#ah well. love it for me [i say through gritted teeth as i very gracefully ignore my whole body hurting]

[sollucets]

could a depressed person [post three gifsets in one day] i think NOT

[multi--kpop--fanfics]

There’s Blood On The Crown

prince!Xiaojun x queen!reader

genre: angst, horror, royalty!AU

warnings: heavy dark themes (blood, major character death, betrayal)

Part of THE CROWN - a collab call by @earth-to-that-asian​

Word count: ~1.7k 

Author’s note: The fic was beta read by @jaemotel and @intokook , who also made the header (thanxx bby💕). Inspired by the song Intro: Crown by Purple Kiss

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What do you say,

What if I ruled the world?

“Now, you may rise, Your Majesty, Queen Y/N”, the priest announces and you rise from your knees, the diamond crown resting proud but heavy on your head. You walk towards the balcony of the castle and look down, where the rest of the civilians awaited for you. You were their Queen now, the one who would guide them through thick and thin, especially after your beloved husband’s death, the late King Kun. 

“All hail the Queen!”, the crowd chants as you raise your hand and wave, the beaming smile on your face acting as a facade, masking your true feelings - uncertainty, sorrow and most importantly, fear.

Fear, because you trusted no one in the council. They never liked you in the first place, not only because you were the late King’s wife, but because you were also a very skilled fighter, one of your most valuable assets, hence why you were the Grand General of your kingdom before getting married to Kun. 

These weasels hated seeing a woman in power, simply because they wanted that power for themselves. But none of them had the guts to step up and claim the crown. They only knew how to scheme, bribe and conduct murders without ever getting blood on their hands.

There was only one person you could trust, the only one who truly recognized your strength and dedication to the crown - Prince Xiaojun, Kun’s brother and your brother-in-law. He was the only one who welcomed you with a warm smile and would always be respectful towards you. Everyone in the kingdom knew of his gentle nature and the civilians were always delighted to see the two of you take walks through the town. He treated you like family. And family is always there for you, just like Xiaojun today. You turn your head back and smile at him, an equal smile spreading across his handsome face. However, by the time you have turned your head back, his smile is instantly replaced by a clenched jaw and a stern gaze, burning with hatred and jealousy.

Nobody knows

It means nothing to me

Xiaojun enters the throne room, fully-armored, his sword sheathed on his back and his hunting knives strapped on his sides. You were seated in the throne, your white cape falling gracefully around you, the diamond crown and your silver chest armor shining from the sunlight that is creeping through the colored glass windows. Your image is a sheer contrast to Xiaojun’s, his armor being pitch-black, almost resembling an angel of Death.

“Ah, Xiaojun, what a delight to see you!” you state, smiling to him. “I haven’t seen you wear this armor in a long time. May I ask what’s the occasion?” you ask with curiosity. “I have decided to go hunting” he replies nonchalantly and you smile even wider, unaware of the true meaning behind his words. “That’s wonderful! Perhaps I could join you? I’ve been dying to leave the castle gates and get my blood boiling through some action” you slightly pout, albeitly tired from sitting around and letting your armor and sword get rusty. 

He chuckles at your reaction and he unsheathes one of the daggers from his arm and traces his finger along the edge of the blade. “I will not have to leave the castle to go hunting… In fact, my prey is right in this very castle” he states and takes slow yet steady steps towards your direction. “I-I don’t think I follow..” you stutter, fear starting to take over your senses. “What I am trying to say, dear Y/N, is that my true prey is not just within this castle - It’s right in front of me”. The realization then hits you.

It’s invisible but you know it’s mine

So where do you see yourself?

“You want the throne?”, you ask in shock, not wanting to believe that the one person you trusted ever since you stepped your foot in the castle was the one who wanted your fall. “I don’t want just the throne. I want the power that comes along with it”, Xiaojun admits, his ominous gaze fixated on you. The imminent danger awakes you and you yell with all your power towards the throne door.

“GUARDS!” and within seconds, your two strongest guards barge through the throne room, clad in heavy armor. “Prince Xiaojun has attempted murder against the Queen and is hereby guilty of commiting betrayal to the Crown. Seize him at once!” you yell and the guards point their weapons towards Xiaojun, who has seemingly raised his arms in surrender. “The accusations Her Majesty has made against me are completely false!”, he bites back, “Besides, I haven’t attempted murder..”, he adds and silently pulls out another dagger from his sleeve, “..Yet”. 

In a split second, he throws the daggers towards the guards and he hits them both in the blind spot of their armor, their cloth-covered necks, the sharp blades of the dagger cutting through the flesh. The guards are now flat on the marble floor, their lives slowly slipping away from their bodies that lay in blood. After recovering his daggers from the dead bodies, Xiaojun hears the familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed. He turns to you and he sees you holding your sword, your cape discarded on the floor, standing a few meters away from him.

“Finally, the queen has stepped down from her throne!” he spits, his voice dripping venom. "The Queen has a crown and she will do everything to protect it. Even if it means killing the prince", you prepare yourself and get into a fighting stance. "How ironic, to share the same goal at a moment like this", Xiaojun points out and unsheathes the sword from his back, "It's a shame you won't be alive to witness my success".

I am running for the crown

I keep breathing when you drown

You charge at Xiaojun with full speed, your sword in a secure hold. He throws a dagger at you to cut off your advance, but you duck down in the last second and you avoid it, closing the distance between you in the meantime. You fling your sword upwards, in an attempt to cut through his waist armor, but he is fast enough to parry your attack with his own sword. "You're fast, I'll give you that. But not fast enough", he mocks and pulls another dagger from his thigh, landing a deep cut on your forearm, making you cry out in pain.

The blood is staining your pristine blouse, but you don't care - you only want to stay alive in order to defeat Xiaojun. You kick his knee with full force and he groans, falling on his knees. "You know better than underestimating my skills, Xiaojun", you hatefully spit back and get up. You switch your blade to your intact arm and swing it towards his face, but he raises his arm and catches the blade mid-air. "I don't - I'm just reminding you how inferior your skills are compared to mine" he replies and holds the blade still, his fist now bleeding from the sharp edge. "You haven't even landed a proper cut on me, yet your arm is still bleeding from a mere dagger", he continues and stands on his feet, twisting his arm and the blade as well. 

You grit your teeth as you fight back the pain from your own arm being twisted and you lift your leg to kick him in the face, but alas, he's fast enough to swing his sword again and land another cut on you, this time on your leg. You feel the muscle joints being ripped apart and you scream once again, the blood gushing from the fresh wound. Xiaojun takes advantage of your vulnerable state and pulls the sword out of your grasp and throws it at the other side of the throne room. He then kicks you on the chest and you fall flat on your back, the diamond crown falling from your head. You try to stand your ground, but Xiaojun immobilizes you with his own body.

"It's truly a pity, Y/N. We could have been the most powerful and loved royals in the world… But you just had to fall in love with the fool of my late brother, didn't you?", he asks and caresses your cheek, the pretentious affection making you scrunch your face with disgust. "You will never be like Kun, you monster" you grit your teeth with anger, "Do you know why? Because he was always faithful to the people. Because the people are the true crown-" 

You never get to finish your sentence, as a dagger is piercing your throat, ridding you incapable of breathing. The stream of blood starts pooling around your spasming body, staining the marble floor, your clothes and the diamond crown that lays next to your head.

I believe myself no doubt

Xiaojun watches your last moments with a blank expression on his face, still on top of you. "Ironic, isn't it? The King and his Queen, dying by the same hand, clad in the same armor. Truly, the most perfect of tragic endings". You are unable to answer, the last of his words dealing the finishing blow to your form. You have stopped moving and a single tear falls from his face. "Even in death, you are still the most beautiful woman I've seen in my whole life, Y/N" he whispers and leans in to kiss your now lifeless lips. "Worry not, my love, you may meet your beloved husband now. The crown is in good hands".

He stands up and takes the blood-stained crown in his hands. He places it on top of his head, the blood dripping on his soft blonde locks. He slowly walks towards the throne, the edge of his sword scraping the marble floor and creating a line from the blood on it - your blood. He looks at the painting that rests above the throne, a painting of you and King Kun smiling fondly, wearing the same crown that now rests on Xiaojun's head. 

"You know, both of you were wrong. I never betrayed the crown. In fact, I was the only one who did everything to protect it", he speaks as he sits down on the throne, "And I succeeded, my beloved family. All thanks to you. You may now rest in peace", Xiaojun says with a soft smile on his face, making him look like an angel. 

An angel of Death.

My Lord

How come I never lost my faith?

[jangmi-latte]

Can I request a NSFW Kalim one shot where he’s actually very dominate (Sees a bit of bondage 😉😉)

❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 ❞

➻ content: a meal with sweet – oh! pardon me! i have spilled your milk!

➻ warnings: nsfw, mentions of alcohol

➻ comments: three customers wanting EXTRA spicy deluxe meals i see. wasn't the sub kalim enough to satisfy your needs? well well, let this chef give you something very spicy then! i squealed. ngl. i  fucking squealed. literally grinning from ear to ear as my fingers go whoosh 

this is long...

Encouraging cheers and heels clacking the floor echoed throughout the dance studio. One might think it’s rehearsals for some upcoming events. Maybe. It’s more focused on the fun, actually. Surely, it can be a form of exercise to get the body moving, the art of some sort that involves getting creative with your movements.

It’s always the grace you bring no matter the genre of the dance. Something both you and Kalim shared. A passion and talent as people would say. No school to intervene nor priorities to think through. The Land of Hot Sands is home to those who want to have fun.

Kalim had his arms behind his back, leaning on them as he sat on the floor, laughing and talking to those he has become acquainted with. “y/n, it’s your turn!” came from someone within the studio. Red eyes came to look over at your crouched form, scanning over through the songs as you grin made its way to your face. “Got it!” you called back before calling over for your best friend. 

Lips stretching in a blinding grin, Kalim cupped his palms around his mouth and screamed, “Don’t hold back, y/n!” 

You smiled, winking at your boyfriend, and bounced on your feet before turning away from the others. Kalim was sat in front of the wide studio mirror, he can directly see you without any disturbances. You did say you were working on a certain choreography and how excited you were to show it to him. This was your chance to show off and for him to give his full support.

The studio slowly fell into hush whispers as the music began playing. No one had any idea besides you and your friend on what kind of dance you were dancing. 

Lights out. Music blasting.

You confidently, effortlessly, and gracefully bent over, your hand tracing up your leg before facing everyone with a sultry walk. Swaying your hips to the beat as your hands would brush against your ass and hips. Kalim cheered along with the others, his eyes never left your form. Until you dropped to the floor in a smooth split, rolling over on your knees, and standing back up again. 

Unbeknownst to him, he was slowly growing affected.

An acquaintance of Kalim began to give out some refreshments. Peach Sangria Popsicles. Poptails, to be exact. Fruits and alcohol in one dessert. Not often would someone get drunk over one popsicle. “Kalim, do you want one?”

“Sure!” agreed the called male as he was given a popsicle. Jamil, who was just a foot away from Kalim looked over. “Are you sure you can handle that?” he asked, not wanting to drag his drunk master back home or even risk getting in danger just because of him. Nodding, Kalim ate the dessert as he continued to watch you.

What he believes was already the chorus, he has grown silent. Eyes subconsciously going over your body as you crouched down, knees open before sliding to your sides, and laying on your chest. Your legs perching your ass up as you swayed it. Rolling over, your legs stretching towards your sides as you gracefully stood up.

“You better stop, oh you better stop..” came the lyrics.

Kalim shook his head and ate the whole popsicle with ease. Swallowing the hot alcohol that burned his throat. Has he forgotten he was a lightweight drinker? Just how much alcohol was in that popsicle? He shook his head, maybe it was just how strong the alcohol was. He’ll be fine.

He gazed at you once more. The song was nearly over yet everything seems so loud. Kalim blinked his eyes and gulped down his saliva. He feels warm. Only then was he snapped out of his senses when he heard clapping and compliments. He looked at you, you were panting and holding a big smile on your face. You really did enjoy your dance. He stood up, his own smile stretching towards his lips, and welcomed you in his arms. 

“You did amazing!”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Thank you!” 

Kalim completely ignored what he felt just a couple of seconds ago. Your friend has approached you with two poptails and spoke, “Here. To celebrate ourselves in completing that dance.” She winked as you rolled your eyes, giggling. You gave the other poptail to your boyfriend, he willingly took it, before eating it.

“You’re not against me dancing like that?” you suddenly asked as Kalim tilted his head. “Why would I be? It’s just dancing! Besides, I love it when everyone is cheering for you.” He smiled and pecked your lips. How lucky you are to have a supportive boyfriend.

Another poptail was consumed.

“Don’t worry, Jamil. I’ll look after him.”

You smiled at the younger male and closed the door once he left. You sighed and walked over to Kalim. “You’ve been quiet. Are you okay?” you asked, concerned, seeing him laying on his bed and an arm over his eyes. He didn’t respond. You noticed his adam’s apple bobbing up like he was continuously swallowing his saliva. He sucked on his bottom lip before releasing it from his teeth.

“Kalim...” you called and crawled over beside him. What has made your bubbly ray of sunshine turn quiet? Your hand reached to remove the arm from his eyes, repeating, “Kalim–”

In a blur, Kalim pushed your hand away from his arm and had you pinned under him. Both his knees beside your waist, his elbows beside your head, and his head buried on the crook of your neck. He was breathing heavily. You could feel his lips graze on your neck and how he would inhale your scent at every nuzzle. 

You were speechless and unintentionally turned on.

“I took too much,” came his muffled grunt.

“Took too much of what?” you stuttered out and gulped. Your hand slowly going through his hair. “Those– y/n...” he cut himself off and lifted himself until his forehead was on yours. His eyes were closed and his eyebrows were scrunched down like he was trying to get rid of some tension.

“Kalim, tell me what’s wrong.” Tipsy? Headache? 

Was it the poptails he ate?

“Your dance...” he began, momentarily pressing his lips on yours. He was being so bold, it surprised you as you felt butterflies in your stomach. “y/n, I feel hot.”

Fuck.

You bit your lower lip, your eyes moving to look at his pants. He was hard already. How sultry of your dance to seduce even the liveliest man in the land of hot sands. Your hand went up to his biceps, tracing through his shoulders before down to his chest and stomach. “I’ll help you...” you whispered.

His desperate lips slammed on yours, sloppily yet so hungry. The hand that was raked through his hair now gripped and tugged on his locks. Your other hand went up his shirt, gripping it from the inside, and pulled him closer. The sounds both your lips were producing, along with the heated pants, was making your pussy tingle. 

“Are you sur– “

“Yes, Kalim. Yes,” you panted, feeling him drift his lips towards the sides of your neck. Your eyes closed and breathless moans left your lips. His teeth nipping on your skin and a hand pulling on the yoke of your shirt to reveal more of your shoulder and collarbone. He greedily sucked on the skin above your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine as you arched your neck more. 

The Kalim Al Asim dominating you was something you never knew you needed.

Heaving, he sat up and swiftly remove his shirt with his headband falling off. You took this chance to remove yours, along with your sports bra. Lust and alcohol running up in both your veins. Both of you weren’t drunk, yet being intoxicated was gearing up your libido fast. He took the headband and both your wrists, quickly tying them together. You stared at your tied up wrists in surprise and back up at Kalim.

You have never felt so wet.

 “Does it hurt? Too tight?” he asked as he got off you. Still speechless, you shook your head no. “Good,” he breathed out before pulling your shorts and underwear down. You squealed and looked away. “Kalim!” His fingers rubbed your throbbing clit, collecting your wetness as he slipped both fingers inside your tight walls.

No, it wasn’t your first time with Kalim. However, it was your first time seeing him this horny and dominant. He has never taken the lead this serious. You were absolutely down to submit to him either way.

Panting through gritted teeth, you arched your back as your head dug through the mattress. Your legs twitching and wanton moans fell through your lips like a waterfall. “Ngh–hah! Kalim...kal-ah!” you breathed and looked down. Watching his fingers easily slide in and out your walls. The sounds of your pussy squelching around his fingers as he pounded them into you. 

“More...” you moaned and spread your legs wider. Kalim hummed and smiled, pulling his fingers out of you before looking at them. Strings of clear sticky liquid stretched in between his fingers as he licked them clean. “I can’t wait anymore.”

He hovered above you once more, pants down and your legs locking on the sides of his torso as he slipped his cock deep into you. Letting your pussy swallow him whole, tightening around him as he began to slam his hips on yours. Skin slapping immediately resonated around the room along with Kalim’s growing moans and your whines. So desperately wanting to touch him yet your hands stayed still on your stomach. 

You arched your neck, capturing his lips into yours, messily letting his tongue wander in your mouth and muffling each other’s moans. “Mngh..” breathed Kalim, his thrusts speeding up as your moans grew louder. He pulled away, his eyebrows scrunched as he was consumed by pleasure. You lifted a leg up to his shoulder. “There!” you moaned loudly as his cock penetrated areas deeper in your cunt.

Heavy pants and moans growing higher in pitch, the bed squeaking under the both of you as his thrusts grew sloppy. “y/n–argh...” Kalim panted before biting his lower lip harshly. You gasped, looking down once more to see his cock pound into you so feverishly. You were growing close to cumming the more you watch your cunt suck his cock. “y/n..I’m cumming–” he breathed.

“Fuck!” you screamed, squirting out with your hips jolting in an uncontrollable spasm. Kalim’s breath halted as he pulled out of you, his cum littering your chest and stomach. Both of you silently panting before your beloved rolled over beside you, calming down from your high as your arousal slowly simmered down. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Kalim suddenly mumbled worriedly as he looked at you. His hands reaching over to untie the cloth from around your wrists. You gave him a tired smile, responding, “You did the exact opposite, actually. You surprised me.”

Blinking, Kalim covered his face with the cloth and whined. “I shouldn’t eat those popsicles again!”

And he’s back to being the sunshine he is.

[tarasylnin-lavellan]

Of Freedom and Falling

Tarasyl'nin stood with her brother on the vast cliffs of the Storm coast, her face was drawn and tired. Great black eagles rode the air currents around them their sleek bodies gliding through the turbulent air with ease. Dorian scowled looking down at Tara, "darling you cannot be serious about this, I know that you have been trying to shapeshift for a while now, but this? this is insane even for us." Tara's brow furrowed in frustration "the spirit that I am bound to...it is unbending if it is to ever allow me to change my shape, it must be life or death. I must give it no choice, this is too important I cannot bend on this." Blue light coiled out from her in a clear protest but she gritted her teeth and it receded into her skin. Dorian sighed in resignation he knew the sound of his sisters stubborn pride, she would not stop. “Must you do this in such a dramatic way darling? I mean leaping from a cliff to win a battle of wills is worthy of the imperium.” Tara turned to him laughing softly, her features relaxing for a moment. Dorian marveled at how truly beautiful she was like that, without the strain of her mask, she seemed a whole different person. Her raven hair swirled around her in gusting wind “if I am to fly Isa’ma’lin I want to fly here in the heart of the storms.” Tara turned her eyes to the sky “I need this brother, I need to know that I am still free, that I am still me. I need one thing that this path cannot take from me.” Her eyes reflected the years of restriction, the strain that the responsibility that had been forced on her had created. 

Dorian nodded knowing when he was outplayed, “well then we had best hope that this works, Cullen will kill me too if you dash yourself on the waves and I just watch.” Tara nodded somberly “it will work it has to, I have tried everything else that Lady Morrigan has suggested.” Dorian stepped back and gestured grandly at the edge, “your death or freedom await my lady.” Tara sprinted for the cliff fade stepping to gain speed and launched herself into the air, black curls whipping in the air. Justice bucked in anger and frustration, an old spirit that did not wish to change. Tara had done her duty, she had sealed the breach she had closed every rift, she would not be stopped now. SHIFT she roared in her mind, time slowed as the pair struggled for supremacy. She held on grimly DO IT OR WE BOTH DIE, she could not, would not let this go. She needed the sky she pushed her soul toward the shape of the eagles that soared around her. She demanded that this be her shape, she had asked Morrigan to teach her as a favor for allowing the human to take the well of sorrows. She held her resolve as the pair plummeted toward the crashing waves unbending unbreaking the decision had already been made. She would fly or she would fall, she would be free either way. At last she felt her power change and violet smoke curled around her body the spirit finally accepting the shape that she demanded.

Vast black wings stretched from her and her powerful talons scraped the waves water spraying away from her. She beat her wings in the air climbing straight for the clouds. She heard Dorian cheering in joy beneath her, I will allow this one shape the thought rose in Tara’s mind as she soared. Agreed Haren Tara couldn't care less this was the only thing she had ever truly demanded be given to her. The world beneath her was silenced and the quiet of the air surrounded her. She felt peace in her soul for the first time in memory, the peace of solitude, of freedom. She had struggled toward this goal for years, fighting within herself battling the static nature of the spirit that she was irrevocably bonded to. 

