#also several people got struck by lighting from that wink alone

[br3adtoasty]

some of the god designs i did over on instagram

[elvish-sky]

All You Had Ever Dreamed {Fili x Reader}

A.N: So this could have gone in several directions but my brain went this way, so I hope that’s alright! Also, I think I got all the pregnancy stuff right but I’m 15 so I’m sorry if it’s inaccurate. And yes, this was supposed to be short. My bad. But I actually honestly love this fic it may be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, thank you so much for requesting it!

Requested by @lonikje on Tumblr as part of my 450 Sleepover:

Word Count: 2,019

Pairings: Fili x Reader, mentioned Bilbo x Thorin

Summary: You faint during a training session with Kili and Dwalin.

Warnings: Fluff, mention of Menstruation, Pregnancy

**** All You Had Ever Dreamed

Whirling around, you ducked Kíli’s sword and jumped out of the way of Dwalin’s ax. You struck at Kili, feeling the block he delivered reverberate down your arm, and with one of your daggers locked together with Kili’s sword used the other to deflect another blow from Dwalin. Struggling with both of them, you disengaged and backed up, watching them regroup as you did the same. It was one of the rare days where instead of going too easy on you, Dwalin had decided that you were up for a challenge. 

Eight months after the Battle of the Five Armies, Erebor was thriving. Thorin had been gravely wounded but pulled through, and although Fíli and Kíli’s injuries were less gruesome they were still worrying, but now everyone was back on their feet and healthier than ever. Bilbo had stayed in Erebor, much to the delight of both the company and the men and elves who thought, correctly, that the hobbit would be much easier to negotiate with than the dwarves. You had also noticed some romantic tension between the hobbit and the king but had decided not to bring it up. You stuck to speculating with your husband and his brother. 

That was right. Fíli was your husband, having done a spectacularly over-the-top proposal the second he was back on his feet. You had laughed your head off to see the throne room covered in flowers when you walked in and then started sobbing with joy when you saw your dwarf bent on one knee. And then you were laughing through the tears as, after you accepted, the company appeared from the shadows to give you congratulations and Thorin had had a fancy flower crown entwined in his hair. You suspected Bilbo, and his wink confirmed it. 

You had gotten married three months later, at a ceremony attended by not only almost every dwarf in Erebor but also Kings Bard and Thranduil. It wasn’t every day that the Heir of Erebor got married, after all, and Thorin had spared no expense to make it the best celebration possible. And after the disaster that was Thorin and Bilbo’s wedding, at which Fili and Kili had gotten drunk to liven things up and almost destroyed the cake Bilbo had spent hours working on for his husband, Thorin had taken every precaution to ensure your day went off without a hitch. And somehow it had, the ceremony had taken place outside, in one of Erebor’s few outdoor courtyards. The sun had shone down on the whole gathering, the moon coming out in the night, and you thought there had never been, or ever could be such a perfect day. 

Anyway, you were currently trying not to get eviscerated by the two dwarven warriors (which wasn’t technically possible, given the fact that you were using blunt weapons, but you wouldn’t put it past Dwalin. That dwarf was strong). Twin daggers clutched, you slashed at Kíli before running up the wall and flipping over his head, unsteadily landing behind him with a dagger at his throat.

You let out a breath of satisfaction, but your dagger was suddenly knocked from your hand, Dwalin barreling towards you with his hand still extended from the throw. Leaping out of the way, your breathing grew heavier as you were driven back by the two dwarves, their efforts renewed. Your head started to feel light, sort of fuzzy, and you kept backing up, blocks growing weaker. As everything faded to black and you collapsed, the last thing you heard was Kíli.

“Fíli’s going to kill me.”

You opened your eyes, everything hazy until you blinked it into focus. You were in a large room, sunlight streaming in through the windows to highlight- was that Kíli standing above you?

“Y/N!” Kíli brushed your hair back from your forehead, looking concerned. “You fainted, are you alright?”

“What are you doing here?”

He pouted. “That’s not exactly the wake-up greeting I was expecting. And didn’t you hear what I said? You fainted in the middle of training. I carried you up to Oin, you’re in the healers’ rooms right now.”

Ahh. Well, that explained why the room was so much bigger than yours, and why there were chairs arranged around the bed you were in. 

“Thank you, Kíli. Do you know where Fíli is?”

“I think they sent for him a few minutes ago, you’ve only been out for about ten. He should be here-”

Kíli was cut off by Fíli shoving him away from your bed.

“Y/N!” The golden-haired dwarf exclaimed. “What happened? Are you alright? Why is Kíli here, and why is he touching your face?”

The dark-haired dwarf stood with a smirk. “I’ll just leave you two alone now,” he said and slipped out the door with a smirk.

“Fíli! Don’t be rude! Kíli was taking care of me!” Then realization dawned.

“Is somebody jealous?” You asked with a teasing smile. 

Fíli blushed. 

“Fíli! You shouldn’t be jealous of Kíli! First of all, it’s Kíli. If I fall in love with him, please make sure I haven’t hit my head, he’s basically my little brother. And secondly, I’ll never love anyone but you, you don’t have to worry about that.”

He smiled at you sheepishly. “I know. I was just worried, and-”

“I know,” you cut him off, grinning.

“Ah, look! It’s Oin!” You waved to the healer as he bustled in, arms full of herbs and vials. 

“Ah, Oin. What is wrong with Y/N?” Your husband inquired, the worried look on his face almost comical. 

“Well, it could be several things. Have you been eating enough?” The healer inquired about this while mixing up a tincture.

“Yes.”

“Sleeping regularly?”

Fíli nodded to answer this question. 

“How about water? Have you been drinking enough?”

“Weelllll…” you trailed off sheepishly. “I’m not the best at remembering to drink water.”

“When did you last have a glass today?” The healer was now looking a little worried.

You cast around in your memory. “I had a glass at breakfast, but I haven’t had any more today.”

“WHAT?! YOU HAVEN’T HAD ANYTHING TO DRINK SINCE BREAKFAST?!!! IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON!” Fili was furious. Oin was nodding in agreement as well.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed. “I’ve just been so busy lately, and I’ve been aching so it’s more trouble than it’s worth to go all the way down to the kitchens.”

“Aching, you say?”

When you nodded, Oin came to your bedside. 

“When was your last monthly bleeding?”

Fili blushed at this, and you swatted him before counting in your head.

OH.

“It’s been almost three months. We’ve been so busy I didn’t even notice!”

“Then that’s it. You fainted not only because of dehydration, which you’ll need to be much better at but also because you’re pregnant.”

“Wait. What?” Fili looked shocked. 

Oin smiled at you, leaving the room.

Fili gazed down at you. “Are you really pregnant?”

You nodded. “I am. I hadn’t noticed the signs before but now that I know it’s blindingly obvious. We’re going to have a baby.” 

He lifted you from the bed, spinning you around in joy before suddenly stopping. 

“That can’t be good for the baby.”

You laughed. “It’s fine, Fili! I’m fine. And we’re going to be parents.”

He smiled, kissing you.

Later that day, you sat with the Company and Thorin’s sister, Dis, now your mother-in-law, in the rooms of the royal family where you all often ate. Sitting at the table, which had been built specifically for the group of sixteen, Fili kept refilling your water glass every thirty seconds. You made sure to drink enough, now that your body was supporting two. Fili glanced at you, and you realized the table had hushed, you hadn’t noticed the sound of Fili’s spoon against his glass gathering everyone’s attention.

He stood, taking your hand and pulling you up to stand next to him. “We have an announcement.”

Everyone was staring at you both expectantly, and Fili nodded at you to continue.

Smiling, you spoke. “I’m pregnant.”

“We’re going to have a baby!” Fili exclaimed. 

The table erupted in cheers and well-wishes. 

“So that’s why you fainted earlier!” 

You silently cursed Kili, knowing that now the overprotective side of the dwarves would emerge full force. And it did, Thorin started listing everything he needed to be done for you before Dis shushed him. The king then walked up to you, arms open, and hugged you.

“Congratulations, Y/N.” 

He then moved on, slapping Fili on the back before stepping back to allow the rest of the company to give their congratulations as well. 

Oin winked at you as he hugged you, and said, “I would never spoil your surprise.” The rest of the group gave out hugs and congratulations to you and Fili, and you glowed with happiness, knowing there were few people better than these for your child to grow up with. Finally, Kili stepped forward. 

“I’m going to have a niece or a nephew! Congratulations, Y/N, you’re going to be a great mother.” He then mock-whispered, “but I’d watch out around Fili. I’m not sure he’ll do as well.” 

Fili punched his brother before grabbing him in another hug, their words whispered too softly for anyone else to hear.

Lastly, Dis came forward, wrapping you in a warm, motherly embrace. “My son is right, Y/N. You will be a wonderful mother. And, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to come to me. Mahal knows I have the experience.”

You thanked her, smiling before she ushered you and Fili out the door. “Now go to bed. It’s late, and you need your rest.” She closed the door behind you, your last glimpse a room of smiling faces.

Back in the rooms that you shared with your husband, you crawled into bed, hair loose, in your favorite nightgown. Fili motioned for you to move closer, so you did, resting your head on his chest as his arm snaked around your shoulders, hand coming to rest on top of yours, where you were unconsciously cradling your belly. He began to sing, a tune that you recognized from the beginning of your quest, so long ago.

“Far over, the Misty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep, and caverns old.” Fili’s voice wove the song masterfully, and you were taken back to the first time you had met him, almost two years before.

You had stepped into a hobbit-hole of calm, and hearing the sound of voices walked through, careful not to hit your head until you came upon a room of singing dwarves. 

You paused in the doorway, letting their song wash over you. 

“The fire was red, it flaming spread.

The trees like torches blazed with light.”

They finished, and you stepped into the room. All the heads immediately turned towards you. 

“Who are you?” A golden-haired dwarf looked suspicious.

You drew breath to answer, but before you could Gandalf stepped into the room.

“This is Y/N. She will be joining us on our quest.”

The dark-haired dwarf by the fire that looked rather grumpy made as if to protest, but a glare from Gandalf stopped him. The other dwarves quickly introduced themselves, and the golden-haired one stepped up last.

“Y/N, huh?”

You nodded.

“I’m Fili.”

Now, almost two years later, you were in the reclaimed mountain they had sung of, lying in bed with the golden-haired dwarf who had originally been so suspicious of you.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Fili said with a look of wonder, and you smiled at the tears of joy starting to roll down his face. 

“We are.”

You kissed him, so alight with the happiness you thought you could burst, before breaking away and laying your head back on his chest. Laying there, you could hear his heartbeat, beating almost in time with your own. You couldn’t wait until the third would join them. With your husband next to you, and a baby growing inside, you finally had all you had ever dreamed of. And it was perfect.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 7 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Sunday lunch with the nightcrew bois, what secrets will come out?

Warnings: Emotional abuse

W/C: 1.9k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 8

The sun was too fucking bright. You groaned and rolled over, mouth dry and head pounding. Your phone told you it was almost eleven, which meant you only had an hour to get ready. That was okay, though. You weren’t exactly dressing to impress. It was only Manny and Frankie . . . Frankie.With a wince, you remembered your conversation with him last night. Had it been painfully obvious that you were talking about yourself? Surely not, if he was drunk too. But as you showered, you thought about what he said, and realised that he was right. At least, he was right about what you could remember him saying. Leaving Kurt wouldn’t mean you would be alone and unloved. You had Manny and Sara; you knew they loved you. But that didn’t change that if you left, you’d have nowhere to go. You had never been the type of person to ask for handouts, especially sympathy handouts. There was just too much to think about.

A text from your phone from Sara told you as much as you needed to know about her night went.

Manifestation WORKS 😉 sent 8:34AM

You spent a few extra minutes washing your face, enjoying the feel of cool water on your skin. Flecks of makeup that you had slept in swirled down the drain, grey and black and blue. Tiny bits of glitter glinted on your cheeks, reminding you of days past when you would drown yourself in glitter to go out clubbing. The memory made you smile, remembering how carefree and happy you were just a few years ago.

Grabbing your darkest pair of sunglasses, you were ready to go. You hadn’t bothered with styling your hair beyond running a quick brush through, and your face was devoid of makeup aside from any remnants left from last night.

It was a quick walk to the bistro, your stomach roiling the entire time. You knew it was food you needed; you had already thrown up several times last night after arriving home. The thought of filling your stomach spurred you on, your feet moving slightly faster. You whipped out your phone to text Manny.

Get. Bread. Please.

There were a few unread messages from Kurt. You knew that avoiding him was immature and would only come back to bite you on the ass when he came home, but the thought of opening them and actually reading them made you feel ill. And he would know when you opened them; he complained whenever you turned your read receipts off. So, you kept them on, to keep the peace, and just avoided opening his messages until you were ready to deal with them.

The bistro came into view, and you saw Manny already sitting at your usual table on the outside terrace. You sat down gingerly next to him and flashed him a weak smile.

“You look terrible,” he said gleefully, pushing a basket of bread and butter your way. You grabbed a small roll and broke it open, inhaling the warm scent.

“I feelterrible,” you told him. “Hangovers don’t suit me.”

Manny laughed ruffled your hair. You groaned loudly, swatting his hand away, which only made him laugh harder.

“Lover, I’ve never seen you in this kind of state before, let me tease you a little,” he said. You flipped him off and ate another roll.

“Is Frankie here yet?” You asked, trying to keep the hope out of your voice. Judging by the look on Manny’s face, you had failed miserably.

“Crushing on the cook, are we?” He waggled his brows.

“No! Of course not!” You said quickly. Liar a tiny voice whispered in your ear. “I was just wondering if he got the right place.”

“Well, wonder no longer, that’s him isn’t it?”

From your spot on the terrace, you could see the familiar figure walking down the shady street to the bistro. Your palms dampened with sweat at the sight of him.

“Francisco!” Manny called, waving him over. Frankie broke into a half jog, raising his arm in a wave. You sunk slightly in your seat, praying that he wouldn’t bring up your conversation with him last night.

“How’s your hangover treating you?” Frankie asked, taking a seat at the table.

“Fucking terribly,” you said, “this is not at all what I was promised last night when I did my fourth shot.” Manny snorted and turned to the waitress who had appeared at your table.

“Good afternoon, dearest Andrea,” Manny said.

“Manny, hun, you know I hate when you use my full name,” Andi, as she preferred to be called, said. You liked Andi, she a couple years younger than you and working her way through a master’s in engineering. “What are we all having today?”

“My usual, please,” Manny said.

“The greasiest thing on the menu for me, I don’t care what it is,” you said. Andy smiled at you in sympathy, knowing the tell-tale signs of a hangover. She then turned to Frankie.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before,” she said, her voice suddenly an octave higher.

“Francisco, or Frankie if you like,” he said. “Can I have the alfredo?”

“Of course, Frankie, anything else I can get for you?”

You and Manny glanced at each other, Manny with his eyebrow slightly raised. You knew Andi was a flirt, you’d seen her flirt with customers dozens of times, but something about this felt different. Personal. You chewed the inside of your lip, hoping your annoyance didn’t show too plainly on your face.

“So, what didyou do last night, lover?” Manny turned to you once Andi left.

“Drank too much,” you said. “Kurt’s out of town and Sara’s in town so I . . . I could go out. And I saw Frankie and his friends out.”

“Are your friends all as gorgeous as you?” Manny asked, turning to Frankie who blushed deeply.

“I wouldn’t say I’m gorgeous,” he mumbled, adjusting his cap slightly. “I’m just average.”

“Gorgeous and humble,” Manny said, “your partner is a lucky person.”

“I’m not- I uh don’t- I’m not with anyone,” it dawned on you that Frankie was terrible at taking compliments.

“Maybe it’s my personal bias, but out of all his friends, Frankie is truly the most attractive of them,” you said. You knew this could lead to something dangerous, but the chance to see Frankie flustered was just too good to miss.

“Yo-you do?” he asked, turning an even deeper shade of red. You nodded seriously.

“Whoever you date in future is going to be very lucky,” Manny said. Then, never one to linger on a topic for too long, Manny took a sip of his water and declared that it was feelings time.

“Feelings time?” Frankie sounded uncertain.

“Well, neither of us can afford therapy, so we use each other as therapists,” Manny explained. “We started it when I was working at Lou’s, and it’s been so long since I’ve had a good feelings time. Of course, you don’t have to participate if you don’t want to, and if you do want, keep it as light or as heavy as your heart tells you. Consent is key.”

Frankie nodded, obviously still unsure of the whole situation. It struck you then how strange you and Manny would seem to an outsider. Andi returned with food for the three of you, placing down the biggest burger you had laid eyes on in front of you.

“Enjoy,” she said with a wink to Frankie. “Come find me personally if you’re not satisfied.”

You could’ve thrown up at the blatant flirting. What made it worse was Frankie seemed to be enjoying it, smiling up at Andi.

“I’ll start,” Manny said, once Andi was gone again. “I’m feeling overwhelmed recently with my new job and the house renovations James and I are undertaking. We had a big fight over fucking tiles last night, and I know we wouldn’t have if I could just be decisive.”

“Does James know how you’re feeling?” You asked. Manny shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’d normally tell him about it in a heartbeat, but he’s been stressed too, and I don’t want to add to it.”

“He’s your husband, right?” Frankie asked and Manny nodded. You glanced at him in surprise. “Husbands should support each other. You usually feel supported by him, right? So why is now any different? His stress is your stress, yours is his. That’s what you signed up for when you got married.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell him what’s going on with you,” you said, realising how ironic that was coming from you.

Manny looked thoughtful as he cut into his vegetable stack. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. Now your turn, lover.” You groaned. Feelings time was fine when you were listening to other people, and when the feelings you had weren’t so messy. But you could filter your feelings, and you trusted the two men you sat with.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m feeling like I want to end my relationship. I feel like I’m fucking miserable, but I also feel like I’m trapped. Frankie, you remember that friend I told you about last night? It’s actually me.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious, but I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable by saying that.”

“Oh, my god,” you rubbed your face. “Right. So, like I said, I want to break up with Kurt, but it’s not easy to do.” You waited for one of them to interrupt you, when they didn’t, you went on. “For one, I don’t have enough money to move out. I don’t have much in savings at all because I keep needing to dig into it when he’s short on rent or money for bills or whatever. I don’t love him anymore, I don’t even know if I like him. Also, he said hedkillhimselfifieverleft.”

“Excuse me, he said what?” Manny leant forward, rage curdling his usually placid face. Frankie too, looked furious.

“He said he would kill himself if I ever left,” your voice was small. “I tried, one time, and-and he sent me a video of him tying a noose to a ceiling fan telling me it was my fault he was doing that. So, I went back, because I don’t want his death on my hands.” You realised with growing humiliation that you were crying.

Manny reached across the table and took your hand, holding it gently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to bother anyone,” you said, “it was my problem to deal with.”

“When does he come back?” Frankie asked quietly.

“Tomorrow,” you said. Manny and Frankie exchanged a look and Manny nodded.

“If you let us,” Manny said carefully, “we’re gonna help you get out. We won’t force you into anything, but we want to help.”

“Wait,” you sat back, confused, “wait. Have you too been conspiring behind my back? How? When?”

“No, not til this morning. I gave Frankie my number when I first met him, in case he had any questions. Then he messaged me this morning, and we got to talking about how we can help you.”

“If you want our help,” Frankie said. Part of you felt like you should’ve been angry, but you couldn’t be. Instead, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, with love. You grabbed a napkin and dabbed at your eyes under your sunglasses.

“I think I want help,” you said finally. You knew you couldn’t do this without help, even though it embarrassed you to admit that. Frankie nodded, satisfied.

“Alright, we need to make a plan.”

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209

[bellygunnr]

Blown Lightbulb

A commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman featuring Thomas Lasky/Sarah Palmer. 

---

The house is cold. It hasn’t changed at all since you’ve last been here, some twenty odd years ago. You hadn’t been a kid then-- just a pilot, home on leave despite not really wanting to be. It had been tense then. It was the same now, even if your mother wasn’t even here, and you were laying bare the contents of your past to the two people you loved the most and considered the most important in your life. You hesitate to look at them, not quite fearful of what they’re thinking but definitely reluctant, like any of this is your fault and something to be ashamed of.

You know no one can really blame you for wanting some modicum of closure, but you’ve always been conscious of starting losing battles. Your mother isn’t even here, for one. A toneless holo-message is all she’s left you, detailing that an emergency at work brought her in and she’ll be back sometime in the evening. Maybe you and your colleagues could meet her at this location, even, and upon further investigation, that location is a startling high-profile restaurant of considerable Martian renown.

So much for flying close to the surface. You’d be in the air for all to see, just for a chance to reconcile with what little remains of your family. But that wasn’t for several hours yet, so you content yourself with poking around the giant empty house and listening to Sarah and Roland banter between each other.

“No offense, but this feels kind of like a museum exhibit,” Sarah says. “It’s not even dusty. I’d prefer it if it was.”

“You’d prefer it? There are stock photos of kids up here-- unless the Lasky family is way bigger than records suggest,” Roland answers.

You look at the picture frames Roland is pointing out. Amid the pictures of your brother Cadmon, there are photos of a foreign family, conspicuously only featuring a father figure. You run your fingers through your hair, nostrils flaring with a barely-restrained sigh.

“We didn’t take many family pictures,” you say, as if that explains anything. “I’m going to check out the upstairs.”

You tug on the back of your head, pulling at the recently shaved strands in a fit of anxiety. You don’t want to go upstairs. You’re afraid of what you’ll find there. Cadmon’s room was practically a shrine twenty years ago. The stairs don’t even creak as you step up them and you’re not sure why you expect them to. They look and feel and sound like wood, but you know them to be special composites that just didn’t degrade.

Your grip lingers on the railing as you take the final step. The door you know that leads to your mother’s room is closed. The keypad lock to it is bright red. You wonder if the keycode has changed at all, but testing it probably isn’t worth the risk. Across from her room is Cadmon’s, but that door is also, as you expected, closed.

And the one you recognize as your own is ajar. You let your hand find Sarah’s, squeezing it so tightly that she squeezes back, thumb rolling over your knuckles in a decidingly tender way.

“You know you don’t have to do this, Tom,” she says gently.

“But I want to,” you say. “I know I don’t need to.”

“Well, that’s something.”

It is. You offer her a braver smile than you feel and let her follow you to your room. There are more picture frames up here, covering the walls in even intervals. You can only ignore them because you know Roland is looking at them. You nudge open the door with your foot and, again, hesitate at the threshold.

Was everything in this house going to be difficult?

You shut your eyes and take in a shuddering breath. You can feel Sarah at your back, her presence radiating warmth. If you wobble, you feel her sturdy body against yours, so you let yourself lean into the partial embrace of her arms. She squeezes your shoulders, just as ice trickles down your spine.

Roland’s presence bleeds into your mind like condensation forming on the outside of a glass. It’s not enough for his thoughts or feelings to be tangible, but it’s so distinctly him that you smile and relax, easing the tension in your balled-up fists and opening your eyes. The room ahead is dark, but all you need to do is step inside for the lights to wake up and--

It’s not exactly the same as you left it, but it’s close. Your eyes roam the room, picking out all the various effects of teenaged you. There are posters on the wall, though some of the pixels have gone dark in their paper-thin construction, and models on the shelves, thick with dust. Your bed is perfectly made, the pillows hidden beneath a dark red blanket. Inevitably, your eyes roam over to a box bolted seamlessly into the wall, just above your nightstand. 

“Ah,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I see.”

“Is that…?” Sarah starts, but trails off, uncertain.

You can feel Roland’s curiosity curling up in the back of your mind. If you strain, you can even see his glittery-gold essence creeping out toward the box, but that gives you a migraine the harder you try.

You open your mouth to try and explain what it is, despite what it is being obvious. It’s a physical control panel for a domestic-grade Dumb AI. His name is still plainly depicted in the form of colorful stickers-- Admiral Hart. He hadn’t been active last time, but he hadn’t been gone either, so at least the sick hope flickering in your belly isn’t fully misplaced.

Still, is it worth trying to activate him?

“Roland,” you say, feeling quite outside yourself. “You can investigate it, if you want. Um, if he’s in there, could you…?”

“Of course, Captain,” Roland says.

Roland’s projection hovers in mid-air, thrown there by the custom commpad he was currently residing in. He smiles brilliantly at you and Sarah before bringing up what must be the digital counterpart of the control panel, his gestures as grandiose as ever, his expression just visible behind the transparent boxes. You hate it, but you distract yourself by leaning into Sarah’s space and kissing the bottom of her chin, staying there until Roland pipes up again.

“He’s in there, Captain. Says here he hasn’t been activated since… 2549. Very long service life, this one.”

Oh, that wasn’t too bad. Still, nearly ten years, completely shut down.

“...I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet,” you say in one long rush of breath, the realization making you feel ill. “I do miss him, though.”

“There are also several other AI matrices in here,” Roland adds. “Why so many, if I may ask?”

“They were my teachers, when I was doing homeschooling. I’m surprised they’re still here.”

Dumb AI were very limited in their fixed personalities, but you swear they’re more sentient than they let on. One didn’t befriend several all at once and not experience some inexplicable variances, but dwelling on it was starting to make you feel hot behind the eyes. You shake your head, exasperated.

“Sorry, this is-- a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah says lightly. “Want to go back downstairs?”

“Mind if I hang out in your house’s network for a little while?” Roland asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

“Go for it,” you say with a smile.

Roland winks and smiles before gathering up the tendrils of himself, more visible now that he was letting his essence ooze out between commpad, neural interfaces, and nearby network ports. Smart AI were remarkably fluid, or even gaseous, automatically filling in the void spaces around them, not because they wanted to be big as possible-- they were just that big. Still, you rub the back of your neck the same time as Sarah does, acutely conscious of the absence.

“Downstairs, then,” Sarah says. “Think there’s anything in the fridge?”

