#If young justice Match also gets gently held

[puppetmaster13u]

DPxDC Prompt

New Ancient of Space Danny watching over Krypton as he gets older, taking care of each ghost, acting akin to their guardian and ferryman across the cosmos to their final resting place, if they should wish it.

And finding the ghosts after the planet's death and taking all of them under his wing. Especially the children, whom he cares for and makes sure they can have the childhood that was stolen from them.

He cares for them, watches over them, taking them in as not just allies and friends, but family. His own little stars shining amidst the dark, old or young, all beautiful and shining and bright.

But he's not just taken the dead in his hand, and sometimes, on a farm in Kansas, a child looks to the starry skies, and feels incredibly loved, like the very universe is cradling him close.

[ineffablestardust]

Wake up besties the dinluke faves collaborated !!!!

To which @swedenis-h​ had this super sweet comic idea and I wanted to do it justice :D 

Comic sketches (courtesy of the lovely @swedenis-h​) 

Oneshot (courtesy of me lol) 

Dusk on Tatooine had always been filled with heady purple and the last licks of sweat the day tried to cling to, the day like an overenthusiastic mastiff trying to be led away.

Two dots of red on the horizon, a flickering fire- Tatooine shed its warmth like washing slobber from skin. The day’s heat lingered, and lingered… and vapourised without warning.

A flicker of silver, a spark of gold.

The smell of hot circuitry, huddling closer to the fire. Luke tried to stay still as Din removed the wiring tool from the open wiring panel of his robot hand.

"It's beautiful work." Din complimented gently, lowly, his gloved fingertips tracing the palm lines of Luke's prosthetic hand. Almost as if he was tracing the lines of a map, learning the routes by heart. Luke imagined it would feel really nice, if there hadn't been a dull edge of metallicism to every sensation from that hand.

"It doesn't..." Luke fights a frustrated noise, feelings stuck in his throat like backed up Tatooine traffic. His throat tightened.

A breath.

"It's not." Luke admits finally, gaze shifting to meet Din's. A warriors fire sparking in his eyes for the tiniest moment as he resigned himself to unravelling this particular insecurity for Din the way he had cracked the circuitry of his robotic hand wide open.

Young, immature. The harbingers that were supposed to breed wisdom and maturity… may have only just hurt the people he loved.

How could it not have? With Han’s sight affected for the rest of his life and Leia having nightmares about watching the empire take Han away…

Forces, he’d been so stupid. Too wrapped up in the thrill of getting to finally use Force for good to realize the time had been wrong.

Would the situation had resolved itself without his intervention? Had Luke lost his hand for nothing?

"This is going to sound weird…" Luke trailed with a reluctant smile, struggling with the words- embarrassment reigning them in until they crowded in his mouth. Hesitancy to lay bare; a fog he couldn’t shake. “But…”

He grimaced.

"It's not your hand?" Din asked, ripping the words right out of his mouth. Luke blinked back at him, surprised.

Luke gulped thickly, but the tight knot of emotion wouldn't unravel.

"Yeah." Luke murmured reflexively, casting his gaze down- back to his hands. They were both held aloft in front of him, palms up. In theory there wasn't much visible difference between them, but...

"Mine had calluses," Luke began, his voice cracking at the admission as his eyes darted to where the calluses used to be. "from my work at the farm."

An image of his hand before the injury conjured itself in his vision, like an overlay, as he studied the robotic one. Sticky blackness climbed his insides, his skin crawled.

A ghost he was haunted by day and night.

Din paused in his ministrations, and the silence yawned and waned in the space between them.

Luke was drawn back in.

"It had scars from working on ships," Luke explained, his left, real, hand reaching out to point to the vulnerable stretch of skin around his wrist and the skin on the other side of his hand. It was pale in a way that was uncharacteristic of Luke's tanned skin tone. The skin looked less durable than the rest of him on the robot hand, a constant chink in his armour.

A breath. Luke could see the ghost clear as day, like a sort of glitchy holo projection.

"It also matched my left hand." Luke's voice was small as he stared at the robot hand, the gaping hole where the circuitry he had been showing Din spilled out. The visible circuitry when he fixed it made it both more and less easy to see the hand as his, paradoxically.

Luke had almost lost more than his hand.

The price of his hand was nothing compared to the company of his friends. His loved ones.

He knew that.

He knew that.

But why was there such a bitterness there? A guilt and shame- the robot hand meant more than just a second chance at mobility; it meant an unspoken forgiveness from his loved ones.

And Forces, that was hard to digest.

Leia, Han and Chewie had almost died that day. It would have been his fault that their stars had blinked out, and Luke would probably never forgive himself for it.

He'd just dove in unthinkingly, all of his mind on the need to save them that he hadn't thought it through-

The robot hand was just one big scar he'd never be rid of. One big forgiveness he wasn't sure he deserved.

Why was blind, reckless, heroism worth any forgiveness?

Luke would always be haunted by his old hand- the one that had just always been a part of him- it followed him when tinkering and sparring, the loss a thing of endlessness.

A gloved hand grabbed out for the wrist of Luke's real hand, cutting Luke's absent movement short. He'd been unknowingly tracing the places his right hand used to have character and definition. Startled, Luke's thoughts fell away.

"I-I... I sound insane." Luke back-pedalled, feeling self-conscious and awash with a hot and sticky shame at the vulnerable oddity about it. Fuck, he'd opened up too much there-

A tug.

"These are my real hands," Din's warm voice followed, and Luke looked up at him with a moment of flustered confusion.

Din looked down at his own gloved hands, studying them anew. "The ones you see now."

"I know their weight. Their durability." Din flexed his hands like he was about to pick up a rifle.

"The ones underneath the gloves, I haven't seen as mine for a long time now." Din admitted softly, looking at his hands now like they were foreign to him. "They were soft, and reaching for something that doesn't exist anymore."

Oh.

And then-

Oh.

Din had lost his parents, but he was talking about the new relationship with his hands that his gloves gave him after the loss of his home. The gloves being used both to bring about vulnerability for others while protecting the vulnerability of Din's open and wanting palms from his youth.

The side of himself that never had the opportunity to mature slowly. The side that grew up too fast but there would always be a sliver of, crying out for home.

Luke blinked, looking back up at Din.

"They were hidden away with a pain I never want to feel again." Din's voice wavered, and Luke unconsciously reached out, cradling one between his cupped palms, resting it on his knee.

"Yes, these hands have seen my mistakes, but they've seen my successes, too." Din reached out with his other hand, trailing it along the territory of the faux skin of Luke's robot hand with a reverence that made Luke's face hot with something. Something between tears, appreciation and gratefulness.

Perhaps all three.

"The hands I know now were a gift." Din concluded, looking Luke right in the eye. Luke could puzzle out his message now.

"A second chance." Luke finished for Din, and he nodded affirmatively.

Not a mark of forgiveness. A possibility to start again.

"They may not have the scars to prove it, but they are mine. Just as much as the hands under the gloves." Din softened, gloved fingertips lingering around the fleshy part of Luke's robot wrist, near the open wire access panel.

Luke felt himself flush, flattered by the way Din so deftly applied such a simple yet all-encompassing type of logic to find a solution.

There was earnestness to it, fresh and raw. A hopefulness.

“Hm.” Luke hummed back, letting Din’s truth wash over him and settle, clinking, next to the old one.

Perhaps Luke had been thinking about the robot hand all wrong.

He took in Din with their hands still intertwined in the space between their knees, a pang of warmth filling him.

Look not to the past, but to the future.

Luke smiled. How Jedi of him.

Din’s helmet looked back down at their joined hands, and then back up at Luke.

All of a sudden, Luke was very aware they were still holding hands.

Luke blinked, blushing a deep red, letting go at the same time Din did and pulling his hands in to his chest like they had been burned.

“Thanks for the hand-” “Yeah! Uh-”

[alj4890]

Hi,if Liam would sing and play guitar to pregnant Riley,what song would it be?Please use the guitar of Liam's mum 😊

😭 WHY DIDN'T PB LET THIS HAPPEN???? Oh goodness. That would have been a scene I would have thrown diamonds at to get. It would have been so sweet! I doubt I can do it justice, but I will try 😭

I'm using the lullaby that was sung in a classic movie from the 1950s, Bundle of Joy. My mom is the one to give me my love for classic cinema and she had this particular movie playing often when I was little. I ended up memorizing this song along with the others in it, LOL. I also sang it to my boys when rocking them to sleep. Poor things. They were stuck with my awful singing voice. No wonder they fell asleep so quickly when they were infants 😂

Lullaby In Blue from Bundle of Joy.

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis  @mm2305

Masterlist

Sweet Memories

"Liam?" Drake rounded the corner when he heard something he hadn't heard since he was little.

He saw his friend sitting outside, strumming an old guitar.

"Is that your mom's" he asked.

Liam's cheeks heated with color. "It is." He set it aside and stood up.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he avoided eye contact.

"I didn't know you played guitar." Drake muttered.

He was curious at Liam's reaction to being caught with it.

"I learned how after her death."

Drake's eyebrow lifted. "You did? How come you never told any of us?"

Liam shrugged. "It was a way for me to hold on to her memory." His brow furrowed. "Now that Riley is pregnant, I want to pass that on to our child." He hesitated. "But I've been trying for weeks now to remember the lyrics to a song my mother used to sing to me."

He felt such guilt over this. Each day, he would tell Riley he was going for a walk around Valtoria. He had been using that as a time to practice and hopefully jog his memory.

It was eating him up inside that he couldn't remember the very song his mother would sing to him at night if he had a nightmare or felt unwell.

"Why is it that I can only recall the melody?" He raked his hands through his hair. "I wish Father was here. Perhaps he knew the song."

Drake folded his arms and tried to think back to anyone who might have heard it. "I bet my dad knew it too."

Liam sat down once more and picked up the acoustic guitar. His fingers moved over the wood as he willed his memories to come back to him.

He could see her so clearly. Her blonde hair in a neat bun. The blue dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Her bright smile as she let him strum while she made the chords.

He could almost hear her laughter when he made up silly lyrics to go along with the music she created. Her sweet encouragement that he too had musical talent.

"Do you like my song for frogs?" His six year old self had asked.

"Like it?" Eleanor reached out and gently ruffled his hair. "I adore it, dearest. I've never heard a more perfect ballad for amphibians."

"I'm running out of time." Liam explained. "In a couple of weeks, the baby will be able to hear us." He turned to Drake. "I wanted one of the first sounds that he or she heard be a song from their grandmother."

"Somebody has to remember it." Drake argued. "Maybe Maxwell or Olivia. They spent time with her too."

Liam felt a glimmer of hope. "They are supposed to arrive tomorrow for a visit." He set the guitar back in the guest house he had hidden it in. "I'll find a way to talk to them without Riley knowing."

"She doesn't know?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise for her too." Liam smiled softly. "I told her I played guitar during our date at Ramsford. She's never heard me play before. This can be something special for her and the baby."

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

"I remember that!" Maxwell exclaimed. He hummed the rest of the tune.

"You do?" Liam felt his hope grow. " Can you remember the words?"

"Sure." Maxwell hummed the beginning. "Um...it went...hmm." His brow furrowed. "What were the words?"

Liam practically deflated. If Maxwell couldn't remember a song then all hope was most assuredly lost.

"I remember snippets." Maxwell paced back and forth. "Like, Sandman is commin and he'll be here--"

Liam sat up when those words jogged his memory. "Mighty, mighty soon. And if you don't cry--"

"He'll be dropping by with the great big lollipop moon." Maxwell belted out. "I always loved that part of the song. Who wouldn't want the Sandman to bring them a moon shaped lollipop for going to sleep?"

Liam strummed along, repeating the words Maxwell had remembered. He stilled at not recalling any of the others. "How does it begin? Or for that matter, end?"

Maxwell sat down beside him. "It'll come back to you." He patted Liam's back. "Just keep at it."

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

The next day, Liam took a walk with Olivia.

"I've been digging around some more about Bradshaw and Isabella. Nothing concrete yet, but it never hurts to have something on them." She told him.

Liam wasn't overly concerned at the moment with the monarchs wanting an alliance with Cordonia. "Do you remember my mother's songs she used to sing to us?"

Olivia stilled. "What brought that to mind?"

Liam averted his eyes. "I've been trying to remember a song she would sing to help me sleep. It was some type of lullaby that made me smile. Maxwell remembered part of it, but the beginning lyrics have eluded me."

Olivia began to walk forward again.

He couldn't help but notice how tense she appeared.

"Olivia? Is something wrong?" He jogged to catch up.

He then saw the tears in her eyes.

She took a deep breath. "What difference does it make if you can or can't remember a song?"

He stepped back from the bitterness in her tone. "I wanted to sing it to the baby." He slipped his hands into his pants. "I've been practicing on her guitar and wanted..." He sighed. "I wanted my child to have something precious of my mother's. You remember how much she loved music."

Olivia lowered her eyes. "I do. Queen Eleanor would hum and sing even when walking down the halls."

"I didn't mean to upset you with my question." Liam apologized, regretting the fact he had dragged his friends into this.

"No. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." She sniffed and squared her shoulders.

Although thoughts of her childhood held a great deal of bitterness, Liam and his mother had been the one bright spot in her lonely existence. She couldn't deny him her help, no matter the heartache those memories contained.

"Now. What song is it?"

Liam led her to the guest house. He strummed the tune and noticed her expression light up in recognition.

Before he could even ask, a clear alto slipped from Olivia's lips as she sang the song.

����Hushaby... rockaby. Listen to my lullaby in blue

Bluelululululululu

How I love my pretty baby

Sweet and precious pretty baby

How I love my pretty baby

Honest to goodness I do

See here, Sandman is commin'

And he'll be here

Mighty mighty soon

And if you don't cry, he'll be droppin' by

With a great big lollypop moon🎵

Liam joined in, remembering how the rest was sung with two people. That thought reminded him of the times his mother encouraged his father to join in, their voices blending into a sweet note as they focused on their young child.

🎵Dream dream dream (How I love my pretty baby)

Be an angel

Dream dream dream (Sweet and precious, pretty baby)

Be a darling

I love my pretty baby (How I love my pretty baby)

Honest to goodness I do

Honest to goodness I do

Bluelulululululu🎵

"It's called Lullaby in Blue." Olivia told him. "Your mom sang it to me when I first came to live with you." Her eyes became distant as she thought back. "I asked her to teach it to me so that I could sing it to my stuffed dragon when he had trouble sleeping."

Liam reached over and grasped her hand. "Thank you. I know you don't like thinking of the past," he squeezed her fingers, "but being able to share this song means everything to me."

Olivia slowly smiled. "You better practice then. Your child deserves nothing but the best."

She wrote down the lyrics and left him alone to practice.

When he began to sing the words, he could hear his mother's voice singing too.

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

A few week's later...

"How are you feeling, my love?" Liam asked one evening.

Riley rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine. I think the baby is not too happy I ate those brownies Hana made, but i am determined to not throw them up."

Liam pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I have a surprise."

"You do?" She sat up with a big smile. "What is it?"

"Wait right here." He left her on the couch to retrieve the guitar.

Her eyebrows raised when he returned with it in hand. "Liam! Is that your mother's?"

He paused before her. "You remembered."

"Of course I do. How could I ever forget our first date?" She patted the spot next to her for him to sit. "You promised me that night that one day you might play for me." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I didn't know a girl had to get pregnant to get serenaded around here."

Liam chuckled at that. He was touched that she recalled their date so clearly. That was the best night of his entire social season, well other than seeing her again at the Masquerade Ball.

Hearing she loved him during the Coronation Ball was also up there. If only it had ended differently.

He pushed those memories to the side. "I thought it might be time to start sharing with the baby a song my mother used to sing to me."

Riley's smile turned tender. "I think that sounds wonderful."

She watched, fighting back tears, as he positioned himself on the floor so that he could sing directly to her belly. The expression on his face as he began the lullaby was one that touched her heart.

His love and wonder for their unborn child was stamped across his handsome features. Each word he sang was done so with a smile unlike any she had ever seen before.

When he ended the song, he pressed a kiss to her baby bump.

"I hope you liked that." He gently rubbed her tummy. "It was a favorite of mine from my mother. I wish you could have met her. She was the kindest, most gentle woman I have ever met." His hand moved to hold Riley's. "We're lucky though that you have a mother just as wonderful as mine was."

"Liam." Riley gave up on not crying.

He pressed a kiss to her hand before continuing. "I love you and your mother more than anything. I intend on you hearing that every single day I am blessed to have with you." His fingers tangled with Riley's. "That song is a reminder of just how beloved you already are to both of us."

Riley tugged him back on the couch. She kissed him, whispering how much she loved him, how happy he made her.

The two cuddled together and thought of the day coming soon when their family would at last be complete.

[darkisrising]

Enough, by DarkIsRising

@tessiete requested Obi-Wan whump and after a few false starts I think I finally found a sad story to tell.

Gen, Set during RotS

Enough

When it’s all over, it comes down to the two of them: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi and a baby and his rotations helping the creche master as a padawan hadn’t ever prepared him for this. He’s been at war for so long, has tasted more death in the past night alone, it feels, than in all his years as a general, that he's forgotten what the refrain of birth sounds like as it strums through the Force. The impossibility that after bearing witness to so much destruction he is now holding a young, brittle life—that he is charged with keeping this young, brittle life alive—is only now starting to sink it.

Luke is tiny, really just the barest of bones and muscles and a length of skin, and even that skin is saggy. So small, like he couldn’t possibly fill out the excess, and it humbles Obi-Wan, to have this slight being in his arms as he punches in coordinates for his first jump into hyperspace with his free hand.

“Keep him warm. Keep him close,” Bail had said when Obi-Wan admitted that he had no idea what he was doing. “He’s going to cry, that’s to be expected.”

Even expected it’s a shock when the wailing begins.

***

Hyperspace is never pleasant for a Jedi. The gaping emptiness in the Force is a special kind of loneliness, one that gets more manageable over time but never really goes away.

Obi-Wan’s first trip through it he’d been four years old, headed toward a Temple he’d never heard of and a future he could only catch a glimmer of in the dull refraction of the Seeker’s lightsaber hilt. The Jedi had been kind, had held his hand through the worst of his desolate sobs, had promised that he’d get used to it, that the Order sent Jedi throughout the galaxy to help beings that needed it most and one day Obi-Wan would be out there helping along with them.

Now there is no Order. No Jedi, save him and Master Yoda.

Now the being that needs help the most is this tiny child with a crumpled face—too young for proper tears—turning red the longer this ‘jump goes on. 

“Don’t worry, Luke. After we get to Tatooine you’ll never have to experience hyperspace again,” Obi-Wan murmurs as he gently bounces the baby the way he’d seen Bail do.  

He can only hope that he’s right, because hyperspace means leaving Tatooine, and leaving Tatooine means something has gone horribly wrong with the plan. It would mean Anakin has somehow found him. Has somehow found them, as Obi-Wan isn’t planning on leaving, either, if he can prevent it.

The bouncing isn’t working the way it had for Bail, so Obi-Wan tries other things. A new diaper. A new taste of artificial milk. All of these attempts Luke greets with the same inconsolable cry, heartbreaking for how soft it is despite Luke’s best efforts, as if his lungs aren’t capable of expelling out the sheer breadth of his anguish.

“I know, dear one. I know,” Obi-Wan says, because his own lungs are also not capable of screams loud enough to do his anguish justice, either.

Until they are, Luke will have to do the crying for the both of them.

***

There is a pattern to Obi-Wan’s jumps through hyperspace in so much as there is no pattern at all. He has to do this right if he’s to keep this burgeoning Empire’s forces at bay. To keep Luke safe, to keep this last flicker of Padmé Amidala’s light shining in a galaxy that has gone so very dark and cold and empty.

He has to be mindful of his own predictability because Anakin knows Obi-Wan’s ways. He might know them better than Obi-Wan. He has studied Obi-Wan since he was a boy with only the stubbiest of nerf tails and a braid that barely passed his ear lobe. While Obi-Wan was only just beginning to feel out his place in the Order without Qui-Gon’s steady guidance to turn to, Anakin had been watching him, taking him in with big blue eyes and a slave’s instinct for keeping one step ahead of his master’s moods.

Luke will never be a slave. He will never be a Jedi, but he does have his father’s eyes. 

By the strength of his ‘saber and to the last breath of his life, Obi-Wan will guard Luke. He will see to it that those blue eyes are the only part of Anakin’s legacy that lives on.

***

There is a bassinet in the ship that he can use, of course, but the wailing gets more frenzied any time Obi-Wan tries to set Luke in it.

So he doesn’t.

With a wriggle that reminds Obi-Wan of larva, Luke travels the planes of Obi-Wan’s chest. It is a graceless movement, to be sure, but he is determined about it. Up, up, up Luke makes his way until the downy softness of the crown of his head meets the scruff of Obi-Wan’s beard.

Still it is not enough to satisfy the industrious youngling.

Obi-Wan catches him, brings him back down, only for Luke to start his journeying once more. 

Luke is searching for something with singular intent and, of the two of them, only Obi-Wan knows he will never find it.

***

It is no secret that Obi-Wan wrestles with fears, as any in the Order might, and his biggest one is this: Obi-Wan fears that he will never be enough. 

Qui-Gon had battled that demon alongside him, to little effect. There had been thirteen years spent seated by Qui-Gon in meditation as they synchronized their breaths, their thoughts, their hearts. Thirteen years of surfacing only to see the bright blue of Qui-Gon’s eyes and a troubled frown etched across his brow. Thirteen years of hearing a chiding “Obi-Wan,” as if that’s all it would take to exorcise this insecurity that is burrowed deep and rooted fast. He could be cured if only he hears one more chiding “Obi-Wan.”

But in the end Obi-Wan had been right all along.

He hadn’t been enough to stop a Sith from killing Qui-Gon. He hadn’t been enough to bring this protracted war to an end. He hadn’t been enough to save Padmé or pull Anakin back from the brink or preserve the Order or any number of other failures that pile like limp bodies across the landscape of his mind’s eye.

Obi-Wan isn’t enough to bring Luke peace, but he can hold him through the hours that trickle by. 

Time is rendered meaningless by the unalloyed volume of it, and still Obi-Wan holds the boy. 

His head drops down sharply and he jerks back to wakefulness. Sleep isn’t something he can responsibly seek out, not with a baby in his arms, so he fights against it. He fights to keep his bleary eyes open. He fights the heavy press of fatigue in his arms and holds his charge tight.

Obi-Wan dully watches the whiteout of stars streaming past and wonders why, of all the Jedi that were stronger, wiser, more powerful than he, it has all come down to one that is so very ineffectual.

***

With a jolt they leave hyperspace and the deep black of space greets them.

It is vast. It is bleak. In it, Obi-Wan can see that he is so very insignificant.

Luke has finally stopped crying. He is pressed to Obi-Wan’s chest, matching bare skin to bare skin, shallow breath to shallow breath, beating heart to beating heart.

Reaching out with a hand that trembles slightly—the sum total of all he’s experienced bearing down on this one moment—Obi-Wan sets the ship’s coordinates for Tatooine. 

[storydays]

Season 1, Episode 1, p2

You dodged an Earth disc from the opposing team's earthbender's steady hand and used two water blast toward the earthbender and the firebender, sending them into the sink below. The crowd cheered as Mako and Bolin then sent the remaining benders into the sink. "And what an amazing triple play by the Fire Ferrets! If they can win the expedition match, the rookie sensations will be moving into the championship!" You grinned at your long time friends, brothers Mako and Bolin. Bolin was a rather loud, excitable earthbender and happy go luck person in general. Mako, however was a angst filled firebender, very serious, and could be a bit of an unintentional ass. 

You stumbled across them about 8 years back, while trying to track down your father with your Auntie Kya, who had been on a break from their busy lives. 

*Flashback*

Your Uncle Tenzin was searching with your Aunt Lin, while Aunt Pema and Gran-Gran were staying back with a newborn Ikki and a two year old Jinora. You felt so grown up, helping the adults. Your Auntie was rambling about how her brother's were idiots, and a few not so children friendly cuss words, when you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You stopped, catching her attention. "(Y/N), what's wrong, honey?" She knelt in front of you, waiting. 

You would tell her when you were ready. She knew you were listening, for something. 

Your (e/c) eyes looked down the alley, before whispering into the older waterbender's ear. Kya smiled, before standing up and followed you to the alley. There you found a pair of kids, one wearing a red scarf around his neck, the other with thick eyebrows. The one with scarf, you knew was a firebender, held sadness, and protection for his brother. The other was an earthbender, and he oozed fear for his brother, and he also held sadness, but could be a different reasons. You put on a gentle smile, before holding your hand out. 

"We've been looking for someone, and we found you two. We've been wondering around for hours, and I'm hungry. Do you guys want to join us,at the Rosemary Cafe?" The older brother eyes you and Kya for a moment before looking at his brother, and nodded, trusting your (e/c) eyes. Together, the four of you spent time  in Republic City, until your Aunt Kya ran into the pro-bender gym owner. They were old classmates/associates and knowing how hard it was to survive, the older man, adopted the boys, and they became family. 

After waving goodbye to them, you and Kya found your father making a fool of himself at a local bar. Your aunt whacked her brother upside her head, grinning as you try to stifle your giggles. That was a day, you would never forget, because it made your Aunt Kya proud at your big heart.

*Flashback end*

You grinned, after taking a sip of water as you listen to Bolin chat happily to his brother who replied bluntly. Other than your family, they were the only ones who knew you were an airbending master, and it was the biggest secret Bolin has ever held which, and it made your proud and special that he could help protect you. You finished changing, fixing your hair, so it hid your arrows again, before answering your radio that you kept on your person while off Air Temple Island. "Yes, Uncle?" You questioned, waving goodbye to your friends. "Yes, I'll meet you there, soon." You hung up, and then whistled for your other pet/friend, a polar bear dog, like Naga, but they were sister and brother. "Neo, here boy." You cooed as he sat in front of you, nudging you and looking at you fondly. "Let's go see Auntie Lin, boy." 

He barked happily, and quickly ran to the police station where your Uncle was waiting. Waving down a nearby guard, you asked him to take Neo to the animal section of the station, before Tenzin began walking. "So, why are we here?" You asked putting your arms behind your head, acting nonchalantly. "We're here because of Korra, it appears she ran away, and came here to start trouble." He grumbled, leading you into an interrogation room, where Korra was flinching under the Chief's stern voice. "Let's see, multiple counts of destruction of private and city property. Not to mention, evading arrest." She slammed the file in front of the girl, before leaning in close. 

"You're in a whole mess of trouble, young lady." "But there were some thugs threatening a helpless shopkeeper and I--" Korra tried to explain. "Can it." Lin growled, walking away. "You should have called the police, and stayed out of the way." "But I couldn't just sit by, and do nothing. It's my duty to help people." She pouted, before giving the Chief an awkward smile, "See, I'm the Avatar." 

You snicker, seeing the unimpressed look on your aunt's face. "Oh, I'm well aware of who you are, and your avatar tittle might impress some people, but not me." Korra looked a little shocked before relenting. "All right, fine. Then I want to talk to whoever's in charge." Unfazed by her tactics, Lin sat down across from her. "You're talking to her. I'm Chief Beifong." 'And in 3,2,1..' you counted down in your head before realization struck Korra. "Wait, Beifong? Lin Beifong? You're Toph's daughter!" She exclaimed. "What of it?" Lin huffed. "Well, then, why are you treating me like a criminal? Avatar Aang and your mother were friends! They saved the world together.." Korra trailed off. 

"That's ancient history. And it's got nothing to do with the mess you're in right now. You can't just waltz in here, and dole out vigilante justice like you own the place!" Your Uncle then ushered you to follow him. "All right, let's go get Korra before Lin kills her." He muttered, making you grin. "Chief, Councilman Tenzin is here." A guard called into the room. "Let him in." Lin sighed before standing up, and folding her arms behind her back. Tenzin walked in with a frown on his face, and you hung in the doorway, leaning against it and crossing your arm with an mischievous grin. "Tenzin, (Y/N), sorry. Got a little sidetracked on my way to see you guys." She shuffled nervously in her seat.

Tenzin inhaled softly, before sparing a grin at Lin. "Lin, you are looking radiant as usual." Your shoulders shake as you tried not to laugh. "Cut the garbage, Tenzin. Why is the Avatar in Republic City?" She growled at the man. "I thought you were supposed to be moving down to the South Pole to train her." "My relocation has been delayed. The Avatar on the other hand, will be heading back to the South Pole immediately, where she will stay put." "But--" Korra tried to cut in, but Tenzin continued as if she hadn't spoken a word, "If you would be so kind, as to drop the charges against Korra," He paused to glare at the shrinking girl's figure. "I will take full responsibility for today's regrettable events and cover all the damages." Lin looked back at the crestfallen teenager, looked at you who smiled cheerfully back, before sighing in resignation. 

She waved her hand, unlocking Korra from her cuffs, before crossing her arms. "Fine, get her out of my city." "Always a pleasure, Lin." Tenzin complimented, before turning sternly to the Avatar. "Let's go, Korra. You as well, (Y/N)." "Wait, I need to talk to (Y/N). He'll catch up with you in a second." Lin stated, fighting a grin as the two made their way out. Korra rubbing her wrists, cast a look behind her, only to see Lin shoot her the famous, 'I'm watching you.' look before Korra replied with the same look, only mushing up and mocking the woman. Lin threw her hand up and scrunched her face in confusion before turning to a laughing you. "So, tell me what happened today!" Lin grinned, no one knew it but you, but she loved watching your matches, and tried her best to catch them when she could, or at the very least, listened to the matches on her private radio. 

You grin quickly explaining everything to her, and she smiled seeing you hyped up. It wasn't often she saw you this excited and it was a breeze of fresh air, and she was happy to see a spark in your (e/c) eyes. "But yeah, and if we win the expedition match, we go to the finals and we could be the champions!" You cheered. "That's great, (Y/N)! I'll be sure to catch those two matches for sure." She smiled before hugging you and sending you on your way. "See ya tonight for dinner, Aunt Lin."

You quickly grabbed Neo, and followed your Uncle to the harbor where he was trying to get a boat for Korra to leave immediately. "Tenzin, please don't send me back home." "You blatantly disobeyed my wishes and the orders of the White Lotus." Tenzin stated.  "It was actually (Y/N)'s idea!" Korra defended. You grumble, ignoring your uncle's withering stare. "It was your idea to have her come here?" He demanded. "Technically, I told her to look for the pro-bending gym, or I'd assumed she would've gone straight to Air Temple Island." Your Uncle then began lecturing you before you blurted out, "I had a vision!" They both looked at you with looks, varying between shock, awe, and surprise. "Why didn't you tell me, (Y/N)?" Tenzin asked calmly, knowing you responded better that way.

"Because I only just figured it out, what that vision meant, and I knew I had to act quickly, to try and speed things along." You fidget in place, Neo whining and gently nudging you in an attempt to comfort you. Seeing you were uncomfortable, Korra spoke up. "Katara agreed with me that I should come. She said my destiny is in Republic City." She felt successful when Tenzin turned his attention to her, face turning redder than his clothing, and you sent a grateful smile to the waterbender. "Don't bring my mother into this!" he snapped, ignoring your laugh. "You look like a tomato, Uncle."

"Look, I can't wait any longer, to finish my training. Being cooped up and hidden away from the world, isn't helping me become a better Avatar. I saw a lot of the city today, and it's totally out of whack. I understand why you and (Y/N) need to stay, Republic City does need you both, but it needs me too." Korra finished her speech, leaving Tenzin to stammer before sighing as a police officer brought Naga to the group. "Is this your polar bear-dog, miss?" He asked tiredly. You laugh before gently taking Naga to see her brother Neo who howled with glee seeing her big brother. 

Korra sighed seeing the boat come closer to the port. Tenzin was really making her leave. You stood next to your Uncle as he studied Korra. "You know she's right. It'd be helpful and beneficial for everyone involved, if she stayed. It's going to happen anyways, so it'd be better if she was here under good tenses, instead of her constantly sneaking off." Your conversation was cut short, as the 3 Airbender kids landed in front of your group. Meelo hopping off of Jinora's back, and the kids hugging her legs and waist. "Korra!" They cried happily. "Are you coming to live on the island with us?" Ikki asked, as Korra knelt in front of them. "No, I'm sorry, Ikki. I have to go home now." She felt her heart break at the kids disappointed cries. 

"Aw." Tenzin watched the scene with sad eyes. Ikki then hopped on your back, and snuggled into your back. "I don't want Korra to leave." She murmured, sadly. "I know, she doesn't want to leave either." You said, clearly, before sharply elbowing your uncle. He looked into your (e/c) eyes, and then looked at the sad faces of his kids, before sighing in defeat. "Wait." He walked forward to a surprised Korra. "I have done my best to guide Republic City towards the dream my father had for it. But you are right, it has fallen out of balance since he passed. I thought I should put off your training in order to uphold his legacy. But you are his legacy." He put his hand on Korra's shoulder, and smiled softly at the girl.

