#as someone who's been hit regularly with those feels after meeting far-away living friends for an intense week

[izpira-se-zlato]

After the way yesterday and today have gone, what do we think more likely/will occurr first -- Jance kiss on stage, or someone posting hole on IG?

[dabilove27]

Chapter 4

Chapter 3 | Next Chapter

Paring: Shuji Hanma x Fem!Reader, Draken (Ken Ryuguji) x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings:  Pet name “Kitten, Babe, my girl.” Fingering, some possessive thoughts, edging, light dacryphilia, female receiving oral, sex. Mentions of smoking. Let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: Hello! If anyone is still waiting for this I'm so sorry it took so long! Life has been crazy with a toddler and work that just seems to get busier by the day. Thank you so much for being patient if you are still here! We get a little spicy with Shuji but I promise Draken will come up in future chapters. Thank you so much to my loves @lady-lunaaa and @gixxie for beta'ing! hopefully the next one won't take seven months!

To say things with Hanma became hot and heavy fast was an understatement. After the date at the coffee shop, the two of you began to see each other regularly.

And Hanma spared absolutely no expense as the dates progressed. At first, it was just trying to fit each other into your busy schedules. With school and his work, the two of you tended to meet late at night. Hitting up small ramen shops that stayed open late or just walking down the dimly lit streets, talking and getting to know each other.

You stayed far away from any subject that might bring up Draken. Instead, you focused on your studies and trivial things about your family. But Hanma always listened with rapt attention. Whether it was bent over a small table at a restaurant with golden eyes bearing into your soul or walking through the streets at night hands linked together. It was weird having someone get to know you and to be able to tell them only what you wanted them to know. It was so different from the childhood friend who grew up experiencing everything with you.  

But as always, you stuffed those feelings deep down because you refused to let the past bleed into this relationship. And Hanma shared with you–well, maybe shared was the wrong term. Hanma spoke in riddles and encouraged you to figure out his underlying meaning. But just like the night you met him, you pushed back with each challenge, you worked on reading between the lines and uncovering what he was really trying to show you.

So far, you discovered that whatever gang he was in was well known. One of the top ones in the area. It made your stomach churn to wonder if he knew Draken in his work and what that might mean for your future with Hanma. You also learned about his closest friend, Tetta Kisaki. Hanma would reminisce about the transfers to different gangs before landing in his current position. He described Kisaki as a "hard ass" but spoke about him as if they were as close as brothers. He also talked about being known as the former "Kabukicho Reaper." 

It was comforting because you knew this world of fighting for power and living on the edge. But it also made your heart ache because of how Hanma shared all of this with you, and it seemed like he genuinely wanted you involved in his life in a way that Draken never could.

But again, you didn't try to dwell on it. Instead, you focused on your future. Because honestly, you still had plans to travel with your degree and were still determining if you and Hanma would be long-term. You chose to enjoy the moments with him now and take what would come as it came. 

Subtle changes began happening, though, as your relationship progressed with Hanma. Summer break came, and that opened up a whole new avenue for your relationship. You were finally available at reasonable hours, and Hanma could adjust his schedule to take you out on "proper" dates. 

And apparently, proper dates included fancy restaurants. Restaurants that you would've never imagined. Incredibly fancy sushi places with a month's waitlist, a classy place in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo, and a small but exclusive spot right outside Tokyo Tower. 

You had learned that Hanma liked to wow you. He seemed to take pleasure every time your words were taken from you as you gawked at each new spot. But along with the extravagant dates, you and Hanma couldn't seem to keep away from each other. Just like when his fingers grazed your lips from that first date, it was like an irresistible pull to touch each other. 

It started out innocent enough with a gentle hand holding and his hand placed on your lower back. But with every date, the pull became stronger. The first time he kissed you was right outside of your apartment building. Like a typical romance movie, he pressed a gentle peck to your lips, setting your stomach on fire. You couldn't help but lift your hand to the back of his neck and pull him in deeper. The world seemed to crumble around the two of you, not caring who saw the kiss that was becoming deeper with each moment. 

