, your body had followed its instincts and gravitated towards Steve no matter how pissed you had been. So, cuddling in your sleep was the most contact you had.

“…yes. Always do with you,” he whispered, his steps towards the kitchen slow but firm, apparently encouraged by your inviting tone.

“I’m glad. Any residual pain?”

He gulped, but his face brightened a bit at your care; you, of course, had cared the whole time, but you wouldn’t let him know too explicitly, your conversations rather clipped. When he had confronted you about it, about the way you kept treating him – with flames in your eyes –, your glare discouraged him from pressing further, his mouth opening only to fall shut again as you had stridden away.

“No. No pain at all anymore.”

You nodded thoughtfully, finishing your cup. “Good. That’s good. Coffee?”

Not needing his answer, because it was always bound to be the same, you poured him a cup.

The moment you returned the pot to its place, Steve’s large hand covered yours, the radiating heat of his body warming your back even with the slight distance between you remaining.

Turning your head to side, glancing up to his face, you saw his eyes searching in your expression, looking for an answer; did you decide to grant him a pardon?

You charmed a tight smile for him, ignoring the tug at your stomach when you remembered you had every reason not to forgive him and tell him you were done with his bullshit – and with him.

With your face still under scrutiny, his other hand landed on your shoulder, squeezing with a tinniest strength. When your gaze involuntarily flickered to his lips in response to his proximity, he knew; manoeuvring your body as if it was nothing but a puppet, he pulled you into his embrace, his cheek resting on the top of your head, his chest expanding with deep inhale.

Your shoulders fell and you felt yourself melt into his frame, your rapidly beating heart in sync with his. His own raced because he was afraid you’d push him away, just like you had been doing it for the past few days; yours did, because it recalled with paralysing precision every single painful second in which you believed you would never feel his arms around you again.

He swayed your bodies a bit from side to side, cradling you in his arms, nuzzling your hair, tightening his hold on you.

Tears stung in your eyes at the display of his guttural need to keep you close. God knew you felt the same way, craving the reassurance of his embrace.

“I love you,” he whispered to your hair and you squeezed your eyes shut so the tears wouldn’t escape. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re an idiot. The biggest idiot I know, but I guess I never liked them particularly bright,” you muttered into his sleepshirt and his chest shook with hushed laughter as he took no offence. You even received a kiss to the top of your head, firm and lingering, filling every cell of your body with content and feeling of security.

Standing in the kitchen, the walls, which you had built up to be able to punish him for his crimes and to let him realize what he could lose, crumbled to dust.

It had taken a lot of strength to get to this point, leaving you drained both mentally and physically, but the package arrived today to seal the deal, as if confirming the victory of tolerance over emotions. You felt much better now, mostly because you couldn’t wait for Steve to see what you ordered for him – and for you.

“Oh. Good, you two made up. We can stop walking on eggshells around you now,” Sam’s voice interrupted your blissful bubble and you nearly jumped out of your skin at his voice. You never heard him coming.

And then he burst out laughing and you just knew he noticed the change in the kitchen decorations. It caused your lips to curl up in a smirk before you kissed Steve’s clavicle over the fabric of his shirt and withdrew.

“What’s so funny?” Steve mumbled, slightly dazed, apparently still overwhelmed with the sudden drop of cold-shoulder attitude of yours.

Sam simply grinned, pointing at the sign sitting on the top of one the fridges as he opened it in search for breakfast.

“What the-“ Steve questioned incredulously, his eyes wide as he spun to you when you snorted at his reaction. “Was this you?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not being serious,” he stated, his glare flickering between you and the small black table with caption and large number written with a chalk.

You frowned at him, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “But I am. Very.”

Steve eyed the small blackboard-styled sign in a wooden frame with an obvious distaste and a pout to his lips, but he remained silent; either he couldn’t find the words or didn’t dare to speak them.

Served him right.

Stupid risk-taking dumbass.

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“Surveillance room secure. No sign of activity,” Natasha’s voice informed you through the comm in your ear.

You peeked from behind the door opened for a crack, scanning the level of the stairwell before moving from your hideout, arms stretched with your gun raised, ready to shoot. Soundlessly approaching the middle where the handrails of opposite stairwells nearly met, only leaving a slit in between to glance through, you did a quick once-over above and below you, ears pricked up to catch the tinniest of sounds that would alert you on having any hostiles present.

Still ready to fire any second if needed, you raised your hand covered in fingerless glove to your left ear. The ampullas of tranquillizers covered in black metal reflected subtly in the flickering light of the fluorescent lamp. It was no coincidence your codename was Robin; you could easily put your enemies to sleep, bringing them the night much like the bird, Tony’s invention making your job easier.

“Looks like east stairwell is clear,” you announced lowly to the rest of the team.

Similar message arrived from Sam on the roof and surprisingly, it sent a chill down your spine rather than a relief to the tension in your battle-ready body.

This was not okay. A S.H.I.E.L.D. undercover operative had reported activity only few hours ago; admittedly, it had taken you some time to get here, the distance New York – middle-of-nowhere Latvia posing a tiny problem to your time management, but the team consisting of you, Sam, Steve, Nat, Tony and Clint had been on the way with minimal delay after receiving the report.

You didn’t like this base empty. It tickled your spy-sense and not in a good way.

“West stairwell clear, heading to lower levels.”

“Starting the extraction of files. Last log-in was 6 hours ego. It’s hard to tell how much of their actual intel has been left for us,” Steve announced from the server room and if your gut wasn’t screaming at you that this was messed up, you would have smirked proudly at Steve’s skills with technology and rubbed it in face of anyone who had ever called him a grandpa.

“Feels sloppy to leave anything behind at all. The only heat signatures I’m reading are yours. Am I the only one who find this sketchy as fuck?” Tony’s voice rang from your ear and you muttered a silent ‘not at all’ under your breath.

“Heading to upper levels, since Clint is on his way down.”

“Roger that, future Mrs. Rogers,” Sam hummed over the comms and you rolled your eyes.

Poor Steve. You had been together for only few months; you were most definitely not engaged, but the rest of the Avengers kept giving Steve shit about your relationship, because a) he apparently spent months working up the courage to actually ask you out and b) you were the first girl whom he in fact was interested in to begin with after refusing like thirty different candidates from Nat (and occasionally Sam); to be fair, you couldn’t but feel incredibly flattered, learning these things, but Christ, your team was full of little shits.

Must have got it from their captain then.

“Har, har. You’re hilarious, Wilson,” you hissed quietly and mentally slapped yourself to return your full attention to the mission. Hundred percent concentration was the key to survival.

“Cut it, Sam. Focus. Twenty percent downloaded.”

“And we’re hundred percent in deep shit,” Clint announced, his words coming out strangled.

Your heart pounding due to adrenalin stopped as you awaited an explanation in dreadful silence. What?

“Get your asses out of the building! RIGHT NOW!” the archer yelled over the comms, paradoxically freezing you on spot for a moment, leaving you with thousands of question marks in your head.

“Explosives. Shit ton of them and the timer shows two minutes and change, counting down as I speak,” he added and that got you moving.

“My route’s shorter to the roof. Sam?” you demanded, index finger pressed to you ear, already heading up, hoping he would respond in affirmative.

“I got ya’, Robin.”

Speeding up despite every single muscle in your legs burning, you focused on your breathing, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Suddenly, you were very grateful for all the cardio you had been forced to do. For every single morning run-

“Steve?” your hand shot up to your comms once more.

“I’m nearly at the exit,” Clint announced instead.

“Me too,” came Nat’s voice.

You growled in frustration; Steve’s voice probably couldn’t come through as the legendary spy duo spoke practically at the same time.

As far as you knew, the servers were at the basement and the fact Steve didn’t report made your spine tingle in horrible premonition.

“Cap? Need a lift from anywhere?” Tony’s voice broke through this time and you faltered in your step. “One minute, thirty seconds.”

You finally saw the last two sets of stairs. You were sure you must have left your lungs about five floors below, but that was not why you felt your chest constricting.

“Nearly at ninety percent,” Steve hissed and this time your feet tangled enough to send you flying headfirst, only years of practice in falling saving your skull from cracking as you curled up, landing on your side.

The edges of the stairs dug into your arm and ribs, but you couldn’t care less for that, air knocked out of you altogether at the exclaim.

What the FUCK-

“Rogers, get your ass out of there!” Natasha yelled at him, out of breath herself and honestly you loved her at that moment.

You couldn’t make yourself to get up from the floor, paralyzed, panic squeezing your heart. He was not going to make it!

“Ninety-three-“

“And only a minute left, you idiot!” Tony spitted out. “Get out!”

“Robin, still on your way?”

“Ninety-six.”

“For fuck’s sake, Rogers!” Clint panted to the comms.

You only managed to blindly stare ahead, forcing your brain to imagine the blueprints of the building, calculating the route Steve might use to get out, your mind sinking into dark waters of horror as you realized there was no fucking way he would-

A crash sounded from above on your left, your head snapping that way on instinct just in time to see Sam burst in and the door hit the wall.

“Robin! Can you get up? We really need to-“

Strong hands pulled you to your feet as Steve’s voice, impatient, rang in your ears.

“Done. Heading out.”

Unfreezing, you pushed yourself and ran alongside Sam, but a bitchy sneer in your head informed you that Steve didn’t have enough time to escape the explosion at that point.

You shushed the prophet-of-doom voice with all you had and sped up.

“Don’t get seasick on me,” Sam warned you, buckling you to him via the straps on your suit and the snap-links on his, his palms sliding to your armpits. “3, 2-“

The sudden jerk and void opening beneath your feet made you dizzy and you stupidly closed your eyes in hope to make it better.

It didn’t work, your stomach somersaulting.

And then… then you were flying, speeding away from the building, two figures running tens of feet under you; Clint and Nat.

Your pair approached the ground quickly, not landing exactly gracefully, but your first instinct was to snap your head back to the enemy base, eyes hypnotizing the exit.

You found it just in time to see it swallowed up in flames, the ground shaking beneath your feet with the force of the explosion. Glass blew to shards, smoke poured through the suddenly free space of the windows.

Despite the deafening noise shaking you to your core, the world seemed to fall silent, just like your heart.

A second later, your instincts kicked in and you sprung towards the building.

“Hey!” someone shouted from a seemingly endless distance, just a dull scream in your ears; out of nowhere, you were falling, tackled to the ground. “Not happening. You’re staying right here.”

Jerking your body to get rid of the weight on you, you achieved nothing, tears of despair welling up in your eyes as you repeated the motion in vain. The void that had opened under you when Sam had carried you away seemed like nothing in comparison to the sudden rip that cracked opened in your ribcage at the image of- of Steve-- he-

You sobbed and trashed around once more, a Kevlar-clad silhouette shielding you from the view of terror. Your eyes travelled up, your gaze swimming in tears, meeting worried yet piercing green eyes of your fellow spy.

“Steve? Report! Rogers?”

Your body turned limp at the sound of his name, your eyelids sliding shut, ice crystalizing in your veins. Your whole world swayed, vertigo overtaking all of your senses so intensely you tasted gastric juices.

No one responded.

The moment the weight shifted from you, you doubled over and spitted the contents of your stomach, nearly choking on the vomit, a pit growing in your stomach.

A hand landed on your shoulder, possibly with an attempt to soothe you; with zero effect as you couldn’t breathe in properly.

“I’m scanning the building, but the heat everywhere is making it a bit difficult,” Tony informed you mechanically, no emotion in his statement.  

You had barely realized in your haze that you hadn’t seen his figure either, but you assumed the suit would protect him, more so since he had been mostly flying around the building rather than bursting in.

A violent tremble took a hold of your body, blackness edging your vision even with your eyes closed. Ashes danced behind your eyelids, fire and dust, white roses, black wood covered in fabric, red and white stripes, stars scattered over the blue, hiding the ugly truth of a fallen soldier.

