#I wanted to give him faint like leopard spots but decided against it

[deloc-deltoca]

Ss4 raditz!!!! With too many artistic interpretations!!! (Reuploaded bc I forgot something)

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Living up to the Name pt 3

"Out of all possible scenarios, he chose this," Jack grumbled. As he and Ruggie tried to concentrate on finding a familiar smell.

"Don't be a buzzkill, Jack. Besides, she looked excited." The hyena pointed out. Recalling how the girl bounced excitedly at Leona's suggestion.

"Still, This feels wrong." He retorted.

Leona decided to move their training to the forest, in his words 'to give a fair advantage.'

"Oi! Jack, be quiet. You'll give away our position." A jaguar upperclassman harshly whispered. He and two more students were sniffing the air, then the jaguar froze.

"Shit, she-" A kick to his face cut him off before he could finish. The figure leaped up and landed on a tree branch high up.

"You guys have to do better than that to catch me~" A sing-song voice called from above.

Valerie smiled sweetly above them, but her mocking glare proved otherwise.

Thanks to her transformation, all her abilities have been drastically enhanced. She was faster, her kicks were more powerful, and her danger sense, or what she likes to call 'Bunny sense' was dialed up to a 100. Making it easier to avoid predators, aka Savanaclaw.

"Gotta go. I have more faces to kick and prides to ruin." She blew them a kiss and disappeared through the thicket of the trees.

"She's so hot."

Heads' snapped to the bear first-year, whose glazed eyes still stared at the spot she's been on.

"Fangirl about her later! We're still in the middle of something." The jaguar snapped at him. The bear blushed and muttered incoherently under his breathe.

Ruggie ran his fingers through his hair. They need a strategy to catch her, which involves teamwork, and knowing how NRC students are, this will be hell.

"I wonder how that lazy lion is doing?" He mused.

She was better at hiding than Leona gave her credit for.

The first half-hour of their training was spent looking for the girl. Which wasn't hard, with that delightful scent of hers. It leads them farther to the forest, where the foliage is dense enough to hide a dead body.

Clever, Herbivore. But not enough.

Honestly, he was a little disappointed with her idea. He was expecting a challenge since she loved giving it to him.

Tearing through the thicket, he and his dorm mates prowled the area. Each of them in various corners, in an attempt to locater her better.

"Senior Leona." A jackal beastman spoke up.

"What is it?"

"It's miss Valerie's scent. Something's up." He replied, sniffing the air.

Leona took a whiff, and sure enough, it smelled faint and all over the place?

"Masking your scent with mud. Herbivore? Heh, at least your trying."

The lion nodded to his dorm mates, who proceeded to split up and try to find their prey the girl.

The jackal perked up when the sweet aroma was much more potent. Nudging to a leopard beastman who seemed to realized as well.

As quietly as they could, they snuck up to a large hedge that permeated with her scent.

They crept closer and closer and closer...

They pounced. Once the students felt something soft, their hold tightened.

Leona paused from tearing another bush. Happy shouts were clear as day.

Good, they found her.

He jogged his way over to his fresh babies. However, as he got near, there was a change in the atmosphere. Silence replaced the noise; it was almost ominous.

Valerie's scent changed the most; it was so faint and different.

He finally reached the clearing. Their backs were turned to him, and he couldn't see what they were holding.

"Oi."

The jackal and leopard rapidly turned to face him, hiding their captured prey behind their back.

"S-Senior Leona!" The leopard stammered.

"What's up with you two? Didn't you shout you have her?"

"Uhh...W-wait! Senior Leona!" The jackal exclaimed in surprise when the lion marched towards them. Pushing them aside to see the girl-

That's not Valerie.

In front of him was a large and plump brown rabbit, and it was wearing her vest.

Everything up till now began to make sense, causing Leona to chuckle.

"So that's the real plan, huh?"

His ears twitched as the wind picked up. His eyes narrowed.

"Move back!" The lion ordered. Jumping to the shade of the trees.

But it was too late. The freshmen were down before they could do anything. Standing on top of their bodies was the very girl they were chasing.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out. You really are losing your edge, Kitty."

Valerie giggled at Leona's snarling face. She tugged her vest off the rabbit; before disappearing.

Leona could feel his blood boil. From frustration or excitement, he wasn't sure at this point, but he does know one thing.

Valerie just cemented her role as prey.

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

It's been hours, and not one of them had a chance to catch her. There were a few close calls, but she always managed to be two steps ahead of them. It doesn't help that she mocks them for every failed attempt. One of them got angry enough a tried to bite her, but Valerie kicked his jaw before he could.

On the bright side, the boys could feel their bodies improving. They still have a long way to go, but it's progress.

Valerie nimbly landed on the ground, catching her breath. It's been a long time she did something like this.

A wistful smile formed on her face as she remembered the times she and her mom played tag. Her mother used the game as a form of training for her speed, stamina, and agility. Being a competitive child she was, she got too into it.

'Thinking about it now, mom used a lot of ordinary games as a form of training.' The opal-eyed girl mused.

Wiping her brow, she glanced at the sky. She couldn't tell how much had passed, but she could guess it was nearly noon.

Suddenly, her ears stood up. There was aloud howling in the distance, followed by more animalistic sounds, till it became a wild symphony.

"The hell?" The brunette muttered in confusion. She winced and held her head. The downside of having enhanced hearing is that everything is louder, and this wild symphony giving her a headache.

"Pull it together, Valerie. You dealt with worse." She mumbled, even slapping her face for good measure.

With new vigor, Valerie pushed forward through the forest, even as her whole body screamed to find somewhere to hide.

Sigh, prey instincts.

Though she kept her opal eyes ahead, she in-tuned with her surroundings. Her ears now worked as antennas, constantly on high alert to warn her of predators.

Her ears twitched; she jumped left just in time to dodge a pouncing jaguar beastman. A low growl escaped the jaguar's throat and pounced again.

Valerie waited till he was near enough and delivered a front kick beneath his jaw. He staggered back in pain, giving her enough time to rush forward, and low swept him. He groaned in pain once his back felt the impact.

"You predators are really losing your edge if you kept getting your asses beaten by a rabbit. But then again, it's me" The girl deviously smiled at the fallen student.

The girl sensed another presence behind her and jumped to the trees. She narrowed her eyes at the culprit.

"Such an arrogant statement coming from a tiny herbivore. Looks like we have to put you in your place."

Leona emerged from the thicket with a cocky smirk in place and an unreadable glint in his eyes.

Valerie remained silent, simply assessing the number of beastmen present. There were seven of them; easy. There was also no sign of Jack and Ruggie, but they could be hiding.

"How can you call my words arrogant? I'm simply stating the truth." She retorted, smirking down at him.

"Let's just see how true your words are when I have my fangs on your neck."

"Before that, perhaps should I suffocate you between my thighs?"

"Heh, only after I crush your legs."

"Are...They flirting?" Questioned a bewildered ocelot beastman.

"I thought she was stupid when it comes to romance?" Added a dingo.

"Try not to think about it." Advised a lynx.

"Sorry, kitty kay, I may have agreed to help you guys in training, but I'm not going to bow down to you."

"Likewise, Herbivore."

A mischievous smile formed on her face. The girl launched herself out of the tree and aimed a kick to his face, but he blocked it. Valerie quickly switched to jabbing his left side.

Leona slammed his eyes shut, a deep growl resonated within him. He attempted to grab her arm. But she leaped up and delivered a front kick to his chin, pushing him away from her. However, she was now surrounded by other beastmen.

Valerie avoided an oncoming punch from the dingo and delivered one to his gut. He recoiled in pain and clutched his stomach. Her ears twitched and sidestepped, just in time for a charging lynx to crash into him.

Twitching again, she turned around and caught the ocelot's leg; she spun him around while knocking out three more before throwing him.

Satisfied that she took care of the beta males, she turned her attention back to the alpha. Only to realize that he disappeared.

Her whole body was on high alert. She took a battle stance, surveying her surrounding. She cursed herself for being so careless; he used them as decoys. Like she did.

"Touché, Kitty." She muttered.

Deciding she stayed long enough, she ran in the opposite direction.

Valerie bit her bottom lip once she heard footsteps behind her.

He really wanted to turn this into a real hunt.

Fine, she'll give him one.

Increasing her speed, she sprinted through the area utilizing the trees as boosters.

She glanced behind her and clenched her jaw. Leona was nowhere in sight. She had two ideas: Either he took a detour and was waiting to pounce on her or, she lost him; she hoped it was the latter.

Biting her inner cheek, she was about to take a turn when she heard footsteps. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding a claw to her face.

"I was wondering where you were, never thought you actually risk an ambush." The opal-eyed girl remarked as she kept her distance from him, taking up a fighting stance.

"If I'm up against you? I'll try anything." The male retorted mirroring her movements.

The wolf and rabbit glared at each other, waiting for one of them to make a move. It was as if the area went still around them, blocking out all noise; only the thumping of their hearts was heard.

Jack was the first to move. He ran forward with the girl following the suit, but once close enough, she leaped up and stomped on his head. He staggered back, gritting his teeth and holding his head. Valerie landed behind him, giving a swift kick to his side; the wolf fell to his side, hissing at the impact.

A deep growl escaped his throat when he heard her laughter; he swiped underneath her legs. The girl fell back, wide-eyed, and internally cursed herself for letting her guard down.

Picking himself up, he grabbed her ankle and flung her to the trees. The girl shrieked in pain, coughing; she found specks of blood on the ground, her blood. Although she struggled to stand up, she had enough energy to avoid Jack's next attack.

Jack swung his fist to her face, but she intercepted by grabbing his arm and flipped him to the ground. He grunted in pain when Valerie placed her foot on his chest.

"I thought I might return a favor fluffy." She smirked at his fallen body. He glared up at her. She was about to make another comment when her ears twitched, frowning; she leaped up to the trees and glared at the intruder.

"Damn, and here I was going to surprise you. Then again, those ears of yours work just like satellites, shishishishi." Ruggie laughed as she strolled through the area.

"I keep getting more surprises."

Just like lighting, she sprung herself out of the tree and delivered a direct kick to Ruggie's gut. The poor hyena coughed up blood upon the impact and curled up into a ball once he fell on the ground. All the while groaning in pain.

"And here I thought he would at least withstand half of it, oh well." She ducked down, already sensing Jack's incoming punch, and kicked his chest.

It knocked him a few feet away from her; Jack felt something dribble down his chin, wiping he found bits of blood coating it.

Clenching his fist; a low growl erupted his throat; charging, he swung his fist narrowly, hitting her face. Valerie responded by front kicking his chin; Jack grunted but didn't falter in his movements.

Valerie unleashed a barrage of kicks, driving him back until he felt the tree behind him. Jack gritted his teeth but bared with it; he waited until he found an opening between her kicks. She paused for a second, but it was all Jack needed. He socked her in the gut, successfully pushing her back.

She gasped at the impact, wincing at the pain on her stomach that she failed to notice Jack grabbing her body and slammed her to the ground. He reached to grab her ears, but the opal-eyed girl rolled away and swiped under his legs. Jack fell back, glaring up at the now standing girl.

"You know you can't beat me." She panted.

Blood was dripping down at the side of her face. The sun was behind her forming a shadow over her eyes giving them a glow. She looked like a predator.

"I know, but he can." He countered.

Before Valerie could decipher his words. She was lifted up again, but this time pinned to the ground.

"Looks like you forgot something, Herbivore." Hot breathe tickled her face as familiar hands kept a firm grip on her.

"A lion always waits for their prey to lower their guard."

________________

"Ughhh, it hurts." Ruggie groaned. He laid on a bed with an ice pack on his stomach.

He and the rest of the Savanclaw students are in the infirmary. Each of them was the victim of the girl's brutal beatings.

"How the hell is someone so tiny is that insanely strong?" The leopard beastman muttered, nursing his jaw.

"The question is, is she even human?" The ocelot commented, bandages covering his body.

Speaking of her...

Valerie hissed when the ghost rubbed a special ointment of her back to heal the swelling. She was behind a curtain, giving her the privacy she needed.

"And there we go, you can put your shirt on and make sure to not put too much strain on yourself, young lady. I heard from the ghosts in Ramshackle you're the reckless type." The ghost gave her a mirthful smile. She chuckled.

"Yeah, I will."

"No, she won't." Grim chimed in.

He sat next to her on the bed and shot the girl a knowing look, to which she laughed nervously.

"I promise, really."

"You better, and you call me troublesome."

"Okay, okay, let's go." She picked him and stepped out of the curtain. She winced a bit when she saw how badly bruised they all looked.

"You really went all out on them." The cat monster commented; almost half of them were covered in bandages and band-aids.

"You know me, I always love a challenge." Her grin was filled with mischief.

She walked up to her favorite Savanaclaw trio. Jack was getting his face treated since she kicked there the most while Leona sat next to Ruggie since he had minor injuries.

"Hey, guys, who are you feeling?" She asked.

"Like a truck ran me over." The hyena retorted. The girl nervously laughed.

"Right, sorry."

"Don't be. You went all out; it's insulting if you didn't." Jack interjected. He hissed when the swab touched his hips lower lip.

