#also i lost next year's funding and fighting to hold onto something so you know how it is

[witheredgardenparty]

Saw my first cybertruck in the wild and let me tell you -- nothing prepared me for how fucking stupid it looked. Took me ten of earth's precious seconds to process what I was looking at was real a 2D screengrab trying to drive down a too narrow street

[rainstormcolors]

Pegasus and Kaiba for the comparison thing!

Hello. Thank you for the ask.

Seto and Pegasus were both young inventors and entrepreneurs – a key difference is Seto came from a rougher and less-privileged position and Pegasus grew up in a wealthy family with the implication that his family funded his initial business ventures. Seto in time would also enter into a rich family but with the rather glaring asterisk of “having to prove himself worthy.” Both of them have been wealthy and very upper class within an upper class elite, but Pegasus could be said to come from “old money” and Seto from “new money.” We never actually see Pegasus interacting with his rich peers but he's also fairly young for an established business man, and canon (the DM anime specifically) repeatedly included other young wannabe entrepreneurs seeking to work with him. Both Seto and Pegasus pivoted their family’s wealth towards a new venture – Seto turned Kaiba Corporation away from military ventures into gaming and holograms, and Pegasus seemingly did not hold onto running casinos and instead focused on building his card game brand.

Both are introduced in a villain role, but Pegasus has a more distant motivation whereas Seto’s is more personal and direct. Seto is also, I feel, much more self-destructive and desperate during his villain arc – a wrecking ball who did not care what would come next, a wrecking ball wanting attention and yet wanting to be alone, a wrecking ball trying to motivate his enemy to just kill him if he loses. Pegasus seems more specifically goal-orientated as a villain, rather than specifically emotionally motivated. Obviously, given they are villains, they both had cruel streaks and a disregard for others. And both had their forms of tragic backstories to give context to who they are and what they’ve lost and how that loss has left them hollowed out in some way. Death and feeling haunted are certainly themes in both characters. There’s also a sense of a “lost self” for both of them.

Personally, that Pegasus’ goal in the manga and sub was always hollow and empty was the point to me – his goal was doomed and hollow from the very start. He was chasing something that was already gone and he could never get back. I don’t have an issue with people preferring how the dub changed his goal but his manga’s portrayal has more of a sense of hopeless doomed tragedy to me.

At the end, Seto is able to stand back up after bit-by-bit pulling himself together, tired though he may be he pulled himself together, and Pegasus (in the manga) allows himself to be destroyed. It is very much implied in the manga that Pegasus allowed Yami Bakura to kill him without putting up any fight.

DSoD is a continuation of canon one can take or leave as they please given its release many years after the official conclusion of the manga’s run. I also personally feel Seto’s fate is left up to personal interpretation. I consider it canon that Seto had a genuine emotional attachment to Atem and I feel ignoring that really flattens Seto’s character, especially given Seto shows that he has come to a place of being able to trust Yugi and Atem to save the world near the ending of the movie. I don’t think Seto knows how to name that emotional attachment and the feeling is so alien and new and strange to him. I’m not interested in ship wars or flattening Seto’s character in the name of ship wars – whatever Seto’s feelings for Atem are, there is *something* there. I don’t think Seto wanting to say goodbye to Atem should destroy any prospects of other ships or destroy asexual headcanons. With all that said, DSoD is about Seto’s struggle with grief for Atem to me even as he has no idea how to name this feeling or how to handle this feeling. And that Seto is chasing a ghost and feels something darkening in him in grief has been compared to Pegasus by fans a few times and in a few ways. I personally found resonance with Seto’s grief in DSoD and enjoyed how the film was allowed to have teeth but it’s a polarizing film for the fanbase, hence why I do think it’s fair for a fan to take it or leave it.

I apologize for the rambling about DSoD… it’s sort of inevitably a complicated discussion given the poles people might take Seto’s characterization and motives to as they interpret the movie. I personally feel it’s more complicated than Seto taking clear steps forward or clear steps back.

If I can keep going, the discussion around DSoD has made me understand that I personally hate the phrase “moving on.” DSoD finally finally -finally- got me talking about grief after so so many years of not even understanding my own grief. I literally had not been able to name my own grief or understand that I had experienced grief until I discussed the themes of grief in DSoD. DSoD helped me come to terms with my own grief. I did not need Story #20343243 where characters explicitly discussed how sad they were about a death but it’s okay because they have each other and now it’s time to move on. I never connected with those stories because that wasn’t how it went for me and I always felt disconnected from grief to the degree I hadn't even realized I did go through grief until discussing DSoD.

Man…. Man, I am so sorry for that ramble on DSoD. I really got away from the point maybe. I think I’ve seen too many fans compare Seto to Pegasus as a “bad thing” but those fans have the right to do that too. They have their own complicated feelings and life experiences too. I am sorry ._.

I do hope the day is kind to you. Thank you for the ask again.

[bigmammallama5]

a lot of bad things happened in the world yesterday. it’s scary, we’re tired, you dont know how to help ect. as a reminder from a tired 30 year old to people not currently affected by these events, if you’re feeling a little lost some things i can encourage you to do would be to:

first: make sure you are taking stock of yourself. yes it sounds silly, but it is very easy to burn out or say the wrong thing when you’re panicked and angry. i know i have before and its not fair to the people actually affected even if you weren’t directing it at anyone. your activism holds more weight if you aren’t popping off on twitter, you need to actually DO something and dont crow about it. charity is never a competition-nor should providing aid be. learn when to put your phone down for a few hours, someone else will step in when you need to rest. a constant barrage of information and doom scrolling will easily immobilize you. activism is often long and thankless.

second: vet your news sources. dont just share EVERYTHING. be critical of the links you are sharing for help and look to make sure theyre reputable. its also good form not to share disturbing imagery, which can be tricky sometimes. focus your attention on making sure the right voices are heard. if you are unable to send funds to orgs, this is JUST as important. there will be a lot of misinformation in the coming days, please be careful and look at multiple sources that aren’t from your country (looking at you, fellow us kids). and no, please don’t get ALL of your news from socials. It is difficult to find truly unbiased news sources. I personally look at Politico, Reuters, and AP to start before looking at other sources, keeping in mind that there may always be a bias on the facts presented.

third: please be compassionate. it’s easy to say “just move” or “take a train”, but there are lots of expensive and often impossible logistics that prevent people from moving to a safer state or getting out of a country. listen to what they need and see how you can help.

next steps can include putting pressure on your politicians IF it is safe for you to do so, donating funds to organizations in need (if you are in the US please look to make sure charity orgs are 501(c)(3) certified, I’m not sure about foreign orgs but there should be similar documentation), donating good, offering legal services, and any other support system endeavors. Good tools to use for vetting charities include CharityNavigator Guidestar and Give.org. If a charity has an IRS 990 tax form available for you to look at you’re on the right track.

you dont always need to speak out and have a voice on every matter. uplifting the voices needing help and sharing the means to make their fight easier are more important. this is just a general post and i am giving these words as a springboard. take what you need and build from here. i welcome anyone with relevant advice and information to tack it onto this post. (im sorry i didn’t include outside links since tumblr will kick things out of a tag with non-affiliated tumblr links... bc tumblr be tumblr)

keep yourself centered, get informed, get involved in a way that fits your means best, be compassionate.

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

[kohakuarisaka]

Trial By Fire (chapter 2 of 2)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Hawks stopped by your apartment, asking for a patch up, and then asked for so much more.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Role reversal: Keigo is a villain and Touya is a hero. Liberties were taken with Hawks’ quirk and is non-canon compliant. This fic is not nice to Touya. Reader and Hawks smoke. Reader has a quirk. Reader is a female with descriptive female genitalia. This fic contains graphic sexual content, including penis in vagina sex, oral sex, spanking, dirty talk, biting, degradation, and knotting. Consensual ♥

Keigo’s appearance in this fic was inspired by this lovely art piece!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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Todoroki Touya was a prince.

Being born to a top-ranking hero was almost the same as being born to royalty. Everyone recognized his name, his quirk might as well have been trade-marked, and he had lots and lots of daddy's money.

If that wasn't enough, Touya was incredibly handsome, too. He had a full head of stunning, bright red hair and beautiful, shiny blue eyes. His smile was charming and voice was hoarse and suave.

He was a skilled fighter, always topping the rankings at UA, the talk of all 'up and coming' news articles back in his teen years. His quirk was flashy and powerful, nearly unstoppable; but, he was also a dedicated hero that trained day in and day out to hone his combat skills.

The boy with the crimson wings couldn't have the fortune of being nobody. That would have been more preferable to his reality.

His father was a criminal, a thief and a murderer. His childhood home burned to the ground when an attempted arrest went horribly wrong, and resulted in half his body being permanently scarred by burns. But, no one would believe that a hero did that to a small boy, even if it was an accident. No, of course not.

No hero academy was going to accept someone with such a reputation, with a name like Takami, with a history of bloodshed, with the evidence smeared across his skin for all to see. He was in and out of foster homes for years before he could get his own place, funded by petty crimes and gang activity, the only way he could survive.

Touya was a prince-

-and Keigo was a gutter rat.

He wasn't the least bit surprised when you told him that Touya had asked you out, even less surprised when you told him that you said yes.

Of course you couldn't resist Touya. He was everything any girl could possibly want, and he could give you a hell of a lot more than Keigo ever could: fancy dates, lavish gifts, a nice family to go home to, a name with a shining reputation.

Touya could make you happy.

And so, Keigo stopped chasing you. He stopped hoping anything more would amount to your relationship. But, even if his life depended on it, Keigo could never stop wanting you, thinking about you, loving you. No one was like you, not by a long shot. No one understood him like you did.

But, you belonged to Prince Touya.

... ..

... ..

... ..

Hawks woke in a cold sweat, torn from a nightmare. He bolted upright, eyes scanning the room, panting lightly in a daze. His bare chest glistened with the evidence of his agony and his wings flexed out, feathers taut and sharped at the ends, defensive.

He glared at the unfamiliar walls, legs tangled in warm blankets. It took him just a moment to remember where he was.

There was a photo pinned to the wall by your desk: him and you at a spring carnival during your first year of high school. Your hair was longer back then and he had a black eye from a fight with some upper classmen.

The pillows and blankets on your bed were so soft and freshly washed, the scent of the fabric softener still wafting. You had dug out extra pillows and sheets for Hawks when made it clear he was intending to come around a lot more often.

Your apartment, your bedroom, your bed: that's where he was. The only thing missing from the room was you.

Hawks pulled himself out of a bed with a groan and snagged his sweat pants off the floor, where they had been discarded when he arrived. He decided to skip the underwear and just pulled the loose fitting pants on with a tired groan.

He didn't need to search the apartment to know you weren't inside. His feathers weren't picking up any vibrations from footsteps or breathing. It was too still, too quiet.

Confident of where you were, he opened one of the windows in your bedroom, nearest your desk, and shimmied onto the outer ledge, hoisting his torso through first before bringing his legs in until he was hanging outside. He kicked off the side, beat the air once with his wings to gain some momentum and flew up to the roof.

You let out the most undignified yelp when he floated up over the side of the building, bare feet toeing the edge where he landed, giving you an innocent, drowsy look.

"Holy fuck, you scared me," you hissed at him.

It was almost 1 in the morning, and you had slipped on a loose shirt and baggy shorts to head up to the roof for a smoke. Unsurprisingly, you were alone at this hour, able to enjoy the ambiance of the night without one of your neighbors mouth breathing or trying to strike up a conversation. They weren't bad people; but, you didn't want their company.

Even from up this high, you could hear passing cars, the soft squeaking of breaks and the occasional squeal of tires spinning on asphalt. Distant lights were constantly changing: traffic control, cars coming and going, people in and out of their crowded apartments.

"You're not cold?" Hawks asked as he approached you.

"Not really," you answered softly.

Despite that, Hawks flattened against your back. His hands dragged up and down your arms as if to warm them before winding around your waist. You felt more than saw his head droop over your shoulder. As he pressed in close, you felt what was his very shirtless chest fall against your back and the unmistakable outline of his cock against your behind.

"I see you didn't bother dressing," you scolded him, lacking any real malice.

"You like it," he challenged, reaching for your cigarette.

Before he could grab it, you brought it to his lips for him, turning your head to try and face him, despite the awkward angle. You watched him puff the end faintly before huffing out smoke away from you.

"Ohh," he hummed. "You bought the fancy ones this time."

"They're not fancy," you retorted gently.

He flapped his mouth, about to insist you let him buy the next pack. However, he caught himself, remembering how well it went last time. It had resulted in a fight, and you kicked him out, nearly pushing him out the window, not that he couldn't handle that, of course, and it was a funny memory, now that it was over.

Besides, if he was being honest, it was really hot when you yelled at him. Maybe not so much this time since it put him in the doghouse for a week. But, the makeup sex was definitely worth it.

You didn't want his money; 'blood money', you had called it. You adored him, maybe even loved him, wanted him, longed for him; but, you had no desire to take any of his dirty money.

You weren't delusional enough to think that that made you a good person, or somehow morally superior, not to Hawks, or anyone else for that matter. It was a choice that you had made for yourself, to try and get your life on the right track.

Maybe, letting Hawks into your bed was counter productive. He was a wanted villain, after all. Business could follow, even if he worked hard to prevent that. If Touya found out-

You shuddered at the thought, mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen. You didn't want to see Touya ever again, let alone talk to him; but, there was no guarantee that your paths would never cross again. Would he be mad? Would he try to hurt Keigo?

Sharply, you turned your head and kissed at his cheek, lips smearing across the burnt half of his face, as if trying to reassure yourself that that wouldn't happen. Hawks hummed, and you felt the vibration travel along his chest and throat and onto your skin.

"Don't burn your fingertips," he scolded you softly in a hoarse whisper, snatching your cigarette from the burning end.

You had been so lost in thought, you failed to realize the cinders were nearing your fingers, the flame having almost reached the end. You watched Hawks roll it between his fingers, drawing the paper into his palm where he crushed it. The flame died and he opened his hand, letting the wind carry the burnt remains away.

"Kiss me," you breathed, so wrapped up in the moment that you didn't care that you were outside.

He obeyed with a growl, hands grabbing at your waist harshly to spin you around. One hand flattened at the space between your shoulder blades, holding you tightly to his chest while he arched down and captured your mouth.

You heard and felt his wings beat the air, powerful and unyielding: an intentional display of dominance, most likely, that should have made your eyes roll and not your heart flutter. But, you had always been soft for Keigo, and this advancement in your relationship had only made that worse, until you became putty in his hands.

He clearly really liked to play with putty. It was bad enough that he was constantly twisting and turning your body to see what kind of positions he could put you in: something that you, unfortunately, found far more arousing than you should have. He loved to poke and prod, see what kind of noises he could get out of you. He also loved to see how far he could push your limitations.

"Baby," Hawks growled against your mouth, eyes hungry as he took you in.

"Let's be crazy," he suggested, low and hoarse, with a slight edge that made him sound like a stupid teenager again.

He tugged you in close, shamelessly rubbing his erection against your closed abdomen, and making his intentions known.

"Hell no," you retorted, smoothly, sure, but lacking in any real confidence in your rejection.

"Come on," he urged, hands and arms sliding away so he could skirt away from you.

You watched Hawks step towards the edge of the roof with the kind of confidence you would expect from a man that could fly. He casually sat down, rotated to sit longways, one leg spread out for balance while the other rested right at the edge. He leaned back, spreading one wing out along the gravely rooftop, while the other drooped over the side, feathers long and fluttering in the breeze like a crimson, tattered flag.

Hawks crossed his arms behind his head and laid back in full, looking boneless as he stretched out. He peered up at you with a wicked grin, eyes bright as they reflected the distant street lights.

"You're fucking ridiculous," you snapped at him, realizing too late that you were smiling dumbly at the shamelessly display in front of you. Your words lacked any real weight. Rather, you sounded amused or impressed, not angry.

God damn it.

"You love it," Hawks retorted with a soft laugh.

"No," you commanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Come on," he urged, rolling your name off his tongue like it was a delicious, sinful delight. "It'll make for a great memory - great story. Tell all your friends you fucked some guy on the edge of the roof. No risk: you know I won't let you fall."

"I wouldn't say 'some guy', even if I had friends to tell," you said to him grumpily, settling a weak glare on the winged villain.

Hawks removed his crossed arms from behind his head, placed one hand on the roof for balance, and leaned up. His cocky expression was gone, replaced with something soft, almost nervous, like he feared he misheard you.

"You'd tell them it was me?" he asked.

"Obviously," you uttered back.

A genuine smile found its way onto Hawks' face. Maybe, he was more deceitful than you gave him credit for. Maybe he knew damn well that you couldn't resist that face, that smile that lit up your heart, those mismatched eyes. Only foolish girls let themselves believe nonsense.

Maybe, you could be foolish sometimes.

You approached Hawks and he leaned back, excitement clawing its way onto his face as he realized he was going to get what he wanted. You smacked his chest and he fell back with a rough laugh.

A slight tug pulled his pants down enough to spring his cock free, already fully hard and leaking against his abdomen. Some distant thought was that you should have been surprised; but, Hawks had proved to be quite the animal, with such a miniscule refractory period and ready to go without much persuading.

You carefully slid on top of him, one leg braced on the roof against his side, while the other dangled over the edge. The weightlessness had you reeling back with a frightened whimper. Hawks grabbed your leg and pressed it tight against his side, keeping you planted on his lap.

"I got you," he whispered soothingly. "I got you, baby. I won't let you fall."

The bastard could fly. He was used to feeling weightless, to feeling nothing beneath his feet. You were not, and the very real risk of slipping over the edge was ever present when you felt the breeze, felt the lack of something beneath your heel.

However, when you planted yourself on Hawks, who was partially dangling over the side, you felt grounded. He felt sturdy and strong beneath you, no fear in his posture, arms and legs firmly planted, wings spread out to balance himself. He wasn't waddling back and forth with uncertainty.

It barely took you a second to relax, to feel safe when his hands gripped your thighs, holding you securely against his weight. Of course he could catch you; but, you doubted he would let you fall in the first place.

Sooner or later, you were going to have to learn to tell him no; but, that didn't have to be today.

"Have you done this before?" you dared to ask.

"Not with a partner," Hawks answered quietly.

You barked out a laugh at his answer, and watched a cheeky grin appear on the villain's face.

"What? Can a guy not jack off on the roof?" he barked.

"You're fucking horrible," you chuckled, slapping at his bare chest.

"I didn't splooge over the edge," he added on.

"You're ruining the mood," you scolded him.

Still, despite those words, and the obviously fact that he had in fact not ruined anything, you reached between your legs and grabbed at the hem of your shorts. They were wide enough that you could just pull them to the side-

Hawks choked on his next breath. You glanced up at his face. His head was angled down so he could steal a look at your sex so effortlessly becoming bare.

"Fuck," he wheezed, as if he hadn't seen you naked dozens of times by now.

Bare of underwear, fabric loose enough to just shift aside, you angled your hips until his cock caught on your folds. Hawks moaned when your wet slit trailed across his length, literally dripping over him.

"-ooohh, you're wet," he hissed softly, sincerely surprised at the discovery.

"You fucked me just a few hours ago, you animal," you retorted smoothly. Your level tone contrasted sharply with the sudden whimper that escaped you when his tip hooked on your entrance.

"Heh. Made you scre-"

Ah, you loved when Hawks gave you perfect opportunities to cut him off. You shifted your hips and sank down, enveloping his length in moist heat, and Hawks' words dissolved into a weak moan. There was no ache, as you were still prepped from earlier, likely still leaking some of him, as well.

Hawks wasted no time laying a hand against your lower abdomen. His thumb dipped between your folds and flicked skillfully at your pearl. The harsh texture of his calloused fingerprint had you whimpering and twitching. His other hand gripped your waist and guided you slowly up and down his length.

"Look down," Hawks instructed, not demanding, not crude, but soft and guiding. His eyes displayed a sort of devotion and hunger that had you helpless to do much other than obey.

Your eyes directed to the ground below, over sweeping floors, dozens of windows and a couple fire escapes. This high up, the ground looked so far away, cars like pill bugs you'd see waddling along the concrete at the community garden. Something electric shot through you, catching your breath in your throat, and Hawks let out a hoarse curse, hips shuddering.

"Fuck, you got tight," he hissed.

His hand let go of your sex and lifted up to cup your face. He turned you to face him, nudging your cheek lovingly with his knuckles. Immediately, you realized, it was his burnt hand.

You turned your head to kiss at his skin, tinged red from thick scar tissue and wrinkly. Slyly, he dipped his thumb into your mouth, the same that had been dipped beneath your folds.

"Don't be scared. I got you, baby," he cooed while you sucked the digit clean.

You smiled and laughed softly, popping his thumb out of your mouth with a lewd, wet noise. "Normal people are scared of heights, pretty bird."

"You're special," he protested, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip.

That praise had your heart fluttering, and you mentally scolded yourself for acting like a school girl.

He pressed down and dipped his thumb back inside, coaxing your tongue out until it lulled over your bottom lip. Normally, you swatted his hand away when he did things like that. But, it was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. One gold and one milky eye took you in with a heated gaze while he gently panted through slightly parted lips.

"That's a good girl," he praised, dragging the pad of his thumb over your tongue.

You likely looked ridiculous like this, impaled on his lap with your tongue hanging out. You almost wanted to smack him and tell him to quit; but, Hawks' hand retreated before you could tell him off.

That same thumb returned to your pearl, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. He lifted his lips a little, encouraging, the corners of his lips threatening to break into a pleased grin. You gently moved along with him, finding harmony in a steady rhythm that had pleasure sparking at your guts.

Your eyes wandered, taking in his aroused expression, exploring the plains of his muscular chest, across the burnt skin on one half of his body, to the red feathered wings that jutted out from behind him. You didn't look over the edge again; but, the sounds of the city were ever present, reminding you of where you were.

"Someone could see," Hawks suggested darkly.

You shuddered, head lulling back, and let out a weak moan. You didn't consider yourself much of a voyeurist; but, that was oddly exciting. You were covered up well enough. They wouldn't see much of you, but the act couldn't be mistaken for anything but what it was.

Hawks shifted his hand away from your pearl and grabbed at your hip, long fingers curling around the thickest part for purchase. You didn't have a chance to consider the lack of stimulation before one of his feathers replaced his thumb, twirling and flicking insistently at your nub.

You moaned again, and let yourself go partially limp, somewhat held up by your hands braced against his chest, but more so by his stronger hands holding your center. You couldn't keep up with him, letting his hands guide you up and down to his length to his liking.

"-know how good it feels," he continued, some strain in his voice as pleasure spewed in his core.

He lost balance a little and the wing drooped over the edge flapped once. It wasn't particularly strong; but, it was enough to startle a jolt and soft yelp out of you.

Your hands slipped, and you were suddenly chest to chest. Hawks bent one leg to lift you higher on his lap, shifting the angle enough to bring him deeper and amplify the pleasure. His cheek slid against your neck and his lips met your jawline.

"You want them to know what a slut you are?" he snarled, less of a question and more of a suggestion.

The sensible side of you wanted to deny it. What good could possibly come of that? The feral side of you, that Hawks so expertly brought out, disagreed. You weren't ashamed of him. You were the happiest you had been in years. He made you laugh, he made you smile, and he made you come harder than you ever thought possible.

He kissed and bit a burning hot path across your jaw, drawing some loose skin between his molars beneath your ear, before wandering across your throat. He mouthed at your pulse, and the reality that he was a wanted murderer rang loudly in your ears.

You didn't recoil of fear or disgust. You moaned, loudly, arching your back and exposing one of yourself to him. He had to resist the urge to lift your shirt and bite at your breasts. If not for your modesty, than because your poor nipples had already been quite thoroughly assaulted not too many hours ago.

His dominant hand slid up your thigh, long, thick fingers effortlessly venturing up the leg of your shorts. He curled his hand around the back and dragged the pad of his finger along your union, gathering slick and remnants of his earlier venture.

Your cloudy thoughts didn't consider what he was doing, until that finger, now wet and slippery, was suddenly circling your other hole. That had you letting out a confused gasp. He didn't press in, just traced the tight ring of muscle curiously, and took your noise positively.

Hawks knew well enough, but the mischievous glimmer in his eyes gave it away.

"Aww. Did Touya never touch you here?" he teased.

He pressed in slightly, being answered by your muscles flinching tightly, if your lewd expression didn't tell him enough. You looked confused, maybe even a little annoyed, but the arousal was still present, thick behind the glare you tried to give him.

As inviting as the heat was, he didn't venture beyond the pad of his finger, which felt like a lot more than it actually was. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good, either. You didn't know what to make of it, but found yourself arching into the touch, and downright mewling when he slipped out and returned to circling the ring of puckered muscle, which surprisingly did feel good.

"O-obviously, that's not-" you hissed at him.

Still, through all his teasing and adventuring touches, his hips never ceased, forcing his cock into your sopping wet cunt again and again. The wet, fleshy sounds was loud enough to drown out the bustling city beneath you.

"No more than this," Hawks promised in a hoarse whisper, hot breath fanning out over your throat.

His fingertip eased back in, met with blistering tight heat, and you let out a strange noise, confused and perhaps a little discomforted. No, that was definitely not a place you were used to being touched. But, he wandered that territory carefully, ever akin to your desires. As new as it was, there was no denying the way that touch made your skin prickle.

"You like it," he observed slyly. "Dirty girl."

It probably would have sounded more teasing if he didn't already sound so debauched, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to touch you as much as you enjoyed being touched. He had you wrapped around his finger. That much was certain. But, you weren't oblivious to the power you held over him.

"Keigo," his name slipped past your lips, breathless and dripping with lust. It wasn't really forced; but, you were intent on getting a rise out of him. "Keigo," and again. "Oh, Keigo," and again.

His teasing finger stopped and his hand shifted to grab at your meaty behind with an almost bruising grip. His pace was suddenly punishing, bouncing you in his lap almost ferociously while his hips pivoted to chase the sensation. He had you wheezing out breathless moans while he grunted and snarled beneath you.

"Close," he suddenly grunted, the word little more than a rumble in his throat.

"Yes," you agreed, deliriously high on the pleasure he pummeled into you.

It was impossible to know how he managed to hold off long enough to get you there first, or if it was specifically the tightening of your walls that got him there. You were mewling and twitching long before he howled out, and the heat of his seed burst inside you.

He was making a mess. You could feel it dripping down your thighs, sputtering out from his thrusting and leaking over his abdomen. Hawks didn't care, obviously, turning his head to kiss greedily at your mouth while his hips kept moving.

