#a meal too good to be simply eaten with a fork like normal it is meant to be devoured

[altaroftransexuality]

top ten breakfasts that inspire poetry

[aslitheryprinx]

What if in nom therapy au, as a prank, Tommy took a shrinking potion (and set up the ender pearl stasis) and snuck onto Wilburs plate? Would Wilbur even notice Tommy, or just swallow him before he realized there was something wrong?

We can say Tommy made sure Wilbur was eating something soft that didnt need much chewing if we dont want to bother considering Wilbur accidentally chewing on Tommy without being gentle.

Ooooh I love this idea! Honestly, I could see both Tommy and Wilbur trying to pull this on someone when they're tiny. I'll focus on Tommy, though.

It would definitely be a bit complicated to pull something like this off. It wouldn't work at Nom Therapy, of course, since you always expect a tiny in your food. At some point when they're hanging out, however, that might work.

Of course, Tommy will probably need some outside help to really get this prank to work.

______

Surprise!

______

Tommy felt giddy as he crept through Phil's backyard. He and Tubbo had been planning this prank for weeks. Phil was in on it too, of course, since it was his house they'd be sneaking around in.

The cover story was that he was at home being force to work on an assignment he'd put off. It was believable enough... he just didn't tell Phil that he actually was postponing working on homework for this.

According to Phil's mission report- also known as a text- Wilbur had laughed at his plight, not suspicious at all. Bitch. That was just one more reason to pull this prank perfectly. That, and he still needed revenge for the sauce incident.

First, he had to get inside.

Just like they planned, Tubbo was waiting by a window near the back of Phil's house, under the guise of using the restroom. He slid it open, and Tommy climbed through as quietly as he could. Tubbo had a maniacal grin on his face that Tommy matched, barely holding back his laugh.

He could hear the muffled sounds of Wilbur and Phil chatting a few rooms away. He dug the tiny pearl stasis chamber out of his pocket and handed it to Tubbo. His friend had brought the shrinking potion- apparently Eret made really good quality ones. Tommy took the small vial, and dumped it in his mouth.

The citrus flavor was a little more bitter than the kind they had at Nom Therapy, and Tommy grimaced a little. When the pins and needles started, however, it was much less intense. Huh. Guess whoever made NT's sacrificed a little bit of the smoothness for taste.

He hadn't even shrunk all the way down yet when Tubbo crouched down and scooped him up with a gentle motion. Even when rushed, he never moved quickly enough to disorient Tommy. Tubbo always handled shrunken people so expertly; it was easy to tell how used to it he was.

Once the potion had stopped and Tommy recovered from the effects, Tubbo held out the stasis chamber. He chucked the pearl inside, and Tubbo slid into a spare room, setting it on a dresser. Then he carefully slid Tommy into his pocket and walked back to the kitchen.

Tommy couldn't see where everyone was, so he had to use his other senses to guess. He could hear Wilbur a little clearer than Phil, who's voice was drowned out a little by the sounds in the kitchen. He assumed Phil was making dinner now. He mourned the loss of a chance to eat Phil's cooking, but he'd eaten before he came. Ah least he hadn't missed out on a Niki meal.

It felt like Tubbo was climbing up to sit, so he'd probably taken a seat at the bar. Wilbur's voice had gotten a lot louder; he was likely on the seat next to Tubbo.

Tommy played with the remote in his pocket while he waited. The stasis chamber he'd bought didn't have the automatic timer like the ones at Nom Therapy. A feature that fancy was a little out of his price range. It could still be activated by remote, or even just manually. It was probably better this way anyways, now Tommy could stay in Wilbur's stomach as long as he wanted.

This plan had been made very carefully. It wasn't like he could sneak around Wilbur's house while he was tic tac sized, so Tubbo was a necessary part in his plan. And Tubbo and Wilbur didn't hang out by themselves very often, so Phil got roped into the prank as well.

That turned out to be a good thing; with Phil's help, they could plan what food Tommy would actually be sneaking into. There was a reason noms were usually done in controlled environments. There was always the chance that since Wilbur might not notice him in the bite of food, he would just crunch down on the food... and Tommy.

Of course, Tommy would respawn, but that wasn't a fun process. An accident like that would probably traumatize both of them for a while.

But Tommy had been eaten by Wilbur dozens of times. It was a strange knowledge, but he knew how the man ate. He knew exactly the food that was unlikely to get him chomped. Wilbur had a strange habit of barely chewing spaghetti. Very often, he would simply slurp the noodles down whole. Tommy, who was often on those noodles or wrapped up in them, teased him about it. It was one of the few dishes where Wilbur didn't nibble on him for a while before swallowing. It was the perfect meal to hide in.

He wondered what was taking so long. It was hard to follow a conversation from inside a pocket, and he was getting bored. There wasn't much to do besides play with the remote. He'd started tossing it up, catching it with one hand.

Suddenly, his world shifted as Tubbo stood up. He fell against the lip of the pocket, fumbling the remote. It slipped out of his hands, and fell what seemed like hundreds of feet down to the floor.

Well fuck. Tommy sat back, embarrassed. Tubbo kept walking, so he probably hadn't noticed the remote. That meant he'd have to wait for one of his friends to manually activate the stasis chamber. He just knew he was going to be teased relentlessly for this.

He hadn't really been paying attention to what was going on; he'd heard something about Tubbo helping with the plates maybe? So it came as a surprise when Tubbo's hand suddenly came in the pocket. His fingers wrapped around Tommy, gently plucking him out.

He was deposited on the edge of a plate that was piled high with steaming spaghetti. He grinned at his friend before wiggling into the mass of noodles. He felt slight movement as his plate was carried over to Wilbur.

Now came the fun part. His goal was to go unnoticed as long as possible, preferably until he was actually in Wilbur's mouth.

It was hard to move around with the spaghetti curled all around him, but he managed to keep ducking back into cover whenever Wilbur scooped up a bite. During one twirl of his fork, Tommy took the opportunity. He grabbed onto the noodles, getting a couple more wrapped around him. He was on the bottom of the fork, so Wilbur didn't see him as he was raised to his friend's mouth.

Wilbur's mouth closed around him, and he pulled the noodles off the fork, Tommy with them. Like he expected, Wilbur didn't even chew, simply slurping the noodles down in one go.

Wilbur made a choked sound as he swallowed, and Tommy burst into laughter as he slipped into Wilbur's stomach. Their prank had gone perfectly, and he could hear Wilbur's confusion from outside.

_____

Wilbur liked spaghetti. Wilbur also liked surprises.

He wasn't expecting a surprise to be in his spaghetti. Of course, surprises were never expected but they were usually in the realm of possibility.

As Wilbur swallowed another bite of Phil's spaghetti, he felt something warm and squirming go down his throat. He nearly choked on the bite, shocked at the unexpected tiny. He managed to get the bite down, and he saw Tubbo and Phil looking at him with barely concealed amusement.

"I think I just swallowed someone," he said bemused.

Tubbo burst into laughter. He just stared at the teen for a moment, before he heard a faint laughter from his stomach. A very familiar laugh.

"Tommy?" He asked incredulously. This time even Phil laughed.

"You were all in on this?" He accused. Then his attention turned to the teen that was settling comfortably in his stomach.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

"Get pranked bitch!" Tommy shouted, Wilbur listening carefully to hear the muffled sound. "This is payback for that time with the sauce!"

Wilbur heaved an exasperated sigh. He a glare to Tubbo and Phil who were still giggling.

"Your face was so fucking funny!" Tubbo laughed.

"Wilbur! Ask if he got a picture!" Tommy yelled.

Wilbur repeated the question with a roll of his eyes. Tubbo grinned wickedly and held up his phone.

"Better, I got a video."

They continued to tease him through the rest of dinner. Tommy was a little quieter than normal, but Wilbur assumed it was because it would be hard to hear him with multiple people talking.

Once things calmed down, Tommy spoke up. He sounded a little nervous, and Wilbur frowned in concern.

"Um, hey big man. I uh... sort of dropped the remote for the stasis chamber before you ate me."

"You dropped the remote?" Wilbur repeated, worry in his voice. "Wh- do- do you need me to get you out?"

"Nonono!" Tommy protested. "I'm fine right now. I just... need one of you to get me out eventually."

Wilbur realized his friend was more embarrassed than anything. He laughed, poking gently at his stomach. He felt Tommy give a small kick back.

"Aww, and what if I want to keep you here for a while Tommy?" He teased. "It sounds to me like you're stuck with me for a while."

"Willll," his trapped friend whined. Wilbur imagined his face was bright red by now. He continued teasing Tommy, making sure the teen never sounded like he actually didn't want to be there anymore. Tommy remained comfortably nestled against his stomach, and Wilbur could hear the humor in his voice. A while later, once the teasing had died down, Tommy spoke up again, voice almost too quiet to hear.

"Hey, Wil, you won't actually make me stay here the whole time, right?" He sounded just a little vulnerable, and Wilbur put a hand on the outside of his stomach. He gently rubbed and felt the miniscule weight of Tommy leaning into the contact.

"Of course not, Toms," he reassured his friend. "If you really want to be let out, I'll let you out. Promise."

He couldn't hear a response from Tommy, but the small weight in his stomach curled even further into him. Wilbur smiled.

It was supposed to be a prank, but he'd enjoyed his surprise.

Nom Therapy Part 1

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Ask: 7 and 8 🌻

Hi @true--north and thanks for the ask 💖

At least, that´s quite an easy one, once I know which part to answer with.... 😅

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

This snippet is from my current WIP, which I plan to start posting from next week on. Of course, it´s a kristanna fic, "Never to late" modern/elderly residence AU (greatly inspired by @hiptoff´s "Cracking bones")

tags: finding late love, elderly people, friends to lovers trope

Anna Westergaard, widow, 81 years old, room 24 Thanks God the strict pandemic guidelines could be limited for the good and from next week on we would be granted to eat in the dining room again, together, and not secluded in our rooms. So, back to normal. The elevator was occupied and I didn´t like to wait, so tried to take the stairs in big leaps. Good heavens, just easy, step by step. Don´t get a freaking heart attack, it´s not worth the trouble. But it was Tuesday, and that meant it was chicken day. Fried rice with chicken, curry sauce and pineapples. I simply loved it! Good, second floor. I made it! Checking the system. Heartbeat? Not even that much accelerated. Fantastic! Joints? Not even that aching. Good girl. Head? Not swooning. Now let´s get to that delicious luncheon. Content with myself, I considered myself still good in form. So then, down the hall and swiftly to my room. There was no time to wash my hands in the bathroom. I was too hungry. Hm, it looked all so yummy. Funny, the chair normally stood on the other side of the table, and where had the nice tablecloth gone? Oh, surely the room maid had taken it to wash. Such a nice and considerate girl. Oh, gosh. That food was just so delicious. We were most certainly the luckiest people with that sort of 5-star cook treating us with his delicacies. I loved that meal and was indulgingly digging the fork into that chicken plate. “Excuse me! What are you doing in here?" I startled completely taken aback, since I had not heard the man entering, and the impression I got was at first intimidating, until I recognised him. The new neighbour. Mr. Bjorgman, if I was not mistaken. He had come to live with us about a week ago. Not that I had seen much of him until now. He seemed to live like an emeritus on his own. Of course, that was all up to him. But I didn´t understand why he would intrude my room like a steaming locomotive. Why that? “I beg your pardon, but what are you doing in here? I am just having lunch. Oh, dear, did you get missed out? That should of course not happen. Please have a seat, I can share with you.” “No! I have not missed anything. I´d rather suggest that you have missed something.” “What?” “Your room. It´s next door. This is my room, and my lunch!” “Uhm….” Only then, I took a better look around. Oh goodness. The grumpy giant was right. This was not my room. Wait? Was I that senile already that I have missed my own door? Okay, this was embarrassing, and I must have turned all read since my cheeks burned like fire. He must think me some demented old crow and on top of that, I have almost eaten half of his meal.

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

coming from the same WIP.... okay, like this it´s rather less an out-of-context spoiler anymore... but still.... enjoy...

One day, I had offered him a massage again. His face had been priceless, especially when I started giggling pointing a finger at him humorously squealing “got you!”. I believed that by now Mr. Bjorgman had got used to my inane behaviour and I in return did not need to pretend the gallant lady anymore. My inkling had not failed me, because he had then braced his arms, shook his head, and answered with a playful grin, “but I won´t strip for you!”

[chaoticallysapphic]

the great trial part six

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: you can really tell I needed to be held while writing this. Thank you @medeliadracon​ for being the best editor/beta reader ever

word count: 7.9k

                               3. Tell your partner why you love them. 

Spring is near its end, the days have grown hotter as the sun beats down on the metal city. And with the end of spring comes a special day, your birthday. In the last few years, it was nothing big, Kuvira would usually promise you something great one day like an elegant necklace or first edition books. Those three birthdays spent with her felt strange and hollow. You knew each time she got so caught up in it all that she forgot. Two days before your last birthday you even heard Bolin remind her. 

And whilst she's no longer constantly busy with the task of uniting the Empire, you didn’t think she’d remember. You also didn’t expect the guests that arrived later that fateful day. 

When you wake up, feeling slightly excited about the day, you wake to an empty bed. At first, that familiar feeling of panic (smaller than any of the others before) tightens around your chest until your gaze drifts to the open door. The morning light shines through the sheer curtains you had installed in the living room and casts Kuvira in an angelic glow. 

Her dark hair has been braided, the style reminds you of the day you met. She’s sporting a pair of shorts and a large sleep shirt of yours (it used to be your dad's) along with a pair of the knitted socks you got for Winter Solstice. You bite your lip at the sight as your heart slowly begins to beat at its normal pace again. 

Slowly sitting up you stay in bed with the blankets covering your lower half as you grab her pillow and hug it. Your chin rests on top of it as you watch your lover make you breakfast. Even if she doesn’t remember, this is already better than your last three birthdays. 

You don’t know how long you sit there and dreamily watch her but you do know that when she finally catches your gaze, most of whatever she’s prepared has been set on a tray. “You're meant to be asleep,” she says in defeat. 

You bite your lip as your smile widens at her words. She grabs the glass of mango juice she was in the middle of filling when she finally felt your eyes drilling holes into her backside and places it on the tray with everything else. 

Kuvira grabs the metal tray by the handles and carefully walks over to your bed. You place her pillow down and scoot over until your back hits the headboard. You help her set the tray down, not wanting to stain the sheets if anything were to spill. Spirits, you want to cry, not because of anything bad, but simply because you can tell how much effort and time was put into the meal at hand. 

There’s a stack of apple pancakes with a cinnamon mixture drizzled on top, the pad of butter is half melted and you notice the little pitcher of syrup set beside it. There’s a small bowl of chopped fruit along with a few pieces of perfectly cooked crispy bacon. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

Gulping you look into her eyes and say “you surprised me.” Slowly, afraid of knocking over the tray you pull her close so you can softly kiss her. Your hand is on her shoulder as hers are holding her up on either side of your legs. She’s leaning over the tray as she kisses you back with such gentleness that it makes your heart clench at the love you're currently feeling. 

Kuvira reluctantly pulls away, ever since that night a month ago that ended with you sobbing she’s tried to keep either of you from getting carried away. She wants you so bad, but it’s not time, and she won’t risk the delicate balance that the two of you have recently found. 

“Happy birthday.” Tears well up at her words as you let out a wet chuckle. Every little problem has momentarily vanished in this sweet moment. She reaches her hand up to gently wipe at the tears, if not for your smile she’d be worried that you were upset. 

“Thank you….” You look down at the meal before you as you pick up the fork laid out on a napkin. “This looks amazing, Kuvira.” 

You eat in peaceful silence and Kuvira moves around so she’s sitting beside you and has her chin resting on your shoulder with her arms wrapped around you, your back pressed against her chest. The pancakes are heavenly and you thank whatever force compelled Kuvira to start cooking because this is the best thing you’ve ever eaten. 

“Do you want a bite?” You cut a piece off for her and lift your fork. She shakes her head. 

“It’s for you.” 

“But have you eaten anything yet?” 

“No, but I’ll eat something after.” You raise your fork to her lips anyways, and she sighs before opening her mouth. It’s weird feeding her but you kind of like it, once she bites the piece off you lower the fork you watch her reaction. You smirk when she groans at the taste and before you know it she’s reaching for your fork again. “Hey wait!” 

“That’s amazing and I made it, so I deserve more!” 

“It’s my birthday breakfast!” You're both grinning from ear to ear as she tries to take the fork from you. There’s a dip in the bed as you both continue to struggle over it, she’s beginning to win and there’s this smug look on her features. 

Suddenly her eyes widen as she looks behind you but before either of you can stop whatever it is she sees the sound of Lily gobbling said pancakes up fills the room. Turning slightly so you’re no longer facing Kuvira you see that the plate has been licked clean as Lily stares at you both, her tail viciously wagging back and forth. 

“Well it looks like neither of us is gonna eat them,” you say, it’s still for a moment before you laugh and Kuvira joins you. Perhaps some other day you would have scolded her but right now you're too happy to care. 

You split the bowl of fruit and bacon between the two of you and make Lily lay on the ground to keep her from stealing anything else. Her long snout is raised in the air as she sniffs the bacon that you feed Kuvira.

“What do you want to do today?” She leans back a bit and loosens her hold around your waist. You bite your lip as you try to think something up, growing up your parents would make a picnic and take you across the street to your favorite place on earth where you’d eat amongst the flowers and spend the day basking in the sun. 

Unfortunately with your house arrest that isn’t possible. Someday you’d like to spend it that way again but with Kuvira there as well and Lily napping in the sun beside you all. But today, after everything, you just want it to be as peaceful and relaxing as it possibly can. 

“I just wanna listen to the radio and cuddle you.” Kuvira warms at your words, that’s a plan she can get behind. So you both force yourselves out of bed and place the tray in the kitchen. You turn the radio on as Kuvira lays down on the couch, turning the dial so the volume is lowered a few notches you climb onto the couch and lay between her legs. Resting your head on her chest, you sigh happily when her arms wrap around you. 

The afternoon is peaceful and sometimes one of you breaks the silence to say something in hushed voices. The windows and garden door are open, which allows a cool breeze to flow through the room and graze your skin. You're just about to fall asleep when someone repeatedly knocks on your door. 

“The fuck?” Kuvira groans out. She had fallen asleep some time ago and is being rudely awoken to the knocking. Your parents aren’t meant to come over until dinner time like Kuvira and your father planned, and from what she can tell it’s only midday. 

Reluctantly you extract yourself from Kuvira’s hold and head over to the front door, by now the knocking has thankfully stopped. Sleepily rubbing your eye with one hand and you open the door with the other. Once the person on the other side catches who is greeting him he pulls you into a hug so tight it causes you to wheeze. 

“Happy birthday!” Bolin lets go of you, causing you to stumble back two steps. Kuvira’s eyes widen as she sits up and watches him place his hands on your shoulders with a grin. “You’re one year older!” 

“You… Remembered?” Your brows are raised in surprise as you notice the large gift bag behind him on the floor. Meanwhile, Kuvira is debating going to hide away in your room, not because she’s scared of Bolin but because this is your day and last time they spoke he didn’t hold back his hatred for her. 

“Of course, how could I forget one of my best friends' birthdays?” You step aside to let him in, so he grabs the bag and makes himself at home by placing it on your coffee table. Kuvira stands so she can swiftly excuse herself but stops when Bolin sends a forced smile her way. “I thought I’d come to visit Zaofu and see you, plus I missed Opal.” 

“How is she?” You’re not a massive fan of Opal ever since Kuvira told you about how she acted during her brief time away, but you know she means the world to Bolin just as Kuvira does to you. You walk over to Kuvira as you notice her eyeing the bedroom door and snuggle into her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

Bolin seems surprised at the open display, to be fair he found out about the two of you right before he escaped and has never witnessed the two of you share so much as a hug. “She’s doing pretty good, she’s really happy to have her family all back together again.” 

You know that’s a slight dig at Kuvira but try to ignore it, at some point you’ll pull him aside and ask him to ease up on her, for you. “Are you… Do you wanna stay for lunch?” 

To be honest the both of you probably would have slept through lunch but with the arrival of Bolin you may as well eat, three bites of pancakes with some bacon and fruit doesn’t last as long as one would think.

“Totally! We have so much catching up to do anyway.” You help Kuvira heat up some of last night's dinner along with sprucing it up with spices and some homemade bread that she made the other day. Bolin sits at the table and watches the two of you move throughout the kitchen peacefully. 

You both are so used to this that by now you know when to hand the other a utensil or keep from bumping into each other while moving around. He never thought he’d see the great uniter in a kitchen, especially in pajamas no less. Kuvira’s hair is a bit of a mess from the nap and is half out of her braid, not that she notices and you're wearing her white tank top with light blue pajama shorts. Both of you are sporting socks and are the picture of domesticity. 

He notices how healthy you look. Those years on the train were slowly killing you, your lack of appetite and resigned demeanor had made you gradually disappear, it seems like he watched your soul float out of your body sometime after the engagement.

But now you’ve gained back the weight you lost, your cheeks are full again, hair shiny and you’re… Smiling. He’s seen you smile a lot, but he realizes now they must have all been fake because this one is so obviously genuine and nothing like the others. When Kuvira passes by you, a hand grazing your back to let you know of her presence you peek at her with a look so full of love. He wonders if Kuvira knows just how much you love her. It must be a lot by the way you seem so relaxed beside her. 

Lily trots in from the garden where she was most likely barking at anyone passing by and immediately decides that she must sniff this new person. She shoves her cold snout against his arm and Bolin jumps in shock, a yelp escaping him. 

Both of you look up at the sound and when you see Lily inspecting Bolin you snort. “That’s Lily,” you begin to plate the now warm kebabs while Kuvira scoops the Papaya salad into three bowls. “She likes if you rub the backs of her ears.” 

