#I’ve had stretch marks on my knees for YEARS and then out of nowhere he pointed them out today

[aspiringtrashpanda]

🍙TOGE x YUUTA💍

This is for my spontaneous event, which can be found here! I LOVE this prompt, thank you Twitter friend! There’s something just so bewitching about the mountains and the sage and I had so much fun writing (and doing way too much research about sage for) this! 💕

“Italics” is sign language

No C/W apply

“Why did we have to get Ijichi to drive us 3 hours way, into the middle of nowhere, again?” Yuuta asked, lifting his knees high as he stepped around the crawling bushes and tree roots of the Honshu mountains.

He heard Maki scoff from up ahead, her jade ponytail swinging with each step she took as she lead the team into further wilderness, “It’s not the middle of nowhere.  We’re at the base of Mt. Fuji.”

“Base?” Yuuji scrambled after her, red sneakers digging into the loose soil marking their departure from the main, trodden trail, “We just climbed... like a wholeass mountain.”

Panting as she stretched her arms high above her head in an attempt to relieve a stitch in her side, Nobara huffed, “Well, yeah, a mountain is made up of smaller mountains.”

“I thought just the peak was considered Mt. Fuji,” Megumi added, gaze fixed to the birds flitting from tree to tree, their shadows dancing against the midday sun. 

Panda lifted a claw to his chin, following Megumi’s stare as he mused, “The whole island is Mt. Fuji, I think?”

Maki paused mid-step, shooting an incredulous look over her shoulder, “You’re all idiots.”

“Shake,” Toge spoke up from where he walked next to Yuuta, hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy pants as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned about tripping.

Maki snorted, “Oh shut up, Toge.  You’re no better.”

“Okaka!”

“But why are we here?” Yuuta tried again, accidentally nudging Toge’s shoulder with his bicep as he swerved to avoid a particularily pointed, low-hanging branch.  

Heat rocketed through his arm like he had been stuck by lightning, his heart skipping a beat.  

Toge blinked up at him in surprise, concern lancing through those pretty, lilac, heavy-lidded eyes with the platinum lashes that kissed his cheeks whenever he blinked and...

Yuuta squawked as the tip of his shoe knocked against a rock.  

Nobara narrowed her eyes as she glanced in his direction, as if she was disgusted by his panic over something as inoffensive as a rock... or still not over the whole Kyoto thing from his first year.  Who knows.  It had been months since he had returned home from abroad, and to this day, he had no clue where he stood with the fiery woman.

He must have looked might pathetic, stumbling over roots and branches like he wasn’t a Special Grade sorcerer, since she took pity on him.  “There’s this thing I read about online that I want to try.  I’m pretty sure there’s a ghost in my dorm room and I’ve tried almost everything else,” She finally answered.

“Did you...” Yuuji jumped over a fallen tree trunk, “Did you try exorcising it?”

“It’s a ghost, not a curse, you imbecile!” She snapped back.  

Maki let out a dramatic sigh, looking over her shoulder once more to lament, “And here I thought she just wanted to sleep in my room for me.”  She shot a wink in Nobara’s direction, ducking under a branch without even looking.

“Well that too, but the point is that I need sage.  To burn.  To rid my room of bad energy,” Nobara punctuated each break in the sentence by hopping from boulder to boulder, the path growing more rocky the higher they wandered, “It’s supposed to clear approximately 94 percent of airborne bacteria and release negative ions, which bring forth positive vibes.”

“Vibes, yeah,” Yuuji nodded, feigning comprehension.  

“You know, I also read about smudging online,” Megumi started, surprising everybody.  Heads swiveled towards him, eyes wide.  Yuuta stumbled as a leaf obscured his view momentarily.  Megumi frowned, continuing, “More so about the impact on nature from the over-harvesting of sage due to New Age practices growing in popularity.”

The group hummed in disappointed comprehension.  Very few people enjoyed reading boring non-fiction articles in their free time.  Megumi and, like, 7 other people.  If that.

“No one said you had to join, party pooper,” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Besides, sage is native to Honshu.  There’s almost too much of it here.”  

“YO! Is that a giant panda!?” Yuuji’s excited gasp had everyone rushing ahead, just to meet more disappointment.  

“Just me,” Panda lumbered back to the group, a cluster of yellow flowers in hand. “Sorry to let you down, but there are no pandas on Mt. Fuji.  Is this the sage you’re looking for, Kugisaki?”

Yuuta immediately looked to Toge as the others gathered around Panda’s find.  

Toge’s shoulders had slumped slightly, his eyes on his shoes as he trudged along.

Yuuta extended a hand, considering touching Toge’s back in comfort.  Of course Toge would deflate after Panda’s admission.  He loved pandas.  He had probably been quietly wishing they would see one, and now his dreams had been crushed in an instant.    

Yuuta was overwhelmed by an urge to make it all better, to find a panda somewhere and present it to Toge just to see his pretty smile, to see the way his dimples warped seals on either side of his mouth.  He was pretty sure that Toge’s smile was to Yuuta what pandas were to Toge, and he never ever wanted to go another day without seeing the way Toge’s nose squished and his cheeks – covered in a fine dusting of freckles – lifted when he laughed, squinting his enchanting eyes and...  

“HEY! Is that a red panda?”

Ah.  He had zoned out again, apparently coming back to earth just in time to see Yuuji throw himself deeper into the forest, accelerating by the second, swiftly disappearing from view.  

“Wait! Itadori, don’t-” Megumi’s head lolled against his backpack as he groaned up at the sky, “We have to go after him, don’t we?”

Murmurs of resignation were interupted only by Toge sighing, “Okaka.” He shrugged when everyone looked his way, signing, “Speak for yourself.”

As everyone rushed off in the direction that Yuuji had disappeared, Toge wandered off in the opposite direction, Yuuta following him.  

Toge had to know that Yuuta was there.  It had already been made painfully obvious that Yuuta was as clumsy as a newborn foal in such an obstacle-ridden environment.  Though, despite Yuuta’s shoes crunching twigs as he trotted after Toge, the latter made no effort to acknowledge him.

Not until he reached the treeline, the forest opening up into a grassy, sloping hill, a mountain valley stretching before them.  Only then, when he stood at the edge of the forest, the backdrop painted with clear blue sky and emerald green forest, did Toge look back at Yuuta, smiling softly and squinting against the sun.    

“Hey, Inumaki-san, um,” Yuuta watched as Toge plopped himself down in the tall grass, mountain breeze lifting strands of pale blond hair to dance in the clean air, “Do you mind if I join you?”

Toge patted the ground next to him.  

They sat in silence for a little bit, Toge’s features relaxing as he gazed out over the field.  In the distance, a deer and her fawn skittered around the far edge of forest.  Yuuta admired the way Toge’s breath caught in his throat, a faint gasp muffled by the face mask he had donned for their excursion, as he watched the animals interact with the nature around them.  The affection in Toge’s pretty eyes had Yuuta’s heart hammering in his chest.

Then, Toge turned to him, raising a brow in silent question, and Yuuta realized that he’d been caught staring.

“Um,” Yuuta floundered, trying to come up with something, anything, to say, “Do you think the sage thing really works?”

“Tuna tuna,” Toge shrugged, his eyes crinkling with amusement like he could see right through him.  His fingers flashed a quick, “Maybe.”

“Do you want to try it?”

“Okaka,” Toge waved him off, “Don’t need to.”

Yuuta balked, his jaw droping as he stammered through a protest, “What do you mean?!  We’re literally surrounded by negative energy all the time.  Wouldn’t it be nice to, I don’t know, not feel the crushing weight of cursed energy for a little bit?”

Toge hummed, turning his eyes to the mountains in the distance as he answered, “I already have my own way of smudging out the negative ‘vibes’.”

“You do?” Yuuta held his breath as Toge nodded.  

“Everything feels a lot lighter when you’re around.”

Did he mean...?  Like, the way that Toge had Yuuta feeling as though he was pumped full of helium whenever he so much as looked at him?  

“It does?” Yuuta curled his fingers into the grass, trying to ground himself, to set his expectations low, “Am I, um, am I controlling that?  Was Miguel supposed to teach me about this?”

“Yuuta,” Toge chuckled, reaching out to flick Yuuta’s nose, “I’m saying I like being around you.”

“Oh, I like being around my friends too,” Yuuta thought we was going to have a heartattack.  This wasn’t real.  This was a dream, right?  If he pinched himself he’d wake up and...

“Okaka,” Toge blinked slowly, unable to stop the way his shoulders shook in mirth, amusement making his hands tremble as he signed, “I like you more than a friend.”

“More than a friend?” Yuuta was going to die.

“I’m saying I have a crush on you.”

This was so much better than his dreams.  He had always thought that he’d be the one to confess to Toge, with some of Toge’s favourite flowers, in Tokyo, after taking him to dinner at his favorite sushi restaurant.  

And yet, here, surrounded by nature and mountains and the clear, blue sky, Toge’s blush creeping up from the edge of his face mask as his eyes darted away nervously... Yuuta couldn’t have asked for more.  

“Oh.  Oh,” He scrambled to his knees, twisting his body so that he was facing Toge, the grass      around them waving in the crisp breeze, molding to their shapes, “Oh!  Inumaki-san, I have a crush on you too!”  

“Shake?” Toge’s eyes widened, flitting back to Yuuta’s as they flooded with relief and nervous anticipation.  

“I do!” Yuuta’s voice cracked, jumping up an octave as he grabbed one of Toge’s hands, gushing, “God, Inuamki-san, I’ve had a crush on you for so long.”  

“Gross,” Toge finger-spelled.

Yuuta could have sworn he heard the record scratch.  “Oh, were you joking?”

“YUUTA!” Toge laughed, louder than Yuuta had ever heard him, tearing off his face mask to reveal his wide beam, his flushed cheeks his ever so kissable lips that were just calling Yuuta’s name.

So Yuuta leaned in and kissed him like it was something he had done thousands of times before.  Which, if he was including in dreams, he had.

Toge’s lips were soft against his own, slotting against his mouth like they belonged there, and god, Yuuta had known that to be true for so long.  

“Can I... Can I call you babe?” Yuuta caressed Toge’s cheek, gazing lovingly into his eyes, sparkling in pure joy.  

“Okaka,” Toge snorted, squishing up his nose.

He tried another approach, “...Dear?”

“O-ka-ka,” Toge punctuated each syllable with a kiss to Yuuta’s cheek, to his nose, to his lips.

“How about sweetheart?”

Toge mulled this one over, pursing his lips in thought.  Yuuta was prepared for another rejection, when he hummed, nodding with finality, “Shake.”

Yuuta smiled so hard his cheeks ached.  

“Hey, Nobara!” That was Yuuji’s voice, the sound of multiple pairs of shoes thumping against the ground nearing alarmingly fast. “This article says you’re supposed to use white sage.  This is Japanese yellow sage!”  

“Japanese sage for a Japanese ghost?” Toge pumped his eyebrows, grinning mischievously at Yuuta, his perfect teeth and pale pink lips so inviting.  

Yuuta grinned, unable to help himself, “I’m going to kiss you again, sweetheart.” 

And, because the universe hated him, his friends rolled up to the forest clearning just in time to not only hear his claim, but to see it in action too.

The ride back to Tokyo had been less than pleasant.  

“Hey, sweetheart, can you pass me the AUX?” Yuuji tapped Toge on the shoulder, gesturing to the stereo console closest to the latter’s seat next to Ijichi.  

Nobara butted in, thrusting her beverage into Toge’s hands, “Sweetheart, can you put my iced coffee in the cupholder?”

Yuuta groaned, ignoring the chuckles bouncing around the interior of the vehicle. 

“Everyone leave Yuuta alone,” Maki scolded, offering Yuuta reprieve.

...That lasted for a split second before she turned to Toge, adding, “You too, sweetheart.”  

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 13

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 3125

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

********************************************************************

You watched as Dabi paced in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. Shoto had come to sit next to you and you were grateful for his calming presence. He kept giving you a weird look and then looking at his brother. He obviously wanted to ask what was going on between the two of you, but you mouthed, “later” at him and he shrugged it off.

“Ok. So what? He has a list of my safe houses. That’s okay… That’s arguably a good thing actually.” Dabi was thinking out loud trying, and even though his voice sounded calm, you could see the way his hands balled into fists so tight his staples were pulling.

“No one knows about this place. This is the safest house out of all of them. I bought it after I left the League, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the security is the best money can buy.” He stopped his pacing and looked at his brother, “So…”

Shoto draped a lazy arm around you and you released a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He quirked his head at his older brother, “So…? What? Why is that a good thing?”

Dabi’s eyes got this scary look. They practically glowed and you could tell whatever he was thinking probably wasn’t good. “It means we can pick them off. Set up traps for them at my other safe houses. It might take some time… we won’t know what houses they’re targeting so at first it’ll be a lot of guess work.” You could see a scheme hatching behind his eyes and for once he truly looked like a villain. “You said Bakugo was already out looking for them, right? I can meet up with him! They’re my houses after all, no one knows them better than me.”

He took off towards the bedroom mumbling something about needing to pack. Your wide eyes connected with Shoto’s, “How long before he remembers he’d have to leave me behind and panics?”

Shoto hummed, “I’d say about thirty seconds after he’s done packing.” He shrugged, “It’s not a bad plan honestly. I see he’s gotten rather attached to you lately though.”

You could hear the unspoken question and you weren’t sure you were ready to jump into that conversation just yet. It was bad enough that Katsuki knew. You shrugged and averted your eyes back to the door Dabi had disappeared behind. “We’ve gotten pretty close. You learn a lot about someone when you’re stuck in a house with them.”

“SHIT!”

Shoto sighed, “Sounds like he just remembered.”

Dabi stomped back into the living room and stopped a few feet in front of you. His stare was intense almost like he was trying to see through you. You could see his frustration growing as he battelled internally over what he should do. “I can’t leave you here by yourself… I don’t want to leave you at all. But- But I can’t take you with me either.” You could see his mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution.

“You can leave me here, I’m not totally useless. I have the collar, so you can call me, check on my location and vitals and all that creepy shit.” You gestured to the younger Todoroki sitting next to you, “And I’m sure your brother and Izuku are dying to have some time to catch up. They can keep me company. Kiri too if need be.”

Dabi kneeled in front of you and laid his arms on either side of you, caging you in. “It would drive me insane leaving you here.”

You brushed your thumb over the spot between his eyes, smoothing out his worried expression. “More insane than if you stayed here and let Katsuki handle this on his own?”

His body sagged and he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you want me to go.”

You leaned your head on his. “Of course I don’t want you to go idiot. But I hate to break it to you, I know you pretty well… And I don’t think sitting here day after day listening to you complain about how you could do it better, sounds like fun.” He groaned because he knew you were right. “So, go ahead and go. I’ll be fine here I promise. Go catch some bad guys with Katsuki.”

“Ugh don’t say it like that. You make is sound like a cheesy buddy cop movie. I just hope your little hero friend isn’t squeamish because I’m not going to hold back.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Some of us… little heroes… have seen enough shit to last a lifetime. Bakugo’s the hardest working and grittiest out of us all, so believe me when I say you don’t need to worry about him.”

Dabi narrowed his eyes at his brother who he had just realized was practically cuddling with you. “Seeing death and dealing it out are two different things. I know he’s capable of killing someone, but mentally I don’t think he could cross that line.” He held a hand up to stop Shoto from arguing with him. “And I don’t care if he doesn’t want to get his precious hero hands dirty. Because that’s what I’m here for, and I’m honestly looking forward to it.”

You huffed, “Listen, I really don’t like the look you get when you talk about killing people. It’s sick… killing isn’t supposed to be fun you psychopath.”

His eyes shifted back to yours, “Baby girl. I want to make something clear. I will find the sick fucks that kidnapped you. I will torture them in the most painful and humiliating ways possible. By the time I’m done… they will welcome death with open arms. I’ll be doing them a favor.” His forehead pressed against yours. “Unless you’d rather I save them for you…My destroyer of men.”

You hit his shoulder, “I’d rather you let Katsuki arrest them! You know how I feel about killing villains.”

His hand gripped the back of your neck hard to force you to look at him, “…No. You know I can’t do that. The sooner you accept that, the easier all of this will be.” His thumb rubbed your cheek, “I know it sucks. But this is the world you live in now. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Listen I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from being kinky in my presence.”

Dabi growled, “Fuck off! You literally let yourself in unannounced… When all of this over I swear we’re leaving the fucking country. I’m so sick of you brats just coming over whenever you feel like it. We’re gonna leave and you’ll never see us again.”

Shoto quirked an eyebrow, “So… Even after all of this is resolved… you plan to still live with y/n?” You could see the gears turning in his head as he pieced all of this together. “Hmm interesting.” He got up and stretched. “Well I guess I’ll give you guys some alone time to… do whatever this is… just without me having to witness it.”

“Hey before you go… You sure you’re okay with keeping an eye on her while I’m gone?” You hadn’t heard Dabi sound so uncertain before. Usually he carried so much confidence that it was overwhelming. But now he sounded lost.

Shoto nodded, “Yeah it’s not a big deal. Izuku and I can take shifts. Kirishima will probably take over every now and then depending on how long you are gone… But we don’t mind. Y/n was right when she said we’d like to catch up with her.” He gave you an awkward wink that was completely out of character for him. “You’ve been hoarding her all to yourself for months now.” He walked down the hall and shouted, “Try not to be too loud. I’ll just pick the room that smells the least like sex.”

“Good luck! I’ve fucked her on every surface of the hou—” You slammed a hand over Dabi’s mouth to cut him off.

You hid your face in Dabi’s shoulder to stifle your laugh. “I love your brother so much. He has no filter and it’s honestly so refreshing.”

A quick slap to your thigh had you gasping, “I don’t appreciate you talking about my brother that way.” He nipped at your earlobe harshly, “Especially after I just agreed to let him stay here while I’m gone.”

Before you could respond he was standing up and throwing you over his shoulder, “I think I need to remind you who you fucking belong to.” He slapped your ass as you shrieked, “I might be gone for a while, so I think I need to give you something to remember.”

“You are so ridiculous! He’s literally in a committed relationship with another man!”

Dabi tossed you onto his bed and immediately fell on top of you. “He’s also my brother and I know that slut swings both ways.” He bit down hard on your shoulder, “I’m going to leave my fucking mark all over you before I go.” He sucked a bruise into your neck, “Tonight… I’m going to claim every fucking inch of you.”

He had you naked underneath him within seconds, kissing down the column of your neck. He continued down to suck a nipple into his mouth and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from screaming.

“Come on baby, let him hear you. Let him hear how good I treat you. Let him know that there is only one Todoroki for you.”

You wanted to argue with him. There was no way Shoto was interested in you at all. He’d been in love with Izuku since high school. But you were also enjoying the way Dabi was marking his territory. There was something so peaceful about giving up control to another person, especially someone you trust.

You let him kiss and suck and grope every part of you. In this moment you were his to do with as he wished. You didn’t care he was leaving mark after mark on your skin. He was claiming you, he was daring others to lay a finger on what it is his. And you fucking loved it. You loved the peace and the comfort that came with the idea of him declaring that you are his. The security of knowing he wouldn’t let another soul touch you.

He bit harshly into your inner thigh, making you yelp and buck your hips.

He chuckled darkly as he came back up and rubbed his nose against yours. “Baby girl, just look at your face. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and you already looked so fucked out.” He dragged his fingers lightly over your stomach, across your ribs, over your breast, and finally let them settle on your neck.

You shivered and closed your eyes, “Dabiiii, stop teasing me.”

His fingers tightened around your throat. “You said some shit earlier that really got under my skin. And now I can’t decide if I should punish you or not.”

Your head spun as it tried to think about what you possibly could have said to upset him. “What – what did I say?”

Dabi leaned in sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before biting down hard. “You said…. You loved my brother.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt an intense heart overwhelm your face and neck. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Was he jealous? Did he want you to say you loved him? Is that really what he wanted to hear?

You hadn’t noticed him pulling his own pants down until he was thrusting into you. “I’m a selfish man y/n. I’m greedy. I don’t share. And hearing those sweet little words said about someone else.” His hips snapped into yours harder, as his fingers got even tighter around your neck to the point where you were sure there would be bruises.

His pace picked up and you could feel the sweat dripping from his forehead, “I wanna hear you say it. Who do you love?”

Your eyes rolled back as you croaked out a horse “you”

“That’s not good enough doll. I said! WHO do you FUCKIN LOVE?”

His fingers let go of your throat and as intense pleasure washed over you, leaving your legs shaking, “YOU!”

He fucked you through your orgasm before he followed right behind you, “That’s what I fuckin thought.”

He only parted with you long enough to clean the two of you up. He wandered to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. You hummed contently as rubbed it all over your body, especially over the sore new marks he had made on your skin. When he was satisfied, he tossed the rag to the floor to deal with later and rejoined you in bed. He pulled you to him, your back to his chest, and let out a huge sigh. “I’m really nervous about leaving you here. And it honestly makes me angry. I’ve never cared about another person like this, hell I’ve never even cared about my own well being this much.” You could feel him resting his chin on your shoulder, “It makes me feel weak and I hate it.”

You intertwined your fingers with his that were wrapped around your middle. “You know what they say about bravery right? Bravery isn’t not being scared. Only stupid people aren’t scared of anything. Bravery is being scared of something and doing it anyway.” You sank further into his embrace. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared too. Which is equally as frustrating.”

You could feel him kiss your shoulder, encouraging you to continue. “I used to be incredibly independent. I lived alone, I worked alone, because of the classified nature of my job I was pretty isolated. I didn’t need anyone, and I was more than happy to get shit done on my own…Now the thought doing anything without you gives me anxiety.”

He sighed, “If anything that makes me feel worse… I believe we have a classic case of codependency… it’s your fault by the way. For sucking me in to your annoyingly needy arms.”

“Says the guy who has his arms currently wrapped around me like a vice.” You wanted to stay in this sweet moment. He was never this open with you, never this soft. “And even though it’s not my fault, I will admit that I did kind of need you for everything when I first got here.” You felt his chest rumble with silent laughter. “But you never really complained, did you? To be honest I had thought you would have been… I don’t know… a little more… cold I guess.”

His hands heated up as they rubbed circles into your stomach. “To anyone else I definitely would have been.” He turned you around so he could pull your chest to his and rolled onto his back, tucking your head under his chin. “I was fucking toast the second you fell into my arms though.” He groaned, “UGH! I sound like such a pussy. I hate it.”

You pressed several kisses to his chest, “Well I don’t hate it.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which the two of you just held each other, not wanting to burst your bubble.

Dabi cleared his throat and you knew he wanted to talk about it. “Listen… While I’m gone all of the laws are still valid. You still need to take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here to force you to eat lunch doesn’t mean you don’t have to.” His fingers rubbed up and down your spine. “I’m sure if you ask the guys, they’ll work out with you, but they need to keep their filthy hands to themselves.” His hand stopped at your collar, “And as much I hate saying this. Don’t call me.”

You lifted your head and gave him a confused look, “What? You worried your side chicks will hear?”

He reached down and slapped your ass, “Shut up. I literally live with you and we never leave the house. That jokes not even funny.” His hand started to rub the same spot he had just slapped, “I’m being serious though. I don’t want you to call me. If something happens and they get my phone, or hell if they somehow capture me, I don’t want anything tying me to you. Shigaraki suspects you’re with me otherwise he wouldn’t be going through my safe houses. But he doesn’t know you’re with me, and I want to keep it that way.” His voice got quitter as he mumbled into your hair, “Besides… I think if I heard your voice I’d give up and come home.”

You froze, “Okay, that is officially the softest thing you’ve ever said to me… and I love it.”

He growled low in your ear, “That’s it, I’m going to start calling you whore, and making you call me sir. I’m losing my damn edge.”

You just giggled, knowing he was bluffing, but then again… he did get you a collar.

“I’m going to miss you… sir.”

“I’m gonna miss you too… my special little whore.”

You sarcastically beamed at him, “Aww you think I’m special?”

That night, you barley slept. You were so worried he’d leave without waking you up to say bye. So, as a consequence you woke up several times throughout the night and every time, he’d pull you closer and mumble a sleepy “still here.”

When morning finally came you sat on the bed with your kneed tucked under your chin as you watched him finish getting ready. Your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, taking his time. He knew the sooner he got dressed the sooner he’d have to leave.

Finally, when he had no other choice, he laced his boots up and looked at you. “Come here…” He held his arms out to you and you quickly slid into his embrace. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” He kissed the top of your head. “Listen to Shoto and try not to give him too much shit. Follow the laws, don’t watch any of our shows while I’m gone, if there’s any big emergencies have one of the guys call Bakugo.”

You nodded and looked up into his bright blue eyes, “You be safe, and don’t do anything stupid. Come back preferably in one piece please.”

He chuckled, “I will do my best doll.”

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi

[dreamcatcherjiah]

Title: Crabs and Pebbles

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: None, total fluff (crab-loving Joon, need I say more?)

A/N: I told my best friend @annywaa that I was planning on writing a Joon AU and she suggested I write a fluffy piece with JOON AND CRABS! What was I gonna do, say no? I hope this was up to your expectations, love!

After more than a year and a half saving money, picking up part-time jobs here and there on top of your day job, you finally had enough to scratch the first item on your bucket list: your first alone trip. Your friends all mocked you, not understanding what was so fascinating about a tiny island in the middle of some ocean that you wanted to go there so desperately. Actually, what they didn’t understand was that the destination was the least important part of your trip. The day you were set to get on the plane, you woke up ecstatic and with a huge smile on your face, every little ritual that you took for granted before now meant so much. Packing your luggage a couple of days before had felt sacrosanct; choosing your best clothes, your favourite ones, so that from then on they’d also have the best of memories woven into them. You also packed your polaroid camera, with dozens upon dozens of packets of undeveloped film so you could capture every second. The ritual, the steps of preparation that you had missed so much while the planet’s life was on hold, was a balm to your tattered nerves. Taking a taxi to the airport brought back so many memories, uncountable flights to destinations that, years later still held a huge part of your heart, so many people with whom you had shared those incredible experiences, all etched in your memory. 