Hanma took control, his tongue swiping against your lips requesting entrance. You didn't even hesitate, and Hanma loved that about you. He loved how pliable you were in his hands but also how determined you were. You were soft but strong, and he liked that very much. Your tongues met in a fiery greeting, desperate to pull the air from each other's lungs. But just as it started, it ended quickly. The two of you pulled apart to catch your breath. And while you stood there like a newborn foal, your legs felt like they would crumble beneath you; Hanma stood there, utterly calm, as if this didn't phase him.

He made your mind race. He made you want to chase him but he always returned to you. Just enough for you to catch him momentarily before leaving you wanting more. You had to admit it was exhilarating. But the next step was an intimidating one. 

You had only had sex with a few guys during your college career. And unfortunately, they were constantly being compared to Draken in your mind. Not that you and Ken ever had sex, but you can't pretend you didn't think about it. But you didn't want to do that to Hanma. You had actual feelings for him, unlike the one-night stands. 

All you wanted for your first time with Hanma was to be Ken-free. The comparisons would drive you absolutely insane. You supposed that's why you waited so long to accept Hanma's invitation to his apartment. Because you weren't sure, you were ready. But after months of dates and wandering hands from both of you, you were dying to see what hid under those suits he wore. Deep down, you looked forward to connecting to him that way, even though you were afraid to admit it because it meant you gave a part of yourself to someone else. Because after what happened with Draken, you didn't ever want to be that vulnerable again. 

It's July when you finally accept his proposal to spend the night. You packed a small night bag with toiletries, comfortable night clothes, and a lacy silk black night slip that showed enough skin to pique interest but covered what you wanted. You wanted to be sexy but still play this game of cat and mouse you enjoyed with him.

Hanma was intoxicating, always pulling you in. You had no idea what his place would be like, but you had to say you were shocked when you arrived at the high rise in Tokyo. In the cool early evening, the lights of multiple apartments lit up the sky of the towering building. 

Steeling your nerves, you stepped into the lobby of the grand building. You knew that Hanma probably got paid well by his taste in dates, but you never imagined it would be this well. Just imagining the cost of a small apartment here made your head spin. But you tried to act like you belonged in this place. Holding your head high, you crossed the marble floor, your heels clicked with each step.   

The elevator was just as lavish as the lobby, clean and crisp with a pleasant ding as it notified you of its arrival to the floor. You quickly glanced back at your phone to confirm the floor. Fifty-seven, jeez. You scanned the illuminated buttons as the numbers climbed until you finally reached the final one. He lives on the top floor!? 

Your anxiety twisted in your stomach as you contemplated what this meant. Top floors meant penthouses or lavish apartments from every show you've watched. Well, this whole building was great, but you couldn't imagine what it looked like up there. But you refused to chicken out, reminding yourself that this is another step to moving forward with your life. To move past Draken. 

The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the top floor, but finally, after what seemed like the most anxious few minutes of your life, it pinged to announce your arrival. Stepping out into the hallway, you glanced around and moved out slowly as if something was about to reach out and grab you.

Your eyes scanned a hallway that matched the opulent entry of the building. In the middle of the hallway, on the wall opposite the elevator, sat an all-black door with the number "570" on a silver nameplate next to it. Hanma's apartment was the only one on this floor, and judging by the size of the hallway. 

Steeling your nerves, you ambled to the door wetting your lips quickly–a nervous habit that tended to leave your lips chapped. The door seemed more oppressive as you stood before it, knowing what's on the other side. Knocking quietly, you hoped Hanma heard it so you didn’t have to be awkward and knock again. 

And thankfully, your silent prayers were answered. Within less than a minute, the tall man you've been spending time with opened the door. And fuck he looked good. Strangely even better than in his typical suits and ties. He's dressed casually, a sight you typically don't see, but he still looks like he could kill. His hair was messy, and his glasses were off, leaving no barrier between his piercing gaze and yourself. 

"Welcome to my humble abode," his voice was light with a hint of mischief as he stepped away from the threshold to let you come in. You had to stop yourself from gawking as you walked into the entrance area of his apartment. It was so spacious. With much higher ceilings than you expected. If it wasn't for the floor-to-ceiling windows that show the tops of buildings reaching toward the night sky, you would've thought you were in a single-story home. 

Hanma continued to talk about mundane things about his home as you slip off your shoes and continue to walk through the living area and kitchen. Everything was modern to a T. You were shocked at how clean it is. You hadn't expected a bachelor's apartment to be spotless and well-designed.  