“I have no idea. Are you hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday. To keep the motion sickness down, you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Her moving ahead of you prevents you from lingering too long upstairs, anxious as you are to keep up with her long strides. You have no idea where either of you are going to get clothes nice enough to go to a restaurant. Neither of you are dressed for it, let alone packed. Roland had suggested dressing as casually as possible to take the edge off, and well, maybe that was going to backfire. 

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Sarah says.

She’s in your space the second you leave the stairs. But it’s gentle and unintrusive despite her taking up your whole line of sight. She’s teasing you, even as her brow is bent in concern.

“What am I thinking too hard about?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Something about your mom, like that stupid message she left us. Seriously, talk about a neutral location.” 

You laugh before you can stop yourself. 

“Got it in one,” you say. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Guess poor mother Lasky is going to have to come home after all,” Sarah says. “Isn’t that sad?”

She bumps your hip with the back of her fist, a playful nudge that, surprisingly, doesn’t send you stumbling. You punch her shoulder in return, silently following her into the next room, where the kitchen is. You watch Sarah go for the fridge and open it, head disappearing inside to scope out the contents. She retreats a moment later to throw something green and limp into your arms.

You catch it more out of surprise than anything, but you feel nauseous just holding it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nutritional smoothie paste!” Sarah says, like she’s struck gold. “Used to eat this shit when I was a baby Spartan. They put it in Mjolnir on long-haul ops.”

“And that’s…. Is it good?” You ask, instantly skeptical.

“Hell, no. But I’m too polite to eat the meal plan stuff she has in there. So, drink up.”

Well, you couldn’t fault her there. You set the plastic tube of paste down on the faux-granite countertop, deciding that you’d rather let Sarah just drink both of them. You can’t stifle a smile as she immediately scoops it up, tearing open both of them at once and drinking them down in a truly disgusting fashion. But she doesn’t spill a drop, so... 

“I see you’ve gotten better at that,” you say.

“Roland made me promise not to make a mess if I’m going to be carrying the commpad,” she admits, looking exasperated for all of a split-second. “So.”

She tosses the spent bags onto the countertop, despite the trash can being directly underhand. You shrug that off in favor of grabbing her by the collar of her tank top and pulling her down, kissing her flat on the mouth. Her answering hum is felt in your bones and you both relax into each other, your anxious tension sapped by her solid core. She curls an arm around your waist and holds you in place, like she’s been waiting to do that.

“Relax a little,” she murmurs. “We can worry about her when she gets here.”

Not you, we. You feel a little weak in the knees at the distinction and let yourself hang onto her arms, certain that you’re looking at her with a dopey smile.

“But we probably shouldn’t do this in the kitchen,” she adds.

Before you can pull away, Sarah effortlessly hauls you into her arms, supporting you by grabbing a fistful of your ass and waiting until you wrap your arms around her neck. She squeezes your rear a couple times before moving, gait so smooth that you don’t even feel it when she turns on her heel to dump you on the couch with a flourish. 

You sink into the couch cushions, but wrap your arms around hers so that you don’t disappear completely. Her face is so close to yours that you count each individual scar and freckles, including the faint lines of surgical augmentations that only show up in the right light. You snake your hand up to the back of her neck, mindful not to grab ahold of the enlarged neural implant.

“Anyone ever told you you’re handsome, Tom?” Sarah murmurs.

“Mmm, I can think of a few…”

Her laughter is felt on your skin as warm puffs. She kisses you, her lips rough with bitten and half-healed skin that you nip at, chasing them when she tries to pull away. The plasticine fabric squeaks as she carefully, carefully lowers her weight over yours and straddles you, her thighs big enough to keep you in place. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will,” you promise.

You want to say that you know she won’t, but she always looks so earnest when she asks that this time, you don’t. Because she has before-- there’s a biological differential between the two of you that you never stop thinking about. You work your hand further up to pull her hair out of its ponytail, working your fingers into the coarse locks and kissing her more intently, eyes fluttering shut. I love you, you want to say. I trust you, which is just as hard.

Her hands roam across your shirt and pluck open several buttons so that she can follow the edge of your collarbone and the slope of your shoulders. Her warm, slightly sweaty palms are a sharp contrast to the cool air, and the shock of physical contact has goosebumps lifting on your arms. You lick at her lips and fist some of her hair, mumbling indistinctly as you pull her down closer.

There’s no smart quip or knowing look to make light of your neediness. She finally lets her weight drop onto your lap completely and the kiss moves on, her teeth and lips tracking across the edge of your jaw to just underneath your ear. Instead of letting your hands hover, you start to follow the hard curves of her body, groping at the bunching muscles and admiring the power coiled there. 

Then she snaps into rigid attention, face turned toward the front door, her lips drawn back in a snarl. You vaguely notice that she has a chipped tooth before you hear the door opening and Sarah is still poised over you and she’s kissing you again, hard, and you kind of moan into it--

“Well, then,” an all-too-familiar voice says. “Thomas, care to… introduce me?”

Finally, Sarah climbs off of you, but not before buttoning your shirt and kissing your forehead. Your brain already hurts from the mental whiplash of the situation.

“Um, mother,” you start. “This is Sarah Palmer. My partner.”

Your mother is shorter than you remember. Her hair, once a brownish-black, is in faded tones and grey at the roots. A scar that wasn’t there twenty years ago lurks just by her eye and she looks exhausted. Stress and worry lines make canyons of her face, ones that twist your heart to look at.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sarah says stiffly.

She does not look amused. She doesn’t look much of anything except terribly stern and suspicious of the scene before her. You almost can’t blame her. Almost.

“You know, I was hoping you’d be here when we got here,” you say. “But it seems you’re still working.”

“Of course. Duty still calls, you know.”

You watch her as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack in the anteroom. Both nothing and everything has changed about her and it makes something in your throat tighten.

“Oh, I know that more than anybody,” you breathe. “Yeah.”

“I do appreciate you coming home, Tom,” Audrey says, not looking at you. “It means a lot. I thought I’d have to see you when the Infinity opened her doors to the public. That is still happening-- right?”

“Sure, it’s happening,” Sarah says. “Look, Tom, do you want me to…?”

You shake your head.

“Yes, but I won’t be back on Mars until then. Working nonstop has its benefits-- like a lot of vacation time.”

“That sounds like a dream, to be able to use it,” Audrey replies calmly. “I need to know if we’re having dinner tonight.”

You and Sarah share a look.

“I was thinking we could share a bottle of wine and shoot the shit instead,” Sarah says. “Or some scotch, if you have it.”

At that, Audrey looks amused.

“I never took you for a scotch man, Tom,” Audrey chuckles.

You don’t say anything as she leaves the room, no doubt seeking out the desired glasses and alcohol. The sun is going down outside, plunging the room in a deep red. This was going better than expected. You want to break open the window and run. You want to do anything but sit back down and draw out the table and sit in a semi-circle and “shoot the shit.” But you’re already sitting down and the bottle is open and you haven’t ate anything-- neither has Sarah, even, but with her augmentations drinking on an empty stomach is probably beneficial and--

“Good news, everybody! I took the liberty of ordering us some, what do you humans call it? Party food? You know, for all the drinking we’re about to do. You’re welcome!”

You choke on your own spit and your mother nearly drops the glass she’s pouring. Sarah, for her part, is taking the bottle and stealing a sip directly, if only to conceal a smug smile.

Roland is hovering inches above the faux-wooden table, drawn up to his full height with chest puffed out and expression gleeful. He flicks one hand out in a casual salute toward Audrey before trotting aside and sitting down, legs crossed.

“Cheers,” he says.

“Hi, Roland,” Sarah greets.

You had completely forgotten about Roland. Oops.

“Thomas, I do hate to ask,” Audrey says, peering down at Roland with a pinched expression, “but why is there an AI?”

“Oh, you know,” you say vaguely, waving a hand. “It’s classified.”

“I’m Captain Lasky’s boss,” Roland says, grinning. “So I’m allowed to be here, you see.”

“Are you my boss, Roland?” Sarah asks.

“No, ma’am.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shoot up. She takes a sip from her glass, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m Audrey Lasky,” she says finally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night goes painfully.

[venusandromedadjarin]

Darling

Alive, part two

18+, soft!Poe if you squint, drinking, fluff, dom!Poe, smut... a whole lot of smut, light bondage, edging, begging... Poe is just a hot husband and his wife pissed him off so now it’s payback time, 3.5k words

The cantina erupts in shouts and whoops the minute the two of you step inside, Poe's hand wrapped tightly around yours as he flashes his dazzling smile. You feel the heaviness in your chest lighten marginally as you see everyone you took off with from the base this morning, all of them smiling at the two of you. General Organa’s words echo in your mind, no one was lost today. She was right, and you hadn’t even let that sink in until now. No one’s picture was added to the wall today, and you glance at it, the heaviness lightening a bit more when you see the number of frames hasn’t changed. Poe squeezes your hand, and you glance up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Red-Ten’s voice booms over the room as he lifts a bottle above the crowd, “To the Damerons!” 

You can feel Poe’s chuckle as his shoulder’s shake with it, his hand tightening as he surges forward. People clap their hands to your backs, throwing out compliments about your flying and his leadership. When you see Red-Six, you break away from him to hug her tightly. She returns the hug, nodding as you thank her for saving your life today.

“Just doing my job, Sergeant.”

You slap her shoulder, “Don’t Sergeant me, Numa. We’re drinking tonight, come on.” You clamber up on a stool, stepping onto the bar and reach a hand down to her. Taking it, she follows you, throwing her head back to laugh, her Lekku swaying with the movement. Poe’s eyes find yours from below, and they shimmer in the low light as he watches you live. Something he hasn’t seen in a long time, and it suddenly strikes him, too, that everyone came back today. 

General Organa strolls into the room and crosses her arms when she sees the two of you on the bar, both of you stilling as the bar grows quiet, waiting for her to say something. She slowly shakes her head, a grin spreading on her face as she comes through the crowd and announces, “Orson, first round is on me. The squadron deserves it. Congratulations on a successful day.” 

The whooping that breaks out is so loud it drowns out her words as she slaps Poe on the back, Finn laughing beside him at whatever she says. You see her nod towards you before quietly exiting as the shots begin to be passed around. Two of Orson’s six large, green hands reach up to give you and Numa the small glasses, filled with clear alcohol. Once everyone has one, you wink towards her and lift yours up, “To the Rebel Scum!” 

No one misses a beat as they echo you, laughter ringing out once everyone has downed the liquid. It burns down your throat and you grimace, swiping your lips with the back of your hand. 

The evening goes on like that more or less, rounds of shots being passed out as you all eat at varying times before drinking some more. While Poe and Finn wager against some other people in a game of Sabacc, you bid Numa to cover for you as you slip out of the cantina. Technically, going outside at night is frowned upon, but you risk it and slide out the vented doors into the cool air. The base keeps the doors slatted open to improve air circulation and temperature at night, since D’Qar cools down significantly when the sun drops. The air is a welcome presence after being inside the humid bar. For a few minutes, you just stand outside the doors and look up, staring at the planets you can see in the sky. Finally, you push yourself forward towards the field that the base uses as a tarmac. The sight of your X-Wing makes you groan as you walk towards it, the sticky fire retardant still sliding down the sides of it. With hesitation, you decide to climb up the ladder, shuddering when you see the inside is full of the light colored goo. Hopping down, you walk around the ship and survey the damage. The entire left engine is gone, having blown up and all, and the left wings are severely damaged. Luckily the body and right side is mostly intact, though the canopy is cracked. It would take weeks for you to fix it, maybe less if Poe helped, which you’re sure he would. Sighing, you walk over to Poe’s X-Wing to asses his damage. It’s definitely less severe, but the right side is charred and cracked, the wings bent enough that they don’t match up properly. At the very least, it’d be easier to fix than yours. 

You climb the ladder to his cockpit before sliding down into his pilot’s chair, the canopy open so you can sit back and look at the sky. It smells like him: leather and oak mixed with a slight hint of gasoline. It’s a scent you would never grow tired of having in your senses. Looking around his cockpit, you notice a fading picture tucked under the edge of one of the control panels. You gently pull it out of the metal it’s wedged under and study it in the dim light. Smiling, you realize it’s the picture Rey took of you and Poe the day you got married. On the back, it has your’s, Rey’s and Finn's initials signed on it. You wipe a tear from your cheek, realizing how fiercely you miss your best friend, before tucking it back into its spot. 

“You’re always right here with me,” Poe’s voice makes you jump, your hand flying to your mouth as you yelp.

“Maker, you scared me,” your eyes close as you try to calm your heart beat. He just chuckles and smooths your wavy hair down, his hand gentle on the crown of your head. “What are you doing out here?”

He looks down at you, humor dancing in his dark eyes, “I’m checking on you. What are you doing out there?”

You smile and point upwards, the stars lighting up his features as he looks up. You’re struck by how handsome he is, especially with the grey hair starting to streak his dark curls. The scruffy beard he’s growing makes him look older, but in the best way possible, and his smile makes your smile grow. 

“I don’t know why General Organa ever doubted your ability to be a pilot when you first joined the Resistance, you always have belonged among the stars,” he whispers, still looking up. 

You duck out from under his hand and grasp it with your own, bringing his wrist to your lips. He lets out a low sound when you kiss the sensitive skin, your tongue darting out to taste him. “If I remember correctly, you also doubted me,” you whisper against his wrist.

Poe chuckles and looks down at you, “I never doubted you, darling. I had never met anyone as bright as you and I was terrified of how quickly this lifestyle can dim that light.”

You catch his eyes, gazing at him through your lashes, your breathing hitched. Even after being with him this long, it takes you by surprise when he speaks about you like this. You and Poe never had the luxury of a slow and sweet romance. It was frantic and intense because of the Resistance, the constant fight, the constant fear of everything good coming to an end. When you both realized you felt the same way, that was the end of it, nothing was the same. It was quick and fiery, at risk of ending before it ever got the chance to start. But at times like this, after a successful fight, after the hope of the Resistance being rekindled, you are reminded of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He’s fierce, stubborn, and rough around the edges sometimes because of his cocky nature… but underneath all of that, Poe Dameron is a romantic, kind man who had to become tough in the face of adversity. This is a man who wore his mother’s wedding ring on a chain, waiting until he could give it to his life long partner. Somehow, the Maker allowed it to be you. 

“I love you,” you whisper up to him, scared of breaking the silence too harshly by speaking. He grasps your hand in his and pulls you up gently, kissing you gently before climbing down the ladder and looking back at you.

“Let’s go home,” he smiles up at you and you nod, scrambling out of the cock pit and down to him so you can take his hand again. “I love you, too.” You squeeze his hand as the two of you begin the short walk back to the main building. 

The sweet talking is forgotten the moment the lock bolts your bedroom door closed, one of Poe’s hands palming at the key pad to dim the lights while the other is cupping the column of your throat as he kisses you. You only see two other people on the walk back, by some mercy everyone is either still getting drunk or in bed, which meant the two of you are finally, finally, alone. A soft whine escapes your lips when Poe’s other hand meets your hip, his fingers digging into you as if he’s afraid he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on for dear life. You shudder at the thought of finding your husbands fingertips bruised into your skin in the morning. He slowly pushes you back towards the bed, his tongue dipping into your mouth to twist with your own. As the back of your thighs hit the mattress, he pulls back just enough to mumble against your lips, “You drove me insane today, woman.”

Biting his bottom lip, you tug slightly before smiling against his mouth, “What are you going to do about that?” 

You bite back a groan as his large hands slides under your leather jacket, slowly pushing it off your shoulders and down your arms. His mouth works on your neck the whole time, hot and heavy against your skin as he nips and licks you. You sigh when he removes himself from you completely, blinking up at him as you watch him walk over to the desk and open the bottom drawer. Poe pulls out a belt and turns toward you, gazing at you with his brown eyes as he folds the leather into makeshift cuffs. Your pulse jumps as you watch him, heat pooling between your legs, and you fight to not press your thighs together. His voice is low when he breaks the heavy silence, rasping against his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “Lay down.”

Crawling up on the bed, you follow his instructions, waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Instead, he comes over and grasps your wrists, pulling them above your head and positioning your hands in between the headboard slats. He slides the cuffs on you, pulling on the belt to tighten it before checking to see if it’s too much. You nod up at him, and he checks the headboard, making sure it won’t move too much and hurt you. Poe steps back, watching you as your breathing picks up just by being restrained. The way he’s looking at you is almost feral, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate… and neither of you are even undressed yet. You’re vaguely aware that he can probably see your nipples hardening under your thin t-shirt as he moves to the end of the bad, slowly untying your boots and pulling them off, followed by your socks. His large hands grasp your ankles, pulling you towards him and making your arms strain against the bindings. The tension makes you worry at your bottom lip, the heat in your core intensifying. He slowly slides his hands up your legs, the callouses on his palms catching on the heavy fabric. By the time he actually reaches your waistband you’re trying not to roll your hips, searching for some sort of relief to the dull ache spreading through your body. His thick fingers quickly undo the buttons before dipping below the waist band, pausing as he looks up at you and you crane your neck, and then he’s pulling. Ripping the fabric down his legs like it might burn you if he doesn’t get it them off quick enough. He nearly chokes when he sees the lacy black underwear you’re wearing, licking his lips before he’s tearing those off you too. You lift your hips to make it easier and you shudder when the cool air hits your clit, the wetness on your thighs and pussy becoming shockingly cold, making the ache in your core even more intense. And Poe… Poe just watches as you squirm, your forearms straining as you pull at the belt. 

Finally, he starts undressing. His boots clunk as he kicks them off, his leather jacket makes a soft thud as it lands next to them. His shirt is haphazardly tossed across the room by one hand as he unbuttons his pants with the other. He strips his socks and briefs next, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You’re a wreck and he hasn’t even touched you yet. 

Finally, he’s back on the bed, kneeling between your thighs as he parts them roughly, his hands gripping your knees and pushing them apart. Your chest is heaving at this point, the fabric of your shirt sending bolts of heat down your spine as your nipples rub against it. Poe leans over you, his cock dragging across your stomach and your back arches off the bad, chasing the feeling of his tip and the pre-cum that’s glistening on it. He just smirks down at you before gently pushing your shirt up, his fingertips barely brushing your skin as he bunches the fabric until it’s halfway over your head and covering your eyes. The more you squirm, the more your arms pull at the shirt and the more it darkens your vision. You huff in frustration and he tsks, “You’ve been walking around the base all afternoon with your tits on display underneath that thin fabric?” You smile, your top teeth dragging over your lower lip as you bite it, and he groans, a low rumbling sound that is heavenly and turns you on even more. 

Then you’re yelping as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before moving on to suck a hickey into the meat of your breast. He repeats it on the other side, your back arching as you try to chase the pleasure it brings. You feel him lay down between your legs, kissing down your stomach before nipping at your hips. He hooks your knees over his shoulders and then he stills. He just lays there, his lips pursed as he blows on your clit and makes you shudder, his hands digging into your hips and holding you down so you can’t lift your them to meat his mouth. 

You’re breathless as you beg, the words coming out in between your groans because the waiting is just too much. “P-poe, please. Pl-lease do someth-thing.”

That’s all it takes.

He licks you, moaning as he drags the muscles through your folds and tastes you like he’s never tasted anything sweeter. His tongue dips in and out of you, circling your hole and making you squirm. Then he flicks it out against your clit. And you pull so hard at the belt you think you might pull a muscle in your arm, but his hands never leave your hips and you can’t chase his mouth for more of that beautiful feeling. All at once he’s sucking, sending shivers through your body as your thighs tense up and you do your best not to squeeze his head. You’re so close, teetering on that edge, the pressure coiling in your abdomen, pulling taught and tight and ready to snap-

Then he stops.

You think you must yell, or at least throw a curse word out at him, or something.

Before you can even stay mad that he brought you to the edge and refused you, his finger is inside of you and your hips come of the bed, pushing it in deeper. He curls it against the spot that makes you see fucking stars, and then he’s fucking you with it before adding a second. Curling and thrusting and sending you towards that edge again. 

Right as you start to tremble, a soft whine escaping your parted lips, he stops again, your walls fluttering around his fingers, searching for the slightest movement to send you careening off that edge. You feel tears prick at your eyes, the coiling pleasure in your abdomen raging so hot that you think you might actually cry. 

But instead of tears, you cry out as Poe simultaneously adds a third finger and sucks on your clit. Your walls clamp down around his fingers as he fucks you through it. Your eyes flutter closed underneath the blindfold, and you’re sure they roll back, as your hips jolt off the bed, chasing his mouth and that hot tongue that sends electric shocks down your spine and through your limbs. You’re trembling, definitely squeezing him in between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the coiling, tight rubber band of pleasure snaps so hard that it feels white hot. 

When you finally come down, he’s still drinking you up, lazily licking you and moaning into your folds. When he stops, he leans his head against the apex of your thigh, his facial hair tickling the already sensitive skin, as he watches his fingers slide in and out of you, shimmering with your juices. Even though you can’t see him now, you’re well aware of his fascination because he’s done this before. You gasp when he finally drags his fingers out of you fully and crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you as he pushes the t-shirt all the way up to your wrists. His tongue dips into your mouth, both of you moaning as you taste yourself on him. When he breaks away from you, you look up at him with big eyes, “Let me touch you.”

He smirks, kissing you once more before moving back between your legs and positioning his dripping cock so that the tip rubs your clit. “No,” Poe watches you as he slides his dick against your clit, making you pull at the belt and throw your head back, biting back a moan. Then he’s moving again, positioning himself before sheathing his cock in you with on thrust, his hips snapping against yours. You cry out, the pain and pleasure mixing low in your torso and coiling into the start of another orgasm. You wrap your legs around him, hooking your ankles behind his back and he palms your knees, spreading you and using your legs as support as he pounds into you. The way his hips dig into you with every thrust has you seeing stars already and you can tell by his furrowed brow and heavy breathing that he won’t last long but he reaches down to thumb at your clit anyways, pushing you towards your release again. “Cum for me.”

And you do. It overtakes you before you even have the chance to fight it, coursing through you and firing every synapse in your body at once, it overwhelms you so much that you barely make a sound as you squeeze his cock. Your eyes close and you pull at the bindings, your wrists aching under the pressure and all the while, he fucks you through it, his pace never faltering as he continues to hit that spot inside you that makes you feel like you might be on fire in the best way possible. 

He doesn’t cum until you start to come down, your walls finally letting up just enough for him to tense inside you and paint them with himself. He collapses against you, shuddering as he nips at your nipples, low groans bubbling from his throat as he finishes pumping himself into you. He shakily reaches up to loosen the belt as he pants against your chest and you immediately pull your hands out to reach for him. You rub your hands through his hair, trace your fingertips up and down the curve of his spine, knead his shoulder muscles… you do all of it, just reveling in the afterglow of orgasms and in the fact you can touch him now.

Poe finally turns his head so his cheek rests against your sternum, whispering against your skin, “Don’t get tired on me yet, darling. I’m not done with you.”

[fabricated-misslieness]

Peter Parker x gender neutral reader with powers

Powers inspired by Fetch from Infamous Second Son

(I made this moodboard earlier on in the week to keep inspiration, since I didn’t have the time to write this then. This basically describes the reader)

Part 2 here

Requested: No

Word Count: 2512

Warnings: Swearing

Everyone knew (y/n) as the star of the track team, but to certain others he was a little more than that.

To the people in your classes, you were the quiet kid, the one that the teacher always seemed to forget to call. Yet they couldn’t seem to be that angry at your luck, maybe it was your charm, or maybe it was that sweet smile of yours.

To the quiet, shyer students, you were the nice popular kid, the one that would pull bullies away from others whenever you saw a situation arise. Ironically, the bullies were usually other popular kids.

To the popular kids, you were the one that they all liked, despite not talking much. You could say one sentence in an entire conversation and it would make them grow fonder of you.

To the kids in your art class, you were the one that always had a tip for their artwork, a tip that never failed to help. You were the artistic kid who got praise from everyone and would not hesitate to praise back.

To your best friends, you were crazy, in the good way. You had a risk to try every day and a gorgeous hide-away spot hidden in plain sight. But you had the tendency to disappear without a trace, though you were always back by a day or two. As for where you went, it was a mystery. They asked, but you never gave a direct answer.

To Peter Parker, you were someone that gave him subtle hints. Hints to what, he didn’t know, but you always winked when you saw him and didn’t have the time to speak, which was rare. You usually approached him, gave him a suave greeting, and sometimes a small pick up line. Ned told him they were pick up lines, but he didn’t actually believe that they were. The constant of the confusing equation that you were, though, was your smile. It was genuine. Not pitiful, not forced, not mocking, but truly, truly genuine.

It felt nice for someone, someone who wasn’t all that close to him, to smile at him in that way. He was used to the pitiful stares from people who knew what happened to his family, the forced ones he got from people trying to act nice, the mocking ones he got from Flash and his friends when they taunted him.

But to Spider-Man, you were an enigma. He’d usually find you spray painting the side of a building. Of course, he didn’t know it was you. Your ‘disguise’, he called it a disguise but it clearly wasn’t one, was a painting mask, one that blocked toxic paint fumes, and a beanie. Really, it was that simple. 

You couldn’t blame him, though, anytime you had the small gut feeling he, or for that matter any other law-abiding citizen, was nearby, you’d bolt.

Your powers came in handy for that.

Speaking of which, he wanted to know where those powers came from, if they were tech or superpowers, if you ever had to replenish, if they consumed something like energy, if you could do something other than run faster and let the trails linger, and several other questions.

Everything you did with them left a neon red glow or  trail, sometimes you even used them for your artwork.

Anyway, what even was the crime you did for Spider-Man to come after you?

Vandalism, straight up graffiti. That was certainly a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man kinda job, huh? Helping grandmas cross the street, old hispanic ladies get directions, stopping people from loitering where they shouldn’t be… non-Avengers level stuff.

Your graffiti was mostly political/social movement stuff, but sometimes it was a way for you to express yourself.