“You got a dog?” Bolin eyes the two of you, more so Kuvira than you. Kuvira has a dog? He must be having some kind of fever dream because nothing seems correct right now. 

“Yes…” That’s the first thing Kuvira has said to Bolin since he stepped through that door. To be fair her heart is pounding as she waits to see his response. You mean too much to her to mess up right now. She can’t ruin another one of your birthdays by starting a fight with your best friend. 

“Well, that’s cool! Y’know I might need to use Lily as an excuse to get one myself, but maybe a smaller one because I’m not home a lot and I could carry a small one around. I don’t think I told you but I work for Zhu Li now.” You bring the plates over to the table and help Kuvira with the bowls. 

The last of Bolin’s words perplexes you. For the most part, you’ve been sheltered from the outside world and its news since the hospital. The last you heard about Zhu Li was her marriage to Varrick. 

She sent you a letter letting you know and saying she wished you could have made it, but she understood that you couldn’t. “What do you mean? She isn’t Varrick's assistant anymore?” 

“Oh wow you’ve really-” Bolin takes a bite of his kebab and his eyes widen at the explosion of flavor in that one bite of meat, “been left out of the loop huh? Also, this is really good.” 

“Thanks,” Kuvira says softly. Another shocker for poor Bolin, she made this? What other weird things has she been getting up to ever since she tried to enslave them? 

“Well,” Bolin brushes off Kuvira’s words, and you sigh to yourself. “Zhu Li ran for president of Republic City and won.” 

“What?!” Your eyes widen, you drop your fork back into your bowl and stare at Bolin. “Really?” 

“Yeah, and she’s ten times better than Raiko. I’m… Well, I guess I’m her assistant now, so I don’t really have much time for myself anymore, but it’s a fulfilling job.” 

You reach under the table and search for Kuvira’s hand. Your fingers brush against hers before wrapping them around hers and softly squeezing. You know she must be uncomfortable right and you’re so grateful. This can’t be easy for her.

“How did you manage to sneak away to Zaofu then?” 

“Oh she gave me the time off when she heard it was your birthday, even gave me a gift to give to you from her and Varrick.” Oh wow, if it’s from the both of them it will probably be something fancy, but knowing Zhu Li it won’t be too over the top whereas if Varrick was in control of it you’d probably have something that could be seen from a mile away. 

“I hope I can see her again sometime, Varrick too.” 

“I’m sure if you ask she’ll find some time off. You mean a lot to her after everything.” After helping her escape, is what he doesn’t say but it’s what everyone knows. Escape from Kuvira. 

“So what are they like as a couple? It shocked me when I got that letter.” And so Bolin goes on one of his tangents about everything regarding the couple. 

Apparently, they both knew about their soulmate bond from day one but Varrick had assumed it’d be one of those rare cases where the love they felt was platonic instead of romantic. But he was just shoving his feelings for her aside, and she had assumed it was platonic as well seeing as he was her boss. 

Little did either know how wrong they were and spent all of those years together slowly, inch by inch, falling in love with one another. It’s actually kind of romantic, they were if anything, friends before lovers. Sometimes you wonder if that's how it should be. 

After everything you feel like just jumping into a relationship with someone you don’t know because of words on your skin seems a bit hasty and rushed. To become friends first, to slowly get to know another allows them to learn if they are right for each other. 

Just because the universe has chosen you as soulmates doesn’t mean you have to date them, many people, those who don’t feel romantic attraction towards others, form deep friendships with their soulmate. And others leave their soulmate because, even though their bond is deeper, the other may still be bad for them. You wonder if you would have left Kuvira if you weren’t so stubborn.

You understand that at times the universe doesn’t choose correctly but you think it did for you. Perhaps at first, she wasn’t good for you but the woman she’s grown into these last few months (almost a year) is thoughtful, caring, and handles you with the utmost gentleness as if you're porcelain. It’s a transformation unlike any other. After that first kiss, it was almost always rough and fast, you had gone further into the physical aspects of your relationship far before you even knew the basics about each other. She was all-consuming in a way that slowly sucked the life out of you but now she’s slowly filling you back up and replacing the cracked pieces of your heart. Pieces she broke. 

“I’m so happy for them, I know Zhu Li seemed worried about Varrick’s reaction to her return,” you reply after he’s done regaling you of everything regarding the couple. It makes sense now that you think about it. 

You think back to the day you helped her escape as you handed her the battle plans for Republic City and how you asked her if you thought a soulmate could forgive the other over a great betrayal. 

“Do you think, what with the deeper bond and all, someone can forgive their soulmate if they betray them?”

“I hope so.” 

Whilst you were panicking over Kuvira, she was probably panicking over Varrick. Then you think about now, about the therapy sessions and the months of not talking, of not touching. The fighting and tears. There wasn’t much for Kuvira to forgive but there was so much for you to forgive. How do you answer your own question when you still aren’t so sure? 

“Oh, the trip back to Republic City whipped him into shape, it made him realize how much he loved her.” By now you’ve all finished your food and Kuvira gets up to collect all the plates. When she passes by you gently grab her wrist to slowly pull her down and leave a quick peck on her cheek. 

She can’t help the slight flush that dusts her cheeks as she stands back up after the kiss and heads to the sink. You just want to try and let her know how much you appreciate her right now, how you see the work she’s putting in. 

Bolin gets up at the display and heads over to the coffee table where he left the big, dark blue bag. He brings it over to you and sets it down on the table with an excited grin. 

“Okay, so this-” he pulls out a perfectly wrapped medium-sized box, “is from Zhu Li. I thought you could open it first and then open mine.” 

He's like an over-excited toddler as he sits down beside you. Kuvira watches from the kitchen as you tear into the wrapping paper, it falls to the floor in small heaps that she knows Lily will try to chew. 

You rip off the last piece of paper to find a black box staring back at you, sliding it onto the table you gently pull the lid off. The first thing that catches your eye is a thin metal bookmark that resembles a flower with its stem. There're words engraved onto the side that read ‘Bravery is often found in the quiet ones’. 

You think back on last year, it was a terrifying time but the two of you, the quiet ones, were braver than anyone could imagine when it came down to it. That night helping her escape made you feel like a hero in a novel, well up until the adrenaline wore off on the ride back to Zaofu. 

Together you took out a general and six guards. She destroyed the mecha suits and you destroyed the weapons. At the moment you didn’t think of yourself as brave or courageous. You were simply trying to right the wrongs of your past, trying to finally be the person you hoped to be. 

Biting your lip to keep from crying you lift the bookmark to show Kuvira “now you can stop yelling at me about our books.” 

“You practically mutilate them with that awful dog-earring,” she retorts. She can see the glisten in your eyes, but she’s too far away to see the words engraved. Kuvira doesn’t comment on it as you blink a few times to wash them away before carefully setting the bookmark onto the table. 

Pulling your gaze away from the bookmark you look towards the box to see what else is inside. There’s something wrapped up in silver tissue paper so you swiftly pull it off and are met with a sight that has you giggling. In your hands is a book titled ‘Communication for Dummies’. There’s a card that slips out of it, it’s small and white, and when you open it up you're met with Zhu Li’s neat handwriting. 

The bookmark is to help remind you of your success, 

The book is to hopefully help you find peace. 

I miss you and hope you’re having a very happy birthday. 

Thank you for everything, 

Zhu Li Moon.

You gently place the card on top of the book and put all three items back into the small black box before placing the lid back on. By now Kuvira has walked over to help you pick up the wrapping paper, which you pull yourself away from the box to do. When you hand her the fist full of paper in your hand, Bolin slides the bag your way. 

“I can’t wait to see your reaction,” he places his chin in his hands as he leans forward in his seat. He’s practically vibrating with excitement so to help calm him down you happily open up the bag and pull out all the tissue paper he stuffed inside. 

Your fingers graze across the smooth fabric and you gently grip the material to pull it out of the bag. In your hand is a mint green halter top made of stretchy fabric, with furrowed brows you pull out the other item inside that’s a pair of matching mint green pants made of the same material. 

“For when you start dancing again,” Bolin happily explains. You look down at the clothes, before you’d always just wear a tank top and sweatpants like most of the girls there but some of them, the ones who had been doing it most of their life had special outfits for practice. “I thought the best dancer I know should have something to practice in.” 

“Bolin…” You want to remind him that you aren’t a dancer and haven’t practiced with a teacher in four years. Looking at the top in one hand and pants in the other reminds you of that first day sparring with him on the train, how he believed in you and your dream. 

“There’s one more thing in there.” You bite your lip and gently set the clothes down, at the bottom of the bag is a silver shoebox. Using both of your hands you carefully pull the box out of the bag and set it on the table, Bolin sets the bag on the floor for you and watches as you carefully lift the lid. 

Inside is probably the nicest pair of dance shoes you’ve ever seen. Made of soft black leather with laces down the center they have a strong grip on the soles and you run your hand over the bottom of them before looking back up at Bolin. 

“The lady at the shop said those are best for the flying stuff, that’s what you wanna do right?” 

Flying stuff, a wet laugh leaves your lips as you vigorously nod. Unshed tears glisten in your eyes as you think about how sentimental this all is. For the last few years, you’ve felt forgotten and unimportant, like if the wind finally carried you away no one would notice. Today feels slightly overwhelming all of a sudden as your grip on the shoes tightens. 

“Are they not the right kind?” Bolin’s voice drips with concern and all you can do is shake your head as you try to calm yourself down. A few tears trickle out from the corners of your eyes and you let out a deep, shaky sigh. 

“No these are perfect, thank you.” He stands from his chair and pulls you into his arms, the shoes get squished between the two of you but you don’t care. Neither of you notice as Kuvira slips into the bedroom, this feels deeply private. She suddenly feels like an intruder in her own home and sits cross-legged on the bed with her sketchbook in front of her as she waits for him to leave. 

When Bolin pulls away from you, he notices the absences of your lover and lets out a sigh of relief, sitting back down in the chair he helps you put all the gifts back in the bag for now. 

“Are you happy, Y/n?” 

“Huh?” You furrow your brows as you wipe away the last of your tears, you feel slightly silly for crying but you know he doesn’t mind. He witnessed you cry a lot on the train. 

“I mean it’s not like before? You’re happy, and she’s finally treating you right?” Oh. You think back on the times you’d start to cry during sparring sessions, he’d always ask if you wanted to stop but you’d simply press on. It felt better to punch away the tears than wallow in them. 

It is better, you think. You’ve known for some time that you both have made vast improvements and it makes you so happy to know that your relationship won’t remain such a toxic void, slowly sucking the life out of you. There was still so much left to do though. 

“I am and…” you smile, “she is. She’s been really amazing these last few months.” Bolin feels a sense of relief in your words. You were like a sister to him and it made him feel so much better to be returning to Republic City knowing you were alright. 

“Y’know I expect you to start writing to me, I can’t just come up to Zaofu every few months to make sure you're still alive.” 

You laugh at that. Grinning you playfully let out a dramatic sigh “I guess I can fit that into my busy schedule.” Both of you talk for a while, he tells you more about his job and you inform him of the thrilling development of your plants which has him laughing with how hard you try to make it sound interesting. 

Eventually, though he has to go. Apparently, he and Opal have a dinner date that he has to go get gussied up for. When you lead him to the front door he pulls you into a tight hug just like the last one, only this time, you’re able to wrap your arms around him too. You stand like that for a minute before he finally pulls away from you, opening the door for himself he looks at you one last time. 

“If you ever need someone, I’ll come as fast as I can, okay?” You nod, to be honest, you had momentarily forgotten about how much Bolin cared for you. It's comforting to know he still cares about you after this year apart during which you’ve stayed with someone he hates. 

“I know, thank you, Bolin.” He offers you one last smile before leaving, the door softly shuts behind him, and once more it’s simply the three of you in the apartment. Lily is napping on the couch and the bedroom door is shut, you know Kuvira snuck off at some point so you leisurely walk over. Upon opening the door you find her sitting at the center of the bed, hunched over with her charcoal pencil in hand. 

“Hey,” you lean against the doorway with your arms comfortably crossed over your chest. She looks up from her sketchbook at the sound of your voice, a soft smile creeps its way onto her lips. “How’s the sketch going?” 

“I’m almost done, ‘started working on it yesterday, so I’m mainly shading right now.” She sets the pencil down and pushes some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “How was your time with him?” 

You slowly walk over and climb onto the bed, you steer clear of the book and make sure not to look down at it as you sit beside Kuvira. Your fingers run through her hair, from her nap most of it is out of the braid and she hasn’t tried to fix it. You love her like this, when she looks so relaxed and happy. “It was nice, we mainly just chatted about our lives since we last saw each other. I missed talking to him.” 

“Those were some nice things you got.” Kuvira looks down at her sketchbook and picks up the pencil to twirl between her fingers.  

“They were, I wasn’t expecting that though.” 

Kuvira sighs, raking a hand through her hair she looks at you out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry I can’t get something like that for you today.” Or have ever given you something like that, she thinks in a self-deprecating manner. 

She thinks of all the empty promises on all your other birthdays, the way she’d mention one day showering you in jewelry once it was all over. You’d always tell her you didn’t need fine jewels, just her, but she still feels like a bad girlfriend for not having all of that and more to hand to you on a silver platter. 

“Kuvira…” You inch closer to her until your knees are touching the side of her leg, one of your hands helps tilt her head towards you so you can look into her eyes. “You could hand me a wilted flower and I’d love it.” 

She rolls her eyes at your words, but you pull her face closer until your noses are touching. “I’m serious, I’m really happy with how today has gone, I don’t need anything. All I want is to spend the rest of the day relaxing with you.” 

“I do have something…” She replies softly. You tilt your head in question and watch as she slowly extracts herself from your hold before moving over to her nightstand. She fishes a stack of papers out of her drawer, with her back turned to you, she rearranges them and makes sure none of them have been bent or smudged. 

Kuvira is nervous, which shocks her because she’s never really been nervous. The few times she has, she realizes it’s been about you. With a final exhale Kuvira turns around and sits in front of you. Your knees are touching, you can’t see what's on the papers as she holds them close to her chest. 

“It isn’t a ruby necklace or golden ring but…” Kuvira thickly swallows as she slowly lowers the papers, you bring your hands up to carefully take them from her. “It’s all I have to give to you.” 

A gasp escapes you at the sight before you, the first paper is of a panda lily, the lines are uniformed and perfected, there’s not a single flaw in sight, not even the shading is shoddy. “These are from the past couple of months, it starts with my first few drawings and ends with the more recent ones.” You’ve never heard her sound so nervous before. She tucks her hands between her thighs, her whole body tense as she watches you silently inspect the first drawing. 

Biting your lip you carefully set the first drawing down, afraid of ripping it. The next three are all of different kinds of flowers, you realize they are flowers your dad often brings over to the house. Each one is as perfect as the last, these can’t be her first few because this looks amazing, then again it seems everything Kuvira does is amazing. 

The fifth one is a bit different, it’s of you, sort of. You can tell she had a harder time with this one, instead of having the sharp defining lines and perfect strokes it’s a bit softer, you can see some smudge marks around the hair but it’s still you. You’re looking down with your hair pushed behind your ears, it’s a side profile. 

“That’s not the best of them,” she admits. You shake your head, delicately as if scared you’ll break it your fingers graze across it. 

“I love it.” The lump in your throat slowly grows as you sift through the stack. Slowly it’s less perfect, less inanimate and lifeless, and rawer. There’s a drawing of Lily on her back with her tail wagging that you know you’ll have to frame. 

There’s one of your parents, it looks like something similar to Winter Solstice as they sit next to each other with glasses of wine in their hands. Your dad has his arm slung over your mom's shoulder as both are laughing. There are finger smudges on the corner of it and you can see the happiness in their expressions. 

Next is you and your father filling dumplings, he’s staring down at you. You're grinning from ear to ear as you stare at the half pinched dumpling in your hands. 

Then it’s you and Lily with her sitting on your lap, your arms are wrapped around her body with your eyes close, head resting against hers. The drawing makes you feel cozy and loved like you're experiencing the moment she captured on the piece of paper. 

There’s two left. The second to last one stuns you, your grips on the papers tighten just a fraction as you stare at yourself sleeping. Your hair is sprawled across the pillow, you have a hand tucked under your head with the other outstretched, most likely trying to reach for her. There’s this content look on your face, a slight smile and a scrunch of the nose. Your shirt has ridden up and bunched just under your breasts, the curve of your body on display as the blanket rests at your hips. 

“When did-” 

“Three weeks ago.” 

You nod, wetting your lips, you feel tears well up in your eyes, you can’t tear your gaze away from the drawing. Your heart swells with love for this talented woman sitting across from you. Is this what you look like in your sleep? Is this what Kuvira sees when she wakes up in the morning? 

“You just looked so peaceful,” she admits anxiously. She keeps looking at you and then the paper, there’s one left, it’s recent but it’s different from the rest. This is based on an old memory, and she doesn’t know what you’ll think of it, 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe out, your voice shaky. This is too intimate to frame, you’ll have to get some kind of book or folder to hold this and any future ones for safekeeping. You aggressively wipe at your eyes, afraid of the tears dripping onto the paper. Carefully Kuvira extracts her hands from her thighs and brings them up to pull your hands away from your eyes, gently she wipes the tears away for you. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, you’re not sad right?” You shake your head in her hands, and she lets out a sigh of relief. “Well, there’s one left.” 

Thickly swallowing you nod before cautiously setting that drawing on top of the rest. Her hands move to run through your hair as you look down at the last one. You still in her hold at the image in front of you. Unlike the rest, which are clearly drawn from memory in house arrest, this one goes far back. It’s something you haven’t thought about in years, it’s of you dancing in the studio with the metal flower underneath you, petals open to reveal you mid twirl. 

You look different, younger, and stress-free with a determined expression. You vaguely remember doing this, it wasn’t part of the routine but something you sometimes did when you thought you were alone. Clearly, at some point, you weren’t as discreet as you thought with your private practices. 

Eager as ever you’d come to the studio an hour early sometimes to warm up before everyone else slowly trickled in. You’d run through the stretches Suyin taught you then practice any moves you felt insecure about, which was honestly all of them. The metal flower makes you flush as you remember your night with Kuvira, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it without feeling slightly scandalized. 

That was your first time, first kiss too. It was overwhelming but also so perfect, she cradled you between her hands like you were a delicate spring flower and watched you come undone so many times before deciding to show you how to pleasure her. You were exhausted when you both finally collapsed in a tangled heap and finally knew why everyone seemed obsessed with sex. 

“Y/n?” This time tears do fall onto the paper and you mentally scold yourself, you offer a weak smile as you let her wipe away the tears. 

“These,” you place one hand on top of the pile, your other delicately holding the last drawing, “are the best gifts I have ever received.” They beat everything you could ever think of. These are things you’ll hold onto for the rest of your life and will show your grandkids. 

You’ll cherish them for the rest of your life, even the less personal ones because it’s something she made, something she deemed beautiful enough to share with you. 

Kuvira doesn’t believe you. She’s sure your parents have spoiled you with amazing gifts growing up and can’t help but believe these drawings to be some kind of a cheap cop-out. But that smile of yours as you continue to softly cry has that self-deprecating voice quieting down. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something, it’s one of the things on Dr. Hanika’s list.” 

You hum in acknowledgment of her words as you pick up the stack from the bed and carefully clutch them to your chest. It seems stupid but these drawings make you feel more loved than you’ve ever felt before. 

“I know you can’t say it to me yet and I don’t want to pressure you.” I do wish you’d say it back, she thinks. “But I wanted to tell you some reasons I love you.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words, but she presses on. “I know we’ve had a rough start and I know I’m to blame for it but I do mean it when I say it to you. Because…” she takes a deep breath, “you are so sweet and caring, you treat everyone kindly but aren’t afraid to fight back when necessary. I watched you stand up for what you believed in last year and you did it so fiercely, without a doubt in your mind it seemed.” 

“You take care of those plants like they are newborn babies, so delicately that at one point in time I was jealous of the attention you gave them,” you can’t help but giggle at that, and she smiles. ”I used to get so excited when I thought about you growing up, I wondered what you’d be like, would you love me back? And then when I was sent here I gave up on the idea. It didn’t seem like I was meant to be loved by someone like that.” 

You move one of your hands away from the stack of papers and gently cup her cheek, she leans into your touch. Her heart swells when she feels your thumb gently graze her cheekbone. 

“I didn’t make anything easy and I think that was partly because I believed you were too good for me. I felt like a fraud at times but you’d always pull me out of my thoughts.” 

“You’re the only person who can do that. I think I’ve remained sane for so long because of you and I know if you weren’t there I would have gone through with my plan. I don’t know what would have happened but I know it wouldn’t have been anything good.” 

She wets her lips. “I love you even though you over-salt your food, even if you snore into my ear at night.-” You flush in embarrassment, your face tilting down, but she needs to look into your eyes for this, they help calm her. So she gently places her finger under your chins and lifts your head back up.

“You might be a bit messy or destroy our books, turn the music up too loud at times or drag mud through the kitchen but those are the kinds of things that make you who you are. Even if they drive me up the wall at times I still love them because you wouldn’t be the woman you are if you didn’t…. Take up most of the couch when we’re sitting together.” 

You can’t help how nice it feels to stretch your legs out, you think. By now there is a stream of tears racing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. 

“I love you because for some reason, despite me pushing you away all those years you’ve stayed. Everyone else ran away when it got tough but you didn’t even though you should have.”

“I don’t think I’ve mentioned how grateful I am that you’re giving me a second chance and I hope you know that I really am trying. Not because I want things to go back to the way they were or because I want specific things from you,” like sex,” but because I love you.” 

You can’t speak right away, that lump in your throat keeps you from forming any words as you continue to quietly cry. You know your face is probably red from crying and that you are such a mess. Reluctantly you set the stack of paper down to wipe away the tears. You take a deep breath to try and calm down, it works, sort of. 