"You decorated this place?" The question slipped out before you could pull it back in. Warmth reached your face, embarrassed that you sounded so judgemental. 

But typical Hanma rolled with the punches quickly as he always did. "Why kitten, you hurt me!" His voice was overly dramatic as he made an exaggerated shocked expression. "I have style, you know." 

Rolling your eyes, you forgot all about the embarrassment because it was obvious he wasn't offended, and you were almost positive you wouldn’t get a straight answer out of him now. The two of you made quiet conversation as he showed you around, from the state-of-the-art kitchen to the sleek living area and the expansive view of Tokyo.

But the sexual tension in the air was heavy, and the palpitations of what's to come thrummed deeply in your chest. Hanma's words seemed fuzzy as he opened the wooden door to his bedroom. It matched the house's aesthetic; deep dark tones of modernized furniture paired with lowlights make it seem more sensual than just a place for sleeping.    

But again, what drew your gaze the most is another set of floor-to-ceiling windows. You approached quietly, scanning the entire city, and twinkling lights from multiple buildings and homes dot the landscape. It was absolutely stunning. 

"Shuji, I didn't take you for the exhibitionist," you turned around to stare back into his golden gaze, trying to break the unsaid sexual tension with some humor. 

"For you, babe? I'll explore anything," his voice was low, sending a rush through you. You knew that he would stop at any time if you asked him, but the thrill of him watching you like prey only charged the energy in the room.    

You tried to stay calm and collected, but your heart was hammering so loud you're sure he could hear it. But Hanma had gotten to know you better than that. He knew you were swallowing the anxiety and that your mind was racing with never ending thoughts. He moved closer to you, lifting one of his tattooed hands to cup your cheek, enticing you to move closer to him. The two of you were so close your nose brushed his as he gently brought his lips to yours, as his thumb caressed your cheek. Some of your anxiety eased as you smiled against his lips, thankful you never have to explain yourself. He just knew.   

The kiss deepened, and you could taste him on your tongue, sweet and intoxicating. His hands slowly trailed down your sides until it met the hem of your shirt and slowly slipped inside. Your thoughts became clouded with excitement as those last anxious moments faded away.

His touch was feverish against your skin as he slowly moved you to the bed. He carefully guided you onto the plush black comforter and then stood back to tower over you. 

His black and blonde hair fell before his golden eyes as he appraised you.  

"What did I do to get so lucky? To have such a gorgeous woman in my bed?" 

Hanma usually always had a sense of playfulness in his voice, but this time, it felt more serious. You always believed the praises he poured onto you, but tonight his words held a different weight. Hanma continued to explore you, trailing gentle kisses down your chest. Annoyance from the barrier between you two encouraged Hanma to remove your top and bra; his fingers continued to follow the curves of your body as the tip of his thumb brushed over your nipples.

It was like all that time the two of you have been waiting to explore each other exploded; he couldn’t seem to pull away from you. He brought his mouth down to one of your awaiting nipples and pulled it into his mouth. You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped. He’s now climbed on top of you, his clothed knee between your thighs. You ached for any friction and contemplated moving down to rub against him. Each movement only made you needy for more. Running your hands through his multi-colored hair, you tugged him close to you, urging him to do more.             

You watched him like a dog starving for attention as his hands quickly removed the button on his pants. But he was always in control and didn’t let you see all of him just yet. Instead, he returned to you, placing soft kisses down your shoulder, and followed the rest of your body until he met your clothed cunt. Every single touch, every single kiss added fuel to the burning desire inside of you.

Eventually, Hanma removed the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare against his black sheets. Hanma had only removed his shirt though and you ached for more. His long fingers skittered across your skin and down to your core, gently gathering the wetness. 

"I want to hear everything from you, kitten. No one can hear us, I promise," Hanma purred as he finally inserted a long digit inside you. He was drawing it out, moving much slower than you wanted. But you couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips even then. 

As he pumped his index finger in and out of you, his thumb found your aching clit, he began with soft circles, teasing you even more, pushing you closer to the edge. Your plushy walls pulsed around his finger as wet, squelching sounds met the large room.

"Look at you, already this spent, and we've barely started. Who knew you'd be so responsive."

All you could do is moan at his words, too excited to form a coherent sentence.    

