#Rose's poke adventures

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[nobully]

❛ is that blood? is it yours? ❜ ( she's ready to beat someone's ASS )

𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

Ah, geez.

He knew he should've cleaned up first before running to find Nicolette. But this was important so he hadn't bothered beyond wrapping his arm and hand in makeshift bandages. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him hurt anyways, so Wang Yi didn't get what was the big deal, or why she was cradling his bloody hand like some fragile porcelain vase.

'That doesn't matter—will you stop asking me questio—ouch, hey!'

Okay, forget about cradling—she was definitely squeezing him now, right where he got stabbed and getting her perfect nails bloodied in the process—

'Don't touch that, I mean it—OW!'

'Nicolette, it hurts!'

"You're damn right it does, Yiyi."

Wang Yi finally loses momentum and collapses backwards in a chair, body shuddering in pain as his left arm spasms in Nicolette's grip. She doesn't let up though, still holding on tight as she inspects him for more damage.

'W-what t-the f-f-fuck...?!'

"I should be asking you that!" The painful pressure on his palm disappears, to be replaced by the tightened embrace of fabric as she expertly re-bandages him again. "You come into my house asking to talk while bleeding all over my floors? Have you lost your damned mind?"

'I-it's not like they're c-carpet—'

"Someone almost sliced your fucking pinky off, Wang Yi!" She doesn't actually pinch that, but just brushing past the injured digit is enough to make him hiss in pain.

'I m-mean, I have n-n-nine others.' Besides, you barely needed a pinky, right? He could make do or whatever.

"You—" She almost looks like she wants to slap him, but settles for another curse instead. "—absolute, fucking idiot! Who hurt you? What the hell have you been up to?!"

'I t-told you...to...l-listen,' Wang Yi grits his teeth and snarls back. Shit, he feels more lightheaded than he likes. 'C-Cotes, the U-Underside. I-it's the—' He pulls her down and stammers an address into her ear, teeth chattering with a mix of pain and adrenaline that feels oddly nostalgic. When she gives him a dawning look of realization, Wang Yi laughs and almost chokes on air.

'H-haha...I, found t-them...'

It took him months, but finally, finally he got a lead to the jerks who tried to drown them both. Although he was discovered and his phone broken in the scuffle to sneak away, he did end up brainwashing the guys in that room to stay put while he found Nicolette for backup.

'Y-you have, l-less than f-fifteen, minutes...' Before the limit for his abilities were up. 'I c-couldn't buy more t-time...'

'S-sorry about t...that...'

He didn't even find the main headquarters, so it'd be best if they could grab some guys and interrogate him about the rest. Too bad Wang Yi wasn't strong enough to hold them all in thrall and brainwash answers at the same time. But he's sure Nicolette can think of something, bloody weapons and all.

He vaguely hears her cursing up another storm before she grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to look into her eyes.

"Wang Yi. Wang Yi!"

Man, she must be seriously pissed if she's just using his full name.

'W...hat...'

"I'm going, but I called an ambulance. You need to stay conscious until they get here, understand?"

'I'm not...' That badly off, he wants to explain. He's sure he's stemmed most of the blood loss and if he's tired, it's from using his powers more than anything else. A nap would probably help him...

"It's not a request! Stay awake!"

'O-okay, f-fine...'

Her scowl looks anything but satisfied, but Nicolette has to leave now, so all he hears next is the front door slamming behind her as she runs out of the house.

He hopes she gives them hell.

It's a lot quieter without her here though, and Wang Yi has to struggle to stay alert. He tries focusing on the pain first, but that's numbed over time, as well as the rest of his senses. Everything feels muted and it doesn't help that his fingertips and toes are so, so cold.

He could realllly use a blanket and a hot drink too but 1) it takes too much effort to move and 2) he'll get Nicolette's house more bloody if he moves around. Better to sit here and wait...

And wait...

And wait.

He's so still when the paramedics show up to move him onto a stretcher that he startles the first EMT to approach him when lifting his head.

'I'm awake,' he announces blandly.

Wang Yi feels almost insulted when they drug him unconscious a minute later.

***

"And why didn't you just call from a pay phone?" Nicolette demands while judiciously attacking some apples with a blood dagger two days later.

'I didn't know your number...' Wang Yi trails off awkwardly from the hospital bed. He's thrown a cell phone seconds later—his own, magically repaired by the city—and greeted with another one of Nicolette's scowls as it bounces off his chest.

"Then you better memorize it for next time," she threatens.

'Next time?'

"Shut up. I'm quizzing you in fifteen minutes."

'I'm a patient!' Wang Yi sputters as he raises his bandaged limb. Luckily nothing's been broken, but his left hand will be out of commission for a bit while the injuries heal.

"You're on probation," she huffs back instead. "Friend status frozen, nickname privileges revoked. Until you figure out how to shield your own ass."

'Wow, so cold...' Wang Yi mutters. 'You can keep your nicknames, though. I don't mind.'

"You fucking jerk."

'Yeah, that won't work. Doesn't quite ring the same when you call other guys the same thing.'

This time Nicolette almost throws the whole plate of apple slices at him, but stops herself. Instead, she picks two up and stuffs them straight into Wang Yi's mouth. His eyes flicker between them and Nicolette's hand as he mumbles in a muffled voice, 'Ken I eet dis?'

She rolls her eyes. "Just because I sliced them with blood doesn't mean I got blood on them." What does he think she is, some kind of amateur?

'I mean,' Wang Yi swallows between bites, 'I guess I've always wanted to try it.'

"What?"

'Mm, your blood?'

She pauses to stare at him. He's still munching on her apples, unperturbed. I say this a lot but, "You're so fucking weird, Wang Yi."

'I know,' he agrees openly this time. 'It's kinda nice admitting it, though?'

He's suddenly so normal about it all that she's the one who feels off for finding him odd. That thought evaporates soon enough when he asks his next question.

'So what did you do with them?'

Her fingertips burn at the memory. "Who knows? Maybe I killed them all?"

'Did you really?'

She arches a brow. "What, you think I can't?"

'I figured it'd be more hassle if we left dead bodies behind,' Wang Yi replies instead. 'We don't actually know how big the organization is. Wouldn't it be a pain to fight them off all the time because they wanted revenge or some crap like that? Also, I'd actually die if they tried.'

"Then what would you do?"

'Ehh...wait until we get high enough in the chain of command to figure out who's behind this mess? Then I brainwash the boss and have them...sort it out amongst themselves.'

"Really, Yiyi? So you're the type for inside jobs?"

'Don't call it funny names. And didn't you say you weren't using nicknames?'

"I can't help it when you're acting cute? And it's not a 'funny name,' it's literally the term for getting your enemies to screw themselves over?'

Wang Yi coughs and decides to ignore the cute comment for now.

'I don't know anything about stuff like that.' Experiences in novel worlds don't count.

"Oh my god, you suck at denials." Nicolette rolls her eyes.

Wang Yi just makes a face. 'Whatever. Give me more apples.'

"No wait, what's my number?"

'Seriously?'

"Seriously your ass, it's been 15 minutes."

'I haven't even turned on my phone!'

"Well you better in the next 10 seconds."

***

'By the way, what are we telling Zhilan this time?'

"What's your idea?"

'I mean, you were pretty fast about spilling the beans last time?'

"So? Your turn this round." Nicolette feels she doesn't need to point out that there's a difference in a spat between friends versus an attempted revenge mission against seedy Cotes underground gangs.

'What if I say I had an accident doing home improvement...'

"Like what, you drilled a hole through your hand?"

'Or maybe an accident while juggling knives?'

"Since when were you joining the circus?"

'Or maybe I'm just sick with a fever,' Wang Yi finishes lamely. 'And it's contagious so I'm keeping myself quarantined.'

"He's going to come to your doorstep with soup for that, Wangy. You are not getting Zhilan's food for free."

'I mean, I could share...'

"And make Lanlan worry enough to cook for nothing? No, rejected."

'Hey, it's not for nothing. I can't cook one-handed either?'

"Still no. God, Wang Yi, aren't you supposed to be good at lying?"

'Yeah well, I get out of practice when I'm with you.'

Nicolette blinks for a second, surprised. She looks at Wang Yi, who's now rubbing his chin while munching on the last apple and deep in thought. "What do you mean by—"

'Got it!' Wang Yi exclaims a second later. 'Cotes has these freaky forests nearby or something, right? I'll say I wandered into one out of curiosity and got attacked by a wild animal until you saved me—hey, you listening? Does it work?' He narrows his eyes. '...why are you glaring at me?'

"Because you're an idiot," Nicolette hisses back, and already her jumbled emotions are folding up amongst themselves to the familiar form of rage. "What kind of animal just attacks your hand and misses your face? You're better off saying you stabbed yourself on a branch or tripped over a rock!"

'Maybe I had like, a really tasty snack in my hand and they went for that—'

"What, so you were snacking on beef jerky in the woods?"

'I mean, would beef jerky work? It's more realistic than carrying around a slab of raw meat, right?'

Nicolette purses her lips. She only thought of that because of Topper, but she's not exactly an expert in luring wild beasts. Speaking of which— "Do you even know what kind of animals live in Cotes?"

'No, do you?'

"No, but Lanlan might and he'll call you out on that? Aren't you supposed to—I don't know—do your fucking research before you make up this shit?"

'Well, we need to be on the same page before I start, right?' Though Wang Yi's flipping through his phone already, bringing up the Spirale search engine so he can actually look stuff up.

Nicolette wants to smack him. But they're in a hospital, so she does the civilized thing and takes the phone out of his hands.

"I'm revoking your phone privileges."

'What the hell?' He looks up at her, eyes swirling with genuine incredulity. 'Why?!'

"Because you're a patient who should limit his screen time?"

'You're not my doctor? Hey, give it back.' He grabs for it; she easily dangles it out of reach.

"Are we not going to talk about the main issue here?”

‘Like what?’

“Like how you decided to stick your head into a gangster den and nearly lost your hand?”

‘I mean, better a hand than my actual head, right—’

“Dammit Wang Yi, that’s not the point!”

‘I know, but talking about it isn’t going to change my mind, though?’

She glares at him; he has the audacity to shrug back. Wang Yi’s right about one thing, though: talking isn’t getting them anywhere.

Forget it. She slips his phone into her pocket, reopens the cut on her arm, and channels a brand new dagger from a stream of blood that forms into her grip. Wang Yi watches the process with fascination up to the moment she brings the blade to his face.

He goggles at her even as she presses the weapon against his cheek—it’s solid and sharp, but curiously kinetic, and overall unlike any knife he’s ever felt.

‘…yes?’ he tries.

“Didn’t you say you want to taste it?”

Green eyes lower slowly to the blade and back, before he hesitates. ‘I did, but—’ I was thinking in liquid form…?

“Or I could shove it down your throat now so you stop spewing out shitty excuses for every stupid thing you do?”

Ah, so she’s really angry this time. ‘Uh no need, this is fine actually…’

He can see the storm brewing behind her eyes like a bomb about to explode and quickly grabs her by the wrist.

‘I mean it!’ he blurts before a small pink tongue darts out to lick the flat of her blade.

Oh, that feels really uncanny. But he didn’t really taste anything, though?

He’s about to try a second time when she wrests her hand free, shoves him back against the pillow, and drags the covers over his chest. Wang Yi doesn’t even catch Nicolette’s face, only a flash of gritted teeth and the blood dagger coalescing back into liquid as she stomps past him and towards the door.

‘Nicolette, what—’

“Go the fuck to bed!” she snaps at him.

Slam!

Once again the door shuts behind her and he’s left all alone. Wang Yi sighs.

Some days, he doesn’t get her at all.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Prematch

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The prematch routine

One day, before a match at home, Morsa gets up early to go to the market. She takes you with her because she woke up to you staring at her from your spot in the middle of the Big Bed.

Magda's not even sure how you snuck in without her noticing but it's enough to get you dressed and out the door before you can wake Pernille.

The market only really happens once a month so Magda always makes time to visit as she picks up various items that she can hoard until the next time it comes around.

You get a bit distracted by the crochet bees at one of the stalls and she has to hold your hand tightly to pull you away to the stall with all the flowers.

"Good morning, Magda," The old woman behind the table says, dipping her head in greeting.

"Morning." Magda pokes around at a few of bouquets.

It's a little embarrassing, she thinks, that she's here so often that the woman running the stall knows her name.

"And who is this delightful little lady?"

Magda rests a hand on your shoulder proudly. "My daughter, y/n."

"Oh, she's beautiful," The lady says with a coo and your cheeks go a little red and you duck to hide behind Magda's legs. "What were you thinking of today?"

"Roses," Magda replies," Pernille's still in bed so we're going to surprise her."

"Wonderful choice."

The woman picks up several deep red roses and spins them together as you watch.

"Morsa," You say," Why are we getting flowers for Momma?"

"Well," Morsa replies," When we really like someone, we give them flowers to show our affection. I really love your Momma so I want to get her some flowers to remind her."

That makes you think for a moment, brow furrowed as you ponder. "Morsa," You say eventually," Do only girlfriends give each other flowers? Or do friends do it too?"

"You can give flowers to friends. We got sent a lot of flowers when you were born."

You don't remember that because you were very little then but you believe Morsa. You tug at her shirt.

"Can I give Jessie flowers? Because she's one of my bestest friends and I want her to know."

"Well, princesse-"

"Here you are, Magda."

Morsa has to stop talking to grab the flowers and pay.

You huff a little, scuffing your shoes in the dirt at the non-response.

"And for the little lady to give to her friend."

You look up to see the woman smiling down at you, holding a second bouquet of flowers to you.

"Thank you," You say as you take them.

"Now," The woman says," These flowers here are yellow roses and they mean friendship and happiness. The pink ones a tulips. Now pink tulips are for affection and good wishes. Perfect for a friend."

