#//Won’t stop her from arrogantly acting like she’s the best though

[oceanxveiined]

At her very core, she is the very definition of “jack of all trades, master of none”. She has a acquired a multitude of skills—dance, inventing, song, penmanship and composition, combat, strategy, and investigation, among others—but there is always someone within the Snake Eyes group who will always surpass her in some regard. So why does Ozzy keep her around?

Well, if there’s something she has above everyone else, it’s her tenacity and her daring

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Already dating

Word count: 1618

Genre: Probably fluff, idk really

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: could you maybe write something with Natasha x male reader (if your comfortable, otherwise you can write it with female or gender neutral) where Natasha blushes when the reader compliments her in front of the team and the team immediately goes crazy and does everything in their power to get them together, only to find out they've been dating all along?

Summary: Steve and Tony (mostly Tony) lock you in an elevator to admit your feelings, not knowing you’re already together.

A/n: Thanks @mochamoff for the request, sorry it took so long to do it! I’m writing this authors note over a week before I’m posting the fic which is unusual because usually I post within twenty four hours of finishing. Anyways it feels nice to be on a break and this fic being posted means I’m officially back which I’m excited for. To be honest this fic isn’t the whole team, just Tony and Steve, but I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out so I hope you all enjoy reading!

“Next time you have to listen to me in the field Stark.” Steve says as soon as everyone is settled into their place on the jet.

“Actually I don’t, you have absolutely no power over me and as much as you want to be the leader of this team you are not so stop acting like it.” Tony snaps back.

“Someone has to step up and lead.” Steve tells him. “It’s not like you could do any better, you would probably mess things up.”

“Maybe I would, but I would do a hell of a lot better than you are doing.” Tony says. “You like to pretend you’re all high and good and above us but who made you leader? Nobody. You crave control so you took it.”

“I did what needed to be done.”

You watch them snap back and forth at one another a few more times, rolling your eyes at Natasha. She gives you a small smile to show that she’s amused and turns her attention back to your two teammates whose argument has only gotten more and more heated.

“Y/n what do you think?” Tony asks, catching you off guard.

“About what?”

“About who would be a better leader for the team.” he explains. You think for a moment and they both stand as tall as possible (in Tony’s case it isn’t tall at all) and puff out their chests. You scoff, the male ego is so big, even in men who are good and try to do the right thing.

“Neither.” you decide.

“Neither- but the team needs a leader, you have to pick someone.” Tony splutters.

“Just because I don’t think the best leader is either of you doesn’t mean I don’t think the team needs a leader.” you tell him. How one of the smartest people in the world can’t figure that out for himself is beyond you.

“So who would you choose then?” Steve asks, confused.

“Natasha obviously.” you say, smiling at her. The corners of her mouth tug up slightly and even that small movement makes you feel proud.

“No offense, but Natasha???” Tony asks, seemingly outraged. “Why?”

“Well first of all she doesn’t have a fragile male ego like you dumbasses.” you tell them. “But it’s more than just that. She’s smart, both book smart and street smart. She can hack into computers and memorize information easily and knows how to blend in, or to get people to like her. She is more rational than the both of you combined but is also good at making decisions on the fly. She is an excellent fighter and can keep track of strategies and she has connections in and out of the government, with backup plans for almost every situation. Not to mention she has an amazing heart and don’t argue like some other people on our team tend to do. And of course she’s absolutely gorgeous but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

You wink at her at the end of your mini speech and are surprised to find her cheeks noticeably pink. She can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face when she thinks over your words.

“Abort mission, Romanoff is blushing and smiling, I think I might be about to die.” Tony states obnoxiously.

“Shut up, you’re just annoyed that she likes me better than you.” Natasha tells him, taking a breath to (mostly) collect herself.

“You’re scary when you’re happy. I haven’t seen you like that before.” he says. “Are you in love with Y/n or something?”

“Shut up.”

Tony smirks. “Make me.”

Natasha takes one threatening step towards him and that’s all it takes for him to back away, stuttering out apologies and mumbling under his breath about how Natasha is too scary to be a team leader. Natasha’s scare tactics do seem to work though because he doesn’t speak to anybody but himself for the rest of the ride home.

As soon as the jet touches down you and Natasha exit, heading straight to the room where you are supposed to be debriefed. Steve tries to follow but Tony grabs his arm to let him know to hold back a second.

“I know I joke but I honestly think they’re in love with each other.” Tony tells him. “I didn’t see it before today but there’s no way Y/n’s speech was platonic, who memorizes lists of reasons why they like their friends, not to mention their flirty wink at the end. And then Natasha, she’s scary but she was acting weird and happy around Y/n.”

“I hate to say this but I agree with you and they would make a cute couple.” Steve says. “But we should probably catch up now.”

Tony takes Steve’s words as an opportunity to stop being serious and become obnoxious again. “Onward dear captain, lead the way fearsome leader, how ever could I-”

“Tony I’m trying to be polite but you are making it very hard.”

---

“Tony no.”

“Tony yes.”

“That is a horrible idea.”

Tony opens his mouth in outrage. “I think it’s a pretty good idea actually.”

“I won’t work.” Steve counters.

“Well I think it well and need I’m the only genius here.” he says smugly.

“You can’t force love!” Steve tells Tony, running his hand through his hair in frustration.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tony says, “I’m not forcing love, they are already in love. All I’m doing is giving them a little push.”

“By locking them in an elevator?” Steve asks in a deadpan voice.

“Exactly.”

“You can’t just go around locking people-” Steve starts to say but he gets cut off by Tony.

“Shhhhhhh, hi Y/n, hi Natasha.”

“Hi guys, what are you up to?” you ask, obvious to what was going on seconds before you entered the room. Natasha eyes them suspiciously because they are acting weird, holding their bodies stiffly, which means they are hiding something.

“We were just about to head down to the training room, want to come?” Tony lies smoothly while Steve shakes his head in the background.

“That sounds good,” you reply, “you want Tasha?”

“Okay.” she agrees, still eyeing both of them, Tony in particular suspiciously.

“Great!” Tony says and starts to walk towards the elevator and the rest of you follow him, Steve trying to convince himself that going along with Tony’s plan is doing no harm.

“Ladies first.” he says, stepping off to the side and giving a big flourish with his arm. It’s weird but then again Tony is always weird so you don’t think too much of it, stepping into the elevator. As soon as Natasha follows you in he orders Jarvis to close and lock the doors and to prevent the elevator from moving and then pulling up a screen so he can watch you.

“You better run when I get out of here!” Natasha yells. “You too Steve!”

“You’re going to thank me later.” Tony says. “Steve, why don’t you explain why we locked them in.”

“Um,” Steve hesitates, not knowing where to start, “well we think that you two need to talk about, um, feelings.”

“Feelings?” you ask, confused, while realization dawns over Natasha’s face.

“Um, yeah feelings.” Steve responds, feeling very awkward and hoping this works so he didn’t do all that for nothing.

“They don’t know we’re dating and they’re trying to get us together.” Natasha leans over and whispers in your ear before straightening back up and talking to Tony again. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic Stark.”

“What? I’m not- romantic me? Pepper says I’m the least romantic guy she’s ever been with.” he splutters, trying to regain his masculinity.

“And that is not a compliment.” you tell him. “But for some reason even though ‘you aren’t romantic’ you wanted to get us together.”

“Maybe I did,” he says. “but you have to admit that my plan is amazing and it's totally working.”

Natasha snorts “What part of this conversation screams working to you?”

“Well you haven’t killed Y/n yet and neither of you have denied your feelings so it’s obviously working. I expect a thank you speech dedicated to me at your wedding.” He says arrogantly.

“There will be no speech.” Natasha tells him.

“But there will be a wedding?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Steve has to look away because it looks ridiculous.

“Hopefully.” you say, teasing Tony with your vagueness but also making Natasha smile as she thinks about what that might be like.

“Told you my plan would work.” Tony brags to Steve before telling Jarvis to release you from the elevator.

“Your plan sucked.” Natasha tells him. “We were already dating dumbasses.”

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room as Steve and Tony stare after you, shocked.

“Did you know about this?” Tony asks, looking at Steve with suspicion.

“Not at all.” Steve answers, his mouth still half open. In hindsight it should have been obvious. Of course Natasha wouldn’t want to be open about her dating life right away, she likes her secrets way too much.

---

“You owe me fifty bucks Y/n.” Natasha tells you once you’re out of earshot.

“Seriously?” you whine.

“You said they already knew but they didn't, so pay up.” She holds her hand outwards expectantly and you both laugh.

“Later.” you tell her. “There are more important things to do now.”

“Hmm, like what?” she teases gently, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches because you still can’t believe you are dating someone this beautiful. You match her halfway and pull her into a deep kiss, only pulling back when you need to breath.

“This.”

---

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[tvdiaries-imagines]

Old Flame: Pt. 17

Warnings: Cursing, tobacco use

Word Count: 4694 (the longest chapter so far!)

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

-

“WHERE IS SHE?!” 

Klaus roared throughout the courtyard, furious that you are nowhere to be found after you successfully snapped his neck. The moon was out the last time he’s seen you but waking up, the moon had disappeared and now it’s daylight. He usually wouldn’t have woken up this late from a simple snapped neck, but you took a page out of his book and stuck a vile of vervain in his system after successfully finding his vervain collection.

Hayley and Jackson were across the way on the second floor, having a quiet chat beside the railing. “Who?” Hayley asked, puzzled.

“Y/N!” Klaus shouted, fuming as he’s glancing around the vicinity.

Kol stepped out of one of the rooms on the second floor after hearing a frantic original. Hayley and Jackson stepped inside the nearest room, figuring Kol could handle Klaus. “I thought she was with you, Nik?” Kol brought up.

“Apparently, she said she was fine last night.” Klaus raced towards his brother who sauntered inside the bedroom he’s occupying during his stay. “Then she snapped my bloody neck and disappeared with the stake.” He retrieved his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed your number. After a couple rings, he nearly cursed after being sent to voicemail. It wasn’t a surprise to him since almost every time you’re in a dire situation, your phone is never answered. But, Klaus figured he’d try. 

“What happened to her when I left to speak to Esther?” Klaus asked, jaw clenched. 

“If I tell you, give me your word that you won’t be cross with me.” Kol eyed him anxiously. 

“What did you do?” Klaus muttered in an alarming tone.

“All I did for Y/N was a favor. I had no control of how she’d react.”

“Spit it out, brother. What is it?”

“She was worried about her friend, Kai Parker.” Kol answered. “Figured Esther was behind it, so she requested I find out. Turns out, mother sent him to a prison world and there’s no fixing it.”

“And that’s the reason for her lunacy?” The hybrid’s nostrils flared in aggravation.

“It is.” 

“Good riddance. I don’t know what Y/N sees in that imbecile.” Irritation pricked at him.

To add even more stress, an angry Finn Mikaelson immediately walked in, magically breaking one of the vases on the table. “Where is she?”

“Finn, please, join us.” Klaus said with blatant mockery. 

“Don’t make me ask again.” Finn sneered. 

“I assume you’re referring to our mother. Fear not, she’s tucked away somewhere perfectly safe.” Klaus added. “You’ll never find her.”

“You think you’ve won. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts, brother.” Finn glared at his brothers before turning around and marching away with heavy steps.

Klaus tried reaching you again but was sent to voicemail. That alone ticked him off and he was close to throwing his cell phone at the brick wall. 

“I’m going to find Y/N. You’re coming with me, Kol.” Klaus made his way out of the bedroom in lengthy steps.

“Oh, splendid.” Kol responded back, trailing behind his brother.

Reaching the courtyard, there were a handful of Hayley’s wolf allies and Marcel’s group of vamps gathered together. Klaus is aware that it’s Hayley and Marcel’s attempt for them to make a truce for the bigger picture.

“Klaus, stop!” Hayley blurted, Klaus and Kol stopped in their tracks.

“Finn spelled all of the exits. We can’t leave.” Marcel added.

Klaus put a palm up at eye view, slowly reaching out until his skin sizzled against the spelled blockade, letting out a faint groan from the affliction. He threw his healing hand down to his side and shifted his view to his youngest brother, expression hardened. “Fantastic.” Klaus muttered sarcastically.

(Meanwhile…)

After disappearing into the night, you booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. You’re aware that Klaus has plenty of connections, so you assured that you didn’t put a card on file in case he traces it. Instead, you compelled the staff to allow you to stay for free. You even took extra precautions and showed them a photo of Klaus so that if he ever steps foot into the Ritz-Carlton, they’ll notify you right away.

Having your humanity off so far has been dandy because you had no care in the world. If you were your normal self, there’s no doubt that you would be following Klaus around like a lost puppy during one of his missions and the thought made you sick to your stomach right now.

You woke up this afternoon to your suite nearly trashed from the little party you decided to throw last night because you gathered a handful of good looking people from bourbon street and plenty of liquor to keep you inebriated throughout the night. A man and a woman stayed overnight, thanks to your compulsion. You knew you’d be famished this afternoon and fresh blood ultimately did the trick for you. 

After an incredible shower and devouring your sinful snacks, you compelled your victims to bandage up their wrists and be on their way. Housekeeping began tidying up your suite after you made your way out.

Though your craving for blood is fulfilled, you desired a hot bowl of gumbo, so you threw on your sunglasses and trekked through the quarter, crossing your fingers that your pesky beau isn’t looking high and low for you in the area. Your heels clicked along the cement, wearing your best black dress sitting pretty just above your knees.

Gumbo Shop was what you decided on and the friendly host sat you down at a table inside, farthest away from the windows. She did as expected by leaving a menu with you and handing you off to a server.

Within the hour, all of your cravings are satisfied so you left a generous tip for your server and went on your merry way. You weren’t sure what you planned to do next, so you allowed the city to decide for you. A street performer captured your attention so you stopped to observe. 

Out of the blue, you spot Finn Mikaelson nearly walking past you in a rush. “Hi Finn. Why are you always so glum?” You teased, brow raised. He put a halt to his steps, hands behind his back. He wore a dark suit, the jacket fully unbuttoned.

“No use in going home anytime soon, dear Y/N.” He implied arrogantly. “Nobody can get in or out, thanks to my spell.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but alright.” In the blink of an eye, Finn strolled away. “Change of plans I guess.” You smirked.

(Later…)

Entering through the gates of the compound, you discovered over a dozen people in the courtyard. It seemed like they were not enjoying themselves whatsoever. There were a few familiar faces as well, including Marcel, Josh and Hayley. You wondered if Klaus or Kol managed to get trapped here as well since they weren’t in the space from what you can see. Your presence seemed to catch everyone’s attention though.

“Don’t you all look cozy.” Your haughty tone was obvious. 

“Y/N wait!” Marcel alerted. “Don’t take another step. Finn put up a boundary spell.”

“Thanks for the heads up Marcel. But I already knew that. I bumped into Finn earlier.” 

“But you came anyway?” Marcel raised a brow in suspicion. 

You shrugged your shoulders in response, leaning against the wall close enough to the invisible barrier. Once everyone else besides Marcel realized that you were no help in freeing them, they were no longer interested in your presence and went back to sulking.

“Ah I see.” He came to a realization. “You’re here to gloat. Why?”

“There you are.” Klaus appeared from the shadows. His edge of irritation returned and drew a scowl over his face.

“Here I am.” You were feeling exceptionally smug. While examining your fingernails, you planned to get a manicure after this foolish conversation.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

You showed uninterest without any eye contact as you pulled a cigarette and lighter from your purse. You placed the toxic stick in between your lips, lighting the end of it and taking a puff effortlessly as if you’ve always been a smoker. Klaus glared at your repulsive act.

“I’ve been around.” You responded after exhaling, finally making eye contact with the hybrid.

“Care to explain why you felt it was necessary to render me unconscious for hours on end and then scurry off to god knows where.” With a brisk elevator look, he motioned a nagging hand at you. Klaus was displeased with your outfit choice without him there to claw the eyes out of every man that looks at you with hungry eyes.

He almost asked you about the whereabouts of the white oak stake, but he remembered that there are ears around that he doesn’t trust. 

“The thought of having to explain to you bores me.” You fake yawned. “So I don’t think I will.” 

“Something’s different about her, Nik.” Kol added, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m aware. Her humanity must be off.” Klaus made his way closer towards you, stopping as close to the barrier as he could. You stepped over to be face to face with him, sniggering.

“There ya go.” You snorted in amusement, the toxic stick weighing at your sides, carelessly flicking off the ash on the grounds of the compound. “You really aren’t the dumbest Mikaelson, Nik.” Klaus ignored your unnecessary comment, his firing eyes following the cigarette going from your mouth to your sides.

Kol began sauntering over to his brother, standing side by side. “Oh sister. Your humanity, eh?” He shook his head in disappointment, arms folded across his chest. “I thought you were bigger than this.”

You dropped the half finished cigarette on the concrete by your feet, crushing the butt with the ball of your stiletto. “My favorite Mikaelson brother is disappointed in me.” Your hand flew to your chest, fake pouting. “I’m crushed. I really am.” 

“Stop this nonsense immediately, Y/N.” Klaus said, a scowl strewn across his face. 

“Or what?”

“Do not test me.”

“Well last time I checked, you’re trapped in there while I’m free out here. So joke’s on you, my love.” You teased. 

A sinister chuckle left Klaus’s mouth. “You shut off your humanity for whom? A useless dullard.” You stared at the ceiling, placing your hands at your hips. “Out of all the choices Esther has made in life, I’d say that sending Sir Malachai Parker back to the prison world was the best one.” He grinned, hoping to have hit a nerve to get your humanity back. “It pleases me knowing that he will be stuck there for all eternity. All alone.” He chose his words carefully and perfectly. 

Suddenly, your hands fell and your blank eyes set onto Klaus’s, unmoving. By your reaction, there was a glimmer of a chance that it worked. You grasped both of the Mikaelsons’ undivided attention. 

“Nice try.” You cocked your head to your side, your once unreadable expression is now evidently complacent and it boiled Klaus’s blood. His hands clenched at his sides as he’s trying to hide his defeat from you. Kol just simply sighed at their defeat, aware that it was a longshot anyways. “I’m bored. Bye boys.” Without a care in the world, you turned on your heel and departed the compound.

Once you were out of sight, Kol turned to face his brother who was still looking at the spot you were once standing at, unable to mutter any words. “Nik?” Kol murmured, careful not to overwhelm him.

After a beat, Klaus continued to ignore his brother and vacated the spot where he stood. He made his way towards a vacant section of the compound. Kol followed behind him. 

Before Klaus could touch the handle of one of the doors on the first floor, Kol attempted to acquire his attention for the second time. “Brother?” Klaus puts a halt to his long strides, taking a deep breath.

In the blink of an eye, he vamp speeds to Kol, barely leaving any space in between the two as his murderous eyes bore into Kol’s. “Don’t.” Klaus warned through clenched teeth. That dangerous tone itself informed Kol to leave him alone in the meantime. And just like that, Klaus swung the door open and violently slammed it behind him, causing a few of the other vampires and wolves to flinch. 

Your mani and pedi finished in an hour. You began scouring the quarter for inspiration on what other shenanigans to get into again. After walking in and out of a few gift shops along the way and stopping to tip some of the street performers, you finally stumbled upon bourbon street.

Normally you’d throw your money at the bartenders in one of the many jazz clubs, however, house music blared through one of the other clubs and it instantaneously called your name. Males and females in their 20s occupied this loud space, yet, you didn’t mind one bit because they’re of your age compared to your 1000 year old lover with anger issues.

Dancing and mingling with these fine people made your current cold heart wish that Camille was here to join you. But you wouldn’t dare risk having her call Klaus or Kol and informing them of your whereabouts. Who knows, you might end up snapping her neck dead for doing so and you didn’t care to waste your energy. Marcel and Josh could be trusted not to tell a soul, however, they’re trapped in the compound.

You released your sharp teeth from a poor soul’s neck on the dance floor undiscovered. The warmth of her blood brought you satisfaction. “Go wipe that up in the restroom.” You compelled her and she walked off like a zombie.

(Meanwhile…)

The longer time passed with the magical barrier being up, the more Marcel and his vamps’s hunger grew for blood. It wasn’t looking good for Kol and the werewolves. They were practically walking blood bags.

To make matters worse, Klaus’s patience started running out. He needed to get to you before you caused any havoc or came to any harm. This is the first time you’ve ever turned your humanity off so he has no idea what to expect. The feeling made him sick to his stomach. Not to mention, the white oak stake can be anywhere but he trusts you’re smart enough to have it hidden somewhere good.

The entirety of the barrier will not diminish until nightfall and they couldn’t wait that long. But to their luck, it’s a miracle that Davina fancied Kol. She received a phone call from him, needing her assistance for a spell to lift the barrier and she put whatever she was doing on hold to come to his aid. 

They were almost certain that the spell would work. However, being that Finn is channeling something extremely powerful, they were only to be given 60 seconds for the barrier to be down. The plan was to have the wolves, Kol and Klaus exit the vicinity. 

Davina and Kol now stood face to face with the invisible barrier in between, palms as close to touching as it would allow them. Small, lighted candles lined up in front of the witches and a circle of salt surrounded them as they continued muttering their spell to one another.

Due to the spell taking its course, all of the vampires needed to resort to cowering in the shadows until after Kol and Davina’s spell die out. Klaus and the wolves were allowed to wait beside the barrier. 

A gust of wind abruptly flew through Kol and Davina, causing the candles to blow out and some of the salt to scatter. They exchanged smiles and were relieved to have the chance to touch palms. 

“Okay, Jack. Now!” Hayley announced.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jackson didn’t hesitate to rush his pack out of there, guiding them towards the exit along with Hayley.

“Remember, 60 seconds!” Kol reminded them. He was eager for the werewolves to egress and then he followed suit. 

But before Kol could take another step, Klaus dashed to him, holding him by the shoulder. “Slight change of plans, brother.” In a trice, he threw Kol in the air until he landed about 50 feet away, grunting in pain. “I no longer have to treat you like anything but the treacherous liar you truly are.” The hybrid spat. Davina’s neck snapped to him, bewildered. 

“What the bloody hell?” Kol gradually sat up, feeling just as confused as Davina.

“Where is she?” Klaus questioned, vampires eyeing his brother hungrily while they still waited in the shadows.

“Please, they’ll kill him!” Davina pleaded.  

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he betrayed our sister.”

“What will Y/N think?!” She added.

 “Not to worry about my beloved’s opinions of Kol’s predicament. Let’s just say, she’s not herself today.” Klaus replied to Davina before returning his attention to the mischievous Mikaelson, who now rose to his feet. “Rebekah never made it to her new body, did she? Seeing as how you casted the spell, and well, you’re you. I’d hardly call it an uncrackable case.”

“Rebekah’s fine, Nik. It was a prank.” Kol quicked marched towards his older brother. “Nothing more than what you lot have done to me.” He pointed a nagging finger. “But I guess it’s different when it’s one-” The magical blockade was up and running again and its wrath burned Kol’s pale hand, causing him to reel backwards and hiss in pain.

“Barrier’s back up.” Klaus flickered his eyes at the ravenous vampires coming out of the shadows. “And those vampires look oh so hungry.” 

Kol grew anxious as the vampires made their way to him like a predator ready to take down its prey. Davina’s eyes began to well up in tears, yearning to come to Kol’s aid.

“I was willing to welcome you back into my home, but you had to return to your selfish petty jealousies.” Klaus said. “Well, let’s see how they help you survive when you’re stuck in there!” He stormed off towards the exit without the thought of a glance. He felt no remorse whatsoever for his little brother.

(Meanwhile…)

The sun began to set and it was no secret that you look damned good in the tight dress and towering heels. A handful of men even offered to pay for your drinks and you obviously obliged although you could’ve easily compelled them to. This made your job much easier. 

Since you were pretty buzzed and in an amazing mood, you allowed one of the pathetic men to dance with you, only being allowed to touch your arms or your waist. 

Due to the substantial amount of liquor in his system, his confidence was at an all time high and he attempted to lean in for a kiss. You snorted at his juvenile gesture and turned the other cheek. “N-Nice try. Fun’s over.” 

“Oh come on.” He insisted. As you were about to free yourself of his hold, he tightened his grip on your waist and it caught you off guard. Little does he know that you aren’t human, so you prepared yourself to use your vampire strength to free yourself. You smirked, allowing him this minor moment before you stripped it away from him. 

The drunkard fool leaned forward once again to press his lips onto yours while his hands stroked your waist. You rolled your eyes, snickering as you seized his wrists. “I said-” In a flash, he was thrown across the dancefloor but it wasn’t because of you. Some of the clubbers' attention were focused on what just happened and others acted like nothing happened. Before he could think to stand to his feet, one of the sizable bouncers roughly brought him to his feet to begin dragging him out. 

Everything happened so fast and you focused your view to the only person standing beside you to your left. Klaus Mikaelson. “Oh fuck you, Nik.” You grimaced at your inessential savior, your heels rapidly clicking off of the dance floor towards the exit. As much as you wished to vamp speed away, you were smart enough not to do it in the public eye. Humanity off or not.

Instead of hiding off in an alley, you stayed put by the entrance of the club where passersby can clearly see you, leaning against one of the brick walls. You searched through your small purse until you found a cigarette and lighter, but as you were about to light it, rough fingers pulled it out of your mouth. 

Klaus didn’t mutter a word, but you can tell by the expression on his face and his body language that he was seething inwardly. You were revelling in the moment. “I’m a vampire. I can’t get lung cancer, idiot.”  You scoffed at him. As much as you want to try to light another cigarette, you know that Klaus is just going to toss it. 

“We’re going.” He grabbed a hold of your bare upper arm, signaling to follow him or suffer the consequences. You shook his grip off, unphased by it. 

“You’re hilarious.” You said, keeping your feet planted to the ground. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m serious, love. This isn’t a game. Let’s go.” Klaus remarked, towering over you. 

You peered up at him through your lashes, shooting daggers. “Did you forget? I don’t fucking care. Now leave me alone.” You shot him a glare and attempted to walk past him, but he stepped to the side as a wall.

“You out of all people know what I am capable of.” Klaus started. “And yet, you are determined to incur my wrath.” 

“Your wrath?” You snorted. “Okay then, show me. Right here, right now. In front of all of these people.” Klaus took a peep over your head, unmoving. You hummed in amusement. “I thought so.” 

You wasted no time and began trekking down bourbon street’s sidewalk, unsure of where you are headed as long as it’s away from Klaus. You freed your cell phone from your purse and began endlessly scrolling through social media, ensuring not to bump into anyone coming your way.

To your misfortune, Klaus materialized beside you, walking on the outside of the sidewalk.  “Oh, you’re still here.” You said dryly, eyes never leaving the screen. 

“In what world is this heretic worth your humanity?” He asked, disgusted. His eyes flickered from straight ahead to you. 

“My world, apparently.” 

“You know, you have people that could have helped you. There’s Stefan, Damon, Kol.” One by one, Klaus counted up to three fingers in the air before going back to relaxing his hand at his side. “Even Rebekah, if it weren’t for Kol’s foolish prank.” 

“Good to know, Nik.”

He gazed at you, swallowing before speaking. “You also had me.” 

“I can see that since you keep following me.” You finally peeled your eyes from your phone, throwing it back in your purse, raising your chin up at Klaus. He briskly narrowed his eyes, not allowing your cold response to get to him.

“Oh come now, sweetheart. Let’s not make this difficult for the both of us.”

“You’re making it difficult for yourself.” You waved an airy hand. “Now shoo, you’re killing the vibe.” 

“Alright then, Y/N. I’ve been far more patient with you.” Klaus creeped up behind you and swiftly cracked your spine so that you were comatose. Then, he scooped you into his arms so that he held you bridal style. 

To his luck, his swift, yet flawless gesture didn’t get a second look from anyone in the crowd. It seemed as if you were absurdly tipsy and he prevented you from falling to your knees. He felt a pang of relief and his tense shoulders relaxed knowing he can safely bring you home.

(Later…)

Finn’s barrier spell throughout the Mikaelson compound is now nonexistent. It is dead silent and the only two souls occupying this vast structure are you and the original hybrid for now. Your limp, unconscious body is tied to a wooden chair including your wrists and your ankles. 

Klaus has been pacing for the past few minutes, conjuring up different plans to mentally bring back the woman he loves, instead of this facade of a nightmare that is taking over. And hell, if it weren’t for your humanity switch, he would revel in tearing that dress off of you and making love to you until the sunrise. 

The sudden sound of your groaning put a halt to his steps. He watched as your head steadily moved up and you cracked your neck. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your surroundings which appears to be one of the many rooms in this godforsaken building. You raised a brow at your lover who is standing merely a few feet away just ahead of you. “This doesn’t look like the Ritz-Carlton.” You said in your head. 

“It would be impolite if I didn’t ask how your catnap was.” Klaus commented, wearing a shit eating grin.

“It was fantastic.” You returned his cocky expression with a flashing smile of your own.

“Now that I have you where you can’t simply walk off, let’s get to business then, shall we?” Klaus took amble strides towards you and kneeled until he was at eye level with you. “This will only take a second.” He noted, voice low enough for only the two of you to hear. 

As soon as his irises stared into yours, you turned your chin to the right, but Klaus was quick to seize your jaw with his strong fingers, shifting your view back to him. You knew exactly what his intentions were at that very moment. 

