#and she’d okay with it despite insisting that family get togethers mean all “family” members should be there

[agents-are-dicks]

Had a bad day so now I’m drinking my lil frozen coffee and watching holiday baking shows as a treat instead of showering (I’ll shower in the morning)

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

Prev

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks 

[wdwmarveldisney]

🥺👉👈 Could I maybe request a doctor who x reader with a younger, more innocent teenage reader? And the doctor gets protective over them, especially when they could be in danger. Any doctor could fit. (sorry if this is not enough information I'm new to making requests)

Let them go

Eleventh Doctor x platonic!teen!reader

Summary: When the Doctor takes you to your favourite musical, things once again don’t end well.

Masterlist

A/N: Ok so I loved this request and thank you so much. You are so sweet. Don’t worry about how information there is, I just hope that you like it. I may have mixed a little Newsies in here because, well I love it and I honestly think about how I would a hundred percent ask to go there if I was travelling with the Doctor.

Not my GIF

Shaking violently when travelling seemed to be the only flaw of the TARDIS and even then, it was only because the Doctor was a terrible pilot. He had tried to convince you otherwise but you'd met River on more than one occasion and she had actual evidence for her argument so excuse you if you sided with her. But that didn't mean that you hated it; every time it happened, you'd grin real big because it was just yet another reminder of the chaos that came with the Doctor. You had a usual place by the controls, one where you were often moved from during flight to avoid you being in the way. Most of the time you ended up in one of the seats, watching his every move in hopes of learning what any of it meant. River had promised to teach you when you were older, said you could leave the Doctor in the 1920s where he apparently thrived and she'd teach you how to the drive the TARDIS.

Right now however, you were here in 2017 New York, at your request. You had asked to see the recording of Newsies after a small (ok so maybe the exact opposite of small) obsession with the musical over the years. You were surprised when all the Doctor had to do was make a call and suddenly you were right at the front with the opportunity to go backstage afterwards too. The inner fangirl was hard to control as the two of you headed to the doors and you managed to stumble slightly but he had caught you before you could fall into the wooden doors. Pouting as he laughed, you tugged his bow tie hard making him stop with a frown and a hand going to readjust it. He scanned your attire with an amused smile which resulted in a flick to the head from you. "Ow, I didn't say anything!"

You walked out the TARDIS, breathing in the smell of hotdogs and petrol before facing him with a small frown, "You were thinking it. I can wear a Newsies shirt if I want to wear a Newsies shirt," he put his hands up in surrender as he walked out too and then quickly turned to lock the doors. You tugged at the shirt in question as you glanced round the empty alley, waiting for him. It was a few seconds before you felt an arm fall into your shoulders and quickly you began to walk to the streets with big smiles on your faces. In the small time you had come to know the Doctor, he had become like family. You had been quite sheltered growing up, never seen much trouble but that's kinda expected from a small town family. When you started travelling with the TimeLord, you saw a lot of bad stuff, things you had never even thought possible and so naturally, he was protective. He was like an older brother, maybe a dad ish vibe.

Your steps were in time with his as you approached the theatre, huffing at how long the queue to get in was. Finally in line, you tapped your foot patiently and suddenly, the question had slipped from your lips without much thought, "How did you get good tickets?" He paused, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie nervously before straightening out his tweed jacket. He avoided eye contact and instead stared at the bright lights surrounding you guys, "Well, um, I helped write it. Historical facts and stuff," you watched him shrug with terribly faked nonchalance. Jaw dropping, your eyes went comically wide as you stuttered out, "You- They- What?" Unbelievable. Of course he knew about your obsession with the musical and failed to mention his involvement with writing it.

It was a couple hours later and you were waiting by the Doctor's side as the theatre cleared out. He had spent the whole musical jittery and chatty, clearly not good with just sitting there and watching. Several times someone had complained and you had had to talk with him about it. He was a literal child at times. But despite the fact he had muttered about his hate for Twitter after the girl next to you guys tweeted a picture of herself and her friend there, you enjoyed yourself. The musical was just as great as the first time you watched the recording, if not better. And now, you couldn't stop bouncing in excitement. You were actually going backstage, and you were going to meet the cast of a musical you have obsessed over for years.

But of course, with the Doctor, things never happened that easily.

The TimeLord had pulled out his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with while you waited and frowned at the noise it made. You caught his muttering and huffed, already knowing that look on his face. Concern, anger and a touch of excitement. "Don't say it," his eyes slowly left the device in his hands as he raised an eyebrow at your words. Someone was just leaving the backstage area but neither of you noticed as you sighed, "Why does something always have to happen? One good, non-alien day is all I ask. Is that even possible with you?" He grinned goofily at you with a breathy chuckle before raising the screwdriver in the air and scanning your surroundings. You jumped at the tap on your shoulder, facing the crew member with fists raised like that would do something. "Oh,"

"I was sent to get you. What's he doing?" You glanced to the Doctor, who now stood on one of the seats and you shrugged, arms crossing over his chest. Looking between both men, eventually you answered, "I find it best not to ask until he gets that look on his face," the guy frowned as he watched the Doctor jump from the seat and run up an aisle and look through one of the doors. As the two of you watched him lock the door with the screwdriver, the crew guy asked, "What look?" Going to respond, you stopped yourself once seeing the dark look of his face. The one that ensured mortal danger and most likely ended with the two of you saving the world. Again.

"That look," the guy watched you point to the alien as he made his way over to you by jumping over one of the seats. His arm landed on your shoulders as he huffed slightly from all the running round, "Right okay then, possible shapeshifter, very dangerous and kills for the hell of it. Also, amazing dancers and have a tendency to be really funny. Ready?" As he spoke, he looked the guy up and down in a calculating way as if he was possible suspect. You ignored the shock and fear on the guy's face in front of you and instead tilted your head in debate, "I mean, yeah sure," with a laugh, he clapped his hands together and approached the crew member. He too ignored the expression or he just didn't notice with how quickly his mind was now working. He smiled, hands clasped in front of him as he did another look over the guy before speaking, "Ok, we're ready to go. Should probably check out backstage first," he looked to you and you nodded in agreement. "Well," he paused as he placed his hands on the guy's shoulder, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Panicky look still clearly painted on his features, his voice shook as he managed, "Carl,"

"Well Carl, lead the way," gripping the clipboard in his hands tighter, Carl turned around and began to walk up the stairs and backstage with the two of you following. You stared at your feet as you walked, pout on your lips as you thought, "So, when you say very dangerous...?" The Doctor paused before backtrack king to you and placing his hands on your shoulders whilst ducking his head down to meet your eyes. He had such certainty and determination that you knew he wasn't lying when he said, "Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise," a chuckle left your lips as you punched his shoulder, smile lighting up your face as he remained unbelievably serious, "Well duh. I've got my own hero. And you know I'd haunt the hell out of you," he shook his head, smile fighting it's way to his face as the two of you began to walk behind the curtain.

-

So apparently the Doctor isn't great with promises or at least, that's what you gather when the two of you were walking down a deserted corridor and something had grabbed you from behind. The last hour had been the two of you searching in the dark, trusting no one since this alien shapeshifted. Two crew members were found dead and another missing so the Doctor insisted on going to find her and well, naturally you followed without question. And now you had a claw to your throat as you whimpered at how hard the alien was pulling your hair. This made the Doctor turn, eyes darkening when he saw you struggling and crying quietly to yourself. "Let them go," it was practically a whisper but it echoed in the hall, making the creature laugh. "Why would I do that?" The voice was deep and distorted and almost robotic, "They'll be so much fun," the last word was spat, venom in the voice making whimper again. You shook violently and the Doctor met your terrified eyes with his remorseless ones. "Why are you here? Order the Shadow Proclamation states Earth is a Level five planet. Do you know what they'd do to you?" He took a few taunting steps forward, head almost bowed in anger.

A small scream left your lips as the claw made a small cut in your throat and the Doctor seemed to tense. Rolling out his shoulders, the TimeLord uncharacteristically smirked as his fingers toyed with the screwdriver in his hands and he laughed almost hollowly, "I know about your people. I have fought your people time again and again and again. And do you want to know what I remember?" There was a pause in his words, only audible thing being your small cries, "You really don't like high frequencies," he raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button and the alien began to freak. His hands slammed over his ears and he stumbled back, essentially freeing you. You managed to make your way to a worried and panicking Doctor before the two of you rushed down the hall and inside a changing room. You fell back against the door as the whir of the screwdriver and the click of the lock and the huffs of your breaths filled the room.

Suddenly the small device was stuck in your face, scanning you up and down before you smacked it away. He gave you a pointed look before carrying on, no doubt scanning for any other type of harm. He was in protective mode which wasn't uncommon but could get annoying when he wouldn't stop checking up on you. With a frustrated expression, you snatched the screwdriver from his hands and shook your head when your eyes met, “I’m fine,” you made sure to emphasise the last word and the Doctor mimicked you under his breath like a three year old. Scoffing, you pointed the screwdriver at him in warning but he just simply took it back with a small huff.

And then there was a bang at the door and the two of you were reminded of the danger you were facing this time round.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch46: Just A Formality

Intro: Emmy gets into a spot of trouble at school, which leads the family to make a joint decision that will change their lives forever. And together with their friends they celebrate Jamie’s birthday, will a little surprise for Emmy too. 

Warnings: Bad Language words. Slight angst (teenagers) and Steve being a very overprotective dad…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Yeah, I love this chapter. I hope you all do too. And thank @angrybirdcr​ for the edit...it mushed my insides!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 45

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 February 2021

“So what do you think?” Rhodey asked as he stood, arms folded, looking at the screen. Natasha was stood next to him, nervously chewing on her nail and Steve was looking at the rather gory photos that they had been sent through from the Mexican Authorities.

“Is it definitely him?” Steve sighed, looking at the screen again. In a million years he would never have expected Barton to be capable of such out and out gore and violence, but then again the man had lost his entire family- wife and three kids. Steve wasn’t sure how he would react should anything happen to Katie, Emmy or Jamie.

“Yeah.” Nat sighed, pressing another button. This time it flipped to some CCTV footage of the incident. They three of them watched as Clint took down six gang members, brutally, and with a final swipe of the samurai sword he was holding almost severed one man’s head completely from its shoulders. “Same MO, same fight pattern, and the facial recognition software caught him about five miles north of this town less than two hours before this happened.” “He’s getting more and more vicious.” Rhodey spoke. “I suppose we should be grateful in a way he’s taking down people that we should be stopping but how long till someone gets caught in the cross fire?” “Clint wouldn’t-” Natasha began but Steve cut her off.

“Once I would agree with you.” he sighed, looking at her “But now, well, Nat, he’s…” “Lost it.” Rhodey concluded

“So would you if you’d seen your wife and kids turn to dust.” Nat’s voice was fierce as she turned to look at him.

“I know.” Rhodey held his hands up “I can’t even imagine what he went through.”

Steve looked at Nat, recognising the pensive look on her face. “What you thinking?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m gonna fly out to Mexico. Rhodey, can you come with me? We’ll see if we can dig anything up?” Rhodey nodded. Steve was about to offer his services too, but then his phone started ringing.

“Hey beautiful.” He greeted Katie, but instead of the usual response of either hello handsome or soldier, he was met with an exasperated sigh.

“Emmy’s Principal has just called me.” She groaned “She’s been in a fight.”

Steve frowned. “Really? What for?” “No idea. He didn’t say much other than he’s excluding her for a week and wants us to go collect her as soon as we can. Thing is, I have a call in twenty with the Health Authorities, President Ellis has asked me to give them some guidance on how we regrouped at SI, and I can try and rearrange but if I can’t it means she’s gonna be sat outside the office for at least an hour and a half. Is there any chance you-”

“I got, course I’ll go. I’m done here anyway so you do what you need to do and we’ll see you at home.”

“Thank you.” She sighed “Between this and Jamie screaming blue murder when I dropped him in at the Day Care this morning It hasn’t really been the spectacular return to work I was hoping for.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “He didn’t take it well then?” “No.” Her voice cracked “God, Steve, Leaving him there whilst he was screaming, fuck, it broke my heart.” Steve took a sigh and walked a little further away from Rhodey and Natasha, dropping his voice. “Honey, he’ll be fine. You know what he’s like. Ten minutes after you left he will have forgotten why he’s so upset and will have settled.”

“I know, I just, well Mom and Dad used to palm me and Tony off on our Nannies all the time and-”

“This is completely different.” Steve cut her off. “First off, you’re leaving him for what, five hours a day, maximum. Second off, he’s being watched at a crèche, twenty floors down from where you are, in the same building so you can see him whenever you want.”

“I was advised by the Staff not to do that today.” She sniffed. “It could unsettle him more.”

“I’m sure they know what they’re talking about.” Steve soothed her gently “Look, try not to worry. Jamie will be fine, I’ll go sort Emmy out and we’ll see you at home this evening okay?” “My hero.” she said and Steve smiled.

“Love you, see you later.”

Cutting the call he turned to Rhodey and Nat who were still looking at the screen. Walking back towards them he picked up his jacket where he had tossed it over the back of a chair, reaching for his keys at the same time.

“Guys, I gotta go.” He informed them and they looked up. “Emmy’s in trouble at school and I need to head in and see the Principal.”

“Trouble?” Nat frowned.

“Fighting.” Steve rolled his eyes as Nat and Rhodey exchanged a glance, Nat smirking slightly. Steve gave an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“Nothing.” Nat grinned. “Just don’t punch the Principal in the face…”

*****

It took Steve little over thirty minutes to reach the school. He may have broken a few speeding laws on the way, but Katie was right, it was too easy to do in the Camero. To be honest, it was pretty easy to do in the new Audi they had bought just before Christmas too, but Katie had that as it was easier to get Jamie’s seat and stroller in. The Camero was not child friendly, at all, but she had insisted on keeping it as a second car, despite Steve’s protests that they didn’t need it.

With an easy tug he pulled open the doors to the reception of the school and strode inside. The woman behind the desk handed him a visitor’s pass and led him down to the office as he brushed a piece of fluff off the front of his long sleeved blue top. Steve followed the white haired lady through the corridors in silence until he reached the office and spotted Emmy was sat outside it, slumped in a chair. At the sight of her father she jumped up and ran into his arms, crying.

“Hey,” He looked down as he smoothed her dark, ebony hair out of her face, cupping her face gently in one large hand. “What’s going on, Em?” “He started it.” She sniffed. “He was saying things, about you and mom and that my birth parents and that…that…”

She was starting to have a panic attack, Steve could see that instantly. She’d suffered from them a lot when she had first started to live with them and he knew that if he didn’t help her get it under control now it would escalate.

“Deep breaths.” He spoke gently, steering her back to a chair. She sat down and he tilted her head with his hand so that she was looking at him. “Count to ten, just like we practiced ok?”

She gripped onto his forearms, her eyes screwing shut as she took deep inhales and exhales, counting along as she did. By the time she got to seven she’d managed to ground herself again, and Steve encouraged her for the remaining three numbers, them just reaching ten as the door to the office at the end of the corridor opened.

“Mr Rogers.”

 Steve stood up to greet the Principal, John Stevenson, who he had met once before when they had enrolled Emmy into the school. He was a tall, lean man with round glasses and a kind face, but an air of authority perfect for that of a headmaster “Mr Stevenson.” Steve smiled, shaking his hand “I don’t mean to be rude, but could you give me a second with my daughter please? I want to hear her side of the story and then I’ll be right with you.”

“Of course,” the man nodded, giving him and Emmy a little smile. “Just come in when you’re ready.”

Once the door to his office was shut, Steve sat on the spare seat next to Emmy. “So you wanna tell me what happened. Who ya been fightin’ with?”

“A boy a grade above. And I wasn’t fighting. Not really, I mean I hit him but he fell over, he didn’t hit me back.” Steve bit his lip. “Seems the stuff your mom and Auntie Nat taught you came in handy, huh?”

Emmy shrugged.

“What did you hit him for?”

“Because he’s a jerk and a bully” Emmy’s hands were wringing together. “He was picking on a few of the kids who lost their parents all through last year and then last month when I told him to shut up, he decided to start on me”

Steve took a deep breath “What was he saying?”

“The usual, stuff like ‘you don’t have a real family’, said that you and mom only look after me because you feel guilty that the Avengers fucked, sorry, messed up.” She glanced up at Steve, but he merely arched an eyebrow, letting the curse word slide. “And he says that once I’m old enough you’ll throw me out, and then he called me a, and I quote ‘fucking orphan rat’.” She shrugged. “Sso I punched him.”

“Alright.” Steve took a deep breath, his jaw ticking as he supressed the feeling of annoyance and anger that had flooded his system at Emmy’s explanation. “We’ll unpack all that when we get home, with your mom.”

“Are you mad?” Emmy blinked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Well, punching him probably wasn’t the best way to deal with the situation.” Steve sighed, and instantly his wife’s voice popped into his head at how hypocritical he felt. 

“Hello Kettle, this is Steve Rogers, you’re black…”

“But if what you’re telling me is true-“   “It is Dad I swear!”

“Then no, I’m not mad. At you.” He gave her a small smile. “But I’m mad as hell he said those horrible things to you though.” He looked at Emmy as she smiled softly. “Now, I best go speak to your principal. I won’t be long, and then we’ll go home and talk properly okay?”

She nodded and Steve dropped a kiss to her head as he stood up and walked to the door. Rapping on it twice, he pulled it open and stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him. Principal Stevenson stood up, shook his hand before gesturing down at the chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

“So did she tell you what happened?” The man asked, leaning back slightly in his chair.

Steve nodded. “She said that a boy, I didn’t get his name…” “Josh Gemmil.” “Yes, well, she told me that this Josh had been picking on a few kids and when he started on her, she didn’t take kindly to it. And to be frank, I can’t say I blame her. The things he was saying to Emmy were disgusting.” “Yeah, and that may be the case.” Mr Stevenson sighed heavily, “but the issue is, Mr Rogers, we have a strict zero tolerance to violence policy, so, given Emmy did punch him in front of pretty much the entire school in the yard, I’ve no alternative but to suspend her for a week.” “Are you suspending him?” Steve asked.

“Sorry?” The man opposite Steve frowned. “I’m not…” “The boy who Emmy punched. Are you suspending him for what he said?”

“No-one has corroborated her story, well, other than Brooke and I know how close they are so she could be-” “Woah, hold up.” Steve interrupted, holding his hand up to cut that man off as a flash of anger surged through his chest. “Are you insinuating Emmy is lying?” “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” “So if she’s telling the truth, then surely the boy deserves punishment as well. Emmy isn’t the only person he’s been saying things to.”

“She’s the only person who has punched him.” “That may be, but either way-.”

“Mr Rogers,” the Principal sighed, cutting him off,  “for what it’s worth Josh’s parents will be coming in later and I will be consulting them about his behaviour, but unfortunately Emmy has broken his nose.” “Well, I’d like to say I’m sorry about that but I’m not.” Steve was too far gone now to be rational, his instinct to protect his daughter had well and truly kicked in and the guy in front of him was really pissing him off. “I don’t like bullies,” he continued, levelling the man with a look and he visibly recoiled back into his seat, “and I’m not gonna punish my daughter for standing up to one. If you deem it fit to suspend her then fine, that is your prerogative, and of course I will tell her that violence is not acceptable, but I would expect some level of punishment to be extended to the boy in question and not just her.”

The Principal nodded. “Mr Rogers, I can assure you, if it was up to me I wouldn’t be suspending her at all, but my hands are tied by the governors and policies. I make an exception here, I have to do it for others and before you know it…” he trailed off. Steve took a deep breath, he could understand that perfectly, didn’t make it any easier for him to swallow though. “But that’s why the suspension is only for a week and not the two.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, do I need to sign anything or…”

“No.” the Principal shook his head. “Emmy has her log on to Workspace, her class notes and homework will be detailed on there as usual so she doesn’t miss out. If there is anything she doesn’t understand or needs help with, she can catch up when she gets back. She’s a very, smart kid so I’m not too concerned about that aspect of things.” Steve nodded, and stood up. He took a deep breath and stepped back into the corridor to find Brooke was sat with Emmy now, her arm round her best friend.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Steve asked, shooting the red head a look.

“Hey Mr R, don’t sweat it. Told em I was going to the bathroom.” Brooke shrugged and Steve rolled his eys.

“Well scoot before you get into trouble too.” He gestured with his head to the doors that led back to the reception area.

“Can Brooke come over later?” Emmy asked, timidly, “Or am I grounded?”

Steve took a deep breath “Not tonight, we need to have a chat. But over the weekend then, sure.” “’kay.” Emmy nodded, standing up. She reached for her rucksack but Steve took it from her, carrying it in his right hand, his left gently between Emmy’s shoulder blades as he steered her towards the exit. As they walked into the reception, Emmy stopped dead and he heard Brooke who was walking along at his other side mutter an ‘uh-oh’.

“This her?” A short, squat woman with a very short hair cut was stood a few feet in front of him, a boy by her side, a few inches taller than her, dressed in a bloodied T-shirt glared at Emmy and nodded. Instantly Steve moved forward a step so he was level with his daughter, his hand dropping to her shoulder.

“Your daughter broke my son’s nose.” The woman glared up at him.

“So I understand.” Steve nodded. “She has been suspended and we’ll be dealing with it appropriately.”

“You know, kids like her, they shouldn’t be-”

“Kids like her?” Steve blinked at the woman, and shook his head. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” Steve’s voice was low. “So, please, explain.”

“I mean with violent and aggressive tendencies, they should be locked up not in a school with normal kids-” “Woah, now hang on.” Steve held his hand up as he looked at the woman. “Your son isn’t exactly innocent in all this.” “I don’t see your daughter with blood all over her shirt. He didn’t hit her…” “I would hope not, seeing as he’s a boy and half a foot taller than her.” He shot back and the woman’s mouth snapped shut. Steve turned to Emmy and handed her the backpack and his keys. “Go and get in the car, sweetheart, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Emmy glanced up at him, one look on his face told her he wasn’t to be argued with, and she nodded and took them from him, before leaving.

His attention then turned to the teenager and woman and he folded his arms across his chest, glaring at them both. The boy had a sharp face, slicked back blonde hair and for some reason he reminded Steve of a younger Gilmore Hodge. Which was never a good thing. He looked at the woman and spoke again, his voice level but full of that Captain Authority he could never help turning on in situations like this.

“Your son said some very nasty things to my daughter, and in normal circumstances he should be apologising. However, given what happened I suggest we leave it at that and they agree to stay away from one another in the future.” “Him apologise?” The woman practically shrieked. “She punched him, if anything she’s the one that should be saying sorry.” Steve gave a huff of a laugh “I can assure you that won’t be happening. Besides,” he turned to the boy, “do you really want an apology from a ‘fucking orphan rat’?”

He heard a snigger followed by a mumble of “mic drop…” to his right and turned to see Brooke was still there.

“What are-” he shot her a look, pointing towards the class rooms, “-scoot.” “Later Mr R.” Brooke shot him a salute and he raised an eyebrow as she headed off back to wherever she should have been in the first place.

“Did you say that?” The woman had rounded on her son.

“No…I swear.” “He said he didn’t.” Steve shook his head, his hands dropping to the buckle of his belt. “I’m not interested in whether he admits it or not. Fact of the matter is I believe my daughter and according to her and her friend, Emmy isn’t the first kid he’s picked on but I’m sure as hell hoping she’s gonna be the last, especially now he’s had a punch in the face to make him consider the consequences of his actions.” His lips quirked a little at the side as he delivered his final line. “I’d hate for him to get antoher.” “How dare you threaten him?” The woman was now talking in that high a pitch it was making Steve’s ears hurt.

“That isn’t a threat.” Steve shook his head “Merely an observation. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to the door when the woman spluttered after him “You know, we do know where you live. That big, fancy house in Clinton Hill.” “Then by all means feel free to call round later.” Steve laughed as he turned to grin at the woman of her shoulder. “But I really don’t fancy your chances against my wife.” ****** “He said WHAT?” Katie spluttered once Steve had explained what had gone on. “The little fucking shit!” “His mother wasn’t much better either.” Steve shook his head as he raised Jamie up higher in the air above him, the tot screaming with laughter. “She threatened to come round later.” “I’ll kick her fucking ass!” Katie folded her arms across her chest and a wry smile crossed Steve’s face as he brought Jamie back down to his chest.

“Yeah I told her I didn’t fancy her chances.”

“Where’s Emmy now?” Katie asked.

“In her room, she said she wanted to be alone for a bit.”

Katie pondered for a moment, before she moved and walked out of the kitchen, calling up the stairs, “Emmy? Can you come down for a minute please?”

Katie came back into the kitchen and it wasn’t long before Emmy appeared, her eyes red. Katie sighed and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I just, ” Emmy sniffed. “He was so rude and…” “Sweetie, we’re not mad.” Katie shook her head, steering the girl across the hall “We just want to talk to you, about what he said,” she gestured at one of the seats by the breakfast bar, “sit.”

Emmy did as she was told and Steve placed Jamie in the pack and play at the corner of the room. There was a minute or so silence before Katie slid a mug of hot chocolate, containing marshmallows and cream across the counter to Emmy, then passed Steve a coffee, picking up her own drink before she rounded the counter and sat on a stool next to Emmy, Steve staying where he was, the base of his back leaning against the worktop opposite them.

“So your dad told me what happened.” Katie began “And we want to talk to you about what that little jerk said to you.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to me.” Emmy shrugged “I know what he was saying was crap but…” “If your dad had a dollar for every time he had reacted to something he shouldn’t have done he’d be richer than Tony.” Katie smiled and Steve gave a scoff.

“You’re a fine one to talk.” He raised an eyebrow at his wife and she grinned.

“And as for throwing you out once you’re old enough,” Katie shook her head, “you’re with us for as long as you wanna be. And then even when you don’t want to be, and you move out, we’ll be keeping tabs on you, annoying you, like Tony does to me.”

Emmy smiled and wiped at her eyes.

“You said he’s been picking on you for a while?” Steve asked “What made you snap today?” Emmy shrugged “I guess I was just fed up with it and when he was laughing about my name on my test paper, and he called me an orphan rat I saw red.” Katie took a deep breath, she was furious but before she could say anything Steve spoke, a frown creasing his brow.

“What do you mean he was laughing at your name?” “My surname.” Emmy shrugged “On stuff like the register and things at school its Rogers but on my official test papers for my grades it has to be McKellen, because Rogers isn’t my real name. And he was laughing saying that I didn’t belong anywhere.” Steve and Katie locked eyes and Steve was the first one to break away.

“Does it bother you, that your name isn’t Rogers?”

“Not normally.” She shrugged

“What if we made it so?” Katie asked.

“What, like change it legally?” “That’s one way of doing it.” Steve shrugged.  “The other is we adopt you.” Katie looked at her husband and smiled. This was something they’d mentioned in passing to one another a few times but never really talked about in any detail as, well, to them things were fine as they were. But now, well, it just felt right. The next step for them all. Making her status as their daughter official.

“Adopt me?” Emmy’s voice was a whisper.

“Yeah.” Katie nodded. “Look, Em, as far as we’re concerned you’re already our daughter, and not just a foster one either. It’s merely a formality. But it’s up to you.” “Do you want to think about it?” Steve asked.

