#and I was fairly certain that it would be two different people

[alpaca-clouds]

A Rant about Engaging with Themes

When the actual trailer for Castlevania Nocturne S2 was released a few weeks back, a few people were surprised about Drolta being back. And those who have been in contact with me during the last year know, that I have been harping on about it: “Drolta is actually not dead. Drolta will come back in some way.”

And at least two people have asked me so far: “Why were you so sure?” And the answer is relatively simple: “Themes. And the whole thing about Chekov’s Gun.”

But you know, this is a topic that I saw in a lot of fandoms. Because in those fandoms people were surprised – and angry – about endings, while I saw those endings coming several seasons away. And I think it is worth talking about it. So, yes, this is going to be a little essay about engaging with themes in media.

The thing is, that I do not want to go harping on the “media literacy crisis”. Because I do not think the issue is that people cannot understand this – it is just that they often do not really engage with themes and the fact that creative people behind media are trying to say something with the media. Partly, maybe, because a lot of media does not get to. I mean, a lot of the Marvel movies recently do not have a whole lot to say. I doubt because the writers all had nothing to say, but because the brand does not want them to say anything about it.

But let’s get back to Drolta. Because here is the thing: Castlevania Nocturne does has something to say. I kinda hoped for it before we had more information on the show – but yes, Nocturne is very much about society, hierarchies and colonialism.

Here is the thing: I love the original four seasons Castlevania, but in terms of theming they are all over the place. There are absolutely some themes about forgiveness, about personhood, about questioning narratives, and about healing and coming to terms with abuse. But it is really all over the place and not quite as concise about that – not in the same way as Nocturne is. Nocturne is quite pointed about it.

Nocturne is about how colonialism and colonial exploitation, but also class exploitation are like vampirism. Colonialism is vampiric – not the vampires are.

And the big difference to the first four seasons of Castlevania are mainly not as succinct in terms of themes, because the different stories kinda have different themes. The different characters are connected to different themes. While in Nocturne all characters are connected to this main theme in one way or another.

It is of course most noticeable in terms of the characters directly affected by colonialism: Annette, Edouard, Olrox. It is also quite clear in regards of some of the bad guys. Erszebeth is a colonizer. So are the vampires actually killed in season 1.

But Drolta is interesting in this regard. Because inherent to her is a contradiction in terms of this theme. She aligns herself with Erszebeth – the colonizer – while her skin color aligns her with the colonized. In fact, the little we know about her does imply a lot in that regard. Because Drolta says herself she was a priestess of Sekmet. And Erszebeth has drunken from Sekmet, which in this regard can easily be read as a colonizer using the colonized religion against them.

However: This conflict inherent to Drolta’s character has not played out in one way or another. It is basically a sort of Chekov’s Gun – and it has not yet gone off. One way or another, Drolta needs to fall into the place in terms of how she relates to the main theme of the show, and because she did not really engage in that metaphorical dialogue, I was fairly certain that she was not dead.

Because here is the thing: Katie Silva is a darn good character designer, who is really good telling you a lot about the characters by the design. And she would not just make her Black just because it makes for an amazing design (though it does). And from the perspective of the writers there is just so much unused storytelling potential in Drolta.

I am not sure on what side Drolta is ultimately landing on. But I am fairly certain that before Drolta is killed for good, we will learn how she was involved in getting Erszebeth Sekmet’s blood, and how exactly Drolta herself relates to colonialism.

I am not saying it is impossible for her to be the sort of character who tries to align herself with the colonizer in the hope to get power for themselves. Because those people have existed in real history. However, she definitely needs to relate herself to the theme before she can be killed for good. Because otherwise her narrative potential has not been used – and I do trust the writers here enough to know they will at least try to use all the narrative potential. I am not sure whether or not Netflix will get in the way of that (for example by not ordering more seasons or similar bullshit), but I am fairly certain that at least the writers have a clear idea where they want Drolta to fall in terms of the theme.

So, this is the point where I pivot and talk about the two other fandoms, where this lack of engaging with the themes really annoyed the living heck out of me. One fandom I interacted with a lot at the time the show aired – while the other fandom I just watched from outside, but went later to confirm that the anger about the ending was really about a lack of the fandom at large not engaging with the themes. And fun fact: Both shows have a central theme about colonialism, just like Nocturne. Just coming at the theme from very different angles.

The shows are Steven Universe and Star vs the Forces of Evil. Steven Universe is the fandom I interacted with a good bit while the show was airing, while SvsFoE was a fandom where I mainly enjoyed the show and just saw the entire anger happen in the end with a lot of confusion.

But let me talk Steven Universe first.

Spoilers for both shows, obviously.

Because I was one of the first “Rose is Pink Diamond” Truthers in that fandom. Literally, the first time we heard about the Diamonds I instantly went: “Rose was a Diamond”. Before we even knew for sure there was a Pink Diamond. And when we saw the reliefs of the Diamonds – but not the one of Pink Diamond – it became even more clear to me.

And yet, big parts of the fandom at the time were calling the Truthers crazy.

Of course, it is now a few years since the show ended. And we all know that the Truthers were right about it.

However, I do remember during the last season. The further it went ahead without confirming that the theory was true, the more certain the Nay-Sayers became in their Nay-Saying, while I became even more certain about the theory being true.

Why was that?

Well, the Nay-Sayers obviously could not imagine how to pull off that twist in a satisfying way and resolve the plot within the fairly few episodes left. Meanwhile I saw the plot and realized, that the only way to resolve the plot while sticking to the themes of the show would be by having Rose – and hence Steven – be Pink Diamond.

To this day, a certain part of that fandom is still very angry about the Diamonds being redeemed. And to that part of the fandom I can only say: “Have you watched the show?” Because the show was very unsubtle about the fact that its main theme was forgiveness and redemption. It was about giving people second chances and talking about issues, rather than using violence. That was always the mission statement. It was about empathy.

And this was why I was so certain that Rose and Steven had to be Pink Diamond. Because I knew from the very beginning that they would not kill the Diamonds. But I also knew that the chance of them resolving that plot within the themes in a satisfying way would not be possible, if Steven was not to gain a certain privilege – like being a Diamond – to put him into a situation where the Diamonds would even so much as listen to him. Hence: Rose had to be Pink Diamond. Because otherwise the plot could not be ended in a way that fit with the themes.

(And yes, I was so fucking smug about it when the episode aired, that confirmed it.)

So, now let me talk about the fandom with the ending that is even more controversial than the ending of Steven Universe: Star vs the Forces of Evil.

Or how I call it: “Yeah, no shit are they gonna destroy magic. Magic in this was a metaphor for systemic privilege and the point of the show was that you can not brute force civil rights without giving up your own god damn privilege! Holy hell, this show was not even subtle about it!” (Yes, I do have some anger about this. Because… I have seen and read too many bad takes about the ending.)

Now, mind you. One thing you need to know about me: One of the historic topics I am kinda hyperfixating on is colonialism. So, when I loved the first season of this show and came to my friend group saying: “I think this is about colonialism.” They went: “With you everything is about colonialism.”

But then season 2 came and made it quite obvious. Indeed, this show is about colonialism and racism, and about how colonialism gives the colonial people privilege.

Now, let me at this point say it clearly: It is absolutely fine to have mixed feelings on how this was executed. Specifically with the show making indigenous people “monsters”. Good monsters, yes, but monsters never the less. I get what the makers were getting at – saying something about how a big part of colonialism was also the dehumanization of people – but I absolutely can agree that it could have probably been handled a bit better.

And yes, I also think that the last season – like so many last seasons in this modern day and age – was very rushed at parts, making some plot points not hit as well was they might have gotten to hit with a different pacing.

However, I did appreciate a lot of the things this show had to say about colonialism. Both with relating colonialism to the entire sexuality/gender thing, and also with being very clear on one thing: Just because you change the laws, does make discrimination go away. That is something I so rarely see being brought up in media – let alone media made by white people. But this show was spot on. We see in the later part of this show a lot of Star and Eclipsa try to brute force discrimination and racism to go away. And it just does not work. Because no law can make the perception of people that they are better than the “monsters” go away. All it does is create unrest among the people, as they do not understand the law changes, despise the new rulers for the privilege they hold over them. “Those up there, they don’t get it,” they say. And of course, yeah, people are pissed if you throw them out of their homes, even if it absolutely is the right thing to do, because they literally stole that home from someone else. But that does not change the fact that now they are homeless. And rather than make the racism go away, it just digs deeper trenches and it is a fucking complicated situation. And I loved that the show decided to actually go to that place.

And this is where magic comes in.

Because here is the thing: This show telegraphed early on that in fact magic is not a good thing. Magic in general was here a shorthand for power that could easily corrupt – and very specifically for a certain type of privilege. And yes, I read a few blogs and saw two or three videos about people also complaining of how stupid the way was, that magic got actually explained in this. Because it felt random.

But that is the thing: That was the point. It is random. Power is random. Privilege is very random. Like, sure, I can tell you from an anthropological and historical perspective, why the people that hold privilege in modern society hold privilege. But in the end it boils down to: it is completely random. History could have gone different in so many places and things would have gone different. There is no actual logical reason for most of it. And especially racism is just a completely stupid ideology, because it assigns value to people based on completely superficial points.

And that is why magic in this show had this very silly, random origin story.

And it is also why in the end magic had to be destroyed. Because magic is the power. Magic is the privilege. And you cannot use privilege to destroy the same privilege top-down. Because for that you have to use it – and the only way you can get rid of it is give it up.

Yes, mind you, you do not have to agree with this thesis. Among the “XY studies” this topic about destroying privilege top-down or bottom-up is something that gets discussed a lot. And not everyone is on the same page. But the thesis this show has is a valid one to have – and the ending all in all was about giving up privilege.

And that, in short, is, why I am very frustrated with people hating on the ending. I am sorry, people found it not narratively fulfilling. But I can tell you: Thematically it was spot-on.

And look, I know at times I sound like a broken record: “Engage with the themes. Please engage with the themes.” Those of you, who read any of my blogs about the punkpunk genre, have read me complain about this a thousand times over. But it is really something that to me is very important, even if it makes me sound like some English literature class teacher. Still, themes are important. Or they should be.

No, not every story out there has a heavy focus on themes. I mean, as I said at the start of this rather long blog post: The original Castlevania show had themes, yes, but it was not fully constructed around them. And again, most of the movies in the MCU for example do not have a lot going on in terms of themes. Some try to have. The Guardians movies and the Black Panther movies somewhat have. So had Eternals. But a lot of the other stuff did not have a lot of thematic layering going on. And that is fine. At times a blue curtain indeed is just a blue curtain because the author liked the color blue, or in case of a movie, because the set decorators had still some blue fabric lying around. That is fine.

But there is quite a lot of media, that does have themes and is trying to say something. No, not all of it is successful in saying the thing it is trying to say, but a lot of stuff is at least trying to say something.

If you have been following this blog at least a few weeks you will know, that I am currently very in love with what James Gunn is doing with the DCU. But times I am wondering: “Is he maybe to heavy handed about the message?” But then I am looking over to how some people misinterpreted The Boys on Amazon Prime – a show that was really not subtle about those themes – and I am thinking to myself: “Yeah, actually, they should probably make more episodes about how fun it is to kill Nazis. Just to make sure everyone has gotten at least that message. You know. The one of us not liking Nazis.”

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

[flemingology]

“just because i got you a gift, doesn’t mean I like you” with alexia 🎄

secret santa ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: a silly christmas tradition defrosts you and alexia's relationship

warnings: emotionally unavailable alexia is a warning on it's own

wc: 5.1k

a/n: probably one of my favs from the series. hope you enjoy!

Making the move to Barça a couple months ago was a much harder decision to take than some people might think. Admittedly, there are a lot of upsides to playing alongside the best players in the world. The standards are high, the training sessions are good, you're in better shape than you've ever been in and you're steadily growing your trophy cabinet. On the other hand, nothing was harder than leaving your family behind in England.

You grew up in London, a steady youth leading the way towards being picked up by the Arsenal academy, where you went through all the youth groups and eventually got picked for the first team. Everything seemed to be going well, you were playing a good amount of minutes, fitting right in to Arsenal's defensive line. The first couple years you couldn't imagine yourself ever playing for a different team than the Gunners, but an injury-ridden year completely changed that. It started with a few niggles that kept you out of the occasional game, but a couple months into the season you suffered a lateral ligament injury to your right ankle, keeping you out for the best part of 3 months. You tried your best to get back into the squad, but you felt like Arsenal had moved past you.

At 27, still one of the best defenders in the game, you let your agent know that you needed a change. It hadn't been easy for you to come to the conclusion that it was better to leave, but you weren't ready to give up on your career yet. Not when you were supposed to be in your peak years now. Endless meetings, phone calls, late night text messages and a lot of turmoil later, the perfect deal struck. You were starting to feel a bit hopeless in your position, so Barça's offer came at the perfect time.

They expressed how they thought you'd be a perfect fit in their defensive line. Standing tall at 5'7, your aerial threat was one of the things they voiced could be helpful to the team. The contract in itself was perfect. They offered you three years, good pay and they would help you with accommodating to Spain – housing, visa, finances, the club would take care of all of that so you could focus on settling in through your football.

It seemed like a no-brainer, but obviously there were two sides to the story. You were determined to get your career back on the right track, but leaving your family behind in England wasn't an easy decision to make. It took a lot of tearful hugs and heartfelt promises to visit from your family, before you managed to cut the cord completely and sign the contract with the Spanish giants. Nonetheless, you always felt like your family supported all your decisions, and just like you they were certain that this was the right move for your career.

Now 3 months later, if anyone asked you, you would still say that this had been the perfect step. You accommodated to the weather fairly quickly, settled into an apartment that the club had found for you, and took up a couple extra language classes on offer to try and master the Spanish language a bit quicker – you had a basic understanding, and you could manage during games and training sessions, but still struggled here and there.

You'd felt at home within the team, too. It was definitely one of the things that had been on your mind prior to your first training session. You were nervous about whether you were going to be good enough, whether they would deem you worthy enough of wearing the blaugrana colors, but any doubts melted away like snow in the sun when you got invited to a team bonding night right as your first training session ended.

You went out for a meal and drinks in one of Barçelona's hidden gems, one that the girls seemed to love. It was clear that they had been here quite a few times, because the waiter knew some of their orders by heart. You bonded with Ingrid throughout the night, both of you sharing experiences of having to leave your family behind in a different country to play football here. You warmed up to her, she was nice to you and seemed to really like your company, but you stayed a bit distant from the rest of the girls. Everyone was deep in conversation with each other, most of the time conversing in Spanish. You were well aware that they didn't have to involve you in their conversations, you were a 27-year-old adult at last who could stand up for themself, but you found it hard to really integrate fully with the tight group that had seemed to form over the years. From a different point of view, it might've seemed that you were uninterested and not bothered trying to mingle with the rest of the team, but that wasn't the case at all. Although, that wasn't what people picked up. Especially not the captain.

You've not had more than a handful conversations with Alexia, ever since you signed for Barça. In the beginning, you tried putting it off to the fact you both weren't entirely comfortable in the other's language. But as time went on and you got settled more and more into the team, playing more minutes and getting closer to most of the girls, you couldn't just put it down to that anymore. You had tried a couple times in the early days of you transfer to string together a conversation with the Spanish midfielder, but you never got further than the odd "Hola" or "Good game, Ale". You tried to shrug it off, but you couldn't say that it didn't bother you. Alexia seemed open and chatty towards your teammates, but seemed to block off the second you neared within a 5-meter radius from her. And even though you had bonded quite well with her best friend and her girlfriend, they didn't seem to want to say anything about it.

A couple weeks had passed, and you found yourself in a meeting talking about the month ahead. December would be busy, UWCL games ramping up and the league and cup to keep up with. There was a lot of tactical talk going on and while you know you shouldn't, you zoned out a bit, tired from the already long day – and it was far from over. You had an appointment planned with the physios after the meeting, a quick routine check for your ankle, but they would need to take some tests here and there, pushing your relaxing on your couch tonight even further back on the agenda. You got pulled out of your thoughts when the tone in the meeting changed, going from very stern and tactical to a little bit lighter, and it wasn't until you noticed the powerpoint slide that you understood why.

SECRET SANTA

Your eyes widened in surprise and a small smile grew on your lips, a light hum of chatter making it's way through the meeting room as some girls rehashed up some memories from the year before. You hadn't expected secret santa to be a tradition within the Barça squad, but you found it fun. Otherwise so very composed and professional, it was nice to see a different side to the club and the staff.

"Okay, girls! As you can see from the powerpoint slide, we're doing secret santa again this year! Last season went well and we thought we should reintegrate it again. We're going to draw names now in the meeting, and then we'll arrange a date further down the line when we figure out what our schedule will look like." A couple staff members explained the ins and outs a bit further for anyone who had never participated in the lighthearted Christmas tradition, and then the name drawing started. Someone had written everyone's names on little pieces of paper and put them in a bowl, letting it go round the meeting room and having everyone take one. You were sat near the back, so there was only a couple pieces of paper left when it was your turn. You picked one and shielded away from Esmee and Keira who were on either side of you, reading the name that was written on the paper. Mapi Léon. A smile crept on your lips upon reading your defensive partner's name. You didn't give in to Keira’s prying and soon the meeting concluded, sending everyone on their way for the next part of their day.

Most of the girls were headed home now, but you made your way to the physio's office. They checked a couple things and made you do a couple tests, measuring and calculating whatever they deemed necessary to ensure that your ankle was perfectly fine. Lucky for you, it didn't take long as you thought it would. You were the only one that still needed treatment, so the physios were able to round off their checklist for you quite smoothly. You were sent on your way with a pat on the shoulder, telling you to keep it up the way you were doing – both on the pitch and with your ankle. You shrugged it off at the time but you couldn't deny the way it made you feel a little warm inside. You were still quite self-conscious about yourself and your football here in Barçelona, so it was more than welcome to get a compliment about it, especially from someone that isn't the coach.

December was rough. You thought you'd get a little reprieve from cold winters as you now were a bit more south compared to England, but you were fooled. It was cold, it was busy, the training sessions only getting harder as the games ramped up in both domestic competitions and the Champions League. The month felt like it was going on forever but eventually you reached the end. Your final training session of the week, Thursday, but more importantly secret santa day. After you wrapped up both the outside and indoor session, everyone went for a shower and then gathered in the cafeteria. You all had some post-workout food and then got together at one big table, conversation flowing easily as everyone prepared to receive and give their gifts. You were one of the first who had to give their present. You'd gotten Mapi a big batch of her favorite coffee blend, along with a couple different syrups for her to try. You knew she loved her coffee and you hoped she'd be happy with it, but a subtle nudge from Ingrid had set you up in the right way and you were quite certain that the Spaniard would be pleased with your present.

"Oooh, muy bien!" Mapi wore a bright smile as she opened your present, clearly happy with what you bought her. Ingrid and you shared a knowing look before her girlfriend pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a smacking kiss against your cheek in thanks. Your cheeks flushed a little when you realized the two of you were in the centre of attention, quickly sitting back down and letting the afternoon roll on. What you didn't notice, though, whilst you and your defensive partner were sharing an embrace, was the jealous look in Alexia's eye.

Admittedly, she had been cold to you, some would even say it was borderline rude the way she treated you ever since you came in. But she had a reason. And she knew damn well that didn't excuse her behavior, but she couldn't bring herself to either telling you what was on her mind or dropping her cold act. So she kept it going, knowing it made you uncomfortable, although that was the last thing she wanted to do. In reality, Alexia had started developing some feelings for you. None very deep, because how in the world would that be possible based on nothing more than a handful three-sentence conversations, but you had piqued her interest. Your hard-working nature, the way you held yourself, your professionalism – but who would she fool if she said she didn't find you attractive. It might've been the biggest one, even. Alexia felt attracted to you. But by the time she realized that, she'd kept the cold act up for so long that she didn't think there was a way back, so instead of confessing to you she only acted more distant and more cold. She knew she was in the wrong, but an opportunity had popped up to make it up to you and she wasn't going to let it slip.

Time flowed easily, and before you knew it your name was called. Your eyes shot around the room to see who would get up, but seeing her walk over to the pile of presents was the last thing you'd expected. Alexia's light expression that she was wearing earlier, had changed to the stone cold one that she wore whenever she was in close proximity with you. You noticed how neatly wrapped her present was. A beautiful beige wrapping paper, with gold accents here and there, topped off with a small black ribbon. She came to stand beside you, propping one of her arms on the back of your chair, leaning her body over to you and dropping the present on your lap. You were well aware of how close the Spaniard was to you right now, probably closer than she'd ever been. When she didn't say anything, you just went to unwrap the package that was heavy in your lap. You didn't recognize the packaging immediately, but when you realized what was underneath the wrapping paper you could feel a couple tears pricking your eyes.

An array of British snacks and comfort foods sat in your lap, from Cadbury chocolates to Walkers crisps, digestives and so much more. You hadn't expected such a thoughtful present from anyone, especially not Alexia. You quickly wiped away a stray tear that had escaped your eye, quickly standing up and turning your body towards Alexia. "Thank you," you said, not knowing what to do with your hands as you played with the rings on your fingers. You were more than thankful that most of the girls weren't paying attention to the interaction, most of them caught up with their own presents or inspecting what others had gotten. "Can I give you a hug?" You didn't want to overstep any boundaries, but you wanted to thank her appropriately for the present. You'd never voiced to her directly that you missed home, so it was clear that she'd just been paying attention. Maybe more than you thought she had been. Alexia didn't respond verbally but pulled you in a hug, awkwardly patting your back as she didn't know what to do with herself. In reality, she wanted to pull you tight, rub comforting patterns across your back and press a kiss against your crown but she knew that was a place she wouldn't return from. So instead, she did the next best thing; push you further away. "Just because I got you this, doesn't mean I like you."

Your body tensed up at her words and you suddenly noticed the burning sensation of her arms around you, quickly removing yourself from the embrace and sitting back down, nearly giving yourself a whiplash from the sheer force that you backed away from the midfielder with. You'd allowed yourself to get comfortable in the hug, sensing as if you two were crossing a bit of the boundaries that had been present ever since you met one another, but her comment put you right back where you started – maybe even further. The interaction didn't go lost on Mapi, who whispered something in Alexia's ear as she passed the defender to go back to her seat, Mapi clearly angry at her.

You sulked for the remainder of the evening, knowing you were being a pain in the ass but you couldn't bring it in you to care this time. When you said your goodbyes and made your way out of the facility later that evening, you felt a hand tugging you back before you could open the door of your car. Startled by the unexpected touch, you clutched your chest where your heart would be as your eyes met Ingrid's. "Ingrid, don't scare me like that, for god's sake," you said, playfully hitting the Norwegian's shoulder who only laughed at your reaction. The conversation soon took a turn, though, when she mentioned the earlier events. "Hey, about Alexia, I kno-", she started, although you didn't let her finish. "Ingrid, it's fine. She doesn't like me, I get it. I'll just steer clear from her. I don't need it to be told to my face, we can just avoid one another and everything will be fine."

Ingrid closed her eyes and shook her head, placing a hand on your arm that was animatedly waving along as you spoke. "No. God, no. You're so wrong." "I'm wrong? Ingrid, you heard what she said to me. I don't think I need more confirmation than what she verbally told me a couple hours ago." The Norwegian pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh, before she spoke up again. "I know this is going to sound weird, but Alexia doesn't hate you. She doesn't dislike you, not at all. It's quite the opposite, if you ask me."

"The opposite?" you asked, a confused lilt in your voice as you urged Ingrid to speak further. "She'll give me hell for telling you this, but I can't just be a bystander to this anymore. She's hurting you." Ingrid took a deep breath and looked you in the eye. "Alexia likes you. And she doesn't know what to do about it. So she does what she does know, and that's pushing you away. I, uhm, agree that it isn't the way she should handle it and certainly not like she did just earlier, but she doesn't know any better." Your thoughts ran rampant in your head, thinking about all the conversations and interactions you had in the past months and gauging whether there was any point where Alexia acted like she liked you, even for a moment. "Ingrid, what the hell are you talking about?" You raised your voice, to which she put a hand on your shoulder, reminding you that you were outside the parking lot just outside the facility. "I know it sounds insane. I didn't believe it either when Mapi told me, but you know she wouldn't lie to her best friend about that. Now, I don't know how you feel about her, but I suggest you talk about it. Because she's been sulking about the situation at our house the last couple weeks and I can't bear it anymore. She has to do something about it, and quick."

