#alone) i think he should get at least this from him. play a harmless piss prank on him like haha you peed on me when you didnt have to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

p---ink · 4 years ago

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What’s On Your Mind?

Author’s Note: Hi :) Remember me? I’ve missed you guys, and Tumblr altogether. I felt absolutely guilty about not writing, but the writer’s block was strong on this one guys. And while I’ve had lots of ideas for stories I couldn't quite put them onto paper...or screen. Anyway, wanted to try something new. So this one is about a Thor! I dedicate this one to you @swaggysposts since I know you love Chris Hemsworth. Its pretty short, but still, tell me what you think, my love!

Summary: Avenger reader has a crush on the god of thunder.

Warnings: some lite language and fluff.

Word Count: 4.7k

Part Two Part Three

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right? You said you can what?” Mr. Stark asked, without a doubt forgetting that there were stranger things in the world.

Clearing my voice, and speaking a bit louder I say, “I can read minds, sir.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Stark voiced out loud placing a sleek pair of sunglasses on his face. He was still pretty skeptical of my claims, but another part of him was very anxious. Or would the word be embarrassed? Mortified? Yes that was definitely the perfect description.

Whatever the feeling was, I knew the cause was because he knew that if what I was saying was true, he would have to start groveling because of the dirty thoughts that raced through his mind when we first introduced ourselves.

‘Forgive me for looking Pepper, but this girl has the ass of a professional volleyball player’ was what he thought as he opened the door for me on the way in.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking though, because It only works through touch.” I lie, as I watch his worry fade away. I needed this job, and I couldn’t be disqualified because of harmless thoughts that we could all be guilty of sometimes. Besides it wasn’t Tony’s fault: these jeans did do wonders for my bottom.

Something told me though, that if this Pepper weren’t in the picture, he’d have no problem saying what he thought of me out loud. And he was a handsome man, couldn’t be much older than 40, so maybe in another universe I’d consider him. Not this one though.

“Hey Kid,” Stark started, interrupting my own inappropriate thoughts, “just saying ‘I can read minds’, wont be enough. You’ll have to prove it.”

“Of course! Sorry—” I was cut short by the sound of the thick glass doors of the conference room being slammed against the walls.

A brown haired boy with deep chestnut eyes, that looked as frantic as the rest of his face, rushed out apology after apology as he took his seat next to the older man.

Tony, who hadn’t spared the younger boy a glance, said, “Ah, perfect. Tell me what he’s thinking.”

‘Spiderling’ was the name he had assigned him through thought. As I concentrated on his confused features, he looked from me to Stark.

“What who’s thinking? Is Dad—I mean Mr. Stark, referring to me? How could she possibly do that? Oh God, he hasn’t said a word to me since I got here. He must be really upset because I’m late. Geez, I hope he doesn’t take Karen again. I’d rather he kill me.” I repeated, after relaying all of the boy’s thoughts as fast as he could think them.

“Is she right?” Tony asked the boy. He felt both amazed and amused. Amazed with me, and amused by Spiderling for thinking of him as a dad. He would never let him live that one down.

After swallowing his astonishment, and turning his attention from me, Spiderling answered “Yes.”

“Good. And at least we both agree on your punishment. I’d rather kill you, too. Saves me less trouble in the future.” Tony stated. He was punishing him because apparently this was the third time he’s been late to the interviews he was supposed to be in charge of.

Spiderling let alarm overtake his features, but before he could say anything, Tony continued on with more questions.

“Do you have any other skills, we should know about?”

“Well just a bit of hand to hand combat. But it still needs a lot of work. Other than that no—”

“How did this happen?” Spiderling interrupted, wonder getting the best of him.

“Kid,” Tony starts, but he goes ignored by Spiderling.

“Were you bitten by some kind of radioactive insect like me? Or are you super smart like Mr. Stark? Or perhaps it was gamma radiation like Dr. Banner! Or maybe a super serum like Mr. Rogers!—”

“Don’t make me remove your batteries, junior!” Tony interrupted, then he looked to me. “I’m sorry. He’ll keep going if you don’t nip it in the bud early.”

But he didn’t have to tell me that. His own mind, like Spiderling’s, was racing a mile a minute.

“No its fine really. He’s just curious.” I reply with a chuckle. “And to answer your question Spiderling: maybe I was born with it, or maybe its Maybeline.”

I began to grow embarrassed by their silence at my terrible joke, until Spiderling stifled a chuckle. “I get it!” He said between snickers. “Wait why’d you call me Spiderling?” He asked. ‘Is she picking on me?’ He thought.

Needing to correct his thoughts to clear up any offense I say, “No! I would never pick on you, I just thought that was your name because Mr.—”

“Y/N, was it?” Tony interrupts, yet again. “I think you’d make an excellent addition to our team! When can you start?”

“Really?” I ask gleaming, ignoring the fact that he wanted me to shut for outing what he really thought of his younger protégé. “I can start right away! Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He hurried. “F.R.I.DAY, will prepare your room, and Peter here will show you around.”

At that Peter hopped to his feet mind racing with thoughts of excitement on the hopes of a future friendship. “Follow me!” He said, grabbing my hand.

“Not so fast, champ. I need to speak with Ms. L/N alone for a moment.” Tony stated, nodding at Peter as he excused himself from the room.

Tony cleared his throat, and relayed his thoughts, thoughts that were hard to separate from Peter’s louder ones earlier. “So Y/N,” He started towards me, leaning in close as he chose his words carefully. “I couldn’t help but notice, that you didn’t need to touch Parker nor I to read our thoughts. Care to explain?”

Flustered at being caught I stumble across my words as I try to explain, “Ah yes, well its rare, but sometimes I don’t need to touch the person.”

“Mmm.” Tony hummed, not believing a word I said, and I knew then the gig was up.

Cocking my head, and wearing a semi-sympathetic expression I say, “Don’t worry. I don’t even know who Pepper is.”

And before Stark could protest, I ran to Peter’s side, so we could begin the tour around my new home.

That was all a little over eight months ago. And so much had changed now. Peter’s hopes became true. We were the best of friends. His boy-like charm never grew old to me, and nor did my gifts to him.

“Cerulean” I’d say, when he’d think things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’. He always thought questions like that as a sort of game. I never got tired of playing along.

It seemed to never click in his mind though that he could never scare or surprise me when he hid behind corners or couches, because I could hear his thoughts before he got the chance to.

But besides the little stunts he’d try to pull by hiding his thoughts in order to frighten me, Peter was as transparent as they were. The boy was an open book, and he rarely kept a secret. It made us perfect friends, because he never seemed to get tired of me knowing every single detail about him.

Though the other avengers treated me like family, Peter seemed to be the only one welcoming of my “gift”.

If you asked Steve, he’d think something along the lines of “I’m too old for this shit” when I’d answer questions he hadn’t had the chance to ask. Then he’d immediately curse himself, for thinking a swear word when I’d tease him with one of the team’s inside jokes, like “language.”

Bucky tried his hardest to keep his thoughts in a vault, but it never worked. I knew exactly how many dead bodies he had under his belt, and where he kept his hidden stash of plums.

Natasha, however, never tried to hide her kill count. She always made it a point to up the number by one as a threat to me, every time I accidentally crept inside her head. I always made it a point to keep my distance whenever she was deep in reflection.

Banner was interesting. His mind had two voices of course, and neither one of them gave a shit about whether I heard them or not. There were the deep thoughts that I struggled to understand most of the time, then others were one-word sentences only. They were louder than the rational side of his brain.

“La, la, la, la, la”, was literally all that Sam would think whenever there was something he wanted to hide. Sometimes he’d do it just to piss me off, because he knew if I said to ‘knock it off’, he could accuse me of evading his thoughts in the first place.

In truth, I never tried to read what they were thinking. I found the process invasive, and distracting from my own feelings. I worked hard to shut it all out, doing my best to make truth of that lie I told Stark all those months ago. But it was very draining, and took more energy than my body could exert. One person was easy enough to ignore, but more than ten, proved to be a task.

Most of my entire life I spent working in order to shut out all of the world around me. I avoided crowds whenever I could, blasted my music through my headphones whenever I couldn’t, and made sure to drug my body heavily with painkillers and vitamins whenever the last two weren’t options.

It was so much work just to go out into the world. So much work until I met him.

The son of Odin was the only person whose thoughts I would pay to hear. Coincidentally, he was also the only person who’s thoughts I couldn’t read. I could never hear him, I would only ever feel him. He radiated a rare intensity I had never felt before. His thoughts, or should I say feelings, even managed to drown out all of those around him. I had no choice but to focus on him whenever he was around.

When I was with him, he literally clouded my brain. I didn’t have to work to shut him or the others out. He did it for me.

I usually thought that was refreshing. But in the time I grew to know him, I found it mostly frustrating at times.

You could say I liked him, but that would be putting it lightly.

Liking someone for me, was a rare luxury. My crushes were always narrowed down to celebrities, and other people who didn’t know I existed.

It was a pain to date people whose thoughts about you were always on display.

And if you thought dating was hard as a telepath, try having sex. Imagine being able to hear all of your partner’s most inner thoughts about the faces you make when you cum, or discovering that you have a small birthmark on your ass that you would otherwise know nothing about.

Yeah, it wasn’t the greatest experience.

I had never experienced the actual joys of feelings for someone, and wondering if they liked me back. Thor was my first. And chances are, he would never feel the same way.

He was a literal god, and he lived up to that fact. I was just an average Midgardian, with a silly school-girl crush. It would never happen.

Silly thing that Fate was. She had to make the only man I found irresistible, unattainable too. What a bitch.

“Hey. Are you ready?” Natasha asked referring to our daily training.

“Yes, what’s on the agenda today?” I ask, a bit confused that she isn’t in her workout attire.

“Well you’ll h–”

“What? Why?” I squeak, before she can finish her thought…well before she can finish her sentence. According to her thoughts, I’d now be training with Odinson.

“I think you’ve graduated from me, kiddo. You can read my thoughts fast enough to predict as well as react to all of my oncoming moves.” Natasha relayed, a hint of sadness detectable through her words. Though she behaved like an older sister to me, she would miss throwing me around on the mat. “We’ll have to see how you do against someone whose actions you can’t predict, just in case that problem comes up out in the field.” She informed me while walking away, before I could confront her.

“Can’t it be someone else?” I yell to her, but she doesn’t answer.

“You wound me, Y/N.” That deep familiar voice bellowed from behind me. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company.”

Oh you have no idea, I thought to myself, as I spun on my feet to face him. I craned my neck to peer up at his eyes. One was a pretty hazel, while the other a deep blue. Cerulean. Funny how he’s the reason I’ve grown so fond of the color after all of these months.

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I just don’t think its fair is all. You know? With you being a god.”

“You’re worried you won’t be able to handle me? Do not fret. I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than you could handle.” He said, wiggling his brows suggestively, while flashing a smile. I suppose I failed to mention that he was a massive flirt that could put even Tony Stark to shame. “I promise to take it easy on you.” He furthered, smirking and winking his hazel orb.

“Why do I feel like your idea of taking it easy is vastly different from mine.” I say, trying to settle the butterflies.

“Whatever you’ve heard about me is nonsense. I’m a merciful master.” He assured. “We’ll just do some light work today: of course we’ll start with stretching, then 30 laps around the facility to build your stamina, a few hours of work on the machines to build your muscle—because my lady you are a dainty little thing, and then we’ll end the day with an hour or two of sparring.”

At the sight of my dumbstruck face, Thor says, “I’m sorry that must be too light. How does 50 laps and three hours of sparring, sound?”

“Are you joking?”

“You’re right. I have some matters to attend to on Asgard, but I think we can squeeze in 75 laps, take it or leave it.”

Realizing how deathly serious he was, I quickly say, “I’ll leave it. Let’s get started.” Deciding to address the subject of excessive training later, I turn to begin my stretches.

Quiet. As usual. I was alone with my thoughts, which was something that only happened quite literally when I was alone. I couldn’t help but be immensely aware of his presence.

Moments like these i’d die to know what he was thinking. Especially when I could feel his stare. It burned worse than fire on my skin.

Fire couldn’t compare to his actual touch, however. The same touch I now felt on my upper back. For a man who weighed over 600 pounds, he was as stealthy as a cat when he wanted to be. His thick fingers against my spine raised goosebumps to my flesh. I would have jumped out of my body if he wasn’t there to keep me grounded.

“My apologies. It was not my intention to startle you.” He informed, through a deep hearty chuckle. “I just needed to correct your form. Your time on the field will suffer if you continue with your training like this.”

“Oh.” I replied, tensing a bit as one of his hands traveled around to my stomach and the other pushed against my spine to straighten my posture. My mind was hazy, and if I had even understood the words he spewed a moment ago, that status now changed.

“It all makes me wonder what the Lady Spider has been teaching you.” He continued, as if he didn’t notice the change in my demeanor. “Better.”

When he stepped away from me, I released a small shaky breath. “What’s on your mind?” He asked. Maybe he did notice the change.

I mentally decided that I would ask him the months-long question I had always wondered about. “What’s on yours.” I state instead of ask, trying to resume my stretches.

“Pardon?” Thor asked. “Do you wonder about what is I ponder? Or is that your answer?

“Both.” I say without hesitation. “Why can’t I read your mind?”

“I’m afraid that’s by design, my lady.”

I stop stretching and turn around to ask, “How?” He had my full attention now.

Shortly after he corrected my posture, Thor had propped himself up against one of the machines to properly examine my form while I stretched. I tried to ignore how awkward that made me feel.

“Since an early age I’ve had to learn to guard my thoughts.” He stated. “My brother is the God of Mischief, and Loki often played games of the mind. Mother took notice of how much it was ailing me, and taught me a few useful tricks on how to keep him out. I guess I’ve always practiced them, even in his absence. I don’t know if I even know how to stop it.”

“Oh.” I breathed out. Trying to make sense of his words.

While I was doing that, he asked,“May I ask why it is you wish to know? I thought you hated your gift.”

“I do. But I guess it still feels odd to not be able to use it on someone. I have no clue what you’re thinking let alone how you feel about me. It unsettles me.” I immediately regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out.

His reaction did not aid my embarrassment. A thunderous laugh erupted from his throat. It was the kind of laugh that you could feel in your abs, and I knew this because his whole torso shook as it spread through his vocal cords. He was genuinely amused.

His amusement prompted me to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“How I feel about you.” I think he mutter softly, before following a little louder to himself, “It’s weakened you.”

“What did you say?” I never had to ask someone to repeat themselves unironically, until I met him.

“Your ability I mean. It has impaired you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I think the word is ‘spoiled’. Yes that seems to be the perfect descriptor.” He teased.

His words made me feel small and silly. Almost insignificant. “Excuse me?”

Sensing my irritation, he quickly told me, “I meant no disrespect. Its just most of your kind and some of mine are not awarded the same privileges that you have. We rely on body language and hidden meanings behind words to determine how someone feels. Well with the exception of me of course, because who would not adore me?” He joked. “But that’s beside the point. You have not yet learned how to read between the lines. Which is why I unsettle you.”

“I know how to read body language, I’m not an idiot.” I say a bit more sharply than I intended. My sense of inferiority getting the best of me.

“I’m not implying that you are, just that if it were not for your talent you would know have known what was on my mind ages ago.”

“That makes no sense. If I couldn’t read minds, i’d be in the same place I am now: unable to know what it is you think.”

“My dear, even if you could read my mind it would make no difference, for I’ve already made my feelings towards you painfully clear. One need not the aid of your capabilities.”

“Thor, could you stop the riddles—”

He ignored my pleas and kept going. “But just to be explicitly clear this time, since obviousness is lost on you—”

“Stop insulting—”

“I shall tell you how I feel about you.” He stepped and leaned in closer, as if what he was about to say was a secret meant for only my ears. “Listen closely because I will say this but once, so be wary not to misunderstand: I desire you.” He explained, words dripping with the utmost sincerity.

My brain started racing. And I suddenly realized just how close he was. “You desire me?” I repeated to myself.

“Yes. I desire you.” He stated again, anticipating my uncertainty.

If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. My poor ribcage wasn’t built for this.

“A-A-as a friend right?” I stutter out. “Because we aren’t, we aren’t close, like the rest of the team? Yes,” I breathe out. “That has to be what you mean.” I say that last part more to myself than to him. Clearly I’ve misunderstood his words, even though he warned me not to.

“While I would value a companionship, I’m afraid that is not all I mean when I say I desire you.”

“Eerr” Words are hard to form all of the sudden. Stammering out sounds is all that I can do.

The air around us stilled, and it was pregnant with silence. He gave me a moment to think before asking, “Would you like further explanation.”

“Yes please.” I rush out quickly. “I think that will clear things up a bit more.”

“Right it would. Well If you wish to know what’s on my brain when you’re near, I shall tell you.” His words are teasingly slow, and he knows this.

"But I doubt,” He continues, “i’ll be able to properly convey just how bad I long to be in your presence when you are gone. Just how much I battle myself when it comes to finding any excuse to touch you. As you know, I lost one of those battles today. I don’t know if you can handle, just how much I imagine your warm embrace to be. How tender I’ve imagined your lips to feel. I just know them to be softer than rose petals and sweeter than nectar.”

“In fact,” He started. I could almost physically see the lightbulb go off over his head. And then, he began ridding us of the rest of our space, extending his long arm to snake around my waist, and pulling me against his chest at a speed faster than lighting. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put that theory to test.”

It was like a lucid dream. I was only allowed to watch everything play out before me, without the luxury of making any actions myself. It took great focus on my part to even will my head to move. My nod was so subtle I was unsure if he could even see it. But the God of Thunder had more than enough to go off on.

He joined the hand around my waist with his other, and shortly after I could feel my feet rise from the ground. My hands that were previously glued to his chest, found their place behind his neck to support the rest of my body. His head met me the rest of the way, before he blanketed his lips over mine.

He released one of the hands around my waist, to bring it up to my face. His fingers, now fastened to my jaw, slightly parted my lips allowing him to further explore my mouth with his. As massaged my tongue with his own, I could feel his eyelashes dance across my cheeks. That’s how close he was.

Most beards are scratchy and rough, but his felt like silk against my skin. His lips were even softer, and were like velvet in comparison.

I inhaled the scent of rain on freshly cut grass. It reminded me of dewy meadows and Irish springs. His touch was firm, but he managed to hold me with care, like a bull who had trained for years with the sole purpose of entering a china shop.

He tasted like what summer felt like, if you could make sense of it. The kiss had the same intensity behind severe thunderstorms. Beautiful but deadly. I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff: desperate to chase this thrill, but also wary of whether or not it was worth dying for.

I mentally decided that I could expire in his arms, and be perfectly content with that decision.

I got more into it. I thought that if this was a dream I’d take full advantage of it. Surely dream Thor would be fine with me taking over the kiss. It felt only natural.

I decided it was time for my tongue to do the exploring. My lips needed to memorize the feel of his. My hands wanted to study every strand of hair that lived on the nape of his neck. That was only fair right?

I was enjoying his embrace so much, that I mistook the spinning in my head for shock from kissing a god, instead of the telltale signs of an impending headache. The lack of air in my lungs was because he took my breath away in a figurative sense, instead of the literal physical sense it actually was. The ache that spread throughout my body wasn’t because of the suffocating grip he had to keep me pressed to his chest, but because our bodies were on the brink of fusing into one.

On second thought, maybe dying in his arms is more painful than I previously thought.

I tapped out, and he immediately released me, placing me gently on the ground. I struggled for air, but it was like he didn’t miss a beat. Not a drop of sweat in sight on his gorgeous face. Instead, I could see a bright smile forming.

“Are my thoughts clear enough, now?” He asked, breaking out into smirk.

But I had no time to acknowledge his joke, for I could feel reality setting back in. And reality is, I was a flustered fuck.

“I’m sorry.” I stammered. “I must be holding you from your business on Asgard!”

“What? No—”

But he had no time to argue, for in a flash I was already gathering my gym bag and heading for the door.

“What about your training?” I heard him yell.

“I’m sorry! Maybe another time!” And after that, I practically sprinted to get out of earshot before he could protest or stop me.

I raced passed Peter who was on his way into the gym. “Y/N! Are you okay?” I heard him yell. But what was strange is that I couldn’t hear him think it, despite being more than enough distance away from Thor.

“I’m fine.” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Maybe Peter’s mouth was faster than his thoughts.

No. That wasn’t it, because as I raced through the tower, everyone’s minds were silent, even though they were chatting casually with one another. That never happened.

I burst through the nearest lady’s room, desperate to calm my nerves, when I saw Natasha applying red lipstick. The action by itself wasn’t disturbing, but the expression she wore was.

“Don’t tell the others.” She voiced, in a threatening tone.

“Don’t tell the others what?” I asked confused. Maybe she’d be able to take my mind off of things.

She looked at me like I had grown two heads, much like the first day we met when I proved that I could read her thoughts. “I know you read them. But this is different Y/N, the guys will never let me live this one down.”

“Nat, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the date.”

“You’re going on a date?” No wonder she was so panicked. The woman was more comfortable with killing than she was with being vulnerable.

“Yes—What is wrong with you?” She half-yelled, interrupting herself as if she just realized something was wrong.

I had, had enough with trying to not think about him, because the task was damn near impossible so I decided to just say it. “Thor admitted his feelings for me. And then we kissed!” I cried.

Oh, Nat mouthed, taking a more comfortable position against the bathroom sink. She leaned against its counter, and crossed her arms,“And now you can’t take your mind off of him.”

It was my turn to look at her like she was a lunatic. “How did you know that? Are you a mind-reader too?”

Song for the Chapter: Waiting For You by the Aces: Pretty Self-explanatory lyrics. Think of the song from Thor’s POV

part II

A/N: If you made it this far, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think :)

#thor #thor imagines #thor x reader #thor fluff #thor x black!reader #avenger reader #mcu imagines #black avenger reader #fluff #chris hemsworth #black!reader #black!writer #thor ragnorak

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saphirered · 3 years ago

Note

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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animeyanderelover · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!💖Could you do Sasuke with prompt 119?

Sure thing.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, threatening

Prompt 119: “Eyes on only me.”

You shuffled awkwardly around, trying to struggle free from the grip Suigetsu currently had on your hip. The flirty white-haired boy on the other hand gave you an amused grin, his pointy teeth shimmering dangerously in the sunlight. It made you swallow a growing lump in the back of your throat. You were a bit scared right now. Less of him, more of how Sasuke would react to all of this. You for sure knew that he wouldn't be pleased with this at all.

The quiet male had been these past few weeks busy enough with keeping the whole team away from you. Karin had obviously issues with you since Sasuke was in love, if you could call it that, with you, constantly nagging and complaining about you and that the team would be better without you. Jugo was, in your opinion at least, the most nice guy in here. He was more polite which made you like him the most, you also liked his ability to understand the language of animals. But you had witnessed that he was definitely not harmless, him having you nearly attacked once when losing control. If it wouldn't have been for Sasuke, you might have been hurt really badly.

And Suigetsu, well he was a huge flirt. It was hurt to tell which one of those guys Sasuke disliked the most, all of them were naturally threats for you. But Suigetsu was just a case for his own because he approached you for the reason to piss Sasuke off. He had been the first one who had met you from the members of the team and had quickly discovered who exactly you were. You weren't exactly unknown. In fact many people knew you simply because Sasuke had gone through a lot just to reassure to have you in his arms. And he had left quite the number of bodies behind, people who had wanted to protect you. Innocent people. It wasn't like he had cared about them nor when you had put up a fight in order to not be stripped off your freedom. But it hadn't helped you at all in the end.