He’s going to compel you. 

The location of the white oak stake is still unknown to him and since he is closer to getting you back to your normal self, he’ll finally get the stake back. 

“Get on with it already. I don’t have all day.” You implied. Klaus kept his frustration in check from your moronic remark and went on with what he intended to do.

Your eyes focused on his, observing his pupils fascinatingly growing and shrinking. "You will put an end to this madness and turn it back on.” He released his grasp on your face. 

You blinked twice and your lips parted, chest rising and falling. “Nik.” You paused. “I-” Klaus began freeing one wrist from the bindings.

“What is it?” He asked, concerned.

As soon as one wrist was free, you sneered at him and before he could blink, you tore off the arm of the chair, flipped it over so that the sharp bit pointed out and stabbed Klaus in the neck with it. “Ah!” He called out, face contorting from the unexpected laceration.

Obviously, you could have simply kept playing it off as if your humanity was back so that Klaus frees you of all of the restraints. But, you wanted to poke fun at him instead. Inflicting pain onto Klaus was significantly more gratifying right now.

“You really thought you had me there, didn’t you?” You let out a burst of laughter. Klaus cried out in pain while pulling the stick of wood out of his neck and tossing it to the floor, taking heavy breaths as the gash healed. “Nice try, Nik. But I’ve been drinking vervain as of late. Thanks to Stefan and Damon for the tip.”

Instead of inflicting the pain back to you or snapping your neck to shut you up, Klaus stormed out of the room to overlook the courtyard from the railing. As much as he wanted to rip the railing off from his frustration, he shockingly kept his cool and an idea came to mind. He obtained his cell phone from his pant pocket and dialed a familiar number.

After many rings, his call was answered. 

“Klaus?” The voice on the other line said.

“Hello, old friend.” Klaus grinned, oddly comforted to hear their voice. “I’m in need of a favor.” 

-

A/N: Hope you guys appreciated the longer chapter!! I know the last one had a lot of Y/N x Kol moments, so I gave you guys more of Y/N x Klaus moments in this one. I have to say, it was quite fun writing with Y/N’s humanity off. And it was especially fun writing Klaus’s responses to it lol...Oh and I’m sure you guys can guess who Klaus’s ‘old friend’ is :)

TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14@xdontxcare @seasiren96@anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @agentmarvel13@miss-lumiere@elizabeth-ann1090 @physically-a-cheesecake@azhar1422 @morsmornte @retrocontessa @kollover24 @thewolf-and-thesheep @xoxoaudreymarie @dezzym17@siphonersalvatore @yolobloggers @akshi8278 @simonsaysyasss @eggingamazinglove @brooklymw @baseballbitch116 @hyperion-moonbabe @iamjustaslytherinrose @lillianeh879  @hannahzlee @bokettolove @gangofhoes @sashimi-cat @marvel-ousnesss @deathkat657 @rauwz @star-adorned @bobamilqtea @lunareclipse-e @krazykatkay456 @geeksareunique @hybridgirl99 @romyislief @psychicwinnerstranger @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @derangedcupcake @yaniiie @classyunknownlover @britty443 @mockingjayd12 @ophellis @prospathww @the-specific-oceans @riverdaleserpent04 @bank-of-rubytowne @ballet-royale @sunflowersandsins @fakebeech @alka16555 @allllzcatt-blog @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis @its4everjenny @mikaelson-emma @lilulo-12 @unhappy-hannah @hookedtoherfire @smol-quackson @hxppy-ghxst @ivarthegoddess @nick-1432 @simonsbluee @0moonlightthoughts0 @proudjaden @lalunasuenos @blonddnamedhandz @princekooks @supernatural-swiftie08 @2kayla64 @hernameisnoellex3 @grim91103 @asusualitasterin @un-namedstalker @a-who-e @mother-dearest-loves-me @un-namedstalker @lauren-novak @elijahspersonalwifeyyy @wayward-river​ @random-stupid-stuffs​ @fangirlforever2412​ @girlqrush​ 

[fanmoose12]

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

"There is also a letter for you, sir."

Levi snatched it out of the messenger's fingers, thanking him by a quick, curt nod.

"You may go," he said, waiting for the soldier to leave, so he could read the letter in silence.

Just as he opened it, however, Zeke's face appeared right in front of him, materializing out of thin air.

"Got a love letter, Captain?" he mocked, his eyes glinting. "Or were you popular only once in your life?"

There was a fire right behind Zeke. Levi longed to throw him there. He almost smiled, as he imagined the beast running around with his pants on fire. Watching it would be much more satisfying than simply punching him in a face. Although.... if the beast lost his pants, Levi would be forced to become an unwilling spectator to Zeke walking around half naked. And Levi would rather slit his own throat with a sword.

"Mind your own business, beast," he grumbled, having his fill of arguing with Zeke. The bastard just wanted to get rise out of him anyway. One time Levi had let him. He wouldn't allow Zeke to have another victory. "And get lost. If you won't let me read the letter in peace, I won't let you read at all."

Levi pointedly looked at the book in Zeke's hands. The beast took a staggering step back, cradling the book protectively to his chest.

"Now I see why you weren't popular," he arrogantly scoffed, but left hurriedly before Levi could act on his threat.

When Zeke was a safe distance away, Levi sat down by the fire and opened the letter. The handwriting consisted of small, carefully curved letters. Armin's handwriting.

Levi hesitated to open it. He hoped it wasn't anything urgent. He hoped it wasn't bad news.

But if the things remained just as they were when he left, it could very well be both.

Oh how he hated being away. When he was in a thick of it, at least, he had the illusion of having control.

And right now, the only thing he could control was Zeke. As long as the beast’s and their goals aligned and the beast let Levi control him. And who knew when that was going to change.

It was going to change, Levi was sure of it.

Worry about that later, when the time comes, he told himself, as he shook his head, pushing anxious thoughts to the back of his mind, and finally opened the letter.

Sitting a little closer to fire, he started reading.

Captain Levi!

I hope the messenger brought you everything you needed. If supplies are running low, please tell me so.

I'm sure you want to know what's going on our side. Do not fret, we're holding on. For now. The tensions are still running high, but Commander Pixis is doing a great job of keeping everything under control. Commander Dawk helps plenty too, and together they're working closely with Chief Zacklay to ensure the island's safety.

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to Historia, requesting her to come back. I know she has to care for herself and her future child, but I think... maybe, we can use people's love for the Queen to put an end to their protests. There are more and more people gathering next to our headquarters. I think it’s time for her intervention.

Another matter you should know about is the fate of these Marleyans kids, Gabi Braun and Falco Grace. Unfortunately, they escaped from the prison, but rest assured we're going everything we can to locate them.

Truth be told, I worry about them. It's dangerous for them to walk around the island, while we're in the middle of that mess. Many people don't like Marleyans, so I hope these kids are at least smart enough to not start any trouble. Hange-san told me the very same thing - she worries for Falco and Gabi, but doesn't think they'll do something stupid.

And before you can ask, yes, I've interrogated Hange-san about their escape, she knows nothing. What's more, Jean, Sasha and Connie were with her in the presumptive time of the escape. If you don’t trust her, at least have faith in them.

Well, as I said, we're working on bringing them back.

Oh, and, by the way, Captain, we let Hange-san stay in her old room, just like I told you we would. She praised whoever cleaned it. Don't worry, though, I kept your secret. Hange-san is too smart to be fooled so easily, but, alas, I did my best.

If you need anything, send a letter immediately. Stay alert and keep your wits about you, Captain.

The others are eagerly waiting for your return. Connie and Sasha are doing their best at keeping the headquarters clean. And Mikasa is doing a great job of taking over your duties and training the recruits. Oh, and Moblit-san sends his regards.

I hope you’re holding on. I’m sure you are.

Best wishes, Armin

With a letter still in his hand, Levi stared at the fire, thinking it all over.

Bringing Historia back could help ease the tensions, or… It could make it all even worse. But the Queen’s influence was undeniable, in that regard, Armin was right. She was probably the only one who could get them out of this mess.

And these damned Marleyan brats… Escaping from the prison was not an easy feat. Marleyans had taught them well, it seemed.

Was Hange involved in their trainings as well?

Whether she was or she was not, Levi didn’t believe she had helped them to escape. What for? If someone finds out where they came from, they’d be killed on sight. Hange would never do something so careless. If she truly cared about these kids, and it seemed like she actually did, she’d bargain with Armin and others, ask them to let the kids stay with her.

In her room. That he had cleaned.

He briefly wondered what Hange reaction had been like. Was she surprised? Confused? Touched?

She was most probably enraged, Levi concluded. Pissed off that all of her things weren’t on their places – Levi made sure they weren’t. Maybe, he was too much of a pitiful idiot to throw her shit out, but he knew the other way to get to Hange.

He used to know so many things about Hange.

There had been a time he thought he knew everything. Now he knew better.

***

"Another letter?"

As soon as the messenger left, Zeke was right beside him, his head raised high, as he attempted to take a peak over Levi's shoulder.

Levi swatted him away, too confused by the letter and the large enough package he had received to answer Zeke with the violence he so rightfully deserved.

"Get lost," he just said, blindly reaching behind him to push Zeke away.

"I don't care what you have there," the beast scoffed, lifting his haughty nose even higher. "I just came to ask if there are any letters for me."

Levi looked up at him in surprise, his lips curling up. Letters for Zeke? The notion was so ridiculous he almost started to laugh.

"Do you seriously think there is someone who would write letters to you? Your dear brother is in prison and he isn't allowed to talk even to his friends, and you expect a letter from him?"

In the face of Levi's open mockery, Zeke's eyes darkened. "Eren is not the only who can write to me. From what I've heard, she's not in prison anymore."

Oh, so he was using that card again? Levi wasn't going to succumb to it. He wasn't. Not again.

Still, his fingers gripped the letter more tightly, as he threw a sizzling gaze at the beast.

But. At least, he didn't hit him. Clearly, a progress.

"She is not allowed to write letters either," he revealed. "And letting Hange reside in her old room wasn't my decision."

"Clearly," Zeke nodded, his lips moving upwards. "If it was up to you, she'd be sleeping in your room, isn’t that right, Captain?"

The letter in his hand crumpled as Levi attempted to take a breath and keep himself from latching on the bastard.

But clearly, Zeke wasn’t finished. Clearly, he wanted more of Levi’s rage.

“And, just so you know,” he lowered his voice, as though he was going to tell him a secret. He crouched down to his level too, his hand next to his ear. Levi was too dazed to push him away. “When Hange cares about someone, she always finds a way.”

“Then where is your letter, Zeke?”

There was a beat of silence, the beast’s mouth falling open as he struggled to find his own words. Fucking finally, he managed to get him back.

Reveling in his small victory, Levi pushed past Zeke, heading to his tent.

There, he lighted the candle and put the package down onto a wooden table, sitting down beside it. Deciding to start with the letter, he opened it in a quick, fluid motion. His chest warmed, as he recognized Moblit’s neat, delicate handwriting. He didn’t even notice it, his thoughts too scattered amidst all this mess, but he missed his friend. More than he thought he would.

Captain!

How are you doing? Hope you’re not picking too many fights with our shifter-ally. Remember, we need him alive - at least, until we feed him to someone else. Although, I’m sure you’re keeping it together. You know just how important this is.

As on our end, things are not going all too well. Truthfully, I don’t know how bad it actually is, I have been out of loop lately, but I trust Commanders Pixis and Dawk and our Armin to get us through this.

There are rumors of the Queen getting back, or so Sasha told me. In my opinion, it’s dangerous to let Historia into the city, but, maybe, it really can help ease the tensions. Maybe, if she advises everyone to calm down, protesters will stop shouting under my window. It’s a good thing you aren’t here, Captain, these protesters – Yeagerists, as they started to call themselves, - are absolutely horrible. They’re loud and rowdy, and, honestly, their demands are making me a bit worried.

Maybe, they’re so bold because you aren’t here. I’m sure one deadly look from you and they’d scatter.

I also miss our evening tea parties, you wouldn’t believe it, I know – but I really do, terribly so. I went to the Niccolo’s place recently, tried a new pastry there, you will absolutely love it. I wanted to send it to you, but I was afraid it won’t be as delicious after a long road.

Now, I think it’s time to get to the thing that interests you the most – the package I sent you. I hope you haven’t opened it yet, so let me explain what it is first. I’ve included a few of my sketches in the second part of the letter, so you can get the overall idea of what it is.

In your absence, I’ve started to visit Sq Hange-san more often (I know what you’d say – we can’t trust her and should be more careful around here, but… we’ve been through much together, even if some part of it was a lie. It’s stronger than me. I’m sure you can understand) and we started working together on something new.

I’m not going to lie, working with her after all these years is still exciting to me. She’s just as brilliant as I remember, perhaps even more so, now that she doesn’t have to hide the whole extent of her knowledge.

She critiqued our performance during the Reid on Liberio. I was offended at first, surely, it wasn’t such a disaster. What we did was disastrous, I can’t and won’t deny it, but how we did it? It really was rather a success? Minimal amount of casualties on our side and another shifter, taken away from Marley…

But Hange-san wasn’t nearly as impressed. She said that we could do so much better, if only we improved our equipment.

Of course, I couldn’t refuse her offer to work together again. So, without further ado, here I present to you, Captain – the new uniform of Survey Corps’ soldier. We used some parts of our old uniform and uniforms of Anti-Personnel Control Squad, so now aiming and recharging the gun is a lot easier and carrying thunder spears is more comfortable too.

We haven’t done enough tests on this one yet, and, as of now, we only have a few models (yours is actually the first one we made), but I do think the modified version should be implemented among our ranks.

I’m eager to hear what you think about it, and I’m even more eager to have you back with us.

I’m not the only one who waits for you to come back. One person in particular is interested in your well-being. She doesn’t actually ask, but she always listens carefully. Turns out, reading Hange-san is as easy as it’s always been.

Waiting to hear from you,

Moblit.

Whenever he was expecting to read in Moblit’s letter, that wasn’t it. He half-expected that the package would contain a new type of tea or a warmer blanket. What he did not expect was a new uniform.

That Moblit created with Hange.

He looked at the pages, attached to the letter. Detailed, realistic looking sketches were undoubtedly made by Moblit’s skilled hand. But the crooked, hurried notes could only be written by her.

Staring at these sketches brought back unwanted memories. Nights, spent in the dimly-lit lab, brown eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm and excitement, burning brighter than the candle beside them, the deep, melodic voice enchanting him with one theory after another.

How calm, how content he had felt during these fleeting moments, during these nights he spent next to Hange.

And now the only emotions these memories brought back were pain and shame. She lied, she betrayed, and yet he still couldn’t let these moments go, still held them inside his heart, in the depth of his soul where no one would see them but him.

She lied, she betrayed, and all these moments were fake, but they still were. They happened, and when they did, they brought him an evanescent happiness.

And he was pathetic enough to still treasure them.

With a deep sigh, Levi put the letter down, reaching over for the package.

He took the wrappings off slowly and carefully, despite his eagerness to know what was inside. He didn’t know who made them, who sew the fabric together. It could very well be Moblit, the man was talented in various areas. It could very well be Hange. Despite her messy appearances, she was good with needle and thread, he had learnt it first-hand, when he got injured during expedition and Hange had sewed the skin of his arm quickly and neatly, her touch surprisingly careful and gentle.

When he was done with the wrapping, he took out what was inside. Black pants, black shirt, it looked so different from the old uniform.

He put it on, meticulously checking that every belt and fasting was in its place, zipped and secured. Finished, he stood before the mirror, turning this and that way.

It wasn’t ugly, Levi was sure it was very efficient and he would test it all by himself, when his squad would go to sleep, but he liked the old one better. He felt more comfortable in it, more like himself. More like a Captain of Survey Corps who fought against bloodthirsty titans. But the weapons this uniform was modified for wasn’t made for defeating titans. It was made for defeating humans.

And he still struggled with accepting that new, simple truth.

He couldn’t deny, though, Moblit was right.

Hange was just as brilliant as they all had remembered.

It made him think – albeit, fleetingly – how far would they go, if they had her with them? How far would she have taken them if she was always on their side?

How happy he would be, if she still had been with him?

Pointless brooding, he decided and started to peel off the uniform.

Its efficiency in fighting other humans was doubtless. That’s why Levi hoped he would never have to use it.

***

“Um, Captain, wait a moment, please…” the messenger frowned, scratching his head in confusion, as he stared at the letter in his hands. “It’s not signed, but maybe I’ve lost something…”

His put his arm inside the back pack, rummaging through it. Levi waited for a second, two, ten, twenty… The messenger was still at it. His patience running low, Levi grabbed the unsigned letter. If it was some soldier’s love letter, he’d get it back. But if that was something important…

He opened the letter.

And had his breath caught in his throat, because that— that crooked, hurried handwriting… He could recognize it anywhere.

“I’ll be in my tent,” he announced, his voice shakier than he was comfortable with.

He all but tumbled inside, leaning against the table to keep himself steady. His eyes ran over the letter, taking it all in.

The message was short, fairly simple. But it raised so many questions, filled him with emotions so raw he could choke on them.

Levi,

Something bad is going to happen. Don’t take your eyes off Zeke. Don’t underestimate him.

Be careful. And, please, come back home safely.

It took him but a moment to read it all. But the few words of the letter kept replaying in his mind over and over, making it impossible to fall asleep. Levi mulled it over again and again, trying to find some sense, trying to understand.

He got his first clue the very next day, when the messenger was back again, sweaty and panting.

Chief Zacklay is dead, he said, murdered inside his own office.

And the look Zeke had given him, the long, intent gaze that didn’t waver as Levi had followed after his soldiers to get more details.

That was his second clue.

[sohin-ace]

Jojo Drabble - Trish

※ A story where Trish and you have a make up session.

-----

You were sitting at the living room table with Trish. You two had a very sisterly bond and had been talking about make up and hair ever since you first met and today, you both finally had the occasion to have a quiet moment to make yourselves up.

With make up, tools and accessories laid all upon the dining table, you pampered your very cute pink-haired friend. Bruno was here as well, deciding to stay with your positive and calm company as he did some paper work.

"Are you sure we won't distract you, Capo?" You asked him with concern and he just smiled.

"No it's fine. I don't want to isolate myself while I work. And people doing their make up is somehow very satisfying to watch." He commented as he sorted his papers, more than ready to get it done and over with.

After a little while of doing each other's hair, you eventually got to your most favourite part of the makeover.

"Okay, done with primer, now... Foundation." You softly spoke and proceeded to apply the product on her face under Bruno's occasional glances.

"What I do usually is, when I'm done blending the foundation, I take a clean damp sponge," You took a sponge that you prepared before hand, acting upon your own instructions. "And I dab it gently on the zones where I get cakey the most."

Just as you said, you gently patted her small and attentive face with the sponge. "Around the mouth, sides of the nose, between the eyebrows, under the eyes, just like this..." you mumbled softly. "That way the sponge drinks up the excess and you won't get patchy throughout the day. I love this technique."

"It kinda feels good. Pat pat pat pat pat~." Trish commented sweetly as you carefully dabbed her face, gently holding her chin for easier work.

You giggled at her cuteness and Bruno bit back a grin at your interraction. He loved to see how you girls acted behind closed doors and how you two were like the family you deserved but didn't have.

Neither Bruno nor Trish would tell you this, but they loved to hear your soft tutoring voice in the silence and to be fair, Bruno would love to be pampered as well some day.

He might ask you later.

The room was silent aside from your occasionnal talking and the sounds of you picking up and putting down tools and brushes on the table. It was very relaxing to Bruno, especially when you girls talked down very softly, airy voices reaching him as he filled his reports, commenting and joking around adorably.

Sometimes he couldn't even understand what you were talking about, or didn't even listen, but just hearing you sweeties was enough to put him at ease. He might just start doing paperwork around you two from now on. It felt much more motivating.

"Okay, now. Don't move..."

Trish stood still as you held her face and carefully traced her eyeliner. Bruno had stopped working to look up at you in anticipation, suddenly intrigued.

He didn't know much about girls' secrets and intimacy since he never grew up around a lot of women, or frequented many, so seeing this was fascinating to him and he couldn't help himself but ponder.

That must be terribly difficult, he thought. You were so incredibly precise and delicate for this fine task, it was like seeing a surgeon at work.

You hovered above Trish, tilting her head back against the seat for stability and your strokes were akin to a painter's. You looked as beautiful when focused as Trish was when closed-eyed.

Were average girls this talented and meticulous? Or were you just that amazing? He was impressed, to say the least.

"Oohhh I did it! I usually suck with eyeliner, I'm so happy. Okay, okay! Now uh... for the lashes... Oh~ this mascara will be great, this one has sparkles in it."

"Wait, what mascara is this?" The rose-head gasped at the beautiful golden and sparkling tube you held.

"It's the..." You took the tube and stared at the reference, squinting at the name. "Volume Million De Cils from L'Oréal. It does wonders."

"Wow! Also, nice accent!" She giggled at you as you striked a pose in pride.

"Merci beaucoup~ Even though you speak the best French of all the gang."

"I beg to differ." Bruno interjected, his eyes not leaving his papers as you two chuckled.

"Oh," You raised one eyebrow at his subtle bragging, "Well, excuuuse me sir. Did Mr. Polnareff praise your skills?"

"Absolutely." He confirmed confidently.

Trish covered her mouth with small hands as she laughed, Bruno smirking and pretending he was too busy writing reports to hear you mocking him and his attitude.

"What are you brats doing? What a mess." Abbachio came up from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand and sat down at the table, joining the three of you.

"Make up." Trish mumbled, trying not to move and mess up your handiwork.

He only grunted in response and took a sip, decising to observe you make up the teenager and judge your skills.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He suddenly barked, startling you and Trish as you were about to paint her lips, "That's not how you do it, you dumbass!"

"Huh?" Your eyes twitched, "And how should I do it then, Mr. Make up artist?" You bit back arrogantly at the male.

"Can you please not start?" Bruno huffed, rubbing his temples to prevent the headache he was sure to get if you all started screaming. You and Abbachio muttered a quick apology before continuing.

"You're supposed to use a lip liner you dumb fuck. Here, move it." Abbachio got up and carefully chose a lip liner from the stash before harshly grabbing Trish's chin.

"Ow!" Complained the small girl as she was unnecessarily manhandled by this brute.

"Here. Like this." He traced the outlines of her lips with surprising expertise, as if he had done this his entire life, which he probably did. "See? It's not that hard. And only THEN, can you blend the liner with the actual lipstick. It's literally common sense."

"And who are you?! That's MY make up, I do whatever I want!" You slapped his arm and tried to push him away from your stash, all in vain as he remained still as a pillar.

"Shut up. Be grateful I'm giving you lessons. Thank me when your lipstick finally stays for more than an hour and doesn't make you look like you've sucked five dicks in a row or whatever."

"BRUNO, TELL HIM TO LEAVE US ALONE!!" You whined, personnally attacked, and Bruno sighed, his headache rightfully appointed by now.

"Leone, just... Let the girls play..."

And so he did. Thankfully.

[grahamcarmen]

was wondering what it would be like if carmen got her own hideout as a VILE agent

WIP [means i'll probably want to overhaul the whole thing on a later midnight]

Edit: 💀 oh no I copy pasted outta order sonofa-

1410-ish words

“With our current line up? With you?” He said, with a tone of cavalier respect and a nod, so she knew it was a compliment “Sounds like the roster is already full.”l, crossing the white tiled floor to the gold balconies. The transparent white curtains above the open glass doors stirred slightly with the wind, a welcome if small relief to the heat that permeated the air even though it was night.

“An old VILE faculty’s base. A welcoming gift from them. Apparently he had a few of these all around the world. He’d tried to keep a few of them private. They got rid of most of them, had them “cleaned” to avoid evidence.”

Carmen stopped at the entrance, gave an exaggerated flourish of her hand as it left the wall before bringing it near her face. Carmen stared at the dust that had gathered on her fingers. She paused, leaning against the frame, before rubbing her fingers to grind the dust off with a frown.

“But this ones all mine now,” She said.

Gray whistled as he took in the house's size. It almost looked like an amphitheater, the way the semi-circle design did its best to accommodate columns, a double staircase, and tall walls to envelope a second floor only a third the size of the house. The rooms still managed to be vast somehow. Empty too save for a few pieces of aging, if expensive, furniture; some bookshelves, fancy globes, and empty picture frames.

“This place is huge. Faculty money really does go far.” He said in an appreciative tone. He walked to the balcony, leaning over the railing to admire the large pool. Soft lights illuminated the bright green leaves littered on the otherwise clean chlorine blue waters.

He turned to make a remark about how the cleaners were slacking only to notice she hadn’t joined him. She was still trying to grind the dust out of her gloves.

“With a bit of work this place...” He trailed off, looking at the slightly ragged curtains blowing and the expensive tiles.

“Thinking of settling down, Gray?” She replied as she finally looked up, the slight amusement in her voice easing him a little.

“Ha, hardly. But throwing a party here wouldn’t be a bad idea eh?” He grinned, expecting her to react positively to the idea. She’d been all work lately. Even her tendency to wander, a habit that exasperated everyone, only ended with new prizes to show off to faculty rather than celebrating with the rest of the team. But here was an opportunity to shake that routine up a bit.

“Work up some lights, install a sound system, invite the gang, and we can be the highlight of the town for the weekend.” He mused lightly, snickering at memories of throwing bashes back in Australia. Broke into a house much like this one with some temporary mates to throw a huge one there too. Best concert he’d played in his opinion. Blew out a few speakers.

She didn’t answer.

“Carmen?”

“Apparently Shadowsan burned one of the other hideouts. Right after he killed Dexter Wolfe.”

“Dexter who?” He raised a brow at her.

“Wolfe. The VILE faculty member who used to live there.” She glanced back inside the house. He followed her gaze to the empty shelves, layered with perfectly even dust.

He leaned back on the railing and watched her glare, like something would appear on the empty picture frames, or disturb the dust, or even just make the room less vast. More emptiness dispelled by the bit of leftover furniture.

Then she was back to her nonchalant poker face. Looking for a challenge in the situation.

“Wolfe was probably hard to find. He didn’t seem to like staying in one place. I wonder how long it’ll take me to find Shadowsan.” She smirked, clearly expecting to beat whatever unknown record Shadowsan had set.

Tigress had given him the story in an outraged burst, Le chevre and El topo with scoffs, and finally the faculty had given him a more calm report of what had happened. For unknown reasons Shadowsan had defected to work with Carmen. They had given her information that should have destroyed their new bond. Shadowsan had killed her father. Instead of falling apart they had instead continued working together, stronger than ever in their efforts to topple VILE.

Carmen wouldn’t have worked with Shadowsan if he’d actually killed her father, he thought, absently rubbing his jaw of a phantom ache. That’s who Wolfe probably was.

“You never did get along with Shadowsan.” Gray replied, thinking of all the times she’d complained to him that Shadowsan was clearly picking on her, the way he went undermining her achievements.

She gave him a confused look.

“I mean, are you still really going to try to show him up? There’s no real point now.”

“What can I say? I like a challenge.” She smiled arrogantly at him.

“And I wouldn’t say never. He seemed to care a lot when I was younger. He only started acting like a prick when I wanted to join VILE officially. “ She said, finally walking over to the railing to where he was.

Gray stared at her now seemingly dispassionate profile as she gave the luxurious pool a glance.

She wouldn’t have just let VILE tell her something like that without getting to the bottom of it. Shadowsan might have constantly acted like a heel to Carmen but there must be a reason she kept him near after. He was probably more important to her than she’d let on. He was probably a better person than he’d let on as well.

“Never heard you talk this much about yourself.” When they’d modified Carmen’s memories Gray had had to offhandedly remind himself that the train hadn’t happened to her. When she’d come back she’d been even less interested in sharing anything about herself. It felt odd to be back to getting fragments of her again.

“...is it?” Irritation dug into her expression, breaking the collected air she kept trying to keep up yet again.

“Carmen, you didn’t even talk this much back at school.” Gray said flatly.

“I’m not as frank as a bored electrician from Sydney. Go figure.”

“Alright then,” Gray said. Drop the subject.

He waved a hand at the house in general. “What are you going to do with it?”

Carmen paused before answering. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing here for me. It’s not like I need my own hideout. “

“Right. Faculty member now.” He said with a frown.

“Hey, you might make it to a faculty seat one day.” She said in a teasing voice.

“With our current line up? With you?” He said, with a tone of chavalier respect and a nod, so she knew it was a compliment “Sounds like the roster is already full.”

She gave an exaggerated grimace and hiss behind her teeth. “Didn’t take you for a quitter, Gray.”

He gave a short laugh. “Thanks.”

She gave him a shrug, her eyes laughing back with him.

Gray felt like shivering despite the heat. It didn’t feel right. None of this.

“What are you planning on doing when you see him again?” He couldn’t help asking. VILE didn’t like loose ends. As skilled as he was, or rather because he seemed involved and he was skilled, Shadowsan would probably get in Carmen’s path now that she was becoming a bigger threat. Or she’d run off to somehow get to him herself.

“Oh, nothing he wouldn’t deserve.” Carmen said, with a dark cold smile.

Carmen spun the keys around her gloved finger before tossing them to Gray, the small gold keys glinting as they landed coldly in his palm. “The place is all yours.”