“I know you can’t say it yet and that’s okay, but I wanted to tell you this and…'' one of Kuvira’s hands slid down to yours, she laced her fingers through yours and offered a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for being a piece of shit for so long, and I’m sorry it’s taken me four years to give you a decent birthday.”

“It’s okay…” you choke out. 

“No it’s not,” she quickly replies. Kuvira knows how you don’t like to hurt other people’s feelings, including her own. Sometimes you’ll swallow your own feelings down for other people, she’s witnessed it far too many times. 

You guys sit like that for a few minutes while you calm down, spirits you’ll have to put a cold towel on your face after this. She breathes in time with you in hopes of helping you calm down, it helps as she exhales with you then inhales. You could have used this all those years ago during one of your breakdowns on the train. 

“I do…” love you, ”and one day I’m gonna say it back but right now just know that I do.” 

It’s all you can offer, your voice is scratchy since your throat hurts from crying so much and it makes you cringe a bit to hear. Kuvira nods, she understands. That selfish, impatient part of her is internally yelling to finally hear it again, but she squashes it down. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent in each other’s arms, you fall asleep at some point and awaken to Kuvira gently cupping your cheek. When she tells you your parents are in the living room it surprises you, she lets you slowly get dressed as she leaves the room to go back to cooking with your father. When you look in the floor-length mirror in the bedroom you let out a content sigh as you brush your hand over the sundress you’ve chosen. Your hair is a bit frizzy, but it’s nothing your parents haven’t seen. 

When you finally leave the bedroom your parents cheerfully greet you with bone-crushing hugs as they rejoice at your presence. Both of your parents immediately keep up the tradition by retelling the story of your birth which has Kuvira awkwardly staring at the cutting board as she tries to bite down a chuckle at the funny parts. 

Wine glasses are pulled out, bottles popped and when the food is finally ready you move to the dining room table. It’s loud and boisterous and very similar to Winter Solstice except now the topic is solely you. It has you blushing, your head in your hands as Kuvira gets to find out about all of your embarrassing toddler stories. 

“How old was she?” 

“Four.” 

“She was four when she got a toilet seat stuck around her neck.” Spirits, you gulp down some wine. You can’t be too mad though because Kuvira is laughing, there’s a massive grin on her face. She loves this and hopes your parents never run out of stories to tell her.

 As they begin to tell the story of your first day at school your eyes meet from across the table. Their voices slowly fade away as Kuvira offers you a loving smile that you easily return. 

One day you’ll say it back, it’ll just take a bit more time. And at this moment you have a hard time not mouthing the words to her, but you’re not ready. You won’t push yourself again, so instead, you simply enjoy this moment, this quiet bubble you’ve momentarily created.

Today has been so perfect, it feels like one of Kuvira’s drawings, like it can’t be real. If you blink it’ll be gone, so you simply enjoy the moment with all three of your favorite people surrounding you. 

She may have messed up your past birthdays, but today might just be the best day of your life and you didn’t even have to leave the house for it. All you can do is hope for more mornings spent laughing in each other's arms and days where you can simply be lazy, especially as a major change comes barreling towards you.

[arahul-abyssia]

Festive

Writing number 4 for Nintember (@starprincesshlc , @jklantern )! To hopefully escape the pit of Emotions™ that was the first three stories, here's some hopefully much much much lighter, more slice-of-life-ish fare.

This does correspond to prompts 16-20, but I got caught up in Real Life for a while, so it's going up mega-late, and also it's kinda... abridged from its original concept, and less polished. 'Tis the way the cookie hath crumbled this year...

~~ Horse, Color, Hats, World, Music ~~

Layna awoke to a loud and repetitive hooting in her ear. She blearily turned her head to the side to find a pair of black-framed bright red eyes staring at her with interest. It took several moments of staring before she was mentally present enough to avert her gaze, sit up, and look out the window at the horizon. As she had expected, the sun had only barely risen fully above it.

She turned back to her greeter. “Relos! How many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up?”

Relos merely, and quite literally, hooted with laughter and flew off out of her room. Layna knew it was futile to keep telling him not to wake her, not because of any obligation or the masterful internal clock of his, but because he knew she didn’t like it and he was a mischief-mongering imp.

Normally, she’d roll over and try to get a few more minutes of sleep, but that day was the first of one of the best weeks of the entire year, and she didn’t want to miss a single moment. She quickly pulled herself from her bed, cleaned and dressed herself, grabbed the pack she had prepared the night before, and hurried downstairs, hoping to get through the delightfully aromatic kitchen and out the door before--

“Aaaalwaaaalrwaaa!”

Standing between Layna and the door was the soft pink-and-cream form of Infra, who was gazing up at her with strikingly accusatory eyes, her hands on her hips.

“Yes, Infra, I know I haven’t eaten.”

“Laaalruuwaar!”

“It’s the first day of the festival and I want to do as much as I can! I’ll get something from one of the vendors.”

“Luulrwarraalyaaa!”

“Ugh…! Fine, if it’ll make you happy.”

Begrudgingly, she returned to the kitchen and sat at the table, as Infra went to the stove, gingerly placed an assortment of breakfast foods onto a plate, and set it before Layna, smiling at her with fairy-pink eyes that had nary a semblance of her previous visage. Unlike the rest of Pokémon in her family’s home, who were all quite content to leave the human part of the family to do as they pleased, the Audino practically operated like another mother to her, as if she needed a third one on top of her human two (who also were often subject to Infra’s mothering). Somehow, she had learned how to do a whole plethora of human home tasks and chores, and she never let Layna leave home in the morning without ensuring that she’d eaten. An outside observer might wonder why a Pokémon was apparently her morning caretaker, and not either or both of her mothers, but with both of them having jobs that began long before dawn, it was simply how things were in their house.

She had to admit that Infra was a surprisingly good cook. This evaluation, however, was not based upon the food that she was at that moment rapidly stuffing into her mouth, but rather upon the numerous meals from days where she wasn’t dead-set on going elsewhere as soon as possible. That morning’s breakfast, while certainly of Infra’s normal calibre, was given no time to rest upon Layna’s taste buds, and may as well have been tasteless for all she cared.

As soon as the last bite of egg left her fork, she jumped to her feet, practically threw the plate and silverware into the sink, and darted for the door, calling out as she left, “‘Kthankyoubyyyyeeeeee!”

Infra was not impressed with her, as projectile kitchenware was dangerous and eating that quickly would likely give her a stomachache, but she’d have time later to worry about such things. Her next task was to prepare food for the rest of the Pokémon scattered about the house, who all were beginning to come to consciousness, probably due to the clatter of cutlery, and she set about with the same dutifulness and joy she always did.

Layna, of course, hadn’t even a single neuron focused upon Infra’s judgment, as she was far more concerned with sprinting down a steep road with wanton abandon, the countless colors and lights and tents and tarps of the festival visible in the distance. It had already entered full swing, always beginning with the dawn, and she wanted to explore as much as she could. She had considered bringing along some of the Pokémon, but not long later decided to bring them along later in the day instead. She did not know why she made this decision, nor did she care.

The streets that had been blocked off for the festival were already bustling with people and Pokémon alike, almost each and every one nearly as energized as Layna was. She promptly began to wander the streets, turning and spinning and looking about enough that she ought to have made herself sick, but this had not lasted for even five minutes before she was drawn to a larger vendor stall by an overpowering floral and fruity aroma.

As should be expected, an impossibly wide variety of flowers and fruits were on display, some having been made presentory and others still being attached to their plants, with countless more options upon the boards hanging from the awning.

“Well, hello there, young miss!” said one of the farmers behind the stand. “How can we help ya?”

“Oh, I’m just looking right now, sir.” She paused a moment, then was overtaken by a rather sudden curiosity. “There are so many flowers and berries here, how do you manage to pick and move them all?”

The farmer chuckled. “We have a lot of help, ‘specially around this time of year. Lot of it comes from extra hands, but it would still be impossible without the help of all our Pokémon, like ol’ Sitrus here.”

At this, he gestured to a Mudsdale beside him, which Layna had somehow managed to miss entirely.

“She’s lovely! And so… big…! I’ll bet she must be really strong, too!”

“More ‘n any of us could’ve expected! And she’s friendly, too; wanna pet her?”

Layna’s eyes immediately lit up. “Would I?!! I mean, uh, if she’ll let me…!”

The farmer laughed and brought the horse forward, and Layna tentatively reached up and placed a hand on her face. Sitrus took a moment to consider her latest contact, then, judging her satisfactory in that esoteric way few can ever decipher, leaned in to her touch. She giggled and stroked her a few times more, noting her fur’s strange combination of roughness and softness, before pulling her hand away. Sitrus, in turn, snorted a puff of hot air at Layna’s face before backing into the shade again.

“Aw, that means she likes you! Well, let me or any one of us know if ya want anything.”

“Will do, thank you!” Layna had no intention to buy anything at that time, not when there were countless other things to do and find and see at the festival. She proceeded to bury her face in several of the flowers around the stall, enveloping herself in their different, yet undeniably pleasant, scents, before scampering off to find some other point of interest.

She could have easily checked the maps of the festival area, which were scattered on boards and holographic signs all about the city and even available online, but this sounded boring and unfun, so she did not. Upon her winding, meandering, unfocused path through the streets were innumerable stalls and stands and attractions to take note of--more fruits and vegetables, tickets to special shows on later days, a ferris wheel to ride with someone else later, foreign cuisine and sweets--but it was not until she overheard the faint but unmistakable sound of music that she was drawn in once again.

Upon the boardwalk was a small stage with a frighteningly energetic group of musicians, surrounded by an even more enthusiastic crowd. They seemed to be in the middle of a rendition of a song Layna heard on the radio nearly every day, an anthem for Trainers detailing their goal to “Catch ‘em All.” She never saw the appeal--both of the song and of the objective--but it apparently spoke quite well to most others.

As they finished their performance--and on a much more somber note than the original song did--their main singer pulled the microphone from its stand and began pacing the stage. “I hope you folks are enjoying the show! Now, however, I’d like to take a break from the hype, and sing something a bit slower, something that’s… rather close to my heart.”

Layna watched as a Toxtricity--which had evidently been playing with the rest of the band, but which, just like the Mudsdale, she had failed at first to notice--stepped forward and began playing a slow guitar piece. The lead singer waited a moment, then began to sing a ballad in a tongue Layna could not understand. It was one she was certain she had heard before, but could not manage to identify it any way beyond that it was not the common tongue known by almost everyone across the world.

She tried to stay and listen, but immediately found that, beautiful though his singing was, she was not in the mood for slow music. Along with a small chunk of the band’s crowd, she turned and left, and returned to her aimless wandering and exploration.

Eventually, she found herself in a quarter rife with food vendors, most of whom had one or two individuals calling out and offering free samples. By the smells and descriptions alone, she was greatly tempted to take every single one she could. Of course, her mothers would likely have tried to limit how many she took so that she wouldn’t spoil her appetite for lunch, and Infra would surely have balked at the notion for the same reasons; also, most of the food in the area was rather far from being healthy. Indeed, she had significant reason to not do what she wanted to do.

However, none of those individuals were here to remind her, and as it turned out, the aromas were very persuasive. Layna marched forward and nabbed every sample in sight, only barely stopping to enjoy them before moving on to the next, and only doing so because of the crowds and lines slowing her down.

Her frenzy ended not fifteen minutes later, and as she looked about to find her next target of interest, she realized she had wound up on the very same street she had started on. Obviously, this would not do, as there were so many other, more interesting circles to walk in the festival’s streets.

However, with home being so near once again, she had half a mind to return to grab something to combat the rapidly rising sun, whose rays were just beginning to take too much precedence over the comfortable morning breeze…

“Twee-tweeoo-twrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

Or maybe I won’t have to after all!

A black-and-brown blur was barrelling toward her from the sky, making a frankly obscene level of noise. She stood firm and faced it, staring unblinking at the rapidly encroaching avian, before ducking at a perfect, precise, and repeatedly practiced moment. Like clockwork, Layna’s vision was shaded by an off-kilter hat (which she quickly adjusted), and the feathery form of a Taillow alighted upon her shoulder, whose face she began to delicately stroke.

“Thank you for bringing me my hat, Lond! Wherever would I be without you?”

“Twrrrt-t-twiii!”

“Wait, no, don’t tell me: Infra wanted me to not burn in the sun and you wanted to not be stuck inside with Relos.”

“Twrr-twrr-twrr!”

“I thought so… well, now that you’re here, how about sticking with me for a bit of exploration? I’m sure there'll be plenty of stuff to try!”

Lond pretended to think for a moment, then gave another enthusiastic chirp.

Layna giggled. “In that case, we mustn’t waste any more time! Onward!”

And with no decay to her exuberance, she sprinted off into the festival once more.

[noona-clock]

The Personal Trainer - Part 4

Genre: Gym!AU

Pairing: Junhoe x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,487

I’m just going to cut right to the chase.

You spent the next few months in denial. Complete and utter denial. About basically everything.

Unsurprisingly, hugging Junhoe after your meal had been the catalyst for this denial, and the thing you were actively denying was... exactly what your brother had suggested.

All of the emotions you had experienced in that five-second hug had made you realize maybe you actually hadn’t gotten over him and maybe you still did have feelings for him.

But you absolutely did not want that to be true. There was no way you could possibly even begin to think about it because if you did, and if you discovered it was true, then you would find yourself in a very confusing and complicated situation. A situation you really did not want to deal with.

So, you see now why you were in complete and utter denial.

Three times a week, you had been going to your training sessions. Maybe once every other week or so, Junhoe had convinced you to go to lunch or dinner with him -- never a date, just as friends. Your relationship -- friendship -- had progressed to a stage where you now felt comfortable with each other. The thought of seeing him didn’t fill you with dread or make you anxious. In fact, it was quite the opposite --

And back to denial we go.

Your brother, of course, wasn’t helping. Whenever he called you, you did your best not to talk about Junhoe, but it was inevitable that he came up every now and then.

Your conversations typically went like this:

“So, how’s personal training going? You’re still doing it, right?”

“Yes, of course, I am.”

(Your first two prepaid months had come and gone, and you’d decided to continue on for... reasons. Not just to see Junhoe. Why would you think that?)

“How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m still exhausted and sore.”

“Oh, come on! You gotta feel so much better now that you’re being active and taking care of yourself!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“...Junhoe is still your trainer?”

“Yes. Nothing has happened and nothing will happen. Harry says ‘Hi,’ by the way. He keeps asking when I’ll go on a trip next so he can go stay with his favorite Uncle.”

“I’m Harry’s only Uncle.”

So, yeah. You quickly changed the subject whenever your brother brought Junhoe up, and that was the strategy you were going to stick with.

It was also fairly easy to avoid talking about anything even closely resembling feelings or relationships during your training sessions with Junhoe.

You still thought about it -- and denied it, of course -- but there really wasn’t any room to talk about something other than exercising.

It was just the whole thinking about it thing you had to deal with.

But, as I’ve mentioned, you dealt with it by denying it!

That always works, right? Thoughts always just end up going away when you deny them enough, right?

Right.

Of course!

...Anyway.

You had been denying things for a good while now, and your plan was to continue denying them for as long as you needed.

Unfortunately, Junhoe decided he was going to throw a wrench in your plans one Saturday afternoon.

You didn’t know this beforehand, of course, otherwise you would’ve made up an excuse not to meet him for lunch.

Although... you should’ve been tipped off when he suggested going to the same restaurant you’d gone to on your first date.

But Junhoe had never had the absolute best memory, so you had brushed it off as him just forgetting that detail! Plus, it was a really good restaurant, and you hadn’t eaten there since... well, since you’d dated him. It definitely felt weird to go back there with him after all this time, but the two of you were friends now. You figured it was time to make new memories in old places -- friendly memories.

(This is what you kept telling yourself, yes. Friendly. Friendly, friendly, friendly, friendly.)

As soon as Junhoe sat down across from you, though, you knew something was on his mind. Something you didn’t want to hear, but -- as you’d gotten so used to doing it -- you denied it. You told yourself you were imagining things and went on eating lunch like nothing was worrying you.

That lasted for about fifteen minutes.

“Hey,” Junhoe began, his brow furrowed gently as he put his fork down on his empty plate.

“Hey,” you repeated. You crossed your arms on top of the table after pushing your plate away from you, and you looked over at him expectantly.

He waited a few moments before he met your gaze and said, “This has been really nice. Getting to know you again and hanging out and stuff.”

His words chipped away at your denial just a tiny bit, but you pretended they hadn’t. “Yeah, it has,” you agreed with a soft smile.

Junhoe’s expression turned to one of slight relief, and that, too, chipped away at your denial.

“Maybe I’m wrong, but...” he murmured, raising his eyebrows hopefully. “Do you... feel like... maybe... there’s still something --”

“Please don’t say it,” you interrupted, your voice just barely above a whisper.

“...Say what?”

“Whatever you were going to say, please don’t.”

Junhoe blinked at you a few times. “But... you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Things are good as they are right now,” you insisted, hardly even making eye contact with him. “Training sessions at the gym and the occasional meal, and that’s it. That’s good.”

“Y/N --”

“Please,” you urged.

“No, Y/N, I think we should talk about this,” Junhoe retorted, his voice quiet but very firm.

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about --”

“There’s nothing to talk about?” he asked with amused disbelief. “How can you honestly say that?”

“Because it’s true!”

“You really don’t think there’s been something --”

“No,” you cut him off. “I don’t think.”

It was the first time you’d denied it out loud, and... to be quite honest, it had been more difficult than you’d thought it would be. In your head, you’d been ignoring that something Junhoe was talking about for months now. You’d assumed that, if you ever had to actually talk about it, it would come out easily and naturally. So, you were kind of surprised that it hadn’t.

Before Junhoe could say anything in response, the server returned with your check. You quickly reached for it, fumbling in your bag to get some cash out so you wouldn’t have to sit and wait to get your credit card back.

Junhoe tried to stop you, but you ignored him as you slid the cash underneath the receipt, pushed away from the table, and began to head to the exit.

“Y/N, please,” he called out, though he made sure his voice wasn’t so loud as to bring attention to the two of you.

When you stepped outside, you felt his hand gently taking your elbow, and you knew you couldn’t ignore him anymore.

You whirled around, a deep wrinkle marking your forehead as you pleaded, “I don’t have anything to say. Please just let me go. There’s nothing to --”

“Okay, but I have something to say,” he declared. “And I need you to at least listen to me. You don’t have to respond. You don’t have to speak a single word. But please... just listen to me.”

You let your gaze fall to the ground, staring at it for a few seconds before letting out a soft sigh and looking back up at him.

“Okay,” you agreed.

Junhoe let go of your elbow, but he took a step closer to you, now just on the edge of invading your personal space.

“I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear this, but I don’t think I ever really got over you.”

...He was right. You didn’t want to hear that.

“I thought I had,” he continued. “Even after we started training, I thought there was nothing there anymore. That first time we had lunch, I really did want to catch up -- just as friends. But...”

Oh, no. Nothing good ever followed ‘But...’

“But now I’m not so sure. The more time we spend together, the more I remember why I fell for you in the first place. The more I question why we ever broke up. You’re such --” Junhoe paused to let out a quiet but frustrated groan, running his hands through his silky, dark hair. “You’re such an amazing person, and I -- I don’t know. I’m just drawn to you like -- like a magnet. I miss being with you. I miss you.”

His words almost physically hurt your heart. But, just like so many other things concerning your ex-boyfriend, you never wanted to admit it out loud.

You had broken up with him for a reason -- more than one reason -- and you didn’t know how things could’ve changed. You hadn’t been able to overlook how unbothered and unstructured Junhoe was about so many things, and you truly couldn’t see how you would be able to overlook them now.

So, you simply looked at him. You waited until almost a minute of silence had gone by, wanting to make sure he had finished speaking before inhaling deeply.

You opened your mouth to say something... but then you realized you had no idea what you wanted to say.

Was there even anything you wanted to say?

...At the moment, no. You needed time to process everything he’d said before you could properly respond. If you even wanted to respond at all.

You finally just nodded, tipping your chin ever so slightly and murmuring an “Okay.”

And then you turned to leave.

Thankfully, Junhoe took your response to his... I guess we could call it a confession, as exactly what it was: you needing time to process things. Needing time to think about things.

The problem was, you didn’t want to think about it.

You wanted to continue denying and ignoring. Your life would be much easier that way, and why make things more difficult when they didn’t have to be?

He didn’t contact you for the rest of the weekend, and even on Monday, he didn’t send you his normal ‘See you later for training!’ text message.

You knew things would be incredibly awkward once you got to the gym, but you were wiling to deal with that. You were prepared to show up and act like nothing had happened. And if, at the end of your session, he brought it up... you would simply tell him you still had nothing to say.

You didn’t care if that was a cowardly or selfish thing to do. I mean, you cared a little bit, but you’d already been hurt because of him. You’d already gone through so much emotional turmoil, and you really had no good reason to believe you wouldn’t go through it again.

Why wouldn’t you want to spare yourself from that kind of pain?

As you approached the front of the gym on Monday evening, you clutched the strap of your bag and took a deep, slow breath.

You just had to keep reminding yourself that the awkwardness of seeing him would be much more manageable than the pain of losing him again.

You took one more breath before reaching the front door, opening it, and heading up to the desk in the entry way to scan your membership card.

The receptionist greeted you cheerfully, as she always did, and you shot her a warm smile before making your way over to the personal training area.

Unsurprisingly, Junhoe was not there yet. He never was, and you were once again reminded that his tardiness would absolutely bother you if you started dating again.

But you wouldn’t start dating again, so there was no reason to worry about it.

After the first couple of sessions when Junhoe had showed up late, he’d instructed you to get on the treadmill to warm up while you waited for him, so that’s exactly what you did today.

You turned the treadmill on, setting it a very low speed so you didn’t work up a sweat before Junhoe put you through the ringer -- even after a few months of consistent training, you were still fully exhausted after each session.