"Ingrid, I-" "Y/N. Don't argue with me on this. I don't know how you feel about Alexia, but I know how it's been weighing on you that she's been treating you like this. If anything, it's just an opportunity to clear some of the tension. If you don't want to do it for her, do it for me and Maria." You nodded, begrudgingly, but you nodded nonetheless. You didn't say much more because you needed some time to process what the Norwegian told you, so you sent her away with another promise to text Alexia and then drove home. You took your time that evening to process everything. You thought back to the couple months, and the newfound information still felt like a fever dream. Alexia liked you. Liked liked you. You couldn't say it didn't flatter you. You also couldn't say that some of those feelings weren't mutual, but you'd need some time to explore those. And you'd need lots of time and conversations with Alexia before you could move past the way she treated you the past months. But you were ready to give it a try. So later that night, you sent the Spanish midfielder a text, secretly hoping that Ingrid had notified her that she'd told you, softening the blow a little bit already.

To: Alexia Hey, Alexia. I'm not sure how to approach this, but here goes nothing. I spoke to Ingrid today about us, and about you, I assume she told you this? I don't want to wave this away and say I think the way you treated me is excused now that I know the reason behind it. I know you know that too, and I'd love to talk about that if you are open to do so too. Nonetheless, I was still shocked when Ingrid told me the reasoning behind your behavior. I didn't expect it and it still feels a bit like a fever dream. I'm flattered, even? I'd love to explore it, Ale, but we'll have to talk about some things first.

You sent the message before you could overthink any of your word choices, and plopped down on the couch. You wanted to set your mind to the show that was playing on tv, but you couldn't focus – your thoughts seemingly unable to drift away from Alexia. You thought about what you wanted to say to her, how you wanted to word whatever you were feeling, but right before you could dive in the deep end of your feelings you heard a notification sound coming from your phone, slightly startling you. You picked it up with haste, eager to see what the blonde had replied.

From: Alexia Hola :) I'm sorry you had to find out through Ingrid, that's not fair on you. I know I should've told you and I know I've been childish about it, but I didn't know what to do with myself. I completely understand if my behavior has put a barrier between the two of us, because I've been nothing short of immature. I would love to talk to you about things, because I've been silent about it all for long enough. If you're down, I could call you? I hope you're enjoying your present.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the mention of her present, glancing over to the basket of snacks that was placed on your coffee table. You grabbed a packet of crisps and sat back on the couch, enjoying the salty snack while you typed a response to Alexia.

To: Alexia It's okay. I can understand where you're coming from, but I'm glad you're acknowledging that it was immature. I loved the present. What you said while I hugged you confused me even further, and I know I was killing the mood after that. I'm sorry for that. But thank you, it means so much to me. I'd love to call, but could you maybe come over instead? I'd prefer it if you were near, but don't worry if you can't. I know it's late and it's been a rough week.

From: Alexia I'll be right there.

You hadn't put your phone down as another message from Alexia chimed in, letting you know she was on her way to your place. You decided not to question how she knew your address, assuming she probably got it from Maria or Ingrid. You quickly freshened up a little, brushing your hair and putting on some fresh clothes, still in your training attire from earlier. You tidied a little, putting dishes in the dishwasher and rearranging your cushions as a knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You opened the door to a sight you thought you'd never see. Alexia was sporting a small smile, a thin layer of sweat present on her face from the rush she was in coming here. In her hands was a small bouquet of red roses, and you wondered where she'd found the time to pick those up along the way. You felt warm inside and ushered the blonde to come inside, not wanting her to be in the cold hallway much longer.

"Hi," you said softly, still feeling a little apprehensive whenever she was around. Old manners died hard. "Hi. These are for you." Alexia stretched her arm out and gave you the bouquet of flowers, which you gratefully took and put in the empty vase on your kitchen counter. "Thank you so much. You know you didn't have to do that but, uhm, they're really nice. Thank you. I still needed some for this vase, clearly," you chuckled, your cheeks flushing slightly red at the loving gesture from the Spanish midfielder. You were still struggling to wrap your mind around the shift in behavior from Alexia, grown very used to her stone cold personality whenever you were around her. It was a very welcome change, but it was one that you'd have to get used to.

"Do you want a drink?" You asked Alexia, who was seemingly lost in thought while she looked around your apartment, taking in her surroundings. You decided to let her do that and fill up two glasses of water for you and her, slowly making your way over to the living room where she was looking through your vinyl collection. "You've settled in nicely, I really like how you decorated your apartment," Alexia said when she heard you shuffling around behind you. A bright smile crept on your face at the compliment. "Thanks. I've spent a lot of time trying to make it look cozy. Being that far away from my family and friends, it's just nice to have a place that feels like home." "I can imagine. I've never moved away from here and I've never had to struggle with something like you are right now, but I can imagine it's not easy at all. You're doing great." You looked away from Alexia's gaze as you felt your cheeks heating up again. "Do you want to sit?" You tried to steer the conversation away from the current topic, earning a nod from Alexia as she sat down on your couch, opposite to you.

You talked for hours on end, the conversation topics ranging from your family to hers, to your move to Barçelona and what sparked it, to how you've been feeling at the club, to eventually the – still slightly apprehensive – relationship between the two of you. Talking to Alexia felt easy, something you never thought you'd say. She was interested, listened with intent and really seemed like wanted to hear what you were saying. She asked questions, tried to understand your views on things and voiced back exactly how she felt. You hadn't expected her to be so open about her feelings after everything that happened the past couple of months, so it was a welcome change for the blonde to put her heart out like that. When you felt like she adequately expressed her feelings about you, you too talked about your own. You said that you really wanted to explore things between you, that you couldn't deny the blonde's charming energy and that you had found yourself gutted with how little the two of you had bonded over your first couple months in Barçelona – more than eager to make up for lost time.

When the night came to an end, you could feel a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and Alexia felt the same. It had been nothing less than a burden for her to carry around, forever dancing around feelings that she didn't know how to express, pushing you further than she ever wanted to do. She was eternally grateful for the opportunity you were giving her by wanting to talk to her.

"Thank you, honestly. You didn't owe me anything and yet you gave me the chance to explain everything and talk about my feelings. I owe you one." You smiled brightly at Alexia and waved away her comments. "Don't worry about it. We've talked about it, we're okay. I understand where you were coming from. It's fine, Ale, I promise. I'm glad you came to terms with it."

The two of you started to make moves towards your front door, knowing you should end your conversations and call it a day, but with the prospect of a day off tomorrow and no training to wake up for, neither of you really felt the intent to wrap it up. Nonetheless, a couple moments later Alexia found herself in the hallway, leaning against your doorframe as you talked a little more, wrapping up your conversation.

You noticed Alexia looking down at her feet, playing with her fingers before she lifted her head and locked eyes with you again. "I might not be in the position to ask you this right now, but would you maybe want to go on a... date together?" You chuckled at Alexia's nervousness, a slightly red tint covering her cheeks as she spoke. You took one of her hands in yours and nodded fiercely, a smug grin covering your lips. "Yeah, I'd love to. Text me, okay? I'm free whenever." Alexia's smile grew wider with each word you spoke, the Spanish midfielder giddy about the prospect of taking you on a date. "I will. I promise. I should get going now, it's getting late." "You should. Be safe getting home. Have a good night, Ale."

You pressed a soft kiss to Alexia's cheek after wishing her a good night, causing the midfielder to blush deeper than she already had been. She stumbled over her words as she wished you another goodnight, clumsily walking backwards and gripping the handrail as she nearly fell head first on the first step of the stairs of your apartment block. You couldn't hold back the chuckle as you watched Alexia steady herself and rush down the stairs. "Be careful, capi!" you yelled after her, earning nothing more than a grumble and some Spanish curse words that you couldn't make out.

Sticking to her promise, Alexia was way more open with her feelings moving further. You went on a couple dates, you shared a few kisses and before you knew it you were dating. If someone told you that goddamn Secret Santa was what would bring you two closer, and eventually start a relationship, you would've never believed them.

[narnian-neverlander]

One of the Fools [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Preview: You don’t miss the way he slightly, unconsciously, taps his cane against his bad leg and your heart shatters. Running your thumb over the back of his hand, you swallow any remaining self pity and instead focus on trying to at least give him some comfort and stop him from spiraling any further. “That’s ridiculous. I love being with you; it doesn’t matter wether people are watching or not.” He scoffs. “Of course it matters. The way people perceive me will rub off on how they perceive you. I can keep a distance as your friend, but as your lover? Please. You shouldn’t have to put up with the ridicule that would come along with it.”

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 11,2k (I don’t know how this happened, I’m so sorry)

Warnings: self loathing, internalized ableism, mentions of human trafficking, slight smut (not super descriptive, but not subtle either)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: I originally planned on a fade to black with the smut, but I’m feral for this man so have this instead. This is also the most christmas-y thing you’ll ever get from me, so merry early crisis I guess ✨

What are you so scared of?

It’s the same question you arrive at over and over again as you pace the length of your kitchen, teeth bruising your cuticles, mind racing.

What if you asked him out on a date? Told him you’re head over heels in love with him?

What’s the worst that could happen?

Rejection. Deep down you know that’s it. Of him not wanting the love you’re offering, not wanting you, all of you.

Would he though?

All evidence to the contrary, if you’re truly being honest with yourself. And if you dare believe Jayce.

You’ll never know unless you actually tell him.

Uncomfortable, but true. Not to mention you aren’t sure you can keep it a secret from him for much longer. That dance after the gala had been the closest you’d been to crossing the line. And while you’d decided against it on that particular evening, part of you regrets that. Part of you had wanted to finally confess. To finally know. The fear had won that night, but you’re oh so tired of being scared. Of pretending that what you two currently have is enough.

Groaning, you scrub your hands over your face in irritation, your pacing coming to a stop to stare at the solution to all your troubles: two small, rectangular pieces of cardboard on your kitchen table. You pick them up, the light in your apartment making the gold lettering shimmer. It reminds you of the way Viktor’s eyes light up anytime he talks about something he’s passionate about.

Fuck it. Now or never.

The next day at about noon, you enter academy grounds, your solution safely tucked into a pocket inside your heavy winter coat. Luckily enough, you arrive just in time to have a student holding the door open for you, your own hands full with bags of food, and you quickly thank her as you duck inside.

You’ll never know how these two managed without you; they might be certified geniuses, but they’re both absolutely piss poor at taking care of themselves. Like remembering to eat. So over time, a mutually beneficial, symbiotic relationship had developed: you keep them from accidentally starving themselves and they play guinea pigs for your new recipes in return. Not to mention gossip about the Hextech pioneers frequenting your restaurant hadn’t exactly hurt your business.

You encounter the same problem from earlier in the form of a different closed door when you reach the lab; a shortlived problem when said door opens so rapidly it almost smacks you in the face and what happens next is mostly a blur, but you’re fairly certain you just watched Jayce sprint past you with something in his arms that was definitely smoking. Maybe still burning, you can’t be sure. Peeking your head through the open archway, just to make sure you’re not about to walk into a fire hazard, you only find Viktor at the open windows, coughing terribly and trying to wave remnants of thick black smoke outside.

“You know this is exactly why I don’t let either one of you anywhere near my kitchen, right?” you state matter-of-factly as you place your bags on one of the desks, making your friend jump in alarm. Try as you might to suppress it, a highly amused snicker leaves your lips as you take in the state of him: face covered in soot, hair an absolute mess and parts of his clothes singed. Still giggling, you unwrap the dish towel from one of the containers you brought and hold it out to him. “A wise choice, evidently.” he groans, trying to clean himself up as much as the current circumstances would allow. It’s… a hopeless cause, really, and with a click of your tongue you snatch the towel back from him and before he can protest, grab his chin with your other hand. He stills immediately, blinking at you in surprise with big eyes that seem all the brighter than usual in direct comparison to his dirty face. Heat creeps up your cheeks under his intense gaze, but you try to ignore it and focus on the task at hand. “There, that’s as good as it’s gonna get. Probably. You should take a shower before going back out into public, though.”

“There’s plenty of public between here and my shower.” he remarks, which earns him a deadpan “So go home when it’s dark.” He tries to make a grab for you, smear some of the soot on your own face in retaliation, but you manage to avoid him and get out of his reach all together just in time. “Please, like you ever go home before that anyways. When did you last see actual sunlight?” You immediately know you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next, with the all-knowing smirk forming on his face. He throws a thumb over his shoulder at the open windows, rays of sunlight filtering into the room, breaking up the remaining bits of smoke. “Right now.”

Your mumbled ‘Oh for the love of—‘ is so quiet, you don’t expect him to hear it, but he does and the bastard actually has the audacity to laugh at you. And you can’t possibly stay mad at him while he’s laughing, not when it’s one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. So you just roll your eyes and busy yourself with unpacking the rest of the lunch you brought while he makes his way over to the blackboard and starts erasing and rewriting a huge chunk of calculations, presumably to avoid the same mistake happening again. Hopefully.

Finally shrugging out of your coat and placing it over a nearby chair, you catch a glimpse of gold letters on dark blue cardboard and immediately feel your palms get sweaty. Right. You came here for a reason. “Hey, Vik? You, uh… you got a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something.” A quick look over his shoulder at you, a small smile, a teasing glint in his eyes and “For you? Always.” is all it takes for your heart to pick up speed. For your nerves to be replaced by something soothing and warm. For you to know that you’re doing the right thing and you never should’ve doubted it. So you snatch the cards out of your pocket and close the distance between you quickly as you explain.

“Well, you know how in preparation for Progress Day in a few weeks, Piltover is hosting expositions from pioneers out of all kinds of fields?” He nods, so you place the two tickets in your hand on the desk between you and he picks up one of them, studying the fine, shimmering cursive and ornate details. The card alone already looks like it cost a fortune, so he can’t even imagine what event it would grant one access to. “One of them is a traveling market. It’s mostly about food, but there’s merchants and inventors from all over the world all very conveniently put into the same space. And… And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go there with me?” He’s quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet. And yet the way he’s still staring at the ticket in his hand with pinched brows tells you that the gears in his head are turning faster than you can keep up, so when he opens his mouth to respond, you beat him to it, anxiety back in full swing, forcing the words out of your mouth before you can think too much about any of this. “It’s… This is something I’ve been dreaming about for a long time. Worked my ass off for years to maybe get a chance to go there. It’s really important to me, so—“

“Then I definitely shouldn’t be the one to accompany you.”

The laugh you let out is soft, disbelieving. You must’ve heard him wrong, misunderstood him. “What?”

Denial.

“If it’s that important to you, you should take someone who’d be able to appreciate it the same way you can.”

There’s something hot and ugly that flares up in your chest. “Well, they’re my tickets and it’s my decision. And I’m asking you.”

Anger.

A sigh as he places the card down on the desk and turns back to the chalkboard. “And I appreciate that. But you said it yourself: Progress Day is coming up and we have plenty to do. And as you saw earlier it’s not going along quite as smoothly as we’d hoped.”

“The market isn’t just for a single day and the tickets are good for whenever. I’m sure you could take one day off…?”

Bargaining.

The way he says your name is gentle and hushed and you never thought it could pain you so much to hear him say it like that. “I’m grateful you thought of me, I truly am, but I’m just… now isn’t a good time for me to get distracted. Please just find someone else to take?” The look in his eyes is pleading, desperate almost. No, not desperate. Exasperated.

You’d told him that this was something incredibly precious to you and… and he simply doesn’t care. Or rather, he doesn’t care enough. About how much this means to you. About how much going with him would’ve meant to you. This wasn’t something akin to the violent, ridiculing rejection you’d envisioned this was… uninterested apathy, at best, bored annoyance at worst. And somehow that hurts on a different level entirely. A level you didn’t even know existed until now, as your heart feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.

Depression.

He’s not even looking at you anymore, back turned to you and busy with scrawling numbers in white chalk on the board again. Limbs heavy and shaky, you take your self imposed solution to your problem back and cradle the cards close to your chest. It had been a solution; it had given you clarity on where exactly you stood with him and it wasn’t where you thought. Getting dressed, you shuffle over to the door and leave him with “I’m sorry I bothered you with this. Won’t happen again.”

Acceptance.

The thud of the door closing seems to echo through the quiet lab too loudly, golden eyes immediately darting to where you just left. And Viktor bangs his head against the blackboard in front of him a few times as he sucks in a sharp breath.

Why didn’t he just say yes? He’d wanted to more than anything else in the world. The vile, little voices in the back of his head are quick to answer: ‘Because they deserve better than you. You know that.’

He does know that. It’s why he turned you down in the first place. It doesn’t make the pain that had been so clearly written all over your face at his rejection any easier to bear. But he picked this particular form of torture himself and now he has to live with it. You both do.

Meanwhile, you at least manage to make it to one of the exits before the first tears start falling and you stop in your tracks to wipe a sleeve over your eyes. Big mistake, you should’ve just left. A call of your name from down the hall and your head whips up to find Jayce waving and jogging towards you.

Shit. Fuck. Please no, not right now.

Pulling your scarf up over your nose, you try to hide as much of your face as you can in the short amount of time it takes him to reach you. “Done with the daily food delivery?” he jokes and you simply nod. “You’re a lifesaver. With Progress Day coming up we’re even busier than usual, you know.” He barely catches you mumbling ‘So I’ve been told’ into your scarf and the smile on his face slowly disappears. Something’s off. He figures a change of topic might help and gestures at your hand. “What’s that?”

The text on the tickets blurs just like the rest of your vision; they feel as heavy as your heart, dragging you down and making it hard to breathe. Just looking at the things makes you nauseous now. Blinking back the tears, you hold them out to him. “They’re a gift. For you. It’s a market in town for the Progress Day celebrations and supposedly it’s good fortune to visit it with your lover. If you’re the superstitious sort, I suppose. I figured maybe you could take Mel.”

He takes the cards from you and you immediately shove your hands into your pockets so he won’t get any ideas about handing them back. “That’s… really sweet? But wouldn’t you rather ask Viktor?” There’s a teasing edge to his tone, one you know all too well and normally you’d respond in kind; it’s a practiced dance between you two at this point. It seems today, you’ve forgotten the steps. “I did. He wasn’t interested.”

The double take he does might’ve been amusing, even comical, under any other circumstances, but it just adds insult to injury for you right now. So you bid him goodbye and flee out the door before he can even think about questioning you. Never one to leave well enough alone, Jayce just does the next best thing instead: make a beeline for the lab and question Viktor.

He finds his partner hunched over his notebook on a desk, in an at least somewhat cleaner state than he left him in, and immediately grabs the backrest of his stool to swivel him around, sending the pen in his hand flying in shock. He waves two all too familiar pieces of dark blue cardboard in front of Viktor. “Explain this to me?”

Confusion on his face, then resigned indifference in his tone; a clear sign that he’s already very done with this conversation. “You too? I did not think that was your kind of venue.” Jayce rolls his eyes in return. “They’re not mine. Guess who just gave these to me in the hall.” That brings his attention back on track. “That… that makes no sense. They were just in here telling me how going there has been a lifelong dream; why would they just give their tickets to you?”

The brunette straightens up and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Why indeed. You tell me.” Viktor throws up his hands in bewilderment. “And how would I know? You talked to them last.” Jayce’s mouth is set in an irritated thin line as he shrugs. “And you were the one who talked to them last before they fled this building in tears.”

All the annoyance and grievance disappears at once, replaced by something much worse. Dread. Guilt. Downright horror.

You’d been crying?

“That’s not what I… I didn’t meant to—“

A heavy sigh from Jayce interrupts him. “I’m sure you didn’t. And I wasn’t here so I can’t know what happened. What I do know,” he starts and then hoists Viktor up from his seat, pressing his cane into his hand and tucking the tickets safely into his vest pocket. “Is that I’m not letting you back in the lab until you fix this.”

“What?! Jayce don’t be ridiculous.” he protests as his friend shoos him towards the exit. “Our presentation for Progress Day just blew up right in our faces; this is too much work for you alone, I need to—“ Another interruption, this time in the form of his own name and it makes him pause. The look on Jayce’s face is calm and determined and Viktor has learned by now that when he looks like that, he’s usually about to say something terribly important. Usually something terribly true as well, for better or for worse.

“You really hurt them this time, V. Unintentional, I know, but still.” Viktor flinches at that; not as unintentional as his partner might think. But he’d considered it a necessary evil for your own good. “You don’t do something… I don’t think they’re gonna come back. Is that what you want? A life without them in it?”

Viktor hates being right sometimes. Terribly important and terribly true. Exhaling sharply, he runs a hand through his hair and states “I… I’m not sure I can. Fix it, I mean.” He grabs his coat off the wall nonetheless. A slight upturn of the corner of Jayce’s mouth is the first sign of brevity since he’d entered the room. “You’re about to find out. But you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t at least try.”

Shrugging on his coat, he tries very hard to look annoyed at his friend’s uninvited interference, but he knows he can’t fool the man opposite of him. “There are times when I can’t stand you being right, you are aware, yes?” The slight quirk of Jayce’s lips turns into a full blown, gap-toothed grin. “Nah, you love me and all my infinite wisdom. Now get outta here before I carry you to their doorstep myself.”

Viktor had managed to talk him out of that one, but now, a shower and a few hours later, alone in his apartment, he considers taking Jayce up on his offer after all. He couldn’t find the courage to go see you and now he’s sitting on his worn, little couch, watching the light slowly dwindle and die outside his windows and it all feels oh so awfully fitting. His floor is littered with crumpled up sheets of paper; when he hadn’t been able to formulate even one clear sentence in his mind, he’d decided writing out what he wanted to say to you might help. Except… he’s not sure what that even is.

‘I’m sorry, I think myself so utterly undeserving of you, I broke your heart before you could give it to me, please forgive me?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he reaches for the cup of coffee on his table, only for his hand to freeze halfway as he notices the corner of a book peeking out from under the mess of papers and he recognizes it as a tome you lent him for some light reading and ‘variety in his narrow minded palette’. Grabbing it instead, a dark blue cover with golden lettering stares back at him, the irony of the design not lost on him. It’s laughable, how the thing that’s gonna solve his dilemma looks almost exactly like the thing that started it. So he takes out a new sheet of paper, cracks open the book and gets to work. This would have to be perfect; if this would cost him another all nighter, so be it.

Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?

The memory almost knocks the wind out of him and the hand furiously scribbling notes stills. He has to make this right. He’d beg and grovel and get on his knees if he had to, not for your forgiveness, he really doesn’t deserve that anyways, but to make you understand that you were never the problem in the first place. That you had done nothing wrong. It’s the very least you deserve.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Maybe you should’ve thought that one through a bit more thoroughly. But even if you had, this wouldn’t have made your list, you think.

It’s been almost a full day now since you fled the scene of the worst heartbreak of your life. You’d let your friend and head of staff know that you weren’t gonna come in today and then had just collapsed onto your couch. Grief and shame are suffocating you, weighing you down like lead; the bright, warm sunlight shining through your windows a stark contrast to your dark mood.

‘You should’ve seen this coming…’ the nasty voices in the back of your head whisper and they’re right. He’s grown tired of your company and why wouldn’t he? You’re disgustingly ordinary, especially compared to him, you always had been, even all the way back when you were both children. While he was busy with his newest invention, you were busy getting punched in the face because you’d gotten in over your head again. And yet he was always there to patch you back up and lighten your mood. The little mechanical cat he’d once built you to cheer you up still sits on your shelf, watching over you with eyes as gold as his own, though it’s gaze feels cruel and mocking today.

He’s been your rock, your light, your everything whenever he managed to be in your life and what do you have to offer in return? Some half decent food and the occasional witty banter? It’s a miracle he didn’t leave you behind for better things a long time ago. He should’ve. You’ve done nothing but drag him down and pull him away from more important matters, this is for the best.

A knock on your door distracts you from your self loathing momentarily; a knock you decisively ignore. Whoever it is can come back when you’re not busy hating yourself and wallowing in self pity. The person outside your apartment apparently has other ideas and knocks again. And again. And again. Groaning you roll off the couch and shuffle towards the unwelcome noise.

Maybe it’s Jayce, with your tickets in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other, all dressed up and wanting to take you out just to lift your spirits, because you know you didn’t manage to hide your sorrows from him well enough. It’s something he’d do, bless his heart.

Opening your door, you find you’re half right: there’s flowers and your tickets and from what you can see peeking out from under his open winter coat, a nice vest with a fancy tie. But it’s not Jayce. And you have to blink dumbly several times to make sure you’re not seeing things. “What…” your voice is hoarse from disuse, so you clear your throat and straighten up a little in an all but useless attempt to seem a little more put together. “What are you doing here…?”

Oh. Oh he messed up this time.

Same clothes you left in yesterday, but rumpled and dishelved, hair a mess and dark circles under your puffy, red eyes. He’s never seen you so out of sorts and knowing it’s his fault almost makes his knees buckle under the weight of the guilt. His mouth is dry, but he forces the words out anyways. “I wanted to apologize.” Your answer is quicker than expected, concise but unsure. “For what?” He’d had it all prepared and planned out, but now that you’re here in front of him and he can see what his words did to you, his mind just goes blank. What if he says the wrong thing again? What if he makes things worse?

Watching him open and close his mouth in a desperate attempt to come up with something, you hold up your hand to stop him before he can utter a single word. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He actually startles at that, offense all over his features, because “I beg to differ.”