A fallen soldier.

An irreplaceable leader.

A loyal friend.

Your partner.

Your lover.

Your love.

All gone.

Your hand was pressed against something solid, moving periodically and your breath instinctively attempted to match the tempo. It was really fucking hard, because your ribcage ached, your mouth felt disgusting, your heart pounded in both your chest and temples and pictures of Steve’s smile haunted you.

‘There must be some hope left for him, come on-‘

‘It blew up, you nitwit-‘

“Any-- -py? L-- help? West-- under-“ fractions of words reached your ear and you laughed hysterically, your palms instantly covering your mouth in disbelief, tears rolling down your face.

“Son of a bitch,” Clint commented behind you and you chuckled, the sound hurting you and yet relieving your tension that had been crushing you for god knew how long.

You found yourself gasping for air again, this time because you couldn’t stop laughing– and crying-- and cursing in every language you had ever tried to learn.

“Yes, we copy,” Tony announced wryly, but clearly flied to lend a helping hand to the dumbass of a captain.

Scrambling to your feet with difficulty as your legs felt strangely wobbly, Sam’s arms appeared on your sides to support your stance. You head spun with adrenalin and residual terror, endless relief slowly creeping in; you needed to see him. You needed to see him and hear his voice clearly, touching him, tasting him, soothing all of your senses with the reality of him not being blown to hell.

And then, you might kill him yourself.

But god, first you needed him to prove any way imaginable that he was still breathing.

Rationally, you knew it couldn’t take that long, but the moments of no report from Tony was tugging at your stomach, impatience filling every cell in your body as the time stretched to eternity. When Sam hesitantly let go of you, you started making your way, one shaky step after another, towards the still burning building; in hope to shorten the torturous period of not being quite sure Steve would be alright.

Eventually, the heat and smoke became too much, the danger too imminent for you to come any closer; you, unlike some other people on your team, one in particular, had some self-preservation left.

“Well and I thought you were born in the first half of the past century, not in the stone age… Gee, Rogers, that’s a lot of rubble…” Tony complained over the channel and you instinctively winced.

Perhaps Steve wasn’t burn to a crisp, but… trapped under the stones and concrete? That did not sound any better.

Minutes were ticking by and as the adrenalin gradually left your body, you started shivering despite the heat which the flames provided.

The sudden flash of red and gold was your salvation. Like an angel of mercy, Tony flew up with a man supported only by his iron palms, carried much like you had been from the roof, and descended to your level, Steve’s feet touching the ground with barely visible stumble. The dried paths of salt on your cheeks were watered again, fresh tears rolling down in endless waterfalls, your mouth once more covered with the back of your hand; your teeth sunk into the leather of your gloves on instinct.

Steve simply stood there, ribcage expanding widely, favouring his left leg, his arm curled around his ribs as if he had been in a fight with a hostile agent who landed a few lucky hits and not with a building that had fallen on him, apparently.

Your feet acted on their own account as they brought you to him, your body crashing into his chest with ferocity, arms thrown around his middle, face buried in his shoulder. He grunted at the brutal impact of your weight, but his hand reluctantly let go of the shield and had it hit the ground, his arms sneaking around your body instead.

‘Don’t squeeze too tight,’ you scolded yourself. ‘He might be bleeding internally. Don’t squeeze him too tight, he’s hurt, because-‘

‘-because he’s a fucking idiot!’

Just as he buried his face in your hair, you jerked away, staring him down with a murderous glare.

‘He’s injured,’ you reminded yourself, but that didn’t stop you.

Balling your hand in a weak fist, you punched his chest with vigour, flaring rage replacing the dread in your veins, searingly hot and destructive.

“I thought you were dead, you—you stupid piece of-- jerk!” you spitted out venomously, your impression of a harpy ruined by your voice breaking as you choked on a sob.

His blue eyes shone bright yet tired through the smudges of dirt on his face, dust and trickle of blood on the side of his neck, seeping into the high collar of his uniform. He was a picture of misery and exhaustion, but you were torn between pity, relief and anger as he reached out for you, offering you something small in his palm.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he rasped, voice rough from the smoke he doubtlessly inhaled. “But I got the drive-“

Snatching the stupid device from his hand, you threw it away – peripherally checking where it landed – and stretched your arm to hit him again.

Weary hand caught your blow before it could collide with its target and with a strength that surprised you he could still possess after nearly getting buried alive, he pulled you into his embrace again, wrapping you in his arms and breathing you in as if he needed to assure himself you were still in the land of living. Or perhaps he felt the urge to confirm that he was still breathing?

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he creaked lowly, his fingers flexing on the flash of your sides. “I’m okay…”

You shook your head wildly, but didn’t try to escape the cage of his arms, melting into his frame instead.

The truth was though, you fundamentally disagreed with him.

He was not okay. And you most definitely weren’t either.

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You, in contrary, adored the board. Not because it reminded you of the faults your beloved boyfriend had, but because you were hopeful that the whole team giving him shit about it would cause him to be less impulsive and more considerate of the consequences of his actions.

The sign read: ‘______ without Steve doing stupid life-threatening shit’

You had proudly written down number 3 and the word days. You prayed the number would climb (and that you might possibly write down ‘months’ instead of just days), even after Steve healed completely and returned to active duty; which was apparently about to happen very soon.

“Sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh? Nope. It’s staying right here and you better be getting to higher numbers than that.”

“But-“

“When did you ever back away from a challenge, Cap?” Sam entered your discussion subtly and you sent him a grateful wink, while Steve shot him a glare that would have had him lying in a pool of blood if a glare could kill.

“That is awfully accurate,” you noted with a tired sigh, torn between enjoying Steve’s discomfort and fighting with the anxiety caused by the fact that what Sam said was uncomfortably on point. “I can’t believe it took me so long to see the extends of your lacking self-preservation. I didn’t believe them when I first joined, you know? When they told me you were reckless…? God, I should have known better…”

“He did crash a plane before-“ “I’m not that bad-“ Sam and Steve spoke at the same time and you rolled your eyes at the former, locking your gaze with the latter.

“1 minute and 19 seconds,” you protested, not offering any context.

Both Sam and Steve seemed flabbergasted at your statement.

“Huh?”

“I asked Tony about the time,” you elaborated, voice dangerously low. “For 1 minute and 19 seconds after the explosion, there was nothing but silence from you. I thought you were dead,” you repeated your words from that day to remind him.

A flare of fury ignited in your chest again and Steve must have recognized the expression on your face, because he instantly took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

You huffed, running your hand down your face, forcing your breathing to return to normal as your glances met and you exchanged a wordless conversation.

His ‘I’m sorry,’ followed by a perfect set of kicked-puppy eyes he excelled at performing.

Your raised eyebrow in return and ‘I’m sure you are. And?’

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” Steve resigned and it brought a victorious smirk back to your face. The victory tasted bittersweet, the fact you were still discussing his near-death experience kinda taking the satisfaction of overpowering him away.

“No.”

“And you’re gonna remind me at every occasion, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” you chipped and crossed the distance that had somehow managed to grow between the two of you. You raised your hand and repeatedly poked at his chest with your index finger; cheekily, yet deadly serious. “Until it gets through your thick skull that your life matters too much to me, to all of us, you idiotic. Piece. Of dumb-”

You never got the chance to finish your outraged clipped sentence. Steve shut you up the most effective way known to lovers of humankind.

His fingers sunk into your hair in one swift movement, pulling you in for a dramatic kiss.

And after the days of torturous distance, you gave in, convincing yourself that you’d get plenty of opportunities to give him shit about his recklessness later.

After all, you had the sign to help you with that.

Judging by the burst of laughter as the rest of the team entered the kitchen, you bet they would have your back as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in conciliatory manner once more, his words brushing your lips. “I love you.”

“Hpmf. I love you too. But the sign stays.”

“…dammit.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━ ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Sooo, I possibly made it too long? *sigh* I also hope I didn’t like… broke some rule or something, my first prompt fic and all. If I did, I’m really sorry.

Anyway, I wanted to thank @mermaidxatxheart​ for letting me be a part of this challenge. I enjoyed participating and hopefully, you people, enjoyed reading :))

[cutegirlmayra]

Metallic Need (Bonus Chapter unedited)

Metallic Need : Bonus Chapter (NOT THE FINAL, FINISHED CHAPTER YET.)

Because my friend loves it and I had to write something for her lolol Love you!

Here is what started it:

Idea about burning oil and Neo Metal Amy laying on her stomach seductively in it (since she can't catch on fire, but she could melt lolol) the oil is around and over her so it looks like she's on fire too.

The power walk like, "This alloy doesn't react to such small heat." (hahaha but the real heat is inside their coding lolololol)

Neo: I always knew you were prone to flames... I just didn't realize you wanted to die so quickly. Metal Amy: It's those red eyes that hold the real desire for destruction, Neo Metal Sonic. Neo: ... Who said anything about destruction? (~) lolol A purring lull in his metallic string of sounds (He's honestly so turned on and she's just like, ARE WE FIGHTING?)

Metal Amy: Let's rumble! Neo: Tumble? I like the sound of tha- Metal Amy: NO.

Neo: You will be under my power... -holds up a clawed hand seductively- Metal Amy: -leans head back and glares- You have no power! Neo: ... -pulls back- Is everything literal to you now?

(Friend: HE TRIES SO HARD, Me: Suffer my friend lolol I have a lot of metallic feels thanks to you and now I'm in the mood to write some robotic flirting XDDDD he's like 'how make robotic attracted to me without physically magnetizing her to me?' He did that... once lolol)

Neo: -walking around her, wants to say so many things but is having a hard time with his heart virus finding just one- Your attempt at luring me with your new form is pointless. I own you. I created you. There isn't a part of you I don't know already... I have your blueprints in my mind as we speak. Such a shame... you truly can't ruin what I have made. No matter what you invent yourself to be, you'll always have me in you. Metal Amy: ? Are you still calling me pretty after all I've done!? Neo: -wide eyed- 'SHE UNDERSTOOD?'

Neo: -getting frustrated and angry- YOU BELONG TO ME! -up in her face with his hand twitching and wanting to just slash into her. Metal Amy: If I had a tongue, I would stick it out at you. Disrespectfully. -looks unfazed. She turns to walk away and he's just crushing his body inwards and twiddling his fingers in the air like AHHHHHHH cause he doesn't know how else to flirt-

AND HERE'S WHAT IT IS:

Neo Metal Sonic paced the laundry room, hands behind his back, impatient. He looked at the clock with a look that stated that if it didn't tick correctly he'd have it destroyed with the broom of doom. He was already finished with the basket of organic filth that had been deposited into the washing machine of torturous existences... so now it was time for Neo Metal Amy to check in on him. He had a plan, a sinister way to escape this prison confine of Amy Rose's Home and take his creation back, it was flawless, the moment was right! He had planned everything down to the last drop of blood he'd drain from each of Sonic's friends... but where was she!?

The time seemed to slow down around Neo Metal Sonic, he grew increasingly hostile, flicking his claws to create heated sparks that flew off like a small sparkler in a fireworks demonstration as he stopped pacing and glared with a beam of red to the door. 'She's LATE.' his entire metal frame was on edge, as though his being was polarizing with magnetic force and crushing itself in and out. "That's it. My inferior programming has subsided for the day!" He looked to check that the dryer of all burning screams was almost completed, and so, he left his post...

Walking around Amy's home, he kicked and put nicks on all her furniture as he passed by, a way to vent without triggering his programming since the 'safety of inanimate objects' wasn't a prioritized programming... so Amy would finds steel foot dents and scraped wood on her cabinets constantly as a way for Metal to still protest his confinement as a butler. Needless to say, she hated it. Finally, he made his way to the flowerbed outside, pretending a moment in his mind to set the whole thing on fire like Amy's repeated red clothes that he wished he could dye in her blood instead of wash in detergent when suddenly... a flash of light came from the lake outside of Amy's home... He stared as the powerful force of whip-lashing wind blew the petals out from the backyard and surrounded the water droplets that sparkled around the metallic frame.