"You may stay here and train airbending with me." Korra gasped excitedly as Tenzin continued. "Republic City needs its Avatar once again." "Yes! Thank you! You're the best!" Korra cheered as the Airbending kids cheered with her. She grabbed the airbenders in her arms, giving a giant group hug, and making Tenzin groan at the girl's strength. You laugh as Naga snuggled Korra's back, happy that her girl was happy. You smiled softly from atop of Neo, as Nevermore found you and curled in your lap. "Hey girl, didja miss me?" You coo, running your fingers along her scales, before looking into the stars, smiling. 'Things are going to get crazy, aren't they, Mom?' 

--The Next Day--

You stood behind your Aunt Lin's stern figure as Korra was at a press conference. The Avatar didn't know where to look with all the flashing lights, but a quick glance to you, made her get her confidence back, she cleared her throat, before speaking. "Hello, I'm Korra, your new Avatar." "Does this mean you moved to Republic City?" An older reporter called out. "Were you trying to send a message to the  Triads yesterday?" A green eyed woman asked."Will you be fighting crime, the anti-bending revolution, or both?" Another cried. "Will you be working with Chief Beifong and the police?" A final question rang out. "Uh, yes, I am definitely here to stay, but honestly, I don't have a plan yet. See I'm still in training, but all I know is Avatar Aang meant for this city to be the center of peace and balance in the world, and I believe we can make his dream a reality, and I look forward to serving you! I'm very happy to be here! Thank you, Republic City!" Korra then walked off with Tenzin, as you stood by Lin's side. "That's all, no more questions." Lin demanded, before tugging you along with her. 

You grin finding Neo and Naga playfully wrestling, before sitting next to Korra while Tenzin and Lin were talking quietly. "Good job, Avatar. I know things will start to get better now that you're here. Just promise me one thing." You refused to meet her eyes, but you knew she was listening. Turning toward her, you raised your pinky to her, "Promise me, we'll do this together." You beg as she studied you. Korra sent you a gleaming smile before hooking hers around yours. 

"I promise."

[ellie-s-list]

Dedicated Hearts

Chapter One

A Levi Ackerman x OC story

WARNING: Contains spoilers from the OVA, A Choice With No Regrets

Sitting on their knees before her, Sadie looked the three criminals up and down, going down the row. They weren’t dirty, roughed up. They actually looked less like how you would think a criminal of the Underground would look. Despite their appearances, they can fight, and they have committed crimes. Going from her left to right, Sadie assessed the criminals.

The first one was a dark-haired man, he seemed to be the leader. He was strong-willed and proved to be difficult to take down, Erwin needed Sadie’s assistance so he wouldn’t get his throat slit. He was capable and formidable.

Next was a young redhead. She had two pigtails, and a defiant look in her green eyes. She was spunky but new to the whole “fighting” scene it seemed. Alaina, the soldier who took her down, seemed to be unharmed, not even a scratch on her face.

Lastly, was a young blond-haired man. He had ice-cold eyes, yet knew when to choose his fights. Sadie could recall him telling the girl, Isabel, to save her energy. He could be an advisor to the other man, helping to guide their actions through logic. It was interesting, and a little scary, since Sadie realized that the way the group acted was paralleled to the way she ran her squad.

The criminals were stripped of their maneuver gear, Erwin taking a set and standing in front of the three. Sadie took her position behind the redhead, keeping an eye on them.

“I have some questions to ask of you three,” Erwin held up the set of gear, “Where did you get your hands on this?” He also looked virtually unharmed, but when Sadie came upon the scene, she knew he was fighting with all he had.

Neither of the three answered, all defiant to the Squad Leader’s question. If it were Sadie in the situation, she would most likely do the same.

“Your technique was excellent, who taught you?” Erwin continued pressing, not showing his annoyance with their defiance. Yet again, though, they did not respond. Erwin walked over to the dark-haired man with an undercut, “You’re the leader, right? Have you received military training?” Again, the dark-haired man kept this mouth sealed.

Erwin, assessing his age, looked up to Sadie, “He looks close to your age, did you see him where you were stationed for training?”

Sadie shook her head, “Even if he wasn’t at my post, with the way he moved there would have been word through the teachers.”

Erwin hummed, looking back at the man. He chuckled, “That’s the face of a man who wants to kill me and escape.”

Sadie smirked, she has felt the same way for Erwin before. But it was usually because he stole the last bottle of wine. Not really the escape part though, but same feeling.

“I’d like to avoid any rough treatment if I can,” Erwin said, he put the gear down by a nearby building, he then turned back to the group. He side-eyed Miche, nodding.

Side-stepping, though she knew she wasn’t in the way, Sadie watched as Miche surged forward. He grabbed the hair of the man, pulling it back and then he plunged his face forward and into a puddle.

“I’ll ask again,” Erwin said, his tone lowering. “Where did you learn vertical maneuvering?”

“We didn’t learn it from anyone!” A voice yelled, making Sadie flinched. She looked down and saw the young girl was the culprit. “You think we’re gonna let a civil servant push us around?”

The blond also spoke, “We figured it out so we could survive in this dump.” He then scoffed, “Anyone who doesn't know what sewage tastes like couldn’t understand.”

Sadie blinked, exchanging a look with Erwin. The two followers seemed to look up to their leader with pride, maybe even love. Yet, their leader was still defiant. Maybe if they hurt one of the followers he would speak.

Erwin decided to relent, “My name is Erwin Smith, what are your names?”

They still didn’t speak, and the three Survey Corps members were getting impatient. Miche pushed the man’s head in again, then roughly pulled his head up to look at Erwin.

The Squad Leader tilted his head, “I applaud your determination, though if you keep it up then we’ll have to move on to your comrades.” He made it a point to look at Sadie, the woman moving forward right behind the young girl. Alaina also came forward, and in succession, the two pulled out one of their blades and placed it by their necks. Their other hand was in each of the criminal’s hair, keeping their head still.

“If you’re gonna do it, do it!” The red head shouted, though not moving against Sadie’s blade. “You’re all bastards!”

Sadie tilted her head in consideration, “I try to be.” She muttered.

Erwin gave the other blonde a look, as if sending her the word ‘really?’ Sadie grinned, winking.

Shaking his head, Erwin asked again, now pointed towards the leader, “What is your name?”

It only took a few seconds, but they dragged on as if they were ages. That is when the man spoke, his voice raspy, “It’s Levi.”

Erwin took a step forward, “Levi.” He knelt, “Would you make a deal with me?”

Levi’s eyes widened, Sadie noticing ,/ the flecks of blue in his dark iris’s. He was honestly a beautiful man, even with the sewage water dripping down his cheeks.

“A deal?”

“I won’t ask about your crimes,” Erwin stated. “In return, you will lend me your strength, and join the Survey Corps.”

“If I refuse?”

Erwin stood up, sighing, “I turn you over to the military police. Considering your crimes, I don’t think you or your comrades can expect decent treatment.” Erwin motioned with his hand over to Alaina and Sadie, the two pressing the blades delicately to their criminals’ necks. “Choose whichever path you wish.”

Levi grit his teeth, looking to his comrades. He then looked up to Erwin, venom in his tone as he spoke, “Very well. I’ll join the Survey Corps.”

To say the least, Sadie felt awkward as the criminals were let to stand. Sadie and Alaina sheathed their blades, and Erwin instructed Miche and Matthew to carry the discarded gear.

“What’s going to happen to the ODM gear they have?” Alaina asked Erwin, the man turning to the brunette.

“We’re going to keep it for testing,” He said simply, quickly ending the conversation.

Sadie rolled her eyes, “Now that you successfully took over my day off, that I put in for three months ago, what are we going to do?”

Erwin fought back a grin, the corners of his lips peaking a little, “I guess you’re free for the rest of the day, right?”

Blinking, Sadie cracked her knuckles, “This would be the time I would start heading back to base.”

“So we head back to base.”

Biting her lip, Sadie glared at her fellow Squad Leader. She then held her hand out, “Can I have the keys to the cuffs? Or are we going to let them go when we get above ground?”

Erwin handed her the iron ring with the sets of keys, “We can uncuff them now, but first search them for weapons.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Sadie mocked a salute, turning to Miche, Alaina, and Matthew. “You heard your Squad Leader.”

Later, as the eight of them walked towards the southern entrance, Alaina skipped next to Sadie. The brunette seemed excited, her gait bouncy as she slowed to a walk.

“Sadie, I never knew how good you were at darts!”

Narrowing her eyebrows, Sadie looked down to Alaina, “What?”

“Last night, you were winning every match at the bar.” That statement seemed to pique the interest of Levi. The dark-haired man didn’t put up any resistance, true to his word of compliance.

Putting a hand on her chin as she walked, Sadie tried to think back to the night before. She remembered finishing her paper work, and also her last glass of wine.

“Was I already drunk when I entered the bar?”

Erwin looked back at the that question, now also intrigued.

Alaina rubbed the back of her head, looking away from the young Squad Leader.

“Yeah, actually. You were talking about how you couldn’t drink anymore wine, and then…” She trailed off, gazing towards Erwin.

“And then what?” Erwin asked, smirking towards Sadie.

“You called Erwin a bitch.”

Sadie couldn’t help but laugh at Erwin’s following expression. He quickly slated it to emotionless, but the quick allowance of surprise was enough for Sadie. Erwin looked forward, continuing on as if he didn’t hear anything.

“Seems like something I would do, even if I was drunk,” Sadie hummed. She then looked to Levi, who was still gazing at them. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away, staring at the back of Erwin’s head.

“Yeah, you went on about how he took the last bottle of available wine, so now you had to search for more when you came to town. Then a few guys suggested you played darts with them, and then I guess you made a deal with them,” Alaina explained, her eyes getting big as she continued. “You won of course, but I don’t really know what the deal was and I wanted to see if you could tell me?”

Biting her lip in thought, Sadie crossed her arms. She honestly didn’t remember much of the night before, but it would also be like her to accept any deal.

“It was probably something to benefit me… Who were the two I made a deal with?”

Alaina looked up, thinking, “I think it was Theo and Zach.”

Grunting, Sadie shook her head, “It was definitely something bad then. I hate those two.”

“They do make me uncomfortable.”

“Exactly, bitches get what they earn.”

Alaina tilted her head, “So what did they earn?”

“I think I get to beat them up, honestly I’ll do it anyway even if that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Even drunk you get even?” Matthew piped up, laughing gently.

Sadie nodded, “I serve justice in any form, Matthew.” She then smirked, “Even when I’m dead, I’ll give you hell from the grave.”

Posted 6/27/21, Story by @bakugosbreathmint

do not repost my content, reblogs are fine

[cultureaddictconfessions]

Reporting for Romance ~ EXO’s Lay x Reader

{{Since it’s our sweet healing unicorn’s birthday today, I wanted to write a short fic centered around him. Being a very stylish ambassador-around-the-world, Lay shows up at a variety of fashion-related events, so this setting is where the reader (Y/N and Y/F/LN) is a fashion journalist who catches his eye at a show.}}

———————————————————————————————————

It was still surreal to be covering the Valentino show for S/S this year, but when you queued up with your press pass, it became a more concrete happenstance. Your editor in chief would be sitting toward the front row, of course, while you were deposited elsewhere. Your phone was fully charged and at the ready for any recording purposes, and your notebook and pen were stashed in the purse precariously dangling off your shoulder. You nervously presented the badge and allowed security to rifle through your bag before crossing into the hallway.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and you could see the bright, verdant hedges wrapping around outside the glass walls of the atrium that was playing runway for the day. Seats were set out around the room on the hardwood floors. The walls were in elegant white French style, and complementary to the mirrors and chandeliers that dotted the décor. Despite how uncomplicated and traditional everything looked, you felt overwhelmed. You’d attended fashion shows before, but you’d bought your ticket with your own money so you could write up a piece to try to make a name for yourself and score a job.

Now that you had, you were choking on imposter syndrome. You stood for a moment in the hallway, tugging at the hem of your dress, which suddenly felt too short despite getting the seal of approval from your boss. You crossed the floor to a mirror to check that you were just having a minor identity crisis and not that you were styled incorrectly. You brushed over your clothes with your fingers to smooth anything that felt out of place and did the same to your hair. You pouted as you looked at yourself, still unconvinced at your reflection. Another face blurred in the corner of your periphery as you were tapping at your lipstick.

 “You’re putting the mirror to good use, but you already looked nice when you came over.” Your face flushed a shade that matched the tube perched between your fingers. You turned to identify the man speaking to you and felt your heart do a somersault in your chest. He was strikingly handsome, to say the least, draped in a long, graphic coat punctuated by crisp white sneakers. His golden skin was smooth, and he didn’t have a hair out of place. But the thing that wrung your heart was his warm, dimpled smile. You sucked in your lip as you tried to remember how to breathe. Finally, you managed a chuckle that was at a higher pitch than normal.

“You can never be too careful at these types of events. One shoe unbuckled and the internet will crucify you,” you tucked your hair shyly behind your ear and let a smile pull up your lips, “thank you though. That makes me feel a little better. I just don’t want to embarrass my boss and have her banish me to the fashion closet again.” The young man laughed, and you felt some of the tension drop off your shoulders.  “Are you a magazine reporter then?” “I am! This is my first time covering a show for my publication. I think that’s why I’m on-edge. I want to work hard and prove my worth so I can come back again, you know?” His eyes widened at this, but he nodded as the dimpled resurfaced.  “Wow, first time! So exciting! I hope you will really enjoy it. I love to see all the beautiful clothes, so it is nice to get an invitation. I’m Lay Zhang, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

Your companion held out his hand for you to shake, and you took it gently with a sheepish grin. “I, uh… I know, actually. I’ve heard your music. You’re very talented!” his whole face brightened at your admission, but there was an expectancy lingering before you remembered yourself, “oh right! I’m Y/F/LN. It’s lovely to meet you too. That coat looks so sharp on you!”  “Thank you so much. I liked the tiger because it reminds me of China, and I like animals,” he hadn’t dropped your hand but continued talking, although he seemed to be a little restrained with his speech, perhaps because English wasn’t his first language, “I’m surprised you’ve heard my work, but I’m happy to hear that you like it! I always want to work very hard and do my best, so I understand how you feel. I’m sure your writing will be great. You speak nicely.”

You had to turn your face away a little to hide the blush creeping back across it. Reluctantly, you let your hand slide out of Lay’s as you fiddled with the zipper of your bag. “I listen to a fair amount of KPop actually, so I found you through that. I can tell you really pour your effort into everything you do, and I hope that more people can see its beauty like I do,” you flashed your teeth at him, happy to direct the conversation onto him for the moment, “I’m sure the show will be amazing, but we shall see if I can do it justice. If you see it, you can tell me what you think. Criticism is encouraged.” You laughed softly.

Lay’s perfect mouth shaped into an O and he took a minute to process everything you said.  “Ah, do you like EXO? I miss my members… it’s nice to get to make music in my home country, though, so I can represent it well. It would be really nice to share my music with the world. Your wish is very kind; I wish for it, too,” there was a wistfulness in his tone, but he also seemed very heartfelt, which only made you like him more, “when I read it, I will think of you and send you a message of praise, Y/N! You should believe in yourself more.” “Yes, I love you guys! Awww that’s hard. There are pros and cons to everything I suppose. I think you’re doing a really great job balancing everything. And now you’re here as a brand ambassador too, right? I’m sure China and your members are really proud of you. You should be proud of everything you’re doing and have done… and will do! If I have to be confident, then you do, too,” you leaned forward and bumped his shoulder with your own, giggling, “I would love to hear from you no matter what you think. You can message me whenever.”

Before Lay could answer, a few people swept by and noticed him, calling out greetings. He frowned to you for a moment before turning and waving congenially. It seemed like everyone was migrating into the main hall. When the passersby had dissipated, he looked back at you.  “I would like to talk to you more, but I don’t think we’re sitting so close to each other and my English takes a little longer to express what I really want to say. Will you go to the party afterwards? I don’t know if you’re busy and will continue working…” It was your turn to gape at him, but you quickly schooled it into a neutral expression.

“Ummm I think I am? I have to double-check with my boss, actually. Can I tell you my answer after the show or are they going to rush you off to start mingling?” You dragged your foot in front of you on the floor, feeling a little bit like a silly schoolgirl.  “I will come find you, but let’s exchange contacts now just in case it’s difficult to coordinate.” He slid his mobile smoothly out of his pocket and went to pull up a VCard, but he paused as he looked at the screen for a second. He shut off the screen and held his hand out to you, which had you puzzled until you realized he was asking for your phone. You dipped into your purse and mimicked the steps he’d just taken before placing it in his palm, fingers brushing. He tapped away in concentration before handing it gently back to you and smiling.

 “I thought this would be easier because I don’t know if you read Chinese. Please send me a message and tell me it’s you so I can save your information to my phone! We can talk about things… and maybe you can help me practice my English?” It was quite a sight to see Lay beginning to blush, and you wished you could replicate that expression many times over. “You’re so thoughtful. Xièxiè. I’ll send it before I sit down, okay,” you reached out and squeezed his shoulder affectionately, positively beaming, “your English is great, but I’d definitely be happy to help with whatever you need, so no worries! Tell me whatever you can think of and then I won’t focus on feeling so awkward being here where I don’t belong.” You snorted, shaking your head. The glow returned to his face when you thanked him in Mandarin and made your promises, but he looked a little concerned at the end. It was his turn to reach out, placing a hand on your arm to command your attention. Your eyes glazed a little bit.

“Don’t say that, Y/N. You are a fashion reporter! Your company wanted you to be here. You are meant to be here. Don’t doubt yourself. Do your best and don’t forget to enjoy yourself. I will be cheering for you in my heart. Keep smiling and everything will be okay… okay?” Lay spoke without any frills, so sincere that it made you want to believe him. You had to bite back the urge to cry because he was so sweet and encouraging. Your heart was melting. “Okay. I’m just going to trust that you’re right and that I can do this. I’m really happy you came over and talked to me, Lay. It’s made me feel so much better. I’m really grateful.” Lay let his hand trail down your arm before returning to his side. You felt the warmth radiating off of him, and he seemed very pleased at your turnaround. He pouted his lips for a moment.  “I’m happy too. I think we should go in now, though. Can I walk you to your seat?” “Oh! You don’t have to do that, you’re like, an actual important person! It seems like a lot of people wanted to chat with you. I feel bad that I stole you away from them for so long.”  “I’m sure I will get to talk to them at some point, maybe during the show or the party. I just want to make sure you find your way and don’t feel so nervous. Come on, let’s go.”

Lay turned and placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you forward at his side. You matched his pace as you crossed under an archway and headed past the scattering of other attendees. You peeked sideways to get a glimpse of Lay in profile, not quite believing your luck. Once you neared the seats, he helped you locate your company tag. It took a few minutes. “You’re some kind of special, Lay Zhang. I’m gonna text you right now, and then we’ll see each other after, okay? You just go and look pretty! I have to turn on my ace reporter mode now!” You brandished your fists, psyching yourself up. Lay laughed, bumping a fist against yours in agreement.  “I look nice because of my team, Y/N, it’s nothing,” his other hand finally slipped away from your back, a little to your chagrin, “I will look forward to it. Work hard, Miss Reporter! Then we can have fun together at the party… I hope your boss will let you come!” You covered your cheeks with your hands and grinned at him, shaking your head in amusement. “You’re too modest. Enjoy the show and we’ll catch up in a little while!” You clasped your hands together and bowed your head to him. He returned it and then walked off with a bright smile. You dropped down into your seat after you watched his retreating back, grabbing your phone. You sent off two messages—one informing your editor that you’d arrived, and the second to Lay, for him to save your contact.

[[From: Y/F/LN To: Zhang “Lay” Yixing

Ni-hao, Lay! It’s Y/F/LN, the ace reporter. Tell me afterwards which outfit you like the most, and I’ll finagle a party invitation from Kristen. ;)

Sent 2:00PM]]

You tucked your phone into your purse after silencing it and turned to face the center. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the scenery and all the beautiful people and beautiful clothes. You were about to write a note in your notebook until you caught sight of a very handsome young Chinese man looking at you and waving. Lay smiled and gave you a thumbs up. All you could do was grin stupidly and wave back. You were somewhat glad he wasn’t sitting anywhere near you because you wouldn’t have been able to concentrate if he had been. Another beautiful person came over to him and struck up a conversation, so you turned back to your paper and began writing what you saw.

The show was a confectionary of dreamy designs in vibrant colors and sumptuous materials. You noted some people were near tears. It was probably the highlight of your life thus far, besides your earlier meeting with Lay, of course. As people began to disperse, you slipped out your phone. Your editor, Kristen, had responded to your message and had you nearly hopping in glee. You looked across the panorama of the room but didn’t spot your prince of China. Collecting your things, you slowly made your way toward the entrance, although you got caught up quite a few times by writers and photographers from other publications. Kristen told you to meet her outside so you could take a car over together, but your first priority was to find Lay.

By the time you’d made it into the exiting crowd, you felt like you’d never find anyone. Just then, you felt a hand hook in the crook of your elbow. You turned and faced the stranger.  “You were difficult to locate in all the people, Miss Reporter! You’re tinier than all the tall guys, you know? But here you are, I’m glad.” Lay was smiling again, and you joined him easily. “I couldn’t find you either and you’re not short! Hey, guess what,” you paused as the two of you wriggled past the other people, Lay’s hand still on your arm so you wouldn’t get separated, “Kristen said we’re going to the after party, so we get to hang out more!! Yay!!” You bobbed your head with excitement. Lay looked like a fish as he exclaimed his satisfaction.  “That’s great, Y/N! I will meet you there then. Go safely and I’ll see you soon.”

When you spotted Kristen, you took Lay’s hands and squeezed them between yours, the joy written all over your face. You didn’t think today could be topped; you felt really lucky. “You too, Lay. Text me and I’ll come find you this time!” He nodded and you parted with full hearts, vibrating with anticipation for your reunion. You ambled over to Kristen, who raised an eyebrow when you appeared at her side.   “Who was that good-looking man you were talking to, Y/N? He seemed very fond of you.” “Ah! He’s a Chinese musician who’s in a Kpop group. He’s a Valentino brand ambassador, too, actually! He’s really sweet. He asked me to practice English with him since he’s going to be at the party as well.” You covered your mouth to downplay your smile, but Kristen saw everything. She chuckled softly, patting you on the shoulder.   “Well, regardless of all of that he is, he was clearly taken with you. Behave yourself… but don’t forget to take advantage of the moment. Who knows… you might be able to continue helping with his English after today.” Kristen winked at you and your face bloomed red as a nervous chuckle escaped. Shaking your head, you nodded to her to lead the way to the car. Your brain was struggling to absorb what she’d just said, so you’d have to take the car ride over to cool down before you got to see your new companion again. And so the magic continued…

———————————————————————————————————

{{I hope you liked this scenario; please leave a comment or reblog if you did! Watching interviews with Lay for research and he is just so humble and precious; it made me so happy to do a fic with him. Don’t forget to support his solo stuff as well as his work with EXO because he’s doubly-amazing and so hardworking! Happy 29th birthday you beautiful soul—I’m wishing that your dream to be on stage at the Grammy’s for your music comes true! Saranghae <3 <3 EXOXO}}

[hoonieistrash]

astilbe

pairing: persephone! jimin x hades! reader 

word count: 8k 

genre: FLUFF, a bit of angst

tags: jungkook has a crush on the reader so angst for kookoo :(, soft fluff, flowers, female pronouns, not like the tale where hades took or kidnapped persephone, you are an awkward bean, jimin is a softie for you :(

synopsis: Whoever said the god of the underworld was a man? No, no. You were a goddess, the goddess that your brother trapped in the land of the dead. Jimin was the complete opposite of you, the god of spring and the son of Demeter. He only heard about you through his mother and the other gods and goddesses and he was mad, they really did not give any justice to your beauty, not one bit.

alternative synopsis: Jimin was in awe with you and being the curious thing he is, decided to follow you to the Underworld. 

author’s note: It’s 5 AM when I finished this :)) THS IS MY FIRST LONG FIC I PUBLISHED SO YEAH ALSO, this is unedited and English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry :// I just love persephone and hades :( JIMIN IS A CUTIE and IM SORRY KOOKIE :(( aNYWAYS! I hope you enjoy this!

You sighed in your throne made of cold hard steel inside your dark throne-room, waiting for any mortal that committed a crime so bad that you, the goddess of the underworld, have to judge for yourself. You were dressed in a black robe as black soft silk flowed behind you while fine jewelry adorned you to match your status of Queen of the Underworld and Goddess of Death. A black crown sat on your head elegantly.

The atmosphere was like any other day in the Underworld, melancholy and the stench of death filling the air. You looked at your side as you see your loyal companion, Cerberus, sleeping in the dark corner. The poor pup was bored, nothing to do but sleep, eat and scare mortals.

“Mistress!” You heard the echo of your friend’s voice in the halls before even entering your throne room. Your cold eyes turned to the main entrance, expression hard and unreadable. 

With a bang of the heavy steel door, scaring and waking up Cerberus, in came your friend and servant, but you did not like calling him that but the latter did not care, dare to say that he even liked it, that little masochist. The mortals called him Thanatos but you liked his real name better, Jungkook. You like calling him Kookie, his bashful expression always amusing you greatly. 

The young daemon entered with all of his glory, two large magnificent black wings perched on his back as his black robe fluttering below his knees. Big doe eyes staring at you, a large smile on his lips, confusing you. Normally, Jungkook did not like showing these emotions, too stubborn, saying that he was a daemon and did not exhibit such feelings. 

He ran towards you making Cerberus perked up, his three head looking at the winged spirit. Jungkook looked at him and searched in his bag, throwing a lump of large meat towards the huge canine. The three heads fought each other for the meat on the side as Jungkook stopped in front of you, kneeling in one knee. 

“What’s all the fuss about, Jungkook?” 

He merely smiled and searched again in his bag, giving a scroll to his mistress, “Hermes gave this to me” 

You arched a fine brow at him, taking the scroll from him and read it. Eyebrows furrowing at every word you read but Jungkook did not notice, blabbering in front of you.

“–He just gave it to me and left, I think that Zeus is finally agreeing to let us expand our land, Mistress! It would be-” 

The loud noise of the paper being torn echoed in the quiet room, Jungkook’s wide eyes stared at his furious Mistress and frowned. 

“I-It’s not an agreement, is it?…” He asked quietly, a lump forming in his throat when he saw you stand up, eyes colder and deadlier than the River Styx. 

“That fool! If he thinks that he can keep me locked in here then he’s greatly mistaken! I’ll destroy him!” You screamed, black flames bursting around you startling Jungkook and Cerberus. The former looked at you with scared eyes, “M-Mistress…” 

You turned to him, eyes filled with fury but it softened when you saw his scared eyes, your black flames calmed down. You sat again, defeated by your younger brother. 

Jungkook bit his lips at the sight of you, hating the way you slumped in your throne. You always wore yourself as a dignified and noble character, exuding an ethereal beauty, not like the mortals described you, but this sight made Jungkook want to tear Zeus himself.

He could not help but fall for you in these past few thousands of years, you always helped people and brought justice to the fallen ones but Zeus trapped you here in the Underworld, only being permitted to go to Earth every 300 years and it was only for a day. 

“Leave me, Jungkook” Your weakened voice broke him. He rose up from his knelt position and looked at you with anguished

“B-But Mistress! I can help you! Please don’t shut me out–” 

“I said, leave me. Do not make me repeat it thrice.” Your firm voice cut him off. He swallowed the lump on his throat and nodded, hanging his head in defeat. 

“O-Of course, Mistress.” 

Jungkook went out of the room, the heavy doors closing behind him and left you alone with Cerberus who was whimpering on the side. 

Cerberus walked up to you slowly, his whimpers catching your attention as you turned to him with sad eyes. He slumped his three heads on your lap, your soft hands caressing one of the heads. 

“If my little brother really thinks he can keep me here then I’ll make him realize just how much I belong here after all” 

Jimin sat in a great meadow filled with flowers, picking pretty ones with a gentle smile as his soft blond hair fluttered with the wind. He hummed a soft tune, matching the serene atmosphere around him. He was a young god, son of Demeter and Zeus, some mortals called him Persephone while his mother called him Kore. He always hated the name his mother called him. Demeter always wanted a daughter but her dreams were shattered when Jimin came. 

Demeter raised him like a daughter, bringing him pretty robes and jewelry fit for a goddess. He liked them actually but the fact that his mother brought it for her daughter and not him hurt. 

His smile faltered when he remembered his mother but quickly masked it and continued to distract himself with the flowers, one hand clutching softly a bouquet of it while one caressed the planted ones. 

“Jiminie~” A deep voice called out, his smile widened at the familiarity of it. He looked up and saw his best friend, Hermes, but his real name was Taehyung. 

“Taehyung! Nice of you to accompany me this fine afternoon~” Jimin chirped, standing up gently, Taehyung landed in front of him a bit clumsily with his winged shoes, his golden winged staff swinging around almost hitting Jimin in the face. 

“Woah there. Easy with that thing” Jimin teased, pushing it away before it hit his face. Taehyung smiled sheepishly at him before composing himself, blowing an icy blue hair away from his bronzed face

“How’s my favorite god doing?” Taehyung asked, looking at Jimin’s hand which held a beautiful arrangement of flowers and his messy golden hair with small flowers attached to it. 

Jimin’s soft blue eyes rolled at him, shaking his head at the mischievousness of his best friend. 

“Flower picking, as usual, Taehyung” And then went back to his flowers. Taehyung smiled sadly at his words and sat beside him. 

“You know your mother is just protective, that is all” The young messenger tried to cheer up. Jimin smiled at him weakly, “I know Tae… I know…” 

The taller god frowned at his smile then pursed his lips. Thinking for a moment as he studied the young god, then stood up, dusting his white immaculate robe. Jimin stared at him with confusion at the sudden action, “You’re going already?” 

Taehyung smirked at him and said, “You mean, we’re going already.” 

Jimin gaped at him, he knows that Taehyung was mischievous and was always up to tricks and pranks but he did not think that it was to this extent.

“M-Mother will have your head if she found out you took me away from here” 

“If she finds out~”

The young god shook his head, not wanting Taehyung to get in problem with his mother. He was the only companion he has and he does not want him to go away too, forbidden by his mother. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes at his friend, “Come on Jimin! The quicker you get up, the quicker we can get back” 

Jimin gulped at that, looking around the meadow which he only knew since he was but a young sapling. He looked up again to his nodding best friend who was urging him to stand up. 

“F-Fine… Only if we get back before mother gets back!” 

Taehyung smirked at that, “You’re talking to the fastest god, darlin’~” 

Jimin stifled a laugh at his words and stood up. Taehyung waved his staff and in a blink of an eye, they were gone. The young god looked around at the new meadow they were in and behind them was a forest. Jimin admired the landscape, it was certainly different from the meadow he knows, it was vibrant with more color and it has a forest next to it. 

Taehyung looked at Jimin with a nervous smile, “You like it? We can go somewhere else if you want–” 

“No! This is perfect! It’s so pretty, Taehyung… Thank you” Jimin uttered out. Taehyung smiled at him, his best friend was too kind and too easy to impress that it hurts his sly heart.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do what you want to do, Jiminie~” 

Jimin grinned at him and jogged to the meadow, sitting down at the softer grass, caressing the more vibrant flowers and flowers he only knew from the scrolls his mother has. He was eager to know more about them, picking the flowers unfamiliar to him, humming once again but more cheerful this time. 

Taehyung smiled softly at his preoccupied friend, he was about to sit down beside the blond god when he heard the bell that alerts him when Zeus wants him to deliver something. The blue-haired god groaned at it catching Jimin’s attention who looked up at him with big eyes. 

“Sorry, Jiminie. I have to go somewhere real quick. I’ll be back before you know it! Don’t go anywhere!” Taehyung said and flew off before Jimin can even say anything. The young god was left alone in the middle of nowhere as he blinks, not believing that his best friend just left him. 

He sighed at that and shook his head, telling himself that Taehyung will be back shortly and that he doesn’t need to worry. He went back to picking the flowers. But then Jimin’s eyes caught a movement in the dark forest, he looks up and his breath was caught in his throat, he stood up, trying to get a closer look at the beauty.

Going in the forest was the Goddess of Underworld in all of your glory, silk robes and fine jewelry adorned your body but it was not as fine as your beauty. Jimin never saw anyone so beautiful yet look so sad. Your long (h/c) hair fluttering behind you as a black crown was perched high in your head. Your lips were a luscious red, shaming any fully bloomed rose. But what caught Jimin’s attention the most was your eyes. He never saw anything so filled with melancholy but still looked so beautifully cold. Dull (e/c) eyes but how it shone when the light hit it, Jimin wanted to see it up close. 

You turned your head and locked eyes with the young god as he gasped but never removing his eyes away from yours. Your eyes widen ever so slightly at him, you never saw this young god all your life. Another child of Zeus, you presume, and with the thought of your younger brother, you scowled. Unintentionally, at Jimin, but the young god thought it was for him. He shrinks at the intensity of the scowl with it’s matching cold glare. 