But this was her line in the Sand, Tara would not be denied this she would join the sky or die trying. She turned gracefully banking toward the cliffs, she could see Cullen approaching Dorian, creators! her eyes were so keen. "Where is Tara?" Cullen looked around for her, he had decided to accompany them on this particular expedition wishing the break from his duties. Dorian smirked "oh she has a few projects up in the air..." Cullen squinted at him "what are you talking about?" Tara could see her lover looking around for her. A mischievous thought coiled through her, this was going to be fun. She dove down swooping toward Dorian letting out a screech to warn him. 

Dorian nonchalantly held a gauntleted hand out, he had been trained to be a falconer in Tevinter. Cullen saw the massive eagle coming toward them and took a step back in alarm. Tara landed on Dorian's gauntlet a little awkwardly but managed to save it, she ruffled her feathers and looked at Dorian. Cullen looked in shock at the bird "MAKER BREATH!" Cullen watch the bird with alarmed eyes "how did you manage to tame a storm eagle Dorian!" Dorian guffawed turning to Tara with a raised eyebrow "you go for the dense ones don't you?" Tara clicked her beak and annoyance and thumped him with one of her wings. "Ouch you are truly a harpy now" Dorian laughed as the eagle glared at him in a very familiar way.  Cullen's eyes turn to her, he looked closer the the eagle resting on Dorian's arm. The bird's feathers weren't quite right not the true pitch black of a storm eagle, but a black tinged with violet and her eyes they were pale purple? He felt disbelief flood him there was no way... "Tara?”

He felt foolish even saying it sure that this was one of the Tevinter’s jokes. Dorian turned his gaze at Cullen "ah the Templar gets there in the end I suppose." Tara leapt from Dorian's arm shifting back to her original form Violet smoke pooling around her. She was smiling a delighted grin, laughing out loud "you should have seen your face ma vhenan!"  Cullen looked at her in shock he didn't think that she could do any other form of magic! "I thought that you said that the spirit wouldn't let you!" Cullen's words tripped over themselves as he stared at her. She was still grinning when she replied "She didn't at first, I gave her a choice let me shift or die." Dorian rolled his eyes "The lunatic launched herself off a cliff so that the spirit had to change or they would both perish."  Cullen rounded on the younger man "and you just watched it!" Dorian scoffed "do you honestly believe that I could stop her, Tarasyl'nin Lavellan if she truly wished this?"

Tara scowled "I didn't ask anyone's permission to do this, I needed this." Cullen's eyes widening an alarm "Tara love you could have died! How could you-" " I did not die” she cut him off briskly “I have played by the rules for years, I have served those who would revile me. I need to know in my heart that I can get away...." Tears formed in her pale eyes and she looked away. "I have given up everything, my home, my people, my very sense of self... I cannot, I will not, lose my freedom, I will not be caged."  Dorian went to her wrapping her in his arms, glaring accusingly at Cullen. Cullen swallowed heavily, skyhold and never been a prison to him, but he could see how his lover would see it that way. He strode to her side and Dorian backed away "I will leave you two to your discussion" he said briskly and strode away.

 Cullen took her hands in his and breathed out slowly, “forgive me vhenan, you frightened me is all, I couldn't stand to lose you... please...don't do anything like this again.” Tara looked up at him tears in her eyes “I am sorry that I scared you ma’atish but I had run out of options, I couldn’t let this go.” He nodded knowing that she had been fighting for this for years. “Just please be careful my love, I need you, please don't leave me here alone.” Tara rested her head on his chest relaxing against him “I will stay vhenan, for you.”

[justjeonday]

Always you | jeon jeongguk

You usually hate walking to the convenience store, but with Jeongguk it’s anything but boring.

— pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

— genre: established relationship, fluff - so much fluff, boyfriend!jeongguk

— word count: 2,690

— warnings: none

— notes: so, this is my first time ever posting something I’ve written on here - and I’m really nervous. Idk if I’ve done all of this right lol, I tried. I spent a few days working on this piece, and it’s nothing huge or anything - just a simple idea that popped into my head. I hope you enjoy, feedback is very welcome. Thank you :’)

— disclaimer(?): I spell ”Jungkook” as Jeongguk throughout this whole thing, cause that’s just how I naturally tend to spell it out. I hope this won’t bother anyone, if it does I’m sorry lol. I also apologize for any typos, it feels like I might’ve missed some although I looked through it multiple times.

Your boyfriend’s hot breath against your neck leaves goosebumps rising on your skin, but you manage to ignore it - waiting for the woman behind the desk to pack your bag. However, just a few seconds later you feel him leaving light kisses over the most sensitive area just below your ear. You turn slightly to nudge him away with your shoulder.

”Will you stop it?” You whisper as you look at him.

Jeongguk just looks back at you with amusement visible on his face. He sure loves teasing you in public. You snicker at him, shaking your head as you turn back to grab the bag of snacks the cashier is holding out for you. You thank her and make your way out of the small store, Jeongguk following closely behind.

”I’ll take that for you,” He insists, taking the bag from your hand before you can protest.

The cold air hits you just as hard as when you left your apartment twenty minutes ago, causing you to shiver as you step outside.

Snow had been falling ever since this morning, a white blanket now covering the ground beneath you. It looks beautiful, sparkling as the city lights reaches the surface of it. It’s rare snow actually stays on the ground here in Seoul, only occurring once or twice a year. You love it like this. Even though the temperature feels unbearable at times, with the weather getting colder it prompts for a lot of cuddling.

And in your opinion, there can never be enough cuddling.

In fact, before this very spontaneous adventure to the store you and Jeongguk had been cuddling while enjoying some random K-drama you found. After watching the two main characters share a bag of snacks, the two of you started craving just that.

”Should we go?” Jeongguk had asked, shifting his head in your lap to look up at you.

You removed your hand from his hair, reaching out to check the time on your phone.

11:39.

You looked down at him. ”Should we?”

After much contemplating whether you should go or not, you guys put your jackets on - getting ready to go to a nearby convenience store despite the fact that it was close to midnight by the time you guys left.

You’re now on your way back home, walking side by side with interlaced fingers. Seoul at night is probably one of your favorite things. You love how all the lights and neon signs beautifully illuminate the world around you, how they gracefully dance across Jeongguk’s honey-colored skin.

”Wait.”

You stop at your boyfriend’s sudden demand, turning to him in confusion.

You see him searching for something in the pockets of his jacket. ”What’s wrong?” You say.

A few seconds later, you see his fingers wrapped around his vintage camera. In spite of the smile sneaking its way onto your lips, you roll your eyes at him. ”Really?”

”What?” He says, smiling.

”When did you even manage to bring that thing?”

”This thing happens to be my favorite camera, do you know what I use it for?” He begins, fiddling with it as he speaks.

You raise your eyebrows questioningly, gesturing for him to continue.

”I use it to capture things I find beautiful-” He says, eyes locking with yours. ”- Being with someone as beautiful as you, I’ll always have it with me.”

He looks at you with a smirk on his lips, knowing you’ll be blushing at his words. You do, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks as your heart swells in awe. You truly feel as if you don’t deserve someone as good as him, but oh how happy you are that the two of you found each other. With him you feel like the luckiest person walking this earth.

”Now smile for me please,” He brings the camera up in front of his face, ready to take a photo.

You do as told, letting him take all the pictures he desires before intertwining your fingers with his again and continuing your walk home. You never really like being in photos, but since you started dating Jeongguk you’ve gotten used to him randomly wanting to take photos of you. Even if that’s in the morning when you’re making breakfast, your hair still a mess — you let him take a photo, knowing he’ll keep it to himself unless you give him consent to do otherwise.

It makes you feel special, like you’re one of a kind.

”Ah, cold,” Your boyfriend says, sucking in air through gritted teeth and holding your hand tighter.

You look at him, a giggle escaping your lips. ”I told you to wear your gloves.”

”I couldn’t find them,” He says with a frown forming on his face. ”How come your hands never get cold?” He pouts.

It’s kind of strange actually, how rare it is your hands get cold.

”I don’t know,” You laugh.

”It’s so unfair, I bet you have superpowers or something.”

”Like what?”

”Heat manipulation.”

”How epic, feel free to use me as your personal hot pack!” You joke.

He laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back — his eyes becoming crescent moons. You automatically smile at the sound, happy you made him laugh.

”I can carry the bag if you want,” You offer, holding your hand out.

”No need,” He chuckles, only pulling you closer into his side.

You think nothing of it until you feel his fingers creep up the inside of your jacket and under the fabric of your, or should you say, his hoodie. As he lays his hand flat against the warm skin of your lower back, you squirm and jump away from him in response.

”What’s the matter?” He says, a made-up look of innocence on his face.

You just frown at him for a moment, but with it being impossible to act annoyed at his adorable ways — you let out a laugh before proceeding to walk. ”You can’t do that.”

”Why can’t I?”

”Your hands feel like ice,” You say. ”I’m not kidding.”

”I thought you said I could use you as my personal hot pack,” He says, acting disappointed as he looks down at his feet.

You push him playfully. ”You are so annoying, Jeon Jeongguk.”

He chuckles and walks past you with his arms stretched out. ”But you love me anyway,” He sings.

But you love him anyway, of course you do.

Deciding to get revenge, you lean down to pick some snow up from the ground. You form it into a ball, then you aim and throw it at his back. He stops in his tracks, turning around with a mischievous grin on his lips.

”Oh love, I hope you realise what you’ve just started.”

It’s a stupid idea really because you know very well that he’ll win, he always does. He has this annoying tendency of being above average at anything he does, even when it’s his first time doing it. Although, being the sweet boyfriend he is — he lets you win sometimes.

Before you know it you’re both running around outside your apartment complex throwing snowballs at each other, the bag of snacks left in the snow at the side of the street. You earn a few looks from people walking past, most of them just in wonder of what’s going on. It’s probably not so often you come across to adults running around in the middle of the street having a snowball fight, let alone in the middle of the night.

While you’re leaning down to make yet another snowball, you feel Jeongguk behind you. He grabs the collar of the hoodie you’re wearing, pushing it aside and letting the snow in his hand fall down the inside of it — the cold coming in contact with your skin. You squeal and start chasing after him with snow in your hands, and a few seconds later you manage to copy his actions.

He hisses as the snow falls down inside of his shirt, capturing you in his embrace before you can run away again. ”Caught you,” He says, smiling.

The both of you are breathing heavily, your breaths visible in the cold air surrounding you. As your chest is pressed against his you feel your heartbeats becoming one. You put your arms around his neck and look up at him, his bunny smile making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

Even though you’ve been with him for what seems like forever, not really remembering what life was like without him — everything with him still feels like the first time. You still feel your heart skip a beat every time he enters the room, butterflies going crazy in your stomach at the sight of his smile and the sound of his laugh. You still get lost in the galaxies that are his eyes, and every time you look into them you swear you see stars shining in them. Like people look at stars scattered in the dark above, you look into his eyes - and that’s your way of stargazing. At every little thing you can feel yourself falling in love with him over and over, and there never seems to be an end to it.

”What’s on your mind?” He asks, noticing you’ve wandered off somewhere in your mind.

”You,” You say, looking at him with a small smile on your lips. You run your thumb along his cheekbone softy. ”Always you.”

His nose and cheeks had been painted a shade of pink because of the cold, making him look even more adorable — if even possible. You put your hands on each side of his face, cupping his cheeks before leaning up to press your lips against his. He instantly kisses you back, exhaling through his nose as if he’d been waiting for it to happen. You can’t help but smile into the kiss. Warmth spreads throughout your body, the cold air around you suddenly becoming less cold. You then pull away, having to catch your breath.

You run your fingers through his hair, your forehead pressed against his. ”We should probably get inside before we catch a cold.”

He just hums in response as he lets his eyes flutter open. He licks his lips, the taste of your raspberry lip balm still lingering on them.

After making sure to remember the bag of snacks you initially had come outside for, the two of you head inside. You shiver as the warm air inside engulfs you. You’re quick to get out of your outerwear and run into your bedroom, wanting to get rid of your hoodie — in which is now soaked at your lower back. You undress deciding to steal one of Jeongguk’s shirts. You put it on, and with the hem falling just above your knees you figure you’re in no need of pants.

As you’re about to leave you bump into Jeongguk’s bare chest, the shirt he had been wearing earlier now in his hand. He stands in front of you with exposed abs and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

Now the sight of this — you can confirm — is more mouth-watering than any snack in that bag.

You tear your gaze from his body as you hear his voice, eyes meeting his.

”Hey you, I was about to ask if you happen to know where me long sleeve is,” He says. ”But it appears someone stole it,” He nudges a finger against your side.

You grin. ”You don’t need it,” You argue as you walk past him, heading towards the sofa.

”And why’s that?”

”You look better without clothes.”

”Oh, if that’s the case you don’t need it either then,” He steps in front of you, stopping you from reaching your longed for destination.

”I can’t just walk around in my underwear,” You laugh.

”Sure you can,” He says, a smirk on his lips.

You hit his chest. ”Shut up.”

He picks you up by grabbing the back of your thighs, making you squeal and put your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the sofa and let’s you fall onto your back on top of it, then he lays down next to you.

You gasp.

Jeongguk looks at you with worry in his eyes. ”What?”

”The lights need to be turned off,” You say, gesturing to the light above you. ”Technically, you laid down last so that means you have to go turn them off.”

He groans, but gets up to turn them off nonetheless — making you smile in satisfaction. On his way back he brings the bag of snacks, placing it on the coffee table. He lays down next to you again and reaches over for the remote to press play. Shadows start dancing around the room as the K-drama starts playing. Jeongguk sighs as he cuddles into your side, laying his head on your chest and pulling the covers over the both of you.

You lay like that for a while, legs tangeled, sharing snacks and making stupid jokes about the things you see happening on the TV — laughing at stuff that wouldn’t have been funny if it weren’t for the lack of sleep. After a few episodes you can tell the late hours are getting to your boyfriend as you notice him getting quieter, his breaths slowly becoming deeper.

You too feel your eyelids getting heavier so you grab the remote to turn the TV off, then gently placing it on the coffee table. You get yourself comfortable, but you soon realise you’ve left your phone in the bedroom — making you sigh in frustration. Despite the very comfy state you’re in, you decide it’s best to go and get it in case your boss gets the idea to call you in the morning.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, carefully pushing Jeongguk so his head falls softly onto the pillow next to you before you lift his arm off of your waist. Trying your best not to stir him out of his sleep, you sit up slowly but realise you’ve failed as he groans and brings his arm around your waist — pulling you back down next to him.

”Jeongguk, I have to go get my phone,” You whisper, trying to remove his arm yet again.

”Nooo,” He whines, putting his leg over your hips under the covers.

You can’t leave, even if you try.

”I have to,” You say.

”Please don’t,” He pouts.

”I’ll be quick I promise.”

And with that he let’s you go against his will, keeping the pout on his lips. You try to keep your promise, being as quick as you can despite your eyes not really being adjusted to the darkness yet.

You luckily get to the bedroom without stumbling over something, fumbling to grab your phone that you had thrown on the bed earlier. After finally finding it under a pillow, you make your way back to the sofa.

Jeongguk immediately puts his arm around you as you lay back down next to him, laying his head on your shoulder.

”Missed you,” He says with sleep laced in his voice, making you chuckle.

”I was only gone for a few minutes, Gguk.”

Half asleep, he shifts so he’s lying on his side and pulling you against him so your chest is pressed against his. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before leaving a few light kisses just under your jaw. You put your arms around him and bring a hand up to run your fingers through his hair. Your other hand draws circles on his back, your fingertips delicately skimming over his soft skin. You feel his body relax against you, a sigh escaping past his lips — his breath hot against your skin.

You could stay like this forever, close to him like this while just enjoying the presence of each other. You kiss his shoulder before laying your head against his, feeling the melatonin take over you once again.

”I love you,” Jeongguk mumbles into your neck.

You smile. ”I love you too.”

[simplemoonk]

Guess who writes an Erwin/Reader fic? I’m dropping it in here and went to hide. 

Impact - Chapter 1 (also read on Ao3)

The velvet cushions were soft under my body as I lied down on the couch. Eyes closed and my dress hiked up to reveal a generous portion of my left leg. I could feel the guards trying their best to avoid looking at the naked flesh and failing. The room was hot and I was getting bored. Thankfully, it wasn’t long after I heard the footsteps echoing through the corridors beyond the door. The guards opened it up at the exact time he reached the threshold. 

I straightened up on the couch, flashing a mischievous smirk at him. His eyes shone the way they did when he sees me.

“My beauty,” he said as he opened both his arms upon his sides. I tried to stand up as gracefully as I could and walked over his open arms. 

“You made me wait so much,” I said, hugging him around the middle and using the tone of voice I always did when spoke to him. Girlish and sultry. He circled his right arm around my waist and used the left one to motion at his assistant. 

“I got a gift for you.” His assistant lends him an expensive-looking little box. Navy blue eyes watching my facial expressions intently as he took a step back. The box was opened to reveal a necklace with five big red rubies, and the expression on my face was genuine. Awed, baffled, and a little thrown away by how much money this man had possessed. He smiled, satisfied with whatever he saw on my face, and took the necklace to his hand. 

“You are going to escort me tonight on the warming ball. Nothing less is worthy of you.” He said as he turned me around to put the necklace on my throat. My ankle-length black dress floated around my light. Well, being the arm candy of Lord Harold V. Bolton had those sorts of advantages, I guessed. 

I turned around to look at him as he was done with the clasping of the heavy necklace, caressing one of the rubies with the tip of my finger. 

“It is so beautiful, thank you,” I said as I push a white lock of hair out of his face. He was old, yet tall and fit. He was a handsome man. 

“You are very much welcome,” he said and pecked my lips. His assistant couched a little as he was looking down, red-faced. 

“Sir, are you ready to leave?” 

“Let’s get it over with. We have still one more party the next week.” Harold secured his arm around me before pecking me on the lips one more time. 

The guards opened the giant doors as we entered the giant ballroom. It was clear that Harold didn’t avoid spending any money. The giant hall was blended with gold and cream colors, lit with hundreds of candles and torches. Alcohol was flowing like a river of water, and waiters were loaded with heavy tries filled with more food that could feed a family for a month. Especially after the fall of Wall Maria.

I smiled brightly, nails biting down my palm, and pressed my lips to Harold’s cheek as we went our separate ways. He needed to chitchat with all the important men within the hall, including the consultants of the King and military commanders, the latter of which were invited for meeting and greeting since the ball next week would pretty much be all about them. I grabbed a glass of champagne on my way, as I had to entertain the wives and partners. 

“Oh my dear,” I heard the wife of Lord Flemington, a consultant the King, coming toward me, pushing everyone that dared to get on her way with her plump body. 

“Lady Flemington!” I said cheerfully as I made a quick curtsy.   

“Ah, you look, lovely dear,” she glimpsed at my necklace quickly. Her eyes narrowed as her lips curved upwards in a cynic smirk. 

“It is your beautiful eyes that see the beauty.” 

“How are you doing my darling?” she asked with her baritone tone and continued without waiting for an answer, “Have you met my niece?” 

A young girl with caramel-colored hair took a break from glaring at my necklace and smiled beside her aunt. 

“No, I wasn’t fortunate enough,” I said and smiled at the girl. She checked me out without much effort to be subtle. A smirk, very much similar to her aunt formed on her face. 

“My name is Rose – Rose Flemington,” she said with a tone that was obviously demanding respect. 

“It was so nice to meet you, Miss Flemington,” I curtsy lightly again. 

“Likewise,” but that little smirk told me otherwise. 

“I have heard you start… staying with Lord Bolton, dear,” Mrs. Flemington asked as she started fanning herself with her infamous giant fan. 

“I’m visiting him temporarily,” 

“Are you his niece?” Rose asked, faking an interest since she knew I was not. As a response, I laughed merrily, throwing my head back. 

“I’m his friend,” the laughter was still present in my voice. She and her aunt exchanged a quick look. 

“Well, I would say a very dear friend. Is that necklace a gift from Lord Bolton?” Mrs. Flemington asked as she snapped her fan in her palm. I touched the ruby in the middle gently. 

“Ah, yes he is so very generous is not he?” 

“Yes, he is generous man,” Mrs. Flemington said and then murmured under her breath, “he used to be a dignified one as well.”