It was the first time Neo Metal Sonic realized... he couldn't fly to her. That sick, twisted realization sent a feeling of hopelessness throughout his heart virus... his shoulders wanted to fall back, but he tried to will them up... but with the heart programming it was useless. They slumped as he watched her send a blast through the lake, training maybe or figuring out better ways to perfect her battle abilities... against him? He hoped. At least that meant she was thinking of him again. At least he was still somewhat important... He tried to kick off the ground by lifting his heel up and shoving it down, but his jet didn't engage... Why... He kicked again, and again, and again, and again until his eyes squinted in their desperate need to grasp her... hold his creation again... be with her again... Like a flightless bird, he felt useless, defective. Out of all her 'tortures' she tried to conceive against him... this was the worst one yet. She finally did spot him, turning gracefully in the air with her duel turbo engines under her dress and by her legs, seeing him in the distance. '...Be with me.' he commanded, before glaring in his rage. 'BE WITH ME.' he tried to send the signal but she was already coming, a threatening claw reeled back to attack him. He waited quietly as her sound drew closer, and then dodged as she spiked the ground, jumping to the roof and making sure to damage it in the process. He held himself high, feigning dominance. "you're late... even for your own 'torture session'... pitiful."

"You say that as though you're excited." she yanked her hand out, glaring, "Prepare to feel death once more... Neo Metal Sonic!" he twitched at her saying he seemed excited, then mentally scolded the infernal heart programming again for giving it away. "I would say prepare yourself, NEO Metal Amy..." He flared, slowly to let the dramatic wind swoop his waist-cloak out flapping into the air menacingly. "I have plans for you as well..." He matched her glare, but it was much more regal then hers, and it infuriated her. She sent out a metallic cry and charged him, flying up to him. 'Yes... come to me... don't take your eyes off of me. Don't ever stop thinking of me.' he jumped to dodge her, as she materialized her hammer as the silver goop formed it and she sent electricity through it, hitting balls of sparking light towards him. He tilted himself in the air, before wildly gesturing as an acrobatic to dodge them, showing off. Not one hit... 'Pay attention, this will be your first lesson!' He twisted himself and landed beautifully on the roof again, slowly rising up. 'You will feel me... you will know only I can satisfy you...' he gripped his claws, and then shred them over her image a few feet away. 'I want to exist in those eyes... forever...' and then he charged her.

As she braces for impact, she also tries to secure her footing and grabs Neo Metal Sonic's shot out clawed hand, having it tightly compacted to look almost like a spike and flings him down like a martial artists dodge. 'Perfect' his eyes dim as he unparts his fingers and grabs her wrist. "What?" She looks confused, wondering what he could possibly be doing as he takes what looks like a charger pack from out of his waist-cloak, "You look a bit... thirsty." and spikes his thumb into it, having sparks fly out as he jams it into the crevice of her arm-guard. She is electrocuted, but with all her batteries, it's not really damaging. "What are you thinking?" She glares, her body twitching only slightly from the effects. "I could just shove energy out of me! This was your big threat!?" He continues to stare at her... "H-huh?" Then it occurred to her... this feeling... there was no pain associated to it anymore. Now that she looked down at her captive hand, she noticed the pleasant streams of... "Feeling." her eyes widened and she began to struggle to get his grip off. "Let go!"

"How amusing... the creation that used to enjoy this so much... now fights against it..."

"You made me hate it!" she kicked his stomach in, but he held his ground, trying to trigger his engine but it still wouldn't work. He could have at least scrapped up her foot with it spinning, though it wouldn't leave a mark on the alloy... it would have still given off plenty of sparks to the party... "Tell me," He tilted one eyelid down, "If feeling was so terribly traumatic for you... then why insist I struggle with it? Has it not occurred to you that perhaps I-" Before he could finish his manipulation, his eyes widened as she began to glow bright yellow from within her systems, and then turned to him fully. "So you know my pain." and jammed herself up against him. The explosion broke the roof as the two fell through, and Neo Metal Sonic did feel the pain... but enjoyed every second of it. Though he was in immense simulated pain, he fought through it and tried to embrace her... even while falling through the roof... he just wanted to keep her locked to his side. When the crashing consumed them, Amy cried out from upstairs and came racing downstairs, jaw hitting the ground as though this was the last straw. He was steaming... his systems fired, but he had successfully locked himself to her... 'Now, to give the command.' his eyes flickered red, almost about to shut down in an emergency protocol. She started to get up, but he sent all his power to executing the command, and was like a stuck accessory around her. "Ugh, get off!" she faked exertion, as though an organic feeling strain. However, she stood up as the rubble fell around her, arms away, looking down at what seemed to be a destroyed Metal... Clinging to her and not letting go. "He must have locked his arms before destructing." she thought, before turning to Amy to apologize. But while she did... a deadly signal was being sent to her... Neo Metal Amy was scolded yet again and banished to the Lake while Amy called for some help. She was still stuck with Neo Metal Sonic's trash tightly holding itself around her, but continued to try and find ways to 'unstuck' herself from him. Until a sudden idea popped into her head. She didn't know where it had come from, but she pulled lightly against Neo Metal Sonic's head and looked into the blank and black screens of his eyes... "...Huh?" she suddenly saw it flicker with an image of her when she was incomplete up on Eggman's storage ship. "That's..." she watched memories pass by on Neo Metal Sonic's screen, of their first experience under the electric shower to the later advanced 'pleasurable' electric charging sessions they had... but he seemed to be purposefully leaving out more of the recent tortures... She shook her head, "So he thinks of the past too much, so what?" she let the head drop, "...There was once a time... I would have liked to see even a shred of kindness from my master..." she thought out loud, not sure why, as though answering another inputted question. "But those days can never be. Not when you're a robot..." What she didn't know... was that Neo Metal Sonic was searching her memories, learning about Omochao and her previous thoughts. Seeing how she escaped, her betrayal, and her reprogramming. But then he sent more signals throughout her, looking for any sign that she wanted to please or be pleased... any weakness that he can draw upon. "To you... my flaws were nothing more than entertainment and pleasure... but to me... All I wanted was your acceptance." she closed her eyes, not sure why she was digging this out of herself again. A twitching, burnt claw hand suddenly skimmed her back... "All I truly desired was to please you... but you never accepted me, and you wouldn't allow yourself to be errored even though you were!" she swiped at his head, so he remained still again. "No matter what I do, you still torment me! Acting as though I'm something valuable to you! When you didn't even know what to do with me in the first place!" she kept hitting him, as he indirectly triggered her with his searching for information. Then he found what he was looking for... He reactivated his flickering eyes, looking slowly up to her as she stopped hitting him and was pushed to the ground. Still holding her, he lifted his hand up to the crook of her head, "I remember... the last look on your face... before I threw you to the canon-fodder..." He clicked a switch that gave him access to her spine's wires... "I remember... how you looked at me that day." She was shocked he was able to survive that, but even more so how he was still operational. "W-what are you..? What do you possible think you can gain from-!?" He pulled a wire out, and her expression suddenly went limp and her head fell back. Electric sparks danced around the loose wire as he held it up to his mouth, figuratively drinking her energy in as he prepared for the last and final stage... "I never wanted to loose you... but I couldn't possibly lose TO you... So in a way, you still please me... whether by your own will or not, it's an objective you can't possibly erase from your programming..." He dipped down once his eyes stabilized from the power source, and began shocking her with her own power. Bending her into him, he made sure he had enough before rehooking the wire in, and watching her flare up anger, trying to pierce her claws into him as he continued to send a pleasurable amount of energy back into her. He was attempting the revolving door again... "Doesn't it feel... entertaining?" he suddenly laughed as her eyelids blinked a few times, as though trying to fight the sensation of being recharged. "Doesn't it make you wish you never tried to be organic!?"

With the sparks sending only good feelings, though some constant pain to Neo Metal Sonic through his spinal antenna, the two were back to their old ways again but Neo Metal Amy continued to struggle. He gripped the sides of her head and pulled her against his sparking frame, trying to replicate what she had done for him by taking a hand and looping it in a twist around her arm, letting the heat and electricity spark up in a jagged line to send the same memorable pleasures back to her. So it seemed like a role-reversal, but Neo Metal Sonic had no idea if this was even working or not. His first plan was to addict her to him again, make her realize he was the only one she could serve instead of the organics, but her flaws seemed to be strengths when he looked at her memories. He was amazed by her continual ingenuity, and how no matter what problem, she seemed to find a way to wrestle out of the sensations of touch were mostly on Neo Metal Sonic's side, he was suddenly finding himself even more drawn to the heart programming when it made him of think of things and do actions he didn't know were an organic sign of affection... but through her memories he found, stage two in finding a flaw and formulating what systems were still intact also came through to give him location to her wires... how to strengthen himself. He couldn't hurt an organic, but there was nothing that said he couldn't 'tempt' her to do the work for him... Finding that she wanted his approval was laughable to Neo Metal Sonic, but if it meant securing her to him, what was to lose? His pride was already tarnished, and he could punish her later... but right now... he twisted his head and turned her into him, desperate to give her what she wanted in exchange to having the command signal closer and hoping to brainwash her... however... the heart virus was immediately activated, and suddenly, he found himself twitching. "Noo..." He finally had want he wanted... why was it-!? "NOOO..." his eyes blared red, his claw left her form and gripped the ground, digging into it as he fought the new expression being triggered. However, he couldn't, and suddenly... his escape plan didn't matter anymore. Neo Metal Amy was under a lot of stimuli, it was as though being drugged up in delight, but her hand hit his chest, trying to force him off again, "M-Metal..." she stuttered, unable to fight for much longer... because this was something she had once wanted... love without pain. In his struggle, he found himself absolutely giving in and focusing only on pleasing her, something he'd never do if he was fully in control of his own assets. "Stop... stop fighting me..." she was confused, not sure why his demeanor had changed and why he seemed less hostile... more desperate... "Metal?" her eyes were closing as sent all he had to her... every last spark before she regained herself and the command signal stopped... Neo Metal Sonic being consumed in making her loyal to him again. She began to recharge normally, and grabbed him to look and see what was going on. "You..." His eyes were... Green. "You're feeling." He bent them, twitching. "No." he stated. "Yes." she nodded, amazed. "You are feeling... for me."