The second you set a foot on the plane, a sense of belonging and calm washed all over your body and you pulled out the camera to snap a picture of the outside of your window. If your body held only a minimum amount of tension, it was all left behind with the feeling of weightlessness and freedom you felt when the plane took off. 

Your plan had been to relax in your room the rest of the first day so jet lag wouldn’t be too much of a bother but, upon seeing the sights you discovered you wanted to lock yourself inside no more than you wanted to go back home. You had found a small resort, only two or three bungalows, after hours of deep surfing among different websites. The small huts were all huddled together, their doors looking directly at the vast expanse of sand and the small cove more to the right. Not even bothering to unpack, you changed into your bathing suit and, grabbing the sunscreen bottle, left to explore the beach. 

The sand, fresh at such an early hour, tickled in between your toes as you decidedly made your way toward the shore, from dry land where your feel only left circulars marks on the ground to the wet and compact patch closer to the water, your footsteps turning into defined decalcomania as you walked. The crystalline water made it almost too easy for you to peek inside; on the ground, next to your feet, a multitude of eroded rocks and pebbles moved with the tide, some clear, others opaque but iridescent.

Their colours and forms used to fascinate you when you were a child, every time your family would go to the beach, you were the one out of all of them who didn’t care for playing among the waves or sunbathing. You would set yourself a limit, left and right of where your family set your belongings and start, your goal clear in your mind: find as many pebbles as your little hands could carry back to the hammocks. Now, even if many years had passed, your inner child screeched at the possibility of having this whole expand of untouched sand to find the finest pebble and take it home as a souvenir. 

After walking up and down the sandy mounds, you got closer and closer to the cove, it wasn’t your fault that the prettiest shells and pebble stones were in that part of the beach. One of the few clouds in the sky dissolved in just the right second, allowing a sunbeam to reflect on something on the ground directly into your eyes, blinding you for a second. Focusing on exactly what had dared to attack you in such an uncalled-for manner, you noticed movement behind a grey-and-white, marble-like pebble, with a golden patina which you weren’t sure if it was an optical illusion or it was really there. Crouching down, you stretched your hand just when a pair of arms came out of nowhere and clutched their respective fists around your pebble. Everything would have been fine and dandy if a huge body hadn’t come barreling after the arms, only to lose its footing and make the both of you collapse. Your hands had fortunately taken the brunt of the fall but, even so, your backside started feeling sore as soon as it touched the compacted sand. You dumbly wondered if that as well had left a print on the ground. Looking up, you set your eyes upon a disgruntled, big man, whose cheeks were red and his eyes were intently focused on his clasped hands. Interesting, he hadn’t used his hands to soften the blow. 

His brown hair was pushed back away from his forehead, held back by a pair of black-rimmed sunglasses, a tad skew due to the collision. Once he checked that whatever he was holding was safe, he rose his eyes and a surprised, then mortified, look took over his face. 

“Oh my God! I am so sorry!” He tried standing up from his sitting position to no avail, only managing to raise to his knees to fall on his behind again. Laughing under your breath, you jumped up and, holding him up by his elbow, you managed to help him stand. He was way taller than he looked. 

“What had you so distracted that you had to attack my pebble?” You asked, hands held behind your back, folding yourself a little at the waist so you could meet the eyes of this gentle giant that looked to all intents and purposes set on not allowing it. 

Seeming to come to a decision, the man walked next to you and, standing in a way that his frame obscured the sun from bothering you, and unclasped his hands. On his big palm, among specs of sand and trying to hide behind your pebble, was a small white crab, claws and shell trying in vain to camouflage with the rock.

“I have been out here more than an hour and this is the first friend I’ve found,” said the man, caressing the fragile creature with the pad of his index finger. “I should have guessed they’d be hiding closer to the rocks…”

“Look!” You said as the crab left behind the rock and started to chase the man’s fingers with its gaping claws. “It has little blue spots around the eyes!”

Your voice managed to distract him and his little friend pinched one of his fingers. The man let out a yelp and his face fell as soon as the creature escaped his hands and buried itself back under the sand.

Disappointment clear in his face, you offered him a small smile as his head went back and forth. Giving up, he opened his hand and offered you your little souvenir. You could have just taken the rock and gone back to your holiday, forgotten all about this tall man with a cute eagerness for finding crabs in some lost beach. But in the spirit of adventure and maybe something else, you closed his fist around the pebble, grabbed his wrist and squatted down on the sand. Looking at you from above with a confused expression, his pouting a little, he looked just the picture of a lost child.

“The name’s Y/N,” you told him, “what are you doing still standing? Come on, stranger! We have to find Nemo!”

With a chuckle that shook him out of his confusion, he crouched down next to you, a smile stretching his lips and creating beautiful deep dimples on both sides of his mouth. 

“I’m Namjoon,” he told you, never taking his eyes away from you, “isn’t Nemo the name of a fish already, by the way?”

“Well then, Namjoon,” you answered, “it is time we find Nemo the Crab, don’t you think? You think you’ll have time?” Your question wasn’t only about crab-finding schedules and you both knew it. Well, in the spirit of adventure, there was nothing wrong with enjoying your holiday right?

“I have all the time in the world,” his smile expanded, “to find Nemo the Crab.”

[elenamiria]

Beating the Heat

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi X Reader

Obi-wan and you have been best friends for ages. The constant banter and perhaps not so innocent flirting between the two has led to feelings on your half and you hope Obi-wan reciprocates. It all comes to a head on one scorching day at the Jedi Temple, where your sunbathing leads to a loss of control from a certain fellow padawan.

Word count: 2.67k

Warnings: Light smut, masturbation, handjob, fluff, gn reader (no specific body parts discussed), could be interpreted as sub!obi Talk of force signatures in a way that probably isn’t cannon (just in case that bugs anyone)

This is my first fic that I’ve ever posted (and also my first smut) so please be kind! I picture this set several years before Phantom Menace, placing Obi-wan around 20 to 21 and reader at the same age.  This was inspired by a thot that I brought up to @milleniumvalcon​ one day and then my hand slipped, oops. It was also inspired by this ask about catching obi (sith and jedi) masturbating - once again by the amazing Val! And a big thank you to @hxldmxdxwn​ for being so encouraging to me when I mentioned I was thinking about posting my writing!

Enjoy!

It was hot. It was so hot you had begged your master to let you take the day off from training, you suspected they had relented out of annoyance more than kindness but either way it suited you. This left you with the day free but with nothing to do. You had sought out Obi-Wan, your fellow padawan and object of your hidden affections, but he was practicing with Qui-Gon Jinn. When he saw you step into the training room he paused before finishing the practice fight they were in the middle of, he jogged over to you after muttering a quick “excuse me” to his master. 

Both Jedi had discarded their robe and tunics and you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, looking Obi up and down, as he jogged towards you. A sheen of sweat coated his body highlighting every muscle, you swallowed deeply trying to compose yourself before Obi-wan, or even worse Qui-Gon, noticed your improper thoughts. As he reached you a cocky smirk covered his face, oh he had definitely noticed, and he couldn’t help but quip “What, see something you like?” You felt your face grow warm but forced yourself to roll your eyes scoffing “You wish Kenobi”.  His smile only grew, you both loved your banter, he quirked an eyebrow - “then perhaps you were eyeing up the other Jedi present? I didn’t realize Master Qui-gon was your type, I can put in a good word if you’d like”. Your jaw dropped slightly before you playfully glared and shoved him, maker when had his arm gotten so big, shaking your head in exasperation. “No I came to see whenever you’d be done with training. My master gave me the day off, I figured we could find something to do.” You smiled up at him before hastily adding on “I mean if you would want to spend time together” suddenly shy. A warm smile covered Obi’s face as he nodded, reassuring you.

“I’d love to. We’re almost done here, Master Jinn had us start very early to beat the heat today. Where should I find you?”

“I was going to our garden to relax for a bit, meet me there? We can get lunch if you’d like.”

“Of course, I’ll meet you there soon” Obi replied with a smooth wink before jogging back over to his master, eager for training to be over.

You smiled before heading off, your destination was what the two of you had decided was your garden. You had found it one day while wandering the large temple - it was a tiny thing, tucked in a corner that seemed nearly abandoned, you had only come upon other Jedi using it once or twice in the many years you two had been going there. You felt confident that it would be a great place to relax and perhaps remove your outer layers to sunbathe. As you reached the garden you were pleased that it was indeed empty today. You headed to the center of the garden, laying your robe down, you quickly stripped of your other garments until you were left in just your underclothes. You stretched out on your robe sighing contentedly as you soaked in the bright Coruscant sun. Closing your eyes you relaxed, allowing yourself to fall into an easy meditative state.

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed before you felt another presence start to approach you, in your state it was easy to identify Obi-Wan’s force signature. You roused yourself by allowing your body to stretch, chest arching toward the sky, before settling again. Your eyes were still shut, not wanting to blind yourself just yet, but you knew Obi was standing at the entrance to the garden. Not only was his force signature bright and close but you swore you had heard footsteps as well as a noise you couldn’t quite place (perhaps a gasping sort of noise). A smirk crawled over your lips as you spotted your chance to use his own words against him, “See something you like, Obi-wan?”

You purposely allowed your words to come out a bit breathy and sweet. Giggling lightly you waited for a smart quip back or for him to approach. When neither happened you cracked your eyes open and used your forearms to prop yourself up. Blinking rapidly to try to regain your sight you called out his name again before looking around, he was nowhere to be found. You sat up fully now and frowned lightly, you were positive he had been there. Debating for a moment longer you decided to try to reach out in order to find him through the force. Inhaling deeply your eyes slid shut and you stretched your own signature out searching for him, you could see that he had definitely been to the garden and you traced his path to his quarters. Gently you brushed your signature against his before shooting out of your brief meditation, feeling like you had been burned. His signature was burning white hot and before you had pulled back suddenly it almost felt like his signature was desperately trying to intertwine with yours, you had never felt it like that before and you grew concerned. Hastily you threw on your clothes before heading to Obi’s quarters.

Unknown to you Obi-Wan Kenobi had come to the garden. The last thing he had expected was to see you in such little clothing, he had a witty line to announce his entrance ready to go but the second he laid eyes on your body gleaming in the sun all sense left his head. He was fairly certain he choked, his eyes trailed down your body and he became acutely aware of all the blood rushing to his lower half. You then shifted, arching to the sky, and he had to strangle a groan that worked its way to his throat. He became very aware of the thoughts running through his head - his hands running down your body before pulling your hips harshly to meet his as he pressed into you, his mouth at your throat marking it as you bounced in his lap, you arched up just like you were as he buried his face in between your legs. Stumbling backwards he suddenly felt very overwhelmed, he needed to leave before he did something rash, you were too important to him and he didn’t want to put your relationship at risk. Plus the problem he was experiencing wasn’t one he would be able to easily hide, his cock was straining noticeably against his pants. Letting out a small whine he practically ran to his room, hoping he wouldn’t be stopped by anyone. Reaching his room he rushed in barely making it a few steps into his room before sinking to his knees the second his door closed. Tearing his pants open he moaned quietly as he wrapped a hand around his hard cock, his eyes closed as he pictured you sensually sprawled out below him. His hips bucked hard as he felt something gently envelope him for a second, it had felt like you were pressed against him, and he whined his mind wildly chasing the feeling. Starting a firm pace your name continuously fell from his lips, he was trying to keep it down but it was becoming increasingly difficult. His pace grew quicker as he imagined you moaning his name out, it sounded so real and he was so close.

“Obi?” You called out again as you knocked for a second time. You bit your lip hard as you eyed the keypad, he had given you the codes and you debated whether to enter. You could hear noises coming from within but couldn’t quite discern what they were though you had a feeling what his quiet gasps were and your whole body burned. A warm feeling settled in between your legs - it was like you had not pictured Obi-wan that way before. You knew very well what you were about to do could change your relationship forever but you knew you would go mad if you two danced around each other any longer, plus you could swear that you heard his voice calling out your name. Saying a silently prayer you lightly punched in the code. The door slid open and you stepped in. You weren’t expecting him to be right there in front of you, his back was to you and his whole body was strained tight. One of his hands had been rapidly moving, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening, but froze when he heard the door. Letting out a small gasp that turned into a weak moan you rapidly spun back around to the door, all of your courage fleeing your body. Your hand hovered over the button to open the door when you heard a strangled guttural cry of your name followed by a soft “please”. You inhaled shakily, your whole body heating up before turning. You looked him up and down again as you slowly shed your robe. Your hands started pulling your tunic off, fumbling slightly, as you murmured “Would you like some help Obi?”

Your head tilted and a smirk reached your mouth as a groaned yes made its way to you. Shedding your tunic fully you knelt behind him, “are you sure?” You asked as your hands landed on both of his shoulders. He nodded rapidly as a whimper left his mouth at your touch. You let your hands slide down the front of his body, your chest pressing into his back. Your left hand gently removed his as your right wrapped firmly around his cock. Stroking it gently you paused at the head spreading some of his precum around the tip with your thumb. A beautiful moan left his mouth and his head leaned back resting on your shoulder. Switching hands for just a moment you gathered spit in your mouth and spread it on your hand. You brought it back to his length and gripped it tightly before staring a quick pace. He was heavy and hot in your hand and the perfect size to make your mouth water, blinking a few times you swallowed deeply letting out a hot breath against Obi’s neck. Your other hand retreated to his tunic, finding the clasps holding it together and hastily pulling it off his body. Obi-Wan was panting at this point your name falling from his lips in praise, both of you let out loud whimpers as you pressed your bare skin together. You turned your head to stare at him, noticing how his mouth fell open as you increased your pace and started kissing his neck, softly sucking in places that seemed particularly sensitive. You gently bit the junction of his neck and shoulders, he let out a loud gasp at that hips raising wildly.

“Please, please my love I’m so close” He managed to whimper out, hips continuing to buck. You picked up the pace of your right hand, your left coming up to gently push his head off your shoulder and then nudging his jaw to turn towards you. He looked a mess - light sheen of sweat on his brow, his mouth still panting and parted slightly, eyes glazed in pleasure yet still focused on you. You found yourself consumed with pleasure too and a moan of his name loudly fell from your lips, that was all he needed to fall of the edge into his orgasm. A load groan started to rise in his throat and before it could fully escape you were pressing your lips to his. His hips bucked as his load spilled over your hand, your kiss stifled both of your noises as you couldn’t help but let out a desperate whine at the feeling. You continued slowly pumping as he rode out his orgasm and when it became too overstimulating for him he gently pulled your hand away by your elbow.

You two continued the clumsy, it was a first for both of you, yet passionate kiss for a moment longer. A stupid smile covered your face as you pulled back softly and he out let a small incredulous laugh. Neither of you moved for a moment content to bask in bliss. Obi-Wan was the first to move, he pressed his forehead to yours nuzzling his nose against yours softly before pressing a kiss quickly to your lips. This time it was you letting out a small laugh as you said “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this”.

He pulled away slightly, a shocked look coming across his face, “You have?” he questioned. You nodded shyly before you pulled away getting ready to stand up, you caught sight of your hand coated in his cum and it was your turn for a shocked expression to cover your face. Obi followed your eye-line and a bright blush covered his face as he hastily stood “I-I’m so sorry let me get you something to uh- just give me a minute” he managed to stutter out as he quickly disappeared into his refresher.

He returned quickly, having cleaned off and situated himself back into his pants, with a spare towel and gently took your hand cleaning you. You watched him with a small smile, he was so careful while holding you, and you felt your heart skip a beat when he bashfully smiled back at you. He then gently pulled you to your feet,tossing the towel off to the side, and couldn’t help his eyes roaming your upper half. You shifted nervously “I hope you don’t mind I removed your tunic, I got so caught up in the moment and I just wanted to feel your skin against mine”.

A brilliant smile lit up his face and his hands hovered over your bare waist, waiting for your approval which you gave with a brief nod, before settling his warm hands on you. He gently squeezed you before pulling you closer, your hands rising to rest on his firm chest, his hands sliding to your back exploring every inch he could.

“My dear it is more than alright” he suddenly grew serious, his blue eyes meeting yours “I, um, I hope you know that I don’t want this, er rather us, to be a one time thing. I-uh” he fumbled with his words for a moment before he collected himself. “I’m yours, if you’ll have me, and I hope you’ll be mine.” His voice trembled as he held you just a little tighter, before anxiously continuing “I know the code prevents this kind of thing but I don’t think I could survive going back to just friends. I do-” you cut off his nervous rambling with a breathy yes.

A more confident yes left your mouth as you nodded “Of course I’m yours Obi, I think I always have been” You stammered out a beautiful smile covering your face. Obi-wan simply couldn’t help himself as he pulled you closer and lifted you clean off the floor in a quick spin, both of you laughing in pure joy. He gently let you slide back to the floor before capturing your lips in another kiss. Both of you were grinning like idiots now and when he pulled away a gentle laugh left your lips, your hand reached up to play with his padawan braid. Teasing you said “I do hope you plan on helping me out later, because after that I’m feeling much too hot for a day like today” Obi-wan couldn’t help but sputter at your forwardness His face lighting up bright red. Laughing at the adorable face he was making you gently tugged on his braid, smile quirking into a smirk - “c’mon let’s go get lunch, I’m starving”. You moved away to toss him his tunic as you tugged yours back on. At this Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed to snap out of his state of shock in order to dress and when you turned to face him again his smirk was back in full force. “Darling I think that’s a wonderful idea,” he started as he winked “the sooner we eat the sooner I get dessert”

[tendertenebrosity]

Illiam and Helis on the road! Close sequel to here and here.  Masterpost for these characters is here. Mostly just some conversation and worldbuilding today; stay tuned for part 2!

Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @doglover82; @top-hat-aye; @burtlederp; @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi   @thesleepysnapdragon @whump-cravings

Helis knew, from the conversations they had overheard at Illiam’s heel, that today they would pass into the south of Rosdan, the part the Toraldan army hadn’t taken yet. If they hadn’t, they probably wouldn’t have been able to guess; the countryside was the same as it had been for the past few days. Heavily forested hills, a dirt road that wound side-to-side between their peaks like the track made by a snake. The ground was rocky, any snow long since trodden into black sludge peppered liberally with gravel. Helis had an impressive bruise on the underside of their foot from trying to make their way through it, and the little downy feathers on their ankles hadn’t been either white or downy in days.  

“We have quite a large ravine to cross next,”  Illiam commented. “The town is just over the bridge; we should be able to see both once we’re around this next bend in the road.”

Helis made a wordless hum of acknowledgment. They wouldn’t be stopping for the night in this town; they might pause so that people could mill about, make a mess and maybe have another urgent, terse meeting. Or they might not. Helis supposed they’d be glad for a chance to stretch their legs.

The thick pine forest on some of these hills was a lot like the country that they’d spent a few weeks camping in with Reed. Had it been this tiring, going up and down the hills? Not for Helis, but maybe for Reed it had been. He’d never complained.

“I built some bridges, you know,” Illiam remarked.  

Helis blinked, roused from their reverie. “What?”

“Bridges. You know, big structures, usually made of wood or stone, they allow you to get over bodies of water… ”

Helis hunched their shoulders. Yes, very funny. “You… built bridges? Why?” It wasn’t something they’d ever considered him doing. It seemed… beneath him, or at least that he ought to think it was beneath him. They didn’t remember him ever showing the slightest interest in that kind of thing before.

“It’s the kind of thing I’ve been working on, the last few years,” Illiam explained. “Not just bridges, but… large engineering work. Repairing dams, roads. You usually do that with magic in Crestmead, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” Helis said. Their friend Diamand had taken a job in that direction; another scholarship student, like them, he’d chosen to go into government service in construction. “It’s usually done with teams of mages…”

“It’s not been used much here,” Illiam said. “Most things like that in the North are built the old-fashioned way. Bricks and mortar and a lot of peasants with shovels. It can be difficult and dangerous work, not to mention slow. I had seen a lot of… interesting things done in the South, and I wanted to try and replicate them. Not just structures, either - I still wonder if I could get some of your irrigation and wind shelter techniques to work with our farms.” He paused. “You came from a farm, didn’t you?”

“Yeees…” Helis wasn’t sure whether to be surprised he remembered, or brace themself for him to say something derogatory. “We didn’t use any magic, though. I think you’re talking about bigger places than ours…”

He barely seemed to be listening. “I imagine the climate to the south is better, so you probably didn’t need much help. The land to the west of our holdings is harsh, and crop failures are common. It would make a big difference if I could increase yield even a little bit.” He sighed. “Bridges proved easier, at least to start with. Of course, I was somewhat hampered by the fact that, as you say, I don’t have a trained team. I only have myself. So a lot of the techniques needed… adjusting.”

Despite themselves, Helis found themself a little interested. “That’s a bit more than just an ‘adjustment’,” they said. “You’re trying to do the work of, what - four to six people by yourself?”

“Mm,” he said, dismissive.

“That sounds… dangerous,” Helis said. They’d had to design the kind of spells Illiam was talking about as part of their course; they couldn’t imagine trying to handle that much magic, in that many different moving parts, at once. It was overambitious to the point of being irresponsible.

Then again, in light of his current project, they shouldn’t be surprised.

“Oh, maybe if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Illiam said, airily. They could practically picture the smug tilt of his chin as he said it. “I had it down pretty well by the third attempt. Besides, it was unavoidable. Even if I’d managed to get four or five mages together, there’s no guarantee they’d have been able to work together in that way. It’s not a common skill here.”

Helis’ brow wrinkled. “But… I’ve seen other mages here, in the army ranks.” Mostly men, a scattering of women, their uniform marked out with a red scarf or sash or hat. The common soldiers deferred to them, but nowhere near as much as they did to Illiam. Helis had seem them performing heat spells, wind spells, stick-fast spells - the kinds of minor workings any large group of people needed.  Are they mages or not? they wanted to ask. Why ‘if’ you get four or five people? Aren’t they trained properly?

He hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, but the… culture, I suppose you’d say… amongst mages is different here. Much less collaborative. Much less standardised. A Northern sorceror works alone, or maybe with an apprentice or two if they’re inclined to that sort of thing.”

“Oh.”

“There’s nothing like the Academy here, or even the sort of smaller schools that teach people to read and write in Crestmead,” Illiam explained. “I learned my Northern magic from my master, Karlin, who learned it from his, and so on. I started when I was nine - that’s pretty normal. He didn’t have a second apprentice while teaching me, but I understand he often did. Some masters can get a bit… stingy, paranoid. They don’t like to share their knowledge too freely. Karlin was never like that.”

“Oh. You… always did seem like you knew a bit already, in the first semester,” Helis admitted.

Illiam was silent, just a beat longer than usual. “You could say that,” he said. “You know, I - ”

He cut himself off - the hands that had been fairly slack on the reins in front of Helis were suddenly moving, pulling the horse up to a sudden stop.

They had just rounded the curve of the hillside. As Illiam had said, they could look down and see the bridge - miles ahead of them yet, a squat and sturdy structure made from the same grey stone as the cliffs it straddled. The riverbed was a long way down.

They couldn’t see much of the town, though, because it and the forest to the east were obscured by a thick dark plume of smoke.

The soldiers in front of them were clogging the road, the whole unit that had been ahead of Illiam’s horse, pulled to an unplanned halt. Raised voices and curses reached Helis’ ears; people were pointing at the smoke, barking orders, shoving the people ahead or behind them.

“This town was supposed to be secured!” someone was insisting, harsh and strident. “Lord Garnier sent - ”

As the army milled, disorganised, there was a sharp whistle, thinned out by distance and followed by a crack. The light that flashed in the forest beyond the town was tinged pale blue, obviously magical in origin. People in the army flinched and swore as more clouds of dust and smoke rose up. As they watched, aghast, a wedge of stone split away from the cliff face and tumbled down into the ravine with a crash.

Illiam hissed wordlessly under his breath, and tapped Helis - more of a shove, really - on the shoulder.

"You’re getting off,” he said abruptly.

“What?”

“Get off the horse, lackwit, move!”

Helis let go of their grip on the saddle and drew their knees up slightly, uncertain of what to do next. Illiam lifted them unceremoniously around the waist, and they swung their leg awkwardly over the horse’s neck. They made it to the ground in an awkward, flapping fall, their legs nearly giving way under them.

The horse stamped and sidled back and forth, rolling one dark eye as Helis stumbled back. Illiam gathered up his reins. He didn’t even look down at Helis.

“Go back and wait with the rest of the camp followers,” he said, his voice raised over the commotion. “Do not come and find me. Do not cause problems.”

He kicked the horse into motion. Helis shielded their eyes from the dirt he threw up; they could hear him yelling something at the soldiers down the slope. By the time they had collected themself, the crowd of soldiers had parted to allow Illiam and his horse to canter down the hill in the direction of the smoking town.

“Well, now what?” Helis asked aloud, to nobody in particular. They watched the figure of Illiam and his horse, dramatic black cloak flapping, until it was out of sight. Helis didn’t know much about war magic. But they had a hazy, uneasy idea how much damage a single magic-user could wreak against an undefended force. Was he going to fight? Or did he think the battle needed him in command? It still seemed unbelievable to Helis, that men twice their age, generals and leaders, actually took orders from Illiam, who wasn’t any older than Helis themself.

The crowd of soldiers was forming up into some kind of order in his wake, the person who’d been yelling about Lord Garnier unloading a series of profanities and insults on everybody in earshot.

The wagons and the rest of the army had been following Illiam and the advance party, much slower on the hilly ground. Helis had no idea how far away they might be.

They sighed, picked a rock out from between their toes, and set off back the way they’d come.

[omgkalyppso]

It's 1 AM — happy belated birthday Owain! I wrote some owainigo / laslodin ? Intended as being able to be read as an S support for Laslow and Odin. Written to recognize Inigo as bisexual and polyamorous and Owain as a trans man. Vague about Owain's sexuality because he currently has his sights on Inigo only.