As you began walking, you tried not to let your mind wander too much -- you tried not to anticipate seeing him because you would absolutely get too anxious if you did that. It would’ve been a good idea to put in your ear buds and listen to some music on your phone, but Junhoe would be here in a few minutes. 

Except... a few minutes passed, and he was not here.

You checked your phone to see if he had texted you, but he had not. You looked around the gym to see if you could spot him coming, but you could not.

There was really nothing to worry about yet, so you decided to simply continue walking.

You walked... and walked... and walked... and when a full fifteen minutes had passed, then you decided to worry. You still hadn’t received any messages from him, and surely he would’ve told you if he’d had to cancel.

After turning the treadmill off and slowly coming to a stop, you hopped off and made your way over to the receptionist.

“Hi!” she chirped when you arrived. “What can I help you with?”

“Hi, yes,” you answered, hearing the shake of anxiety in your voice. “I’m supposed to have a training session with Junhoe, but --”

The receptionist cut you off with a gasp. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot! He texted me that he’s going to be late.”

...He had texted her? But not you?

“He said there’d been an accident of some sort, but --”

“Accident?” you interrupted harshly.

“Yeah, he didn’t give any details or anything, but --”

You excused yourself, turned on your heel, and marched toward the exit.

As soon as you were outside, you fumbled through your phone to your contacts and pressed the ‘Call’ button next to his name.

With each ring, your heartrate doubled. And when you heard the first words of his voicemail, you weren’t even sure if you were breathing.

What was going on? What had happened? Why wasn’t he answering his phone? Was he okay? Why had he texted the receptionist but not you? Was he hurt? Was he on his way to the hospital? Why hadn’t he texted you? What kind of accident? Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering his phone? Why hadn’t he texted you? How would you live without him if something had happened to him?

...Oh.

You had not expected that.

Well, then.

Part 5

[argent-vulpine]

Getting Warmer

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Rating: G

Characters: Seteth/Byleth

Read it on AO3!

He hadn’t meant to.

That was the mantra he was telling himself as he fled the bathhouse, fighting the wave of embarrassment that threatened to set his face aflame. He’d gone in, mind still going over reports from the day, and hadn’t even thought about checking to see if the changing room he always used was occupied. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the bath at this time of night, truth be told.

Normally, Seteth was one of the last people for the day.

But normally, the students all went in waves after dinner. Normally, the professors had their own time slots after that. Normally, they hadn’t just returned from a grueling experience in the field.

Today was not a normal day. He cleared his throat, schooling his features into some semblance of composed, and decided to go on a stroll instead, firmly putting

out of his mind what he had seen.

Or trying to, at least.

He’d known that the young professor was an attractive woman. It was hard to avoid that fact, especially with the kind of clothing she was used to wearing. Not that her attempts to wear a student’s uniform were any better, frankly, and he was grateful when she’d stopped.

But at least she was clothed in those moments. Seeing her in a state of undress… he felt heat creeping up his neck and forced the thought away, focusing instead on where he was stepping, his eyes boring holes into the stones beneath him.

He was halfway to the main hall when a voice called out behind him. Calling for him, specifically. He turned, slowing as he saw who was approaching. “Good evening, Shamir. How may I help you?”

“Yeah, have you seen the professor? She ran off before she could be debriefed on the mission, but we figured letting her get clean first was fine… but that was an hour ago.”

It was all he could do not to let out a strangled cry. He was grateful for the high collar of his shirt, hopefully preventing the flush from being noticed. “I’m afraid I have not,” he replied, hopefully steadily. “Did you check the bathhouse?”

“I just came from there. Nowhere to be found.”

“Perhaps the sauna, then? I am aware she likes to frequent it after training sessions, perhaps a difficult mission would warrant the same treatment.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll try the sauna, and then her room. Maybe I just missed her.” She gave him a curt nod and turned around, jogging back the way she’d come.

Relieved that he’d answered her question well enough (and it seemed logical, truly) he went back to his stroll, very firmly shoving Byleth out of his mind. Again.

He ended up back at the suite of rooms that he and Flayn shared; she’d already had her time in the baths with her classmates – those who hadn’t gone on the mission, at any rate. She jumped up from the chair in their shared common room when he entered, setting her book down. “Oh! You are back already! And you… did not take a bath this evening?” she asked, confused.

“Ah, no, not yet. You know I prefer privacy, and there were others late using it.”

“Oh, I see. That is right, the professor and the others must have returned, is that it?” He nodded, and she bounced slightly on her toes.

“I hope that the professor will share with us what happened! She told me that I had much catching up to do before I would be allowed on the roster. Do not give me that look, you knew what it would mean for me to enroll in her class!” she added sternly when he’d begun to frown.

“I’ve spent such a long time protecting you, it’s… it’s a force of habit, Flayn. I will try to do better, I promise.”

She nodded, accepting this, and returned to her seat. “I take it you will be leaving again in a short while, when the bath is unoccupied again.”

“Yes, that is the plan.” He gave her a slight smile, taking up a seat of his own, grateful that she hadn’t asked any more questions. While he waited out an appropriate amount of time, he worked on the next of his fables, pouring all of his focus into that so that his mind would not wander elsewhere.

It wasn’t until he returned to the bathhouse itself that he found his concentration slipping, remembering the sight of the professor, still dripping from the bath and clad in only a towel.

He groaned softly, his head hitting the wall with a soft thunk as he tried to evict the mental image, but it persisted all throughout the process of changing and bathing, no matter what he did to remove it.

--------

Over the next few days, Seteth did his best to avoid the professor, determined to push what happened out of his mind before he saw her again.

Except that it wasn’t possible to ignore her completely. There were mission debriefings to handle, the newest assignments to give out, certifications to endorse… the list was endless, it seemed, and every time he saw her, he looked away immediately, focusing his gaze elsewhere.

It ended up being a long week.

He had just sat down to lunch, a little sad to see that Flayn had gone to sit with some of her new friends instead of with him, when he was startled out of his thoughts by a tray being plunked down across from him. Seteth looked up in time to see the object of his embarrassment and frustration settling down, her tray piled high with food.

Honestly, he still had no idea how she managed to eat so much, but he assumed her quite active lifestyle did require more fuel than his own more sedentary profession. He must have made some kind of startled sound, because she looked up at him, dark eyes scrutinizing. When he didn’t say anything, she began to eat, quickly but not sloppily.

He ate his own meal at a more sedate pace, but he also had less of it. By the time he was nearly finished, so too was she, though she had slowed down to a more reasonable pace at some point. Seteth glanced up to see her looking at him, her features impassive but for a faint furrowing of her brow. He shifted under the scrutiny, the back of his neck warming. “Is there something wrong?” he finally asked. “Have I gotten something on me?”

She blinked, then glanced down at her food. “No. Sorry. I was just thinking.” The professor speared a vegetable on her fork, bringing it to her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. When she’d was done, she glanced at him again. “You seem more stressed than usual, Seteth.”

“I, ah… well, it’s a very busy time, that’s all. With the White Heron Cup approaching, and the ball… there’s much to do.”

She nodded, understanding. As a professor, she had her own duties to attend. Finding a dancer for her house, getting them trained (and did she even know how to dance?), and myriad other things. Another bit of vegetable was eaten, her gaze leaning pensive,

though it was still difficult to tell sometimes. “I reserved time at the sauna with no one else around,” she said after a moment. “Would you like to join me?”

Seteth almost choked on the piece of fish he’d been eating. He coughed, sputtering, and took a few quick sips of water.

If anything, Byleth only looked amused by this, the faintest curve of a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “I like the quiet. I thought it might be nice for you, too.”

He hoped that he did not look as embarrassed as he felt. “Quite an unexpected offer,” he managed to say, chancing a glance at her. “… perhaps I will. You are right, of course, I have been quite stressed of late.”

She made a sort of humming sound, whether acknowledgement or agreement he wasn’t quite sure.

They finished their meal in relative silence after that, broken only by Byleth telling him what time she had reserved the sauna. And then she was gone, leaving him to stifle a groan… and the desire to bury his head in his hands. What had he done?

--------

That evening he found himself outside the sauna a few minutes earlier than expected. A small group of people were leaving, chattering away. Some glanced his way and gave him respectful nods, which he returned absently.

He was oddly nervous about this, but kept reminding himself there was no reason to be. It was just some time relaxing in the sauna with the professor.

… the professor he had accidentally seen entirely undressed.

The same professor who had just run up the stairs leading to the sauna, though she barely looked winded. “Oh! I’m not late… am I?” she asked, peering at the sky as if it would answer her.

“No, I was just a little early, that’s all,” he reassured her. “I believe the sauna just cleared out of the last group.”

The sauna master nodded affirmation, gesturing for them to enter. They split apart once inside, each going to the appropriate changing rooms. Seteth found a sauna uniform already set out and waiting; he changed as quickly as he could, though his coat did delay him somewhat before he was properly attired.

When he entered the main chamber, he saw that Byleth was already there. She had spread out a towel to sit on, and had her eyes closed, hands in her lap though her shoulders were loose and relaxed already. When he settled down onto the bench nearby, her eyes fluttered open, glancing over at him, before they shut again.

He could see the faintest traces of a smile. “Is something amusing?” he asked, shifting nervously.

The smile, such as it was, broadened a fraction. “You’re still wearing your circlet,” she pointed out, reaching up to tap a finger to her temple.

Seteth reached up then, feeling the metal band, and gave a soft sigh. “So I am. Too late to worry about it this time,” he replied calmly, settling into a comfortable position.

They were quiet for several minutes, simply enjoying the warmth of the room. When Byleth rose to add more water to the coals, he followed her movements through heavy-lidded eyes, admitting to himself – deep down, at least – that she was a marvelous sight to behold.

More skin was exposed by the cut of the sauna attire. Despite the appearance of her typical clothing, it did at least cover much of her skin. It was rare, then, to see the spiderwebs of scars across her arms and legs, the telltale signs of a life lived roughly and in constant battle. Her muscles rippled beneath the skin, drawing attention to the curve of her calf, her firm thighs…

… he stopped himself, flushing and grateful for the heat as a means to hide the embarrassment of it.

While he did trust her now, far more than he had before, she was still a professor. And… still human. Still young, by all accounts, even if Jeralt had told her birth day falsely… and he undoubtedly had.

He should not be having such thoughts about her. Not these, nor the ones that had plagued him since he’d stumbled upon her in the bathhouse.

“It wasn’t too much steam, was it?” she asked, drawing him back to the present. She was standing in front of him now, leaning forward slightly so that their eyes were on a level.

Seteth very firmly did not allow his gaze to wander to her chest, no matter its current position. “No, no, not at all. Apologies, it has just been a long week indeed.”

She nodded, but somehow did not seem at all convinced. Still, she returned to her seat, stretching lazily. Her breasts had already been pushing against the fabric, but the movement only amplified them, showing off their supple curves.

He bit back a groan and tore his attention away. There were reputations to consider, after all. Hers. His. The church’s. And she had given no indication of interest in him, nor anyone else for that matter. True that it was difficult to decipher her emotions sometimes, but surely if she had those sorts of thoughts, even she would have had *some* tell.

No, better to just ignore these thoughts until they went away, as they surely would.

“Seteth…” At his inquisitive hum, she continued. “You’ve been acting very strangely around me since I returned from the mission. Did I do something wrong?”

He drew in a sharp breath before turning to look at her. Her dark hair hung around her face, framing it. Her brows were furrowed, concern showing in the depths of her eyes though the rest of her face was as immobile, as impassive as ever. He closed his eyes briefly, giving a silent prayer to the Goddess, and opened them again to stare at her. “No, Professor, you are not at fault here.”

“Then why…”

“The blame is on me,” he continued, cutting her off. Heat crept up his neck. “I… was very improper, intruding on you as I did, and I should have apologized for that.”

She looked more confused than before. “Why should you apologize? It was an accident, yes?” “I should have knocked to be sure the room was empty.”

He could see the slightest shift in her features as she frowned. “That may be true, but you didn’t intend to do that.” And now she gave him the tiniest of smirks, leaning forward. “I think it would have gone differently if you had.”

Seteth’s jaw tightened to prevent it from falling open entirely. He couldn’t be sure if she was teasing him… or perhaps threatening him. Nor was he sure which one he would prefer… and that train of thought was further derailed when Byleth gave a soft laugh, leaning back in her seat, every motion showing self-satisfaction at whatever she had seen in his face.

She gave another stretch, humming softly, and then stood. “I think I am going to head back now. Thank you for joining me, Seteth,” she said.

“Ah… well, thank you for the invitation, Professor.”

Byleth gave a single nod, and was about to step through into the women’s changing room when she stopped, glancing at him over her shoulder. “You’re quite cute when you’re trying not to blush,” she quipped, not waiting for his reaction as she slipped through, closing the door softly behind her.

Only when he was sure she was truly gone did he groan, burying his head in his hands. He’d been trying so hard… and yet had she still seen right through him?

It wasn’t until much later that he realized she had called him cute.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 139

139

Cuba was loud. Loud and people everywhere. Lance had bugged him to call Shiro, his brother giving him a hard time for forgetting, but Matt had already called to let him know that he and Lance had a very... intimate reunion. Stupid perverted wolf. He was having a moment with his boyfriend, not some kind of scandalous tryst.

Lance didn’t talk as much as he thought he would. So Keith didn’t push it. He’d sent Shiro a proper message explaining Miriam had passed and that Lance needed a little more time before they’d be headed back to America. Matt had let Shiro know, but Keith felt like maybe that’d been Lance’s place to say. Shiro and Curtis sending their condolences. Each time Lance would point something out, Keith tried to take as many photos on his phone as he could, so Lance would have physical evidence to match his memories.

Stopping for lunch near the beach, Keith realised how screwed he would have been without Lance there to translate for him. Sure, there was English to cater to the tourists, but Lance made it look easy. Chatting away with the servers, swimming in the jumper that he was wearing. His boyfriend had already managed to get him new shoes. They weren’t shiny red converses with smiley faces on them, but they were sneakers because Lance simply rolled his eyes at the idea of boots in the heat.

Sitting across from his boyfriend in the cafe, Keith realising that Lance actually looked a little older. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but there was something there. Then again, he hadn’t seen his boyfriend’s face in the sun like this in far too long

“You’re staring”

“You’re cute”

Lance huffed at him. Keith couldn’t help how in love with Lance he was

“Can... can you maybe... not compliment me as much?”

“Nope”

His boyfriend huffed again. Did Lance think he was complimenting him to cover other feelings? Or was hating on himself so hard that he struggling to see how beautiful he was? All he had to do was look at Lance and he wanted to say nice things. The Keith from this time last year wouldn’t have believed it. He probably would have broken someone’s face had they suggested he’d be like this with anyone.

Forcing his attention to the meal, he wasn’t sure what it was. It smelt really good. Keith wasn’t sure about the beans, his diet didn’t consist of much outside green beans and baked beans. Baked beans banned because Shiro’s farts were no joke. Pointing with his fork, Lance explained what they were eating

“It’s Ropa Vieja. It’s very good. It’s mostly pulled stewed beef with veggies”

“I don’t think I’ve even heard of it”

“You missed out. Mami used to make a mean ropa. It’s like Cuba’s number one dish and she would come back and murder me if you didn’t try it at least once”

Lance was right, Keith’s eyes widened at the first taste of beef, scoffing down a second forkful. Lance seemed to find it funny enough that he laughed. An actual, proper, barking laugh where he scrunched his face up and people stared. Swallowing quickly, he got hit with the heat of the spices, Lance’s shoulders were shaking with laughter

“What’s so funny?”

“I told you it was good and you still looked like you’d come in your pants at the first bite”

“It is good... Wait, are you trying to say I make weird faces during sex?”

“You make very manly and sexy faces... but that face was gold”

Keith pulled his phone out his pocket, snapping a photo of Lance who sobered as he drew his brow realising what Keith had done. It’d make the perfect proof of life photo for Pidge

“Did you just take a photo?”

“You mocked my “oh” face”

“You have a many manly sex face. Just be careful with where you’re taking photos”

That was thing? Then again, there kind of seemed like a vague memory that maybe a thing

“I didn’t think about that. It was nice seeing you laugh, even it was at me”

He had no idea of the etiquette of Cuba, probably acting like the dumb America tourist he was

“It’s fine here. Mami and I came here a bit on the way too and from the hotel. On Wednesday’s they clear out the tables at night and they have dances”

“I bet Mami loved that”

“She did. We mostly shuffled on the spot but she said it reminded her of when Papi took her dancing. It’s weird when your mum gropes your butt”

“I bet she winked too”

“Yep. I wish I’d come back here sooner with her. I feel like I wasted time not”

“Nah, I’m sure she was happy. Oh, I better text Pidge and Hunk. Is there anything you want me to say?”

“Just tell them I miss them. I do... miss them I mean, but at this stage I’m not sure how to face them”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here. Coran kept getting pushed out the way so Pidge could talk to me. He actually looked annoyed”

“He’s got a hard enough job. He paid for all of this. I mean, I know he used funds from VOLTRON, but that hotel isn’t cheap...”

“He did it because he loves you. I’m sure there’s plenty of funding, and I’m sure there’s things you haven’t cashed in on because you didn’t want to make a fuss”

“He did try to give me my blood for free... I feel better when I’m paying. More independent and not like a teen getting money from dad”

“See. There you go. This is like really good, can you make this at home?”

“You want me to?”

“Heck yes. Don’t get me wrong, Rome is like a food lovers paradise but pasta gets sooooo repetitive”

“You better make the most of it. There’s still a lot of dishes to try”

“What about going out for dinner? With Matt and Rieva?”

Lance fumbled his fork. Keith kicking himself but the words had slipped out

“I’m... I was really rude to them”

“I doubt they care”

“I care. I ran the first time I saw them”

Keith raised an eyebrow at the thought of a pregnant Lance thinking he could leg it from two werewolves. His boyfriend had zero chance

“Babe, they missed you”

“They’ll want to talk about what happened and I’m... telling you is...”

Right. Lance was still trying to tell him what he could, how he could...

“... telling you is because she saw you as her son. Telling them, I just... it’s harder”

“We don’t have to tell them the things you’re not comfortable with. If we have dinner, we can go after... but it’ll be a good step”

“What if they can’t forgive me?”

“The only person who can’t forgive you is you. Just put it in the back of your mind”

“I’ve been thinking about it too much...”

“I’m shocked you’d over think anything ever”

“Now you’re being mean”

“You still love me. Seriously though, this is really good. Can I help you make it?”

He was going to text Pidge but his food was too appealing. Shovelling down another forkful, Lance swallowed as he watched him, seeming a little flustered. Keith wished he knew what kind of expression he was showing the man he loved

“Uh. I guess... we should eat. We’re heading back to the hotel after this. I can’t seem to make it through without my afternoon nap”

“I’ve deprived you of your morning nap, haven’t I?”

“Yeah... and my morning self wallowing”

“I’m like the worst boyfriend ever”

“Nah. You’re pretty much the best I’ve ever had”

It took Keith a long moment. His heart filled with pride at the praise until he realised he was the only boyfriend Lance ever had. Lance chuckled when the realisation hit him, Keith kicking him lightly under the table. His boyfriend was a brat.

*

When Lance went down for a nap, Keith was shooed off to let him sleep. The cafe was the perfect distance back to the hotel for Lance to have processed eating and be needing to throw it back up. The vampire had eaten enough human food to rival Matt. Keith could keep up, though he tried. Everything tasted amazing, and all he wanted to do was bask in his food coma, then Lance had kicked him out because his hand had slipped a little too low rubbing his boyfriend’s belly. It wasn’t his fault he loved feeling the swell... Lance didn’t trust him to behave. Lance declaring his arse off limits.

Throwing himself down on the sofa in the living area, he was bored already. He’d messaged chat rather than just Pidge, then avoided checking the messages he got in reply. Shay knew he was in Rome for work, and that Lance was on holiday visiting family with his grandmother. Their chat looked rather sad. Shay had expressed her condolences, which Keith accepted on Lance’s behalf. He didn’t have much to do on his own. People were tiring, the noise reaching the hotel room through Lance’s still open bedroom door. If they were going out to dinner, he really should make the effort with Matt and Rieva. Lance was sleeping and he was sure the pair would let him know if Lance needed him back.

Doing what any normal person would do, Keith climbed over to their balcony, knocking on the back door rather than going out into the hall and all the way around. Rieva opened the door with a laugh

“We were wondering how long it’d be before you came over. Couldn’t take the front door?”

“Too much like effort”

“Fair enough. Come in. Mi casa es su casa. Matt, Keith’s here!”

Their hotel room was as nice as Lance’s, decorated the same, complete with clothes everywhere. Keith ignore the thin lace thong hanging off the corner of the sofa as he stood there with his hands in his pockets

“I know Keith’s here! I heard him!”

Matt was rubbing sunscreen on as he came out of his and Rieva’s room. The werewolf having either squeezed too much out, or accidentally burst the tube. The second option seemed more likely seeing it was in his hair. Rieva laughed at her boyfriend, walking over to him. Keith thought she was going to help with the mess until she drew a dick on Matt’s chest. Matt rolling his eyes at her as he smeared sunscreen across the outline to erase it

“Anyway, what brings you over? I didn’t think you wanted to be balcony buddies”

“Leave him alone. You know he only arrived last night”

“He did? Really... Hey!”

Keith snorted as Rieva slapped her boyfriend hard enough for Matt to double over

“Ignore him. I told him we’d go to the pool and he’s been acting like a hyperactive child since”

“Who says I’m not a hyperactive child in disguise?”

Rieva smacked him again

“It would explain so much. Anyway, how is Lance? We saw you two left earlier?”