Nobody knew about your powers, hell, you didn’t even know where they came from. That was why you never told anybody, but man was it a hard secret to hold. Your reason was that they’d push you to become a superhero, like Spider-Man. That, however, wasn’t the biggest of your fears, nor the biggest reason.

You were scared. What would they think of you?

What would they think of the real you? The ‘you’ you wanted to show them.

You sighed, looking at the artwork on the wall. You’d worked as the ideas came to your head, even with how messy it was, it looked good. You felt like it represented you.

Even with how good it felt to paint your feelings out, your recent thoughts about how your friends, or really anybody at all, would react had altered your mood.

“How does Spider-Man do it?” You muttered to yourself. How did he keep a different identity, from superhero to teenager? At least you thought he was a teenager. Every time you ran from him he’d scream for you to “come back” or “slow down”, and he’d always sounded like a teenager.

“How do I do what?” Before you could run just like the other times, he webbed your wrist to the wall, too late to realize it was fresh paint and you had your watch on.

You shrunk back, side-eyeing the artwork and struggling against your restraint, forgetting in a state of panic that you could easily break it with your powers.

Spider-Man could see the panic in your eyes, and he was quick to calm you down.

“Struggling won’t--” No, Peter, that’s not how you reassure someone. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He was relieved to see panic to falter that teeny little bit.

“I just want to make a deal.” It struck him a few seconds later how wrong that sounded. “N-Not a drug deal, or anything.” 

The panic subsided, though the uneasy feeling didn’t. You were amused at his mixup, thought you didn’t show it.

“You stop spray painting areas where you’re not allowed, and I let you go with a warning.”

You raise an eyebrow, pulling down your mask slightly so that he could hear you properly. Peter couldn’t help but think you looked a little attractive that way.

“You’ve seen the activism stuff I’ve done.” He has, and he was all for it, but it was still vandalism. “The world needs to listen, and if they can’t, they have to see.” You stuffed your hands into your pockets. You would’ve assumed that Spider-Man would be all up for it, but it seemed like he wasn’t.

“Trust me, I agree with it, it’s just that it’s illegal.” He crossed his arms as if to intimidate you but it had no effect on you.

You huff, furrowing your eyebrows. “You know that’s bull, Spider-Man.”

“Look, I love your artwork, but you have no permits.” He insisted, which was making you grow more and more agitated.

“You don’t have to be lawful good.” Peter raised his eyebrows at the DND terms, but you couldn’t see that. “These are statements for the world. And they’re—“

Spider-Man gestured towards the graffiti behind you, which was clearly not a statement.

“Alright, you got me there.“ You roll your eyes, “I can stop these, but I will not stop the important ones. I put them in those places because I need the people to see.”

Spider-Man was conflicted. On one hand, you were morally correct. On the other lawful hand, the spray painting was still illegal. He didn’t know how he should act on this.

Once again, he could clearly see you growing frustrated.

He steps forward to put a hand on your shoulder, but as his hand lands on it, your powers let out a neon red shock.

It doesn’t affect you, but it clearly affects him… and the web on your wrist.

He collapses face-first on the ground of the alleyway.

“Shit,” You kneel down next to him. “Of all the times for these stupid powers to backfire, it’s now?”

You stand up, debating on whether or not you should flee from the scene, leaving the red clad superhero on the ground.

Your moral compass was pointing to no. You couldn’t just leave him here alone, he seemed hurt.

You’d never done something like that on accident, not to this degree. Anything else remotely similar had been used as self defense, to some mugger or two, and all it did was stun them for a sec so that you could run away.

You turn him over to check on him.

He appeared to be fine physically, but then again if he’d only fainted he’d be up and running by now. 

You sigh, stretching and getting ready to pick him up because he didn’t exactly look like a light-weight. Now, where was the nearest hideout?

Peter woke up in a sleeping bag. The first thought in his head wasn’t where he was, rather, why was his mask on? 

He moved to take it off but then remembered what happened last night.

Then he asked himself, where am I?

He strained to sit up. It felt like he’d been hit by a truck several times.

He first looked down because his head throbbed with a splitting headache. When he found himself stable enough, he looked at his surroundings. 

The first thing he’d noted to himself was that this was definitely not his bedroom, nor was it a place he recognized.

The second thing was, the place was dirty as all hell, it looked to be an abandoned warehouse. The only furniture seemed to be placed there by squatters, which was technically what you were, since this was your hideout.

You walked carrying a dunkin donuts bag. “You’re up?”

Without the beanie and the mask, he could finally see who you were. “(y/n)?” He whispered under his breath, hoping you wouldn’t catch that. You were the person who gave him hints, and also the star of the track team. No wonder you were able to run away from him that fast, even with your powers. He felt stupid, it was so obvious who you were.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You snicker, sitting next to him. You take note of the way he sways as he sits as if he were dazed, which he most likely was. “I’m going to assume you know me. As much as I’d like to guess who you were, I think that’d be a bit rude.”

Despite how dizzy he felt, Peter couldn’t help but notice you acted as if whatever happened in that alleyway didn’t happen.

You were being nice to him, even when he started that argument.

“I brought food, even if you won’t eat it in front of me.” You hand him a sandwich and a cup of water. Peter nods, taking the drinks but keeping them next to him. “I checked you for any serious injuries, had to pull back your suit.”

You notice the way he leans back from you, you take it as a sign of worry.

“Don’t worry, there was nothing serious. I didn’t check under your mask either, if you’re worried about that too.” You thought he would’ve assumed you didn’t from your previous comment about his identity, but panic can make you forget things, you guess. “Just bruises, and I think I gave you a concussion. They’re probably from that red burst... sorry about that by the way.”

“Probably?” He asked.

You hummed a yes, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t actually know much about these powers.” You played with the neon light of the glow stick you always carried around with you, in case you ever needed a recharge. You ‘pulled’ the light from the stick, admiring it. Spider-Man seemed to admire it too, though probably in an investigative manner.

After a while of molding it into different forms, you put it back on the stick. Peter took that as a sign to speak up.

“You don’t mind me knowing your identity?”

You stare up at him with a cheeky smile. Peter thought you looked beautiful under the red glow of the glowstick. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

Peter flushes a bright red, thankful for his mask. He nods slowly, pretending he was processing the information.

“I should.. leave.” He stands up, a little too fast for his dizziness. As a consequence, he nearly falls back down, if it weren’t for your fast reflexes.

“I think you should stay a while.” Your smile was wonderful. “Wait ‘till you feel fine.”

Peter looked out the small windows of the warehouse, it was still dark out. That was a relief, since that day, or maybe tomorrow who knows, was a school day. “Okay.” He mutters adorably. He plops back down on the sleeping bag.

You sit next to him again, taking a bite of your own sandwich. “I don’t imagine you’re actually hungry.” He nods back at you.

“You should take these back.” He makes an effort to shove the items back in your bag, but you stop him before he can.

“No, you should keep them.” He can tell you seem worried.

“Y’know, I think my concussion is--” He tries to stand up, yet you pull him back down.

You gave him an all-knowing look, “It’s not. You’re still swaying.”

You see the spider eyes narrow at you, and you can’t help but think he’s adorable. It’s almost like Peter trying to figure out if you’re flirting with him or not. “You’re nice.”

“I caused your concussion.” You reply.

Right, you were the one that pulled Flash away from him. He’d heard the stories from the other kids, too. Man, you seemed absolutely perfect.

The rest of his time with you he insists on making small talk, even if you tell him not talking might help him rest up more. You weren’t exactly sure if it would, and he wasn’t either, which was one of the reasons he insisted.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to stop swaying. He had a small headache, which would most likely last for the rest of the day, but the dizziness had left him.

His main priority was to get out of there, not only to get home, but also because you were making him flustered. You liked teasing Spider-Man, despite not indulging in blush because of the mask. You could tell by the way he looked down or how he fiddled with his fingers.

“I think I’m good now.” You made him stand up to make sure he was telling the truth.

He passed that simple test so you showed him towards the exit.

You checked your phone, “12 am.”

He nods, sandwich bag webbed up to the drink for easier carriage. “Uh..” You hadn’t expected Spider-Man to be this awkward. “Thanks..?”

“Yeah,” You smile. “No problem.”

He turns to head out but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder. He nearly jumps back when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“See ya around?” Your smile turned cheeky.

“Y-Yeah!” He exclaims out nervously. A second later, he’s right out the door. Even if he has a mask on, he’s not risking embarrassing himself in front of you.

“God, why do I have to be so awkward?”

[punkpoemprose]

December 14th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 6

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 6083 Words A/N: Dear reader, there is only one bed. And a lot of feelings before there is only one bed. More feelings about there being only one bed in the following chapter which will probably come soon?

Thanks for hanging in here with me. Everyone who reblogs, messages, leaves comments or tags gets a star sticker and a hug because the feedback keeps me writing and I love it!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Kristoff watched cautiously as Anna sat on a small stone near Pabbie’s home and listened to the old troll tell her the same information that had been shared with him earlier in the day. It had been confusing to him at first, particularly because he scarcely remembered anything about his early years with the trolls and the time of his life he spent without them. Anna had been even younger than he had been when their paths had first crossed, and she was having difficulty remembering it to the point that Kristoff wondered whether it had really happened at all.

The trolls didn’t lie, but they had also been alive for several human lifespans, and sometimes they forgot details or transposed dates, and it certainly wasn’t something that Kristoff could ever hold against them. They knew more about the history of the land than he could ever imagine learning, not to mention all the information they knew about magic and nature that he was certain no human could ever hope to understand with such mastery.

What if I just dragged her here to be confused and scared instead of comforted and informed?

He almost wanted to take her to the side and apologize when Pabbie looked at her with a serious gaze, like he wasn’t quite sure what had gone wrong. He wanted to tell her that he had only meant to comfort her the way he’d been comforted earlier in the day, and that he wanted her to feel safe with him and his family. He wanted to ask what she needed and give it to her.

I want to take care of her.

He realized in that moment that there was something he could do to that end, signaling for one of his uncles to come to his side.

“Can you bring a message to the city for me?” he asked as Anna continued, not too far off, to talk in quiet but confused tones with Pabbie.

“Of course. I just hope the Queen will remember us better than her sister.”

He sighed. He wanted to chide the troll for the tone of confusion. He wanted to tell him to cut Anna some slack for not remembering, because he wasn’t even sure it had been her at all. At least he knew that the Queen must know of the treaties between the crown and the trolls, or that at least one magic wielder might understand another.

The trolls usually tried not to leave their valley, particularly because they didn’t need to do so, but they were capable of it. He’d noticed them sometimes out of the corner of his eye, hiding in parts of the city at night when they were curious enough to explore. He knew that some of the people knew of them well enough to leave them alone, while others knew enough of them to be frightened by them, which was of course little to nothing as anyone who knew more than what to call them knew they were harmless.

“Please just tell the Queen that… well you’re my family and that her sister is safe and well. Tell her we got caught up talking and that we’ll be staying the night in the mountains and returning in the morning.”

The troll smiled, “Oh, staying the night is she? Do you want me to send some of your aunts and sisters over to make up that little cabin of yours?”

The wink the troll gave him was exaggerated, and Kristoff couldn’t help but feel grateful that Anna was too busy speaking with Pabbie to notice. He wasn’t meaning to be crass, but Kristoff couldn’t help but give him an annoyed look as she shook his head and sighed.

“No. Just let the Queen know please. I’d rather not be beheaded first thing in the morning when the palace guards get sent out in search of the Princess and think I’ve kidnapped her.”

The troll laughed, and Kristoff couldn’t tell if he understood that he was being serious or not. He hadn’t really thought much about Anna leaving the castle with him that morning. He’d always come and gone places as he liked in his life. It had never struck him to think for a moment about how his wife wasn’t allowed to do the same until they’d left the castle gates and she’d been so rapt with attention and focused on every detail of the town and the wood beyond the castle gates.

He’d shown her the places she’d never known existed before. There were natural hot springs, overlooks, waterfalls, and groves of apple trees she’d never seen. He’d stopped and slowed to let her see them as they rode along, and while they’d made good time on their trip into the mountains, he’d never wanted to avoid a stop that might interest her.

Is that what love feels like?

He shook off the thought and watched as the troll, still laughing at him and shaking his head, set off toward the edge of the clearing. Once there he started to quickly roll down the path that Kristoff knew was the quickest way to get to the capitol city from the mountains. He took comfort in the fact that as quick as the trolls could move the trip was not likely to take long, and that soon enough Anna’s sister would know that she was safe.

Hopefully she’ll take the word of a troll.

He turned his attention back to Anna and his grandfather. It seemed, as he walked back to their space, that there had not been any major breakthroughs on getting her to remember the moment that their paths crossed as children. It was odd to him that she wouldn’t remember anything that had happened to her. Though, when he thought about it a bit harder, he felt like he could remember the little red haired girl, the one that Pabbie thought was Anna, being asleep through the whole interaction.

“Pabbie?” he interrupted, wondering if perhaps the revelation might prove useful, or at least allow Anna some respite.

He could see that she was tired. It had been a long day, and having the same information thrown at him earlier in the day with a better memory of the events had been exhausting enough. He could tell she was frustrated and trying her best not to show it. It was written all over her posture, the way her fists were balled up on her knees, and the way her head was hung a little low so that she wasn’t quite making eye contact.

The old troll looked at him, but Kristoff’s focus was much more on Anna when she looked up at him. He saw that there was a shine to her eye, that she was frustrated to the point of tears.

You shouldn’t have brought her here.

He stepped closer and kneeled down at her side, offering her his hand. He felt relieved when she took it, and then warm when she used it to beckon him closer, leaning on him a bit when he complied to the physical request. They’d broken more unspoken cautionary boundaries today than they had on the wedding night.

Even their wedding kiss didn’t feel as intimate as her seeking his touch and support felt. He could almost fool himself into believing that what she felt for him was growing from partner in a bad situation to friend, to maybe something more like an actual spouse. He wanted to be that for her.

“I was just thinking… the girl… Anna, if it was her. She was asleep the whole time. How could she remember if her eyes weren’t open.”

The old troll looked thoughtful for a moment, and then Kristoff watched as he started piecing together the memories of the night that had been the subject of Kristoff’s thoughts for the entire evening. It was the day that the trolls had adopted him as their own, the day he’d followed a trail of ice to their valley and watched what he’d been told was the royal family meet with his grandfather.

He supposed that it had to have been them, unless of course ice powers and looking like the royal family were much more common traits than he had been lead to believe. It was what he rationalized bringing her to the trolls with. Somehow their whole situation felt a little bit better if the trolls were right and the early events of her life were tied to his.

Fate might be real, or it might be a load of crap, but either way it’s something to believe in and that feels good.

“You might be onto something Kristoff,” the old troll said, and then after another moment of silence he added, “Of course… Anna, do you remember your sister having powers when you were young?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment as Kristoff turned his head to look at her where she was leaned against his side. Her brow scrunched and she squeezed his fingers where they were interlaced with hers. She looked off into the distance, and he watched her space out as she thought about her younger years.

He was worried that they’d hit another roadblock when she shook her head.

“No, I was surprised as anyone when she froze the fountain… I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything but just the two of us playing.”

“I did a good job then,” the old troll said with a smile.

He made a broad gesture then with his hands, sweeping them through the air like something hung in it that only he could see. He swirled his hands in it, gathering something that Kristoff realized was becoming visible, glowing and glittering along his fingertips.

With an abrupt shift, that made them both jump, the old troll leaned forward and settled his hand on Anna’s forehead, the light settling into her skin as he eyes fluttered shut.

***

She was small and she was building a snowman. His name was olaf, and he was very cold, but he loved warm hugs. She hugged him, her little arms unable to span his snow body, but the love she felt for him was bigger than she was. Elsa giggled from behind the snowman, carefree, in a way she hadn’t seen her in years.

Then Elsa was with her again, this time making a sled of ice for them to slip down an icy hill on. Anna hadn’t recalled it not being a wooden sled before, but it made sense. No wooden sled wooshed the way they did on the ice. No wooden sled felt so cool under her.

She saw them again, Elsa making little snow dolls for her to play with, even though it was bedtime. Anna made them smooch because she always liked it when her toys were in a story about true love and marriage. It made her sad, for a moment, to remember that.

Then, she felt a knot grow in her stomach as she recalled a night long since forgotten. Elsa was building her little snow hills, and she was jumping quickly from one to another. She was jumping higher and higher and higher, but then there wasn’t another column below her, and she started to fall. She saw Elsa try to help, saw the flash of her sister’s ice come towards her, and then everything after was dark and cold.

She tried to push through it, to remember more, but not more memories would come, because they had never been formed.

I was asleep.

She felt a warmth at her side, and she let herself take a deep breath before opening her eyes. The old troll had been right of course. The night she couldn’t remember had likely been the very same night Kristoff came to the valley, following the ice from her wound and from Elsa’s anxious inability to control her powers.

When she opened her eyes Kristoff was staring down at her. She’d been pulled into his lap, and she thought, for a moment, about closing her eyes and staying there for a moment.

Her head hurt. There was a sort of congested soreness behind her eyes that radiated out to her temples as more memories, little ones about snowball fights and flurries and ice skating filtered back into her thoughts. Kristoff put his hand against her forehead, as if he were checking her temperature, and Anna noticed some of the pain fall away.

It was no magic that helped her feel better of course, just the warmth of his hand and the gentleness of the gesture that made her feel like all of this truly had been fate.

She looked up at him, and then above him, to the clear and cloudless night that had come on as she talked to Pabbie. She wondered if she looked hard enough, whether she could see herself and Kristoff written in the stars like any of the other constellations.

She’d had a tutor once who’d told her that constellations were just stars, a million miles away, that weren’t rigid structures so much that they were interpolated shapes, lines that humans drew in the ocean of stars above to tell themselves a story. She stared up at them, past Kristoff’s concerned features, and picked a handful that she thought looked a bit like interlocking circles, give or take a few stars.

That’s us.

Two circles crossing over each other, linked by fate. And by a wedding. And maybe by more.

The stars twinkled as she gazed upon them, and she thought that maybe they too were a sign. She hoped that they were telling her that everything would be alright.

Kristoff’s thumb moved a bit of hair away from her eyes, swiping it away easily as he held her in his lap, against him, against his arm. The almost brain freeze-like pain faded away the longer his hand rested against her forehead, and she let her eyes drift back closed.

***

Kristoff had been worried that she had been injured. He trusted Pabbie of course, but when she’d slumped a bit at his side and had stayed weak and slumped for a while after her memories had been returned, he had been afraid that something had gone wrong.

She’d come out of the shock of it a few short minutes later though, and he’d held her in his lap for a long while before she’d sat up on her own. They’d talked to Pabbie a bit more after, about how Kristoff had only found his family because of her family’s accident. It felt strange to think that they’d met before, her and the trolls, and that Kristoff had seen her that night.

She hadn’t remembered it because she’d been asleep, and she hadn’t remembered anything before that because the memories had been taken from her. That hurt to think about, that there were all these wonderful memories of her sister being her authentic self that were gone to her for so long.

The old troll had explained the need to remove the memories, the fact that with her being so young, Elsa’s magic might have done worse than just changed her hair if the memory of it had been left there. She knew that of course, having been struck again with her sister’s cold fairly recently and almost dying because of it. It had only been her own urge to protect Elsa that had saved her life.

She looked over to Kristoff, as they broke into the clearing where his small home sat. He had a thoughtful look on his face that she could scarcely read in the dim light provided by the moon and stars above them. He’d wrapped his arm around her for the walk back, steadying her on the path as they walked through shadows and she thought that maybe he was also trying to warm her.

The summer night was not particularly cold per say, but still she shivered.

She wondered what he would do when she told him about being struck with her sister’s ice for a second time. She wasn’t sure if he would understand, and she didn’t want his pity. She didn’t think she needed to warn him about it either. It was just something she thought he might like to know.

I just want someone to know.

Plenty of people knew, really. The royal council, Elsa, some of the staff, but no one had talked with her about it. No one asked how it had felt, how she’d felt her life ending and knew that she was powerless to stop anything but the end for her sister as well. It had been a miracle that they’d both survived, but there had been no time to breathe after.

“I sent someone to tell your sister you’d be staying,” he said quietly, “Hopefully she wasn’t too worried about how long we’ve been gone.”

Anna flushed. She’d forgotten about making sure Elsa knew they were alright. She still wasn’t sure if her sister had even gotten the note that she’d left for her.

In hindsight she could have probably handled the whole situation better, but she had just wanted to leave the castle, to be alone with her new husband for a while. Elsa, she knew, was still uncomfortable and fearful about the whole situation. Anna was as well, but she’d spent at least a little time with Kristoff and knew that he was the sort of person who would close off around others. If she really wanted to get to know him, it wasn’t something that could be done with the trailing guards Elsa would have insisted on.

She could already imagine the speech she was going to get from her sister when she arrived home. The air around her felt colder even thinking about it.

“Anna?”

He’d said something while she was thinking, but she hadn’t heard him. She still couldn’t completely see his face due to the dimness of the light around them, but she thought that maybe he was smiling. He probably realized she had spaced out, and she appreciated that he didn’t seem to get annoyed or upset with her when she did so.

If he did it would be a long and frustrating marriage.

She hoped that it would, of course, be a long one.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about something.”

He nodded and extended a hand to her, offering her assistance to enter the cabin. She took the offered hand, but didn’t move, awaiting a repeat of what he’d just said.

“It’s alright, I was just letting you know there’s a tinderbox and a lantern inside. I already brought in the food you packed earlier. I suppose it’s a good thing we brought along extra. I had food here, but you probably wouldn’t have cared for it.”

Her heart started to pound. He made it sound like he was leaving her alone, and that was the last thing she wanted. Their walk back from the valley where the trolls resided had been a quiet one, and she felt like there was so much to say.

I don’t like to be alone.

She couldn’t say that though.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

He shrugged, “I thought I’d stay the night in the stable. You’d be more comfortable without me I’m sure.”

“I would not. You will not,” she said, the response instant and a bit rude, but she couldn’t help it.

She’d spoken the words like a command, but really she didn’t want to put him out. She would never expect him to be put into an uncomfortable position for her, especially not at his own home. More than that, she wanted him to stay with her. They’d been together all day and he hadn’t stepped even a toe out of the line they’d made together on their wedding night. He’d kept her safe, and he’d introduced her to his family. It was more than she’d ever dreamed their trip would be, and he’d, in a roundabout way, given her back her memories. She couldn’t possibly ever thank him enough for that. The least she could do was ensure he spent the night in his own bed.

“Please,” she said, this time a bit more controlled, “Stay.”

His jaw clenched, and she could feel the tension in him, even with the darkness between them she knew he was uncomfortable. She’d put him into a situation where he needed to make a choice, and while she took comfort in the fact that this time she had, in fact, afforded him the option of choice, she still felt a bit bad about acting as if she had any right to demand anything of him.

Her free hand raised up slowly, and before she could talk herself out of it, she cupped his cheek in her palm. The light stubble there scratched at her palm, and she wondered, for a moment, how it might feel to press a kiss there.

She flushed at the thought, grateful for the cover of darkness.

She felt his head tip, ever so slightly, into the touch. Her fingers tingled at the encouragement of the contact, and she let her thumb run across the top of his cheekbone, watching as he closed his eyes.

He sighed. It was a soft and quiet thing. She thought maybe even a relenting sound.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll stay here with you tonight.”

***

He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to her demand that he stay the night with her. Really it wasn’t a demand per say. It had seemed like one at first, but then she’d pleaded, and touched him so gently, and he couldn’t say no. It had been hard to see her expression in the dark, but he had been able to feel the need heavy in the air between them.

He never really knew what was proper. She was his wife, but she was in many ways, still a stranger. Spending the night in the same space as her didn’t feel right to his conscious.

You did stay the night with her on your wedding night.

He tried to tell himself that it was different, because they’d fallen asleep together by accident, and this was an act with intention. He tried to sooth his concerns with the promise that he’d sleep on the floor and leave the bed to her, but he already had the feeling that she wouldn’t stand for it.

His bed was so small though. He wasn’t sure that they would both fit in it without being so tight together that she would surely be uncomfortable.

She wasn’t uncomfortable touching your cheek. She wasn’t uncomfortable in your lap.

He closed the door of the stable behind him, thinking of it as the point of no return as he walked back towards his home. The light from the lantern in his hand flickered gently in a light breeze that buffeted the dark grass below his feet. In the window of the cabin he saw the outline of Anna, his wife, watching him return.

A nearly identical lamp sat in the windowsill before her, and he watched as it danced in return. Her hair looked even redder than normal, lit only by firelight.

He’d never thought about the type of woman he’d marry, but now that he was wedded to Anna, he couldn’t help but be charmed by her. She had bright eyes and a soft smile. Her personality was pure sunshine, dulled only by moments of deep melancholy that he was unsure if he could yet ask her about. He wanted to know her better, in a variety of ways. But seeing her now, waiting for him in just her underclothes, red hair like flames loose around her shoulders, he thought that he might want to know her in one very specific way.

He hoped that she couldn’t see his flush as he tried to think about anything but how easy it would be to slip her chemise from her shoulders. She’d already rid herself of her corset.

You’ve barely known her three days.

He huffed a sigh and tried to regain control of his thoughts.

She’s three years younger than you. She’s young and beautiful and stuck with you. Don’t think of impossible things.

Instead he forced himself to walk towards the front door with no intentions beyond maybe some conversation if she’d like, and sleeping.

And maybe hugging her goodnight.

He thought that maybe she’d like that.

***

Anna’s heart raced as he returned indoors and quietly and quickly removed his boots, his vest, his socks, and then nothing else. He grabbed a spare quilt from the end of his bed, passing her as he went, but saying nothing as he set it on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

He looked at her, and she noticed that he was flushed. She wasn’t certain of why, but she assumed that it was because she’d caught him in the act of something she wouldn’t approve of. She wouldn’t disapprove of much at the moment, save for him trying to sleep in the stables again, or perhaps on the floor.

“Getting ready for bed.”

The answer was a quiet one, simple. He gave her no more information than she asked for. It made her want to stomp over to him and drag him across the room, to the bed and keep him there all night.

