#and then he suggested that we trade clothes before we went back upstairs

[scatteredcloud]

> “Yeah I just didn’t like the way smoking weed made me feel”

> feeling any emotional pain

> “god I wish I had some weed”

[marvelmusing]

Late Night Confessions

Helmut Zemo x Reader x Heike Zemo

Part of my • 𝗦𝗢𝗞𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗨 •

My Masterlist

WARNINGS: suggested smut, 18+ content

It all started one night. After months of work, and a bit of help from Helmut, you’d finally secured a successful trade deal between Sokovia and the US. You’d been in your office when the confirmation came through, and you immediately went to Helmut and Heike, who were hovering anxiously in the corridor. You look between the two of them, with Helmut’s creased forehead, and Heike’s bottom lip between her teeth as they both look up at you expectantly once they hear your door open. Helmut raises an eyebrow,

“Well?” Your face breaks into a grin as you nod at them both,

“All done.” Their smiles match your own, knowing how hard you’ve been working for this. Before you know it, Helmut is spinning you around with a prideful grin on his face. You cling onto him in order to keep your balance, attempting to ignore the warming of your cheeks as he holds you close. Once you’re released from his grasp, Heike’s arms are slipping around your waist, rewarding you with an affectionate squeeze.

“Well done darling.” She says softly. Then Helmut offers to take the three of you out to dinner, which in your excitement, you accept. Completely forgetting that this is exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid doing with them, an evening out that could quite easily be a date - if only. Despite your determination to avoid too much affection towards them to avoid a slip up, you can’t help your widening smile as you lean into their praises and adoration. You could definitely get used to this. You continue to remind yourself that you can’t have them. That the only reason they’re acting like this is because they’re pleased for you - as their friend. Even then, you can’t help yourself, as your eyes linger a little too long on them both, your fingers pushing Helmut’s arm playfully as the two of you talk, your knee nudging Heike’s on occasion. As the night goes on, you’re more and more indulgent with yourself. Allowing your gaze to linger on the curve of Heike’s lips as she sips her wine, and imagining how Helmut’s stubble would feel against your skin. They notice how distracted you’ve become, and quickly wrap up the evening in an attempt to get you home without you picking up on their eagerness.

The three of you stand in the hallway of the Zemo house. You pull off your shoes and hang your coat on the wall as usual. But when you turn to head to the stairs, Helmut’s arm leans against the wall, blocking your exit.

“Wait.” He says quietly. Your eyes flicker up to his, confusion filling your features. He doesn’t move his arm, simply bringing the other hand to trace your cheek delicately. You hold your breath, hardly daring to believe what’s happening. He cups your chin, fingers hooking under your jaw. Your frown deepens,

“Helmut?” You murmur softly. He turns your head gently, your eyes landing on Heike. She leans against the closed door, watching the two of you. His nose brushes against your cheek as his lips ghost across the skin under your ear. You try your hardest not to let your eyes close, to not lean into his touch.

“You want to kiss her don’t you?” He purrs against your throat. Your eyes focus back on Heike. Helmut feels your jaw clench as her eyes meet yours. “You could, if you wanted to.” His lips latch onto the side of your neck and you give in, tilting your head aside to allow his lips to move along your throat. He pulls you closer, his body heat radiating through his clothes. His lips meet yours and you moan into the kiss, finally getting what you’d dreamt of. You feel him pull away a little, but you keep your eyes closed, feeling almost dizzy with the feeling of being in his embrace. “Draga?” You hum in reply. When he doesn’t respond, your eyes flutter open to see him regarding you with a soft expression on his face. His thumb skims across your cheek tenderly. “We don’t have to continue, if you don’t want this.” Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you respond immediately.

“No, I want this.” You insist, no longer caring for the consequences.

“In that case,” he begins, before kissing you again. “I am handing you the reins.” Another kiss. “Do you think you can handle that, Liebling?” He remarks with a smirk. Your response is pulling Heike into your arms, your lips capturing hers as you hold her against the wall where Helmut had just held you. You cup her jaw, deepening the kiss, before letting your hand trail along her neck. Your thumb moving over her skin, applying the lightest pressure against the hollow of her throat which draws a needy whine from her. You pull away to regard Helmut with a smirk as a wicked idea crosses your mind.

“I think I can handle it.” He nods, the corners of his mouth twitching in agreement. He extends a hand to you,

“Shall we?” You nod, taking his hand and pulling the two of them upstairs to their bedroom. You take Heike’s face in your hands, pulling her towards you as you reach the foot of the bed. As you continue to move your lips against Heike’s, you feel Helmut’s hands trailing down your sides. Then his lips brush against your neck. As much as you’d love to simply enjoy his attention, you were promised the reins tonight, and with him acting like this you’d never pull off your idea. You step away from Heike to face him.

“Sit down,” you demand with a smirk, pushing him towards the chair by the bed. “And wait your turn.” He quirks his eyebrow at you, but does as he’s told. You turn back to Heike as she’s settling onto the bed, you lean over her, pressing your lips against hers. You feel her shift underneath you, and your eyes flicker down to where she’s about to pull at her underwear.

“Ah ah,” you murmur against her neck. You intertwine your fingers with hers. “I wanna take my time with you.” Your lips brush down the nape of her neck. “Can I do that for you, sweetheart?” You ask, pressing a soft kiss against the hollow of her throat, trailing your nose up against her skin. Your lips meet hers for a moment, and when you pull away she’s whining your name. You smooth your hands down her body, smirking when you hear her breathing hitch suddenly. It only takes one nudge to her thigh for her legs to part, and you settle your hips between them. Your lips are back on her neck, trailing down the valley between her breasts. She leans forward a little as you unclasp her bra. You cup each breast in your hands before giving them both the attention of your mouth. You suck, and kiss, and scrape your teeth lightly across her skin. Her back arches and she’s breathless with moans as her hips rut against yours. She clutches the sheets on each side of her as you move further down her body. Your hands brush over her thighs, feather light, and she squirms again. “You’re doing so good, love.” You murmur against her. You turn your face to watch Helmut as he grips the arms of his chair tightly, his knuckles white with the strain. He shifts in his seat when he notices your attention. Your eyes meet as you latch your lips onto the curve of her hip bone, sucking the skin before dragging your teeth over the area. She moans loudly and there’s a flicker of a smirk on Helmut’s face. Your nose trails along the line of her underwear. You give her other side the same treatment, flattening your tongue against her hip. She’s gasping once you’re done, anticipating where your mouth will go next. When you press a gentle kiss to her thigh, she whimpers. When your lips ghost further down her thigh, she cries out your name. You take the opportunity to look up at her. Hair matted, sweat glistening in the moonlight, highlighting every curve on display just for you.

“Please.” She pleads. You nuzzle against her other thigh, continuing to admire her.

“Such a pretty picture for me.” You whisper, pressing soft kisses up to the heat between her thighs. “Better than I ever imagined.” You slip her panties down, your fingers trailing along her legs as you do. The moment the thought crosses your mind, you act on impulse, tossing her panties into Helmut’s lap. You watch as his eyes darken, before he grins mischievously, crossing his legs and regarding you casually as he holds the dampened fabric to his nose. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your thighs shift in response. You return your attention back to Heike. You cup her face in your hands, guiding her lips to yours and the two of you move in tandem with one another. You sear the feeling of her against you into your mind, before pulling back. You lean away from her, dragging yourself from the bed to where Helmut’s sat. He uncrosses his legs, sitting up to regard you. You stand between his legs, before tilting his face up to yours and pressing your lips against his. His hands are firm against your hips as he pulls you closer into the kiss. Once you step apart you’re both panting for breath. You hook your fingers into his belt loops and tug him backwards towards the bed. You make quick work of removing his shirt and trousers. When he reaches to take off your clothes, you swat his hands away, and drag him into another kiss as you push him gently towards Heike. He leans back against the headboard next to her, and in a moment you’re on top of him, straddling his waist. Heike looks across at the two of you, her eyes wide as your mouths meet. Once you pull away from Helmut, you’re cupping her jaw and moulding your lips against hers. You move back and forth between the two of them, almost dizzy with the feeling of them both clinging to you, their lips intoxicating you. As Heike gasps for breath, you lean your forehead against hers and whisper, “How badly do you need it?” Her only answer is a whine. You let out a breathy chuckle against her skin as your lips move down her throat. “I’m going to need a little more than that sweetheart.” She whimpers again before stuttering out a small,

“Please.” As your teeth scrape her collarbone the words begin to tumble out of her. “Please, need you so bad. I just, just need you.” You smirk as your lips ghost the shell of her ear and whisper quietly.

“Just me?” She nods hurriedly, her desperation would be evident even if your eyes were closed. Though if your eyes were closed, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the sight in front of you. Of Heike, writhing and squirming on the sheets, every inch of her screaming for your touch.

“Just you,” she gasps. “Only you.” Satisfied with her response, you return your attention to Helmut. You press your hips back against his, and lean yourself flush against his chest. You cup Helmut’s jaw, pulling his lips to yours. His grip on your hips is near bruising, making it much harder for you to concentrate. Though you still manage to keep control of the kiss, catching his lower lip between your teeth and sucking it softly before you pull away.

“And what about you?” You ask him softly. You trail your kiss down his throat, dragging your nails lightly against his chest as you move down, drawing a groan from him. “Do you need me,” you kiss his lips again. “Just as,” Another kiss. “Badly,” A deeper kiss. “As your wife does?” You finish, rocking your hips against his as he moans again. He pushes his head back against the pillows with a small growl as his nails press into the skin of your hips. You lean your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes to prevent either of them from seeing how they rolled back in pleasure at his actions. In response, you graze your teeth against the juncture of his neck, and repeat your question. “Do you?” His moan vibrates through his entire body and you shudder slightly as he rasps out.

“Yes Draga. I do.” You nod, getting very caught up in everything.

“And would you want anyone else right now?” Heike’s eyes meet yours as your mouth moves against his shoulder. She shakes her head.

“No.” She admits in a whisper. You smile at her, tucking a rogue hair behind her ear,

“No? Nobody?” You feel Helmut shake his head as well. “Not even each other?” Heike pulls herself closer to you.

“No, just you, please.” She pleads. You pause for a moment, feeling rather bad for what you’re about to do.

“Well good luck with that.” They both stare up at you in surprise. They don’t even look at each other, their frowns fixed on you as you pull away and make your way towards the door. Your heart races as you walk down the stairs, but not nearly as fast as your mind begins to race.

“You’re in my seat.” Helmut remarks, his face unreadable with the limited light from the lamp beside you. You stay quiet, deciding to take a sip from your glass. He sits in the seat next to you, reaching out for the bottle to pour a glass for himself. He sighs, leaning back into his seat. “You know, if I wasn’t so aroused, I’d be impressed.” You look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “I'm usually the one to pull a stunt like that.” You’re tempted to remark that you’ve heard it, but instead you take another sip. “But I’ve never seen her that wound-up.” He admits. If you weren’t so nervous you would have reminded him that he was also rather wound-up. Instead, you tilt your head aside with a frown.

“Is that meant to be a complement?”

“That depends on whether that was your intention.” You set your drink down on the table as you consider your answer.

“No. I mean, maybe. Yes.” You run your hands through your hair in frustration. “I suppose I just wanted to get back at you both.” He frowns at that. “Your bedroom is directly above mine.” You explain, and he soon figures out what you mean.

“We can change that, if it bothers you.” You nod faintly. It does bother you, though not in the way he’s assuming. Heike stands in the doorway, pulling her robe tighter around her body. You stare down at your knees, eyes suddenly filling with tears.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out. Helmut looks back at you sharply, concern etched into his face at the sadden sound of your voice.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

Heike kneels in front of you, squeezing your thighs in reassurance before coaxing you into looking down at her.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined everything now.” You confess. Helmut leans forward and begins to rub your arm in an attempt to soothe you.

“What do you mean Draga?” He asks. Your tear filled eyes meet his, and his heart nearly breaks at the sight of it.

“Because, now we can’t go back to how we were before. Just because I wanted to be selfish and to get back at you both for having each other every night.” You sob a little between each sentence, but you soon manage to get your words out. As you attempt to regain control of your tears, you fail to notice the look they exchange as they finally realise what’s been bothering you.

“Oh Draga.” Helmut coos softly, as he cups your cheek. His thumb strokes your tears away, and you relax a little under his gaze.

“It’s not a crime to want us both.” Heike says, reaching forward to kiss you, but you shift out of the way.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She asks softly, not at all offended by your sudden rejection of her, only concerned about you. You frown lightly,

“What?”

“Why won’t you?” You swallow hard.

“Because I’ll fall in love with you.” You keep your gaze fixed to the floor. “Because I am deeply, madly, completely in love with you both. And right now I can ignore it, and I can do my job, and still be around you both. If we do this. I won’t be able to ignore it anymore.” Her fingers hook under your chin, tilting your face towards hers. Before you can meet her eyes, her lips are on yours and your mind goes blank. Her kiss is soft, the love and care she feels washing over you in waves as her lips move over yours. You pull away, “Heike please.” You plead. You don’t even know what you’re asking for. For her to carry on. For her to stop. For them both to just take care of it all. To make it easy. Her hands find your hips and she pulls you closer. Your hands grip the arms of the chair.

“Say it again.” She urges you.

“I love you.” You abandon all hope of ever returning to normality. Now that you’ve said it, you doubt you’ll ever be able to stop. You thread your hands through her hair as she pulls you in for another kiss as you continue to mumble a stream of I love you’s. When she pulls away you keep your eyes closed. You feel her palms cupping your jaw, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks.

“Darling?” You hum, finally drawing up the courage to look at her. “We love you.” You freeze, hardly daring to breathe. You must have misheard her. She can’t have said that. The soft smile she’s giving you blurs as your eyes fill with tears once her words sink in. You shake your head slightly. Helmut leans closer, taking your shaking hands in his with a reassuring squeeze.

“You can’t.” You protest in a small voice.

“We can. And we do, Draga. We love you.” Helmut tells you.

“Both of you?” Heike nods,

“Both of us.” You close your eyes briefly as a stray tear falls down your face, and a half laugh escapes your lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Undoubtedly.” Helmut says, his eyes remaining on you. Heike stands up, pulling away from you a little, and uncertainty flickers in your eyes. Despite her still being within your reach, you feel the sudden urge to close the distance, to never be parted from her. You relax a little when she offers you her hand.

“Why don’t we finish what you started upstairs?” She suggests with an affectionate smirk playing on her lips. To which you nod a little bashfully, allowing the two of them to guide you back upstairs to prove how much they love you.

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 11 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

WC: 3.3k

AN: Yall I'm so sorry this took ages to be updated, my laptop screen broke and the repair place had to wait over a week for a new one, I hope the end of this part makes up for it <3 Parts will also be slower to come out as I'm starting my next semester of uni on Monday and that's going to take up a large chunk of my time, but I'm still going to try and put out a new part at least once a week

Spotify

Part 1 Part 12 (coming soon) Masterlist

Friday arrived far too quickly for Frankie’s liking. So quickly he had gotten himself into a routine of being with you, and it felt like it was being ripped away from him. Of course, he knew that it would happen, he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking it wouldn’t, but still . . . still he had grown so used to your presence that when it was finally time to “get your shit from that ugly ass motherfucker” (Will’s words, not his), he felt almost depressed.

You were perched on his couch when he woke up late Friday morning, a cup of steaming coffee clutched in your hand, your gaze fixed absently on a point on the wall. He called your name gently, not wanting to scare you. You blinked a couple times, as if coming out of a trance. He knew the look well.

“Didn’t sleep?” he poured himself a cup and sat down next to you. You shook your head.

“Not great. I think an hour, maybe. But like, really shitty sleep.”

“Not fully asleep but not fully awake?” Frankie suggested, having become very accustomed to the feeling during his military time. You nodded, giving him a tired smile. He understood your exhaustion. You had spent every waking moment stressed about the move, online shopping to replace the things that you were leaving at Kurt’s, and then stressing some more. You had picked up the keys on Wednesday and Frankie had gone with you to check the place out.

It was a bright, airy place, seven floors up with huge windows and a tiny balcony off the living area. Frankie had noticed your eyes shining as you took it all in, almost like you couldn’t believe it was yours. You had wiped away a tear, taking in the view of the lake by the apartment complex.

Frankie had come with his measuring tape and notebook from his mechanic days. He measured each room, each alcove where a piece of furniture would sit, and wrote them down diligently with a messy scrawl on a page labelled with your name.

When you had gotten back to his place, you set to work writing down a list of what was yours and what you needed to replace. At the top of that list was a bed, heavily underlined and circled.

“The bed’s mine, technically,” you explained as you clicked on a display photo of a wrought iron bed frame, “but he can keep it. I want a fresh start, and I think I need a new bed to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Frankie said sitting down beside you, “is that the one you’re going with?”

You had nodded, clicking add to cart. The store had next day delivery, and for a small fee would even build the bed for you. You opted for this, despite Frankie’s protests.

“Please, you’re doing so much already, and putting my whole bed together for me . . . it feels like a very unfair trade,” you told him firmly. Once again, your stubbornness had won over. Frankie, rather grudgingly, had to admit to himself that the delivery people were much quicker than he would’ve been at assembling the bed frame, especially after he had taken a quick look at the instructions.

He wasn’t about to tell you that though.

It was almost midday when a knock sounded on his door, followed by the three men he called brothers piling into his kitchen. You emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and a shy smile on your face. It struck Frankie that this was the first time you were meeting these guys, truly meeting them without the inclusion of alcohol.

“You’re all really excellent for helping me with this,” you said fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. You had opted for long sleeves throughout the whole week. “Sorry you have to give up your Friday for this.”

Benny was the first one to make a move. He strode forward and enveloped you in a tight hug. Frankie could see the initial shock on your face before it was replaced by a hesitant kind of happiness.

“You like Taylor Swift?” he asked, and you nodded. Benny craned his neck to look at Frankie. “She’s riding with me, if that’s okay?” he turned back to you and you nodded again. Benny grinned and whispered something in your ear, causing you to snort out a laugh.

Santi stood beside Frankie and pressed an envelope into his hands.

“The photo,” he explained. “Again, remember I have several copies, so if you plan on destroying this one, imagine it like a hydra.” Frankie rolled his eyes and put the envelope in his back pocket. You were too busy chatting with Benny and Will to notice, and he was glad. He wanted to surprise you with the photo when you needed it.

Benny and Will had taken a particular soft spot for you since Frankie gave them the bare-bones rundown of how Kurt had treated you. Frankie noticed it now, in how Will stood like your own personal bodyguard, in how Benny had slung his arm around your shoulders, like you were old friends. Frankie felt the briefest flash of jealousy before he stamped it down. Just because he couldn’t – wouldn’t – touch you, didn’t mean no one else could.

“Quit staring Fish, you look like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes turn to hearts,” Santi muttered, elbowing Frankie in the ribs. Frankie elbowed him back, annoyed.

“Alright, gang! Let’s get this show on the road!” Will clapped his hands together. Benny raised an incredulous brow at his brother.

“What are you, fifty?” He turned to you, linking his arm through yours. “Don’t worry, Fish, I’ll drive extra carefully.”

Frankie felt envious of Benny then, even though he had basically had a week straight with you. But knowing it was coming to an end, that tonight you’d be sleeping at your own place, instead of just down the hall. Well, it made him almost sad. He pushed that aside though and forced himself to be happy for you.

As he drove to your old apartment, everyone else following behind, he focused a little too hard on the radio, just to give his mind something to do. A newsreader was talking about how a quick-thinking pilot had landed a plane in a field after something went horrifically wrong with the engines. Zero casualties, minor injuries. People were already calling for the pilot to be given a medal.

Maybe I should renew my licence, Frankie thought. He didn’t want to be a commercial pilot, or a hero of any kind, although the uniforms were nice. But it couldn’t hurt to have it.

He pulled up outside the building, gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was it.

Will and Santi parked behind him, but Benny’s ridiculously lifted pickup was nowhere to be seen. Frankie squinted towards the end of the street, knowing he couldn’t have gotten lost. He had you with him.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of you. “Where the fuck are they?” Frankie grumbled, now worried that you and Benny had gotten into a car accident. He trusted him, but Benny was the worst driver of all of them. He pulled out his phone to text you but was interrupted.

“That’s his truck,” Will said, pointing to the end of the street, where Benny’s truck had just pulled in. The sound of heavy bass reached them before the truck did. As Benny pulled up outside the apartment, Frankie recognised the song as Gimme More by Britney Spears.

“Sorry we’re late,” you called, clambering out of the truck, a tall plastic cup in your hand. “We stopped for frappes.” Benny sipped innocently at his, giving Frankie a look that said he needed to speak with him.

“Where’s my fuckin’ frappe,” Santi grumbled, looking envious. Benny grinned and handed his over to Santi for a sip.

You stood, looking up at the building, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Guess we better go up. I sent him a text telling him I was doing this today, but he didn’t reply, so I don’t know if he’ll be here.”

“Want us to jump him if he is?” Benny offered, but you shook your head.

“Not right away,” you said, “but if he starts up maybe slap him around a little.” Frankie knew you were joking, but the look in your eyes was one of fear. He took your hand gently and lowered his head to talk to you.

“You can wait out here if you want,” he murmured, “we’ve got the list of what we need to get.” You squeezed his hand and shook your head. Yours was cold and slightly clammy in his own, but he didn’t mind.

“No, I need to do this.” You said. Frankie nodded, understanding. You didn’t need to explain the nitty gritty of your reasoning, all he needed was for you to know that you had him, in whatever way you needed.

You kept a firm grip on his hand as you lead the way upstairs to your old apartment, only letting go when you stood outside the front door, fumbling in your bag for your keys.

At first, the apartment seemed empty of life. All the lights were off, the curtains closed, and the place was eerily silent. You stepped over the threshold, followed by the rest of the boys, who immediately got to work.

As it turned out, Kurt wasn’t there. He remained gone for a good half hour while the boys carried your heavier shit down to their trucks. You set to work stuffing the rest of your clothes into plastic trash bags you had picked up from the grocery store.

Benny joined Frankie in carrying a loveseat downstairs.

“Fish, I need to tell ya,” Benny started, grunting as they made a turn. “She’s as into you as you are her.” Frankie shook his head.

“Don’t do this, man.”

“I’m being serious. I talked to her in the truck. She didn’t say it outright, but you should’a seen the look on her face when I talked about you.” Benny waggled his eyebrows. “And her friend Sara agrees, she’s ‘smitten’ with you. Whatever the fuck smitten means. If you want my advice-”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“-Go for it. Tonight, once we’re all gone. Shoot your shot my guy. Don’t waste anymore fucking time. Sara said she wasn’t even sad about the breakup, like she’s been checked out mentally for months now.”

“Wait, did Sara tell you about me punching Kurt?”

“All I’m saying is, she likes you a lot, you like her a lot, don’t waste this.” Frankie mulled over what Benny was saying. There had been more than a few moments that week when he had spied you looking at him and wondered . . . but each time he had pushed the thought out his head. Old insecurities, respect for you, held him back.

Historically, Frankie had never been very good at telling when someone was into him. He could be literally balls deep and he’d still be questioning it. Even sometimes with Portia, he’d wonder if she really felt the same way he did. Santi, who knew Frankie as a kid, chalked it up to Frankie having a rough go of puberty, not growing into his features until almost the end of high school. By then, whenever someone had showed even a slight bit of interest, Frankie had dismissed it as a cruel joke. Unfortunately, those insecurities had followed him deep into adulthood.

The mood in the apartment had become relaxed, all the heavier stuff, like your couch, TV, furniture, and fridge had been taken care of, and now all that was left was to gather all the small shit. Frankie found you in the bathroom, unscrewing the shower head. You tossed it into a box filled with other bathroom items, the loud clang making him grimace. He opened his mouth to speak to you when yelling from the front room interrupted him.

Your face fell instantly, going from focused to almost afraid. Your eyes met Frankie’s own, and he reached out to touch your arm. It’s okay the touch said, he can’t do anything to you. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and walked out with Frankie to the commotion.

Kurt was being held back with a single hand on his chest by a bored looking Will, screaming a string of expletives and struggling to land any kind of hit on Will, Santi stood behind Kurt, ready to jump in if needed. Benny was hunched over, clutching his sides in laughter. Kurt finally caught sight of you, standing a little in front of Frankie.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” His tone made you wince slightly, but Frankie was proud of the way you didn’t shrink away.

“I told you this was happening today, Kurtis, it was your choice to come back while we were here,” you said calmly.

“You’re taking all my shit!”

“I paid for every single thing I’m taking,” you said. “It’s not my fault you never put anything of monetary value into this place.” You stepped forward, so you were facing Kurt head on, but still behind Will. “You need to calm down, you’re acting like a fucking child.”

“I’M ACTING LIKE A CHILD?”

“Yes. You are. You’ve acted like one almost our entire relationship. So you can either calm down, leave and come back later, or my friends will force you to calm down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Kurt spat.

“Yes. You’ve already been smacked down before, any one of these guys would love to be the one to do it again.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try!” Kurt pivoted and lunged at Benny. Big mistake. With a simple, yet effective, punch to the head, Kurt was out cold on the floor. Benny looked up, almost apologetic. You grinned at him, silent laughter shaking your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to hit that hard,” Benny said, flexing his fist. “But I also did.”

Santi dragged Kurt’s unconscious body to the now empty living room, carefully posing him so he was curled in the foetal position, sucking on his thumb.

“He actually arrived at the perfect time,” you said to Frankie, standing back beside him. “Cause we’re done here.”

“We’ve got everything?” Santi called, overhearing you. You nodded.

“We’re finally done here.”

~*~

Frankie was glad you had decided to ride with him back to your new place. You were buzzing with a new energy, unable to keep a nervous grin off your face. You didn’t speak on the drive to your new place, but Frankie hoped he wasn’t reading into how much closer you sat, your thighs almost brushing his. Benny had gotten into his head, he knew, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation.

You were the most beautiful person he had met, both inside and out, and the very idea that you could like him the way he liked you . . . well fuck, it didn’t seem feasible. But then he thought back to the previous week spent with you, and maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea after all.

He pulled up at your new building, parking in the spot designated for you. You turned to him, unlatching your seatbelt as you did.

“Frankie . . .” you started, then leant over and pulled him into a tight hug. Frankie felt like everything you wanted to say was in that hug. You pulled back slightly, so your faces were almost touching. He could’ve done it then, he fucking should have done it. Crossed that miniscule amount of space between you. But then the moment passed, and you pulled away entirely.

You climbed out of the truck, moving to the back to grab some of the garbage bags that held the smaller stuff. Frankie’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, a message from Will in the group chat.

Ironhead: Pussy

Frankie turned and saw Will staring at him. Fuck offhe mouthed. Will flipped him off with a grin. The effort of getting all your stuff up to your new place was considerably easier than it had been the first time around. For one, your new place had an elevator. So even though they had to take turns using it, it was worlds above struggling up seven flights of stairs. The mood was also improved by the fact Will had knocked Kurt out cold. Frankie had begun to wonder if that had become the main highlight of your day.

It was well into the night by the time everything was in its new place. Benny and Will flopped down onto your loveseat, drinking beers that you had kept in an ice chest you had brought in yesterday just for this. You sat on the floor, drinking a fruity vodka thing that Frankie thought looked and smelt like a melted popsicle. The balcony door was open, a breeze that held the promise of summer drifted through.

“Where’s Santi?” You asked looking around.

“He had to get something from the truck,” Will said. As if on cue, which if Frankie knew these boys as well as he did, it was, Santi burst through the door, one arm stretched wide, the other behind his back.

“My dearest,” Santi began, and Frankie groaned inwardly, “over this past day, the gentlemen and I have grown quite fond of you.” What is this, regency England? Frankie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “And as such, we wanted to present you with a housewarming gift.” With that, he whipped his arm around and held out a vase of sunflowers. Your face softened, then broke into a grin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you pushed yourself up and pulled Santi into a hug, motioning for Will and Benny to join. You hugged the three men as tight as you could, smiling at Frankie over the tops of their shoulders. Frankie smiled back, raising his beer in a silent toast.

You placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, facing them toward the window. It was just past ten when the three boys left, Benny carrying the ice chest along with the promise to bring it back as soon as he could. It seemed like it was only moments before only you and Frankie remained.

Frankie’s phone buzzed.

Benny: Don’t fuck this up.

Frankie saw you move outside onto the balcony, leaning against the railing, silhouetted by silver moonlight, your face turned towards the breeze that coasted off the lake. Everyone else was gone, and he wondered if he didn’t take this chance, would he ever?

He moved to stand next to you, standing so close your arms were touching. His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. He murmured your name.

“Frankie,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of his beating heart. Before he could stop himself, chicken out like he had before, he closed the distance between you. One hand cupping your warm cheek, the other encircling your waist, he tilted his head down until his lips met yours.

It was everything.

Your lips were soft against his, hesitant at first, but then you were wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. You tasted like candy and those sugary drinks you insisted on bringing. Your touch was like tiny jolts of electricity shooting down his spine.

Fuck.

His tongue darted against your bottom lip, and you let him in almost hungrily. Frankie deepened the kiss, wondering just why the everloving fuck he waited this long.

He whispered your name, the word like poetry on his lips. You were poetry, you were art, you were every beautiful thing wrapped up into one person. He was in love with you.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki @procrastinationstationnation

[twistedtummies2]

Descending From the Sky - Part 1 (500 Followers Special)

IN CELEBRATION OF 500 FOLLOWERS...! (freezes as someone whispers in my ear) ...Eh? You...say I have 509 now? ...Frick. WELL, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER! Something a lot of people have wanted me to write - on this site as well as an alternate site I frequent - is a “rampage story.” You know the type: macro-sized predator goes stomping around eating people and causing destruction in their wake. I have several ideas for such tales, though most of them are still in the “pre-production” stages.  I decided to go with the one that could offer me the clearest possible plot, and which I know a few people were hoping to see: this is the third chapter in my Giant AU for My Hero Academia, based on Jack and the Beanstalk. In the past two sections, Midoriya and Kaminari went up to see the Giants. THIS time, however, one of the giants comes down to Earth themselves.  I mustn’t say more though, or I shall spoil the fun. This is a two-parter; part two will be up tomorrow. As is typical, this first section is mostly just expository stuff and...well...actual STORY than anything else. Most of the “fun stuff” will be in tomorrow’s second half. Keeping this in mind, I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for the support!

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Three months had passed since Izuku Midoriya and Denki Kaminari had descended from the beanstalk with the Golden Eggs.

The result of their fortunate adventures were plainly visible: the farm where they both lived had become far more prosperous. The fields had been able to widen, as their master, Aizawa, had been able to hire new farmhands, buy new equipment, and even purchase a new cow for milking! (Although Izuku couldn’t help but notice how much whiter Milky White’s output had always been.) The farmhouse had been repaired, and plans were in motion to construct a larger building, all while a second barn was being built to house all the new supplies. Over all of this rising splendor towered the magnificent beanstalk...and on the unusually hot morning where our story begins, the boys were very glad about that. Kaminari sighed as he paused in his work, wiping his brow with a spotted handkerchief before stuffing it back into his pocket. Though the boys could afford nice clothes, they usually wore their old peasant garb while working After all, there was no point in ruining the good stuff. “Y’know something, Midoriya?” he mumbled out, looking up. Midoriya paused, putting down his hammer and looking down at Kaminari. His expression was wide-eyed and attentive. Kaminari huffed, leaning against the side of the shed the two were in the process of building. “Life doesn’t make sense sometimes.” “Yeah, that’s a fact,” Midoriya said, with a small smile, and chuckled, turning his freckled face back towards his work. He was standing on a ladder and tapping nails into place to hold the roof boards. Kaminari was holding the nails in a jar, and passing them up, and was supposed to be holding the ladder. In that moment, however, the distracted blonde was more focused on the jar, biting his lip as he stirred the nails boredly. The pair had been alternating positions every couple of boards, since, obviously, it was a lot more work to hammer than to hold. Not that the heat made either of the stations particularly fun. Kaminari tried to get a bit of shade from the side of the shed, but as the Sun was facing in the wrong direction, there was no shade to be had. “What I mean is,” Denki went on, “I thought all this extra stuff would make our lives easier: a little less of a workload on us. Instead, it feels like we haven’t a chance to just...you know...breathe.” “I know,” Midoriya murmured, pausing in his work and dipping his head. “Nor a chance to visit our friends ‘upstairs.’” “Friend. Singular,” Kaminari corrected. “Unless you count that mean man-eater as a friend…” Both of the teens shuddered, and Kaminari even crossed himself. Midoriya shook his head and refocused on hammering as Kaminari passed up another nail, and made sure to grab hold of the ladder with one hand. He didn’t want Midoriya to fall over. For one thing, it would be kind of embarrassing if either of them broke an arm falling from a ladder after managing to climb up and down a mammoth beanstalk and never tumble once.

“Mr. Aizawa says that after this is built, we should be able to rest a bit,” Midoriya said, with a bright-eyed smile that made his green irises look like emeralds. “Maybe we’ll get to go back up there in a couple weeks.”