Rose was trying to hide her giggle into her palm when I first noticed the air around me changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on their ends. I knew the feeling. I was being watched. As if to glance around the hall, I turned my head to the side but whoever was watching me was already lost within the crowd. The Flemingtons left my side as they took offense to my distraction. 

I continued to wander through the hall, making small talk with noisy noblewomen, but the feeling stayed with me throughout of all. The pickling in my neck, the goosebumps on my upper arms. I also came to realize there should be more than one person watching over me. But whenever I got close to get a glimpse of them they disappeared into the shadows lurking around the corners. I watched Harold for a while. He was chatting enthusiastically, a glass of sparkly champagne in hand and a lit cigar in mouth. He caught me staring and rose his glass toward me, the movement gathering attention from the other noblemen around him as they all saluted me with their glasses as well. I smiled and walked toward him. Pretending not to notice how almost every man around him watching me approach. Something wicked shone in Harold’s eyes. I knew he liked knowing how everyone around him knew I was his. 

“I will powder my nose; I will be back in a second,” I said to him, putting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t make me wait,” he said goodheartedly. I waved him over, making my way out of the hall. Toward the doors, my eyes met with the eyes of the Commander of Military Police, Nile Dok. After looking at my face for a second he slightly bowed his head in acknowledgment. I smiled at him brightly despite the anxiety boiling in my stomach.

Immediately after I set my foot through the threshold of the ballroom, two guards started trailing after me as they always did when I change places. Nick and Kia. 

I took a deep, calming breath to slow down my hammering heart. 

My sweaty palm hovering over the slit of my dress, brushing lightly against the dagger I kept bounded around my leg. The air was tense and thick with anticipation. We were almost halfway to my bedroom. That was when I felt them move. 

Pulling the dagger out of its place in a flash, I circled back. Ready to take any blow Nick or Kia was about to deal. But to my surprise, it never came. Without any warning, more men hurled out of the dark corners, where they should have been hiding. Two of them tackled a surprised Nick and Kia to the ground with force, making their weapons fly across the hall. I stand still in shock as the men kept struggling, yelling, and trying to fight back. 

Thanks to the torchlights attached securely on the walls, a shadow was revealed onto the ground, coming behind me. I turned around in a heartbeat, the pointy side of my dagger digging slightly on the soft skin of my attacker’s throat. His arm was restraining me to dig it any deeper. His own knife was pointed to my own, but unlike me, he avoided sticking it to my throat. A tall man with perfectly combed blond hair. I could swear I have seen him before somewhere. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” my opponent spoke and despite his expressionless face, I could see his surprise by my sudden action in his eyes. 

“Says the man who had a knife against my throat,” I deadpanned. Immediately he lowered his weapon. 

“My apologies. It was for self-defense” he eyed the dagger still pointed at his throat. Suddenly I have remembered where I knew him. 

I heard the footsteps echoing through the hall at a fast pace. Turning around I saw the men Erwin Smith, the Commander of Survey Corps who happened to ‘save’ my life, brought with himself successfully pinned my struggling guards down. 

Three military police soldiers that were attending the ball came out running. They glanced at the scene with horrified faces but to their credits, they collected themselves up rather quickly. 

“Are you alright, miss?” Finn, a tall brunet from the MP, asked while eyeing the towering Commander behind me. 

“I – I’m,” the stutter on my part wasn’t an act. Other MPs knelt down beside the guards who at the end understood they weren’t get away with it and stopped their fighting. 

“Oi, you,” the raven-haired man tackled Nick down called out Finn. I recalled him as being labeled as humanity’s strongest soldier by the civilians. Great.

“Go and alert Burton. He needs to come here immediately.” 

Finn glimpsed at me briefly and turned to do exactly that when he saw I approved with a slow blink of my eyes. 

“Commander,” Gerald, another MP, gave a salute to Smith, “What exactly are you doing here?”

“One of my soldiers overhears the Miss’s guards have some ill intentions regarding her. It was very late notice, and unless we act quickly it might be too late.”

“With all due respect, you should let the Military Police know,” Gerald said through gritted teeth. 

“Were you not listening or are you just that dense? The man just said there was no time,” the short man with raven hair snapped. Gerald turned toward him with a hard look on his eyes, opening his big mouth. 

“I think I need to sit down.” I interrupted before he could say anything, wobbling on my feet. The commander’s warm hand grabbed me from my underarm and he guided me to a nearby ottoman. Soon after I was sat securely, new footsteps were echoing the halls once again. Harold came in a rush, face pale and hands shaking. 

“Connor!” he uttered my name urgently. Sitting beside me, and hugging me tightly to his side. I saw Nile came in a rush as well. He checked me out quickly, and when he made sure that I was okay, turned toward Commander Smith. 

“Just what the hell happened here?”

I listened as Erwin Smith repeated how the events unfold. How he heard about the assassination but couldn’t afford to lose any time to alert the others around. How he took his most trusted two soldiers, Mike and Levi he said, with him to investigate. Harold was drawing soothing circles around my back as Nile and other MPs listened. My attackers had already led away in handcuffs, bruised faces, and even more bruised egos. The mansion was searched but to no avail. One of the guards, who was on watch at the back door reported a black carriage waited but the moment Nick and Kai were boarded to an official MP carriage, it took off. There were no other clues. 

Nile took a few steps closer to the ottoman Harold and I were sitting. 

“Lord Burton, please allow me to leave two of my most trusted soldiers here for extra protection of the Miss. At least until we figured out who is behind this attempt.” 

“The soldiers who were too late, Commander?” Harold asked through gritted teeth. His hand stopping their motions on my back. Nile shot a side-eye look at Finn and Gerald, his unpleasantness with the situation was clear. 

“I would feel safer Harold,” I said as I clasped his hand within mine. He turned to me. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will assign my best guards to you,” 

“But – what about you?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” he said smiling and pressing his lips to the side of my head. 

“My lord, the whole house searched. It is safe.” Another guard walked toward us to inform us. 

“Thank you,” he said before helping me up. We bid our goodnights and thank yous to the soldiers present. As I passed by I looked straight in the eye of Erwin Smith, and even though it was very brief I saw how taken aback he was by the venom of my expression.  

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

A week passed by since the ‘incident’. A week that I couldn’t sleep well at night of how tense and stressed I had been during the day. A week everyone around me had blamed it on the incident how pale I looked and how little I ate. A week of tiptoeing around, listening to footsteps as I searching places that I wasn’t supposed to. A week of a total pain  my ass. 

My torture was continuing as I was walking around in the Military Fund Raiser Ball Harold was throwing. Many familiar faces were in the crowd. Some, the ones that were the most important ones, especially for the night, nodding at me subtly whenever I caught their eyes. I tried to take comfort from that. 

Everything is okay.

I kept saying that in my head, over and over. Harold was chatting with Premier Dhalis Zachary. Nile was circling the ballroom. He caught my eye for a second and tried to smile, though I could say he was just as nervous as I was. It was more crowded than the last week since Harold had maximized the security. Lady Flemington was waving me over to go near her as I saw a group of military police entered the ballroom. My breathing got heavier as they marched toward Harold Burton. Everyone’s eyes were following their every move. Premier took a few steps back. 

The soldier, Gerald, stood right in front of Harold.

“Lord Burton, you are under arrest for malversation, prostitution, and withholding civilians without their permission…” Gerald was reading Burton’s rights as something caught my eye among the crowd. Perfectly combed blond hair. Baby blue eyes that I could saw the remarkableness of them regardless of the distance between us. He was wearing a suit that was similar to the one he had worn last week. I didn’t take my eyes off of his as Burton was led away and all the remaining uniformed MPs turned toward me. I could feel everyone in the ballroom now was staring at me, shocked by the unraveling events, and continued to gawk, as they kept unraveling. Lady Flemington had a hand on her chest and a smile that she tried to contain as she deemed I must be in trouble as well. From the periphery of my eye, I saw Finn came to stand close to me. A green cloak folded neatly on his hands. 

I watched as the Commander of the Survey Corps knitted his eyebrows together. I assumed he had been known about the assassination from the beginning, probably days before the ball. He was trying to make a good impression on the Corps so that Harold would donate more than he was planning initially tonight. To the legion that harbored the soldiers who had saved his precious sweetheart. And even if I was wrong that that wouldn’t be the case, and all Erwin Smith had been trying to do was to protect me, it still didn’t make up for all the troubles he caused me last week. It was very petty but I couldn’t help the smug smirk forming on my face. I took great pleasure from his baffled expression. 

I turned toward Finn and looked him down. 

“The whole mansion was searched, captain. All belongings of Lord Burton were seized for further investigation.” 

“Thanks, Finn,” I said and took the cloak out of his hand. As I tossed the green cloak that was embroidered with the unicorn representing the military police, the uniformed MPs saluted me in perfect harmony. Eyes shone with pride. 

I gave out a long breath as the tension finally left my body.      

[alloveroliver]

Oliver Knight ⚔ Vampire!MC "Just A Quick Sip"

Sip Fics: A Dark Valentines Day Event. 

Thirst Rating: Mature, Smut?

Vampire MC AU

WC: 1800+

Ikemen Revolution Fanfic

Leaning over to his left, Oliver poured the steamy orange liquid into your teacup. He gave you a quick side-eye when you were close then looked away as he pulled back. The scent of the tea was lovely. You thought, from the smell alone, it would go well with the scones he made. 

“So, how do you find people to feed off of?” Oliver moved the teapot to his own cup in one smooth motion. 

You picked up the small cup and peered into it. “Um,” You blew on the hot tea as you muddled over your answer. “I usually just ask, typically.” 

“I see. And everyone just throws themselves at you, is that it?” He smirked at his jest. 

You took his joke as a compliment. You sat down the cup to allow it to cool, knowing it would scald you the moment it touched your lips. With miniature tongs, Oliver plopped a single cube of sugar into your cup. 

You sighed wistfully, looking out the window at the sparkling sky. The stars looked like glitter over a sheet of black paper. It was so clear and similar to the other night when you were sitting at the tavern, alone waiting for some poor soul to hit on you. Of course, most didn’t want to be fed from and even less wanted to get to know you so you could ask them again when they were comfortable. 

You wouldn’t feed on them without permission, no. You held regard for a person's choice. However, the previous nights were fruitless in the cradle. Too many people denied you your sustenance, and no willing participants existed here yet. You missed home, not only because of the familiarity or the area but from the easy pickings the London nightlife had to offer. With people as willing as them, you’d never starve in a million years.

“Actually, Not really. I’ve yet to have anyone ‘throw themselves’ at me. ” 

Oliver’s brows rose as he used a tiny spoon to stir your tea to melt the sugar. The spoon looked even goofier at night in his large hand. It was a simple spoon used for only one thing, stirring tea, yet you decided you needed one even if you didn't drink tea often. 

“Then, what do you do when that happens?” He sat the spoon down gracefully and regarded a scone. “Can regular food satisfy you just as well?”

“Nope, I just starve,” You shook your head ‘yes’ to drive home the point. “I have yet to get to the point of desecration. I am kind of scared what type of monster I’d become at that point if we're candid…”

You tried to keep the conversation casual, but you were invited here specifically to speak about your vampirism to a very curious hatter. He obviously put a lot of planning into your after-dinner tea. You looked over the plates of cakes and cookies he told you he’d made just for this occasion. 

“What does it feel like?” He took a small bite of the scone and watched you expectantly. 

“For me? Blissful.” You laughed light-heartedly.

“No, for your victim. You imbecile,” He smiled wide the longer you giggled. 

“I don’t know. I’ve only been the victim once, and I immediately passed out. I think it hurts at first?” 

Oliver took a sip of his tea and nodded. “Okay, a tinge of pain at first. That makes sense. Then why do they let you keep going?” 

Your brows rose at the realization of how astute he was. “It starts to feel good.” 

He was the first human to realize that a vampire's strength could only go so far. It was partially on the human to stay still while being fed on. If they were to thrash around, they could be mortally wounded. And humans, well, they always found a way to survive no matter the cost.

“Ah, I see. The evolution of the predator. They make it, so their victim doesn’t want to fight them off.”

“That is exactly it!” You gave him a small smile. “You get it!”

He looked proud of himself, and you wondered for a moment if, after giving him all this insider information, he would let you feed off him after all. You looked down at the table and took a quick sip of the scalding tea. You tried to push the burning feeling that manifested in the back of your throat out of your mind. It was unsuccessful but quickly replaced by the tea’s searing heat. You welcomed the small distraction. 

“Oliver,” 

“Yes? Do you want to try some of the cookies?” He babbled and didn’t look back at you as he looked over the baked goods. You wondered what kinds of questions still floated around his mind and if he was going to ask them aloud. Was he getting scared? 

“Uh, actually, I wanted to thank you for tonight.” 

“Oh! Of course. I can’t have a lady come over for tea and no snack on the table.” He laughed, and you didn’t recognize it. You weren’t used to him being so kind to you. Even in these tense moments, he tossed out a few sarcastic comments. 

The way his fingers trembled as he plucked a particularly plump cookie worried you. His nervousness began to electrify the room. It caused your heart rate to quicken just from the proximity to him alone. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked while looking up into his smoky eyes. 

“Of… of course, I don’t.” He dropped the cookie onto his plate and took a deep breath. “Don’t be daft.” He gazed back down at you as if to rival your own stare. 

His jab made you relax a bit. Maybe you could tease him a little bit to see where he stood. You felt that breaking the ice might help ease the tension.

“I do appreciate the snacks, but If I may.” You tapped your lips with your finger thoughtfully. “May I have a small sip of you?” You smiled wide, cocking one brow, allowing there to be no tension in the air no matter his answer. 

He blinked quickly and slowly took off his hat. He placed the lid on the table out of the way and turned to face you. The way his shoulders squared made you feel a hint of intimidation. 

“If I say yes, do you promise to make it a very small sip?” His pupils dilated, and you didn’t have to move any closer to hear his heart began to race away in his chest. Hell, his cheeks turning pink was enough to make you want to scream out your answer. 

“I promise.” You sat still, unsure if this was really happening right now. 

Oliver’s shoulders relaxed at your words. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and began to lean over to you.

The searing heat in the back of your throat only grew at the gesture. His visible veins called to you like ice cream did on a scorching hot day. Not only was his cologne strong, but the scent of his blood racing away in his veins was even more intoxicating. 

“You said it starts to feel good. How good are we talking?” He cracked a smile, seemingly trying to keep things sane between the two of you. 

You smirked and leaned into him. Your nose ran along his jawline, and you both sighed. You had waited too long for this. Your inner consciousness screamed at you to attack now. But your humanity urged you to take it slow. You knew Oliver. You were friends with Oliver. You didn't want to spook him or watch him run away like your nightmares pictured him doing. 

On the other hand, you wanted to tease him, to make him beg you to bite him. Something inside you needed to hear his voice crack as he pleaded. However, this was a one-time treat, you were sure. There was no time to play with your food. 

“So good,” You paused and latched your lips on the soft skin under his ear. “You’re going to cum.” 

“Wait, what!?-Ah!” His voice trailed off as your fangs pierced his main artery. 

The gush of honeyed blood rushed over your parched tongue and soothed the ache. Like water rushing over molten lava, you felt your throat cool. 

“Fuck…” You groaned against his skin, sucking harder on the puncture wound.

Oliver’s arms wrapped around your back, and he held you in a tight embrace. You could tell he was holding his breath, but you knew he couldn’t hold it for much longer. 

He kept you close, allowing you to continue drinking for as long as you could. Through gritted teeth, Oliver groaned quietly. His face slowly moved to rest on your shoulder while you took deep draws from his veins. Oliver nuzzled the side of your hair as if he were hiding from the world. 

It was far more than just a sip, but you felt yourself regain control. 

“May I have more?” You asked, licking the trails of blood that hurried to escape you.

“Sk… Yes.” He struggled to speak. His lungs must have been burning at this point from holding in his breath. It didn't matter, as long as his blood rushed freely for you to partake in. 

Oliver bit his bottom lip, keeping his sounds to himself. He tugged you harder until you were out of your seat and practically in his lap. You could feel his body start to quiver from lack of oxygen. He needed to breathe before he passed out; he needed to let go. 

“Relax,” You cooed, finding yet a third spot to take a bite of. 

Just then, Oliver’s shoulders slumped. His fingers dug into your back while a sensual groan left his lips. He rolled his hips into your leg as another moan eluded him. 

“Am I… Interrupting?” Blanc chuckled from the dining room entrance. 

“NO!” Oliver yelled, gripping your arms tightly. “Yes.” You turned your eyes to Blanc while keeping your lips on Oliver’s neck. 

“I see.” Blanc chuckled. “I will come back later, then.” 

“Get back here!” Oliver began as Blanc turned on his heel.  “See ya,” You waved with one hand while using the other to wipe the red stains from your lips.

Oliver’s cheeks were as red as yours felt. With the fresh feeding, it was as if you could do anything. Nothing at all could bother you. You were in a daze and realized this when you felt Oliver situate you back into the chair. 

“That was…” He breathed, sitting back into his dining room chair. He raked his hand through his hair and took several deep breaths.

“Incredible.” You sighed “Amazing…” Oliver whispered. He looked off into the distance and absently touched the small wound with his hand. 

“Oh, It’ll heal in just a few seconds. Don’t worry.” You assured him, closing your eyes as you relax your head against the backrest. 

“I... I’ll be right back.” He stood on jellied legs and the room quickly.

“Told ya, happens every time.” Your arms went up behind your head, and you rested on your hands as you stared at the ceiling. Yep, nothing could bring you down now. Not a damn thing. 

.

.

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Thank you, Anonymous, for sending in an OLIVER ask! I LOVE ME SOME OLIVER!!! Anyway, let's embarrass the poor guy XD

The event status is at the top of my blog, along with the initial post!

[sad-af1121]

Its You: Part 3

Summary: In which your date doesn’t go well and you meet a stranger who makes you forget all about it with his witty charm. But no numbers or names are exchanged between you two, leaving you both hopeless yet love crazed, never to find one another. Or so you think.  Modern AU | Requested by Anon | Pairings: Bucky Barnes x CurlyHaired! Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: language, full-on fluff and comedyyyy

A/N: It's good to be back! Disclaimer: I would have made this part longer but it would be too much imo. ALSO I’ll be graduating soon and that means more time for writing! Can’t wait to share what I’ve been planning. As always enjoy AND Feedback is welcomed 💜

PART 2

Seated perfectly at the table, the host distributed the menus before leaving you to to your night. The atmosphere couldn’t get any more awkward than it was, and it tensed your muscles incredibly. But why were you complaining? You were on a date with the guy you’ve been drooling after for the past 24 hours! 

And Bucky? He was over the moon and very thankful that the universe blessed him with a chance to not only see you again but have dinner with you. The moping and dreading Bucky from earlier was nowhere to be seen and he was so drenched in bliss. 

His cheeks dusted with pink, Bucky swallowed the lump of embarrassment that sat annoyingly in his throat, not knowing where to keep his eyes on since looking into yours just made his heart skip a beat. What he didn’t know was that you were experiencing the same thing, looking anywhere but each other. Some people would say it was odd seeing a couple having dinner who wouldn’t even give the knowledge of them being there, but they didn’t know your story. And how you were falling in love every second being in Bucky’s presence. 

“So,” Bucky trailed off, slicing away the silence like a knife to butter. “I’m assuming you know Clint then?” 

His chuckle made your body ache, your heart melting to the deep sound of his rumbles echoing in his chest. Gritting your teeth from smiling too hard, you nod but a squeaky laugh escaped, “Oh my god,” you panicked, knowing damn well he heard it. He probably thinks your half pig now.

Great.

You saw how his eyes went slightly wide but he kept his smile and waved it off. This. This reassurance smoothed away your anxiety, and you just kept your eyes steady on his. “Yeah! He’s my roomie, and like a brother to me. I hope he doesn’t give you a hard time at work… knowing how strong and intimidating his personality can be.”

Bucky smirked, “Oh trust me,” he licked his lips and ducked his head, whispering. “I like the guy, I really do. But he scares the living crap out of me.”

Throwing your head back, you laugh at his confession, covering your mouth from exposing too much. You could tell he was joking but another part was telling you he sort of wasn’t. “Yep, that’s Clint for you.” 

“And I’m guessing Steve is your friend?” You asked with a hint of uncertainty. Bucky smiled at your question, taking a swig of his water. 

“My best friend since we were little. Our mothers were best friends and then we turned out to be best friends. It’s kind of weird, but he’s like a brother to me too.” 

The corners of your lips curved into a sweet smile, your eyes becoming soft as you released a dreamy sigh. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by Bucky and he began to blush again. And this time, you saw what you were doing to him and you actually liked it. It was a taste of his own medicine, trapped in a bubble of affection. 