"Thank you," You say again, adjusting your grip so you're holding them more carefully.

"No need to pay for those ones," The woman waves off Morsa's attempts," You just make sure the little lady gives them to her friend."

You make Morsa walk carefully back to the house to make sure that Jessie's flowers don't get crumpled. You think that annoys her a little bit but she's very nice about it even if it means Momma's already awake when you get back.

She takes the flowers from Morsa and accepts the soft kisses she's given.

"These ones are for Jessie," You say when she asks," We have to be careful with them, okay? Because they're special flowers just for her."

"Okay, princesse," Momma laughs," We'll be careful."

You remind Morsa how careful she has to be in the car when she goes a bit faster than you'd like and then when she holds the flowers a bit too tight when Momma's helping you out.

The silly social media man is waiting outside for you.

You give him a weird look as he holds something out for you. You take it, turning it over in your hand.

"It's a camera," He says.

"Why?"

"Well, we thought it would be fun if the fans got to see everything from your view."

You lift the camera up to your eye for a moment before smooshing it towards the flowers. "I'm giving flowers to Jessie," You say," Because she's my friend." You look at the social media man. "Like that?"

He nods with a laugh. "The others are out on the pitch if you want to join them."

You look at Momma and Morsa.

"Go on," Momma says.

You scamper off with your flowers and the camera.

"Niamh!" You exclaim when you fast walk down the tunnel and spot the older girl.

She's walking with Zećira and they both turn to look at you. You're not quite running because you don't want to ruin the flowers but you're moving quickly.

"What's that you've got there?" Niamh asks.

"A camera," You say, turning it so it can capture Niamh and Zećira.

Zećira laughs. "I think she means the flowers."

"Oh! They're for Jessie! Morsa got Momma flowers at the market this morning so I got some for Jessie."

Niamh's laughing now too and she leans down to look into the camera.

"Well, as you can all see, love is in the air at Chelsea."

That makes you frown. "What does that mean? Momma and Morsa are still inside."

"Don't worry about it. Here, I'll take the camera and then everyone can see Jessie getting her flowers."

"Okay!"

You move a bit quicker now that you can use both hands to hold your gift safely. Jessie's a little bit up ahead with her headphones in and you reach to tug her hand.

She smiles down at you and gives you a hug.

"Those are pretty flowers. Did Magda and Pernille get them for you?"

You shake your head. "I got them for you." You puff out your chest. "The market lady said they're for friendship and affection. We're friends and we hug. Hugging is affection, Momma says so."

You lift the flowers up to her.

Jessie looks a little caught of guard and you can hear snickering from Niamh and Zećira behind you. You don't pay them any attention though as Jessie takes the flowers and gives you a little kiss on the cheek.

You take one of her hands and receive the camera back in your other one.

Instantly, you're back to talking to it.

"You have to walk the pitch to make sure it's good," You say," But Niamh is always very silly. My Morsa says she only comes out here to socialise and so she can avoid being told what to do."

"Hey!"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

As the man comes toward you, you can’t react. He grabs your jacket, splitting the zipper, and rips it down your arms. You whimper as he strips the fabric away and lets it drop. His hand recoils to his belt and he unsheathes a long hunting knife. You take a step back and he catches back of your head and tuts as he closes in once more. 

He fists your hair in his hand and tugs until you tilt your head back. He pokes the tip of the knife against your chin and drags it down your neck. You quiver as his eyes blaze down at you. His pupils dilate as his gaze falls to the blade and turns it in his grip. He hooks the slightly curved point under your shirt and rents through your shirt. 

He slices so easily through the fabric that it leaves you breathless. You don’t move, terrified of being gashed. He cuts up your bra in quick succession, then your jeans, and your panties, leaving you only in your beat-up sneakers and socks. You’d feel ridiculous if you weren’t so scared. 

He stands straight and raises the knife, showing it to you in a silent threat. He twirls it and slides it back into the sheath on his belt. He looks down as you try to cover yourself with your hands. You shift on your feet and slowly bend to untie your shoes. 

He turns away. You peek up as he goes to the wall and pulls a framed painting, opening the hidden compartment behind. He takes the pistol from his belt and puts it away. He unstraps the harness from around his chest and another blade from his leg. He reveals a few more weapons from under his clothing before he shuts the door; gears whirring to lock it in place. 

Even without a blade, he’s dangerous. You know that much. That he disarmed himself shows that he’s just as aware of the imbalance. You slip free of your shoes and socks and stand, a hand over your pelvis and an arm over your chest. You gulp and search the room helplessly. 

He nears and grabs you by the back of your neck. He marches you across the room and through another door. Within, a bathroom is lit by the flip of a switch. He shoves you towards the tub and reaches to crank on the faucet. The scour of water makes you wince. 

He snaps his finger and points inside. You step over the porcelain wall and he yanks the curtain shut between you. You shiver even as the water steams hotly and pours over you. 

The heat should feel nice but you only shake as it spatters down. You look around. You take the fresh bar of soap and scrub yourself. It smells like rose and vanilla. You set it back in the dish and rinse the lather. 

You glance over. His shadow is gone. You inch towards the curtain and peer around it nervously. He’s not there. 

You retreat and face the showerhead. You turn off the faucet as the water only agitates your skin. You stand shivering, arms crossed, waiting. 

The door clicks open and he stomps back in. He tears back the curtain and shoves a towel against you. You hug it. 

“Thank you,” you look up into his scarred face. “Sir, why...” 

He lifts a single finger and pushes it against your lips. He shakes his head. You close your mouth and unfold the towel. He pulls his hand back as his eyes drift again to your body. You’re self-conscious as you fumble to hide yourself behind the towel. 

He grabs your arm and drags you out of the tub. He takes you out of the bathroom, back into the front room, and through yet another doorway. It’s a bedroom. It’s lit by a ceiling light, dimmed to amber, and a bed stands, draped in grey plaid flannel. 

He points again and let you go. You go to the bed and stop at the foot. It’s then you notice the plain white night gown. You look over your shoulder. He dips his chin down. You turn back and reach for cotton. 

You trade the towel for the nightgown and the door slams. You turn. You’re alone. You sway on your feet and examine the room. The walls are dark wood, rippled with knots and rings. The decor is sparse. The bed, a tall armoire, a shelf in the corner. 

You near the shelf slowly, not sure you’re seeing what’s there. The wall above it is plastered with pictures. Of you. Of your apartment. Of the tea shop. Every aspect of your life documented. Below, the shelf is cluttered with various objects; your possessions. The brush you thought you dropped out of your bag and replaced, several tubes of lip balm but you never finish those, a bracelet you forgot about, and an old journal you thought was still in your closet. 

You back away. This man didn’t just find you, he’s been following you. For a long time. You retreat to the bed and sit on the end. Again, you’re paralysed in futility. 

He returns and you gasp as you look up. He has only a towel at his waist as he barges in. You cower with wide eyes as he walks to the shelf and sets down something in the small glass tray with your bracelet. Your shank of hair. You cover your mouth in horror. 

Is he going to kill you? He’s some deranged murdered and this is his kill room or some weird stuff like that. You stand and clutch the towel. 

“Please just tell me if you’re going to kill me. I’d like to know at least,” you say, quavering. 

His back tenses. Scars crisscross his muscles as they strain beneath the skin. He pushes his head back before he faces you. His expression says nothing. He comes to you, stopping just in front of you. 

He grabs you by the neck and you tense. You try to prepare yourself for death but you won’t ever be ready. Your eyes well up and your heartbeat hammers in your chest. With his other hand, he strips away his towel. You yipe against his firm grip. 

He spreads his hand over the left side of your chest. You can feel your heart more clearly. His palm is hot like fire. You shakily reach to clasp onto his wrist, begging him with your eyes. Not to let you go, but for mercy. Make it quick. 

He squeezes your throat, not enough to block your breath, but enough to make you nervous. He lifts your neck and, without much effort, or care, hurls you back onto the bed. You splay over it as you exclaim and bite your tongue.  

What he intends to do, might be worse than death. 

[writingoddess1125]

hiii, could you do a Sanji x reader in which the reader has an eating disorder and Sanji's food is the only one that the reader eats and when Sanji discovers this he tries to take more care of the reader's diet?

(I love your writing, it's so good)

So this does hit very close to home for me and it both made me feel good and cry while writing this.

I did twist this a bit as well, but I hope it's still okay!

I also made this GN since this can happen to Anyone.

Warmth

⚠️Warning: ⚠️ Mention of ED, issues with food and body issues.

Please support me in Ko-Fi

"It's called Shio Ramen, it's a lighter form of ramen made with a much gentler broth. It's not as heavy as normal ramen and doesn't have as much oil" He said calmly, watching your eyes look over it.

You should have realized he had been watching you- from the very beginning you should have known that the Nosey Chef would catch onto you sooner rather then later.

You had always loved food, but you felt like it just.. didn't love you in return. Especially when it was used as a weapon by your loved ones.

From people pushing that 'You're just picky' or 'Just wanting to look a certain way' since you were young at your... aversions. It all starting with your family and the lack of control you felt over your life... it had been a way to control something- even if it was as small as food and how you wanted to look physically.

You had been on the brink of self destruction when the Strawhats arrived on your island home, of course their swirling of chaos following them-

Needing a Barber for their crew, so you jumped at the opportunity to join them; running away from the shackles of your home and the onces youd once called your family to new adventure and freedom.

However some shackles still remained..

It had some weeks, close to a month on board the Strawhat Ship before you even ate Sanji's food, passing your plate to Liffy who would eat it up or not showing up to meals at all-.

If you did he'd often making you bowls which you would take single spoonfuls of before not taking more- eating only when you were sure no one was around and what you had been used to, if you decided at all.

But as time passed, you did gradually eat more of his cooking- trusting him more as you wouldn't skin meal times or take single bites anymore, while it tasted good- you always felt that anxiety rise up eventually..

You should have known he would have seen this all.. noticed your actions and ways. Planning his next move-

Which took place on a sleepy late afternoon.

Sitting in your quarters you were trying to read a book Nami had let you borrow, but your mind just kept drifting off in a daze as you watched the sea pass you by- as well as the memories of the past invading and poking your mind.

A soft knock snapping you from your whirlpool of thoughts as you look up to see Sanji, calmly staring at you. His coat off and only in a button-down, his nice pants and freshly polished shoes a unlit cigarette placed perfectly on his lip as he smiled softly at you.

"Hey (Y/N)- follow me for a sec?" He asked, you of course nodding as you rose and followed behind your peer down the corner- being lead right to the kitchens.

Anxiety hitting your chest then as he motioned for you to seat on one of the island benches in the kitchen.

Sitting down you nervously look at the chef as he calmly walked around to the stoves on the otherside of the island countertop.

You assuming he was going to scold you for not eating or put you on blast...

"How do you like it on the ship so far?" He asked innocently as he began to grab a pot. There ge had you watch him as he cooked- You watched the ingredients he picked, how he washed his hands with every step asking what things were to your taste which he cleverly hid in casualy conversation...

It was actually fun to watch, the care and time he put into cooking and talking to you- Truthfully it had actually started to look delicious and smell good as well as you watched him pour a light broth over Fluffy noodles you'd watch him make by hand.

Not a word had to be said after that, Instead he sat next to you calmly with his own bowl and began to silently eat. Tears welling in your eyes as you grabbed the spoon and took a sip of the hot broth- Warmth filling your stomach and chest- finally that cold anxiety started to ease away as the soft flavors of the warm Shio Ramen filled your senses.. like a blanket beging placed over your shoulders... it was just what you needed... what you'd always needed.

"You want to try some?" He asked, getting a hesitant nod from you. He smiled softly, setting the already prepared bowl infront of you before making his own.

Sanji glanced at you and held out his handkerchief to you, At first confused before realizing salty tears were rolling down your cheeks. Accepting the gift you cleaned up your face and set back into eating, smiling softly to yourself as you did so.

It finally felt like... someone cared- And what more could you ask for?

Maybe a second helping?..

[danika-redgrave124]

Vice Dorm Leaders and Winx Yuu

Trey and Yuu

Trey appreciates Yuu’s calming influence and finds their magic fascinating, though he prefers to stick to practical matters.

He often offers baked goods during Yuu's visits to Heartslabyul, which Yuu enjoys. They bond over recipes and the beauty of crafting things with care. Yuu occasionally wonders if Trey can make something different with Astralis's ingredients.

Trey jokingly calls Yuu "the star of the show" whenever their magic dazzles the roses whenever Yuu comes to visit and help paint the roses even though the roses get colors of the galaxy than the typical red rose color.

Yuu admires Trey’s steady, supportive nature and sometimes teases him for being the “dad” of Heartslabyul.

Ruggie and Yuu

Ruggie is amazed by Yuu’s magical elegance but keeps his admiration under wraps, playfully poking fun at how “fancy” they are.

Yuu respects Ruggie’s resourcefulness and practicality, often defending him when others dismiss him as just sly or a thief

Ruggie finds ways to use Yuu’s magic for clever shortcuts or the occasional festivity.

Yuu sometimes gently encourages Ruggie to slow down and enjoy small pleasures instead of always hustling.

Jade and Yuu

Jade is deeply intrigued by Yuu’s celestial magic and often asks probing questions about its nature and origin.

Yuu finds Jade’s curiosity endearing but is careful about sharing too much, knowing he has a manipulative streak.

They share a love of exploring the unknown—Yuu loves stargazing, and Jade tells tales of the different moutain ranges and mushrooms, creating a fascinating contrast.

Jade enjoys subtly teasing Yuu about their “angelic” nature, but Yuu always counters with their dry wit, earning his respect.

Jamil and Yuu

Jamil initially sees Yuu’s celestial magic as too grand and flashy, which makes him wary. Over time, he grows to appreciate its beauty and precision.