"Expensive gift." He said.

"You're welcome."

She started for the stairs.

He propped himself of the railing and walked a bit towards him.

“Where ya headed?”

“It’s a faculty thing.” Carmen said proudly, stopping at the top of the stairs.

“Probably won’t need help for this. I’ll catch up with you on some other mission.” She smiled back at him softly.

“Or who knows, maybe the faculty will have another chair available soon.” She raised a brow at him, the soft smile turning into an unfamiliar grin. Expecting him, he supposed, to rise to a challenge.

He looked at her quietly for a moment before he smiled back.

“That’s alright. Got plans for later anyway.”

“Invite me to the party?” She grinned. A more familiar one this time. One that felt...right.

“Not a party, sadly. Mission.”

“For VILE?” Carmen looked at him curiously.

“No. Just some personal business in Iceland.”

[ev-pierce-writes]

The Promise

The Heir Chapter 3

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12K

Warnings: I can't even remember.

Note: Oof its been a while sorry

___

The council meeting was where everything started to go wrong. The members of the Neutral Systems were always dismissive and condescending toward you, but the presence of the Mandalorian made it worse.

"These people are not easy to convince, Din," you warned him before stepping into the meeting. "I don't know what your plan for Mandalore is but you are either about to make great allies or terrible enemies."

"I'll follow your lead," he said.

"You brought him here?" General Tarrow questioned incredulously the moment you appeared.

"Is there a problem with that?" you countered. Din sat silently beside you, helmet on, surveying the situation.

"You were always one to flirt with danger, Your Majesty. But I never expected you to court the enemy," Prince Cornith, representative of the Angor system, said. You hated his smug smile and arrogant posture. And his implication stoked an anger in your chest.

"And yet I'm not surprised at your apparent prejudice towards someone you've never met. The Mandalorian is not an enemy. He's an ally in need of assistance to fight for his people."

"How are you expecting this to play out? A little catfight amongst warrior clans who know nothing but to fight?" the General asked. A wave of laughter spread through the representatives. You did not join in.

"My people have seen Bo-Katan on Mandalore. She's gathering the people around her. Readying for battle. She needs to be stopped before this escalates and it spills over into other systems."

"So what you're saying is to prepare for war?" General Tarrow's questioned, jumping to a fairly major conclusion.

"I'm saying we need to be prepared for the possibility of one good Mandalorian having to face a hundred bad ones."

"Why should we even get involved in this? This guy can't be trusted," Cornith said, pointing an accusing finger at Din. "Take off the ridiculous helmet and then we'll see for real. Maybe he's a deformed monster under it all."

You bristled against the blatant insult but managed to remain collected. The Prince enjoyed getting a rise out of you and you knew no one would stand up for you if you fired back.

"If the wrong person ends up on the throne, and Mandalore returns to its militaristic ways, they will encroach on your territory. They used to control entire systems. Bo-Katan can and will take yours."

"We are prepared to deal with that if it happens."

"When it happens, General, it will be too late. None of us are a match for a well-organized Mandalorian army. We need to get ahead of this."

"Who's to say he's even the one we should be backing? We are the Neutral Systems for a reason. We don't take sides."

"Djarin is a good man. I trust him. Societies don't rebuild themselves overnight. We need to lay the right bricks now to build a foundation that won't just fall apart and take the whole structure with it. Djarin is the one to do that."

"I hate to argue with you, Your Majesty--" This was a lie. The Prince loved to argue. "--but I'm afraid your judgment is clouded by your shared history with Mandalore."

"And I'm afraid your judgment is clouded by your selfishness, Prince Cornith."

He stood. "I act only with my people's best interests at heart."

"As do I." You stood as well and stared the Prince down. General Tarrow watched the interaction from his seat, just as distrustful as Cornith but less vocal.

"What happens if Bo-Katan does take control and finds out we've been going behind her back to form an alliance?" Cornith said. "The rest of us are done for. Nhora might have the firepower to protect herself, but we don't."

In a way he was right. If this failed, everyone, including Nhora, would take the heat. Din had remained silent the entire time, unsure if he was even allowed to speak. But finally, he did. "You're right. I can't ask you to put your people on the line. All I can ask is that when the time comes you will support my people and their wishes. I just-- I want to protect my family. You can understand that right?"

Cornith eyed Din with distrust and then shook his head. "I'm out. Whatever deal you're going to try to make, I won't get involved."

"Can you at least promise not to align yourself with Bo-Katan?" you pleaded.

He sighed, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk. I'll do what I think is best to protect my people. I'm out."

Cornith's hologram flickered and then disappeared. Two others followed, leaving only you and General Tarrow. And though he still hesitated, Din's words had appeared to make a dent in the tough General's shell. If he wasn't going to listen to you at least he would listen to Din. He sat up and leaned forward, completely ignoring you when he spoke and looking only at the Mandalorian.

"How many soldiers are we talking? How many will it take for this little operation of yours."

"Six," Din said.

"Six?" both you and the General exclaimed at the same time.

"At most."

"And here I thought we were arguing over hundreds. Six we can manage." That was far fewer than either of you were expecting. Din hadn't explained to you what his plan was yet. And if he was being honest, he wasn't quite sure himself. But this was a start.

"You do realize what you are up against, Mando," you questioned. "She'll be expecting you to make a move."

"I once took out an Imp base with fewer than that. Bo-Katan doesn't want a war. She needs to defeat me in battle, fairly, to regain the saber. I just need to get in."

"And then what? Kill or be killed?" The thought made your heart constrict.

"I hope not. But probably."

The room fell quiet at the gravity of his words.

"I'm going with you," Zena said abruptly. She had remained silent throughout the meeting but now spoke with determination.

"Absolutely not," Din said. "No offense but I need trained warriors for this."

You could tell by the look on Zena's face that she'd already made up her mind. "It wasn't a question, Mando," she said. "I'm the best warrior on this planet and I'm going with you."

Din was silent. "Okay," he consented, though sounding a bit taken aback. "That's one. I'll need that Jedi too, Skywalker."

"Good luck finding him," the General said. "I'll discuss this with my Lieutenants. We'll see about filling out your team. But I'm not making any promises, Mando. And you're going to have to deal with the consequences of the Angor system potentially aligning with Bo-Katan. Prince Cornith will follow whoever offers him the best price."

And then the General was gone as well. You sighed, finally able to let down the hardened exterior you had put up for the council meeting. "That did not go as well as I'd hoped."

"I hate that Angor guy," Zena said with a huff.

"Me too. Eyed you like a slab of meat," Din said quietly. It was the harshest language you'd ever heard out of his mouth, almost protective of you. But he moved on quickly. "I was expecting the worst. At least we might have the General. I have a...friend on the inside as well. But I'll need help getting in contact with her."

"I'll take care of that," you said, sinking deeper in your chair, now only thinking that Din's plan might be a suicide mission. Din followed your movements, noticing the stress that radiated from you in waves. You'd taken quite the verbal berating from the council. He wanted to reach out and ease your worry the way he had last night but was too conscious of Zena's watchful eye. So he settled on speaking.

"You can back out," he said. His words caught you off guard. "I can go forward without you. You don't need to put your people on the line like this."

"Too late for that, Mando," Zena said, answering for you. "Once she makes up her mind there's no going back."

---

Zena was right. Your mind was made up. You were suspiciously silent through the rest of the morning's meetings and disappeared directly afterward to your chambers, reappearing again only for lunch. You were planning, turning things over in your mind, wondering how best to move forward. The next logical step seemed to wait on the reappearance of the Jedi and his ward.

Din noticed it all, the concentrated look on your face, your abnormal silence. He wanted to draw you out of your shell, tell you it would be alright, but he didn't know how. So he focused on Zena.

"I didn't know you could fight," he said to her. Zena had offered to give him a tour of the grounds of the palace, and you trailed along behind, eager for a distraction from the stressful morning. The three of you had come upon the sparring grounds, piquing Din's curiosity.

"I come from the longest line of warriors on Nhora," she said. "My mother, her mother, her mother... Not that they passed on anything cool like beskar armor. Is it all beskar?"

"Yes. Though mine wasn't passed on either. I got it through more... dubious means."

"And that? Also beskar?" Zena motioned to the staff on Din's back, topped with a sharp spearhead.

Din unclipped the staff from his back and handed it to her with surprising trust. She took it gingerly, feeling out the balance in her hands. "It's very light. Do you fight with this?"

"Is that a challenge, Zena?"

"Hah, I could take you, Mando. You want to go a round?"

Din didn't need to be asked twice. He was eager to see how your royal advisor fared one on one.

You stood above them on the observation ledge of the sparring grounds, watching as they faced each other below, knowing this would be a good fight.

Zena tapped the staff against the ground. "Where's your weapon, Mando?"

"No weapon. Wouldn't want to give you an unfair disadvantage." Though Zena took those words as a challenge they were not said arrogantly. Din's cool confidence was built on experience and success.

But Din was not prepared for what he would get hit with next. Specifically what Zena hit him with next. Zena struck out with the first blow, slamming the staff in a dangerously accurate hit to the side of his head. The beskar sent vibrations through his helmet and he stumbled back in surprise. Taking advantage of his disorientation Zena dealt a second blow with her foot to his side, and Din gasped, bending over in pain. He'd forgotten about rule one, never underestimate your opponent. And rule number two, no distractions. Having you as an audience was a damn good one.

Zena lunged again, though this time Din was ready, taking hold with his gloved hands of the staff and hauling her forward. But Zena anticipated the attack and counterbalanced, shifting her weight down and using the staff as a lever to launch him onto his back.

Din landed with a groan on the ground. Watching a Mandalorian get his ass kicked by your advisor was a very sufficient diversion.

"Unfair disadvantage, Mando? You seem to be the one at a disadvantage," Zena taunted as Din hauled himself to his feet. "Perhaps you're distracted by a pretty woman on your mind."

"We both know you're trying to impress her too."

Your heart began to flutter. He was trying to impress you.

"Ah yes, but the difference is I've already impressed her. You are behind."

That comment finally got to him. Din struck next, easily knocking the staff from Zena's hands and pinning her arms behind her back to immobilize her upper body. The staff went clattering to the ground. But it wasn't the end for your advisor. She kicked out her legs and took both her and Din to the floor, reaching out and taking hold of the staff to swing at his head. Din rolled out of the way, but not without having to relinquish his hold on Zena. She lept to her feet gracefully and lashed out her leg, planting a solid and swift kick to one of Din's pauldrons, sending him back to the floor.

"You should really work on your hand-to-hand combat, Din Djarin. I expected better from a lifelong warrior."

"I'm good enough to get by," Din said with a huff, finally making his way to his feet again.

"Good enough isn't good enough, Mando. You need to be better. The best."

"Fine, if you want a fair fight, you'll get one." Din pulled something from his belt. It was hard to tell what it was, just an oblong object in his hand. But then he pressed a button and the full length of it emerged, glowing and humming with electricity. The Darksaber.

"So when I defeat you, does that mean I'm the new Mand'alor?"

Zena was taking the appearance of the most powerful handheld weapon in the galaxy in stride.

"If you win, yes. But you're not going to."

The saber met the staff with a crash, sending reverberations across the sparring grounds. You felt a jolt of electricity spread over your skin, vibrating your body down to the core. Din suddenly took on a new appearance, powerful, intense, confident. The shift was small but compelling and you thought perhaps the vibrations spreading through your body were not just from the force of the saber.

Din attacked again, forcing Zena backward in a fight that had taken on a new energy. Zena was skilled and agile. She anticipated Din's every move and blocked his strikes. But she was no match to the Darksaber in Din's hands and found herself forced to step back with each blow until she was up against the wall. The staff narrowly prevented the loss of her head.

"How about now, ready to tap out?"

Zena held up a fist in response, letting him know she knew she was done for.

"I take that back. You are good."

In an instant, the Darksaber was gone again, just a hilt in his hands. "No, the Darksaber is good. You were right. I could use some practice. And I wouldn't mind getting it from the best around."

Zena laughed.

"I train at dawn. See you there, metalhead." With an affectionate rap of her knuckles on his helmet, she handed Din back the staff. "I've got work to do. Perhaps Her Majesty could finish the tour."

She bowed toward you with a dubious smile and exited the sparring grounds, leaving you alone with Din. You walked down the stairs and met him in the center of the ring, the power of the Darksaber leaving your skin vibrating slightly with its intensity.

"So, did it work?" Din asked, his tone level and unreadable.

"Did what work?"

"Did I impress you."

You couldn't suppress the shy smile that danced across your lips. "The Darksaber certainly did."

It wasn't the answer Din had hoped for, but he'd broken your silence, which was enough for him. Without Zena around to watch you, he felt a bit more emboldened to pursue your fleeting smile.

"Give me your hand," he said, voice still serious.

"Why?"

"Just--" He didn't wait. Din grabbed your left hand and placed the Darksaber in it, wrapping your fingers around it with his own. "Point it away from your face. And anything else you value. Then press right here when you're ready."

The Darksaber was in your hand. You stood frozen in shock, unsure of what to make of this gesture. Din was putting his most valuable, and most controversial, possession under your control.

"Go on. I know you want to."

"Are you sure I'm allowed to?"

Din shrugged. "I don't really care. I didn't ask for the thing."

You took a deep breath and then held your arm out from your side, worried you would accidentally slice your own leg off. But Din was right. You wanted to. Another breath and then--

Vroom. The shaft of the saber extended from its hilt with a jolt and you took an involuntary step back. The glow was even brighter up close, and if you listened carefully you could hear the crackle of electricity. You weren't sure why you'd expected it to be heavy, it seemed such a heavy object, carrying the weight of a people and a planet within it. But it wasn't.

Din stepped behind you, you thought to get out of the way of your swing, but then he placed a hand on your hip, showing you how to plant your feet and stabilize you. The left reached out and wrapped around yours.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft and guiding in your ear. Oh Maker, he was so close that you could feel his beskar armor against your back. The hand on your hip was gentle but strong, grounding you not to the floor but to him. You couldn't speak so you nodded in reply.

Din brought your hand up to your opposite shoulder and then guided it into a swift slash across your body, leaving a flash of white light in its wake that seared your eyes. The air sparkled, electrified. A gasp escaped your mouth at the sheer amount of power you held. But only one thought entered your mind.

"Can I cut something in half?"

Din laughed, in awe that this was your only request. "Sure, as long as it isn't me. Remember to balance yourself in your hips. Keep your feet planted. And maybe use two hands this time."

He released you and you stepped across the grounds toward one of the sparring dummies. Din watched, and though you walked gingerly, a bit wary of the saber, you held your head high. You were more powerful than you thought.

"Sorry, bud. This is for a good cause," you addressed the motionless dummy. Plant your feet, balance in the hips, and two hands on the hilt. Check, check, check. Draw back and slash. The Darksaber sliced straight through the sack of hay and sand, spilling its guts across the floor.

You squealed in delight. "Oh Maker, I think I could get used to this."

The beaming smile on your face lit the world on fire. Din found himself staring not at the mess you'd just made but at your expression of pure joy, glowing white from the light of the Darksaber. He wanted to make you feel like that all the time, he realized.

---

"What are the people like on Mandalore?" you asked, guiding Din around the palace library. It was quiet today, especially between the stacks, as everyone seemed to be enjoying the good weather outside.

Din sighed, unsure how to answer the question. "They need help. But they're stubborn and won't ask."

"Sounds familiar," you said and Din laughed in response. You wished you could see his face at times like these when the conversation flowed easily and he let you tease him.

"You know, some people on Mandalore don't even believe you're real."

"They don't?"

"They think you're a figurehead. A distraction from the real people in charge. That you only show up to make appearances at official functions."

It wasn't that surprising for you to hear. You rarely left the palace and never left the planet. But there was another reason you suspected their disbelief.

"I think I know why," you said.

Din's silence urged you to continue.

"Meet me outside the palace. At four. I'll show you."

When Din stood at the grand doors of the entrance to the palace, he thought for a moment you had forgotten about him up. He was looking for the regal version of you, the version where you wore your extravagant robes and were surrounded by guards. That is not the version that appeared.

Instead, you were dressed modestly, having abandoned your synthsilk robes for brown linen pants. A dark green cape was wrapped around your shoulders, the hood hiding your face, but the heat signature on Din's visor was clearly yours. The transformation was astounding.

Din bowed as you approached. "Your Majesty," he addressed you.

"Stop that, you'll give me away. You should use my real name."

Your real name? He hadn't yet been offered the privilege of that knowledge, and it embarrassed him to discover what an intense reaction the thought of it elicited from him. His heart rate picked up erratically and he thanked the Maker for his helmet to hide the blush on his cheeks.

You leaned in, beckoning with a finger for him to come closer, and whispered to him in a soft voice. Your name. Your real name. It was a beautiful secret, a name all for himself to possess and wrap around his tongue. It suited you, Din thought.

He repeated it back to you, testing out its weight. You liked the way the syllables rolled around his mouth, even through the modulation of his helmet.

"Come on, we'll start at the market first. I have forty hard-earned credits to spend."

Din trailed behind you through the late afternoon crowds, weaving this way and that over bridges and around stalls. There was no way Din would have been able to find his way around, but you knew the place like the back of your hand, following the paved stone paths, recognizing your favorite shopkeepers, and pointing out the best spots.

Once fully immersed in the throng and away from any guards who may have recognized you, you let your hood fall from your head, tilting your face toward the sun and smiling contentedly. Though your face was no different than it always was, you had changed somehow. No one recognized you or even gave you a second glance, other than perhaps to admire the beauty of the sunlight reflecting from your untamed hair. At least, that's what Din was staring at.

And finally he understood, that beneath it all you weren't just a queen, you were any other person who could blend in with the crowd. He was jealous. He wanted to disappear like that.

"Keep up, Mando," you said, and reached out behind you to grab his hand. You did it to prevent him from getting swept up and lost to the swarms of people, but his heart fluttered at the intimacy and ease of the interaction as you pulled him closer.

"Why are there so many people?" he mumbled into your ear as you paused at one of the stalls to take a look.

"Tomorrow's the fertility festival. After the last day of planting the year's crops, everyone celebrates and prays for good yields. The city will be even more packed tomorrow, so the market prepares for the influx of people." You moved on, dragging Din along behind you. "But today is really the day to come. Fewer people and a better selection."

Selection of what? Din almost asked until you pulled him to a stop. Somehow, you were back at that stall Din had noticed during his first trip here, the one with the delicious smelling food that he'd been in too much of a hurry, and too poor, to buy. Din lingered behind you, eyeing the small pastries and steaming bowls of...something. He wasn't exactly sure what. But it still smelled just as amazing as he remembered, even through the filtered sterile air of his helmet.

"I'll take three of those," you said, pointing at the largest pastries on the top row of the display. The woman running the stall silently slid them into a paper bag, completely oblivious to your identity. You loved the liberating feeling of not having anyone call you by your title or even recognize who you truly were.

"And for the Mandalorian?" the woman asked, glancing slightly nervously at Din's hulking shape hovering just behind you.

You turned toward him. "Are you super hungry or just really hungry?" you asked with a grin.

"Oh, no thank you. I can't afford that."

You pulled a stack of credits from your pocket and handed them over, completely ignoring his comment. "We'll take two more fruit pastries and two of the vegetable ones, thank you."

And then you were off again before he could protest, guiding him further away from the palace and into the market. From the top of a bridge, you flagged down one of the canal taxis, stepping down the bank as it slowed to a stop.

"Now where are we going?"

You didn't respond, just pointed at the flat-bottomed boat, indicating for Din to get in. He did as he was told, jumping in easily, and you moved to follow, sitting on the edge of the stone wall to reduce how far you'd have to jump. But Din stopped you with his hands on your hips, lifting you easily with his arms into the boat so that you wouldn't have to jump.

"Where to?" the helmsman said.

You pointed along the canal in the direction opposite of the city. "Just follow on up that way."

"Lady, you're going to hit marsh. I can't go that far without my boat bottoming out."

"Just go until you can't anymore."

The taxi maneuvered up the canal, at first following the stone walls that lined the waters edge. Soon, however, they turned to grass as you left the boundary of the city, the market fading slowly behind you. The man was right. The canal quickly became more of a creek, marsh grasses and reeds growing up around you.

"This is as far as I can take you. Not sure why you'd want to be here, but I'm not coming back so good luck."

How kind. Din helped you out of the boat, a bit wary of your strange plan. There couldn't have been anything out here. But you were scrambling onto the grassy embankment, paper bag of food in tow, and he followed diligently behind.

"I'm starting to think you're a bit crazy," Din teased. He'd roughed it before, and this was by no means roughing it, but he hadn't expected this from you.

"I know what I'm doing, Din. Just follow me."

The ground leveled out, marshes to one side of the creek, a smattering of trees on the other. The two of you walked along the shrinking stream of water, a soft blanket of grass beneath your feet, until you found what you were apparently looking for.

"When I was a kid, I would hide out here. No one could find me."

Din wasn't surprised. The small clearing was absolutely secluded from the rest of the world, the city skyline was gone, the sounds of the market reduced to nothing. Around him, the chirping and croaking of wildlife was the only noise besides the rushing water of the shallow stream. The air was warm today, warmer than it had been in a while, and though the evening was waning, you pulled off your cape and tossed it to the ground.

Without a second thought, you plopped down on the ground next to the stream, back against a tree, and off came your shoes so you could dig your toes into the sandy bank. You opened the paper bag, fishing around for the first pastry. When Din didn't join you, you patted the ground next to you, inviting him to sit.

"You're sure we're safe?"

"Of course we're safe, Din. I know my way around my own planet."

Finally he sat, looking slightly out of place in all his beskar. But he removed his helmet when you handed him one of the vegetable pies, helping him to look a little more relaxed in these unfamiliar surroundings. He leaned back against the thick tree, looking around to better gauge his environment. You, and the planet you called home, never ceased to surprise him.

"Have you ever left?"

"Where? Nhora?"

"Yeah."

You looked up toward the sky where the sun was starting to set, casting an orange and pink glow through the clouds. But you weren't looking for the sunset. You were looking for the moons, already rising.

"There. See the smallest moon, up and to the left?" Din nodded in the direction you pointed. "It's actually the biggest, only it looks small because it's so far away. That's where I was born. But no, otherwise I haven't."

Din nodded solemly and took a bite of the pie. You weren't sure why he'd posed the question and he didn't seem inclined to explain. You watched as he chewed slowly, crumbs from the crust spilling onto his armor. And then his eyes went wide with enjoyment. The soft buttery pastry melted in his mouth, sweetness contrasting with the salty filling.

"Wow, this is delicious."

You smiled in satisfaction. That reaction was all you'd wanted all day, to see him blown away by the things you called home. He finished the first pastry in silence and then held out a hand, asking you wordlessly for another.

"I once visited a planet with no atmosphere," he said abruptly. It was surprising to hear him speak like this, freely, with no prompting. You held your tongue because it was the only way to encourage him to go on. "Then there was the planet where I couldn't stop moving unless I wanted to be someone's lunch."

He paused, thinking. "I know four languages. Aside from basic."

That one was impressive. You realized this was him opening up. Sharing. It made your heart tingle with warmth. Then Din fell into silence, indicating it was your turn.

"I can fly an x-wing," you said after a moment of thinking. "Not very well. But in a pinch. And I've never punched anyone, though I really want to punch that Angor prince sometimes."

"You can try it out on me."

"I think I'd rather not break my hand on your armor," you said with a laugh. What else? "I'm twenty-six years old."

Din took a deep breath. "I don't know how old I am. Maybe thirty-nine. Or forty."

"You look older than that."

Din glanced at you to gauge if you were joking. You were, in fact, joking, a big smile filling the round apples of your cheeks, mouth full of flaky pastry. "Alright, very funny. Your turn."

"I--" Where did you want to take this conversation? Din's presence next to you made you feel comfortable and warm and something about that inclined you to dig deeper, let him in a little more. "I don't know who my father was. Or is, I guess."

Din let out a quiet breath beside you. You were both watching the sunset, not one another, but you didn't have to see his face to feel comforted by his presence. "My parents are definitely dead if that makes you feel any better. No doubt about that."

The admission was a difficult one for him, and he was glad you didn't press any further. But then suddenly your hand was on his leg, gripping his knee tightly and telling him to be quiet.

"What's wrong?"

"Shh!" For a moment Din thought you were in imminent danger, but then he saw no alarm on your face, only excitement. "Don't move," you whispered.

The final light of the sun had dimmed, leaving you surrounded by a deep blue twilight. And yet, you still managed to spot the creature, sitting on a rock across the stream from you. You stood as quietly as possible, moving slowly so as not to scare it away. Without bothering to roll up the legs of your pants you stepped barefooted into the shallow stream, the cool water rushing around your ankles, not yet warmed by the sun of the warming season. But a little cold water wasn't going to stop you from catching the small creature.

Din watched as you bent over slowly and then snatched as quick as lightning, grabbing at something sitting on a rock. When you stood, triumph on your face, he nearly laughed. "What is that?"

"It's a glow frog, remember?"

Of course, he remembered. The animal you'd compared Grogu to. You were grasping the frog firmly but gently, holding it up for Din to see. It was a comical sight, a woman normally so regal and queen-like, shin-deep in marsh water, wild animal in her hands.

"So is the glow part just for kicks or..." The frog was not living up to its name. No glowing in sight.

"Just wait. It takes a second." The sun had fully dipped below the horizon now, the light from the three moons overhead the strongest source in the night sky. But then it happened. The small creature in your hands began to illuminate, green and fluorescent. It started slow, almost imperceptibly, until it shown bright, casting its glow across your face.

And you were right. The resemblance was uncanny. The frog opened its wide mouth, eyes large, and it croaked, surprising you enough into dropping it back into the water. You giggled, and suddenly Din spotted the youthful shine reappearing on your face the way it had the other night in the kitchen.

"They respond to pressure, releasing a chemical when you surprise them. I used to catch them all the time out here. The only downside is this," you said, holding up your hands which now fluoresced as well.

"That doesn't seem healthy."

"Oh, its fine. Look, it just washes off." You rinsed your hands in the water, the green fluorescence washing downstream, most of it coming off, though not all. When you pushed the hair out of your face with a wet hand, you left green glowing streaks behind on your cheeks. You glittered in the moonlight.

Din had never seen you so happy. What happened to you?

"What did you say?"

Oh Maker, he'd said that out loud. He hadn't meant to. And he could tell by the fallen look on your face that you had definitely heard him, only wanted him to repeat it to be sure. Din regretted the words immediately, watching as the joy faded from your face.

"Nothing. Forget it." But it was too late.

You waded back across the stream, a sudden chill running through your body as the night air cooled. You sat heavily, pondering the implications of actually opening up to the man next to you. You'd spent so long trying to bottle up how you felt, pretending it didn't exist, pretending you weren't attracted to him, that the tender gesture of Din replacing your cape around your shoulders forced it all out in one go.

Once you started speaking, you couldn't stop. And he listened.

"I was seven when the Clone Wars finally came to an end. It was a...brutal, destructive end. After my grandmother died, my grandfather came back to visit sometimes. He promised to protect us, even though it went against our customs. Something about Mandalorian creed. I'm sure you understand," you said, gesturing vaguely in Din's direction. "But Nhora seemed safe from the war. I was still living on Lunar Post 3 with the rest of the kids from noble families. It was easier like that, educating us all together in one place."

You took a breath, coming to the hard part.

"I had an older sister, Tia. She was so...perfect. I looked up to her. She was going to be queen and even though she was eleven years older than me she treated me like the only star in the sky." Tears pricked behind your eyes but you kept going, kept yourself steady by gazing up at the sky. "She and my mother came to visit for my birthday. It was the last trip she would make before her coronation. But everything went wrong. I don't remember it well, but when the explosions hit there was no one there to protect us, not the guards, and especially not my grandfather. The first one killed my mother. Tia died in the second, shielding me.

"The blasts were meant for me and the other noble children, the second borns, the replaceables, the one's who could be eliminated and then played like a bargaining chip to force my mother's hand to help the Independent Systems. I didn't understand. I'll never understand. I was too young. But instead they took out the royal line and left only me. And so began eleven years of non-stop training for a position I was not born to have. I wanted to escape so badly, to any planet as long as it wasn't this one, just to mourn them even. But this was all I had," you said, gesturing to your surroundings.

Din was silent, unsure what to say, but you were grateful for that. You preferred silence anyway.

"The scars have healed with time. Maybe one day they'll be gone."

"Emotional scars never heal," Din finally said. He was watching you, one knee propped up to support his elbow as he leaned against the trunk of the tree.

"Well, that's true, but I don't mean emotional scars. I mean physical ones."

"But you're so... well, you're so whole, so undamaged." He was thinking about your soft hands and how smooth they'd been on his face.

"That's not true. I have scars."

Din narrowed his eyes, prompting you to continue.

You shrugged your cape off again and started to unbutton to top buttons of your shirt. You had nothing to prove to this man, didn't need to do anything to earn his respect. And yet you wanted to show him the most vulnerable parts of you.

"You don't have to--"

You yanked the collar of your shirt down, effectively shutting him up, and putting the scar that sliced along your clavicle on full display. "Here's where the first blast hit."