“Remind me to thank Steve,” you whispered softly, bashfully ducking your head and gnawing on your lip. This brought a shiver down Bucky’s spine, his pupils dilating into a dark sea of passion.

Moments later, the waiter arrives with a glass jug of ice-cold water and a towel draped over his arm. 

“Hello! My name is Scott, like the paper towel brand and I’ll be your waiter for tonight! Make sure you tip me well or I’ll embarrass you in front of all these fine people.” He flashed a smile between you and Bucky, earning horrified and confused expressions from you two. 

“Ah well,” you swallowed thickly, wrapping your head around the waiters' words but before you could utter a word, he cuts you off.

“Ha! I was only kidding, oh my god. You should’ve seen your face, priceless!” Scott barked out a laugh, dismissing the fact that you and Bucky were just so misplaced. However, you found this man insanely amusing, exchanging a funny look with Bucky; he understood your motif and chuckled underneath his breath, trying really hard to stiffen his laughter. 

Refilling your glasses of water, Scott stepped back and sighed - that goofy smirk still plastered on his face. “What drinks can I start you off with?” 

“What drinks do you have?” You smiled. 

Scott smiled back but then it disappeared. He swiftly moved his body, as if he was trying to find something. To his misfortune, he didn’t, bringing him to groan through a tight smile. “It looks like I’ve forgotten the menu. But worry not, I think I’ve memorized it.” 

Bucky couldn’t hold back his cheeky smile, running a hand down his face. He couldn’t wait and see what Scott would bring to the table. Scott went on describing the basic drinks that most bars have but when Bucky asked for a specialty of the restaurant, that was where things went poorly.

The names of the drinks were at least better than the description Scott gave and you had your face buried in your hands the entire time. By the sounds of it, however, you caught on that Bucky knew more about drinks since he was aiding Scott in what alcohol goes in what and how they’re made. Maybe he was apart of some alcoholic beverage making club since he was fascinated with it. 

No, that couldn’t be it. 

Messing around with Scott became second nature to Bucky and you were so lost in drowning yourself in his voice that you hadn’t noticed him calling your name. 

“Y/N?” 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out a chuckle; sighing dreamingly to the tone of his voice. It was like sweet honey at the tip of his tongue, rolling gracefully and plunging at your gut. 

“Where do you go when you’re in that state?” Bucky pondered, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“A place where you won't quite understand,” you teased, gnawing on your lip. Gazing into each other's eyes made your chest fall with ease as Bucky’s lips formed a smile of its own. 

“We’ll have the Cabernet Sauvignon, please,” Bucky informed the waiter without tearing his eyes away and you giggled to how charming he was towards you. 

Expecting the waiter to be gone by the time you looked away from Bucky, you were taken aback when Scott was still standing there, smirking as if he knew something you and Bucky didn’t. Clearing your throat, you shifted in your seat. “Is there something else…” 

“Oh no! I’ll just be going now,” Scott chuckled as he backed away but bumped into a table, almost falling backward over a woman in her seat. Luckily he caught himself in time, before rushing out of the room. 

Neither you and Bucky could hold back your laughter, embarrassed for the man. “He’s got a character that one.” Bucky managed to speak through his laugh as he ran a hand over his head.

“Ya think?” you mocked with aching cheeks. 

Once your drinks had arrived, you two ordered dinner and continued to talk. You found out how he got into engineering and what his actual passions are for the future. Advanced technology in prosthetic limbs was his main goal. He wanted to help those who felt like their lives wouldn’t be the same after losing a part of themselves and giving chances to those who were born without them. You were infatuated by his ideals and knowledge. His wholesome personality was another element that grew your heart to thrice its size. Bucky gave you hope for the future and how humanity can still heal each other even when we can easily harm too. 

Bucky couldn’t get over the fact how perfect you were. In his eyes, he couldn't see one flaw that raised alarms. You also had a passion to just live the world day by day, believing in small goals rather than bigger ones. You explained how the smaller ones were easy to accomplish while the big ones were a desire of “what if”. It was the flame that kept you going and you just illuminated a beautiful radiance of positivity that it was rare to even exist. Working as a research assistant for a curator wasn’t as glamorous as you had thought when applying for the job, but it kept you interested in what was happening in today's art. 

After some time, dinner had finally arrived at your table and it was as divine and as tasteful as it looked. Enjoying your meal, you hadn’t noticed that you had forgotten to take your phone out of your back pocket. The pressure from your rear added pressure to the call button and miraculously, you speed-dialed Natasha. 

***

“Where did you put my sparkling water, Wanda?” Natasha inspected the refrigerator while she tapped her finger against the door. 

Turning away from the TV, Wanda replied, “Oh, I put it in the pantry… didn’t know if you liked it cold or not,” she nervously chuckled, shoveling her mouth with the soup she made for dinner. 

Groaning at her own mistake, Natasha closed the refrigerator door and sluggishly walked to the pantry where her drink sat nicely on the shelf. “I hate when they’re room temperature. I shoulda put them in when I bought them.” 

Wanda shrugged in response and continued eating her dinner. Sighing, Natasha took out the bottle and rest it on the kitchen island before twisting open the cap and pouring herself a glass. As she went to add ice cubes to her drink, her phone began to ring, the classic Michael Myers ring-tone filling the air. Carefully, she placed her drink down and scurried after her phone. Since Wanda was closer, she grabbed the device off the coffee table and chucked it at Natasha who skillfully caught it. 

Glancing at the lit device, Natasha’s eyes shot wide open as your name appeared across the screen. 

“It’s Y/N! It’s Y/N!” 

Wanda quickly set her bowl on the table and paused the TV, jumping out of her seat. “Answer it!” 

“Okay okay,” Natasha pressed the accept button to answer but it closed before she could say anything. Her brows furrowed at the sudden silence. “What the,” she swallowed thickly, the nerves in her body tingling with a pinch of worry. So she decided to call back, and wait till you answered the call. 

Yet to Natasha’s misfortune, you didn’t, prompting her to try again.

And again.  

With her stomach feeling uneasy, Wanda stood near Natasha, nibbling on her bottom lip. Earlier that night, she was informed of the escape plan between you and Natasha. It wouldn’t make sense as to why you were calling other than that reason. The anticipation was making her nauseous. 

“Fuck this. We’re going down there.” Natasha gave up after the fourth attempt. She fetched her keys and bag from her room before darting out toward the front door. Wanda followed behind, slipping on her shoes. 

“I don’t like this, Nat.”

“Let’s hope I don’t murder anyone tonight.” 

_____________

Permanent/Fic tags will be added to reblogs. If you’d like to be added, pls send an ask.

[sabraeal]

The Great Chain, Chapter 5

The Hierarchy of Beings | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Written for @nebluus​ for her birthday! It was a MUCH WELCOME break to have something non-obiyuki to work on during bingo, especially to play with HMH, even if this did turn mostly into two OCs having a nice chat with one another XD

Ambassador Prak is punctual, as would be expected from a man raised to the grace of Chanvaty’s gaze, sharply dressed and not a hair out of place. He favors the style of these heathen lands, mirror-shined boots and indecently tight pants, as well as the ridiculous high-collared coats that they wear. She peers at him through a haze of gold, and with the same swiftness as the God’s breath, decides that the costume is not entirely unbecoming. After all, he is here to live among the heathens, to learn their ways so that he may better come to understand what value they can be to Wati. Imitation is but one tool through which trust may be forged.

“I must admit, Most High,” he says, bowing at the waist as these heathens do, “I did not expect your summons. Nor your...request.”

She nods, and ah, it is strange to talk to a man with no screen between them, nor a woman of proper birth to serve as their go between. It is only she and him and the God’s breath around them.

“Nor should you,” she agrees gracefully. “It is not a whim I am accustomed to having. However--” he lips curl behind her veil slyly-- “I have been told that it would be beneficial for the vessel which houses what is most womanly and sacred if I were to...take in the gardens.”

His neck cranes up, brows raised nearly to his hairline. She grits her teeth. In her brother’s court, a man would lose his head for such blasphemy.

Here, she can expect no such justice.

“Is that so?” His voice is strained from the angle.

“It is.” She draws herself straight on her seat, shoulder rolled proudly back. “Do you find that strange, Ambassador?”

“No, no, not at all,” he assures her. “It is common for the ladies of the court to take a daily turn about its pathways.”

"Am I not a member of the same court?” If she were her brother, she would raise that single, dangerous brow, but she settles for tapping a displeased finger. “Should I not partake in their preferred pastimes?”

“I...” His jaw shuts with a quiet snick. “Of course, Most High.”

“Then come.”

She stands, though not without difficulty. Her brother always had a strong presence, moving with the grace of a warrior and the gravitas of a god. She is neither, levering herself to her feet only by virtue of the rests on either side of her arms. Still, her ambassador is awed when she holds out a hand. “It is time that I walk on my own two feet.”

The pace the ambassador sets is slow; so slow she assumes he mocks her until she sees the other pairs that promenade down the garden paths. It makes some sense, in a way-- this is, after all, an activity of leisure, not exercise. Though even with the veritable crawl he sets, her feet ache mere minutes after their start. By the time he suggests a rest to smell the roses, it has spread all the way up her legs, even into her hips.

“Thank you,” she pants, bending over a large, ruffled bloom. Through the veil she can hardly smell it, but she’s glad for the excuse to linger, to let the burning in her legs subside. After all, she has not yet even begun to complete the business she set out to do on this walk.

“My pleasure,” the Ambassador assures her. “It is my great honor that you have brought me along as your particular companion.”

She straightens, examining another flower on a higher branch. “Is that not how it is done here? We have passed many pairs.”

“Yes, Most High. The paths are narrow, and the ladies prefer to keep their parties small, or plan to be paired.” Prak nods, leading her to another bush, one with a flower nothing like the last, but still labeled a rose. “Most choose to come with their closest female companions. However...”

She turns to him. “However...?”

“Ah, well...” He smiles, sly. “Some choose to take advantage of the garden’s more secluded nature and take a turn or two with their, ah, intended. Or perhaps, more accurately, their...intended intended.”

She stares for a long moment. “You mean assignations?”

His mouth twitches. “The court is quite young, Most High. They have a tendency to get into...shall we say...spirited follies.” He slants her a look from the corner of his eyes. “Perhaps you might invite Prince Zen on your next walk, should you enjoy this one.”

She is glad for the veil, for then no one can see how her jaw drops, how her face heats. To think that she-- that he--!

“I do not think that would be prudent.” Or enjoyable, she does not add. “And the prince must have other duties that need his attention.”

Prak barks out a laugh, muzzling it when she stares. “I think,” he says, careful, “that his most pressing duty is your attention, Most High.”

Her fingers hesitate on the bloom she holds, its silky petals slipping against her skin. “What do you mean?”

She is not used to being stared at in such a way, let alone by a man of the God, but the ambassador does, both brows raised. “Surely you have not forgotten, Most High, that the contract between our countries relies on whether you accept his suit.”

She had, entirely. After all, it was not as if her brother would welcome her home with open arms if she refused. He had made that clear enough before she left.

To return would disappoint the God. His face is as smooth and forbidding as any statue of the God, with the same chill as stone. You will stand in his shadow should you return to feel his light.

Her hand clenches in her sleeve. “Of course.”

Prak holds out his arm. They have apparently lingered enough. “It would not surprise me if the king had informed his brother that wooing you was his highest priority.”

She hesitates, her hand hovering in the air between them. This is how the others have walked, ladies arm-in-arm and gentlemen with hand either placed on top of or tucked into their elbow. This is what is polite here, what is expected.

But still, still. She is the sacred feminine, a child of the God himself. To touch another is to profane herself. To touch another is to spell their death.

Or that was what she had been told. But when she had laid a hand upon the prince he hand not burned, and when the concubine had looked upon her bare form--

Nothing. Perhaps this country is a sight too far for even Atar Wat’s gaze.

She lays down her hand, his coat rough beneath the sensitive pads of her fingers. “He has a strange way of showing it.”

“Has he not come to see you?”

“No.” It has been a relief; she had thought a man who loved his own voice so would importune her with it more often. “We spoke only the once. The first day.”

Were he not a man of dignity and gravitas proper to his station, she might say that Ambassador Prak was agog. “That was nearly a week ago.”

She shrugs a hand. “So you say.”

“Hah.” Prak hums, thoughtful. “Did you say anything to make him think you would not want his company?”

Until we are married, she had said, so sure, so proud, I will remain untouched by your eyes.

“Ah, there.” She points around a bend in the path. “Come, tell me the name of this flower.”

She might not be much of a hunter, but by the God’s grace, she still finds her quarry.

Mistress Shirayuki. Prak good humor is unfeigned when the woman startles, red tail whipping over her shoulder. I suppose it should be no surprise to find you here.

Ambassador Prak. The concubine stands, her smile more strained than his. Munkhtsesteg. Prak’s brow twitches at the name. I didn’t expect to have visitors.

We were only passing through, he assures her, slanting her a questioning glance as her hand tightens on his sleeve. Her Most High wished to see the gardens.

They are lovely this time of year. Or any time of year, really! The girl’s smile puts the sun to shame. She might be the god’s vessel, but it is she who is blinded when Shirayuki looks at her. I’m happy to see you’re taking my advice.

The ambassador’s brow twitches again, and she resists the urge to hunch in on herself, to become smaller as the lesser folk do in the presence of their betters. But there is no man or woman who can claim themself her better, save for her brother and the God, so she stands tall. Who is this man, born under the gaze of Rith, to question her?

I had thought it might be prudent to see these much vaunted gardens, she allows graciously. Since it seems this...promenading is the activity favored by the young ladies of this court.

The concubine nods, pulling at the thick gloves covering her hands. And what do you think?

“It’s vulgar,” she says, the disgust on her face masked by the weave of her veil. The concubine’s smile does not fade, but she glances up at Prak, brows raised in question.

Her Most High means that it is quite different from her brother’s court. Her glances down at her, mouth pinched. The transition between them if quite...difficult.

A politique answer from a politique man. She would have expected no less from their finest diplomat.

Oh? Shirayuki’s face is alight with interest. Are the gardens very different there? Do you have colder place to grow plant from other countries, or--?

Ah. Prak smiles, chagrined. I do believe Her Most High meant that the...activities are different, not so much the gardens.

But they are, she supplies, too eager. Come, you shall walk with us, and I will tell you of them.

The concubine stiffens, every inch of her pale skin blooming with crimson. She worries-- surely the girl would not be so gauche as to suffer apoplexy here, now, in the garden of her king.

Most High, the ambassador says, as harsh as a whip’s crack. Surely Mistress Shirayuki has duties to attend to.

Oh, no! When she looks again, the girl is smiling, wide and bright. I would be happy to come. I just need to finish a few things here first. Do you mind waiting?

Of course not. Her lips curve wickedly beneath her veil. There are times where even the God must hold his breath.

The girl’s gaze skitters to the ambassador before meeting hers again. Then I’ll be just a moment.

[foxy-exy]

Fuzzy Orange and White Plaid

For @keys-crows-dreamers-scones!! hap birth love u bby here’s ur Kevaaron date!!

TW: mildest of the mild homophobia like she’s there, she glares, she’s gone

Kevin can’t drag his eyes from Aaron’s nose and the tips of his ears poking out of the giant scarf that dwarfs him. They’re bright pink from the cold, and as Kevin watches, Aaron tugs the fuzzy orange and white plaid down from his mouth to blow on his thin-gloved fingers, balled together for warmth. It’s freezing here, waiting in the cool evening air in this never ending line for the ice skating rink.

Aaron looks very grumpy when a couple snowflakes drift down to land on his gloves and nose, and more so when one catches in his eyelashes and he has to blink furiously.

“Aaron,” Kevin says, to catch his attention, and Aaron turns, brows furrowed, as Kevin swipes away the snow with his thumb.

Aaron sputters and turns redder, and ducks his head when Kevin lets his hand wander to land in Aaron’s hair, carding through blond locks he wishes he could feel through his own glove.

“There are people,” Aaron mutters, and Kevin eyes the thin line stretching in front, a trickle of people tapering off behind them as the sky darkens. Kevin doesn’t understand why — the soft gold of too-early Christmas lights strung up between the trees that surround the outdoor rink illuminates the ice in a warm glow, and the distinct lack of children zooming and falling around the ice is good by him.

“Not that many people,” Kevin says, but pulls away, because there is a middle aged woman glaring suspiciously over Aaron’s shoulder at them both. Kevin glowers back, and Aaron follows his gaze to unashamedly flip her off. He turns back with a smirk to himself at her scandalized expression, to once more breathe onto his fingers and hop in place, shivering.

Kevin wraps his own hands around Aaron’s and pulls them closer to add his own warm breath to the effort. “Fuck her,” he says as reasoning, when he meets Aaron’s wide eyes, and Aaron chews at his lip and nods and studies the ground as Kevin presses his fingers to his mouth.

Finally, Aaron says, “share my scarf,” but it’s more of a squeak as he pulls away a hand to abruptly wind the fabric around them both, tugging them closer together.

“Excuse me, sir…s. I can help you up here?”

Kevin starts at the attendant behind the counter calling them — the line in front has finally dwindled, and he tugs a still-bundled-close Aaron along as they step up to the cash register.

“Two pairs? What size?”

“Kids’ sizes for him,” Kevin smirks, and Aaron yanks at the end of the scarf wrapped around Kevin’s neck in retaliation, choking him.

“Well, he’s a fucking giant,” Aaron says, and goes to pat for his wallet in his back pocket, but Kevin won’t have that. He’s tugged the scarf away from his throat and has his credit card in the woman’s hand, rattling off their shoe sizes and to put both on his card before Aaron can blink. But blink he does, and narrow his eyes up at Kevin as the attendant goes in search of their ice skates. “I can pay.”

“Good for you. I paid for you.”

Aaron folds his arms. “Can you even skate, Day?”

“It can’t be that hard.” Kevin accepts his card and his skates, breaking from Aaron’s side to seat himself on one of the benches lining the rink to tug them on. Aaron trails behind, the beginning of a suspiciously devious smile curling his lips.

“Oh? Never have before, huh?”

“What, you’re so good at it?” Kevin begins hobbling towards the entrance to the rink, throwing a doubtful look over his shoulder.

“Yeah. And I’ll kick your ass.” And Aaron Minyard zooms past him as if he isn’t all of an entire foot shorter than Kevin, and launches himself out onto the ice.

Kevin can’t help but pause and watch in slight breathlessness as his boyfriend glides gracefully across the rink, his path twisting and curving around slower moving skaters at a ridiculous clip. He whirls to skate effortlessly backwards and meet Kevin’s eyes with a challenging grin, and Kevin can’t just let that slide. He’s Kevin fucking Day, and he’s a good goddamn athlete. Like he said, it can’t be that hard.

He growls, half frustration, half determination, and clomps the rest of the way to the opening in the wall, bracing himself and setting one of the blades on his feet onto the ice, then the other.

Pushing off from the wall is weightlessness for a moment, and complete and utter helpless imbalance the next. Kevin goes windmilling for the next nearest wall, swearing loudly, and crashes into the thing to clutch at it — a lifeline in dangerous waters.

Aaron crashes into him next, except on purpose, grabbing at his coat to laugh into his ear, to shove off and skate show-off spinning circles around him.

“Fuck you,” Kevin grits through his teeth. “You actually know how to do it.”

“I just can’t believe I’m so much better at it than you,” Aaron snickers, halting in front of him, finally, to lay a not-as-necessary hand on the wall. “Lessons paid off.”

“Teach me,” Kevin says, sullenly, because he likes to know things like this, improve himself, by himself, and not have to be taught, particularly surrounded by strangers. But clearly Aaron can enhance his performance a great deal when Kevin can’t even skate a few steps by himself right now.

“Come here.” Aaron pushes backwards and beckons and Kevin glares but slowly, carefully, nervously shoves off the wall and stumbles for him.

“Bend your knees, keep your stance wide — ah, Kevin!” Aaron groans as Kevin bowls into him and catches Kevin around the waist, steadying them both with some difficulty.

“Your fault,” Kevin mumbles as Aaron pulls away and rolls his eyes, but allows Kevin to maintain a death grip on his hands.

“One foot at a time, c’mon.” Aaron guides Kevin forward, letting him get used to the glide. “See, you can do it.”

“Don’t let go!”

“I won’t,” Aaron says, gently, and Kevin’s mouth is dry as he starts to move of his own volition, still lightly guided by Aaron’s hands.

It’s fully dark now, the rink only peppered with a few skaters, and the Christmas lights set Aaron’s hair aglow, his brown eyes golden when they flick up to meet Kevin’s.

There aren’t that many people. It’s dark. No one’s looking at them this time.