"Don't talk, young man." Scolded the ghost.

"You were pretty good out there, Valerie. But you let your guard down too soon. Your lucky it was only training. Otherwise, you would have gotten eaten up." The lion smirked.

"As if I let you." She huffed.

"But, it has been a good experience. Might as well do this again next time." He added.

"Sure, I love to kick your butts and win next time." She gave a devil-like smile.

"Anyway, I have to wash up and head to Heartslyabul." She turned around, only bumped into the beastmen.

"Ah, I'm sorry-" She didn't get to finish when he briskly walked past her. Valerie observed his appearance; he had a pumpkin-colored reptile tail with burgundy fins and bronze horns. His body was wrapped in gauze and had bandages covering his arms.

"Don't take it too personally. He's still not used to being beaten by a woman." Leona spoke up.

"Mm? What do you mean?" The girl was puzzled.

"You see the guys with dragon tails?" He asked. Glancing around, she did notice a few of them. She locked eyes with one, he immediately looked away.

"They're from Cloud Valley; in their culture, women are treated lesser than men, always expected to be submissive, fragile, and obedient. The complete opposite to the women in the Afterglow Savannah." He elaborated.

"So it's a big shocked for them to know such a tiny prey can beat them so easily."

That filled her with pride. Her family raised her to be independent and strong; and above all, never take shit from misogynists.

"Oi! Kemonohito!" A voice boomed. Valerie winced at the frequency of his voice. Everyone's heads turned to see a dragonkin with a scarlet tail and white fins standing in front of her.

"I demand a re-match! Your abilities were just enhanced because your half rabbit. I refuse to acknowledge defeat by a woman!" He boomed.

"Maybe next time." She simply replied.

"Oh? What's this? Already backing down? Expected for a female to be too scared-"

"No. I already have plans this afternoon, not to mention your too injured. The opal-eyed girl interrupted, taking note of his bandaged face and body.

"This is nothing! Fight me!"

"Young man, no shouting." One ghost staff scolded, quickly leading him away from the girl and her monster.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go. See you guys."

________________

Valerie hummed a random tune as she dried her hair. Thanks to Amane giving her his credit card, she was able to buy the things she desperately needed, such has extra cleaning supplies , bathroom necessities and a hair dryer.

Putting the hair dryer down, she examined herself on the mirror. She wore a Heartslyabul uniform, switching out the pants with a pleated thigh length skirt, a white thigh-high on her right leg, a white crew length sock with black diamond pattern on her left and red and white sneakers. She also tied her ears with a black ribbon around them.

"Are you almost done?" Grim lazily drawled. He was sprawled on the bed, his pudgy stomach on display.

"Already am." She answered.

"Good, cause your phone was ringing." He rolled to his left, revealing the girl's phone. Picking it up and opening it to her messages, the sender read 'Braincell 1'

'Yo Val, you and Grim have to walk here by yourselves. Me and chicken boy can't pick you up cause we have an emergency and it requires all dorm members cooperation.'

She texted back

'k'

Picking up her little gremlin, strolled out and headed downstairs.

"Where Ace and Deuce?" questioned Grim.

"They have an emergency which required all dorm members." She answered, walking out of the house.

"Huh, probably something related to food." The cat proclaimed, as he climbed up to her shoulders and draped himself there.

She merely hummed.

They arrived in mirror hall. As she stepped in, Valerie almost got knocked down by a rushing students.

"S-sorry, miss Valerie." He apologized before running again.

Glancing at each other, the Ramshackle duo continued their journey, all the while watching students tripping over their feet looking for something. It wasn't long before they spotted a familiar redhead and bluette by the bushes.

"Damn it, where are they? They couldn't gotten that far." Ace muttered.

"Maybe we should try a different spot." Suggested Deuce.

"Guys?" A feminine voice snapped them out and turned around.

Their eyes bulged out when they saw her ears. A palpable silence overtook them, until...

"Pffftt-"

All eyes turned to Ace as he covered his mouth with right arm, and shaking. Finally he blew up.

"HAHAHAAHA! Oh great seven this hilarious! You're an actual rabbit!" He kept on laughing. Deuce had small blush on his face when he stared at her, she looked like a porcelain doll.

"You know very well I hate those." Valerie monotonous voice rang out. A displeased look covered her face from being compared to an item she hated the most.

Crap, he thought out loud.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" Deuce bowed, which made Ace laughed louder.

"Its fine." She huffed. "Anyway, what happened? What's the emergency?"

Ace shut up and Deuce tentatively bit his lower lip.

"Its the hedgehogs, they broke out in their cages again. The unbirthday party will start soon and no one has found them yet." The peacock-eyed boy answered.

"Riddle almost lost control when he found out, and its not getting any better." The cherry-eyed boy added.

"I could help." The girl offered. "My ears are practically antennas, and they've been a great help in dealing with Savanaclaw, I think I can find the hedgehogs in no time."

They seem to contemplate her words, before nodding to each other.

"Alright, Princess, we're counting on you." Ace grinned.

The girl gave a mock salute before taking Grim off her and dropping him on Ace. She sprinted away, she picked a small clearing.

Valerie crouched down and closed her eyes. She blocked out the noise surrounding her, focusing on the chitter and footsteps of the hedgehogs. Breathing softly she waited for even the faintest noise.

Instantly her ears twitched, perking a bit she turned to the left. Sprinting off she found a red and blue hedgehogs under a tree. Valerie slowly made her towards them and crouch to their height.

"Hi." She gently called out. Slowly reaching her hand out, it sniffed it before coming near and rubbing itself on it.

"You guys are bunch escape artist huh?" She mused, delicately picking it up. Her ears perked up, catching a faint conversation. Following till she found herself with two mobs.

"M-miss Valerie!" They exclaimed in surprised, especially to her ears.

"Here." She placed them on their hands.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Now if you excuse me, I got more to find."

She did this a few more times: She would listen to the hedgehogs, find them and give them to a nearby Heartslyabul student. So far she found at least 20 or so for half an hour.

Valerie huffed and fanned herself using her shirt, she having a particularly hard time in finding these guys. The tiny things were master on invasion and giving her a good challenge. Inhaling she concentrated once more, walking silently as she did in hopes to hear the better.

Finally, soft rustling in the bushes caught her attention. Nimbly making her way to the source, she pulled it back to to find a red, green and orange hedgehogs staring up at her.

"C'mere." She scooped them up and made her way to the nearest students, whose hair perfectly matched the hedgehogs she's carrying.

They blinked at the sight before them, heat rising to their cheeks at the adorable sight.

"V-Valerie." Riddle stuttered, clearly didn't expect this.

"Yeah, hi." She sheepishly grinned.

"This is an interesting turn of events?" Commented Trey, fixing his gaze on her ears.

"Vally, you look so cute!" The strawberry blonde gushed, taking out his phone and snapping pictures of the girl.

"Haha, thank you Cater." She did cute little poses. Holding the hedgehogs up to her face.

"#Cutie! #Rabbitears #foundthehedgehogs #livinguptothename." He quickly uploaded it.

Riddle quickly regained his composure and took the hedgehogs out of her hands.

"Thank you, Valerie now we can resume the unbirthday party."

"So." Deuce started. "What happened to you?"

After placing the hedgehogs in their cages, everyone was seated on the tables and enjoying the party, and were quite curious of her ears.

The girl summarized on what happened yesterday and this morning. Ace snickered at the end of her explanation.

"Jeez, Val, your a total disaster magnet." He ran his finger on her ears.

"It gets worse when I'm with you guys." She teased.

"Your so mean, Princess!" Ace dramatically placed his hand over his heart, 'hurt' by her words.

"But you look so cute! Look how much likes your photo is getting." The leaf-green eyed male showed her his phone, which was gradually getting likes.

"They don't make you uncomfortable, do they?" Trey asked, as he handed her another strawberry tart. Which she gratefully accepted.

"Besides having more sensitive hearing, I'm good" She replied. She moved her hands up, away from Grim's greedy outstretched paws. Trey handed him a blueberry cheesecake.

"This transformation has been a great help, especially when dealing with Savanaclaw. You should have seen the amount of students I sent in the infirmary." She added with a giggle.

"There was even a dragon there that wanted to challenge her. But he got dragged off." Grim chimed in, taking large bite of his cheesecake.

"A dragon?"

"He brushed off my abilities because of the potion." Just remembering his words gave her a headache.

Ugh, if mom was in Cloud Valley she would have made every man there submit to her.

"But in the end, you still sustain injuries." Riddle interjected, examining her bandaged arm. He sipped his tea as the girl's face flushed.

"T-that's a mistake in my part. I got ahead of myself, I would have still beaten Leona if I had been more aware of my surroundings." Frustration crinkled her eyes, with those ears of hers should would have heard him and at least give him a black eye.

Mom would have scold her for her carelessness.

"Aww, don't make that face Vally; let's just enjoy the party." Cater coaxed bring her and Grim for a selfie, which was soon joined by Ace, Deuce and Trey who grabbed Riddle with him.

"Say cheese!"

________________

"Miss her ears already." Deuce mumbled, as he stared at the girl.

As promised, Crewel gave her the antidote and she reverted back to her normal self. Although, some were beginning to miss her ears.

They just looked so cute on her.

It was P.E and they were doing some warm up stretches. Valerie was just doing splits when a shadow fell over her.

"Kemonohito! Re-match now!"

This guy...

"We're in class. Can we do this later?" She reasoned.

His face twisted in anger, before a whistle blew.

"Alright! I prepared an obstacle course! Whoever reaches the finish line first in the shortest amount of time will receive a plus points!"

One by one the boys took the course, Vargas always saved Valerie for last cause he knows that she might destroy everything.

Vargas focused his gaze on Valerie.

"Kemonohito you're up!"

As she took her position, she examined the field. High walls, mannequins, vaults and beams, perfect for her rabbit self, but it wasn't there anymore. She shook her head, she trained for years, she didn't need it.

The whistle blew

She blurred through the field. Destroying the mannequins and jumping over the high walls with ease. By the time she finished it, she left a path of destruction.

"2:05s! The fastest one yet! Fantastic job, but next time don't destroy everything. Seriously I just got this raise." The man grumbled more as he scribbled on his clipboard.

Meanwhile, her idiot trio stared at her, shock written on their faces. When she walked up to them, they bombarded her with questions.

"How did you do that!?"

"Can you teach me!

"I thought you weren't a rabbit anymore."

All she could do was shrug.

"Maybe I got the leftover DNA. But whatever the case is, I love it."

She had a wide smile on their face, oh this was going to be good.

A/N: Cloud Valley belongs to @phoenix-manga

@poisonapplecakes1312

[kessielrg]

[DA+KH] Bashful

Summary: Inspired by @chibi-mushroom‘s Dragon Age AU for the Kingdom Hearts series, in which Anora (OC/KHUX Player stand-in) meets a mysterious Orlesian merchant named Brain and the duo immediately hit it off. [established Ephemer/OC][hinted Brain/OC][pre Act 1 of Dragon Age 2]

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,015 words

If you like this story, please reblog!

-

Walking alone in Lowtown gave Anora goosebumps. No small wonder, really, what with her being a woman, and a mage, and being about the right size to simply snatch up without a second glance. She had learned by now to keep her coin in a small burlap sack, wrapped tightly around her wrist and close to her body at all times. If worse came to worse, she could use it as a makeshift weapon.

Every hawker shouting to draw attention to their pop up shops made her flinch. It was almost too loud. It was never this noisy in the Circle, and it had been even quieter at the rehabilitation retreat Ephemer had been admitted to for awhile. At least she could still be fairly invisible in Lowtown- assuming no one tried to kidnap her first. Anora did her best to avoid most of the noise. She eventually found herself at a modest stall that held some basic supplies on offer.

The young woman bit her lower lip as she looked over the potions and wares for sale. She didn't notice that the seller of these items was arranging a few more expensive items in the back. She didn't hear the sound of an odd mewling from something inside the stall, drawing the attention of the stall's proprietor. Anora still barely registered when he came to the front of the stall, looking her over without a hint of bias.

“Is there anything I can interest you with, madam?”

Despite being a gentle, warm voice, Anora nearly jumped three feet in the air. She looked up at the merchant with wide, terrified eyes. She was greeted with gentle ones staring right back at her. No shame, no judgment, just a genuine curiosity.

“Oh, no, no.” the young woman stammered, backing a little away from the stall. Her face was starting to grow hot. Why was she blushing? She wasn't that embarrassed. Was she? “I was just looking to sell some excess healing potions I had. Nothing special.”

“Is that all?” the merchant mused with a teasing grin. He fingered the tip of his fedora and tipped it to her. “Well, I could take a look at them for you. I pay pretty fair coin for a good commodity.”

Anora shrunk a little. She did say she was looking to get rid of her excess health potions. This merchant also seemed to be rather nice. When was the last time anyone was that nice to her? Even Ephemer had to hide how much he cared when he was with the other Templars. Despite herself, Anora carefully placed her burlap sack on the counter, ready for him to inspect her potions and poultices.