Then you turned away, kneeling with your back to Din, and fully unbuttoned your shirt, letting it slip from your shoulders and gather at your waist to show him the second scar, another long slice that curved around your right shoulder blade. Both scars were old, softened and faded over the years from having grown much bigger than when they were inflicted. They no longer hurt to touch, though the searing pain of the memories was still there.

"How..." Din couldn't finish his sentence. He was too preoccupied with the sight of your bare back, smooth except for the line that hinted at the intense trauma from your past. And the scars were beautiful; you were beautiful. He realized with a shudder that you were now naked from the waist up, giving the marsh a show he'd been thinking of catching a glimpse of for a while now.

You heard Din move, heard him shift and lean forward, felt his warm presence behind you. You wondered momentarily if he would touch you and found you liked that thought.

You didn't feel him reaching out until a single finger touched your back gently, gliding along the path of your scar and sending a shiver down your spine. The goosebumps that followed his touch did not go unnoticed by either of you. You looked back over your shoulder, watching Din from the corner of your eye as several waves of emotions washed over him, pity, sadness, horror, fascination, admiration. But he couldn't seem to pull his hand away, ungloved, from the skin on skin contact.

"Do you miss your family?" His question was asked in barely a whisper.

"I don't really remember them anymore." It was difficult to admit that you had mostly forgotten what your mother and sister looked like.

"You can miss something you don't remember having." Din was right, of course, though he'd said it absentmindedly, thinking of his own family. His fingers were still tracing along the skin of your back, up your vertebrae, across your ribs. Something else had taken control of his hand, like he didn't know what he was doing anymore, unaware of his movements.

You could have stopped him. Brought him back from wherever his mind was floating up in space. But you didn't. You leaned into his touch, consenting to the reassurance of his presence. You let Din wrap his arm around your waist, place his warm hand against your bare tummy, and pull you in.

He didn't know what compelled him to hold you like this. He'd never wanted to touch anyone this way before. But you leaned into him, your body melting against his, a contented hum spreading through you and into the big hands that held you, and it felt like a piece of him he hadn't even known was missing had been returned to its rightful place.

It was oddly serene, this position of being encompassed by someone so much bigger than you. But he was hot against your naked skin, insulating you from the night air. He pressed his face against your neck, breathing you in, lips barely grazing your skin, and you thought you could sit like this forever, protected, safe, warm.

He didn't try to grope you, didn't try to get a peek at whatever you might look like from the front. It was intensely comforting, knowing that he respected you, knowing he wouldn't take advantage of you the way so many other men tried to do. He only wanted to inhale your scent and never let go of this feeling he had no name for. It was a feeling he'd only ever felt once before, while holding the kid for the last time, knowing he had to say goodbye. Neither of you wanted to move.

The sounds of the world melted away and it was only you and Din and his breath against your skin. You had no idea how long you stayed that way.

"We should go," you whispered. "Before someone realizes I'm gone."

Though reluctantly, Din pulled away, that all-encompassing warmth gone, and he helped you dress. He'd barely even seen you, barely even touched you, and he was craving more. He wanted to be linked to you forever, to hold your hand the way you had in the market, to kiss you. He'd never done any of it before and yet he knew without a doubt you were the person he wanted to be with. He just needed to know you felt the same.

"You don't have to do alone," he said, hoping you would understand what he was offering.

"Excuse me?" You turned back to look at him but the helmet was already on and you couldn't tell what he was implying underneath it.

"Rule. You don't have to rule alone. I know you can. I've seen you do it. But you don't have to."

You stood, suddenly feeling exposed though fully dressed again, like the Mandalorian had just read your mind and discovered every feeling that swirled around in there.

"Don't you dare tell me what I do or don't have to do, Djarin," you said sharply. But your voice cracked with suppressed tears."There are traditions to follow, customs I have to abide by. This is my place."

The words were harsh, more defensive than they should have been and you regretted saying them the moment they left your mouth. But Din had recognized in you what you truly wanted, to not be alone anymore, to have a family again, and it scared you.

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked unexpectedly, standing as well.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your words still laced with annoyance and defiance. You were still feeling defensive, but now you were equally as confused.

He repeated the question and you shook your head slowly. What was he planning?

"Good, I'm tired of walking," was all he said before he wrapped his arms around your waist, powered up his jetpack, and shot straight up into the air. Somehow, you managed not to vomit at the sudden change in altitude. But Maker, you were flying, and incredibly fast.

One moment you were frozen in shock and the next you were screaming, your voice lost to the wind that pummeled your face. You hid your face in the crook of Din's next, holding on tight. No, you weren't afraid of heights, but that wasn't the problem here. The problem was you felt like you were going to fall at any moment, no matter how tightly Din held you.

But it was a short flight. You landed less than gracefully at the front doors of the palace, stumbling like you'd just stepped off a boat. Din caught your elbow and righted you.

"Dank farrick, Din! You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry. You were spiraling. I had to do something."

You realized he was right. The shock of adrenaline coursing through your body had completely distracted you from the emotions you had been overwhelmed with only a couple of minutes ago. But now they started to flood back, the loneliness, the fear. Why did you feel these things, but only now, with Din right next to you? Did he remind you of how hard it was to be alone, show you what you were missing? You had to get away, to be with your jumbled thoughts for a moment and collect yourself. You couldn't breathe.

"Thank you for... spending the evening with me. I--" You couldn't look him in the face, even though it was hidden behind the helmet. You didn't finish your sentence, just walked away, leaving the Mandalorian standing in the entrance to your quiet palace.

"You can't run forever." You were already halfway up the stairs when Din called out. You didn't stop, didn't turn around, just ran like the coward you were from the feelings you couldn't hide from him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You were an idiot that couldn't tell the one good man on this maker-forsaken planet how you really felt.

In your bedroom you stripped, changing quickly into your pajamas and then curling up in bed under the covers. Maybe if you pressed your face into the pillow hard enough you could scream in frustration and no one would hear.

Din had watched as you walked, no, ran, away from him. He should have stopped you, should have told you how he felt. How did he feel, though? What words would he have to say to you, other than what he'd already said? And then what, just to have you throw his feelings right back in his face.

He didn't move until you'd disappeared from sight, only then making his way to his room. It wasn't often that Din got the opportunity to sleep without his armor on. He usually didn't feel safe enough. But here, in this palace, he pulled each piece off one by one and stacked it on the floor. Here, he could sleep in comfort, in peace, without anything to bother him--

Except that he knew he couldn't. Not when he felt there was something left unsaid. He hoped you wouldn't be asleep yet, hoped that when he saw your face he would know exactly what he wanted to say.

You didn't get the chance to scream into your pillow. Someone knocked softly at your bedroom door, disturbing your stress relief hours. You swore to the Maker, if it was Zena or one of your guards here to berate you for sneaking out again, you would actually scream, and not into a pillow but in their face.

But it wasn't Zena or a guard or anyone else. It was Din on the other side and you were wearing those damn transparent pajamas again like you knew what they did to him. But he had to focus. He had things he wanted to say. He'd caught a glimpse of the real you deep inside and he wanted it back, all for himself.

"I meant what I said." Din never raised his voice, but now he was becoming insistent. "You put so much into caring for others. But have you ever thought about accepting some help every once in a while?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your heart rate. Why did seeing his face like this make you so nervous? It excited you to find the Mandalorian standing patiently outside your bedroom, especially at this time of night.

"I don't need help," was all you managed to sputter out. Apparently, Din had made a stop in his room to shed his armor, the first time you'd seen him without it. You'd expected him to look smaller under it all but he still managed to fill your doorway and block your escape.

"Maker be damned, I'm trying to tell you that I want to take care of you. I'm not offering because I think you need me, I'm offering because you're allowed to need me." Din took a step forward, closing the gap between you even more. Written on his face was an urgency you'd only seen a few times before.

"I--" You didn't know what to say. I don't know how? "I can't think when you look at me like that."

"Like what?" Din's voice was low with earnest gravity.

"Like you care."

"I do care. I care a lot, but for some reason, you won't accept it." His hands found your face, holding your chin to force you to look into his eyes. "Somehow you think this is disingenuous. And I know you don't trust many people but let me be one of them."

Care. Trust. His words rattled around your brain and sent you spinning. He was so close, so warm. The world was hazy with that tingling feeling, the one that pulled you to him, made you reach out a hand to touch the dark fabric of his undershirt. You had no idea what you were doing, no control over the movement of your fingers as they took hold and dragged him closer.

"Stop running," he whispered softly, letting you pull your bodies together.

He cared. Oh Maker, he wanted you to lean on him, to give him some of the burden you carried. So you did, letting your hands find his shoulders and rest there.

"Do you trust me?" you asked in a hushed tone.

"Of course--"

"Then kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice, closing the last of the distance between you and kissing you with the same urgency that was written on his face.

You were it, the first and last. Your lips were like a siren's song, dragging Din to the depths of a passion he'd suppressed for so long, calling for him to relent to their addictiveness. He would drown in this taste until he succumbed.

Din kissed you tenderly, carefully, as if he was afraid you would disappear the moment he let go. No man had ever kissed you this way. They had all been greedy, triumphant, dominating kisses, as if you were a prize to be won, a conquest to be conquered. But Din, Din kissed like he had everything to lose and nothing to gain in return. He only pulled away when you did, breathless and panting for air, foreheads pressed together.

Your hands were still grabbing his shirt greedily as you dragged him into your bedroom. Din was so lost in capturing your lips with his again he barely noticed being pushed onto the bed until he was flat on his back with your body stacked on top of his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing your hips flush with his, your knees straddling his waist in return, and your elbows leaning on either side of his head.

No matter how tightly he held you it wasn't enough. He needed to fit that missing piece back into the hole in his heart. But your lips were a start. It was impossible to tell where yours ended and his began and that's how he liked it.

Was this what he was missing out on his whole life? When you prodded your tongue against his lips, he let you sink deep into his mouth, moaning in response and sending vibrations through his chest and into yours.  He ran his hands up and down your sides, memorizing every curve and contour, wishing the clothing that separated you two would disappear but not knowing how to make it happen.

You broke away to run your fingers through Din's hair, his really fucking soft hair, and place a kiss on the nose that was simply begging to be kissed. You'd wanted to do that for a while.

"How do you taste so good? Like heaven on my tongue," he mumbled. His words sent shivers down your spine and you pulled away to look at his face. Din's eyes were closed, heavy with bliss and experiencing the greatest pleasure of his life. Your body tingled with excitement.

"Have you never been kissed properly?" you asked teasingly. It was meant as a joke.

"Never been kissed," was his short reply, eyes still closed, a dumbstruck look on his face.

You stopped in your tracks, abruptly pulling away further and sitting up.

"What?" you asked, a bit louder than you'd intended.

Din's eyes flew open. He wasn't sure what to say. He'd thought it was obvious, considering how awkwardly unaware he was of what he was doing. "I've worn a helmet for three decades. Doesn't really aid in building romantic relationships."

Suddenly you felt like apologizing, afraid you'd forced him into something he didn't want. "Oh Maker, I'm sorry, if I'd known I would have--"

"Woah, slow down, Angel." You were speaking too fast, tumbling over your words a mile a minute. Din sat up as well, holding onto your hips to keep you straddling him, grounding you and letting you know it was okay. "Don't apologize. I want you. I need you."

Fuck, he needed you. The sincerity in his eyes and his tender use of a nickname eased your worry. But you were still unsure. What if this was some part of his Mandalorian creed, and you were breaking it? Din seemed to recognize the concern on your face, the way he always did.

"Look at me." You did. "I want this. I promise. I've dreamt about kissing you since the moment I met you. Fuck, you have no idea. I dream about holding you and touching you and making you feel good. I just--I don't know how. Tell me how."

This was...new. Uncharted territory. Men usually knew what they were doing. Or at least thought they did. Generally, they were arrogant enough to believe they were pleasuring you, even when they weren't. Never had anyone asked what you wanted. The fact that this man, the greatest warrior in the galaxy, was absolutely clueless but asking for your help, turned you on even more.

If he thought that kiss was good, you were about to blow his mind.

Din had seen naked women before. Once, he'd chased a bounty into a strip club and shackled the man as he was paying for a lap dance. But nothing could compare to you. The urgency that had dominated your kiss was gone, replaced by a deliberate craving. You guided his hands to the buttons of your shirt, urging him to take it off himself. He did, fingers grazing your skin as he slipped the item from your shoulders, leaving your heaving breasts bare before him. You were breathing rapidly and Din burned, knowing that he was the reason why.

"Tell me if you want to stop."

Din nodded, eyes roving all over you, from your face to your chest to the soft plane of your stomach. Between your breasts hung the round pendant of your necklace and he watched as it swung gently back and forth. You could tell he wanted to touch you but was unsure if he should, or how he should. So you took his hand, holding his fingers gently to place them on the soft skin of your neck.

"Follow your fingers with your lips."

At first, he was confused, but then you began to move his hand, dragging his fingers down your neck, along your collarbone, over the tender flesh of your breasts, across your hardening nipple, and down toward the hem of your pants. Din did as he was told, placing soft, open mouth kisses everywhere his fingers went. He placed his free hand on your back, stabilizing you as you leaned back to give him better access. He lingered on the soft mounds of your areolas, taking each into his mouth and sucking gently. He did it instinctually, not knowing what reaction he would receive from you, but taking immense pleasure in the moans he elicited from your mouth.

Mouth still tasting every inch of your bare skin, Din gripped your hips and flipped you around so that you were laying on the bed. He wasn't sure if it was what he was supposed to do, but it seemed like the right move. He continued to kiss you everywhere he could, meditating in the sweet floral scent that an evening spent in nature had left upon you. You nodded when he looked into your eyes, silently asking to remove your pants for you.

Maker, you were gorgeous. He took a ragged breath at the sight of you, slick with desire, all for him. You whispered his name, pulling his intense gaze away from your folds and back to your eyes.

"Watch," you said. And then you began to touch yourself, a lazy finger gathering your wetness and dragging along your slit. You let your legs fall open to give Din a better view as you pleasured yourself. With your middle finger, you found your clit and circled, easing into the satisfying feeling that you knew would build toward an orgasm. You added another finger, dipping slowly into your cunt and savoring the warmth you found there.

Din could tell you'd done this many times before, knew exactly how best to touch yourself. But now someone was watching you, intently, exploring your edges and lines with his gaze, cataloging every hitch in your breath and twitch of your stomach. He studied your patterns and movements like he did his bounties, learning what you liked, anticipating your reactions.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, the wicked voyeuristic sensation lighting something new in your core. What had once been your own dirty little secret you were now performing for an audience, an extremely attentive audience, and it was hot as fuck.

Din watched as your head flopped back in pleasure, a breathy moan escaping your throat, as your free hand came to your breast to pinch and twist the hard bud. Just seeing you this way, writhing beneath your own touch, was making his cock grow hard, but he wanted desperately to be the one to make you feel that way, edging you toward orgasm.

You noticed his need and grabbed his hand to replace it with your own, though not before bringing your fingers to Din's lips for a taste. He wrapped his mouth around your wetness with no reluctance, eyes sinking shut with heady desire and licking them clean.

Like heaven. He wanted you so badly, to know what every inch of you tasted like. He would have to be patient.

Everything about this was irritatingly slow, but it brought your craving for him to a new level. The urgency that had built as you worked toward your first orgasm had subsided to a dull ache without your consistent fingers, begging to be attended to. You knew you could finish yourself off, quickly and easily. But you wanted him to be the one to do. You wanted to know what it was like to unravel beneath the Mandalorian.

Din truly had no idea what he was doing and he couldn't sustain what you'd started. But he was curious, unafraid, and the acute learner in him caught on quickly. You gasped as a thick finger entered you, experimental and slow, and you grabbed onto his shoulders for both his support and your own. He added another finger, testing the velvet softness of your cunt and the ridges of your walls, filling you and stretching you in a way you couldn't do for yourself. He could get the angle right, you knew, better than your own fingers could, but it wasn't enough. You would have to show him.

You peeled open your eyes, unaware that they had even been shut in the first place, to watch him. He was taking you in with his eyes, leaving no part of you untouched by his gaze.

"Din, look at me." His eyes snapped to yours. "Like this."

You showed him how to curl his fingers, how to press his thumb to your clit at the same time. And when he did, Oh Maker, it was the sensation you'd always craved but could never perform for yourself. He filled you so well and only his fingers were touching you. A stifled cry left your lips and you gripped his shoulder harder, trying to ground yourself despite feeling like you were being lifted off into space. He leaned down, fingers still moving magically inside you, and took a nipple between his teeth, nibbling gently and soothing the searing sensation with a soft kiss before doing it all over again.

"Does this feel good, Your Majesty?" he asked against the skin of your chest, voice husky with arousal. It was utterly sinful, using your title while he was finger fucking you into oblivion.

You could barely do more than moan in response. He was catching on quickly, noticing how your hips jerked in response to the pressure on your clit and your walls clenched around his fingers when he simply curled them up and forward. You were falling apart slowly but surely, your breathing erratic, some very unqueenly curses falling from your perfect lips.

This was torture, this build-up, slow, consistent, inching. You could feel it coming, feel the heat pooling between your thighs and your pelvic floor spasming. But it was so fucking slow, like marching straight toward a cliff and not knowing when the edge would come, when the ground would fall out beneath your feet. And you loved every moment of it.

Din's face had fallen to your neck, his lips pressing heated kisses everywhere he could put them. He could feel your erratic pulse beneath his lips, the vibrations of your moans spreading through him. "Does this feel good? I need you to tell me. Tell me."

"Fuck, yes Din, don't stop. Don't-- don't do anything different. It's perfe--"

The words got stuck in your throat as you moaned into your approaching orgasm. You would cum any moment if--

And then, the edge of the cliff gave out and there was nothing beneath you but your crashing orgasm and Din's steady hand, guiding you through your pleasure. Oh Maker, the progress had been so measured and gradual you hadn't even known it was coming, but now you were falling and falling, only to be caught by Din's unyielding touch.

Din's face was buried in your neck as you came, your delicious cries breathed directly into his ear. It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, the sound of you fracturing into a million pieces by his hand. He cursed under his breath and you felt his words against your skin as you came down from your high, twitching and spasming.

"Are you okay, Angel?" he asked sweetly. He brushed the hair from your face to gaze deeply into your eyes, bewildered by what he'd just done to you.

"I'm more than okay," you replied with a giggle. You couldn't help the sound that bubbled up in your throat. "Come here."

You pulled at Din's shirt to drag him into a kiss and realized he was still fully clothed, the bastard. You wanted the shirt off with the rest of his clothes. You wanted nothing between you and him.

"Off. All of this off," you said, motioning to his clothes. Din complied and stood, tossing everything to the floor. You sat up onto your knees on the mattress so that you were at his eye level when he approached the edge of the bed once more. Reaching out to pull him in by his hips, you caught a glimpse of the amazing specimen before you. Broad and thick was the best way to describe him, both his shoulders and his cock. He had smooth, soft skin with hardened muscles beneath, no doubt from the taxing nature of his job, slightly tanned and beautifully scarred.

And he was hard for you. It sent a thrill up your spine to grasp gently at his thick length as he pulled you closer, lips against yours. He gasped into your mouth as he aligned his body with yours, bucking his hips involuntarily into your hand while you stroked him slowly. You took the opportunity to nibble his bottom lip, relishing in how fucking good it felt to press your skin to his. He was intoxicatingly warm, his big warm hands on your back, his big warm cock against your stomach.

"Can I ride you?" you asked against his mouth. Din groaned, eyes fluttering shut.

"I have no idea what that means but yes, please."

"Lay down." Oh Maker, it felt a little too good to tell this force of a man what to do and have him listen. But that was a feeling to be explored at another time. Now there was only fucking him into the next galaxy. You wanted to hear your name, your real name, from his lips.

You climbed across Din's lap, straddling him but not sinking onto him yet, instead letting his cock rest between your folds and tease your entrance gently. You were in no hurry, the high of your first orgasm still leaving you overly sensitive to touch, but you could tell Din was eager for release. He gripped your hips tightly as you leaned down, letting him take each of your breasts in his mouth, one by one.

When you began to grind your hips slowly against his, it took all his effort not to let the dam break right then and there. He'd gotten himself off plenty of times, even going so far as to hold back as long as he could to prolong the pleasure. But your folds were slick and warm against his twitching cock and he wasn't sure he could take the torture much longer. He needed to be inside you and he wasn't above begging.

"Are you going to take me or just fucking tease me all night?" Din huffed.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, wanting to taste his exclamations on your tongue when you finally sank your pussy around his length. And he did not disappoint. He was just as loud as you'd hoped he'd be, after finally lining your entrance with his length and easing down onto him. What you didn't expect was how good it would feel to have him inside you, your own moans mingling with his at the sensation. He filled you completely, stretching you further than his fingers had. It was slightly painful, but only in the sense that pleasure is often conflated with pain. You took him fully, feeling the head of his shaft press against the sensitive flesh of your cervix deep inside you.

Rolling your hips experimentally, Din jerked below you, trying to speed up your movements, but you wouldn't relent. With a hand on his face, thumb and fingers pressing into his cheeks, you maintained eye contact, the other hand against his chest for stability.

"Let me take care of you, Mando," you whispered with a hazy smile. He wanted so desperately to flip you over and fuck you however he pleased, but he held back, the sight of you beautiful and bare atop him mesmerizing and enthralling. The flush of your skin and the gentle bounce of your tits as you moved hypnotized him into obeying your request. He would do whatever his queen asked of him, he knew, without question.

You slowly picked up the pace, maintaining the rocking motion that dragged his cock along your g-spot and drove Din mad. He groaned and grunted beneath you, his sounds mixing with yours in the otherwise quiet bedroom. You leaned back, placing your hands flat against his thighs, and kept going, loving the way he let loose without inhibition or reserve. His hands gripped tightly at your hips, crashing you back down every time you rocked up, and you felt your second orgasm building in your core. It was now a question of who would come first. You suspected it would be Din.

It was his turn to fall apart, to lose control. You wanted him to relinquish his dignity the way you had to him. Finally, those precious words left his lips, at first a whisper and building louder, your name groaned over and over and over again. Your walls clenched at the sound and he choked beneath you at the sensation.

"Fuck, Angel, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up." You leaned forward again and noticed his eyes were screwed tight like he was holding back as best he could.

"Oh baby, that's the point. Cum for me, Din. Cum inside me, baby." The commanding words tumbled from your mouth, mixed with your shameless moans as you held back your own orgasm, wanting to clamp down around his cock as he came. With a jerk, you felt his cock twitch inside you, and Din cursed loudly with a groan. He seized your hips even harder than he had before, firmly holding you against his own as he came hard, his cum spilling deep inside you. With his heat filling you, you let go, releasing your own orgasm and contracting around his length, milking every drop.

You collapsed on top of Din with an overstimulated sob, not even bothering to pull off of his throbbing member. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you, his ragged breath in your ear slowly steadying and returning to normal.

"Fuck, that was beautiful," Din murmured. "You're beautiful. Oh Maker, you're so beautiful."

Din wasn't sure what was happening to him but he couldn't stop talking. Every thought, praises, rambling, absolute nonsense, that crossed his mind left his mouth, completely out of his control. You giggled, your own cock drunk brain unable to comprehend little else other than how sweet his soft grin was or how he had only one dimple on his left cheek.

"I'm going to just fall asleep like this if that's alright with you," Din said, rolling you over onto your side so he could pull the covers over the two of you and hold you. You giggled again as he rested his chin on the top of your head and you buried your face in his chest, letting his warmth wrap around you. "And then I'm never leaving."

Though he said the words lightly, it was difficult to ignore the finality they carried, so you deflected. "Didn't you promise Zena you would train with her in the morning?"

Din groaned at the reminder. "I did, didn't I?"

When you didn't respond, he looked down at your face. Your eyes had closed softly and your breath was deepening, sleep starting to tug at the edges of your brain. You hadn't realized how tired you were until you were hunkered down, feeling the security of Din's fingers pressed against your back, the rising and falling of his chest lulling you into a sense of safety.

Din pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, believing you to be asleep, but needing to say these next words anyway, needing to make up somehow the failures of your grandfather.

"I know I won't always be around. I can't always stay. But I'll always come back. I promise."

*Read Next Part*

[lupinsx]

Petty Rivals

masterlist

Request: Hii💓 I absolutely adore your writing! Could you maybe write one where the reader is a slytherin and she’s on the quidditch team, and she has a sort of rivalry with Draco (on and off the pitch lol) and she gets severely injured during one of the matches and Draco is surprisingly really worried about her because she got really hurt? Sorry about my english haha :) Thank you!!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: You and Draco hate each other, always competing in sports and academics. An injury to your head might just be enough for him to put aside their petty rivalry.

Word Count: 2.4k

part two

a/n — Thank you for the request! I apologize for how long this took, it's been a busy week for me. I hope you enjoy it! (UPDATE: Part two is up! Click the link above to read Hopeless Romantics).

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"Hey Y/N, quick question, are Chasers usually this slow?"

You stopped in your tracks and whipped your head towards the direction of the voice. Draco Malfoy stood arrogantly next to his broomstick, arms crossed with a smirk on his face making your blood boil.

You were on the stands, approaching your water bottle as the rest of the team took a break. It's been an hour of practice, and so far, all Draco did was catch the Golden Snitch a couple times before resuming his observations. You knew such boredom would lead to him over analyzing your every move, but you had underestimated to which extent.

Rolling your eyes in irritation, you responded with a sneer, "I don't know, are Seekers usually this useless?"

There was a chorus of groans coming from the seats where the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team sat. They were sick of you two arguing every chance you could — admittedly, everyone was.

Ignoring the annoyed glares coming from the team, Draco strided towards you with a mocking chuckle. "Very funny, but you're gonna have to keep up with the rest if you want to stay on the team."

"I don't see Flint trying to kick me out anytime soon."

"Don't be too sure about that, Y/N."

"Why you insolent little git!"

You and Draco stood inches apart, ears tuned out to the comments from your teammates. He was only slightly taller than you, making him tilt his chin up to hold an intimidating stance. You merely held his glare with an equally harsh look.

After a moment of silence and thick tension, Marcus Flint stood up and held your collars back to separate you two. While Draco sent you a sly smirk, you kept your glare directed at him.

"As amusing as this petty rivalry is, it's getting quite annoying. Bring this attitude to the pitch on Saturday and I'll have no trouble bringing in substitutes."

"You heard him, Y/N, don't be annoying," Draco teased, making you reach your arm to slap the back of his head. As he hissed in pain, Flint glared daggers at you two, releasing his grip as he walked away in defeat. It seemed like nobody could get you two to stop.

"Practice dismissed, I'm done with you guys," Flint announced in exasperation. The rest of the team was quick to follow after.

Rolling your eyes, you walked to the railing and picked up your broom. "You can leave now, I'm going to stay to practice."

"No, I'm staying to practice!"

Neither of you ended up staying to practice that day.

~~~

"The cuts are supposed to be diagonal, not vertical!"

"I'm sorry Draco, I'm trying."

"Try harder then."

You let out a frustrated groan and rolled your eyes in annoyance. It was hard enough that you were paired with Draco for Potions, but he couldn't make it any more bearable.

Taking a deep breath to calm your anger, you resumed cutting, this time trying to abide by his directions. Though, it didn't take long before he snatched the knife from your grip and began cutting it himself.

"It's this simple. Seriously, how have you managed to survive in this class?" he asked with a condescending sneer. It took all of your might not to hex him into oblivion at that moment.

Your hands balled into tight fists as you looked up at him in irritation. Jaw clenched and teeth gritted, you muttered, "I've managed quite fine, thank you very much."

"Hmph, I doubt it," Draco said very cockily while he added the cut fluxweed into the cauldron. You hated people looking down on you, talking as if they were your superior. You had enough of that throughout your lifetime; you didn't need Draco to put you down further.

When it came to Quidditch, you were able to withstand the constant teasing and give a couple insults yourself. You were already assured and confident in your skill, so the meaningless comments never got to you. But when it came to Potions, you were never the best at it. It was one of your weakest subjects, so you felt hurt when the best student in the class spoke so lowly of your abilities.

Without regard to the furious expression on your face, he continued in a mockingly high-pitched tone, speaking as if you were a child, "Now, would you like me to cut the knotgrass for you too or do you think you can handle it yourself?"

It was at this moment when your thinning patience broke.

Slamming your fist onto the table, you glared at him with all your strength. He looked shocked for a moment while the rest of your classmates suddenly tuned in to the commotion.

"Stop treating me like a baby! It was a small mistake, I'm sorry. But I don't need you acting like an condescending asshole because of it."

It was a relief that Professor Snape wasn't present to witness your outburst, but it wouldn't have mattered to you anyways. Grabbing your bag, you stormed out of the room, making sure to slam the door on your way out.

Draco avoided the gaze of his classmates and continued working on the potion, but he couldn't ignore the sharp pang of guilt he felt in his heart.

~~~

For the rest of the week, you were adamant on ignoring Draco. He would often look up and prepare to approach you whenever you'd enter a shared class, but you were skillful in avoiding him. Too many teachers walked in at just the right moment for it to be a mere coincidence.

Once Saturday rolled in, you were quick to enter the Great Hall. You timed your morning so that you'd be done your breakfast by the time the rest of the Slytherins arrived. Thankfully, your plan worked accordingly, as you were just finishing up your plate when the dining hall began getting populated.