Yuu is one of the few who consistently notices Jamil’s hard work and thanks him sincerely, which catches him off guard.

They bond over different cooking methods, with Yuu’s explaination of different meals on Astralis complementing Jamil’s more grounded approach to meals.

Jamil sometimes jokes that Yuu should “dial down the sparkle,” but deep down, he admires their confidence in their abilities.

Rook and Yuu

Rook is absolutely enchanted by Yuu, calling them a “shimmering masterpiece of the cosmos.” His poetic praises often leave Yuu either flustered or bemused.

He’s fascinated by their celestial aesthetic and compares them to stars, constellations, and the aurora borealis in ways that make even Yuu blush.

Rook frequently asks Yuu to join him on hunts, convinced their cosmic magic could guide him to even greater discoveries.

Yuu appreciates Rook’s enthusiasm but sometimes finds his intensity overwhelming. Still, they value his perspective on beauty and art.

Lilia and Yuu

Lilia finds Yuu’s celestial magic delightful and enjoys poking fun at how “radiant” they are compared to his darker aesthetic.

Yuu sees Lilia as a playful yet wise mentor figure, appreciating his ancient knowledge and mischievous humor.

They enjoy trading stories—Yuu shares myths from Astralis, while Lilia regales them with his ancient adventures.

Lilia often experiments with cooking “cosmic-themed” meals for Yuu, which they accept with a polite (and slightly wary) smile.

[cyborg-franky]

Please some Valentine's day dating headcanons for Law, Zoro and Kid 😍💕💘

Law x GN Reader Zoro x GN Reader Kid x GN Reader SFW

Law

He’s doing better at it.

He learned after the first time he handed you a real heart in a cube thinking it would be a sweet gesture until you fainted. Bepo had to explain why people don’t just go handing out human hearts.

Is one of those people who hate the heart shape, and can’t ever buy something for Valentine's without muttering under his breath that wasn’t what real hearts look like.

You are always surprised at how meticulous his skills with a scalpel are when he does make you a card that’s anatomically correct. It’s impressive and scary in equal measure.

Law is sweet in his own way like that. Buys you a vase that looks like a real heart and sets it on your desk with one single rose. It’s very much his brand of romance.

He’ll make the effort to look nice if you go out though, mostly. Imagine a suit covered in his jolly roger. 

He gifts you a big polar bear plushie as a gift also, though he’s secretly jealous he didn’t get one for himself.

Zoro

Go easy on the boy, he doesn’t know what year, week, or day it is ever. He just got used to the seasons changing, don’t throw around concepts like dates and times. 

As long as you don’t mind poking him and reminding him about Valentine's Day he’s down to do something.

Don’t let him pick the place though, or he’ll never find his way back there again and it’ll just be messy for you both.

Though getting lost on a beach with the stars high above and sand between your toes does sound nice. Maybe you guys go on a little romantic date where he’s nagged Sanji into making you both a picnic basket and you go off to get lost on the small island and have a little adventure and picnic.

He goes to carve your names on the wood of a tree because he’d seen that somewhere and ends up cutting down the entire tree.

It’s sweet enough, it’s very Zoro.

He gets you some flowers off Nami’s blooming orange tree’s and sticks them in a sake bottle filled with water. He’ll die as soon as Nami finds out but you can enjoy it while it lasts.

Kid

Totally the type of guy to rip out the heart of your enemy and present it as a gift on Valentine's Day. 

Doesn’t really *get it* but he does his best, Killer helps, thankfully. He has something nice for you both, something that isn’t pasta for a start, and then leaves the rest up to Kid.

He doesn’t do cards but oh lord doesn’t he compliment you.

Can’t tell you enough how hot you are, how great you are. 

He plants many messy lipstick marks along your neck and arms, not good at the soft and romantic words so he tries his best to show you in more physical ways.

Tottay makes you a keepsake rose out of metal.

It's a chance to be sweet but also to flex and impress you.

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hello

Can I request a laios x reader, with the reader as laios ex-fiance, since their arrangements was broken off when he ran away without explanation reader have been sad and mad about it. But then someday laios mother told reader about laios become a new king after defeating a demon, reader decided to go there, because reader want to know why he ran away

I'm sorry if this is difficult to understand, English is not my first language, thank youuu

Oh you got no need to apologize its all ok. i understand what you meant. id be happy to do this. thank you so much for sending an imagine in.

Even though its been many years since laios cut off the arrangement and disappeared you still found yourself getting upset at him. He just cancelled it all and ran off to not be heard from again.

Of course over the years that anger and frustration faded greatly but every so often your mind would wander and you would feel your cheeks heat up at the thought of being abandoned like that. but over all you figure it was probably for the best anyway, you dont mind your life and that touden was always...strange to say the least even if he was a looker.

One day though as you are going about your day when laios mother approaches you, asking if she can come in. You agree and let her inside, despite your feelings about laios you had no bad blood with her. you get the both of you some tea as she starts speaking. "Did you hear about the rise of the golden kingdom?" she asks, you nod and say of course you had. it had been the talk of the entire world ever since it rose up out of the sea, seemingly out of nowhere one day. Apparently some group of adventurers defeated the mad mage and seemed like those rumors about becoming the new leader of it was true. You say casually as you take a sip of some tea. "yeah well apparently Laios was the one that defeated the mage and rules the golden kingdom now." she says so casually causing you to spit all the tea you were drinking out, shouting in confusion you ask her if you heard that right? she nods and explains what she had been told from letters from falin, you knew that falin had stayed in touch with there parents but laios had apparently cut them off a decade ago much to your surprise.

You decide to pay a visit, you feel like you almost HAVE to. you need to know why he just left you like that, why he did what he did all those years ago. It took you a bit to get to the new golden kingdom, laios definitely had travelled a far distance since your last time you saw him. By the time you reach the kingdom a full month has passed, you ask the guards to message the king telling him that "Y/N from his arranged marriage wanted to see him." of course you werent sure he would even respond, i mean why would he. he didnt want to marry you obviously so why should he care about seeing you, especially now that he is a KING of all things. However you were surprised when the guard came back and agreed to take you to the king.

When you entered you saw him sitting on a throne. To his left you see a young elf woman with twin braids beside him, This must have been his royal advisor maybe? you werent sure. However you did notice his sister beside her chatting with her...except she was different, she wasnt a tall man anymore..atleast not fully. you noticed a plume of fluffy white feathers poking out of the opening on her chest and down her arms. It was clear she had been changed by some form of magic.

As you walk closer laios asks if everyone can leave the room for a moment, he wants to talk privately with you as they agree and leave leaving only you and him. "So Y/N, how have things been?" He asks awkwardly, its clear he is uncomftorable and doesnt know what to say. You had thought of the things you would say to him for years now, over and over you had gone over in your head what you were going to say to the man that just up and left you like that. you would be furious and scream, sob and cry, all the words you planned to say just dissapear and all you can say is a single word. "why.."

He sighs as he rubs his neck and begins to explain, He tells you how he had began to despise his parents for how they let falin be treated, and how instead of supporting her and her talents they sent her away to the magic school on a different continent. He had grown to hate his parents (more so his father but he had no fond feelings towards his mother either) even though falin kept in contact with them. He also explained how he never felt comfortable around people, that he had always felt more comfortable around monsters...and that in truth he hated people. Plus he admits he wasnt the richest person in the world so would have been able to give you a proper dowry. All of these together made him feel like he wouldnt have been able to give you the life you deserved, he didnt want you to be stuck with a man that hated everyone around him and hated where he lived and wanted to leave and get as far away as he could. He figured that wasnt fair to you, and he didnt know how to properly convey this and let you down easily so...he ran.

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected...all this time you thought he just didnt like you or hated you ever, or he didnt care about you at all. All this time you hated him for what he did and that you swore you would get answers one day...but these werent the answers you were expected. It would have been so easy to continue to be mad at him, if he said he just didnt like you or hated you that would have been fine..you expected it at this point, but no...he did this because he didnt want to subject you to a miserable life with him..he knew you would be miserable with him if he had stayed there and he didnt want to put you through that...god this was so much harder than you were expecting. "You know....now that im king of the golden kingdom money isnt an issue..and ive made sure the kingdom is a kind place that treats everyone with kindness." you see him slump down a bit. "and since monsters come nowhere near the kingdom...if you want, we can get to know each other better..and see how we feel about each other then?" he says softly, damn that man he was a looker. you sigh, almost relieved its turned out that way. saying you would like that

[iwriteiguessandiloveit]

Toon!Juice x Reader

Guys I did it! I wrote a thing. Part 1/3 of the series with all three beej's)

Toon!Juice x reader - how you two got the ball rolling

Honestly, he doesn't realize the feelings he has for you are anything but platonic for a longgggg time

He just thinks of an extra special friend. You’re really important to him, THAT'S why his cheeks turn faint purple when you compliment him, why he feels compelled to wrap his arm around you when you sit down, why when you hug him he has to shift his hips backwards to keep a certain part of him from poking you (ect)

Okay, he admits the last one is a little hard to explain

But the ghost was never taught about the ‘Birds and the Beetles’ by anyone but the internet and his own brain filling in the gaps, so there's many things he doesn't know in this area of his afterlife

But the thing that tips him off is that when he sees you his long-dead heart starts thumping in his chest very visibly (the way cartoon characters do when they first see the love interest)

After that revelation of his, he becomes a relentless flirt

Things like leaving dead flowers on your dresser

A lot of ‘AWOOGA’ noises with the eyes popping out and his tongue rolling out of his mouth, the whole shebang

Trying to impress you while off on an adventure (usually ending badly one way or another)

Please be patient with him

He's a bit of a scaredy cat, so he never comes out and says it himself

A lot of that has to do with the fact he isn't a well liked ghoul, sure you were sticking around now but if he tried anything… would he be left without ANYONE?

Luckily, his eyes do the talking for him If you reciprocate his affections in any way shape or form, his pupils morph into hearts

It’s adorable

One day he asks you if you’d come to the Neitherworld with him to see the Fireworks for Halloween (it's the Neitherworld, of course they make it a huge deal)

He shows up in your mirror 15 minutes late as usual, with a dead rose in hand; it looks like he actually combed his hair? No way.

All sorts of colors burst in the sky and somehow, without thinking his hand finds yours. It's cold and clammy, nails sharp and unkempt. It's wonderful.

“Is this a date, BJ?” You ask

His brain does the loading screen thing and he stutters “well-I-only if-do you-”

He’s cut off by you pulling him down into a kiss

A little love-drunk, he whispers in your ear ‘I LOVE you, Babes"

“I love you too, Beetlejuice.”

[lou-struck]

Up All Night

Belphegor x reader

~Belphie gets splashed with Night Cricket essence and is cursed to hear their calling all through the night.

W.C: 3.5k

Warnings: Brief mention of Obey Me Chapter 16, slight angst, Belphie being crabby and kinda mean since he is tired.

Poor Belphegor can hardly keep his eyes open. It may be the early afternoon, but the Avatar of Sloth just arrived back at the House of Lamination after taking a make-up test at RAD. The reason he had to retake the test was not because he got a poor grade or anything; he just was too tired the day off and chose to sleep through all three of his alarms and, subsequently, the exam.

But now that that's over with, he can finally take his afternoon nap,

His head hangs low as he sluggishly trudges through his home. Searching for the perfect place to rest his head. His favorite cow-printed pillow secure in his arms as he pokes his head into your room.

Much to his disappointment, he sees that you are still out running errands or doing something equally as exhausting. Normally, he would have no problem falling asleep in your bed, but today, he is feeling a bit adventurous.

Today, for some reason. He is home alone which means he is presented with with rare opportunity to fall asleep anywhere. 

But where should he go?

Lucifer's office?

Leviathan's Bathtub?

That really comfy carpeted spot in Asmodeus' closet?

All this thinking only tires him out more as he wanders into the quiet living room. And when his violet eyes come to rest on the long plush sofa, he knows what he must do.

'I haven't slept there in a while," he says to himself. His legs feel like they are made of lead as they carry him toward the rose-scented cushions. He doesn't even bother to pay attention to the Akuzon package that rests on the little side table that he passes.

His pillow bumps the table and sends the little package tumbling to the ground. The box rolls a bit, and the sound of breaking glass reaches his ears.

'I hope that wasn't important,' he yawns, shrugging off any concerns he had and plopping down onto the couch and falling into a deep sleep.

Unaware of the nightmare he has created for himself.

~ 

The front door had just shut behind you when you heard a shrill screech of horror coming from the living room. Your breath hitches as you drop your floral printed tote bag to the ground and rush towards the sound, magic brimming at your fingers, ready for anything.

But as you rush through the doorway, you see the purple-haired Avatar of Envy on his knees, hunched over a fallen Akuzon package. The magic at your fingers fizzles away, and you sigh, seeing that Belphegor still sleeps comfortably on the couch despite his older brother's meltdown.

"Belphie, what did you do to my package?" Levi screeches, reaching over the couch and shaking his youngest brother roughly from his slumber.

He stretches out like a cat and smacks his lips sleepily as he sits up. "Oh, hey Levi. What's in the box?"

Levi sighs and looks down at the open box. Pulling out what looks to be the neck of a broken bottle. "It was the night cricket essence I ordered, but you broke it."

The Avatar of Sloth looks lazily between the box and his brothers. "Oh? I guess I did. I'm sorry, Levi."

"What's night cricket essence?" You ask, stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of the sofa where Belphie's legs are.

"Night crickets are a special kind of bug known to keep demons up at night; I wanted to put a few drops of their magic into my energy drinks so I can stay up all night to play games."

Your eyes widen at Levi's explanation; the Otaku hardly gets enough sleep as it is; he doesn't need some hardcore magical caffeine supplement to keep him wired. "No, you definitely should not do that, ever."

He crossed his arms and huffs, "It's not like I can anymore. He broke the bottle, and the shop I got it from just got shut down."