You resented him a lot for everything he had done, but were too much of a coward to admit it to him. You were scared of him and his rage because you knew what he was capable of. Daring to defy him never ended well, a rule which you had been taught the first time you had tried. The same thing counted for his teammates on which he didn't have a problem to lash out as well. He did it more often these days anyways due to having to keep an eye on you. You just seemed to catch too much attention from the wrong people, Karin constantly trying to steal Sasuke's attention and Suigetsu constantly trying to flirt with you. You were truly impressed that Sasuke hadn't exploded yet. But you guessed if he planned on killing them, he would do it most likely after they had fulfilled their purpose.

Maybe that was the reason why he had demanded lately so much attention from you, always dragging you somewhere near him. He didn't like it when you spent time with the swordman who cracked one flirt after another, stepping into your private space, touching you in ways that he wasn't allowed to. Sasuke hated it in a completely other way than him getting annoyed with Karin for her clingyness and constant tries to talk you useless. But she at least never had this grin on her face when she was near you or let his hands linger near places they shouldn't be. The worst was still that Suigetsu was clearly showing that it was his intention to make Sasuke jealous, if you remembered right, he had told you once that he found it amusing to see the boy all agitated and boiling because he was jealous. But what he found amusing, terrified you and you couldn't help, but ask yourself if Suigetsu was either stupid or into pain because you were convinced that Sasuke wouldn't let this slide without giving that guy another harsh lesson.

But was he really ready to get into so much troubles just to tease Sasuke? Judging from the way he kept pulling you back whenever you tried to wriggle free, he was. And you had this feeling that your feelings wouldn't convince him either, he was only focused on his own fun. And if you were the toy that would allow him to have this fun, he wasn't really affected if you should get punished with him. Gosh, how you hated him.

"Come on. Stiffen up a bit. Sasuke isn't even here. You have no reason to be so nervous." You shot him quickly a short glare, trying to rip his arms off you. "That is why I try to get out of here! Because then there is the minimal chance that both of us won't get in troubles because of this! Sasuke can't get mad at something he didn't even know happened in the first place!", you snarled at him, digging your fingernails in the sjkin of his arms. Suigetsu seemed enragingly unbothered, sighing annoyed before tightening his grip a bit more. "You really are no fun, you know? You're boringly obedient."

"I'm not obedient! But different from you I'm sane enough to know and car that we might be be in huge troubles if Sasuke finds out! Are you just dumb or crazy to not realize just how bad this can end?!" It was really a bad joke of fate now that you were thinking about it. This was actually a time where you would have been thankful for Sasuke to be with you, but just now he had to finish something which was why he had left you alone in the first place. He couldn't be your babysitter all the time. Not like you wanted him to be in the first place.

"Oh, I see. So you're scared of getting hurt. What a coward you are.I don't really get why Sasuke likes you so much in the first place. But you know", he leaned closer to you, his face directly next to yours and lips only a few inches away from your ear,"that makes you all the more interesting for me. I just want to find out what Sasuke sees in you. And besides, you might not feel that way at all, but I find it so entertaining to see him getting all bothered up just because someone from us spends time with you or is even anywhere near you. It's refreshing to witness someone like him, who always tries to play the cool and collected guy, getting so worked up only because of one person. I thought he had no place in that dark heart of his, but here you are, being forced to be part of this team just because Sasuke here couldn't leave you. Isn't that just romantic?"

"Suigetsu! Let go! This is not the time for this! I don't care if you don't care what happens to you! But I do care what might happen to me!" You angrily tried to push him away, but your elbow was not met with his stomach, instead you felt your fabric getting soaked. Damn it! His ability was bothersome, to be able to transform his whole body into water. But what was currently pissing you off the most that he took none of this serious. He was seeing it as a game. "Someone is getting mad.", he chirped, petting your head in a way that was clearly meant to piss you off even more. "But what do you plan on doing against it, hmm?" He poked your cheek, making you twitch your eyebrow angered. "We both know that you won't be able to beat me."

"I will fight you if you don't get your hands off them. And we both know that you can't beat me." The sudden additional voice, an awfully familiar one, caught yours and Suigetsu's attention, both of you turning surprised and you a bit frightened around. There he was, standing only a few feet away from you two. That was crazy, neither you nor Suigetsu had sensed him. "Hey there Sasuke. I thought you would be gone for a bit longer. Why are you already back?" If he was right now nervous, scared or in any other way emotionally unbalanced, he was certainly good in hiding it. Because for you he appeared to be his usual caredree and easy-going self.

"I finished it quicker than expected.", Sasuke answered, eyes glued to Suigetsu's hands which were still around you. "Suigetsu..." He closed his eyes for a short moment before opening them again, you noticing with increasing heart speed that he had activated his Sharingan. "Let them go." There was hidden anger in his voice and the intense glare be was giving Suigetsu made you fear that the boy might just literally drop dead the next second. But he still didn't look like he cared or was afraid. Much more on the opposite. There was a small smirk plastered on his face, taking obvious pleasure in seeing Sasuke being so territorial over something. He wouldn't provoke him, would he?

"You're so mean Sasuke. I never get to spend much time with (y/n) because you constantly shoo me away from her.", he started whining. Wow, he really did just start provoking him. You didn't know if you should be amazed or worried about this amount of carelessness. It was a double-edged sword, you supposed. "I mean, I totally get why you don't allow Karin anywhere near them. She's just bitchy. But what did I do so wrong to lead you to not trusting me near them? I only want to get to know the little thing here a bit more. We're a team after all, aren't-"

He finally seemed to get back to bnormal senses the moment he had a lightning-channeled sword held right against his head. "I don't like repeating myself Suigetsu." his voice was still as cold as ever, but you and Suigetsu both picked up the wavering in it, the cold rage in it. "Let. Them. Go." You didn't even have to look at him, you could feel the furious and sinister aura surrounding him. You were worried what Suigetsu would do next.

He had gone quiet, looking like he was trying to judge whether he should continue pushing Sasuke a bit more for fun or retreat. For a few seconds it became quiet before you noticed Sasuke lifting his arm, realizing that he was about to swing. And Suigetsu was quick to notice it too, letting instantly go of you and raising his arms in defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll stop so please don't get mad. I wanted to only joke with them a bit. You should work on your sense of humor. Well, I guess I see you later then." With these words he started walking away, giving you a flirty wink before finally disappearing from your and Sasuke's view, the latter one watching him leaving with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

You were dumbfounded, staring speechless in the direction Suigetsu had headed. You didn't like him one bit, he was way too mischievious and self-centered, but he never ceased to stun you with his disrespectful and mocking way of acting around Sasuke. It was a miracle he wasn't dead yet Somewhere deep down you felt even a bit jealous, wishing you could be a little bit more carefree and not worringly like he was.

Sasuke glanced at you, noticing the way you stared impressed after Suigetsu, making a feeling bubbling up inside his stomach which he didn't like at all. "(y/n)." You turned a bit startled around to him, shrinking when you noticed his burning look, Sharingan still activated. "Eyes on only me." You tried to hide your surprised face, not having him expected to say something that sounded so obviously like he was jealous. You just gave him a short nod, feeling not couragous enough to speak up. "The next time I'll have to take care of something, you'll come with me. Understood?" You nodded again, knowing that saying 'no' wasn't an option.

"You shouldn't waste too much thoughts on him or someone else on this team anyways." He had stepped closer, bending a bit down to look you in your eyes since you had stated to make yourself closer. "After I don't need them anymore, I'll make sure that they will never bother me or you again." The look on his face told you he wasn't kidding.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere sasuke #yandere sasuke uchiha

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h4ji · 4 years ago

Text

─ YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE FOR ME

summary: atsumu is insecure and overthinks, you’re there to reassure him

warnings: insecurity, reassurance sex, slight marking/biting, creampie, AND NOT PROOFREAD

requested: no

wc: 1.42k

a/n: hope you enjoy ｡:°ஐ

in his head this seemed like a better plan. atsumu thought bringing you to this event would prove no problem, he could show you off and have some fun. however, he couldn’t have planned for the situation that plays out before him.

his eyes bore into the douche [in his opinion at least] trying to flirt his way with you. sneaky glances are thrown towards the guy, who seemingly gets closer to you. he swears his eyes have never rolled back farther than when he heard what this guy was saying. “you look so gorgeous”, “did you come alone?” and “i could accompany you”. the ice in atsumu’s drink was melting, it was melting fast, normally something so trivial wouldn’t bother him but it pissed him off to no end. “fucking hell”, he thinks, “i can’t wait to get out of here”.

his eyes grow dull as he continues watching your movements. atsumu’s patience runs thin, every small detail of this event infuriates him further and he thinks “why is this douche even here?”. the sight of you laughing and seemingly getting all buddy buddy with this man unnerves him to no end. how could this happen, how could you need another man to entertain you. this man’s arm inching closer to your own sets his ego aflame. did you not notice or were you just that oblivious. the night couldn’t seem to end any sooner.

the grasp on your wrist is tight, tighter than ever. “i can not believe ya were entertaining that fucking douche”, his usual nickname for you no where in sight. and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, it hurt more than it should have. “i was only being nice to him, tsumu. i don’t want to be rude” you scoff. “well it would not have been rude. you were obviously talking him up, you’re not that stupid, you knew what he was doing” he sternly says while walking off so that he wouldn’t say something that stung. “why are you walking away, we’re talking” you breathe out, with obvious frustration. “stop playin’ dumb with me, (l/n), we both know what he was doin’. and don’t pull this shit that “ya didn’t know”, ya clearly were appealing to this douche’s disgustin fuckin’ ego.” he spits out, the words scorching hot as he lashes out these cruel words. the pain in your chest evident when he looks at you with disgust, like you had just murdered his entire family. and at this point you didn’t know what to say: do you reassure him that your intentions are harmless? do you stay silent? do you try to appease him? what should you do?

atsumu doesn’t look back at you as he storms somewhere in the comfort of your home. his steps in the house oddly loud and echo against the creme colored walls. you decide against going after him.

the pain in your chest doesn’t seem to cease as hours go by. your mind races, a constant throbbing in your head as you think: what would happen to you both? would this be a make or break? would this prove to ruin your relationship. but then you remember, no tsumu wouldn’t do that…. right?

atsumu loves you, he truly does, but there’s a ringing in the back of his head that tells him that you don’t feel the same. would you leave him? would you find someone better? this questioning of himself stops him from going back to you and making up. as he loses himself in his thoughts he doesn’t hear you walk in. his eyes flutter between looking at the floor and looking into your eyes. and from his face alone, you could tell his insecurities were eating at him. you felt regretful, but at the same time you weren’t the only one at fault. but you couldn’t help but think, why didn’t he just tell you straight up… but who would?

“tsumu, listen to me, you’re the only one for m-“ and before you could even finish he presses his lips against yours. a hint of desperation and of course, lots of love.

“forget it, forget about what happened. i just need to know, i need to know you love me” he breaks out as his eyes turn glossy, tears welling up. your heart breaks at the broken person in front of you; was he wallowing in his insecurities alone? how come you didn’t notice. his hands grope at your body, seeking relief in affection and pleasure. and as you both undress, his eyes well up even more tears. “please let me love you” his voice cracks as he whines out.

your hands caress your lovers’ face with tenderness and you wipe his tears away. “if it helps, i can show you that you’re the only one for me ‘tsumu” you gently smile at him and all he can do is nod against your palm. his hands shake as he places them against yours in a kind manner before pulling you toward him again, he’s seeking validation in the kisses you’re willing to give.

he allows you to fiddle with his pants before pulling them down, along with his boxers, and his cock falls in line with your face. at this sight, he smiles. his large and thick cock make your face look small, and before he could lavish anymore in the lewd image portrayed to him, you take the head of his cock in your mouth. the silky skin embraced by your tongue and atsumu’s soft moan fill the empty space quickly. his breaths go ragged as his cock thrusts in and out of the narrow underpass of your throat. his cock twitches in your mouth, he pulls out once he realizes, determined to cum on your face. instinctively your eyes close and mouth open, waiting for the warm cum to be placed on your face. at your sudden eagerness, atsumu gets closer to his own release, his hand tightening around his own cock in order to see your face a mess with his cum, the lewd thought alone gets him hard again. then you feel it, the warm and sticky plastered all over your face and as you open your eyes, all you see is the blushy and happy face of your atsumu.

the fact that his cock was hard again amazes you, your eyes wide in admiration as atsumu wipes your face down (not without taking a mental image of what you look like). sooner then you know it, you’re sitting in atsumu’s lap, his hand caresses the expanse of your waist and he places a few kisses on your nose. and as you sink down on him and caress his face, he can’t help but be thankful for you, you were so good to him, even if there were a few bumps, you always took care of him, in more ways than one. he’s knocked out of his thoughts once he feels the way you tighten and writhe against him, it gives him a sense of relief. a sense of.....love even. “you’re the only one for me, baby. no one else can compare”, you state before intertwining your hands. your hips grind against his own, the subtle movement making him whine. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, even prompting to bite your shoulder when the rocking of your hips against his all proves to be too much.

the tightening of your walls, your warm and beautiful body in front of him, the scent of you around him, the red teeth marks on your shoulder glaring back at him, the slapping of skin, the subtle warmth around you both; it was all too much and sends him to overdrive. Without question he stuffs you full of his cum, he knew you wouldn’t mind, you never did. he rubs at your clit and he watches in amazement as you throw your head back in pleasure, your neck open for markings atsumu knew he’d have to leave before he was through with you. you cum around him, and he places kisses on the newly formed hickies he’s placed on your neck. his and your cum mixes as well as forms a ring at the base of his cock once he picks you up off his lap. he stared at the overflow of cum falling out of your pussy, before seemingly being content with the results. “tsumu?” you ask and he looks at you expectantly, “i promise, you’re the only one for me”

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iamdeku · 4 years ago

Text

Little Patch of Heaven: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

A convenience store au in which a certain explosive blonde is your boss, and you have a little crush.

Warnings: age gap! There is a slight age gap here between Bakugou and the reader. Reader is meant to be about 20, while Bakugou is 26-27-ish. This isn’t a huge gap, but if it makes you uncomfortable please don’t read on. Also sexual innuendo and a sleazy guy hitting on you.

You weren’t sure when you had started crushing on your boss, of all people. It had all started off very innocent, a friendship with the ornery man you had wanted to like you. That was all you had wanted. For him to not actively hate you like he did everybody else.

Somehow you had ended up here, throwing furtive glances his way, afraid he would catch you but unable to stop. While he worked the register you stocked the shelves, taking the time to admire him. The muscles in his arms flexed beautifully when he turned items to scan them, and you swear the red light of the scanner highlighted the veins in his arms like that was its designated purpose. Light filtered through the window, the beams hitting his white blonde undercut and fluttering through your heart. You couldn’t be doing this.

There were, as far as you could figure, three main problems with your crush on Bakugou Katsuki. The first was that he was your boss, and you had a strict policy against dating coworkers after watching your best friend in high school date a coworker and have a disastrous breakup resulting in her refusing to step foot in the local mall. Yeah. It was that kind of bad.

Second, Bakugou Katsuki hated everyone, and you weren’t an exception. Sure, you were pretty sure he didn’t hate you the way he hated everybody else, but that didn’t mean he would ever feel the same about you as you did about him. The biggest problem of all, however, was his age.

He wasn’t that much older than you, but what with you working this job while attending college and him being a fully functional adult man who had long passed his college days, you knew he would only ever see you as a kid. It was one of those unfortunate facts of life you’d prefer to ignore.

That being said, you weren’t short of suitors, oh no. Working at a convenience store like this, there were plenty of sleazy guys who liked to come by and pick on you when your boss was nowhere to be seen. You usually just ignored them, trying to make the best of it and laughing it off. Sometimes though, they got bold.

Bakugou had gone into the back room to check something out, and you were covering for him on register when things took a turn for the worse.

A gruff looking man who was probably in his mid-40’s came in, and the moment he walked through the door you could smell the alcohol coming off him in waves. He reeked of drunkenness, a fact that filled you with dread. You hoped he was harmless.

He headed straight towards you, and you felt every muscle in your body tense up. The store was basically empty right now, which did nothing to comfort you.

“Hey sweetheart. A pack of cigarettes, if you please.” He leered, leaning against the counter.

You shrank back, trying not to be too close to him.

“Sure, what kind?” You asked, customer service voice still firmly in place despite your disgust.

He specified what he wanted, and you grabbed them for him, intent on checking him out quickly so he would get out of here and leave you alone with no further incident. He had other plans, though.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No. Not my style.” You shrugged.

“You should. Your lips would look real pretty wrapped around a cigarette. I can think of some other things they would look pretty wrapped around, too.”

You pretended not to understand him, ringing up his total and reminding yourself he would be out the door mere moments from now without any further complications, and you would never have to think of him again. You took his cash for the cigarettes, returning his change hastily and wishing him a good day.

“Now hold on there just a minute,” he said. “You forgot something. You still haven’t given me your phone number.”

You laughed nervously, pretending and hoping that he was joking. He was not, and he stayed put, staring you down.

“I’m afraid it’s against store policy for me to provide my number to customers while on the clock,” you lied diplomatically.

“That’s bull,” he said. “If I was one of those cute little boys that come in here I bet you’d be tripping over yourself to give me your number. I think somebody needs to teach you a lesson. A little girly like you probably has a thing or two to learn that she can only be taught by a real man.”

“Do tell,” you hear a voice behind you start. “What qualifies as a real man? Because I’m pretty sure you’re slime somebody pulled out of the gutter and rolled into a ball.”

Bakugou’s voice behind you comes out as more of a growl than anything else, but the man is too drunk to register the very present threat.

“Oh, is this your little girl then? You should teach her to obey better.”

The word makes you bristle. He’s talking about you as though you’re a dog to be trained, and with Bakugou at your back like this you aren’t afraid of this man hurting you. He couldn’t even get close, especially not with your boss’s powerful quirk.

“I’m not an animal. The only person I obey is myself. I do what I want when I want, so you should leave before I decide I want to castrate you.” You spit the words with all the venom in your body.

“You’d better watch your mouth,” the man growled.

He raised a hand, and for a moment you felt the tension build in your body before another much larger hand wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip.

“You lay a single finger on her and I will blow up this hand. The other one I’ll do just for fun.”

Katsuki runs some sparks through his fingers to make his point, and you watch as the man’s face pales.

“You- I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Get out of my store. Before she makes you.”

Bakugou doesn’t need to say any more before the man is skuttling off, feet barely moving fast enough to stay underneath him. You take a shaky breath, a bad taste left in your mouth from the encounter. You hated when things like this happened, and though you could have easily taken care of it on your own you were grateful for a little backup.

“Thanks Bakugou,” you said. “I was afraid that one was going to get messy, but you never know. Sometimes they just like to play with their food.”

You shrugged, turning back to the register and going back to work.

“What do you mean?” Bakugou asked.

“Oh, you know guys like that. They’re usually pretty much harmless, but sometimes they don’t take no for an answer, and then I have to get a little strict.”

“That…happens a lot?”

The surprise in his tone confuses you. Surely a man who runs a convenience store had to know that the customers here were not always the friendliest. Or rather, they could be altogether too friendly.

“Yeah. At least once or twice in a shift. It kind of comes with the territory of working here.”

You turn around only to be confronted with Bakugou’s horrified face, and you know the sparks crackling along his arms this time are no controlled display.

“If one of those bastards ever tries anything like that again or so much as makes you uncomfortable, you come get me right away. You got that?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s no good driving away customers.”

His fists clench, the silver rings on his long fingers clicking against each other. “I don’t care what you think you can do. If that happens again, you come to me.”

That pissed you off. Who did he think he was? You knew he didn’t think much of you, but you could handle yourself.

“Listen, I get it, okay? I really do. I’m just the kid who stocks your shelves. You think you need to take care of me or whatever because you’re in charge of me. Well, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything, and you might just see me as a dumb kid but I’m not. I have it handled, thanks.”

Bakugou’s mouth fell open at your little speech, eyebrows coming together in something that looked suspiciously like anger.

“You think that’s how I see you? As just a kid?” He took a step closer, very nearly invading your space.

“Yeah. I mean, that’s why you hired me, isn’t it? You felt bad for me, trying to pay my way through college.”

“I hired you because I liked you better than all of the other idiots that applied for this job. I kept you around because you’re good at it, but not only that, you’re…” he blushed. “You’re funny. You always tell really good stories about the customers. You see them in ways that I don’t, that I can’t. I probably shouldn’t say this, and you can quit if you want because of it, but I think you’re beautiful. I spend half my time working just staring at you and hoping you won’t notice. I wouldn’t help you out with those guys because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I would help you because…it’s my job, okay? I’m supposed to protect you.”

There was something vulnerable about his last words that caught in your throat as he took a step even closer, close enough to reach out and touch you. He didn’t though, wouldn’t make another move. You weren’t scared to move though.

You took one of his rough hands in yours, stomach turning in knots and face growing warm.

“I didn’t think you saw me that way. I always figured you were looking because you didn’t like me, not because you liked me back,” you admitted.

“You…like me too?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m always staring at you? It’s because I think you’re beautiful too. I always wanted you to like me, and at some point it just turned into a different kind of like. I didn’t think I had a chance though. You barely like anybody at all. You don’t even like your best friend. Every time Izuku comes in you yell at him.” You giggle a little.

Bakugou frowns. “I yell at stupid Deku because you give him more attention than you give me. He’s banned, actually, but good luck getting that through his thick skull.”

“I thought you wanted us to get along! I figured it would be a good way to get you to like me if your friends liked me.”

“Yeah, well, Deku likes you a little too much.” Bakugou pouted.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re a little possessive, aren’t you?”

Bakugou grinned. Confident now in the knowledge that you liked him, he caged you in, body trapped between his arms and the counter you were pressing your back up against, the afternoon sunlight streaming down and highlighting your lips, which were suddenly very close to his. He leaned forward, tilting his head just so.

“Only possessive of the things that are mine.”

He closed the gap between you, giving you a honey sweet kiss right there in the empty convenience store, your personal safe haven. If somebody had asked you before starting this job whether you thought you would have a job you loved or a boss you kissed, your answer would have been an easy no. Things had changed a little since then.

You let yourself melt into the sensation of his kiss, fingers trailing up and down the muscle hiding beneath his black tank. You didn’t hold back, having waited too long to do this. By the time he pulled away, you were both a little breathless.

“Tonight, after we lock up, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“That didn’t sound like a request,” you tease.

He looked back at you, shooting you a feral grin. “It wasn’t.”

“And if I don’t go?” You raised a brow, unable to fight off the smile playing on your lips.

“Then you’ll have to pay for your own dinner.”

“Then I guess it’s a date.”

Needless to say, the date went well and you did a lot more making out in the stockroom than you would have predicted, but it was all worth it to have your little patch of heaven.

#mha #bnha #bakugou katsuki #agedup!bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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innocentbi-stander · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do demigod jaskier? But this time he is the son of Hecate?

@localhalfvampire I need to preface this by saying you’re an absolute GENIUS

Demigod jaskier, but son of Hecate has so much untapped potential and I’m LIVING for it

A jaskier who has magic, who hides himself from detection by using his abilities to manipulate the Mist that shields demigods from discovery from the rest of the world (he shivers to think of what sorcerers like that bastard Stregobor would do if they realized that demigods, sources of pure godly power and ability were walking about the Continent, free to manipulate)

Obviously children of Hecate possess an innate talent for magic, each level of magical ability depending on the child, but nobody, not even Hecate herself, had been prepared for the unintentional powerhouse that is jaskier

And how fitting is it that the person who would care about ability levels the least ends up the most powerful child of Hecate to walk the Continent since Circe herself?