“Let go,” Kevin says, and Aaron’s eyebrows jump, but he does.

Kevin cautiously leans forward to ghost a kiss across Aaron’s lips — but a moment later, overbalances, tips, and has to dig his fingers into Aaron’s scarf.

Aaron huffs a laugh into Kevin’s mouth and grabs his own handfuls of Kevin’s jacket, eyes alive a breath away as he continues to keep them slowly gliding across the ice.

[loki-godofmischief-myking]

Love Is For The Foolish (7)

Loki x Asgardian!Reader

Warning: This part sort of relies on you having seen Thor (2011) to know what is happening between/during the events I have written out. Also it does change some stuff around because I am basically writing you into the movie so to say.

<== Previous | Next ==>

Chapter 7: Frostbite

The day of Thor’s coronation had come. While everyone was rejoicing you were trying your best not to allow your true emotions to surface. It was difficult when the source of all your emotional turmoil was standing right beside you.

“What have you done this time?” Lady Sif asked as she watched you quickly let go of Loki’s arm as soon as you stood in your rightful place.

Loki gave her a pointed look but did not dignify her with an answer.

Queen Frigga closed her eyes and inwardly sighed at the sight of your distant look. You were far from the loving couple you once were. As of late, you two seemed to fight more often than not and it worried her. Whatever transgressions kept you from even glancing at her son she knew it had to be of his own fault.

Your eyes shifted over to Odin who surprisingly gave you a nod. This was about the best interaction you could ever get out of him so you returned the gesture and went back to fixating on a distant wall until Thor entered.

Thor’s entrance had heads turning, cheering for their soon to be King.

His blue eyes landed on yours momentarily. Their brightness coaxed a slight smile from you that did not go unnoticed by Loki.

“If you are trying to anger me-”

“Do not flatter yourself. My life does not revolve around you Loki.” You maintained a smile to hide your argument from wandering eyes.

Ever since he took your necklace you had reverted back to your old ways of opposing and refusing the dark prince. Only now he was your husband, making it much more difficult.

The room fell silent as Odin began to make his proclamation. 

“On this day I Odin, Allfather, proclaim you...”

Thor’s smile fell as Odin stopped, sensing an interruption.

Forgetting your own woes you turned to Loki with worry. He did not seem at all changed until you held onto him when Odin slammed Gungnir down. 

Loki put his hand atop yours assuring you everything was alright before going off to the vault with Thor and his father. 

Now that you were alone Frigga came to you. “Come, my dear, we shall keep the peace here.”

\\\

When Loki told you of what happened you were shocked. The very mention of Jotun’s made your skin crawl. They had been responsible for your father’s death. Had he made it back from the war in Jotunheim perhaps you would have had a chance at a much more normal upbringing. At least one with a lot less resentment.

“What is going to happen?”

“Nothing,” Loki sighed. “Unless my brother has his way.”

“Why?” you asked increasingly worried.

“He wants to teach them a lesson for having broken the truce.”

“Loki you can not go to Jotunheim.” You held onto him refusing to let go. If you could prevent him from going you would. There was no way you would lose someone else to the realm.

Loki was pleased with the way the event had absolved your anger towards him. Now you were clinging to him, begging him not to go. He “Do not worry,” he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “I will come back as soon as I can convince my brother that he is making a mistake. But perhaps you should warn my father.”

You looked up at him full of worry. “Please don’t...” the word would not leave your lips for fear it might become reality.

He held your face in his hands taking in the beauty of all your features. “I would never leave you.” His lips met yours in a chaste kiss before leaving to find his brother.

Like he asked, you went to Odin when he did not return swiftly. Figuring he had been unsuccessful in keeping Thor from endangering their lives you went to Odin.

You swore you never saw more emotion on his face than now. He was furious and concerned for his children. “Why did you not stop them!”

“I-”

Queen Frigga stepped in to protect you from Odin’s wrath. She reminded him you had done no wrong. “She has come to you, as far as I am concerned Y/N has done the right thing.”

Odin did not apologize but acted on your word and went to the Bifrost.

“I know this is not easy for you,” Frigga placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Loki will not suffer your father’s fate.”

You nodded, “I want to believe that as well but I can not help being uneasy. Something fills me with guilt and regret.”

“Guilt?”

You nodded, “May I enter the vault?”

With Frigga’s approval, you went down to the dark abyss of the vault. It was quite dark and vast, your every footstep echoed off the walls. Your eyes did not deviate from the casket’s blue glow. Then they went to the ground where you could see the remains of a Jotun hand reaching out of the now frozen waters.

There was no way to describe the urge you had to touch the limb. But, you were a knowledgable person, you had read about these frost giants. Had you laid a finger on it you would succumb your own appendage to frostbite. That did not stop you from touching the icy waters.

A familiar feeling overcame you, it literally pulled you into the icy dark waters.

The loud splash caught the guard’s attention as you plunged less than gracefully. They quickly came to your aide, a couple jumping in to pull you out as more waited to receive you.

“Your Highness are you alright?” Alert was high as they feared another Jotun attack.

You were left shaking by the icy dip. “I-am f-fi-” you settled for a nod when your teeth shattering barely allowed a coherent word. 

Everyone fussed over you as you made way to your room. Maids ambushed you with warm linens while others ran ahead to get a bath started for you. They urged you out of the soaking gown to keep you from falling ill.

“Shall I bring a healer, your Highness?”

"Truly, I am fine. Just a bit lightheaded if I’m being honest but nothing a healer is needed for.”

The maid nodded in understanding before letting herself out.

Once you were truly alone your mind began to replay what you had felt, what you had seen in the depths of the water. That was not your first time there. It seemed you could sense a part of you in the distance.

You unconsciously began to toy with the chain of your crystal when you realized you had felt that particular sensation before- around your neck. It was the suffocating feeling of your own seidr in all its raw emotion. You felt it when you had felt its wrath, the guilt of having killed as a newborn, and now as you felt somehow you had been responsible for the Jotuns coming in.

“Loki...” you muttered before seizing all movement. Even your breathing had stopped at the possibility.

\\\

As Odin was carried away by the guards a single one stayed behind with Loki informing him of another person they had carried out earlier. “Your Highness, the princess was down here earlier. She fell into the waters-”

“What!” Loki pushed his own emotional turmoil aside at the mention of his wife. The guard assured him you had been escorted to your room with no visible injuries but Loki had to see for himself. He was cautious of what you might have been doing down there but his worry was greater.

He rushed into the bedroom in search of you only to be ambushed himself. 

Your arms immediately wrapped around Loki thankful that he had come back unharmed. The crippling fear of losing him to Jotunheim outweighing the conclusion you had yet to confirm. “Thank Odin, you have returned.”

Loki tensed at your remark. Silently, he began stroking your freshly washed hair in a soothing manner catching the fragrant scent of the lavender oil you frequented. Now he understood the allure of it as it became synonymous with you. He was much calmer now that he was in your presence.

“Are you well?” You worried as he felt much cooler to the touch than usual. A warm bath had helped you recover from the icy dip you imagined it would do him some good too. You thought of suggesting it but he would not seize his hold on you. 

It was all too offputting.

“Loki-”

“I’ve been lied to all my life,” he interjected. “I am no son of Odin or prince of Asgard.”

“What?”

Loki finally let go of you to put some distance between you two so he may show you what he really was. “I now understand why Odin favored Thor so much, why he insisted on making him King when he was not fit. I never had a chance.” Loki’s skin turned blue, his eyes red, and markings littered his face. “I am Loki Laufeyson, prince of Jotunheim.”

Your hands covered your mouth in shock by what you were witnessing. A part of you felt it was one of Loki’s tricks again but the sadness in his eyes was genuine. “Loki-” you tried getting close but stopped remembering you could not touch a Jotun. Then your mind began racing with the fact that you had touched him many times before and he, you. Was he truly a frost giant?

“I am of the same lineage as the monsters who killed your father.”

Your heart sank hearing him refer to himself as a monster. “Loki you are not one of them.”

“But I am!” He walked closer making you retreat until your back was to the bedroom door. “I have been lied to all my life. This is my true form. Had I known- you would never, could never love me this way.” 

The look of resent and defeat hardened your resolve. You closed your eyes as your hand made contact with his cheek immediately burning you. “Ah! You are not,” you forced the words through gritted teeth.

Loki immediately let his alabaster skin return. “Fool,” he reprimanded as he held your hand in his examining the extent of your injury. 

“You are the fool!” You pulled your hand away from him refusing his help to cure it despite the gut-wrenching pain you felt. The entirety of your arm was going numb as your nerves burned. You were beginning to perspire from the pain as your own healing kicked in. You wanted to yell at him for being a hypocrite but you could not handle it much longer. “If I ever stop loving you it will be because you used me for your own personal gain.”

“Let me see your hand-”

“No!” you staggered away.

“Y/N give me your hand!”

“What did you do that night Loki? When you took the hematite?” Tears rolled down your cheeks unbeknownst to you or him if they were from the physical or emotional pain. “Did you only marry me to use my dark s-” You did not finish as you finally fainted from the overwhelming ordeal. Exhausted in mind and body.

Loki caught you bringing you to lay on the bed. “Stubborn woman,” he cursed as he hurried to heal you, he himself being emotionally drained. 

You weakly attempted to move your hand, “Don’t touch me...”

“Only if you listen.” HIs hands held yours tenderly before kissing the palm in retaliation to your rebellion against him. “Yes, I used your dark seidr to create a portal which the Jotuns could use to access the vault without Heimdall’s notice.” He looked away hesitating to continue. 

You sighed feeling relieved in some odd way. Now you knew why you harbored a guilty conscience. This day could not have been anymore taxing on you than it already was. 

“But you should never doubt my feelings for you,” Loki sincerely confessed. As soon as your hand was back to normal he knelt down on the floor at your bedside thinking how you were the only one who could ever put him in such a position. He had lost so much already, he couldn’t lose you too. “I have lost so much already...”

Incredibly angry and incredibly foolishly you still felt for this man. Love kept you anchored to him despite his ways. Even if he did not voice his concerns you heard them in your heart. Loki was concerned you would leave him in his time of need.

“There is something I told Sigyn before I was won over by your charms that references this exact moment.” You advised Sigyn to marry a man who would seek more than just sexual satisfaction. “Spouses are always bound to fight, although none as much as we do.” The two of you shared a knowing nod and chuckle at the accurate sentiment. “But I also feel no one understands and loves as much as we do.”

You held his hands helping him up to stand with you. 

Loki smiled as relief washed over him as your words got to him. You were truly his greatest accomplishment. There was no one he would ever desire in his lifetime. 

“I assure, you will never lose me.” You inched forward as he did the same. Slowly but surely your lips were reacquainted with one another. The slow passionate kiss did not resolve everything but it was a good place to start.

Loki did not take the moment for granted. He knew what awaited him the moment he stepped back out there. WIth Thor banished to Midgard and Asgard’s king in Odinsleep, Loki would have to face Queen Frigga- another person who lied to him. 

Everything seemed so uncertain out there.

But for now, he would enjoy the one part of his life he was certain about.

You.

-end-

A/N: From here on out it will get angsty and some people might get hurt. After this is the whole scene in Thor where Frigga makes Loki King and he starts losing it so prepare yourselves.

Tag List: @drakesfiance​ @sweetacp

[modernmisterdarcy]

A Pleasant Call

Lady Eirene all but stumbled into the room, and Adrian gave a start, as if he might hurry forward to help her. But she seemed to recover, and gracefully join her father's side. Their eyes met, and Adrian was struck by the change which came over her features, and her professed delight at seeing him again.

So many pretty words... polite conversation... country charm... heed it not, old boy.

Yet he could hardly help himself. He was just a man, and Miss King was as sweet as a spring breeze. He bowed to her, and smiled.

“The delight is mine as much as yours, Miss King!” the Duke exclaimed. “It seems an eternity has past since I last had the pleasure of seeing you.”

“Chronic fever will do that to a man,” muttered Tobias, earning a withering glare from his brother.

Next, it was Toby's turn to be introduced. He bowed, and nodded, and turned to Miss King.

“You every bit as lovely as I had heard,” the Marquess proclaimed with a grin. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

It was to be the only charming thing Toby said that day.

“Oh! And speaking of – I do hope you both will be able to make it to my party next week,” said Miss King.

“I’m afraid I’ll accept nothing short of your attendance; I’ve already included you in the headcount,” said the Earl.

“But of course, we'll be delighted to attend,” the Duke said in earnest, his gaze transfixed on Lady Eirene. His features maintained their usual neutral expression, but he could not keep the sparkle from his eyes when he spoke.

“Do not get too far ahead of yourself, Lord King, my brother is prey to bouts of poor health. Including him in the headcount now may be premature,” said the Marquess, and again, Adrian shot him a look.

As the Earl took his leave of the company, Toby issued a little scoff. The man was trying to set his brother up with the girl, and Tobias liked it not one bit. His gaze shifted from the retreating Earl to the Duke. Adrian looked awful. Perhaps only Toby could see the way he struggled to look strong, perhaps only Toby knew how desperately tired Adrian would be later, perhaps only Toby knew enough about the very private Duke, to understand what a dreadful strain he put himself under. And Tobias saw Adrian striving so hard to impress the girl. Even Adrian did not know how hard he was trying, but Toby, who had seen his brother's abysmal health over the past few days, saw everything.

They proceeded to a parlor for a light tea. While Adrian perched tidily on the edge of a loveseat, his walking-stick leaning against the side, Toby flung himself into a chair and slung his leg over its arm, clearly comfortable in his surroundings, if not the very most welcome. Not as welcome as his beloved, utterly perfect brother, at least. Of course not. Nobody loved Toby the way they all seemed to worship Adrian. Nobody had really loved him, it seemed, since his father had died.

“We've come to return this volume to you,” Adrian said, producing Eirene's book from the inner pocket of his jacket. He proferred it out, but before Eirene could so much as move, Tobias snatched the volume away.

“Ah yes, agricultural chemistry! A most invigorating subject. I wonder what such a lovely girl as you is doing reading such an esoteric volume as this?” Toby opened the book and skimmed a page at random. “Alfalfa! Of course! Why did I not think of it myself? The very best for grazing cattle, don't you think, Adrian?” Toby uttered a caustic laugh, resenting Eirene more by the minute, the longer he had to watch Adrian continue to over-extend himself. He knew that the more he disliked Eirene, the more Adrian would like her, and at this he should've kept his mouth shut. But he was hungover, of course, and the strain Adrian's constant and severe illness put on his spirit was too great. Toby's self-restraint was all but spent.

“You must be a strange sort of lady, reading something like that.” Toby tossed the book in her direction, and it landed neatly on the sofa beside her. “Hardly what I would call a lovely subject.”

“I believe that enrichment of the mind is an admirable pursuit, no matter the topic,” said the Duke. “I apologize for my brother's current mood, his tongue seems to perpetually hang loose in his head.”

“Oh aye, aye, the loosest of tongues,” Toby said with a sage sort of nod. “One day it might just wag off and fall out!”

“We should be so lucky,” said Adrian in a long-suffering way.

“I say, Miss King, do tell us more about your party next week,” said Tobias. “How lovely it shall be! I shouldn't wonder if it lays my dear brother in his bed for a week afterward, with such loveliness.”

“Tobias Byron Wolfe,” the Duke said through gritted teeth, unable to so much as look at Toby.

“That is, indeed, the syllable by which I am called,” said the younger of the brothers, smiling impishly, knowing full well that he could provoke Adrian as much as he liked, and that there was nothing Adrian could or would do until later. When they got home, there would be a horrific row, an interminable lecture about decorum and politeness, and eventually Adrian would exhaust himself and collapse into a chair by the fire. Then, Toby would go out drinking again, or perhaps retire to his room with a bottle of brandy, and Adrian would cough and read until he could do no more, and retired with his laudanum and his pride.

“I've heard you called by others,” Adrian said coolly, earning a loud snort from his brother.

“Have you! I dare you to name them,” Tobias cackled.

“I'll not, for some of us present remember their manners in mixed company. I'd thank you to be quiet, if you'll not be pleasant. As I was saying, Miss King, I deeply apologize for Tobias's behavior. It is most untoward.��

“Most,” Toby agreed. “You both ought to censure me most severely right this minute!”

[rendiggitydog]

In which Evil X isn’t very evil:

"Ugh, I need a vacation," Evil Xisuma sighed and leaned against his rock. The cave was quite nice, since Ex had lived there for quite some time. The floor had been swept that morning, and the walls were warmly lit with small torches. "Where could I go on a vacation?"

He dug his old, yellowing map out of a box, and smoothed it across the floor. The map displayed the area above his cave in faded greens and browns. There was a forest, some hilly mountains, and a bay opening into the ocean.

"I loved the mountains last time I went out, but it's been quite a while. Maybe I'll go back and see if it's changed." He sang to himself as he packed a small box of food and armor, and a make-shift sleeping sack. "Let's go!"

—

Stress hummed a tune as she strolled through the shopping district. The sun was shining, and the birds chirped, covering the valley in a muted blanket of peace.

"Oh my days!"

Stress heard Xisuma shouting from the base of the mountain, under the Sahara Project. She quickly ran over, and peeked down the slope, spotting an armored figure at the banks of the river. The sunlight glinted off his armor, but she could have sworn the armor appeared red. "Oi! X! Are you alright?"

He turned to her, but didn't seem to recognize her. "Hello! Who are you?"

"Why I'm Stressmonsta! Are you not Xisuma?"

The man scoffed as he hopped across the river, making his way up the hill towards her. "Don't call me that name! I'm Evil Xisuma!" He stood proudly beside her, giving a clear view of his outfit. It was nearly identical to Xisuma's suit, except red, with a black cape draped over his shoulders.

"Oh," She thought for a moment. "Didn't you nearly blow up all of our Season Five homes?"

"Well, yes, but then I was banished. Do you know where I am now? Because last I thought I was leaving my base to head to the mountains!"

"Hm. Well, this is our Season Six shopping district, and you just came out of that hole!" She motioned to the hole in the side of the mountain.

"What!? Are you telling me you moved Hermitcraft right on top of my cave?" Ex looked around in disbelief.

"I suppose so! Would you like a tour?"

Ex blinked in surprise. "...I don't see why not!"

—

"What is that?" Ex stared as two hermits soared overhead.

Stress laughed. "That's Grian and Iskall!"

"But- they're in the sky!"

"Well, yeah! They're using their elytra to fly! Have you neva seen an elytra?"

Ex paused. "Maybe...? I was in my cave for a long time.."

"Well, this cant stand!" Stress found an ender chest and rummaged through it, triumphantly pulling out a spare elytra. "Let's teach you to fly!"

"Ah, I'm not sure.. I'm more confident on the ground..." Ex stepped back, eyeing the elytra.

"That's because you've never tried it! Cmon!"

—

After a long, painful process, the two were in the sky, gliding (somewhat) gracefully over the ocean.

"See, flying's not bad!" Stress laughed.

"I suppose." Ex laughed nervously. "Where are we going?"

"I figured we could stop by Mumbo's base. It's real pretty!" Stress motioned to the giant sphere appearing out of the fog.

Stress landed gracefully on the catwalk, and helped Ex land without taking too much damage. He could only stare, jaw dropped, at the bright, futuristic base.

Just then, Mumbo strolled around the beam in the center, shrugging on his suit coat. He smiled when he noticed Stress, but jumped a mile when he spotted Ex. "E- Evil Xisuma!" Mumbo squeaked. He shuddered, fumbling for his sword, which dropped with a clang.

"It's okay Mumbo, he's a friend!" Stress threw her arms around Ex, who stood awkwardly.

"But- But- Last season he ruined my redstone!"

"That was a long time ago! He's better now, right Ex?" She looked expectantly at him.

Ex shuffled his feet. "Yes, I'm doing much better now."

Mumbo visibly relaxed. "Oh good! How are you two doing then?"

"I'm fantastic! I'm taking Ex on a tour, and it's really fun, right Ex?"

"Flying is... different."

"I totally understand." Mumbo laughed. "Well I was just grabbing some observers, so I'd better head back to work!"

Ex perked up. "Observer? What does that do?"

"Ah ha, I- I suppose it's difficult to explain! Can I show you?"

"Yes please!"

Mumbo taught Ex and Stress about redstone, both entranced by the unique element. After a while, Ex developed a headache, and decided it was time to go.

"Thanks Mum! Good luck!" Stress waved as she and Ex flew off.

"There's so much I didn't know about redstone..." Ex sighed, holding his head.

"Me nieva! It's really difficult, but Mumbo's a helpful fella. I'm much better at buildin!" She swooped in front of Ex, proudly displaying her ice castle.

"Wow..." He breathed. "You're really good!"