When he pulled back, you found yourself disappointed at the realization that he hadn't knotted. However, there was no way you were going to say that out loud. His ego was swollen enough already.

Careless to the mess, he lifted you off his length and helped you to your feet before adjusting his wet pants to at least clothe himself. Your combined fluids had made a mess all over the crotch of his pants, no doubt worse now that he tucked himself away. Your shorts were no better, and you could feel his seed leaking down your inner thigh.

The high wasn't quite over and Hawks was sporting an attractive red tint along his shoulders and chest, blonde locks an absolute mess. Still, at this moment, your focus was solely on getting back inside and cleaning up.

"You're the worst," you scolded him, sounding incredibly fond despite your insult. You took his arm instead of his hand and guided him back into the building.

Hawks swallowed a laugh and, together, you stomped noisily down the stairs. No one passed you by. If anyone spotted you, it went unnoticed. You hardly needed to drag Hawks, who was right on your tail. As soon as the door was opened, he pushed you inside, one arm wound possessively over your waist.

"Keigo!" you whined, flinching when his head ducked into your neck and gnawed at your skin.

"You got me riled up," he growled, pressing into you so you could feel how hard he still was. The sticky mess of his wet pants felt gross; but, you couldn't be bothered to care.

You wanted to tell him off; after all, you had done nothing, and he had done that to himself. But, you felt a tinge of discomfort at your core, aching and eager to be filled again. Your clit throbbed between your thighs, eager for more contact.

Hawks manhandled you onto the nearby wall, taking you by the elbows to plant your hands on the smooth surface. You didn't hesitate to make your consent known, arching your back and propping up on your toes as he roughly dragged your shorts down.

The fabric pooled at your feet, leaving your oozing sex presented to him. Your felt and heard his wings flap, so widely that they smacked against the walls in the small space. Knowing full well what he was doing, the sudden intrusion wasn't quite as surprising; but, still, he managed to force a startled moan out of you.

"Fuck," he snarled, forehead falling against your upper back.

His dominant hand reached around, circling your pearl as he found a steady rhythm. His seed from earlier oozed out, and it was equally disgusting as it was amazing. His free hand gripped your hips, holding you still so he could use you to his liking.

It felt amazing, and each shift of his hips punched a broken moan out of you. It didn't take long for you to feel it, the swell at the base of his cock, catching on your entrance, slowly working you open to take his growing knot.

"You want that, don't you?" he uttered harshly, tilting his head up to breathe the words into the space right above your ear.

Even though it was unnecessary, he made his point clear by shoving it all in, as deep as he could, and grinding, rolling his hips to let you feel the swell at the base.

You removed one hand from the wall, curved your arm back and reached blindly, skillfully finding his hair. Your fingers grabbed a fistful, rough but not enough to hurt him. Hawks snarled when you tugged him in, nails gently biting into his skull.

"You better," you whispered, demanding and hoarse, and apparently delicious enough that he had to stop his thrusts and tilt his head in for a kiss.

Suddenly, the closeness was everywhere, back to chest, thigh to thigh. You tilted your head back to make it easier to reach, and let Hawks kiss his way into your mouth possessively, first with soft lips before his tongue edged the soft skin apart. He dragged along your teeth before trailing your palate like he was tasting something divine.

Eventually, he was satisfied, parting from your lips with a loud pop, licking his own lips as if he had just enjoyed a delicious meal. He carefully peeled back, cock slipping free from your heat, hands letting go when he was confident you wouldn't fall.

An open palm collided with your behind, and the sound echoed around the apartment, drowning out your surprised squick.

"Get on the fucking bed," he all but snarled, the words clawing out through gritted teeth.

Your legs, steadier than you expected, carried you to the bedroom. Hawks, however, tackled you onto the mattress before you could make it, forcing you onto your back with his weight.

He chuckled into your skin and you squealed with laughter. Despite the impact, he was surprisingly gentle, mindful of his strength. Crimson wings flapped, nearly smacking into the ceiling. You briefly feared that he would get hurt on the ceiling fan, but immediately determined that he would be more likely to break it than be injured by it.

He peeled your shirt off, leaving you nude beneath him.

"I've made you such a slut for knots, hm?" he observed, leaning up on his knees to hover over you, and give you quite the view.

His cock was an angry shade of red, thick and heavy where it hung between his legs, almost tinted purple on the tip with the need for release. He had just a moment ago, and it made you wonder if the lack of knotting left him unsatisfied.

The beginning swells of his knot was an enticing girth right at the base, stretching the velvety skin of his shaft, and also tinted a dark shade of red. He was glistening all over, the tip oozing pre as if he hadn't come just a moment ago.

"-and I've made you a slut for me," you teased back, carefully placing your legs on either side of his waist.

He skillfully slipped into you with a pleased snarl, body slotting over yours carefully. He might not have been a giant, but Hawks was still bigger than you, enough to shadow you and leave you feeling small. He rolled his hips slowly, giving you a taste of that swelling before he began a steady rhythm.

Noises punched out of you, whimpers and moans and broken sounds that were almost his name. He balanced on his forearms, one on either side of your head to cage you in, while his legs planted on the bed and his tense abs did most of the work.

"So fucking good. Gnhnn - I don't deserve you," he babbled, uttering the words harshly into the space above your ear, tickling at your hair. "Beautiful and f-fucking perfect."

Hawks was a talker with almost no exception; but, still, despite having heard it all many times, he still managed to get a rise out of you, sweet nothings that made your heart flutter and skin prickle.

"Say you're mine," he demanded, tilting his head down to gnaw gently at your throat.

You swallowed, managing to catch your breath long enough to utter weakly, "'m yours, Keigo."

He lifted his head and dragged his forehead along your temple, huffing out dramatic breaths with each thrust of his hips. A bit more experienced now, you knew when he was close, when the catch became almost too much, the fullness dizzying and almost frightening. Your eyes fluttered open long enough to see his lustful stare, admiring the beauty of pleasure etched across your face.

You dragged your nails down his back, crying in ecstasy when the sparks ignited and pleasure soared through your core. Hawks' dominant hand roughly grabbed a fistful of the sheets, a frustrated grunt bursting from his throat before he roared, likely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

His thrusting ceased, less he timed it incorrectly and missed this. You made a very distinct noise at the intrusion, the same sound every single time, and it echoed so loudly in his mind. He felt overwhelmed with pride, that he could make you make a sound like that, so utterly debauched and in beautiful ecstasy.

Hawks' own moans, that came out of him like a chuffing tiger, were drowned out by your delicious whimpering. If the fullness wasn't enough, his cock jerked and spurted thick, hot streams of his seed. You could feel each twitch, until he shifted forward, as deep as he possibly could go, and finally stopped.

The muscles of his knot tightened as they finished expanding, locking your cores together. Hawks' head dropped and smacked onto the sheets by your ear. You tilted your head back, nose pointed towards the ceiling as you panted, and felt his rough, staggered breath as it burned your throat.

You felt more than heard the rumbling of his chest where it pressed down on yours. It was unmistakable: the sounds of a satiated beast. The thought had you stuttering out a breathless laugh.

Hawks' nose nudged your cheek and he hummed questioningly.

"You're purring," you answered softly.

"Oh," he answered bluntly.

Luckily, he didn't try to stop it; or, he was consciously unaware of it. Either way, you hoped he wouldn't stop. You loved the sensation of being trapped with him, impossibly close and stuffed like a used sex toy. Just as much, you loved knowing that he was pleased. Shameful as it all was, he had a way of making you feel shameless.

"Baby," he cooed, voice soft and breathless, a little hoarse, like a dying engine. "Are you okay?"

Your arms and legs were still around him, clinging tight like you didn't want to let go. You were strung out and limp, sinking into the sheets, head lulled back and clearly, very pleased. Still, Hawks kissed at your jaw like he was uncertain.

"Are you okay, pretty bird?" you repeated back to him, turning your head to meet his lips with your own.

He kissed you back as opposed to answering, the soft rumbling continuing until you felt it in your own throat. One of his hands tangled in your hair, kneading gently at your skull. Eventually, he peeled back and stared down at you, mismatched eyes unwavering, like you were a specter that would disappear if he glanced away.

He was the one who would be gone in the morning, leaving only an ache in your tummy to remind you that he was here.

But, you knew he would come back.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 3 - "Who did this to you?"

Fandoms: Linked Universe

Ao3

Warnings: major injury, attempted murder, blood, near-death experiences

---

Trouble comes with a smiling face; not that Wild knows that yet. All he sees is an eager young woman with kind eyes and a humble dress, offering to show him where he can get some wine to cook with tonight.

He and the rest of the heroes have been on the road for quite a while now, without a single town in sight. Nothing but various barns to cross their path. This is the first actual town they’ve seen in miles, even though it’s not a very big one. Yet, there is a small inn for weary travelers, and a marketplace near the front entrance of the town where farmers can sell their goods and towns-folk and gossip. The whole group of them are rather low on funds, but the market seemed like the perfect excuse to relax. Spend some money that they just barely have. Pretend to be normal people for just a few hours.

Just until sunset.

It was Wild, Twilight, Warriors, and Hyrule out in the market while the others were making deals with the innkeepers to get cheaper rooms and more beds. Wild wasn’t really sure what the others were wanting to find out in the market today, but Wild was on the hunt for quality ingredients for quality food that he couldn’t make while on the road. He planned on making a meal tonight fit enough for Zelda herself, and he needed wine to do it. Not to drink, of course not, but to soak into fine slices of meat to add extra flavoring. Nothing strong enough to get a man tipsy—and if he ends up with extra wine, he’ll put it in a flask and gift it to the Old Man. Hylia knows he deserves it.

But he couldn’t find anything even remotely related to wine in these small markets. Some stalls sell alcoholic jars of milk, but Wild honestly has never even heard of milk that could be alcoholic, let alone ever cooked with it. By the time the sun was starting to caress the horizon, frustration was bubbling in his belly because of this and all he could think about were those berries he saw on a tree a few days ago that looked perfect for making some of his own wine out of.

Twilight and Warriors were looking at a jewel-smith's stall, admiring the finely crafted trinkets and murmuring to themselves about the ones that would match her eyes, or impress that gentleman at the tavern, and Wild soon lost interest in both the stall and his love-sick companions. He had stood several feet off, leaning against a brick wall, eyeing the closest stalls to him and hoping for even a small sight of anything close to wine set up for sale.

And then he saw her. Trouble, despite him not knowing it. He didn’t even suspect it. Perhaps he’s gotten too used to the threats of other worlds, that he forgot the threats of his own.

She walked up to him, a swish to her brown dress that seemed to almost have a pink tint. Her hair was brown, done up in messy braids and a bun above her head. Wild assumed she was the daughter of a farmer who was selling crops from their farm, so he didn’t assess her too critically. Before he knew it, she was stopped a few feet from him, swaying her dress side to side between her thin fingers.

“Is there something you’re looking for, travelers?” she asked, her voice sweet like sugared honey. Beside him, Hyrule blushed a bit at the ears.

Wild wasn’t much in a good mood at the moment, but he decided that asking for help might be his only option at this point. “I’m looking for wine, or any kind of beverage like it made out of berries?”

The girl hummed, pressing her finger to her chin in thought. “The most popular beverage ‘round here is milk…” she said, and Wild’s shoulders slumped. But then she continued. “Though, I know a liquor shop further in town where they sell all kinds of drinks. I’ll show you the way, but it closes really soon.”

Hope surged in Wild’s chest. Perhaps he would be able to make a fancy meal tonight after all! Feeling in lighter spirits than he had all night, he told Hyrule to inform Twilight and Warriors that he would be going to the liquor shop. Wild barely noticed the slight hesitation on Hyrule’s face before he turned and did as he was asked. Wild should have noticed it. He should have thought more about how eager and smooth talking the girl was, should have been more in tune with his companion’s concerns, but he followed her out of the market anyway.

And now he’s here, laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood thanks to a hole in his stomach. The “liquor store” was nothing more than an abandoned shop several blocks away from the market, but he only found that out when he walked inside and saw the hastily put together lanterns to give the illusion of life, each one placed among dust and cobwebs. Before he could even turn back and question what was going on, the girl was sliding her arm around his side and heartlessly impaling him with a familiarly curved, sickle-like blade.

Her laugh was also familiar as his knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor, wheezing. Though not familiar in a way that he knew her name; he knew her kind.

“Wh-” he gasps, using one hand to clutch at the floor blanketed in bloody dust, and the other to press onto the wound in his stomach like he’s trying to keep everything in. “What-”

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here, hero,” the girl… Yiga chuckles, stepping over his crumpled body to squat by his head. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure either. I fell into a portal… and found myself in a whole new world. And I saw you, and your friends. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to take you down. This is for Master Kohga-” Wild’s too weak to fight her off as she reaches for his body, searching his pockets and taking the only healing potions that he had. “-and for Calamity Ganon. I don’t care what happens to me now, as long as you die painfully and slowly, right here.”

Then, she stands up, takes his potions, and leaves, shutting the door behind her as she laughs into the night.

Stupid. Wild is so stupid. How did he not guess something like this would happen? Did he truly let his guard down so badly that he forgot to always be on the lookout for Yiga soldiers? Has he become so comfortable traveling between worlds that didn’t have rogue Sheikah that it didn’t matter for him to worry about them as much?

He’s going to bleed out and die here, all because he wanted some wine to cook with in a town that only sold fucking milk and he couldn’t bother to make sure the person he was following was actually someone with good intentions. He can already feel his vision swirling, and his entire body feels pathetically weak and cold. The pain is unbearable, bringing tears to his eyes.

He coughs up blood, and does his best to prepare himself for a failure’s death, as he’s too weak to even call for help; let alone try and save himself.

Stupid…

His vision swirls white, and then fades black, and he knows nothing more.

-o-o-o-o-

“Something’s wrong,” Twilight says, several minutes after Hyrule told him and Warriors that Wild had gone off with some farmer girl to find a liquor store.

“Something is wrong,” Twilight repeats when they ask a local villager for directions to the nearest liquor store, and they reply the only alcohol this town sells is the milk in the market.

Hyrule is quick to point out the direction he remembers seeing Wild and the girl go off in, and then they thankfully split up to cover more ground. The second there’s no one to see, Twilight changes into his wolf form, sniffing the air desperately for his kid. Wild’s scent is one that he will always remember, it’s stored and locked within his brain, right next to Mipha, Zelda, and all the kids at Ordon.

He finds Wild’s trail after a nerve wracking few moments, and then he’s dashing through dimly lit streets like his life depends on it.

The feeling of something being horribly wrong only gets stronger when he finds Wild’s scent leading inside a run down looking building with dim, flickering lanterns in the windows. Then, the reek of blood hits his nostrils at full force. He shifts back into his human form and bursts into the front door without a single care on what’s on the other side.

The stench of blood is stronger here, even for his human nose. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that his eyes drop to the floor along with what feels like a stone in his stomach. Wild is at his feet, curled up like a child, red pooling around his terribly pale body.

“No-” Twilight drops down to his knees, already pulling out his spare red potion and gathering Wild into his arms. Wild makes a strangled groan through his throat, but his eyes are squeezed closed.

He’s alive though. The thought that he’s still alive is the only thing that gives Twilight enough strength to pull out the cork of his jar and shove the opening to Wild’s lips.

Wild chokes as the liquid enters his mouth, but Twilight doesn’t let up. It’s preferable to drink red potions, but when it comes to drastic situations like this, just getting it in the injured person's body is enough to save their lives. Wild coughs through the liquid and writhes in Twilight's arms, and it’s all Twilight can do to keep the bottle there and shakily whisper every comforting word that he knows. Eventually, color returns to Wild’s cheeks, and his eyes blink open blearily as his choking turns into instinctive swallows.

When the contents of the bottle is gone, Twilight lets the glass jar fall to the floor as he now uses his newly freed hand to check Wild’s wound.

It’s still nasty, and deep, but no longer life threatening. Another potion or some stitches and Wild will be as good as new. For the first time in what feels like years, Twilight allows himself to breath out a sigh of intense relief.

“Twi…?” Wild asks, voice incredibly small.

Twilight holds him just a little tighter, willing his heart to calm down. He’s almost… he’s come so close to almost losing-

“Who did this to you?” Twilight demands with a bite to his tone that he doesn’t mean to direct at Wild.

Wild doesn’t react to it though. He just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It… doesn’t matter…” he replies in a whisper. Twilight feels anger swell in his stomach and he almost argues back, but Wild talks more despite how much it must still hurt. “Later,” he says. “’M hurt, wanna sleep. Deal with… it later.”

Twilight takes a deep breath, counts to five, then lets it out. He doesn’t feel any less upset. However, he keeps his voice level, deciding that arguing with Wild here will just upset the boy more than help him.

“Okay,” he agrees reluctantly. “I’m going to carry you, okay? I’m out of potions, but Wars or Hyrule should be nearby with some of their own. Then we can go get a well deserved sleep.”

Wild simply nods and relaxes into Twilight’s arms, breathing a sigh and closing his eyes. Twilight bites his lip, then resolves himself to hold one of his dearest friends close to his chest as he stands up. There’s blood everywhere, staining his hands, his tunic, his boots, his pants. But he got here in time. Wild will be okay.

That’s all that matters now. Once Wild has all his color back and his stomach no longer has a hole in it… then Twilight can make sure whoever did this regrets being born.

“I got you, kid,” he says, “I got you.”

[amonrawya]

The Greatest Gift of All

(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

*

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town. 

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky. 

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning. 

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out. 

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast. 

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

*

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief. 

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being. 

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now? 

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

*

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life. 

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

*

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them. 

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition. 

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her. 

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

[nythberryy]

Hold Me Tight (Erwin x fem!Reader)

I wrote an Attack on Titan fanfiction (oneshot) in which Erwin Smith is a real gentleman.

Words: 2955

Warning:

The story contains 18+ scenes and builds up slow.

-They'd known each other for a long time, yet none of them confessed until that rainy night.-

It starts a bit sad, but trust me, it ends well. 💞

It's my first story written in English, so I apologize for grammatical mistakes and cringe writing.

I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable. 💞

(I also posted it on ao3. You can find me there as: NythBerry)

Thank you for your time!✨

September was usually gilded by the last sunbeams of summer, however that day was colder than usual. As clouds gathered, the sky turned grey. Raindrops began to knock on the red tile roof just to then fall and soak the ground. It was raining all day without a break. Everyone from the city struggled to get through the mud. The carts couldn't fight it, the horses neighed as they tried to push forward. Wooden wheels crackled, some even broke in two.

A tall man walked into the guesthouse. Water was slowly dripping from his clothes. With each step he made, he left a puddle on the freshly washed floor. (Y/N) recognized him in a blink of an eye though his face was covered by the green hood he was wearing. He stopped at the counter and revealed his face. His blonde hair, that was always slicked back nicely, now was a mess. Wet strands fell on his forehead.

(Y/N) put down the mop and wiped her hands to greet the man. "Erwin!"

"Good evening, (Y/N)! I'd like to book a room for tonight."

"What happened to your trousers?" it was covered in mud to the knee "Is it that bad outside?"

"It's raining quite heavily" he said "I don't think I would be able to go back tomorrow."

"I'll prepare a room for you. Just sit down please. There's no one here anyway, except an elderly couple upstairs. Do you want to drink something warm? Tea maybe?"

"Tea is fine, thank you."

Erwin took a seat in front of the counter and watched the woman placing the teapot on the stove. She quickly ran into the pantry and returned with a basket full of baked goods. She put some on a plate and gave it to the man.

"How's your father?" he asked while (Y/N) wiped the floor again. Her father owned this little guesthouse that once was famous.

"He's alright. But I'm afraid we won't be able to afford his medications. Less and less people can afford to book a room and we simply can't make the prices cheaper. I don't really know what to do."

"Don't worry, (Y/N)!" a kind hoarse voice appeared from behind. It was her father. "Welcome, Commander Smith! What brings you here again?"

"Good evening!" he greeted back. "Just another budget negotiation. As usual, the government has no intentions of increasing funds."

"As much as I want to support the Scouts, I unfortunately see why they don't want to do so in moments like this." Her father was in the regiment before he retired. Erwin and he shared similar views on the importance of going beyond the walls. "(Y/N)! Go prepare a room and find some clothes for him."

While she went to search dry clothes that would fit the commander, the two man began to talk about a different topic.

"I know why you visit this place so often" chuckled the father as he opened a bottle of whisky. He poured them both. "I see how you look at her."

For a moment Erwin didn't know what to say, which was quite unusual of him. A small smile curved his lips. "So, you found out my secret."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out. I have eyes. It's that simple." he sipped "You've known my daughter for years. Since when...?"

"It's one of those things that just can't be put in words. It was four years ago, that moment I realized I wanted to see her as many times as I could."

"Why didn't you tell her? You're afraid I'd bring the rifle? Or maybe you're more afraid of her? You think she would reject you?" he smiled "I can tell she has feelings for you too. Haven't you noticed how excited she is seeing you? She's not even looking at other guys, though she's in the age of marriage. What will she do when I'll be gone? At least you, as a commander, would make a great reputation for her." he joked "She'll be left alone like the last leaf on a tree before winter begins."

"That's why I won't tell her. I don't want to cause pain." he grabbed the glass and drank from it "To be honest, I don't even know if I'll be here next month. There's just no guarantee." he sighed "But I'm a selfish man. I still want to see her every time I'm near her. I'm truly the worst. I can't give her happiness, only suffering. I don't want (Y/N) to lose more people."

(Y/N)'s father knew Erwin was right. Her mother passed away, when she was fourteen; lost many loved ones when Shiganshina fell. Childhood friends, friends whom she trusted the most, old neighbours she liked and nearly all relatives of their family were gone now.

Both men knew the feeling. Without further words they agreed and sat back quietly.

(Y/N) heard the conversation. When she heard that Erwin had feelings for her, she thought her heart was going to break through her ribcage, like a desperate bird ready to be free. However, as he continued, her hearth shattered into pieces. (Y/N) pretended she didn't hear anything and told the blonde man his room was ready. He stood up and walked towards the stairs where she was standing.

"Change into these" she gave him the dry clothes "I'll knock on your door in ten minutes."

...

"Can I come in?" she asked. Erwin replied with a yes. (Y/N) walked into the room catching a glimpse of the commander's chest while he was buttoning the last button. He picked up the soaked clothes from the chair and held it out for (Y/N).

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"Erwin..." she began faintly and grabbed his arm "We need to talk."

"About what?" he looked surprised.

"I heard everything and-"

Erwin interrupted. "You don't have to worry about it. I won't do anything." he shook her hand off.

"You don't even want to know how I feel?"

"What would it change? You should find someone better. Someone who can be there for you. Someone who's not selfish. There're many good men out there."

"What about my choice? You think you can make decisions for me?"

He put the clothes back on the chair. "I don't want to put you through hell."

"It's already hell." she said with a slight hitch in her voice "You have no idea how long... How long I've ... Erwin..." Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheek.

It pained him to see the woman, whom he loved the most, looking so defeated.

"I love you, Erwin!" she cried out "And nothing can change that."

It snapped him out of his stubbornness for a second. He gently pulled (Y/N) into a hug, placing her head on his chest. The feeling of his warmth and beating hearth was pure heaven.

"I want you. Only you."

"(Y/N), I can't give you happiness."

"What it is at all?" she sniffled. "There's no such thing as that... It's not a destination you can arrive to and stay there for the rest of your life. Happiness is a temporary state. It comes and goes. And... What defines it anyways?

"I still don't want you to get hurt. Especially because of me." he paused for a bit "I could die at any time. What if I go on a mission and never come back?"

"You think I don't know that, Erwin? Every time you go out the walls I worry, but... Did you know that in this awful world you're the one who keeps me alive?" she pressed herself against his comforting chest "And what about you? You think you don't deserve your so-called happiness? If you have feelings for me, why don't you..."

As she looked up, her eyes met with his. Tears were coming to his sky-blue eyes.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"I am. I want you to hold me tight and never let go."

...

Erwin placed his hand on her face caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. He leaned closer to kiss her forehead, then gave another kiss on her nose making her blush. Finally, he pressed his warm lips against hers. He sucked her lips slowly, evenly, as he was dining something sweet as nectar. She was his delicate flower.

His kiss was subtle and tender, however a wave of heat flushed through him causing to kiss more passionately. Erwin slid his tongue across her bottom lip luring her mouth to open for him. His tongue swirled around hers composing an intimate, sensual dance. A slight moan escaped from (Y/N) in response. She slid her hands up his back, running her fingers through his soft blonde hair. As a result, he groaned, and the urge to pull her hips against his grew. As much as he wanted to devour her, he had to resist.

The commander pulled away, only to realize that he wasn't the only one getting excited. The woman's body was filled with desire too. He watched her chest rise and fall hastily with each breath she took. He couldn't help but admire the beauty that was in front of him.

"You're gorgeous, (Y/N)." he held both of her hands and placed two gentle kisses on them "If we don't stop now, I won't be able to hold back. You're driving me crazy."

"I feel the same. I want you, Erwin."

Their lips met once again. The passion they felt had been buried in their hearts for years. The man possessed her lips claiming every centimetre of it while she held onto his strong shoulders tightly. Erwin guided her slowly to the writing table, not breaking the kiss even for a second. He lifted her up and placed her on the desk.

The commander's lips travelled down her neck and goose bumps flooded her skin tilting her head to the side. He tucked her blouse out of her skirt to slide his large hands under the fabric. When he touched her stomach, a sudden thought startled her. What if she's not good enough?

"Erwin... The candles..."

"I want to see you" he whispered in her ear.

"But..." she grasped his shoulder.

"No buts. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. No one can compete with you" the man kissed her cheek "Can I take your blouse off?"

She'd been deprived for far too long of this man who now was standing right in front of her. She nodded, and looked away in fear of what he would see might disgust him. Erwin took it off her and freed her breasts from the undergarment.

"Look at me, (Y/N)." he begged and with a bit of hesitation, she did so, finding his sparkling blue eyes, so full of love and excitement, staring down at her. Meeting his gaze, she smiled sweetly before closing her eyes as he inclined his head. He also pulled his hips tight against hers. "You did this to me, (Y/N)."

He laid her down gently on the wobbly desk and his mouth was on her breasts quicky, conquering all of it. His fiery tongue played with one of her nipples while the other was held in his hand. Next, he travelled lower and lower, down to her stomach, only to find the skirt in the way. She felt a sudden wetness between her legs.