Jaskier was brought to camp at a young age, his noble father unwilling to deal with the baby of his one night stand with a goddess

He is raised amongst demigods and taught to defend himself and defend others from the monsters that plague the children of the gods

A sword is placed in his hand as soon as he is strong enough to grasp it, he learns to throw daggers with deadly accuracy, to shoot arrows at a target blindfolded

For all that jaskier is taught to be fierce, and witty, to speak gracefully with a silver tongue, there is nothing he picks up faster than magic

Magic to jaskier is like breathing, for he was born from the goddess of magic herself, it is woven into every piece of his being

Hecate is a tough parent, and she believes in challenging her children and their abilities, and so it is no wonder when jaskier leaves camp to explore the world on his own, though he visits often

And then jaskier meets geralt and the rest is history

He spends twenty years chasing after the witcher (and though twenty years is not really a blink in the eye of an immortal demigod such as jaskier, that still matters) , there’s many hunts and contracts, aftermaths of jaskier stitching up geralt and lying about where he learned to sew skin so neatly

There’s evenings spent by the campfire, playing his lute and trying to ignore the way the firelight dances in geralt’s amber eyes

There’s laughs in taverns after a bit too much to drink, there’s lute strings tucked into his bag and no word of where they came from (though he knows), apples for Roach amongst complaints of destroying her diet, doublets ruined by days in the wilderness, and geralt’s barely there smile when jaskier produces honey cakes ‘given’ to him by the local baker

There’s inns, and shared rooms, then shared beds, and shared baths closer than close, and then there’s the djinn, and yennefer, and growing apart bit by bit

Jaskier possesses some of the greatest magic in the world, and there’s nothing he can do except watch the love of his life pick someone else over and over again and pretend not to be slowly falling apart

And then the mountain

Jaskier is alone for a little bit after that, wandering aimlessly

He travels across the Continent, killing monsters that the rest of the world can’t even see, wiping yellow sulphur dust from his hands and wishing he was somewhere else

Jaskier visits camp and stays there for a while, but no matter how many times he comes back jaskier is a traveler at heart and never stays for long

Not far past the borders of camp, at a nearby village, jaskier learns that nilfgaard has been looking for him

He can’t bring himself to be even remotely surprised then when he’s ambushed on the path a day later

The first few parties of soldiers are easily dispatched with the use of his sword and daggers, but then at some point nilfgaard realizes that the ‘harmless’ bard has teeth and sends a small army

Jaskier really should have laid low and hid himself amongst the Mist ages ago, but he’s never been one for hiding (and frankly he’s a little bit insulted that nilfgaard seems to have thought him so easy to defeat and resolves to knock them down a few pegs)

Unbeknownst to the demigod/bard/whatever the hell else he is right now, there’s been a rather frantic witcher accompanied by a witch and a princess that have been searching for him for ages, following the trail of bloody groups of soldiers

Geralt hears of the army sent after his bard and reacts first with confusion on why an army is needed to take down one human man, and then feels blind panic. Rather hysterically, as he’s shoving his, yennefer, and ciri’s things into roach’s saddlebags, is the thought, he’s going to tear them apart

Which really makes no sense given that jaskier is fucking human, but geralt has always felt something off about him, something bigger, and regardless of that he’s seen jaskier’s more feral side and is comforted slightly by the thought that jaskier is hardly the type to go down without a wicked fight

Yennefer is less reassured by this information (your bard is going to get torn apart, not the other way around!) and ushers them off immediately

When they reach the clearing where whispers of nilfgaardian soldiers has lead them, there is an entire small army present, at at the other side in the most bizarre looking fashion, is jaskier

He stands alone, but he does not look afraid

Jaskier faces the army of nilfgaardian soldiers, his doublet a shade of midnight blue, sword in hand, and a fierce look in his eyes that for some reason sends chills down geralt’s spine

He assesses the army, silent and calculating, finding something that nobody else can see

The captain of the army shouts an order and the men charge forward, a smirk reaches jaskier’s lips

The army’s movement sparks geralt into action, what is he doing just fucking standing there, and he unsheathes his sword to somehow help his bard

But then there is a well manicured hand on his arm and a spell stopping his feet from moving farther, and geralt looks to yennefer to ask her what the hell she thinks she’s doing and pauses at the curious look in her eye

“Wait” she mumbles to him, brow furrowed, “Something isn’t right”

And geralt turns back to the battlefield and jaskier’s eyes are glowing

Jaskier sees the army charging forward and it takes everything in him not to laugh. They are fools, every single one of them

Jaskier whispers a quick prayer to the gods for luck (even though he doesn’t need it), and lets his magic explode

When the screams fade and there is nothing in the clearing but ash and blood drying in the dirt, jaskier wills his magic to return to his body

He scrubs at a little spot of blood that had managed to stain his sleeve, a new doublet at that, and considers maybe it is time to hide amongst the Mist, if not to save his poor beautiful clothing

The snap of a twig interrupts his musings and brings jaskier to alert, the hum of his magic singing through his veins, hands at the ready

Jaskier goes deadly still when across the clearing he spies two ghosts from his past, one of them with a rather unflattering look of shock across his face, and the other looking way too pleased with herself

When they both start to make their way to him, jaskier debates on whether he still has enough energy in him to shadow travel, anything to make a speedy getaway and the fuck away from this horrible confrontation

He raises his hands , willing the shadows to lengthen and warp, ignoring the persistence dizziness and figuring there’s no better way to find out than to try, only to be stopped by a sharp, “don’t even think about it bard”

His response is instant and without hesitation, “who the fuck made you the boss of me? If I want to get the hell away from here I’m very well going to, I don’t give fuck all what you’ve got to say about it”

Yennefer’s eyes narrowed and she snatched one of his hands, still shaking with overexertion. “I think your hands tell a different story, you’re exhausted.”

“Yes, well defeating armies will do that to anyone I suppose”, Jaskier reclaimed his hand and tried to ignore the fact that geralt had yet to do anything but stare

Purple eyes examined him carefully, “You never told me you had magic”

Jaskier laughed, a hollow sound even to his own ears, “I don’t really, not your kind. It’s a long story”

“Then you’ll have plenty of time to tell us when we get to Kaer Morhen”, at last, the White wolf had spoken and unsurprisingly jaskier liked absolutely none of what he had to say

He sputtered, and he was sure his cheeks were turning that infuriating shade of red they always assumed when he was particularly pissed off, “I’m not going with you anywhere!”

Geralt turned to the bard, focusing on him with an intensity that jaskier before the mountain would have killed to receive “Nilfgaard isn’t going to stop. They want Ciri. The armies will keep getting bigger and bigger, until whatever fucking powers you have aren’t enough”

Jaskier scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest “I can handle myself”

Something in Geralt’s eyes softened “I know you can. But you don’t, shouldn’t, have to. Come with us. Just for the winter. Then you can go wherever you want. Please”

There was a long moment between them, amber and blue staring into each other’s depths. Jaskier didn’t know what to think. It had been made clear on the mountain that the witcher didn’t give a damn about jaskier, and jaskier wasn’t big on wasting his time in places he wasn’t wanted. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

But geralt had never pleaded with him like that, never said please. There was a desperation in his eyes that jaskier had never seen before and without his permission he felt his heart melt a little. What was one winter?

“Fine.” jaskier spoke carefully, trying to ignore the small smile that formed on geralt’s face. “I’ll come for the winter. But after that I’m leaving and I’ll be out of your life for good”

Jaskier hadn’t forgiven Geralt. He was owed an apology, and a thousand other things. Yennefer was still a bitch, and he had no idea how geralt’s brothers and mentor would react to a demigod in their midst. But jaskier was lonely, and tired of being on his own, and as much as he hated it there was a part of him that had desperately missed his witcher, no matter how much he had hurt him.

It was just one winter, right?

He’d figure it out….. somehow

_______________

That went in an entirely different direction than I was originally intending, but the story just got away from me... I hope you enjoyed!

What do you think folks, worthy of a part 2?

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thestraggletag · 4 years ago

Text

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions.

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd.

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation.

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress.

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced.

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief.

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

“A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him.

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness.

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her.

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

#argoslight #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Roll for Initiative #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Rumbelle Gift Swap

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fae-leaves · 4 years ago

Text

SFW Headcanon Alphabet (Louis Vincent Chauveau)

I made this a while ago without the intention of posting it, so I forgot who I stole the template from... whoops.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s very affectionate! Will praise you until your ego is bigger than the sun.

If you’re shorter than him he’d give you lots of gentle head pats.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You would most likely meet at either a party or browsing the wine selection at a store.

He’s a very loyal friend and will always be there for you whenever you need him.

If you’re ever sad and need some cheering up, he’s definitely the one to turn to.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddling

Curling up on the couch with a blanket and a warm drink, staring at the fire or a cheesy romance movie? Absolutely.

Loves cuddling with the cats, too. Any cats, really. It doesn’t matter.

If he sees you snuggled up on the bed with one of the cats, he melts and joins in as quick as he can without disturbing you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He doesn’t mind not being in a committed relationship, he travels a lot and meets tons of new people all the time anyway.

He’s a really clean person. If he’s left alone for too long with nothing to do, the house will be absolutely spotless.

He’s banned from the kitchen. Period. Full stop. End of story.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d ask to meet with you somewhere, preferably where you could have some privacy.

Louis would be super gentle about it and wouldn’t yell or scream, even if you were yelling at him.

He’d probably still want to be friends, but would obviously understand if you didn’t want that.

He’d give you space and be patient with you, and if you ever wanted to talk about it more he’d be open for that.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Due to his past, Louis has a hard time with committed relationships. On one hand, he’s too afraid that he’d hurt you or worse, but on the other he gets attached to people quickly and doesn’t want to leave you.

In the end, he’s fine either way. He just wouldn’t want to be with someone he isn’t 100% sure he’s in love with.

He wouldn’t want to get married/ propose quickly. He’s heard far too many stories about couples getting engaged/ married too quick and then realizing too late that their partner wasn’t exactly what they thought. Give it a few years.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he’s pretty darn gentle. After years and years of softly petting animals and playing piano in his free time, he’s trained himself to be as gentle as possible.H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Surprisingly, even though he tends to be a bit handsy, he’s not really one for hugs unless he knows the person.

When he does hug someone it's usually quick, unless he’s close with them.

If he’s close with you then get ready cuz he might not let you go for a while.

Hugs from Louis are warm and make you feel safe, and the scent of his expensive cologne, fine wine, and dark chocolate make it that much better.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him a while to say it, due to his past.

He’s scared that if he says it too soon, you’ll leave him or he’ll jinx it and the relationship will turn out bad…

You would end up saying it first, and after a while he’d feel ready to confidently say it back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Louis doesn’t get jealous very often. He understands that you have your own life and separate relationships.

If you were in a committed relationship, though, and someone was getting a bit too close to you for his liking, he’d stand right next to you and wrap his arms around you, give you gentle kisses, and mutter sweet nothings to you, all while staring the other person dead in the eye.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He’s a great kisser. He’s had lots of practice, after all~

His favorite places to kiss you (other than your lips, of course) would be your eyes and your forehead.

His favorite place to be kissed is his neck (kinky little f*ck)

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He wouldn’t really want any kids of his own, they’re too messy…

But he does love kids, and kids seem to love him, too!

He’d be great at telling dramatic stories to entertain them, and could always find a way to cheer up a sad little kiddo.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

That really depends on the events of the previous night…

If he’s hungover, you’d probably have to comfort him as he transformed into a blanket burrito and tried to sleep off his pounding headache.

Normally, though, Louis would hold you close and give you gentle kisses, rubbing your back and speaking softly.

He tends to wake up early, so he’d probably watch you sleep for a while.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Louis are always amazing.

He’d love to lay out in the garden with a bottle of wine (or perhaps two) and stargaze.

If you wanted something more fast pace, he probably knows of a party or club the two of you could go to.

If you wanted something more calm and loving, cuddles on the couch or a “sleepover” on the livingroom floor while watching all sorts of movies.

If you were looking for something… spicy… Louis would be happy to provide there, too ;)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Some things he’d be open about, but others it would take a long time with lots of trust for him to reveal.

He would definitely open up slowly, too scared that certain events from his life would put you off.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

That depends on the person and the subject, but usually he’s pretty chill.

The only thing that would definitely piss him off 100% of the time is cockatoos.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He tries his best to remember every little detail about you, and usually succeeds.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It’s hard for him to choose!

The moment you met, your first kiss, when you both said “I love you” for the first time, spending quiet nights in the dark with you, dinner by candlelight…

And if you decide to get married and/ or have (a) kid(s)?

He loves everything about you, so it’s impossible for him to pick just one moment to be his favorite.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

If Louis thinks you can take care of yourself, he likely won’t bother you by being overly protective.

If there’s ever a situation, however, where he feels you need saving, he won’t hesitate to step in and get you out of the situation.

Since he tends to deprive himself of blood like an idiot, he’ll make sure to stay away from everyone and completely isolate himself until he gets himself back under control.

He’d trust that you’d keep any secrets he tells you, and that you not tell a soul that he’s a vampire.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Oh boy

This man has more money than he knows what to do with, so obviously he’d spend it all on you! (And wine and fancy clothes and cleaning supplies and chocolate and cat stuff, but we don’t talk about that)

He’d go all out on dates. A fancy restaurant, roses, fine wine, stargazing, anything you could want!

He probably wouldn’t buy you too many gifts on his own, but if you asked for something there’s a pretty darn good chance you’ll get it.

If you thought a date with Louis was great, wait for your anniversary…

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Louis worries a lot… like… a lot.

He’s scared that if he does even the littlest thing wrong, you’ll leave him

He’s also worried that he’ll hurt you, physically and/ or emotionally, without intending to

Because of this, he can sometimes forget to care for himself, only focussing on you

He doesn’t sleep as much as he should, which leaves him tired and drained. It doesn’t help that he’s good at covering it up, either.

Possibly the worst of all his bad habits is the fact that he doesn’t drink enough blood.

He absolutely hates that he has to potentially harm others just to survive, and even though the blood he gets is collected in a completely safe and harmless way, he still has a hard time getting it down.

Not getting enough blood makes him irritable, cranky, and tired, not to mention the physical toll it has on him.

He bottles up his feelings a lot, not wanting to be a burden on others

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

You will never, EVER, see Louis NOT looking fabulous.

He takes every chance he gets to glance at his reflection in the mirror, just to make sure he still looks flawless.

Yes, he does take over an hour to get ready every morning, thank you for asking.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If he was truly in love with you, then yes, absolutely.

However, Louis has felt enough rejection and loss in his long life to be able to get over things much quicker than you’d expect.

If it was just a matter of not seeing you for a few days or even a few hours, then yes. No questioning it.

If you have to be separated for an extended period of time, you better be ready for at least a phone call a day, just so he can hear your voice, and a few texts every hour, just to check in on you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Louis hates cockatoos. He was once cursed out by one of the little devils unprovoked, and everyone around laughed at him. He was humiliated by a bird, and here he was thinking his love for our feathery friends was mutual…

His two favorite animals are birds and cats.

Louis doesn’t really like playing piano, but he was forced to learn growing up, and it’s a way to pass the time and possibly impress his partner, sooo…

He hates that since he was born a full blooded vampire, he can’t be cured and has to drink the blood of others just to stay alive.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like super sweet tasting things.

Cockatoos, but we’ve already been over this.

He doesn’t like people who act they’re better than everyone else. Even though he cares a lot about his appearance and social class, he’s aware that not many are fortunate enough to have a good life, and wouldn’t ever judge someone based on their appearance/ social status. Most of the time he ends up finding the less fortunate in life a lot more interesting than those who’ve had everything handed to them on a silver platter.

He also hates other vampires that intentionally harm humans or just others in general to get blood, especially if they can be cured of their vampirism.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleep? Who’s she?

He really doesn’t get enough sleep… usually it’s only 4-5 hours, not consecutive.

When is asleep though, he’s sprawled out over the whole bed, softly snoring, laying on his stomach with his face in the pillows.

He looks incredibly calm and at rest when he’s asleep.

He’s unfortunately a very light sleeper, but loves to pretend to be sleeping if he wakes up to you petting his hair or snuggling against him~

#oc #original character #my oc #my original character #vampire oc #vampire original character #oc headcanons #headcanon alphabet #i have no idea what i'm doing

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Redamancy - Chapter Seven (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, murder, HEAVY GORE. BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE

wc; 14.5k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

There’s a familiar feeling of dread when you wake up this afternoon. A bottomless pit in your stomach that sticks with you no matter how hard you shake. You sit in bed for an extra twenty minutes, hoping that positive affirmations will be enough to get some of it to go away. Dread is an unbearably uncomfortable feeling, and it doesn’t go away either.

You have to get out of bed at some point, so you drag your feet around your room, getting shit ready for the shower. Ripped white skinny jeans, an open-back light blue shirt, white underwear. You drop it all onto the white bathroom counter, turn on the shower, and let it run for a couple of minutes as you lean over the sink bowl.

Maybe you’re just hungry. You’ve felt this same hopeless feeling before, and all you had to do was eat for it to go away. You’ll have breakfast, and by the time you get to the betting room, your heart and stomach will be full. It’s hard to convince yourself this lie, knowing that it’s deeper than that.

You take your time in the shower too, no longer feeling sorry for Finnick for taking so long. He’s got Gloss and Enobaria down there, and they’re not so bad when you get to know them well enough. Unlike their crazy tributes inside of the arena, they know when and how to dial it down without causing too much trouble. Every year, it’s like the tributes ramp it up for entertainment. You wish they knew just how fucking insane they looked, how unappealing it’ll get to the gamemakers.

The Capitol likes fun, big and new until it’s gross and they can’t stomach it anymore. It might take them a little longer to get to that point, since they’ve been watching this shit for years, so they’re more desensitized than the rest of you. But it’s going to happen, and the moment it does, the gamemakers are going to censor everything possible to get their exciting program back on track.

It’s sickening, but it’s always sickening.

You wrap it up in the shower, allow the Capitol hair machines to work their magic on your hair. And while you’re at it, you go ahead and decide to let the body blow dryers do the exact same thing. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re not in the Capitol. You’re at home, on the beach surrounded by your friends and family. It’s late spring, early summer. You’ll picnic on the beach after you’re done with the water, and then you’ll play games until sundown. Walking home in the dark is especially fun, Reed drunk is a sight that never fails to amuse.

And then the blow dryers stop, and you’re right back home. You get dressed, one article at a time. Underwear, bra, pants, shirt. To avoid an endless stare in the mirror again, you go out to the dining room.

You turn on the tv, sit at the table, and watch as the avoxes serve a big breakfast. Good, you want to make sure that you’re full. The sooner the shitty feeling goes away, the sooner you can start focusing on more important topics. You take your time getting through it all. Pancakes, with assorted berries, syrups and candies to place on top. You get orange juice, coffee and hot chocolate served in a heartbeat. If you don’t want the berries, you can opt for oranges, apples, plums, mangos. If not fruits, then vegetables.

You stick with the pancakes, mixing and matching your food to try and find the best combination. You’re procrastinating, you know it. The longer you take, the less time you’ll have to spend inside of the betting room. You eat and eat, but find that the feeling isn’t going away. This shouldn’t be how today is going, especially not after the shit you just went through yesterday. It might not have been your tributes directly, but it was bad enough.

At least lady fate has been nice enough to give you a warning, right? Right?

It’s one-thirty in the afternoon. Everyone inside of the arena is awake and working on their own projects by now. Nine girl is relaxing off to the left, she’s got a fire started, and she’s cooking some animal that you’ve never seen before, over it. She’s content, and you think that she'll be able to kite the games easily, if she doesn’t go and pull anything like Bauhinia did.

Had Bauhinia just minded her own business and stuck next to the dam, she’d be alive right now. It wouldn’t have made for an interesting day, but that’s okay. You still can’t believe that she thought it was a good idea to try and attack them in the first place. Sure, it was only one of them, but she really didn’t think that she’d get away with it. The careers aren’t just going to let it go.

Sometimes there’s genius tributes, who can make their way around the arena, fight other tributes and survive off of worms in the ground. And they have everyone fooled, right up until they make their first not-common sense decision. A part of you can understand how they made it so far, because they’ve obviously got the skills for it. They’re just lacking literally the most obviously important details.

Bauhinia had the chance of winning, and she blew it for herself.

District Seven is awake, but they haven’t moved from the huts. They don’t look like they’re planning on going anywhere, either. The dam is leaking water, which has them mildly concerned, as they should be. They’ve just decided to ignore it for the time being, take advantage of it while they can before they have to actually go to the stream.

Annie and Marsh haven’t gone out to their snares at all. You don’t think they’re planning on moving today, either. They’re holed up inside of their shack, splitting food and talking about how they’re going to ration it. Maybe they’re finally going to try and make the push to the village tonight? That’s good, they should make one last round with the snares and gather what they can. Just in case there isn’t any food over there, they’d have some rabbits, squirrels and whatever else to hold them over until their next trip. Same thing goes for stocking up water.

As for the careers, they’re getting a slow start to today’s hunting day. They eat, discuss, go quiet, and then repeat the process about a hundred times until they eventually agree on just heading towards the stream. They pack up their things agonizingly slow, keeping the wretched kama with them so that no other tribute can run across it and keep it. It’s smart, but also a waste of space, considering they broke the strap on the outside of the backpack that would’ve held it for them.

And the only tribute that’s left is Five boy, who is a lot farther along than you thought he would be. He’s practically at the stream, and the path he took was on top of the careers. How they didn’t see him is a complete mystery to you. Like every other tribute that moves through the woods, he’s not very quiet.

Then again, the careers are dragging their feet, so yesterday must’ve tired them out. After walking for several hours, and then running, there’s no way that their legs aren’t sore. Plus, they’re carrying backpacks chocked full of goods they’ll need for a couple of days. At least this shows that they’re some form of human. You’re sure that they’re going to find some way to change that thought in the next day or so. With what you’re feeling today, it’ll probably be in the next few hours.

You finish breakfast, still watching as Five boy gets closer and closer to the stream. With where he’s at currently, Annie and Mash shouldn’t have a thing to worry about. Hell, the kid isn’t even geared up, no backpack, no weapons, he’s just letting the wind decide where he’s going. Even if he did manage to run across your tributes, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. He’s harmless.

The careers get ready to go, heading the exact same was as Five boy, of course. Again, if they stick with the path that they’re on, they shouldn’t be a problem with your tributes, either. However, if that were the case, you’re sure your heart wouldn’t squeeze each time you think of the idea of them getting close to Annie and Marsh.

You brush your teeth in your bathroom, no longer taking your time getting ready. You’ve wasted thirty minutes eating lunch alone, dragging your feet isn’t going to delay the inevitable. If today’s going to be a bad day, it’s going to happen with or without you.

Plus, Finnick’s probably wondering where you’ve been this entire time. You know that he didn’t leave to go to the betting room until early this morning. With the confirmation last night that the careers wouldn’t be doing anything else, he decided to sleep for a little while longer. You didn’t really see any harm in it either. The important part is that he got down there this morning.

The elevator down makes you anxious, you press a hand to your stomach, hoping that it’ll ease your nerves. But the more you walk towards the betting room, the more the dread spreads from your stomach to your chest. By the time you’re actually inside of the room, you’re sure that being dead would be better than feeling this for the rest of the day.

Finnick is standing up instead of sitting, arms crossed while he watches the tv screen. Gloss is standing next to him, talking about something. Every now and then they’ll glance at each other, but for the most part, they’re reasonably interested in what’s going to eventually happen. It’s a matter of time before the careers and Five boy run across each other, isn’t it?

As for Enobaria, she’s in a group of sponsors, chatting away. You’d say that you’re surprised or that she’s gearing up for something, but the truth is that it’s a ritual of hers. She’ll lose a tribute, and then she’ll go talk to Capitol people all day to make her feel better. It’s a way to take away from the self-hated. The Capitol people are a fucking escape, with their rich lives, accents and complete obliviousness to social cues. It’s hard not to get lost in them.