“Maybe,” murmured Kaminari, and frowned. “Hey, do you think he’s giving us extra work to keep us from going up there?” Midoriya frowned and turned carefully on the ladder, looking to the beanstalk, then looking over the farmland...and shook his head again, this time in disagreement. “No,” he answered, and continued hammering; the boards were hard and the nails long. “With everything going on, I think we can give him the benefit of the doubt there. There’s just...so much expansion, with all the buying and selling we’ve been doing…” “I’m glad he let us keep those Golden Eggs!” grinned Kaminari. “They look cool in the bedroom.” Midoriya nodded wordlessly in agreement, and began to descend the ladder. It was Kaminari’s turn to take care of the next few boards-and-nails. “We’ll get back there soon,” he said. “Things just have to get harder before they get easier.” “That’s one way of looking at it,” shrugged Kaminari, giving Midoriya the nail jar as he took the hammer. He bit his lip and looked off to the side. Midoriya tilted his head, concerned by the unhappy expression on his friend’s face. “Hey...something else wrong?” he asked. “Just...when I went up there last time…” Kaminari trailed off...took a breath...and shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, and smiled. “Let’s just get back to work. The faster we finish, the faster we can get inside where it’s cool.” Midoriya looked skeptical, but before he could answer, a voice interrupted the pair… “It’s going to take a little longer than expected to do that.” The boys looked up. The baggy-eyed figure of Aizawa was approaching the pair. The teens stiffened, almost as if standing at attention. “Good morning, Master!” they chorused, as if speaking to a drill sergeant. Aizawa rolled his eyes and made a grumpy sound. He made a lot of those. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. Yet,” he mumbled, then went on a bit more clearly: “I need you two to stop work on the shed today. There’s another job for you both now.” The teens looked at each other, then back to the head farmer. “Um...no offense, sir,” Midoriya spoke up, and sounded sincerely polite and curious as he spoke, “But why not get one of the others to do it?” “Or do it yourself?” suggested Kaminari, in the same tone. Neither sounded defiant, just a little confused. Aizawa crossed his arms and sighed through his nose, looking out over the farmland, watching the new helpers hoe and shovel and rake away… “I have to stay,” he said, simply and strictly. “And as for the rest of the farmhands…” He looked back to the pair somewhat earnestly. “...I trust you both more than most of them.” The two boys practically had stars in their eyes. “You...you trust us?” peeped Midoriya. “Really?” Kaminari gasped. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he droned, drably. “I trust Mineta more than you both, and he’s a donkey. And I trust my dog more than I trust him.” The pair ducked their heads with nervous, bashful smiles. Kaminari scratched the back of his head, kicking an imaginary pebble, while Midoriya rubbed one arm, trying to look anywhere but into Aizawa’s face. Aizawa rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat. “Ahem...the new help has loaded the wagon with produce to take to market,” he informed the pair. “Change clothes and hitch the horse up, then take it all. And this time, PLEASE don’t try to trade anything on the way for Magic Beans. One big green liability is enough.” He looked to Midoriya pointedly with those words. Midoriya gulped guiltily. “We’ll do our best, Master,” Kaminari promised, and slung an arm around Midoriya as he gave a cocky grin. “Just leave it to us! We’ll come back with more money than you can shake a stick at! Although I don’t know why you’d want to…” Aizawa just made another grumpy sort of sound and paused before going on… “Mind your way through the forest. Don’t stray from the path. Keep the cart moving on its course: some of the new boys have said they’ve encountered robbers in the woods, ever since…” He pointed up towards the clouds indicatively. “We’ll be careful, Mr. Aizawa,” vowed Midoriya, then looked to Kaminari. “C’mon, let’s get moving!” The duo folded up the ladder, and darted off to put away their tools before getting ready for the journey to market. Aizawa watched them go, then looked back to the partially finished shed, then turned his gaze heavenward. He glared as he looked at the top of the beanstalk...or, at least, the furthest point he could see, as it disappeared beyond the blue sky’s crest. He shook his head and pinched his brow as he walked off to see about feeding the chickens. “This place has never been the same,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I could decide if that was good or bad…”

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Meanwhile, in the Land of the Giants… “Sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” The red-haired, fang-toothed giant known as Kirishima looked with concern to his friend. His fellow titan, Bakugou, narrowed his own crimson eyes, a sour expression on his face as he lounged on a sofa in their living room. “Hell’s that s’posed to mean?” he sneered. “What do you think’s gonna happen while I’m here?” Kirishima opened his mouth to answer...then closed it again. “...Never mind,” he shrugged, and gave a cheerful smile as he slung the leather backpack over his back. “Anyway, I better get going. Tamaki’s probably gonna get all anxious if I’m late; start thinking if I still wanna be his friend, and so on…” “Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, and took a sip of the coffee he held in his hand. “How come you hang out with that wuss anyway? He’s softer than you are!” “Hey, you can’t pick your friends!” “Yes, you can,” droned Bakugou, boredly. “It’s family. You can’t pick your family.” “That, too.” Bakugou blinked slowly, his expression tremendously dull as he took another drink. “Whatever. It’ll be nice to not have your dumb hair poisoning my vision,” he grumbled. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too,” Kirishima chuckled. Bakugou just grunted, taking yet another drink. He licked his lips thinly as Kirishima tilted his head. “Hey...you certain you’re alright?” “What makes you think I’m not?” “I dunno...just...you’ve been a lot quieter lately. And you haven’t gone down to mess with the little guys in a couple of months. Not that I mind that at all…” He grinned. “Am I rubbing off on you a little, maybe?” “Dream on. I just haven’t had an appetite for ‘em.” “Uh-huh. Sure,” Kirishima mumbled, sounded unconvinced, and gave a smile. “Well...anyway, I’ll be back by tomorrow. Guard the house well!” “The fuck do you mean ‘guard the house well’?!” snapped Bakugou, barking out his annoyance. “DO I LOOK LIKE A DAMN GUARD DOG TO YOU?!” Kirishima sniggered, and responded with a jaunty mock-salute. Whistling merrily, the friendly giant thus left the house. Bakugou growled (ironically sounding VERY much like an angry guard dog), his fingers twitching around his coffee cup as he finished his drink. He stifled a burp in his ballooning cheeks - “HHHMMMRRRLLLRRRPH...grm…” - and swallowed the excess gas back down, thumping his bare chest with a beefy fist before rising to his feet. The Barbarian-garbed colossus then tromped back to the kitchen, cleaning his cup and putting it aside to drain and dry. In truth, there was something on Bakugou’s mind. Something that had been buzzing around in his brain for months, and had become increasingly more annoying. I climbed a beanstalk to the top of the sky...I befriended a giant, was able to hide from another...and I was able to make my whole village happy, and even the king...do you think anyone who’s ‘just meat’ could even think of all that? The giant ground his teeth together, fingers twitching again. “Worthless little runt,” he growled to himself. “What does he know?” The little one Kirishima called “Midoriya” wouldn’t leave his mind. He kept trying to force the small one’s words aside, but the pathetic rat wouldn’t get out of his head. It was starting to drive the titan insane. He’d spent his whole life eating humans. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and all around better than they were. It was the law of the jungle: they were SUPPOSED to fill his belly. It was just their fault they were so small and tasty! That’s how he’d always justified it. That’s how he’d always felt about it. And it wasn’t as if he ate indiscriminately. But now… Someones gotta knock some sense into you, Bakugou! You can’t just eat people, it’s...it’s not right! And if one of my friends is in danger...I’ve got to do whatever I can to help them! No matter what! Bakugou snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. The little vermin had guts. What he wouldn’t give to introduce them to HIS guts... Still...he hadn’t been down to eat in months now...and the truth was, what he’d told Kirishima was true. He just...hadn’t been in the mood to eat little people in a while. It was really starting to piss him off, because this had never happened before. They were his FAVORITE food...so what was holding him back? GRRROOORRRLLLB… Bakugou winced and hissed through his teeth, clapping a hand to his belly. His fingers rubbed over his bare, strong, well-sculpted abs as his stomach gurgled and “brumbled” noisily. So far, all he he’d had that morning was coffee. It seemed his gut was demanding something more substantial. For a moment, the thought of dozens of squirming little morsels flashed in his mind...but he shook that thought away with a toss of his messy blonde locks, and instead relaxed slightly as he stomped towards the icebox. “Something light oughta kill those damn noises,” he muttered coarsely. “Where’d I put those cold cuts…?”

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The wagon full of pumpkins, apples, cucumbers, potatoes, corn, and all sorts of other home-grown delights rattled along the semi-level road that twisted and twined its way through the forest. Kaminari sat beside Midoriya, who held the reins, while an old gray mare hauled the cart along at a steady trot. “Easy there, Chiyo,” Midoriya smiled gently, as the horse huffed softly, ears flicking at a noise from somewhere in the underbrush. “Just a jackrabbit.” “Hopefully,” mumbled Kaminari, then cocked his head to the left. “Say, Midoriya? Do you think we’ll run into that Yagi guy who gave you the Magic Beans?” “I doubt it,” Izuku said wistfully. “I get the feeling that was a one-time deal, or something.” “Hm. Got it,” Kaminari grunted, looking away again, a somewhat pensive, pondering look on his face. Midoriya’s smile faded. “Kaminari...seriously, what’s been bothering you?” “What do you mean?” “You’re thinking. A lot. That’s...very unusual for you.” “Hey. Thinking is dangerous. It can lead to headaches.” Midoriya smirked and chuckled, then paused, pulling the horse to a stop. “Come on,” he said, gently, placing the reins at his side nad putting a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably. “We should keep going,” he said, quietly. “Aizawa said there were-” “We’ll be fine. Talk to me. We’re friends, right?” “Right...well, um...it’s just…” Kaminari took a deep breath, and let it out before speaking. “...I’ve felt...really bad ever since I went up the beanstalk.” “Bad as in sick?” “No, just...bad. Emotionally. I really messed things up, and I almost got killed for it. I was being greedy and stubborn and selfish, and...look, I still love money-” “And girls.” “Well, duh, girls are what make life worth living, and money helps there.” Midoriya sighed and rolled his eyes, still smiling. “But seriously,” Kaminari went on, shifting his position so he could look Midoriya in the face, “What I did was wrong and...well...kinda stupid, even for me. I wanna make up for it somehow, just...I don’t really know what to do. And with all the time that’s gone by-” “I forgive you.” Kaminari stopped short. “I forgive you,” Midoriya said, his smile gentle and friendly. “And I know Kirishima forgives you, too. If it makes you feel so bad, we’ll find a way to go up there and see if you can do something more. I wanna go back up there just as much as you do. But work’s gotta come first.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Kaminari sighed...then smirked, and adopted a dramatic pose, pointing forward. “Well...drive on, my good man!” Midoriya snickered at Kaminari’s over-the-top impression of a pompous nobleman. “Yes, My Lord,” he winked, and whipped the reins, clicking and calling out Chiyo’s name. Chiyo let out a soft whinny and began to move forward again. Kaminari paused to adjust his clothes: both he and Midoriya were dressed in sharp-looking coats and breeches, so they could look more presentable at the market. “Yellow and black are good colors,” smirked Kaminari, admiring the golden lining of his jacket. He grinned somewhat sneakily. “Hey, think I’ll impress a few ladies while we’re out?” Midoriya was about to respond...but before he could - and after the pair had only traveled about twenty or thirty yards - Chiyo suddenly let out a sharp cry and came to an equally sharp stop. “Whoa, whoa, girl!” called out Midoriya, and as the horse settled, he and Kaminari frowned and stood up in the wagon to see what was the matter. The pair were surprised by what they saw: a small girl, dressed in a somewhat ratty-looking white dress. She had metallic-colored hair, almost the color of steel, and red eyes that looked like a couple of fresh, ripe cherries. The girl was trembling slightly. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared up at the pair. She didn’t move off the path, even as she stood. The two teens looked to each other, then back to the girl, and smiled. “Hello there!” Midoriya said kindly, and stepped down from the cart, while Kaminari stayed aboard and took the reins, just in case the old mare got a bit fidgety. The girl didn’t answer. She stayed still as Midoriya approached. His smile remained gentle and good-natured as he got down on one knee, bringing himself to the little girl’s height. “What is your name, little girl?” he asked, sweetly. The girl paused, blinking just once, before answering in a plaintive, soft voice: “Eri.” “Eri,” repeated Midoriya. “That’s a nice name.” He looked back to the wagon. “Don’t you think so, Kaminari?” “Oh, yeah. Short but pretty,” Denki nodded. Midoriya smiled a little wider, and looked back to Eri. “What are you doing out here, Eri?” he asked, carefully, and looked about with some small amount of worry. “Are your parents around?” Eri bit her lip and squirmed where she stood, looking away and hugging herself. “My...my papa needs help,” she admitted quietly, sounding almost ashamed of the words. “I...I heard your cart coming, and...c-could you...could you help me?” Midoriya frowned with concern. “Of course we’ll help,” he promised sincerely, and looked back to Kaminari. “Stay here with Chiyo and the market goods. I’m gonna see what’s going on, then we can figure out what to do.” “Gotcha,” Kaminari nodded. “Be quick though.” “I’ll try,” Midoriya said, then looked back to Eri with another kind, sweet smile. “C’mon, Eri...let’s go, okay?” He extended a hand...and to his surprised, Eri stepped back, letting out a tiny, timid whimper, as if she expected to be hit. Midoriya looked at his palm, then up at the little girl. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. Just...take my hand, and tell me where to go. Alright?” Eri blinked a few times, looking between Midoriya’s face and his hand...then, her own tiny, trembling fingers clasped about his. Midoriya smiled and stood up, holding firmly but carefully onto the young lady as she led him off the path into the forest. Kaminari, for his part, watched them go. Once they were out of sight, he reached into the cart and picked out a juicy yellow apple. No reason he couldn’t have a snack while he waited: there was plenty in the cart to sell at market, anyway. He checked the surrounding trees as he took a crunching bite from the fruit. He made sure to be alert; he didn’t want to make any mistakes. After all, if Aizawa was right, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let their guard down in the forest… While Kaminari dutifully and calmly guarded the wagon, Eri led Midoriya deeper and deeper into the untouched woods, away from the road. Midoriya looked back and frowned; the cart disappeared from sight behind him. “How far away is your father, Eri?” he asked. “And what happened to him?” Eri bit her lip, and paused, keeping her head down. As they stopped, Midoriya looked to her with concern. “Eri?” he checked, quietly. “Please answer me.” Eri let out a whimper...and, without warning, pulled her hand away from Midoriya’s, as if his touch burned her. He stepped back with some alarm as her tiny, frail shoulders began to shake. He could hear her starting to cry. “...You’re nice,” she said very, very softly. “No one...no one has been nice to me...in such a long time…” She gulped and looked up to the teen with misty eyes. “I’m so sorry.” No sooner had Eri uttered the words...then suddenly, someone leapt out from the bushes behind Midoriya and grabbed hold of him. Midoriya gasped and whirled to try and fight back...but another figure lunged from behind a tree and grabbed hold of his other arm. Izuku’s eyes widened: both of his attackers were strapping, masculine figures, dressed in long black robes, with plague doctor’s masks upon their faces. “Wh-What is this?!” he shouted, and struggled to break free. “Let...LET GO OF ME!” “Good work, Eri.” Midoriya froze as he heard the words...and his eyes widened as a third figure stepped out from behind another tree, moving over to Eri’s side. They placed a dark-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder; she whined like a kicked puppy and shuddered, clearly repulsed but unwilling to move away from the figure’s touch. This figure wore a long green coat, lined with unusual violet fur. He, too, wore a plague doctor’s mask...but this one was not the plain ivory visage the two strikers wore. His was decorated in red and gold, and covered only everything below his eyes. The golden eyes in question narrowed, a supercilious gleam in them. “Very good work, my daughter,” the voice behind the mask intoned. “Thank you for helping us, Izuku Midoriya. We have much to discuss.” The figure then pointed off in another direction, and uttered one command to the two cloaked men: “Take him!” “KAMINARI!” Midoriya yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling harder as one of the two attackers pulled a short club out of their robes. “KAMINARI! KAMINAR-!” WHACK! The world became fuzzy and filled with plain. Midoriya’s voice slurred unhealthily. “...K-Kamin-ar-i…” WHACK! Izuku knew no more. However, his cries had not gone unheard. Kaminari jolted as he heard Midoriya call to him with what sounded like real panic, the apple dropping from his hands and rolling across the dirt. It stopped right in front of the gray mare, who, thinking it was a treat, nibbled it happily. It was a lucky thing the apple distracted the horse, because the moment Kaminari heard the calls stop just as suddenly as they had come, he was on the move. He bounced off the wagon and bounded into the woods, calling back as he ran in the direction he’d seen Eri taking Midoriya. “MIDORIYA! MIDORIYA, I’M COMING!” Naturally, he was too late. Kaminari skidded to a halt, his expression horror struck, as he saw a second wagon not so far ahead...but this was no produce cart drawn by a farmer’s horse. Instead, it was a prison wagon, a cage-cart drawn by two black horses. He saw the driver’s plague doctor mask glint in the sunlight, and heard them laugh jeeringly as they whipped the horses up...then, the wagon rolled out of sight. Just before it disappeared, he caught sight of Midoriya, slumped over in the prisoner’s cage...alongside Eri and another figure he couldn’t rightly make out. Once it was gone, Kaminari stood stock still for several seconds, processing with dread what he had just witnessed...then, cursing under his breath, he dashed back through the woods to his own cart. Chiyo had just finished her apple, and let out a startled sound as the blonde-haired, yellow-eyed youth leapt back into the driver’s seat, tugging and cracking the reins. “C’mon, old girl!” he shouted. “We have to get back to the farm! This is an emergency!” The horse neighed, and the cart was soon turned around. Then, with another crack and a click, Kaminari rode the rattling wagon back down the road towards Aizawa’s farm as fast as he could…

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“Kidnapped?!” “Yeah!” Kaminari confirmed, emphatically. “I saw it happen, Mr. Aizawa! They were riding off with him; I couldn’t hope to catch up in time!” Aizawa grinded his teeth; a look of intense worry burned in his eyes. “Which way were they going?” he demanded, standing up from his desk in the room Kaminari had found him in. “South? West?” “East,” Kaminari replied. “Due East, no doubt of it.” “And you said the driver of the cart wore a plague doctor’s mask?” “Yes, sir!” Aizawa sighed. “There’s no doubt of it then,” he murmured, in an ominous tone of mortal dread. “He’s being taken to Yakuza.” Kaminari gulped nervously. Everyone in the Kingdom of Ua knew about Yakuza: it was one of two neighboring kingdoms, which had been feuding with the land for years on end. It was ruled by the evil King Kai; its armies were ruthless, and its defenses plentiful. While outright war had not been done in many years, relations between the kingdoms were still intensely...well...tense, to say the least. No one in Ua ever went to Yakuza...and lived to tell about it. “Wh-why would they take Midoriya?” Kaminari almost whimpered. “I can make a few guesses,” growled Aizawa curtly, as he dressed himself in his best hat and coat and looked to Kaminari. “I’m going to to take the new stallion to the castle. I have friends among the King’s Knights, they might be able to help us.” “I’ll go with you!” “No,” ordered Aizawa. “You stay here. I already have one of you in danger. I’m not getting you into any more trouble, and I don’t want you causing it, either.” “But I want to help!” “I know,” sighed Aizawa. “But this is no time for rash action!” “This is the PERFECT time for rash action!” Kaminari almost screamed out. “They took Izuku, and who knows what they’re gonna-?!” He stopped short at a burning, searing glare from Aizawa. He ducked his head and looked away. “...I’m...I’m sorry…” “Stay. Here,” Aizawa commanded, then added more softly, “Please.” Kaminari said nothing, but remained where he was. Aizawa looked the blonde haired boy over a time or two...then sighed again and shook his head, before hustling out of the house. There wasn’t a moment to lose. For a time, Kaminari stayed perfectly still where he stood. He listened. He waited. And the instant he heard the sound of Aizawa whistling to his horse, and the sound of the horse hooves galloping off into the distance...his eyes lifted. He looked to the beanstalk outside...and then moved to Aizawa’s desk. He hastily pulled out a small piece of parchment, and scribbled a message onto it. You said to leave you a note next time, the message read. I’m sorry, Master. I have to help my friend. I have to make up for my mistakes. Signed, Kaminari. With this managed, Kaminari clambered out of the open window, and crept towards the mighty beanstalk. He glanced from side to side, to make sure no one was looking...then, without another thought, he latched onto its based, grabbed hold of its stems and leaves...and began, once more, the long climb up...Up...UP…

“I’ll save you, Midoriya,” he promised, as he soon climbed up past the roof of the house, and kept right on climbing. “I’ll save you...one way or another…”

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“UUUURRRRRRRROOOORRRRRPH...mph...weak…” Bakugou snorted as he lounged back on the couch in the den of his and Kirishima’s home. His stomach was ever so slightly distended; just enough to make the strong, deep crevices between his six-pack muscles a little less well-defined, a clear but very small curve of fullness along his middle. One of his hands was resting upon his gut, covering his deep, black navel. He didn’t rub his stomach, didn’t scratch it...simply let his hand rest there, the limb rising and falling as his gut moved with his breathing. The ogre’s other arm was slung behind his messy-haired head as he glared with his usual, grouchy scowl at the ceiling, red eyes smoldering as he seemed to look through the ceiling itself...thinking and thinking. The (relatively) light meal he’d enjoyed left a pleasant warmth in his belly...but was not truly full yet. It barely made the slightest dent in his gut, and he knew he could fit more. But nothing around the house seemed to his satisfaction...and he had a feeling he knew what he wanted. What was stopping him? He knew what his stomach desired. He’d never denied it before. So why was he purposefully avoiding it now? He couldn’t even blame his appetite: he clearly wanted it, so what was holding him back? He didn’t know. This was...annoying. “Pissing me off,” he all but hissed to himself, fingers curling over his bare belly and twitching slightly with his ever-present anger. “Damn that little snack-rat...how’d that little fucker get inside my head anyhow…” He growled and shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts and the ever-repeating words. But they wouldn’t go away. He covered his ears, snarling and pulling at his hair. “Die, you stupid thoughts!” he snapped, trying to think of a way to force them out of his mind. He couldn’t take this much more…! He froze in the middle of his thoughts. His eyes widened as his ears pricked up. The giant listened closely. He could have sworn...he’d heard the scampering of tiny feet. He sniffed the air...and growled again, almost like a wild bear. “Fee, Fi, Fo-Fuck it. I don’t have time for this shit…” The giant swung himself out of his seat and onto the floor...but he didn’t stomp his way towards the source of the sound and scent. Instead, he cautiously began to prowl towards it, moving almost like a giant cat. He was fairly certain the little rat hadn’t realized he was around, and he wanted to keep it that way… The giant tip-toed out of the living room and towards the main hall. He peered around the corner, and his red eyes widened at what he saw. He looked both surprised and angry at the same time. Creeping across the floor was a familiar little fellow - no bigger than a mouse, compared to the man-eating man-mountain - with yellow hair and matching eyes. He nervously moved across the floor, peering from side to side and looking all around. “Kirishima?” he called out. “Hello? Is anybody home?” “Yeah. Someone’s home, little snack.” Kaminari jumped...then squealed with fright as he saw Bakugou step out from hiding. The giant’s teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, his fists clenched and visibly shaking. With a comical holler, Kaminari flailed and turned around, trying to make a mad dash back the way he had come… “COME BACK HERE, RAT!” Katsuki roared. “I’LL KILL YOU!” “That’s not a good incentive for me to come back!” Kaminari called back. Bakugou just let out a wordless shout of anger, and lumbered forward. In three long, strong strides, he moved in front of Kaminari. Kaminari skidded to a halt as the Giant glared and lifted one massive boot over him... “DIE, RUNT!” “YIPE!” Kaminari barely had time to scramble out of the way before the giant’s foot slammed into the floor. THOOM! Denki stumbled as the floor shook with the force of the stomp. He hit the floor was was briefly winded...and barely had time to lift a hand in a pleading gesture, a futile attempt to stop the inevitable, as Bakugou’s own giant fingers came swooping down towards him and snatched him. Kaminari cried out as he was hoisted into the air; vertigo hit him in an instant, and he felt woozy...but only for a second or two. He had much worse things to worry about as he was soon held up to the giant’s face. “What are you doin’ back here?” sneered Bakugou. “I...I was lookin’ for-GACK!” Kaminari choked and gasped as Bakuguou gave him a squeeze. His ribs felt nearly ready to cave in, and his spine creaked forebodingly. “I don’t give a damn,” Katsuki snorted, then smirked. “Guess it’s my luck you decided to try and rob us again. This time...you’re not goin’ home, runt.” Kaminari let out a terrified moan as Bakugou licked his lips. “I haven’t had a human to eat in months,” the ogre rumbled, his free hand rubbing his belly up and down. “Now, I’ll finally get a small taste again...thanks for comin’ to me, meat.” So saying, Bakugou closed his eyes and opened his jaws. Kaminari cried out as he was brought closer to the stinking hot maw of the man-eating monster, the tongue twitching as the teeth parted to reveal the slimy chasm of pink, soft flesh that would consume him. “W-Wait...WAIT, JUST A MINUTE! WAIT, PLEASE!” Kaminari yowled as the mouth loomed closer and closer, and he struggled in the giant’s grip. “I DIDN’T COME HERE TO STEAL, I PROMISE! PLEASE!” Bakugou stopped. His eyes opened...and he pulled Kaminari away from his jaws, closing them and glaring at the small morsel. “You’re...not here to steal?” he repeated, skeptically. Kaminari - relieved to be away from that mouth and the odor of digesting meat that came from it - sighed and nodded in confirmation. Bakugou glared darkly. “Why should I believe you?” “Um...b-because it’s true?” Kaminari eeped out. Bakugou’s glare did not soften. “Listen,” Kaminari said, and took a breath to steady himself before going on, still wiggling to try and find some semblance of comfort between the boa constrictors that were Bakugou’s mighty digits. “L-Listen, I...I’m sorry. For what I did last time. I know it was wrong, a-and I won’t do it again.” “Apology not accepted,” sneered Bakugou. “And if that’s all you’ve got, I’m eating you.” “It’s not, it’s not!” exclaimed Kaminari, desperately. “Please...wh-where’s Kirishima? I need his help!” “Stupid hair’s not here. He won’t be back till tomorrow,” shrugged Bakugou, carelessly. Kaminari looked mortified. “But...but...oh, no...now what do I do?” the human worried, speaking more to himself than the giant. “By tomorrow...b-by tomorrow, he could be dead…” Bakugou looked the tiny morsel up and down, and tilted his huge head curiously. “What do you need that extra’s help for, anyway?” he groused. “Midoriya. My friend. He’s been kidnapped.” Bakugou’s eyes widened anew. “Kidnapped?” he repeated, voice soft and somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” Kaminari nodded, his expression dour. “He...he was tricked…a-and a bunch of creeps from a rival kingdom took him away. I...I was too late to stop them. I though...maybe Kirishima could...you know...help me rescue him. Being a giant and all. But...without his help…” “Without his help, you’ll be better off,” snorted Bakugou. “Where is this kingdom?” Kaminari looked up, seemingly stunned. “Wait...you mean...YOU’LL help me?” “Psh. Don’t think of it as me helping you. I’m just helping myself,” Bakugou snorted, and smirked cruelly as he jabbed his free thumb to his chest, head held high. “No one’s gonna kill that green-haired, worthless idiot except ME. Besides, I’ve been on a ‘diet’ recently, you might say…” He licked his teeth as his stomach let out an excited burbling noise. “...I think it’s time I broke it. So...where do I need to go to eat?” Kaminari gulped nervously. “Um...uh...y-you need to go due east, f-from our home. I...I can point the way if you...um...maybe...p-promise not to eat me?” Kaminari smiled hopefully. Bakugou glared. “I don’t make promises to snacks,” he growled...then paused before going on, slowly: “Still...it’ll be hard to find the place without a guide...I guess I can let you live a little longer.” Kaminari sighed with even greater relief. “Thanks,” he breathed...then squeaked like a rodent as the giant quickly tucked him into his vest pocket. “Stay right there, and if you do anything stupid, I’ll squash you flat,” Bakugou grunted. “Now come on, snack. You’ve got another annoying bug to save…” He grinned viciously as he began to march out of the house. “...And I’ve got dinner waiting for me now. Heh heh heh…” Kaminari shuddered as he heard the giant smack his chops hungrily, and looked out over the white and blue landscape of the Kingdom Above the Clouds as his “ride” stepped out into the daylight and went on his way. “I hope I don’t live to regret this,” Denki murmured to himself. “Hang on tight, Midoriya...I’m coming…” “Ahem!” “Uh...oh, uh...w-we’re coming.” “Hmph. Better. Don’t make me regret not eating you…” “I’ll try...h-heh…”

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Izuku Midoriya groaned; a splitting headache greeted him as he opened his eyes. Breathing, itself, required great focus, which only made the throbbing, stinging pain in his cranium worse. Something prickled like nettles inside his nostrils - it smelled like ammonia - rousing him from the bleary, black haze he’d been in for some time. He could still feel the weight of the club against his skull, and hoped he didn’t have any lasting damage to worry about. Midoriya sneezed as the odor became stronger, and shook his head with a louder groan, trying to clear it and focus on the fuzzy, faded-out world around him. “That’s enough,” a voice grunted. “He’s coming to.” The scent went away, and that’s when Midoriya became aware of a few things. One, his hands and ankles were both bound with what felt like rough hemp cord. Two, a large wooden post or pole was against his back, his arms wrapped around it behind him. Three, as he shifted his bound feet he realized they brushed against splintery wood. Finally, vision and total awareness returned to him...and Midoriya felt a chill go up his spine. The location appeared to be a city square, a huge black castle not so far in the distance, and various buildings all around him. This, however, was no city square he’d encountered before...and the people around him were the most unsettling part of all. There were hundreds gathered all around him, and while many of them looked perfectly ordinary in dress and appearance...at least a third of them were wearing dark robes and bone-white plague doctor’s masks, thee black lenses blankly staring at Izuku upon the pyre he was stationed on. At the base of the pyre, Midoriya became aware of a flicker of flame. He looked down and gulped nervously: one of the Plague Doctors carried a torch. Beside him stood King Kai: his purple eyes peering over the crest of his ruby-and-gold mask, dressed still in his expensive-looking green and purple coat. Half-hidden behind the King was Eri, who was visibly shaking, eyes darting about to look anywhere except at Midoriya. Midoriya blinked at Eri...then looked up with a glare at King Kai. “Where am I?” he asked, bluntly. “Wh-What’s going on?” “Welcome to Shie, the capital city of Yakuza,” King Kai answered, and Midoriya could sense the smirk behind the mask. “I am-” “I know who you are,” Midoriya said, trying to sound as brave as he could, but unable to stop shaking. “What do you want with me?” Kai blinked slowly. “Why don’t you guess, filthy Uan?” he responded, his voice cold and cutting. Midoriya bit his lip. “In the past few months, the Beanstalk you grew has helped make your kingdom’s capital all the more prosperous,” Kai decided to explain, his voice business-like. “I would like to know how you were able to create such a thing, and where all the wealth came from.” “And why should I tell you that?” Kai narrowed his eyes, and with a slight motion of his head, the robed figure holding a torch stepped forward. Midoriya shuddered, but held up his head, straightening against the post as he glared defiantly. “Y-You can do what you want to me,” he said softly. “I’ll never tell you anything. If someone like you figured it out, who knows what you could do!” “I can already think of a few possibilities,” Kai said, coolly. “But I would recommend reconsidering. Burning to death is a TERRIBLE way to go. Trust me.” Midoriya’s defiant expression did not shift. “Please don’t hurt him…” Both Kai and Midoriya looked down at the furtive little voice that spoke. Kai’s eyes widened as he found Eri tugging on his pant leg. “Please...j-just let him go,” she pleaded. “H-He’s nice, he didn’t-AH!” Kai sneered as one of his minions struck the girl across the face, knocking her back. Kai checked his leg and sighed with relief when he saw nothing wrong. “Never touch me,” he said, in a soft, warning tone. “How often do I have to tell you, Eri? You. Do. Not. TOUCH ME.” Eri sniffled and whimpered, holding her cheek; a bright red mark was visible upon it. “Leave her alone!” snapped Midoriya. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” “She’s useful on occasion,” Kai answered, in the same icy tone as before. “But she’s very undisciplined. A father is supposed to discipline his child when they misbehave, yes?” Midoriya looked ill. He looked to Eri with sympathy. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently. Eri blinked, clearly not sure how to respond to the question under the circumstances. “She is far from your concern,” Kai intruded. “I’ll ask again: will you tell us where you got those so-called Magic Beans that brought that stalk to fruition? This is your last chance.” Midoriya struggled against his bonds for a moment, but the knots were strong and taut. He heard several in the crowd snicker. Sighing in defeat, he glared at Kai, who stared up patiently. “Even if I knew where you could find them,” he said, firmly, “I would never tell you.” “Very well,” shrugged King Kai. “In that case, you are of no use to me.” He held out a hand, twitching his fingers in a beckoning gesture. The minion holding the torch handed it over. Kai then turned to address the crowd. “Citizens of Yakuza!” he thundered. “The enemy agent has refused to tell us the secret of the Magic Beanstalk. Today, we burn him, and purge his sorry existence from our clean and well-ordered society. Tomorrow, we shall treat those who live on his farm the same way...and then cut down the mighty beanstalk itself!” The crowd cheered, lifting their fists and shouting jeers at Midoriya. Kai smiled darkly behind his mask, amethyst eyes glittering maliciously as he turned back to Izuku. “Any last words?” Kai hissed. Midoriya blinked once...and gave his reply quickly. PHUT! Kai stumbled back...and his expression became one of livid horror as he felt the slimy substance on his cheek...felt his face burning, felt the hives itch and puff up… He glared with psychotic, feral fury at Midoriya, who smirked back with undying defiance after spitting in the evil king’s face. Kai snarled, and without further hesitation, hurled the torch onto the pyre. The kindling at the base of the pyre began to crackle and burn in an instant. Midoriya’s smile faded, and he began to struggle again. The crowd cheered louder than before, laughing and mocking Midoriya’s struggles as he fought for dear life. Smoke was wisping up, and growing rapidly in density...the fire would be burning fiercely in a very short while. If smoke inhalation didn’t kill him, the flames themselves would. Either way, it would be a lingering, painful demise. “HELP! HELP ME!” he called out, struggling to loosen the knots. Kai glared with triumphant anger as his robed minions taunted Midoriya by mockingly screaming for help, and the crowd pointed and hollered. “NO! NO, LET HIM GO! STOP!” Eri cried out, as two of the masked men held her back. “Perhaps you’ll scream out the answer while you burn, you diseased piece of trash,” sneered Kai. “If not...at least tomorrow we’ll make sure your family suffers the same fate.” Midoriya struggled harder in response, which made Kai chuckle. He crossed his arms, the dark king patiently watching the fire rise and the smoke billow, quickly growing into thicker and thicker curls of vapor...it wouldn’t be long before Midoriya began coughing and wheezing. He was going to enjoy every last second of this he thought, shuddering with revulsion as he touched the stinging portion of his face the boy had spat on. “Bring me my balm,” he muttered, looking towards one of his minions. “I need to-” THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP… Kai froze...and the crowd soon went silent...as a huge, pounding sound echoed through the air. The ground began to tremble, and all across the city went very quiet, confused and frightened as the noise grew steadily louder, and the vibrations more intense… Midoriya blinked, and looked upwards, as did Eri and Kai and nearly everyone else gathered in the city square. Midoriya saw a huge, towering silhouette - at least as large as the castle itself - approaching the area… “Kirishima?” he whispered to himself hopefully, with an optimistic smile.

“A Giant!” exclaimed King Kai, and barked orders to some of his soldiers as he moved a few steps away from the pyre, the people of the city clutching each other, their chatter turning into frightened noises as the King shouted and cried out: “Get to the edges of the city! Fan out! Do everything in your power, but don’t let that...that THING pollute my capital!” The soldiers hurried to move, forgetting all about Midoriya, whose pyre still burned. Midoriya himself had almost forgotten, himself, given the circumstances.: the adventurous lad’s smile quickly faded into a look of confusion and fear as he realized the hair didn’t look like Kirishima’s...and as the giant moved closer and closer, and people in the city began to fretfully murmur, he soon saw the glare of two glowing red eyes. So like Kirishima’s, yet so unlike them. A flash of green and orange caught his eye...and that’s when Midoriya knew. “B-Bakugou?!”

To Be Continued...

[amanda-teaches]

Secrets and Lights

Summary: Hiding your relationship with Dean has gotten harder the deeper you fall for him. The coming Christmas seems to be your hardest test yet, but will it turn into something so much more than you were expecting?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Secret Relationship for @spnchristmasbingo​

Word Count: 1978

Warnings: sexual suggestiveness, a whole lot of fluff

A/N: This was written for @carryonmywaywardcaptain​‘s Supernaturally Marvelous Challenge, and my prompt was Christmas Lights.

Hiding a relationship wasn’t easy, but boy was it fun, especially with Dean.

It was the ultimate adrenaline high. Stealing kisses in cloaked corners, sneaking through hallways in the middle of the night, dropping to your knees in the shower when Sam popped his head in unexpectedly. It felt dangerous and forbidden, which made every touch that much hotter. And, that’s really all it had started out as- heat. 