Stress giggled. "Thanks love! I'm fond of the stone bricks with the ice!"

"Stone... bricks?" Ex curiously followed Stress to the base of the castle.

Stress stifled a laugh. "You don't even know stone bricks? You've been in that cave a while!"

"I'm sure I've seen them, it's just been a while!" He defended. "How did you make these out of cobble?" He ran his fingers over the uniform bricks.

"Not cobble, silly! Stone! You have to use silk touch!"

Ex's blank expression said it all.

"You've really forgotten everything, huh? Cmon, let me show you."

-----

"Thank you for the wonderful day, Stress! It was so nice to meet you!" Ex thanked Stress as they strolled arm in arm down the lane.

"I forgot we only just met today! I hope you'll come visit again soon!"

"Who's visiting?" Grian zoomed past, soaring straight up in the air before drifting back down. "Who's this?"

"This is Exy! Exy, this is Grian, our newest member!"

Ex went in for a handshake, but Grian, beaming, pulled him into a tight hug. "So cool to meet someone new! Speaking of which, are you a hermit? I've never met you, but here you are!"

"I, uh..." Ex rubbed his neck. "Well..."

Just then Jevin glided in, waving to the small group. "Hey Grian, have you seen Mum-" He froze. "Uh, what's goin on here?" He looked between Stress and Grian's cheerful grins and Ex's anxious stare. "I- I'm not even gonna ask.." He shook his head, flying off.

"Well he was rude! He didn't even say hi!" Grian folded his arms.

"I know why..."

Suddenly, Xisuma strolled around the corner, pulling his helmet off and shaking his hair out. Ex tensed, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I better go..." Ex murmured to Stress, eyes darting to find a good direction to run.

"How did you get here? I thought we left you in Season 5?" X's commanding voice cemented Ex's feet to the ground.

"Left him? Last season? What are you on about X?" Grian unconsciously took a step forward, blocking Ex from view.

"Do you know who this is Grian? Or why he looks and sounds just like me?" X stepped forward, making Ex flinch.

Grian couldn't read X's tone, and now he was conflicted. Why was he defending a stranger that X clearly knew better than he did anyway? Why were they so similar?

Grian's hesitation allowed X to step around him, approaching Ex, who squeezed his eyes shut.

"...just ban me already..." Ex muttered.

"Ban you? Now why would I do that?"

"It wouldn't be the first time." He gritted his teeth, awaiting the dreaded feeling of his body dissolving into the void.

X's laugh cut through the tense air like a knife. "And never get to see my favorite brother again? Never!" X threw his arms around Ex, who seemed paralyzed with fear and confusion.

Stress seemed just as confused, as she made a little squeak noise.

"What just happened?" Grian rubbed his head in confusion.

X stepped away from the hug, but kept one arm around Ex. "This is my brother, Exy!"

Ex finally came to his senses and shoved X away. "You are not my brother! I'm your evil clone!"

X shrugged, not phased. "You've always been around, and we used to get along just fine! Have you decided you actually want to be evil now?"

Ex froze. "Wait, no. I'm not evil." The gears turned in his brain. "But if I'm not evil, then what's my name? I can't just be Xisuma Two!"

"You're right!" The small crew contemplated the strange situation for a moment.

"Harold?" Stress offered. Ex stuck his tongue out.

"How about Poultry Man?" Grian suggested with a chuckle, earning him playful glares.

"I've always just called you Exy, I can't imagine anything else!" X ran his fingers through his hair.

"I like Exy, it's kinda cute! And it still sounds a little like Xisuma." Stress smiled.

Ex shook his head. "Fine, but it's cool, not cute."

"Whatever you say. Now, how on earth did you get here?"

Ex showed Xisuma the cave he had made in the hillside, and recounted his experience that morning.

"Huh! I must have banished you here, and then subconsciously used the same seed for our new world! Well, welcome to the hermit family, I suppose!"

"Welcome yes, family no. I'd rather hang out in my cave over you guys. Except maybe Stress." He threw her a bashful glance, and she instantly wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Anytime you wanna hang out, text me! And don't forget to polish your armor, it looks much better that way. Oh, and take some cookies I made, they're really good-!"

Ex smiled as Stress fussed over him. "I'll be fine. I'll text you, I promise."

Stress held him at arms length. "Love you hun. Come back soon."

"I will, I promise! I've got to go now, bye Stress!" Ex glanced at Grian and X, who were giving the friends some space. He gave a wave and a short smile, and returned to the safety of his cave.

"I hope he'll be okay.." Stress wrung her hands.

"He'll be fine, he's very independent." X put his arm around her shoulder.

Grian raised an eyebrow, pulling out his magnifying glass with a grin. "Now, about those cookies you gave him..?"

[writing-royza]

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul: Chapter Thirty-three - Queen, Subdued

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! Well, it took five weeks, but I finally managed to update. For those of you who didn't get to see my reasons in the explanation post I made, it's been kind of a rough month. First, I lost my beloved pet cat, so didn't much feel like writing. Then I came down with a stomach bug, and just as I was starting to shake that, a cold. I was finally on the mend this week, so it was back to writing! I'm so very sorry this has taken so long, but I appreciate everyone's patience, and the kind words of encouragement. You're all incredibly sweet, and I feel so very loved. On we go!

I do not own FMA.

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

Chapter Thirty-three - Queen, Subdued

ABANDONED BATHHOUSE, JADAD, ISHVAL 0543 HOURS, APRIL 30

Rebecca knew she wasn't going to make it out of this place without a cold, much less her life. For three hours now, she and the others had been forced to remain in this damp, chilly corner of the former bathhouse, crouched on the still-damp tiles and imprisoned by the bars Armstrong had been made to alchemise from the floor.

She shivered, snugging her arms tighter around her chest and glaring at the three vampires in the centre of the room. "There's got to be some way out of this," she grumbled, gritting her teeth so that they wouldn't chatter. "Some way to break out, to change them back, to take them down…. Just… something."

"We're open to suggestions," Fuery muttered back. His gaze travelled upward, to where the skylight stood, covered now on the outside in a solid layer of sandy muck. "The sunlight option is out, since they made us cover the biggest window in the place. What else are they susceptible to?"

"Not much," Miles said, his face grim. "We could try burning them out into daylight, if we could get a fire going. Or if we could get our protection charms back —" He pointed to the forlorn looking little pile of pouches discarded against another wall that the vampires have confiscated. "— we could try and loop them around their necks."

"It would be more effective to make them swallow them," Scar said darkly. His red eyes never left the trio of villains, narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Or, hear me out, we could try and play them at their own game," Breda said, so quietly, they almost didn't hear him. Sitting farthest back, right in the corner, he made sure to keep his voice down so that he wouldn't be overheard. As the others turned to look his way, he leaned forward. "Listen carefully…."

As Scar listened, he glanced back over her shoulder to where the vampires were talking quietly amongst themselves… and wondered how it had ever come to this.

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

FOUR HOURS EARLIER

Breda was the last to kneel. He stood tall, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You're forgetting something," he said boldly, his voice clear in the echoing space. "You're still trapped in that circle. You talk about going to the Ishvalan leadership, of declaring yourselves rulers — what makes you think you're going anywhere?"

He had a good vantage point from where he stood, able to see at least a third of the circle. From as far as he could tell, all the runes were intact; the circle should be unbreakable. In fact, he was sure it was; they hadn't made a move to leave it before now, even requesting to be sealed in… but perhaps only to put the humans at ease, to make them believe they were safe.

That thought caused a sinking feeling in his chest, one that only worsened as Hawkeye smiled slyly, beginning to move around the edge of the circle, toward the left wall of the atrium. "We had to leave ourselves a back door, so to speak. What if there was a fire, or we needed to use the bathroom? We'd have to get out somehow."

She slid effortlessly down the sloped side of the empty bathing pool, going to the middle and stopping before it began sloping upward again. Bending, she worked her fingernails under the edge of a tile marked with the rune for 'mercy' and flipped it out of its place in the grouting. Getting gracefully to her feet, she took a lithe step forward… out of the inscribed circle. She paused only for the briefest of dazzling smiles… and then lunged forward, her white streak of a form curling snakelike around young Fuery's body. She rematerialized, whipping the man's charm from around his neck, throwing it aside, and wrapping an arm across his throat before the rest of them could so much as gasp.

"Now, then," she purred, her lips — and fangs — mere inches from his neck. "If we're to move forward and get things ready for our coup and coronation, we're going to have to have a little cooperation here." The fingers of her free hand fisted in the back of Fuery's shirt as he tried to wrench away. "Ah ah, don't fight it, sweetheart, you'll just hurt yourself. As for the rest of you…." Her purple eyes gleamed menacingly. "Take care of the chores I have for you, and dear Fuery here will live to see his beloved superiors crowned. Fair?

Her eyes went to Breda, still on his feet, the others crouched low and in shock around him. "Well? What's it going to be, big man?" She grinned. "Fight, and I bite. Or, yield and kneel?"

For a long moment, he stood straight and stiff, hating the powerless position he found himself in. To take one of her own subordinates hostage, to use him as a bargaining chip to get her way…. He had to remind himself that this was not Riza Hawkeye that he faced; this was something far more ruthless and unforgiving than he had ever faced… including himself.

Slowly, reluctantly, he knelt.

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

CURRENT TIME

"If I remember Miles' description of this building correctly," Breda murmured, "the other side of this wall should be changing rooms. If one of us can slip through a hole into there, they can sneak out and around to the broken part of the circle and re-seal them inside it."

"It's true," Falman said, looking back over his shoulder. "They're both speaking with Kimblee at the moment, inside the circle's bounds. If we could trap even one of them inside, it'd even the odds a bit more."

"How do we break through?" Rebecca asked, eyeing the stone blocks of the wall. "These look pretty solid, and doesn't alchemy make a sound when you use it? Not to mention the light given off by a transmutation."

"Alchemy does," Scar said, catching on to Breda's plan. "But my arm of destruction makes no light and very little sound. Even less, if I were to be careful. I could slowly and completely destroy the block before they noticed, and allow someone to slip through… though it would be a tight fit."

"Me," Fuery said, sounding surprised, but game. "I'm the smallest person here; it has to be me."

Breda nodded, watching his comrade with grim determination. "You've already been through some pretty stressful stuff tonight, being held hostage while we covered up the skylight and confiscated the charms," he said. "No one here will blame you if you don't want to put yourself at risk like this."

"I'd blame myself," the young man said firmly. "That's our superiors over there, taken over by things we barely understand. If I don't try to help them, regardless of the danger, just what has the Colonel spent the last several years working with us for?" He smiled. "He would be disappointed in me, if he were himself."

"Okay." Putting a hand on the young man's shoulder, he gave it a friendly, reassuring shake. "Try to find a way out and smash the skylight; when you do, we'll bust out as a group and help trap them in the circle again."

Trying to move as quietly as possible, the group rearranged themselves, Scar sitting to one side of the block chosen for destruction, with Armstrong's bulk between it and their captors. Breda waited until he was sure their shuffling hadn't been noticed, before giving the Ishvalan warrior a small nod.

Reaching down, Scar pressed the fingers of his right hand to the damp stone, feeling the energy in the tattoos of his arm building up, ready to seep into the porous rock. He had to be careful here; too much energy at once would certainly do the job, but the sound of the crumbling block would almost certainly alert the vampires to their improvised plan. This wasn't the brute force of attacking human enemies; this required finesse.

He released the energy, just a trickle, and felt the first chunk of stone crack and separate from the main block. He moved his hand just in time to catch the piece before it could audibly hit the floor. An adjustment would have to be made. Shifting, he positioned the edge of his robe under the new gap in the stone, and settled back to work.

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

"Look, we realize that if you're going to have to be imprisoned for the next however many years — decades, probably — that you should have a say in your stay," Riza said, her arms folded as she tried to reason with the annoyed sire inside the circle. "We're inhuman, not inhumane. You should be comfortable."

"Think of it as putting an aging relative in a nursing home," Roy muttered beside her, unable to fully smother the satisfied grin the thought elicited in him. "You'll be well taken care of, we assure you."

"You can take your assurances and shove them down your throat," Kimblee shot back irritably. "I hope you choke on them."

Riza reached out, touching the back of her hand to Roy's chest to stave off his inevitable snapped remark, then spoke herself. "You'll come around in time." She turned to her partner. "Now, the sun will be up in less than an hour; I'm going to work on security arrangements for our announcement to the Ishvalan leaders. It'll be no fun if we get there and then lose half the night fighting. After that, I'm going to get some rest. I suggest you do the same."

Roy grinned. "Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

"I could be," she teased, returning the smile.

"I'd rather you kill me outright than have to listen to this drivel," Kimblee muttered, not bothering to try and speak sotto voce.

Still smiling, Riza turned away from the circle to head back into the little lair she and Roy had fashioned from one of the changing rooms… and stopped as movement caught her eye. In the far corner, the little knot of their prisoners were sitting together, some talking quietly, others simply watching. And in the open archway of the change room nearest them, a shadowed shape moved.

Her eyes, adjusted to the darkness and meant to see in dim conditions, instantly picked out Fuery's pale, wide-eyed face as he froze, clearly caught trying to sneak across the changing room interior.

"Seems like one of our little pets has gotten out of his cage," she said softly, taking a gliding step toward him. Behind her, she caught the sound of movement as Roy's head turned to look. Her eyes darted from Fuery to the stone bars alchemised from the floor and back again; the gaps were too narrow for him to have squeezed out, so how…? "I don't know how he managed it… but I suppose we'll have to escort him back to his friends."

The young man stepped forward, standing straight in what, admittedly, was a brave posture. "You were my friend once, too, you know. Friends don't trap friends in abandoned buildings and try to take over other friends' —" He nodded toward Scar and Miles. "— civilizations."

Riza sighed. "Listen, kid, my host might have been your friend, but I'm not. When are you going to get that through your head? The saying is cliché, but… I didn't come here to make friends." She took another step toward him. "I came here to rule, not —"

Fuery glanced once at the others behind the bars, then rushed headlong at his former Lieutenant. Before she could finish her sentence, he lowered one shoulder and rammed full force into her torso, driving her back. The pair of them cannoned into the invisible wall of the inner circle, falling to the floor together.

With an animalistic snarl, Roy lunged forward, knocking Fuery away from Riza and onto his back on the floor. Pinning the Master Sergeant by way of a forearm across his clavicle, he bared his teeth, ready to sink them into the vulnerable neck.

From across the room came several loud cracks, and the sound of stone falling on stone as Scar swiped at the bars with his right arm, shattering the makeshift prison. Together, he and Armstrong stepped forward into the room.

"Release the Master Sergeant," Armstrong rumbled, his blue eyes hard and hands curled into fists.

Roy grinned. "Make me."

The smile dropped away from his face as the others stepped up behind the two men, all looking grim, determined, or both. He hesitated for a moment, then pushed to his feet, leaving Fuery on the ground. "Guys, you've got to ask yourselves: is a bum rush on a vampire really a good idea?" His teeth gleamed as he spoke, the points of his fangs visible. "In all the confusion… somebody could get bitten."

"Shouldn't matter," Miles returned coolly. "Since neither of you is leaving this place with that curse intact." His eyes went past Roy to where Kimblee stood watching from inside the inner circle. "We'll make sure of that."

Climbing to her feet, Riza shot him a withering look. "And how are you planning to do that? You're more likely to get torn to shreds than bring him down; his murder victims prove that."

"They were unsuspecting, or incapacitated," Breda pointed out, his voice cold. "We're not."

Four of them started forward, Falman, Armstrong, Rebecca, and Breda advancing with deliberate steps. Fuery climbed to his feet, taking a step back to re-gather his courage as the others took over. Riza braced both hands on the invisible wall of the inner circle, taking several deep breaths to prepare herself for the fight to come….

"Let me out," a voice hissed behind her. Kimblee, standing close by the wall, tense as a coiled spring, waiting for release. "Let me out, and I'll deal with them. They don't stand a chance against me."

"Shut up," she snapped. "You're staying put; if I let you out, how am I supposed to get you back in there?"

His return comment of "That's the idea" was drowned out as she dodged the first punch from her former best friend. It was evident in Rebecca's expression that she regretted having to fight this thing with Riza's face, but she swung gamely, trying to connect. Military training kept her in the fight; reflexes kept Riza from taking a fist to the nose as she either dodged or blocked. She was vaguely aware of the sound of more cracking and falling stone, but ignored it, focussed instead on the fight as Falman joined in the fray.

With two on one, to go on the offensive, she would have to quit playing by the rules. Blocking a hit from Falman aimed at her ribs, she took a step forward past the blow Rebecca had aimed at her cheek, and stomped her foot down on the other woman's. Rebecca gasped, her guard dropping for an instant… but it was long enough. Riza's hand snaked out, wrapping around her throat and turning on the spot, she dragged Rebecca to stand as a human shield between her and Falman.

Beside her, Roy was hard pressed by both Armstrong and Breda. The latter wasn't much of a fighter, but knew how to throw a punch, just not as well as his counterpart. Roy was ignoring Breda entirely, focussing his attention on blocking Armstrong's strikes and trying to find a way past his defense.

Riza grinned, putting her face close to Rebecca's as the other woman tugged ineffectually at her hand, trying to dislodge its grip on her windpipe. "You would have been fine, you know," she said quietly. "We would have let you live. But you couldn't just sit quietly and wait for us to finish our business." As Falman came around the side, intent on getting to her, Riza planted her free hand on his chest and shoved him away; he stumbled backward, and fell to the floor. "So now, instead of remaining as a subject… you are the first instance of resistance we'll have to remove."

A new sound came over the noise of fighting; the muffled shatter of glass. A lot of glass.

She looked up, the air filling with swirling, glittering motes of sand and vaporized glass, to where Scar stood silhouetted against the lightening sky of dawn, the fingers of his right hand still splayed in the air where the skylight had been. Red eyes glared down at her, the lack of emotion turning the expression dangerous.

Dropping her hold on Rebecca's throat, she turned, intent on sprinting for the shadow of the changing rooms… and stopped as she almost collided with a kneeling Miles. He looked up, the stubby ceremonial knife in his hand… and a rune etched into the grouting where she had removed the tile earlier.

"Everyone back!" he shouted, not moving from his position.

Falman grabbed Rebecca by the arm, towing her outside the circle as she coughed, her breath returning. Armstrong leapt back several feet, Breda close behind him. Teeth bared, Roy tried to follow, ramming shoulder first into a new invisible wall.

Her hands in fists at her sides, Riza gave the Ishvalan soldier an acidic look. "This is a temporary measure," she spat. "You think we can't find another loose tile you've written on? As soon as we break a single rune, the circle will be nulled again, and then…. Then, we'll finish it."

Climbing to his feet, Miles stared her down across the barrier. "Try," he invited darkly. "See how far you get. But can you make it before there's too much light?" He pointed upward. "The sun is rising, vampire. Your time is short."

Gritting her teeth, Riza glanced over her shoulder. Roy was already prowling the perimeter, his eyes on the ground as he searched for loose tiles. Granted, they could always loosen one themselves, but that would take time. Time they didn't have, and time that would almost certainly be interrupted by the humans. One would have to work at loosening it while the other ran interference. And she was already beginning to feel the depletion of energy after the fight —

No… not from the fight.

She looked up again, Scar still visible on the rim of the shattered skylight, standing tall and staring off to the east. Already, she could see the pink glow beginning to play over his white hair, could see the slowly growing brightness spreading across the sky. She stood there, simply staring, knowing that there was no way out of the circle, no way that she could avoid the hated sunlight, no way she could get at the humans and vent her rage unless they stepped inside the circle….

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

What happened next, Miles could only describe later as 'she went crazy.'

One moment, the vampire was standing perfectly still, her head tilted back as she gazed up through the void in the ceiling to the sky, her hands at her sides, and her expression composed.

And in the next instant, her face contorted with the most primal rage he had ever witnessed… and she screamed. On some levels, it was a frustrated child, unable to express their feelings through the words of a limited vocabulary. On so many others, however, it was a trapped and furious animal, railing against the bars and the injustices heaped upon it.

It wasn't a short scream, either. She had taken a deep breath prior to the outburst, and used that to make it last for nearly a full minute. The sound echoed off the tiled walls, ricocheting around the space over and over again. Everyone covered their ears, some squeezing their eyes shut as if to escape that way.

Still screaming, she launched herself into a pale streak of motion, her elongated rapid-travel form bouncing from wall to wall of her prison. The scream died out, but the blur remained, spinning ever faster around the circle. Mustang stood with his back pressed against the inner wall, his eyes the only part of him that moved as he tried to watch what was happening. He recognized the desperation of their situation, certainly, but he reacted with far less fury than Hawkeye.

