#and like i decided to answer the last bit here in the tags heh.. hope ya don't mind

[shadowdianne]

Twenty questions for fic writers

(I guess I still am that xd let's see)

thank you for the tag love @waknatious

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Uhhh, this one will always be tricky lol; not every fic I ever wrote is on a03 as I did a lot of posting here that I considered too short to be posted back in a03 -i bothered y'all enough whenever I posted the fic batches there with those fics that were longer than... I think my inner rule was 1k?- so even if in reality I think the total sum between my two pseuds is close to 500 and something some of the old fics got deleted when i cleaned up shop and then there are more that are somewhat lost in here. So, let's just say that I have a ton of those visible on a03 and there's a bunch more that are, as my name suggests, in the shadows :P

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Again, tricky question xd But working with the numbers I currently can see and are visible for those that would want to check... 1,259,402 That doesn't sound right. heh *shrugs*

Edit: Ah, I think the reason why the number sounds weird is because the last time I did this question I still had like 15 or so I've ever since deleted. Plus some others so, again, the number is decieving.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

*Slight correction; wrote for* majority would be SQ as we know. Sprinkled with a little bit of SC, Shannara Chronicles, Rizzles... but the main ship and therefore fandom was SQ

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I've decided to not look into those stats xD Sorry. Last time i got this ask I did it and it only reinforced the little burn out gnome of how I wasn't good enough; my works were read and I was requested prompts long enough to know I was somewhat liked on some obscure basis but I never had that much luck on the kudos department. I believe that the fics at the time I last checked were SC, maaaybe Sabrina (?) -the one vaguely smutty pertaining Madame Zelda was uploaded there I believe(????) so it might have been that one, and some other one that wasn't about the main ship I wrote for. (the 100 one maybe?)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Back when I wrote and posted I did, yes. If at some point I missed a comment it might have been because I was swamped at the time with uni and work and I might have been far too focused on getting out the next prompt batch I was working on at the time but 99% of the time I responded to every single comment. I appreciate the feedback aspect of fandom, be that a reblog, share, comment or kudo or whatever other form and for those that commented, i hope you know that as much as I loved to tease you and generally torment you with my purple prose, i appreciated every second spent on leaving a comment.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

*snorts* I have a bunch. I don't remember all of them like I used to but I think that I liked the ones I did back when we were loving the concept of a Dark Swan and I kept on having both Emma and Regina battle each other in the middle of Storybrook. There are a couple in which I know I killed either Emma or Regina in a very fantastical way :P Oh, and then there's the one I did with... was it Emma? Dying at the hospital. One that was an answer to Del's prompt that I decided to focus on the whole concept of the hospital bed. I think that one, for a variety of reasons, is the angstiest in terms of how it was thought off and written.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uh. I honestly don't think I have a factual answer there; my fics were always written as sort of small windows into the worlds presented on them. As I never quite did long format fics there was never a real "true" ending there. Dunno, does anyone remember what would they consider a happy ending from me? xd

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did. Back when I wrote I always had a couple of trolls floating around on my tumblr inbox. I also had a couple more on the comment section but the main place was always tumblr. I sometimes shared the asks but I tended to erase the majority of them as soon as I saw them. The reason behind those asks is unfathomable to me but.... anyway xd I think i've written enough posts about how i felt about those lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

*snorts, again* I tend to focus on teasing. Or, I did. I think I will always prefer the concept of leaving as much as possible of the actual sexual act to the mind of the reader and just put the... frame of it if you will. I'e written pwp tho, small snippets here and there -and words of desire, that series in where i solely wrote a smutty scene based on the words I got sent- I enjoy the process of writing something that is about feelings and how can those be explored and heightened based on the scenario and situation but I always prefered, again, to be a tease about it xd

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

The only fic I've written that I think would constitute as a crossover would be the Lara Croft and Wonder Woman one. It was mostly a joke but I had fun with it. However, whereas I don't mind reading crossovers I always tended to stay away from them (Not AUs based on some other IPs tho, that's different xd). The main logic behind it was that I'm, first and foremost, worldbuild based so if I wanted to create a logical explanation for x, y, or z that alone would eat up a lot of the story itself. And I prided myself on being able to write stories under 2k or less soooooo....

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup! But some minor ones in some of those sites that the whole thing was scrapped, comments and all and you got notified through fb groups xd Considering I've been MIA for so long I doubt anything has gotte since.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I got asked a couple of times and gave my consent to one once but I think it never went anywhere,

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've collaborated with other fic writers ^^ (@stregaomega for example was and will always be the very fucking best) and it was awesome! But I tended to move more in the -I write one chapter and you do the next one and then I answer to that other one...- kind of scenario.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

SQ for writing I guess!

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I wrote the end of almost all of the fics that I left unfinished by the time I went byebye on the whole thing but then my fantastic burn out considered the -even today I think is quite valid- angle on how "it's been long enough since I started them so no one will want to read those." I scrapped almost all of them. I think I'll always get slightly sad about not finishing a bunch of the AU's tho. The Ministry of Hidden Stories series for example! I always loved a good Steampunk. And that other one in which Regina was basically Queen Mab. The name is eluding me. Drat. Well, that one. I had like 80 or something pages on the continuation of that one. But, *points at the beginning of this* welp.

16. What are your writing strengths?

(Also, thanks W for the acknowledgment there lol; I always wanted for the description to feel 'real' <3) As I always said; I don't think I had any. But it's true that I always enjoyed much more the in-between as W has said in her own answer there xd The descriptive moments, the movement of the character, the way they are behaving and the words they are not saying. I always found that dialogue was... harder to keep OC or to the point enough to be engaging but focusing on what one is saying and what another one is understanding based on the way they perceive the world was way much more interesting. Which resulted in loooong descriptive paragraphs lol.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

*sighs* Dialogues.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Uhm xd As someone that speaks more than two languages and has written stories in their mother tongue as well as a bunch on others.... I think I'm not entirely against doing it but I don't think it's that easy to convey a true relationship with being able to speak in more than one language. It's often used as a way of informing the reader -or in pwp bc, yknow, hot- but the linguistic side of my brain will always be at odds with that in some way xd I'm basically all for it but I think that there are ways in where it can be a little bit clunky; depending on how it's presented.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I always doubt between Bellice (Bella and Alice from Twilight) and some lost Glee fic. And there were some from Sailor Moon and Card Captor Sakura... I think that the very first one you can find under my pseud is a Bellice one tho so let's stick with that.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Not the best but I'll always pick Metallic Ink for that question. I really had fun with the worldbuilding there and will always hate that I run out of time to basically write more for it as it was a SuperNova fic.

--

It's far too late right now to do a proper tag so I'll leave this here and return tomorrow and tag anyone I find :P

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Find the Word/Manuscript Search Tag

Tagged by @setaflow (wait, wind, teeth, hope) and @fly-amanitaa (safe, breathe, regret, light) -- thank you both! This one looked like a lot of fun so I'm excited to give it a go! I'm using my three most recent WIPs -- the corpo AU longfic, and two PWPs that are based on prompts I received in April -- one will be the next in the Streetkid Val series, and one is post corpo AU longfic.

Results and tags after the cut bc it got long 😂

wait

This is from the corpo AU longfic, and the clear winner -- three times in three paragraphs lmao

[Mitch] steps into the apartment, again feeling out of place. He decides to take her up on the offer and orders a coffee from the vending machine, then pulls out a stool at the bar and waits. The quality of the coffee disappoints him—bitter and burnt—but then he’s been spoiled by camp coffee his whole adult life.

He glances around the penthouse as he waits. It looks the same as it did before, everything in perfect place. He wonders if she even lives here because the place feels sterile. He’s not sure he’s seen anything that looks remotely like her.

A set of matching suitcases wait by the elevator—four of them, matte black with shiny silver accents, two large and two smaller.

wind

This was an interesting one because of the homonyms, and I had "wind" as in twisting, but I was hoping for "wind" as air current, and I found one in the corpo longfic!

Her eyes crinkle as the smile returns and his breath quickens, and as an excuse to look away he digs his cigarettes from his pockets. He leans back on the couch and exhales smoke at the tent ceiling. She makes no moves to fill the silence and he’s thankful. They’ve sat in silence plenty on her visits to camp, and he always finds it welcome; hardly a moment’s peace around camp, and he appreciates the break from chatter. 

His chest aches as his thoughts turn to the first time they sat like this, when she stayed behind on the bridge despite his wishes to the contrary. He’d wanted solitude for his sorrow, but then she grabbed a chair and sat there beside him, nothing between them but the tinkle of glass and slosh of beer and the wind.

teeth

Ohhh it was hard to pick one because, yeah... but I was good 😏 Also from the corpo longfic

“If that’s what it takes to get you in a suit,” she says and gives him another full smile. 

His stomach twists and his cheeks warm and he looks away. He’d thought he was over that little crush he’d developed after Scorp died, but after the last half hour he’s no longer sure. Suddenly spending a month with her in a hotel room seems like a questionable decision.

“Uh, something I should probably ask first. We’ll have two beds, right?”

“What, you don’t wanna snuggle? I’m a good snuggler,” she says, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she grins at him. Cheeks burning hotter, he shakes his head and scoffs though he can’t stop his mouth from curving up. “Yes, we’ll have two beds. Already talked to my contact about some of the detes and a two bedroom suite is a firm requirement for me taking the contract.”

hope

...and another from the corpo longfic.

The boxing match quiets and the chair wheels squeak as Vik rolls over on it. “How ya feeling, kid?”

Mitch guffaws. “Kid? Been a minute since anyone called me that. Don’t think you have that many years on me.”

Vik laughs, a rich sound that fills the room. “Know I do, Mitch. You forget, I got your medical records right here. Had hair on my balls before you were born.”

“Heh, hope to look as good at your age,” he answers without thinking. Vik blushes, and Mitch does too, and he quickly changes the subject. “’m feeling okay, just a bit of a headache, some nausea.”

safe

Heyyyy from something else! This is from the "rough or gentle" prompt which ofc turned into something angsty bc that's just how things are with Streetkid Val 😬

“C’mon, city girl. Not gonna kill you.”

Normally when he calls her “city girl” she loves it; beyond just another term of affection, something about the way he says it makes her tremble. But this time, it feels like an insult rather than affection so she scowls and crosses her arms.

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s from deep underground, away from any ground pollution. Had a well on the farm; grew up drinking the stuff. Promise it’s safe. ’Sides, they test it regularly.”

breathe

Another from corpo longfic. I promise I'm searching the others first lol this one just has a higher chance since it's 30-120x the words of the other two lmao

She nods again, then jerks her chin at him. “Can I get one of those?”

“’Course.”

He pulls out the pack and taps one out for her to take. Just as he reaches out with the lighter intent on passing it to her, she leans forward, cigarette between her fingers and poised at her ruby lips, and her emerald eyes flick to his. He works on autopilot, leaning forward with the lighter, cupping the flame with his silicone fingers and he forgets to breathe when her fingers linger on his. She flicks her eyes back up to him once more and the air whooshes out of his lungs as if he’s been hit by a freight train, or jumped into the farm pond on a sunny March day.

regret

Yep, another one that only showed up in the longfic...

The door to the backroom slides open at her approach. Nix’s office is dark, but he doesn’t usually show until afternoon anyway. Once inside the quiet of her office, she drops into the chair with a heavy sigh. She tabs through pages of email but nothing catches her interest. She leans back in her chair, puffing her cheeks as she blows out a long breath. She drags her eyes down from the ceiling, landing on Scorpion’s action figure.

In a flash she’s standing, figure in hand, breath tight in her chest. She wants to crush it, destroy it and the memories of the last few weeks, but she knows she will regret it—not today, today she would feel relief but one day when her feelings have settled she will think back to that day on the bridge and feel sorrow at having destroyed the memento of lost friendship, no matter what passed since. Instead of throwing it in the incinerator she shoves it in a drawer, hidden behind decades worth of paperwork she’s never read.

light

...and why not wrap things up with one more from the longfic lol

The cool air feels delicious on his face, flushed as it is from the alcohol and her incessant flirting. The attention makes him feel a decade younger, at least. He pulls away from her to light a cigarette and offers the pack. When she accepts he holds out the lighter and holds his breath, hoping for an errant touch of her hand. She obliges, holding the cigarette in her right hand and placing the left on the skin of his wrist as she leans in. Her eyes flicker up to his, and her fingers linger a fraction of a second too long and his skin tingles. Suddenly he remembers the cartoons he used to watch with his mom, how the tricked coyote would speed off the cliff without realizing it, and only after looking down would gravity take hold, leaving the coyote to plummet to the ground far below.

Tagging with zero pressure/sorry if you got tagged already... @impishbiscuit @schoute @oranzuwu @elvenbeard @chessalein @morganlefaye79 @theviridianbunny @corphoe and anyone else sees this and wants to play (and tag me if you do!!) I give you the words:

alarm, calm, hold, water

[plugnuts]

AAa! Shooting another ask to respond to your response and-- Gosh you're so amazing you have no idea how much it made my day to read that like you say such nice wonderful things in the actual response and then you turn around and just perfect things even more with the TAGS-- Just- Thank you so much for every word you have ever said to me I have been hugging myself in pure joy for the past few minutes just writing this ahah! (By the way if you wanna talk in a manner easier for you then go ahead!)

AAAH I feel so bad for getting to this so late I’m so sorry!

Dude no, seriously YOU’RE awesome! It makes me feel so happy to know that people read my tags and knowing that it’s made you happy in return is even better! Honestly, I am writing this out with a huge smile on my face and when I first read it in bed I was rolling around in joy like dude thank you for coming back with another ask you are amazing :D

You’re welcome though!! Again I am SO sorry for getting to this late, I was not ignoring you I promise c:

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 4

Summary:

Alex tries to get Woods to open up on why he's been acting so... odd lately, and Woods proves himself to be emotionally intelligent and self aware

Tags: Slow burn, fluff

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 5 |Warnings: strong except language and some age difference, in case you don't like that

BAM BAM BAM

Mason fires off three shots in rapid succession, all of them hit a perfect headshot on the paper dummy. He whoops in disbelief, removing his earmuffs to brag to Woods.

“Damn, did you fucking see that?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, good shit Mason”, Frank agrees, yet he seems distracted.

Alex sneaks a glance at Frank’s shooting dummy to see it’s barely been touched. He looks back over at his friend. The Sargent smiles as though lost in a daydream, thoroughly cleaning and absentmindedly inspecting his gun over and over again. Mason cocks his head and waves a hand in front of Woods’ face.

“Hellooo”, he calls teasingly, “What’s the matter with you, huh?”

Frank blinks hard, giving his head a little shake, “Huh? The fuck are you talking about, I’m fine”, he blows off the question and readies his pistol down the firing lane, as though he were just taking a little break all along.

“Alright, that’s enough”, Alex puts his pistol down forcefully, adding his earmuffs to boot. “You wanna know something Frank? The real reason I brought you out here was because I was hoping you would open up, damn it! Look, you’ve been acting… not yourself. Ah! Let me finish! Anyway…”, Mason comes a little closer, taking on a more personal, concerned tone, “I’m worried about you man. I mean, we’ve known each other for how fucking long? Whatever it is, you can tell me, and I know you know that, so… What the fuck is holding you up?”

Frank spares a glance to the friendly hand resting on his shoulder, then back to the concerned eyes of his closest, and perhaps even only, friend. He shrugs Mason’s hand away, “It’s nothing man, come on”

“Oh, but it is something then?”, Alex takes on an accusatory tone that makes Frank bristle.

“I said, it’s fucking nothing”

“Frank!”

“What!”, Woods slams down his own firearm, turning his full attention to the conversation, “Why the hell do you need to know so badly anyway? I said it’s nothing, end of story! If anything, it’s fucking… stupid, so just drop it alright!”

“I care because I care about you, you bastard!”, Mason gestures aggressively to accentuate his point, but gives up soon after with a frustrated sigh.

But... Woods feels for his friend, and he appreciates the effort. Really, he does. It’s not often he has someone check in to see how he’s doing. Or… at all, really. He huffs a sigh and throws a look Alex’s way. Damn it…

“Fine. It’s about a girl, alright? You happy now?”, he looks away quickly, snatching up his firearm as though to get back to the target practice. Unfortunately, Alex has other plans.

He reaches across the divider and lowers Franks pistol from the shooting position, wearing a grin somewhere between bewildered and teasing. “Are you fucking serious? All this, for a girl?”

Woods immediately gets defensive, “Hey, fuck you! I-”

“Jesus Frank, calm down, will ya? I’m just… Well, surprised, I guess!”, he laughs, but in the disarming, good natured way that he’s so inclined towards. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, who is it? She must mean a lot to you to have you this bent out of shape, haha”

Frank thinks a moment, wondering if he should really give himself up like this… But then, he’s already in this deep, right?

“It’s… The secretary from the CIA headquarters…”, his voice is so low, it's more a dampened mumble than anything else.

Mason freezes, trying to decide if he heard him right.

“Frank… You can’t be serious.”, he leans in once more, taking on a now concerned, hushed tone, “I- Come on man, she’s just a kid. D-don’t you want a woman with a little more… experience, at least? I mean-”

Frank recoils at that, “Woah woah woah, what the fuck? Who the fuck said anything about that shit? It’s not like that!”

“Well ok, maybe life experience then! I don’t fucking know!”

“Look, will you stop trying to make me feel like shit?” What, you think I don’t already know all this? That I haven’t told myself about it a million fucking times!” Woods takes another breath, ready to spit out the rest of his speech. Instead, he uses it to steady himself, and calm down.

Come on… It’s just Alex.

“Damn it… Ok, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t think about her like that, ok? I-”, his voice drops to just above a whisper, his mouth working nervously, as though he’s afraid to admit what he has to say next. “I’m just so... lonely, damn it. I wish… I wish, I had someone like that around for just... company's sake, I guess? Someone who’s… sweet, and… gives a shit about me…. You know?”

Mason looks down, his face set in a look of sympathy, thinking back to his own happy life complete with his wife and son back home. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard this much emotion in Frank’s voice. “Yeah… I know…”

“Heh, but who gives a fuck. I mean, there’s no way she’d go for me, right?”, he huffs a humorless laugh. Frank goes silent for a long moment. It doesn't take his closest friend to see that everything he’s admitted to today weighs more heavily on him then one would even realize.

But suddenly, the despondency is broken. As though regretful to have been so vulnerable, he covers it up the Woods way, “Hey. If you fucking tell anyone I said this shit, I’ll fucking kill you”

He and Alex lock eyes, one with an unsure look of fear and the other one of dire seriousness. But, after he’s had his fun, Frank’s stern expression melts into a joking laugh. He gives Alex’s shoulder a playful shove, “Aw come on, I’m just messing with you! Let’s get back to the range, huh?”

Woods readies his shooting equipment again, and just before he puts on the earmuffs…

“Hey, Frank? ...Your secret is safe with me”, Alex smiles, earning a subtle one back from his friend.

“Heh, fucking softie…”

“You know what? Maybe... you could try talking to her, you know? I don’t really get it but… No harm in trying, right?”

Frank considers the advice. He’s serious, isn’t he? Well…

“Yeah, maybe…”

---

Frank looks at the double glass doors of the CIA offices, checking over his reflection one last time. He’s decided to take Mason’s advice… Today’s the day. He’s just going to go find you, try to not come off as a psycho again, and maybe ask you out to uh… coffee? Yeah, that’s what most people do, he thinks.

Last night, he ransacked his closet for this outfit. And wouldn’t you know it? Way, way back under the piles of shit, he found a nice, light grey dress shirt and some mostly polished leather shoes to go along with his good old jeans. Is this... ‘business casual’ or whatever the fuck? Hell if he knows, but he assures himself that it’s the effort that counts. He straightens the collar and smooths down the front, doing his best to ignore the way it hugs his abdomen just a bit too much for his liking.

He licks his thumb and swipes it once over each eyebrow, making sure to admire all the work he put in this morning. If anyone else saw him now, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t recognize him. Gone is the wild, fluffy mess of black hair, and instead he’s managed to slick it down into a respectable, controlled style. He even brushed and shaped up his beard, for Christ’s sake.

Well, no more fucking around, he supposes.

Frank takes a deep breath and pushes through the double doors. He wanders through the public section, then badges himself into the back offices. Now if he remembers correctly, he ran into you right about… down that way. Unfortunately, he only knows you by first name, thanks to that coffee shop place.

It’s a name that’s been playing back in his mind over and over again ever since that morning.

He’d never admit to it, but perhaps… only once or twice, he’s tested the way it sounds aloud. Just to hear it again. He knows he’s getting way too ahead of himself, but you know, if this were to ever work out… maybe another tattoo is in order. He brushes a hand absentmindedly over his left pec where even now his heart hammers away nervously.

It would be a fitting spot for the name of his girl…

A slow brigade of names on silver, engraved plates passes him by, until finally… There.

Your door is closed, but the sound of furiously fast typing tells him you’re in. He raises a hand to knock… Or, wait. Should he knock? Is that weird? Maybe he should just… come in? No no, that’s freaky as fuck… Right?

His thoughts are interrupted by the harsh ringing of your desk phone, which is silenced promptly as you answer. Damn it, now that he thinks about it, what should he even say? Fuck… he should’ve brought flowers or something, shouldn’t he? Fuck fuck fuck! He knew it, this was never going to work. Maybe he should just lea-

Suddenly, your door swings open. You shriek in surprise at finding another human being just on the other side, clapping a hand to your mouth as you correct yourself, only now realizing who it is. “Oh! Sarge- Um, Frank… I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you!”, you laugh, trying to break the tension that doesn't even exist.

No, right now, all he’s focused on is you...

The sound of your laughter washes over him, and once again he’s reminded of that warm, dream like summer breeze he felt with you not so long ago, back at the coffee shop. It almost makes him wish you would laugh at him more often… Just so he could hear that sweet, sweet sound. Today you’re wearing a pink pleated skirt and a tastefully ruffled blouse. Everything, from your shoes to the little touch of makeup, matches perfectly.

You look very… cute.

There’s a word he never thought he’d say….

Frank mutters something placating to reassure you that no harm’s been done, but it’s all he can do to stay upright. His face feels inordinarily warm, and he can actually feel his heart beating, no, racing, without even touching it. HE's almost sure he’s dying, and to make matters worse, he can’t recall ever having been made to feel this way before.

So, what the fuck is happening to him?

-------

(Uh oh, cliff hanger! Luckily, the next half is up!)

[sunsinrinn]

Secrets Part 11.

Bakugo x reader, Bakugo x Uraraka, Kirishima x Reader

Fluff- ish, language, angst

Word Count: 1,177

Idea: Y/n has a secret to share with bakugo not expecting a secret from him. She leaves heart broken and attempts to move on. But how will she move on if her secret can no longer be hidden? She fakes a relationship hoping its enough to not expose the true origin of the secret. (This is a terrible summary but I cant say much without spoiling future parts. 🙃)

Bakugo rushes to the Hospital and somehow manages to carry you in while you are still crying in pain. He yells for nurses to help and nurses come rushing to your aid

“Sir, what happened?”

“She’s going into labor! But she’s early”

“Okay sir, sit her down on the wheel chair and we will take her to a room where she can began labor.” Bakugo is hesitant to let you go alone but finally sets you down when you yell in pain, “BAKUGO SO HELP ME GOD, IF YOU DON’T SIT ME DOWN I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU” ‘You’re scary rn’ he thinks and follows the nurse as you’re being taken away. Not long after they have you situated and ready for labor, Kirishima bursts through the door glaring at Bakugo, “YOU! I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOUR ASS-“

“NOT MY FAULT KIRISHIMA I JUST WANTED THE TRUTH.”

“Excuse me gentlemen, if you guys cannot shut up, I will have to kick you both out until Ms. L/N is finished giving birth.” The nurse glares at both of the men. Kirishima looks down, “I’m sorry ma’am.” And walks over to you. You are just attempting to keep calm but feel a contraction, “AHH”

*okay, we are skipping the birth part bc I’m not good at this :P hehe*

“It’s a beautiful and healthy girl! Congratulations Ms. L/N, what would you like to name her?”

“Um.. I’m not completely sure yet. I’d like to talk about it with my partners.”

You look over at Kirishima, and see he is tearing up at the sight of your baby and then you glance at Bakugo, who was sobbing at how beautiful she was.

The nurse nods and leaves you alone with the knuckleheads. “So, what are we naming her?” You ask both of them. But they ignore you as they watch as your baby was being taken away to get properly cleaned up. You roll your eyes and ask again, “What are we naming our baby girl, Dumbasses?” They look at you and Bakugo answers, “Ours?”

“Speaking of that...” Kirishima says right before he smacks Bakugo upside the head, “YOU EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN BAKUGO I WILL PERSONALLY MURDER YOUR ASS. GOT IT” Bakugo nods quickly scared at how Kirishima suddenly became scary-like. “Good, now my angel, what do YOU want to call our kid?”

You think about it for a second, “What about, Nao?”

They both nod and agree with the name. Bakugo stays quiet for a second before speaking up, “What about her last name?”

You and Kirishima stay quiet thinking about it. Bakugo speaks up again, “I understand if you dont want her with my last name...”

“Its- its not that, we were actually thinking of hyphenating both of yours and Eijirou’s last names...” you respond quietly. Bakugo smiles, “That’s a good idea.”

You smile at that, “Bakugo... There’s something we want to talk to you about-“ Kirishima widens his eyes and shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?” Bakugo says confused.

You clear your throat, “um... so... Kirishima and I were talking...”

Bakugo glances at Kirishima and Kirishima pretends to read the wash your hands flyer on the wall,

“Go on Y/N.” Bakugo says impatiently but before you respond the nurse walks in with your baby in tow, “Finally decided on the name, dearie?” You nod.

“Yes Ms., We want to call her Bakugo-Kirishima Nao.”

The nurse hums, “Ah, Nao means honesty such a pretty name.” You nod and think of the irony behind the name. “And two last names? Well that is not common.” You smile and shrug,

“We couldn’t choose a last name so we did both” the nurse nods, “Well, we will have that set up and here is your baby again.” She picks up the baby and hands her to you,

“She might be hungry so you should probably try and feed her.” With that the nurse leaves the four of you alone. You hold your baby close and smile at her. Kirishima and Bakugo crowd you as they try and fight over who gets to carry her first.

“Move out the Shitty Hair, I’m the father I should go first.”

“A dead-beat father, I should carry her first”

“I AM NOT A DEAD-BEAT FATHER, ESPECIALLY IF IM RIGHT HERE!”

You glare at both of them for scaring Nao but notice she did not even flinch at his voice. ‘Wow, used to his voice already.’

“None, of you are carrying her until Nao finishes eating” and with that both men pout like babies and sit down as you begin to feed her.

After a minute of silence, Bakugo speaks up remembering you had to talk.

“Oh yeah, Y/N, you said you needed to tell me something?”

You and Kirishima tense up. ‘Well damn.’

“Oh yeah.... heh, so, uh, its about us.”

“What about us?” Bakugo asks hopefully.

“So me and Kirishima... talked... about how you will fit into our lives now that you know...”

“Do... do you not want me near the baby?” He asks sadly.

“WHAT- no no no... its more about how me and Kirishima- Kiri-baby, why don’t you explain?” You ask him

Kirishima sends you a glare before clearing his throat.

“Bakugo, what she was trying to poorly explain is that- I cant fucking do it babes,”

“Just fucking tell me already.”

“Alright alright Bakugo. Meandy/narelikeinlovewithyoubutwedidntknowhowtosay”

“What the hell did you say Kirishima?”

Kirishima sighs, “Look bakugo, Y/N still has feelings for you. And I have feelings for you to. We are willing to let you be part of our family.”

Bakugo stares in shock unable to say anything.

You and Kirishima look at each other nervously.

“Is this a sick fucking joke?” Bakugo asks angrily.