“No.” Emmy shook her head as she looked up tears in her eyes. “No, I don’t want to think about it. I’d love it, I really would.” Katie smiled as the girl threw her arms round her shoulders and began to sob. Steve put his mug down on the counter next to him and strode round to wrap his large arms around both his girls until a loud screech form the corner of the room made them all look up. Jamie was stood gripping the side of his play pen, clearly disgruntled at being left out of the hug.

“Alright pal, point taken.” Steve picked him up and carried him back to where Emmy was now wiping her eyes. He handed the tot to his older sister and Katie grinned.

“Family hug?” She opened her arms and Emmy laughed, as the four of them snuggled together in a huddle.

*****

March 2021

Despite Steve’s best attempts to ignore it, there was something in what that little shit had said to Emmy that had really bothered him.  The Avengers fucked up. It wasn’t an alien thought, he often found himself thinking back to how they had failed but he normally shook himself out of it. They’d done the best they could, they simply hadn’t stood a chance.

The thing was, not all of the public saw that. On more than one occasion the remaining Avengers had all experienced some kind of vitriol from the public, Natasha still receiving hate mail for them all at the compound. Whilst people he met understood, it was always the ones that didn’t which stuck in Steve’s mind, but he’d never had anything more than the odd whispered insult or dirty look come his way, that was until a few day’s after Jamie’s first birthday.

He was in the store with Emmy, picking up a few bits and pieces for the family gathering they were having to celebrate Jamie turning one and he could feel someone’s eyes on him, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was the tap on the shoulder her received as he tossed a few items from the list Katie had given him into the trolley.

“I thought it was you.”

Steve turned to see a dark haired man, the same height as him looking back.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked politely.

The man snorted “I thought at one point, yeah, but you didn’t, this…us…what the world is now, it’s all your fault.” Steve took a deep breath, and spotted Emmy returning to the aisle he was in with an armful of snacks he had sent her for.

“Sir-” Steve began, trying to placate the man but before he could do anything the guy had punched him straight in the face. It wasn’t a hard blow, but Steve hadn’t been expecting it. Or the subsequent blows for that matter.

He was vaguely aware Emmy was screaming, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a security guard hurrying towards him. Before he reached them, Emmy had kicked the man hard in the shin and was shouting at him, as he hopped on his good leg. Steve doubled over, the ringing in his ears subsiding as he pinched at his nose which was streaming blood.

“Oh my God.” A female voice said “Billy, what…” she looked up at Steve and paled “Captain, oh God, I’m so sorry…he’s…” Steve waved away another member of the public who had come to help, insisting he was fine. Taking a deep breath he looked up and saw the man was now crying, his head buried into his wife’s shoulders.

“We…we lost our son.” The lady continued, with a choked voice. “He hasn’t dealt with it so well.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve bowed his head, it was all he could think to say.

“It isn’t you fault” The lady shook her head. “And he doesn’t think that, not really, it’s just we never got a proper explanation, you know, bar official government statements. No real help to come to terms with anything.” ��That doesn’t mean he can just punch the crap outta my dad!” Emmy blazed, indignantly and Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. “Emmy.” He shook his head gently before he turned to the woman. “I’m sorry that no one was there for you and I’m sorry that we couldn’t do more. But we tried.” The last three words were almost a plea to her, trying to make her understand they had tried, boy did they try. She cast him another sad look before she led her husband away.

“You ok?” Steve looked down at his daughter.

“Me?” She frowned “What about you?” “Had worse.” Steve mumbled, gently touching his nose “Let’s get out stuff and get home before it starts to set. I don’t fancy having to re-break it.”

**** Katie was sat smiling as Natasha was holding Jamie up, his hands curled round her fingers as she guided him round the living room.

“Won’t be long until he’s doing this himself.” The red head smiled, and Katie grinned.

“He’s growing so fast.” 

“Think you’ll have another?” Nat looked at her.

Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, Steve would have a football team full if I let him but, who knows.”

Nat smiled and Katie’s attention turned back to her son who was toddling in front of his Auntie. He was looking more and more like his father each day and was now a substantial little chunk who was pretty strong and robust too. Small bumps and knocks didn’t seem to phase him at all, and the other day he’d been playing with a tonka truck and had fallen onto it, flattening it completely. He’d screamed blue murder, more over the fact his toy was broken than he had been hurt, but it had made both his parents realise that he was definitely half Super Soldier and wasn’t inheriting any of Steve’s pre-serum ailments, much to Steve’s relief.

Their attention was taken as all three of them heard the car pull up the gravel drive and Jamie gave an excited giggle and started moving his legs even faster at the sound, understanding it to mean his father was back. Smiling to herself, Katie watched as he giggled and started trying to run to the door, and when it opened she looked up fully expecting Steve to grin and swoop his boy up into his arms, except what greeted her made her hand fly up to her mouth. His shirt was covered with blood and his nose was out of shape.

“Shit.” Katie stood up and headed straight to him, gently reaching up to slide a finger to his face, tilting it so she could see. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine sweetheart” he said gently.

“What the hell happened?” Nat asked as she picked Jamie up, who was still squirming to get to his father, completely nonplussed by what was going on.

“Some guy in the store punched him.” Emmy explained, and Katie looked at her daughter, whose eyes were swollen, she’d been crying.

“What? Why?” she frowned. “Em, can you grab me an ice pack out the freezer?” Steve asked before she could answer, she was upset enough as it was and he didn’t want her seeing or hearing what was coming next. She nodded and headed off.

“Steve.” Katie watched as he sat down on the sofa, shaking his head.

“Just reset it before it starts to heal anymore.” He grumbled. “Quickly before she gets back.”

Katie sat next to him and reached out gently. He grit his teeth as she snapped his nose back into place. Across the room Nat flinched at the crunching noise it made.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed softly before laying his head back against the cushions of the couch steadying his breathing as his eyes began to water from the pain. He knew it would heal quickly but that didn’t stop it hurting like hell.

“You gonna tell us what happened?” Katie asked, looking at him.

“Some guy at the store recognised me and started screaming that it was all our fault, the Snap, and hit me.”

“Must have been a pretty hard swing.” Nat said gently, bouncing Jamie up and down, distracting him with the Cap teddy bear she had grabbed off the floor. Jamie grinned at the bear and grabbed it, sticking the ear of it into his mouth.

“He didn’t just hit you once, Dad.” Emmy said gently as she returned, passing him the ice pack.

“How many times was it?” Katie frowned.

“Four ,maybe.” he shrugged

“Try Six” Emmy muttered.

“Six?!” Katie’s voice grew loud

“And you just let him?” Nat’s snorted. “What else could I do Nat?” Steve sighed, “I couldn’t hit him back…” “Yes, you damned well could!” Katie seethed. “Fuck!”

“Language.” Steve chastised playfully. “Besides, wasn’t really going to hit him once Em had kicked him in the shin.”

“You kicked him?” Katie looked at Emmy who shrugged.

“He was screaming and punching so I kicked him, real hard, and then told him that he was an asshole, and everyone had lost, and that he should try fighting Thanos in a field in Wakanda himself if he could do any better…” “Then the guy’s wife appeared.” Steve sighed, pressing the ice pack to his face.

“Yeah, she was nice.” Emmy nodded. “Said they had lost their son and she was so sorry.” “But they’d never really had a chance to ask questions or had an explanation other than what the Government had said.” Steve’s voice was muffled slightly from the pack. “But it got me thinking in the car about how many other people out there like that.” “So we had an idea.” Emmy nodded “Support groups.” “Support groups?” Katie frowned.

“Yeah, we have them at school.” Emmy said “Somewhere for people to go and talk about their issues and feelings.” “That’s actually not a bad idea.” Nat mused and Steve nodded.

“I know. Surprised we didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Well we’ve had other things on our minds.” Katie popped a shoulder, gently.

“I’m gonna help.” Emmy smiled. “We’re gonna brainstorm ideas later after the party.”

“Yeah, on that, do me a favour and no one mention this to Tony when he gets here.” Steve groaned as he stood up, ice pack still on his nose. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

Leaving Emmy to watch Jamie, Nat and Katie unloaded the car and took the supplies to the kitchen. Steve showered quickly and came back to help them, and it wasn’t long before the food was sorted, Katie’s ability to cook how easily she did never ceased to amaze Steve. Before long the gang arrived and Morgan toddled in, holding Tony’s hand before he let go and she bee-lined for Emmy who was sat on the living room floor where she had been sat looking at a book with Jamie.

“Hey Moo!” Emmy grinned at the younger girl who sat with a soft thud next to her, leaning into her older cousin for a hug.

Tony watched them for a short while before he asked if Emmy was okay and then headed into the kitchen to find Pepper already clutching a glass of champagne. Katie handed him a beer as she pulled him into a hug and he shook Steve’s hand.

“You’re in the same room as usual.” Katie looked at him. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted Moo in with you guys or not so there’s the travel cot in there or she can have the room over from you…” “She can stay with us.” Tony nodded, taking a pull from his beer.

“Where is she?”  Natasha asked.

“With Emmy. She adores that kid.”

“Have you told her the paperwork has been finalised?” Pepper asked looking at Katie and Steve who both shook their head.

“No, we’re gonna surprise her with that later.” Katie smiled.

“We got her a little something.” Tony swallowed his beer. “You know, just to welcome her officially to the mad house.” “What is it?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“Nothing Iron Man or Tony Stark related.” Pepper looked at Steve. “I promise.” Tony shrugged. “Spoil sport.” The five adults all headed into the large living room, Jamie grinned up at his uncle and crawled over to him. Tony swung him up in the air and smiled, that is until Jamie head-butted him by accident.

“Oww…shhhhhhhhugar!” The billionaire corrected his curse before wincing. “Man, Rogers, this kid has your knuckle head.” Steve smirked. “He’s still half Stark.”

“Mind you, you should be grateful he doesn’t take after his mom. She was a horror.” “Was not.” Katie shot back indignantly. “Kiddo, you were a pain in the ass.” Tony sniggered. “You stuck bread in the VCR. Dad hit the roof.” “I thought it was a toaster.” Katie shrugged as the room laughed. “Mind you, not like we have to worry about that now seeing as VCRs went out in the stone age.” “Was that an age joke?” Tony smirked. “Do I have to respond with one about your husband or…” Steve rolled his eyes “Go ahead, be original.” “You know you’re almost as sarcastic as she is now.” Nat but in, pointing at Katie who grinned before she looked at Tony.

“You remember what dad used to say?”

“Sarcasm is a measure of potential,” Tony imitated their father’s voice. “And if that’s true…” “You’ll be a great man someday.” Katie finished, the two of them laughing.

Despite the crappy start to the day, it was a nice afternoon surrounded by their family. They drank, ate and eventually it was time for the cake which Katie and Steve were excited about, for good reason. Katie placed it down on the coffee table in the middle of the lounge, complete with candles. For the first time the group got a look at it, and Steve heard Emmy gasp. Half the large cake was iced in blue, the other half was lilac and across the top the word ‘Happy’ spanned both halves, before the next line read birth on the blue side and adoption on the other, before the word day sat underneath.

Emmy glanced up at her parents, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean…” Steve grinned and handed her the envelope he’d retrieved from the kitchen, which she took in shaking hands. “Signed, sealed, done. You’re officially a Rogers, Em.”

“Poor thing.” Tony mumbled, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Natasha.

Together the Rogers’ children blew out their candles (well, Katie blowing Jamie’s out on his behalf before the boy could grab one of them and burn himself) and then Emmy turned to look at Steve and Katie before throwing herself forwards, her arms round both their waists. Steve’s arm fell to her back and he pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek before Tony stepped forward and handed Emmy a small gift bag.

“It’s just a little something.” He smiled. “Just to say welcome to the family, officially we mean, because you’re already part of the…” He rolled his eyes as Emmy blinked up at him. “Just take it, kid.”

Emmy took the bag and opened it, her eyes widening as she looked at the box, emblazoned with the word Pandora. Katie peered down as Emmy opened it and smiled at the charm bracelet which was inside. It held charms, the letters EJR for her initials, Emily Jayne Rogers.

“Thank you.” She whispered before she gave Tony a hug, then Pepper. She stepped back and turned around, her eyes brimming with tears. “This is the best day ever!”

And despite the shitty start to it in the store, Steve was inclined to agree it hadn’t been that bad at all.

Chapter 47

 **Original Posting**

[sevlgi]

heal

requested: yes

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, questionable fluff

contents: idol!jennie, established relationship, hurt and comfort

warnings: death of reader’s family, grief

synopsis: As the older one in the relationship, Jennie will always protect you, especially as you heal.

a/n: I hope I wrote a decent representation of grief? if I haven’t or you need me to change something, please let me know and I’ll do my best to correct it.

word count: 1.6k

To Jennie, the absolute worst feeling in the world is seeing you in pain.

Your relationship is usually pretty lighthearted; both of you enjoy bantering and teasing, and your days are filled with laughter. Of course that doesn’t mean that you don’t have hard days, though it took your girlfriend a little time to realize the signs of you feeling down, and even longer for you to open up about it.

On the days that you do feel down, for whatever reason, Jennie’s absolutely determined to support you through it, and she knows you’ll do the same for her. She’s older, so she always feels the responsibility to protect you, even as you assure her it’s not her job.

As of late, she’s had to do it a bit more often, though she’s sure you don’t realize how you’re falling apart. She can’t blame you for it, obviously; the news that your relative is terminally ill has got to hit hard.

Still, it’s unsettling for you to be acting so differently, without even a hint of a smile on your face and a frantic look in your eyes. You don’t sleep until 3 or 4 in the morning, staying up through time zones to call your relative’s doctors. You forget to eat, and Jennie doesn’t think you recognize that you’ve worn the same sweatshirt for weeks on end.

It’s up to her to take care of you, and while she’s happy to do so, your girlfriend hates the circumstances it’s under. Usually, she’d love the opportunity to be the caring, sweet partner who makes food and gently reminds you to eat, who tucks you in when you fall asleep on the couch.

Jennie tries to be there for your calls with the doctor, just in case something terrible and unexpected happens and she needs to support you. Today, it pays off.

“What… what do you mean?”

She stops in her tracks, on her way to grab some snacks from the kitchen, when she hears the quaver in your voice. There’s genuine fear in your eyes, lips parted in dread. “She’s… she’s gone?”

A broken sob leaves you just as Jennie reaches you, her hands on your shoulders steading you as you slump forward. She grabs the phone when you let it slip out of your hand, and places it on speaker. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Y/L/N. Your relative died this morning, we’ve only been able to reach you now. We will contact you with assistance to plan the funeral, if that’s what you want.”

You’re unable to answer, already crying into your girlfriend’s shoulder. Each heaving breath you take feels like a sharp stab to the heart, but Jennie steels herself to say, “I’m sorry, Doctor, we’ll have to call you back about this.”

She barely manages to hang up before she has to wrap her arms around you fully, pressing her face into your hair as tears threaten to prick at her own eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Even though you don’t reply, Jennie continues with soothing words that feel empty even to her ears, smoothing your hair and simply letting you break down. 

There’s nothing that could possibly hurt more than seeing you like this.

You don’t get out of bed the next day, and Jennie doesn’t ask you to. You’re already awake when she opens her eyes in the morning, and she presses a kiss to your temple before going to get ready.

There’s no way she can leave you alone in this state, so while she makes breakfast, Jennie makes a call to Jisoo. “Yeah. I can’t explain, but I need to be there for Y/N,” she whispers, eyes lingering on the door she left half-open.

“I got it. I’ll explain to Chaeng and Lisa, and I’m sure our managers will understand. Please tell Y/N that we all feel terrible for her loss.” Despite the muffled quality of Jisoo’s voice, Jennie can hear the sympathy, and she thanks her member before hanging up.

The entire day is lonely without your constant presence; it’s weird to eat breakfast without you, and it’s even weirder to spend the day lounging around the living room and guest room to try and give you space.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all quietly left on the desk inside your shared bedroom, and Jennie takes the full plates away without complaint before bed.

“Good night, jagi,” she whispers before going to sleep; the only response she gets from you is a sniffle that breaks her heart.

The next day, Jennie’s forced to make a very awkward phone call to your boss explaining your situation. You actually sit up in bed that day, and your girlfriend is at least able to make you drink some tea and have a few bites of food, though you refuse any more.

It’s all a part of the healing process, she knows, but at the same time, Jennie wants to cry every time she sees your empty eyes and sunken face.

The next week or so pass without incident, the days of wasting time in the living room and making uneaten food blurring together.

Almost a full 2 weeks later, Jennie has to record a sample of her singing for her producer; she tries to do it as quietly as possible in the living room and doesn’t think you hear her, but you speak for the first time in a while that night.

“You sounded good today.” Your voice is raspy from unuse, and Jennie looks up, surprised, at the sound of it. “I’m sorry you can’t go to practice because of me.”

Your girlfriend shakes her head, abandoning her shirt and taking your hands into hers. “No, baby, I’m happy to take care of you. You need me right now, and you’re the most important thing, okay?”

“Okay.” You watch Jennie continue to fold clothing, and you speak up again after a little bit of time. “You can keep singing and practicing. If you want. It makes me happy to hear you sing.”

The familiar gummy smile on Jennie’s face almost makes you smile in return, and she can barely hide her glee at getting an almost-reaction.

A few weeks later, you’re able to get out of bed again, though you usually return to the bedroom after making tea or just having a bite of food. You have showers and wash your face when you feel up to it, even if it’s not often. Still, it’s progress and Jennie’s delighted.

You insist that it’s okay for her to go back to work, but your girlfriend is still worried about it. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” she asks again, looking worriedly at the 3 full meals she’s prepared and set on the counter.

The faintest hint of amusement shows on your face as you lean against the doorframe. “I’m fine, Jen. really. You’ve been consumed by me, and you don’t have to be. I promise I’ll call if I need anything.”

“Text me every few hours, okay?” she frowns, looking back even when she’s halfway out the door. “Promise me!”

“Promise.” You raise your hand in goodbye, sighing lightly.

Jennie’s the best girlfriend you could ever ask for, and you’re nothing short of grateful for how much she cares about you. Still, you feel guilty for holding her back. The least you can do is take care of yourself.

Your girlfriend is relieved to find you asleep with at least some of the food eaten when she comes back to work, and she presses a kiss to your neck when she gets into bed. “I love you, Y/N,” she whispers even though you can’t hear her.

It takes a bit of time, but you’re able to hold full conversations with Jennie soon, and even make jokes. You’re still a subdued version of yourself, but you even go back to worst against Jennie’s protests.

She falls in love all over again the day she hears your real laugh again; you’ve agreed to go out with her, even just to get some coffee at a shop a block away. “What?” you chuckle, cup pausing halfway to your mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I love you.” It’s not like Jennie’s never said it before, but a rosy flush rises to your cheeks, and she smiles even larger. “You don’t have to say it back, I know you’re still hurt, but-”

“Love you too, Jendeukie,” you cut her off. “I love you too. Thank you so much.”

Your girlfriend raises her eyebrows, sipping at her own drink. “Hm? For what?”

“For... dealing with me. I know it can’t have been easy taking care of me for so long, you didn’t have to do all this for me. You took time off work, did all those things for me while I was bedridden. I know I didn’t talk about it, but I really appreciate it.”

Sighing, Jennie squeezes your hand over the table. “Y/N-ah. I’m your girlfriend, and I love you. I’m older, too, so it’s my responsibility to take care of you. When I said I’d support you through anything, I meant anything, okay?”

“I know. But I still want you to know how much I love you for all you’ve done.”

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Jennie offers you another small smile. “I’d do anything for you, and I’m never going to leave. I promise.”

As you return her smile, your girlfriend can only grin at you. You’re still healing, and she knows it’ll take a while, but Jennie will be there with you every step of the way.

After all, it’s her job to protect you.

[fanfictionaries]

The Seduction of Sirius Black - Part 1

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Sirius Black

Summary:

Hermione loves her boyfriend, but there’s just one little problem -- she’s hopelessly attracted to Sirius Black. 

Warnings: Swearing, Smut/18+ NSFW, Angst, Ron bashing (sorry) 

Author’s Note: Posting some old stuff! Honestly, editing it has been a nice lead back into really writing. Very cathartic! 

Also, apologies for the Ron bashing in this story. I know it’s a stupid trope and to a certain extent I really enjoy Ron as a character, buuuuut I’m using it as a cheap way to move plot. 

ALSO, this is obviously a AU where Sirius didn’t die in the Department of Mysteries. 

ALSO (and this is the last one I swear), I AM a big fan of Wolfstar but I also have daddy issues and find Sirius Black extremely attractive and this is my tumblr so I can write the stories I want I guess. Haha Not to mention, Sirius Black gives BIG bisexual energy.  

MASTERLIST

*** 

Hermione didn’t really know when it had happened – this attraction to Sirius Black. It wasn’t as if she had woken up one day with the sudden urge to jump across the table and shag the older wizard into the next life. The whole thing had occurred much more gradually than that, she supposed. However, despite all of the trivial aspects of her…situation, Hermione chose instead to focus purely on the fact that he was entirely off limits. For many reasons. There was no way anyone in her close-knit circle of friends would be okay with her becoming entangled with a man more than twice her age and who also happened to be her best friend’s god father. It would be unacceptable. It would be impractical. Most of all it would be highly inappropriate as she was currently dating her other best friend, Ronald Weasley.

She supposed the attraction was inevitable to a certain degree. At the beginning, nearly a year and half ago, things like physical attraction were far from her mind. She’d just started her new position at the Ministry, Harry and Ron were training to be Aurors, the war had just come to an end and thus her life was a whirlwind of people and places. But over time things slowed down. Ronald was stationed away on official Auror business more and more often, leaving very little time for him to visit her and when he did come back, he had to split his time between her and his large family. Harry, having waited for Ginny to finish her final year at Hogwarts, had gone and married her the summer after and for all intents and purposes abandoned her. Harry…

It was really all Harry’s fault. Or at least that’s what Hermione liked to think whenever she felt her heart skip and her pulse slip between her thighs in Sirius Black’s presence. It had been Harry’s idea for Hermione to move into Grimmauld Place with him and Sirius after the war. Family, it seemed, had taken an important role in everyone’s lives when Lord Voldemort fell for the final time. All of the Weasley children had moved back to their childhood home of the Burrow – even Charlie much to everyone’s great surprise and delight. Tonks and Remus moved in with her mother and father, Andromeda and Theodore, to bask in the cheer of their newborn baby Teddy. And Harry had moved in with Sirius. Everyone had felt the need to be closer than ever to the ones that they loved, and Hermione completely understood that need. In fact, if she had had a family to go to, she would have moved in with them as well. But her parents were still in Australia somewhere, the location even unknown to herself as she’d designed it that way. Harry, being fully aware of this fact, insisted that she move in with him and Sirius. Hermione had been fully prepared to get her own flat in London. But after a bit of prodding she’d accepted Harry’s offer, secretly grateful that her best friend was so kind and thoughtful. Now, she probably cursed him name at least five times a day.

Hermione had been happy for him and Ginny when they announced their engagement. She’d cried not only when Ginny asked her to be her maid of honor, but also when the two had said their ‘I do’s. However, Harry moved out of Grimmauld Place following their marriage and subsequently left her to live with Sirius Black all by herself. So now she sat in the quaint little kitchen of the Black home, sipping her morning tea, and trying incredibly hard to keep her attention on her book rather than glance up at the rugged wizard sitting across from her.

“Hmpf” Sirius let out the little sound of surprise before continuing, “Would you look at that. Sources say that while Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, announces no final decisions have been made in regard to the recent Magical Creature Equality Act proposed last month, there are certain voices in the Ministry that are persuading not only the members of the Wizengamot, but the Minister himself to vote yes for magical creature equality.” He read the words aloud, peaking over his paper at her and raising his eyebrows. “I wonder who those certain voices or voice is…” he mused humorously.

It was no secret that shortly after being appointed a position in the Ministry department of Magical Creatures, Hermione had gone about being a personal activist for Magical Creature rights. Merlin, she had written almost the entire Act herself. Her hand still cramped at the thought of the hours she spent in her office and the library at Grimmauld Place scribbling away with her quill.

“No idea,” Hermione responded, feigning ignorance but blushing all the same in embarrassment. She kept her eyes on the pages of her book but found no matter how many times she read and reread the same paragraph she couldn’t retain it. Slowly her eyes shifted to the man in front of her. His gaze was fixed on the paper and so she was free to take him in. He had just showered, his wavy brown hair hanging damp to his shoulders. It made him look, in her opinion, especially delectable that morning. Hermione felt herself blush even deeper at the lewd thoughts threatening to enter her mind before looking back down at her book and scolding herself.

“So, when is Ronald coming for a visit again? Need me to clear off any time soon?” Sirius asked, sparking up conversation after the long bout of silence.

“Unfortunately, he won’t be back till next month,” she sighed, ignoring the second half of Sirius’s question.

“Well that’s not too bad I suppose—” Sirius smiled warmly and set down his paper as he stood up “—It gives you plenty of time to focus on getting the Ministry on board with your Act before you’re…distracted.” Sirius added the last part with a teasing implication not lost on Hermione.

“My Act?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow jokingly as she stood up as well and took her teacup to the sink. She grabbed the sponge to begin washing up when Sirius took it from her hand.

“I can do the washing up. You’re going to be late for work. Besides, it’s not like I work or anything. Might as well do something productive today,” he stated dryly, turning on the tap.

“Hmm, yes. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You’ve become quite the lay-about. When are you going to get a job and start contributing to the household?” Hermione asked cheekily.

“Lay-about? Need I remind you that this is my house that you live in, rent free. You’re lucky a kind old man like me has taken a liking to you, or you’d be on the streets, kitten,” Sirius said, flicking some water off his fingertips in her direction.

“More like taken pity on me—” Hermione shook her head “—and you’re far from an old man, Sirius. I swear, you’d like people to think you’re closer to eighty than twenty!” She exited the kitchen and slipped into her heels next to the front door.

“Mind picking up some milk on your way home, kitten? We’re almost out!” Sirius called out to her, ignoring her statement on his age. Hermione tried not to focus on the way her stomach flipped in response to Sirius using his nickname for her for a second time that morning.

“Sure thing!” she called back before exiting the front door and apparating the moment she hit the sidewalk.

Hermione found it very difficult to work that day. The summer heat had become abysmal, proving to be quite the sticky, humid season, and of course that meant the Ministry’s cooling charms were on the fritz. By the time the day was over, Hermione’s hair had grown three times its size. Catching her reflection in a Ministry window, Hermione had gasped at its state. Even she hadn’t known it could get that big. In addition, her silk blouse that she had tucked into a polyester pencil skirt had become damp and uncomfortable from the sweat that accumulated on her body throughout the day.  And even after casting multiple drying spells to herself and her clothes, there was still nothing she could do about her hair. To add to her physical discomfort, she also struggled with a mental discomfort as well. Ron had been plaguing her mind all day long.