"Can I?" he asked for permission. She nodded. She ached for it.

He removed the skirt and her shoes too. Erwin placed a kiss on her beauty through her panties before he pulled it off and trailed it down her leg. He kissed the hill again and ran two fingers down on it.

"You're soaking already, (Y/N)." then he started to explore her slit with his tongue "You're so sweet, my darling."

He sucked on the folds a little, then parted them to make his way up to her clit which he tickled wickedly. With a finger he began tracing circles around her entry. Shortly after, he slid it in. (Y/N) flinched a little, letting out a moan. After he realized she could take more, he added another one.

She enjoyed it greatly. She grabbed Erwin's head, ran her fingers through his soft hair while pulling him closer to her hips. She wanted more. Erwin was surprised by her action, and began to lick and move his fingers more passionately. Her body was burning in explicit heat. A sudden wave of extasy rushed through her and he was proud seeing his efforts paying off.

The man straightened up to hurriedly rip his shirt off and throw it on the floor. (Y/N) was mesmerized by his well- built form. She wanted to touch it, so she sat up to lean closer. She explored each muscle with her finger, even caressed his hard nipples. She travelled further down to his pants. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as her fingers lightly touched his sensitised flesh made her wanting Erwin even more.

"If you touch me like that I might..." Erwin's mouth left an excited hiss as she pulled down his trousers a little.

He stepped back to take it off along with his shoes as well. As he tugged down his underwear, his rock-hard, massive manhood revealed.

"Well..." she said in surprise "That is a titan."

He couldn't help but giggle. (Y/N) glanced up, seeing him smile at her with a sweet, sensuous smile. He stepped closer to possess her lips and lift her up from the desk just to then put her gently on the bed.

He was on top of her. The woman's breast against his chest while she wrapped her legs around his trim waist made him lose it all. He wanted to be inside her.

"(Y/N)" he sighed "Can I?"

"Yes, Erwin!"

He began to trace her entry in circular motions with his member. Softly, he placed the tip inside. She moaned in pain, feeling it tearing her walls.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asked with worry in his eyes.

"I'm okay. It's okay" she caressed his clean-shaved face. "Go on, my commander."

Their lips joined again, while he grabbed her hips and plunged deep inside her. He waited a little so she could get used to his size. A couple of minutes later, he began to move gently, sliding in and out gradually going further and speeding up the rhythm. As he heard her sweet moans, felt her warmness and tightness around him, he fell into an abyss of pleasure. Erwin couldn't tame his desire anymore, finding himself thrusting into her with an enormous intensity. He couldn't get himself to stop now. He wanted her.

Erwin grunted and groaned which she found immensely sexy. The pain already faded away, endless pleasure and joy replaced it. His thick hands made their way up to her breasts, grabbing it with more and more greed.

"I love you, Erwin" she cried out.

"I love you more."

Shameful sounds filled the room and the man increased his speed to the maximum. (Y/N) latched onto his shoulders and buried her head into his chest, trembling hard against him. A wave of pleasure started to hit them both. She tightened around his manhood, and he couldn't hold on any longer as she continued to clutch. The unbearable yet wonderful torture of being lost in her made him release his seed inside of her. It was an indescribable feeling being filled up by the man of his dreams. They remained like this for a while, panting heavily.

Erwin pulled out of her but didn't let go as he wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm sorry." he said, stroking her hair.

"For what?"

"For loving you so badly, that I lost myself and couldn't hold back."

"You're so silly." she chuckled "I enjoyed every minute of it."

"Can I clean you up?" he asked placing a gentle kiss on her forehead "I've made a mess down there"

She nodded and the commander put his underwear on. He brought a wet towel and sit back on the bed. He gently spread her legs to wipe her womanhood. Then he softly stretched her entry with his finger. Erwin blushed as he saw his liquid oozing out of her.

"Erwin?" she noticed the rosiness on his cheeks.

"Nothing..." he said looking away "I apologize."

"No need to." she sat up giving him a quick little kiss on his pink cheek "I love you!"

"I love you more, (Y/N)"

...

Morning came shining its warm, golden sunbeams. All the clouds were gone and she was in his arms, all his and he would never be so foolish to let her go. She opened her eyes, only to get lost in his sky-blue iris.

"Good morning, love!" he caressed her face.

"Morning, Erwin..." she yawned and quicky realized, that she should've been up a long time ago. "My god! I should be downstairs! What time is it? Oh! And I haven't even washed your clothes!"

"Shhh..." he stopped you from jumping out of the bed by hugging you from behind "No need to hurry. It's only six thirty."

"I wake up at five!"

"You're open at seven..."

"Yes, but there's work to do. Buying things from the market, breakfast to prepare, cleaning..." she counted on her fingers.

"It can wait. Just stay with me like this for five minutes"

"Then hold me tight, Erwin."

She couldn't resist him. She was lost in his alluring presence whenever she was with him. It was pure heaven to be in his loving arms.

The end

[achaoticeternal]

THIS IS ME TRYING

AVENGERS X READER (tony stark x daughter!reader, platonic peter parker x reader) masterlist // taglist

Request: @big-galaxy-chaos​ “Hey so I see that you also need requests as much as I do 😚 so here is mine! So it's Peter x stark!reader angst. Where Tony is afraid of becoming like his father but in reality, he is worst than him. He favors Peter more than her. Even though she is smarter than her own father, and won tons of awards and shit. Tony doesn't realize what he lost until the reader is gone. Btw the relationship between the reader and Peter is platonic! Also, everyone is oblivious to how she is feeling. Just pure angst”

Summary: Dads and daughters are supposed to have a beautiful relationship. But you could never be the song he always wanted. Word Count: 2.5K A/N: Based on the song this is me trying by Taylor Swift. Reader and Peter are both 18+; takes place after Thanos and Tony lives. Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, self destructive behaviors, mentions death

“Mr. Stark, I’ve been working on the chemical formula of my webbing and I’m pretty sure that I’ve completely perfected it,” Peter talked while walking with your father to the lab.

“That’s great because I’ve been working on your web-shooters. Now, they can shoot up to 200 yards in length and the error rate of them getting jammed is less than one percent.”

Tony rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they left the room together. Neither of them acknowledges you on the couch, reading another novel involving quantum physics. But you’re used to the cold shoulder your father has given you since he first met Peter Parker. You’re used to the way he’s turned you away all your life, justifying his choice by saying he’s protecting you. 

You knew that he feared to become his father. Pepper explained that to you when you were a child and you couldn’t leave your room until Tony’s lady of the night let. Or as you and Pepper called it at the time “taking out the trash”. 

Maybe that was when you became more interested in the mathematics and science you found in the book and the workshop over good ole bonding time with dear old dad. If he wanted to neglect the time and opportunity to raise you, you would at least make sure to put his money and name to good use for your own personal benefit. And in the back of your mind, you knew that part of you was doing this to earn the attention and love you desired from your father.

Tony just saw it as taking an early interest in your future. So he didn’t stop you when you preferred to sit with tutors over playdates, draw out designs for engines and inventions instead of scribbling in coloring books, or even reading through scientific theories over watching Disney movies. He didn’t think it was strange, because that’s what he did at your age. Hell, by the time you were 10 you had won three first-place national science fair ribbons, third place in the national spelling bee, and began developing a prototype to turn the emissions from cars back into breathable oxygen. 

Everyone noticed your brain, and how much you had achieved now at 18 years old. You held 2 Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering and Organic Chemistry from MIT and a Master’s in Astrophysics from Georgia Tech. And you were now planning out when you wanted to go to Law school and earn your doctorate. But you were living at the compound now, taking a gap year.

When you went away for school, you learned from others how normal life was for everyone else. You met kids who were the first in their family to go to college or were looking for opportunities outside of the small towns they came from. When you came home from your second semester at MIT, you told Tony about all this and he created the September Foundation in order to fund the projects and inventions those kids were creating. It was another punch in the gut to you, because you realized that you would never be enough for Tony.

If you were enough, he would have passed the mantle of Iron Man onto someone else after he almost lost you and Pepper to the Mandarin. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have enlisted Peter to help him in his fight against Captain America. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have gone into space for a final fight. If you were enough, Morgan wouldn’t be in the other room watching cartoons. And if Tony acknowledged you, just even a little but, maybe you wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress him and the world.

“Ms. Stark, your package has arrived. Shall I send it over to the labs?” F.R.I.D.A.Y echoed into the room.

“No, send it over to my personal workshop. In fact, send all of TS-2008 to my personal workshop.”

“Of course, miss.”

“Oh, and F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Please stop referring to me as ‘Ms. Stark’, (Y/N) is fine.”

“Alright, CASS, reboot the system diagnostics and run test C-24,” you yawned as you asked your personal AI system. The personal AI system you built for yourself, bu yourself - no help from Tony at all. 

“Systems are checked out, shall I launch the test?”

“Go for it,” you groaned and took to Advil for your poundingheadachee. It was now two in the morning after another long night of coding, calibrating, testing, and perfecting the project you’ve been working on the past two years. 

When you were younger, you tried to replicate the Iron Man suit, but your father quickly discovered the helmet and nearly perfected arc reactor you’d created in his lab. He trashed all of it and told you never to attempt to create the suit again. He said you were better than that, that you had more potential than pretending to be a superhero. You realized as you grew older that he didn’t care if you were trying to become a hero or not; but that you were copying his work. His precious Iron Man that he took months to perfect only took a week for his child to solve.

Dear old dad couldn’t let you have things the easy way. So instead after SHIELD fell and Tony began working to finish wiping out HYDRA, you began working on your own original model suit. Now it was almost ready to showcase to the world. 

“Test C-24:successful. Shall I continue to run diagnostics to watch the processing and reaction time of TS-2008?”

“Yes, CASS. Run virtual simulations L-29, O-400, and T-38. Let me know when the trials have finished running and whether or not they were successful or not.”

“Yes, Ms. (Y/N),”

You pushed away from your desk and left your workshop. Before you knew it, you were in the kitchen pouring yourself another cup of coffee. You had been through 3 pots already tonight and no one noticed. Guess that was the nice thing about being Tony’s kid. Everyone else acknowledge your accomplishments and paid no mind to your destructive tendencies. In fact, maybe you’d celebrate tonight and snag a bottle of champagne from the extravagant wine fridge next to the dishwasher. You’d done it plenty of nights before when you wanted to drown out and numb the pain in your heart.

“(Y/N)? Why are you awake? And why are you holding a bottle of champagne?”

Ah, Peter... of course he would be spending the weekend at the compound. It’s not likely he has a perfectly good and happy home back in Queens with a guardian who loves him very much and would give the world to him. Guess that’s something May and your Father. 

“Hello, Perfect Parker”

“You know I’ve never understood why you call me that, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t make sense from your end of the looking glass.Why are you up?” You tried so hard not scowl or be too rude. Peter had tattled to TOny before about you having a ‘bad attitude’ towards him.

“I believe I asked you that first.”

“That you did, but if you want an answer out of me, you’ll have to answer first.”

“I couldn’t sleep. thought I would get myself a glass of water. You?”

“I’m getting wasted, just like all my potential,” You faked a smile and started peeling the gold wrapping off of the cork of the bottle.

“Don’t say that, everyone knows how talented and brilliant you are,” He sighed while grabbing himself a glass and walking over to the fridge, “You’re a Stark”

“Tell that to Dad, because you’ll always be more of a Stark than I’ll ever be,” You huffed as you pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer near you.

“That doesn’t make any sense, (Y/N), are you sure you haven’t been drinking already? Because you sound delirious. Maybe you should spend some time outside of your bedroom, maybe even get out of the compound. When was the last time you left to go somewhere?”

“Thanks for the concern Parker, but I’ve been able to hold my own for at least fifteen years now. And I know I don’t leave here a lot because I don’t have the opportunity too. If there’s a private event, either Pepper attends with Tony or Spider-man makes an appearance with Iron Man. I’m just surprised that there aren’t rumors across the media wondering ‘Is Spider-Man the lost of the Iron Man, Tony Stark?” You waved your hand in the air to match the dramatic tone.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” He took a sip out of your water, “People know you exist”

“Yeah, maybe if they do a quick Google shirt. But I’m not offended, I know that I just live in your shadow. But I’m used to it,” Your poured the alcohol into a glass and began to sip from it, relief flooding through you.

“Okay , I get it. You’re just in another one of your dramatic moods, maybe you should just go to bed before you say or do something stupid,” he took a step towards you.

“Don’t I always?”

“Always what?”

“Say or do something stupid?”

He halted and shook his head, “That’s not what I meant, (Y/N), I-”

“No, that’s exactly what you meant, Parker,” You brushed past him and stormed into the living room, “You don’t understand how lucky you are.”

He came stomping after you, “Oh, so you’re feeling brave, huh? Well you just sound like an idiot. I’m not just some lucky kid! I’ve lost my parents, my Uncle was killed in front of my face, and I disappeared from existence! The only people who care for me are Aunt May and Tony.”

You turned to face him, face completely red, tears threatening to spill, “Well at least you have Tony, because I don’t! I’ve just run around all my life trying to be perfect, be easy for him to deal with, live up to his and everybody's expectations! But I’m not good enough, I’ve never been good enough, and I’ll never be good enough. I’m just Tony Stark’s bastard child who built herself from the ground up without the slightest bit of help from her father!”

“(Y/N)...”

“No, don’t you ‘(Y/N)’ me. You’ve gotten everything you wanted from my father since day one. I never had that. You didn’t have to work to really make your own suite, you didn’t have to endure a lifetime of pain because of his arrogant ass, YOU didn’t have to wonder where Tony was on your graduation day for MIT - his alma mater - because he attended your fucking high school graduation instead!”

“What the hell is going on?” Tony yelled from the opposite end of the room. Pepper stood behind him and you could hear other door creaking open to here the events down the hall, “Not only are you two fighting in the living room and woke up half the compound, but you woke up Morgan and now she’s crying in her room because you two are screaming at each other.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo, poor Morgan woke up in the middle of the night,” you mumbled to yourself.

“I just came to get a glass of water,” Peter attempted to defend himself.

And from Tony and Pepper’s angle, he did look to be more innocent. He had a glass of water in his hand and was completely cool. While you stood opposite of him; a bottle of booze in one had, dark circles under your eyes, a tear stained face, and looking to be in a mad frenzy.

“(Y/N), explain yourself,” Tony spoke sternly.

You took a deep breath in and wiped away fresh tears with your sleeve, “No, I don’t have to.”

“Excuse me,” your father marched across the room, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight but-”

“What’s gotten into me? Do you even listen to the bullshit that comes out of your mouth? No, of course you do, because you like listening to yourself talk more than you’ll listen to me. So talking to you is as fucking useless as talking to a deaf man!”

Peter and Tony now stood stunned at you and your sudden tantrum, but you knew it had been coming, you had always known. You knew one day you were going to explode, and it just happened to be tonight.

“I get it, I’m not precious Peter, or your beautiful Morgan. I’m just your bastard child from some broad you met on Malibu Beach. Even though I’m just a kid, I’ve always been your competition, a threat to you and your name. And even after every nearly life-ending event, I thought things would change - that you’d finally love me. But that never happened not even after Extremis infected not just Pepper’s body, but my own! And now I’m dying, I’m fucking dying, dad. I’m running out of time and trying to do everything I can. I go to school and get these diplomas and certificates to impress you. I invent and build thing to get your attention. I do it all because I still desire your validation and I’m running out of time,” you fall to your knees, everything becoming to much, “this is me trying, just like I have been all my life- but it’s still not enough.”

The room went silent. Only sobs echoed around the room as champagne poured out the bottle, staining the carpet. Neither Tony or Peter knew what to say or what to do. How could they begin to comfort the crying girl on the floor, or fix everything that ha occured over a lifetime.

Tony finally knelt down, “(Y/N), you know I never meant for any of this to happen, for you to ever feel like this. I’ve always been so scared of becoming your grandfather... I thought I was doing right by never pushing you, I guess it just never clicked.”

“Oh yeah, is that why you pushed me away and found Peter? And then when you realized you had messed up and forgot about your first daughter, you had another one in order to make things up?” You raised to head and shoulder up first, then finally rose back onto your two feet, “well congratulations, you’re worse than Howard Stark. And I hope you’re proud, Dad.”

With that, you left the living room. You couldn’t deal with in anymore that night, maybe ever again. Because when Tony came to check on you the next morning, you were missing. Only a note by your bedside remained as the only proof you had even lived in the room.

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

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[andromedasstarship]

faceless, nameless - chapter 2

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - kylo ren x reader

warnings - canon-typical star wars violence, torture, fighting, angst. 

summary - You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red.

blog rules

a/n - i dont claim any ownership over dialogue pulled directly from the films :) this chapt is like 3.5k so buckle up!!! 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

chapter 1 // next chapter 

-----

the stars

Present Day 

Starkiller Base. 

A few months ago, you had given everyone on base a lesson in First Order torture techniques. Personally, you thought it was a rather pointless activity, knowing full well that none of them would ever be even slightly capable of standing up against Ren. Poe blabbed on about ‘hope’ and ‘they need to be able to find comfort’ and other random ‘good guy’ optimism nonsense. At the end of your lesson you stressed that the best chance they had of keeping their mouth shut was to find a memory- a good one-, and latch onto it as tight as possible until the Order was finished with them. 

Poe was really glad he talked you into giving that lesson, seeing as your advice had helped him withstand the past few hours of near constant torture at the hands of the Order. Various troopers and officers had come and gone, all failing in their attempts to extract what he had done with the last piece of the map to Skywalker. 

Around hour three his body began to give out and all he could think about was how you certainly hadn’t been lying in your constant complaints about how cold Starkiller was. As he faded into unconsciousness, he silently prayed you weren’t having a full blown breakdown and that BB-8 had somehow managed to find you on Jakku. 

When he woke again, no clue how much time had passed, he was greeted with a deep modulated voice from the other end of the room. Ren. 

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Ren stated, voice flat. “Comfortable? 

“Not really.” Poe responded, voice equally as flat. Behind his mask, Ren was staring quizzically down at him. Ren was more than used to the feelings of intense hatred that his prisoners projected towards him- if anything it was the expected response-, but there was something so different about the emotions Poe was projecting, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was so... personal. 

“I'm impressed, no one has been able to get out of you, what you did with the map.” 

It didn’t take a genius to know what was coming next. Not bothering to respond, Poe started to slip back away into his happy memory. In his mind, you were there, back turned to him but he could still hear you laughing as the two of you ran through the field by his childhood home 

He was forcibly removed from the memory when Ren reached outwards, slamming Poe back against the chair, with the Force. “I see.” Ren said darkly, twisting his hand ever so slightly, watching in enjoyment as Poe began to strain against the pressure building in his brain. 

Poe’s mind was panicked, trying in vain to hide the memory of you, but it was too late, as Ren had already caught the tail end of it. 

“Is it a girl that holds the last of the map Dameron?” Ren taunted, forcing his way deeper into Poe’s mind. 

Poe’s face was scrunched up in agony, desperate in his attempts to shield your identity from Ren. Ren mistook the admirable struggle as proof that it was this girl who held the key to the map, rather than Poe’s personal attempts at keeping you safe. Ren continued his mental assault, breaking down every mental wall Poe tried in vain to put up. 

A flash of your masked face. Ren was getting closer. 

Then there it was, you- unmasked, no disguise-, staring up at Poe in his memories. 

Poe in his panic started thinking of every single thing he could- what he ate for breakfast before he left, the color of his favorite shirt, the list of chores he had to do on base-, anything to try and divert Ren from you. 

It was like time stopped, the mental probe retreated only for an instance before Ren was back in Poe’s head with a new unrelenting force, pulling up Poe’s most recent and clear memory of you. 

“I don’t like the idea of this.” You said quietly.

“Have I ever let you down Princess?” Poe said with a grin. When that didn’t seem to amuse you, he put a hand on your cheek, angling your face up towards him. “Three days, I’ll see you on Jakku then. I promise.” 

And then the memory was gone. 

----

Jakku. 

It had been two years since Poe and blondie- you later learned his name was Leokai-, had stumbled upon you bleeding out in the sand. Adjusting to Resistance life had been difficult and for months you thought you’d never gain their trust. It wasn’t until you had accompanied Poe to a Resistance ‘recruitment’ meeting and noticed a First Order operative slinking around the crowded room. You had quite literally dragged Poe as far away from the building and off the planet in a matter of minutes, effectively saving him from giving a ‘we’re right here’ speech directly to the Order. After that, the general opinion about you among Resistance members turned positive. 

You still donned a disguise for their safety, lest their mind was ever blended up by Ren. It was incredibly simple, a well designed wig and different colored contacts. Natural enough that you’d never attract undue attention, but still enough that unless Ren had specific intel to look for this version of you, he’d never double check a fleeting memory that might include you; luckily no one had been unfortunate enough to test this theory. During any official Resistance business or battles you donned a plain white mask that wrapped securely around your face. 

When you first got the mask, you and Poe had had a field day with it, trying to figure out how much movement it could handle before falling off; Leia had actually caught the two of you trying to tie yourself to Poe’s X-Wing to see if that would finally get the thing to move. 

All in all, life with the Resistance was treating you pretty well. Except for right now, as you anxiously waited for Poe in a small nondescript ship on the outskirts of the Niima Outpost in Jakku. Poe, you had quickly learned, was one of the biggest idiots you had ever met. You weren’t exactly sure how he had talked you into splitting up for this mission. Splitting up was never a good idea, how had every horror HoloNet show not taught him that already? But Poe had made an undeniable point, the First Order- the Knights of Ren specifically-, were hot on his trail for the last piece of the map to Skywalker and you couldn’t risk being caught up in that fight. 

So, you agreed to split up. But Poe was late.  Late enough to warrant the uncontrollable worrying. Ever since ‘the incident’ you had developed a horrible case of ‘abandonment issues’; everyone reassured you it was a perfectly reasonable response, but you hated it, the complete lack of control over your own brain drove you nuts. You were pacing back and forth, doing your best to calm your nerves. Wherever Poe was, for his sake, you prayed he had a damn good reason for being late. Knowing that you were full of nerves,  Poe had even given himself a very wide arrival time so you wouldn’t worry. But here you were, worrying . 

Unable to wait around any longer, you decided to gear up and make your way to the outpost. If you were lucky, maybe someone had seen him or maybe you’d even find him yourself. You pulled your hair tight to the back of your head, clipping it in place, before sliding your mask on. As you headed out the doors of the ship you grabbed your staff, slinging it around your shoulder. A year ago, you managed to finally access funds that you had left behind on your home planet. Not only did it help purchase a lot of life saving supplies for the Resistance, it also meant you were able to buy and build a brand new staff for yourself. It wasn’t as advanced or sleek as the one you used in the Order, but it did the job just as well. 

The trek to the outpost would only take less than an hour, giving you adequate time to try and calm your nerves. You made a list as you walked, you made a lot of lists these days, having found it greatly helped in controlling your anxiety. 

Poe was just a bit lost, his sense of direction was never as good on the ground as it was in the air. 

Poe was being his charming self and chatted up someone a little too well and lost track of time. 

You still had your ship and if he wasn’t back by the end of the day you’d be going back to D’Qar and putting together an official search party. 

You struggled for a solid fourth item, but by then you were just reaching the outpost. It was loud and dirty and unlike anything you’d ever been to before. No one gave you a second glance, which you were grateful for. As you made your way through the many stalls you were growing more and more antsy, none of the people you saw being Poe. 

Nearly two hours had passed and you had thoroughly walked through the entirety of the outpost, not that there was much, at least ten times. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to the ship, a familiar shade of orange and beeping caught your attention. You almost fell to your knees in relief when you saw BB-8. Except he wasn’t with Poe, but rather a...scavenger girl? It was like BB-8 could feel your eyes on him, because he turned around to look at you and began beeping excitedly. The girl beside him turned to face you as well and without thinking you got a better grip on your staff and ran at her. 

The girl’s face morphed in confusion, but quickly put together what was happening and got her own staff into position, giving you one last look before she turned and started to run as well. Her hesitation and your own speed meant you easily caught up, swiping at her legs which sent her topping down. She hit the sand hard, not letting it stop her as she rolled to her back and instinctively pushed her staff upwards, expecting yours to come down. 

What she definitely didn’t expect was the electrical end of your staff, on and buzzing, pointed straight at her face. 

“You stole this droid.” You hissed. 

Before she had time to respond, BB-8 was rolling up to the two of you, beeping like hell. It was a funny mix of ‘I’m so excited to see you’ and ‘please don’t hurt this girl’ and ‘I’ve got so many stories to tell you’ and ‘I promise this girl did not steal me’ and other random beeps. He was talking so fast and your head was still clouded with adrenaline, so it took you longer to process what BB just said. As soon as you realized the girl hadn’t just not stolen him, but rather saved him, you turned the electrical current off and pulled your staff away from her face. 

You stuck your hand out, glad she was unable to see the look of pure embarrassment on your face. “I um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have chased you like that, I just saw BB and…,” you trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself. 

Luckily, the girl grasped your hand and lifted herself off the ground. “I would’ve done the same, I think.” She replied, giving you a tentative smile. 

You still had so many questions unanswered, but before you could say anything BB-8 started beeping like crazy again; saying something about how he could see a man up ahead-staring at the three of you-, that was wearing his master’s, Poe’s, jacket. 

Not bothering to apply any of the lessons you had just learned from storming the girl, you switched the electrical end of your staff back on. A quick look at the girl told you she had the same idea, both of you getting better grips on your staffs. Both of you took off in a sprint towards the man and you  almost  felt bad for him- you were clearly taking him by surprise, the way his eyes widened like saucers-, but he was wearing Poe’s jacket. 

His attempt at escaping was short-lived. The girl swung out in front of him, shoving him to the ground- quite similar to what you just did to her-, and you quickly took up the rear, positioning the electrical end right at his throat.  

Everyone was breathing heavily, no one had expected to do so much running today. You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red. You pressed the tip of your staff to his chest, not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to send a shock through his body. 

“I’m only going to ask once,” you started, glaring up at him from behind the mask, “where, did you, get that jacket?” Punctuating each pause with the lightest of electrical taps. 

“Ow! Ow! Quit that! I’ve had a pretty messed up day, alright? I’d appreciate it if you stopped accusing me-” 

“Liar!” You yelled, putting the end back in his face. “You stole it from his master,” you said, tilting your head towards BB-8 who was beeping in agreement, “I’ll give you one more chance to answer honestly.” 