"I wonder why?" Belphie chimes in, sitting up just a bit more to grab your hand. Even though you are seated on the same couch as him, he feels like you are too far away.

Levi's face is a deep crimson color and he looks like he is ready to burst. "That's not the point. You broke my package and now I won't be able to play through my new game all in one sitting. Everyone is going to find all the hidden items before me, and I'll look like a complete loser on my server."

"Yeah, that is what will make you look lame." The avatar of sloth quips back with youngest sibling-level sass. You bite the inside of your cheek as you try to keep a straight face and not damage Levi's already fragile ego. 

"Anyways," you clear your throat, trying your best to desolate this situation. "Levi, you really shouldn't buy things like that. It could really mess you up. And I hate to see you uncomfortable."

Levi looks at you with a grateful smile. "Oh, Mc, you really do care. Even if I am just a pathetic little shut-in. I'm going to make my avatar in the game look just like you as extra motivation to stay alive." he grins, rushing down the hallway, ready to play his game.

Now alone, you look to Belphie, who looks like he is about to fall back asleep holding on to your hand. "Don't you dare," you scold, taking your hand out of his. "You are on dinner tonight, and you are not sleeping through it again and buying takeout."

"But everyone loves Hell's Kitchen." he yawns, looking at you with a pleading expression. 

Standing strong you ignore his puppy dog eyes and give him a knowing look. 

"Fine, you win Mc." He sighs, taking your hand. "But you have to help me since it's too tiring for me to do it all on my own." You fight the chuckles as he leads you into the kitchen to be his sous chef for the evening."

~

Hours later, Belphie finds himself in his bedroom. His stomach is full, his teeth are brushed, and he slips on a cool pair of pajamas. 

He may be able to fall asleep anywhere, at any time, in any condition, but it always feels better to slip into something cool and soft against his skin at the end of the day. 

Beel emerges from the bathroom, a tired smile on his face as he wipes a bit of toothpaste from his lips with the back of his hand. "The Roasted Cockatrice you made tonight was delicious; you should make it more often, Belphie."

He smiles at the taller demon as he slides under his lavender-scented covers. The softness of his quilted down, embracing him like an old friend. "Thank you, Beel; if you like it so much, I can make it again for you sometime, and you can eat as much as you want."

Beel gives him a big, happy smile as he gets into his bed on the other side of the room. "I think I am going to dream about it tonight."

Belphie laughs as he sets his DDD down on its bedside charging port. "Careful Beel, the last time you dreamt about dinner you ended up eating your pillow in your sleep."

He frowns and looks at his mattress, "I really liked that pillow too," recalling the memory foam pillow you got him from the human world. He sighs and slips into his sheets. "Goodnight Belphie."

"Good night, Beel." With a flick of his wrist, he turns the bedroom light on and lets his head rest against the pillow, ready to head off into dreamland.

Minutes turn to hours as his cool sheets heat up uncomfortably, and the enviable sound of Beel's soft snoring can be heard from the other side of the room.

This feeling of restlessness is unknown to the Avatar of Sloth as he tosses and turns, waiting for sleep to take him, but it never comes…

~

The next morning, you find yourself at the breakfast table sipping on a chilled glass of freshly pressed blushberry juice and basking in the early morning shenanigans of the Avatars of Sin. 

Next to you, Beel is devouring a mountain of protein waffles after what you can assume to be an intense early morning workout.  

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mammon sneakily trying to pluck all the blood strawberries out of the communal fruit bowl without anyone catching him. And so far, no one has. Especially since Asmo's flash keeps going off as he takes and retakes pictures of the adorable latte art Satan made for him. 

At the table head, Lucifer reads the newspaper, the ghost of a smile on his face as he tries to hide his contentment with this family time.

All of a sudden, Asmo drops his phone and lets out a gasp. "Oh Belphie, what happened to you? You look horrible hon."

Your head snaps to the doorway, and your gut fills with concern as you take in Belphie's appearance. His skin is sickly pale, his hair is ruffled beyond what one would call bedhead, and his usually bright violet eyes are framed by deep dark circles.

Had he slept at all last night?

"Shut up, Asmo," he grumbles, dragging himself to his seat and grabbing the pot of coffee from the center of the table.

You could hear a pin drop in the room as everyone watches him pours an impossibly tall mug for himself. He completely ignores the thick wisps of steam that dance on the lip of the mug and inhales the entirety of the dark roast-like air.

Beel swallows the waffle that had been caught in his throat and gently places a hand on his twin's shoulder "Belphie, are you okay?"

"Does it look like I am okay?" he snaps, jerking his shoulder out of his grasp "I heard you stomping all over the place this morning. It's impossible to get any sleep when I have to listen to you all night long."

Your eyes widen. Did Belphie really just say that to his twin? His favorite being in the three realms? Beel's face falls, and he is about to utter a small apology, but he is interrupted by a firm cough from Lucifer, who sets his newspaper down on the polished table.

"Clearly someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he says, staring down his youngest brother with a gaze of fiery crimson. "You should think about what you are about to say next, Belphegor, or you will deeply regret it."

"Whatever, you guys aren't worth my energy." he gets up and walks out of the room, leaving the room in uncomfortable silence. You glance over to Lucifer and meet his gaze. His jaw is clenched, but he gives you a nod of encouragement that has you exiting the room to try and find Belphie and figure out what has gotten him so upset.

You don't have to go very far. Belphegor's steps are unenergized and painstakingly slow, allowing you to easily catch up to him in the hallway. Gently, you reach for his hand to stop him.

"Belphie, what is wrong with you?" you ask, "You never get mad at Beel like that."

His gaze narrows, and he rips his hand out of your grasp way harder than he usually would. "Well, maybe if he learned how to function without sounding like a stampede of elephants is marching through the room when I'm trying to sleep, I wouldn't have to get mad at him."

"Belphie…"

"And why did you follow me?" He says, his features twist into a cruel smirk that has you taking a hesitant step backward. "Is the nosy little human trying to make themselves feel all important by getting involved in our business? Why don't you get out of my face and get back to the human world where you belong."

Ouch…

Pain flashes in your gaze and he finally realizes that he went way too far. "Mc, I-i didn't mean it~" he tries to come closer to you, to apologize, but it's too late."

Your reply to him is cold and dismissive. "Just go get some rest Belphegor. You obviously need it." You glare at him and turn to walk back towards the dining room.

"Mc, wait." He tries to call after you, but you're gone. And when you sit back at your seat at the table you notice that your breakfast tastes far less sweet than it did a moment ago.

~

You have avoided Belphie for the better part of the day, and you have tried not to think of his cruel words. You want to give him time to fix his cranky attitude, but honestly, you don't know if you want to talk to him right now.

It is now way too late in the evening you are hunched over at your desk working on something for RAD when you hear a weak knock on your door. You glance at your little clock. It's 3:45 in the morning. 

Who would be knocking on your door at this hour?

You pad across the carpet and open the door slowly to reveal the disheveled (and honestly pathetic-looking) Belpheghor. 

"What do you want?" you say, tightening your grip on the door, ready to shut it in his face if he says anything rude, but you freeze when you take in his appearance. He looks worse for wear than he did earlier. Clearly, he did not take your advice and rest earlier.

"Please," he murmurs out. "Please let me in"

He looks so pitiful, your cave; opening the door wider to allow him inside. His head hangs low as he drags his feet across your carpet in a zombie-like fashion.

He slowly sits himself down on the edge of your mattress and stares down at his hands as if there is some kind of apology tattooed on his fingers.

"M'sorry." he mumbles at last, his voice raw from frustration. "After what happened last time… I told myself I would never do anything to hurt you ever again. I just wasn't thinking, and it slipped out."

"Clearly," you huff sourly, still licking your wounds from yesterday morning. "If that's really what you think of me, then that's fine, but Beel doesn't deserve to be snapped at either."

He opens his mouth in protest, "It's not like that; you know how much you mean to me, Mc. I'm just not acting like myself." He looks like he is about to cry, and it tugs at your heartstrings. "It's no excuse, but I'm tired."

"Then how about you just go to fucking sleep already then?" you respond. You may just be a human, but the demons aren't the only ones capable of inflicting hurt.

"Because I can't." he raises his voice, and you flinch under the sharp edge to his voice. 

Immediately, he steps back for your comfort. This small act of consideration, even in the heat of the moment, makes you see him not as the monster in your mind but as a piece of your heart.

You think about what he is trying to say.

He can't sleep.

How is that possible?

 He is literally the Avatar of Sloth.

 One time he fell asleep on a rollercoaster because it took too long of a pause at the top before zooming downward.

"What do you mean you can't sleep?" you ask softly. Your feet move on their own, gently closing the distance between your bodies as you sit down next to him on the edge of your firm mattress. "What's going on Belphie?"

Your proximity is like a weighted blanket to him, and he leans in closer to your touch. "I haven't slept at all since that nap I took two days ago by the fire."

"Two days?"

You may not know the ins and outs of the effects that each brother's sin has on them, but you know that Belphie doesn't just sleep all the time because he wants to; he has to. Two days for him must be agonizing. 

Thinking back to the other day you try to think of any little details that may lead you to why the poor demon next to you is unable to catch a wink of sleep. 

You remember sitting next to Belphie on the couch…

And Levi was screaming about a package…

The Night Cricket Essence!

"I think I know why you haven't been able to sleep," you say, reaching for your DDD and pulling up your browser. Searching for anything you can about the demonic caffeine supplement thingamabob. 

The effects pop up instantly, along with several warnings about the consumption of the product. You make a mental note to talk to Levi about his purchase history later, but you continue to scroll about the product. 

"What are you looking at?" Belphie asks, leaning over your shoulder. He is so exhausted he slumps into your side, but you don't mind in the slightest. 

"The effects of Night Cricket Essence," you reply. "It says here that you should only add a few drops into a drink to keep you awake, but it must've vaporized when you broke the bottle.

"So I inhaled the whole bottle?" he blinks.

"I think so," you muse; it seems to be the only way to explain how someone as powerful as him could be affected.

"When will it wear off?" he groans, leaning back onto the mattress. 

"No clue, sorry. I'll keep looking," you murmur, trying to find some kind of a cure. 

You scroll and scroll and scroll until you stumble across something that sounds promising. 

If consumed in excess, the effects of Night Cricket Essence may be counteracted with a cup of chamomile tea.

Is that all it takes? A cup of tea?

It's worth a shot

"Come with me, Belphie, I want to try something to help you." Despite his restless exhaustion, your soft voice and kinder eyes are able to coax him onto his feet. He follows you out your bedroom door and into the kitchen.

He sits down at the counter as you scamper about the room, grabbing everything you need to make the both of you a nice cup of tea. 

For demons, getting ahold of human world tea is next to impossible, but you had just come back from a trip with Barbatos to stock up on some hard-to-find blends. Chamomile included. 

It doesn't take long for the tea kettle to whistle as you pour him a cup. You hand it to him carefully before pouring your own. 

"Let's hope this works," you mumble, blowing on your own glass, but he wastes no time. He drinks it desperately, and a few droplets strip down his chin and onto the tabletop.

By the time he comes up for air, the cup is empty, and you know this is an immediate difference in his appearance. His eyes droop, and he looks at you with a sleepy smile. 

"Thash goose" he stumbles out. You may not have the same twin telepathy that he and Beel have, but you know what he means as he sets the cup down clumsily. 

"How are you feeling?" you ask, sliding around the counter and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

"Tired," he mumbles, tilting his head up so you would kiss his lips. His movements are sluggish, but the sensation of your lips on his is enough to keep him going a bit longer. “Can I has slee in yer ruum?” 

"You want to sleep in my room?" you ask, watching as his lids get heavier and heavier.

"Yesh, wanna cuddle."

You smile as he clings onto wakefulness, waiting to hear your answer. "You can stay with me." Your acceptance brings a smile to his face as he sinks onto the tabletop; his head hits the wood with a thud as he finally dips into his well-deserved rest. His soft breathing fills the room as you finish your tea. Once your little tea break is over, you will have to put him on your back and carry him to your room.

~

Three days later, you are once again at the breakfast table. When Belphie finally emerges from your bedroom looking extremely well rested. The others, having been made aware of the situation, breathe a sigh of relief when he takes a seat next to Beelzebub. 

"Good morning Belphie." Beel smiles hesitantly at his twin through his breakfast sandwich.

"I'm sorry for how I acted earlier; I hope you're not too upset with me to go out for lunch."

The smile that appears on Beel's face makes your heart melt as he nods eagerly. "Can Mc come with us too? Food always tastes better when I eat with both of you."

Belphie glances over to you as you nod and directs his attention back to his brother. "I think that can be arranged."

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Eleven

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten,

A/N: Omg I had such a HUGE influx of readers for this story, and I am grateful to each and every one of you for reading my story! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and all the others I will be writing in the future.

Working at the tea shop was Orora's first time at a job. She was just as green to it as Zuko was. However, she did not voice her disgust at the notion every few seconds. She was eager to learn, and ready to earn her living. As much as she appreciated the money Iroh had given her, she wanted to contribute to their financial situation as well.

The first day had been busy. There had been the different types of teas she had to learn to brew, other then the ones she already knew thanks to her Master. Then there were dishes to wash almost constantly. Not a lot of customers had come in that day, Pao having closed the shop early to allow his new employees to get to know their work place, so it hadn't been as tiring as she had thought it would be.

What Orora found she liked to do, was wash the dishes. She got to play with water and bubbles, and it helped calm her. Strange, she knew, but after so many days of being on the run, doing something as simple as washing dishes was oddly calming. Not to mention the job allowed her mind to roam and ponder over things she had not allowed herself to for quite some time now.

As she set aside one of the more expensive looking cups, the young waterbender sighed softly through her nose.