Your eyes softened when you saw him back away from you, your eyes turned sad once again before turning away and towards the forest to go to the underworld, back to your own personal prison. 

Jimin saw you go away as he panicked, wanting to follow you but stopped when he remembered Taehyung and his mother. He bit his lip, contemplating whether he should follow you or not, but any thought vanished when he saw you get further in the forest, almost disappearing from his sight. He quickly followed you, the bouquet of flowers still in his hands. 

You scowled as you stalked away to the entrance of your prison, going in the dark entryway, your robes fluttering behind you. Jimin saw you go into the hole, the scary and dark entrance gave him the frights but also thrill, never experiencing something like this. 

He followed you without you noticing as he looked around the different and dark land, all he saw was in ruin as an inky black river flowed beside him. In the further distance, he saw a dark castle standing majestically. Inside the inky waters, he thought he saw faces, groaning in misery. When he saw it, he followed you, scared out of his wits.

You quickened your strut when you saw Charon in his boat, his dark hood hiding his face as his bony hand grasped his ore. 

You stepped in his large boat, sitting on the seats, giving him a golden coin. Charon chuckled, raspy as if he never used it in a thousand years.

“My apologies, Mistress, but I think you owe me than just one gold coin.” He said. You were confused, looking at him with a puzzled look. 

“What? What are you talking about, Charon.” You stated, not in any mood to joke around. 

“There’s two of you in the boat, Mistress” 

You whipped your head back and locked eyes with the same soft blue eyes you saw earlier. You furrowed your brows at that, frowning at him.

“What are you doing here, little god? You don’t belong here. Go back.” You ordered in a cold voice making him flinch but he did not move an inch.

“M-My name is Jimin, not little god. A-And I won’t go back. I just want to explore…” 

You looked at him, bewildered, you did not just hear him say that. Who does this little god think he is. 

“Explore? If you want to explore then go back. You do not want to explore the Underworld unless you want to die, little god.”

Jimin looked at you with wide eyes, “Underworld? This is the underworld?” He asked with surprise

Your fine brows arched, annoyed, “Yes, now go back.” 

Jimin pouted at you, not fazed by your coldness, already getting used to it. 

“Can’t you take me with you? Just for a bit…” 

You run a hand to your face, stressed. Jimin bit his lip, “It’s just… My mother doesn’t let me go anywhere… It is my first time going out…” 

You removed your hand away from your face, looking at his sad expression. Your once unbeating heart started to pump uncharacteristically. You sighed, defeat by those doe eyes. 

“Fine.” You grumbled out as Jimin grinned at you, excitedly. You dug into your robe to get another coin and gave it Charon who watched the scene with amusement. 

“Now, start rowing.” You ordered, Charon nodding and moved his giant ore. 

Jimin cheered quietly as the boat moved. He studied the place with his soft blue eyes as his blond hair waving a bit.

You looked at him in the corner of your eyes and rolled your eyes at your decision. 

‘I’m going to regret this…’ You thought, letting out a small sigh.

“What’s this?” You heard Jimin asked. You looked back nonchalantly but almost had a heart attack when you saw his hand reaching out for the black inky waters of the River Styx. You grabbed his hand in alarm, “Don’t touch that! You want to poison yourself?” 

Jimin did not hear you though, he was too focused on your linked hands. Your cold hands grabbing his warm ones gently, making his heart flutter as he blushed, unfamiliar with any skin contact with others beside Taehyung and his mother. You followed his eyes and saw your hands together, you let go of his in embarrassment. You turned your head forward, once again, hiding your growing blush. 

“Don’t touch anything, do you understand.” You said, feeling him nod behind you. Jimin frowned, already missing your cold touch. Your touch was very distinct, the only one who’s touch was cold but Jimin liked it.

“O-Okay, I understand” 

Charon smiled a bit under his hood, his Mistress was acting so differently that it was amusing. The Goddess of Death and Queen of the Underworld disarmed by a young unknown god. 

The boat ride was mostly filled with an awkward silence as it was accompanied by Jimin’s soft humming. The boat stopped in front of the castle as you got off of it with Jimin following clumsily after you. 

“Mistress! You’re back!” You heard Jungkook’s voice from the castle as your eyes widen, how on earth are you going to explain to the daemon your unexpected companion. Jungkook was known for his unrivaled loyalty to you and jealousy with your flings. 

Charon chuckled at your dilemma as he rowed away. Jimin looked at the hooded boatman as he heard his chuckle, tilting his head in confusion then turned back to you. 

The winged daemon arrived in front of you with a wide smile but it dropped when he saw the pretty young god. His dark brows furrowed with mixed emotions bubbling in him. 

“Who’s this?” His cold voice asked as you sighed, it was starting. Jimin smiled at him, nervously, and waved meekly. Jungkook scowled, disgusted by his innocence. 

“This is Jimin. He followed me on the way back here.” You said, walking away as Jungkook and Jimin followed you with the former looking at you with horrified eyes. 

“What do you mean, Mistress? He’s staying with us?” He asked making Jimin look at you.

“If he wants. Or if he wants to go back, then escort him out.” You said, looking at Jimin who stared at you with wide surprised eyes. 

“He wants to go back, I’m sure of it!” Jungkook exclaimed, looking at Jimin with a hard glare, daring him to oppose his words. Jimin smiled apologetically at Jungkook as the winged male deflated at that.

“I-If you permit, I would like to stay for a bit” Jimin whispered out, you turned back to him, studying him with enigmatic (e/c) eyes. You nodded and continued your way.

“M-Mistress, b-but–” 

“Ready a room for him, Kookie.” And with that, you disappeared into the dark. Jungkook’s wings fell at your words as he frowned, dejected. 

He sighed and tried to suck it up, reminding himself that this newcomer will be out of his feathers in no time. Oh, how wrong he was.

It has been a week and Jimin was still in the Underworld, putting his flowers around the dark and gloomy palace. Jungkook did not want to admit it but Jimin was some nice company, he was pure and innocent and Jungkook likes teasing him and teaching him new ways. 

They were sitting at the back of the palace, at the courtyard with Jimin making flowers appear in the slowly coming into life grass and plants. Jungkook watched his new friend companion in awe, not really used to flowers in the Underworld. 

“How do you do that?” Jungkook asked him, Jimin smiled and sat beside the winged daemon. 

“I’m the god of spring, silly~” He chirped, his pureness out of place in the Underworld. 

 “Hmm, right. You’re Demeter’s son” Jungkook boredly said, looking nonchalant now. Jimin shook his head at him, his smile never faltering. 

He bit his lips, contemplating whether he should ask his question or not. He looked at Jungkook who brushed his black wings gently. 

“Hey, Jungkook… Can you tell me something about, (Y/n)?” He asked making Jungkook stop his brushing and turned his eyes to Jimin. He raised a brow, “Why?” 

He blushed a bit and stuttered out, “N-Nothing! Just curious” 

Jungkook peered into him, untrustingly, but sighed and nodded. He pursed his lips, thinking about what to say. 

“Well, Mistress is the Goddess of the Underworld–” 

“I already knew that.”

“Shh, do you want to know or not?” 

Jimin rolled his eyes playfully at him as Jungkook continued, “She is the eldest daughter of Rhea and Cronus which makes her the older sister of Zeus and your mother.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen at the new information. Jungkook then looked at him with sad eyes, “Zeus, imprisoned Mistress in the Underworld and took the skies for himself. Mistress always thinks for the better and just not for her advantage. She believes in justice and fairness. It might not look like it but she’s really lonely and sad…” 

Jungkook finished with a quiet voice, Jimin looking at the castle with sorrow, he then looked at Jungkook. 

“She can’t get out of here? But I saw her before in the meadows” 

Jungkook sighed, “Zeus only permits her to a certain degree to where she can go and she can only roam freely every 300 years. Today is her 233 year, once it hit 300 again, she can go for a day around Earth.” 

Jimin nodded sadly at the information, looking back to the dark gloomy castle once again, ’you’re just like me then… Imprisoned and longing for freedom…’ 

Jimin stood in front of your chamber door with a handful of flowers in his hand, his heart beating a bit too fastly for his liking as sweat started to appear in his hands. 

“Okay, Jimin you can do this. You just have to give her the flowers.” He talked to himself and with a breath, he raised his hand ready to knock but never touching the door.

He groaned as he dropped his hand, looking at the flowers in his other hand. He sighed and looked at the door, imagining you he was talking to. 

“Hi, (Y/n)! Funny bumping into you–… No, no! I’m in front of her door, bumping into you? Really, Jimin?” He scolded himself as he tried again.

“Hi, (Y/n)! I grew some flowers in your courtyard and I wanted to give these to you–”

“Who are you talking to?” The same cold and smooth voice that made his heart flutter called out making him yelp as he turned around in surprise. 

You looked at him with the same eyes, shocked at his sudden yelp. Jimin then fixed his posture and cleared his throat. Smiling shyly at you, he started, “Hi, (Y/n)! I- Um… I grew some flowers in your courtyard, these are for you!” 

Shoving the flowers in your arms as he smiled nervously at you. You looked at the pretty flowers in your hands with a soft blush, never have really received flowers or any kind of gifts from men. 

“T-Thank you, they’re very beautiful, Jimin” You whispered, a smile appearing on your usually stone-cold face making Jimin gape at you. 

You raised a brow, “What?” 

Jimin gulped, “Y-You have a very beautiful smile…” 

Your blush worsens that you thought your head will explode from all the heat going to your face. Jimin bit his lips, smiling as he looked down at his shoes, feeling timid.

“Y-you have a very beautiful smile too…” Jimin heard as he whipped his head up at you. The sight was almost to endearing for his poor heart. 

You were blushing, a beautiful contrast to your (s/c) skin and black robes. Eyes, warmer than before and lips quirking up in a shy smile. 

He gulped and looked at the flowers, pointing at it. “I picked alstroemerias for friendship and daffodils for new beginnings,” Jimin said, as he removed the sad meaning of daffodils, something he knew he has when he saw you rejecting men and daemons alike. 

You looked at him, confused and looked at the flowers then back at the smiling blond. 

“Flowers have meanings?” 

Jimin gaped at you, thinking you might be joking but the unchanging expression on your face said otherwise. 

“Y-You’re not joking?” 

You shook your head, looking at him with confusion. What was the big deal with not knowing that flowers having meanings? You were the Goddess of the Death and the Queen of the Underworld, it was given that flowers and all nice things were out of your forte. 

Jimin grabbed your free cold hand in his making you gasped at the contact. He then dragged you, “W-What are you doing?! Unhand me!” 

“Shh! I’m going to show you something!” 

You shut your mouth at that, confused at the sudden confidence of the young god. You let him drag you to the courtyard which was different from what you remembered. Last time you were here, there was only darkness and filled with cold air. Ruins complementing the dried up plants. 

But now, it was vibrant. There was color other than black in the courtyard. It was also warmer than any part of the Underworld as you welcomed the warm air that nipped on your cold skin. 

Jimin smiled at you, “I retouched it, I hope you don’t mind” 

You looked around with a soft smile, “It’s pretty. Plants always die when I am the one trying… They hate me..” You replied making Jimin giggle

“No, they don’t” 

“You can speak to plants now, little god?” You teased as he pouts at you. 

“Don’t call me that! I’m taller than you.” 

“Barely.” 

Jimin whined at your words, you chuckle at him. He stopped, studying you. It was the first time he heard you chuckle. It was melodic, smooth, and pleasant to the ears. It was now official, it is Jimin’s favorite sound to hear. 

“So what do you want me to see, Jimin?” He snapped out of his thought and ohh-ed. 

“Oh yeah! Here, sit next to me” He said, patting the now vibrant grass beside him. You rolled your eyes, playfully, and sat down gently next to him. 

“Let’s start with the basic!” Jimin chirped

You looked at him, confused, but let him continue. With the wave of his hand, a rose appeared in the grass. 

“Roses means love and romance. Pink roses, though, means gratitude and joy while white roses mean purity and youthfulness but daisies also symbolize purity but it also means beauty and fertility” 

You looked at him with amusement, nodding at his words. Jimin took that as the cue to continue and with a smile, he brought another flower.

“Anemone symbolizes protection from evil and ill wishes” 

 Jimin’s flower lessons continued for an hour or so, none of them realizing the time as they enjoyed each other’s company. 

You laughed at the last flower Jimin showed you, “I never knew flowers could have such bad meanings. Petunias, I should give dozens of them to Zeus”

Jimin’s smile faltered at the mention of his father, this, however, did no go unnoticed to you. Looking at him with worry and you asked, “What’s wrong?”  

“I-I… You really do not know?” 

You raised a brow at that, “No… What is the matter, little god?” you asked softly, leaning closer to him.

“Zeus is my father…” You stared at him, studying Jimin, who fidgeted under your gaze. 

“You’re definitely more handsome than your father then. Zeus looks like an egg.” Your lighthearted response surprised Jimin. He thought when you knew, you’d surely kick him out and he’ll lose a friend, forever.

“Y-You are not mad?” 

You smiled at him, “Would you rather me be?” 

Jimin shook his head, quickly at your words making you giggle at his quick response. 

“You are not your father and you do not have any connection to our fight. Do not worry too much, little god” You said, your soft smile resting on your face. 

Jimin blinked his tears away, laughing with you. You looked at him and held his cheek gently, “Don’t cry, little god. I’m not mad” 

Jimin leaned his cheek to your hand, nuzzling to your cold touch. You looked at him with such softness that it made his heart hurt. His heart beating a bit too fastly, he was afraid that you might hear it. You leaned a bit closer, his breath hitching.

“(Y/n)…” He trailed as he also leaned closer, trying to meet you halfway. The cold brush of your lips made him shiver in desire. 

“Mistress!” Jungkook’s voice made you two jump away, blushing at the interruption. The winged daemon stopped at his tracks when he saw the blush on your faces. He raised a brow, “Was I interrupting something?” 

“No! no!” Jimin shook his head, a mad red covering his cheeks and ears. You cleared your throat as you stood up, dusting your silk robe. 

“What is it, Jungkook?” 

The urgency came back to Jungkook and exclaimed, “Zeus wants to talk to you!” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, you nodded and strolled out the courtyard but not before bidding Jimin goodbye. 

“Thank you for your flower lesson, Jimin. It was greatly appreciated.” And with that you were gone, being followed by Jungkook who looked at Jimin with a small glare.

Jimin smiled a bit at your words and gazed lovingly at your retreating figure, sighing.

You entered Olympus with a stoic face, Jungkook following you. Zeus stood in the throne-room his strong back facing you. The tall man then turned to you with a large smile, “Ah! (Y/n), glad you can come!” He said to you, giving you a hug. You groaned at the strong grip your brother gave you. 

“Jin, please. Don’t.” 

Jin released you from the hug, his smile never faltering at your coldness, reminding you of someone… 

“Dear sister! Cheer up, today is a party! You are here–” 

“Stop it with this nonsense and just tell me what you need” You interrupted making Jin stop. 

He frowned at you, “Always the mood-killer, dear sister.” 

You glared at him, he shrugged as he went to the table to get more wine. You followed your brother, sighing, already tired. 

“You see, (Y/n). Demeter has gone crazy. She thinks that you kidnapped her dear son.” You furrowed your brows at his declaration and shook your head. 

“Jimin? Jimin followed me to the Underworld. He knows he can go back anytime but he doesn’t. It is not my fault.” You snapped, Jin sighed and nodded.

“I know but Demeter has gone crazy. She went and made Earth a frozen wasteland until Jimin is back in her arms” 

“Well, she should’ve been a better mother because Jimin doesn’t even want to go back to her with how much she hurt him.” You retorted. Jin looked at you with eyes you did not understand. 

“You have feelings for him,” He said with a small smile. You gaped at the declaration, sputtering out words.

“T-That’s absurd! No, I do not!” 

Jin smiled but sighed after, remembering Demeter’s words, “Still, though (Y/n). Jimin has to go back. Can you tell him that?” 

You looked at Jin with a cold look on your face then sighed, “I’ll tell him”

“Thank you, that’s all I ask, (Y/n)” Jin uttered with a gentle smile.

Jimin hummed at the huge throne room as he arranged the flower in a small vase, waiting for you to come back with a bright smile. He heard Cerberus whimper on his side, nudging him with one of his head. Jimin looked down at the canine with a smile, “What’s wrong, buddy? Hungry?” 

Cerberus perked up when he heard the word, hungry, his tail wagging behind his huge body. Jimin giggled at him and started to walk to the door, “Come on, boy. Let’s get you something to eat~” 

Cerberus followed the god, padding its way to him. Jimin went out of the throne room with the dog as they walked towards the kitchen. Jimin searched for any meat in the storage and with an exclaim of victory, he got out a huge piece of meat.

“Cerb! Here you go, boy!” He threw the meat to the dog as he happily caught it, the three heads fighting as usual to take a bite of the meat. Jimin chuckled at the canine, shaking his head. He was about to go out of the kitchen when he saw the open glass door, leading to a garden. He tilted his head at that, not remembering any garden other than the courtyard he redesigned. With a smile, he went out of the kitchen and to the open glass door. 

Cerberus stopped chewing at the meat and observed Jimin, he quickly followed the male to the garden, finishing the meat. Jimin looked around the dried-up garden with a tsk.

“I got work caught up on me.” He muttered with a smile. He was about to get some flowers when he saw a lone tree at the corner of the garden. Jimin walked closer to the huge tree and saw that it has bear some fruits, with a smile he picked on. He never really ate food in the Underworld, Jungkook always brought him his food and it made him curious. Is the food in the Underworld that bad?

He opened the fruit that he recognizes as pomegranate and smelled the sweet scent. Jimin smiled eagerly and ate some, the burst of the sweetness made him crave for more. After eating three the first time, he got out three more and popped it in his mouth, savoring the sweet taste. 

Cerberus whimpered at him making Jimin look at him as he swallowed the sweet juice. He raised a brow at the dog, “What? It’s really sweet, Cerb!” 

He was about to eat some more when Jungkook entered the garden and with a gasp, he flew towards him and smacked the fruit away from Jimin. 

Jimin whined at that, “Hey! I was eating that!” 

Jungkook gaped, “How many did you eat?!” 

The young god tilted his head, “I don’t know… Maybe six?” 

“You can’t eat food in the Underworld!” 

“Why not?!” 

“Because once you eat something that belongs to the Underworld, you cannot leave this place.” You said, looking at Jimin in disbelief. 

Jimin turned to you, surprised at your sudden appearance. Jungkook groaned at the stupidity of the young god. 

“Mistress! Did you not tell him beforehand?” 

You shook your head, stressed. You groaned at the problem at hand. Jimin looked at the fallen pomegranate but he did not feel sad. He knows he should feel sad but he did not. Jimin was willing to stay if it means he can be with you.

“I-I… I do not mind staying here…” He said with a blush making you and Jungkook look at him with disbelief

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly

Jimin was about to answer but looked at Jungkook who was glaring daggers at him and quickly shut his mouth. You sighed at the daemon and turned to Jungkook. 

“Kookie, walk Cerberus out, will you.” 

Jungkook looked at you, “B-But Mistress!” 

“Please.” 

Jungkook stopped, looking at your pleading face then looked at Jimin. It hurts Jungkook but he knows. He understands… He knows that you like the young god and not him, no matter how much he loves you, your heart already belongs to another. It did not matter that Jungkook knew you for eons and eons while Jimin knew you for a week, you will still pick the latter. 

Jungkook tried to blink his tears away and nodded stiffly, “Of course, Mistress.” He and Cerberus walked out of the garden, leaving you and Jimin alone. You looked at Jimin with a soft smile 

“What is it? What did you want to say, little god?” Jimin chuckled a bit at the nickname, feeling more nervous as you were both alone now.

“I… I do not mind staying here… because..” 

Your heart started to beat faster, heat going to your face. Your eyes begging him to continue.

“Because I love you (Y/n)… That’s why I do not mind one bit.” Jimin confessed, a serene smile on his face, hiding his nervousness at the moment. 

You started to smile at him but when you remembered Zeus’s words, your smile weakened. 

“Y-You can’t stay here, Jimin” You muttered

Jimin walked closer to you in nervousness, holding your hands in his as it trembled, showing his nervousness. 

“Do… Do you not return my feelings?” He asked with a sad smile. You looked at him and shook your head.

“Oh, gods no! I absolutely return your feelings, Jimin” He beamed at your words

“But you have to go back…” You added, watching his face fall 

“But why?” 

“Your mother turned Earth into a frozen wasteland… The mortals are starving and dying until you return to her…” You finally said

Jimin shook his head, “No, my mother is not that cruel” 

You held his cheek with a soft frown, “It is what Zeus told me and mortals are starting to multiple nowadays in the Underworld meaning that they’re rapidly dying, love…” 

Jimin looked at the ground, eyebrows furrowed in thought. He then touched your hand with his warm one. 

“I can talk to mother, I’ll tell her to stop this nonsense and I’ll return here, with you.” Jimin reasoned to you. You smiled but you know that Demeter will do anything to make something up to hinder Jimin’s return to you. 

“Of course, love.” 

Jimin shyly grinned at you, leaning closer that you can smell his breath. He smelled like the sweet pomegranate he ate earlier. 

“I like it when you call me love…” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours. Heat filled up your system, closing your eyes. Savoring his warmth.

Jimin bumped his nose against yours again and leaned closer, your lips brushing against each other like last time but the only difference today was that you finally kissed.

Jimin tasted so sweet, too sweet that it made you addicted now that you had a taste. The young god deepened the kiss, your minty and smoky scent making his head spin as your cold lips made him shiver. 

You licked his bottom lip for permission as Jimin whimpered at the soft contact, shyly opening his mouth. The burst of sweetness filing your system, feeling his wet appendage against yours in a sensual dance.

You broke the kiss, Jimin heaving at the passion and lack of breath. You smirked at him, looking at him. He was such a vision, with flustered cheeks and blown pupils as it was overcome with lust, lips were swollen and wet from your kiss. Jimin will be the death of you. 

You two stared at each other, love pouring out the two of you. Jimin leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he enjoyed your cold skin

“Mistress! Hermes is here!” You heard Jungkook called out from the garden’s entrance as the winged daemon gave you and Jimin privacy. The two of you moving away from each other a bit.

“Taehyung?” Jimin asked, looking at the door with wide eyes. You gazed at him, “You know him?” 

Jimin nodded, “He’s my best friend” 

Taehyung paced around the large dark throne room, his winged shoes fluttering at every step, showing his anxiousness. 

Jimin runs to the throne room, pushing the doors open with a pant as he ran all the way to the throne room. Taehyung looked up from the floor and to the door, locking eyes with Jimin. The blue-haired male let out a breath in relief, running towards him and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

“You have no idea how much trouble you’re in! I looked everywhere for you! I told you to not go anywhere!” Taehyung scolded Jimin, still hugging him. The blue-haired god released Jimin who smiled sheepishly. 

“I’m fine, Taehyung!” Jimin said, chuckling at his friend’s worry.

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed, “I heard that Hades kidnapped you… Are you really okay?” 

Now it was Jimin’s turn to furrow his brows in confusion, “What? Kidnapped?”

“Yeah! Everyone has been talking about it!” 

“(Y/n) did not kidnap me! I followed her! It was my own decision…” Jimin said with a frown

“You followed Hades to the Underworld–!? Wait! Why are you calling her by her real name?” 

Jimin blushed, eyes and posture turning bashful. Taehyung’s eyes widened and shook his head in disbelief. 

“No… Jiminie no…” 

Jimin glared at his words, “What do you mean no?! You do not tell me what and what I can not do!” 

“Jimin, your mother has been searching for you everywhere, worried sick, while you���re here making up some sick romance?” 

“I love her, Taehyung!” 

Taehyung shut up, looking at him with sadness, “You can’t Jimin… You do not belong here… Demeter, your mother, is waiting for you…” 

Jimin’s eyes turned cold, “I love my mother, do not get me wrong. But I ate a pomegranate…” 

The blue-haired male hid his face in his hands, stressed at the sudden information. He looked at him, “Did Hades made you eat–” 

“No! I ate it on my own!” 

Taehyung sighed and muttered a sorry, “You have to talk to your mother, Jimin…” 

“I will.” 

Jimin and Taehyung talked about when he will go back to talk to Demeter as Taehyung went back to deliver the message to Demeter until he goes back for Jimin. The blue-haired male tired of the drama of the gods. He was really not paid enough for this, he wasn’t even paid!…

The blond god was in the courtyard with Jungkook who was oddly quiet. Jimin looked at the winged daemon, “What’s wrong, Jungkookie?” 

Jungkook looked at Jimin, tears brimming in big doe eyes, “Do you really want know?” 

Jimin frowned, nodding his head in worry. Jungkook sighed and wiped his tears, “I loved (Y/n) for eons Jimin…” 

The young god’s eyes widen at Jungkook’s confession. 

“I know that she won’t ever feel the same about me but it still hurts…” 

“Jungkookie, I’m sorr–” 

Jungkook stopped the blond before he can continue, “Don’t be sorry. It is not your fault. To be honest, I’m thankful she loves you and not some pesky daemon in the Underworld…” he chuckled lightly. Jimin gazed at him, still feeling bad. 

“Do not feel bad nor sad. It is not your fault. Even though, she does not love me… I will forever stay loyal to her because before I loved her, she was and will always be my friend.” Jungkook muttered. Jimin hugged him as Jungkook cried, the winged male couldn’t suppress the emotions any longer. All of the hidden feelings he hid for eons finally breaking free. Though he is sad, he also felt free. 

Jungkook looked at Jimin and smiled through his salty tears, “Please take care of her, she can be really clumsy and can say some hurtful words but please understand her. Be patient for she does not mean it” Jimin nodded, smiling at Jungkook as he wiped his tears.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings with me, Jungkook” 

“Thank you for listening” 

You looked at the vibrant pink flowers in your hand as you bit your lips in nervousness. Jimin then entered the throne-room making you hide the bouquet behind your back. The young god looked at you then at your hand that was behind your back with a teasing smile. He jogged towards you and leaned closer to you.

“Oho~ What’s this? Did you got me something?” 

You sighed, the surprise ruined. You slowly took your hand away and brought it to Jimin with a soft smile. The blond god’s eyes widened at the bouquet, tears welling up. He hugged you, slightly crushing the flowers between you two. He nuzzled at the crook of your neck, kissing the cold skin as he tasted his salty tears along with your skin. 

“The flowers are getting crushed, love”

“I do not care, I just want to hug you for now… Please” 

You slowly wrapped your arms around him as you felt his grip tightened around you. You smiled, caressing his soft hair.

Jimin looked at you with tears on his blue eyes and smiled lovingly at you, “I see that you have read further than our lesson” 

You smiled, proudly, “I am a goddess of surprises, love” Jimin giggled at your words

You held his cheek, caressing softly at his skin. Feeling and memorizing his features as you leaned, your noses bumping lovingly. 

“I’ll miss you, little god” 

“I’ll be back, you know.” 

“I know… I just.. Will miss you still” 

Jimin smirked at you, “You have gotten soft, Goddess of Death, Queen of the Underworld.” 

You playfully glared at him, pinching his nose a bit, “Do not test me, little god” 

Jimin whined at the pinch, caressing his nose with a pout. You chuckled at him and gestured the flowers that were still in your hands.

“Do you not want it?” Jimin rolled his eyes at your words with a smile

“Of course I do, love. You’re such a tease.” 

“You hang out with Jungkook too much, little god.” 

Jimin giggled, taking the flowers from your hands as he cradled it in his hands, smiling softly at it. 

“Jiminie, are you ready to go?” Taehyung called, Jimin’s escort to Demeter as he entered with Jungkook who was fuming behind him.

“Your wings are still ugly.” The daemon snapped

“Says the one with the large black wings.”

“Excuse you! At least my wings are attached to my body!”

“How dare you!” 

Jimin ran up to them, separating the two who looked like they were about to throw hands any minute.

“Okay! That’s enough!” 

You chuckled at the scene, finding it funny that a short god can make the two taller males stand down in a wave of his finger. 

“I’m sorry, Jiminie…”

“I ain’t saying sorry, Jimin. That foul god deserves it” 

“Why you-” 

You went to the three males and commanded, “Jungkook stop it. Come here.” 

Jungkook perked up and ran to your side with a raspberry blown to Taehyung. The latter glared at the daemon, wanting to strangle him.

“You best be going, love. Your mother’s been killing a lot of mortals. This place will be crowded if it does not stop” You said

Jimin raised a brow at your words, “You sound like you just want me out of here” 

You gasped, exaggerated, and placed a hand on your chest, “I have been found out” 

“You-!” 

You chuckled and kissed his cheek, “Come back to me, alright, little god” 

Jimin smiled at you, nodding, he was about to kiss you but heard the gagging noises from Taehyung. 

“You guys are gross. It’s not like you won’t see each other you know. If you have forgotten Jiminie, you’re stuck in here for 6 months and 6 months with your mother” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes

“I know, Taehyung. Thank you for reminding me” Jimin said sarcastically

“You’re welcome!” 

Jimin looked at You and Jungkook, “I’ll see you two in 6 months” 

Jungkook scoffed, “That’s too short if you ask me”

You slapped the back of his head with a glare, “I already said to stop it, did I not Jungkook?”

Jungkook pouted, “Yes Mistress”

Taehyung stuck his tongue at Jungkook, smirking at him. Jungkook growled, glaring intensely at the god. 

“Let’s go, Jiminie~” 

Jimin made amends with Demeter when he went back, explaining everything to her. Demeter brought spring back with Jimin’s help. That is why the Earth has cold and warm seasons, it is when Jimin came and gone away from his mother. When he is with his mother, the seasons turned warm and flowers grew everywhere. When he is with his love, Demeter turned the earth cold, missing his son dearly. 

Jimin stared at the vase of flowers you got him, smiling at the bouquet of astilbe. The vibrant pink making his heart flutter as he waits until he can come back to his love. 

“I will be waiting for you.”

[geekgirles]

Family

Read on AO3

Word Count: 16090

Inspired by @evaroze 's AU in tumblr. Years of solitude had made Branch very cynical towards the idea of having a family of his own. In fact, if anyone had told him back when he was still grey that his, then, unattainable crush, Princess Poppy would not only be his Queen but also bearing his children, he would've laughed at them and warned them to not go out unless they wanted their over imaginative mind to get them eaten by the bergens. Now? Now he wouldn't change what he had for the world.

@foxlanaeshrek @eva-93 @tipolover22 I think you guys wanted to read this ;)

As unusual as it was, Poppy was actually worried.

And, yes, it was a unusual sensation, considering she’s always faced any trouble, any challenge, with nothing but hope, optimism, and confidence.

But, then again, this wasn’t just any challenge. She was about to  break some earth shaking news to the love of her life. News that greatly affected both of them. News that would soon affect the whole kingdom, too. And the troll who held her heart was well-known for his tendency of overreacting about the most insignificant thing.

And this wasn’t insignificant, this was huge.

The pink queen trusted her husband, more than anyone in the world. But she knew that her news were something closely related to the core of years of self-loathing, sadness, and survivor guilt. They were related to the utterly devastating feeling that was loss, an irrational fear that only increased tenfold when one was at the receiving end. But just as loss awakened paranoia and dread, it also awakened the primal instinct of protection and care inside of everyone.

And, as paranoid and over-cautious Branch could be, he was twice as protective and caring.

There were simply no words to describe how wonderful he truly was.

That actually helped her ease her mind. All she needed to do to find her usual confidence was think about every single piece of proof that showed that her king wouldn’t act like she’d just told him she was cheating or him, or about to die, or sacrificing herself to the bergens in order to keep the kingdom safe…

And, Hair, was she glad her thoughts had nothing to do with any of that.

So instead, she focused on all the fond memories she shared with the former grey troll. The way he threw away everything he had ever believed in just to make sure she was safe during their adventure saving the village from the bergens. How, during said journey, he’d finally let her in and confided in her his fears and memories that haunted him. The way he slowly but surely came to embrace his inner troll. Or the way he took the greatest step of his life, forgetting all about his hopelessness and trauma just to cheer her up, to bring her back from the pit of emptiness that was her own sadness. Oh, when he sang for the first time in twenty years just for her. When he sang about how much he loved her! With nothing but adoration on his face as he uttered those three, magical words!

There truly were no words that would make justice to the infinite love and gratitude she felt for having Branch in her life.

But it wasn’t just the things he did during their adventures that made her heart flutter; it was also every little detail about him and their relationship. Like every night she felt fussy about something that might go wrong with one of her latest projects for her kingdom, when he would sing the sweetest ballads to her just to help her calm down. Or how reliable he was to entrust their people’s safety in his hands, always with moderation, of course. The way their voices would match effortlessly whenever they sang together. The velvety tone of his voice whenever he whispered sweet nothings into her ear, swearing his undying devotion to her in the form of the most moving and beautiful verses she could’ve ever imagined. How their bodies became two pieces of a puzzle everytime they danced or met each other in the night, it was as if they were two star-crossed lovers, finally reuniting with their beloved after years apart, yearning for one another.