A heavy sigh as you lean against your doorframe and run a hand through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face before you cross your arms over your chest. Might as well get the whole truth out there, it can’t get much worse. Not to mention you don’t expect to be seeing him again after today. “Listen, Vik— Viktor.” A small part of him withers and dies at the correction from the nickname you’ve been using since childhood to his full name. “I… I was actually trying to ask you out on a date, okay? Suffice to say, you’re definitely not interested. And t-that’s okay, I can’t force someone to love me after all. But I… I still would’ve liked to go together as friends, because this is really important to me and so… so are you. I guess I just overestimated my value in your life.”

What?

The blood in his veins turns to ice. That’s what you think? That’s what his well intentioned rejection of your offer had resulted in?

“It’s not a big deal, I get it.” you continue, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I mean, I dunno why you stuck with me as long as you did. The free food shtick must get old pretty damn quick and I’ve really got nothing else going for me.” A laugh, bitter and self depreciating. “What would someone like you even want with someone as disgustingly ordinary as me.”

“Someone like me…?” he manages to breathe out, mind still reeling from even trying to comprehend what you’re implying. Disgustingly ordinary? Have you gone mad? Your scoff leaves him even more confused. “Someone brilliant. Handsome. Eloquent. Caring. Someone about to change the world. And I’m just… I’m just…”

Boring. Mundane. Inadequate. Worthless.

“Passionate. Witty. Kind. Wonderful. Absolutely perfect.”

You end up choking on your own spit, a noise akin to a dying engine forcing itself out of your throat; half whimper, half sob. What did he just say?

The bewilderment is completely gone from his face, replaced by a fierce determination, fire in in his eyes. “I think… I think there’s been enough talk for now. You should get dressed.” It’s your turn now to be utterly baffled. “Get dressed? Viktor, I’m not gonna—“

He says your name so softly, almost in reverence, you immediately clamp your mouth shut again. “I’m not going to let you miss something you’ve been dreaming about all your life on account of my mistake. You are under no obligation to grant me a chance to fix this, but I would still like to try. I will give you your tickets and leave, but please just promise me you’ll go?”

A cold breeze ruffles your hair, sounds of the nearby river and the bustle of people going about their lives lessening the quiet between you both as you stare at him, wide eyed and slack jawed. “Please?” he repeats, and something inside of you just breaks. No, it’s the opposite, you realize. Something is starting to put itself back together again.

You step aside and incline your head towards your apartment. “Well, get inside. I’m gonna need a minute and I’m not gonna leave you out here in the cold while you wait.” He shakes his head lightly, slowly backing away from your porch. “I shouldn’t. I don’t want to ruin—“ Catching his sleeve before he gets any further you drag him inside and close the door. “Having you around has never ruined anything for me, it only makes things better. Besides, you came all this way and these tickets were expensive.” It makes him feel even guiltier for a moment, but there’s the slightest teasing edge to your voice and the smallest of smiles on your lips, so he considers it worth it. “Alright. Take your time.”

Luckily, the venue for the market isn’t far from your home, because the silences between you two have never been awkward - until now. So you’re beyond relieved and elated when the entrance comes into view, giving you a distraction from the oppressing atmosphere. And you’re honestly a bit surprised at yourself; how quickly your mood lifts the moment you’re surrounded by your passion. Viktor’s watching you almost vibrate out of your skin in excitement as soon as you step through the archways leading into the square. It’s a miracle your head doesn’t snap off with how fast your gaze is turning in every direction, trying to take in everything at once. “Well? This is your playing ground. Lead the way.”

He spends the next hours watching you flit from vendor to vendor, stall to stall, person to person. He himself makes conversation with a few shop owners whose wares catch his attention just fine, but he’s much more interested in you. The way you light up at everything new presented to you. The way you’d actually looked offended and utterly flabbergasted when he’d asked why you weren’t buying anything, because ‘Vik, do you have any idea what it would cost to import these things on a regular basis?! I can’t incorporate that into my recipes, it would ruin me! Doesn’t mean I can’t try to replicate it though…’ And then you’d pulled a pen and a little, frayed notebook out of your pocket, mumbling to yourself as you continued to walk and scribble notes. You’re lost in your own little world and it’s absolutely charming and endearing.

The sun’s slowly starting to dip behind some of the tallest towers in the city, signaling the passage of time as you finish your talk with a man selling fruits from a tropical region. When you look around for your companion, you find him animatedly conversing with a vastaya two tables over and can’t help but grin. You knew he’d fit right in at this place; everyone here is as brilliant and passionate about their projects as he is, after all. When he catches you staring, he waves a little awkwardly, then bids goodbye to his conversation partner and starts to make his way over to you. And that’s when your smile falls, because you don’t miss the way he grimaces slightly. The way he leans on his cane a little heavier than usual. You’ve been up on your feet, walking around almost all day. In the freezing cold. You really are an imbecile.

The poor man actually startles when he reaches you and he doesn’t even get the chance to utter a single word, as he’s immediately hit with “I’m so sorry, Viktor! I know the cold’s awful for your leg, I know that, and yet I still insisted on dragging you along and I really didn’t think any of this through to the end.” You gesture at a nearby bench overlooking the river. “Please, go sit down and take a break, I’ll be right back!” And you’ve disappeared into the crowd before he can argue, so without much of a choice, he goes to sit over on the bench you indicated - he does, however, consider drowning himself in the river for a second. He settles for a hateful, disgusted glance at his aching leg instead.

You’d been so joyful and happy, no traces of the gloom and self loathing from earlier in the day left, and he’d reduced you to a frantic, worried mess. He knew he’d ruin this for you. He shouldn’t have come.

It takes you a good twenty minutes to find your way back to him, a cup of something steaming carefully balanced in your hands and a paper bag under your arm. Handing him the cup, you explain “I remembered seeing an apothecary here, but their stall was on the other end of the venue so it took me a minute. They said this blend’s good for chronic pain and should help quickly.” You don’t tell him about the bag of tea leaves of the exact same blend tucked into your inner coat pocket. Accepting the hot beverage with a small thanks, he takes a careful sip as you settle down next to him on the wooden bench. It’s the same horrendous, uncomfortable silence between you as earlier and you despise it. You’d felt as if you’d taken the first steps back towards normalcy in the last few hours and then you had to go and ruin it by not even being able to consider his wellbeing. You’re not able to do anything right, are you?

In dire need of a distraction from your own thoughts, you reach into the bag you brought for one of the treats you’d surprisingly found in the apothecary’s repertoire and as you spin the sweet chestnut between gloved fingers, the lights from the fair glinting off of it’s purple-ish blue shell, an idea strikes you like lightning. It’s not much, ridiculous and laughable even, but it’s worth a shot. Anything to make the air between you less suffocating.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?” When he nods, you strip off your gloves and peel off the thin shell, grinding it to dust as finely as you manage between your palms. Opening them a fraction, you blow into your hands and scatter the remainders into the evening sky; floating and glittery lights in purple and blue, like you’d just created a tiny galaxy between your hands.

“Astonishing…” he whispers, completely spellbound as the last of your self made stars is taken away by the breeze that blows past you.

Shrugging, you state “Its just a little parlor trick. It wouldn’t impress anyone at a fancy Piltover gala, I’m sure.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s a chemical reaction; the oils from your hands they—“

His laugh cuts you off, genuine and clear, as he shakes his head. “No, no, I meant I don’t understand why you always do this. You show me something incredible and then you… belittle it so terribly.” Your features scrunch up in disdain as you disagree. “I’m not belittling anything; this isn’t anything special, it’s—“

“Really?” he interrupts and puts a finger to his chin in mock thought. “I wouldn’t have known to do that. Neither would Jayce. Or anyone at one of those ‘fancy Piltover galas’, I assure you.” He sees you open your mouth and he knows you’d end up protesting yet again so he simply keeps talking. “I spent the last few hours watching you come up with recipes and herbal remedies on the spot, like it’s as natural and easy as breathing to you. You talked about ingredients and spices I can’t even pronounce, much less remember the uses of. You chatted up complete strangers like you’d known them for years and they immediately treated you like family in return. This is exactly why I wanted to come here, to quite literally put you into your area of expertise, before we continued our talk; you can not deny your own accomplishments when they’ve literally just happened. I wanted to prove to yourself that you are not… lesser than me. Lesser than anyone. That you are not… how did you put it? ‘Disgustingly ordinary’? You’re far from it. To me, if nothing else, even though I know it’s not much.” He reaches out with a careful, gloved hand to wipe away the tears you hadn’t even realized were there. “You’re passionate and resilient about everything you put your heart to, you’ve got a mind and tongue so sharp you give most people at the academy a run for their money, you remain kind and open hearted despite all the hardships you’ve had to endure - how could I not respect and rever that? How I could not love that? How could I not love you? All of you?”

A sob manages to wrench itself out of your throat and his heart breaks when the first word out of your mouth is a ‘but’.

“B-but I distract you, and I mess things up and I-I’m not always useful to you and—“

“That’s not what love is supposed to be.”

“It is in my experience...” you whisper and remove his hand from your cheek as you carefully mull over your next move. Wiping a sleeve over your eyes, you get up and offer him your hand. “Come on. I’m starting to freeze and honestly I’d rather not have a breakdown in the middle of a crowded square. Let’s walk and talk?”

A safe distance away from the people and the hustle and bustle, you still haven’t let go off the hand he’d given you. Not that he seems to mind. Good. The contact grounds you as you try to find the right words to continue this difficult conversation.

“My dad… he chose me. Saved me from a pretty bad time in my life. So I always tried to be useful; useful for him, for the restaurant. Because if I stopped being useful, then… maybe he wouldn’t want me anymore. Maybe he’d leave me behind for something better. Cause maybe if I’d been more useful, my birth parents wouldn’t have sold me. The first people in my life who were supposed to love me unconditionally and they just… couldn’t. Wouldn’t. So I guess I just never saw how anyone else would be able to.”

A squeeze of your intertwined hands is all you need to find the courage to keep going.

“I know how to love others, I can do that. What I don’t know is how to let myself be loved in return? I always attach all these rules and requirements to it that are impossible to keep up with and I know I’m only sabotaging myself but—“ Another sob, and you just decide to stop talking and to take some deep, slow breaths instead so you won’t have a full meltdown in public, even if the street you’re currently on is fairly empty.

Viktor keeps the one hand you have a hold of right where it is, gently bringing you to a halt. “You deserve to be loved not because of your contributions, but for you, without any rules or requirements. You are worth more than what you can give to other people.” An inelegant snort leaves you as you give him a look that’s a tad more judgmental than strictly necessary. “Sweet, but a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” When he doesn’t answer you simply raise your brows and purse your lips, you know he understands what you’re talking about; while your situations are different, he’s as hopeless as you are in regards to the way he perceives himself. A sigh, his shoulders slump and his gaze wanders out across the river, the sun’s last rays reflecting off the water’s surface.

“I initially turned you down specifically because this is important to you. Because this is a place where you get to shine and be proud of yourself and I didn’t want to… taint that. It occurs to me I never actually apologized to you, because while my rejection might’ve been well-intentioned, I still hurt you and I am sorry for that. And while I want to say it came from a place of love and care for you that would only be a partial truth. The truth is that I simply don’t think I belong in the light that you bring with you anymore than I belong in the lights up on stage with Jayce. Where everything is bright and people will… see. See me, standing beside people who could, should, clearly do better for themselves.”

You don’t miss the way he slightly, unconsciously, taps his cane against his bad leg and your heart shatters. Running your thumb over the back of his hand, you swallow any remaining self pity and instead focus on trying to at least give him some comfort and stop him from spiraling any further. “That’s ridiculous. I love being with you; it doesn’t matter wether people are watching or not.” He scoffs. “Of course it matters. The way people perceive me will rub off on how they perceive you. I can keep a distance as your friend, but as your lover? Please. You shouldn’t have to put up with the ridicule that would come along with it.”

“I don’t care how other people see me. Or you. Or us. I care how you see yourself.” Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you coax him to look at you and the affection that’s clearly written all over your face threatens to force the tears burning behind his eyes to spill. “And Gods I wish you could see yourself the way I do. That you could see the man I love so much, cause I think you’d like him, actually. He always puts his heart and soul into everything he does. He’s constantly working to try and make the world a better place, even at the cost of his own health. I’m proud of him, but I wish he’d stop that, to be honest.” A weak chuckle from his side, accompanied by a few stray tears. “He’s the only person I’ve met who can keep up with me in a battle of wits, he’s even managed to leave me speechless several times, but don’t tell him that, it’ll only go to his head. He’s got a bit of an attitude, but fortunately for him, he’s eloquent enough to usually talk himself out of any trouble it gets him in. He’s got an absolutely brilliant mind, even though sometimes it would be better for him if he put it to rest more often instead of always overthinking everything. Now tell me, he doesn’t sound so bad, does he?” you finish while tucking some chestnut strands out of his face. A quiet laugh, his breath clouding in front of him as he leans into your touch. “No, he does not.” You nod in satisfaction. “I thought so. Now I just wish he— I just wish you would stop ignoring all of these qualities in favor of focusing on something as… as irrelevant as a bad leg. It’s a part of you just like everything else.”

“Regrettably so…” he mutters and drops his gaze. You’re not having any of that, so you curl your fingers under his chin and force his eyes back to you; golden pools still glassy, but not as dark as when you started this conversation. There’s a spark of something lighter, of hope, somewhere there and you’ll be damned if you let it go. “The only thing regrettable about it is that it causes you pain. That’s it. It doesn’t make you less of a person or a partner or a lover.” There’s another protest ready when he opens his mouth, you can feel it, so you talk over him. “How come you get to love all of me with all my flaws and imperfections and I’m not allowed the same with you, hm? That doesn’t seem very fair, you know.”

The smug smirk on your face grows despite your best efforts as you watch him stutter and fumble, trying to come up with a counter argument. He doesn’t find one. He exhales heavily and shakes his head, looking up at you through his lashes, the small grin on his face matching yours. “There are times when I can’t stand you being right, you are aware, yes?” You simply shrug happily in response. “Maybe we could… help each other? To try and learn to be loved without… requirements?” The grin on your face melts into something softer and more genuine at his suggestion and you nod. “There’s no one I’d rather try this with than you.” Pressing a kiss to each of the beauty marks on his face, a way of sealing your deal, he hums in gratitude. Reluctantly separating from him, you lace your fingers together and start guiding him down the sreet again. “Come on, we need to get home.” He cocks his brows at you in curiosity. “Why the sudden rush?” Wincing, you rub a hand over the back of your neck sheepishly. “Cause I just remembered that I forgot to put your flowers in water and I’d rather not start this relationship by immediately killing the first thing you gifted me.” His laughter echoes along with you, as you hurriedly drag him towards your home.

He settles on your couch with a cup of tea, your own on the table in front him waiting for you, as you rummage through your cupboards in search of a vase. The flowers get a new home quick enough and as you arrange them in the glass cylinder, you realize it’s the first proper look you’ve given them. In all honesty, you hadn’t been in any state to pay attention to them when he first showed up; you’d registered their existence, yes, but you’d just assumed a generic bouquet of roses, maybe even courtesy of Jayce. You should’ve known better. And the longer you study them the bigger your eyes grow; if you’d paid even the tiniest bit more attention to the flowers when he first presented them to you, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of time and insecurity, because it’s all right here, clear as day.

Grabbing the vase in both hands, you all but dash over to your living room, almost tripping over your carpet in your hurry, to place them on the couch table in front of you both and then sit down next to him, staring at him expectantly. He glances at you out of his peripheral as he sips at his tea. “You look like you would like to ask me something.” It’s not really a question, more of a fact. “You read the book I lent you.” Snorting in amusement as he puts down his cup, he turns slightly to give you his full attention. “You’ve lent me a lot of books over the years, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific.” You gesture at the flowers animatedly. “The one on flower language.”

“Oh?” Thick brows raised in mock surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pretty mouth. “So now you finally notice. And here I spent all night trying to come up with the perfect combination to give you.” Heat crawls up the back of your neck at that, both out of embarrassment and guilt as well as affection and happiness. Mumbling an apology, you point to the colorful petals yet again. “Tell me about them.” But he only settles back into your soft couch, crossing his long legs. “What possibly for? It’s your book, you should know, shouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but it’s been a while since I’ve read it. And a lot of flowers can have multiple meanings. Besides…” you bring your legs up on the couch to carefully poke him in the ribs with your toes before scooting further down to get comfortable, settling your feet in his lap, which earns you an amused, slightly perplexed sideways glance. “I love your voice. I could listen to you talk for hours and never get bored.” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at their lover. How in the world is he supposed to say no to you when you look at him like that? But you getting your way doesn’t necessarily mean he can’t have some fun with it.

So when he casually wraps slender fingers around one of your ankles you don’t think much of it and are utterly unprepared for what happens next; which involves you getting dragged further down the couch, eliciting a shocked squeak, and before you can fully comprehend what’s happening your legs are on either side of his waist and he’s propped up above you with a hand next your head. “And where’s the fun in just reciting everything? How about we make it a game instead.” Two fingers under your chin guide your gaze back to the table and the bouquet, which leaves him with perfect access to run his nose along the slope of your neck. “And you expect me to focus like this?!” you hiss and you feel more than hear him chuckle. “Terribly sorry, am I distracting you in any way?”

Smug bastard. He wants a challenge? Fine. “Lavender. It represents devotion.” A kiss to your collarbone. “Good. What else?” There’s a small blue flower that you manage to recognize. “Iris. Uh… hope? Faith?” You’re already mostly guessing, that’s not good. “Yes, but it can also represent a deep bond of trust.” A kiss to your pulse point this time. A pretty purple one with a color gradient and spotted center catches your attention; you remember seeing it’s picture in your book, but the name had been too complicated to bother remembering it. “The purple one, that’s… friendship?” He hums in disappointed acknowledgement while he lifts his head to throw a quick glance at the flowers. “Alstroemeria. It can mean friendship, but it’s also used to express mutual support and fascination with the person you’re giving it to.” Honey eyes manage to catch your own and he actually clicks his tongue and tuts at you. “You’re slipping already. Do try a little harder, you wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you, miláčku?”

No, no you wouldn’t. You never do, but right now the connotation feels real damn different and you don’t want to find out what’ll happen if you do end up losing this little game of his. ‘Yes you do’ some part of you argues back and you kindly tell it to go shut the fuck up. It’s hard enough to focus as is, with your heart going a mile a minute and his intense gaze focused solely on you. So you bring your attention back to the task at hand; there’s only two flowers left, you can do that. “White carnations…Love…” you whisper a bit hesitantly and it earns you a press of his lips against your temple. “Sincere love” he adds, “also new beginnings and respect.” There’s only one kind of flower left now, but as far as you can recall that one is considered a symbol of love as well. “Pink camellias. Don’t they also symbolize love?”

He pulls back to look at you again, gaze soft and warm. “Eh, they do. As well as standing for loyalty and admiration. But as opposed to the carnations they represent…” Some form of higher power has decided to grant you some mercy, as he actually pauses and seems to lose some of his confidence, now replaced by humility. “It’s eternal love.” Your heart stutters and your breath hitches as he brushes some hair away from your face with the back of his hand. “I’m yours for as long as you want. If you’ll have me.”

Cursing quietly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to finally, finally kiss him, legs locking around his lanky waist to eliminate any remaining space between you; you don’t plan on letting go again anytime soon. The kiss is hot and heavy and the culmination of years of yearning and ‘what if’s’ and you’d love it to last forever, but you do regrettably have to part to breathe eventually. “So? You’re the one who wanted make this a game. Who won?” Warm breath fans across your face as he laughs softly. “Oh, I’d say we both won. Is that agreeable with you?” Grinning like a madman you nod and pull him in again to continue where you left off. The next time you manage to tear yourselves away, you nuzzle your nose against his and ask “Would you maybe want to stay the night?”

Echoing his words from earlier “If you’ll have me.” makes a bark of laughter escape you, because “You’re not gonna tell me you were planning on leaving like this,” you buck your hips into his, grinding against the obvious bulge in his pants, rewarding you with an incredibly satisfying moan from the back of his throat. “Were you?” His answer comes out breathless and strained. “Not unless you asked me to.”

“Please. There’s not a single universe where that happens. However, in this universe, I think we should be moving to the bedroom.” Out of all the things that could’ve happened next, you don’t expect him to actually pout. “What for? I think the couch is perfectly sufficient.” Utter disbelief, mixed with tendrils of heat crawling up from the pit of your stomach as you gawk at him. “My love, I applaud your enthusiasm, and while I absolutely would fuck you on my couch, I don’t plan on moving afterwards and I’m not about to sleep here when my much bigger, much more comfortable bed is right in the other room, so be so kind as to move.” The exact opposite happens as he plops himself down on top of you with all his weight; uselessly shoving at his shoulders gets you nowhere as he complains. “That would mean separating myself from you. I don’t like it.” Huffing in mild, fake annoyance, you barely hold back a laugh. “Oh for the love of— You’ll have to do that anyways if you plan on getting me out of my clothes, so would you just…?”

It takes some more bantering back and forth, but you do eventually manage to shoo him off of you. Not that it does you much good, cause as soon as you’re in an upright position on the couch again, he has your legs over his shoulders, practiced fingers on the button of your pants and he doesn’t let you up for air or from the couch until he’s brought you to ruin twice. Hunched over, hands buried in his hair, fresh air can’t seem to fill your lungs fast enough and when you have to watch him wipe the back of his hand over his mouth you actually feel like you might pass out. You try to gather every ounce of willpower and rational thought you can still muster, and fuck that’s not a lot at the moment, so you don’t tackle him to the floor right then and there. But you’d both definitely regret that one in the morning, so you haul him to his feet and finally drag him off to your bedroom.

Once he’s seated on the edge of your bed with you in his lap, the urgency that seemed to have been driving all your actions eventually ebbs away and vanishes entirely. The fear of this only being another dream, of the other person just vanishing into thin air is gone so you take your time; you have plenty, after all. Your kisses turn no less passionate, but slow and deliberate instead of frantic and bruising. Touches go from hectic and desperate to slow and sensual. Like how you spend a good portion of time, when you finally get him in the same state of undress as you, mapping out the moles and freckles across his body with your fingers, creating a star chart of your very own perfect little world. Or how he leaves marks from your things all the way up to your neck, taking mental notes on which spots make you squirm the most.

And you definitely weren’t lying earlier in the evening, when you told him you loved his voice, but the way he’s talking now? Gods have mercy on you, you’re never gonna recover. You didn’t think it was possible for someone to be obscenely filthy and terribly sweet all at once - leave it to him to prove you wrong when your bodies are eventually interwtined in the most intimate way possible.

“You’re doing so good, always so good for me.”

“Fuck, you should see yourself… Like a work of art…”

“Taking me so well, like you were made for me. Do you like the thought of that, hm, moje světlo? Of being made for me?”

Oh you damn well like it enough for it to send you over the edge yet again, a broken version of his name leaving your lips in a sob, like a violent prayer. He just holds you impossibly closer and gently hushes you.

“It’s alright, just breathe, I’ve got you. I promise, I’ve got you.”

And he keeps that promise, all through the night until exhaustion takes you both and lulls you into slumber.

All things considered, he fully expects to wake up next to you, so when his unconscious mind alerts him to your warmth missing, it irks him awake and sure enough, the bed is empty. There is however, the smell of something unfairly delicious and the sound of soft music coming from under the closed door, so you can’t be far. He manages to find his shirt and underwear in the mess of clothes on your floor and slips them on, leaving the buttons on his shirt untouched. He’d just mismatch them in his current drowsy state and you hate the cold, so your apartment is unsettlingly warm anyways. Plus, he doesn’t think you’ll mind too much, getting a view of all the marks you left, now in broad daylight.

Groggily traipsing out into the big, open space that makes up your living room and kitchen, he wonders if maybe he’s still asleep after all, because the couch table and the surrounding space is covered in book stacks that definitely weren’t there the night before. He calls out your name and your head pops up from somewhere between the piles. “Oh, hi, you’re up! Sorry, did I wake you?” He denies it, carefully making his way over to you, weaving through book towers, to sit down behind you on the couch, legs on either side of your form on the floor. He leans his cane against the cushions and wraps his arms around your shoulders in a loose hug, chin coming to rest on top of your head. There’s a mess of flowers, kitchen towels and books spread out in front of you. “What are you even doing this early in the morning?” he mumbles into your hair and you snort. “Early in the morning? Darling, it’s almost noon. I’ve already had Jayce at the door because you weren’t at the lab at ungodly hours of the morning.” You feel him shrug. “Eh, he’s the one who prohibited me from coming back to the lab before I fixed things with you. He’s only reaping what he sowed.” Snickering, you ask “He kicked you out of the lab? However did you survive?” He bumps his chin against your head in retaliation. “Stop deflecting and answer the question; what are you doing?”