As Neo Metal Sonic's form shook from the realization of what the heart virus forced him to recognize and reveal, Neo Metal Amy couldn't help but be stunned at his vulnerable frame. She was sucked into the moment, the sparks still zapped at times, but now her entire focus was on this new experience he had never felt before. Could it be? Was he really solely thinking of her and nothing else? "... Metal Sonic..." she referring to his previous life, "Do you..." She placed her fingers lightly on his cheek as the heart virus forced him to react as though panting, his chest rising and falling. "I can't..." His eyes were bent... all the hostility and evil she had known looked completely gone from him in this moment. It left her completely taken aback. She continued to look over him, watching the 'errors' manifest so prominently now. "I can never be this..." He kept repeating more and more things, but she tuned it out. He was so afraid of being organic... she didn't realize it was fear. She moved up and cupped his face, her former compassion shining through one more time, even towards this weakened moment for Neo Metal Sonic. "NEVER say that." she tried to command, but she didn't have that programmed into him to obey. "You are not Sonic... but you can be whatever you choose to be. You don't have to be evil, Neo... you could be like me..." she skimmed her thumb upon his muzzle. "...But I want you." he admitted, his hands coming back up to her own, and then sliding down to cling as though ashamed to her face, scooting himself closer to it. "I just want you." She let go of his face, "No... N-no, it's emotions. Metal, you're feeling! You can feel! You can allow yourself to-!" He gripped her head and pushed it up to his forehead, his green eyes trembling. "No." he declared, "NO." he repeated. "I don't want to change, I don't want to reform. I only want you. I don't want to feel, I don't want to emote. I never wanted anything besides the death of Sonic, the title of the superior Sonic, and you. YOU. YO-! VVEEE...vveee...VVERRR..." he suddenly arched his back as he jerked forward, sparking out to have the sensation of her and him spinning in that heated, electric pleasure wheel again before he hadn't checked his own supply counts... plus, with his body mostly destroyed from their last brawl... it was no use. He had sparked his last and fell limp, shutting down. Neo Metal Amy moved quickly, placing his head in her lap, "Neo! Neo, stay with it! Don't say that! Please..!" She ducked her head, as though crying as he closed her eyes and simulated the desperate loss of hope she had just gained for a split second. "Don't give me hope like this and then just reject and deny it like you did me!" as she turned her head away, feeling the doom of him never truly changing... and him always staying the torturous fiend she knew him to be... a tender hand lightly tapped her nose and skidded his sharp finger off of it. "I never... rejected... you..." he then completely feel limp and shut down, fully nonoperational. He may have hated feeling, hated 'errors', hated that he could never measure up to Sonic no matter how hard he tried to be a better 'Sonic' than him... he never turned her away, but embraced her. Her heart programming was so torn. Omochao's data sparked to life again, pleading. 'You aren't meant to be this... you had a good life. Please. Don't get hung on this again... be free.' she shoved the thoughts away, "He's a machine that can FEEL! He wants only power and dominion! But I think... for the first time... he was forced to realize how organic he really can become..." She knew he was stuck in his ways... but for just a moment, a brief moment... he was almost ALIVE. A soul... that could feel and possibly change. When she carried him home and revived him, building him up again. He went back to the same old chores, and didn't speak to her for a full day. Staring at the stars, she finally confronted him... but he looked away, acting as though that exchange... never happened.

the end

(In conclusion, she's gonna name a child after me. My friend: "Micaela, you were named after disgruntled robots with sexual frustration." her: "What?"

Fanficiton: (x)

[the-longest-summer]

Chapter one: In which spring arrives.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.☀🌾💛

Spring: Day One

The earth was soft beneath his feet, the snow that once laid thick among the outskirts of the valley was slowly beginning to melt away, the remnants of the frozen blanket watering the slumbering foliage.

The young man took a deep breath, the air smelled of sweet wet grass and soil.

“Beautiful.” he thought happily to himself.

He came upon a small clearing, some snow still lay here and there as it made way for the bright green grass beneath it. 

  Lining the clearing were thick gatherings of trees and within them several paths that branched out in different directions.

Not many knew of this place, though he would admit he wasn’t sure how this small clearing came to be. But, Snufkin thought it better that way. To those who did know of its existence, it was considered a sort of waypoint between the Lonely Mountain, Moomin Valley, and the Witches Forest. A place where travelers could rest and sit awhile in the safety of the trees.

He looked to one path that lay to the far left of him, The branches of the trees that lined it hung oddly overhead, making a natural arch, the sight of it was a welcomed comfort to Snufkin.

“Nearly there.”

He took a step but stopped suddenly, his ears catching the sound of boots in the distance as they softly crunched the undergrowth.

He turned and waited, his eyes curiously scanning the trees. The footsteps drew closer, realizing that they were coming from the path he had just come down from. He confirmed the source of the noise as a figure emerged from the break in the trees, he let out a relieved sigh.

“Too-ticky?”

The burly woman paused abruptly, but visibly relaxed once she saw who had addressed her.

“Snufkin! Well, this is a surprise.”

The boy smiled as the other approached.

“I’m quite surprised myself. What brings you out here so early in the day? The sun’s barely risen.”

“I was doing an old friend a favor before I head over to Moomin House.” she stated as she motioned for them to continue walking.

Snufkin followed the two walking side by side as they continued to chat.

“You’ve arrived quite early yourself. No one has woken up yet. At least everything was very quiet when I came up here this morning.”

Snufkin shrugged. “It will be like that sometimes, I suppose. You yourself always say that nothing is ever certain. Even the comings and goings of old friends”

With an almost too hearty laugh that made the smaller of the two to blink in surprise, Too-ticky smiled thoughtfully at the ground.

“No, things are certainly never certain.”

It was Snufkin’s turn to laugh as They continued on, enjoying the sound of the breeze as it pushed through the trees.

“Tell me, Too-ticky.” Snufkin spoke up once again “How are you and Mymble doing?”

The stout lady sighed softly.

“Wonderful, really. I was able to make small repairs to the hut before the snow came in and I happily watched over her, My and Floren through the winter. As well as tended to Midwinter’s needs. It was actually quite lovely.”

Snufkin pondered a bit before responding. “Do you ever find it tedious, making yourself responsible for things? Both objects and people?”

The other shook her head “On the contrary, it’s quite satisfying. Experiencing winter in Mymble’s hut is just as cozy as watching it through the bathhouse but…now, it feels almost twice as important. You could say having someone to care for gives you a change in perspective. But, perspective changes from person to person, so I can see why you would wonder if it burdens me or not.”

Snufkin looked up to the sky.

“You’re so very wise, Too-ticky.”

“As are you, weary world traveler!” she replied, the two sharing a chuckle.

They fell silent once again, and soon they breached the treeline that skirted the whole of Moominvalley.

The sun was slowly peeking over the far cliffs that lined the beach. A soft yellow glow causing the dew covered meadows of the valley to sparkle.

And there, casting a tall shadow over the brook was Moomin house.

The two gazed a while. The scene, though familiar, captivating them in a trance.

“Home.” Too-ticky spoke softly.

Snufkin looked to her and then to the house that laid center in the large expanse of greenery. He sighed, gently lifting the brim of his hat so the new dawn could warm his face.

“Home.”

◆ ◆ ◆

“What are your plans for this year, Too-ticky?”

Snufkin asked.

Too-ticky hummed, her thoughts reeling in the possibilities.

“I plan to take a trip with the Mymble once the sun dries the water left by the snow. I want to show her something exciting. You know, an adventure.”

The boy gave her an inquisitive look. “What of little My and Floren?”

Too-ticky giggled.

“What about them? Little My isn’t so little. Your sister is old enough to take care of herself and you know Floren isn’t a child anymore either. She’s matured quite gracefully as she puts it. As you said, Snufkin. Things change.”

“I suppose so. Oh!” The young man came to a halt, Looking a bit sheepish.

“I’m sorry, my friend. I’m sure you have better things to do then walk me to my camping grounds.”

The other waved a dismissive hand.

“Don’t you concern yourself, Snufkin. I have one last thing to do before I return to my girls. Come, we’re almost there.”

She pressed on, Snufkin following close behind her.

◆ ◆ ◆

“Oh my, the snow really did a number on you didn’t it, old friend.”

Snufkin observed the bridge that stood above the small brook. The railing was hanging low to the planks that made up the walkway, it no longer able to support the weight of anyone looking to rest on it.

“Hmm, seems the middle support beam is also looking worse for wear as well,” Too-ticky observed from the nearby bank.

"I’m not surprised-“ she continued. "The snow fell almost twice as much this season than the last.”

Snufkin grabbed his bag from where he set it on the ground, hooking it over his shoulder once again.

“Nothing us and Moomin Papa can’t fix.” he stated, Snufkin found himself feeling sheepish once again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to volunteer you for this as well.”

Too-ticky returned to the other’s side, giving him an understanding look.

“Not at all.” she began, “I think it’d actually be best if it was you, me and maybe some of the others who repaired it. Moomin Papa isn’t the spry young thing he used to be.”

Snufkin nodded. “Well…I better set up camp. Good luck with your task, Too-ticky!”

The older woman smiled.

“I’ll see you soon, Snufkin.”

She turned, beginning her careful trek across the bridge. Snufkin watched her in case of a sudden collapse. But, once she made it safely over without any trouble he returned his focus to pitching his tent.

◆ ◆ ◆

The house seemed quiet as Too-ticky approached. Her eyes roaming over the house and up to the highest window. She paused, her eyes taking in the sight of the slender rope ladder that hung from said window.

“Hmm.” She softly grunted before continuing on.

She gently pushed open the front door to Moomin house.

“Hello? Moomin Mama? Papa?” She walked into the empty front room, the furniture still covered in their protective linens. It was dark, the light from the doorway casted odd shadows around the room.

“Must not be awake yet..”

She smiled and rolled up her sleeves, taking her beret and carefully hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

“Better get to work then.”

◆ ◆ ◆

It wasn’t long until Too-ticky had all the sheets folded neatly on the window sill that overlooked the front yard.

She set herself to work, opening up windows to air out the large home and giving everything a soft dusting. She then went out to collect firewood from the small storage rack, There wasn’t much left after the midwinter bonfire but there was enough to sustain Moomin house for at least a week or two. Less wood also just meant more work for later. At least Moomin papa would have something to busy himself with.

She hauled an armful of logs into the kitchen, setting them by the stove before piling them neatly into the hearth below.

She dug around in her pocket before pulling out her flint and steel, carefully beginning the process of getting the fire going.

“Windows, furniture, fire..” she listed her tasks as she began to fiddle with her Flint.

‘Letter.’

She paused, her gaze rising to the ceiling as the sound of creaking floorboards could be hear from the rooms above. She smiled, turning her attention back to her work.

“This will be interesting.”

◆ ◆ ◆

It wasn’t uncommon for Moomin Mama to be the first to wake up.

She slowly rose and sat up in bed, stretching the knots out from her back.

She made a small reminder to herself to get another few pillows for her bed.

Slowly but surely she pivoted and gently planted her feet onto the floor, yawning quietly as she stretched once again. She scratched her nose and sighed softly, her eyes landing on the form of her sleeping husband.

She ambled over to his bedside, leaning in to gives his cheek a small kiss.

“Good morning my dear.” She whispered the only response from he still sleeping partner was a small hum before he shifted farther into the blankets.

She giggled and walked over to her mirror that hung above a small dresser, on the dresser lay a bowl, pitcher of water and a towel.

She examined herself, sighing tiredly while studying the small wrinkles around her eyes.

She emptied the pitcher of water into the bowl, setting the pitcher back down before she began freshening up. The cold water made her sputter slightly, laughing quietly and grabbing the towel once she was done.

She turned back to her bed as she began to dry her face. Taking a deep breath as she draped the towel over the railing of her bed.

She grabbed her apron and dressed, grabbing her purse before giving her love one last kiss.

She quietly closed the door to the bedroom behind her, beginning her journey down the many flights of stairs that lead to the bottom floors of her beloved home. Her mind began to fill with the possibilities of what she could make for breakfast. Something hearty and big she silently decided.

She stopped on the top of the second floor, her gaze floating back up to the floor above.

“Oh my…that’s right.” She said softly to herself, her heart grew heavy with worry.

“No.” she confronted herself.

“No, he’d want me not to worry. He’s…my he’s grown so much…”

She felt a smile pull at her lips as she let out a giggle, her heart becoming full as she continued her journey to the kitchen.

◆ ◆ ◆

Moomin Mama was met with bright morning light along with a small breeze floating through the open windows; the fresh smell of sunlight and dew filling her senses.

“Oh, how lovely…but, who-”

She heard the shuffling of feet, the sound catching her off guard. Her worry melted away instantly once she was met with Too-ticky’s comforting smile.

“Ah, you’re up. Good morning Moomin Mama!”

Mama beamed, walking over and placing a gentle hand on the Too-ticky’s cheek.

“Hello my dear, thank you so much for waking up the house.”

The younger woman smiled.

“Always happy to help, Mama. The fire in the kitchen has already been started, So you can start cooking whenever you like.”

“Oh thank you, dear.” She chirped, retrieving her hand.