Poppy chuckled at that, it was exactly that connection what had put them in the predicament they were in.

But that wasn’t important. What mattered was that, no matter what, Branch would always be the one that held her heart, and he held it so protectively, so close to his own…

All of her previous worries had vanished and were now replaced with thrill.

Poppy made her way through her husband’s underground bunker. If anyone had told her a few years ago that she would be living in there, married to the, then, grumpy, grey survivalist who would now be happy and colourful, she would’ve asked for an intervention to help the poor unfortunate soul that had just lost their mind.

But, alas, there she was. Living in a bunker and happily married to the grump. She finally made it to the living room, now decorated with a mix of Branch’s old artefacts, and her bright and colourful items. The Snack Pack never failed to comment on the hilarity of finding jars full of glitter, muffin trays, and dozens of bright-coloured scrapbooks in the same room as jars full of sweat, weapons, and books on survival techniques.

She found him there, seated on his chair and going over some blueprints for one of the many buildings and plans he had to improve the village. He was so handsome, with his new royal robes. Ever since they got together, the twins had made sure that he had tons of clothes, even more so the moment they told the Snack Pack they were getting married. The twins’ wedding gift had been an entire wardrobe with king-fitting garments; capes, pants, leather fingerless gloves, shirts, blazers… You name it.

And he looked stunning in whatever he wore. This time, he was wearing his old leaf vest‒”It’s the most comfortable thing I own, Poppy!”, he’d told her once‒and some brown pants he’d received from the fashionistas.

Not like her own wardrobe hadn’t changed, though. Ever since she became queen, Satin and Chenille had been providing her with dozens of dresses befitting of her role. But, she was still a Pop Troll, meaning she also had the need to stay true to herself and close to her subjects, and wear simpler clothes.

Like the dress she had put on that day; a simple, sleeveless white sundress with blue, embroidered diamonds adorning its hem and matching knee-length boots. Her hair, high in a ponytail but slightly curly and adorned with her crown. The perfect blend between regal and approachable.

Seeing as Branch was far too immersed in his duties, she called him, “Branch.”

At the mention of his name, he immediately looked up, “Oh, Poppy. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. What’s up?”

“Um,” she took a deep breath, she had to tell him, “can we please talk? It’s important.”

He had already stood up and was by her side the moment she said that, making him feel uneasy. “Poppy, is there anything wrong?” He asked her as he took one of her hands and rested his other hand on her cheek, reassuringly, “C’mon, what is it? You know you can always count on me.”

Yes, she knew. Still, she was so nervous she could barely look him in the eye, unintentionally worrying her husband further. “It’s just… It’s something very important for the both of us, and for the village! A-and, it’s huge, Branch, I swear. But I don’t even know where to begin!”

“Poppy, my love, what’s going on?” The survivalist was at the verge of hyperventilating. It wasn’t like his Queen to beat around the bush like that. At all.

“Well, i-it’s just that…”, the pink troll stopped again, not sure if that was the proper way to bring up the topic, “Sorry, I mean, uh, remember how odd I’ve been feeling lately? Morning sickness, some dizzy spells, and the like?” She tilted her head to the side, hoping she’d finally picked the right way to break the news to him.

“Yeah, we thought you might’ve been coming down with something.” The uneasy feeling in his chest was only becoming stronger and more suffocating by the second. If there was something the blue king didn’t like one bit, that was Poppy not acting like herself.

“W-well, it’s actually something more serious than that-“, Poppy stopped mid-sentence at the sight of a worried sick Branch. Oh, why couldn’t she just tell him!? At this rate he was gonna have a heart attack without even knowing!

Branch began to gently stroke her cheek with his thumb, mimicking the action with his other hand and caressing his wife’s. Now he truly feared for the worst. “Poppy, please, what’s going on? Are you okay?!” His voice was desperate, his heartbeat going a mile a minute, and his eyes only showed one emotion; panic. Oh, if anything happened to Poppy he knew he’d never forgive himself. He just couldn’t.

Seeing her partner’s reaction, the young queen knew she’d only messed up again. She really needed to tell him, but words proved themselves useless. Argh, why couldn’t she be as good with them as Branch was?!

That’s when it clicked.

Maybe Poppy wasn’t a poetess, or a smooth-talker like her husband, but she was a troll of action. Why using words when you can just show what you mean? After all, an image had always been worth more than a thousand words. That was the reason she scrapbooked‒well, and also because it was incredibly fun and she was so damn good at it. But, of course, it just had to be that day, of all days, that she hadn’t made a scrapbook to show to Branch…

As her king and beloved was losing his mind, calling out her name several times to get her attention, she was looking at everywhere but him, trying to find a better way to fess up. That’s when her eyes landed on his hand, the one that was tenderly holding her cheek.

“His hand, of course!”, thought Poppy, the perfect solution materialising in her mind.

“Poppy?” Branch called out to her for the twentieth time in a row, “Please, answer me! What’s wrong?!” Surprise came over him the moment the worry on his wife’s face was replaced with a tender look and a sweeter smile, finally looking at him straight in the eye.

Even to this day, her eyes were hypnotising. Luring him into getting lost into the infinite abyss of space that was hidden behind them and never coming back.

“Nothing’s wrong, Branch.” She said as she took his hand from her face and held it in both of hers. “I just want to show you something.”

Before the practical troll could do so much as ask, the optimistic half of him moved his hand in front of her, placing it onto her belly. He allowed himself to cast a glance at the source of his happiness. The look of pure bliss she wore, accompanied by a beautiful smile made his mind go blank.

Branch had always felt pride in his vast knowledge on Poppy’s facial expressions, especially her different smiles. What had once been one of his best-kept, most embarrassing secrets, had soon proven itself to be one of the most useful tools he had when it came to his romantic interest. He could describe and categorise each and every one of her smirks, grins, and smiles in depth; and he could tell when she was faking one from a mile away. So at this point he was convinced he knew all of them by heart.

The smile she wore now, however, it was one he’d never seen before. Full of love, of hope, of promises of an even better future waiting for them. It wasn’t even a toothy grin, but it was just so wide, and so warm, and so beautiful. But it wasn’t just beautiful, it was stunning. It was breathtaking. It was heartstopping. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. When Branch looked at that smile, he was pretty sure he was looking at happiness itself.

It was that smile and the sudden, comforting warmth he felt from her belly that made him understand. He finally understood.

There were so many things he wanted to say at that moment, but his mouth was suddenly very dry and words failed him. It was finally a miracle when he managed to utter, “P-Poppy…? A-are you…?”

“Yes, Branch. I’m pregnant.” She finished for him, the smile never leaving her face. “We’re gonna be parents.” She was at the verge of tears. She was gonna be a mother! Even better, she was going to make Branch a father!

Oh, she just hoped he was as overjoyed as she was.

Her answer came in the shape of some very familiar and addicting lips crashing into hers at the same time as a pair of strong arms enveloped her. The kiss was sweet, and slow, but just as passionate and full of love as the ones they shared on nights like the one they’ve conceived their soon-to-be child.There was no doubt he was as happy as she felt.

She couldn’t help but grin widely when they had to break the kiss for air, “So, I take it you liked my news?” She teased, still in his arms.

“Poppy, my sweet and pink queen, everytime I think I can’t possibly love you any more, you always manage to prove me wrong.” He hugged her again, resting his head onto her shoulder, “I’m gonna be a dad!”

The royal couple just stood there for a few minutes, in silence, happily enjoying each other’s presence along with the new life forming within the queen of the Pop Trolls. When they pulled apart to look at one another, they both had tears of pure happiness in their eyes.

“We’re gonna be parents,” the survivalist whispered, smiling.

“Yeah,” his wife smiled back at him.

“We’re gonna be parents!”

“Yeah!”

“Oh my Gem! We’re going to be parents!” Branch suddenly panicked.

“Yeah?” Poppy repeated, raising and eyebrow at the blue troll’s reaction and feeling slightly uneasy. “I thought that was a good thing…Isn’t it?”

The worry and‒was that fear?‒in his partner’s voice stopped him in his tracks, realising how his outburst could have sounded like. “Yes! Of course!” he accidentally shouted, making Poppy flinch slightly, “Sorry. But Poppy, seriously, it is a great thing. Don’t get me wrong! I am beyond happy. I-I’m thrilled, really.”

“Then why did you just act like me being pregnant were the end of the world?” She took a few steps back, distancing herself from him and crossing her arms, an eyebrow raised. Waiting for an answer.

“It’s not that, Poppy. You being pregnant is the best thing that happened to me since you married me!”

“But…?” she urged him.

“But… I’ve just realised I have to make the bunker a safer place for the kid. I already worry myself to death whenever you get too close to one of my weapons or traps, I can’t stand the thought of our baby getting near them.” He explained, his hand resting on his chin in a contemplative manner, “I should probably check the village too…” He whispered that last part to himself.

“Okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Poppy nodded.

“And I should also establish a perimeter for crawling babies, and go on regular patrols to make sure the area is safe for whatever outdoor activities we want the baby to participate in, and soundproof the bunker so no noises wake, scare, or disturb them, and…‒”

“Oh, no. You don’t!” The optimistic troll interrupted, slightly glaring at him, “Don’t you dare go full on overprotective and paranoid mode on me and the baby, Branch!” She warned him.

“But…”

“Shhhh! Listen, Branch. I know you just want to make sure our family is safe, and believe me, that’s one of the things I love most about you. But we can’t obsess over it either! We’re bound to mess up at some point, but we’re still gonna do our best and are going to love the baby and each other more than anything in the world, alright?” The royal troll told her husband as she leaned closer to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

They stayed like that, lovingly gazing into their eyes. Poppy was already leaning in for a kiss when Branch spoke up,”But I’m still gonna soundproof the bunker!” And with that, he got up and went to the elevator to make his way to the village and buy the materials he would need.

“Branch, come back here!” Poppy shouted after him, but to no avail.

The Pop Troll sighed, it was going to be a long pregnancy. She smiled, one she was looking forward to.

………

“The Maple Tree” was one of the few official bars in Troll Village, a custom they’d picked up from the Hard Rock Trolls that still needed to be fully accepted. The differences between both tribes was laughable; while you could count the exact amount of pubs the Pop Trolls had with one hand, the Rock Trolls had one every 109 inhabitants. And Volcano Rock City was a very big city.

Of course, those differences also meant that places like “The Maple Tree” were a lot more pleasant and welcoming than the rowdy businesses Queen Barb’s kingdom possessed.

The bar was carved into a tree, that was, however, not a maple. Because of that, the furniture was all made of the tree’s wood and padded with rose coloured cushions. The benches were attached to the walls, just like the counter was. The counter, on the other hand, was filled with colourful bottles, glasses, and drinks, most of the latter being more classic Pop Troll drinks‒such as fruit and berry juices, or candy flavoured refreshments‒ than actual alcoholic drinks. And finally, the bar was famous for its stage, which welcomed bands of any tribe to play and fill the atmosphere with their music as a sign of diversity, peace, and acceptance.

At the moment, the young king of the Pop Trolls and soon-to-be father was sitting on one of the stools surrounding the counter, and downing his third shot of the evening. Just because the Pop Trolls’ taste surpassed the rest of the tribes’, it didn’t mean that the owner of the pub wasn’t curious of the other types of refreshments and dishes the other trolls would have in their homelands.

As Branch enjoyed the scenery and his drink, he kept looking at a picture in his hand. One he took everywhere with him; his wedding photo.

He remembered quite fondly that day. Even as he and Poppy had work as an unstoppable and perfectly coordinated team when they were doing the arrangements for the ceremony, the reception, and the after-party; once the day came, he had been a nervous wreck. He spent hours second-guessing everything, wondering if, perhaps, Poppy had thought better of it and would call off the wedding after regaining her senses. Or even worse, that it was a terrible mistake and he was about to ruin Poppy’s life and lead the kingdom to its doom.

But the moment he saw Poppy down at the aisle, his heart stopped, his mind went blank, and all his worries faded away. There she was, as beautiful as ever. Looking up at him from behind the veil with so much eagerness and adoration he almost thought he was looking at a reflection of his own soul.

She was perfect.

She was real.

She loved him.

He loved her.

They loved each other.

And they were getting married, that wasn’t a mistake. That was one of the best decisions he had ever made in his life, and she agreed to it. They were in this together, the two of them against the whole world. As always.

After they’d said their respective vows and the blessed “I do’s”, everything was a blur. He remembered Poppy kissing him senseless, with so much vigor and passion he thought his knees would fail him for a moment. He remembered dancing exclusively with each other for hours on end, both slow dances and upbeat songs. He remembered singing to her a song he’d written for the occasion; “Mirrors”, he’d called it. Because it represented how the two of them were the reflection of the other, their other half. They completed each other.

 I don’t wanna lose you know

I’m lookin’ right at the other half of me

The vacancy that sat in my heart

Is a space that now you hold

Show me how to fight for now

And I’ll tell you, baby, it was easy

Comin’ back here to you once I figured it out

You were right here all along

It’s like you’re my mirror

My mirror staring back at me

I couldn’t get any bigger

With anyone else beside of me

And now it’s clear as this promise

That we’re making

Two reflections into one

‘Cause it’s like you’re my mirror

My mirror staring back at me

Staring back at me

 And, of course, he remembered taking that picture. But looking at it now, knowing his family was about to grow more that he could’ve ever imagined, filled him with so much joy he could cry any moment now.

That photo truly was one of his favourites. The twins had done an astounding job with Poppy and him. He wore a simple, yet, elegant black tuxedo with a buttoned-up white shirt and a royal blue tie. And Poppy…

Hair, Poppy was a vision of loveliness.

Her hair was tied in a long braid that reached down her waist and was adorned with pearls and flowers; white daisies, pink, blue, and purple roses (symbolising their love)… Her dress was a beautiful white ball gown with a queen Anne cleavage, its collar made of tulle. Her loose strands were in place thanks to the pearl tiara that was also part of the veil. And the look of pure happiness she wore during the entire day was the best accessory imaginable.

In other words, she was a divine creature that had descended from Paradise to captivate them all with her presence.

And she was his wife and bearing his, their, child.

As Branch lost himself in his own little world, he failed to notice that someone was looking over his shoulder, stealing a peek of the picture he had in hand, “The Queen and ya were looking hairy fancy that day, Yer Highness.” Said a gruff voice with a Southern accent.

Branch jumped from his stool the moment the voice spoke. Luckily, it belonged to someone he knew all too well. Leaning on one arm on top of the counter, stood a troll with bronze skin, a fiery orange mane, and a yellow nose. His knowing eyes were the same warm colour as his hair. The troll wore a flannel shirt and blue jeans, and he was the owner of the bar‒ Maple, hence the name of “The Maple Tree.”

“Sorry, if I scared ya, Yer Majesty. I just couldn’t help myself! You looked so happy, both in and out of the picture!” The bartender laughed as he served him another shot, the sound of his, rather loud, laughter echoing around the place.

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Maple.” Branch deadpanned. “For your information, I am very happy. Thank you very much. And, please,” he scoffed, “it’s not like you didn’t have the same stupid grin on your face the day you married Cindy Lou. I should know, Poppy and I gave you our blessing, along with Delta.”

Ever since the different tribes of trolls had learned to coexist, it wasn’t so uncommon for them to befriend, date, or even marry followers of another type of music. In Maple’s case, he’d found himself his soul mate and partner for life in Cindy Lou; a country troll with cornflower blue skin, wheat-coloured braids, and four beautiful, brown and white spotted horse legs. Not to mention, his own sister was in a long-term relationship with a rock troll.

“That ya did, King Branch. That ya did.” Maple chuckled. “So, what’s got ya so chirpy?”

The former gray troll froze. On the one hand, he and Poppy had agreed on telling the kingdom together in a party Poppy had spent three days planning that was supposed to take place in two days time. But on the other hand, he’d already had four shots of a not-so-light drink, and he was known for not being very good at keeping secrets when drunk. Because of a few beers, he’d gone and confessed to Poppy that he kept all the invitations she’d ever made him, and where he kept them.

Summing up, he was frosted.

“Uh… Y’know, the usual. J-just came up with a-a new… defense system… for the village.” Branch tried to lie.

“Really now?” Maple raised an eyebrow at him, “Is that why ya decided to take today, of all days, yer wedding picture‒the one ya never leave outta yer sight, might I add‒ out of yer hair in the middle of my bar? Because ya came up with a new defense system? Really selling it, pal.” The bartender smirked at him with his arms crossed.

The survivalist really hated it when other Pop Trolls used sarcasm on him. Like, how did they even learn how to use it?!

Seeing no way out, given Maple had served him enough drinks to be able to blackmail him with way too many embarrassing stories of him, Branch sighed. There was only one thing he could do. “If I tell you, you have to hair swear you won’t tell anyone.” The look in his eyes was dead serious.

“Hair swear?” Maple’s eyes widened.

The King of the Pop Trolls nodded.

“Very well.”

After they’d completed the oath, Branch took a deep breath and fessed up, “This is something Poppy and I wanted to share to the whole village later but…” he smiled, “we’re having a baby. Troll Village will soon have a new little prince or princess.”

The orange haired troll gasped, delighted, “Yer Highness, that’s great! I can’t wait to meet the little trolling. I’m sure the whole village will be happier than a country troll dancing to the sound of “He Stopped Loving Her Today”, ironically”, Maple gushed, “Oh, I can’t wait to tell my Apple Pie!”

“Don’t you dare!” Branch hissed, making the other customers turn around to look at him, “You can’t tell a soul, Maple. Not even Cindy Lou, you’ve hair sworn.” He whispered-shouted.

“Alright, alright. Yer the boss.” The owner of the bar raised his hands up in defeat. “But really, congratulations. I’m sure Queen Poppy and ya will be some groovy parents.”

“I hope so too.”

The next morning, a loud banging noise coming from outside the bunker woke both Poppy and Branch up, they soon recognised the noise as someone knocking on their door. Startled, they exchanged glances and made it to the elevator. The moment they stepped out of their home, they were greeted with half of Troll Village, grinning from ear to ear.

“Congratulations!” Every troll present shouted at the top of their lungs.

King Peppy took a step forward, “Aww, Poppy! I can’t believe my little princess is finally going to start her own family,” the old king sniffled, “I’m so proud!”

“Dad, I’m 25. And I have been queen for three years now, and a married woman for two.” She deadpanned, “But how did you guys find out? You weren’t supposed to know until tomorrow at the party.”

“Oh, Maple told us.” A voice from the back yelled.

“Only because His Majesty spilled the beans first!” The bronze skinned troll defended himself.

“Maple!” Branch hissed, “I told you to keep it a secret. You hair swore! Do the sparkles, glitter and dew drops mean nothing to you!?”

“Hey, it’s not like I pinkie promised…” The orange haired troll shrugged.

His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched, the blue troll was about to give the other troll a good talking-to when his wife’s voice stopped him dead on his tracks, “Branch? You told them about the baby?”

Yup, he was most definitely frosted.

“I’m so sorry, Poppy. But I’d drunk a little bit more than I should have, and you know how I can get that happens, and then Maple appeared, and you know how he can get when he wants in in the gossip, and‒”

“Hon, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

Poppy nodded.

“But I ruined the surprise, t-the whole point of tomorrow’s party…”

“It’s not like we can’t celebrate tomorrow anyways,” she shrugged, “Besides, I can’t really blame you, guess it was too big a secret to keep to ourselves.”

“Oh, Poppy. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you‒, wait a moment”, he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, crossing his arms and impatiently tapping his foot at the same time, “You’re the goddess of surprises, you hate it when someone blows them…”

“W-what do you mean?” she started fidgeting with her hands, shrinking from his gaze.

“Poppy, have you told anyone about it?”

Before his Queen could answer, the other half of the village led by the Snack Pack appeared in front of the bunker, holding a huge banner that read “Congratulations on the baby!”

Her husband raised an eyebrow at her, “It slipped as part of the lyrics of the morning song.” She laughed awkwardly. “But, hey, one less thing to worry about, right?”

Branch chuckled, shaking his head with a grin. Sometimes, Poppy made it impossible to be mad at her and her quirks.

………

Trolls pregnancies were very different from those of other species. While most mammals would develop in their mothers wombs for months until they were finally ready to be born, or oviparous in eggs; trolls were born very differently.

It even changed depending on the type of troll, actually.

The most famous case were glitter trolls. They didn’t need a partner to be parents, so genitals weren’t as big a deal for them as other trolls. Hair, they didn’t even show them! Reason why they were always naked and Guy Diamond had given birth to Tiny Diamond all on his own.

Rainbow trolls, however, did need a mate. But the way Rainbow trollings came to be was just as surprising. The mother-to-be would spend the first trimester pregnant, carrying the forming egg in her womb. Then, once the first three months of the pregnancy were over, she would go into labour and lay an egg. That egg would then spend the remaining six months of its development surrounded by materials meant to keep it warm and healthy, namely its parents hair. And finally, at the ninth month, a trolling would be born from the egg.

Even if Rainbow trolls didn’t spend as much time with their forming babies as other species did, it still was of great importance that the mother was kept safe and comfortable, far away from unnecessary stress. For their emotions were still closely connected to the baby’s well-being even when they had already laid the egg.

Unfortunately for Poppy, who was roughly into her second month, that meant that Branch was on overcautious, overprotective husband/father mode 24/7.

The pink troll was currently resting on her chair in the bunker, working on what she already considered one of her finest works. Just like she’d made scrapbooks of her and Branch’s relationship (she had entire albums dedicated solely to certain dates and their wedding), she’d decided to do a scrapbook of her future baby.

So far, it didn’t have much. She wouldn’t be able to add the best stuff until the baby was actually there. But she still worked with what she was given; like sweet moments she’d experienced while pregnant. Mainly little details Branch had done for her.

It was funny, being an expecting mother. She knew nothing about her baby, and she already loved them more than her own life.

As she was adding the last remaining touches to the page she’d been working on, her husband made it back to the bunker after a long day ruling over the village.

“Poppy, love! I’m home!”

“Oh! Hey, honey!” she greeted him, slowly getting up from the chair, “How was your day?”

The moment he saw her standing up, he was there by her side. Putting one hand on her back and the other taking hers, to support her, “The festival’s coming along. But some trolls are way more helpful than others…” He sighed, “I’ve had to look for Keith three times in an hour because he was never where he was supposed to be!”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, and then, I was reminded for the umpteenth time that the village tends to get the safety codes mixed up…” He rested his index finger and his thumb on the bridge of his nose, exasperated, “Seriously, I don’t understand how I keep forgetting that I have to give them a crash course about that. I mean, it’s been an issue since before we started dating!”

“Well… Maybe you could try with a different approach?” Poppy offered.

“Like what?”

“You see, most of us haven’t spent a little over a decade in an underground bunker, devouring practical books as the best way to pass time,” she smirked at the fake offended look he sent her, “so we’re not very good with numbers.”

“Oh, than what do you suggest I do, oh, all-knowing Queen Poppy?” He sent her a look, barely managing to suppress his laughter.

“How about, instead of numbers, you used colours?” She got closer to him, tempting him as they bantered.

“Colours, you say?” he got closer as well, sending her a sly smile, “What do you have in mind?”

Poppy began to tenderly kiss his neck, his cheek, his ears (a soft spot of his), “Just come up with something like, “Code Magenta: fire hazard” or “Code Periwinkle: cupcake shortage”. Y’know, something like that…”, she practically purred into his ear.

Branch could feel himself becoming putty in her hands. If there was one thing he was sure of, that was that his wife, especially his flirty wife, was his greatest weakness. And he had the pregnancy and her hormones to thank for.

An expecting mother’s symptoms were incredibly varied and unpredictable: mood swings, cravings, soreness in different parts of the body, strange abilities one could only dream of… For Poppy, the most present ones so far were mood swings and cravings. The mood swings constantly had Branch on the lookout; one minute, Poppy could be her usual self; perky and positive, and the other; she could be either a pink ball of barely-contained fury or a disconsolate crying mess.

He honestly didn’t know which one he dreaded the most.

On the bright side, her mood swings could also bring pleasant surprises. Like moments when she would be extremely affectionate (and Branch never rejected a chance at having his adorable wife’s undivided attention and endless kisses), or she could be extremely… erhm… eager. Which he would be able to smell thanks to his enhanced senses and feel his heart melt and his knees buckle from a mile away. Just like at that very moment.

The cravings, on the other hand, were manageable or a handful depending on the moment. Granted, it wasn’t the same thing going emergency grocery shopping at 3PM as going at 3AM. But his sweetheart needed him and he’d be frosted if he ever said he wouldn’t get her what she wanted. He just couldn’t say no to her.

The thing about them, though, was that they were always something sweet. Always. Hormones had given Poppy an even bigger sweet tooth than before. Everything had to have at least three spoonfuls of sugar now that she was expecting.

He’d been worried sick about a possible diabetes until Dr Plum Plimsy had assured him that it was normal, and that her body would be able to deal with all that sugar on its own.

Speaking of sweets… As much as he wanted to lose himself in his beloved’s affections, he had something for her, and if he didn’t give it to her before dancing a good ol’ tango, the angry mood swing was sure to come.

“Hey, Pops”.

“Hm?”

“I’ve got something for you.” He said as he slowly untangled himself from her loving embrace. Grabbing a paper bag from his hair, he handed it to her, “Your favourite.”

The moment he said those words, the queen of the Pop Trolls squealed like a teenage girl, “Oh, babe! You remembered!” She all but gushed as she took one of Biggie’s extraspecial, hyper-exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime cupcakes. Strawberry, no less. Her favourite indeed.

“I love you so, so much!” She squealed right before her lips came crashing onto his. Their favourite way of thanking each other.

“I love you too.” Branch smiled at her. “Now, sit down and eat your cupcake. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Hey, that’s my line!” Poppy reprimanded him.

“I… I beg your pardon?” Now Branch was beyond confused. What had he done? Had he triggered furious Poppy by accident?

“I said, ‘that’s my line’”, the pink troll repeated, now fully facing her husband with a pointed look, “Branch, ever since we told the village I’m pregnant, you’ve been doing everything on your own! You don’t let me take part in the negotiations with the other tribe leaders, you don’t let me organise nowhere near as many events and parties as before; the sole idea of me going on a walk alone sounds completely insane to you!” She’d unknowingly been raising her voice as she spoke, clearly frustrated.

The former gray troll started fidgeting with his hands, doing everything in his power to avoid her questioning gaze, “I… I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe and stress free…”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Her shout made him look her in the eye. The frown on her face was bad news, “It took us a whole lot of work to help you evolve from paranoid hermit to slightly-disgruntled-but-all-in-all-caring husband and king! No way I’m letting you go back to neurotic lover!”

“…N-n-neurotic lover?” Branch managed to utter, still taken aback by Poppy’s sudden outburst.

“It’s the best middle ground I could come up with.”

“Oh”.

“My point is”, Poppy continued, “as much as I appreciate what you’re doing for me, ‒because, believe me, I appreciate everything that you do a whole lot‒, you have to give me my own space. You know, you outta let me do things on my own.

“I might be pregnant, but I can take care of myself. Besides, “she snorted, “this is Troll Village. What’s gonna happen to me here that’s actually dangerous?” She laughed.

The young king couldn’t help but laugh himself, “I guess you’re right. Sorry, Pops.”

“It’s fine, my king. Just… Control yourself a little bit more in the future. ‘Kay?”

“Hey, I’m not that overprotective!”

“Literally, the only thing you haven’t done is lifting me up whenever you see a puddle of mud‒!”

“See? Not that overprotective.”

“You didn’t let me finish. As I was saying, because you throw yourself to the mud and form a staircase with your hair whenever you see one!”

“Can’t let Cloud Guy get ahead of me again…” He muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing!” He sighed, “Look, Poppy. I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m so excited about us being parents that the mere thought of anything happening to any of you is enough to keep me up all night. But I get it, I should give you some space. I’m sorry, really.”

“Oh, Branch…” His wife cooed at him, “I love you.” She closed the gap between them and kissed him.

“I love you too.” He said in between kisses. When they finally pulled away, he asked, “Any idea on the gender of the baby? According to… Basically every experienced female troll I’ve talked to and any book I’ve read on the matter, you mothers have a pretty good instinct when it comes to these things.”

The optimistic troll looked down at her breasts, which were growing quickly to be able to feed the baby when they were born, “I don’t know the gender, but I’m pretty sure the baby’ll be a hungry one. These two are huge!”

“The baby isn’t the only one who’s hungry.” Branch teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Poppy couldn’t help but blush deep red. To this day, she could barely keep herself from blushing, and sighing, and just acting like a teenage girl in love whenever her husband was romantic or recited poetry to her. So, whenever he opted for a more… intimate route, she was a goner.

So there she was, blushing like an idiot as Branch took one of her hands and started to leave the lightest of kisses on her knuckles, “I’ve heard that some marriages lose their spark as soon as children are involved, things such as husbands losing interest in their wives because of their bodies changing and becoming distant as a result…” he chuckled, amused beyond belief, “However, as soon as I gaze at you, angel of mine, I can only wonder how a heartstopping vision such as this”, Poppy could feel him practically devouring her with his eyes, “can drive a sane man away.” He finished by kissing the back of her hand intently.

“G-guess t-they’re not so s-sane after all, a-are they?” The queen stuttered, overwhelmed by her husband’s affections.

Turning the tables and turning Poppy into a huge mess for once always brought a sly smile to Branch’s face, “Not so sane in the least.”

Without much of a warning, the teal troll rested his free hand on his wife’s back and the one that had previously held hers right behind her legs, lifting her up‒as gently as posible, of course‒, and carrying her bridal style to their couch. Once seated, Branch allowed Poppy to nestle herself in between his legs, her back pressed to his chest as his hands rested on top of her growing belly.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the love they had for each other covering them up from any possible cold, with their heartbeat as the best background music; all of it combined created the perfect atmosphere for an expecting young couple of lovers.

But silence never sat well with Poppy.

“Branch?” she called.

Her husband hummed in acknowledgement.

“Could you please sing to me? There’s nothing I crave more than your voice, especially when you’re away all day…” she whimpered, turning slightly to meet his gaze.

Branch chuckled, for it was true. The one thing Poppy would never fail to ask for, besides sweets, was for him to serenade them. She claimed it calmed her and the baby. Made them feel safe.

Leaving aside what he usually thought of her antics, her wish was his command. So he began to sing, from the heart, as an attempt to express how much she meant to him. For only that could ever get close to making the true depth of his feelings for his beloved, and pink, and perfect wife any justice.

Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine,

I’m leaving my life in your hands

People say I’m crazy and that I am blind

Risking it all in a glance

And how you got me blind is still a mystery

I can’t get you out of my head

Don’t care what is written in your history

As long as you’re here with me

I don’t care who you are

Where you’re from

What you did

As long as you love me

Who you are

Where you’re from

Don’t care what you did

As long as you love me…

With every verse, Poppy just made herself more and more comfortable in Branch’s arms. If there was one thing she could call Paradise, that were moments like this. She could only think of one way to make it better; to have a little trolling in her arms.

“Funny that you would choose a Backstreet Boys’ song, “she teased him with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “considering you have practically the same voice as Justin Timberlake from Nsync…”

“Remember me why are we together again?” He deadpanned at such a poorly joke. She knew he hated being compared to Justin Timberlake. That was a low blow, even for their usual banter!

“Heh,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “you liked it and you put a ring on it, so...” The pink troll emphasised her point by pointing at the finger that, sure enough, wielded her wedding band.

“Are you quoting songs again?”

“You don’t like it when I make my points through song and you don’t like it when I quote songs. There’s no winning with you.” She sighed in an over-the-top manner.

“And then I’m the dramatic one…” Branch rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you bet you are!” Poppy turned then to face him, resting her waist on her bent knees and unconsciously giving Branch anxiety, “Every time‒and I do mean every. Single. Time‒, something wakes you up abruptly you yell “Hide the coconuts!” And I ask you, my love, why? Just why? Who hurt you with a coconut, Branch?”

They stayed in silence until a roar of laughter escaped the both of them. It only got louder the moment Branch grabbed Poppy by the waist and dipped her, kissing her deeply. Once they separated to breathe, they went back to their original posture, affectionately nuzzling each other’s cheeks.

………

As unexpected as it could sound to foreigners, the nights in Troll Village could get very cold. The low temperature and occasional howling winds always invited the citizens to stay in, protected by the warm, fuzzy hair the pods were made of. Branch’s bunker, on the other hand, as advanced and well-developed as it was, still lacked such protection; so the nights could, indeed, get very cold.

The survivalist thought he had that problem solved the day Poppy moved in to live with him and start a new life together. Each other’s warmth proving to be all they needed to comfortably survive the night.

Therefore, the moment he noticed the heat that radiated from a figure that should be lying beside him missing, he panicked. Before he opened his eyes, he tried reaching to Poppy with his hand, but her side of the bed was empty. Sure enough, when he finally looked at it, searching for his wife, he realised she was nowhere to be found.

She wasn’t in the bunker.

She was a pregnant female.

There were predators in the forest!

A lump in his throat, he rushed out of the covers of their bed, put on his robe, and began to frantically search for his pink muse.