You flinch, “No... We are being serious. We both like you.”

“YOU BOTH NEED TO STOP FUCKING PLAYING WITH MY EMOTIONS.” He says almost tearing up.

“We are not Bakugo. We are serious. But we have a condition.”

Bakugo sniffs, “You guys love me? Like even after what I did?”

“Bakugo, we know you didn’t mean to but you did hurt me. Uraraka was to blame here... overall we want to give you a second chance.”

“What’s-what’s the condition if I accept.”

“It’s not a hard one. There are only two things you need to do, go to therapy and anger management classes.”

“Thats all?” He asks nervously.

“Yes Bakugo. That’s all.”

“This isn’t a sick joke right?”

“No Bakugo, we are serious.” Kirishima responds for you.

He sheds a tear, “I- I can’t thank you both enough for giving me a chance... I swear to go to therapy, and that class, and thank you for letting me be in my daughter’s life. Thank you so much.” He reaches over to hug Kirishima and lets out a sob. Kirishima pats his back and smiles at you. You smile back and hold Nao tighter as she finishes eating. “You are lucky to have two loving parents little one.” You whisper to her.

Suddenly Kirishima’s phone rings, he looks down and pales, “It’s Mina.”

“Ah crap.”

SERIES MASTERLIST — Part 12

A/N: an update??? Jeez, sorry about not updating sooner but I got distracted :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! It seems a bit rushed but lmaoo. Anyways Bakugo didn’t get killed yet.

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts or future works dont hesitate to dm, ask, or comment! I hope you guys had a lovely day today! Also if you asked to be tagged and I didnt tag you send me a dm so I can fix it :) also any tags in italics and bold, I couldn’t tag you :/ I’m sorry </3 but I’ll work on it <3

Secrets Taglist: @hero-ink-pillar , @silentw-lkr , @ushiwakatrash , @purple-rabanito , @chaelysian , @puppycat714 , @fake-id-69 , @adaydreaminganon , @jessie9008 , @sam-i-am-1025 , @purple--nebula , @curiouslilbeast , @httpswwwtbhkcom , @setup-the-ace , @chanultis , @kit-kat428 , @thatonefangirl722 , @fxirylightsx , @katsuki-bakubae , @sakurakatsuki , @whatishappinesswhatislove , @wannabedaphne , @casey0407

[shadow-assassin-blix]

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

Chapter 9

A/N: Okay. Some slight drama. Canon typical violence. Slightly nsfw-ish in that there's some fingering.

(Noticed far too late that half of it didnt transfer over, fixed that)

Diego and Blix do some much needed bonding.

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Pacho tag: @yungkvte

They laid there a few minutes more, simply enjoying one another’s presence, before with a small groan, Blix sat up.

She quietly stretched, turning her neck side to side, grunting at the small pops and cracks her neck made. Pacho straightened up next to her pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Gilberto said he found you in my office last night? Doing homework as he claims,” Pacho teased as he brushed her back behind her hair.

“Just… trying to understand your world. Gotta say… it’s far more complicated than I thought it was,” Blix lightly noted as she turned to look at him.

“It’s not all crazy parties and getting high. It’s a lot of work to be one of the best cartels in the world,” Pacho said with a smirk.

Blix hummed in response, pushing off the covers, as both of them got up. Blix quietly got dressed, throwing on some shorts and a tank top. She finished getting ready, as Pacho waited, looking at all the things she had unboxed the day before. He stared at the items curiously.

“Your mother had very strange tastes,” He muttered quietly as he picked up the mace.

“Indeed, she did,” Blix stated as she walked up to him, ready for the day.

Pacho turned to look at her, “Not planning on using any of these on me, are you?”

“Hmm. Don’t know. Depends on whether you’re a good boy or not. Don’t test my wrath,” She said with a teasing smile as she walked past him, toward the hallway.

Pacho shook his head with a smile, before following after her.

They made their way downstairs, joining the others for lunch.

She got about halfway through her meal before she remembered she had to make some phone calls. She got up and called Theo to see where he had gotten on the warehouse that they believed was König’s.  

“Hey, so there is a lot of activity going on in a warehouse that’s allegedly abandoned. We’ve been monitoring it from a safe distance, and we’ve seen a lot of armed guards patrolling. We’ve seen König wandering the property, but we have yet to see anything damning,” Theo reported, a small yawn escaping him as he finished.

“Good to know. Keep watch for now, we’ll catch him soon enough. Has there been any other robberies I should be made aware of?” She questioned as she paced around the living room.

“None so far. Not sure if that’s good or bad. But I’ll keep you posted,” Theo answered.

“Yeah. Hm. He’ll mess up soon enough and we will be there when it happens. Talk to you later,” Blix ended the call with a small sigh.

She ran her hand over chin, in contemplation. She had slowly wandered down a hallway away from everyone and was near a door that was slightly ajar. She looked inside and saw something that made her smile. She pushed the door further open and saw books lining several shelves and cases.

As she examined the books, she realized they were the books that her sisters sent her from their mother’s home. She ran her fingertip down the spines of several, quietly remembering each story. Several were antiques of the classics and others were miscellaneous. She walked further in and noticed there was an area full of throw pillows and soft cushions surrounding a window nook.

The window, she noted, looked out over the grounds, and it was slightly breathtaking.

She sat on the seat, gazing out.

“See you found your library. Pacho will be sad that you found this before he could show you,” Diego’s voice came from behind her.

“I’ll act surprised when he shows me. He set this all up just for me? Why?” She asked looking around from her seat.

“Isn’t it obvious by now? He cares for you. Loves you even. Just like he does me,” Diego responded as he joined her.

“Are you okay with that though? Sharing him? I know we never actually really sat down and talked this out,” She mentioned as she made room for him to join her.

“I’ll admit in the beginning, I wasn’t thrilled by you,” Diego began.

“’Wasn’t thrilled?’ You tormented me for days!” Blix exclaimed shoving him lightly.

“Okay. I was an ass. The point is, I see now, you are not just some fling of his. You make him happy in ways that I cannot. Just like I make him happy in ways you can’t. He wants both of us. We are not fighting for his attention. He wants us, we want him. That’s that. Plus, he’s allowing you to see the inner workings of the cartel; information that is usually pretty heavily guarded. If he trusts you with that, then I can trust you with him,” Diego explained, taking her hands into his.

Blix nodded once in response, with a small smile.

“So… is he going to be busy with the brothers today?” She inquired after a moment.

“Probably, why?”  Diego asked looking at her curiously.

“Well. One, I promised Phobos I would take him out for a ride today. Two, I just thought me, and you can hang out. Get to know one another. If you ‘re cool with it,” She proposed.

“How about tomorrow? I have somethings I need to do this afternoon, but tomorrow I am pretty much free. We could run around town if you’d like?” Diego countered.

“Sounds good to me. Now, gotta harass someone in to taking me to the ranch,” Blix muttered thinking of who to choose.

“Or… I’ll drop you off on my way out. Gotta head out anyway,” Diego offered.

“Ooh. Yes. Lemme go put on boots,” Blix said excitedly, getting up.

She rushed upstairs to get her socks and some boots. She hopped on one foot each, as she threw them on. She ran downstairs, meeting up with Diego; they hopped into his car, driving off.

In no time, he had dropped her off. She walked over to Phobos’ stall, grabbing a brush on her way to him. She pulled him out of his stall, taking him to a small post to tie him to. She began to give him a thorough brushing, quietly talking to him.

Once he was brushed, she saddled him up and began to trot around with him. She walked around with him, letting him get used to her. They spent a good 2 hours wandering the grounds before returning to the stables.

Navegante was waiting for her when she got back with Phobos. She got him settled back into his stall and stretched for a moment before joining Navegante. He took her back to Pacho’s home, dropping her off before disappearing himself.

She walked inside and was told by some guards that Pacho and the brothers had left; Pacho should be back by tonight though.

She decided to just continue her reading upstairs in his office. She spent a few hours doing that, when a guard informed her dinner was ready if she was. She got up and made her way downstairs, after securing the files she had pulled out. She took the plate of food, eating at the table, somewhat watching the soccer game that was playing on the television.

She had just finished eating, when there was a knock at the door.

“What the hell?” She whispered as she got up.

She grabbed a gun that was hidden in a drawer, walking toward the door. She opened it cautiously, gun tucked behind her back.

She stared at the man before her. She had never seen him before, but noticed he looked somewhat familiar.

“Hello? Can I help you?” She questioned him.

“So, you’re the woman my boy is in love with? Seems he’s finally becoming a man,” Came a deep, gravelly voice.

It was then she realized why he looked familiar. He looked a bit like an older Pacho, but with Alvaro’s curls.

“Mr. Herrera. What brings you here?” She asked him dully, immediately annoyed by his presence.

“Wanted to speak to him. Found you instead. You’re much prettier to look at then he is,” He announced pushing his way inside.

“Yes. Please come in,” She muttered annoyed.

She quietly grabbed her phone, discreetly calling Pacho, hoping he picked up. She set the phone down on the counter, watching her intruder look around the living room.

She took a breath of relief when she saw that the phone had connected.

“Mr. Herrera. I don’t know why you are here, but you need to go. Pacho is not here, nor is Alvaro. You are not welcomed. So, either get out, or I’ll make you leave,” She warned him loudly, trying to gain his attention.

“Please. You’re not going to do anything. So, what is it about you that you turned my son back to a normal man?” He asked with a snarl as he turned to her.

“Normal? Oh no. He is still very much gay. He just enjoys my company. Get. Out.” She replied coldly, as she pulled the gun out.

He chuckled, somewhat darkly, “Are you really going to shoot me? I don’t think you have it in you, wench.”

She narrowed her eyes in response, aiming the gun to a spot near his head. She took one shot, the bullet grazing his ear at it embedded itself in the wall behind him. He groaned loudly, touching his ear gingerly.

“Next one, will go between your eyes. Now get out. Leave me alone. Leave Pacho and Alvaro alone. Neither of them wants anything to do you with. You come near them again, and I will bury you so deep into the ground that the Earth’s core will incinerate your corpse,” She promised him, motioning with the gun for him to walk out the door.

“Such loyalty to a man who will only break your heart. Tell me, whatever did he promise you to receive such protectiveness?” He asked as he slowly moved to the door, his eyes fixated on the gun.

“Heh. He’s not the first man to ever break my heart, doubt he’ll be the last. Why does everyone think he bought me? Bought my loyalty? It’s truly starting to vex me. I’m a simple woman Mr. Herrera. Offering simple human decency is enough. Now get out of my home. I truly hate cleaning up blood,” She growled as she stepped forward.

She watched as he ran out, to his car, and made sure he drove off before closing and locking the door. She moved over to the phone, picking it up.

“Pacho. You there?” She asked her voice cracking slightly.

“Yes. I’m here. I’m almost home honey. Is he still there?” He inquired, his own voice shaking.

“No. He’s gone. Ya know… I expected your dad to be a piece of work, but I never thought that I would want to immediately strangle him once he started talking,” She tried to joke, but in all honesty, she was a bit freaked out.

She hears him snort before replying, “Yeah. He’s… something.”

“How… how far away are you?” She asked in a whisper.

“5 minutes. Tops. Salcedo has already… detained… my father who we passed by on our way in. He won’t be bothering you anymore,” Pacho firmly stated.

“I’ll see you in a few then?” She confirmed as she took a seat on the couch.

“Yes. I’ll see you in a moment,” Pacho tells her.

She slowly hung up, waiting on the couch for him. In a minute, the room was filled with guards and Pacho.

Pacho walked over to her, his eyes roaming over her, as he checked her.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Pacho questioned as he looked her over.

“No. I’m okay. He just… unnerved me a bit,” She answered him.

Diego popped up next to them, whispering something in Pacho’s ear. Pacho simply nodded in response, his eyes never leaving hers.

The whole house was buzzing about with tension; several people were trying to figure out where the hell the guards were that was supposed to be there. Why was he able to come on the grounds?

Blix was tired of everyone fussing over her, 10 minutes had passed and everyone and their mom it felt, had come to ask her if she was okay. She stood up, and made her way upstairs, away from everyone and their concern.

She hid in her room, keeping the door locked. She went to bed, but it was a fitful sleep. When she finally woke up the next day, she felt exhausted as she sat up. She quietly got ready for the day, hoping a shower would wake her up, and wash away the funk she felt. She walked into her closet trying to decide what to wear, when she heard a rumble of thunder, followed by the sound of rain.

“Guess that answers that,” She mumbled to herself as she grabbed jeans, a shirt, and some boots.

She quietly got ready, unlocking her door, as soon as she was dressed. She strolled downstairs, smiling smally at the sight of Diego, who was leaning against the back of the couch, waiting.

“Hey. Ready to get out of here for a bit?” Diego asked her when he sees her.

She nodded, looking around. She spied Pacho in the kitchen, she slowly walked over to him. He was finishing up a phone call, when he spotted her. Once he hung up, he made his way to her.

“I’m sorry for just… leaving the room last night. Not used to that many people fussing over me. It was a bit overwhelming,” She whispered as he stood before her.

“It’s okay beautiful. I’m just glad you are okay. My father… he won’t be bothering us ever again. I’m sorry you had to deal with him by yourself. He should have never been able to get to the house,” Pacho said pulling her into his arms.

She hugged him back with a sigh.

“I hear you and Diego are spending the day together?” Pacho mentioned with a curious look.

“Yeah. I mean… we both care about you. May as well get along right? So, we are going to go get to know another,” Blix explained scratching the back of her neck.

“I like that you two are spending time together. Though now you two will conspire against me I feel. But I’ll deal with that later,” Pacho teased as he walked her back into the living room.

She chuckled at that, grabbing a jacket and an umbrella that was offered to her, as her and Diego made their way out to his car.

“Alright. Where we going first?” Blix asked as they started to drive.

“Figured we could go grab a bite to eat to go, followed by either some shopping or we could go to a museum?” Diego listed out as he fiddled with the radio for a moment.

“Food yes. Shopping maybe. Museum. Hmm. I’d be down for that. Be nice to go to museum that I don’t have to investigate,” Blix replied nodding her head to the music that was now blasting from the radio.

Livin on a Prayer by Bon Jovi was playing, and she began to rock out to it. Diego laughed for a moment before joining her.

When they got into downtown Cali, they picked up some muffins and hot teas to drink. They ate as they drove to a nearby museum. They parked, dashing inside the museum trying to avoid the rain as much as possible. They strolled around the museum, talking about each piece that caught their interests. Diego was apparently quite a history buff.

Blix looked at him with a soft smile.

“What? What’s with that look?” Diego questioned as they were finishing up their walk around.

“Nothing. It’s… it’s nice talking to someone who knows what I’m talking about without… having to explain 30 other events and situations. It’s honestly nice, having someone else explain new facts to me,” She explained with a shrug.

“Clearly, you haven’t dated the right men. Pacho especially loves art, ask him to take you to an auction sometime. He’d loved that,” Diego joked, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“Hm. Loves art eh? Is that why he bought a Caravaggio without verifying it was real?” Blix snorted as they walked into the gift shop.

Diego choked on a laugh, “Oof. Well. First off, Miguel bought that and gifted it to Pacho. Pacho only kept it up because it was a gift. He hated it otherwise.”

“Good to know. So, where should we go after this?” Blix asked staring at some trinkets.

“Don’t know. Where do you like to shop?” Diego asked picking up a glass figurine, staring at it before putting it back down.

She bit her lip at the thought that came to mind.

“Ever been thrift store shopping?” She inquired, with a raised eyebrow.

Diego looked at her surprised, “Noo. You… you like thrift stores?”

“Yeah? Duh. Do I look like the kind of person who likes to shop at fancy-schmancy places?” Blix countered gesturing to her outfit.

“Soulmate. That’s what you are. Let’s go!” He excitedly said dragging her out to the car.

The two of them spent the next several hours, going to various thrift shops, trying on outfits and being goofy. The two of them both bought several things from each shop, items varying from outfits to accessories.

When they had their fill of shopping, they grabbed a bite to eat, parked on the side of the road, munching away happily.

“I don’t ask this to annoy you, but are you okay after last night? I’ve had the displeasure of meeting their father as well. It’s…” He trailed off making a face.

“Yeah. I’m okay. It was just unnerving how much he and Pacho looked a like,” Blix noted with a small shudder.

“Same. Took me a while to separate that what he said, did not come from Pacho himself. This is the third time he’s appeared out of nowhere and it’ll be the last. You can always talk to me about it. Pacho… he knows how terrible his father is but doesn’t quite understand why it’s hard to get over the things his father says,” Diego commented.

Blix nodded with a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

The two of them finished their meal, tossing the remains into a nearby public trashcan. As they made their way back to Pacho’s house they talked about their pasts. He knew a great deal about hers so, he was telling her mostly about himself.

“Parents abandoned me when I was a kid. Bounced around in the foster system for a long while. When I was 17, I ran off, decided I wanted to make my own way through the world. Ran into Pacho, quite literally, and my life changed from that day forward,” Diego began.

“How did you ‘quite literally’ run into Pacho? Explain that good sir,” Blix wondered with a teasing smile.

“Was running from a cop, stole food cause I was hungry, and ran right into Pacho. Cop was fortunately on the Cali’s payroll, so Pacho just waved him off. Took me in, 2 months later we were together, and have been since,” Diego told her with a laugh.

Blix laughed softly at that, listening to him tell more stories about himself.

Soon enough they had pulled up to the house, and after grabbing as many bags as they could, they hurried inside. It took a few minutes to sort out what went to who, but soon enough they had parted to go placed their stuff in their rooms.

She was hanging stuff up when she heard Pacho’s voice, “Did you two have fun?”

She looked toward him, before skipping over to him, “Yes. We did. It was a good bonding experience.”

Pacho shook his head at that, pressing a kiss to her lips softly.

“Would you like to come swim with us? I think Diego may be a bit in love with you. Something about history and thrift shopping?” He ribbed lightly.

She kissed him back, walking over to her closet to grab a bathing suit. She grabbed a two piece, changing into it quickly. It was times like this she was glad his pool was indoors. She grabbed a towel, following Pacho to his room, where he changed as well.

Pacho after getting dressed, stopped and stared at her for a moment. He was checking her out, a smirk growing on his face as he examined her.

She noticed his staring, “What?”

“Just admiring you,” He stated simply as he walked forward.

She looked down and away, a slight warmth to her cheeks.

“Snake charmer. That’s all you are,” She muttered as she turned and led the way to the pool.

Pacho’s smirk only grew, especially as he was treated to her backside.

“Stop staring at my ass,” She called over shoulder.

Pacho slowly caught up to her as they entered the pool house. Diego was already doing some laps when they joined him. The water was warm, as she stepped in, dunking herself when she got in deep enough. She floated calmly as she heard the guys goofing around and splashing each other.

She felt one of them swim up to her, and she turned her head to see who appeared.

“May I ask where all of these scars came from?” Diego politely requested as he looked at her.

She straightened up, to stand, wadded over to the edge, pulling herself up to sit on it.

“Ask away,” She granted, ringing water out of her hair.

He came up to her and would point at a scar. Her answers tended to be brief as she explained them, many were from work and others were from her childhood.

Pacho had at some point joined them, listening quietly. Once she was done, Pacho slowly pulled her back into the pool. As she rejoined them in the water, Pacho kissed the side of her neck, gently. She turned her head to him, kissing his cheek. She moved forward, wanting to do some laps before she got too tired.

When she was done, she got out, wrapping her towel around her, watching Pacho & Diego for a moment. While they were distracted, she made her way inside the house, briefly stopping to get a drink. It was while she was taking a sip of her Pepsi that she heard a strange noise. Setting her drink down, she moved toward the sound, which led to the basement door.

She knew she should let it go and ignore it, but she couldn’t help herself. She opened the door, walking down the dimly stairs. As she reached the bottom there was a lone light shining onto a man, tied down to a chair.

She realized as she got closer that it was Mr. Herrera, who had been badly beaten. His head lulled up to look at her, hearing her footsteps.

“Well, well, well. My son’s whore. What brings you here? Want to take a few hits too?” He taunted, spitting out blood.

“No. Heard a noise. Making sure the house wasn’t haunted. Now that I see that it’s just you… well. I think I’ll let you die alone and miserable,” She responded disgusted.

She turned away from him, planning to just go back to her room.

“Wait. Don’t you turn your back on me. Come back here,” He demanded, with a groan and a cough.

“No. Don’t think I will. Enjoy the rest of your life. However short it may be,” She stated not turning around.

She could hear him yelling more profanities at her as she closed the basement door, grabbing her drink, and going upstairs.

Unaware that Pacho had seen her emerge from that room, he listened to his father’s shouts for a minute before ordering Navegante to get rid of him. He found Blix in her room, grabbing clothes to change into for bed, after her shower.

“You should join me in my room, once you are done,” He told her, causing her to jump slightly as she wasn’t expecting him.

“Christ! Clearly need to throw a bell on you, so I have a warning system,” Blix startled, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Pacho apologized before requesting. “I know that…sometimes curiosity can get the best of us. Do me a favor, please don’t go down to the basement anymore. For your own safety.”

“I promise. I’m going to go clean up, and then I’ll join you in your room,” She promised him.

About 20 minutes later, she was strolling into Pacho’s room. She had finished her drink beforehand and joined him on the bed.

“Diego joining us?” She wondered.

“Not tonight, he has other plans,” He whispered to her.

“Your dad… was he always like that? Or was he just good at hiding his hate before he found out about you?” She asked him, shaking her head.

“Hm. Let’s just say… my mother left him for a good reason. She was trying to gain full custody of us when he kicked me out. I didn’t care much. I was moreso worried about Alvaro. I was able to help my mother gain custody of him at least,” Pacho explained, as he wrapped his arms around her.

She returned his embrace, “That’s good….” She paused for a second. “I assume Navegante took care of him.”

Pacho nodded in response, and Blix simply said, “Good.”

She burrowed herself into his arms, growing tired.

“I did want to thank you though. For defending my honor. Not many people would be willing to shoot at their partner’s parent. In fact…” Pacho trailed off, as his hand slowly slid down her curves.

His hand languidly found its way into her sleep shorts, moving past her underwear. His fingers ran themselves up and down her slit, toying with her folds lightly. She took in a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed against her clit.

He gently slid a finger inside her, making a come-hither motion, before a second finger joined. The palm of his hand brushed against her clit teasingly, slowly working her up. Her body was growing warm, and breath short as his movements became more deliberate.

Soon his fingers found a spot that made her gasp loudly, her hands trying to find purchase wherever. His fingers moved over that spot several times, leading her to a swift orgasm. She rode out her orgasm for a moment or two before he pulled his hand away.

“Well. I was tired, but now I don’t really want to sleep,” She moaned softly.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Pacho groaned as he rolled them over slightly, laying on top of her.

They spent the rest of the night trying to wear each other out.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| odd hour | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: fluff again cuz why not

a/n: written without proof reading because i had other writings to deal with :p hehehe! anyway i hope you enjoy reading, my dears! ~j.  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your chest tightened at the loud sound blasting from your phone. eventually your hands pulled the remains of your blanket to muffle out the ringtone. that’s great! it stopped ringing for a moment before the vibration went ahead of the tone. heck, it rang again. you kicked the covers in frustration, little whimpers escaping your lips that it was another night you couldn’t have a peaceful trip to your slumber.

the bright light kept blinking in the dark and forcing you to open your eyes. anger was written all over your sleepy body as you turned lazily to the table beside the bed. who could be calling you at this hour when you already started to enjoy the dream projected in your brain? screw whoever cut it short. as if you had the screen memorised, your fingers slid across to answer the call.

“hello?” you greeted groggily with a long, and somewhat disrespectful yawn. no harm in letting them know how irritated you were, right?

“y/n! i called you twice and you answer at the second call? you usually pick up after the first ‘prrrring’!” mingyu, your best friend slightly yelled a bit louder in attempt to overpower the booming sound system in the background. probably in the club again, you thought.

“mingyu?” you sat up just so you wouldn’t fall asleep. “tsk. ever thought of that i might be sleeping at this hour? it’s 3 a.m for crying out loud!”

by the sound of his voice in the other line, it was obvious his phone was taken away. you could hear him scolding someone, actually, when did he never scold anyone, that included you as well. “yah! jaehyun!”

you quickly stood up in your disheveled pj’s; heart hammering non-stop at the mention of this handsome, human being that have always caught you off guard whenever mingyu would hang with you. he’d tag along too and each time that happened, you tried not to smile or blush in front of the dimpled heartthrob.

and most of the time you end up failing when the rest of the boys shoot you with teasing daggers of grins.

the call was still on hold, and it appeared that mingyu tried to snap the boy back to reality. he kept on raising his tone and uneven breaths were heard, trying to chase jaehyun. you were walking back and forth— feeling nervous, in which by the way, was unnecessary. but what were you supposed to feel?

it was jeong jaehyun.

the guy you fell hard for, literally; when you tripped over due to the desktop chair’s legs that you didn’t see. embarrassing as it was, he was indeed a gentleman to have helped you stand up on your toes. your eyes never left his until he bowed to take his leave.

“y/n! do you have time?” mingyu finally went back to giving the attention you waited for. “i got hold of jaehyun.”

“and?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in question and held in your breath, the useless excitement of yours started growing— so were your eyes when he said the next words,

and also that had you blushing hard.

“pick your man up!” mingyu laughed with a husky and hiccupy kind.

you became flustered and panicked and your lips couldn’t utter a response. he started to burst out laughing, only to stop when jaehyun took the phone from him. “ʸ/ⁿ! ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ? ʰᵉˡˡᵒ!” he sounded drunk and totally different from what you had imagined. he was already cute, but the jaehyun now was cuter.

“y/n, please come here and get him?” mingyu begged. poor guy, his 97-line friends partied the night away and if there was anyone who would drive, that’d be him. “i can’t fit an extra person in my seven-seater van.” he whined and you could already picture out his pouty lips. “i’ve got chan, seokmin, jungkook, bam, minghao and eunwoo. jae’s a big guy so-”

grabbing your jacket and slipped on some comfy sweatpants, you headed for the door but stopped mid-way when you realised what you were doing. crap i got carried away. “wait hold up.” you sighed, putting down your car keys. “an extra person wouldn’t be a problem right? put someone at the compartment area or on the floor or something.”

mingyu faked a laugh. “i’ve never seen jae drunk before. i don’t want him puking.” he claimed.

“so you’d rather want him to throw up in my car-”

“ah consider this a favor, my sweet sis.” cutting you off and leaving you stunned in your tracks. “we, your brothers know your crush towards him. so if you don’t want us to tell him about your jeelings when he’s sober, better get here soon~”

j-jeelings??

you tried to enter his blabbermouth reasons even if you knew you didn’t stand a chance against this giant puppy. “wait, ‘gyu! i don’t know his apartme-” and he ended the call.

great, what were you going to do now?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the road was identical with those seen in an apocalyptic world described in movies. there were less people, flickering lampposts and garbage/debris spinning in circles with the wind’s currents. you flinched at the touch from jaehyun’s arms, which were attached to yours. he mumbled words in ways you couldn’t understand. it appeared more of a gibberish language; if not, then he was a total baby.

with combined smell of his perfume and alcohol, you thought you were about to pass out. he was too close and wondered how he was able to cling onto you in the most uncomfortable way possible. you sighed as you finally pulled over at his apartment block.

“jaehyun. we’re home.” you said, unbuckling the seatbelt and you had to do it for him since he was busy giggling at the buzzing fly trying to escape the window.

“we’re homeee?” he turned to you, face flushed than ever where you blinked non-stop at his stupid, adorable smile. “is it possible that you’re my wife? *hiccup* hahahaaa! wait i’m not even married yet!”

w-wife?..

you got off the car and went to his side, opening the door then found him struggling to stand up. “are you my wife?” he giggled.