Kimblee, for his part, looked on almost boredly as the vampiress vented her spleen. Scar watched from the lip of the broken skylight, blank-faced but alert to any danger. When Miles glanced back over his shoulder to check on the others, he found them staring dumbfounded at the spectacle.

Finally, after nearly three minutes of continuous tearing around the outer circle, Hawkeye came to a sudden stop. She stood with her head bowed, her chest heaving with lost breath, her long hair falling around her face like a curtain. She trembled visibly all over, her hands fixed in tight, white-knuckled fists.

Coming up beside him, Armstrong placed three retrieved protection charms into his hand. "Best do it now," he murmured, his eyes steady on the vampires. "One for you, one for each of them. Hawkeye first; the Colonel is more likely to come quietly if she's already taken care of."

Nodding acknowledgement, Miles slipped the first charm over his head and stepped forward. Mustang's eyes instantly shot in his direction, his body tensing… but he stayed put. Miles gave him a warning look anyway, just as he stepped cautiously across the barrier, stopping in front of Hawkeye's unnaturally still form.

He held the cord of the second charm ready, closing the few feet between them. She lifted her head at his approach, her eyes still angry… but with the majority of the fight gone out of her. Miles stopped, watching her closely for a reaction.

Her smile didn't have as much strength. "If I weren't so tired," she said slowly, "I'd rip that ridiculous thing off your neck and treat myself to breakfast." She looked up. "I'd be having it al fresco, apparently. How luxurious."

Without answering, he reached forward, slipping the cord over her head. Just before he pulled his hands back, she made a nipping motion at the inside of his wrist, causing him to jerk back in alarm. The pouch thudded against her chest, and she grimaced, one hand reaching up to plug her nose.

"Take it easy," she scolded, sounded more exhausted by the second. "Can't a girl have a little fun?"

Mustang was approaching slowly from behind her, and as she swayed drunkenly from the charm beginning to take effect, he caught her around the shoulders, easing down to sit with her head pillowed in his lap. He tensed visibly, jaws clenching as his nose detected the vile smell no one else could sense.

Miles, feeling uneasy with the anticlimactic delivery of the charm, stepped back outside the circle to wait.

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

Silence fell over the damp room. Hawkeye lay quietly with her eyes closed, twitching every so often as she forced back the urge to gag in reaction to the charm around her neck. Mustang seemed to be going through the same reaction, his already pale face taking on a greenish tinge.

Miles edged up to the barrier, watching closely. When the change came, it was far less violent than last time, perhaps because this time, she expected it. She took a careful deep breath, her hands pressing flat to the floor in evident dizziness. Mustang was murmuring quietly, soothingly, his fingers trailing slow, gentle over her hair.

Her body relaxed, sinking farther back against the stone and Mustang's lap. Her chin lifted, and she took a deep breath… and her eyes, when they opened, were her normal clear, whisky-brown. Her lips parted, taking in a second deep breath, her colour showing the first signs of returning to mingle with the faint hint of green around her mouth.

"Ohhhhh…" she groaned, one hand lifting to her forehead. "That… does not get any more pleasant…."

She sat up slowly, then froze, her shoulders hitching in one last gag before she swallowed hard and huffed out a breath. "Sorry," she murmured. "I just need a moment; it'll fade."

Miles stepped forward, holding up the third and final charm. "Colonel? Your turn, sir. This isn't you, and you know it."

For a moment, Mustang backed away along the floor, his lip curling to show his pointed teeth. His shoulders lifted, hands at the ready to fend off whoever came at him with the hated object. His gaze went from Miles to Riza… and he hesitated. She was looking back over her shoulder, brown eyes glaring. Threatening.

"Take it," she warned, her voice low. "Take it, or so help me, I'll put it around your neck myself."

Mustang swallowed hard, visibly intimidated — she was the one who had turned him, it was only natural he should follow her orders — and then, reluctantly, slowly abandoned his tense posture, allowing Miles to approach slowly, carefully. Though to say he did so without glowering venomously the entire time would be a lie.

She watched his humanity return without the dramatic side effects she had experienced the first time, though not without the nausea and dizziness. Roy dropped to his knees, hands braced on the floor as he retched, and Riza had to look away so that the sight wouldn't trigger her own vomiting. The process of returning humanity became a little easier the second time around, but not by much.

Finally, she heard him take a shaky break and then spit, followed by a muffled curseword as he wiped a sleeve across his mouth, and knew the worst was over.

Getting to her feet, she turned to where Rebecca stood a few metres away, watching with one hand to the reddened flesh of her throat. Guilt slammed into her chest, restricting her breathing for a moment. Those large, dark eyes watched her with a mixture of worry and suspicion. "Becca… I'm so sorry. I wasn't —" She stopped, frowning. "It's a terrible excuse, but I wasn't myself. Are you all right?"

With a roll of her eyes, the other woman stepped forward, crossing the barrier to enfold her friend in a hug. "You're crazy," she said, quietly. "But you're my crazy. I'm okay; it didn't go on for long enough to do any real damage." She leaned back, levelling a finger at Riza's nose. "But do that again, and I'm going to shoot you in the foot. Got it?"

Riza broke into a smile. "Loud and clear." Disengaging herself, she turned to where Breda was helping a still-shaky Roy to his feet. "Sir?"

Roy's shoulders hitched as he swallowed one last gag, one hand on Breda's shoulder for balance, though the red-headed man looked ready to bolt if anything aside from words or breath came out of his commander's mouth. "Yeah," he said at last, voice rough. "I'm okay. I'm good." He looked around the room at the solemn faces, the destroyed stone bars of the former 'cell,' and the hole Scar had created in the wall. "I think we can safely say this is one of the more eventful mornings we've had in a while."

"Certainly one of the more dramatic ones."

Both restored officers turned to see Kimblee, sitting in the centre of the shaft of slowly strengthening light, looking wan and tired… but his purple eyes were alight with annoyance and hatred. "I've been told I'm overdramatic when it comes to explosions and the beauty they create… but it's nothing compared to the two of you and your emotional melodrama." He waved a dismissive hand. "Just profess your undying devotion or what have you, and then get out of here and leave me in peace."

"More like 'in pieces,' with the sun coming up," Fuery ventured. "Within the next hour, you'll hardly be able to move. By noon, you'll be drained completely."

"Not to mention that you're imprisoned there for the foreseeable future," Falman added. "You'll experience the same, day after day, and not be able to escape and feed at night." He looked to Roy and Riza. "How long does a vampire survive without blood?"

The two of them exchanged a look, before Roy spoke. "Well, we never really put it to the test. It would be my guess, however, that if a vampire were to go without blood, it would eventually slip into the trance state that passes for sleep and just… stay that way. At least until some source of blood was given to it."

"However, I doubt we'll be testing that theory," Riza added firmly. "Kimblee retreating to what essentially amounts to a coma will not cure me of the vampirism, nor the Colonel. And I certainly don't want to be wearing this —" She plucked at the charm around her neck. "— for the rest of my life."

Scar spoke up from his bird's-eye view on the rim of the skylight. "Kimblee is as helpless as he's likely to be for the time being. Killing him now would be to do it in cold blood," he pointed out. He waited until both Colonel and Lieutenant were looking up at him before adding, "That mode of destruction is no stranger to me," he said, quietly. "If you want to spare the blood from your hands, I will do it for you."

Silence fell over the atrium, all eyes turning once again to the two suppressed vampires. Roy was the first to speak, murmuring, "It's your call, Hawkeye. You were the first one turned, so you get the final say."

Desire for satisfaction burned in Riza's chest, tightening the muscles and constricting her breath. She wanted nothing more than to take Kimblee's head off, to end the influence he had held over her life for close to a month…. She wanted it to be her own hands, her own actions that ended him, that removed him from this world once and for all. She wanted righteous retribution —

No, she told herself, scoldingly. Call it what it is. You want revenge.

Turning her face back to the broken skylight, she nodded firmly. "Since you offered, thank you. I'm already sullied enough from all of this. Committing a vengeful murder will only add to that." Her eyes dropped back to Kimblee. "And for what he did in the war, you have more of a right to end him than I do."

Scar nodded in acknowledgement, and dropped from the roof to the floor below, landing in a crouch a few metres away from the slowly weakening vampire. "I don't take the same satisfaction in killing State alchemists that I used to," he said calmly. "I no longer seek vengeance. This… this will be a righteous death."

Kimblee rolled his eyes. "More dramatics," he muttered. Getting slowly to his feet, he faced his would-be executioner, hands folded behind his back. "Well, then, no sense in dragging it out. Let's have it."

There was a moment's hesitation as Scar weighed the vampire's words and body language. Clearly, Kimblee felt he still had at least a chance at the upper hand… but it was difficult to see where. The sunlight was weakening him as it strengthened, he hadn't fed in at least twenty-four hours, and he was trapped by a rune circle. Scar was not affected by the light, had had at least a little rest, and could leave the circle any time he chose…. Still, caution was dictated by Kimblee's presence alone.

Caution was not enough.

The moment Scar put a foot toward the former State alchemist, Kimblee launched himself forward. He cannoned into the Ishvalan man, knocking him back a step before seizing him by the arm and turning on the spot, using the momentum and Scar's own weight against him to fling him from the inner circle.

Scar caught his balance just outside the second circle, steadying himself as Kimblee resumed his former casual stance. "It would seem," the vampire said coolly, "that your fears of murdering me in cold blood were unfounded. I don't intend to go down without a fight."

Several seconds of grim silence fell over the atrium… broken when Riza gave a short, annoyed huff of a sigh. "Very well, then," she said, setting her shoulders square and lifting her chin. "Miles? Hand me your knife, please."

"Lieutenant?" Fuery spoke up, halfway curious, halfway anxious. "What are you —"

He broke off as, knife in hand, Riza went to one knee and pried a tile loose from the damp grouting with the knifetip. Flipping the tile out of the way, she stood, stepping forward, across where the barrier between the two circles had been.

"You were offered what would have been a very quick death," she said, brown eyes cold and hard on Kimblee. "But you've declined that. I was ready to let someone else end this, but you've presented yourself as an able opponent." She looked to the side, where Scar was just stepping to the edge of the circle. "Scar, this doesn't mean I appreciate your offer any less, but the rules and circumstances just changed.

"I'll take it from here."

[mimik-u]

Shatterer

Summary: White Diamond is disappointed that Blue Diamond hasn't shattered enough gems lately.

A/N: I woke up at, like, 5AM this morning and couldn't go back to sleep, so I wrote some angst instead.

AO3 Link

The opulent doors leading into White Diamond’s chambers loomed before them, blindingly, sickeningly bright. An ordinary gem might have gotten away with thinking that their luster derived from the Diamond’s formidable powers, or perhaps some kind of artificial lighting technology.

But Yellow Diamond knew better.

She peered through the glamour, the intricate swirling patterns, all silvery veins, and knew intimately that White’s doors were composed of thousands and thousands of shattered gems leached white. She could see the microscopic cracks between the cannibalized shards.

Could hear the whispers, the soft screams, of the ravished. The dead. Trophies of their matriarch’s spoil.

She tightened the grip she had on Blue Diamond’s hand.

And tried not to swallow.

But Blue was sharp, intuitive.

Sensitive to every vibration in Yellow’s body.

Cognizant of every groove she possessed.

“You’re nervous,” she observed without looking at her. Her silvery hair, long and unkempt with neglect, eclipsed her eyes from view.

Those beautiful blue eyes, like startlingly clear pools of water.

Now polluted.

Edged with tired shadows.

“Being here always sets me on edge,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Doesn’t it you?”

Blue swept her thumb along the side of Yellow’s glove—the rhythmic motion slow and smooth, controlled, restrained.

“It did,” she said quietly, “but I was a different gem then.”

They lapsed into silence—they did that often these days—until White Pearl phased through the wall (awful, perverse creature) and told them, “Her Majesty is ready to receive you now.”

When the double doors shuddered to an open, all of its dead gems began to scream.

They untwined their indulgent hands.

They could not let her see.

“Sunlight! Moonlight!” White Diamond purred as they approached her altar. Arms extended—they always were—her posture modeled an alien’s approximation of invitation and welcome. There were knives in her wide smile, knives in the sharp, glowing lines emanating crisply from her body.

Knives in her unnaturally pale eyes, pinning Blue and Yellow down.

“White Diamond,” they murmured together. Yellow gathered her upper body into a stiff bow, Blue gracefully tipped her head, and this would surely be the extent of how much they’d be allowed to speak during this centurial farce of meeting.

Not even surely.

Certainly.

“Oh, dears, it’s been so long since we’ve reconvened. How have you two been? Have your colonies been thriving? No, no—no need to answer. I know they’ve done well with you two at the helm. Yellow, I’m particularly impressed with your Kindergartens on Xerxes; they’ve produced an absolutely stunning vein of Topazes. Broad shoulders. Perfectly cut gems. Excellent work! And Blue! Blue, your Lapis Lazulis aren’t forming with those awful gold markings anymore. Nasty, little pockmarks those things were. Did you incubate them in a nitrogen rich environment as I advised you to? I’m sure you did. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have turned out so pretty! La!”

White suddenly paused, pupils dilating as some unseen stimulus enraptured her attention—as it was wont to do—before she started again, in the same clipped accent as before: “Ooh, my apologies, dears—there was an erosion in Sector 9. Fifteen Peridots were lost, but I’ll be sure to send a drone out there to harvest their pieces. Anyway, I’d love to spend a whole cycle flattering you two—I really would—but I’m afraid that we have more pressing matters to attend to in this meeting. Nothing serious! Nothing serious at all. I just wanted to take a brief nanosecond to address your, ah… shattering habits.”

Directly contradicting the idea of a nanosecond, the very word shattering was thick and luxuriant on her tongue.

Her smile, knife-sharp, landed right between Yellow’s golden eyes.

“I must say, Sunlight, I’m very disappointed in you,” she drawled, and her words did not match her pleasant tone, the sharp lines of her beaming face. “You of all gems, you relentless utilitarian you, have always known the importance of shattering to our fragile ecosystem. A gem misbehaves, unnatural truant that she is, and we eradicate that imperfection in the hopes of creating something new out of her remains. A new gem, perhaps. A machine. A power source. But in the last century, you have only shattered ninety-two truants out of the three-hundred that have passed through your court. I expect more of you, Sunlight. I require your best. Is that understood?”

Yellow nodded curtly, but White wanted more. 

Wanted submission.

Subjugation.

“Why so shy? I want to hear you say it, Sunlight.”

“I… “ she hesitated, an incremental fraction of a second, but it was long enough for her face to seize across her mind’s eye, her loud laugh, her hibiscus pink eyes, “I won’t disappoint you again, my Diamond.”

“Good, good,” White laughed airily, seemingly oblivious to her reluctance but unlikely so, “I’m sure you won’t.”

And then the laughter fell from her face just as suddenly as it had risen there, and her gaze settled coldly upon Blue, who stiffened next to her almost imperceptibly.

But Yellow was sharp, intuitive.

Sensitive to every vibration in Blue’s body.

Cognizant of every groove she possessed.

Just do as she says, she thought desperately. Do as she says, and it’ll all be over soon.

“And you, Moonlight,” White murmured silkily, dangerously, “I’m simply astonished by how poorly you’ve performed these past hundred years. One hundred years, thirty-six thousands of lunar cycles, and you have yet to shatter one gem. You haven’t even held court long enough to shatter a gem! And now, pray tell, why would that be? Are you discontented by something, dear, by this system that has sustained Homeworld for millions and millions of years? Do you have something against me, my love, against us, your Diamond Authority? Please inform me. I only wish to know.”

White leaned forward expectantly—it was only natural that she receive a groveling response—but Blue remained silent.

Immobile.

Her tall head cast down.

Lank hair spilling into her face, eradicating all of her delicate features.

White’s black lips gathered into a frown.

“Moonlight,” she warned, the high lilt of her accent teetering into displeasure, into barely concealed rage, but at the same time, Yellow discreetly extended her hand, brushed the tips of Blue’s fingers that were half-hidden by her robes. She was iced over. She was cold, achingly cold. But all the same, her lips finally began to move.

“I apologize for my negligence, my Diamond,” she intoned lifelessly, perfunctorily. Her chin had not entirely ascended out of insolence; she seemed to be staring at White’s chest. “I was still observing a grieving period for… for Pink Diamond, and in doing so, neglected my responsibilities to Homeworld. Please forgive me.” 

White blinked—a single pop of pale, omniscient eyes—before exhaling slowly.

A sigh, a susurrus that almost passed as understanding. 

Almost.

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I suppose I cannot fault you for grieving for our lost sister. Poor Pink Diamond. My poor, little Starlight. Shattered on Earth, was she not?” She seemed to take pleasure when Blue visibly flinched because she unsheathed her smile once again. “Yes, yes—I thought so. Poor creature. But all that is in the past, Moonlight. You’re a leader, a Diamond. You must put the past to sleep and not a moment too soon. Do I make myself clear?”

Just say yes. Just says yes, Yellow pleaded with her eyes.

But this time, Blue responded almost immediately, leveling her gaze directly into White’s.

Ice clashing against ice.

No—ice clashing against burnished steel.

“Crystal,” she hissed, and Yellow didn’t even have time to call her a damn fool.

White’s shoulders stiffened immediately, and she drew herself to full height, which was a good fifteen feet over Yellow and Blue both.

And her smile widened.

Oh, how it widened.

“Yellow, you’re dismissed for this session,” she said abruptly. “Feel free to return to your halls for the time being.”

Yellow couldn’t help herself, couldn’t bite the words back before they threw themselves past her clenched teeth. “What about Blue?”

The Diamond only laughed, the sound awful and piercing as it struck the tall ceiling of the chamber. 

“Blue is going to hold court.”

◆

“I apologize, Yellow Diamond. You are not permitted to go through,” White Pearl repeated, a sycophantic marionette, a servile tool.

The double doors were thick but not impenetrable, and the screams of dying gems bled through the cracks.

They excavated Yellow’s frenzied mind.

“Let me in there, dammit! There’s something wrong going on in there! I order you to—”

“I apologize, Yellow Diamond.” The Pearl smiled that horrible blank smile of hers and moved a fraction to the right to block Yellow’s grasping hand. “You are not permitted to go through.”

“I’ll shatter you,” she snarled and summoned electricity in her palm to prove it.

“And then you’ll be vulnerable to the repercussions that come with desecrating one of White Diamond’s prized possessions,” Pearl chided, tilting her monochrome head. “You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

Blue was weeping.

Sobbing.

She could hear it through the doors.

Could feel it in the hollow bones of her armor.

“Please, Blue Diamond! Spare me! I’ll do anything. I’ll—”

Yellow Diamond hurled her fist into the nearest wall, denting the flawless white quartz with the force of the blow.

“I apologize, Yellow Diamond. You are not permitted to go through.”

◆

The massacre lasted for three hours.

Three damn hours.

The screams.

Her cries.

Then silence, a heavy curtain descended upon an empty stage.

When Yellow was finally allowed to return to the chamber, Blue was on her knees, drowning in shards.

Her palms scraped against the ground, scraped against the fragments.

Lifeless.

They were.

She was.

“Blue,” she whispered but could not bring herself to move.

For the fragmented gems cried out.

They cried murder.

“Oh, Sunlight,” White Diamond smiled widely from her perch, “you just missed the most wonderful time! Isn't that right, Blue?”

They cried Shatterer.

[echoeternally]

Fanfic Gift! (Pokemon): Rivalry Renewed

Boy oh boy, this is super duper overdue! It’s totally not.

This was meant to be a holiday season gift for my friend, @starlys, but it got delayed because, shockingly, the holidays were a really busy time for me.

Anyway! This is a thank you, because it’s for someone that listens to my incessant rambling over odd amounts of topics usually Fire Emblem, and keeping up a long running conversation about several things.

It’s also an excuse to write something with lesbians cute things.

Anyway! A fanfic below for you and anyone else looking to read. Please enjoy!

Home in Hoenn once again, and yet I’m still wandering around. Maybe I should head back to the house for a visit, but sometimes it’s good to get out and about.

 There’s nothing quite as soothing as a trip through Route 117, at least for me. Verdanturf Town is just beyond it, but it can feel like you’re walking on eggshells there. Mauville City is exciting and full of life, but gets overcrowded and a break is always refreshing. The route between them is a calming place for the environment and raising your team, but it’s also a place for battles too.

 The stuffiness of the city is gone, the air is crisp, and the vibrant plant life just feels so refreshing out in the open. But even still, I can see trainers strolling around, spotting one another, and tossing Pokemon out, ready to go at it.