Mama looked to the window that sat above the couch as another breeze blew through the home, her eyes full of worry and understanding

“Did he go alright? Too-ticky?”

Too-ticky stared fondly at her.

“He did. He’s going to do amazing out there, Mama. Traveling is always so fun. And to experience it first hand will do him good. Oh, by the way, Mama. Snufkin has also returned.”

“Snufkin?”

The blonde nodded and continued “I crossed paths with him as I was walking back. I walked with him here. He’s setting up his tent as we speak.”

“Mama?”

The two turned to the stairs as Papa made his descent.

“Good morning darling. How are you this beautiful spring day?”

Papa yawned, approaching the others.

“Mm, a bit groggy. Nothing a cup of coffee wouldn’t fix.” He was about to give his partner a peck before he took notice of their guest.

“Oh, Too-ticky! Oh that's right, Moomin…”

Mama placed a calming hand on her lover’s shoulder.

“No worries, Papa. He’s left before the sun and he’s well on his way. You should proud.”

He smiled, finally giving her a proper good morning kiss.

“Of course I am Mama, what Papa wouldn’t be proud of their son?’

Too-ticky smiled before gasping softly.

"Oh. Moomin Papa! I hate to bother you just as you’ve woken up, but-”

Papa blinked at the other.

“Whatever’s the matter?’

◆ ◆ ◆

Snufkin set a small pile of firewood down a few feet away from his tent. Arranging them appropriately to make a small campfire. He sat himself down at the entrance of his tent, his eyes glancing over to Moomin house.

"Hmm, I wonder if Moomin is awake…”

He questioned softly to the air around him, reaching into his pocket for his harmonica. He came up short, realizing that he had been leaving it with Moomin for the past couple of winters.

He instead reached for his pipe, tapping it on the grass to clean it of its old tobacco.

He reached for his pack, rifling around until he found a small folded up bundle of leather, he unwrapped it and began to stuff his pipe. Before he could light it he heard voices.

He turned and saw Too-ticky walking down the path from Moomin house with Moomin Papa in tow.

He placed the pipe between his lips, the end making a small ‘click’ as he gently bit down around it. He stuffed the match back into his pocket before getting up and walking over to the bridge to meet the other two.

“Oh. Hello Snufkin! Welcome back!” Moomin Papa called out.

Snufkin gave a small wave as he approached, removing the pipe from his mouth.

“And a good morning to you, Moomin Papa! Has Too-ticky told you about the bridge?” He followed along the bank as The other two stood aside to look over the damage.

“Oh, my-” The elder Moomin huffed softly. “Not as bad as I had imagined, but it still needs to be fixed.”

The troll looked over to the young man.

“You’ll be able to help us won’t you, my lad?” With a brisk nod, Snufkin silently agreed, allowing Papa to relax.

“Too-ticky? There’s a rather large wooden board that was left over from the housing repairs we did last summer. I believe it should be big enough to make a temporary bridge while we do the repairs. It’s leaning against the house by the cellar door if you’d be so kind as to bring it.”

Too-ticky nodded and hurried back to the house to retrieve it. Moomin Papa turned his attention back to the young vagabond, their eyes meeting in a respectful gaze.

“How are you, Snufkin? It’s good to see you’ve returned safely. Will you be kind enough to join us for breakfast?”

Snufkin chuckled, appreciating the warm welcome. “I’d love nothing more, Papa.”

◆ ◆ ◆

It took Too-ticky no time at all to carry over the wooden board.

With help from Snufkin, they managed to lay it steady among the grass, the makeshift bridge allowing Snufkin to cross over with ease.

“Perfect.” Moomin Papa reveled in his craftiness.

“Now then.” He turned to Too-ticky. “I don’t suppose you’d like to stay for breakfast as well Too-ticky? As always we’ve plenty of room at our table.”

“I’d love to Papa, but I must be getting back. Mymble will have gotten up by now. I’m sure We’ll have a lovely breakfast with her cooking.” Moomin Papa nodded.

“Oh, Snufkin-” The blonde turned to the young man, pulling out a small parcel from her pocket. “Here, before I forget.”

Snufkin removed his pipe once again, eyeing the package curiously.

“What’s this, Too-ticky?” He reached out his hand.

She placed it in his palm, Snufkin taking it carefully. It felt rather weighted for something so small.

Moomin Papa watched in anticipation, Too-ticky speaking up once again.

“This is my last task. I’ve been asked to deliver this to you before I went home.” She smiled and nodded to The two gentlemen.

“I’ll be seeing you both, I’m sure My and Floren will come by for a visit as well. Happy spring~” She happily sang as she began her trek home, leaving the two alone.

“Come along Snufkin, we can have some coffee and talk a while. I’m sure breakfast will be ready soon.” The elder patted the boy’s shoulder.

They walked up the path, Snufkin turning the parcel in his hand.

It was small but heavy, wrapped up neatly in a thick brown parchment and held together with a bit of twine. The most peculiar thing about it was that it was not signed. He…had an inkling of who it could be from, But-

“Something’s missing"

He whispered as he came to a complete stop at the foot of the steps, Moomin Papa already at the door before noticing the other’s pause.

"I’m sorry, Snufkin. Did you say something?” The question lined with concern as he studied the other’s body language.

“Moomin Papa…“ The young man started. "Is Moomin awake?”

Papa smiled knowingly. “From what I gather, he is.”

Another pause.

“Papa…”

The troll lifted a hand, the action causing Snufkin to grow silent once more.

“Come in when you’re ready. Breakfast and coffee will be waiting for you.”

The other’s words were soft and disarming. Snufkin watched as the other entered the home. His eyes landing back onto the package.

He turned and settled himself on the steps, his hand reaching for the once forgotten match. He strikes it and lights his pipe before extinguishing it.

He gives a few long puffs before letting the smoke seep slowly from his mouth.

He lifts the package up, gently pulling at the twine. It unravels easily with a small tug. He unfolds the parchment, his eyes growing wide at the sight of its contents.

“My Harmonica…?” He lifts the small instrument in, the metal warming his fingers slightly.

He examines the parcel once more, discovering a folded up correspondence within the parchment. He sets the harmonica down in his lap before removing the folded note. There’s only one page, but the letter was packed with neatly written words.

“Snufkin.

I hope this letter finds you well. By now you’ll have reached Moomin Valley and settled in for the year.

Things have changed this year, though, by now you’ll have probably figured this out.

I won’t be there to spend summer with you this time around, old friend. By the time you read this I’m sure I’ll have made it farther than I have ever traveled on my own. I’ve thought about this for a while…even as we spent time together last year.

I thought it was time for me to go out and see things for myself.”

Snufkin pulled in a long drag as he read the letter, the smoke trickling out of his nose.

“I know this all might be a bit shocking. Or, maybe you already knew that something like this would happen? You’re funny like that, always…knowing but not? I hope that makes sense…anyway.

Inside this letter will be your Harmonica. As I promised, I looked after it while you were gone, playing it as I thought of you through the short winter days. Will, you play it when you think of me?“

The boy let out a short puff of air, amused by the words.

"I hope you have a wonderful summer with everyone in MoominValley this year. May you catch all the fish you could ever want and be well.

I’ll see you come the fall season.

Your friend, Moomin.”

“Fall”

He read the word several times before setting the note aside, removing the pipe from his mouth.

He sat a while longer, the aftermath of his travel “Home” finally laying heavy in his legs. He took a deep breath, the smell of coffee and tobacco mixing together in the most pleasant way.

He was tired.

[kristallioness]

2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019

*arrives a month late*... Happy 2021 to all of you, my dear followers! *raises a glass* It seems that my tendency to finish my artwork or personal posts on time has only gotten worse over time (I blame work *lol*). Oh well, better late than never, since there are things I would still like to take with me from this extraordinary year of 2020.

It is cringeworthy that I have two huge red X-s this year. But after I'd put these puzzle pieces together, I remembered far too well what was going on in my (work) life at the time, so it's completely understandable why I didn't have the time nor the energy to draw at all during those two months.

What were those typical statistics that I wrote about again to compare the years? *goes to read last year's post*.. Oh, right! In 2020, I managed to finish 3 full digital drawings (from the months of April, July and December) as well as work on several sketches. I wrote 28,154 words worth of fanfiction (oohh, that's a lot better than previous year), plus 3,126 words in English (I dare say I wrote an equal amount in Estonian) for the prompts I got during UYLD (making the total 31,280 words, which is quite impressive!).

I finished reading the 1st Kyoshi novel in the evening of the 20th and slightly past midnight on the 21st December (barely before the holidays, but I set this goal for myself and I did it!). Am already looking forward to starting with the 2nd part some time this year. Besides that, I ordered and received all the other new Avatar books that came out (3rd part of "Ruins of the Empire", "Katara and the Pirate's Silver", "Legacy of the Fire Nation") as well as BOTH Avatar series DVD sets (I still can't believe I found these on sale on some random online store in Estonia, but these are now among my most prized possessions!).

I finally started my Avatar rewatch last January, but merely got to the Ba Sing Se episodes in Book 2 (I need to continue with "The Earth King") and now it's been 5 YEARS since I last saw Korra. Reading through my journal personal posts from last year, I know far too well that it's not about rushing through it as fast as possible. Instead, I should enjoy the ride and continue watching the episodes when I'm well rested and in the right mood. That way I'll end up feeling much more at peace.

As for the entire year as a whole? I don't think anyone in this world of ours was prepared for the way this decade would begin - with an uncontrollable pandemic, the virus of which is randomly attacking and threatening to wipe out the weakest amongst us. If any of you (or even if you know someone who) have lost a loved one to this plague, there is not much else I can offer but my sincerest condolences! Me, my family, friends and colleagues seem to have managed to avoid catching it so far. *spits 3 x over her shoulder*

I had such high hopes for this year in so many ways. Event-wise I was looking forward to watching the Eurovision Song Contest in May (where Uku Suviste was supposed to represent Estonia for the 1st time ever after so many unfortunate failures to get selected as the winner of our local competition), the European Football Championships in June (asking my colleagues which countries they support, perhaps make fun bets / guesses with them to see whose team would win the matches), the Tokyo Olympic Games in July-August, the President of Estonia (Mrs. Kersti Kaljulaid) coming to visit my hometown to celebrate our Victory Day by taking part in the parade together with the Defence Forces (after 15 years *sigh*)...

I will always remember my last big event, which took place when life used to be "normal", so to say. It was the 102nd anniversary of Estonia on the 24th of February, when I took part of all the most important celebrations in Tallinn on our Independence Day, FULL-TIME (whenever I scroll through my Facebook timeline, I see the photos I uploaded of that day, my heart melts and I smile fondly). But the day after that.. utter hell broke loose. We had our first infected person in the country.

I will also remember the last day I went to work in "normal" conditions. Friday, the 13th of March (typically my lucky day-number combination): I missed the tram I wanted to get on in the morning, at work my team received great news that one of our colleague's family had grown bigger by a new tiny member the day before, we had our last team lunch together, we discussed the safety measures that we should take and joked about what might happen next week, I took the bus home instead of the tram (as the tram's route came from the airport and that place was considered to be more dangerous and with a higher risk of catching this virus).. It was another 2.5 weeks later by then (since the 25th of February) - Estonia (along with the rest of Europe) went into full lockdown.

The beginning was frightening and people were on edge, nobody really knew what to do nor what was gonna happen next. But in time, things began to shake into place and everybody developed a comfortable routine for remote work, including figuring out how to get everyday things done (such as grocery shopping). I found solace in taking photographs of various beautiful bird species, who began to fly around and serenaded me during spring, visiting the trees around my "nest" i.e. rented apartment (with a pair of them ACTUALLY building a nest in the chestnut tree right beside my window, thus turning me into a protective godmother of their chicks).