Hanma let out a dark chuckle as he edged your thighs apart. He cursed at the low lighting in the room because he would love to get a good view of your aching pussy right now as he moved his face closer. His fingering didn’t stop; it continued at a slow pace that was driving you to the edge. It felt a little embarrassing to have him so close to your pussy, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him worship you so profoundly.

You were getting more impatient, though, and let out a whine, hoping it would encourage him to give you more. And finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he added another digit. The stretch felt good, but Hanma kept his steady pace, ignoring the bucking of your hips. He loved the way you moved beneath him, entirely under his control. You are his.   

You tried to continue to encourage him to pick up his pace to give you something more. And finally, he conceded, curling his fingers inside of you. He was moving faster, bringing you closer to breaking that coil that is so tight inside of you. But then his ministrations stopped, and you couldn’t help but cry, defeated.   

Hanma repeated this cycle multiple times, bringing you to the edge only to pull away before everything breaks. It left you breathless and begging for more. 

"You're so fucking cute, you know? Begging so sweetly for me," his voice was light, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond. Your cheeks were wet from the tears rolling down your face. A wide grin stretched across his face as he took his other hand and wiped away one of your tears with a swipe of his thumb. 

"I've never seen you cry before, but fuck it's a beautiful sight." You felt your insides flutter at the praise. But still, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, your mind too caught up in a fog of pleasure. 

"Okay, kitten, I'll let you cum now," his voice was playful, a clear message of how he loved toying with you.

Another whine escaped your lips, ready to have some sort of release. Hanma brought his head between your legs and, without warning, covered your clit with his warm mouth. His tongue moved expertly over the tight little bud as his fingers rammed into you.

And finally you came hard. A scream ripped through you, tired of being silenced for so long as your body shook from the dam bursting inside you. Your body began to settle into that post-orgasmic bliss, weighted down by the activity like you would float away on a cloud. But Hanma didn’t stop. He continued to tease you as his tongue glided over your clit over and over. 

"Shuji!" you screamed, begging him to release you.

It all became too much, and you moved erratically beneath him, but he held you in place effortlessly. His large hands pushed down on your hips, leaving you no escape. He continued his onslaught on your pussy with his tongue, and you were singing into the evening with sounds of pleasure. Your eyes met his golden lust-filled gaze as he held you down; his arm was taut as you moved beneath him. There was danger in his eyes, like he was stalking his prey and finally had it right where he wanted it.

Everything was building up again, and a second climax roared through you. The shocks of your orgasm sinked into every part of you, leaving you numb. It was all overwhelming. You tried to get your mind back down to this plain, but it seemed to be floating away.    

As you tried to gather yourself, Hanma moved above you. His warm hands, which were just ruthless moments ago, began to caress you. Soft movements of fingers grazed your tear-stained cheeks, and sweet kisses finally helped you calm down.

You looked at him again. The darkness of the room, only illuminated by the city sky outside his home, surrounded you. You could have never imagined a moment so raw for you, not after everything with Ken. Hanma was able to pull you so far away. Hanma was beautiful, with a sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and golden eyes. 

Your eyes met his, and it felt like nothing else existed except the two of you. 

"I'm going to make you mine." 

Hanma's lips captured yours, hot and heavy, devouring you wholly. He pulled you closer to him, his hand wrapped around the back of your head.

You couldn’t seem to separate from him. You wanted to beg him to take you, but one breath away from him was too much to bear. Eventually, somehow, you ended up on top of him, every item of clothing discarded on the floor. His cock laid heavy between your wet folds as excitement moved through your body.        

Every movement was driving you insane. Pleas escape from your lips as the head of his cock nudged your sensitive clit.    

The two of you stared each other down, golden eyes smoldering in the evening as you finally sank down on him. You wrapped your fingers around his shoulders, allowing him to stretch you out. His cock was long and thick, feeling like heaven as it sinks deeper inside you. You took all of him, pushing his tip right against your cervix.

Slowly, Hanma guided you, his hands holding your hips as he helped you find a rhythm. It felt like he's waited a lifetime to feel you like this. He cooed sweet compliments in your ears over and over. His voice caught in the cutest stutter when you squeezed him.

His eyes were still locked with yours as you bounced on his cock. There was absolutely nothing that could tarnish this moment.

"You're so fucking perfect," his voice was low as he panted out the words. Everything felt intense like you were the only two people in this world that existed.