“Before we do business,” the merchant spoke up, offering his hand to her, “Let's introduce ourselves proper. My name is Brain.”

“Brain?” Anora repeated in surprise.

To this, the merchant gave a light chuckle. “I have many other names, but I wanted to know how that one would sound on your tongue. Ferelden, right? Kirkwall's seeing more of them by the day.”

Still unsure on why she was so bashful, Anora quickly nodded her head in agreement. Her own arm extended to accept Brain's hand shake.

“I am Anora.” she carefully said.

“The pleasure is mine, Anora.” Brain smiled; his hand gently clasped in hers, and it gave it three shakes before breaking them apart. “Now, let's see what you have in that little rucksack of yours.”

There was a polite little nod from the young woman before opening her sack of healing items. Brain let out a low whistle at the sheer quantity of them. The vials that held the potions gave off a warm, comforting glow as the vial itself revealed the bright red liquid inside. The poultices were made with just as much care; each placed inside a steel tin and wrapped with colored cloth- a date written in black ink indicating when she had made that particular poultice.

As Brain looked over everything, a cold chill ran up Anora's spine that made her look over her shoulder. It almost felt like someone was watching her. Sure, many of the Templars at Kirkwall knew she was a mage, and some were sent to watch her while Ephemer trained or was attending to his duties. But she never actually felt them watching her. Some would go out of their way just to escort her from place to place. Perhaps not kindly, but they definitely didn't hide what they were doing. None of them would try to hide from her if they were sent to watch either, come to think of it. Would they?

“These are neatly made.” Brain noted- succeeding in scaring the young woman for the second time that day. “Not perfect, of course. But pure elfroot? That stuff's in hot commodity around here. It'll be potent, if nothing else.” He then set the potion down to look her over. “Almost too potent for a tiny little waif like you. Are you trying to cure a dragon or something?”

A nervous laugh escaped Anora's lips. In a small voice she admitted, “I am the caretaker to one of the new Templar recruits.”

“Ah.” Brain nodded. “May I ask how?”

The young woman shrank a little as she shook her head. “Long story.” she told him- her voice even smaller than before. Brain observed her, slightly tipping his hat upward.

“Very well then,” he decided with a shrug, “I'll be the last person to judge a person's past.”

Anora offered a faint smile in thanks. For a moment, the merchant simply admired her before turning his attention back to her wares. There was quite a bit of silence between the two as Brain looked over everything. Possibly several moments in, Anora started to hear an odd mewling sound from inside the stand, but Brain had ignored it. The mewls grew louder until something suddenly leaped onto the shop counter.

A shriek almost escaped the young woman's lips when all she saw was something gray with black spots. Brain was immediately at attention, but in finding what had jumped up, he laughed at her. Anora took a moment to regain her breath before realizing that the creature was a snow leopard. But… much smaller; possibly not much smaller than a standard cat. It didn't seem like a kitten, though, and it certainly looked like the pictures of adult leopards in the zoology books back in the Circle. Her demeanor easily went from surprised horror to complete bewilderment.

“Are you afraid of animals?” Brain teasingly asked her, petting the snow leopard.

“I... had a sheltered childhood.” Anora informed him with a wary voice. “But I don't remember leopards being so… tiny, though.”

Brain gave her a little smirk, giving the little leopard a rather absent stroke along its back.

“Ragnar's a special case.” he told her with a bemused voice. “All the fun protective natures of a snow leopard, scaled down to nothing more than the size of a house cat. If you'll believe it, he was the largest of his litter.”

Anora cocked an eyebrow at him, turning her attention back to the small creature. At the time, the snow leopard, Ragnar, turned its attention to her as well. The pygmy leopard left its master to better scope out the newcomer. It sniffed at Anora with interest- something that she tried rather hard not to recoil at. When Ragnar started to rub his head against Anora, the young woman very carefully started to pet him. Ragnar seemed to enjoy this; a small purring noise could be heard from the creature.

“Huh.” the merchant wondered. He placed a hand at the back brim of his hat, tilting it upwards a bit. “He doesn't usually take to strangers that easily. Must really like you...”

“Is that bad?”

Brain looked up at her- a small twinkle shown in his eye as he said, “No. Not at all. It just means that you're destined for great things.”

Anora's eyes grew wide as she looked up at Brain. “Y-you're joking!” she stammered. It was a bit hard to tell, but there was a small blush placed on her cheeks from embarrassment. “You're just saying that!”

Brain let out a light chuckle, throwing up a hand in promise. “Swear on my life it's the truth.” he told her. “And on the official adoption certificate from the Black Emporium. Would you like to see it?”

“No thanks...”

“Suit yourself.” Brain teased with a shrug. “Now, where were we before getting so rudely interrupted...”

Brain continued to go through what Anora had brought with her. As he pulled out a piece of vellum, an inkwell, and a feathered pen to write out a receipt of sale, Ragnar gave a disinterested stretch before deciding to take a nap on the counter. Anora kept her attention more focused on the little snow leopard than to Brain- who was trying to tell her how much coin he was about to give her. He laughed when he caught her near grimace, and he didn't break her thoughts as he gently placed what he owed her into her sack.

“Well,” he finally announced as he tied off the sack for her, “I suppose we're done here. It was nice doing business with you, Anora.”

That finally got Anora out of her trance. Was it really time for them to depart so soon?

“How much longer are you going to be at Kirkwall?” she asked, almost a bit too quickly.

“I might be around for another week or two.” he said to her. “I've finally found good help with my main shop in Val Royeaux, so I'm not expected back immediately. If I give them a fair enough warning, I could linger behind for a bit longer.” Brain then tilted his head at her and gave her a sly smile. “Why?”

Anora immediately looked away. “I-I...” she started to stammer, “I was just curious. It gets rather boring waiting for E- my Templar to finish with his training or duties.”

“You can't wait by Templar Hall for him?”

“Another long story.” Anora bitterly informed him. Brain gave an understanding nod in agreement.

“Business in Lowtown is usually pretty slow.” he then informed her. “Perhaps I could put in a request to change locations to the Gallows for the rest of my stay. Those Templars are always buying potions and such- I might actually turn a profit for once.”

Anora's eyes widened in surprise. “You don't have to do that!” she said. But the merchant only laughed.

“Anora-bird, if the street walkers around here were half as pretty as you, I'd reconsider. But as it stands, I could use a change of location. Perhaps we'll meet up again soon. Who knows in a backwards town like this?”

Again feeling her face heat up in a humble bashfulness, Anora offered Brain a polite little nod. She once more wrapped her burlap sack tightly around her wrist -now a bit heavier from the coin he had given her- before starting to head back. The young woman barely looked up as she scurried to Lowtown's main entrance- and it was by accident that she bumped into someone on the way out. She looked up at who she had run into, and nearly staggered back in a horrified shock.

“Knight-Commander!” Anora gasped. “I-I didn't see you...”

The Knight-Commander did not answer her. Instead, he chose to glare at her with an unreadable expression. Anora let out a nervous laughter as she moved away from him, hurrying back to Templar Hall. With an arched eyebrow, Sephiroth watched her leave before turning his attention to Brain. The merchant, who had been observing Anora for a moment as she parted, had turned his attention to the poultices and potions she had given him. As he admired the slightly glowing mixtures in their bottles, he absently gave his pygmy snow leopard strokes along its back. At this, Sephiroth's eyebrows furrowed.

“Interesting.” he decided, in monotone, before also making his way back to Templar Hall. “Very interesting indeed.”

[spellcastersjudgement]

23 nd tutorship ^v^

i apologize in advance i know this is an ignorant length but i cant help myself with THE OTP i hope you enjoy it!!! thank u bigly for sending in this ask <3333

if yall are on mobile i apologize in advance sometimes the read more links dont work whoops :((((

#23: ‘take my jacket’

 Jaden loved to party and he wouldn’t apologize for that. Tournaments, interviews, endorsements, even a season finale of a TV show—all excuses to let loose and fill up no less than three trash bags with beer cans, pass out with his shoes on, and wake up groggy yet fulfilled the next day. Being a pro duelist had been the best move he’d ever made in his life, not just for the money and pictures and love of the game, but because even boring opening ceremonies or long-ass photoshoots ended with everyone getting smashed for no other reason than that they could. It was paradise.

This party fucking sucked though.

It didn’t suck in like, a traditional sense. The ballroom was beautiful, with vaulted ceilings and elegantly decorated tables with little placards for their names and everyone was dressed nicely. He was sitting at his assigned seat, staring at the nameplate and sipping prosecco, feeling like he should climb up onto the table and dance to liven things up a bit. Though the urge was strong and he’d downed four of these flutes of angry grape juice, he instead pulled out his phone from his front pocket—yeah, he was wearing a blazer with a fancy inside pocket, something he had never expected to wear in his life—and scrolling through his texts, most of them from Syrus, who was lamenting that they weren’t together to watch Aster and Zane’s televised foreplay. Jaden felt guilty but he wished he’d had a duel scheduled tonight. Zane and Aster had gotten out of attending this party (he used the term loosely) with Alexis, but this was a by week for him and he had no excuse.

Originally when Bastion had told him that he had to attend this—gala, that had been the word—this gala he was hype, ready to hang off his boyfriend’s arm and be the pro duelist trophy boyfriend to Bastion’s physics doctoral candidate, preferably hammered and bragging about how Bastion and Alexis had been awarded a competitive research grant for an assload of money. That was the plan, at least. Then again, he was under the impression that these galas were similar to his version of a party, where everyone showed up hella drunk and someone lost their pants thirty minutes in for whatever reason. The fancy name should’ve tipped him off, he thought, texting Syrus that he might have to fake a stomachache so he could dip out early, but in his defense he assumed the fancy name was because it was a university-sponsored thing not because it was stuffy as hell.

Syrus sent him back a sternly worded text that he should be happy for Bastion and that his boyfriend had put up with all of their drunken asses more times than he could count. Jaden could suck it up for one night.

Wrinkling his nose and feeling guilt swell up in him, Jaden locked his phone and put it back in his blazer—it was Bastion’s blazer actually, as Jaden didn’t own one nor did he remember to get one even though he’d been informed of this a week ago—and downed the rest of his wine, setting the empty glass back on the tablecloth. This would probably be more tolerable if he hadn’t immediately been separated from Bastion and Alexis, who had been accosted by professors and the program director almost as soon as they’d walked in. From his spot, he could see them standing with who he recognized as their faculty adviser, probably talking about something super smart and sciencey. This shit had gone on for the past forty-five minutes and Jaden could probably just walk over and interject himself, but what would he even say? The original plan didn’t seem like it would work as he definitely couldn’t grab Bastion’s ass and make off-color jokes about how his dick-sucking lips had won them that grant with this crowd of old-ass academics.

Bastion did look good in that suit though. Jaden probably wouldn’t be able to resist getting a handful of his ass when those slacks were stretched so tightly over it, already thinking of how he should drop something in front of him so he’d pick it up and give Jaden an excellent view. Looking down at his own ensemble, he wondered how Bastion had let him out of the house. He was wearing a purple leopard print button-up and had cuffed his dress pants and had refused to wear socks with these dress shoes unless he could wear his Winged Kuriboh ones. That had earned him an exasperated look from his boyfriend, who was busy ironing his own boring white shirt. Apparently the line was at Winged Kuriboh socks, as Bastion hadn’t said anything about his outfit when they’d left.

He could probably go over there, maybe just stand between Bastion and Alexis and not say anything. It’d be better than being the only person sitting at a table alone, even if what they were talking about would definitely go over his head and there wasn’t enough dancing for it to be a real party. Getting on the table and dancing was starting to become a more attractive idea by the second.

They’d been dating long enough for there to be a little voice in his head he called his Inner Bastion, which served as both a voice of reason and about eighty percent of his impulse control (the other twenty percent was divided between Jesse, Jim, and Syrus, though Sy was usually an enabler). It even had a cute British accent. Currently, it was telling him that if the choices were between dancing on the table and suffering through academics, he should go with the lesser of two evils.

It didn’t bar him from getting more alcohol, though, which was good because he definitely needed it. Just because everyone else was still upright and had all their clothes and there hadn’t been an impromptu karaoke battle didn’t mean he couldn’t have his own little party. Bastion could carry him out if needed.

“Thanks, dude,” Jaden was glad their assigned table was by the server station, meaning he didn’t have to go more than a few feet to get more of this angry grape juice. Too bad they didn’t have anything harder or else he’d be about ten rum and pineapples deep.

A real party should be impossible to navigate, everyone sweaty and close together, the music too loud to talk over unless you were right against someone’s ear or yelling so loud your throat hurt the next day. The most difficult part of reaching Bastion was walking sideways between chairs so he didn’t have to disturb anyone sitting down, which was a total bummer. He’d seen Bastion at a party with his other PhD candidate friends and they could throw down. Fucking school ruining everything, he thought sourly, trying to keep his face neutral as he got closer.

Just like he’d predicted, he could hear the adviser talking to Bastion about his upcoming exam, which sounded like gibberish to Jaden. He knew what an integral was and the difference between speed and velocity but other than that he couldn’t keep up, no matter how many times he helped Bastion study.