FN-2187 raised his hands up in surrender. You studied his face for a moment, searching for any signs of deception; there weren't any, but that explained nothing. “I swear! I swear, his name is Poe. That’s right? Poe Dameron.” 

At the sound of Poe’s name your shoulders relaxed a little bit, but the relaxation was short lived as you FN-2187 continued. 

“He was captured by the First Order.” 

No. 

“I helped him escape okay, but we crashed a little further out,” FN-2187 was silent for a moment, “Poe didn’t make it.” 

No No No No No No No No No. 

“You’re…, you’re lying.” You said angrily, unable to accept that as truth. When all FN-2187 did was give you a look full of  pity, you hit the switch on your staff, pulling it back to your body. “You’re lying…” You repeated, much weaker this time, glad that they were unable to see the tears forming behind the mask. 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” FN-2187 said quietly, in a voice that was just the right amount of sincere to be true. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw BB-8 start to roll away, you couldn’t let him get lost now. “If you even, think, about running away while I go get the droid, you won’t live to see another day.” You threatened, quickly turning on your heel to go catch up with BB. 

In your absence, the girl and FN-2187 were both still quite winded. At least you had gone into the outpost knowing there was potential for action, the two of them were completely caught off guard. 

“Are you with the Resistance too then?” The girl asked. 

A fleeting look of confusion appeared on FN-2187’s face before he jumped up and nodded. “Yes, yes I am. I am part of the Resistance. A Resistance member.” 

“I’ve never met a real Resistance member before. And now in one day, I’ve met two.” The girl replied, with a gentle smile on her face. 

By the time you managed to get BB and ‘drag’ him back to where the other two were standing, they had finished their conversation. FN-2187 tensed up when you reappeared, something you were okay with, not wanting him to feel too comfortable around you. 

No one had time to say anything before the sound of blaster fire diverted all of your attentions. A quick look up at the sky confirmed your one of your worst fears, the First Order was here. FN-2187 grabbed both of your hands and started pulling.

“Don’t grab my hand!” You and the girl both shouted out, but running alongside him anyway. The three of you weaved your way out of the Outpost, doing your best to avoid the unrelenting fire of bullets and bomber shots the Order was raining down on you. 

“They’re gunning for me!” FN-2187 screamed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“They’re gunning for all of us, especially the droid. Now keep up!” You yelled back. It didn’t take much mental strain to understand that if Poe had really been captured and had really crashed on Jakku after escaping, that the Order would’ve followed him here. Your feet pounded the sand, pushing yourself ahead of FN. 

“We can’t outrun them!” FN-2187 called out from behind you. 

The girl was ahead of you and she pointed out towards a quad jumper. “We might! In that quad jumper.” All of you running towards it as fast as you could. 

Of course, as soon as the words left her lips, the TIE fighter tailing you blew the thing to smithereens. All three of you seemed to pause for a moment before the girl started running towards a hunk of,- oh my god was that the Millenium Falcon-  junk to her left. 

“Hey! We still need a pilot!” FN-2187 screamed, still running a few paces behind you. 

“I can pilot anything!” You yelled out, not bothering to look at him over your shoulder. The three of you, plus BB, raced up the walkway of the ship, slamming the door shut behind you. 

“Gunning position is down there.” Rey said hurriedly, pointing at a set of stairs. She didn’t look back as she rushed ahead to the pilots seat. 

Just as FN-2187 got ready to mount the stairs you grabbed him by the back of Poe’s jacket and yanked him around to face you. 

“Not the time-”

“If you do anything down there to make me believe you’re still working for them, FN-2187, I won’t hesitate to come down here and gouge your eyeballs out myself.” You spat, relishing in the way his eyes widened at the use of his official call number. You didn’t give him the chance to reply, just let go of his jacket and made your way to the front of the ship to co-pilot. 

The girl was already pulling the ship into the air by the time you made it up there. You wasted no time, quickly throwing yourself into the chair beside her. Both of you fumbled to pull on headsets as you worked the controls. “Stay low.” You ordered. 

She gave you a confused look. “What?” 

“Stay low,” you said more urgently, “it confuses their tracking.” 

The girl went low and you were glad you were strapped in. You didn’t expect the smoothest of rides, but it was certainly  jerky . 

The constant sound and feel of blaster shots hitting the exterior of the ship were making it difficult to focus. “What are you doing down there!” You screamed into the headset. “Shoot back!” 

“I’m trying,” FN screamed back up, “are the shields up?” 

You blindly reached over and smacked a button. “Yes! Now shoot !” You yelled. 

Where FN-2187 was lacking, the girl was making up for it tenfold with her piloting ability; this girl was good. Internally, you knew you were being unreasonably hard on him; it wasn’t so far fetched to believe that someone would defect from the Order, hell you defected- even if it wasn’t necessarily your choice-, and your position and relationship to the Order had been much more intimate and substantial than a ‘trooper. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you focused on helping the girl pilot the ship. The two of you working in unison to attempt to shake the TIE’s trailing you.

“Hold on!” She shouted and in the background you could hear FN asking what for. The girl pulled on the steering hard and you went veering to the right before she rolled the ship around, giving FN the perfect shot at the last TIE. You internally promised yourself, that if he missed this fighter you’d be fulfilling your eye gouging promise. Luckily for all of you, but especially FN-2187, he blew the TIE fighter right out of the sky. 

“Wooo!” In the rush of the moment, you weren’t exactly sure who was whooping and hollering, it might as well have been all of you. 

Once you felt the ship was out of imminent danger and safely gliding through space, you relaxed back into your seat. Looking over at the girl you smiled, even though she couldn't see it, you hoped she was able to read the emotion from your eyes. You think she could, by the way she smiled real big back at you. 

She stuck her hand out and said, “My name is Rey. The guy downstairs said he’s Finn and he’s with the Resistance too.” 

-----

a/n - im having so much fun with this yall dont even know. likes/replies/reblogs always appreciated and if youd like to be tagged just ask! 

taglist: @egguuuu​ @sunflowersandotherthings​ @clarizuliani10​ @kylorendrip​

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own star wars or any of the character involved in it. 

[defenderrosetyler]

Chapter One

A/N: No real triggers this time!!  WC: 1.9k Chapter 1:

“So every person in this book is a fairy tale character?” Emma Swan says to her ten-year-old son. 

The boy had introduced himself as Henry, had brought his mother to Storybrooke. Of course, Emma had given Henry up for adoption when she gave birth to him.  But to have her son seek her out made Emma uncomfortable. He had come to her claiming to be the savior of the storybook world. Henry spun a tale about a curse and how all of the characters of the Enchanted Forest were stuck in a town called Storybrooke, Maine.

Henry had with him a brown leather storybook that was thick but didn’t appear to be heavy. Henry seemed to carry around with no problem. One thing Emma found off when they arrived into town was the clock tower. As she observed it, she couldn’t help take note of how it never seemed to move. She led Henry back to his mother’s house. Henry’s adoptive mother, Regina Mills, was the mayor of the town. Henry claimed she was the Evil Queen from the story Snow White. Emma found this silly. Then again, Emma wasn’t one for fairytales anyway. Fairytales are for kids. 

Inside Granny’s Diner, Sam Winchester sat inside waiting for his brother Dean. Granny’s was usually closed at night since Granny went to work at her bed and breakfast in the mornings, but Ruby was always there at night to serve the night owls who couldn’t sleep. 

Ruby wasn’t the only one working the night shift. She worked with Y/N Y/L/N. Hardly anyone saw  Y/N working in the morning. This usually led to rumors that Y/N was hiding something.  The story was Y/N stayed locked in Rowena’s shop.

Rowena MacLeod was a private woman. However, she was a businesswoman, a loan shark, if you will. Rowena was very good at getting what she wanted through these tactics. She would let her client borrow money with the promise of paying it back fairly and on time. However, many clients don’t read the fine print in her contract.  Resulting in them having to pay double or triple what they borrowed. Rowena had helped Sam and Dean’s parents with a large sum of money to keep their business, Winchester Mechanics, afloat. Leaving their two sons, Sam and Dean, to foot the bill. Dean paid her as much as he could, but with not many people coming or going from Storybrooke, business was slow. 

This left Sam to find a way to help Dean find a way to help pay Rowena back too. But he wasn’t having great success either. Sam had started working in Mr. Gold’s Pawn shop until he found himself interested in Law. Under Mr. Gold’s tutelage, Sam had become well versed in the laws created by the town council. This led him to also find work in the Sheriff's office as a prosecutor. Often being a rival for his own boss at the Pawn Shop. It only made Mr. Gold admire Sam more.  

“Ruby, can you please help them?” Y/N begged, trying to hold back an eye-roll at the two men that walked in together, sitting across from one another. Having a conversation amongst themselves and trying to not get in an argument, again, over the amount of money they owed to Rowena. Their next payment was due within the week, and they didn’t have the funds. 

“Sorry, Duckling, it's your turn. I helped them the other day.” She says, giving her a sentimental look. 

Ruby had been watching Y/N and Sam’s exchanges cringing internally whenever they walked in the door, knowing Y/N would try and pass her along to either herself or Granny. Ruby heard rumors about why Y/N and Sam had disagreements, but their arguments were getting harsher with each passing day.

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes, grabbing her order pad, heading over to greet Sam and Dean. 

“Evening, Y/N,” Dean says pleasantly. 

Sam muttered under his breath a greeting, and it sounded like he muttered a nickname only her friends gave her, earning a glare from Y/N in Sam’s direction. 

“What is it now, brains?” Y/N says. “Too buried in your debt to Rowena to speak louder and call me a name in front of my face?”

Dean sighed. Here they go again. “Just our usual if you would please,” he says, trying to cut the tension between the two. 

Y/N nods glaring at Sam before she heads back to the kitchen. 

“You didn’t need to butt in like that,” Sam scoffed. “I had it completely under control.”

“Oh sure, that’s why you and Y/N seem to fight or have some sort of disagreement every time we come in here?” Dean huffed,  “Who knows whatever the hell happens when you bump into her while she’s alone at Rowena’s,” Dean sassed,  “Oh wait, you’re too busy working at Gold’s shop, fighting for a chance to work a case in his place, or at the jail with Graham,” the elder brother snapped calmly. 

“Says the man who works in a shop with no cars to work on,” Sam snapped back, “How’s Amaya? Did you ever fulfill your promise to help her out?

“You keep that bitch out of this,” Dean growled. “I’ll figure something out. For now, I’m gonna see if I can get a second job somewhere.” 

“What do you mean? What other job could you get here? Think Granny can hire you as a short-order cook? At least she gets business!”  

“It’s something to get the debt paid back to Rowena, Sam,” Dean muttered as Y/N brought out their meals. Both were polite, and their bickering died down, and they went back to talking about their days. As uneventful as they were, they had a lot to talk about. 

Y/N sighed as she went back behind the counter, “Ruby, I’m gonna head to bed. Dawn wake-up call comes early.” She says with an eye roll. 

“Goodnight, Duckling,” Ruby says, smiling kindly to her, “I’ll clean up.”

===========

Enchanted Forest

“Dean, is target practice really necessary?” Sam says, looking at him. “I need to be looking for Odette, not shooting powdered arrows over at the servants’ asses.” 

“And what are you gonna do when you can’t hit your mark?” Dean questioned, “What of Odette needs saving from some Ogres, and you miss?” 

“Is that before or after the fact that you're catching fireflies at all hours of the night?” Sam asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Are they for you or to feed the frog that follows you around and hides on your dresser?”  he snaps, glaring at the older brother.

“I do not go out at night to catch fireflies for Amaya,” Dean scoffs, “besides, she goes out and catches her own meals.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam grabbed his red powdered covered arrows, game face on. Assuming the probability that Dean would let him win, again. Sam took an arrow from his quiver, sliding it into place. Pulling back the string once he nocked it, aiming it at his first mark, the butler, Crowley. Whom the brothers affectionately dressed up as a brown moose. The arrow left the nocking point, hitting its destined target in the center of his rounded ass. 

“Hey!” Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. He brushed off the powder as he glared at both of the brothers. 

Dean was finding this amusing. The exercise was primarily for Sam. Why couldn’t he have fun too?

Just as Dean was about to take his shot, Castiel, the head advisor to his father, walked out onto the grounds. He intended to stop the game before it fully began. “Your Highness?”

Startled by the sudden interruption, Dean whipped around,  the arrow released from where it was nocked, hitting Castiel square into his chest. Before he could even react, a second followed by a third engulfed Cas in a powder of blue.

“If you children are quite finished,” he huffed, dusting the powder off himself, “my liege, you have a visitor. Something about a poisonous toad needing collecting?”

Dean fired one more arrow before stalking towards Castiel, “it better not be a waste of my time. My brother and I are training.” 

“Training for a lost cause if you ask me, Sir,” Crowley says, observing the body language of his employer. “For all, we know the Princess is dead as well, just like her father. God rest his soul.” He adds, making the sign of the cross. 

Sam’s head turned quickly at the Butler’s words echoed in his ear. Eyes flashed in anger, rushing over towards the pair. “Take it back! You don’t get to talk about Odette like that!”

“Forgive me, Samuel. However, I truly believe this to be a fool's errand,” Crowley says, standing closer to the trio gathered in the middle of the courtyard.

“I will find her, Crowley,” the younger prince declared, “I have to find her.”

Shaking his head, Dean followed Castiel inside to handle the visitor.

Needing an actual outlet for his anger, Sam walked with a fast pace over to the stables. The staff tended to the horses, but Sam usually liked taking care of his mare. It gave him a sense of responsibility. 

Sam’s mare, Onyx, was a beautiful black Friesian. Her height was just above 18 hands, given his six foot four stature, she was just as tall as he was. Sam was okay with that though. Grabbing a body brush, Sam slowly brushed out her black coat. It had become dirty from the loose dirt flying around.

Meanwhile, as the sun set on the edge of the trees in the forest, a beautiful white swan flew across the canopy. Odette had grown accustomed to the dawn and the dusk. Knowing she had to be on the lake’s surface as the moon touched it before she would become a woman again. 

As per her usual routine, Odette flew over Winchester Castle. Wondering if Sam would be looking for her. Who was she kidding? Sam only wanted to marry her for her beauty. Prince Samuel Winchester didn’t care about her.

Dusk approached, the swan moving to make her graceful descent down into the crystal colored water. “Was wondering if you were gonna be on time tonight dearie.” Rowena says, hands placed on her hips. Odette gave Rowena as much of a glare as a swan possibly could. The princess was always on time and never late. The other party that was never late was Rowena’s incompetant son Crowley. 

“Evening Mother, Odette,” he greets, giving his mother a nod of acknowledgement. Crowley’s appearances had begun to be a routine over the past week. Rowena’s son came every evening, giving Rowena the opportunity to ask her the same proposition in order to remove the curse. Marrying her son. 

Much to the annoyance of Rowena, Odette answered her the same as she had every single time she’d asked. One single word was her reply, but not the one the sorceress was looking for. 

“No.”

“Oh for the love of Dagda” She scoffed, rolling her eyes skyward. Eyes focused back on the maiden that stood before her. Hair glowing in the shimmering moonlight. “Need I remind you, I placed this curse on you, and I can just as easily reverse it. All you need to do, is agree to marry my dear Fergus. Once you're wed, I can give you all the riches a Princess could ask for.” 

“Far better than the Winchester’s that's for sure.” Crowley adds as a comment. 

“I’d rather be a swan over marrying your childish, pathetic son.” Odette snapped. 

“That can be arranged.” Rowena snapped, allowing the princess to mull over her choices.

[june2734]

The Short Lived Golden Age of Nerdy Web Shows

There was a time between the years of, let's say, 2007 to 2015 that I like to call the golden age of nerdy web shows. It consisted of a lot of small low to no budget productions that had a lot of heart, the kind you just don't see very often anymore for some reason. Many of these show have found a dedicated home on streaming services like The Fantasy Network, some have even gained enough steam to be featured on big name services like Netflix and Amazon like The Guild and LARPs The series respectively. I'm not exactly sure why the web show trend died out so hard, maybe the crowds just aren't there for them anymore like they use to be with some many pieces of high budget productions on streaming services vying for their attention. Every once and a while I'll jump onto Google to try and find new web shows that have that same heart and feel but rarely if ever do I come up with anything. As far as I can tell the only place new nerdy low to mid budget web shows or films gets any attention is at GenCon or small streaming services like The Fantasy Network. Who knows if there will ever be another nerdy heartfelt web show created that captures the spirit of those old series I hold so dear to my heart, but regardless if it happens or not I'd like to bring some attention to a few of my favorites. They may be old by the standards of the internet and maybe even cheesy by today's standards, but I really think they were something special and if you give them a shot maybe you'll think so too. If you have any others that you think would fit in with shows like this feel free to let me know.

The Gamers: Hands Of Fate

Zombie Orpheus Entertainment use to be one of my favorite channels for nerdy fantasy related content back in the day. You could always see the quality and passion that they put into every piece of content they out out on their channel. They're still around today but they've shifted their focus to other ventures such as the ever popular trend of live streaming table top games rather then making scripted content. That being said their old stuff is still well worth a watch and The Gamers series, particularly The Gamers: Hands of Fate, is some of their best work they’ve ever put out. The series centers around a group of table top gamers(the same that can be found in most of the other The Gamers creations by ZOE), particularly the character by the name of Cass, as he steps into the world of one extremely popular card game hopes of impressing a woman who's a huge fan of it. But this is seemingly simple premise is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to this series. The show also features a secondary narrative that involves the characters that actually exist in the card game as as the players decisions in the real world effect their lives and leads one character, Buckstahue(not sure if I’m spelling that right), in particular to start questioning what mysterious forces are controlling their lives. The show is a real treat filled with twists and turns I never saw coming, it's fascinating seeing how the real world actions of this card game effects the card characters lives as well as question if and when Buckstahue will figure out what strings control her actions. The stories surrounding the other characters in the party might not be as engaging but they are by no means a weak point of the series either, many of their subplots are engaging in their own rights and pay off certain character moments established in proper The Gamers creations. If this peaks your interest then the series can still be found on Zombie Orpheus's Youtube channel or as a movie on The Fantasy Network. ZOE had pivoted more towards live streaming as opposed to the scripted content of their past but I'd love to see more content from The Gamers one day. Source

LARPs The Series

LARPs The Series first premiered at GenCon 2014 and took home the award for Best Independent Series. The year after it was picked up by Geek and Sundry as a part of a push for more scripted content on the channel which was where I and many others first got a chance to watch it. When the short trailer for popped up on the G&S channel everything about it screamed that I was absolutely going to love it, and I wasn’t wrong. The series centers around a 4 man party of larpers (AKA Live Action Role Players) by the names of Will, Brittany, Arthur and Sam and their DM (Dungeon Master) Evan as we follow their lives in and out of the game. The show is surprisingly heartfelt and sympathetic towards the characters involved in this often misunderstood and mocked hobby as it shows how larping enriches their often turbulent lives and connects them all as friends on a deep and meaningful level. These characters felt real and you really rooted for them as they deal with, work, relationships and the many other hurtles of adult life as they wait eagerly to gear up for whatever peril might befall them in their next campaign session. The show was also pretty hilarious, seeing them play out classic predicaments that any party, whether they be larpers or table top roleplayers, have experienced such as one player trying to roll to kill a tavern owner or romances between PCs were always a joy to watch unfold.  Another thing that most will notice right away is how the production value and direction are surprisingly astounding as well, especially in season 2. I was shocked by just how much quality was put into the show from the costumes and sets as well as from a writing standpoint. If you're interested in checking out the show then it can be found on Amazon Prime but they can also still be viewed for free on YouTube or in The Fantasy Network. Beanduck, the production company behind LARPs The series, is working towards a funding campaign in hopes of earning enough to produce a third season so if you have any spare change you might want to toss it their way in support. Regardless if you decide to help or not, LARPs The Series is a show that I think any nerdy individual will enjoy. Source

Glitch

Glitch was another show produced by the team over at Zombie Orpheus Entertainment, but it never seemed to get the same kind of love as many of their other productions. The concept was brilliant: What if one day you woke up and found out your life operated on the logic of video games? Well this is the predicament that a programing temp nicknamed Glitch finds himself in. Most episodes of the show centered around particular game mechanics causing problems in his and his friends lives and how he tries to figure out ways to work around or fix problems they've created. Glitch, Wyatt and Samus were all fantastic characters and it was always fun seeing Glitch trying to work through some real world problem with game logic like trying to flirt with a woman he likes using a conversation wheel like in Mass Effect or figuring out how to "defeat" his boss at work who he see's as an actual game boss. Another thing I liked about the show was how the characters really felt like real people I knew, they played games on the couch, debated about which Sci-Fi starship captains were the best, and they grilled each other in nerdy ways while working in slang from their favorite bits of nerd culture into their daily vocabulary. I always hoped that ZOE would eventually put out a second season but unfortunately for whatever reason that never became a reality. Now days the channel that originally hosted Glitch has changed their name to Burger Orchard and rarely if ever uploads anything, but luckily those original episodes of Glitch can still be found on their. Give it a watch, it's short but sweet and if you really enjoyed the show a lot there are little companion shorts that can also be found on the channel. Source

The Street Fighter

The Game Station was an early find for me back in my early college days, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I shaved away many hours watching all kinds of gaming related content on that channel instead of studying for exams. One production, created by one of the channels founders Layne Pavoggi, which came out in late 2011 and was a cut above much their already fantastic content was a short lived series was called The Street Fighter. The series centered around a single dad by the name of Phil who has just lost his job and decides to take up a short career as a professional Street Fighter player to provide for his son as well as keep his mind off of the stressful and highly competitive job market. This a real underdog story that’s extremely reminiscent of old sports 80s films where the protagonist has everything working against them, with that being said you might think that such a trope filled narrative would make things a little predictable and you wouldn’t be wrong but there’s still plenty to love since this concept has really never been explored with videogame to my knowledge. Phil is a guy you’d be hard pressed not to warm up to, especially when you see him interacting with his preteen son Ryan or his best friend/semi love interest Camile (played by former All That star and all around spectacular person Lisa Foiles). Seeing him trying to make his way into the job market, taking odd jobs here and there just to try and get by while also playing Street Fighter to destress and become better for the sake of winning a competition for money to support his son really makes to root for him through all of it. One aspect of the show that I really this is fantastic is how it feels truly authentic to the FGC (Fighting Game Community) when it comes to talking about all of the technical aspects of play Street Fighter on a competitive level. There are moments when Phil goes into detail about his “bread and butter” combos or talks about different strategies when it comes to taking on different characters compared to his main. The show was short lived but it can still be found on The Game Stations channel, if you’re looking for a heartfelt underdog story then I highly recommend giving The Street Fighter a shot. Source

Versus Valerie

Versus Valerie is a bit of series finale for a fictional character created by Hannah Spear for the character more commonly known as the Sexy Nerd Girl on her YouTube channel. Even if you didn't watch the characters vlogs over the years leading up to the web series I still think you'll find something to enjoy in this extremely charming show. It centers around Valerie Lapomme, the titular Sexy Nerd Girl, as she lives life hanging out with with her best friend Guy, shopping for comic books, going on dates, vlogging, and trying to make something of herself as a mid 20 something living in Toronto. The brilliant thing about this series is how each episode is structured like or makes homage to popular shows, films and games such as Star Wars, Doctor Who, Memento, and The Matrix just to name a few. On top of that the show is surprisingly well produced and written for something that spawned from a fictional vlog series, Valarie and Guy are much more fleshed out and all the characters including them have some really fantastic character arcs and moments in the show. Valerie’s awkwardness and extremely nerdy imagination felt embracingly relatable to me personally since I often imagine different situations in my life in relation to my own nerdy fandoms. What I was often taken aback by when I first watched the show years ago was just how enjoyable all of the episodes were in their own special way, and the pay off of it all really feels like a proper satisfying ending to the strange and imaginative journey we’ve been on with Valerie. If it peaks your interest at all then you can still find the full series on the Veruse Valerie YouTube channel as well as some of the vlogs prior to the series on the Sexy Nerd Girl channel as well. It’s well worth a viewing and aside from the fantastic lead characters of Guy and Valerie the show also managed to grab Mark Meer as a supporting character, aka the voice of COMMANDER MOTHER F^*$(^% SHEPARD BABY!!!  Source

[andaxay]

Preservation of Self

My entry for February’s @telltalemonthlychallenge. February’s theme: Black History Month.

Hyperion has been cutthroat since the day she accepted the offer of employment. Yvette does what she thinks she needs to. To thrive. To survive.

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

One last coffee before they left.

Secreted away in a quiet room, away from prying eyes that would question why Vaughn the mild-mannered accountant had an important looking Hyperion briefcase chained to his arm. Best to avoid such questions.

"You're really doing this?" Yvette wrapped one slender leg around the other as she sat, sipping a latte, looking from one best friend to another with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

"Oh, we are doing this," Rhys leaned forward with a smug smile and raised eyebrow. Vaughn rubbed the back of his neck as he stared, wide-eyed, at the table in front of them, perhaps questioning every life decision he'd ever made that had led him to this point. "We are doing this so much. Who else is going to screw over Vasquez?"

"Vasquez is more than capable of screwing himself over, given enough time," Yvette said dryly, folding her arms.

"And how long will that take? Are you willing to wait for years for that to happen?"

"He might get eaten by a skag the second he sets foot on Pandora," Vaughn chimed in, wearing an expression that said 'and the same could happen to us'.

"And he might not," Rhys countered, "in which case, enjoy being middle management saps for the next ten to fifteen years. I, however, am not willing to clean up Vasquez's damn trash three times a day, just so he can drink in how much power he has."

"Fair point," Vaughn conceded and Yvette nodded solemnly.

"Well, then," she said after taking the last sip of her latte, "you have everything you need." She paused, looking at both of them. A twist in her gut. "Good luck. Try not to die - there's an awful lot of paperwork to fill out if you do."

"We'll miss you, too."

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

Vasquez's furious shouting reached Yvette's ears before the man himself stormed into her office. She steeled herself, remaining cool and calm, tapping away at her keyboard as he stalked up to her desk.

"Mr. Vasquez?" Polite, despite her gut curling at the sight of him. Slimeball.

"Yvette!" Vasquez glared down at her, breathing heavily, before he appeared to relax slightly, stepping into the persona he often reserved for buttering up management. "Yvette. Just the lady I was looking for." He stepped around her desk and sat on the edge of it, looming over her. "Urgent business. Confidential, of course. Management... I, need to meet with Rhys. Only he, ah, seems to be difficult to pin down." Vasquez stared down at her, his eyes burning. She stared right back, innocently, collected. "You had lunch together, shared plans for the afternoon..."