Ronald Weasley. Her oldest friend, now boyfriend. It hadn’t been a shock to anyone when they had gotten together after the war had ended. It had almost been expected in fact. She’d liked him since third year and aside from his short tryst with Lavender Brown, it had been obvious they would be together. Hermione loved Ron, she really did, but he was gone so often. Gone often and when he was home things felt…off. His affection seemed to have waned and Hermione was left thinking that perhaps it had something to do with her. Every time he chose to kiss her cheek as opposed to her lips or pat her leg friendly instead of holding her hand Hermione felt a little blow to her confidence. Bitterly she thought of how he and Lavender had been all over each other sixth year. She certainly wouldn’t enjoy having Ron’s tongue shoved down her throat in broad daylight, but surely, it’d be nice to have him show a bit of affection. In the beginning he’d been much more enthusiastic. They would often sneak off for a cheeky snog and hands often lingered under tables. They’d even gone all the way. It had been romantic and sweet, and Ron had certainly enjoyed himself. Or at least she thought he had. But now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she’d been rubbish at it and he didn’t know how to tell her. Maybe he just didn’t find her attractive anymore. She had put on a bit of weight in the past year and a half. Hermione figured it was for the best as she was no longer starving to death on the run from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. But now when she looked in the mirror her eyes focused for too long on the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the thickness of her thighs, and the softness of her stomach.

Despite this possibility, Hermione couldn’t help but feel guilty about her lustful thoughts involving Sirius. She often tried to reason with herself that it was perfectly normal to feel such base emotions. Everyone had them and as long as she didn’t act on them, she was fine. She was just lonely, and Sirius was there.

Resolving to speak with Ron about her concerns when he returned in a week, Hermione shook the troubling thoughts from her head and continued down Diagon Alley, intending to just pop by the small corner store at the end for some milk and maybe some ice-cream for later. She needed a small pick-me-up after the day she’d had. Jogging the last few steps to the corner store, Hermione pulled open the heavy door and sighed happily as the cooling charms inside enveloped her. She wiped her forehead with her arm and headed to the back of the store where the freezer section was. The store was practically deserted aside from a single witch staring at the ice pops with a heavy look of concentration. Hermione walked up next to her to stare at the ice-cream choices and smiled when she spotted the Rocky Road. It was Ron’s favorite.

“It’s a scorcher out there, innit?” commented the witch, her thick London accent coming through endearingly sweet. Hermione looked to her left and took in the girl. She was thin and tan with beautiful golden hair tied up into a long ponytail. She had a friendly, heart-shaped face and sparkly green eyes. Something about her seemed familiar – Hermione must have seen her somewhere before.

“I’m practically melting,” agreed Hermione, shaking her head, and grabbing the Rocky Road, thinking she would have that tonight rather than her usual Mint Chocolate-Chip.

“Any fun plans for the heat?” the pretty blonde asked casually, grabbing a box of grape ice pops and a carton of Rocky Road ice-cream as well.

“Not really. Probably just go home and cast as many cooling charms as possible—” Hermione crinkled her nose and quirked the corner of her mouth in a wry grin “—Yourself?”

“Me and my boyfriend are planning a nice night in. He’s just got back from assignment with the Ministry. He’s an Auror, so we’re doing a bit of celebrating before he has to go back.” The girl smiled, her voice heavy with adoration.

“How nice! My boyfriend’s an Auror as well.”

“Really?” the girl asked, eyes lighting up.

“Yes, he’s actually away on assignment right now. I wonder if they know—” Hermione had been about to ask if perhaps their respective partners were familiar with each other when a voice called out from the end of the aisle.

“Babe, they didn’t have the crisps you like, but—” Basket hanging from one hand and a bag of Salt and Vinegar crisps in the other, Ron stopped dead in his tracts at the sight of Hermione. His eyes grew wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “’Mione?”

Hermione stared back too, but unlike Ron she was unable to find her voice. Instead she just stared. Ron was back from assignment? Why hadn’t he told her? What was he doing there? Why was he calling this girl babe when—

“Wait—‘Mione? As in Hermione Granger?” the witch asked, taking a step back from Hermione and towards Ron. She looked at Hermione with wide, incredulous eyes. “Oh my gosh, I feel so foolish. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”

Hermione looked on in confusion as she watched the witch hook her arm in Ron’s and smile politely back at her.

“Hermione,” Ron said her name again, but Hermione was too busy taking the two of them in. She felt like an absolute fool. The carton of Rocky Road slipped from her fingers and landed on the linoleum floor of the shop with a dull thud. Then, in a panic, Hermione turned on the spot and fled, hearing Ron’s call after her mix with a small ‘Oh my’ from the pretty blonde witch.

There were a million places Hermione could have gone. There were a million places Hermione should have gone. All of them much better choices than the seedy little muggle bar she found just outside of Diagon Alley. She should have gone home. Or to Harry. Or to Ginny. The smart choice was to tell someone what had happened and to talk it out. But instead, she spent the next four hours doing her best to get well and truly pissed. Drinking wasn’t like Hermione and certainly the first glass of whiskey had been hard to get down. But she found after the first two, she hardly tasted the biting liquid anymore and the dulling effect of the alcohol was just so nice.

It was just past ten in the evening when Hermione left the bar, tipping this way and that way in her heels and feeling exceptionally light-headed. The night had cooled down and the sun had just set, allowing Hermione to feel some semblance of relief as she walked down the street to a nearby alleyway. It probably wasn’t the best idea to apparate when she was so inebriated, but Hermione wasn’t really thinking in that moment. She just knew she didn’t want to walk. Thankfully, she managed to land, although very ungracefully, in front of Grimmauld Place without splinching herself.

“Shit,” Hermione whispered followed by a snort of laughter when she tripped over the threshold after finally getting her key in the keyhole. The world had gone all wobbly it had taken her ages to find the right key and get it in the lock. Closing the front door as quietly behind her as possible Hermione found herself overtaken by the strong urge to laugh again. Hermione Granger was well and truly sloshed and for some reason she found that to be very funny.

“Hermione?”

Hermione jumped at her name, letting out a little shriek as she turned around and found Sirius standing in the hall. The hall was dark, but light streamed out through the doorway to the kitchen illuminating him in long shadows where he stood, arms crossed.

“Sirius—” Hermione held a hand to her heart, feeling it beat wildly in her chest. “I didn’t think you’d still be up.”

“It’s past eleven, where have you been?” There was a strange tone to his voice, like he was angry with her but also like he was speaking to a small, frightened animal.

Past eleven? How long had it taken her to unlock the front door?

“I was—” Hermione tripped on the rug, catching herself on the wall and letting out another little laugh “—I stopped and had a little post-work drink.” Her words were slurred, even to her own ears and she laughed again, holding a hand over mouth in embarrassment. “Well, maybe one or two post-work drinks.”

“Are you drunk, kitten?” Sirius asked, sounding amused now.

Hermione continued down the hall, getting closer and closer to Sirius. Each step was a new struggle. A trip here, a wobble there. But Hermione didn’t care. In fact, she felt…good. Free almost. “Maaaaybe,” she drawled, giggling like a small child as she closed the last bit of distance and swayed before Sirius.

He stared down at her, arms now uncrossed as he seemed to be trying to figure out whether he should be amused or concerned. Hermione’s mouth went dry. Now that she was closer, she could see him more clearly and Merlin did she see him. There was a shadow of facial hair across his square jaw, and down his neck. Hermione found herself wondering what it felt like – whether it was soft or rough. Gaze traveling down the thickness of his neck she found his upperhalf bare, the only thing covering his torso, an open robe revealing the inky black of his tattoos. She loved his tattoos. They made him look dangerous. Mysterious. Hot. His chest was free of hair, the lean muscles dipping low and high like delicious hills and valleys she’d so like to explore. In fact…she reached out a hand, her body working opposite of a clear head as her fingertips tentatively touched the smooth planes of Sirius’ chest. He was warm.

He went sort of rigid under her touch, but Hermione barely noticed. Instead she was too entranced by the feel of him. Had she ever touched him before? She didn’t think she had. Her gazed traveled further south and with it, so did her fingertips. Ghosting down the center of his chest from sternum to bellybutton, she blushed furiously at the sight of thick dark hair starting at his navel and disappearing below a pair of pajama pants that sat dangerously low on his hips. She swallowed thickly, her breath coming in thick hot puffs as her hand traveled further, barely brushing the thick hair before a hand shot out and grasped her wrist.

Hermione gasped, looking up suddenly into the stormy eyes of Sirius Black before her. He lifted her wrist to shoulder height, pulling her forward slightly as he did it. The distance between them closed even more.

“Kitten.” It was a warning. Hermione knew it. But for some reason her whiskey-idled brain didn’t care. She liked the risk behind his tone. Her body practically purred at the sound of his special nickname just for her – the irony of that sentiment lost on her in the moment.

“Yes, Sirius?” she responded, her voice coming out deep and breathy and dare she say seductive? Hermione had never sounded like that before. She kind of liked it. Looking up at him with her best attempt at innocent eyes, she waited for him to say something.

Sirius stared down at her, his face a stony mask, but a war was raging behind his eyes. Hermione’s gaze flickered from the stormy grey of his eyes to the fullness of his lips and back up. With a deep breath and a long swallow that made his Adam’s apple bob in a mouth-watering way, Sirius finally spoke.

“You should go to bed.”

Hermione huffed, a bit like a petulant child but not quite as bratty. “What if I don’t want to?”

“It wasn’t really a suggestion.” His tone was dark, and it sent a surprising thrill through Hermione’s body. Her center throbbed. Her breath hitched. Maybe it was all in her head – this thick tension between them. Or maybe it wasn’t. It was certainly taboo, this…energy radiating between them. But Hermione didn’t really care because in that moment she made the sudden realization that she could have this. She could have this and not be the bad guy. Ron was the bad guy. All those months of guilt for feeling basic human attraction and he was off shagging some beautiful, leggy blonde. But now…she didn’t have to feel guilty anymore.

Before she could stop herself, Hermione lifted up onto her toes and closed the distance between them. Their lips pressed together for a moment, firm and warm. When Sirius failed to respond, Hermione’s stomach dropped, and she made the mortifying realization that he didn’t want to kiss her. She was just beginning to pull away, an apology poised on her lips when the grip on her wrist vanished and reappeared around her waist, pulling her in tightly as Sirius’s lips claimed her own.

It all happened very quickly. A meshing of lips and teeth and tongue that left her hot, sticky, and out of breath. Before she knew it, she was being pushed up against the wall of the hallway, her back and head hitting the plaster hard, but she did not care. The only thing she could focus on was the feeling of Sirius’s lips on her own and the hot cloud of their shared breath.

His hands remained wrapped tightly around her torso, gripping the material of her blouse in his fists, but Hermione’s hands were everywhere. She wanted to touch all of him, and she was determined to do so. It wasn’t until her hands wound themselves around his neck and threaded up into his hair, gripping the strands vice-like, that Sirius broke. He let out a ragged groan before moving his hands from around her waist to her front. Grabbing the material of her blouse in each hand, he gave a great tug, not even bothering to try and unbutton it. Hermione gasped at the sound of ripping fabric and the pop of her blouse buttons. Cool air brushing her sensitive skin and the hitch in his breath made Hermione acutely aware that she was now bare to him from the waist up. She remembered the bra she’d chosen to wear that day – a thin and see-through number that cupped her breasts perfectly but left little to the imagination. He was kissing her neck then, sucking and biting in ways that left her breathless and needy. His hands covered her breasts, kneading and stroking in a gentle way that contrasted so strikingly with how he was attacking her neck.

The only thing Hermione could do in that moment was hold on for dear life. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest and when Sirius’s mouth traveled south to envelope of her nipples, she thought that actually had. She let out a low, needy moan and arched into him. Feeling bold, she slid a hand from his hair, down the firm planes of his chest and to the front of his pajama bottoms. At the feel of his hard length she whined, high and breathy. Her hand had been there for barely a moment before Sirius tore away from her, distancing himself the width of the hallway. Hermione leaned against the wall behind her, needing the stability of it to stay upright due to her still drunk nature and the shaky state of her legs.

“What?” she asked, looking at the panting man across from her with confusion.

Sirius stared at her for a moment, chest falling up and down as pieces of his thick dark hair hung in his face. Hermione tried to focus but the only thing she could think of was how much she wanted to brush that hair from his gorgeous features so she could see him more clearly.

“You’re drunk. You should go to bed,” said Sirius, his voice low and gravely and filled with an edge of regret.

“But—” Hermione hesitated, confused at his response “—I don’t understand.” She crossed the distance between them, kissing up the older wizard’s neck. Did he think she didn’t want this?

“Kitten.” Sirius’s voice was strained, but he still managed to grab Hermione’s wandering hands and push her away again. Hermione gasped at his rough touch as he pulled her off of him. “I said you should go to bed.”

Hermione stared up at him in shock for a moment before a surprising rage filled her. Was she not good enough for him? Was she not pretty enough? Did he not enjoy what they’d been doing? The hot sting of angry tears reached the inner corners of her eyes and she tore out of Sirius’s grip before stomping up the stairs towards her room with a huff.

Part 2

[masterweaverx]

The Dumbest RWBY Oneshot Ever

Weiss Schnee was feeling, all things considered, pretty good.

Sure, she hadn’t slept in something like forty-eight hours. And, alright, the immortal witch-queen of the Grimm had parked a gods-damned WHALE as large as Beacon itself on Atlas. And even after Oscar blew it (and her) up with a magic cane, there was still the voluminous horde of shadow demons it had vomited up roving her home city while innocent citizens cowered in the subway. Not to mention the monster that had broken into her own home and terrorized everyone with its creepy speech before it died, leaving behind the mangled body of some poor silver-eyed faunus and traumatizing Ruby with the gruesome implications.

And then there Ironwood going insane, declaring them all enemies of the state, infecting Penny with a lethal virus, and threatening to blow up Mantle. If her sister was to be believed he’d also killed one council members and been barely prevented from murdering one of his own Ace Ops before they contained him. And, of course, there was the tiny fact that Weiss had herself condemned the city of Atlas to fall as a result of all that...

Realistically, she should have been weighed down with guilt, and exhaustion, and resentment, and probably a lot of other things. But what Weiss felt now was something like... relieved pride. Despite all odds, they’d saved Penny. They’d brought Ironwood to heel. They’d even killed Salem--temporarily, she was coming back, but still an accomplishment. And, as she strode down the golden path from the portal and watched people slowly trickle in from the other bright ovals in this... mysterious void, she knew that the citizens of Mantle and of Atlas would escape the calamity that had been wrought.

“Hope Vacuo has enough space for all these people,” Ruby murmured as she helped Penny along on her new feet.

Yang smirked. "If there’s one thing Vacuo has plenty of, it’s space. I’m more worried about dumping everyone on them without warning.”

“That is a tomorrow problem,” Weiss declared.

“Wow.” Blake gave her a wry grin. “I never thought I’d see the day where you, of all people, would procrastinate.”

Weiss whirled, pointing the staff of creation at Blake’s face. “Where was all this sass back at Beacon?”

“Locked behind the trauma of escaping an abusive relationship,” Blake replied casually.

“...Touché.” Weiss shrugged, stepping onto the main platform and waving at the milling crowd. “Excuse me! Can anybody tell me where the Happy Huntresses are? We need to touch base.”

“They’re over there!” a woman reported, pointing at the largest portal. “They’re helping organize everyone going through--getting families back together and all that.” She shook her head. “This is actually happening...”

Yang put a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. World’s a crazy place. Just... focus on what you need to do now, okay?”

“Okay.” The woman nodded. “I’m going to... look for my husband.”

With a final pat, Yang broke away and the five teenagers maneuvered through the press of people. It didn’t take them too long to approach the three women near the final road, since the crowd was milling that way anyway, and the tall green-haired woman spotted them first. “Hey May, your interns are here!”

“Thanks Joanna!” The blue-haired woman waved the five of them over with a grin. “There’s the heroes of the hour!”

“Interns?” Yang put a hand on her hip. “Are we getting paid for this?”

“Sorry, no pay till you’re officially hired, but I’ll make sure you get an amazing benefits package.” May Marigold had a smile on her face despite her sardonic tone. “How are you kids feeling?”

“Well, Penny’s still getting used to her new body,” Weiss admitted.

“Toes are weird,” Penny reported in a distant tone.

Ruby wrapped her arm tighter around her shoulders. “That they are, Penny,” she agreed fondly.

“Yang and Blake are still insufferably dense,” Weiss continued.

“Okay, that’s unfair!” Yang insisted. “I know I’m dense, but Blake--”

“Yang, you’re not dense!” Blake protested. “You’re one of the smartest people I know!”

May whistled. “Yeowch, I see what you mean. How about you, princess?”

“Honestly, I’m feeling unusually giddy. Not just for this whole situation, but for me personally.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re awake for fifty hours straight,” Joanna admitted. “You’re going to zonk out as soon as you hit a bed.”

“I expect as much.”

May shook her head. “Well, you kids have exceeded all expectations,” she assured them with pride.

“Not an uncommon occurrence for us,” Weiss replied.

“Smug little brats. So...” she nodded at the golden rod in her hand. “That it?”

“Indeed it is. The Staff of Creation, in compact form.” Weiss spun the object in her hand. “And it’s surprisingly less heavy this way. Chalk it up to magic, I guess.”

“Right.” May turned to the side. “Hey, Fiona! Got a sec?”

“One moment!” came the reply from a short woman. "You said you can’t find your dad?”

The child in front of her nodded hesitantly. “They tooks him up to Atlas when they was taking people up,” he said.

“Well a lot of those other portals come from Atlas,” the woman replied. “So it’s probably only going to be a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay...”

“My uncle here can look after you until then.”

The child looked up at the old man with badger paws, who gave him a gentle smile. “Okay,” he said, carefully settling himself in front of the man.

Fiona smiled, turning around and joining the rest of the group. “Okay, what’s--Kids!” She skipped over gleefully. “You did it--you have no idea how grateful everyone is!”

“Aha, well, it... it was nothing,” Ruby replied awkwardly. “We just did the best with what we had--”

Joanna clapped a hand on her shoulder. “You had nothing but each other and were up against two whole armies,” she pointed out bluntly. “One had magic and Grimm, the other was Atlas. And you somehow saved everyone. Accept the damn praise already.”

Ruby opened her mouth to protest, gave a look at Penny, and reluctantly let out a small laugh. “I... guess you have a point...”

May cleared her throat. “Anyway. We have an ancient magical artifact that needs to stay out of the wrong hands.” She tilted her head toward the Staff of Creation. “Fiona, if you would?”

“Oh! Right, right.” Fiona accepted the golden rod from Weiss, absorbing it with her semblance.

“Well,” Weiss said. “Glad that’s settled--”

“Whoa.”

Something about the word made the hairs on Weiss’s neck raise.

“What... wow.” Fiona seemed to sway a little, raising her arms. “This is incredible. I have tiny hands.”

“...Fi?” May gave her a concerned look. “You doing okay there?”

Fiona looked down. She raise a leg with an experimental expression, waving it around, before putting it back down. “Huh. I’ve never felt so attached to the ground before...”

“That’s... gravity,” Joanna said blankly. “It’s called gravity.”

“Huh. Really?”

Weiss frowned. “Fiona?” When the woman didn’t respond, she shared an awkward look with May. “Um.”

Blake sighed, kneeling down in front of the short woman. “Fiona, can you focus?”

The woman looked at her strangely. “...who’s Fiona?”

“Oooooooookay yeah, this--this is weird,” May said quickly. “Maybe we shouldn’t have given her the staff--”

“The staff?” Fiona looked up her. “Wait, do you mean my staff?”

“Your... Ambrosus?” Yang stared in utter disbelief. “Is that you?!”

“Well, of course!” Fiona put her hands on her hips. “Who else would I be?”

May looked around at the collection of sighs and groans team RWBY produced. “Okay, somebody want to clue me in to what the hell is going on?”

Weiss sighed. “Ambrosus is the spirit in the staff,” she explained wearily. “So I guess when Fiona used her semblance to absorb the staff, he came along with it and...” She waved a hand at the woman.

“Wait.” Fiona, possibly, held up a hand. “Absorb the staff?”

“Fiona’s semblance lets her store things,” Joanna explained. “We thought she’d keep it safe... we’ve never tried it with anything magical before.”

May took a deep, controlled breath. “Alright. Okay. So... can we fix this? Get Fiona back?”

Blake shrugged as she stood back up. “I think if we get the staff out of her

“Alright. Hey, Fi--Ambrosus.” May crossed her arms. “Can you get out of there?”

“Hmmm.” Ambrosus snapped Fiona’s fingers--or at least tried to. It took three attempts to make a successful snap. “Huh. Okay, there might be a problem, and that problem is I don’t have my powers in this body.”

“You don’t need to create the staff,” Penny pointed out. “You need to remove it from Fiona.”

“You did hear me just say I don’t have my powers, right?”

“Then use Fiona’s semblance.”

“...Doy!” Ambrosus brought Fiona’s hand to her head in a facepalm. “Ow! Huh.” The motion was repeated. “Is this what pain feels like?”

Penny nodded--and then frowned. “Hmm.” She brought her own hand to her head. “Ouch! Oh. Pain does feel different in this body.”

“Maybe we can test that out later in a more controlled environment,” Ruby said quickly, grabbing Penny’s wrist.

“Yeah,” May agreed, frowning as Ambrosus experimentally pinched Fiona’s skin. “Hey!”

“Hmm?”

“Out!”

“Right.” Fiona’s ear’s drooped... and then Ambrosus blinked. “Oh! Motile ears! Fancy!”

Blake sighed as the ears went up and down. “Focus...”

“Right, yes.” Ambrosus held out Fiona’s arms, staring at her hands in concentration. “Semblance. Semblance. Seeeem-blance. Hmmmmnnnnn. Aura, personal manifestation. Semblance. Okay. Any moment now. Definitely going to happen okay I don’t know what I’m doing wrong but nothing’s happening.”

May clutched at her hair. “What kind of ancient spirit are you?!”

“This is new for me too, alright?”

“Maybe you can’t use Fiona’s semblance because you aren’t Fiona,” Joanna suggested.

“That--huh.” Ambrosus nodded. “You know what, that just might be it.”

“Well... switch over and let her have control,” Yang offered. “Like Oz does, you know?”

“Huh. Okay, okay.” Fiona’s eyes shut, and Ambrosus took a deep breath. “Just have to focus inward. Hmmm. No, those seem to be automatic functions... no, that’s... oh, that’s an interesting memory... oh, hmm, closer... Oh!  There she is and--oh.”

“Oh?” May said. “What’s oh?”

“Oh is ‘she’s been cognizant this whole time,” Ambrosus replied awkwardly.

Weiss pinched her brow. “Of course. Just... give her control, already.”

“Right, right, yes. I am so sorry for the trouble, miss, I’ll just--”

One moment Fiona was casually rolling a hand as Ambrosus talked. The next she was stock still, standing in a position far to casual for her suddenly blank expression.

“...Fi?” May lowered her hands. “You, uh--?”

With perhaps a bit too much speed, the staff of creation reformed in Fiona’s hand. She shoved it into May’s grasp, taking a few deep breaths. “Oooookay, that was weird.” Her voice was shaky, but not quite panicking. “Freaky and weird and please never ask me to do anything like that again.”

“I am so sorry,” Ruby said quickly. “I--I swear we didn’t know--”

“I know you didn’t, you’re good kids, I’m just going to... cling to Joanna for a bit.”

May sighed as she watched Fiona wrap her arms around Joanna’s waist. “Yeah, that... yeah,” she said, clearly not able to find the words to express her frustration.

“You said it,” Yang replied.

Blake sighed. “Well... at least that’s one unexpected complication dealt with. I hope nothing worse happens.”

"Citizens of Mantle!

Everyone turned to see Cinder Fall flamboyantly flinging off a black cape into the void.

“Bring me the Winter Maiden,” she demanded. “Or face the infinite depths!”

Weiss groaned. “Of course.” She pulled out Myrtenaster. “Let’s just get this over with...”

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 7

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Usual warnings apply. Thank you for all your comments and interactions -- you are all wonderful.

Aelin is going to murder her family. Okay, not actually. But, for some reason, they’ve decided they haven’t been spending enough time together, and that this week is going to be completely taken up by family activities. Which, usually Aelin would love. However, the only activity she wants to partake in is making out with Rowan Whitethorn’s face, and her family is making that physically impossible.

She opens her messenger and reads through her meager back and forth with him, explaining her lack of presence in the park. Rowan’s not a big texter, she learned. He replies in clipped answers. It’s impossible to read him. She messaged him the day after Friending him, not wanting to look too desperate, but also, she can’t stop thinking about the way her whole body pulsed as he’d leaned toward her in the brewery back hallway.

She is fairly certain she’s going to combust when she actually gets to touch him. Their chemistry is undeniable. Like two pieces of a magnet, unable to stay away from each other. She can’t believe he thinks she was dating Dorian, when she thought she’d made it so incredibly obvious she wanted to jump Rowan. And now that it’s a possibility… Her heart pounds with frustration at her family’s unintentional cockblocking.

Aelin hears Gavin and Evie squealing in the foyer, despite the early hour, which means Aedion and co. have arrived for the day. Aelin decides to descend from her room, waiting to hear what family activity awaits today. Hopefully it’s more active than yesterday’s beach day where she had nothing but free time to fantasize about all the things she wanted to do with Rowan on a beach and stress about how long he takes to reply to her messages. She did get a great base tan, though.

“Ah, look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” Rhoe jokes. “Just in time to leave for the park.”

Aelin lights up. “We’re going to the park today?” She racks her brain. “But it’s not Saturday?”

Aedion ruffles her hair, earning a frown from Aelin. “How could you forget what today is, kiddo?”

“Because time has no meaning during the summer? And don’t call me kiddo, old man,” Aelin says cheekily. Aedion pokes her side, and she swats his finger away. “No, seriously, what is today?”

“It’s the Ashryver Alzheimers Foundation Fair,” Rhoe says, his tone serious. “So, let’s all be very nice to your mother today. She’s already at the park setting up.”

Aelin frowns in apology. She can’t believe she lost track of the time so much so that it’s already her mother’s charity event. Evalin spearheads the foundation. It’s her life’s passion. She created it after her own mother passed away from Alzheimers. It’s the one day of summer the park turns into more of a County Fair, filled with local food booths, a petting zoo, a fashion show, a silent auction, animal adoptions, and a big band for dancing in one of the eating tents. All the proceeds go to the foundation. Her mother works relentlessly all year long to put together the event, and it’s always incredibly fun.

Aelin takes out her phone and opens her messages again as Rhoe tells them to be ready to leave in ten minutes. She grins when she sees a message from Rowan waiting for her.

So, am I ever going to see you again, or…

Aelin replies too quickly. YES! We’re actually going to the park today.

Rowan messages back immediately. Out of excuses to avoid me?

Another message arrives in rapid succession. Just kidding. I know it’s a big ~Ashryver~ day here. Lorcan is just about to give us our morning assignments. Who came up with these activities? They’re insane.

Aelin smirks, wondering where he’ll be assigned. It’s the most Rowan has ever texted back.

It’s for charity! And you’ll love it. I’ll see you soon :)

I’ll believe it when I see it.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Aedion hovers over Aelin’s shoulder, and Aelin clutches her phone against her chest as she whips her head around to glare at her brother.