“Pressing your flowers.” Short, simple, matter of fact. “Yes, I can see that.” A statement just as obvious. “So why did you ask in the first place?” He groans, burying his face in your hair. “Miláčku…” and you laugh; it’s not annoyance more… exasperated endearment.

“When I got up this morning and looked at them, I realized they were gonna wilt eventually and I didn’t like that thought, so here I am.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I can just get you new flowers, you know. I will.” Your heart swells and you lean back into him a little more, feeling him press a kiss to your head. “I know. But they won’t be these ones. These are special. If I can keep them around for a while, look at them daily, maybe they can serve as a reminder. To help with the whole ‘letting myself be loved unconditionally’ thing.”

Ah, so that’s it. It’s not about the actual act of receiving flowers as a gift, then. He contemplates your idea, watching you gently cradle a tiny lavender bud in your palms. “We’ve been working on something that could help with that, I think.” he starts. “It’s a kind of resin, won from a plant, liquid, but it dries solid and clear. It’s still in development, but you might be able to use it to preserve them further. Ms. Young is leading the project, I will ask her about it. You could probably pour it into a mold as well, turn the flowers into something else entirely. The face of a clock, maybe. Or a tray, for breakfast in bed.”

Stacking more books onto your latest set of petals, you send him a fake offended look over your shoulder. “One night and he already has such outrageous expectations? The audacity.” A quick kiss to the corner of your smiling mouth. “And why do you assume you’re not the one who gets to stay in bed?” The answer is quick and deadpan. “Because you’re still not allowed anywhere near my kitchen, Vik. Not without supervision and being searched for anything explosive beforehand.” Rising to your feet with a groan, you wince slightly at the soreness between you legs as you make your way to said kitchen to check on your breakfast. “A full body search, I’d hope.” he calls after you and you just barely resist the urge to chuck your oven mitts at him. “Behave. Or no sweetmilk for you.”

Accompanied by two mugs and a plate of fresh croissants, you return to him only a little while later and the self satisfied grin spreads across his face before he can stop it; so he really wasn’t imagining you limping a little. He opens his mouth against his better judgement and all common sense. “What’s this now? Don’t tell me you’re a little sore?”

Dear Gods, if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. Settling back on your spot on the floor, you very specifically put his cup just outside of his reach out of pure pettiness and spite. And maybe he’s actually trying to get himself killed, because “I could lend you my cane for the day, if you’d like?” You grab said cane from it’s position against the couch and blindly try to whack him with it. Chuckling, he manages to get it back before you take someone’s eye out, probably his, and mirroring your actions, puts it just out of your reach. “You’re a menace.” you complain, taking a bite of your warm, fluffy pastry. “Well, yes, but you knew that already and you decided to keep me around anyways. What does that say about you, I wonder?” You shuffle about, huffing and pouting, until you’ve managed to turn around and face him fully, intending to poke him in the ribs with an accusing finger.

Your downfall comes when you make the mistake of actually looking at him: the cutest bed head you’ve ever seen, chestnut curls sticking up in odd places, very much like when he unconsciously twirls random strands around his long fingers when he’s lost in thought. Shirt falling open just enough to clearly make out the bruises and marks on his slim chest and stomach, a beautiful contrast against his pale skin. The sunlight filtering into your apartment through the windows seems to only exist to accentuate the sharp angles of his face and match his golden eyes, just as bright and warm. Not to mention it almost gives him a halo and all of a sudden you feel like on your knees in front of him is a rather fitting place.

It’s strange, really; he’d braced himself for the full brunt of your wrath, but as soon as you’ve turned around, your eyes go wide and all the fight seems to go out of you at once. And next thing he knows, you’ve got your head nuzzled against his thigh and are staring up at him with a unique mixture of annoyance and admiration. “Oh come on, how am I supposed to argue with you when you look like this? That’s hardly fair.” He breathes a quiet, disbelieving laugh as he tangles his hand in your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “And what, pray tell, do I look like?” A smile so sweet and genuine, his heart actually aches. “Breathtakingly beautiful.” It’s like you can actually see the gears in his head grind to a screeching halt and you’re immensely proud of yourself for catching him so off guard, he ends up speechless.

“I’ll consider the dumbstruck look on your face enough of a repentance for your antics. Now eat your breakfast; they’re best while they’re still warm.” Wrapping one of the croissants in a napkin, you hand it off to him before grabbing your own off the table and shifting lightly, back now pressed against his thigh and knees tucked up under your chin, continuing your breakfast with a content sigh.

Meanwhile he’s certain he still has the same dumbfounded look on his face you found so amusing. His eyes dart between the pastry in his hand and you, before they start to wander around the rest of your apartment. He’s been here plenty of times, he’s used to your shelves, cluttered with books and mementos, your messy floor getting abused as a closet, your spotless, perfectly organized kitchen. The old heater in the corner squeaking and hissing, fighting for his life because you always run it way too high in the winter. The handwritten notes and recipes scattered across your coffee table, currently buried under books and flowers. The little mechanical cat he built you when he was a kid that he still can’t quite believe you kept staring at him from across the room, golden eyes seeming to wink at him. The used phonograph in the corner that he fixed up for you, currently playing the same gentle, slow melody he remembers from the last time you danced together in the lab in the middle of the night. He’s familiar with all of it, and yet everything feels slightly different today.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a morning quite like this…” he mumbles, more so to himself than to you, but you catch it anyways. “How so…?” He doesn’t immediately answer and for a moment you think he might not have heard you. When he speaks again, it’s slow, contemplative. “With the smell of food coming from the other room. With soft music being the thing to wake me. With the lingering warmth of someone else still in the sheets. With someone waiting to greet me, someone happy to see me, first thing in the morning. It’s… nice. I think I could get used to it. I’d like to.” Mistaking your wide eyes and silence for judgement instead of the astonishment they actually represent, he quickly apologizes. “Ah, don’t mind me, I’m just rambling. Everything I just recounted is… normal for most people, I suppose. I’m sure I sound foolish; forget I said anything.”

There’s a pretty blush crawling up from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears and you’re somewhere between wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap some sense into him. The former impulse wins, lucky for him. Crawling into his lap, you press a kiss to his nose and giggle at the way his face scrunches up in surprise and confusion.

“Happiness is the folly of fools, pity poor me, one of those fools…” you recite in a sing-song voice and he cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “That’s pretty, what’s it from?” You play with a strand of his hair as you answer. “My dad always used to hum it when he was cooking. I, uh… I never got to meet the person he seemed to be singing it to, but he was always at ease when this melody was around. He always seemed happy to have been one of the fools.” It’s your turn to feel a little abashed and sheepish now. “Soooo… you know. Even if you sounded foolish, which you didn’t by the way, I don’t think it’s— You’re not— I mean, you’re my fool, so — Wait, no, that’s not it.” Good fuck, your brain really just stops functioning around this man, doesn’t it? Not that he seems to mind, as his laugh is honest and bright as he cups your cheek and leaves a sweet kiss on your temple.

“One of the fools it is then.”

[dandylovesturtles]

Made myself emotional over the “Leo and Donnie chose to be twins” headcanon.

———

“By the way, it’s Leo and Donnie’s birthday next Thursday. You’re coming, right?”

Draxum looked up from his work organizing next week’s lunch schedule to look at Michelangelo, sitting on the counter and swinging his feet. Celebrating individual birthdays wasn’t a thing that the yokai did, but Draxum had been forced to accept that the boys could not be dissuaded from this human tradition. He’d been to two birthday parties now, for Michelangelo and Raphael respectively, eating cake and presenting them with some small trinket he purchased.

He’d known that he would have to go to more birthday parties at some point. But he wasn’t expecting two at once.

“Why on the same day? I can’t imagine the blue one wanting to share.” Actually, he couldn’t imagine Donatello wanting to share, either.

“Oh,” said Michelangelo with a laugh. “That’s ‘cause they’re twins!”

Draxum stared at him. “Twins? What kind of nonsense is that?”

Mikey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re entirely different species, for starters,” Draxum pointed out.

“I mean, we all are, but we’re still brothers.”

“Yes, by virtue of your shared DNA donor and the circumstances of your raising.” Draxum waved that off. “But “twins” refers to a situation where two children are born at once, especially as the result of a split of a fertilized egg. Which is absolutely impossible in the case of Leonardo and Donatello. Even if I were to be charitable and simply consider them “twins” for having the same hatch day, I can tell you they do not.”

“Uh, okay,” said Michelangelo, unimpressed. “But they’ve always been twins, so I don’t think it matters to them.”

“Why not? I would think it would matter to Donatello especially, since he claims to be scientifically minded.”

Michelangelo laughed. “Not everything is about science, Barry. Not even to Donnie.”

“Then his decisions about when to apply science and when not to are inconsistent and confusing.”

“Well, it’s their birthday, so they get to pick.”

“I am certain that is not how birthdays work.”

“It’s how it works for us!” Michelangelo slipped off the counter. “We’ll see you on Thursday, right? It’ll mean a lot to them if you come!”

Draxum was fairly sure Leonardo in particular would prefer he didn’t, but that didn’t matter. Now he had a mission: he had to correct this strange incongruence.

“Yes, I will be there.”

“Yay!” cheered Michelangelo. “Okay, see ya Dad!”

He squeezed Draxum around the waist on his way out. Draxum was finding he didn’t mind that as much as he used to.

———

Leonardo and Donatello’s party was just as loud and obnoxious as the other two. Blue and purple decorations covered every inch of the old subway station, strange music blared from unseen speakers, and a horrendous amount of junk food was spread out over a table. It was the same group of people present today as there ever was, the eclectic mix of humans and yokai that the boys considered family, but it felt like a crowd three times the size with the amount of noise being made.

Draxum stood off on his own for most of it, his slim birthday present already delivered to the table stacked with gifts. He’d been a little shocked when Donatello and then Leonardo came by to say hello, since he’d been prepared to be ignored by both of them. It was… nice, maybe, that they did that. Even if Leonardo just wanted to make jokes at his expense.

For most of the party, the two birthday boys seemed to be competing with each other for attention. In fact, the longer he took it all in, the whole affair seemed like a clash of ideas. The purple decorations were neat and tidy, geometric patterns and hard angles. The blue decorations were whimsical, uncoordinated, and haphazard, and there were places it seemed someone had deliberately covered up some of the purple with the blue. Leonardo wanted to play rock music and Donatello wanted to play techno. The cake was a mess because they’d both requested different themes for the decorations. There were arguments between the two of them every few minutes, and according to the human girl April this was “typical behavior.”

But why? They weren’t really twins. They didn’t have to share this day.

Hopefully Draxum’s plan would fix all this nonsense.

When it was time for gifts, Leonardo loudly declared that he was going first, sparking an argument. They squabbled for a bit before agreeing to play rock-paper-scissors, which was apparently what they did every year.

Leonardo won the game and celebrated obnoxiously while Donatello scowled at him. Then he gestured at the gift table - which Draxum, in his efforts to stay out of the main throng, was closest to.

“Hey, Barry! Grab me a gift! Make it a good one.”

Draxum sighed but reached over to take one of the blue packages, checking the tag to make sure it was for Leonardo. “This one is… to Leo from Donnie,” he read.

“Oh no, not that one. Our presents to each other are always last.”

“Because they always get sappy about it,” said April with a laugh.

“Do not!” yelled Leonardo at the same time Donatello hissed, “You take that back!”

“Uh, yeah you do, and you know I’m right.”

Draxum ignored the petty argument to look back at the gift table. If they weren’t going to be satisfied with his choice, he might as well give them his own gift.

He lifted it, in its sensible brown packaging, off the table and handed it over.

“Why not start with this? It’s to both of you from me.”

“Both of us at once?” asked Leonardo. “Oh man, you’re throwing off our whole system, Barry.”

“Yes, but he’s giving it to you,” Donatello pointed out, “which means my turn is still next.”

“Uh, no, if it’s for both of us then it counts for both of us, which means it comes back around to me!”

“Ooooh no, you do not get to loophole your way into opening two presents in a row-“

“Ahem!” Draxum loudly cleared his throat, getting their attention. “Would you please just open it?”

“Yikes,” said Leonardo. “Touchy.”

“Some people just don’t understand the sanctity of opening birthday gifts,” said Donatello with a sniff. But he leaned in to watch as Leonardo tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box.

They were both silent for a moment, staring at it. Then Leonardo said, “Uh, no offense, Barry, but what is this?”

“It’s a… scientific study on how twins are formed during the gestational period,” said Donatello, pulling the paper clipped thesis from the box. “Oh, there are more in here… Also about twins.”

“Uh…” Leonardo blinked at it, clearly bewildered. Well, he was always a bit slow. “Thanks…? I think?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the scientific literature,” said Donatello, “but this isn’t really my area of study and Leo does better with training manuals and textbooks than research papers.” He looked up at Draxum. “Is there something about this we aren’t getting?”

“Yes there is,” said Draxum, sweeping his hand around at the entire party. “I am here to correct your mistaken assumption that you are twins.”

The room fell silent. Donatello set the paper back in the box, staring at him. Leonardo’s brow creased in anger.

“We are twins, though,” he said, setting the box aside like it was burning him.

“No, you are not. There is simply no way that the two of you could be twins. It is biologically impossible.”

“You think that I’m so stupid I don’t know that?” Donatello demanded, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. “Are you doubting my intelligence?”

“Yes, if you honestly think you are twins with him, then I am.”

“Uhhh, Draxum,” said Michelangelo quickly, stepping between him and the now furious Donatello, “this was a… funny joke, but you can stop now-“

“This is not a joke. I am simply explaining the facts.”

“Yeah, well,” now Leonardo was on his feet, too, “the facts are that me and Donnie are twins. Always have been, always will be.”

“You are not,” Draxum insisted. “And given what I have seen here today, I’d think you’d both be relieved, since you clearly don’t enjoy being twins!”

Both boys looked like they’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, like everyone was collectively holding their breath.

Donatello broke first, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his hands balled into fists and his shoulders hunched up as high as they could go. “Dee!” called Leonardo, and then he was scurrying off after him. There was the sound of a heavy door slamming, then silence.

It didn’t last long.

“Draxum!” roared the rat, actually getting up from his chair to get in Draxum’s face. “You come in here and upset my boys on their own birthday!?”

“Seriously not cool, Drax,” said the human April. Cassandra shook her head in shared disappointment behind her.

Draxum pushed Lou Jitsu back, scowling at his accusers. “I was only explaining reality! This is really the rat’s fault for letting their delusion go on so long.”

“Delusion!?”

“Barry!”

“Rat!?”

“Ooookay,” said Raphael suddenly, stepping his way into the middle of the fray and starting to herd Draxum back toward the exit. “That’s enough of that for now.”

“I am simply trying to explain-“

“Trust me, hoss, you wanna step away from this one,” said Raphael, and his tone was angry but surprisingly measured. “Come on.”

They retreated to the sewer tunnels outside the subway station. The smell was much worse out here, and Draxum wrinkled his nose.

“Alright.” Raphael heaved a sigh, folding his arms. “So here’s the deal. Mikey likes you, and I guess I kinda do too, so I’m gonna try to help you before you completely torpedo your chances with the rest of the guys. Which, you kinda did already, but maybe we can turn it around.”

“I still don’t understand why they’re so upset,” said Draxum. “Surely it was obvious they aren’t twins.”

“Uh, yeah, they know they aren’t twins by bio-whatever,” agreed Raphael. “They ain’t stupid.”

“Hmm.” Draxum turned up his nose. “Donatello isn’t stupid, maybe.”

“Leo ain’t stupid, either, he just pretends like it.” Raphael pinched his brow. “Listen, that isn’t the point - the point is they already know they didn’t come from the same egg or hatch the same day or whatever. They’re just twins anyway.”

“But how? That doesn’t make sense!”

Raphael sighed again. “Alright, look. Dad didn’t know when we hatched, right? But we all wanted birthday parties like we saw on TV, so he let us pick.”

“Yes. And for some reason Leonardo and Donatello chose the same day.” Draxum could figure that much out on his own.

Raphael nodded. “I was the biggest and oldest, and Mikey was the littlest and youngest, and Leo and Donnie were just kinda sandwiched in the middle. I think at first they just wanted a thing. Somethin’ that set them apart from me and Mikey, ya know?”

“Not really,” said Draxum. Raphael glared at him, and he sighed. “But go on.”

“So they picked the same birthday and called themselves twins. I think Pops just so glad they were actually getting along that he agreed to it. And I think he thought once we got to the day, and they realized they were really gonna have to share it, they’d both demand their own day instead. I know I thought that was gonna happen.” He smiled at the memory. “But the day came, and… they fussed the whole time just like they do now. Arguing about what kind of cake they wanted and who got to open their present first. But they didn’t ask to split. They kept it the same day, and they kept calling each other twins and it just stuck, until we didn’t question it anymore.”

“…They are both stubborn,” Draxum pointed out, and Raphael laughed once.

“Yeah, guess they are. But that’s not what this is.” Raphael shrugged. “They chose each other back then. Maybe at first it was just to have a thing, but then it became real. And every single year they keep choosing each other. That’s why they’re twins.”

Choosing each other as twins… Draxum furrowed his brow. “It’s not normally a choice,” he pointed out finally.

“Yeah, well, our family doesn’t get a lot of choices, so just let ‘em have this one, okay?”

“…Fine,” Draxum finally relented. “As long as it’s noted that this is purely a social designation, and not a biological one.”

“Uh, sure, whatever.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Glad we got that cleared up, though. Think you can come back to the party and behave?”

Draxum wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, but nodded. “Yes. I will not bring it up again.”

“Good!” Raphael’s smile abruptly transitioned into something much more dangerous. “Because if you make my little brothers upset on their birthday again, I’ll remind you what it was like when we were enemies.”

Then the smile was back. “Now let’s go in!”

He walked back to the subway station, leaving Draxum to follow on his own. Draxum couldn’t help but sigh wistfully.

Raphael would have made a great general for his army.

———

The boys had already returned by the time Draxum got back. They were opening more gifts, and he noted they were wearing hoodies now - though they had apparently decided to swap their signature colors. They were smiling and chattering, and any hint of their earlier upset was gone.

Until Draxum stepped into their line of sight, and both of them went rigid, wary of him.

Apparently just talking to the red one was not enough. Draxum would have to do more. What a pain.

But he didn’t want the boys to hate him. So he sighed and launched into it.

“I… am sorry. I shouldn’t have said you aren’t twins.”

The boys looked surprised at that; slowly, their posture loosened back up.

“And… to make up for my present, I will… take the two of you wherever you want to go in the Hidden City.” The next words were painful, and he ground them out. “My treat.”

Leonardo and Donatello shifted their gaze from him to each other. They were silent, but it didn’t seem like they needed to talk to have a conversation.

Then they finally looked back at Draxum, slow grins growing over both their faces.

Eerily matching, very evil grins.

“Oh,” said Leonardo, happily menacing. “I think we can think of something.”

“I concur,” said Donatello in the exact same tone.

Oh, thought Draxum. Maybe they really are twins.

[felassan]

All companions are pansexual!!!

Game is rated M, will contain nudity. [source]

Full article:

"In a new interview with The Veilguard game director Corinne Busche, we've confirmed that yes, you will be able to romance any companion you want, regardless of your character's gender or race. It's a bit of a surprise for fans, considering that in previous Dragon Age games, the romanceable characters had different sexual orientations. Some were pansexual, sure, but others were heterosexual, others were only attracted to the same sex, and some could only be romanced if you were a certain race (Dragon Age: Inquisition's Solas, for example, could only be romanced by female elves). But Busche pushes back on the idea that The Veilguard's companions are "playersexual," a term used to describe games where NPCs are specifically only attracted to the player character. She says she's seen playersexual "done in a number of games," and "it can be really off-putting where these characters are adapting to who you, the player, are." Rather, Busche insists that they're all specifically pansexual, and that might come through in what you learn about their backstories. "Their past experiences or partners, they'll reference them and indeed who they'll become romantic with," Busche tells IGN. "For instance, we saw Harding. I might be playing a straight male character flirting with her, but I choose not to pursue a romance. She might get together with Taash. So my perception, my identity has no bearing on their identities and that comes through really strongly." When asked if that means it won't take long for romance to become an option in The Veilguard, Busche confirms that you'll be able to start flirting with everyone pretty early, as you recruit all seven companions throughout the first act. But, she clarifies, "it's not until the later parts of the game where you really commit to romance and it gets pretty spicy.""

---

"Speaking of spicy... Of course, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a BioWare game, and games from the studio — specifically those in the Mass Effect and Dragon Age series — are known to have some fairly explicit sex scenes. Busche confirms that The Veilguard will be no different, particularly towards the end of the game: "Of course, we are an M-rated game," she says. "We do have nudity." There's also some obvious parallels to be made between The Veilguard and last year's critical darling Baldur's Gate 3. The latter became known not only for its deep romances (like The Veilguard, Baldur's Gate 3 player characters can romance any companion regardless of gender or race), but also for its sex scenes, including one involving a Wild-Shaping Druid that went pretty viral. Busche isn't afraid to admit that she has played Baldur's Gate 3, and loved it, as she's an "an RPG fan through and through": "The more character-driven party-based RPGs with deep emotional connection, the better." "What I love about the two games is I think they live side by side in a really interesting way," she continues. "They're very different games, but those emotional connections and how the narratives hook you, I think there's space for both." Specifically in regards to the sex scenes and how The Veilguard will handle theirs differently, Busche says some of Baldur's Gate 3's scenes were "shocking and comical in some ways, and I would say I loved that." "Our companions, we want them to be relatable and fully realized. So they can get spicy, but in a way that I think people will actually relate to," she says. Basically: no bear sex. Busche goes on to say that how sexually explicit the scenes are, too, will vary between characters. "Some of them are more spicy than others," she reveals. "Just like real life, our companions have such diverse personalities. Some of them are more physical, more aggressive, and some of them are more... we have a gentleman necromancer, for instance, that is more intimate and sensual." Our interview with Busche comes as BioWare continues to roll out information about the highly anticipated Dragon Age sequel, with a cinematic trailer having dropped at the Xbox Showcase over the weekend. Dragon Age: The Veilguard will debut sometime this fall."

[source]

[anonymityisfunwriter]

I Can See You

"And I could see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission..."

Summary: You and Bucky don't see eye to eye, everyone knows that. They don't know that you and Bucky once knew each other under very different names. And they most certainly don't know that when he looks at you, he can still every stolen moment, his jacket on the floor, notes saying meet him at midnight, you up against the wall with him. No, they don't see that at all. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist | Anon's 1K Celebration

"I already told you, I'm only doing this because I owe you."

Six months - that was your promise.

Six months of your time and best efforts.

"And as a part of this favor, you promised to keep an open mind."

And an open mind, you begrudgingly recall. You promised you would keep an open mind about making this a more permanent placement.

Nick Fury was sure that you'd find a home here in the Avengers Compound.

You were fairly certain that you wouldn't - but you weren't going to tell him that.

You hated owing people. Nick Fury even more so. You could bide your time for six months to pay your debt to him. He didn't need to know you had no intention of becoming an Avenger. "Whatever you have to tell yourself, Nick."

"That doesn't sound like an open mind," he admonishes.

You smirk, enjoying the frantic hustle and bustle of the Avengers Compound with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, "You know that I don't do well in teams. I don't play fair, Nick."

"Never heard that one before."

"But I bet you believe me, don't you?" you retort.

"Open mind."

You roll your eyes, waving him off, "Yeah, yeah, when exactly do I get to meet these self righteous assholes?"

"How does now sound?"

"Like my worst nightmare," you mutter under your breath.

If he heard you, he doesn't let it show. Nick flings the door to the conference room open, revealing two men standing beside each other poring over a case file.

It's not their impressive statures that catch your attention. In fact, the blonde one hardly catches your eye at all.

And if you weren't highly trained and disciplined, a gasp would've lodged itself in your throat at the sight of the brunette you never thought you'd see again.

"Ah, Nick told us we might be meeting you today." The sandy haired super soldier extends his hand out to you. It doesn't escape your attention that the brunette snaps the file shut the moment he sees you. "I'm Steve, Steve Rogers."

You return the gesture, still barely paying attention to the man. Your eyes flicker to Bucky. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was entirely unfazed by your sudden reappearance.

You're thankful you do know better. You know so much better. 

Bucky's eyes meet yours for a split second, they narrow slightly. It tells you everything that you need to know. You've caught him off guard.

Steve takes Bucky's silence as his cue to interject. He clears his throat, gesturing to his friend, "And this is Bucky Barnes. He's a, well, he's a man of few words."

Apparently, that hadn't changed since you knew him under an entirely different name.

"It's nice to meet you," you say to Steve. Your eyes flicker back to Bucky. His jaw ticks as a wide grin pulls at the corners of your mouth. He's worried that you'll give away his dirty little secret. Your eyes flash over to him, a mischievous gleam that Bucky doesn't miss, "The both of you."