“On the floor?”

He shrugged and she frowned. She could feel a wall building between them, one that hadn’t been there before dinner or before he’d gone out to take care of Sven for the night. It was frustrating, the feeling that they’d finally come to some kind of middle ground, where they were opening up to each other and then to watch it slip out of reach again.

“The bed’s not big enough for the both of us.”

“I think you might be surprised,” she said, glancing between him and the bed, “You’ll find I can take up very little space if the situation requires.”

I spent my whole childhood virtually invisible. You’ll see how small I can be.

“You won’t be comfortable with me there… I’m just trying to do the right thing Anna.”

“Don’t I get a say in what the right thing is?”

She felt something in her stomach tangle into knots. It had been a long day, and now she was fighting with him over something that shouldn’t matter at all. It was just that she wasn’t ready to be alone yet, even if it was just a few feet away. She wanted him closer.

I just want to pretend, just for tonight, that this is a real marriage.

I just want to be wanted.

Hot tears stung at her eyes, not for the first time that day. She did her best to hold them back, but she was feeling conflicted and frustrated and embarrassed. They were strangers, and she wanted him in bed with her. She knew that she should feel worse about it, that she should stop arguing and just go to sleep because he was being a good man to her and she couldn’t demand that he change his views on their union, but she couldn’t tell herself that her feelings weren’t real and she couldn’t pretend anymore that she wasn’t feeling something for him, even three days into their marriage of convenience.

He stared at her, and she thought that she saw a flare of frustration in his eyes. She couldn’t call it anger though. He was still a stranger, but he was her husband and as much as she knew of him, she already understood that he wasn’t going to be angry with her. Not over being upset after a long day, so for the first time in a long time she decided just to let loose.

“Do you know when the last time anyone asked me what I thought was right for me? The last time that anyone asked me to make any decisions about my life that mattered? Because the answer is never. I can see that clearly now that I have all my early memories back, which, you know, my parents consented to having removed and never replaced until now when, thankfully, I ended up married to the one man in the world that had a connection that let me get them back. No one has ever let me decide what was right for me a day in my life Kristoff and fighting back against that nearly got me and my sister killed. It’s the reason why we’re married, because I tried to make a choice, screwed up my one and only shot at it, and people I barely know convinced my sister they knew what was best for me. You don’t have to change your decisions because I want to be free to make mine, but I would appreciate it if I could be included in the conversation over whether something involving me is right or wrong.”

She was shouting, but her throat felt tight. She knew that the heat on her cheeks was from tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

You sound like a petulant child.

It was true. She did, but she refused to feel bad about it. She’d been unable to throw a good fit since she was very small, and somehow despite probably alienating her husband in the process, it felt good to just let some of the frustration and rage escape. Of course she still knew that her memories being taken from her was a necessity, but it was just another broken straw in the wake of how her parents had raised her, how her family had paved the road to her current hell with nothing but good intentions and no willingness to see past the end of their noses to ask her what she needed.

“I’m…”

She couldn’t say she was sorry.

I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m lonely and confused and I need someone.

She heard him approaching her, but she couldn’t look up to meet his eye. She still wasn’t sorry, but she was embarrassed.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, warm and solid.

She wrapped her arms around him in return, bringing herself into his space as much as possible until she was crying into his shirt and melting into his frame while his hands ran up and down her back. There was a nervousness and uncertainty to the slow and stuttering way he touched her, as if he was afraid of letting his hands move too quickly, or too low.

It was comforting nevertheless, and she let herself breathe through it. When one hand found her hair, she squeezed him a bit tighter, encouraging the touch. No one had ever just touched her hair before. Or at least not since she was very young.

When he carded his fingers through it gently, fingertips smoothing over the ripples her braids had left, she focused on the feeling of the strands being lifted and shifted. It was easier to breathe when she made him her focus. Every time she’d broken down over the last three days, he’d been there to help her through it. While there were people in her life that loved her dearly, she’d never had anyone care so much about how she was feeling minute by minute.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently when her hiccupping breaths had evened out, “You’re right. I should have asked you what you wanted, or at least told you why I didn’t want to share the bed with you. I’m not used to my decisions affecting other people.”

She let herself lean away from his now dampened shirt front, but his arms didn’t lift from her, his hand shifting from her hair back down to the center of her back where the other hand already rested. She didn’t let him go either but loosened her grip slightly so that they could create enough space between them for her to see his face.

He looked worried, but the frustration in his features was gone, replaced again by a softness she was beginning to regard as a look he reserved for her. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but imagining that he was warming up to her, that their closeness today meant as much to him as it meant to her. Imagining it brought her some comfort.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said, sniffling a bit as she regained control over her breathing fully and worked to dislodge the feeling of tightness in her throat.

“I think that’s part of what being married is,” he replied, “Listening to the other person when they need to get something off their chest.”

As much as she’d thought about weddings and being married as a kid, she’d never really thought much about what it meant to be married. She liked the idea that he would listen to her when she needed to vent, and she thought that maybe she could do that for him too.

“Do you have anything you need to say to me… I think I’m a good listener.”

As long as I’m not distracted.

He pulled her back into the hug a little tighter and she squeezed him in return.

“Sure, but it’s not urgent.” He replied, his voice low and warm. Calming.

“I think you might have some more to say first? I’m not going to pry, but I didn’t know what was going to happen with my family, and I think that if what just happened to you happened to me, I’d need to talk about it. You don’t have to. I just thought you might want to.”

She nodded. She had five years’ worth of memories to unpack, to disentangle from lies she’d believed for thirteen years. Having someone to listen sounded nice.

“But maybe bed first?” he asked, sounding uncertain.

***

He’d done his best to explain to her why he’d tried to take up residence on the floor without her, leaving her in the bed. He hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable in either the physical or mental sense. He hadn’t wanted to assume that being married promised him a spot at her side, even if it was in his bed. He hadn’t wanted her to sleep on the floor either.

Now though he was starting to realize that Anna’s idea of what was right for their relationship was certainly feeling right to him.

He was shirtless, her tears had soaked his shirt and it had been her insistence that he’d removed it. At the time he’d thought that he’d seen her eyes linger on his bare torso, and while it was probably just his overactive imagination, he thought that she’d appeared to be enjoying what she was seeing.

I want my wife to be attracted to me. I think I do at least. I know I’m attracted to her.

She was sleeping, her head rested on his bare chest like a pillow, curled up at his side in a way that he was certain would cause a crick in her neck in the morning. He didn’t want to move an inch, his arm was draped over her, a thin quilt and her chemise all that separated them.

She’d told him so much about her life, what it was like to grow up in the castle. Even with her memories returned to her, which she’d described as uncomfortable but not the worst thing she’d ever been through, she couldn’t recall much of what life had been like before the gates had been closed. It made sense to him, as he couldn’t remember much about his life before the trolls took him in, and he’d been eight at the time.

She’d exhausted herself describing the details of what it was like to grow up the way she had, and he hadn’t argued when she’d pulled him to bed with her. He understood that she didn’t want to be alone, and he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hold her in his arms.

He already liked her, and as she nuzzled into his chest and let out a little snore, he realized, with a barely contained chuckle, that he was looking forward to loving her.

He closed his eyes and tried his best to fall asleep as she had, holding her tight to his side.

[mimicteruyo]

The Little Teahouse Around the Corner

[Touhou Ship Week Day 7: Free day. KomaEiki + AkyuSuzu, 2.7k, crack/fluff]

---

If described very charitably, the construction before Eiki and Komachi could have been called a teahouse, exactly as the bamboo plank above the entrance claimed it was. More accurately, it was simply a large tent lit with red lanterns, standing conspicuously close to the Human Village.

"At least it's open?" Komachi eyed the obviously wet paint on the sign, then peered within. "I figured that at this hour, we'd have a choice between grilled lamprey and nothing this close to the village."

"Indeed." Eiki followed Komachi's example. There were certainly plenty of people within, each with a beverage in front of them, but the overall mood in the tent was quietly puzzled. Besides chairs and tables, there was also what looked bafflingly like an oden cart. "Something about this seems wrong."

"No worries, Sis! It ain't anything weird! We're runnin' a perfectly nice temp teahouse!"

They straightened up in unison. The speaker was a calico cat perched on a stool just barely to the side of the tent's entrance, grinning at them. "Lookin' for a cosy place to chat? We've got ya covered!"

Komachi grinned back. "Mike Goutokuji, right? Don't tell me this is your shop."

"It ain't. I'm just workin' here for a bit." Mike's tail swayed gently from side to side as she talked, its many-coloured fur catching the light of the lanterns. "I'm a barker! Which I know sounds really weird since I'm a cat an' all, but I can do the job. For a few days, anyway. Steady work doin' the same thing over an' over again ain't really my thing."

Komachi chuckled. "I know that feel— er."

Eiki chose to ignore the aborted remark. In any case, Mike's plans made it sound as though she was doing precisely what she supposed to do. Losing interest in things and loafing around were some of the chief goals in a cat's life, after all.

"Anyway," Mike curled up her palm. She beckoned three times. "Welcome to the Juniper Teahouse."

The next moment, Eiki found herself within the tent with no memory of stepping inside.

She halted, blinking in the sudden light. There were half a dozen customers within, humans and youkai alike, nursing teacups and expressions ranging from vexed to serene. Although there were multiple chairs for each table, every single customer was solitary. What had looked like an oden cart from the outside was precisely that; no-one appeared to man it, although the occasional bang and tuneful whistle from within it told her that someone was indeed there, just beyond sight.

"Komachi," she began, more puzzled than troubled even as she clutched the Rod of Remorse closer to her chest. "We should keep our eyes—"

It was at that moment that she became aware of a distinct lack of Komachi by her side. Only Mike was there, waving her legs in the air and looking very pleased with herself.

Eiki spun around. "Komachi?"

No answer. No sight of Komachi, either.

Standing by the entrance feeling foolish wasn't going to do anyone much good. Ignoring the slow blink Mike was giving her, Eiki stepped back outside.

And collided with an invisible barrier with enough force to momentarily bounce her off her feet. She staggered back in surprise.

Mike gave her an apologetic wince. "Sorry, Sis." Her tail swished low as Eiki studied her forehead for bumps. "After I've invited ya in, ya've gotta stay a while."

"Is this your ability?" Eiki prodded at the barrier with the Rod of Remorse. It proved as solid and unyielding as a ten-foot block of ice. "What happened to Komachi?"

"She'll be fine," said a familiar voice behind Eiki. "At least, she will be according to what Mike told me. You'll be a better judge of whether it's true or not."

Eiki turned to see a slightly less familiar face smiling at her close to the back of the tent and responded in kind. "I didn't notice you before. May I join you?"

Hieda no Akyuu assented with a nod. She waited for Eiki to take the seat opposite of her before continuing. "I hope you've been well. This present situation expected, of course."

Eiki crossed her hands on the table. "I would say so. The situation in Hell remains both confusing and volatile, but that's to be expected. Has your work progressed well?"

Akyuu took a careful sip from her cup. "It has, thank you. I've kept comfortably busy. And Kosuzu..." Akyuu's smile, which bore a distinct resemblance to that of her previous incarnation, brightened and then immediately dimmed. "I hope you don't mind my saying this, but I expected her to sit where you sit now." Her smile grew more rueful still. "Especially since she's the one who wished to come here."

"Has this establishment..." Eiki gestured at their surroundings and discovered that she couldn't call them that without correcting herself. "...Tent been here for long?"

"It appeared yesterday. As for me, I have been here for ten minutes. Mike informed me that it takes at least an hour for her invitations to be considered fulfilled."

"That's longer than I had hoped." Eiki frowned at the innocuous-looking exit and Mike, who was currently occupied with a moth circling the lantern nearest to the entrance before turning her attention back to Akyuu. "Can you tell me precisely what's going on in this place?"

"I can explain that!" a muddled but cheery voice called from the bottom of the oden cart.

---

Komachi had walked merrily along for several minutes, taking in the twilight air and seeing if she could get her breath to fog up in the lingering cold from the past winter, when she realised she had at no point decided to take an evening stroll. Moreover, she was now alone, something which was the exact opposite of her plans for the night.

She halted in the middle of the path and turned to look over her shoulder. The greenness of the teahouse tent blended into the evening behind her, but she could still see it when she squinted. Distance of course meant little to her: she could be back there nearly as soon as she decided upon it.

But first, it was best to figure what had happened. It was likely nothing serious: the situation had the feel of a fairy prank to it. Still, the fact that she couldn't actually remember what had passed rubbed her the wrong way.

"Alright..." She adjusted her scythe to rest more comfortably on her shoulder. "What happened here?"

So, there was the weird teahouse, and Mike, who did strike Komachi as bit of a prankster, but who had seemed earnest enough inviting them in. Had Mike addressed her invitation to Lady Eiki alone? No, Komachi was sure it had been extended to them both.

She recalled her only previous encounter with Mike, on a lazy afternoon not that long ago when she had wandered into Gensokyo and struck up a conversation with the cat upon meeting her on the road. Mike had mentioned arriving in Gensokyo not that long ago, having only recently left behind the temple she had been born at, and that due to circumstances she had done so before she had completed her training as a maneki—

"Damn."

At the moment of realisation, Komachi became aware of of running footsteps rapidly approaching her, just in time not to be entirely surprised by someone small but fast-moving crashing into her.

"Ow!" The person who had collided with her tottered back, holding a hand to her nose. Even in the dying light and with half her face covered, she was obviously Kosuzu Motoori. "I'm sorry! I just..."

Kosuzu trailed off. Her eyes travelled first up to Komachi's face, then to the blade of her scythe. She took a startled step back.

Komachi grinned. "No need to fret. You're not dying tonight."

Kosuzu relaxed quickly in that quietly alarming way of humans who made of habit of traipsing too close to the border of the mundane and the supernatural. As her shock drained away, it was replaced by an almost mournful expression, so out of place it was almost comical.

"What's the matter?" Komachi almost began walking to see if Kosuzu would follow, but she had a funny feeling it would only result in Kosuzu crashing into her again. "It's not wise for you to run alone on a dark night like this. Did someone refuse to return your favourite book?"

Kosuzu fidgeted with her sleeves. "No, nothing like that." For a moment, she looked hesitant to speak, but once she did, the words spilled out of her in a tumble. "Actually, it's our anniversary today."

"Whose?"

Kosuzu's cheeks flushed pink. "Mine and Akyuu's."

"Really?" Komachi couldn't help but chuckle. "That's a funny coincidence."

"What is?"

"Never mind." Komachi relaxed her stance. "Let's see if I can guess what happened. Since it was your anniversary, you decided to go out to celebrate."

"That's right."

"And you happened upon a new, strange teahouse."

"Exactly!" Kosuzu halted her eager nodding to blink. "How did you know?"

"Because it sounds like we're in the same figurative boat."

"Oh." Kosuzu smiled weakly. "I suppose that's better than a literal boat. Um, I mean..."

Komachi laughed. "That'll be another day." Before Kosuzu could become too unsettled, she nudged her head towards the road behind them. "Come on. Let's go find our dates."

---

"Here you go." Suika Ibuki slammed the teacup onto the table with enough force to make half the liquid within leap into the air. Miraculously, not only were both the table and cup undamaged, but the drink returned into the cup without so much as a single drop spilling. She winked. "I'd say it's on the house, but I'm guessing you'd take that for a bribe."

Eiki took the cup gingerly. Seeing its contents in the air had already made it obvious it was filled with anything but tea, but the scent confirmed it. "Is this sake?"

"Well, yeah."

"The sign outside said you're running a teahouse."

"Yeah, yeah. Is there a law saying you can't serve sake in a teahouse?"

Eiki had to concede the point. "Not in Gensokyo, no."

"See? Try it. It's good." Suika turned towards Akyuu. "Care for a refill?"

As Akyuu murmured a demurral, Eiki took a sip from her drink. It was indeed rather good, but that was beside the real matter at hand. She looked up. "Suika—"

Suika had already left the table. Eiki watched her stalk around the tent, grinning as she went, gathering empty cups and refilling others with seemingly no input from the patrons.

"So where was I?" She returned and cheerfully pulled out the remaining seat for herself. If she was discomfited by any lingering memories of the less than auspicious circumstances during which she had last encountered Eiki, she showed no signs of it, instead beaming with the brightness shared by the very innocent and inveterate liars. "A story of some kind?"

"You were about to explain why we can't leave."

"Yeah, that's right. So this teahouse is just a bit of fun. I'll get going as soon as Reimu finds out I've set up shop this close to the village." Suika grinned. "Actually, I think I'll wait for her to show up. It's more fun that way."

Akyuu offered her a polite smile. Eiki pushed her cup aside. "And then you hired Mike?"

"That's right." Suika took Eiki's cup and downed it in a single long swig before continuing. "Of course, I don't really need her to gather customers. I can use my foregathering ability to bring people over just fine. But it feels more like a proper teahouse with an employee, doesn't it?"

"A floor might have a similar effect," commented Akyuu dryly.

"Anyway, since Mike can only invite one person in at a time, I decided to gather people into the area so that even if only half of them got in we'd still have plenty of customers. It worked really well, too. Until people tried to leave. I tried making the people disperse once they got stuck, obviously, but for some reason it only worked on those who hadn't been invited in at all. I'm guessing our abilities got entangled in some mysterious way."

Eiki nodded. "I see."

"Anyway, you don't have to worry. Everyone gets to leave eventually. Even the person stuck for the longest managed to walk out after two hours."

Akyuu set her cup down. "At least one of us may not have to wait for that long." She raised her voice. "Mike?"

Mike, who was no longer paying attention to the moth and was instead swinging her leg back and forth, jerked her head upwards. "What's up, Sis?"

"Can you step out for a moment?"

"Sure." Mike dove out. "Now what?"

Akyuu stood up and nodded at Suika. "Thank you for your hospitality." She gestured at Eiki to join her at the tent's entrance and waited until they were both there before speaking again. "Mike, can you attempt to invite us outside?"

"Oh, I see." Eiki smiled as she grasped Akyuu's intent. "Even if the invitation can only work on one of us, it still means one of us will be free to go."

"I hope you're the one invited out." Akyuu's smile was thin but sincere. "Unnerving as it is being this close to multiple youkai, I have made my peace with waiting here. After all, by remaining in one place I have better odds of re-uniting with—"

"Akyuu!"

They turned to look outside. Kosuzu hovered right behind Mike, bopping her head around in an effort to see past her. Behind her, calm but still curious, stood Komachi. Upon noticing Eiki, she gave her a cheery little wave.

Akyuu's smile immediately warmed to the point where its brightness was a match to the lanterns. "Everything is fine, Kosuzu. It's only a small supernatural obstacle."

Kosuzu gave a distracted nod, then turned towards Mike, looking almost ready to put hands on the cat. "Please invite us in!"

Mike's eyes darted from Komachi and Kosuzu to Akyuu and Eiki and then back. She frowned. "Kay, how about we try somethin' like this?"

She positioned herself in the tent's entrance, one foot in, one foot out. Before anyone could do anything to stop her, she beckoned with both hands. "Welcome!"

The next thing Eiki knew, she had collided with something unyielding but relatively soft.

"Oof." Komachi staggered back, then reached out to steady Eiki. She grinned. "At this rate I'm going to be qualified to work as a roadblock."

Back on her feet, Eiki looked around. She was outside again, with Komachi's hands on her arms and the tent securely behind. "Who knows how far I would have walked if you hadn't stopped me. Thank you for catching me."

"Did you ever doubt I wouldn't?"

Eiki smiled back at her. "No. I didn't."

They looked back. Within the tent, Kosuzu was clinging to Akyuu's arm, speaking rapidly but too quietly for any discernible words to make it outside the tent. Mike was watching them from her perch, smiling with self-satisfaction.

"Well, that worked out great." Suika came to the entrance, beaming as though Mike's success was hers as well. "Must be fate." She winked. "And don't worry about paying. The drink was on the house after all."

Given that most of the drink remained in the house, Eiki found little cause to complain. "Thank you." She frowned. "Don't invite more people in until you have understood what causes this. Consider—"

"Yeah, sure." Suika made a sweeping wave. "Have a good night!"

She retreated back into the tent. Only Mike remained near the entrance, still pleased with herself.

"That didn't exactly work out, huh?" said Komachi, smiling all the while.

"Yes, I suppose it didn't." Eiki watched Akyuu and Kosuzu retake the table Akyuu had previously occupied, smiling at each other all as though they were the only two people in the world. "But it doesn't seem to have done any harm, either. Should we consider the grilled lamprey stand?"

"Funny. I was just thinking I was in the mood for some fried fish." Komachi let go to adjust her scythe, which had nearly fallen from her shoulder in the collision, then held out her hand. "How about we go see what else fate has in store for us tonight?"

And so they did, continuing down the road together, filled with newfound appreciation for the beauty of spring nights.

[oingo233]

Hiii! Could I request a ship for the Marauders era and golden trio era?? I go by she/her and I am straight. I'm 16 and I´m a Slytherin. im 5´3, i have curly brown hair and brown eyes. I am a Taurus. I love to paint, read, discover new music and going on little adventures with my friends or family. I´m quite calm but the minute someone says party i go feral lmao. I hope that´s okay. Thank youuuu <3

Hello @ftwert ! I’m so sorry this has taken me so long!  But you sound absolutely wonderful and I’m very excited to ship you with...

Marauders Era:

I ship you with Regulus Black...

- He first saw you in the Slytherin common room.  You had paint smudged across your nose and cheek, he watched with pure amusement and something close to awe as you itched your nose and left an even larger smudge of deep purple across the area.  He stifled his laughter and tried to sneakily walk around you to get a peek of the canvas you were painting on.  His curiosity to what you could have been painting was palpable.  He craned his neck as he walked and completely missed the stack of books on the floor.

- He toppled face first and next thing he knew two soft hands were wrapped around his bicep and helping him up.  He blushed a deep red, which you found extremely endearing.  While he stuttered for a response you, yourself began to blush.  “I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to wipe some purple paint off of his shirt.  He looked down to take a better look and smiled, he shrugged.

- “S’ arlight.  Purple is nice,” it was his attempt of flirting as he pointed to your face, but you missed it completely and flushed as you wiped at your face.  He laughed now at the ridicoulsness of the moment and without thinking he brought his hand up to you cheek and caressed it softly, wiping at the paint to no avail.  It was dry but he was reluctant to move his hand, or to move away at all.  But atlas, he did.  He stepped back and a tense silence fell over you two,  but the tension was sweet and exciting.  You two struck up conversation, at first it was awkward but then you two sat all night on the couch and talked and slowly he began to laugh more around you.

- You were painting the forbidden forest at twilight, he went with you the next night to get a live reference.  He snuck out with you (he already knew he’d break several school rules to be with you, the feeling scared him) and sat next to you in comfortable silence as you painted.

- The next time you two snuck out to paint he brought a book and read it to you under the moonlight.

- The next time you snuck out you brought him a canvas too and taught him to paint.  Being with you, whether reading or painting he felt the weight of the world, the burden of war, lift from his shoulder completely.  He felt light and happy with you.  He felt normal.  And this change in his mood, and the frequency of his smiles and laughter around you did not go unnoticed by Sirius or anyone that knew Regulus in anyway.

- When you finished your painting of the forest, you gifted it to him for Christmas.  It was one of the nicest things he felt like he owned, and tried not to cry as he hugged you in thanks.

- You two became best friends and inseparable.  You pushed him in and out of his comfort zone and made him feel like he wasn’t alone anymore, whether it be through books or painting or even dragging him to the occasional party.  Where he watched with amusement as you let loose of your usual calm and went crazy on the dance floor.  You were an animal and a complete vision.  

- On a lazy weekend you two would put on random records and lounge in his dorm.  On some songs, Regulus would wordlessly take your hand and pull you into his chest for a long, slow dance.  You could feel his heart racing, yet calm, against your palm, and his hot breath on your temple.  Occasionally, even the feel of his soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline.  It was moments like this you doubted whether your friendship was truly platonic.

- When you had more space and were listening to records in the common room late at night he’d playfully pull you along in a waltz.  It was moments like this you remember that he was part of the Black family and on the list of things he learned, dancing like a gentleman was one of them.  

- You two always go on little adventures through the grounds, or after quitdditch games.  Most of the times you had to convince and prod him but he would always have so much fun and escalate every adventure because he truly did have the same rebellious blood that Sirius has, it just shows differently.  Mostly, this side is revealed when he is with you and feels free.

- It was on one of these little adventures that he confessed his love for you. You were cuddled into his chest while hiding from the groundkeeper, both of you trying to control your giggles.  You heard the groundkeepers footsteps fade away and in the silence that followed Regulus held you close and tight.  “I’m in love with you,” he said, he froze stiffly after the words tumbled out.  You looked up at him to see that he was already staring at you with wide eyes, you broke out into the most dazzling smile and his hear leapt straight from his chest and into your hand.  You kissed him.  Lets just say you two spent a long time in that little room making out.

Lightning Era

I ship you with George Weasley...

- It was a scandalous love.  Or that is what he likes to call it anyways, he likes to refer to Romeo and Juilet often because of the difference in houses.  But he loved it, if anything he thought you were perfect and he also found the sneaking around very hot.

- He first saw you on the train one year, at the end of summer.  You were reading alone and bobbing your head to music with a little smile.  He was dying to know more about you, so later that day he snuck away from his brothers and found his way to you quite suddenly.  

- Your chests collided and your book fell to the floor, he went to pick it up at the same time you did and you two bumped heads.  Hard.  You yelped and he mumbled a curse under his breath, rubbing his head with one hand, he held and inspected the book with the other.  It was his favorite.  He handed it back to you and very slowly walked you back to your cart as you two talked about the book and your favorite parts.

- When it was time to part he sweetly kissed your cheek and joked that he’d find you again if it was the last thing he’d ever do. He left you blushing madly and standing frozen for a bit.  That night at dinner you felt his eyes burning into you, whenever you caught his gaze he both winked and fought a blush of his own.  He then snuck away again to walk you back to your dorm, you found yourself sneaking away from your friends too, just so that you two would be alone.