Deciding it was best not to interrupt their discussion of stellar evolution, which would be a great name for a mixtape, he tried to formulate a plan of attack to stand between them without looking awkward as hell. Alexis and Bastion were too damn close though, which he normally thought was adorable because they were best friend science buddies and Bastion’s tie matched Alexis’ dress, which wasn’t relevant but still insanely cute, and there would be no way for him to stand there without squeezing in and being a disruption. He’d just have to stand by Bastion’s side and take his chances. Hopefully none of these academic wizards would want to talk to him because the only thing he knew well was dueling and that probably wouldn’t fly with these nerds.

Jaden loved nerds. Bastion was a massive nerd and he loved him a lot, especially when he got excited about something and he’d start rambling, sticking a pencil behind his ear and gesticulating (usually at an equation he’d written on his office wall) and Jaden was totally content to pay his tuition with that sweet, sweet dueling cash if it meant he got to see him so happy. Jaden loved that kinda nerd. These stuffy nerds were a different story, completely uncharted territory. They probably didn’t cry tears of happiness when they finished a hard problem and probably didn’t look up at the stars and talk about extraterrestrial life and how rad space travel would be. That was the flavor of nerd he was used to.

Bastion was in the middle of saying something about electrons when Jaden came to stand next to him, their shoulders brushing, announcing his presence in the most subtle way Jaden had ever cut into a conversation ever. Damn, he should be flouncing over, totally drunk, kissing Bastion in the middle of the ballroom and shouting that his boyfriend was mega smart and that tie would be used to bind Bastion to the headboard later. Instead he had a flute glass and was sliding an arm around his boyfriend, trying to be quiet and unassuming. What fucking alternate universe was he in?

 “—the expansion of—” Bastion stopped speaking to look down at Jaden, smiling once he realized it wasn’t some random person leaning on him. “Dr. Zweinstein, this is Jaden. I don’t think you two have met yet.”

Of course Bastion would be nice and make introductions.

“Hey,” Jaden switched the glass to his left hand so he could shake with his right. “Bas has told me a lot about you.”

Hopefully that counted as enough of a conversation. Bastion was very warm and his arm was now around Jaden, which was awesome because now he could lean into his boyfriend. Normally Jaden would talk more, but this whole situation was lowkey uncomfortable and he was out of his element given how fancy this gala was. Gala. What a dumb word. It sounded so fancy and exciting yet it was boring as hell.

“He’s told me about you as well,” Dr. Zweinstein spoke with a faint German accent and Jaden wondered if PhD programs only brought in people with sick accents to make them seem more exotic. Alexis was the only American he’d met in the parade of Bastion’s higher education friends. “You’re a duelist?”

“Yeah,” Jaden wanted them to go back to talking about physics. Zweinstein was the same height but he still felt like he was being looked down on, his eyes looking over the rim of his glasses and a faint downturn of his wrinkled old mouth. Yeah, that was about right. Bastion never made him feel like he was dumb or anything, except when he was being really dumb and that usually involved some scheme he and Syrus had cooked up that might risk them bodily harm or gastrointestinal discomfort.

“I’m sure that’s exciting.” Zweinstein didn’t sound genuine, more condescending.

Bastion must’ve sensed that things were about to go downhill. “Jaden has been a big help. I don’t think I would’ve passed your last exam without him.”

That was sweet, really, but Jaden had just graded a practice test, which didn’t involve anything but looking at the nicely circled x = whatever after an endless parade of calculus and checking them against an answer key. It’s not like he could help Bastion if he got in a real pickle, which is why he often saw his boyfriend dialing Alexis’ number at ass o’clock at night, standing in front of the wall where he’d attempted a problem with a worn-down pencil and tension in his shoulders.

“Oh, nonsense. You and Alexis are my best students. I think the two of you were born to do this.”

That was less sweet. The part about him helping Bastion being nonsense, that is. Bastion and Alexis were the best because they were Bastion and Alexis, so he could agree with that. Jaden shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling very defensive because he may not have been a braniac but he did try to help in whatever capacity he could. Fuck this stuffy ass gala.

He felt fingers nudging at him, and he looked over to see Alexis reaching behind Bastion and prodding his side, smiling at him. She looked exquisite in that dress, the gold matching her eyes and making her look like the absolute queen she was. Jaden overcame his extreme annoyance at Dr. Asswipe—it really was unfortunate the guy had been kinda dickish because Bas talked about him like the guy invented the sun—to smile at her. Damn the two of them for standing so close together he couldn’t squeeze in.

Honestly, that’s probably how everyone felt when he and Syrus were together, but that was different. Jaden and Syrus were the awesomest at parties and if Syrus were here instead of watching Alexis’ boyfriends duke it out on prime time television they could play a drinking game at least. Not like Bastion wouldn’t play drinking games with him, but since he was one of the guests of honor its not like he could get totally shitfaced. That was another reason this party sucked. Alexis and Bastion should be messes right now, needing to be scraped off the floor because it was their party and they deserved to celebrate like he did after winning a duel.

The conversation had blessedly switched away from Jaden and back to stars or whatever the “post AGB phase” was. It probably wasn’t too late to fake a stomachache, he thought as he sipped more of the prosecco, looking aimlessly into the crowd of people, half-listening to Bastion’s voice as he talked about shell burning (yet another great name for a mixtape), but Syrus’ text about being supportive echoed in his head. He could stick it out for Bastion.

It was hard, though, to listen to all these big words and not know anything about what was going on. If it were just the two of them, Jaden would interrupt and ask his boyfriend to explain something in very small words so he could at least sorta understand enough to be engaged, but they weren’t at home or in the car or even at Starbucks. Maybe he should’ve just stayed at the table and texted Syrus or tried to livestream Zane and Aster’s duel. The only good thing that had come out of leaving his seat was that Bastion’s arm was around him, keeping their sides pressed together, and that Bastion was clearly very excited about whatever they were talking about and he sounded so happy.

Taking another sip of wine, Jaden glanced up at his boyfriend, how he was smiling while saying huge-ass words that meant nothing to Jaden, who couldn’t spell ‘necessary’ or ‘license’ without googling it first. This was his element, this academic wasteland, devoid of personality and individualism, the only thing here facts and figures and research that took countless hours. The blazer felt itchy, restrictive, weighing heavily on his shoulders and making it hard to breathe. Jaden had never been in this part of Bastion’s world before. Usually the extent was watching him and several other students gathered around the coffee table or sequestered in the office, studying together or shooting the shit, and none of them had been this type of boring, flat, lifeless, damn near oppressive type of academic.

“Jaden.”

Zweinstein was speaking to him again, and Jaden halted his thoughts about how he was itchy and hot and overall uncomfortable to focus.

“Yeah?” He tried not to think of how he sounded raspy and lowkey kinda pathetic.

“Bastion says you were recently in Zurich.”

That wasn’t really recent, but yeah. “I had a tournament there a couple months ago. Nice place, but super cold.”

“I was just telling Bastion that we have several job openings in Zurich with one of our sister universities,” Zweinstein continued, still looking at Jaden over his glasses and he could’ve sworn the man was speaking slower, like he was unsure Jaden could understand him. The itchy, tight feeling intensified, and Jaden gripped onto the wine glass and tried to think of the way Chazz pitched a fit on television when Jaden had dropped his life points to zero last week. “I think it would be a good fit once he completes the program.”

A job? Overseas? There would be worse things, Jaden supposed. He wasn’t about to have a conversation about important life decisions right here, though. “That’s cool.”

“That’s a word for it.” Zweinstein drawled.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll probably end up staying around here.” Thankfully Bastion was there to speak again because Jaden was about ten seconds from smashing his glass in his turtle-looking face.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Zweinstein looked from Jaden to Bastion. “Though it is possible to be a duelist anywhere in the world. I hope you don’t let your partner’s career dictate yours.”

Jaden was hot, burning hot. The air was so thick it hurt to breathe, fingers twitching around the glass, and not even the feeling of Bastion’s hand squeezing his shoulder could calm the burning rage within him. Who the fuck was this man to stand here and insinuate that Jaden was—was holding Bastion back? Bastion had never said anything of the sort, not even implied it. Yeah, Jaden was loud and largely inappropriate and not book-smart and Bastion was proper and restrained and did Sudoku for fun but he would never, ever do anything knowing it would limit his boyfriend in his academic or career pursuits.

Coming over here was a mistake.

“’scuse me,” Jaden ducked out from under Bastion’s arm, needing to get away before he said something that would get him thrown out of this stupid-ass gala. His hip knocked into a table, jostling the silverware and startling the people sitting down, walking so fast the mostly-full glass was sloshing onto his sleeve, overcome with a burning need to get away from this gathering of pretentious fucks.

He knocked into more tables, tipping a chair over on its side as he made his exit. The door to the outside was his goal, as the night air would surely offer some sort of respite. Vaguely, he heard his name being called, but the blood was pounding in his ears and he couldn’t decipher who had called for him. It didn’t matter, as not even Bastion could make him go back to that horseshit conversation where he was being insulted for merely existing. What the fuck had he done to Zweinstein?

Pushing the ballroom door open with his shoulder and sloshing more wine onto the blazer, Jaden stepped into the hallway, hanging a right and heading for the exit doors where he could cool off and preferably stay outside until this nonsense was over. There were a couple of staff members standing by the door, and they opened it for him with a smile that he didn’t have it in him to return, finally stepping out and feeling like he was able to breathe once again.

It was easier to breathe but he was still hot and itchy. Sitting down on the top step, Jaden set down his glass and tore off the wine-soaked blazer, a passing thought of how it was his boyfriend’s and he should probably be more careful with it was silenced by angry thoughts of how he should summon Flame Wingman to burn this whole dumbass building down. Too bad he didn’t have his duel disk. That would’ve been satisfying. As long as Bastion and Alexis got out first.

Resting his head in his hands, acutely aware he looked like Cinderella, sitting here on the top of the steps after making a speedy exit from a ballroom, he heard Zweinstein’s words over and over again, taunting him. Was that it? Was the perception of their relationship that Jaden was somehow stunting Bastion’s professional and academic prospects?

Probably, another voice spoke up. They’d always been kinda an odd couple, proof that the old adage of ‘opposites attract’ wasn’t just a cliché. Jaden remembered when they’d first gotten together back in undergrad of how, while the squad had seen it coming for months and was totally cool with it, the other students at Duel Academy did make a few passing comments about how Bastion was ‘too good’ for him. It hadn’t bothered him back then because everything was shiny and new and he was totally gonna be a kickass pro duelist trophy boyfriend and Bastion was gonna name a star after him (something Bastion had actually said in a post-sex cuddle sesh, which had made Jaden feel enough love for the man to explode) and they were gonna prove everyone wrong. But now, feeling the air dance across his burning cheeks, staring down at the concrete steps, thinking about how the entire night he’d felt out of place, he entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was some merit to what Zweinstein had said. Bastion would probably do better with someone that could keep up with him in the braincell department, someone he could talk about his passions with that didn’t involve multiple interruptions to define terms.

Shit, this was stupid. Jaden looked up at the sky, thinking about how he sounded like a dumb teenager to himself but unable to shake the feeling that maybe this gala had revealed something crucial, something he’d never considered before. The wine he’d spilled on himself was starting to dry, making his skin feel sticky and tight, heightening the feeling of general discomfort that had settled into his skin and overtaken him from the second he’d stepped in the ballroom, raised to a fever pitch by that stupid doctor. Going back inside felt impossible though. Better to just sit out here and tamp down on these feelings, forget about this entirely. The steps were uncomfortable and there were still a few stragglers coming in, their eyes landing on him briefly before continuing their way up the stairs. It’d be better to wait in the car but Bastion had the keys and was almost pathological about locking doors, meaning he’d have to go back inside to get them. That wasn’t gonna happen unless Jaden got one free punch aimed at Zweinstein.

He’d sit out here, then. That’d be fine. He had most of his phone battery left and a backlog of updates from Syrus; plus if all else failed he could call Jesse to pass the time. Bastion and Alexis could enjoy the gala in their honor and Jaden wouldn’t get arrested for assault. It would be fine, he reassured himself, though he still heard the echoes of doubts and insecurities and the visions of Bastion galivanting around with another obscenely smart person that wouldn’t feel out of place in his world, would compliment him better. The Inner Bastion voice that had discouraged him from dancing on the table was now spouting out how it was illogical to feel these things when Bastion had never come close to implying that Jaden wasn’t enough for him, and he did his damnedest to listen to it. That proved to be difficult, the persistent itch under his skin and the heat in his face not caring that his Inner Bastion was right. Digging in the front pocket for his phone, he felt his fingers shaking, covered in a cold sweat, unable to grasp the device.

Fucking fine, then. He could just sit here. He could just chill out. He was the ultimate at chilling, had taught Bastion how to turn that brain off and enjoy himself.

“Jaden?”

Was that his Inner Bastion trying to get him to calm himself down and stop worrying about nothing? It sounded louder, more insistent now, like the real Bastion sounded when Jaden was about to down seven Coke floats because Syrus got through six before he puked.