“No one.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Aedion frowns. “It’s not Chaol again, is it?”

Aelin grumbles. “Oh my god, why does everyone always think that?”

Aedion laughs. “I don’t know, maybe because he’s been the only guy you’ve dated for the entirety of your life? Even though you keep breaking up for good reason?”

Aelin flicks him off. “It’s not Chaol. He has a new girlfriend. Thank you very much.”

“So spill.”

Aelin shakes her head.

“Nox? Cain? Archer? Mikhail?”

Aedion lists the names of Dorian’s friends, other board members’ sons, and surrounding neighbors. Of course those are the only people he would consider. Someone from the park wouldn’t even cross his mind. Mostly because her family would not approve in the slightest.

“Come on, kids, let’s go,” Rhoe calls, rushing past the siblings in the foyer and saving Aelin. She exhales quickly as they pile into the car. Since Evalin will have so much to transport at the end of the day, they forgo walking.

The park is just opening when they arrive, and they spot Evalin immediately. She works to set up signs and balloons at the entrance. Rhoe goes to stand dutifully beside her, holding her purse and other accoutrements. The woman is a whirlwind, but a productive one. The park has been transformed before Aelin’s very eyes. Aelin breathes in deeply. She can already smell the scent of roasting meats and fried dough.

“Need any help, mom?” Aelin asks, and Aelin’s never been so grateful as when Evalin shrugs her off and tells her to go find her friends.

Aelin is halfway booking it to attempt to find Rowan when Gavin and Evie run up to her, each grabbing a hand and pulling her toward the animal adoption booths. “Let’s go look at the animals, Auntie Ae!” Evie announces sweetly, and Aelin sighs. She guesses she’ll have to look for Rowan later in the day.

Aelin takes her niece and nephew through the petting zoo, giving funny voices to all the farm animals, which delights them. She gives the cow a particularly high voice, which sends Gavin into a fit of giggles. Next to the petting zoo is a long row of adoption booths, and though Aelin knows she shouldn’t, she goes and looks at the puppies.

“Oh my god,” she exclaims, looking at the little of small golden puppies in the pen. The attendant smiles.

“I know. They’re precious, right?” Aelin nods, her hands itching to reach out and pet them.

“Do you want to come meet them?” the attendant asks, and Aelin nearly jumps into the pen with excitement. She sits down, Gavin and Evie with her, and within seconds, they’re swarmed by little balls of yipping fur, trying to climb over them and attack them with kisses.

Aelin hugs a puppy tight to her chest, letting it lick her face. She’s so happy she could almost cry.

“Not who I thought I’d run into you kissing today,” Dorian’s voice calls from the other side of the pen. Aelin flashes him a warning glare, but Dorian just laughs. “You look like you’re in heaven, Ace.”

“I love her,” Aelin says, nuzzling the puppy in her arms.

“Ah, I was wondering where my children ran off to. We’re not getting a puppy,” Aedion says, telling his kids to get out of the pen. “You too, Aelin,” he says with a soft chuckle.

Aelin reluctantly puts the puppy back on the ground, and it starts crying immediately. “She loves me too!” Aelin’s heart tugs. “I’m sorry, puppy. I hope you find a good home,” Aelin says as she climbs out of the pen.

“We’ll be here until closing,” the attendant says with a knowing smile.

“Come on,” Dorian says. “The pig race starts in ten minutes.”

Aelin looks around, trying to spot that bright head of silver-blonde hair, but it’s nowhere to be found. Resigned, Aelin follows her family to the races.

The rest of the afternoon flies by, filled with delicious food and ridiculous activities. But with each hour that passes, Aelin becomes more and more anxious to see Rowan. By the end of the day, Aelin still hasn’t seen him anywhere. She told Dorian to keep an eye out for him, too, but they must be on opposite schedules because wherever Aelin’s family goes, Rowan is not.

“Aw, don’t frown,” Dorian coos, pushing her cheeks up into a smile. “Should I go win you a stuffed animal? Will that make you feel better?”

Aelin checks her phone. No messages from Rowan. She sighs and looks at her best friend. “Yeah, win me a giant stuffed animal, please.”

Dorian rolls his eyes. “Let’s not be greedy, okay?”

Aelin laughs as they head over to the long row of games. Dorian attempts a bottle toss and fails miserably, missing each time.

“They’re glued down!” he insists, and Aelin laughs loudly.

“Sure, tell yourself that.”

“Whatever, I want to try again,” Dorian insists, but Aelin convinces him to go down the row of games, trying a new one each time. Dorian successfully fails at each and every one, and by the last one, he’s practically fuming. “They’re rigged!”

Aelin tries her hand at the bean bag toss and wins her first try. She turns to Dorian with a wide smile. “Sucker.” She hands him the small teddy bear awarded to her.

“Is this a mirage?” a low voice rumbles from behind. Rowan’s hand brushes against the small of her back, making Aelin shiver. “Or do I actually see Aelin Ashryver in front of me?”

“I’m real!” Aelin insists, spinning around quickly to see Rowan’s frowning face. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Rowan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “Really not looking forward to my final gig of the day.” He nods his head in the other direction. “I didn’t even think kissing booths were real outside movies, but apparently they are.”

Aelin is stunned silent at the words kissing booth, so much so that she doesn’t even clock Rowan saying he’ll see her later and heading to the booth. She watches as he relieves Fenrys of his duty and takes his seat behind the heart shaped awning. Aelin’s never participated in the kissing booth before, deeming it silly to pay $10 for a staff member to kiss her cheek, but the staff member giving out kisses has never been Rowan Whitethorn before.

Frantic, Aelin opens her wallet and groans. A single dollar bill sits inside. She looks up at an amused Dorian.

“Need a loan, Ace?”

“Don’t be mean,” Aelin begs. Dorian pulls out his wallet. He rummages through and pulls out a crisp hundred dollar bill. Aelin raises her eyebrows.

“It’s all I have.”

“I’ll pay you back,” she says, and Dorian’s laugh trails after her as she makes her way to the kissing booth line quickly. She can’t believe how much it’s filled up in the mere minutes since Rowan took over.

She hears the girls in front of her giggling about how cute he is, and Aelin can’t say she disagrees. She also can’t believe she’s actually doing this, but she can’t not.

When she arrives at the head of the line, Rowan looks remarkably surprised. He sits up straighter in his seat and clears his throat, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He looks up at her with his wide green eyes, and it takes all of Aelin’s self-restraint not to lean in and kiss that blush right off his face.

“Hey,” he begins, startled. “I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t?” she interrupts, a glimmer of mirth in her eyes.

He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I may have really thought you were avoiding me. Which would be totally understandable. I definitely made things weird.”

Aelin laughs. “I’ve been texting with you all week!”

“I know,” Rowan chuckles. “I just… I didn’t want to assume anything anymore.”

“I don’t think I can be any clearer than this,” Aelin says and slides over Dorian’s money.

Rowan looks up at her through his flutter of blonde eyelashes. “Aelin, this is a hundred dollar bill.” He pauses. “It only costs ten.”

“It’s for charity,” she says, hoping her confidence outweighs the pile of nerves swirling in her stomach.

Though most girls had been turning their heads to the side, giving Rowan their cheek to kiss, Aelin leans straight forward, her face head on with his. She watches his internal debate rage, his eyes flickering from her eyes and down to her lips and back up again. Aelin leans forward a smidge further, and his eyes darken. Aelin’s stomach flips, waiting for him to close the distance. She inhales and exhales uneasily, and finally, Rowan leans in and slowly presses his lips against hers. It’s soft and perfect and ends far too soon.

Aelin’s eyes flutter open. She hadn’t even realized she’d closed them. Rowan breathes heavily as he pulls away, and Aelin is satisfied to see that his blush has bloomed further on his cheeks. With how flushed she feels, she’s sure she looks similarly.

“What time does your shift end?” Aelin asks, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

Rowan looks at his watch. “Forty minutes. Why?” he asks.

Aelin leans forward, hoping her voice sounds steadier than her legs feel as she whispers, “I’m going to be waiting under the pier. And I’d like to collect on the rest of my ninety dollars.”

Rowan brings his hand to his face to cover his wide smile and nods. Electricity crackles over Aelin’s skin as she walks away, and without even looking she knows it’s because he’s watching her.

She finds her family quickly and congratulates her mom on a successful day before letting them know that she feels like walking home alone. They’re all so tired and distracted from starting clean up that Aelin’s suspicious behavior barely even registers with them. Except for Aedion who raises an eyebrow at his sister, but she waves him off, saying she just feels like some quiet time.

Aelin climbs down onto the beach and heads for her spot under the pier. The sun fades over the horizon, giving way to a beautiful bright moon. The ocean seems to glitter under it, and the sound of breaking waves soothes her as she waits. She slips off her sandals and sinks her toes into the cool sand and leans against one of the thick wooden posts of the pier’s structure. She rolls her shoulders backwards and tries to loosen up and relax, but the anticipation is killing her.

It feels like she’s waited forever when she finally hears the sound of soft footfalls approaching on the sand. She turns nervously. She wasn’t actually sure he’d show up. But there, in all his silver-headed glory, stalking towards her is Rowan.

She’s about to greet him, but she doesn’t get a chance, because before she says a word, his mouth crashes to hers. Gone is the tender, sweet kiss they’d shared an hour ago. This one is desperate, a culmination of weeks of misunderstandings and tension and heated glares. Aelin opens her mouth against his, letting him in, letting him take whatever he wants of her. Her skin feels like it’s on fire where his hands roam across the fabric of her shirt and down to her ass. Aelin groans against Rowan’s mouth and wraps her arms around his neck, not wanting any space between them.

Rowan’s strong arms reach down and lift her legs, wrapping them around her waist, and Aelin can feel him hard against her. She pulls him even closer. Now it’s Rowan’s turn to groan. It’s music to Aelin’s ears. She rocks against him again – anything to elicit that noise from his mouth again.

Rowan backs them into the wooden post and braces himself with one arm. Aelin doesn’t have time to think about how impressively strong that must make him. To hold her up with one arm and his hips, pinned against her. The wooden pole of the pier scrapes against Aelin’s back, and she hopes her family is asleep by the time she gets home otherwise they’ll have some serious questions. But Aelin’s already thrown caution to the wind. She’s burning, completely electrified by Rowan’s touch. She lets her head fall back as his open mouth trails down her bare neck.

“If you leave a mark I’ll kill you,” she manages to croak out between pants. And Rowan chuckles against her neck but doesn’t stop his affections. “I’m serious,” she breathes out. “It’s summer, and I’m not wearing a scarf.”

Rowan lets his teeth drag across her neck, gently scraping the skin, and Aelin fully shudders in his arms.

He finally pulls his face away, but doesn’t let Aelin slide out of his arms, still keeping her pinned to the wide pole.

“Hi.” He smiles, his dark eyes staring into hers. The dark pine green glows with want.

“Hi,” she says in return.

He pushes her hair, which has fallen out of her ponytail, away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. Rowan smiles wider and kisses Aelin softly again. His lips lingering on hers until they’re practically breathing into each other’s mouths.

“I told you I wasn’t avoiding you,” she mumbles quietly into the space between their lips.

“I’ll never doubt you again.” He looks at her seriously. His eyes plead with silent apology and future promises, and they slice through Aelin, making her feel something that she’s not sure she’s ever felt before.

“I want to do this with you all the time,” she says as she unhooks her legs and finally slides to stand on the ground.

Rowan chuckles, and she can feel his chest vibrating against hers. “I think we can arrange that.”

She looks up at him, and he looks right back, his gaze unwavering, and Aelin knows in this very moment that she’s in trouble.

Oh boy.

As they resume their kissing, this time slow and languid and toe-curling, Aelin can’t help but think she’s not sure she’s ready for a Rowan Whitethorn.  

~*~*~*~*~

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters – ask me HERE

tag list:

@thewayshedreamed​

@b00kworm​

@alifletcher2012​

@aknymph​

@the-third-me​

@mymultiversee​

@superspiritfestival​

@empress-ofbloodshed​

@http-itsrebecca​

@queen-of-glass​

@but-she-was-aelin-galathynius​

@westofmoon​

@rowaelinforeverworld​

@iliketoasterstrudels​

@bamchickawowow​

@hizqueen4life​

@faerie-queen-fireheart​

@giorgia-the-trashpanda​

@acourtofmoonlight​

@m-like-magic1​

@rolltide7​

@wordsafterhours​

@amren-courtofdreams​

@alserath​

@tswaney17​

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@joyceortiz13​

@itsme-malin​

@aesthetics-11​

@keshavomit​

@yingyingbearbear

@alxanxah​

@but-she-was-aelin-galathynius​

@minaidss​

@meowsekai​

@deepdarktrashhole​

@samotita​

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​

@ehazzard7​

@cursebreaker29​

@flourishandblottsx​

[harryspet]

his to keep | j.jk

[WARNINGS] dark jungkook x named oc, toxic/abusive relationship, pregnancy, kidnapping, panic attack, super angsty, jungkook being a piece of crap, basically yandere jungkook

A/N: I just wrote this because I was feeling angsty. I also like to imagine Jungkook as if he wasn’t an adorable human lol. If you are triggered by the things about PLEASE DO NOT READ. Most of my fics are smutty but this one isn’t as much and I still like it. I might be able to do a part two with this one if people like it. 

In which she finds out she’s pregnant and decides it’s time to escape her toxic relationship but Jungkook decides he’ll do everything to keep his family together. 

Please like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3k

Everyone wished they were her. Even if the world didn’t even know she existed, people all around the world love to have what she had with Jungkook. Not the love they say they have for all their fans but passionate and romantic love. Obsessive love. 

Eun-sun had met Jungkook because of a chance encounter. She worked at the counter of the tattoo shop he randomly stopped by one day. He was with a small group of friends and, dressed down, she didn’t immediately recognize him. It wasn’t until one of his friends had said his name that she realized one of the most famous men in the world was standing in the same room as her. 

She played it cool, of course, or at least she tried to. Her heart pounded as she went to retrieve the artist that they had requested. 

He seemed to single her out though and he only looked at her as his friends flipped through a book of designs. He leaned against the counter and asked her coolly, “You don’t have any tattoos?” It was the summer and her arms were completely bare so he could tell. 

She shook her head, her eyes a bit wide, “Not your thing?” He continued and, for a moment. Eunsun thought he was actually interested in her. 

“The permanence … it kind of scares me,” She admitted, trying not to sound nervous, “I suppose that’s not what you want to hear from a person who works at a place like this.”

Jungkook smiled at that and, like the whole world, she was entranced by it. 

She worked here in order to help out her family who were struggling to make it in the city. They owned a small convenience store where she usually worked later at night. 

“No, you make a good point. There has to be some voice of reason here to keep people from getting stupid tattoos,” Eunsun blushed and one of Jungkook’s friends called for him. 

He smiled at me one more time before walking back over to his friends. 

Eunsun didn’t know it but, in that short moment, Jungkook had decided she was worth it. Worth letting her enter his crazy world. 

She initially said no and that it was a crazy idea for her to come with him around the world. She insisted she’d only be a burden to him and that she had responsibilities back in Korea that she couldn’t leave. He only insisted, deciding to make a deal with her, he’d help out with finances if she agreed to give him company on the road. 

She explained that she wasn’t a prostitute and he only laughed, “Of course you aren’t, just trust me, please.”

And she agreed because he was so damn convincing but she insisted he not give her more than the money she was already earning. Jungkook never told her that he had given her parents way more than that. 

Although he didn’t really present himself to the world as powerful, Jungkook was practically a prince. Every moment of his day was planned and his every wish was granted. It had become normal to him at that point but she noticed the craziness of it all. 

Eun-sun had never been on a plane before but now she was traveling everywhere on a private one. She had to wear a mask constantly and soon learned she wasn’t allowed to walk with Jungkook in public. He introduced her to one of his personal assistants and she was to simply act like she was a part of their entourage. All though she became friends with his assistant, she never really felt like she belonged in his world. 

It wasn’t like he could claim her publicly and she wasn’t his girlfriend anyways. 

When Jungkook wasn’t working, he was with her. They talked so much that some of the makeup artists grew frustrated with her because Jungkook could never sit still anymore. 

She met all the members of the famous boy group and it amazed her how naturally they tried to include her in their family. Some of the boys had their own partners and some didn’t seem like they dated at all. 

Things were exciting constantly and Eun-sun loved the workings of his complicated world but there was a moment where things shifted. 

A panic attack. 

She had never seen someone have one and, honestly, she wasn’t sure what to do when she entered his room one night and found him on the floor trembling. His hand clutched his heart and for a moment she thought he was having a heart attack. She ran to him kneeling beside him, “Jungkook-” He was breathing so hard, hyperventilating. 

“Jungkook, please tell me what’s wrong,” She whispered, her voice shaky. 

He was crying, choking on his own sobs as he started to roughly grab at his hair. She grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his face, “Jungkook, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” She spoke calmly, trying to get him to look in her eyes. She was holding back her own tears after seeing him like this, “Breath, breathe.”

He was still crying but his eyes finally met hers, and he started to breathe. It seemed he would lose his progress every now and then as he remembered whatever was freaking him out. As he began breathing again she said, “You’re doing such a good job. You’re so strong. Just breathe, please. Tell me what you need.”

He looked over to a black bag across the room and she understood. She crossed the room and began to look through the bag. She found a prescription bottle and began reading until she realized it was anti-anxiety medicine. 

She emptied the correct amount onto her hand and found a bottle of water in the mini-fridge. She hurried back to him and got him to put the pills into his mouth. She held the water bottle as he began to sip from it. 

He was still shaking and sweating all over but she held him as he started to calm down, “You’re okay, Jungkook. I know it’s scary but it’s just a feeling. You’re doing such a good job,” They sat on the floor in front of his bed and he rested his head on her lap as he tried to control his breathing. 

She ran her fingers through his hair and he finally got some well-deserved sleep. 

When the doctor came in the morning, he refused to let Eun-sun leave despite the advice of his managers. She was already there for him and he didn’t want to hide this from her. The constant pressure of having to do his best to impress his fans had caused the panic attack. Eun-sun was the one who convinced him to sit out for the next two tour dates. 

She slept in his room from that day on and their bond only grew from there. 

+

Eunsun liked baking, she was actually great at it. Jin had even said that he wanted to open a bakery with her one day. Knowing Jin, that could be a very real thing to happen. She enjoyed when they stayed in houses and not hotels because she could utilize the kitchens. 

She had perfected her Japanese mochi ice cream and she was ready to serve it to the boys for their dinner. Most of them were out on the terrace, having finished their dinners, and were sitting around the fire. She was delicately placing the desserts on a plate when she felt someone brush behind her. 

She was about to lean back into the person until she realized it was Minho, their personal trainer, and she immediately blushed and bowed her head in apology, “I’m sorry, I thought you were Jungkook,” she laughed nervously. 

The muscular man only smirked, leaning against the counter with crossed arms, “You’re very smitten with each other, aren’t you?”

“Uhm,” She opened her mouth, trying to find something intelligent to say, “You could say that.” She felt his eyes burning into her and she moved quicker, trying to get the food onto the platter. 

“Wait, did you check with the nutritionist about those? The boys are on strict diets.”

She turned around to face him, her mouth in the form of an ‘o’. “Oh, I didn’t mean to interfere. It’s fine, I can just-”

“I’m kidding,” His lips pulled into a smile, “They eat whatever they want most of the time.”

It seemed he expected her to laugh so that’s what she did, trying not to create an awkward silence. She lifted the platter and said, “Would you like to try one?” He nodded, plucking one off. 

“Eun-sun,” She turned to see Jungkook staring at them from the screen door that led outside. She had never seen that look before, disgust, and it not was not only directed at Minho but at her, “Everyone’s waiting.”

“Sorry,” She apologized though she wasn’t sure what she had done wrong. She didn’t give Minho another glance as she walked towards Jungkook, “I didn’t know everyone was waiting.” 

Jungkook closed the door behind them, that dark look in his eyes. That night, as she shared her treats with all the boys, Jungkook didn’t say a word. She only noticed how his arm was always snaked around her, like he had to be touching her or she might flow away somehow.

He began drinking too, something that often helped with his anxiety. She noticed that he usually just melted into his own world when he was drunk and that’s what happened that night. 

They stayed up talking and laughing until the fire burnt out and they all realized they had a plane to catch in the morning. Eunsun tried to help Jungkook up to his room but he responded harshly to her, “I can do it, I’m not drunk.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she tried not to seem hurt. She watched him stumble up the rest of the steps, “Jungkook, I’m gonna get you some water,” He mumbled some curse word and she turned away from him. 

She retrieved a glass for him and returned upstairs to their room. She sat the glass down on his nightstand and turned out the light. Jungkook had already plopped onto the bed tiredly. She went into the bathroom and prepared for bed, putting on a pair of pajamas. He was still wearing his jeans when she walked out of the bathroom, “Don’t you want to change your pants?” She asked as she slipped in the bed. 

He groaned as if she had woken him up, and then he began to undo his belt. She was silent, unsure of what to do because he had never undressed in front of her. She was sure he didn’t care because he was drunk and simply looked away, pulling the comforter over her.

Minutes later, the bed dipped beside her and she felt his body warmth against her. He pressed his front into her back, wrapping his arms around her. He still smelt of soju and it was starting to make her feel nauseous, “Jungkook, go take a shower if you’re going to do that.”

He ignored her and that’s when she felt the soft kisses on her shoulder blade. She flinched, the feeling so foreign, and pretty much nailed him in the nose in the process, “Aigoo,” he cursed, laying back. 

Eun-sun turned quickly, hoping it wasn’t bleeding, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-” She didn’t have time to worry anymore because he leaned up to kiss her. And she kissed him back. 

He craved more, his fingers beginning to lift the fabric of her nightshirt, “Jungkook . . . you’re drunk and I’ve never even-”

He shushed her, “Let’s make each other feel good, okay? I need that and you’re the only thing that makes me feel happy these days.”

He pressed his lips to hers and, that night, she gave herself to him. 

+

Despite the special night they had, Jungkook was hungover in the morning. They all sat at the breakfast table but Jungkook had his head down. Eunsun tried to encourage him to eat something greasy but he ignored her. 

She was picking at her plate, talking to the boys, when she noticed someone was missing, “Where’s Minho?”

They seemed to go silent at that and all of them looked at Jungkook and then back at me, “I think he’s going home for the rest of the tour,” Namjoon spoke up though he seemed unsure of his words. 

Jungkook lifted his head, grabbing his water, before saying to no one, “I fired him.”

Eunsun stared at him with wide eyes, “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sipped his water, leaning on the table, “I mean that I hope he never works another day in his life.” And the silence in the room was deadly. 

Eunsun gave him an incredulous look but Jungkook didn’t even meet her eyes, “This is because of yesterday?”

“I saw the way he looked at you,” Jungkook sneered, “He should’ve known better, fucking creep.”

“No,” Jungkook snapped his head toward her and she shifted uncomfortably, “Y-You should no better. All he did was talk to me and you’re acting like a child who had his favorite toy stolen.” Eunsun stood suddenly, not wanting to argue anymore in front of everyone. 

She walked away from the dining room, “Eunsun, come back here!” She didn’t and it wasn’t long before she heard glass shattering against the wall. 

+

“Eunsun, please open the door. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for getting so angry.”

“You don’t understand, Eunsun, it’s because I love you. And I’m just stressed from the tour.”

“Please, can we just be alone together and talk?”

“I know it was wrong what I did. You have to forgive me. You have to let me make it up to you . . . I don’t think I’ll make it through this without you”

+

She stayed for happy moments. For getting to watch him perform in front of thousands of people. For seeing him laugh so much in all his American interviews. For the nights spent watching movies. For the photos taken while sightseeing. For the sex when he was sober. For being known as Jungkook’s girl to everyone on the team. 

But it only lasted two months. 

Because of the night he got into a physical altercation with a staff member who had made a snide remark about Eunsun being a whore. The man’s face was unrecognizable after Jungkook released all his anger into him. He defended her but he became a monster when he did. 

He had to be taken to the hospital because of how bad he bruised his knuckles. Eunsun didn’t go with him and he almost started another fight trying to get to her. Luckily, his members convinced him to go without her. She returned to the hotel with a test given to her by one of the makeup artists. 

She took three and each one had those two double lines. 

By the time Jungkook got back to the hotel, she was on a plane back to South Korea. And she and her family had plans to disappear as soon as she landed. 

+

“You always do this. You’re overreacting. Answer your phone. I love you.”

“This isn’t funny. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I love you.”

“I’m just trying to protect you, Eunsun. It’s because I love you.”

+  

She didn’t want him, at first. But as her stomach grew rounder and she felt his kick, she fell in love. Even after she first saw him in the hospital and realized how much he looked like Jungkook. 

Her Junghoon.

The small town they moved to had a bakery and Eunsun made her living in the day by making deliveries. She hoped one day they’d consider giving her a spot in the kitchen, even if it was for washing dishes. Her mother stayed home to watch Junghoon and her father worked most nights. 

She returned home one night with a cake to celebrate Junghoon already being five months old, but, as soon as she walked through the door, the cake fell right to the floor. Her mother was standing in the kitchen weeping, one of his bodyguards’ keeping on her, and Jungkook was sitting in the small living room. Junghoon was in his hands being rocked. 

The baby was silent as if he knew who Jungkook was. 

Eunsun stepped into the dim light of the living room and Jungkook looked up at her, “He’s beautiful. He looks just like his Mommy,” Two of his bodyguards were in the small room too. They seemed to have dark intentions just like their boss. 

“Let me hold him,” Eunsun spoke and then a gun cocked. She eyed the bodyguard across the room and there was a gun in his hand. Jungkook raised a hand to the man as if to say calm down. “Jungkook, let me hold him.”

Her lips were trembling now. 

“I was going to let you go. I was. And then I found out you took a pregnancy test the day you left,” She was so close. So close. “I didn’t know until a month ago. You robbed me of knowing I had a son. I didn’t get to name my own sun. Didn’t get to see him take his first breath. And you were okay with that.”

His voice was laced with venom but he didn’t yell, only because his son was in his arms, “Why would I want him raised by a monster?” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“That’s what you think of me?” She nodded and tears began to swell around his eyes, “All I ever did was love you, Eunsun, and I will be in his life. We’re all going to be a family.”

Her heart stopped, “It’s too late for that.”

“If you want your parents alive then you’ll come with me. And you won’t fight it.”

“You sick fuck-”

“You stole Junghoon away from me, it’s only fair,” Jungkook moved closer to her. They were both crying but Jungkook’s were happy tears, “I’m sorry, Eunsun. We start fresh now. We’ll be a family.”

And they’d be as broken as families come. 

+ 

My request are open! This is my first jungkook fic but I few more works so check out my # masterlist :)

[jellydishes]

I wonder how Bethany would handle being Champion of Kirkwall instead of Hawke? I'd love to see that idea in a fan fic but I don't know if there is one.

I don't know, either! I would assume there is, because it's actually a thought I've had A Lot, even if it's not a fic I've actually gone out of my way to write. However, have some thoughts! Or many! SO MANY.