"As far as I'm aware, he's working," Yvette offered coolly. "I haven't seen him, or spoken to him, since lunch."

"Oh? Working on his next eridium mining contract? Or, maybe, stealing ten million dollars of Hyperion's money and taking it to a Pandoran named August to buy a Vault Key?" Vasquez folded his arms as he leaned in slightly. Trying to intimidate her. Yvette had dealt with much worse in her time at Hyperion.

"I have never heard of August and, like I said, I assumed Rhys had gone back to work after lunch," Yvette said firmly, "so, I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Trying to cover for him? Or, have you washed your hands of him already?" Vasquez leered down at her. "He'll be so happy to hear it when we pick him up and drag his soon-to-be-dead ass into a cell for stealing Hyperion property." He smiled, an ugly, sinister curve of a thing that didn't reach his eyes. "Speaking of which, exactly how did he get hold of the money? He isn't an accountant, doesn't have access to funds. Unless... he had help. If I recall, you're both good friends with the man who just happens to manage valuable Hyperion funds and assets. What was his name again? Vinny? Vance?"

Yvette remained poker-faced, raising her eyebrows slightly, questioningly. A vein in Vasquez's temple was twitching.

"I won't deny that I'm friends with them," she said calmly, sitting back into her chair and folding her arms, "but that's all I can tell you. Whatever this is? You're asking the wrong person."

"Mmm-hmm," Vasquez fixed her with a firm glare. "So, that's how it's going to be. Alright, then." He stood and turned to leave, but paused. "I would think about where your loyalties lie, Yvette. Hyperion can set you up for life." He turned again to face her. She remained impassive. "And it can also end it. We can trace everything. Think about that, while you decide your future."

She only allowed herself to exhale once the heavy blast doors closed behind him. Some chewing of her thumbnail, the only show of anxiety she would allow herself.

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

Rhys and Vaughn had lost the money. They were as good as dead.

Hyperion didn't yet know. It didn't matter. They would.

Rhys and Vaughn would either die on Pandora, or die the minute they stepped foot on Helios.

Climbing the ranks of Hyperion was a colossal challenge that very, very few could ever hope to rise to. The toxic culture, knives in so many backs - sometimes literally. Yvette had dared to hope, when she and Rhys and Vaughn had become friends. One person alone couldn't even begin to chip away at the Hyperion machine, but the three of them, working together?

It was over. It had been silly to think it could have happened in the first place.

Her office phone rang. The caller ID read 'Hugo Vasquez'.

She sighed heavily, then answered it.

"The situation has changed. Meet me in my office. Ten minutes." He hung up before she'd even said a word.

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

"Your involvement in the stealing of ten million dollars can be... erased, Yvette. Nobody higher up needs to know. ID logs can be manipulated. Traces erased."

She folded her arms. "... If?"

Vasquez was the most serious-looking she'd ever seen him.

"I'll be honest. We need the data in Rhys's systems far more than ten million dollars."

Systems. Like Rhys wasn't a walking, living human being.

"Let's just say that Hyperion is willing to pay a lot to recover this data. To the person, or people, responsible for recovering it" Vasquez folded his arms as he leaned against his desk. Behind him, Pandora was framed nicely within the window of his office. What had once been Henderson's office, before he'd been... terminated.

Henderson had been a racist prick, she didn't miss him, mourn him or even feel sorry for him, but it was a nice reminder about what Vasquez was capable of.

"So," Vasquez continued, "you help me, I help you. You track Rhys, keep tabs on his location and give me all of the information you know. And I'll make sure you're not implicated in anything... unsavoury. And, give you a cut of the reward."

Yvette stood, calm on the outside and reeling on the inside.

Her best friends.

Her best friends who were likely dead regardless.

Likely. Ha. They were toast.

Could she live with being an active part in their demise, though?

Vasquez glared, impatient.

"You make a very compelling argument, Vasquez," Yvette plastered a snakelike smile on her face and part of her died within. "You have a deal."

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

She gasped as the cold water she'd scooped and thrown into her face hit her skin. The swanky bathroom of her cushy Helios apartment was dimly lit, but she could still see every feature of her face in the mirror. Every line of the troubled expression marring her features.

Vasquez had gone down to Pandora to find Rhys and Vaughn. On the back of information that she had given to him.

Rhys and Vaughn were going to die anyway.

Assuming Vasquez was successful and brought Rhys, or whatever remained of him, back to Helios. The next steps were glaringly obvious. Vasquez would claim all of the reward for himself. Yvette would be exposed, her role in the disappearance of ten million dollars and two intrepid, naïve Hyperion employees with it, one of whom was hiding some incredibly important program in his head, apparently.

She'd be thrown out of an airlock the second Vasquez stepped back onto Helios.

This was about survival, now.

Yvette had quietly been gathering evidence on Vasquez's involvement in this mess. Bribery, incompetence. She was ready to strike. Ready to claim the reward for herself, to survive something else that Hyperion had to throw at her.

But she had to play along, for now.

Which meant leading Vasquez right to Rhys and Vaughn.

Maybe Vasquez would lose. Maybe her best friends would outsmart him, work their way out and escape into the sunset. Yvette couldn't see it happening. Much as she loved them, they'd be hopeless in any kind of fight-or-flight response.

As much as she had loved them.

Because now she'd struck a deal with the devil and anyone who truly cared for their friends wouldn't serve them to their deaths on a silver platter.

It was them, or her.

Welcome to Hyperion.

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

Vasquez had rolled up in some old, hulking build-it-yourself spaceship that would have looked more at home in a scrapyard and, what was more, had failed to bring Rhys, or any part of him, back with him.

To say Yvette was furious would be an understatement.

She'd stormed into his office, her office, ready to blast him to hell for failing to uphold his part of the deal. Shafting them both, not that she cared about what would happen to him, following his unauthorised trip to Pandora. Without the data in Rhys' system, he was as good as dead anyway.

Something was missing. Vasquez had been unreachable for weeks after landing on Pandora, which had driven her mad. She'd been feeding him information in all that time and he couldn't even be bothered to send her a 'thank you'. But now he was back, something was... off.

Not... not in a bad way, honestly. The malice she normally associated with him was lacking. It was disarming, but Yvette didn't have time or resources to worry about such a thing. What did it matter, in the grand scheme of things?

"You had one job," she spat out, glaring daggers at him. He was... strangely vulnerable?

"I'm on it," he said quietly. "I just need more time."

"Time's up, Vasquez. It's over. I'm calling management."

"Don't," he said, desperate yet calm, collected. "It will only end badly, and not just for me. You think I don't have evidence to back myself up? And so, so much of it points to you, Yvette." Hurt. What a strange thing to witness in his expression.

"Then I guess we're at an impasse." She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I can fix this. I know what to do. To save both our asses."

Yvette remained silent. Like Vasquez cared about what happened to her.

Still, they were stuck. Play along for now, then shaft him later, once she knew what this plan of his was.

"You have the rest of the working day to fix this," Yvette snapped, "and then I'm handing you in. Consequences be damned."

"I don't think you mean that," he said, voice low, almost deadly.

"You don't know anything about me," she countered, equally as deadly. "Get out of my office."

To her enormous surprise, he left.

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

The escape pod rattled unsettlingly as it plummeted to Pandora. Yvette stared, dully, out at the rapidly approaching planet.

She should be dead. Maybe that would have been the better alternative.

Rhys' face as she'd gone for the escape pod... As he'd told her to go to the escape pod.

She'd sold him out and he'd repaid her by saving her life. Essentially sealing his own death warrant as he'd done so. Even after her pathetic attempts at an explanation and apology while she'd been locked in the cell.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists until the nails drew blood. Helios was breaking apart behind her. There was no way he'd survive.

Ha. Hadn't she written him off, anyway?

She didn't deserve a friend like him. She didn't deserve friends at all. Because, as it had become blindly obvious throughout the last few weeks, she was more than willing to sell them out to save her own skin.

Maybe the pod would crash with such a force that she'd be torn apart upon impact.

At least it would put an end to the burning, lead guilt that weighed down every cell in her body.

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

"Thanks, Vaughn."

"Don't mention it."

The emergency blanket felt scratchy against her skin. The soup in the bowl in her lap could barely qualify as 'warm'. It was more than she deserved.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

Vaughn stopped in his tracks, turned to face her. Exhausted. Dark circles underlined his eyes and aged him well beyond his twenty-seven years.

"You went through hell, too. I just... want to help."

She didn't know what she could say. Apologies were worthless.

"Eat the soup, Yvette, it will help."

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

"To... surviving."

"I'll drink to that."

"Mmm-hmm."

Three glasses clinked together in the candlelit room, one of the more... intact ones that had mostly survived the fall from orbit.

"I'm so glad you're both ok," Rhys said quietly, staring into his chipped glass filled with an unspecified alcohol.

Yvette stared into her own glass. Both. Even after everything.

"Rhys-"

His head snapped up and mismatched eyes met her own. Alarmed, almost. He knew what was coming.

"Yvette, you don't have to-"

"I do," she said firmly. Vaughn glanced between the two of them. "I'm sorry. I really am." She sighed heavily. "I guess... I was just trying to survive. I was scared." She scratched at the side of her head. A small scar had formed there, a remnant of her crash-landing into Pandora. She felt the smooth texture underneath her finger. "It was a shitty way of doing it. You guys were - are - the best friends I've ever had. I should have done better."

They were both silent for a moment, exchanging glances.

"We've all experienced Hyperion," Vaughn finally chimed in solemnly. "'Surviving' was about all we could do."

Rhys made a noise of agreement. "You think we didn't do terrible things, too?"

"Still..."

"Yvette, it's ok," Rhys smiled at her. "It hurt, at the time. I won't lie. But I also know what it's like to be in fear for your life."

"Yeah. Who at Hyperion didn't do something shitty at some point? It was practically in the job description." Vaughn also smiled.

"I guess we all learned something," Rhys continued quietly and Vaughn nodded in agreement. "But, that's what it's all about, I guess. I think as long as we acknowledge where we go wrong, and do something to be better... No reason we can't be ok, right?"

A weight, a terrible, oppressive weight that she'd carried for so long, now. Some of it eased.

"I'll drink to that," she offered, smiling, and the three clinked their glasses together again.

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome

Somebody probably should have warned Howard.

-

Peggy felt a need to wash her face again before she went back to the infirmary to see how Steve was getting along.  She didn’t doubt he’d be just fine, as he always was, but there was a part of her that really needed to see for herself.  Like Howard wanting to stay at the crash site, it would be a while before she felt sure he wouldn’t simply vanish if she turned her back.

She stood in front of the mirror and tried to fix her hair a little, but in the end decided that was a lost cause.  It had been days since she’d been able to wash up properly, and while the redness and swelling from Kay’s chemical spray had gone down, the windburn of the long, cold helicopter flight was still very visible, as were the effects of her recent bout of tears.  She had no fresh clothes to put on, and no makeup to cover anything. She looked grotesque.

So of course when she sat down by Steve’s bedside, he smiled at her and said, “you look beautiful.”

“I do not!” she snorted, “and I ought to thump you one for such a lie!”

“You can’t thump me, I’m a sick man!” Steve protested, and wiggled down under the covers trying to look pathetic.  It failed, of course.  He’d been sitting up and eating when Peggy entered the room.

“You’re as well as you’ve ever been in your life, Steve Rogers,” said Peggy, “and I believe the doctors will take my side on that!”

One of said doctors – sporting a picturesque black eye from the earlier fight – looked up from a clipboard.  “I wouldn’t say that,” he said, “but he’s well on his way to recovery. Amazing.”  He shook his head.  “Never seen anything like it.”

“I hear that a lot,” said Steve, but his smile was gone now. “It’s really been three years?” he asked Peggy.

She nodded.  “Yes, darling.  We didn’t realize you’d gone so far north.”

“Huh.”  He looked away.  “I can’t believe you kept looking for me that long.”

Peggy’s insides twisted.  “Well… we didn’t, honestly.  Schmidt was dead and Hitler shot himself just a few days later, but there was still the Pacific theatre, and…”  She swallowed.  “Howard found the cube and we locked that away, but after that the army wouldn’t fund the search anymore.”

“Oh,” said Steve.

She grabbed his hand.  “If we’d known you were alive, we would never have let it go that long,” she promised… though that probably didn’t reassure him.  He must be thinking what she had, wondering if he might have had to wait centuries or millennia.  At least he hadn’t heard Kay tell Peggy that seventy years would have been more than long enough.  “I’m so sorry, Steve, but… well, we thought you were dead.  After a few weeks in the arctic…”  They’d been certain that even Steve must have perished, if he hadn’t been killed instantly in the crash.

“Right, right.”  He nodded, and brought a hand up to her cheek.  “Don’t apologize, Peggy, it’s… you were right, I should have given you my position.  I saw the ground coming and I… at the last minute there…”  He swallowed hard.

Peggy shut her eyes as tears threatened to overflow again, and wrapped both her hands around his to squeeze it tight.  Nobody could have foreseen this.  Nobody but a woman to whom it was already the long-ago past.

“Did you ever find him?” Steve asked.  “I mean… Bucky?  Or…”

She knew if she opened her eyes she’d find him looking right into them… and she also knew they’d be full of desperate hope even as he already knew what the answer would be.  “I’m afraid not.  The valleys there are impassable most of the year…”

“The Russians found him,” said Kay.

Peggy hadn’t even realized she’d entered the room, but when she looked up, she found Kay standing at the end of Steve’s bed.  Her blonde hair was askew and flattened by her hat, and her face, too, was pink and puffy from crying, but she still looked better than Peggy did.

“They were in the area at the time,” she added. “They knew HYDRA had a route through there and they were looking for anything that might have fallen from the trains.  They didn’t know who he was, but they found him and took him back with them.  The dead HYDRA men, too.”

Steve nodded.  “That’s good… I’m glad somebody took care of him.”

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” said Kay, “but I’ll tell you more when you’re feeling better.”  She turned around, and walked out of the room.

Steve sat up a little, as if he planned to get up and follow her, but Peggy and the doctor both took hold of him and gently pushed him back down onto the bed.

“Steve, don’t, she won’t tell you anything until she’s ready,” Peggy said.

“Captain Rogers,” the doctor said at the same time, “you need to recover your strength.”

“I feel fine!” Steve protested, but he must have been tired, because he lay back down and rested his head on the pillow.  “Who is she?” he asked Peggy.

“I… I’m not entirely sure,” Peggy replied.  “I know she’s Russian.  She’s told me a story about her past but I don’t know whether to believe it.  She did know where to find you, though.”  Kay didn’t seem to be an enemy, but Peggy still wasn’t sure she really counted as an ally, either.  She definitely wasn’t a friend, though, there was no question about that.

Steve nodded.  “If she can tell us where his grave is…”

“I don’t know if that will be possible,” Peggy warned. “The relationship between the US and the USSR has deteriorated a bit.”

She wondered if she should have phrased it that way. Would Steve wonder if other relationships might have deteriorated?  He now knew how long he’d been gone…

His thoughts must have been tending in that general direction, because the next thing he said was, “I know I’m late… but is there any chance we could still make that dance?”

Peggy ducked her head as if to hide a blush – but really to hide the tears that were welling up again.  “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised.  But even that was a lie, wasn’t it?  How could she have that long-delayed dance with Steve when she’d found somebody else?  Daniel wouldn’t begrudge her one dance, but would he believe her if she promised it would only be one dance?

She couldn’t tell Steve about Daniel yet.  Not when he’d only just awakened and had so many other things to catch up on, but the longer she waited the harder it would be.

- 

The Valiant had to return to its normal route patrolling the arctic ocean, so a couple of days later, when the doctors were satisfied that Steve wasn’t about to suddenly collapse, he, Masters, Peggy, and Kay were loaded into a small plane to take them to Nome, Alaska.  The crew of the carrier turned out in their dress uniforms with a band playing to send them off, and somebody had made a Welcome Back Captain America banner to hang from the ship’s superstructure.  Steve smiled awkwardly and waved to them as he climbed into the plane.

“Get used to it,” Peggy murmured to him.  “I imagine there’ll be a very similar reception waiting for you when we reach the mainland.”

“Oh, several of them,” Kay agreed.  “You’re going to have to make a cross-country tour.”

“Great, something to look forward to,” said Steve sarcastically.

“You’ve never liked being fussed over,” she observed.

“When I was little it usually meant they thought I was going to die,” Steve told her.

The plane took off into a clear blue arctic sky, heading southwest over Alaska to get to the town of Nome.  Steve sat looking out the window, but he kept his hand in hers, and she couldn’t help looking at him.  The cuts and bruises she’d helped him with after the train were healing quickly, as they always did.  In a couple more days they’d be gone.  There was already no trace to show he’d spent three years frozen in the sea ice. Physically as well as mentally, he hadn’t aged a day.

Peggy had been a year younger than him when he’d left. She wondered if she would now be considered two years older.

He glanced back and noticed her staring, and she quickly turned her head.  “Sorry,” Peggy said.  “I just… can’t quite believe you’re real.”

One of the things they hadn’t been sure of, one of the things Erskine had never been able to test, was the question of whether somebody who’d had the serum would age normally.  Not enough time had passed to see whether Steve was getting older, but the fact that he’d survived this latest ordeal made it seem unlikely that time could touch him.  What would happen if in twenty years, Peggy had gotten older and Steve had not?

During the war they’d both been ready to deal with that as it came.  Steve probably still was.  Peggy wasn’t so sure.

“What about you?” she asked, trying to distract herself from that uncomfortable thought and the problems surrounding it.  “What are you looking at out there?”

“Nothing, exactly,” he said.  “I’m just… thinking.”

“About what?” Peggy asked.

“About what Buck would have said if he were here. He, uh… he would have told me I’m an idiot,” Steve said with an embarrassed smile.  “He would have told me that if I’d given it a few more days I would have realized I didn’t want to die, and he’d be right.  In the last few seconds when I knew the water was coming in, I tried to get out.  But I couldn’t.  He wouldn’t have wanted me to die.”

“I could have told you that,” said Peggy.

“I’m surprised you haven’t yet,” said Kay from the seat behind them.

“I was saving it for when the initial joy wore off,” Peggy replied.  “Then I was going to give him a real earful.”

Kay giggled, but Peggy had to suppress a shudder.  His last thought being that he didn’t want to die after all, only for him to wake up and find he was alive but three years had gone by without him… that had to be enough of a shock.  Three years, however, was merely a hiatus – seventy was a lifetime.  She rearranged her fingers, lacing them through his, and wished Kay hadn’t painted quite so vivid a picture of it.

- 

There was no fanfare waiting for them in Nome, to Steve’s obvious relief.  When they landed on the little airstrip, there was nobody there to meet them but a few more military men, and Howard and Jason.  The ramp came down, and Kay was the first off the plane, followed by Peggy and Steve.  Howard was so happy to see any of them that he ran up to give Kay a hug.

“What do they feed you Russian girls to make you indestructible?” he asked.

“Various experimental versions of the super-soldier serum,” Kay replied.

Howard blinked and then held her out at arm’s length again to examine her facial expression.  She remained entirely deadpan, but after a moment he decided she was joking, and laughed awkwardly before turning to hug Peggy.

“I think you’re just too stubborn to die,” he said.

“Damned right,” Peggy agreed.  “I have far too much to do.”

He responded with a more genuine laugh and hugged her again, while Jason happily greeted Kay.  Steve had stood back for this, but then came up to take his turn saying hello to Howard, on the assumption that his friend was expecting him.

Peggy had assumed this as well.  She hadn’t told Jason that Steve was alive, but Captain Lewis must have radioed ahead to have somebody there to meet them, and would have surely told that person.  And since Peggy had told Lewis that Howard and Jason would be there as well, it seemed reasonable to her that one of the military men would have spoken to them.

Evidently this was not true.  Steve stepped forward with a smile on his face, clearly expecting a hug of his own, and said, “Howard!  Good to see you!”  But instead of returning the greeting, Howard stopped cold.  The colour drained from his face, and then his legs simply folded up underneath him.  If Peggy hadn’t caught him, he would have fallen face-first onto the asphalt.

“Is he okay?” one of the soldiers asked.

Peggy lay him down gently and took his pulse. “He’s out cold,” she said.  “I think he’ll be fine.  Does anyone have any smelling salts?”

One of the soldiers went to fetch some from the first aid kit on the airplane, while Steve and Peggy carried Howard’s unconscious body into a car so they could lie him down comfortably.  Once that was done, Steve stepped back and looked at Jason, somewhat worried about what his reaction might be.

“Captain,” said Jason.  “Dr. Jason Wilkes.  I work for Stark Industries.  I saw you once or twice during the war, but we never actually met.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Wilkes,” said Steve.  They shook hands.

The smelling salts brought Howard around, gagging. “What happened?” he groaned. “Peg?  I thought I saw…”

“You did,” Peggy told him.  “Steve’s alive.  He’s here.”

Howard sat up a bit to see Steve looking over Peggy’s shoulder, and after a moment in which he could only sit there with his mouth hanging open, he began to grin.  “Well, son of a gun!”

[birdwonder]

Could I get life with the Bucci gang + Trish headcannons from after they defeated Diavolo? Like what do they do after they have freedom to do whatever they want now? Everyone lives AU of course because I miss my children 😔

|| i am a tumblr n00b who can not find a way to directly link my rules into my bio but i don’t take part 5 requests juuust yet. BUT. i have been wanting to write for part 5 so i’ll probably make an exception for you, lovely anon, and do some headcanons/fics i’m able to do in the future, until i’ve finished Golden wind ~! also - you hit my feels man.

 i made them s/o related bc i’m so used to them that i didn’t realise that the request wasn’t specified for that :,) 

Bucci Gang | Happy Ending Headcanons 

Bruno Bucciarati 

- God, he wants nothing more than to finally have some peace and quiet. Remaining in the mafia isn’t even the least of his concerns, instead he wants to know what you want. Whether you joined him on his journey to take down Diavolo or not didn’t matter as he knew that either way, the stress of him dying and you being tangled up in his mess would have been enough to cause premature grey hairs.

- Even if he does return to the mafia as a Capo, he wants a vacation, just perhaps not somewhere in Italy. With Giorno’s new status, and his own being fairly high ranking, he has the funds to take you somewhere away from any gangs and drama. His first idea would be a holiday island so the two of you can relax on the beach and feel the cool water from the pool washing away all the anxieties you once had; a couple spa day would not be out of the question.

- A change in scenery such as a cold country wouldn’t be too bad either, though he feels like the preparation for that would be a little harder as he doesn’t own many winter clothes.

- During the holiday, the two of you would spend every evening in a 5-star restaurant, dining in front of the sunset with joy in your hearts. On your final night of your stay, Bruno seems to be the happiest he’s ever been the whole trip and you can only assume that the effects of taking a break had finally worked on him. “It’s so nice to see you smiling, amore,” you tell him, resting your hand over his own on the clothed table.

- “It’s all thanks to you, [F/N],” Bruno softly explains, standing up while taking your hand into his own, glancing at the slowly falling sun. “I feel like I’ve been through Hell and back, and yet every moment with you so far has been Heaven.” Your heart melts at his words, eyes softening when he turns to look at you. “I’ve risked everything ever since my father died, and it’s made me realise how short life can truly be…”

- You can only gasp when he lowers himself to a single knee, one hand intertwined with your’s and another holding a small, velvet box with a ring fit for you. “I want to cherish every day, hour and second with you, amore. Will you marry me?”

- Whether you say yes or no, he respects your decision and makes it his goal to enjoy ever last day with you in a beautiful house. He still works alongside Giorno and his gang, but never once steps into a fight or situation without you and both of your safeties in mind.

Leone Abbachio

- He needs a drink, and bad. Yet, you stop him and instead force him into your arms on a couch and hold him until you’re crying tears of joy that it’s all over and even he’s close to shedding one or two; his face buried into the top of your head and muttering that he’s so grateful he hasn’t lost you.

- From there, his need to live for something or someone changes. His goal is no longer to be on hand and knee for an authority, but to be with you.

- His loyalty to Bucciarati remains, especially when they had been through so much together, yet much like his friend, he takes things easier. Leone’s mood is not as bitter as it once was and he softens every time he comes home from work to see you waiting for him or you return from your own occupation - both of you ready for some serious intimacy.

- If you’re apart of the mafia, he might pressure you to leave and live easy with his support, but he knows that you’d have to be pretty hard-headed to join the Passione, so leaving won’t be easy.

- After a year or so since the Diavolo incident he’d really want to settle down. Officially, the two of you would be living together by now but the house is just too quiet, which says a lot for such a silent, kept to himself man. During dinner one day, his cheeks are flushed red and he can’t even bring himself to eat or look at you. Worried that you’ve done something wrong, you ask what was causing this mood and the response of “I want children,” makes your fork drop to the floor.

- It’s entirely up to you if you both have children but if you do want to start a family, he’ll be overjoyed. He wants to commit to you and a rugrat or more. After all the shit he’s been through, having the ideal happy family dream is everything he could want. Also, he’d be an incredible father and husband. Nothing comes before his family, not even a mission. 

Pannacotta Fugo

- oh shit oh fuck he’s lost. what does he do?

- There’s a good chance he hasn’t announced his love for you yet, so that’s probably the first thing on his to-do list. He knows he shouldn’t wait for life to take it’s course anymore and that he knows to be with you. Sooo, with pure fear, he pulls you aside and yells out that he loves you and starts to ramble that it’s ok if you don’t feel the same. You shut him up with a kiss and tell him you feel the same.

- After that, he has no real plans. It’s ironic seeing as he’s a strategist who has everything planned out, but he doesn’t have much in mind. Would he stay in Passione? Maybe, maybe not. Fugo has realised that he’s missed so many opportunities when it comes to his education and that he could be using his high IQ for something good, yet he knows no where could handle his anger issues quite like Bucciarati and the others could; aside from you.

- He’s young still, so marriage and a settled life style is too early however he still wants to be with you a lot more. As awkward as they may be at first, Fugo takes you on many dates and makes sure they all end with him shyly telling you that he loves you.

- If he keeps up working with the Passione, he continues to mentor Narancia for sure. Still just as aggressively if the poor boy gets anything wrong.

- Might try to practice using Purple Haze in a way that doesn’t affect the others around him. After all, if he can’t develop himself academically in a educational field, then he wants to grow in other ways. His anger issues and reluctance to use his stand? He wants them gone, or at least manageable to a satisfactory level. Fugo knows it won’t happen quickly or maybe at all, though that doesn’t stop his efforts.