- You two started to pass notes in class and the one time you got caught he took all the blame and got a short detention for it.  You waited for him and you two snuck up the astronomy tower where he talked to you all about his family and friends and things he loved most and his worse fears and favorite bands and books.  In return, you spoke of your own family and friends, dream job and deepest secrets. By the end of the night he became one of the people who knew you best, a realization that took you by surprise.

- You two snuck back through the halls, scared of getting caught past curfew but George used every trick in the book to keep you two in the clear.  In the process you two rummaged through empty classrooms and stared at deserted paintings, searching the halls for their inhabitants and whoever found them first gets to dare the other to do something.

- Whenever George won he asked for a kiss on the cheek. Finally, he won on the last painting before you two parted.  He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear, you shivered at the feeling his his breath on your neck as he spoke.  “I dare you... to kiss me like it is the last thing you’d ever do.”

- You stared up at him in shock and soon he grew almost nervous, but then you kissed him so deeply and yet so soft, his entire heart nearly stopped beating.  You truly took his breath away.

- After that night you two snuck around often, and one night you even decided to paint him.  He was awful at staying still but soon you could just paint from memory.  You kept the little painting with you over summer to look at. You two wrote constant letters to one another.

- When he saw you again he kissed you just like you kissed him that one night and left you in a complete daze.  He also brought a stack of annotated books from home for you to read, and in exchange you gave him some of yours.  You two designated one date night to them a month and it was always filled with debates, laughter and ship arguments and agreements.

- He really stepped up his party throwing game after discovering how much you absolutely love them. Seriously, Gryffindor threw some of the best parties during George and your remaining years at Hogwarts.

- He first told you he loved you when he also confessed he no longer wanted to hide away with you. He wanted everyone to know that he was yours, and you were his.  You two were cuddled under the moonlight on the astronomy tower.  You felt his chest heave as a nervous breath shook him and then the words came tumbling out “I love you so bleedin’ much I need the whole word to know it.  I don’t want to hide anymore.”  It took a while of you staring at him for him to find the courage to look at you again.  When he did a smile broke out on his face because you looked so elated and so beautiful.

- You agreed and said you loved him so much.  He nearly cried.  Later that night, he told Fred (who always knew about you, but was the only one) and they did a victory dance in the dorm.  All the other boys threw pillows at them and told them to shut up.

- Whenever he hears a song you might like he rushes to tell you all about it and finds a way to listen to it. You two come up with the more ridiculous dance moves that always leave the two of you doubled over in laughter.

- All his friends and family grew to adore you! 

That’s all folks!  I really hope you liked this!

[wolfcha1k]

Flood and Flame /// Guy x Eep Fanfic

"You're the fire and the flood

And I'll always feel you in my blood

Everything is fine

When your hand is resting next to mine

Next to mine

You're the fire and the flood"

"Something wrong?" Guy inquired.

She shook her head before resting it on his shoulder, getting comfortable. "No, not really," Eep told him, seeing he didn't look convinced despite all she could really see was the curve of his jawline. "What about you? I have a feeling that it's not just itchy feet bothering you tonight." 

Guy and Eep take some time to sort out their feelings, surviving The End of the World itself can take its toll. There's also matters of the heart... /// Guy x Eep /// Post!Croods but before A New Age ///

You can also read it on Ao3 or FF.net here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494047

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13821005/1/Flood-and-Flame

- <3 -

Author's Note: I'm always fascinated by the development of Guy and Eep's relationship that we don't see leading into "A New Age", since they start off rather new to each other. I also like to explore just how the family processed surviving The End since I'd imagine that was a very traumatizing experience. Especially for Eep who had nearly lost both her father and Guy during all that, two people she cares deeply for. So this is a little "what if" into that scenario.

This is also just a little distraction from "A Tomorrow of Our Own" as I sort through my writer's block. I had wanted to post this before Valentine's Day hit but what can you do, can't rush quality. The picture here was drawn by me and I hope you like the story and artwork. Some warning, kinda steamyish near the end, skip right to it or over it, your choice. If it makes anyone feel anything, then I did my job despite my virgin awkward boyfriendless ass feeling differently, haha. Ngl, took me several days just to write the kiss because I got so much second hand embarrassment yall gotta read that.

Eep couldn't sleep but then again, how could you catch a wink after surviving The End of the World itself? Her blood was still pounding in between her ears and it thrummed through her veins. The energy hummed under her skin, desperate to burst alongside the burning that sent her nerves ablaze. It was barely a few short hours ago they'd outlasted certain death. For those short moments, all had seemed lost.

In-between the restless twisting and turning amongst the sleep pile, Eep gave up trying to sleep. The dark around her didn't help matters much, even if Eep prided herself in her courage. She hunted for light all her life, eyes drifting towards the remains of the embers that still glowed upon the ground. It gave little comfort.

Her father's words echoed in her memory, the whole ordeal still fresh as a wound. Never be afraid.

Perhaps it was easier said than done, green gaze finding the hulking mass of fur and muscle that was Grug. She almost lost her father without never telling him she loved him. It haunted her when she waited on the other side of that chasm, bordering The End and waiting for a response she knew was never coming. The anxiety came like an unwelcome stranger, knocking persistently at her skull. Giving a soft frustrated groan, she sat up and crossed her arms.

She looked up at the moon and the night sky that held all the Tomorrows, the sleeping suns shining like beacons of hope. Eep tried laying down again, cuddling close to a nearby snoring mass she assumed was her little brother Thunk. There was Chunky's loud rumbling purr, Gran's thunderous snoring and Ugga's gentle murmuring to seek comfort from. She counted each breath, in and out and shut her eyes… How did the tiger fly? Her voice echoed, reminding her of caves and the canyon that once defined her existence.

And then he stumbled into her life, well, more like she pushed her way into his with persistence rivaling the most stubborn of beasts. He held the sun in his hands and showed her there was more than darkness. She jumped on the sun and rode it to Tomorrow.

Her nerves, taut as a bowstring, nagged for release. Like the tiger in Guy's tale, she was ready to fly.

I gotta move around, she thought. Eep gave one last look at her slumbering family silhouetted in the darkness. Instinct was something she knew innately, it kept her alive.

She wiggled free of the tangled bodies around her, rolling onto her hands and knees. Eep quickly felt the crisp night time chill turn her skin to goose flesh. She shivered, partially regretting the choice to leave the warm safety of the family sleep pile. Her body was too tense for sleep though, reminding Eep of the static feeling the air got before lightning struck.

She shrugged the feeling off and like a cat on the prowl began to creep away from the slumbering clan. Eep made distance and in-between trotting along her knuckles, she sprang up onto the balls of her feet gracefully. Muscles rippling under her tanned skin, she just let loose. The lush green jungle and its many colorful flowers rushed past her in a blur of color. Breaking into a run once Eep knew she was far enough away not to make noise, she relished in the freedom the night brought her. Eep breathed in the air deeply, feeling it expand her lungs and suddenly the cold of it felt good in comparison.

Her feet carried her towards the edge of the jungle, white sand expanding far as the eye could see. The ocean was shining bright, so blue she wondered if it was even real. The moonlight reflecting on the ocean called to her in a whisper yet was loud enough to deafen her ears. Eep wondered perhaps if she dipped her hands into the water she would scoop up a shard of the moon. Eep paused at the edge of the treeline. A familiar scent blew in on the breeze upwind, Eep flaring her nostrils.

Guy, she would recognize his scent anywhere. He smelled of wind and freedom, like innovation and firewood. He was also tinged in ash from The End and the burning scent of the tar he'd been stuck in with her father. It was thick and pungent, making her tense. Again it reminded her how close she had nearly lost everything. Eep without another thought was quick to seek him out, a part of her worried about him being alone out here.

It was silly to worry, there was no danger here now. Besides, Guy had survived alone long before he ever met her and her family. However she couldn't shake it, especially when today she saw him lose hope in that moment. Guy was a dreamer and always knew how to escape the worst of dire situations. Full of ideas that seemed endless, he'd had no solution to when the earth broke into pieces around them. It had broken her heart seeing him like that, all her faith was on him and she'd never thought he could lose that spark.

It didn't make her regret the journey though, she would have always followed him to The Ends of the earth. Despite how short she'd known him, it felt like forever somehow. Were soulmates real? She hoped so.

Come with me.

She found him quickly thanks to her keen sense of smell. Seated on a tall rock on the shore, his back was to her. His knees were curled up to his chest, long arms wrapped around him. Eep crept towards him and he perked at the sound. He turned his head, squinting to see passed the dark. He relaxed when he realized it was not danger, a sigh rattling his thin, lanky frame. His smile could radiate light as he gave her one. It made her insides melt.

"Hey," he greeted, already scooting over to give her a spot on his lonely little ledge.

She didn't hesitate to plop herself next to him, quickly cozying herself into his side. "Hey you," she chirped back.

Guy didn't seem to mind the affection, if anything he was just as eager to meet her half way. He leaned his head comfortably against her temple, breathing in her scent.

"What are you doing up?" Eep asked him after several moments, needing the time to enjoy having him to herself for once. It was one of the first real time being alone together since getting stuck in the canyon.

"Just wanted to explore a bit, I couldn't sleep," he told her, turning his face to nuzzle her cheek. If Eep were a cat, she would have purred at the affection. "What about you?"

"I'm too wound up I think," she said. "I can't sit still for long anyway."

He chuckled fondly, pulling away to look at her. Eep practically whined at the loss of contact, looking into his eyes. "You do have a severe case of wanderlust, I must be contagious."

"Hey, so long as it's not the common cold I'm good."

"I'd never want to make you sick," Guy promised her. "I'm healthy as a horse fly, I swear."

Lovesick seemed to be a fitting description though, Eep batting her eyelashes as she swooned at his affection. He grinned at her.

"How did you find me?" He asked her suddenly, returning to nuzzle the soft skin of her cheek and jaw.

"I sniffed you out," she exclaimed, sounding proud of herself.

"Do I really smell that weird to you?" Guy teased her, gently lifting a finger to boop her on the nose. She went cross eyed, amused.

"A bit, I've gotten used to it though," she teased right back.

He gave her a lopsided boyish smile at that, chuckling low in his throat. Guy made himself more comfortable on his perch on the ledging. Eep watched Guy turn away from her to look towards the sky, his brows furrowed. Something seemed to be on his mind, Eep's curiosity pricked under her skin and she shuffled her weight. Feeling her shift, Guy turned back to her, questioning.

"Something wrong?" Guy inquired.

She shook her head before resting it on his shoulder, getting comfortable. "No, not really," Eep told him, seeing he didn't look convinced despite all she could really see was the curve of his jawline. "What about you? I have a feeling that it's not just itchy feet bothering you tonight."

He sighed, merely cuddling her warm body as he put an arm behind her back. "Bad dream," he confessed at last, looking up at the slumbering suns above them again. Guy's face was solemnly drawn, forlorn as seemed to search the heavens for answers. "Today was a lot."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, mind blanking as she thought back to what had happened just barely a day ago now.

Eep looked at her arm where a fresh wound was, the blood long since dried. She'd gotten it after Grug threw her across the chasm, her bicep had grazed a sharp rock when she landed. Eep had a feeling it would scar, it wasn't like she was scared or ashamed of those though.

This one though felt different, sure, she had survived but it'd been a horrifying day. It was something that would take time to forget and feel pride in.

Guy followed her eyes and gently nudged her, drawing her from her thoughts. "What about you?" He echoed the question. "I know it's not only me who's reflecting."

"What is there really to say?" She shut her eyes, returning to the darkness that had suffocated them in dirt and ash. "I nearly lost my dad." We all almost died.

They fell into a tense silence as both Eep and Guy continued to digest all that they'd experienced today. Guy idly peeled at a piece of dried tar he couldn't wash off successfully with his finger nail. She lifted her head a little and Eep watched him, green eyes flickering between his face and the splotch of black tar.

"I know the feeling," he murmured at last and he hesitated a long moment, steeling himself as he lowered his head. "I… um… I lost my parents when I was a little boy."

Eep drew away to properly look at his face, seeing the old hurt there. He wouldn't look at her, trapped somewhere in his mind she was unable to follow. She reached out to cup his cheek to turn his head towards her, rubbing her thumb tenderly against his face.

He leaned into her touch, lifting his hand to cover hers. He pulled it away slightly in order to press his nose into her calloused palm, a gesture of deep fondness amongst cave people. Did he know that? Eep wondered. It made her ears burn despite the weight of what they were talking about.

"Guy… I'm sorry," she said finally, it was the only thing she could really say. It had been an obvious conclusion for why he was alone, so young yet wise beyond his years. His experience spoke volumes of the world he had to face.

She once couldn't imagine living without her father, no matter how much Grug frustrated and smothered her. After today she knew though at last and it was the worst feeling in the entire universe, no kind of wound she'd ever gotten could come close to comparing to it.

"The tar pit with your dad really picked at an old wound for me," he went on, voice beginning to warble a little. "They had drowned in that stuff. I guess… I guess I wasn't as over it as I thought I was. I can't forget that awful smell, it suffocates you."

Eep didn't think it was a thing you could get over, part of her didn't want to meet the person who had forgotten it that easily. She wasn't sure what to say so instead she wrapped an arm around his waist, hoping her presence would be enough comfort.

"I'm not alone anymore though," Guy continued despite how sad his voice sounded. "I got you and your family now."

"And Belt," she added helpfully and it made him smile a little bit as waned as it was.

"And Belt," he agreed. "I think my family would have wanted me to go on this crazy road trip with you."

"Log ride and all?"

"Maybe sans the log ride," Guy admitted, twisting his face up in a pout. Eep pulled him closer so she could hug him better.

They fell into a companionable silence for a time, listening to the wind as it blew over the beach. Her thoughts wandered again to places she didn't want it to go, that buzzing unused energy beneath her skin returning with a vengeance.

Eep knew thinking about things wasn't going to be helpful for either of them, her gaze jumping between Guy and the ocean. The tide rumbled softly as it eased in and out along the coastline. She tugged on his elbow, gesturing with her head in the direction of the ocean.

"Wanna go for a swim?" Eep asked, knowing the shift in topic would be welcome. They would drown their fears in the water. She idly flexed her muscles in preparation of the activity to come.

His expression lightened despite his eyes still looking sad. It was progress at least. "Yeah, sure," he relented with a small smile.

Eep beamed at him in girlish glee, separating herself from his side to spring to her feet. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" She shot off, leaping off the ledge onto the sand gracefully.

Guy scrambled to rush after her and nearly fell face first off the rock, calling out accusingly, "Hey! That's cheating, Eep!"

"No, you're just a sore loser!" She called back, turning around as she ran backwards a moment. She saw him running as fast as he could, long legs extending forward and back. Eep made it to the shore line and leaped into it in a cannonball, climbing a nearby series of rocks as a kind of diving board.

There was a dark shape distorted on the surface of the water before suddenly it crashed down after her. Eep moved to avoid being crushed and saw it was Guy. He grinned at her, paddling about skillfully. Eep was still learning this whole swimming thing, he was like a swan to water compared to her. They were deep enough that they could see the bottom yet not far enough for it to be a problem returning back above the sea. She swam after him when he went further down, showing her some coral and undersea plants that were eye candy. Some fish swam passed them, their scales rainbowy and glistening in the lowlight.

Her lungs began to burn for air and she could see Guy was beginning to feel the effects too, for he started upwards with a strike of his feet to the sea floor. Eep could see the mottled light shining above her on the water, casting the belly of the sea in an ethereal sort of glow. She kicked her feet down, paddling her way up to the surface with a gasp. She moved a clump of wet hair out of her eyes, grinning when she saw Guy resurfacing next.

She splashed him merrily, Guy lifting his arms in a feeble attempt to protect himself. He swatted water back at her afterwards childishly, Eep giggling as she began to crocopup paddle away from him. Guy followed her, easily cutting her off to dunk her when he grabbed her around the shoulders. Eep sputtered as she resurfaced, seeing the wide mischievous grin on his face.

"Two can play at that game!" Eep declared, sucking in a breath dramatically before diving back down.

She could see Guy's body twist and turn as he attempted to peer down to see what she was doing. Eep swam under him and hefted him onto her shoulders, she heard his surprised gasp as he clutched around her neck for support. She promptly tossed him head over feet before scrambling to the nearby rocks again before he could get her back.

His head popped up above the sealine, Guy wiping his face away the water and spitting salt from his mouth. He looked around for her before his dark eyes found her standing proudly on the rocks.

"What are you doing now?" Guy asked her, swimming near her suspiciously.

"I'm the queen of the rocks!" Eep called out, puffing her chest out. "And you're the dirty dung beetle," she added, her teeth shining from her wide playful smile.

"I'll show you who's the dirty dung beetle," he said, beginning to climb the rocks after her.

Eep pounced to a higher one as he got closer, her balance better than his as she lowered onto all fours. "You gotta try harder than that to dethrone me, Guy."

Guy scrambled on the wet slippery stones but found his balance before he could plummet back into the ocean. He got to her perch and the two of them began to wrestle for the spot, Eep getting him into a headlock as his arms went around her torso.

He attempted to shove her with all his might, looking rather pathetic as he went red in the face from exertion. "You're like a rock!"

"Complimenting me won't get you anywhere!" She shifted her weight, ready to throw him.

He saw an opening and Guy swept his leg against hers, forcing her to stumble as her foot slid from underneath her. Suddenly, Eep lost her footing and yelping out loud began to fall. She didn't release him, if she was going down he was going down with her. Guy gave a similar shout and the two crashed in a heap into the water.

He let go of her and Eep loosened her grip from around his neck as the two swam back to the surface, gasping for air. Eep pulled him up with her, arms loosely draped on his shoulders and back. Guy had a sopping mop of hair drooping over his forehead and eyes, his smile wide. "I win."

"That was hardly a fair victory," Eep accused him without any real bite, lightly kicking his leg. "You fought dirty!"

"You're just a sore loser," he teased her, echoing what she'd called him earlier.

She just huffed, floating there with him. She looked at his face, amused. He looked so funny with his hair covering most of his face, it reminded her of the shaggy mop sabrebunnies had. She was suddenly hyper aware of how close together they were, his face nearly touching hers as his breath came out huffing. She could feel it fan her lips and a chill that wasn't just the cold this time made her shiver. His torso pressed against hers, their knees touching and chests close together.

It reminded her of when they'd set the trap together back in the tundra with the weird rocks. They had gotten tangled together like this before, faces touching and limbs ensnared tightly. This time there was no turkeyfish or Grug to break the tension.

She swallowed, her throat felt tight. Guy brushed aside the hair from his eyes, his laughter stilled and the smile on his face fell away slowly. His eyes fell to her lips for a moment. He suddenly realized their position but he made no move to pull away.

"Eep?"

She felt like she had butterflies inside her stomach yet somehow it didn't seem to matter at all right now. Eep only wanted to hear him say her name again like that, softly and wrapped with warmth. Only he could make her name sound like one of the most beautiful things in the world.

"Yeah, Guy?" It took her a moment for her brain to catch up to reply, she wondered if she sounded as breathless as she felt.

He was quiet, a seriousness she wasn't quite used to seeing when she thought of Guy. He was usually so goofy and strange, in a good way, of course. It was easier on her nerves though when he was stammering and a little nervous of her. Now she was the one feeling a little frightened but she also couldn't care less about that right now. It was a fear that reminded her of when she tried something new, nervous energy that fell away into satisfaction when it proved her fears wrong.

"I think I love you," he confessed after hesitating, needing to collect his thoughts. His words were soft and gentle, the fondness there even without him directly telling her. They came out of nowhere practically, yet it just felt right. Guy gauged her expression which must have been surprised because he reached for her hand as it trembled. "Are you okay?"

"It's just the cold," she mumbled with a sheepish look, attempting to ignore the gooseflesh erupting across her skin. Eep smiled.

He seemed as nervous as she was, resting her palm on his chest and covering her hand entirely. His heart was thundering under her fingers and he shivered. She felt it through her hand and arm, Eep blinked at him with concern. "Just the cold," Guy murmured back with a small grin.

"My heart feels like that too," she chuckled, shutting her eyes tight as she sucked in a deep breath. "Is that normal?"

"Yeah, it is," Guy assured her, squeezing her hand with a gentleness she wasn't accustomed to. Used to rough handling, it was something she was still adjusting to. "Least I think so. I've never… felt like this before."

"Okay," Eep murmured. "Hey, um, can I…?"

"Can you…?" He encouraged her softly.

She decided it was easier to just do it than elaborate what she wanted because something about it felt too intense to put into her voice. She forgot what words were but that was okay, they seemed unneeded. Not thinking was becoming easier, Eep closed the distance between them, not that there was much left to begin with anyway. She pressed her forehead against his, holding her breath as she waited for his reaction. He was so warm, his breath stuttering against her lips at the contact.

He was tense under her touch for a moment before relaxing, brushing his nose against hers as he tilted his head at a more comfortable angle. His touch thrilled her, a feeling she'd never experienced before until meeting him. Nobody had ever touched her like this, vulnerable and intimate. It was a long drawn out moment, Eep hearing the soft exhale of his breath.

"You need to breathe, Eep," Guy reminded her in a low voice.

"Oh," she managed to say, sounding rather pathetic as she let it out.

Guy nuzzled his nose against hers, brow against brow. "I like this."

Eep found what she wanted to say again, pressing her palm against his heart. His fingers tightened around hers. His pulse raced under her, pounding like thunder in a storm. It fueled her resolve and gave her relief that her feelings weren't something fleeting. It wasn't just because Guy was new that he fascinated her endlessly, her feelings ran deeper than that. "I... I think I love you too, Guy."

There was a hitch in his voice. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They breathed together for what felt like forever, his breath fanning her face. Guy moved, she felt it in the water around them. Eyes still closed, they widened when she felt the gentle press of something against her lips. His fingers brushed along her jawline tenderly, tilting her head further. A rush of heat made her skin feel more alive than it ever had before, touched by sunlight and fire all at once. It burned her blood and pounded in between her ears. His mouth moved against hers, each movement making her heart skip a beat. He pulled the slightest bit away, lips hovering above hers. His chest heaved a bit as he caught his second wind, Eep realized she was just as bad. It felt like the rush she got from hunting or when he taught her something new, invigorating and alive. Guy seemed to be waiting for something, what that something was, Eep wasn't sure.

A shiver ran down her spine despite how warm her entire body felt, Eep gathered her resolve. She leaned back towards him, hesitating for a heartbeat before tentatively closing the distance between them. He pulled her closer, which was somewhat difficult due to being in the water. He let go of her hand to tangle his fingers in her hair, Eep stroking the indentation between his pectorals. He trembled like a leaf under her touch as it roved over his skin, her hands moving from his chest to his shoulders, kneading the sinewy muscle there. His hand gently stroked the slope of her neck and down her muscular back, tracing scars in a awed sort of way, like she was precious.

She felt the soft flicker of his tongue against her lower lip and she couldn't help but startle, pulling back the slightest breath away. He didn't chase after her lips, just shut his eyes and breathed out a long, drown out exhale like he was pained. Her face leaned closer to his again and shyly she copied him, gliding her tongue along his lip to show her what he wanted.

And show her he did, tentative and gentle as always when he sensed her hesitation. He would never push her, though once Eep found her courage, she turned the tides on him with her typical ferocity. Guy gave a sound that was nearly a growl, thrilling her. She'd never been wanted before, her palm cradling his cheek. Her other arm went to wrap around his neck as his hand fell to squeeze her waist. He gripped the furs at her hips, pulling her closer yet still feeling too far away. She wanted him closer, like prey being hunted she felt cornered but it was exciting. Emotions she never knew before raged within her, Eep couldn't help but whimper against his lips as they spiraled down.

He paused, pulling away at the sound to take in her flushed face. His chest heaved, Eep feeling it more so than hearing it now. "Are you okay? I'm um… sorry." Guy was suddenly sheepish.

"I think I forgot how to breathe," she said between breaths, exhilarated.

He swallowed thickly, gathering his wits as he gently pushed her away. "Me too." The words seemed to remind him what was at stake here, that there was more than the burning in their blood.

The distance helped her heart time to finally stop its frantic beating. It found itself a much more manageable rhythm, one that thankfully didn't make her feel like she was dying. She caught her breath, lifting her hand out of the water to see it was pruned. "Wow," she mumbled, surprised.

"We've been in the water too long," he said, looking at his own fingers. "I think I'm actually cold now." Guy shivered, teeth chattering for a second.

Eep giggled with a sheepish grin. "Me too."

Guy began making his way towards the shoreline, padding through the water. Eep followed him as she crocopup paddled. Once they reached the soft white sand, the couple flopped together on their backs. Eep wiggled into his side, curling up into a ball. With the warmth of the sun gone, there wasn't much of a way to chase off the chill.

He wrapped an arm around her, rolling onto his side to get closer. "We can't stay here, you know," he mumbled into her hairline.

"Too cold, don't care," she rebutted. "Make me warm."

Guy chuckled, pulling his hands away despite her whining protest. He blew hot air into his palms and rubbed her chilled skin vigorously. They stayed like that for a moment, trading body heat until the cool night air on their skin felt tolerable. Eep pushed herself to her elbows after pulling away, gazing at the sky. Guy followed her eyes towards the sleeping suns.

"I'll never get tired of seeing this," Eep said aloud, turning to face Guy. He finally sat up, draping his arms over his knees as he crossed his legs.

"Me either," he said, relishing the beautiful sight. "I've followed each sun for so long," Guy continued, closing his eyes with a peaceful look on his face. He turned to face her, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. The fondness in his dark eyes made her feel shy, something she hadn't known she could be. "They lead me to you."

"I should thank them," Eep decided, getting to her feet. She stretched her arms above her head, hands attempting to reach for the moonlight. "Thank you, Tomorrow!" She called out, smirking at Guy who laughed.