Your relationship had begun under the height of the summer sun, something purely physical, a way to burn off steam for the both of you, an accidental tumble into bed that had ignited into a series of passionate rendezvous. You and Dean hadn’t seen a reason to tell anybody, not when the entirety of your relationship was built off of lips, hands, and...other body parts.

But, the colder weather brought change and an altogether different kind of heat. There were fewer quickies in the Impala and more nights spent in each other’s arms. Fewer furtive glances and more lingering touches. There were nights you stayed up until the early morning just talking, trading the sex for the chance to just listen to him breathe, tracing circles on his chest as he whispered his most personal stories in your ear. The heat between you became deep, it became real, and you knew without a doubt that you were falling in love with him.

That only made it that much harder to keep your relationship a secret. Now, things were different. Now, more than anything else, you didn’t want to hide him. You wanted to show him off, to tell the world, but you couldn’t. That wasn’t what you had agreed, so you kept it a secret because that’s what Dean wanted.

At least that’s what you thought. Little did you know that Dean had something far different in mind, and his plans were already in motion. 

It all came to a head on Christmas. You’d assumed you were going to spend a quiet holiday at home with Sam, Jack, and Cas, but Dean surprised you last minute, telling you to pack your bags for a big family Christmas at Jody’s.

When you got there, he went into full nesting mode, helping the girls trim the tree, secretly tossing a wink your way every time the others were distracted. You smiled back, but inside you were coming unglued. You wanted to stand up, march over there, and kiss him in front of everyone, proud of the fact that the most amazing guy in the world had picked you, but you couldn’t. It was frustrating and exhausting and, frankly, the weight of the secret was just giving you a damn headache. After an hour of trying, and almost failing, to resist the way he pulled you to him like a magnet, you decided to get out of there, feigning sudden fatigue and excusing yourself to go upstairs.

Not surprisingly, that didn’t fool Dean for a second, and he caught up to you before you even reached the hallway. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, plastering the smile back onto your face, although it was softer this time, more muted. “Just tired from the drive, I think.”

Dean cast a glance over his shoulder, checking the hallway before grabbing your hand and pulling you with him through the closest door. You barely had time to register that it was the laundry room before your back was up against the wall, Dean’s knee between your legs and his lips dragging across your throat. “I can think of a few ways to wake you up.”

You shivered at the low growl that rumbled against your pulse point before you remembered where you were, and why you’d left the living room in the first place. “Dean, we can’t, remember? Everyone’s here.”

He ran his hand up under your shirt, splaying it across your stomach. “So?”

“So,” you laughed, playfully pushing him off you before his hand could start to wander, “you’re bunking with Sam and I’m with Donna. This house is filled with people, and anyone could walk in. We have to be careful.”

His face turned into the most comical pout, and you couldn’t resist sneaking a quick peck to his lips. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come for Christmas, and since we can’t tell anyone about us…”

You trailed off, a hidden part of you hoping Dean would say screw it, let’s tell everyone, but he nodded instead, your heart falling a little in response.

“Yeah, you’re right, we’ll be careful.” He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You should get some rest. I’ll see you at dinner?”

You nodded, resting your head on his chest for a moment to savor the peace you found there. He wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you, pulling you in, and instantly soothing you, reminding you of just how you’d managed to fall so hard for him so easily. He made you feel wanted, and when you were in his arms, you were home. “Hey, maybe later, we could sneak away...I bet the Impala feels real cozy in the snow.”

His chuckle rumbled against your chest. “Oh, we’re definitely doing that. But, after you rest.”

“Aye, aye,” you joked, pulling away and turning towards the door. You paused before you reached the threshold, turning back and meeting his eyes. “Thanks for checking on me.”

His smile lit up his face, crinkling his eyes as it expanded. “I got you.”

“I got you,” you echoed, repeating the phrase that had become a familiar mantra for the two of you the last few months. “I…” You almost slipped up, almost said the three words you hadn’t quite gotten up the courage to utter yet. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

The next few hours were filled with a lot more staring off into space than sleeping, but darkness eventually fell, and you got a quick change of clothes before heading downstairs for dinner.

The living room, freshly decorated with a sparkling tree loaded with presents, was deserted, so you made your way into the kitchen where you found Sam, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Jack, Cas, and Patience all gathered around the island.

They looked your way when you entered, Jody shooting you a smile. “Hey there, Y/N. You want to help us decorate some cookies before dinner?”

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered absentmindedly as you scanned the room. “Where’s Dean?”

Donna exchanged a look with Sam and grinned. “Oh, I think he’s outside. Would you mind getting him?”

Nodding, you spun towards the door leading to the backyard. “Yeah, sure.”

You moved to open it on autopilot, your mind already on the alone time with Dean that awaited you later that night, but once the door swung open, every tangible thought flew right out of your brain to be replaced with what could only be described as shocked buffering.

It was an honest to goodness winter wonderland. A forest of Christmas trees were strewn across the yard, with dazzling lights strung through every branch, twinkling and shining onto the soft white snow beneath. As you looked closer at the trees, you began to notice the ornaments hanging on each one: a tiny waffle, you quickly realized was the breakfast you and Dean had made a complete mess of trying to make that weekend Sam was out of town; a cup of tea, which Dean had quickly learned to make to perfection that time you came down with the flu; a pool ball, complete with a tiny scratch on it, just like the one you’d launched across the room when Dean had tried, and failed, to teach you how to play.

There were dozens more spread amongst the trees, all different memories of your relationship with Dean, all moments that had led the two of you to each other.

“You know that pool ball’s my favorite.” You turned at the sound of Dean’s voice, watching him approach you from where he’d been waiting within the trees. “I think that was the day I knew I wanted us to be more than friends.”

“Dean, wait, we can’t,” you rushed out, trying to signal him by gesturing back at the house behind you, but when you turned your head, you saw everyone already watching you, their faces plastered up against the windows.

Dean didn’t seem fazed, continuing to advance towards you. “I lined up the shot for you, thinking you’d just tap it into the rail, but you shot it across the room, up into the wall ten feet away.” He paused and laughed. “I didn’t even know it was possible to scratch a pool ball, but you did. And, the only thing I could think was damn, somehow this girl can make even that look sexy.”

That night, with the pool ball, it was over a year ago, long before you’d gotten together. He must’ve been misremembering. He couldn’t have known then... “Dean, everyone’s watching. They might find out…”

He kissed you before you could finish your thought, zapping the frenzy right out of you and silencing all of your worries with one touch. When he pulled back, he only left a few inches of space between the two of you, his gaze dropping to your lips and then slowly travelling up your face like a caress. “I told everyone about us a month ago, back when I first started planning tonight.”

It took a second for his words to register, and when they did, the realization hit you like a truck. “Wait, they know?! They all know? But, I thought…”

“I know, you thought I wanted to keep us a secret, but I don’t. I’m crazy about you, of course I wanted to tell the world that you’re mine, that I’m lucky enough to get to hold your hand every single day. Besides, I needed their help to plan this whole thing. You know, it’s not as easy to tell a girl you love her as you might think, but Donna and Jody are pretty great with the big gestures. I was coming up empty on any kind of plan until they helped me come up with this whole thing.”

“But, wait, if they’ve known for a month…” And, that’s when it hit you again, the moment you really froze, his words sinking in to leave you speechless for the third time in five minutes. “D...did you just say you love me?”

Dean nodded, grabbing your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours, his eyes shining only for you. His voice was confident and sure, ringing out for the world to hear. “I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you. The luckiest day of my life was when I somehow got you to want me back. I know we didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, but I need you to know. I’m all in, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way yet, but…”

“I love you too.” You rushed the words out, so excited you couldn’t even wait for him to finish. “I’m sorry, I know you probably had this whole speech planned, but I do, Dean. I love you.”

You could hear clapping and cheering behind you as he grinned and pulled you in, but it all faded out the moment his lips touched yours, his kiss making the whole word come to a stop for just a minute.

By the time the world started spinning again, it had started to snow, and everyone rushed out with a flurry of congratulations and hugs. You celebrated with them, but Dean never let go of your hand, holding it proudly and tenderly for everyone to see, the gesture radiating with the only thing bright enough to outshine all of the Christmas lights surrounding you: your love.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Prince of Nothing I

~ Part One of Five ~

Release Date: March 19th, 2020 @ 9 p.m.

Word Count: 6,608

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, and vivid, as well as implied, descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

“YN, please listen to me,” Hyunshik spoke a frown etched into his pale face. From where he was standing YN could see how his leg twitched anxiously. Hyunshik wasn’t the type of individual to be easily stressed, in fact, the man had a perpetual optimism that often irked his sister. Which is why her brother’s sudden switch unnerved YN. “Shik, what’s going on?”

Hyunshik had suggested a holiday for the two of them. Though the way he shaped his words, YN wondered if it was less of a ‘holiday’ and more of an escape. From what exactly she didn’t know. YN shook her head, she didn’t understand where all this was coming from. Things had been going well for the siblings as of late: their house was small but quaint enough for them to live comfortably. While Hyunshik had been employed in Mistress Eun’s manor since he was sixteen, YN had recently been employed in a small shop in the town square. Her employer was a bit strict but well-meaning. Is it Mistress Eun? YN had heard enough around town to know that she wasn’t a kind woman - often barking orders and treating her staff like scum beneath her feet. Hyunshik though simply cleaned, he wasn’t in high enough of a standing to be able to communicate much less see her.

YN stopped organizing the different fabrics on the shelf and walked towards her brother. “Talk to me. Did something happen?” In her eyes, there were unspoken words - one that Hyunshik could easily understand. Did she do something to you? Though Hyunshik was always happy, he wasn’t naive about the cruelty of the world. Something his sister had yet to experience fully, so for her sake he smiled. “Nah, work has just been piling up recently and I thought the two of us could use a break you know. Maybe go to the seaside and enjoy the ocean for a bit.” YN smiled though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “I just started working silly. Maybe we can go for the solstice? That way we can actually enjoy the sea. It’s far too cold now.”

Hyunshik gave an exaggerated sigh, “Fine but don’t complain to me later on,” his finger came up and gently massaged the space between YN’s brows. “Stop frowning, it’s unladylike and makes you look like a hag.” YN scoffed, “Rude. Plus, I am hardly a lady.” She returned to the counter and began organizing the small intricacies placed there. Hyunshik rolled his eyes, “Please my sister is the fairest maiden in all the land. I have to fight off suitors every day.��� His tone became a strong bravado as he flexed his arms.

“Don’t lie to yourself, if anything I fight off my suitors every day. You couldn’t harm a fly.”

           YN and Hyunshik had moved to their current home when the latter was sixteen years old. Their parents had just passed shortly before and they couldn’t afford to live in the city anymore, despite them living in the slums; which only grew worse over time. Slavers often went around picking up orphaned children to either sell or trade, so Hyunshik sought to get both of them as far away as he could. In desperate times came desperate measures, but Hyunshik had always stayed on the right side of things. Even when doing the wrong thing would have provided an easy out to all their hardships, he wasn’t that type of man. YN knew this deep down in her bones. So, when she saw a detained poster pierced to her front door with Hyunshik’s name under it she knew it had been a mistake.

           Soojin knew this was a part of her role, didn’t mean she hated it any less. Soojin had woken up that morning to the advisor telling her that the King had relayed his duties of standing council to Jungkook, and Jungkook to her. She didn’t have to do it - not really but it wouldn’t bode well. Even if these were technically not her people, they would be someday and it would be better to win their favor than their apathy. Soojin was meant to be the velvet to the Jeon's leather and she would play her role well. So she had sat in that wretched chair that seemed to wrap around her, tightening every second she sat upon it. It wasn’t too difficult, most of the cases were simple cases. As she was not a princess by blood, she couldn’t make any impactful decisions but it was a bit fun nonetheless to have people look up at her in the opal throne, fear in their eyes. It sent a tingle down her spine.

           Still the sensation would fade quickly as the black mamba kept coiling around her form; a reminder that it was not her throne - not yet. “Princess Soojin, the next case.” Soojin felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as she looked down upon Joo Eun feeling nothing but disgust crawl up her throat. The lady was Yoongi’s latest fling, but she felt the need to parade that around the entire court. Though one could tell just by looking at her attire that modesty and sensibility wasn’t something she knew. “What seems to be the problem?” Before Eun could speak a younger girl stepped forward, her attire worn but pleasant. Her eyes were red and brimming with unspilt tears, but somehow the girl’s head remained held high.

           “Good Morning your highness, I am here on behalf of my brother to ask that he is released as I believe there may have been a mistake.” The commoner kept her head low as she spoke, body angled in a bow. It wasn’t until she finished speaking that she looked up and Soojin’s eyes met hers. When she gazed into her eyes a weird sense of Jamais Vu consumed Soojin. What? “Why that’s just ridiculous. Why would I lie?” Eun’s voice was a high shrill, too high to be genuine. “I know my brother, he would never steal or harm anyone. Even if they tried to harm him.” The girl pleaded. She never once looked at Eun, perhaps knowing that would be a lost cause. No, all her words were directed towards the princess sitting on the throne. “Are you implying something?! Look at these people, we give them everything. Allow them to live under us, yet they bite the hand that feeds them.”

           Soojin would’ve normally agreed with Eun’s statement, but her attention was focused on the girl. She knew her from somewhere but it almost felt like what she was seeing wasn’t real. An illusion. A vision. “There are no witnesses. My brother doesn’t even have access upstairs. How would he steal?” It seems that Eun hadn’t thought out her plan to incriminate the boy or she hadn’t expected that he would have someone come to bat for him. Nonetheless, it seemed this case was a simple one. Soojin raised her hand to signal her decision, about to wave in the direction of the village girl until -

           “He assaulted me! He asked me to bed him and when I refused he threatened to kill me.” Ah, so that’s what had happened. Poor boy had refused Eun’s advancements and now he was paying the price. “Do you have any proof of this statement Mistress Eun?” She didn’t need proof, Soojin knew that. Just her words were enough to condemn him. No one would ever dare question a noble - their words were gold. Still, Soojin felt pity for the girl. “He took that necklace off of me.” Eun pointed towards the girl’s neck.

“No, this is my mother’s. She left it to me when she passed.”

“Liar. As if a vermin as yourself could afford something like that.”

“Please Mistress Eun. Please, Your Highness.”

Soojin was beginning to get a headache with all the back and forth. She rubbed her temples slowly. Just let Jungkook deal with this when he gets back. For some reason, something twisted in her gut when she had that thought but she ignored it. Soojin leaned back, feeling more claustrophobic by the second. A sigh left her lips, “The prince will deal with this when he returns. Take her to the dungeons.”

 YN couldn’t stop the tears flowing from her eyes even if she wanted to. She’d long given up on holding in the sobs that racked through her body as her brother’s fate dawned on her. Hyunshik...we should’ve run away. There was a time for should've. If only she could’ve gone back and recognized the absolute terror in her brother’s eyes. The dread. Please. Please. Please. Please. I’ll do anything. It seems someone had heard her pleas for YN felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, goosebumps rising beneath her clothes. YN turned to look past the iron gate, she saw nothing but pure darkness - but she could feel it. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. She was hesitating, afraid of what would occur next. Unsure if she was prepared for it.

“Who are you?” She heard a slight snicker back. YN jumped off the slab of metal she was previously sitting on. Her eyes pierced into the dark abyss trying to find something, but she came out empty-handed.

“Someone.” It was curt, monotone in its nature. Not giving much away except that it was a man.

“Why are you here?” The question was echoed back at her. YN stepped forward heart wavering, but her voice was strong. “You know why.” It seems he didn’t have a remark for that. Something inside YN told her to keep her guard up, she had only ever felt like that when she was younger and living in the slums. Life had been a tightrope walk without a safety net and YN felt transported back to her youth.

“Tell me YN, if you had to choose, would you rather be the fool or the one doing the fooling?”

“Does it matter?” YN didn’t see where he was taking this conversation.

“Better to be the fooler than the one being fooled.” The smugness seeping from his tone was palpable.

“I disagree.”

“Oh?” His voice seemed closer now, though she still couldn’t tell which direction it came from.

YN stepped forward once again, “I’d rather trust blindly, stupidly, and be fooled than be the one doing the fooling.”

“Why?” The voice was even closer now, YN threaded carefully still uneasy about not knowing who this mysterious man was. There was something familiar about his tone, though she couldn’t quite place it.

“Because the world needs more of it...hope I mean.”

“I don’t think that is what it comes down to.” YN could feel his disappointment, but she didn’t care. The man seemed to want to converse in circles and she wasn’t in the mood to entertain whims.

“Doesn’t it? I would rather live a life full of hope that the world out there is good and pure, even if it is a short one. It would be worse to live a long life without hope where I rob others of it.” There was a strong silence that followed. As if the man was mulling over her words, then suddenly there was a shift in the air: it became lighter. Pushing all the warnings aside YN took one last step until she was mere inches from the metallic rods that imprisoned her in the cell.

“I can save your brother.” YN felt disoriented as if the air had been robbed from her lungs before she even knew it. Happiness swelled in her. Hope-filled her, but - “Did you not just confess to fooling others?” YN knew better than to trust the words of a mysterious stranger lurking in the shadows. It seemed the man was aware of this for he finally stepped out of the shadows and into the light, his body inches from the door.

Jeon Jungkook, the prince, stood in front of YN with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It was a cocky smile, the type that alluded to an inside joke or something ironic. “Did you not just confess to trusting blindly?” YN peered into his eyes trying to decipher what he wanted. Though YN was trustful, she wasn’t a fool to the way things worked. The only time a man in a position of power like Jungkook offered something to someone like her - is because he wanted something in return. The devil is in the details. YN had heard enough stories about the Jeon family growing up to know they gave the devil a run for his money. ”What do you want?”

“Hm,” Jungkook seemed to actually think this over as he glanced away from her and towards the long dark corridor. He’s trying to play it off. “Your highness?” At this, his attention returned to the woman in front of him. “Yes?” Jungkook whispered, his eyebrow quirking.

“What would your highness like in return for helping my brother?” YN had tossed caution out the window, the second she realized it was the prince she was speaking to. Not that royalty could be trusted - no - but he was the only person who could aid her. Besides Princess Soojin, who threw me here in the first place. The princess had appeared to be on YN’s side only for her to throw her in a dark cell the second her patience wore out. If she treated her subjects like nuisances rather than people, it seemed she wasn’t the good well-mannered princess the media portrayed her to be. Just another spoke in the wheel.

Jungkook could see the wheels turning behind her eyes and spoke quickly, “I am lonely and require stimulation...of the intellectual kind, of course.”

This dazed YN for a bit, “You wish to debate?!” At this the prince shook his head, “I wish to converse. It’s not often I get to speak with my subjects, especially not ones as well-versed as yourself.” That was a back-handed compliment if there ever was one.

“Perhaps if you did, your highness, you would find that many of your subjects are as well-versed as I am. Some even more. It’s a survival tactic, not a skill.” Hyunshik had always said that tongue of hers would only get her into trouble. Considering how intrigued Jungkook looked by her response, he was right.

“How so?”

“It's a dog eat dog world out there.” More like a snake eat snake.

“And yet you trust blindly, stupidly even and hope.”

YN had no response for that so she chose to change the subject, “When do you wish for this to happen?” Jungkook chuckled, stepping closer to the iron bars. YN could faintly feel his breath and he hers. “I’ll send a guard to escort you.” YN didn’t respond, something in the back of her mind warned her against this. Told her to turn her back at the extended hand, to bite it, spit at it, and never accept it. However, to do so would mean losing her brother; the only thing she had left in this life. As if sensing her reluctance Jungkook gave that final nudge, the one that would send her tumbling down the rabbit hole.

“What would you do to save your brother?”

“Anything.”

 Yoongi had never excelled at pleasantries or small talk, he preferred standing in the corner and merely observing everyone else. His father used to joke that it would’ve been better if he was born in the lower class, that way he could live his life unnoticed and unbothered. Still, there were definite benefits to being in his position and Yoongi had long taken advantage of them. Plus, the food wasn’t too bad. Although having to sit in awkward lunches such as this one often turned any delicacies in his mouth to ash. He picked up on the discussion between his two patrons, but when the subject of Eun came up Yoongi scowled. Yoongi had taken her as a Mistress simply to entertain him. She wasn’t too bad to look at and did decently in bed.

Her blowjobs, though, we're out of this world. Still, she proved too difficult to handle and had been bragging nonstop about being a Duke’s lover. While normally Yoongi wouldn’t care, it would only cause trouble at home and Yoongi already caused enough of it all by himself. Deciding it better not to dwell on those thoughts in public, especially in front of them, Yoongi’s attention returned to the Prince and Princess. Why the hell am I here?!

Yoongi had been resting in his room when he’d been informed that he'd been invited to a private lunch with the Prince. Though gauging from how out of it the young man seemed, especially whenever his lover spoke to him Yoongi was only more confused as to why he was here. Yoongi was in a high standing position, but there were definitely others who outranked him. Other’s that made for much more interesting players in the Jeon’s chess game, but it seemed the younger had a soft spot for him. It wasn’t the first time the prince had shown him a kindness he reserved for those closest to him. Maybe it meant he liked him? Or maybe he sees me as easy prey? Actually the more he focused on the young prince, the more it dawned on him that Jungkook was daydreaming - he was thinking.

“My mother has called and requested I visit her, says it’s an emergency. I’ll be leaving right after lunch and should return the day after tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s entire aura had shifted, a gleeful look now in his eyes. “Is that so?” pondered the young man, with an exaggerated pout on his lips. Yoongi had fallen victim to that trick so often he now recognized it, but it seems the Princess was none the wiser. “Don’t miss me too much,” Soojin replied, a smile on her face. Yoongi was often confused by the dynamic between the two of them. They didn’t act like lovers - no it was as if they were both pretending to be lovers and just happened to be really good at it. Or at least that’s how it should’ve been. For when Soojin stared at Jungkook for too long, her mask began to slip and Yoongi could see traces of affection and admiration in her eyes. Jungkook’s, however, remained forever blank and cold.

Their relationship reminded him of his own. “Tell me Yoongi, how has Jisoo been doing?” Shit, he wasn’t prepared for the cards to turn on him. Now both of them gazed at him with unrecognizable looks in their eyes. The masks are back on. “She’s well. Resting at home and tending to my mother.” Yoongi grumbled, he didn’t like being asked about his wife. It only served as a reminder to him and everyone else how undeserving he was of her. Thankfully the conversation had strayed away from him again onto some random girl. Yoongi let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in. I need a break. Well, he had been taking a break he hadn’t seen his wife or lover in weeks, but now he needed a break from his break. Yoongi was getting angsty again and there was only one person who could fix that for him.

“If the two of you would excuse me, I’ll be going now.”

Before Yoongi could even blink, Soojin had left the room; left him alone with Jeon Jungkook. Those sharp snake-like eyes trailed over him like a beast assessing its prey. Any second now Jeon would strike, Yoongi could feel it. “Say Yoongi, your little songbird, does he still sing?” Yoongi was frozen in shock. H-how does he know? Jungkook had his head resting casually on his hand with an almost unamused look on his face, though Yoongi could see the wickedness gleaming in his eyes.

There was no point in denying the accusation, Yoongi knew, but perhaps to agree would cause so much more harm. “Not anymore, your highness.”

At this, the man sighed, “What a shame. I was in need of his services.” Jungkook was baiting him, Yoongi was too much of a coward not to bite.

“Services for what?”

“Nothing too major, just information.”

Information Yoongi could deal with, but there was something about the dark look in the Prince’s eyes that unnerved him. Still, this was a test, Yoongi would lose far too much if he failed it. God bless the poor soul. “Who?”

Yoongi didn’t miss the way a grin spread Jungkook’s lips apart.

 It was hours later that a guard did appear, his jaw sharp and nose held up high as if she were scum. YN was used to nobility treating people like her as if they were inferior, but a guard? YN smiled a bit which only seemed to upset the man more, for he practically dragged her out of her cell before threading through the dark corridors of the dungeons. The castle was beautiful - there was no denying that. Exorbitant and excessive in only the way the rich could be, still the palette of the castles were mostly shades of blacks, greys, and muted whites so it didn’t appear as if Midas had gone mad. It was a fairly long walk until they reached what she assumed were the apartments. The room they seemed to be heading for was the one at the end of the hall, whose doors stood taller and prouder than those around it.

YN did note how she hadn’t seen many nobles loitering around and decided it must be offseason. Why else would they let me into a room? The doors slid open before either the guard or YN could even touch them, which confused her. The guard wasted no time in pushing her inside and gesturing towards the bed, “Twenty minutes.” He stated before slamming the doors shut. For her to say the room wasn’t beautiful would be a lie, it was so unlike everything else the palace was: simple and almost vacant. Though what definitely stood out the most were the tall rounded stained glass doors that led out onto a balcony. There was something so beautiful about the way the moonlight streamed into the room, creating a beautiful highlight that contrasted all the darkness in the room. YN found herself walking towards the doors, drawn in by the moonlight.

When was the last time she’d seen the moon? Surely, it couldn’t have been so long ago? Her hands reached out towards the handles, as she pondered if the moon would look that much beautiful up close. It must. All beautiful things look better upon closer inspection. She was so close - STOP! YN jumped back and looked around the room, catching sight of the dress on the bed. It was a black embroidered gown, from just putting it on YN was sure it was worth more than her life. She assumed she should be using this time to make herself look presentable to the prince, but all she really did was try to smooth down her hair and calm her heart. It wasn’t long until there was a harsh knock on the door before the guard from before threw the door open.

YN assumed they were heading down towards one of the dining rooms or maybe a parlor, but instead they continued to climb upwards until they reached the top floor. Where the guard made a sharp left turn they were met with large opal doors with the Jeon’s crest embedded in it. “I thought we were having dinner.” The guard smirked, raising his fists to knock. The doors opened to Jungkook sitting at the head of a table with an elaborate feast in front of him, whilst he sipped on a glass of wine. “Thank you, Jinyoung. You’re excused.” Jinyoung smiled and bowed, before pushing YN into the room.

YN lingered by the door, her focus lay entirely on the man ahead and now that she was in his presence without a barrier to separate them - she realized how threatening he was. Almost as if the cell was keeping him out. The room itself screams Jeon in every sense of the word, it's dark colors accented with green, silvers, and golds. It must’ve been the largest room in the castle save for the king’s - a penthouse in a way. “Come, sit. I don’t bite.” Somehow she doubted that. YN walked towards Jungkook counting the steps as she gazed straight ahead, she wanted to sit away from the prince but he had other plans as the chair to his left was the only one not tucked in. It was once she sat that he finally looked at her, trailed his eyes delicately across her body.

YN shifted uncomfortably aware that the evening dress, though long, still accentuated her figure in a way she wasn’t used to. YN cleared her throat, “I thought we were going to have dinner.” He seemed to understand what she was implying but played coy nonetheless.

“Is this not dinner?” Jungkook gestured to the row of dishes in front of them. Not when it’s served in your bedroom it isn’t.

YN surmises all of this was supposed to impress her, but all it truly did was make her annoyed at the prince. There was a clear disconnect between the palace and the world that existed outside the tall metallic gates. If the prince was willing to spend all this for a simple village girl, what might he do for someone of actual ranking and value? Then again he was a Jeon and their reputation precedes them, the image they conjured up wasn’t of ‘for the people’ but rather ‘for themselves.’

“You don’t seem impressed.” The prince leaned forward, eyes piercing into hers.

“I am…”

“Please, don’t hold back on my account.” Jungkook leaned back, resting on his chair. One of his legs was perched up and his hand resting on it, as the wine inside the glass swirled around. His eyebrow quirked, indicating he was waiting for a response and YN thought it best to simply give him what he wanted. After all, hadn’t he asked her not to hold back?

“It just seems like a gluttonous amount of food for two people.” She remarked looking at it.

Jungkook chuckled, “Gluttonous that’s a big word.” The stare that YN sent him had him laughing. She was taken aback by it, his laugh: the way his crinkled eyes shined and the melodic airiness of it. “Sorry but you are quite amusing. Telling the prince off for ordering too much food.”

YN’s eyes widened and she was quick to apologize, biting the inside at her cheek while she scolded herself for forgetting her place. Jungkook dismisses her apology, waving her off. “It’s refreshing.” For a second, YN felt comfortable around him. Truly comfortable, as if they were young acquaintances - not a prince and his subject. Someone next in line for the throne while YN was fighting to prove her brother’s innocence. Things would’ve been different. Things could have turned out different for the two of them, were they in another world and another time. Or maybe they were always destined to bring nothing but pain and suffering into each other’s lives. It’s easy to wonder and pretend, but fate is cruel and has a twisted sense of humor. Still, YN wondered if in another world Jungkook and her could’ve become friends. Maybe.

 “Tell me about yourself.” It wasn’t a suggestion, more of a statement really. YN places the knife down pausing cutting the steak as she looks up to meet Jungkook’s eyes. There was something lurking in them.  “Why?” The prince shrugged as if he was simply trying to make small talk. It didn’t go unnoticed by her how throughout the course of their meal he had gotten closer to her: his chair was tilted towards her, his feet were outstretched so they occasionally brushed hers, and he stared at her as if he were trying to pierce into her soul.

“My mother and father died when I was fairly young, so it has been my brother and I for a while. My brother has been working since he was eleven and I’ve managed to get a job recently,” she moved around the food on her plate. “I haven’t had an easy life, but I don’t have room to complain when there are others who have had it far worse.” YN’s early life hadn’t been easy and she still didn’t know how she got out. Still, there was always someone who had it worse and she had her brother, a good home, a sense of security. Jeon Jungkook might seem polite, or at least he’s good at pretending he is, but he would never understand what it’s like. YN doesn’t want to bother educating him, so the sugar-coated version of her life is better.

YN heard a chair screech and suddenly Jungkook was incredibly close to her, sitting at the edge of his seat. “No, I want to know you. All the little things about you.” The change in his attitude almost gave her whiplash, he was whining now. Like a child that didn’t get what he asked for. That sense of unease crept back into her system as she leaned back trying to get as much distance between the prince and her. “I’m sorry, but why?” It wasn’t a ridiculous question to ask, but the way Jungkook was looking at her made her feel like it was. “Why not?” His dark coal eyes boring into hers were almost predatorial.

Goosebumps began to rise throughout her body the longer the silence prevailed. YN didn’t feel safe anymore, Jungkook looked just about ready to strike at her but instead, he simply smiled. “Why were your parents killed?” What? “Why did you run away from the slums? Why did you move into Giihan? Why were you never engaged?” YN’s jaw slackened as she sat there unable to comprehend how he knew all of this. Finally, Jungkook paused, seeming to deliberate on whether or not he should ask his final question. “Don’t you think it’s inappropriate to live with a man with no blood relation to you?”

YN was frozen with fear, she saw at that moment a brief glimpse of Jeon. What he was capable of. “H-how...” How does he know all those things? How does he know Hyungshik and I aren’t related?

“I had to make sure I wasn’t being fooled.”

Rage. That’s what began to rise inside her, though it was mainly at herself still it was a cruel reminder that to him this was all just a game. Something to entertain him because he was bored. YN grips the chair handles to stand up but freezes when she feels something slither across her neck. Her ears picking up on slight hissing. Jungkook grinned, “Ah yes, that’s Morte. Don’t worry he’s harmless just try not to make any sudden movements.” His eyes were alight with humor, finding the entire situation funny.

The snake settled comfortably on YN’s shoulders and the girl willed herself not to cry. It would only further wound her pride and it might startle the snake. Jungkook reaches over to the wine bottle and pours himself another glass, “By the way, I spoke to Eun. She admitted to having a fancy on the boy and getting upset when he rejected her so blatantly. It’s his fault really if he had gone along with it none of this would have happened.” That wasn’t true if Hyunshik had been caught in an affair with Mistress Eun his corpse would be hanging from the gallows.

“Thank you, your highness. May I see my brother now?”

“Oh, he’s still imprisoned and awaiting trial.”

“...what?” YN couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. He had said, he had agreed. A sudden flashback of the first words Jungkook had ever spoken to her, “would you rather be the fool or the one doing the fooling? Better to be the fooler than the one being fooled.” It wasn’t until she felt the tears rolling down her face that YN realized she was crying. The next words were the ones that solidified how naive she’d been. “I only agreed that I could save your brother if you had dinner with me, not that I would.” YN felt her entire world begin to crumble. Here she was playing dress-up, feasting with the prince, trusting him, while her brother was about to be imprisoned for the rest of his mortal life. She should feel upset, disappointed, enraged, but all she felt was a cold apathy overtakes her as it finally dawned on her why she was here.

She was a nobody and yet the prince had visited her, dolled her up, and had her delivered straight to his bedroom. There was only one way to save her brother.

“What would it take for you to save my brother?”

“From imprisonment?”

“Yes.”

“A kiss...just one.”

“Do you swear on your life?”

Jungkook laughed, “I swear on the life of everyone in this kingdom, save for yourself of course.”

It was sudden really how she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, tears still trailing down her face. It was so sudden in fact that it startled the snake, who sank its fangs straight into her neck.

  Yoongi had barely the night before images of his loved ones massacred while a snake suffocated him plagued his mind. It had been months since Yoongi had been home, but he had this urgent need to return; to make sure everything was okay. His current definition of okay meant that everyone was alive and not dead by the hand of some psychotic prince who had recently found himself a new toy to play with. It was quite ironic how much Yoongi felt the need to criticize Jungkook, considering he too had fallen victim to the same type of infatuation. He would never dare recognize it as such though, no, what they had was different. No one understood him like he did. No one would ever love him as much as Yoongi did. J-

“Duke Min?” Yoongi spun around and was greeted with the sight of a young girl. There was a sense of urgency, need, in her eyes and Yoongi thought she looked familiar. “Pardon, but I must be getting somewhere.” Yoongi spun back around but was halted when she gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “Please sir, it’s regarding Mistress Eun.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and proceeded to walk away, Eun was clearly too much of a hassle and he would get rid of her as soon as he could. “Whatever issues you may have with Mistress Eun have nothing to do with me, take it up with her or the king for all I care,” Yoongi grumbled, speeding up trying to get away from the girl but she chased after him. There was something about her that made him nervous.

The girl took off in a sprint and managed to get ahead enough to block him, “Please. Mistress Eun has accused my brother of stealing and he is to stand trial today,” Yoongi tried to push past her but the girl wouldn’t budge. “The prince has already promised his help but if you could just -” No wonder she looked so familiar. Yoongi’s widened eyes cast downward, truly taking in the girl for the first time. Fuck. It was her. Yoongi felt a deep sense of remorse crawling up his throat, it practically choked him as he saw the desperation in the girl’s eyes. “- just get her to drop the charges then the entire trial could be avoided. Please I’ll do anything.” No, it wasn’t because of her picture that she was familiar to him it was her expression. That was the exact same expression his songbird had when Yoongi had first laid eyes on him.

“How many lives will you ruin all to satisfy your needs?!” As many as it took, Min Yoongi was not a good man. He would never be. He’d been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and the world handed to him on a silver platter like it was his to play with. Yoongi only really took advantage of it when he saw something he wanted and now he’s willing to risk everything to make sure it is forever in his hold. Even the life of the poor girl staring up at him as if he was her last hope.