Narancia Ghirga

- He’s going to go to school, baby !!

- And you’re coming with him, whether you were already in it or not. He’s going to become smarter and at least try to experience a portion of a normal growing up experience with your’s and Fugo’s support. Both you and the strawberry man will be begged for tutoring, to which there’s no hesitation for agreeing.

- Narancia is so happy that the whole mess is over and takes you into his arms, kissing you at least hundreds of times, telling you in-between each kiss that he loves you and that he can’t wait to go back to how things were. “I (mwah) love (mwah) you (mwah) so so so (mwah) much! We’re going to (mwah) kick back and relax (mwah) and watch all our favourite movies and (mwah) eat all our favourite foods!” “Narancia, stOoOoP!”

- You don’t have a choice in the matter when it comes to sticking by him. You both are going to live free and happy, with no cares aside from homework and upcoming tests. 

- He’ll probably stay in Passione but makes time for school. It’d be a waste to not use Lil’ Bomber/Aerosmith and he wants to stay close to his gang until forever.

- Celebratory torture dance anyone?

Guido Mista 

- Both he and his sex pistols are all over you once they realise that you’re all free from the gruelling mission. His hands are under your arms and he picks you up, swinging you around with so much cheer that hearing anything but his joyous yells of, “we did it!” is impossible. At the same time, his sex pistols are crawling up your arms and towards your face, hugging your neck and face with their own mini cheers of victory. Eventually, they each place an individual kiss on your cheek while Mista plants his own right onto your lips.

- He sticks with the Passione as Giorno’s right hand man, living in the joy of being a top dog and working alongside his friends. With all that they sacrificed, he’s enjoying everything that he does.

- Much like Fugo, he feels as though he’s still too young to marry or start a family immediately. Instead, he helps set you up with your own job and visits you every lunch break to spend time together. If you’re in the mafia, he begs Giorno to let you work alongside him, which was probably the new Don’s plan from the get-go, otherwise he visits wherever you work whenever he can. If he doesn’t have the time, he’ll text you with a cute image of him at work to which you reply with your own.

- Oh, even without starting the family, Mista’s mini stands definitely act like you’re their mother. Everytime they see you it’s constant cries for food and attention, and sometimes they can only be calmed down by your affection, not even Mista can make them work well without them at least seeing you recently. Suppose that’s all apart of a stand being the true nature of a person. 

- Mista likes to spend his new raise in pay on himself and you. More rented movies, more lavish items, tons of gifts and bouquets that you insist you don’t need! 

- You guys would probably move in together just because he likes coming home to you and telling you about his day, or seeing your smile after doing nothing but stand around next to Giorno. He’ll lie at first and say it’s for the sake of controlling his sex pistols because they can’t get enough of you. 

Giorno Giovanna 

- Aw yeah, who’s head bitch now? This guy.

- He works day and night to make sure his dream becomes a true reality, not letting the opportunity that his gang members and you have given him by risking your lives by even associating with him. 

- Giorno’s head is in the game and he hits the floor running as soon as he’s the new boss, not wasting any time in claiming land and setting people straight with his new rules. 

- This leaves you a little down in the dumps. After all that, and he still wants to work… It’s only right that you grab him by the face and tell him that he deserves at least some sort of a break, preferably with you.

- Realising that he really does, and so do you, he complies by having at least a week of resting, eating fine food and doing whatever you want as money was no longer an object to him.

- Mafia or not, you’re his right hand aside from Mista and the others. He’s had a bad day or really doesn’t know what to do with all the work he has? You swoop in and relax him, telling him that it’ll be ok and suggesting ways that he could deal with things. 

- Mista jokes by saying you’re like his secretary like in those cheesy romantic movies and you come in the next day in a formal, assistant like outfit and Giorno’s heart stops. All and every ‘appointment’ for that day is cancelled.

- “I’m so proud of you Giorno, you got what you wanted.” You tell him, brushing a hand through his hair. “The love of my life and a fulfilled dream? Definitely, amore.” 

Trish Una

- She’ll probably want to stick by the you and the Bucci Gang since you all supported her so much. Plus, she wants to improve on using her stand, especially if it’s for good.

- The two of you are glad to be together and spoil yourselves rotten with a shopping trip and a long spa day or two. You spend a lot of hours hugging and comforting her as she definitely breaks down in tears after all she’s been through has caught up. Even if she tries in front of the others, she can’t hide the stress that’s been hitting a rubbery wall and waiting to break through.

- If you cry too, she’ll laugh and say “look at us. Aren’t we just the perfect mess?”

- She isn’t really sure about how or where she wants to live though she wants to see you a lot, maybe not 24/7 just yet but at least close to where you live. If you do end up living together, she’ll enjoy it all the same but will make sure she works hard or longer outside of the home so coming back to see you is a breath of fresh air. 

- Trish would want to have a committed, set life after all the bumps she’s had before. She knows who she is now, so from here on she’s going to be finding new parts of herself. From finding new hobbies and interests to doing some exploring across Italy and maybe the world, she really wants to come to terms with herself. 

[jadekitty777]

It’s done. It’s done! HOLY SHIT IT’S DONE. Two months later and I finally complete this monster of a tale. I can’t believe the effort this baby took that, once upon a time, was supposed to be a oneshot.  Gosh, I hope for those reading the wait was worth it - I for one am so relieved to complete this!

(Still) Day 8: Free Day for @taiqrowweek

Rating:  T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 16k - yes, 16,000 words

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: ...On Your Every Word

~

Between the hecticness of getting checked in, shown to a private room where Qrow was allowed to be uncuffed and dress in more ‘court appropriate’ attire, and then meeting up with Rhodes for one final run down – the next hour pretty much passed in a blur.

Before he knew it, he was walking into the massive conference room in which the UFK did all their business. The room was mostly taken up by tiered, half-circled seating so that the four kingdoms could face one another as they talked politics. But the rest of the room was left open, allowing for a “stage” in which prototypes of innovations could be placed or guest speakers could stand. This area had been transformed – at the far ends were two desks for the defense and prosecution to sit at and a single chair in the center for the testimony portion. There were a few reporters standing near the entrance so they could capture every second of the trial, but no gallery for an audience. Qrow wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

He took the seat beside Rhodes at the defense table, clasping his hands in front of him to hide their shaking. He was certain his scent was giving him away anyways.

The prosecution came in next. The tall, sharply dressed beta strutted in with a smirk and an aura of arrogance, like he’d already won before proceeding had even begun. Qrow had heard bits and pieces about Arthur Watts – apparently, Pietro and he had a long-standing rivalry in the courtroom, though the elder man didn’t go much into it. What he had gathered was the lawyer was sharp on his feet and merciless. He could change tactics faster than a snake bite and the only defense who’d ever been able to keep up with his quick wit was Pietro himself.

“Gentlemen.” Watts greeted them, snide in just one word. Qrow was already annoyed.

The questioning portion was going to go great.

Finally, the entirety of the UFK filed in, taking their seats in their respective portions of the stands. Over thirty people in all, there were many faces Qrow recognized and even more he didn’t. Yet, the four that took the only seats in the front row, the heads of the councils, needed no introduction. First was the jovial and high-spirited Theodore, the representative of Vacuo, who’d held his position so long because the votes always ended in a landslide on his favor. Beside him was James Ironwood, holding two seats on the Atlas council and, as a medaled general of the military, had helped to fund some of the most prolific technological advancements of their age. Next sat Leonardo Lionheart of Mistral, a man who’d spent his many years in term building up the educational needs of his people, and had the average-high tests scores to prove that focus had paid off. Lastly, was Ozpin, who was the youngest head of Vale’s council ever to be inaugurated into office and since that induction, had been pushing forward as many progressive policy changes as he could.

These were the four Qrow would have to plead his case to and hope he drummed up enough sympathy for them to pardon him.

From the way they looked down upon him, eyes seeming to judge the very way he breathed, it never felt more impossible.

“If we’re all in order, I believe we may get started.” Ozpin was the one to speak up and though his voice was something Qrow recognized easily, there was something so uncanny hearing him in person, rather than on the radio or TV. “Though it’s a tad untraditional, Theo, James, Leo and I will all be your acting judges for this trial. Each one of us can sustain and abstain a motion and we will move this trial along if any filibustering starts up. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your honor.” Pietro replied, echoed by Watts.

“Good. Are the defense and prosecution ready?”

“We are your honor.”

Ozpin nodded. “Then, the trial of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms has officially begun. The prosecution may begin their opening statement.”

Qrow took a deep breath as he watched the opposing lawyer get to his feet.

Here we go.

~

“-are usually upset and asking for me to help them.”

“How do your clients find this hidden parlor of yours?”

It was too easy.

That was the whisper prickling at the back of his head, as he orated how his clients located him. Pietro and Rhodes had coached him, prepared him on what to say for every question and how much to say. So, he’d been expecting the interrogation of his livelihood – his full name, when he started his work, what he made financially, the ways he kept himself off the grid, where he purchased his inks and needles, how he mixed it with his own scent, who he contacted when he needed a new dwelling to hole up in.

It was everything he’d been expecting, which meant something was wrong.

“I see, so everything was word of mouth. Yet, you claim your average clientele was about 4 people a week.” Watts was pacing, a hand running over his mustache.

Qrow tried not to follow his movements too much, nor look up at the council staring down at him as he sat in the center chair, feeling like a jester about to perform. “Yes.”

The lawyer hesitated, hovering almost thoughtfully, before turning to face him fully. “That’s quite a lot for an underground business, Mr. Branwen. Are you certain there isn’t something else you were offering your clients?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He replied stiffly, the stifling vernacular feeling odd on his tongue.

“Then let me rephrase: Were you also having sexual transactions with your clients?”

His eyes blew wide, his temper rising into an explosive, “WHAT?!” That wasn’t quite drowned out by Rhodes extremely loud, “OBJECTION! What’s the relevance?”

“I just find it strange that the accused has held up a traveling business for twelve years now on underpaid work, yet kept up a steady stream of customers. Customers whom, may I remind the court, are already feeling emotionally vulnerable – as Mr. Branwen here himself has already attested to. As an outsider looking in, that raises some concerns.” Watts didn’t quite hide his smirk as he looked up at the council, and Qrow realized at that moment he’d gotten him. He had been trying to throw him off kilter, and it had worked.

“Abstained.” Leonardo said just as Theodore enthusiastically hollered, “Sustained!”

The Mistrialian shot his fellow councilman a frown. “What? Why?”

“I just want to see where this goes.” He looked a little too proud as he lent back in his chair. Qrow felt himself sinking in his own.

“This isn’t a courtroom drama, Theo. We can’t simply have people follow useless tracks of information simply to indulge ourselves.” The other said, sounding like a man whose patience was already wearing thin. “This has nothing to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for.”

Theodore rose a finger, tsking. “Isn’t it though? Mr. Branwen is on about a dozen counts of misconduct and malpractice. Who’s to say this isn’t relevant?”

“Well…” Leo started, then merely trailed off with a shake of his head, as if he’d lost the heart to fight.

For a split second, it seemed the motion from Vacuo would pull through – then James spoke up instead. “Be that as it may, there is no evidence to continue this inquisition.”

In all his years, Qrow never thought he’d want to thank Tin Man Jimmy, but right then he could have kissed him.

Then Watts had to open his mouth yet again, “I actually believe one very specific document we’ve submitted might in fact raise some concerns that not all of Mr. Branwen’s dealings were solely professional. But if it would please the court, I can rephrase again.”

What!?

As the council leaders mulled that over, Qrow sent a panicked glance back at his lawyers. The duo shared a look, before Rhodes made a quick hand gesture of twirling his index fingers around one another.

Roll with it.

How was he supposed to just-

“We’ll allow it, for now.” Ozpin decided, sealing his fate. “Proceed.”

Watts nodded before turning back to him, looking very much like a shark about to circle its’ prey. “Mr. Branwen, you’re an unbound alpha, correct?”

“Yes.” He answered, forcing down the growl that wanted to erupt.

“And as you’ve reported, every single one of your clients was an omega. It would not be unusual for a connection, of sorts, to come about. These things happen every single day after all.” Watts said, gesturing to the air as if love was equally plentiful. “So, my question is, did you ever develop feelings for any of them?”

His reply was short and clipped, “Of course not.”

“May I remind you Mr. Branwen, that you are under oath. Is what you just said completely true?”

For a split second, he hesitated. There was no way he could know.

…Right?

Yet, something about the glint in the beta’s eye told him to be wary, so this time when he repeated his defense, it was as unambiguous as possible, “I never developed any feelings for any of my clients while I was working with them.”

“I find that’s a very interesting claim to make.” Watts strode over to the far side table, where the evidence for the case had been laid out. His tattoo machine and inks were the most prominent pieces there, but the lawyer bypassed them, rifling through a stack of papers at the end of the table. When he returned to where Qrow was sitting, he was holding just one sheet. “I have here a log of all visits made to you during your stay at the prison. I’d like you to read a few of them for me.”

Oh fuck.

“Let’s start with November 30th, shall we?”

Mouth dry, Qrow weakly said, “Pietro Polendina and Rhodes Dium.”

“Your lawyers, of course. And December 6th?”

He almost felt detached from his own body as he obediently read it off, “Taiyang Xiao Long, Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose.”

“The clearance level for these three lists them as family.” The beta glanced up towards the court to clarify. “Records show that Taiyang and Mr. Branwen’s twin sister Raven are the sires for Yang Xiao Long. Now…”

Qrow braced himself as Watts looked down on him once more.

“What about November 27th?”

He blinked, so baffled he gave an audible, “Huh?”

“November 27th, right up here Mr. Branwen. What does it say?”

His gaze followed where the other was pointing. “Clover Ebi?”

In the corner of his eye, he noticed how James sat up a little straighter, a hint of metallic musk filling the room, but most of his focus stayed on Watts. He couldn’t actually be thinking that he… and Clover…

Yet, sure enough, the beta pulled the page away and said, “Now why would the Captain of the Atlas Ace Ops be visiting you?”

Qrow couldn’t quite fight the smile on his face and for the first time since the trial had started, he felt himself relax. He knew Clover was down the hall, probably laughing his head off as he waited for his turn to take the stand.  

“Something humorous, Mr. Branwen?”

He settled back. “Of you thinking Clover and I are getting it on under the sheets? Yeah, that’s hilarious.” He heard more than one barely contained chuckle from around him – and Theodore didn’t even try. “Clover’s a former client and a friend. When he found out I got into a bind, he came by to help me out. There’s nothing more to our relationship beyond that.”

Again, even as his attention stayed mostly on the beta, Qrow noticed the Atlas leader lowering his hackles.

How odd.

Watts was glaring at him now, but Qrow didn’t balk, waiting for the other’s next move. The last thing he was expecting was what followed, “I have no further questions.” Before heading back to the prosecution desk.

Even Rhodes seemed confused as he was motioned over for the cross examination. Yet, as they met eyes, a silent agreement passed between them not to falter as they got ready to read their lines.

~

“And how old were you when you lost Eris Branwen?”

“Thirteen.”

It was the sob story of the ages.

At least, that’s what it was meant to sound like. Yet, as Qrow spun the tragedy of his childhood, he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed, using his mother’s name to try and sway the court.

Rhodes hummed, as if he were thinking it over, even though he already had the next question ready to go. “Would you say it was her passing that eventually inspired you to start your work?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t enough to simply speak it, he had to perform too. So, he kept his head angled down, playing it up like the loss was still affecting him terribly.

Purgatory. That was probably where he was going when he died. If not, then something worse. Some place with fire and pitchforks.

“What did you hope to accomplish?”

He clenched his fists, the ferocity in his tone no act, “At first, I was just kind of down on my luck and trying to make a quick buck. I had the drawing skills so I thought, why not? I could give omegas another way to get rid of their brands without them having to carve out their own skin, and make a little money on the side until I could find something more stable. But the more involved I got, the more I felt I couldn’t just walk away from this. I realized I was giving them something they desperately needed – a way to take back their lives.”

Qrow looked up, meeting eyes with each of the kingdom’s leaders as he spoke, “Every omega who has to go to a reformatory is branded. It doesn’t matter what reason they’re there. They could be considered too outspoken. They could have just lost a mate. They could be sick like my mom! And part of their bullshit recovery is to scar them? They don’t get a choice of anything – not the word, not the placement, not even that it happens.” He gestured a bit wildly, voice rising an octave. “They’re treated more like property then people! And while this is happening to thousands of omegas every year, too many of us look the other way. But after my clients started sharing their stories, their pain with me, I refused to look away anymore. So I decided to dedicate my life to my work.”

“Even knowing that one day, you’d probably end up in the courtroom?” Rhodes asked, voice soft in the wake of Qrow’s intensity.

“Yes.” He replied firmly. “I’d go to jail a thousand times over if it meant making the difference for just one person.”

“And how do you know that it does?”

Internally, he felt himself ease, knowing this was the last question. “Because they keep finding me. No one would keep telling others where I am if they didn’t think I’d helped them.”

Rhodes nodded, taking that in, before he moved to dismiss him, “Then Mr. Branwen, I only have one final question.”

Wait, that wasn’t the plan!

Qrow tensed as the beta continued, “You’ve already attested with the prosecution that your relationships with your clients were always kept either on a professional or platonic level. Is there a particular reason why?”

He took note of the way the lawyer shot a meaningful glance towards Watts’ table, and it clicked. Right, Clover’s testimony went after his – there was no doubt the opposing lawyer was going to try poking holes in his own story by grilling the omega. This was his last chance to strengthen his own case.

He could have said anything, really, but what Qrow decided on was the truth, “Because I was already in love with someone well before the day I started my first tattoo.” His lips quirked up, the smile small but eternally fond, “He never felt the same, but I already know no one is ever going to take his place in my heart.”

What must Tai be thinking, watching this from home?

Heh, he probably thought he was pathetic.

If Rhodes was surprised by this revelation, he didn’t show it. “Thank you, Mr. Branwen. I have no further questions. You can return to your seat now.”

As he stood, Qrow couldn’t help but glance back up at the leaders, trying to gauge their reactions. Theo was nodding to something his most trusted righthand, Xanthe Rumpole, was whispering in his ear, their expressions a bit tight. James seemed lost in thought, rapping his knuckles along the desk in front of him. Leo kept mussing up his mane of hair, frown pronounced. As for Ozpin, he was a complete enigma. Expression hidden behind the hands crossed in front of him and eyes concealed in the glint of his glasses, it was impossible to say what he was feeling.

It was even more impossible to say whether any of it was positive or not.

He slumped back into his seat, accepting the pat from Pietro and whispered, “You did good my boy.”

“Sure hope so.” He murmured back. It was a relief to be done – but the trial had only just begun.

Across the room, Watts stood to call on the first witness.

~

“Name and occupation.”

“Clover Ebi. I’m the Captain of the Ace Ops.” The announcement was almost unneeded, as the omega had come dressed in full uniform, all his merits in plain view. He was even standing at parade rest, rather than taking the seat offered. But the most obstruse item of all was the mark on his arm – normally covered by a bandanna, the tattoo on the lower part of his bicep was in plain view. It was a simple rewrite of Ebi, now in brilliant green ink, with a trail of linked shamrocks branching off from the end of the I and circling around his arm to meet back at the E.

Watts’ eyes narrowed as he regarded him before turning to the council, eyeing Atlas’ side. “Before I go further, perhaps it would be wise to address the obvious conflict of interest here.”

“Objection.” Pietro called. “Arthur, we cleared this prior to coming here. If this was a concern, it should have been brought up then.”

“A slip of judgment on my part, clearly. It does not change the fact that the person who appointed the good captain here to that position is currently sitting as an acting judge right now.”

James crossed his arms over the table, leaning forward. “If it would ease any concerns, I could certainly testify as well.”

“Ah, not to correct you your honor, but the proper ethical thing to do is to disqualify yourself.” Watts said, running his index and thumb over his mustache. Qrow almost expected him to start twirling the ends of it.

This wasn’t good though. James had two votes on the Atlas council – if he was taken out of the equation, it would be nearly impossible to win Atlas’ judgment.

Underneath the table, Qrow’s foot started to bounce nervously.

Next to him, Rhodes lent in, murmuring, “It’s okay, we were expecting this to happen.”

Sure enough, Pietro cleared his throat, clarifying in a way that almost sound practiced, “I think the proper term in this instance is ‘excuse’, as he should only need to be absent for the proceeding he may be biased against. General Ironwood would clearly be welcome to return once Captain Ebi’s testimony is finished. If that is how the court wishes to proceed of course.”

There were some whispers from above, but it was Leo who spoke first, “It would probably be for the best James.”

“Ha! Yeah, he is your golden pup after all.” Theo joked boisterously.

James shot the Vacuon a disapproving glance, “Must you be so crude?” He turned to the man across from him. “Oz?”

“I have to agree.” He decided. “Your judgment is generally sound, but the connection is undeniable. Stepping down for now is the right call.”

“Very well. Feel free to come get me once this portion is complete.” The general stood.

Almost automatically, Clover saluted him. “Sir.”

In the wake of his departure, Qrow could hear the reporters jabbering on excitedly from the back. Faintly he could pick out one of them saying, “There’s no telling how Atlas’ judgment will go with the head of the council being excused during their most critical witness.”

It filled him with dread – but between Rhodes and Pietro, neither of them looked even slightly unfettered.

“The prosecution may continue.” Leo allowed.

“Thank you, your honor.”

~

Round and round the questioning went again. Back in parade rest, Clover answered everything with a decisive and steady demeanor. Most of it was the typical stuff – when had he first heard about Qrow, how did he locate him, how much did it cost him to have the work done.

Eventually, the dreaded one came: “During your dealing with the defendant, did he ever show any inappropriate behavior towards you?”

“No. He was very professional and respectful of my personal space.” Clover reported.

Watts rocked back a bit on his heels. “But unlike most of Mr. Branwen’s clients, you happened to keep in touch with him?”

“Not exactly. I left Qrow my contact information in case he ever got into trouble and needed help. He only utilized it a few times over the years.”

“Is that how you ended up visiting the defendant on November 27th? He called you?”

Clover shook his head. “No. Qrow was never allowed to make a phone call.”

“That means you would have had to of located him on your own.”

“Yes.”

“I apologize but I don’t seem to understand.” Watts held out his hand, as if gesturing for the other to throw him a bone. “You’re telling me that for the most part, your relationship ended after the transaction. Yet, when Mr. Branwen was arrested, you voluntarily chose to locate him?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you go through such a hassle for someone you’ve met all of once and talked to only a handful of times?”

Clover shifted his head, just enough to spare Qrow a glance over his shoulder, before he faced forward once more. “Everyone needs someone in their court when they need help. Qrow had sacrificed a multitude of things to be in ours. I wanted to be in his if there ever came a time he needed it.”

“So it was merely obligation.”

“No.” Every without seeing his face, Qrow could hear the smile in the omega’s voice, “I’d like to think we’re friends.”

Watts didn’t seem moved by this show of comradery. “Are you absolutely certain Captain Ebi that there is not more to your feelings then that?”

“I’m positive. But if you need proof,” Clover posture relaxed so he could reach up, pulling down his collar in a way that was almost obscene. “I can assure you I did not get this from Qrow.”

Watts stared, then hissed between grit teeth, “I have no further questions.”

As he stepped away, the council went alive with noise as did the reporters. Qrow could already hear tomorrow’s headlines.

Ace-Ops Captain, Bonded?!

He swallowed down the guilt as he imagined the heckling the omega was likely to get upon returning to work. While he only knew the rough basics of military culture, he absolutely knew how much shit omegas got if they were discovered to be in any sort of relationship. The few retired ones he’d worked with over the years all generally held the same belief that joining the service not only meant signing away their life but also their right to finding a mate.

If that weren’t bad enough, Clover would also have to deal with Jam-

Qrow could practically hear the flip switching the light on, his eyes going wide.

No fucking way.

He glanced over at Rhodes as the man got to his feet to start his cross-examination, giving him an assured smile as he went. To his left, Pietro just seemed pleased, like things had gone exactly the way they’d planned. Had this been why they hadn’t been worried when James got tossed out? Because the mere presence of his own mate would have a sway on him?

That was either ridiculously brilliant or needlessly risky. No wonder they were the perfect lawyers for him.

~

Like a major gearing up to grill down a new recruit, Rhodes paced back and forth across the floor as he spoke, “Captain Ebi, you claimed Qrow was not given a phone call when he was imprisoned. Do you have proof of this statement?”

“Beyond Qrow’s word, no.” Clover admitted. Unlike Qrow, who was following his lawyer’s movements, the soldier was perfectly disciplined, staring straight ahead.

“Then, what makes you so certain he’s telling the truth?”

Before he could reply, Watts interjected, “Objection, that answer would be an opinion not a fact.”

“I’ll retract it then.” Rhodes conceded. “Captain, were there any other issues with my client’s legal rights that you’re aware of?”

Clover nodded once. “He wasn’t in the public system. Everyone incarcerated should be listed there, but I had to use my military clearance to locate him instead.”

“And how-”

Obnoxiously, Watts cleared his throat. Qrow couldn’t help but shoot the other man a glare – though the lawyer hardly seemed to notice as he drawled, “As fascinating as this all is, that’s prejudicial evidence and has very little to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for. If Mr. Branwen wishes to file for improper due process, he can handle that in Atlas’ civil courts.”

“Sustained. Mr. Dium, I suggest moving on.” Oz decided.

“Yes, your honor.”

It wasn’t a surprising outcome; truthfully, they’d both told Qrow it would likely get tossed out before they really took off running with it – especially after they discovered who the prosecutor was. Regardless, they’d agreed to keep it in to hopefully drum up more sympathy in the council. With so little said, it was hard to say if it would make an impact at all.

Hardly shaken, Rhodes barreled on. “Captain Ebi, you attested before that omegas in the military are branded with their last name. When does this procedure occur?”

“During the first week of recruitment training.” Clover reported.

“Do you get to choose where that mark goes?”

“No.”

“And alphas and betas are exempt from this?”

“Yes. Only omegas have to go to the brander.”

“I see.” The lawyer paced over to stand before him. “Did any of your commanding officers ever explain this discrepancy?”

Though Clover remained steady, Qrow could see the way his hands clenched a little tighter where they were crossed behind his back. “My sergeant at the time had said that when we signed up, we signed away everything to our Kingdom, including our bodies. Since omegas can’t control their scents or how distracting they might be to the other alphas in service, the tattooing was a way to alter that smell so it would be less desirable.”