Steve smiles at the change in your demeanor, "Nick filled me in about your little deal. Exactly how long is this trial run going to run?"

"Six months," you confidently reply, unabashedly staring at Bucky. "I'll be out of your hair in six months."

"But we're keeping an open mind, aren't we?" Nick urges you again.

You playfully roll your eyes, a beaming grin on your face, "Of course, Nick. You know, I don't know why, but suddenly, I get the sense that these next six months are going to be a hell of a lot of fun."

"That's an interesting take," Steve lilts.

"She's your problem now," Nick quips.

"Me? A problem?" you gasp in mock offense. You turn to Bucky, who's still yet to say a word. "Do I look like a problem, Bucky?"

Bucky's eyes narrow again. The muscle in his jaw ticks yet again. You swear you can almost hear the sound of his teeth grinding. It's almost enough to make you laugh.

The silence is palpable as Bucky glares at you. Steve nervously laughs, taking a step closer to you. He gestures to your duffle bag, "How about I show you were you can put your stuff down? We'll give you a chance to settle in and you'll meet the rest of the team first thing in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan, Captain."

"Just Steve is fine."

"See?" You call over your shoulder to Nick. "I'm already having so much fun."

You're not surprised that he came to find you minutes later. If you're right, he waited just long enough to make sure he wasn't being obvious. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to feel his lurking gaze far before you see him. "I can see you."

"Why did you lie?" Bucky furiously demands, standing in the doorway of your new bedroom.

You grin to yourself, still turned away from Bucky. "Nice to see you again, Soldat."

"Bucky," he firmly states, his hands curling into tight fists. "My name is Bucky."

"If I recall correctly, you liked when I called you Soldat." You turn on your heel, taking several steps toward Bucky. He knows he should stop you. He knows he should stay as far away from you as possible, as far away from your bedroom as possible. And yet, there's a side of him that wants nothing more than to feel you close to him all over again. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't push you away. Not even when you're close enough to touch him. "Or did it sound better when I whispered it in your ear?" You lean in, your voice dropping to a soft whisper in his ear, "My Soldat."

He does his very best to suppress the shudder that rolls through his entire body. It takes him a beat longer than it should to regain his senses and take a step away from you. He demands again, "Why did you lie?"

You chuckle, finally stepping away and allowing him his space, "Would you prefer I tell your team mates about your history of getting a little too close to your enemies?"

"What makes you think that they don't know?" Bucky challenges. 

You languidly shrug, "We'll call it a hunch."

"I'm not that person anymore." Bucky takes an angry step forward, desperate to convince you that he's a changed man. "I don't keep secrets anymore."

"So tell them," you offer. "What do I care?"

"You cared enough to lie," Bucky shoots back.

"If you want to let your team know that we used to fu-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm not that person anymore," he repeats himself. This time, he's not sure who he's trying to convince.

"Then we shouldn't have any problems, should we?" you rhetorically ask.

His eyes narrow, his gaze sharp and ready to kill, "What are you up to?"

"Me?" You gesture to yourself, resting your hand on your chest. "I'm not up to anything. Come on, Soldat, don't you trust me?"

"No, I don't because I know you, and you're always up to something," he bitterly accuses. "You've always got an angle."

"I assume you're talking about that day."

"You sold me out."

"You'll never see, will you?" You roll your eyes at him, waving him off, "I'm simply doing the favor that was asked of me."

"Six months?"

"Six months. And no one will ever have to know. Unless, of course, you can't help yourself."

He scoffs, "That won't be a problem."

"History has a tendency to repeat itself, Bucky," you state, putting an extra emphasis on his name.

"Not this time. Here's how this is going to go." He reaches out, snatching your wrist. His grip is tight enough to force you to pay attention, but not enough to actually hurt. "I'll stay away from you, and you're going to stay away from me. Got it? Let's just - let's keep this professional."

A grin spreads across your face. Your eyes flicker down to the burning grip on your wrist. You like that, even now, even after all these years, you still have an effect on the man you once called yours. "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm as reformed as you are."

That's exactly what worried him.

The months passed as quietly as Bucky could ever bring himself to hope.

Still, you never quite let it rest, never let him rest.

You always had a way of letting him know that you could see him. You could see how he was struggling to contain himself, struggling to suppress every flashback, struggling to simply keep his eyes off of you, struggling to contain all the feelings that he denied he felt for you.

He wondered if you knew that you kept him up all hours of the night. There were so many nights he spent sleep evaded, wondering what would happen if he just knocked on your door. Would you be up waiting for him? Would you smirk that smirk? The one he'd come to love and hate all at once. The one that was haunting him. The one he saw every time he close his eyes.

It wasn't just at night. It was every night. Every day. Every waking moment that you danced somewhere on the outskirts of his awareness. Every time you brushed past him in the hallway. You had to know you were driving him to the brink of madness. 

Sometimes, you barely acknowledged him. Sometimes, you gave him that infuriating smirk. Every single time, he saw it. Every single time, he saw you.

That part of his life was, for lack of a better word, scrambled. And still, he could never forget your touch. That part was crystal clear.

And he couldn't decide whether he loved or hated the fact that it might just be you doing that to him.

It ate at him.

It was a special gift you possessed, he had to admit. You could make him see whatever you wanted him to see, the power to ensnare his senses. The good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. You had the power to do it, to make him see whatever you wanted him to. He told himself that's what it was. It wasn't remembering a long lost love, it was you messing with his head all over again. 

He'd see flashes of the time you spent together once upon a time. His jacket on the floor. Up against the wall with you. Those old, crumpled notes telling him to meet you at midnight. He remembers every second of it. 

But most of all, you. He remembers every whispered sweet nothing. He remembers the anticipation he felt every time he saw you. And he remembers your touch. Your lips on his, trailing down his jawline. Your fingers running over the planes of his chest.

Deep down, he knew it wasn't your powers. It was you. There was no forgetting a touch like that. No forgetting a person like you.

It just another way you tormented him. So few ever escaped the Winter Soldier. Even fewer lived to tell the tale.

Not you. You not only lived to tell the tale, you taunted him with it. After that very first night, where he was, you were. He was never quite sure if it was glorious happenstance or your own doing.

Your very first encounter, you caught him totally off guard - something previously thought impossible. He didn't see you. He didn't hear you coming. He didn't feel you slip past him to reach your target before he ever could. All he remembered was hearing footsteps in the dark street. He knows for a fact you could've disappeared into the night without him ever knowing. He whirled around, searching for the culprit. He saw nothing, no one. 

It should've been quick, an easy kill. Instead, it was the first time he ever failed.

To this day, he swears that he heard your whispered laugh when he realized his target was gone, vanished into the night.

You showed yourself the second time. He was more prepared that time. Not ready for it, but more prepared. The first time his vision failed him, he sprayed the room with bullets.

"Uh, uh," you condescendingly tutted, allowing him to see you standing before him. "Can't get rid of me that easily, Soldat."

He saw you standing before him for a short moment, just enough to memorize your face. And then he lost all sight. You stroked his cheek, he remembers that. It was the first time you ever touched him. It was the most tender touch he'd felt in decades.

When he regained his senses, you were gone. Along with his target. 

The third time, he caught you - or you allowed him to catch you. He wasn't quite sure.

"Who are you?" he demanded, pinning you against the wall.

"Poor, Soldat," you cooed at him. It confused him. There was no fear in your voice. For some reason, he knew that if he released your arms from his iron grip, you wouldn't punch, scratch, or claw at him. You wouldn't fight back. You'd taunt him with your touch all over again. And for a reason that was more unknown to him, he really wanted you to. "They truly tell you nothing."

His sight was gone, but this time, he refused to let go. He gripped your wrists hard enough to leave bruises, pinning them over your head, "Let me see you."

"Say please." There it was that taunt that he knew would come. There was a lilt to your voice he'd never forget. In that moment he knew, he was powerless against you and your whims.

"Let me see you. Now."  He grips you even tighter. For a long moment, he still saw nothing. All he could feel was your body pinned against the wall, pinned against him. He softly exhales, his breath dusting over your lips, "Please."

He thought he memorized your face the first time you allowed him to see you, but he was wrong. There was so much he missed. He missed the slope of your nose. How soft and plush your lips looked. The mischievousness shining in your brilliant eyes.

He studied your face again. Over and over. Forcing himself to commit every detail to memory. Your smirk melted into the warmest smile he'd ever seen you wear.

You lean into him, as close as his grip will allow you to. So close that your lips linger a breath away from his. For a moment, he thinks you're going to kiss him. Instead, you speak softly, your breath skating across his lips, "I like you, Soldat. We're going to have fun."

His heart still stuttered. At the time, he didn't know what you meant.

He learned quickly after that.

It was the definition of a whirlwind romance - or as close to a romance as two assassins could possibly get. Long nights spent beside you. Jet setting across the globe for missions, just waiting with bated breath in the hopes that you'd be there. You never talked about what it meant, what you felt, all you had were those nights. Somewhere in those nights, he stopped being Soldat, and he started being your Soldat. 

So was it you? Were you the reason he could still see it?

Or was it him? Was it the fact that he could never really let those nights go?

He was a different person than the one you knew all those years ago. He was on the straight and narrow. He stayed out of trouble. You were the epitome of trouble. You sold him out the moment it was convenient for you. So why can't he let you go?

You caught him off guard when you showed up here. He was determined to make sure that didn't happen again. He just needed to be on his best behavior.

He knows you've been watching him - but he can see you, too.

You make a point to brush past him in the hallway on the way to the conference room. He thinks you can't see it, but you've been watching him closely.

You can see the waver of his Adam's apple, the way his eyes dart in your direction when you pass him, the way his jaw ticks shut as if he were doing his very best to contain himself.

Your days here on the Compound were dwindling down to your last few weeks. He still couldn't figure out why he couldn't let you go.

Even as he sits across the conference room table, you overwhelm each and every one of his senses. You pretend like you don't see him taking the seat directly across from you. Instead, you lean closer into Sam.

Sam grins at you. "So you can show me anything?"

"Anything," you promise, driving Bucky mad by using that torturous smirk on Sam. 

Bucky's not sure what Sam sees. It could be anything. A powder white beach on some far off coast. A meadow filled with fragrant, vibrant flowers dancing in the daylight. You could make him feel like he was plummeting to his death. You could make him feel loved for the first time in his life. You could let him know a betrayal like no other. 

He shakes away the runaway train of thought, focusing on the far off look in Sam's eye and the look of wonderment painting his face, "Whoa..."

"Bucky," Sam calls, his voice filled with laughter as you use your gift like a party trick. "Come try this! She's like a human VR."

"As tempting as that is," Bucky sarcastically remarks, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'd like to get this meeting over with."

"Alright, team," Tony calls out, beginning their latest team meeting. "Fury added another assignment to our docket. Black tie, intercepting a black market intel deal. You get in, you get out. Should be easy enough."

"Whatever you say," Bucky mutters under his breath.

"Barnes," Tony smirks. "I'm so glad you agree. You're up."

"What? Why?" Bucky demands. 

Tony nonchalantly shrugs, "Because I said so."

"Asshole," Bucky grumbles.

Tony's eyes flicker over to you next. In that moment, Bucky freezes. There's no way Tony know about the two of you, but it certainly feels like Tony's doing this just to punish him. "And you can take the human VR with you."

"No," Bucky sharply refutes, gripping the table so tightly he's sure Tony will have to get a new one. "I go, I go alone."

"Sorry, Barnes, we'll need more than brawn to get us into that gala."

Six months. Almost six months passed and he'd done everything in his power to avoid this. To avoid being alone with you. To avoid working in close proximity to you and the aura of temptation and betrayal that shrouded you.

The number of favors he now owed to his teammates was proof of it. He had no interest in testing the limit of his will power. "Then, I'll take Wanda."

Tony crosses his arms, shaking his head and looking far too pleased at Bucky's discomfort, "Nope, she's needed on a different assignment."

You smirk, tongue running over your teeth like a predator watching their prey fall into their trap. "Careful, Bucky, I'm starting to get the sense that you don't want to work with me."

Bucky's eyes dart to you, grimacing at you, "Whatever."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun."

"Bucky," Steve starts, tightly gripping his shoulder as the room filters out. "What's the problem?"

Bucky glowers at you as you saunter out of the conference room. Of course, you're far too pleased with this outcome. You make a point to grin at him as rage rolls off of him. "I don't trust her."

"Why? She's never given us any reason not to."

"Because -" Bucky starts, faltering after only a word. He can't bring himself to say why. That was between you and him. A memory he buried long ago. "Forget about it."

But he remembers. All of it. He remembers the moment you betrayed him and broke his heart all too well. 

"My Soldat..."

He sighs in relief, he finally stops pacing the floor of your safe house. You asked to meet days ago and you had yet to show up. Weeks had passed without hearing from you. You'd never gone this long without making yourself known. Finally, here you were, back in his arms where you would always belong,"It's been too long. I was beginning to worry."

"Don't ever worry about me, my Soldat." Your words are sharper than he's ever heard from you, it shocks him. You caress his cheek, fingertips trailing down to his jawline, your words soften to a gentle whisper, "Don't ever worry about me."

He bends down and kisses the palm of your hand, "I will always worry. For you, I will worry for as long as I live."

You smile, resting your hand over his beating heart. That's why you were doing this. You made deals with people you hated, resigned yourself to a life always looking over your shoulder, and sealed your fate, all to keep his heart beating, all to give him the long, happy life he deserved.

"And for that, you'll always be my Soldat." You kiss him with everything you have left. Your last kiss. A goodbye kiss. Because if you loved something, you set it free. If they came back to you, they would always be yours. And now, you were setting him free. And he would never forgive you for this. He would never be yours again. "And that's why it had to end this way."

"What are you talking about?"

You back away from the window of your safe house, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

And that's when the SHIELD agents swarmed.

It was a moment hard to forget. Yet it was equally hard to remember, to remember why he didn't trust you, to remember why he could never allow himself to let his guard down, not when you were so good at taunting him. He was sure you were taunting. He knew it from the very moment you stepped into the armory in a red dress that nearly stopped his heart.

You make it a point to saunter past him, tossing a laugh over your shoulder, "Don't worry, Soldat. I'll be on my best behavior."

"I won't hold my breath." Flashes of old memories race through his head. This time, he's sure it's you. His eyes snap up to you with a glower, "You said you were going to be behave."

"I said I was going to be on my best behavior," you correct, making a show of picking out your knives for the night. "This is pretty much as good as it gets."

"That's what I was worried about," Bucky sighs to himself.

"Lighten up, Soldier. It's my last night, I'd like to have just a little fun."

"Last night?"

"That was the deal."

Bucky's eyes dart away from you as you lift your leg up. The fabric of your dress slides up as you strap a small dagger to your holster. He knows you're doing it on purpose to rile him up. That's not what worries him. What worries him is if you're not doing it intentionally. If you're not trying to get his attention and he's just so viscerally aware of you that he can't stop thinking about you. That's what worries him. He doesn't trust himself enough to be this drawn to you. He clears his throat of the knot forming, "So you're not staying?"

"Why? You gonna miss me?" you tease. He remains silent, his eyes unflinchingly forward. "Let's not kid ourselves, Bucky. You didn't want me to stay. Too risky - I might ruin your squeaky clean reputation."

He's absolutely certain that you're the only person that's ever referred to his reputation as squeaky clean. "You're really leaving?"

"It's okay, Soldat."

"I told you not to call me that," Bucky snaps. He's aware that his self control is slipping minute by minute. Every second in your presence is a test of his restraint.

"Do you still remember? Can you still see it in your mind? Or do you need me to show you?"

"Stop." He barks the second a flash of the memory starts playing in his head. He can see himself tossing his jacket on the floor in a frenzy. "That's enough."

You smirk that damned smirk at him again. His fist clenches tightly, the knuckles of his flesh hand white with strain. "You're thinking about us right now, aren't you?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to push the image out of his head, he frantically shakes his head, "Stop it."

"Do you want to know what I'm thinking about?"

"Not particularly," he rasps.

"Liar."

He clenches his jaw so tightly that he's worried he might break a tooth or two as he desperately tries to hold onto his last ounce of self control. He's fighting a losing battle. "I'm not a liar."

"So what would you do? If I touched you right now?" You rest your hand against his chest. "If I got just a little bit closer?"

He hopes you can't hear his heart stutter. "I - I wouldn't do anything."

"What if you knew they would never find out? If we were so quiet and we didn't make a sound?"

"It wouldn't change a thing."

"What if I told you I remember it all? Every night. Every mission. Every time you kissed me."

"I-" His voice falters. Now was his chance. This was it, whether he wanted you to stay or go. Would you stay if he admitted that he never stopped thinking about those stolen moments? Or would you betray him all over again and laugh in his face and smirk that damned smirk with pride at bringing him to his knees? He can't put his finger on it, but in this moment, he doesn't care. He'll take the chance. He swallows the knot in his throat, "I would tell you I remember all of it."

Your hand twitches against his chest. "What?"

"I remember every second. I'll never forget any of it. I could just never figure out: Was any of it real?"

"Can't you see, my Soldat?" Your hand skates past his collarbone, up his throat, coming to rest on his cheek. Your hand caresses him with a tenderness he thought he would never feel again. "It was always real. Every moment of it."

"Then why did you do it?" he softly exhales.

"I had my reasons."

He lunges forward, and in the blink of an eye, he's gripping your wrist and pinning it to the wall behind you, "Tell me."

You grin wildly. You've been here with him before. "Arrogant as ever, Soldat."

"If it was real, why did you do it?" he demands, flexing his grip.

You lick your lips, momentarily debating whether or not to give him the truth. It ate at you for years. From afar, you could live with the knowledge that he might always hate you for what you did. Watching the conflict warring in his eyes was an entirely different battle. You figure, of all the things you could give him, the truth would at least give him some sense of peace. "It wasn't safe."

He loosens his grip slightly, "I would've protected you."

"It wasn't safe for you."

His eyes flash open. "What?"

"You were my mission, Bucky," you finally confess. "There was never anything else - anyone else. It was you. Only you."

He lets go, the shock sending him staggering. Your hand skates down the wall, but he doesn't move back to allow you the space to move. "You were sent to kill me."

You tilt your head at him, "I clearly failed."

"That doesn't explain why you betrayed me."

"Someone found out about us."

He shakes his head, his eyes storming with anger, "No, we were careful."

"Someone knew. I got a nice gunshot in the back to prove it. They knew I wasn't going to complete my mission. They knew I was never going to kill you. I wasn't going to lead them right to you. I didn't know who was watching. I wasn't - I wasn't going to gamble your life until I was sure that they were all gone."

The realization dawns on Bucky almost immediately. Sure, you were one hell of an assassin. Sure, your powers were beyond belief and could take down even the most heinous villains. But not even you could singlehandedly take down the crime syndicate you used to work for. An organization almost as massive and pervasive as HYDRA was. That's why you put yourself in Nick Fury's debt. You did it for him. "That's why you owed Nick Fury. That's why you sold me out." 

"As twisted as it sounds, you were safer in SHIELD's custody. The moment I knew you were safe and in custody, I killed each and every one of them."

His voice is hoarse as he speaks, "You should've told me."

"I wasn't going to risk your life just so you wouldn't think badly of me."

"Then why did you come here?" he demands. "If you had no intention of telling me the truth, if you were going to pretend, why ask to come here?"

"I didn't ask to come here. I didn't know you were here. I stopped looking for you some time ago."

"Why?"

"I dug deep to finish what they started. And once I tore them down brick by brick, I needed to rebuild. I had nothing left. It took me a while to resurface."

"Oh." There's a tightness in Bucky's chest at your confession. He never looked for you. He though you betrayed him. Up until now, there was no reason to believe anything else. You rebuilt your life on your own. You had no one, nothing left. You were left all alone. He left you all alone. 

There's a strange look in Bucky's eye when you finally look up at him. There's a lightness you haven't scene in quite some time. "What?"

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitches up. You may not have known, but Nick Fury sure did. "Fury knew I was here. He knew where he was sending you. He knew about... us?"

"I assume he figured it out when I came to him, begging him to help me keep you safe."

A shaky exhale dances across your lips. Bucky closes the gap between the two of you, pressing you up against the wall with him. "It was real."

For the first time in a long time, you touch him. You rest your shaky hand against cheek, your fingers ghosting over his lips, "Finally, you see, it was real... my Soldat."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 11

            Brian walked into the building of the marketing firm. Although Brian was never the center of attention, he was fairly sociable at work. He was pretty well liked and respected by his colleagues. His hard work and leadership had elevated him to senior project planner. The promotion had not only greatly enhanced his salary, but it came with a private office and a personal secretary.

            Brian felt so nervous as he walked through the front doors. He was certain that everyone would notice his attire. I just need to make it to my office and everything will be just fine. He prayed that no one would stop him for Monday morning chit chat. A few people nodded good morning, but he made it to office without delay. He closed the door behind and let out a sigh of relief. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to hide all day, but he would try to as much as he could.

            He turned on his computer and attempted to focus his attention on his work. He reached into his bag to grab his glasses, but as his hand searched the bag he felt something he didn’t expect. Inside were two additional pull-ups and his pacifier. Taped to one of the pullups was a note from Rebecca:

            Mommy wanted to make sure you were prepared. Remember its ok if you have an accident. Mommy loves you.

Brian quickly zipped up the bag and tried to refocus, but just the mere sight of the pull-up clouded his thinking. He stared blankly at his screen when a knock at the door, “Mr. Sullivan, may I come in?” It was his secretary, Samantha Carson. She was a very shapely woman with long blonde hair in her mid-twenties. She was the type that caused heads to turn as she passed by. She could have men under her spell without uttering a single word. Although it was impossible to not be captivated by her beauty, Brian always displayed the greatest kindness and respect. She noticed that he was different from so many other men. Most men were just dogs wanting to get her into bed. But Brian treated her as a professional and never as an inferior. She wasn’t just a secretary. He valued her opinion and input on projects. She admired how fiercely devoted he was to his wife and wished that she could find a partner like him.

            “Yes, Ms. Carson, please come in,” Brian said. Samantha walked in. As he looked up from his computer, his eyes focused on her bosom. For a moment, all he wanted was to be nursed. He quickly caught himself and turned his attention to her face, hoping she didn’t notice his stare. “How was you weekend?” he asked.

            “Oh it was fine, never long enough,” revealing her radiant smile.

            Brian chuckled, “I know the feeling.”

            “Your 12pm meeting was rescheduled for Friday. Oh and Mr. Gates scheduled a meeting at 2 this afternoon. Something about a new project for Babies R Us.”

            Brian felt like his cheeks started burning when he heard the word babies. Oh my god. Do they know? He has to know. Why else would he put me on this project? He glanced back up at her. She can tell I am wearing a pull-up can’t she? His palms felt sweaty and he curtly responded, “Ok that’s fine.” A small spurt of pee escaped into his pull-up.

            “Mr. Sullivan, are you ok?,” she was genuinely concerned. The look of worry on his face made her want to comfort him. Brian noticed that her face did not convey even the slightest sense of judgement.

            “I am just a little tired and out of sorts this morning. I will be ok,” Brian responded.

            “Ok, but if there is anything I can get you. Anything at all, just let me know.”

Brian thanked her as she exited his office. He tried to calm himself down and slow his breathing. He glanced at his bag sitting next to his desk. Maybe just for a minute. He reached into and retrieved his pacifier. He placed it between his lips and he immediately felt calmer. After a few minutes, he felt he had regained his composure. As he went to return the pacifier to his big, a knock came at his door again, drawing his attention to the door. He let the pacifier slip from his hand, thinking it landed in his bag. “Come in.”

[theamberfist]

Sink or Swim | Stolas x Reader

Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader

Description: When Stolas signed his baby daughter, Octavia up for swim lessons, he never expected to like her new instructor so much

(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is baby Octavia's swim teacher)

Words: 1,640

❀ Fun fact: I've taught parent-infant swim lessons IRL so all the exercises shown in this are real ones we use with infants ❀

Stolas frowned as he pushed open the door to the building in front of him; unable to help the slight nervous feeling that bloomed in his chest. He supposed there should have been no cause for concern, considering he was a prince of hell and easily one of the strongest beings in this ring, but it wasn't as if he'd ever done something like this before. 

He readjusted his arms, where Octavia rested on his hip sleepily. On a normal day, she would have been napping at home now, but not for much longer. He'd specifically chosen this time because he knew that, once she woke up, she would be as active as ever. Stolas reminded himself that this was for her sake, not his; he could hold his head up high for her, just as he always did.

When he entered, the imp at the front desk looked up from his work and his eyes widened slightly. "Prince Stolas..." He managed before finally clearing his throat and regaining his composure, "Right, we were expecting you." Though, something told the owl prince they hadn't actually thought he'd make good on his plans and come in. 