“I’ll get Mistress Eun to drop the charges. You have my word.” Words are empty. It is actions that truly speak. Yet when Yoongi saw her smile, the way her eyes filled with hope, he realized that he had a lot more in common with Jeon Jungkook than he previously thought.

 YN waited among the crowd, her hood up to shield her from the downpour of rain that fell. Person after person had stood trial with whipping, banishment, imprisonment, and other methods of torture being the most common sentence. Death was rarely ruled as most of the cases were light criminal offenses. She thanked the gods, as YN didn’t think she could stomach seeing a man being hanged. Still, she knew some of the people around her begged to differ, they would scream and curse at the men on the wooden stand begging for blood and pain. It was moments like these that reminded her that although the nobility was cruel, sometimes they were no better.

“Kim Hyunshik.”

YN saw as her brother stepped up the stairs and into the stand. His clothes were dirty and full of grime, his lip was cut, and the bottom of his eye had begun to swell. It hadn’t even been forty-eight hours, yet he still looked like he’d been through hell and back. Her heart pounded in her chest as she willed herself to calm down. Hyunshik’s eyes darted all over the crowd and YN knew he was looking for her, yet he would have difficulty finding her in this heavy rain. The guard pulled out a paper, beginning to read the offenses and the verdict. YN held her breath.

“Kim Hyunshik stands accused of thievery, disrespecting a commanding officer, and assault.” The crowd began to spew insults at him, some going as far as spitting. “The court finds the defendant...not guilty.” Oh, thank god. YN almost cries of happiness. Hyunshik seems to visibly relax too, thankful that he wouldn't have to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

“Kim Hyunshik also stands accused of plotting, assaulting a member of the court, and conspiring against the crown.” What? No. The crowd became louder, venom spewing out their mouths towards Hyunshik as YN stood in shock. This can’t be happening. “The court finds the defendant guilty and sentenced him to...death.” No. No. No. No. NO! The crowd goes into a frenzy with jovial shouts as Hyunshik is dragged away to the post by the left of the stage. YN tries to fight against the crowd to make her way to her brother, desperate to reach him. “Hyunshik! Hyunshik!” Her brother looks around panicked, begging for mercy as he is placed on the false bottom and the noose is placed around his neck. It is then that their eyes finally meet, Hyunshik staring straight into YN’s eyes, his mouth moving gently as he stares at her with nothing but affection. ‘I love you.’ He mouths.

The lever is pulled.

[mlovesstories]

Feeling the Burn Part 7 (FINAL)

Warnings: panic attacks, cussing, emotions

Words: 2200

AN: FINAL CHAPTER, PEOPLE! 

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Danneel followed Jensen into their bedroom.  

“Baby?” She caught up to him and pulled at his arm to turn him around.  Finally seeing his face, she noted the dark circles and puffy eyes.  “I’m sorry it was hard,” she pulled him into her.  “It’s okay.”

“I had a panic attack, and I-” he stopped.  “I’m so tired.” Danneel rubbed his back.  She stayed quiet for a moment.  

“It’s okay.  No worries.” She felt his muscles stiffen.  “Breathe,” Danneel whispered.  “You’re here with me, and I love you.  What do you see right now?” She backed up from him to look at his face.  “Jensen?”

“Umm.  You, the wood floor, the bed, the fan, and the door.”

“Good boy,” she smiled. Danneel interlaced her fingers with his and guided him to the bed. “Sit down,” she gently stood over him as he lowered himself to a seated position on the bed.

“I-“ he tried to explain himself.  “I need to go to the brewery for the meeting with the investors-”

“Shh. Gino can take care of it.  Let me help you. No talking, okay?” She looked up at him and smiled. “Let me do it. You relax.” Danneel undressed Jensen and retrieved his pajamas for him.

“I can do it,” he whispered.

“You can, but you won’t.” Danneel changed his clothes as he sat there. Standing up to pull his pajama bottoms on, he hugged her again. “Go take a nap, babe.” His wife pulled back the blankets and walked to her closet. He saw her walk back with an old teddy bear with its nose ripped off. “Here, Mr. Teddy will help.” Blankly he laid himself down.

“I don’t need it,” he tried to refuse.

“Yes, you do. I’ll put him right here for you. Rest,” Danneel put the bear in her place on the bed. “Sleep.” She kissed his nose and left the room.  

_________

Jensen walked down the stairs at ten in the evening after his nap.  At the same time, YN walked inside with her FBBC employee tshirt on.  

“How come you’re home so late? Weren’t you here when I came home?” Jensen ran a hand over his tired and groggy face.  

“Someone called out.  Had to waitress tonight.” She threw her bag against the wall and followed Jesen into the living room where they crashed on the couch.  “You okay?”

“Yeah. I think so.  How’d you do serving?”

“I’ve been doing it on and off.  I know the menu and all that.  It was fine.”

“You have?” Jensen looked to her.

“Yeah. You’re deflecting.  You’re really tired.” YN observed his body language. “Panic attack, I’m guessing.”

“How did you know?”

“You were tired.  You never get tired.  And it’s really hard. At least sometimes.” YN shrugged.  

“Yeah. I needed to sleep.”  

���It’s okay.  Sometimes that’s a good thing.”

“I cried, and it’s exhausting.  I don’t cry.” Jensen dismissed her.

“Jensen.” YN caught his attention.  “Crying isn’t bad and you know it.  I’m not having this conversation with you.  Glad you’re okay though.”  YN hugged Jensen’s side.  

“Sorry.  I wonder where Dee went.” Jensen looked around him.  

“Padalecki house.  She and Gen were going to do a craft or bake or something.”  YN stated.  

“Maybe they made me pie,” Jensen grinned.  

“Selfish, much?” YN giggled.  

“You should go to bed.” Jensen told her.  He felt her relax against him.  

“It’s Friday!  I’m fine.”

“You’re falling asleep against me, I can feel you.”

“Can we watch a movie?  I know you’re going to be up a while.”

“Yeah, fine.  Braveheart?” Jensen suggested a movie.  

“That makes me nauseated. Let’s watch something funny. Minions?”

“Ugh.  Fine.” Jensen playfully rolled his eyes.  “Get it on the screen.  I’ll make some popcorn.”  Jensen stood up and left the room.  

—————

“Bed, both of you,” Danneel nudged the two on the couch. YN startled awake. Jensen felt YN move away from him.

“Huh?”

“Bed. Come on.” Danneel put her hands out to help YN and Jensen off the couch.

“Good night,” YN walked up the stairs.

————

Jared was sitting at the kitchen island when YN entered.

“Hey Pads,” she sighed.

“Morning, we’re going for a run, you wanna go?”

“Yes, she’s going. Get changed and brush your teeth,” Jensen answered for her. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You make me go to therapy, I want you to get your energy out. I’d say fair trade,” he devilishly smiled.

“Come on, Jensen,” YN whined.

“I’ve seen you getting anxious. I know your counselor told you it would be good for you. Come on, get your stuff. 2 minutes.”

“Whatever,” YN turned and trudged up the stairs.

The two grown men chuckled.

“Let’s go!” Jensen yelled up the stairs. YN came barreling down.

“Do I have to?” YN groaned sarcastically.

“Yes,” the boys answered in unison. She grinned.

________

“I gotta walk and take a break, I haven’t ran in a while,” YN huffed.  She slowed on the trail.  

“Nuh uh.  We’ll slow down.  We gotta keep going though,” Jared stated.

“I haven’t run hundreds of miles like you two.” YN defended herself.  

“Yeah, me too.’ Jensen slowed.  

“Come on, bud,” Jared encouraged.  

“No, I can’t.” Jensen’s breath quickened.  Jared, ahead of the other two, didn’t stop but asked them to keep going.  

“Jared, stop.”  YN called.  The tallest one turned around.  “Jensen!” He ran to his friend who was grabbing at his own chest.  

“Panic attack,” YN told Jared.  “Had one yesterday.”

“Okay, buddy.” Jared said calmly. “Give me your jacket, YN.” YN pulled the piece of clothing from around the waist and lied it down and put it against a tree.  Jared slowly helped Jensen lean against it so that the shirt was like a barrier between his head and the bark of the tree.  

“Ughnf.” Jensen stated.  

“I know.  Feel the dirt.  Squeeze my hand,” Jared prompted.  YN watched as Jensen grabbed the granules around him.  “Ground yourself,  No, don’t close your eyes.  Look at YN.  Tell me how she’s feeling.”  YN took her cue to smile.

“She’s happy.”

“Good.”

YN made a silly face, and Jensen laughed.  

After a few minutes of resting and help from YN and Jared, they pulled him up off the ground.  Jared dusted Jensen off.

“Okay, let’s go.” Jensen started running ahead of them.  

“No, dude.  We’re walking. Don’t act all tough.” Jared caught up with him.  

“Sorry.”

When they arrived back at the Ackles’ home, Danneel saw Jensen’s face.  She looked to Jared, and he nodded.  

“Go take a shower, babe.”

“I- I, I can’t.” His hip hit the corner of the table and lost his footing.  He caught himself before he fell.

“Come on. “ Jared put his shoulder under Jensen’s armpit and guided him to a downstairs bathroom and sat him on the toilet lid.  

“What happened?” Danneel walked to YN.  

“Panic attack on the trail.  He will be okay.”

“I know, it just makes me sad that he is going through that.”

“Dee?” Jared walked back into the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“I think he needs to sit for a second, but he’ll need help cleaning up.  He’s out of it, but he’s okay.  Can I grab a shower upstairs?”

“Yeah. ‘Course.” Danneel passed Jared and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thank you.”

As she left, Jared looked over to YN.  

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yep, I’ll be fine.  I’m going to go clean up in my room.” YN shrugged.  “See ya in a few.”

The two walked to their respective showers.  

“Jensen, I’m going to help you,” Danneel started to undress him.  He moved his foot out of the way, scaring her, making her fall on her rear.  “JENSEN!  You almost kicked me!”

“I can’t… I don’t know what’s going on with me!” Danneel slowly stood up and watched Jensen’s facial expression.  She opened her arms and pulled his head and neck against her abs to hug him.  She felt him relax against her.  

“Breathe.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine.” Danneel backed away and lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head. When he was ready, she guided him into the shower and sat him on the in-shower seat.  Danneel washed his hair and body, rinsing him off after.  “There, all done.”

After everyone had showered, they all got comfortable on the couches in the movie room.  

“Hey,” YN whispered.  

“What?” Jensen looked at her.  

“Feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Good.” YN leaned against his shoulder.  Before the movie started, she fell asleep.  

“Looks like we tired her out,” Jared looked past Jensen and Danneel to YN in the last recliner.

“It was good for her.  Let’s enjoy the movie, she’ll be fine there.” Danneel smiled.  

________

YN woke up lying over on the console of the recliner.  She walked into the kitchen, seeing the sunlight flooding the room.  

“Morning, sweetheart. It’s Noon.”

“Hey, Jens.” YN smiled.  “You awake?” She giggled.

“Sort of.  Slept really good last night.”

“Come here,” she wrapped her arms around him.  “Glad you slept well.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to freak out yesterday.”

“Stop it.  You don’t get to apologize for stuff like this.  It isn’t your fault, and you know it.”

“You’re too smart, you know that?”

“Shut up and drink some coffee.” YN offered a cup to him.  Jensen nodded.  

YN’s phone rang.  They both jumped.  

“Yeah?” YN answered.

“Hello, sister.”

“Kenyan?” She gasped. Jensen turned to her immediately.  He walked so that he was standing next to her.  “How did you get this number?”

“The brewery is a nice place.  Not very secure though.  Let’s just say I should be the head of the HR department.  Got lots of information in here.  Your application is terrible though.”

“I was fifteen and a half when I did it, not exactly an award-winning speech was needed for the job, asshole.”

Jensen grabbed his phone to call the police when he heard where the half-brother was.  YN grabbed his wrist and shook her head at him.  He narrowed his eyes at her, curious.  

“He’s not there, he’s just messing with me,” she wrote on a napkin.  

“What’s it like to be rich?” Kenyan scoffed.  

“I am not rich, and just because someone may have money does not mean they are jerks.  What do you want, Kenyan?”

“Just to let you know that I know about the video.  And… your new dad should have burned.”

Jensen tightened his jaw.

“Shut up, Kenyan.”

“You better call 911. It looks like the storage room might have a little damage.”

Kenyan hung up.

YN gasped for air. Jensen pulled her into a hug while calling the police, telling them what had happened. The original investigator told them to meet him at the brewery, it had been, indeed, damaged.

—————-

“No.”

“I need to go.” YN stopped her foot. “He tried to kill you!”

“He thought it was you. You are not going with me. Stay at the house. I called Jared and Gen. They are coming over to be here with you and Dee. I need to go. I’ll be back in a few hours,” he stepped toward her. “I love you.” After quickly kissing the top of her head, he put a jacket over his shoulder and left.

“Ass.”

“He’s just trying to protect you,” Danneel said.

“I can do it myself.”

“You’re used to doing it on your own. But you aren’t going to.”

“Whatever.” YN started to ascend the stairs.

“Don’t you dare think about sneaking out either!” Danneel yelled after her.

“With three wardens, how could I?!” YN shouted back.

“Ugh.” Danneel groaned. “Come on, baby,” she whispered sadly.

———-

Jensen arrived back home in the late evening.  

“Hey, everybody,” he smiled and threw his keys on the entry table.  

“Did they get him,” YN stood from where the group was sitting in the living room to stand facing Jensen.  

“Yeah, they did.  He was hiding on the property. They tracked him by his boot prints or something.”

In relief, YN reached for Jensen and squeezed him tightly.

“Hey, it’s okay.  It always was.” Jensen reassured her.  

“This,” she yanked up his long-sleeved henley, “proves that it wasn’t.” YN pointed to his scars.  

“Okay, okay,” he calmed her.  YN backed away when Danneel walked over and side-hugged her husband.  

“How’s the storage room?”

“No real damage.  Weird that Kenyan would say that.  Maybe a few scratches.  He carved his name into the building, that’s all we could see.” Jensen shrugged.  

“I’m sorry,” YN whispered and started to turn back toward the couches.  Danneel stepped in front of her.  YN stopped and looked down.  

“It’s not your fault.  Just because you’re related to him doesn’t mean you are to blame.  Now that we know everyone is safe, why don’t you take a bath and go to bed, huh?”

“I’ll try.” YN said with a sigh and waited until Danneel moved out of the way and then ascended the stairs to her room.  

After she left, Gen asked if Jensen was okay.  He sat down across from Gen and Jared.  

“Yeah.  I just don’t get it.  He plays mind games… why?  She hasn’t done anything.  The brewery is fine though.”

Danneel sat next to him on the couch and looped her fingers into his.  

“Some people are shitheads,” Jared affirmed and took a sip of his beer.  

“Yeah…” Jensen sighed. He wrapped an arm around Danneel and leaned against her.  “I’m tired.”

________

“Hey,” Jensen nudged YN. “Wake up.”

YN sat up on the couch in the brewery breakroom.  

“Huh?” She wiped her eyes.

“Why are you sleeping here, kid? And who’s Kenyan?”

It was all a dream.  

FEELING THE BURN

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[the-fiction-witch]

Wait What?

REAL LIFE

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING SWEET AF

I smiled as I stood Infront of my mirror drying and sorting out my hair so I looked presentable as I did my phone went off.

Y/n <3 :

Just doing my make up should be ready soon

"Ahh fuck" I said out loud

Thomas:

Okay Hun, on my way

Even if I lied fixing my hair and grabbing my clothes knowing she'll get worried if I'm late I made sure I looked good and went down grabbing my keys

"Ahh!! Fuck! Fuck shit! Almost forgot" I said almost slapping my fucking self for being so dump, running back upstairs and digging thought my bedside draw desperate to find what the hell I did with it, grabbing the little blue velvet box opening it to make sure it was still in there, seeing the light twinkle in the rows of diamonds in the beautiful gold.

I shut it back up hiding it in my pocket and going down locking up and getting in my car.

I began the drive over to y/n's parents place, she had gone for the weekend just mostly to spend some time with her family but I used it as the perfect excuse to have her out the house so I could get ready.

I've wanted to propose to y/n honestly since I met her, but it never quite seemed right and then once we moved in together it was kinda a nightmare to plan in anyway without the suprise getting ruined.

But luckily she went away all weekend, the house empty, free to walk around the shops on my own so I could sort it all out, and it so happily fell on our anniversary.

I had been looking for about the last year for a ring and I found a little shop not to far away that had a nice one, I didn't care what it cost it was for y/n after all. So I reserved it a few months ago while we where out shopping and she conveniently went for a wonder in lush on her own, and I picked it up yesterday then booked us a nice dinner the same place I took her on our first real date, so I headed over to pick her up and I pulled up at her family house and as soon as I shut the car off and got out she opened the door in her perfect purple dress her make up and hair done so perfect she looked like a beautiful painting from a thousand years ago I felt so happy to see her I almost ran over hugging her tightly

"Whoa... Hi Thomas" she laughs giving me a little cuddle to

"You look so beautiful" I told her kissing her head "I missed you so bad"

"Aww thank you Tommy, I missed you too" she smiled pulling away and giving my lips a tiny kiss "come on Mr else we'll be late" she warns heading to the car I smiled widely and got into the car with her starting to drive off often resting my hand in her leg as I drove "so why exactly are we going so fancy?" She asks

"Well it's our anniversary" I laughed

"Thomas I'd have thought by now you'd have known I'd rather just cuddle up on the sofa with some popcorn and pizza watching breaking bad or something" she explained

"I know... But sometimes it's fun to be fancy" I smiled as we got to the restaurant and I parked up "umm I love you so much" I smiled giving her a kiss

"Aww I love you too, what's going on?" She asks

"What why do you ask?" I asked in panic had I given it away that early?

"Your being very... Affectionate today Thomas, and very lovey dovey" she explained "I'm not used to you being like this" she explained as she got out and I followed her

"Maybe I just really missed you?" I suggest

"I was gone two days Thomas" she laughs

"Well maybe I just want to show my love for you a little more" I shrug

"Alright, but I'm watching you Sangster" she warns as she headed inside.

We sat to dinner at the same table we had our first date laughing and talking about everything and nothing as we had dinner I couldn't help smiling as I looked at her as we waited for dessert while she had some wine I got the box out of my pocket fiddling with it trying to find a step in the conversation to maybe get onto the topic, or somehow get into that idea

I really should have planned this more.

I have to lead into it don't I?

I can't really just shove the box on the table and just pop the question.

"Sally? Will you marry me?" A voice asked from across the restaurant we both looked and saw another couple on a date and he was on his knee proposing

Oh thanks dude now I have to follow you!

He probably practiced, Or atleast wrote it down.

"Aww that's so sweet" y/n smiled

"Yeah, really sweet" I smiled trying to not act nervous

"What a beautiful way to propose" she smiled Dam I wasn't watching what he did! Should I have been? Or would that be copying? "Umm don't like the ring thought" she says turning back just as dessert got here

"Oohh what kinda ring was it? I didn't really see?" I asked

"Diamond, I know there a classic and all I just really don't like them" she explained

And I had a heart attack fiddling with the box in my hand containing the diamond ring I had bought

"Wait what?" I asked trying not to cry or scream

"I don't like diamonds, the whole thing is a old marketing campaign, and that's before you even look into the ethics of diamond mining. Plus honestly I just find them boring there just sparkly and white, I can get that from glass" she explained

"So... If someone where to, buy you a diamond ring? You wouldn't like it?"

"I'd like it, hell I'd be engaged they could ask with a haribo ring and I'd be happy" she laughs "but I think I would be a little disappointed, that they would do something special for me" she explained eating her cake "why?" She asks

"Just curious that's all Hun" I said faking a smile putting the little box back in my pocket "so... If let's for theory's sake, I was going to propose? What kinda ring would you want?" I asked

"If you where?" She asks slyly licking her spoon

"If I was" I smiled

"I don't know... Maybe a gem of some kind? Or a rare stone? Ooohh or like an opal I love opals there all so different and interesting" she explained

"Okay" I nodded

"Why are you so curious anyway?" She asks

"I don't know, I like finding out new stuff about you" I smiled.

I yawned sitting up having a stretch rubbing my eyes after being up so late last night, I looked over to the other side of my bed looking at y/n perfectly sleep.

Ummm you where meant to be my finance by now, I sighed looking at my jacket from last night still with that box in my pocket, I was mad at myself

I should have known that, instead I wasted that whole night because I bought the wrong thing. I smiled seeing her sleeping so I gave her some kisses

"Umm... Good morning" she yawns

"Good morning," I smiled kissing her "hun I'm gonna pop out okay? We need milk" I told her

"Okay Thomas" she yawns so I got out of bed and got dressed hiding the box in my pocket and heading downstairs I know she'll be fast asleep again I went to the fridge pouring away some milk so I had an excuse to go buy more. I went out locking the house behind me and hurrying off in my car to the jeweler I bought the ring from.

The second I step thought the door I think she could read my emotions and the fact I had the box in my hand likely gave her a clue why I was there.

"Oh darling, did it not go to well?" She asks

"Not exactly" I told her

"What do you mean?" She asks

"Look it's kinda complicated but long Story short I didn't ask because... She kinda mentioned she didn't like diamonds very much so is there any kind of way I could maybe trade this one in and get a different ring that's not a diamond?" I explain

"Well most if not all engagement rings are diamond" she says

"I know but it doesn't have to be a engagement ring just a ring that's not a diamond" I explain

"Did she say anything she did like?' she asks

"She likes opals" I told her

"Opals? Ahh I think I have something" she says taking my ring box and going into the back a moment before coming out with a luxurious tray of rings all with different sizes, shapes and colours if opals I saw one that caught my eye, a black and blue sort of colours and I think it clicked

"Yeah that one" I told her

"Your sure this time?" She laughs

"Positive" I laughed she checked and it happened to be the same price as the original ring I got so she swapped the ring in my little box and she smiled at me

"Good luck"

"Thanks" I blushed taking it home hiding it in my pocket as I came in and I saw her sat in her pjs watching TV "hi Hun I'm home"

"Hi, did you get milk?" She asks

Fuck! I knew I forgot something

"Uhh no they where out" I told her

"What took you so long then?" She asks

"I was Uhhh driving around looking for milk, can't fine any seriously it's a UK wide milk shortage" I lied

"Okay" she laughs

"Uhh Hun? You wanna go for a walk in the park?" I offer

"Aww okay" she smiled giving me a kiss and running upstairs to put a dress on.

We walked around the park for a while hand in hand chatting about things and looking at the sweet flowers till we stopped in the summer sun perched on a little water fountain people often throw pennies in I looked at her sweet face, hardly any make up her hair a little messy from the breeze, I squeezed her hand and she looked at me

"Hi Tommy" she smiled kissing my cheek

"Hi Hun, look I need to talk to you about something important" I told her and she looked worried "it's nothing bad don't worry" I laughed kissing her nose I kept hold of her hand Moving to kneel on the gravel and grass and she looked confused

"Thomas... What's going on?" She asked

"y/n from the second I saw you I wanted to ask you something, and I knew I couldn't because I literally just met you and it would be really weird. But I never stopped wanting to ask you, sometimes I actually thought you where trying to stop me from asking. But with everything we've been thought together, and having just had our anniversary... I think it's time I finally actually ask you rather then just thinking about it" I told her

"What?" She asked almost in shock as I got the little box from my pocket

"Y/n, your my world, everything I've ever wanted, and I know your just gonna argue it's just a bit of paper or its just a bit if jewelry but...I truly love you, crazy little sinic and all my darling. And if you'll have me? I'd like to be with you for the rest of time"

"Thomas what's-" she began as everyone was clearly now looking at us as it became obvious to everyone else in the park what I was doing

"Y/n, I'm asking you to marry me" I laughed showing her the ring "so?" I asked as she hadn't said anything

"Ohh Thomas of course I will" she smiled hugging me tight I hugged her tighter then I ever had before kissing her soft lips between tears of joy till I pulled away and helped her put the ring on "for the record... I knew" she laughs

"What?" I asked

"I knew you'd been wanting to ask for months," she laughs "I assumed it would have been last night, what did you leave the ring at home or something?"

"Funny story actually Hun"

"Oh?"

"I almost did leave the ring at home but... It was a uhh a diamond engagement ring, and when you said I just felt bad so I traded it for one you would like" I explained

"I still would have said yes Thomas" she laughs

"I know but... Now you have a beautiful ring that you like" I smiled kissing her

"I love you" she smiled

"I love you too" I told her

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 8

This chapter was a TRIP to write I have been so excited to write this chapter for a lil while now fnbdgsf

Hope you guys enjoy!! 

It was mainly Aiden and Cassie Rose who told Radar everything that had happened since they left The Shrine Of Eyes; Radar listened keenly and wrote down as much as he possibly could. He’d ask questions along the way and Aiden tried to answer them the best he could or would outright admit he didn’t know yet.

Once Radar had been filled in on everything he wondered if he could be of any use to them. Everyone was on board except for Cassie Rose, who was the most hesitant of the bunch, but Aiden told her they needed all the help they could get, and a friend like Radar with his knowledge being a part of their team would certainly be useful.

After their discussion, Gill made dinner for everybody--though Radar declined--and they all sat around tossing suggestions for what their next course of action should be. Most were picked apart or retracted, no one was certain on what to do. They had ideas such as going to Petra and seeing if she had any items related to portals, but they needed to know what they wanted. Cassie did mention Petra trades items with other people; since the portal had been activated recently, she could have interacted with someone who took part in said-activation. It was definitely worth checking out.

Aiden said they shouldn’t let the books from the library sit around; they could read some before going to bed to spark ideas. While they were all grabbing a book Aiden also suggested they go to bed early. He was met with a few moans.

“I know we all like to stay up late,” Aiden started, “but we’re gonna be busy tomorrow. Plus I’ll be waking you all early.” Aiden grabbed the small journal from Hadrian’s sitting on the kitchen table.

“Come on, Aiden!” Cassie pleaded, “It’s only 8 AM...ish.”

Radar jumped out of his seat, “Have I really been here for nearly 4 hours?!”

He collected his clipboard and pen and held them tightly, hurriedly making his way to the door.

“I apologize for taking so much of your time. I didn’t intend on staying for so long.”

“Radar, don’t apologize.” Aiden said, catching up with his finely suited friend and placed his hand on the door’s knob. “If we didn’t want you here, we would’ve said something.”

Radar glanced at Aiden, who wore a reassuring smile, then to the group behind him. He caught glimpses of Cassie’s look of annoyance before Stella stepped in the way,

“You asked for information and we provided. I believe that’s time well spent!” Stella chimed with certainty. Aiden nodded along to her statement.

“Time flies when you’re having a crisis.” Maya commented, her arms crossed as she leaned against the couch.

Radar nodded and took a deep breath. Aiden opened the door, letting in the crisp air that the early morning offered into their stuffy house. The sky was a calming light blue, not nearly as intense as it’d get in the early afternoon. Radar stepped a foot through the doorway and was about to bid the group farewell when Gill abruptly asked, “Will we see ya tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Radar adjusted his glasses, “I’ll be coming over at roughly 7:30.”

“Sounds good.” Aiden said as he watched Radar make his way outside, “Have a good one, Radar.”

“Good day.” Radar did a small bow and began his walk home.

Aiden closed the door and everyone stood still for a few moments listening to Radar’s steps get quieter and quieter till nothing but silence remained.

“Okay. Bed.” Aiden said. Everyone groaned.

Gill, Stella, and Cassie began making their way to their rooms, each with a book in one hand. They talked amongst themselves as Aiden watched them until they were no longer in his field of view. He wasn’t expecting them to fall asleep the second their faces touched a pillow, he was okay with them staying up an extra hour if they wanted to, or if they needed to read.

Ever since Jesse had nearly destroyed Cavern City and escaped prison, no one’s been able to get a goodnight’s sleep. The group would split up and search every building, corner, alleyway, and even checked the nearby forests surrounding Obsidian Town. They’d search while the Sun was high in the sky all the way until it dipped into the east horizon. They’ve asked anybody and everybody if they’ve seen any sign of Jesse and got nothing. Though Aiden and his friends knew there were always liars amongst the crowd, you could never tell who was speaking the truth.

The past several days have been rather… Stressful. And sleepless. Heck, maybe their sleep schedule’s been butchered long before Cavern city. When’s the last time any of them slept well?

They needed the energy for tomorrow.

They couldn’t afford dozing off, getting distracted, nor getting grouchy all because they didn’t want to go to bed at an earlier time. Aiden knew he was guilty of acting in such a manner when he was sleep deprived.

“I’m gonna stay down here for a little.” Maya said to Aiden.

She went over to a chest beside the bookshelf in the living room, took out a couple of swords, an axe, and took them over to the kitchen table.

“Just gonna polish these. Maybe sharpen ‘em.”

She pulled open a drawer in the kitchen, grabbed a thick cloth--roughly the size of her hand--and sat back down. “I’ll go to bed soon. Try to read some as well.”

Aiden nodded before going upstairs.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Radar walked through the barren streets of Obsidian Town, his oxford shoes making small tapping sounds with each step he took. He had started creating his schedule for tomorrow; helping Aiden and doing a tour all in one day would be no easy feat, but nothing a little planning and organization couldn’t fix.

Radar read what he had written down aloud, “At 5:30 I’ll wake up, I should be cleaned and dressed by 6:00… I’d have enough time to have a proper breakfast before meeting with Aiden...”

His voice dwindled and he began tapping the pen against his chin, resisting the urge to chew on the end of it like he usually did. He couldn’t recall what Aiden, Stella, or anybody had planned for tomorrow. Was their next step even decided?

He continued to stare intensely at the unfinished list, walking aimlessly as he thought to himself, ‘They did mention going to Petra’s… Her place is rather far from the town but if our time is used wisely, we should be left with enough time for the tour.’

Radar had never been to Petra’s home before, he only knew it was a distance away when Petra told him herself while visiting a few months ago. If he recalled correctly, her house was in the northwest forest by the mountains. Shouldn’t be too long of a walk.

Hopefully they’d only be going to Petra’s tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to save the tour for another day if Aiden and his friends decide to pile on more trips. Jesse and Olivia need to get home, after all.

Radar began clicking his pen at a steady pace, ‘Back to their universe…’

Seeing the two of them was a shock; he was amazed to see a deceased friend back in tip-top shape. Maya, Stella, Cassie, Gill, and Aiden all spoke of how they felt dissociated with Olivia and--as bitter of a taste it left in his mouth--he had to agree. The Olivia he saw back at the house was more like a stranger who looked identical to their Olivia. Of course, seeing her and knowing she’s from another universe fascinated him nonetheless.

His encounter with Jesse? A near heart attack experience, to put it nicely.

To see someone share the appearance with such a… Such a despicable man, while wearing a genuine, welcoming smile sat terribly with him. A part of his brain was shouting this was deception, yet no alarms went off.

But he was still Jesse. Radar knew he wasn’t the Jesse he knew but he was still Jesse. Running into him like that… Running…

Radar’s hands started becoming clammy.

‘Stop thinking about it.’ He told himself. He held his breath and gripped the clipboard tightly, hoping it wouldn’t slip from his grasp as he forced his mind to search for another subject.

A question popped up: ‘What would the tour consist of?’

Radar’s eyes brightened and he unclenched his jaw. He took a moment to observe the area around him for a spark of inspiration, Obsidian Town was the home to many and contained a rich history of their world. St. Stephen’s Library would be a wonderful place to start off! On their way there, they could stop at some of the monuments scattered throughout the town and he could explain what they represented!

His eyes drifted to the left where the town’s park entrance stood; a wide arch made of cool gray bricks which were cracked and moss covered. Perhaps he, Olivia, and Jesse could stroll through and he could answer whatever questions they had.

Nobody was at the park. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the place completely empty.

He looked around the rest of the town and realized he was the only one outside, though deep down inside, he knew he was never alone. Everyone else was closing their stores for the day, finishing their dinners, getting ready for bed… The world was a much different place under the Sun and it’s plain sky compared to the lively, colorful evenings.

A bird flying by caught his attention, his eyes followed and watched the creature as it sat in its nest on top of the roof of one of the many stores, singing its song.

Everyone was ready to sleep yet the rest of the world’s creatures seemed wide awake.

‘You should be going home.’ A voice in his head said.

He should. He can plan the rest of the tour before bed, or--worst case--tomorrow.

Regret filled his mind when he started walking as the thoughts of Jesse and his universe were starting to come back. It wasn’t the… ‘Good’ Jesse he was worried about, but his mind would go from that Jesse to theirs and he didn’t want to work himself up over nothing.

Radar forced his hand to write whatever gibberish came to him, his pen was getting coated with sweat. Why did he have to remind himself of Jesse?

He kept walking. The world was becoming noisier. The pen would scrape the paper as he wrote nonsense, the light breeze which swayed the trees started sounding like a windstorm, the chirps of bugs and birds blared in his ears, even the tapping of his own shoes were getting distracting.

Radar tried to block out the noise but then he noticed… The tapping didn’t sync up with his steps.

Was he hearing things incorrectly?

He began walking faster. So did the tapping. It still didn’t sync.

Something was wrong.

Radar held his breath and gripped his clipboard.

He spun around and let out a cry, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest.

Jesse jumped as well, taken aback by Radar’s reaction.

“OH MY--” Radar held the board to his chest and shut his eyes tightly, “You scared me!”

He took in mouthfuls of air, trying to settle his pounding heart down.

And he thought the first encounter with Jesse was terrifying.

“One moment. One moment.” He told the brunet, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

Jesse stood perfectly still, his hands held behind his back as if patiently waiting for Radar to collect himself.

Radar opened his eyes, pushed up his glasses, and took one more deep breath.

“I apologize,” He started with a shaky voice, “I didn’t--I thought Aiden said… He said…”

Radar found himself stumbling over his own words. He attempted to rephrase the sentence, but all he could manage to do was repeat “I… I-I…” over and over again.

He was waiting to calm down again, for his heart to beat regularly, for his voice to return to it’s usual flatness. But it didn’t.

Something is wrong.

Beads of sweat formed on his face and his body began to tremble as if freezing.

As realization seeped into Radar, Jesse’s mouth curled. His smile got bigger and bigger as he peered into Radar’s fear-filled eyes.

“What did Aiden say about me?” Jesse asked in a curious tone with the mocking smile. He leaned forward while remaining in place, hands still behind back.

“N…” Radar struggled to speak, “Nothing--None of your concern!”

He should run. He needs to run. Aiden’s would be the safest. But Jesse’s right there. Right in front of him. Radar couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He can’t.

“Really?” Jesse clutched at his chest, “I’ve been gone for a whole week and Aiden hasn’t said anything about me?” He said in that sham of a sad tone Radar was all too familiar with.

Stop looking at him. Stop looking at him. Think straight. Do something. Look away. Do something.

Radar forced his head to the right, facing away from him, but he could still see the vibrant red straps of Jesse’s suspenders out of the corner of his eye, tempting him to look back.