So far the truce she had offered Zuko seemed to be working. Though it had only been a few hours since it had been put into effect. And they'd only managed to snap at each other twice. True after the second time Iroh had seen the wisdom in separating them by giving them jobs to do at different ends of the shop. Zuko worked the front, taking orders and such, while Orora washed the dishes in the back.

Picking up a plate and dunking it in the soapy water, Orora continued to let her thoughts wander and ask the questions she wished she could say out loud.

Such as why were Zuko and Iroh fugitives of the Fire Nation? They were royalty, surely the Fire Lord would want his brother and son back. And did Zuko's sister truly want to kill her own Uncle? That thought sent a shiver down her spine. But what about their mother? Didn't she have a say in all of this? Was she treated just like Orora's mother was treated?

She had so many questions, and more, and all she wanted to do was march right up to Zuko and demand that he answer them.

But something held her back.

Maybe because she was a polite person who didn't go about poking her nose in other people's business.

Or perhaps, more likely, she had no desire to cause Zuko any pain by talking about his past. It was surely a sore subject, from the bits and pieces of information she had collected over the months. Besides, he already had his hands full trying to adjust to living in Ba Sing Se. Orora just wished he would figure himself out faster so she could ask all her questions.

Oh, she could ask Iroh if she wanted to, and her would probably answer, but for some insane reason, she wanted the answers to come from Zuko himself.

Spirit help her but she felt it was the right thing since it was his story.

Memories of every encounter she had ever had with the young prince rose unbidden, yet not unwelcome in her mind, as she started to play with the water not having any more dishes to wash.

It was strange, how someone she had not even known a few months ago was now at the very center of her life. He wasn't all that she thought about, really this was the first time she was allowing herself to think of him to such an extent. Usually she had other things to think about. Such as surviving, learning from her Master, perfecting her water bending techniques, inventing new ways to incorporate ice into her fighting, improving on her combat skills, restocking her medicinal herbs, making sure she didn't loose touch with her healing side, because as much as she liked to put her waterbending skills to use by fighting, she knew healing was a major part of who she was.

All those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, as she focused on a pair of golden eyes that seemed to watch her wherever she went, watching her every step. At first she had thought, it was perhaps because he didn't trust her. But slowly, that mistrust in his eyes had faded. Now, when she would catch him looking at her, he would look away.

Then again, who was she to complain. She looked at him and had been caught looking at him by him on multiple occasion.

Her fingers continued to twirl, her gaze listless as she created pretty patterns in the water.

She thought of the night when they had first met, officially at least. When he had tried to rob her. She could still recall every detail with a clarity that surprised even her.

She contemplated on their little sparring session and the conversation after it, how she had encouraged him to find something to live for, to fight for.

She recalled how shocked she had been when she realized his true identity. A prince. An honest to goodness prince. One who couldn't stand her, and who she couldn't stand either.

At least, she thought that was the case.

Her mind conjured the moment where she had first touched his scar. How vulnerable he had looked, and yet he had trusted her enough to not push her away. The way he had protected her when they were at the Oasis. The conversation they had shared while bathing. That one brought a fierce blush to her cheeks. And despite her best effort to move on to the next one, she found the blush only intensifying as she remembered the moment they had shared on the mountain.

Where they had acknowledged that they were soulmates. Where he had gripped her wrist, so desperately and yet so soft. Where she had wandered how his lips would feel against her own. And she was sure he had been thinking the same.

After all, hadn't he leaned forward slightly before the elements of nature had tread on their moment?

So lost in her thoughts, that she didn't even sense as someone else entered her work area and stood next to her. Watching her.

"Uncle says its time to go now."

The voice jolted her out of her thoughts, scaring her so much that she jumped where she stood. Her bending reacted out of instinct, mirroring her startled emotion as her hand shot a splash of water on the figure standing next to her.

"Spirits! You startled me!" She panted, resting a hand above her heart. Zuko glowered at her in return, water dripping from his hair and onto his shoulders. The girl winced, pursing her lips to hide a smile, though it still escaped. She couldn't help it, he just looked utterly ridiculous.

At his warning growl, she couldn't help but giggle. A strange sound since it hardly ever came from her. "Sorry, here." Quickly bending the water, she threw it back into the sink and gave him an apologetic smile. His glare did not let up.

"We're done here for the day. Lets go." He grumbled, before making for the door. She rolled her eyes. Clearly he wasn't too pleased with her little reaction. As he stomped off, she called after him, removing her apron as she went. "I said I was sorry!"

                                          ————————–

Their new home was a small apartment, just big enough for the three of them. As soon as they returned, Orora quickly settled in the middle of the room, wanting to get in an hour of meditation before bed. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, folded her hands in her lap and evened out her breathing.

Which left Iroh to brew some more tea for them, and for Zuko to lay on the sofa, hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind going over the day's event.

A job. For once in his life, he was actually working for a living. The notion had seemed strange at first, not to mention he had felt that it was beneath him, but what Orora had said was true. They did need jobs if they were to survive in this city.

Reluctantly, his gaze flickered to the water tribe girl as she sat meditating peacefully, oblivious to the effect she had had on him.

Him. Prince of the Fire Nation. Being effected by the words of a commoner.

Or rather, he was being effected by the words of a girl who was his soulmate.

Letting out a silent groan, his hand came up to press the back of his hand against his eyes, as if to physically stop him from staring too long at her. It was starting to get pathetic, just how much he would want her opinion on things.

He wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted her to approve of him, but it was pleasant to have someone else beside his Uncle give him a little wisdom. He spoke of life in riddles and words that were heavy with emotion.

Orora?

She would give it straight to his face. No regard of his feelings, his stand on whatever topic it was. She would just come out and say it.

And he appreciated her for that.

True he never always liked what she said, but sometimes they were the exact words he needed to hear.

Like the talk they had had after their impromptu battle near that lake. He still hadn't found something to live for, or to fight for, but at least he knew that he was looking for something.

Not to mention the fact that he would be ever grateful to her for saving Uncle's life. He would never say it outright, but in that moment he had been so so scared and she had stepped up and healed Iroh. Even after getting to know who they were and the lies she had been led to believe for so long.

And how she had probably saved him that stormy night on the mountain. A moment of weakness on his part, letting his emotions get the best of him, but she'd been there. She'd been where he needed her to be, and had not held back when telling him off for being so reckless.

He had to stop his thoughts there, not wanting to dwell too much on what would've happened if that moment in the rain had gone on any longer.

And then there was the truce. To live together somewhat harmoniously.

Lifting his hand, he looked at her again, watching her face. She looked so calm in that moment, as opposed to the plethora of emotions that always played about her features. Zuko found he was beginning to think of it as a game. A game where he would try to guess what she would feel next, and whether it would effect him in some way.

So far, almost every emotion she felt was directed at him, and though he would never ever admit it out loud, he kind of liked having her attention be on him rather then anything else.

Huffing to himself, as if disgusted with his own thoughts, he rose to his feet, moving to the pantry to see what he could have for dinner.

                                          ————————–

"Orora, my dear." Glancing up from where she had been counting the money of the customer who had just paid, the young waterbender gave Iroh a nod. "Yes Master?"

"We seem to have run out of Jasmine. I have asked Pao and he says to take some money from the till and buy some Jasmine tea from the shop just down the street."

Taking the money, Orora quickly nodded, before rushing to the back of the shop where Zuko was on dish washing duty. Seeing her taking off her apron, he frowned. "Where're you going?"

Straightening her clothes, the girl replied. "Ran out of Jasmine, just going to buy some." She had barely made it to the door when Zuko called out. "Wait, I'm supposed to go with you when you go out into the city."

Orora glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes slightly. "Relax Your Highness. Its only a five minute walk, nothing is going to happen to me." She opened the door, moving to step outside, but then she paused.

"Although, it is sweet of you to worry about me." She glanced over at him, a smile on her lips as she caught sight of the obvious flush on his cheeks as he looked at anything but her. "I'll be back soon." She said as a way of promise, before she was out of the tea shop.

It was a five minute walk, and once the goods were secured, the girl began to make her way back to the shop, her heart still warm at the prospect of Zuko actually worrying about her.

Her happy thoughts, however, were interrupted rather rudely when a hard hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her into a dark alley, covering her mouth with a rough hand.

The instant she felt the unfamiliar hands, she began to struggle and push with all her strength, trying to get away.

"Stop moving!" A voice hissed, a very familiar voice.

Her eyes focused in the dark, and she was able to make out the face of the boy they had met on the way to Ba Sing Se.

The Freedom Fighter, Jet.

Her pale blue eyes narrowed, and a look akin to a cold anger burned in the gaze she fixed him with. "Look I just want to talk, that's all." He said, still not letting up from where he had his hand on her mouth.

She continued to glare at him, even after he had removed his hand, though his other kept an almost painful grip on her wrist. "I'm trying to help you. You're a waterbender, there's no way you would be with those firebenders of your own free will, so they must be keeping you prisoner somehow."

He knows, a voice hissed in her mind, prompting her heart to beat faster in her chest, and an ugly feeling of fear to coil in her stomach. But she didn't let it show.

Instead, she remained the epitome of disgust and anger. "What in the world are you talking about?"

There seemed to be an almost manic look in his eyes, accompanied by impatience, as he dropped her hand, and grabbed her shoulders. "You don't have to lie for them. I'm trying to help you. I just need evidence and then we can end those two firebenders."

End?! Spirits! He wanted to kill Iroh and Zuko.

Shrugging out of his grasp, Orora stepped away, fingers pulling the cork of her water satchel in case she needed to defend herself. "You're out of your mind." She growled at him. Despite the terror she felt at hearing his statement, her instinct to protect her two companions was far potent, which was the reason she was even able to face the boy with murder in his eyes.

"Just admit the truth! They're firebenders! And they deserve to die." He was starting to get frustrated with her. "I don't care what you say, I will find some way to expose them, and when I do, I'll have the pleasure of executing them."

Hearing those words, hearing the tone in his voice, the sheer hatred and anger in his eyes. Something in her snapped.

With a fierce cry she threw her arm out, the movement elegant yet deadly, given that Jet found himself staring at the very sharp ends of multiple icicles that she pointed in his direction.

"This is your first and last warning." She hissed, her voice full of warning. "If you come near them, if you so much as harm a single hair on their head, I will personally see to it that you pay for it." She fixed him with a cold stare. "In blood."

So saying, she turned her back to him, leaving him trapped behind her icicles. They would melt soon enough, though the words Jet called after her as she walked away, echoed in her ears all the way back to the tea shop.

"You would threaten someone who's on your side. You're willing to protect the enemy?! You're a traitor to your own people. A disgrace! You're just like them! A killer!"

                                          ————————–

As soon as she reached the back door of the tea shop, Orora leaned up against the wooden door. Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid it would somehow burst out of her chest. A stinging sensation behind her eyes told her she was close to tears. Lifting a trembling hand, she pressed it to face, willing herself to calm down.

She had to warn Zuko and Iroh, make sure they were on guard. She couldn't let anything happen to them. They were her friends. She cared about them. Both of them.

Somehow, she managed to calm herself down, slightly, and entered the shop. It had taken her a good fifteen minute to calm down. Grabbing her apron, she tied it behind her in a haphazard manner before rushing out to the front of the shop.

There was Iroh, pouring tea for a customer, with Zuko picking up cups left behind by a previous customer. She all but stumbled forward, catching Zuko's hand, prompting him to look at her, confused and slightly alarmed at her obvious panicked state.

"Orora? Wha-"

But she didn't let him finish. "He knows." She whispered, aware of the other customers around her. "Jet knows." The words were spoken so softly that no one else could ever hear them, and yet Zuko did. Loud and clear.

However, before either of them could talk further on what she had revealed, the door of the shop slammed open and Jet himself walked in. A strangled gasp left her lips, as she caught sight of that murderous look in his eyes once more.

"I'm tired of waiting!" He pointed an accusing finger at both Iroh and Zuko. "These two men are firebenders! And that girl is helping them. She's a traitor!"

Immediately, Zuko pushed Orora behind him, gripping one of her hands to make sure she stayed there. Uncle and nephew exchanged a look which seemed to mirror what the other was thinking.

Play dumb.

"I know they're firebenders, I saw the old man heating his tea!" Jet continued, advancing towards the trio with his hooked swords out of their sheaths. "He works in a tea shop." A nearby customer stated in a rather confused voice, but Jet wasn't having it. "He's a firebender! I'm telling you!"

The same customer stood. "Drop your swords, boy. Nice and easy." Jet ignored him, his gaze never leaving Zuko's as he began to advance towards him and Orora. "You'll have to defend yourself. Then everyone will know. Go ahead, show them what you can do." His gaze flickered to Orora who, previous fear forgotten to be replaced by a burning anger, glared back at him. "Or would you rather have your girlfriend get hurt defending you."

She felt his grip on her hand tighten to an almost painful level. "Zuko, no! He's goading you!" She whispered, even as the previous customer moved to step forward, ready to unsheathe his sword. Zuko simply glanced at her. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She knew exactly what he was about to do.

And sure enough he stepped forward and grabbed the swords the customer had been about to withdraw. "You want a show?" He growled. "I'll give you a show!'

He pulled a table in front of him with his foot and kicked it at Jet, who was quick to slice the table with his swords and jumped over it. As he landed, he swung both hook swords at the Fire Nation prince, who deflected the attack and jumped backward onto another table. Which was again sliced in half by Jet, with a mighty swing of one sword through the middle of the table.

Somehow Zuko managed to balance on one half of the table, on one foot! Jet was unrelenting as he continued his frenzied attack by cutting the legs off the table. Zuko was quick on his feet as he jumped up. As he landed, he swung both broadswords at Jet's feet, but he somersaulted away and landed in a crouching position before charging forward. Zuko swung both of his swords at Jet.

Both weapons clashed as both fighters tried to best the other, glaring at each other as they did.