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It had been a long time since Laslow had felt like dancing; even recently, he’d wondered if he’d ever want to again, when they’d fallen into Valla and all hope had seemed lost. Yet when Xander had ordered he and Peri enjoy themselves this eve, he’d had a week for his dancer’s garb to be refitted — the clothes he’d arrived in — now matching a soldier’s girth and shoulders. He was not the spritely lad of years past, and wondered whether he looked like a fool.

In the least, the steps were as familiar as breathing, and the melody of the drums was known to his heart, even if the tune wasn’t the same.

His mother — his birth mother, whom he’d only known for such a short time, so much of her dancing was made for battle: relief in victory, love in anticipation, heart in loss. She remembered music of happier times, but those dances hadn’t translated into his tiny feet, so used to the sound of war drums.

He found his dancing riled the spirits of some, who watched or tapped a foot, mimicking a step or two, and Laslow felt further from them than he ever had before.

They were going home. He was going home.

This crowd would only be a memory.

.

He wondered where he would find himself: would it really be the world left in relative peace where Grima lay sleeping? Or would his intent send him spiraling far and away to the land of memory, nightmares and blight? Would Owain even wish to leave Nohr? It suited Odin Dark so naturally. He seemed happier as a mage, and through magic, his own and discovered, Owain had even managed to mold his chest into a form that brought him joy and comfort.

Inigo wondered whether Owain would hold any apprehension in sharing this version of himself with old friends and family.

Some would say Owain had no understanding of shame or embarrassment, but they’d never read his stories aloud, or seen him as a young bashful man who knew little and less of how to present himself. Still, Owain had grown, had carved himself and the world around him in ways that had secured their victories as of late.

Inigo knew that it was his own insecurities over returning that truly alarmed him.

Meanwhile Severa knew what she wanted. She always had. Her heart might be large enough to reserve pieces for all who showed her kindness and some manner of discipline, but she could never stay away from Morgan and her parents. Her home was known and waiting.

.

The song ended and he shared a soft laugh with his liege, a man whose trust and generosity he was on the cusp of betraying.

.

Public celebrations were a favorite of Owain’s. He had learned to handle a crowd, and could often find a group or three to regale with tales of victory, honor and suspense. There were jeers at times, but less when the people were joyous and relieved. Perhaps not all understood the challenges that had weighed upon their liege lords and borders, or their fabric of reality, but they knew strife, and wanted to believe it could be felled by a hero — why shouldn’t he be that.

He’d been shouting over the music for so long, that he’d nearly missed Elise’s voice marveling excitedly, “Hey! Did you know about this? He told me his dancing was a secret.”

While the Xander hushed his sister and they chittered on in silence, Odin Dark also fumbled in his tale, glancing, for a moment, to where Laslow spun daggered discs on his wrists. Owain might have trailed off entirely, and taken the time to watch as much of the performance as possible, whether to jeer or jest or compliment, but Odin had an audience, people who would think him missing or worse in the weeks to come, and so he dove back into an embellishment of the beasts they had defeated. He could watch Inigo dance again. He was sure of it.

.

The tents were relatively empty when the witching hour came to pass. The masses had retreated to the castles and campgrounds, manor houses and taverns where guests and guards were making due. A flutist was speaking with Laslow, a dancer by his side, correcting his posture, of all things. Owain sat on the edge of a fountain, and watched until his friend noticed, as Laslow turned away, red in his cheeks and upon his neck. He stopped their performance swiftly, seemingly assuring the dancer that he would remember to practice. It put a pinch in Owain’s brow, mournful that he’d spurred his friend toward another broken promise.

“You were watching then?” asked Laslow, spinning a ribbing at his side through his hoops so that they would lay at his hip, jingling.

“Even those whose ears I captivated with tales from the saga of Odin Dark, could look nowhere else!” He chuckled as Laslow sat by his side, shifting slightly, as the costume left little protection against the cool damp stone of the fountain. “If only you’d told me, we might have coordinated our performance!”

“I’d make a poor archrival then,” Laslow teased. “If I weren’t stealing your audience.” He stretched, and Odin watched how the bulge of his belly and triceps marked Laslow for his latest manner of fighting — reserved, sturdy, and strong. “And still, not one enraptured lady to request an encore, nor a single suitor to waylay my evening with a flower or three.”

“Only me,” Odin said mournfully, shaking his head.

“Only you,” Laslow agreed, smirking, and he saw how tired Owain was then, and hoped it was his performance, regaling the public with magic and mystery, but he knew it was the war, the ever present ones they’d fought through. He wondered if he would ever feel so comfortable as to compliment his friend, the growing wrinkles at his eyes, the stubble of his beard, the mouthwatering line of muscle revealed by his boastful outfit. He licked his lips. “My vexatious tormentor. Are you headed to sleep?”

Owain saw that the question had two answers. The first was an affirmative, though he would go to his room and stare at the ceiling, perhaps retreat to the library and spend his last few hours in this realm reading more and more of foreign magic as their time grew short. The second was a negative, and perhaps he and Laslow could find somewhere that drink still flowed, and they could pretend to lose themselves in tankards while he made a show of failing to find them dates and he either made a friend of the barman or annoyed him until they were both ejected into the night. However, something inside him overflowed, and Owain found himself seeking to fight the beasts of trepidation and consideration — perhaps he had already won, and it was their blood that had filled him with their ferocious candor as he asked, “Do you know I’m in love with you?”

Laslow’s eyes blinked wide, lashes casting a flickering shadow across his cheekbones.

“Owa—Odin,” he objected. “You can’t—” He huffed, frustrated, taking to his feet. “We fight against each other with every step.” He hid his eyes in his hands and then slowly adjusted his head as he admitted aloud, “I fight against commitment with every breath.”

“When do we not fight towards a common goal — against the forces of darkness, together?” Owain asked with a small smile, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the insides of his spread knees. “My confession need not change anything between us, it certainly doesn’t mean to change anything about you. My affection has grown even as you’ve found joy and rejection with your strings of lovers. And I’ve found that I can love you — that I do,” he swallowed, “love you. I’m saying it too much now.”

“There is nothing consistent in our lives,” Inigo said, sad and distressed. He wrapped his right arm around himself, squeezing at a shoulder, too muscled to feel right going back into his old life, too scarred to hope that wherever they found themselves in two days time that there would be the peace and family he’d hoped for. “I have gone days feeling as though everything around me is temporary, and others believing that this is what is real and it is me who doesn’t belong. We nearly failed. We—”

He hesitated as Owain stood before him, reaching out carefully to take hold of either of his elbows.

“We didn’t,” Owain said, calm and sure.

Time passed. Neither man could say how much. Patiently, Owain did not force an embrace, but he did rest his temple against Inigo’s, rocking his face towards him as he whispered, “And you’ve had some consistencies in your life. And me in mine.”

He waited longer, breathing deeply while his friend calmed in his arms, and then Inigo was lifting his left hand up to Owain’s hip and the mage smiled, letting his hands creep around the small of Inigo’s back, locking them together. “If I declared that I would dedicate my life to you, very little would change … and I think that’s very telling.”

“I feel good, with you,” Inigo murmured, tucking his face into the curve of Owain’s neck, “but my trysts don’t last and you—” he bit his lips, and as they rolled back into place he felt them pout against Owain’s skin, almost a kiss, “you’re too important for me to risk in a bout of bad behavior.”

Owain snickered. “Are you asking me to make sure you don’t grow bored? I think no matter what awaits us after tomorrow, I can promise it will be interesting.” He tossed his head back, and smiled wider as Inigo admired him; it was a wonderfully new feeling. “Do you think Odin Dark would settle for less? That the tale of the Avengers of Righteous Justice would end here?”

“Avengers?” Inigo repeated, pulling away from the embrace.

“I don’t forget my friends,” Owain assured him, but Inigo continued.

“And, really, I rather hoped that my tale might end. In some manner of the word… I want to rest. I want to feel the relief that these people felt, that our parents felt when their journey was over. To find a stage to dance upon, perhaps a student to apprentice while I’m still young enough to perform.”

“Then we will find it,” Owain said with conviction, his hands on Inigo’s shoulders. “A place where Selena can be a tired old general, or an extension of nobility, where our friends are close, and our families closer still, and where I study all the magic that has ever beset us with worry — that of gods, and dragons, and travel between realms—”

“Is this why you sought to be a mage?” Inigo balked, holding the dips at Owain’s elbows.

“All to keep us safe,” Owain said cryptically, blue eyes flickering with withheld words. “I will work tirelessly to make that peaceful realm you dream of, friend.”

“I can’t expect you to vanquish evil on your own,” Inigo said, a measure of wonder on his face. A puff of air passed his lips, joy and shock and hope twisting his lips first in a frown and then in a smile. “Very well then. Together, this time. We’ll start this tale together, as we’ve always been.”

“Then—?” Owain prompted, hopeful.

“Of course,” Inigo assured him, pulling himself into Owain’s space again, this time to plant a kiss on his warm lips. “I’ve loved you too. You need only look to your side — if you truly wish to take me as I am … then you will always find me here.”

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Revelation

note: Chris Cuomo really is the only person who has the power to make me drop everything and write smut in the middle of the day just bc of one sentence he said on air (I’m obv talking about this) and I hate him a little bit for it (jk I don’t)

words: 1.4 k

warning: swearing (as usual), smut, daddy kink (obv)

Enjoy and sorry for typos and grammar, this came right out of my stupid brain

“I just don’t know what to do! “you whined, throwing up your hands in exasperation.

The decision about whether or not you should take this once-in-a-lifetime job offer had you racking your brain for the last two weeks. You loved the place you were working at right now, it was familiar and safe, the first job you took right out of college. But you were in a dead end now, and this new opportunity meant that you would be able to climb a gigantic step up the career letter, the better salary was also a huge plus.

But with that came a lot of added responsibility, the possibility of long hours and a whole new field of work you had little experience in. The new firm was expecting your decision the next day, and you were freaking out.

You had never been the type of person to just take a leap of faith, you were a careful planner and loved talking things through over and over again before making a decision.

So you talked to the person you trusted most, you boyfriend Chris. He was a couple of years older than you, meaning that he had considerably more career and overall life experience. When you addressed the topic, he went out of his way to help you. You made lists, had hour-long discussions about the pros, cons and how it would influence the life you had together. Chris was definitely in favor of you taking the new job.

“A change of career paths is a normal thing to do, this position would grant you so much more creative space and room to grow professionally. Your current firm is great, but there is nothing left for you to aim for there. You’re only 30, you’re too young to just settle for a job without persepective.” He said, voice already slightly annoyed. You have been talking about this for two weeks now, always going back and forth, and he was starting to get fed up with the topic.

“You’re right, but I’m just so afraid. It’s so much responsibility, and I’ve never worked for a magazine like that before. What if they find out I’m completely useless at writing about fashion, and then I’ll be fired?”

“Babe, they offered you the position. That means they’ve seen your work, and they like it. They want you. Trust me, those changes are necessary. It was such a big risk for me to abandon law and go into journalism instead but look where it got me. If I hadn’t taken that step, maybe I would sit in some law firm now, but I would definitely not be happy. And even as a journalist, I had to take several turns and make changes to get where I am now. It’s part of the journey.”

“I know.” You whined. You had heard all those arguments before, but you just couldn’t make up your mind. Turning to Chris, you pouted a bit and spoke. “I hate making decisions, why can’t you just decide for me.” Hearing that, Chris just shook his head, looking really frustrated now.

“For God’s sake, Y/N, don’t force making that decision on me. I can’t do that for you. I’m not your daddy.”

It was like your brain suddenly decided to completely shut down, the words Chris just said echoing in your head over and over again. You felt a spike of arousal between your legs, clenching them together as you tried to stifle a groan.

“Say that again.” You whispered in a breathy voice.

Chris was visibly confused.

“What, I said I’m not your daddy, why-“

The needy whimper that escaped your mouth at hearing that word again interrupted him, and he looked at you with the most perplexed expression before it dawned on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He murmured as he realized what you were up to. You could see his eyes darken as he was making his way over to you, grabbing you to pull you close. He leaned down to cup your jaw with his huge hand and tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him.

“What do you want to call me, baby?” he asked, voice a low growl now.

“Daddy.” You whimpered, leaning into the touch of his hand.

“Say it again.” He groaned, and you could feel the evidence of arousal starting to push against your stomach. You moaned at how stained his voice sounded, burying your head into his broad chest. “Daddy, please.”

“Do you want daddy to take care of you, baby?” He asked, and roughly squeezed your ass over the fabric of your yoga pants.

“Yes, please touch me, I need you.” You were a total mess just from the few words Chris had said, your panties already drenched as you grinded against the bulge in his sweats.

His huge hands gripped the hem of your pants and pulled them down together with your panties in one swift motion. Seconds later, his fingers were buried in you, pumping in and out of your pussy while you were clinging to him, your knees almost giving out under you.

“Good girl, you’re so wet for daddy.” Chris muttered, his thumb brushing over your clit before harshly pressing down. You could swear that you saw stars for a second as a powerful orgasm ripped through you, making you coat Chris fingers with your arousal.

You collapsed against him, and he picked you up, carrying you over to the couch. He carefully sat you down before quicky pulling down his own pants. His cock sprung free, he was already hard, clearly enjoying this as much as you did.

Chris sat down on the couch and beckoned you over with his finger.

“Come here, baby, you know what to do.” he said, and the deep, wanton tone of his voice would’ve make you do literally anything.

You crawled over to him, climbing on his lap before slowly lowering yourself onto his cock. You cried out at the feeling of being filled like this as you slowly took every inch of him until he was fully settled inside of you.

“Shit, Y/N, you feel so perfect around my cock.” Chris pressed out through clenched teeth, his hands gripping your tights so hard he was definetly leaving marks.

"Move for me, baby.” He groaned, delivering a sharp smack to your ass.

You started bouncing up and down on his cock, whimpering every time you sunk back down and felt him stretching you all over again. The friction was delicious, but you needed more.

"Daddy.” You whimpered. “Fuck me, please. I need more.” For a second, it surprised you how needy your voice was sounding, but you were beyond caring.

With a growl, Chris grabbed your tights and started pushing you up and down on his cock, snapping up his hips to deepen his thrusts. He was handling you like you weighted next to nothing and seeing him use his strength that way turned you on beyond measure. You threw your head back, totally lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He moaned, “such a good girl for me.”

Hearing those words was like a catalyst, and when Chris roughly pressed you down onto his cock, your climax hit you out of nowhere, making you tremble and shudder as you came. Seeing you falling apart like that pushed him over the edge as well, his iron like grip holding you down as he spent himself deep inside of you with a shout.

For a moment, no one was speaking as you slowly collected yourselves again.

“Wow, that was crazy.” You exclaimed after catching your breath.

“Yeah, I have no idea where that came from.” Chris admitted, pushing his sweat-slick hair out of his forehead before kissing you deeply. “But I really liked it.”

“Me too.” You replied. “Maybe it even convinced me to take that job offer. But I think we have to do it again before I can make a definite decision.”

You winked at him and he playfully smacked your ass in return.

“Everything for you, baby.”

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous 

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

       * Warnings: Angst/ mentions of childhood trauma/ mention of domestic abuse, violence/ killing both in- and unintentional/ SMUT/ hand job/ fingering/ mentions of partner-sharing, threesomes/ PTSD/ nightmares

      * Summary: Confessions of sin and of desires.

      * Word Count: ~2200

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE**Part SIX*        *Part SEVEN*  *Part EIGHT*  *Part NINE*  *Part TEN*  *Part ELEVEN*  *Part TWELVE*

 PART THIRTEEN

    The weather on Central turned cool as the months stretched on. You’d realized after the bar that you had perhaps pushed too far, too soon. You’d both retreated back to the sanctuary of your home to regroup. The insidious nightmares continued for you, though nowhere near the level of intensity of the first. You continued to sleep with the lights on, limbs entangled with Ezra’s. You held on to one another, fingers drifting over pulse points, entwining fingers and legs. Two halves of some damaged whole.

    You’d found some solace in cooking. You had gone so long without anything more than the nutritionally dense, yet bland and uninspired nutribars and ration packs that you were desperate to experiment. It was slow going at first, but Ezra was far from selective with what he’d eat. He devoured everything you put in front of him, even burnt and strangely seasoned. He offered profuse compliments that expounded upon his good fortune in having found someone so willing to graciously cook for him. It always made you snort, but you appreciated the fact that he was supportive.

    Ezra had begun writing an autobiography of sorts. You often heard his dictation well into the stretch of your afternoons, his voice animating into flights of vivid imagery and florid, expounding descriptions. He dictated, but he also typed, pecking with the pointer fingers of each hand. You knew that when he was typing he was not to be disturbed. He never said it outright, but you knew that he typed because he could not bring to life the horrors he’d both witnessed and committed, he could not convince himself to speak of things he’d done that would shake the foundations of a kinder man’s moral compass.

    You were not privy to those thoughts. You stayed away, you respected his need to keep that part of him tucked away. You knew it was his way of working through it, of processing the deeds that had led him to what seemed in the reaches of his mind to be an unearned reward. He would tell you in his own time, you did not press or push him as you knew better than most how fragile peace of mind could be. You would allow him any indulgence that may work to keep the dreams away.

    When Ezra had a nightmare, you were most often awoken by a keening whine between clenching teeth. He did not thrash as you did, rather he’d lie beside you as if paralyzed. You had to talk to him to bring him back, coaxing his rigid muscles to loosen with careful, even strokes of your palms across his limbs and torso. 

    “Come back to me, love. You’re not back there. You’re here with me.”

    He would reemerge from his fathomless depths gasping, and reach out to you, winding his limbs through yours as a thistle seeks to weave itself into the wind that caresses it.

    You moved your hand to his chest, felt the frantic pounding beneath his breast. Like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You smoothed your fingers across the expanse of his bare chest, his skin warm and alive, thrumming. Present. And then lower, rubbed against the soft curve of his belly as its panicked heaving incrementally slowed.

    Lower still to the soft curls beneath his navel. Your fingers wove through the hair, teasing the skin with your nails. Ezra huffed, eyes fluttering. He turned his head toward you, knocking his forehead against yours.

    “My Dove….the succubi had their talons hooked into my tattered soul once again, I’m afraid.”

    You leaned forward and kissed him softly. His hitching exhale made its home within your mouth.

    “Is there nothing I can do to take this away, Ezra? Nothing I can offer you that will soothe you?”

    Your finger dipped down, lightly tracing the curve of his half-hard cock. You felt it twitch, followed by Ezra’s sharp intake of breath.

    “The demons that consume the nether regions of my addled mind cannot be placated so easily, Dove. The things I have done, the wretched life I’ve lived would leave you without thought of staying. My greatest fear is your discovering the nefarious deeds of my past, of learning exactly who it is that you lie willingly next to in this bed.”

    “I know who I lie next to, Ezra. I lie next to a man who decided to trust me, who gave me my voice back and showed me that I am worthy of love. That will never change. No matter what sins you’ve committed, I can stop loving you no more than I can keep the moon from waxing and waning.” Your hand encircled his length, rubbing gently. You trailed kisses across his shoulder as he gasped. He reached a hand to cover yours, stilling your actions momentarily. He paused for what seemed an impossibly long beat, seeming to consider his next words to you.

    “When I was a child in Louisiana we were poor. Mama worked three jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. My father was a drunk, shiftless sonofabitch. He put his hands on Mama and on me and Isaiah like clockwork when his life did not go his way. It did not go his way often. One night, he was really workin’ Mama over something awful. Isaiah was out in the shed fiddlin’ with an old transistor we found earlier that day at the salvage yard. I was alone in the house and Father had his hands around Mama’s neck.

    “She was strugglin’ and kicking at his knees, wherever she could reach, but Father wouldn’t stop. When he maneuvered close enough to the root cellar I saw my chance. I ran and I screamed, as loud as I could, and I shoved up against Father with all of the force I could muster. A meager show, to be sure, but Father was well on his way to obliterated by that time. He was just unsteady enough on his feet to topple forward down the steps. I heard his neck snap like a twig and he was dead before he hit the dirt. Mama and I told Isaiah it was an accident. But the truth is, Dovie, I took a life for the first time when I was nine years old.”

    Your hand raised from his groin to cup his cheek, your throat constricting around the lump forming there.

    “You were just a little boy, Ezra, scared for his Mama. You were protecting her. He may have killed her that day, if not for you.”

    His eyes narrowed, his voice thick with emotion. “That day set my path. I knew that I was not fortunate. I hated that I didn’t have what others were so freely given. I was born under a bad star, under an awning of misfortune. I was determined from that day forward to do whatever it took to survive. Kill, maim, steal. I have sold my soul a million times over to ensure my own victory in all my ensuing endeavors.”

    When he paused to collect his thoughts further, your hand drifted back down to his groin. He was now fully erect, and you felt the precum beading at the tip of his cock. He was hot, unbelievably so, and his eyes squeezed shut with a low groan as you swept your thumb through the slick of his crown. His head tipped back into his pillow. He resumed his confessions with a straining voice.

    “Later on, when Isaiah and I began prospecting as a means of finding our fortunes, we often found ourselves on the wrong end of an underhanded deal. We were green, and we were easy marks. We were swindled, robbed and double-crossed more than I care to admit, Dove. It took me a fair amount of time to become just as ruthless as those who would venture to hoodwink myself and my partner. The first time I killed on a job, it was a woman who thought she could bewitch and seduce me. Isaiah had overheard her plans with her partner to satiate my carnal desires before making off with my haul in the dead of night. I saw the knife in her hand as she tried her best to take my cock down her throat. I wrested it from her and used it to penetrate her chest. The third intercostal space of the ribcage houses an anatomical landmark known as Erb’s Point. Her own weapon found its home at the apex of her heart, and she bled out summarily.”

    His breathing was becoming more shallow,  his exhales more explosive as you continued to stroke him as he spoke, reaching every so often lower still to cup and gently roll his balls, which were steadily drawing themselves up, tightening against his tensing body. He canted his hips up into the air as you worked him. He rasped out a stuttering groan and panted up into the ceiling before whipping his head toward you, turning his body onto its side in the bed beside yours.

    “You know by now….”

    (gasp)

    “Isaiah was stabbed and left to die in an alley. It was the work of that woman’s partner. While I…”

    (groan)

    “While a did heartily mourn the loss of my only sibling, I could not….Kevva, girl….I could not begrudge him his need for karmic justice.”

    You brought your palm to your mouth, licked a wide, lascivious stripe from the base of your palm to the tips of your fingers. Ezra’s hand found your hip and squeezed. His eyes were dark, lust-filled and far away. He was lost in his reverie while consumed with your ministrations.

    “Keep going, sweetheart,” you soothed to him, nipping at the junction of his neck and shoulder. “I’ll take it from you. Don’t hold it back..”

    He answered with a full-body shudder, teeth catching his lip. He swelled and twitched and leaked into your eager hand; you knew he was close. He canted his lips to the cusp of your ear, breath hitching, stirring the hair there like chaffs of wheat in summer wind.

    “I found...myself alone and so I was available to partner up with whomever I could find that I deemed beneficial on my various excursions. I...fuck, I….found myself attached to a most open arrangement related to a job I signed up for on the Pug. A married couple, male and female. They….they both took a shine to my proselytizing, indeed they each became in short order equally enamored with...other more physical aspects of my prowesssweetmother….”

    His canting hips began an erratic stutter as your hand squeezed and stroked and twisted around his turgid cock. Your own breath became thick and shallow, a pool of arousal collecting at your center that you soon felt drooling onto the flesh of your inner thighs. You nipped at his jawline as his eyes fluttered shut, eyebrows knit together, mouth open as he embraced the divine sensations you were giving him.

    “Ezra….” you moaned against him. “Ezra, did you fuck them? Tell me how you fucked them…”

    “Always….shit….always together. That was the agreement. His cock in my mouth, her mouth on my cock… oh my gods sweetheart I’m close….he’d eat her pussy while I fucked his tight ass….she...fuck meee...she loved a hard cock in her cunt and in her ass at the same tiiiimme…..oh Jesus Dove FUCK.”

    His hips thrust and stuttered, his balls drawn taut and tight as he spilled into your hand. He buried his face in your neck and moaned, whimpered, as his seed came forth hot and thick to paint your palm and fingers.

    When he finally stilled, you brought the mess he’d made to your lips and made a show of licking every finger before lapping at your palm to clean it thoroughly.

    Ezra’s fingers found themselves parting your soaked, swollen folds as you gasped against his mouth, your tongue licking in to caress his teeth, to tangle with the slick velvet of his own talented instrument.

    “I want that, Ezra,” you groaned against his hot mouth. “I want that with you...I want you to watch me while I lick a cunt. I want to gag on someone else’s cock for you. Perform for you. I want to watch you get fucked in that beautiful ass….” you keened as two of his fingers entered your twitching, weeping hole. Ezra watched your face, eyes wide and mouth open, as he processed the frantic, lust-soaked words that spilled from your lips unabashed in their filth.

    “Is that what you desire my love? To explore the whims of the Satyr, to share the pleasure of other willing bodies with one another?”

    “Fuck yes, Ezra…” you sobbed against his flexing bicep as his fingers and palm worked you toward your own rapid petit mort.

    “Kevva wept, Dove, then you shall have it.”

tag list:  @ifimayhaveaword, @rzrcrst, @absurdthirst, @cinewhore, @hopelikethesun, @yespolkadotkitty, @sin-djarin, @lackofhonor, @din-damn-djarin, @mrpascals, @theocatkov, @thefineandnobleartofavoidance, @hellojustheretolookatmeemees, @cyaredindjarin, @im-like-reallythirsty, @mstgsmy, @goldafterglow, @givemethatgold, @shaqbutt, @sirianisrock, @artemiseamoon, @thatreclusewriter, @scribbledghost, @f0rever15elf, @opheliaelysia, @qveenbvtch, @hdlynn, @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa, @spacegayofficial, @ezraslittlebirdie, @ezrasarm, @ezraslittleblondestreak, @tintinwrites, @kindablackenedsuperhero, @darthadeline, @alexisinorbit, @knittingqueen13, @lueurnotes, @xakilicious, @keeper0fthestars, @huliabitch, @di-kut, @zombieaurora, @corrupt-fvcker, @cryptkeepersoul, @teaofpeach, @thestreamergirl, @frannyzooey, @mndalorians, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @heatherbel, @the-feckless-wonder, @millllenniawrites, @revolution-starter, @melon-eyes 

[bluebellhairpin]

Tears, Fears, and Souvenirs

Levi Ackerman X Reader

A/N: I was having a bath the other day - for the first time in years - and I just kinda sat there and did nothing for a while. It was weird. - Nemo

Warning(s): PTSD. Nudity. Probably more forced self-care than I’ll ever get in my entire life. Scars. Anime/Manga Spoilers. 