Upon noticing Draco alongside the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team arrive through the door, you got up and prepared to leave.

"Y/N! Gone so soon?" Pansy Parkinson asked, jogging to your side. You gave her a shrug and an apologetic smile as your pushed open the exit.

"Sorry, need to clear my head before the game," you said, not feeling as sorry for lying. She nodded and flashed you an encouraging smile, one that you returned kindly before leaving the Great Hall.

You immediately headed towards the pitch, wanting to begin warming up on your own before the team arrives. Walking through the soft grass, you closed your eyes and simply took in the sunlight. It was a beautiful day, and you were fortunate to be able to spend it playing Quidditch.

You loved the sport, ever since you were seven years old. When your dad bought you a mini broomstick that levitates two feet off the floor, you absolutely hated having to get off it at the end of the day. Once you were finally able to get your hands on a real one at age ten, you felt as though you finally found your true calling. It was a sweet moment, and you found yourself smiling softly at the thought.

As you listened to the birds chirp in the distance and relied on your muscle memory to bring you to the pitch, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and lightly jerk you back. Your eyes flew open in shock, only to be met with a pair of stormy grey ones staring back at you.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, keeping his grip on your wrist. You fought the urge to suddenly accept his apology, reminding yourself of how he was acting earlier into the week.

You rolled your eyes and slipped your wrist out of his enclosed palm. "Yeah, and?"

He blinked at you for a moment, not expecting your icy response. Then, Draco's face twisted into an annoyed expression, diverting his eyes from yours. "Well fine then, can't say I didn't try to apologize."

"You're unbelievable!"

"And you're insanely entitled!"

"You—" you suddenly paused you sentence, noticing your teammates coming out through the doors. Remembering what Flint said last practice, you bit your tongue back and simply stormed off with a glare. You didn't want to sit out the game for the sake of a mere barb.

The locker room felt tense for you two after that. You refused to glance at him while the team captain gave his brief speech. When you all huddled in for a cheer, you relocated upon seeing him by your side. It was a relief you didnt have to work with Draco on the pitch; otherwise, you would have gladly accepted a substitute.

With your brooms mounted and teams in position, you all flew into the air, ready for the game to commence. As the whistle blew, you immediately rushed into action.

It was a relatively successful game so far. Slytherin maintained a lead by a couple points, but the opponents, Ravenclaw, was always quick to catch up. Though you were able to score quite a bit for the team, you were beginning to feel a little tired.

"Y/N, keep up with them!" you heard being shouted from afar. Briefly glancing to the voice, you weren't surprised to see it was Draco who called out to you.

Of course, at a time like this he still wouldn't quit.

You continued flying alongside the other Chasers, staying in the formation that was planned. You managed to gain a few more points through this, but it still wasn't a very sizable difference.

"90-70! Slytherin is in the lead, Ravenclaw close behind."

"Won't be leading for long if you keep flying at this pace," Draco said, swooping down lower to meet your level. He left before you could respond, but you chose not to react and instead focus on the game in front of you.

Eventually, you noticed Ravenclaw gain possession of the Quaffle, grabbing your attention. You immediately flew to the Chaser, merely a little over an arm's length away from reaching for the ball.

You extended your arm as far as you could. Flew as fast as your broom could handle. You were so close to grabbing the Quaffle. So painfully close.

"Y/N!"

Draco's voice took you out of your zone. He was shouting for you once again, most likely to insult you as he has been throughout the game. You snapped your head towards him in fury, only to see him rapidly pointing behind you with wide eyes.

What does that even mean?

You soon found out when a large Bludger came hurling towards your head, knocking you off your broom. A chorus of gasps was heard from the audience as you began free-falling down to the field.

It was terrifying. It felt like gravity had a tight grip on your entire body as it pulled you down seemingly faster than the speed of light. Your eyes were squeezed shut in fear, head pounding from the hit, body laid limp and nearly unconscious. Death itself seemed a mere moment away.

Until suddenly, a broomstick came swooping down, attempting to reach you fast enough to prevent a harsh landing. Draco's eyebrows were furrowed in determination as he extended his arm towards your figure.

And just as you were about to share a less than pleasant kiss with the grass, Draco caught you by your collar, before grabbing the back of your knees to hold you bridal style. He then landed on his feet, still carrying your semi-unconscious body in his arms.

"Pause the game! Someone bring Madam Pomfrey!" shouted Madam Hooch, exiting her position in the stands to go over to you guys.

The Slytherin Quidditch team flew lower to see what's going on, along with a couple curious Ravenclaw players. It was a relief to them that you didn't hit the ground, but the impact from the Bludger was enough to knock you out.

As Madam Pomfrey came rushing onto the pitch, Draco refused to let go of your body. He was visibly shaking, worry evident in his eyes and uneven breath. He was so close to losing you, and the mere thought of that scared him.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may let her go now. I'm going to take her to do some examinations in the hospital wing," the witch said calmly, giving Draco a reassuring smile. "Don't worry; she's in good hands."

Draco still looked hesitant, keeping a tight grip on your body. "I'll carry her there."

Without hearing his suggestion, Marcus Flint flew down to the grass to approach him. He glanced at your unconscious body with a concerned expression before looking back up to Draco.

"Draco, come back up. We need our Seeker. For now, we'll bring in a substitute for Y/N," Flint said, giving him a small pat on his upper back. Draco immediately shook his head in refusal.

"No, I'm taking her to the hospital wing."

"Whoa, where did this change of attitude come from?" Draco merely rolled his eyes in response, walking away with you in his arms. Madam Pomfrey was quick to follow after, keeping a close eye on your condition.

He carried you all the way into the castle, and towards the hospital wing. Upon arriving at the bed, he laid you down gently, careful not to cause any further pain. You remained asleep throughout the entire process.

"Will she be alright?" Draco asked impatiently, his gaze directed to your still figure. His hand made his way to your forehead, delicately caressing the area you got hit.

Sending another grin his way, Madam Pomfrey nodded in assurance. Draco stepped away for a couple minutes for her to properly treat you. It was painful for him, watching how your eyes would squeeze tighter every once in a while despite being unconscious. He wanted to take away your pain away, to have prevented your injury earlier. But he couldn't. And it killed him inside.

"You look awfully worried," Madam Pomfrey said jokingly as she turned around to grab a vial. Her words broke Draco out of his brief trance. Looking down, a small blush appeared in his cheeks.

"Of course I am, I'm her—" he suddenly cut himself off. I'm her what? Friend? Enemy? Petty rival?

He didn't know what he was. All he knew was that he desperately wanted you to be okay.

Petty rivals it is, then.

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a/n — Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or reblog to give feedback or show support! Requests are open, so feel free to send what you'd like to see written to my inbox!

[jokerfan99]

Insult to Injury (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

On the Blue Base's roof

Church: The fuck are they doing over there?

He's right, what on Earth are the Red's doing. Through his rifle's scope, he sees the Reds building something on their roof what appears to be, a signboard?! First the stink formula, now this? Who's giving them these stupid ideas anyway? Hey don't look at me, I'm just the narrator!

Caboose: Hello!

Out of the blue, no pun intended, Caboose pops up into Church's view.

Church: Aaaaah! Goddammit, don't scare me like that! Caboose: Sorry. Whatcha watching? Church: Check this out.

Church gives Caboose a peak through the scope.

Church: I don't know what they're building, but it looks like a signboard. Caboose: Signboard? Aww, not another highway advertisement! Church: Who knows what they're using it for. My guess is Sarge just wanted to write something to mock us, that's for sure. Caboose: Or maybe they're planning to advertise their products so that they can earn a quick profit. Church: What? Who the fuck would be buying their junk? Not us of course. Caboose: Maybe Sangheili's passing by in the atmosphere? Church: Guess we'll have to find out ourselves. By the way, what are you doing up here? Caboose: Oh right! I'm here to tell you that Weiss is awake! Hooray! Church: It's about time that Ice Queen wakes up. Here take the rifle, I'm going to have word with her. Caboose: Uhm, Church, what about me? Church: I don't know just... spy on the Red's construction I guess. Call me out if anything new comes up.

At the Blue Base, Weiss' Room

I'm never going near another trash bin for a week. Weiss thought to herself as she takes another sip of her coffee, specially prepared by none other than Kaikaina. Weiss gotta hand it to the Grif, this is one hell of a caffeine.

Kaikaina: You want Dr. Kai to get you some meds? Weiss: No no, I'm perfectly fine. No need to concern yourselves over me. I've been through worse situations before. Tucker: Schnee, you passed out since yesterday! I doubt you're still fine. Kaikaina: Yeah. Plus you even puke while you slept. Weiss: I beg your pardon? Kaikaina: Nothing!

The door opens as Church enter to see Weiss fully recovered from her sixteen hour coma.

Church: Good to see the Snow White has awaken from her deathly slumber. Tell me, did the 'Prince of the Holy Sword' kiss you? Tucker: Wha-? No way I wouldn't do that while a chick's old cold! Though I would if she wants to... do you, baby?

SMASH!!!

Weiss hits Tucker with her mug, shattering it in the process. Even with his helmet on, he somehow felt the pain in the side of his head.

Tucker: OW! I was just saying! Weiss: At least learn how to shut that perverted mouth of yours, Lavernius! Hmph. Church: Not as perverted as suggesting a tight bikini wrestling match yesterday. Weiss: *shiver* Don't bring up that idea again. Tucker: So, Church. I'm guessing this isn't just to check up on her, is it? Church: Nope. In fact I'm here to talk about her fight with the Red yesterday. Tucker: Oh that one. Man it was awesome! Church: I'm not talking about that! From what I saw, she and that Red seem know each other. Is that right, Schnee?

Everybody turn their heads to Weiss.

Weiss: I don't want to talk about it. Church: Well too bad, we are going to talk about it whether you like it or not. So what were you two before, best friends? Tucker: Rivals? Kaikaina: Lovers?

Everybody looks at Kai.

Kaikaina: What, was I really the only one thinking that when they were fighting? Tucker: Speaking of lovers, were you two bisexu- Church: Shut the fuck up Tucker! Look just explain from the beginning, don't care how long, just say it. Weiss: ... Fine if that's to prevent you guys from asking me again and again in the future, so be it. Did I told you guys about the a military academy I studied at before I came to Blood Gulch? Everyone: No. Weiss: Of course. Anyways, me and... that girl, were for a lack for a better word, partners. Kaikaina: Hell yeah, I knew you guys were lovers! Church: She's not referring to that kind of 'partnership'! Weiss: Our relationship was somewhat great if you could say that. Not the brightest girls I know, but she was alright once you get to know her more. Kaikaina: Kinda reminds me of this girl I knew before coming here. Tucker: She a friend? Kaikaina: Nah we fucked, literally. Tucker: Woo baby! Weiss: Would you mind? Tucker: Sorry. Church: So how did your relationship go downhill? Weiss: Oh you would not believe what I've been through. One day, we were posted at this base on a planetoid as part of our final assignment. I think it's called Amity. Anyways the job was simple, follow your superior's orders and make sure no unathorized personal gets in. Everything was fine for the first week. Soldiers talking around, complaining about the weather, you name it. Tucker: Is it me, or does this story sounded familiar? Church: Shh! Weiss: Me and my partner weren't together most of the time there cause we were given two different orders. She patrols around the base while I sit in the server room, keeping away not only unauthorized intruders but 'undisciplined' hands as well. I mean who would be watching porn in a state of the art archive machine? Not only are they disgusting like Tucker,- Tucker: Hey! Weiss: -but they have arrogantly ignore their duties and- Church: Schnee? Hate to remind you but, this isn't a therapy session. Weiss: Sorry. Anyway, I kept away undisciplined hands from the server room.

Transition fade to flashback

Amity guard 01: Oh come on honey, just one download. Pleeeeaaaassee! Weiss: No. Amity guard 02: Look kid. There's nothing to do but standing around here and talk all day. Some of us have already died of boredom! Weiss: And since when did that happen, 'sir'? Amity guard 02: Uhm... last Tuesday. Weiss: That incident? He didn't die of boredom! He just slipped and broke his neck upon impact. Plus he's still alive! I can't believe you all here. You're supposed to be soldiers fighting for your government and still you act like conscripts from the past! Amity guard 01: Hey don't blame us, blame human nature.

And that's when the base shooked. Space pirates. One of the guards I talked to started panicking.

Amity guard 02: OH MY GOD, WE'RE BEING ATTACKED! WE'RE DOOMED!!!

Every guard in the room rushed out until the commander called me. He ordered me to collect all the data to prevent them from falling into enemy hands, so I did what I was told. Once I got the data, I was to rendezvous at the landing bays to be evacuated. On the way to the bay, I came across my partner along with some guy she's carrying over he shoulders.

Weiss: Ruby, what's going on? Ruby: I don't know! Some guys just came out of nowhere and start blowing up the place. Command ordered us to fight back before reinforcements arrive. Weiss: Well go and stop them. Ruby: We can't! These guys are heavily armed and we're loosing a lot of men! Our top priority now is getting everybody out of here! Weiss: Command's new orders? Ruby: Nope. Weiss: Then who's order is that? Ruby: Uhm... mine? Weiss: WHAT?! Ruby: Look just help us out and we'll explain to command later. Weiss: I can't, I have to get out of here! I'm carrying the base's data and is highly important that I evacuate immediately. Ruby: What?! What about everyone here? We can't just leave them to die here!

That's when I got shot in the arm. My partner started fighting the intruders back while I run off to the landing bays to keep the data safe. It was miracle the landing bay wasn't attacked yet and so I manage to escape safely. The data was secured but the base, not so much. We've lost half our men that day and everything stored there was either looted or destroyed.

Transition slide out of flashback

Tucker: So... what happened afterwards? Did you get a medal? Weiss: I did. They gave me a Colonial Cross for my bravery. But after what happenedback there... sigh... I didn't manage to get the scores I needed. THANKS TO HER THAT IS! Church: Is that why you're pissed at her? The scores? Weiss: You have no idea how important it was to get those scores and our pride! If she hadn't just followed her orders and stop those pirates. Things would've gone smoothly! But nooooooooooooo! She just had to disobey her orders and started evacuating people as many as possible. If she had rally them to fight instead, everything would've gone different! DAMN HER! I'M GLAD SHE DIDN'T GET A MEDAL OF HONOR! AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S WORST? SHE CALLED ME A DESERTER. DESERTER! I WAS ONLY DOING MY DUTY! ARRRGH! I'm sorry I got carried away again. Once I recovered my wounds, she renounced our partnership right at my face! Well that's good for me. Hmph! Church: *whistle* This is a lot like my relationship with Tex. So what will you do now that you and her saw one another? Weiss: Something I've should have done long after we split. DESTROY HER!

Weiss pulls off her most angry face, but not as fierce Ruby's demonic anger but still... *Suspenseful stinger music*

Weiss: Nonono, that method is just too simple. Hmmmmm... or maybe!... nonono, torture's too barbaric. Tucker: Wow she really is pissed with that Red. Church, if you're still pissed at Tex, would you guys try to forgive each other? Church: Yeah right! That bitch isn't the type of girl to say 'sorry' to anyone, even me! Kaikaina: Plus she's a Red. Tucker: And your brother? Kaikaina: Wha? I won't kill him. Weiss: But he's a Red. Caboose: Psst! Church?

Church hears Caboose's voice as everyone else were busy talking to each other. He turns to see the private peeking behind the door. Wonder why he isn't coming inside, no matter at least he may have some update on the Red's construction. He leaves the room and hears what Caboose has got to say.

Church: What's the update on the Reds? Caboose: Oh it's fine, but it's just... let's not let Weiss see it. Church: Why? Caboose: Well the thing is... do you know those times when teenagers drew something about their teacher just to mock them? Church: Yeah kids have become total assholes these days. Wait what does this got to do with the sign... Caboose:... Church: ...You're not saying what I think you're saying? Caboose: Weiss won't like it! She'll cry if she sees it! Church: Why would she cry... look wait here and give me back my sniper rifle. I'm going to take a look at it myself.

Church leaves Caboose and heads straight to the roof. With him gone, it's time for our beloved Caboose to check on Weiss.

Caboose: Hi, Weiss! Weiss: Hey, Michael. Where's Church? Caboose: Oh he just needed to take a potty. A potty! Hehehe. Weiss: At least he should tell before he left... so you're saying you won't kill your brother? Kaikaina: Duh we're family! If Mom finds out I shot him, I'd be in serious trouble. Tucker: How is she gonna find out? It's not like she's can hear her son's scream light years away, that's physically impossible. Kaikaina: Actually she can. Tucker: Wait she can- Caboose, you okay buddy? Caboose: What? Tucker: Dude, you're staring at the ceiling. Is there something wrong? Caboose: Nothing! Nothing involving the Reds and Weiss won't have to be devastated. Church from the roof: Pfft-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Caboose: Uh oh. Kaikaina: Holy shit! What is that?! Tucker: Giant hyenas? Weiss: As if! Get out, I need to change immediately!

On the Blue Base's roof

The Blues arrived to the scene to see Church collapsed on the floor. He is laughing uncontrollably like a madman from an asylum, why is he laughing? This put a lot of confusion to the Blues, except Caboose who knows what Church has seen at the Red Base.

Weiss: Church, what are you laughing at? Church: Oh Schnee, you're here. Hehehe... nothing to worry about, there's totally nothing to see... pfft! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HOHOHOHAHAAAAA!!! Tucker: Is Church alright? Caboose: Oh yes, he's alright! He's... uh... infected with laughing disease. Very contagious but not lethal. Tucker: Laughing disease? I've never heard of it before. Caboose: That's cause you're dumb!

Weiss, curious to see what's on the enemy base, take out her binos and see this signboard. To her disgust, the first thing she sees through the binos was a familiar red colored rifle and brunette hair look straight at her. Ruby is looking back at her. She lowers her gun to reveal her angry expression before pointing at something out of the bino's vision. Weiss zooms out and finally sees the 'so-called' signboard and something drawn on it. The first sight of it widened her eyes. It was a drawing her except... it doesn't match her beautiful petite physique. The drawing of her is an ugly round doodle with the writing, 'BIG FAT MEANIE' next atop. As if she really looks like that! Then there's another drawing of three stickmen with stink-lines above them, still being drawn by Donut, with the title friends is added above them. This must be represent Ruby, and her two other teammates. Oh my she's gone too far.

Caboose: Oh no. Weiss seen it. Tucker: Seen what? Church: Hahaha! Take a look.

Tucker looks through the sniper's scope and starts to instantly laughing upon seeing the signboard.

Tucker: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Big fat meanie! HAHAHAHAHA, that's priceless! Kaikaina: Big fat meanie? Let me see.

Kaikaina gets the same results.

Kaikaina: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Tucker: I know right? HAHAHAHA! Caboose: Uhm, guys? Weiss is still here. Church: HAHAHA- Son of a bitch. Tucker: HA- Oh fuck me. Kaikaina: HAHA- Whoops.

Weiss was standing still. She may have heard the commotion behind. The first thing that came in the Blues' head is Weiss screaming at them like the banshee she is till their ears popped and bleed. However to their relief she still keeps her composure.

Caboose: Weiss? Are you okay? Weiss: Get the rocket launcher. Caboose: Okay. Church: Hold on, what are you doing? Weiss: Giving her an example not to mess with me.

At the Red Base

Grif: Will you hurry up? This isn't Ancient Renaissance! Donut: Patience. Art need to be clean and refine, so you can't rush it. Grif: I doubt that's art. Sarge: This ought to give that psychological attack to that Blue. Once she sees this, the guilt will force into her and break her from the inside. Ruby: Thanks, Sarge. You didn't have to do this for me. Sarge: Ah don't mention it. And besides, what that Blue did is UNACCEPTABLE! Hehehe, I wonder what kind of reaction that Blue's going to get when she see this. Simmons: Sir. I think you take a look a this. Sarge: Looks like she's pissed off already.

Ruby and Sarge approached Simmons who had been looking at the Blue base. Simmons hand the rifle to Sarge and the rough Sargeant looks through the scope to see the results of the deserter. To his disappointment, Weiss hasn't gone barmy and it looks like she just fired a rocket... A ROCKET?!

Sarge: CRAZY COWBOY ON A NUCLEAR BOMB, GET DOWN!!!

Everybody ducked following a loud WHOOSH passing them by. That was close! Had that rocket hit the concrete, it would've cause a lot of dama- never mind. The drawing, which Donut had worked so much on, is now a large ripped hole!

Donut: NOOOOOOO!!! I haven't painted it yet! Ruby: GGRRRR... WEISSSS!!! Sarge: Dagnabbit, you destructive vandals! You may have spared the signboard but you should never have taken out the drawing!

Back at the Blue Base

That shot put a smile on Weiss. Sure the rocket didn't exploded as predicted, but at least the rocket got rid of the tarp.

Weiss: That's what you get, Rose. Okay so who's up for breakfast? Everyone but Church: Me!

Caboose, Tucker and Kaikaina rush down the stairs, leaving Weiss and Church alone on the roof.

Weiss: Did I just provoked the Reds and caused another attack? Church: Kind of, though I doubt most of them have the mood to attack today. Heh, you know you sure kinda remind me of Tex. Weiss: Who? Church: My girlfriend. The way you acted and talked is somewhat like her, except she more of a crazy bitch than you. Weiss: Girlfriend huh? I don't hear you talking to anyone through the lines. Church: That's cause she's dead. Weiss: Oh... I'm... sorry. I didn't mean to. Church: Nah it's alright. We broke up a long time ago. Sigh, I still miss our arguments. But enough of that, let's get some grub. So you can cook? Weiss: A bit. My butler back home taught me a thing or two about making steak. If you got the meat of course. Church: Well hate to break it you, but we only have canned food. Wait you're rich?! Weiss: Yeah but not the life you'd expect.

A/N: That's the end of this story arc, now that you know why Ruby and Weiss now hate each other. Sorry it couldn't be longer.

[looselucy]

The Forgotten Family

February 10th Harry had hold of my hand under the table, thumb circling over my skin, acting innocent as we sat waiting for our food at PJ’s, enjoying a bright Sunday morning with Niall and Lincoln.

I was enjoying being so sly with him. Before, our secret had been locked within our homes, rarely pushing boundaries or acting at all suspiciously when we were out in public. I liked that we were now holding hands and our friends who were right there with us were none the wiser. “So how was your date last night?” I asked Niall. “C’mon. I wanna hear the gory details.” “Y’know what, it actually went well.” “What?” Lin cried. “Why do you sound so shocked?” “I don’t think you’ve ever been on a date that’s gone well!” He cried. “You usually come back with some hideous story and never see them again.” “Fair point.” Niall looked both smug and coy. “Oh shit.” Harry piped up. “You got laid.” “No I didn’t!” Niall cried. “Yeah you did, you got laid. I can see it in your devious little eyes. You got a shag.” Me and Lin waited for Niall to confirm it, Harry absolutely sure of what he was saying, and the look on Niall’s face seemed to say he was onto something. As we waited, our food arrived, our Full English Breakfasts being placed in front of us, Harry saying thank you on our behalf as me and Lin waited with wide mouths, whereas Niall was just smirking. “That’s the face of a man who got laid.” Harry said after giving my hand and squeeze before letting go and taking hold of his cutlery, ready to tuck in. “C’mon. Admit it.” “Fine. I did. You can see right through me.” He admitted. “Niall, what the fuck?” I squealed. “Tell us everything! I want details.” “Well, I was the bottom, and he-” “NO, not those details!” I stopped him quickly, Lin and Harry almost choking on their food as they laughed. “Just like… how the date went, how it all came to be. I don’t need… those details, thank you.” “We went out for food and then… It just went really well, and it’s been a long fucking time since I had a shag. He invited me to his for a nightcap and it just happened. Natural.” “Nice, man.” Lin spoke between mouthfuls. “So are you gunna see him again?” “Maybe not in a romantic way, but for sex, probably.” “I get that. There are very few chances of getting laid in Rosebury. It’s a downfall.” “Don’t you date?” Harry asked Lin. “Date who, exactly?” Lin sniggered. “Fair point.” Harry laughed with him. “But like… what Niall does. Someone from the next village over, or whatever.” “But Niall likes his dating apps and stuff, he’s good at that shit. I wanna meet someone in a really… organic way, as pretentious as that sounds. With apps and stuff, I feel like it’s forced and all about appearances and shit. I dunno, it just doesn’t appeal to me. I’d rather just meet someone, but it’s so rare. Can’t win.” I understood that completely, and I thought I would likely be the same if I was in his situation. Dating in a small village like ours was almost impossible. It was such a small area, a loving and familiar place; we knew old married couples and small businesses and everyone knowing everyone, and I suppose those ideals reflected in us across a lot of different aspects of our lives. “Yeah, I get that.” Harry accepted. “How’re you finding it?” Lin asked. “What?” “Being here. The lack of… options.” “Lin’s asking if you’re sexually frustrated.” Niall put it bluntly. “I was trying to be tactful about it,” Lin rolled his eyes. “But yeah, pretty much. It’s not like there’s a lot of options here, and I imagine you were doing pretty well for yourself in… the bedroom… before you moved here.” “He’s saying you’re sexy.” Niall put it bluntly once again. “Niall, you do not need to keep talking on my behalf. I’m sure Harry is perfectly capable of understanding what I’m getting at.” Lin chuckled. “He’s asking if you wanna fuck anyone.” Niall ignored him still, talking directly to Harry until Lin punched his arm, and then he backed down. “Maybe Harry doesn’t wanna discuss this stuff.” I tried. “There’s not much to discuss.” Harry shrugged it off casually. “I guess I haven’t thought about it too much. I’m not really… into dating, I never have been.” “I guess that helps.” Lin answered sensibly. “I bet you’re into shagging though.” Niall didn’t. “You’re not one for approaching things tactfully, are ya?” Harry laughed. “Never.” “Can we stop talking about sex over breakfast, please?” I asked, really wanting to avoid the conversation, then deciding to make the most of it. “It’s been ages since I had sex.” “Same.” Lin agreed. “Yup.” Harry lied along with us rather weakly. “Less than twelve hours for me.” Niall was ridiculously smug. “Be jealous.” Harry nudged my knee with his beneath the table, because it had actually been less than an hour since the two of us had had sex, so there was really no need for us to be jealous. I dropped my head, quickly trying to hide my smile by eating, nudging Harry back. I loved spending time with everyone. My friends were my world, and any time I could spend with them was a blessing, but at the same time, I was enjoying my alone time with Harry so much that even then, a few bites into our breakfast, I was already looking forward to being back at his place. We tucked in, thankfully no longer talking about sex, though I was definitely thinking about it. The bell for the front door chimed, my eyes instinctively shooting upwards, seeing Tom let himself into PJ’s, spotting us right away. We never saw much of him, really, especially without Sam by his side. He kept himself to himself and was the total opposite of a social butterfly, so it’d been months since I’d last seen him. I knew it wouldn’t be the best atmosphere. “Alright.” He greeted us awkwardly. “Alright, Tom.” Niall was the only one of us to answer. He was just about to walk past us to go to the counter, but then he stopped, right beside our table, right next to Harry, looking down to him and sniggering arrogantly, before he slowly moved on. Harry rolled his eyes and his shoulders, Lin looking over our heads so he could continue to scowl at Tom. “Fuck him, mate. Pay him no attention.” He huffed. “He’s always been an arrogant little prick that one. He’ll be on Sam’s side no matter what.” “But if he knew why I’d done it-” “He will know why.” I interrupted Harry. “But he’s a sexist fucking prick. He will not care. He’ll honestly think it was Sam putting me in my place, he won’t think anything of it, I’m telling you. The boy isn’t worth the breath.” “Don’t say that shit, Alfie.” He was losing himself in his own frustration. “I’ll get fucking worked up. Don’t tell me he’s like that because I’ll lose my head.” “I don’t know why we ever put up with him.” Lin groaned. We’d all put with him because I’d been with Sam, and I knew that. It was so strange looking back on my whole relationship with Sam and realising just how toxic it had been, and it wasn’t restricted to me. I hated that. I looked southwards, only able to feel down for a matter of moments, before my friends did what they always did and picked me right back up, even without meaning to. “Remember when Louis kicked him in the balls?” Niall tried to hold in his sniggers. “What?” Harry whelped, also holding in laughter. “Why’d he do that?” “He made a shit comment about my dreads.” Lin told him, tense over the memory at first before he thought of the aftermath, then he smiled. “Louis just went at him, without a second thought. As soon as he’d said it, it was like a magnet.” “He was almost sick, it was fucking hilarious.” Niall laughed. “Louis’ a fucking legend.” Harry sniggered. We all started laughing, and I looked over my shoulder to gage Tom, let him know that it was him we were laughing at, seeing how uncomfortable and uneasy he looked. He knew we were laughing specifically at him but he had no idea why and I loved it. He’d tried to make Harry feel small, and it had only wound him up for a couple of seconds before we’d gained the upper hand again. Not only that, we’d calmed Harry down, and that was important too. I think we were good for Harry. Even better than I knew.