He searched everywhere in his bunker, just to be sure. She wasn’t in her favourite spots, she wasn’t in his favourite spots, she wasn’t in the kitchen, getting a late night snack; she wasn’t in the chocolate stash, she wasn’t in the reformed armory (although, admittedly, he wasn’t sure why he thought she could be there in the first place). Just where was she?!

With a feeling of dread tugging at his heart strings, he got out of his bunker to search for her in the woods. With a lantern in hand, he kept calling her name, hoping she would answer him. Finally, right before he decided to turn around and alert the village of their missing pregnant queen to initiate a search party, he found her. But the state he found her in was most unnerving.

The upside of it was that Poppy seemed to be completely unscathed, she had no visible injuries nor she appeared to be in pain. In fact, she was merely sitting on a rock in the middle of a clearing and gazing at the night sky. The downside of it was the distant look she wore when she looked at the stars shining high above her. Her pensive frown and melancholy eyes reflected a whole new level of depth inside of Poppy. The manner in which she stared at the stars held such reverence and humility it almost appeared as if Poppy was begging the stars to allow her to become one of them; to give her the chance of being as beautiful and carefree as them.

Branch soon decided that such a look didn’t belong on Poppy’s face. It should be the stars looking at her that way, not the other way around.

As carefully as he could, in an attempt to not startle her, he called her, “Poppy?”

Poppy just kept staring at the night lights like she hadn’t even heard him, which didn’t help him calm down his growing anxiety.

“Poppy, please, what’s wrong?” he tried again, this time getting closer to her. Lantern in hand, he carefully positioned himself right beside her, as they agreed they should always be; right next to each other, but instead of sitting on top of the rock with her, he opted to sit on the grass, to give her some space in case something was wrong. Which, judging by her unresponsive state, was very much the case. “Precious, it’s me, Branch. Please, my love, what are you doing here so late in the night? It’s very dangerous, you know it is.”

No matter what he did, the worried husband just couldn’t get his wife as so much as acknowledge his presence. Branch could feel the desperation getting to the best of him, it was maddening. In a last, desperate attempt, he leaned a little closer, tried to look her in the eyes, and attempted to reason with her, “Poppy, if something happens to you what’s gonna be of the baby? What’s gonna be of me?”

That seemed to stir something inside her. An answer at last! Only it wasn’t the kind of answer the blue troll had been expecting. In fact, it was actually way worse than momentarily losing sight of Poppy; she was crying. As soon as he’d finished his last sentence, the pink queen started hiccuping and sniffing softly, as the same time as tears made their way to her magenta eyes, reddening them quickly.

Before Branch could do so much as embrace her in hopes of consoling his wife, she spoke up, her voice wobbly and frail, “Branch, what if I don’t make it?”

Her question took him aback, “What do you mean?”

She shallowed thickly, “What if I die giving birth, Branch?”

She, then, turned to face him. She was so vulnerable at that moment and she felt so utterly lost. The idea of dying terrified her! Not only because she knew she still had too much to live for, but because she couldn’t bear the thought of living her loved ones behind so soon! If she died prematurely, who was going to make peace between Satin and Chenille when their sibling bickering went too far? Who was going to scrapbook with Biggie everything that Mr. Dinkles had done during the day? Who was going to babysit Tiny Diamond when Guy was busy? And most importantly, who was going to be there for Branch and their child, her dear lovable grump and soon-to-be ray of sunshine, when ruling the kingdom became too much?!

At those thoughts, her quiet cries turned into loud, heartbreaking sobs that she tried to hide by shielding her face with her hands. The sight was devastating indeed, and Branch could only stare at his crying wife while he felt his own heart breaking in two.

That definitely wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“Poppy. Poppy. Poppy, please, look at me!” he pleaded as he gingerly guided his morning angel’s face with one of his hands, very much like he did when she lost her colours all those years ago. He just hoped this wasn’t going to be a repeat of that time, “Where’s all this coming from? Just this afternoon, you were completely over the moon with the idea of giving birth.”

Her magenta orbs were suddenly focused on the floor, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, “I… I had a nightmare, Branch.” Again, she swallowed thickly, in a futile attempt to get rid of the uncomfortable lump in her throat, “And… It brought unpleasant feelings back.”

“You? Unpleasant feelings? Okay, Pops, now you’re freaking me out. Seriously, what’s this all about?”

She finally held his gaze, and hair, were her eyes filled with sadness and fear. It killed him to see her like that. “It reminded me that my mother died when giving birth to me.”

Oh. Branch’s eyes widened. Oh.

Now that was unexpected. Neither Poppy or King Peppy ever spoke of Poppy’s mother, late Queen Holly, in such a way. Normally, their voices would be filled with care and longing, clearly reflecting the loss they carried. But never did they sound as serious as Poppy did then. Usually, if the late Queen was ever brought up, the royal family would convey their feelings in a way that was best described as bittersweet; it was clear they missed her, but at the same time they knew  Queen Holly would want them to be happy, even if she was no longer with them. This time, however, the grief in Poppy’s voice was palpable, like no other time. It actually reminded Branch of when he reminisced his grandmother.

But it was true, Queen Holly had passed the day she laid Poppy’s egg. Branch remembered her vaguely, but such a presence could never be forgotten altogether. Queen Holly was a Rainbow troll with party pink skin, covered in glitter freckles and moles all over it‒of which Poppy had only inherited some moles and the glitter freckles on her cheeks‒; denim blue, silky hair; and a violet pair of eyes and nose. For the very brief encounters Branch had had with her before her passing, she could be best described as a toned-down Poppy. She was as calm, collected, and regal as she was optimistic, kind, and caring. No wonder King Peppy loved her madly, or that the kingdom had mourned her loss like they would grieve the most fateful Trollstice.

He also remembered King Peppy constantly mentioning how, in contrast to the eccentricities he’d passed down on her, his little girl had received her mother’s smile. And for that, Branch was eternally grateful.

All in all, Branch should have known that the loss of her mother would have affected Poppy greatly, still… It was easy to forget such a detail with Poppy’s upbeat and positive attitude indicating anything but loss.

But now, the familiar feeling of mourning and misery he had lived with for so many years presented itself in Poppy’s features, making it clear that not even her, the happiest troll to ever live, wasn’t immune to their effect. And that certainly didn’t suit Poppy, at all.

The questioning look on his wife’s face, though, brought him back to the real world. She had asked him a question, a query whose answer probably meant so much to her that it was practically like her sanity and ease of mind depended on it. Which they probably did.

What if I die giving birth, Branch?, her words resonated inside his skull, raising questions he hoped with all his being he didn’t have to answer. But it was apparent he had no other choice.

“Just what would I do if Poppy passes?”, he wondered. His most sentimental side knew that a part of him would die with Poppy if she didn’t survive, for she was his hope, his love, his saving light guiding him through the darkness he’d been facing all alone for years. Poppy was his happiness, and there is nothing harder to cope with than the loss of a source of happiness; especially if it came from a loved one.

But, his rational side knew that he would never be truly alone if Poppy left them. He’d been close friends with the Snack Pack ever since they befriended the bergens, after regaining his colours he even made friends of his own, and, most importantly, Poppy would leave him the most precious gift to remember her by: their child.

There were just so many factors to take into account, all of them as devastating as they were hopeful. As fulfilling as they felt selfish. As comforting as they were painful. But, above all, none of them succeeded at conveying what they were supposed to; none of them would truly ease Poppy’s fears.

Taking a deep breath, the former grey troll braced himself for one of his biggest challenges to date. He moved a little closer to the pink troll, took one of her hands from her lap and, squeezing it a little in a comforting manner, he spoke, “Poppy, in all honesty, I have no idea what I’d do if I lost you. Probably go mad,” he eyed her curiously for a minute, but when he saw his poor attempt at a joke had been fruitless, he quickly resumed to comforting her, “You do mean the world to me Poppy, and now that I know what it feels like to have the world, I could never go back to accepting anything else.

“However, I know I wouldn’t be alone. And, while it’s true a whole kingdom is quite the heavy burden on a lone troll’s shoulders‒you know that better than anyone‒, you’ve also taught me that I’m never truly alone. Thanks to you, my delicate flower, I have friends I can count on no matter what. Thanks to you, I have enough experience to handle any issue that might arise in our community. And, most importantly, thanks to you, my love, I have the family I’d been yearning for since I was a kid who’d just lost his grandma. And I’m forever grateful for all that, Poppy.”

“It’s good to see you’ll be okay if I’m gone…” She tried to smile, but it came out forced, giving the queen’s true feelings away. Luckily, his husband knew just how to fix that.

“Ah, ah, ah!” He wagged a finger from his free hand at her, halfheartedly admonishing her, “You didn’t let me finish.”

“By all means, go ahead.” She chuckled weakly.

“Above all, if there’s something I’ve learned after years of knowing you, Poppy, that is that you will always, always, get back up again. Always. So I highly doubt laying an egg would ever be enough to take you down,” he smirked at her, “I mean,  you ventured into the forest on your own to save your friends from our natural predators, did everything in your power to make peace with said predators and succeeded, and the most challenging thing of them all“, his gaze softened as he uttered those last words, “you never gave up when it came to winning over the village’s reclusive grump. And you didn’t just win him over! You won his heart, and now he doesn’t want it back.” He finished at the same time as he kissed the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hearing such beautiful words, Poppy couldn’t hold her tears back anymore, but before Branch could panic again, she closed the gap between them with a deep kiss, embracing him as she went on with the lip-locking, her hands playing with the nape of his head as his roamed her back; their hair intertwining as only troll lovers’ would.

Once again Poppy’s conviction was reaffirmed; no matter the challenge, she would always be able to face it with Branch by her side.

………

If anyone had told the Snack Pack a few years ago that their dear Poppy would be happily married to the village grump and bearing his child, they would’ve looked at each other and agree that person was wackier than Cooper.

However, now they loved Branch just as much as if he’d been a member of their group his whole life, and where immensely happy for him and their queen. Although it is true they all had different opinions on their relationship at first.

At the beginning, they would all agree that Poppy tried too hard to involve Branch and to befriend him, especially considering the latter’s knack for ignoring, refusing, and even destroying her scrapbooked invitations and attempts. The heathen!

“Poppy, he’s way more trouble than what he’s worth!”, they would tell the, then, princess over and over.

Admittedly, though, even if they weren’t as observant as Poppy was when it came to the reclusive troll’s secret desire for company, they certainly were more observant than she was of his numerous hints of his secret feelings for her. They never mentioned it because they weren’t really sure how to bring such a topic up to Poppy, and because they low-key thought it was a lost cause, too. After all, there was no way two trolls so different from one another could make a relationship work!

Nowadays, however, they were glad they’d been so sorely mistaken. Poppy and Branch were an unstoppable team, and an even cuter couple! They were literally the whole village’s OTP.

When it came to Branch’s feelings, of the whole Snack Pack, Smidge was the first one to pick up on them; but she was also the hardest to convince to give the boy a chance. Having spent so much time near Poppy, with that of being her right hand in practically everything since they met, the Teaspoon troll didn’t take it lightly whenever Branch made Poppy doubt her own leadership and skills with his harsh words. And she couldn’t just forgive someone who tore a perfectly good invitation just for the sake of it! Just what in hairnation was Branch, an animal?!

Luckily, she soon started to warm up to him the moment he proved he’d do anything for Poppy, and she would always respect a fellow Poppy defender.

The first one of the group of friends who actually shipped them was Biggie. He even played dress up with Mr. Dinkles pretending to be them, and if, by any chance, you were to witness such thing, it was easy to notice the romantic atmosphere their games would head to. But it was to be expected; Biggie was a huge romantic and an even bigger supporter of the “opposites attract” trope.

Guy Diamond, on the other hand, didn’t really think much of it. If they ended up together, they would work things out themselves; if they didn’t, it just wasn’t meant to be. Although he was positively appalled to find out Biggie had been roleplaying as them and hadn’t invited an actor of Guy’s caliber to participate.

Satin and Chenille were conflicted. It was undeniable that Branch’s fashion sense was an insult to everything they believed in, but his ability to sew his own garments was impressive. Besides, they could totally see why Poppy could be interested in someone like him; he had quite the nice build, a sturdy body with defined muscles from years of hard work, and a pretty handsome face. In other words, he was fine model material with zero clothing expertise.

Cooper was simple enough in his approach. Before Poppy and Branch saved them from the bergens he was slightly afraid of Branch and felt really bummed out by his buzzkill attitude, but then,  as soon as they decided to take a step forward and become a couple, his whole reasoning could be summarised by saying “If Poppy’s happy, so am I.” Which, honestly, was the wisest thing to do, otherwise, he’d tell you absolutely everything there is to know about him. And some things you just don’t want to know.

No matter their original views on the matter, now they could all agree those two were the perfect couple. Because you only needed to watch them for a little while to appreciate the way they would dance with each other, so intimate it felt like intruding in their private time. It took so little to be moved by the sweet, sweet ballads they would sing to each other and nobody else, capable of bringing anyone to tears. Because anybody could melt at the sight of the smiles they reserved for the other; in Poppy’s case, even if she smiled for practically anything, no smile, grin, or smirk could even begin to cover the beauty of the ones she sent Branch. And, in Branch’s case, though he did get better with time, any other smile would look like he was about to barf compared to the grin he shared exclusively with Poppy.

Yes, those two were their best friends. And they were the most beautiful married couple they’d ever see, of that they were sure.

………

Saying the day the egg was laid had been an emotional rollercoaster would be a vast understatement.

It had been a winter afternoon. Poppy and Branch were out supervising the construction of some new homes for the trolls from the other tribes that decided to live there, either because they liked the idea of a change of scenery, or because they’d met and fallen in love with a Pop troll and had decided to live in their partner’s homeland.

As Branch kept talking to the troll in charge about the best course of action to take when building or checking the blueprints to see if they needed some last minute modifications, Poppy was just looking down at the trollings playing around the area.

Soon, she’d be down there with her own little bundle of happiness and love, her dear, attentive husband close by. Oh, she couldn’t wait to walk hand in hand with Branch as they cooed at their little one, to watch Branch’s proud face and his dopey smile when he played with them, to sing and hug the precious little gift they were about to receive. To watch them grow up! A wide grin made its way to her face, oh, she just couldn’t wait!

And apparently, she wouldn’t have to.

As Poppy kept gazing at the village below her, she suddenly felt herself moist. Like she had peed herself. But that didn’t make sense! Ever since she found out she was pregnant she kept needing to use the bathroom regularly, she would’ve known if she needed to go!

That’s when the pain, along with the realisation, came.

This was it. Her water broke. She was going to lay the egg! She had to tell Branch!

“B-Branch? H-honey?”

“Yes, darling?” he replied absentmindedly, focused on the blueprints before him.

“My water broke.”

The moment those words left Poppy’s mouth and registered in his brain, his heart did a somersault and his eyes widened. Oh, cupcakes. The baby was coming! He immediately shoved the blueprints to the troll he had been talking to and ran next to Poppy. Taking her hand and positioning his other one on her lower back, he started to guide her towards their home.

“Someone call for Dr. Plum Plimsy!” he cried.

Aside from the obvious help they’d need from the village’s doctor, it was imperative that the mother laid the egg in the parents’ house, for they were to constantly watch over it until it hatched. Problem was, Branch never really thought about starting a family when he first started building his bunker. In the middle of the forest. A good half an hour from the village!

If he didn’t have his wife about to give birth with him at that very instant, he would be working on a time machine to go back in time and smack his former anti-social self in the face.

“Easy there, Poppy.” he tried calming her down, “Just breathe in and breathe out, like the doctor taught you to.” He said while panting himself, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the pink troll.

“Oh, I’m breathing alright! It’s you who’s about to pass out!”

When they finally made it to the bunker and down the elevator Branch wasted no time in preparing the “nest” Poppy would be using to lay the egg. Those nests were made of warm and soft materials to keep the mother and the soon-to-be child comfortable during the delivery and the remaining six months; respectively.

As soon as Branch was done, he gently took Poppy by the hand and led her to the finished nest he’d made with the blanket and pillows they’d bought over the last three months specifically for that day. With Poppy comfortably located, all that was left was to wait for Dr. Plum to appear and guide them in the process.

Poppy just kept breathing and squeezing Branch’s hand, who feared he might lose the circulation of his hand from how strong his queen’s hold was. Finally, Dr. Plum made it to the bunker’s living room, “How are we feeling today, Your Highness?”

“Is giving birth a mood? Because then, yes, that is how I’m feeling today.”

Alright, sarcastic Poppy. Yup, she was in a lot of pain. But she knew better than to be a brat towards the doctor. “Sorry, I’m just in a bit of pain…”

“A bit?!” Branch choked out, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to use his right hand after that day.

“Worry not, Your Majesty. I have dealt with far worse.” The Doctor assured with a gente smile, “My Queen, this is a very simple process, actually. All you need to do is push when I tell you as you breathe in and out. Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“Good.  Now, push!” she ordered.

Poppy did as she was told. It hurt a lot, although Branch’s face was probably a lot worse than hers… Still, she could feel something moving inside her. After the first push, Dr. Plum asked her to breath.

This process repeated itself several times; the Doctor would tell the expecting mother to push, she would do as she was told, and then she had a few instants to breathe. Until finally…

“Push!” screamed the doctor.

Poppy was screaming at the top of her lungs with that last push. She could feel her insides stretching to impossible lengths as the egg made its way through. Just how big was that thing?! But despite the struggle, she finally made it; she’d laid the egg and survived.

“Poppy…”, her husband’s voice broke her away from her thoughts, “you did it… And it’s beautiful!”

From the corner of her eye she could she the tears in his eyes, and when he gently handed her the egg, allowing her to hold their future kid in her arms; she soon felt like crying herself! The egg was beautiful, just like Branch said. It had six different, pastel colours, laid in a horizontal position; purple, orange, yellow, pink, blue, and green. It was also coated with a thin layer of glitter than shined depending on the angle the light reflected on it, it also had a tuff of rainbow hair. And it was big.

“Uh…Dr?” Poppy called.

“Hm?”

“Are eggs supposed to be this big? Because the last one I saw was Tiny Diamond’s and I could’ve sworn his certainly wasn’t this big…”

The Doctor, resting her hands behind her back, just chuckled, “No, they’re not.”

That caused Branch to panic, “What‒? I-is there anything wrong with our kid, Doctor?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Your Highness,” she waved a dismissive hand at the royal couple, “Just that this isn’t a kid.”

“What, are you saying Poppy just gave birth to a colourful, glittery rock?” Branch deadpanned, sarcasm back at full force.

But Plum merely laughed, “Not at all, Branch. I’m just saying that you’re probably going to have more than one kid.”

“What?!” they both yelled.

“Yup, that’s why the egg is so big. It has more than one trolling inside!”

The king and queen just stared at her, both of their jaws just a few inches away from touching the floor, “Anyway, I should be leaving. Poppy, do make sure you rest a lot. You deserve it after this, and I’ll be coming regularly to check on the kids”, she made sure to stress that word, “Call me if anything happens!”

And with that, she was gone.

Poppy’s mind was blank. Sure, she’d always hoped she would have more than one kid, but she never expected they would come together. Still, those were some very good news, and the egg was finally there, and she had survived! The thought alone made the pink troll want to cry from happiness all over again. Despite her talk to Branch and his reassuring words a few weeks back, the idea of leaving her loved ones behind just like it happened to her own mother still terrified her. But that was water under the river now, she was in pain, if a little tired, and all that was left to do was watch over the egg until it hatched. And if there was something she knew, that was that Branch wouldn’t keep his eyes off of it.

“Well, that was… Something,” she chuckled weakly, “But can you believe it, Branch?! In just a few months we’ll be parents!” When a few seconds passed and she didn’t receive a reply from  her husband, Poppy turned to look at him, “Branch?”

There he was, lying unconscious on the floor. He had fainted.

“Oh, come on…”, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. Although a small part of her was actually amused by her grumpy man’s antics.

As soon as the news about the queen laying the egg had got out, the entire village was at the bunker’s door, asking how it went; if Queen Poppy was alright; how they felt… Of course, the Snack Pack were fiercely defending their place and right as the first ones to know, taking full advantage of Smidge’s intimidating presence and strength. Yes, they would be the first ones to find out… After Peppy, but he was the only exception!

The old king, on his part, had kissed and hugged Poppy over a thousand times the very instant he’d been able to visit them. He’d told her over and over just how happy and proud he was of her for everything she had accomplished with tears in his eyes, even mentioning that her mother, Queen Holly, would be proud too. Peppy had congratulated Branch too, and he’d almost hugged him until the former grey troll couldn’t breathe. Branch would never admit it, but a few tears had escaped his eyes when Peppy told him he was like a son to him and that he was incredibly honoured to be capable of calling him his son-in-law.

The Snack Pack gushed, cooed, and generally lost their minds as soon as they saw the egg. Satin and Chenille immediately announced they would be working on a unisex clothing line for the babies. Guy Diamond offered to be their babysitter, given he already had experience with his own child, Tiny Diamond. Biggie promised to help Poppy with her scrapbook of the babies, taking as many photos of them as she pleased. Smidge had sworn she would be the kids bodyguard, and that Hair saved whoever considered, even for just a second, to lay a finger on them. DJ Suki, on her part, told them she would help them create some lullabies for when the babies were fuzzy and didn’t fall asleep easily. And Cooper… Well, they had all birthday cakes until the children had their own kids sorted out with him.

The months that followed were stressful, but wholesome for the expecting parents. They decided they would take turns in watching over the egg and ruling over Troll Village, which included one of them would have to miss out on important celebrations; but their subjects were very understanding, they were going to have the future royal kids, after all!

Whenever it was Poppy’s turn to watch over their growing kids, she would bring her scrapbook supplies, some food and a blanket or two; one for her, the other to keep the egg warm. And even if she certainly was excited and overjoyed about her ever-growing family, she did get anxious from time to time, and certainly took her responsibilities very seriously.

Branch… Was Branch. When he was at his calmest, he would follow Poppy’s example and do whatever chores he had ‒that were safe, of course‒, in the living room, around the egg. But when, for whatever reason (generally nightmares that brought back fears from his grey days), he would feel extra panicky, he would basically make a bunker inside his bunker. To ensure the kids’ safety.

They both were very excited about being parents, but they were very worried, too. Luckily, it only took each other a talk with their soulmate to ease their minds. And every time it happened, Poppy and Branch would keep watch over the egg during the night together, usually falling asleep with their heads resting on top of the other’s.

Then, one Summer morning, the day finally came.

Poppy was in the living room, keeping an eye on the egg, as Branch was in the kitchen making lunch, probably a healthy and light pasta salad; perfect for the hot weather. Poppy was working on a scrapbook based on the Glitter Palooza Festival that had taken place recently when, suddenly, she thought she heard a noise.

Looking around, she saw nothing out of the extraordinary, “Branch? Did you say something?”

When he replied that no, he hadn’t uttered a word, the pink queen just shrugged and resumed her scrapbooking. As she was cutting a piece of plush into a troll, however, she heard the noise again. It was some kind of rattle mixed with a creak. Curious beyond compare, she set her materials and scissors down and focused on finding the source of the noise. Maybe she didn’t have Branch’s accute senses, but she sure as Frosting wasn’t deaf, either.

When she finally heard the noise for a third time, she turned her head to the direction it came from, and she gasped. There, right beside her, was her egg, which was moving slightly and had a little crack on its shell.

This was it, the babies were coming!

She wasted no time calling her husband, “Branch! Come quick!”

At the sound of Poppy’s frantic voice, Branch came rushing in, “What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Branch, look!” she motioned to their nest, “The egg is hatching!”

When he turned to see that, indeed, the egg was hatching, his breath hitched. They were about to be parents. He was about to be the father of Poppy’s children. His Poppy, his beautiful, kind, happy, and wonderful Poppy who seemed so unattainable just a few years back. He was so happy he could feel his colours shining brighter than ever, Poppy’s too.

Slowly, they sat down on the floor, just in front of the egg and never taking the eyes off of it. Finally, it cracked completely. And what they saw left them speechless.

Inside the egg there weren’t two, or even three children. There were six! All of them girls, and each of them was of one colour reflected on the, now, broken shell; purple, blue, green, orange, yellow, and pink. And they were perfect!

Tentatively, as it to not hurt them by accident, Poppy and Branch held them in their arms, admiring the beautiful gift they’d just received. There was no stopping the tears that threatened to escape the both of them. They did it, they were parents.

………

Ever since the girls had been born, life had been more of a blessing to the residents of Troll Village than ever, especially to the kids’ parents.

For the last few years, Poppy and Branch had done everything in their power to balance their personal and professional lives, so, as much as it pained them to, they had to ask for babysitters now and then, since they couldn’t afford rescheduling or having one of the too missing important meetings constantly. But, all in all, even if their life was crazier and busier than ever, it was also happier. Withouht a doubt.

The girls had brought them so much joy!

The funniest thing was that, not only were they all of a different colour, they also had quite different personalities. Even from their parents’! It was almost as if they’d taken a personality trait from Poppy and Branch each and turned it into their core way of being. And just like that one could define the six young princesses: Violet, Rosie, Aster, Daisy, Lily, and Pansy.

Violet was a light purple trolling with slightly tousled, dark purple hair, a pink nose and bluebell eyes. She was, without a doubt, the diva of the sisters. She simply loved fancy outfits, shiny things, and absolutely loathed getting dirty. She was, in fact, the only sister who didn’t mind not being able to go to expeditions to the forest with her father. And she was a sucker for attention, the kid simply lived for being in the middle of the spotlight. Honestly, if Poppy didn’t know any better, she’d say Violet was the twins’ and Guy Diamond’s kid; who, by the way, simply adored the little princess, and constantly asked if she could model for them, or take part in his plays; respectively.

Rosie was a hot pink little girl with silky flamingo pink hair, a green nose, and green eyes. Rosie, despite being the most physically similar of the girls to her mother, had inherited her father’s shy personality and his tendency to snitch on trolls she was suspicious of. But she made up for it by being incredibly gentle and kind, as well as a hopeless romantic. And, oddly enough, she seemed to be attracted towards Rock trolls and their music, which her father hoped was just a phase…

Aster was the opposite of Rosie. That is to say, physically speaking, she was the one whose colours were closest to Branch’s, for she had periwinkle skin and wild, curly sapphire hair whose bangs covered her eyes, and a fuchsia nose. Their fashion sense was quite similar, too. However, she was nowhere near as cautious as him; in fact, she loved adventure, all types of sports, and challenging herself. Just like her mother did, in her own way. And, although some would define her as somewhat of a tomboy, she was simply fascinated by butterflies.

Daisy was a little Poppy 2.0. Sure, her colour palette was nothing like Poppy’s, having orange skin and hair, her dad’s purple nose, and green eyes, alongside an adorable gap in her two front teeth; but her personality and hobbies were 100% Poppy. Daisy was always on the move, she was the life of the party, and got pretty upset whenever her parents would tell her she couldn’t go to certain events because she was too young. But she was just as artistic, constantly drawing and hanging decorations… It wouldn’t be the first time Poppy and Branch were forced to scold her for drawing in the walls when she should be sleeping.

Lily was the cool girl. She was a neon green trolling with yellowish green, shaggy hair, with a bang of it covering her right eye, and an yellow nose. Her down-to-earth personality was best defined as what Poppy and Branch could accomplish if they put both their minds to it. However, the girl had almost as much of a hard time opening up as her dad, only ever really being honest about her feelings and worries to her parents, who were always there to listen and encourage her to try and trust new people. And she was a huge plant nerd. She and Branch would spend hours in their greenhouse studying and looking after the vines there.

And, last but not least, Pansy. She was entirely yellow, except for her orange nose. Pansy simply loved facts, every single day she would get close to whoever was willing to listen and talk their ear off about any fact, about any topic: botany, art, survival skills, origami…; you name it. She adored learning new things, so she spent as much time as posible in the library. Everyone was convinced she’d live there if she could. On the other hand, her endless curiousity led her to yearning to become an explorer, always down to discover new places, which made her the most upset and disappointed when Branch told the girls they couldn’t come with him to the forest.

Despite their differences all six princesses had something in common: they had all inherited their mother’s glitter frackles and a varietion of her famous bangs, and their father’s ears.

Although Poppy had started her princesses’ scrapbook even before laying their egg, it was to be expected that it would only get bigger and bigger as soon as they were born. The moment the girls hatched from the egg ‒after both parents had gushed over them to their hearts’ content as well as crying like there was no tomorrow, that is‒, Poppy had picked up some remains of the shell and glued them to the scrapbook.

She did the same with practically every memorable moment in the girls’ life: the day their hair grew for the first time ‒second, if you count the strand they had to plant in order to grow their Troll Gem‒, the first party they ever went to, the first time they met Mommy and Daddy’s Friends and loved ones, their first visit to Bergen Town and other troll tribes… But, as the girls started manifesting their different interests and personalities, Poppy had to add more sections. One dedicated to a daughter each.

She just didn’t expect she would have to add a seventh section anytime soon, though. But she did.

Again, she found herself in quite a pickle. Not because they were bad news but because… They were shocking. And, to this day, her dear husband still had a lot to improve when it came to receiving shocking news. Not to mention, now it wasn’t only telling Branch. Now, they had six daughters to get explain the whole situation to.

But first, she had to tell the troll who was supposed to be better at handling such information. Key words being “supposed to.”

The Queen of the Pop Trolls decided it’d be best to tell him at nap time, when the girls would be asleep and it’d still be telling him as soon as possible. She found him in his office, where he would go to to work on blueprints and plans for the kingdom. In a way, it was very similar to the day she told him she was pregnant for the first time.

“Branch?” she called him, “Can we talk?”

Looking up from his desk, he smiled at the sight of his wife, “Sure, my sweet. What’s up?”

“What’s up is… Um… I… I… I, well…”, she stuttered, “I wanted to tell you that… I’m…”

“Poppy?”, he asked, one eyebrow raised at her, “Are you ok?”

Oh, words be frosted! Frustrated beyond belief, she did the only thing she could think of that was effective; she took her husband’s hand and placed it on top of her belly. Just like she’d done the first time. The look of realisation and pure shock in his eyes was proof enough that he’d finally got it.

“Huh. I’m gonna register a patent on that move. It’s foolproof.” She joked.

Blinking hard, Branch tried to collect his thoughts. “Poppy… Are you pregnant again?”

“Yup”, she popped the ‘p’.

His jaw all but dropped.

“But, how?!”, given the pointed look his wife was sending him, he quickly tried to amend the slip-up, “Ok, yeah. I know how. Don’t answer that.” That was certainly too much, so, sitting back down at his desk, they both stayed in silence for a few minutes, “I just… I can’t believe it! I mean, we already have six kids!”

“Glad to see you still remember how to count.” Poppy smirked at him.

Her joke wasn’t well received, though, for it only made her husband scowl lightheartedly at her, “I’m supposed to be the sarcastic one of the two, that’s basically my thing! Don’t steal it, it’s not natural when it comes from you.  Stop it. Seriously, stop it.”

Chuckling, she made her way to the wooden desk. She leaned ever so slightly over it to make herself comfortable, all the while finding the situation to be quite amusing, “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Are you finally over it? Or do you need a few more minutes to be shocked?”

“I’m gonna take you up on that.” He sighed, “It’s just… Wow. Seven kids, Poppy. Seven!”

“Branch, unless you want me to ‘steal your thing’”, she air-quoted, “you really ought to stop making it so easy.”

“Right. Sorry. But, oh my Gem!” he threw his hands up in the air at the same time as he reclined on his chair, “Before I became the King of the Pop Trolls I used to be the King of Safety…”

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen, am I right, Hot Stuff?” Poppy couldn’t help but snicker at the glare Branch was sending her.

His frown only deepened at her laughter, “Stop it.”

Once she managed to calm down, she rested her hands on his shoulders and started massaging them in an attempt to soothe him, “You’re freaking out over the wrong thing, my king. Having another kid should be the last of your problems.”

“Oh, yeah? And what, do tell, should be at the top in my list of problems, according to you?”

“Telling the girls they’re going to have a baby brother or sister who’ll probably have to receive a lot of attention instead of them. I’m sure our little Violet, a.k.a. the biggest attention seeker in Troll Village will simply love that.”

“Oh, cupcakes.”

“Oh, cupcakes, indeed.” As excited as she was, Poppy still felt a little uneasy over starting that new chapter in their lives all over again, this time, with six other kids. She was rubbing her temples, trying to figure out what to do, when a pair strong but incredibly gentle arms hugged her from behind.

“It’ll be fine, gorgeous.” Her king whispered in her ear, “We can do it. And as for the girls, we just gotta assure them that we’ll always love them just as much, even with the new baby.” He left the lightest kiss on her temple, “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, honey. You always manage to calm me down.” She turned slightly to meet his eyes, “So? Are you ready to be a for the second/seventh time?”

“With you? Always.”