Summary: Over time, if they’re bottled long enough - emotions build up. Eventually, people find places where they can run free. Luckily for you, you’re alone when it happens. Unluckily for you, that alone-ness did not last long. 

Listening to: ‘Nothing Left To Say/Rocks’ by Imagine Dragons - ‘I've come too far to see the end now ... But I keep pushing on and on and on and on.’

Masterlist 

After days like today where the hours stretched on, and they day was actually three - but still counted as one, because sleep over safety was not an option - you always waited a couple more hours to make sure everyone was asleep.

Especially the newest cadets - or what was left of them. 

You feigned the idea that you were taking care of them. That you waited up so that those who needed coaxing to go to bed actually had someone to coax them. But it wasn’t just that. The baths were always quiet at 2 am. 

Even though it had taken a while to get the water warmed, as you sunk into the steaming water you knew the wait was worth it. Despite no luxury of scented oils or bubbles, you enjoyed it anyway - just the feeling of everything washing away was good enough. It’d tide you over until - one day - you’d get those things. But that would be a time when you wouldn’t need to take a bath to forget.

After the day - or days - that you just had, you’d need more than one bath to completely process and wash away what happened. 

Miche was dead. Your closest friend, someone who was practically a brother to you, died right behind you as you ran away. 

At the time you were in your soldier mindset. He was a fallen comrade with no hope left. In that he was managing to divert the titans away from you, and that was good. He was supposed to be right behind you, his horse appearing in the distance as yours came right up from another direction. He told you to go, that he’d catch up in no time. 

You, in your soldier mindset, listened to your superior like you were taught.

You, in your soldier mindset, didn’t look back like you were taught. 

But now? Now you thought of how you both should’ve just hopped on your horse and left, his would’ve found him and caught up eventually. At least then you both would be alive. The idea of having to do it again - leave someone behind - sent a nauseating pang straight to your heart.

Your head rested back against the bath rim. You felt them coming, the tears, and you’d let them fall. The very least you could give Miche was free-falling tears - you wouldn’t wipe them away, he fought long and hard enough to have deserved them, you knew that much. 

Of course, he was only the first of many casualties that day. Nanaba was gone too, as well as others - some you thought you trusted but no longer could. Then the countless injuries to stack on top of it all. 

It was such a shame, an age-old war needing the sacrifice of young lives in order to be eventually won or lost. 

Your eyes cast downwards, looking at the fresh cuts, grazes, burns, and bruises littering your skin. They’d add to your skin’s collection of marks rather nicely. You pinched your skin between your fingers, remembering a time when you were better fed and weren’t running around after cadets all day. You didn’t like thinking about that.

With a deep breath in and closed eyes, you pressed your fingers to your nose and slid down into the water, staying there just under the surface until your lungs burned and your knees ached from being bent so. You shot up out of the water, taking in quiet gulps of air and pushed your - now - wet hair out of your face.

“You sloshed.” A voice behind you commented. Your instinct was the freeze up, but you knew that tone, and that voice. Levi. 

“You didn’t knock.” You rested back against the tub, lifting your arms to hang over the sides. You didn’t look back at him. 

He shuffled around behind you, and eventually dropped a chair by your side and towels on the floor to half-effort a clean-up of your spilt bath water. 

You looked over at him, locking your eyes with a pair that was already on yours. His nose almost twitched into a frown. 

“You’ve been crying.” You grunted at that.

“Hange should call you Captain Obvious, not Captain Shorty.” He reached over, tugging your hair in a uncharacteristically soft warning. 

“Don’t go thinking you’re the only one that will miss him, he was everyone’s friend.” 

Levi Ackerman was not a tactful man. 

His eyes raked down your face, and then back up again. He wasn’t sitting close enough to look at anything else other than your arms - only because they were still dripping water onto the towels below. Then he visibly - even so still small - grimaced. 

“You’re washing your hair, right?” he asked and you were going to answer, but then he kept on, “It’s greasy, matted. Downright filthy - did you bathe in the titan’s muck before you came here?” You frowned at him.

“Well, I wasn’t planning to, then you asked and I decided I would, but then you insulted me so I think I won’t. Just to piss you off.” you said, sticking your nose in the air with a sniff as you sunk lower into the water.

“You won’t, fine.” he said, “Let me do it then.” You raised an eye at him, and he rolled his eyes at you. “I’m sitting here with nowhere else to be, and you need your hair washed. Win, win.” 

You said nothing, only sinking further into the bath, with your mouth underwater and now a questionable amount of legs sticking out the other end. 

“If you want it washed, then let me wash it for you,” he added. You turned your head over again, only just being able to meet his eyes over the rim. “I won’t look, if that’s what you’re hesitating about.” 

You snorted into the water, sitting yourself up to laugh without drowning yourself. His almost caring delivery of the phrase, paired with his eye roll was comical. After settling, and ignoring Levi’s steely glare for a good few minutes, you let out a sigh. 

“Fine, just this once.”

“I wasn’t planning on washing your hair for you forever brat.” He said, and moved his chair over so it was behind you. 

You supposed, if he didn’t shove you underwater and call it a rinse, getting your hair washed for you would be fine. Nice even. But you didn’t expect for it to feel that relaxing. Sitting there, as the bath water cooled, you felt his fingers run through your hair. Pulling the tangles out with patience that would only be found in a thousand people. Washing out the dirt, mud, sweat, grease, and blood with every pour of a jug. 

You prayed to whatever higher beings there were that his fingers would always work in such a way forever. It would be cruel to have them taken away when they could massage the soap into your scalp so well. 

Only once did you get dunked - but that was because you threatened him with the idea that he was enjoying washing your hair as much as you were enjoying the feeling of it. 

You thought he did, at least, and you knew he’d never admit it if your idea was true.

But whenever you find yourself in the bath at 2 am, when you’re at your lowest and ready to forget the long, taxing, and trying days, he’s always there to wash your hair. 

So then you knew.

[alittlebitmaybe]

making concessions

so i, uh, maybe wrote the nichest, dumbest cracky au ficlet in the world. i blame @yoursummerfrost who is possibly the sole audience for this. i hope you’re happy.

anyway, this is what i described in this post, aka “Geralt and Jaskier meet at a Magic: the Gathering tournament that Jaskier has no business being at but somehow he beats Geralt and then they try to have sex in the bathroom”

featuring a complete disregard for like, legal cards or real decks or any actual knowledge of MTG tournaments beyond living with someone who plays it a lot

rated M for like frottage and marking and stuff

--

“Fresh meat,” Yen mutters, perched against one of the folding tables, knees spread. She punctuates it with a snap of her bubble gum.

Geralt folds his arms across his chest, eyebrow raised. “This is a low-tier Magic tournament, Yen, not a grade school playground.”

“Doesn’t make him not fresh meat. He’s gonna last five minutes, tops. Someone is gonna OTK that poor bastard.”

“We’ve all got to start somewhere.”

“That kid, Geralt,” she says, “is starting nowhere.”

The man Yen calls that kid does look more like he should be at Coachella than at a Magic: the Gathering tournament—bandana, loose tank top, cuffed jean shorts, and all—but, Geralt thinks, clearing his throat, he’s definitely no kid, not with the definition in his arms and the chest hair and the light scruff along his jaw. He is, though, going around and asking people to show him their decks, which he takes from them and riffles through clumsily while oohing and ahhing.

“Good for me, at least,” Geralt adds. “One less actual competitor to knock out.”

Yen punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Sure, if you can keep it in your pants. You just went all googly-eyed. Those baby blues suck you in already?”

He drags his gaze back to her. “He’s alright. If he touches my cards like that I’ll kill him. They’re worth more than his life.”

“I know, dear. I know. Well, gird yourself, because if you both win your first matches you’re against each other.”

Geralt smiles. “No problem. I’ve been playtesting against every meta deck for weeks. My win ratios are favorable against almost anything. This whole thing is mine.”

“Nerd,” says Yen.

Geralt tugs at the hem of her vest, and she kicks out at him with her boot heel. “You’re literally a judge here. You’re certified.”

“Exactly. I’m in a position of power, but you’re just here to show off. Nerd.”

“Keep it up and I won’t share the prize.”

“Half the prize money would barely buy me dinner at Applebee’s, but thanks anyway, darling. You can keep it, I think I’ll manage.”

And well, that’s fair, actually.

“It’s not about the money,” Geralt protests.

Yen snorts. “Obviously, or no one would be here. We all just bow to the whims of MTG. And thank them. And hand over our credit cards.”

Coachella man has dropped someone’s deck all over the floor and is apologetically gathering the cards back into a haphazard pile. The spectacle has drawn stares.

“Who’s the fool, really?” Yen asks. “Him, or us?”

“Hm,” Geralt replies.

--

“Geralt,” says Geralt. “Bant ramp.”

“Jaskier,” says Coachella man, smiling brightly and taking the proffered hand as he settles himself across the table. “Was that last bit English?”

“It’s…my deck,” Geralt explains dubiously. “Bant ramp? Green, white, blue?”

Jaskier pulls an impressed face. “They’ve got names for things like that? You really know your stuff, Geralt.”

“Uh,” says Geralt, nonplussed. “Yeah, thanks. What are you playing, then?”

“Oh, I’ve got this great deck! It’s got all the colors because I couldn’t pick just a few, and all the cards have such pretty art, you know? I had to put in the best ones. A few of ‘em are even shiny. She’s treated me well so far, this deck. I love her.”

Geralt scans down the list of players on his tourney pamphlet. Next to Jaskier’s name it says only Five color aggro???

Geralt huffs out through his nose. That is nonsensical, and—most importantly—not something he ever playtested against. But no matter what is in that deck, Geralt’s got this in the bag. There’s no way this Jaskier guy has the land base needed to support five colors. Especially if he chose his cards, apparently, based on the art.

Jaskier begins slowly pile shuffling his deck of utterly unsleeved cards. Not even inner sleeves, much less double sleeves. Geralt’s blood pressure ticks up.

“So, uh,” he begins, “you’re new to this, huh? What got you into Magic?”

“Ah, my friend Essi plays here and there, she mentioned this and it seemed like it’d be a lark. New experience and such. And hey”—Jaskier looks up and grins—“maybe I’ll win!”

Geralt thinks about the hours and weeks and years he’s spent studying cards and losing games and analyzing pro matches. “Good luck,” he says.

“Thank you, you’re sweet.”

Jaskier continues placing each card meticulously on its own stack. Geralt shuffles his own deck again and again as he waits.

“Do you want me to, uh.”

Jaskier looks up and says, “Oh, would you? That would be so helpful. I’ve never quite got the hang of the—,” he makes a riffle shuffle gesture, “—whole shuffling thing.”

--

He loses the coin toss, which, he realizes a few turns later, is not an auspicious beginning. But even with Jaskier on the play and him on the draw, certainly it won’t make that much of a difference. Not when Jaskier has to squint at his hand like he’s reading all the card texts for the first time ever. At one point he even goes “Oh, that’s an interesting one,” as if surprised. It cannot make that much of a difference to go second.

And it doesn’t. Because he can’t draw shit to save his life.

While Geralt draws white mana after white mana, Jaskier throws down creature after creature, ignoring effects and the stack entirely in favor of big numbers and building a “board aesthetic.” Whatever the fuck that means. He drops a land on every turn and his mana costs curve out perfectly, despite the stretch over five fucking colors. It’s nothing short of miraculous.

Finally, Geralt is staring down a board of attackers against the lone creature he’d managed to play, and Jaskier says “Ooh, I’ve got enough of the land thingies to play this fella!” and drops—of all fucking things—a Craterhoof Behemoth. Like Geralt isn’t already nearly dead on board.

Geralt eyes the board wipe in his hand that—for fuck’s sake—requires blue.

A single blue mana needed, and a stack of Plains in front of him a mile high.

“It resolves,” he grumbles.

“Woooooo,” says Jaskier. “I mean, that’s good, right?”

“Yes,” says Geralt. “For you.”

He’s got one more draw step to try to dig for an Island. One fucking Island, a fetch land, a mana-producing artifact, anything. He’s spent way too much money on his mana fixing for this to happen.

On his draw, he takes into hand a worthless green creature.

“Fuck!” He scrubs a hand over his face, drops his hand onto the table. “That’s the game. Good one.”

Jaskier looks confused. “What do you mean? You mean I win? But I didn’t get to, you know.” He mimes pushing his attackers across the table like an advancing army. “Kill you.”

“I’m dead on board and have nothing.”

“But I wanted to attack with my big fella!”

Geralt sighs and faintly hears Yen laughing her ass off down the table. And they play out Jaskier’s turn. In which Geralt immediately dies.

As Jaskier celebrates and gathers his cards, Geralt levels him with a tired stare. “Look, be straight with me. Is this a fucking hustle?”

Jaskier laughs brightly. “What, didn’t think I could play, eh?”

“You can’t,” Geralt says. “Obviously. Unless it’s a hustle.”

“No hustling here!” Jaskier then wiggles his eyebrows lasciviously. “Unless you’d like to hustle me later. If you catch my drift.”

Geralt does. “That is not a real come on.”

“Sure it is, since you know I’m coming on to you.”

“Let’s just play out the match,” Geralt says with finality.

He’s down one, but he just needs two wins. Two wins against a deck that will, eventually, be inconsistent and impractical. He shuffles his own deck—tested and massaged until its consistency holds up to real life statistics—four times, just to make sure.

Then Jaskier holds out his deck and Geralt begrudgingly shuffles that, too.

“You have nice hands,” Jaskier comments, following his fingers on the cards. “Big. Strong. Capable.”

“Shut up,” Geralt mumbles, and pretends to ignore it when Jaskier says, Yes, sir.

--

He loses the match on game two, and it’s his own damn fault, this time, because Jaskier drops an infinite combo and doesn’t even realize it until Geralt opens his dumb fucking mouth.

“There it is,” he groans, resigned, as Jaskier lays down the last combo piece. “Lucky draw.”

“Eh?”

“You comboed out?”

“Eh?” Jaskier says again, fingers still on the card like he’s thinking of taking it back, face utterly perplexed.

“You—holy fucking Christ.” Geralt throws his hands in the air. “You don’t even know you have that combo, do you.”

“I—do not, per se, know that, no.”

“That effect will untap your artifact, which lets you—oh, who cares. Fine. You win. Congrats.”

Jaskier’s expression brightens. “I win? Really? But I didn’t even attack!”

“You win. Really.”

Geralt wants a beer.

“Oh!” Jaskier is now beaming. He glances at his watch, a gold-trimmed gaudy thing. “Well, that was quick. We’ve got some time before the next round, if you wanna—uh—”

“Yeah,” sighs Geralt. Heat curls in his belly alongside the mingled anger (shame? embarrassment?) and disappointment. “Whatever.”

Might as well.

--

Geralt shoves Jaskier back against the bathroom door as he locks it, and Jaskier promptly wraps his legs around Geralt’s waist. Without a moment of hesitation Geralt leans in, biting at Jaskier’s lips, feeling arms circle his neck and hands weave themselves into his hair. Their bodies align perfectly and when Geralt thrusts forward, Jaskier gasps into his mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “yeah, like that.”

A growl leaves Geralt in response, frustration with this stupid, clueless man bubbling up within him. Jaskier tastes like red Gatorade and smells like that body butter Yen keeps on her bathroom counter.

It’s less off-putting than it should be.

He keeps going like that, not because he was told to but because it’s infuriatingly good, Jaskier’s body warm and firm and pliant against his as he rolls his hips.

“Oh, God,” Jaskier groans on a thrust that results in a particularly good drag, which separates their mouths enough for Geralt to redirect his attention. With one hand he drags down the idiotic bandana tied around Jaskier’s neck and starts to suck harsh marks into salty skin. Jaskier keeps up a noisy litany of gasps and muffled, bitten-off encouragements. “Oh, that’s—good, fuck—your mouth—like it rough, don’t you…”

Geralt doesn’t particularly like it rough, actually, when he hasn’t been fucking hustled at his own game, but Jaskier still doesn’t seem to have caught on to the part where Geralt is sort of fucking furious about this whole situation.

Instead of explaining himself, he just bites down on Jaskier’s pulse point and curls his hand around Jaskier’s waist where his shirt is rucked up, nails digging in.

“Yeah—” Jaskier says, and tugs at Geralt’s hair, and then there’s banging on the door.

“We can hear you, assholes. There’s a line out here and we gotta piss,” an angry voice calls from the other side.

“Use the ladies’!” Jaskier yells hoarsely. “There’s never anyone in there. This one’s occupied.” Geralt moves against him again. “Oh, that’s—more.”

“No,” says the angry voice. “No more.” Another round of banging. “We’re calling property management. They’ve got a key.”

“Shit,” Geralt says, dropping Jaskier, who makes an indignant noise. He unlocks and opens the door.

There is, in fact, a small crowd around the men’s room, headed by a red-faced man half a foot shorter than Geralt.

“Can’t you mind your own business?” Geralt says.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants?” the man sneers back.

“Technically,” Jaskier pipes up, straightening his bandana and swiping at his hair, “nothing ever came out of any pants.”

“Jaskier,” says Geralt, “don’t help.”

An official-looking group of people rounds the corner, accompanied by Yen, who spots Geralt and nearly falls to the floor in a mirthful fit. He rolls his eyes.

The officials don’t like that at all.

--

A few months later, Jaskier kneels on the other side of Geralt’s coffee table, considering his hand. He licks his lip and taps a few lands to place an enchantment, which Geralt promptly counters.

“You and your fucking—control decks,” Jaskier sighs. “Let me play one some time.”

“Make your own,” says Geralt. “You can use my collection.”

“Ah, maybe I will, and then you won’t be able to play anything at all, ever, and how would you like that?”

“Do you have anything to get rid of my flyers?”

“Unfortunately, no, Geralt, I do not, or I would have played it by now.”

“Then you should probably concede.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He picks up his cards, sleeved properly, and slides them over to Geralt’s side. “Shuffle please.”

Geralt shuffles them.

“Shame we can’t go to the tournament today,” says Jaskier wistfully. “Banned. What rot. We didn’t even get off that day. Rudely interrupted.”

“Yeah, well, someone had no business being there, anyway.”

“I still think I could have gone all the way. Beat you, didn’t I?”

“Haven’t since.”

“Only because you learned my tricks.”

“Jaskier, you don’t have tricks.”

“Exactly.” He smiles, and Geralt can’t help but smile back. When he places Jaskier’s deck back on the table, Jaskier’s hand rests on top of his. “I am, though, Geralt, absolutely thrilled that we met. Whatever the circumstance. Or consequence. If it needs saying.”

It doesn’t, but Geralt meets his eyes and says, “Yeah, me too.”

[scribeofmorpheus]

Himmeløyne [22/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N: I have started my first original gothic story (it'll be much darker than this fic but can I offer you werewolves, vampires, 1970s Europe aesthetic as an incentive?). It's on Wattpad and I intend to update it every Wednesday, but I never stick to update schedules so... Here ya go: OUR LADY OF DARKNESS

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

The end of the abyss—that frightful stream of continuous fall and forceful uplift—it finally had an end. It was a large door. Smell of rain and storms, with the slick glisten of wet rock hugging the archway. A dark type of stone, jagged and natural, the door seemed to be carved into the side of a mountain. But the mirage ended where the rock began, there were no walls. No infrastructure. Just the green of the mirror world and two hunkering doors. The archway was carved in the shape of a snake; same as the kind that embellished the rigging of ships, tongue curled, eyes made of rings within rings.

A sequence of lettering—foreign, yet oh, so familiar—hovered in the mist, your mind scrambling to make sense of the words.

“Oracle, what is this place?”

The whisper was quiet, for a brief moment you worried that you were truly on your own in this stretch of emptiness.

I sense… something has been concealed from me. Its magic is fevered, dusted in loss. Pain. Desire. It is out of place. Out of time. The conjurer’s magic has the same energy as yours, only… stronger.

“Stronger?” You shuddered at the thought. After a pause, you asked: “You don’t see the door?”

Door? What door?

“What of the letters?”

I—No, I see nothing. Describe it to me.

“There’s a serpent on the door.”

A serpent? Does he eat his tail?

“No, his head marks the start of the archway, but his mouth is facing the ground.”

Then it is incomplete. An incantation must be needed to complete the image. What of the lettering?

“These letters, they’re different than common tongue or Asgardian runes. They aren’t Jotun either. They look… I don’t know. They look so familiar.”

Reach for them.

“What?”

Familiar magic has a tendency to want to be understood, that is why it feels familiar. Touch it.

You stuck your hand up, jumping on your tippy-toes to try and grab the incorporeal words floating above your head. In defiance, they simply rose higher up, further out of reach.

Do not reach with your body, Child of the Sky. Reach with your magic.

With an exhale, you stuck both hands high up in the air, conjuring the bristle of energy that raced across your spine during spellcasting. Remembering through muscle and memory of what it was like to be in control of your magic. Of what it was like to revel in its deliciousness, its wildness, its link to Loki. A swirl of warmth took shelter in your belly, that warmth you’d grown to love before it was ripped from you and replaced by the cold of Odin’s incantation.

Suddenly, the words began to sink, lowering themselves like feathers, at first, then with the heft of an arrow, and finally, a stone.

With a crash, the words burst into fire and embers, each ember digging into your skin in a sensory overload that formed echoes in the mist.

A version of you,—the shade whose voice you heard in the abyss—older, magic glowing a different hue of blue, in strange clothing, stood by the door. You were witnessing the construction of the doorway. Every splinter, fibre, rock and sand particle materialised as though you were undoing the wroth of a sandstorm to make way for a rock giant. A woman, with firebrand hair and soft features, stood beside you, she looked drained, weary. She had magic too, it was the colour of blood. The colour of fire. It flickered in and out around her body, as if fighting to take over.

There was a young boy clasping onto the shade’s hand. Aloof in expression, a scaly growth the colour of white sands on his elbows, ankles, neck and cheeks. He was a beautiful child, hair as soft as down, curls that fluffed in a way you could never get yours too. Eyes of a pure and deep blue. Ocean surface during a thunderstorm blue.

He looked at the shade the same way little Sigrid had when she’d waved her plump, little hand goodbye before following after the hunters. It made you yearn for something so pure with a fierce heart.

“There, that should do it,” the shade said as the door materialised from thin air. “Now, we need a seal so no one who wanders can know of this place.”

“Is this absolutely necessary?” the woman asked, hugging her frame as if she were cold.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but this is the only way I know for certain that what we’re doing now happens.” The shade’s voice felt dark, wizened in years, the same way Frigga spoke of grave matters. “This fortress is the only way he survived in my time. If we can’t change things, as the sorcerer said, then the least we can do is ensure things continue on their set path.”

“He’ll be trapped… for who knows how long? Centuries? Millennia? He’s just a boy.”

“He’s more than that,” the shade got down on one knee to look at the boy. From that angle, you could see the mangled, L shaped scars over each of her shoulder blades. They resembled the scars birds would suffer when their wings were ripped for medicines. “This is the only way he stays safe. I’ve already cemented the other enchantments. Time will not be felt here. He will not feel sadness or regret or the bitterness of solitude. He will sleep, as I once did, except… he will not be aware. And he will dream of only happy things. Then, when the time comes, I will jump. I’ll take him back with me.”

The firebrand woman showed doubt for the first time, “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve already done it.” The shade touched the other magic bearer’s shoulder, a comradery there. A closeness built from time and triumph, much like that kindred fire you shared with Sif. “Now, a phrase. A word. Anything to bind this lock to. Something unique.”

“Why don’t you choose it?” “Because I know myself. It has to be something I’d never choose so that she never knows it, and no mind reader can ever guess it should they stumble upon this place.”

“Vision,” the woman’s lips quivered with loss, but there was a bloom of hope in the tweak of her lips as your shade repeated the word.

The biting of the magic ended, and suddenly, you were alone again.

What happened? Child of the Sky? Are you there?

“I’m right here, Oracle,” you choked out, a tightness in your throat.

You were gone. One instant here, the next… nowhere. Somewhere. Between.

“I know how to open the door,” you took several steps back and then cleared your throat. With conviction and authority, you calmly said: “Vision.”

What did the magic reveal to you?

Your head was spinning from the fabrics of this mirror universe being so amateurishly tailored, so lacking in its design and purpose. The more you discovered, the more you began to doubt if this world was ancient; or if it was barely into its adolescence. “I do not quite understand it, yet. You said you were imprisoned here?”

Yes. I have been without body or memory for as long as I can remember.

The snake on the door began to slither till its mouth was at the top, and its tail was tucked firmly in its jaws. Then its eyes glowed the same colour as the child’s, thunderstorm blue. With a groan and a strike of something loud, the door peeled back. Beyond its threshold was a mutation of worlds, all collided in exquisite syzygy; aligned, misaligned, human, Asgardian, Jotun, and even the liquid blackness of space with pepper spots for stars.

“And how long ago was that?”

I—I do not… Centuries? Millennia? Aeons?

To busy your mind of doubt and fear as you stepped past the threshold and heard the door seal shut behind you, you toyed with the idea of understanding more of this world. “You said you could hear the beginning of your name… What was it?”

The whisper grew soft, warm. It sounded like ‘see’. Or was it the sea? Sea? Sea. Sea!