Mentors are usually pissed at the Capitol for encouraging the games, but it works a little differently with the careers. You’re supposed to love the Capitol for favoring your districts all because of what you guys produce. The truth is that keeping up appearances is hard, and constantly trying not to be mad at them is even worse. At some point you’re going to snap.

And Enobaria wouldn’t want to ruin the perfect reputation that she’s built up all this time. To be fair, neither would you. It’s hard to get the Capitol to like a district that isn’t very good at the games, and it’s even harder to do when you’ve insulted them constantly. This is why you insult your own district to ally yourselves with the Capitol to make them think that you’re over being a savage.

Anyway, you wouldn’t be surprised if Enobaria doesn’t speak to any of you all today. She should be right back to it tomorrow, though. Nothing is permanent when it comes to her. She could be mad at you today, bounce right back at it the next day. She’ll also probably find a way to blow off steam.

The Afternoon Line Odds say that everyone is still at their respective places. Annie and Marsh are still at a 6-1, Sanguine is at 1-1, and Geare is at 2-1. As for everyone inside of the arena… you wouldn’t say that they don’t have a chance at winning, you’d say that they don’t have a chance at getting sponsored. The higher your odds, the more people are going to keep their eyes on you.

Before Bauhinia died, she was at a 14-1, which isn’t horrible, but isn’t the best either. Nine girl is at a 10-1, you can’t remember what she was yesterday. You can imagine that getting that backpack from the cornucopia has worked wonders for her. The more supplies she has, the easier it’ll be to live out in the woods. You still think that someone should make a run for the village before it’s too late. None of the careers are going to see, and do they really think another, lesser tribute is going to chase them down there?

The village is barren, it’s practically the golden ticket. Plus, Nine girl doesn’t even know about the stream on the right side of the woods! All she probably knows is about the dam leaking water, but that’s not really an efficient way to drink, right? Who knows how many diseases lie inside of the lake water behind the dam. The water probably has concrete dust anyway.

Though, you can’t completely blame them. If you were in the same spot as they were, you’re not sure if going out of your comfort zone would be a number one priority. In your arena, you always went to the pond. And after the pond was slowly being sucked up, you were apprehensive to go to the waterfall because it was uncharted territory… not really claimed, either. On the other hand, though, you knew that other tributes were in that area. Made it a little harder to want to go around there in the first place.

You appear behind Finnick and Gloss, who don’t seem to take notice of your presence at all. With the angle they’re turned at, Finnick could look to Gloss and still not see you. As you listen in, it’s basically meaningless conversation, until Finnick starts asking questions.

“Is she normally this stressed out?”

“You don’t even know half of it. Compared to the last couple of years we’ve known her, this is absolutely nothing.” Gloss lets out a breathy laugh, “I mean, she used to eat, sleep and breathe this room. None of us really understood how she’d survive down here. Sleep deprivation, hours without eating.” Gloss looks at Finnick, “The tributes would die and she wouldn’t even get mad. It’s hard to forget she’s human.”

“Do you think she unintentionally flirts with the Capitol people?” Finnick asks.

Your mouth opens, face twisting in disbelief as you look to Finnick. You have the urge to slap him upside the head hard enough to rattle his fucking brain with a question like that. You don’t mind that he’s asking these questions, he was practically asking the same exact ones last night before you went to bed.

After the Anchor question on the balcony, more followed. He had three years to catch up on, and you guys didn’t even get to finish. You got too tired to go on, so he let you go on the promise that you’d resume the questionnaire another night. He asked practically everything that he could think of.

How you were doing after all these years, what you like to do, how you fill your free time when you’re not in the Capitol. What your brothers have been up to, how Alyssum’s been doing in school, what they do now that they don’t have to work every hour of the day to provide anymore. And then went the questions for Caspian’s family and if you’re still close with them, which is an obvious yes. More questions about Mags, Anchor and Luther.

You think this is a good sign, like it’s Finnick’s own personal way to weasel his way back into your life. You’re practically down for whatever gets him to stay this time around. You don’t want him to be participating in this year’s games but completely fall off the radar by the time next year rolls around.

Anyway, Finnick turning to Gloss to ask these same questions is only natural, you’re sure that if Cashmere and Enobaria were over here too, they’d be more personal. To some extent, you think that Finnick isn’t trying to dig too deep, like he’s unsure of whether or not Gloss is one of your best friends or not. However, if he was going with that path, he wouldn’t have just asked Gloss whether he thinks you’re flirting with the Capitol each time you open your mouth.

“Uh,” Gloss says, smart man. He shouldn’t be quick to answer, but if he’s finding a better way to word whatever he’s thinking, he might have earned himself a hard slap to the side of the head too. “I wouldn’t say that it’s unintentional. We all know that the more you compliment the sponsors, the more willing they are to sponsor. So, I’d say that when she does, it’s on purpose too. She’s good at getting her way.”

“So I’ve heard.” Finnick mutters.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you ask, causing the both of them to jump.

Gloss places a hand over his heart, “Holy fuck, (Y/n). Again?”

You hardly pay attention to Gloss, eyes focused on Finnick, who’s beginning to turn red because of guilt, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“That’s what everyone says when they’re caught.” you roll your eyes, looking at the screen, “What’s up, Gloss?”

“Watching Enobaria unintentionally flirt with the sponsors.” Gloss snorts.

“Ha!” you elbow him, a smile peeking onto your face.

“(Y/n), I just meant that I’ve experienced it first hand. The elevator? The train?” Finnick says, you barely glance at him, “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

You shrug, a cheeky smile on your face, “Hey, I’d be careful next time, though. Who knows what corner I’ll be lurking behind next?” you reach over, fingers finding Finnick’s sides.

Finnick squirms, giving you a glare, “Get your dirty fingers off of me.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll just turn to Gloss instead--”

“I’m not ticklish, living a life with Cashmere will do that to you.” Gloss says.

You pause for a second, “She’s your younger sister.”

“Sisters are cruel.” he says.

You snort, going for his sides anyway, “You’re a liar!”

“Grab her!” Gloss shouts, Finnick laughs.

You move out of the way before either of them can do some real damage. Gloss had been going for your wrists, Finnick for your back. You knew it was only going to be a matter of time before they tried to torture you. But unlike them--the total liars--you’re not actually ticklish.

It’s always the older sibling that messes with the younger ones. Of course, you’ve had your fair share of impish moments and getting on your brothers’ nerves. But you’ve never had the opportunity to hold down Reed and give him hell until he cried and begged and promised to do shit that he didn’t want to. Plus, the idea of Cashmere going that far on Gloss is heinous. Does he really think you’re that stupid?

“Anyway, hear the tributes talk about anything important?”

“For a while the gamemakers let us hear Annie and Marsh. Catch any of that while you were taking your sweet ass time getting down here?” Finnick asks, giving you a raised eyebrow.

“Not my fault I feel like shit.”

Suddenly, Finnick’s no longer suspicious, “Sick?”

“Probably not, just a gut feeling.”

Gloss lets out a laugh, “Well, that’s not good. Last time you had a gut feeling was last year when… both of your tributes died on the same day?”

“Yeah.” you huff, “And if this year is a repeat, I’m going to fucking lose my mind.”

“I would too. You’ve got quite the streak going on.”

You punch Gloss’ arm.

“So on top of everything else, you’re also psychic?” Finnick asks.

You place your hands on top of your head, “Yeah, something like that. What was Annie and Marsh saying?”

“Village, talking about going there before it’s too late. They both want to go tonight, they’re still worried about finding a water source, though.”

“Figured.”

The further Sanguin and Geare walk, the more they seem to awaken. No longer dragging their feet, conversation has picked back up into its usual vicious state. Mostly about what happened yesterday, and they can’t believe that the chase went on as long as it did. You can’t blame them, at first glance, Bauhinia doesn’t look like a girl that ran track in high school. Then again, appearances can be deceiving.

Five boy has made it to the stream, deciding to take a break. He’s sat on the right side of the bank so no one can sneak up on him from the way he came. He sheds some clothing, dipping his shirt in the water, ringing it out a little to not let him be completely soaking wet, and then puts it back on. You didn’t really consider the fact that it could very well be hot inside of the arena. It looks like it’s the middle of springtime there, like it can’t be more than seventy degrees.

Whatever he does, he doesn’t shed his shoes. He’ll sit in the stream water, let his pants completely soak, but taking off his shoes is out of the question. In fact, he even goes as far as to lift his feet in the air to make sure that they don’t get wet at all. You guess it’s not a completely fruitless idea. Walking in wet shoes isn’t comfortable at all, especially when your skin begins to wrinkle. Plus, if he were to take off his shoes and someone else were to show up, he’d be stuck running through the woods barefoot. If there’s one thing that no one wants to do, it’s run through the woods barefoot.

Rocks, dirt, sticks, needles, poison ivy, beetles, spiders, snakes, whatever can be lying in the grass. Hell, you’ve seen grass that looks like it’s harmless, but it turns out it has razor edges along the blade. It wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact that the grass had reached above their shoes, constantly cutting and reopening wounds on their calves. Didn’t make for a very fun time for the tributes.

You can appreciate the determination going on with Five boy. He kinda reminds you of Six before he went and died via forcefield. The both of them have their own set of determinations. While Five boy has, for whatever reason, made it his goal to make it across the woods in a little less than two days, Six boy had been moving to get away from the dam.

Although, you’re really not sure what Five is up to. If he was looking for water, he found it. But you can’t imagine that’s why he traveled across the entire arena. If he’s lasted this long, that means he’s had his own supply off to the far left for a while. Why leave what you know is working? You’re all for taking risks until it’s unnecessary.

Upstream from Five is your tributes, who are still inside of the shack. You can’t hear the conversation, as usual, so you try your best to read lips. You think you catch Marsh saying that they should hole themselves up inside of the shack until tonight comes. Annie asks what they would do if someone came along and wants where they’re saying, he says to fend it off or just make a fucking run for the village.

Annie says splitting up isn’t a smart idea, he agrees, “What choice do we have?” Those words are the clearest. Annie doesn’t really respond, she just brings her legs to her chest and rests her chin on her knees. Then, she shrugs. You can’t blame her, it’s hard knowing what to do when you don’t really have options. And with them being inside of the Hunger Games, everything is a risk at this point.

If they don’t move on, they run the risk of someone coming across them, their shack, their snares and taking one of them out. If they do move on, they leave behind shelter, the way they’ve been getting food, a certain water source, and they go on the chance that they might get caught on the way to the village. It’s not really a winning situation unless all conditions are perfect. Which is hardly ever. Oh, and also if they stay, the dam will eventually be their number one problem.

Marsh says that he’s going to step out and get fresh air, he’ll just be outside of the doorstep. Annie says she’s fine with that, watches him leave and then closes her eyes for a while. They’re not really splitting up, so you can’t see a problem with him just leaving for a moment. If he wanders off, that’s a whole new ordeal, though.

Sanguin and Geare are fast despite their sore legs. The map that the gamemakers show you, tell you that they’re basically on top of the stream. A couple more minutes, and they’ll be able to see it through the trees. And with the path they took, it’s parallel to what Five boy took. This is a fight waiting to happen. Any fucking minute now.

“Back to back.” Gloss says.

“Can’t wait to see what Sanguin has instore for us today.” Finnick says.

Gloss looks over, “You heard what happened?”

“Saw.” you correct, “Showed him what happened when I got back yesterday. Let’s just say that Finnick can eat and watch shit like that all day long.”

“O-kay.” Finnick draws out the world, but he starts laughing along with you two.

And like you predicted, Sanguin and Geare spot the stream through the trees. They’re not really overjoyed, just relieved that they finally found it after all this time. They take their time getting there, dropping off their stuff in the bushes along the treeline. Geare crouches down to splash water on his face, Sanguin complains about her hair being greasy.

They fill back up on water, talking quietly amongst themselves because there’s no use to shout if they’re next to each other. The moment they comfortably fall into silence, Five boy’s voice is heard. It’s not clear, it sounds distant, but it’s unmistakable. You watch as Sanguin and Geare share a look, hands finding their weapons, then dropping the things they don’t need at the moment before they head off toward Five.

A part of you wonders that if Five boy takes off running, if they’ll follow or just let him go. You wouldn’t believe your eyes if they just decided to go after him. But you also couldn’t believe your eyes when you watched Sanguin single-handedly rip apart Bauhinia like she was a fucking animal and not a human.

The careers disappear into the trees for better coverage, taking their time with getting down to where Five boy is. They’re definitely going to chase after him. And if they don’t chase, Sanguin will probably just throw her sword out of nowhere or some shit. Surprise all of you at the same time. If the odds could go to 0-1 with her, you’re sure that they would.

Five boy is humming to himself, turning a rock over in his hand. You watch in silent horror as Sanguin and Geare manage to get closer and closer without being detected. Actually, you’re sure that with their skills, they could easily cross the stream and still not be figured out. If they can do this in broad daylight, what can they do when they have the night as their veil?

You don’t like the chill that goes down your spine.

No words pass between Sanguin and Geare, they must decide that they’ll be able to handle Five boy in whatever way they need. The way that they simultaneously come out of the trees, with their hand-picked weapons brandished and the strict expression on their faces. They look like a pair of villains in a children’s fairytale. However, normally those villains are easy to beat and seem to have a chink in their armour. Sanguin and Geare are not like that.

Five spots them almost immediately, eyes widening and darting up, mouth parting as he watches them. You can see the glint of the sun off Sanguin’s sword land in his eyes for a moment, before disappearing off into the trees. No words come from any of them, he just stares as they get closer.

Sanguin and Geare split, wanting to take Five from both sides, which seems to finally set him off. Five jumps to his feet, crouching over slightly, caught in the decision of fight or flight. Would be he able to hold them off? You don’t think so. Would he be able to outrun them? You don’t think so, either. They’re good fighters, Sanguin’s an even-better runner. There’s no way he’s making out of this alive.

Doesn’t mean he can’t try, though.

And like a fucking psychopath, Five boy screams at the top of his lungs. And while that momentarily catches both of the careers off guard, it also makes Annie jerk to life inside of the shack. She grabs her short blade, throwing the door of the shack open to find what’s the matter. Marsh is already on his feet outside, eyes on Annie.

“What was that?” Annie asks, you can hear her this time.

“It’s not far away.” Marsh says, “We shouldn’t stay.”

“We can’t leave now, can we? Where will we go?”

“Up?” Marsh asks.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

Another scream, Five boy has brought his fists up to his face like he’s getting ready to fight. He’s an idiot, he’s going to get himself killed. If Annie can take out One boy--Colt--without blinking her eyes, Sanguin and Geare can both easily do it with their eyes closed. You have slight hope for him, looking at the Line Odds to see what the gamemakers are making of him. He’s at 15-1, worse than Bauhinia.

“He’s fucked!” you exclaim.

Sanguin bites, swinging her sword right at him. He ducks out of the way, jumping at her legs. He takes her out, scrambling on top of her, getting the sword away from him. He raises his fist up high, and before Geare can catch it, slams his fist straight into her teeth. You can feel the ache in your own front teeth, especially since he gave her all knuckle. She’s got to be feeling something.

Geare grabs a hold of Five, yanking him off and backwards into the water, which is now a huge factor. It’s splashing everywhere, getting all of them wet, slowing their movements down. The stream seems to get heavier, moving faster to make balancing impossible. No thanks to the gamemakers, you’re sure. A little interference never hurt anyone, right?

Sanguin scoops up her sword in her wet hands, which are still stained red from Bauhinia’s blood yesterday. She rinsed them off with the water from her water bottle, but even after that, and scrubbing them in the stream not five minutes ago, they’re stained. And they’re about to be stained again, you think.

Geare holds Five boy in place, raising up the sword. Five stays still eyes on the silver blade that’s about to make its home in his chest. His life is probably flashing before his eyes, every mistake he’s ever made is suddenly at the front of his mind. What he said to his family last before they had to say their goodbyes. It’s all he can think about.

Marsh has now geared up for the fight, completely switching gears from his original intention of running, “What if it’s the careers?”

“What--are you hearing yourself? You’re right! What if it’s the careers--you just want to run right on in?”

“There’s two of them, Annie!” Marsh shoves Annie’s backpack into her hands, “And just in case you forgot, we’re careers too! This could be our opportunity!”

“Or it could be our death sentence!” Annie grabs a hold of his arm, “This is stupid.”

“Come or don’t, I’m going down there.”

He tightens the strap on his backpack, quickly making his way down the hill. Annie stands there for a moment, runs a hand through her messy hair, and then lets out a sigh. She heads down there after him, tightening the straps on her own backpack, and gripping and regripping the short blade in her hand. This is bad, very bad.

The fight is about to go from three to five. The original stakes are now unmatched, now that two more careers have been added to the equation. District Four versus Five boy versus what’s left of the career pack. Who’s going to fight who, you wonder. Will Sanguin and Geare stay focused on their original plan, or will they be completely distracted by your tributes.

The tension in your chest has met its breaking point. Loud, shaking, vibrating. This is it. Exactly what you feared is going to happen. Last year, a couple of tributes had managed to kill both of your tributes at the same time. This year, it’s going to be the careers, since Sanguin is dead set on killing Annie at least, and Geare will naturally go for Marsh to finish District Four off once and for all.

“(Y/n), breathe.” Finnick’s rubbing your back.

Sanguin brings the sword down, she misses Five boy by a hair. He turned sideways just in time, but Sanguin’s not fucking around. She’s desperate to get this over with, tired of outsider tributes slipping through her fingers like sand. She raises her sword much quicker now, and slams it through his arm, pinning him to the ground. He screams.

Marsh quickens his pace, Annie quietly ushers him to slow down. He doesn’t listen to her. They both make it down the hill just in time to see Geare pin Five’s other arm down with his foot. Sanguin holds out her hand, Geare hands over his own weapon. One moment, they’re all still, Five has no way of escaping, Marsh and Annie are an audience to some sick show.

Chaos is what happens next. Sanguin moves faster than Marsh had predicted. She easily kills Five, a cannon going off. But Marsh has revealed where he was, moving towards her, swinging his own sword before she can pull hers out of Five. He brings the blade up high, Sanguin flinches to cover her face with her forearm. The blade slices right through her skin, blood flying, a yelp of pain leaving her.

Annie moves forward too, apprehensive at first, like she doesn’t know where to start. Attack Sanguin or Geare? Does she even want to be placed in the middle of this? If she ran now, she could save herself. Fuck, she could run all the way to the village and none of them would be able to catch her. She’d be able to hide herself somewhere where they’d never be able to find her.

And then Sanguin catches sight of Annie, and suddenly the whole mood is shifted. With her target spotted, Marsh is an easy object to get out of the way. She shoves, rips her sword out of Five, blood gushing down her arm at an unhealthy pace, and storms her way over to Annie.

It’s too late for Annie to run now. Her chin lowers, she makes sure that Sanguin can see the shortblade, and the fight really starts. Sanguin swings, Annie dodges and moves closer. It’s the same dancing game that she played with Colt, except this time, Sanguin knows of Annie’s games. For every step Annie takes forward, Sanguin moves backward to keep her away.

At some point, though, she can’t run any further. It’ll make her look like a coward. Annie is persistent, she won’t let up until Sanguin conforms or runs. Subject yourself to the fight, or find a way to get out of there before Annie does some real damage. And since Sanguin isn’t a career for nothing, she steps up.

Blade on blade, over and over and over again. Annie swings up, Sanguin blocks, slips and goes downward. Annie will narrowly get out of the way before bringing her blade down as hard as she can, breaking through any barriers that Sanguin thought she had built up. You’ll have to say it, they’re evenly matched.

The adrenaline that must be running through them is fucking nuts. Sanguin swings upward, Annie backs out of the way, bringing her short blade down. Sanguin just barely dodges, but you know that she’s in pain because of her arm. Annie tries to fake her out like she did to Colt, but Sanguin works faster than that. It’s okay, Annie recovers.

As for Marsh and Geare, it’s not as intense. They don’t have problems with each other, not like Sanguin and Annie. All Marsh really has to do is take out Geare before Sanguin somehow gets an upper hand on Annie. Once he’s gone, Sanguin will be too. Her pride is too big for her to just run away from a fight she’s been itching for since she first saw Annie during the bloodbath.

Marsh seems more successful. Geare might have scored a ten, but he’s lazy. Almost like he’s trying not to take it as seriously, as if he could also do this without trying. He can’t, the number that Geare scored was a reach. He too, looks like an eight or nine at most, he fights like it.

Annie keeps pushing, her strength never-ending. She’s got the same amount of stamina that Sanguin has, maybe more. The careers can run for hours on end, but you never saw use in something like that. If they get caught in a fight, they’re going to want to keep going, they don’t want to die. Annie can always go back and forth between running and walking, anyway. It’s not that easy when you’re using a sword, or in this case, a short blade.

Sanguin lets out a shout, moving faster than Annie can catch her. Instead of swinging her weapon, which is no doubt having its way with her arms now, she shoves Annie back hard enough for her to topple over. Annie hits the stream water, creating a wave that briefly reaches into the air, and then it comes all crashing down.

All at once.

Sanguin rolls her wrist, spins toward Marsh and swings. A strangled scream leaves your throat when you cover your mouth. Geare moves out of the way, far back enough for the blade to not even come close to touching him. However, Marsh is unsuspecting, back turned towards Sanguin. He can’t see the blade coming, much less has a reason to think he’s in any sort of danger.

For a second, it’s not as bad as it seems. Sanguin’s blade forces Marsh to his knees with how it hits the back of his legs. But then Geare moves forward, sword over his shoulder, eyes locked on Marsh. The two of them work together seamlessly, it’s almost like they’ve been brainwashed with how their movements are mechanical.

Geare brings his sword down, sword connecting with the side of Marsh’s neck. There’s no way he can defend himself, Annie just has to sit here and watch. Sit here and take it. The blade goes clean through without a struggle. His silver sword, glittering beautifully in the sunlight, has blood all along the blade.

Another cannon blasts.

Where Marshs’ head was before, has now been replaced by a fountain of deep red blood. The body falls forward, legs slanted uncomfortably. The gamemakers show Annie, and you can see she’s on the edge. There’s tears in her eyes, face slowly turning red. She’s no longer sitting, she’s already on her feet, knuckles white from how hard she’s gripping the hilt.

A stand still, you think. Where will they go from here?

Annie launches herself at Geare, completely pissed. He’s already covered in her former district partner’s blood, but with the way she collided with him, it rubs off on her. They struggle, Sanguin trying to grab a hold of her too. Logically speaking, there’s two against one. Annie shouldn’t get the upper hand here.

But Annie didn’t volunteer for the Hunger Games for nothing.

With one hand wrapped around his forehead, yanking it back, stretching his neck so that it’s accessible, the other hand has her blade sheathed. And with no hesitance, because the longer you wait, the bigger the chance of interference, she slits his throat, and shoves his body forward.

Like yesterday, with the bloody freckles across her face, Sanguin gets a face full of blood. She catches him, arms wrapped around him to make sure he gets down comfortably. Annie spins her blade between her fingers, and finishes off Geare, her short blade in the back of his head.

Another cannon. Enobaria and Wade are going home.

Annie places her foot on Geare’s back, pushing him forward while she yanks her sword out. Sanguin can’t handle all the weight, so she falls back, trapping her beneath the dead body. Annie stares down at Sanguin for a moment, breathing heavily. She’s caught in a decision, should she take out the last career, once and for all?