But the response you gave reminded Hanma why he fell for you. How you've always caught him off guard. "You're pretty good yourself, Shuji." 

His hips crashed into yours as he allowed the emotion to fully take him under. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies meeting. 

Both of you reached your orgasms within moments of each other. Hanma couldn’t help it when your plush walls began to pulse around his cock. His balls tightened as he spilled himself inside of you. You savored the aftershocks and the subtle twitch of his member inside you. 

The two of you were silent, Hanma refused to pull out just yet. The distant city sounds and your heavy breaths were the only things permeating the air. 

Hanma finally broke the silence with a low chuckle before slowly pulling out of you with a soft hiss. He pulled back and pushed a strand of your hair back while leaving a gentle kiss on your lips.

"I know this is cliche, but that was fucking amazing," he whispered as he pulls back, lifting himself slowly off the bed. You met his wide grin with one of your own. Hanma beckoned you to the bathroom with an outstretched hand, and you didn’t hesitate before gingerly getting out of bed and following him. 

After that, you and Hanma became practically inseparable. Spending almost every moment of free time together when he wasn’t at work or you weren’t at school. Private moments were heated, and no matter how long the time apart, you reunited like long lost lovers. 

Hanma still kept his work relatively secret from you, which you understood from your past with Ken, but you couldn’t stop wondering if he ever had run-ins with Toman. But you tried to keep yourself from asking and possibly uncovering something that would hurt you. Deep down, you wanted the best for Ken. You hoped he's living a life that makes him happy.               

Days turned into months, and months became a year of being together. The flame with Hanma was heavy, devouring every part of you as the two of you progressed. And eventually, Hanma decided to let you deeper into his world. 

He initially didn't introduce you to Kisaki because he wasn't sure how long you would stay with him. While most girls he had been with liked the danger of his job, they would disappear when faced with the reality of meeting his cohorts. 

But you were eternally different from all of them. Hanma loved that you hold a soft part of yourself and a part that took no shit. It kept him guessing, constantly wondering what part of you he would get next. And that only solidified him taking you to finally meet Kisaki.  

Hanma picked a neutral place, a small family-style restaurant with enough hustle and bustle that there would be little attention if things got out of hand. He didn’t expect things to get crazy, but he has learned over many years to plan instead of dealing with the unexpected.

Hanma gently ushered you into the small doorway of the restaurant, his hand delicately placed on your lower back. The smell of fried food greeted both of you instantly. He began to search around the restaurant. Kisaki had already sent him a text that he had arrived. 

Dyed blonde hair and a shine of golden framed glasses finally came into sight. Hamna donned a broad smile as he walked over with you across the wooden floor. 

"Tetta!" Hanma called out across the restaurant with no regard for formalities. The man with blonde hair whipped his head in Hanma's direction with a scowl. 

It was strange that the two of them were friends. Hanma even said it himself, they were polar opposites. Hanma was loud and acted impulsively, whereas Kisaki sat quietly and planned everything to the last moment. But somehow, the two bonded over years of working together, from what Hanma has told you. 

Anxiety churned in your gut as the two of you approached the table. You wanted to make an excellent first impression, but by the intense scowl the other man was throwing at Hanma, you were still determining how well you’d be able to do it. 

"Don't you have any wits, you idiot?" Kisaki snapped at Hanma as soon as you arrived at the table, and you did your best to not let any weakness show. You knew how these men worked. 

Hanma only smiled at Kisaki as he ushered you into the booth. The maroon upholstery squeaked under your movement and then Hanma's as he squeezed in beside you. It felt like you were trapped, in a sense, with nowhere to look except at the intimidating man in front of you.

"Don't be so sour, Tetta. I'd like you to meet my girl." Hanma's voice was jovial as he motioned to you with one of his tattooed hands.

Steel gray eyes flashed over to your form, reading every part of you with his piercing gaze. Kisaki didn’t smile or offer a warm welcome which only made you want to melt away. "This idiot won't shut up about you," he motioned toward a smiling Hanma with his head. "I don't know what you've done to him, but he wouldn't give up until I agreed to meet you," his voice was bland, uninterested. 

Your mind fumbled with how to respond to that. And without thinking, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. "That's odd. Shuji hardly ever mentions you." 