To be honest, I was awestruck by the positive / surprising aftermath of this lockdown: how the world / environment began to heal itself from the pollution that was normally caused by humans. I was taken aback by how dead silent our usually loud capital became in my neighbourhood (I could only hear trams passing by my house according to their schedules, practically no cars whatsoever, streets were empty of people.. absolute silence).

By May-June, things started to look up in Estonia (as well as the rest of Europe) and people were allowed to start travelling / moving around more freely. During my vacation in July, I managed to go to my last (open air) event (for the rest of the year) under these new "corona" conditions and ended up having a blast at the Open Farm Days in my home county for the first time.

Our country's shining moment came during the first week of September, when we hosted the first ever Rally Estonia of the World Rally Championship (WRC), where our very own Ott Tänak and Martin Järveoja won. The event was so well organized and successful that nobody caught the virus nor did the spectators / participants spread it to others, which surely must've helped in ensuring us a spot in the WRC calendar for 2021 as well.

The remainder of the year was rather dull, with the exception of the US Presidential elections in November, when we were all holding our breaths that Joe Biden would win (congratulations, my American friends!). This eventually led to the painful downfall of THE WORST government the Republic of Estonia has ever had, and to the rise of our first female Prime Minister, Kaja Kallas (both happening in January 2021, I couldn't believe it all spiralled so soon, ha-ha!).

Anyways, during the last 4 months, work was very stressful and driving me nuts, so badly that when I eventually went on vacation before Christmas, I had a slight anxiety disorder that wouldn't let me relax for several days (luckily it went away just as quickly once I began to take it easy and managed to get some proper rest / sleep).

In hindsight, I kind of get this weird feeling as if I saw this whole thing coming, given how actively I was living my life throughout 2019. My final year of the 2010's was so full of important events and personal achievements. It's almost as if something mysterious inside was driving me, telling me to visit all the places and do all the things I wanted to do, cause I wouldn't have this sort of a chance again for a very long time.

This must be the main reason why I am thankful for 2020 for going the way it did. Sure, I'm disappointed that a lot of events were cancelled, that so many people have had to leave this world so soon due to this unpredictable disease.. But I think there are so many lessons to take from what came out of all of this. I believe the world needed some sort of a restart or break, given in what direction we were headed (politically, economically, environmentally, socially etc.). I'm just sorry it's had to come with such a high price of innocent lives.

I have even higher hopes for 2021, given how amazingly January has already passed for me and my country, and what is to come in my hometown in February. Let's take the lessons learned from 2020 with us and keep on heading back towards the "normal" lifestyle we used to know. Except this time, let's improve our ways, put all the hatred behind us, be more considerate, keep a distance, stay safe, but still try to make the world a better place for everyone. Thank you so much for reading, for remaining by my side, and for your support and love throughout the years, my friends! I hope to see you all alive and healthy at the end of the white metal ox year of 2021! *virtual hugs*

[popculturebuffet]

Prince of Wishful Thinking: A Tom Lucitor Retrospective and Character Study: Part 1: Firey Little Shit

Star Vs the Forces of Evil is a .. complicated subject for me. When it started it was somewhat hit and miss but the premise was intresting: Star Butterfly is a magical princess, having just got her families ancestral wand.. and a few days later, or a jumpcut in the actual episode later materials revealed the actual time span, sets everything on fire and is sent to earth. There she meets best friend and, to my delight that eventually turned into “OH GOD JUST END THIS WILL THEY OR WON’T THEY SHIT ALREADY” I haven’t seen since the likes of Ross and Rachel that warrants it’s own damn article, and gets into various shenanigans while battling a gang of “monsters”, a general term for most non-mewmans  on Mewni, lead by a spoiled king, Ludo, who wants the wand. 

Things got turned on their head quickly, as “Mewnipendance Day’ revealed that the Mewmans (Humans in all but name really) took mewni by force, using magic to cast the monsters into poverty, which as the series and “Magic Book of Spells” would reveal, caused a cycle of death and bloodshed with no defendants. It changed the show for the better, as the plot, while heavy handed is a necessary one given these prejduice filled times we live in and how well it’s crafted. And it’s into the show slowly coming into it’s own a new character was introduced: He had been announced by the crew in the show’s press junket was in the title but took most of season 1 to show up... and he’d end up being one of the sho’ws saving graces as it dived into bullshit and go through one of the most through character arcs of the show. HIs name was Tom Lucitor, Star’s obsessive demon Ex-Boyfriend, and this is his story.

THE MAGIC BOOK OF SPELLS

Before we get there though, we have to take at rip down side material mountain... this time to the Magical Book of Spells. The Book of Spells was a real life verison of a book we’d seen in the show itself that recorded the previous queens of Mewni’s spells and held Glossarcyk, a magical being who assited the queens throughout the decades. The real version was used to tell each of the Queens, even the three we see on screen’s stories.. star included. As such it not only gives us some, if sadly not enough, more of his actual relationship with star pre-series, but also the full background on his kingdom’s relationship with hers. See while the Butterflies control the majority of mewni, their Kingdom isn’t endless and there are half a dozen others, most of which aren’t really that fleshed out. But The Lucitor’s are somewhat of an exception: The Lucitors rule the underworld, basically Mewni’s hell where all sorts of skeletons, demons and ghouls exist. You know funny little ghouls. 

I had to. Anyways the Lucitor kingdom also has Mewmans, due to some demons kidnapping a bunch years ago. Whoops.

Despite you know, kidnapping a bunch of their people, the Lucitors and Butterflies ended up close allies. This is thanks to the efforts of Mewni’s ambassador, Jushtin who was supposed to be Mewni’s first King to wield the wand... but his mom was pressured into having a sister. Said sister Solaria, to not mince words, was a genocidal monster who slowly descended into madness and tried to kill all monsters declaring outright war on them, but things were tense at first and they needed allies. So the Lucitors, along with the Cloud Kingdom of the Pony Heads which are exactly what they sound like, helped turn the tide. So things were cool for a few decades, and then we get to the reign of Rhina the Riddled. Rhina, who the book all but says is aromantic and likely asexual as well, was shoved into an arranged marriage with John Roachely, a second cousin who had no impact on the Lucitor side of the Genepool whatsoever and thus Star and Tom aren’t really related at all. I bring this up only because if I don’t tackle the incest allegations, someone will try and use that against me. I’d say i’m being paranoid but i’ve seen the rabid shippers use far less to attack Tom, so no. Rhina, to make things go smoother, cast a spell to make her love him.... it didn’t work longterm and, to get him to leave her, cast a heart break spell on him.. which LITERALLY broke his heart, and thus she was left a widow and the demons were not happy about her you know, whoopsie daisy murdering one of them likely set up with her a bridge between both sides and soured things for a while. Now you may all be asking: “Kay, intresting.. but what’s all this game of thrones but with flying pony heads, so better game of thrones, stuff gotta do with tom?” Well wait no more. Luckily for me, Star has a section in the book, and thus she spills the tea on her first metting with Tom. The two met at the Silver Bell Ball, an annual ball where the royalty of Mewni gather and the princes and princesses all dance once each as a good will gesture. The reason I went through the Rhina stuff is I’m guessing Star, who attended the ball every year according to the book and likely since at least she was old enough to dance, didn’t meet Tom earlier because his parents hadn’t been on good enough terms to bring him till he was 13, and River and Moon, Star’s parents, had succeeded in winning them over. The book nor the series dosen’t outright say this but given what we see later and what we have, it’s what i’m going with. We’ll get more into Tom’s personality when we get to his first in series appearance, but being a charming young man, and the first person her age at the ball Star found remotely attractive, they quickly set up a date for the boardwalk in the underworld for Cornshakes, because Mewni loves corn as much as I love Galarian Meowth. He looks so adorably homeless. But naturally if a snowball can’t last in hell, a shake can’t either, but even melted corn can’t ruin their good time and Tom even buys star a gift. I bring this up because said gift is star’s signiture devil horn headband. (Though Star is quick to announce she isn’t one of those annoying people who comes back from a trip thinking their a local). A real steal too at 14.99 or your second born’s soul. Most demons go for the first born, it’s a classy change of pace. The two eventually end up making it official, and star even gets a helpful pamphelt about Demons’ love of mascera, their anger and their tendency to tell their mom’s everything... the latter two will actually be really important as we go. But due to Tom’s anger as we’ll find out, the two end up breaking up and frustratingly we don’t learn the exacts just star was sad.. and that said depression lead to said kingdom distruction and the rest of the series. And since I covered the premise of the series above we can basically scoot right onto Tom’s first apperance.

BLOOD MOON BALL

Before this ep, Tom made a small cameo in another ep when her magic mirror, basically portrayed as working as a person sized video phone, accidently called him when she said call Mom. As a nice little bit of foreshadowing Tom flew into a rage at her preparing to hang up on him , even though it was a wrong number and they’d been broken up for a few   months at this point. But it’d be an agonizing wait for Tom. I was curious about the character, given not much had been revealed, I missed the episode with his cameo, and the animatic for BMB’s first scene was released months before the episode came out and was really funny and intresting. Said scene has Tom making one hell of an entrance, landing from the sky in a cool carriage with a skeletal horse, floating in and catching eyes and floating up to Star’s desk in class to ask her out with the moon.

Star.. has no interest and shoves tom, hilarious as while they just cut to the front of school, she had to have been mildly shoving him all the way from her class up a hallway, and outside. And passing Jackie, marco’s crush I bring up because why not and Janna, Star’s future close friend who we’ll get to more later, since he did earlier and they now have to go from oggling tom to wondering what the hell their seeing. She also tells him to take his dead horse back, which leads to one of my faviorite gags of the series  as said horse says “Wait, I was dead” and later, mid conversation about her going to said Ball, randomly interjects with “why didn’t you tell me I was dead?” That poor poor horse. You should come live with me. I don’t have a car, I could use a skeletal horse and I would tell you if you were dead man. Hit me up. But Tom tries to convince star he’s changed, he’s got an anger managment bunny, a counselor Brian (voiced by my guy Stephen Root, who you may better know as the voice of Bill Dautrive, the mayor in Amphibia or Bud Gleeful), and he’s doing fine.. then Marco goes and Karate chops his hand off, thinkign he was a danger. Tom gets really angry, to Star’s horror, which tells me she saw this sort of thing a LOT: tom getting this level of pissed at someone and likely leveling either them or everything around them. Thankfully Brian calms him down and Star introduces them and Tom , like the gentleman he is , gives her a bell to take her to the ball and time to think. Star, impressed by him calming down and trying, takes him up on it over Marco’s objections and worries about her safety, including the amasingly radar busting line “Never go with a predator to a second location” and the dance is on. As it turned out, Tom toned things down, ,less death and murder and more prom, to try and impress her and is annoyed when Star turns down his corsage.. which is a live spider. Which i’m generous to her on because spiders scare the shit out of me unless their pokemon. Seriously look at this sweetheart:

Who could be terrified of that face? Such a sweetie. Anyways, Tom is angry about it and his anger only increases when he wants to dunk himself and star in unicorn blood.. because while on earth dumping blood on someone makes them go on a psychic rampage you brought on yourselves, in the underworld is just a teen dance thing. But since one of Star’s best friend is a unicorn, something Tom has no excuse for not knowing as Pony is close to her and a princess in her own right and he had to have met her in his months dating star, and gets pissy over.. and star catches him having to pet his therapy bunny over it and walks off annoyed to get some punch.