A garden shifted into the plane, then with a breath, a lake, then a cave, then a temple, then a waterfall, then a tower made of metal and glass. The world wasn’t fixed to a temporal setting, nor a specific location in space. It was like watching fire tell a story; brief, bright and constant.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

At the epicentre, laying on a stone tablet with a curtain of gold—that same curtain from the healing chamber—wrapped around like a fleece, was the child. Unaged. Beautiful. Asleep. He had no scaly growths like in the visions.

You took your steps with trepidation. Almost afraid to make a whisper even though the Oracle chanted ‘Sea!’ over and over. Its voice morphing into the very faint intones of a voice you knew all too well.

The world began to peel away the closer you got to the child. A presence was syphoning the magic, transmuting it for another purpose. A purpose that you now realised was meant to happen. Soon, a figure of pure light, with large wings of utmost magnificence, formed from the siphoned magics of the world. The Oracle was gaining form. The fleece turned grey and the boy began to stir. The magic of the sleep spell was broken.

You approached him slowly. Hands seeking out his aura. Then, in the most silver of voices you’d ever heard, he said, “You came. You said you’d come.” A smile of familiarity adorned his freckled laugh lines.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“Do you know me?”

He nodded.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

 “How?”

 “From now.”

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“What’s your name?”

He seemed confused. Reeling back from the line you’d cast him for with that question. Bait in hook, he fished in the muddy waters that were your consciousness. You could feel his magic, abrasive as sand between toes, cool and wet, but also warm and sea-salt thick. He replied, “You haven’t given it to me yet. But you will return hers to her.”

He pointed to the Oracle’s figure, pulsating into a more corporeal form. The boy opened his hand and you knew instantly what he needed you to do before you thought to ask. A reflex. His magic extended to yours, carrying thought, and the very genesis of thought in its energy. You placed your face close so his hand could cover the cavity where your eye used to be.

Sugar. Berries picked from the wild thickets. A prick into padded thumb. Ooze of blood. A slight sting, then a scab and finally nothing, no marks, no evidence of the thorn in your thumb. He was projecting images of what he envisioned as he healed you. What the berries would taste like; apples. “You can open your eyes now. It was gold when we met. I kept it the same.”

Feeling no different than before, you opened both eyes for the first time since you stepped into Verdenspeil. With a tickle, the runes drawn on your hand and forehead sloughed off like skin cells. You could see the world without them. You could see through both eyes again. The shifting world shifted to a hexagon of mirrors. One, the sky shifting blue of your mother, the other, the ancient, world piercing gold of your father, your face held two eyes again.

“It’s… beautiful,” you looked down at the boy with your eyes. He showed teeth with his grin, pleased with himself. Pleased with your laugh of awe. “There was a boy in my village. Half as beautiful as you are. Half as joyful, with a smile and constellations marking his nose and cheeks too. He showed me kindness. His name was Baldrick. I shall call you Baldrick.”

��“Now that you have spoken my name, remind her of who she is,” the boy said, glancing at the Oracle. “You know. You know but cannot believe.”

A gasp left your mouth. A mix of hope and disbelief. With the new eye, you could see the face of the Oracle beneath the light, beneath the enchantment that kept her hidden.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“S-Sigrid.”

The Oracle hushed before exploding into a million, tiny pieces of energy. Out of the explosion was your mother, winged as the Valkyrie from legend, wearing the armour you had seen in the mirror prior to entering Verdenspeil.  

“Y/N,” she said, lowering to the ground. Her hand cupped your face. You could barely feel her. “I have waited so long for this moment.”

“Mother,” you hugged her close.

A swirl of black formed once the mirrors of the world broke. Sigrid looked at you with panic.

“Listen, there isn’t time. Take the boy, “Sigrid removed a bracelet and cast it into the black-hole. A portal began to form, leading to what looked like a stone temple. “Take him and jump, it’ll lead you to the one with answers.”

“I don’t understand! Why can’t you come with us? How are you alive?”

“I’m not alive dear, sweet child. But I can promise this isn’t the last you’ll see of me. We will meet again, soon. I promise. But you must go, the world has fulfilled its purpose. There is no reason for it to exist anymore. It has already began to unravel.”

The mist began to turn sour, choking like poison.

You coughed, breathing through your sleeve, “But, as the Oracle, you said I had to take you to the source.”

“You are the source. You and the boy. Your magics are entangled. The maze was a lie, one devised by you. This world isn’t ancient, it is young. A deception. I am the deceiver. My purpose was to ensure none but you found the boy and the portal to Mímir’s tomb. You enchanted this world so all would walk along the lighted paths until they reached a portal that would return them to a random space within the nine realms. You enchanted this world with your memories, so only you could follow them. Hear them.” Sigrid handed you a four-pronged dagger, “Take this you’ll need it.” She kissed your cheek, then her form started unravelling with the world too. Through transference, she gave you her armour, it was lighter than you'd expected, and it fit to cover your proportions through magical effect.

“Why can’t you come with us?” you reached your hand out to Baldrick. He took it with ease.

“I am not meant for the lands of the living,” she lamented. “Go! Before the world takes you with it.”

You rushed to the portal, but before you could step through you asked one last question: “What did you mean by ‘sins of the father��?”

“The war,” Sigrid fluttered her wings to hover in the green mist. “It was a lie. The Jotuns, they didn’t start it. We—the Himmel Kvinner—there’s a reason why only the women in our family inherited the gift. It’s not just power. It’s essence. A woman’s essence. Odin didn’t know we would develop magic from the artefact, but none of us were able to understand the complexity of her spell. Until you. You will discover the reason behind it all. You told me you did. I suspect it is because you are not fully mortal." Bitterly, she added as her body turned to mist as well, "You will bring the heavens to its knees. And your fate is that none shall remember it.”

One of Sigrid’s wings dissipated, she faltered in the air, then shouted: “Go!”

“I love you,” you whispered before hurtling through the undulating expanse of the portal.

“I know…” you heard her whisper back as Verdenspeil was destroyed.

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT12 (end)

Warnings: (mainly in epilogue if you want to skip that part once you reach it, go ahead) Blood, insinuating a bone breaking, threatening, broken skin, desperate begging, and just evil things all around

... meanwhile we also have fluff!, Gavin fluff!, Victor Fluff!, surprise guest fluff???, also Bart being an icon!, also some insinuated ~✰☽Gayness☾ ✰~ so if you have a problem with any of that you can leave now before you are hooked by the heckin cliffhanger that I have all cooked up for you!! :D

(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven can be found here!)

Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D

Chapter Four:

Part twelve (end):

She was there again. After all these years, my queen was standing right in front of me. She really hadn’t changed. Sure she had grown quite a bit but,

 It was her. 

She wasn’t very tall. Or plump for that manner. She looked to be only the size of a teenager but, after all the time that had passed from then, I knew she couldn’t have been that young. 

Her hair was brown and shoulder length. She wore a layered white skirt with a striped blue shirt tied just on top of it. She was there. But she was facing away from me. I moved to touch her but my legs wouldn't budge. Why couldn’t she just turn around? Why couldn’t she just let me see her face again?

I called her name 

Everything went black. 

Screams and cries for help filled my head. Scattered footsteps, soft cries, stone grinding stone, a loud bang, and then silence. Pain welled in my chest. A pain I hadn’t felt but somehow seemed familiar. Horribly familiar. It wretched at my insides, breaking me without giving me any kind of release. I wanted to tear the feeling out of me, pull apart my chest until I could find peace again. I just wanted it to stop. To see her again. I just wanted to see my-

I gasped and threw my eyes open. I sat up quickly, clutching at my chest and breathing heavily to steady my racing heart. The dream was over but the pain was still there. It wasn’t as prominent but it was there. What could have caused that? Why was it familiar?? Who was that girl?! 

I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly. "It was just a dream." I whispered to myself, "That girl doesn’t exist. It doesn't mean anything it's… it's just a dream." I repeated those words in my head over and over again but something about it still bothered me. Where had I seen that girl before? Where had I felt that pain before? Why was it all so familiar to me?

I groaned and held my face in my hands. I had a lot of memories that I had repressed from my childhood. That pain was heart wrenching. It’s no wonder I wanted to forget it…

But that girl. She didn’t make me feel bad. In fact, seeing her made me calm. I wanted to be closer to her, to see her face, to hold her. Why would I want to forget that? Forget her?

I looked at my watch. There was just a few minutes until my alarm to work out would go off. I sighed and lay back down. A pain pushed through my chest, not the same one from my dream but a familiar one nonetheless.

 I clutched my side as memories from the night before came flooding back to my mind. I looked over to the living room. Adri stirred from the couch, letting the blanket on her shoulders fall slightly. I slowly got out of bed and approached her cautiously. Being sure to move slowly, I pulled the blanket up and tucked the blanket into her shoulder. She snuggled into it, still fast asleep. I smiled slightly as I looked up. Gavin was sleeping in the recliner. He was sitting up in it. Despite how uncomfortable it seemed, Gavin looked to be sound asleep. I moved to walk back to my bed but paused as something on his lap caught my eye. It was a book. But not just any book. 

It was my high school yearbook. 

A pen rested in the middle, as if marking the page he was on. I smirked and carefully pulled it from him. He sure was obsessed with this book. I put the book away in its rightful place and pulled out a blanket out from a small bin. I gently placed it on Gavin, draping it carefully down his body. He breathed deeply and sunk into the chair further, falling farther into his slumber.

A soft smile blossomed on my lips. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping like this. Not to mention vulnerable. I wonder how he would look with a mustache…

My phone buzzed. I quickly plucked it from my pocket and turned it off. I glanced at Adri and Gavin. They didn’t seem to be phased by it. Sighing lightly, I looked around my apartment. Well, now that I’m up, I might as well continue with my day…

>>>

I smoothed out my work out clothes before carefully picking up my gym bag. I walked to the door and reached for the door knob. Gavin stirred in his seat slightly. I glanced at him. I should probably leave a note if I’m leaving them like this. I tapped my chin and looked around. My eyes landed on the note pad that I kept on the fridge. Taking that and the pen that Gavin had in his yearbook, I wrote a quick note: 

I’ve already headed to work. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge as a thank you for staying over.  I think I have some homemade casserole in there if you're interested. Maria should arrive around seven so, Gavin, you shouldn’t be late for work and, Adri, have a good day at school. Let’s do this again soon.

Talk to you both later,

Ike.

I placed the note in the middle of the coffee table. I gave one last look to my guests before heading back to the door and grabbing my keys. I moved to reach for the doorknob again but paused. The spare key to my apartment enchantingly dangled before me. I looked back over to Gavin.

>

Gavin’s eyelids were overwhelmed by the morning sun. He squeezed his eyes tightly, hoping to get some more sleep. But he found that to be impossible from a craning on his neck. Gavin slowly blinked awake, his memory slowly coming back to him. He looked down. Wasn’t he reading the yearbook? Now, not only was the yearbook gone, but a blanket sat in its place. Gavin looked around the room, stretching as he did so. Adri and Ike were nowhere to be seen. Gavin quickly stood up and looked around again with more fervently this time. The bathroom door opened and Adri walked out of it, eyes looking down at her phone. She glanced up at the room and paused when she saw Gavin.

“G-good morning.” Adri stammered, cheeks becoming slightly rosy, “How’d you sleep?”

“F-fine.” Gavin faltered, his once racing heart easing at the sight of one of the sisters safe, “Where’s Ike?” Adri gestured to the coffee table, leading Gavin’s eyes down to it. There sat a folded note with his name on it. Gavin picked it up swiftly. 

“Also, I think she wants you to have this.” Adri said, cutting Gavin short of reading the note. She tossed something to him, which he caught with ease. It was a key with a separate note attached to it in Ike’s handwriting. Gavin read it.

Just in case.

“I would guess she’d want that for me but I can’t even drive yet.” Adri laughed sheepishly. Gavin smiled sweetly. Much to Ike’s perceptible dismay, Gavin had expected to use that key whenever he had the chance.

>

I stood in the elevator next to a nervously sweating Bart. “How do I look?!” He asked for the umpteenth time that day.

“Like a nervous wreck.” I honestly answered yet again. I had spent the whole day with my team, trying to put together the plan for next week’s filming. We had spent so much time together that day that I hadn’t seen Victor since he had picked me up that morning. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t see him at all that day. In the car, Victor told me that he would like to meet with both me and Bart. I didn’t know why. All Victor said was that it was important. I was unphased by the sudden invite but Bart on the other hand…

“What if Victor hates the color purple?!” Bart asked, looking distastefully down at his violet tie, “I knew I should have gone with vermillion!”

“Honestly, aren’t you the one that does all the interviews?” I asked, arching my eyebrow, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Because! What if Victor is taking back the investment?!” Bart said quickly, as if he had been waiting for my question, “What if the lunch from yesterday was enough to realize that we spend too much time as a family and not enough time as a company?! What if he hates me and wants me out of the picture so you can take over?!”

“Ok, now that we have all the dumb ideas out of the way,” I rolled my eyes, “let’s start thinking of the good ones. He probably has something that he would like to discuss about the investment to the both of us. You know, to make sure we are all on the same page.” Bart relaxed slightly, “Or he has trained ninjas waiting just beyond this door to take us out so he can take over our company.”

“EVELYN!?”

“We’ll be fine… but maybe let me take the lead.”

“Out of the elevator or in the meeting?”

“Yes.” 

The elevator dinged and, after checking for ninjas, Bart and I hurried to Victor’s office. I knocked on the door. “Come in.” Victor called. I walked in and immediately froze.

 Standing in front of Victor’s desk was a petite, professionally dressed young woman. She had brown hair that fell just at her shoulders, framing the knotted blue shirt she had on perfectly. 

She turned to me. 

As she did the flouncy shirt she wore twirled beautifully around her knees. Her eyes were big, brown, and laced with innocence. And her smile could out match a child’s with it’s purity. 

It was her. 

The woman from my dreams. 

She was standing in front of me. 

She was real.

I staggered in my steps as I watched her, dazed and astonished by the sight of her. Part of me expected to wake up. Another part wanted to continue dreaming. The last part was wondering why the heck I hadn’t said something yet. 

Bart set a hand on my shoulder, “I’m sorry.” he said as he peered into the room, “Are we interrupting something?”

“Not at all.” Victor stood from behind his desk, “Bartholomew, Ikamara, this is Youran.” The name sent sparks in the back of my mind, “She is the producer of the Yu Yun Productions Company.” Youran approached Bart and I. Each step she took shockwaves into my head. For some reason, I felt nervous to greet her. I shouldn’t have been though, as her head barely met the top of my nose  from how short she was. I could have thrown her like a football if I wanted to… or hold her close to me like a puppy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Her voice was soft and sweet like taffy. Despite the strange feelings I had, I stepped forward. But before I could out stretch my hand, Bart had pulled me aside and took Youran’s hand instead.

“The pleasure is all mine!!” Bart enthusiastically said to her, shaking her hand fervently, “I have been a fan of your show Miracle Finder since I was, well, as young as you are!!” Bart belly laughed, causing Youran to smile sweetly. I gulped. “You’re show is the reason I decided to become a producer myself!! Your father was a legend! It was a shame to see him go... I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” She said meaningfully, accepting another handshake from Bart, “That’s really sweet of you to say.” Youran’s eyes landed on me, making my heart freeze. She held out a hand to me. “Hi!” She said kindly, “You must be-”

“Ike.” I said, finally finding my voice as I took her hand, “Call me Ike.” Something flashed In Youran’s eyes. Something indecipherable. I hesitated. Did she feel the same feelings that I had?... or maybe I was just scaring her with my staring. Speak, Ike, SPEAK! “I-it’s a pleasure to meet you, Youran.” I continued, hoping to ease away any awkwardness I may have conjured, “What are you doing at LFG? Does Victor have an investment with Yu Yun Productions as well?”

“What company hasn’t he invested in?” Youran grumbled slightly, she leaned forward and whispered, “I swear he has the whole city wrapped around his little finger.”

“Please.” I scoffed, folding my arms, “As if Victor would let in the entire city. He would only have the best of the best then leave the rest to wallow.” Youran laughed with such an intoxicating sound that it should be kept in a music box, ready to be played when I needed it. 

“He could be some sort of super villain.” Youran whispered to me as she glanced back at Victor. I bent over next to her ear and away from Victor’s sight.

“Captain Capitalist.” I whispered back. Youran laughed harder, causing a warmth to bubble in my chest and a smile to spring onto my face.

“Alright ladies.” Victor called from the other side of the room, “Time for leisure is over. Youran, you have a report you need to turn in before the end of the week. Ike, we have a meeting.” Youran rolled her eyes.

“Good luck.” She said sweetly to me.

“Thank you.” I said, holding my smile, “Hey, if you need help with that report, you should let me know. I’m pretty good at writing what Victor wants to hear.”

“Really?!” Youran’s eyes became wide with enthusiasm, “That would be great!!”

“Ladies.” Victor urged.

“Sorry!” Youran said, waving to Victor. She turned quickly back to me. “We should continue this later!” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a business card. She handed it to me. “The second number is my cell phone! Text me next time you’re free!” She turned back to Victor and Bart. “Bye! It was nice meeting you!” 

“The pleasure was all mine!” Bart waved happily to her. She turned back to me, gave me one last smile then briskly walked to the door and closed it behind her. I kept my eyes on her, the business card sitting strangely in my hand. She couldn’t have been real. That can’t have happened... Why did she seem so familiar?!

“Wow!” Bart snapped me out of my thoughts. I quickly turned to look at him, catching his teasing expression before it faded.

“What?” I asked, somewhat defensively.

“Nothing! It’s just… I’ve never seen you smile like that with anyone before.”

My breath hitched, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it took us months just to get you to talk! You don’t trust anyone who we bring to the house, and you’re cold to everyone in the office.”

“Yes, Bart. Please keep insulting me in front of Victor. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the encouragement.” 

“But one conversation with her and you’re already smiling!”

My face flushed. “Y-Yeah, well. you’re one to talk!” I stammered, slipping the business card into my blazer pocket and approaching Victor’s desk, “‘You’re the reason I became a producer in the first place!’ She’s like half your age, Bartholomew. Calm down.”

“I’m just saying!” Bart defended, throwing his hands up, “She must be a really neat person if she could pull a smile from you that easily!” I opened my mouth to retort but paused. I was inclined to agree with him. Being with her felt so easy. It was like nothing I had felt before. I wonder why that was…

I cleared my throat. “Don’t we have a meeting to start?” I said, taking on a power stance across from Victor and looking steadfastly at him. Victor had his hand to his mouth, seemingly lost in thought. “...Victor.” I appealed. He snapped to and looked up at me.

“Right.” He said, prepositioning himself in his chair, “Bart, have a seat.” Bart, who was still questionably giddy, sat down in the seat next to me. “First thing’s first,” Victor’s tone had become intensely professional, pulling Bart and me into the same professional mood, “As you can see, Ike, your office has moved.” I looked around. He was right. My desk was gone.

I whistled, “Geez, I didn’t even notice.”

“That was because you were too busy making googly eyes at Youran.” Bart sung.

I snapped my head to face him, “I was doing no such thing!”

“Yes, dear.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Just so you know, Maria and I will support whomever you choose to love.”

“Bart!”

“Focus, you two.” Victor snapped at us, bringing our attention back to him. “You can find your office a couple doors down from mine. It’s close enough to your offices that they don’t have to make too much of a trip to visit you, and yet far enough away for you to get some quiet while you work.”

Bart leaned over next to me, “And I bet if you leave your door open, you can see Youran come and-” Bart suddenly cut off. I looked over to him. He was frozen in place. I quickly looked at Victor. He was already looking at me, expression riding more into dourness then professionalism. We locked eyes.

“It’s also close enough for you to come to me any time you feel as if you are in danger.” Victor’s voice was stern but gentle at the same time, “It’s windowless so you need not worry about another attack. I also put a guard outside your door to stop any suspicious characters from coming in. You should be safe there.” I frowned.

“Didn’t I tell you specifically not to get a bodyguard?” I deadpanned.

“You were pretty quiet in the car.” Victor continued, ignoring my questions, “Are you well? How are your injuries?”

“I’m alright.” I sighed and touched my side out of habit, “I had a friend help me patch up. Though it was harder to work out at the gym with a cracked rib.” Victor’s eyebrows fell into a knot.

“Are you an idiot?” Victor tactlessly barked. I looked at him, clearly taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“You haven’t even had a full day to recover and you’ve already gone to the gym?!”

“It calms me!”

“How does being in pain calm you?”

I rolled my eyes, “Stop worryi-”

“How can you expect to protect yourself, or anyone for that matter, if you can hardly breathe?” I froze. A sweet smile popped into my mind...

 “...Ok, fine.” I huffed, “I’ll stop going to the gym... For now.” 

“Good.” Victor sounded resolute but something was off about it. I didn’t have time to think about it as Bart finished talking. 

“-go as you please.” I looked over to Bart, shoved his face away, then looked back to Victor.

“Now, for the actual meat of the meeting.” Victor adjusted himself in his chair, “After watching how the both of you run your company this past week, I’ve made two observations. The first being, you two have no control over your employees.” Bart tensed from next to me, “I’ve received countless complaints talking about how your employees have been disruptive in the workplace. From being too loud to leaving messes all over the offices.”

“They're just passionate about their work!” Bart defended.

“Your ‘passion’ is making it hard for LFG’s employees to focus on their own work.” Victor retorted. Bart opened his mouth to speak but I held a hand up to him.

“I’ll have a word with them.” I spoke sternly, “What was your second observation?” Victor trained his eyes on me for a second.

“... There is a potential in this company that LFG would like to underpin.”

Bart and I froze.

>>>

Bart held open the door for me as we stepped out of the office, still in shock. “LFG wants to invest in our company.” Bart whispered to me the moment the door had closed.

“Yup.” I breathed.

“Five hundred thousand dollars.”

“Yup.”

We both stood in silence.

And, as predicted, Bart was the first to break it. 

He started wooping loudly and punching my left arm. “WE DID IT, EVIE!!” He yelled, dancing around the room. “We DID IT!!” Bart continued dancing down the hall, twirling and pumping his fists in the air like a lunatic. I rolled my eyes and walked behind him, heart still bouncing in my chest from the news. Victor actually saw potential in our company. In me. He saw my vulnerable side and didn’t leave. In fact,

He supported it. 

This was all new to me... But, it wasn’t bad. 

I looked out one of the floor to ceiling windows in the hall. It had started raining outside, basking the view of Loveland in a soft gray and cleaning it of what dirt it hid in. I closed my eyes and took in it’s sound against the window as my heart slowly calmed to match the underlying beat of it. 

“Hey, Ike!” Bart called, making me open my eyes once again and turn to him. He was standing in the elevator, holding the doors open for me, “You coming?” I nodded, stealing one last glance through the window.

 I stopped. 

From where I stood, I could see the entrance to LFG where Youran was standing. She looked disgruntled as she looked up at the sky. 

“You go ahead.” My voice drifted softly as I kept my eyes on Youran, “The next time I see the team, I’m going to yell at them for their behavior in the office.”

Bart hissed, “Ah right. Ok! See you soon, Evie!” I nodded lazily as the elevator doors shut.

>>>

By the time I had gotten to the front doors of LFG, Youran had taken a seat on the front steps, resting her head in the palm of one hand and using the other to draw circles on the ground with her finger. I adjusted the grip on the umbrella in my hand and opened the door. Youran’s eyes flashed to me once then landed on me again once she saw who I was. She smiled kindly.

 “Hey!” She chimed, turning to face me better. “It’s Ike, right?” I nodded.

“I thought you had left already.” I said, trying to remain nonchalant. Youran sighed and looked at the rain.

“I didn’t bring an umbrella.” She placed her head back on her hand and pouted, “Even though there was an eighty percent chance of it raining today. Heh, I can be an idiot sometimes.”

“Can’t we all?” I popped open the umbrella in my hand and held it over Youran’s head. She looked at me, shocked. “Come on.” I held out my hand, “I’ll protect you.”

>

Victor watched from his office as Youran accepted Ike’s outstretched hand. She helped the little girl to her feet easily and they both walked down the front steps together. The umbrella was tilted to completely cover Youran’s small body, and, even though Ike’s blazer was getting wet, she didn’t show any signs of changing her position. Victor sighed and shoved his clenched fists into his pockets. “So she does remember her.” Victor spoke to himself as he let his mind wander. Old memories coursed behind his eyes, making his eyebrows furrow deeply.  When the two girls disappeared from his sight, Victor walked to his desk and pulled open a drawer. A folder slid into view. On the tab, in big black letters, it read, 

"BLACK SWAN"

“Perhaps it’s not too late.” Victor lied to himself.

Epilogue:

“S-sir!” Dylan choked, “Sh-she surprised me!! But I got a shot in her! I got her arm!!”

Montu ran to catch up but it was too late. The bike had already driven off and out of sight. They breathed heavily and marched back to the building. Dylan moaned from the floor as he slowly came out of his unconscious state. Montu jumped back into the room, charged over to Dylan, and grabbed his shirt. They raised him in the air as if the six foot man weighed nothing. “What did I say, Dylan?! What did I say about LOSING HER AGAIN?!”

Police sirens cut through the air. Montu cursed. “Sir, the cars.” One of the soldiers pointed out.

“Hit the sewers.” Montu growled, rolling up their sleeves, “I’ll deal with the cars. And lock up this disappointment of a man until otherwise instructed.” The men nodded without hesitation, taking Dylan by the arms. 

“Quit your blathering!!” Montu threw Dylan onto the floor, emanating a loud crack as he landed on his elbow. Dylan screamed and cradled it. “I’ll deal with you further at the base.” Montu spat, glaring distastefully down at him, “And don’t for a second think I’ll let you off as easily as I did before.” Dylan gulped. 

“But it’s true!!” Dylan pleaded his empty case as they dragged him away. “She was hurt when I saw her! I shot the bullet right into her arm!! It stayed there! She was in PAIN!! I SWEAR!!”  Montu removed their mask and rubbed the bridge of their nose, hoping to stifle the rising migraine behind their eyes. 