•Bethany naturally feels guilty for the loss of her sibling, partially because she places a lot of responsibility upon herself for things that she really has no control over in an attempt to compensate for that very thing. If it's Hawke, she'd be very shaken by the loss of the last real protector figure she had left, and realize just how much Hawke did to shelter all of them and that these were burdens she would now have to accept and handle - with Carver's help, which she is is very grateful for, and leans on him for comfort a lot, even though they would probably bicker more than usual due to stress.

However, if Carver was the sibling that died, Bethany is as usual devastated. She'd taken his presence by her side or slightly in front of her as something she could rely on without thinking about it. He was her twin, one half of her whole, and with this loss she's left floundering for a long time to really find who she is without having him there as a reminder, to compare and contrast and to compliment each other's positives and negatives

•Combined with Leandra's moment of lashing out, she would start to hold back even more from showing negative emotions than she usually does. I've gone into this before in various ways, but Bethany has this tendency towards bottling up these negative emotions out of that same sense of responsibility and guilt that has been dogging her since her magic emerged. She feels intense guilt for the constant instability and danger in her family's lives, which would only grow after the death of her sibling

•The prologue proceeds as usual, with Bethany meeting the companions alongside Hawke/Carver. It's been demonstrated in game and in the World of Thedas books that Bethany was very isolated growing up, which could very well mean that this would be the first time since she was a very young child that she's had anything resembling a social circle. If it's Hawke that survives, she withdraws somewhat behind them with some measure of relief, unless someone pays particular attention to her in one way or another such as when fenris remarks upon her magic and Bethany snaps back at him.

If it's Carver that survives, she shows a bit more of that confidence she does in fact have but doesn't always have the opportunity to show. With him at her side, she feels more sure of who she is. Between that and a sense of newfound responsibility, she takes more risks, small and large- the latter leads to more fights with Carver due to his concern. The twins can feel this distance between themselves growing larger and harder to navigate, and Hate It but have no idea how to stop it, so it just continues, despite -or because of- this

•Bethany accompanies her sibling to the Deep Roads (Hawke, because she was brought along because of her own insistence, and Carver because she needed his reassuring presence and the knowledge of his skills), where they fall prey to the taint. For the sake of argument, let's say Anders has also been brought along, and that Hawke/Carver are sent to the wardens. The foundations of Bethany's world are once again shaken, and that deep weight of responsibility only grows heavier. Stricken with grief for someone who is still alive, Bethany stumbled out of the Deep Roads and back into a city she isn't fully prepared to know how to deal with

•If Hawke had initially survived, Bethany would absolutely flounder initially among the companions, who she had assumed to be more Hawke's friends than her own. Either way, she finds comfort and a sense of belonging among them that she hadn't expected to ever have. She outright tells each of them this at some point during the time skip

•Whether Bethany and the companions clash on various topics also depends on Malcolm Hawke to be honest, such as his attitudes on blood magic. Let us say though, that he believed as he does in game by default, which is that blood magic is a matter of last resort and to be avoided at all costs until that point is reached. (However, these exact thoughts aren't known until the events of Legacy.) That said, Bethany would be uncertain of how exactly to handle Merrill's use of blood magic and the mirror at first, but successive talks with her lead to a shaky understanding. That said, Merrill is much more confident in her place as a mage, and that could only help Bethany in the long run

•With Anders, Bethany finds more common ground and even a sense of purpose she'd still been missing, if she helps him in the clinic. She largely agrees with him about mage freedom, but is at a loss for how to handle some of his thoughts. She'd never really met mages aside from her own family members before. That uncertainty, however, is met by Anders' willingness to discuss his own thoughts, and as Bethany remarks in the prologue, he reminds her of Malcolm Hawke in more than a few ways, which I choose to interpret as mage freedom sympathies that Anders would help to nurture in Bethany

•With Varric, she finds more of that stability she's been missing. He always seems to be one step ahead of everyone else, and she would confide more in him than she might the others for this reason, among others. The fact that he would persist in calling her Sunshine where others in the city would call her Hawke would be another source of comfort in the coming days

•I won't go into every companion just now, but I WILL say that she does in fact disagree with Fenris about the danger of mages as she is shown to in game. I would say that after the Deep Roads, she might be a bit sharper at first than she was initially, but they would soon settle back into an easy friendship that is occasionally marked by these disagreements

•Okay I lied, because you know, you KNOW that Isabela would take it upon herself to help show Bethany some of the lighter parts of the city, and in so doing reassure Bethany that she is in fact her friend too, not just her sibling's. Bethany is somewhat fascinated by her approach to life, and yes, Isabela nudged her bisexual awakening along with those comments on men and women

It's the second act! Qunari tensions! Sister Petrice doing how she do!

•Bethany is Absolutely staggered by living in the estate snd having the security of large amounts of money, especially when combined with the guilt of having sssentialky traded it for her sibling

•Bethany does her best to put out small fires along the way, but as it is in the main game, is utterly unable to stop the uprising and the showdown with the Arishok. Isabela returns, but even that does not stop the fight to the death that ensues. As with Hawke, I am going to assume she barely survives this, and is shocked to discover later that she's been named Champion of Kirkwall

•The city knows her as Hawke, which she would at times feel guilty for and darkly amused. That she has recognition of her own only when she stands almost entirely alone of her family. She has this weight of increased responsibility on her shoulders all over again, that she has to not only live up to her own expectations, but that of an entire city. I'd say she manages to live up to it, but privately admits to the companions that she feels that she never has or will

Finally, we get to the chantry explosion. Everything has been leading up to this moment in time. Bethany of course chooses to side with the mages, and is staring down Anders with the ashes of Meredith Stannard drifting around her feet

She lets him live. Helps push him to his feet, hands clasped together as friends and as fellow warriors in this moment, bonded by grief and responsibility and necessity. Whether she goes with him depends on who you personally would think she would have romanced. I have no own opinions, but what I will say is that she becomes a large name for the mage rebellion during and after this time

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: School Unity Club

Author: @thatsrightdollface

For: @bebexox4

Pairings/Characters: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda, with appearances by both Chiaki Nanami and Kokichi Oma.  Others mentioned.

Rating/Warnings: T.  Some mention of self-deprecating thought might be a relevant warning.  There is also occasional swearing.

Prompt: Non despair hopes peak au with Enemies-Friends-Lovers komahina

Author’s notes:  Hi there!!!  Happy Komahina Secret Exchange, and I hope you enjoy your gifts!!!  :D  This is prompt one of two you can expect this time around.  This was really fun to work on hehehe.  Thank you!!!

1. Okay, Why Are We Starting a School Unity Club Again?

The first time Hope’s Peak Academy tried to recruit Nagito Komaeda, of course he turned them down: he was unworthy, he insisted, trying to laugh at himself, trying to raise his metaphorical palms in obvious surrender.  I mean, come on.  Hope’s Peak… haha, that was for genuinely amazing people.  For the Ultimate Students, glimmering irrefutable beacons of hope to everybody else.  They were — no.  Nagito couldn’t go to school with people like that.  Practically superheroes, so hardworking and disciplined and just everything Nagito knew he didn’t deserve to be.  What would he even say?  How would he know where to sit, or when to participate in class discussions, or how to tactfully say no when they felt obligated to invite him along places?

But, in the end, Hope’s Peak Academy hadn’t so much wanted Nagito as a student, he gathered, as they’d wanted to study his luck.  Nagito’d always had unreasonable, relentless, mythically impossible luck.  Amazing things happened to him, and then… like clockwork, like the gears of the universe churning away… equally devastating things inevitably followed.  The Ultimate Lucky Student.  That’s right.  After years of fallen-apart loved ones and distant extended family members and snakes slithering out of his bathtub drain the second he realized “You know, I think this might be my favorite brand of shampoo,” Nagito Komaeda’s absurd luck was finally going to help somebody.  Hope’s Peak could learn from his luck, and that was worth humiliating himself daily, stumbling around Ultimate Students, rambling and awestruck.  That was worth knowing he’d never belong, because he hadn’t worked for his Talent.  It wasn’t really a Talent at all.

When Nagito was happy, he knew he was sure to feel tears burning against the back of his eyes very soon.  He was happy about the chance to attend Hope’s Peak, despite everything, despite knowing he should have turned the invitation down again, whether his luck could be useful or no…  and so, of course, bad things followed.  Bad things he hadn’t talked to his classmates about, yet, and probably never would.  Because it wasn’t like Nagito had come to such a prestigious institution expecting anybody to actually care about him.  It wasn’t like he would have clawed his way in without being invited.  Right?

Nagito liked to think that was right, anyway, just the way he liked to think he didn’t actually want any of his fancy, impossible new classmates to contradict him when he described himself as worthless, a faceless background character in their lives.  Why should they tell him he was more than a bystander?  Nagito would hold the camera when his classmates wanted a group photo.  That should be more than enough.  If he wanted to get something done for their sake, he could lean on his Ultimate Luck.  If he drew a lottery number, it would always win.  If a car was careening out of control through the school grounds, it would be sure to hit him before it clobbered anyone else.  A weird system — a horrible system, from some points of view — but it was the least Nagito could do.  It was his so-called “Talent,” after all.

Maybe that was why the Reserve Course had never made a lot of sense, to Nagito.  See, some people could pay a hell of a lot of extra tuition money and buy their way into Hope’s Peak…  but not as Ultimates.  It felt like a flashlight demanding to be called the sun, to Nagito.  Like a puddle on the street insisting it was the ocean.  If Ultimates really were “hope,” then how dare anybody scramble around to grab their spotlight away, right?  Reserve Course attendants would probably be easier to get along with than the Ultimate Students, given that Nagito was more or less “one of them”… a nobody, a stranger, an intruder here in this place for gods.  But he didn’t go looking for friends among the Reserve Course, either.  Why should he want to be buddy-buddy with arrogant pretenders?  It wasn’t like Nagito had ever felt especially good at talking to people, anyway.  He’d probably say something wrong; he’d probably mess something up; he’d probably just get furious.  Wouldn’t you want to turn off the flashlight that thought it was the sun?  

Better not to delude yourself, even if the truth was ugly, full of shaky, simpering smiles and resignation.  Happiness led to pain.  Good luck led to misery.  On and on and on, and Nagito had been fairly sure he’d graduate from Hope’s Peak without any of his classmates having memorized his full name.  You know, if he lived that long.

That’s why it was all the more surprising when Chiaki Nanami… the Ultimate Gamer…  kept insisting on talking to him.  Of course, Chiaki was kind to their whole class.  She had no reason to sit silently and play phone games with Nagito until his phone caught fire in his hands — she had no reason to chat about his favorite super-indie horror titles during breaks in schoolwork, coming over to stand by his desk on purpose.  Chiaki wanted to understand everybody: she told Nagito as much, honestly.  Chiaki wanted their whole class to be a team, and so when she asked Nagito to show up for movie nights he did.  He knew he’d suffer the bad luck for it later, but he picked up the phone when Chiaki called him every time.  

If she wanted to be friends with everyone, Chiaki shouldn’t have to work for the Ultimate Lucky Student’s friendship, obviously.  He should be a shoe-in.  And it wasn’t really that Nagito was having fun that kept him sticking around, probably.  It wasn’t really that he was starting to banter with the Ultimate Mechanic and the Ultimate Gangster, as if they were actually… uh… friendly acquaintances, or something, either.  Chiaki told him he was reliable, even if he still wouldn’t admit he belonged with the rest of them.  Even if he said hurtful things sometimes and didn’t seem to realize it.

“What?!” Nagito had balked, then.  “Have I insulted you?  Oh, no.  No, that’s unacceptable.  For someone like me to speak badly of an Ultimate Student, even without meaning to —”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Chiaki had answered.  She reminded Nagito of a cat, pretty consistently… heavy-lidded eyes, and a voice like a tail swishing slowly back and forth.  She didn’t look up from the game system in her hands as she drawled at him.  “You say horrible things about yourself, and about how you can’t understand why I’d want anything to do with you…  makes me feel like you don’t think I can pick my own friends.  I say I think you’re okay, and you spend the next half an hour telling me why that’s a stupid thing to think.  Kazuichi says he’s glad you stopped by to help him work on that robot project he’s building, and you have to make him apologize for thinking ‘trash like you’ deserves to hang out with the Ultimate Mechanic at all.”

Nagito wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that.  He’d cleared his throat.

“Your friends will hurt when they see you hurt, Nagito.  I always heard people in games saying that, and now I know it’s true.  Okay?”

“Hm.  Okay…  if you’re sure, as an Ultimate Student.”

“I’m sure as your friend Chiaki.”

“Interesting.  I mean…  yeah, I’ll do my best not to hurt you?”

Nagito had been watching the way he talked about himself around Chiaki Nanami for about a week before she came to him with a plan she’d been working on with the Ultimate Supreme Leader.  Kokichi Oma was a couple years behind them, but he was always scheming like the “Spawn of Loki” the Ultimate Animal Breeder declared him to be — his latest plan involved trying to unite the two branches of their school, the Main Course and the Reserve Course, coming together for some sort of mysterious club.  Chiaki was all for it, apparently, and Nagito had wanted to say a lot of things.  He’d wanted to say it sounded like reassuring the puddle that ships could drown in it after all, and coral reefs were sure to grow.  It felt false, and wrong.  But a lot of things Kokichi Oma said felt “false and wrong,” and Nagito wanted to be Chiaki’s real, worthy friend so badly.  He agreed to help, however he could.

“It’s so generous of the Ultimates to share their Talents with everybody!” Nagito said.  That was a fair enough rationalization, wasn’t it?  “You really are a commendable person, Ultimate Supreme Leader.  Even if practically everything you say is a shameless lie!”

And, “Hey now, most of my nefarious criminal organization members wouldn’t be called ‘Ultimate,’ and they’ve got more talents to share around than this whole stuck-up school,” Kokichi answered, voice light and airy, like he wasn’t actually invested in the conversation… though his eyes said he really was, unless that expression was just another lie from him?  Lies upon lies upon lies.  People told Nagito he was confusing to talk to, but surely he couldn’t have anything on Kokichi Oma.  Was that okay for him to think?  “A lot of these titles we got assigned feel pretty arbitrary, if you ask me.  And it’s ridiculous we’ve never actually met so many of our classmates!”

Nagito raised his eyebrows. “Classmates?”

Kokichi stared him down, smile practically painted on.  “Classmates.  Yeah.  Just think of how many possible recruits for my organization might be waiting in the Reserve Course…  ya think any of ‘em are interested in a life of evil?”

“Most of the people who made the games we play aren’t Ultimates, either,” Chiaki murmured, at Kokichi’s side.  She was muted and dusky pink, with a tender, hesitant smile — Kokichi was so glaringly bright and loud next to her.  They made a strange team, but of course no stranger than Nagito and anyone in the world.  “Please, Nagito.  The School Unity Club is going to try and form real friendships…  I think it’s a chance for us to do something good, and to learn what it’s like to be in the Reserve Course.“

As if Nagito wanted to understand something like that!  Haha!  Oh, Chiaki.  No.

But that’s what led Nagito here, to the first official School Unity Club meeting.  He filled out the Getting to Know Everybody Questionnaire Kokichi and Chiaki passed out, and he hung around in the back of the room, hands folded in his pockets, face perfectly neutral, until a spiky haired Reserve Course guy came storming up to him.  What could have possibly gotten this uppity loser so mad?  Chiaki had decorated this classroom herself, specifically for trash like the both of them.  They should be so grateful.  There were streamers and everything.

“Are you Nagito Komaeda?” Mr. Pointy-Hair spat.

“I am.  Nice to meet —”

“So you’re the one who wrote that people who joined the Reserve Course have ‘no good reason to be here’ on the questionnaire.  Knowing we’d all read it — knowing how much we want to attend Hope’s Peak Academy —”

Nagito nodded, letting himself smile.  Ah, okay.  This was making a little sense now.  “Excuse me, I think you misunderstand something,” he tried to clarify.  “I don’t believe I have a good reason to be here, either…  really, we’re almost the same, you and me.  I probably have more to say to someone like you than my whole class!”  Nagito paused.  Glanced over at the Ultimate Gamer.  “Except for Chiaki.  Maybe.  If she still thinks so.”

Mr. Pointy-Hair didn’t look reassured by Nagito’s explanation.  If anything, his cheeks were flushed red, the fury creeping up to the tips of his ears, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.  He was a little shorter than Nagito, but he was standing as tall as he possibly could.  “Someone like me?” he asked.  It was a question, somehow, but what exactly did he expect Nagito to say?  Mr. Pointy-Hair’s teeth were ground together, but there was something honest and wholesome about his mossy green eyes.  Nagito might have wanted to ask his name, if he didn’t feel sure he was about to get yelled at.  Why weren’t they understanding each other, exactly, here?

“You’re not an Ultimate,” Nagito said, explaining something painfully simple.  “This is a school for extraordinary people, and you and I are both unworthy of it.  You see?  But that shouldn’t be news to you…”

Mr. Pointy-Hair was spitting mad.  Was he going to punch Nagito, next?  Or simply tell him how awful he was?  Nagito was bracing himself either way, but he shouldn’t have bothered.  That was when Kokichi Oma’s spotlight found them, after all.  That was when the Ultimate Supreme Leader — sauntering around on a stage made of pushed-together desks and using a super-chipper ringmaster voice — declared, “Oh!  And what’s this?  Mr. Komaeda and Mr. Hinata are already picking a fight!  I think we just found some volunteers for a club project, guys!”

There was a scattering of polite, confused applause, and this Mr. Pointy-Hair Hinata spun around on his heel and threw himself out of the room.  The door slammed, and his footsteps thudded away down the hall.

Nagito took a stumbling half-step after him.  He didn’t mean to.  This was the sort of pretender who thought he deserved to be an Ultimate without earning it, after all.  There was no reason to wonder what their club project would be together, or if he’d ever learn Hinata’s first name.  There was no reason to ask what the Ultimate Supreme Leader had in store for them to work on — there was probably no reason to assume he and Hinata would ever see each other again, or get another chance to try and have an actual conversation.

Nagito asked Kokichi what their assignment was, anyway.

1½. Talking to You’s Like Trying to Paint in the Rain

Hajime Hinata figured if he just never attended a School Unity Club meeting again, he could simmer for a while and then amble on like this never happened.  Like he’d never met Nagito Komaeda, with his hazy dark eyes and drifting, shaky-yet-infuriatingly-resolute voice.  If he never joined up with the club again, then he couldn’t be assigned any weird-ass “club projects,” could he?  And since Nagito was part of the Main Course…  an Ultimate, even if he’d tried to convince Hajime they were “the same,” or whatever…  their paths wouldn’t necessarily cross, otherwise.  They even had passing periods at different times, and if Hajime saw Nagito’s fluffy, flyaway white hair from across the hallway he just stopped in his tracks and stalked away.

But, I mean…  that isn’t the end of the story, obviously.  Hajime underestimated the Ultimate Supreme Leader, and also how ridiculous things could get at Hope’s Peak Academy.  Sometimes, the place barely even felt real.

Hajime received the instructions for his and Nagito Komaeda’s club project midway through math class.  The guy in front of him — who he’d known the whole year, mind you, and was definitely just some guy who liked comic books and was often a little late to class — turned around in his seat and stage-whispered, “Hey, Hinata, you wouldn’t happen to know the answer to question thirteen, would you?”

“There is no question thirteen,” Hajime answered.  “The worksheet only goes to ten —” and then he actually looked up, to raise his eyebrows at his classmate and/or see if they had different worksheets for some reason.  And well.  Hm.  Wouldn’t you know it, this wasn’t his classmate at all.  This was very obviously Kokichi Oma from the Main Course in a wig.  The Ultimate Supreme Leader was wearing a Reserve Course uniform with the tie knotted all sloppily, and he grinned like the damn Cheshire Cat as he handed over a big envelope with the words “This is not your School Unity Club project assignment!” scribbled on it.

“Oh!  Nice eye,” Kokichi grinned.  “Aren’t you a smart one.”

“I don’t want to work with Nagito Komaeda,” Hajime hissed.  “And Kokichi, this isn’t your class.”

“Are you sure I’m not enrolled in the Reserve Course, too?”

“Ugh.  Yes?  And you’re two years behind me.”

Kokichi scratched at his forehead.  Hajime thought maybe he was taunting him, intentionally fiddling with his wig so that a little of his flippy purple hair snuck out.  “Nagito’s stubborn, isn’t he?  Kind of like you.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Hajime said, but even as he spat those words he knew they weren’t completely true.  Honestly, Hajime felt sick with guilt for getting his family to pay this ridiculous Hope’s Peak Reserve Course tuition — he’d tried to change his own mind, convincing himself it didn’t matter whether the world called him Special.  The Ultimate Students were just people, he told himself.  So what if nobody thought he was good enough to be one of them?  He could still live a happy, normal life…  he could still pour attention into the hobbies he loved, and spend time with the people he cared about, and maybe it was kind of a pain to have your face on convenience store magazines anyway.

Hajime told himself stuff like that over and over again, but it wasn’t like it stuck, you know?  It didn’t change the tide of his thoughts.  It felt like the minute he painted a nice, encouraging picture of an alternative to Hope’s Peak Academy for himself, it got washed away.  Staring into Nagito’s serene, self-righteously knowing eyes had felt a little like that, too.  Hajime got the feeling that he could talk to him and talk to him, but it was almost impossible to change this guy’s mind until he changed it himself.  

It was infuriating, wasn’t it, talking to people like that?

“If you want to prove you’re really different than Nagito — you’re really not super-stubborn and impossible to reach — you can always just do the project,” the Ultimate Supreme Leader grinned.  “Up to you.  I told him to meet you by those big fountains after school, and I think he’s actually gonna do it.  He asked what your first name was, too…  I told him it was ‘Daisuke.’”

“But it isn’t.”

“Oops, my bad.  So tell him yourself.”

Hajime read the crayon-drawing assignment sheets waiting for him in that envelope during a break, sitting slumped over at a table with a bunch of students he didn’t really know.  Apparently, Kokichi and the Ultimate Gamer wanted Hajime and Nagito to make a short documentary film showing everybody what life was like in the Hope’s Peak Reserve Course.  They were supposed to interview students and get some funny stories; they were supposed to go over some of the things people were studying, and rate whether the desks were comfy.  Just…  get a portrait of the Reserve Course as people, basically, the instructions said.  And be sure to let the Ultimate Supreme Leader know if anyone seemed open to helping with this prank he had in the works.  Get them to sign a short, totally-harmless liability form.  It’ll be fun.

Hajime crumpled the envelope and all its assignment sheets up, one by one, preparing to toss them away with the rest of his trash.  But then he unfolded them, running a hand through his sticky-uppy hair.  

You know what?  

Why not.  

Maybe it would do Nagito Komaeda some good, to get to know the people he was insulting.  To see the school from a different point of view.  Maybe it would be satisfying to see him feel like a jerk, fumbling around, trying oh-so-messily to explain himself to anybody a little less forgiving than Hajime.  Anyway, it was sort of annoying the guy thought his name was something random Kokichi Oma had pulled out of a hat, too.

So Hajime went to meet Nagito by the fountains.  For a moment, before they actually started working on the project, it had felt sort of right.  Nagito had stood up from where he’d been bent over some homework; he’d smoothed down his vest, and smiled awkwardly, self-consciously.  Hopefully.  It had looked like maybe he would apologize.  Maybe he’d thought over what he said, and Hajime didn’t need to spend any time convincing him he was an asshole.  In that case, maybe Nagito was the kind of willowy handsome that Hajime liked in drama actors, if you got past the funny way he held himself.  In that case, maybe his voice was sort of soft and lyrical, and if they were talking about something else…  almost anything else…  Hajime wouldn’t really mind listening to him.

But then, uh.  Hajime got close enough for Nagito to wave, and call, “Do you understand what I meant, now, then?  It’s nice to meet you properly, Daisuke!”  And it only went downhill from there.  

It didn’t help that the minute Hajime handed Nagito the school-owned camera Kokichi had finagled for them to use, it got carried out of his hands by an actual hawk.  What the hell?  “Ultimate Luck,” Nagito clarified, but what did that even mean?  So then they were gonna record the thing on Hajime’s phone, except that they couldn’t decide where to start.  Who to talk to.  They got into a half-shouting match in front of a few of Hajime’s friendlier classmates, who excused themselves as quickly as possible.  They tried to film the gymnasium, but it was closed for emergency fumigation and they ended up gagging, hunched over outside the doors for about five minutes.  They tried to film in the dorms, but Hajime’s entrance pass cracked in two when they attempted to use it.  Those were expensive!  Augh!  Why was Nagito laughing?!

Whatever Hajime tried to do, it felt like Nagito came sliding over to step on his toes.  They were getting nowhere.  This project was getting nowhere.  They had to delete the one decent interview they managed to get because Hajime himself accidentally had his thumb over the camera.  He had literally no idea how he could’ve missed something like that.

“Ultimate Luck,” Nagito said, again, for about the millionth time that evening.  “See?  It’s really not always much of a talent!”

That was the last straw.  Hajime was done.  Nagito was still obsessed with this concept of “talent”; Nagito was the last person who should be making a video trying to show what life was really like for Reserve Course students.  The Ultimate Supreme Leader was probably just messing with them, just being a little shit like people said he tended to be.  School Unity?  What could Nagito Komaeda do to work towards School Unity?  He was probably the sort of person who would want to trap a lizard that thought it was a dragon, just to show the poor little guy how small he really was.  Hajime didn’t have time for this.

And so he told Nagito as much, and he gathered up his things.  He deleted all the footage they’d recorded for their project, and went back home.  That could’ve been the end of it.  If Kokichi turned up in any of his classes again, Hajime would just tune him out.  If the Ultimate Gamer asked him why he didn’t come around anymore, yeah, okay, he’d apologize, but that was it.

Hajime didn’t hear anything from the School Unity Club for about a month.  “Good riddance,” he thought.  He imagined himself slamming a book closed.  And then possibly kicking said book under the bed, or something.

When he got a text from Kokichi Oma — wait, how had the Ultimate Supreme Leader gotten his phone number?! — Hajime almost didn’t open it.  But morbid curiosity won out in the end, as it so often did.  Morbid curiosity, and that claustrophobic, helplessly-stricken pull to the Ultimate Students Hajime still felt, even now.  He had wanted to be valuable, to be seen; he had wanted to be a revelation.  Every breath he took on this earth could have been game-changing, if only he’d been born someone else.

“Nice work on your video,” Kokichi said.  “Turned out really insightful.  I think it’ll help the Reserve Course students feel seen, too.”

Alright.  Hold on.

What?

***

2. The Light

When Nagito Komaeda asked the Ultimate Supreme Leader whether it had been difficult, convincing Hajime to come watch his documentary about the Hope’s Peak Academy Reserve Course together, Kokichi said, “You just better not mess this up, kid,” with a big, sloppy wink.  Nevermind that he really hadn’t answered the question, actually, when Nagito thought back on it – nevermind that Kokichi was… again…  younger than him.   Maybe it meant Hajime had struggled against the idea of ever actually talking to Nagito again, and Kokichi’d had to bribe him with glittery promises like, “If you give the video a chance, I’ll delete your phone number from my contacts list!”  Or maybe it meant Nagito should feel lucky – lucky in a good way, mind you – because Hajime hadn’t needed a lot of nagging at all.  Maybe Mr. Pointy-Hair was genuinely curious.  Maybe he’d be willing to forgive how badly things had gone, and try, Nagito didn’t know, “hanging out” again, sometime.