Turns out, telling the girls hadn’t been as much of an ordeal as they thought. Sure, they had to explain to them ‒as vaguely as possible‒ how their mum had got pregnant and the pregnancy process. And sure, they’d had to assure them over a dozen times, especially Violet, that even if the baby needed a lot of attention for quite some time, they would still love them all no matter what. But, overall, their daughters were mostly excited; asking about just when the baby was going to be born, if they could play dress up with them, if they could sing and dance with them…

It was the cutest thing ever for their parents.

Just like it happened when they were expecting for the first time, the village, the Snack Pack, and Peppy were overjoyed, although none wasted any time to tease Branch about his hypocrisy when it came to safety and protection. But, of course, they were just joking goodnaturedly, and quickly offered their help for whatever they might need.

As the months passed, the girls would do their very best to help in any way they could. They tried to not get in any trouble; to not worry their mum. They spent as much time as possible with Poppy, trying to learn more about the baby. They would give a hand to their father in any chore they could help at, because they knew he was also very busy and stressed with ruling over the kingdom as well as taking care of his family.

When the day finally came for Poppy to lay the egg, Branch had agreed with Guy Diamond that he would watch over Rosie, Aster, Pansy, Daisy, Violet, and Lily while Poppy laid the egg. After all, none of the girls in his life needed that extra stress. Saying they were reluctant to be away from their mum and their future brother or sister during such a crucial moment would be an understatement. But alas, if they could help mummy that way…

When they finally came back home and got a chance to see the egg for the first time, they all gushed and squealed like there was no tomorrow. The egg, which was much smaller that time, meaning it only held one troll; was of a mint colour, coated slightly in glitter, and with a tuff of green hair. Poppy had promised the girls that, as soon as the baby was born, they could help her with the baby’s section in the family scrapbook.

After months of waiting and “Are they here yet?’s” from six very impatient soon-to-be older sisters, the time finally came one Winter day. This time, it had been Pansy the one who noticed the egg shaking and cracking slightly. And, since she already knew quite a lot about eggs from reading so much, she soon notified her whole family.

It was difficult to tell who was more excited, the kids or their parents. One thing was for sure, the best way to describe the feeling they all got as soon as the baby arrived would, indubitably, be with on word: happiness.

That was the feeling that reigned when little Sticks was born.

And a bit from smugness from Poppy’s part, actually. She had won a bet and now Branch owed her a hundred cupcakes.

………

Now that little Sticks was two years old and a lot less fuzzy than when he was just a newborn ‒the baby boy was adorable as they come, but he sure took after his father; he was a grumpy bear‒, the King and Queen of the Pop Trolls had decided it was time to update a tradition of the royal family.

They were going to take a picture for the family portrait.

It was a tradition as old as time, even older than the days of the Trollstice. As the members of the royal family grew older, they would take those portraits to commemorate how for they’d come. From the little princes and princesses as toddlers with their parents, the kings and queens, to the day when the heirs to the throne would start a family of their own.

In Poppy’s case, she had several portraits where it was just her and her dad, the closest she’d ever been to her mother being the photo Peppy and Holly had taken when she was still pregnant. But as soon as she decided to share her life with Branch, he would appear in every single one of them, and she no longer felt so alone. The first photo they’d taken was from after they got married, which both signaled the beginning of their own family and the rise to the throne of the Pop Trolls’ new king. Then, they had their own photograph with Poppy pregnant, something she’d insisted on back when she was still scared of not surviving. As soon as the girls were born, they’d posed for a few pictures with them, from when they were newborns to just before they’d found out a new addition to the family was on its way. And, finally, they were going to include little Sticks in their family tradition.

Their little boy, who was contently resting in his mother’s arms for he was a huge mama’s boy, added even more colour to their family. Sticks had mint skin, neon green hair, and a light yellow nose. And, of course, Poppy’s freckles as well as Branch’s ears. He was the missing piece to complete the rainbow the royal children formed together.

“Alright, guys…” Biggie, who was in charge of the photoshoot, said, “Smile and say ‘cheese!’”

“Cheese!”

From that day on, whenever they looked at that picture they would all smile, no matter the circumstances; if they’d argued with each other, if they felt sad, if they were over the moon with an upcoming party… It didn’t matter. Because whenever they looked at that picture, they’d be reminded of the most important thing of all: they were a family.

[drabblesofrapture]

Angel and Ghoul meet the King! (Superhero au)

Hey there kiddos, it’s your ol’ pal Dusty here again with a lil snippet I wrote for our superhero au. The young superheroes Angel (Johnathan) and Ghoul (Takeo) cross paths with one of Rapture’s most notorious supervillains: The King (Malcolm).

CW: some violence and broken bones

Another late night in Rapture. Most people had already gotten home from work, so the usual evening traffic had died down considerably. Still, car horns and the peeling of tires could be heard in the distance, typical for such a city. The lights in most of the small businesses and restaurants were starting to go out as the owners closed up for the night. Even the welcoming neon lights of Glen’s Diner went out. A few lonely souls wandered the streets, some taking refuge within Chugger’s Bar for a long night of drunken shenanigans. All things considered, it was a rather quiet night.

However, quiet or not, justice never takes a night off. Perched on the lonely rooftops were two of Rapture’s new young superheroes; the Dynamic Dude Duo themselves, Angel and Ghoul! Once again the pubescent patrollers were spending the night scouring the unforgiving streets of Rapture looking for crime to fight and people to help. They’ve found themselves in somewhat of a rut though, now entering their second week of seeing no action whatsoever. 

“Shit,” Ghoul breathed as he paced around the roof, his gloved hands furiously rubbing his bare arms. His entire torso was exposed to the elements, save for his waste which was protected by a purple sash wrapped around it . “It’s fuckin cold tonight.”

“You’re the one who thought fighting crime shirtless would be a good idea,” Angel pointed out, not prying his eyes away from the street below. He was crouched on the very edge of the roof, like any typical brooding superhero.

“Whatever man, I still look badass,” Ghoul scoffed in return, puffing his chest out only to shrink back in on himself as a shiver ran down his spine.

Under the mask, Angel rolled his eyes at his poorly prepared pal. He undid the clasp of his capelet and tossed the garment to Ghoul. “Here, take this.”

He caught the capelet and looked down at it for a moment before sheepishly draping it about his bare shoulders. It was a bit tight for his broad frame, but it would do. “Thanks..”

“Just bring a jacket next time.”

Pulling the capelet around himself, Ghoul walked over to Angel and sat down beside him. He let his legs idly dangle back and forth off the ledge of the building. “Think we’ll see anything tonight?”

“I hope not,” Angel said, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn. “I should be working on that paper for english class; it’s due Tuesday and I haven’t even gotten a start on it yet.”

“Aw c’mon Johnny! Fighting crime is way more important than school!” Ghoul replied, his lips pulling back into a grin to reveal his pointed teeth.

“If heroism starts affecting my grades then my aunt is going to know something is up,” Angel pointed out. “She’s already becoming suspicious of how late I stay out most nights.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly before easing his grip and allowing his hand to slide down the rest of his face. “I swear, between patrolling with you and all the things Evelyn is having me do, this heroism thing is starting to run me ragged.”

Ghoul just gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back. “Don’t worry bro, you ain’t doin’ it by yourself; I’m by your side ‘til the end!”

The way the eyes of Angel’s mask squinted slightly gave away the fact that he was smiling. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Ghoul smiled and patted Angel’s back once more. “Tell ya what, let’s just stay out for like ten more minutes, and if nothing happens we can go home.”

Not even five seconds after he said that, there came a crash from the alleyway behind the building the two heroes were stationed on. The boys rushed over to the other side of the roof, being careful not to make too much noise themselves. They peeked out over the edge of the roof to see two men in the alleyway, carrying duffle bags into the dry cleaner’s shop through the back door. One of them was holding the door open, and he gave a reproachful look to his counterpart behind him who had accidentally tripped over a metal trash can, tipping it over. After a whispered scolding, both of the men shuffled inside, closing the door quietly behind them.

“Didn’t know the dry cleaner was open this late,” Ghoul whispered.

Angel shook his head. “I don’t think they’re here to get their clothes dry cleaned.”

“Well, what’re we waiting for? Let’s get down there and crack some skulls!”

“Takeo wait-” 

Too late. Ghoul had already jumped down into the alleway. They were two stories up, but with Ghoul’s powers it was nothing. Rolling as he landed, he quickly hopped to his feet and ran towards the door. Angel followed quickly behind him, bringing out his wings and using them to slow his fall. He dashed over to his comrade and pulled him away from the door as he began tugging on the handle.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Angel hissed. “We don’t even have a plan!”

“I have a plan!” Ghoul defended, throwing his hands up. “We go in there and beat the ever-loving shit of every bad guy in there!”

“That’s a terrible plan!” 

Ghoul was already trying to open the door. However, one tug on the handle gave away the fact that the door was locked. With a sigh, Angel lightly pushed his friend to the side and put his hand up against the keyhole of the door. A small black tendril snaked out of his hand and slotted itself into the hole, growing and contorting to fit the necessary space of the key. With a turn of his hand, the lock clicked and Angel gently opened the door. Ghoul was about to go right in, but Angel suddenly blocked his path.

“We’re only going in to observe, understood?” he said, holding a finger up in Ghoul’s face. “We don’t know how many more are in there, we don’t want to get in over our heads.”

“Dude c’mon, will be fiiiine,” Ghoul groaned as he pushed past him.

To their surprise, the place was completely dark and empty. The only thing there was the racks of clothes which looked so eerie in the dark. Upon further inspection, they noticed a light coming from behind the door to the basement. As they approached the door, they also began to hear faint voices coming from within. The boys looked at each other for a moment before softly pushing the door open.

They found themselves staring down a stairwell bathed in the yellow light of incandescent light bulbs. The noises from the basement became more clear as well; people talking, the shuffle of feet, and things being moved around. Angel was about to go down first, his leg extending out and slowly lowering down onto the first step. When he put his weight down into that leg, the step made a loud creak. They both froze. It felt like their hearts had stopped beating for a moment, and they both held their breath as they waited for the henchmen to take notice. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like any of them noticed as the noises downstairs continued. They let out a shared sigh of relief and stepped away from the stairwell.

“I’ll go down, you stay here,” Ghoul explained in a hushed tone.

He approached the stairwell himself and turned around so that his back was facing the stairs, leaning back, he reached his arms out towards the ceiling and stuck his hands to its surface. Once his hands were firmly stuck to the ceiling, he leapt up off the floor and brought his feet up to the ceiling as well, sticking them firmly in place. From there he slowly crawled along the sloped ceiling down the stairwell until he reached the bottom.

The two men from the alleyway were there, as well as a few other assorted henchmen and henchwomen. They were all quickly stuffing money from secret compartments in the wall into the duffle bags they were all carrying. One of the henchmen stood back from the others, frowning and tapping the barrel of his gun against his hip impatiently.

“Hurry it up you guys!” he barked. “The boss will be here any moment and he wants all this shit packed up and ready to go!”

One of the henchmen turned around with a confused look on his face. “By ‘boss’ do you mean the Boss or our boss?”

“Of course I mean our fucking boss! Jesus Christ Gary!”

“Don’t have to shout at me…” Gary murmured as he continued shoving money into his bag. The henchwoman beside him gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Angel watched his companion. The mask hid the concerned expression the boy had on underneath. His hands clutched at the door frame as if it was the only thing keeping him standing. Something was about to go wrong, he could feel it. He could literally feel it, it was one of his powers. A nagging ache at the back of his head. A cold sensation spreading down his back and causing the muscles in his shoulders to tighten. A pit in his stomach that opened wider with each breath. Something bad was about to happen. Something bad was coming.

No, not something bad, someone bad.

A hand suddenly clapped down hard on Angel’s shoulder, and he had to will himself not to let out a yelp. He spun around to face the stranger, and the eyes of his mask grew wide to match the horrified countenance underneath. This was no stranger, he knew who the tall man was from the very moment he laid eyes on the golden crown that sat atop his head. He knew that brilliant emerald green suit, he recognized that intricate masquerade mask and the dead eyes that lay behind it. He had seen it all countless times before on the news, the one thing he knew he would have to face someday when he first donned the title of a superhero. He was standing face to face with one of Rapture’s most powerful supervillains, the King.

The gloved hand on his shoulder quickly moved to his neck, strong fingers squeezing his throat and lifting him off of his feet. The King threw him down the stairwell. His body slammed right into Ghoul and both boys fell in a heap of tangled limbs at the bottom of the stairs. They wasted no time getting back on their feet, backing away from the stairs and into a wall of goons all with handguns trained on them. Both their bodies tensed, locked in fighting stances. The stairs creaked as King slowly made his way down them. 

There he stood, blocking the way to the stairs. His cold glare was locked onto the heroes. He took a step towards them, and then another. They couldn’t help but flinch when he approached. Two boys, kids really, facing off against what was basically to them a demigod. They’d seen the stories on the news, they knew the things he was capable of. What chance did they stand against someone of such great power?

“Leave.” His deep voice resonated throughout the room, sending chills even down the goons’ spines.

“Like Hell we will!” Ghoul growled, finally mustering up the confidence to speak. He took a step towards King, his teeth bared and his fists raised. “We came here to kick crime’s ass, and right now I’m looking at the King of Crime himself!”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” King clarified. His piercing green eyes scanned over his underlings standing behind the heroes. “All of you, leave. I will deal with the heroes myself.”

They all seemed more than eager to follow their bosses rules, all quickly shuffling up the stairs as soon as he finished speaking. The heroes made no attempt to stop them, both locking gazes with the supervillain before them. Once they heard the door upstairs shut, the fight was on.

Ghoul lunged forward with a mighty roar. He took a wild swing at the King who dodged effortlessly out of the way. He threw a jab straight for the villain’s chest, but King avoided it with a simple sidestep. A wild frenzy of punches ensued, all of which the King easily evaded. Ghoul threw a jab for his jaw but found his fist caught in the villain’s hand.

“Your form is sloppy,” King commented. His fingers tightened around Ghoul’s fist, causing him to wince. There was a loud snap and Ghoul howled in pain as the bones in his hand shattered. His face caught the back of King’s other hand and he went flying into the wall, knocked unconscious.

The King then made a lunge at Angel. He barely had enough time to throw up a wing to block a lethal punch for his head. Angel staggered as the fist made contact with his wing, nearly forcing him to his knees. The wing swung outwards to push the villain back. It succeeded, but King was immediately back on the offensive. Angel was stuck on the defensive, constantly blocking a flurry of punches with his wings. When the barrage let up, he opened his wings to let out his own barrage of black projectiles shooting out from their inky depths. King was faster though, dropping down and sweeping Angel’s legs. He was thrown off balance, and King moved at inhuman speed to get back up and slam Angel into the floor. 

“Pathetic,” King spat as he stared down at the defeated hero on the ground who only let out a strangled groan in response. “Killing you two wouldn’t even be worth my time.”

With that, he turned away and began walking to the stairs. Angel wanted to get back up and stop him, but he feared what would become of him if he did. Instead, he lay there in his own loss until King’s footsteps faded away and the door upstairs shut once more. Once he was sure that the villain was gone, he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position. His entire body seemed to scream in protest as he did. Now that he was sitting, he then slowly got to his feet and staggered over to his unconscious friend. He scooped Ghoul up with his wings and carefully carried him up the stairs and out of the building.

The King and his goons were all gone by the time they got out. Angel couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh. The first action they see in weeks and it turns out to be the most major loss they’ve faced so far in their superhero careers. He gently set his friend down on the concrete before sitting down next to him. He let his face rest in his hands for a moment before letting out another loud sigh.

A groggy moan escaped Ghoul’s lips as he started coming to. An eye fluttered open, and he looked over at his sullen comrade. “Did we win?”

“No,” Angel said bluntly. “We got our asses kicked.”

“Ah fuck..” Ghoul breathed out. He reached out a hand and patted his friend’s knee. “Don’t worry man, we’ll get the fucker next time.”

Angel looked down at the battered Ghoul before staring off into space. “Yeah… next time…”

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Eleven

Prophecy Masterlist wc;3197

Three days had passed in Wooyoung's company.

And you had to admit, your affections for the Elven mage were growing. Quickly.

The past evenings had consisted mainly of Wooyoung and Yeosang plotting in the tower, while you sat idley by and attempted to help to no avail. It was really beginning to frustrate you now; how the mage would constantly remind you how it was your fault, yet he wouldn't let you help them.

They had both insisted it was 'too dangerous for a young girl to get involved in', as if anything about your lifestyle was remotely safe.

You had argued with Yeosang on the second evening, demanding that they let you get involved, that you might be able to provide something useful. But they had once again dismissed you, telling you that even if they did tell you, you wouldn't understand it anyway.

So you spent your evenings outside, plucking flowers and knotting them together until the sun disappears and the petals become as dark as Wooyoung's hair.

You sigh and throw yourself back down onto the grass, exhaling heavily in irritation.

All you wanted to do was help, to suggest something that could be important. And the fact they won't let you just because you're a girl was ridiculous. If they blamed it on the fact they were more educated on the stars or whatever, you'd probably understand more. But because you're not a male?

Ludicrous.

You lay there, staring up at the sky and stewing in your emotions until finally, your aggravation finally gets the best of you, and you fly upright, charging up the stairs of the tower and bursting into Wooyoung's room, where you find the mage and the astrologer deep in discussion.

"I want to help." you declare, hands on your hips as you watch Yeosang roll his eyes at you.

"Iris, we told yo-"

"I don't care, Yeosang." you snap, Wooyoung's eyes widening a little in shock. "I'm tired of you pushing me aside! I want to help you. Isn't this my fault in the first place?"

"Well yes bu-"

"Then let me help, for goodness sake!"

Yeosang stands frozen, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Were you really that mad at him?

"Okay, fine. You can help." Wooyoung shrugs.

"Wooy-"

"What? She wants to help, let her help."

Wooyoung motions you over to the table littered with parchments, while Yeosang recovers from being interrupted once again. If the mage had known how adamant you were on assisting them, he would've let you.

He had promised himself, the day he found you half-dead on the beach and decided to take you under his wing, that he would do his best to protect you, even if it killed him. He simply couldn't live with himself if he had yet more blood on his hands. But he knew that you were a force to be reckoned with, determined as you were stubborn. Maybe keeping you in the dark would have worse concequences than letting you help.

Yeosang joins the two of you at the table, opting to stay silent as Wooyoung gathers together the diagrams and papers they had been deciphering for hours.

"Yeosang and I have been studying all relevant constellations from the important dates noted in the prophecy," Wooyoung begins, his serious expression constrasted by the way his amethyst eyes light up with passion whenever he talks about the stars. "And the first mentioned date, many, many moons ago, is the first time the Monster in the prophecy attempts to destroy the kingdom."

"Monster?" you echo. "I thought it was just a man?"

"The writings describe him in many ways; monster, beast, man." Yeosang explains. "There's hardly a difference between them."

"Constellation wise," the elf continues. "the single most prevalent form is that of Ara. You are familiar, yes?"

Wooyoung takes your wide-eyed silence in the negative.

"Ara is a constellation named after the altar where the gods formed an alliance before entering war with the Titans."

"Okay.." you trail off, not quite sure how that relates to any of your situation. "And what does that mean for us?"

Wooyoung bites his lip, glancing towards Yeosang before settling his gaze back on you.

"It could possibly indicate a war between Ateez and another kingdom. For what reason, I'm yet to discover."

"A war!?" you shriek, and both Yeosang and Wooyoung place a hand on each of your shoulders to calm you down.

"It's not certain!" Wooyoung tries to reassure you, but he falls on deaf ears.

"I can't fight in a war!" you cry. "I don't know any combat, I don't know any magic! I'm going to die!"

Yeosang grabs you tightly at arms length, leaning down a little to match your line of sight.

"You won't die in a war, Iris!" Yeosang explodes, ignoring the concern on the elven man's face. "We won't let you, I won't let you. Understand?"

You nod, Yeosang's direct (and slightly harshly toned) claim settling your nerves for the time being. Perhaps it's time to pester him again about teaching you some magic.

Yeosang redirects your attention back to the astrologer, who is holding a new set of pictures and messy scrawlings.

"The second constellation I noted was that of Cetus, which was present on a different occasion where the monsterous being turned up to wreak havoc on Ateez. Cetus was also present recently, specifically on the date where you washed up on Yeosang's beach after a nasty storm."

"And what does Cetus have to do with the storm?" you ask.

"In mythology, Cetus was some kind of sea monster," Wooyoung explains, and you have to hide your awe at how much knowledge one person could have. "Typically described as a serpent, whale, shark, what-have-you, Cetus was sent by Poseidon to punish Queen Cassiopeia and her daughter Andromeda for boasting that they were far more beautiful than the Nereids, or sea nymphs."

"So, we think there's a high chance that a sea monster of our own was released during the storm we had not so long ago." Yeosang informs you, you heart sinking as the danger only rises.

"A war and a sea monster?" your voice increases in pitch, your panic once again growing rapidly.

"The monster is probably dead," Wooyoung reasons. "The storm threw you about as it was, it's a miracle you survived, to be honest."

Not wanting to dwell on the fact the astrologer just told you that you shouldn't be alive, you ask him if there's any other constellations of any significance.

"On the same day as the storm, not far from Cetus, I just managed to make out the faintest Libra, just to the north of it. As a result, I took a look at when Libra is next supposed to shine the brightest, and it's predicted to be relatively soon. Within the next month or so."

"That's great," you reply sarcastically. "But what does Libra mean? We aren't all star experts, you know."

Wooyoung blushes deeply, crimson burning his ears as he smiles sheepishly at you.

"Libra represents the scales held by Dike (dai-ki), the goddess of justice and moral order. It could indicate some injustice that will occur between then and now, or something similar. Of course, none of this is absolutely guranteed," Wooyoung reminds you. "I simply read the stars, take their meaning and theorise about what they may mean to us."

"Well, your theories seem pretty realistic to me." you mutter mockingly. "I'm not buying any of this nonsense."

"I haven't been wrong about a single hypothesis yet." Wooyoung's tone turns cold, and his gaze on you narrows. He understands that this might be overwhelming, but it doesn't give you the right to insult his life's work. He devotes every waking moment to this, and he will not let some girl diminish everything he's built up. And sure, he's beginning to warm up to you, finding the way you gently pluck the flowers in his garden and fashion jewellery out of them rather endearing. He'd never admit that to you, or to himself, but slandering the only constant in his life? He won't allow it.

"Besides," he adds on. "You insisted on getting involved, so show some respect, or get out of my house." Wooyoung snarls, violet eyes radiating venomously as he glowers angrily at you.

You shift your stare down to the ground, guilt and embarrasment washing over you like a harsh ocean wave.

"I'm sorry." you squeak, not daring to look up into his piercing, purple eyes.

"I also decided to check the constellations from the night you both arrived." Wooyoung says tightly, dismissing your brief argument and continuing on as smoothly as he good. "The only one that stood out to me was Ursa Major, although I am still unsure of what it means, if anything at all."

"What's Ursa Major?" you question.

"The Big Bear," the astrologer answers immediately. "I doubt either of you are secretly bears, so I'm assuming it has zero relevance."

"I heard a bear at the inn we stayed at the night before we arrived here." You blurt out hurridly, not catching the way Yeosang's eyes roll back into this skull. "Then I dreamt that the bear was attacked... I was worried he died."

"And I told you it was exactly that," Yeosang interrupts you with a huff. "A dream."

Wooyoung glances between the two of you, pouting and scratching the pointed tip of his ear in thought.

"Have you ever considered visiting an oneiromancer?" Wooyoung asks seriously, breaking the silence and causing Yeosang to scoff.

"Oneiromancy is a myth," the mage scowls. "Just a bunch of made-up bullshit in an attempt to earn some coin."

"Is anybody going to explain to me what ironmancy is?" you speak up, crossing your arms in annoyance; why do they always have to talk about subjects you don't understand?

"Oneiromancy (on-eye-ro-man-see)," Wooyoung corrects your pronounciation, stifling a small smile. "Is a form of divination using dreams to predict the future. The divination I do uses the stars, Oneiromancers interpret your dreams."

"So, my dream might actually come true?" you gasp, your eyes flying wide open.

"No." Yeosang growls.

"What's your beef with dream interpreters?" The elf teases the mage, who is leering at him with irritance.

"Nothing." Yeosang replies sternly. "I just think it's a bunch of bullshit."

"One could say the same about your strange plant addiction."

"It's not an addiction! I require an extremely extensive knowledge in order to carry on my work!"

"That sounds like something somebody with an addiction to plants would say."

"Listen here, elf-"

"Uh, guys? I hate to break up your lover's quarrel but... who are they?" you put their arguing to an abrupt halt, collecting their attention to where you're standing before the giant window in Wooyoung's tower.

There's a faint glow, just over the hills behind the astrologer's home. It burns a radiant orange, and all three of you know that it's definitely not the sunset.

"Shit." Wooyoung curses aloud. "They found me."

"Who are they?"

"Bad people, Iris." Yeosang grabs you and yanks you away from the window, motioning to the paper strewn throughout the room. "Pick up what you can, we'll need almost all of it."

The next few minutes are spent frantically stuffing loose parchments into pockets, bags, anything the three of you can find that you can carry. You grab handfuls of diagrams and shove them into the pockets of your trousers, even rolling a few up and tucking them into the soles of your boots.

By the time you've gathered as much of the work you can, you quickly glance out the window to scope out where the bad people are. Every single one of your organs drops to the floor, as you notice the gang of torch-wielders are marching up Wooyoung's front garden, trampling and burning the flowers and ferns you played in just hours before.

"We need to leave. Now."

You quickly scan the room, eyes darting left and right to try and spot something you might've missed. You see it abandoned on Wooyoung's bed, and you dart out rapidly to retrieve it. Clutching it against your chest, you hear the thunderous stamping of the mob charging up the stairs, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribcage.

Yeosang bundles you and Wooyoung in his arms, gripping you both tightly as he breathes in deeply. Your nose is pressed against the elf's chest, and in any other situation you would be blushing furiously. But right now, you're terrified for your life. For Yeosang's life, for Wooyoung's life. And in any other situation you would've slapped the elf for the way his arm winds around your waist to shuffle you into their man-made cage. But ironically, you feel safer than you've ever felt in your entire life.

"Close your eyes," Yeosang mumbles. "It's gonna be a harsh landing."

You and Wooyoung screw your eyes shut tightly, and you bunch his shirt up in your hands so there's zero chance of you getting separated.

There's no human words you can summon to describe how it feels to teleport. Both feeling as light a feather, but also feeling like iron weights have been fused to your ankles. You're both present and absent at the same time. Simultaneously existing, yet one inch, one misstep away from disappearing forever. It both passes in a second, and drags on for eternity. Your mere consciousness physically cannot comprehend such an experience.

What you can describe however, is the instant pain that shoots through your body upon impact. Yeosang's teleportation hurling you onto the ground, your arm trapped behind you, bent at an awkward angle, while both you and your poor arm are crushed by Wooyoung's entire frame landing on top of you.

,You could describe it very well, given the chance, but you think a simple 'owch.' will suffice.

"Wooyoung," you grunt and attempt to push him off you using your free hand. "Get off me."

He apologises quickly, rolling onto the grass and standing up. He offers a hand out to you which you accept, brushing the dirt off your clothes. Looking around you, you realise you're in a very familiar garden.

"Hey, Yeosang! We're hom-"

The smell of burning smoke and the sound of crackling flames hits you all in one go, and you're scared to turn around.

"Oh my god..." You hear Wooyoung whisper behind you, and the dread weighs down on you like a tonne of bricks.

Slowly, you turn around and the sight before you twists your stomach into knots.

Yeosang's home- your home- is entirely consumed by raging fire. The blaze has crept up the trunk of the tree, destroying the heart of the house directly. The flames lick at the walls and have already destroyed the majority of the roof. You can see into Yeosang's study, the aqua flourescent room now glowing a fiery orange, plunging the once ocean-like room into the deepest depths of hell.

Yeosang himself is stood in front of you, just off to the side, and looking at his eyes you can see the inferno reflecting in his tears. You've never seen anyone so broken.

"Yeosang, I'm so sorry-" Wooyoung begins to apologise, but the mage cuts him off before he can finish.

"It wasn't them," he cries, voice hoarse and cracking with despair and rage. "It- It wasn't the same people after you."

"Then who was it?" you wonder quietly.

But neither Wooyoung or Yeosang get to answer your question, as the culprits make themselves known. Barreling through the woods surrounding the house, swords drawn, grinning evilly at you. They form a circle around you, forcing the three of your backs to collide as you're stood defenseless.

"Well, well, well." One of them sneers. "Look what the cat dragged in." He slowly walks around you, smirking smugly at the way he's trapped you all. He's got dark, black hair, almost as long as Wooyoung's but styled much more neatly. Parted in the middle and flowing down into soft waves. You'd compare him visually to an angel, but underneath his innocent exterior lies something much, much more sinister.

"What are you doing here, J-"

"Don't even think about speaking my name, mage." The man seethes. "Besides, it's Commander to you."

"Alright, Commander," Yeosang finds the energy within him to mock the stranger, and you can't help but giggle. "Why are you here?"

"You see, it has been brought to my attention that there was magic present in these neck of the woods," The stranger's grin widens wickedly, eyeing the way Yeosang's jaw tightens with fury. "And I'm sure you agree, that simply will not do."

"So your solution was to burn a man's house down?!" Wooyoung bursts angrily, flinching a little when the man's gaze burns into his own.

"Oh? What's this?" He approaches Wooyoung in a fascinated trance, tilting his head slightly as he examines the elven features. He places the tip of his sword against Wooyoung's jaw, exerting just enough pressure to force his head to the side and exposing pointed ears that were raging red in humiliation. "An elf?" His voice raises an octace from excitement, something that chills you to the bone.

"I can do so much worse than burn a man's house down." The stranger's previous, eerily calm demeanour is gone, as he dangerously leans in to Wooyoung's face, teeth gritted and black eyes pulsing with hatred. "Believe me."

You're trembling with fear, the panic running through you that this could be the end of the road for you. This unknown villian turning up out of the blue with his gang of stupid merry men might kill you right this very second and snap shut the book containing the story that is your life. This could be your destined demise.

Yeosang though, has other plans.

In your frightened inner rambling, you don't notice his hand tighten around yours from behind your back. And from your position you certainly don't notice the way brilliant white bolts flash around his pupils, or the yellow sparks that shoot through his arms and neck like lightning during a storm.

"I've had enough of indulging your questions." The stranger sniffs, backing away from Wooyoung with a final, repulsed leer.

"Boys," he meanders back over to where he climbed out of the thicket, holstering his sword at the hip and looking dead into your eyes with a bored expression. "Kill them."

The band of men (you guess there's around eleven of them, but with the anxiety settling in, you could be seeing double) close in on the three of you, like a pack of ravenous wolves stealthily hunting down a tiny, vulnerable rabbit.

You feel the wind rush past your face, the down-swing of a sharp sword being aimed at your face, but it doesn't make contact with you.

Instead, you're momentarily weightless, floating through the stars, the planets and the worlds between you and the furthest reaches of the galaxy.

In the same breath, you make contact with a hard, wooden floor, groaning in pain as the three of you land in a painful, crumpled heap. Nursing your head, you survey the room, jumping out of your skin when a shriek pierces your ears.

"How many times do I have to tell you people to knock?!"

Chapter Twelve

hello,, i just wanted to note that even though i did research for this, i’m nowhere near an expert so, if you happen to work at nasa or something and everything i’ve said is incorrect, no it isn’t <3

[straight-into-the-animus]

Suffered Worse Than This (Connor Kenway x Reader)

Requested by anonymous! I’m so sorry this took so long, but I hope you enjoyed! I’ve never written for Connor Kenway before, so I hope I did him justice! This is also my first my first ‘x reader’ for this fandom! (As a side note, I’m going to do my best to make these as gender-neutral as possible unless specified otherwise!)

Read on Ao3 here!

Warnings for discussions of house fires, injuries, hints of PTSD, spoilers for the beginning of the game

There wasn’t much in this world that had the power to scare your brave Assassin. You knew what he did for a living, had witnessed what his business took him to do. It had been made very clear when you had first met him, when he had saved you and your cart of trading cloth from wolfish British soldiers and brought you to the Davenport Homestead.

Then, you had seen him take down seven trained men with ease, face hidden by a cowl but impassive all the same, like an avenging angel wrapped in white. And you had been frightened until he spoke to you, winded only a bit but calm and measured.

None of that was now, as you woke in a soft bed, staring up at a decorated ceiling as sunlight streamed in through the windows. You knew instantly you were in the Davenport Manor, and memories of the night before -- you hoped you hadn’t been asleep for much longer than that -- swarmed in your mind; horrible hues of reds and oranges and yellows in your mind mingling with thick gray of smoke. It had filled your lungs to the brim, until it was all you could taste and breathe. The heat of fire was still at your back, licking at your arms, and despite that memory and feeling you couldn’t help but give a little shiver.

“Y/N?” You turned your head slowly to the direction of the quiet voice and realized it was Connor sitting nearby in a wooden chair that looked much too small for him. His hood was pulled back for once and you saw the worry etched into each line of his face. You had always thought that for as young as he was, he looked much too old for his age, like the world had been so cruel he had been forced to age long before his time. He got up and all but kicked the chair away as he came to stand closer by. “You fell asleep almost immediately. Are you hurting? Let me see.”