Jesse brushed aside a long curl of hair in his face, “What were you doing at Aiden’s? Must’ve been important. Or maybe!” He recreated Radar’s pose; pretending to clutch a board and  looked in another direction with a terrified expression, “It’s the only place you feel ‘safe’ in! The big, strong heroes will protect you from all the eyes!”

“I don’t--I--” Radar pushed past the ridicule, “How do you know I was with them? Were you watching us?” He tried to steady his voice.

Jesse’s faced him again, “Not this time.”

Radar flinched and covered his face with the board on command.

Jesse stepped closer, Radar stepped back.

“I could hear your shrieky voice from across the town,” Jesse’s once mocking--though still expressive--tone had been dropped. “You could put it to use and tell me what you were doing.”

“If you… If you’re so interested,” Radar tried to gather as much courage as he could from his quivering body, “Why do--Why don’t you ask Aiden yourself?!”

“Hm.” Jesse took a step back and thought to himself. “Not a bad idea.” He shrugged and spun around, slowly walking away.

Radar’s hands clutched onto the clipboard so tightly he was afraid it’d snap in two. He was surprised to see Jesse on board with the idea. When he’d get there, Maya, Aiden, Gill, Stella, Cassie Rose, they could all deal with him. Yes, yes. They wouldn’t have to stress over finding Jesse if he was right in front of them! Perfect! Brilliant! No one would get hurt. No one. Not his friends, not him, not… Olivia and Jesse.

The other Jesse and Oliva.

Their Jesse couldn’t see them.

No, no, no. If he saw either one of them--No, no, he couldn’t let that happen. And it’d be Radar’s fault. His fault. Maya. Aiden. Cassie--they would get hurt or taken or killed, this town would be destroyed and it’d all be his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault--

Jesse’s distanting steps were nearly drowned out by Radar’s pounding heart. He bursted into a panic-fueled sprint.

“NO--!” He reached for the man’s arm to stop him, but Jesse whipped back around and grabbed Radar’s wrist with a crushing grip. Radar recoiled from the pain and immediately attempted to wriggle his way out of the grasp of Jesse’s… Disgusting hand… The filth on his hands traveled up his once clean white sleeves which were decorated with strange, washed out, brown stains. Some reached the shirt itself.

“Stop dragging this out, quitter.” Anger was becoming more and more detectable in Jesse’s voice. Radar squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel tears forming. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to cry. Not now. Don’t let Jesse see. Things will only get worse. Hold it in. Jesse will get upset and leave. He should.

“If you…” Radar was caught off guard by how brittle his voice was but he trudged on, “If your plan is to c… Call me n-names and invade my personal s… Space…” He swallowed, “Th-then you’re in for a disappointment.”

Jesse was about to speak but stopped to eye Radar, whose eyes were welling with tears and mouth stuck open, struggling to say another word. He could feel Radar’s arm shaking intensely in his hand. His eyes trailed down to the clipboard, where he saw snippets of words. A small smile appeared.

Without warning, Jesse snatched the board out of Radar’s hand. Radar gasped and shot his other arm towards it only for Jesse to crush his wrist harder.

Radar needed that. He needed that. Jesse couldn’t take it--couldn’t let him see it.

“Last chance.”

“You…” Radar stuttered as he glared at Jesse, “You don’t scare me.”

Radar’s words were met with a painful punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him. He let go of Radar’s wrist and watched him stumble back.

“Not what I wanted to hear.” Jesse said as Radar gasped for air, hunched over and clutching his stomach. Jesse threw the clipboard to the ground and walked towards Radar as he gripped the fabric of his pants tightly.

Radar saw tears stream down his face and hit the ground. He kept staring at the ground. He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t. He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and tried to control his breathing with no luck.

“Are you crying?” Jesse’s face scrunched.

He came closer, “You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be. You have no reason to cry!” His voice was rising.

Radar didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Jesse dug at his legs then grabbed both of Radar’s arms, yanking him forward so they were face to face. He stared at the teary eyed mess whose body trembled terribly.

“You used to talk so much.” Jesse said calmly with a look of concern he struggled to maintain. “What happened?” Looking at Radar’s face started to boil an intense bitterness within him. He was the weakest person Jesse knew yet he was making everything difficult. This shouldn’t have gone on for so long. He should be with the others already. But he wasn’t.

And that fact alone angered him.

He didn’t give Radar the chance to stop crying--let alone respond. His dirtied fingers dug into his arms more and more with each sob let out. Jesse was sick of them. Sick of the cries. He threw Radar’s body down, sat on his legs and lifted up the top half of his body by the shoulders.

“Can’t you do anything besides crying and running away?!” He shouted, shaking the mess that was Radar violently.

Radar tried to say something back but it was all incoherent. He shook his head intensely.

Jesse couldn’t take this. He couldn’t. How incompetent can a person be? How useless can someone be? Wasted his time. His damn time. And for what? Listening to a quitter’s cries and staring at its pitiful face?

“Come on then! Do something!” He grabbed Radar’s head, nails jabbing into his face, and bashed it into the cold, concrete road.

Radar heard a cracking sound--praying it was his glasses--followed by a flash of colors. The colors came and went, everything became blurry and right before he regained his vision, Jesse slammed him into the ground again.

The pain wasn’t instant. For the first several seconds, he didn’t feel anything, and what a blissful several seconds they were. The pain started out small and more of an annoyance before it flared up, took over his head, and made its way down his spine.

‘Is he trying to knock me out?’ Radar thought hazily. His head was pounding. Half of it felt like it had been set on fire. Jesse held Radar by his hair and shouted at him. He couldn’t make out whatever he was saying. His glasses had fallen off. Radar could vaguely make out Jesse’s bloodshot eyes.

‘He’s going to kill me.’

Jesse would never.

‘He’s going to kill me.’

Maybe he wasn’t.

‘He’s going to kill me.’

Those were the only words booming in Radar’s head. Don’t take any chances. Do something. Anything.

Radar felt his head being lifted up again.

‘Scream.’

The instant his head made contact with the ground he screamed at the top of his lungs. He hated screaming. He hated it as much as crying. But he screamed. He thought his voice box would explode, that his tonsils would fly out and his lungs would shrivel.

Jesse’s body jolted and he froze.

Radar kept screaming.

Jesse shook off the surprise and immediately locked his hands around Radar’s throat,

“Shut up. Shut up.” He ordered through gritted teeth.

The screaming was replaced by gurgled attempts at gasping. Radar grabbed Jesse’s arm with his shaking hand, trying to get him off, but Radar couldn’t muster enough force. He could only hold onto the arm with a barely detectable grip as tears began mixing with his saliva.

Jesse heard a door open in the distance with voices accompanying it. Someone was coming. Even if they weren’t heading to them specifically, he wasn’t going to risk being seen.

Jesse dropped Radar and said something indecipherable before he ran off, leaving a pitiful Radar to lay on the empty streets of the town.

Radar was motionless. His hair was sprawled everywhere similarly to his body. He so desperately wanted to get up or find his glasses, but the thought of moving made his head pound harder.

The tears had slowed.

He heard footsteps approaching. He couldn’t see, but maybe that was a good thing. It’d save him further humiliation.

Radar laid still. He should stay here. Here is safe. Jesse’s gone. He’s safe. Here is safe. Only here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Maya stared at all the weapons she had polished and sharpened. She wasn’t originally going to sharpen them, but she found herself restless and had hoped this would tire her out. When she found herself still wide awake, she decided to spiffy up her friends’ weapons, she even made Stella an extra set of arrows to pass the time.

Maya wished she could’ve done something with Cassie’s axes, but Cassie always carried them around with her and insisted she could take care of them herself.

At the end of the line of weapons was the book she had picked from earlier. The book was a really pale red with a title whose words were nearly scratched off. Aiden had asked them to read; she could’ve spent her spare time doing so. She’s known Aiden long enough, he wouldn’t get upset over her not reading, but she’d feel a little bad if she didn’t do so much as peek inside of it.

Maya sighed, pushed herself out of the chair and was about to grab the book… But then she heard a sound. It was faint but noticeable. It sounded human. She listened to the sound for a moment longer until her heart came to a screeching halt and her body became cold.

‘Radar.’

She threw the door open and ran. Her shoes hit the ground and burned her feet as she ran faster and faster.

Anything in her path--people, signs, stands--was avoided on command. The layout of this town was ingrained into her brain, she didn’t need directions. Her legs would take sharp turns with only one goal in mind: Find Radar.

He couldn’t have gone too fair if she was able to hear his scream.

Maya took another right turn and saw multiple people standing and staring at a shaking figure on the floor, several feet from the park entrance. An older woman looked like she was trying to talk to it.

The first thing to grab Maya’s attention was the figure’s green suit. Her eyes widened. When she got close enough, she slid on her knees and yielded before the quivering figure which was Radar.

“What happened?” She asked as she grabbed Radar’s glasses and clipboard, her voice remained its gruffness but worry could be heard.

Radar carefully lifted his hand and placed it over his chest, his breaths started out slow and unsteady but soon sped up.

“Je--” Radar hiccuped, “Jes… Je… He- He wa… Jess--” Tears welled up and gushed down his face.

He couldn’t finish a single sentence. He didn’t need to. Maya heard enough. Her mouth hung open for a moment before rage filled her; she clenched her jaw and grinded her teeth. Jesse was out there. He was here. He could be close. Maybe she could run after him and knock him cold.

Radar’s stifled sobs washed away the red she saw, and brought her mind back to what was important.

“Radar, I need you to take deep breaths.” She said.

He shook his head recklessly, “I c… I can… ca… Can’t…”

Maya started biting the inside of her cheek. She needed to bring him back home, but he was in awful condition. There’s no way he could walk, let alone stand.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Olivia and Jesse rushed downstairs. When they reached the bottom they saw Stella and Aiden standing by the open door, talking.

“What happened?” Jesse asked.

Jesse had no idea how long he had been asleep. He was surprised to have even slept at all. One second the world was dark and restless, the next second a loud sound had awoken the both of them and the sun was shining.

Aiden turned towards them, “Maya ran out. I’m gonna look for her. You guys stay here and--”

Stella shook Aiden’s arm and directed his attention to the outside.

Maya came running in carrying Radar, his arms dangled and his face was stained with dirt and tear streaks. Jesse only caught a glimpse of the state Radar was in, but it was all he needed to see. He couldn’t believe that sobbing man was the same person they saw hours ago.

Jesse was about to ask a question but Maya ran up the stairs, shoving past him and Olivia with little acknowledgement, and went down the hallway before running into her room slamming the door behind her.

Jesse ran after her--with Olivia behind--and pressed his face against the door. He could hear Radar sobbing and Maya saying something to him, but her words were muffled.

He knocked, “Is everything alright?”

He began opening the door only for Maya to stop it with her foot. The door was cracked open enough for Maya’s face to peek through.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said coldly.

“Wh--” Jesse sputtered, “But Radar’s hurt and I wanna--”

“I know you mean well,” Maya’s voice softened, “but you’d make things worse if he saw you.”

Jesse didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t argue with Maya, she probably knew him better than he did, but seeing Radar in such a state--even if it wasn’t the Radar he knew--without knowing what had happened was going to haunt him.

Olivia heard the rushing footsteps of Stella and Aiden nearing and signaled Jesse to step back.

They both pressed themselves against the walls of the cramped hallway as Aiden and Stella skid to a stop at Maya’s door.

“Maya, what happened?” Aiden asked, looking through the crack.

“Jesse.” She answered in a whisper.

Everyone froze. Jesse’s entire body stiffened and his pupils shrunk.

He instantly zipped his head to Stella and Aiden, who were already looking at him, “I didn’t--This wasn’t me! I was asleep this whole time! I swear I would NEVER do this--”

Jesse didn’t even know what had happened, but he didn’t give either of them a chance to speak. Based on Stella’s look of absolute revulsion, he already had an idea on what they were thinking.

“It’s true!” Olivia confirmed, “He never left the bed! He only woke up when Maya ran out!”

Stella put her hands on her hips and opened her mouth, ready to go off on Jesse when--

“They’re telling the truth.” Maya said.

She shifted her head to the two of them, “I was downstairs the whole time. I didn’t see or hear any signs of Jesse breaking out. This was our Jesse.”

Maya closed the door and locked it.

No one said anything for a minute.

Stella turned to Aiden, the two were frantically discussing what must’ve happened and what to do next. Jesse struggled to swallow; his mouth was dry. He held his hands together tightly and took deep, steady breaths to calm himself down; Olivia saw the fear in his eyes.

Olivia carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, “What should we do?”

Aiden and Stella faced her with equally distraught expressions.

“We should--” Aiden paused. “We need to go back to bed. When everyone’s up we’ll tell them what happened. We can’t do this now. Not now.”

Olivia wanted to argue that it was morning, they should be figuring this situation out now. However, the desperation in Aiden’s voice told her to listen to him. She didn’t want to, but maybe it was for the best.

Olivia shook Jesse lightly, “You heard him, Jesse?”

“Mhm.” His response was rigid and barely audible.

Olivia began walking back to the guest room, dragging Jesse behind. They probably wouldn’t be able to sleep again, but they could use the time to think about what’s happened. Maybe Jesse needed the time to collect his thoughts on this situation.

When they entered their room neither of them said a word to each other, but shared the same question: How horrible is the other Jesse?

[your-worst-knightmare]

Red: Pt. 11

Masterlist here 

Huge shoutout to @purefandomsalt for the amazing help with the article in this part. 

When Jason awoke on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, he noticed two things. One: he was, for some reason, dressed in a ridiculously oversized dark green suit. It had to be bigger than Bruce’s even, Jason couldn’t deny it. And two, more alarmingly– he couldn’t remember the events of the entire night. Or the past week, for that matter. The noise from outside suggested that Bruce was hosting some sort of event though. Maybe Jason had snuck one too many drinks. Alfred would kill him if he found out about Jason’s underage drinking. No time to think about that now– bile was rising in Jason’s throat and he scarcely made it to the toilet before emptying his stomach. 

As he cleaned himself up afterwards at the sink, he stopped to stare at himself in the mirror. He was aware of the massive suit (the sleeves which he had rolled up)  on his lanky frame. But it was his hair that made him pause. Yes, it was gelled back– if not a bit messily for this early into the night, but there was white. More specifically, a white streak in his hair that seemed so… stark. Was this someone’s idea of a prank? Because he was sure he didn’t remember dying it. 

Okay, just move on, Jason thought as he washed his face. It’s just hair anyway. It doesn’t look too bad. He just needed to sneak upstairs and wait this whole party out. He wasn’t feeling so great anyway. He stole one last look in the mirror, hiking up the sleeves of his jacket again when his eyes flashed green. Jason scrambled backwards. What the hell? They looked almost metahuman-ish and he was fairly sure he was not one. 

With the green flash came an itchiness in his brain. It wanted something– havoc, carnage. Jason didn’t want any part of it. He steadied himself on the sink. Breathe. That’s what Bruce always said. 

The prickling eventually subsided, along with the green in his eyes. Jason breathed a sigh of relief. What on Earth was that? He opened the bathroom door cautiously and checked the hall for any nosy socialites. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he dashed upstairs to his room. He noted the new “injuries” the walls seemed to have sustained as he walked. Scratches and dents, ones that seemed too random to be from a single fight. What happened? 

 His room had changed too. The walls– which were previously a dark blue were now a muted grey. Most of his stuff– useless stuff that he had collected–were gone. Framed posters hung around the room and Jason was baffled that he didn’t recognize most of the names on them. Had his double life as both Robin and Jason Todd really affected his knowledge of pop culture that much? 

He opened his closet to find another surprise. All the clothes were at least four sizes too big for him. Whoever set up this prank must have put in a damn lot of time. After rummaging around to at least find some of his own stuff, he stopped. Hidden in a drawer was a small handgun. He picked it up gingerly. It was loaded. His eyes widened when he inspected the barrel of the gun. J.T. His initials.

What would Bruce say? Where had this even come from? Jason placed the gun back into its hiding place, closing the drawer. He would focus on the problem at hand. Clothes. He needed clothes that actually would fit him. 

Jason stepped out into the hallway to look for wherever his real stuff was. The prankster had probably put them in the spare room next to Jason’s– it would require the least amount of effort. Nobody really went into it anyway. He was just about to push open the door when he heard someone inside. “Hello?” Jason asked, knocking lightly on the door. Upon hearing no response, he opened it. 

No sooner had he cracked the door open when he was slammed against the wall. A girl, about his age, held a blade to his throat. She looked like she had ditched the party downstairs as well, apparently having traded in the dark green dress currently lying on the bed for a pair of sweats. Her red hair had been meticulously styled at some point, but had since been pushed back and out of her face. 

“Where am I?”she asked.

“Wayne Manor, you probably came here for the party,” Jason replied, if not as smoothly as he would have liked. 

“Wayne Manor…” she muttered, thinking. “Who are you?”

“Jason. Uh, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne’s ward…” 

She thought for a moment before letting him go. Jason inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. “Why are you wearing an ill-fitting suit, Jason?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his neck. ”I woke up about half an hour ago in this thing.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you remember any recent events, of how you got to this party?”

“No… wait, you don’t either?”

She shook her head. “Last I remember, I was on the other side of the Atlantic. I certainly don’t remember coming to this party to have a matching outfit with you.”

Jason eyed the dress on the bed. There was no doubt that both his suit and the dress were intended to be a pair. How he’d managed to get this girl to coordinate with him, he had no idea. He didn’t even know her name. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Artemis. But that is unimportant. We need to figure out what is going on here,” she said, marching into the hallway. 

“Wait wait wait,” Jason hissed, grabbing her shoulder.

“Touch me again, Little one, and you will cease to have arms.”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just– We can’t go downstairs. The press will have a field day if they find out anything is going on at Wayne Manor.”

Artemis stopped. “Fine. What do you propose we do?”

“First, let me find some clothes that actually fit me, and then we call Alfred. He’ll know what to do.”

The pair wandered through the rooms, most of which Jason didn’t even know were being lived in. Some of them had pictures of people who either seemed to age five years on camera or people he didn’t even recognize. Hell, he found some of someone who looked suspiciously like an older version of him, except way taller and more built. Something was definitely up. 

Jason finally found a t-shirt and sweatpants his size in a room that was probably meant for a vampire. All precautions had been taken to block out the windows. And it seemed like a very paranoid vampire, at that. The amount of red string in the room was appalling. “This is an odd bedroom,” Artemis remarked.

“Yeah, don’t remember it. Like at all.”  

They went back to Jason’s room to try and think through the situation. About five minutes into comparing notes, Jason’s phone buzzed. Funny, he didn’t recognize this model. There was a text from Dick. 

‘Hey, u ok?’

‘The food wasn’t that bad, was it?’

‘Dude, where r u?’

‘It’s been an hour’

‘D U D E’

Jason quickly replied. 

‘Come upstairs’

‘My room’

‘We have a situation’

No sooner than two minutes had passed when Dick arrived. “Hey, Jason what’s–” Dick stopped at the doorway dead in his tracks. 

“What?”

“Jason?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes, that’s my name Dick. Stop messing around and help us.”

“You’re a kid…”

“Your brother is quite slow,” Artemis remarked, twirling the knife in her hands.

“I’m almost sixteen, dammit. Snap out of it and help, will you?”

“Jason… you’re supposed to be twenty.” He ran his hands through his hair, still not fully understanding the scene. 

“Then why don’t we remember anything of the past five years?” Jason asked, voice rising with every word. 

“A spell, perhaps. One that sent us back to our adolescent selves,” mused Artemis. 

“Who would do that?”

Dick thought for a minute. “Jason, did you get into trouble with anyone? Did you have any information that they don’t want you to know?”

“Well how am I supposed to know, Dick?” Jason burst out, throwing his hands into his lap. “Why don’t you ask my older self? I’m sure he has loads to tell you.”

“Okay, okay,  calm down. We’ll figure this out, Jay. Just– agh,” Dick grunted, pacing the room like a madman. “Just stay here for now. We need to figure out how this happened.”

“Whoever did this is probably long gone. Unless Jason and I possessed something of importance, I can see no reason for anyone to do this other than amusement.” Artemis narrowed her eyes. “ And if it was for mere mockery, I will–”

Dick laughed nervously. “Yeah, we get it Artemis. You’re mad. We’ll figure this out guys.”

“Yeah? Then at least explain this.” He pointed to the white streak in his hair. “Or would you rather explain these,” Jason glowered, allowing the flood of green carnage to fill his eyes. “Or how about the damn gun in the closet, Golden Boy?”

“Look, Jason, when you got older, your… relationship with us wasn’t… the best. We barely saw you… and I can’t tell you what happened because of that.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Just stay here for now. I’ll get some help,” Dick ordered before stepping back out into the hallway.

“He’s lying to you,” Artemis said plainly. 

“I know.” Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to reign the green back under control. “He’s bad at it. I just wanna know who I became, you know?”

“Likewise. I will be in my room. Knock if you need me.”

With Artemis leaving him alone, Jason slumped onto the bed. His bed. The room didn’t feel like his anymore. Then again, he wasn’t even sure who he was. Maybe he just needed to deal with all of this in the morning. Maybe he would be able to remember things better when his brain wasn’t as fried as it was right now. Maybe if he just closed his eyes...

He was met with laughter. He recognized it, but this time it only seemed more maniacal. The Clown Prince of Crime couldn’t let him be even in his resting moments. All he could see was red. Blood pooling on the floor around him, the red numbers of a clock counting down, the tatters of his uniform giving way to mutilated flesh. He gasped, for air, for life, both of which he felt was being forced out of him. And then it was forced back in. He didn’t want it. The acrid, stinging, burning life. He felt alive, and it hurt. He was drowning in it, sinking, sinking, sinking uselessly clawing upward at a heaven that rejected him. The crazed laugh mocked his misery, simply cackling until Jason could take it no more.

Jason awoke with a start. He was drenched in sweat and his hands shook so badly that he had to steady them on the blanket. The damn knock on his door didn’t help matters. “Give me a sec!” he called, in as steady of a voice as he could. The clock read early into the next morning. So he’d slept through the end of the gala then. That was a relief. He dried his face and composed himself before finally letting the guest in.

 Artemis stood at the door with a laptop in hand. “I have found some information you may want to read,” she said, walking towards his desk. 

He managed a dry laugh. “I thought you hated me. Why’d you come find me?”

“I thought through some things, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I wouldn’t have trusted you without reason. Now stop whining and come here.” The Amazon slid the computer onto the table and motioned for Jason to sit down. “This is from last night. It’s from the Gotham Enquirer.”

His curiosity got the better of him and Jason did as he was told. Under the title was  a picture of his older self, a face he recognized only from pictures around the manor. He was standing with Artemis with an arm slung around her shoulder. He took a breath and started to skim through the article.

One Less Wayne Bachelor? 

By Maylen. K. Bird 

Gotham’s most awaited party has finally arrived, and it’s creating a buzz on the internet. With it’s large palace-like venue along with its impressive guests, (A-listers celebrities and high class rich folk– the entirety of the Wayne family included) it’s easy to see why. The Wayne charity gala was a stunning success for all parties involved- raising well over their aim for the night, donations exceeding half a trillion. The funds will be directed around the city to support soup kitchens, shelters and orphanages. 

However, what has the public scrambling is the unknown face brought to the gala by the elder Wayne boy. Jason Wayne, not usually known for even attending public events, brought a mystery woman to the party last night, one confirmed to be an Amazon. Quite the partner to say the least. 

Dubbed as the “lovable murderous recluse” by the youngest Wayne , it was quite a shock to both guests and reporters alike. If the piece of eye candy wasn’t enough, his plus one has us all drooling. Gothamites longing for his attention are certainly crestfallen, as finding an equal to his partner is no easy feat. The fiery-haired beauty wore a stunning outfit: A viridian halter-dress (which was worn too elegantly to be natural) matching Jason Wayne, which in itself was evidence enough of their closeness.

The two spent the entire night together, virtually ignoring the rest of the guests. Like a true gentleman, he invited his date to dance with a romantic flair. We didn’t expect anything less from a Wayne. Upon being asked about his relationship with the Amazon, the Wayne gave us this polished statement: “She prefers a more private life if you please. If you must have something, however, we met through work.” 

It is already well-known that Jason Wayne has invested much time and resources into countless charity projects. On working with Wayne,  the Amazon gave us this gem: “Jason truly wishes to help people at his core, and I only hope I am able to aid him in that. Through our work we have become very close, and I trust him with my life.” 

Albeit both very scripted responses, we managed to gather a more candid testimony from Jason’s  brother. Dick Grayson told us that the couple’s relationship has been recent news. “Jason’s never said anything about this before. He tends to be a private person, so consider yourselves lucky to even witness this. I’ve honestly never seen my little brother so happy.” Grayson goes on further, sharing a juicy timbit of information saying; “ They actually told us they were attending the gala a few days ago, we had no idea they were a thing, but Jason actually coming all dressed up for an event like this was shocking enough to stop me from connecting the dots. I’ll say it right here– I’m just waiting for the wedding ring.”

So could this be it? The Waynes' may be receiving a new family member, and to our surprise it's the wedding that nobody expected. 

Stay tuned as we try to get details on the potential wedding and this budding romance. 

 Jason whistled through his teeth, his eyes widening in surprise.. “What the hell did I just read?”

“I cannot be sure how much of this article is true or how reliable our own words are.” Artemis leaned onto the back of Jason’s chair. “But what I can take from this is that we were certainly close. In what sense, we must find out.”

Jason nodded exhaling. “Do you have any more information about me?”

Artemis brought up a new file, something obviously stolen from Bruce’s records. “I assume we really worked together through this. The Outlaws, as we are known.”

He huffed. What mess was he throwing himself into now? Nevertheless, he dove into the file. 

He had been one of the founding members of a team called the Outlaws. He was no longer Robin. The record didn’t say how or why he’d shed the mantle, but it said who he’d become. The Red Hood. Former Robin. Former crime boss. Current vigilante. One willing to cross lines. 

His team– the Outlaws– were all willing to cross lines. To spite their mentors, maybe. The lineup consisted of dishonoured proteges: A disgraced Arrow. A fallen princess. A failed Superman. A would-be-Wonder Woman. And him. A former Robin turned monster. What had he become?

Jason rubbed his face. He was honestly scared to keep reading, on account of what he might find. He wasn’t let down. The kill count made his breath hitch. He had a kill count. The Red Hood was confirmed to have taken close to one hundred lives. One hundred. He had taken one hundred lives. Maybe more. 

Part of him wanted for someone- anyone to tell him that it wasn’t true. That it was all a very elaborate joke. The other part of him knew it wasn’t going to happen. Just like how he knew deep down that his mom was really gone. And how he knew that she wasn't coming back no matter how much he begged her to. 

Artemis sat on his bed, tight-lipped and serious. Jason was sure, at least from her files, that she had only redeemed herself from the self that she remembered now. The opposite was true for him. “Are you alright, Jason?”

He wiped his eyes as discreetly as he could. “I don’t know. I don’t want to– just… I don’t even know what to make of this.”

“Sometimes death is necessary, you know.” 

“Yeah, coming from a mercenary turned vigilante. Or however the hell you see it.” His words dripped with venom and green began to edge his vision. Jason sighed, regretting his words. Artemis was going through the same thing as he was. He left the laptop on the desk and joined Artemis on the bed. 

“Sorry, just so much going on.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “We go through this together, okay?”

He gave her a small smile. “Yeah. Okay.” 

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt9: Phased

“Veronica! Hurry up!!!!!” The most common words to have come out Yang’s mouth in recent days. Day, evening, or nigh, Yang was calling her name through their living room and dining room that was completely littered with clothes on top of suitcases. “Getting dressed!” A younger voice yelled from upstairs.

Yang:Why aren’t you dressed already!?!?!

Veronica:I was, but I forgot the socks that went with got dirty.

Yang:So you changed the whole outfit!?

Veronica:Why do you sound surprised by this!?

Yang:Veronica if we miss our boat to anima I swear-

“Gah!” A curtain of blonde hair with several dark strands of black hits her face and got all in her mouth. Yang immediately backed up and looked towards the ceiling with a slightly irritated gleam in her eyes. Both of her arms went to her hips. “Really Veronica?” The young girl was trying to keep a straight face which was incredibly hard when looking at her ma’s trade mark stare upside down. Frankly she was impressed Yang wasn’t laughing at just seeing a blinking head.

Veronica:Hi.

Yang:Are you dressed yet?

Veronica:Almost. Can you hand me that top behind you. I’m not decent.

Yang:I hope you mean the purple long sleeve because the only other shirt I see is the white v-neck that I’d find hard pressed to call decent.

Veronica:You fought crime in incredibly small tights, a small jacket, and a tube top. You’re going to give me flack about a v-neck?

Yang: First of all, they were compression shorts. Second, are you trying to wear it with the black miniskirt.

Veronica:.....

Yang:*smirking* Thought so. You’re getting the long sleeve.

Veronica:*folds ears* Mom! Your wife is being grumpy!

Yang:Blake! Come straighten out your child!

Slow footsteps came creaking around the corner to show the tired faunus in her nightgown stumbling a bit. Her long hair a total mess and waving her ears hello at both bundles of fiery passion. Veronica’s arm came through the ceiling to wave back in rhythm with her own ears. Yang walked over to kiss Blake’s cheek and becoming a post for a Blake to lean on.

Yang:Sorry, didn’t realize you were still sleeping.

Blake:Stayed up.....to finish some papers. Why are you two arguing? Actually, why are you still here?

Yang:Your daughter-

Blake:Our daughter.

Yang:She’s yours when she gets like this.

Veronica and Blake:What, you mean like you?

Yang:H...Hey! Can you just tell her to dress conservative while we’re going to the coldest place ever and hurry up.

Veronica:That ship is literally here for us; they won’t leave us behind. Also please explain to ma how my outfit choices are fine.

Blake:....

Blake:Can I make tea first? Also talk to both of you at ground level? Veronica just throw on something, or nothing at really. You came out of me. I’ve made everything you got.

Veronica:Eugh, mom can you not phrase it like that?

Yang:Right? I mean I helped a little.

Veronica:Really!? Right in front of me? *leaves*

Yang:Old enough to where what you like but can’t handle a little adult humor. Oh how I mess being sixteen.

Blake:I don’t.

Yang:I doubt any member of a radical group would. How would you like your tea? Please say with honey.

Blake:Lavender.

Yang:Booooo. One day you’ll join the honey team. *grabs kettle*

Blake:Between your jokes and scuffles with Veronica about clothes I hope you know that you sound just like your dad.

Yang:Good! He raised two badass daughters. I got my hands full with just one.

Veronica:I’m coming down. Mind your heads!

Blake moves a chair and the surrounding clutter as Veronica’s legs start coming through the ceiling; shortly followed by the rest of her. She lands softly with no sound what so ever. Despite the talk about the so called compression shorts that Veronica tried to call out, she was now wearing them along with a tank top. Her tail slides up the front of it to rub her stomach.

Veronica:Geez guess I should really put all of theses actually in the suitcases now huh?

Yang:Ya think?

Blake:Do you really have to take so much clothes and fabric with you?

Veronica:Of course! I know the change of scenery will inspire me to come up with a new design. Can’t let the ideas escape from me because I’m unprepared.

Yang:You do remember you’re also helping set up and manage the tournament right. It’s not a vacation. *hands Blake a cup of tea*

Blake:*grabs entire tea pot*

Yang:......

Veronica:*smiles* It might not be a vacation but it’s definitely a breath of fresh. I plan to capitalize on it and that starts with attire.

Yang:Fair, just not that v-neck.

Veronica:Hmmmm, what’s stopping me from grabbing it right now and running away?

Yang:What’s stopping me from cutting off all the lights and wrestling you?

Veronica:I hope all the stuff on the ground. We both can’t be fumbling around in the dark.

Yang:I like my odds.

Blake:*wiping mouth* Ooooorrrrrr you can let me take a side like you both called me in here to do.

Veronica and Yang:.......Did you drink the whole pot?

Blake:Oh, sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted any.

Yang:That’s not the issue....

Veronica:Wasn’t that scolding?

Blake:Eh. Let’s focus on the problem at hand. Yang?

Yang:Y...Yes?

Blake:If Veronica were to walk around as she is right now, would you think that is appropriate?

Somehow there was a trap in this question, but Yang couldn’t figure it out for the life of her. She turned to Veronica to exam her. The girl truly was blooming just like Yang had around that age. Toned body, a healthy smile, hair, dramatic lilac eyes, and a figure that somehow managed to take a decent amount of the best parts from both her and Blake; just proportioned to the girls slightly leaner and shorter build. Yang would be over the moon that somehow every Xiao Long kid made out to be basically a bombshell. Too bad it came with constant supervision to spot the wondering eyes of others. ‘I gotta remember to treat dad to something. How’d he do this like it was nothing?’

Yang:Well.....it’s not exactly inappropriate but I wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

Blake:*Smirking* Why?

Yang:Because you know how people are! Who knows when creep might pull a stunt or she might get unwanted attention. Girls might hassle her and guys can be excessive. I just want you to not have to deal with all that because if I see it then I might fight a kid.

Veronica:I fight my own battles you know? I mean it would be pretty lame if I couldn’t. You don’t exactly pull your punches in the ring. Or anywhere for that matter.

Blake:Now for the final question. Yang, do you remember what you were when we first met?

Yang:.......I was 18

Veronica:Wait, what was she wearing?

Blake:Exactly what you have on right now.

Veronica:Seriously!?

Yang:But I was 18!

Blake:With no super vision, in a public area, and you had no care in the world. Were you worried about anyone making a pass at you.

Yang:No, anyone who tried something would’ve gotten beaten u-

Veronica:*smiling*

Yang:Blake! I thought you were gonna be on my side!

Blake:She might not be 18 but she’s also not alone. Plus yoy have worn far less.

Veronica:Did not think I’d actually win this argument. Thanks mom.

Blake:I’m not finished.

Veronica:Should’ve known....

Blake:Yang, can I talk to her one on one really quick?

Yang:Okay? I guess I’ll just go pack up then? *slowly walking out*

Blake:Hey...

Veronica:H-Hey?

Blake:Wanna tell me why you’re throwing a fuss about not wearing a purple top; you’re favorite top I might add?

Veronica:No particular reason. I just don’t like feeling confined.

Blake:We are your parents. We’re supposed to impose limits and you only have a couple. Clothes suggestions have never gotten under your skin before.

Veronica:Yeah well I suppose that’s changed a bit. What’s the point of designing clothes and going to school for it if I can’t diversify my style. Let people be left in awe by me.

Blake:Is Nicholas one of those people?

Veronica’s eye went wide before her face flushed a rosey red. Blake had hit a soft spot and she knew it. She stood up to walk towards her daughter who had crossed her arms and turned her head away to avoid looking directly into those amber eyes that always seemed to cut right through her defenses. That didn’t stop Veronica to allow Blake to pull her into a gentle embrace.

Blake:I’m surprised. I half expecting my arms to go right through you.

Veronica:Yeah well...I like your hugs.

Blake:And I like knowing your okay. I’m positive you’ll get more interest out of him by being nice to his sister then showing skin

Veronica:One of those things is far easier.

Blake:Please be on your best behavior.

Veronica:I always am. What happens is up to her.

Blake:Ver-

Veronica:I know. Inhales...... I know. Hopefully we’ll both be too busy to interact much and we don’t have to socialize.