“Jaden?”

That definitely wasn’t in his head. Twisting around, Jaden looked up to see Bastion coming out of the building, walking toward him, blazer open and swishing with his steps, tie off-kilter. What the hell was Bastion doing out here? He should be inside.

“What?” Bastion was standing in on the steps by him now, looking confused and worried. Shit, he must’ve said that out loud. “I’m not going to stand inside while you’re out here, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dude, this is your party.” Jaden felt a new wave of guilt for storming out and disrupting his boyfriend’s moment in the sun, especially after Bastion had spent an inordinate amount of time posing for pictures with Jaden after he won a duel or taken a red-eye flight to get back to the university in time for classes after joining him at a tournament. “Seriously, Bas. Get back in there.”

“Jaden,” Bastion was sitting down next to him, using that serious voice that Jaden recognized as the one meaning he wasn’t going to entertain an argument.

Jaden didn’t have anything to say that wasn’t going to be either argumentative or let these anxious, unfounded thoughts spill out, so he just huffed and stared straight ahead.

There was silence for a moment. Usually their silences weren’t uncomfortable as they’d been together far too long to feel the need to fill every moment with inorganic conversation. This was an uncomfortable silence and Jaden could feel Bastion looking at him, practically feel the way he was turning words over in his mind, wanting to broach the subject of that unfortunate encounter with his faculty adviser. Jaden didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it or not, really. If he made Bastion feel like he couldn’t interact with the person helping him complete his doctorate then he really would be holding him back just like Zweinstein said; if he didn’t say anything then he’d either have to abstain from coming to these uptight academic gatherings, maybe miss out on more important accomplishments, in order to not be subjected to this condescending bullshit.

This situation sucked.

“Jaden,” Bastion had apparently finished deciding how to begin.

“Yeah?”

“You won’t have to worry about Dr. Zweinstein saying anything else to you.”

“What?” Jaden looked over to him, feeling more guilt, more anxiety twisting his insides. “What’d you say to him? Bas, you better not have—”

“I told him to shove it.” Bastion interrupted, a slight smile breaking his face, eyes shining with amusement. “Not in as many words, but you know.”

“You told the guy who holds your future by the short and curlies to shove it?”

“Jaden, sweetheart,” Bastion’s arm wound around his shoulders, pulling him to his side. Jaden was slightly off-guard, feeling new heat rise to his cheeks at the pet name. His boyfriend didn’t use them often, didn’t really use nicknames either, referring to Alexis by her full name when everyone else said ‘Lex’, almost never calling him ‘Jay.’ Leaning his head against Bastion’s shoulder, feeling the fabric of his blazer against his cheek, he listened as Bastion continued. “I think you’ve overestimated the influence he has on me. I’m not so starstruck that I’m going to let him speak to you like that.”

That was probably the nicest, most political way for Bastion to say that he was overreacting. Maybe if Jaden had stayed a moment longer, hadn’t made a scene, he would’ve been able to see Bastion clap back. That would’ve been infinitely better than knocking over a chair and spilling wine everywhere.

“Do people,” Jaden tried to keep his voice steady, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning more heavily on Bastion’s side. “Do people say stuff like that a lot?”

“No,” Bastion’s cheek leaned on his head, breath moving his bangs as he sighed. “A few people have. They learn not to.”

“Thanks for defending my honor,” Jaden wanted to make it sound like a joke, lighten the mood and lift the weight that was settling inside him.

“I don’t need nor appreciate input on where I’ve chosen to lay my affections.”

“Maybe they’re right, you know.” Jaden couldn’t stop it from tumbling out, wincing a second later. That was pathetic. He sounded like the protagonist in that soap opera he’d binged last week at Syrus’ insistence, the two of them laid out on the couch, definitely not sober, laughing at how stupid and dramatic the script was. Now he was doing the same shit he’d mocked.

“No, they most definitely are not.”

The conviction in that statement jump-started his heart, making him lift up his head, staring into Bastion’s eyes. Protests were on the tip of his tongue, even as his Inner Bastion was telling him to listen to the Outer Bastion and not the flurry of irrational thoughts clouding his mind. They died as Bastion pulled him closer, reaching out to lay his hand over one of Jaden’s.

“I wanted you to come with me tonight. Not just because you’re my partner but because you’re my inspiration.” Bastion squeezed his hand and Jaden grabbed onto him, probably too tightly but his heart was pounding and his boyfriend’s hands were bigger and really warm and he needed the feeling of their palms pressed together to calm himself. “You’ve been so supportive of me, helped me even when you don’t understand, tolerated me staying up all night grading papers, and never complained about me repainting parts of the office when I run out of room to write on the walls. I wanted you to be here tonight. Dr. Zweinstein can take his opinions elsewhere.”

They were silent, just looking at each other, and Jaden felt like he should say something, but he couldn’t. His mind was blank, which was unfortunate because his heart was full and he wanted to thank Bastion for coming out here, for defending him, for being so perfect and wonderful, for being so loving. The anxieties and thoughts of not being enough, the image of Zweinstein staring at him over his glasses, those horrid fantasies of Bastion being with some nameless, faceless person in a lab coat—they all dissipated. They weren’t buried, just gone, like they’d never occupied his thoughts. His Inner Bastion was very smugly telling him that Jaden should’ve listened to him in the first place.

“How’d I get so lucky?” Jaden laughed, a real laugh, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend, pressing their lips together, feeling Bastion’s hand tighten around his own. Lingering for just a moment longer, he pulled back, resting their foreheads together, feeling lighter and happier and overwhelmingly content.

“I’m the lucky one.” Bastion smiled, tightening his hold on Jaden’s shoulders. “Will you come back inside with me?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jaden refrained from adding that if Zweinstein even looked at him the wrong way he’d throw a wine glass at him.

“Oh, here.” Bastion’s hold on him was gone and he was shrugging out of his blazer. “Take this.”

“Sorry,” Jaden looked down at the still-wet sleeves of his own blazer. “I’ll do laundry when we get home.”

“It’s quite alright. Please don’t do laundry. The last time you turned all of my white shirts gray.”

“Hey, come on,” Jaden stuck his tongue out, heard Bastion laughing at him. “I looked cute in that apron, though.”

“I’m not sure stapling hand towels together and tying them around your waist counts as an apron.”

“You aren’t denying that I looked cute.”

“No, I’m not.” Bastion helped Jaden out of his blazer, draping his own over Jaden’s shoulders.

There was something heavy in the front pocket of Bastion’s blazer, too big to be a phone, not jingly enough to be keys. “Babe?”

“Mmm?”

“What’s in here?”

“A flask.”

Bastion brought a flask? “I’m not complaining, babe, but, uh—why?”

“Well,” Bastion pushed up his sleeve to look at his watch, the one Jaden had gotten him for his birthday, the face decorated with little stars that glowed in the dark. “Alexis is giving a speech in about five minutes. Thought you might like to play a drinking game.”

“I’ve never been more in love with you than at this moment.” Jaden shot up, extending a hand to his boyfriend, who was laughing and looking perfect with that boring white shirt and eyes reflecting the starlight. “Let’s go back inside.”

[killingkueen]

something old, something new

A RCIJ fic for @thatravenclawbitch

Prompt: lovers who can’t move on

Summary: she returned as a favor to Jefferson, that was all. she hadn’t meant to open old wounds

Rating: idk. M-ish? There’s much talk of detailed sexy times, but not much happening otherwise.

It started with milk.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jefferson.”

“Don’t want—” he sputtered. “Belle, you go out for a quick grocery run and you return hours later, sans any actual groceries, might I add—”

Her purse thumped loudly as she dropped it to the table, knocking the mail to the floor. She opted to ignore it.

“Leave it alone.” She had barely managed to come away with her dignity, and he was concerned about groceries.

“—with more spots on your neck than a leopard, hair a mess—”

While she kept herself from tugging on her collar, Belle couldn’t help but run another hand through said hair, conscious of the fact that it was very much no longer in the neat style it was when she had left. Her wrists hurt too, from where they’d been squeezed, and she was pretty sure there was a mark on her back from how hard she’d hit the edge of the sink.

“Jeff, please.”

Milk, of all fucking things.

“Darling, you have been ravaged and I want the details. Did it happen in the parking lot? Did some Fabio sweep you off your feet so suddenly you just had to have him in your car? Or—” he lowered his voice, eyes gleaming. “Was shopping all a ruse and you snuck out to meet with a Tindr date?”

Belle rolled her eyes so hard she almost felt them rattle (though she could admit that she had missed his dramatic tendencies). “Are you so shocked?”

“Hardly. I’m jealous. You’re here to help me get laid.”

Her lip twitched, then bloomed into a full smile despite herself. “As if you need my help.”

“I do just exude sex appeal, don’t I?” He shot her his best smoulder, pouting his lips, his hands up to frame him face.

“And have a jawline that could cut glass.” Belle leaned back against the counter, relieved he was letting her change the subject. “Chicks dig that, you know.”

“I admit I was hoping for the more masculine crowd, but I’ll be sure to show off my good side all the same.”

He wandered over to the (empty) fridge, pulling down the take-out menus that were pinned to it. “Speaking of, the beautiful bride-to-be wants me there extra early for the rehearsal. You okay coming with me? She could use the manpower.”

Belle absently ran her fingers over her neck, ignoring the pleasant soreness. “That’s fine, I guess. Is there a lot left to do, then?”

“I’m the maid of honor, Blue Belle. My sacred duties are never complete.” He flashed another smile at her before shuffling the menus about in his hands. “But, her future father-in-law is apparently a bit much, so I think she just wants someone on her side to run interference in case he gets nosy.”

“What, too overbearing? Judgmental?”

“More ‘surly asshole.’” He eyed the marks along her neck, only getting deeper in color. “Actually, you might want to do something about those. Then again, if you wear that nice green dress, you know, the one with the low scoop neck? He might be so scandalized he’ll forget about Emma completely.”

“I'm not some sacrificial lamb,” Belle laughed, tugging again at her collar.

“Anything for the cause, darling. Now then,” he held the menus out like a spread deck of cards. “Do you want Chinese, Korean, or pizza?”

Shifting on her feet, she looked at the options without much enthusiasm. It was after all the same spread they had been enjoying all week, since Belle arrived; lunch, dinner, and leftovers for breakfast if they could stomach it.

“And to think I promised you an actual home-cooked meal tonight.”

“You’re the one who decided getting your rocks off was more important than groceries. Be grateful I’m letting you choose at all.”

She pursed her lips. She did feel a little bad about that, actually.

She had been in the dairy isle. Her phone in one hand, typing out a message to August about her latest article, the other hand pulling out a half gallon of milk. She had glanced down to check the expiration date, had looked to her phone when it tried to autocorrect ‘blunder,’ the door to the fridge closed with a cool gush of air, and when she looked up, there, behind her, reflected in the glass—

“If you feel that strongly about it, how about you decide then?”

“Belle?”

She turned away, resisting the urge to sweep her purse to the floor (it’d be a mess to clean up, and not the satisfying kind). She reached for the cupboard nearest her, hoping for a glass. No luck; only plates awaited her.

“Try the one to the left,” Jeff said, realizing her intention.

She heard the faint swish of paper as he fiddled with the menus.

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it,” he said as she filled a glass from the faucet. “But bottling things up has never worked for you.”

Belle took a sip of water. She would kill for a window she could look through, right now. A spice rack, even. Anything but the sad, peeling yellow wallpaper of Jefferson’s apartment.  

“I looked up, and there he was,” she said finally. “He…had cut his hair.”

“You knew him, then?”

“I did, yeah.” Her gaze shift from the sad wallpaper to the sink; clean, shining. A true contradiction to Jefferson’s sporadic, messy nature. “From before.”

He hummed behind her. She could practically feel his frown.

“He kept it long, you know? Used to, rather. I could see his ears. Never seen them before.” They were pointed, slightly curved inward, like a pixie’s, but that wasn’t what had stood out to her, when his face had appeared over her shoulder. His eyes had been dark; two storm clouds ready to split, or swallow her whole. The sharp angles of his face were nearly jagged in the glass, especially without the soft frame of his hair. His face was pale, his lips pinched at the corners. She wanted to run her fingers along the line of his brow, but he looked too sharp to touch, like if she tried, she’d bleed.

“And that got you hot and bothered?”

Belle rolled her eyes at the wall, not giving that the benefit of a response. “I dropped the milk.”

“The milk?”

“He was just suddenly there, and he surprised me, and I dropped the milk, okay?” She turned to face Jefferson, who had his hands up in a placating gesture. She sighed. Lowered her voice. “At least it was only a half gallon.”

“And?”

“The jug broke, and it was all over the aisle, and I had milk running down my leg, and he was just...looking at me.” His suit was unfamiliar, his shirt a light purple she hadn’t seen him wear before. He was altogether brand new and just the same as he’d been the last day she saw him; he even still had a pocket square. A fucking pocket square, placed expertly in his meticulous three piece suit, that he was wearing in early summer, in Boston.

Of course she’d embarrass herself. Of course not a drop of milk landed on him; it wouldn't dare.