“Why did you lie about Hajime’s name, to me?” Nagito asked.  “I looked…  inconsiderate.”

“Who knows?” Kokichi said.  “I do stuff like that, you know.”

It would’ve been way too easy, if Kokichi Oma had been willing to answer a simple question for once.  But all the same, Nagito ended up sitting alone in a dark, lonely classroom after club activities were over for the night; all the same, Nagito had finished up the Reserve Course documentary film on his own.  He’d purchased four separate video cameras, and lost them all to his ruthless luck.  He’d interviewed people from Hajime’s classes, asking the questions Hajime had scrawled out on the back of Kokichi’s crumpled-up assignment envelope that time they tried working together.  “What brought you to the Reserve Course?”  “What’s your most precious goal, and how do you hope the Reserve Course will help you get there?”  “Do you like going to school here?”  “What do you think Hope’s Peak could do differently, to show that it values all its students?”  Some of the answers he’d gotten were genuinely shocking – one of them made him cry, actually, and try to shake the girl’s hand afterwards.  (She took his hand, yes, but then asked why there was so much mud on it.  Oh, crap.  Nagito’d forgotten that happened…  he’d been swallowed up by a surprise swamp on the way across campus that day.)  All of the answers were…  human?  Maybe sometimes it was easy to get so wrapped up in this business of hope and despair, talent and luck, that Nagito forgot how learning a person’s abilities just barely scraped the surface of what it would be like getting to know them.  He didn’t talk much at all, giving his interviews – aside from asking questions, of course.  He laughed at jokes, sometimes, but he tried to laugh quietly, without wobbling the camera too much.

Nagito had expected the interviews would enrage him – would make him think these people were ungrateful, were building themselves homemade trophies to take away from the Ultimate Talents the Main Course actually earned.  And sometimes, yeah, sometimes he did want to argue back.  Put them in their places, back in the dirt with him; click off the flashlight that thought it was the sun.  But he listened, for a while, anyway.  Maybe it was because Hajime would’ve wanted him to, at first – maybe it was because Hajime might have said he couldn’t do it.   But in the end, Nagito found himself with a lot of footage of people telling him their truths, and so many of those stories tasted familiar. That longing, that hurt, that want, that hunger.  It had been written all over Hajime’s face when they first met, but Nagito’d never asked his story, had he?

Ah, well.  Nagito had tried making the documentary into something Hajime wouldn’t hate, you know?  He’d gone to one of the Reserve Course’s basketball games and recorded the crowds cheering, recorded the players’ teamwork and struggle.  None of the players were the Ultimate Basketball Star or anything, but it still mattered when they won, didn’t it?  Maybe not as much, existentially, or for the hope of the world as Nagito understood it, but – but it could still be emotional watching them come together and ruffle each other’s hair, afterwards, reminiscing about the game.  Nagito had attempted to go to a Reserve Course swimming team competition too, but of course the pool flooded the second he stepped in the building…  and like, really flooded, in that most of the bleachers were still underwater and they hadn’t been able to drain the dressing rooms, yet.  Some sort of weird, constant flow in from ocean?!  Nagito wasn’t sure on the specifics.  Point being, he’d stopped attending sports events for a while, but he had asked Chiaki to record the Reserve Course’s musical production of Les Misérables so he could splice some of it into the documentary.

Nagito didn’t ask specific questions about Hajime Hinata while conducting his interviews, but he’d heard some stuff about him all the same.  He was a good classmate, people said – a hard worker, soft-spoken, but he didn’t just sit back and take kindly to bullies.  He was smart, but his handwriting was terrible, and he and Nagito seemed to like the same type of video games.  Hajime’s classmates mentioned him in passing, see, discussing him among themselves…  or they said, “Oh, no, Nagito’s probably okay.  He was with Hajime a couple days ago, remember?  Hey, Nagito, are you two friends?”

Um.

In that moment, Nagito had wanted very badly to say yes, yes they were friends. He would’ve been proud to have Hajime like him, as a person, the way Chiaki seemed to.  But he just sort of smiled and shook his head.  “We were working on a project together,” he offered.  “School Unity Club.”   It was probably fair to leave it at that, right?  

But now the documentary was finished, and Hajime had been persuaded… somehow…  to come to some empty classroom after School Unity Club let out and watch it at Nagito’s side.  Nagito hadn’t really felt like he should be going to School Unity Club meetings lately: it was surreal to be back here again, inviting Hajime into the ruins of a game tournament.  There was a scribbly, multi-color scoreboard, and bits of the floor were duct-taped off into what looked like a beanbag chair/slime vat obstacle course.  The janitors at Hope’s Peak must have hated Kokichi Oma.  Or who knows, really?  Maybe he was planning to slink back in and clean all this up himself, after Nagito and Hajime finished with their video.  Nagito showed Hajime over to some chairs he’d set up in front of his cracked-apart personal laptop.  He pulled out Hajime’s chair a little bit, like they were someplace fancy, and Hajime scoffed.  He sat down, though.  And then he gestured to Nagito’s chair, like, “Well?”

They watched the documentary in silence.  Sometimes Hajime shifted, or scratched at his neck.  Sometimes he gasped, or shot Nagito careful, considering eyes.  Nagito…  for his part…  tried his best to keep his expression neutral, the same as he’d done at that first School Unity Club meeting.  The last interview was with himself, after all, and he thought he’d made his own points pretty clear.  He didn’t understand what the Reserve Course meant, in connection to the Main Course here at Hope’s Peak Academy…  on one hand he still thought it defied the point of the whole place, but on the other it was a class full of creativity and excitement and hope for the future, too.  He’d learned a lot from the Reserve Course students, and it had been fun spending time with them.  The interview questions had been written by Hajime Hinata, but they’d honestly become Nagito’s questions too, by the end.  He thanked the viewer for watching, and the interviewees for talking to him, and the swimming team for their forgiveness when he tried to explain that it was his weird luck that ruined their tournament.

It wasn’t perfect.  Nagito stumbled over his words, sometimes, and he contradicted himself, and he went on a short monologue about how it was possible hope came in innumerable different forms.  He hinted at one of his most embarrassing thoughts, too – that maybe…  just maybe, possibly, against all odds… it might’ve been more merciful to have a world without the worship of talent, a world where all people could just live as themselves and know that was enough. He had almost edited that part out.  In another life, he probably wouldn’t have wanted anyone in the world to hear it.  It flew in the face of everything he was supposed to honor, after all.  It was skeptical of the very concept of the Ultimate Talents themselves.

Nagito might not have been able to explain exactly why he kept that part of his own interview in the documentary.  Maybe he wanted Hajime to get him, if they ever spoke again.  Maybe so many strangers had been utterly, vulnerably honest with him, he felt like it was sort of his turn. Either way, he winced, taking in the frustrated surrender on his own recorded face.  He kept his arms folded over his chest and gritted his teeth.  Hajime was watching him imagine a world where all that mattered was the light, whether it came from a flashlight or the sun.  For all Nagito knew, he sounded ridiculous.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be,” Hajime said, slowly, after the credits rolled – Chiaki was thanked for most things Nagito hadn’t attributed to either himself or the conspicuously-absent Hajime Hinata.  “Thanks, Nagito.  You…  are you going to the next club meeting?”

“What?  Am I…?”

“I mean the School Unity Club.  If you go to the next meeting, I’ll come too.”

Nagito swallowed, fidgeting.  He brushed a little messy white hair behind his ear.  “Yeah.  Yeah, absolutely.”  He decided to push his luck, just a little, then, seeing Hajime smile: he decided to try and make this raw, beautiful person that hated him laugh.  “Maybe Kokichi’ll stop pestering me if I finally participate.”

Hajime snorted.  He relaxed, just the littlest bit, and Nagito felt his insides twist.  That was an unfamiliar feeling.

“Probably not,” Hajime said.

“No… probably not.”

That couldn’t have been part of the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s secret conniving plan, though, right?  To get them to bond over mutual frustration…  to pester them both until they started commiserating about it…

Right?

But then, maybe Nagito shouldn’t put it past him.  Kokichi’d earned his Ultimate Student-status somehow.  Maybe he and Chiaki hadn’t been completely wrong about a School Unity Club, either.

Well, now… they’d just played right into the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s hands, hadn’t they?

That didn’t matter too much, somehow, when Hajime was taking Nagito out to arcades with his other friends, and on hikes in the forest, and to read quietly on a bench in the park.  Sun on their skin, wind in their hair, ruffling the pages of their books just the littlest bit…  or else grabbing Nagito’s book away and hurtling it out horrifyingly fast into oncoming traffic.  Or maybe it was the first book Hajime got him as a gift that would get stolen by a randomly-appearing hawk, this time?   At least now Hajime knew Nagito usually laughed that desperate, rattling sort of cackle when he was upset.  Nervous.  Panicking.  At least now Hajime would rub his back, a little, and tell him they were fine.  Hey, hey.  Nagito, look at me.  Your luck isn’t your fault.  Just breathe.

Breathe.

No, falling for the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s machinations barely mattered at all, this time.

2 ½. So Glad I was Wrong About You

The first time Hajime Hinata kissed Nagito Komaeda, he hadn’t been expecting to do it, himself, if you’d asked him just five minutes before.  They were doing homework together, and the year was almost over – Nagito had asked Hajime to come to the Main Course Graduation Ball with him, as friends, of course, and high school was winding down to an end for both of them.  Hajime had just worked weekend shifts at a thrift store to buy himself a set of four-leaf clover cufflinks to wear with his suit, small and gold and hopefully not the sort of thing Nagito would think was tacky.  They were…  Hajime hadn’t known what they were, exactly, until he found himself watching the way Nagito talked with his hands, staring off into the distance, swept away in what they were discussing.  He remembered something their mutual friend Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, had said a few weeks before:

“I don’t think Nagito’s gonna ask you to go to the ball as his date-date.  But if he does, be nice.”

Hajime hadn’t pressed Chiaki on that, for some reason.  He’d been a little distracted by how she was completely annihilating him in the game they were playing.  Why hadn’t he…  dammit, why hadn’t he really heard her, then?  If Nagito asked him out, like…  as a boyfriend…  Hajime was supposed to treat him gently.  Maybe Chiaki thought Hajime would’ve wanted to say no, to an invitation like that?  It was hard to say.  Her expression had been all dusty lavender, vague and soft, watching her character defeat Hajime’s so, so mercilessly.  The game had been reflected in her eyes, neon and flickering and fast.

But maybe…  maybe what Chiaki said had meant more than just some run-of-the-mill politeness advice.   It could have meant Nagito’d told Chiaki he was interested in taking Hajime as his date-date, but had backed away squirming from the idea because he was still getting over the concept that he was somehow fundamentally broken.   Maybe he didn’t realize Hajime had bought those four-leaf clover cufflinks like a promise, because he didn’t want this Graduation Ball to be the last chance he got to wear them.  To be fair, Hajime had only just realized that, himself.  Who else was he gonna wear four-leaf clovers for, if not the Ultimate Lucky Student?  He’d gotten to know Nagito’s luck extremely well, over the last year together; he knew which scars he tended to keep hidden, because he hated explaining their backstories, and he had watched Nagito’s closing monologue from that Reserve Course documentary over and over in the dead of night.  Trying to understand it.  Trying to understand this impossible, contrary guy who had just helped him edit his last Japanese Literature essay of the semester.

Hajime had kept telling himself he was done with Nagito Komaeda – for weeks, he’d told himself that.  It felt like such a waste, now.  They were both growing beyond Hope’s Peak Academy, in their ways, even though obviously there had been a time when Hajime would’ve told you that was impossible.  He hadn’t thought he could imagine himself a meaningful future without some link to Ultimate Talent, without this school, whatever exactly it was, but the possibilities had started painting themselves to life without him really noticing it.  The change crept in so sweetly, somewhere between the Ultimate Supreme Leader dragging the whole School Unity Club into participating in the next academy-wide musical and that time they’d all gotten lost in the mountains and Hajime found himself spreading his coat out over Nagito while he slept.   Living had changed things, brought meaning where none had been assigned by fancy academy board members.  When Hajime learned about the Izuru Kamukura Project – a study that had apparently endowed some random Reserve Course student with all the Ultimate Talents under the sun – he was jealous, yeah, but not the way he felt he should have been.

Hajime leaned across the desk and took Nagito’s face in his hands; he kissed him fast and hard, before he could change his mind.  Kissed him like he’d yelled his actual first name in his face.  Kissed him like truth, and the revelation he’d always thought maybe he could be, if only, if only, if only.  He felt Nagito tense and then soften; he felt Nagito try to speak, and then close his eyes, pale lashes brushing against his skin.  Hajime ran his hand down Nagito’s neck, and tangled it just a little in his unbrushed hair.  Nagito made a wondering, helpless sound, and Hajime held him closer.  Pulled back.  Kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Nagito said.  Hajime didn’t think he knew what for.   Maybe he was still sorry for saying he didn’t think Hajime had any reason to come to this school and that whole tangled-up, confusing introduction they’d had; maybe he was just worried he’d turned out to be a disappointing kisser.  Somewhere out in the hallway, Kokichi Oma was laughing, calling, “You’ll never take me alive!” to someone chasing him with a mysteriously bedazzled mop.  Somewhere out in the hallway, Izuru Kamukura – Reserve Course student-turned living god – was staring out at the world and realizing it was all immeasurably, heartbreakingly boring, when all the talent possible was limp in his hands.

“Why?” Hajime asked.

“Um,” Nagito said.  There were so many words churning inside him, but he was holding Hajime’s hand really tightly, now.  He cleared his throat.  “I mean, we can try that again, if you want.  If I did it wrong.”

Hajime and Nagito were both strong believers in second chances, by that point.  They went to the Main Course Graduation Ball with Nagito holding Hajime’s hand just as tight, and no, that absolutely wasn’t the last chance Hajime had to wear those four-leaf clover cufflinks.  

[alphacrone]

the sun shines and fights for your day (2122 words) by the_one_that_fell Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga), Fruits Basket Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kuragi Machi & Sohma Kisa, Kuragi Machi & Sohma Hiro, Kuragi Machi/Sohma Yuki, Sohma Hiro/Sohma Kisa TW: Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Verbal Abuse, Slight Victim Blaming, Manga Spoilers

Summary: Machi didn’t get harassed or catcalled often. But that didn’t mean it never happened.

Or, Machi is rescued by the two youngest members of the Zodiac.

***

Machi didn’t get harassed or catcalled often. 

She chalked it up to her talent at being virtually invisible in public more than anything else. Her entire life, she had been quiet and dull and very good at ignoring men. But that didn’t mean it never happened. 

“I have a boyfriend,” she told the man blocking her path. She’d only run out to pick up some groceries before Yuki’s visit this afternoon, but this—admittedly tall —jackass was making it difficult. 

“Oh?” The guy smirked at her. “I don’t see him.” 

Machi bristled, but kept her expression neutral. “I don’t need a chaperone to run errands, do I?” 

“C’mon, smile a bit,” he told her, stepping closer. “You’re being rude. We’re just talking, aren’t we?” 

“Leave me alone,” Machi said, frustration leaking into her tone. Yuki had taught her a few self-defense moves before he graduated, but people were starting to notice as the guy in front of her grew louder. She couldn’t just kick him in the balls for being annoying. 

“Hey, I’m just being friendly,” the guy snapped, smile dropping. “Don’t you know how to make friends?”

“No,” Machi replied truthfully. She didn’t intentionally make friends; friends generally wormed their way into her life against her will. “Go away.” 

“You’re such a bitch,” the guy spat. “Bet you think you’re so much better than me, is that it? Get off your high horse, you stupid slut.”

“Okay.” Machi sighed. All she wanted was to get some ingredients for soumen. Why couldn’t this guy just leave her alone? He was starting to make her nervous; what if he followed her home? Steeling herself, Machi ducked around him, but he caught her arm and yanked her back.

“Hey!” He shouted, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh of her upper arm. Machi let out a surprised yelp of pain. “Don’t walk away when I’m talking to yo- OOF. ”

Suddenly the hand was gone, and Machi turned to see the guy sprawled across the sidewalk, clutching at his stomach. Standing above him was a kid, probably middle school aged, who raised a fist in warning. 

“She didn’t wanna talk to you, you dumb bastard!” The kid shouted, his voice cracking almost comically. “Go jump in a lake!”

“C’mon.” A small, soft hand took Machi’s, and she looked down to see a young girl tugging at her to move. “Hiro’s got him distracted, let’s get away.” 

Machi nodded mutely and let the girl drag her down the street, away from the man and the boy who’d saved her. They ended up at the entrance to a busy park, and the girl let out a deep sigh of relief. She looked up at Machi with brilliant, amber eyes. Despite the difference in color, Machi was reminded of Yuki. 

“Are you okay?” The girl asked, nose scrunching in worry. She was cute in a way Machi didn’t know existed in real life. Was this some sort of child model? A tiny idol? A robot escaped from a laboratory? 

“Did your friend...headbutt that guy in the stomach?” Machi asked. Everything had happened so quickly that it was a blur, but she was certain the kid hadn’t come at them with his fists alone. 

“Aha, um...yes.” The girl looked down at her feet. “It’s a bad habit of his from- it’s a bad habit.” 

Machi felt her lips twitch upwards. “I don’t think it’s a bad habit to save people.”

The girl beamed up at her, clasping her hands together. “So, you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? He was so scary.” 

“Ah, no, I’m fine,” Machi said, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Thanks.” 

“Oi! Kisa!” 

The boy was jogging towards them, face pulled into a deep scowl. To Machi’s relief, he didn’t have a scratch on him. 

“Hiro!” The girl—Kisa—waved him over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Hiro said, scowl lessening as Kisa checked him over. When he caught sight of Machi, however, he huffed and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “You . Learn how to stand up for yourself! I can’t stand people who let themselves get walked all over. What if we hadn’t been there? You can’t expect others to fight your battles!” 

Machi quirked an eyebrow. Who did this little punk think he was, her father? It was almost funny, getting lectured by a child. She let her thoughts drift to Yuki as the kid rambled on. He’d be here in an hour and she still needed to pick up groceries. Neither of them could cook, even after lessons from Tohru, but they had fun trying. Sometimes Yuki would purposefully smear sauce across her cheek, just so he could lick it off. The bastard thought he was so smooth ...but Machi would be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart race. 

“Hiro!” Kisa shouted, disrupting Machi’s train of thought. “Stop it! If she’d hit that guy, he could’ve hurt her! You’re being mean. I’m...I’m disappointed in you.” 

Machi hid her laugh behind a cough as the boy’s face grew bright red. He was a piece of work, but Kisa seemed to have him wrapped around her finger. They very suddenly reminded her of Tohru and Kyo, and this time she couldn’t help but snort a little. 

“I-I-” Hiro bowed, first to Kisa, then Machi. “I’m sorry,” he said, head lowered. “I just got scared, seeing that guy grab you. I- I don’t like bullies.”

“It’s fine,” Machi said with a shrug. “I know a few self-defense moves, I guess I just froze. So, thank you. For interfering.” 

Hiro nodded, looking at Kisa sheepishly until she smiled at him. Machi really wasn’t sure if these two were dating or siblings or whatever, but the way they interacted made her feel warm inside. They clearly knew each other well. 

“I’m Kisa, by the way,” the girl said to introduce herself. “Kisa Sohma. And this is Hiro Sohma. Do you mind if we walk you home, just to make sure you get there safe?” 

“Soh...ma?” Machi’s brain short-circuited. 

“Ah, yeah. Sohma,” Kisa repeated with a smile. 

“Are you related to Yuki Sohma?” Machi asked slowly. Surely that was too much of a coincidence. But these kids were unnaturally pretty, and Kisa’s hair -

“Yes!” Kisa clapped her hands together. “He’s our relative. You know Yuki?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s my boyfriend.” 

Kisa’s mouth fell open. Hiro snorted. “That guy has a girlfriend ?” 

“Really?” Kisa asked, ignoring Hiro. “It’s so nice to meet you! Onee-chan mentioned Yuki was dating someone but I haven’t talked to him in a while so I never got to ask.” She paused, tilting her head to the side to look Machi up and down. “You’re pretty.” 

Despite herself, Machi felt her face heat up. “Um. My name is Machi Kuragi.” 

“You could do better,” Hiro said off-handedly. Kisa smacked his arm. 

“Yuki is nice, don’t say that,” she whispered. “Onee-chan, can we walk you home?” 

It seemed yet another person in Yuki’s life had already adopted her—first Tohru, then Ayame, and now Kisa. Machi couldn’t really complain, though. It was nice to have a family. 

“Uh, sure.” Machi decided she and Yuki could just go out to eat. Their cooking was pretty atrocious. “I’m just a couple blocks this way,” she said, jabbing her thumb in the direction of her apartment. 

Without warning, Kisa grabbed Machi’s hand again and took the lead, despite not knowing the way. Hiro trailed after them, mumbling about older women stealing his girlfriend, but he didn’t seem too angry. “If you’re dating Yuki,” Kisa said. “Does that mean you’re friends with Tohru?” 

Machi nodded. “We’re not close, but she’s easy to be friends with.”

“She’s the best, isn’t she?” Kisa asked, grinning from ear to ear. “I miss her a lot.” 

“She should dump Kyo,” Hiro butted in. “He’s such a loser. Then she could move back here.” 

“Hiro,” Kisa warned, her tone more playful than upset. “Don’t say that. Kyo isn’t too bad, and Onee-chan really loves him!” 

Hiro snorted derisively. “Tohru loves everyone. She can find someone here.” 

Kisa looked up at Machi with a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. “Hiro misses her too, he just won’t admit it.” 

“I don’t!” Hiro protested, but Kisa waved him off. 

“Do you go to school with Yuki?” Kisa asked. 

“I did,” Machi said. “I’m in my third year at Kaibara, but he and I were on the Student Council together last year.” 

“Oh! So you know Momiji and Haru?” 

“Yeah.” Momiji had transferred out this year, but they had been acquainted. Alternatively, she couldn’t get rid of Hatsuharu Sohma, who asked for “Yuki Updates” almost every day before class.

Machi had never been great at small talk, but her curt nature didn’t seem to faze Kisa. “I never get to see Momiji anymore, since he moved out of the compound. But I get to see Haru and Rin a lot!” 

They rounded the corner to Machi’s apartment, Kisa still rambling about people Machi didn’t know. Kisa stopped talking abruptly and began waving to someone in the distance. Machi glanced up to see Yuki standing outside her building, typing on his phone. 

“Yuki!” Kisa called. He looked up, noticed the three of them together, and waved, confusion visible on his face, even at this distance. 

They approached and Yuki reached out to kiss Machi’s cheek in greeting. Her face flushed, but the kids didn’t seem to notice. “Hey,” he said to her. “I see you met these two?” 

“A guy was harassing her, so we stepped in,” Hiro said coolly, arms folded across his chest. 

“He headbutted the guy,” Machi deadpanned. Yuki let out a surprised bark of laughter, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Yuki said, taking Machi’s hand. “Are you okay?” 

Machi nodded. “They insisted on making sure I got home safe.” 

Yuki smiled at his cousins. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “That was very kind of you, Kisa.” 

“Hey!” Hiro protested, but he was ignored as Yuki patted Kisa’s head. She smiled up at him, eyes darting to Machi. 

“I like your girlfriend,” Kisa told him. “Hold onto her, please.” 

Yuki laughed, and the sound warmed Machi’s heart. “I plan on it. As long as she’ll have me.” 

“Gross,” Hiro muttered. Machi turned to him, and bopped him lightly on the head with her fist. “Hey!” He shouted.

“Thanks,” she said. “For walking me home. And headbutting that guy.” 

Hiro’s cheeks turned pink and he shrugged dismissively. “Whatever. Guy deserved it.” 

“Can you two get home safely?” Yuki asked, grip tightening on Machi’s hand. They hadn’t seen each other properly in weeks, and she could tell he was antsy to get her alone. She bit back a smile. 

“Of course we can,” Hiro snapped. Kisa smiled at Yuki sweetly. 

“Yes,” she said. “Come visit us soon, okay? Haru misses you.” 

Yuki nodded. “Will do.”

Kisa waved to both of them as Hiro took her hand and started pulling her back down the street. As soon as they were out of sight, Yuki pressed a proper kiss to her mouth. Machi melted against him, the whirlwind of the past hour finally over. “Are all of your relatives weird? Are you the normal one in your family?” 

Yuki laughed against her lips, knocking their foreheads together. “You ask me that when Kakeru is your brother.” 

“That Hiro kid headbutted a guy twice his size in the gut,” Machi said. “And that’s pretty normal after meeting Momiji and Ayame.” 

“Have I introduced you to Kagura yet?” Yuki asked with a shit-eating grin. 

“Your family is weird ,” Machi said, pulling her boyfriend towards the entrance of her building.

Yuki let himself be pulled inside. “I’m very aware.” 

“Nice, though,” Machi admitted, cheeks growing warm as they climbed up to the second floor. “Your family’s pretty nice. The ones I’ve met.” 

The unspoken truth of Yuki’s parents hung between them, but it didn’t dampen the mood, They’d bared themselves to each other before, whispering the untold abuses of their parents where no one else could hear. Machi knew Yuki didn’t go to the family compound to visit because those who hurt him were still there. Yuki knew Machi would only meet with her father in public, where he couldn’t raise a hand against her. 

Yuki smiled at her. “They seemed to like you, Kisa and Hiro. Oh, speaking of, Ayame was asking about you yesterday…” 

Machi unlocked her door and pulled Yuki in behind her, still chattering about his brother and her brother and silly schemes they were brewing. She smiled at him, and felt her heart expand to let her new family grow just a little more. 

[misssunflowersandsangria]

This is my Idea

Chapter 2:  Marriage 

Hello, deers!  Welcome back.  Happy @shikatemaweek Day 2!  Wow, can I just say how many talented and supportive people there are in this community!!  Gold Stars everyone!  Thank you for all your time and efforts!

Here’s the next chapter for my story.  There’s a time jump from the first one.  You can have a cute montage in your head about them spending the last few Summers together.  Mama Nara makes an appearance (that’s always fun)  This is where the fun, fluffy stuff really begins. :D 

Prompt:  Marriage

Ages:

Shika:  17

Tem:  19

Summary:   It’s time for a wedding!

*

**

Temari stared at her reflection in the mirror for a final glance over. This was now the fifth Summer that she’d spent in Konoha. It was her first visit there without her father. The last few years they made the journey there together then he would return to Suna before her.  She was hesitant to be alone at first but she’d learned her role well and conducting her work independently suited her.  She enjoyed her work as the ambassador. It was important and she’d do everything that she could to ensure peace remained.

Temari grew to love her visits and the Village Hidden in the Leaves had become like a second home to her.  The small room that she kept while in the village was now filled with various knick-knacks and photos.  Snapshots of warm summer days with people she at one time would have never considered being friends with. Her favorite photo was one of her and Shikamaru during their very first year together in a frame by her bed.  They were so young back then. Pushed into a situation that they both hated. How times and relationships had changed. 