“How is she?” I asked my dad down the phone, sat in Harry’s kitchen watching him make us a meal. “Not great. She had a big anxiety attack yesterday. She didn’t know who or where she was, completely freaked out.” “Shit. Is she okay? Are you okay?” “It was rough for a while, but it wasn’t too long until they’d gotten her sat down and then… she forgot that, too. She’s okay now, I suppose, just very quiet. Hasn’t spoken to me properly for a while now.” “Dad, are you okay?” I asked again. I couldn’t help but be concerned for him and his happiness. Every single day he was in emotionally taxing circumstances, exhausting and agonising conditions that must have been chipping away at him, no matter how slowly and no matter how strong he was, how strong their love was. He was such a positive person, but I knew how tired he must have been, how hard it would be to see the woman he loved disappearing before his eyes more and more every day. I just felt like he didn’t have anyone there looking after him, and he needed it. He might not have known it, but he needed support and strength from someone else and he could hardly accept it. There was only so much I could do from Rosebury, and I’d never been good at removing myself from the situation so I could simply be there for him. I struggled too. “I’m fine, Fee. Don’t worry about me.” “I can’t not, I just… It’s a lot for one person to take on, dad. That’s a lot for one person to handle.” “I’m used to it. I’ve been here for almost five years now.” “That’s my point.” I dropped my head into my hand, wishing there was a way that he could be fully happy, but it didn’t seem like it existed. If he wasn’t with her, he’d be unhappy, but being with her so much clearly wasn’t healthy for his heart. I thought maybe it would be better if he found some kind of middle ground, where he could give himself a break for a few days of the week, do something else and be somewhere else and get back into hobbies he’d once had, but after four years of the same routine, I felt like even that would be too much of a change for him to feel comfortable with. “Will you please come and see me soon?” I asked, trying to stop myself from crying. “But-” “You could bring her too, I dunno.” I tried. “If that’s what it takes, bring her. But you need to… get outside and do something different. Please, dad. Please.” “If she could leave the house that easily, I wouldn’t live here in the first place. To take her out for the day, I’d need a specialist nurse to be with us at all times, and that costs money, Fee! I can’t afford that right now.” “I will find the money, if that’s what you need. We’ll figure it out. But… I dunno, I really feel like you need a break. Give yourself a break, I promise it’ll do you so much good.” Harry left the food to approach me, leaning across the counter to pull my hand away from my head and push his fingers between mine, holding tight. My dad was quiet for some time, unsure what to say. I knew he was wonderful for what he did for my mother, but sometimes being selfish is showing your own heart the love it deserves when it can’t be offered by others, and he’d stopped doing that at some point. He'd been so busy taking care of her that he’d forgotten how important it was to take care of himself. I could tell he didn’t have a clue what to say, and I didn’t want to pressure him or fill him with guilt, so I decided to end the conversation, give him some space to consider what I was saying. “Just do me a favour and think about it, okay?” I sounded as defeated as I felt. “We could walk up Traits Hill, I could show you how the shop is, we could go to The Railway and just… have a day or two doing really nice stuff that we used to do. I think it’d do you a world of good, so just think about it.” “Okay, I will.” “Promise?” “I promise.” “Alright. Speak soon.” “Take care, speak soon.” I hung up and dropped my phone on the counter, chest aching, mind racing, now using my other hand to hide and prop up my face as Harry continued to squeeze the other, still looking at me. “Just keep pushing.” He encouraged. “If you don’t drop it, he’ll have to come back at some point.” “It’s just frustrating.” “I know.” “He can’t accept that it’d be good for him. He just can’t do it.” “I know, I feel your frustration, but… it’s hard, y’know… when people get into routines like that. All he needs to do is break it once, and he’ll see how good it is.” “I just don’t know how to get him to that point, he’s so stubborn.” I groaned, moving my hand and looking at him. “It’s shit because I’m finally at this stage where I feel better, and it’s like I’m trying to find this way where my family can be at its best and be happy, but it feels fucking impossible.” “Mm.” He dropped his head, seeming reflective somehow. I kept my eyes on him, witnessing him disappear into his own head, quite obviously thinking about my words and aligning them with his own situation. I bit at my lip, still unsure of his boundaries and whether he needed a push or if I should just wait it out, wait until he was ready and he spoke off his own back, but I worried I’d be waiting forever. “You wanna talk?” I asked calmly. “No.” He replied swiftly. “You sure?” He let go of my hand, nodding slightly as he headed back over to finish cooking for us, his mood having changed rather rapidly. I had no intentions of pushing him; all I’d wanted him to know was that if and when he was ready to speak, I would listen. All I had wanted was for him to be aware that I would accept any section of his soul that he chose to share with me. I sighed, maybe a little too loudly, dropping my head and messing on my phone for a matter of seconds before he snapped. “Y’know it’s fucking weird,” He scowled miserably, abandoning the food once again. “The way you lot are with each other, how you share everything. It’s fucking weird, and not everyone is like that. Not everyone has to talk about what they’re going through and how they’re feeling all the fucking time with every single person.” “When did I ask you to do that, Harry?” “I’m just saying!” He carried on. “I don’t wanna talk about it, that’s way out of my fucking comfort zone, so leave it!” “I didn’t push it!” I cried, wishing I could have kept calm but his raised voice made that difficult. “All I did was offer, and if that is enough to make you flip at me like this, then fine, I won’t fucking offer again.” “Good, don’t. I don’t need to talk. I don’t need your help. Just drop it.” “Fine.” I felt awful. I hadn’t wanted him to feel that way, and suddenly I was questioning all of it. I was wondering if he actually had felt any better about opening up to me about his father or if I’d just told myself he did, convinced myself it had been good for him when actually he’d been feeling bitter about the whole thing. And I didn’t like arguing with him. I didn’t like seeing him worked up, because even at the times where I’d gotten worked up at him, he hadn’t gotten like that, like he was angry at me. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’d seen him angry, but I didn’t want to be the source of it. I understood it was all very sensitive for him, but I didn’t want to find myself in the firing line whenever the mere mention of families or being open came up in conversation. I had lost my appetite. I got up to my feet, through the door to the living room by the time he’d caught on. “Fee-Fee, what’re you doing?” He asked, sounding weary, already well aware it was him who’d driven me away. “M'not hungry, I’m just tired. I’m going for a nap.” “Please stay and eat with me.” “No.” I simply replied. I headed upstairs, hearing the clattering of cutlery as though he’d just thrown something in a outburst, but I didn’t want to stay downstairs and continue arguing with him, or put up with his annoyance. I knew this was all new to Harry, all of it. Not just the sharing himself, staying in one place and being so settled among a group of people, but even this sort of relationship we’d found ourselves in. I knew he didn’t know how things were meant to be or how to handle himself and the feelings he was experiencing, but he should have known under any circumstance that that was not the way to speak to anyone. I didn’t want him yelling at me and scowling, talking down to me and treating me like I’d really crossed a line when I couldn’t possibly know where the line was or what he considered crossing it. I went upstairs and climbed into bed, kidding myself if I genuinely thought I’d be able to sleep it all away.

The sun was bright, bursting through his bedroom window as it began to set, warming his room and softening the atmosphere. I lay reading, not having heard very much from Harry over the past hour or so, however long it had been. I thought he might leave it for the night, just to prove a point, but when he quietly pushed his bedroom door so it would creak open, I felt incredibly relieved. I hated being on bad terms with him. He stood in the doorway, chewing anxiously at his bottom lip at the same time as trying to shoot me an apologetic smile. I placed the book down. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I dunno why I snapped at you, I’m sorry.” “I don’t wanna argue with you, Harry. And I’m not trying to push you.” “I know.” He dropped his head. “It’s just… everything with my family is such a fucking mess. I get… I get kinda pent up about it, and I’m sorry. You’re the last person I wanna take that out on.” I nodded, lifting up the sheets as an invitation for him to join me, and he seemed almost shocked that I had. Looking reassured and thankful, he removed his clothes until he was in his underwear and then got himself into bed with me, clambering over to me to land on my side of the bed since I had occupied his in his absence, the two of us tucking ourselves close together. I caressed his cheek, sensing the way he soothed beneath my touch, kissing the tip of my nose. “I missed you.” He told me. “It’s only been a few hours.” I giggled. “Yeah, I hated it.” He grinned, making me laugh even more. “Can we not fall out again, please?” “You’re cute.” I bustled. “Okay, no more fighting.” “Ever?” “Depends. We’ll both have to be on our best behaviour.” He smiled, taking my jaw in his hand and pulling me that little bit closer so that he could kiss me, only for a moment. He looked over my face, speaking softly. “Can I talk to you? About… About my family.” “Only if you want to.” I whispered. “I wasn’t annoyed because you didn’t wanna talk, Harry, it was more the way you… handled the situation.” “I know that, I’m sorry.” “You don’t need to keep saying you’re sorry. I’m just saying, I’m not rushing you into talking.” “Alfie, I know.” He chuckled like he thought I was foolish to think that way. “I… I want to talk about this stuff with you, I do. I just… I find it so hard.” “Why do you think you… struggle so much?” He took a deep breath in, still with his face mere inches from mine, looking right at me, appearing strangely confident considering. His voice didn’t sound quite as assured. “I think it’s… after everything that happened with my dad, and what that did to us. My dad struggled to open up too, and I guess I’m like him in that sense. And then with me moving about so much, and… removing myself so much and not making friends and… everything. It’s just everything. I’ve had like, the opposite of what you grew up with.” I’d always had people to rely on. I’d always had a solid network of people around me, a sense of home and familiarity and trust, not solely in my friends and family, but even the whole village. I had always been aware of my luck when it came to how blessed I was to grow up there, to have the support I did, but I suppose hearing Harry word it so plainly then put it into perspective further. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for him, because it was so different to how things had been for me. “Do you… find it easier talking to your mum and brother?” “Well, my brothers in prison and my mum doesn’t want anything to do with me, so…” “What?” I cried, alarmed, distancing from him in shock. His confidence dwindled then, turning to face the ceiling and placing his hand across his forehead, pinching lightly at his temples. I didn’t know what to think, what to expect. “How? Why is… What? Why wouldn’t your mum want to see you?” “I fucked up. I fucked everything up.” “How?” “After my dad died… I think trauma either ties people together or tears them apart. For us… We couldn’t find a way to be stronger. It broke us. It fucking broke us.” I understood that, because in ways, losing my mum in the way we had, it broke me and my dad too. I was still trying to fix the damage it had done and that way I’d handled it for the past few years. It seemed Harry’s situation with his family was one that they hadn’t been able to heal. “Jack, my brother, he… He couldn’t seem to move on. I think because he was the one to find our dad, it was harder for him. As he got older, he became hostile, angry. He changed. I dunno, I guess I found my comfort in art… a-and music and literature, but he couldn’t do that. And it was… me and my mum who he could take his anger out on.” I hated that they hadn’t been able to find a way of healing together. I hated the thought of a loving family who had once protected one another, looked after one another and done all they could to keep one another fighting and happy, had fallen apart when they deserved to be happy. They deserved to find their peace. All I had known of his brother before this was that he had sheltered Harry from a sight that would have scarred him deeper than the loss of his father had anyway. It was heart-breaking to think that in time, their loss had shaped him so harmfully. “As he got older, it went from him being just a difficult kid to him… being violent. First with other people, kids at school, strangers who pissed him off. Then when he got older still… I think he was like sixteen the first time he hit our mum.” “What?” “Knocked her cold out.” “Why?” “Over something or nothing, I can’t even remember. I just remember seeing red and trying to make him stop, but he was so much bigger than me then. It wasn’t… a constant thing, him being like that, but it was like every few months something tiny would happen and he’d flip and if she was there, or… It was me a few times too, but usually her.” “That’s awful. I… I understand him struggling but… I don’t know how he could turn that round on the two of you. You must have been the only ones who could understand.” “I think it’s easier to take out your anger, your pain... on the people you love.” He sighed. “I dunno if it’s a subconscious thing, that hope that they’ll always be able to forgive you. That the love is strong enough to make everything forgivable.” “And was it?” He looked so broken even thinking back to all of it, slowly shaking his head. I stroked though his hair, whispering that I was sorry, already so proud of him for how well he was doing. “That was when I started working out. I dunno if it was necessarily with the thought of fighting back, but at least… being stronger. I hoped he would back down. By the time I was like, seventeen, I was in pretty good shape.” “Did he stop?” “No, he got worse. He’d been kicked out of college, not accepted into any uni’s, so he was stuck. Then when I got accepted into uni, that just pissed him off even more. We started fighting and… it just gradually kept getting worse until we all reached breaking point.” “What happened?” “I think… I snapped. I saw him hit her one day, and I snapped.” He was getting worked up, rambling. “I just snapped, I-I… I don’t know what happened, but I snapped and I couldn’t stop and-” “Harry, it’s okay! Stay calm for me, okay?” He took a few seconds to gather himself, tears forming in his eyes before he managed to bluntly say what had happened, why he was so worked up. “I almost killed him, Alfie. I didn’t mean to, but… I completely lost myself. I just kept hitting him over and over and… I… I beat him within an inch of his life. I’m so fucking glad I stopped because if I hadn’t… I fucked up. I fucked everything up.” I didn’t know what to say. I felt sick over the thought of Harry doing that to another human being, especially someone he’d once had so much love for. He seemed categorically ashamed, the scar of the memory more garish than the scars on his hands. He was crying, heavily, not even able to look me in the eye as he continued. “I broke his nose. His collarbone. He was… a mess, and I did that. I hate it and I hate myself for it but I did it. I did that to my own brother.” I sat myself upright hoping it would cease the curdling of my stomach, running my hand through my hair, trying to swallow the information he’d just shared. I had always had some idea that the situation with his family wasn’t stable, due to his views on families, how lonely he was, how he’d spent however many Christmases on his own. I knew things weren’t right, but I hadn’t been expecting that. He sat up with me, hysterically reaching for my hand, his tears falling heavier. “Please don’t be scared of me.” He pleaded. “M’not scared of you.” I shook my head, grasping at his fingers in the hope of reassuring him, sedating his sorrow. “I’ve changed so much since then, I’ve learnt. I’m not… I don’t do that. I’m not like that!” “Okay.” “You have to believe me.” “I… I want to, but what happened with Sam-” “I know, I… Fuck, I lose my temper sometimes and I know I shouldn’t but… I’d have never taken it that far. I wouldn’t make that same mistake again. I promise. Please, please believe me.” I believed him. Despite the evidence I had that should have probably made me think otherwise, I believed him. I was aware that his temper could get the better of him sometimes, and I thought that may be another reason he ran his classes and why he exercised in the way he did. I thought back to those times I’d seen him in his gym working out on his own, taking that energy out on punch-bags rather than people, and I felt that was his release. It was all just so overwhelming to hear. He squeezed my hand tighter, continuing frantically. “I was a stupid, heartbroken kid! I took all of it out in those fucking moments rather than… dragging out it over years, like Jack had. I kept it all in and then I just broke and… This is why I hate fucking talking. I hate trying to deal with my emotions because I’m scared that I’ll just snap again and deal with it horribly. I-I’d rather just numb it.” “That’s the exact reason you need to talk, Harry!” I cried. “You can’t let it all build up. That’s what makes you snap. It’s not the dealing with it that hurts you, it’s the bottling it up! Look at you now, look how well you’re doing!” He just about nodded, reaching up to wipe his tears away. I helped him, cupping his cheek and using my thumb to clear his damp skin. I didn’t want him to feel any more guilt than he clearly already did, I wanted to show I was there supporting him, not judging him or fearing him. Even when he was quiet, it was somehow still clear that he’d come a long way since his teenage years; he was kind, thoughtful, gentle, far much more protective than he was violent. Even those situations where he had completely lost himself, it always seemed to be for someone else’s benefit rather than his own, it was always in an attempt to protect someone else. I wanted him to feel better, not worse. I had to be as understanding as I could be. He was trembling, looking down to our hands as though seeing our joint fingers was calming him. “What happened after that?” I asked gently. He wiped away a few more tears, laying back down with a heavy thud, staring up to the ceiling. I looked down to him. “My mum kicked us both out.” “What? Why you?” “After what I did to Jack, she thought I was as bad as him, and… I don’t think she was wrong. She was scared of me. Nothing I could do.” “Where did you go?” “I stayed with a mate for a few weeks, but then I went off to uni. Kinda started a new life.” “She must have forgiven you by now.” “I don’t think so. I think… I think I fucked up, because I left and… I didn’t try, y’know? I didn’t… reach out to her, I didn’t apologise… I didn’t do anything. I just left it, because I was scared and I felt so bad so I just tried to forget the whole thing. And then the longer I left it, the worse it got and I felt like I couldn’t and… I just handled it all so fucking terribly and then I felt stuck.” I suddenly understood why it was that Harry had been so fixated on me repairing things with my own mother and father. I felt like he’d almost projected his own failings onto me, in the kindest way possible. “When I finished uni… I tried. Four years later, I went back to the house where we used to live, but she’d gone. I don’t blame her. We had so many… horrible memories in that town, that house. I think she wanted a fresh start, so she left.” “I… I just can’t believe she never tried to reach you.” “She couldn’t! I didn’t have the same number I’d had. She didn’t know where I lived in London at uni, and then after that I moved around too much. She wouldn’t have known how to find me, so like… I dunno if she tried. I hope she did, but then I dunno if it’d actually make me feel worse.” “Have you tried to reach her?” I lay back down with him. He nodded, taking a little longer to form his reply this time around, seeming almost nervous about what he was about to reveal to me. “This house… This is where my mum grew up. She was born here in Rosebury.” “What? Are you serious?” “Her mum died in childbirth, and she lived here with her dad. I never met him, he died when she was quite young. She went into care, had to leave here, but she always wanted to come back. She used to speak about this village, this house. She always wanted to be here. Her and my dad spoke about it, but with him being so ill… I think they were scared of the change, what that would do to him, so they stayed in Lytham. That’s where I grew up.” “Holy shit. That’s why you moved here.” I spoke absently. “That’s why you thought being here would bring you peace. What the fuck.” “The room, upstairs, the one you saw,” He went on. “It’s her room. The house was abandoned when her dad died, and it hadn’t even been touched since she lived here. I dunno why I kept it like that, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t bring myself to paint over the top of it. Some of her happiest memories are in this house and I just wanted to keep… some of its history alive. That’s why I’m so… touchy about it.” When I’d first found that room, I’d asked him if he had a child because there was that impression that it was a child’s room, and now it made so much sense why I’d jumped to that conclusion. I’d thought the peace he was talking about before was simple peace and quiet, somewhere quant and calm and different to the other places he had lived before. The peace he sought was so much more complex than that. “You bought the house for her.” I whispered, and he nodded. “I thought she might live around here. I thought maybe I’d find her here, but…no joy.” “Have you managed to contact her at all?” “When I first got here, I wrote to her. I hired some guy to find out where she is, and I wrote to the last address she was at, a few weeks after I moved here. I told her how sorry I am, that the house is here for her if she wants it. She… She never replied.” “She won’t have seen it. If she had, she’d have replied, I know it.” I had a gut feeling about it. I could understand that things got difficult and complicated and why she’d resorted to kicking the two of them out of her home, but I couldn’t accept the fact that she still didn’t want contact with him. They’d had years to recover and learn and I just knew that if she could be in touch with him, she would. He didn’t look convinced. “Have you spoke to anyone in Rosebury? Anyone who remembers her or her mum and dad? There are people who’ve been here all their lives, they’re bound to know her.” “What difference would it make? They wouldn’t know where she is now.” “But maybe they’d know her, and it’s a start! Do you have a picture? What if she visits? What if I’ve… seen her!” His eyes filled with hope for a few seconds, considering what I’d said. He moved quickly, clambering off the side of the bed to retrieve his wallet from the pocket of the jeans he'd been wearing, routing through to find a picture he stored there, one of him and his mother, arms around each other, smiling, happy. Gently, I took the picture from his hands, sitting back up and looking over the image to see if I could gather any sort of memory to attach to the woman. She was small, slim, short and light brown hair that didn’t even reach her shoulders. I was trying. “What’s her name?” “Julia.” He told me, watching my face. “I… I’m not sure. Nothing’s… coming to mind, I’m sorry.” I passed the picture back to him slowly, seeing how disappointed he looked whilst taking it back and placing it back into his wallet. “S’okay. Long shot, wasn’t it.” “Mm.” I kept my eyes on his face, wanting to cheer him up as much as possible. “She’ll want to see you, Harry. You made a mistake, she’ll see that. You’re so different now.” “I dunno. I hope so.” “I… I can’t believe you bought a house for her.” “I want her to be happy and I know this place makes her happy. Everything was so hard for her, with my dad and then me and my brother. I really want her to be here. You probably think it’s stupid-” “I don’t.” I cut him off firmly. “At all.” He had such a big heart. It seemed his whole adult life was shaped around trying to make things right, trying to make amends for his wrongs and trying to do everything he could for others. For too long, his life had revolved around pain and hate, and he’d done what he could to make sure that the life he built on his own was focused on love and support, even with how much he struggled to open himself up to others. I was utterly infatuated with him. “When the last time you saw your brother?” “I visited him in prison.” “Why’s he there?” “Burglary.” It seemed his brother hadn’t been able to learn and develop in the way Harry had, instead he’d stayed on that dark path, unable to find the light. “Are you on… better terms at least?” “No. I tried but… I think there’s too much anger there. He didn’t wanna see me, so… I left pretty quickly. I haven’t bothered to try since. I think that was like a year ago.” “I’m sorry.” “Some relationships can’t be saved.” “I hope that’s not true, but… I get why you feel that way.” He threw his wallet to the bottom of the bed, laying himself back down, miserable for a few moments before he spotted my smile. I couldn’t hold it in. “Why’re you smiling?” He asked. “I’m really proud of you, Harry. For… talking. I’m proud of the person you’ve become. And I know your mum would be too, so… keep looking. Keep trying.” Managing a smile in return, he ticked his head back so that I’d join him. I placed my chin on his shoulder once I was horizontal, kissing his cheek before he turned his head to look at me, raising a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against my cheek. “She might not be here,” He hushed. “But at least you are.” “I’m proud of you.” I whispered back to him, blushing brightly. He kissed my forehead sweetly, pulling my body a little closer to his, his own body finally relaxing. I was obsessed with the couple we were becoming, however slow our progress. There was a wonderful trust between us, an excitement and a delight that I had not felt previously. We were a secret and we were strong and we were good for each other. We were so fucking good for each other. He held me close, lips lightly tracing my forehead as he spoke. “Thank you, Fee-Fee. My world seems a bit softer with you in it.”

[thekitchensnk]

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 10)

Rating: T Warnings: Violent imagery Pairing: Gin/Ran Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9. Chapter 10

“They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

Do they even realise that they’re prey?, he wondered.

He had been stalking them silently for three days, and as far as he could tell, not one had sensed his presence the entire time.

And these are the powerful shinigami who lord it over us all?, he thought disdainfully.

It had been Tadayoshi who had told him about the growing number of disappearances in the district. As the man charged with keeping order in the district and maintaining the gang's iron grasp over the town's wealth, it was his job to keep alert to threats to the natural order, and like all things Tadayoshi did, he did it with grim efficiency. It would not do to have another gang muscle in on their turf, ruining the sweet, sordid enterprise they had going; the town was slim pickings, but even there, there was profit to be found for those willing to terrorise the innocent with threats and violence.

And so he had summoned Gin and put him to work.

Gin had realized long ago that whatever power the man had once held over him was long gone. He had power, Tadayoshi did not, and that made things very simple. It had been Ran-chan who had pulled that particular cloth from over his eyes. But work was work, and they needed to eat. And, he admitted to himself, there was something in the inventive cruelty of the man that he admired. He wielded fear like an artist might use oil paint, and put it to the most creative uses. He could learn from a man like that.

Something about the case had also pricked at him. He knew better than anyone the monsters which prowled in the woods of this district. He had, after all, been tailing them for months. Disappearances were not unusual, per se, but sooner or later, the bodies would always surface, and all would make sense after the fact. But there had been no bodies found this time, and no boasted remarks after too much sake.

It was unnatural.

He had hidden his presence and cast out his senses to read the disturbances in the wind and leaves. It had been a day's work trekking through the undergrowth, but he had found them.

When he had, his heart had jumped into his throat with a cold, seething triumph, because there had been one man there whom he'd recognized. One man, whose face was engraved on the back of his eyelids, whose death he had envisioned a hundred times over.

The man in glasses.

For two days, the shinigami had dragged man, woman and child before that man, and all had met the same fate. And now it was some new unfortunate's turn.

Gin knew her by sight, if nothing else- she had the same becoming button nose as her mother, who minded the pawnshop in town. Distantly, he realized that the woman would never find out what happened to her daughter. She would spend the rest of her days imagining and crying into her pillow. If she was lucky, she'd be able to convince herself that her daughter had run off to escape the dirty, grimy streets of her hometown. If not-

Well, what was it to him? 

The shinigami had found her alone in the woods, waiting for her acne-spotted beau. There was no privacy to be found in town, not in dingy rented slum rooms filled packed to bursting, and so the amorous and the foolhardy had always come to the forest for their dalliances, baring their naked backs to the moonlight.

She was not bad looking, Gin noted. Her eyes had the warm brown of tree sap, and they were childish and round. She looked younger than she was, and rare for this town, she acted it too, constantly getting into shouting matches with her mother. He had heard them yelling up a storm on more than one occasion.

She was a fool. She had tried to run out into the trees to escape her captors. That hadn't worked so well for her. One second she had been running off, and the next she was exactly where she had started, but in the hands of one of the shinigami. It was as if the man had flickered in and out of existence. Gin's eyes had narrowed then- he had not known it was possible to move that quickly, and his swift mind had quickly turned to pondering the mechanics of such a trick.

She was still in the shinigami's hands now, and he grasped at her chin with an iron grip, squeezing her cheeks hard so that her lips popped out comically, like a fish. Her brown, round eyes were wide and fearful; the man laughed and laughed.

"Give me a kiss, sweetheart," he crowed.

The man in glasses turned to him then. "Don't be vulgar," he chided gently, and he turned to address the captive girl. He stroked her hair tenderly, in an almost paternal way. That was potentially the most disturbing thing of all.

He looked her straight in the eyes. "You're going to help us in a scientific experiment," he told her honestly. "The results will be of immeasurable value to me. Please," he said softly, "try your best to co-operate. This will hurt."

In one hand, he held a jar, and he dipped his hand inside it, pulling out a gem which glowed more eerily and beautifully than the stars.

Once, one spring day long ago, a baby bird had fallen from a nest near the house. Rangiku had picked it up and cradled it delicately in her hands. She had looked at him with her big, blue eyes and beseeched him to help.

There was nothing they could do to help, no matter how many worms he had fed it. The bird had died, and the flies had descended.

The man held the glowing gem in his hands just as delicately as she had the bird, if not more so. He held it as if it was life and love itself, and advanced slowly towards the girl pinned in the shinigami's hands. The coldness in his eyes gave lie to all his feigned tenderness.

She began to scream and kick her legs in panic, and the man in glasses’s assistant clasped a hand over her mouth. "Shhh, shhhh, sweetheart," he said roughly, "it won't be long now." The eerie light of the hougyoku danced in her eyes. Gin could feel its power slide over him like a silk veil over his skin, and he could not prevent the hairs on his arms from standing on end and a sick shiver running through his body.

Her eyes were wild, and she kicked frantically now, but the man's strong, gentle hands kept her pinned in place.

On rare occasions, Gin had been able to afford tea.

It was a particular treat. Rangiku had complained at first that it tasted bitter, but she had soon developed as great a fondness for it as he had, and would whine if he didn’t think to buy any when they could afford it. As soon as the leaves touched the scalding water they had boiled over the hearth, they had bled the water green and yellow, and the color had seeped and spread.

The contours and boundaries of the girl’s body blurred against the background of the world as the fabric of her body began to unravel. When she sobbed, the tears were molten like liquid mercury, and they melted into the air. Her anxious, survival-panic breathing fell silent in a matter of minutes; her skinny, threadbare lungs could not breathe in oxygen. Soon, he could not tell where she ended and the rest of the world began, her edges were so frayed and damaged. It was a slow disintegration. Simply, as if those amber eyes had never existed in the first place, she dissolved. She bled into the thin air.

The shinigami's hands clasped around nothing.

This was the fifth time he had watched this perverse ceremony conducted by the man with glasses, and he could not help but think of tea.

The man with glasses was silent for a long while after, though whether in disappointment or anger Gin could not tell.

"Aizen-sama-" one of his followers started.

 "It isn't strong enough yet," Aizen said with finality. "Either that, or these souls do not have the reiatsu to withstand the process. But still, this was valuable data." He pulled himself up to his full height and addressed his followers. "We will require repetition to ensure the accuracy and validity of our results. If we are met with further lack of success, gentlemen, then I would suggest that the remedy is already evident."

His words rang with strange implications Gin could not parse, but everyone else stared on in disbelief.

"Let us return."

Gin's eyes narrowed in the darkness.

They were shinigami; it was clear where they were going. He made as if to follow but stopped suddenly, his heart sinking in realisation.

He could not tail them all the way to Seireitei. The journey would take weeks to walk, and they moved too quickly for him to follow.

He could not abandon Rangiku for weeks.

(In the back of his mind, he was beginning to reconcile himself to what that implied, reconciling himself to what he would need to do if he was to ever see this through to the end, though to think of it pained him greatly.)

There was a choice to be made looming on the horizon, and he knew he could not put it off for much longer, though he wanted nothing more than to ignore it forever.