“jaehyun you’re not married and i’m not your w-wife.” you said sternly, biting back from saying your actual, honest thoughts aloud.

he slung his arms around you thinking that you would support his weight. once you arrived at his doorstep, he pulled and led you into his apartment. apparently with the little furnitures he owned and no roommates found, it was clear that he lived alone. “stay here. i’ll give you water.” he offered and headed to the kitchen with wobbly steps. funny how he could make out his way there.

the place he calls home had pretty basic things; a keyboard, a complete set of tech-stuff you had no knowledge of and a vinyl turntable with several records. you snapped out of admiration when he handed you a glass of water and gummy smile glued to his face. getting up, you decided it was best for the both of you to get some rest. “thanks jae. now that you’re here, i’m gonna head back ho-”

a light thump on the wooden floor had you turning to him, but you covered your eyes at his action.

“tsk, it’s hot.” he removed his hoodie and underneath it revealed his tank top and toned arms. he was about to remove his top when you stopped him just in time.

“w-what’re you doing?!” you squealed and hopped, panicky and unsure what to do next. one palm covered your eyes and the other brought forth to reach him.

“taking my clothes off- hey! that tickles!” he whined, then laughing at the tugs you pulled at the ends of this hoodie, preventing him from further actions.

you fanned yourself at the exerted strength you’ve given, resting your arm by your waist. “gosh you’re such a handful!” you sighed. it was alright to blush since he wasn’t sober to see your expressions. thank heavens.

jaehyun crossed his arms and looked at you from head to toe. feeling the sleep signals hitting your body, you yawned at the odd hour you were suddenly dragged into. you thought bringing him home was hard, but getting him to stay at one place was harder.

his smiley face and waving body headed to the kitchen again, you slowly followed him around the apartment. “are you really not my wife?” his sudden turn to face you, causing flinch at his touch on your arm.

“jaehyun, for the last time, i’m not.” heh i wish. you rubbed his fluffy hair and grabbed your keys to get home. “wash up now and good night jae.”

he lightly slammed the wall behind you, not letting you leave. his eyes stared into yours, luring you into his world, an imperfect perfection. the weight of his forehead suddenly leaned on your shoulder, as if he was towering over you and yet he lowered himself to pull you close to him. “i won’t let you.”

the stillness of your body followed his words, like obeying a general’s command and no matter how sleepy you were, that went away once you returned his hug, not wanting to let go and take in the moment. this was rare, although it seemed like you took advantage of his drunkenness, even on normal days it was difficult to hold a conversation with jaehyun because he seemed so far-fetched.

a soft air of whispers tickled your ears, sending goosebumps at the touch of them. “did i surprise you?” he asked, followed by again a drunken giggle.

was he serious? “and if i said no?” you lied, trying to appear unaffected when you actually were. what’s wrong with you y/n?

“‘no?’ then if i do this, will you be surprised?” he asked with a challenging tone and had to leaned in closer than before where you both of your knees were touching.

“what exactly are you going to do nghf-” your fingers curled and eyes flutter when a sudden warmth met your lips. you knew you were going to faint right then and there,

but in fact it was the opposite.

jaehyun’s weight lifted off of you, collapsing afterwards when darkness consumed his sight to meet his sleep. he mumbled words that you didn’t notice, still utterly shocked with what he did. you managed to catch him and supported him to his bed.

your fingers touched the slightly swollen lips he planted upon as you were out of his door. then it immediately got you thinking that there was no way you would be able to look at him in the eye the next time you both meet.

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the drumming of your heart continued for the next days since that night. yugyeom noticed how fidgety you were whenever jaehyun would sit with the group at the library or at the caféteria. you’d immediately leave and think of lame excuses so you wouldn’t see jaehyun. at first they didn’t mind, you were a busy person after all. however this time, yugyeom managed to grab your wrists and plop you back to the chair. you mentally cursed at him and he didn’t seem to care like smiling it off would let him off the hook.

you annoyingly and purposely tilted your body so you wouldn’t face jaehyun entirely. “i don’t know what’s up with you but you gotta spill why you’re behaving this way.” yugyeom whispered and you rolled your eyes because yeah, you were busted.

“am i too obvious?” your surrendering voice softened his eyes, more so when you covered your face.

he raised his eyebrows and little did you know mingyu witnessed this as well. “obvious when you’re trying to hide your feelings for jaehyun or obvious that you’re trying ditch us again because of jaehyun?”

“both.” you sighed.

“did something happen that night?” mingyu cupped his lips, soon joining the so called ‘secret and quiet’ conversation you and yugyeom were having.

he didn’t get any verbal responses from you because you gave them a smile of uncertainty where your palms brushed your lips briefly. he covered his mouth as if he was really shocked, more of he really was. “something did, yeah?” he whispered and was convinced from your actions.

your phone alarmed, reminding you of your next class. quickly you packed your stuff and shoved them inside the bag, not caring whether they were neat or not. the rushed actions made jaehyun and the others look your way, and you tried your best to not meet his eye. “i gotta go.”

the faint smell of your perfume stayed in jaehyun’s nostrils whilst you didn’t bother to say goodbye. he turned his torso around, following your figure until it was getting further off the horizon of the caféteria. his friends became awkwardly silent, and he expected them to at least say something if there was a reason of your unusual behavior. instead, he got nothing, that they continued to eat even if they knew he had questions.

“is y/n okay?” he tilted his head in confusion, and saw how his buds bend theirs.

no one dared to speak because in this table, jaehyun was the oblivious one. he wasn’t aware of your feelings for him and the others have kept silent knowing the consequences if they told him; you were quite an angry bear, ‘a cute kind’, they said. “why are you all suddenly quiet?” he asked, the sips and slurps of the cups soon to be emptied.

“oh well y’know..” mingyu chuckled with his fangs peeking out. “just tired?”

“‘cause we’re eating?” jungkook pointed his food.

“uh we have a choice to be?” chan giggled with seokmin who was unable to keep silent.

jaehyun raised a brow, totally not convinced at the excuses and sat back with arms crossed. “you know i could tell if something’s up. who answers with a question anyway?” his straightforwardness wasn’t doing enough to keep them talking. “i’m gonna follow y/n.”

yugyeom stood to stop jaehyun from doing his thing without thinking straight. “wait!” he called out to him and the boy turned around.

the rest of the circle had given daggers to youngest who kept telling him to keep his words to himself. they really didn’t want to make you angry, but what yugyeom was doing would risk their friendship with you. to be exact, risk your friendship with jaehyun’s because of term called ‘crush’. their eyes pleaded and begging him to not spill anything.

“what?” jaehyun flattened his lips that the corners curved inwards, a more confused look seen on him. yugyeom cupped his mouth to whisper, the dimpled man’s eyes grew and scurried off the campus.

chan propped his elbows as the man sat back on his seat. “‘gyeom, what did you tell him?”

“y/n gave a hint before she left, i doubted it first. but it made so much sense as to why she kept ditching our meet-ups-”

“get to the point!” the rest of them pressured him.

the blond haired boy only sighed. “i told jae that he might've drunk-kissed y/n.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the sun met its sleep and the night began with patches of rain sprinkling your window. cool rushes of wind entered the thin gaps which sent shivers down to your spine, you wrapped yourself more into the cardigan. you hated it when the weather changes. 

pacing back and forth of your apartment, you’ve had battles in your head that maybe it was best to tell jaehyun or maybe it was better to keep things this way before you had the confidence to do so. you yelled into the pillow to let all of your feelings out. it was too much for your heart to carry or continue. even if you did decide to tell him, how would you approach him? how would you begin the conversation?

you held your phone much tighter than before yugyeom sent a message that gotten your brows raising in millions of questions.

[19:03] yuggie: the boys and i will treat you lunch or any of your cravings! we promise! 🙏🏼

“cool. i won’t be touching my savings for a while!” you cheered, knuckles and fists closed at the good news. unbeknownst to you, the reason for their actions probably would be revealed at a later time.

whilst you waited for dinner to be delivered, you turned on netflix to binge some series you haven’t watched before. however, you paused the means of leisure because you felt lonely. your roommate was out of town, leaving you to care for the apartment for a couple of weeks. and you couldn’t call the rest of the boys because some had work while others were busy with gaming. you could join them, but the motion picture of the game just doesn’t work together with your sight. the weather was already making you sick and nauseous. might feel worse if you played. 

so you uninterestedly switched on the tv again, spent nth minutes into choosing but never really decided on one. 

the memory and experience from that night came flashing in your head. you remembered the touch of his plump lips, the mixed smell of perfume and alcohol, his large hands wrapping your arm and the universe in his twinkling eyes. indeed you liked him a lot, and were thankful that your friends kept it a secret. if the truth came out, you wouldn’t know what else to do.

ding dong!

you stood fumbling with your purse, assured that maybe the pizza guy could wait a little, except it wasn’t who you thought it’d be. the door revealed jaehyun, soaked with an embarrassed smile. “hi?” he greeted, the rain drenched his clothes to the skin and his hair laid flat on his porcelain forehead. “i was about to call but-”

he was pulled in immediately, your hands on his wrists as the water bead droplets wet the wooden floor. “what are you doing in rain?!” you hissed, grabbing new towels for him to dry.

“i didn’t bring an umbrella and the sky just-”

“i thought i was reckless to leave the window open but you’re actually more reckless-”

“i have something to tell you.” he let the towel hung around his neck. there was something in his eyes that you somehow.. knew what he meant by that, so you decided to deal with yugyeom later. “i-”

“pizza delivery!” the guy said, making you and jaehyun turn to the still opened door.

you sighed heavily, why is there always one interrupting the other?

once everything was settled, he walked further into your home and removed his shirt that revealed a rather toned and refined abs. he took a new tee from a laundry basket fresh out from the wash that was exclusive for the boys in case of emergencies. you took care of actual babies.

you were now with him seated around the coffee table, unpacking the side dishes and drinks. “join me for dinner. i don’t think i can finish all this in one go.” you took extra ketchup from the cupboard. 

“wasn’t why i came here for but thanks y/n.” he smiled widely at the food laid out in front of him. 

that statement alone made you stop what you were doing. “why did you come here?” your eyes looked everywhere but him. unconsciously you bit your lip not because the guy you like was here, but because the kiss flashed in your mind again. 

jaehyun saw your action and scooted closer, the centimeters between you both lessening. “it can’t be a mistake, can it?” his voice was soft, with a hint of regret and worry at every uttered word. he eyed you from yours to your now wavering lips. “did i.. perhaps steal your first kiss?”

no words were needed to be said as to jaehyun, your actions and silence already said enough. you wanted to scream as the awkward air and your speechlessness was very unintentional. you wanted to talk, yet you couldn’t for who knew the reasons why. 

“i’ll take that as a yes.” he chuckled, stopping quickly afterwards at your fidgety state. “did i look that drunk?”

now it was you who let out an awkward chuckle. “so you don’t remember what happened that night?”

a warm tone of his hums prolonged the more the thought deeper. “not that i know of.. all i remember was being in the club with the dudes.” 

the rain poured heavier and it was uncertain when it would stop. thunderstorms were heard along with the patters of the droplets. jaehyun felt lucky enough that he came right before the weather turn worse. he let out a sigh of relief, but the relief of doing something unimaginable to you hasn’t lifted off of his chest. in fact, he didn’t know exactly why he felt more nervous than before when he shouldn’t be because it was just you.

yet, it was nervous because it was you.

the girl who managed to make his heart flutter at random times with your big laughs you weren’t ashamed of; the girl who rather hangs out with guys since you said there just too much drama with the ladies. but has a handful gems in her circle. and most of all, you were the girl he somehow wanted a girlfriend to be.

“stay tonight.” your words jolted him out from his thoughts while you moved the curtain aside to observe the rain. “it’s not gonna stop.”

“oh.” he muttered, internally cursing himself for interpreting you wrongly. “sorry for the bother.”

you handed him a slice of pizza, already devouring yours. “that was my first kiss.” he heard you began the topic he thought was long forgotten. “but i’m somehow glad it was you.”

“why?” he munched on his slice, anticipation was leading him on the more he waited for an answer. stupid stupid heart, he told himself.

should i say it or should i not? you thought. the thing was, he was here. the opportunity was already given and if you chose to confess later, it would be more awkward. screw it, i’m confessing. 

with uncertainty and slight fear, you exhaled. “because i like you a lot.” you said, now turning away due to heat spreading your cheeks. “a lot more than i like captain america- i mean chris evans.”

he dropped his food onto his plate, lips forming a pressed smile but he remained his composure knowing that he would probably lose control any second. jaehyun tapped on your shoulders, making you turn to him. “is that so? then i’m glad i didn’t remember the kiss.” his voice low and lovely. 

you tilted your head without seeing his red ears. “what do you mean?”

jaehyun, without hesitations, leaned forward and cupped your jaw. the warmth of his lips onto yours was warmer than the food in your hand. he let go of you, planting boop on your nose.

“‘cause i wanna remember kissing you when i’m sober. i like you a lot too.”

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 8: Lucky

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 8. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 7 'Delirium'. There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Toothless, Ryker, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 464

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Obsessive whumper”

Whumpee: Hiccup (and Toothless in a way)

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be up already, but I got very distracted by Attack on Titan. I finished my rewatch and I had 3 episodes of season 4 that I needed to catch up on and then I got very distracted by the reactors I follow that I know watch this show, too.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

It's late when he returns home from work. He's completely drained after being on his feet all day and when he steps in through the front door, what he longs for most is to kick off his shoes and prosthetic and crash onto the couch.

Someone has other ideas, as he can tell by the stomping footsteps coming up from behind him as he closes the front door.

They halt, one slipper tapping impatiently on the carpeted floor, and Hiccup knows he's in trouble. He slowly turns to see one furious Astrid Hofferson.

She'd come the second she heard the door open and she'd jumped off the couch to catch him and block his way to the living room. Her blonde hair is undone and lays comfortably on her shoulder.

"Uh, good evening? Milady?" He greets her hesitantly, deciding that a polite approach is probably a better idea than a sassy one.

"What took you so long? You were supposed to clock out two hours ago!" Astrid crosses her arms, a hip out, and awaits a good excuse. He hasn't even called her to let her know that he would be later or anything!

Hiccup puffs out a nervous breath as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to tell her. Upon seeing this, Astrid lets out an agitated sigh, reeling with her boyfriend's thoughtless decision-making.

"Viggo again?" She asks with a hard tone and he knows there is no denying it. Besides, she'd know if he was lying. So he nods honestly instead and she's already throwing her hands up.

"He came by at the coffee shop for a game of chess and I thought I'd entertain him for a little while!" Hiccup hurriedly replies, already imagining Astrid's disappointment in him.

"For two whole hours?!" Her voice raises, she's not too impressed.

"Ugh, yeah..."

"Hiccup, I can't believe you!" She expresses her disbelief before turning on her heels to return to the living room.

"He's obviously a lonely man, Astrid! He just wants some company and a listening ear once in a while!" He tries to reason with her as he follows her to the other room, where Snotlout is sitting on the couch.

Viggo just comes across as a lonely man to him. No partner, no kids, no friends outside of business, and a brother he rarely sees eye to eye with. It makes him want to take at least a few minutes out of his time to spend on him.

"Once in a while, he comes by almost every day, Hiccup! Today, he swallowed up two hours of your time! And after work, too!" Halting before the television, Astrid spins on her heels again to face Hiccup. "Hiccup Haddock, I know you're not a pushover, but somehow this guy gets you to let him walk all over you."

Snotlout should be annoyed that he can no longer watch the tv, the bickering couple interrupting his watch, but that matters little to him

"Heh, Viggo again, Hiccup?" He asks, finding amusement in that fact.

"You know, Hiccup, if you'd rather spend time with some lonely middle-aged dude then your own girlfriend, maybe you should go hook up with him. We'll question your kinks and tastes, though." He adds with a chuckle.

"Not funny, Snot." The couple tells him and Hiccup sighs afterward, awkwardly moving from one foot to another once more. He's tired and his leg hurts and he doesn't like fighting with Astrid. And to make matters worse, he has some news, too. It's not bad news, but he wonders if it'll be received well after Astrid's reaction.

She stands there, fuming, and she probably has plenty of reason to be. His not calling her to let her know where he's at, spending his after work hours with someone who is a virtual stranger to her, who is a creep in her eyes, pushing his own needs aside for someone who clearly has no eye out for his, ... Yup, plenty of reasons. And he might just be about to make it worse.

"Also... I won't be able to sleep here tonight." But it's better to just come out and sat it, so he tells her, his arms crossing.

"And why is that?" Astrid asks, not too pleased. It's Friday evening, she'd hoped to spend at least a little bit of time with him. You know, the time Viggo hasn't selfishly taken for himself yet.

"Well, Toothless came to find me again. I saw him sitting on the rooftop when I got back and... Well, see for yourself." Hiccup gestures towards a rather large window on one side of the room and Snotlout and Astrid look over to find the Night Fury there, watching them through the glass. He's sitting on the fire escape and looks very much like a cat expecting to be let in.

Finally seen, he yowls, wondering what's taking them so long. Hiccup has known all along that he's there, why is he making him wait?

"Oh, the neighbors are going to love this." Astrid groans, cringing at the sound. Snotlout covers his ears.

"Oh, I'm sure they will, which is why I'm dropping off my uniform and going back downstairs to meet him. I'll fly him back to the sanctuary and spent the night at my mom's because I'm-"

"Dead tired from all the work you've done? With a prosthetic?" Astrid cuts him off as she finishes his sentence for him. It's not like she thinks he can't do the same work someone else can, but Hiccup's reality is that standing on his feet all day will make him more exhausted than it would make an abled person. Astrid is aware of this, she just wishes Hiccup would be a little more self-aware from time to time.

Mouth still open, Hiccup stares at her for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, that. But anyway, I'll let you know in the morning if I'll be back tomorrow or Sunday evening." He lets her and Snotlout know before heading over to the bedroom he shares with Astrid.

He's been holding the uniform in his hands. It consists of a dark brown apron and a little hat that feels like paper, though they're all pretty sure it's not made out of paper. He hangs them both up on the coatrack hanging from their bedroom door.

When he comes back into the living room, Astrid is standing before him again.

"Okay, but I doubt he brought a saddle, so will you at least be careful?" She asks of him, still exasperated, but him spending time with Toothless is far better than the alternative, which is the middle-aged man seemingly clinging to a young adult. A young adult who isn't quite 20 yet, no less.

"Of course, Milady, when am I not?" Hiccup asks her with a smile, feeling like they are on slightly better terms now. He'll make it up to her somehow, he doesn't want her feeling like she comes second to some guy he's only known for a few weeks.

Sighing deeply, Astrid comes over and plants her lips on his for a kiss. They don't have any space in their home for a dragon as big as a Night Fury. So, unfortunately, she has no other choice but to let him go. Hiccup returns it wholeheartedly, heart skipping a beat in joy. When does she not make him happy?

When they pull away, Astrid pulls on his hoodie, straightening it out.

"Are you sure that's warm enough for the trip?" She asks him, knowing he gets cold easily. He's about the only person she knows who can still wear long sleeves in the summer. The amount of layers this man needs to get through the colder months is insane.

"I think I'll manage."

"That's not a good answer, Haddock, and you know that."

Snotlout groans in the background at seeing the affection, head rolling back, but they mostly ignore him. So he groans louder on purpose.

"How can I stand living with you two?" He questions when they look over, neither too happy with his interruption.

Toothless yowls again outside and someone shouts at "the big cat" to be quiet.

"Geez, impatient much?" Hiccup mutters under his breath and gestures to his dragon to get down from the fire escape. He should get going before Toothless gets them all kicked out of here.

"Again, be careful. And oh, don't forget to call when you arrive and tell your mom we said "hi"." Astrid quickly says as Hiccup heads for the door.

"I will! I'll see you guys later, Snotlout, Milady." At that last one, he shoots Astrid a quick smile.

Snotlout lets his head roll back again and-

"If you groan one more time, it's off to bed with you."

It takes a quick ride on the elevator down, but Hiccup is outside soon enough. It's summer and that means the air is cooler then it is during the day, but not quite cool enough. Even so, Hiccup pulls on his hoodie to cover as much of his collarbone and neck as it can before he looks up towards the top of the building.

"Bud?!" He calls out excitedly, expecting to be tackled by a dragon much bigger and much heavier than him in the next few seconds. He's bracing himself, it could come from any direction...

But instead, there is no response.

Strange.

"Bud!" Hiccup calls out again, didn't he hear him the first time? Dragons of his kind usually have a good hearing. Or he ignoring his calls? Making him wait because it's been so long since he's come by for a visit? He hates admitting it, but work has been kicking his ass. It's hard to do anything on most days and even during most weekends he finds himself in need of the mere two days of rest he can get.

"It's because you haven't worked a day in your life, son, you'll get used to it." Hiccup can hear his father say in his head and he can still feel the need to roll his eyes. He's worked! At the sanctuary and only what he was allowed to do, but he's done stuff before!

"Toothless?!" Moving from the sidewalk to between two parked cars to hopefully get a better view of the roof, Hiccup tries again, but gets no answer this time either. He was hoping to at least see some earfins pop up by now.

"Really, Toothless? Is this the time to play hide and seek?" Hiccup mutters to himself. He knows his dragon misses him terribly when they're not together, he misses him, too, but now's not the time. He's tired and he would like to fly back to the sanctuary already.

Checking the road behind him and finding the street empty for the moment, Hiccup cautiously takes another step or two back. In this part of the city, people usually don't drive as fast as they can in the busier parts. And at this hour, not too many cars come by either.

"Toothless, seriously?!" He calls up again, keeping a careful eye and ear out on either side of him. Don't tell him he's stuck on the fire escape again.

"Are you stuck?! Do I need to come get you?!" Hiccup asks, never losing sight of the street he's on. It's still quiet so far, no approaching lights, no roaring engines.

Finally, Toothless calls back to him and the call sounds far, so he must still be in the fire escape after all. Sighing, Hiccup figures he may as well look.

It's at that moment, probably by pure dumb luck, that a dark car with no plates and tinted windows comes speeding from around the corner.

Driving at speeds way, way above the limit, the car can't possibly be avoided. Hiccup sees it coming, has only seconds to stare into the blinding headlights as they come too fast, and there's nothing he can do but get hit.

The front of the vehicle hits his right side with full force first and he ends up on the hood for a brief moment. It all happens so fast, before long he rolls onto the pavement and is left to lie there on the ground. The collision broke some of his ribs, hurt his hip, dislocated his bad knee, bruised his wrists, scraped him all over, and he'll be a lucky man if that is all a hit from such speeds leaves him with.

Body hurting and unable to move, all Hiccup can do is groan. He can't get up like this. Who and why would just run him over like this? His head hurts, he must've knocked it on the ground.

After the hit, the car screeches to a halt and a man steps out. When he comes over, Hiccup can't see who it is, can barely turn his head to the approaching footsteps. When he tries, another pained groan leaves him. He can taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Everything is too much for his aching head, too much to process. He's on the verge of passing out, it's becoming black before his eyes.

The man who mowed him down stands over him. Hiccup can't see his face, but if he could, he'd see the satisfied look of another job well done. He's grabbed by his arms and pulled towards the car. Hiccup cringes at the unnecessary additional abuse his body must endure.

"W-wait... What're you... Why?" He can't struggle against him, can't keep the man from dragging him towards the car, it's taking him everything not to pass out.

When they reach the car, the trunk is opened and Hiccup is picked up and unceremoniously dropped inside. His body is in agony and he would've shouted if his ribs allowed it, but his apparent kidnapper doesn't seem to care much. If anything, he huffs and the trunk closes, bathing Hiccup in darkness.

What just happened to him? For whatever reason, whether it be the shock or the pain, he still can't move.

While this is happening, Toothless is, indeed, stuck. A fire escape isn't meant for dragons, let alone a dragon his size, nothing in a city is. This is a place for humans, which is why he thought to drag Hiccup back home himself. He wasn't coming of his own volition, so Toothless had to come and see what was taking him so long. But when he gets up to meet with his friend, he finds his tail to be stuck in the railing.

It's a hindrance and it's more annoying than a real problem. He can solve this without needing Hiccup's help, he just needs to be careful not to damage the replacement tailfin he so carefully crafted for him.

Murring impatiently as he tries to find the right angle to do this from, Astrid and Snotlout are watching him from the window, both concerned. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Astrid mouth something and she's gesturing in a way that's supposed to be helping him, but he doesn't quite get it. He's only half-looking, too.

On the other side of the building, Hiccup is calling for him and Toothless calls back once to tell him he's still coming. He just needs to be a little more patient and then he'll be there.

But then he hears a screeching that sounds like a noise one of those large metal contraptions the humans ride on would make. It's an awful sound to his ears, but not as alarming as the noise of a heavy thing hitting something not even a quarter of that thing's weight. And all of that is followed by a noise of pain Toothless is all too familiar with.

Was that Hiccup? Is someone hurting him?

Toothless knows that he needs to see what's happening and he all but tears himself free, the carefully refined leather hooking onto something metal sticking out and ripping. He hurries up the rest of the fire escape up on the roof, climbing the outside expertly like only a cat of his size and strength can, he'll be able to see more from there.

A disability has only affected his speed and agility so much, Hiccup can largely be thanked for that. As someone who is missing a leg, he knows a thing or two about loss. He reaches the roof quickly and he thinks to check the front of the building first, where the noises came from. What he sees confuses him, however.

There's a human male taking his friend and putting him in the back of that metal deathtrap.

His knowledge of humans and their strange behaviors only goes so far and he doesn't know what the intention here is, just that he doesn't like it. This screams "bad" to him and he growls in anger, claws scraping on the bricked walls. Someone is taking his rider away.

The male then gets into the "car", as they're called, and he can hear it revving to life. That's when Toothless knows it's now or never.

He's a Night Fury, leaping off tall things isn't anything new to him, so he takes a chance. He doesn't yet realize that his prosthetic tailfin is torn and that it will hinder him greatly in his pursuit. He wants to land on the vehicle itself, scare the driver, rip him out, and then get Hiccup out. His mate and that small friend of his are in their communal den. If he's loud enough, he can get them to come down and see. In the meantime, he can make sure the bigger male can't touch the car again and that he's too incapacitated to get away, too.

That's the plan, thought up in a matter of a second or two and he commits to it, he takes the leap. Except with a rip in his tailfin and the car moving away at the same time, all Toothless manages to do is scratch up the back and take the rear bumper right off.

Inside the trunk, Hiccup is almost startled to full alertness with his dragon's claws scraping above him and taking a part of the vehicle with him. There's a man's muffled cursing and what a mouth he has on him.

It takes Toothless a second too long to realize that he's holding just a piece of the car instead of the whole thing.

Did he just fail? A Night Fury isn't supposed to fail, if anything, they're supposed to be the pride of dragons! And he just failed his human?

He looks behind him, sees the tear in the cloth Hiccup made for him. He's lost his advantage and now he can't fly after the car either! He wished he'd jumped on time instead of too late, wished he'd thought to jump in front of it, too! If he'd just aimed right, he would've landed on the car instead of just snatching the rear bumper.

All that's left for him now is to chase. He's still plenty fast on the ground, he can leap, he'll find some other way to stop the damn thing. A plasma blast will land him in serious trouble, but that's not even high on the number of things he's willing to do to get Hiccup back.

They're not far, he can still see them.

But then another car comes from around the corner. They aren't driving particularly fast, but finding a dragon in your path is a startling thing and Toothless is startled in return. They almost block his path, nearly driving into the car parked nearby. Then a second comes and a third and they all screech to a halt, honking and yelling in surprise. They do nothing but hinder him in a city that's already too loud and unwelcoming and chaotic for a dragon.

Toothless has to evade them, doing whatever he can to just not get accidentally hit as he chases after his friend. He jumps onto a parked car, trying to spot the one that took Hiccup.