Hanma bursted out with a loud laugh that only made the other man send him a sharp glare. "I can see you picked a volatile one," Kisaki's voice was flat as he gazed at the laminated menu.       

Hanma had to admit the little exchange only endeared him to you more. Your quick wit and unwillingness to back down made his head spin. It only confirmed that he was right to stage this little introduction because the only way you would leave this relationship is if he made that choice.

Thankfully after some smooth talking from Hanma, the tense atmosphere was lifted for the rest of the dinner. Kisaki only talked when it's about himself, and even then, he gave you very few details. But he listened intently when you spoke, watched you and took in everything, making you a bit uneasy.

It was as if he was gathering as much information as possible, planning a grand scheme in his mind with each crumb you dropped. And while Hanma played aloof, sometimes he was far from it. In this, you saw the similarities that drew these two together. The ability to analyze, intimidate, and then take prey down. 

They reminded you of the guys. Mikey, Baji, and– No. You had to get him out of your head; this wasn't the time to think about Draken. 

Dinner ended less than an hour later as Hanma guided you out of the restaurant just as he guided you in. His warm hand on the small of your back comforted you and put you at ease around the volatile Tetta Kisaki.

The three of you stood awkwardly, each waiting for one of you to extend a farewell while Hanma dug in his pockets for his cigarettes. 

You finally mustered up the courage to say goodbye as the tiny click of Hanma's lighter finally reached your ears. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Kisaki. Hopefully, we'll see each other again soon?" You couldn’t help how your voice goes up as it came out as a question, not entirely sure if you actually want to see him soon. 

"Hopefully not. I did this to make Shuji shut up and don't plan on any other outings soon," His voice was sharp as a cruel smirk met his lips. You knew he was trying to hurt you. Hanma told you he probably would. 

It's all a part of Tetta's charm, don't let him get under your skin. The words rang clearly in your head as you plastered a sweet smile.

This only caused the man in front of you to furrow his brows in confusion. Looping your arm through Hanma's free arm, you leaned into him and stared at Kisaki with large doe eyes, spinning as much sugar as possible in your voice.   

"Whatever you say, glasses, see you soon!"

You didn’t give him a moment to react or retort, spinning on your heel and taking your laughing boyfriend with you. 

After being far enough away, Hanma's giggles finally dissipated, and as he stared at you under the night sky, he couldn’t help but utter, "Fuck, I think I'm in love with you, kitten."    

taglist: @mor-pheus @lady-lunaaa @gixxie @kenryug (if you would like to be added please send me an ask!)

[finnyboywolfhard]

Kiss It, Make It Better

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader 

summary: Y/N craves smoking with someone new, so who better than Steve Harrington. 

A/N: this is based solely on the ‘it’s only marijuana’ line in season three bc i am in love with stoner!Steve 

warnings: drugs <3, cursing, fluff 

word count: 2.4k 

Y/N and Dustin had the routine since Y/N got her license, that once a month they would have a sibling drive, in which they would drive around with the sole intent of getting caught up with one another. Given all the shit they had been through over the past few years, it naturally became their own special form of therapy. The Events of Starcourt on the Fourth of July and the days prior were once again weighing heavily on the two during their first drive since.

“What was it like being drugged?” Dustin asked, his curiosity weaving its way into his voice.

“Weird. It kinda felt like everything was the best thing ever, but it also came at the worst time. It was also weird that it was with Steve Harrington and Robin.”

“Is it like weed?”

“Is it like what?” Y/N knew the answer, it was no, but she had no idea why her little brother was deciding to ask her that in that exact moment.

“When you guys were drugged, I kept asking Steve if he did drugs, and he said that he only did marijuana. I wanted to know if they were comparable. So, is it like weed?”

“First off Dusty, you don’t ‘do’ marijuana, you smoke it. And secondly, I’m not answering that question, you can save that query for Steve.” Steve. Y/N had a lot of thoughts about him, it was interesting to hear about him from the rumors in high school in comparison to how she saw him act regularly. And ever since she started smoking to calm herself down, she has craved smoking with someone other than Robin, maybe Steve was worth a shot.

“Speaking of Steve, he said he might be over a lot over the next few nights while his parents are away, just so you know.”