“I left the basket right there in the aisle. Ran to the bathroom.” She needed to be somewhere else, where he wasn’t looking at her. Where he wouldn’t open his mouth and—

“The bathroom?”

“He, uhm, followed, which I wasn’t expecting. There was a knock, and there he was, again, with my purse and cell phone, and…”

“How courteous.”

“I pulled him in, locked the door, and before I knew it, my back was against the sink, my skirt was hiked up to my waist, and my panties were...” she shrugged. “Elsewhere.”

Jefferson gave her a searching look, from the top of her head to the love bites on her neck, to the pale expanse of her legs. She shifted uncomfortably; Jeff was perceptive at the worst of times.

“He kept them, didn’t he? Your panties.”

“He did, the bastard. I liked that pair.”

Jefferson snorted. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” He dropped the menus on the counter, his movement careless. “You got off, at least?” he asked.

Belle huffed, annoyed at his casual tone.

“Look, Belle, if you’re going to fuck your ex-boyfriend in a grocery store bathroom, you might as well get off.”

“Yes, God. He got me off.”

Admitting that much was a mistake. His eyebrow waggled. “Oh, he did, did he?”

“That’s all you’re getting out of me, you pervert. I’ve said quite enough already.” Belle took another sip of water. She paused, eyes narrowing. “I never said he was my ex.”

“Didn’t you?”Jeff knelt down to pick up the mail she had spilled, setting it back on the table without looking at it. “You can pick the take-out, but I��ll choose what we watch, yeah?”

That meant she was at the mercy of VH1. She looked to the menus abandoned on the counter, sore and empty, and wondered how much more of America’s Next Top Model she could take.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Jeff’s arms go around her shoulders, crushing her to him, her arms pressed to his chest, water spilling between them. He ignored how it soaked into his shirt.

“Boston is a big place, honey bird,” he said. “You’re not here much longer—chances are you won’t see him again.”

She sighed, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and wild flowers (he smelled nothing like cedar. Nothing like woodsmoke and whiskey).

“Yeah,” she said, her voice tight and small. “You’re probably right.”

Belle cursed under her breath as she turned into the parking lot of Behind the Glass Sports Bar and Grill, the venue of the wedding. She pulled into the first empty space she could find, between a blue minivan and a yellow bug. After a quick scan, she found Jefferson’s car near the back of the lot, and gave a sigh of relief. She might be late, but at least she was in the right place.

Stupid dreams, keeping her awake last night. Stupid Jefferson, letting her sleep in and not waking her on time. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

At least her dress made it look like she put effort into her appearance, and that she had the foresight last night to rub vinegar against the bites on her neck. They had faded to a light enough blemish that she was able to conceal them with her make up before she had made a mad dash from the apartment.

Belle looked at her face critically in the visor mirror. Digging through her purse, she pulled out her soft pink lipstick, putting on a quick coat before stepping out of her car. There. She was as ready as she’d ever be. She didn’t have mascara, and only her concealer, but a good shade of lipstick worked wonders in a pinch.

When she stepped through the door to the bar, she was met with a large room; sports decal and neon signs lining the walls, large TVs set up high so a screen or three could be viewed from any vantage point. Despite it being nearly noon, the place was empty. Well. Nearly.

“Belle!” Jeff said extravagantly. “Welcome to our base camp!” He was beside her almost instantly, as if he were waiting by the door like a puppy. “So glad to see you made it.”

His hands gripped her shoulders, and he peered into her face critically, his eyes making a path down to her neck.

“Feeling better?”

“I got a lot of sleep. I needed it, apparently.”

Jefferson nodded, his arm sliding around her waist as he turned, his hand pressing lightly at the small of her back so he could lead her into the building.

“It’s important to feel refreshed. This is your vacation, mind, no matter how you might be put to work. Now,” he said, pushing open a door that was next to what Belle presumed to be the kitchen. “How about I introduce you officially to the bride and groom.”

The room Belle had been led to was private, a place set aside for large parties away from the other guests. Most of the tables were pushed against the far wall, the chairs stacked next to them. At the only table in the center was a blonde woman, arms crossed and leaning back in her seat. She had turned to watch them when they entered. The man to her right was still bent over whatever it was they had spread out before them on the table.

“You must be Belle,” the woman said, standing.

“And you’re Emma.” Belle smiled warmly, holding out her hand. “Jefferson has told me so much about you.”

Emma grunted. “I can only imagine. I assure you he’s told me far too much about you.”

The words were standoffish, but the tone was warm, even despite the not quite smile on her face. Belle couldn’t help a laugh. “Yes, he does have far more enthusiasm then sense, doesn’t he?” she said, voice bright.

“You guys are both so mean to me. It’s a wonder I put up with it at all.” Jeff said.

By now the groom had stood also.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Belle. It’s nice to meet you, finally.”

The groom was tall, with slightly curly hair and a good amount of stubble. His eyes crinkled, friendly and open when he smiled at her, his hand large and warm as they shook.

“I’m Neal. And please don’t worry about it. I understand how Jefferson can keep you up at night.”

He grunted as Emma jammed her elbow into his side.

“Don’t be gross,” she said.

“Not what I meant,” he laughed, dodging another jab. He kissed her cheek, before he slid back out of her reach.

“No, I know what you mean. He doesn’t turn off,” Belle said with a pointed look in his direction.

“I let you sleep in, didn’t I?”

“I was told I’d be put to work,” Belle said, watching as Neal sat back down. “I’m good at organizing, if you need it.” She looked back at the tables and chairs that were pushed against the wall. “How many are you expecting?”

“There’s you and me,” Jefferson said. “We make up the wedding party on Emma’s side. The best man is Neal’s best friend from college.”

“Mulan’s great,” Neal said, “Real life of the party.”

Emma snorted. “Her girlfriend somehow convinced us to let her be the flower girl and ring-bearer.”

“Apparently it was her dream as a kid to be a flower girl, but she grew up with a distinct lack of weddings, so she never got the chance.” Neal said. “So out of the goodness of our hearts, we’re letting her live her dream.”

“And to top it off,” Jefferson said, “Philip will be officiating.”

“And Phillip is…?” Belle asked.

“Their boyfriend,” Emma said, voice flat.

She looked to the blonde, wondering if it was a joke. From the look on her face, it was not. Belle nodded. “This wedding is going to be amazing.”

“They’ll be here tomorrow, for the actual ceremony,” Neal said.

It was a little odd that three key players in the wedding wouldn’t be attending the researshal, but Belle didn’t comment. She was getting the feeling they were going for a small affair; as long as everyone knew their lines, she was sure it would be fine. “How many other guests?” she asked, thinking of how to set up the tables and chairs.

“My father will also be here,” Neal said. “He’s the reason we don’t just go the courthouse, honestly.” Neal scratched the back of his head, frowning. “Lot less trouble if we do it that way, but he was insistent.”

Belle turned back to the couple when no one continued.

“Wait, so, your father, your party of three, me and Jeff,” Belle listed. “That’s all? For this entire place?”

“We wouldn’t let him pay for the honeymoon, so he’s paying for the party,” Emma said. She crossed her arms, leaning back against the table. “He demanded a venue, so I gave him one. Sue me.”

“If it seems like this has all been put together very quickly and last minute, it’s because it was,” Neal said, smiling.

“Hardly something to be proud of,” a new voice interjected. A very familiar voice, that was accompanied with the very familiar tap of a gold-handled cane. “If you’d both just give me a little more time, I could get a wonderful ceremony set up for you.”

Once, when Belle was a kid, her babysitter had taken her to a park. Near the edge had been a tire swing, four holes drilled into the flat side of the rubber and hoisted up with glinting metal chains, hung about three feet from the ground. She had begged and pleaded to be allowed a turn, and her babysitter had finally given in.

An older boy had offered to swing it for her. When the kid pulled on one of the chains she spun around and around, the world becoming blurry and fluid.

“Again! Again!” she yelled when she slowed.

The boy pulled harder. Belle, somehow, let go.

She never forgot the feeling of being suddenly airborne, of landing hard on her back, the wind whooshing from her chest.

Hearing the tap of a cane, the soft brogue of his voice, she felt just as small and vulnerable as she had been as a child, stunned and wheezing, staring up into the sky not knowing what had happened.

Jefferson raised his eyebrow at what had to be the shock on her face. He stepped closer, arm once again winding around her waist.

Belle tried to breathe, to calm her fluttering heartbeat.

“Hey, Pops,” Neal said, standing again. He crossed the room and clasped his father on the shoulder. “Wed don’t want a grand affair. What we have now is more than perfect,” he said with the air of someone who’s repeated the line many times before. “We were just about to make a game plan for the day. Have you met Emma’s friends yet?”

His brown eyes (soft when looking at his son, sweet like molasses) flickered to Jefferson and Belle, who stood like pillars. She watched his eyes harden, the sweetness evaporating right before her eyes.

He looked to her, then to Jeff, beside her.

With a final press of his hand on her back, Jeff stepped forward, bowing grandly. “Jefferson Louis Masters, at your service. And my lovely date, Miss Belle Marie French.”

She fought the urge to curtesy. “My middle name isn’t Marie, you loon.”

“No?” Jeff straightened. “It should be.” He turned back to his audience, lip twitching when he was met with a steely glare.

“Miss French, how lovely to see you again.” The words sounded as if they were forced past his tongue, grimacing as if each were a tooth pulled.

“Mr. Gold,” she said quietly. “It’s been too long.”

“Has it?” His hand gripped the handle of his cane, his knuckles turning white.

His hand had been at her throat, yesterday; not squeezing, not applying any pressure, just holding. His other, on her hip, pressing her into the sink as he moved inside her.

She had traced the bruise he left last night, had remembered the delightful feel of it forming against the material of her skirt.

“I didn’t know you had a son,” Belle said. Her hand, unseen by the others in the room, clenched into the material of Jefferson’s waistcoat at his back.

Gold’s tongue flickered, wetting his lips. “And why would you?”

He hadn’t said anything, when his body was pressed to hers. She’d heard only his stuttered breath on her face, on her neck, his tongue tracing her collarbone. He gasped when he came inside her, the sound pulled from him.

Jefferson squeezed her shoulder. She tore her face away from Gold in time to see Jeff look away from her. She watched as his eyes narrowed, sizing Gold up. “You have very cute ears,” he said before Belle could think of anything to say.

Gold pursed his lips, unamused.

Belle wanted to sink into the floor. “Jeff,” she groaned. Far too perceptive.

“Right,” Neal said loudly. She had almost forgotten there were other people in the room. “Game plan. Flowers and cake.” Neal looked from Belle to his dad, then to Emma. She shrugged, as clueless as he was.

“We thought everyone would like to get on with their Saturdays, so we decided to divide and conquer,” Neal continued. “Emma can pick out her bouquet and some arrangements for the room, and me and Papa will pick out a cake. Belle, I thought maybe you could come with me and my old m—”

“My expertise is in flowers, actually. Jeff, you can vouch for that,” she said, quickly. “How about I go with Emma, instead? Besides, it’ll be fun, just us girls.”

“What—” Jeff said. “Wait a—”

“I know how much you love sweets,” she said, voice too loud, too cheerful. She was careful to keep her eyes on Jefferson, which was hard to do considering the betrayal that was present in his face.

Emma and Neal shared a look.

“Sounds good to me,” Emma said, pulling on a red leather jacket. “We’ll see you gents later, yeah?”

“Belle,” Jeff said, but she was already headed out the door.

“Save your receipts, Miss Swan,” she heard, but she did not look back.

The door closed behind her as she stepped back into the empty bar. It looked large and open with the sunlight streaming through the windows, when it was empty of patrons. It was friendly, though, and very warm. It wasn’t hard to imagine it full of people, there to watch the big game and drink with friends.

“You wanna drive?” Emma asked from behind her, drawing Belle away from the room.

“Ah, yes, that would be fine. You can tell me where we’re going.”

They stepped out into the sunshine together, Belle unlocking her car.

“You tell me. You’re the flower expert.”

“Oh,” Belle laughed, the sound a little forced. She quickly picked up her loose books and magazines from the passenger side and placed them in the seat behind her. “That was—I meant—”

Belle took a deep breath. She clutched the steering wheel like a lifeline. “I was referring to my father, mostly. He owned a flower shop, and I spent some time there when I was a kid. A lot of time, actually. So.”

Emma grunted. She shifted in her seat so she could reach her phone in her back pocket. “So you don’t know any good places around here.”

“Exactly. You navigate.” Belle started her car, looking behind her to pull out. “Look up the best five flower shops; we can look around, see what’s available. Since you need everything by tomorrow, we might have to go to several places.” Belle could faintly remember the days of going to work with her father. They got a lot of walk-ins, but most wedding bouquets were special orders, and she wasn’t sure what would be available so last minute.

“We’re not doing anything fancy,” Emma said, rolling her eyes, and typing something into her phone. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Right. Emma had probably been strong-armed into having a bouquet in the first place—though the thought of anyone trying to force Emma to do anything was laughable. Belle wondered if she had bothered to get a wedding dress.

Belle drove straight for another block before Emma said, “Hey, there’s a place close. Take a left up here.”