"Enough!"

Orora's scream cut through the air as she used her waterbending to push the two fighters apart. She moved to stand in front of Zuko, multiple ice knives nestled between her fingers as she stared down Jet. "We are not your enemies! Stop acting like a complete lunatic!" Zuko growled behind her. "Orora, stay out of this!" Jet's grip on his swords only tightened. "I will not listen to anyone who betrays their own people to help firebenders."

He took a running start, prompting Orora to drop in her stance to defend herself, however her plan of action went out the window when Zuko pushed her to the side. So forcefully that she fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Jet threw his leg out, catching Zuko in the chest and watching as he went flying through the air, smashing through the doors of the tea shop and out into the street. As the rest of the patrons rushed out to see what would happen next, Iroh quickly helped Orora to stand up.

"Are you alright my dear?" He asked, checking her over for injuries. She gave a quick nod, before stumbling to the door of the shop, Iroh following behind.

Outside the battle continued to rage between the two teenagers.

"Please, son, you're confused! You don't know what you're doing!" Even he was getting worried that Zuko would snap and use his firebending. Orora began to pray silently to the Moon Spirit, hoping her pleas would be heard and that Zuko wouldn't get hurt or reveal his true identity. The people would surely kill Zuko and Iroh, if they knew who they really were.

"Bet you wish he'd help you out with a little fire blast right now." As Jet swung at Zuko's feet, Zuko stabbed one of his broadswords through the hilt of his sword, pinning it to the ground. Jet looked annoyed at loosing his weapon, before focusing back on Zuko. "You're the one who needs help." Zuko responded. Leaving the sword embedded in the floor, they shifted to combating with a single sword each. Jet turned in a circle, trying to swipe at Zuko once again, but Zuko quickly advanced and swung his sword at Jet.

The Freedom Fighter quickly bent backward to avoid the blade, though it did manage to cut the straw sticking out of his mouth in half. Regaining his balance, Jet jumped backward onto the edge of a well. "You see that‌?!" He called out to the gathered crowd. "The Fire Nation is trying to silence me. It'll never happen." He attacked once more, hooking his sword to the top of the well and sending a flying kick towards Zuko.

Zuko growled as he dodged the kick and swung his sword at Jet once again. He moved to the side, and suddenly they were back-to-back, trying to land a hit, but neither could get past the other's defense.

Just then two newcomers entered the crowd. And from their uniforms, they looked to be of an official status. "Drop your weapons." One of them commanded. The two fighters stepped away and faced each other. Though Zuko lowered his sword, Jet pointed his weapon at Zuko, Iroh and Orora.

"Arrest them! They're firebenders!" Iroh stepped forward, throwing his arms out. "This poor boy is confused. We're just simple refugees." Pao, wanting to defend his employees joined in as he pointed to Jet. "This young man wrecked my tea shop, and assaulted my employees!" The customer from whom Zuko had borrowed the swords stepped forward. "It's true, sir. We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the city." Iroh blushed at the compliment. "Oh, ho, ho. That's very sweet."

Knowing it would be like adding wood to the fire, Orora stepped forward. "And he attacked me and threatened to hurt my Master and his nephew." She walked towards the two men, hand exposed to the wrist where he had grabbed her earlier. Sure enough the bruise from his grip was already beginning to change the color of her skin. The sight of it had Zuko nearly swinging his sword once again, but Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

It would seem the two had heard enough. As Jet continued his tirade of firebenders and Fire Nation, he was escorted to a cart where he was put in the metal cell and taken away.

Orora watched him go, unaware of the crowd as it dispersed around them.

"Orora?" At Iroh's voice, she turned around, still a little spooked with what had just happened. Or rather what could've happened. "Why don't you and Li go home. I'll help Pao clean up and meet you there."

As if she had no control over her actions, Orora took off her apron and handed it to Iroh, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "Do see that my nephew wasn't too hurt from the kick, my dear." The concern was evident in his gaze, as was the guilt in her own as she glanced at Zuko who was returning the sword to it's rightful owner.

Giving him a small nod, she waited for Zuko to walk past her, before following after him towards their shared home.

                                          ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist

[yuri-is-online]

Hi, there (again)!

If it's not too much trouble, make a second and last request, I can request

Pronto: (5) seeing their partner wearing someone else's jacket

With Trey, Silver And Sebek?

In case of passing me orders you can discard my order. Take your time and at your pace, bye 🌠🌌✍️💐

5. Jealousy pt.1- seeing their partner wearing someone else's jacket

Hello again yourself! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that this was the most popular prompt huh (ﾟωﾟ；) Sorry I took so long to get back around to this one, I hope it was not too frustrating a wait I find it a bit difficult to wrap my head around Sebek.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Rook is a bit dramatic (Trey), light injury but nothing descriptive (Silver), some misunderstandings quickly cleared (Sebek). The rest of the event requests can be found here.

Trey

"My beloved, hath thou truly forgotten me? Tis I! Your sweetheart!"

In a scene out of a particularly annoying, tropey rom com, the thought dead lover throws themselves into the... indifferent arms of a most unwilling extra around whose shoulders have been draped a lab coat to serve as a makeshift cape. Trey should be focusing on his strawberries, or maybe the grip he has on the watering can, but it is getting much more difficult to ignore the farce going on just out of his line of sight. Sure, Trey trusts you, he isn't worried you are going to leave him for Rook of all people he's just worried that you're uncomfortable. That's it. That's why he keeps glancing at the lab coat and not listening to the dialogue.

"Thine eyes doth not deceive thee?" You know you're supposed to put effort into line delivery, but you literally just got this script ten seconds ago so you hope Rook' expectations are low. "I hath been adventuring in a distant land these many moons, thinking only of returning to thee and thine-" your face immediately wrinkles "Rook I'm not saying this shit."

"Non non," Rook shakes his head, dropping character only for a second "You will not be saying them, your character will be saying them." He settles back into his role making doe eyes up at you as you swear you hear the sound of something snapping just behind you. Probably your patience.

"Thine eyes doth not deceive thee, I hath been adventuring in a distant land these many moons, thinking only of returning to thee and thine embrace." the script calls for Rook to dip you, but instead of Le chasseur d’amour you find yourself gently pulled back by your makeshift cape into the arms of a knight.

"Sorry," the "cape" falls to the ground as Trey spins you into a dip, complete with the lengthy kiss the script called for "but I don't have anything cool to say." And yet the way he holds you, the strain in his smile and the angry slit his eyes have slimmed to is very cool. Very rare is the sight of genuine frustration on Trey Clover's face, rarer still the glare. Rook is well and truly enraptured, and now it's your turn to feel jealous.

"Chevalier des Roses! I certainly hope I did not overstep-" That bastard is grinning, almost like he was deliberately trying to poke the bear.

"Of course not." Trey pulls you up, arm wrapped firmly around your waist. "I just need to get a new watering can from storage and was wondering if Yuu wanted to come with me." Ha "ask" as if he is intending on letting you go, his grip hasn't loosened one bit.

Silver

"I'm sorry we weren't able to be of more help, prefect." The kitchen ghost's mournful face looks painfully out of place, you're so used to seeing their big smiles you almost feel like you're the one who screwed up.

"It's ok, really! Please don't feel bad, I'm not going to quit just because we had one little accident." Technically, it was not a little accident, otherwise you would still be wearing your clothes and not a master chef approved chef's jacket, but in pursuit of enlightenment one must be willing to make a few sacrifices. If making coffee could be considered a culinary pursuit.

"I'm very glad to hear that," some of the ghost's usual pep returns, along with it his seriousness as an instructor "but no more attempts today, you hear me? Make sure to put a compress on your arm when you get back to Ramshackle and put some ointment on it. I'll never forgive myself if your burn gets worse." You give a mock salute, carefully cradling the single thermos of coffee you had managed to salvage from your lessons close to your chest with your non injured arm.

"Aye aye captain, I'll make sure to come back to pick up my shirt after I've changed." And you did fully intended to do that if you hadn't run into the exact person your little delivery was for on your way back to your dorm. Silver pauses when he sees you, with a strange tight look on his face you don't recognize that doesn't disappear as you get closer. If anything it gets worse, and he doesn't snap out of it even when you're directly in front of him.

"Silver?" You try one more time and he startles, face slipping back into his normal listlessness.

"Sorry, I don't really know what came over me." So he says, but his attention remains firmly fixed on the coat even if his look is passive. "I didn't realize there were Master Chef classes going on."

"Oh there aren't, I just had a small accident." You say, subconsciously reaching for your sleeve as if you can hide a burn by drawing attention to it. It's a reflex, much like Silver's reach, his fingers careful not to irritate the bruised skin. "Silver?" You ask, trying to find the words you need to reassure him.

"I don't like red on you." He says, so oddly serious it takes you a second to realize he isn't really looking at the burn, no his attention is on your chef's jacket and it's offensive Heartslabyul badge. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me... I should be more concerned about the burns."

"Funny," you laugh ignoring his embarrassment "I think green looks nice on you."

Sebek

Sebek isn't very good at saying what he means. You know this, you love him in spite of this. It makes him feel very lucky, and he has no real problem telling people this. Silver was by far the person who heard him brag about you the most, even if he attempted to downplay just how happy he was to be with you it wasn't like he could hide very much from his friend. Which was what made this situation so... confusing. Hurtful even, Sebek doesn't have words for what he is feeling because "jealous" just feels petty but "distressed" feels pathetic. And he is neither of those things. In his opinion. Because being jealous is something insecure people do, and he is not insecure nor does he not trust Silver.

So why then why is he in so much physical pain?

"Hmph, I expect short sighted napping from Silver, but I was starting to expect better from you." Sebek can't tell who is more surprised that he isn't shouting, you or him. Hell, his tone is so normal Silver hasn't moved from his slumped position against one of the courtyard apple trees. You had been lying on the grass, waiting for him he knows as a fact even if his hammering heart is doubting it.

"Sorry, I couldn't wrap my head around some of the figures Crewel went over in class so I was up late studying." You sit up as you answer him, Silver's jacket falling off of your shoulders and taking Sebek's narrow gaze with it. "I guess I lost track of time."

"Did you ask Silver for help." It's a question but he doesn't voice it as one, there's genuine hurt on your face that pushes him back from anger into embarrassment and shame. You just look confused, looking down at the coat crumpled across your legs then back up at his still on his person and-

Laughing. You start to laugh and the lightest twinge of anger returns firmly setting his face into a cross between a scowl and a pout.

"H-hey I'm being serious. I'm Lord Malleus's retainer, diligent study is not something I will scold you for! I can help you stay awake!" His begging just makes you laugh harder, which should make him angrier but you're smiling. You are smiling and the silliness of the situation really settles on him. Sebek talks to Silver about you all the time, of course Silver would be just as worried as he would if he found you asleep on the courtyard green. There is no challenge to his honor or ability as a partner here, just the friendly concern over the partner of a brother knight.

"I know you are Sebek." You stand up, scrambling over to return Silver his coat before falling naturally into you place at his side and returning his smug pride to his posture. "Can I ask you some questions about those equations? I remember things better when I picture them in your voice."

"Of course!" Said voice booms back to life, the shout finally doing it's job in cracking Silver awake. "Make sure you don't take your eyes off of me for a second, Yuu!"

[thescarletnargacuga]

Maybe a showtime fic where Caine is constantly trying to either propose or confess to Pomni and he is failing miserably each time he tries….things eventually work out in the end…

A/N:awwwwww! Poor Caine lol

WILL YOU MA-

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none!

~

Caine hovered out of bounds focusing hard on his clasped hands. He wanted to make sure he fabricated it right, it needed to be flawless. His tongue poked out the side as he concentrated. After a few seconds, he opened his hands. A rose gold ring with a single diamond cut ruby rests in his palm. His fist pumped. "Yes!! It came out perfect this time!"

He grinned as he looked over his craftsmanship. This had been his fifteenth attempt at making the ring the way he knew Pomni would like. Simple and symbolic. Like her.

He flicked the ring into the air and snapped. A ring box appeared mid air and caught the ring. "Now, to ask her the million dollar question!" It's only after he says it out loud that it hits him. He was really doing this. He was asking Pomni to marry him. To vow to be his partner forever. He couldn't just ask. No, No, No. It needed to be SPECTACLE! She deserved nothing less, in his mind.

This would require a bit more work. He immediately went to the drawing board for a personalized adventure. He could make it amazing, yet still be sneaky about it, as they did this all the time. He quickly collected the data he needed and zipped away to the circus, where the humans waited for their daily adventure.

~

"Good luck, my wandering warthogs! Enjoy your adventure!" He sent the group off with a wave. Pomni stood behind him.

"So, this is unexpected. You usually tell me a day in advance when you want to go on a private adventure." She rocked on her feet, her hands behind her back.

"I'm feeling spontaneous today!" He snapped and another portal appeared.

Pomni smirked. "That's dangerous."

Caine gave her a winking smile. "Only enough to make things interesting. After you."

Pomni went through the portal to find herself on a quiet grassy hill. A picnic blanket laid on the apex with a bucket of ice and champagne. The night sky shines above with realistic stars, a faded milky way covering from horizon to horizon. Shooting stars occasionally flew by before disappearing into the darkness of space.

"Wow..." She slowly spun as she looked up at the gorgeous sky. "This is unusually calm for you." She arches a brow at Caine as the portal vanished. "You feeling alright?"

"I'm doing fantastic! I just- I wanted to do something a bit more... intentionally romantic. I have a very special surprise for you." The ring box was burning a metaphorical hole in his pocket. His code started to buzz with nerves, but this was no time for stage fright, it was showtime.

They sat close together on the blanket. He kept glancing at her, wanting to see her reaction for what was next. Fireworks rocketed into the sky, exploding into shapes and colors of all kinds.