It's nowhere to be found.

Hiccup can hear it as he slips away, the miserable cries of a dragon in distress with cars honking in the distance, both deafeningly loud.

"I'm here, Bud, I'm... I'm here..." His words of reassurance fade as he falls unconscious, losing the fight to stay awake.

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

Pain. That's what Hiccup wakes up to hours later. An immeasurable amount of pain and the inability to breathe properly as his ribs are keeping him from it.

He groans miserably, feeling awful after someone came speeding down a relatively calm street to run him over. His head is a little slow in catching up on the events that landed him in this situation, but his body has a great memory. He hurts so much, there isn't a part of him that isn't in agony.

There are voices and an unfamiliar hand lays itself on his forehead. Is he in the hospital? Is there are a doctor or a nurse checking up on him? Oh, can they please give him something for the pain? He woke up only moments ago and he wants so desperately for it to end.

"You wanted him, now here he is." One of the voices breaks through the haze in his mind, the first words he's managing to register so far. Why does his head pound? Why is everything pounding?

He remembers headlights.

"And you felt like you had to run him over, did you?" Run over who? Can either of these two give him something to kill the pain? Or an explanation would be nice, too.

He groans louder, hoping to ask for help, but no coherent words leave him. That hand is in his hair now. Care is nice and all, but it would be much nicer if they could pick up on what he's trying to beg for here.

"You could've killed him on the spot! He might even still succumb to his injuries." No wait, that voice is familiar to him. The other one he doesn't recognize, but this one rings a vague bell. Hiccup has to open his eyes and take a look.

"Don't get my hopes up."

There are two men that he can see through a blurred vision and a dim light that's still a nightmare on his headache. He can't recognize one of them.

The other one, however...

"V...Vi... ggo?" Hiccup asks, voice hoarse. It's the first word that he manages to croak out. What's he doing in the hospital with him? Now that he thinks of it, where is Astrid? Snotlout? He can't remember if Fishlegs and the twins were home.

An image of Toothless flashes before his mind. He was there, wasn't he? Where is he now?

"you're awake, good, I was starting to worry," Viggo tells him, looking down at him with a look that isn't quite as caring as those words would suggest.

Hiccup blinks slowly in surprise.

"Where... What are you doing here? Where am I? Toothless is... What happened?" The questions are slow to leave him, but he's starting to catch up a little. He's not quite as awake as he needs to be yet. Why is this room so dim? Aren't hospital lights usually so annoyingly bright?

He wants to sit up or readjust somehow, feeling too uncomfortable with everything his body is going through. But though he tries, he only ends up worsening the pain in his right side tremendously. Whatever little progress he may have made is undone when he's forced to lie down again. His left knee hurts, did he dislocate it again?

This bed is so uncomfortable and lumpy, is this mattress even from this century anymore?

But the pain wakes him up at least and he can grasp the sort of troubling situation he's suddenly in a little more now.

This isn't the hospital.

He doesn't know what room he's in, but he can see that the little light bulb on the ceiling is bare and the only light source in this place, that the walls are brick, and the floor is made of concrete. If it weren't for the lack of storage space, he'd think that this is a basement, but that couldn't be it, right? He can't just be in someone's basement! He notices there's a ridiculously tiny bathroom off to the side, which at least looks clean.

What Hiccup's lying on is, indeed, a bed and his painful wrists are cuffed to the sides. If he wants to pull at them, he can try once or twice, but after that, they won't allow any more attempts.

Realization comes and panic sets in.

He's been kidnapped.

"Wh-what... What?!" He can't comprehend it, his thoughts and heart racing and struggling to keep up. Hyperventilating and very quickly unable to breathe at all, the rapid pace cannot mix with his broken ribs.

Did Viggo do this to him? Why would he do something like this?! Why would he hit him with a car and take him from his home?!

"Hiccup, calm yourself!" Viggo takes his shoulders and, honestly, how can he expect Hiccup not to freak out when he's been kidnapped?!

Oh Gods, Astrid was right. She was right, Viggo was bad from the start. And he's the idiot who walked right into another trap. Why does he keep getting himself into trouble like this?

Oh no, and what of his Bud? He definitely remembers his dragon being there when he was taken, what happened to him? What could've possibly happened to him?

"No... No! T-Tooth... Tooth?!" He doesn't have the air to ask, his lungs and his ribs in a fierce battle for whose needs need to be met first. They both burn.

"Hiccup, I implore you to calm!" Despite Viggo's best attempts, Hiccup doesn't listen to him, too much in a panic. If this goes on, he'll lose him before he can even start molding him to his perfect partner.

"That's never going to work, Viggo. You know there's only one solution to this." The other man, the stranger, states as he pushes him aside. A soaked cloth is pressed to Hiccup's nose and mouth, the sedative wetting it is breathed in immediately with his fast breathing and it takes its hold just as fast.

A different kind of haze settles in his mind, he's feeling woozy. It works quicker than he can realize he's being knocked out. He's going under, his breathing evening out, and his last thoughts wonders about his friends.

[scarletbluebird13]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a general MK fic where whilst they’re doing something in public (i.e. dinner, shopping), we catch sight of an enemy, and a few moments later, chaos ensues and after we go BAMF, we end up with an injury that is quite serious but we brush it off? Thanks if ever you choose to do this :)

Damn Idiot

*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°

Title: Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: ?(ambiguous) x MC 

Tags: idk what to put here; shonen?? 

Triggers: mention of blood, fighting, stabby-stabby, heavy cursing

Word count: 2038

A/N: Hiya! Thank you for the request, Nonnie! <3 I hope this is at least close to what you wanted - since no character was specified and you requested a fic, I decided to write you a fic with no specifics on who the suitor is -- hopefully his role is ambiguous enough any of the four guys could fit in <3 And I know you probably wanted one of the guys to have the cool action moment -- but MC got snubbed in her own series in all four routes and I didn’t feel right downgrading her capabilities here either -- Hope this is pretty close to what you had in mind, my apologies if it wasn’t what you wanted. Luv you Nonnie! Thank you for your request~ It was appreciated (lol thanks for laying out a general idea for what you wanted and giving me enough creative space) Feedback/criticism always welcome <3 :)

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Palm to palm, interlocking fingers - his warmth seeps into my hand. A welcomed sensation and one I’m used to. A sensation dearly missed. I’ve just returned from a month-long mission in Los Angeles. All the sunshine in that state doesn’t come close to the warmth emanating from his hand. Typically, he’d find a way to be with me - he can be impulsive at times, but then again, what did I reasonably expect when I decided I wanted us to take the next step in our relationship? I’ve missed him so much - all those lonely nights without him…the other side of the bed empty and his smell absent from the sheets. Heh. But the nights we teased each other even though we were on different continents were fantastic. ...I wonder how tonight will go…? 

“What are you smirking about?”  

I glance up at him - but the way he’s so cool and collected in public, you’d never guess that handsome face was capable of mercilessly teasing me.

“What fun is it if I just tell you?”

A smirk tugs at his lips, satisfied with my response as he replies; “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest as he gives my hand a squeeze - it’s embarrassing, but I couldn’t care less. I haven’t seen him in a month - I’ve craved his touch - and right now, it’s like we’re both immune to the stares of onlookers. Murmurs and sharp whispers can’t reach us. Not only could we care less about pda - what they say, what they think; none of it matters. What’s more? Today happens to be our anniversary and since I managed to complete the mission just in time, he’s decided to take me out on a mystery date - though, he’s so unpredictable I don’t have the slightest clue where we’re headed. 

Basking in the rare happiness and serenity, however, lay my own suspicions. 

I’ve had this sinking feeling since we began walking hand-in-hand - like there’s more to the onlookers than just passersby shocked at harmless hand holding. But today’s our day off, so I push my worries out of my mind, letting them settle in the peripheral of my mind’s eye. 

However, it’s not long before my heart begins accelerating with new meaning. 

I hear rapid footsteps approaching from behind - ones with purpose and imperativeness. All my instincts as an agent - and one who just wrapped up a mission the other day, no less - tell me this is no accident and this person means to charge toward us. Careful to not harm an innocent man running late for something or another, I look in the reflection of the window of the store in front of us, and see the man looks sketchy. Even though his eyes are covered, it’s clear he’s burning daggers at us. Whoever the target - the man at my side or myself - my instinct is to place a bullseye on this guy. 

When I see he’s too close and a millisecond would be too late to do anything, I drop the hand at my side, face the person, and land a hard kick to the ribs. In no way is the blow fatal, just enough to send the poor soul to the ground, coughing up blood. 

“___, do you know him?” 

“Oh yeah! He’s my best friend from high school, we used to do everything together- No. Of course I don’t know him.”

“Oh~ So even after kicking a man to the ribs she’s got her spice?”

“Shut up. He’s got friends.” 

And in just a moment, some of the onlookers have come to the man’s side. The others, clearly civilians, run in all directions, screaming.

“You’re a real bitch, you know?” The man with a bloody mouth says. 

“Oh is that the kind of impression I left? Glad I was memorable. Who’s lackey are you? Remind me?”

“Tch. Doesn’t matter. You’ll be face-to-face with him once we beat your sorry ass.” 

“Oooh I’m so scared.” 

“Shut up you bitch!!” I throw a punch at this annoying fool, right in the gut, my hand burning from the impact and my leg doing no better. Bad day to wear heels.  

The sorry excuse for a lackey goes flying before hitting the ground with a dull thud. Taking his place, another lackey from the crowd charges at me, and I’m able to take care of him. But there’s another - and if it weren’t for his timing, I’d have been hit. But he narrowly misses me. And that’s because the one I love steps in, punching the second lackey before he can reach me.

“Why’d you do that? I can handle this.” I say, a bit irritated at him. But I won’t lie, seeing him in action makes my heart pound - in a good way.

“A man who tries to beat a woman is not a man. That’s all.” He says, glaring the motherfucker down.

“This is my fight, not yours. Let me handle it-”

“I told you the same thing about a year ago. What was it you said to me?” He says, throwing a warm look at me from over his shoulder. With that I fall silent, remembering the love I feel for him in that moment a year ago. The same shattering fear of losing him. Of being without him. Wanting him to be okay in the end - it comes back tenfold. He gives me a soft smile before looking away from me, getting ready to fight;

“You don’t have to do this alone. I’m right here. Rely on me. Please.”

Before I know it, we’re taking out lackeys left and right, obliterating them. Rather, we should. At least one of us is an active agent with a severe training regime. 

Even with all that training

you’d think 

that I would consider every possible outcome. 

Good and bad. 

I finish up with the last pitiful excuse for a lackey when I turn around. I see the first guy coming back for another ass whooping with a sharp knife. I’m ready to take him on and disarm him the way I’ve been trained to do under certain circumstances, however, much to my horror, I see something I’ve never wanted to see since I realized how much he means to me. 

His silhouette flashes before me, his back encompassing my field of vision. I hear nothing. Feel the anguish and petrifying panic shock my nervous system. I feel faint. Like I could fall over at any minute. My hands are so pale, so cold, I forget what it means to be warm.

The only thing I see, the only thing I smell

is blood.

I’m ready to fall to my knees and scream his name but I can’t. I can’t stop now. I know I have to take out the last son-of-a-motherfucking-bitch-whore. And I wish it was the sight of his blood staining his back serving as the final thing that snapped me out of it. I wish it didn’t take me hearing his grunt and painful sighs to wake me up. I wish I would’ve sprung into action before he had the reflexes to jump in front of me like that. There’s so much I could wish for - but none of it will come true. Because the truth is I wasn’t fast enough. The truth remains that he got stabbed. And right now, all that matters is that I show the piece of motherfucking shit what happens when they go after someone so close to me. 

With tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision I gather all my strength and run towards the fucker.

Fueled with a hundred fires burning in my core, distressed and angry and scared for his damn life, my movements are hastier and packed with more roaring fireballs than ever before. 

I catch the fucker’s wrist when he tries to stab me, and I twist it as hard as I motherfucking can.  

He screams in agony and tries to reach for his injured wrist with his other hand. And to that one, I merely said ‘hell fucking no’ before punching his uninjured arm’s elbow. My fingers were red and trembling, and they hurt like hell for all the punches I’d been throwing, but I can hardly feel any of the pain. Seeing the piece of shit in front of me writhe in excruciation serves as my anesthetic. You don’t get to be one of the Boss’s top agents by not working for it. 

Pathetic excuse for a lackey gets off easy. It wouldn’t do me any good to murder him (he’s not worth the effort anyway). While he’s distracted with what I’m sure must be the most excruciating pain of his life (I guarantee it is. This hurts more than a seventh grade breakup. More than pineapple on pizza. More than getting shot. I know this because I caused that pain. If this isn’t the worst pain he’s ever been in, I’m not doing my job - even though this is my fuckin day off. My anniversary with my boyfriend of all the damn days. And to top it off, the day after I get back home after not seeing him for an entire month. Fucker has some balls trying to mess with me today), I walk behind him and shove him to the ground. I put some pressure on his leg and ask him one simple question;

“Whose motherfucking lackey are you?”

“Screw you bitch.”

“Wrong answer.” I coldly spit out, putting more pressure on his leg. 

But I stop. I hear a painful sigh, and look up. He’s clutching his wound and walking towards me with a little glint in his eye. And in that moment I forget all about the fucker beneath me and I go over to him instead. 

“Stop walking - it looks like it’s really serious. You’re bleeding out and need-” I’m cut off by his lips on mine. My heart accelerates and it stops at the same time. My body tenses up and warm tears of relief stain my cheeks as I finally reciprocate the kiss. 

“Are you okay?” I ask him, looking deep into those eyes that see more than an agent. See more than a woman. They look past all I am and all I am not and see me for me. 

“Yes, it’s not that bad anyway.” He says, his voice strained.

“Liar. You’re bleeding out. You need help.” 

“No, I swear I’m fine. This is nothing. Besides, are you okay?”

“I’m not the one who’s stabbed, so yeah, I’d say I’m okay.” 

He chuckles a little before slightly grimacing.

“Okay, you need help. Now.” 

“Bet you I don’t.”

“That’s one bet you’d lose and another I wouldn’t ever want to take any chances on.”

“I love you - you’re incredible. I knew you were perfectly capable of taking those guys out on your own - and probably a hundred more - but wow.” 

I hit his shoulder a little bit before staring him down and scolding him;

“I appreciate your help, but I was trained for this. Or did you forget that part? I could’ve handled it much quicker and definitely painless by myself. Why did you jump in front of a knife like that?” 

“Because I didn’t want to lose you. I know you can handle yourself, but I wish you’d rely on me more. You’re not alone anymore. You have me. Or did you forget?”

“But what if I’d lost you?!” I scream, losing all control over my emotions, the reality of how close I could’ve come to losing him forever to the icy grip of death more than I can handle. “Did you think about that before you jumped in front of the fucking knife like that?! You damn idiot!”

He stays silent. All he does is let me sob against his chest. Though I try to be careful, as he was stabbed in the abdomen. He caresses my hair and holds me close. 

“I wasn’t thinking. He’d stabbed me before I knew I was in front of him. I’m so sorry I scared you like that.” He whispers against my hair, placing a gentle kiss atop my head. 

“Thank you for living.”

[sebspocketsquare]

Quarantine 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 5, sorry it’s been a little bit. I had some trouble with this one because I really just wanted to get to part 6 LOL. Anyway, i hope you enjoy it! -T

Warnings: Flirting, language, quarantine, feels, fluff

The next morning, a string of texts wakes you. 

It’s J, letting you know his friend will be by in a couple of hours to install your security system and bring by groceries. 

He tells you to double check who’s on the other side of the door before opening it, and informs you that his friend's name is Sam.

Seems simple enough.

You get dressed, deciding to wear something a little nicer than the pajamas you’d been wearing lately. Makeup finds its way to your face and you even manage to brush your hair.

You could at least make yourself look human today, especially since you didn’t know how good of friends J and Sam were.. what if he went right back and told J you looked like you hadn’t bathed in weeks? 

That wouldn’t be good for your blossoming relationship…. friendship? Whatever it was.

You’re getting yourself a glass of water when someone knocks at your door. 

The couch had been moved back to its original position, and you look through the spyhole on your door to find a man standing there in a doctors mask with a backpack and bags of groceries in hand.

“Can I help you?” You ask through the door.

He makes eye contact with you through the spyhole. “I’m Sam, J’s friend. I’m here to install the security system for you?”

That was convincing enough for you. Opening the door, you offer a small smile. “Hi.. I’m uh.. I’m Clair.”

You can’t tell if he’s smiling through the mask, but he makes his way inside and sets the bags on the floor. 

“You mind if I take this off now? I promise I’m not sick.” He motions to the mask and you laugh softly. “No, go ahead. It’s fine. Just uh.. Stay six feet away.”

He removes his mask with a sigh of relief before flashing a pearly smile at you, “I’m Sam. Nice to officially meet you.” He looks familiar for a split second, but you convince yourself you’re merely imagining it.

Sam gets right to work with the install, and you take that time to put away the food and wine he’s brought. It’s too much for just you, it’ll last you months, but with everything that’s going on, you don’t know if you’ll even be ready to leave the house again anytime soon.

You make sure to shoot J a text telling him thank you.

Sam puts a device on each window and in each doorway of your apartment. A keypad is put right by your front door, and a panic button right beside your bed. He helps you set up a 4 digit pin that you’ll need to enter any time you come or go, and shows you how to set the alarm when you go to sleep at night. It’s so simple, but so secure.

J was right. It made you feel better. Safer.

Once everything is completely set up, he pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to you. It’s an order form. For your computer and television. You’d made the decision to not let him replace your tablet. He was already doing too much.

“Oh..” is all you can manage to say as you look it over.

Sam chuckles in return, “He um.. he really cares about you, you know..”

Meeting his eyes, you risk asking him a personal question, “What’s your opinion in all of this..? How he feels about me?”

He looks taken back for a moment, but smiles fondly before he answers. “I’ve known him for awhile now, and.. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him when he’s talking to you.”

You can’t help but smile at that knowledge.

“And Clair?” 

You meet his gaze one more time.

“I know it’s probably weird for you, that he wants to take care of all of this for you, but.. let him. He’s a good man. He doesn’t have any ulterior motives. He just.. when he cares about someone, he’s all in.”

Your heart warms at his words and you nod slowly.

He smiles again before picking up his backpack and heading for the door. 

“Hey Sam?”

He turns to you just before he’s out the door.

“Tell J I said hi.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Will do… and don’t tell him what I said about him being a good man and all that…  he’ll never let me live it down.”

HIM

I know as soon as the system is installed because a crude outline of her apartment appears on my computer screen. 

I set alerts to let me know anytime someone approaches the vicinity, when she leaves and when she sets the alarm for the evening. If she presses the panic button, it alerts the authorities first and then me.

I have to take every precaution to keep her safe. 

I’m closing the window on my computer when Sam returns home. I hear him kick his shoes off and set his bag down before heading straight for the shower. He pokes his head in my room on his way there. “System is installed, also.. damn she is way out of your league.”

His observation makes my heart rate increase. “Wait, what? What does that mean?”

He laughs and shakes his head, leaving it at that as he continues on his way.

I find myself suddenly jealous that he’s gotten to see her with his own eyes and I haven’t.

“You could at least describe her for me!” I call after him, to which he just cackles.

My best friend is an asshole.

HER

You’re sitting on the couch watching random videos on your phone when a new message comes through from J.

[Sarge:] Everything go smooth? :)

You’re sure he already knows the answer, and you’re positive that Sam already told him all about you, but you decide to humor him anyway.

[clairv0yant:] Yes. :) Thank you again for everything.. I really appreciate you. I checked the tracking on the form that he gave me and everything should be here by the end of next week. 

[Sarge:] Doll, I promise you don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to be able to help you out. :) 

[Sarge:] It will be strange not gaming with you every night for a while, but.. We’ll just have to find another way to spend time together.

His words only cause the smile on your face to grow. He’s so sweet. So considerate. So genuine and unfathomably selfless. You weren’t sure what you’d done to earn the affections of such an amazing person.

[Sarge:] By that I mean.. expect phone calls every night ;) 

[clairv0yant:] That sounds perfect to me. :P

xxx

You spent more time on the phone with J over the next week and a half than you’d ever spent in your life. Constantly exchanging texts and making phone calls, but never once asking the other for a photo. Not that you weren’t curious, because you surely were, but you were afraid of what he expected you to be like. Did he already have an image of you in his head? An ideal Clair?

You’d tried to picture him several times, but failed at each attempt. He still remained a mystery to you.

When your new tech finally arrives, you nearly jump out of your skin with joy. You make sure to lysol the holy hell out of the shipping boxes before touching them, and once the product inside is removed and placed in the safety of your apartment, the useless cardboard goes into the recycle bin outside.

It takes you an hour and 45 minutes to get everything set up, but of course as soon as you’ve finished, J is insistent about playing.

It’d been so long, there was no way you were denying him.

You missed it just as much as he did.

“You know what I miss most?” You speak into your mic, keeping your eyes trained on the battle scene happening on the screen before you.

J hums a soft, “hmmm?” in response, trying to keep his focus too.

“Mexican food.”

He can’t help but let out a bark of laughter, obviously shocked at your most missed thing while locked away.

“Mexican food? Really?”

It’s your turn to hum a soft, “Mmmhm”.

He’s quiet for a few moments except for the sound of his keyboard clacking as he fights, determined to win this round.

When the word Victory appears on your screen, he speaks again.

“You know I um..” He pauses, and you can feel his anxiety seeping through the internet connection. “Nevermind, heh..”

“What is it?” The first emotion you feel is concern. What could he not feel comfortable telling you?

“Promise you won’t just laugh at me?”

That’s a promise you know you’ll be able to keep. “Of course, J. What’s up?”

There's a bit of silence on his end, and then you swear you hear his adam's apple bob in his throat in a gulp for courage. “When all of this is over, I.. I’d really like to take you out on a date..”

You’re stunned into silence, thankful that a new game has yet to start.

He must take the quiet as a negative response, because he immediately backtracks.

“I-I mean, that’s stupid right? You wouldn’t go on a date with some guy you met online.. Hell, I could be some cree--”

“I would love to.” You cut him off before he can ramble on too much.

“You-really?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it brings an even bigger smile to yours.

“But only if it’s mexican food.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, the rumbling of the sound making your heart flutter.

“I wish..” He stops himself again, letting out a little sigh, “I wish I knew when that would be though.. When all of this will be over.. I just.. I really want to spend time with you, Clair.”

A new match begins in the game, but you’re so distracted by his confession that you almost miss your window to pick your character.

“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?” You joke, but there’s a falter to your voice, a doubt. You know what he really means.

“You know what I mean, I.. I want to be there, with you.”

It’s your turn to exhale a sigh.

“I know what you mean..” A funny image comes to your head, and you find it slipping from your tongue before you can stop yourself. “What would a quarantine date consist of anyway? You sitting on the opposite side of my front door drinking beer, while I sit inside drinking wine?”

He’s silent.

Not even a laugh.

It’s a whole two minutes before he speaks again.

“You know.. That could work.”

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the notes :(  ).  @mindingmyownbusiness​ @plumfondler​  @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​ @loricameback​ @tinaferraldo​ @geminimoonbeamx​  @preserumsteverogers​ @moderapoppins​ @lowkeysebby​ @buckyshattergirl​  @jayattemptstoruletheworld​    @the-observant-fangirl​ @moondancewrites​ @moonbeambucky​ @trinityjadec​  @stevieang​  @bionic-buckyb​ @eyecandybarnes​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @promarvelfangirl​ @ballyhoobarnes​ @bucky-plums-barnes​ @cate-lynne​ @witchymarvelspacecase​ @imaginingbucky​ @theimpossibleg1rl​ @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing​ @formulafun​ @curvybihufflepuff​ @fanficsformarvelkillme​  @shadyskit​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @reading–mermaid @fuckmestan​ @siliverin​ @verygraphicink​ @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty​ @steadyphantomcat​ @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow​ @theperditioncrasher​ @mmyepic​ @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @dreamingofonceuponatime​ @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ @bluerorjhan​ @tarynsnotokay​ @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri​ @pinknerdpanda​​ @starkrobb​ @marvelgirl7​ @unscriptedtimetraveler​ @fangeekkk​ @wonderlandmind4​ @pinkisokay​ @mrsdaamneron​ @rynabarnesrogers​ @wish-i-had-something-better​ @stanning-seb-stan​ @oilersgirl35​ @vaisabu​ @paranoid-borderline-insane​ @bonkywobble​ @vikki-rogue​ @witchymegg​ @a--1--1--3​ @margetastic33​ @stuffandstuff-stuff​

[seyaryminamoto]

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 3: Arranged marriage - Touch

On FF.net//On AO3

Dimly lit streets in the dark of the night made for a strange place to meet someone for the first time. Thus, when a young man had appeared suddenly at the carriage stop, the lone young woman waiting there shot him a warning glare immediately: if he dared make a single move out of place, she'd make short work of him immediately.

Yet he appeared to be as anxious as she felt – though she was better at concealing it than he could ever be. He glanced about himself warily before sitting at a fair distance from her, swallowing hard before glancing in her direction. In the cover of darkness, it was hard to make out his finer features, but she had the distinct feeling his skin was darker than hers.

"Hey, uh… this is the carriage stop, right?" he asked, warily. She frowned but nodded slowly. "Oh. Good, then. Uh… do you happen to know how long it takes for a new one to arrive? I mean, just how long do we have to wait here for…?"

"No clue," she said, bluntly. She wasn't interested in holding a conversation… and truthfully, no one had ever heard of common transportation of any sort working on a reliable schedule, to begin with. Odd that this guy seemed to not know that…

"Great," he sighed, but he fell silent then. He made no suspicious moves, said nothing worrisome after that, and so, despite her better judgment, she relaxed a little. Perhaps he truly meant no harm.

Ten minutes of silence later, a slow carriage wheeled into the stop at last. He sighed in relief but then smiled at her, politely.

"Hope you have a nice trip," he said. She raised an eyebrow but nodded in acknowledgement as she stood up…

And just as the carriage's moose lions halted outright, the driver called out:

"Final carriage of the day!"

"E-eh…? Oh, no," she heard the young man say behind her, just as she reached for the carriage's door.

She expected a fight, a forceful demand to be allowed to ride with her… but neither thing arrived. Instead, the young man rose to his feet, casting uncertain glances about himself, as though wondering what other getaway vehicle he might be lucky enough to find at night, if he tried hard enough. She frowned.

"You… you look like you're running," she said, suddenly. He froze in place.

"I'm… not. There's nothing to run from," he blurted out, unable to mask his nervousness. Her analytical frown was trained on his scared visage.

"No?" she said. "So… if I, say, decided to be generous and offered to share the ride with you, you wouldn't accept it because you have nothing to run from?"

"Oh? Y-you'd do that?" he asked, and now his nervousness was accompanied by hopefulness. "Gee, that's… that'd be great. Thanks!"

"I didn't say I was offering it yet," she said, with a teasing smirk. The young man froze in place, blinking blankly.

"You… okay, so you're just messing with me?" he asked, grimacing now.

"I'm still weighing whether you're worth traveling with, for however short a time it might be," she said, raising her eyebrows. He grimaced.

"Well, I'm sure I will be a most forgettable traveling buddy, I promise you won't even remember I'm on the same carriage as you," he said, nodding pompously. "So… please? I do have to get away, you weren't wrong about that…"

"Honesty is a good policy. I wouldn't say the best one, but it's good to know at least one thing about you before letting you share my carriage," she smirked.

"Oi, you two! Are you climbing aboard or not?" asked the driver, glancing back at them with unrestrained irritation.

The young woman sighed and glanced at the stranger before gesturing at the vehicle with her head. He grinned brightly at her… and for a fleeting, strange instant, she couldn't help but think no one had ever smiled at her with such innocence before. Whatever doubts lingered on her mind, that was already one new experience… one thing she might have never had, if not for the freedom she was currently fighting for.