The person that greeted her at the gates this year wasn’t the same boy. She saw hints of that familiar smirk and lazy stance but he was all of 17 now. An important member of the village, a Jonin, and adviser to the Hokage.  His rank could have easily gotten him out of his assignment as her guide but she was thankful that for at least another year they had gone through the season together. A part of her hoped that he wanted to keep that role too. 

They had gotten into the habit of writing to one another.  They worked hard to stay in touch and knew about each other’s lives.  So that when she arrived each Summer it was like nothing had changed.  Their Summer together had been just like the rest. Days filled with work but with Shogi and cloud watching sprinkled in between.  Quick lunch breaks together when they could. Sunset walks and stargazing on warm nights. Late evenings that turned into early mornings when they were with their friends. It was all so familiar and wonderful that it passed in a blink of an eye and it was just about time for her to return to Suna. This year though his parents insisted that she attend the wedding of one of the Nara clansmen as Shikamaru’s date.  Despite their flustered expressions and protests Yoshino was relentless and waved off any of their complaints.  So here she was.  After hearing a knock on the door she looked at herself once more ready for where the night took them. 

Temari smiled seeing Shikamaru dressed up in a dark suit. His hair was down which was a tradition when one of their clansmen got married.  She secretly loved it when it was out of its usual style.  He looked much more mature and handsome than she was used to. It was a stark reminder that he’d grown up. 

“You clean up nicely Nara.”  She complimented him adjusting his tie. 

He tried to not make his stare obvious but it would be impossible to deny how stunning she looked.  Her hair was down which was an intentional move to match his own.  In all their Summers together he’d only seen it down a few times.  Each time left him a little off-centered.

“Thanks, Temari.  You uhm you look beautiful.”  She grinned at the soft blush but decided not to say anything.  She’d grown up as well and it would have been absurd for him to not notice. 

“Let’s go.”  He offered his arm excited for their night ahead.  

*

**

“Temari you look, gorgeous sweetheart.  Thank you for coming. It's such an honor for you to be here.”  Yoshino greeted her, gathering her into a tight hug. 

Temari held her for a moment before replying.  “I’m happy to be here. It’s been wonderful so far.”  The ceremony had been incredibly sweet and touching and she held onto Shikamaru's hand the entire time. 

“Good! If my son does anything you don’t approve of, come find me.”  She warned Shikamaru with a glare.   

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay kids, have fun.”  She waved off to go socialize with more of her friends. 

“It’s kind of a drag that my mom likes you more than me,”  Shikamaru whined, handing her a drink. 

“What can I say? We get each other.”

“Because you’re both nags.”  He mumbled.  

“That’s one.” 

“Fine, sorry. Apparently it’s a thing though Naras can only marry let’s say ‘determined’ partners. We’re geniuses but we wouldn’t get anything done without them.”

Temari grinned at the admission before taking a drink.  “We’ve spent a lot of time together. You may be super smart but left to your own devices you wouldn’t make it a week.” 

“You’re probably right.  Thanks again for coming Tem.  It means a lot.”

Temari looked out at the sea of people, the warmth and love present.  Life as a Shinobi could be so difficult so any chance they had to celebrate life should be taken. 

She knew that it was a bit unprecedented.  She wasn‘t part of the clan, not even the village, but she was welcomed with open arms.   With all the time she’d spent in the village over the years, the Naras were her second family.  Since the beginning, they recognized and embraced her as if she was one of their own. 

She rested her head on his shoulder a little overwhelmed by emotion.  “I appreciated the invite.”

*

**

“I don’t dance.”

“I know, but I do.  Come on.”  She dragged him to the dance floor not giving him a chance to complain. 

“Loosen up, you look so awkward.  Here.”  She placed his hands on her waist so that her hands could go around his neck. She felt his skin flush beneath her fingertips. They swayed slowly side to side. 

“It’s weird looking up at you.” 

He laughed remembering that moment when he had finally grown taller than her.  Teal eyes that now looked up towards him.  “Thank God for that growth spurt.”

“So do you think that you’ll ever get married and have an event like this?”

He sighed with a nod.  “It’s a drag but probably. I’ll be clan leader and all once my dad retires.”

That wouldn’t be too long from now. Eventually, he would have to give up his role as her guide, even now it wasn’t completely necessary for him to escort her around. “That’s true. I guess just uhm make sure you invite me to the wedding.”  She shrugged trying to keep a teasing tone in her voice. 

A warm hand came up to brush a soft lock of hair from her eyes.  “Of course.” 

The music changed to a more upbeat song and as she tried to pull away he wordlessly pulled her back in.  Keeping their same slow rhythm.   He wasn’t quite ready to let her go just yet. The look in her eyes told him the same. 

The silence between them felt heavy so he tried to break it. “Are you ready to go back to Suna next week?”

“Yes, I miss my family so it will be nice.”

“Did you have a good time this year Princess?”  He asked curiously.  

“I’d say so.”

She rested her head against him to avoid his gaze nuzzling into his chest.  He was so warm and she felt herself becoming drunk from his familiar smell of pine trees and smoke.  “ I’ll miss you okay.” 

He was surprised by the admission but nodded. Their goodbyes were becoming more difficult. 

“I’ll miss you too Tem. Hey, maybe I can go out to Suna for a few days?  You’re always telling me about places and things to do there. It could be fun.”  He knew that it probably wasn’t possible. He’d return to his regular missions once she was gone but it was nice to dream.  

She nodded knowing that it was just a nice thought.  “Sure, I’d like that.” 

They remained there swaying back and forth to the rhythm of their own hearts. 

*

**

Once they finally took a seat Yoshino quickly swept in demanding a dance with her son. Temari just laughed at his horrified expression and told him to enjoy it while she got a drink.  

“Temari looks incredible tonight doesn't she?”  Yoshino asked with a grin.  He knew that look all too well.  

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Come on now.  Your father and I have always thought that you two would make a fine couple.  Can you imagine, an actual Princess being part of our clan.  She is such a wonderful girl, she’d make an incredible matriarch.”

He rolled his eyes not the least bit surprised.  She’d been arguing the same point for years now.    “Mom, seriously, not this again.  I have to escort her around, it’s a mission I've been assigned to.  That’s it.”

Yoshino shook her head.  “Don’t give me that excuse.  We both know that the Hokage offered to assign another Shinobi for her detail and you shot it down.  It’s okay son.  I’m just saying that not everyone is lucky enough to find their soulmate.  You are very smart, wouldn’t it be foolish to let her go.”

He looked over to where she was talking and laughing with his other clansmen as though she’d always been a part of their family.  He knew that something between them had changed but neither of them was ready to face that new reality just yet.  Besides, she was leaving for Suna in just a few days.  Temari caught his eyes from across the room and smiled back at him forcing one to cross his lips.  Maybe by next summer, he’d have some clarity.  

*

**

This is my Idea

Chapter 1:  Trust

Chapter 2:  Marriage

*

**

Thanks for reading.  <3 you all and I’ll see you tomorrow! 

[writing-radionoises]

satisfaction

ship: minor shin soukoku / akuatsu

genre: hurt/comfort, redemption

prompt: akutagawa finally gets his redemption and joins the ada

notes: this is my little series right now, i just call it ada akutagawa and i mostly just wrote this because it’s what he deserves

also, aro/ace spectrum akutagawa

A hit from the left. A hit right from the right. "Rashomon, demonic armor!" The colors of Akutagawa's vision begin to blend together, muddling up, and he knows well his disgustingly weak lungs are giving in. It hurts. He's so weak, even to Atsushi's pathetic blows. He knows Atsushi is holding back, too, especially after all the god forsaken blabbering Akutagawa did. He's just so... tired. Akutagawa doesn't even register falling to his knees, Rashomon slinking away from it's armor form and instead choosing to curl around it's owner in a protective manner, as well as it could without hurting him further. Atsushi stands in front of him, barely a cut or scratch on him, but he looks tired, as well. His regenerative ability has gotten better. Akutagawa begins to cough into his hand, crimson red now staining the pretty white silk on his shirt. "Akutagawa," Atsushi starts, breath heavy as he speaks, "No... Ryunosuke. You don't even talk of the mafia fondly anymore. I'm not quite sure you ever have... You only talk about how much they hurt you, how much they hurt Dazai, and Kyouka, and all other sorts of people. Ryunosuke... Are you satisfied?" The phrase hits hard, like a punch to the chest, and it only makes Akutagawa wheeze more. He isn't. He's thought about leaving the mafia time after time, there's always something holding him back. It's always one fucking thing. He's planned it out and everything, Higuchi even said she'd help him leave, she'd leave with him, too. They even have everything packed back at the apartment. All the essentials. And yet... There's still one thing holding him back. "I... I hate it here. I hate it here so fucking much..." Ryunosuke starts, looking back up at Atsushi, "But... Gin..." "Don't think about Gin for once," He says, he's gotten down on his knees in front of Akutagawa, bringing them to the same level, "You've cared for her your entire life, you've been a stand in parent since the age of like... Four or five, it's really amazing, Ryunosuke," Atsushi says with a smile. "But-" "But, you never should have had to be that. And you don't need to be that anymore. You're like, twenty now, right?" Akutagawa nods. "She's sixteen. She can take care of herself and make her own decisions. The mafia has never once posed as a threat against her, and Gin is a strong woman. You raised her that way," Atsushi insists, "She can hold up against the mafia easily." Ryunosuke feels himself tear up, and he begins to rub at his eyes with his blood stained sleeve. He feels Rashomon curl around his tighter, like a hug, almost. "Wh, why are you telling me this?" Akutagawa replied, his voice is trembling. It's disgusting. "Ryunosuke..." Atsushi responds, he reaches out a hand and cups the left side of Ryunosuke's face, despite all the blood and tears, "Ryunosuke, leave the mafia. Please." "I... I don't have anywhere to go..." He answers. It's a lie. He has many places to go, but it'll be hard trying to reform his identity completely. It's be hard to completely erase Ryunosuke Akutagawa from his world, especially after everything that he's done. It would be easy if Akutagawa just killed himself. Atsushi's hand pulls away from his face, and instead reaches out to help Akutagawa up with a knowing smile. "Then come join the Armed Detective Agency, Ryunosuke." -- It's easier than Akutagawa ever anticipated. Though, it's mostly because of all the leg work Higuchi and Gin put into this. Gin was much more happy than Akutagawa thought, as well. She was happy Akutagawa was finding a path that wasn't about protecting her. Just a path to make him happy. ... But she decided to stay behind, like she did every time Ryunosuke offered to get her out of the mafia, too. The mafia is home to Gin. They didn't beat her and berate her most of her career, like they did to Ryunosuke. It's obvious why she'd feel that way. It only took a few days for Atsushi to secure a place in the agency for Akutagawa. From what he heard, Atsushi, Kyouka, and Dazai all vouched for him. "Fukuzawa is a kind man. He would never refuse you, or anybody in need," Atsushi had said. He was right. Within at least two weeks of Atsushi finally convincing Akutagawa to leave the mafia, Akutagawa had moved into the agency living quarters. He ended up moving in with Atsushi, with Kyouka having finally gotten a place of her own. It wasn't tough for Akutagawa to move in, he really didn't own all that much. Living in the mafia is tough, because everyday could be your death day. There was no point in owning a lot. ... What was hard was living without Gin for the first time in sixteen years. He called her every night, thought about her every second of the day. Sometimes, it was all her could think about. At least in the mafia, Akutagawa would know where she was. But now, he has no such privilege. Soon enough, the test for joining the agency came up. Of course, Akutagawa had no idea it was a test, like usual for agency members. The test must have took longer to develop, due to Akutagawa having already known just about everyone at the agency and mafia, he was hard to fool. They ended up pulling from the guild. A girl named Lucy, a former guild member, posed as a threat by holding Atsushi hostage, saying she wants to take revenge for what the agency did to the guild by blowing up the entire building, coffee shop and all. She gave Akutagawa the choice of saving Atsushi or join forces with her to blow up the whole building. Akutagawa managed to get Atsushi out of the hostage situation, putting his own life at risk instead while Kyouka "disarmed" the bomb. In the end, Akutagawa passed the test and joined the agency officially. -- "You should get rid of that coat, you know," Dazai said. Most of the agency members where in the coffee shop on break. Akutagawa had ordered a tea while Dazai sipped at an energy drink. "I don't think you're in the position to really say that," Akutagawa protested calmly, "It means a lot to me." "It was mine," Dazai replied, "Do you really want to keep those memories?" Akutagawa paused, setting down his cup of tea. Dazai was right in a way, the coat carried so many memories of the abuse he endured, and even before that, it carries the memories of the abuse Dazai endured. ... It was gifted to Akutagawa because Dazai often ended up lending it to him after Dazai hurt him. Akutagawa got injured and suffered so much at Dazai's hand that the coat was already practically his before Dazai officially gave it to him. There are so many blood stains on this coat, so much blood on innocent people on it. It has at least three generations of child abuse in the mafia on it. Akutagawa felt his hands begin to shake as he quickly picked up the cup of tea again, trying to mask his anxiety. "I don't want to think about that, Dazai-san. Don't remind me." Dazai dropped the subject. -- "Ryuu-san," Atsushi starts, "Are you okay?" He's sitting beside Akutagawa on their shared couch, sharing a pot of tea after a long day of work. Akutagawa had come to appreciate Atsushi's company, Atsushi had a way of making him feel comfortable and safe. ... He liked cuddling Atsushi, too, but that aside. "I think I made Dazai-san uncomfortable today. We were talking about the coat I wear, it used to be his..." Akutagawa replied, "I think I only remind him of his past, of his time at the Port Mafia... I don't think he wants me here at all, I've only complicated his life..." Atsushi sets down his cup as he pulled Akutagawa in for a hug. Atsushi smells of vanilla and early gray tea, hints of lavender from the laundry detergent he uses. His hair is soft, and the pressure of his hugs always manage to calm Akutagawa down. ... He's just so nice, it's not fair. "Ryuu, he wanted you to be here, remember? He vouched for you to be at the agency," Atsushi reminded him softly, and Akutagawa can feel Atsushi start to run his fingers through his hair, "I think he just wants you to be happy and safe, Ryuu. He's just not too great at conveying it. Don't think too much of it, okay?" Akutagawa nods slowly, burying his face in Atsushi's shoulder. Dazai-san can hate him all he wants, Akutagawa could care less, as long as he had Atsushi. As long as Atsushi is here, the whole world could end and Ryunosuke wouldn't bat an eye. Atsushi is just that special. -- "How do you tell if you like someone?" Ryunosuke asked. He was over at Higuchi's new apartment, helping her make dinner. Gin was coming over later today, they were going to have a little family dinner as a celebration of Higuchi getting her new job. She landed a job as a manager at a bridal shop, and she's never been happier. Akutagawa is just happy to see her finally get the happy ending she's been working so hard for. "Like, romantically?" Higuchi asks, looking over to Akutagawa as she fries up some vegetables. "Yes," Akutagawa responds, "I'm having complicated feelings on someone, and I've just now realized that... I've never really had a crush on someone." "Ah, you're on the aroace spectrum, right?" Higuchi asked, to which Akutagawa nodded, "Well, crushes are weird. It's hard to explain romantic attraction. I guess you can start with questions, do you want to pend the rest of your life with this person?" Ryunosuke thought for a moment before nodding, "I think it'd be nice if I did..." "Do you have any sexual attraction towards that person? Not that that really matters, but it's good to consider." Akutagawa continues chopping vegetables as he thinks, then nodding a no, "I don't think so. Though I wouldn't mind having sex with him, if that's what he wanted." "That's pretty new for you," Higuchi replied, snatching the cutting board Akutagawa was using and dumping the rest of the sliced vegetables into her pan, "I mean, it sounds like a romantic crush, but I'm not great at romance, so take my words with a grain of salt." Akutagawa smiled a bit, "Thanks, Ichiyo." The blonde chuckles a bit, "Of course, Ryunosuke." -- After leaving a sealed envelope on Atsushi's desk, Ryunosuke went downstairs to join the rest of the agency for a celebratory lunch. Kyouka stayed upstairs with him, too, saying she'd cover for him to make it less obvious that Ryunosuke left the letter. He sat down beside Atsushi, who had apparently already ordered him his favorite tea, and was now chatting with Dazai. "Hey, you got rid of the coat!" Dazai comments, looking over to Akutagawa. Today is the first time in years that Akutagawa went without wearing the coat. He nodded, "Yes, you made me realize something a couple weeks ago. I decided to toss it today, and I'll get a new one at some point." Dazai smiles, "You've come a long way, kiddo." Akutagawa rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that." Kyouka comes down the stairs, brushing off her skirt as she promptly gets on the table Atsushi, Dazai, and Akutagawa are sitting at, standing on it. Akutagawa snatches his cup from off the table to prevent it from spilling. "Everybody, I have an announcement," Kyouka says, as most of the agency looks up at her, "I adopted a rabbit, his name is Shigeo." The agency starts clapping at Kyouka looks down, then continuing, "Wait, that wasn't the announcement... I mean, correction. The real announcement is that Kunikida and Dazai's wedding date has officially been confirmed, and it'll happen within a couple weeks. Kunikida is placing invitations now." Everyone in the coffee shop begins to clap and cheer this time as Kyouka smiles, sitting back down on the table. "You didn't tell me you were engaged!" Atsushi said, looking back at Dazai. "Ah, you had more important things to hear, didn't want to overwhelm you with that," Dazai explained, "But it seems everything solved itself, hm? So, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be the best man?" Atsushi smiles and nods, "I'd love to!" Akutagawa is barely paying attention to their conversation, finding himself looking at Atsushi with a slight smile. "Hey," Kyouka says, nudging Akutagawa with her foot, "Maybe you'll be the one getting married next year." Akutagawa blushed, hiding his face in his hands, "Don't say such foolish things." "I mean it, though," she said, "You make him happy, Akutagawa. You've come such a long way, everyone at the agency is proud of you." Akutagawa lifts his head up, looking back at Kyouka before looking at everyone in the agency, having a fun time, laughing, smiling. ... It feels nice to be part of something like this. "I think... I am finally satisfied."

[seriouslyhooked]

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 25)

25 part AU written for @cssns​. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy​!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hello everyone! So as promised, I have left the drama and the angst behind us and for this chapter. Instead of lingering in anxiety, I am just giving us all some much-deserved wedding cuteness and (because so many of you asked) a little wedding night smut. This has been the longest story I have ever written, and WOW does it feel like time to write a wedding. As such, I will delay no longer. Hope you enjoy, and thanks so much for reading!

All this time I kept saying the details didn’t matter, but now I know they really do.

Emma didn’t utter those words aloud, but she held them close with her as she went about getting ready for this long-awaited moment. The thought had been floating in and out of her mind all day, like when she woke to her favorite childhood breakfast of cereal and pop-tarts, or when she first got a look at her bouquet. The arrangement of flowers was immaculate and lush, with ivory petals and little pops of color thrown in, and it matched the tasteful flowers she was wearing in her hair, and the ones her bridesmaids donned for the ceremony and reception. Everything was so in sync, woven together with ease and with grace, but none of it was accidental. This was all a reflection of the hard work of people who loved her, and reminiscent of dreams she never realized that she had.

Looking at her hands, Emma noted her engagement ring, a glimmering stone gifted with love and fidelity. Killian had asked her for forever in a way he hadn’t planned, but it was perfect, and the only thing missing was a wedding band to complete the set. Today that second ring would come, and Emma would keep them close and safe as long as she lived. Other unexpected gifts had been coming in all day too, starting in the morning and leading up to now. Little things and big things, thoughtful notes and precious keepsakes. All of it was wrapped in love, and every time one found its way to her, Emma craved their wedding more. It was so damn hard waiting, but she grounded herself in how lucky she was to have this. After all, she’d gotten her most powerful wish - laughter, love, excitement, and joy. These were the ingredients of her wedding day so far, and Emma knew they would be the same pieces that defined her life from now until forever.

“Okay, honey, it’s time to get your dress on. Are you sure you don’t need help?” her mother asked, pulling Emma from her reverie as she gazed into the mirror. Emma shook her head and stood up, careful to keep her robe closed as she did.

“I’ve got it, Mom. It’ll only take a minute.”

Retrieving her dress from her mother’s arms, Emma moved behind the screen to get dressed, trying to soak up this moment despite how breakneck the pace of her day had been. It had been nonstop since the morning, when Emma woke up in her old bed in the apartment above the clinic. She hadn’t slept so well, being unused to a night without Killian, but she’d had company. Anna and Elsa were adamant that they would all spend this night together, three sisters having a final hurrah. They’d invited Ruby too, an honorary member of their special little tribe, and her final ‘night of freedom’ was spent watching cheesy rom coms, eating way more than they should have, and drinking more than a little wine. At first her mother resisted on the idea, insisting that a bride-to-be needed her beauty sleep, but, as was their custom, Elsa and Anna found a way to win her over. Emma was glad for it too, because despite missing Killian, she’d had a blast, and that good humor had carried all through today as the lot of them got pampered and prepared.

Even now, as she slipped into her dress, Emma couldn’t help her smile. There was no mirror back here, but she knew how good she looked. Her hair was glossy and shone brighter than it ever did when she did it on her own. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her natural features with a little bit of pop. Add to that that she was radiating happiness and she knew she was beautiful, but that wasn’t enough for her. Underneath her robe she’d chosen a white lace set designed to drive her husband more than a little wild, as if he needed any reason to get that way. The barely there lingerie left little to the imagination, and she warmed through just imagining how Killian would react. It was thrilling to think about, but that desire was tamped down slightly by her awe at the dress itself. An incredible gift from her mother, this dress had been passed down from her grandmother originally. Each wedding it had seen saw some alterations, but never enough to undermine the beauty of the gown. As such, the garment was in wonderful shape, and Emma’s smile grew when she thought about one day sharing this treasured dress with her daughter too.

As she’d promised, dressing didn’t take long at all and soon enough she moved from behind the partition into full view again. She saw everyone looking at her, but was drawn to her own reflection. Stunning was the only word that she could think of, and even that choice reminded her of Killian, but it was right. It was truly a lose-your-breath moment seeing herself like this, and all the emotion at this impending union bubbled to the surface as it suddenly became all the more real.

“My cousin is seriously going to lose it when he sees you, Emma,” Ruby said with a tone of glee.

Emma looked over to Ruby, who appeared thrilled at Killian’s potential reaction, and Emma, though quieter in her hope, was dreaming of the same. She knew the figure that she made for in this dress. It might be an heirloom, but it was tailored in a way that was uniquely her. The dress was a delicate cream color with a perfect blend of silk and lace. It was still classic, but also current, and though it had been made for another, it felt designed with only Emma in mind. It fit every curve of her body, accentuating her shape while still feeling very free, and that was compounded by the fact that she’d ditched the veil and gone for flowers in her golden curls instead. Looking back at herself she felt beautiful and whole, though much of that had more to do with who she was marrying and less to do with what she was wearing.

“You’re gorgeous, Ems,” Anna agreed, tending to the dress and making sure every last detail was in place. “A true princess.”

“No, better than a princess,” Elsa countered, smiling at Emma in the mirror as she hugged her from the side. “Better because you’re you.”

“You guys need to stop,” Emma said, but there was no real bite in her voice. “You’re going to make me cry and I am not crying today.”

“Oh, Emma, I think that ship has sailed, don’t you?” Elsa asked, gesturing behind them, and the four of them looked back to where Emma’s mother and grandmother were both wiping away their happy tears.

“It’s just like I always imagined,” her mother said, the weepiness seeping through her voice and threatening to make Emma cry as well. “You’re so beautiful, Emma.”

“Mom,” Emma said, and as her mother came over to her, her friends made space for them to share this special moment.

“I know you’ll say that I’m too sappy, but I can’t help it Emma. You are my baby,” she said, her hand coming to Emma’s cheek as she smiled at her. “Your father is my heart, but you and your brother are my whole entire soul. I love you so much. I’ve loved you your whole life and even before, and it’s like I blinked and we were here. All those years are gone so quick. You’re so grown up and I’m just…” her voice cut off as she cried a bit, but she rallied. “I’m so proud to be your Mom and I’m so lucky to have a daughter whose so brilliant and so sure. You are amazing, Emma. My brave and beautiful little girl.”

“I love you, Mom,” Emma whispered, unable to say more, but knowing her mother understood her. She felt the same luck and joy at having her mother and her father. They were incredible and loving, supportive in every way, and a constant reminder of what it meant to be good and what it meant to choose love no matter what life may through their way. She pulled her mother close, hugging her tightly and enjoying this special moment that would only come once.

“I hate to break this up,” her grandmother said, drawing them back into the fray once more. “But if it has to be broken, I can think of no better reason.”

“What she means to say is we’ve got to get moving. If we even think about being late, Killian will find us and drag you away, and then we’ll have planned all of this for nothing,” Ruby exclaimed, grabbing her bouquet and heading towards the door.

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” Elsa teased following suit with Anna close behind, but Emma flushed, thinking it might not be the worst thing to be swept away by her mate. Still, she wanted this moment, to be married in front of all their friends and family. It was something they’d worked so hard for, and she knew down to her core that it was going to all work out in the most wonderful way.

In the few weeks since coming home from their fight against George, Emma began to taste the dreams that she’d most wanted. A dose of normal and calm, stability and contentment, that was what she’d wanted, and since coming home she felt that. The doom and gloom of before felt largely lifted. She was centered and in love, grateful for all that she had, and full of faith that the things still yet to be rectified would be won out in the end. Gold was still out there, but for now they were safe, and while Emma and Killian had been focusing on themselves and on this wedding, her friends had begun to take over the hunt for their final foe. Emma trusted Elsa and Anna and Ruby to do everything they could, and that trust allowed her to feel free again, free from the weight of the whole world, and free from the worry that all the goodness in her life might someday disappear. Right now she was grounded in belief that their darkest times were past them, and on this picture perfect day, she had no space for demons. There was just her and Killian and the people they loved most, celebrating the love that they had found, and taking one last step together towards being man and wife.

In a flurry of excitement her friends and her Mom and Grandma helped her down the stairs, and as they descended Emma felt the pitter-pattering of her heart begin. A million little butterflies took flight inside of her and it was like all of her firsts with Killian wrapped into one. She remembered the first time she saw him, the first date they went on, the first night they’d made love. Her nerves were frayed from the rush of it all, but she wasn’t nervous, just impatient. She wanted to get to this moment so badly, but she reminded herself to be present. This was a once in a lifetime thing. She’d never do this again, never make these special memories, so she had to feel it all and witness it, for all its depth and beauty.

When she finally made it downstairs, and everyone was convinced that she was totally ready without a hair out of place, they began to move outside. One by one her friends marched forward towards the day, the warmth of the summer evening moving in, while a coastal breeze swept through, keeping things comfortable and cool. By the time Emma got outside, she was eager to get going, and then she saw her father, diligently waiting for her outside, prepared to escort her down the aisle.