"The toddler pool has already been reserved, and your instructor is waiting for you there," the imp went on to explain as he checked their names off on a clipboard, "I'll let them know you've arrived." 

"Thank you." Stolas nodded awkwardly before turning and heading through the locker rooms to the pools. Though he could have simply signed Via up for regular lessons, he'd decided a private one would be better for the sake of them both. He wasn't aware that meant they'd reserve an entire pool for them, however small, but at least this way, he would have fewer paparazzi to deal with. 

Finally, he reached the pool deck, seeing that the whole facility only had a few people in it right now. There was a large lap swimming pool in front of him, as well as a splash pad to his right and the toddler pool to his left. When he looked over, there was already someone sitting on the side with their feet in the water as they waited. They wore a red swimsuit with the word 'lifeguard' printed in white, leading him to believe this was the instructor the imp at the front desk had mentioned. 

He made his way over to the toddler pool as Octavia began stirring in his arms now. It was a good thing he'd already gotten her into her swimsuit, or he would have had a hard time getting her to sit still long enough for it now. 

Upon hearing them come over, you looked up and smiled, setting the clipboard you'd been holding on the side of the pool. 

"Hello!" You called, "Here for the parent-child swim lesson?" Stolas nodded and you stepped out of the barely knee-deep pool to come over to him. To his surprise, you seemed to be a sinner, rather than an imp or hellhound like he'd expected. Your appearance differed from them greatly, and there was an energy about you that told him you had to be a human soul. 

You smiled and introduced yourself. "I'll be teaching our class every week," you explained, "If anything is too difficult or uncomfortable for you two as we get started, please let me know. Private lessons means I have a little more flexibility in what we do." You winked at the last part, and though it made the prince's heart beat quicker, he was fairly certain you just meant it playfully. 

"Anyway, who is this little one?" You asked, turning to the little owlet in his arms, whose big round eyes were staring up at you. 

"This is my daughter, Octavia," Stolas replied, immediately relaxing now that the topic of conversation had changed, "She's about a year old; I hope that's alright!" You waved him off.

"That's perfect," you said, gently reaching out towards the baby, "I've worked with kids much older and much younger than this." Octavia's tiny hand grabbed one of your fingers and you smiled kindly before looking up at her father. "And you're Prince Stolas, right?" He blinked.

"Just Stolas is fine!"

You nodded before removing your hand from the owlet's grip and standing up straighter. "Well, if you're ready, then we can get started." You said, that professional air returning to you, "I was thinking we'd have her in the shallow area to start with and ease her into slightly deeper waters." Stolas nodded, setting his bag down on a pool chair and then following you to the water. 

Now that you'd been properly introduced, Octavia was eager to follow after you, and he held her little hands as she stepped into the shallowest area of the pool. You giggled, encouraging her along the way. 

Once she stood so that the water was up to her knees, you brought out a dive toy and placed it on the pool floor, asking her to reach down and grab it to get her a little closer to the water. Stolas sat by her as she did so with ease, and then you moved the toy slightly deeper. 

He admired how much energy you seemed to have with his owlet, as well as how kind you were to her. Your soft voice and easy patience was a stark contrast to Octavia's mother; that was for sure. The two of you watched her repeatedly pick the dive toy up from increasingly deeper as if she had no care in the world. 

Finally, he broke the quietness between you two as you congratulated Octavia at another job well done. "Do you often teach lessons here?" He asked a little awkwardly, "I haven't seen many human souls in this ring of hell before." You smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I teach almost all the lessons we offer here," you replied, moving Via's dive toy again, "It's the same job I had while I was alive, and I guess it's the only thing I've really found that I'm good at."

Stolas couldn't argue with that. Usually, Octavia was much more timid around water than this. She wouldn't even go in it at all if he wasn't holding her hand the whole time. With you, though, she was so enthusiastic that she hadn't even noticed the lack of touch. It was like he'd brought a different baby to the pool altogether today. 

"I see," he replied with a nod, smiling down at his daughter, who was happily splashing some of the water. "Do you have any children of your own?" You shook your head.

"Nope, I mostly kept to myself while I was alive- and, I guess, while I've been dead, too." You shrugged, "But when I found out how few kids in my neighborhood knew how to swim, I started doing lessons to keep them a little safer." 

Stolas nodded, wondering if it would have been too much to hope that 'keeping to yourself' meant you didn't have a spouse or partner, either. 

"If you're ready, we can move to the deeper water exercises." You changed the subject now and the prince nodded, placing a reluctant Octavia back on his hip and bringing her towards the deeper pool nearby. There, you helped him perform the next exercise, which consisted of him resting the owlet's head on his shoulder and trying to get her to kick her legs as he moved her through the water on her back. She was less enthusiastic about that, but you were quick to think; holding a toy up so her focus would shift. 

That calmed her down a lot, and soon enough she was kicking her legs happily as she giggled at you. "Do you get many attendees to your lessons?" Stolas asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation with you again, "I know those who died and ended up here aren't at as much risk of drowning." You nodded.

"That's why I work here," you smiled, "People in the pride ring aren't really concerned about dying unless it's at the hands of angels. I still think water safety is important, though."

The prince couldn't argue there. After all, that was why he'd signed Octavia up for these lessons. That, and he'd thought it would be nice for the two of them to get out of the house together for an activity. 

"Then I applaud you for your work!" He replied, "I'm sure many hellborn children can be quite difficult to teach." You laughed.

"You have no idea how much hellhounds hate swimming." 

The rest of the lesson went on just like that. With each new exercise, you found yourself getting that much more comfortable talking with Stolas, and vice versa. Octavia was also doing extremely well with everything you threw at her, and at this rate, you knew she'd be confidently swimming around on her own soon enough. 

Finally, the lesson ended and you praised the little owl before dismissing the class and hopping out of the water. Feeling warmer than you had when you began, you grabbed your clipboard to prepare for your next class.

Stolas glanced your way as he carefully dried Octavia off. "Same time next week, then?" He asked with a grin and you nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He didn't say anything, but inside, he knew he would be too. Just as he was grabbing his bag to leave, you came over and handed him a small piece of paper. The owl prince raised an eyebrow. 

"My number," you explained with a smile, "just in case." He nodded at that, feeling his heart flutter as he placed the paper in his pocket, and then you waved them both off as they left.

It seemed he'd gotten more enjoyment out of these little swim lessons than expected, and he couldn't wait to come back. 

[razorblade180-heated]

War of the Roses

[Caution: Smut!]

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Whoever first said that deserves a pat on the back and kick to the shin. Perhaps it was due to personal experience, but Ruby was never fond of missing loved ones. It’s why she always tried to be a part of anything when possible. All and all, she’s had moderate success. Team with her sister, friends that included her often, and most impressively, two romantic partners.

As much as she would like to think of herself as a secret genius in the field of love, in actuality, she somehow managed to look attractive to both Weiss and Jaune. Not sure how blowing herself up in the courtyard a few years ago led to such an achievement but she wasn’t going to question it. Her relationship with the two have always felt special to her; not to mention she wasn’t as oblivious as others might think. Ruby was fairly crafty in a harmless way.

She had never expected Weiss to confess when she did, but when the day came, Ruby had already given quite a bit of thought about her own feelings. Weiss had her flustered beyond belief everyday but Jaune’s kindness and mutual interests had her charmed so badly it wasn’t even funny. If it had been freshman year, she wouldn’t have dared to get them both in the same room and propose dating both. The fact Weiss entertained the conversation at all said volumes about her change in perspective on Jaune as they went through school together. As for him, there was no point hiding the idea of a relationship with both his current and former crush sounded too good to be true. Poor guy remained relatively neutral and silent during the entire discussion.

Despite the bold proposal, somehow, they’ve made it work better than Ruby expected. It was definitely a little weird at first, that was for certain, but over time they hit their stride. Ruby was all in from the beginning. She was up for any kind of date and matched and was careful to listen to both. Although pushy at times, she knew those two needed nudges in respective directions when it came to solo and group interactions. Still, Ruby never imagined the day they’d get along so well that eventually feelings were flowing in every direction! She can’t claim to be a romantic genius but Ruby definitely felt like a decent match maker.

These days, things are pretty calm and sharing an apartment for their last year at Beacon has been pretty cozy. Indeed, she has truly done wonderfully in sticking around all the things she loves. Unfortunately, that line has always stopped at two points. “Group fun” which is admittedly a hard sell given the different temperaments of the two; and the inescapable mission hours they had to put in.

Ruby laid on the couch lazily and sighed as she missed her blonde dork. “I never would’ve thought I’d be counting the days for a partner to return like I’m a kid waiting for Santa.”

“Ruby, he’s been gone a month.” Weiss said candidly, washing a couple dishes. “That’s far from a year.”

“And yet it feels just as baaaaad!”

“Well, I guess it would’ve helped if JNPR didn’t take an undercover mission.”

“Right!?” Ruby sat up aggressively. “Radio silence is the worst!”

Weiss had to agree. Though she wasn’t nearly as antsy as her redhead was, she had been a little concerned. Undercover missions were risky. “At least the hard part is over. We literally got a call last night that he's coming back today. Honestly we were worried for nothing. Ren is a master at stealth while Nora and Pyrrha know how to adapt. Jaune probably had the perfect plan for them.”

Ruby raised a brow and smiled. “We?” She said cheekily. “Last time I checked, someone was pretending to be unbothered.”

A tint of red washed over Weiss as she huffed. “Hmph! You make me sound cold. Of course I was worried. I just don’t let it go to my head like some people!” She put the dishes away and whispered, “He’s my boyfriend too ya know…”

Those words filled Ruby with such joy. She couldn’t help but dash over and hug her adorable girlfriend from behind. “Awww! Weiss!!!”

“Unhand me!”

“Nope! Don’t fight the affection. I’m sure Jaune would be very happy to hear that.”

“Speak of this and you are washing your own dishes forever.” Weiss looked over her shoulder to see the girl still grinning, going as far to even kiss Weiss’s nose. “You’re so annoying at times.”

“Whatever, you love this. Sooooo now that I know I’m not the only one missing him, should I expect a text to wear headphones again?”

“No!” Weiss defended. “Unlike you, I’m not some frustrated dog.”

“So he’s all mine then today? Sweet.”

“Let him rest! He’s not even back yet and I’m sure he’ll be hungry.”

“You make it sound like there haven't been times we came back from missions wanting to spend a little quality time with him, or Jaune being extra affectionate with one of us.”

Once again, Weiss couldn’t exactly deny the instances where she returned from slaying Grimm for weeks and wanting nothing more than a nice bath and a body rub from Jaune that went a little too far.

“Be that as it may, this is different!” Weiss huffed again. “It’s not as if you’ve exactly been starved of intimacy.” She muttered.

Almost on cue, Weiss felt Ruby’s head rest in the crook of her neck, planting a warm kiss as the reaper’s hand outlined her figure. Weiss let out a soft gasp feeling Ruby nip her earlobe.

“That’s true~” Ruby giggled. Just as her hands teasingly went for Weiss’s shirt, the woman reached up and pinched the bridge of Ruby’s nose. “Ow ow ow ow! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Not everyone has your energy. Have a little decency. We are in the kitchen!”

“You talk about energy and decency but you’re just a little shy. Although if you get comfortable like last night then- ow! Ow! My nose!” She screams nasally.

“What happens in the mood, stays in the mood. Understand?”

“Got it! Please release me.”

Weiss lets the poor girl go and kisses her nose. “Dunce.”

“Love you too.”

Their little antics came to an end once they heard the automated click of the door. Both girls walked out of the kitchen and peeked around the corner in perfect sync to spot Jaune dropping his duffel bag and taking off his shoes.

“He lives!” Ruby cheered, catching his attention.

“Hey Rubes- wait, was there doubt?” Instead of an answer he got her jumping into his arms and clinging to him like a sloth; he also earned a nice kiss on the cheek. “Haha, I missed you too.”

Weiss took a far more casual approach, walking up to him with folded arms and a smile. “How was-” her words were immediately cut off by a quick surprise kiss. “Your mission?” She finished, blood rushing to her face.

“Every plan is foolproof until something blows up.” He laughed tiredly. “Ups and downs. Nothing we couldn’t handle. We’re technically home a little early.”

Ruby hopped down, allowing the man to actually rest his body. “Early? Pfft, this felt like an eternity. We need to have more joint missions. At least then we’re all in the thick of it.”

Weiss shuddered at the thought. “Any mission asking for team RWBY and JNPR is one misstep away from being at minimum a city crisis.”

“And we would handle it wonderfully!” Ruby said with pride. Meanwhile her partners looked at such confidence with exhaustion before walking to the living room. “Hey! It’s true!”

Jaune flopped onto the couch in comfort while Weiss made her way to the fridge. “Hungry? We actually have leftovers for once.”

“I’m good. Ren was nice enough to make us a meal before we headed out.”

“I’m shocked you kept it down the entire trip here.” She teased, looking for a drink.

“It was a short flight. We traveled by train mostly.”

“That explains it.” Weiss pulled out three water bottles before turning around to see Ruby cuddling up under Jaune. The girl truly had no ounce of shame under this roof. Her hand rubbed his chest gently while her face found a home in the crook of the knight’s neck, causing him to blush. “Feel free to roll her off the couch. No one would blame you.”

“Pretty sure Ruby would.” He felt her teeth slightly grace his skin before kissing it.

“You smell nice. The trip home must’ve been calm.” She sank deeper into him. “Are you sleepy, or tired? I can work with tired.” She cooed, kissing him again.

Not even Weiss was immune from blushing under these conditions. Even though he’d just returned, Jaune kissed Ruby back with simmering passion to indulge her. “Animals. Both of you.”

Ruby smiled cheekily. “Guilty. I guess I bring it out of people. So about what I said earlier; have any objections?”

“Pfft, help yourself. Just don’t get us a noise complaint. I’m gonna finish my show.”

Ruby could tell Weiss was a bit pouty but the heiress was always a little shy when it came to openly admitting to feeling horny. Still, she’d make it clear when she wanted attention. Looks like she really was okay letting Jaune rest. One day Ruby would like to gain such discipline.

The reaper hopped off the couch and took Jaune by the hand. “Hear that? You’re all mine for now.” She carefully walked backwards down the hall towards her room.

“Hehe, so you were discussing it beforehand? I’m flattered.”

“My pleasure~”

“Get a room.” Weiss teased, tossing them water bottles. “Don’t kill him. I’d actually like to share a meal later tonight.”

Ruby flashed a toothy grin as confirmation before whisking Jaune away, closing the door behind them. “Don’t let her fool you. She missed you tons.”

“I know.” He smiled softly. “I’ll help make dinner as thanks.

“With how red her face was, I can think of better ways than a delicious casserole. Honestly I really thought today might be the day all three of us had fun together.”

The idea of that itself was enough to make Jaune’s cheeks fiery red. “That might be a bit much.”

“Hehe. Doesn’t sound like you’d hate it.”

“That’s neither here nor there.” He deflected. Some fantasies can stay private. Being in a throuple was already an outcome he never rationalized. “Anyways, to answer your question, I am a bit tired.”

“No worries. That’s just another reason to spoil you.” Ruby ran her hands up his body and over his shoulders. “I really missed you. I’m glad you’re safe.”

She stood on her toes and kissed him gently, slipping her tongue into his mouth for a deeper kiss that made them groan. Their feet guided them closer towards the bed where Ruby playfully pushed him onto. Much like Weiss, Jaune was always a bit bashful in the beginning. Fortunately, Ruby knew what made the boy tick. She kept her eyes locked onto him as she got on her knees, her hands effortlessly undoing his jeans and pulling them off effortlessly.

“You’re way too good at that.”

“You’ve given me plenty of practice.” Ruby kissed the growing bulge underneath his blue boxers, earning a sweet groan from him as she fished out the erection. “Are you sure you’re tired?” She teased, running tongue up the base.

“Ruby~” Jaune moaned instinctively. The girl’s warm tongue swirled around his swollen tip before she greedily swallowed his cock. “Aaaghn!”

That’s it. That’s what she wanted to hear. She took him halfway down her throat, her mouth refusing to handle all seven inches. Maybe if he wasn’t so girthy then she could endure, but she’d never wish to change something like that. Her eyes remained fixed on his as she bobbed her head, lathering his shaft as she stroked the base. A month was clearly a long time for him too. He was already throbbing and precum overwhelmed her senses.

Jaune reached for strands of her red hair, running his hands through them as his hips buckled. “R-Ruby! Just like that!” He was getting close. Jaune felt the pleasure rise dangerously high before Ruby removed her mouth, halting his orgasm. “You’re so evil.” He panted.

Ruby took a sip of her water to cleanse her pallet. “Swallowing is hard!” She defended, embarrassed by her limitations. “Besides, there’s better places to cum.”

She stood up, pulling off her shirt in one fell swoop and leaving Jaune speechless as he watched her boobs bounce freely. Honestly it was flattering how many times she’s done this and yet he still looked awestruck. Personally she was still a little envious of her sister but not once did Weiss or Jaune ever complain, so why should she? Ruby hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down slowly, putting on a little show for her knight.

The way this dorky girl could become so alluring always amazed Jaune. Her nice toned thighs, the slight tuft of red hair over glistening pink lips, it never failed to stir him up. “Stunned as always.”

“I can say the same about you.” She blushed, climbing on top of him. Her hands slid under his shirt to help pull it off to reveal years of hard work. “I remember when your abs weren’t on par with mine.”

“Let’s not talk about those dark days.”

“Haha, what do you mean?” She pushed him down against the bed gently, keeping her hands on his broad chest. “You looked good then, and you look good now. Just relax and I’ll prove it to you.”

Jaune watched Ruby close her eyes as she angled the tip against her entrance. Slowly, her mouth fell open as she sank down onto his length, gasping silently until her soft ass was sitting on his lap. He felt her grip squeeze him eagerly the moment her hips rocked forward and raised up before sitting back down.

“Aaagh, gods.” It felt like her body was getting split open. “Don’t leave for a month again!” She found a steady rhythm to keep herself sane.

Jaune could feel her dripping down his shaft as he watched her face contort and her chest bounce. Despite her words, Jaune wasn’t about to lay down and do nothing. Not when her biggest weakness was right in front of him. He didn’t think twice about palming her boobs, his fingers honing in on pink, perky nipples to pinch. Immediately he felt her pussy mold around him in response.

“F-Wait!” Ruby panted, feeling a jolt run down his spine as he pinched harder. “I said to relax~” she whined.

“I am.” A raspiness hung on his words. Jaune tugged and rubbed the sensitive nubs. “I’m watching my favorite thing right now, so don’t hold back.”

There’s that confidence she liked. A lustful grin crept onto her face briefly before returning to moans as she fucked herself on Jaune’s cock, grinding it against her favorite spots feverishly. “Aaa~” her hips got more aggressive. “AAAGHA!”

So much for being quiet. Ruby leaned forward more, placing her right hand against the wall to steady her riding more. She felt Jaune release her right tit only to immediately capture it with an eager tongue that showed no mercy, driving her hips to go mad and make the bed creak. She could feel his dick throb violently as they both lost their composure.

“Don’t cum yet! I’m so close! I’m-” He bit her nipple, hard. “AAAAH!”

Ruby slammed down on his lap one final time before her body convulsed. From head to toe, please crashed into her as a month of pent up aggression flooded her womb. All her strength fizzled out for a second, causing her to lay on top of Jaune.

The young man didn’t allow Ruby to rest. He greedily took her lips. A move she happily accepted. Jaune placed his hands on her hips and carefully rolled over; he found the strength to pull away from the kiss and sit up between her legs.

“I missed you too.” He pumped his cock into Ruby, watching the girl cover her mouth as he played with sensitive pussy.

“Mmmngh~” what happened to being tired? Sure he wasn’t moving nearly as fast as she was, but Jaune really didn’t need to in this position. Every thrust poked, prodded, and scratched the various itches her insides craved. Jaune even went a step further by grabbing her legs and letting them hang off his shoulders. “Fuuuck!”

It was always cute when she swore. It was one of the few things Ruby truly found embarrassing, yet a few managed to slip out when she was really feeling good. Their arousal mixed together and made thrusting that much easier. They weren’t going to last long like this.

“You ready for a second load!” He gasped.

Ruby removed her hands. “H-Hug me~” She begged, reaching for him. Jaune bent down for her and Ruby took his lips again, sucking on his tongue while his thrusts remained deep. She could feel his tip relentlessly knock on the back of her walls before another load forced them to grip his cock again. Both their bodies went completely rigid before finally going limp. Ruby’s legs fell off her boyfriend’s shoulders and the two gasped for air like they finished a marathon. Although in this case, a sprint was more like it. Jaune pulled himself off her, grabbing their water before rolling over to lay next to her.

“Y-You good?”

“I think you lied about being tired.” She laughed through her breathing. “You might’ve been as eager as me.”

“It’s been a month. Even I have my limits.” He sat up and took a sip of his water. Ruby followed suit, quickly regaining her typical enthusiasm.

“That felt amazing.” She said with brimming joy. “Although I didn’t mean to swear at the end.”

“It’s amazing that’s what you’re hung up on.”

“I was raised in a house with a swear jar. It puts fear in you.” She lamented. “Those were rough times.”

“Hahah, I bet.” Jaune wiped sweat from his forehead. He wasn’t expecting things to escalate that rapidly. “What are the odds Weiss heard us?”

“You absolutely know she did.” Ruby said bluntly. As if on command Jaune’s scroll vibrated with a message from the regal young lady.

“Let me guess,” Ruby put her hands together. “She wants to have a chat with you whenever we’re finished?”

He knew they were teammates, but it was scary how well they could get into each other’s heads. “Lucky guess.”

“Ha! She’ll let you off easy. Or maybe the noise got her feeling frisky after all? Honestly, it wouldn’t be a hassle for her to join.”

“You’re really stuck on that, aren’t you?”

“Of course!” Ruby huffed. “We’re all dating. More importantly, I love you both. It feels a bit weird that it’s never happened. I get you two are both a little awkward but we could work through it.”

“And you’re not awkward!?”

“Jaune, I dragged you in here. The one thing I’m not awkward about is expressing my feelings to you both.”

He hated to admit it but that was very true. “I think it has more to do with how we might act or want to act in certain situations.”

“Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t know which one of you leads. You’re both pretty polite, all things considered.” Ruby looked at the red mark left on her tit. “Even when you’re getting into the swing of things.” She giggled. “Level with me. Do you ever think about threesome? Be honest.”

“It’s crossed my mind on a few occasions.” He rubbed the back of his head. “How could it not?”

“See? I knew I wasn’t crazy. I bet Weiss has thought of it too. She really has a soft spot for you.”

“That could be the same for you.”

“Well duh, but it’s a bit different. She started with a crush on me. With you, that didn’t just grow over time. The giant crush she knew you had on her was flustering.”

“It-It wasn’t that giant.” He lied, knowing nobody would ever believe that.

“Jaune, all of Beacon knew. I knew, which made it shocking when you eventually looked my way; I was always looking at both of you, so I count myself pretty lucky.”

“We really did find our rhythm, didn’t we?”

“I’ll say!” Ruby smiled. “But there’s room to make more music. Not just for pleasure’s sake, but because the intimacy feels really nice. Is it weird to call it bonding?”

“Hehe, no, no I get what you mean.” Jaune looked at the message again, pondering this moment. He could tell Weiss missed him. It was just a little difficult to show around Ruby. Maybe it was rooted in her home environment, but Weiss seemed to generally do better in one on one meetings. Kinda ironic given her popularity on and off stage. “This really means a lot to you?”

Ruby raised a curious brow. “Are you saying you’ll help?”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t really have a plan when it comes to this kind of thing. I do think you’re right though about the feelings tied up in it, so I might as well try.”

Jaune got up and began dressing himself again. “I’m gonna go see what she wants. Ruby, do you trust me?”

“Forever and always.” She said fondly, tilting her head. “What do you need?”

“Ten minutes. Stay in here that long. After that come to Weiss’s room but don’t knock. Just assess everything for yourself.”

Now she was intrigued. “Okay? I can do that no problem.”

“Awesome.” He kissed her one more time before leaving. Jaune didn’t bother putting on his shirt again. No matter the outcome, it was going to be off. Either for Weiss or the shower he wanted to take.

He walked down the hallway and quickly noticed Weiss wasn’t in the living room anymore. Her room it is then. Instead of knocking, Jaune texted ‘we are done’ and hit send. He wasn’t expecting the girl’s door to swing open; much like Weiss wasn’t expecting the blonde to be in her doorway shirtless. They both blushed instantly.

“Someone is confident in their chances today.” Weiss pursed her lips. “Was being tired a lie?”

“I just didn’t feel like putting it back on! I’m a little hot at the moment.” He defended.

“I bet. Must you two be so loud? You made watching tv very…distracting.”

“So you did hear?

“Dolt, don’t play dumb! How could I not hear!? Ruby was literally shouting.” Weiss brushed her hair out of her face. “Guess she finally settled down.”