He could not find what they had taken from her if he stayed here. He could not kill that man if he stayed here. He would need to grow in strength, would need to be close enough to be able to strike him down. And that meant that he had to leave.

She would not want him to go. She would hate him if he did.

(Something in him trembled at the thought of that.)

 But he had to. For her sake.

 (Or so he told himself.

But it had never been as simple as that. He never did allow himself to consider the possibility that the thing she wanted most in the world, more than anything, was for him to stay and to care for her- to love her with a purity and simplicity he might not be capable of. He overruled the thought at once, arrogantly

The love of violence and ruin beat beneath his skin like a second pulse, and he had never felt fury like this until he met her. It was in his blood, it was in his veins, this sick and disgusting love of her, this pure and powerful urge to harm, and it could no more be denied than he could stop the beating of his own heart.)

If he dwelt too long on it, he would be lost, and so he forced himself to move on.

Aizen, he thought to himself. Aizen.

A small, secret savage triumph coursed through him. He thrummed with it, and it jolted his nerves like a hit, like a drug.

Aizen.

He smiled, and it was a frightening thing.

He had a name.

--

Her birthday always heralded the dying of the year- the leaves on the trees would turn orange and yellow and begin to crinkle before falling to the ground, and the garden would slowly drain of color, sleeping till spring. And yet, there was beauty still; though there were no more persimmons and her sunflowers had given up their long sunlit vigil, the spider lilies bloomed as the decay set in, a beautiful splash of crimson amidst the brown.

They had seen the beginnings of fall set in together this year, the slow curling of the leaves, the mists floating down from the mountains and the tempestuous shift in weather. He had not left her side all month.

It was just like old times, and her heart would have sang in gladness had it not been so unsettling. She had just been beginning to accept his absences. The change in pattern, loath though she was to admit it, felt ominous; it felt like the static in the air and the leaden weight of clouds before a thunderstorm. It sat uneasily on her.

She felt shy, suddenly, anxious that she had upset him at Nakamura-san's wedding when she shouted that he would never leave. She feared that he had resigned himself to staying now out of guilt, and nothing else more.

She hated the thought that she might be limiting him.

On the morning of her birthday, she woke late. The first thing she saw when she turned her groggy face and opened her eyes was his face, scarce inches from hers. She blinked in bleary-eyed surprise. She could see every individual strand of his fine silvery hair, and each individuated eyelash.

He was smiling. He always did, of course, but she knew that he had different kinds of smiles- mocking smiles and strained smiles and inscrutable smiles and mysterious smiles. This was none of those; it was a soft, tender smile. She had never seen him give anyone else a smile like that, and some small possessive part of her liked to think of it as hers.

"Gin...?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Don't go back to sleep," he whispered. He was thrumming with excitement, she realized. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Happy birthday, Ran-chan. Did ya' forget?"

Her birthday.

The day they met.

Her heart melted in her chest and gentle, happy laughter bubbled up and out of her. This was perfection and beauty, the best life had to offer- he was here and he was close and he had let her lie in.

"As if I ever could," she told him.

Outside, despite the chill crispness of the air, the autumnal sun shone brightly.

"Don't sleep the whole day away," he commanded. "I'm makin' breakfast." He pulled back, and she made a small mou of disappointment. He leapt to his feet and started to boil the water.

"When did you get the water?" she mumbled.

"I went down to the river while ya' were snorin' ya' life away."

"Mrrrm," she groaned, ignoring the jibe in her struggle to adapt to the waking world. Ten more minutes was reasonable, she argued to herself. He wouldn't begrudge her ten more minutes sleep on her birthday. Happy with her sleep-logic, she rolled over with a contented sigh and closed her eyes.

"Rangiku," he sang in warning. She opened one eye in dread and her back stiffened. She knew that tone of voice. It had never heralded anything good. "If ya' don't get up, ya' know what will happen."

A kind of excited nervous terror filled her. It was her birthday, she decided anxiously. He wouldn't dare.

 Ichimaru Gin would always dare.

She howled and kicked as he tickled her, squirming and rolling about in their blankets. He gracefully avoided a flailed kick to the head, grabbing her ankle in the process and pulling. She yelped and moved her hands to prevent herself sliding, leaving her sides open to further tickles, and she shoved at him helplessly. He was, as in all things, absolutely merciless and he couldn't help a genuine grin of delight.

"Ready to give up yet, Ran-chan? Just say 'Ichimaru Gin is the best' and I'll stop. Promise," he sang deviously at her.

"Never! Ichimaru Gin is the worst! Ichimaru Gin is the worst!" she shouted stubbornly.

It was too easy. "Oh? Well, if ya' think I'm the worst now, I'm just goin' ta' have to show ya', aren't I?" He redoubled his efforts, and she laughed and wriggled about frantically until her eyes teared up.

"Okay, okay!" she shouted desperately. "Gin is the best! Stop! Stop!”

He obliged, and let her catch her breath. Her sides ached and she gasped for breath, but she was still smiling. A rush of affection came over him.

"Nah, Ran-chan?" he said slyly. "Ya' do know I was lyin', right?"

She shrieked.

 When he did stop, a full ten minutes later, her hair was tangled, her eyes bright and her face red. The water had boiled over, and so he'd had to start all over again. Her stomach grumbled, and she rubbed at it.

"You're the worst," she huffed. "I hate you."

He look thorough unfazed. "No you don't."

She slumped where she sat. "No I don't," she agreed petulantly. "Who even knows why?"

"It's 'cause I'm brilliant," he informed her.

"A brilliant pain in the bum," she countered.

He feigned a wounded look. "So harsh. It's a good job I like ya' present. I think I'll keep it for myself now."

He had known that the mention of presents would get him off the hook, and so he had kept it in reserve, waiting to deploy it strategically.

She immediately took the bait. Her face lit up and her eyes shone with excitement. It was one of his favourite expressions in the world and getting to bask in it knowing that he was its cause was endlessly satisfying.

"Where is it?" she asked eagerly, but he said nothing. He wanted to string out her excitement, savouring it. Let her squirm a little bit longer, he thought. In some ways, he enjoyed her birthday far more than his own. He liked her excitement.

"Don't know what ya' mean," he said blandly. "My present is waiting for me to open."

She poked him in the side. "Stop being mean."

He rubbed his side. "You said you hated me!" he pointed out.

"I took that back!" She paused for a moment, and the twin of his own sly smile flashed over her face. "Give me my present and I'll prove that I don't."

He was intrigued in spite of himself. In any case, he could never stave off her demands for long. He was embarrassingly incapable of it.

He gave her a calculating look, wondering what she had planned. "Alright," he said suspiciously. "Close your eyes and hold out ya’ hands."

She did so, but tried to keep her right eye half-open so that she could peek through her lashes. He saw through her immediately.

"Ran-chan, you cheat," he admonished, delighted at her sneakiness. She had learnt well. "No peeking."

She grinned, but obeyed.

Ever so carefully, he took her present from out of the folds of his yukata, and slipped it onto her index finger. He paused at the knuckle, and pushed gently. Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Ya’ can open them now," he announced.

Her eyes darted immediately to her finger and she gasped when she saw what was there.

"How did you get this?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes wide.

It was a ring. It was tarnished and scratched and had obviously seen better days, but it was still beautiful and perfectly sized for her girlish fingers. It wasn't made of gold, or even silver for that matter- it was far more likely a cheaper tin, but that didn't matter at all. It shone. It was hers, and she loved it at once.

She worried for a moment that he might have stolen it, but pushed the thought aside immediately, caught up in admiring it.

He watched her the entire time, eager.

"I used the leftover persimmon money," he explained. Plus the money from his last job for Tadayoshi, he thought to himself, but he didn't dare mention that. He had come by that ring honestly, even if some poor sucker had pawned it and even if some poor soul had had to die for it, and he was fiercely proud of the fact. "Do you like it?" he asked with studied casualness.

She could barely get the words out. "It's the most precious thing I own." Her eyes darted from the ring to his face. "I love it."

His answering smile was one of satisfaction.

"You put it on the wrong finger though," she said suddenly, and lifted up her hand. "Rings go on this finger. Do it properly."

He rolled his eyes. "Ya' buy a girl a present, and she says she loves it, and then she goes on complainin' that it's on the wrong finger. Can't win, not ever."

"Fix it," she demanded.

"Yare, yare," he sighed, but he shuffled over to her and obeyed anyway. He slipped the ring off her index finger and onto her ring finger. "Happy now?" he asked.

"Never, if it makes you grumpy like this all the time. You look so cute!" she teased, and grabbed for his cheeks. He evaded her hands easily. But teasing had never worked on him before, and it didn't stick this time either. He just smiled patiently, like always.

"So, Ran-chan. I gave ya' ya' present. Time to 'fess up- ya' were just cheatin' ta' get ya' present, weren't ya'? Ya’ didn’t have anythin’ planned, did ya’?" he prodded triumphantly.

She hadn't been cheating, but the thought sent butterflies into her stomach. She breathed in deeply, and exhaled in a bid to steel her resolve. She looked at him unflinchingly. "Nope," she said deliberately. "I wasn't, actually."

His smile faltered in confusion.

"Your turn now. Close your eyes."

He tried to peek. Of course he did, but she was wise to his tricks. "No peaking!" she chided with a flick to his forehead, and her heart jumped into her throat with nerves.

He did as he was told.

It was strange, sitting there in anticipation.

The blackness behind his own eyes had never seemed so fraught and soft with possibility. He could hear everything- the wind outside, the creak of the wooden beams in the house, the slightest scuff of her yukata on the floor. He felt the weight of his own arms and the location of his limbs with heightened sensitivity.

He did not know why, but he was nervous, all of a sudden, and the realization that he was was almost laughable. There was no reason for nerves, not with her, not ever. He heard her shift forwards slightly, but he could not tell why. His heart fluttered and skipped a beat. He could barely stand it, and so he opened his mouth to speak, to ask her whether she had done whatever it was she was going to do, and-

Her lips were on his, and they were soft and clumsy and warm enough to break a heart.

(He was suddenly certain that it was happening to his right then- how else could he explain this surge of feeling in his chest, the sweetness, the agony? The was clumsy, and tentative, like something newborn, but it was beautiful.

Of course it was- it was hers. She was the first and most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had thought that the very first day he saw her.)

His eyes flew open in shock and he was mute with surprise.

He could only gape.

She withdrew quickly, and a flush sat high and pink on her cheeks.

"Don't laugh-" she urged desperately, "-don't laugh, not even for a minute, Ichimaru Gin. Don’t laugh."

He stared dumbly at her, and his hand rose with no intervention from his brain to touch his lips, which hers had touched mere seconds ago. 

Her mouth ran desperately to fill the silence he left.

"I could never hate you completely, not really. Not if you tickled me for hours, not if you made me dig up the garden and dangled every worm in my face, not if you made fun of every other person on earth-" her breath hitched, and her tone became desperate "-not even if you left me, not even then, I think. Not then. You gave me this birthday, and for as long as I live, I'll wake up today and think of you because you saved me and you gave me a home."

His mouth was dry. His eyes were wide. His heart was in his throat.

(His heart was sitting right in front of him.)

Her eyes widened in sudden fear. "Say something. Say something!" she begged, but he was dumbstruck. "I should have realized that I was going too far- I - I'm sorry. Forgive me. Please forgive-" She moved to rise. "I'll go-" she started in a watery voice, but his arm shot out to grab her, and his grip was like iron.

She looked him in the eyes. They were a rare sight, even for her. Occasionally, when she was bored or in the mood to be a nuisance, she would prod him interrogatively in the side and say "Why don't you ever open your eyes? How can you even see?"

He would always give her a quizzical look, like she was being stupid, and say "But they are open," and she would shake her head and go, "Nope, definitely closed," and they would bicker light-heartedly.

But they were open now, in all their sharp brilliance, and they were trained on her, and they were calm, like a placid sea.

"Don't go," he said simply. "And don't apologize."

And so she didn't.

He flopped down on the floor in a daze then, and he smiled. It was an easy, giddy thing and it was filled to the brim with delight and wonder. She looked at him like she would never understand him in a thousand lifetimes, and then quickly looked away, a blush on her cheeks. She hid a soft smile in the crook of her arm.

No more was said on the matter that afternoon, nor indeed for a long time after, even though he knew that he would certainly not have been opposed to being kissed again, and she knew that she would certainly not have opposed kissing him.

(It will be years before the matter rises again- but it will rise again.)

[qqueenofhades]

Hello! It’s my birthday today and i was wondering if you could write something super fucking angsty - like don’t hold back on the pain here - for kastle? Thank you! 🥰

Happy birthday, dear. I feel obligated to point out that most people would ask for fluff on their birthday, rather than to get their heart ripped out, but I support you living your life. Obviously, therefore, this is painful. And also not my fault. /points at anon, exits casually stage left.

The silence in the kitchen in the wake of the shouting is overwhelming, seems to build and grow and tower on itself, until Frank almost wants to smash a coffee cup, something, God he doesn’t know what, and doesn’t think it’s a smart idea anyway. He knows that Karen has a right to be mad, furious even, and he was definitely setting this trap for his own dumb ass, not telling her about the job. But it just – it just made more sense. He wasn’t trying to lie to her. Just, as ever, to keep her safe. But he’s realizing now that he didn’t, that worse, he made her wonder if she’s done something seriously wrong in wondering if he can, in fact, leave the war behind. Or if no matter what, he has to be out there in that fuckin’ vest, spraying bullets from both hands. If without it, there’s no him.

(No them.)

“So,” Karen says at last, toneless, the voice of a prosecutor reading the charge sheet. “You’ve been just – what. Doing this for months? Out killing some secret crime cartel at odd hours? All that bullshit about turning over a new leaf was just what – to put me off the scent?”

“It wasn’t bullshit, Karen, okay?” Frank looks up agitatedly. Yes, he should have told her, but he is at pains to stress that part. “You don’t understand, these people, they had stuff I’d never seen before. If I’d dragged you into that, if I’d – ”

“Of course I didn’t understand.” Her face is white, except for the red spots of colour burning hectically in her cheeks. “You didn’t tell me. How many times have we had this goddamn argument, Frank? You know I don’t, I’ve never cared about who you are, what you do. But if you don’t tell me, if I find out like this, from a fucking phone call while you’re out, and you’re still just going to be a lone wolf and trust it never catches up to you – I thought you of all men would know better. I really did. I don’t know why.”

“Jesus, Karen.” Frank gets up and moves toward her, but she takes a sharp step back, warning him not to touch her. “Shit, all right, I fucked up, all right? I fucked up. I should have told you. I just…” He stops. “I couldn’t.”

She gives him a searing blue look, angry and agonized. At last she whispers, the question for which he still has no good answer, “Why?”

Frank opens his mouth, then shuts it. They stand there looking at each other, as if she might want to crack, to forgive him, to tell him to come to bed with her, but isn’t going to let this slide one more time, not like this, not again. Instead, she says, “Well, then. Maybe you should go work on that question, huh? Go think about it. Go talk to Curtis. Work through what you’re actually fighting for. I’m not going to constantly be the one that keeps telling you. You’re going to have to believe it, and if you don’t – ”

She stops, though not quite soon enough to curtail the implication, and Frank feels like he’s the one who’s been shot. “You throwin’ me out of the house?”

“Maybe I am,” Karen says evenly. She folds her arms and lifts her chin. He knows from several previous fights that he could sooner shift the Rock of goddamn Gibraltar than her, not when she gets in this mood. “At least for tonight. I don’t – I don’t want to look at you right now.”

Frank takes that in silently. He knows the onus is on him to shut his trap and take his medicine, has to prove that he’s penitent – and more than that, that he’s actually learned his lesson, that this scene won’t repeat in another few months, or few years, or however long the ghost of the Punisher stalks him. “All right,” he says hoarsely. “I’ll go pack a bag, get out of your hair for a night or two. Promise, Karen. Just – just let me see Amy and Kevin real quick, huh? Before I go.”

“Maybe not.” Karen doesn’t budge, her lips still white. “You couldn’t be bothered to talk to them before.”

“Like I’m telling my teenage daughter and my three-year-old son that I’m gonna go off and – “

“Lisa and Frankie knew that Daddy was a soldier.” Karen practically spits it at him, and Frank recoils as if slapped. It’s obviously below the belt, but he can’t exactly protest right now. “Why don’t they?”

“They know, Jesus – Amy probably shot more grown men in the ass than I did, so it’s not like she’s some fainting little damsel – ”

If this is a poor attempt at humor to break the mood, it doesn’t go down well at all, and Karen looks like she might physically strangle him. She turns and paces a few deliberate steps off, running her hands through her loosened hair. Then she says, “Just go, Frank. Just go. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?”

“Karen – Jesus Christ, Karen, Don’t make me go without seeing my kids. Come on. You’re not gonna do that. Two seconds, I swear, I – ”

Karen turns on him. Even Frank Castle takes half a step backward at the look in her eyes. “Just. Go.”

(He knows that this, then, is his punishment. That he is being given exactly what he’s acted goddamn fuckin’ well like he actually wants, and if he doesn’t, well, this is the moment of truth.)

“Okay,” Frank says, barely a whisper. Raises his hands, as if to prove that he is unarmed, but there is no softness, no forgiveness, on her face. He can’t trust that there will be again, arrogantly take it for granted, that of all the times she’s chosen to keep loving him before, that she will do it again now. “Okay, okay.”

Karen doesn’t look up. Her hair falls over her face. She crosses her arms tightly, makes a small gulping sound, but she doesn’t crack. She doesn’t move. She will not back down. She waits.

Quietly, without another word, Frank goes.

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 95: Gem Hunt

“I don’t want you fighting this thing alone.”

I mentioned in my Monster Reunion post that it’s been ages since we’ve had an episode about fighting a Corrupted Gem. The latest examples are Rising Tides, Crashing Skies as a cameo and Reformed as an episode focus, but neither involves an actual mission: the former takes place on the beach, and the latter in the Temple. If we want to look back at a true Season 1-style Gem Hunt, we have to actually go to Season 1: the last episode that featured the Crystal Gems going out into the world with the express purpose of fighting a Corrupted Gem is Island Adventure, sixty-five episodes ago, and that was only the first act of the story.

There are plenty of reasons for this. After Monster Buddies and Ocean Gem the idea of beating up Gem variants that can be friendly and used to be just like the Crystal Gems seemed a lot less fun. After Mirror Gem, the show became more serialized and the need for monster-of-the-week episodes dwindled. After Peridot’s arrival, we got new sentient opponents to worry about until Keeping It Together, where Cluster Gems began standing in for Corrupted Gems. But regardless, the result of this gap is that Gem Hunt gets to feel like a wonderful mixture of old and new: it almost tricks you into thinking this is a throwback to early self-contained missions, until serialized drama barrels in and rips the monster of the week apart.

Gem Hunt wasn’t written with the knowledge that Season 3 would air almost in its entirety within the span of a month, or that this event would be called the Summer of Steven, but relocating to the Great North plays excellently off of these circumstances. With so many episodes coming one after the other, it’s good to have an obvious break from the less arc-driven stories of late, and the snowy environment immediately contrasted with the season of the show and the season of the year. Even before Jasper comes in out of nowhere to reveal the start of an arc, this story feels like a new beginning.

I had to rewatch a few times for this review to get back into the headspace of not knowing the twist, because I forgot how unexpected Jasper was. Maybe some people guessed it, but Steven and Connie only discuss corruption (which Jasper is not yet associated with) and her name isn’t even mentioned before she arrives; contrast with The Message, which gives us a whole song about Lapis Lazuli to set the stage for our “twist,” and Message Received, featuring Peridot gushing about Yellow Diamond in the first act. There isn’t even any fanfare to Jasper’s arrival: she lunges into frame, back turned to the camera, in the middle of our last fight scene. Watching Gem Hunt with the knowledge that she’s coming makes her appearance a little underwhelming, because she just sorta shows up. I frankly don’t remember how shocked I was that she was the humanoid Steven and Connie were tracking, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this scene’s execution was responsible for my lack of concrete “oh wow!” memories.  

That said, Jasper’s arrival does fit with the episode’s unusual structure: even back when missions were the norm, we never had an episode that exclusively consisted of a single outing. There have always been introductions framing our quest (like Cheeseburger Backpack or An Indirect Kiss), or episodes beginning in media res that cut back to Beach City (like Steven’s Lion and Arcade Mania). The closest we’ve had to a full episode mission is Serious Steven, but that includes flashbacks to Funland. Gem Hunt is all set from the start, and the result is an adventure that gets a lot of detail but an episode that speeds right on by. It’s crazy to think that Gem Hunt and, say, Steven and the Stevens are the same length, going by how much stuff happens in each episode: one has a time travel plot and a clone plot and a band plot and several songs, and the other is one long trek through the snow.

While this structure leaves plenty of time for the ending to not feel abrupt, it’s still clearly the start of something big, and in retrospect this feels like an especially complete place-setting episode. But in the moment, it’s a mystery episode! The promo art featuring our leads wearing their Hanna-Barbera Best isn’t the only reference to Scooby-Doo we get: Connie suggests that the gang split up early on, and both kids reference monster suits and property disputes while sipping pine needle tea. We begin by tracking a monster, learn something weird is going on, and investigate. We even get a red herring! It’s basic, but it does wonders for the pacing to always have a concrete goal in mind.

This is what separates Gem Hunt from, say, Open Book. We’re not meandering despite the longer-than-usual scenes and a plot that’s largely about two buds hanging out. We know throughout that we’re going somewhere, which makes me enjoy the former more than the latter even though the latter has a better twist in Connterfeit and a more emotionally compelling climax when Connterfeit forces Steven to come clean about embarrassing emotions. It doesn’t matter how good your destination is if I get sorta bored along the way, and for all of Gem Hunt’s simplicity, I never find it boring.

Granted, a major advantage Gem Hunt has over Open Book is that this Connie is real throughout, which allows her to be an utter delight. Applying the Maheswaran Code of Safety to tracking down and fighting a monster with a giant sword, she takes a character trait that might turn her into an annoying worrywart and instead spends the episode dorking out about survival. Of course she’s basing her actions on a book, this is a girl who went from reading fantasy literature to living a literal fantasy. She’s more role-playing an adventurer than being one, as evidenced by her zealous overpreparation. This nerd’s over here thinking about scurvy an hour into a hike.

And thank goodness Steven is all aboard, because if this episode would suck if it was about Connie being a know-it-all and competing with Steven. Steven invites her enthusiasm without any ridiculous character beats like being worried about his place in the team (more on that coming soon from a more realistic place courtesy of Amethyst) or arrogantly shutting down her ideas. These are two friends on a fun journey, so Connie’s bravado and Steven’s go-with-the-flow attitude are just what we need.

The climax neatly cuts both ways on Connie’s attitude. She loses her composure for a bit and is hard on herself afterwards, but she still gets to show off her training without going overboard. Pearl might not have to do much, but Connie does the right thing in calling for help as soon as she’s able to do so. 

I’m hesitant to theorize that this connection is intentional, but I think Connie’s first mission ending in her calling for help (and getting rewarded for it) is a cool lens to examine her anger with Steven in the Breakup Arc after he leaves her behind on Earth for the second time in one season. Gem Hunt might breeze on by for us, but as Connie’s first mission it’s bound far more impactful for her than it is for Steven and Pearl, and the lesson she learned from it is to let people help you. Steven taking the fall for everyone is the exact opposite of what she does here.

Comedy flows freely among all three of our leads—my favorite gag is Pearl reminding the kids that humans need food, she really is the world’s most maternal alien—but the third act entrance cleverly mines that humor for drama. Pearl’s nervous chatting over the walkie talkie comes back to bite the kids when she won’t stop yelling out of their speaker and alerting the Corrupted Gem to their presence, and we can hear that her jokey smugness from “Who’s your favorite Gem?” has crumbled from anxiety with time. Steven’s photography begins as a joke, and breaks the tension when he snaps a shot of Jasper mid-intimidation, but that picture returns us to a state of dread to end the episode. Efficiency might not seem as crucial in an episode with so much time to breathe, but you’ll never see me complaining about a story skillfully repurposing its material. 

Still, I wouldn’t quite call this a comedy-centric episode, and not just because it’s primarily a mystery. Connie gets more focus than Steven, but he has plenty of time to remind us that he’s still thinking about Nephrite and all the other Corrupted Gems he could be helping by talking to Connie about it. What could have served as a rote reminder of Corrupted Gems turns into a plot point, as his desperation for signs of hope causes them to assume the humanoid tracks are from a Corrupted Gem trying to heal. But its larger importance, as usual, is its development of our characters. 

Steven isn’t as gung-ho about fighting monsters as he was at the beginning of the show, and sees this mission as a way of helping someone who’s hurt rather than ridding the world of a threat. And Connie isn’t as emotionally distant as she was at the beginning of the show, sensing how bothered Steven is by corruption and asking if he’s okay. After the enjoyable but blunt Greg the Babysitter, it’s wonderful to see how much these kids have grown and bonded without the episode shouting “HEY CHECK IT OUT THESE KIDS HAVE GROWN AND BONDED” at us.

Gem Hunt works well as a transitional episode, borrowing elements from Monster Reunion and Alone at Sea and allowing Steven and Connie’s growing competency to form the basis of Amethyst’s angst in Crack the Whip. But it does what I believe Super Watermelon Island and Gem Drill failed to do: it tells its own story first, and allows its role as a pivot point to come second. It means that things aren’t as overtly different afterwards as they were when Malachite defused and the Cluster was dealt with, but if that makes for a better episode, I’ll take it.

Future Vision!

It’s nifty that I wrote this episode the same week that Escapism aired, because it allowed me to immediately identify the Protes bar Connie brought to space. She’s still prepared, folks!

If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have inconsistencies…

Both this episode and I are aware that references to “Connie’s first mission” are talking about her role as a swordswoman, but it’s still a little strange that nobody brings up her tagging along with the Crystal Gems (and Greg) and Ocean Gem. 

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

This is a borderline episode for sure, because I enjoy it, but in the end it still feels a little too light to rank higher than a like. Which may sound odd considering my top two episodes, but I mean light in terms of that structure rather than the episode’s weight in regards to the greater plot: this may be a terrific episode about Steven and Connie hanging out and adventuring, but it lacks that oomph factor to make me truly love it. Fortunately it’s not a consolation prize to “only” be an episode I like. 

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

No Thanks!

     5. Horror Club      4. Fusion Cuisine      3. House Guest      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[drbtinglecannon]

Preen to stay clean

So thanks to @blamedorange and @quirk-registration-office I'm super into HawksxFuyumi. There's too little content so don't mind me contributing haha. I got this idea from a discord I joined for fans of Hawks, him and a s/o preening but he's complaining no one does it right. I had a lot fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Also on Ao3.

-----

Fuyumi tried to keep her eyes on the TV directly across from her, but they kept wandering to the side to stare at the house guest. Hawks came over unannounced, as he always does, and sat himself on the loveseat in the living room waiting for Endeavor.

She didn't understand why the winged hero wouldn't just go to her father’s agency whenever he had a whim to discuss something. Endeavor wasn't very tech savvy so that ruled out texting or emailing, but the younger hero could still try calling instead of dropping by Todoroki manor.

Fuyumi found Hawks insufferable at first, and while she's still not his biggest fan, he's a lot easier to deal with when in a quieter, more private setting. Sometimes. He still talked far too much and spoke arrogantly, but at least he was consistent and honest.

She fidgeted, trying to focus on whatever show was playing, but her eyes kept straying to the side. Hawks was sitting with his legs crossed propped up on the coffee table (Fuyumi has given up telling him to stop putting his feet on the furniture) while methodically running a brush through his wings. He was working small sections at a time, adjusting the dark red feathers to precise angles and picking tiny specs of dirt or dust out, dropping them in a small pile in his lap.

“Y’know, instead of staring you could just ask what I'm doing.” He didn't look up, focus still on his wings, but a smirk appeared on his face. “I know I'm handsome, but I thought you Todoroki kids were raised with better manners than this.”

Fuyumi would've rolled her eyes at his self-praise but was too startled from being caught staring and then called out on it. “My apologies, I didn't mean to stare.” She fixed her gaze on her feet right when he glanced up.

“Nah, I don't mind, especially when it's a lovely lady like yourself doing it.” He started chuckling as Fuyumi’s face flushed from the compliment. This time she did roll her eyes.

“Nevermind, I’m not sorry.”

He laughed louder. “Ooh, so cold! I didn't know your quirk could reach your words.” Hawks continued laughing, thoroughly enjoying making his unwilling host suffer.

“...You still haven't asked.” He reminded her in a low voice when his laughter finally ceased.

Fuyumi pursed her lips and examined her slippers as she weighed her opinions. If she engaged further, there would be no going back to quietly pretending to watch the news, however...she was very curious.

Silence settled between them, Fuyumi still pointedly staring down and Hawks still watching her waiting patiently. She heaved a long sigh. “Fine, what are you doing?”

Her eyes finally darted up and locked on him, regret sinking into her stomach as a shit eating grin broke on Hawks’ face. “Preening.”

Fuyumi blinked. He said it so casually as if to say what else could I be doing? “‘Preening’?”

“Yeah, like a bird.” He answered easily, turning his attention back to where he was previously working on his left wing. “Preen to stay clean!”