Keith shrugged, it was really awkward standing there with lingerie just laying around

“About as well as can be expected. Convinced himself that he needs to be strong for everyone else. He’s worked himself up about being rude to you”

Matt huffed, giving up on rubbing in the sunscreen in favour of wiping it on Rieva’s arm. Both werewolves had new scars. Making a face as Rieva wiped sunscreen back on him, Matt sounded as chill as expected

“Lance is “bro-dude” for life. He gets the only free passes we give”

“We really do owe him so much. Garrison is such a lovely town. My boss even let me keep my job despite everything. Now we just need to turn Matt into a respectable member of society”

“I am pretty respectable... This sunscreen is awful”

“As awful as those dead things we found on the beach?”

Matt lit up

“I forgot about those! Hang on...”

Dripping sunscreen from his hair, Matt jogged back into the bedroom. Rieva seemed to know what was happening here.. he was sure he hadn’t missed a hint

“What’s he doing?”

Why was he questioning Matt’s action. He was weird as hell every day of the damn week

“You’ll see”

What was that supposed to mean? Matt calling out

“We found these last night. We thought something had washed up dead on the beach... like a whale or something because there’s sharks and the stench. Anyway, we thought you’d find it interesting”

Coming out with his red converses, Keith could have hugged Matt

“I thought I’d lost them!”

“You would have if we hadn’t been making sure you and Lance were okay. Rieva stopped me from rolling in them...”

“They’re new!”

“They still smell like your feet! And where is the thank you?”

“Thanks guys! Lance had to pretty much organise a new pair for me... you guys are awesome!”

“You’re lucky someone didn’t steal them. Don’t go leaving them around again”

Handing his shoes over, Keith really could have kissed Matt. Finally his stalkerish ways were beneficial

“I had to stop Matt from rolling on them last night. You can take the wolf out of the country, but that doesn’t make him civilised”

“I’m just happy he didn’t chew them... Any way, I wanted to know if you two wanted to go out for dinner with me and Lance tonight? It’s nothing special, and Mami is kind of... he’s still processing. He goes from not being able to say a thing to telling me all about their trip”

“We’d love to. Do you want to come down to the pool with us?”

He’d love to... but he should get back to Lance. Lance had had long enough to fall asleep and he wanted to show him the smiley faces on his shoes...

“I better head back, but I totally owe you for saving my shoes”

“You can pick up tonight’s drink tab...”

“Not with the way you drink. That bill would be higher than both sets of sneakers...”

Matt huffed at him, crossing his arms and channeling the most “Pidge look” he could... Failing on account of the sunscreen

“Cheapskate. Fine. Go back to Lance. We won’t be hurt that you’re bailing on us”

Pidge would have been much more aggressive, with more threats of “ankle biting” or “dick punching”

“It’s only until tonight... I know he’s been... well, Lance, but I’m glad you guys came down here to be here”

Rieva seemed to have “baby fever”

“We couldn’t leave him alone. Did you see how big he’s gotten!? I can’t wait to see the twins... he looks so cute!”

“Careful, babe. Keith might stab you if you make a move on Lance”

“I missed him! Plus werewolves love pups... I can’t wait to see the nursery... you are living in Garrison, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s the plan. Shiro and Curtis are going to live in Platt...”

Matt rolled his eyes

“They should just move out to Garrison. Curtis is going to have fun with those horns of his”

Coran was going to have a proper look at Curtis when he returned. Breaking his horn had had affected his quintessence, now he had two... It was science and quintessence stuff above him

“Yeah. Anyway, thanks for this. I’ll just hop back over the balcony. See you guys later”

*

Lance was still awake when Keith came back with his shoes. Leaving them in the living area, Keith washed his hands then headed into Lance’s room, Lance raising his head to smile at him

“Have fun?”

“I thought you were sleeping”

“I heard you go...”

“I didn’t want to disturb you sleeping”

“It’s fine... they’re your friends”

Moving over to Lance’s bed, Keith pulled his shirt off before climbing under the covers in with his boyfriend. Spooning up around him, Lance rolled over onto his back, biting his lip as he did

“What’s up?”

“Nothing... just wanted to look at you”

Tucking back a stray curl behind Lance’s ear, he realised his boyfriend had a few small grey hairs. Lance had lamented the lack of grey in his hair...

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got grey hairs...”

He expected Lance to shoot up and rush to check. Instead his boyfriend nodded

“Yeah. I look a little older too... Coran pointed it out. He said it’s because so much energy is going into the pregnancy”

“Are you okay? Are the twins okay?”

“I... yeah”

Lance wasn’t telling him everything. He could tell. Gone was the Keith that didn’t pick up on social cues

“Babe, there’s something you’re holding back”

“If I tell you, you’ll hate me”

“That’s impossible. Is it to do with the bleed? Is there some kind of complication?”

“It’s... kind of Coran trying to work things out as it progresses. He said some things, that he’s only guessing... he said I might not carry to full term. That they could be born early. I mean, twins usually are. But another bleed could bad... like actually really bad. He did some genetic testing too... that was scary. A big huge needle right into the stomach...”

Keith’s heart was sinking. That didn’t sound like something people did when things were normal

“Was there something wrong?”

Lance’s hands went to his belly, his boyfriend cared more about his bump than he’d let anyone see

“It’s just a theory that I’m sick because these two are full human, with your blood type instead of mine. Despite floating around in me, feeding on my blood and nutrients and all that, they’re human. But that... could change. I mean, they really should be part vampire... it’s possible that my body could get too weak and start feeding off them... when they’re bigger... My body is kind of unique... I’ve been spending... a lot of time trying to eat as much as I can. You saw me at lunch. I’ve had pretty much no appetite since Mami passed, but I’ve been working hard for them... it’s so frustrating throwing everything back up when I’m trying so hard”

This was the kind of thing Coran should have told him... Coran had tried to talk to him alone. He’d been so desperate to get to Lance... he could have kicked himself. As it was, he didn’t know if the twins were from his weak pull out game or a dodgy condom. He’d never doubted paternity. Lance wasn’t like that... but he was pissed that Lance hadn’t told him this sooner

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because... because I’m trying so hard. I promise I am. I have fresh blood brought to me and I drink more and sleep more and I’ve been careful about not tripping or slipping...”

“Their my twins too. You have to stop taking everything on your own shoulders”

“You weren’t there! You weren’t! I know you couldn’t help it but you were gone and I had to cope the best I could!”

Lance rolled away from him, curling around his stomach as he started to cry. Keith didn’t want to not be there

“I couldn’t help it!”

“I know! I told you to go! And I hate that I did! I hated it! I wanted to go. I wanted to go find you but I couldn’t even be that courageous!”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t that fucking easy being away from you either! Matt and Rieva got hurt! People died! Lotor is now a fucking prince of a whole damn empire! We were being hunted by those loyal to Zarkon. Honerva turned her magic on Curtis! He nearly ended up dead! It was fucking shit!”

“How am I supposed to know this if you don’t tell me?!”

“I don’t know, how am I supposed to know if you run off with our twins and won’t even fucking face all the people that have been there for you!”

“Get out!”

Lance bellowing at him froze Keith. What had he done...

“Lance...”

“Get out!”

“Babe...”

Lance covered his ears, shaking his head

“No! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

“Look... look, okay. Okay. I shouldn’t have snapped, but... I can’t be there for you if I don’t know. I feel shit enough for all I missed”

“How could you think I’m not trying!? You left and everything fucking fell apart! I didn’t know if you were dead or had just run off with someone else!”

“What’s going on here?!”

Rieva and Matt rushed into the room. Rieva demanding to know. Lance was crying on the bed. Keith in tears too

“Lance, I think that’s enough. Keith never looked at anyone else. He was pathetic about missing you the whole time. If there’s something wrong with the twins, you really should have told him sooner”

Rieva growled at her boyfriend, eyes turning yellow. Matt shutting up

“Both of you need to go”

“Bu...”

“Go. You’ve upset him enough and I’m disappointed. Yes, Lance should have told Keith, but when has he had the chance? And when he does, everything turns straight into a fight. Can’t you see how much he’s hurting thinking about the twins? I’m upset that you guys would even consider him capable of hurting the twins”

Keith never said he thought Lance would... He was hurt he hadn’t been told properly. And angry again that Lance seemed so ready to give up on him... He’d never given up on Lance. Then again. He didn’t lose his mother last month and have to deal with his douche siblings

“I didn’t think he’d hurt the twins... but... I... I’m supposed to be the father. All I want is him to lean on me more. To be able to tell me these things, and not act like he’s protecting me by not telling me”

“How am I supposed to tell you I’m defective! That it’s not enough to be fucked up but I’m defective on top of it!”

“You’re not defective! There’s nothing about you that I don’t love!”

Rieva let out a level breath

“Matt, take Keith and go for a walk. I’ll stay with Lance until he calms down”

“But...”

But he was Lance’s boyfriend...

“I think you both need to cool your heads”

[caeruleis]

@shiningstages​ asked:

☀ for one muse to surprise the other with a home-cooked meal ( for lancelot from vane~ )

Softer Prompts || Accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!

                                                          ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ― ☽ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

     He’s hunched over the cluttered desk in his room aboard the Grandcypher, elbow balanced awkwardly on a stack of books with his palm pressed against his forehead - strands of dark hair tumbling over his knuckles as his watery eyes scan the page beneath his other hand. A quill is held loosely between his fingers, and a mostly empty jar of ink is nestled between a few notebooks to his right. There’s barely enough space in front of him for the paper he’s currently reading. Not when there are stacks of loose pages and half-open notebooks and worn quills and who knows what else all shoved haphazardly onto his workspace because, at some point within the past fourteen hours he had needed them. But, by now, his attempt to keep everything organized had spiraled into utter chaos - as it always does, and now even he doesn’t know what or where everything he’s done is. And he’s stopped trying to remember or keep track of it all because, really, all that matters is seeing that what need to be done gets done. Which, really, is part of the root of the problem to begin with. Despite his determination to ensure everything is done correctly, and on time, there are often errors in his writing or he ends up submitting letters late because of his lack of organization. Not to mention his awful habit of forgetting to take care of himself, and pushing himself until he simply drops. It’s part of the reason his room always looks as if a tornado had personally torn off the door, and yanked everything from his shelves and drawers and bed. And he always claims he’ll clean it up when he has the chance, but he never does get the chance. Proof in how last week’s clothes are still strewn about the floor alongside books he had borrowed, finished, and had yet to return - along with numerous other items that would take a lifetime to list off.  

      And, speaking of not taking care of himself, he hasn’t actually moved from this spot in hours, save to pace around aimlessly in his room in an attempt to get his brain in working order again. The sun had both set and risen in the span he’s been mulling over his work for the kingdom, and his stomach, by now, had contorted into a painful mass of knots because he hasn’t eaten in more than a day. But he was so focused on what he was doing that he failed to take any notice to how it grumbled every so often as if trying to reason with him, or how his normally silky hair had become a bit oily from lack of being washed or how he was tired enough that the words on the page before him kept blurring in and out of view. His lips dry, yet still pursed as his pen scribbles along the thick parchment. His typically neat handwriting a mess of ugly lines and twisted curves that slowly begin to start looking less and less like words and more like a cry for help from his sorely abused body that he was ignoring entirely. In fact, he was ignoring basically everything around him - enough so that he didn’t even hear the door open, or the sound of Vane’s footsteps as he entered the room. He didn’t even register the other man was standing beside him until a plate was set on the paper he had been working on, and he has to blink sleepy tears from his eyes just to register the meal placed himself is actually real and not a figment of his imagination - his nose twitching slightly as the pleasant smell that wafts from it tickles his skin. 

      Only then does his hand drop from his forehead, and he releases the quill from his fingers to glance beside him and see the other. “Vane,” he coughs, surprise in his voice that’s hoarse from well, lack of sleep, water, and other basic human needs. Realizing how awful he sounds, he pats his chest in an attempt to clear up his lungs a bit before a smile manages to push onto his tired features. One that is quickly shattered by a yawn that rips from his throat as reality begins to settle back in around him. “You really didn’t have to - ” he begins before his stomach promptly cuts him with a loud rumble that, no doubt, could have been heard from the hallway outside of his room. And, now, even he can’t deny the fact that he’s utterly starving and in desperate need of meal, a bath, sleep, and some away from work. “Well, even if you didn’t need to, I’m happy you did anyway.” A somewhat sheepish smile crinkles his features as he looks away from the other, and back to the plate. Vane’s cooking is never anything short of incredible, and he can tell just how much effort had gone into making it just by looking at it. It makes him feel guilty for making Vane worry enough about him to prompt him to deliver him a freshly made meal. “You have my thanks. I’d be lost without you.” 

       Another groan tears from his stomach, and he quickly gives in, taking up the fork that had been brought alongside the food to start eating before his own body decides to embarrass him further. Savoring every bite that he shovels into mouth, no matter how quickly, before he’s finally polished off about half of the plate and has put his stomach’s graveling to rest long enough that he feels it’s safe to speak again. “This is amazing. As always, Vane, nothing can beat your cooking.” He’s sincere when he compliments the other, and proof comes in how he quickly goes back to eating - not saying another word until he’s finished it. Perhaps a bit too quickly, but he really had been starving. “I think I’m done for today, so after I finish this, would you want to go into town with me?” He should seriously sleep first, but the food has managed to revive him just enough to make him think such a thing is a good idea. But then he inhales to catch one last whiff of the meal that had been brought, and smells his own ink-stained and sweat-slicked skin, and his nose wiggles as a chuckle falls from his lips. “On second thought, how about we but that date on hold until after I take a bath?”                       

[fleckcmscott]

“Strogonof”

Summary: Arthur reminisces about his and Y/N’s first dinner together. Y/N’s happy to relive it with him.

Warnings: None

Words: 2,433

A/N: This request comes from the amazing @sweet-nothings04​. Thanks to @ithinkimawriter​ for beta-reading!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Arthur thought it was a great idea, albeit a last minute one. Not having known it was a thing when Y/N had given him his desk, he'd done nothing for their six month anniversary. He wanted to make damn sure to note one month of marriage. The dish she'd cooked the night he'd first come over had been delicious. And he would always associate it with falling in love with her. He found the name of it in his old journal, in the entry he'd written after their date, when he'd been high on the ease of their conversation, their too-short dance, and the kiss they'd shared: "strogonof."

Celebrating by having it again would be lovely. "I liked it a lot," he said when he called her office, notebook in hand. "Maybe we could make it for dinner?"

Her voice had a smile in it, though she turned him down. "Arthur, it takes nine hours to cook."

Nine hours? Unable to hide his consternation, he frowned. "Oh." Tension entered his shoulders, and he rubbed the back of his neck to quiet it. He'd have to come up with something else. Going to Kao-Wah's would work, though it wouldn't be as intimate. He could try to get the same booth as before. He started to flip through his notes, seeking to find the names of what they'd eaten between his earliest stand-up performance and the cementing of their relationship.

"Tell you what," she said, unknowingly interrupting his planning. The tap of her pencil on her desk was crystal clear through the phone. "We can get the ingredients tonight and make it tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

The suggestion warmed him, though it would be a day late. "That sounds great." 

During their walk to the nearby grocer's, he explained why he wanted that specific dish. And he told her he'd finished paying for the ring he'd picked out for himself (which he wouldn't let her help with, though they had combined their bank accounts): a gold band to match hers. Then he showed it to her. She snagged it, held his left hand steady as she slipped it on his finger, then kissed him firmly. Right there on the sidewalk in front of everyone. Y/N laying claim to him so enthusiastically, in public, made him feel like he was floating. Lips cracking a toothy smile, he led her through the store's entrance.

Arthur carried the shopping basket as they strolled each aisle. She was swiftly going to and fro, grabbing groceries as they went. And she made sure to pick the same wine as they'd had that night. It was cute, really. That wasn't a word he often used to describe her. But her grin was growing with every item she picked out. She was almost girlish. But he knew if he said that, she'd remind him she was the older one, and he wouldn't hear the end of it. Smirking at her was the best option.

As he picked up sour cream, she told him their supply of TV dinners was almost out. They weren't eaten often, but Y/N brought them to work once in awhile. Though their roles were reversed, a feeling of deja vu swept over him as she walked down the frozen food section. He watched as she stood in front of the freezer, apparently trying to decide which one she wanted. He tried to recall what she'd said to him when they'd first met. After approaching quietly, he stood behind her. "There are too many to pick from."

When she looked over her shoulder, he knew she'd understood. He continued. "Want me to get one for you?"

Beaming, she opened the door for him and leaned back against it. "Yes, actually. The Polynesian Style Dinner. With the orange tea cake." He reached in and got it for her, then presented it with a small bow. She took it, giggled, and whacked him lightly on the bicep with it. Then she caught him off guard by grasping his collar and pulling him to her. "You know, mister," she purred, "you're very handsome. Want to sneak in the back? I'm sure we can hide behind some boxes."

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw a nearby man look at them with disapproval. Arthur snorted, blushing. "I'll just take your number. You might be a nut." She gasped, putting the back of her fingers to her mouth, then ducked away from him in mock outrage and hurried towards the cash register, glancing back as she went. God, he loved it when she was playful - generally she was just sarcastic. He grabbed the same dinner for himself and took off after her.

~~~~~

Y/N went over the recipe, guiding him through each step. It was easy enough. He cut the beef into bite-sized pieces while she drained the mushrooms. The condensed soups were thrown in, along with a chopped onion. As they worked in tandem, she told him the cream cheese needed to be taken out later to soften. He had a therapy appointment that morning and a gig, a kid's party, in the afternoon, but he'd be home in between. He wrote a note and left it on the counter so he'd remember. Then she handed him a spoon. "So," she started. "We've been Mr. & Mrs. Fleck for a month. How does it feel?"

He released a soft "hm" as he stirred all the ingredients together. Their engagement had been about a half hour - he hadn't gotten used to being a fiance before becoming a husband. Marriage elicited numerous reactions at once. He'd hoped for it one day. He'd thought it would be gratifying to have a partner, a person who loved him enough to take his last name, along with his issues. Someone who wanted to fold her life into his. With every seldom, missed chance, though, whether due to his apprehension or lack of women to interact with, he'd grown to assume that type of union was out of reach for him.

When they'd initially gotten together, he'd thought of Y/N in the context of what she could do for him. How her presence would improve his existence. That she validated him. His musings still often skewed that way. But he'd found he didn't only enjoy his wife being there whenever he needed or wanted her. It fulfilled him to support her. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by that. He'd spent most of his years looking after Penny. It made sense he'd want to care for Y/N, too. Especially since marrying her was a choice he'd made, not a circumstance he'd wound up in as a kid.

During the prior months, mornings had become one of Arthur’s favorite parts of the day. Normally, he'd wake up an hour before her. He’d kiss her forehead, put on coffee, and go on the fire escape to smoke. It was a peaceful routine. But over the past four weeks, there had been a slight change. There were days like this one, when awe would overcome him as he stirred and looked her way, like it had when he'd first moved in. Awe at having her instead of permanent solitude. He would press into her sleeping form, simply to hold her, to feel her solid weight and heat against him. To remind himself he'd never go unseen again.

And he found a modicum of happiness in the small, domestic niceties he hadn't considered in his fantasies. Like when they would plop on the couch after a long day, and she would read a newspaper while he watched a variety show, keeping each other company even as their interests diverged. Or if she would forget to grab the bar of soap before hopping in the shower, and call for him to retrieve it for her. And there was the time he'd tried to impress her by fixing a leak under the kitchen sink himself. It had worked, temporarily. She'd lauded him, anyway, not caring the repair had only lasted a couple days and the-

Y/N poked his ribs. "I hope the silence doesn't mean you hate it," she teased.

He had a tendency to grow quiet and think too long when she asked him questions. But she didn't seem to mind - she'd said it was sweet. His lips turned up as he gave her a sidelong glance. "No." The spoon went in the sink after he rinsed it off. "It's nice. Especially with you."

She was setting the timer on the slow cooker. "Good." Her smile was wide as she stepped to him, her arms encircling his skinny waist. "I wish I could stay all day, but I've got to get to work. Call me if you need anything."

She always told him that before she left. And the fact that she meant it made him feel whole, at least for a few seconds. He said he would, kissed her, and helped her with her coat and bags as she headed out the door.

~~~~~

The meal was as appetizing as he'd remember. And because he wasn't nervous this time, he was able to fully enjoy the richness of it. He'd gotten used to drinking wine with Y/N occasionally, too, and poured the correct amount for both of them. But he often felt its heady effect after one serving. It was probably what emboldened him tonight, along with the Nat King Cole record in the background, and Y/N's attempt at dimming the pendant light over the table by tying a kerchief under it. “Can I tell you a secret?” Arthur asked, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkins Y/N insisted they use.

As she took another bite of her egg noodles, she grinned and tapped his calf with her toe. “We still have secrets?”

He pressed his lips together. He’d truly opened up to her some time ago, when she’d come back after Murray. But there would always be things he would never tell her. How he’d gotten fired for bringing a gun to the children’s hospital. That he’d quit school at fifteen. Or that he’d had the urge to follow her when they first met.

But this he wanted to share. “I…” He could feel his cheeks turn pink as he chuckled softly. He rested his face on his hand. “I thought about marrying you after we slept together the first time.” Trying to hide his bashfulness, he jabbed at a mushroom, blinking down at his plate.

The response was a full-throated laugh. She put down her fork and picked up her glass. “I’m glad you didn’t say that to me then.” The sip she took was longer than usual. It made him wonder if he’d screwed up, admitting that to her. Then she said, “I knew you were a romantic at heart, but I didn’t realize you were quite so old-fashioned.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started, concentrating on her wine as she swirled it gently. “I hadn't realized sex was one of your big considerations for getting married. Given how often we had it beforehand.”

He scrunched up his face. “That’s not it.” Sighing, he started eating again. “I didn’t want someone to take you away from me. I was afraid you’d realize I’m a mess and not want me anymore.” Those notions felt ridiculous now and he shrugged at himself. “I just- I wanted you to know how quickly I loved you,” he said quietly.