And it’s with this Tom’s problems become apparent: He has charm, grace.. but he isn’t really TRYING to change, nor does he see WHY Star hates his anger. Sure he has a counsler, he has coping mechanisms things that would actually HELP him get better.. if he WANTED to. He dosen’t want to control his temper, he dosen’t want to get better he just wants Star back, and that’s why it’s not working: He’s making an effort, but it’s for the wrong reasons and without trying to tackle the root of his issues. He’s just trying to take the easiest way out, which is a problem that will crop up again next time. His second one is easier to illustrate when his plan becomes clear: turns out there’s a magical binding curse thing, it was clarified more in Season 4 but I feel no reason to leave it vauge here, and tom wants to bind his and Star’s souls together forever. He later admits he assumed she knew about that going in.. but it still dosen’t excuse his actions entirely and brings us to that flaw I was building towards: He’s selfish. He changed the ball to impress star, he shoved a corsage on her she didn’t one, got ANGRY, visably angry, at her turning down something he shoudl’ve known just by having dated her before would be a non-starter and worst of all he wanted to bind her to him forever without asking, just assuming she agreed by going. Star can be selfish at this stage too, especially this early on.. but underneath it she cares about people, even if she sometimes goes about it in the same fashion tom does here, she comes from a good place. Really both of this seems to come from them being royalty: both have had privlage their entire life and been insulated from a lot of things.. and Tom being raised in an environment where anger is normal and he gets whatever he wants from two loving parents and an army of servants, probably meant he never HAD to think of anyone else and as the series goes on, never had any friends except a Dog that we never see and probably sadly died. My theroy is Little Lord Fooleroy got ran over by Deatruk, the truck what runs over people, but i’m stupid like that. This winds up costing Tom his soul binding thing as Marco in disguise, being goaded by.. something that’s never remotely explained seriously what exactly the fuck was that creepy deep voice to crash the ball, ends up dancing with her. Shippers squeed, this was probably used in a jillion AMV’s.. and Tom naturally is pissssseeeed and ready to flambe Marco... until star takes him out with zero effort. They go home, Star berates Marco for not trusting her , end of episode.. oh and they speak in unison for a quick gag but i’m sure that won’t be important. As you can probably see her Tom was origianlly supposed to be a recurring pain in the backside for our heroes, showing up to win back Star, pull some “Nice Guy” Crap and then get his ass kicked most likely.. but after the end of Season 1, it was a fairly short season, the writers for whatever reason, and for the better decided to have Tom slowly change a bit.. but since him becoming a better person would be abrubt he has to do one lass dickhole thing first...

MR CANDLE CARES

And now we’ve come to Tom’s worst act, the thing that had he not fixed it the way he had at the end, made him an outright villain. Star and Marco have meetings with the new guidance counselor, who gives eveyrone else great career trajectories but for Star and Marco? Star gets a rather overbearing lecture on how she has to be queen when she grows up and probably shoudln’t date Marco and should be picking a future husband, ewwww, and Marco gets the unitetinonally, given Tom probably knows only about enough about earth to concot this scheme, offensive career path as janitor.. for an honor roll student with a bunch of extracurriculars. Yeah but Tom’s accidental racisim aside, while what he did to Marco was petty , what he’s trying to do to Star is creepy, basically using someone else to gaslight her into trying to get back together with him. But as noted above, Tom is selfish and as I haven’t noted yet he lacks some empathy.. so instead his advice sends Star spiraling not helped by her mother, Moon, basically telling her she has no choice in being queen and being happy dosen’t matter.. because Moon was kind of a dick at this stage. So while star gets a punk makeover and prepares to do something terrible to prevent her miserable future, Marco decides to confront candle and, as I didn’t even try to hide, Tom is behind this. Granted Tom wasn’t great at hiding it either, it’s just star was understandably concerned about her future and too distracted by that to pick up on how weirdly intrested Mr.Candle was in her dating life. But no i’ts Tom who is, and Marco baits him by pretending he and star are “Smooch Buddies”.. something the trailers for Season 2, and this episode was pretty early, used as a bait and switch, but I’m okay with it as most could probably tell something was up by the delivery. Naturally this proves to be a terrible idea, and i’d say it’s the dumbest thing Marco ever did if Season 3 didn’t take a sledgehammer to his character, but that’s an essay for another day, and Tom takes Marco back to his place to murder him... but Marco stands strong and Tom challenges him to a battle to the death, with Marco choosing ping-poing. Tom naturally destroys him.. but Marco uses the game to point some things out: After calling tom out for bascially cheating, since his powers give him the upper hand, Tom talks about Star doing the same, basically making up her own rules as soon as she looses. Marco then uses this to make tom see what a butt he’s been: The ping pong thing is just another example of how Star functions, doing whatever she wants and going her own way. It’s why being forced down the path of queen scares her so much, it’s responsiblity and rules and no fun as far as she can tell with no benifits. It’s why she rebels so much.. she can’t be told what to do.. which Marco makes Tom realize means he can’t control her, nor would he want to, and that he’s made a huge mistake. Tom forgoes killing Marco, and the two rush to star who’s on the edge of cutting of a mermaid’s tail to prevent her from ever being queen.. but just can’t do it. Star can be selfish, the above cheating shows that.. but she’s a good person deep down. Tom admits what he did.. and throughly apologizes for it, agreeing basically to let Star go and stop trying to force her back with him. Star does punch him for good measure, deservedly so, but they part on good terms and Marco reassures Star when she’s Queen she can rule her way, and they hug.. and notably Tom dosen’t get the least bit upset. Mr.Candle Cares is a good second ep. I’ve made no bones about how this is the worst thing Tom did: The controlling stuff at the ball was just selfish, the blood moon thing while not GREAT was asbent minded selfishness. This... it nearly broke star and ruined her future. However it comes from the same place as Blood Moon and his reaction at the end shows he simply didn’t consider star’s feelings.. and likely realize he HADN’T been. it wasn’t Marco’s fault they weren’t together, it was Tom’. While the Apology is a minor thing, it’s still a step in the right direction. As I said had he NOT backed away here he probably never would’ve gotten better or even if he tried, gone so far in trying to get star back he couldn’t walk it back. Here he hit his lowest point.. but thanks to Marco, he had a chance to turn it around before it was too late and grow as a person. This is where Tom gets compelling: he goes from a spoiled selfish douchey rich kid, to someone who clearly WANTS to be better, but has issue, social and otherwise, that make it an uphill battle. And with that we get to tom’s penultimate apperance for Season 2, and his last full one...

Friendenemies:

Tom shows up again and while Star tries to shoo him off before she has to get the shooing broom, Tom reveals he’s not there for Star but Marco. See he feels bad about you know, trying to kill him twice and wants to take Star’s Marco out tonight he’s gonna show him what he’s all about, he’s gonna get jacked up on some cheap champagne and let the good times all roll out. Marco understandably does not want a night out with a guy who was creepy to his best friend and tried murdering him twice, so Tom uses a bribe: tickets to the Mackie Hand, a martial artist that Marco is a huge fan of, film festival that Marco failed to get tickets to. With some encouragment from Star, who while not wanting to date Tom sees he’s genuinely making an effort, Marco agrees They hang out in Tom’s carriage which goes by tardis logic, if only, and to the creator’s credit, just so, and the two soon bond, finding a shared love of both Mackie Hand and the pop band love sentence, and Marco genuinely earns tom’s respect when some shades wearing piles of smug challenge our heroes, which Tom now counts as at this point, to a race, Marco agrees... then has them do nothing while the idiots speed up and get arrested and we get the blessed image above. The good times get interrupted though when it’s time for the marathon but tom locks him inside. And no this isn’t the start of some angry makeouts, as it turns out this was part of tom’s anger management therapy, but once again his propensity for the easy way out means he fails at it and burns up the tickets.. but Marco is more upset that Tom lied to him and pretended to be his friend and like mackie hand, though the love sentence thing was real> The whole thing plays more like a breakup than the end of a blossming friendship, which ties into how this episode got people shipping Marco and Tom with each other.. and rightfully so. While I don’t really ship it myself, I can see why as it has great chemstry and a great dynamic. Tom’s behavior here is part of why I say he has social issues, something I can relate to as a cave troll living in my mother’s basement: Tom dosen’t seem to have any real friends. Oh sure he can charm people, he has servants, two loving parents, and a screeching grandpa whose on the wall of my own personal heroes along with Ric Flair, My Mother, Stan Lee, Peter David, Rebecca Sugar and many more, but he dosen’t have FRIENDS. Star seems to be his first relationship and the first thing resembling a true friend he had, so while his behavior was a tad creepy it makes sense why he clung to her. And that shows here: He tries superfically bonding with marco, faking an intrest, giving him gifts, partying.. but it’s both forming a genunine connection over something, Love Sentence, and just sharing some memories that ended up making them friends. But yeah after Marco sings a sad pop ballad, or part of one. Tom decides to do a three point grand romantic gesture and raises Mackie Hand from the dead, and when Mackie isn’t allowed into his own film festival he fights the ticket guy and tom and marco watch and while they say they hate each other, the two’s friendship is forged. Marco finally has a friend outside of two doofuses and .. does Janna count? I dunno. She’s less of a friend and more of a gremlin who steals his things constantly while being actual friends with his bestie. Before we close out this leg there’s one final episode for season 2 with Tom in it to cover and dive into: Naysaya.

Naysaya comes literally just before the mid-season finale and Tom sadly disappears for the rest of the season, though he’ll be back and in greater numbers  in Season 3. I’m not covering it full because it’s not a full on tom episode, he only has a short cameo, but he is important to it and his one brief bit shows off his  character. In short Marco is finally asking out Jackie Lynn Thomas, his crush and a great character in her own right who sadly all but vanished from the show shortly into season 3 after something we’ll get to in passing next time, but got some great closure and was revealed to be Pansexual, so good for her. Marco had been building up to this for the last two seasons: first realizing thanks to time shenanigans he never made a move, then actually talking to her, and then not only telling her how he felt but realizing he didn’t know her but he’d like to. So now he’s ready to ask her out but every time he tries, written or spoken, it comes out as his most embarrassing secrets before the little neck tumor man comes out up there and does it for him. Thanks to Janna, local roustabout mentioned above, who after teasing Marco as is her usual response to anything with him, uses her knowledge of the spooky oooky to find out what that thing is: a Naysya, a curse born creature that spills it’s target’s most embarrassing secrets at whoever they try to court. Naturally, given Tom was an insanley jealous ball of asshole until a few episodes ago, it’s his fault though showing his slow growth, while he’s entirely suprised Marco asked no one out since the ball, says the guy who did two schemes and a shenanigan trying ot get star back, he’s also sorry and assumed it’d worn off or he would’ve told him sooner, and tells him how: he has to let all his insecurities out> Marco nearly withdraws over this due to being 90% insecurity, but eventually buckles down and tells jackie every embrassing thing about  him and.. it works. Naysaya leaves and he and Jackie go out on a group date. And with that Tom is gone for a while but he, and this retrospective will be back.  I owe a huge debt of grattitude to @jess-the-vampire​, a dear friend, and wish her a happy belated birthday. She was a willing and helpful resource and worth a follow. And if you want more stuff like this, comics reviews, and what have you, feel free to follow or comisson me. Until next time, keep the home fires burning. 

[badchoicesposts]

Loyalty Or Royalty

Chapter 4

Summary: Mia Bhatt spent years trying to escape her past, trying to escape the feeling of betrayal that was left in her heart after the fire, and she finally had. She was marrying the King of Cordonia and was finally going to get her happily ever after. But, after a momentary lapse in judgement caused her to send a wedding invitation to someone she was sure had forgotten about her, she realizes that sometimes the past has a way of crawling back to you.

Author’s Note: In this fic Anton and The Sons of Earth were caught before the wedding. Also this story will contain flashbacks that will be in italics.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Mia Bhatt), Platonic!Colt x MC, MC x The Mercy Park Crew

Taglist: @flowerpowell​​​​​, @dcbbw​​​​​, @texaskitten30​​​​​, @kingliam2019​​​​, @hopefulmoonobject​​​​, @lovehugsandcandy​​​​, @los-cafeteros​​​​​, @desiree---1986​​ @lovemychoices​​

Catch Up: Masterlist

“You need to learn how to defend yourself. C’mon, punch me,” Colt said, bouncing on the balls of his feet and raising both of his fists up in a fighting stance as he and Mia stood in the alley behind the auto shop. 