“Oh? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, not tonight. He isn’t off work till 9 and mom doesn’t want him coming an hour before my dumbass bedtime— I still don’t get why she just NOW gave me a bedtime while you don’t even have a curfew.” Her brother started rambling, but all she could pay attention to was that he was going to be home alone tonight. Would it be that crazy of her to show up after all the trauma they had been through over the past 3 years?

“It’s because I’m legally an adult, so she’s treating me as such, and you’re just going into high school, she wants you to be safe. But okay, guess we’ll just have to see him soon.” The two drove around for a while longer before returning home. As the hours in between past, Y/N glanced towards her bookshelf, in which held a hidden stash of weed. She could always tell her mom she was just going to Robin’s, she would never try to prevent Y/N from seeing Robin.

She walked toward the bookshelf with soft footing, and with a gentle touch she plucked the hard covered book from the shelf. Inside lay two pre rolled joints she bought from her dealer and some bud Murray had snuck her after Hopper’s memorial. She snapped the book closed and tossed the book gently onto her bed. She put on a zip up hoodie and packed a fake sleepover bag. The books spine crackled gently as the cover was opened just enough for her to grab the pre-rolls out and into her pocket.

With backpack slung over her shoulders and her hands tucked securely in her pockets, Y/N strolled casually into the living room where her mother sat, as the minutes ticked quicker and quicker past 9:30–he was definitely home by now.

“Hey mom! Inhope you don’t mind but I’m gonna head over to Robin’s.”

“Oh! Did she call? I didn’t even hear the phone!”

“Oh no! She didn’t!” Y/N let in a gulp, she didn’t think this through. “She asked me a few days ago to come over tonight if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go until a little bit ago.”

“Ah, sounds like you, Do you wanna call her before you head over?” Claudia stood from her seat and began moving and motioning towards the phone.

“No!’ Y/N shrieked at her mother, who turned confusedly towards her. “Her mom goes to bed early and I told her that if I was gonna come it would be between 9 and 10, she assumes I’m coming, but I do really gotta get going.” Y/N glanced nervously at the clock, it was getting later and later and there comes a time where it’s a little uncomfortable to show up. Claudia glanced to the clock as well.

“Okay Y/N/N, you better get going.”

“Bye mom—“

“—Drive safe, be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Y/N said as she practically ran to her car. She turned her car on and began the drive towards his house, not even thinking twice about where she was going until the car came to a park in his driveway.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled at herself. She yelled at herself for being weird and for showing up unannounced. She calmed herself down by saying, “who wouldn’t want someone showing up with free weed? Don’t overthink it.” She pulled in a complete, deep breath and walked hesitantly to the door. Three knocks sounded off the door, her breath fluttering ever so slightly as she let her hand fall to her side. Footsteps could be heard from the opposite side of the door, stepping closer and closer by the second. The doorknob turned and Y/N’s attention snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy at large.

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Steve asked delightfully surprised. Her hand reached inside her pocket to pull one of the two joints. She lifted it from her pockets to where he could see it.

“Got a light?” She asked with a smirk.

After finding a lighter, the two made their way to his backyard. They sat parallel to one another in their chaise chairs. Y/N flicked the lighter a few times before sparking up the first joint of the night. She pulled a large huff in and held it as she passed the joint to Steve. He took in a long drag, holding the joint in front of him to inspect it after he hit it. A few seconds after Y/N had released her hit, Steve started coughing a bunch.

“Jesus Y/N, where the hell did you get this?” Steve said through the gasps for air.

“Good shit, huh?” Y/N joked as she inhaled another hit. The two fell into a rhythm of passing it back and forth as conversation allowed itself to flood the air.

“So what made you come here Y/N?” Steve pondered towards the girl.

“Dusty started asking me about when we were drugged, and apparently you told him you smoked weed. And, as much as I love Robin, I need someone new to smoke with, and you’re not AWFUL to hang out with.” Y/N explained, with sarcasm dripping from the last sentence.

“Wow, I feel so touched. Truly, I feel like the luckiest man alive. THE Y/N Henderson chose ME to smoke with. Best day of my life.” Steve rambled on, matching the sarcastic tone Y/N started with. The two laughed for a bit together, before Y/N spoke through the giggles.

“I am sorry for just showing up, I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“What? Am I that scary?”