She hoped the softening of her eyes wasn't apparent in the darkness of the night, however. She climbed aboard the carriage and the young man followed, closing the door behind himself. They settled on the same side of the carriage, despite still retaining some distance from each other.

"Where to, then?" the carriage driver asked.

"The bay," she said, not expecting that her companion would speak at the same time as she had:

"The port."

They glanced at each other in astonishment by then, and the carriage driver snorted over the strange coincidence before spurring his moose lions to start their regular trotting.

"You're… heading to the port too?" he asked, dubiously. "Or just to the bay area in general? Weird coincidence, huh? For the two of us to head the same way…"

"You really are running from something, aren't you?" she said. He bit his lip before shooting a wary glance at her.

"And that doesn't seem to bother you in the least. Which makes me wonder if you're running from something too," he said. She blinked blankly before nodding in acknowledgement.

"I guess you can think for yourself just fine, huh?" she said. "Though I'd surmise it's easier to run away when you know the land you're running around like the back of your hand… whereas you, I suspect, have no idea where you are or how anything works. Thus… you're not from around here, are you? You're a foreigner?"

"Uh… sure. And you are from around here," he replied, biting his lip. "Which makes me wonder why you want to run away…"

"Like no one has ever tried to escape from home in the history of mankind," she replied, rolling her eyes, and he chuckled.

"Fair enough," he said. "I guess it sounds pretty stupid to run away when you have no idea where you're going… well, no serious idea, anyway. I've been in the Fire Nation before, don't get me wrong, but not in the mainland. I, uh, had a master in one of the outer islands…"

"A master? Of what?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Swordsmanship," he replied. Her eyes widened.

"Wait… Master Piandao?" she asked. "He agreed to train you?"

"Yeah, believe it or not," he said, grinning. "So, you know, give me a sword and I can be your bodyguard, if you need one. Come to think of it, I could use the coin from a job like that…"

"Fun as the idea may be, I don't exactly have a ton of money on me right now so I couldn't quite afford your salary," she said. "I have enough to pay for this ride, and then…"

"Then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Then I'll have to save up," she said, simply. "Once I move on further."

"So… do you want to take a ship ride, huh? Is that why you're going to the bay?" he said, with a bright grin. He took her silence as a positive answer. "Great. Maybe we can find a ride together too! I have no idea where to go, so I can tag along with you for as long as you'll have me. Once I reach the Earth Kingdom I'll figure out my bearings properly…"

"Ah?" she watched him intently now, as he offered her a tight-lipped grin. "You're off to the Earth Kingdom, then?"

"For now, yeah. It's just a temporary plan… until I can find someplace else to stay safely," he said, shrugging.

"And you know the Earth Kingdom better than the Fire Nation?" she asked. He smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, not really. I've seen even less of it so far, but with how big it is, tracking someone down over there must be real tough," he said. "I'd say I have a good shot at shaking off pursuit by then."

"You're so set on running… did you kill someone, perhaps?" she asked, smirking. He snorted and shook his head.

"No, no, definitely not," he said. She huffed.

"Heh. That's boring. I'd have rather traveled with a murderous swordsman rather than a plain swordsman…"

"Why?" he exclaimed, still amused. "How is that any better?"

"It's more threatening, is all," she smiled. "Well, either way… I'm thinking we could help each other, to a fault. I know my way through the Fire Nation, I know exactly which ships to stow away on, which islands to stop at…"

"Stow away?" he repeated, blinking blankly.

"Didn't you hear I don't have that much money?" she said.

"Well, yeah… heh. Makes sense," he snickered. "Then we're going to be stowaways?"

"If you truly intend to come with me, yes," she smiled. "Then we can travel together in the Earth Kingdom for as long as it's convenient. If the time comes when our arrangement stops working, we go our separate ways. Easy, right?"

"Sure," he said, grinning. "Though… you really must be running away from something weird too, if you'd rather travel with a murderer who can intimidate people successfully."

"Eh… it just comes in handy, is all," she said. He smiled and shrugged.

"Alright. No need to share anything personal if you don't want to," he said. "Though… we could learn each other's names, right? If nothing else? We'll be traveling together for a while, from the sound of it…"

No, they certainly could not share that. She was fine with traveling with a stranger if that was what she had to do… but not quite as fine with revealing something as damning as her very name. For if he was a foreigner in the Fire Nation, just when a certain diplomatic delegation had traveled there from the Southern Water Tribe, then chances were he was part of that diplomatic delegation… and that'd mean he'd know exactly who she was, as soon as she spoke her name aloud.

The only way out was to lie, of course. And while it was clear he was no good at it, she certainly was far more skilled at that particular art than he was.

"I'm Ming Wei," she said, blurting out the name of one of her school classmates from ages ago. She caught the small twitch of his eyebrows, and she stared at him intently: "You?"

"Uh… Yuro," he said, knowing his hesitation would do nothing to afford believability to his claims. Then again, he had been able to tell her name was a lie, too: she had given it too readily, with a hint of defiance that didn't seem all that necessary when merely giving away a name. Just so, it was obvious she could tell that wasn't his name either.

"Yuro?" she repeated. He grinned and nodded. "Huh. Sounds like the name of a Water Tribe person. You're part of their delegation, then?"

"Uh… yeah. I am," he admitted, averting her gaze. Damn it. Yet he had already admitted he barely knew the Earth Kingdom, feigning to be a citizen of the large continent would've been an even more obvious lie than his fake name already was.

"And you're… running?" she asked.

"Well… yeah. Because you see…" he started, biting his lip before deciding it was all or nothing, at this stage. He had to go all out… otherwise his companion might see through him, turn the carriage around and toss him right back at the Fire Nation Palace's doorstep. "I've been the Southern Water Tribe Prince's bodyguard for ages. That's why I learned with Master Piandao, you see? But he is… an arrogant, annoying, lazy brat I can't stand, you know? I don't want to work for him anymore. So, you know, I thought if I ran away right now, no one would really notice or care: he's got all the Fire Nation's guards now, doesn't he? And he'll probably be able to take some of them back home with him if he wants, once his marriage is finalized…"

"Then… you were just waiting for the chance to get away?" she asked. He nodded promptly: something with that story didn't sit right, but just hearing the Prince was an arrogant, annoying and lazy man had been enough to put a stop to her rational thinking. Oh, she already hadn't wanted her whole life to be chosen for her, those words had merely cemented that belief further.

"Yup. I'm tired of living my life doing what everyone expects of me," he said. "It was as good a chance as any to get away. Maybe my only chance ever."

And perhaps she was too emotionally compromised at this point, for she had sensed no dishonesty in those last words. If anything, all she felt now was empathy… which was rare. She didn't often feel empathetic towards anyone. But that strange swordsman's struggles were far too similar to her own… perhaps too much, but she didn't seem to think of that just yet. It was all too easy to understand chasing for freedom they had been deprived from throughout all their lives…

"And you knew about the delegation, then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Was it made common knowledge, or…?"

"Well, in high circles, yes," she said, biting her lip. Ugh, why had she gone and said that for? Now he'd assume she was noble… which she was. But the idea was to throw him off… yet, busy as she had been daydreaming about freedom and about having found a kindred spirit, she hadn't focused enough on lying successfully anymore.

"So, you're… highborn? Or you work for them, too?" he guessed. She nodded.

"Work for them, yes. I… was the princess's maid," she whispered. He gasped.

"Oh? You were? Then… you're running for the same reasons I am?" he asked, his voice dubious.

"Something like that," she said, biting her lip. "I just… took advantage of the chaos. Getting away while everyone was riled up over the foreigners was the best chance I was likely to get."

"I see…"

They glanced at each other warily for a moment, suspicion crossing both their eyes… but again, they said nothing. The dim light filtering through the carriage's curtains wasn't enough for them to see each other better, and even if they could, their physical appearances weren't going to suffice in determining whether the other was lying in the exact same way they were…

If that were the case, though… the thought crossed both their minds, and anxiety surged inside them. Wouldn't it be outrageous that they'd run away together if they were, perhaps, running away from each other?

But no, they weren't truly running away from each other. They wanted to run away from letting their families make their choices for them. They were running away from a life of submission and abiding by tradition, from a life of arranged marriages that were only focused on the political advancement of their respective nations… and not in the least on the happiness they might find with their significant other.

So, whoever he was, or whoever she was, they were stuck on the same boat… the same carriage, at the moment, but soon enough it'd be a boat for real. This wasn't about affronting each other, it was about finding freedom, and if they were to find it together, at least they wouldn't have to face their upcoming hardships alone.

"Well… nice traveling with you, Ming Wei," he said, with a friendly smile. Despite everything, she smiled back and nodded.

"And with you, Yuro," she whispered.

The night covered their escape once they reached their destination: they paid the carriage driver quickly and then dashed away through the streets of the bay. He tagged along behind her, shooting wary glances all around them to make sure no one could see them as she determined which cargo ship was the best one to stow away on for their grand escape. Finally, she narrowed down one that appeared safe… and they climbed aboard at haste, hiding amongst crates below deck while waiting for morning to come, and for the ship to start moving.

As much adrenaline as they had at first, it decreased steadily while they waited: morning found them dozing off together in the ship's cargo deck, her head on his shoulder, and his against hers. Even after she woke up anew, she didn't dare move right away: why was his presence, his warmth, so comforting? Was it because he was the first man, outside her relatives, that she had ever allowed herself to touch so carelessly? Naturally, that only made her extra nervous – and then, curiously, he was just as nervous as her when he woke up too, blushing and apologizing profusely for getting closer to her while unconscious. She wondered, briefly, if he was just as sheltered, just as unexperienced with anything outside his family, as she was.

… And again, the likelihood of him being who she thought he was surged. It really might be him. He really might be running away from the same thing she was…

The cargo ship was slow and made several stops through the day: she had chosen one specialized in food trade, however, so they didn't lack for nourishment while they traveled through the Fire Nation's waters, stealing food occasionally from the crates whenever it was safe to do so. Still, whenever the ship stopped, the sailors would enter the lower deck to collect crates and deposit new ones: one time she had clasped her hand over his mouth to silence him as he was in the middle of reciting his favorite types of noodles when she heard the first footsteps coming closer, another time he had to lunge for her, pinning her down on the wooden floorboards just as she was in plain view, ransacking another crate in search of food, just as the sailors brought in a new haul of items. In every case, they knew they should have been affronted by the casual, careless touching between them… and yet their bodies' reactions were as distant from affront and discomfort as could be.

They fielded off each of the sailors' incursions successfully… until the ship stopped for what seemed to be the sixth time of the day. There weren't as many crates left anymore, so the sailors started to look deeper through the cellar… it was obvious this time that no matter how they held their breath or remained perfectly still, they would certainly get caught.

"Check the crates at the far end, Zan. It's gotta be there," said one of the sailors.

He tensed up beside her: they were near the crates they were hiding at. Oh, if that Zan guy caught them, he might turn them in to the authorities if he recognized either of them, and all their intentions of running away would prove futile…

He glanced at her with uncertainty, and she glanced right back, defiantly: she conveyed silently that he should follow her lead. He wasn't sure what that meant until the man was closer yet, enough that his unkempt, sweaty body odor reached them… and then her hands fisted around her traveling companion's shirt, pulling him in for a surprising, ferocious kiss.

And inexperienced, too. Which was fine, for he was just as inexperienced at it, going by how awkwardly his lips shifted against hers, not knowing what he was doing but following fit with her silent demand, as requested.

It was strange at first, but smoother moments later: she wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping to afford further believability to the story she hoped to feed the sailors once they caught them, and to her surprise, he embraced her waist too… even going so far as leaning down on her, pressing her to the floorboards as he grew to understand what he was supposed to do, gradually.

She had been focusing so much on selling their pretense that she had barely noticed it wasn't quite so much of a pretense anymore: this guy was seriously learning how to kiss by kissing her. And she was letting him. In fact, she was learning a thing or two as well.

Her right hand cupped his face, keeping him in place as she wondered if she ought to go further… and then it was his tongue poking her lips softly, so she of course rose up to the occasion. Oh, that wasn't fair, deepening their kiss had only made it even more pleasant… his tongue toyed with hers, swirling with it, rubbing against every place inside her mouth he might be able to reach. Well, damn, if she had thought this would feel so good, she would've likely started doing this with him from the moment they climbed aboard the same carriage…

"Oi! W-what're you two doing down there?!"

Ah. There it was.

Naturally, they were ejected from the ship, and they were left to watch it sail away as dusk settled over their current location. He was aghast over the fluke of their plan, having hoped that playing the eloping lovers convincingly might elicit sympathy from the sailors, but there was none to be found. She told him, however, that he shouldn't worry: it was a perfect opportunity to further mislead anyone who might be pursuing them, she told him as they walked together over the dock, still holding hands to continue furthering the pretense that they were but a couple of young adults who were so enthralled with each other they couldn't stop doing inappropriate things together… a perfect pretense indeed, for this way no one would suspect the truth behind why they were stowing away on ships in the first place. Yet after that kiss, she wasn't all that sure it was only a pretense anymore…

"So… where did they ditch us?" he asked, casting glances at the beautiful island warily. "This looks pretty, but…"

"It's pretty, yes. Ember Island," she said, simply. He raised his eyebrows.

"Do you know this place? Do you have friends here we can stay with, or do you think there are any other ships we can stow away on…?"

"Maybe we should wait a little longer," she said. "We could use a break… and I know how to sneak into the Royal Family's vacation house. We can spend the night there, and if there happens to be any coin stashed away in there, we can actually pay for our passage to the Earth Kingdom, no need to stow away anymore."

"Isn't that risky too, though? If we travel legally and someone links us to the royal families, they could give us away and send us back…" he mumbled with uncertainty. She smirked.

"Not necessarily. They won't really have reason to suspect it in the first place, right, boyfriend?" she said, tugging at his hand. His cheeks heated up and he smiled weakly at her. "We'll try to find casual clothes in the villa, so we look even less suspicious… and then we'll find a small boat, probably manned by commoners with no likely connections to the Fire Nation Royal Family. That way no one will ever guess who we are."

"Sounds fair," he smiled. "Also… we, uh, should practice our cover story some more. Just saying…"

"Should we?" she smirked.

"I have spent all my life devoted to the way of the warrior," he said, playfully pompous. She snickered at his words. "So, uh, I'm not exactly experienced at this sort of thing…?"

"And I've spent my whole life waiting on a pampered princess," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Hence, I'm not experienced either…"

"See? It's only natural that we'd need more practice. It's just to make sure we're perfectly believable," he assured her. She laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish," she said. Truthfully, she wanted to kiss him again. She had never expected that sensation to be addictive… but it truly was.

She led him to the Royal Family's villa, guiding him towards the back of it just as he suggested he could climb the front gates to prove just how strong and manly he was, in order to impress his new "girlfriend". Once she found the secret backdoor, and they were safely inside the house's premises, she suggested he could do it anyway, if he truly had wanted to impress her.

All such playful banter and teasing continued through the evening, and neither one was sure why or how it was so easy to play with each other in this way. They found more than enough money, stashed away in a vault that she opened suspiciously easily, to afford passage to the Earth Kingdom, and they even used some of it to buy some food in the town, eating it together in one of the most lavish rooms within the villa, a comfortable lounge furnished with crimson cushions and couches, so comfortable he seemed tempted to fall asleep on one of them, right then and there.

"You know… for a maid, you have really smooth and pretty hands," he teased her, watching her as he rested on one of the couches. She was fluffing a cushion, which she tossed at him playfully, prompting him to laugh as he caught it in midair.

"I'll have you know, taking care of my appearance and my skin doesn't make me any less hardworking than some fancy warrior boy who took lessons from the most pretentious sword master in the nation," she said, approaching him and pushing the cushion into his chest. He only laughed at her response, reaching out to clasp her shoulders with his hands.

"The most pretentious, you say?" he smirked. "How so? He was always pretty cool…"

"The swords he crafts are the most expensive in the Fire Nation, period," she replied. "Not to mention he has always been known for being awfully picky about his students, choosing only the worthy… and how does he know who's worthy, huh?"

"He's wise and clever, that's how," he grinned. "And see, him being picky is exactly why his swords are that expensive. He had to to live off something other than teaching, don't you think?"

"And what do you think you'll live off of, then, in the Earth Kingdom?" she asked, leaning over his body, with the cushion still between them. "You'll be a sellsword of some sort? A mercenary?"

"Sounds fun," he smirked. "Want to join in? I could teach you to use a sword of your own, if you want to… heck, we should ransack this place for swords, too. I didn't bring one with me when I ran away, but the sooner I get one…"

"I don't think there's weapons in this place," she smiled. "This is, after all, a vacationing spot."

"How careless of the Fire Nation Royal Family to assume they're not going to need swords in their vacationing spot," he declared, smirking haughtily. She snorted and laughed, pressing her face to the cushion. "What if a door lock gets jammed? If you have a sword you can press it right between the wall and the door, and then you're free! See, we all need a sword once in a while…"

"Why didn't you bring one of yours on your trip, then?" she asked. He bit his lip.

"Uuuuh…" he averted his gaze from hers, and she snorted again.

"You can be quite smart sometimes. But then you also stop being all that smart moments later," she grinned. "Strangely… I like it."

"You do, huh? Means you can make fun of me pretty easily," he smirked. "Say, I am enjoying your weight atop me, lady maid, but, um, I just remembered we agreed on practicing our pretense relationship some more…? You know, so it's more believable tomorrow…"

"More believable, huh?" she said, raising her eyebrows. He grinned giddily. "Is that really what this is about? Aren't you just desperate to kiss a woman, now that you had your first taste of it?"

"Well… yes, that's also true," he admitted, shamelessly. She laughed and shook her head.

"At least you're cute. For a Water Tribe guy," she said, haughtily.

"You're cute too. For a Fire Nation girl," he smirked.

She bit her lip before leaning in… and he leaned too, catching her lips with his own. Something told her he had a whole strategy planned, regarding how to kiss her, how to touch her, how to keep her on her toes and overcome her sensually…

And as reckless as it was, she let him.

For he was charming in his own way, why lie? He had already been a remarkably skilled kisser, one who had taken to discovering how to improve his technique to perfection… the expected behavior of a talented swordsman. Everything that might come next should be, she hoped, just as amazing and fun as the heated kissing was, going by how his hands trailed over her hips, tugging at her sash shyly despite his lips were as savage as they dared be…

If she did it, she'd definitely close the door on the future she had been forced into. Oh, perhaps he was indeed who she had grown to suspect he was, and that would be its own kind of trouble… but if he wasn't, this would change her future for good. No more lying about, waiting to be of use for an uncle who thought little of her, Fire Lord as he was. No more spats with a mother who constantly assured her she only wanted what was best to her, and that traditions were what was best, somehow, even traditions she couldn't seem to explain with any reasonable arguments. No more butting heads with a brother who, for all his faults, was still the assigned heir for their father. No more waiting for the perfect opportunity to prove her worth with a father who could only see her as a child to protect. And no more pitying a cousin, heir to the Fire Lord, who had everything he could ever want, except for the one thing she was currently chasing after: the chance to choose for himself who he wanted to be.

For if she was caught with this guy, whoever he was, she would be disowned, tossed aside… and while the loneliness could be hard to bear with, it wouldn't be quite so bad if she was with him. He wanted to go all the way to the Earth Kingdom, didn't he? Why not go with him, to the very ends of the earth if he wished, if it'd mean he'd kiss her just as delectably and deeply, if it'd mean he'd laugh with her as he had so far, if it meant he'd touch her boldly once she tugged her own sash loose, offering him permission to continue onwards, his hand trailing over her abdomen…

It was madness, of course it was. She barely knew him, she was certain she didn't know his real name, and she had no idea if he was actually a dreadful guy who couldn't even clean up after himself, or do menial chores – because, to be fair, neither could she. But something felt so right as she bared herself before him, and as he did the same before her. Something worked, clicked, even if it might have been merely caused by the unabashed enthusiasm of two young people finding and making love for the first time.

Oh, it was so reckless. It was such a bad idea. And yet they went all the way, kissing and holding each other intimately through the night, thrusting away in a wild celebration of freedom, of having chosen for themselves, of having done what they pleased, all consequences be damned…

Such consequences couldn't be all so easily dismissed, of course, when they were startled by strange noises in the Ember Island villa by morning. She rose first, her lower body sore in a strangely pleasant way, and she cast a wary glance in the direction of the door before clasping her companion's bare shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, I think we're not alone anymore," she said. He groaned and blinked himself awake.

"Hmm… you're so pretty…" he smiled groggily. Her cheeks flushed: well, that was a nice enough compliment to wake to, considering it was the first time he'd seen her in proper daylight so far, but she wasn't sure it was the time for it anyway.

"Thanks. Now… we should get dressed," she said, raising her eyebrows. He hummed before he frowned. "There's people nearby. We need to get going, right now."

"Uh… oh damn," he said, biting his lip and sitting up. His hair had been tied in what she had interpreted as a top-knot before… now she could tell, as he pulled it up hastily, that it was actually a wolf's tail. A classic Water Tribe hairstyle… that she had never thought she'd find all that appealing until she saw it in him. Curses, he was far better-looking than she expected him to be, too.

They climbed off the couch, hastily cladding themselves in their traveling clothes. Caught up in their night of passion, she had forgotten her intent to search for casual clothes in the villa's closets, anything they could wear, as long as moths hadn't eaten them away since the family's last visit…

"What do we do?" he said, pulling up his trousers: his bare chest was a delight to gaze upon, too. To think she'd slept with her head perfectly rested on those strong pecs… ugh, whatever came next, whether they were caught or not, she'd find a way to run off with him again. She needed more of him, one night definitely hadn't been enough. "Who do you think is out there…? Does the Royal Family have, uh, hired help that works tending to the house while they're not vacationing? Or…?"

"No, they don't," she answered, coming back to her senses upon hearing his rational words. She had to get dressed fast too, to pull up her hair, and to remember every single hidden passageway within the villa that they might be able to escape through… "I have a plan. It'll be confusing, but you have to follow me."

"No problem. I'll go wherever you take me," he said, winking at her. He ought to stop that, or she'd pin him down and kiss him all over again…

"Well, then…" she said, lowering her voice as she slid her feet into her light shoes…

And then a loud knock on their lounge's door. They both froze in place.

"Are you in there?! Open up, now!"

The voice was familiar, and dread rose inside her gut upon hearing it. Oh, no. Of all people, it was her father who had found her. Curse everything…

"W-what do we do? Are there any ways out of here without going through the door, or…?" her companion asked nervously. She shook her head.

"My plan… we had to go to the corridor to reach the passageway I had in mind. I mean, unless you want us to jump out the window…?" she suggested. He frowned but nodded.

"Cool. It's just a second floor anyway, and if I land right, I won't break a bone. Hopefully. I can catch you down there, once you jump too," he decided, breathing out and stepping towards the window.

But before he could reach it, a clicking sound revealed the locked door had been opened, and the sound of another voice froze him on his tracks, next:

"You'd better not be in there, son, because if I get my hands on you after what you've pulled…!"

Oh, hell. Oh, hell by the thousands. This wasn't good.

The two runaways froze where they were, meeting the glares of the two men who barged into the lounge without missing a beat. A group of soldiers stood in the corridor, and the Fire Nation nobleman who had made his way inside the room ordered them to wait outside: the Water Tribe man beside him, clad in regal clothes, could only be, of course, Chief Hakoda. And the Fire Nation man was none other than the Fire Lord's brother, Prince Ozai.

"Well, well. This is just as bad as we suspected, huh, Ozai?" said the Chief, shaking his head as he glared at the young man by the window, who had lowered his gaze shamefully.

"You… you are in a lot of trouble, young lady," Ozai hissed, pointing at the young woman, who shrank in place. Well, that was a first. She had certainly never made him that angry ever before…

"U-uh, it was my idea!" the young man exclaimed, rushing back to stand before her, gazing pleadingly at the two newcomers. "I bumped into her, in the Palace, and then I asked her to run away with me, and…!"

"And she was stupid enough to go for it?" Ozai growled, still glaring at her. "You disappoint me, child. Is this what I raised you for?"

His words slammed into the young man with the truth he hadn't quite wanted to acknowledge, despite he had known, deep down, that it was the truth indeed.

"Or what I raised you for, Prince Sokka?" Chief Hakoda growled, and this time it was the young woman who shuddered upon hearing those words.

Oh, Prince Sokka. She had sworn herself that she would hate him on sight, and she would've done it for the sake of rebelling, no other reason: she had been against their arranged marriage from the start, appalled by the idea of not being free to make a single important choice in her life… and yet now that she had made that choice, the choice of running away and then giving herself to a stranger, she found she had played into fate's hand with each decision she had made. Curses, but that was embarrassing…

"You two are utterly ridiculous," growled Ozai, shaking his head. "The whole city is a pandemonium, looking for you both! Had Chief Hakoda not offered to search nearby islands, in case you had escaped by sea, you would have caused an even bigger ruckus than you did, Azula! Your uncle is up in arms about this, and you know it!"

"He can be up in arms about whatever he wants. If he wanted an alliance with the Water Tribe that badly, he could've looked for an old maid to marry himself…" she growled, though her words were half-hearted by now. Ozai scoffed.

"You forget your place, Azula," he growled.

"Uh… really, don't blame her, please…" Sokka continued, still trying to spare her of the worst consequences, only for Ozai to turn his wrathful glare on him.

"And you? You decided to seduce your future wife and run away with her, is that what you're trying to convince me of?" Ozai hissed. Sokka gulped and lowered his head. "How much sense does it make?! At the very least you could've found other people to run away with, it's completely absurd that you'd choose to run off with each other!"

"Uh, well, we didn't really know who the other was, so…"

"WHAT?!"

Both fathers shouted at the same time, and Sokka grimaced as he stood between them and Azula. It was bad enough that they hadn't bothered confirming the other's identities, no matter how they suspected them… it was even worse that their fathers would react to it as explosively as they did now.

"Oh, goodness… oh, you know what, Ozai? This… it'll be a funny story to share with everyone else once a few years have come and gone," Hakoda said, patting his shoulder. "Let's just look at it this way, shall we?"

"Only if these two fools go back to the Palace and marry each other as they were meant to. Curses, couldn't you wait one week? One week?" he hissed. "It's not much to ask, or were you truly that keen on getting in each other's pants?"

"N-no! Seriously, we didn't know who the other was!" Sokka said, blushing.

"Speak for yourself. I had the feeling it was you all along," Azula sighed. Sokka huffed, turning to pout at her.

"Well, I had the feeling it was you too, but I couldn't know for sure and neither could you!" he squeaked. "Though, I mean… we were running away from each other and ended up running together? I guess? Though, in a sense, we kind of, somewhat, did choose each other, in the end…?"

Well, that couldn't be denied. None of what she'd done since she had met him, two nights ago, had been forced on either of them. They had chosen it all, jumping headfirst into their adventure, wondering just how far they could go together until their respective families caught with them. And while she didn't look forward to moving to the South Pole, to live her life alongside the Chief's heir and spend her days amongst them as a reminder of the alliance between their people and hers, the knowledge that she had found him appealing, interesting and worth running away with before confirming who he was proved to be enough to make the situation slightly less unpleasant… at least, for now.

If things took a turn for the worse, she could always run away, too. But as she gazed at the young man before her, she had the feeling she'd be running with him, wherever she went next.

And that idea didn't bother her in the least, truthfully.

"I guess so," she said, breathing out slowly. "I certainly could do worse, husband-wise…"

"Heh. I'd definitely do worse, wife-wise, if I picked anyone else," Sokka smirked, and she smiled right back.

"Ew," Ozai said, blinking blankly as he averted his gaze from his daughter and her finally accepted destiny.