It’ll take away the threat. Four people left inside of the games after Sanguin is gone. But it also goes against her moral dilemma of killing people when it’s not needed. She just needs to do it. Sanguin will keep following her if she doesn’t, Annie doesn’t want to be chased, does she?

She’s shaking, eyes filling with tears, “This is your fault. It’s all your fault.”

Sanguin opens her mouth, eyebrows drawn in. She doesn’t speak, only stares and waits. Annie lifts her sword, taking in a deep breath, and slams the blade right through Geare’s back, and into Sanguin. It doesn’t kill her, but it’ll keep her down.

Annie gathers the backpacks, transfers the goods without a single word, and then scoops up Marsh’s sword, finding a spot for it so she doesn’t have to carry. She takes one last look at Sanguin, and then spits on her. Saliva mixed with blood, it lands on Sanguin’s cheek.

Only three tributes dead, maybe four if Sanguin’s wounds kill her anytime soon. Annie takes off through the trees, straight downhill and towards the village. It’s a shame that it took for Marsh to die for the plans to finally fall through. Either way, she won’t have to worry about Sanguin going after her. She can take her time getting to the village.

“Okay,” You breathe, “Okay, it could be worse.”

“Why didn’t she just kill Sanguin?” Gloss asks.

“Because she doesn’t need to.” Finnick tells him, “Sanguin isn’t a threat to her, and won’t be for a while.”

It’s quiet, you let out a slight laugh, “We know how stupid it sounds. If Annie had the choice of running away from Geare and Sanguin instead of killing Geare, she would’ve just run.”

“Huh.” Gloss hums.

Enobaria no longer needs to talk to the sponsors. You watch as they all let her go, she slowly bids each and every one of them goodbye. When she finally has her back turned to them, she gives you three an eye roll. Enobaria stops a few feet away.

“Insufferable.” She huffs, “Had I known Geare would be dying today, I would've just stuck with you guys. They act like I need the condolences.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t talk to them unless I have to.” Gloss gives her a smile, she glares.

“I’ve got to go tell Wade the news.” She hugs Gloss first, even after what he said, “I’ll see you next year. Good luck.” You're next, she gives an extra squeeze. Finnick gives her a one-armed hug.

“It was good seeing you.” You smile.

“Yeah, whatever—“

Gloss snorts, “I’m sorry for your loss!”

Enobaria flips him off, you all watch as she leaves the betting room. You look at the Line Odds next to see that Annie and Sanguin have moved. Sanguin has gone down to 2-1, probably because Five boy got the jump on her, and Annie was able to match her power. Annie has moved up to 3-1, whereas previously she was 6-1.

Good news, it’s all good news. Annie’s alive, she’s moved up on the odds board. Even if she didn’t kill Sanguin, she at least injured her enough to keep her away. You know for a fact that Sanguin’s going to go running to the cornucopia with her tail between her legs. She’s not going to bother to go after Annie.

For the most part, Annie’s fine. She’s got a scratch here and there from not being able to move out of the way in time, but other than that, she’ll be able to easily overpower Sanguin. Beforehand, Sanguin’s idea of revenge could be supported by her health, now it would be a stupid move. It would be stupid for her to do anything but go home.

“Shouldn’t you be loading up a sponsor?” You ask, looking at Gloss.

“I’m going to let her suffer some. Maybe that’ll make her more humble.”

“I’m pretty sure Annie letting her live was grounding enough.” Finnick mutters, you all laugh.

Annie runs through the trees, she’s almost out of the forest. She’s going faster since it’s all downhill, but the clearing beyond the woods is flat. And the hills will slow her down even more. The problem isn’t so much Sanguin anymore, but the other tributes seeing her. Nine girl, who has her own weapon. The Seven tributes, who are working in a pair.

But as far as you can tell, they're not near the tree line. They seem to be stuck where they are, probably confused about the three cannons. One and two are normal, signifies a small fight, maybe the careers ran into other tributes, or the careers lost one of their own altogether. But three is bigger, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Sanguin is still laying underneath Geare, wincing each time she moves. A moan will leave her mouth when she tries to push him off, the sword blade digging around in her wound. She pants, pauses, and tries again, gritting her teeth. Geare is bigger than her, it’s going to take a moment to get him off of her. She’s probably under some sort of pressure, knowing that everyone is watching, that the gamemakers are waiting to collect the bodies.

She presses her hands against Geare’s shoulders, slowly pushing him off. It’s like peeling a bloody shirt off of a wound, you’ve got to do it slowly if you want little to no pain. All at once is going to hurt like a bitch. However, at the angle she’s going with, it’s probably making things a whole lot worse.

She barely slips out from underneath Geare before he comes crashing back to the ground, sword hitting the dirt next to her. She lets out a groan, fingers finding her stomach. She’s in the same situation that you were in five years ago. Except her wound is all surface, hardly goes that deep. Your entire knife got shoved in, five to six inches, maybe more? Sanguin is going to survive.

She gets to her feet, grabbing her sword. Annie left her nothing, so she’s got to get to the cornucopia before sundown if she wants to be safe. She stands around the area for a couple of seconds longer, looking over Five, Marsh and then Geare. Her face twists angrily, and she shouts.

Sanguin brings her sword up, and then slams it into Geare’s back, “Fuck!”

She leaves, turning the way that she’d come with Geare and Vanilee a day ago, and starts going downhill diagonally. She keeps with this path for a while, a couple of hours, at least. The stream was only three miles off to the right of the cornucopia, with where they had started on the first day, it made it seem a whole lot longer.

Either way, Sanguin makes it to the cornucopia at the same time Annie makes it over the one important hill that’ll hide her from Sanguin. With the village right in front of her, Annie starts running again. The second that she’s stepped foot onto the washed-out soil, she collapses to her knees.

You stand from where you’re sitting with Gloss and Finnick, “Is she hurt?”

“Why would she be?” Gloss asks, he presses his lips together, and then sits up, “I’ve got to send Sanguin some medication. I’ll be back.”

Gloss finds his usual people, always ready on-hand for him to come by so they can send his tributes a gift. They talk for a moment, and then he leads them over to where he’ll confirm and send the sponsor gift.

As for Annie, her hands have curled into fists, body shaking. You’re not sure what’s happening until you’re allowed to hear, just in time for her to gasp and sob, whimpering. She sniffs, slamming her fist into the dirt a couple of times, turning her knuckles red. Annie sits up, staring into the village with bloodshot eyes. She wipes under her eyes and nose, a frown on her face.

The relief that goes through you really is like a wave. She’s not hurt, just grieving for Marsh. It’s natural with tributes that are close to each other. Annie and Marsh have been side by side since the beginning, partners in crime. Losing him was inevitable, they’re so far into the games now. It’s been less than a week and there’s only five left. From here on out, they need to treat the games like they’re almost over.

You take a seat back on the couch, lacing your fingers and leaning forward on your knees. You’re all allowed to watch a split screen of Sanguin receiving her sponsor gift, and Annie pulling herself together enough to find a place to stay for the night. She drags her feet through the dirt, but it’s not deep enough path for a tracker like Sanguin to come around and follow it.

Annie walks for thirty minutes before picking a three-story house. When she walks inside, you can see that the floorboards are rotting, the yellow-flowered wallpaper is curling off the walls, and the staircase on the first floor is missing quite a few steps. Annie doesn’t care, she tightens her grip on her belongings and takes one step at a time. The second floor’s staircase is much sturdier, same for the floors. The walls are just as bad.

She picks a far back room, sets everything down, and rolls out what she’ll need for tonight. With how she’s not unpacking everything, and putting things back after she’s done, Annie doesn’t want to stay where she is. Or she’s keeping everything ready just in case someone does come after her. After today, you can’t blame her, but she’s all by herself inside of the village.

Sanguin sits herself in the grass, carefully pulls her healing cream out of the silver package, disregarding whatever note that Gloss has decided to give her. Speaking of which, he joins you guys back at the couch, sitting on the arm. Sanguin squirts the contents of the tube onto her fingers, and then lifts her shirt for everyone to see.

Not a pretty sight, where the short blade had cut her is a huge gash. Dried blood around it, with how she flexes her stomach when trying to look for herself, more blood surfaces, and runs down her skin. She glares, grits her teeth, and then digs her fingers inside, trying to spread it inside to make the healing process faster. Her face turns a deep shade of red, holding her breath. When she’s done the first time, she lets out a breath of air, recuperates, and then goes again.

It’s six in the evening before anyone in the arena begins to settle down for the night. Annie has made her bed, she eats and drinks water, trying not to cry anymore than she has already today. Sanguin doesn’t have any water, which means that tomorrow she’ll have a decision to make; stay inside of the cornucopia, where she knows it’s safe, or risk going out to get water. You have a feeling that her pride is too much to allow her to just stay inside and be thirsty.

As for Nine girl, where she’s stopped is actually fairly close to where the Seven tributes are. Maybe a mile or so apart, the Seven tributes are at their huts as usual, towards the top of the arena. Nine girl is somewhere in the middle, if she continues traveling up tomorrow, she’ll come across the team easily. For now, she makes a bed of grass and uses her backpack as a pillow.

“I think I’m going back to the apartment.” Finnick says, he yawns and pushes himself up from the couch, “You’ve got it handled?”

“Yeah, of course.” you give him a smile, “I’ll go and get you later. Eat before you go to bed.”

“I can take care of myself.” he says, and then waves to Gloss, “See you later.”

“Bye.” Gloss holds up his hand briefly, and then turns back to the screen.

You get comfortable on the couch, tucking your legs beneath you. Not everyone is turning in for the night in the arena, but they might as well be. Something tells you that there’s not going to be another big event in the arena tonight. You can take it easy, probably even go out to dinner and come back and relax.

“When’s Cashmere supposed to be down here?” you ask, looking over at Gloss.

He hums, “A couple of hours, why?”

“We should all get dinner together before you switch out.”

“Sure.”

Without the weight in your stomach holding you down to the bed this afternoon, you slip out of bed with a yawn. You stretch your arms over your head, dragging your feet to the closet to pick out today’s outfit. Your fingers fumble, still half-asleep and squinting to be able to see properly.

Dark blue jeans, a red tank top, black underwear. You throw it all over your arm as you reach to grab the tennis shoes, not really liking all the other options. You’re actually fairly sure that the last time you wore flats, you got blisters on the back of your feet. It’s hard to focus on your tributes when you’re complaining about the pain in your feet all day.

You throw your clothes onto the bed, as well as the shoes. On the way to the bathroom, you lock your bedroom door to make sure that you’re not going to get any unwanted guests. The shower water is warm almost instantly, but as soon as you’re dipping your fingers inside to double-check--a force of habit--you’re quickly turning the knob to make the water more cold.

Naturally, the Tribute Center has an automatic system that adjusts the heating and AC to make it comfortable for everyone inside. But this afternoon, things are particularly hot. It’s been that way since last night, when you had to shed practically everything to even get your body to a normal temperature. For good measure, you took a second shower, also cold.

It must be some sort of heatwave, thanks to the summer. And the window that you’re dealing with inside of your room probably isn’t helping all that much, either. By allowing the sun rays inside, you’re subsequently signing yourself up for the warmth that comes with it. Unfortunately, the windows don’t really come with blinds, so you just have to put up with it.

You do have to say that the heatwave inside of the Tribute Center is nothing compared to what you deal with at home. You have AC in your victor house, of course, but all the years prior when you’d just have to bear the sweat and flushed faces was like existing in hell. The only way to get away from the heat, if you weren’t swamped with housework via your brothers, was to go down to the beach and sit in the water for a while. But shedding clothes meant sunburns, and sunscreen goes up in price during the summer.

You’ve gotten used to it over the years, as you’ve grown older, you’ve also developed the philosophy of not letting stuff like that get to you anymore. Especially with not how Alyssum is getting older. If you pretend to act like everything is just fine with the heat, eventually she’ll have to stop complaining when she realizes that no one relates to her mundane problem.

However, shirts sticking to your back, using folders as fans and the irritating feeling of sweat rolling down your skin isn’t always ignorable. At least she doesn’t have to deal with you, Reed and Mox telling her that she should’ve felt what it was like to live in the shack for all these years. There’s been a silent agreement not to compare the previous living situation to the one you have now. It’s not her fault she’s living the way she is now. Plus, you think that you’d rather save those stories for when you’re old and wrinkly.

The cold water feels nice on your skin for a while, until it begins to make you cold. You step out, tie your hair out of your face and get dressed. Looking in the mirror today, there’s definitely a difference on your face. You’re not as sullen, yesterday it almost looked like someone told you that your dog died. Might as well have, Marsh is gone, and he’s not coming back.

Marsh placed seventh, with a final Line Odd of 6-1. He scored a nine on his training score, he had the Capitol in tears during his interview. He’s memorable, especially with the way that he went charging toward the careers. His intention might not have been to save Five boy, but it was still noble to face them head-on. You can only hope that none of this is in vain, that Annie will survive.

You get dressed, place your ring on your finger and hurry out to the dining room. It’s almost one already, and you haven’t even eaten yet. Dread isn’t the only thing that can ball and chain you to a bed, worry is pretty good at it too. Even better when you don’t fall asleep until late in the morning.

You shouldn’t be stressing yourself out like this, Annie is fine. She’s in the village, far away from Sanguin, who’s still injured, as far as you know. All the tributes that she would have had to worry about before are now miles away from where she is now. Hell, Sanguin would have to walk hours up and down hills just to get to Annie. And then what? Annie would be able to defend herself.

The tv is already on when you get out there, which makes you think that the avoxes had done it so that you wouldn’t have to ask today, until you see that Elysia is sitting at the table. There’s a mug in her hand, it has coffee in it, you don’t even have to pretend like you don’t know. It might be the afternoon, but she takes in caffeine like it’s an alcohol addiction.

“Hey.” you say, making her look up.

She raises her eyebrows, a smile crossing her face, “Good afternoon. How are you holding up?”

“Could be a lot worse, Annie’s a survivor.” you sit at the table, watching as cold cut sandwiches, fizzy beverages and potato chips are placed on the table. It’s not much of a fancy feast, the Capitol does this sometimes when it’s a casual afternoon.

“I’d say.” Elysia looks over to the tv.

You look over too, it’s focused on Annie at the moment. It looks like she’s finally unpacked her things, but she hasn’t moved from the back corner. Sanguin, Geare and Vanilee’s bed rolls are placed inside of each other. It’s a good way to keep warmth and make it a little comfortable.

Food, knives, water are spread around her. She won’t be needing water refills anytime soon, she’s inherited all the dead tributes’ water jugs. You think that if she drinks enough to keep her body going, she’ll have enough to last her a week, maybe two if she really tests her limits.

She’s sitting in the corner of the room, legs to her chest, arms wrapped around them to keep them from slipping. Her hair is messy, eyes bloodshot, bags beneath her eyes. She didn’t sleep at all last night, there’s no question about it. But at least all the scratches and cuts that were inflicted have healed. She applied the medication last night before she laid down to sleep.

You sat down in the betting room for a while with just Gloss. As soon as Cashmere came around, you kept to your idea and went out to dinner with them. It wasn’t anywhere fancy, you didn’t even bother to get a private room to eat at. It was a soup and bread place, you stayed as long as you could before Gloss fell asleep on the table.

It was nice catching up with Cashmere, she said that she’d seen Enobaria and Wade just before they left for the train. Wade was reasonably upset, but Enobaria didn’t even look phased. In fact, Cashmere leaned across the table and whispered; “Enobaria says that she hopes Annie wins.” You’re glad you have these guys as your friends, even if they have to go home, there’s no malicious intent.

They’re your best friends, through and through.

After dinner, Gloss went back to his apartment, and you were left with Cashmere for a little while. You caught her up on a lot that’s happened inside of the arena, your opinions, how you guys hung around Cecelia for a while. Cashmere agreed that Sanguin’s experience with Annie was probably enough to bring her back to reality. They’re teenagers, tributes in the Hunger Games, they can’t control anything, much less try and play god.

As soon as the first conversation was over, Cashmere started a second one about Finnick. Which made you groan with a, “It’s not that important, Cash.” But she wouldn’t let it go until you answered her questions. She hasn’t been able to ask you all the juicy details in private like she’s really wanted to.

There’s not much to tell. You let her know that Finnick was asking about you to Gloss while you weren’t there yesterday. And the night before you spent hours talking on the balcony after Bauhinia died. The two of you came to the conclusion that Finnick is deciding that he’s going to stay for a while--which you’d partially come up with by yourself yesterday.

Cashmere said it was a good sign, good for you when it comes to mentoring and the boarding school. You can finally chill out and be there for Alyssum more after school instead of relying on Reed and Mox to take care of her all the time, “You don’t want to be the absent older sister, trust me.” She’s right, it would be a shame to be so focused on saving other teenagers in District four, and completely miss out on Alyssum’s innocence while she still has it. A couple more years and she’s enrolling into the boarding school early.

After that was over, you went ahead and got Finnick before you would be too exhausted to get up this morning. Your attempts were, obviously, futile, as you hardly slept last night and you’re tired anyway. Finnick’s lucky you’re reliable, otherwise you would have considered staying in bed for a little while longer. What ruined that idea is the sweltering heat of the fucking Tribute Center.

And since the betting room is quite literally under a glass roof, you can’t imagine that it’s very cold in there, either. In fact, you’re sure that it’s going to be worse. Which now makes you partially consider changing into a pair of shorts so you’re not stuck sweating the entire day. The tank top is nice, but it only brings you so far.

Ugh.

Sanguin is up and at it already, heading towards the woods in the direction of the stream. Figures that she wouldn’t wait a little while to give herself time to heal. She’s always on top of it, always moving. A part of you wonders if she put on healing cream as soon as she got up this morning, or if she’s waiting to do it later tonight.

Either way, she’s got a full backpack again, her sword is propped up against her shoulder with the blade flat. Exactly how she’d carried it before she went and murdered the boy from Three. To think that was only two days ago is fucking insane, it feels like forever. But you guess that’s just what happens when you get back to back days of absolute mayhem.

The Seven tributes are wandering around, heading into their own personal uncharted territory of the left side. Well, actually there’s a lot where they haven’t been before, always keeping to their safe bubble. It’s not a bad strategy, but they can get away with it for so long. The gamemakers don’t like comfortable. Comfortable means you need to be pushed outside of your boundaries and experience new things.

As for Nine girl, you think she’s unintentionally stalking the District Seven tributes, with how she’s trailing them. She could very well be tracking, but the path that Seven is leaving isn’t all that obvious. It’s too obvious to be a coincidence, maybe she’s just trying to play it off that way? Or see where District Seven leads her? You’re surprised she isn’t cloud watching today. She’s sitting pretty, does she really need to follow the other tributes around?

You eat your sandwiches, watching the tributes move around inside of the arena. Annie stays put, Sanguin gets closer to the stream, Seven is nearly in the section all the way off to the left. When you’re done eating, you have the avoxes pack up some sandwiches for your friends inside of the betting room, and get ready to go.

You take one step towards the door, before you’re stuck where you are, watching what’s unfolding on the screen.

Uncharted territory can be dangerous for obvious reasons. The tributes don’t know what they’re heading into, which means that they don’t know what to expect. Foreign animals, plants, traps set up by the gamemakers to ensure a pleasant surprise. Heading off into the unknown means that you’re expecting unpredictable situations. Anything can happen the moment you’re no longer in your safe space.

Because of this, it’s important to keep a schedule. Let the gamemakers come to you, they’ll be playing on your side of the court for this reason. But walk right into what they want, you’re subjected to their own house of horrors. And the only way of making it out alive, is fighting for freedom, or hoping your counterpart isn’t as good as you are.

The gamemakers hardly ever allow both tributes live. If they did that, it would take away the entire entertainment aspect. Not allow the Capitol people to see tributes like Annie fall apart at the seams because she doesn’t have her best friend around her anymore. You’re not sure what’s so fun about a depressed, sleep-deprived teenager but… to each their own.

Seven girl is leading, with the male tribute just behind her. Everything appears to be just fine, there’s no visual signs that they’re about to be submerged into frigid waters. Then they’re warned, a howl loud and clear, telling them to turn back and go away now, before they continue to make the mistake that they’re working on.

Maybe the tributes don’t hear the wolves, maybe they’re so caught up in their own heads that the silence breaking doesn’t register. Or maybe they choose to ignore it, because it’s a couple of wolves, and animals tend to run away once they realize that there’s something much bigger trying to challenge them. Because of their blatant obliviousness, they’ve fucked themselves over.

They’re not any ordinary wolves. They’re Capitol-made and controlled mutts.

The first one breaks through the trees, huge, black, eyes belonging to the devil himself. The girl catches sight of the genetically mutated mutts, comes to a complete stop, and then spins herself around. She takes off running, grabbing onto her district partners arm, snapping him out of his daydreaming daze, bringing him right back to reality.

They run together, arms pumping at their sides. The boy doesn’t care what path he takes, through thickets, thorns, and between trees that shouldn’t be possible to squeeze past. The girl however, is more careful about where she goes, thinking that it’ll help her move quickly, knowing where she’s stepping and that the path is definitely clear. It’s working the other way around. For once, a lack of carelessness is going to be the downfall of a tribute.

She falls behind, the wolves gaining on them both more and more. The pounding of their paws against the dirt is loud enough for the Capitol cameras to pick up. Like a heartbeat, a steady thrum against the ground. It’s also a telling sign that the Seven girl needs to give up her act or accept her death.

It’s frustrating, especially since she doesn’t even seem to notice her mistakes. One of the first rules of being chased is always being aware of how close they are. She doesn’t have to do it by looking behind her, which is always a mistake the idiots seem to make. She can just hear the footsteps all by themselves, getting louder and louder. Doesn’t she have any will to live?

If she does, she doesn’t get a chance to prove it. The lead wolf uses its hindlegs to launch itself at her. It’s mouth unhinges like a python snake, revealing rows of sharp teeth, drool coming out as a long string. It pounces on Seven girl, snarling, and bites straight into the back of her neck. The screaming is loud, you wince and sit back down at the dining room table.

The wolves around the leader continue after Seven boy, which comes as a fair surprise to you. But then again, the girl isn’t necessarily dead just yet. As soon as that cannon goes off, it’s like a whistle to the dogs. They’ll all go back to whatever hell hole they crawled out of. They might even be used a different year, for the exact same purpose that they’re serving now.

The leader bites down, and whips its head to the side. A mouthful of flesh rips out of the girl, her scream loud enough to be heard as a warning to both Seven boy, and Nine girl. Run, and run fast if you want to survive. The blood coats the tree bark around the girl, drips off the flesh that was previously attached to her body. Her hands twitch, eyes open and rolling to the back of her head.

It’s more or less the same situation that Bauhinia was in. But instead of it being done by another tribute, which will definitely leave a permanent impression on mentors and future tributes alike, this is being done by a mutt. The Capitol has specifically engineered these guys to do this. Bite, rip, rinse, repeat. Seven girl’s screams start off loud, but slowly die out like she’s lost her voice.

The next wolf that is leading on Seven boy, jumps at him just like the last wolf did to Seven girl. However this time, instead of all the other surrounding wolves continuing forward, they swarm and maul the boy. Their teeth are just as sharp, but without all the rows. You’d say that his situation is better, but he’s got more mutts going at him from different angles, with no time to breathe in between bites.

By the time that Seven girl does die, allowing the wolves to go home, the boy is severely hurt. Puncture wounds from the teeth, shredded skin, half his face is missing. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a noise. He just lays in the grass like he’s already dead, the only thing keeping him from being collected by the gamemakers like his district partner, is the cannon.

He’s a living soul in his corpse of a body.

It’s like sleep paralysis. He can’t speak, can’t move. He’s stuck where he is, like a suffering dog that just needs to be put out of his misery. But there’s no one to do it. You all will just get the pleasure of watching this poor boy wheeze and bleed. Doesn’t mean much for entertainment, his life is practically over.