Blake:That’s not really what I would call a solution. Going was your idea so I expect nothing but good news. I’ll be there when the actual tournament begins and I can’t wait to see how you added style to the arena.

Veronica:I gotta get there first. Which means I really need to pack all this up and get dressed.

Blake:Is that your way of saying “Mom please let go of me?”

Veronica:Such intelligence. No wonder you are the greatest high leader Remnant has ever seen.

Blake:Pfft whatever you know it all. *lets go*

They share one last look before Veronica grabs her purple shirt it winks. “What can I say? I looks amazing on me.” Blake playfully rolls her eyes and watches her daughter leap into the air and phase through the ceiling.

Blake:Hehe we have stairs!

Veronica:*muffled* And they look lovely!

Blake:Yang you can come back in!

Yang:*peeks around corner* Why do I always have to leave the room?

Blake:Because she thinks you’re strong and amazing like how you think of your dad. We both know how much you feel frustrated whenever he sees you get emotional.

Yang:*red* He’s seen me soft too many times. I’m grown.

Blake:Only proving my point dork. I know I probably spoil her too much but let Veronica spread her wings a bit. She rarely gets to do that around here.

Yang:*frowns* I know. I’m just worried she’ll spread those wings too far. There might not be enough room for anyone else. Atlas might have a new ruler by the time tournament is over.

Blake:Atlas’s loves Nick and Summer too much for that.

Yang:I never said she’d do it easily. I can see it now, a turf war that shook the world.

Blake:You’re so dramatic.

Yang:That’s why you married me.

Blake:Certainly wasn’t for your tea making skills. *darts off smiling*

Yang:What!? My tea is fine! Blake! *runs after her*

xxxx

“Achooo!!!”

Winter:That was some sneeze. The weather getting to you?

Summer:No. I’m not sure where that came from.

The two of them had landed down on the Mantle wall for several minutes now. Both under the wing of the summoned nevermore to avoid the light rain. Little was said between them after their embrace in the sky. Words was never Winter’s strongest skill; even after all these years. It was more comfortable watching the warm glow of the city lights in silence, but Weiss had given her a task. See if Summer was truly okay.

Her earlier actions definitely raised a few unsettling flags that Summer tried to ensure where just in Winter’s head. Still, Summer’s face, Winter couldn’t help but notice how solemn it was. The girl had already faced trials and tribulations no one should at her age. Winter took ahold her hand which made the girl jump slightly. She had completely zoned out for a moment but now looked at her aunt perplexed.

Summer:Yes auntie?

Winter:You were lost in thought. Where you having a conversation again?

Summer:No, I had enough of Shiva’s comments for one day. For a lifetime actually.

Winter:I cannot imagine what’s it’s like going through that. Especially for so long.

Summer:It’s no different than enteral monologue really, or the voice people have when they’re silently reading to themselves. Only mine has a will of its own. Not to mention the space I seem to find myself in whenever things get out of hand. I guess that part is a bit different from most people.

Winter:The mind is a complex thing to say the least.

Summer:Yeah, and mine is broken.

Winter:Your mind is not broken Summer.

Summer:Feels that way sometime. There’s still so much I don’t fully understand about what’s happening. Even after all this time.

Winter:That’s not a fault on you. Science is merely trying to catch up with such an unorthodox event. Just the other day Oscar and Qrow went off to find answers just for you. I believe even Adrian tagged along.

SummerReally!? Where are they going?

Winter:To see if anything can be learned from the Gods. If they manage to find them that is.

Summer:That’s....a tall order. All that for me? I’m the one who should be going through that trouble. It’s my problem after all.

Winter:This is something everyone has to deal with.

Summer:Oh.....sorry. *frowning*

Winter:That’s not what I-.....sigh, what I meant is we are all family. If one of us has a problem then all of us do and it’s no big deal for anyone to try and resolve it.

Summer:That doesn’t make it less frustrating for me though. I know you all care. I do, but there’s just something. Like a gap I can’t seem to close between myself and the rest of the world. Like I never really left that lake.

Winter:....Then lets go back.

Summer:W...what?

Winter:It’s somewhere down here right? Maybe going there will spark something.

Summer:An answer?

Winter:Perhaps, or closure.

Summer:Closure huh? (Maybe that is what I’m actually missing.) I will think about it. First things first, I actually came down here for a reason. Despite the bond and resources between Atlas and Mantle growing, there’s still plenty of people that still live on the streets. I tend to donate money when I can also sometimes I just go around the city to go buy food or warm clothes to whoever I find.

Winter:I had no idea you kept a close eye on these types of things. How often do you come down here.

Summer: Enough to hurt my grades it seems. You are the first person to catch me chain grinding attempts. Can’t believe you saw the worst one though. That’s embarrassing to say the least.

Winter:Attempts? Summer I know you’re smart enough to know what you’re doing is extremely dangerous. Not to mention illegal. What if I hadn’t caught you?

Summer:I would’ve just....it’s actually easier to show you. If that’s okay I mean.

Winter:*raises eyebrow* Is it safe?

Summer’s face scrunches up as she wobbles her hand up and down. “Safer than most of the things involving the cold. I can control it just fine.” Now it was Winter’s turn to look skeptical. This could potentially be a slippery slope their playing with. However, it was hard not to notice the slight excitement in Summer’s voice. “If you really can control it...then I suppose there isn’t any ha-“

“Yes!” Summer bounced a little at the thought of showing off. She removed her cloves and tugged her shirt down for more air flow. Winter stood beside her and watched carefully. Shiva and her powers over ice weren’t anything new but this pseudo form that rest in between the full transition had her attention. It was easy to tell Summer had been hard at work trying to find a way to turn this accident into something useful without succumbing to it. At first glance anyone wouldn’t notice the flickering in her eyes or the subtle color shifts in at the ends of her hair.

She watched her niece clap her hands together then pull them apart slowly as the cold itself seemed to be drawn into the middle. Ice crystals grew larger while expanding length wise. Summer had created another snowboard in no time at all. It might’ve been second nature to her fall all Winter can tell. And yet....“You sure I don’t have to worry this time about catching you?”

“Follow behind me if it makes you feel better. I’m heading towards the dust facility down here so keep up.” Summer said with a thumbs up and took a running start before leaping off the wall. The Nevermore swooped Winter and took off. Tailing Summer like instructed. Winter was quite surprised to say the least at what she witnessed. The rain around Summer turned to slush and ice that trailed underneath her. More and more swirled down by the base of the bored each way swayed it. Summer was snowboarding in midair and that was something Winter admitted to herself was worth showing off. From behind her it was still easy to till Summer was enjoying herself, yet also not quite how she usually would. The essence around her felt more...invigorating. Winter couldn’t help but wonder.....where exactly do Summer’s actions end, and Shiva’s begin?

xxxx

Gym Teacher: Mr. Schnee I appreciate your enthusiasm but don’t you think this is a bit much for you to handle?

Nick:Come on Coach Bree. Aren’t you always telling me to get my striking speed up?

Harriet: Yeah but...

The both of them stare at the giant track field at the back of the school. Easily three miles long and leaving plenty of space in the middle for games such as soccer or football. Also the giant paladin that is currently setting his laser sights on Nick.

Harriet:Beating a Paladin alone is a tall order. Why not take the regular physical exams like everyone else?

Nick:My schedule is busy as it is! I can’t waste two class periods on doing them when I can take the expedited test and pass automatically; plus it’s good training for the tournament. It’s just rubber bullets and lasers set to stun.

Harriet:With concussion grenades, thrusters for speed, it’s made of the finest metal, and designed to be on destroy Goliaths. Seniors have difficulty with this. I’ll admit you have skill but not that much skill.

Nick:You just don’t feel like writing a incident report.

Harriet:What teacher does!? Plus I don’t feel like getting yelled at if you can’t participate in the tournament. I’ll never hear the end of it.

Nick:Ugh, and after all that work I put into finishing that science test early.

Harriet:Sorry kid. Like I said, seniors have trouble with this. I actually let them team up for it.

Nick:That tough huh? Oh! If that’s the case then can I take it with others!?

Harriet:I’d might consider it but there’s a problem. No one your age is crazy enough to attempt this. Most of them are still working of the fat from winter break.

Nick:No one crazy enough. I think you underestimate Valerie.

Harriet:She already took the first half of the regular exam so good luck making her decide to switch up.

Nick:Crap, I forgot she had P.E. already. Man this sucks!

Harriet:.....I tell you what. Your sister didn’t show up today. Despite her absences....

Nick:*flinches* Hehe see about that... she ate waaaaay to much Christmas ham and-

Harriet:I’m in the loop on her reluctance to attend my class genius. Your mom called earlier to give me a heads up that I’d only be seeing you today. That girl is really started to throw a wrench in my planning.

Nick:I’m sorry....I know she feels awful about it.

Harriet:*scratches head* Doesn’t change I need numbers for her. Putting in zeros in grade books is easy. Putting them in battle info makes it extremely hard to plan proper routines that are challenging but not suicidal. But since you’re determined about risking safety anyways. If by some miracle you can convince Summer and Valerie to take this with you, then I’d feel more confident that I won’t send a student home with broken bones like last time.

Nick:Really!? Alright!

Harriet:That last part just didn’t matter to you did it?

Nick:No offense, but we are eople with gold and silver medals for combat related activities should be just fine. Tomorrow it is! Before or after school?

Harriet:I’m not waking up earlier to call an ambulance. After school or if you all so happen to have a free period around the same time.

Nick:After school it is! I got a good feeling about this!

xxxx

Valerie:You are insane...

Nick:Please!?

“SSSSSHHHHHH!!!!” Multiple students stared at the boy annoyed as they were peacefully trying to read. He had forgotten where he was for a moment and quickly hid his face behind a book before the librarian started skulking around. Valerie watched the boy’s eyes peek over the top of pages and waited for him to continue to make his case. This time in a whisper.

Nick:Pretty please?

Valerie:No. I had to spend my time in that stupid dressing room and listen to dumb girls have a contest over who was hotter. That is sanity wasted if I switch up now.

Nick:That’s ridiculous.

Valerie:Their arguing or my complaining? Choose carefully.

Nick:The fact that they’re fighting about who’s the prettiest when you’re in the room.

Valerie:Well played. Still not doing it. Why am I a requirement.

Nick:*grabs her hands* Because without you we’d be hard press to find someone else our grade to keep up with us. Only you can do it. You’re awesome. We both know that.

Now he’d done it. Valerie was never a person to care about compliments yet Nick’s were a bit different from most. Maybe it was that Arc charm at work or seeing Schnee eyes look so soft, but his compliments always felt incredibly genuine. It was irritating after all this time he was as good with words as she was. Murmurs reached her ears as more students started watching the two. More importantly, their hands. He still hadn’t let go. How long have they been like this?

Val’s face got a bit stern and she shook her hands free. She brought her right one up to thump the poor boy right in the nose to wipe that puppy dog look away.

Nick:Ow...still no?

Valerie:.......Fine, but I’m only saying fine because I’d be road kill earlier without you. Then we’re even.

Nick:You’re still thinking about that? I wasn’t gonna hold saving your life over your head by any means but if it makes you feel better then okay. We’ll be even.

Valerie:Good. I guess I can make a peace of my day completely irrelevant now.

Nick:You’re the best!!!

Liberian:Quiet!!!

Nick:Whoops! I should go. Thanks again!

Valerie:Sure th-

Nicholas went in and hugged her fast before pulling back and showing a gleeful grinn. Before she could say anything he was running off out of the library and more importantly, the studying students. Some of them turned their attention to her so at least she could feel their frustration. Even the Liberian shot of look of displeasure which only increased the embarrassment on her face. She had no choice but to bury herself into the text book she had been reading before things got loud. It did not stop the feeling of them staring behind it, or her face from turning red.

Valerie:(Damn it Nicholas. I’m totally getting you back for this somehow!)

xxxx

Yang:*tapping her foot* (I swear this girl) Veronica in a second I’m just gonna lea-

“I’m ready!” The girl came sliding into view with her luggage in hand. Yang couldn’t help but smile as it seemed common ground between them was found. Her daughter wore black flats accompanied with black thigh high socks and the skirt mentioned from earlier. A gap between the two showed some skin but not crazy in the slightest. The purple long sleeve shirt was worn with pride and Yang couldn’t help but notice Veronica had taken the time to make hair a little crinklly.

She paid no mind to her mother as she strutted passed her mom with her tail pulling her luggage along. Veronica was too busy already opening up her journal and going over unfinished designs.

Veronica:Let’s get to it Ma. Ship won’t wait forever right?

Yang:For your sake I hope you don’t have to kick anyone.

Veronica:Already got it covered. A little thing called compression shorts. It’s hard to tell because I’m not only wearing them. Thought it should go underneath something.

Yang:I’m gonna have to deal with that the whole ride huh?

Veronica:Oh yeah. *closes door*

Part 8

[blurry-fics]

I’ll Always Have Your Back

Characters: sibling!Tyler Joseph, family friend!Josh Dun

Warnings: Blood, mentions of violence & bullying, description of injury (not very graphic), profanity, general angst

Word Count: 3213

Request: Can I get a Tyler sister fic where something happened (idk what) but josh( basically your other brother) saved you from it and you try to pretend it didn’t happen then Tyler finds out and angst and sibling fluff at the end please -Anonymous

Author’s Note: This is also a highschool!AU. I considered breaking this up into two parts, but didn’t want to make you wait a week for part two, so instead you get a super long one shot this week! I hope you enjoy it :) (picture credit)

You winced as you brought a hand to your cheek, gently feeling around for the source of the pain. Your fingers eventually met raw skin, sending a new jolt of pain through your face. When you pulled your fingers back, there was blood smeared on your fingertips.

You bit back a sob as you pulled your knees to your chest, revealing a number of new sore spots. Echoes of the insults the girls had thrown at you rattled around your mind, sending a fresh wave of tears down your cheeks, making the scratches sting more. Your stuff was still scattered across the pavement, now mostly crumpled or ripped. At least the wind had died down from earlier in the day, you didn’t have the energy to chase your homework around the field.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Your head flicked up, looking for the source of the noise. Already, you were scrambling to a standing position and looking for somewhere to hide in case the girls had decided to come back for a second round. The scratches and bruises they had already given you were going to be hard enough to explain to your family as it was.

The figure rounded the corner before you had a chance to find a spot to hide. His mess of brown hair was a welcome sight and you nearly collapsed from relief. He came running towards you as soon as he spotted you standing in the middle of all your strewn papers.

“Y/N, there you are,” he huffed, reaching forward to grab your arms. “I heard some girls talking about beating someone up and thought I caught the end of your name. Are you ok? Is that blood on your cheek?”

You nodded sheepishly, looking up at him so that he could see the scratches on your face. He was the only one you had told about the girls who had been tormenting you for the last few months, mostly because he was the only one you trusted enough to not escalate the problem.

“What happened?”

“I-It was those girls. I was walking home and I had headphones in so I didn’t hear them coming a-and they cornered me and beat me up,” you choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t do anything, Josh. I was terrified so I just laid there and- I can’t go to school tomorrow. Not after this.”

“Hey, come here.”

Josh pulled you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle, allowing your body to relax completely for the first time all day. It was safe as long as he was around, Josh would be able to protect you.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

“I just want to go home.”

“I’ll drive you.”

Together, you and Josh gathered up all your school stuff and put it back into your backpack. Josh offered to carry it for you and used his free arm to wrap around your shoulders. You were glad he did it, though you would never say that out loud. It made you feel protected.

“Let me move the stuff out of the front seat, hold on.”

You glanced around the parking lot while Josh leaned over the driver’s side and tossed his own bag and jacket out of the way so that you could sit. As soon as the stuff was out of the way, you slid into the car and locked the door behind you. Even with Josh next to you, you weren’t running any risks.

“Go ahead and pick whatever music you want to listen to. There should also be some napkins in there, if you want to get the blood off your face.”

“Thanks, Josh.”

He nodded and pulled out of the parking lot. You grabbed a napkin out of the glovebox and pulled down the visor so that you could use the little mirror to clean your face. It also provided you with the first clear look at your face. A couple bruises were already beginning to form where you had been hit, right around your eye and cheekbone. Thankfully, you had been able to get your arms up to cover your face before they landed too many hits, but it hadn’t been enough to stop you from scraping up your cheek when they pushed you to the pavement.

“This is going to be impossible to explain to my family,” you sighed, lightly dabbing at a couple beads of blood on your cheek.

“Why don’t you tell them the truth?”

“Are you kidding? My mom would flip and call the school and that won’t do anything aside from making the entire situation worse.”

“You can always transfer. Or do online school. You can’t keep letting yourself get beat up like this, Y/N. It’s dangerous. You need to put a stop to it before it escalates more.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you snapped, flipping the visor back up. “It’s not like I want to practically sprint home every day to avoid getting verbally assaulted or beat up.”

“Why don’t you wait at Tyler’s basketball practices?”

“Tyler said the coach wouldn’t let me. Besides, what’s to stop the girls from showing up at practices?”

“There’s people there.”

“There’s people walking home, too.”

“Then let me drive you home every day,” Josh suggested.

“It’s out of the way for you.”

“I would rather drive a little extra every day than learn you’re in the hospital because some girls decided to take things a little too far. You’re like a sister to me too, you know.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, leaning forward to grab Josh’s CD case. “I’ll just keep a better eye out next time and not wear headphones.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m done talking about this,” you said, never letting your eyes leave the CDs.

“Ok.”

You eventually found something you wanted to listen to and slid it into Josh’s radio. It made familiar mechanical clicking sounds before the CD started to play.

“Good choice.”

“Thanks,” you said, zipping the case back up and stuffing it into Josh’s messy glovebox. “Hey, why were you at school late today, anyway?”

“I had to talk to one of my teachers about a project. I was about to leave when I saw those girls hightailing it out from behind the school, so I nonchalantly walked past them, heard your name and them talking about beating someone up, and then came running.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come and gotten me.”

“I’m always going to look out for you, Y/N. And I know Tyler would do the same.”

“Right.”

The rest of the car ride, which was hardly more than a few minutes, was quiet. Once Josh pulled up outside your house, you twisted back - a bit uncomfortably, you might add - to grab your backpack and pull your house keys out of it. Your siblings, aside from Tyler, would most likely already be home, but it was your goal to get inside and upstairs without being seen by any of them.

“Thanks for giving me a ride home, Josh,” you said, already halfway out the door.

“No problem. And hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Please talk to Tyler about what happened.”

“Ok,” you answered, knowing it was the only way to get him off your case.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“I know.”

Josh smiled as you closed the door and walked inside. He waited until you had opened the front door before driving off, just to make sure you got inside safe. 

Your entire body tensed as you stood just inside the door, not quite closing it yet. You listened carefully, trying to figure out where exactly each member of your family was in the house. From the sounds of it, Maddy was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework and your brothers were up in the den playing video games, like usual. You closed the door, making sure to lock it behind you, and then ran upstairs and directly into the bathroom.

“Hello?” Zack called.

“Hey, Zack!” you answered, glancing at the door to make sure it was locked.

“Oh, it’s you, Y/N! I didn’t know what was happening because I heard the door close and then someone went sprinting up the stairs.”

“It was just me! I drank a ton of water during last period and had to pee really bad,” you said, hoping it was a convincing lie.

“You’re home late!”

“I ran into Josh after school and we talked for awhile! He gave me a ride home, too.”

“Ok!”

You waited to see if Zack would say anything else, but you only heard their video games start back up again. Your shoulders dropped a little and you immediately opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing at whatever supplies you thought you might need. By the time you were done, you had a small assortment of tools on the counter in front of you to deal with your injuries.

You lost track of how long you were in the bathroom, pouring peroxide onto your cuts and examining your body for new bruises. Eventually, everything that needed to be attended to was and all of the supplies were back in the cabinet, sitting exactly as you had found them. You pulled your dirty shirt back on, grabbed your backpack, and quickly shuffled out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room.

Once in the safety of your room, you once again stripped out of your clothes and pulled on an oversized sweatshirt that you had stolen from one of your brothers. It hung well past your hands and the hood was oversized, making it harder to get a clear look at your face. You would have to cover the marks with concealer before you were called downstairs for dinner, but you wanted to try and get some of the swelling down before you did that. Your torn jeans were also traded out for a pair of comfy leggings that were less stiff when you tried to move around in them. The dirty clothes ended up stuffed in the back of your closet where your mom wouldn’t accidentally end up finding them

You were halfway out of your room to make your quick trip to the kitchen when you heard the front door open. Whoever it was dropped a ton of stuff next to the stairs with a thud and swung the front door closed. It was loud, making you jump a little.

“I’m home!” they called.

Tyler.

You immediately dove back into your room and shut the door before he could come upstairs. He would know something was up immediately and start asking a million questions, all of which you wouldn’t want to answer. Thankfully, after a short stop in his room, you heard him walk into the bathroom and start up the shower. You took this as your opportunity to run downstairs and grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer.

“What are you doing?” Maddy asked. You had almost forgotten she was at the kitchen table.

“Getting a snack,” you said, pulling your hood a little further over your face as you looked for the peas.

“From the freezer?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“That’s weird.”

“I was just seeing what my options were.”

You quickly glanced at Maddy to see if she was still looking at you. She had turned back to her homework, so you grabbed the peas and stuffed them into the pocket of your sweatshirt where they would be less visible. For added effect, you walked over to the snack cupboard and grabbed a packet of goldfish.

You walked as fast as you could without arousing suspicion all the way back to your room and shut the door again. The packet of peas was a relief on your swollen cheek, if not a bit cold. Not wanting to keep your arm up to hold the vegetables on your cheek, you walked over to your bed and leaned back so that gravity would keep them in place.

You were scrolling through Tumblr, trying your best to ignore the combination of physical and psychological discomfort from your day, when there was a knock on your door. Panic flooded through you and you immediately rolled onto your side with your back to the door, hiding your face from the view of whoever had come to see you.

“What?” you asked, trying your best to sound annoyed.

“Can I come in?” Tyler asked.

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

“About what?”

“I don’t know, but Josh told me I should come talk to you once I got home.”

“Dammit,” you muttered. “No, you can’t come in.”

“Why not?” Tyler asked. His tone had become more defensive.

“Because I said so.”

“Alright, you leave me no choice.”

You sat up at the sound of your door opening, temporarily forgetting why you had tried to stop him in the first place. Tyler closed the door behind him and turned to face you; what little happiness he had on his face was gone in an instant. As soon as you realized why he was making that face, you scrambled to cover your injuries with your hand, as if it would do anything.

“Who did that to you?”

“Nobody. I fell.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N, I’ve fallen and been shoved and tossed around in basketball and I’ve never had an injury that bad. Someone deliberately did that to you.”

“No, they didn’t. I fell on the pavement when I was walking home. It isn’t a big deal.”

Tyler crossed the room and grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from your face. You knew there was no point in fighting him, wrestling matches from your childhood taught you that Tyler could move your arm if he really wanted to. You might as well give in while his touch was still semi-gentle.

“I’m not going to ask again: who did this to you?”

“Just some girls in my grade,” you said, unable to meet his eyes. “Ty, I swear it isn’t a big deal.”

“Isn’t a big deal? Y/N, you have a black eye coming in and scrapes all across your cheek, and that’s just what’s visible. They attacked you. This is a huge deal.”

“I don’t want it to be,” you said, already feeling the tears coming. “I just want to be left alone. That’s all.”

“Hey, hold on.” Tyler bent down so that he could make eye contact with you. “Listen, I’m not going to contact anyone about this if you don’t want me to, but we need to figure out how to stop this. I won’t sit idly by while people beat you up.”

You wrenched your arm out of Tyler’s grasp and buried your face in your hands. They were shaking from the effort of holding in sobs so as to not alert the rest of your family that something serious was going on.

“I just want it to stop, Ty,” you repeated. “I want it all to stop.”

Tyler stood up and took a seat on the edge of your bed next to you. Carefully, he scooted closer and wrapped an arm around you.

“Is that ok?”

“Can you move your hand down a little? You’re on a bruise.”

Tyler did as you asked, once again checking that it was ok. You nodded.

“Can you run me through what happened?” His tone had become gentle again.

You carefully described what had happened to Tyler, from leaving school to Josh finding you and taking you home. It took awhile because you kept pausing to take deep breaths and calm yourself down enough to keep talking, but you eventually made it through the entirety of the story. Tyler held you close the whole time, waiting patiently whenever you needed a break.

“This isn’t the first time they’ve been mean to you?”

“It was the first time they got physical, but they’ve had it out for me since the beginning of the year.”

“Do you know why?”

“They just think I’m weird,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“They think I’m weird. I don’t know why.”

“Well, you’re not weird, Y/N. In fact, you’re one of the coolest people that I know and I’m glad you’re my sister. We’re going to get something figured out about this whole situation, ok?”

“I’ll talk to Mom and Dad about it soon. I just don’t want them to contact the school and make things worse.”

“I’ll back you up and make sure they don’t.”

“Also how am I going to explain this?” you asked, gesturing to the bruises that were still on your face.

That reminded you to grab your bag of peas and hold it to your face again. Tyler laughed a little as you did so.

“Easy. We were playing basketball in the driveway and I threw the ball to you, but it hit your face and gave you a black eye.”

“And the scratches?”

“You fell when I was trying to get you inside to ice the bruise. It was a rough game for you,” he laughed.

“Way to make me sound like a klutz,” you joined his laughter, reaching out to shove at his shoulder.

“Hey, it’ll get Mom and Dad off your case.”

“I suppose.”

“And for real, Y/N, I’m going to look out for you, ok? Josh will too. If you ever need us at school because you’re worried something is going to happen, don’t hesitate to come find us. Neither of us want you to get hurt and we can both be intimidating.”

“Josh, maybe. I’m not so sure about you,” you giggled.

“Hey, I’m trying to be nice,” Tyler smiled, reaching forward and pulling you into his chest. One of his hands reached up to ruffle at your hair, though it was difficult for him when your head was covered by a hoodie. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Thanks, Tyler. It really does mean a lot. Josh said he can start giving me rides home when you have practice, so I think I might take him up on that offer.”

“Good idea.”

Tyler released you from his grip. You rolled your shoulders, stretching out a few places that were steadily growing more sore. 

“We have your back, Y/N. You aren’t going to deal with this alone.”

“I know. Sorry I took so long to tell you what was going on.”

“It’s ok.” He reached out and rested a hand on your back. “It’s hard to talk about, I get it.”

“Yeah.”

There was a slight pause as you both sat on your bed. Tyler was the first to break the silence.

“Mom needs those peas for dinner, you know.”

“Well I’m going to keep using them until she comes up here and demands them from me.”

“Good plan,” Tyler said sarcastically. “Now what do you say we go play some video games while you ice your eye?”

“I think that sounds like an actual good plan.”

Tyler held a hand out to you and helped you stand up. You fell into step with him and allowed yourself a small smile. It was a nice feeling, knowing that someone out there had your back.

[thisartemisnevermisses]

Suburban Life 9/-

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: angst, fluff, death, drama, comforting, sad reader, slow burn.

Summary: Steve had his daily run every morning. While running through the streets he noticeds a house with it’s lights on. A woman is dancing to the music, while making breakfast. Two childeren join her and they start eating. Steve is fasinated with the life of this little family and even stops to withniss this suburbane life every morning during his run. Feeling the need to settle down and the one question remaining Where is the man beloning tot this family?

A/N: Thanks for the likes and comments. I enjoyed writting this chapter, a lot of fluff in it! Enjoy and would like to read comments!

Chapter 09: Slowly moving on

“Stuck on the wrong side of heaven, But I did it to myself, I did it to myself, Traded in my forever, But I did it to myself,” singing to the song on the radio, you make Steve a sandwich. Smiling to the lyrics sung by Anastacia, you can’t help but identify yourself with what is sang. The winds were changing, you were feeling like you again, starting to be the mom, you were before all of it happened. When he came into your life, it ignited your fire again, he remembered you of who your were. “And I put my heart back together, Yeah I put my heart back together”, smiling to yourself, you set the table and walk towards your kids in the living room. Hearing a thud and crash from upstairs, startles you and the kids.

“I’ll go check on Steve, Isobel look after your brother please and don’t open the door for anyone”, you warn before going upstairs. Stopping in front of the bathroom door, you hesitated before you knock. Maybe you heard it wrong, he was probably in the shower, you should disturb him. You listen if you hear the shower run, but hear nothing, not even the sound of someone moving. “Steve, everything okay?” standing in front of the door, waiting for him to answer. When you get no answer, you decide to open the door slightly.  

Steve’s sitting on the grond, his leggs sprawled out before him, his upperpiece from his uniform half undone. Seeing him that way, takes your doubt away and decide to go in and help him. “Steve you okay ?”, you ask again approaching him carefully.

As you get closer, you see the tears streaming down his face. “Steve, whats wrong, you okay, are you hurt?”, you kneel beside him. He turns towards you, barely registering you’re there. When you call his name again, it’s like someone shook him awake, his eyes becoming lively. Noticing you next to him, he gives you a small smile, but can't seem to answer your question.

Courage taking over you, you stand up and sit across his lap, your knees touching his thighs. When he notices you in front of him, he hugs you. His grips tightens when he realises it’s really you, holding on to you for his life. Fisting your clothes, starting tos ob into your shirt. “Steve it’s okay, you’re here. You’re home, save”, you caress his hair.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…I’m not the person to let emotions run freely”, he apologizes to you, wiping the tears away. “Don’t you dare apologize for having feelings or letting off some steam. Yeash, If I’ve went through what you just went through. Well, just say, crying was a start of coping with it. So please, don’t apologize”, using your mothervoice, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. He leans in your touch, closing his eyes, relaxing for a minute.   

“I’m tired, my wounds will heal quickly, thanks to the serum. When we were stuck in Peru, I did most of the night shifts. When Wanda and Sam were awake, I took a quick nap, before we started moving again. When you’re sleep deprived, you start thinking about things, let’s just say they aren’t soothing fort he mind. I’m tired, sore, hungry, but mostly glad to be here, with you”, his smile lopsided, trying to hide the weariness.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, so you can eat and get some sleep”, trying to stand up, but Steve tuggs your arm, pushing you into him, embracing you thought. “I would like to stay, like this a little bit longer”, he says soft, laying his chin on top of your head. Laying your arms around his neck, you smile at him, humming as an okay, makes his smile brighten up.

“I was worried about you. I couldn’t inform you about the mission, so I didn’t know what you would think, when I didn’t show up the next morning. When we were lost, all I kept thinking about, was not being able to contact you. Letting you know I was okay, those thoughts scared me. It made me realize……I missed you, I missed the kids”, swallowing hard, avoiding eye contact with you. A blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Even when they aren’t mine and you aren’t my…..girlfriend. The thought of not ever seeing you guys again...”, Steve thightens his grip on you. Nuzzling the crook of your neck. Inhaling your sent, letting out a sigh. It was a rude wake up call, but the one he needed.

“Steve, I don’t know what to say. Sorry, seems so out of place. You had to go through this and worry about us too. You didn’t have to, sure I was scared for you. Not sure had happened to you, or was still happening to you. I can’t take those feeling away from you, I can be there for you and listen to your stories”, kissing his forehead, “Like you listened to me”, you kiss his cheek, “Like you made me feel me again,”your lips linger against his.

With a swift movement Steve captures your lips in a soft kiss. Enlightening a flutter in your stomach. Your heart pounding in your chest His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer to his chest. Raw emotions in his every touch. Coming back for air, he smiles a geniune smile at you. Taking away his shyness and meeting you halfway for another kiss, this time a passionate kiss. All his emotions are in this kiss, he missed you, needed you to be close, to be his. Not caring if your clothes get dirty, with his blood or dirt. Devouring your mouth, claiming it again and again, until you both are breathless. Laying his head against yours, “You okay”, asking while breathing heavy. “I’m fine, sorry for my meltdown,” giving you a quick kiss. “I get it, your tired, I know that feeling. It can take all your hopes, a sense of time, even your hunger away”,  you run a hand through his hair. Kissing him quick on the mouth, you stand up. Looking at the Avenger on the ground, extending your hand. “Need help to stand up?”, you quirked an eyebrow, a smug smile plastered on your face.

“Are you mocking me, doll?”, he smiles playful, “I can get up myself”, standing up gronnin with each pull on his wounds. stretching his back, from sitting on the ground for some time.

“Okay, sorry. Just wanted to offer you some help”, you say walking towards the door. Looking back at the tall Avenger trying to take off the upper part of his uniform. “Need some help with that?” you ask playful, a blush on your cheeks.

“Don't tempt my, doll”, Steve growls the last part. “Let me fresh up and I’ll be downstairs to eat that sandwich off yours”, motioning you to go downstairs. “MY sandwich, who’s tempting, who, Captain?” emphasising my, grinning while opening the door. When you turn around to make another comment, Steve throws his uniform at you. “Get out!” you chuckle, before turning on the shower and fully undressing. “The towels are in the cabinet under the sink” you yell walking downstairs.

Coming downstairs you get a questioning look from Isobel. “Steve’s tired and fell, I had to help him up. He’s taking a shower”, you answer swiftly before disappearing into the kitchen. Isobel follows you, “I'm glad he’s okay, mama. Will he be staying over?”, she asks trying to hide her excitement. “Would you be okay with that?”, you ask surprised, eyeing your daughter. “You said he was tired. He needs to sleep. You always say, that we don’t let our guest leave when they are too tired to pay attention to the road”, Isobel shruggs.

“It would mean that you and your brother stay in the same bedroom. If he stays, I was thinking that he needed a good night sleep, so he can sleep in my bed. I will sleep in you’re bed and you get to have a sleepover with your brother”, summing up the plan makes Isobel frown, “I’m not going to sleep with that goofball”. She exclaimes crossing her arms. “You can stay in your own bed and Steve can sleep next to you”, Isobel snickers, seeing Steve standing behind you scratching his neck in embarrassment.  

“Why don’t you ask him, yourself”, Alex motioning to you that Steve’s stands behind you. You turn around and see him standing there a shy smile upon his face. “He, we were just discussing how we would arrange the bed, with you staying over”, you look at Steve, who’s trying to form an answer, but fails miserably. “I suggested, you would sleep with mom in one bed”, Isobel grins widely, seeing the resemblance between her and your smile. “If your mom doesn't mind sharing her bed, I wouldn't mind”, answering back, satisfied with his own answer.

“I won’t mind, just a slight warning, my feet are always cold”, you try to play it cool, but inside you have butterflies in your stomach and your mind is racing. What would you wear, did you shave your legs, did you have morning breath? How’d you look in the morning, oh god, if he was interested in you, wait until morning, it would be over soon. Face palming yourself internally, you hope you have time to freshen up before going to bed.

Steve’s eyeing you, “Y/N, you okay?”, seeing a slight panic in your eyes. “Yes, I just remembered that the bathroom needs to be cleaned. Can I go upstairs? The kids are in the living room, they’re wachting a movie. Won’t take long”, with that you’re heading upstairs, not seeing the amused smile on Steve’s face. You were nervous about sleeping in one bed, it made him relax more knowing that. He was a man of honour, he would behave, at least the first night. Joining the kids in the room, he chuckled when he heard you rumbling through the closets upstairs. This could be fun.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse

Chapter 101:  Just a Cup

The ogres were dead. Mostly. Some he had forced back up and over the mountains to start their population over, others he'd left asleep with his special poppies that would kill them when they woke, but once again he had managed to single-handedly spare a Kingdom by bringing those creatures to their knees. The deal was complete. The friends and family as well as the Kingdom of his new acquisition were safe, and he had a new maid. And he intended to put her to use.