"Oh, I know she's your daughter, and you didn't want to give her away to anyone, Ozai…" Hakoda laughed, patting his back. "But hey, looks like they gave up! I thought they never would."

"We're going back to the Palace now. And the two of you are going to spend the night in different rooms until your ceremony is done. That's final," Ozai huffed. "Whatever you do after you're married… is your business."

He still shuddered after saying those words, no doubt unwilling to picture whatever two young adults, who were boldly flirt in front of their fathers, might get up to behind closed doors. He had no delusions regarding what had surely transpired in this very room merely a few hours ago…

"Get ready, then. You have five minutes to pick up whatever you've left lying about," Hakoda said. "And don't even think about doing anything crazy, now! There are soldiers all over this property, so you'd better not even consider running away again."

"Say, how did you find us so fast?" Azula asked him. Hakoda grinned and shrugged.

"Water Tribe longboats: not quite as sturdy as your nation's steel ships, but a thousand times faster, I'd say," he snickered. Ozai shot him a disbelieving glare. "By which I mean… I sent all my available ships out to look for you in every nearby island. Your mothers went to Fire Fountain City, Prince Lu Ten accompanied my advisor Bato to Shu Jing…"

"So, it's basically chance that you two decided to come to Ember Island?" Sokka groaned.

"Something like that," Hakoda grinned. "Truthfully, Ozai had a feeling you might have wound up here. He says this has always been a happy place for your family, after all."

He glanced at Azula as he spoke, offering her another proud grin before turning around, clasping Ozai's shoulder and dragging him out of the room. Despite Hakoda's grip was strong, Ozai's head poked through the doorway one more time.

"You have five minutes! Don't you dare do anything further to despoil my daughter's dignity, Prince Sokka!"

"I wouldn't, I wouldn't!" Sokka squeaked nervously, before Hakoda successfully dragged Ozai away.

Sokka sighed, slumping in place before rising back to his full height, smiling awkwardly at Azula. She bit her lip as she gazed at him: he was tall, well-built, and indeed, ridiculously handsome. He was fun to talk to, and he seemed to enjoy kissing her just as much as she had enjoyed kissing him. It was all far too perfect… and who was she to reject perfection when it fell upon her lap as it had this time?

"Is… is your hometown a good place?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow. "It's only… well, I'm a firebender. I don't really know if I'd deal with the cold well. And I know there's been a lot of conflict between our nations, back from the times of the war…"

"That's all water under the bridge at this point," Sokka grinned, "People down there have taken quite the liking to your dad, you know? Because he helped stop the war. I guess that's why I wasn't completely sure about running away, but… it didn't feel right to marry my dad's best friend's daughter just because they felt like setting us up together to strengthen the ties between our nations. I did want to have a chance to choose for myself… otherwise, it feels like they won the war for nothing, to a fault? They set the Avatar free from the iceberg and beat your grandfather, yet the next generation is still expected to do whatever's convenient for political alliances? Granted, things have gotten better for the common folk… but I don't see why people like you or me should be forced to do anything we don't want to."

"Do you still not want it?" she asked. It was his turn to bite his lip before shaking his head.

"I… may have had a change of mind. Though, you know, I would've liked to woo you properly. You know, taking you out on a date, introducing you to my family, like normal people do…"

"I think the last two days could count as a date," Azula smirked. "And… I just met your dad. So I'd hope that counts, to a fault."

Sokka laughed and shrugged, stepping closer to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. Her smile softened as she gazed into those handsome features… oh, she was lucky. She couldn't believe it, but she was absolutely, truly, lucky.

"Do you want to marry me, then?" he asked, his voice small. "I doubt I'm the greatest guy there is, but… I'll be the best husband I can be. If you'll have me."

"I'm not the greatest girl there is either, I literally took you on a trip as stowaways and we stole quite a bit of food from their crates, too. I've turned us both into criminals, haven't I?" she smiled. Sokka chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers. "But… I'll be the best wife I can be, too. Even if an icy pole isn't fun to live in."

"We can take trips to warmer places whenever the cold becomes too much to take," he suggested. "Though there's a few things we can do to warm you up while we're there, too…"

"Oh? Like what?" she asked, teasingly.

Sokka chuckled and leaned in, kissing her again, and once more it was delightful, as jolts of electricity seemed to flow between them. Well, they had resisted the match at first, but it seemed their parents had made the right choice after all. They had been ready to run off together, to live together, to fight together… and now they could do all those things, without having to run away at all. It was the perfect arrangement. Too perfect, perhaps. But who were they to turn down perfection?

Hakoda had to yank Ozai back once they returned to the lounge to find their children locked in a slightly intimate embrace, once the five minutes were done. Of course, the firebender would see red upon witnessing his favorite child, the daughter he treasured, exchanging saliva quite so enthusiastically with his future son-in-law…

"Come on, we knew this would happen, we did. That's the entire reason we let them run off, damn you, stop acting like an angry rhino-bull," Hakoda said, clasping Ozai's shirt's collar and dragging him away from the lounge. Ozai huffed, shaking his head.

"I told you it was a bad idea. I did! Leaving them unguarded so they'd run off together…?" he growled.

"And paying a carriage driver to pick them up after the last carriage was long gone, too," Hakoda grinned. "It was the perfect strategy."

"Up until the point where you didn't have any means to track them down after they stowed away as they did!" Ozai hissed. Hakoda grimaced.

"Well, that was a minor detail, but you figured out this was where they'd head, so no need to make a fuss about my oversight, right?"

"You haven't changed in the least since the war, Hakoda. Not even a little bit. Always with the outlandish plans and ridiculous ideas…"

"Heeeey! Those plans saved our asses, and Aang's, a thousand times! As did my jokes, I'll add…"

"Your jokes? Perhaps it's you who are a joke, Chief Hakoda, altogether…"

"Well now, I'm the joke? Say, who's the one who can't stop throwing hissy fits about his daughter making out with her future husband, huh?"

Ozai growled, covering his face in his hands as the image returned to his mind. Hakoda beamed brightly upon silencing his friend successfully: he had maintained correspondence with Ozai long after the war had ended, they had met up on occasion since then, too. When Fire Lord Iroh, advised by Avatar Aang, had determined that preserving balance ought to be aided by crafting alliances between nations, he had wondered if perhaps a convenient marriage between his son and Ozai's daughter would do the trick. They were both clever since childhood, talented fighters, prone to witty banter that their respective siblings couldn't keep up with… it was, as far as Hakoda could tell, an ideal match. But how to convince them of it?

The idea of allowing their strong-willed children to escape, while subtly directing them towards each other, had come to mind three nights before the Water Tribe delegation arrived in the Fire Nation Capital. Ozai had been horrified by the idea… and more horrified upon realizing Hakoda had set everything in motion long before he could do anything about it. In the end, they had no choice but to wait and hope that Hakoda's insight would have been accurate, and that their children wouldn't despise each other instead of falling in love, as he had hoped they would.

And by now, while walking away from the room where the two soon-to-be spouses continued to profess their growing affections for each other, Hakoda could only grin proudly: Ozai's bad mood notwithstanding, his plan had been an absolute success.

[gay-prentiss]

please read this before you follow <33

hi! im natalya, and while this blog is new, my presence on tumblr is not. ive been on this dump for 18 years. i got into criminal minds last year (october 2020) and i finally decided to make a blog to put everything cm all in one place.

a bit about me:

im 21

im from sydney, australia (timezone is australian eastern standard time)

other than cm, ive been known to hyperfixate on the mcu, atla/tlok, supernatural (although we dont go there in this house), hannibal, dr who etc.

i have adhd and im autistic :)

this blog:

this is just basically a place where i can reblog all the cm stuff like edits, fanfic, blurbs, gifsets etc. id be more than happy for people to send me asks about headcanons, fic recs, popular accounts etc. and we can discuss.

also: please don’t follow me if you’re under 18. that’s my preference as a 21 year old, and i’m allowed to have it.

i have one (1) fic which you can read here

tagging:

nat reads: fic reblogs

visuals: gifs that give heavy spencer vibes

nat answers: asks

nats sadposting: my personal stuff and rants about my mental health and stuff like that.

please note: i am a csa survivor. i do sometimes use this space to vent about it. i will never go into detail, but i do speak about that topic here. if you cannot handle that (which is completely valid), please blacklist nats sadposting.

important: generally important stuff people should at least see and boost

el gee bee tee: important stuff for the gays and the allies

nat rants: any rants i post, whether cm related or not

nat rambles: any original text posts i make

nat writes: my fics! (currently only two, but you never know heh)

nat watches [tv show/movie]: me being annoying every week about watching my other silly little shows.

tw tagging system:

posts that only mention triggers/a trigger is only talked about briefly in passing will be tagged as [insert trigger] mention

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if i ever post/reblog something and you don’t think that it’s tagged properly/appropriately chuck us an ask or dm and i’ll fix it right up!

also, here’s a list of tone indicators! i try to use these as often as i can, however my brain don’t always work right, and i am very forgetful, so if i forget to tone indicate, again, send me an ask or a dm, and i’ll adjust it! (also please im begging yall to use these when communicating with me)

i started a nsfw sideblog, @nsfwbau so any nsfw asks/recs can go to that blog💛

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any hate or anything like that. if ur gonna be straight up horrible about a character/ship/actor/etc. just dont bother because itll just be deleted.

also no homophobia/transpobia/racism or any of that. this blog is intended to be a safe space, so be kind or go away.

if you send me hate on anon, i will rip you to shreds because i cant control myself :)

i hope yall enjoy!

[novantinuum]

Crack the Paragon, Chapter 10

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 5.8K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which Steven's done with moping around and waiting for something to change.

You can find the AO3 link in the reblogs! (I have to omit them from the original post these days to ensure this will show up in the tags.) If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos on AO3 as well.

A big thank you to my friend Ganaroth for helping me with edits for this chapter!

_

Chapter 10: Beta, Part 1

Morning light filters through the loft’s window and glints off his phone screen, obscuring the selfie Connie just sent from his view. Though at some deep cognitive level Steven’s a bit annoyed at this interference, outwardly he moves on automatic with barely a feather ruffled, rolling onto his back atop the rumpled bedspread. He holds his phone above his face— right over his nose— humming as he admires the photo. She’s grinning, her long hair pinned back with clips. Her eyes shimmer with every bit of joy a smile that wide suggests. True happiness. Before he knows it he feels his cheeks lift, a smile of his own stretching across his face to mirror hers.

The rest of the photo is just as beautiful.

Beyond the railing his friend leans on is a breathtaking view of wild grasses, ferns, and delicate purple flowers, the patches of greenery half submerged in a lake of water as far as one can imagine. A large flock of birds float on the water’s surface some distance away. Behind her, the setting sun bathes the sky in streaks of orange and pink, the warmth of the ambient light kissing her brown skin. It looks like something straight out of a storybook.

Either that, or a dream. A good dream, the kind that lingers in your mind afterward like the sweet scent of wild strawberries.

oh, that’s so pretty!! he types in response, fingers flying over the keys. where is this?

Just as he hits send, though, another message from her pushes through and answers his question:

Morning!!! :DD Soooo rn we’re exploring this really cool wetlands area! Service is pretty terrible out here btw, so I probably can’t talk for a bit. Fingers crossed my texts send!

His heart grows warm as he reads her words. Even if it’s not as good as seeing her face to face, he’s still so happy they can communicate while she’s on her trip. She looks like she’s having so much fun. He wastes no time in sending a whole cluster of hearts, stars, and smiley faces back at her.

But as he watches his message deliver, the text’s bubble shifting from grey to blue, he finds that airy, bubbly feeling he got looking at Connie’s photo pulling away from him like sand and driftwood on the receding tides. Somehow, all these emoticon smiles just ring hollow right now.

Four days have passed since the disaster everyone’s come to refer to in whispers as ‘the forge incident.’ Not many, not enough for the terrifying memory of what happened down there amidst the blackened stone and fire to stop seeping into his dreams, but thankfully enough that the Gems have stopped coddling and babying him about it. (A sweet relief, that, and one of the many reasons he’s not planning on telling any of them about his recent nightmares. Goodness knows they already have enough to worry about.) Four days. That’s it. The thought of just how little time that is leaves him dizzy. Four days since he was almost shattered by someone he thought was a friend. Four days since two halves fused back into a whole, since his gem rotated to expose the facets that before, his mo... that Rose had hid from her friends… from the whole world. Four days since discovering that his pupils apparently morph into pink rimmed diamonds now whenever he taps into his powers. (And wasn’t that just another wallop to the gut for everyone, Pearl especially). Four days without Garnet, without stability, without blissful protection from the truth: that Rose wasn’t truly the quartz she claimed she was.

Steven still doesn’t understand the how or the why of that.

Truth be told, it’s not a topic he’s ready to dwell on yet.

He shifts to sit up on his bed. Somewhere on the distant shore beyond the window’s glass Amethyst is shouting, her rhythmic, guttural battle cries loud enough that they’re audible from inside the house. There’s no end to this on the radar. For the past few days she’s done nothing but seclude herself away and drill, pushing her hard light body to the brink through endless strength and agility exercises. In the light of recent difficulties no one’s addressed it with her yet, but it’s no secret this is partly related to her insecurities about Jasper.  

Meanwhile, Ruby (who finally returned home on her own yesterday morning) sits on the floor right below him, handling the controller of his Grintendo console with an iron grip that would serve as a genuine contender in Beach City’s underground arm wrestling league. He set her up on his brand new copy of Fight Fighters just an hour or so ago. As far as he knows, she’s enjoying it. It’s sorta hard to tell. She certainly hasn’t given up yet, (she’s way too stubborn for that), but it seems like the levels are difficult enough that they’re giving her a run for her money. Glancing away from his phone, he watches her fuss with the first boss fight for a moment. The Gem’s face is— if it’s possible— even redder than usual as she mashes the proper buttons for her character’s combo attack, muttering in syllables spoken too low for him to intelligibly understand.

A few minutes pass. Ruby sneaks in one solid strike, but eventually the boss overtakes her by merit of their sheer size alone, and her character is defeated. Game Over flashes on the screen in bold orange striped letters.

“Aw, phooey! You were really close that time,” he says.

Truth be told, her playing style is kinda… a huge mess, but there’s no encouraging way to say that. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie to say she got closer to beating this fight than the last time she attempted it. Maybe she’ll figure it out with a few more rounds.

Ruby drops the controller in her lap, and glances back at him. “Heh. Thanks, Steven,” she responds with a weak smile. “At least I finally got in a hit, right?”

“Yeah, you’re getting better every round! You still up for more? We can play tag team together, if you want.”

“Eh, I’m done for today. I’m no good at these kinda games. At least, not without...“

A wave of melancholy envelops her in a flash, suffocating the last glints of light within her burgundy red irises. Inhaling deeply, she lifts her gemless hand, holding it to her chest tight as she mourns what used to be. Steven doesn’t move to say anything, letting her have her silent moment. Reassurance can be nice, but as he’s learned recently, the sad truth is that sometimes not every problem can be solved with a few well-thought words.

Amethyst’s distant shouts interrupt the somber atmosphere like a jackhammer to concrete, yanking them both solidly back into reality. Ruby’s brow creases.

“Is she still at it out there?” she says, frowning as she glances at the door. “She looked exhausted when she came outta her room this morning.”

Steven frowns, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Yeah. I tried to ask if she wanted to play Topple Tower with me last night, but I’m pretty sure she was ignoring me. I hope she’s okay…”

Sighing, she slumps back against the large swath of comforter that dangles halfway off his mattress, letting her compact, coily hair smush against its surface. “Oh, she’s not. No one in this dang house is. I just wish Sapphire would come back already,” she says, voice cracking as she speaks her name. “She’s been in there for so long now.”

Prompted by her heartbroken words, he glances at the temple door across the house, seeing both Pearl and Sapphire’s gems alight on the central star. Pearl is simply taking a rest in solitude this morning, but as for the blue Gem… she hasn’t shown her face since she disappeared into her room four days ago. It’s beginning to become mighty worrying. And besides, he really misses her. They barely get a chance to hang out beyond the rare emergency. His lip juts out in a small pout.

It’s so hard to move on with life when you’re constantly being reminded of what once was.

Eventually, Ruby decides she’s had enough challenge for the morning and passes command of the controller to him. Figuring he’s got nothing better to do today, he shrugs and starts a new save file. Half an hour or so passes as he grinds through levels like a pro. Now sitting next to him, bundled like a burrito in one of his blankets, the red Gem watches his gameplay with starry eyes, enraptured. He double jabs at the D-pad to call upon a secret ability, fingers blazing across the buttons with practiced fluency. Just as he’s about to hit the finishing blow on Professor Doom, the beach house door slams open. On sheer impulse he flings the controller to free his hands, his whole body seizing upon the sound. Hard plastic clatters against the floor. The world tints pink.

Ruby jolts to attention from inside his bubble, struggling to unwind herself from the blanket's grasp. “Whoa, what’s—“

“Hey, nerds,” Amethyst mumbles, dragging herself and her uncoiled whip through the doorway. The length of the weapon drags along the floorboards like a dejected dog’s tail. Her tired, hardened pupils meet his no doubt diamond-shaped ones, shades of confusion flickering across her expression as she visibly takes note of the shimmering sphere he’s subconsciously enveloped himself in. “Geez, it’s just me.”

“I- I know,” he croaks, flushing red, “s-sorry, I know. You spooked me, ‘s all.”

She squints, and dissipates her whip. “Dude, I didn’t even do anything.”

“I know... It’s just me being dumb, sorry.”

“You’re not dumb,” Ruby reminds him with a saddened frown, placing her gem adorned hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t respond, instead taking a deep breath and willing the bubble to recede. Once it’s all but disappeared in a shimmering afterimage of hard light, he crawls across the floorboards to retrieve his poor abused controller. Joystick securely within his grip once more, his eyes drift back to his game. Seems he’s in dire health. Not only did his character lose his perfect attack window, but Dr. Doom has healed himself and continued to rail upon him while he remained idle. His heart drops.

“Awww,” he whines, deflating. “I almost had ‘im!”

The temple door slides open, causing both Steven and Ruby to snap to awareness. (For wildly differing reasons of course, but the result is the same.) Amethyst stands beyond the warp pad, about to cross the threshold into solitude once more.

Nooo, don’t leave! his heart cries in silence. You just came back!

This conversation is already the most interaction he’s gotten out of her since their waffle breakfast four days ago. Ever since, she’s hidden herself away to brood and train. He scowls, fingers shifting rhythmically on the casing of his game controller. Gosh, he’s so sick and tired of this. He’s tired of moping, of acting like they can never have a happy moment ever again just because their circumstances are different now. It’s not true. Things can get better! Heck, he’ll make it better! Somehow. Maybe. He just needs to figure out a plan, and soon… before everyone scatters to be on their own again.

Hmm, think, Steven, think think think! What makes Amethyst happy? Destroying trash? She’s been at it all morning already, probably not. Food? Wouldn’t necessarily get her out of the temple.

He eyes a green sock puppet strewn on the floor by his closet. Months-old memories rush through his mind, of wearing a cardboard box on his head, insisting amidst protests that this puppet represented the emerging Cluster.

...Peridot?

They did get along really well at Funland a few weeks back. Hmm. Y’know, that might actually work.

“Hey, Amethyst,” he calls, and sets the controller on his bedspread. She stops halfway through the doorway of her room, motionless, seemingly waiting for him to continue. It almost looks as if she wants him to give her a reason to stay outside. “You, uh- are you done training for today?”

“For now,” she answers in a low voice, rhythmically clenching and unclenching her fists.

“D’ya maybe wanna go visit Lapis and Peridot with me? Get outta the house?”

She turns, lips pursed as she deliberates in depth. After what feels like— to his antsy, impatient soul— an eternity later, she responds with a half-hearted shrug.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Steven grins. He scrambles to his feet and floats off the loft to the ground floor before she can decide otherwise. “Sweet, let’s go right now!” he says, bursting with enthusiasm. After crossing the room in a flash, he takes ahold of Amethyst’s arm and gently leads her up the steps to the warp pad, the other Gem making no obvious signs of dissent. Good. That’s a good sign. The immediate problem sorted, he glances back from whence he came. “Ruby, you want in?”

She’s still tangled within his bedding, but shifts upon mention.

“Nah, I’m good,” she says, rolling on her back under the covers so that she’s peering at them upside down. “If Sapphire finally comes out, I wanna be here for that.”

Steven nods. “Okay! Well, see ya’! We’ll be back sometime later this afternoon.”

“Probably,” Amethyst mutters, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, maybe longer, maybe not. We’ll see! Feel free to play any of my games if you wanna, okay?”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, ya’ party animal,” the quartz drones, the bite of dull sarcasm seeping into her words.

With a resounding ring the warp activates and whisks them away.

_________

The young half-Gem takes a deep lungful of air as he skips through the grassy countryside, his chest expanding to full capacity. Ah, it feels so good to be outside, and with a change of scenery, at that! He should’ve done this ages ago.

Outside of all the heartache of their recent family crisis, it’s a perfect September day; not too warm and not too blustery. The sky’s almost entirely clear, barring the faint streaks of white softening the horizon's edges. Birds chirp brazenly as they swoop with daring purpose from tree to tree. A few leaves are just beginning to flutter down from their overstuffed boughs. ‘Tis the season! Pretty soon this area will be awash with sprinkles of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. Gee, he hopes he can convince Amethyst to goof off in the woods with him again this year. They could go leaf sledding! That was the most fun he’d had in ages when they did it last time.

How is Amethyst doing, anyways?

Masking his worried frown, he glances behind. Her lips press in a sour scowl, her non-dominant hand clenched by her side. Barely a heartbeat passes as she reaches to her gem with the other, pulling her whip into existence in a glittering flash of light. Instantaneously, the crystal tips of the three-pronged flail expand into barbed spheres. She mutters to herself as she grips the handle, unsatisfied. He doesn’t understand why, though? She summoned it so fast! Like, under a second for sure. As far as he’s concerned, that’s awesome!

He watches her summon, dissipate, and re-summon her whip three times in a row before he decides it's time to intervene with her spiraling frustration.

“Hey, don’t ya’ wanna take a break from all that for a bit?” he begins with a measure of caution. “You’ve been working super hard lately!”

“I already am taking a break," she says, slashing at a few rocks strewn on the ground as they climb the last rolling hill. “That’s why I’m here with you, right?”

“Well sure, but breaks aren't supposed to be about training, they’re supposed to be about having fun. And visiting Peridot and Lapis should be tons of fun, I promise!”

Amethyst’s eyes narrow at the very thought. “Yeah, ‘cause when I think fun, I think Lapis.”

“Hmm, I wonder what they’re up to lately,” he muses out loud, hand pressed to his chin.

She lets out a dry scoff, allowing her whip to dissipate once more. “Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s just get this over with.”

He frowns. His shoulders drooping a bit at the sight of her almost hostile melancholy, he glances away.

Thankfully, in a well-timed diversion from the worries of her mental state, Lapis and Peridot’s place of settlement comes into full view as they reach the hill’s summit. Steven’s jaw falls ajar, stopping in his tracks at the sight. (Amethyst, who isn’t paying attention to where she’s walking amidst her brooding, almost rams into the back of him.)

“Whoa,” he says, drinking in the new additions. “Look what they did to the barn!”

He’s not sure ‘barn’ is an apt description for it anymore. No, no. Rather, in the weeks since he last saw Lapis and Peridot, this place has transformed into a full-out homestead.

The grain silo that stood nearby has been tilt at an angle and used to enclose the side of the barn Peridot blew a hole in with her epic giant robot. Their smaller than average lake? It’s now fitted with a ladder, along with metal piping to keep the water level high. Stretched taut between the roof of that silo and a funky hodgepodge spire they formed out of old airplane parts is a clothes line, with a number of shirts and towels hanging off it. Admiring the finer details of their set up, if a person could point at an object and conceivably call it junk, they’ve probably found a creative way to make it decorative. Rusty bicycles, old tires, couch cushions, broken deer antlers, you name it. And then that old truck he slept in every night while working on the drill? It now serves as the proud centerpiece of their little home, the cargo bed solidly affixed above the barn’s entrance. He spots the two former Homeworld Gems sitting up there with the TV, shaded from the midmorning glow with a sun bleached umbrella. Whatever they’re watching, they’re transfixed.

Grinning, he peels away from Amethyst and dashes the rest of the way, feeling the faint breeze dance between his curls. Wow wow wow, he’s seriously got like a hundred questions for them, and a hundred missed hugs to make up for!

“Hey, guys!” he calls, once he’s directly below the truck.

Lapis’s browline raises, attention nabbed. It’s enough to peel her eyes away from the television (is that Camp Pining Hearts he hears??) to meet his. A subtle but undoubtedly caring smile rushes across her face as she sprouts wings and drops from the truck’s bed to greet him.

“Steven! It's so good to see y- oof!”

He nearly barrels her over with his hug, clutching to her like a lone life raft in the midst of the open sea. Surprised and still quite rigid in her affections, her arms awkwardly move to pat his back in return. It’s a silent embrace on his part, yet simultaneously manages to say more than words alone ever could. At this point he’s not even sure words could do justice to the complex emotions that are all jumbled in his head. Only a few short weeks have passed since they hung out together. So why then does he feel like he hasn’t seen either of them in years?

“Steven, Amethyst!” Peridot chimes eagerly, dropping down from the truck and striding out into the sun. She screeches to a halt in front of them, expression pressing inwards in that uniquely inquisitive Peridot-like manner as she takes inventory of the scene before her. “Uhm… Is… everything okay?”

He pulls back from the stunned Lapis, and gently wipes at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, I’m just really, really happy to see you guys, that’s all!”

“Oh, yes! Of course. It’s only natural to miss the fulfillment of our company,” she says without missing a beat. Turning her gaze to her other visitor, the green Gem balls her hand against her chin. “Amethyst! Something looks different about you…”

She crosses her arms over the white tank top of her new form, her nose scrunching up. “Like what?”

“Have you grown taller since the last time I saw you?”

Amethyst’s eye twitches. An infinitude of silence passes, in which she shoots her a glare sharper than the edges of the crystal studs on her whip. Honestly, being on the receiving end of her weapon might’ve hurt less. Sweat beads at his brow as he watches the situation unfold, yearning with every fiber of his being for a world where he actually feels confident enough to delicately intervene instead of silently standing by as Peridot’s sense of tact veers straight off a cliff.

Behind them, Lapis saves them both and clears her throat.

“O-or… maybe I was mistaken,” the former kindergartener says lowly, flushing with shame. “My apologies.”

There’s a whisper of chill to the air enough to make him shiver as the quartz once more chooses not to respond, and shifts her gaze to her feet. She digs divots into the dirt with her toes, already disengaging from social interaction again, slipping further away with every passing birdsong from the entire purpose of this friendly visit. He presses his lips tight, masking a frown. So far, nothing is going as planned, huh? As big of a dreamer he may be, he can’t say he’s surprised. Nothing in his life has gone to plan since he accidentally slipped on that tree branch inside Lion’s mane. Still, there’s gotta be some way to save this, right?

Come on, Steven, think positive!

Before anyone can quite begin to catch on to his troubled nature, he plasters a manufactured smile on his face. “Wow, you guys are looking good!” he says cheerily. “And I love what you did to the barn!”

“Aww! I know,” she replies, regaining her grin as she glances between him and Lapis. “But wait, wait! You guys have to see the inside!”