He could feel the heat of her gaze on him. It didn’t make him uncomfortable - they were beyond that. But he felt his blush deepen. (That reaction was so ingrained in him. Vaguely, he wondered if he’d ever stop doing it around her.)

She cupped his chin and turned him to her, their eyes meeting. His eyebrows lifted and he held his breath, stomach doing a little flip. The adoration he felt for her was reflected back at him. Leaning forward, she kissed him. Though the movements of her lips were soft, the passion behind the gesture was clear. “I apparently like messes. And dimples," she said, squeezing his cheek. "I hadn't been aware they could be so cute." The glare he gave her made her giggle. Then she continued to eat. "I didn't plan on getting married again."

"Why not? You're good at it."

A pleased expression crossed her face. "Thank you." But then she bit her lip. "I've told you how unhappy I was with my ex. And then I had to jump into being miserable with my father. When I was free of all that, I wanted to live for myself." She took her plate to the sink and started rinsing it. "I still do. But it's not the same. You being a part of my life has made it better." Scoffing, she shook her head. "I never expected that from anyone." Her voice was getting rough, which he knew she'd blame on the wine. "I'm thankful for you everyday, Arthur."

He closed his eyes as he took in what she said. The romantic dinner, the LP playing, her precious words (which he planned to jot in his journal later)... The tightness in his breast was acute, and he thought he might burst if he simply continued sitting. Articulating his feelings was difficult when he was overcome. But touching her had become easy. Rising from his seat, he took a step towards her and laid a hand between her shoulder blades, massaging tenderly.

Chuckling, she leaned back against him. "Listen to me prattling on like an idiot. You'd never guess I started dating you for your looks."

He kissed the side of her head. No matter how often she told him how good-looking he was, he'd have his doubts. But he believed she found him attractive. Maybe his ego would someday let that be enough. "Why do you think I started seeing you?" he murmured.

She turned around in his arms and put her hands on his chest. "All right. The clumsy grace hiding under all that reservation probably had something to do with it, too."

The food and wine forgotten, he hugged her, hard, and nuzzled the side of her face. Y/N had told him before not to worry about saying the wrong thing. That when he managed to trust himself, which had gradually become easier, she thought he spoke beautifully. And sometimes the simplest phrases were the best. "I'm glad you married me."

"I love you, too." She pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Let's finish that bottle of wine."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @ithinkimaperson​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @fallenstarsabyss​ @gruffle1​ @octopus-plasma​

[scaredofheroin]

Captain N - Chapter 5: Lavancha the Unlikely

"Wake up, Peter Lavancha."

Captain N shot awake in his bed, alarmed by the sudden voice inside his head. He could immediately place whose it was: Princess Zelda. But after turning on the light and looking around the room, he couldn't see her anywhere. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he got out of bed and glanced out the window. Unfortunately, he was still in his hotel room in New Leaf Town on the brave new world of Yamajiro, and not in his bedroom back on Earth. His small hope for everything going back to normal dashed, Captain N glanced at the nearby clock. The ornate yet refurbished clock read 7:24, reminding him of what's on the agenda for today. In a little more than half an hour, he'll meet with legendary vampire hunter Simon Belmont to get some training on how to be an awesome world-savior. Pacing around the comfortably-decorated hotel room, his mind wandered to the possibilities of today. Apart from two months of Karate classes when he was ten, Captain N never received any formal training of this nature. On one hand, if Simon Belmont is as incredible as he's made out to be, which is more than likely the case, he could hardly ask for a better tutor in the art of combat, especially when he needs to learn how to effectively fight now more than ever. On the other hand, Simon's sheer size intimidated him. The mere thought of what intense, rigorous training got him to that shape sent a cold feeling down Captain N's spine. It is fortunate that he'll be receiving training away from the prying eyes of the townspeople. These decent people need hope in these times of darkness, and seeing their predestined savior embarrass himself in a training exercise could make plant the seeds of despair.

Fake it 'til you make it, Cap.

Captain N's attention was drawn back to the present with the sensation of his stomach rumbling, reminding him that a hearty breakfast is essential in getting a good start on the day. Not wanting to keep Pit, Falco or Zelda waiting, Captain N quickly dressed himself in his now-dry clothes and stuck his Zapper in his right pocket before exiting his room and making his way down to the lobby. The three teammates were already there, immediately noticing Captain N against the other small, anthropomorphic townspeople. "Morning, sunshine." Falco greeted, leaning against the wall. "Cut him some slack, Falco. He had a really hectic day yesterday and needed his rest." Pit reminded him. Falco nodded nonchalantly in response. "I see you got my little wake-up call." Zelda smirked. Captain N nodded, rubbing his head. "I never knew you could do that kind of magic stuff." Captain N replied. "There's plenty of things you don't know about me." Came Zelda's voice, once again inside Captain N's head. This strange sensation threw him off, eliciting some light chuckling from the three. "You'll get used to it." Pit assured him. Nodding, Captain N laughed a bit. "I'll take your word for it, man."

Breakfast was shared between the four. Upon receiving the plates of fried eggs and bacon alongside glasses of water. Captain N nervously glanced over at Falco, assessing his response to the food. Falco casually cut apart the egg and ate a small portion of it, chewing the food in his beak and noticing Captain N assessing him.

"What?" Falco asked him.

Captain N shifted his jaw, trying to figure how best to word his question.

"Well... I, uh... aren't you... a bird?" He finally asked, referring to Falco's blue, anthropomorphic bird physique.

Falco's eyes squinted in confusion, then realized what he's referring to.

"Don't worry, this stuff might as well be a different species to me." Falco assured, turning his attention back to the fried eggs.

"You had to have known that concern was inevitable." Zelda spoke up, gently placing her utensils to the side as she took a sip of water. Falco simply shrugged, more focused on breakfast. Figuring now's a good time to ask some questions, Captain N turned to Pit. "So... Palutena is an actual Goddess?" He asked.

"Yup! The Goddess of light!" Pit confirmed.

"And Raiden is the God of thunder?"

"That's right!"

Captain N paused for a moment.

"Like, people actually worship them? And they live forever?"

"That's part of what being a God is."

"...Should I worship them?"

"I don't think they'll mind."

"Are there... other deities?"

"Totally! There's Viridi, Fujin, Dyntos, Shinnok, Din, Nayru, Farore, and... some others." Pit trailed off, his mood souring somewhat. "But they've all got their own duties as Gods and Goddesses, so we can really only rely on Raiden and Lady Palutena for whatever divine intervention we can get."

Captain N turned his attention back to his breakfast. Taking a bite, he was pleasantly surprised by how delicious the eggs were. A mixture of salt, pepper and other ingredients he couldn't place makes for possibly the best eggs he has ever eaten. The hunger in his stomach grew much more apparent, which he was quick to remedy. Greedily wolfing down the delectable meal, Captain N found himself finished with his breakfast sooner than everyone else. Pit came in second, followed by Falco, with Zelda being the last to finish her breakfast, delicately placing her fork and knife on her carefully folded napkin. "Mind if I take these?" Asked a blue/white male cat wearing a checkered sweater. The four shook their heads, and the newcomer bowed gracefully before skillfully stacked the cleared plates on top of each other, along with the used forks and knives. "We should get going, Simon isn't known for his patience." Zelda reminded the group. "Yeah, let's go." Captain N agreed, getting up and making his way to the hotel door. Looking back to wave goodbye to the hotel's host. Noticing a large amount of townspeople's eyes glued to the illustrious team, Captain N left before his awkwardness could be made too apparent.

The fresh, crisp air of a new morning helped invigorate Captain N. The air tasted the same as yesterday, that is to say slightly different from the air he's breathed for 18 years on Earth. Foot traffic in New Leaf Town was light, it still being early in the morning. He waved to a couple of nearby townspeople, who happily waved back. "Looks like you slept well." Falco remarked, joining Captain N. "Sure did, yesterday was a lot. How about you?" He asked back. Falco shrugged slightly before answering with "Eh, it wasn't the best sleeping situation." Pit and Zelda joined the two in their conversation. "Well, you don't hear Princess Zelda complaining. If it's good enough for her, it's good enough for you." Captain N pointed out. Zelda smirked slightly. "Come on, time's a-wasting!" Pit interrupted, leading the path to the entrance of New Leaf Town.

---

Outside town, one of the Kremlings managed to escape the scuffle that occurred between the Kremlings and Captain N and company. Rummaging around inside the bag of tools they brought, he eventually found a communicator device. Opening it up, the Kremling punched in the communications codes and waited for a response. After a few moments of nervously waiting, the screen lit up with the images of Bowser, King K. Rool and King Dedede sitting at a large table facing the screen. The large crocodillian wearing a red cape known as King K. Rool had his face turn sour upon seeing him, the large, turtle-like Koopa king with spikes all over his shell named Bowser snarled upon receiving this interruption, and the large, blue penguin donned in regal attire that is King Dedede rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "What is it, minion?" King K. Rool snarled, making the Kremling shrink back a bit. "Well, yesterday, on the way to collect your "taxes" from New Leaf Town, we were ambushed." The Kremling explained to his superiors. "And I assume you were victorious? Because the only possible reason I can imagine you would interrupt our meeting is to bring us GOOD news, correct?" Bowser asked, making the Kremling even more nervous. "Actually... we... I'm the... only survivor." He meekly admitted. "WHAT!?" King K. Rool roared, shooting up from his chair, almost knocking King Dedede off his own chair. "I trained only the bravest and the best of you simpletons! Who could possibly have defeated an entire group of you morons!?" King K. Rool demanded. The Kremling's mind raced, trying to recall who exactly opposed his team yesterday. "Th-th-there was that pipsqueak that runs Palutena's Royal Guard, the blue bird who skipped out on Star Fox, that Princess from Hyrule, and... uh... someone else." The Kremling trailed off, not knowing who the fourth assailant was. King Dedede drew closer to the screen. "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" King Dedede interrogated, raising his large mallet for intimidation. "I mean I don't know! He didn't have ears like a Hylian, but he had on a red and white jacket and was using an orange laser pistol!" The Kremling defended.

The last detail caught the attention of the three kings. A silent exchange was had between Bowser and King Dedede, realizing what this could mean. "Where did the group come from?" King K. Rool demanded, whereupon the Kremling racked his brain from some kind of answer they would accept. "Uh... th-the north?" Was the answer the henchmen eventually gave.

"Did they come from the warp pipe to the Mushroom Kingdom?" King Dedede asked further.

"I-I-I think so."

King Dedede grew much more concerned, this emotion hidden from his two cohorts. Bowser slammed his fist down on the table, nearly shattering it. "If this mystery nuisance is the one who was said to come in this world's hour of greatest need, then everything we've worked for will have been for nothing!". King K. Rool growled at the Kremling, immensely displeased with the news. "Is he still in New Leaf town?" King K. Rool asked, earning a shaky nod from the Kremling. "Ensure he stays there! I shall send another deployment of you miserable creatures to take care of him. Do not fail me again!" King K. Rool warned. "We continue with our plan, this is only a temporary setback." Bowser assured, earning a quick nod of agreement from King Dedede. "Of course! Soon this entire planet will be mine-ours! Yamajiro will be ours!" King Dedede quickly corrected himself. The Kremling shakily saluted the three kings before ending the call. Once he was confident that no one was listening in, the Kremling let out a heavy sigh, easing a large amount of tension that had been building up. This will be taken care of soon, and nobody will be able to stop Bowser, Dedede and K. Rool... right?

---

Upon reaching the front gates of New Leaf Town, Captain N and company quickly found Simon Belmont standing by a small thorn bush. "Hey, we're here." Captain N spoke up, grabbing Simon's attention. Looking to the clouds, Simon nodded approvingly. "You're on time. That's good." He noted. Captain N stepped forward, away from Zelda, Pit and Falco and towards Simon. "So... when do we start?" He nervously asked. "Now." Simon bluntly responded, suddenly taking out his whip and lashing Captain N across the forearm. The action happened inside the blink of an eye, and Captain N fell over after yelping in surprise and pain, clutching his now stinging arm. "If you're gonna be the hero these people need, you need to be ready for anything." Simon stated bluntly as Captain N regained his footing. Zelda and Pit wanted to intervene, but were stopped by Falco. "This is his battle, not ours." He reminded them. Pit reluctantly stepped back, while Zelda remained right beside Falco.

"Alright, lesson one: be ready for anything. What's next?" Captain N asked Simon. In response, Simon wordlessly motioned for him to follow, which Captain N obliged with. After a brief walk around the outside of New Leaf Town, Simon stopped at a grass clearing, turning to face Captain N, whose arm was still in more pain than it had ever been in before. He unsheathed his whip, but tossed it aside to Captain N's relief. "Disarm yourself, Captain. You need to learn how to not have to rely on weapons." Simon ordered. With some reluctance, as if expecting another trap, Captain N slowly removed the Zapper from his pocket and tossed it right next to Simon's whip. Pit, Zelda and Falco stood in the shade of a nearby tree, the heat of the day arriving with the sun rising in the sky. Pit stood ready to intervene if necessary, regardless of what Falco might say. Simon crouched in a fighting stance, seemingly ready to attack. With much less confidence, Captain N matched Simon's posture, closing and raising his fists. "Your goal of the day is to hit me." Simon instructed. "...That's it?" Captain N asked, easing his stance in slight confusion. "Just one hit and you win." Simon reinforced, his posture just as intense. "If you feel ready for this challenge, step forward and strike me."

Captain N closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, opened his eyes, and approached Simon after slight mental deliberation. Zelda held her breath, not looking forward to what's to come. His steps became much lighter, being ready to dodge out of the way if necessary. Simon stood rigid, eyeing Captain N as he waited for him to make the first move. Captain N targeted Simon's lower torso, and attempted a swift jab. Simon was anticipating this, and quickly intercepted Captain N's incoming fist, knocking it out of the way. The counter strike almost knocked Captain N off his feet, but he recovered before he could fall. Deciding that taking too much time makes his target too obvious, he swung his right leg out to strike the back of Simon's knee. Again, Simon anticipated this, and kicked his leg out to knock Captain N off balance. The indignity of falling on his rear was short-lived, as Captain N knew he needed to persist to get better. Still in fighting stance, Captain N backed away from Simon carefully assessing the situation. "Just one hit and you're done." Simon reminded him. Pit shook his head, knowing Captain N couldn't win. Falco leered at Pit, wordlessly reminding him to not intervene. Zelda was still watching with her breath held, paying no mind to Falco or Pit.

This continued for a period of time shorter than what Captain N would have assumed. Despite his best efforts, he was unable to land a single hit on Simon. His frustration and exhaustion were mixing to something volatile, almost boiling over at the unfairness of this "training" session and how sore his body is becoming from Simon's counter strikes. Simon remained as stoic as before, undeterred by Captain N slowing down. "Shouldn't he take a break or something?" Pit spoke up. Simon shook his head, not taking his eyes off Captain N. "You don't get breaks in real situations. You should know that, Pit." Simon bluntly answered. Falco shot Pit a silent "told you so" and Zelda forced herself to not intervene. As painful as it was to watch Captain N get beaten again and again, it's the only way he'll get stronger. Captain N tried to fake Simon out by throwing a fake punch to distract from the intended strike that was to get Simon's torso. But Simon was a step ahead, and blocked both the fake and real punch at once. Knocked off his feet, Captain N took a moment to get himself together before getting back up. Then he got an idea. Slowly getting up, Captain N wound up as powerful a punch as he could muster, but again, Simon intercepted and knocked Captain N on the ground, but he didn't get back up. Simon looked over Captain N, unimpressed. "There's his break." Simon said to Pit, finally taking his eyes off his trainee. Captain N seized this opportunity, and quickly shot his leg out to land a strike on the back of Simon's knee, almost knocking him off his balance.

Surprised, Simon looked back to see Captain N with a smug grin plastered across his face. "Lesson one: be ready for anything." Captain N teased him, almost immediately regretting his smug attitude. He recoiled in advance, expecting Simon to yell at him for improper behavior. Instead, Simon chuckled at his inventiveness. "Correct, Captain." Simon agreed, holding out a hand to help Captain N up. He took his hand, and was suddenly hoisted onto his feet. "Yeah! Go, Captain N!" Pit cheered. Pride swelling in his chest, Captain N looked over to the three, seeing Falco nod approvingly and Zelda offering a gentle, polite applause at his display. Simon tossed Captain N an apple and stated "Fifteen minute break starts now.". He gratefully bit into the crisp apple, savoring the added taste of his small victory.

[paxohana]

Menagerie, Pt. 7

The weekend had passed at a snail’s pace, but none slower than that day. Viktor’s father insisted he spent the majority of the day at the factory.  The day was filled with tediously boring meetings, placating the union’s grievances, and touring the factory floor.  While Viktor liked to mingle with the employees, he wanted the day to be over.

The night would be filled with time spent with Yuuri.

The young man had visited Viktor’s dreams countless times throughout the week, and while Viktor welcomed them, he hoped that most of them would come true.  He longed to touch Yuuri even if it was a gentle touch, he desperately wanted to indulge in the taste that was Yuuri through a kiss.  He knew he was overreacting and wondered if they would ever have a chance at more, but knew they wouldn’t unless the stars aligned on some deserted island.  A man could wish, he thought.

When the steam whistle sounded, marking the end of the day, Viktor grabbed his light jacket and raced toward the door.  He only planned on spending a brief time at home changing and freshening up before heading to the restaurant for dinner with Yuuri.  He was so looking forward to it that he barely missed mowing Clare over.

“Out already, Mr. Viktor?” she questioned.

“Yep, I have dinner with Yuuri tonight,” Viktor answered.

He had told Clare about their day in the slums and the evening under the willow tree. He relayed everything they chatted about and even the slight kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.  While Viktor thought he had overstepped his bounds, Clare thought that Yuuri might be welcome to the sweet gesture.  He hadn’t shoved him away, after all.

“Have a wonderful time, Viktor,” Clare said, smiling sweetly at him.

With a kiss to her cheek and a heartfelt hug, Viktor was on his way.

***

Yuuri, on the other hand, couldn’t believe how quickly the day had passed and he was thankful for it.  His father had given him a day off when Yuuri couldn’t figure out how to post a certain account’s books correctly. While it frustrated Yuuri to no end, he was glad he wouldn’t be high-strung that evening.

That evening he would be spending hours with Viktor.

The faint thrill raced through his body, the familiar feeling each time he thought of Viktor.  Yuuri had spent countless hours lying in bed or sitting on his balcony thinking of the man who caught his fancy.  He knew he shouldn’t entertain such thoughts, but Yuuri couldn’t help it.  He was the most intriguing, selfless, and gorgeous person he had ever met in his life thus far, and Yuuri didn’t think anyone could surpass Viktor.

Yuuri passed the time by reading a book he’d been meaning to finish.  He was too restless to finish the novel and went outside to stroll through his mother’s impressive garden.  All of her favorite flowers were in bloom, so Yuuri decided to pick a bouquet for her since he knew she wouldn’t have time to.  Ambling from plant to bush, Yuuri had an armful of flowers by the time he finished.  He decided it was enough and headed for their expansive kitchen.  Hiroko wasn’t home that afternoon, so Yuuri hastily arranged the flowers and placed them in a vase.  He knew that his mother would be pleasantly surprised when she returned home.

When the sun began its slow descent from the sky, Yuuri knew it was time to get ready.  He wanted to look sharp that night, so he had to decide upon something quickly lest he be tardy.  Flying through the outfits in his walk-in closet, Yuuri didn’t hear Mari come in.  After hitting her in the face with a shirt and her subsequent yell, Yuuri spun around on his heel and apologized to her sister.  Yuuri offered an explanation of why he was a nervous wreck, and Mari insisted on helping him find the perfect outfit.  Yuuri was relieved his sister helped him, choosing a cream long-sleeved shirt and a pair of cotton trousers.  He wanted to wear his straw hat, but Mari refused, saying it made the outfit look childish. Yuuri reluctantly agreed.

He dressed in record time and flew down the steps.  His mother had returned home and just finished setting the table when Yuuri went into the dining room and gave her a hug goodbye.

“Where are you off to, son?” she asked.

“I’m having dinner with Viktor tonight,” Yuuri replied, “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”

“Have a fun time, dear,” Hiroko said, returning the hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I will, Mom,” he said, grinning at her, “I will.”

***

They arrived within minutes of each other.  Yuuri was waiting near a well-manicured hedge and grinned broadly when he saw Viktor.  Extending a hand in greeting, Yuuri felt a pleasant feeling run through him, growing stronger when Viktor clasped Yuuri’s hand with both of his.

“How has the remainder of your week been, Yuuri?” Viktor asked after the greetings were out of the way.

“It’s been good, but nothing as remarkable as tonight,” Yuuri said truthfully.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Viktor said, “Ready to go inside?”

Upon Yuuri’s nod, Viktor opened the door for him and placed his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back, guiding him toward the maitre’d stand.  When he realized what he had done, his hand flew back as if he was touching fire.  He looked around their surroundings, but no one had noticed his faux pas.

Sighing a breath of relief, Viktor chatted with Yuuri until the maitre’d seated them.  They thanked the gentleman for the glasses of lemon water before perusing the menu.  Yuuri had only eaten at the establishment once and asked Viktor what he normally chose.  When Viktor mentioned the prime rib, Yuuri thought it sounded mouthwatering.  He decided upon that while Viktor mentioned he’d like to try the salmon dish.  They placed their orders when the server arrived and Viktor ordered a bottle of wine, his knowledge of the beverage impressing Yuuri immensely.

“So,” Viktor began, resisting the urge to take Yuuri’s hand in his own, “What do you think?”

“This?”  Yuuri started, “This is amazing.  I’ve only been here once, but it was a business lunch with one of my father’s clients.  I didn’t really get to enjoy the occasion.”

“Then we must visit here more often,” Viktor stated.

“Oh no, I couldn’t!  It’s so expensive here,” Yuuri objected.