Unwilling to waste anymore time, Montu focused their attention on the cars. They breathed deeply, creating a rising aura of tense air around them. A soft wind tickled their bangs and brushed the warm blood falling from his forehead. Right as it seemed like something would snap,

Montu raised their hand.

The sound of creaking metal filled the air as each of the cars were lifted from the ground, groaning against the invisible force supporting them.

Montu walked to the window, preparing to leave, when they kicked something on the ground. Looking down, their eyes landed on a tool. 

A grinding tool. 

Pieces of skin were stuck in between it’s blades as drying blood dripped down the side of it. Montu bent to inspect it.

“She was hurt, huh?” Montu’s voice was as smooth as butter as they traced their finger along the tool, “How interesting…”

End of Chapter Four :D

(Next)

[mariinara]

REDAMANCY. (Sam Drake x Reader) PROLOGUE.

A/N: Oh, sweet mother Theresa.. I've been holding this secret for so long. The idea came to me when @the-winchesterboys pitched it as just a fluff request, but I decided to make a whole series out of it. So, I can proudly say that this is a sort of collaboration that gave birth to my first Sam Drake fic. ♡

Tags: @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @missdictatorme , @samdrakeftw , @hrgnm , @purplezebra68 , @s4mdrake , @unchartedterritoria

Summary: You're a retired treasure-hunter who had brief history with Sam before the events of Panama, after which you were heartbroken, but met your current fiance, Connor Walsh. You get an unexpected call from a certain someone, asking you to embark on one last adventure together through London and Morocco to uncover a childhood mystery, during which you confront each other, reflect on your past, and rekindle the relationship that might cost you your pretend peaceful life.

Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama/Comedy

Rating: 18+

(PROLOGUE, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

  Location: United States, Boston suburbs.

                       __________________

Your paint roller glided smoothly across the wall of your new study room, the wetness glistening with the bright ray of sunlight from your open window. You found yourself smiling in comfort whilst covering the white, dusty pasty color with a refreshing coat of the faintest shade of beige: a color that beautifully complimented the oak-wood theme of your furniture. It was also a color that represented conservativeness, neutrality, and serenity-- The very same traits that you’ve decided to embrace as a new years’ resolution. You knew it was going to be by no means an easy task. 

If you would’ve displayed any of those traits in the profession you’d left behind, you would’ve been dead. 

You’ve always been an excessive, adventurous, fiery, driven human being. It ran in your veins-- this treasure-hunting hogwash. Whether your expeditions proved fruitful or not, you grew obsessed with that adrenaline surge that rushed through you. That little thrill that came with uncovering world secrets or stumbling upon a marvelous find. The extreme enjoyment you got out of surviving a situation that so clearly was against your odds. The way goosebumps riddled your sweaty skin as you leaped from one cliff to the other. Holding onto a rope for dear life as you swung across. You got off on those sort of reckless heroics, but ever since you met him and you’d clicked immediately, his docile nature immediately rubbed off on you. 

There you were, painting your study while reminiscing about your time in Shambhala, where you and your fiance-- Connor -- met. He was a journalist who came along with Elena and her cameraman Jeff and, from what the relationship between him and Elena suggested, they were both co-workers and rivals. He’d gotten there to uncover Lazarevic’s malicious plot first and was doing okay until Elena and Jeff showed up. Though the bickering between them was childish, Connor was an extremely calm, collected, and understanding human being when it counted. Besides that, he was smart, clever, focused, practical, and he was handsome in a very nerdy way. 

He looked like your typical, struggling journalist. He was tall, pasty skin and rosy cheeks. Sort of broad and built. Always had a shirt on that was slightly crinkled at the hem, since he’d get sick of having it tucked into his pants and would yank it out. A habit you grew to smile at and shake your head. His bright green, curious eyes were framed with a pair of glasses that only a semi-visually impaired person would wear. The lenses were so thick that they formed sort of a weight on the bridge of his nose that would eventually leave red marks where they sat. 

He was nowhere near your type of man. As far as Nathan - the man whom you took care of for a long time before he stumbled upon Elena - knew, your type happened to be that sort of man with an infuriatingly charming air about him. Tall, broad, had tattoos that held meaning to him only. Thick Boston accent and a shit-eating grin that made you roll your eyes but smile, nonetheless. The kind of man that made you weak in the knees with just a wink or a suggestive eyebrow raise. 

A heartbreaker, who ripped away every shred of happiness when he left you almost sixteen years ago to wallow in self-doubt and pure despair. The type of man who both gave meaning to your life at one point, but ended up completely ruining you at another. And by the time he’d made a surprising appearance in your lives, you were a changed woman who had a loving boyfriend who made you forget about all of your past troubles. Your heart aches and most of all, Samuel Drake.

It was a little over a year ago since the last time you'd seen him and though Connor had no idea about your past, Sam had a pretty good picture about your relationship with Connor. Boyfriend of almost six years, about to be engaged to you. The works. 

Sam felt like a complete stranger to you and you were no longer the woman he'd fallen in love with. Or at least you thought so. 

He was so foreign to you, even though he was the exact same person. But you were simply not. Back at Libertalia, you couldn't even bear to talk to him for more than a minute and you didn't know why. It was like talking to a phantom. A figment of your imagination. Looking at him reminded you of all the days you couldn't breathe when his memorial day rolled in every year. It reminded you how broken and dysfunctional you were for the first five years of him not holding you or saying something clever to make you laugh in utter embarrassment. It made you remember how cold you were when you slept on the bed you once shared with him, with his side of the bed empty and untouched for years on end. The years and years of therapy and PTSD. 

Looking at him reminded you of everything that you worked so hard to forget and while you knew that it wasn't fair for him, it was just as unfair to you. 

You finally had your life together and you didn't want anything or anyone standing in the way.

Not even him. 

The fact that you'd parted ways on a bad note as well the last time you'd seen each other didn't at all help. 

Libertalia was an adventure you thoroughly enjoyed and loved deeply. You even had some souvenirs and trinkets from there. But the reason you went there altogether was because you didn't want Sam to die again. To leave you and Nathan. The incentive was purely dutiful since you grew up with both of them, but nothing more. 

Or at least you thought so.

You took a few steps back, your eyes studying the freshly painted wall. Slowly, a satisfied smile crept up to your lips as you wiped your forehead from the sweat, being careful so as to not get your paint-covered fingers on your face. Your hands then wiped against the front of your stained apron with a deep sigh, "God, I'm good." You told yourself with a proud smirk and whipped your head around once you heard the sound of a heavy, cardboard box slump on the floor. Your eyes trailed up to be met with Connor's green ones and he smiled as he stretched his back and walked towards you. He was standing next to you, his arm around your waist, holding you close to his side as he stared at your handiwork.

"Wow.." He chuckled with an impressed nod, "This looks great."

You rested your head on his shoulder, a big smile on your face, "You sound surprised." 

He paused a little, "I am–" You lifted your head and playfully glared at him, making him laugh lightly, "Just a little. Calm down..!" 

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you patted his ass with your dry paint-covered hand and he jumped a little, letting out a small surprised noise, "Alright, then, nerd." You ripped yourself from him and looked around, seeing all those boxes that you needed to empty. They were covering the floor from the entrance of the study to the hallway outside and even the kitchen's island had smaller boxes on top, full of utensils and everything from the kitchen of your old apartment, "That's all of 'em?" You asked, sort of hopeful that you wouldn't have to unpack another one of those nightmares.

"Yep." Connor responded, "I'm hungry, though. How 'bout dinner first?" He suggested and you couldn't be more relieved since you were starved.

"Sounds good."

Your fiance smiled sweetly at you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips that lasted for a while before he pulled away, "I'll go get started with the kitchen stuff, then."

You smiled back at him, your eyes trailing down to look at the messy collar of his shirt, only for your hand to adjust it and smoothen down the shoulders, "Alright, dear."

And he was off to the kitchen, maneuvering around boxes as he did. You watched him for a couple of seconds, feeling as if your life was finally falling into place. That everything was perfect. That you were healed.

As if God didn't want that for you, your cellphone rang in your back pocket, almost startling you. With an exasperated sigh, you untied your apron and crumpled it in your hands, reaching in for your phone with the other. 

Upon seeing the caller ID, your demons crawled back up to gnaw the back of your brain. Your eyes widened briefly and you glanced towards the empty hallway Connor passed through earlier. You contemplated not answering, but knowing him, he was probably in trouble.

Your thumb hovered above the 'reject' icon, your brows furrowed and your heart thumping violently against your ribcage, as if begging to jump out. And against your better judgement, you swiped the 'accept' icon, pulling the phone to your ear slowly and giving your back to the door. 

You heard what sounded like a sigh of relief on the other line. 

"I thought you'd never answer."

You paused for a second, rubbing your forehead with your fingers, "It was tempting."

He chuckled, somewhat bitterly, "Why didn't you?"

You rested your hand on your hip, your eyes flickering all around the room, as if searching for an answer, but you found yourself talking without even thinking, "Because I feel obligated not to." You responded, "You don't usually call, either, so you must be in some sort of trouble."

You heard silence from him for a second, "You know why I don't call. I dunno how your guy would react."

You raised a brow, glancing over your shoulder at the door to make sure Connor wasn't close, "And you thought now's a good time because..?"

"Because I need you."

You inhaled deeply at his reply. A dreadful feeling resided in the pit of your stomach. Something about the way he said that didn't rest well with you, but you knew what he meant.

You looked up to the ceiling, trying your best to bite back a mean response, "What do you want, Sam?"

"Right.." You heard shuffling on his end, sounding like papers and clanking glass, "I'll get to the point."

"Please."

"Remember when we were younger? That book I used to love."

Of course you remembered. You'd stay up all night with Sam, sitting on a bench under streetlights, listening to his stories from the book he so loved. He was so theatrical, acting everything out, doing the pirate accents, deepening his voice, hiding one eye with his hand to give the effect of an eye patch.

How could you possibly forget?

"A general history of the robberies and murders of the most notorious pirates." You responded with a small, wistful smile that you weren't aware of, "Yeah."

"Remember when I said how it was complete bullshit?" 

"You were pretty disappointed.." You muttered in amusement, going over to your desk to sit on the edge.

Sam chuckled lightly, "Then you remember my never-ending babbling about Red Rackham's treasure."

"Sam." You stopped him, feeling the uncomfortable feeling bubbling up to claw at your chest, "Where's this going?" You cautiously asked, narrowing your eyes at nothing in particular.

Another long pause came from him, and with each passing second, you felt your anxiety bubble up more.

"I know where it got sunk."

"Where what got sunk?"

"The unicorn."

You pinched the bridge of your nose at the familiar name of the sunken pirate ship and shook your head, "You can't possibly be doing this on my moving day." You tried to keep your voice low but your dismay was extremely clear and you could almost see him frowning at your tone.

"Moving day?" He asked. You suddenly remembered how transparent he was. He did no effort to hide his bitterness and you could so clearly hear it.

You shook your head and decided to divert the subject, "I don't do that kinda thing anymore, Sam. You know that." 

He snorted, "Since when?"

"Since Libertalia." You retorted, "Since Connor, Sam. He doesn't do that sorta thing, either."

"That–That is good for him, but I know for a fact that that's not who you are."

You let out a humourless laugh and threw your hand up in frustration, "I'm not waiting for you to tell me who I am; I know what I want."

"No, you don't."

You were about to snap at him, but something stopped you. What would you say to that? Was this really who you were? The way Sam put it made you doubt almost everything. 

"Doesn't matter, Sam. I'm happy, okay?"

"You may be now, but the more you fight it, the more you're gonna hate him and hate your life, sweetheart." 

"What are you trying to do?" You asked, in a surrendered voice, your hand tightening around your phone.

"Give you a chance." He replied easily, not even giving it a thought, "This is our story. Our treasure. You were obsessed with this as much as I was. Your journal, your hand drawn maps.." He paused, "I still have 'em.."

You shook your head, feeling your resolve crumble with the sentence he added at the end, looking down at your feet, "What am I gonna tell Connor..?"

"You'll figure somethin' out." He said, his voice a bit hopeful, knowing that he broke your thick skin a bit, "C'mon. Whaddya say..? You and me. One last time?"

You inhaled deeply. 

He was right. You have been obsessed with finding that treasure for the longest time as wanderlust-struck teenagers. It was like your Everest. But you never got around to it, since it all reminded you of him. You didn't want to embark on that journey without him by your side. And now that he was there, you could finally finish the book of journeys. To fulfill the last of your wishes. 

Maybe then you'd be able to live happily with Connor, without having to deal with the burden of having something missing.

And so, you smiled and nodded to yourself, "Okay." You responded simply, earning a relieved chuckle from him, "Sully's gonna be there, though, right?"

"You could say that."

You frowned, "What's that mean?" 

"He'll be there at some point." He vaguely replied, making you roll your eyes, "Just make sure you're there by tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night..?" You asked, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, feeling the fatigue roll over you stronger than ever, "Where do I need to go?"

"London. Bloomsbury." 

You ripped a paper from your notebook, holding the phone against your ear with your shoulder, and grabbed a pen, yanking off the cover with your teeth and writing down the address.

"Okay.." You muttered.

"Euro hotel. The room's under Victor's name. You know what to do."

You felt your heart beating faster as you wrote the last letter, with the small P.S. about the reservation name. 

You let out a shaky breath and held the phone in your hand again, straightening up, "Got it. I'll be there at nine."

"Perfect." You could practically hear the grin in his voice, "See ya soon, sweetheart." 

You smiled softly and nodded, "See you soon.." 

You held the phone against your ear until it went blank and that's when you realized what you've just gotten yourself into.

There you were again. With no self-control when you heard the words treasure and adventure. You were so caught up in the childhood memories that you didn't think of what you'd actually tell Connor and, for some reason, the truth wasn't an option.. 

You heard him calling out your name from the kitchen and you quickly whipped your head towards the door, inhaling deeply to calm your jagged nerves. You found yourself fiddling with the engagement ring on your finger and you looked down at your hands, pursing your lips together tightly.

'No backing out now..' You thought.

You exhaled and forced a smile to your face, "Comin', honey!" You called out cheerfully, quickly stuffing the note with the address in your back pocket, hurrying out of the study room.

[finallyaniguana]

Watch The Eyes: Honesty to an Extent [11]

[10]     masterpost     ao3     [12]

"I'm sorry I couldn't make yours too, Adrien," she looked over at him, still standing in the doorway.

He clicked the door shut.

"That's okay, Mari. You know how my père is. Can't have the face of his company repping another designer. Especially one no one knows the identity of yet," he winked.

Her face warmed with pride. She was making a name for MDC in the entertainment industry, mostly doing tour pieces here and there for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. Those outfits were starting to get recognition by designers wanting to recruit the new up and coming talent.

After she was done showing off Marinette's hard work, Alya cleared her throat and looked at the designer meaningfully.

Marinette met her gaze, standing a little taller as if in challenge. Alya quirked an eyebrow, meaning the behavior did not go unnoticed. There was a solid ten seconds of staring before Nino cleared his throat too, trying to end the silent stand off.

Just as quiet as the stare down started, Marinette conceded, agreeing to share her news with the boys with a nod.

"I just recently found out I have a soulmate," she said matter of factly.

If Nino had been drinking something, he would have choked. Adrien was rather convincing pretending he didn't already know.

"What?! This is huge!" Nino exclaimed, excited for his childhood friend. "How did you find out?"

Alya glared down at her.

"On my birthday-"

Nino interrupted.

"But that was two weeks ago!"

Adrien shushed him, ignoring Alya's squint, imploring Marinette to go on.

"I switched bodies with him."

The boys thought for a second before Adrien spoke.

"I think I've heard of that... it's super rare," he said with the last of the awe summoned from the first time she told him.

"That would definitely explain why you don't have any marks or anything. Wow. I can't believe it, Mari. Congratulations," Nino said.

"So," Alya prompted. "What's the next step to finding him?"

Marinette scrunched up her nose at Alya's questioning. She sighed.

"Well, all the information I could find on this bond says I should meet them this year. I don't have to go find him or anything like that," she offered.

"Anything else?" she asked innocently.

"He does not have blue eyes." 'They're green.'

Alya looked confused before frowning at her and raising her eyebrows.

Marinette sighed again.

"He is from the United States. So, I will most likely meet him here. In Gotham. Since, you know, I don't have any other trips planned."

Nino stood stock still, his eyes blown wide.

"So soon?" he croaked out.

Alya nodded with a wicked smile.

"Which means Marinette has to leave the hotel everyday looking like the absolute goddess she is! We are watching out for our girl these next few weeks. He is going to love her!" the reporter said with conviction.

Marinette was grateful to have such... passionate friends. But there was the whole "secret identity" issue to work past. That was something she hadn't even told Adrien about. She didn't want to betray his trust before she ever had it. There was no telling whether or not 'Robin' would be accepting of her as an addition to his life. He wouldn't be the first to reject their soulmate and probably not the last. It was always sad when that happened. She didn't want that to be her, so she was going to do every she could to earn the vigilante's trust.

"He should recognize any of you. It happened right before "we" all walked to the park," Marinette informed them.

"Hold up, hold up. We were with you? How did we not notice something was up?" Nino looked shocked.

"He must be a good actor?" Adrien supplied.

Nino looked as though his mind had been blown. Alya jumped up and down and started animatedly explaining her plan for success to the two boys. Marinette just sat shaking her head.

"There is a boy out there who knows all of our lovely faces except Marinette's! Do not let him go unnoticed!"

Their little group eventually parted ways after listening to nearly a half an hour of Alya instructing the two boys on how to watch out for her best friend to make sure her meeting with her soulmate was perfect. Unfortunately, neither Alya or Marinette could answer any of Nino's questions; Alya, because she didn't have the answers and Marinette because she was pretending to not have answers. Adrien elected to keep his mouth shut, lest Alya become suspicious of his extensive knowledge of this bond.

Back in the hallway, the taller of the two let out one last warning.

"If you don't walk out of that room tomorrow in your absolute best. I am turning you around and picking for you."

Marinette rolled her eyes.

"Please, Alya, I doubt I'm going to be meeting my soulmate on a tour of Wayne Enterprises," she laughed.

"Better safe than sorry, babe. Goodnight!" Alya shut her door with a click.

MDC stared at the door her friend disappeared through, suddenly apprehensive knowing Lila was on the other side. She was probably going to ask about the dress. Alya shouldn't say anything. She knew what secrets she was supposed to keep. But it still worried her. She unlocked her own door and disappeared through it, the hallway now quiet.

"I'm glad Alya wasn't too mad at me, huh, Tikki," she said at last.

"Of course she wouldn't be too mad, Marinette! She's your best friend!" Tikki said back encouragingly.

As she got ready for bed, she finished unpacking the rest of her things, including the unfinished skirt and bodice of her gala dress, which she carefully hung in the closet.

"Tikki... have you seen my phone charger?" Marinette asked.

The little goddess blinked at her before shaking her head. The teen then proceeded to drop her face into her hands.

"Of course," she groaned around her fingers. "It's already almost 11 o'clock, so I don't think I'll be able to borrow from Alya."

Tikki flew over, patting her holder on the cheek.

"It's official, Tikki," she abandoned her face's perch in her hands in favor of staring deadpan at the ceiling. "I'm the disaster."

It was unclear to Tikki whether she should laugh or continue to comfort the girl. She she did both.

"It's not a big deal Marinette. We'll just get one tomorrow. I over heard Mlle. Bustier and Richard saying there is room on the schedule to look around Gotham for a bit. The safer parts of Gotham of course!" she giggled.

Marinette smiled gratefully at the little fairy before finishing up her routine, save plugging in her phone. She did set an alarm though, in hopes that what little battery she had left would last through the night.

Marinette laid out an outfit she was sure Alya wouldn't turn away. While packing, she had to resist the urge to pack much darker colors instead of her trademark pinks. She was going to tour Wayne Enterprises in a floral print grey skirt that ended a little above the knee paired with a soft pink sweater to match the flowers. She also set aside black tights and a pair of boot socks to complete it. Her comfortable black boots would be good for the amount of walking her class was sure to be going the next day. Nodding her head, satisfied, she turned her head to Tikki.

"What do you think? Good?"

Tikki smiled and nodded.

She laid it all out over the armchair in the corner. Stretching, she climbed under the covers of the full size bed. It was not near as comfortable as sleeping in her room, but it certainly exceeded expectations. She clicked off the bedside lamp she had been using.

Tikki settled down on the pillow next to the girl's head.

"Goodnight, Marinette."

"Goodnight, Tikki."

That night, Marinette had difficulty sleeping. All she could do was stare at the ceiling, straight as a board, thinking. She was suddenly uncomfortable in her usual sprawled out position that she usually slept in. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, running through every possibility for error and coming up with a contingency plan for every one. At three am, frustrated and tired, Marinette got up, leaving Tikki sleeping soundly on her pillow. She slipped on her flats, grabbing her room key and sketchbook on the way to the door. If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well do something productive. Tiptoeing out into the hall, Marinette glanced around the dim passage.

The building was an eerie quiet. It reminded Marinette of the silence when an akuma is nowhere to be seen, but certainly nearby.

Perhaps it was because she was already tense about her soulmate, or maybe it was because she knew what lurked in Gotham's dark.

'You may not rest now, there are monsters nearby.'

She snorted and rolled her eyes at the bad joke she made to herself.

She wasn't dumb. In addition to her research on Bruce Wayne, the scholarship provider, she also tried to learn as much as she could about his city. Dangerous even during the daytime. Even more dangerous at night. Villains attacking every other day.

It used to be like that in Paris before Hawkmoth started taking fairly long breathers in between each attack.

The main difference was Gotham's heroes didn't have superpowers to protect them. No miraculous cure to bring back those caught up in the attack. If one of them lost their life out there... there was no coming back from it (presumably). That only increased her apprehension about meeting her elusive soulmate. Every day he put on a mask and jumped off a building. Being a vigilante is by no means safe. What if one day he goes out and never comes back and Marinette never gets the chance to meet him? She wasn't sure she could handle that.

She was sure footed down the hall way, evenly stepping where she was sure she wouldn't make any noise. The stealth was unexpected but involuntary, something in her encouraging her to blend into the shadows and not be seen. Her feet were moving of their own volition away from her room, no set course in mind. Marinette supposed she would wander the hotel until she found something of worth to bring out her creativity.

She found herself standing at a set of sliding glass doors leading to a balcony. Looking out, the city lights twinkling in the hazy blackness before her. No matter how creepy she thought Gotham looked in the day time, it was much worse at night. Beautiful in its own way but still creepy. But it was somehow refreshing to the unrelenting cheer and positivity The City of Lights instilled. Gotham had no such luxury and accepted as a whole its role in the world. It was a hub for crime.

Eyes unblinking, Marinette stared out over the city her soulmate lived in. Batman's city. She opened her sketch book to a new page and began to put down her ideas. A charcoal grey suit sewn with metallic silver accents. Sharp lines made way into a flowing dress beside it, halter with a low cut v neckline. The skirt of the dress carefully stitched with gold and silver beads for stars in a wide scatter at the bottom, following a line up to one side of the halter strap growing closer and closer together the higher you went.

An unexpected light flashed ahead of her in the night. The sky was lit up with a powerful spot that could only mean one thing. Batman was needed. Marinette waited, completely still.

Far in the distance, she saw them. Bounding over rooftops as if someone would catch them if they fell. Of course it was too dark and much too far away to see who was out there. He could be out there. A less observant person would have missed them all together, but after years of fighting akumas, she was adept at noticing the small things.

Suddenly overwhelmed, Marinette shut her sketchbook with a satisfying smack before turning on her heel and heading back down the hall the way she came. It was a wonder she hadn’t gotten herself lost. The hallways were even quieter than before, as though the walls themselves could witness her inner turmoil. She was hiding it well. All her emotions were carefully tucked away behind a neutral mask. Can't show weakness.

Back in her own hallway, she was startled out of her stupor by a figure standing there. Lila.

Marinette had no idea how Lila knew she would be awake or walking around. She was just standing there, hands behind her back, lifting herself up on her toes then back down again. She had her hair tied up in a neat sock bun.

'Ha. You look weird without your sausages.'

"What is that supposed to mean?" Lila snarled.

"Oh, did I say that out loud? Terribly rude of me," she gave the taller girl a tired smirk before attempting to walk on past her.

Lila put out her arms to prevent Mari from moving any further forward.

'End this.'

Marinette blinked that unexpected thought away. Aggression wasn't the answer.

"Where were you, Mari, sweetie? I was worried you'd gotten kidnapped by a villain or something!"

"Ugh. You wish. Excuse me, I'd like to return to my room."

Everything about this girl brought out the worst in the usually sweet designer.

"It really would be a shame if Mlle. Bustier found out her class president was wandering the halls at night. Come now, Marinette, you know that's against the rules."

She rolled her eyes at the weak threat. There wasn't much Lila could do to her, but if she thought this would make her trip even a degree worse, she would do it.

"How would you know I was wandering the halls unless you were too?" she asked lightly.

The liar's expression soured.

"You aren’t going to ruin this trip for me, so I’m going to give you one last chance. It wouldn't hurt to just play along, would it? It's not like you have any proof. It's your word against mine and who would believe a nobody like you?" Lila taunted.

"Move."

"How do you want to go down? As the worst class president in history? Worst friend in history? I can make that happen. Just keep up your little charade and it won't be a problem."

Marinette's frown deepened.

"I'm not the one playing charades. You are. And you look ridiculous."

Lila scoffed with disdain at the insult.

"I wouldn't even bother getting up tomorrow. You and your little trashy designs aren't going to impress anyone. That's probably why you don't have a soulmate. Nobody would be able to put up with your self righteous crap," Lila sniffed.

Marinette stood straight, staring past the Italian and down the hallway. Her eyes narrowed the more she spoke.

"How much do you think it will take to make Alya hate you? Would you like to find out? I can start on that tomo-"

"Stop speaking."

She looked into the girl's contempt filled olive green eyes.

"I'm not some little girl who you can intimidate, Rossi. I would suggest backing off before you end up regretting your actions."