He found his legs, standing up next to her. "Yeah!" He shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth so the sound carried. "Thank you!"

She giggled, giddy as she pressed into his side. He rested his head against hers, grabbing her hand to affectionately smooth his thumb over her knuckles. Guy raised her hand to his lips after, placing a featherlight kiss on each finger. "Your dad would so kill me right now," he mumbled against her skin.

"I won't let him," she quipped, practically glowing in her warmth. "Though, he might hunt you down if we don't go back to bed."

"Yeah," he sighed, sounding reluctant as he let her hand go. Eep instantly missed the warm of his calloused palm and fingers around it. "We probably should."

"We can still take advantage of the sleep pile though," she said with a slow grin, hands behind her back coyly.

He copied her expression, keen on the sneaky plan. "Not like Grug can really lecture us, everyone moves like an earthquake in there."

She toed the ground, shaking her head with a snort. "Yeah." Eep nudged his shoulder and looped her arm through his. "C'mon, it's late and I think I'm worn out enough to sleep now."

Guy nodded his agreement, seeming to suppress a yawn suddenly as he muffled his mouth. "Yeah, I'm all adventured out." He gave her a sly little look, Eep innocently blinking up at him as if not knowing what he was insinuating. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Anytime," she quipped.

They began to make their way away from the beach and into the jungle, hearing the snores of the slumbering family through the thick foliage. Eep tugged Guy down besides her to practically curl around him. Guy wrapped an arm around her waist, shimmying into a more comfortable position before sighing. Eep closed her eyes with a low hum, listening to the soft beating of Guy's heart.

She felt something soft press against her forehead, a kiss, she realized. She idly kissed the spot where his heart was in response, lovingly without a word but he knew its meaning. His breath hitched a little and he tugged her closer.

She was asleep faster than she thought possible, content and cozy…

Of course the awakening was less so when morning came, a disgruntled and shrill sound reached her ears. Yup, everything seemed back to normal, its natural balance. Guy could do nothing more besides retreat away as the familiar broad form of Grug seemed ready to skewer him with a nearby branch he grabbed. Of course he had assumed the worst, having awoken to see Guy's body draped over Eep's, pinning her beneath his weight

"Belt!" Guy shouted as he pelted off into the forest, ducking and weaving.

But the sloth only raised his long arms in a sweeping dramatic gesture. "Dun, dun, dun!"

"Ah, young love," Gran crooned, resting her fist on her chin as Eep got up to go save her boyhog. "I doubt he will kill him, we still need his fire."

Fire indeed, Eep thought with a burning blush.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Six: Sensory Integration 2

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: It’s a fine night for a walk by the water with a handsome vet holding your hand. I think that says it all.

Behind on your sessions? Want more from the author? Click Me

Word Count: Almost 1.9k (a bit shorter, hopefully y’all don’t mind by the end!)

Warnings: Basically still fluff, but also some saucy morsels near the end…not full on smut, though, so don’t get too excited. We aren’t there yet, my little lovelies. Soon, though…soon.

Author’s Note: As I said before, this date totally got away from me, nearing a whopping 6k in total. Thanks again for all the love. And in other news, I told a couple of my PT friends about this story, and one of them agreed to be my official technical consultant on the project for future chapters and even if I wanna flesh it out, modify it to include strictly “original” characters, and eventually take it to a publisher! I sent what I’ve done so far to her just before I started drafting this post, so hopefully she’ll have good insight for me! She said it was about time someone wrote a story like that! Lol! (She reads  a lot, so I guess people really don’t think of PTs as the heroines of love stories. Sad, really! Most of the ones I know are lovely and loving people!) The other was just instantly excited and can’t wait to read it.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although...their lackadaisical notification system might...sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

The lake was fairly near her clinic, not two blocks away. He wasn't wrong about her feeling up to a walk when the time came. She was looking forward to the fresh night air near the lake. It was a deep-seated part of who she was to love the water.

He'd pulled into the small, empty gravel lot at the head of the paved walking trail. It was well dark since it had just turned 10:00, and the moonlight danced off the water, calm, but with a faint shimmer from the light breeze. The stars danced, winking at them as if they knew the romance that surged between the couple was burgeoning right here below them.

"Now, last time I walked this trail, I'll warn you…I got approached by a gang. And they were…pretty vicious. I had to resort to some guerilla tactics that I'm not too proud of to fend 'em off."

"Oh no!" she wasn't aware of any gang crime in their fairly peaceful city! "What kind of gang?"

"A goose gang." He looked at her gravely. Before they both burst out laughing in hysterics.

"I thought you were serious!" she wiped tears carefully from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I was! They are stupid territorial! I had several of them tryin'a bite at my legs at once. It was quite the ordeal, I assure you!" he said, serious, but still laughing.

"Well, you'll save me if the Ya-Gooz-ah descend on us tonight, wont you?" she teased, clutching at his arm in mock fright at the thought of a band of Yakuza Geese being an actual thing, but thinking it was a great way to keep him touching her.

"As long as you stay real close to me, sunshine. I'll protect you from the devil himself." He kissed her on the top of the head, sealing the promise and warming her from the point of contact all the way to her toes.

As they traipsed along the pavement path, they talked about everything and nothing, the gentle night wind a whisper against their skin, which had been made slightly dewy from the walk and the humidity. They had made two laps around the small body of water when they came back around to one of several benches placed at intervals on the trail running its perimeter. Without breaking their conversation, she pointed to the nearest one, indicating her desire to sit, which he understood and lead them there.

“See, the problem I have with sports at that level, especially football is the harm I’ve witnessed it do to a kid’s body. We’ve treated athletes in high school and as early as 7th and 8th grade that the coaches are completely obsessed with getting them out on the field or court again. These kids are taking more impact than their bodies are ready for. They can’t miss a game, or even practice for therapy even if they’re just riding pine. And the parents are so laser focused on that potential college scholarship for that sport that they can’t see that if their child doesn’t get better, no scout is gonna want to dole out a free ride. Not to a broken-down athlete. Did you feel that kind of pressure when you were playing football? Because I don’t remember it at my school.” She went off a on bit of a tangent because she’d just been told by Heather before she left that her torn meniscus, Jason couldn’t get in for several weeks because of his practice and game schedule limiting his availability.  

“I mean, I felt pressure, I guess, but not outside of practice or the games. I’d hurt my knee my junior year early, same one we been workin’ on, and they just had me sit out a few weeks and work with a PT, but I don’t remember it being a problem to miss out on anything related to football if it was because of my health.” He sat down next to her on the fiberglass bench, which was molded to have the look of fine blonde wood, and put his arm around her shoulder. No pretense of the reach, no awkwardly sitting for a while beforehand, just continuing to touch her as he had been their whole walk.

She leaned into his shoulder, comfortably, as if they’d done this a thousand times and this wasn’t their first date. And continued their discussion.

“What has gotten into people these days? It’s like they’re not satisfied with anything. Nothing is ever enough for a single person on this good earth!” She sighed, frustrated by the neediness of people that seemed to come with her own job and projecting that on to the world…not that there wasn’t at least a measure of truth in it.

“Personally speaking, I think you’re wrong.”

“You don’t think that the world is full of dissatisfied Karens?” She laughed.

“Oh I do. But it’s not every person. You’re sitting next to one very content man right here.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He confirmed.

“Was it the steak, or the lobster mac?” She’d be fantasizing about them both until the next time they went there. Yeah, she was already thinking about “next time” and “they.” She was in trouble.

“Not to knock either, but I’m a hun’ert percent sure it was the company.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

She smiled, nuzzling into him, feeling the downy softness of his shirt again and smelling his intoxicating cologne. She suddenly remembered a promise from their session.

“Oh, hey. I was gonna have a response for you…to your 'question' from earlier.” She said, mischief burning in her eyes. She kneeled up on the bench and turned his face to hers, brushing a hand against his impossibly soft beard before descending slowly in for a kiss.

It started sweet, a few languid, full pecks, then she parted her lips barely enough for her tongue to venture out to explore his full mouth. They were met after several attempts with a reciprocal openness from him. She dared, then to search him with her tongue. It was simply browsing now. Feeling no rush to complete its quest. Only a sense of the need for due diligence. She was surprised at the flavor she'd encountered. She hadn't seen him pop a mint, and she hadn't left his side all evening. He was sly. It was a sweet and strong taste. Wintergreen on steroids, with the mildest hint of vanilla. She wanted more. Of the flavor. Of him.

She let her tongue find his, knowing what would happen, somehow, even though they had never kissed like this before. Never when it wasn't rushed and needing to be…PG. Here in the dark of night, with no one but the celestial bodies as witnesses, they didn't have to worry about her job, or the public. The judgement of the outsider's gaze.

She knew, by instinct alone, that this would spark him into more than latent participation. And that's exactly why she did it. As previously stated, she was definitely an intentional beast when the occasion called and mood struck.

He did as she'd expected, his own tongue waking, beginning a playful dance with hers, exploring her mouth with more urgency and desire, pulling a ragged gasp from her lungs. She broke away to give some attention to his neck. She held him by the base of his head, thumb playfully brushing into his thick facial hair. A breathy moan that sounded very much like her name escaped his lips. This was the reaction she had been dying to get from him for so long. A surrendering bliss that only came from this kind of personal, intimate, and one-one connection. She'd gotten hints of it when she'd helped him stretch, when she heard those stifled groans he felt at the good hurt she brought him with her expert touch.

She bit his earlobe, and sealed her fate. He growled and pulled her up to his lap in an immodest straddle. Not that she cared in the empty dark. He seemed to need her lips back on his, desperate to find a purchase that would never present itself. The paradox of a kiss.

His hands roved over the back of her from neck to behind, very much favoring the latter. It was an odd sensation. Most of her experience with ass-grabbing had been less than pleasant. Either dirty old men had touched her without consent, or boyfriends had done essentially the same thing as a show of their dominance over her, also without her strictest consent. The way Sy held her was tender, exploratory, and…she couldn't help but think the word loving. "Love" wasn't a word they were ready to even bring up. But she thought he was showing it in his feather touch and hungry kiss.

The breeze was cool, and felt extra cold where she seemed to be warmest. Her position had her…very exposed to the elements, covered only by the fine layers of her underwear at some angles. She was suddenly very aware that they were on a precipice here. If they carried on much longer like this, she wasn't going to want to stop. She already didn't. And she was just out of practice enough to be unsure of where her point of no return was. Dammit. She broke away, in agony from it.

"Sy, I…I think …you should take me back." she stuttered.

"Okay." he pulled her back in for another kiss, pretending to misinterpret,which she indulged a moment but quickly escaped.

"No, sweetie." she chuckled. "You know what I mean."

"Or…I could bring you home with me." It was only a suggestion, but there was a plea in his eyes that pulled at her guts. He wanted her. And she wanted him. With every single cell in her body, she wanted every singe cell of his. But she truly felt that taking things slowly was the best option given the complexities of their situation.

"You don't know how badly I want to accept that invite, Sy." she rested her forehead on his. They were both breathless.

"It's just two little letters, sunshine. O. K. Easy as granny's peach pie."

"I'm terrible at pie crust." they laughed.

"Let's go." he said, helping her off his lap, and preparing to stand, but sitting back down immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Is it the knee? Did I hurt it?" she was already mad at herself, and at him a bit, if this indiscretion had caused him a setback…how ironic it would be!

"Nope, knee's great. Dandy."

"Did you get lightheaded?"

"No, but uhh…it's definitely SOME sort of blood flow issue. Gonna need a minute." he explained without explaining with a sheepish expression on his face…it hit her like a speeding bus.

"Ope." she looked to his lap without thinking, and immediately averted to the water again, as she sat beside him, hands clasped over the seat of the bench. His hand found hers, and covered it, asking to hold it, and getting its way.

"I had…the best time tonight, Shane." he told her, staring at the opposite bank where the maple, oak, and sycamore trees swayed to the tune of the gentle night's breeze.

"So did I, Sy."

"You free tomorrow?" he asked, hopefully.

"You tell me!" she replied…hopefully.

Up Next: Chapter Seven: Non-Productive Time

[e-of-west-glendia]

Wishful Thinking (Part 3)

I would highly recommend reading Part 1 & Part 2 before you read this one! But for everyone else, here is the third and final part of Wishful Thinking.

*********

The party was stifling, filled to the brim with chattering people and loud music. Everyone drunk on firelight and laughter. It was long past midnight and the party was in full swing. They were celebrating that afternoons Quidditch win. They’d beat Ravenclaw 210 to 30.

Sirius had always been one for parties. He lived off of the carefree joy and cheap thrills they provided. Tonight was no exception. His arm was slung around James’ shoulders, one hand reaching up to ruffle his already impossibly messy hair, while with the other clutched a bottle. He couldn’t remember what kind of alcohol was in it. Scotch? Whiskey? Fire Whiskey? Who knows, he’d grabbed the first thing he’d seen off the table and popped it open.

Besides, that was the least of his concerns. Currently he was more worried about being heard over all the noise.

“I can’t believe we actually won!” Sirius shouted in James’ ear.

“Did you really doubt my abilities as a Chaser?” James asked, cocky as ever.

Sirius paused for a moment, tilting his head back and squinting at the ceiling. “Ummmmm…”

James shoved him off. “Oh fuck off, you. You knew full well that we’d win. Their seeker was out and we all know the backup is shit.”

Sirius chuckled, amused by his friend's indignation. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed to be commentator if you thought we’d lose.”

“Nah, mate, I still would’ve. I’d never pass up the chance to watch you make a fool of yourself in front of Evans. Oh...wait, that’s everyday!”

James scowled at him and flipped him two fingers, which in turn made Sirius laugh harder.

“It was a group effort, remember?” Sirius said, chasing after James who was doing his best to get away from him. “I couldn’t have done it without Marlene.”

“Without Marlene?” A flutter of red and gold fabric drifted by his eyes and wrapped around his waist.

Sirius spun around, grin widening when he saw Marlene. She was dressed from head to toe in Gryffindor colors, blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Several banners had magically wrapped themselves around her, looping over her shoulders and trailing behind her.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Classy.”

“Wearable.” Marlene corrected. “I heard my name?”

Sirius nodded. “I was just chatting with James over here— where’d he go?” Sirius looked around him. At some point between Marlene’s arrival and the present moment James had disappeared.

“Huh, guess he skipped out on me. Anyways, we were just talking about how we’d have stayed commentators even if we thought our team would lose. Purely for the purpose of making fun of James.”

Marlene snorted. “Never did take criticism well, did he?”

“Nope, never.”

The pair grinned at each other, shared memories of their friends passing between them.

Finally Marlene said, “It’s been quite a night hasn’t it? I lost track of Lily and Dorcas ages ago. Quite honestly I’m surprised McGonagall hasn’t shut us down yet, think she knows?”

Sirius nodded fervently, mind a bit distracted as he said, “Oh she definitely knows. Minnie has a sort of sixth sense for when parties occur. I figure it’ll be another hour or two before she comes up here. Say, have you happened to see Remus or Peter?”

He’d seen some of his friends throughout the night, but since Marlene mentioned it he couldn’t recall having seen them for a while. Sirius scanned the room, eyes falling over kissing couples and every manner of dancing. No sign of his friends.

Marlene shook her head. “Not for a while. Last I saw of Peter he was by the snacks and Remus was with Lily.”

Sirius nodded, still searching. “Right...what direction was Lily in again?”

“I dunno, you’d have to look for her.” Marlene tugged lightly at Sirius’ wrist. “Come on, come dance with me.”

As fun as that sounded, Sirius found that he was struck with the sudden urge to know where his friends were. Specially Remus.

“I think I should find Remus first. Although, I’m sure your girlfriend would love to.”

“Fuck off, Sirius.” Marlene said, with a glare. “I’m not dating Dorcas.”

“Mind as well be.”

Marlene snatches the bottle out of Sirius’ hand. “What’s in this?”

“Not a clue.”

“Of course not. I’d say your best bet to finding Remus would be Lily. She’s pretty good at keeping tabs on people.”

Sirius nodded, starting to move away from Marlene. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem. You owe me 20 galleons by the way,” she called after him.

“What on earth for?”

“A bet.”

“Which one?”

Marlene laughed, throwing him a wink over her shoulder and raising the bottle. “You’ll figure it out. Cheers.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd. Sirius shook his head, shouldering through people in search of Lily.

He finally found her sitting in one of the chairs near the fire. “Have you seen Remus,” Sirius asked, leaning over the head of the chair.

Lily twisted around in her seat and sent him a reproachful look. “Were you trying to sneak up on me?”

“Sorry.”

Lily’s glare didn’t fade, but she pointed towards the portrait hole. “He said something about fresh air. Party was getting a bit much for him.”

Sirius looked towards the portrait hole, he had an idea as to wear Remus had gone.

“Thanks Lily.”

“No problem. Now leave me alone and try not to scare anymore unsuspecting women, Black.”

Sirius walked around the chair, stepping over bits of broken glass. “Will do, Evans.”

*******

Remus was in the Astronomy tower. The cold air and starlight a nice break from the chaos of Gryffindor tower. He hasn’t expected to be out there for that long, but he’d gotten lost in scenery and the smell of pine trees and magic.

That was the first thing he’d noticed when he first came to Hogwarts, how it smelled. The scent of trees mingled with the pleasant burn of magic. All perfectly in sync with the mysterious air the ancient castle and its surrounding forest gave off.

The air up in the tower was somehow crisper. Different from the dusky smoke and polished wood smell of Gryffindor’s tower. From up here he could see almost all of the grounds. Slightly eerie in their silence, the forest a dark warning against the starlit sky.

He could also had a spectacular view of the moon from here, or at least what he was able to see of it every month. His relationship with the moon was a curious one, marred by contempt for the pain it caused him, and yet filled with an insatiable need to be closer to it. It truly was odd how much people wanted what they couldn’t have.

So many stories were told in its light. Moon-drunk kisses on dark piers and secrets exchanged under the cover of silent alleys, only the moon to guide them under a starless sky.

Remus remembered standing on the railing one night. Everyone in the dorm had been asleep except Remus. The full had been coming up and with it came a lack of sleep. He’d come up here to stare at the moon, his own silent war. He’d never intended to climb on the rail, his arm wrapped around a pillar so that he didn’t slip. It was an odd response to curiosity, putting yourself on the brink of death. He remembered briefly wondering what would happen if he fell. Would the moon catch him? Finally giving back to him a life it had spent so long taking?

Even now he wondered about it sometimes. Staring upwards as he leaned against the rail, resting his body’s weight on his arms.

Remus head the footsteps before the person even got up the stairs. Soft and light from years of sneaking out in the dead of night. Sirius.

Remus turned and sure enough, there he was. Sirius Black. Almost ethereal in the halo of the moonlight. Wrapped in his trademark leather jacket, strands of midnight black hair whipping around his face.

“Thought I’d find you up here,” Sirius said, joining him at the rail.

“You thought correctly.” Remus winced internally, he wasn’t sure how more standoffish he could get.

“Lily told me you wanted to get away from the crowd,” Sirius started turning to look at him.

“She’s not wrong,” Remus said. Apparently he could get much more standoffish.

“Do you want me to leave?” Sirius asked, he tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ear. Glaring at it as he did.

Remus shook his head. “No. No, stay.”

Sirius nodded. “Ok.”

Remus watched him for a moment. This boy that he’d been in love with for longer than he could remember or cared to admit. He couldn’t imagine a world without Sirius Black. He couldn’t imagine his world without Sirius Black. Remus remembered what Lily had said about him never being able to drive his friends away.

“I know and you won’t. No matter what happens between you guys, you’ll always still have each other. I might not be fond of your idiot friends but I do know that deep down— very deep down, they’re good people. Loyalty is everything to those morons, they wouldn’t trade your guy’s friendship for the world.”

But I’m still scared, Remus thought. Scared of losing everything and everyone leaving. Scared of being left behind.

Then he remembered the dandelion. That small seed carrying a dream away on the wind. Remus knew that the first step towards making a wish come true, was doing something to help it along. Staying silent wouldn’t do anything, it never did. And Lily was rarely wrong about people, she might not be wrong about Sirius.

Remus took a deep breath, mentally kicking himself as he turned to Sirius. “I made a wish the other day.”

Sirius looked up. “A wish?”

“Yeah, Lily was reminding me of this muggle superstition that dandelions grant wishes.”

Sirius grinned at him, grey eyes crinkling in amusement. “Oh yeah? And what did you wish for?”

“For the person I like to like me back,” Remus replied, slowly. He was honestly surprised that his voice was still working.

Instantly the amusement dropped from Sirius’ face. It was replaced by a passive, slightly melancholy look. If Remus didn’t know any better he’d think he looked...disappointed?

“Well, did it come true?” Sirius had turned away from Remus, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

The few moments that followed had to be some of the longest of Remus’ life. Sirius had turned back towards him, those grey eyes flickering with a thousand emotions. Remus was seriously beginning to reconsider not throwing himself off the tower when he’d had the chance.

“What,” Sirius breathed.

“I..er—“

“Did you just...ask me out?” Sirius asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” Remus said, more question than answer.

For a second they just stared at each other, unmoving. Then, Sirius pulled Remus forward, tugging his head down and pressing their lips together.

And all of a sudden Remus understood why people liked the moon. How it could seem so beautiful in moments like these.

Finally they broke apart, Sirius’ arms still wrapped Remus’ shoulders.

“That was…unexpected,” Remus mumbled.

Sirius laughed lightly, “Sorry...I just never expected you to…” be trialed off.

“How long?” Remus asked. “How long have you—“

“Years,” Sirius finished. “Since third, at least.”

“I— yeah, me too.”

Suddenly Sirius broke off into laughter, leaning against a pillar to keep from falling down.

“What?” Remus asked, mildly alarmed.

“Nothing—nothing it’s just something that James said. I finally understand what he was laughing at me about.”

Remus was beyond confused but he decided not to ask.

Instead he asked, “so what now?”

Sirius stopped laughing and smiled at him. It was a look of pure adoration. Pure adoration and love. He looked beautiful, absolutely beautiful, Remus thought.

“Now, I think your wish gets granted,” Sirius said, and then he pulled him back into another kiss. A million thoughts were racing through Remus mind, but the most prominent one was: I guess sometimes, wishes do come true.

******

Special thanks to @sirrriusblack for giving me the idea for this trilogy in the first place and for helping come up with ideas for part 3. Again, thank youuuuu!!!

(Aaannnddd that concludes this mini series!)

[reylofanfictionanthology]

For one is love and both are one in love is now live!  

Authors will be revealed next week!  For now all fics are anonymous.  Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21.  We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

For one is love and both are one in love collection on AO3 |  Gift Fic Master Post Part Two | Treats Masterpost

Gifts Fic Master Post Part One:

ghosts on the shore for aaronBursar

“I meant what I said to you that day on the Death Star. I thought I could never go back. I still think it even now—that I don’t belong here, that I never will.” “But you did come back,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re here now. With me. You chose it. Despite everything, we made it, both of us.” They sat in silence for awhile, hands clasped while they watched the camp clear as people finally turned in for the night. Then, suddenly, Ben was struck with an idea. “What if we took a trip?”

Sugar High for abbytheatre08

When Maz Kanata hosts five weeks of a Battle of the Bands competition, Rey Johnson and Kylo Ren find themselves both pitted against one another, and drawn together as the weeks go on.

Delayed For A While for aionimica

Death cannot stop love. All it can do is delay it awhile.

I am ready to follow you even though I don't know where for AlwaysEverlark

Her closest friends want Rey to move on from what happened on Exegol, but she refuses to accept that Ben Solo, her soulmate in the Force, is dead. Instead, she undertakes a rescue mission to bring Ben home--no matter the risk.

A More Perfect Union for america_oreosandkitkats

Rey, new to DC, tags along to a stuffy networking event with her friend -- they're both poor and, hell, there's free booze. Ben, a recruiter for the lobbyist firm he works for, finds the intern with the soft voice and angry eyes a fun challenge -- especially when he finds out she works for his estranged mother Senator Leia Organa.

In the Den of the Darkwolf for Amy326

Rey awakened in the darkwolf’s den.

happy cockus day for andabatae

She prefers the nip of New Hampshire winters, heavy winds blowing in her hair, being bundled up in three layers with pens whose ink freeze fast and thaw slow. She loves warm buildings, and Christmas breaks, and slurping down huge bowls of ramen in the evenings, but being on the ground, a clipboard in her hand, boots on a voter’s doorstep? That’s where she knows she belongs. So there are a lot of things going against Rey Johnson’s introduction to Ben Solo, his moody personality probably the least of her worries, since he’s the reason she’s not outside, making some sort of tangible effort to get his mother elected as president.

Hope Lives for aNerdObsessed

This AU story takes place right after the Battle of Exegol, Rey and Ben have just defeated Palpatine and they are both seriously injured but not mortally wounded. When all hope is lost for them as there is no one coming to get them, old friends of the past come to their aid.

Two Bits (or The Haircut) for Ann3onymous

Three days into their marriage of convenience, Ben and Rey are maybe starting to realize that there’s more to this arrangement than a green card or a cooperative board of directors.

We've Got a Good Thing Here for Anysia

Rey & Ben Solo navigate their feelings in the aftermath of the end of the war. With Ben a "functionally dead" force ghost, Rey has to come to terms with how she will balance restoring liberty to the galaxy and making her relationship with Ben work in a... physical sense. It's a difficult enough task to begin with, and it doesn't help that every time they're alone someone seems to require Rey for something.

Event Horizon for Apisa_B

Rey runs into Kylo Ren on a mission for the Resistance, and they have to work together against their wishes. This would be simple... if working together didn't involve pretending to be married, sharing a hotel room, and a lot of unresolved feelings.

still caught in yesterday's wake for Apricot

Her heart is heavy with fear—fear that one day she will no longer be able to recall the shape of Ben’s face, or the timbre of his voice, or the exact color of his eyes; that her memory of him will fade until she is left with nothing but the pain of his absence, like some phantom limb that aches and aches and aches, relentlessly.