It had been some time since he had a maid. He hadn't had one really since Baelfire was around, and the ones who had requested the job before always proved to be untrustworthy. This would be different though. This wasn't a street-smart girl asking for a job and plotting all along to overthrow him or…what was it the first one had wanted? To be his Queen? He nearly gagged at that particular memory.

No. This girl was nothing like that one or any of the others. To begin with, she hadn't asked or expected this job before he'd arrived in that chamber. A pampered palace brat was all she was. He doubted she'd ever done a single chore in her life, let alone moved anything heavier than a book. She wasn't street-smart, if anything she was book smart, and he would enjoy watching her see that all her education had amounted to was a knowledge that was unsuitable for the life she was about to lead. She'd give it a go for a week, maybe two, then begin to complain. He'd lock her in the dungeon more and more. She'd last a few months, maybe. Then she'd probably get sick, and he'd hand her off to someone else to watch over far from her father where he could find her when he needed her. For whatever it was that he was going to need her for. Hopefully, by the time that came to pass, he'd have discerned what it was that the Seer was trying to tell him about her, what purpose she served.

She'd been a feisty little thing when he'd thrown her into that dungeon, and it hadn't been a terrible surprise to him that the woman who dared to speak with such authority over the men in her life when he'd taken her would be feisty, but he hadn't expected to break her so quickly. By the time he returned to his dungeon with the mind to put her to use, he expected her to still be banging away at the door and screaming at him. But when he arrived downstairs, the only sounds he heard were quiet sobs from behind the door. They knotted his gut. It was an unexpected, and unpleasant, reminder of exactly where they stood. None of the other girls he'd hired had ever cried. But none of the other girls he'd hired had ever been kept here as part of a deal for an eternity. As he listened each small cry reminded him that this was by no means a normal situation they found themselves in.

But that didn't mean it couldn't become normal.

The voices assaulted him with memory after memory, his own and some of theirs, that reminded him exactly why he hadn't had a maid all these years. People were cruel and wretched, and even the dullest among them were conniving and cunning. This maid hadn't come to him as ordinary maids did, but that didn't mean she couldn't be any less a threat. Now that she was here, he couldn't let down his guard as he had with the others, lest this end the same way. She was crying, probably because she missed her family and was cold and miserable, but also probably out of fear. A little fear would do her some good. He'd have to keep an eye on this one.

Without warning, he opened the door to her cell, and the girl came tumbling out onto the floor before him, a cloud of yellow falling backward over his feet. He stepped away, his first instinct to refuse any groveling that she might have wanted to do but then realized that she wasn't groveling at all. She'd merely been leaning against the door and fallen when he'd opened it. Altogether a stupid choice on her part. How wonderful for him that he'd hired a clutz.

As soon as she'd had her own epiphany of who was standing there and what was going on, she scrambled to her feet and wiped the tears away from her eyes, though he could still see the red in her cheeks and the swelling in her eyelids. Best not to dwell.

"Come! Come now, dearie, we don't have all day!" he hollered, turning on his heel and walking away from her so that she might follow. He didn't stop to check on her. He didn't slow down to make sure she was following or knew where she was going or how to get back. That was just going to be something that she had to teach herself. He didn't have time to hold her hand. His observations told him that she was a smart girl, perhaps she'd be able to use that to help her now. Her first test was going to be simple enough.

He led her into the kitchen, located just below the dungeons, and let her take a look around as he lit the fireplace. He wanted to provide her with a test that was passable, not something impossible. She jumped when he moved away from her to leave her there.

"I shall take my tea upstairs!" he laughed before he turned on his heel and left. There. A test. No Princess or King or Queen or even Prince knew how to make their own tea. He might be lucky enough to find a Prince that could start a fire, or a Princess that could pick the most elegant china pattern, or a royal couple who knew how to trade in tea and cakes and pies but learn to make it for themselves? Laughable. And yet, if she was as smart as he suspected, then she'd probably at least seen someone make tea for her at least once in her life. Would she be able to do it? Enter into an unfamiliar room in every way, find the things she'd need to make and serve tea, then make it upstairs to him on her own? He didn't know. And the anticipation was killing him.

When he arrived upstairs in the great room, he pulled a chair magically out of another room and moved it to the head of the table that he used to sit at when he and Baelfire had taken their meals here together. He sat and he waited. And he thought. It had been a long time since he'd had to share this castle with anyone, though "share" when in reference to the help was a bit much. When he was here on his own he very rarely ate. He didn't really need to, his body would live on without food whether he wanted it to or not and if he ever felt hunger, he was quick to suppress the temptation much the same way he did when it came to the old habit of sleep. But just because he could survive without food didn't mean that he had to. If he wanted the girl to stay out of his business and not cause trouble for him, then he supposed he'd have to keep her occupied. It would be three square meals a day for him while she was here, lots of cleaning which he never cared about and would probably take up most of her time, and then laundry. He hated the thought of her going into the room he'd claimed for his own, rifling through his things, seeing his private space. But then it wasn't as if he slept there night after night. And after all these years alone, technically, this entire castle was his private space. It was just laundry. She'd go in, she'd fetch it, and that was it. If he should catch her doing more, then he'd put a stop to it. Besides, he'd said "forever", but he hadn't really meant it, not about this place. He'd meant it more to keep her away from her father who he was certain would never let him anywhere near her again after this. But this job, here at his castle, this was temporary. As soon as he figured out why she was so important, he'd figure out some way to safely get rid of her that would keep the future intact and her away from her father. It was a good solid plan, so long as the Seer would cooperate.

By the door to the lower floors, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over. Well now, test passed! And promptly enough. He'd been sitting there eight, maybe ten minutes. Certainly more than enough time to actually make tea but for someone he suspected had never done it before…bravo!

Though for now, she lingered in the doorway, a tray in hand, looking around as if she were a mouse wondering if she could take the cheese before the trap sprang. Respect for privacy, in an ordinary maid that would never do, for his purposes, it delighted him.

"Come now, dearie," he called out to her in a whimsical tone meant to taunt and scare all at once. "I don't bite…often."

She jumped a bit, whatever it was she had on her tray rattled with her nerves, but eventually she appeared in that hideous gown of hers in his room with her head still held high. She'd learn.

"You will, of course, have a number of duties as my caretaker," mentioned as she came forward to set the tray on the table. He'd rather listen to himself talk than her nerves rattling his dishes. "You will serve me my meals, and you will clean the dark castle."

"I-I understand," she nodded.

"You will dust my collection and launder my clothing."

"Yes," she nodded again as she took a cup and poured the tea. Yes. Her only reaction was "yes"? She was a Princess, she wasn't going to scream or complain?

"You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel."

"Got it." Another nod. Another yes. The woman she'd looked in on these last few years was a rebel in many ways. Was she not going to have any reaction?

"Oh! And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts."

There it was. He'd suggested the ridiculous thing just as she'd taken the cup in her hands and straightened…and there it went tumbling to the floor and spilling all over his carpet as she gasped and went even paler than dear Snow White. He smiled as she stared at him slack-jawed. He'd wanted a reaction, and he got one, it was terribly funny what he'd had to do to get one though. And it might have been even more fun to let her think it was true and have her wait night after night for the day she had to do something so wicked…but he couldn't live with that look on her face much longer than it had to be there. Poor thing had bitten off far more than she could chew. If he'd been standing close, he'd have reached out to put a hand over her arm just to settle her nerves.

"That one was a quip," he assured her, trying not to laugh. "Not serious."

Color rushed back into her face, and she shook her head for a moment, almost as though she'd been light-headed, and then she did the most unexpected thing. She smiled. She snorted! Small and light enough that no one in her polite society would have noticed it, but it was there. She'd laughed right along with his joke. It was entirely unexpected. Yelling. Screaming. A delicate little nose turned up at such a disgusting excuse for a joke, any of that would have done! But a small laugh on her part and to say nothing but "right" as she located the fallen cup and stooped to retrieve it…that was uncharacteristic for the girl he'd watched. Had he broken her or not? Did he want to? He thought he did, but the idea that she might not be the person he'd watched in his ball saddened him. She'd be much more fun unbroken. He just hadn't known that until now.

"Oh…my…"

He leaned over to the side of the table to watch her when she didn't rise. Her face was twisted, nervous and sad looking all over again as she examined the cup she'd just retrieved.

"I'm so sorry, but…ah…it's-it's chipped," she shrugged turning it this way and that.

Was it? It was difficult to see in the firelight, with the jewels of that awful and impractical gown winking at him. For goodness sake, did she know how much cleavage she revealed at this angle? Holy men would have called it sinful. He wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the blush rising in her chest right now.

"Y-you-you can hardly see it!" she commented when he didn't respond. Her words drew his gaze back up to her face, twisted and worried with concern, and he had the urge to laugh, to tell a joke as he had before just to get her to laugh too. Such worry over a cup? Over something so insignificant? When she was so…

He shook his head, chasing away the haziness she'd put there. "Well, it's just a cup," he shrugged away.

Just a cup. And she was just a girl. A beautiful girl. He hadn't been caught off guard like that by a beautiful girl for years. This one…that beauty of hers could potentially be a problem. At least for the small bit of man he had left in him. In truth, he didn't even know he could make note of such things anymore. He was certain that would fade with time, but until then, it was best to be careful around her. It was best not to pay attention to firelight in her hair, or the blush in her chest, or the gentle way she smiled when she rose to pour him another cup of tea into the same cup she'd only just chipped.

She presented it to him honestly at least, a quality he could appreciate in a maid. But as she retreated to the corner of the room like a good servant to wait for him to finish his, drink he looked down at the cup...and his heart stopped.

He hadn't known, he hadn't seen until she'd presented it, which tea set she'd used. It was the one that he'd gotten when he first met Granny years ago. He always remembered a deal, but couldn't have forgotten this tea set if he tried! He'd completed a great task in order to extract something so simple as this tea set. And why? It wasn't terribly expensive or even beautiful for its time. No, he'd wanted it because of this, for this cup! The second he'd set foot in the home of its previous owner, it had called to him. It had practically jumped up and down and screamed, "take me. I'm yours!" But the first time he held it in his hands…it had been imperfect. Whole. It had been whole. And the Seer had whispered words in his head. "Not the right time", "too whole", "too perfect". He'd had no idea what it meant. After a few years of getting nowhere with it, he'd retired the set to some corner of the castle. Apparently, that corner had been the kitchen, for here it was again before him. Only this time, as he held the cup, now blemished and imperfect by a silly little chip he could repair with a wave of his hand if he wished to, in his hands the words he heard the Seer whisper were different.

"Complete, whole, perfect," she whispered over and over again. "Complete, whole, perfect. Complete, whole, perfect. Complete, whole, perfect."

Just a cup…not likely.

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Changeling Loyalties: Chapter 7

Consequences

Toby is quite happy with his life, but then the Amulet of Daylight just had to choose his human friend. What’s a changeling to do? Good thing Toby never really liked Gunmar anyway.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

~~~~

The bus pulled up in front of a vaguely familiar house. It took Toby a second to place where he’d seen it before. It was one of the houses he and Jim had passed when they were escaping Bular. He slowly stepped out of the bus into the chilly night air with the sinking feeling that he knew exactly why they’d been called here tonight.

He was right.

The inside of the house looked like something out of a slasher movie. There was blood on the floor, some of the furniture was overturned and the backdoor had been torn off its hinges. The goblins in his backpack sniffed the air and chattered in excitement.

Alfhild was already there of course. Her hands were casually shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket as she talked to a short cloaked figure. When the changelings that had been in the bus settled into a semicircle in front of them she trailed off and turned to look at them.

“Okay, Y’all!” She barked. “As you can see we’re getting this place cleaned and ready for a cover-up, but before I assign your jobs I will introduce our guest.”

The cloaked changeling she had been talking to moved forward and faced them. Their eyes glowed yellow behind their black mesh mask.

“This is Viper, she will be observing you tonight. Continue as normal but be sure to answer any questions she asks you.”

The gathered changelings shifted and Toby could practically feel the tension in the room ratchet up. Understandably too, it generally didn’t bode well when higher-ups from HQ started nosing around. Most changelings had something they were hiding so it was hard to tell what or who they were after. Toby, however, was hiding a whole powder-keg of secrets. He bit back the urge to swallow.

Kracka sniffed at his neck and Toby quickly shoved down his fear, imagining locking it in a box the back of his mind to deal with later. He had a role to play.

Alfhild was now assigning jobs. She moved to stand in front of him and he shifted to attention.

“1870, you’re in charge of getting the blood out of the upstairs bedroom- Just the one across from the stairs, the master bedroom is fine- and clearing up anything else suspicious,” She paused eyeing the goblins. “You can tell them to take care of any bone shards and any cloth or other materials that are deemed unsalvageable. Make sure they know not to mess with anything else.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alfhild was watching as Toby switched to Goblin to relay her orders. Kracka and the others were a little disappointed that they would not be getting free reign to eat anything they wanted, but relented when Toby promised to find them a treat when they were done.

The goblins scampered off and Toby went to the supply corner to grab a carpet cleaner. After eyeing the stairs for a moment he shifted forms and then picked it up.

~~~~

The room he had been assigned was decorated like a jungle. The walls were painted with trees and animals. Handcrafted cloth vines hung from the ceiling. The ones near the door had been ripped and dangled limply to the side as if something tall had snagged in them. The toucan patterned sheets had been pulled off the bed and ran parallel to a trail of blood leading out from under the bed. The smells of blood and fear and salt hung rank and yet strangely sweet in the air.

Toby swallowed, his stony hand clenching around the handle of the floor cleaner and making the plastic creak. He quickly shifted back to human form. He could still smell the blood, but at least it didn’t make him feel…

The changeling quickly shoved that thought down and took a deep breath through his mouth. He was fine. This wasn’t his fault. They’d taken a different route Bular would have gotten them. He was just being stupid. He had been on the surface too long. That was all.

He got to work. With each pass of the cleaner the blood stains became lighter. Maybe by the time he was done his hands would stop shaking.

~~~~

The changeling carefully finished the floor and made sure the vines were back in place. He tucked the last one up and took a step back. The room was back to looking about as neat as a child’s room would look normally.

He should head downstairs to check on the goblin’s they were probably getting to the end of the more obvious stuff now. If he left them on their own too long there was no telling what they would get into.

He turned around and yelped.

Viper was standing in the door watching him.

How long had she been there?

“Hi…” He said awkwardly. “Do you need something Ma’am?”

Without acknowledging his question in any way, she turned around and left.

Well that was creepy…

Toby pressed a hand to his chest for a moment. His heart was racing. He took a few deep breaths to calm it down.

~~~~

He spent the rest of the time directing the goblins and making sure they didn’t eat anything important. Once they were done, he hesitantly approached Alfhild, who was talking to Viper again.

“We’re done Ma’am. Do you have any other tasks for me or the goblins?”

Alfhild glanced at the kitchen where two changelings were working on installing a new door. She tilted her head and absently twirled one of her braids around her finger.

“I don’t believe so. You may leave if you’d like, or wait for the bus.”

Toby contemplated for a moment. He’d really rather get out of here now, but it was a long walk home and a teenager out this late would draw suspicion.

“I’ll wait for the bus,” He decided reluctantly.

Alfhild nodded and turned back to Viper.

“So… Any news on the hunt?”

Viper glared at her, or at least Toby was pretty sure she did (it was hard to tell with the mask), and then pointedly tilted her head toward Toby.

Alfhild snorted.

“Oh, please. It’s clearly not him. As vague as our Dark Prince’s description was I doubt he’d confuse slender with stout.”

“Maybe,” Viper acquiesced. (Her voice had a rumbly quality to it that suggested she was using her shifter magic to make it unrecognizable.) “But the walls have ears. We don’t want our little wolf to catch wind and hide in his den.”

They stood in silence for a moment watching as the other changelings worked on finishing up their individual tasks. Toby shifted uncomfortably.

“Sooooo….” He said finally, unable to deal with the silence any longer. “Is it just me or was this messier than usual.”

Alfhild snorted.

“Oh it definitely was.” She shifted a little closer to Toby and lowered her voice slightly. “Apparently Stricklander told The Dark Underlord himself about last night’s spectacle. He actually told Lord Bular that he’s supposed to differ to Stricklander as punishment.”

Toby winced. “Yeah I could see why Lord Bular would be in a bad mood after that…”

“Oh there’s more! Anyway he was really touchy all day yesterday. Stalking around snarling at anyone who even looked at him…” She waved a hand vaguely. “The works.”

Her lips quirked up slightly in a smirk and then she leaned forward slightly.

“Now it just so happens some fleshbag saw the whole debacle yesterday. He tried to call the police about it… Can you believe that!?” She gave a little incredulous laugh as if at the absurdity. “Naturally they didn’t believe him, but one of our agents heard the whole conversation.”

“So he’s reporting it, so we can decide whether to monitor it or… discretely remove the human. And then.” Alfhild gestured dramatically with both hands. “Lord Bular, who happens to be passing by just then, overhears it. He pins the informant to the wall and demands to address… So of course the frightened sod gives it to him.”

She leaned back again.

“Anyway we just barely had time to announce a gas leak and clear the neighborhood before Lord Bular arrived… A good thing too. You should have heard the screaming!”

Toby was glad he had not.

“Yeah… Sounds crazy!” (Did he sound too cheerful or not cheerful enough? He wasn’t sure.)

“Tell me about it,” Alfhild groaned. “I miss the good old days when it was busting people’s skulls open with battle axes and doing raids. Heck even working a trade route was better than all this sneaking around.”

Viper let out an amused huff and tugged at her hood.

“When were you planted exactly?” Toby asked hesitantly; not really wanting to know but trying to keep himself present.

“Oh way back,” Alfhild said with a vague wave, before her lips drew back into a toothy grin. “I was a Viking.”

“Yeah?” Toby could definitely believe that.

~~~~

Despite using the alley behind it as a shortcut for years, Jim had never actually been inside Stuart’s Electronics. His eyes widened a little as he tilted his head back to take in the floor to ceiling stock of various gizmos. Toby trailed silently at his side. Occasionally he would pull out his phone to cycle through the apps and then shove it back into his pocket. Jim glanced at him with a slight frown. He was about to ask him what was bothering him when a series of thumps drew his attention away.

“Customers! Welcome!”

A plump man with light skin and brown hair emerged from behind a stack of electronics at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a pink bathrobe, slippers, and a large cheerful smile.

He seemed vaguely familiar. Before Jim could place where he knew him from, Toby perked up and let out a squeak of excitement.

“Hey!” Toby said pointing a finger at the man. “You’re the taco guy.”

“I am,” He said cheerfully as he worked his way down the stairs. “I wear many hats… Though to be fair, I do have a lot more success selling tacos than radios.”

He settled behind the counter and shoved a tangle of wires that were attached to a small glowing blue rectangle to the side.

“Stuart of Stuart’s electronics, at your service,” He said offering his hand. “What can I do for you?”

Jim stepped forward and shook it.

“We’ve looking for a vacuum.” Normally he would look for it himself but they would need all the help they could get to find anything in this store… or at least to get it out without toppling something.

“A really really reaaaaalllly strong vacuum,” Toby cut in. “One so powerful that it could suck up like… a mouse.”

“You do know they have mouse traps for that, right kid?”

“It’s a very smart mouse,” Jim interjected.

Toby nodded vigorously.

“A very very smart mouse. Like Jerry from Tom and Jerry levels smart. We can’t use poison either since my Nana’s cats might into it.”

“I see,” Stuart said tapping his chin. “If you don’t mind waiting a moment, I’ll head into the back and see what I have.”

Stuart retreated behind a pile of electronics and Jim and Toby listened as a series of thuds sounded out. There was a loud clatter and then a moment of silence.

“I’m fine!” Stuart called out.

“Do you think he’s really okay?”

Toby shrugged in response.

~~~~

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh were quite relieved to see them when they arrived at Bagdwella’s store.

“Ah there you are Master Jim!” The four-armed troll said with a smile. “As far as we can tell the little varmint remains in his hole.”

“That’s good,” Jim said navigating the vacuum over the last bump.

He straightened up and grimaced as his back let out a series of pops. They really should have called Aaarrrgghh to help them bring the vacuum down the stairs. The thing was heavy.

“What’s that?” Aaarrrgghh rumbled with interest as Toby set down his bag.

“It’s a battery pack to run the vacuum off.”

The large troll leaned forward to sniff it.

“Tasty,” He said licking his lips.

“Don’t eat that,” Jim said quickly. “We need it.”

“After we catch gnome?” Aaarrrgghh asked hopefully.

“Sorry,” Jim said. “It’s my Mom’s. She might miss it.”

Aaarrrgghh sighed and gave him a sad look. Such a big troll had no right to have such big woe-be-gone puppy dog eyes.

“Well… Here goes nothing,” Jim muttered as he stuck the hose into the gnome’s hole.

The machine roared to life and immediately angry chattering began sounding from inside the wall. Things began thudding into the hose.

“What is it doing?” Blinky inquired.

“It’s working,” Jim said with a giddy smile. “I can’t believe it’s actually working.”

He’d have to drop back by the shop and thank Stuart later. The man had apparently made his own modifications to it. He held up a hand for Toby hi-five and then quickly returned to bracing the tube. The gnome’s chattering became more rapid and then it let out a loud shriek.

Thunk.

Jim pulled the tube back revealing a pair of feet sticking out of it. It shook and Jim was barely able to maintain his hold as the gnome’s feet kicked aggressively.

“Quick, get something to trap it!”

Blinky began to scramble around for some form of containment. Fortunately it seemed that Aaarrrgghh was already prepared. Blinky smiled at the green giant when he handed him a sturdy bag, which he then handed to Jim, who wrapped it around the hose.

“Okay… turn it off, Tobes.”

Toby pushed the off switch and the roar of the machine died down. Jim pulled the bag back and it immediately began thrashing. He closed his other hand around the bag’s opening to prevent gnome from escaping.

“We got him!” Jim glanced over at the vacuum. “Did we get the amulet?”

“I’ll check,” Toby volunteered. “You get something to tie that closed.”

That was a good plan. Jim wasn’t sure how long he would be able to hold the bag closed. Bagdwella found them a rope while Toby removed the top of the vacuum and rooted around inside.

“So any luck?” Jim asked coming up behind him.

His friend yelped, clearly having not heard him coming.

“Nope. We probably should keep trying.”

Jim winced. This wasn’t good. He was fairly certain losing an ancient magical artifact was a big no-no.

He turned on the vacuum and tried again, this time going until it was sucking up nothing else, and then they emptied out the bag. Bagdwella sorted her things out of the dust and announced that all was accounted for. Unfortunately the amulet didn’t turn up.

“Maybe it’s too heavy?” Toby suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Jim said with a frown. “The vacuum got the gnome and it was much heavier than the amulet.”

He turned to Blinky and Aaarrrgghh.

“Did you guys watch the hole all night?”

Blinky nodded.

“Aaarrrgghh and I took shifts and made sure it was never unsupervised.” He paused fidgeting a little as his eyes darted around. “Perhaps there is another opening to the tunnel.”

Jim grimaced. He rubbed at his arms. This just kept getting better. What now? He glanced at the wiggling bag.

“Does anyone here speak gnome? Is there any way to interrogate one?”

“I’m afraid not, Master Jim,” Blinky said with deep regret. “I know some have studied gnomes and their language. Unfortunately none of them live in Trollmarket.” He shot a glare at the bag as the gnome let loose a string of angry sounds. “That and most attempts to understand the vermin resulted in insults.”

Well that was just great. Jim sighed.

“So what should we do?”

Blinky rubbed the back of his hand and shrugged.

“I am afraid I am at a loss… I suggest you retire for the night and we reconvene tomorrow with fresh ideas.”

“What about the gnome?”

Blinky picked it up and handed the bag to him.

“Keep him on hand for the moment… as a precaution… but once we find the amulet you must finish the job.”

“Finish… Wait you mean kill it?!”

“Of course. That is one of the Rules.”

Jim’s stomach clenched as he accepted the bag from Blinky. He could understand seeing the gnome as annoying… but to kill it?

“Come on Toby,” He said as he turned to leave Bagdwella’s shop.

The shorter boy followed him slowly, brows furrowed.

~~~~

Toby and Jim pulled into their cul-de-sac just as the sun slipped behind the trees.

“Hey…”

Toby turned and blinked at him. Jim noticed there were dark bags under Toby’s eyes. He had been distant all day. When had he last had a full night’s sleep? Something twisted in Jim’s gut.

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” His voice came out so much more hesitant than he wanted. “We can watch a movie and I’ll even make my Ultimate Party Popcorn.”

Toby’s brows drew together and his gaze flicked away for a moment. The twisting in Jim’s gut grew more pronounced. Then Toby’s expression relaxed into a smile.

“Yeah… that would be nice,” He nudged Jim’s shoulder with his own. “Besides how can I pass up on your Ultimate Party Popcorn?”

Jim bumped him back with a smile. He let out a quiet breath of relief. They were still okay.

~~~~

Toby listened as Jim’s breathing slowly leveled out.

He stared at the dark ceiling, eyes carefully kept open. The images of last night were still too fresh in his mind. A reminder of what would happen if they messed up. If they were caught.

Of the consequences of their actions.

The changeling quietly rose to his feet. His hand slipped into his pocket closing around the cold metal circle. Its tingling energy pulsed against his fingers like a heartbeat (He wondered if it matched Jim’s). His gaze flickered to his friend’s sleeping form.

It would be so easy to get rid of it. Jim had no obligation to the trolls. Toby certainly didn’t. He could slip away and hide it somewhere no one would ever find it. Maybe he could even destroy it. There would be no way to release Gunmar if the amulet was gone, right?

His fingers clenched tightly and he thrust it deeper into his pocket. He glanced at Jim. The room seemed to brighten slightly as his eyes glowed.  He wondered what the human would see right now if he woke up.

~~~~

~~~~

Well time to go edit my outline. Toby was originally not supposed to steal the amulet at this point... But well... things happen.

Stuart gets an appearance!

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Peace

Chapter 18 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! 

In which one of my all-time favourite friendship moments with Cassandra takes place, as well as some quality Dorian time too. 

Dedicated to @essequamvideri20, who adores Cass and Fen’s friendship (and who is also the captain of the Fentaghast ship, which let’s be real, is totally plausible in a non-Hawke AU.)

Read on AO3 instead if you prefer (~8800 words).

*****************

Fenris and Hawke led the others through Skyhold’s inner gates. He turned to Hawke and lowered his voice as they made their way toward the keep. “What are the chances that we can–”

“– go upstairs for some horizontal exercise?” she suggested. She wiggled her eyebrows.

He smirked tiredly. “I was going to say, to take a nap.”

She grinned, but before she could reply, Dorian’s loud voice called out from the top of the stairs. “Well, if it isn’t the Inquisitor himself, back from an undoubtedly delightful stroll through a place that was not riddled with disgusting swamps and dead bodies.”

Fenris sighed heavily, and Hawke laughed and patted his arm as Dorian traipsed down the stairs with Blackwall and the Iron Bull in tow. “Sorry, Fenris. No rest for the weary,” she said.

“Apparently not,” he grumbled. He gave Dorian a weary look as he and the others drew near. “What happened? Did you find those soldiers in the Fallow Mire?”

“Sure did,” Bull said. “Saved their asses from some weird Avvar tribesmen. One of their biggest warriors decided to join the Inquisition.” He idly scratched his muscular chest. “Mission went well, if you ask me.”

“I agree,” Blackwall said, with a dirty look at Dorian.

Dorian scoffed. “That’s not the point.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

“Not my point, no,” Dorian said. He lifted his chin imperiously. “I hope you looted a whole lot of bandits in Crestwood, because you owe me. I’m holding you personally responsible for the destruction of my finest boots and my best fire-retardant robe.”

Hawke snickered. “Ooh, someone didn’t enjoy his assigned adventure to the Fallow Mire,” she teased.

Dorian wrinkled his nose and flicked her arm. “You wouldn’t either. It was a vile place. What were Leliana’s scouts thinking? Who looks at a place like that on the map and thinks ‘oh, yes, a location entirely occupied by acidic marshland and death at every turn. Let’s go exploring there!’” He shivered dramatically. “Everything wanted to eat us. Mosquitoes, undead bodies, those vile tribesmen, the bog itself…”

“The mosquitoes didn’t bother me,” Blackwall interjected.

“They probably thought you were just a part of the bog,” Dorian said. He shot Blackwall a scathing glance. “Do you ever bathe?”

Blackwall scowled, but Bull chuckled. “Lucky for the tribesmen that they didn’t eat you, pretty boy,” he said. “I don’t think their stomachs could handle such rich meat.”

Dorian grimaced delicately. “I feel like there’s a compliment hidden in there somewhere. Somehow that only offends me further.”

Fenris gave Dorian a flat look. “Dye your robes black like you said you would. That should hide ‘any number of sins’, if I remember correctly.”

Blackwall smiled and rubbed his nose, and Bull openly chuckled. Dorian shrugged casually and dropped his arms to his sides. “Maybe I will,” he retorted. “Then you and I can be matching, and we can brood handsomely together.”

Fenris glanced at his black travelling cloak. “Ah. I can’t have that,” he deadpanned. “Perhaps we will trade. You can start wearing black, and I will wear… whatever you call that vile fabric.” He eyed Dorian’s purple one-shouldered geometrically-patterned robes. “From what I recall, that pattern was fashionable in Tevinter over fifteen years ago.”

Hawke’s jaw dropped in amused shock, and she fanned herself. “Wow. Unexpected burn.”

Dorian only grinned, however. “You think to shame my clothing choices, my friend?” he said cheerfully to Fenris. “Don’t you realize that fashion is cyclical?”

Fenris grunted. “I suppose I forgot, what with all the cursed demons and the rifts.” He stepped around Dorian and made his way up the stairs.

Dorian and the others trailed after him. “You didn’t forget,” Dorian said. “You were just too busy staring at me.” He jauntily adjusted a lock of his perfectly-coiffed hair. “It’s all right, Fenris, I know I’m exquisite.”

Blackwall scoffed, and Hawke snickered, and Fenris just shook his head. “Dorian, is there something I can actually do for you? Because if not–”

“Oh, Fenris! I’m glad you’re back!” To Fenris’s surprise, Josephine was hurrying through the Great Hall toward them with her tablet and plume in hand.

He raised his eyebrows. “Josephine. Is something wrong?”

“Not at all, not at all!” She beamed at him. “Leliana received your raven about wanting to arrange a wedding. Even if it is just a private function for the Inquisition, I am so very pleased–”

“Oh my. What’s this, now?” Dorian interrupted with a grin.

Fenris scowled at Dorian, but Josephine smiled. “It’s wonderful news,” she enthused. “Fenris and Lady Rynne are to be wed!”

“Well well, how romantic,” Dorian said. He elbowed Hawke. “Our handsome leader will be making an honest woman of you, hmm?”

Hawke snickered and bumped him with her hip. “If Fenris makes me any more honest, then I’ll be telling you what I think of your fashion choices.”

Dorian barked out a laugh. Blackwall, meanwhile, grinned and clapped Fenris on the shoulder. “Congratulations,” he exclaimed. “We could use something good to celebrate around here.”

“We sure can,” Bull said. “The hero getting the girl, big party, the dancing and the drinks: that’ll help distract everyone, get them all cheered up.”

Fenris frowned. This kind of spin on his and Hawke’s marriage was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid.

Hawke took his hand. “We’re having a private ceremony, just for us,” she said to the other men. “There’ll be a party for everyone afterwards, though.” She squeezed Fenris’s hand encouragingly, and he met her reassuring amber eyes.

Dorian shrugged carelessly. “Fair enough, as long as there’s a party. And drinks.” He waved expansively at Josephine. “Let there be alcohol! There will be alcohol at this thing, yes?”

“What a stupid question. Of course there will,” Hawke scoffed. She looped her hands through Josephine’s and Dorian’s elbows. “Now, Josie, we really need your help with arranging things – Dorian, since you claim to have such impeccable taste, you can help too…” To Fenris’s great relief, she began leading them away toward Josephine’s office.

He sighed and turned to Blackwall, who was still smiling benevolently at him. “Warden Stroud mentioned that all the Grey Wardens in Orlais have been hearing the calling,” Fenris said. “You didn’t mention this. Have you been hearing anything unusual?”

Blackwall’s smile fell away, and he straightened. “I know what Corypheus is. He has no sway over me,” he said firmly.

Fenris studied him appraisingly for a moment. “I suspect that the Wardens are involved in something nefarious,” he said. He lowered his voice. “You have been loyal to the Inquisition since you joined us. When we go to the Western Approach–”

“I stand with you, Your Worship. Fenris,” Blackwall interrupted. “My place is with the Inquisition. By your side is where I stand.”

Fenris nodded. “You have my thanks.”

Blackwall bowed slightly. “And you have my sword and shield, for whatever they’re worth.” He straightened and nodded sharply. “I’ll return to training the men with Cullen’s officers. Let me know if you have need of anything else.”

Fenris watched thoughtfully as Blackwall strode away. Then he turned and looked up at Bull. “There was a high dragon in Crestwood,” he said. “We weren’t able to tackle it in the time we had. I will let you know when we go back to kill the creature.”

Bull grinned slowly. “Excellent,” he said. “Beautiful beasts, aren’t they? We’ll make ‘em ours, boss. You’ll see.”

Fenris nodded. Then, to his mild surprise, Mother Giselle approached him and bowed slightly. “Your Worship, if I may have a moment of your time…”

Fenris raised his eyebrows at Bull, who shrugged and wandered away with a wave. Fenris turned to the Chantry sister. “Call me Fenris, please,” he said tiredly. “What do you need?”

“I have news regarding one of your… companions,” she said. “The mage from Tevinter.”

There was a certain coolness to her tone that was familiar to Fenris. He tilted his head curiously. “You are not fond of Dorian?” he asked. Then suddenly he realized something.

He leaned away from her slightly. “This is why you disliked me when we first met. Because I am from Tevinter,” he said flatly.

She bowed her head slightly. “You have proven your valour, Inquis– Fenris. That young man, however…” She straightened and looked Fenris in the eye. “In any case, my feelings are of no importance. I have been in contact with his family: House Pavus, out of Qarinus.” She blinked curiously. “Are you familiar with them?”

Fenris narrowed his eyes slightly. Had she forgotten his history, or was she simply being polite? “Yes, I am,” he said tersely. “Why would a southern Chantry sister contact a Tevinter magisterial family?”

“I didn’t contact them, Inquisitor,” she said calmly. “They contacted me. The family sent a letter describing the estrangement from their son and pleading for my aid.” She handed Fenris the letter. “They’ve asked to arrange a meeting: quietly, without telling him. They fear it’s the only way he’ll come.” She demurely clasped her hands together. “Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I’d hoped–”

“Why the secrecy?” Fenris demanded. “It could be a trap.”