“Now, perhaps this is merely because I’m a beta,” Rhodes waved a hand to himself as he said this, “But I always believed alphas had just as strong of a scent. Are you saying theirs wasn’t distracting to you on the field?”

The soldier shook his head in response. “No, they were. A few omegas were even known to freeze if an alpha’s scent was particularly overtaking in the moment.”

Though his eyes were trained on the two of them, in the corner of his eye Qrow noticed the furtive looks Sleet and Camilla – two of Atlas’ council – were sharing. Yet, it was anyone’s guess if their concerns came from the obvious discriminations or from allowing omegas to enlist at all.

“Did no one notice that issue?” Rhodes asked, beginning to pace again.

“They did – but our drill sergeants would only lay in on the recruit for losing their nerve.” Clover explained.

“During your time at the training camp, did anyone ever claim they had frozen up from an alpha’s scent?”

“No. Everyone was too afraid too. I spoke up once though when one of my buddies was getting reamed for it.”

“And what happened when you did that?”

“I was told to drop until I dropped.” At Rhodes’ arched brow, Clover clarified, “Meaning I was forced to do physical exercise until I was close to passing out. It was a common punishment for extreme insubordination.”

Qrow had heard this story before – it had been one the younger had shared with him while under the needle. That was how he knew just how much Clover was glossing over. Like how his drill sergeant at the time was also an alpha, and when she started shouting at the recruit in question, the shock of another alpha’s hormones so soon after the first only caused them to freeze up more. Or how the screaming had gone on for nearly ten minutes before Clover had stepped in. That during the duration of his punishment, the omega was constantly forced to push his limits every time he fell down from exhaustion, because his sergeant would threaten him with being kicked out if he didn’t get up.

It was from that, that Qrow finally understood why Clover had wanted the rebrand so badly.

Either Rhodes had already also noticed the inequity or had planned out his questions, because his next was: “Was anyone else given the same treatment for speaking out of turn?”

“No.” Clover’s tone didn’t quite hide his annoyance. “The only other time I saw someone go through it was for someone who tried to smuggle beer out of the kitchen.”

“Would you say this experience was what led you to eventually find my client and ask for his assistance?” Rhodes had stopped again, facing him once more.

“Yes; when I was appointed Captain, I felt a responsibility to my fellow omegas to take a stand against the inequalities we face in the military. Rebranding was the most visual way I felt I could do that.”

“Yet, until this day, no one publicly knew about your rebranding. Is there a reason for this?”

He hesitated, before continuing bravely, “My significant other convinced me not to. He said that I was already rocking the boat and if I rocked any harder then I’d capsize it. I took his advice to heart and committed myself to waiting.”

“And what were you waiting for?”

For the first time, Clover dared to break posture, looking up at the council as he declared, “A day in which I could tell my story and know people were finally listening.”

A brief but powerful hush fell across the court.

Rhodes let it hold a few seconds more, before finally saying, “Thank you Captain Ebi. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

~

There was no denying that something had changed in the court. The air had become tense and heavy.

It only seemed to grow as Maria took the stand next. To appear less threatening, Pietro took over the questioning when it came time for the cross examination. That way it seemed kinder as his questions unraveled bits and pieces of Maria’s past as a trafficked omega when she was only thirteen. Hearing it the second time through was no less easy then the first, and Qrow had to lower his head to hide his shining eyes. Simultaneously, Theo’s jokes seemed to disappear, his expression having hardened to something grave as he listened to one of his own people’s cruel upbringing.

“In my time, there was no way to take a stand against the things that happened to us.” Maria pointed her cane towards Qrow. “Having that whippersnapper over there redo my mark was my way of fighting back after all these years. The atrocities of my generation are thankfully long gone; but it’s clear to me there’s still much to be done with this one.”

After her, was Robyn. Needing no coddling, Rhodes stood at the forefront once more – but he hardly had to ask questions to get the woman to talk. She hadn’t taken the position of the Omega Alliance’s leader by being quiet after all.

That’s perhaps why it seemed to boom across the walls as she pointed up at the council, “With all due respect to the court, not a single person on any of the four councils is an omega! Who speaks for us? Our rights are decided by those who don’t know what it’s like to live oppressed. That’s why the Alliance protected Qrow – because when you’re oppressed or even simply supporting the oppressed, the rest of the world is quick to try and silence you.”

By the time Rhodes was dismissing her and taking his seat once more, he seemed a bit overwhelmed. “Miss Hill is quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”

“That she is. I think even our council was a bit overcome, seeing her in person.” Pietro’s laugh was hearty.

Qrow couldn’t fight the faint smile, though his nerves quickly took it away. There was only one witness left and then it was judgment time. The hours they had been at this suddenly seemed too short. “So, only Vernal left?” He asked needlessly, wincing when his voice cracked.

“Well, actually-”

Pietro never got to finish as Watts stood up and said, “I’d like to call the final witness, Taiyang Xiao Long, to the stand.”

There was no conscious thought.

He stood up, fast enough his chair tipped over, snarling angrily at the other lawyer, “WHAT?!”

In the next second, Rhodes was pulling him down by his arm, getting to his feet and saying rapidly, “Ah, can the defense have a quick recess first please?”

“I see no reason for that. We’re almost at the end and the UFK’s time is very valuable.” Watts interjected, smirking like things were finally going his way. “We can simply excuse Mr. Branwen if he can’t control himself.”

Fuck everything. He was going to go punch him in the face.

“Now, now, let’s all just calm down. It’s been a very long day and I’m sure all of us could use a breather.” Oz held a hand out towards their table, as if offering them a bone. “Fifteen minutes for the defense.”

They made it out the door in one.

The little sitting room he was brought to by a guard was entirely ignored as he whirled on his lawyers, voice rising, “How could you do this to him?!”

“Now Qrow-”

“Don’t!” He growled, not that it had any effect on the betas. “Denounce him as a witness! I am not going to allow you all to humiliate my best friend in front of the whole world!”

“We can’t do that. The only way Taiyang can be dismissed at this point is if he refuses to testify.” Pietro explained.

“Oh fucking perfect! This is just...!” Qrow threw up his hands, storming to the other side of the room. It was only the fact that the armchairs looked more expensive than his childhood house that prevented him from kicking any of them.

He picked up a forgotten notepad from one of the tables, tearing the pages to pieces instead.

Pietro rolled up beside him. “We didn’t seek him out. He volunteered to testify.”

“And you let him?!” Riiip. “You’re so smart, but you couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want him to be a part of this?”

“We know you’re hopelessly in love with him.”

It was a good thing magic didn’t exist – otherwise the glare he sent to Rhodes might have melted him on the spot.

Pietro hastily intervened, “What my associate means to say is, we understand your feelings have led you to be… less than objective on this matter.”

He couldn’t turn his imaginary superpower on the old man even if he tried, so he just went back to his quiet destruction.

“But the fact of the matter is, no one made this choice but Taiyang. For the same reason I imagine you made yours, my boy.” He gave him a comforting pat. “He wanted to protect you.”

Qrow paused halfway through a sheet. But after a beat, he scowled, tearing the rest. “Of course he does, that’s just… him! He’s not thinking it through. If this goes badly, he’ll never be able to get away from being part of this case. Someone will always remember. I don’t want him to live with that shame.”

“You know, I sat down with all the potential witnesses.” Rhodes began gently, “Most of them had another agenda, coming here. Good ones, of course, but still. Everyone else we considered were all preoccupied with making a statement. Taiyang was the only one who came here solely for you.” He came over, standing on his other side. “I don’t think the repercussions matter, even if he hasn’t considered them. Because to him you’re worth the risk.”

His old friend, Déjà Vu, nettled at the back of his head. Why did that sound so familiar?

Pietro added, “I think we all also agree you certainly shouldn’t go rotting away in a prison either. So, trust us all a little bit longer. We’ll see this through.”

“Can’t cry ‘till it’s all over, right?”  Qrow grumbled, the ripping finally stopped.

“That’s how it goes. Chin up, my boy. We got a case to win.”

~

It was certain. After today, wherever Qrow was going after he died, a section would be reserved solely for him.

Because he seriously could not be marveling just how wonderful Tai looked in a suit as he walked into the room. He even shot Qrow his ever-radiant smile as he made his way between the tables, taking his seat in the chair still set in the center of the room.

Leo lent forward. “Young man, do you swear that everything you are about to say will be nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” Tai said, placing a hand to his heart.

“The prosecution may proceed.”

Watts stood. “Thank you, your honor.” He was already spitting out his first question as he crossed over. “Please state your name and occupation for the court.”

“Taiyang Xiao Long. I’m an 8th grade teacher at Signal Academy.”

“Mr. Xiao Long, how did you come to know the defendant?”

Tai lent back in the chair, crossing his ankle over his knee as if he was about to have a casual conversation with the other man. “We grew up a few houses down from each other. Both our parents were of Mistrialian descent and Qrow’s family had recently moved to Patch. My mother felt it was important we got to know them and make them feel welcome. The rest is history.”

“What age were you?” Watts plucked at his mustache. Every time he did, Qrow couldn’t help but think the other was scheming up something.

“It was right before 1st grade started, so I was five, almost six. And Qrow was already six.”

“That’s quite a long time. And what would you consider your relationship with Qrow to be?”

“We’re best friends.”

Watts arched one fine eyebrow. “Not brother-in-laws? After all, the record shows Yang is his biological niece.”

“Uh, well,” The omega rubbed the back of his neck. “Raven and I never married. So, we’re not legally related.”

“I see.” Was the reply, something methodical behind the way the elder let the words drawl out slowly. Stalling as he thought. “But you two have remained close all these years?”

“I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs like any other friendship and his work tends to keep him distant.” Tai lent back, his next statement confident and sincere, “But yes, Qrow is my closest and most trusted friend.”

Though Qrow already knew that truth, the sentiment still made his chest warm brilliantly.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t have a chance to settle, because Watts chose now to take the shot.

“So then surely you noticed when Qrow’s fascination with omegas first started?”

Tai spluttered. “P-Pardon?”

“Hmm, so that’s how he’s playing it.” Qrow barely caught Pietro’s murmur under the crack of Rhodes’ hand smacking the table.

“Objection! Arthur that’s a leading question.”

The other lawyer gave a shrug, as if it didn’t truly matter. “So it is. I retract it.”

Had he done that on purpose? Nails scratching across the table, Qrow barely withheld a scowl as he started to figure it out as well. Watts was trying to give the idea he was obsessed. It didn’t matter that the question was getting tossed aside; just the implication he wasn’t fully mentally sound would stand out.

He breathed out slow, trying to reign in the anxiety.

It was fine. They still had to do the cross examination – which would be the chance to do some damage control.

“Am I still allowed to answer it?”

The entire court’s attention snapped to Tai, shocked and bewildered.

A beat, then suddenly the reporters were in a frenzy while Qrow desperately tried not to tear out his own hair.

Tai what are you doing!?

Even Watts wasn’t completely unfazed, having to clear his throat first. “Uh, yes, well... I suppose that is up to the court.”

“If he wants to, why not let him?” Predictably, that was Theo.

James sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Because it can lead to unsustainable evidence. Really Theo, have you ever sat in on a real court hearing before?”

“Nope!”

Qrow was beginning to think the only way he was winning Vacuo’s majority was by entertaining them enough.

From the opposite side of the bench, Oz sipped from his mug (when had that appeared?) as he peered down at Taiyang. “Do you believe what you have to say is important to this case?”

“I do, your honor.” Tai sounded so certain. What in Brothers’ names was he up to?

“Then let’s hear it.”

He nodded, facing the prosecutor once more. “The reason Qrow has such an interest in omegas is because he used to be one.”

Oh boy. Qrow sunk a bit in his seat, practically feeling the cameras turning towards him.

For the second time in ten minutes, the court went into a frenzy – bad enough that Leo had to call for order to quiet everyone down.

Watts was staring at Tai like one would a countryside bumpkin. “As fantastical as that claim is Mr. Xiao Long, biology does not work that way. Qrow was born an alpha, therefore he is an alpha.”

“Yes, he is, but he wasn’t raised like one. Qrow’s parents were convinced he would be an omega, so they groomed him to be one. He went to omega-based primordial classes. He could sew by the time he was nine and he was cooking with his mom a few months before she passed away. And that doesn’t even begin to cover all the socialization differences.” Tai uncrossed his legs, leaning forward. “Just because Qrow presented otherwise doesn’t take away from the fact that for thirteen years, he was an omega. So of course he feels a connection with the dynamic he was once a part of.”

“That’s a bold claim to make, but I’m afraid you don’t have the psychological expertise to back it.”

“Perhaps, but I do have personal experience.”

“As a teacher, you mean?”

“No.” Qrow didn’t have to see it to know Tai’s smile was smug. “As someone who lived his first fourteen years as an alpha.”

That got the court going again, though more contained this time around.

Watts seemed to be at the end of his rope with this clown show, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

It was a small, but significant, victory.

~

“So, you’ve never sat in on any of Mr. Branwen’s tattooing sessions with another client?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“I had no reason too. Not only would it be invasive for the omega having the work done, I’d seen and experienced first-hand how careful Qrow was with his work.”

“How can you be certain he wasn’t just treating you, his closest companion, as an exception?”

“I suppose he did in some ways. Like not minding our eight-to-ten-hour sessions for weeks on end. But as far as his work ethic goes, when I found him, he was thin as a stick because he was sacrificing his grocery budget just to make sure he had all the needles and antiseptics he needed in stock.”

The questioning had been going on for nearly forty-five minutes.

At first, he assumed Watts was just continually trying to dig through his history via Tai, hoping to find something incriminating to prove Qrow was, in fact, a spawn born from the deepest pits of darkness. While that was certainly somewhat true – such as spinning his introverted habits into something more sinister (“Did Mr. Branwen ever have other instances in which he had issue working with others?”) – it didn’t seem the lawyer’s primary goal. The realization of what was creeped up on him as he noticed Glynda hide a yawn behind her hand and Lil’ Miss check her watch.

“He’s stalling.” He hissed.

“Yes.” Pietro was equally displeased. “It’s one of his favorite tactics. He knows the more time he takes, the less we have. I figured he might do this right at the end.”

“Can’t you do anything?”

He rubbed a hand under his chin thoughtfully. “In a normal court, no… but perhaps in this one…”

“We’ll give it a shot.” Rhodes agreed, getting to his feet. “Objection! Arthur, you’ve been at this for quite some time. Is this line of questioning going anywhere?”

The other lawyer waved to Tai, “I merely wish to delve into as much of the defendant’s history as possible, seeing as Mr. Xiao Long here is our only character witness.”

“But wasn’t it also you who said the UFK’s time was valuable?”

“Are you accusing me of wasting time Dium? That’s not a true objection.”

From further above, James asserted, “As it is, I’m thinking to sustain it regardless. I’ve heard about as much of Mr. Branwen’s teenage escapades as I care to hear.”

As the conversation went on above them, Qrow couldn’t help but notice the way Tai fell back some in his seat, a line of exhaustion weighing his shoulders. It seemed Watts’ tactic hadn’t just affected the court. The omega had been very careful the entire time, never giving too much with any answer and, if he could, trying to keep things in a positive light.

He imagined since his best friend was trying to hold up one of the most cynical bastards he’d ever known, his arms had to be getting tired.

“Stop that. You’re not a joke, you know?”

The echoing words chiding him left his lips quirking upwards.

Heh. Right. When was he going to learn to stop underestimating the other man? Tai wasn’t here simply to get him out of trouble; he was here because he believed in Qrow. Not just what he represented, or the work he did, but him at his core. If anything, Qrow was the one being the real fool, not even humoring the idea that very little of what Tai had said so far even stretched the truth.  

That maybe, just maybe, Tai truly did regard him that highly.

Gods, He thought fondly, What did I ever do to deserve you?

As if he could feel Qrow’s stare, Tai glanced back. Though it was hard to tell from this distance, he seemed almost nervous.

Despite knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to make it out, Qrow mouthed as precisely as he could, ‘You’re doing great!’

Something must had translated, because Tai grinned.

“-Four more questions, understood?” Leo was saying, tuning them back into the trial.

“Understood your honor.” Watts replied. There was something almost deadly in his eyes as he faced Tai once more, like he was staring down a dueling opponent and he was best trying to figure how to win the draw. “Mr. Xiao Long, we’ve been speaking of the defendant’s purchase history for some time now, but there’s one in particular I would like you to look at with me.” Much like he had with Qrow, the lawyer picked up some documents from the evidence table, bringing them over. “As the court is already well aware, alphas and omegas are both required to be registered with the pharmacy, so that suppressant usage can be documented and properly distributed.” He stopped in front of Tai. “This is from six years ago, during the same months you happened to have testified you were within contact with him in Argus.”

Qrow sat up, ramrod straight as a stone dropped into his gut. Fuck.

“Will you read for the court the purchase made on July 27th and then the one made on August 12th, including the amounts and prescription length?”

Tai seemed confused, even as he complied, “Moschidor, 200mg, thirty-day use. $28.50. Odocoilus, 300mg, fifteen-day use. $53.66.”

“So, let me clarify what occurred here.” Watts said, gesturing with the papers to the court, “The defendant was on Moshidor, one of the cheaper suppressants on the market, but known for its general effectiveness for every day use. However, before the defendant’s prescription was even close to being finished, he was purchasing Odocoilus, a much more expensive and aggressive suppressant. We’ve also already covered that the defendant’s budget constraints hardly allowed for such lavish spending. Which only leads me to believe that he was in a position in which he had to make this purchase.” He spun back to Tai and took the shot, “So the question is Mr. Xiao Long, do you happen to know if some sort of incident occurred to spark this change?”

At a loss for words, the omega just spluttered. “I, well, uh…”

“Please answer the question Mr. Xiao Long.” He pressured.

Tai shifted uncomfortably, ducking his head. “He… had a spontaneous rut.”

Qrow’s nails dug into the grain of the table, hearing the too-loud whispers of the reporters start up.

“Well now isn’t that fascinating.” Watts exclaimed, looking much like a man who had just discovered a gold mine. “Spontaneous ruts are most often caused by the presence of a potential mate. It wouldn’t be an unforeseen happenstance, being around as many omegas as he was. But then, that doesn’t line up with Mr. Branwen’s declaration of holding a candle for someone well before his tattooing days, now does it?”

In the brief hush, Qrow worked out the options. Tai could lie, of course. Could say he just missed a few doses – but then Watts would string that along to make him seem irresponsible and intentionally hazardous. Or, maybe he could convince everyone the suppressants just stopped working because his body became too accumulated to his current prescription. It would work, if only it couldn’t be easily countered by the fact that effectiveness goes down overtime, and other rut-like symptoms would have popped up months prior to the full cycle.

It was with a sinking feeling he realized there was only one ‘good’ answer to that question.

A flush was working its way up Tai’s neck, pinkening his ears, as he no doubt came to the same conclusion. “It does, actually. Because…” His whole back rolled with the breath he took before raising his head, “I’m that person.”

Yet again, an explosion of noise overtook the court.

Qrow shut his eyes, as if he could shut it all out. The little victory they had gotten earlier on in the testimony felt like a consolation prize to the defeat they were facing now. Even with only two questions left, Watts had a dozen little ways he could twist that information and the precious seconds it took the leaders to call for order only gave him more time to figure out exactly how to best ruin the most beautiful thing in Qrow’s life.

Ruin it he clearly wanted too, what with the way Watts steepled his fingers together and smiled menacingly as he waited patiently for order to be restored before speaking, “Mr. Xiao Long, I’m afraid I feel like I’m missing a few pieces here. Your statement implies you triggered Mr. Branwen’s rut. However, spontaneous ruts don’t come about from a mere crush. Otherwise, we’d have every teenager in the world out of school every other week. Mr. Branwen had to be in a situation in which he felt you could become his mate for a rut to happen in this manner. So, what occurred between you two to create this chain reaction?”

“We… spent the night together. Platonically!” Tai stressed quickly. “It was my birthday and we’d had a few glasses of wine together. He invited me to stay over for the night. Nothing else happened.” A pause, then Tai added in rashly, “We’d done it a million times before so I didn’t think anything of it. I hadn’t known Qrow had had any feelings for me at the time, otherwise I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Qrow grimaced and hunkered down, already knowing what was about to be said.

Sure enough, Watts grabbed the lead in like he’d just fished his best catch of the day, “I find that very curious of you to say. Because Qrow’s already attested to the fact you never returned his feelings – but he failed to say when you rejected him. Now from this account, it seems to me he manipulated you into a hazardous situation, using your ignorance to his potential gain.”

Fury burnt in his gut, angry tears brimming. That wasn’t what happened! He’d never… could never have lived with himself, if he’d hurt Tai like that. How was it right that someone could mock his love this way? Make it seem like a sham.

Yet just as it felt like all he could do was sit here helplessly as the one thing he’d held most dear fell apart for all to witness, Tai stood up for him, chair scraping back, voice near explosive all on its own, “No! That’s not the truth!”

Watts merely arched a brow at the emotional display, and rather than calling him out for the outburst only egged him on further with his final question, “Then what is the truth, Mr. Xiao Long?”

“The truth is it was my fault!”

Oh Tai… Qrow shook his head, willing him not to take the fall for him but unable to stop him as he bravely carried on.

He expected some outlandish lie to protect him.

Some sort of tall tale that he’d conjured up to push the blame off of himself so that Tai looked like the guilty party in all this.

What he didn’t expect – the last thing he’d ever expect in the entire world – was what Tai said next.

“Qrow’s rut didn’t trigger because of his feelings, they triggered because of mine!”

WHAT?!

….W…What?

Even as the press stirred up behind him and the council bore down from above, Tai didn’t halt, tone trembling on the words, “I had started falling for him when we met up again. But I was too much of a coward to tell him, because the last time I had, my entire life was upended!” He pointed frenziedly towards James’ section. “I got shipped off to Atlas and my daughters ripped away from me! Years I’ll never get back, because I had dared fall in love a second time. I couldn’t stand the thought of it happening again, so I… I never told Qrow.” His arm fell and, with it, his ferocity.

Qrow didn’t need to see him to know he was crying.

“Not that it would have mattered. Qrow was already staying away as much as possible to keep me and my girls out of this. Telling him, when we couldn’t be together, would have been cruel.” Tai hung his head, ending softly, “I loved him too much to break his heart that way.”

The irony was, he certainly didn’t feel that was even possible, with how full his heart suddenly was. He wanted to cry. He wanted climb the tallest mountain in the world and shout his happiness until it echoed into the canyons. But more than anything, he wanted to jump up and take Tai into his arms and never, ever let him go.

Watts cleared his throat, reminding him where he was and that his life was on the cusp of being nothing but three stone walls and a door with bars. “I suppose… I have no further questions.” He walked back to his table, only stopping long enough to gripe, “And take your seat, Mr. Xiao Long.”

As Tai sat back down, Ozpin lent forward, surprisingly kind as he offered, “Would the witness like a moment, before we continue?”

“No.” He snuffled, running a hand over his eyes. “I’m okay. I apologize for the display.”

The leader only nodded, “Very well. The defense may proceed.”

Pietro gave Qrow a firm pat on the back, “Hang in there, my boy.” Before making his way to the evidence table. He picked up a paperback book and, strangely, a measuring tape, before rolling himself over to Tai. “I promise to be brief, Mr. Xiao Long. Now, you said it took about six months for my client to finish rebranding your mark, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And during those six months, you met every Sunday for up to ten hours a day, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And where is your brand?”

“It’s on my back.” Tai made a vague motion towards the area. “Across my shoulder blades.”

“I see. So, it’s not in plain view. Would you please remove your shirt to show the court?”

That had Watts snapping, “Objection! We’ve seen Qrow’s work on the other witnesses. We don’t need to disgrace Mr. Xiao Long in such a manner.”

“I do promise that I am going somewhere with this.” Pietro told the court. “Mr. Xiao Long’s time with Mr. Branwen was significantly longer than any other witness or potential witness we encountered, but I believe seeing it will only truly express why.”

The four leaders glanced at one another, before James tipped his head, “We’ll allow it. Mr. Xiao Long, if you would.”

Tai got to back to his feet, turning around. His fingers fumbled a bit over the buttons of his shirt as his eyes met Qrow’s, a confliction of feelings playing across his face. Qrow couldn’t help but feel a storm well within him. There was so much he wanted to say and to make up for. But all they could have right now were their gazes on one another, the longing between them almost tangible.

Tai shrugged out of his shirt, the fabric falling to the floor.

A ring of gasps could be heard from some of the councilmembers.

Qrow didn’t need to see it to know why, remembering every line he’d etched like it had been just yesterday.

He could almost feel his hand moving once more, his outline detailing the S into an 8 – Tai’s birthdate. Within the top and bottom circles, the colors of dawn and dusk bloomed anew along the beaches of Patch. Both the upper and lower half were drawn out symmetrically so they mirrored one another. Both had the same sands, the same waves, the same distant isles of Vale, and even the same birds flying in the sky. The only difference was the time of day, so that the sun rose and fell in infinity.

Beside it was the former L that was now shaped like an arch window. Spilling out of the shadows of a deep cave was a glorious four-legged dragon, with scales of gold and wings like a bird’s folded upon its back. It was peering down at where the end of its tail was curled up like a small spiral, where a little black bird was perched, beak open in song.

Then was the U, no longer detectable as it had blossomed into a simple silver rose, a loving reminder of a pendant Summer herself once wore. The edges of the rose were given a red tinge to match the woman’s graduating hair. A few of the petals were giving way, delicately falling on either side. Cursive script had been added both above and below the rose, the exact words of a poem the woman had once adored, versing out: ‘Thus kindly… I scatter’.

Finally came the T, now transformed into a maple tree not unlike the ones spread around the yard of Tai’s house. This one was on the cusp of autumn, its bright green leaves having a blush of reds, oranges and yellows. At the time it was a wish, the colors a representation of the family Tai hoped to raise at his former summer home. Below the tree, a sea of white daisies and sunflowers had sprouted up, stems bent like they were dancing. A new beginning in the sunlight.

Each one was created with a steady hand and careful consideration for the man who bore them. So that when Tai walked out the door that final time, it was no longer with shame, but with pride that he could wear something on his back that was as beautiful as he was.