She flipped her blinker down, pulling into the turning lane.

“So,” Emma extended the word on her exhale. “You know Gold, huh?”

We were...ah…” Belle counted cars as they passed, waiting for a break so she could go. “Briefly acquainted, yes.”

Emma nodded slowly, her face carefully neutral.

“How long is ‘briefly’?”

“About 15 months,” Belle said after a long pause. She swallowed, throat tight.

“You owe him money or something? Take a right after the  next light.”

Belle gave Emma a startled look.

She shrugged. “I keep telling Neal that Gold is a borderline loan shark. It’s going to come back to bite him one of these days.”

“N-no. I don’t owe him money.”

Emma hummed. “Grab the next parking space you find. We can walk from here.”

It was another block before Belle was able to pull to the side of the street and park. They both got out of the car, Belle locking it behind them. She grabbed for her wallet so she could pay for the meter, but Emma was faster, already feeding coins into its hungry mouth.

Emma turned to her, sighed. She put her hands into her jacket pockets. “I don’t know what all Jeff has told you about the wedding, but if you don’t want to be here, you can absolutely bail.”

There was a small part of Belle (and she wouldn’t admit to herself just how large it really was) that wanted to take Emma up on her offer. She could climb back into her car and leave, just as she had before.

She was still that little girl, hanging onto the chain links of a tire swing, watching the world blur past her, pretending she wasn’t a part of it.

Belle had hit the ground once, and she’d gotten back up. Surely she could do it now.

“I get it,” Emma said. “Gold can be a bit much.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Emma. But, look on the bright side,” she said, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. “You have the perfect distraction. Gold will spend all his time this weekend hating me that he’ll forget about you completely.”

Emma snorted. “He’ll remember me soon enough.” Her eyes searched Belle’s face, but looking for what, Belle couldn’t say.

She shrugged, eyes sliding away. “Come on then.”

“It was excruciating.”

“It can’t have been that bad,” Belle lied, pretending to peruse Jeff’s bookshelves.

Jefferson glared at her. She could feel the sting of it at the back of her head. “Belle.” He waited until she turned to look at him. “I just spent three hours with a man who was radiating pure fury and hatred, the pure definition and embodiment of a lover scorned.”

“Jeff—”

“Of a lover scorned, Belle.” He snapped. “He thinks you’re my girlfriend.”

That made her pause. It wasn’t an unnatural conclusion to come to, really. Not with how affectionate her and Jefferson were, and wasn’t that Jeff’s own fault? He had introduced her as his date.

“If that bothers you—”

“It’s not that it bothers me. You’re a catch, Belle, but that’s not the problem.”

“I don’t—”

“Three hours, Belle. Three hours with a man who thinks he had sex with my girlfriend in a supermarket bathroom, and that I don’t know about it.” He flung himself on the couch, massaging his temples.

“Yeah, that would be awkward.”

“Awkward,” he scoffed. “I went along with it, by the way, if I haven’t made that clear.”

Belle sat down next to him. He put his head on her shoulder.

“It seemed the reasonable thing to do, since. You know,” he sighed.

Since I’m too ashamed to be in the same room as him? Since I’m too much of a coward to face him?

“Thanks for taking that bullet, I guess.”

Jeff groaned.  “The thing is, Belle, the thing is—” He waved his hand in the air. “He looked for you. When we got back, cakes in hand—he insisted on three, for some reason, so chances are we’ll be stuck with leftovers—he looked for you. He thought he was being subtle, and I don’t know what he thought he was going to say. When he saw Emma was the only one at the bar, he just. Deflated. Didn’t look surprised, just disappointed. Bid us good day, and left, shoulders hunched like he was going out into a storm.”

Belle didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust her voice.

“Maybe I’m just projecting,” he said into the silence of the apartment. “I half expected you to be gone myself, when I returned ho—”

“Want to get irresponsibly drunk tonight?” Belle asked, before he could finish.

Jefferson sat up, his face so close to hers she could see the darker shade of blue around his irises. His gaze was intense, piercing.

Belle looked away. She had been examined enough for one day.

“Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

Belle was on her third glass of wine, leftover Chinese food left abandoned on the floor beside them. They had ended up on the floor, rather than on the couch or in the kitchen, but Belle couldn’t bring herself to care just then.

“The sex was always good, Jeff. right from the beginning, that man could do stuff to me that I didn’t even think was possible. No, I mean it,” she said when he snorted into his own wine glass; only his second, and he wa nursing it. “He knew exactly how to play me.”

She leaned back, her head resting on the couch cushion. “I trusted him completely. I’ve never been more content with a partner.  I mean it. I trusted him so much, if—if he had so much as hinted that he wanted anal, I would have said ‘absolutely, let’s do this. I’ll grab the lube and condoms’.”

Jeff laughed outright at that. The sound gave her a warm feeling in her stomach that the wine couldn’t reach. “Have you ever tried anal?” he asked.

“Once. It was easily the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been in my life. But he’d have made it good for me. It was always good, with him. Gold took such good care of me.”

He was shaking with suppressed laughter. She wasn’t sure what was so funny, but she didn’t mind.

“Best sex I ever had was with older men, too, now that I think about it,” he admitted. “Mostly.”

“Yeah. Mostly.” Belle took another sip of wine. “What?” she asked, seeing that Jeff was looking at her, his eyes half-lidded with a mischievous glint.

“Was it always good with Gold? Even the first time?”

“Yeah, of course,” she said quickly. Too quickly, she could see.

“Tell me,” he said.

Belle never needed much convincing when she drank wine.

“It took a month into having sex before I gave him a blow job,” she admitted. “He never asked me to. I almost thought maybe he just didn’t like them. Whenever I tried to—” she waved her hand at her lap— “go down, he’d pull me back up and I’d get distracted, you know? And, like, I never really cared that much. God knows blowjobs are overrated.”

Jeff snorted. “Says you.”

She elbowed him. “I asked him about it once. He was sitting at his work bench, explaining to me how this antique—fuck, was it a hearing aid?—in front of him worked, and I had a sudden thought of how nice it would be, if my head were in between his thighs.”

“God, you focus on the weirdest things. His ears. A hearing aid. Oh my god, that’s it, isn’t it? You have a secret—”

She elbowed him again, harder this time, wine sloshing dangerously in her glass. If Jeff wasn’t careful she was going to stain his carpet. “He spent plenty of time between mine, you know, and I just—I just wanted to reciprocate for once.”

“How much convincing did it take?”

“Well, I said, ‘Gold, I want to suck you off. Now. Can I?’ And he just looked at me, surprised. That was it, really. He offered to move to the cot, to make it more comfortable for me, but I wanted him on that bench. So I crawled under the table, and, uhm, took him out.”

Jeff watched her as she talked, a filthy smirk on his face. “I bet he loved that, hm? Was he just like velvet on your tongue, hmmm?”

She snorted, her wine going up her nose when she tried to take another drink. “God—Jefferson!”

“I don’t know why you’d be so scandalized by that. It’s not like you don’t know I’ve given blow jobs before.”

She was laughing, her hands nearly shaking too hard to keep her glass steady. “Why am I even telling you this?”

“No, no please continue. I want to hear what happened.”

She licked at her hand where her wine splashed, the salt of her skin mixing with the sweet twinge of black cherry.

“I forgot where I was.”

“You were giving that man the best head of his life.” He frowned. “No, wait. You’re telling a story about bad sex. Belle,” he gasped, as if realizing her deepest secret. “Are you bad at blowjobs?”

She wondered if throwing something at him would be more effective. “That’s not—God, let me finish.” She leaned against the couch, remembering that day. The feel of his on her tongue, indeed like velvet: soft and hard all at once. His hands clawed into the table because he was worried about pulling too hard on her hair.

She remembered especially looking up into his face, his eyes wild and pupils blown wide, staring at her with such a look of what could only be called rapture. He watched her every movement so carefully, as if it was the last time she was ever going to touch him like that. It felt good, to be the one to make him look like that.

She had just wanted him to feel good. Wanted. Loved.

“When he, uh, was close, I pulled off and asked if he wanted to come in my mouth.” She paused, frowning down at her glass.

“Did he give you the wrong answer?”

Belle snickered. “Nope.” Before Jeff could ask what she meant, she said, “He shot off, right then and there.”

“He came on your face,” Jefferson gasped.

“He did!” she squealed, laughing. “It was partly my fault. The way I was holding him. If I had aimed for, God I don’t know, his stomach it wouldn’t have been so bad, but nope.”

Jefferson was wheezing, laughing with such glee she almost couldn’t make out his next sentence. “I can just imagine the look on your face.”

“He was the one horrified. He was sure I was about to storm out and not come back. He couldn’t enjoy the orgasm he was so worried.”

“Like you’d leave with come on your face,” he snickered.

“Right.” Belle leaned back against the couch again. She stared up at the ceiling as their laughter died down.

“Belle,” Jeff said into the quiet. The refrigerator hummed from the kitchen. “What happened?”

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was Jeff’s voice. Maybe it was two years of silence, too heavy to carry any further.

“I just had to leave.”

“But why?” he insisted, sitting up. “You disappeared for months, with absolutely no word to anyone, and then when you finally get back in contact, you’re on the west coast? I thought maybe you had gone home to Australia, or fuck, been murdered or kidnapped into some cult, but no, you’re in fucking Oregon like some fucking hipster—” he cut himself off. When he spoke next, his voice was back to a low, even timber. “You were just gone, Belle.”

Her mouth was too dry to speak. She swirled what was left of the wine in her glass, watching the legs as they trailed down the sides like tears.

“Please. What happened?”

What did we do to drive you away?

“I don’t know,” she lied.

Jeff leaned down, sprawling on the floor. His arms knocked into the take-out containers, but he didn’t seem to care. Belle wasn’t sure where he had put his wine.

“Look, I can’t make you talk to me. I’m glad you’re here, Belle, but I don’t like the feeling of not knowing if you’re going to answer my phone calls, or if you’re still going to be here when I come home.”

Belle closed her eyes. It’s not that she didn’t want to talk, exactly; it was just that she wasn’t sure where to start. How did she open up those old wounds and face the disappointment she had caused?

“Disappointment?” Jeff asked, looking at her. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “That’s what you’re afraid of?”

When she left, she didn’t have to think about how much she had hurt him, them, everyone, or how much she had lost when she ran away when she did. So, yeah. Disappointment.

“I’m disappointed, Belle. You broke my heart, too, you know.” He leaned over, kissed her forehead. “But people get over disappointment.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in. “You need to talk to us, Belle.”

“I just left,” she said quietly. “I just left him. I…” she sighed, wishing she hadn’t poured that third glass. “He didn’t even tell me he had a son.”

“Is that why, then? Because he wasn’t opening up?”

“No,” she admitted. “We talked a lot, about other things. About…” She waved a hand. “Other things. I kept telling myself, though, that it was only sex. That is was convenient and neither one of us felt any more.” She bit her lip. “I left, Jeff, and he never called. I guess I just convinced myself he had to think the same.”

“I see.” He sat up on his elbows. “You know something? Once you get past the asshole outer layer, the guy’s hilarious. I want him to be my new best friend.”

That surprised a laugh out of her.

“I’m serious. That man knows how to roast someone and I need him on my side. If you can’t fix this and heal for yourself, do it for me, Belle. If you don’t want this man in your life, I will happily take your place.”

“From what you’ve said about today, he’d more likely to push you into traffic.”

“I would take that chance. We’d be happy together.”

She rolled over so her head was on his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him. “You’d make anyone happy.”

He kissed her temple. “If you won’t talk to me, Belle, at least talk to him. He’s been waiting for you a lot longer than I have.”

She tugged at his vest, straightening it. “Why can’t we just run away together.” She breathed in his cologne. He smelled nothing like Gold, but it was still comforting.

“Because we both deserve better.”

“What if he doesn’t want me anymore?”

His arms wound around her shoulders, squeezing once, then letting go. “Talk to him, Belle.”

“Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes. “You’re right.”

Short and simple, Emma had said.

Belle stood in the middle of the party room at Behind the Glass Bar and Grill, a table at her back decorated with a pristine tablecloth, three simple single sheet cakes (one chocolate, one vanilla, one pumpkin spice with cream cheese frosting), and a vase full of bright wildflowers.

She watched as Emma swept into the room, all eyes on her, on her slim white dress that hugged her hips, on her bouquet of vibrant sunflowers, hibiscus and orchids. Jefferson was beaming, hands clasped in front of him, standing as still as Belle had ever seen him. Across from him was Neal, unshaven but otherwise looking crisp in his tux. Beside him was Mulan and Aurora, holding hands as they all watched Emma come down their makeshift aisle.

Even Gold was smiling, happy to share the day with his son. She watched his smile deepen when Neal held his hand out to Emma.

Phillip nodded to both of them. “Welcome to the ceremony,” he said to the small group gathered. “Everyone knows why we’re here, and I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we all couldn’t be more thrilled to witness this blessed union.”

Belle couldn’t help the smirk when she saw Emma roll her eyes.