“Then it shall be a treat.  Allow me a small whim, my sweet Yuuri,” Viktor said, his fingers brushing against Yuuri’s knuckles before placing his hand in his lap.

Viktor loved the way the blush crept up Yuuri’s neck and rested upon his cheeks.  He had learned through the day that they spent at the slums that Yuuri was easily embarrassed and didn’t take compliments easily.  Viktor had an inkling that Yuuri didn’t react well to terms of endearment either.

“I’m...um...I’m not used to someone referring to me in such a favorable manner,” Yuuri said.

“Why not is beyond me,” Viktor said, “You should have all the pleasantries and sweet endearments showered upon you every day of your life.”

Yuuri gave him an embarrassed smile which Viktor thought precious.  He returned the smile, it growing broader when he saw the twinkling in Yuuri’s eyes. Only interrupted when their meals arrived, they set about eating.

“Mmm,” Yuuri said after swallowing the first bite of prime rib, “This is decadent.”

“It’s amazing, that’s for sure,” Viktor said, “Would you like to try a bite of my calamari?  It melts in your mouth.”

Yuuri nodded and tried to take the fork from Viktor’s hand, but Viktor held onto it firmly.  Stabbing a piece of the fish with the utensil, Viktor raised his hand and offered the calamari to him.  Yuuri’s eyes never left Viktor’s while he took the bite, his eyes closing while he was chewing.

“How can any place make meals so luscious?” Yuuri asked, smirking when Viktor laughed.

“Their chef is from France.  I’ve heard that he is one of the best in the world, Viktor declared.

“Quite impressive.”

They returned to their meals, chatting and sipping on their wine.  When they finished, Viktor asked Yuuri if he’d like to partake in dessert, but Yuuri was too full.  They made plans to visit again in the near future, though Yuuri made Viktor promise to let him pay that time.

They wandered around town talking about every subject under the sun.  They chatted about the presidential elections and how the man voted in would ruin the country.  Their conversation then went to the most prominent’s daughter having a child out of wedlock.  They felt bad for the young woman since she was the talk of the town.  Yuuri was more concerned that the baby had breathing problems after she had him, knowing that information since his mother helped with the birth.  He also mentioned the small wooden car he’d brought to the baby’s mother for when he grew a little more.  The woman had tears in her eyes from Yuuri’s kindness.

They found themselves at the willow tree again.  Yuuri was hesitant to sit since the dew had fallen and Viktor was wearing linen pants.  When Viktor sat on the ground without thinking, however, Yuuri followed suit and laid back onto the soft, dew-kissed grass.

“Copper for your thoughts,” Viktor said softly.

“I was thinking about how much I enjoyed tonight.  This has to be one of the best days of my life,” Yuuri admitted.

“I’m so happy you feel that way,” Viktor said, smiling at him.

Laying in silence as they listened to the spring frogs sing their nighttime song, Viktor and Yuuri simply enjoyed the other’s company.  It was growing late though, and Viktor needed to wake early the next morning.

“I have to return home shortly,” Viktor said.

“As do I.  My father has a busy day planned for me tomorrow,” Yuuri said.

Viktor sat up and nodded.  Yuuri followed and stood up, brushing the grass off his backside.  Viktor noticed and felt his temperature increase.  He found every single action that Yuuri did amazingly attractive, and he wanted it for himself alone.

“Would you like to go to the play that’s performing at the theater on Sunday?” Yuuri questioned, “My parents have an extra ticket.”

“I’d love to.”

Stepping closer to Yuuri, Viktor placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders before embracing him.  Yuuri’s breath hitched as he felt himself lost in Viktor’s embrace.  Feeling his body come to life, Yuuri held his breath and wrapped his arms around Viktor.  Hugging him tighter, Yuuri felt lost when Viktor released him.

“Until Saturday, my sweet Yuuri,” Viktor said, squeezing his shoulders once before leaving.

Yuuri was on cloud nine, he had ascended to the heavens.  The electricity that had rushed through his body when he felt Viktor’s body against his own hadn’t abated, and Yuuri wished it would last forever.  Feeling ever so hopeful, Yuuri glanced at the moon and made a wish.

“Please allow Viktor and I something more,” he whispered into the still night air.  

Closing his eyes tightly, he wanted the wish to come true more than anything in the world.  Knowing he had to go home, Yuuri turned around and descended the hill, his heart forever hopeful.

Talented artwork done by the amazing @princessmimoza​ !  Need to catch up? Check out Menagerie on Ao3!

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 22 - Gem

The Crystal Empire is full of things made of crystals: the berries, the buildings, the Crystal Heart, the ponies... Ember is going to find out just how true that last one is. Through vore. (1633 words)

cw: My Little Pony, vore, unwilling prey, digestion

"Wow, Princess, this place really is impressive to look at!" Ember craned her head all around as she, Spike, and Cadance walked towards the Crystal Palace. Behind them, Twilight and Shining Armor were catching each other up on the goings on in Canterlot and in the Crystal Empire, respectively... as well as gently ribbing each other over sibling in-jokes.

"Thank you," the pink pony empress beamed, "it's really all thanks to the Crystal Heart, the big, heart-shaped gem that uses the love and happiness of all the crystal ponies to stave off the bitter cold just outside!"

Spike noticed the Dragon Lord drooling as she looked around, and advised, "uh, just like the Ponyville castle, you shouldn't eat the buildings here, either."

"Huh, alright," Ember said, now eyeing the houses and businesses as one would eye a nice, juicy-looking fruit that was revealed to be made of wax, "and that means I also shouldn't try to eat that Crystal Heart thingy, too, right?"

Cadance laughed, fully enjoying the joke her guest had made. After a few seconds, her laugh died down and she glanced over at the dragoness, who still looked at her expectantly. Ember glanced to the side, brows furrowed for a moment in thought. "So, that's a..."

The alicorn's smile fell, replaced by a mildly stunned look. "Um, that's right. Please don't eat the Crystal Heart, it keeps all that snow and winter and darkness out of the Empire."

Ember nodded solemnly. "Got it. Things are much easier in the Dragonlands, where any crystal or gem is edible, and all you have to worry about is if it was from some other dragon's hoard." They made a few steps further before she added, "though, I suppose that would be harder here, where EVERYTHING is a gem. Crystal, whatever."

The group of ponies and dragons finally got to the castle, soon entering a dining hall with a lavish spread of Crystal Empire specialties - crystal berry jam, crystal carrots, and, at Twilight's request, hayburgers with crystal wheat used for the buns. Cadance flapped her wings, landing backwards to gesture to the veritable banquet. "Feel free to help yourself!" she declared.

A crystal pony guard walked up to her and Shining Armor, muttering in their ears. They traded concerned looks, then Shining announced, "sorry, something's come up. Twily, could you come help us with the Heart? It's probably minor, but just in case..."

Twilight smiled and trotted forward. "Sure thing, BBBFF!" she chirped, before following them out.

Spike stuffed his mouth full of crystal berries, then ran after them. "Hey! Surely Spike the Brave and Glorious could be of assistance!"

The Dragon Lord watched them go, thoroughly confused. She took a step forward and reached a hand out towards them, calling, "where are you guys going? Is this normal for a palace visit?"

Cadance turned around. "Oh! Ember, I'm so sorry. We shouldn't be long at all, but this is... it could be important." She motioned at the food-covered table. "In the meantime, feel free to avail yourself of the delicacies from the Crystal Empire!"

"Uh, sure. Heh, I'll start with the chairs!" she joked, then picked up a berry and popped it in her mouth, just in case they couldn't tell she was jokking. It burst between her fangs, flooding her tongue with a rich, juicy flavor. The dragoness only barely noticed the ponies and Spike leaving, preoccupied with the delicious berry she quickly gulped down. "Wow, these ARE good crystals..." she remarked to herself.

Her gaze flicked across the table, taking in the incredible array of crystal food, and silently marking which ones she could probably actually eat. Unfortunately, aside from the berries and other sugary-looking treats, it looked rather sparse for a dragon. She huffed in frustration, a wisp of smoke trailing from her nose. Did they really just think she'd eat Spike's diet of light, sugary stuff, and probably some gems he brought himself? That last thought gave Ember pause, and she considered that maybe it was expected for her to bring her own food... but surely they would have told her, or Spike would have.

And then, her eyes drifted off the table, and onto the lone guard in the room. He wasn't a building, nor was he the crystal heart. The dragoness smiled as she approached him, salivating at the thought of all that delicious crystal.

"Hey," she said, bluntly, "all the food in here is okay for me to eat, right? I won't be breaking some pony rule by taking something meant for Spike?" Curious, she ran a hand through the crest on his helmet. And then again. Brush-a-brush.

The guard looked up at her, professionally stonefaced, as he ignored her manhandling the plume on his helmet. "Yes ma'am; if there is not enough food, Her Highness will most likely request more be made."

"Good." A quick lick of her scaly muzzle was all the warning the guard got. In one, clean motion, the Dragon Lord pulled the guard's helmet off, brought a hand under his chin to tip it up to her, and spread her jaws wide, clamping them down over his own muzzle. The guard froze, confused at the unexpected turn of events; unfortunately for him, this gave Ember more than enough time to reach behind his head and shove it all the way in, swallowing hard.

Her long, forked tongue ran over the crystal pony, noting with pleasure that he tasted far more like a beryl gem than a pony, though his sudden, terrified thrashing left her with no illusion as to whether she was eating an actual gem or not. Regardless, a gem of this quality was something to savor, and something she would naturally give her stomach the honor of breaking up, rather than relying on her teeth. Trying to get his bearings as Ember steadily worked her jaws down his neck, the guard managed to brace his forehooves against her encroaching lips, and began to push, trying to free himself from the blue-scaled predator.

Unfortunately, Ember simply held his forelegs against his body; when he realized he was trapped, the guard changed to pushing out against her grip, but this let the dragoness stretch her maw over one forehoof, and then the other. A strong swallow and a well-placed shove saw to his legs straightening right down her throat, where a few panicked squirms and wiggles proved utterly useless, if not actively worked him deeper. Ember gulped and gulped again when her tongue found only his bland, metal chestplate, rewarded when his uncovered barrel began to slip into her drooling maw.

With one scaly hand on either side of his crystalline body, the Dragon Lord heaved him upward, swallowing again as he slipped down. The crystal pony's hooves pushed through a tight ring of muscle and into a hot bath deep within the dragon's body, one that would only get more rapidly full with gravity on her side now. The guard tried to fight back again, but all moving his forelegs did was drag him deeper into her stomach. Ember's gut growled in appreciation for the meal as her throat dragged more of him in; the guard began to curl up behind those light blue scales with only his legs and tail left - and those, too, were not long for the outside world.

Ember wrapped her long tongue around the guard's hind legs, savoring the delicious taste of beryl before one last swallow condemned the crystal pony to her belly. Satisfied, she slumped against the wall, hands on her bulging, moving gut. Wherever the guard tried to strike out against, the dragon would simply push back; between her hands, her powerful stomach, and the overbearing heat within the dragoness, Ember's body soon wore down his spirit until, exhausted, he could do little more than curl up and wait for the inevitable.

Once she had gotten her meal under control, Ember walked back over to the table and picked up another crystal berry. She weighed eating it versus savoring the taste of the beryl "gem" she had just eaten, but the memory of the first berry stood strong in her mind. With a grin, she set about eating the berries. If anydragon asked later, she most certainly was not purring as she devoured the local fruit. As she ate, she felt the oddly-shaped lump in her stomach smooth out and soften. Her gut grumbled a warning, so she tipped her head back and let out a proud belch. Pure white flame spouted from between her pointy fangs, lightly singing the ceiling before they dissipated. "Ha!" she remarked to nocreature in particular, "they ARE gems!"

Once the plate was clear, Ember crossed her arms behind her head and rested. A couple minutes later, Spike and the ponies returned. "Oh good, I had gotten worried you might not have anything to eat - Spike usually just eats sweets," Cadance said, taking her place at the head of the table, "but I'm happy to see you enjoyed the crystal berries!"

"Yeah," Ember agreed, "they go great with beryl. Probably emerald, too..." Her thoughts drifted to a green mare the group had passed on their way to the castle.

Cadance nodded. "I'll be sure to get those for you next time you visit. Thanks again for waiting; I really didn't expect it to take so long!"

Twilight chimed in, "well, the important thing is we all learned a valuable lesson about friendship!"

The ponies shared a round of laughter. Ember gave Spike a confused look, shrugged, and muttered to her, "Princess of Friendship. It just sort of happens around her." Ember nodded, only partly understanding.

She had so much yet to learn about the Crystal Empire. And, Ember suspected, so much couldn't be learned by asking Cadance.

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Nine

A/N i’m moving home from residence today...moving everything out by myself. My dorm room looks so weird and empty without my 35 pictures of Daniel taped to my wall 😛

Monday, August 10th, 2020

Florence was more than thankful for having Callum staying with her throughout her adjustment from one kid to two. Her sleep schedule was completely destroyed once again from having to wake up almost every two hours to feed or tend to the newborn. Being a two bedroom apartment, Penelope was in the master with Florence and Callum was stuck on the couch but their setup worked and after simply a week and a half they had a routine down. Callum helped as much as he could, although helping was more tending to Clementine who was still getting used to sharing everything - especially attention - with the baby.

Florence usually woke up for the day around 6am, finding Callum making breakfast in the kitchen, Clementine in the her highchair beside him in her pyjamas. By then, Penelope was ready for yet another feeding and a change and with tired eyes Florence got her into her day clothes. When breakfast was ready, Florence laid the baby in her rocker and sat down for her own meal.

“What would we do without you?” Florence sighed happily through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“I don’t even want to think about the mess you’d be in.” Callum teased, joining her at the table.

“When are you needing to go back to LA?” Florence asked.

“Whenever you want me gone.” Callum shrugged.

“I’d keep you here forever if I could.” Florence smiled, reaching over to set a hand on his. Callum returned the smile, silently taking in the disheveled appearance of his once ever so graceful sister; her matted blonde hair, dark circles under her eyes, and old sweatpants that had a few unexplainable stains on the thighs. Regardless of how she physically reflected the troubles of life, Callum loved her none the less and admired her consistent strength.

“Have you heard from Matt?”

It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and Florence, although possibly coincidentally, pulled her hand back.

“No.” she scooped another forkful of egg. “I don’t think I will either.”

“But you’re okay?”

“More than okay, Cal. Who can complain, really?” Florence shrugged, offering a smile to Clementine who was wearing more of her breakfast than she had eaten. “Right, Clemmy?”

The toddler simply smiled a wide grin, her eyes scrunching closed and her head falling back a little.

“You lucked out with this one.” Callum chuckled, eyeing the seemingly always happy toddler.

“Now we wait to see how this one acts.” Florence pointed absentmindedly to the squirming newborn a few feet away. “She’s already crying more at night than Clementine did.”

“Hopefully it’ll ease up.” Callum said.

“I know.” Florence frowned.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“I was going to call up Daniel to see if he wants to grab lunch. I have to go out to grab a few things anyway and I feel like I haven’t talked to him in ages.”

Callum’s nervous shifting went unnoticed by Florence as she kept eating like nothing was wrong.

“What about you?” she glanced up at her brother who tried quickly and casually to get himself in check so she wouldn’t suspect anything.

“I have a meeting around lunchtime.” Callum said.

“A meeting?” Florence inquired.

“It’s nothing exciting.” Callum shrugged, getting up from the table to bring their dishes to the sink. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Florence frowned but nodded before taking her phone out to call Daniel. As the phone rang, she brought Clementine’s plastic dishes to the sink and used a damp cloth to wipe the toddler’s face. After three rings she was sent to voicemail. Frowning, Florence dialled again with the same conclusion but after two rings.

“He won’t answer.” Florence mumbled, sending him a text anyway.

Callum watched her silently as he loaded the dishwasher, keeping his mouth shut as she worriedly sent a text, the cloth in her hand now forgotten about as it hung lazily by two fingers. Clementine held her hands up and Florence slid her phone in her pocket to pick up her eldest daughter, placing her gently on her hip.

“Do you mind watching Penelope if I get Clem dressed?” Florence asked her brother.

“Of course.” Callum nodded.

Mornings with Clementine were Florence’s favourite thing, being able to spend some quiet time with her favourite person in the world, listening to her babbling stories that made no sense but still made her smile. Now that she was older, Clementine was able to help pick out her own clothes, and of course, with Jack being her absolute idol recently, she went right for anything he gave her. Jack made sure to keep her wardrobe fresh and gladly replaced his favourite outfit as she grew. The usual white t-shirt and red and black coloured camouflage pants were pointed to enthusiastically by the eighteenth-month-old, offering a cheeky smile to her mother. White Vans were slid onto Clementine’s feet and her blonde hair was pulled back into pigtails, tied into place with red ribbons.

Florence’s phone buzzed as the toddler was staring at herself in the mirror and she took that moment to open the message from Daniel. Her hopeful smile fell when his response was nothing more than:

Sorry, I’m working today

Clementine’s head poking over the top of her screen made Florence finally look up.

“‘Ack!” Clementine said.

“You wanna see Jack today?” Florence asked.

“Yeah.” Clementine giggled, climbing onto her lap.

“Ok, let’s ask.” Florence didn’t even respond to Daniel before opening her contacts and sending a message to Jack.

~~

An hour later, Callum was gone to his meeting and Florence was waiting at the mall with Penelope and Clementine by her side. Jack had answered right away, saying he and Zach were about to head to the mall anyway and they could meet there for lunch. When the boys arrived and hugs were shared, Jack gladly held Clementine’s hand, the pair walking ahead of the rest of them. Of course, when Jack heard what Clementine wanted to wear, he insisted he wear the matching outfit, the two of them looking like full twins, right down to Jack’s silly red bucket hat to match Clementine’s hair bows.

“Wonder if everyone thinks she’s his.” Zach chuckled from beside Florence as she pushed the stroller.

“Maybe.” Florence scoffed. “Although they’re basically the same height so they probably think siblings.”

“Hey!” Jack turned to frown at her before facing forward again. “You know I’m sensitive about my height.”

The group went to various stores, Florence picking up another box of diapers and wipes, Zach grabbing a new box of pencils and a few notebooks for school, and Jack finding a new skateboard to add to his ever growing collection. Of course, Jack bought Clementine a cherry lollipop, making sure to carry her as she ate it so she wouldn’t choke on it while she walked.

Clementine’s chubby hand pulled the candy from her mouth as she pointed across the bustling hallway with her other, “Dayul!”

Sure enough, Daniel was spotted through the crowd going the opposite direction, Cayleigh on his arm. Clementine’s shrieks caught his attention and once Cayleigh saw them, she just had to say hello. The two groups met in the centre of the crowd, sharing slightly awkward greetings.

“What are you guys doing here?” Zach asked casually.

“Shopping. I needed some new makeup and then we’re going for lunch. Dani’s taking me to a nice restaurant.” Cayleigh beamed, cuddling up close to him.

Daniel simply smiled tightly, his eyes shifting to the sleeping baby in the stroller and he shifted awkwardly before looking to the floor.

“I thought you were working.” Florence said plainly.

Before Daniel could answer, Cayleigh cut in with a, “Nope! He’s got most of the week off which is great!”

“Yeah. That’s nice.” Florence smiled as honestly as she could possibly fake.

Clementine offered Daniel a real smile, holding out her slobbery lollipop to him proudly.

“Looks good, Clem.” Daniel said quietly, running a finger over her hand.

“We’ve been walking around for an hour and bit now. I think we should go eat real food, huh?” Jack said, sensing the awkwardness easily. Anyone could.

“Alright. See you, guys!” Cayleigh said loudly, taking Daniel’s hand in hers before leaning close to Clementine in Jack’s arms. “Bye, Clemmy!”

They quickly disappeared into the crowd. Clementine looked to Jack completely expressionless and he just laughed, turning to Florence who didn’t look too thrilled either and Zach who looked like everything was normal.

“Where are we going to eat?” he asked.

~~

Finally settled at a table in the food court with their trays in front of them, they began to eat their lunch. Florence was clearly upset, jabbing her fork into her salad a bit too aggressively.

“What’s with you?” Zach asked.

“He told me he was working today so we couldn’t go out.” Florence scoffed.

Jack raised his eyebrows over the side of his pop can as he took a sip. He was surprised at how easy they got an answer out of her.

“That’s such a Matt thing to do.” Florence tisked, shaking her head.

Zach laughed loudly at that diss.

“No, I’m not kidding. Matt used to do that shi...stuff all the time.” Florence said, eyeing Clementine who was eating her happy meal on her lap. “He would tell me he’s working and then go party and kiss other girls and like...I thought Daniel and I were fine. Apparently not.”

Zach and Jack shyly exchanged glances that went over Florence’s head.

“I don’t get why he has to lie. Just tell me if you don’t want to hang out.” Florence mumbled.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you.” Jack shrugged.

“Well too late.” Florence sighed. “This has been a whole mess of who’s hurting or not hurting or not wanting to but actually hurting who and it’s so tiring.”

“Yeah. We know.” Jack nodded slowly.

“I miss last summer.” Zach said. “It was so easier.”

“Tell me about it.” Florence agreed. She peeked over the side of the stroller to see the waking baby squirming in her place. “Speak of the devil.”

The sharp cry that followed made Florence visibly cringe as a few people looked their way. She moved Clementine to the empty chair beside her and got to her feet.

“Mind watching her if I go deal with this?” Florence asked the boys.

“Sure.” Zach shrugged. Jack sent her a reassuring smile and Florence pushed the stroller down to the bathroom. There was a room to the side specially for mothers and she locked the door behind her, gently picking up the newborn from the stroller and sat in the armchair. The baby quieted down quickly as she began feeding and Florence watched her silently, the light blue eyes under long lashes against full cheeks and her head of soft, whispy brown hair. She was a gorgeous baby, there was no denying that, but the news from the doctor was still fresh on Florence’s mind.