 While I’m making my way through though, I spot the Daycare Man standing outside of his fence. Raising an eyebrow, I wander over to him.

 “Ah, hello there, trainer!”

 “Hi sir.”

 “Wait, hold on a moment…you’re Terra, right?”

 “That’s me.” I brushed a loose strand of blue hair back behind my ear. “Is something the matter?”

 “Oh, no. Your Gallade is doing just fine.”

 Wait, I left Gallade here?

 “That’s who you were checking on, right, dear?”

 The elderly man must spot my widened eyes and my slight step back.

 “Uh…yeah! Glad that he’s faring well.” I force a grin as I tug on my fingerless glove. “But, um, was that all you’re here for? Normally, you stand further from your fence when you have an Egg.”

 “Of course. But you only left one Pokemon with us.”

 “Right, but I’m not your only patron, am I?”

 “No, far from it, of course.”

 “…So…?”

 “It’s nothing you need concern yourself with, dear.”

 “Ooh, picking up an Egg, Terra?”

 My skin crawls as a shudder slides down my body. I spin around to find her standing behind me, a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip. Her ruffled aqua camisole flows in a gentle breeze, and her purple tassel purse dangles against her shapely blue skinny jeans.

 “Marina!” A more natural grin hits my face. “Haven’t seen you in ages! Are you back from traveling around Kanto and Johto?”

 “Nah, just taking a break for a few days.” She folds her arms and raises an eyebrow at me, her brown hair swaying as she shifts her posture. “And you? I thought you were adventuring through Unova.”

 “My trip got interrupted there.” I shrugged. “Some weird group was making a lot of noise about people needing to release their Pokemon for their own good or some nonsense.”

 “Huh. Weird.”

 “Yeah, and then there were wicked crazy wind and thunderstorms that broke out around the region, so I stopped my time there.” I smiled and tugged a photo from my bag. “But, check this out.”

 “Is that Alola?!”

 “Yep!”

 “Ooh, I’m so jealous!” Marina purses her lips and puffs out a cheek. “I’m dying to go to there.”

 “Well, I wasn’t able to stay there for very long either.” I tug on my ponytail. “Mom called about needing me back in Littleroot, so I made my way back here.”

 “What? That stinks!” She scoops up my hands and gazes into my eyes. “You just have to get back to Alola!”

 “Uh, well…they’ve got that new Pokemon League that they’re still working on, I think.” I fold my hands behind my back. “Once it’s running, I’ve got to challenge whoever becomes Champion.”

 “You and your battles.” Marina shrugs. “Maybe just enjoy the location itself some, huh?”

 “Sure, yeah.” I poke at her shoulder lightly. “Just make like you, strip down to that bright blue bikini and swim around like nothing else matters?”

 “Hey, if that does it for you too, go for it!” She grins brightly and I want to melt. “After all, you’re mostly there already, walking around in the crop top and shorts.”

 “Take that back!” I punch a fist into my palm as she giggles. “This is to make exercising easy!”

 “Totally.”

 “I’m serious!”

 A rough throat clearing comes from the elderly man, and we twist around. The old Day Care Man shoots me an inquisitive look and my face burns as I rub behind my head.

 “Sorry, um…we’ve been friends since we were kids and haven’t seen each other in a while.”

 “Yes, I was being treated to your current events and travels, it seems.”

 “Actually, now that you’ve cut in,” interrupts Marina, “how is my Cloyster doing?”

 “He seems well enough.”

 “Good to hear.” Marina tilts her head at me. “So? Grabbing an Egg?”

 “No, I’ve only got one Pokemon in here.” I twist back to the Day Care Man. “Which reminds me! What were you doing out here, sir?”

 Sighing, the old man runs his hand through his beard. Marina and I trade confused glances before turning back to him.

 “Well, I was actually standing out here to deliver an Egg, as I normally do for the visiting trainers,” explained the Day Care Man. “However, you two have just missed the trainer that came by.”

 “Aw, boo.” Marina pouts again. “So, the Egg was already picked up.”

 “On the contrary…” The elderly man produces as Egg from behind his back. “He decided to leave this one behind.”

 “Wait, what?”

 “What the hell?!” I lift a fist and can practically feel my blood broiling. “What kind of a trainer leaves an Egg behind?!”

 “Supposedly, he mentioned something about not needing to carry around so many while, how did he put it…?” The old man snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes, ‘perfect stat and shiny breeding,’ if I have that correct.”

 “…But why wouldn’t he take the Egg?” Marina folds her arms. “Taking more means better odds!”

 “The last few were ‘duds,’ in his words,” continued the old man. “And he stated that ‘breeding for this wasn’t worth the trouble,’ taking his Pokemon with him and not the Egg.”

 “That’s disgusting!” I kicked a pebble off flying and spun back around. “So what are you going to do with the Egg?!”

 “Give it to a trainer who does want it, I suppose.”

 “Ok, pass it over, then.” Marina tugs at her purse and shifts her weight. “I’ll take the little critter.”

 “No way!” I jump up between them. “If anything, I’m taking this little baby!” I glare and focus on the Egg. “Then, when this little one is all grown and toughened up, I’m finding that trainer and beating him with this Pokemon to make him sorry for leaving the baby behind!”

 “This isn’t that uncommon of a story—”

 “Zip it, old man!” I spiral back to Marina. “You’ll just play around with Pokemon, but they deserve a journey of strength and vengence!”

 “Or…maybe the baby just needs love?” Marina rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Terra, not everything needs to be about battling.”

 “Battling is everything!” I snatch a Poke Ball from my bag and raise it up. “In fact, I’ll battle you for this Egg!”

 “That really doesn’t make any—”

 “Just come on! Let’s go, here and now!”

 “…I guess I do need to keep up with training.” She shrugs and plucks a Poke Ball from her bag. “Just because we’re best at swimming doesn’t mean we can’t hold our own, you know.”

 “Do I have any say in this?” The elderly man shrank back.

 “No!” I wasn’t expecting to hear Marina in unison with me, but there we go.

 “Oh. Ok…”

 “So then.” Marina strides away from me, with a smirk as she struts across the path to face me. “Full team battle with one-on-one matches? Everyone gets a chance at battle, and no one gets reused.”

 “Yeah!” I pause and rub my arm. “…Uh, actually, I’ve only got three Pokemon with me right now, so…does that work?”

 “Fortunately for you, that’s all I’ve got too.”

 “Really? That’s perfect!”

 “As a matter of fact, I was specifically raising my newer Pokemon.”

 “What? Me too! That’s crazy!”

 “Seems like it, but I also have an old friend with me, of course.” She grins, and my face sours.

 “Your starter, right?”

 “Naturally.” Her beam broadens and she raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess…you did the same?”

 “Well, duh, I never let my starter leave my side.” I shrug. “Starters are your best friends from day one.”

 “Terra, how could you? I’m so hurt.”

 “Oh, shut up.” She laughs at my deadpan response. “Besides, those other Littleroot kids are notorious for carrying their starters at all times, so we might as well do the same with what Birch gave us.”

 “Ah, May and Brendan.” Marina folds her arms behind her back. “Those two are always the superstars of Littleroot, and people forget that other trainers even exist from there.”

 “It helps when one of them is Birch’s kid, and the other is the Champion of the region.” I roll my eyes. “Because those are the only ones that ever matter, of course.”

 “Sounds like we’re still plenty jealous of them.” Marina chuckles. “Maybe we should be hunting them down to compete instead.”

 “Probably, yeah.”

 “Ooh, we could do it as a team too!”

 “Uh, really?”

 “Sure…” Marina winks. “If you think you can keep up, that is.”

 “Argh!” I slam my fists together. “Enough talk! Time to battle!”

 Lobbing my Poke Ball out, it soars through the air as it bursts open. My Mienshao spirals out as she lands gracefully on the ground.

 “That’s the Unova Pokemon, right?”

 “Yep!”

 “Ok then…” Marina tosses her Poke Ball skyward. “Let’s go!”

 From the ball, a manta ray looking Pokemon flies out and flaps across the sky, floating down lower toward the ground. I step back and grit my teeth.

 “Terra, did you really think that I wouldn’t have a Pokemon that counters your favorite Type?”

 “Well…I was hoping…”

 “Clearly misguided hopes.” Marina smirks. “Mantine is going to absolutely wipe the floor with your Pokemon. And she doesn’t even specialize in attacking.”

 “That’s…that’s so not going to fly.”

 “As you can see, she clearly does—”

 “Hey, hey!” I stomp the ground. “You know what I mean!”

 “Yeah, but it’s cute to see you get mad.” My face burns while Marina laughs. “Come on, show us what you can do!”

 “With pleasure!” I point my hand forward. “Mienshao, use Bounce!”

 Nodding, my Pokemon leaps into the air and rockets away, somewhere above the clouds. Marina and her Mantine watch, though they don’t really seem unnerved.

 “Huh. I guess my attack misses then.” Marina shrugged. “Mantine, use Air Slash.”

 Rather than just letting the attack gust out anywhere, Mantine flaps and sends a wave of air past me. My hair flies up and I yelp as the gust fires past me.

 “What was that?!”

 “Sorry, but she wanted a good look at your face.” Marina grins as Mantine rolls her eyes. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re flustered too, so that’s double funny bonus points for sure.”

 “Ugh!” My cheeks are on fire, but I jab my hand out again. “Mienshao, slam down with Bounce already!”

 Plummeting from the sky above, Mienshao flies down, slamming on top of Mantine, and bouncing right off of her.

 She flips away with her kick and skids back across the ground, as Mantine crashes down.

 “Ha! Nice work!” Mienshao grins to me and I flash her a smile back. “How’s that one, Marina?”

 “You do realize your Pokemon is grounded again, right?”

 “…Uh…”

 Crap.

 “Mantine, Air Slash.”

 Flapping her fins again, Mantine unleashes a heavy burst of wind.

 Mienshao barely has time to flinch as the air blade slashes into her, knocking her back into the sky before crashing back down.

 “Hang in there, Mienshao!”

 Somehow, my Martial Arts Pokemon pushes herself back up from the floor, clearly winded, but still ready to battle again.

 “There we go!”

 Brushing her whiskers with her sleeve, Mienshao nods to me again.

 Time to mount a real comeback here.

 “Mienshao, let’s use Reversal!”

 Blue and yellow waves of energy encircle Mienshao, as she leaps forward. Pulling back her arms, the energy is channeled there and she strikes, slamming them down.

 Mantine winces as the sleeves from Mienshao’s fur smash her back to the ground. She groans and pushes against the floor as Mienshao darts back to my side.

 “Yeah! That’s how you do it!” I pump a fist and Mienshao mimics me. “See that, Marina? We can turn the battle around just like that!”

 “Very cute, Terra.”

 Uh-oh. Why isn’t she more annoyed? Why is she undeterred? Why, why, why?

 “You do realize that it’s over now, right?”

 “No—”

 Her Mantine shoots back up from the ground and into the air again, smiling gently as it waves across like a kite.

 “…Son of a—”

 “Mantine, finish this with Air Slash!”

 Once more, Mantine flaps her fins. Mienshao jolts back as the air blade rips across the sky again.

 “Look out!”

 Though Mienshao does her best to slip away from the brunt of the attack, it still connects and knocks her off her feet.

 Spiraling around and crashing down from the air, Mienshao slides back past me and I grit my teeth as her head falls back. She’s done.

 “You did your best, Mienshao.” I pull out her Poke Ball and recall her.

 “Great work, Mantine!” Marina gives her Pokemon a hug and I grumble as they do. “You get a rest for now, and I’ll get you some treats for later.”

 She recalls her Pokemon and that ends our first bout. Wiping back some of her hair, Marina folds her arms as she gazes at me.

 “Aw, Terra, don’t be so sad.” She shakes her head. “That’s definitely not a good look on you.”

 “Quiet you!” I grab my next Poke Ball. “Let’s just keep this going.”

 “Ok, fine, I can give you one.”

 Marina tosses out another ball, and a white sea lion pops out of it. She flops down to the ground and her tail sways elegantly.

 “Meet Dewgong,” introuded Marina. “She’s part Ice, so I’m sure you can counter that.”

 Narrowing my eyes, I lob my ball out. From it, my big bear, Bewear, slams down from the air. She stretches and gazes down at the Dewgong, who…well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d wager she went pale.

 “…Wait, what kind of—?”

 “Her name is Bewear, and that’ll be all your Dewgong gets to know.” I point forward at Marina’s Pokemon. Next, I pound my fist into my palm. “Bewear, use Hammer Arm and smash her to the center of the earth!”

 “Whoa, what?!” Marina points her hand forward. “Ice Beam, quick!”

 A little, light blue ball forms on her Dewgong’s horn. The beam of ice power rockets out and connects with Bewear, who blocks the better part of the hit with her arm.

 Breaking off the ice chunks that form on her, Marina and her Dewgong stare with their mouths agape as my bear stretches.

 “Good job.” I grin and point ahead. “Hammer Arm, come on!”

 Cheering and launching forward, Bewear raises her arm high up. She brings it down over the poor Dewgong quickly.

 It smashes down and connects almost too easily, knocking Dewgong right into the ground.

 “Oh no, Dewgong!”

 Marina gasps and hurries over as my Bewear ambles away. Her sea lion is stuck in the dirt, not looking likely to get back up.

 “…Was that actually a one-hit wonder?” I pat Bewear’s back. “Nice work, girl!”

 Bewear lets out a happy growl as I recall her to her ball. She’s my best heavy hitter for sure.

 Gazing back over, I watch as Marina recalls her unconscious Dewgong and frown. I tug at my ponytail and she sighs as she rises from the ground.

 “Sorry, Marina.” I pick at my hair. “I…I kind of got carried away with that one.”

 “Eh, I did mean to give one to you.” She brushes back her hair and places a hand on her hip. “I just didn’t think it’d be that quick.”

 “Yeah…even I forget my Bewear’s strength sometimes.” The species is notorious for their lethal hugs…you’d think I’d remember just how powerful they could be, especially when excited.

 “Seems like it.” Marina plucks out her last Poke Ball. “Well then! It’s been fun, Terra, but it’s time for this to end.”

 “Wait, what? But we’re not done yet!”

 “The last match will be our starters facing off.”

 “…Oh.” I grab my last Poke Ball and frown at it. “…You know, type effectiveness isn’t everything!”

 “You still want to use that line, even after both of our battles were won by type effectiveness?”

 “Hey, I need to pretend I stand a little bit of a chance against your might.”

 “Aw, that’s cute.” She grins wickedly. “False hope still won’t help you.”

 My shoulders slump as I toss my Poke Ball out, and Marina lobs hers out as well.

 Blaziken bursts forth, and she lets the fire flow from her arms right away. Across from her though, Marina’s Swampert shakes her head and stretches.

 “You can just surrender if you want,” offers Marina.

 “Not a chance.” I grip my hand tightly.

 “Ok, if that’s how you want it.” Marina pats her Swampert’s back. “Ready, girl?”

 “We’re not going quietly.” I raise my first to Blaziken. “We’re at a disadvantage, but we won’t surrender. Are you ready?”

 Smirking, Blaziken nods to me and faces forward. She freezes and remains motionless for a moment.

 “…Um…I know, but we can still try…”

 Swampert turns and gawks, as Blaziken’s flames dissipate from her wrists. Both wait for a moment, and then Swampert cries out.

 “Swampy? What’s wrong, girl?”

 Crying out again, Swampert stumbles and hurries across the trail. Blaziken waits and then holds out her arms.

 Jumping into her, Swampert wraps her arms around Blaziken and sobs as she clasps tightly to her. Blaziken pats her head and holds her closely, nuzzling her head into Swampert’s.

 “…Wait, what?”

 “Oh my gosh, that’s so adorable!” Marina bounces and claps her hands together. “It’s been so long since they’ve been together, I forgot!”

 “Well, yeah.” I shrug. “We haven’t seen each other in a long time, so it’s been longer for the two of them.”

 “But they love each other so much!” Marina shakes her head. “And the first thing we were going to do for them to greet each other was battle?”

 “Honestly, I didn’t even think of that.”

 “Me neither!”

 “Then…yeah, I can forfeit here.” I walk forward and raise my hands. “I’m not going to make poor Blaziken get her butt kicked by her Swampy that she’s missed for so long.”

 “Aw, you’d give up just for them? That’s so adorable, Terra!” Marina giggles as she ambles over to us. “But I’m giving up too, so let’s just call it a draw. We each won one, and there’s no point in continuing.”

 “You’re right. Ok, tie it is.”

 We reach out with our hands and shake. I wink at Marina and she giggles again, her cheeks a bit rosy now.

 “So, what should we do about the Egg?” Marina raises an eyebrow at me. “That was the whole point of the battling, right?”

 “Oh, you’re right.” I twist around. “Hey, old man! Who do you think should have the Egg?”

 Marina and I blankly gaze at the old man, snoring against the fence of his day care. Groaning and facing the sky, I throw my hands up.

 “Excuse us, sir?” Marina walks over to him, bringing me over by my hand, as she taps the elderly day care man. “Hello?”

 “Hm? Huh? What?”

 “Uh…did…did you see any of our battling?”

 “…Wait, where are the Mienshao and Mantine?”

 “Their battle ended a while ago.”

 “It did?”

 “Oh boy.”

 “You didn’t see any of our battles?!” I smack my face and drag my hand down. “There was absolutely no point to any of this then!”

 “Training was good,” reasons Marina. “And our Pokemon got to meet up again.”

 “Don’t use your logic to sort that out.” I jab my finger at the old man. “Come on! Which of us can take your Egg?”

 “Ah, right. Well—”

 “Actually, how about we both take it?”

 Blinking, I turn to Marina. She smiles to me, and her thumb rubs over my hand.

 “But we’re busy traveling and doing other things.”

 “Swampert misses Blaziken a lot, and I’ve missed you a lot too, so…we could just try traveling together for a little while instead.”

 “You’d want to do that?”

 “Of course!” Marina grins. “It’s been ages since we did that! And maybe we’ll need to go separate ways again, but at least for the time being…why not?”

 “That sounds like a good idea,” chimes in the old man, and he holds up the Egg. “If it goes to both of you, then I’m sure this little one will do wonders.”

 “Wow, um…thank you, sir.” I take the Egg from him and hold it close between Marina and myself.

 “You’re welcome. And congratulations to the happy couple!”

 “Wait, what?!” My face burns and I gawk at Marina, who snorts as she laughs.

 “Um, sir, we’re not—”

 “Actually, I was referring to your Pokemon over there.”

 He pointed as he strolled away from us, and we turned around. Blaziken and Swampert were cuddled close together, whispering and giggling gentle noises together. Marina and I raise our eyebrows and shrug at one another.

 “Guess we’re going to keep them out for the time being.”

 “Duh.”

 “Oh, hush up.”

 “They say that Pokemon tend to reflect their trainer’s intentions,” calls the day care man. “Usually, the longer they’ve been together, the closer these reflections are.”

 “Are you still here?!” I point at his house. “Get back to your wife, old man!”

 “I’m going, I’m going.”

 Marina laughs as she rests her hand on my shoulder, and I grumble as I turn back to her. Our faces are equally red.

 A week passes after that day, and our Egg hatches, with a Poliwag coming from it. He’s a cute little guy, but Marina and I have no idea how we want to raise him, nor who should hold ownership over him.

 But we’re still traveling around Hoenn for now, so that’s a problem for another day. Besides, I think he’s happy having two moms anyway.

Yaaaay, entertaining implications!

It features stuff @starlys likes, namely two trainers that fall in love, and two Pokemon that make a cute couple based on the evolutions of another duo.

Oh, and Bewear, because she’s cute too.

Anyway, it was a fun write up. I also tried including atypical trainer selections, but based them on Pokemon trainers like the players.

You know how, at least in the ORAS games but probably in multiple installments, you can pick a different trainer class that represents you in online modes and the like? That’s more or less what this is like. And kind of addresses player characters against who their canon counterparts end up being, which I thought was an interesting concept.

Anyway, it namely features these trainers:

Gal pals.

But I was like, “What kind of loony lady would walk around in just a bikini while walking through mountains, volcanoes, and forests?” Don’t raise your hands like you would, that stuff would hurt your poor feet.

So, I instead stole borrowed one of Serena’s outfits from the artwork and X/Y games for the Swimmer gal’s outfit:

Stylish.

So, yeah! Some fun trivia for the trainers in the stories. Pretty sure everyone else knows about the Pokemon. I know @starlys likes Bewear, but the rest were kind of just, “What Pokemon suits these trainers?”

Plus, the Poliwag can evolve into Poliwrath and represents the two of them coming together as one and their Poke-child inheriting both sides of his moms.

Anyway! That’s pretty much it. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!