And with this declaration, a few magical minutes pass wherein the two of them receive the highest honor of enjoying the Official Barn Grand Tour, presented by the very artists themselves. In a word, it’s a transformative experience. The outside looks amazing, yes, but in his wholehearted opinion the personal touches on the interior decor raises the place’s coziness to the next level. Over the past few weeks, Peridot and Lapis have spent their efforts transforming all the mementos and broken scraps of their lives into art, (or ‘meep-morp,’ as Lapis calls it), displaying the pieces all throughout their shared home. Peridot’s broken audio recorder now rests peacefully on a stand, a sky blue ribbon tied around the fractures at its middle. Touchingly, he learns that Lapis kept the leaf he gave her, delicately propping it upright in a clump of soil. A TV affixed to the ceiling beams with metal cables plays a clip of CPH on repeat. He has a niggling suspicion that the clip she selected represents her lingering trauma about, like... being trapped in a mirror for thousands of years, but according to her it’s merely a fan’s shrine of the show. Still, while discussing books together Connie once told him that all art is subjective and authorial intent is dead, so respectfully he’s sticking to his interpretation. But regardless of its meaning, he’s so, so happy to see her freely making things for herself.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the creative spectrum, Peridot’s green alien plush is floating alongside various hunks of garbage in the hodgepodge aquarium at the side wall. Its slow voyage through the tank is admittedly entrancing, but oh, do those big deep eyes grow more and more unnerving the longer he stares at them. The last straw comes when he watches stuffing slowly drift out of a gaping hole in the fabric at its neck. Subtly cringing, he takes a step back from the glass to go admire something else. Sometimes art isn’t made for everyone, and that’s okay.

It takes a few moments before he makes the proper connections and realizes that the red bow tie Peridot is wearing around her neck used to be that plush’s. Oh… oh geez.

Amethyst, however, doesn’t seem to be buying any of it. In fact, she’s barely cracked a smile since they entered the barn, not even at Peridot and Lapis’ collaborative toilet morp. And who doesn’t laugh at toilets? On any normal day she’d eat that kind of stuff right up.

“This is so stupid,” she mutters, her eyes thin slits as she stares with a frustratingly unreadable expression at the four liquid pillars shooting up out of the bowls.

Disappointment flickers across Lapis’ face like stars on the morning horizon. She quickly releases her iron hold on the water, channeling it into the heart of the tanks. A similar emotion colors Peridot’s features for a moment, and he briefly worries their visit may be cut off short, but after meeting his encouraging glance she shakes it off and promptly begins to move on to the next item of their home tour.

“Alright,” she says, folding her hands behind her back all prim and proper, “I see you're not impressed. But—“

“Hey, you guys!” a familiar voice shouts from the distance, growing closer and closer with each passing moment. “I’m here! I came! Is it too late to join in?”

All four of them whirl around at the interruption.

Peridot squints. “Is that…”

“Ruby?” Lapis finishes, confusion etched across her features with pinpoint precision.

“Ruby!” Steven calls, sliding across the floorboards to meet her at the barn door. “No, you're not late, you’re just in time! Look, look, look—“ He takes her by the hand and whisks her inside, almost sweeping her clear off her feet in the process.

Her mouth falls agape as she drinks in the rustic atmosphere, the air now a good deal lighter thanks to her interruption.

“Whoa… this place looks completely different!”

“I know, right??” he says with an untamable grin. He gestures wildly at all of their unique creations. “It’s art! Isn’t it great? Peridot and Lapis have been showing us all this super cool stuff they’ve made!”

“Yes, I suppose we are pretty great,” the green Gem says, puffing out her chest.

Lapis rolls her eyes in response. No amount of sass can hide the action’s underlying fondness, though. Steven’s no imperceptive fool. She may act pretty aloof at times, but once you get to know her she’s not that hard to read at all. One merely has to pay attention to the subtle shifts in her demeanor. It’s the little things: the incline of her brow, a slight tilt of the head, the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it twitch of her lips as she pretends she doesn’t care as much as she does. And then, the more she trusts you, the less tense her posture is and the more she opens up. It makes his heart sing to know that Peridot has seemingly been added to that roster.

“Eh,” she murmurs with the hint of a smile, leaning back against the wall behind her roommate. “I guess we’re okay.”

Amethyst crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she peers down at Ruby. “So, what’s up with you? I thought you said you wanted to mope at the temple.”

She shuffles her feet. “Well…”

“And I thought you and that Sapphire never unfused,” Lapis says, ever so blunt. “Except... for baseball,” she hastily amends. Consumed by a spike of panic, her gaze darts towards the doorway with guarded suspicion. “We don’t have to play baseball again... right?”

“Hmmm… I mean, we could play baseball,” Steven muses, pressing his hand to his jaw.

That’s certainly one way he could encourage Amethyst to enjoy some bonding time with everyone. He has a bunch of fond memories of the last game they played together. Well, okay, so maybe he could’ve done without the ceaseless feeling of dread brought by batting against Homeworld loyalists with unknown intentions, but beggars can’t be choosers. As his first time playing a full game it was still 70% a good time.

Meanwhile, Peridot’s petite frame quivers at the reminder of that day. She grips at her hair, large tufts of yellow poking out from between her fingers.

“Oh my stars, they’re coming back??”

Ruby throws her a bemused side glance. “Uh—“

“Get behind me, Lapis,” she continues, daringly throwing her body in front of her roommate. “I’ll protect us from those Homeworld brutes this time!”

“We’re not playing baseball!” Amethyst cuts in.

His lips curl into a pout. “Aw, but it’d be so much fun!”

She crosses her arms, visibly walling herself off. “Uh, no, it wouldn’t! ‘Sides, there’s no immediate danger, there’s no Homeworld Rubies on our doorstep, so there’s NO reason on this planet I’d play that stupid game again!”

Eyes narrowing with mild exasperation, Lapis nudges her way out from the green Gem’s overprotection. “‘Kay. So, is anyone here actually gonna explain what’s going on, or?”

Nervously rocking on her heels next to him, Ruby rests her hand against her chin.

“Well…”

“Ruby and Sapphire are kinda… taking some time apart?” he delicately explains in her steed, noticing her hesitation. It’s probably something that’s really hard for her to talk about right now, and boy can he relate to that.

“Yeah,” she says in confirmation, kicking her toes against the floor boards. “I didn’t exactly want to, but Sapphy needs her space.”

For all her initial dislike of the fusion Gem, Peridot looks genuinely heartbroken at this revelation. “But… why?” she asks, peering between the three Crystal Gems in wait of further clarification. “Aren’t you two basically inseparable?”

Faint hints of lemon peel and nutmeg linger in the air like silent sentries to their distress. Steven stands in the kitchen with Pearl, Garnet, and his dad, Amethyst lounging on the other side of the counter, and their dirty breakfast dishes still lying stagnant in the sink. Garnet’s kneeling before him. She’s speaking, but he’s so distraught he can’t quite recall what it is she said. His dad’s hand rests on his shoulder, the pressure ever so slightly working to ground him to this moment again. He’s biting back tears, isn’t he? Trying not to cry for the umpteenth time that day. What happened? What changed? Everything’s fixed, yeah? He’s whole again! They were all supposed to be so happy now, and yet… the sight of the morning sun reflecting off the face of Garnet’s visor as she delivers that ill-fated news is the bitter, tangible proof that they’re not.  

“Ruby and Sapphire have decided they want to take some time apart. Indefinitely.”

Amethyst’s expression is colored with hurt. “But… why?”

In the present he stiffens, suddenly polarized by the realization that the path of this conversation has but one destined endpoint. Sooner or later, his friends will hear about what happened to him four days back, what happened to his family, what he learned about his... about Rose. There’s no avoiding this forever. After all, if they don’t learn it from him, they’ll eventually learn it from someone else. And don’t they deserve to know? This affects them too!

But if the recent past has taught him anything, it’s that the truth about Rose Quartz only succeeds in breaking people apart. It stole Garnet away. It shook his relationship with Amethyst and Pearl to the core. It caused them all to argue and fight, back at the fountain and at home. Give it time, and he’s sure the truth will find a way to press fissures in his relationships with Connie and Dad, too. So what happens, then, when Peridot and Lapis find out? In what way will the truth break them?

Just a little while longer, he promises himself. Just one more good day, please, that’s all I want…

“They, um- it’s just a couples thing,” he stammers, chest growing tight. “It’s just for a little bit. Sometimes people need time away from each other, y’know?”

Ruby‘s expression grows tense, sniffing out his white lie from a mile away. “Steven...“

“It’s totally healthy and normal, and not at all a reason for concern!”

“Kinda sounds like we should be concerned,” Lapis mutters. “All of you have been acting weird this whole time, so spill! What’s going on?”

Their words start to become faint and distant in the shadow of his wildly pounding heart, so wondrously human and organic and alive, and yet so endlessly frustrating in its autonomy. Why can’t he hear clearly? What’s up with that awful ringing he can’t get rid of? It’s almost as if he’s listening to everyone ten feet under choppy waters, but they’re all standing right next to him. They’re right there.

The red Gem scratches at her neck, meeting Amethyst's harsh, crystal-studded glance first. Her mouth opens. Still disorientated, Steven misses a good half of it.

“...wants to tell ‘em?” she finishes, waiting dutifully for their responses.

As expected the quartz remains silent on the matter, feigning indifference as she crosses her arms and returns to staring sullenly into the middle distance. Ruby turns to him next. His skin feels downright clammy now, almost as bad as it did when he was almost dyi— NO! Stop! He shakes his head fervently, sweeping his hands horizontal in a signal for her to cut the conversation. He can’t do this. Not now, not today, not ever, he can’t—

Lapis bristles. “Tell us what?”

“Um, nothing, nothing!” he bursts out, clumsy words pouring from his mouth almost quicker than his brain can move to stack them up. “It’s a long story, and we’re all here to have some fun and shoot the breeze, right? Right. ‘Course we are! So we don’t have to talk about that right now, we can talk about it later, and for now we should try to have a good time and enjoy each other’s compa—“

Amethyst slams her foot to the floor so hard the wooden board underneath cracks. Both Steven and Lapis flinch.

“Ughh, you guys! Stop dancing around the headline!” she shouts. “You really wanna know what happened? Steven almost died ‘cause he got his gem busted, and then we found out Rose Quartz was totally a sham and she’s like, Pink Diamond n’ junk, okay?!”

A stunning silence follows this inopportune announcement, in which he swears he can hear his stomach gurgle. On any typical day he'd be thinking about lunch around this time, except at the moment he genuinely almost feels sick to his stomach. Right now he wants nothing more than to turn tail and run, run away from all of this, and yet chained to his fate just as Lonely Blade was destined to his, his legs remain firmly shackled in place. Standing at his side, Peridot blinks in dumbfounded shock.

“What.”

“S-she’s- You’re a DIAMOND??” Lapis shrieks, water wings shooting from her back on impulse.

“Whaaaat?”

_______

Notes: 

The next few chapters will be a bit familiar to y'all, but I'm not doing a beat for beat rehash, I assure you. Events start similarly here because the world external to Steven’s sphere of influence is still operating the same as it does in canon. The ripples haven’t fully spread yet. After this arc, they absolutely will have.

I do have a bonus scene to share soon- set between chapters 9 and 10. I'll likely post that before chapter 11.

Oh, and by the way- the location Connie's visiting is inspired by a real place- the Harike Wetlands in Punjab, India. Apparently India is actually a series of islands in the SU universe...? But I like to believe there’s still a cool wetlands region on one of those islands.

[tarontherocketman]

Mr Madden | Madderton Teacher AU | Chapter 1

Ok SO, here’s the first chapter, I know it’s boring and short but just bear with me I didn’t want to jump straight into the action and drama because I genuinely haven’t written fanfiction since I was a teenager (I’m 22!) so I needed to familiarise myself with writing again and re-establish my writing style it’s a little bit choppy right now but I’ll get there over the next few chapters! Anyway, here goes! lowkey nervous that it’s been too long since I wrote and everyone will hate it

Taron sat in an empty classroom chewing mindlessly on the end of a pen, a stack of unmarked homework in front of him that he was already 95% sure he would be taking home with him tonight if this day didn’t get any better. Why did Drama students even need to do homework like this? They have enough homework from all the other classes, Drama should be their slice of freedom and self expression for the week, that’s how Taron saw it anyway. Of course, he could never say this aloud, he had to follow the system regardless of whether he liked it or not. After a small argument in his head about staying focused, Taron finally put pen to paper and began to write, not even writing one single letter before-

“For fuck sake,” he groaned quietly, forcing himself out of the chair and kicking it back behind him as he got up and walked to the door and around the building to the window he had just spotted it out of, another fight.

“Ok break it up lads come on,” he said sternly, not even needing to fully intervene with the wannabe hard nut year 7s. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry Sir!” they both said hurriedly as they scuttled off around the corner, afraid of receiving a detention. Taron rolled his eyes and sauntered back to his classroom, not even reaching the door before deciding he needs a coffee before he can even think of marking more homework. At this thought, he veers away from the door to the drama block to head toward the main building to the teachers lounge, muttering a polite “alright” accompanied with a small nod to the students greeting him as he walked down the hallway. Said students, of course, being girls. The girls all had a thing for him and he knew it, he saw the way they all gushed at him. Little did they know. 

“Have you seen the new History teacher?” a girl in the hallway squealed to her friend as she stood leaning against the wall, phone in one hand, bright pink bedazzled water bottle in the other. Taron’s ears pricked up, new History teacher? he thought, picking up the pace to the staff room to find out what was going on. Once he arrived, he pushed the door handle and poked his head round the door before fully entering. That’s when he saw him.

New History teacher, indeed..

In front of his eyes was the most gorgeous blue eyed man he had ever seen, thick lush brown hair with just the right amount of curl, perfect body, nice legs-

“Ah, Mr Egerton! Meet Mr Madden, he’s just joined today to replace Mr Little in the History department!” the excessively perky Head Teacher exclaimed, waving rather over enthusiastically towards the blue eyed beauty.

“Richard,” he introduced, extending his hand to Taron.

Scottish, as if he wasn’t dreamy enough.

“I- nice to meet you, I’m Taron, Drama,” Taron just about spluttered out, going in for the handshake offered, looking to the floor for lack of a better place to look without dying inside a little. Taron mentally pinched himself, he knew he needed to stop feeling like this. He vowed to himself as soon as he got this job that he’d keep out of anything of this sort, the last thing he needs is the entire school finding out he’s gay, so with this in mind he generally keeps his head down and lays low. Does his job, goes home. He can’t get soft for a teacher now after he’s come this far without screwing up and letting his guard down.

“Drama? I admire your confidence,” Richard commented with a smile. Taron chuckled softly.

“Not your thing?” he asked.

“Nah, just getting in to teaching was far enough out of my confidence zone! It’s done me a lot of good though- sorry I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” Richard stopped himself suddenly, a bit flustered.

“No no don’t worry,” Taron assured, “coffee?” he offered, gesturing as he walked over to the small staff coffee machine to make his own.

“Yeah would love one, thanks” Richard replied. Taron grabbed an extra mug for Richard, pouring two coffees from the pot that had already been prepared by the other staff who were coming and going from the cosy staff room. Taron handed Richard a coffee and the two naturally gravitated to a pair of chairs sat by the window.

“So, History?” Taron sparked up a conversation.

“Yeah!” Richard laughed softly, habitually rubbing the back of his neck. “I just got interested in it I guess, not sure I remember how..” he began to trail off, taking a long sip of coffee, “I actually used to be interested in acting.”

“Ahh my speciality,” Taron smirked, “what happened to that?” Richard sighed heavily, taking another sip of coffee.

“Ah I just don’t have the confidence,” he admitted.

“That’s fair enough mate, takes a lot of that I have to admit,” Taron nodded slowly, “never know, maybe one day!” Richard looked down and made a small ‘hmm’ sound with a smile. The pair sat in peace finishing their coffee before Richard placed his hands on his legs and sighed, signalling that it was time for him to get going.

“First class?” Taron asked gently.

“Yeah..I’m really nervous not gonna lie,” Richard confessed, feeling his cheeks go slightly pink.

“Aw don’t worry mate you’ll be absolutely fine, first one’s the worst. Do you have another teacher there observing you?”

“I do, and I’m not sure if that’s making me feel better or worse,” Richard replied, Taron laughed and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll walk you there if you like?” he offered.

“I would actually love that I’m still finding my way around,” Richard replied gratefully, standing up to put his coffee cup in the sink and walk to his new classroom with Taron, making small talk on the way there such as ‘what are the students like?’ or ‘are the other teachers nice?’ questions which Taron had elaborate answers for but not enough time to tell all his stories about, which resulted in him awkwardly asking Richard if he would maybe want to meet up for a drink at some point so he can “tell him his many stories”. Richard quickly agreed, which actually surprised Taron.

“Great, yeah, cool, I’ll talk to you soon then and we can..you know, arrange..something,” Taron stumbled very ungracefully and not near as smoothly as he thought that would sound in his head before he said it, inwardly facepalming.

“Yeah yeah good shout, see you later,” Richard smiled warmly, disappearing into his new classroom, pretending not to be trembling ever so slightly.

Later that night

Taron was curled up at the end of his sofa, iPad in his lap ready to open Facebook to try and find Richard and have a small social media stalk just to see his face again, those big blue eyes were calling him. He racked his brain for his surname, what was he introduced as? It definitely began with an M. He began typing ‘Richard M’ hoping facebook would magically know who he was searching for, but Richard was too common of a name. 

“Mm…M…Mmm, ma?” he thought aloud before pausing suddenly, “Madden!” he sighed, rolling his eyes at his own forgetfulness. He typed in the name and found him pretty easily. Excitedly clicking on his profile and doing the obligatory flick through the profile pictures, short scroll down the feed, clicking on some pictures he’d been tagged in, asking himself if this was creepy or if everyone did it. Or both. He also mentally noted to himself to remind Richard that now he’s a teacher, changing his privacy settings would be a very smart idea, some of those students are crazy, especially for young male teachers like Richard and Taron.

Cute Taron thought to himself, zooming in on a group photo when he spotted Richard chilling in the far left of it. He came out of the picture and hovered his finger over the  ‘add friend’ button, wondering if it was too soon. At that moment, as if in some sort of cartoon or movie, the bread he had put in the toaster a few minutes ago suddenly popped up, making him jump and press the button by accident. How does that even happen? He definitely looked too eager adding him already but it was done now, no point cancelling the request in case Richard already had his phone in his hand, that would be even more weird. Taron put his iPad to the side to grab his toast, buttering it and bringing it back to the sofa, noticing his iPad light up with a message. He hurriedly sat down and ignored the toast he had just made, picking the iPad up hastily and opening the message.

1 new message: Richard Madden Richard: hey, again x

“Heh,” Taron chuckled, loving a guy that puts a single kiss at the end of a message, deciding he should reflect his message the same way.

Taron: hey you x

Taron flinched after hitting send, realising suddenly how weird that sounded.

Richard: ha, ‘you’ love that x

Taron: yea sorry wasn’t thinking haha x

Richard: no you’re fine it’s sweet! when are we going for that drink then? x

Taron: well when are you free?x

Richard’s typing bubble appeared, disappeared and reappeared quite a few times suggesting he was on the fence about his answer, a quirk which Taron found quite cute. 

Richard: ...tomorrow night?x

Taron: yep definitely up for that! How did your first day go by the way? Didn’t end up seeing you for the rest of the day x

Richard: yeah was all good definitely didn’t need to be as nervous as I was x

Taron: nice one knew you’d smash it mate! Anyway I better eat the toast that I forgot about and get to bed, bright and early for school tomorrow!x

Richard: I know right feels weird saying school tomorrow again but as a teacher now not a student, sure I’ll get used to it, night T x

“T, I like that..” Taron thought, should he nickname Richard too? It only seemed fair..

Taron: night Rich x

Taron lay his iPad down on the table for the last time that day, shovelling toast in his mouth before taking his plate to the kitchen to wash up and get settled for bed, trying to ignore the slight feeling of butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about his drink with Rich the following night, this might be a doorway into the exact thing he promised himself not to do when he started this job, but he couldn’t resist. 

________________________________________________________

Tag list: @taron-eggmcmuffin

[lucarioisinthevoid]

AHHHHHHH I HAVE IDEA!!

How about Henry interacting with Helpy and the “annoying” Ultimate Custom Night characters! Maybe throw in Funtime Freddy!! Helpy could be his son or maybe Bon Bon reincarnated! Just sheer silliness and stupidity :p

Animatronics: Bonnie, BB, JJ, Phantom BB, Phantom Mangle, Phantom Freddy, Old Man Consequences, Trash and the Gang, Helpy, El Chip, Funtime Chica and Phone Guy! (Sorry, no Funtime Freddy here, wasn’t an option- though I don’t mind adding characters that aren’t an option, I would just had to write around that a little more, so I didn’t want to go all in. Events and surroundings all randomly generated like this in-game! Just with slight adjustments for a bit of writing flow). (Special note: This is an experiment. This is a whole ass chapter. Tumblr might not be the right place for it, but I have no better place to put it. If you have an idea on what would work better, I’d love to hear it, but for now this is just it. If you don’t want to read a long chapter, you should probably not press “read more” Honestly, this might not be as much fun as I imagined it to be, I’m terrible at making fun events, heh. If it is, take solace in the fact that it might be the only chapter of this kind on this blog.)