“Honey, you look…” her Dad trailed off, his words caught in his throat and she saw the tears misting in his eyes. Oh crap, if her mother had threatened tears for Emma, then her father was the final blow. She couldn’t hold back when he looked at her like this, like being her Dad was the most important thing to him. “You look perfect.”

“Thank you, Dad,” she replied, taking his extended arm and leaning into him. “Any final words you want to hit me with? I’m not going to lie, I half expected you to have the car packed and a bug out plan in place.”

She teased him, needing a lightness in this moment, and she was rewarded with her father’s warm chuckle of amusement. It wasn’t so off base to think that her Dad might do that. He’d threatened as much her whole life, and always told her that no one would be good enough for his little girl. But despite those once held feelings, Emma knew the respect that her father had for Killian. They shared an understanding between them, and whatever her Dad might think of Killian’s worth, he trusted him beyond the shadow of a doubt to love Emma and protect her. Her father saw Killian for what he was – her fated mate and perfect partner, a man who would build her up and keep her grounded. He would make her strong and stand beside her, and he would do so with honesty and integrity and grace. And at the end of the day, what more could any parent ask for when it came to any of their children?

“Trust me I thought about it,” he quipped and Emma raised a brow, playing along with his joke. “But then I reminded myself that as much as that man loves you, you love him just the same. You’d never choose a life without him. Besides, he makes you happy, and you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“I love you, Dad,” she whispered, kissing his cheek before wiping away a rogue tear that somehow slipped past her defenses.

“And I love you, Emma. Now let’s get going before I change my mind and hightail it out of here.”

Emma smiled at the last of the jokes, and realized it was their queue to head down the aisle. They had a hedgerow blocking them from view to come around first, and Emma felt her breathing even out. Things felt like they slowed down, and her actions kept in line with the beat of the music playing her way to her future. She and her Dad moved in time together, taking one step and then another and another closer to Killian. Finally, when they cleared the greenery and he came into view, Emma almost stopped moving, struck by how handsome he looked and the look of love in his eyes. He never hid his feelings for her, no matter what their situation, but seeing that uncut adoration filled her with sunshine and bliss. Happy was the word her father used, but this was so much more than that. There was no way to express it except to say she felt complete. Everything was clicking into place, and as the space between them closed, and her father handed her off to Killian, kissing her cheek before leaving her there at the altar, the rest of the world faded away. It was just her and Killian, coming together to pledge their hearts for now and always.

“You’re everything, Emma,” Killian whispered to her, and she smiled, feeling how the opening of her heart opened her mind to him too. The feelings he had and the things that he thought about her were warm and good and true, and she felt the same. It overcame them both as they looked at each other in front of all their friends and family. In fact, she was so caught up in him she missed the part of the ceremony where they were supposed to say their vows. Luckily Killian did the same, and when the officiant cleared his throat, everyone laughed, including Emma and Killian.

“Right. Well I know we said short and sweet, love, but I hope you’ll forgive me for making a few changes.”

“Oh here we go,” a voice that sounded like Liam’s said from the audience, and then just after there was a whooshing sound let loose, like whoever had spoken got a swift jab to the gut. Emma laughed, but didn’t need to look to know Elsa was managing things. Then Killian stepped closer, breaking the tradition of holding both hands so one came up to cup her cheek as they stood flush against each other. Everything fell away again, and all that remained was this man and his beautiful words.

“I, Killian Jones, take you, Emma Nolan, to be my wife and mate forever. To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for now and for always. I pledge to honor and adore you, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in good times and in bad.  My love for you will never waiver, it will grow stronger every day. I vow to protect you, to fight for you, to never leave your side. I vow to choose you and only you for every day that I live and every day thereafter. All I have is yours, my heart, my soul, and all the rest. You have me, Emma, all of me, and you will have me forever.”

Hearing those words wash over her, Emma had never known such bliss. The feeling of rightness that came with his love was effervescent and she knew in her heart that these words were such a small glimpse into his love for her. He could go on forever about he felt, but this was perfect. So perfect, in fact that she reiterated as much of it as she could.

“I, Emma Nolan, take you, Killian Jones, to be my husband and mate forever. To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for now and for always. I pledge to honor and adore you, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in good times and in bad. My love for you will never waiver, it will never break, it will never fade. I vow to protect your heart, to fight for our happiness, and to never leave you. I promise to choose you and only you for this life and every other. All that I am will love you eternally, for all that you are and so much more, and all that I want is to be with you forever. You have me now and you have me forever.”

Again their shared intimacy meant they missed their final queue, or rather that they jumped the gun so to speak, for the moment the words were out of her mouth, Killian closed the space between them, sealing their love with a glorious kiss. In the background she heard the officient finalize their promises, proclaiming them man and wife, and the cheering of her family and friends, but even when they pulled back, she only had eyes for Killian, the love of her life, her fated mate, and now her handsome husband.

………..

Everything it took to get here was completely worth it.

Swaying with his wife as one of her favorite songs crooned all around them, Killian truly understood why weddings meant so much to people. Despite his original instincts that mating was enough, he knew that this was a remarkable moment. This day was a gift for which he’d be forever grateful, and as long as he lived he would carry the memories of his beautiful Emma tying herself to him in one final way.

All day it had been hard to catch his breath. It started by being away from his bride. To say he hated separation would be an understatement, but he wanted to honor Emma’s wishes and the wishes of her mother. He told himself hundreds of times that this would be the last time they’d ever need a night like this, but it didn’t do much good. His sleep was troubled and his eagerness for time to pass was undeniable. It felt like a very long wait to get to the ceremony, but once they were there time sped to an almost alarming degree. Seeing Emma as a vision in white, watching her walk towards him, making their vows to each other – he memorized every moment was shocked at how quickly it all came and went. Now they’d celebrated properly, with dinner and drinking and merriment, and after hours on the dance floor, the night was winding down and it was nearly time to bring his mate home.

“Part of me never wants this to end,” Emma admitted, her words laced with a happiness that was infectious and sublime. She looked up at him, her jade eyes glittering in the light, her smile making her all the more beautiful. She was gorgeous and surreal, and when he took the chance to dip her in the dance and she let loose a full-throated laugh she was even more amazing.

“And the other part?” he asked, genuinely curious as to her feelings.

“The other part wants us to get home so you can finally see what I’m wearing underneath this dress.”

And that was it – there was no pulling back now, and from the expression on Emma’s face she knew exactly what her words would do. All day he’d been strong, never breaking, despite his want to claim her. Okay, actually there was that one brief interlude in her bedroom upstairs… but that was over far too quickly and he’d stopped before they could really get carried away, knowing when he claimed her as his wife he’d need a very long time before they were ready to resurface. Now, however, he moved with swift assuredness, sweeping Emma up into his arms so she let out a squeak of surprise before laughing again. He looked to the others and thanked them all for coming, but told them all they were headed home.

“Are you going to carry me the whole way?” Emma teased and Killian thought about it for a minute, but realized it would probably be best for the sake of the humans in attendance if he reined himself in only slightly. Instead he put her in his brother’s car without so much as asking to borrow it, careful to see Emma was cared for while also trying to move as quickly as he could. He looked to Liam, but didn’t have to bother asking. His brother was two steps ahead of him and he threw his keys from across the lawn. Killian caught them, started the car, and they drove away to the sound of everyone wishing them well and saying goodbye.

“Wow was that really all it took to make you break?��� Emma asked giddily, thrilled at her ability to move him towards their wedding night like this. “I thought I’d have to do more to tempt you.”

She shifted in the chair and the slit that was part of her dress edged up her thigh. Killian groaned, driven by a need to get her home but a deep seeded yearning to pull the car over and have his way with her now. She was a bloody siren and she knew it, but all he could do right now was cover her hand with his, holding firm to keep her from tormenting him more.

“Some would call my show of control today heroic, love. Men have died from less.”

“Is that so?” Emma teased, but then it was his turn to flip the tables. He allowed their link to be more open between their minds and he let his fantasies run wild of what he’d do with her tonight. He spared a glance at her, knowing it could only last a second as he was driving, but the blush on her cheeks and the way she fidgeted in her seat spoke to her need. He could smell her arousal, practically taste it on his tongue, and only the thought that soon he’d taste it in the flesh kept him halfway sane. By the time they made it home he was ravenous, and now Emma was with him, clinging to him as he carried her inside and over the threshold for the first time as man and wife.

He didn’t stop moving until they made it upstairs, and only when they were fully inside their bedroom suite did Killian place her down so her feet would touch the floor. In the time it took to get up here, Emma had regrouped and the vixen in her came out to play. Her smile was almost wolfish as she teased him, slowly kicking off her heels as her hand came to her side to unzip the hidden fastener on her dress. Inch by glorious inch, Killian watched, as she bared herself to him, releasing herself from the tight fit of this blasted garment that drew him in all night. It fit her to perfection, making his mouth water even as his heart seized in his chest. On the outside she was pristine and classic – a constant allurement but classily encased. There was nothing too revealing, nothing too ostentatious, but because it was Emma it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Well at least until the moment she let the dress fall in a pool of satin and lace at her ankles. Then he saw what she had on underneath and he lost it, springing towards her like a wolf coming in for the kill.

“I take it that you like what you see,” Emma whispered, her words hoarse but confident, speaking to her lust and need.

“I’ve never loved anything as I love you, Emma,” he said, tracing her skin with his fingers, toying between gentle caresses and a more firm grasp in a way that made Emma’s breathing falter. “You’re gorgeous to me every moment of every day, but now… now you look good enough to eat.”

“This would be the perfect time to make a big bad wolf joke…” Emma said, but her words cut off with a cry of pleasure as his lips touched her neck and he nipped at her skin, maneuvering her back to the bed, knowing that soon there would be no words between them – only magic and desire.

“All right then, love, I’m waiting.”

He gave her the chance to make her fairytale reference as he stepped back, shedding his dress shirt and pants that he’d donned all day. Instead of forming words, however, his wife’s eyes stayed locked on his motions, and the almost feral hunger he felt at seeing her was replicated at her seeing him. He could almost feel her touch already, and it was excruciatingly delightful anticipating this coming together.

“Waiting?” she asked, clearly already forgetting what she’s said mere moments ago.

“You were saying something about me being a big bad wolf,” he growled out as he came above her on the bed, boxing her in. “And I assure you I can be all those things if you so choose.”

Killian’s smile ticked up at the way her heartbeat pounded and the instinct she had to grasp him close and not let go. In a moment like this more words escaped him, but instead of trying to find them, he ran his hands along her smooth, creamy, skin and savored the feel of her heat and the way her breathing slowed when he traced absent minded designs along her flesh.

“Yes, I want that,” she said, giving him the green light to have his wicked way with her tonight. His animal and he were thrilled at the prospect, but he had to make sure.

“It’s your call, Emma. Do you want me doting and gentle…?” She shook her head, before he could get the other option out.

“No, I want you with me, which is out of my mind with wanting you.”

Their lips crashed together then and both of them dueled for the best taste of each other. Killian felt her hand go down from his jaw, to his chest, across the slope of his abs to grip around his achingly hard cock, and the motion pulled a growl from deep within him. If that was how she wanted things, he would not disappoint. Still he stopped her progress, removing her hand, instantly missing it, but needing to take things in a different direction. Both parts of him demanded that – the man and the wolf.

“On your knees, love. Facing the headboard.” The flash of excitement and arousal that sparked in her made Killian growl low, but before she could follow his request he halted her motions. “Wait.”

“Wait?!” She cried out as his hand came to her sex and he felt the slick heat there beneath the barely there scrap of lace. His love was beyond need at this point, and from the simple, almost innocent contact she moaned, arching towards him, seeking any kind of release.

“Tell me you’re mine first, Emma. Mine now and always.”

“I’m yours,” she said immediately, clearly desperate to comply. “Now and always.”

“And you know I’m yours, just the same, don’t you, my love?”

She nodded as his fingers continued to tease her but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Finally he caved and ripped the lace straight off of her. Then he pulled her towards the edge of the bed, giving him better access to what he wanted most. Emma didn’t argue now, and as he kissed down her body, disposing of the last of the fabric on her skin, her eyes sparkled with white hot need. By the time he tasted her sex she was desperate, and the keening cry of her need only spurred him on. There was nothing slow in this. He was starved for her, wound up to distraction, and simultaneously calmed and crazed by the taste of her. He felt her shake and quiver as a climax claimed her, but it wasn’t enough. He took another, and then brought her damn near a third before relenting, maneuvering her to her hands and knees and reveling in the enthusiasm she showed at being taken this way.

He got her into position, knowing this way would be deeper and that, as with their mating night and more heated nights before, he could claim her in a manner that appeased the man and the beast within. When she was ready, his hand moved down her back and he took his place behind her. With deft hands, he positioned her and though he wanted nothing more than to take her, he couldn’t help but to tease her. His hands traced over her, purposefully hitting each point he knew would drive her crazy.

“Fuck, Killian!” She shifted slightly trying to urge him on and Killian nipped at the back of her shoulder.

“Keep your hands where they are love.”

She immediately returned them to their original place and Killian continued to pay attention to her breasts until her squirming against him signaled that she needed more. With one of his hands, he traced down her chest over the abdomen that in a few weeks time would be swollen with the presence of their child. A low grumble emanated from his chest at the thought of Emma carrying such a gift. He and his wolf loved that idea, and already knew there’d be many more children between he and his mate. Eventually he allowed his hand to go lower, finally ending up between her spread legs, and finding her dripping sex, even more needy for him. As soon as he made contact with her clit, Emma again moaned his name.

“Why are you torturing me?” She asked breathily.

“Torture?” He asked, and she nodded, but he knew that this was in some ways a lie. Yes she might be in a suspended kind of agony holding on, but the longer he waited the more she’d enjoy every bit of this. Time had shown him that before, and he intended to make use of that knowledge tonight. “I wouldn’t call this torture, my love. I’d call it destiny. I was made to claim you and you me. Every night, just like this, as long as we both shall live.

“God, yes. Killian, please.” Killian kissed at the juncture of her shoulder and neck as he thrust inside her and the impact made him bite down to keep from groaning. Emma made no such attempt, and the sound of her pleasure fueled him on. Their pace was rough and frenzied, both of them chasing a high, and when they found it, they luxuriated in the feel of it. Of course it was hardly enough, and through the night they came together more than once. Sometimes he led, something she did, but every time one truth remained – their love was eternal and would always endure.

Finally, after hours of energy and exertion, sleep came to claim them both, and when it did, they dreamed of each other, of their child, and of the life that lay in store for them. And though there were still a few questions that lingered, and some unknown spots along the horizon, they both fell asleep knowing something beyond the shadow of a doubt: no matter what happened and no matter what may come, they would always have each other and their family to fight for, to honor, and to love forever more.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This is the final chapter of Lost Souls and Reveries. However, I am so so thrilled to announce (or rather remind you all) that I have signed on to this years CSSNS and my story will actually be a sequel to this story where the gang takes on Gold! It will be told in many character’s POV (think Elsa, Anna, Ruby) BUT it will start with Emma and Killian and end with Emma and Killian AND I promise there is lots of CS thrown into the mix. We’ll get to see them and how they’re doing, and we’ll see them get closer to the birth of their daughter as well as eventual bonus epilogues about what happens when all is said and done. That’s coming out this summer, so keep an eye out if you’re interested. That being said, I am so grateful for each and every one of you who commented, reviewed, and reached out about this story. This has been a labor of love that has taken nearly two years to complete and it is the most out of my wheelhouse story I have ever written. This story challenged me and inspired me, even while it infuriated me and eluded me. My muse played so hot and cold, but the end result, I hope, is something that has made you smile and been something you enjoyed. The goal of all my stories is to spread happiness and fluff, and at a time like this, I think that’s exactly what our fandom could use more of. Anyway, thank you all so much again for your support. I love you all for cheering me on and telling me what you think. It always makes my day to know you like a story, and I truly cherish each kind word. Wishing you all health and happiness in these trying time! – Emily

Tag list: @jennjenn615, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @teamhook, @ultraluckycatnd, @resident-of-storybrooke, @artistic-writer, @snowbellewells, @snarkycaptainswan4, @allofdafandoms-blog

[mxrcayong]

spite - the avatar series (02.01)

overall masterlist | avatar series masterlist

prev | next

chapter one

Ever since two members of the now internationally renowned pro-bending team praised the coffee from “Iroh and Me”, business has been booming. It didn’t help that these two members, namely “The Osaka Prince” and “The Mouse”, are among the top pro-benders and are heartthrobs everywhere they go.

What once was a quiet café in the isolated part of downtown Sooman was now a booming social space, with the owners even being pressured into expanding their small café into a chain restaurant.

Thursday afternoons were always the busiest. People wanted that extra boost of coffee or bubble tea to push them through the week, most likely trying to complete their work by the end of Friday so they could finally be free. Despite the fact that only an hour ago they had a line down their block, Tari glided around the café effortlessly with a rag in her apron pocket and her tray with dirty dishes in hand.

“Someone’s chirpier than normal today,” Hendery commented as Tari slid back behind the counter, where Hendery placed the last customer’s drink in the line on the counter. “You don’t normally hum.” His eyebrow raised inquisitively, “Does this mean it’s easier for me to convince you to let me go home early tonight?”  

The new manager of the café rolled her eyes, chuckling. “Quite the opposite actually. Do you think you can close tonight?” She unconsciously grinned as she thought of the reason she’d be going home early.

Hendery jokingly groaned, dramatically throwing his arms on the bar counter and slamming his head onto his arms. “I don’t know if I like you being corrupt with power.”

Her eyes widened before she playfully pushed him, just strong enough for him to fumble over his own feet. “You say that as if I haven’t let you go home early normally!”

As dramatically as he can, he let out a scoff and rested the back of his hand on his forehead. “It’s never enough for you!” Tari smiled, feeling grateful to have Hendery work with her. “What’s tonight then? You never go home early these days.” He practically sang, jumping onto the stool they have behind the bar counter as they waited for tables to bust.

“Do you remember Sonan and Kilari?” Tari inquired, although she is certain that over the four-year period of working together, Hendery met them. He nodded, also keeping in mind the fact Tari mentioned they moved out of Sooman. “Well, Kilari is finally a fully-pledged Fire Sage and Sonan is visiting to celebrate.” Not completely the truth, Tari thought, but it’ll do – it’s not lying.

It really isn’t a lie. For one, Kilari’s last six months in becoming a Fire Sage required her to ‘disconnect from her world’. She quite literally hasn’t spoken to anyone else but her fellow pledges for the last six months. Unfortunately, six months ago happened to be the anniversary of Amon’s incarceration. They all planned to meet up, but unfortunately – Yuta and Jisung had a qualifying competition and Kilari had to start her ‘disconnection’. Therefore, Sonan didn’t come to visit and it was just Doyoung, Johnny, and Tari.

Now, that Kilari is finally done with her disconnection and the boys have a break before the world cup – Sonan is coming back.  It was such a big occasion that Johnny even decided to leave his journalism retreat early. Therefore, tonight was a celebration of not only Kilari’s success but a delayed-one-year-reunion for saving the world. Not to mention, it was also Tari’s one year anniversary with her boyfriend.

Basically, tonight was going to be a big night.

“So big night, huh?” Hendery seemed to read her mind, making Tari chuckle and nod. A ding of the door signified someone has left their table. Tari, almost unconsciously, was quick to stride over and clean the table like clockwork. “And I wasn’t invited?” Hendery scoffed in fake offense, just loud enough for Tari to hear but not loud enough for people to complain.

Tari’s coworker, however, noticed how the one person in the corner seemed to be interested in Tari’s plans – their movement slowing down at the mention of Tari going out. Her co-worker, yes, is a part time model – but he isn’t just a pretty face. He has noticed the same person wearing the same get-up, taking the same seat in the back corner, and just barely getting enough food or drinks to avoid being considered a loiterer.

“Dude, I literally invite you to everything!” She exclaimed, laughing as she returned to the counter with her tray of a plate and coffee cup. “It’s like a reunion as Kilari had a goodbye party with us last year too.” She excused, telling a partial truth again.

Another two tables disrupted the conversation, the customers leaving the café with a distant ‘thank you’ being shouted at them. As if choregraphed, Tari maneuvered her way around the counter to start collecting the dirty dishes, Hendery hot on her tails.

Hendery, however, continued to notice how the person in the corner’s attention seemed to always snap back at Tari. He’d think it’s just another customer attracted to Tari, but it was too…common. Her co-worker made a mental note to ask the bosses for security footage of that side of the café to see how many days this customer has been watching Tari.

He furrowed his eyebrows, approaching Tari to whisper to her. “I think they have been here all day. Can we kick them out for loitering?” He wasn’t sure if Tari was aware of how often the same person shows up, or how attentive this customer was to her, but he didn’t want to cause alarm.

Tari sighed; her heart beat slowly increasing. Since she noticed them two months back, she’s been feeling like there’s been eyes burning holes in the back of her head. For this reason, she’s been asking Doyoung to pick her up from work – which wasn’t particularly out of his way. It’s actually the reason Tari stays behind for closing as Doyoung’s work ends later than usual. She only voiced her specific concerns to Doyoung (rather than her normal excuse of not wanting to be lonely), when he practically forced her to tell him during their movie night.

“Not allowed.” She sighed, remembering company policy. The person was a customer – they had a drink in front of them and Tari can attest to taking their order. “It’s fine. But yeah, is it okay if I leave in an hour?” She swapped the conversation back to something lighthearted.

“Of course.” He grinned, trying to suppress the bad feeling in his gut as he started trying to embrace Tari – a dirty rag in his hand. “Anything for my favorite manager.”

Tari pushed him away, trying to avoid getting dirtied from his rag as she squealed; “I’m your only manager.”

“Exactly!” Tari scoffed at Hendery’s response.

Tari’s concerns about her stalker didn’t subside even when Doyoung picked her up from the café. It didn’t subside as she gave him his usual coffee and the two left. Because in the corner of her eye, she could sense movement from the same person who has yet to leave their seat other to order.

But she felt safe. She was with Doyoung, who quite literally has been with her through the worst of times. “Do you think we can take a lot of turns?” Tari whispered, despite the impossibility of the person seemingly following them hearing them.

Doyoung smiled slightly, “Already one step ahead of you.”

Moments like these remind Tari of how much, despite teasing him all the time, she appreciates Doyoung. It was always like this, ever since she moved to Sooman and met Doyoung. The two of them against the city, not caring about the weird stares they get and protecting each other.

The way to the train station from the café involved some twist and turns anyway, but Doyoung made the way to the train station a maze. Tari wasn’t even sure if she could track the path the two of them took. Although she was insanely confused about where she was – especially as Doyoung distracted her with conversation, but she was filled with relief when she turned around and saw the unidentified figure was gone. Despite being completely unsure of where she was, she knew she was with Doyoung and that’s all that mattered.

Eventually, the train station came to sight. The statue of Fire Lord Zuko wearing his armor marking the transportation hub. It wasn’t among Tari’s favorite places – always too crowded and bustling with life, but she saw how gorgeous it was. Central City Station had humongous arches and intricate details inside. No matter how crowded it was, the high glass ceilings made the building felt spacious.

“I can’t believe we’ll all be in the same place again.” Tari breathed out, excited but noticeably anxious. In her eyes, this was the one family who she has never left behind and who (although are across the world) never left her. She was anxious about any potential awkwardness it may be to have everyone in the same room after so long, having to catch them up on life and hoping everyone still merged well together. Oh shit, she realized, I don’t think Sonan knows about me and –

Doyoung threw his arm over Tari’s shoulder, sensing her anxiety. “We can always host this on the weekend. Sonan will be leaving Tuesday anyways, after Yuta and Jisung’s finals.” Tari shook her head insistently, pushing herself to face her anxieties and not accept the tempting offer. “We can always just let you celebrate your anniversary properly toda-“

“No, it’s rude for us to cancel so last minute.” Tari insisted, although she had to force the words out. “Plus, I just really want to see everyone.”

The air bender then quickly abandoned his serious tone and started enthusing about the event himself. “You know, I can’t promise Johnny and Yuta won’t eat all the pizza.”

“I think Jisung will scarf it down before you even notice the pizza was there.” Doyoung raised his eyebrows, as if doubting Tari. “Don’t forget how tall he’s gotten!”

“Wait, whose taller?” Doyoung asked as the two stopped in front of the arrivals board, waiting for Johnny’s train. “Johnny or Jisung?”

A voice from the side startled them. “Definitely me.” Johnny’s cheeky grin hasn’t been seen by the two of them in a week, but for Tari – it felt like months. She stood frozen, grinning like she was a starstruck fan, as she stared at Johnny. He was wearing one of the outfits he knew Tari loved on him – something he normally would wear when he has to look formal but not too formal. He rolled his eyes and dropped his duffle on the ground, the plop seeming to echo in the station.

This felt like a movie. It felt like the whole world around Johnny was in slow motion as he widened his arms. Doyoung had to push Tari to make her move towards Johnny.

However, one she started moving, she had to hold herself back from leaping into his arms. But Johnny refused to not spin her around and lift her – it’s all hes been wanting to do for the last week. He pulled her into a suffocating hug before lifting her above the ground, spinning her around. Her arms automatically wrapped around his neck, keeping her safe as he spun and she laughed – until he eventually placed her on the ground. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Johnny smiled sweetly before pressing his lips against hers.

As disgustingly cute as they may be, Doyoung knew that this wouldn’t have been different a year ago today – just less kissing. Overall, he was just happy to see his two friends so ecstatic and glowing.

“I’ve been waiting for that for the last week.” Johnny murmured against the kiss, “Especially because someone didn’t kiss me goodbye.”

Tari’s eyes widened in offense. “I did!”

Johnny quirked a single eyebrow, “Excuse me? The last words you said to me before I left was ‘Get on the train, you dumbass’.”

“You were going to be late!” She excused, stepping back from his embrace and letting Doyoung come closer without feeling too much like a third-wheel. Johnny playfully rolled his eyes before giving Doyoung a quick hug.

As soon as the pleasanties got out the way, Johnny laced his fingers with Tari’s and the three left the station. “How was your week without me? Boring? Lonely? Sad?”

“Like you never left.” Doyoung groaned. “Straight up, because of you two visiting last week, all of the gym trainers are asking me how to work out my calves.” Johnny burst out laughing and Tari felt her heart leap, despite having heard him laugh a million times. If she could hear anything for the rest of her life, she’d want it to be Johnny’s laugh.

“Your turkey calves?” Tari clarified, leaning into Johnny’s shoulder as she looked over at Doyoung on the other side of Johnny.

Her best friend scoffed in fake anger, “Listen, I need to salvage as much dignity in that place as I can. You two completely ruined my reputation.” Tari laughed at the memory; she visited to give Doyoung coffee and Johnny had went with her. While Tari dropped off coffee at Doyoung’s personal office (yes, Doyoung is now one of the managers of the gym), Johnny decided to tell Doyoung’s fellow trainers about not only his obstacle course of a room, but his nickname of ‘Calf Monster’.

At this moment, Tari couldn’t care less about her stalker. All she cared about was having her two boys with her and seeing her chosen family in a few hours. “I mean,” Johnny started over exaggerating and grossly bit his lip as if he was checking out Doyoung, “look at those calves.”

“I liked it better when you weren’t dating.”