The only tribute that’s nearby is Nine girl. But there’s no promise that she was following the Seven tributes in the first place. It looked like it, now you’ll just have to wait and see if it was true. This could take hours, and she has a bigger chance of accidentally missing him than stumbling upon him in the bushes. It’s not like he’s being loud.

You stand up from the table again, “I’ve got to get downstairs before anything else happens.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

You go down the steps and through the door. You punch the elevator button, head down to where the betting room is, bad quietly walk down the hallway. It’s all barren cement, no one hangs out here, and the peacekeepers standing outside of the door are required. Just in case a few mentors get too upset, because the Capitol people hardly ever care about rivalries.

The moment you open the door, a cool breeze hits your face. No wonder why the Tribute Center is so hot, the betting room is hogging all of the air conditioning. The glass ceiling is now blocked by a white cover to reflect the sun and ensure that you all won’t be sweating like pigs. Because of the cover, it’s dark, which is why there’s colored lights strung up on hooks. Almost like Christmas lights, but somehow less fun and more sophisticated.

Finnick and Gloss are already sitting at a white table, so you head over and drop the basket of food in the middle.

“Did you see what happened?” Finnick asks, watching as you unload the basket.

“Yeah, Elysia and I watched it together.” You then move the basket off the table and onto the floor, sitting down and crossing your legs, “I guess the gamemakers were bored.”

“Or they have a vendetta against the Seven mentors.” Gloss cocks his head in the direction of where they’re standing off to the side. Arms crossed, angry faces. They’ve been screwed over, you can’t really blame them. Their tributes couldn’t even defend themselves, “Thanks for the lunch.”

“Figured you guys were hungry.” you look at Finnick, “What are you making of Annie?”

He shrugs, uncapping the bottled fizzy drink, “Well, besides the obvious fact that she’s some form of depressed, I think she’s in shock. How long did her and Marsh know each other?”

“They were only a year apart. So, since Annie was fourteen and he was thirteen.”

“Four years.” Gloss says, “A long time to build a friendship. What about you and Finnick, how long did you two know each other prior to your Hunger Games? I remember you guys being mentioned as friends at some point.”

You make a face, not entirely sure, “Well, I was a sophomore and he was a freshman…”

“Middle school?” Finnick proposes, but he doesn’t look confident either, “Only a year or whatever. We mostly saw each other in the hallway, and then it went on from that after my girlfriend dumped me.”

“Which one?” you ask, half-kidding, half-serious.

Finnick gives you a look, “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember which girlfriend?” Gloss asks.

You snort, “He has brain damage from all the girls he’s gone through. I can name fifteen he went through while we were just friends.”

“It was not fifteen!” Finnick defends, face turning a shade of red, “Probably only five or something.”

“Probably.” Gloss has a smile on his face, clearly enjoying Finnick’s discomfort.

“Finnick, just trust me for once when I say that it was fifteen.” You muse.

“Except there weren’t fifteen girls in my class that liked me like that. I should know.”

You and Gloss share a look, and then laugh. He wouldn’t know, it’s not always obvious when girls have crushes on people. Girls learn to hide it when the guy or girl they like is after someone else in that moment. You wouldn’t be surprised if his entire grade of girls had liked him, and only a quarter of them showed it. Finnick thinking that he’s aware of everything is a complete joke.

The Afternoon Line Odds say that all the remaining tributes are standing where they were yesterday. There’s only four tributes inside of the games, about to be three as soon as Seven boy is gone. Annie, Sanguin and Nine girl, who you really need to find a name for to make it all easier to say.

“Do you guys know the name of the girl from Nine?” you ask, running a hand through your hair for any snarls that might exist in your ponytail.

Gloss’ face scrunches up, eyes finding the Line Odds too, “Uh…”

Finnick tilts his head from side to side, also thinking. They’re just as clueless as you are. You can’t even remember if anyone mentioned her name outside of the training score and interviews. Everyone normally stops paying attention after District Four, for obvious reasons. No one can really compare. The only person you think would know her name is Annie, mostly because she likes to keep track of stuff like that.

It’s not like you can really ask her. And you can’t really pull a name out of thin air, anyway. When it comes to the districts, you guys have ridiculous names just as much as people in the Capitol do. Gloss? Cashmere? Enobaria? What about Anchor and Marsh? Even Sanguin’s name isn’t really a name. It’s an adjective, based off the word sanguine, which means positivity or something dumb like that.

Of course, this philosophy can’t apply to everyone. Finnick’s name is normal, so is Mags, Luther, Scotch, Wade and Cecelia. It only really falls apart when it comes to last names, like Gallows or Golding. At some time or another, you all came from the Capitol, or you great grandparents changed their last names to make them more fierce during the rebellion. That last part is especially true when it comes to your family.

You don’t remember the original last name, just that Gallows wasn’t inherited through a husband. Your great-grandmother had changed it after the nickname she got from the people around her in District Four. She was in on the plan before the rebellion had even started, and got a head start when it came to taking out peacekeepers and Capitol officers in the district. It was suspicious after a while, how every single one of them committed suicide the same way, one by one. After all the known Capitol people were gone, she was onto traitors, and she was good at finding them.

Hanging people from rope relates to the gallows. However, after the rebellion failed, she wasn’t able to go back to her regular life. With the conspicuous last name, and the way that people would talk when she came around, her position was found quickly. She was a wanted woman inside of District Four by high-standing officers. By then, she’d already birthed your grandmother, who was being held at someone else’s house during the day, and went unfound by the peacekeepers when they went looking to wipe out your family.

Your great-grandparents died, as well as any of their siblings, grandchildren, cousins, whatever. The only person left was your grandmother, who got sent into the foster care system with the last name still attached. And since there was no family to help her revert back to the original last name, she just kept Gallows out of spite. What are the peacekeepers going to do eighteen years after the fact? Kill her? She was a baby when it happened, wouldn’t even be able to recall the details, much less looked like she had an inkling to continue her mother’s murder path.

It’s a fun story to tell to the older kids, you know that your brothers enjoyed it when they got to exaggerate every little detail and add in facts of their own. As you got older, they filtered out the bullshit to make it more believable. Even now, the entire story seems like it’s out of some dark fairytale or something. With no happy ending.

“I think it starts with a T.” Finnick says.

“Huh?” you ask, looking at him.

“The girl’s name.”

“I think you’re right!” Gloss says, he’s rubbing his forehead, “What the fuck was it?”

“Something stupid that ended in a vowel.”

“That starts with a T?” your face twists.

Finnick hums for a moment, listening as Gloss tries out names. Then, Finnick’s face lights up entirely, slamming his hands on the table, “Tekla!”

“Tekla?” Gloss pauses for a moment, “Oh fuck, you’re right.”

You nod slowly, taking their word for it. So, Seven boy, Tekla, Sanguin and Annie. The boy dies, it only leaves the three girls. What an accomplishment, to completely unintentionally wipe out the guys. You don’t want to say that they’re a bigger opponent, but they typically have an upper hand when it comes to fighting. It’s like they’ve been taking drugs.

Finnick and Gloss eat their lunch, you all come down with your final predictions on what’s going to happen inside of the arena. You all think that Sanguin and Annie will be fine, since they’re miles apart and both caught in their own worlds at the moment. The real problem is Tekla and her moving around so often. She knows that Sanguin is alone in the cornucopia by herself, and she also knows that she could sneak up on Sanguin since she has a weapon of her own. Courtesy of when the careers had left the cornucopia alone.

Seven boy is still alive an hour and a half later. Tekla has slowed down in the direction she was heading. She doesn’t look unsure, more that she’s lost motivation, you guess? Or maybe she’s lost the path that the Seven tributes were taking before they stumbled into the Capitol trap. Either way, there’s no telling whether or not she’ll actually be able to find the boy.

Every time you think that the boy has finally breathed for the final time, he inhales sharply, like he’s being pushed back into his body. It’s a shame, watching him struggle like this. You’re sure that he should be dead by now, well past his expiration date. Hell, soon the bugs are going to start to get to him. If you thought the wolves were bad, watching him being eaten alive is going to be worse. Much, much worse.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” Gloss says, gathering the trash, “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t have too much fun.” you smile, he gives you a mock look before leaving. You turn to Finnick, “I’m thinking of going out and drinking after this. You wanna come?”

“With or without Gloss?” Finnick asks, eyebrows drawing in.

“If it were with Gloss, I would’ve asked while he was here.” you wiggle your eyebrows, “Come on. Me and you, at that awful drinking place, The Victory Speech.”

He purses his lips, “You think it’s a good idea?”

“Annie’s safe inside of her house, what’s the worst that can happen overnight?”

“The dam breaks?”

“You think that the Capitol would do that right after mauling two tributes to death?” you look at the timer above the Morning Line Odds that says how long the tributes have been in there for. It’s a couple hours less than seven days, “The games haven’t been even going for a week, they’ll want to draw it out for a little while longer.”

Finnick gives you a look.

“Don’t start acting like a parent, I’m older than you.” you point at him, “Yes or no. Or I’ll ask Gloss and Cashmere--”

“Yes.” Finnick says.

You grin, “You won’t have some sort of relapse, right?”

“Haha.” he rolls his eyes, “Ready to get shitfaced off the water-tasting alcohol?”

“I am going to have three of those in a row just to see what happens.” you laugh, he does too.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’ll give yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“I’ll probably be fine.” You shrug, “Won’t be my first near-death experience.”

Finnick cracks up, shaking his head.

It’s only another thirty minutes before Tekla does come across Seven boy by accident. She wouldn’t have even known he was there if it weren’t for the wheeze he let out as a warning before she stepped on him. He’s hidden under bushes, camouflaged in. The only obvious sign that he’s there is his legs, but even then, they were easily missed by Tekla.

She stands over him, eyebrows drawn in. Her eyes will occasionally flicker up like she’s looking for someone, like it’s some sort of trap and a tribute is waiting for her to be off her guard to attack. Unfortunately, it’s none of those things. Just bad luck, and horrible timing. She crouches down next to him, face twisting as she carefully moves leaves out of the way to see him properly.

“Gross.” she says, “I don’t even know how you’re still alive.” Tekla shakes her head like she’s getting rid of her thoughts, standing back up on her feet, “It’s over now. Rest easy.”

She raises her weapon and puts him out of his misery. A second cannon goes off, making Sanguin stop in her tracks, looking up at the sky for a moment. The Fallen won’t show until later tonight, but the tributes all have the same reactions, anyway. It’s because the sound comes from above them, so naturally they’re going to want to see where it comes from.

As for Annie, she barely snaps back to life long enough to squint, allow wrinkles to appear on her face, and then she relaxes again. She sets her head back against the wall and closes her eyes, gripping onto her sword tightly. You wonder if she came to the conclusion that she’s one of the final three inside of the arena now. Annie’s made it, she’s beaten all the tributes from District Four that came before her.

Hang in there, Annie. You’ll be home soon.

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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normieexclusive · 5 years ago

Text

How My MC wins the boys over:

Ah, um, this really went off from the original story line. This was also supposed to be a short simple thing but then I started thinking and two hours later Im left with a bunch of messy notes and thoughts

The first to fall victim is:

Mammon turns out to be easy, literally MC just shows him an ounce of kindness and he takes it and runs.

Unconsciously MC gets much softer around him then the others (A combination of total trust in him and wanting to show how much love he deserves despite his brothers treating him harshly)

hes the one that gets the most kisses, the most hugs, and its great for them at first because they get to make fun of the dumb ass second born getting doted on but some silly little human and (while denying it constantly) loving it.

But then the others start to actually like MC and Mammon can nearly feel the six pairs of eyes glaring him down as his Human showers him with all the affection before going about their day.

(There’s one moment where, while Mammons sitting on the floor and MC is on the bed and he's making fun of one of his brothers that MC just grabs him by the back of his shirt collar- with only a finger- pulls him in between her legs (So his back is to her) and gives him a kiss on the top of his head as she coos "Mammon, be nice to your brothers" and he shuts down for the rest of the day)

Second, but the bestest of friends!:

With Levi its by being a grade A nerd and overthinking.

She reads all of TSL for their big quiz, and watches the movies with Beel and mammon, but on top of that the nerd goes back to the books and starts to annotate everything.

She starts digging for any bit of subtext she can find and jotting down notes in the margins, in her notebook, on sticky notes.

It becomes enough of an issue that she has to buy a new set because the first (Old and used) ones she got off of akuzon are ruined with her messy scrawling.

During the quiz they are evenly matched (if only because shes given such easy questions. Shes pissed but at the same time oh gosh she is really not up to Levis level) and somewhere along the way she just... Goes off about this theory of hers and reading the subtext because she needs to get this out and it seems like Levis the only one that can really keep up with her

(She tried to talk to Mammon and Beel but, honestly, they're as helpful as you'd think)

She forgets about the whole quiz and yanks out her vandalized book in order to debate with Levi about a part. Levi is horrified at the state of her TSL book and nearly goes apeshit right there, but then she shows just how much of a nerd she truly is by showing him the much nicer version she brought along

("And its even signed! Can you believe that! I didn't order a signed one cause they were too expensive but somehow the boxes must have gotten switched up! Ah! Levi! You have a shrine in you're room for them right! You should have these copies, I think you'll take more care of them then I can!")

Whenever they have a conversation its gibberish to everyone around them but they get it and that’s what matters.

(They spend nights just in his room and no one knows what they're doing so they assume the worst. The others always send Levi dirty looks when it happens, and Levi always looks a little more refreshed after every one.

They're having anime/gaming/TSL marathons but Levi lives for the jealousy that rolls off his brothers so hes not telling them anytime soon)

Somewhere starting after her pact with Levi and after the Lucifer/Satan Body switch:

The whole fiasco with Levi actually leads to Satan warming up to her!

He had initially brushed her off as a soon to be Lucifer Lapdog (and also kind of dumb) but now he's interested.

Someone whos capable of dissecting a book like that has to at least have some ability to reason, he just cant figure out if that moment was a fluke or if shes actually smart.

He refuses to start a conversation with her like a normal person and instead resorts to pranking her at every opportunity hoping to see if she’ll think her way out of it (He does leave some hints for when ones about to happen, but gets frustrated when she walks right past them)

It backfires on him tremendously because, somehow, they never seem to work! it goes to the point where it becomes rube goldberg levels of pranks that are always almost-but-not-quite misses because she bent down at just the right time to pick up a shiny rock.

Satan is at his wits end and ready to rip someone apart

his pranks start to extend to the others, it’s only after mammon mentions such that it finally clicks in her...

That same day she willingly walks into a pie in the face and Satan nearly cries.

After he starts to rile her up more often with words. He learns very quickly that she is a fantastic debate partner and, if he can find the right button to push, he’ll get her going for hours as they go back and forth

(And!! Even better!! Not only does she listen to everything he says and waits her turn! But Shes willing to change her opinion when she thinks he has a better point. When she loses She’ll come back hours later to drag more information out of him.

That’s usually not the case though, because Satan finds way too much enjoyment out of playing devils advocate and will simply choose whatever is opposition her POV.

He tried to argue about how she couldn't possibly like a flavor of candy she was eating because he didn't like it and nearly gave her an aneurysm)

(To his complete embarrassment, though, he has gotten hard during one of their debates and nearly lost because she looked fucking amazing as she shouted at him)

A bond that starts right at their first meeting and grows throughout her entire time there:

Beel is scary at first, and Lucifer- for some forsaken reason- made it her job to make sure Beel doesn't clean out the fridge every single day.

Shes scared of the man that seemed more then willing to eat her, but shes more scared of whatever punishment Lucifer would deal if she didn't at least try.

So she goes

It only takes her one run in with Beel and his puppy dog eyes (Because how could she just stop him like that!! How awful of her!!) for her to figure out that

A: this man is harmless and...

B:she knows what hunger pains feel like and the guilt wells up

Still she knows she can let him go so she spends her grimm allowance on buying ingredients to cook with and makes him huge meals as "offerings"

It doesn't always stop him from eating half the fridge, but sometimes it seems like he's willing to actually savor what she makes.

It gives her enough time to save the ingredients for dinner that night. (and If Beel sometimes wanders over to the kitchen while shes watching so shell make something for him, well there’s no harm done

The bastard pavlov dogged her and shes none the wiser)

Slow and steady, the pieces fall into place naturally:

Asmo turns out to be another easy one, to her shock.

Even with MCs jealousy over how stunning Amso looks and how easy it is for him... they just seem to drift to each other

Starts with a comment on Asmos sharp eyeliner one day, and Asmo asking MC what shampoo she uses.

Then the next day the same brand shampoo (And conditioner) will be left outside his door. And after MC will walk into the bathroom first thing in the morning only to wonder whom the fuck applied eyeliner to her in her sleep

It starts with days where they greet each other in the morning, to Stopping to chat for a few moments before heading on with their morning routine, to them walking down together, to Asmo fussing over her disheveled look after just waking up ‘-seriously Asmo not everyone can just roll out of bed like some Demons and look stunning’ - to ‘MC move over a scooch I need more room’ ‘Asmodeus this is my bed’ ‘Well how are we both supposed to fit when its so small!’, to weekly spa days and Gossiping about the others.

Its such an smooth transition that they both feel like it had always been as it was- two friends whispering secrets to each other late at night, pinky promises made over arbitrary things, laying so close that they can feel the others breathing. If maybe he leaned in a little closer they would--

--Oh... She fell asleep again.

And he curls up next to her, blanket wrapped around both of them (That is, until Asmo hogs it later) and sleeps peacefully

A build up of trust, and a moment of venerability that finally knocks down his walls:

Swallows her pride for Lucifer

Its hard to explain in words for her, but she tells him of her family.

A family that is good but dosnt care, that used to leave her alone for hours on end when she was far too young. She says it with a smile too, admits that it helped her become as independent as she was, that she could cook for herself before she was 10.

She tells him of her younger brother. Someone she tried her best to love as much as she could only for him to, one day, just stop talking to her. Years trying to build back an abruptly cut connection only for him to snap one day and change his tune to something much worse. A family that watched as he screamed at her, berated her and never did anything. How she still stood tall, how she swallowed back every tear and tried to talk to him with a steady voice- only for him to become angrier.

How, when he did try to snap at other members, she was always there to stand between them. How she was the one to chase him off or take the yelling despite her family never doing the same for her. How she was the stable rock of the family where no one was for her.

Physical violence was only once, but it was enough for her to know things would never change.

She was like him in a way, same but different.

and She cant bear to see the same thing happen to him.

She wants to help, she knows shes just a little, useless human but please she needs to help. She cant bare leaving another broken family behind without helping. Her life had been stagnate before them, unbearably lonely, and she just wants them to be happy, even if that means without her

even if it means she has to shove her nose where it doesn't belong

So... please... Please... Talk to Belphie. Please. He said he just wants to tal--

(She had earned Lucifer's respect not too long ago, and - to everyone's shock- the revel of what she came upon does not bring upon Lucifer's fury. Instead, he feels a deep understanding that he’ll never say aloud

Shes still going to get lectured, though. But he is too.)

It takes time:

Spends what probably amounted to most of her time in Devildom with that little fu--

(No, No. Belphie needs help, she needs to reel it in for now.)

She gets what it means to be lonely. Despite her distrust of the man who caged up in a place where the bad people are, you know, supposed to be caged up and tutored feels like she needs to do something- if only to make sure he doesn't lose his mind from the isolation.

(Rethinks a lot of her life and how she spent just hiding away from everything. How she would lock her door and never come out unless the sounds of another fight reached her. Thought about how it probably messed her up more then shes willing to admit and refuses to let the same thing happen to him

Oh sweet summer child)

Less trusting of him when its reviled that hes the seventh born, but more willing to help. If only for Beels sake

Brings stuff up to his room, a toy, a fluffy blanket, food that she snagged last minute. He complains hes cold one day and she yanks off her own sweater for him

(It all gets flushed down the toilet when she leaves, he scrubs his skin raw thinking about how his room smells disgustingly like that fucking human now)

And then, one day, it just... changes:

A human stands between him and the fucker that locked him up in there, his brothers that never knew he was there. All of them watching him with such pity in their eyes and he didnt want it- he didnt want their p-

The door was unlocked.

He was free.

Just like that.

it made no sense. He learns that they-- She-- spent hours dancing around Diavolo, deals were made. A room where it was just her and The Prince of Hell, promises not even Lucifer knew (And some part of Belphie relished in the fact that it was eating away at the fucker)

("All those hours shouting at each other paid off” She looks to Satan with a smile. A joke he was not privy to. Lucifer huffed but said nothing.

How much had changed since he was locked up?)

A slow, downward spiral

They're never alone, someone is always with her or with him (Beel sticks to his side like glue. after so long he finally gets to sleep next to his brother again)

He finds food in the fridge with the words “For Beel <3″ in this awful chicken scratch handwriting. Mammon’s screaming interrupts his naps one day and he wakes up to see her smothering the second born in kisses. Her shouting wakes him up as her and Satan pass, her voice becoming high pitched as they argue about... the number of toes humans are supposed to have???? (she sits down next to him and rips off her shoes in a fit of rage, demanding that Belphie count with her because what the fuck-

Satan sneers at her feet and tells the only actual toes are her two big ones, the rest are just digits.)

There’s traces of her everywhere. Layers of clothing haphazardly thrown about after a day at RAD and then neatly placed away. A mention of her name at the dinner table before shes there. Not even his and beels room is safe from her- he can smell her scent on Beels pillow. Faint, but a awful reminder of the human down the hall.

He hates it, he wants to throw it all away. He wants to erase her memory from his home, he wants to ripe her apa--

A blanket is draped over him one day, and he cant bring himself to open his eyes to see who did it...

She talks to him, Or more like at him. The longer he stays freed the harder is it to hide his distaste towards Humanity and- especially- to her. He thinks shes dense, because he knows his brothers sense there’s something wrong (Levis tail wraps around her when hes too close, Lucifer stands between them, Amso pulls her by the waist. Close to him, further from belphie) But she doesn't. She pushes closer. She asks him questions.

She never touches him, one small blessing in Hell.

Beel believes him when he bashfully admits one night that he may start to enjoy his time spent with human. And for a moment he feels guilty about the lie but its all for a greater goal

When its just the three of them, Beel leaves for a moment too long. To get snacks, to grab something from another room, it doesn't matter. This was the moment he waited for.

She smiles at him, all kind and gentle (And the words that leave her lips are unheard through the blood rushing through his ears) and leans forward

He puts his hands around her neck

She goes limp.

He-

He needed to-

He couldn’t squeeze.

Beel comes back with the biggest grin on his face, arms full of snacks (”Here MC I got your favorite”) He sits on the opposite side of Belphie, leaning into him with enough weight that his own shoulder presses against MCs, mushing her against the wall.

Despite her smile he can feel her shaking.

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nyanzaya · 4 years ago

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Ok so I had a REALLY weird dream recently so I’ll send this first ask as like the set up because it’s rlly long. 1/2?

(This involves Neko!Izaya so I thought you’d like to hear about it first) So background information first; for some reason I’m like “piloting” Izayas body. I’m making his decisions sort of??? I only found out when I walked past a mirror and everyone kept referring to me as Izaya (Prolly because I lined him back in middle school lol) and the fact that the other characters CLEARLY did not like the fact that I was still breathing. There’s a lot to unpack so I’m gonna be formatting this in a bulletin point way that’s in chronological order.

- So Izaya and a BUNCH of other DRRR!!characters are staying in this weird group of cabins in the shape of an upside down U, with a road heading into town. Starts off as a dirt/gravel road that goes into pavement. You know the ones.