Emma and Neal said their vows. Aurora gave them their rings; they kissed. As everyone clapped, Belle looked over at Gold. She was surprised to see that he was already watching her.

He didn’t look away.

The soft light fell against the stone walls of the bar. Belle had been right; the bar was friendly and welcoming when it was filled with people. They had all moved out onto the main floor, everyone uncaring about their fancy attire.

Sunday wasn’t a huge pull for people, but there was enough noise and camaraderie, especially when patrons discovered Gold was picking up their checks in celebration of Emma’s and Neal’s nuptials. They were even offered a piece of cake, for as long as it lasted.

Belle sipped her water, watching Gold as he fiddled with his ring at his end of the bar. He was stiff, nursing a glass of whiskey, but had a handshake and a ready smile for anyone who came up to thank him for the free food and drinks.

She slowly made her way towards him, moving down a chair every so often. They both pretended that he wasn’t watching her get closer and closer.

Finally, all too soon, she was sitting next to him, staring into her drink. He watched the hockey game that was playing on the TV overhead, but she would bet the running tab he had that he wasn’t absorbing a bit of it.

“Did Emma choose this place just to annoy you?” she asked.

He looked at her in surprise, but Belle just shrugged. “You can’t tell me you’re comfortable.”

“This is where they met,” he said, after a moment. “They really didn’t care where it happened. I more or less called her bluff, I think.”

“Oh.”

They watched as a player took a shot. He missed.

“Jefferson and I aren’t together,” Belle said. “Never have been. We’re just friends.”

She felt him turn his gaze to her, but she kept her eyes on the screen. “We didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m sorry that happened.”

He looked down into his whiskey glass. “I see.”

She wondered if he missed his long hair; there wasn’t anything for him to hide behind anymore.

“I’m sorry I left,” she blurted.

His eyes flickered to hers, and she saw his lip twitch. He was desperately trying to keep his poker face.

“Are you?”

“My father died.” She gripped her water glass, the cold condensation wetting her skin. “There was a car accident, and he was just gone once day, and. It was too small, suddenly. Boston, my apartment. I felt claustrophobic and small, and I just...needed to leave, and…”

“So you did,” he finished quietly.

“So I did.” She swallowed back the tears threatening. “My lease was up, the semester had just ended at the college, so the library had cut my hours. The only thing really keeping me here was you. I kept telling myself that it was only sex, that it didn’t matter if I left. And then you didn’t even call, and I managed to convince myself that’s what you thought too. That I was right.”

“I’m sorry about your father.”

“Yeah,” she sucked in a breath. She let go of her glass, wiping her wet hand on her dress. “I…yeah. That’s no excuse though. I’m sorry I did that.”

He looked at her, eyes golden brown in the light of the bar. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and not let go this time.

“How long are you in town?”

“I don’t know.”

He grimaced. Gold opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by loud cheers from the other end of the bar. Neal had just dipped Emma, kissing her soundly as their audience clapped.

Belle felt her color rise. This was an inappropriate time to try to have this conversation. “I should let you enjoy the rest of the wedding,” she said. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Just as Belle was slipping away, his hand caught her wrist, pulling her back.

“Come to my shop tomorrow,” he said. “We can… we’ll talk there.”

Belle kissed him, just on the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised.

The shop hadn’t changed. There was the sign that hung above the door, large and old. Almost outdated, if it didn’t compliment the rustic brick building, and every other building on the block.

Belle stood on the sidewalk, counting the items she recognized in the display cases (she kept telling him to rotate stock out, but he never did. Maybe they could do it together. It was a good thought, she decided).

It was early, but the sun was bright. She tugged awkwardly on her sundress, wondering if he’d be in, or if she’d have to come back. She didn’t want to put this off longer than she already had, nor give him the impression she had disappeared again.

If this was going to work, she couldn’t shut him out. They’d move forward, together.

She took a deep breath. Belle pushed the door open, relieved that it was unlocked. With the bell twinkling above her, she stepped inside.

[lochdandloaded]

From Me To You (Oneshot)

Rating: T Pairing(s): McCree/Hanzo (McHanzo) Warnings/Triggers: Animal death(s), mentions of blood, mild swearing Notes: Mermaid AU, Mermaid!McCree, Human!Hanzo, guess who’s the furry Summary: A misunderstanding between species leads to a surprising show of feelings and opens a certain archer’s eyes to what their unusual connection could mean.

A fic for @kannibal‘s MerCree AU over on Twitter (go check it out for more info and art!!) <3 And some writing practice for me should I ever open writing commissions.

AO3 || Twitter || Ko-Fi || Storenvy

Read below the cut

The penguins had only been the beginning of the madness.

Not long after meeting the mer-creature (merman? Mer-seal? Mer-Flirts-A-Lot?) Jesse, Hanzo had opened the door to his lone outpost cabin and was welcomed by a bleeding, barely alive Adélie penguin. Once he’d swallowed down the panic and grabbed the bird in a towel, he rushed it to the Ecopoint main base and gave it to someone with basic first aid knowledge.

His colleagues questioned him end to end and all he could divulge was that he had no clue about anything (never before had that been more true than it was now). They dropped it soon enough and before long, Hanzo forgot about the incident entirely.

Then he had a very dead, torn up toothfish dumped on his doorstep that left him all the more confused.

(How the fuck had a toothfish gotten out of the northern fisheries?!)

By the time the fifth dead and de-feathered Chinstrap penguin greeted him at his door, Hanzo had enough and stormed out to investigate the source, bow and quiver across his back (should he feel like indulging his trigger finger). The trail of blood led him to the rocky beach where he knew Jesse’s beloved walruses sunned themselves, though this early in the morning it was barren except, speak of the devil…

“If it ain’t the most handsome whaler son t’ step foot on this beach,” Jesse announced from his spot in the shallow waves, fins slapping against the water as he preened and smirked.

Hanzo glared.

“What the hell have you been doing?”

Hanzo crossed his arms as he marched over, holding back a shiver against the harsh coastal breeze and keeping his gaze solely on Jesse’s face, no lower no matter how tempting it was to appreciate the mer’s humanoid half.

He stopped once he was close enough to smack the coral hat off Jesse’s smug head and kept glaring as the mer fumbled to catch it.

“Hey—!”

“I know it’s you who’s been leaving dead penguins at my cabin, Jesse.” Hanzo scoffed and put his hands on his hips, scowling as Jesse put his hat back on and pushed himself up to eye level.

“Darlin’, I’m just helping—”

“How?”

Hanzo took a breath and blinked, flushing at how close Jesse leaned in. He pulled back enough to keep the red away from the mer’s inquisitive stare and pulled his hood over his freezing ears, then rubbed his arms quickly. Jesse watched carefully.

“Han, don’t think I ain’t noticed that ya don’t have food at your home,” Jesse started, voice soft enough Hanzo felt it rather than heard it, even with the gap between them. “It ain’t nothing to be ‘shamed of, hell it took Papá years to stop me from expectin’ bucket scraps an’ even longer to get me huntin’ on my own—”

Wait, what?

Hunting? “That’s what this is about?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

The mer thought he couldn’t hunt? Him - Shimada Hanzo, raised in a family infamous for whaling and killing - couldn’t hunt for himself on this patch of melting ice? That he needed help from someone who wasn’t even human—

Hanzo felt his ire and pride flair as he buried his face into his palm, grinding his teeth and barely resisting the urge to growl at the absurdity of it all. It would be easy, so so easy to snap and never look back, unleash his irritation on someone who…

Who wasn’t human.

What did Jesse know of cafeterias, mess halls, refrigerators, bento boxes and leftovers in tupperware? Sea leopards were solitary creatures  by nature, fending for themselves from a young age with no thought to how any others survived. Sure, Jesse wasn’t the same, but it was enough to give Hanzo pause.

It wasn’t Jesse’s fault, he wasn’t to blame.

A loud squawk brought Hanzo to full attention, glancing over his shoulder. An albatross was hopping across the rocks some distance away, plucking washed up krill and crabs from the sandy gaps.

Jesse peered with him, raising an eyebrow into that mess he dared to call hair, curiosity crinkling the corner of his eyes, dark skin glistening with salt that dried out his mouth at the thought of his taste—

A snap of his wrist brought his bow into grip, arrow loaded and flying before he had a chance to let go of his breathe.

The arrow burst through the bird’s head in silence, pinned to the uneven ground without so much as a twitch in the legs.

Hanzo smirked and looked back at Jesse, pride practically glowing from his very being. The mer was staring wide, pupils blown to hide every trace of brown, hand and claw hung uselessly in midair and his mouth was agape, showing off his sharp teeth. What really caught his eye was the bright blush all over his face, neck, creeping down to his generous chest, highlighting the freckles and faint scars peppered over his skin.

A low chittering slipped past Jesse’s loose lips and he didn’t stop staring, though his tail thumped against the waves and his powerful muscles tightened under the blubber. He was full of rightful fear, awe and something else entirely that Hanzo didn’t recognise on his particular face.

Hanzo cleared his throat and shouldered his bow. Jesse didn’t budge.

“I can hunt perfectly fine myself.” He reached out and pushed the mer’s mouth shut, flicking his bright nose before turning away to fetch his arrow.

The gaze burnt into his back the entire time, even as he left the beach and returned home.

0XX0

Hanzo didn’t really see Jesse again for a while after the confrontation on the beach. February rolled into March, then April, and the most Hanzo saw of him was a startled jump into the nearest body of water when their eyes met (he thought he’d spotted the mer when the elephant seals came on land to molt, but nothing came of it).

Well, the dead penguins and (possibly) stolen fish at his doorstep had stopped for good.

But Hanzo found himself missing Jesse’s company. As strange and annoying he could be sometimes, his visits brought joy to this new life of Hanzo’s that his colleagues couldn’t compare to. For another species, Jesse was surprisingly easy to get along with, most days.

So of course, the morning Hanzo decided to catch the mer, Jesse came to him instead.

He opened the door to his cabin to find the mer standing too closely to the frame, hands behind his back and face caught in the headlights. Hanzo froze, blinking as he took in the sight. Jesse worked his jaw, no words coming out despite it.   

“Jesse,” Hanzo started, looking around in lieu of having to face those shying browns. “What… are you doing here?”

‘Smooth, Hanzo. Very smooth.’

Jesse cleared his throat and shifted on his fins, looking all for the world like he wanted to be somewhere else. The thought made Hanzo frown and crease his brow; what had changed?

“Hey, darlin’.” He rolled his shoulders, still hiding his hands. Hanzo stayed in his spot. “Sorry I ain’t been ‘round, I’ve been busy an’ didn’t wanna spoil it.”

Hanzo quirked an eyebrow up, narrowing his eyes. “Spoil what?”

Jesse opened his mouth but quickly shut it and straightened up, a smile growing and sparking his eyes. Hanzo watched as he clapped his fins together and held out his arms, presenting a folded up… cloth?

Jesse nudged it into his arms, smirk forming in the quirk of his lips and beard. “Take a look, angelfish.”

Hanzo blinked at the nickname but set it aside for later discussion as he unraveled the fabric in his arms. He held it out in front of him and his jaw went slack at the sight he beheld.

A thick blanket of fur dropped out onto the ground, soft against his fingers, and woven into the outer coat were layers of shining feathers; black to grey to white to orange, blending in seamlessly with each other and the dark fur. Hanzo ran a hand down them, breath hitching at the silky texture and how his fingers sank into them, spreading warmth up his arm.

Hanzo broke away to stare at Jesse, feeling that warmth creep over his face but finding no room to care about it underneath the overwhelming tenderness threatening to make his heart swell out of his chest. He breathed carefully and swallowed.

“You made this…?”

Jesse chuckled and took off his hat to run his hand through his hair, the dry salt catching in the high sunlight and bringing back not-so-innocent thoughts of the mer’s taste. Hanzo didn’t banish it, knowing he was already red enough to be able to deny anything.

(He didn’t want to.)

“I know it’s a couple months late t’ give it to ya, but I still want you to have it, Han.” Jesse shuffled closer, pulling the shawl off the ground to press against Hanzo’s chest. “Try it on.”

Hanzo nodded, adjusted his hold and threw it around his shoulders, wrapping it tightly around himself. A wave of heat enveloped him, even as the April breeze turned his legs to ice, and he let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. He brought it in closer, digging his hands into the softness and reveling in the rare comfort it brought him.

He smiled at Jesse, only a small thing not as sharp as his usual snark and wit, but it might as well have shined brighter than the sun if Jesse’s wide grin was anything to go by. He chittered again and whistled, making Hanzo laugh quietly.

“Thank you, Jesse. I love it.”

“Really?” Jesse lit up and Hanzo nodded, keeping his chuckles to himself.

He picked up his travel pack and locked his cabin door, watching Jesse all the while as he seemed to bounce and flash his teeth with little care to who saw. Hanzo headed off at a lackadaisical pace, smile still present.

“Walk with me to the docks?”

As they walked, one poised and the other cumbersome, Hanzo’s thoughts drifted off as he allowed himself this joy of being with someone like Jesse. Someone with qualities he hadn’t the courage to name or admit he admired yet.

He should get him a gift as well…