“That did occur to me,” she admitted. “What if it is a plot of those mages – the Venatori?” She sighed and bowed slightly. “Another reason to put this in your hands. I pray that isn’t the case, but if it is, you are far better equipped than I to respond to such treachery.”

Fenris folded his arms. “I still don’t understand why they contacted you. If it is an innocent attempt to speak with Dorian, they should have written to him directly.”

Giselle spread her hands slightly. “I am of the Chantry. Not of the Imperial Chantry, of course, but they understand what an Andrastian mother represents. They believe the young man would refuse, and the letter implies he would have cause. Yet they are remorseful for whatever came before.” She widened her eyes pleadingly at Fenris. “I know there is deceit in bringing the young man to this meeting without his foreknowledge. But does this not lead to greater kindness if there is potential for reconciliation?”

Fenris studied her shrewdly. For all her altruistic talk of reconciliation, Fenris could see the truth: she wouldn’t be displeased if Dorian left the Inquisition.

He pursed his lips. It didn’t escape his notice that he himself should have good reason to want Dorian gone, as well. Dorian was a Tevinter mage, after all, and one who clearly enjoyed his magic and the power it gave him. And yet…

Fenris unfolded his arms. “I will speak to Dorian. If this is a Venatori plot, I will kill them myself.”

Giselle’s expression tensed with worry, but she bowed to Fenris more deeply. “As you see fit, Inquisitor. I do believe they just want to talk; to understand why Dorian felt he had to come here.” She straightened and took a step back. “They wished to meet in the Redcliffe Village: away from Skyhold, but not in Tevinter.”

Fenris frowned. This only enhanced his suspicions that the magister was attempting to set them up. “Why away from Skyhold?” he asked.

“You make them nervous, I think,” she said.

Fenris blinked in surprise, then scoffed bitterly. “They should be nervous,” he growled. Then he remembered his manners and nodded graciously to Giselle. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” he said. “I will deal with it.”

She nodded in farewell and floated away, and Fenris read the letter with a frown. Feeling slightly troubled now, he walked toward Josephine’s office to pull Dorian aside, but before he reached the door, Hawke came out.

She smiled conspiratorially at Fenris as she closed the door behind her. “They’re thick as thieves in there,” she said. “I asked them to arrange basically everything. One million less things for us to deal with.” Then her smile faded slightly, and she squeezed his arm. “Are you all right?”

Fenris nodded. “I will need to speak to Dorian shortly. But we can let them work for now.” He tilted his head toward the stairs to the upper courtyard. “Let us speak with Cassandra about your idea for training the civilians in basic defense.”

“Oh, it wasn’t my idea,” Hawke said as they left the Great Hall. “You made me think of it–”

“It was your idea,” he repeated. “And it is a good one.”

She smirked and shrugged. “Well, if you insist on telling me I’m a wonderful strategic genius, who am I to disagree?”

Fenris smirked and pinched her waist, and she giggled and traipsed down the stairs. But when they made their way toward the usual training area where Cassandra could be found, she wasn’t there.

Fenris glanced around the courtyard. Sometimes she trained with Blackwall and Cullen’s men, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Hawke gestured toward the annex that served as the quartermaster’s outpost during the day and as sleeping quarters at night. “Maybe our lovely Lady Seeker is taking a nap?” she suggested.

Fenris huffed. “She should be so lucky,” he drawled. He quietly pushed open the annex door.

The quartermaster bowed to them as they entered, and Fenris nodded a greeting before looking around. Then he spotted Cassandra.

She was sitting on a stool by the fire, completely engrossed in a book. She didn’t seem to notice as they made their approach, and Fenris subtly cleared his throat. “Cassan–”

She shot to her feet, and the book clattered from her lap to the floor. Cassandra snatched it up and clutched it to her chest, but not before Fenris saw the distinctive cover.

His eyebrows leapt high in surprise, and Hawke gasped. “Cass! Are you reading Swords and Shields?”

“No!” Cassandra blurted. “Of course not! I’m – it’s…”

Hawke laughed. “Now now, don’t be embarrassed! You know Fenris came up with the title for that book?”

Cassandra turned to Fenris with alarmingly wide eyes. “You did?” she asked. Then she scowled and shook her head. “I mean… I – I am only reading it because there was nothing else to do…”

“She’s read it three times,” Cole said from behind Fenris.

Fenris pursed his lips as Cole wandered over Cassandra’s side. After two weeks of travelling together, he was so accustomed to Cole’s inconvenient appearances that they didn’t even alarm him anymore.

Cassandra glared at Cole with swiftly reddening cheeks. “You!” she snapped. “I told you to stop spying!”

Cole blinked. “You read it out loud to me,” he said, in a slightly hurt tone. He twisted his fingers together. “I don’t like the Captain, either.”

Cassandra tutted loudly. “I never did that!” she protested stridently. Too stridently.

Hawke was beaming at Cassandra as though her wildest dreams had come true. Cassandra, on the other hand, was looking more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment.

Fenris looked at Cole. “Go tell Hawke what your favourite part of the book was.” He gave Hawke a meaningful look.

She chuckled. “Fine, fine,” she said cheerfully. She slung her arm around Cole’s neck and pulled him toward the annex doors. “Come on, Cole, why you don’t you tell me what you understood about that bit that took place in the empty office during the party scene…”

Fenris waited until the annex door closed, then leaned against a nearby support beam and folded his arms. “What Hawke said is true. I did come up with that title.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, and Fenris bit back a smirk. She nervously rubbed the cover of the book with her thumb, then she sighed and plopped down on the stool once more. “All right. I confess,” she said. “I enjoy this…  smutty literature. You must know this one ends on a cliffhanger, and it was written so long ago…” She looked up, and Fenris raised his eyebrows at the hope in her face.

“You’re Varric’s friend,” she said excitedly. “You could ask him to finish it – command him to…!”

Fenris raised one sardonic eyebrow. “It is my impression that death threats aren’t particularly conducive to a writer’s creativity,” he drawled.

“Death threats did not seem to harm him when I asked him about you and Hawke,” she muttered.

Fenris narrowed his eyes, and Cassandra sighed heavily and lowered her head in defeat. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “I am being unfair. But…” She trailed off and shook her head, then glared at Fenris. “Pretend you don’t know this about me. And whatever you do, don’t tell Varric.”

Fenris steadily returned her gaze. “Perhaps you should tell Varric. I think he would be pleased. That’s his least successful book, you know.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. “How?” she gasped. “It’s… all right, it is terrible. And magnificent. But…” She broke off and rubbed her nose, then looked at Fenris once more. “I am sorry, Fenris, I… you must have come here for a reason. Is there some way I can help?”

“No,” Fenris said. “It was nothing urgent, in any case.” This highly unexpected encounter was enlightening for more reasons than one. It certainly explained a lot – namely, the reason that Cassandra became so flustered and defensive every time that Varric’s books were mentioned. But it also made Fenris realize something rather comforting: that he and Hawke weren’t the only ones who wanted – or needed – a little bit of downtime from the Inquisition now and then. If even Cassandra was taking some leisure time to read, then perhaps it wasn’t so unusual for Fenris to crave some time alone with Hawke to simply relax and be.

He stepped away from the support pillar. “Enjoy your book, Cassandra. For the fourth time.”

She shot him a suspicious look, then smirked and opened the book. “Very funny, Inquisitor.”

Fenris chuckled at her retaliatory use of his title. Then he stepped out of the annex and back into the late afternoon sun.

Hawke was leaning against the side of the annex with a grin on her face. She skipped toward him and slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. “This is incredible,” she chirped. “This is the best thing I’ve learned about anyone since we discovered that Bull wears thongs.”

Fenris winced at the reminder. Then he nodded his head toward the Great Hall. “Come. We’re going to tell Varric.”

If possible, Hawke’s face lit up even more. “Wait – seriously? You’re gossiping? Who are you and what have you done with my Fenris?”

Fenris tsked. “I am not gossiping. I don’t gossip,” he said primly. “We’re going to persuade Varric to write the sequel for her.”

Hawke barked out a laugh. “You must be fucking kidding. He swore he would never write a sequel. He refused even when Merrill begged him with puppy eyes. He refused puppy eyes!” Then she gave him a shrewd look. “He might partial to your puppy eyes, though. I know I am.”

Fenris gave her a chiding look. “It is a strategic move. Cassandra and Varric have been at odds since the moment we’ve known her. If he gives her a new chapter of Swords and Shields...” He shrugged. “Perhaps she will finally forgive him. It is a simple team-building strategy.”

Hawke smiled at him and didn’t respond. He raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

She hugged his arm as they made their way up the stairs. “You want them to be friends. Admit it.”

Fenris grunted. “Whether they are friends is of no consequence. Whether they can work together, however…”

Hawke patted his arm affectionately. “It’s all right, Fenris. I want them to kiss and make up, too.”

Fenris didn’t reply. Her words evoked a memory from the blighted future he’d seen in Redcliffe – perhaps the only bright thing about the entire experience: Cassandra and Varric’s unexpected warmth towards each other.

He smiled slightly at the thought, then nodded a greeting to Varric, who was sitting at his usual letter-strewn table near the fire.

“Hey, Fenris. Hawke,” he said affably. He tossed an unopened envelope into the fire. “Care for a game of wicked grace?”

Hawke picked up an envelope from his junk mail pile. “Actually–”

Fenris placed a hand on her wrist and looked at Varric. “I have something to tell you, and I’d like to request that you not gloat.”

A smirk instantly lit Varric’s face. “Oh. This is going to be good.”

Hawke laughed and tossed the envelope into the fireplace. “Oh, Varric, you have no idea.”

Fenris took a seat in one of Varric’s chairs. “Cassandra is waiting for the sequel to Swords and Shields.”

Varric’s face went slack with surprise, then lifted into a grin. “I must have heard that wrong. It sounded like you just said that Cassandra read my smuttiest novel.”

Hawke plopped down in a chair beside Fenris. “Not just once, either. Three times!” she crowed. “You have a huge fan.”

“It’s true,” Fenris said. “She’s very fond of your work.”

Varric shook his head and chuckled. “If it’s a sequel she wants, she’ll be waiting for a while. You guys know I wasn’t planning to write a sequel to that garbage. The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink.”

Fenris picked up a piece of Varric’s junk mail and idly picked at the envelope. “Consider it this way: after all that has… happened, it might be a way to get into her good graces.”   

“Huh,” Varric said shrewdly. “So this is an Inquisition-related bribe, then?”

Hawke sighed. “Wrong tack, Fenris. Try again.”

Fenris shot her an exasperated look, then turned to Varric once more. “You and Cassandra could be friends,” he said bluntly. “I am certain of it. But…” He trailed off as he tried to find a way to verbalize his thoughts without painting Cassandra in an unflattering light. Cassandra could be stubborn and defensive and downright hostile, it was true. But she was also willing to admit when she was wrong, if people were patient with her.

Fenris rubbed the back of his neck. “Pretend… pretend she is me,” he finally said. “But instead of wine and gambling, you can win her over with… smutty literature.”

Hawke reached over and twined her fingers with his, and Fenris admired her smile. Varric stroked his chin thoughtfully. “So you want me to start writing a sequel of the worst book I’ve ever written,” he said slowly. “For Cassandra.” He chuckled. “That’s such a terrible idea, I have to do it. On one condition: I get to be there when you give it to her.”

Fenris twisted his lips; Cassandra wasn’t going to like that. But Hawke squeezed his hand. “Oh come on, Fenris, let Varric come,” she pleaded. “Besides, it’ll give them a better chance to make up. Face-to-face apologies all around, maybe a hug and some tears…”

Varric made a retching noise. “Andraste’s knickers, Hawke. You should write the sequel with soppy ideas like that.”

Hawke laughed, and Fenris sighed. “All right, fine. You can be there. But no gloating,” he warned.

Varric chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He picked up his plume and pulled over a fresh piece of parchment. “You know, the fact that the book is terrible just makes it more worthwhile, somehow.”

Hawke rose from her chair. “Just because it sold poorly doesn’t mean it was bad,” she told him.

Fenris pulled a little face. “It is rather bad, though.”

Hawke tutted and pinched his arm, and Varric snickered. “All right, all right, go on and leave me in peace, would you? I have serious work to do.” He dipped his plume in a bottle of ink and immediately started scribbling.

Hawke smirked, then took Fenris’s hand. “What are you up to now?” she said quietly. “I was thinking we could have a nice dinner alone…”

He squeezed her fingers. “That sounds ideal,” he replied. “But I need to speak to Dorian first. I will meet you in our chambers when I am done.”

“All right,” she said, and she sauntered away toward the door that led to the kitchens. Fenris, meanwhile, made his way through the door into Solas’s rotunda, intending to take the stairs up to the library where Dorian would surely be found.

He glanced into the rotunda, then stopped short in shock. The previously-craggy stone walls were now a smoothly plastered eggshell-white, save for one large panel which was adorned with a vast and masterful mural.

Fenris closed his mouth and took a silent step into the rotunda. Solas was on the scaffolding intently working on a second panel of the mural; his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and a row of paint-filled jars were neatly lined up at his feet as he worked on the enormous fresco with brisk, confident strokes.

Solas and Cole had only returned to Skyhold one day before Fenris, Hawke, Varric and Cassandra. So that meant Solas had finished an entire mural in one single day? Fenris had no idea that Solas even knew how to paint.

He watched in silence for a while as Solas worked on the fresco, and it slowly dawned on him what the completed panel showed: the Breach, depicted as an ominous eye in the sky.

“What is this?” he said.

His voice echoed through the rotunda more loudly than he’d intended. He pressed his lips together as Solas turned around. The elven mage’s forehead was furrowed in concentration, but his expression cleared somewhat as he met Fenris’s eye.

“Skyhold is your fortress. These are your actions,” he said simply. He turned back to the wall and continued to paint.

Fenris didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure how to. He watched Solas paint for another minute before silently leaving the room and making his way up the stairs.

Dorian was leaning against a bookshelf flipping through a tome. He smiled as Fenris approached and snapped the book shut. “Ah, if it isn’t the groom-to-be!” he said jauntily. “Naturally, you’ve come to me for advice on your wedding garb. You have a good physique for something fitted – not as good as mine, of course, but good enough. Now, I can lend you something, but you’ll have to have it taken in, and you’re not allowed to insult my excellent taste–”

“Dorian,” Fenris interrupted. “You should look at this.” He pulled Giselle’s letter from his pocket.

Dorian’s eyebrows rose. “Ooh, a letter. Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Fenris snorted; he couldn’t help it. Dorian’s manner reminded him of Hawke at times. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “It is from Tevinter. From your father.”

Dorian’s saucy grin instantly transformed into a neutral mask, and he pulled back his half-extended hand. “My father. I see,” he said. “And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?”

Fenris curiously studied Dorian’s uncharacteristically serious expression. “A meeting, or so it says,” he replied. “I am concerned that it is a Venatori plot.” He gestured again for Dorian to take the letter.

Dorian hesitated, then snatched the letter from Fenris’s fingers. “Let me see this,” he muttered. He paced slowly back and forth as he read the letter, and Fenris watched as Dorian’s expression twisted into fury.

Finally he looked up at Fenris and angrily shook the letter. “‘I know my son’?” he spat. “What my father knows of me could barely fill a thimble! This is so typical,” he raged. “I’m willing to bet this ‘retainer’ is a henchman hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter.” He crumpled the letter, then shoved it into his pocket. “Reaching out to that blasted Mother Giselle... Maker knows why he thinks I would travel anywhere with her.”

Fenris folded his arms. “It is strange, I agree.” He jerked his chin at Dorian’s pocket. “So? Could it be a Venatori trap? Every magister is rotten with corruption, but just how corrupt is your father?”

Dorian shot him a resentful look. “You know, after all we’ve done together, I would hope–”

“Dorian,” Fenris interrupted a bit more loudly. “I am not talking about you. I am talking about your family. Do you think the Venatori could be influencing them?”

Dorian pursed his lips, then exhaled sharply. “I can’t say for sure,” he admitted. “I would like to say my father would never be involved in something as nasty as the Venatori, but… I have learned the hard way not to underestimate what my father is capable of.”

His tone was extremely bitter, and Fenris eyed him speculatively. He knew that Dorian didn’t see eye to eye with his family, at the very least because of their attempts to marry him to a girl he didn’t know. But from the look on Dorian’s face, it was clear that the issues were far deeper than that.

Fenris wasn’t particularly inclined to pick at the problem, however. As he’d told Hawke, he wasn’t one to gossip or pry. Furthermore, Hawke would be waiting for him in their chambers, and Fenris could openly admit that all he really wanted was to spend some quiet time with her.

He decided to stick to business. “I don’t think you should meet this alleged retainer in Redcliffe,” he said. “We should force them to come to Skyhold.”

Dorian looked at him in surprise, then smirked. “Did you hate the Hinterlands that much, then? I’ll admit, it is one enormously boring unending sprawl of land…”

Fenris shrugged. “I’ll admit I am not fond of the place, but that is not the point. Skyhold is safer. It’s manned by our soldiers and protected by… whatever ancient magic is in these walls.”

Dorian’s smile widened, and he huffed and turned away. “All of a sudden you care about my safety?” he said. “I’m not sure I know my place in the world if you aren’t snarling at me or banishing me to the bog.”

Fenris sighed in undisguised exasperation. “It is for all of our safety that this so-called family retainer comes to Skyhold,” he said. “But yes, Dorian, you will be safer if they come here.” He was thinking of that terrible time when Varania had come to Kirkwall. Fenris had suspected a trap, and yet he’d agreed to Varania’s request to meet at the Hanged Man: a public place where Danarius’s men had been waiting to ambush him and Hawke, and where his shameful past was aired to everyone present. Perhaps if he had forced Varania to come to the mansion instead…

He mentally shook off the thoughts. It didn’t matter now; the sordid matter was done, and his sister was off resenting him somewhere in Ferelden, if Cole was to be believed. But Dorian could at least benefit from Fenris’s mistakes.

“You must keep a level head,” he advised. “If this is a trap – whether from the Venatori, or a personal one –  we should stand against them on familiar ground.”

Dorian’s smile slipped away as Fenris spoke. He dropped his eyes to his feet and inhaled slowly, then looked up and met Fenris’s eye once more. “You should write to them,” he said. “You tell them to come here. If he – if they agree to come here, knowing the dreaded Inquisitor himself invited them straight into the wolf’s maw–”

Fenris narrowed his eyes. “Do not call me ‘the wolf’,” he said, very quietly.

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Why not?” he said. “The Inquisition is like a pack of wolves, after all. Intelligent and deadly, and following the most intelligent and deadly of all. Well, after myself, of course.” He preened playfully.

Fenris pursed his lips, then looked away. A moment later, he turned back to Dorian. “Fine. I will write to the cursed magister,” he growled. “But if he refuses to send his man to Skyhold, we are not going to Redcliffe. I will not risk the threat.”

Dorian nodded. “That’s fair.”

Fenris nodded as well, then turned away. But before he could reach the stairs, Dorian spoke once more. “Fenris,” he said.

Fenris turned back to face him. Dorian’s expression was uncharacteristically serious. “Thank you,” he said. “For… for not keeping that letter a secret.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Keeping it a secret would serve no purpose. I wasn’t about to force you into something without your knowledge.”

Dorian gazed at him in silence for a moment, then made a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh and rubbed his nose. “Yes, well. I’ll simply chalk it up to you being an intractable gossip.” He grinned at Fenris. “Shameful, really, the way you came running straight to me with a top-secret letter from dear Mother Giselle. I can just imagine her face when you said you were going to tell me. I’m surprised she didn’t keel over in shock at someone defying her oh-so-benevolent suggestions.”

Fenris eyed Dorian speculatively for another moment. He really did behave uncannily like Hawke at times.

Fenris leaned against the banister and lifted his chin. “You understand why I sent you to the Fallow Mire with Blackwall and the others, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Dorian said. “To punish me for being so beautiful and well-dressed.”  

Fenris ignored his joke. “I sent you because you can be trusted,” he said bluntly. “Your judgment is reasonably clear.” He shrugged. “For a Tevinter mage.”

Dorian stared at him, and Fenris was alarmed to see tears welling in his eyes. He dropped Dorian’s gaze and frowned awkwardly at the floor.

Dorian laughed, then sniffled subtly. “Well, that’s better than most people here would give me, I suppose,” he drawled. “‘Reasonable for a Tevinter mage’. If I’m lucky, you’ll see me as just a regular mage someday. Perhaps even – Maker forbid – a person!”

Fenris scoffed and turned away. “I am leaving now,” he muttered.

“I’ll miss you,” Dorian called out jokingly. “Don’t kill anyone without me.”

Fenris grunted and made his way down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, he slowed and peered into the rotunda once more.

Solas was on the ground now, and he was working his way through the bottom half of the mural. Fenris’s gaze was drawn to the figures that Solas had sketched at the bottom of the panel: the silhouettes of a pack of wolves.

The Inquisition, he thought. Depicted as a wolf pack, just as Dorian had said.

He nibbled the inside of his cheek for a moment. Then he went to his private quarters to find Hawke.

She was lounging on the bed, humming to herself and reading a book. She looked up with a smile as Fenris came up the stairs, then slid off of the bed and hurried over to the carpet in front of the merrily-lit fireplace.

A silver tray laden with food was waiting for them. Hawke sat on the carpet and patted the ground beside her. “Come on over, handsome,” she said. “Stay awhile.”

Fenris smiled at the warmth in her voice. He lowered himself to the ground with a groan, then stretched out flat on his back and folded one arm beneath his head. “A tempting invitation,” he said. “I am tempted to remain here for the rest of the night, in fact.”

“You should,” Hawke said. “It’s a nice lazy night. You can practically feel the laziness in the air. We should take advantage of it while we can.” She solicitously tucked a nearby cushion beneath his head, then plucked a grape from the tray and held it out inquiringly.

Fenris smirked. “Are you to feed me grapes, then? Am I a spoiled noble now that we sleep in this opulent room?”

She tutted playfully. “You could never be spoiled. But I will feed you grapes, if you like. Then I can rub your feet, then your back, then other things…” She wiggled her eyebrows salaciously.

Fenris chuckled, then opened his mouth to accept her offering. She popped the grape in his mouth, and he enjoyed the burst of sweetness as he bit into the crisp and juicy little fruit.

He chewed and swallowed with relish, and for a time he shamelessly allowed Hawke to feed him grapes and bread dipped in honey and small shreds of soft-stewed ram meat. She took a bite for every morsel she gave to him, and when the tray was empty, she stretched out beside him on her side and propped her cheek on her fist.

Fenris smiled at her. Her spiky dark bangs were falling into her warm copper eyes, and Fenris gently brushed them away. “Come here,” he murmured.

She smiled more broadly, then shifted so she was lounging on top of him with his thigh trapped between her legs. Fenris pulled her close with a gentle hand at her neck, and her smiling raspberry-red lips met his own.

They kissed in a slow and leisurely way, soothed by the soft hiss and snap of the fire. Despite her suggestive jokes, Hawke’s kisses and her tender hands were affectionate without being provocative, and Fenris enjoyed the simplicity of her warm body and her touch without the expectation of anything more.

He slowly ran his hand along the length of her back as they kissed, and her fingers toyed idly with his earlobe in a sweet caress. Hawke’s assessment of the mood tonight was correct; the evening was heavy with a certain kind of peaceful languor that had been lacking in Skyhold since the Inquisition had first occupied it. Fenris wasn’t sure why that was; the same problems they’d always had were still looming, with the threat of Corypheus and the gathering of the Wardens in the west and this upcoming blasted masquerade. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to feel worried tonight.

It seemed like the others weren’t worried tonight, either. Fenris thought idly of Dorian and Cassandra reading, and Varric writing a new frivolous book. Then there was Solas with his painting, and Josephine happily preparing for a wedding instead of a war. On his way here, he’d spotted Blackwall working on a rocking griffon in the stables, and Cole playing fetch with Toby and a gaggle of small children.

Perhaps there was time for these moments of peace, despite the storm that was roiling around them.

There was one matter he probably should attend to tonight, though. He leaned away from Hawke’s lush lips and sighed. “I need to write a letter to a magister,” he said.

Hawke’s eyebrows jumped up on her forehead, and she barked out a little laugh of disbelief. “I’m sorry, did you just say you’re writing a letter to a magister? Will it be a death threat written in pig’s blood?”

He huffed. “Not quite. Dorian’s father supposedly wants to meet with him and persuade him to go back to the Imperium.”

Hawke’s smile faded, and she slowly sat upright. “Oh. Shit. He and his father do not get along.”

“I am aware,” Fenris said. He adjusted the cushion beneath his head and closed his eyes.

They fell quiet for a moment. Then Hawke spoke in a guarded tone. “Has Dorian told you why he and his father don’t get along?”

“No,” Fenris said. “I didn’t ask.”

“Why?” Hawke said. “I think he’d tell you if you did. He’s pretty open about it.”

Fenris opened his eyes. “It is Dorian’s personal business. It has no bearing on the work we’re doing.”

Hawke stared at him incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”

Fenris frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone here has personal shit that’s feeding the work we’re doing,” she exclaimed. “Including you. Including me! Besides,” she gave him a knowing look, “you can’t pretend your little friend-matchmaking with Cass and Varric isn’t personal. You want your friends to be friends, too.”

Fenris frowned more deeply. “There is no reason Cassandra and Varric can’t get along.”

Hawke lifted a skeptical eyebrow, and he sighed and rolled his eyes. “All right. I have a secret to tell you. But you can’t tell Varric or Cassandra.”

Her eyes went wide, and she stretched out on her belly beside him. “Tell me!” she urged.

Fenris sighed again. Now he really was gossiping. “In that dark future I saw with Dorian, Cassandra and Varric were very good friends.”

She blinked in surprise. “Oh.” Then her eyes went impossibly wide once more. “Oh. You mean…”

Her face was a picture of delight. Fenris shrugged. “I can’t say for certain from what we saw, but it is possible. There was a prolonged embrace...”

Hawke’s jaw dropped. “That’s fantastic,” she whispered. “Maker’s balls. No wonder you’re trying to get them together!”

Fenris tutted loudly. “I’m not trying to – they should get along for the Inquisition’s sake. Hawke.” He pinched her waist in rebuke, but it only made her laugh even more.

“Do not remind Dorian of this,” he threatened. “He is a gossip-monger. He will spread slanderous stories for the sake of entertainment.”

“All right, fine,” she giggled. She shifted closer to him and draped herself across his chest once more. “But you have to admit, it is kind of like being in Kirkwall now.”

He twisted a piece of her hair in his fingers. “It is right now, yes.” He wiggled his bare toes in front of the fire.

“No, I mean with the people here,” she said softly. “They’re our friends now, Fenris. It’s not just work colleagues anymore.”

Fenris exhaled slowly. “You have a very loose definition of friends,” he murmured.  

“I know, but you don’t,” she replied. “And you know I’m right.”

He didn’t reply. He thought of Cassandra’s subtle humorous digs and of training with Blackwall, and Bull’s general affable nature. And then there was Dorian, with his flashy magic and his Hawke-like humorous mask…

He closed his eyes. “They do seem to need something all the time. That is rather like our friends in Kirkwall.”

Hawke poked his belly. “You’re such a grump,” she whispered.

He grunted and grabbed her hand. “Do not poke me,” he mumbled, and he playfully nibbled her knuckles.

She chuckled softly, and they lay in front of the fire for a moment longer. Then Fenris sighed quietly. “Would you care for dessert?”

“Hmm, maybe,” Hawke said. “They were making pie earlier, with those amazing apples from the garden. I still find it insane that those trees are producing fruit right now. It’s not even the right season for apples.”

Fenris hummed thoughtfully, then slowly sat upright as Hawke shifted off of his chest. “I will bring some pie,” he said. He kissed her on the forehead, then picked up the tray and made his way downstairs.

He was halfway to the door to the kitchen when Varric waved him over. “I’ve got something for you,” he said. He handed Fenris a tidy sheaf of parchment: about twenty pages’ worth.

Fenris put the tray on Varric’s table and glanced curiously at the neat writing on the top page. His eyes went wide with surprise. “The sequel to Swords and Shields? Already?”

Varric waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, it’s just the first chapter. I’ll have to pick away at it when I have the time. But if Cassandra is that much of a fan, she’ll be happy to read even this.”

Fenris couldn’t help it. He laughed. “You have been waiting for an excuse, haven’t you?” he teased. “Any excuse to write more of this titillating series. Don’t try and deny it.”

Varric chuckled. “Think what you want. All I know is it’ll be worth it to see the look on the Seeker’s face when I hand this to her. Now where’s Hawke? She can’t miss this.”

“Did someone call me?” Hawke sidled up to them and looked up at Fenris. “I forgot I wanted tea,” she explained. Then she turned to Varric. “What’s happening?”

Fenris showed her the sheaf of parchment. She took one look, then clapped a hand over her mouth and hopped in excitement. “Oh fuck me, this is fantastic. All right, forget everything else, let’s go find Cassandra right now.” She practically ran for the stairs that led to the upper courtyard.

Fenris thrust the parchment back at Varric, then darted after Hawke and grabbed her arm. “Hawke, be kind,” he warned.

“What do you mean? I’m always kind!” she protested. “Well, most of the time.”

Fenris shot her a reproving look. “You know what I mean. Do not taunt her about this.”

She widened her eyes. “Fenris, have a little faith. I honestly think she should start a book club. There’s no way she’s the only fan of Swords and Shields in this castle.”

Fenris continued to frown at her, and she blinked innocently back at him. Then Varric strolled past them with the chapter in his hands. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s go.”

They followed him toward the training area near the annex. Cassandra was training with one of the dummies, and as Varric and the others neared, she lowered her blunted sword.

She scowled at Varric. “What have you done now?” she demanded.

Varric raised one placating hand. “I get it, Seeker. You’re still sore.”

Cassandra belligerently folded her arms. “I am not a child, Varric. Do not suggest I am without reason.”

Varric shrugged. “A peace offering, then.” He held out the chapter to her.

She scowled more deeply and took the parchment. Beside Fenris, Hawke was practically vibrating with excitement, and he surreptitiously reached out and took her wrist to calm her.

Cassandra scanned the first page, and her scowl transformed into an expression of total joy. Then she forced her face back into a scowl and turned to Fenris.

“This is your doing,” she accused. She glared at Hawke. “Both of you!”

Hawke held up her hands in protest. “I had nothing to do with it! I’m an innocent bystander for once!”

“It was me,” Fenris said bluntly. “I told him. I hoped you’d be pleased.” He waved at the parchment in her hands. “I skimmed the first page. It is… well, it’s something.”

Varric snorted. “Thanks for that, elf.”

Cassandra’s cheeks were turning steadily turning red. She ducked her head and continued to scowl, and Varric sighed playfully. “Well, if you’re not interested, you’re not interested. Still needs editing, anyhow.” He reached for the parchment in her hands.

“No!” Cassandra blurted. She hugged the parchment to her chest.

Varric folded his arms. “You’re probably wondering what happened to the Knight-Captain after the last chapter.”

Cassandra hugged the parchment more tightly still. “Nothing should happen to her. She was falsely accused!”

“Well,” Varric said, “it turns out the guardsman –”

“Don’t tell me!” she squawked.

Hawke made a stifled choking noise and turned away, and Fenris tried his best to quell his own grin. Then Varric waved at him. “This is the part where you thank Fenris. I don’t normally give sneak peeks, after all.”

Cassandra’s eyes were on the ground. She rubbed the parchment with her thumb, then finally lifted her face. “Thank you,” she said softly.

She looked far happier than Fenris had ever seen. He jerked his chin at Varric. “You should thank Varric as well. I suspect his hand will be cramping in the morning.”

Cassandra bit her lip, then nodded to Varric. “Thank you, Varric. Truly.”

Varric bowed to her with a little flourish. “I am but a servant to my loyal readers,” he said.

Hawke snorted and slung her arm around his neck. “If that’s true, then where’s my fourth sequel to Hard in Hightown? I’ve only been waiting for at least five years.”

Varric chuckled. “Maybe you should get Fenris to sweet-talk me into it.” They began to wander back to the castle.

Fenris smirked at their departing backs, then turned to Cassandra. “That was not so terrible, was it?” he said. “There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” she retorted.

Her cheeks were still red. Fenris raised his eyebrows. “Good,” he said.

She lowered her arms and boldly lifted her chin. “Well, why should I be embarrassed? Romance is not the sole province of dithering ladies in frilly dresses. It is passion,” she insisted. “It is being swept away by the pursuit of an ideal. What is not to like about that?”

“Nothing,” Fenris said. “I agree with you, in fact.”

She stopped in surprise, and her shoulders loosened. “You do?”

“Yes,” Fenris said. He leaned against a nearby tree. “Passion allows you to get things done. It’s the impetus that drives you from thinking to doing.” His eyes drifted to the slender curve of Hawke’s hips as she and Varric walked up the stairs.

For the first time in years, Fenris thought of the so-called book he himself had written in Kirkwall: the poorly-spelled, angst-filled journal he’d scrawled during the interminable years before he’d finally found the courage to tell Hawke how he felt. He’d loved Hawke for so long, and he’d allowed it to fester in the shadows of his overwhelming hate. During the eight-odd years he’d been in Kirkwall, he’d harboured that passion for Hawke, that same unbreakable thread of love that bound them together now, and he’d foolishly expended that passion on the pages of parchment that he’d shoved beneath his sagging mattress in Kirkwall until he’d finally handed them to her.

It had taken Fenris many years, but he’d finally shared his passion with the one person who inspired it the most. In his mind, despite their disagreements and their differences, there was no one in this world who was more ideal for him than Rynne Hawke.

He looked at Cassandra once more. “Passion pushes you through the paralysis of doubt,” he said quietly. “Continue to pursue your ideals, Cassandra. Your passion does you proud, and you should not be embarrassed for it.”

Cassandra smiled broadly at him, then looked down at the pages in her hands and nodded. “I… I will. Thank you, Fenris.” She gazed covetously at the pages for a moment, then lifted her chin once more. “You have been a good friend, despite our… rocky beginnings. I am grateful for that.”

Fenris hesitated, then nodded to her. “You have been, as well.”

She smiled and took a step away. “I should return to training,” she said. She gestured to the rack of practice swords. “Would you care to train with me?”

She was holding Varric’s first chapter close to her chest. Fenris smiled faintly and shook his head. “Thank you, but no. You have important reading to do. Reports from Cullen and the like.”

Her smile became a smirk. “That is true,” she said, and they waved farewell.

As Fenris strolled back toward the stairs into the Great Hall, he surveyed the castle grounds. People were working, certainly – healers and gardeners and castle runners and all the crucial castle staff who kept Skyhold maintained and orderly. But there were just as many people lounging and relaxing: groups of soldiers playing cards and rolling dice, small children chasing each other while their parents chattered, and the sounds of lively talk and Maryden’s smooth singing drifting out of the tavern’s open door.

Fenris smiled to himself as he made his way up the stairs. The residents of Skyhold were enjoying this rare moment of peace. And when Fenris returned to his chambers and the refuge of Hawke’s open arms, he would enjoy it too.