She gave him a flat look at his dumb joke, knowing full well he was acting as if he didn't notice while he brushed away. “I suppose that makes sense...” Fuyumi titled her head as she continued staring. “Is it difficult to preen? Your wings are rather large.”

Hawks shrugged slightly, running his fingers over the smooth feathers. “Not really, it's definitely time-consuming though. I have to preen at least three times a day, and it's only a pain if I got dirty while doing hero work.”

“One time I caught someone who fell from a construction site and got COVERED in paint. That was a pain in the ass to clean.” He grimaced slightly mentioning that story, personally Fuyumi would've paid money to see it.

Hawks moved to the larger feathers on the base of his wing, brushing long strokes through them. “At this point though I'm so used to the routine of preening I can do it while still waking up in the morning. It helps me relax and I feel energized afterwards.”

It wasn't a surprise the process felt relaxing, since it was relaxing just to watch. The way he was knowingly adjusting the feathers, gently brushing away any filth until they were fluffy and soft looking was almost hypnotic.

Fuyumi had a overwhelming desire for the hero to brush her hair.

Immediately after that thought popped up she turned her face away quickly, embarrassment washing over her as warmth crept up her cheeks. The sudden movement wouldn't go unnoticed, but Fuyumi prayed Hawks wouldn't comment.

“You ok?” He asked, confusion and slight concern evident in his voice.

Fuyumi cursed her luck, wishing he just feigned not to notice. “Nothing...I just…” She now cursed how awkward her voice sounded and cleared her throat before continuing. “Your wings look nice, you’re clearly very diligent about preening them.”

There was a small pause before he snorted. “You're such a liar.”

Fuyumi whipped her head back to glare at the winged hero, who merely grinned in response. “Excuse me?!”

“I said you're a liar. You might really think my wings look nice, but that isn't why you suddenly turned away blushing.” Hawks leaned forward slightly as he spoke, sharp eyes searching Fuyumi’s soft gray ones. She gulped, feeling very exposed all of a sudden.

He raised an unruly eyebrow as he murmured in a sultry tone. “Maybe perhaps it's because you were thinking…dirty thoughts?”

Fuyumi threw the closest decorative pillow she could grab at his face, unfortunately he caught it right in time even as he howled with laughter. She scowled and crossed her arms, trying not to think about how red her face must be or how stupid attractive his voice sounded just then.

“Ok, ok, I'm sorry, sorry!” He apologized in between laughs.

He pushed his blue tinted visor up to wipe at tears that formed, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. “But really, what made you freak out just now?”

The glint in his eyes told Fuyumi he wasn't going to drop it anytime soon. She would never hear the end of it if she confessed (even if she did get what she very briefly wanted), so she blurted out the best sounding lie she could think of.

“I wondered what it would be like to brush your wings. There, happy?” Her arms pulled a little tighter around herself as they stared at each other.

Hawks blinked once, twice, then quickly peered down at his neglected brush. “No.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Fuyumi watched wide-eyed as Hawks’ face flushed slightly and he pouted.

She snorted, quickly covering her mouth as he threw a glare her way. “Sorry, I didn't expect you to be so protective of your precise preening time.”

His eyes narrowed. “No one else can do it right.” The hero turned back to his wing and resumed brushing. “I hate when interviewers or fans ask if they can play with my wings and I have to chuckle and say 'Sure!’, because then I just get stuck fixing it later.”

His cheeks were tinged pink, and it was clear by his tone he intended to end the conversation there. Normally Fuyumi would be relieved when Hawks would finally shut up, but right now it left a sour taste in her mouth.

She toyed with her hair, a nervous habit of hers, before apologizing again. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Although…”

Fuyumi glanced at him and waited until he finally shifted his gaze back on her. “...if you're willing to explain how, I wouldn't mind trying to properly preen your wings.”

Hawks’ eyes widened at her request, clearly thrown by the forwardness. Fuyumi herself was surprised she offered to learn, but the idea people thoughtlessly make a mess of his wings on TV or in public for entertainment genuinely angered her.

He cleared his throat after a long pause. “...ok, sure. It’ll, uh, work best if I sat in a chair backwards. Or if you sat in between my legs but um...yeah I can get a chair---”

Fuyumi patted the coffee table directly in front of her. “You put your feet on it all the time as it is, what more is you sitting on it?” She chuckled under her breath as he pouted again. “Don’t worry, my father has stood on this table before, it's very sturdy.”

Hawks eyed the spot warily, before pushing himself up and gently floating over to sit cross-legged directly in front of Fuyumi facing her, the small pile of dust still in his lap. He silently held out of the brush for her, which she delicately accepted.

It was clearly a specialty brush, with long, strong, sharp bristles and a curved shaped to it. Fuyumi was equal parts irritated people either misused this nice brush or used a low quality one on his wings, and touched he trusted her enough to actually learn his process.

He spread his right wing out, and guided her hand to the top where it arched. “Brush in small downwards strokes, similar to how you would with hair, until the feathers look smoother and soft. Don't worry about dust or dirt, or adjusting the feathers individually, it uh, won’t really make sense the first time.”

“‘First time’?” She raised a neat eyebrow, and smirked slightly.

“Well...I suppose if you do well enough just brushing...I can let you preen them again some time.” He said quietly.

A small part of her hoped she lived up to his expectations.

She started brushing the striking colored feathers softly, not wanting to tug or damage them. It was a little awkward, especially with how tense Hawks was seated in front of her, but after a few minutes working down the length of his right wing, his posture visibly relaxed.

His eyes fluttered closed, and he rested his chin on his left hand. Aside from the occasional gentle instructions, his body language was so loose he could've easily been mistaken for being asleep. If he were a cat, Fuyumi is sure he'd be purring loudly.

Eventually Fuyumi finished brushing the feathers, and had to resist the urge to run her hands over the soft looking tendrils. Hawks slowly blinked his eyes open, glanced over her work, and gently fluttered his crimson wings until they poofed out a small amount.

It was adorable. Fuyumi tried to keep her expression neutral looking, but it was difficult after the little display.

“You actually did pretty well, considering you didn't even know what I was doing 15 minutes ago.” His voice was missing the snarky edge it usually carried, coming out more timid than he probably meant. “... thanks, that uh...it was nice.”

Fuyumi would never admit out loud she vaguely thought Hawks blushing or being awkward was cute, but she could admit it was refreshing to see the smug hero shelf his arrogance every once in a while.

“You're welcome, it was kind of fun. Perhaps I can learn more about your preening techniques next time.” Fuyumi said with a small smile.

“'Next time’, huh?” He leaned forward, too close that Fuyumi backed up further into the cushions behind her. “Now, Todoroki-san, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were flirting.”

His smirk was confident, but there was this delicate emotion in his eyes she couldn't quite decipher. Fuyumi’s heart was beating so loud she's sure he could hear from where he was leaning not even a foot away. “I…---”

The resounding noise of the front door opening and firmly closing in such a quintessential Endeavor way was enough to dispel any further teasing.

Hawks jumped so hard he used the momentum to hop off the coffee table and fly a few feet away onto his feet, barely collecting the small dust pile into his hands before it could spill. His face was as red as the ruffled feathers on his back however Fuyumi couldn't fault him. After all, if her father walked in on their little scene there she would be shocked if it didn't result in someone being set on fire.

Endeavor must've heard the small commotion because he was now in the doorway, scrutinizing eyes darting between his daughter and begrudged colleague. “What are you doing here?” His tone as harsh and fiery as always.

Hawks took a small breath, before suddenly tossing the dust in his hand at Endeavor's chest, right into one of the open patches of flames his costume produced. The dust immediately singed. “Just looking for the trash.”

Endeavor blinked at his chest, then looked up and blinked at Hawks. The winged hero wore his best sassy grin proudly on his face.

Fuyumi supposed she’d never be able to learn Hawks’ proper preening techniques, because if the face her father was pinning the younger hero with said anything, it was that he was going to be charred alive in a few moments.

[antonverloc]

i made verloc a playlist because listen it’s my day off and this is definitely the most productive use of my time. many of the songs refer to different aspects of him (or at least my portrayal) as well as his relationships, and those details and the most prominent lyrics in each are under the cut. 

GERM CELL TUMOR / SHOWBREAD (HIM). ❝ i’m often misplacing the conviction that i sell; i put it on display so arrogantly. sometimes being right is important to me; i need the vindication, but it doesn’t make me happy. i’m horrified by the prospect of defeat; so many demons want to make a home in me. ❞ + ❝ i think that when i started, there was hope in the tank. somewhere along the line, i replaced all of it. running on the arrogant fumes of self-satisfaction, got me reeking of the odor of my own pestilence. ❞ + ❝ so petrified, and i’m tangled in conceit. ❞

SHE BLINDED ME WITH SCIENCE / THOMAS DOLBY (SALLY).  ❝ i don’t believe it! there she goes again. she’s tidied up, and i can’t find anything. all my tubes and wires, and careful notes, and antiquated notions. but it’s poetry in motion, and when she turned her eyes to me, as deep as any ocean, as sweet as any harmony, she blinded me with science. ❞

DEAD IN THIS HOUSE / IAMX (CHILDHOOD/FAMILY). ❝ you’re in the dark, just you and anger; your oldest friend, your closest lover. show them your art, show them your alchemy - your addictive, viral, euphoric, raging need. ❞ + ❝ kick down the door, kick through the pain. you’ve been talking to the wall, ‘cause everybody is dead in this house. ❞

SMOKE AND MIRRORS / GOTYE (HIM). ❝ you’re a fraud, and you know it; but it’s too good to throw away. anyone would do the same. you’ve got ‘em going, and you’re careful not to show it. sometimes you even fool yourself a bit - it’s like magic - but it’s always been a smoke and mirrors game. anyone would do the same. ❞ + ❝ such highs and lows, you put on quite a show. all these highs and lows, and you’re never really sure what you do it for. ❞

ANIMALS / MUSE (HIM). ❝ out of control - you’re out of control. strike those in distress. analyze, advertise, expand, bend more rules - buy yourself an island. ❞ + ❝ out of control - we’re out of control. crush those who beg at your feet. analyze, franchise, spread out, kill the competition - and buy yourself an ocean. amortize, downsize, lay off, kill yourself - come on and do us all a favour. ❞ 

NUMB / MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS (HIM). ❝ one track mind like a gold fish, stuck inside my petri dish. i can’t breathe and i can’t smile - this better be worth my while. i feel numb most of the time; the lower i get, the higher i’ll climb. and i will wonder why i got dark only to shine; looking for the golden light, oh, it’s a reasonable sacrifice. ❞ + ❝ forego family, forego friends. that’s how it started, how it ends. i can’t open up and cry, ‘cause i’ve been silent all my life. ❞ + ❝ oh, i get dark - and oh, i’m in hell. i need a friend - oh, but i can’t yell. yeah, i’m no good, no good to anyone, ‘cause all i care about is being number one. ❞

SOLITAIRE / MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS (HIM). ❝ don’t wanna talk with anyone, i’m obsessed with silence. i go home and i lock my door, i can hear the sirens. i see buildings and bars from the window, and i listen to the wind blow. i see people and cars covered in gold, and i’m happy to be on my own. ❞ + ❝ hard like a rock, cold like a stone. white like a diamond, black like coal. cut like a jewel, yeah, i repair myself when you’re not there. solitaire, something you consider rare. i don’t wanna be compared with that cheap shimmer and glitter. ❞ + ❝ i’m in love with the ice-blue skies of england. i’ll admit, all i wanna do is get drunk and silent. ❞

HURT / JOHNNY CASH (HIM/SALLY). ❝ i hurt myself today to see if i still feel. i focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real. ❞ + ❝ everyone i know goes away in the end. and you could have it all - my empire of dirt. i will let you down; i will make you hurt. ❞ + ❝ i wear this crown of thorns, upon my liar’s chair; full of broken thoughts i cannot repair. beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear; you are someone else, and i am still right here. ❞

WHITE SUBURB IMPRESSIONISM / IAMX (HIM). ❝ you might keep me alive, but i can let you down any time that i like. ❞ + ❝ break my neck or my fall, and burn all the bridges, and breach every wall. the sweetest of touches, the violent caress - the time of your life for the marks that you left on me. ❞ + ❝ never argue with these idiots, they drag you down to their level and beat you with ignorance. ❞

FLAWED DESIGN / STABILO (HIM). ❝ when i got older, i began to lie to get exactly what i wanted when i wanted it, and i wanted it. now i’m having trouble differentiating between what i want and what i need to make me happy. ❞ + ❝ and i will turn off, and i will shut down; burying the voices of my conscience hitting ground. the chemicals are restless in my head. ❞ + ❝ never take advice from someone who just admitted to being devious, who just confessed to treason.❞

COLD COLD COLD / CAGE THE ELEPHANT (HIM). ❝ doctor, look into my eyes. i’ve been breathing air, but there’s no sign of life. doctor, the problem’s in my chest; my heart feels cold as ice, but it’s anybody’s guess. ❞ + ❝ it’s cold, cold, cold, cold inside. darker in the day than in the dead of night. ❞

NOTHING PERSONAL / NIGHT RIOTS (HIM/DOWNERS). ❝ the center of the world is lonely me. ❞ + ❝ i’ll be the king, you’ll be the filth i wash away. it’s nothing personal. ❞

WHO ARE YOU, REALLY? / MIKKY EKKO (HIM). ❝ so, you feel entitled to a sense of control, and make decisions that you think are your own. ❞ + ❝ now you’re moving idle, and you say you’re alone. ❞ 

DON’T MESS WITH ME / TEMPOSHARK (HIM). ❝ how it all began, if truth be told: i had a master plan, now i rule the world. took ‘em by surprise, worked my way uphill. they looked into my eyes; i became invincible. no one can stop me, for only i am in control. if you want me, you’d better contact my people. ❞ + ❝ won’t you please disappear? something tells me you can’t further my career. ❞

CALL MY NAME / THE UNLIKELY CANDIDATES (SALLY). ❝ i keep my heart under the floorboards, deep in the dark, far away from yours. a panic starts in a little box when you’re at my door, and it’s fine. no, i lied - i feel it screaming. it knows what you’ve come for. ❞ + ❝ heart! what is it i hear? i’m moving past the real, and it wants to feel you call my name.  ❞ + ❝ i pass the time in cool paranoia, detail each crime that killed me before you. but your pale blue eyes trigger innocence and bind to euphoria, then it throbs, and i’m about to hear it laughing. my heart will destroy us. ❞

WIRES / THE NEIGHBORHOOD (HIM). ❝ mr. know-it-all had his reign and fall, at least that’s what his brain is telling all. ❞ + ❝ you knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated. ❞ + ❝ the wires got the best of him - all that he’d invested in goes straight to hell. ❞

I DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT YOU / MISSIO (HIM/SALLY). ❝ depressed again; morning comes too fast, and i’m tired of the routine. depressed again, let me sit alone in the tone of tranquility. angry again; no, i don’t want to have a conversation with you. angry again; let me sit alone with the kerosene. ❞ + ❝ i don’t even care about you, i don’t even care about you - depressed again - angry again - let me sit alone with the kerosene. ❞

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLDS / LORDE (HIM/WELLINGTON WELLS). ❝ welcome to your life, there’s no turning back. even while we sleep, we will find you acting on your best behaviour, turn your back on mother nature. everybody wants to rule the world. ❞ + ❝ it’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. ❞ 

STORMS / FLEETWOOD MAC (SALLY). ❝ every night that goes between, i feel a little less. as you slowly go away from me, this is only another test. every night you do not come, your softness fades away. did i ever really care that much? is there anything left to say? every hour of fear i spend, my body tries to cry. living through another empty night, a deadly calm inside. ❞ + ❝ i haven’t felt this way i feel since many a year ago, but in those years and the lifetimes past, i did not deal with the road. and i did not deal with you, i know, though the love has always been. ❞

EARTH / SLEEPING AT LAST (CHILDHOOD/FAMILY). ❝ fault lines tremble underneath my glass house, but i put it out of my mind. long enough to call it courage, to live without a lifeline. i bend the definition of faith to exonerate my blind eye; ‘til the sirens sound, i’m safe. ❞ + ❝ meanwhile, my family’s taking shelter; the sparks send the fire down the wire. the countdown begins, until the dynamite gives in. ❞

BURN / AURAM (SALLY). ❝ if i burn, you burn with me. you got me so fucked up, feels like you’re watching me. thought you’d be haunting, but it’s her that’s haunting me. is this what you want? setting me on fire. i thought i loved you right, but this is what you inspire. and you were right when you told me “you’ve got a lot to prove”; may not be watching close, but i’m watching you. now i’ve got ammunition, baby - you don’t even wanna think about what i could do. ❞

WEIRD SCIENCE / OINGO BOINGO (HIM). ❝ from my heart and from my hand - why don’t people understand my intentions? plastic tubes and pots and pans, bits and pieces, magic from the hand, we’re making weird science. ❞ + ❝ pictures from a magazine, diagrams and charts, mending broken hearts. ❞ + ❝ things i’ve never seen before behind bolted doors; talent and imagination. ❞

THE SCIENTIST / COLDPLAY (SALLY).  ❝ running in circles, coming up tails, heads on a science apart. nobody said it was easy; it’s such a shame for us to part. nobody said it was easy; no one ever said it would be this hard. oh, take me back to the start. ❞ + ❝ i was just guessing at numbers and figures, pulling the puzzles apart. questions of science - science and progress - don’t speak as loud as my heart. tell me you love me, come back to haunt me - oh, and i rush to the start. ❞

PIPES / TOM MILSOM (HIM/SALLY). ❝ the world is strange; it’s all a game, a shooting range. for apathy and empathy, psychology and therapy; and even if i’m eloquent, this all defies my sentiment. ❞ + ❝ hovering intangibly is everything you mean to me; i’d cut open your humming heart if only i knew where to start. these microscopes replace my eyes, and everything it magnifies is something new, but everywhere you cast a shadow on the atoms in the air. ❞ + ❝ let me cut it open and explore the information, in the pipes that make it mazes of logistical holisticism. ❞ + ❝ there’s no emotion in my eyes, i’m just a robot in disguise. the passion, when it came to me, was more than sonic fallacy. ❞

OH NO! / MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS (HIM). ❝ don’t do love, don’t do friends. i’m only after success. don’t need a relationship, i’ll never soften my grip. ❞ + ❝ i know exactly what i want and who i want to be. i know exactly why i walk and talk like a machine. i’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy - oh, oh no. ❞ + ❝ one track mind, one track heart. if i fail, i’ll fall apart. maybe it is all a test, ‘cause i feel like i’m the worst, so i always act like i’m the best. ❞

DANGEROUSLY / CHARLIE PUTH (SALLY). ❝ i ignored the truth, drunk off that love. it fucked my head up; there’s no forgetting you. ❞ + ❝ you’ve awoken me, but you’re choking me. i was so obsessed, gave you all of me - and now, honestly, i’ve got nothing left. ❞ + ❝ knew we would crash at the speed we were going, didn’t care if the explosion ruined me. baby, i loved you dangerously. ❞ + ❝ usually, i hold the power with both my hands tied behind my back. look at how things have changed. ❞

[lowdenfordays]

Request from @sugarandedge: Okay because I'm thirsty AF for Jack and just fell into hole reading about celebrity PR relationships. Any way I was wondering if you could write something about you and Jack not really liking each other at first and being put in a PR relationship because of the film and yeah you can take it from there and end it however you want.

A/N: This is probably too long but was just having so much fun writing it I've spent like all afternoon on it. Christ. Anyways, hope you like it. Also I’m so sorry about all the fucking cheese jokes.

“You’ve got to be joking,” you spluttered, incredulous.

You were sat opposite your publicist in a quiet coffee shop, having just been told that the powers-that-be on the film you had just finished wanted you to pretend to be in a relationship with your co-star, Jack Lowden.

“Look, you wouldn’t have to do much,” your publicist, Brenda, said timidly, “Just been seen out together a couple of times, you know, walking, holding hands, that kind of thing. Go to the premier together, maybe share a kiss…”

“A kiss? No way.” You sat back in your chair, arms folded across your chest.

It wasn’t kissing him that you were opposed to, having kissed him in the film – it would be just like acting – it was the whole idea that you hated. You and jack hadn’t exactly seen eye-to-eye during the filming process, constantly bickering. He was a smug little Scottish prick, all suave moves and cheesy lines. You’d roll your eyes and make some comment about how his big chat was likely compensating for something. You couldn’t stand the guy; his self-satisfied little smirk, those arrogantly deep dimples, his eyes so blue that frankly you found them ostentatious. Granted, he was good-looking, but he knew it and that got on your wick no end. You knew if you had to pretend to be in a relationship with him you would never hear the end of it from him. He would forever think he had the upper hand.

“I won’t do it,” you said finitely.

“Okay, so we can veto the kiss but-”

“No. I won’t do any of it. You know I can’t stand the guy,” you pleaded.

“I don’t understand it, Y/N. everyone else loves him. He’s funny and friendly and actually very sweet. And you two have such chemistry, anyone would think that your on-screen romance didn’t require much acting.”

You snorted; the thought of being genuinely attracted to him was so ridiculous to you. Well, you did find him attractive, but you know, he was an arse. You weren’t attracted to him. You weren’t.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Come on, Y/N, please do it. Just a couple of pictures for the press, you’ll only have to see him a few times.” Breda put her best puppy dog eyes on and you knew you were trapped.

“Do I have a choice?”

She shook her head guiltily.

You huffed, “Fine.”

---

“Well, this is fun,” Jack said sarcastically as you walked side by side down the street. You rolled your eyes, thankfully concealed behind sunglasses.

“Should we hold hands?” he mocked, faintly stroking your hand with his pinkie, your skin brushing together for just a moment. You had to refrain from snapping your hand away from him.

“Oh, don’ look so miserable, we’re supposed te be in love!” He was so breezy about the whole situation, seeming fine with being used like a pawn, it made you resent him a little more. You plastered a smile on your face as you went into a supermarket, acutely aware of cameras following you around. You tried to act natural and happy, laughing at Jack’s crappy jokes and occasionally touching his arm.

Acting. It’s just acting. Deep breaths, be professional.

“Hey hey,” Jack said excitedly as you entered the dairy aisle, “How do ye like a cheese joke? Which cheese do ye use to lure a bear out o’ its cave?”

You sighed, “Camembert. Everyone knows that one.”

“Okay, what did the cheese say when it looked in the mirror?”

“Halloumi. Very droll,” you said sarcastically.

“Ye think ye can do any better?” he grinned.

You hummed, not wanting to indulge him, before giving in. “Which cheese do you use to hide a horse?”

“Mascarpone. Yer gonnnae have to do better than that.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Okay, what is a cheese-lover’s favourite type of music?”

He shrugged, and you smirked, “R ‘n’ Brie”.

He laughed earnestly. “Okee, that’s pretty good. But who is a cheese-lover’s favourite composer?”

“Who?”

“Mozart-rella.”

You chuckled, “Did you just come up with that one?”

He shrugged in faux humility, “It just came te me.”

“Well, it was a bit of a stretch, but it was pretty gouda.”

A laugh burst out of him, “Oh wow, I dinnae see that one coming.”

“Sorry, that wasn’t very mature of me,” you said with a wink. Smiling, he shook his head, “I think ye win, I cannae compete with that.”

You inclined your head and sauntered into the next aisle. He jogged after you, still chuckling.

 He came back to your flat with you, to complete the illusion, and helped you put the shopping away. You were sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, as Jack stood at the window, peeking out to see if the paparazzi had gone yet.

“Nah, there’s a couple still lingering.”

You took a sip, “I guess you can stick around for a bit then.”

He pursed his lips, suddenly uncomfortable, all his earlier jubilance dissolved.

“Might be here a while, it dinnae look like they’re plannin’ on leavin’ any time soon. One guy’s go’ a camping chair out.”

You scoffed dejectedly, “Best make yourself at home then.”

You suggested you put a film on after the uncomfortable silence became too palpable.

You sat on the same sofa, not touching but sharing a blanket. A couple of times you felt him looking at you, but you ignored it, along with the butterflies that seemed to be fluttering in your stomach under his gaze.

When the movie finished, Jack got up to check the window again. “Still there,” he sighed.

“How are you so okay with this?” you blurted out, the question all of a sudden too much to retain.

He looked at you, startled. You eyed the carpet, unable to meet his gaze.

“With what?”

“You know, this whole fake relationship thing,” you said, more to the carpet than him.

“I’m no’.”

You looked up at him in confusion, “But this morning, you seemed so… unfazed. It was almost like you were happy about it.”

He shook his head, a slight smile pulling sadly at his mouth. You stared for a moment, noting the shape of his lips for the first time, and the way his tongue darted out to wet them.

“Acting, love.”

You had felt yourself, somewhat against your will, warming to him, but with those two words your body went cold.

“Oh,” you breathed. You couldn’t understand why that seemed to hurt you so much. His eyes went wide with worry as he came to sit beside you again. “I didnae mean… It’s no’ you, I just,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’ like being used like this, any more than you do. I feel like I have no control over my life anymore. Don’ get me wrong, I love my job, but I hate all the politics that go with it.” He sat back, sighing gloomily. “A dinnae ken. I guess I just wanted te make the best of a bad situation.”

You shuffled a little closer to him.

 You stood on your doorstep, seeing Jack out. He hugged you and whispered, “I’m gonnae give ye a peck on the cheek, if ye don’ mind. Fer the cameras, ye know.”

You nodded into his shoulder, signalling your understanding, and he pulled away to place a tender kiss on your cheek. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin rather too much. He said goodbye and disappeared down the street with a final wave. You took a deep breath and shuddered after closing the door. Tears involuntarily welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t understand why. You refused to let them fall.

--- 

You opened the car door and were hit by the roar of screaming fans, at the premiere of your new film. You had been told to walk the carpet with Jack, even though he had arrived first, and act like a couple. However, you were under strict instructions to never explicitly say you were in a relationship, just coyly dodge questions and bat your eyelids. Jack appeared before you, in a dapper three-piece suit, looking more charming and handsome than you had ever seen him. He offered his hand to help you out of the car. You took it gratefully, and let him steady you. He stopped a moment, taking in the sight of you in an elegant black dress draped loosely over your shapely frame. He appeared to take a deep breath, before taking your arm in his and leading you down the carpet. He leaned down to your ear and whispered, “You look amazing, Y/N.”

The way his lips brushed against you made you shudder, and you felt a tug in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in the weeks since your staged shopping trip, and you’d tried to forget how vulnerable he had made you feel.

“You don’t have to keep up the façade when only I can hear what you’re saying,” you retorted, half joking but half bitter at these new reactions to this man that you had thought you didn’t like.

‘Maybe I’m going method,” he smirked. “Or maybe I just wanted to tell you what I was thinking.”

You felt your face get hot, and you didn’t know whether to smile or frown.

The whole event passed in a whirlwind of questions, mostly about your alleged relationship with Jack. Usually calm and composed, you felt flustered, distracted, so Jack did most of the talking. You couldn’t stop yourself from gazing at the way his jaw moved when he spoke, how his dimples played hide and seek. You were mesmerised by him.

 “There have been some rumours that this isn’t a genuine relationship, just staged for publicity, given that you’ve only been seen together the once.” One interviewer said, rather forwardly. She showed you a picture of the two of you embracing in your doorway, capturing that moment when he told you he was going to kiss your cheek. The photo betrayed you, revealing your glossy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“But it’s hard to argue with this picture, right? I know you’re actors but this looks pretty real to me.” You tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. You swallowed, but Jack saved you before you could embarrass yourself further.

“We’ve both been really busy with work just lately, ye know, so it’s difficult.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow, “Anything to say about this particular image?”

Jack laughed nonchalantly, “No, no. It was just nice to see each other. We really fostered a friendship durin’ the shoot so it was nice to have a good catch up.” What a load of bullshit.

You smiled in agreement, itching to move on.

You posed together for photos, smiling professionally. You stiffened when Jack put his arm around you, and your face fell when one photographer called out for him to kiss you.

Jack turned his face to the screen behind you and muttered, “Are ye alrigh’, love?”

You nodded, your breath a little shaky and not trusting your voice to hold out.

“Look, I know ye hate this, pretending to be with me, but it’ll be over soon.” His eyes met yours for a second and you felt yourself melting into him, “Can you smile just a little?”. The question was so gentle, so concerned, and tinged with sadness.

Your voice was fragile and hushed, but the words sailed across the space between you.  

“It’s not the ‘being with you’ that I don’t like. It’s pretending.”

For an excruciatingly long moment he was silent. The world fell away and all you could see was him; all you could hear was your drumming heartbeat. You searched his eyes for a sign, a hint, of his reaction, to no avail. Until his eyes skipped to your lips, so briefly you might have imagined it. You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, causing you to bite your bottom lip. Your chest heaved in anticipation and apprehension, as a cacophony of thoughts clamoured around in your head, infecting your chest, your hands, your stomach. You felt your skin tingle as Jack traced his fingers down your bare arm, before moving his other hand up to the vulnerable skin of your neck. He brushed the pad of his thumb along your jaw and held you there for a moment. You held your breath as he leant down and touched his lips to yours, the contact so light it could have been raindrops.

“I want ye to be mine,” he whispered, eyes still closed and forehead resting against yours. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You allowed the supressed smile to eclipse your face and muttered, brushing your nose against his, “Then I’m yours.”