“Connor, I’m fine.” You were hoarsely able to make out after a coughing fit that went on for far too long. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m hurt.” It was a lie, you were beginning to feel dull pains spreading themselves throughout your body even as you spoke. You also began to realize that at some point you had lost your outer dress, now down to your bottom layer. The Assassin didn’t look all that convinced.

“You had some bruises from-” He paused for just a second, his even speech broken, before continuing on, “from the wood falling. I want to see if you have any burns that I missed last night.” He sat on the edge of the bed near your legs, and you tried to get into a sitting position to allow him a space to work.

“How is my house? It must have been… Been the fireplace. Or the stove.” It wasn’t that it was very big, just stone and wood, but you had important things in there, some trade goods inside with others in carts nearby. Connor didn’t look you in your eyes as he worked, hand smoothing over your skin and bandages. “How much survived?”

“Maurice and Terry were among the first there when I took you away. I haven’t gone back to check what is left. Though the smoke seems to have cleared a bit. The worst of it all has passed.

You sighed and leaned back against the head of the bed. “I thought you were going to be gone on ‘business’.”

���Originally, yes. But I had come back early, and… And I saw the fire over the trees. The house was…” His voice stopped again, and his whole body seemed to tense up. His brown eyes glazed over, dull and unfocused, and you were immediately on edge.

“Connor? Are you okay?” At no response, you reached out and put a hand on his shoulder cautiously. He wasn’t one for touch, you knew, especially if he didn’t initiate it, but this time he didn’t shy away. It did take him from his reverie enough to seemingly make him remember where he was, and you saw the focus and pain return into his face.

“Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Connor, love…” You quickly judged how your body felt before decided to hell with everything and getting closer on the bed to him. His eyes watched you move, but he said nothing. “Where did you go?”

“It is nothing. Just a memory from my childhood. An unpleasant one. It… It was my mother.” Connor never talked about his childhood, not for what you could remember. You knew where he was from, barely, but this discussion was new, and you kept your attention on him. “I was a boy. And we- Our village had been attacked.” He muttered something in his language before continuing. “I had been too late. But I saw my mother trapped, as… as the fires raged and wood fell. I was unable to save her. She was forced to send me away.”

“I’m so sorry.” You matched his volume, unable to say anything else. What could you say to such a thing? 

“To think I could lose you in such a manner, finding your house burning… with you inside-”

“Don’t think that, please don’t.” This time you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and taking one of his hand in yours, feeling the leather of the glove under your fingers as you rubbed soothing circles with your thumb. “You worry too much about too many things, too many important things. Your Brotherhood, these colonies, the war… Don’t add me onto that list. I will be fine.”

“You almost were not.” He was quick to counter.

“And you were there to save me. Connor, please.” You moved your head around until both of you made eye contact. “I am here. I will always be here for you. Nothing will take me away. And I know you will never fail in keeping me safe, either.” Things were silent as your words hung in the air between you both, emotion and promise heavy in them. Connor eventually nodded in a silent acceptance, the smallest gesture of concession.

“But allow me to look over your injuries again. I do not want it to get worse.”

“Of course you can.Then I’ll need to look over the house later tonight.” There was a slight pause before a hopeful tinge took over your voice. “But before that… this bed might be able to fit us? If you’ve been watching over me, I’m sure you’re tired. I want to look after you as well.”

That was probably enough to cause another stubborn argument any other day, but after a minute Connor simply nodded; your heart melted just a bit at the sight. And curled in closer to him within minutes, strong arms wrapped around you so gently, you never felt safer. There were things to talk about and issues to worry for, but you were content to let them wash away as you and your cloaked love held each other for just a few, wonderful hours.

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

I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request!  If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here! Safety and peace!

[marvelsdc22]

Bad Things

Intro: Hello lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! This was requested by @veteranwerewolf95​, I really hope I did it justice for you, bby!! This is my first song fic, so enjoy!! :)

Note: Song is called Bad Things by Machine Gun Kelly and Camila Cabello. I followed the music video for some of it. Some fluff, but also very angsty. Italics mean flashbacks.

Word Count: 2367

Well I’ve recently gotten back into listening to MGK(Machine Gun Kelly for anyone reading this) and was wondering if you could do something with Lena Luthor x Fem reader based on his song Bad Things with Camila Cabello?

‘Keep running, keep running’ you repeated in your head as you and Lena ran up the stairs of L-Corp, the two of you trying to escape the goons that Lillian had sent after you two with full intent on killing the two of you “Come on, this way” you said, pulling Lena up with you to the roof and slamming the door open with your shoulder, the two of you freezing when you got close to the edge of the roof, Lena gripping your hand as she looked at you “What do we do? I didn’t want this for you” Lena said, looking at you and gently cupping your cheek.

Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like Don't think that I can explain it What can I say, it's complicated Don't matter what you say Don't matter what you do I only wanna do bad things to you So good (so good), that you can't explain it What can I say, it's complicated

As the two of you stood on the edge, you couldn’t help but think back to all the good moments you guys had, smiling as several popped in your head, good and bad:

The two of you were relaxing on a blanket at a cliff that overlooked all of National City, just the two of you and the stars “I’m glad you found time to come here with me” you said softly, smiling at her as you rolled onto your side and propped yourself up on your elbow “Of course, I want to spend time with my girl” Lena said, smiling at you as she rolled over on her side as well to look at you better, you getting lost in her bright green eyes that the stars seemed to brighten even more “I love you” you whispered, freezing after you said it since you didn’t expect it to come out as naturally as it did since you had wanted to say it but you were too nervous to, watching as she froze as well before she broke out into a grin “I love you too, Y/N” Lena said, leaning forward and crashing her lips to yours, the two of you making love under the stars for the first time. Aye Nothing's that bad If it feels good So you come back Like I knew you would And we're both wild And the night's young And you're my drug Breathe you in 'til my face numb

“Lena” you said as you walked into her office, not even bothering to knock since you were tired of the radio silence you were getting from her, watching as she snapped her head up to look at you “What are you doing here?” She asked, furrowing her brow as she stood up and walked over to you “Do you not remember what day it is?” You asked, looking at her and watching her think before realization spread through her features “Our anniversary” she sighed, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes “Y/N I’m so-““Don’t, I don’t want to hear it, Lena… I’m going to stay at a friend’s house for a few nights” you said, looking at her and watching as tears shined in her eyes “But-“ Lena said, getting cut off when you held your hand up before you turned on your heel and left; that only lasting a few days before you came back and the two of you whispered apologies to one another throughout the rest of the night.

Drop it down to that bass drum I got what you dream about Nails scratchin' my back tatt Eyes closed while you scream out And you keep me in with those hips While my teeth sink in those lips (yeah) While your body's giving me life And you suffocate in my kiss Then you said I want you forever Even when we're not together Scars on my body so I can take you wherever

The two of you were laying in bed and catching your breath, you giving a small laugh as you shifted slightly “Did you have to scratch my back that hard?” You asked, looking at her as you rolled over onto your side to look at her better and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close and burying your face in her long black tresses “It’s not my fault you’re so good with your hands” she teased, laughing slightly as she buried her face in your chest “Good to know I’m being used for my hand talents” you teased, laughing when she pinched your bare side “I’ll wear the scars with pride, just like the rest of them” you promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and the two of you laying in comfortable silence until you both drifted off.

Like I want you forever Even when we're not together Scars on my body I can look at you whenever

You smiled slightly as you went to pull a shirt over your head and caught a glance of the scratch marks Lena had left on your back “Bra is going to be uncomfortable, but it was worth it” you hummed, smiling as you looked at the scratches once more before you tugged your shirt on before leaving the bathroom and heading into the kitchen, finding Lena looking intently at her phone as she drank her coffee and finding yourself thinking of how you couldn’t wait to wake up to this every morning, making you freeze ‘Do I want to marry her?’ You thought to yourself as you looked at her ‘Yes, yes I do’. Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like Don't think that I can explain it What can I say, it's complicated Don't matter what you say Don't matter what you do I only wanna do bad things to you So good, that you can't explain it What can I say, it's complicated (Damn)

The two of you were at game night with the rest of the superfriends, you and Lena were squished next to each other on the couch with Winn sitting to your left and Kara sitting to Lena’s right “Anyone want anything else to drink?” Alex asked as she stood up, causing the game you all were playing to pause “I’ll take another beer” Winn said, looking at Alex and watching as she nodded before heading into the kitchen, you watching her head in there before you looked at Lena who was on her phone “Lena” you sighed, looking at her and watching as she waved you off before she stood up “I gotta go, my mother apparently needs my help” she said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before she said goodbye and headed out, you sighing and pouting for a moment but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at her for long, even though she left for work over you a lot of times you could never stay mad at her, it was complicated to explain but you loved her and you know this would all be worth it in the end. Aye, I can't explain it I love the pain And I love the way that your breath Numbs me like Novocain And we are (Oh) Always high Keep it strange OK, yeah, I'm insane But you the same

“You’re insane” Lena laughed as the two of you sat in the middle of a deserted road, causing you to laugh and look at her “Hey, you’re with me so I guess that makes both of us insane” you said, grinning widely at her and you having told her your plan from the get go so she knew what she was getting into “You’re sure we won’t get caught?” Lena asked, looking at you and watching you look around the road “Lena, no one’s here, it’s highly unlikely” you said, smirking at her as you started the engine back up “Lets do this” you said, grinning as you sped the car up and glancing at the speedometer as you kept your foot on the gas 120… 140… 200… 250… 280 “Okay, slow down” Lena said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle but laughing as she said it, you starting to let yourself drift to a stop when you saw the red, white, and blue lights “Oh come on!” You shouted, smacking the steering wheel before you pulled over and rolling your eyes at Lena who laughed “Hush, you” you said, looking at her and grinning at her which she returned. Let me paint the picture (Yeah) Couch by the kitchen (Yeah) Nothin' but your heels on Losing our religion (Mmm) You're my pretty little vixen And I'm that voice inside your head That keeps telling you to listen to all the bad things I say

“Do we have to go?” You asked, pouting at Lena as you walked out in your outfit for the night, it being a Y/F/C knee length dress with black heels, looking at her and freezing when you saw her in her red dress that showed all of her curves “What’s wrong, love? Cat got your tongue?” Lena teased, smirking at you as she pulled on her red heels that matched the dress “You won’t be saying that when we get home” you stuttered out once you found your voice again, looking her up and down before she walked closer to you, you getting a whiff of her perfume she always wore, smelling like vanilla and her leaning close to whisper in your ear “Don’t worry, I’ll leave the heels on” she promised, lightly biting the lobe of your ear and causing your face to flush, hearing as her heels clacked on the tile after she left the room, leaving you standing there, flustered.

And you said I want you forever Even when we're not together (I want you wherever) Scars on my body so I can take you wherever Like I want you forever Even when we're not together (Oh, whoa) Scars on my body I can look at you whenever Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like Don't think that I can explain it What can I say, it's complicated Don't matter what you say Don't matter what you do I only wanna do bad things to you So good, that you can't explain it What can I say, it's complicated

You stood there, shifting from foot to foot, the weight of the velvet box feeling ten times heavier in your pocket as you waited for Lena to pull up, hearing her car pull up beside yours on the cliff, your cliff, before turning and smiling at her as she got out of the car “Hey, sorry I’m late” Lena said, pressing a kiss to your lips before the two of you sat down on the blanket you had laid out “Are you okay?” You asked, able to tell she was stressed and shifting to sit behind her so you could rub her shoulders, smiling when she released a relieved groan and leaned back into your touch “My mother is trying to kill me” Lena said softly, staring out over National City “She even threatened you, I can’t let you get hurt-“”I’m not leaving you” you cut her off, sliding your hands down to wrap them around her waist and pull her back against your chest, thinking about how your proposal could wait until another day. The way we love, is so unique And when we touch, I'm shivering And no one has to get it Just you and me (Right) Cause we're just living Between the sheets (You said) I want you forever Even when we're not together Scars on my body so I can take you wherever Like I want you forever Even when we're not together Scars on my body I can look at you whenever

You were walking with Lena to her office earlier that night since she had forgotten some things that she needed to work on and ever since the last assassination attempt on her you refused to let her go anywhere alone “Are you sure you left them here?” You asked, following her into her office and watching as she made a beeline for her desk after turning on the light, digging around her desk until letting out a triumphant ‘ah-hah!’ and lifting the papers “Told you they were here” Lena smirked, slipping them into her bag and you smiling until you heard footsteps “Is anyone else supposed to be here?” you asked, peeking out the doorway before quickly ducking back in when you heard a gunshot “We gotta run” you said, grabbing her hand before pulling her out of her office and towards the stairs.

Oh, baby Am I out of my head? (Am I?) Am I out of my mind? (Am I?) If you only knew the bad things I like (if you only knew) Don't think that I can explain it What can I say, it's complicated (yeah) Don't matter what you say Don't matter what you do (do, do) I only wanna do bad things to you So good, that you can't explain it (so good) Oh, baby! What can I say, it's complicated

Opening your eyes, you looked at her and gave her a sad smile, the footsteps approaching quickly before you jumped up onto the ledge of the roof and pulled her up with you, the two of you taking deep breaths as you both looked over the city, Lena clutching your hand in hers and turning to look at you with tears streaming down her face, you thinking about how the weight in your pocket felt even more heavier than before since you knew you’d never get to propose, reaching over and cupping her cheek “I love you, so much” you whispered, fighting back the tears to stay strong for her “I love you too” she said, letting out a small sob before the door slammed open behind you.

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End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! I have never gone this in depth in a song before so thank you for giving me the opportunity!! If you want to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!! :)

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[singeramg]

Midnight : Chapter 1

Pairing: Clark Kent / Black!OFC

Universe: DCMCU

Rating: The story will definitely be a M. Just not for a few chapters yet.

Warnings: Ummm, Nothing much for this chapter. 

Summary: When Gia, a Metahuman by force, left Metropolis, she vowed to never come back because nothing was there for her anymore. Secret in tow, she’s stayed out of the way of anyone that could destroy the life she’s built for herself. What happens when the Justice League needs her help reviving the one man she vowed to never see in the flesh again?

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing anything in DCMCU. I just had this plot bunny that wouldn’t go away. So if anything is wrong or off then idk what to tell you. As far as I know my character and her powers are original. Anywho, I hope you like this, please give me some feedback and let me know if you want more!

Midnight: Chapter 1

 I had taken more hits than I had been used to in my short time as a superhero, I could feel the fist coming toward me and ducked resulting in my attacker hitting his no-good buddy in the face. The sound of his nose breaking gave me furthermore proof of the force behind his punch. I used the distraction to kick the legs out from under the bald attacker while his friend grabbed his nose in pain. Another ran toward me, attempting to charge me, but I was quicker. Using my built up kinetic energy from taking various hits I expelled it from my body, sending all three attackers into the ally’s dirty brick wall, leaving them all unconscious.

 I huffed, finally letting the exhaustion out in deep breaths. The woman I had saved from an attack was also unconscious, having passed out due to her presumed injuries, but I was grateful that she was safe. It had been at least 4 years since I fought like that, and I was a long way from Metropolis. I conjured my bag from whatever dimension I stored it in when I heard the woman in distress, pulling out my cell phone, in my best worried and distraught voice I begged the police to hurry, there had been an attack but the men responsible were being held. With an unnatural leap, I landed on the fire escape above and then climbed up just enough to see but not be seen, adding a force-field to protect the young woman from harm, should the robbers wake up before she did.

The cops arrived fairly quickly and arrested the criminals, and leaving me relaxed as I  ran and jumped across the building tops, until  I landed on the roof of my shoddy but livable building. Scaling down, I waved my hand over my body, skin tight black and gray suit disappearing and matching face mask along with it , leaving distressed, dark washed jeans, and black sleeveless crop top. The high ponytail and makeup never left my face so I looked like I had just come home from working one of my jobs at the local bar. It was exactly what I had been doing before I head the noises that lead to my intervention.

 Soreness from that level of exertion had begun to set in as I climbed the steps to my fourth floor apartment.  I opened the door, a small smile on my face as my neighbor, a friendly, and gentle woman in her 70s slept in my dark grey recliner (never mind I had gotten it just for her sake.) the tv replaying the news, despite it being so late. 

 “Ms. Alphonse, I am home.”

 I said gently shaking her, she jumped slightly and smiled once she realized who had been shaking her.

“Oh goodness me, Tiffany  you scare me every time you do that, how in the world are you so quiet?”

I chuckled, tossing my purse on the nearby couch.

“Guess I’m just good at it. How did tonight go?” I asked her, picking up the leftover plates off of my kitchen table in the small space. She stood and stretched, a small yawn followed, as she began to look for her keys.

“As always, a little angel. Gave me a little push back about dinner, but still well behaved.”

I nodded and smiled.

 “Good, did you leave your shopping list for me? I’ll be headed out tomorrow to do the weekly run.”

She moved to her purse and hands me a wad of cash and a piece of paper. I quickly try and hand the money back.

 “Now, Ms. A. You know this is too much! Plus I owe you for the week anyway.”

 “I told you as long as I’m breathing your money's no good with me. Plus me and the youngster are going to need some snacks for our movie night next weekend.”

I laughed, sticking her list and the money in my purse. 

“Fine, but please let me know if you need anything else this week from anywhere and I’ll be sure to get it for you.”

 “I am just grateful I don’t have to climb the steps with these knees being the way they are with bags of groceries. You are a godsend child.”

 She touches my face, it’s still a little sore from a blow I took earlier, but I do my best not to let it show. Somehow she knows it there, and her caress, dark and  withered against the caramel of my skin is cooling and comforting. Reminding me of a comfort long since lost to me. 

 “Sweetheart, you be careful out there.”

 I knew she had no way of knowing about my long since abandoned- recently-revived for one night alter-ego but somehow I felt she knew something was amiss. She didn’t push me however and left it at that.

 “Always Ms. A.”

 “Good. Now I’m going to go rest in my own bed. That chair is lovely but I need to stretch out.”

 I laughed at the dramatic way she cracked her back and walked her to the front door, then watched her walk down the hall to her door, making sure she got in and locked the door behind her , before I did the same. 

I sighed, resolving to do the dishes in the morning, I took my hair down, and walked to the back of my apartment. Stopping at a semi-closed door, gently pushing it open with my hand.

My heart always clenched looking at this little human. I could feel the energy of his heart beat pulsing as he rested so peacefully, not having any cares in the world. At peace knowing his mom would protect him from anything set out in the world to  hurt him. 

At least the best I could. I would do anything to protect him, even if that meant taking him away and hiding him. I left Metropolis before he had been born, vowing that no one would hurt my child in the ways I’d been hurt, no one would come after him because of his parentage, because no one knew he existed outside of being the son of a exhausted- young single mother named Tiffany March. He was Kyle March  and would stay that way for as long as I was alive. 

I hung up my alter-ego Midnight, a long time ago.

 Nobody would know that Kyle March and Tiffany March were not our real names at all.

 No one would know that Kyle was not fully human. 

 No one would know that Kyle was now the last child of Krypton due to the death of his father.

 No one could ever know that he was the Son of Superman...

A/N: SO I TRULY BELIEVE THIS FEELS MORE LIKE A PROLOGUE BUT DAMN ITS GOING TO BE CHAPTER 1 LOL

Thank you for reading and for your continued support...

[godsofmonster]

Bangtan MC ≽ IV.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 8.9k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal,  mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

My foot tapped against the pavement while I kept shuffling in my seat. The surrounding tables were empty, despite it being lunchtime. I could see over the balcony from my place at the table. My eyes watched down the street for any oncoming cars. I played with the glass of water in front of me, swirling the straw and knocking the pieces of ice against the rim. 

"(Y/n)?" 

I caught a glimpse of his figure from the corner of my eye. I immediately rose to greet him but hit my knee on the metal edge in the process. The feeling tickled my bone and shot down my leg.

I attempted to groan quietly but could not mask the injury in my expression. 

"Are you alright?" 

I felt his hand on my shoulder as I leaned over in pain. Great first impression, I thought. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, sucking up the pain and standing straight. When I turned to look at him, I was taken back by a pair of dark eyes. A set of thick black brows hung over his eyes, matching a head of full black hair cut short on the sides. His skin was tan and his jawline was cutting, I didn't expect him to be so young. 

"Anthony Romero," He said gently, offering his hand out for me to take in a greeting. 

I held his hand and couldn't help but stare at how attractive he was. "Please, sit."

I looked down to take my chair, being wary of the edge of the table, before seating myself. He took the opposite seat across from me, allowing us a moment to settle before speaking, 

"Well, you certainly look the part," He joked lightly, trying to break the tension between us. 

I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a rendition of what I had been wearing this entire week; dark-colored jeans, a Guns and Roses t-shirt, and my leather jacket. It was definitely a 180 to his city boy outfit. 

"I haven't had time to go shopping," I replied, stiffly. Even though, my current style was simply a more mature version of this. 

"Have you looked through the-" He took the menu in his hands, speaking casually. 

"I'm not very hungry." I cut him off fairly quickly. I didn't mean to be rude, however, I was uncomfortable being seen in public. 

I had advised him beforehand, that meeting, and staying out of Blackburn would be the best idea. The town could recognize an outsider from a mile away. In my opinion, the next town over was not far enough. "I'd like to say something first before we begin," 

"Of course," He set the menu down and gave me his full attention. 

There was a switch in his head that brought him from casual to business. I could see it on the night of his eyes. It was almost intimidating.

"I've been working with the DEA for three years, this job has given me a sense of moral direction- if you will," I said, hoping for him to understand where I was coming from. "I've had to leave this life behind a long time ago. I literally left everything here in California."

Romero watched me intently, his eyes searching my being for any signs I could give off. He read my body language, how tense and worried I was. 

"I can still leave all of this behind, but I can not- will not let this club die."

He sighed at my words, sinking back in his seat, as I continued,

"I want to help you take down the Camilo Cartel, but I need to know that our investigation isn't going to hurt the MC."

"(Y/n) I understand your relationship with the club, but you said it yourself, you haven't had a connection to them in seven years." I grabbed my drink, taking a sip of the cold water as I felt my body heat with emotion. "Bangtan has been on ATF's radar for years. They aren't a Robinhood club anymore- they're a gang. One that's been dealing arms to gangs all over California."

"We aren't ATF," I told him bluntly. 

He looked at me severely offended. I knew what my words sounded like to his ears. I had looked at him in the eyes and told him I didn't care. 

"You want us to cut a deal with the club?" He scoffed at the idea. "You know they'd never take it."

"No, I want you to make a deal with me," I tried not to sound demanding, but I needed to be honest with him if this was going to work. “Nothing I say about this club can be used against them.”

"You had a deal," He snapped. He didn't have to raise his voice to make me feel his rage. I could see it in his gestures, the fire burning in his eyes. "Don't forget, you came to work with us so you wouldn't serve a ten-year sentence for heroin possession."  

"The deal was I helped the DEA put away a shot caller," Back when I was shooting up heroin nearly twice a day, I had grown close to a high ranking gang member, who was part of a large network of dope dealers. "I came to work afterward because it was the only good thing I had ever done with my life."  

His stare only became more troublesome. I sighed to myself, also leaning away from the conversation. "I understand if you can't make me this deal. But then, I need you to fire me and find another way to get to the Cartel. I'm not going to destroy this club or let them destroy themselves."  

"You think you can save them?" He asked as if I was filled with senseless hope. 

"If they don't taste this drug money, I think we can," I was stubbornly hopeful.  

"The DEA just wants the Cartel. As long as you help us through the information from Bangtan, we won't prosecute them." Agent Romero stood from his chair and pulled out his phone. "I'll make the call and get you the paperwork."

I could finally breathe easy once he stepped away to make that phone call. Bangtan could never understand my situation, why I would be working with the DEA in the first place. It was everything our lifestyle preached against. We were anarchists. 

Emma Goldman said,

Anarchism stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion. The liberation of the human body from the coercion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. It stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals. 

That's what Bangtan was supposed to represent and it did, a long time ago, before it knew the payment of sin. When your life is moved off the social grid, you give up on the safety that society provides. On the fringe, blood and bullets are the rules of the law and if you have convictions, violence is inevitable. When you take action to avenge the ones you love, personal justice collides with social and divine justice. You become a judge, jury, and god. Some people cave under the weight, others abuse the momentum. But the true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in their heart and the reason in their mind. 

Bangtan was lost under my father's leadership. I didn't realize that until I was gone from his side. I hated to admit that maybe, under Namjoon, the club could find their way back. I just had to make sure that happened.

"I'll have the paper ready for you later tonight," Agent Romero said, returning to the table. He pulled the chair out for himself, "I'm hoping to just go over some basic information with you for right now." 

"Alright," I would still be mindful of the information we discussed, nothing would be set until I signed those papers.  

I moved into the front of my jacket, taking hold of a pack of cigarettes that I regretted at the moment of purchasing, but now was grateful for. Romero remained with his phone in his hands, looking through images that I couldn't make out from my seat. 

"As of right now, the number of members in the club is unknown to us. However, we think it's somewhere between twenty-five to thirty." He said, his eyes still trailing over the screen. I pulled out a square from its tight pack, arranging it between my dry lips and flickering my zippo lighter. Romero reacted to the sound, his eyes finding their way to me but not daring to say anything against it. "Of course, there are the eight members who are at the head of the table as of right now- well, seven now,"

He stammered over the sensitive information. Romero looked over my expression for any sign of discomfort. The only thing he found was the nicotine leaving my mouth in smoke form. "Bangtan was established in 1987, all of the original founding members are either in prison or dead. They are what is identified as part of the 1% of motorcyclists that practice in criminal activity for a living."

That was something that Bangtan wore as a patch on their cuts. The 1% patch referred to a comment by the American Motorcyclist Association, that 99% of motorcyclists were law-abiding citizens, implying the last one percent were outlaws. "According to ATF reports, Bangtan established a direct line to a secret Russian group that dealt with firearms. Despite constant observations and raid attempts, they've never been able to catch them with a large possession of illegal firearms."

"Bangtan doesn't cross their money streams, the bar is a legitimate business. They have a separate location for their illegal activity." I said to him. 

They learned that the hard way. The only thing you would find in the bar is watered down alcohol and burner phones. 

"They built a compromise with the Pure Brotherhood fifteen years ago, to keep the drug trade out of Blackburn." My father knew what drugs could do to a person. He didn't want me, or any of the youth in the town to grow up knowing that trouble. 

"Until now," Agent Romero placed his phone on the table and sighed. He knew my words were true and that things were about to get much worse. 

"You have to know, as well as I do, that Bangtan joining the Cartel is a matter of when- not if." I did know. I just didn't want to admit it. "If it comes to supporting a neo-nazi group, who are preparing for the great race war- or an organized, billion-dollar trade. The option is pretty clear to me." 

Romero was right. Supporting a racist organization was never something the club appreciated. It was bad business and the Camilo Cartel was the perfect way out of it. 

"The club knows how commanding Camilo will be. They won't give in without some kind of backlash of other members." I said, hoping that was enough to stall them. 

He didn't seem very convinced by my reasons as a waitress came by with a glass of water for him. He thanked her and ordered something for himself that I didn't quite hear. 

"For you?" She politely smiled at me. I waved her off with a hand gesture, trying to be as pleasant as I could. 

We observed her leave the balcony to place his order. Romero set the notes of his phone away and began to ask me questions.

"What can you tell me about the local law enforcement?" There wasn't much to say.

"They obviously don't appreciate the sense of authority the club has over the town. But they have let a few things slide from time to time." I took another drag, a deeper one than before. "Are they going to assist in this investigation?"

"We'll have to let them know so that they don't interfere with anything." It was just courtesy but I didn't trust the Blackburn police. Bangtan would definitely have cops who were on their side. 

"How is your relationship with the current members?" A combination of the question and the nicotine made my hand tremble.

"I went to school with some of them. They're rather polite to me because of my father." I'm sure he wanted more detail than that. 

"What about your step-brother? Namjoon Kim?" 

"It's complicated," I said growing sick of the cigarette in my hand, tossing it to the floor. 

"Can you get close to him?" I looked Romero in the eyes and knew what his words meant. 

However, with our history, his words took on a whole other meaning in my head. A twisted smile appeared on my lips. 

"Yes, I can." 

-

After I met with agent Romero, I retreated to my crappy motel. I sat on my standing Harley in the parking lot and dreaded entering the depressing space. Then I recalled the comment Romero had made about my outfit. I decided against entering, taking his advice, and putting my father's money to good use. 

I left my bike parked at the motel and went on foot to the nearby boutique shops. I might have been raised by bikers, but I liked to think I still had decent taste in fashion. At least, when it comes to dressing myself, I'll wear anything as long as I can put my leather jacket over it. 

I stared at the racks filled with hanging clothing, the colors arranged in no particular order, made me feel discouraged. There was nothing but low-cut blouses that would slip off the second I hit 20 miles on my bike. I was pleased to find pants that weren't ripped or acid dipped. This particular store also had a fine selection of vegan leather. It wasn't as nice as real leather, but it was certainly cheaper. 

"Hey, (Y/n)." 

I didn't recognize the male voice at first, but when I turned around, I was greeted by a sunny smile. Hoseok was standing a few feet beside me, and Yoongi was just behind him. "Doing some shopping?"

"Uh, yeah," I responded, placing the brown leather jacket in the pile of clothes I had already picked out. I turned to face them a little more before asking, "What are you guys doing here?"

I specifically referred to the fact that this was a female boutique. The two of them looked humorously out of place in their leather cuts, standing in the small, soft-colored store. 

"His sister's back in town," Yoongi responded fairly bored. 

"I wanted to get her something," Hoseok explained further. I assumed he had dragged Yoongi along for some reason. "But honestly, I have no idea what to look for."

Hoseok looked a little flustered in his expression. I sensed that he was entertaining the idea of me offering him guidance. I suppose this could be my chance, to put my fashion senses to the test.

"Well, what does she like?" I prompted, hoping he would have some kind of outline for me to think in.

 "She's really into fashion but I don't know what size she wears," He said. His hand lazily pushing through the rack of clothing, like he didn’t know where to start.

"If that's the case, you can get her accessories," I told him. I figured that would be easiest for both of us. My eyes peered around the room, remembering having seen some stuff earlier. 

I spotted some things hanging on the wall on the other side of the store. I advanced in that direction with Hoseok trailing behind me. We pushed through some racks of clothing to reach the large wall of accessories. 

"There are hats and scarves,” I said, reaching out to touch some of the fabrics. Jewelry also hung in packs and pairs, the false metal reflecting the sunlight. “Maybe not this jewelry though, it looks cheap."

Hoseok chuckled as he eyed the things on the wall. Any of the things on the wall didn't seem too horrendous. I even kept my eyes open for anything I might like. Most of the wall was fool’s gold of necklaces and earrings. The bottom shelf held hats, nothing I found particularly interesting though. Some of the items looked to have been savaged by kids who could reach. That only left the scarves. They were dangling, one after the other, rows and rows of them. I came across a silk scarf that was cool to the touch. 

"Look at this," I said, getting Hoseok’s attention. It was a square shape scarf, with berry colors of flowers and patterns. "These colors are in right now, since it's almost autumn. The silk also won't stick to her in this California sun." 

"Yeah, this looks nice." He sounded satisfied with this item. He fiddled with the material in his fingers and then found the price tag. "$80?!"

I knew that silk scarfs were expensive, especially in a little boutique like this one. I patted his shoulder and gave him a fake empathetic look,

"That's the price of beauty," I joked. 

"As if this scarf is going to do all the work," He responded, a little annoyed. 

Hoseok settled on the scarf as a gift, regardless. I felt content with the hangers in my hand. It was enough clothing to keep me from looking like an angsty adolescent.

"I didn't see your bike parked in front," Hoseok mentioned as we strolled together to the register. 

"I'm staying at the motel nearby," I replied vaguely. Hoseok stood back and allowed me to put my things down first. I greeted the woman politely and turned back to look at them.

"That lousy place down the street?" Yoongi then questioned. Just by the look on his face, he seemed to know exactly which one."That place has roaches." 

"Thanks for reminding me," I bantered lightly. I should definitely look for a better place, I thought as the woman began to scan my items. I leaned against the counter, my feet aching a bit from just being up and around. 

"I thought Namjoon told you to stay at his place," Hoseok said, recalling the exact moment. 

"The prince doesn't always get what he wants," I shrugged. 

Then I failed to hide the sneer on my mouth as I found myself to be hilarious. I made eye contact with the other two also, only Hoseok smiled at me, while Yoongi awkwardly nodded his head. I thought they were a strange pair as I searched for my wallet on my person.

"Well, you should check out my new Harley," I was admittedly intrigued by Hoseok's offer. I located my purse in the depths of my jacket and peeped his way. By the look on his face, I could tell he was excited to show off. He was like a child in a candy shop.

"Oh, yeah?" I was interested to find out more. My eyes scanned the monitor of the register for my final price of the clothing. 