"OOO!" Pomni smiled broadly and leaned against Caine's shoulder as she enjoyed the show.

Caine put his arm around her, holding her close. This was going much smoother than he had anticipated. He could do this. He could absolutely do this. He reached into his pocket and snuck the box out. It was almost time. He was certain he was going to explode or turn to dust from the amount of nervous buzzing he felt inside. His hand trembled and he tightened his grip on the box.

The fireworks made sparkling letters appear in the sky.

🎆LRWM REU IYAYL OM?🎇

Caine's jaw dropped. "What!? That's not what I-" He stopped himself, the surprise wasn't entirely ruined. He could save this.

Pomni looked at Caine. "What's wrong? What was that?"

"Uh! Nothing! Just some weird words, obviously! Nothing strange about it!" He was sweating. "Let me just, uh-" He fumbles the box. It comes open and the ring falls out, rolling and bouncing down the hill. "CHEESE AND CRACKERS!!" He takes off after it.

"Wha- Caine!?" Pomni stood, watching Caine fly down the hill face first after a small shiny object.

The ring bounced out of every attempt Caine made to grab it like it was avoiding him on purpose. It went into a lake at the bottom of the hill, Caine dove in without hesitation. The ring was swallowed by a large fish. Caine grabbed it by the tail and the fish thrashed him around, trying to get him to let go.

"NOOO! YOU CAN'T HAVE THAT!!" Caine flies straight up, taking the fish with him. He breaches the surface and shakes the fish upside down. "Drop it, you aquatic fiend!!" Eventually, the ring falls from the fish. He drops the fish and quickly catches the ring before it goes back in the water.

He heaves the biggest sigh of relief. "Let's get you back-" The box wasn't in his waterlogged pocket. He left it at the top of the hill. "Oh no! She'll see it! She'll know!!"

"Who'll know what, chief?" Bubble floated to him from the other side of the lake where the fireworks had been launched from.

"You!" Caine pointed an accusing finger. "What was that with the fireworks!? You didn't set them off in the right order!!"

".... Pyrotechnics are hard to handle when you don't have hands." A snide smile on Bubble's face.

"This is why I have to do everything myself..." Caine groaned and popped Bubble. "The ONE time I want to focus all my energy on her and not the world and everything goes bananas." He teleported himself back to Pomni, the water left behind.

Pomni dropped the little ring box in surprise when Caine reappeared. "Oh! There you are. You okay? You took off in a bit of a hurry."

"Yeah..." He clutched the ring in his fist. "I'm fine, there's just been something on my mind lately." He came down to the ground on one knee. "Pomni...you are the most wonderful person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I brought you here because I wanted to ask you..." He took a steadying breath, Pomni's undivided attention never felt so intimidating. "Will you ma-"

"Hey, Boss! I got the next round of fireworks ready! Do you want me to set them off now?" Bubble appeared next to the couple, grinning.

"BE GONE, PARASITE!!" Caine jabbed his finger at Bubble again, popping the knowing nuisance.

Pomni gasped. "Caine...that was harsh."

He groaned and facepalmed. "This was supposed to be perfect." Everything was ruined; the mood, the setting, his plan. "I'm sorry, Pomni. You deserve so much better than this."

Pomni gave a sympathetic smile and held Caine's closed hand. "You're right. I do want more than I'm getting right now..."

Caine internally cringed. He knew it. He messed it up too much. He may as well throw himself into the void right now.

"Caine, will you marry me?"

His eyes bugged out. "Pomni!? You- but I was- I tried- you want to?"

She gently opened his hand, revealing the ring. "Yes, very much so. I'm already happy to be with you, and I would love nothing more to spend the rest of my life calling you mine. So Caine, would you do me the honor of being my husband?"

Caine couldn't help but get emotional. He struggled to form coherent worlds as he was choked up on joy. "Yes, oh yes, Pomni! Nothing would make me happier! Please, allow me..." He slid the ring on Pomni's finger.

Pomni admired the ring for a brief moment before she threw herself happily at Caine, tackling him to the ground and attacking him with kisses.

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 11

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, arguing, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to military deployment, blood, medical inaccuracy, military inaccuracy

Jake’s Apartment, 11 Years Ago

“Don’t go,” Buttercup begged, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get deployed again for like a year.”

Jake shrugged as he packed his bag. “Something came up, and they need the best of the best. So, they’re sendin’ me, Javy, Rooster, Bob and Phoenix.”

Buttercup cupped her small bump, her ring finger glinting with the wedding ring he had put there only two weeks previous. The wedding had been a surprise, a shotgun wedding in the typical sense of the word, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The love of his life was pregnant, with twins, and was now Mrs. Seresin. Everything was coming up roses for Jake Seresin, and he was living for it. But the newly minted Mrs. Seresin…

“When will you be back?” she asked, her hand stroking her belly nervously.

Jake huffed a laugh. “That’s above my paygrade, sweetness.”

“I’m serious, Jake,” she swallowed. “Will you be back before the babies come?”

Jake paused. She was five months pregnant with twins, and everyone kept telling him that twins always came early. Would he be back in four months? It was impossible to say.

He turned towards her, smiling as softly as he could as he took her into his arms. “You’ll have Penny. And Mav and Payback and Fanboy and everyone else. It’ll be okay.”

She shoved out of his arms and stalked over to the bedroom window. “I don’t want everyone else. I want you. My husband. The father of my children. That’s who I want with me as I get all huge and can’t shave my legs and when I have to get poked and prodded at my appointments. Not a bunch of strangers. I want you.”

“I want you too,” he waggled his eyebrows at her, but didn’t get the giggling response he hoped for.

“I came here to visit my brother, but I stayed for you,” she murmured. “And now you’re both leaving and I’m going to be stuck here, useless.”

“Not useless,” he soothed, trying again to hold her. “You’re growing our babies. And if you ever feel like you need more, you could always go help Penny with the bar. But you don’t have to worry about anything, okay? I’m sending every paycheck home to you. The apartment is paid off completely, and the utilities come out of my bank account automatically. It’ll be okay.”

Buttercup swiped at her eyes and sidestepped him. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me, babe. Because I’m leaving in less than 36 hours and I’d like to know that my pregnant wife will be waiting for me when I get back,” he huffed.

“Of course I’ll be here!” she snapped. “I would never do that to you. But you’re fine with leaving me.”

Jake sighed and slowly walked over to her, hesitating only momentarily before placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m not fine with leaving you,” he whispered. “I feel like a fox caught in a trap, ready and willing to gnaw my own foot off if it meant the Navy wouldn’t own my ass anymore. But I can’t.” He let his hands glide down her body to rest on her small bump. “I don’t want to miss a second of this but I know I will. What I won’t miss is the birth. I swear to God. I’ll make sure I come home before they even think of coming out of their mama.” He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. “I’ll talk to Mav. He still has some sway over Cyclone. He can make sure I’m home, and that I don’t get deployed once they arrive. Not for a while, at least.”

He felt Buttercup shudder against him and was thankful that, this time, she allowed him to pull her into his arms. “And you’ll be safe? You’ll come home?”

Jake sighed and did the one thing he’d always sworn to himself that he would never do. “I promise, baby. I swear to God that I’m comin’ home to you.”

Cabana Bar, Hotel Zaza, Now

Jake held them for what felt like hours, until one of the girls started to squirm and try to pull away from the embrace.

“Dad…you’re soaking wet.”

Jake chuckled a little as he pulled away, stretching to his full height. “Sorry. I just missed you both so much.” He nodded his thanks to a helpful staff member, who handed him a fluffy white towel. “How…how are you here?” He blinked down at them. “You said something about a switch?”

The girls shuffled their feet nervously, but it was Buttercup who stepped forward. “You’re bleeding,” she murmured, gesturing to his soaking white shirt. Jake glanced down, noting the tear in his shirt and the red that was now staining it. Buttercup bit her lip, stepping closer. “What happened?”

Jake looked over at the bartender, who was shooting daggers at the lot of them, surrounded by shattered glass. “He stepped into my path and the deck was too slippery for me to course correct in time, so I bumped into him. I guess I took a few glasses to the chest as they shattered.”

Buttercup clocked the glares of the bartender too because she said, “Let’s go get you cleaned up. Then our daughters can explain themselves to you.”

Jake nodded, just as a shrill voice sounded behind him. “Oh my goodness, there’s two of them?”

Jake turned, finding Savannah clutching her chest, an older man and woman flanking her. “Savannah, meet my daughters. Abby and Charlie. And this…” Jake glanced at Buttercup with a look that was heavy with guilt. “This is my ex-wife. Their mother.”

Savannah gasped and leaned heavily against her father. “It’s alright, pookie,” the older southern gentleman soothed, his elegant wife fetching a fan from her clutch and waving it over her daughter’s wan face. “Let’s get you some air and some sweet tea to get you feeling better.” He gathered Savannah into his arms and gave them a reproachful look before striding off, his wife teetering behind him in her heels.

Jake couldn’t help the groan that escaped him. “Great…”

One of the girls bit their lip. “Sorry, dad.”

Jake shook off the weight of Colonel Beaumont’s glare and smiled down at her. “It’s alright. I’ll deal with it later.” He looked up and met Buttercup’s bright gaze. “You sure it’s alright if you patch me up?”

She rolled her eyes and headed towards the door. “I wouldn’t have offered if I minded, Hangman.”

Jake grinned and followed behind her, each of his strong hands resting on the shoulders of his daughters.

As Buttercup called down to the concierge to ask for a first aid kit, Jake settled onto her bed (and refused to think any further on that subject) while the girls stood in front of him and quickly explained everything.

The camp, Penny’s meddling, switching places, Rooster finding out, Bob finding out, their phone call to each other, their plan to corner them both here and make them talk to each other.

By the time they ran out of words, there was a knock on the door and Buttercup moved towards it, greeting the staff member who handed her the large white first aid kit. All the while, Jake gaped at his daughters.

“Well, hell…” he finally found it in himself to murmur. “That was some sneaky crap you two pulled.”

“Language,” Buttercup murmured softly, a small smile breaking out on Jake’s face.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he nodded as she laid out the first aid kit on the bed next to him. “I’m just saying, why didn’t either of you pony up and talk to us?”

“We were going to,” one of them started, a slight lilting accent to her voice, and Jake knew that was his Abby. They really were so identical (and Jake wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had no clue what his daughter had been wearing before she left the house that day or if she had changed when they got to the hotel), so he was having a hard time telling them apart when they weren’t speaking. “But we got scared.”

“You were both so sad whenever we brought up our missing parent, and we didn’t want to make you sad,” said Charlie, her young voice twanging.

“But when we met—”

“We really wanted to meet our other parent—”

“And we decided to ask forgiveness instead of permission.”

Jake shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know how you two pulled it off, but I’m impressed. Don’t ever do something like that again, but I’m impressed.”

Both girls blushed and nodded, both looking so much like him that he had to give his head a shake. They were incredible. They were his. And they were here. All three of them were.

As that thought raced across his mind like an off-leash dog, he glanced up at Buttercup, still standing before him, now with a fluffy white robe wrapped around her overtop of her soaked clothes.

“Why don’t you two go find your aunt and uncles?” he suggested, not taking his eyes off his ex.

Glancing between them, the two girls nodded and headed for the door, calling their goodbyes over their shoulders.

“Don’t forget your room keys,” Buttercup called after them, her eyes not leaving his either.

Once they heard the door click shut, both adults sighed.

“I…I guess you should take your shirt off,” Buttercup mumbled, staring at the spot on his white shirt that was slowly growing redder.

“Didn’t realize you were so eager to get me out of my clothes, Buttercup,” Jake quipped with a smirk, his hands going for the tiny pearlescent buttons. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gritted between her teeth, eyes casting downward toward the first aid kit.

“Why not?” he challenged, his hands stilling.

“Because I’m not…”

“Not what?”

She met his gaze again and he was taken aback by the fire blazing in them. “Because I’m not yours anymore.”

His whole body stilled. It was true, what she had said. She wasn’t his. Not anymore. They had a decade of memories separating them now. Separate lives. Lives that only included a daughter that shared half his DNA and half hers. He’d hated the custody arrangement, they both had, but it was the only thing that made sense with their schedules and Buttercup’s health. And now, there she was. Eyes burning at him in a way that he hadn’t seen since before the birth of their daughters. At least one thing had gone right in their divorce. His Buttercup was back and more fierce than ever.

“I know that,” he said quietly. “But you still have your tattoo, don’t you?” His eyes traced the stem of buttercup blossoms that peeked out from under her white robe. “Bob and Natasha still call you Buttercup?” She nodded. “Then I don’t see why I can’t.”

“B-because…because you’re you,” her chest heaved slightly, as though she was desperate for air. Jake stood and opened the hotel window slightly, allowing the fresh breeze to rustle the leaves of the fake fern in the corner. She blinked, staring at him as her breathing almost immediately came easier to her. “I don’t think your fiancée would like it if you were still calling your ex-wife by a pet name,” she mused, striding forward to grab the disinfectant from the kit.

“Savannah can deal with it,” he muttered, already knowing he was in for one hell of an argument when he met up with his fiancée and future in-laws later.

“You sure she’s mature enough for that?” Buttercup muttered under her breath, gesturing for him to continue unbuttoning his shirt.

He chuckled shortly, peeling his wet shirt off his tan skin. “Jealous?”

“Of you being engaged? No. Of how little time she has to spend scrolling to find her birth year? Maybe a little.”

Jake chuckled again, the sound warm and soothing. “I am sometimes too, I think. She doesn’t have to search long, meanwhile I feel like I’m spinning the wheel on the Price is Right or some shit.”

Buttercup giggled in spite of herself. “At least you finally found someone at your maturity level.” She leaned in and pressed a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic to the thin line that bisected his pec.

“Low blow, sweetheart,” he hissed.