“Hehe, yeah. She’s laying down. So, umm, may I come in?”

That question made her ears burn, but she wasn’t about to fold so easily. “And why exactly?”

“Because I missed you just as much, and I think you missed me too.”

Damn him. A genuine response! Weiss remained silent. She stepped backwards out of the doorway, allowing him in. Weiss closed the door behind him and was about to lock it, when his arms suddenly wrapped around her body and picked her up the same way Ruby had jumped into his embrace. She didn’t even get a word out before receiving a hot kiss from her boyfriend.

“Mmph!?” She broke it . “H-Hold on a-” Nope. Another kiss. One that played with her tongue and buzzed her head.

Jaune walked over to her perfectly made bed and placed Weiss on her back as he continued to make out with her. She felt his lips leave only to assault her neck.

“Ah~ Jaune~” her body trembled as she felt him kiss her ear. His fingers ran up her long slender legs as she felt his weight lay over him like a blanket. That’s when dangerous words spilled from his lips like wine.

“Have you been a good girl?” He whispered, causing every inch of her body to shudder in anticipation.

“Yes sir~”

xxxxx

In no time at all, ten minutes flew by. Thankfully Ruby had the ability to stand by then. She wasn’t quite sure if she should get dressed so she settled for wearing her cloak as a means to retain some modesty while entertaining the hallway. Being naked in the hallway always felt embarrassing despite doing way worse behind a door. The young woman refocused herself.

“No sound from the living room. In which case…” she tiptoed towards Weiss’s door. She didn’t even need to open it to hear the sound of fidgeting bed springs. “And she acts like I’m the eager one?” Ruby smiled.

Carefully, the girl twisted the doorknob and peaked inside. The grin on her face quickly vanished while her face went dark red from what was a few feet away. At the edge of the bed was Jaune, sitting comfortably as the white haired girl stood on her knees between his legs without a single piece of clothing. Though her face was obscured, the girl’s shadow showed Ruby how Weiss placed her face in Jaune’s lap completely. Her throat made a wet and messy sound as her head bobbed repeatedly as Jaune rubbed her head.

His view was far more amazing. Weiss’s icy blue eyes went against her deep red blush perfectly. “You’re so perfect~” he moaned, leaning back more. “That’s my girl.”

The praise made her head swim deeper into pleasure. Weiss didn’t think twice about wrapping her lips tighter around his cock. Her tongue led a trail down the shaft, guiding him to the back of her throat to feel him ache. “Mmmmmnnngh~” she had missed this taste so much.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Mmhmm~”

“How’s Ruby taste?”

Weiss popped him out of her mouth, gasping heavily before immediately kissing along the shaft. “Delicious.” She muttered, lapping up the shaft. Her right hand grew impatient. Weiss couldn’t help herself from gently rubbing herself as she took care of Jaune.

Ruby couldn’t believe her ears, or her eyes for that matter. Sure, Weiss could be dirty, but the sight of her swallowing Jaune whole wasn’t something she ever expected!

“Taste more of her.” Jaune groaned, raising his hips to meet her. Carefully he thrusted up while getting a tighter grip on her hair.

“Mmmph!” Weiss shut her eyes, concentrating on her breathing as Jaune played with her mouth. The feeling of her own arousal dripping from her fingertips stirred her up to no end. She wasn’t the only one.

Jaune’s eyes shifted towards the door to spot Ruby playing with herself silently. Their gaze met briefly, deepening both their arousal before Jaune put his attention back on Weiss. “I think it’s time to show you how much I missed you.”

Ruby continued to watch in disbelief as Jaune pulled Weiss off of his cock and brought her up onto his lap. The flustered man she adored was being far rougher than Weiss than he ever did with Ruby. Then again, she never really gave him the opportunity. He was typically timid at the start. Did he always treat Weiss like this? Could he treat her like this if she asked?

His arms wrapped around Weiss’s petite frame before falling back onto the bed. Ruby saw his swollen tip rub the entrance lustfully before actually spreading Weiss open in almost one fell swoop.

“Aaagh! Fuck!” Her lungs struggled for air as she felt his length pull out easily before rushing back into the point her ass smacked against his legs repeatedly; causing Weiss to scream in bliss. “Not so rough!” She whined, knowing he’d keep the pace. “She’ll hear!”

“Let her. I don’t think she’ll mind.”

And that was a fact! Ruby could see everything. Each time he went in, Weiss’s pussy quivered and coated Jaune’s dick in her cream Ruby loved so much. The sound of both their grunts alongside the intense noise of flesh meeting made Ruby bite her bottom lip. Her fingers weren’t enough, but she remained where she was. All the while, her core ached as the thought of Jaune on top of her came rushing back.

Weiss was in her own world. The embrace Jaune had her in left her with only the ability to bite his neck and call out his name. She resigned herself to the whims of this position until he rolled over and kissed her deeply. Her moans were swallowed by his each time he rubbed her womb. Jaune repositioned his arms by the sides of her head which finally allowed her to cling properly to his body.

“Like this!” She whimpered, nails running along his back. “Fuck me just like this. Aghn, I missed you.”

“I missed you too. You look so beautiful right now.”

“Sh-Shut up!” Her walls begged harder for his cum.

“It’s true. You’re so beautiful.” Jaune rose up from her grasp, his hips still at work. “I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Weiss saw him shift his eyes to her left. In the haze of pleasure, she managed to turn her head and gasped upon seeing Ruby at the edge of the bed completely naked and face flushed redder than the hood she abandoned. “R-Ruby!?”

“Yell at me later~” Ruby couldn’t hold out any longer. She went straight for Weiss’s lips and gave her nothing short of pure desire.”

The girl’s body was in shock for a second, but her tongue danced around Ruby’s like it had countless times before. Weiss’s hand kept Ruby’s face close. She was too close to her limit and too far into pleasure to do nothing aside from act on said pleasure. The reaper’s hand massaged Weiss’s breasts and trailed down grazing her clit while the cock inside her raged, causing another carnal scream. Try as she might, Weiss couldn’t fight back any longer and her orgasm poured out of her while her body trembled with euphoria.

Her convulsions were so great that Jaune had no choice but to pull out and take a breath before he too was sent over the edge. Something told him he was going to need to pace himself for this experience. A hard thing to do when there were two gorgeous women making out in front of him.

With Jaune out of Weiss, Ruby took the initiative to fully climb onto Weiss as they continued to kiss. She was half expecting to get bit as payback but even as her love calmed down, all Weiss did was kiss her lazily as her hands roamed over Ruby, settling on her ass.

“He was right.” Ruby said between kisses. “You are beautiful.”

“Don’t act cute. I’ll get my payback.” Weiss nipped Ruby's neck briefly before allowing the girl to suck on her tongue again. No doubt Jaune bent the knee to her. “I don’t know how much you saw, but I won’t stand for it.”

“Why be embarrassed? I love you.” Ruby rubbed her hips against Weiss, causing a moan from both. “I want these moments with you.”

“Y-ngh~ needy. Just know, I won’t be the only one moaning like a fool.” Weiss kissed back feverishly.

Ruby felt the girl’s hands spread her ass open and pump a single finger into her sopping wet entrance. “Mmm, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Weiss bit Ruby’s earlobe before whispering, “I’m distracting you.”

Before she could react, Ruby felt her body accept Jaune’s length in one push, causing her body to jolt and mind to buzz as she felt his hands press down on her hips before he fucked her. Air was caught in her lungs while her body was robbed of strength. Weiss’s left hand kept Ruby nice and open for Jaune while her right hand held Ruby’s jaw in order to get a good look at the mess the girl was turning into.

“Now you’re beautiful too.” Her words caused Ruby to blush wildly. The mischievous girl tried avoiding Weiss’s gaze, but she wouldn’t allow it with her hand still holding her jaw. “Nuh uh. Look at me baby. Oh you’re loving this, aren’t you.” She teased, giving the girl a taste of her own medicine for once. Weiss wasn’t lying though. Ruby looked so cute like this.

“W-Waaaait!” Ruby gasped. She could feel her walls get worked over nice and evenly with every thrust. The feeling of both their lusts devoured her body bit by bit. Weiss’s forwardness was one thing, but Jaune, he had never been quite this aggressive before. “I’m sensitive from before!”

Wiess could feel Jaune poke around inside their girlfriend. “Fuck her harder.” She groaned. “I want to feel her unravel.”

Weiss stopped holding back and pressed her lips against Ruby’s neck, licking and sucking as she wanted while the girl breathlessly took Jaune’s dick from behind. Their bodies were soon covered in a layer of sweat and Ruby could barely support any of her weight. The impact from Jaune occasionally made her nipples graze against Weiss’s, causing further noises to leak out her lips. Ruby felt Weiss’s right hand run through her head and keep it steady as the girl remained determined to give Ruby the biggest hickey of her life.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum!” Ruby panted, fearing her own orgasm. “I- AAAGH!”

The poor girl’s vision went white. Her fingers dug into bed sheets as her body spasmed violently. Heat spread throughout her stomach from the addictive and sudden rush of Jaune’s cum filling her up as he gripped her ass firmly against his waist.

“It’s still going~” Ruby muttered, her walls clenching from every sensation in and out of her. Even the warmth from Weiss’s lips running along her neck stole further strength to the point Ruby went limp. “Mercy~” she whined.

Jaune wasn’t even being mean but he obliged, finally pulling out and sitting back to catch his own breath. Personally he wasn’t sure what was left in his own take. Weiss on the other hand wasn’t as benevolent. Jaune watched her roll over to top Ruby before continuing to torture her with kisses briefly.

“She is so petty.” Jaune held back a chuckle.

“Still alive?” The girl said, looking down at her handiwork. Weiss wasn’t without a little mercy. Even she needed air. “You sounded like you were having fun.”

“Because I was.” Ruby sighed, slowly coming down from her high. Ruby felt the girl’s lips press on her chest again. Each kiss was slow and deliberate as they traveled down her body. “Baby, wait.”

“Shhhh. Relax, I won’t go crazy.” Weiss hummed. Though she tried to act defiant and upset about the situation, it poorly masked how much this situation stirred her more carnal fixations. Weiss couldn’t hold back anymore. Her mouth briefly hovered over Ruby’s pussy, its entrance still dripping with lust. Weiss slipped her tongue right inside and helped herself to the taste of both of her lovers.

Ruby placed a hand over her mouth, her face turning dark red from the unexpected sensation. “Sh-She’s licking it out!?” Her hips quivered from the feeling of Weiss’s tongue curling up and running along the top before flicking out and swirling her clit. Ruby was about to go crazy if the girl did that again, but Weiss seemed to show a little mercy, at first anyways. Blue eyes returned overhead to look down into silver. Only now they didn’t hide a shred of arousal. In fact, it went deeper than Ruby had imagined.

“You really know how to push my buttons. Be mad at yourself if you see something hideous.”

Before Ruby could even ponder the meaning of her words, Weiss pulled away the hand over her mouth and went in for a kiss that held nothing back. Her tongue was quickly stolen, given the bewitching punishment of receiving the cocktail of tastes Weiss had blended together. It all made Ruby’s heart pounded with each new experience Weiss delivered. She’s never been this needy. This…erotic. Ruby couldn’t help but wrap her arms around the girl’s shoulders and accept the fire she ignited.

The two of them let their bodies melt into each other without a care. They might have spent ages kissing hungrily if it wasn't for a rush of pleasure that hit their core as they felt something long and hard slide between their lower lips. A moan left them; Weiss looked over her shoulder to see Jaune looking at her with half lidded eyes.

“Someone really is greedy today.”

“Who wouldn’t be in this situation?” Jaune began thrusting his hips slowly, earning their moans. “Do you think I could keep my calm seeing you do all that?”

Weiss flashed a smirk then turned back to Ruby’s whimpering face. “You always do crack more getting rubbed then fucked.” Weiss giggled, before a firm right hand struck her rear; the large finger kneaded her ass like dough before sending a chill up her spine. Weiss felt a mix of shame and pleasure burn her cheeks as Jaune’s thumb circled around her asshole, pressing inside ever so slowly to the first knuckle. “NAAGH!”

Ruby watched the girl’s face gain a few shades of red as she bit her lip. “You’re just as bad as me.” She teased, unaware of what punishment was given to make them even.

Weiss shut the girl up with another test of stamina, ensuring that Ruby would be too focused on their kiss to notice a kink Jaune dared to play with in front of the reaper! Rationally, Weiss knew Ruby wouldn’t judge, but mentally, Weiss would rather jump into fire before revealing it now of all times. It was bad enough Jaune knew of it and made it harder to deny her how submissive she really could be. She was enjoying putting Ruby on the back foot for once! Why was he doing this now!?

Weiss reached back with her left in an attempt to sway away the devil hand, but was quickly restrained by Jaune’s own left hand grabbing her by the wrist before thrusting harder.

“Behave.” He rasped.

Such a simple word yet it held Weiss in a death grip that caused her hips to grind down on the man’s shaft. She tried her luck with bricking his grip but was meant with firm strength. The unruly cock that pleasured her and Ruby slipped out from between them and plunged all the way to her cervix twice. The spike in pleasure was mind numbing and caused her to gasp violently. Jaune’s cock was already out again and back between them like nothing happened.

“Behave~” he said once more.

Such an annoyingly beautiful word. It wrapped Weiss in strings that moved to orders given in moments of bliss. Weiss lowered her again to return to Ruby’s love while her back arched for Jaune to play with her ass further. Weiss didn’t care anymore. All she could do was moan alongside Ruby as they felt rubbed against a burning hot cock.

“Good girl.”

“Mmmmm~” Weiss bucked harder. She ended up being no different from Ruby, moaning endlessly while desperately trying to hold on to this moment. Her girlfriend’s nails ran up her back and through her hair as they stared longingly at one another.

Ruby drank in the sight of Weiss’s flushed, damp skin and the sound of her voice. “I love you so much~”

Weiss felt her heart flutter. “Now’s not the time!” She protested, hiding her face in the crook of Ruby’s neck.

“But I do. Mmmmgh, I do~” Ruby gently bit the girl’s earlobe as she felt her hips grind harder. “Oh my gods! Aaahh yesss~”

To be praised by Ruby and bullied mercilessly by Jaune at once, Weiss was at a loss for words. The weight of the man’s hand pushed her body further down against his cock and Ruby’s pussy as he thrusted harder; there wasn’t the slightest bit of friction with how much they coated his length from tip to base. Weiss could feel it poke her stomach and throb angrily each time it slid along their clits.

“Jaune! Can’t you cum already!?” She pleaded. “I don’t know… how much longer I can-” his thumb pumped in and out faster, ruining her train of thought. “No! F-AAH!”

Weiss couldn’t hold on any longer. The girl came so hard over the two she might as well have squirted. Desperately trying to hold onto something, she bit Ruby’s neck, bringing back a mix of pain and pleasure that brought the rose to her own release. Jaune finally allowed himself to give into his own approaching orgasm. A few more pumps through intoxicating warmth was all he could manage before cumming all over the girls’ bodies.

The hot ropes of his seed made them quiver. A final moan was shared between them as well when they felt him pull out. Ruby felt like she had run a marathon backwards. It was satisfying, but she definitely wasn’t prepared for such a challenge. She was amazed to see Weiss have the strength to get up off her.

“Thank you.” Ruby muttered, enjoying the hit of cool air on her body. A wet and familiar warmth ran along her stomach, causing Ruby to lift her head up and see the heiress silently lap up Jaune’s mess. Their eyes met for barely a second before Weiss’s darted away like they always do when she’s embarrassed.

Ruby observed silently, remembering what she saw in the beginning of all this. “She really enjoys this part.” After removing the cum off both of them, Ruby watched Weiss turn to Jaune.

The boy was still catching his breath and couldn’t help but smile sheepishly and in disbelief at the sight of Weiss laying down at waist level. “You’re always so diligent about this. It really is your favorite part.”

“Shut up.” Her bratty tone returned mildly. Weiss pushed her hair out of face and swallowed the dolt’s half erect cock, earning a groan as she began cleaning it off.

Ruby had a better view of it this time. Just how much could her girlfriend make her blush in one day? She was taking Jaune effortlessly and all he could do was help hold her hair and sigh happily. It kinda made her jealous. Weiss must’ve noticed because her eyes opened and looked right at her as if to say, “well?”

Ruby took the subtle sign as an invitation and began crawling towards Jaune’s lap on the other side of him. Weiss quickly made room, sticking towards the tip and top half as Ruby wrapped her lips along the shaft and tasted the mess they made.

“I-I think this is past cleaning off.” Jaune stuttered, watching the girls in a position he never dared to ask for. The flick of Weiss’s tongue along his tip made his erection return in earnest, and prompted the beauty to blow him again. “Ngh, guys I’m already spent!” He moaned, feeling both tongues play with him. Ruby took his free hand and placed it on her head as she looked at him, seeking his attention. Jaune gently rubbed her head and she hummed as she continued playing with his balls. “You two are too much~”

That didn’t sound like a complaint to Weiss. She worked her way down the side of this annoyingly good appendage as Ruby worked her way up, their tongues teasing him all the while. Ruby was even cheeky enough to kiss Weiss from the other side, catching her off guard on the way. She watched Ruby take Jaune about halfway before slowly bobbing her head. The best she could. There was something weirdly cute about seeing Ruby try her best to take him. She had mentioned she wasn’t exactly as great as she liked, but this was Weiss’s first time seeing it.

“Even the top has her struggles.” Weiss laughed to herself. She stopped messing with Jaune and sat up on her knees. “Here.” She held Ruby’s hair properly with both hands. “Relax your jaw, and breathe in through your nose. Take it slowly”

This was karmic justice. Ruby couldn’t help but feel embarrassed being taught how to please like this. Weiss wasn’t even being mean about it but it still felt bad!

“Stop thinking of needless things and focus. Close your eyes if you have to, although you’ll miss some good faces.”

Ruby looked at the way Jaune tried his best to keep calm; his voice slipping out each time she went lower. Ruby did as she was instructed the best she could, relaxing her jaw and taking controlled breaths. She still wasn’t about to compete with Weiss, but she could feel Jaune enter more of her throat than she ever dared to take before.

“Don’t forget your tongue.”

Ruby swirled it around his length, earning a grunt as she continued bobbing her head. How did Weiss do this!? Her jaw was already getting tired. Ruby unfortunately had to come up for proper air. “Gah! Shit, that’s tough.”

“You did pretty well honestly.” Weiss gave Ruby a peck on the cheek before going back to swallowing Jaune, causing him to yelp.

“That’s insane.” Ruby said, unable to comprehend taking it all effortlessly. She could tell Jaune was close, and returned to taking care of his shaft while Weiss went back up top. “He’s gonna blow soon.” Ruby could feel him throb.

Weiss ran her tongue over the tip slowly. “You asking to share?”

“Nah. It’s all yours~”

Weiss flashed an eager glance at Jaune before completely wrapping her lips around the head of his cock, devouring it.”

“Weiss!” He screamed, feeling her suck on it relentlessly. Ruby wasn’t helping the situation! They had him dead to rights, stealing one more orgasm from his body. All he could do is lay back as another wave of clarity washed over him.

Ruby pulled herself off of him and watched Jaune almost deflate. Still, there was a grin of satisfaction on his face. “Wow. I think you might’ve died happily.” She looked to Weiss, who was looking right at her with a rather intimidating glare despite literally swallowing seconds ago. “Ummm, you’re not mad, are you?”

Such a dumb question was answered with a swift karate chop to the forehead, causing Ruby to rub the spot in pain. “Ooowww.” She groaned.

“That’s for brazenly entering my room without permission. You put him up to this, didn’t you? I had errands I wanted to run!”

“Hey, it was his plan!” Ruby defended, until Weiss raised her hand for another chop. “But I did express great interest! I’m sorry! I’ll help with errands tomorrow!!” She said at semblance speed. The answer satisfied Weiss enough to put her hand down. Ruby spoke again with more care. “I’m sorry for being pushy. I’m dumb.”

“Shut up. You’re not dumb.” Weiss folded her arms. “I can’t sit here and act like I hated it or anything. Even so, that was rather sneaky of you. It was embarrassing letting you see me like that?”

“Pfft, why? Weiss, it was embarrassing going on our first date, becoming a throuple, and so on. You know I wasn’t swept with lust when I said I love you, right.”

“Of course I know that! I still have my dignity though.” She blushed deeply. “It’s not easy being that vulnerable. I can barely stand it around that dolt.” She stared at the sleepy blonde. Did she actually knock him out!? “I will tell him off later.”

“Hehe, go easy on the guy. You of all people know I can really sway someone.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” Weiss raised her arms for a big stretch, which gave an opening to give her a warm hug. “Ruby, I’m not mad at you. Stop pouting.”

“I’m giving affirmation. I love getting to know you better; both of you. It might not have been the best way to go about it, but I really liked how intimate this was. I know I should probably feel more guilty, but my heart is happy.”

What the heck was Weiss supposed to say to that!? “Honestly, you’re hopeless.” She hugged Ruby back.

“You definitely caught me by surprise. I knew you were bottom, but man, that well goes deep.” She giggled.

“I will hit you again.” Weiss let go of Ruby. “I don’t want to hear that from the girl who was whimpering like a dog minutes ago.”

“I was not! I was out of breath.” She looked at Jaune. “He surprised me too. I usually lead. This was a nice switch.” Ruby grinned at Weiss. “I guess you’re not the only one with dignity. He tries hard for you ya know? Who wouldn’t for their huge crush.”

Weiss turned away, embarrassed both by the fact and how relatable it was. “I am aware. He’s assertive, but unlike you he has a tad more grace in his approach. Maybe that’s why I can’t help but act differently between you two. He shares my timid nature so I can tell when he’s trying hard.”

“Awww, you love him~” Ruby fell beside Jaune, pulling Weiss along for her to fall on the other side with their hands meeting on his chest. “What do we share?”

“Aside from an overactive mind? An alarming amount of tenacity. Seriously, if he wasn’t tired from work, this could’ve been dire.”

“So what I’m hearing is next time we should plan more accordingly?” Ruby proposed, a twinkle in her eye. “Doesn’t have to be a regular thing but let’s not pretend this wasn’t a good time.”

“Too tired to discuss this now.” Weiss wormed her way under Juana’s arm and rested on his chest, closing her eyes. “Later.”

“Hehe, works for me.” Ruby followed Weiss’s lead, laying happily on Jaune and dozing off. She couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Who knows? Maybe after a good meal, a talk, and a well needed shower, they’d all get lucky again.

[kotoku]

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴇɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

pairings - sunday & teen! reader / aventurine & teen! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/not a lot of angst/mainly fluff/sibling or family dynamics/ kind of a found family fic (?)

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ I imagine Sunday meeting you as a bellhop working alongside Misha, another bellhop, who welcomes distant travelers to Penacony  

↺ If you’re a bit clumsy like Misha and accidentally spill some luggage after tripping over a hill in the rug, he’d stumble across your defeated form scattering to pick up the fallen belongings 

↺ He’d offer his assistance in organizing the fallen trolley, assessing if you had gotten hurt when you had tripped

↻ Because Sunday’s many responsibilities are to ensure people are following the rules and regulations during their stay in Penacony, he’d come across you on multiple occasions in the hotel lobby

↺ It seems like you were a fairly new worker, asking your coworkers about certain things and needing some guidance with doing things

↺ However, for the most part, you were an inquisitive and hard worker, Sunday noted

↻ One day, he would find you wandering Golden Hour, looking around at the shops curiously while holding a couple of bags

↺ He had conversed with you a couple of times, having small chats during breaks before the two of you had to return to your duties

↺ Sunday had decided to say hi, asking if you were enjoying some of the few renovations done to the dreamscape

↻ At first, you were startled at his sudden appearance, confused about why he approached you

↺ You would then answer his question, stating that you were enjoying some of the shops that had just opened up since it was your day off

↺ Sunday would give you a recommendation, a place that had recently been buzzing with customers as their food selection was one of the best Golden Hour had to offer

↺ Excitedly, you’d thank him for the tip and bid farewell to him, watching him fade in the distance

↻ When you and Sunday had gotten closer together, he’d kinda adopt you as a younger sibling

↻ On the days the both of you weren’t busy, he’d take you to see some of the events that are happening in Penacony (or different locations that he thinks you would like)

↺ Spending his time with you reminded him of the time he used to spend with Robin when the two of them were younger

↺ Watching you bubble with excitement when you saw something you liked, asking him if it was a good idea to get it reminded him of old times 

↻ One time, you jokingly call him old which made him reevaluate his life a bit (did he really seem that old??)