- So Izaya/I am staying in this cabin building at the very end of the U on the left side. (Since this U kinda warps around the road into town) Across the road is one of the main “Bathrooms”. It’s got the showers while each cabin has like one of its own bathrooms. (This has meaning I promise)

- Within the cabin Izaya/I am staying in there’s at least three rooms. Shinra was in the next door over, while Shingen was in the room at the end of the hall. I saw him go back there once and never saw him a again for the duration of the dream. (So we’ll just call this the Kishitani cabin)

- The bathrooms across the road from The Kishitani cabin is shared with the neighboring cabin. The neighboring cabin was MUCH bigger but also had more people in it. So there was two to a room there, while in The Kishitani cabin we each got our own room. (Which when I first found this out the first thing that came to mind was “what a bunch of losers” lol)

- Shizuo Heiwajima was a resident in the neighboring cabin. Which means we have to share a bathroom w/ him :) (this is actually very unfortunate later on) His cabin contains the Van Gang (didn’t see a lot of them only glimpses), as well as Namie, her brother, and his gf Mika. I had a feeling that Namie was supposed to be staying in the Kishitani cabin, but left because,,,,, brother,,, ig)

- Nobody knows about Neko!Izaya yet, only Shinra and Shingen. And Izaya is hiding as a human VERY well (for now). We get kinda Fucked Up™️ later on too.

A finishing side note for now is that the weather outside is fucking FREEZING. There’s snow and ice slush everywhere, and the air is that really dry cold that burns your nose and lungs when you breathe. There would also be these gusts of really cold wind that would freeze the sides of the pine trees, so there wasn’t snow on TOP of them bist there was snow plastered to the SIDE of them. So right now we’re stuck in cold winter hellscape. Also I don’t know where Celty is, but Shinra had left to “go handle something” or whatever so he was gone for a good portion of time too.

Part 2/4? (This is way longer than expected.)

Mornings sucked because if you left the cabin you would almost definitely start freezing to death. Considering that, We just poked around our room for a bit and found nothing of interest. So it’s around midday now which means that the sun is out in full force and the outside is somewhat bearable, so why not go exploring right?? It can’t possibly lead to something catastrophic that would eventually put us at the brink of death.

- First place we go is to the “Bathrooms” across the little dirt road. As soon as we step through the door you just KNOW that Shizuo had been there previously and he was Mad™️. There was glass all over the floor from one of the broken shower doors, and it looked like someone did a very half asses job at cleaning up said glass.

- Enter: Namie. She apparently had the same idea and was wandering through the showers section of the Bathrooms as well, she had at least one other girl with her but I don’t remember who it was. Namie was also “talking” to me but it was more of just her trying to bicker. Clearly not liking that we had the same idea. So I eventually leave and go back to my cabin. I just remember wanting to avoid the other characters, because avoiding them meant avoiding unwanted conflict.

- I want to say this is the first night in this cabin, but at the same time it was like this had been playing out long before my weird dream had even started. So this is probably like the third or fourth night, and we were clearly avoiding a conflict that I was not present for.

- Middle of the night We hear thumping from down the hallway that works it’s way to my bedroom door. I initially think it’s Shinra walking around but that thought is quickly snuffed out.

- The man who opened the bedroom door was tall as hell and was clearly here for us. The man is having a hard time holding himself together, literally. Eventually his human persona wears off and we’re left having a showdown between us and this man made of GLASS. And this glass is SHARP. While trying to fight off the faceless glass demon/general asshole we “die”, he got the better of us and stabs us through the hand and a few other places. I just remember the hand being the most memorable. Close quarters combat with him is not the way to play this.

- We come to about a kilometer out from the U of cabins, at night, in the freezing cold, buried in the snow like a shallow grave, and still bleeding. Between the gusts of wind you could hear something moving around, and so we knew we had to get back inside STAT.

- Now at this point in time there was no need to keep up the human disguise, so we just didn’t. Enter: Neko!Izaya

Part ¾

We get back to the cabin and the room is a disaster. The bed is skewed and the suitcase of stuff I had is nowhere to be seen. The floorboards are cracked too, and we can see something shining under them.

- We pull back the floorboards, or at least what’s left of them, and pull up a giant steel box. In said box was a pair of thick leather gloves, with sharp nails on the end, a note, and a small map of the region we were in. On the small map was several other little squares which I assumed would be more boxes like the one we just found. (The gloves also helped keep our hands from freezing up which was nice)

- The front door and our bedroom door were broken and would no longer lock so there was no point in staying. No one else seemed to be around either so we just assumed that we were in this alone and needed to kill this thing before it killed us, and maybe someone else. (I also think Izayas sisters were there at the cabins, because I remember that being a pretty motivating factor.)

- After a lot of running we come across some buildings and fences, which looked like a Zoo. Zoos need caretakers, and caretakers were people, and people meant help. So we get onto one of the main roads of the “Zoo” and immediately something is wrong.

- Dawn is breaking and there is still no one in sight. On top of that none of the animals look right. Everything was very much uncanny valley. None of the animals looked like animals, and they were all hyper aggressive. Even the ones that seemed like they were supposed to be harmless.

- So far there seems to be no signs of people, but the farther back we get to the more restricted looking areas, the more signs of human life. There’s crates and Jeep’s, and we even found someone working on a computer in a big open tent. Although when we approached her, she didn’t really respond.

- So we leave again and follow a road into town. Once the town was in sight (think old European style town), the glass man was back chasing us in full force. And it seemed that as long as he was being touched by direct sunlight, he would appear as human.

- Getting to the town and there are people EVERYWHERE. Townspeople walking in and out of shops, driving down the road, and just going about their business in general. It was comforting but also concerning considering that we were still being chased but this glass man who for some reason is targeting us.

Part 4/4 (another long part)

I figured that if I could lose him within the town then I should be home free. Unfortunately wherever I managed to parkour to, he would already be waiting nearby. And If we stopped moving then we’d get attacked again.

- He would make snide comments every time he would cut us off within the town, although after the first few times I stopped listening to what he was saying, and I think this might have pissed him off.

- Eventually we had gotten into this other building which was definitely upper class or something, if you were to judge it by the decor and the sheer size of it. One of the hallway walls had a HUGE painting of this Neko mother surrounded by her little kids. The painting was clearly very old, and I wasn’t expecting to see anything like that.

- In this house we found three more of those Steel boxes. One with a black trench coat lined with wool, and there was a picture of another Neko in the box that was wearing the same coat. On the picture it said something along the lines of “to whoever receives this coat, let it warm and shield you from the night”, something weird like that. Each box that had something in it also had a picture too. Which was interesting, since each time it was always of a different Neko. Anyway I got like some sort of undercoat and I think a thicker pair of pants.

- Obviously we had been found again and were forced to flee to the edge of town. There was a old rickety building that we ran into, and were then cornered in.

- At this point we had to fight him, and as it turns out as long as he is taking human form (in direct sunlight via the giant skylight in the main room) you could do a lot of damage to him. I didn’t want to get too close to him do at one point I had taken an old coffee table and hit him w that, since it wasn’t that heavy.

- The gloves were helpful when we had to use the nails and dig under the guys false skin to tear some of the glass out. The less glass chunks he had in him, the less mass he had and the less damage he could do.

- Once we had whittled him down to almost a skeleton of what he was before, we reached into where his face used to be and pulled out the one piece of glass that wasn’t the same as the others. It was 100% clear and had this weird glittery purple and orange in the middle of it.

- While trying to leave the building we ran into this old man who I guess was working in a facility below the building, who was coming up to see what the commotion was about. He also took the weird glass/rock from us

- That’s how we found out that those weird looking rocks had come down in a meteor shower a few months ago, and that you’re not supposed to put them inside of your house. This is apparently because he cold of the outside keeps them sedated almost. So when you bring them inside they’ll latch on to any sort of free floating objects to create a body for themselves. Which is why when someone put it in the main bathroom where all of the broken glass was, it was able it create a much stronger body.

- Afterwards he, or someone else, had given me a ride to just outside of the cabins we were staying in. It was starting to get dark but it wasn’t getting colder yet, so everyone seemed to be out and about. I saw Kyohei walking back to his cabin so I ran up to him and grabbed him to tell him not to let anyone touch anything outside, and to especially not bring anything else inside. Which I probably sounded crazy but he just went with it.

- During that time I got to talk to the other characters, only for a little bit though. I tried talking to Shizuo but every time I did he would clam up and ignore me. Which fair enough I guess, since very few people got along with me and I had disappeared for the past 24 hours.

- Afterwards it had started to hail, and that was around the time I decided to leave the camp and try and go home. Just to get anywhere else but there. When it stopped I took one of the trucks and drove until I reached a highway, which was very far out. When I went to merge though, the on ramp wasn’t connected to the actual highway. It was like it was never completed and there was a drop off straight down into a canyon. I just sat there in the truck for a bit and watched the other cars driving back and forth across the bridge over the canyon.

- The ramp was only one lane so I and to reverse all the way back to the road, and then back to the 7/11 I had previously passed, so hopefully I could make a phone call to get out of there. Though the dream ended before we got the chance to do that.

I’m sure that there is a lot missing considering that it’s rare for me to remember dreams in the first place. I’m also sure that Shingen had something to do with us being in that location during that time of year. But I hope you found some entertainment in this weird dream that will probably haunt me for a while. Love your blog btw and I hope you keep posting!

——-

I’m in the middle of traveling right now! But omf thank you for sharing this I cry,,, also sorry everyone I don’t know how to make a read more on mobile 😭

This is actually a super interesting dream I wonder what it means tbh LOL what has me is the Neko part I weep softly. This kind of explains why my muse for Iza(Neko!izaya) has been a little low, like it felt like he wasn’t “with me” if that makes sense!

The coat and the pictures I’m hhrhrh…. It’s super funny to me because it kind of falls in line for Iza’s mom and her kits with that picture of a mother Neko and her kids because that was all I could think of but still! This is such a sweet story in a exploratorive way and a interesting lore perspective because those pictures and items were left there by someone for a reason but we have no idea who 👀

Then how you/izaya is trapped there?? I need the part of the dream where we know why and who LOL but tbh maybe Shigen did have something to do with it 👀 damn nebula and their mysteriousness

Ty again for sharing this with me 😭 it really helped and I enjoyed! I have like,,,mild travel anxiety and this made me feel better💕 for the posting part,,,I will try jdhdjs i have to get back to the Iza/Zuo content but I been ensnared in Genshin Impact and FE: Heros and I’m stuck on Link Click LOL but, I hope to post more about drrr/hybrid verse/Iza+Zuo content!

#;Ooc #anonymous #uhhh #long post #durarara

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madmeridian · 4 years ago

Note

hm, idk if this is exactly wild, but maybe an atla au?? for meronia??

ahahahahaha okay i was so fucking excited about this i accidentally wrote a 1,900ish word fic... oops. i hope you like it! i kinda just made it in the atla universe and not like a direct fusion bc i got this idea for it. also italics are flashbacks and non italics are present day! okay pls enjoy

“Near? I’m heading out for work.”

There was no response for a second and Mello nearly thought that Near wasn’t going to respond, but he rounded the corner just as Mello took a half-step out the door. The restless night had left Near exhausted and Mello hoped he’d at least go back to sleep after.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” Near murmured, not quite looking at him.

“Take it easy today.” Mello held his arms out, inviting, and Near stepped into them without hesitation.

“I can’t,” Near said. Mello could practically hear the grimace in his voice. “I have orders to fill.”

Near hadn’t been particularly interested in any of the work Ba Sing Se had to offer, considering most of it was either customer service or construction work. But people in the Middle Ring, as well as a few from the Upper Ring, had taken a liking to his craftwork, so he’d started his own little business.

“At least get a nap in.” Mello kissed Near’s forehead. “Promise me.”

“I’ll try,” was all Near offered before he walked away, leaving Mello in the doorway alone.

The streets of the city were busy, as they usually were in the mornings, especially where they lived. Mello walked through them silently. The people who had come to know him greeted him cheerfully and asked after Near.

When they’d first met him, Mello had been cold to them, suspicious. After all, he didn’t want them to know that there were two fugitives in their midst and he couldn’t give anything away. If they were found, they were dead.

Though they were still on edge, Mello and Near had warmed up to the people, mainly after discovering they were mostly harmless. Not to mention, they hadn’t seen their own pictures in any of the wanted signs around Ba Sing Se.

“Get some more sleep, you looked exhausted,” one of their neighbors called to him jokingly. Mello feigned a smile and nodded. Near had been struggling with nightmares since they’d arrived at Ba Sing Se and as long as he wasn’t sleeping, Mello wasn’t either. He couldn’t let him suffer alone, not when it was partially his fault.

-----

Mello was certainly not a fan of the freezing temperatures, cold wind whipping against his face. Similarly, his fellow Fire Nation soldiers shivered and groaned, though all of them fell silent when their commander walked past.

The Southern Water Tribe, diminished as it was, still had capable waterbenders, and it was their mission to capture or kill them. Mello had been on plenty of raids before, but never to either of the water tribes. He was interested to see how well they would fare against the Fire Nation.

Judging by the mass scrambling that was going on when the ship came close enough to the Tribe, it didn’t seem like things were going to go all that well for them.

Mello ignored the feeling of guilt that was creating a pit in his stomach. Part of him had always abhorred the raids, the pain they brought on others, but he was a soldier and pity had no place in him.

Screams began to rise up when the ship finally docked and a flood of soldiers descended on the Tribe.

-----

Mello shook the memory away and focused on what he was doing. None of the retail jobs would hire him, apparently because he was too intimidating to work with anyone, so he’d settled for construction. Though, he would have to admit, there was something therapeutic about hammering a nail into place.

“Hey, come eat lunch with us,” one of the other workers called to him. “It’s break time, man.”

Part of him wanted to tell them to fuck off and leave him alone. But, that wouldn’t bode well for his job, nor for blending in. Things weren’t the same in Ba Sing Se as he was used to. Adapting had taken some getting used to, but he’d gotten good at being less rude.

“Sure thing,” Mello said, plastering on a fake, polite face. “Just give me a few minutes to finish this up.”

The others nodded, smiling at him with approval. Whether or not they liked him wasn’t really a concern of his, but it was smart to stay on their good side. Blend in.

The last thing he needed was to get on someone’s bad side and get ratted out because of it.

-----

“Please,” the white-haired man had said, holding out his hands. “I’ll tell you where the waterbenders are if you let them go.” The children in the corner cowered away from Mello, from his flaming hand, and the other that held a sword.

“If you’re lying, I’ll kill you,” Mello sneered. Still, he waved the kids out. They ran, crying and yelling. The pit in his stomach made itself known again. “So, where are they?”

“I don’t know where the others are,” the man began, “but I’m one. I only didn’t tell you because I’d thought you’d kill them.” To prove his point, he directed an arc of water in the air. Mello grabbed his arm and dragged him out.

“That’s all I need to know,” he said through gritted teeth, wishing that the man hadn’t just given himself up like that. He’d seen the prisons and knew what happened to waterbenders. The guy would be executed or kept in a cage.

Either way, his end would be miserable.

-----

“You’re home late,” Near noted. Mello grunted and flopped down in a kitchen chair.

“I got kept up by my coworkers,” he said, watching as Near poured him a cup of tea. “They’re a talkative bunch and I’m trying not to be rude to them.”

“You, trying not to be rude?” Near asked, raising an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done to my Mello?”

“Oh shut up,” Mello huffed. “I’d imagine if they liked me, they wouldn’t report me if they saw my face on a wanted poster.”

“That’s smart.” Near gave him the tiniest bit of a smirk. “And maybe if you’re less mean you’ll actually be able to get a job at a shop instead.”

“Please, as if you’d be able to. You’re just as bad as I am.”

“Hardly. Now come on, you promised me a game of Pai Sho.”

-----

“You’re telling me, out of all of you, only one waterbender was captured,” the commander shouted. “One! It’s pathetic. It’s a fucking disgrace. Keehl, you’re excused for now. Go guard your prisoner. The rest of you will stay here.”

Mello was more than happy to escape the scene, the commander’s anger boiling in the air. It was all luck that he was the only one to have caught a waterbender.

Said waterbender watched him with wide gray eyes as he approached the cell. He didn’t seem at all fazed by his capture, nor his captor standing in front of him.

Mello turned his back once he got to the cell, standing there as he’d been taught, straight back and searching eyes.

“My name is Near,” the prisoner spoke up. Some were more talkative and some didn’t try. Mello hated the talkative ones. He was always sad to see them go. “I think you should at least tell me yours.”

“And why’s that?” Mello asked quietly.

“So when I go to prison, I can tell everyone about the man who caught me, in case one of them escapes and finds you one day. So they can get revenge for me,” Near said dryly.

“Very convincing.” Mello paused, before looking down at the man for a brief second. “It’s Mello.”

“Did you do that to yourself or was that someone else?” Near pointed to Mello’s scar. “It looks like it hurt a lot when it happened.”

“Someone else,” Mello said gruffly. “And yeah, it hurt.”

“I appreciate you not doing it to me.” Near offered quietly, “you don’t seem very evil. I thought you’d be much harder to talk to.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

-----

“I win, again,” Near said smugly. Mello crossed his arms, glowering.

“I’m almost certain that the only reason you ask to play this is solely to piss me off.”

“Then you’re wrong. I play with you because you’re the only one who gets close enough to beat me. Mind you, you have won a few times.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know that. I fucking hate losing though and you know that,” Mello grumbled. Then he yawned, stretching. “I’m exhausted.”

Near was quiet for a moment, looking at Mello blankly, then frowning.

“You shouldn’t have stayed up with me last night. You need sleep.”

“You need sleep too and you fall back asleep better when I’m up too,” Mello argued. “Not to mention, it’s my fault. I’m gonna keep staying up with you.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Near shot back, crossing his arms.

“Come on, let’s just get some sleep,” Mello said, getting up and heading to the bedroom.

-----

The commander had made a huge mistake. He’d constantly put Mello on guard duty for Near, since the rest of the soldiers were doing grunt work they normally wouldn’t as punishment.

And Mello had gotten… attached. More so than he usually did with prisoners.

So, on his next shift, he’d carefully snuck the keys to the cell away. When he got to the cell, he crouched down low. Near tipped his head in curiosity. He’d smiled a bit, but his face was much more thin and gaunt than it had been.

It made Mello’s heart ache in a way he didn’t quite understand.

“You don’t have family in your tribe, right?” Mello already knew the answer, from their talks, but had to make sure.

“I told you I was an orphan,” Near said, a little crease forming between his brows. “Why?”

“How do you feel about Ba Sing Se?” Mello whispered, holding out the keys. Near leaned forwards, grabbing the bars. A twist of disbelief and relief made his eyes widen.

“Can we get off safely?” Near asked, one hand trembling, reaching out.

“We dock in an hour and I know every inch of this ship. They won’t know we’re gone until my shift is over. Three hours after we’ll leave here.”

Four hours later, the alarm bells sounded on the ship for their escaped prisoner. Neither Mello or Near were there to hear it. They were on their way to Ba Sing Se.

To freedom.

-----

Mello had never been Near’s night guard, but he’d never heard anything about him having nightmares from the man who was. He’s not sure the man would’ve been able to tell. Mello is a light sleeper, luckily, so when Near starts to gasp and whimper, he wakes immediately.

It happens like clockwork. Near has a nightmare, Mello wakes up, then Near does too, and then they sit there. Mello just waits for Near to calm and talk to him. Near’s told him several times that’s all he needs to do, is just give him a minute, and Mello is glad to.

Near’s nightmares vary. Sometimes it’s the raid, playing over again in his head, his people’s blood staining the snow of his home. Other times, it’s on the ship, and Mello dies. They aren’t free and Near is sent to his grave too. And sometimes it’s incomprehensible, just horrors over and over.

Mello waits for Near to talk, smoothing his unruly hair back and holding him close.

“I’m sorry,” Near whispers. He always says that, and Mello always says the same thing back.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Near.”

Near is quiet for another moment, leaning against Mello’s side and blinking slowly in the moonlight. His eyes almost look silver and Mello has to sort of bite his tongue to compliment them because he’s not sure it’s the best time to flirt.

“Thank you for staying up with me,” Near says slowly. “I know I said you shouldn’t but… it helps.”

“It’s what I’m here for. We’re in this together, Near.” Mello kisses Near’s forehead and hugs him tight.

Mello sees the tiny smile Near tries to hide and smiles too, genuine for what felt like the first time that day.

#this wasnt meant to be this long #also i have another ficlet i will do tomorrow #bc i am dead now #I LOVED WRITING THIS THO THANK YOU #LIKE A TON #I love atla so #i accidentally wrote 19000 but i mean 1900

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euphoric-melloncollie · 5 years ago

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One More Night - [ pt. 1 ]

( Series? Mini series? )

Tom x Reader

Summary: you have a crush on the boy next door, one day when he’s trying to escape his own personal hell you’re the one he goes to.. one thing leads to another...

Warnings: swearing? A little steaminess, smut in the future.

Word Count: 1.5k

——

There was nothing you loved more than coming home on a Friday, knowing you have the entire weekend off, and being able to just lay in bed with a good book, some beer or wine and relax. At least that’s what your plans originally were before your neighbor decides to come knock on your door trying to escape his ass of a roommate. You down the rest of your beer and head to the door, already knowing who it’ll be on the other side.

Luckily for him, he was charming enough that you weren’t too pissed off at him for ruining your night in. Seeing his smile and his messy, brown curls makes up for all of the internal struggling you’re about to endure. Your heart strings pull every time you look through the peephole on your door and see his tired brown eyes on the other side. You open the door to let him in.

“Thank you s’much Y/n...”

——

“I’m sorry you have to deal with shit like that all the time,” you tell him as you make him a warm cup of tea. He’s laying on your couch, barely able to keep his hooded eyes open.

“It’s alright,” he begins, “if it weren’t for you though love, I don’t know what I would do..” he practically whispers, his voice low and filled with exhaustion. All of his words make your heart do little flips inside of your chest. Will you ever be able to confront your feelings for the cute “boy next door?”

“I just can’t believe your roommate has the nerve to act like your entire place, is his place. You were the first tenant, if anything it’s more your place than his.. it makes me fuckin’ furious.”

You turn around to walk over with the mug in hand but it’s too late as Tom is already dozed off, his arms crossed tightly against his chest trying to keep himself warm. You set the mug down and walk over to grab a blanket from your other couch, bringing it up to lay softly over him. You kneel beside him and push his curls back over his forehead, admiring every inch of his beautiful god-like face. Your fingers linger in his curls for a few seconds before lightly tracing down the side of his face and chiseled jaw, stopping right below his lips. God what you wouldn’t do to kiss his perfect pink lips. Desire takes over your every nerve and you lean in slowly, before stopping yourself. You let out a frustrated sigh as you get up, sulking over to your room fully prepared to fall into bed completely alone.

“Y/n?” Tom says sleepily from behind you, “is it alright if I come sleep with you? My backs been killing me and it’ll be worse if I sleep on this couch.. if not i-it’s okay.”

You stop dead in your tracks, mind drawing a blank, so many different thoughts running through your head. Was he actually awake when you were staring at him? Should you offer to sleep on the couch instead of him?

“Uh y-yeah of course,” you nod your head and wait for him to follow you into your room. It shouldn’t be weird for you two to sleep in the same bed, you’ve been neighbors for almost a year now and you’d consider him a good friend considering how many late nights you’ve had with him over trying to get away from his roommate. But the immense feelings you had for him made it all seem weird, his feelings not being reciprocated makes it seem weird... or so you thought.

“Do you, uhm, want any comfy clothes to sleep in or...?” You stutter out as you throw pillows off of your bed, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible. You don’t have anything that would fit him, so you’re not completely sure why you offered, you just wanted to seem polite.