Henry groaned, his bones sending agony through his nerves. It felt like his insides had splintered and were now stuck in his flesh. His throat was burning, but he managed to open his eyes. He was- somewhere. At least it was a place. That was actually news, good news, last time he hadn’t been that lucky after all. Having a couch below him and a room surrounding him was actually a deep relief- it was a room he didn’t have to create himself. Sitting up, he looked around. It seemed to be some sort of employee lounge, a coffee machine, a tv and a couch, with lockers against the walls. A few posters painted the walls. -CELEBRATE!- They said, over and over again. Henry showed his teeth, a grin with no hint of amusement. “… that is what you would like to do, huh?” Standing up he stumbled a little, but the pain only served to keep him awake and grow his confidence. It HURT. And it was GOOD. It hurt, his body hurt, HIS BODY was REAL and in PAIN. When he left to the outside, he was surprised to see that he was inside of one of the oldest locations- at least in form. He was standing beside where the stage was supposed to be, coming from where the saferoom used to be, but to his surprise instead of a stage it was a giant price corner, filled with all sort of plushies and other goodies. Sweets and candies, candles, little gadgets… … and a silver coin among them. It shined and felt oddly… powerful. Ten Faztokens. The other things didn’t even have a price tag, so he decided that he would check back on that later. All items were hidden behind a thin glass wall and he wasn’t sure if he could break through it. Maybe he should try later. Moving further down, he realized a few more things were different- There were TWO pirate coves in the main area and- ‘Pssssst… hey… I have something to tell you…’ Abruptly Henry turned around. Where had that voice come from?! ‘Hey… hey, down here…’ It seemed to come from one of the hallways, leading down to the office. As quick as he possible could, he followed the source of the noise, the mysterious whispers slowly growing louder. ‘It is really… really… important…!’ Finally, he was near the supply closet, looking around. “Hello? Where are you? Who are you? What is this place?” The questions broke out of him more erratically than he wanted them too, the desperation and quiet panic bubbling under the thin veil of cold control- it was almost cracking out of him. ‘Pssssst…’ He spotted a little crate with eyes, and leaned down to investigate- Suddenly a loud noise! The thing was all up in his face, making a low noise, pure bass, causing his head to HURT, but not enough that he would have to hold his ears- Just enough that it shook his skin uncomfortably, from the inside out. Stumbling backwards, he shook his head, the crate had disappeared, leaving him with a headache and burning aggression, so potent that his throat felt sore, as though he had screamed from the top of his lungs… despite not a single noise having come out of him. Moving inside of the office, he was somewhat stunned. It looked like a bedroom. With closet and everything. The wallpaper and whole atmosphere felt… old. A child’s bedroom… except there was an office desk, with a fan, a microphone and a weird little action figure of Bonnie on top of it. Some air ducts were hanging into the room and there were- multiple vents, two doors- A flashlight. Quickly he grabbed it. Great- now all he needed was a taser and maybe he would feel like- “… Henry Miller…” A raspy voice sounded to the side of him, causing him to make a few steps back. In front of him, a creature was forming, a Freddy, burned and see through- It grinned. “… long time… no see…” “I have never met you.” “… your memory is failing you, Mr. Miller…” At this point it seemed to become more and more corporeal, reaching out to the table, its paws scraping over and only slightly moving through the material. Turning to the Pink Guy, he opened his maw a little, nothing visible inside. It was getting ready… “… that’s on you however-“ A squeaky voice sounded. “Maybe you should shine your light at him, Mr. Miller!” Instantly, the flash of his light ripped through the ghostly Freddy, who was quite disgruntled to say the least. “… Helpy… you are supposed to help US.” With that he vanished, giving Henry the chance to turn to around and see who’s mysterious helper was. His eyes fell on a little walking bear standing on the blue shelf, trying to hide between the purple fan. “Whoops…” “… who are you? Can you EXPLAIN this place to me?!” “I’m Helpy! Don’t you remember me, Henry?” Fully irritated the Pink Guy stepped back. “No. No, I did not make you. I THOUGHT about making you, but I never did!” “Oh my, Henry, you must have fallen on your head!” Helpy laughed. “But- I can’t help you actually. Everyone else will be mad! So I won’t tell you how the other people here work!” “Can you at least tell me who exactly these ‘others’ are?!” “Uhm… no. I don’t think so.” Slowly he was reaching behind him for something- But Henry couldn’t worry about it, as a phone suddenly started ringing. Shoving off the bear off the shelf (resulting in a little squeak), he tried to find the source of the noise, his head throbbing. He thought he shortly saw a “mute call” button pop up, but as soon as he saw it, it was already gone. Instead a receiver just- fell from the ceiling, randomly. How? Who KNEW- “Uh- hello? Hello, hello?” “… Phone Guy?” “Scott. Uh- anyways- uh, anyways, I wanted to record a message for you, to help you get settled in on your first-“ “This is not a recording. You just interrupted me. And why would there be a phone RINGING if you were to play a recording!?” For a moment it was quiet, then Scott started laughing. “You never changed, did you?” Irritated Henry skipped past that question, having more urgent matters to talk about. “Scott. Good old Scott. Listen, I think I am in some level of hell.” Dumbfounded there was silence on the other end, while the ghostly Freddy tried to reform, being instantly shooed away by the light. Until finally- “… yes of course. Of COURSE you’re in hell, Henry. Uh. What did you expect?” “I-“ “No, no, no, let’s uh- let’s talk about this. Where did you THINK you are? Because, uhm- not sure how to say this, but- uh- I DIED and I’m in HEAVEN right now and you DIED, sooo… uh- yeah.” “I am glad we talked about this. I cannot recall how I GOT here, however. And everyone seems to know me.” Displeased he shined the light at the grinning grimace of the phantom, before he could even fully form. “Yeah… uh… can’t help you. Actually, I have to go. You don’t have a noise activated animatronic around, do you?” “A- what?” “Hm. Too bad. Talk to you later!” “Wait-“ But before he could say anything else, the connection was cut, and his camera system was blinking up red. ‘Catch a fish!’ the title said, his head becoming dizzy as he watched the little red thing move from one side to the other. Wait, that wasn’t just- the noise and the flashing, the air was getting harder and harder to breathe! … smells like brimstone. He managed to catch the fish, albeit just barely, then opened the camera feed, where a warning sign was blinking. The camera itself was completely covered by another phantomlike animatronic, the Mangle this time. Shortly he blinked at it, shaking his head, then clicking the button that said ‘RESET VENTILATION’. A gust of fresh air instantly blew through the location, allowing him to finally breathe again properly. The fan itself seemed useless- he deactivated it. Having climbed back up, Helpy was back on the shelf, looking at him happily. “Are you having fun?” For a moment Henry looked at him, shining away the Freddy once more. “… no.” Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted Balloon Boy, staring at him with his terrible grin. Instantly he hit the button to shut the door, a dull thud coming from it right away. At least that one gave him a hint of satisfaction, pleased with the mental image that the obnoxious plastic abomination ran face-first into the metal wall. “But you look like you have fun!” Helpy reached behind him, before Henry shoved him over again, still not interested in what he was hiding. “You are TERRIBLE at reading emotions then. A useless AI.” Pouting Helpy sat beside the shelf, not answering this time around. Looking around, Henry got comfortable in his chair, slowly growing… a little bit hot. Huh. Seemed like the fan wasn’t entirely useless after all. Maybe it kept the heat from the hell around them away. … what an image… a Freddy’s in the middle of a fire-y pit. He hoped it wasn’t the case. That would make getting out a lot more complicated. “Is this all I have to deal with?” Henry asked Phantom Freddy, who chose not to answer, but only smile grimly. “… I can live with that.” Leaning back, he quickly flipped up the screen once more resetting the ventilation and shutting the vent to the side one more time for good measure. Again, a bonk. Hopefully Balloon Boy. He relaxed. A routine would form easily. Shine your light, reset the vent, keep the generator going, close the side vent for a while. At least for now the place seemed empty- Suddenly something DROPPED from the ceiling. Lights flashed a heap of shadow-y humanoid figures entered with what sounded like cameras, flashing and shining, making Henry’s head spin. On the top of his table stood Funtime Chica posing elegantly. “Don’t get distracted~!” She spun around showing herself off, then blew a kiss down at him. Then she turned to Helpy. “Helpy!!! Why didn’t you tell me our guest was already here!!!” She whined, upset. Her paparazzi had vanished again, she however stuck around. “My first impression was TERRIBLE! Because of YOU!” “I’m sorry Miss Funtime Chica!” Helpy didn’t seem bothered by the accusation. “He was just suddenly here!” “Aw- well- at least he’s a total cutie!” “Why thank you.” Henry rose an eyebrow, but tried to continue focusing on the plastic children trying to enter the office, as well as the Phantom trying to materialize behind her. “I appreciate the compliments, especially from someone who seems to have an eye for it.” “Oooooh, look at him~ so adorable~ I wanna pinch his cheeks!” Sitting down on the desk, the bird smiled widely, watching him. “How’s the night going~?” “Rather fast. I think I have a grip on it though.” “Hm? Are you sure~?” Before Henry could answer his tablet acted up. For a few seconds he saw the little 8-bit fishing game- but before he could catch it, the screen changed showing an add. “COME TO EL CHIP’S FIESTA BUFFET, WE HAVE-“ Instantly clicking on skip, Henry managed to get another glimpse at the game- And then it was gone, a red GAME OVER stuck on his screen. His breath was getting shorter as the smell of brimstone slowly started filling the room again, the red alarms blinking, but the screen constantly flashing error when he tried to access it. More and more his head hurt, the room seemed to become darker and darker- was this smoke?! Was smoke entering the room? Would he be poisoned by the gasses!? Desperately he rattled the screen, while Chica only giggled and left, Helpy watching intensely from the shelf. “You know, if you just wait a few minutes, it’s gonna-“ Frustrated Henry shoved him down once more, his mouth filling with a disgusting taste as the room began spinning- It all come together, once Freddy formed, the Balloon Boy loomed in the vent, a second after, the telephone was ringing- Suddenly the screen flashed back up and he instantly grabbed it, trying to get his bearing as he hit the button to reset, being stuck for a second too long on the grinning grimaces of both a phantom Balloon Boy and Mangle- the latter of which suddenly crawled out of the screen and while he managed to hit the button, his office had descended into chaos. Helpy was holding a horn, the phantom Freddy had almost formed, the phantom Mangle was slowly extending its neck towards him, screaming and gargling in insane glee and to top if all off, the screen flashed red AGAIN, forcing him to focus on that instead of the other two things- Balloon Boy was snickering as he tried to make his way inside, Henry barely being able to shut the vent on him before discovering the stupid crate from the start looking at him from under the table. “Uh- hello? Hello, Hello?” “Scott. Bad timing.” “That is my job!” Cheerfully the Phone Guy said. “To be as much of a nuisance to you as possible. Uh- glad to hear the high praise. How are you? Bad? Good. Uh- anyways, I will now read to you the company greeting, but only the imperfect, first draft so you feel bad about what bullshit you wrote!” “I can crush this phone.” “No, uh- you actually can’t! The afterlife is neat, huh?” “I can mute you.” “If you are fast enough. Which you obviously weren’t. You really grew old, uh- up there…” “MY REFLEXES ARE GREAT AS EVER.” “If it were the case you wouldn’t, uh- y’know. Fighting with me over this.” “I am not fighting with you, I am merely correcting you. As I always did while we were alive.” Stopping the petty crap, seeing as he wasn’t even sure if this WAS actually the real Scott, he turned his attention to more important things. “What is this place? Who made it?!” “Uh- Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza! A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person-“ Instantly Henry tuned out. “Good riddance, Scotty.” He mumbled to himself, taking solace in the memory that no matter what, this obnoxious Phone-head had been dead for much longer than he himself. While the words kept going in the background, he kept working, pausing as a bright green mechanical parrot flew through his office. But- it didn’t really do anything, so he decided to ignore it for now. A good amount of time passed with his voice in the background, until it was abruptly cut off- seemingly by the ad for El Chip’s. Once that was skipped, the office was quiet, aside from the fan. Finally! The silence lingered. For a second Henry felt a bit lonely. Not even the little bear was there anymore. There was enough to do though, as the air kept needing to be reseted, Freddy kept popping up, the parrot came through once more, the minigame, the annoying balloon children wanted in- At last… … it was five AM. One last time the call sounded. Henry allowed it to come through, despite eyeing the ‘mute call’ button. “Hello? Hello, hello!?” It sounded on the other side. “Hey! You’re doing GREAT. I, uh- didn’t expect you to last this long! I mean-“ He broke off. “Y’know. Usually I expected you to move on to other things by now… disappearing into the void like you should, seeing as there’s no out.” “I will not disappear.” “Huh. Guess I owe the person who made this place an apology. I was wrong-“ “Who?! Who was it?! Who are you TALKING about?!” But before anything could be said, the bell chimed. Six AM His screen changed once more, a high-score board showing, then loud music started blasting from the speakers, hyper and fast paced, the numbers blinking and colorful, rapidly climbing higher and higher as fireworks were set up on the screen and around Henry, raining down confetti as they exploded- GREAT JOB! FANTASTIC! The fireworks stopped and the jingle ended with a congratulatory little up and down. Then the office was dark. Slowly he stood up, leaving to the outside, checking for danger- “Hey! You won. Here, take this for your trouble.” Suddenly ANOTHER Freddy was there, a golden star on his chest- he dropped a battery into Henry’s hands that he had grabbed, then he walked off. “Wait- wait a moment! I need an explanation! I need-“ The bear was gone. After a while of searching around the place and not finding an exit, Henry finally sighed and made his way back into the saferoom- or employees only lounge, or- whatever. Inside it was just like before. Safe. Except this time the TV was on. And there was a Fredbear suit on the sofa. How? Who knew. Why? Hopefully not to kill him. Slowly he moved next to it, inspecting it. At this moment it seemed completely lifeless, yet somehow he felt watched. “Am I… interrupting…?” No reaction. Walking past the suit, he put away the battery. Still no reaction, but he could swear the creature was looking at him. Unsure he approached it once more, sitting down besides him. “… looking at… fuzzystatic. I see. I think I will… join.” Suddenly, a loud noise of came from the tv, then it flashed. INTERMISSION. A little bit later, Henry was done watching a samurai Freddy fighting an ULTRA edgy Foxy, he put his face into his hands. “… send me back out. Please. I actually prefer it.”

[when-a-humble-bard]

the driftwood and the rift (p.2)

Read part 1 here!

Read on AO3 here!

Warnings: blood/injury; strong suggestions of past torture; feelings of guilt; everyone feels guilty for different reasons; they are bad at feelings but they are both trying

A/N: part 2 is here! This chapter was like pulling teeth to get them to talk to each other but we kinda got there. Heh. Hope you enjoy!

Tags: @thuriweaver

…

They take the last room at the tavern that’s available. Geralt accepts the key from the innkeeper—who stares at the mess of the two of them, beaten and bloody, with wide eyes—and half-helps, half-carries the bard up the stairs to the last room on the left. Geralt pauses only long enough to ask the barmaid to send up a basin of hot water.

He drops Jaskier onto the singular bed in the corner. He hates the silence. It had been grating in the months since their parting at the mountain top, but now that Jaskier is here… Geralt hates it. Almost as much as he hates the way Jaskier won’t meet his eyes.

Geralt busies himself with getting a low fire going in the hearth and pulling out strips of linen and vials of oil. He can feel Jaskier watching him, his bright blue eyes following his every movement. His initial panic seems to have abated, as much as Geralt can tell from his scent and the beating of the bard’s heart, but there’s something that lingers around him that Geralt can’t quite place. Something that reminds Geralt of burnt grass and smoke.

The Witcher turns to face the bard, opening his mouth to say something when he’s interrupted by a knock at the door. Geralt quietly thanks the young woman that hands the wash basin to him with a hesitant smile. When he turns back, Jaskier is standing. He’s got one hand braced against the headboard.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says softly. The bard’s eyes flicker up. “Sit down.”

Jaskier shakes his head. Some of his hair—it’s longer than Geralt remembers—falls across his eyes in the process. “Your shoulder,” he says. “It needs to be cleaned and we both know your scars heal more evenly if someone else sews them up.”

Geralt sighs. “I don’t care how evenly—”

“For fuck’s sake, Geralt, just… let…” Jaskier blows out a breath. “Let me do this. Please.”

Geralt knows first-hand just how insistent the bard can be. There was a certain fire that always lit up in those blue eyes of his when he got this way, and Geralt can’t help but feel an odd note of relief at seeing it back. The look always managed to exasperate the Witcher—honestly, Jaskier chose the most trivial things to put his foot down over—but it’s an improvement over the distant, haunted look that had shadowed his expression since the forest. Perhaps that’s why he relents.

Geralt’s lips press into a thin line before he sets the basin on the floor and sits on the edge of the bed. Jaskier is quiet again as Geralt shrugs off his armor and sheds the shirt underneath. The silence twists Geralt’s stomach. He is desperate to fill it.

“You were in Blavikin.”

It’s not a question, exactly. The hooded figure had told him as such, after all. The gentle splash of water as Jaskier dips one of the strips of linen into the basin fills the beat of silence that meets the end of the statement.

The bard’s gaze flickers up briefly to meet the Witcher’s golden one. “Yes. After we, ah, last parted, I found myself passing through Blavikin and the people of Blavikin found themselves in need of a bard.”

Geralt watches closely as Jaskier swallows before gingerly pressing the linen to the stab wound, far more gently than necessary, beginning to clean the blood that had dried against Geralt’s skin. The admittance from Jaskier leaves Geralt with more questions than answers. He wants to ask why—of all places Jaskier could have headed—the bard decided to go there. But Geralt doesn’t ask, swallowing the question down.

He thinks he knows the answer, anyway. Despite the bard’s ballads and songs sweeping through the Continent, plenty of contempt directed towards him lingered around. He had no doubt that Blavikin would harbor the worst of it. Butcher of Blavikin wasn’t a name so easily wiped from memories, even if White Wolf had started to worm its way into people’s vocabularies with increasing frequency.

Geralt had not returned to the town since Renfri. He did not plan to ever go back. Geralt looks up as Jaskier continues to clean at the wound in his shoulder. He wonders if perhaps Jaskier knew that. If that’s exactly why the bard decided to go there.

It’s another question that Geralt can’t bring himself to ask.

“I don’t think I’ll go back,” Jaskier says suddenly, studiously avoiding Geralt’s watchful stare. “Can’t say Blavikin really does it for me much anymore.”

“Hmm.” Geralt wants to ask why, but Jaskier presses on.

“Although, I’ll have to go back to retrieve my lute. If it’s even still there. I suppose that’s unlikely, given that it’s been a month, but you never truly know. Perhaps Adelaide rescued it. She’s just as likely to sell it, and that would be quite the travesty. Filavandrel would never forgive me. Although, to be fair, I haven’t performed quite as much as I used to, so perhaps there’s a certain level of irony to be found.”

As he rambles—for which Geralt is oddly grateful to hear, even if Jaskier’s voice is thin and shaky—he finishes cleaning the wound. It’s stopped bleeding, Geralt realizes, and Jaskier turns away from the Witcher and begins preparing what looks like a poultice. Geralt’s gaze still doesn’t waver from the bard. Jaskier’s hands are shaking. He drops one of the vials and it shatters against the dark wood floors.

“Fuck.”

Geralt stands up slowly. “Jaskier.”

“I’ll replace it in the morning, Geralt.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Jaskier is standing frozen by the table next to the bed, dropping his hands beside the poultice and dragging a breath into his lungs as if it takes a certain amount of focus. It’s the first deep breath Geralt has heard the bard take tonight, but he doesn’t miss the hitch nor the slight grimace of pain that passes through Jaskier’s face. Geralt swallows.

“Sit,” he says, and this time, Jaskier doesn’t argue with him.

The bard sinks down onto the side of the bed where Geralt had been sitting a moment ago, his gaze distant as he stares absently across the room. Jaskier blinks, breaking him out of whatever momentary trance he’d been in, and drags his gaze back to Geralt. It settles squarely on the wound in his shoulder. That scent of burnt grass and smoke that lingers around the bard gets stronger.

Geralt sighs, glancing around the room before he finds the spare change of clothes he’d brought in from Roach. He slips the shirt over his head, gritting his teeth as the move tears a bit at the stab wound. He just wants Jaskier to stop staring at it. Especially since the bard looks like he’s about to keel over at any moment.

Geralt busies himself with picking up the shards of glass he can find while he waits for Jaskier to shed his doublet and the shirt underneath. Except by the time Geralt has finished cleaning up the glass as best he can manage, Jaskier hasn’t moved.

Geralt sighs. “Jaskier.” Jaskier blinks up at him expectantly. Geralt arcs an eyebrow, then motions to the bard. “Your shirt.”

“What about it?” From the quick aversion of his gaze, Geralt has the feeling that Jaskier is stalling more than expressing a genuine lack of understanding. Geralt doesn’t respond, crossing his arms over his chest and staring the bard down.

Jaskier lasts all of about ten seconds before he releases a breath and Geralt sees his cheeks flush slightly. “I… may need some help,” he says quietly.

Geralt softens and crosses back to him, sitting beside the bard and helping him ease his blue doublet off his shoulders. The stench of copper grows stronger, and Geralt can see stains of red bleeding onto the off-white shirt he wears beneath. Geralt folds the doublet and sets it aside as he hears Jaskier suck in a deep breath before tugging the hem of his shirt out of his pants and continuing the momentum up and over his head.

Geralt doesn’t miss the tight clench to Jaskier’s jaw at the movement before the bard balls the shirt in his hands. Geralt glances at the bard’s back and freezes.

It’s… a mess. Mottled bruising—some fresh, some old—offers a sickeningly colorful backdrop of greens, yellows, and blues to the slashes that carve through his skin. Some span most of the bard’s back, others are smaller. A few are red, barely scabbed over, while others are most of the way to scarring.

 He lasted nearly three weeks before he screamed for you.

Geralt closes his eyes against the roll in his stomach. “Fuck, Jaskier.”

“It’s like I always told you,” Jaskier says, and the attempt at levity probably wouldn’t have worked even if Jaskier’s voice didn’t tremble just a little, “ladies love some scars. Though I’m afraid the stories behind mine are, ah… well. Safe to say I probably won’t be composing songs about them.”

Geralt swallows thickly. He doesn’t know where to start, his golden gaze flickering over the far-too-many injuries that splay across the bard’s back, over his shoulders, wrapping around his ribs. Geralt leans forward slightly to inspect the bard’s chest, and Jaskier turns his head away like he’s ashamed. His chest looks to be in just as bad of shape, and the fact that the bruises continue down around the bard’s hips and disappear beneath the waistline of his pants doesn’t escape the Witcher’s notice either.

“What did they want?” Geralt asks in a careful voice, tearing his gaze away from the colorful and painful display of Jaskier’s chest to the bard’s face.

Jaskier’s light blue gaze flickers to Geralt before looking back to the fire in the hearth. “Nothing.”

“Jaskier.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier finally meets his eyes in a brief flair of defiance. Something wavers in Jaskier’s expression before he tears his gaze away. It grows distant as the bard’s voice grows softer. “They didn’t want anything I was willing to give. So what does it matter, really, what they wanted?”

It matters because Geralt didn’t really need Jaskier to tell him what they wanted from him. The hooded figure in the forest had been pretty damn clear. He was resolute in withholding information about you. Loyal to the end, it would seem. Plenty of people wanted the Witcher dead—plenty of people want Witchers in general dead. None, as far as Geralt knew, had gone to such lengths to glean any information about him in particular as to do this. He knew his lifestyle was dangerous, and put those who chose to join him in harm’s way, but… that was because he hunted monsters. Not… not this. Fuck.

Nobody deserved this, but Jaskier least of all. Jaskier, who had done nothing but care for him and be the singular most steadfast person present in Geralt’s life. Loyal to the end, it would seem. Geralt’s stomach gives another uncomfortable roll, his throat growing tight.

Geralt’s own thoughts trail off as he sees the pained hitch in Jaskier’s breath as he sighs just a touch too deeply.

The Witcher busies himself with kneeling in front of the bard, dipping the unused strips of linen in the wash basin that is now slightly tinged with the red of Geralt’s own blood.

“You should have told them,” Geralt says without looking at him. “Whatever they wanted to know, you should have…” He trails off.

Jaskier releases a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, laced tight with pain and something else that Geralt can’t place. “You really think so little of me? After all these years?”

Geralt’s brow furrows as he wrings out one of the strips. Jaskier looks back at the Witcher, seems to recognize the confusion, and shakes his head a little. “For fuck’s sake, Geralt. You think a little pain is all it would take for me to sell out on you?”

“This,” Geralt says between clenched teeth, nodding to Jaskier’s battered form, “is more than just a little, Jaskier.”

And gods fucking damn it, because it’s his fault. They didn’t want Jaskier, they wanted Geralt, and had thought that going after the bard would be the fastest way to get to him. It was well known across the Continent that Jaskier was the bard who sung the praises of the White Wolf, tagged along with him on so many adventures. An easy target. But the bard was nothing if not steadfast and loyal—to a fault, it would seem to Geralt—and his will had never been as easily broken as his body. If Geralt had just… been there, then Jaskier wouldn’t be fighting back a pained wince with each inhale of breath he dragged into his lungs.  

Geralt sighs. He lifts the damp cloth towards the gash on Jaskier’s shoulder. One of the fresher ones, by the look of it. That, or the fight in the woods had torn an old wound back open. Geralt’s hand hesitates before making contact, looking to Jaskier for permission.

Jaskier doesn’t look at him, but he offers a subtle nod and swallows. He shuts his eyes, holding his breath as Geralt gingerly dabs at the fresh blood there. Jaskier releases the breath slowly a moment later. Geralt pretends not to notice just how badly it shakes.

There’s a long stretch where neither of them says anything. Geralt pays close attention to Jaskier, giving him a moment to brace each time he begins to tend to a new wound. The Witcher tries not to let his mind wander too far from his job, careful to not touch Jaskier anywhere he doesn’t absolutely have to. The bard’s fallen silent again, and there are brief moments where Geralt can feel his quiet gaze on him. Any time he goes to return it, Jaskier’s blue eyes flicker back to the fire, crackling in the silence around them.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Jaskier says when Geralt hesitates for the fourth time.

“Hmm.”

“Any of it,” Jaskier adds. “I did pick up a few things from our travels together, you know. I… I can do this myself.”

Geralt lets his hand drop from Jaskier’s ribs, his gold gaze searching. Jaskier won’t meet his eyes. “Do you want to?” he asks, because as much as Geralt wants to feel like cleaning Jaskier’s wounds would at least begin the recompense he owes the bard, Jaskier’s comfort and sense of security take priority.

“I can.”

Geralt frowns. “That’s not what I asked.”

Jaskier is silent again. As much as the Witcher knew the bard could read him, he’d learned how to read the bard over the years in kind. Something was pressing on Jaskier’s mind. He could tell from the unusual silence. The distant gaze. The way that his hands wringed in his shirt—usually, he’d be plucking absently on the strings of his lute, but with the instrument’s absence, Geralt figures that the bard’s hands would remain restless when he was turning something over in his mind.

Still, Jaskier doesn’t give voice to whatever thoughts are evidently flickering through his mind. And as much as Geralt wants to ask him, he can’t bring himself to. He doesn’t want to press. He’d been pressed for information enough over the past month.

The Witcher has cleaned most of the fresh and re-opened wounds on Jaskier’s ribs when the bard finally breaks the silence.

“Geralt.”

“Hmm?”

“In the forest.” Jaskier looks at Geralt kneeling in front of him. There’s a flood of that burnt grass and smoke scent and only now that Geralt is fully looking at him—his eyes wide and pained—can Geralt pair the scent with the emotion. Guilt. “Did you know it would work?”

“What would work?”

“Throwing the knife.”

Geralt’s hands still for a moment. “Mages are conduits of chaos,” he says quietly, recalling what Yennefer had told him once. “Destroy the conduit, you break their hold on whomever they’ve enchanted. Usually.”

“Usually,” Jaskier repeats. “So you didn’t know.”

“Hmm.”

“You could have killed me. You should have.” The statement makes Geralt’s eyes flash up to the bard’s again. “Why didn’t you?”

Geralt shakes his head, hating the way the smoke scent starts to radiate off Jaskier so fully that it nearly drowns out the smell of honeysuckle entirely. “You were under a spell.”

“I was a threat.”

“No.” Geralt’s eyes flash. “You were a victim. There’s a difference.”

“I wanted to hurt you.” Jaskier looks squarely at Geralt now, his blue eyes bright with pain. “I did. When that spell was winning, I wanted to hurt you, Geralt, and gods on high it terrified me. I mean—fuck.” Jaskier drops the shirt in his hands as his voice breaks and buries his fingertips in his hair.

“Jaskier,” Geralt tries, ducking a little in an attempt to get the bard to look at him again. Jaskier’s eyes are screwed shut. Geralt purses his lips. “I’ve sustained injuries far more serious than the meager ones you inflicted in the forest. And regardless, that wasn’t reflective of your desires. It was the bloodlust of the spell.”

“But I felt it, Geralt. I…” Jaskier shakes his head. He scrubs a hand across his watering eyes. He offers a thin, shaky, self-deprecating smile. “Add it to the pile of shit I shovel, huh?”

It’s Geralt’s turn to avert his gaze. Jaskier doesn’t mean it as a jab, but it rips open old well-deserved pain in Geralt’s chest. He’d regretted his words on the mountain less than an hour after he’d spoken them. But he hadn’t known how to take the words back in a way that would mean anything. He’d still said them. And Geralt had long ago gotten in the habit of not saying much of anything when he didn’t know what to say. So instead, he’d taken his time going back down the mountain, turning over the thousand ways to make it up to the bard should they ever cross paths again.

Here they are, months later, and Geralt still doesn’t know where to begin.

“I wasn’t fair,” Geralt says, knowing and hating that all he can think to say is a distant echo of what Jaskier had said himself on that mountaintop months ago. “After the dragon. You were right.”

Jaskier’s eyes open, blinking in evident surprise as he glances up at the Witcher. Geralt can feel the gaze on him, searching and confused, but he can’t quite bring himself to meet it. He busies his hands and his attention, instead, by returning to the gash under Jaskier’s collarbone that still looks red and painful.

“I get myself into shit,” Geralt continues quietly, “and the fact that you happen to be there more often than not does not mean you’re the one who…” The Witcher huffs a frustrated breath, fumbling for some semblance of words that won’t fall short of what he means. He dabs gently with the damp linen cloth against the wound and Jaskier’s breath stutters for just a moment.

He tries again. “You’re a loyal friend, Jaskier.”

And fuck if that doesn’t fall short in a million other ways. The extent of Jaskier’s unyielding, relentless loyalty was painted all over the bard’s body as a painful reminder. Loyal felt like such a massive understatement, and friend didn’t fit well in Geralt’s mouth as a descriptor of Jaskier either. It never had.

But Geralt doesn’t know how to bridge the rift between the words he says and the meaning behind them. The words that leave his lips feel like grasping at driftwood while drowning.

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters under his breath.

Jaskier’s hand stills Geralt’s over his wound before pulling his hand away and enveloping it in his own. “Geralt?”

The Witcher stops and swallows. “Forgive me. Please.”

And in truth, Geralt doesn’t know what exactly he’s referring to. If it’s the long overdue plea for what he’d said on the mountain or for the pained wince that Jaskier kept trying to mask or for all the other ways that the Witcher continued to fail Jaskier. There are far too many things, too many ways, that Geralt had fallen short. Too many things he needs Jaskier to forgive him for.

“I’ll do better,” Geralt murmurs, and Jaskier leans forward until their foreheads are touching. Geralt takes a breath, enveloped in the scent of cedar and honeysuckle and rose. The copper scent is mostly gone now, and the Witcher counts it as a small mercy on the aching in his chest.

“My dear Witcher,” Jaskier breathes in the space between them, “Of course.”

The ease with which Jaskier says the words is a grace that Geralt does not deserve. He releases a breath as the knot in his chest loosens before swallowing thickly. He feels Jaskier squeeze his hand softly. Geralt pulls back despite the sudden desire to press into the bard’s aura of warmth and wildflowers.

Jaskier is still battered and bruised and in pain. I’ll do better. That begins with easing whatever pain of Jaskier’s he can in the moment.

The Witcher clears his throat slightly as if it will ease the tightness of it. Jaskier seems reluctant to release his hold of Geralt’s hand, but he does after a moment. Geralt goes back to cleaning the gash beneath his collarbone. It’s the last of his wounds that necessitate cleaning before he’ll offer a salve that should help with the inflammation. Hopefully, with some pain eased, Jaskier can get a decent night’s sleep. Gods know how long it had been since the bard had been able to do that.

Geralt stands to do just that, turning towards the bag he’d hauled in.

“Where do you plan to go, come morning light?” Jaskier asks suddenly.

Geralt turns back around to look at the bard. “With you,” he says, his brows furrowed. Hadn’t that been obvious?

The Witcher sees the faintest hint of a smile tug at the corner of the bard’s mouth and the lingering knot in Geralt’s chest loosens just a touch more. “To the coast?”

“Hmm.” That did sound… nice, actually. Getting away for a while. It had been a long time since Geralt had been to the coast. He turns back to the bag and rifles through the contents, searching for that salve.

“I’ll need to get my lute first.”

“We can stop on the way.”

“Been too long since I last played,” Jaskier is saying, his voice getting softer and heavier. “Though if we’re going to the coast, I’ll have ample time to work on some sea shanties. Been ages since I’ve sung a sea shanty. Do you know any, Geralt?”

“No.”

“Hm. Shame. I’ll have to teach some to you.”

Geralt huffs a breath. Jaskier would be hard pressed to get Geralt to sing much of anything, but there also wasn’t much that Geralt would refuse Jaskier right now. He turns back to the bard, his brow arched, and finds the bard slumped over in the bed. Fast asleep. The corner of the Witcher’s mouth tugs up into an almost-smile.

He sets the salve that he’d dug out of the bag on the table with a quiet click, easing an arm under Jaskier’s knees and one under his neck. He lifts the bard easily—he’s far lighter than he ought to be—and repositions him more fully onto the bed. He couldn’t have the bard aggravating his injuries further. Jaskier stirs slightly, and Geralt holds his breath before the bard sighs softly and seems to drift back to sleep.

Geralt sets his bedroll on the floor. In the morning, they’d set off for the coast. For now, Geralt drifts off to sleep to the crackling fire in the hearth, the bard’s steady heartbeat, and the faint scent of wildflowers in the air around him.