Pietro allowed them to stare for several long seconds, before he requested, “Rhodes, if you could assist me for just a moment.” The other lawyer was quick join him, taking the tape measure as it was handed over. “If you would, could you measure out the length of the first tattoo for me?” The ruler made a metallic hush as it was pulled out and held against the man’s back. “Now Mr. Xiao Long, could you read for us the reading on the tape?”

Tai glanced down as Rhodes held it out towards him. “Eight and a half inches.”

“And what was the first letter of the word on your back?”

“It was an S.”

“Is the S still discernable?”

“Yes. It’s one half of the figure eight.”

Pietro nodded, glancing at his associate. “Just to make sure it is fully understood, Rhodes, can you trace the letter so that the court can clearly see what Mr. Xiao Long means?”

“Of course.” Rhodes complied, stepping to the side so it was in clear view as his finger followed the line.

“Thank you. You may return to your seat Rhodes. As can you, Mr. Xiao Long.”

Tai met Qrow’s eyes one more time, and this time gave him a tiny smile, before he turned to settle back into the chair. He fetched his shirt up off the floor.

While Tai was making himself decent once more, Pietro drew the attention his way as he held up the book to the court. “I have here in my hand a guidebook from the New Horizons Reformatory, the very same one Mr. Xiao Long attended. In chapter three of this book, are the guidelines for omega branding.” He flipped over to the chapter he had to be talking about, holding it out to Tai. “Mr. Xiao Long, would you please read aloud the parameters for acceptable size of the brand, as listed under section 3?”

“A brand is not to exceed the length of two inches and no larger than the length of the chosen body part to prevent words from circling around the limb.” Tai recited obediently.

“Mhm. And can you also read aloud section 5?”

“The chosen word cannot in any way be considered: derogatory, defamatory or otherwise indecent to be seen by the public eye.”

Pietro lowered the book. “Mr. Xiao Long, the word that was on your back is entirely indiscernible, but am I correct to assume it was a four-letter word that started with an S?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please tell the court what that word once was?”

Tai took a breath and the room seemed to hold it with him.

Then, he released it and the terrible truth along with it, “It used to say ‘Slut’.”

Not a word was uttered. Even the reporters in the back had nothing to say, because it spoke for itself.

Qrow chanced a glance upwards. Few could look at Taiyang, and those who were did not hide their humanity. Of course, it was the four leaders that seemed the most prominent. Theo’s frown was heavily pronounced, his gaze burning holes into the tabletop in front of him. James was running a hand over his eyes, a sagging to his once proud shoulders. Leo was shaking his head, murmuring quietly to himself. And Oz, as usual, was near completely unreadable, hiding his expression behind his hands again.

Hope beat like a frail thing in his chest and he tried not to hold it too hard.

The silence was eventually broken by Pietro snapping the book closed with an air of finality. “Thank you, Mr. Xiao Long. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

“Well,” Leo spoke up, as the two men began to move. “As there are no further witnesses, we’ll allow for the final statements. After that, the jury will convene for a judgment and-”

The rest of it faded to background noise, Qrow’s fixation completely on Tai as he passed between the tables.

The omega paused, just long enough to mouth a single word to him before he continued on:

‘Soon.’

It felt like a promise.

~

Thirty minutes was all it took to decide his fate.

He had thought the deliberation period would last longer. That everything they’d done here today would shake up at least some people’s conventions. Yet, for the decision to be made so quickly meant there’d been little to no discourse. No split votes. No uncertainties. Nothing that held up their ruling.

Almost as if their verdict had been made well before he even first walked into the room.

It didn’t seem to add up. After all the heavy expressions, outbursts, and shocked silences, Qrow had thought they had had an impact.

Had it all just been for the cameras?

Had nothing mattered?

Traversing the path back to the conference room for the last time, Qrow felt like he was walking back to the gallows.

“Don’t look so glum. It’s not over yet.” Pietro urged as he wheeled along beside him.

He scoffed. “Tch. Might as well be. Face it wheels, they already knew what they wanted to do with me before we ever started this dog and pony show.”

“Perhaps…” Was all he said and thankfully no more.

On his other side, Rhodes offered him a firm pat to the back, though it failed to do much when his own expression was crooked with nerves.

Too soon, Qrow was settled back into his chair between his lawyers. Not much had changed about the room, except the witness chair was gone and the reporters had been given permission to encroach further in the room – most of them stood only ten feet away from his table. Across the way, Watts was completely at ease, his hands clasped before his face to hide a smirk. No doubt because he too knew this was already over.

Ozpin spoke first, “We’ve called you back in here because our councils have reached our verdicts. Each head of council will give their individual verdicts based on majority vote before giving our unanimous ruling. Mr. Branwen, we ask you to come to the center of the room as we read our verdict.”

The heat of an invisible spotlight followed him every step of the way as he did as requested, until he stood in the exact spot he’d made his initial testimony. But the anxiety he’d felt then was nothing compared to now – heart pounding, ears rushing, hands curled up into fists to hide their shakes. It took all of his strength to look up and face the court. Every face he looked at was carefully blank, giving away nothing.

Barred, like he soon would be.

“James,” Oz gestured towards him, “Since the defendant was apprehended on your kingdom’s grounds, I feel it only appropriate to allow you to go first.”

“Thank you Oz.”

As the general got to his feet, Qrow ducked his head to hide his grimace. It was better this way. Hearing the one kingdom that assuredly condemned him meant he couldn’t possibly get his hopes up by any other rulings.

James began, voice commanding all attention to him, “In the case of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms-”

He screwed his eyes shut. On the cusp of the end of his life, he swore it flashed before him. Tiny, trivial, nearly uncatchable bits of the people he’d left behind or let down.

His father’s stern hand.

The softness of his mother’s hugs.

His twin’s pretentious stance.

His nieces’ excitement every time he came home.

The buzzing of his pen as he drew a thousand different works of art upon a thousand different people.

“-We, the council of Atlas, ruled 3-to-5 and find the accused…”

But of everything that slipped in and out like sand through an hourglass, the one that held tightest without letting go was Tai. Until there was nothing left in his memories but the bright smile he’d first fallen in love with eighteen years ago.

A smile he’d taken for granted twelve years ago.

Had fought to bring back six years ago.

Now, today, he’d be taking it away, as the world who cared nothing for an omega’s happiness found a way to break his heart for a third and final time.

I’m sorry, Tai. Qrow thought helplessly just as the verdict was declared.

“-Innocent of disorderly conduct against omegakind.”

Qrow wasn’t sure if the boom he heard was Watts’ hands meeting the table from shock or his own head exploding.

Had… he truly heard that right?

As he dared peek in James’ direction, he swore he got the hint of a smile on the man’s face as he took his seat once more. A glance back, and he could see Pietro and Rhodes’ optimistic expressions. Watched the reporters twitter about animatedly, repeating the ruling into their cameras.

“Can you believe-”

“The ruling is in-”

“-and in this shocking turn of events-”

“-Atlas’ decision is innocent!”

The shock hadn’t even had a chance to start wearing off, before Qrow’s focus was forward once more as Leo was encouraged to go next.

His proclamation was much shorter: “The Mistral council finds Qrow Branwen innocent in a 6-to-9 ruling.”

Then went Theo, who had the audacity to wink at him before speaking, “The Vacuo council ruled 7-to-11 that Mr. Branwen is innocent.”

Breath coming short and every bit of him tingling, Qrow could barely contain his anticipation as Ozpin stood to give the final verdict:

“In a unanimous 8-to-8 ruling, we the Vale council also declare the accused innocent. As the UFK has reached a shared ruling, Qrow Branwen will be acquitted of all charges against him.” Before the commotion could really get going, the leader held up a hand, speaking over it, “Furthermore, this case has brought to our attention that omega branding has become an outdated and, quite frankly, inhumane practice. Thus, we have decided that any form of branding will be prohibited in all institutions across the four kingdoms from this day forward.”

The reaction to those words was a thunderous roar that rattled the windows and shook the rafters. It took Qrow a moment to place the source, until it hit him that it was coming from outside. It was the massive crowd that had gathered on the lawn, all cheering so loudly that it was bouncing off the walls, amplifying the noise until it resonated more like a pride of lions triumphantly sounding off, letting their voices be heard.

Silenced no longer.

In the wake of it, Ozpin was almost inaudible as he finished, “This court is now adjourned. Qrow, you’re free to go.”

It took him a moment to get his legs to cooperate, relief turning his limbs to jelly as he swayed back over to the table. Both lawyers were quick to greet him.

Rhodes’ excitement was palpable in the way the pat he delivered to his back was enough to whoosh all the air from his lungs. “Come on Qrow, smile! You’re not walking out of here in handcuffs.”

“I know, I just… did that really just happen?” He questioned, half-expecting to wake up from the past five minutes and discover it was all just a dream.

“That it did. Hold it with pride that this was a well-earned victory.” Pietro congratulated, holding out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, my boy.”

For some reason, that was what finally got the tears to gather, though Qrow stubbornly tried not to let them fall as he shook the other’s hand. “Thank you. Both of you. I wouldn’t have had a chance without you.”

“Believe me when I say the thanks is all from us. Working on a case like this is something lawyers only dream of.” Rhodes replied. “I haven’t seen this old man so invigorated in years!”

“Now Rhodes, don’t make it seem so self-serving. Anybody with eyes could see Qrow was no criminal. In the end, it’s not the prestige that I’ll be holding onto, but the joy in seeing this young man walk free.” The elder admonished.

The battle was lost as the first tear slipped down his face, though Qrow was quick to wipe it away. “I-”

“Mr. Branwen! Can I get a statement?”

He started at the shout, seeing one of the reporters beelining towards him – though her call had drawn the attention and ravenousness of the others. Sharks, all of them.

Pietro mumbled quietly, “Rhodes, I believe Qrow needs to make a hasty exit.”

“Got it.” Before he could blink, the lawyer was pushing him between the cameras and the microphones, saying diplomatically as they went on by, “While I’m certain Mr. Branwen would love to answer all your questions, he has a rather important matter to attend too.” He would have sworn it was just a ruse meant to dissuade the press. But then they reached the doors, and Rhodes was leaning over, whispering in his ear, “Take a left, then go down the second hallway. You’ll find an elevator there. Tai’s on the second floor, room 218.”

The realization hit like a strike of lightning.

Right, no more cells. No more handcuffs. No more guards.

If he stepped out of this room, no one would stop him.

He was truly and wholly free to go.

Which meant…

“Go get him.”

Qrow hardly needed the push, feet pounding loudly on marble as he sprinted down the hallway, running faster than he ever had in his entire life. His shadow stretched alongside the wall beside him, cast by the falling sun outside that came through the floor to ceiling windows. A glance outside revealed the masses still celebrating. They were a sea of faces, indistinguishable in the dimming light, but their rapture was universal. Seen in the hugs being shared. Shoulders being cried on. In the group that had started to dance for no other reason than to share in each other’s joy.

Tomorrow, they’d remember the other battles still left to be fought, the inequalities still meant to be corrected – but today was for rejoicing, for reveling in one of the most monumental gains for omegakind in over fifty years.

Through the tinted windows, Qrow smiled to them before disappearing around the second corner without a single one of them ever knowing he was there.

Unseen as he always was meant to be.

~

The elevator was taking too long.

“Come on, come on.” Qrow pressed the button another half dozen times, tapping his foot impatiently. As he waited, he couldn’t help but wonder what Tai was doing right now. Was he still watching the newsreel on his scroll? Or was he standing by the window, watching the ongoing merry-making of his fellow omegas? Or maybe he was pacing the room, just as anxious to see him as Qrow himself was.

Gods above, he didn’t even know what he was going to say to him. All he knew was he needed to be with him, right now.

He stared at the light above the door like he could will it to light up.

Another few seconds passed and it remained offensively dark.

“Tch!” He scowled at it, rushing back into hallway, sprinting for the door at the end that had a sign marked “Fire Escape” on it. He sent a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be alarmed as he reached for the knob.

Only for it to swing open of its’ own accord.

Qrow’s heart jumped as he suddenly found himself staring back at Tai, disheveled and winded, on the other side. Like he’d just run the entire way here.

The omega took about a half-step out before his eyes blew wide as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Qrow! How did you – I mean, what are you doing?”

“Coming to find you.” Qrow rasped, swallowing a bit. “How ‘bout you?”

Tai’s scent spiked, nerves making it sharper, more prominent. “I, uh, same. Was trying to use the elevator but-”

“It was taking too long?” He guessed, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

“Yeah.” Tai said, beginning to grin along with him.

Then they were laughing, as it hit them that in their haste to see one another, they had done the exact same thing. Qrow’s amusement only grew, when he surmised that the reason the elevator was probably taking so long was because it was on Tai’s floor, waiting for the blond who already was long gone.

He was just starting to get ahold of himself, taking in a breath to speak, when a ding sounded off and voices and footsteps filled the hall. He glanced back, unease filling him as he recognized Robyn’s voice. Though he imagined she was probably going to join the festivities out front, if she spotted him, she’d surely want to catch a word. He wasn’t the only one to pick up on the issue, because Tai abruptly grabbed onto his wrist, yanking him into the stairwell. The door whispered shut behind them.

“Sorry, I just…” Tai trailed off, letting go.

Which was just unacceptable. Qrow reached out, capturing his hand in his and squeezing tightly. “I know. Me too.” The omega looked between their hands back to him.  “So… all this time?”

“I, yeah.” He sucked in a sharp breath, a swell of emotions caught in his tone, “I wanted to tell you so long ago. But, I just – Gods I don’t even know where to start.”

He hushed him soothingly, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. “Hey, none of that now. Remember what you told me before? Just because they’re your feelings for me doesn’t mean I own them.” That same hand quested further, winding around the back of his head to card through blond locks. “In fact, forget all that. I don’t need you to explain and by Gods do I not want you to apologize, for anything.” He lent forward, until their foreheads brushed and all they could see was each other. “I just want to know: This is really what you want? You want to be with me?”

Those beautiful blue eyes that Qrow’d seen be as turbulent as a stormy sea and as calm as an undisturbed lake stared back at him in a way he’d never quite seen before. They had softened to something strikingly warm and crystal clear, much like the beaches of Patch. Like home.

“Yes.” Tai resolutely replied, gentle and sweet. “Yes, I really do.”

Overwhelmed, Qrow could only bring him that much closer, promising against his lips reverently, “Okay. Then I’m yours,” before the distance between them closed.

Somewhere, the world was still turning around them. But for Qrow, his own had been off its axis for months now.

It was only in Tai’s lips against his that he felt it finally right itself once more.

~

It was still blissfully early in the workday when Qrow led his final customer back to the front of his shop, going through the care instructions like a mantra. “-And don’t forget, no direct sunlight until it’s fully healed. Got all that?”

“Yep!” Gretchen assured, her high voice giving an almost musical lyre to her words. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to get rid of all my stupid knee-high socks.”

Distracted by a random flutter of anxiety, his response came late, “Ah, don’t mention it.”

They walked into the lobby area – or, as he often jokingly referred to it, his art museum. The walls were covered in nothing but framed mementos of his work. Some were just drawn onto sketchbook paper, others were actual photos of past clients showing off their marks. The room was fairly sparse besides a small desk that had his itinerary for the year and a desk phone. A few chairs were also scattered about the room for friends or family of the client.

In one of them sat Gretchen’s brother, Hazel. Upon seeing them, the absolute mountain of an alpha got to his feet, trudging on over. “All done?”

“Uh-huh.” The woman launched herself at him and despite her petite size, Qrow could tell her hugs were rather large. “Thank you for paying for this.”

“I’m just glad it made you happy.” He said with complete sincerity, his own embrace lifting her off the ground.

Qrow had to wonder if it was like getting a hug from a grizzly bear. Still, the sight pulled a smile out of him. It was always reassuring, seeing his clients getting the support they deserved. “Call if anything doesn’t seem right, okay?”

“I will.” With a wave goodbye from Gretchen and a silent nod of gratitude from Hazel, the pair left his shop together, plans to visit the ice cream shop down the block trailing after them.

He locked the door behind them, a sense of anticipation rolling through him. It was rare he got to close up shop before sundown on a Friday and he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend at home. He worked out the stiffness in his neck and wrist as he went about the motions of preparing for the following week. The pen was taken apart and dropped into the ultrasonic cleaner. While the cycle ran, he settled back out front to make a few calls, confirming Monday’s appointments.  Next, he checked the inks, refilling the black and blue that had begun to run low. By the time he was done with that, the cleaner was done and he reassembled the pen, storing it away in its’ kit.

After that, there was nothing left to do but pull out his scroll and text Tai.

Early night at the shop. Should be home by six.

He felt the response in another wave of anxiety well before he heard the jingle from his device. Just getting dinner started. See you soon.

Qrow hesitated, tempted not for the first time today to just ask what was up with his mate, but like every other time, he pushed the selfish desire down.

After they’d bonded, he and Tai had established early on that neither of them wanted the other to drop everything to be at each other’s beck and call whenever they felt a hint of a negative emotion. It was too stifling and, when it came right down to it, too insulting. He didn’t need Tai in his ear while dealing with an ornery customer any more than Tai needed him at his side every time one of his coworkers got on his nerves. They both wanted to feel trusted, not coddled.

So, curiosity wasn’t a great reason to break that trust.

Whatever was making Tai feel so jittery, he knew he’d tell him when he was ready. Until then…

Could pick something up on the way home, if you’d rather. He offered.

The reply was just a picture of their kitchen counter, spread with the familiar ingredients for his favorite curry dish, followed by a cheeky, You sure?

He folded quicker than a bad poker hand. Forget I said anything.

Tai just sent back a bunch of laughing faces.

Qrow took it as a good sign.

~

Harbinger’s Tattoo Parlor was located in a small shopping center in central Patch, easy to find even for the farthest of travelers. It was also a convenient fifteen-minute drive from the forest-entwined cabin Qrow called home. The trees acted like a natural privacy fence, with only a winding dirt road the only way in. Driving in, the home seemed to glisten in the late afternoon light, a recent coat of timber stain having given the logs a dazzling sheen, making the decades-old structure appear newer than it was. Little planters of sunflowers and daisies surrounded the front and eastern sides of the home, adding a serene splash of color to the dwelling. He gave the blooms an appraising eye as he continued down the path to the backyard, parking by the shed.

No sooner after he’d cut the engine and started making his way towards the house, did the door burst open and his nieces came flocking out.

“Hi uncle!” Yang said, snatching the keys as she went. “Bye uncle!”

He blinked down at his empty hand. “Hey, wait!”

“Love you!” Ruby dropped a kiss to his cheek, bouncing on by with a few colorful giftbags swinging on her arms and a bundle of fur clutched between her hands.

“You’re taking Zwei too?!”

Already halfway in the driver’s seat, the younger alpha shouted back, a clear tease in her tone, “Thought you didn’t like the ‘mangy mutt’?”

“I don’t – was just hoping you were leaving him there!” He retaliated, waving a hand behind him as he headed inside. “Have fun. And don’t crash my car.”

The roar of the vehicle coming to life drowned out whatever response they may have given him. He counted his blessings the Valkyrie residence was only a few houses away as he watched them peel away before stepping into the kitchen. The sound that greeted him was the swishing of a wooden spoon mixing food into a skillet, the heat up high to bring it to a shimmer.

“Welcome home!”  Tai greeted with an unusual amount of enthusiasm.

Unsure if it was wise to address it or not, Qrow erred on the side of caution as he strode over with nothing more than a casual, “Hey sunshine.”

He waited until the omega had set the cover down on the pan, before gathering him up in his arms and pulling him back against his chest. When that was met with no resistance, he nuzzled against the side of his neck. After being surrounded by a variety of different scents, it was nice to be enveloped by only his mate’s earthy aroma.

“Mm, how was your day?” Tai asked as turned in his grasp to return the gesture.

Qrow tilted his head back to allow him. “Good. Finished off Gretchen’s mark today.”

“The one who wanted the gingerbread house?”

“Yeah.” He shivered a bit as lips brushed against his bond mark, the scarring having left the area extra sensitive. “How was yours?”

Another spike both in his gut and in Tai’s scent. But his mate only brushed it off with a chuckle. “Oh you know my students, they always like to kid around.”

He groaned, nipping his ear in retribution. “No.”

That got him a more honest laugh. Tai wiggled free, turning away to start cleaning up the dishes and spices he’d left out. “It was math and movie day, so nothing interesting to report.”

With his back turned, he couldn’t see the way Qrow frowned. He’d hoped once they were in the same room together, Tai would open up. Now, he had no idea what was going on. Unless…

He eyed the skillet, his favorite dish still bubbling away underneath the top. It wasn’t unusual for him to make it, but after a long, tiring week at work, slaving over a stove was the last thing either of them wanted to do. Usually, they had pizza or leftovers or something quick and easy. Tai deciding to do something special reeked of him trying to butter him up for something.

Then, there was the oddity of the girls’ bringing Zwei along for a birthday party. Fun as the puppy was, he was also a lot of work and Qrow really couldn’t see a group of teenagers willingly wanting to spend an entire weekend watching him. Especially when he couldn’t get his own to clean their rooms.

Which meant, either they’d been bribed or Tai had been.

“Really, nothing at all?” Despite his mounting suspicion, he kept his tone casual, crossing over to the fridge to fetch himself a drink.

Another clench in his gut. Another lie on Tai’s tongue. “Yeah. It was just another normal day.”

Normal his ass. Qrow pulled out a beer, cracking it open and kicking the fridge door shut all in one motion. He swore to the Gods, if all this was over some new mutt hiding out in their shed, he was going to lose it.

Tai passed him on the way to the sink, pausing just long enough to drop a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

…But, he supposed he could play along.

~

“Want dessert?”

The call from the kitchen roused him and Qrow’s eyes slipped back open.

He had long ago kicked off his shoes and his ankles were crossed over the coffee table while he lounged back on the couch. The T.V. was playing the latest episode of All Our Life but he’d long ago tuned out whatever comedy the campy sitcom was trying to pull. It had been going downhill ever since Season 3 anyways. Tai must have felt the same, if he’d decided to clear the dishes instead of waiting for the credit roll.

“What are we having?” He yelled back, hitting the power button on the remote with his toe. Maybe they could put on a movie instead.

“Tried and true!”

He snorted. “Sure.”

There was a clack as the pantry opened and closed. The nerves had spiked again, bad enough Qrow had to take a few deep breathes. He sat up straight, bracing himself for the ‘news’. He’d already planned out his reaction. He couldn’t wait to yank Tai’s chain over adopting yet another mangy menace for them to care for – even if he was going to give in in the end.

“Oh, that reminds me, I thought of a great joke.” Tai said as he came back into the room.

Oh Gods, this was how he was going to tell him? Forget it. The furball was going back to pound. “Great is relative with you.”

“Oh hush up and listen! So, what did the bumblebee say to the sugar ant on his birthday?”

His brow furrowed, confused. That didn’t really lead to ‘puppy’ or ‘kitty’. “I don’t know, what?”

“He said,” Tai replied as he tossed him the packaged cupcake, winking as he did, “Boy, this sure is a sweet gift!”

“Ha. Ha. I’m just dying over here.” He deadpanned, ripping open the plastic.

Qrow waited for the rest of the punchline to come, but his mate only dropped down next to him, saying nothing even as his anxiety skyrocketed. Alright. Still not ready then.

He sighed softly, tugging out the cupcake, removing the cardboard bottom.

And froze.

“Speaking of gifts…”

Tai’s voice seemed to come from far away, barely tugging away Qrow’s focus as it centered on the little square in his hand.

Flecks of chocolate had clung to it, but it wasn’t enough to block out the words written on it in happy, yellow ink:

We’re pregnant.

“We’re… You’re…” He stilted out, mind whirling as he looked at his mate, “We’re gonna have…?”

Tai was biting his lip, but it didn’t quite tame the growing smile as he nodded.

Love and affection surged so strongly in Qrow’s heart, Tai’s eyes started to water. The omega was laughing by the time Qrow had dropped the things in his hands to instead pull him into his arms, hugging him as tight as he could. He rained kisses and adoration along the other’s face. “I love you. I love you so much. My Gods. We’re really having a pup?”

“Uh-huh.” Tai swiped away some tears budding in Qrow’s eyes now, even as more fell from his own, the emotions growing between their bond intense and overwhelming. “Found out this morning. I’ve been waiting all day to tell you.”

“I knew you were freaking out about something. But I thought you were gonna tell me we were getting another dog!”

Tai guffawed loudly. “Of course not! Unless…”

“No!!”

He only dissolved into more hysterics. Qrow was soon to follow, the joy contagious.

~

It was hard to know how long they stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, but eventually they found themselves sprawled together on the couch, talking long into the night about all the little wonders their future now held. From how they’d break the news to Ruby and Yang to how they wanted to decorate the spare room when it became a nursery, there was so much to think about. But rather than feel worried, Qrow only had anticipation in his heart.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d freak out.” He remarked, smoothing soothing circles along his mate’s back.

Tai rose a bit from where he was resting on his clavicle. “I mean, I know we talked about it here and there, but we hadn’t exactly planned this.”

“Sunshine, I dunno where you’ve been the past two decades, but nothing in my life was something I planned out.”

“That’s not-!” The omega paused his own argument, adding humbly, “…entirely true.”

He snorted. “Good save.” He carded a hand through blond locks. “Look. A few years ago, I never even dreamed I’d ever have you, let alone the chance to make a family with you. So, no matter how it happened, I definitely don’t need a plan to know I want this. Don’t you?”

“More than anything.” Tai confirmed, ducking his head. “In fact I… couldn’t help but think this was a do over. That this time I’d get to raise a child without interruption from, well, anything.”

Sorrow skimmed over their connection, almost unnoticeable. Old hurts from broken hearts and cruel injustices, things that had healed with time but never forgotten in how they hurt.

Qrow pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring, “Third time’s the charm?”

“Heh, guess it is. Though,” His expression turned teasing, “Aren’t you a bit of a bad luck charm, Mr. Crow?”

He groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest of the couch. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Tai pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “That’s the crime of loving me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, lock me up and throw away the key.” He declared like the delinquent he was.

“And you say I have bad jokes.”

“You do. I, on the other hand,” He said, gesturing grandly, “am an artiste.”

Tai’s chuckles were a victory all on their own.

But the reward was in the kiss that followed, devotion intertwining through the bond.

Qrow tilted his head, giving back as much as he was given. His left hand clenched onto the back of Tai’s shirt, where just underneath rested the colorful tapestry that once was the symbol of a new start. Now, it lay with his right hand’s caress to the side of Tai’s belly where their child was steadily and surely growing.

A new beginning that they’d embrace together.