She brushed past the girl, leaving her struck frozen in the hallway. She had no idea where that burst of angry confidence came from. She only hoped it would help and not hurt whatever came next.

@vixen-uchiha @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @violatiger8 @mochinek0 @constancetruggle @yamadochie @seraphichana @captainmac6 @nataladriana9 @iggy-of-fans @riarkle-felinettelove @luciferge @mystery-5-5 @mellownieice @northernbluetongue @imanerddealwith @ayuchan07 @poshplumcot @annabellabrookes @legendaryneckjudgestudent @chez-pezeater @friedchickening @da-tasuky @crazylittlemunchkin @g-arya @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @witchbitch1998 @theatreandcomicfreak @lysslovsanime @zalladane @tbehartoo @goggles-mcgee @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @melicmusicmagic @reichi-vogart @ladybug-182 @chaosace @mariae2900 @vivilakitty @xxmadamjinxx @akbtch @7701deathlyhalfbloodprincess @elspethshadow @danielslilangel @tinyterror333 @maynora @anjuschiffer @creator-josie @thecatnipmademedoit @jessigurl-design @allolale @caffeine-theory @zerotosiki @draco-kasai @schrodingers25 @cassiejaydee @synnesstra @oscarwilde-hellyeah @valeks-princess @winter-gardenflower @novicevoice @cadencehood @sassy-spocko @rogueptoridactyl @dast218 @kae690 @thequestionablyhuman @18-fandoms-unite-08 @beaversuenightly @graduatedmelon @dur55 @gaylord1027 @fertileleaf @bamagirl513 @kurogaya913 @littleblue5mcdork @completelypeccable @sassydepression @resignedcatservant @batmans-attic @linnyalou @shreky-boi @actual-disaster-human @kandi-pie @gingersnapnoir @disneyfoxuniverse @souleateralicestein @kand-roo

so I figured out the reason my tag list was getting capped is because I was using mobile. so I decided not to be a dumb dumb anymore and will do my best to update from my computer instead. im working on a masterlist so stay tuned for that. I hope you enjoyed!

[gloves94]

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 36

Warnings: FLUFF AHEAD Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Zuko/OC  

Sunburn Chapter M A S T E R L I S T My fan fiction M A S T E R L I S T

"I still can't believe I didn't come out!" Mecha complained as he leaned on the kitchen's counter sulking, about his missing appearance on The Boy in the Iceberg.

"Maybe you'll get your own spin off!" His sister said optimistically as she poured some orange blossom chamomile tea on a cup for him. It was late and the group had been emotionally drained by the time they returned from the theatre. "I mean your days in the Earth Kingdom were no walk in the park, don't even get me started on your scars." She said mentioning the lightning vines that marked his body.

"You think Mai will think they are cool?"  He said looking down at his scarred arm with a dumb grin on his face. "I'm sure she'll lovethem." His sister rolled her eyes and took a sip from her own tea.

Attending to see The Boy in the Iceberghad been a terrible idea and had brought everybody's spirits down. Presently Mecha was trying to make his sister feel better by sharing a midnight cup of tea with her. It seemed like the rest of the gang was asleep. When suddenly the two heard the beach house's front doors open and close. They listened to the approaching footsteps and their mysterious guest entered the small kitchen.

He looked slightly out of breath and not like he had just been sleeping in the least.

"Zuko?" Her brother asked raising an eyebrow. "Where were you?" Tsai asked knowingly, observing he had obviously gone on a little night field trip by himself.

Their eyes met and he inhaled a deep breath.

xxx

Somewhere on the island playwright Pu On Tim author of The Boy in the Iceberg arrived home that evening and to his horror found that everything he loved and owned had either been shredded to bits and pieces or scorched into ashes by fire. He shrieked in fright as he dropped to his knees all of his works, his livelihood, his plays! All destroyed!

xxx

"Nowhere," he answered mysteriously. A blatant lie at that.

"Did you guys hear something?" Mecha asked looking over his shoulder. He could've sworn he heard a distant scream echoing somewhere in Ember Island.

"Right.…"She said narrowing her eyes in suspicion yet deciding to drop the topic. "Do you want some tea?" She asked awkwardly. "Sure," he said softly before walking around the kitchen island counter and taking a seat on the stool next to her. It didn't take a genius to sense the tension that still lingered around the two of them.

"Phew, will you look at the time." Her brother whistled out taking his cup of tea with him as he walked out of the kitchen. “You know what they say early to bed early to rise." He said awkwardly. "Got to go…." He said slowly sliding out of the kitchen area. Of course, not before flashing Zuko a deathly glare which only he caught.

She poured some tea in another cup and he thanked her for it taking a small sip.

There was a heavy silence between them.

"The play.…The actors. Geez, they were terrible. I've seen better shows at the colonial festival. Can't believe they would do that to Love Amongst the Dragons." She broke the silence.

"Yeah," He let out a humorous huff.

Both took an awkward sip of their teas glancing away from each other.

"We should watch it one day. Love Amongst the Dragons?" He suggested quietly. "I'd like that!" she said genuinely at the idea of them going back and seeing an actually decent production in a theater. "When did you have in mind? Before or after your dad makes roast kabobs out of us?" She finished in a pessimistic tone lowering her teacup.

"Let's be real you'd be fine." He smirked a little. If anybody could survive a fire blast from anyone id would be her.

She shook her head and couldn't help but smile a little. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and let his hand rest there for a moment. It was nice. This was nice. Having him in her life again like this. Especially now that he was so grown. It was almost as if he was a completely different person than when they had first met…

"It's because of the comet right?" She looked at him oddly snapping out of her train of thought. "The reason why you haven't been sleeping well."

She let out a draining exhale and pressed her forehead against the counter holding the top of her head. He looked around agonizingly. Zuko wasn't good at comforting people. What was he supposed to do? His eyes scanned the room looking for an answer.

'What would Uncle do?'He thought to himself in a brief moment of panic.

"Here," he poured more tea into her cup. "Drink this," he said putting the warm cup in her hand. She rolled her head to the side and looked at him with a weak smile.

"I just have this awful gut-wrenching feeling about that day." She closed her eyes for a moment and once again saw the red skies, the ash raining as destruction and fire consumed the world. "And nobody seems to be taking it seriously. Aang doesn't seem to care, and it's-it's just so stressful." She poured out to him. In a venting fashion.

She shrugged her shoulders a little in an attempt to emotionally compose herself and sit up straight taking a small sip of her tea. As she attempted to push all fear to the back of her head. "You're not wrong to worry." He said comfortingly. She turned at him and felt a flood of emotions pour out. How had he managed to become this person? How had he managed to make her fall so deeply and unmistakably in love with him? She couldn't help but think about the first time they met. Never in a million years would she have imagined that she would feel this way about the irritable prince. She leaned forward craving for more of his comfort. More of him and hugged him tightly. She buried her face on his shoulder. He hugged her back.

"I love-" She was surprised when she was interrupted by a loud, brash shush.

Pulling away from the hug she looked at him confused. "Don't. Don't say it." He said to her in all seriousness both of his hands on her shoulders. She looked at him perplexed.

"You're acting as if we're going to die." He said to her, his brows knotting in concern.

"What if we are. What if we do die?"

He shook his head lightly and closed his eyes not wanting to think about such an abhorrent outcome. No. That would not happen. Hewould notlet it happen. "We won’t." He insisted his grip tightened on her shoulders fingers sinking into her skin.

"But what if we do?" She insisted. A cocktail of strong emotions reflected on her eyes. An exasperated expression on her face.

His molten golden eyes met her light brown ones and they starred intensely at each other. Almost like a show down. Both waiting for the other to make the next move. Who would shoot first?

He saw her open her mouth slightly and clamped a hand over it before she could speak. She let out a muffled sound and looked at him fiercely. "Don't. Say. It. Tsai." He growled out every word separately his face inching dangerously close to hers.

Her eyes narrowed intensely. The slightest of sly smiles playing on his lips. She was determined to say it. She had spent so much time plotting and worrying over how she would confess her feelings for him just for him to have this type of ridiculous reaction? It wasn't fair.

She reached for his hand and removed it from her mouth roughly. She caught the other halfway as he reached for her. She barely managed to get a word out before he silenced her. Roughly smashing his lips against hers. She couldn't help but laugh a little. The impulse so strong it knocked her off her seat. The stool noisily clattering to the floor.

They both fell to the kitchen floor ungracefully.

“Are you okay?” He asked gruffly landing on top of her. He still held both of her hands in his and held them against the floor next to both sides of her head.

She ignored the slight ache from the impact against the floor.

“Zuko I lo-“She was determined. Again, he interrupted her. He kissed her again to silence her and she sighed content relaxing into his warm touch. She wanted to touch him, to hold him, to run her hands through this hair. Maybe pull at it a little…

He pulled away and looked at her with such an emotion that she suddenly felt vulnerable under his golden gaze.  She could feel his thumb stroking the side of her hand gently. She didn’t know someone could ever look at another person with such burning intensity.

“I know.” He admitted his voice gentle, tone soft almost like a whisper. “Tsai. I know.” He repeated. “Don’t say it." He asked her. "Sometimes you don’t have to say anything.”

He removed himself off her and she sat up slightly leaning towards him. She smiled at him sweetly and inclining forward touching his face with her free hand gently.

“You’re right.” She agreed. “Sometimes you just have to feel it.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his face again.

He stood up sluggishly, hoisting her up both still in each other’s arms bringing her to her feet as well.

“It’s late, let’s go to bed.” He mumbled against her arm.

“I won’t be able to.” She said letting go of him and turning away. She already knew that her insomnia will get the best of her. “Come on.” He said with a small love-struck grin as he placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her to her room.

Xxxx

"More ferocious!" Zuko barked, crossing his arms and frowning sternly as he scrutinized over the Avatar’s firebending forms.

Aang furrowed his brow in concentration as he swung his arms, bending arcs of fire from his hands medium flames spitting out. Zuko narrowed his eyes as Aang walked past him, shooting short bursts of fires from his fists.

"Imagine striking through your opponent's heart!"

Aang firebended a large blast in front of him then whirled around to face his firebending teacher, he threw his arms out in frustration. "Ugh! I'm trying. I'm trying!"

"Now let me hear you roar like a tiger-dillo!" Zuko ordered ignoring his student’s complains.

Aang growled and spun away from his teacher, stretching his arms out to the side and throwing his head back as he roared softly, weak streams of fire coming out of his palms and mouth.

"That was pathetic!” His teacher pressed angrily. “I said roar!" He ordered himself roaring as he barked out the command.

You’d think that after last night the prince would be in a better mood. However, it was of imperial importance for Aang to fully master fire bending. Hell, the fate of the world depended on it and there really was no time to waste. Sozin’s comet would be here in three days’ time.

Aang narrowed his eyes in concentration, a determined look on his face as he spun back around, flung his arms out to the side. He tossed his head back, letting out a tiger-dillo worthy ferocious roar out. Fire spewed from his palms and mouth in a violent outburst of flames.

Momo screeched and scurried towards Zuko, hiding behind his legs and lowering his ears in fear.

Zuko crossed his arms and smirked slightly, nodding in approval at his student.

"Who wants a nice, cool glass of watermelon juice?" Katara called out as she finished filling two hollowed out watermelons, holding them up with a sweet smile. It was a particularly hot day making the beads of juice dripping down the curve of the watermelons impossible to resists.

"Ooh, ooh!" Aang turned around with an excited look on his face. His mouth watering at the thought of the refreshing beverage.  "Me, me, me!"

"Hey!" Zuko barked in annoyance, grabbing the back of Aang's sash when he tried to run towards the melon drink. "Your lesson is not over yet!" He held Aang up in a halt.  The younger boy struggled to break free, scowling as he snapped, "Get back here."

"What's the big deal? It's just a short break." Suki shrugged.

“Yeah, and it’s super-hot.” Mecha added before taking a sip from his own watermelon.

"Fine." Zuko scowled. He released Aang and crossed his arms as the young boy dashed up the stairs the fastest that anybody had ever seen him move. He took the watermelon Katara held out to him and drank it greedily enjoying every sip of the refreshing beverage.

"If you want to lounge around like a bunch of snail-sloths all day, then go ahead!" Zuko said barked angrily addressing the group before shaking his head and walking past them and back inside the beach house.

"Maybe Zuko's right." Sokka commented mindlessly. "Sitting around the house has made us pretty lazy. But I know just the thing to do." He set his watermelon aside and stood up slowly before impulsively removing his clothes revealing a pair of shorts underneath. Woah Sokka was ready to go!

"Beach party!"

Xxx

Tsai sat in the kitchen alone enjoying two slices of toast with peanut butter and fire banana slices.

“Good morning,” she said with a sweet smile when Zuko walked into the kitchen.

For what seemed like the first time in forever she actually slept more than seven hours. Even woke up late which was a refreshing change compared to all of the disturbing sleepless nights she had endured.

“I can’t believe he’s not taking this seriously!” The other stepped into the kitchen frustrated and took a seat across from her. “Uh? Bad morning?” She questioned raising an eyebrow.

“It’s Aang.” He sighed sounding frustrated. “You’re right. Everybody is laying around like snail-sloths while the Fire Lord is planning a massive invasion in three days.”

Zuko looked at her oddly when he heard her coughing beating her chest hard as her food went down her windpipe. “What?” She choked in surprise; her eyes wide ‘THREE DAYS?’. He looked at her oddly. “I thought you knew?”

Just like that she lost her appetite. The stress once again knotting in her back.

“The day before the eclipse. Do you remember the meeting I had with my father?”

She nodded slowly following as she did memory of the day before the Black Sun.

“Sozin’s Comet will endow firebenders with the strength and power of a thousand suns. Nobody will stand a chance. My great-grandfather used the comet to wipe out the Air Nomads now my father wants to use it to wipe out the Earth Kingdom. Permanently.”

“What?” seemed to be the only word she could manage to say. Her palms growing sweaty as her mind was once again clouded with that vision of raining ash and a burning sky… It made sense now.

“And you didn’t say anything?!” She said her tone louder than she intended.

“I wanted to speak out against his horrifying plan,” he said quietly bowing his head with shame. “But I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t. You know that my whole life I struggled to gain my father’s love and acceptance, and once I had it. I realized I lost myself getting there. I had forgotten who I was.”

She looked at him with an outraged expression.

“Where’s Aang?” She said rising to her feet.

“I overheard Sokka saying they were going to the beach.”

“… bunch of lazy snail-sloths…” She grumbled under her breath and he saw her reach for the kitchen knife she had used to prepare her breakfast and rush out of the beach house.

Aang wasn’t taking this seriously enough. All he was thinking about was ways to woo Katara and beach parties when the world was about to end in just a couple of days.

“Tsai!” He called after her. “What are you doing?” He asked when he caught up to her. Her strides long and determined as she crossed the center courtyard. “I’m going to teach Aang a lesson.” She said darkly.

She continued in her strides but came to a brief halt. She brushed her hair out of her forehead and let out a sharp breath.

“Doesn’t it make you just want to- “She made a frustrated sound and opened and closed her hands in an aggressive comical gesture “Doesn’t it just makes your blood boil?Aang doesn’t stand a chance fighting the Father Lord!”

“Maybe not, but you do.”

“Me?!” She stepped back. Defeating the Fire Lord was nother destiny. It was Aang’s. Hewas the Avatar. It was hisduty to bring peace and balance to the unstable world that they lived in. Her destiny - She was the Spirit of the Sun and just another girl from the Fire Nation colonies – but her destiny… That was a whole other matter that she still hadn’t pieced together. “Why do you look so shocked? You did break his nose.”

“It was a lucky shot!” She protested. “Besides yeah maybe I can walk through fire but one shock,” she extended out her hand pretending to blast a bolt of lightning at him. “And I’m toast!”

She dropped her arms to the side and shook her head. “If the best I can do is make Aang take things a little more seriously then so be it.”

She pouted a little arm crossed over her chest, butter knife still at hand. “Want to help?”

Xxx

They looked at them sunbathing, surfing, building sandcastles and shapes in the sand. Her type A personality felt triggered by the slacking off. “I’ll take the high-ground.”

Sokka, Aang and Toph were currently looking standing around a massive monster sand blob it seemed like they were laughing at it or at Sokka. Not like it mattered. Aang was about to eat a mouthful of sand.

They watched him like predators. He was scratching his head in confusion pointing at the sand blob saying something.

“Aah!” He yelped shielding himself when a hot burst of fire destroyed the sand sculpture making a sandstorm rain. He turned gawking and saw Zuko leap of the edge of a cliff mercilessly blasting fire in his direction.

The young Avatar shouted in surprise barely managing to dodge the flames as he ran away from the raging prince leaping over an identical sand replica of Ba Sing Se. Zuko landed and continued chasing Aang.

“What are you doing?!” Aang cried out fearfully as he hid behind a sand replica of Appa.

"Teaching you a lesson!" Zuko barked and he swung his fist, sending a stream of fire at the sand sculpture completely destroying it.

Aang looked up and saw the girl with auburn red hair standing on the ledge from where Zuko had leapt down from. She had her arms over her head and appeared to be stretching lightly from side to side.

“Tsai!” Aang yelled for help. “Zuko’s gone mad!”

He jumped away from the beach and up in a rock continuing higher and higher until he stood before the girl.

“Tsai!” He said reaching for her and hid behind her as if she could shield him from the Fire Prince’s wrath. “Zuko’s gone crazy!” He said fearfully. It was then that a glimmer caught his eye. He looked down and saw the knife on her hand. “He’s not the only one.” He saw the smallest of smirks curl on her lip.

She slashed quickly turning around and Aang ducked just in time his eyes wide in surprise. He ran back towards the house as fast as he could both Fire Nationer’s rapidly trailing behind him.

Aang looked over his shoulder heaving as he ran as fast as he could. There was no time to stop and ask questions as panic surged through him. Both of them looked angry as Zuko blasted at his heels. Aang jumped on a rock and then to a palm tree clinging dearly to it. Zuko ran up the rock and flipped jumping off it hitting the ground with a roll and setting the palm on fire. Aang clung to his life as he looked down and saw the girl violently shaking the palm. Aang dove off the palm tree and landed on the roof of the beach house. Without wasting another second Zuko scaled to the roof using the side of the beach house with acrobatic proficiency hot on Aang’s tail.

She looked at the hard task and the corner of her eye twitched slightly. No way in hell she was going up there like that. ‘Yeah… I’m using the stairs.’Huffing she turned and sprinted inside of the house.

Meanwhile on the roof-

"Get a grip before I blast you off this roof!" Aang snapped angrily standing his ground defensively.

"Go ahead and do it!" Zuko snarled in response before thrusting his fist forward, bending a large jet of flames before leaping and kicking another blast at Aang, who twisted away and slid down the sloped crimson roof.

Aang slipped down and went inside a window to a storage room. He panted softly catching his breath as he hid behind a wood dresser. It was then that the roof collapsed as a blast of fire and Zuko fell through landing amongst the broken wood, debris and ceiling titles. He took a guarded stance as he eyed the room carefully seeking for any sign of the Avatar.

Aang stood up slowly and with a quick whirl kicked the wooden dresser towards Zuko sprinting out of the room. Zuko’s fists broke through the dressed destroying it in one firey motion and continued in his pursuit.

Aang ran to the end of the hallway but stopped when a flash of red turned around the corner stopping him in his tracks. He looked in between the two Fire Nationers. He was trapped. Behind him Zuko bend massive arcs of fire creating an infernal tunnel of flames that engulfed the hallway and would soon reach Aang.

He looked forward Tsai coming at him with a knife, his eyes wide with horror as he looked over his shoulder and saw the surging flames. They engulfed him on all sides. Leaping he twisted midair and bending air he extinguished the fire beneath him safely landing.

Aang bared his teeth looking between the two Fire Nationers.

“Enough!” He roared angrily as he created a wind tunnel which smothered all the flames in the room. Zuko yelled in surprise as he was blasted down the corridor and out in a powerful gust of air that shot him through the walls and out crashing against a tree landing on the ground with a painful thud.

Tsai managed to duck just in time stabbing the knife on the wooden floor managing to cling to the ground as the violent air whooshed past her. Aang was distracted looking at the gaping hole in the wall that he didn’t see her attack coming.

“Gotcha!” She pounced on him wrapping an arm around his neck roughly holding the butter knife to his face. He looked at her with a slight scowl his eyes a blend of irritation and confusion.

“What is wrong with the two of you?!” Aang said removing her arm from his body angrily. She shrugged a little and instead placed it on his shoulder as they walked towards the end of the hallway. She combed down her messy hair with her other hand. “We wanted to teach you a lesson,” she said sternly. “You shouldn’t be slacking off.”

They reached the balcony and looked down at Zuko who had landed on a bush and was rubbing the back of his head. She waved at him with a sheepish smile on her face.

‘Of course, she’d caught him.’

"What's wrong with you two?!" Katara yelled as she came around the house, the rest of the group tailing before her as they all stopped before the prince and looked up at the balcony. “You could’ve hurt Aang!”

Aang and Tsai leapt down the balcony one of them landing more gracefully than the other.

“Wrong with us?” Zuko shouted back throwing his hands to the side. “What’s wrong with you?! How can you sit around having beach parties when Sozin’s Comet is three days away!”

They all starred at him blankly.

“Wait- you guys don’t know?” Tsai stepped forward stepping next to Zuko. Everybody was looking at them as if they were lunatics.

“So the comet’s coming. Big deal.” Mecha shrugged crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why are you all looking at us like if we’ve gone crazy?"

"Uh..." Aang sighed and rubbed the back of his head as he stepped forward, "About Sozin's Comet...I was actually gonna wait to fight the Fire Lord until afterit came."

"After?" Tsai stepped forward looking at him in shock. That terrifying vision still replaying continuously in the back of her mind. This explained why Aang had been slacking off so much. What did he think he could just waltz into the Mainland whenever he wanted knock on the Fire Dad’s door and take him down?

"I'm not ready." Aang explained, he glanced at the ground with an insecure look on his face... "I need more time to master firebending."

"And frankly, your earthbending could still use some work too." Toph added with a small shrug and she crossed her arms.

Aang winced and looked away mournfully.

"So... You all knew that Aang was going to wait?" Zuko asked slowly as looked at the others in disbelief.

“How come I didn’t know?” Tsai held the back of her neck. “We discussed it before the eclipse.” Her brother answered with a casual shrug. ‘Even he knew?!’

"Honestly Zuko, if Aang tries to fight the Fire Lord right now, he's gonna lose." Sokka commented then looked over at Aang apologetically, "No offense."

Katara stepped forward before Aang could answer, "The whole point of fighting the Fire Lord before the Comet was to stop the Fire Nation from winning the War." She shrugged and looked at the others before her gaze settled on the scarred prince, "But they pretty much won the War when they took Ba Sing Se. Things can't get any worse."

Oh, how wrong they were.

"You're wrong." Zuko replied flatly. He closed his eyes and turned away from them. "It's about to get worse than you can even imagine."

He proceeded to explain everything he had said to Tsai earlier that they before they decided to teach Aang a lesson.

"I can't believe this." Katara collapsed. Knees growing weak at the horrible realization.

"I always knew that the Fire Lord was a bad guy," Sokka muttered as he wrapped his arm around Suki's bringing her close in a comforting gesture. "But his plan is just pure evil."

Suki shook her head sadly.

“Why do you all think I have been acting like a nut about mine and Aang’s trainings?” Tsai sighed crossing her arms over her chest. “I��” She hesitated in whether she should share the following information with the rest of the group. “The dragons showed me a vision when we were in the Sun Warrior Island. It’s about the day of Sozin’s comet. I saw so much destruction, fire, raining ash- I get this sickening feeling every time I even think about it.” It was almost apocalyptic.

“What am I gonna do?" Aang grabbed his head in distress.

Zuko stood up walking over to Aang. "I know you're scared. And I know you're not ready to save the world." He stopped in front of him. "But if you don't defeat the Fire Lord before the comet comes, there won't be a world to save anymore."

"Why didn't you tell me about your dad's crazy plan sooner?" Aang screeched. “And why didn’t you tell me about your vision?” He demanded.

Aang began pacing nervously both of his hands clenching as knots of stress began to form on his back.

"I didn't think I had to. I assumed that you were still going to fight him before the comet." Zuko replied defensively and he put a hand on his chest and flung the other out to the side. "How were we supposed to know you were going to wait?” The girl called out to him.

"This is bad." Aang muttered as he rubbed his temples as stress and despair began to cloud his consciousness. Aang was there, but not really there. He shook his head and groaned. "This is really, really bad." He collapsed to his knees.

"Aang," Katara said as approached him. "You don't need to do this alone,” You don’t need to this alone.

"Yeah," Toph chipped in with a cocky smirk, walking up to stand next to Katara while the rest of the crew followed behind. "If we all fight the Fire Lord together, we got a shot at taking him down."

“And don’t forget you’ve got something the Fire Lord doesn’t have!” Tsai said animatedly her characteristic optimism coming through.

“What? Something worth fighting for?” Zuko scoffed humorously from behind. His father didn’t need a good reason to destroy an entire civilization. “No,” she shot him a quick glance. “Us!” She said confidently with a cheesy grin.

"Alright! Team Avatar is back!" Sokka cheered pumping a fist up in the air. He pointed at Aang “Air!” then at his sister “Water!” He said confidently. “Earth!” He said turning to Toph. “Fire!” He motioned to Zuko and Mecha.

“Fan, spirit and sword!” He shouted triumphantly. Sokka said picking up a leaf that resembled a blade and handing Suki one that looked like a fan.

“Spirit?Really? I don’t get a prop?” Tsai eyed Sokka with the edge of her lips twitching into a grimace.

Sokka’s leaf sword wilted with his determined expression. Aang turned to look at his friends with a rare serious expression on his face. "Fighting the Fire Lord won't be easy, it's gonna be the hardest thing we've ever done together." He smiled at them, "But I wouldn't want to do it any other way." He said with a small smile.

The group all cheered and came together in a group hug. The Fire Nationers standing idly a couple of feet away from the group glancing awkwardly.