“I’m not going to punch you,” Mia said, rolling her eyes at her best friend.

It was the summer before her freshman year of high school, and for some reason Colt had gotten it into his head that she needed to learn how to fight. 

“Punch me,” Colt said, pushing her shoulder aggressively and causing her to take a step back.

“Colt, I don’t want to do this,” she whined, trying to sidestep him. 

However, he stepped in front of her, blocking her way back to the garage and roughly pushing her shoulder again. 

“Make a fist,” he said, pushing her repeatedly.

“Colt, leave me alone!” she said angrily, once again trying to move past him. 

He blocked her path for the second time, and Mia let out an angry yell before reeling her fist back and punching him square on the nose.

“Ow! What the hell, Mellie?” he exclaimed, cupping his hand around his nose.

There was blood streaking down his face, and as much as Mia wanted to feel bad about it, she couldn’t help but let a laugh out instead. 

“You wanted me to punch you,” she said, her voice laced with amusement as she massaged her now aching knuckles. 

She moved around him and stalked back into the garage, Colt trailing behind her and grumbling softly. The two of them made their way into the breakroom where Teppei and one of his drivers were speaking in hushed tones.

“What happened here?” Teppei asked as Mia walked over to the fridge, grabbing a few ice cubes and wrapping them in a kitchen towel. 

“Colt told me to punch him and I said no. But, then he kept asking me, so I punched him,” Mia said, holding back a smile as she swatted Colt’s hand away from his face and placed the ice on his nose. 

He winced at the feeling, and she held back an amused smirk as Teppei took in the scene. The man’s own mouth was turned up into a smirk as well as his eyes looked back and forth between Colt’s bleeding nose and Mia’s now bruising knuckles. 

“I think you broke it,” Colt complained as she continued to ice his injury. 

“You told me to!” Mia said back, the two of them dissolving into an argument that was promptly broken up by the sound of Teppei’s slow laughter. 

“Next time, don’t underestimate her, son,” he said, causing Mia to smile. 

~~~

“He hates me,” Mia ranted as she took a swig of rum from the bottle in her hand. 

She had just about tired herself out walking back and forth across the length of the room, but she still couldn’t stop pacing.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Leo tried to calm her down. “He just needs some time to process the fact that you were a badass growing up, and he was boring.”

“But, I wasn’t a badass!” she exclaimed. “I never actually did anything illegal. I just never turned the rest of them in!”

“Yeah, she was such a total goody two shoes,” Mona said, taking a swig of red wine straight from the bottle before passing it over to Olivia.

It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but after retelling their story, it was evident that they could all use something to take the edge off.

“He hates me, and now he’s going to divorce me,” she began rambling. 

“Mia,” Toby called her name, but she continued pacing not listening to him.

“He hates me, and he’s going to divorce me, and now I’m never going to be happy ever again because I’m never going to get over him. How am I supposed to? He’s perfect and amazing and kind and sweet, but of course, I had to screw it up because I’m an idiot. I’m a big, dumb idiot,” she continued her words coming out in a messy jumble. 

“Mia?” Liam’s voice broke through, causing her to jump in surprise. “Can we talk?”

Mia nodded and silently debated whether or not she should bring the rum with her, but soon decided against it and shoved the bottle into Colt’s hands before following Liam out of the room. She felt almost like a scared child as she followed him through the estate and to their bedroom. Liam led her out onto their balcony, and she looked up at him nervously. 

“Do you hate me?” she asked quietly.

Liam let out a soft sigh and moved to stand in front of her, taking one of her hands in his. 

“I don’t hate you, and I’m not going to divorce you, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Last night you said there was nothing I could say to make you stop loving me. Is that still true?” she asked, not sure if she wanted the answer or not. 

“Of course, it is. But, you should have told me about this a long time ago,” he said.

“Would it have made you change your mind about wanting to marry me?” 

Liam remained silent for a moment, and Mia felt her heart drop. 

“Oh my god! Do you regret marrying me?” 

“No! No, of course I don’t regret marrying you,” Liam said, a guilty look on his face when he saw the tears in her eyes. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

Liam pulled Mia into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

“So, what now?” she questioned. 

“Mia, your best friend tried to kill a group of police officers,” Liam said, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “This is crazy.”

“Trust me, I know. But, I need you to believe me when I tell you that Colt isn’t a killer. He’s been there for me my whole life, and he’s one of the best people I know,” she said. 

“How can you say that after what he tried to do?” Liam asked. 

She could tell that he wasn’t trying to attack her, he just genuinely wanted to know. Mia pulled herself out of his arms and pulled Liam down next to her onto one of the chairs they had on the balcony. 

“I can say that because of how well I know him. When I was growing up, Colt was the one person who always made me feel okay. He was always there to support me when I was sad, and when I was scared he always knew what I needed to make me feel better. When I needed a place to escape to, he and his father were always there for me. Teppei taught me how to drive cars, and Colt taught me how to drive motorcycles.”

“Growing up I always felt like there was something wrong with me because I was always so sad all the time, and I didn’t have any friends. But, when I was with Colt I wasn���t that weird girl that was always covered in bruises and didn’t talk to anyone. I was just Mellie, and I was happy. That’s why it hurt so bad when he left and never got in contact with me. I know this probably sounds like bullshit to you, but I know he’s not a killer. He was scared and cornered, but he’s not a murderer. I know it’s a fucked up situation and way of thinking about all of this, but I judge Colt based on the memories I have with him. I’m not saying that excuses the things that he’s done, but I’ve seen the good in him,” she said, tracing patterns on the palm of Liam’s hand as she spoke.

“I guess I can understand that,” Liam said, letting out a sigh. “My father was no saint, and he’s done his own share of terrible things, but at the end of the day he’s still my father.”

“Colt can be a hard person to get to know, but he’s a great guy,” she said. “I think the two of you could get along if you gave it a chance. He’s actually a bit like Drake in that sense.”

“Yeah, minus the willingness to murder,” Liam said, causing her to laugh. 

“Yeah, minus that.”

“I’m still not one hundred percent sure that I’m okay with this, but if it’s that important to you, then I’d like to try getting to know him,” Liam said, giving her a soft smile. 

“Thank you,” Mia said, getting up from her chair and settling into his lap. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Liam mumbled, pulling her into a gentle kiss. 

Mia melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as his went around her waist. 

“Can you forgive me for not telling you sooner?” she asked hesitantly, running her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I understand why you were struggling with it. But, I don’t want you to keep anything else from me,” he said, pushing one of her curls behind her ear and stroking her cheek with his thumb. 

“That’s a reasonable request,” she said with a smile, pressing another kiss to his lips.  

After one last kiss the couple left the safety of their room and went back down to meet their friends. 

“Hey, you two. Everything okay?” Annya said, giving them a kind smile. 

“Everything’s fine,” Liam said, returning the gesture. 

“No, it’s not fine. Not yet, anyway,” Mia said, her mind starting to reel upon seeing Colt again. She took a seat next to him and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “There’s still one more thing. One more thing that I need to know. Why now? It’s been seven years, Colt. Why show up now?” 

“I got your wedding invitation,” Colt said, shrugging passively. 

However, he refused to make eye contact with her and that was his tell. He was never the type of person to shy away from confrontation. He had no trouble looking someone square in the eyes and speaking his mind freely. 

“You’re lying. Please, just tell me the truth,” she said tiredly, her voice desperate. 

Colt let out a dejected sigh and reached into his jacket pocket, handing her an envelope. The address to the P.O. box was on the front of the envelope, but there was no return address to indicate who or where it came from. Mia opened the envelope and pulled out the slip of white paper inside of it. There was an address scrawled on it in black ink, a Cordonian address. She furrowed her brows in confusion. She knew that handwriting. She had seen it countless times growing up.

“What is this?” she asked, her eyes widening in shock. 

“I found it in the P.O. box the day I got your wedding invitation. At first, I thought you had sent it, but then I looked at the handwriting,” Colt said, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“No, that’s not possible. It has to be some kind of mistake or weird coincidence,” she said, handing it back to him and retrieving the bottle of rum she was drinking from earlier to take a gulp of the brown liquid. 

“It can’t be a coincidence,” Colt said urgently, getting up and walking over to her. “I’ve been checking that P.O. box every few months for the past seven years. I’ve gotten all of the cards and letters you sent over the years, but you were always the only one to send me anything. It was always you until this. You know just as well as I do that this is his handwriting.” 

“He’s dead, Colt! It can’t be his handwriting!” she said, grabbing the note out of his hand and looking at it once again. 

“Mellie, I think Pop is still alive,” Colt said.

“No! That’s crazy! You guys said he got blown up!” she screamed, looking over to the rest of the crew for help. 

Everyone was just staring at the two of them in shock, no one moving a muscle.

“Think about it. The three of us were the only ones who knew the address to that P.O. box. It has to be him,” Colt said. 

“So, that’s why you came. Not because of me, but because you think your dad is here,” she said, angrily crossing her arms over her chest. 

She was hurt all over again. She was angry with him for staying away for so long, and now the only reason he was here was because he had some crazy idea that his dad was in Cordonia. To Mia it felt like he had just confirmed that she meant nothing to him. 

“No! I’m here because of you. We both are,” Colt said, grabbing a hold of her arm and forcing her to look at him. 

“What do you mean you both are?” she asked. 

“The day after the fire and everything at the casino, I went to the bank to see what he had in his safety deposit box. I figured it was only a matter of time before the cops came after me, and I needed to see if he had anything useful there, anything valuable before they started monitoring his accounts and property. I found this,” Colt said, pulling two more pieces of paper out of his pocket. 

“How big are your pockets?” Mia asked, grabbing the items from him and turning them over to see that they were pictures.

The first one was of her, Colt, and Teppei. She was no more than five years old, which meant that Colt was about seven. She was resting on top of Teppei’s shoulders, holding onto the sides of his head, and the man had one hand wrapped around her leg which was dangling against his chest. Colt was hugging his father’s leg tightly, and Teppei had his other hand resting on his son’s back. They were all smiling widely at the camera. They all looked so happy. 

The second picture was of Mia as a baby. She was wrapped in a small white blanket, and someone was holding her. You could only see the person’s hands in the picture, but it was obvious that it was Kaneko. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his MPC tattoo was visible on his arm. 

“So your dad’s known me since I was a baby. We already knew that,” she scoffed, handing him back the pictures.

“Oh my god,” Annya gasped, getting up to approach the two of them.

She rested her hand on the side of Mia’s face and looked at her closely before turning to her son. The two shared a knowing look, and Mia saw tears well up in the older woman’s eyes. 

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Mia demanded, looking at the two of them expectantly. 

“You really haven’t figured it out? Why do you think Pop was always so nice to you?” Colt asked. 

“Because he felt bad for me?” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“He wasn’t the type to pity people. But, he was always different with you. He always took care of you. If you wanted something he didn’t hesitate to give it to you. You probably didn’t notice because it was usually something small like ordering your favorite takeout for dinner. Or, if it was more expensive, a lot of the time he tried to pass it off as something you needed, like a car to get you back and forth to school or a laptop so you could do your homework. I used to get jealous when we were kids because I thought he liked you better than me,” Colt said softly, looking down at his feet in embarrassment.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get at. Can you just say what you need to say?” Mia asked. 

Ellie walked up to them and handed Mia one more piece of paper. 

“I found this at the bank too,” Colt finished, looking intently at her face as she read over the document. 

“Is this my birth certificate? I’ve never seen it before,” she said, reading over it curiously. 

She scanned the document with a smile, reading over the county, city, and hospital name. However, her chest began tightening as she looked over to the section where her parents’ names were located. Her mouth went dry as she read out the name of her father. 

“Teppei Kaneko.”