“Erm, it alright if I sleep in just my uh, briefs?” He asks, already grabbing the hem of his shirt from behind his neck and pulling it over his head. Wow. You let out a soft chuckle because this is really happening, averting your eyes to the floor to stop from gawking at his perfect physique.

“What?” He smirks at you with a brow raised. He folds his arms so snug over his chest that his biceps are flexed to the max, clearly trying to show off. This boy will most certainly be the death of you.

“You’re just really hot,” You say, feeling your face heat up as you laugh, still not able to make eye contact with Tom. You’re wearing a long enough shirt that taking your leggings off wouldn’t be too revealing, folding them in a nervous habit and setting them down on the chair next to your bed before finally meeting Tom’s burning gaze.

“What?”

“Ditto.” He says with a playful smirk, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t think your face could feel any hotter than it already does, but here you are with your cheeks burning a bright red as Tom finally takes off the dark wash sweats he was donning. You wonder if maybe you should just climb into bed and ignore Tom’s comment or continue this flirting back and forth to see if it leads anywhere.

With your bottom lip snug between your lip, you decide on the latter.

Tom’s already climbed onto your bed, careful not to mess up your comforter too much as he already feels as though he’s intruding. He sits up slightly perched against the headboard, waiting for you to get comfortable before he does anything, looking at his phone to try and distract himself from your gorgeously-on-show legs. He’s trying so hard to behave himself but how can he with such an innocent, hot neighbor?

You reach up and grab the clip that’s holding your hair up, letting your locks fall around your shoulders in a mess of curls, ruffling around your roots a little trying to get Tom’s attention. Didn’t work. Or so you thought.

Instead you walk into your closet, away from Tom’s view to quickly remove your bra from underneath your shirt. You walk out, giving a long sigh as you toss your bra over to where your leggings are sat. Didn’t work. Or so you thought.

You let out a huff, in one last desperate attempt to get his attention, you decide on being a little more promiscuous.. you turn and bend all the way over, pretending to pull your socks up higher as you feel the air hit more and more of your leg. Tom’s willpower has been slowly withering away with every move you make, but he can’t stop himself from peaking over his phone. It’s harmless, right?

Wrong.

His eyes widen as he can see completely under your shirt as it’s lifted over the curve of your bottom half. Your ass on perfect show to him.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” He chuckles.

“Depends.. is it working?” You laugh and turn around, raising your brow at him while you nervously play with the hem of your shirt.

He looks at you with a smirk, the hottest shit-eating smirk you’ve seen. It fuels every fiber in your being as you move to crawl onto the bed, an equally attractive smirk plastered on your face. You’re killing him.

“I think I might need a little more convincing...”

“Oh, is that right?” You said, sitting back on your feet right next to him, legs parted slightly. You bring your fingers up to trail over his broad shoulder, the one light source setting a beautiful soft glow on your body.

“Mhm” he breathes out, rubbing the side of your knee with his hand. His beautifully sexy hands. The hands being the focus of many wet dreams you’ve had.

“Maybe I’ll just have to try harder..” you bring both your arms to his shoulders, squeezing them for your own pleasure as you sit to straddle him. He puts his hands behind his head to enjoy his view, his biceps flexing and you can feel the heat pool between your thighs.

“Fuck you’re hot.” You bite back a smile. Your hands fall from his shoulders to roam over his defined chest, squeezing his arms to feel his strength.

You lean down to kiss his cheek, moving your wet lips down to his chiseled jawline and back up to his other cheek. “You know how long I’ve wanted this” Kiss. “Along time Y/n...” kiss. “To feel your lips,” kiss. “To feel that beautiful smile against me somehow..” kiss.

He can’t stand your lips teasing him any longer. He moves your chin to mash your lips together, his other hand on the back of your head. You let out a groan with how soft his lips are against yours. Tom couldn’t be any more perfect. You smile against his lips, him taking the opportunity to pull your bottom lip between his teeth sending another groan through your parted lips.

“I wanna make you feel good Tommy..”

#tom holland #tom holland 2013 #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #peter parker #peter parker smut #spiderman

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sol-tinyrayofsun · 5 years ago

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Zutara Week Day 6 - Affirm: It Was Always You (Falling For Me)

This little story has been on my mind for quite some time now and I somehow made it work with the prompt. It’s really fluffy, ridiculous, and features a lot of Toph’s brilliance to mess with her friends yet always meaning well. I just had a good time writing it, it was honestly a fun ride.

I hope you enjoy it! As always, thank you for reading! Feedback and comments are always appreciated! <3 In case you prefer it, also on AO3! Title: It Was Always You (Falling For Me)

Rating: G

Summary: When Katara let Toph convince her of giving Zuko a love potion to make him fall in love with her, she knew the chances of the plan going sideways were extremely high. Still, the last thing she expected was for Zuko to act normal. Painfully normal. Operation “Sparky Falling For Sugar Queen” turns out to be a little too complicated. (Set after Ember Island Players but before Sozin’s Comet).

----- “Pst! Katara!”

The waterbender tilted her head. The kitchen appeared to be empty. Still, she could hear someone calling for her, loud and clear. She had been busy making sure they had everything ready for lunch around Zuko’s holiday house at Ember Island.

“Katara!” There it was, that voice again. “Listen up, Sugar Queen!”

Wait for a second, that was Toph’s voice. Definitely.

“Toph?” She asked, walking around the room. “Where on earth are you?”

“Inside the broomstick closet!” Toph chuckled. “Come here for a sec.”

Katara did as she said. Once she opened the door, she found Toph mischievously smirking, holding a little bottle in her hands.

“So, what is it?”

“This!” Toph replied, showing off the bottle with a grin on her face. “This is what I wanted to show you!”

“And you were hidden with all those broomsticks because…”

“Dramatic effect, Sugar Queen, never underestimate it,” she said, stepping into the kitchen hall. “Now, aren’t you going to ask what this is for?”

“Sure, Toph,” Katara let out an amused sigh. “Why is it so important?

“How do you feel about having some fun at Sparky’s expenses?”

In all honesty, the idea sounded tempting. After the dreadful night Katara had endured with that stupid play just days ago, she could use more than a little fun. Although Toph’s idea of fun could sometimes be questionable, at the very least.

“Hold up. What do you have in mind?”

“This little thing,” Toph shook the bottle up in the air. “It’s a temporary love potion.”

Katara broke down in a scandalous laugh. “Yeah, and where did you get that from?”

Toph made a defensive frown. “Hey, it’s the real deal! I bought it from a weird old lady in town. She wasn’t lying, I swear.”

“Alright, I believe you. And what do you suggest we do with it?”

“Yes, that’s the attitude!” she celebrated. “According to the weirdo, two drops of this stuff and you can make anyone fall at your feet. All you need is for the other person to consume it while looking at you. And I just thought, wouldn’t it be hilarious if Zuko just happened to suddenly be crazy in love with you? That play inspired me, that’s all I’m saying.”

Well, that sounded like a recipe for disaster. Especially considering the way that play had contributed to her latest confusion regarding her feelings for two very powerful - and very different - benders. Still, it was a tempting offer.

“Toph, that’s insane!” Hesitation could be heard in her voice. “Trust me, pranking Zuko would be entertaining, but we cannot force him to be forever in love with me! I mean, what on earth would we do then? Seems a little cruel to me.”

“See? That’s the catch. It’s temporary. Two drops would only make him fall in love with you for a couple of days, tops. Come on! I thought you had been introduced to the concept of fun.”

Spirits, screw it. Two days of some harmless fun, how bad could it be? She could use a little distraction from the constant stress they were all under.

“Are you sure the effect will wear off?”

“Absolutely. Say yes, please! You know I can always do it without you. Or to you.” A mischievous smile framed her face. “You know you want to torture Sparky a little bit.”

“Alright… Let’s do it. But if anything goes sideways it’s your responsibility.”

“Heck yeah! That’s the spirit!” Toph gave her an affectionate punch in the shoulder. “Oh man, this is going to be too fun to watch!”

And so operation “Sparky falling for Sugar Queen” was put into motion. The two girls would prepare some tea - which would undoubtedly bribe Zuko in there - and make sure he was left alone with Katara when it came to drinking it. Toph would oversee everything from a cautious distance. It was the craziest, most random idea ever. But it sure sounded like fun.

Once everything was ready, Katara waited for Zuko in the kitchen. Needless to say, she was feeling a tad nervous. Waiting by the countertop, staring at the two teacups in front of her, she felt her heart racing on her chest.

It was just for two days. And it would certainly be nice to laugh with Toph about Zuko’s ridiculous lovey-dovey attitude. Most importantly, she wouldn’t even dream to risk Toph giving her the concoction. No, her feelings were already messy enough without the help of any love potion.

“Katara, are you in here?” Zuko’s voice interrupted her overthinking. “Toph said you made tea for me…?”

Time for the show. She put on her brightest smile as Zuko sat down in front of her.

“Yes! You seemed so tired this morning, figured you could use a little boost.”

She handed him the cup with the two drops mixed in the tea.

Zuko gifted her with a thankful smile. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.”

Nice of me… Yeah, sure. Just drink the tea and look at me.

He started drinking, only to stop after a few sips to have a little chat.

“So, Aang’s training is looking decent,” he started saying. “But I can tell he’s getting increasingly anxious. We might need to keep an eye on him, I wouldn’t want him to start avoiding our sessions.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Katara intervened. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t slack on his training. Drink your tea, it’ll get cold otherwise.”

“Alright, alright,” he complied, looking into her eyes. “Thanks again for making it.”

Katara observed him as he drank the whole thing in one go. Her golden eyes staring at her with an amused shine to them. She wondered how Zuko being in love with her would be like. He didn’t exactly give off the cheesy type vibes, though she knew how much of a dork he actually was. If you fall in love because of a potion, you’re pretty much doomed to grandiloquent gestures and infatuated declarations, right? Well, she wasn’t an expert on the subject. But she did know a thing or two about having feelings for someone.

Toph sneaked into the kitchen, placing her hands on Zuko’s shoulders and giving them one tight squeeze. “Hello there, Sparky, how are you feeling on this lovely day?”

“Hey Toph,” he greeted her. “Much better after that tea, actually.”

Despite the perfectly normal response, Toph continued with her attack.

“You know what? Sugar Queen over here confessed to me this morning that she felt she looked terrible. I’m clearly not the best judge when it comes to looks.” The vicious smile on her face was a little too obvious. “How is she looking today, Sparky? Isn’t she stunning as usual?”

Oh, no. Katara felt herself blushing. The whole operation had quickly turned into Toph having fun at the expenses of both her and Zuko. But in all honesty, how could she had ever expected otherwise?

“Um, well,” Zuko mumbled, his eyes glued to the countertop. “She looks just the same to me. Like you said, um, she’s got her usual look.”

Katara wished Toph could see the look of utter confusion in her eyes. That was not the response she had imagined.

Zuko abruptly stood up. “Alright, I think I’ll get back to training. See you two later,” he greeted them. “Oh, and Katara. Thanks again for the tea.”

‘Thanks for the tea’? So much for romantic gestures.

Toph grasped her arm as soon as Zuko was out the door.

“What on earth? That was the least romantic interaction ever.” The earthbender exclaimed, looking frustrated.

“Hey, let’s give it some time. Maybe the effect hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“Okay, we’ll wait. Man, what a bummer. I was fully expecting him to start a rant about how beautiful you are.” Toph threw her hands up in the air, grunting.

“Patience, we’ll get there,” Katara reassured her.

But am I even sure I want to get there?

Deep down, a part of her was hoping for it.

The rest of the day was spent with Toph trying her best to get Zuko to do anything remotely romantic regarding Katara, in an attempt to kick off the love potion effects. Much to her frustration, nothing seemed to do the trick. Katara wasn’t sure what to think of it. Did she feel relieved, disappointed, or maybe even bored? Truth be told, it was kind of a mix of all three.

Katara witnessed as Toph did everything she could. From suggesting they paired up in training all the way up to making them meditate together. All she got from Zuko was radio silence. Well, at least in the sense they were expecting.

“Are you sure you don’t feel a little weird, Sparky?” Toph asked him for the millionth time during dinner.

“Um, no? Why?” Zuko had a look of complete confusion on his face.

“You sure you don’t feel a little more sparky than usual? Don’t you sense some new emotions?” Toph continued. “Anything different?”

“Alright, that’s enough Toph,” Katara interrupted. “You’re scaring the poor boy.”

“Yeah, Toph, what’s all that nonsense about?” Sokka asked.

“Why should Zuko feel different?” Aang’s voice showed a tad of concern.

“Nothing, nothing,” Toph replied. “Calm down, you all. I was just wondering.”

Katara noticed the annoyed frown on her friend’s face. She seemed pissed off by the lack of results, the whole plan had been her idea after all.

After the meal, Suki stayed with them doing the dishes.

“Are you two going to tell me what’s going on already?” she asked them, with her hands on her hips and an inquisitive look in her eyes.

“Going on with what?” Toph played the innocent. “We’re just scraping plates.”

“Oh, come on! You have been acting weird all day! Especially you, Toph, asking Zuko the most random questions.”

“What do you say, Sugar Queen, should we tell her?” Toph asked.

“Sure, maybe she’ll even know why it’s not working,” Katara replied. “But Suki, promise not to tell any of the guys, alright?”

Suki let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, just spill it.”

“Okay, let me see. We made Sparky drink a love potion with his tea so he would fall in love with Katara. For two days. And before you ask, yes, it’s legit. Oh, but nothing’s happened yet.” Toph´s explanation was accompanied by a playful grin on her face.

“You’re joking, right?” Suki asked with a sarcastic smirk. “Katara would never be on board with that.”

“Actually,” she said, blushing. “I thought it was kind of a fun idea.”

“Yeah, so much for fun since Sparky hasn’t shown any signs of love and it’s been hours! He should be acting all lovey-dovey already.”

Suki burst into laughter. “Spirits, that’s hilarious! You gave him a freaking love potion and he’s acting as usual?”

“I don’t get what you’re laughing about! Something’s seriously wrong with him! Or us!” Toph complained. “Katara, are you sure you didn’t drink the potion yourself?”

“Yes, Toph, I’m absolutely positive I gave him the cup with the two drops,” Katara replied.

“Are you telling me you two don’t realize what’s going on?” Suki asked, an amused expression framing her face. “For being the ones to come up with this plan you seem rather clueless.”

A suspicion started to take shape into Katara’s mind. She couldn’t help but ask. “Suki, what are you talking about?”

“Yeah, come on!” Toph urged her. “Do you know something that we don’t?”

Suki let out a soft giggle. “Well, let’s think about it. You gave Zuko a love potion to fall for Katara, right? Toph, you say it’s a legit one. But Zuko is acting painfully normal. Even though he is under the effects of the potion.”

“Your point is?” Toph was sitting down on the countertop with a desperate expression on her face.

“If Zuko acts just as usual when he is supposed to be artificially in love with Katara… What do you think it’s the reason?”

“His heart is missing?”

“The dose wasn’t strong enough?”

“No!” Suki exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “He was already in love with her!”

Wait. What? That doesn’t make any sense.

“Spirits, Spirits, Spirits!!!” Toph jumped down the countertop, hands on her head, and on the verge of screaming. “That’s it! Suki, you’re a genius.”

Katara hadn’t even blinked. She was not even entirely sure she was still breathing. Zuko in love with her? It couldn’t be. He had even looked embarrassed by the way the play paired them together. Although she had acted embarrassed as well. And a part of her knew very well why.

“Sugar Queen, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner.” Toph poked her cheeks. “His heartbeat is all over the place whenever you’re around but again so is yours, and I thought it was just all that love/hate dynamic you’ve got going on. I had actually started to suspect he liked you, but Spirits, I didn´t realize he loves you.”

Love/hate, what? This can’t be happening.

Suki raised a brow. “Hold up, Toph, are you saying Katara’s heart beats faster when Zuko is around?”

“That’s a lie!” Katara exclaimed, snapping out. She couldn’t let her friends figure out the truth. “My heart is perfectly fine, thank you very much. And Zuko is not in love with me!”

“And I suppose you have unlimited access to his mind and that’s how you know that?” Toph deadpanned.

“No… I - That’s unfair Toph,” she managed to mumble, feeling her heart starting to race on her chest.

“As unfair as the fact that you’re heart is betraying your words in this exact second,” Toph replied.

Katara wished with all of her strength that the ground opened up and swallowed her. The entire operation had gone sideways. But not in the way she had originally expected. No, it was worse.

“Alright, alright,” Suki intervened. “Enough torturing with Katara, this was supposed to be about Zuko.”

“Thank you. Can we please go back to the point?”

Toph let out an exasperated sigh. “The point is Zuko is in love with you, Sugar Queen. But not because of the love potion, it seems like he’s been head over heels for you way before drinking that tea.”

“I seriously can't believe you didn’t figure this out sooner,” Suki said. “The question is, what are you going to do about it, Kat?”

That was a very good question indeed. One she had no answer for.

“Why should I even do something about it?” Katara asked, a confused look in her eyes.

“Because I think deep down you want to.” Suki’s tone got serious all of the sudden.

Toph placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sugar Queen, I’m sorry if my prank ended up bringing you a headache. But Suki’s right, you should confront him.”

“Confront him? We’re in the middle of a war! I don’t need any distractions.” Her head was spinning a little too fast.

“Says the girl who complied to give a love potion to Sparky,” Toph remarked.

“Katara, would you seriously prefer to have a lump on your throat until Aang has taken down Fire Lord Ozai?”

Truth be told, she would hate that. A part of her knew she had feelings for Zuko. For that poor firebender she had given a love potion to. Only to have the whole scheme backfire right on her face. Now, she had to stand up to it.

“No.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t prefer that.”

“Then hear me out because I have a plan!” Toph exclaimed, enthusiasm written all over her face. “I know how to get one last bit of fun out of this failure of an operation.”

——

The next day went out according to what the girls had planned. Still hoping for at least a bit of extra romance on Zuko’s behalf - which, unsurprisingly, never occurred - the three of them acted normal all the way until the afternoon.

After training, Toph cornered the poor Zuko on his way to the beach. Katara and Suki stayed at the shore, discreetly listening.

“Sparky, this is your last chance!” Toph exclaimed.

“My last chance for what?” The look of sheer confusion on his face was priceless to say the least.

“Come on! Please tell me you are feeling extra lovey-dovey and maybe I’ll let you walk away without making you even more uncomfortable.”

“Toph, I swear I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’re telling me you don’t feel any special romantic feelings today?”

“Um, no?” His voice had a strain of nervousness to it.

“And what about regular feelings? Got them for anyone? Maybe for someone you drink a lot of tea with?”

“Uh - No? Um, Toph, can I please go now?” Zuko stuttered.

“Ha! I knew it, you sneaky little bastard! That’s a lie.” Toph threw her hands up in the air. “I can tell you’re lying. I was right, heck yeah!”

Zuko anxiously tried to get past her. “Alright, sure, can I please go down to the beach now?”

“Don’t you want to know why I’m asking you this?”

“Do I have to?”

“We gave you a love potion, Sparky! A love potion mixed with that tea you drank yesterday. And you were supposed to fall in love with Miss Sugar Queen!” Toph’s was grinning from ear to ear.

Katara and Suki exchanged a concerned look. That was not part of the plan. Katara was supposed to be the one to tell Zuko about the love potion. After Toph had made sure whether he was lying or not. Then, and only maybe, she would mention the tricky subject of actual feelings.

“What on earth, Toph?” Zuko’s face was pale as a ghost. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I've been suspecting for forever that you liked her! And when I got that love potion it was just too tempting not to go for it. I thought it would be a fun experiment! Katara was also on board with it.”

“But?”

“But it only made me reaffirm my theory! What I didn’t expect is that you don’t just like her, you’re full-blown in love with her!”

“Toph, can you please tone it down? I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear this conversation,” Zuko pleaded.”

Katara was cursing Toph, Suki, Zuko, the moon, the stars, the Spirits, and herself. Toph playing matchmaker as subtle as an elephant trying to fit into her sleeping tent.

“Sparky, don’t you see Katara and Suki over there in the corner? They’re already listening!” Toph waved at the two of them, she had the most amused look on her face.

“What? Toph!” Zuko’s face was now entirely red. “You’re insane.”

“Sh, let me get to the best part,” she shushed him. “I think our dear Sugar Queen has something very important to tell you.”

Toph grabbed him by the wrist and started marching up to them.

Toph, you’ll pay for this, Katara thought as she found herself in front of Zuko.

“Now, I think Suki and I have to go do literally anything else but being here,” Toph resolved. “Alright! Everyone’s happy? See you!

“Kat, I’m sorry,” Suki mumbled. “I had no clue about this but I’ll better go.”

The two girls sprinted back to the house, where Aang and Sokka were probably taking care of dinner.

Her eyes met Zuko’s, and she felt her heart racing inside of her chest. The awkwardness of the situation was remarkable.

“So… I’m taking it you heard everything Toph said?” Zuko asked, sitting down on the shore next to her.

“Yeah,” she replied, nervously playing with the sand that surrounded them. “I’m sorry about the love potion thing. It was stupid of me.”

“I just didn’t understand the logic behind it. Were you going to let me be in love with you for all eternity?”

“The effect was supposed to wash out tomorrow…” She let out a sigh. “But I guess it’s the same now.”

“Because you realized that I acted normal around you even with the potion?”

“Exactly.” Katara took a deep breath. “Look, Zuko, I had no clue-”

“Katara,” he interrupted her. “It’s okay. I don’t mind you know.”

“So it’s true then? Are you…”

“Am I in love with you?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his whole body seemed anxious. “Yeah, I am. I guess even more than I knew.”

Silence. Just sheer silence.

Zuko rushed to continue. “It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way.”

But she did feel the same way.

“Look, I think I’m in love with you too,” she blurted out, feeling her cheeks turning bright red.

“You are?” His voice was tinted with astonishment.

She nodded in agreement. Then, she proceeded to say something else. “The night of the play, Aang felt terrible about the possibility of us being together. He kissed me and… and I pulled apart. I was horribly confused. A part of me knew he has always expected to be with me. But it didn’t feel right.”

Katara made a pause. She couldn’t believe she was actually saying those words out loud.

“Go on, I’m listening,” Zuko encouraged her.

“Well, I knew I felt something for you for a long time already. But with what happened the night of the play, and now this whole love potion thing… I realize I’m in love with you too.”

Zuko brushed his fingertips against the back of her hand. “Thank you, for being honest with me.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for not wanting to kill me for giving you a love potion.”

“Now what?”

“I don’t know. We still have a war to win.”

A moment of quietness invaded the space between them. Their fingers were intertwined, both of their hearts racing. They were savoring the confirmation of their feelings - and embracing the uncertainty - together.

“Do you want to wait?”

“Wait?”

“Yeah, until this whole mess is over,” he explained. “We can figure out things slowly, I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m suddenly going to stop having feelings for you.”

“So you would still be in love with me… And I would still be in love with you…”

“But we focus on winning the war first.”

Katara tilted her to look straight at him. “Can I occasionally do this, though?”

He made a slight frown. “Do what?”

She didn’t give him much time to wonder. In a split second, she leaned onto him and placed a kiss on his lips. It was sweet, quick, and a little timid. But it was still the first kiss they shared.

“So?” Katara asked, a light smile framing her face. “Can I?”

Zuko placed his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to rest her head on the creek of his neck.

He squeezed her hand, chuckling. “Yeah, I think you can.”

“You know what? I’m really glad Toph convinced me to give you that stupid love potion.”

---- I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little thing I wrote! Feedback is always appreciated! <3 Thank you for reading! @zutaraweek

#zutara week 2020 #zutara #zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara #every week is zutara week baby

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