Katara glanced over at them and smiled, "Get over here guys. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs!"

The Fire Nationers smiled at each other slightly before welcoming in the group hug. Even Appa joined in!

“So, how are we going to do this?” Sokka clapped his hands after the jovial embrace.

“You have to catch him by surprise!” Tsai explained raising her hand. They all chuckled lightly. “What?” She said confused. “I hit him once.” She admitted.

“You what?”Her brother asked with his eyes wide. Everybody’s faces seemed to reflect his surprise. “He tried to set me on fire. I had to do something. So, I used my head.”

“I see,” Sokka scratched his chin. “You stood by the fire waiting for him to lower his guard and then attacked with an elaborate strategy.”

“No,” She deadpanned. “I usedmy head. I headbutted into him.” She rubbed the top of her head remembering the slight pain.

“She’s being modest. She broke his nose.” Zuko said with what sounded like pride in his voice before dropping an arm around her shoulders.

Everybody gawked at the two Fire Nationers beyond confused. It was awkward enough that he seemed proud that she landed a strike on his evil father’s face. Talk about weird dynamics.

“Is this how you two flirt?” Her brother asked just as confused pointing a finger between the two of them.

“I’m just glad you two finally made up.” Sokka let out an exhale. “Now we can double date!” Suki said with an eager smile.

However, this was not the time for that…

“There is one technique you need to know before facing my father...” Zuko stated. Moments later he was teaching Aang how to redirect lightning. Something Tsai’s scarred brother also sat in for. Maybe an individual can survive getting hit by lightning once? But twice?

Xxx

Later that day after a long day of strenuous training the group sat for dinner in the center courtyard. They all sat together mindlessly chattering while eating with scattered conversation. Aang sat a distance away not very hungry poking at his food with his back to his friends.

“I have a surprise for everyone!” Katara rushed in from the corridor holding a rolled-up scroll in her hands. She grinned eagerly as she stood before the group.

"I knew it!" Toph exclaimed as she stopped eating her rice, "You did have a secret thing with Haru!"

Everybody turned to give Toph an odd look.

"Uh...no..." Katara said, giving Toph an equally strange look before waving the scroll she had. "I was looking for cooking pots in the attic, and I found this!" She unraveled the scroll, revealing a painting of a happy baby with a small ponytail playing in the beach’s sand. "Look at baby Zuko! Isn't he cute?" Katara cooed gushing.

Everyone but Zuko laughed at portrait. Tsai stood up taking the scroll from Katara to get a better look at it. Suki leaned over her shoulder also looking at the portrait with a smile. “Awe!” Suki coed.

“You are so cute!” Tsai said touching Zuko’s arm. However, his arms remained crossed as he appeared to be deep in thought a stoic expression on his face despite the compliment.

"Oh lighten up, we’re just teasing." Katara said to him.

Zuko opened his eyes and gave her an irritated look, "That's not me. It's my father."

Everybody fell silent.  Suki cringed and Tsai grimaced as she rolled the scroll up giving Zuko a nervously apologetic look.

"But he looks so sweet and innocent." Suki murmured as she gestured towards the scroll and turned her attention to Zuko.

"Yeah, well that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster." Zuko scoffed and put his own dish down losing his appetite. He rested his arm on his bent knee, "And the worst father in the history of fathers."

Tsai placed a hand on his knees giving him a sad look.

"But he's still a human being." Aang interrupted turning to face the group from the distance. Everybody turned to look in his direction. “You’re going to defend him?” Zuko asked sharply.

Aang abandoned his plate and approached his friends. "I agree with you, Zuko. Fire Lord Ozai is a horrible person and the world will probably be better off without him. But there has to be another way."

"Like what?" Zuko scoffed.

"I don't know." Aang replied with a shrug. His expression brightened and he raised his hands up as if he was holding a bowl. "Maybe we can make some big pots of glue and then I can use gluebending to stick his arms and legs together so he can't bend anymore."

"Yeah." Zuko replied with sarcastic cheer, "Then you can show him all his baby pictures, and all those happy memories will make him good again."

Suki and Sokka sniggered behind Zuko.

"Do you really think that would work?" Aang oblivious to Zuko’s sarcasm asked his voice filled with hope.

"No!"

Aang hung his head and sighed hopelessly. “What if I do it?” Everybody turned back to look at the scarred young man from the colonies in surprise. Tsai couldn’t help but facepalm sometimes she really wanted to hit her brother. “Are you nuts? You’re notthe Avatar. That’s hisdestiny not yoursMecha.”

“I wouldn’t mind- really.” He added darkly.

His sister was about to protest and call him out on his plan for vengeance when Aang interrupted. “Enough lives have been lost. It shouldn’t be this way.”

“But Aang ending this life will save thousands-maybe millions of other lives.” The girl from the colonies tried to reason with him. “How can you measure the worth of one life with all the other ones that could be spared?”

"This goes against everything the monks taught me. I can't just go around wiping out people I don't like." Aang paced nervously in front of the group, his shadow following after him illuminated by the small oil lamp above the courtyard.

"Sure, you can. You’re the Avatar." Sokka stated matter-of-factly dismissing all of Aang’s concerns. “If it's in the name of keeping balance, I'm sure pretty sure the universe will forgive you." He added casually.

"This isn't a joke, Sokka!" Aang snapped in uncharacteristic anger as he whirled around to glare at him. "None of you don't understand the position that I'm in!"

"Aang, we do understand." Katara began in a compassionate attempt to soothe the boy, "It's just-"

"Just what, Katara?!" Aang demanded rudely. "What?!" He roared raising his voice.

"Then when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking away his life, I’d love to hear it!” Aang threw his hands up in the air in frustration as the stress of the approaching date of Sozin’s Comet consumed him before angrily stomping away.

"Don't walk away from this, Aang!" Katara chased after him with a strained tone. When a hand’s grip held her back. She turned and saw Zuko standing behind her.

"Let him go." He advised and he let his hand fall from her shoulder, "He needs time to sort it out by himself."

Tsai looked in concern at Aang’s retreating figure from the distance. Her own stress building up tensing her body knotting her back as thoughts of an infernal sky and raining ash clouded her consciousness….

Xxx

Aang sat on the third floor’s western balcony meditating on his choice. Before him he had placed four lit candles, some water, citrus fruits and nuts as an offering to the spirits to guide and bring wisdom to him.

He sat on a meditating pose the only sound he could hear were the tugging and pulling waves of the ocean. Momo quietly sleeping next to him.

When a voice pulled him from his meditation.

“Hey, I love mandarins.”

Aang snapped his eyes open and glared. “Don’t touch those Tsai! It’s an offering for the spirits.” He said irritated. The girl was already peeling the skin of her midnight snack.

“Well, lucky you, I am a spirit and I accept your offering.” She smiled at him softly before walking and leaning on the balcony’s railing. He noticed she was wearing a simple loose-fitting sleeping shirt and the pair of maroon brown shorts she usually wore underneath her everyday Fire Nation robes.

“If you’ve come to persuade me to take the Fire Lord’s life, save your breath. I’m not changing my mind.” He said seriously with a light scowl on his features. She popped a mandarin slice in her mouth and let out a weak laugh. “I know that. That’s not why I’m here.”

He looked at her oddly. A feeble smile on her features. “I think there’s another way… I’ll help you Aang.” She looked at him gently.

He looked at her confused. “How?” He asked with a deflating hopeless breath his shoulders dropping at his sides. “Dunno,” she said with a light shrug. She looked away avoiding his probing gaze. Aang had a feeling she knew more than what she was letting on. “I can walk through fire. That’s got to count for something.”

xxx

Tsai walked back to the guest room she was sharing with Suki, Katara and Toph. She was about to enter the room but stopped in the hallway. A dim light coming from underneath another one of the bedroom door’s in the hallway caught her attention. It was Zuko’s bedroom.

Zuko heard a light knock on his door. His eyes looked up from the parchment on which he was writing on it and saw the door slide open.

He turned and saw Tsai standing underneath the door frame. There was a rare gloom clouding her expression.

“Can… Can I stay with you tonight?” She asked bashfully almost meekly.

“S-Sure.” He stammered pushing away the parchment and brush away from him. He hated himself for stammering and turned away hoping she wouldn’t notice his flustered expression.

He had never slept alonein the same room with a girl that wasn’t his sister. Maybe they had shared many nights together, but his Uncle Iroh or someone, anybody else was always there in between them as a buffer. For some reason it seemed like such a vulnerable act to him. Truly surrounding your consciousness to lay alongside another person. It was scary…

“Okay” She chirped with a small smiled and walked towards the large bed slipping underneath the covers turning on her side. “Goodnight.”

For some….

Feeling frustrated Zuko fought the urge to slam his head against the desk he was currently using. His adolescent concerns overshadowing his juvenile thoughts and emotions. ‘What would Uncle do? What would he say?’ He thought to himself and then grimaced when he actually gave that statement some thought. Never mind that he said shaking his head thinking of the lost advice he once whispered to him in Ba Sing Se.

He turned off the candle that lit the room and carefully slid into the bed next to her. Careful not to make too much noise or move too much. He lay stiffly with his arms at his sides and turned to look at the back of her red head in the darkness. Turning on his side he mindlessly reached for a strand of it toying with the wavy lock between his fingers.

He called her name softly.

“Hm?” She mumbled sleepily.

He was quiet. She could feel him still twirling a strand of hair in his hand. She rolled over slowly and looked at him. Both now face to face. The sounds of waves echoing in the distance.

“Tsai… I…” He was at loss of words. When she raised a hand to his lips gently silencing him. “Don’t say it.” She hushed heavy-eyed with a slight smile on her face. He didn’t even realize he was smiling back. He felt strange, soft inside, warm. It was a novel feeling he welcomed. His hand reached for her fingers.

She threw an arm around him holding him close, nuzzling against his shoulder an arm wrapping around her bringing her in close. “Come here my little fire ferret.” She said in a teasing tone.

“Ugh. Please do notcall me that…” He grumbled in protest. She couldn’t help but laugh a little at his response. “My… tiger monkey?” She said playfully. “If I’m a tiger monkey then you’re a koala sheep.”

“A koala sheep?” She asked almost incredulously raising an eyebrow at him. “What? They’re cute and cuddly,” he shrugged.

“You think I’m cute and cuddly?” She continued the painful tease slowly inching closer to his face. He turned away slightly embarrassed. “Let’s just be us.” She said placing one last kiss on his face.

He agreed.

“Goodnight.”

Xxx

Later in the undisturbed night…

The deep-toned hypnotic chanting of voices of men seemed to resound from the ocean nearby. The chanting was low almost like a hum. It rumbled.

Aang awoke from his sleep and sat up in the balcony where he had unintentionally fallen asleep. A cloud of slumber lingered over his tired features. Slowly, almost as if in a trance. He rose to his feet and walked towards the balcony rail and down to the beach without looking back.

Downstairs a sleeping spirit was also disturbed…

xxx

Sunburn Chapter

M A S T E R L I S T

NEXT https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/623235644322447360/sunburn-prince-zuko-37 PREV https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/622676261578342400/sunburn-prince-zuko-35

xxx

AN: Realistically speaking only 2 more chapters to go... 👀👀👀

[jungwooisms]

pairing: lee donghyuck x female!reader genre: short story warnings: baby angst but nothing tremendous, an f word  word count: 3.3k summary: you never intended to feel this way about him, never intended to find yourself lost in a bittersweet nightmare when he tells you about that’s caught his eye. a girl who was not you.

Ahtti Farm, Gyeonggi-do

Sunlight filters through the dappled tree above, casting its rays down upon him, bespeckling his visage in translucent green. His hair now illuminated with light, it was haloed in a reddish tint among the blond overtones. The soft cadence of the crickets scattered about the field gave way to show how slow and lazy your Sunday was headed, it wasn’t a bad thing though, the both of you treasured such moments much more than you’d ever know. Or ever tell each other, for that matter.

Serenity disrupted when Donghyuck moves, button up linen shirt shifting and straightening as he stands, the cutoff cuffs of his jeans barely brushing his ankles as he found footing on the grass. His shoes had been shed when the pair of you had arrived, anxious to feel the earth on his skin. Several short strides forward he found himself looking down at your sitting figure, head tilting in question. “Are you going to eat those?” Hand now raised and pointing to the basket of berries you’d come here to pick.

Eyes lingering on the bed of grass indented with his shape, something within you twinged sorrowfully. “Not all of them,” you pat your hand down on the blanket beside you, offering him a seat as you turned your attention to him, away from the ghost of his figure slowly lifting from the bed he’d made. Gently picking up one of the strawberries mixed into the plethora of berries you hold it to his hair as he sat, “Hmm, it’s not really the same color, is it? Maybe you should go more cherry red.”

Cheeks puffed, he turns, you know how iffy he feels about his new hair color, but it was fun to poke at him. “Maybe I’ll go bald, might make it the newest trend of the year.”

“Yeah, can’t wait for the day I see the rest of the world go bald,” snorting, you shoved the fruit to his lips until he reluctantly took a bite out of it. “They’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

Nodding he turns his head away, leaving you with the stump of the fruit and its cluster of leaves in your grasp. He chewed for a moment, savoring the taste before standing once more. “I didn’t realize there were places like this near Seoul, it feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Arms outstretched to embrace the scenery and sunlight he spins. It might be a tad over the top but it brings a smile to your lips nonetheless.

“Didn’t you travel when you were younger?” You drop the stem onto your blanket, wondering if it was considered littering if the trash was decomposable and technically not detrimental to the environment around you.

“Jeju, yeah,” he glances back to you, “but I lived there, didn’t really travel much.” Hands on his sides he stretches, leaning left and right. Sometimes you had to wonder where he found all his energy, and if he had any spare to give to you.

Head nodding you brush you knees off; you know they aren’t dirty, but it would feel strange standing up if you didn’t. “You never really talk about it,” Shoulders shrugging you move to stand beside him, looking out at the long rows in front of you. “Weird how there’s no one else here, you’d think it’d be a perfect day for this sort of thing.” The sunlight feels especially warm on your back as it bares down on you.

Donghyuck contemplates for a moment, you watch his brow furrow from the side, “We should do this more often.”

Now your turn to look puzzled, “Do what?”

Head turning to face you, “Hang out, I never see you anymore.” A pout surfacing on his lips as he speaks you can’t help but feel guilty at the sight. It’s not like you were trying to avoid him, it’s just that it was much less hard on you if you kept your mind off him.

“School’s been kicking my ass, you know that.” Reluctantly, you look away from him and to the expanse of green and red in front of you. “Don’t your roommates keep you company?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” You feel his eyes linger on you for a moment more than they should until he follows your trail of sight back to the fields. “But they’ve all got other friends or girlfriends to worry about, and I guess school too but we’re all really a bunch of slackers when it comes time to actually do work.” A sigh, “Maybe I’ve just got to get a girlfriend, it might make my time more worth it.”

A scoff, “You? Find a girl that’ll keep up with your antics? Let me know when that fever dream comes true.” Breeze running along the grass, tickling your feet as you can’t help but have the want to be her. Hyuck wasn’t the type to date friends, and you’d been one for the longest. Yet as you grew to know him over the course of your friendship of several odd years and a half you couldn’t help but to have this growing sense of yearning for him to be a part of your life more intimately so than it had ever been. He was nice, a gentle soul under the perverse, aloof and candid personality that he so often showcased to the world. It was because of your want, your unrequited want, that you took it upon yourself to slowly pull away and try to lessen the blow.

“It’s not that weird,” Pout returning, you didn’t have to look at him to know it was there, it was present enough in his tone. “Besides, I think I’ve found a pretty good one.”

Stomach sinking as you can’t help but have the tinge of unhappiness coating your words, “Oh? Someone from school?” Your eyes concentrate harder on the scenic view, the clouds sluggishly disappearing over the horizon.

“Maybe if you saw me more often you’d know,” A dramatic sigh as he takes a few steps towards one of the closer strawberry plants. “But, yeah she’s from school.”

“Anyone I know?” Questioning further you feel the hole you’re digging getting deeper.

He watches a flock of small birds soar through the sky, some occasionally swooping lower or trying to keep up with the pack. A simple shake of his head, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” It leaves your lips like a whisper, you try to recompose yourself, but your thoughts are intertwining and making you lose your focus. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked her out yet, god knows you’re not the type to hide your feelings.” It was a small front to hide the twinging hurt pulling at your lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He questions, turning his head in time to see you walk into one of the rows, your feet gingerly stepping to make sure there wasn’t anything that’d poke or prod you on the ground. The scent of strawberries invading his senses as he too takes a few cautious steps forward. A hand raises to his hair, brushing a few sweat soaked strands away from his forehead, “I’m just waiting for the right time is all. Besides, why are you so invested all of a sudden? Are you jealous?”

Yes. “As if,” Leaning down, you inspect a few of the berries that were still too unripe to pick. “I’m just curious, remember: I haven’t seen you in a while?”

The sun blocked as Donghyuck stands over you, leaning to look over your shoulder. “If you say so.” Hand reaching out to turn over a few leaves to uncover the berries hiding underneath. “You know,” he’s musing, and you can already feel your eyes preparing to roll, “I could set you up with Mark, he needs a church buddy and you aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

One of the last people you could see yourself with was Mark Lee, sure he was a good kid but he was constantly stressed and seemed like he would never have time to fit a significant other into his schedule. “Pass,” You straighten up, Donghyuck following suit so he wouldn’t get hit by your elbow.

“Ah, come on, you haven’t even seen anyone since J-”

It only takes a millisecond for you to whip your head to glare and subsequently cut him off. “Lee Donghyuck you know we don’t mention his name. Ever.”

He reacts by raising his arms, surrendering to the fact that he’d made a faux pas. “I know, I know, sorry.” You can tell there’s something on his mind and it only takes a few seconds for him to vocalize it. “I mean, I think you’re just dragging that out. He was a middle school fling wasn’t he?” By this time he’s strolling back to your blanket as you stand there sighing.

“High school but it was still- Ah forget it.” Frowning you follow after him. He’s sitting now, falling back to return to his original position in the grass, looking up at the sky through the leaves of the tree above. And you too return to your blanket, crossing your legs as you sit.

Leaning back, you tilt your head to look at the sky, using one of your hands to pluck one of the strawberries out of the wicker basket beside you. Bringing the berry to your lips you take a small bite, savoring the sweet flavor as your eyes trail along the puffy clouds above. “Sorry for snapping at you,” A sigh as you move your hand away from your lips. “I’d just not like to think about that ever again.”

“That’s why I’m saying I can set you up with Mark,” He nods with closed eyes, trying to act wise but coming off more faux philanthropic than anything. “I mean who doesn’t want a youth group leader as a boyfriend?” Hyuck couldn’t hold back at that one and let out a short laugh. “You’ll find someone better than your ex, I know you will.”

Never mind that your ideal one was the one saying that to you. “Thanks,” Fingers tapping along the plush blanket, “I hope everything goes well with that girl of yours, you deserve someone nice too.”

“That may have been the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Hand raising to his heart, “I could blush.” After he hears you snicker, he turns his head to the side. “You said this place closes at three, didn’t you?” He muses after taking a glance down at the phone lying face up beside him.

“Yeah,” Lips pursed you look to him, “What time is it?”

“Two forty-five,” Nonchalantly answering as he looks over to you. He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to go back and remember everything that’s left to do back home. But it’s useless to wish for things like that so he sighs and sits up, “I guess we should start heading back then?” Arms once again lifting from the ground as he sits up quickly, using his momentum to propel him to his feet.

“I guess so,” You sigh, he’s standing over you now, offering a hand to help you up. Gratefully accepted you stand, using your free hand to pull up the basket of strawberries with you. Once standing he removes his hand from yours and moves to fold the blanket you’d been sitting on, a flicker of a frown as he did so. Hyuck had always been the touchy type with his friends, even with you at times but it seemed like he’d been doing it less and less the last few times you’d seen him.

The two of you begin to walk once he slides his shoes on, the long grass brushing past your ankles as you head towards your car. “Maybe I can make a cake or something with these,” A glance down at the basket as you wonder if your keys were still in your back pocket.

Hyuck hops in front of you, almost excitedly as he begins to walk backwards atop the uneven ground. “That cake with the strawberries you made for Renjun’s birthday last year was,” His hand raises, fingers forming to make the ‘okay’ symbol before he speaks again, “amazing. You should definitely do that.”

“Hmm,” Your head buzzes as you bring a hand to your chin in contemplation, Hyuck glances backwards to make sure he’s not about to trip over anything. “Maybe I can make something for Mark, do you know if he like strawberries?” In all it was a joke, but you can’t help but feel a little guilty for playing along with the joke.

He regrets ever mentioning the Canadian as he turns, steps to the side and falls back into pace with your footsteps. A tinge of annoyance on his tone, “I think he’s more of a watermelon person.” Without another word said the pair of you walk to your car, Hyuck slides into the passenger side as you open the door to the back driver’s side and put the basket behind your seat before subsequently shutting the door and getting into your own seat. The afternoon sun had heated the interior of the car significantly and despite your attempts at trying to blast the AC you could already feel your perspiration adhering the back of your legs to the faux leather seat.

“Did you want to DJ?” Proposing the question through the humidity of the car, you offer your phone out to Donghyuck.

“Is that even a question?” Seemingly out of his little funk he shoots you a quick grin and nearly snatches the phone out of your hand. “What shall we go with today?” Questioning as the car turns on and you begin to slowly back out of the parking space, looking for any pedestrians that might be out. It’s only when you’ve pulled onto the main drag going through the small town when Donghyuck finally picks a song, it’s one you’d never heard before, but he seems to know it well. You’ve been out to karaoke with him in his friends before, so you knew how good of a singer he is. You always preferred it when he sang ballad-esqe types of songs rather than the popish things he normally did. Yet the song he’d chosen wasn’t awful, he was tapping his hand against his thigh as he looked out of the window, only mouthing the words until the song hit its chorus.

An hour later your attention was still focused on the road ahead, Donghyuck was napping, his head leaning back on the headrest. Your phone had died about fifteen minutes into your drive and Donghyuck’s wasn’t hooked up to the Bluetooth. Not that it mattered though, he’d passed out shortly after you’d gotten onto the highway, the gentle humming of you driving over the road lulling him to sleep. So now you drive in relative silence, the only sound accompanying you being that of your car and the occasional bass-boosting driver passing you on the left.

Maybe another ten minutes later Donghyuck wakes up from his nap, waking in time to catch you stealing a glance at him. “Shouldn’t you keep your eyes on the road?” Yawing as he stretches in the confines of his seat belt, he rarely slept, even when he tried to go to bed at a normal time.  

Cheeks warming ever so slightly as you were caught in the act, “I was just thinking that maybe your hair doesn’t look that bad.”

Hands raising to cover his locks, “I swear to god I’ll dye it back to black tomorrow.” Fingers intertwining through the strands you can’t help but laugh.

“I’m serious though!” Your hands lift off of the steering wheel momentarily so that you could express yourself fully, they return, and you clutch the wheel ever so slightly, “It’s actually kind of cute.”

“Cute?” He sounded exasperated, “I was trying to go for macho man.”

“Who told you strawberry blond was a macho color? It’s more summer-timey than anything.” Brow furrowed you flick your turn stick to signal you were heading off the exit ramp. “Was it Johnny?”

“How’d you know?” Almost surprised, he moves his hands from his head and turns to you.

“Because he was probably fucking with you, Donghyuck.” You roll your eyes as you turn off of the exit, inching closer and closer to the city where you resided. “But like I said it doesn’t look bad.”

“Cute,” he sighs, “you said it looks cute.”

A wry smile, “Hopefully that girl will like it too, you’re stuck with it for a while.”

“Yeah,” Another sigh as he leans his head against the window, looking at buildings and trees blur together, “I hope she does.”

“Did you want to take any of them with you?” Your hand motions backwards, towards the basket that you’d tucked behind your seat. The two of you stood outside of Donghyuk’s apartment building, the sun was slowly setting, an orange glow reflecting off the tall buildings around you. It was still warm outside but the cool of the evening was slowly encroaching into the space around you.

“I’m alright,” He nods, glancing to the back of the seat and then back to you. “I guess I should be going.”

“I’ll see you around,” You smile as he begins to walk towards the entrance of the building.

“Let me know when you’re free again, I had fun today,” returning the smile he fumbles around his pockets looking for the entrance keys.

“Will do,” Nodding, you begin to feel around your pocket for your own car keys, “You’ll have to tell me how it goes with that girl.”

Donghyuck freezes at your words, you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not found your keys and looked back over to him. He looked rigid, almost like a statue as his back was still turned to you. Soft glow of orange bringing out the red tones in his hair, you had to stop yourself from having the urge to run your fingers through it. Before you could comprehend it, Donghyuck was standing in front of you, you were perhaps too lost in your thoughts to notice. “Still caught up on her?” A hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on in his voice.

Breath hitching in your throat, you cough to try and bring it back, “Caught up? What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting weird ever since I brought it up,” Brow furrowing it feels like he’s staring into your soul. You don’t like how vulnerable you feel to the glare and you don’t get why he’s being so persistent on it.

“’Acting weird.’” Hands raised to air quotation marks, “Mr. ‘let me set you up with my friend and get all offended when you bring him up,’ if anything we’re both acting weird.” This callousness unwarranted but it bubbled up in your throat, you were unable to cork it.

“You do know I was talking about you, right?” Words ripped from his lips you can only stare as you try and piece his sentence together. It suddenly feels ten degrees warmer outside but that could just be the blood that’s racing towards your face.

Time feels slow as you think of a response, and you can’t think of a verbal one. Hands reaching out to grab the hem of his roughly woven cotton shirt you tug at it as you lean in, pressing a soft, chaste kiss against his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me,” Pulling away you felt a mixture of euporia and hesitation.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” His hands found their way to yours, gently pulling them off of his shirt and into his own hands. Your nerves afire, “You know if you don’t want this, I can always call M-”

Donghyuck begins, a flush of red staining his cheeks, before you cut him off “Can you stop bringing him up and kiss me already?”