↺ You grew a bit worried when he didn’t respond, watching him hold his chin in deep thought (he snapped out of it after you shook him a bit)

↻ Sunday would take on the role of an older brother to you, fretting whenever you got injured while working and spoiling you rotten with trinkets he had found

↻ He would feel bad whenever he has to turn you down when he’s busy, promising to find a time when he is free from work to accompany you on what you’ve planned 

↺ If it was a limited-time event, he’d feel especially bad, planning to treat you to something to make up for the lost time (you tell him not to worry but he insists)

↻ Something that became routine for the both of you would be tea time (or going out to a restaurant)

↺ During these sessions, you and Sunday would talk about your week/day, basically spending the time talking and sometimes even gossiping about some of the rumors heard around Penacony

↺ You were careful about rumors that concerned The Family, not wanting to upset Sunday, so you mainly focused on small gossip circling around work

↻ Something that interested you about Sunday was his wings, and when the two of you hung out more, you asked him about them

↺ He explained to you about Halovians and the experiences he had with them (how he had to clean them, take care of them, etc…)

↺ If the two of you are closer enough, he’d allow you to touch them, chuckling as you gaped at them in amazement and wonder

↻ Sometimes when one of you is overworked and exhausted, the other would give a light scolding and have them rest on a nearby lounge chair, giving them a moment of rest 

↺ Sunday would offer you to rest on him, providing you his coat as a blanket and humming you to sleep 

↺ You would lead Sunday to his room, making sure he was resting comfortably after you brewed some tea for him (you’d softly close the door and resume your duties after making sure he was actually sleeping)

------

“I will be fine, _____. You do not need to worry about my well-being.” Sunday was seated on his couch in his lounge clothes, arms crossed as he watched you pour water into a kettle. 

Huffing, you turned on the heat and let the water boil, scavenging his cupboards for his tea packets. He couldn’t help but sigh when you ignored his protests, opting to lean against the couch and listen as you worked.

“You haven’t been getting much sleep for the past few days. I know that it’s been busy with the Charmony Festival in full swing, but you need to take care of yourself too, Sunday.” Setting down the finished cup of tea in front of him, you took a seat on a different chair next to him. 

Sunday blew on his tea, the smoke wafting away as he took a sip of the chamomile tea you brewed for him. 

There was a small silence between the both of you. You were fiddling with some of the accessories of your uniform, eyes cast towards the wooden coffee table. On the other hand, Sunday held his cup of tea with both of his hands, feeling the heat of the cup fade to a nice warmth. 

When Sunday had finished his tea, he set it down on the coffee table and relaxed into the soft material of the couch.

“I understand that you are concerned, _____. I promise to take better care of myself but know I will be fine.” Sunday assured you and your worries, opening his eyes to glance at you. You didn’t meet his eyes until you heard him get up from his spot on the couch, feeling a lightweight being put on your head. 

His hand lightly ruffles your hair, moving back to his side. “To ease your worries, I will be going to bed now.” 

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “Thanks, now get to bed old man.” “

I’m not that old, _____...” “Old man.” “Sigh…”

------

↻ Aventurine would meet you when you’ve just joined the IPC, becoming your superior and having you run errands or finish up paperwork 

↻ You, being the dedicated worker you are, would spend countless nights finishing projects and studying

↺ You would be so engrossed in reading something that you would accidentally bump into Aventurine from behind, stumbling back with your book falling to the floor 

↺ Massaging your temples, you would see a hand outstretched to you as an offer to help you up (which you graciously took)

↻ When you think back to that time when Aventurine helped you pick yourself up, along with your book, you flush in embarrassment and lightly berate yourself for not watching your surroundings

↻ Working with Aventurine had its perks and flaws, the perks being the pay and the flaws being the tasks and having someone so unpredictable as your boss

↺ You could never tell when Aventurine was joking or not (you found it hard to understand him so you just nodded along to the things he said)

↻ After a few months of working under him, the two of you started bonding over various things

↺ Although you were too young to gamble, you learned a couple tricks that Aventurine had when playing different card games with others (you also learned a few cheat hacks Aventurine does but we won’t talk about that)

↻ Aventurine was able to watch you slowly come out of your shell, becoming more talkative and friendly with him and your coworkers

↺ When he noticed your change in behavior, he was taken aback but was happy to embrace this newfound side of yours (he feels like a dad watching their child make friends)

↻ There is a hint of favoritism that Aventurine has with you, choosing to dote on you by purchasing various souvenirs and trinkets he gathered on his trips (they reminded him of you)

↺ A keychain? Consider it purchased. A snack basket? He already has it on hand. Aventurine spends his money like it’s nothing, especially when it comes to his kid (despite you being a teen, he still calls you ‘kid’ much to your dismay)

↻ Aventurine would definitely gossip with you about work, etc…

↻ Honestly, in a more modern (?) setting, he’d be that proud soccer mom who takes photos of his kid and boasts to the other soccer moms

↺ “You see that little rascal up there? That’s my kid!”

↻ At first, seeing you get along with Aventurine was a surprise to many, even Aventurine himself

↺ He didn’t really have friends, or at least, someone he could freely talk to about anything and everything

↺ He doesn’t really open up to you about his past until later, and even then, he tries not to be too descriptive as he doesn’t want to make you feel bad (but you still do)

↻ When you open up to Aventurine about your struggles, why you joined the IPC, etc.… he’ll see himself a bit in you, making him feel protective of you and this ultimately brings the both of you closer together

↻ Thinking about this dynamic the two of you share, Aventurine wonders if he would make for a good parent, despite the infamous reputation Sigonians have

↺ You’d notice him going quiet here and there as he looks like he’s deep in thought, waiting patiently for him to snap out of it, you’d watch as he resumes the conversation like nothing had happened

↻ If there is a chance you guys get to visit a planet together, especially if it is one that he is familiar with, he’ll give you a tour and take you to some of his favorite spots

↺ If it is one he isn’t familiar with, the two of you would look like lost children who are wandering around looking at popular spots

↻ Honestly, if you had the chance to meet Topaz, she wouldn’t understand how you can tolerate Aventurine’s behavior

↺ Nonetheless, Topaz is happy that her coworker has a connection with someone, finding the small family dynamic adorable (she’d never admit that to Aventurine)

↻ Of course, Aventurine would definitely tease you because you’re younger than him, acting like the annoying big brother he is

↺ “Huh!? Where did my chips go!? Aventurine!” “What~? Don’t look at me, I didn’t touch them.” “You’re such a liar! You have crumbs on your face! What– is that my drink that you’re holding!?” “...No..?” 

↻ Despite everything, you still enjoy spending time with your unexpected friend (and newfound family member)

------

“_____! Look at what I’ve brought~.” Aventurine sang, plopping a huge gift basket on top of your desk. The papers that were stacked fluttered a little, some falling around you onto the ground. 

You were startled at the unexpected gift, looking at all the luxurious gifts and snacks that were neatly displayed in a beautifully woven basket. The red and gold ribbon tying the clear bag at the top finished it nicely, giving it a clean yet expensive look. 

“Aventurine!? Just how much did you buy this for??” You gaped, examining the interior although the lightning made it a bit difficult to see. You could recognize a few items, all being pricey and popular on its original planet. 

“Bah! Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t help but get it since it included some of the things you were talking about before.” The way he was so casual about getting something expensive threw you off, but then again, this was Aventurine. Deciding to shake off the shock, you gave him a grateful smile. 

“Thank you, Aventurine.” “Don’t mention it, kid.” “I’m not a kid, Aventurine! If anything, you act more like one than me!” “Pff, good joke. Now get back to work, kid.” “Ugh.”

------

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - hope you guys enjoy this! i had fun writing this lol. there was actually two separate requests for an aventurine and sunday with a teen! reader, so i decided to write them together.

[enuui]

long thoughts abt watcher

its so weird to me that people are being like ‘you aren’t entitled to free content’ about the watcher situation bc that’s not the actual problem here. artists deserve to be fairly paid, but the watcher situation reveals a truly bizarre level of business incompetence and a lack of market research.

they actively cultivated a relatively young audience, actively claimed to be ‘eat the rich’ style liberals, then turned over and told that audience that they need to pay $6/month. which again, fine! dropout did it and survived, but dropout had so much more backing it up, went about the transition slowly, and on top of that, their audience was older and therefore had more spending money available.

watcher has none of that. it would be one thing if they had started marketing to an older audience months ago, or changed the style of their content to match the heavy production costs. but as it stands, they built their career off of relatively simple videos with a lower budget, gained a specific type of audience from those videos, then expected that audience to pivot with them when watcher realized they wanted to make a different type of (more expensive, more produced) content.

it can’t work that way. the audience is not acting entitled right now for feeling a shock, bc the audience became loyal to watcher due to a desire for a certain kind of content (specifically the dynamic between shane and ryan).

and if watcher wants to make different content and be paid for it on a more regular basis, that is also okay! but they severely miscalculated their existing audience, and definitely misunderstood how much their current audience wants to watch the style of videos they want to make.

also, imo, ryan and shane have admitted that they dislike the admin side of running a business. i think they truly thrived as regular content creators and not as business managers, and so they struggled to figure out how to run their company and ultimately handed over the reins to steven to wash their hands of it all and go back to making the content they want. and thats also fine, some people are not built for business and work better as individual contributors.

but ryan and shane and steven also seem to have a view that their simple content is almost… beneath them? they talk a lot abt challenging themselves to put out well produced content that their cultivated audience clearly doesn’t really care about. its a mismatch between watcher’s desires for the future and the audience they built in the past that ultimately led to this mess.

they had two options: easier option to make the type of low-budget content their audience has been proven to enjoy, or put in the work to build up an expanded audience so that they could fund the content they wanted to make, put in the work to do a longer, more well thought out transition, put in the work to make connections and figure out how to manage their revenue streams.

and instead they decided to take a shortcut and brute force their existing audience to fund their dreams, and in the process shooting themselves in the foot by alienating their audience. i just can’t comprehend how they reached this conclusion at all.

[kozachenko]

Here, have a fairly light sketch dump with two relatively complete sketches and some of the process for the main Zanmu one. Also, Gensokyo's specalist girl makes an appearance here too

Artist's Notes;

Zanmu is such a fun character to draw, like, there's so many little aspects in her design that you can emphasize, and her colour palette is so satysfying too. The reason I ended up drawing this was because when I was scrolling on Pinterest I found a specific pose that just screamed Zanmu to me (it was the skull that did it for me) and I just had to draw her in that pose. I did end up taking my liberties with my reference though, and also I am not drawing feet, I just straight up don't like it, and this is mainly something more on the sketchy side so it didn't really matter lol. Also, IDK too much about the hands, I'm usually pretty good with them but I struggled with them a bit this time. Also Zanmu is sitting on nothing because I just didn't feel like drawing what she was sitting on (plus I already drew in the clothes and including what she was sitting on would mean having to change the sleeves and I just didn't wanna do that lol). Also realized that I should probably start trying to improve on drawing frills in clothing, and I tried a new technique for drawing them. I do like how they look, but at the same time it can still be better.

I do love how Zanmu's pose turned out the most in this batch of sketches. In my process, I put the reference image on the canvas and then roughly blocked in the silhouette. One change I knew I wanted to make since the beginning of the sketching process was opening up the space between the bent arm and body more, mainly to make the silhouette of the pose clearer (even though with the addition of the clothes it does get closed up a lot). I also wanted to turn the torso towards the viewer and change the position of the legs to something more cross legged/casual. In another sketching pass, I just kinda quicjly scribbled what I wanted the pose to look like just so I could get my idea out and I'm glad I did that because that helped me focus more on the pose itself rather than the small details. Afterward, I did a sketch of the body, clothes, and hair all together and then coloured it to get the coloured Zanmu sketch!

Again, I could've done a better job with the feet and the legs themselves for that matter, but the nice thing about sketches is that they don't need to be perfect, and I was more so focused on the gesture/feel of the pose rather than the minute details. With her facial expression, I knew that I wanted something very specific with her eyes, so I just simplified it into this "almost closed" eye and I do like how it turned out a lot. Also, a problem that I often have drawing Zanmu is that in the poses I put her in, I don't really know how best to draw in those triangle cut outs she has, so instead, I added these little triangle details onto her sleeves and pants to add some visual interest and allude to them instead, also because they can kinda allude to a crown and Zanmu is the king of Hell so it fits lol (also, love it when people add details like that onto sleeves sm lol). The hair and tassles did a lot of heavy lifting when it came to making the drawing have a nice flow to it, and I have the headcanon that Zanmu is just able to make those float on there own by.... honestly I don't know, I just like the idea of her tassles defying gravity and floating all the time. Also IDK if you can see them, but I did make sure to include her scars as I'm basically adding that as a part of my way of drawing Zanmu. It just adds a certain something, y'know? Also found a specific reference for the skull and made it the red that it is in Touhou 19, and also because drawing skeletons and skulls is just fun lol.

Now onto Reimu, so that face drawing was mainly there just so I could get a better idea of how I wanted to draw her face in the future. My main concern was trying to make it different to Keiki and Zanmu's faces, so as I was sketching hers I had the drawings of Keiki and Zanmu's faces turned on to make sure I wasn't drawing the same thing again. Down here I included this little test I did where I hyper simplified the eyes of the three faces and just traced over their face shapes, noses, eyebrows, and mouths. While the nose is the most consistent trait shared among the three of them (tbf that can just be chalked down to an aspect of my style), I feel like the three are different enough from each other to where they don't have same face syndrome, even if you simplify the eyes into dots and also didn't include the detail of Zanmu's scars on her face.

I'm obsessed with giving Reimu these tiny little eyebrows for some reason, IDK it just works for her. I also really like using a red as a highlight for whenever I draw her hair black, mainly because it helps to give the illusion that her hair is just a really dark brown and incorperates her main colour of red into another aspect of the design. I also wanted to try and draw Reimu's eyelids differently to try and imply monolids but tbh IDK how well that reads. I also like how her pupils turned out, as I'm experimenting with different characters in my style having different kinds of pupils. I didn't even bother properly rendering her clothes, so I just did them linelessly (I think I wanna try drawing in my lineless style again for a future piece sometime as I kinda miss the feel it had). I of course had to give Reimu her big bow, and also use that specific shade of red. IDK what it is about that shade of red specifically, but I just love it, it looks so nice to me you have no idea- Now that I think about, I kinda wanna draw Reimu more now, as I feel like I can still do some more experimenting with how I draw her eyes specifically. Also because I've got some ideas when it comes to how I wanna draw her body type.

[meanbossart]

Hello! I love your work, and you may see my in the comments from time to time. I do have an intense question about your headcanon DU drow/Astarion relationship (TW: Abuse)

How would drow react if Star ever wanted to take a break from their relationship, however brief it would be? If ever Star wanted to travel alone and take some some time to work on himself, would drow accept this and allow Star to be alone? Or would drow’s abusive/obsessive nature take hold and keep Star within his line of sight? I ask because it must be traumatic to jump from one intense relationship to the next, especially since Star’s relationship with Cazador was completely abusive. When would Star have the time to truly dive into introspection and understand himself as a full being and not an owned object?

This question doesn’t apply to the AU’s (unless you want to answer from those perspectives too!)

Boy, how I wish I could take a year sabbatical to finish up ANE... I have so much to say about this but I need to hold back the slightest bit because of potential spoilers.

As it stands right now (as in - from the moment that their relationship became "official" and up until the current events in the fic) DU drow would not take that well. He would understand it as an attempt at breaking up with him, for certain, and just become kind of frozen at the prospect of anything happening to Astarion while he's out of his sight.

But also, It's worth noting that these two have not been apart for longer than a couple of hours since the day they met, which in my personal fiction means that they have been around each other 24/7 (or 24/10?) for 5 months straight. For Astarion, that's the longest anyone he's ever slept with has been alive for; and for DU drow that's just been his entire life literally for as long as he can remember. Splitting up would be scary for understandable reasons for the both of them. I think they both have horrific anxieties about being apart that they aren't even aware of, which makes getting over this hurdle ever the more crucial.

I don't think DU drow would turn horrifically abusive if the situation were to come up in the "now", but he'd probably employ some degree of manipulation to try and make Astarion change his mind without realizing it; bringing up how bad his chances are on his own, doubt his real motivations for going away, bring up his own sanity as if he still depends on him to exercise restraint... Concerns that are genuine, even fair, but just kind of mask the real problem which is how scared he is to be alone again.

Unless... DU drow were to realize how detrimental to himself and his relationship it is to rely on and expect to be relied upon by a singular person at all times, to the point where without them he feels as if there is absolutely nothing else to life - because, in a way, there isn't; If he were to have a difficult day and Astarion and Shadowheart weren't around(not that he's even that open about his feelings with either of them, to begin with), he'd just have to sit down and fester in that negativity, with nothing to filter it through or occupy himself with. DU drow is too concerned with coming off as self sufficient and strong in their eyes, he romanticizes both of those relationships and enjoys the narrative pay-offs they provide him with - they fit into his idea of who he is too well, and that makes actual growth difficult. Astarion does a fairly good job at pushing him into introspecting more, but if he isn't even around to do that... Well 🤷

Once DU drow has that something or someone that forces him to approach himself from a different perspective, he could start to let that shit go. Just as Astarion would probably be doing the same thing somewhere else, with someone else. It will happen eventually and they will be better people for it - not for the world, but at least for each other.

Thank you for the question! The intense ones are my favorites.

[felassan]

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

The Iron Bull:

“Kadan, You won’t believe what I did today. I got a guy to flip! Twice! So yes, all is well. Except for all the demons. And this whole thing in which I’m far away from the love of my life. Really keeps me up at night. Anyway, you hearing these rumors of a dragon on the loose? Yeah! The boys and I are on its trail. Last I heard, it was flying toward the Frostback Mountains. Can you join us? I hope you’re not uh… all tied up. Don’t worry, I’m fairly certain it’s not a Ben-Hassrath trap. And if it is, you know I’m prepared. Ataash varin kata! I love you, Kadan. See you soon. The Iron Bull.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah  --- “Dear Shepard,   As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.'  I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters.    I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together.  Keelah se’lai,   Tali’Zorah”

Another letter from Tali:

"Whatever the galaxy throws at us, I'll be at your side. - Tali" --- "Shepard It's been a while since I last struggled to sleep. You must be dreaming of falling through a fish tank or starring in a hanar vid? I can hear you muttering about jellyfish. It's funny. I've spent my whole life hoping for the future, but these days nothing scares me more. Keelah, why can't we stop time? Even for just a little bit? No war, no Reapers, nobody counting on us. Just you and me, as free as the dust in the solar wind. When this is all over, will you settle down on Rannoch with me? I love you. - Tali"

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

[slyandthefamilybook]

Who is the antisemite?

I've made many a post about the nature of antisemitism, and I don't expect I'll ever stop. But I've made relatively few posts about antisemites, who they are, and why they are. I don't mean to make a list of every antisemite in the world; I wouldn't be able to finish it before I died at my keyboard. Instead I want to explore a bit into the nature of antisemitic belief and what draws people to it, in the hopes of helping people recognize their own behaviors. This won't be a thorough taxonomy, but will focus on something I believe is at–or close to–the heart of the issue.

When I tell people antisemitism can have a racial component the response I usually get is, "but Jewish isn't a race so you can't be racist against Jews!" Now it's true that "Jewish" is not (currently) one of the accepted racial categories (up until some time in the 1950s you could list your race on U.S. censi as "Hebrew"), but that's not exactly what I mean. What I mean is that there's a pattern of thought that's part-and-parcel of racism and racist ideas, even if it's not always deployed against what we would consider a race. That pattern is bio-essentialism–the belief that there are certain inherent and largely invariant differences between discrete groups of people. This, for example, explains the significant overlap between racism and transphobia, if not always in practice than in thought. If you believe these differences exist along racial lines, it's simple enough to map them onto sex as well. Bio-essentialism is not the only driving force behind racism, but it is a significant one, and one that can be reasonably used as a predictor of racist thought. In this sense, focusing on phenotypes common among Jews (prominent noses, dark curly hair, olive skin) can have a racial component, and can result in behaviors and attitudes that behave like racism, even if Jews aren't a "race".

So we have racial antisemitism, and from here we can sit around and postulate on other alchemical combinations; the intersection of antisemitism and sexism, for example, resulting in stereotypes about nagging Jewish wives, overbearing Jewish mothers, and the Jewish American Princess. The intersection of antisemitism and patriarchy, creating anxieties about weak or effeminate Jewish men. Antisemitism and classism; antisemitism and homophobia; antisemitism and anti-theism; and on and on. But what about anti-Jewish antisemitism? What do we find that makes people hate Jews for being Jews?

I'm going to lean fairly heavily on Anti-Judaism: The Western Tradition by intellectual historian David Nirenberg. It's a fantastic albeit excruciating read, and I highly recommend everyone–Jewish and not–pick it up from their local library.

Much like the habits of bio-essentialism characterize much of racism, obsession with blame is (I believe) the core driver of anti-Jewish antisemitism. Specifically blame of the other, although that's generally merely step two in the process. Jews occupy a fairly unique position in the world in that in the vast majority of places where we live we don't really belong. We're treated as guests, reliant on the grace and magnanimity of our hosts to ensure our protection and survival. Part of this is our own doing; throughout the Diaspora our struggle to cohere to our identity has set us apart from everyone else. We don't like to assimilate any more than we have to. But it would be wrong to place the blame for our status entirely on our shoulders, so I will not do so. For the purposes of this post let us take it prima facie that Jews maintain a role of perpetual outsiders–among the nations of the world but not of them.

Throughout history this status has allowed our hosts to define themselves in opposition to us. Jews, who never really belonged, became emblematic of whatever ill the current society, religion, or philosophy decided was most pressing. We gave people opportunity to externalize their own faults, to shift blame from themselves and their comrades to nefarious interlopers. To recontextualize their responsibility to themselves into a Manichaean (I use the word deliberately) struggle between darkness and light. If the anxieties of the day centered around hypocrisy, Jewish Rabbis were the hypocrites you should strive to be unlike. If it was infidelity, it was the Jewess temptresses who were to blame. If it was greed, it was certainly the Jewish bankers who were at fault.

Perhaps my use of past-tense verbs is misleading; this is still the nature of antisemitism today. But this is certainly also how it began. The urge to excise culpability is a fairly common one. It crosses cultural boundaries and expresses itself in toddlers the world around. And so whither the Jews went, childish vindictiveness followed.

When we understand how antisemitism is used as a tool, we can begin to understand the work it does for those who use it. Antisemitism is the antidote to critical thought, to skepticism and self-reflection. It creates a "them", not in reality but in the mind. It explains failure not through any self-conscious rumination, but in the creation of vagrants, infiltrators, and saboteurs.

It now becomes clear why nearly every conspiracy theory is antisemitic, or rapidly hurtling in that direction. One of the cornerstones of conspiratorial thought (as expounded by Michael Barkun in A Culture of Conspiracy: Apocalyptic Visions in Contemporary America) is the belief that the conspiracies are composed out outside forces. When neo-Nazis compose their "Every Aspect of _____ is Jewish" flyers, they can hardly focus on the fact that the vast majority of the people they blame are American. Americans are the in-group and as such cannot be at fault. Jews are an easily accessible out-group, in part because Jewishness is so "sneaky" (you can be Jewish and not even know it! Even Wikipedia can't seem to decide when someone is Jewish or not!). When people believe that the CIA was responsible for assassinating John F. Kennedy, it's never in their capacity as red-blooded patriotic Americans; it's always the result of insiders from Russia, China, and ultimately, Jews. Even conspiracy theories that don't explicitly name Jews are engaged in antisemitic thought, so long as they seek to pin events on the actions of "them". There's a reason "they" has become memetic in neo-Nazi circles; those who are "them" are most assuredly not "us".

It also becomes clear how and why antisemitism traverses political boundaries, and infects discourse left, right, and center. The extremes–the far-right and far-left (for all the usefulness of the political spectrum, which is not much)–are more prone to antisemitic thought precisely because they are so far from the norm. The more you see wrong with society the more you seek those who are responsible. (Again it's important to note that "antisemitic thought" in this context refers to the habit of looking for outsiders to blame, and does not always map perfectly onto open bigotry toward "real Jews".) When England is close to being a perfect country, it is only through the actions of the Jews that it is prevented from becoming so. When Sovyet communism begins to collapse in on itself, it is certainly the Jews who are accused. It is never "us" or "we"; it is always "they" and "them". And in a fit of cruel irony, when antisemitism becomes un-fashionable, the "no-true-scotsman" fallacy is often deployed, assigning the use of conspiratorial bigotry to impersonators and pretenders.

So what can we do? What can we learn, and how can we change? We can start by resolving to think critically, to not take the easy answers. We can look inward, not outward, and find things to improve in ourselves, rather than assuming that our faults are not our fault. We can be skeptical of conspiracy theories, of people who want to direct our anger in ways that serve their own goals. As always, we can protect and uplift Jews and Jewish communities worldwide. We can orient ourselves toward finding solutions, instead of finding reasons for why we can't. We can unlearn the thought patterns, cliches, and habits of antisemitic thought, or that lead to antisemitic thought. We can stop trying to look for the bad people, and start trying to be the good people.