Buttercup muttered a half-hearted apology as she found another cut, not bleeding but crusted over with dried blood and a small piece of glass.

“What do you two even talk about?” she pondered as she grabbed the tweezers, steadying herself against his abs, still hard and defined after all those years.

Jake sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable discomfort of having the nearly superficial wound poked and prodded, but it never came. As always, his Buttercup’s hands were soft and gentle with him.

“You really want to have this conversation?” he asked softly.

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “Would you rather we fight?”

“Why do those have to be our only options?”

Her steady hands grabbed the bandages and she carefully started to cover up the two wounds on his chest.

“Fighting was basically our only option there for a while,” she murmured, her body so close to his that he could practically feel her cool breath against his skin.

“I didn’t want it to be that way.” He craned his neck, trying to make eye contact, but her gaze remained firmly on her work. “I always hated it when we fought.”

She sighed as she made sure the soft gauze bandages were tight against his skin, her touch lingering slightly inches away from where his heart beat under his skin, before she sat back on her heels. “Me too. But—” she slapped her hands against her robed thighs before pushing herself to her feet again. “That’s all in the past. You’re getting married and I adore my job in the UK. The only thing we need to fight about now is how we’re going to split up the girls.”

Jake blinked at her. “You…you want to split them up again? What the hell, Buttercup? They just told us that they wanted a better custody arrangement.”

Buttercup flinched and took a step back from him. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that we need to figure out how to split our time with them so that it’s fair. Should be easier now that you’re not in the Navy anymore.”

He felt his temper flare slightly in his chest, but he fought to hold that mask of calm on his face. “It would probably be even easier if you didn’t live on the other side of the planet.”

Her back stiffened and her face solidified into a mask of emotionless stone. “Indeed it would, but I love my job and I could no more give it up than you could give up your ranch in Texas.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he kept her gaze, slowly raising from his spot on the bed. “No one is asking you to give up your job, only to move. It’s a lot easier to move as a writer and publisher than it is to move a whole damn ranch.”

“Author.” At Jake’s blink, her icy voice sounded again. “I’m an author, Jake. Not a writer. And no one is asking you to move the ranch. I would never ask something like that of you.”

Jake stepped closer, the two of them nearly nose to nose. “I know you wouldn’t. You’d let it all go before you asked me for anything.”

This time he did feel her breath puffing against his face, the air hot against his skin. “I learned a long time ago that asking you for something would only lead to disappointment.”

“You know it wasn’t that easy,” he bit out, stepping even closer, his hands coming up to brace against the wall as she stepped back to lean into it, lean as far as she could out of his space. “What you were asking me for was—”

“Impossible,” she whispered. “I know. And now you know that what you’re asking me for is impossible too.”

“Even if it’s for our daughters?”

The question hung in the mere inches of air between them like a gas, a burning, toxic, intangible thing that was slowly choking them both.

In the silence, he couldn’t help but trace her features with his eyes, and he knew from her unfocused stare that she was doing the same to him. He may be older than he had been when they met, but he knew he still looked good. Got confirmation of it every time he went into town and saw the local ladies. But Buttercup…she looked even better than she had when they were together. The beauty of her youth hadn’t dimmed with age, but only settled into something that spoke of wisdom and loss and pain and rebirth, a shining fire within her. Like a—

“Phoenix!”

Both their heads whipped around as Rooster berated Phoenix for slamming the door open and strolling in like she owned the place. Jake stepped back like he’d been burned, and Buttercup took his momentary distraction as a means of escape, ducking below the arm that had been keeping her caged against the wall and moving back towards the bed. She calmly gathered the discarded materials from the first aid kit and threw them into the wastebasket next to the small hotel room desk.

Buttercup glanced around, her hands busy repacking the white kit, when she spotted her daughters among the crowd of those who were her family, and those who used to be.

“Couldn’t you two pick something a little less identical?” she teased, taking in the matching black and turquoise t-shirts the girls were wearing.

“No, that’s the point,” they replied, in perfect unison.

Buttercup stilled, her fingers hesitating at the latch of the case. “What do you mean?”

Rooster nudged past them, clapping Jake on the back as he strode toward the mini fridge. “They heard you arguing in the hallway,” he whispered in his ear.

Shit. The last thing he wanted was for the girls to hear them arguing, and, based on the look on Buttercup’s face as Bob whispered in her ear, he knew she was thinking the same thing.

“I’m sorry you heard us fighting,” Jake stepped in. “Your mom and I…we’ll work out a custody arrangement that leaves everyone happy. I promise. Divorced couples do it all the time.”

“Yes, well…we want to be sure,” said the twin with the Texan twang in her voice.

“Charlie, what’re you talkin’ about?”

The other twin blinked at him. “But Dad, I’m Charlie.”

Shit again.

Buttercup suddenly stood beside him. “Abby, Charlie, stop fussing about.”

“We’re not fussing about, Mum.”

“Of course we’re not, Mum.”

Buttercup groaned, her hand rising to rub at her eyes in such a familiar way that Jake was tempted to run out and grab her usual migraine relief items.

“Girls, please stop messing around,” Jake begged instead.

“We will.”

“As soon as we go back to the ranch. All of us.”

“Once we’re there, you two can figure out the custody arrangement. Then and only then, we’ll tell you who is who.”

“And you two came up with this scheme all on your own, huh?” Jake crossed his arms, his chest stinging slightly as the bandage pulled tight. His eyes scanned the gallery of adults around the room. His friends, his family, all looked away from him, Javy looking all too interested in the piece of hotel artwork that decorated the wall.

“Girls, please,” Buttercup whispered, crouching down to look them in the eye. “This isn’t fair and you know it. We promise that we’ll figure out a schedule, but we all have to go home. To our own homes.”

“Auntie Nat already called your publisher and said that you were extending your holiday,” one of the twins shrugged. “And Uncle Rooster said that Dad doesn’t have anything to do this week outside of the ranch business.”

“Other than groveling with my in-laws,” Jake muttered.

“Speaking of…wouldn’t this be best anyway, Dad?” the other twin blinked up innocently at him. “This way our stepmother can get to know both of us. Build bridges and heal old wounds and that kind of thing.”

Jake groaned and ran a hand over his face before crouching down, green eyes scanning their features. He could’ve sworn the one on the left was Charlie, but had her hair always been parted like that? And the one on the right kept switching into a damn convincing Texan twang. But the one on the left seemed to be favoring her left leg, which would track with some of the injuries that Charlie had collected over the years on the ranch. But then the twin on the right started favouring her left leg too, and Jake sighed.

“I can’t tell,” he whispered to Buttercup, who looked horrified.

“Neither can I,” she nearly whimpered. “What kind of mother doesn’t know her own children?”

“The kind of mother who taught her children never to give up without a fight,” the twin on the right piped up, smiling brightly at them. “Just one week, Mum. One week at the ranch. We can go on the annual trail ride with Dad, and you can work on your book. You said the flat in London was stifling your creativity anyway. At the end of the week, when you’ve got a schedule for custody, then we’ll tell you who is who and we can all go home. One week. Please?”

“Please, Mum?”

Buttercup groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Fine. But whichever one of you is Abby is losing her allowance for a week for pulling another one of these stunts on me.”

“Same goes for Charlie,” Jake grumbled, his pointer finger drifting between them. “And you two!” Jake turned his finger on Rooster and Javy. “You’ll have to step up and split my ranch responsibilities between you. Y’know, since I’m going to be so busy with my daughters and figuring out a schedule.”

Maybe it wasn’t fair, but Jake had no doubt that his two best friends had something to do with his daughters’ newest scheme.

“I’ll call the ranch and get the house ready for everyone,” Jake offered. “We’ve got more than enough room for the four of you.”

“No need,” Bob piped up. “I’ll be flying back tonight.”

“And I’m going with him,” Phoenix added, shooting a look in Javy’s direction. To Javy’s credit, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Like hell you are,” Buttercup hissed. “You two got me into this mess, so you’re going down with me.”

Bob’s cheeks reddened and Nat looked like she had something to say, but with one more meaningful look from Buttercup, they both nodded.

“Alright then,” Jake sighed. “I guess we’re all heading to the ranch. God help us all.”

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[fairykazu]

sweet to dream with kaeya prompt: red rose - falling head over heels in love petunia - realizing their feelings content: set in canon, teens, mutual pining, lazy ending :( (kaeya) ( requested by @kukikoooo ) event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 genshin masterlist

kaeya

the strongest memory that lingered in kaeya’s mind was when he caught feelings for you. though, by now everyone knows since it’s his favorite story to retell when he’s drunkenly babbling everyone in angel’s share ears off.

he was dumb and you were dumber. you protest otherwise. it’s okay to be in denial. 

in the outskirts of the city, he was knee-deep in a field of windwheel asters begrudgingly. "why did you pick the hottest day of the year to do this?" kaeya grumbled, sweat beading his forehead as he trudged through the asters’ field. 

the air was humid, carrying the faint scent of earth and the distant sweetness of blooming flowers. his boots crunched through the meadow, each step releasing a subtle scent of earthy grass. the midsummer sun blazed down upon him, turning the once vibrant greenery into a dreary sea of orange and terracotta. 

name was just right ahead of him. they were like a little rabbit, hopping throughout the fields. they were picking the "best" flowers one by one, filling up their weaved basket to the brim. while his was barely to the amount compared to theirs or at least, in his standards, he was also picking the best ones.

maybe he was the winner here because his flowers were picked with the utmost delicacy.

"well, the flowers are at their best today. besides, i heard that eula managed to get wind-caressed asters for amber! …" name replied with a bashful grin, their eyes sparkling with excitement. kaeya quirked a brow while they trailed off. "ahem, besides, I want everything to be perfect for the windblume festival."

kaeya chuckled at name's enthusiasm, a hint of mischief dancing in his own eyes. "You and your flower obsession" he teased, poking at name's arm playfully. the two of them had known each other since they were kids. they were like two peas in a pod, sticking together while their friendship had endured countless adventures in mondstadt. "but i guess, it's a good thing, it keeps you from burning down the city with your cooking."

they gasped, nearly dropping their basket on the ground. one thing about name, other than the terrible cooking skills, is that they have the flair for the dramatics. they draped one hand over their face, “but you said you loved my rendition of mint jelly and that everyone in dawn winery liked it too!” 

kaeya’s breath exhaled a laugh, trying to disguise it as cough, as he picked another aster into his basket. “ahaha… i lied.” 

“it was really hard, kaeya.” they whined in response, picking up the basket and continuing on to a different patch of asters. they rested on a nearby tree, sitting down. name pointed their finger at him, “everyone ate it too!” 

kaeya’s eyes grew wide, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. he leaned against the oak tree, trying to keep his laughter at bay. "no, they didn’t.” he put down their accusing finger down as if it was a weapon pointing at him.

the both of them sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being the gentle rustle of the leaves above them. name paused, pointing another finger at kaeya as he let out a laugh. they poked him in the shoulder, “yes, they did. even adelinde praised me!” 

“i ate them all.” 

“what?” 

kaeya went on a tangent about how even diluc didn’t like the mint jelly even though the redhead convinced you then that you were a baking prodigy. name recalled the moment when they caught kaeya stealing elzer’s jelly, insisting it was the best jelly he’d ever had. but in reality, he was just saving people’s taste buds and their pride. 

“was it really that bad?”  

“not the worst, ive tasted. it was kind of toothpasty.” 

“fine, fine. how many flowers did you collect for the festival?” they dismissed the situation, maybe to shield their own pride. kaeya tried to read their face but it’s clear name wanted to move on from this topic. the eyepatched boy handed them his basket of flowers that were supposedly in the best condition. they brought the basket to their lap, digging their face into the flowers, checking if they’re “perfect” enough. 

 “i got a couple… wait, why did you even want to do this again?” 

they repeated the same reason as before, added, “just want the perfect windblume festival with my favorite pers…”  they looked up from the basket, meeting eye contact with kaeya’s periwinkle eye. but then they paused, swallowing the words. it felt like eternity or at least, the representation of seeing a text bubble appear and disappear in person, in real life. “people. y’know, rosaria, jean, lisa and you…!” 

maybe, kaeya is naive but is he picking up what they’re putting down. “i like you…”  he watched their expression carefully.

they furrowed their brows before realizing what he just said. kaeya watched name mariante what he said on their shoulders before they freaked out a little. well, a little is a stretch. they shrieked, threw hte basket up before frantically catching the basket and landed on their side. “wait, really?” 

“yes.” 

“really?” 

“yes.” 

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! Here is a guide to get you started, the summaries of each part of the story thus far, the complete collected text, and FAQ, all in one place. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!

✨Read the update for free on my patreon & vote on what happens next! ✨Excerpt below the cut.

“You smell like pussy,” Lou said. She knew she shouldn’t have. She was only poking the hornet’s nest, but she couldn’t resist. She had woken up from a dead sleep to an immediate fury she couldn’t contain.

“Yeah?” she said, sounding relaxed and unbothered. 

“Yeah,” Lou said.

Artie stood silently, walked to the bed, and leaned down over Lou, a hand pushing into the mattress on either side of Lou’s thighs. She brought her face so close to Lou’s that she could feel the warmth radiating off of her cheeks. For a second, Lou thought she was going to try to kiss her. She ignored the thrill that rose up in her stomach even as she readied herself to kick her off of her. Instead, Artie turned her face to each side and Lou realized with a twist of disgust that she was offering her a sniff. 

“Enjoy,” she said. It was too dark to really see her facial expression, but her silver teeth caught what minimal light there was in the room. She was smiling.

Lou dropped herself back down onto the mattress to put some space between their faces. Her heart hammered behind her eyes and between her legs. “You’re disgusting,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Artie said. She stood back up and continued to undress, completely at ease. “This might be my last fucking week on earth, excuse me for trying to eat a little pussy before I get my throat slit.”