A Dark Day Dream for ArdeaJestin

Ben's come home, but Rey can't face him. Not because of anything he's done, at least not in real life. But in her fantasies? oh yes.

Become Who You Were Meant to Be for Aurae

Kylo is a fighter both by training and by preference. Tactics, not strategy. Action, not discussion. Every instinct in him wants to solve his problems by grabbing his sword and shedding some blood. But those easy days are behind him now. He has a galaxy to run. It would be easier if only he could stop thinking about her.

The Spaces Inbetween for Ayrith (freijya)

It wasn’t the first time. Not the first since Crait and she saw him kneeling and their eyes met with anger and ache and want and everything else they didn’t have to say. No. Not the first, nor the second, nor even the third. This was a well trodden path that they all walked over and over. As if the Force was taking their hands and despite both of them tearing it away, still trying to bring them together. --- Rey and Kylo have been dealing with the Force bond for some time, but it finally reaches a tipping point.

The Least Of What I Could Do for benperor-ren (winterelf86)

"I refuse to play opposite someone who has never had a part in their entire life," sneers Ben. "Either Rey goes or I do."

Niima's for bensolosredemption

Though Niima's is a questionable establishment, it's always been Ben's favorite bar. It's not just because he's inexplicably attracted to the new bartender, either - though he has to admit she might have something to do with it.

Devil Spawn for Biekewieke

After a hot anonymous encounter at The Annual Organa Halloween Ball, Rey realizes she slept with the horrible guy who is her new boss. But he doesn't recognize her! And he asks her to track down his mystery hookup, which she totally agrees to do (wink wink, haha, she's lying). But then she finds out she's pregnant! GASP! What's a scared, pregnant single girl to do? (Other than take a nap because she's exhausted.)

Belonging for bitterbones

Friends-with-benefits except whoops I'm in love with you now and hate seeing you flirt with other people because we're technically not together.

Paradise for bittersnake

For two people whose souls are inseparably united, the question of sex shouldn't be that complicated. Given Ben and Rey's individual histories, however, it really comes as no surprise. But that's all right. They’ll have their whole lives together to figure it out, if Rey and Ben and possibly several hundred generations’ worth of Jedi ghosts have anything to say about the matter. Which they do.

Miss Johnson & the Professor for blackheretic (redlondons)

Her heart wants to erupt through her throat, and she audibly gulps, trying to keep her gaze from the only place it wants to go. Thank fuck his eyes are so hypnotic; she can get lost in them as she stammers for English syllables. “Y-Yes, Dr. Solo?” “Seriously, Rey.” Is he blushing? Surely not. “I’ve known you all year, call me Ben.” “Ben,” she mumbles. It tastes like delicious sacrilege. “I actually think you’re in my bed.” “Huh?” “The couch. I was going to sleep there. Remember?” Rey clutches the blanket to her collarbone, hoping the light fabric is tented loosely enough to cover her breasts. Fuck, why does he have to be so distractingly hot? “No, it’s all right. I don’t mind, Professor.” “Ben," he insists firmly. “And I won’t be able to sleep at all knowing I’m comfy in a bed while you’re sleeping on that thing.”

Owner Malfunction. for Bombastique

One year after surviving Execgol, Rey and Ben Solo find themselves in each other's company after they are both captured while trying to take back the Falcon from Kanjiklub remnants. (AKA - The Force, the Falcon, love, and droids.)

Stealing the Light for bratanimus

Redemption isn’t given. It’s earned. Or: As the galaxy rebuilds from war, the man formerly known as Kylo Ren tries to make peace with the person he was, and the person he’s becoming.

Rey Niima and the American (Hot Piece of) Ass that She Just Wants to Tap, while also Not Dying in the Triwizard Tournament or Becoming Otherwise Inconvenienced or Maimed for Cairdiuil_Paiste

Completed for the prompt: Hogwarts AU! Triwizard tournament time with seventh year Rey representing Hogwarts. She wants to impress the MACUSA representative to strengthen her chances of joining their graduate programme. Too bad American diplomat Ben Solo doesn't seem to like her…

a forest of stars for caisha

Rey works hard at the diner to save up for her long dreamed-of vacation to Finland. She's lonely, but that's not new. What is new is Kylo Ren, the CEO of Orpheus Corp and new boss of her best friend Finn. When Finn and Kylo Ren stop by the diner for lunch, Rey feels as though she's finally met someone who understands her. But who is Kylo Ren, and what's his secret? A Modern Fae AU

I am a Soul Longing for Ceallaigh

Rey has spent the last two years searching the galaxy for clues about how to bring Ben back. Now, finally, it seems she has a solid lead. The planet Xolutel is said to be a vergence in the Force, and myth has it there's a hidden temple where worshipers of the Force were granted their deepest desires. No matter how slim the possibility, Rey owes it to Ben and herself to check it out. She's not known to give up easily.

The World Has Been Sad Since Tuesday for ceciliasheplin

The creature on his bed defied explanation, but Kylo Ren had a distinct feeling that there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. At least, not in this room. Demons lay in wait outside, but not here. Best not to let anyone know about this.

Be With Me for Chthonia

A force connection between Kylo (Ben), and Rey. It takes place while she is on Ach-To, and he is on the Death Star.

between the shadow and the soul for ClockworkCrow (icemink)

“You and Skywalker have been keeping it a secret,” she said, her eyes searching his face to catch him when he lies. “But I know the truth. I learned it, the day after we fought on Mustafar. That Lord Vader was his father, and your grandfather.” He struggled against her stasis but she pushed back harder, her power swirling around them both. “Rey—” “Don’t you see, Ben?” There was a ghost of a smile on her lips. “The darkness is inside of you, too. You don’t have to keep fighting it. You were meant to be mine.” Mine. . or: Jedi Knight Ben Solo should really stop doing smuggling runs with his father. Kira Ren should really stop trying to turn him to the dark side.

The Rescue for cohava

“What is it?” Ben asked, watching the worry lines form on Rey’s forehead as she checked the message that had just pinged through her datapad. “Poe’s leading the relief efforts on Faratula. There’s a boy there, Force sensitive. Orphaned. Poe says it’s a pretty bad situation.” “Let’s go get him, then,” he said without pausing.

how easy you are to need for Crimson_Alchemistress

The war is finished, yet Rey still carries wounds. They come in the form of nightmares, but Ben is there to comfort her.

stuck on how it feels here next to you for crossingwinter

Around four months ago, Ben and Rey married out of convenience. It had started that way and one of the key reasons why they had agreed to this in the first place was the condition that neither had romantic feelings for the other. This is their life, both head of heels for the other while not really knowing what to do about it.

Blue Sand for Crysania

The pale crimson sun rises above the horizon across the fields. A slight wind gently brushed Rey’s face. She left the ship and coverded herself with a blue scarf from a desert heat. She stepped forward, carefully observing the small city before her. Hot sand was burning her feets despite thick soles of boots. “This is going to be disaster,” she told herself with a crooked smile.

covert mission: baby acquisition for crystanagahori

In which Rey decides she's ready to start a family of her own and Ben Solo, her boss and dear friend, would make the perfect sperm donor. * It was a stupid, girlish crush. One that likely wasn’t reciprocated, and could land her in a world of trouble with HR if she acted brashly. But still, she wanted him. He could waive his parental rights for all she cared. They could enter into some sort of contract, if such things existed. But he was the perfect candidate, the ideal sperm donor. Ben Solo.

hands that hurt, hands that heal for cuddlesome

Rey climbs on top of Ben and makes out with his sopping self after Force healing his stab wound.

It was not Death, for I stood Up for CwenPhy

Emperor Palpatine lied on Exegol; Rey is not his granddaughter. Rey sets off on a journey, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi, to bring Ben Solo back from the World Between Worlds.

Good Boy for dankobah

Rey takes her dog to a nearby veterinary clinic for an emergency and doesn't expect to meet Ben (or anyone) while there.

The Unbreakable Bond for DarkSideOfMe

After Crait, Rey thought she had severed their Force Bond, or at least closed it, but some weeks ago she started feeling it, a presence in the back of her mind. Then she could hear him saying her name or other random words or feelings: concern, anxiety, loneliness, longing..to be fair, she didn’t know who those feelings belonged to, if there were Kylo’s or hers. And that was the other reason to put an end to this; she wasn’t ready to deal with anything different to her anger and disappointment. She had to focus on her training, on the Resistance, in their fight against “his” First Order. She was scared, scared of something she couldn’t put a name to, and last night had just showed her how important it was to break their connection. It was time to read the Jedi texts she’s been putting off for too long.

NiimaRide for datswatutink

Journey urge her not to stop believin' but provide no further clarification before she's strapped in the back seat and they're pulling away from the only real break she's had in twenty-four years.

To Hold and Give Light for dearly

After Exegol, Rey takes an injured Ben back to the Resistance.

a conundrum of lightsabers for devon380black (kryptonian17)

In the aftermath of Crait, Rey is left with two halves of a broken lightsaber she has no idea how to fix. As her force bond conversations with Ben continue, she comes to understand he's the only one who can help her with her problem. Maybe if they can repair one thing, they can repair something else too.

What Happens in Hotel Chandrila for DrPearlGatsby

Accompanying her best friends to a Galaxy Wars convention in Chandrila sounded like a good idea at first. But third-wheeling sucks, and that's how Rey finds herself daydrinking alone at the hotel bar. And then she gets a free drink from a tall, brooding, handsome stranger…

Until the Wild Feelings Leave You for dustoftheancients

Rehabilitating from a battle injury leaves Rey an irritable mess. The way Ben hovers over her does nothing to help.

Kintsugi for ElegyGoldsmith

In the darkest moments, the galaxy is still filled with light.

give me shapes and letters, if it’s not forever for ElleRen31

She holds out her hand, “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Rey.  I work at the flower shop next door.” He must be new, or she’s just a shut-in during work because she would’ve remembered seeing him after a year of being here. “I’m Kylo, I own the tattoo shop.”  He points to his building and her eyebrows raise as he shakes her hand.  Owner? So he’s the head honcho? She hums to herself and then keeps the smile plastered on her face. Then she sets her sights on the dogs, “What are their names?”

Where the ocean goes for Elywyngirlie

Sometimes getting out alive is the victory. Sometimes the rest takes a little time.

it shall not be death for englishable

Rey of the Jedi Knights is sent with her sword and Holy Fire, to destroy a palace of thorns. It doesn't quite go as planned.

The Reckoning for Erin410

Because of Rey, Ben has grown rather good at waiting. But she’s waiting, too, for something that hasn’t dawned on him yet. [Post-TROS mildly angsty marriage proposal fluff, hope you enjoy!]

Trading Places for Fairleigh

Kylo… Kylo awoke to the sound of her whimpering his name. He sat bolt upright in Rey’s extremely uncomfortable cot. Anxious for her safety, he reached out for her with his mind. Rey? He heard her moan and heat instantly pooled between his legs. Curious. The sensation was different but not unwelcome. Then he saw Rey, or rather he saw himself, naked and writhing on his bed. His mouth fell open. Rey was... masturbating. He watched in awe as she pumped his shaft up and down, slowly but forcefully. Kylo… She called his name again.

You'll Turn for FangirlintheForest

A retelling of the Last Jedi's elevator and throne room scenes with a role reversal twist. Can Smuggler Ben turn Dark Rey?

Building Something Together for fantastic_fanatics

When Ben confronts his new upstairs neighbor who keeps making all manner of odd noises at all manner of hours, he didn't expect what she's doing up there. He also didn't expect her to be so pretty.

Little Starfighter for Fic_me_senseless

Convinced he ruins everything he touches, isolated and lonely Ben Solo successfully pushes everyone away, except for the girl who sees something in him she recognizes.

Benvenuto nella nostra famiglia for gennalannisters

"Well, I have sensitive information here. Dinner is just actually a ploy. It’s actually an interrogation to make sure you didn't read the documents." She turned and smirked at him as they headed down the stairs, "If that's the case, I'm happy to be interrogated through wining and dining.” Love is in the air at Harvard Square.

Binary Suns for gigi_marlee

Young Ben Solo meets a young Rey. The two form an intense and instant attachment to the confusion of Ben's parents and his Uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. What is a dyad and what will it mean for two children who have found belonging in each other?

more everything for HalfwayThrough

"I'm the boss, I've earned the right to show up whenever the fuck I want." He was arrogant, condescending, and an asshole. And he didn't have a mark on his wrist.

One Stick of Unsalted Butter for HopeRebel

Rey's neighbor is the rudest, least considerate person she had to interact with. However, when she runs out of butter in the middle of night trying to bake cookies for Rose's birthday, there is only person she knows is awake and he is her only hope. Of course, things don't go according to plan.

come home, ben for hxllosweetie33

He looked at their hands, watched as Rey intertwined their fingers together, and fought the back the shutter from the contact. “ Rey…” He whispered. She brought her hand to his face – calloused tips brushing against his scar – observing his face, every detail of it, the bags and dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, his dry lips, the lack of light behind his eyes.

Ashes of Life for iamladyloki

Dark Rey becomes a reality and Ben has to remind her who she is

Negotiated Settlement for ilum

General Leia Organa has brought a small team with her to Kaytuu 5, expecting to negotiate a ceasefire between the First Order-controlled planetary government and local Resistance fighters. Unfortunately, Supreme Leader Armitage Hux has other plans. Rey will need the assistance of a Certain Someone who no longer calls himself Kylo Ren if she and her friends are to save the day.

Coming Home for incognitajones

After the Battle of Exegol, Rey and an injured Ben are trapped together on an uninhabited planet.

The Stray for itsinthestars

Rey moves in across the hall from Ben; a former foster kid alone in the city, aspiring to be an actress. Ben is a ladder-climbing white collar businessman with a horrible boss and zero social life. Which is just the way he likes it. So why in the world has this insufferable creature made it her life's work to adopt him? From sharing her dinner to doing his laundry, she seems determined to make a connection. In the end, it's easier for Ben to just let her. But opening up means letting your heart be vulnerable.

Peace and Purpose for itsnotillegal

Across the stars, Rey and Ben yearn for each other, neither able to move on, both facing the unending nights alone. But the Force longs for balance as surely as they long for each other.

Christmas Blues for karlamartinova

The first snow had fallen, covering the ground like a white blanket. The emergence of winter weather always marked the increase of Christmas moods. The season when people fervently decorated their houses and you couldn’t walk through the mall or downtown area without hearing a Christmas jingle. The neighborhood already sparkled with multicolored lights and inflated or authentic snow-made snowmen. Rey Johnson’s festive mood rose with each house she drove by, her fingers tapping on the wheel as “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”faded and transitioned into another song.

prince and the sea for kuresoto

Prince Ben Chewbacca Solo Organa, descendant of the house of Naberrie and the line of Skywalker, heir to the Starbird pirate fleet, has followed in the family tradition of slaying monsters and ruling the high seas. Which in no way is an attempt at ignoring his soulmate bond.

what stranger miracles for La_Catrina

Ben can’t even manage to die right, apparently. 

the universe resting in my arms for Lightningpelt

Rey sees Ben, quietly tooling around the Skywalker homestead, his hands wet with mechanic's grease, and the image is so perfect that she holds her breath, not wanting to mar it with a loud breath.

counting my steps, reaching out to you for Lizardbeth

All her life, Rey has felt snatches of someone else's emotions, seen visions of other places, other people she's certain she's never seen before. In a world where everything had been taken away from her, this connection was hers alone. She is wholly unprepared for the day she finds out that the person at the other end of the connection is a Jedi fighting as part of the Resistance against her delusional Master.

Soulmates for LostInQueue

After Ben Solo disappears in front of her eyes, she finds a way to bring him back, where love began…

Heal for LRRH17

A few weeks after the Battle of Crait, the Force connects Rey and Ben again on several occasions.

Softly, Softly  for lucymonster

When the Resistance start to pick up distress calls from defecting Stormtroopers, they move to save as many as they can. It doesn't occur to them that the First Order might be after the same renegades until they're right on top of them.

First Impressions and Unexpected Connections for LueurdeLaube

War has ravaged the galaxy, but finally, there is a chance at peace. Her grandfather arranges for Princess Rey Palpatine to wed the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, broadcast across the galaxy to usher in the new era. They've never met before, but he's sent her letters.

All These Things That I've Done for MahoganyDoodles

Someone dropped down to Rey's level and reached for the empty plastic shell of her case. She stilled for a moment, afraid that she was about to get smacked with it, afraid to look up. “Sorry about him,” she heard over the sound of her heart beating through her ears. Not Hux? This voice was deeper. Rey looked up and saw Ben Solo in front of her, holding out the case for her, a sympathetic look in his dark brown eyes.

For Now for maq_moon

There are plenty of things he could say, but he doesn’t. Buying you muffins makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I wish I could go back in time and be the kind of person you could like. I don’t remember my life before you. ---------- When Kylo finds his soulmate, she doesn't know, and he doesn't tell her.

[risingsouls]

Conversations: 8

[Finally had an idea for another one. Cheesy and cliche at the end but you know what, I’m weak for them, alright. All I can say is it’s about damn time.]

Vegeta touched down just outside the area the Gerudo set aside in the middle of the desert for their festival. When Nabooru had extended the invitation to him and promised plenty of sparring, food, and drink, the chosen location confused him as he figured they had plenty of room to hold it in their community’s square. However, once he took flight, he understood; he could see the flames of a sizable bonfire stretching toward the stars from his home miles away. 

The scent of food wafted on the light breeze toward him and made his stomach rumble. He could hear music, chatter, and laughter coming from the flame-illuminated figures milling and dancing around the area, as well as the distinct sounds of battle in the distance. Ki flared in a multicolored spectrum against the black sky, clashing together with planet-quaking force.

He had doubted Nabooru’s description of their festival, assuming she exaggerated or supplied him with a palatable description to lure him there. Yet another knee-jerk expectation due to his past dealings with others, even though she had yet to lead him astray in such an underhanded manner just to get him to attend some function or another.

No sooner had he stepped into the halo of firelight was he accosted by three Gerudo in their upper teens if not barely out of them. The triplets. Nabooru had mentioned them and he had spotted them once or twice at her tournament helping out with this or that. Though children when they migrated to Earth, she said they had been the best in the tribe with a bow, and their deadly accuracy followed into their ki training. 

"I told you he'd come," one of them bragged, hands on her hips. "I bet he wanted to see how strong the rest of us are since only Nabooru, Valis, and Avira got to enter the Warrior Games."

"Or he really does have a thing for Nabooru," the middle one chimed in, ogling him with that slack smile and gleam in her eyes of a hopeless romantic. "Everyone can see they--"

Vegeta felt his cheeks burn, and a growl rumbled in his throat, impatience beginning to get the better of him. "How about the two of you stop blathering on like he's not standing right there?" The third shot her sisters a glare, obviously noticing the Saiyan's agitation. "Sorry about them."

"At least one of you isn't hopeless," he said, folding his arms. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. What do you want? Make it quick before that changes."

"We were hoping you would spar with us," the third answered. Vadya, maybe. That or Nadya or Zadya. This was the first time he had met them for more than a passing moment; he was surprised he remembered their names even if he couldn't attach them to the proper Gerudo. "As the eldest, I was thinking I could go first but--"

"No way, Vadya! I beat you earlier fair and square! I'm going first!"

The fire in the two sisters' eyes when they squared off to face each other, their obstinate expressions, Vadya opening her mouth to prepare another retort...Vegeta could see the annoying route this conversation was headed. He was not about to listen to a trio of Gerudo siblings bicker over who got the honor of fighting him first.

"All three of you. At once." Three pairs of yellow eyes snapped to him, mild surprise etched in their expression. "Nabooru says you fight best together. I don't need you wasting my time three times over."

They exchanged glances and slow smiles lit their features one by one. The first pumped her fists in the air and whooped, feet leaving the sand to levitate a foot above it. "I knew you were cool! Vadya, Nadya, let's go!" The other two joined their sister. "Catch us if you can!"

The prince watched them take off into the night, a triad of white-pink auras darting toward a space between the other battling Gerudo. He waited a few seconds more before speeding off after them. 

--------

Nabooru returned to the festival with a grin on her painted lips, basking in her victory over Avira, whom she left to lick her wounds before she, too, would rejoin the festivities. No sooner had Valis read off the last name of the Gerudo who had fallen when Hyrule ambushed them, the Soldier's Bane had challenged her to a spar, wasting no time. Nabooru was simply grateful this and other requests were made for the betterment of their skills rather than to unseat her as leader of the Gerudo and question her ability to lead them. She could enjoy them far better without the weight of either hers or her fellow Gerudo's impending death hanging over her. And Avira's own skill and growth always impressed the former leader...she just typically kept it to herself to keep it from going to the other's head.

Aveil found her and shoved a drink in her hand. "Welcome back. That was longer than expected."

"I fought on her level longer than usual. You know, let her think she had me beat a few times, enjoyed the work out." She took a sip of the citrus cocktail, it's strength hidden behind the sweet flavor and sunny coloration. "She wasn't quite as mad about me toying with her. Had she been drinking while Valis recited?"

Aveil snorted. "Couldn't say. I was nodding off."

"Disrespectful."

"I spent all day setting this up. You do that and try to stay awake while someone reads a bunch of names.” Aveil took a generous gulp of her own drinks. “Some of us didn’t spend the better part of the day cavorting with our boyfriend.”

Nabooru rolled her eyes. Her former second in command had always teased her about her arrangement with the Saiyan prince since their sparring began. While it used to be once in a while, she had dug her heels in on the insistence on their relationship status. “I was training with Vegeta who isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Mm, you know I won’t argue with you. The guy lived with you and you didn’t even make a move. Have you even kissed him? Held his hand? Touched knees sitting next to him?”

“Ever think that I don’t want to do any of those things?”

“No, because you’re the one that lies to herself. Everyone knows you at least want to sleep with him. And you should just do it because it will do you both a world of good.”

Nabooru drained her drink and circled around Aveil for another. She snatched it off the table and took a sip. If she knew Aveil was going to grill her all night, she would have chugged down several drinks instead of sparring with Avira. “Okay, say you were right about me. Whose to say he wants to sleep with me?”

“Seriously?” Aveil laughed and bent over double. When she stood again, she wiped fake tears from her eyes. “I can maybe believe that you don’t but I’ve never seen anyone check you out as much as he does. I can’t count how many times I’ve caught him staring at your chest.”

“That’s because they’re at eye level for him and...you know what? I’m done with this conversation,” huffed Nabooru, considering challenging Aveil to a spar just to get some semblance of revenge. She turned her attention to the distance, pinpointing Vegeta’s energy among the triplets’. “He would take on all three of them.”

“They bombarded him as soon as he got here. I’m surprised he agreed since they’re not you. Guess they wanted a chance before he spotted you and you both disappeared somewhere.” Aveil grinned in the face of Nabooru’s withering glance. The three energies in question lowered to near nothing before heading back toward the festival. 

The triplets veered off toward another group of Gerudo that included Zana she noted with some humor and Vegeta landed in front of the pair of them. Aveil greeted him with a waggle of her fingers. “Hey, Vegeta. We were just talking about you.” She patted Nabooru’s shoulder with her free hand and winked. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

Nabooru watched her leave, glad she spared them both any more of her perverted goading. “How was your spar with the triplets?” Grabbing a bottle of liquor, she poured it into the glass and handed it over, knowing the sweet cocktails wouldn’t suit his tastes. “I’m a little disappointed they couldn’t even get you to break a sweat.”

“It was a decent warm up.” He took the drink from her and used the moment to observe the change in her clothing choice. Like the others, she swapped out the Earth style of clothing she typically donned for her people’s traditional wear. The same outfit she wore to her tournament only this time fully adorned with the jewelry he noticed she had paired with it on the mannequin in her closet. Overly showy, but he could not deny the regal effect the outfit offered her. He had opted on the simple dark blue outfit he had also worn at her tournament, but he idly wondered if he should have gone with his armor instead. “Who got you to break one? Avira?”

“Only because I wanted it to last longer than a few minutes.” She headed toward the outskirts of the boundary the rest of the Gerudo had set around the bonfire at the center, knowing Vegeta would follow. Selecting a spot still within range of the fire’s heat, she sat down, one knee bent toward the sky. 

He took a seat next to her. "I guess we're both guilty of toying with our opponents tonight." For good reason; he wanted to see what his opponents could do rather than thrash them immediately as he could have. He watched as a group of Gerudo struck up a dance of sorts. Another pair sparred without ki or weapons. He found Aveil chatting with the triplets as Zana checked their injuries, minor as they were. "Is there a special reason for all this?"

"Hm?" She had zoned out in the silence, a sideways glance locked on the male beside her. The sharp angles and lines that formed his face, the calm that worked its way into his constant resting scowl. The way the fire’s light and shadow played over it. The musculature of his bare arms and toned legs, still apparent in his usual skin tight pants. Damn Aveil putting thoughts in her head…

"You mean the festival?" Nabooru chuckled. "Guess it depends who you ask at this point. We try to hold this one at least once a year to honor those that fell back on Hyrule and celebrate their lives. Someone more religious like Valis would tell you it was also to honor our goddesses. Then Aveil would tell you it's just an excuse to drink, dance, and fight." She conveniently left off the additional answer her former second would give; her mind was already out to betray her.

"If all your festivals are this way, the fighting already makes them better than what Earthlings define as a party, a real reason for it or not." He lifted the glass to his lips and took a swig. "From what I remember, what few celebrations we were still allowed when I was a child were similar. Nappa said they were toned down because Frieza found them barbaric, so they compromised with the ones the bastard didn't completely outlaw."

"Sounds like Frieza didn't know how to have fun. But I'm sure he had decided everything Saiyans did was barbaric. At least from what you've told me." She leaned back on one arm. "Hyrule was about the same. They didn't like that we worshipped differently, that our entire culture was different than theirs. They probably feared our potential influence, especially on their women, but they couldn't do much about it besides hiss and bemoan our sinful and 'backwards' ways."