It was ultimately confusing and Florence found herself continually thinking about it. Sighing with frustration, she let her head fall back against the chair and she took a few calming breaths. She could only hope things would work out; Clementine was arguably raised without a father and she didn’t want the same fate for Penelope either.

The newborn was laid back in the stroller, buckled up safely, and got a kiss pressed to her cheek. Florence took a second to tidy herself up in the mirror. Of course, she couldn’t help but reapply some concealer she had stored in her purse to hide the reappearing dark circles under her eyes. She was so exhausted and consistently anxious. Penelope’s soft cooing still made Florence smile and she peered over the side of the stroller to the baby, her small fists balled up by her face, eyelids heavy as she blinked slowly up at her mother.

“You’re so cute.” Florence whispered, gently tickling the bottom of her tiny clothed feet. The baby’s tongue poked out of her mouth, otherwise still too young to do anything remotely interesting. But even still, it was captivating to the second-time mother, absolutely beaming down at the newborn.

When she was finished admiring her daughter, Florence headed back for the table, finding Clementine on Jack’s lap as Zach was showing him something on his phone, the two laughing together.

“What’s so funny?” Florence asked, parking the stroller beside the table again.

“Look at this picture Jack and I took at Corbyn’s birthday.” Zach passed over his phone to Florence as she sat down.

At first glance, she could see what was so funny, Jack’s half closed eyes and drunk grin paired with the ugly sunglasses that Zach wore over his awkward smile.

“God, that’s a good look on you.” Florence snorted, zooming in on Jack’s expression. The blurry spot of red in the background caught her attention and she scrolled over to it. “That’s me back there!”

Her eyebrows furrowed momentarily as she recognized Daniel’s denim jacket standing with her. Not wanting to make a big deal or create more drama, Florence simply smiled and passed Zach back his phone.

“To be honest, this is a piece of artwork.” Zach said, holding his phone at a distance dramatically as he admired the image at full.

Florence forced a smile, turning back to her unfinished and now warm salad in front of her. She could hazily remember Emilio saying something about how Daniel and she were talking that night but she didn’t take it seriously. Maybe Emilio was telling the truth. Florence was curious as to what they would have talked about in such a state, especially at a point in their relationship that was extremely rough. Regardless, she still missed him, and even if they ‘made up’, she still felt so distanced from the boy who once was her whole world.

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (18)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: A romantic getaway goes just a wee bit awry…

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

Tony’s house is absolutely amazing. Of course, it’s far more than just another getaway spot for the billionaire. It’s the first of several planned (extremely) high-end villas in one of the most sought-after tourist destinations in the world. “He’s actually going to start a resort,” Tessa hums in awe as they enter the ocean-side palace.

“That is correct,” says a voice coming from… somewhere. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” the slightly accented voice goes on after noticing the startled response from Bucky. Tessa is too busy exploring her new surroundings to pay much attention to the computerized creation. Besides, she talks to Friday so much that having a voice in the walls somehow seems completely normal to her. “My name is Nisa.”

Bucky grunts in response. “Makes sense,” he mutters. “When in Rome…”

“Oh, you are not in Rome, sir. You are in Baa Atoll, the Maldives.”

“Thank you,” he deadpans as he finds the master suite and drops off their luggage.

“You’re welcome. Would you like to know a bit about the area?”

In unison, both Bucky and Tessa respond… he with an adamant “No,” and she with an excited, “Yes, please.”

“Perhaps I’ll give you some time to settle into the villa first,” Nisa suggests. “Your chef will arrive at six to prepare your first meal.” Chef, Tessa mouths to Bucky, a look of pure joy on her face. “Until then, you have the villa and surrounding beach to yourselves. Please do let me know if there’s anything I can assist you with.”

“Thank you, Nisa!” Tessa flops down on the king-size bed, splaying her arms and legs out as far as they’ll go. “It’s huge,” she breathes out, turning to roll over onto her stomach. She looks over at Bucky, who’s standing nervously in the doorway, and wiggles her eyebrows at him. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

“It doesn’t make you nervous at all? All of the… tech? The disembodied voices?” He pushes off the doorframe and moves to the side of the bed.

She army crawls over to him and reaches her hands around to grab onto his upper thighs. “Nope,” she says, tugging at him.

He lays his hands on her shoulders to steady himself, seemingly unfazed by her attempts to get him into the bed. His eyes ping suspiciously around the room. “I feel like Stark could be watching us.”

“Ugh,” she lets out dramatically, dropping her hold on him and sitting up onto her knees. “That’s gross.” She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a long, deep kiss. When she releases him and sits back on her heels, she can see that his face is only a teeny bit more relaxed. She rolls her eyes. “Tony’s a lot of things. But he’s not a voyeur.” She scoots to the edge of the bed and jumps up. “His life is far too exciting for him to care about what other people do with theirs.”

“Where are you going?” He spins around to follow her as she glides through the double glass doors. Just outside of the bedroom is a large deck that overlooks the ocean. At the edge of the deck, built into the steep rock face is an infinity pool surrounded by the most beautiful tropical garden.

“I’m dead,” she states, standing stark still in the center of the deck. “I’ve died and gone to Heaven.”

She turns around and takes in Bucky’s expression. He’s gazing out over the serene blue waters, the bright white beach that lies below. He doesn’t seem quite as awestruck as she is, but his face is noticeably more relaxed, and intrigued. He shifts his gaze to her and his face softens even further, a genuine smile taking over. “We should probably go for a swim,” he states simply, a glimmer in his eye.

Tessa takes no time at all stripping down, flipping her flats off and launching them across the deck as she shimmies out of her pants. She doesn’t bother to undo the buttons on her linen shirt, opting instead to yank it off along with the tight tank top underneath. But she somehow gets caught in the two shirts and Bucky has to come rescue her.

He’s laughing like a maniac as he helps to peel the clothing off of her. In the process, some of her hair gets stuck between the metal plates of his palm and she screeches in pain. That only makes him laugh harder. “Hold on,” he says, somewhat out of breath. “Just give me a sec.” And he works the clump of hair loose with his right hand.

Once she’s free, she shakes out her hair and reaches around to undo her bra. “You’re still dressed,” she chides him, noting that he hasn’t so much as removed his shoes.

“Yeah, well, I was going to go inside and change. I didn’t realize we brought bathing suits for nothing.”

She tosses him her bra and shimmies out of her panties. “You heard the disembodied voice. We have the whole place to ourselves.” She cocks a single brow at him and puts her hands on her naked hips. “There are no clothes needed in Heaven,” she says. “So I plan to stay naked all day.”

He breathes out deeply, wide smirk on his face. “I have never loved you more than I do right now,” he says before quickly shedding his shoes and running full force at her. She squeals with surprise as he grabs her and leaps into the pool.

They spend the next several hours either in the pool or right beside it, laughing, kissing, talking, and baking in the sun. They lose all track of time until Nisa calls out to them to tell them that their dinner is ready and waiting in out on the front terrace. Tessa throws on a T-shirt and nothing else. And Bucky can barely focus on anything but that fact… until he actually takes a bite of the food.

“Oh my God,” Tessa moans out, mouth full. “I feel so bad eating this, but it’s soooo good.” She looks over at him and sees a similar look of delight on his face.

“Is it the fact that it still has a face that makes it so much better than other fish?”

“It’s staring at me,” she says, tearing into it with her fork. “But I can’t stop.”

It may well be the best meal either of them has ever eaten.

They head back to the pool after and watch the sun set from matching lounge chairs. Just as Bucky’s about to drift off, he hears the creak of the chair and feels the weight of his girl in his lap. She squeezes her knees tight around his hips and leans down to nibble at his neck. “Wake up,” she whispers in his ear as her fingers lazily drift around his waistband. He grins and sighs contentedly, but doesn’t open his eyes. “I’m naked again,” she singsongs, sitting back on her heels.

He brings both of his hands up to the small of her back and slowly blinks his eyes open. The moon is very nearly full and almost every star is visible in the sky. But all he can see is the beauty sitting before him, her skin luminescent in the moonlight. He runs his fingertips delicately up her sides and tenderly cups each breast. But he makes no move to sit upright, or to speak, or to do anything other than silently gaze up at her.

“What, baby?” she asks with a small frown. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “Absolutely nothing in the world,” he tells her before wrapping her up in his arms and carrying her inside.

000

The rest of their trip is… less than ideal.

They begin Day 2 by waking to crisp, warm sunshine beaming in through the glass doors. Another day in paradise. They decide to start the day with a shower. Together. But the huge rain shower is freshly minted with the smoothest of granite, and the moment that Bucky makes a move to hike Tessa up around his hips, his heel slides out from under him. They both go down. Hard. Bucky splits the back of his head open on the corner of the built-in bench and bleeds everywhere.

“Just stop,” Tessa tells him as he tries to stand back up. “Wait.” She hurriedly tries to scurry over him to get out of the shower and grab some towels. But her feet fly out from under her as well and she drops a knee into Bucky’s gut, knocking the wind out of him.

By the time she manages to get him into bed, the bathroom looks like a murder scene. He refuses any sort of medical treatment – it’ll heal on its own – so she quickly dresses the wound with some gauze from the first aid kit that Nisa directed them to, and positions a towel behind his head in case the dressing starts to weep.

Tessa spends the next hour and a half scrubbing the bathroom. Bucky spends the rest of the day lying in bed, watching as the ceiling spins above him.

That night he starts to feel better, so they take dinner out on the terrace again. It’s amazing and delicious and absolutely perfect. And it seems that their shit day is about to become just another sad, silly memory. Bucky’s already joking about how the worst part was her knobby knee collapsing his diaphragm.

At the dinner table, Tessa embarks on a journey of self-discovery. First, she unearths a new favorite food.

“How have you never had mango?” Bucky asks her.

“I don’t know,” she replies with cheeks full of the sweet, succulent fruit. “But I’m never gonna stop eating it.”

Just a few short minutes later, she makes another discovery – she’s deathly allergic to mango.

They spend the next several hours at the closest hospital. It is not the nice tourist hospital where westerners are treated like the rich near-royalty they often are. This is the place the locals go, and poor locals at that. Neither of them are at all convinced that they’ll make it out of there without a raging staph infection. By the time they finally get back to the villa, it’s almost sunrise and Tessa has so much Benadryl in her system that Bucky has to carry her to bed.

Day 3 consists of Tessa, still somewhat puffy, tossing and turning and scratching at hives while Bucky hangs out by the pool. He falls asleep in the mid-afternoon sun, his metal arm uncovered as it lies beside him on the wooden lounge chair. No big deal. Until he shifts in his sleep and rolls over onto the arm, giving himself a massive second-degree burn across his torso.

Day 4 starts out with Tessa demanding that they get out and do something fun. “Let’s go snorkeling!” she tries.

But Bucky hates the water. Well, he hates the idea of being under the water. Ever since Steve almost drown at Coney Island and he went in after him and got sucked out by a riptide. So… “No. No way in hell.”

The compromise, it seems, is to sit on the beach together all afternoon, silently stewing.

The moment they arrive back at the villa, Nisa tells Tessa that she’s had several phone calls and texts come in from New York. “It’s Claire,” she tells Bucky, as though mentioning the name of her assistant is enough to explain why she has to spend the next four hours combing through some sort of statistical analysis of something on her laptop.

And how is it that the laptop is even here? “I thought I took that out of your bag,” he says, watching her from the doorway to the sitting room. His arms are folded over his chest, his face drawn and pinched.

“You did,” she responds shortly. “Which was rude.” She looks back up at him, takes in his almost threatening posture, and lets out a long, frustrated sigh. “I repacked it,” she says simply, turning her focus to her work.

They do not eat dinner together on the terrace that night.

Day 5, the final day, begins with Bucky waking to find the bed empty, save a note that says simply, Went for a swim. He heads to the far end of the deck that overlooks the beach below, and he sees her lazily floating on her back about thirty feet out. Every so often she rolls over and freestyles against the current for several minutes before pausing to catch her breath and bask in the early morning sun. Then she lets go again and floats closer to the shore. He watches her intently. Observes how relaxed she seems as she lets the ocean guide her, falling back against the waiting water so it can pull her back to where she started. Then, all at once, she’s at it again, fighting the tide, straining to move forward, struggling to get… somewhere.

He shakes his head and lets out a strange, small laugh. “You and me both, babe,” he mutters under his breath. “You and me both.”

[wrathofthewind]

iv. Child

A bowl of hot soup hadn’t been the trick. Once Arnalt had taken that young boy to his palace from the Jungles of Tahr, it required several bowls, more than a few butchered pigs and quite the large amount of bags of rice. The boy was insatiable. It wasn’t a normal appetite either, any stomach would’ve given out. It shouldn’t have been so alarming, but with rumours of his status as a Kurian child, the state in which he arrived, the hunger with which he ate— in an unrefined matter no less, it didn’t take long for the kitchen staff to stop sending out dishes.

“More.” Arnalt demanded, his chilly gaze sweeping over the service.

“Sire… we, we’re not able to continue.”

“What, did we run out of chickens? Is the State in my name so devoid of birds?”

The servant daren’t speak, but they had already crossed a line. Any other household would have them released. That’s probably what they wanted.

“Here then,” Arnalt tossed his bow and signaled with his chin towards the bag of arrows in the corner of the room. “Go hunt something then. Pallax!”

Pallax came walking swiftly.

“Can it be we really ran out of chickens?”

“Sire, they…”

He waited for the servant to clear the room. Nervous glances thrown sideways at both him and Tyssen.

“They don’t want to keep… feeding a Kurian.”

Arnalt pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly rubbed it, eyes closed.

The boy started coughing behind them. Arnalt approached him and slapped his back, making him spit a bone.

“No wonder you’re choking. Slow down!”

Pallax grimaced.

Nobody wanted to touch the Kurian, or look at the Kurian, or acknowledge it was there anymore. But Pallax was a loyal vassal, and willingly stepped in to try and place a fork and knife or other cutlery on the child’s hand.

Arnalt smiled at him brightly. “Thank you.”

It disturbed Pallax momentarily, who nearly dropped the fork. But just as quickly, Arnalt was once again stern-faced and pacing the room. He then sat in front of the child on the table.

“You.”

The boy didn’t pay attention, so he snapped his fingers in front of his face to draw his eyes. “Yes, you. What’s your name?”

“Mar… Marius.” He tried to speak between mouthfuls. “Marius Ihnat di Aedan.”

“So you do speak.” And had a strong name actually. Arnalt had already assumed the boy probably came from a wealthy merchant family, with the quality of his tattered clothes and the few jeweled accessories they found in his pockets. It seemed he might be of one with rank and title too.  

“What about your age? You look about 7? 8? Do you know how to count?” Arnalt raised his palm up to try and signal the numbers with his fingers.

“12.” He chewed the remaining bits of rice and potatoes in his mouth and swallowed briskly, immediately reaching for another bowl of soup and drinking it down, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with large gulps.

Arnalt and Pallax both blinked, looked at each other, then back at Marius.

“That’s… then why do you look so…” Pallax said.

Arnalt lifted a hand to stop him. “Nevermind, so you’ve been quite hungry haven’t you?”

Marius nodded and finally seemed to be done with the food he could safely consume. He burped generously and quickly covered his mouth.

Arnalt snorted, while Pallax looked offended beyond belief. “Such lack of manners in front of his Highness, how dare—“

“It’s alright, he doesn’t understand what I am.”

“You’re the prince.” Marius said simply, his eyes suddenly wide and honest. “You’re the seventeenth prince, his royal highness Arnalt Azuria. The Eagle.”

He sounded like a pamphlet. Arnalt was mildly shocked. “Right.”

“…”

“Where are you from?”

“…”

“How did you end up in the Jungles?”

“…”

And the most difficult question. “Where are your parents.”

“They’re gone.” Marius looked down, fixating on his lap.

“I see.” Arnalt didn’t know what else to say.

“I know what they say. I know I’m cursed. Is it true this is my last meal?”

A lightbulb suddenly popped in Arnalt’s head. He started laughing heartily, slamming his fist on the table and shaking all over with his head lowered. “Is this why you’ve eaten all my chickens? Hahaha!”

Pallax was mortified.

Marius’s eyes watered.

“You silly child. I was just confirmed and crowned into the Azurian pantheon thanks to that Vegna Spyralia you carried in your fist.” Arnalt felt his face grow a little hot suddenly, having called him a child wasn’t quite right, considering he was only 4 years younger, but his body looked so young he couldn’t help himself. He wondered how long he’d been malnourished in those Jungles. It must’ve been several years. How did he learn to speak so eloquently? Why did he know his name, rank and title? How was he informed of the goings on of the world? Did he sneak out of Tahr? He might’ve unknowingly contaminated others so Arnalt made a mental note to order a full territory sweep. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, I’ve granted you my Mercy. You will not die under my watch, you hear me?”

The boy’s wet eyes blossomed, his arm immediately coming up to wipe at his suddenly wet cheeks.

Arnalt thought it was both a silly and happy occasion, so he kept laughing to Pallax’s horror. “Now, now, no need to cry. You’re safe.”

“I see.” Marius said, his voice trembling. “In that case…” he sniffed and composed himself, straightening his shoulders. “Use me as you will. I pledge myself to your house.” Marius lowered his head solemnly. It was a bit amusing coming from someone so young, who looked so much younger than his age.

Arnalt smiled, his chin resting leisurely on the back of his hand. “As you wish.”

***

With the battle aganist Ithana squared away and scheduled, and a few other council duties and reprimands already brought over to his desk, Arnalt wrapped up the final tasks of the day and went back to the kitchen quarters. 

He entered Marius’s chambers like a sudden gust, a heavy bag strapped on his back.

Marius instantly moved to stand from the bed where he’d been resting from his relentless training, no doubt ready to assist with the bag, but Arnalt had already sat down in front of him, and Marius remained with his torso raised but the rest of him firmly laying on the bed. He awkwardly tried shifting so that he could at least move into a more formal sitting position, even if the coarse robes he wore could never lend an air of formality to the situation, at the very least his posture could contribute. Next to him was a bowl of hot soup made with chicken stock, boiled chicken strips, corn and sliced potatoes, prepared exactly as they’d been years ago when he was still a child.

Arnalt had gone to the kitchen to order it and asked the staff to keep it coming throughout the night. Naturally he wouldn’t deliver something like that himself, and he didn’t want to make it so important that Marius would suddenly inquire about it.

A servant came in with another bowl and this time Arnalt waved a hand. “Alright that’s the final one, you’re dismissed and no need to send more until the morning.”

The servant quietly placed the bowl on the small wooden table next to Marius’s bed and just as quietly shuffled out of the room--their steps eagerly faster as they were allowed to leave.

Arnalt kept staring with an icy glare which to others would’ve seemed combative but to Marius merely showed Arnalt was deep in thought. It was still a little nerve-wracking, his whole countenance was already so cool and refined, like a porcelain doll with marble grey eyes. At times it felt like staring into a storm, and others like speaking to a stone. The eerie silence begged to be broken.  

“So, now can I say this is my last meal?” Marius said.

Arnalt was surprised by the sheer cheek of that remark. “Your humor is astounding.” And also how perceptive! Just like that, the porcelain glimmered back to life and a bit of peachy softness rose up, as if Arnalt was ashamed to have found that particular joke charming. 

“My impulse is to punish you, everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done, it’s all led to this. This is your fault. You need to bear responsibility. I did my best to warn you and you still won’t listen. And don’t say your duty is to protect me.” Arnalt pre-emptively raised his hand to pause Marius’s reply. “Your duty, first and foremost is to serve, and to listen. I expect my orders followed. Now with everything coming up, this time you will follow instructions precisely or so help me Aegerian gods I will deliver you to the Glaes Winterlands myself.”

Marius glanced at Arnalt’s fist. It was clenched unconsciously. Arnalt quickly released it. 

“Tomorrow, I’ll duel Ithana to secure a vote in your favor in the High Council.”

“As if a vote would matter much...” Marius muttered.

“Of course a vote matters for shit.” Arnalt exclaimed. “I’ll just act as a distraction.”

“My Lord-- why would... that’s not--” Marius looked deeply uncomfortable and ready to jump in and make some bold statement, but Arnalt cut in before he could even start.

“And you, so-called hellhound of Kur,” Arnalt threw the bag he’d been carrying on his back on the ground, a weight off his shoulders that was so visible his body practically lifted once he’d let that bag go, “you’ll run away.”

Marius paled. 

“This is where we say our goodbyes. May you have a good life.”

He couldn’t understand why Marius looked so shocked, or why his fists clenched. 

True, his life might be difficult outside of the palace of the 17th Prince, but he could manage at least a few weeks on his own before anyone recognized his identity. There were ways to hide the marks that made him a Kurian. Either way, the boy had been extensively trained and should if anything find some manual labor in a small village somewhere. 

They both heard a few hard steps and then the door slid, Tyssen had entered and bowed quickly. “Your highness, I’ve arranged everything.”

“Tyssen will brief you on your escape route.” Arnalt stood up.

Marius quickly rose to his feet. “My Lord, wait I—!”

“Make sure he memorizes that map tonight and have him equipped by dawn. I’ll try to keep the battle going until noon.”

Even Tyssen’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to contradict. He bowed once more. “Yes, your Highness, and-- Calm down you!” He pushed Marius back and locked the door as Arnalt left.

Arnalt heard Marius yelling behind him. “My Lord please reconsider. This is impossible! My Lord listen—!”

But Arnalt quickly walked away to avoid changing his mind. This was as much as he could do, battle Ithana until his body gave out, at least by then Marius would have escaped, and he would’ve kept his word.

Marius would absolutely not die under his watch. And he’d already made as much use of Marius’s oath as he could. The boy had downright become a liability anyway. 

Even if the idea of remaining in the arena, standing, for seven hours straight against Ithana… was probably exactly as Marius had said: impossible.

Well fuck impossible.

Arnalt unconsciously gripped his Aerial ring between two fingers and turned it nervously. After a while, he’d already let go.