"Year model," He beamed proudly. 

I counted the bills of twenty in my hand before handing them over to the women. I grabbed a hold of the three large paper bags where my purchases had been stuffed into. Hoseok set the dainty scarf on the register next. 

"You still got your Deluxe, Yoongi?" I asked out of curiosity, recalling just barely the bike he used as a prospect. He simply nodded his head as an answer. 

I had been thinking of getting myself one a while back. I loved vintage style bikes, especially when they had modern engines. 

"Yeah well, I left the cruiser for a street bike," Hoseok remarked as we waited for him to finish paying. 

I thought a bike could say a lot about a person. I personally liked cruiser bikes over any other style. However, everyone in the club had their own preference. Jimin and I had a similar taste in bikes. We mostly found interest in the same Harleys, except that he owned a Low Rider, which was a billiard blue color. 

"What is it? An Iron 833?" I guessed. Thinking, in my head, that it was a well-suited bike for him. 

"Close," Hoseok laughed, as he took hold of a smaller version of my bags. We all began to walk toward the exit, the woman wishing us a good day. "It's an Iron 1200, solid black." 

I had an idea of what that bike looked like, but I had yet to see the new model for the year. "I just picked it up yesterday morning,"

Yoongi held the door open for me to step out first. Hoseok was still speaking in my ear as they followed out the door of the shop. His talking came to a soft silence as we were faced with the two member's Harleys. Their bikes were parked right in front of the boutique. Except, it appeared that Hoseok's new Harley was being used in a photoshoot.

There was a pair of strangers, a man who was posing on the bike with his motor racer jacket. A woman stood in front of him, trying to capture the image on a cell phone. 

"Take the damn picture, already." He cursed at her. The man looked annoyed every time he wasn't posing for the picture. 

"I'm trying," The blonde woman responded. She sounded very apologetic like she didn't want him to get upset with her. Like she knew what would happen if he did. 

Before I could even think to look at the boys, Hoseok was handing me his shopping bag. I took a hold of it and followed behind them as they approached the scene.

Hoseok walked up the woman as Yoongi circled his bike. 

"Here, let me do it." Hoseok smiled at her, gently taking the phone from her hands. The woman looked startled. 

"Shit," She was wide-eyed. "I-I told him on to,"

"It's all right," Hoseok was sympathetic to her. I came around to her side, gently taking a hold of her arm and guiding her away from the position.

Hoseok’s eyes rearranged to look at the man. "He looks like a guy that knows how to get what he wants,"

She followed my advice and stepped aside with me. Now seeing her face more clearly, I took notice of the healing injury on her mouth. "Did you do that to her lip?"

Hoseok questioned casually. The guy didn’t seem alarmed by any means, not even when he stepped toward him.

"Bitch has a mouth on her," The man said chuckling. He spoke to Hoseok as if he would understand where he was coming from. "You know how it is, right?" 

"Yeah, I do." Hoseok laughed, returning the man's smile. I was painfully aware of how close Hoseok was getting to him. He, who still hadn't moved from his seat on the bike. "So you like Harley's, huh?" 

"Well, they look good," He replied, patting a handprint on the metal of the gasoline tank. That made even me. even a little angry. "But I'm more into the slant bikes, for their speed." 

I eyed the Kawasaki Ninja 300 that was parked a few spots over. There was no way this couple was from Blackburn- people around here knew better. He was in for a rude awakening. 

"Right, right." The courtesy in Hoseok's voice brought an uneasy feeling in my stomach. He looked back down at the phone in his hands and tapped the almost sleeping screen. "Here,"

He said, holding the phone up to take the picture of the man. Yoongi stepped around his bike, standing right beside Hoseok. "Say cheese,"

I almost felt bad for the guy who dared to smile for the picture. After the phone clicked, Hoseok handed the phone to Yoongi. 

"That's before," Yoongi muttered loudly. 

It wasn't until then that the man noticed something wasn't right. 

"Before?" He asked. 

Hoseok grabbed his helmet off the handlebar. He gripped it tight in his hand as he used the back of it to swing a blow to the guy's face. The single impact was strong enough to make him drop off the Harley. He landed on the cold, hard ground. Blood was draining from his nose and into his mouth.

"Don't ever sit on another man's bike," Hoseok spat. 

"Oh my god," The blondie gasped beside me. You couldn't fail to recognize the giggle in her voice. 

"Shut up, bitch!" The man barked as he was still struggling on the floor with pain. 

Yoongi stepped in as Hoseok went to take care of his bike. He swung his boot into the man's rib cage, making him groan and spit out his own blood. 

"A little respect for the ladies," He warned, squatting down to get a good angle on the man's phone. The shutter of the phone went off again, capturing the man's new state of humble. "That's after."

Yoongi stood back on his legs and allowed the phone to slip from his hands, hitting the floor. 

By the time I thought to check on the blondie next to me, I caught her gawking eyes at Hoseok. I was half surprised to see Hoseok returning the look. He leaned forward on his bike, 

"So, where are you heading?" He flashed her a killer smile.

"Oh," She blushed under his stare. Her fingers fiddling the ends of her clothing as she tried to remain casual. "Nowhere special," 

"Me too," He smirked. Looking the girl up and down before gesturing his head behind him, "Hop on, angel."

This girl wasted no time hesitating. There was even a little kick in her step as Hoseok handed her the helmet he had just used to break her boyfriend's face. I stepped forward to return Hoseok's gift as she straddled on behind him, slipping the helmet over her face. I lost interest sometime before they exchanged names. 

I glanced at the man still laying on the ground. His eyes were wandering over the blood that stained his hands in disbelief. I imagined the blow to the face had left him a little hazy in the head.

"Why don't you let Yoongi give you a ride, (Y/n)?" Hoseok then suggested. The engine of his new bike began to roar. 

The thought wasn't well-received in my head. I had a personal ordeal with men seeking to have me on the back of their bikes. Though I was well aware this wasn't the situation, I couldn't help but be hesitant. 

"Unless you want to stay with the likes of him," Yoongi pointed out, motioning his head to the unfortunate figure on the pavement. 

He gave me the time it took to light his cigarette to think about it. I wasn't afraid of that guy, not after what Hoseok did to him, not after what I had tucked into my jeans. But I figured avoiding the confrontation would be beneficial for everyone. 

"Alright," I said stepping off the sidewalk into the street.

Yoongi left his helmet on the handle of his bike for me to grab. Unlike mine, he had a half helmet that would only serve my brain on a platter if we crashed. I adjusted the loose straps around my chin and switched all my bags to one hand. 

"Better hold on, princess." Yoongi teased as I mounted the seat behind him.

"Don't call me that," I groaned, starting to get irritating flashbacks that made me doubt my current judgment.  

The engine of his Harley trembled under me as I hooked my free hand around his waist. 

His Delux wasn't necessarily meant to hold a passenger but we weren't going very far. I had to scoot in closer to his body, to make sure the weight distribution wasn't too off-center. Many inexperienced riders don't know the difference between riding solo and with someone else. In addition to the extra weight, a passenger changes the center of gravity and how the bike rides. Though, I was certain it wasn't the first time Yoongi had company during a ride. 

"Gem?" I heard the man call over the rumble of the motor. "Gem!"

We were already backed into the street, Hoseok obnoxiously hit the gas on his bike. Yoongi and I followed closely behind him, leaving the man to stumble onto his feet. 

The motel was roughly five minutes away from the shop. Hoseok and his new friend accompanied Yoongi to drop me off. Riding in the back reminded me a lot of being young, I would beg my father to take me for a spin. I would wrap my arms tightly around him, as my head rested on his back. Down these same roads, he would drop me off at school or take me for ice cream. It didn't help that I stared at Yoongi's cut the entire way. Those were some memories I didn't visit very often because they saddened me. Now, more so, than ever. 

The Harleys pulled up in front of the motel. Hoseok parked just beside my bike. Yoongi pressed on the break gently, allowing the bike to come to a complete stop, before planting his feet on the ground. I freed his torso from my arm, adjusting my other grip around my shopping bags, before patting his shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride," I said a bit stiffly. I had to depend on Yoongi's shoulder for stability as I attempted to unmount the bike. 

"No problem," He spoke, still maintaining a cigarette in his mouth. 

He took his hands off the handlebars and rested back in his seat. "I'm sure you could have handled yourself,"

His comment fell ghastly on my ears. I transferred my bags to my other hand, my left-hand aching from having been gripping them as I watched him. 

"I mean, I've seen what you could do with that foot." He said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and between his fingers. He was clearly referring to the night I arrived when I lost my temper with that PB member. 

"Yes, well, I have my old man's passion," I replied calmly. Though, something in Yoongi's stare made me feel a bit uneasy. His words were hinting at something else. 

"And you're pretty passionate with a gun." The way he looked at me when he said that it was full of doubt. Our eyes correlated, and I felt like his black orbs could see right through me. 

"It reminded me of a cop,"

 A shiver crept down my spine, and my shoulders fell heavy. My manner of confronting that PB member screamed police to any outlaw. My impulsiveness had kept me from thinking that through. 

It was the first time I was being questioned about it. I thought it had slipped by everyone's mind, but not his. 

"Did I scare you that bad, Yoongi?" I teased, trying to react the way I normally would. "I'm just cautious like the rest of you," 

Yoongi didn't appear to be swayed by my words. He brought his cigarette back to his mouth, his cheekbones hollowing in as he took a drag. I was debating on waiting for him to say something else, or on trying to keep justifying myself before Hoseok cut into our conversation. 

I had never been so grateful for Hoseok's existence. 

"Yoongi," Hoseok called out in front of us. We both turned to look at his place still sitting on his Harley. 

We then realized that Hoseok was gesturing to the other side of the lot. We followed his gaze over to a set of people by the sidewalk. 

They were too far away to distinguish any particular details of their identity. However, it looked like two males that were having an eager conversation. I noticed their head kept turning from side to side, and they couldn't keep still. Just when I began to think that it was nothing, one of them reached out for a handshake. 

No one was supposed to deal in Blackburn.

"Jesus Christ," I caught sight of Yoongi flinging his cigarette in a fit. He beat down his kickstand with the bottom of his boot, before making his way off the Harley. 

"Looks like PB," Hoseok stated, accompanying Yoongi's action. 

When he unmounted his bike, blondie gave him a confused stare as she reached out to touch his hand. Her eyes like a lamb gazed at Hoseok sweetly.

"Stay put, angel." He said, using the touch to bring her in closer. He gently touched her chin and planted a kiss on her busted lip. She smiled, uncertain by his words but agreed, regardless. 

"Let's go," Yoongi called, his hand reaching behind him. Without drawing his weaponry, he maintained his hand resting on the handle of the gun under his leather cut. I followed in his footsteps, unsure of what I should do in this situation. 

 Should I attempt to interfere? Or will there be a shoot out right here?

I set my bags on the floor before catching up to Yoongi who was already by Hoseok's side. 

The hooded man remained standing at the end of the parking lot, near the street corner. His customer had vanished but he was still occupied with his cell phone. 

Hoseok noticed me trailing behind Yoongi, 

"Keep an eye on her," He told me, gesturing his eyes to the scared woman on his motorcycle. 

I had to babysit his groupie? 

I stopped where I stood, just beside Hoseok's Iron. I could see blondie looking in my direction, but I was watching Hoseok and Yoongi approach the standing figure. I forced strands of hair away from my line of sight. I could feel my heart begin to beat against my chest. My limbs become stiff as stone. 

I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do in a situation like this. This was my first event as a field agent, and I was about to let a shootout take place. With a liability sitting right next to me. 

"What's going on?" She urged me, but I neglected her completely. 

The hooded figure was so distracted he didn't take any notice of the impending threat. The two members quickened their steps, Hoseok dawdling just a little more ahead of Yoongi.

Without warning, Hoseok skulked behind the body, his arms both wrapped tightly around the torso. It was like a kidnapping scene. He used his large hand to shield the man's mouth. The force of Hoseok's legs pulled them back as he was able to dominate him easily. Yoongi kept his eyes peeled for any potential bystanders as they stumbled their way against the wall of the motel. The wall cast a shadow and provided them with coverage from the view of the street. 

"Oh my god!" Blondie gasped in disbelief. 

She took a hold of my arm in panic. She pulled on my arms as if she wanted us to run. Her frenzy state pestered me greatly.

I yanked her hand from my arm, my fingers clutched around her wrist tightly. She heaved at the pain, I could feel her pulse quickening against my fingertips.

"You make a fucking noise," I hissed at her between my teeth. Her eyes remained full of fear as I pushed her from my hold. "It'll be your last,"

Her eyes followed my actions as I withdrew my Glock from its cover on my hip. She froze with fright, only continuing to remain silent in her place.

I guess I wasn't very good at being a good guy.

The next I looked back, Yoongi was holding the barrel of his gun against the guy's head. He was still fighting against Hoseok's restraint but he was becoming more frantic and less functional. Yoongi's lips were moving, saying words that were too far away for my ears.

Just then, as if things couldn't have been complicated enough; I noticed an oncoming party. Approaching from down the sidewalk was a large white man with a bald head. His arms revealed a clash of tattoos, the only one that I needed to make out was a black swastika peering out his shoulder. He also wasn't shy about the gun tucked in the front of his jeans. He appeared to be searching for his lost friend.

"Shit," I cursed to myself. I had to do something.

I took a moment to look back at blondie, making sure to be as intimidating as possible when I warned her. "Don't move from here,"

I took off immediately, my feet moving at a jogging pace. I attempted to not appear alarmed. I discreetly lead my gun to my side, trying to go unnoticed for the time being. I made it to the end of the parking lot, sitting between me and the sidewalk was a few bushes at waist level. 

Yoongi and Hoseok were preoccupied with the man in front of them to worry about their surroundings. 

The bald man was only a few steps away from reaching the corner, where he would surely find his buddy taken captive.

I moved closer toward the building, both parties coming more clear in my line of sight. If he makes it around that corner, he could catch them by surprise and gain an upper hand quickly. One of the boys could get injured for sure.

I had to follow my instincts. 

I leaned into the bushes for more security. They couldn't have been more than fifteen feet from me. I clutched the metal weight in my hand, raising my arms and seeking to find aim. 

Aim small, miss small. 

I concentrated on the man's shoulder. I took in a deep breath to steady my hands. He was getting bigger with each step. When I exhaled the breath from my nostrils, I pulled the trigger. 

The gunshot rang through the open air and into my ear. Blondie's scream echoed somewhere behind me. The man stumbled on his legs, he clutched his right bicep and his face tore with shock.

Yoongi found me by the bushes. He quickly recognized that my target wasn't far from them. 

My victim quickly discovered me at the end of the sidewalk. He reached for his firearm, but at that moment, Yoongi stepped out of the shadow. He pulled two quick shots before the man could ever hold up his gun. 

He tumbled onto the floor, his legs giving out at the bullet that pierced his foot. The second one ripped through the flesh of his arm and caused his gun to fall from his grip. 

I ran up behind Yoongi, I kept my gun drawn and pointed at the fallen form. With my foot, I stretched for the dropped pistol, dragging it across the cement into my area of reach. I was able to pick it up with ease after that. 

The bald man stared at me with hate emitting from his eyes. He spit at my feet.

I noticed Yoongi's eyes on me, as well. It was almost as if he was conflicted by my actions. With a nod of my head, I assured him that I had their back. Whether he believed me or not, he returned to the current situation.

Hoseok remained holding down the other guy who, was still yelling through his muzzled mouth. His face was red and his eyes were watering with anger and fear. Hoseok released his mouth after the bastard threw a bite at his hand.

Yoongi had enough.

He pushed his hair out of his forehead and, in that same step, hurled his fist to the guy's jaw. Yoongi growled at the impact. He left the man silent in Hoseok's arms. His nose was dripping blood, a gash on his cheek also overflowed with the red liquid. 

"Tell me where the PB is cooking the meth!" Yoongi demanded.

He cocked his gun and pressed the pistol against the fabric that covered the man's genitals. The man cried, he begged Yoongi to not pull the trigger.

"Now, you son of a bitch!"

Hearing it was hard enough, I couldn't watch it.

"I-In Blackburn! In Blackburn!" He ratted instantly.

My stomach churned at his answer. I looked at the scene unfolding beside me. I could see Hoseok and Yoongi were as startled as I was.

"They've got a lab down Riverside road! I-It's an ugly little red house- you can't miss it!"

Yoongi freed the man's crotch from gunpoint as Hoseok shoved him onto the floor. Hoseok stepped around the man's body and came directly to my side. I maintained my aim on the other guy, who was still sitting on the floor, blood oozing out of three different wounds. 

Hoseok rested his hand on my shoulder, gently guiding my arm to lower my gun.  

"Let's get out of here, angel." He whispered sweetly. 

His words somehow managed to ease the knots of tension in my chest. I took a breath of relief and handed him the extra gun I had confiscated. Hoseok smiled at me and tucked the gun away from my sight. He then put his hand on my back, escorting me back the way we came from. 

We had no problem turning our backs to them. They were both disarmed, one was bleeding out, and the other was frightened beyond recognition. There was no need to stick around for the police to show up. If those two guys were smart, they would find a way out of here before they came. The Blackburn policemen would know what happened to them and why.

Yoongi followed right behind us. I could hear his footsteps on the pavement as we strolled toward our bikes. From where we were, I could see blondie was still sitting on Hoseok's Harley.

Except, she appeared to be making a phone call.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I groaned. Hoseok noticed my gaze and soon saw the same thing I did. She saw us walking in her direction and quickly hung up the phone. 

She looked frightened when we finally approached her. She swung her leg over the bike, getting off on the opposite side of us. As if the Harley would keep us from getting to her. I allowed Hoseok to handle her. 

"Sorry about that, angel," Hoseok's voice was something dangerous. He leaned his hand on the handle of the bike and smiled. "Who was that?"

"M-My boyfriend," She stuttered, trying to not buy into his enchanting smile, not after what she just witnessed. "He's coming to pick me up."

"Good," I muttered. I locked eyes with her for just a moment while I passed by to pick up my shopping backs. I imagined I had traumatized her enough for one day.

"That's too bad you've got to go," I could hear the suggestiveness in Hoseok's voice. 

I walked past Yoongi's bike to my own. I had never been so happy to mount my Harley. The way the engine roared when I turned the gas made me shiver with delight. I walked the bike backward, turning slowly to line up beside Yoongi's. Who was taking advantage of Hoseok's flirting to light up another cigarette.

I followed in his thought and tried to locate the same pack from earlier. 

"I didn't expect you to step in like that," Yoongi suddenly muttered as he stood next to his bike. 

I took the smoke between my two fingers, putting the pack back on my jacket pocket. I held it between my lips and fiddled with my lighter. 

"You didn't think I was trying to arrest you?" I mocked. 

I flicked the lighter a few times, a flame igniting out of the chamber. I held the frame between my palms and used my fingers as a shield from the wind.  

"I'm trying to thank you, here, princess." He sighed.

I smiled and brought the fire to the end of my cigarette. I sucked in the burning tobacco, quickly flicking the lighter shut. 

"Go ahead," I smirked as I held the smoke in my lungs. 

I could tell Yoongi didn't do this very often. His brown eyes glared at me from underneath his black lashes. 

"Oh, forget it." He hissed, inhaling another drag.

Yoongi held his cigarette between his lips and turned his back to me. He mounted his own bike and called out to Hoseok. "Let's go already!"

Hoseok seemed to be working his magic on blondie all over again. He was still leaning on his bike, and she had taken a few paces closer to him. She wasn't scared anymore.

If it wasn't for the obnoxious speed bike coming down the road, Hoseok would have probably been able to convince her back to his place. The black and green bike came to a screeching stop. His face was covered by a full style helmet, so we weren't able to see the aftermath of his humbling experience. 

Hoseok stood up straight, a smirk jeering onto his lips as he viewed the new arrival. Blondie looked over her shoulder and gave Hoseok a sympathetic look. She didn't want to leave now. 

Hoseok grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips. He sent her away, drifting on a cloud. 

Blondie slipped on her matching helmet, before mounting his motorcycle. 

"Ready?" Yoongi asked sarcastically. 

Hoseok's smirk remained on his face as he climbed on his bike. He was just on time as we began to hear police sirens off in the distance. 

"Ready," He replied. 

-

We had made it to the lot of the House of Cards without any trouble. The other handful of Harley's left in the front indicated a full house inside. Standing along the wall of the entrance, Taehyung held a conversation with Yeonjun as he smoked. 

I followed the boys in parking alongside the other bikes. Removing my open-face helmet from my head, I relieved myself of the pressure of its protection. 

"Prospect!" Yoongi called from his place, on his Harley, beside me. 

I set my kickstand down, resting on my bike as I watched Yeonjun leave Taehyung's side. He was wearing his prospect cut over a dark blue flannel, his feet moved quickly, down the open lot. Taehyung remained against the wall, finishing his cigarette alone. 

Once Yeonjun presented himself in front of us, he took a moment to acknowledge me with a smile. Before Yoongi demanded his attention,

"Listen closely," He said, also removing his helmet and slumping in his seat. "You're going to take (Y/n)'s bags, go to the motel on 15th street and check her out."

It made sense that I couldn't stay there after the disturbance. If what the man said was true, it meant that the PB was already taking action against the club. Blackburn wasn't safe anymore. 

"Grab all her things and bring them back here." 

Yeonjun nodded his head in understanding. Both his hands reached down to feel around in his front pocket. From his right one, he pulled out keys to his Harley. 

"Woah!" Taehyung came up behind the young prospect. He reached around him and snatched the keys from his hands. "Who said you can take your Harley?" 

Taehyung stuffed the keys into his pocket and wore a grin while his lips still held his cigarette. 

"Oh come on, Tae," Yeonjun attempted to not sound too annoyed. He sighed, " It'll be easier if I-"

"I bought you a brand new bike, Yeonjun." Taehyung's voice was teasing. "Don't be ungrateful." 

Taehyung took the smoke from his mouth and watched the poor boy give up. I could hear Hoseok chuckle from the other side of Yoongi. I was questioning what they had him doing this time. 

Yeonjun left without another word. He walked toward the back of the bar, I lost sight of him as he disappeared around the corner. Taehyung was left with a permanent grin on his mug. He then turned his attention to the three of us that remained on our bikes. 

"Where are you all coming from?" He asked. We were an odd combination to anyone who saw us.

"We ran into some trouble while shopping," Hoseok replied. He set his helmet on the seat of his bike as he rose from it. "And we picked her up on the way." 

"Lucky me," I quietly joked. 

"What kind of trouble?" Taehyung seemed to be more interested in that. 

Hoseok sighed as he removed his leather gloves. He stuffed them into his front pocket and slowly advanced toward his friend. 

"The kind that we should bring up at church," Yoongi replied. 

Hoseok slipped his arms around Taehyung's shoulder and reassured the gravity of Yoongi's words with his slow head bob. His brows furrowed as he adjusted the bandana that was holding his hair back. 

"Everyone's here now," Taehyung informed him. "I'll let Joon know to call a meeting." 

Yoongi joined the rest of the boys in standing. I was the only one who remained mounting my Harley. 

There was no doubt in my mind that they were going to discuss forms of retaliation. With the new information, it would have to be something powerful. It was going to be a declaration of strength. It was already long overdue. 

"Check it out," Hoseok suddenly called. He was laughing as his eyes were staring down the back of the bar. 

My mouth dropped as I finally got a glimpse of what he was referring too. Literally, on a brand new bicycle, Yeonjun came pedaling down the sidewalk. It was painted black, with rainbow streamers and a gold horn. Yeonjun looked miserable wearing a matching rainbow helmet.

My soft giggle was masked by the loud laughter of Hoseok and Taehyung. They were barely breathing in between the enormous amounts of joy. Even Yoongi failed to conceal the smile on his face as he shook his head in disapproval. 

Yeonjun had no other choice but to accept his cruel fate. 

He came into the parking lot. He stood on his bicycle right beside me, staring at his laughing elders. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him my most honest look of compassion.

"I'll take your bags now, (Y/n)." The bitterness in his voice was adorable. 

"Thanks, hun." I handed him the shopping bags. "All of my things should be in a backpack on the floor."

He pushed the bags up his arm so that they rested in the crook of his elbow. I also pulled out and handed him my room keys, making sure to give him the money to pay for my short time there. 

"Be careful prospect," Hoseok said. He sounded sincere at the beginning of his statement. But he ultimately couldn't hold back his urge to make jokes. "Don't get a speeding ticket." 

Taehyung broke out laughing all over again. His arms came hurling at his crime partner. The actual image of Hoseok's words killed him. I had never seen them laugh so hard. They looked like a pair of schoolboys. 

"Yeah, yeah," Yoenjun muttered. 

He took off, down the parking lot exit without saying goodbye. Hoseok and Taehyung continued to tease him even as he rode off. They yelled out a combination of mockeries and whistles. 

"Come on!" Taehyung cheered. "Honk your horn for us!"

A distant sound of honking down the street melted my heart. It sent the two boys into another giggling frenzy. One that continued as they turned to walk toward the entrance. Only through the doors is that it finally dissipated from my ears.

Yoongi and I were the only ones who remained. Like me, he watched the pair wander off into their own world.  

"Idiots," Yoongi muttered to himself. 

I was amused by his criticism since he participated in their laughter just moments ago. Yoongi slowly turned my way. His eyes noticed that I had failed to make any sudden movements. 

"You coming in, princess?" He questioned. I tried to accept the new nickname but continued to not endorse it.

"I will," I said, reaching for the whereabouts of my phone. I held it up for him to acknowledge. "I'm just going to look for a new place to stay,"

He didn't need any other form convincing than that. He gave me a single nod and retreated to follow the boys inside. I watched his slim figure walk down to the entrance. He must have sensed my eyes because he looked back before opening the doors. All I could do was send him a wave and a barely visible smile.

I needed to be alone to make this phone call.  

I pressed the phone to my ear and hunched over the fuel tank of my Harley. The ringing made me anxious as I coped to remain calm after everything.

"Yes, Ms. (Y/n), I've just received your final paperwork. You'll be happy to know, the agency has agreed to all your terms just as long-" I had to cut him off. 

"That's going to have to be activated as of right now because I have something," I still kept aware of my surroundings, making sure my voice wasn’t too loud.

I looked out for anyone, even just bystanders on the street.

"What did you find out?" His voice asked instantly.

"They have a possible chance for retaliation, with location and everything," I muttered into the phone, still trying to remain vague for several reasons. 

"Listen, (Y/n), we need to be there when they make their choice. Stay on the club- when they move, so do we." He spoke to me sternly. His voice wasn't comforting at all. "Do you understand?"

Bangtan's next moves would decide the future of this club. Their alliance with the PB was beneficial. Did they have the necessary tools to cut that deal on their own? Or were they going to turn to Camilo for help?

I sighed.

"Yes,"

Masterlist ≽

[xfpurebloodaesthetics]

Mending the Break pt1

AU where Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges at the Wizengamot after the war, while Narcissa and Lucius are sentenced to house arrest for several years. He sees his mother, scarred and tired but determined. He sees his father, pale and barely a shadow of who he used to be, now having to use his cane as a means of mobility instead of a flashy ornament of wealth. He’s numb, barely hearing some of the boos and protests of the witnesses in the crowd, standing when gestured to do so, and following the Auror guards from the atrium, glancing to the side to only see Harry Potter nearby. The same Harry Potter who spoke in the Malfoys’ defense, one of the few who did so, looking older and wearier, scruffy almost, but green eyes still blazing with justice.

They say nothing. Only a moment passes, when they make eye contact. And then Draco turns away, and that is the end of it.

Within the Malfoy Manor, he’s haunted by everything he sees, haunted by the echoing screams of the poor souls who lost their lives within these very walls. So many innocent people, dead; men, women and children, oh god, the children will haunt him the most. Mere playthings for the Death Eaters, who broke their bones like it was a funny game; playthings for Bellatrix, who relished in their screams and pleas for mercy; playthings for Greyback, who bathed in their blood.

There is not one spot, he thinks, that hasn’t been touched by the cruelty of the war.

Until he finds it. One door that he has been aware of since he was a child, one he had been gently steered away and kept from, until it became instinct to avoid this door, though he has never, in all of his life, understood why. Today, he finds this door, and he discovers that it is unlocked. A Slytherin has plenty of curiosity, though it is rarely acted upon. Today, he acts upon it.

Beyond the door is a small study, like a shrine to the Black family on Narcissa’s side. He sees pictures of his maternal grandparents, so stiff and formal in their older clothes, their hard eyes, the set way about their jaws. He sees old family pictures of the Black sisters as they aged, though he avoided looking too closely at Bellatrix, who has a portrait hanging on a nearby wall. She’s twenty two in it, frozen forever in youth and haughty beauty, and her sneer nearly sends Draco into a panic attack. He has no regrets about grabbing a nearby sheet to throw over her face, to hide her from view, and only then does he find the chest.

It is quite an old chest, one that once held a charm that helped it blend into it’s surroundings, faded with time, and with an easily broken lock. Within the velvet interior are hundreds upon hundreds of letters to Andromeda, the one family member he never got to meet. He knows nothing of her, except that she married a Muggleborn man -- her husband, Ted Tonks, who died -- and thus was disowned as a result. Seeing all of these letters intrigues him, and when Draco digs into them, he finds that each of them were addressed and written by Narcissa, her graceful elegant scrawl as easily recognizable as his own name. 

Within these letters, sitting on the plush carpeted floor, Draco discovers that Narcissa never hated Andromeda. She rather admired her older sister, who married for love rather than wealth or power or alliances. Who was beautiful in a way that Bellatrix was not, soft in the ways that counted, and ever so effortlessly kind. How much Narcissa had missed her sister, how she wished to have her by her side again.

She also wrote about Draco, from the very night he was born -- ‘He has the most beautiful silver eyes, Andy, and the palest hair of pure snow. The Draco constellation shined the brightest tonight; I shall name him after such a worthy contender’ -- to even of his accomplishments during his life, from his first steps, to his first words, to the time he rode a broom by himself, to being Sorted into Slytherin. 

The letters trail off when Draco had to have been around fifteen, right before Voldemort returned, in fact. And he realizes why; if Voldemort had known, or if Bellatrix had suspected, then Narcissa would never have survived this war. Having love for a disgraced sibling was the same as treason in their eyes. 

The ideology broke apart so many families. And there was no hope of ever fixing what had been shattered.

Unless...

It is nearly six months before Draco works up the courage, to find Andromeda’s house. It’s a private, cozy looking dwelling, and he’s sweating so much he feels like he might melt into a puddle in the grass. But he steers himself, and walks to the front door, hesitating for a good long five minutes before he risks knocking.

Andromeda’s appearance is so similar to Bellatrix that he has to do a double take, but it is no doubt it is her. She’s much softer, much older now, and far prettier, than Bellatrix had ever been after Azkaban. And she is startled to see him, obviously with the knowledge of who he is, and suddenly Draco isn’t sure if this is a good idea.

“I... I know this is a shock,” he says, his voice brittle, quiet, subdued. “And I understand if you don’t ever want to see me again. But... I’ve brought letters. From my mother.”

“Letters?” Andromeda is surprised further. “We’ve had no contact since I married Ted.”

“Well, she wrote them, but she never sent them. She misses you a great deal, though she never says anything.” With shaky fingers, he pulls out the letters he had sifted through and selected as the most important, the ones he felt that she might appreciate. “You don’t have to take them, I just... I guess I thought...”

There’s a moment of silence, before her hand reaches out, and he flinches instinctively, prepared for a strike, for a hard blow. Her eyes pinch with pain, and her hand is warm against his face, so exceedingly gentle that it nearly takes his breath away.

“Would you like to come inside for tea?” she asks, and it feels like something in his chest loosens.

“I would like that very much.”

What starts out as a five minute meeting ends up lasting for several hours. Andromeda reads the letters as Draco sits with tea he can barely touch. She tells him stories, of her youth, of Narcissa when she was young and lovely and carefree, of a world where they thought things could be alright together. She introduces him to little Teddy Lupin, who’s hair turns a bright platinum blond to match his own, and Draco finally cries.

It’s been months since he’s cried.

The apologies come pouring out. Andromeda cries as well, but she promises him that she wishes Draco no ill will. “You were a child,” she says, “in the very heart of the storm. You shouldn’t be blamed for our ancestor’s mistakes.”

“I wanted to leave,” Draco admits to her. “I was questioning everything for years. I was too cowardly to fight. I’ll never forgive myself, for everything.”

“You must,” Andromeda replies, grasping his hands tightly in hers. “If you wish to heal, then you must begin by forgiving yourself.”

It’s the first time that Draco has ever felt safe with anyone, that he regrets it when it’s time to leave. After spending the day with Andromeda, learning of her, learning from her, bonding with little Teddy, he’s almost bitter, that he had been robbed of this. He will never know Nymphadora. He will never get the chance to beg forgiveness from Lupin. But through his relatives, perhaps he can finally mend the fracture between his families.

Perhaps this was what Draco was meant to do.

~End of Part 1