Vegeta grunted. "You wouldn't be wrong. He didn't even like Saiyans letting their tails loose." He remembered the teachings from his childhood, the warnings to always keep it tucked tightly around one's waist. They framed it as protecting the typically sensitive appendage from opponents, since if pulled or squeezed hard enough, it could paralyze a soldier. A fair enough explanation. But by the time his tutors taught him this particularly strange rule of decorum, only fools didn't train their tails to not be a weakness for them. His mother had been the one to tell him the truth of the matter before a visit from Frieza to the palace. He remembered her warnings about being on his best behavior and making doubly sure his tail remained around his waist. The young prince had belligerently asked her why, the effort of maintaining it in one place and the mental discipline it took at that age an annoyance, astutely pointing out that he wouldn't be fighting and his tail posed no threat to him. She had responded bluntly: it offended our overlord to see them freed. He preferred them tucked away and passing for a fuzzy belt.

He relayed this story to Nabooru. "Of course, I had to test her warning. While my father, Nappa, and Frieza were discussing the most recent successes and failures of the army, I used my tail to grab a fruit from the bowl on the table and ate it." He chuckled. "Frieza stopped mid sentence and cleared his throat, nodding toward me. The disgusted look on his face was priceless and worth the lecture afterward.”

“Who knew little baby Vegeta was such a rebel,” said Nabooru, laughing. 

The hint of a smirk curled his lips. “It was reckless. Frieza killed for less and he didn’t discriminate based on age. But it sounded so ridiculous to me I had to know for sure.”

“Either way, I like it. Sounds like something I would have done as a kid. Maybe even now.” She stretched her other leg out to join the other. “That’s the first time you’ve really talked about your mother, though. Do you remember her?”

“Bits and pieces of memories like that one.” He swirled the alcohol in his glass. "She served as a general in the army with Nappa before she married my father. From what I understand, she maintained those duties while serving as queen. Demanded it because she refused to be just a figurehead, according to Nappa. She even refused my father's proposal unless he bested her in combat. I remember watching her fight on a few occasions--spectacularly I might add--and she oversaw a few of my training sessions when she could. She taught me about our history and legends, and the beginnings of war strategy."

"She sounds incredible," Nabooru mused, silently wishing she could have met her. She sounded like the kind of woman and warrior she would respect and look up to, followed by the juvenile, guilty wish that her mother had been similar. A consideration she despised herself for now more than ever. 

“You’ve never talked about your mother, either. Or your father.”

Nabooru could feel Vegeta watching her, but she avoided his gaze to hide her remorse, her sadness. Her thumb traced patterns in the condensation of her glass. “I never knew my father. All I know is he was a merchant, possibly from another country. I’m ashamed to say I wasn’t so proud of my mother for a long time for mostly petty reasons,” she said at last. “She was the tribe’s master seamstress and incredibly talented in her craft. Lanu was actually her apprentice. She raised me the first few years of my life until I was old enough to begin my training and education. She was still a part of my life, but my people took a more ‘it takes a village’ approach to child rearing. For too long, I wished that some other Gerudo was my mother, a warrior like I wanted to be. She could fight, of course, combat training was required of all Gerudo, but she had chosen a different path when she was allowed. It didn’t help that we didn’t see eye to eye on my decisions in life: the dangers of being a warrior in our army, the stress of joining the Elite, my decisions concerning having children of my own. It wasn’t until the last few years before we left Hyrule that I really started trying to fix our relationship.”

Efforts that no longer mattered outside of a temporary alleviation of regret when she dwelled on her mother and her fate for too long. “The last time I saw her was during the attack. We had been forced back into the fortress, the labyrinthine nature of it all that bought us time. She was actually the one to come up with the idea that saved us.” Nabooru nodded to the other Gerudo. Laughing. Dancing. Sparring. Happy, or so she hoped. “She volunteered to lead a group of mostly elder Gerudo toward the enemies encroaching on the room we had holed up in. I tried to argue, but she and a few others pointed out that a smaller group would have a better chance at escaping to the desert, and if anyone should survive, it should be the younger women. They would stage a final assault to give us a chance to escape out the room’s other exit since the Hylians knew the last of us had hidden away together. While a risk, it banked on their perceived victory blinding them to the rest of us escaping. It worked.”

At the cost of her mother and many great Gerudo women, all of which she knew personally in some regard or another. She bit her lip hard and swallowed to keep her tears at bay as their faces surged to the forefront of her memory. For years she wondered how many of their attackers they took down with them before succumbing to their overwhelming numbers. What her mother’s last moments looked like, her last thoughts. Had her daughter made her as proud as Nabooru was of her and a courage she didn’t know the seamstress possessed?

Vegeta allowed the silence between them to stretch onward, both to respect the woman’s old wounds and to consider if he had anything verbal or otherwise to offer her. He struggled to process and maintain his own grief, and simply witnessing others’ despair if not directly caused by him was a new avenue for him entirely. Hers at least felt familiar, relatable to him.

“That’s something the two of you share,” he said at last. Her questioning gaze met his, one eyebrow lifted. “You both are passionate about your people and would sacrifice everything to keep them alive. Perhaps you’re not as different from her as you thought.”

The fact that Vegeta spoke at all surprised her. She had shared the tale with him because he asked and perhaps to simply verbalize it for the first time since it happened and her own benefit. The response was insightful over sympathy she didn’t want from him, one she could appreciate and a consideration that did make her feel better and coaxed the easy smile back to her painted lips.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Her smile widened to a cheeky grin. “Who knew you could be so thoughtful. Guess you are a really good listener.”

“Oh, shut up. I was pointing out the obvious,” he groused, though he could not deny the warmth in his chest upon seeing her face light up once more, the fire in her eyes and her smile returning. A novelty of emotion for him, but he reveled in the pride of the fact that he revived them. 

He finished his liquor in a single gulp and rose to his feet. “Let’s go. I was promised fighting, and a single spar isn’t going to cut it.” He tossed the glass in the air and blasted it, the dust sparkling in the firelight on its descent to the sand. “Or did you think you were off the hook because we already trained together today?”

Nabooru followed his lead and dusted the sand from the seat of her pants. “I was just waiting for you to ask me like a proper gentleman.” Another swig of her own drink emptied the glass, and she disposed of it in similar fashion. “Lead the way, your highness.”

With a roll of his eyes, Vegeta took to the sky once more and flew away from the festivities. He chose a spot far enough away from the bonfire and revelers as well as the other fights to allow them plenty of space. He descended and landed, Nabooru touching down feet from him. “Are you ready? Or do I need to wait for you to warm up or something?”

“I just need to do one thing.” Once more, she was at a loss on who or what to blame for her actions. Alcohol. Aveil. The Saiyan standing before her. The urge had hit her before they took to the sky with more potency, more determination, than before as a mere passing thought. Out here they had privacy, something she assumed he would appreciate (and that she might, too, if the gesture took a wrong turn). A risk she had considered, and one she finally decided she was ready to take. Waiting for him to make the first move had become too agonizing, so against her nature.

Nabooru rested a hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder, noting only a habitual tense of muscles over a full drawing back from her touch. Bolstered by the lack of spurning and the notion she had come too far not to see it through, she dipped down and pressed her lips to his, her hand on his shoulder gliding to the back of his neck. It was hard, near painful, to hold back once the connection was made. To maintain the slight space between their bodies and keep her fingers from threading into his hair. To not let her passion consume her and convince her to deepen the kiss beyond one meant to test the boundaries and risk pushing him away rather than drawing him closer. 

Such care in mind, she pulled away after a few moments, her reluctance displayed in how her lips lingered a breath away from his, biting her lower lip. Through half-lidded eyes, she observed his face, heart racing in her chest in an anxiety she hadn’t felt in decades. However, the corner of her mouth twitched up in a slight smirk at the sight of his reddened cheeks and hooded eyes, the expression caught between surprise and desire.

Just as she shifted to straighten back up, Vegeta growled and his expression flashed to a frustrated glower. Gloved hand shot out and seized the oversized ruby resting against her chest, and he yanked her back down to his level, crashing their lips back together. He cupped her face with one hand while the other gripped her hip, felt her arms drape over his shoulders and her hands cling to his shoulder blades. He greedily relished her taste, the sweetness of her drink that still clung to her lips and her natural flavor. Her warmth. The delighted moan that caught in her throat when he forced their bodies closer. 

He had never cared much for kissing. A formality at best or a natural occupation for the lips during sex. But when they were forced to separate, to breathe, he found for the first time (as far as he could remember) he hadn’t wanted that one to end.

If her mind hadn’t clouded over in bliss and muddled her thoughts, she would have come up with a clever quip about their height difference or a teasing remark about how desperately he pulled her back to him or an inquiry about how long he had been waiting to do that. But all she could focus on in that moment was his touch at her hip and how his thumb traced the boundary between flesh and fabric. How he tasted and the delightful tingle left behind on her lips from the force of the kiss. The places where their bodies connected. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her shifted hand and the feel of the hard muscle beneath. Maybe she shouldn’t have put this off so long…

Finally, Nabooru stepped back, fingers trailing over his arms for that last bit of contact. “I think I’m ready now.”

Vegeta shifted into a fighting stance, a smirk on his lips. “Very well. Come at me, then.”

[eightlittletalons]

Prompt #4: Clinch

This prompt got a bit away from me, in the best of ways. It’s a continuation from the second prompt, Sway, though not written in a fragmented style like that one. I also threw in a reference to the fact that I’ve been very slowly leveling E’andhris as a dancer.  Definition of clinch 1: clench 2: to make final or irrefutable : settle 3: to hold fast or firmly

"Dance with me, G'raha " The whispered breath ruffled against his ear, making it flick. Strong, warm hands closed around his own, twining their fingers together. The Crystal Exarch felt his heart beat a sharp staccato within his chest at the sound of his name and glanced sharply up into mismatched eyes, one a warm brown and the other crystalline blue. 

While the request lacked a questioning inflection, G’raha recognized it as a request indeed by the tilt of E’andhris’ head. His chin dipped low towards him, as a soft smile graced his lips. So he followed, helpless against the main he had been prepared to give everything for. 

An impromptu band had been pulled together from among those in the Crystarium who could play in the excitement of the Warrior of Darkness’ return to the city alongside their beloved leader. They struck up a fast-paced tune as exuberant as the mood among the people, one that E’andhris quickly whirled G’raha in time to. He found himself laughing brightly within the hero’s arms, ignoring the way his body ached for a soft bed in a quiet, dark room. 

Even in wild, joyful form of dancing, E’andhris moved with a level of elegance that surprised G’raha. “You’re better at this than I remembered,” he exclaimed, laughingly. His dancing partner’s ears flicked forward in the strain to hear him over the din of the crowd.

“I may have picked up some lessons over the years,” E’andhris replied, giving a grin that G’raha learned long ago meant trouble. He yelped loudly and scrabbled against the taller miqo’te’s arms for purchase as E’andhris tipped him back into a steep dip. 

He could only watch as the Warrior of Darkness bent low over him, and he felt his face begin to heat as he realized - oh wicked white - E’andhris was looking at his lips. They parted with a soft exhale, and Gr’aha was unsure if what he was feeling was panic or anticipation. Perhaps both. Surely he wasn’t about to-

“Might I cut in?” a familiar voice asked, breaking the spell binding them into place. The two seekers looked up sharply to see as Alisaie stood over them with crossed arms and wearing a pinched look. G’raha slipped from E’andhris’ arms, his ears going flat as he stood to his full height. Which happened to be just barely taller than the young elezen woman who glared venom at him.

“Not at all,” he replied, attempting to quell the tremor from his voice. “I can hardly steal away the Warrior of Darkness’ attention for the entire night, can I?” E’andhris gave him a heated look that told him that the mage certainly wouldn’t have had any objections if he tried. Perchance for the best not to dwell on that, he thought to himself. 

Alisaie for her part linked her arm through E’andhris’ arm to pull him away from the Exarch. “Come, Andhris, you promised me a dance too. Remember?”

Sorry, the mage mouthed as they left G’raha alone. He waved them off with a vague smile, and hoped he didn’t look as frazzled as he felt. As soon as he was no longer within eyesight, he allowed himself to sag with exhaustion. Then, fighting the urge to pull his hood up or turn himself invisible, he edged his way to the outer ring of the festivities. It was slow progress, as he was stopped what felt like every third fulm or so by well-wishers. He accepted each and every one, as graciously as he could when all he wished was to sleep.

Once he was safely out of the throng, he let out a deep breath. What in the everloving Twelve had that been? He was certain that E’andhris had been about to kiss him. Rubbing at his eyes hard, he turned to look for the white mage among the crush of revelers. It wasn’t hard to find him thanks to the shock of Alisaie’s white hair. 

The object of his obsession was currently twirling the girl about with a broad grin, bending low as they both ducked under their joined hands before falling away form each other, only to come chest to chest again. G’raha smiled at his inspiration’s obvious happiness, and leaned against the wall to watch them. His admired the way the man’s blue robes flared as he moved, revealing a scandalous amount of leg that combined with E’andhris’ bared arms made the Exarch’s mouth feel suddenly very dry. 

He wrenched his thoughts away from that train lest his mind turn to static as it often did when presented with so much of the Warrior’s skin. It was interesting, he thought instead, that none of the tales that the Exarch had heard of the Warrior of Light had ever given any inkling that the man could dance so well. As for his own experiences with E’andhris, he could only remember drunken summer nights gallivanting about the Seventh Heaven tavern in Mor Dhona together. It made him wonder what other hidden talents the hero had developed in their time apart. 

The Exarch found himself tapping his foot idly along to the beat of the music, and watched as Y’shtola intercepted E’andhris for her own turn dancing with their other miqo’te. Alisaie pouted, and G’raha wondered what the story there was. He had assumed she was merely protective of their mutual friend, but perhaps there was an undercurrent of a jealousy. 

“Exarch!” A heavy arm draped around his shoulders and G’raha very nearly jumped out of his own skin, his tail puffing beneath his robes. The seeker turned wide crimson eyes on an apparently very drunk Thancred, bewildered by the hyur’s sudden appearance. Where was...? Ah, Ryne was with with E’andhris, shyly requesting her own dance from him. “If you stare any harder at him, you might succeed where the Light failed in felling him.”

“I’m quite certain I have no idea what of that which you speak,” G’raha groused, trying to school his ears into not giving him away too badly. 

“Now, now, none of that,” Thancred nudged him with a playful grin. “I may have been out of the game for a few years now, but I know the look of someone utterly besotted when I see it. What I don’t know, however, is why you’re all the way over here, when he’s all the way over there?” 

The Exarch considered playing dumb a moment longer but a wave of weariness overtook him and he sighed, as heavy as his eyelids. “I’m afraid I find myself in dire need of a bed,” he confessed. He pushed himself from the wall, intending to make his way up to his chambers within the Crystal Tower. Instead, he pitched forward. Thancred’s grasp on him was his only saving grace against falling face first onto the pavement. 

“I suppose getting shot and spending several days as a guest of an Ascian would do that to anyone,” Thancred quipped cheerfully, hauling him back upright. “Need help getting to bed, old man?”

“I can take him.” In G’raha’s distraction, he missed E’andhris’ approach. He placed a steadying hand at the Exarch’s waist.

Thancred beamed at their friend, grasping G’raha’s arm and wrapping it around the taller miqo’te’s shoulders. “Ah, the man of the hour! We were just talking about you,” he teased. E’andhris quirked a curious eyebrow at that, and gave G’raha a wry smile. He moved his hand to fold his arm around G’raha’s waist instead. The Exarch sank heavily against the mage’s side in gratitude. 

“Come, let’s find you a bed,” E’andhris said softly, dipping his head low towards G’raha. He had an affection in his eyes again that the smaller miqo’te didn’t know what to do with. So he simply nodded his acquiescence and allowed the Warrior of Darkness to guide him away, missing the wink that passed from Scion to Scion. 

He did, however, relish the warmth of the man holding him up. He had more muscle to him than G’raha could recall from their time together with the Sons of Saint Coinach. More scars as well, he thought as he gazed up at the prominent one gracing the side of E’andhris’ jaw. “A gift from the Dravanian horde, before we became friends,” the mage uttered when he noticed G’raha’s stare. He brought them to a stop at the base of the stairs leading up into the Crystal Tower and cleared his throat. “So! Will we be retiring to your bed tonight or mine, my lord?” 

G’raha’s mind went blank. What? His mouth opened and closed in a facsimile of a fish. “I beg your pardon?” he finally choked out.

“To sleep, G’raha,” E’andhris soothed with a patient look. His left ear twitched, betraying his nerves. “Look, you’re practically dead on your feet, and I am too. Let’s go rest.”

“You’re very...familiar tonight, my friend,” G’raha breathed. He clung more tightly to the Warrior’s robes, his ears pinned. E’andhris hoisted him closer and bent to nuzzle against his forehead. 

“I lost you once, Raha, and almost did a second time. I don’t intend to again,” he whispered againt the Exarch’s ear. G’raha shuddered, looking desperately up into his odd eyes. “If it’s unwelcome, pray tell me now, but I would sleep easier with you at my side tonight.”

Tears sprang to G’raha’s eyes. “Please,” he begged. “Your room, please.”

E’andhris gave a single nod, face splitting into a broad smile. “Can you do your little invisibility trick? I’d prefer to avoid being waylaid an hour or more by our adoring public.”

“For you, I can do one better,” G’raha proclaimed as he gave a giddy little laugh. He reached for the power of the Crystal Tower and pulled. He felt the world shift beneath and around them, and then they were standing in E’andhris’ suite in the Pendants. The hero gave an impressed whistle before tugging him to bed.

His Warrior bade him sit with a gentle push against his chest, then knelt at his feet. He pulled his feet into his lap and unfastened his sandals before sliding them from his feet. “I knew, you know,” E’andhris said quietly. He kept his eyes low as he firmly kneaded G’raha’s feet in a brief massage. “Your identity - I knew it.”

G’raha felt his fight or flight response kick in them, his ears standing tall at attention. “When did you guess?” he gasped, gripping the sheets beneath him in an iron grip. E’andhris kicked off his own shoes and slowly raised to his feet, regarding G’raha with an unreadable look. He loosened the clasps at his shoulders and let his robes fall to the floor, leaving him in only a pair of black shorts. As he climbed into bed alongside G’raha, he suddenly felt very warm for a completely different reason.

“I suspected when we met at the gate,” E’andhris admitted, reaching to strip G’raha’s layers away until he was down to his black robe. Then he drew them both down to lay, pulling the blankets up over them. “But I knew it to be true when I first heard you laugh - at one of my gods awful pun, no less.” 

E’andhris pulled him closer into his arms, and G’raha went willingly. He tucked himself under his Warrior’s chin and felt the man purr deep in his chest. “I apologize for my deception,” G’raha whispered. He wrapped his arms around the mage’s torso tightly and hid his face against his neck.

“I know you only did what you thought was best, my Raha. You’ve been forgiven from the moment each lie left your lips.” G’raha’s face burned both from shame and the intimacy of hearing his name on his inspiration’s lips. “We should sleep, though. We’ll have more time to discuss this tomorrow,” E’andhris whispered against his ear.  

Time. Time for G’raha had ever been a finite resource, counting down to that fated day on Mt. Gulg. A fate that was averted, leaving him with what? “That we do...Andhris.” Joyful arms clinched tightly around him.

“Good night, Raha.”

[keeperofhounds]

Lost & Found (Chapter Five)

Special thanks to my beta reader @rachelbethhines and special thanks to Varian 66 on Discord for their part in developing this story.

We all know how the original story started. We all know how it ended too. Let’s see an alternate take if Eugene were to have been adopted rather than being alone for most of his life.

“So, how did you first meet Flynn Rider? This I have to know.” Varian said, as he examined chunks of hair. His goggles gave him a bug-eyed appearance with them on, but he seemed very impressed at how long the hair was.

After getting over the shock that this child was the “dangerous” wizard. Varian was more than happy to help her with the hair. He was an excitable young boy, who wouldn’t stop talking about Flynn. One comment that had her confused though was that he was happy to meet Flynn’s “girlfriend,” despite the thief’s protests to the counterair. Varian really was a character.

“Yeah, so can you do it kid?” Flynn asked, trying to keep Varian focused, “We’re sort of on a schedule.”

“Pft, this’ll be easy. I have something that could help.”

Varian ran towards another room, his feet stopping on the stone floor. As his steps faded away Rapunzel was struck with the fact that she and Flynn were alone. Well not really Pascal was there too. The long-haired girl wasn’t angry at what happened, why would she be? She was the one who freaked out again.

Rapunzel took a deep breath, “Look Flynn…”

“I’m sorry, Rapunzel.”

That stopped her short. Why would he be the one apologizing? She was the one who messed up, maybe Mother was right, maybe she really couldn’t handle the outside world. Flynn wasn’t done speaking, though.

“I exaggerated the entire thing, I thought that if I could just scare you off I could get out of the deal. I didn’t think that you’d pass out the way you did. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you and I’m sorry for that.”

This took Rapunzel for a loop, she hadn’t thought once it was Flynn’s fault. She was the one who wanted to leave the tower. Although hearing him apologize to her really did lift her spirits. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was just a misstep, and there was no reason to just give up now.

Rapunzel still didn’t know how to handle the apology, Mother had never done anything of the needing an apology. All she could do was look at Pascal who gave her a go on motion. Taking a deep breath Rapunzel rose from the stool and walked towards the thief. Once she was face to face or as much as she could given that Flynn was a good head taller than her.  Rapunzel placed both hands over her hips and gave Flynn a hard-look, “You better mister because just so you know we’re still going to see those lanterns.”

Flynn could only stare as the girl who was passed out tried to intimidate him. He could admit that there was a charm in the way she tried to act like nothing had changed. On one hand that makes it easier for him to get the crown back. On the other hand he was expecting more of a reaction than the one he got. Most people would be angry that they got tricked the way she did. He didn’t get the chance to reply when Varian came back running into the room. It also seemed that he had been listening in on the conversation.

“Oh, Flynn’s taking you to see the floating lights? That’s so romantic.” Varian winked at Flynn. Trust the kid to always do this to him.

“I told you Varian it’s not like that.” There was no way he could be the only one with a kid like this, right? Maybe he should stuck around more often, then maybe Varian wouldn’t be giving him that teasing look.

“I know this really nice sweet shop Flynn can take you, the store owner is really nice, Flynn can take you, and make sure he takes you out for dinner and walks you home. He may act like a rouge but he was raised to be a gentleman.”

Flynn couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice, “Varian shut up… it…. Is.... not… like…. That.”

Both boys held each others gazes with neither willing to look away. Flynn was finally starting to think that Varian finally got what Flynn was trying to say. Instead Varian turned to Rapunzel and asked, “So, you’re taking him out? I knew there was a girl out there who could sweep him off his feet.”

More like sneak up on him and knock him beside the head with a frying pan, but Flynn doubted that Varian would have anything to say other comment on how he probably deserved it. Flynn placed his hands on the younger boys shoulders and turned Varian to face him, “You know what it doesn’t matter anyway, did you get what you needed?”

The visitor could only watch as Varian showed off what he had brought back with him from the other room. It looked like rope made of nothing that either of them had ever seen. They were all sort of disappointed, they were expecting something more impressive.

“This is just rope,” Flynn said voicing Rapunzel's thoughts.

Varian scoffed, “It’s not just a rope Flynn it’s a bungee cord. Rapunzel’s hair is too thick and long for normal hair ties so I thought with this we could use the cord to hold her hair and wrap it.”

Rapunzel was honestly impressed with the young alchemists' thoughts. She had been worried about what the younger boy would think up. Obviously cutting her hair was not an option, but Varian seemed to be rising to the challenge.

Varian held a section of hair for Flynn to hold. “Now come on if we hurry you guys can make a good distance to the castle.”

This is how they spent the next few minutes. Honestly Rapunzel was surprised at how little time it took for Varian to do the entire thing. The alchemist wrapped the cord high on her head in a high ponytail then wrapped a section around the cord. He then puffed the hair in a bubble shape and wrapped another cord under it. He repeated the process several times until finally he was done.

“We’re finished Rapunzel, come on check out your new look.” Varian gently grabbed her hand and led her to a full-sized mirror in the room. Once they reached it Varian moved to the side, “Alright so what do you think? Nice huh?”

What Rapunzel saw took her breath away. The hairstyle itself was impressive considering that Varian had stated that he had never worked with hair before. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t bad either but her hair wasn’t falling to the ground. For the first time her hair wasn’t on the ground.

A giant smile sprang onto Rapunzel’s face, she twirled around her hair following her movements. She laughed turning to Pascal who was perched on the nearby table, “So, Pascal how do I look?”

Pascal chirped, and gave her a chameleon smile. He loved it.

Rapunzel screamed, throwing her arms around Varian in a bear hug and twirled him around with her, “I love it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Don’t… mention… it,” Varian wheezed, he hadn’t imagined the girl being so strong.

Rapunzel quickly let the boy go, “Oops, sorry.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Flynn stood to the side watching. It seemed very silly to be so happy about a new hair do but it seemed to mean the world to Rapunzel. It brought a smile to his face seeing both of them so happy. Maybe this entire situation wasn’t so bad.

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

Varian patted a cart stuffed full of personal items and food, “Mr. Travis is going to visit family for the festival tomorrow, the route is on the way if you hitch a ride you can make it to the castle by nightfall.”

Flynn and Rapunzel were squeezed into the limited space available in the cart. The tarp used to cover the cart was perfect for someone who was hiding from the authorities. Even better for the person who owned the cart to not notice the hitchhikers.

“Thank you so much for this.” Rapunzel said, peeking from under the tarp.

“Take care of yourself kid.” 

Varian handed Rapunzel a bag, “This has somethings that I made, take it as an apology for scaring you earlier.”

Rapunzel tried to refuse, but Varian insisted by shoving the bag into her arms. He told them to take care of each other and ran back towards the castle. Flynn and Rapunzel prepared to be comfortable because this was going to be a long ride.