“You’re THE King Steve, you’re the coolest, hottest guy at Hawkins. I was so intimidated by your male wiles. I am begging at your feet Steve Harrington.” Y/N mocked other girls she had witnessed in Hawkins. “No you’re not scary, I just couldn’t bring myself to say ‘Hey Steve, want to do some drugs with me?’ on our family phone, it didn’t feel right.” Steve let out a chuckle and a ‘fair enough’. It fell silent for a moment as the joint had its final hits taken from it.

“Why haven’t we hung out before? I mean away from all the traumatizing shit.” Steve asked slowly as he let himself sink down into the chair.

“Different friend groups before it all and then after and during it all, I didn’t and don’t want to impede on you and Dustin’s time. Plus neither of us have asked each other anyway.”

“That’s not true, I invited you to the movies that one day you stopped into scoops alone.”

“Yeah after I had already told you I was babysitting that night, you didn’t even ask to reschedule.”

“Yes I absolutely—didn’t. I didn’t.” Steve said, confidence dissipating. Y/N couldn’t help but focus to each small feature of his face one by one. Sure, she had looked at him but she never looked at him. He really was beautiful.

Jokes and stories were told between the two, laughter and exaggerated stories filled the bubble they put themselves in. In those moments, there was no one else in the world but Steve and Y/N.

“And that’s how Mike Wheeler broke his finger in our backyard.” Y/N let out through a fit of giggles. Steve clutched his stomach as he let himself fall back into the chair from the gut busting laughter Y/N had sent him into. As he got more comfortable, he glanced down at his watch. His eyes bulged at the time.

“Holy shit.” He said flustered, eyes never leaving the watch face.

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s almost 2 A.M.”

“Oh damn…” Y/N said, a dangerously fun smile finding its way to her face. Her hand reached towards the second joint in her pocket. “So this would be of no interest to you?” Steve’s squinted eyes opened just a peep. He let out a long whine.

“I think I’m too high to even move…but that looks so good.” Y/N looked between him and the joint. She noticed space for her to sit on the edge of his chair, and placed herself there. She placed the joint between her lips and gave it a light, waiting for the rolling paper burn down to the weed. From between her lips, she pulled the joint between her fingers and held it gently up to his. He took in a pull, never once releasing eye contact. With each consecutive hit, the distance between them drew closer and closer, eventually leaving their faces merely inches apart. Her fingers were so far back on the joint, they grazed his lips as he took in one of the final hits. Her fingers tingled from his touch. She glanced towards his eyes, his meeting hers already. The air around them went still and quiet. Their eyes were locked on each other, contact never wavering as their bodies moved towards one another like a magnet. His eyes stayed put on hers as his voice fell in the air.

“Give me one more.” Her hand lifted lightly and placed itself at his lips once more. The joint glowed a bright red as he inhaled the smoke. Y/N was so enraptured by his beauty, she didn’t notice the joint burning down to a nub. She watched as a cloud of smoke was blown from his lips and into the sky, before the heat had finally reached her touch.

“Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed as she dropped the roach to the ground. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, attempting to ease the burning feeling. The burn wasn’t bad, just a little redness but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Hey, let me see it.” Steve’s tone was much gentler now as he lifted her hand into his own. He raised her gently by her wrist to examine the burnt fingers. He delicately placed the burnt fingers to his lips and gave them a tiny little kiss.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He whispered, just barely audible to her ears. That’s what was so shocking about Steve, his heart was so filled with love and care. He did his best to make everyone feel protected, even if his popular guy persona overshadowed it at times.

“How are you so perfect?” Her voice came out quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her once more and without much thought, he closed the distance. The kiss was gentle and loving, but clearly stoked by passion. His lips upturned into a smile. She leaned back and traced her fingers across her lips. Just to make sure she didn’t imagine it, she pulled the boy towards her by the collar and planted one more kiss on him—and she noted that he kissed back with the same fervor.

“I have a crush on you Steve Harrington.” She said, hiding her blushing face from the boy. He turned her face towards him as he confessed,

“I’ve had a crush on you for like 3 months.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” He said, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

“Why?”

“Dustin talks about you enough, and I—uh I remembered all the times you’ve kicked ass over the past few years and it just kinda…happened. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart, badass, and beautiful as you?” He rambled our haphazardly, a blush forming across his cheeks as well.

“Steve…”

“Oh god, that was embarrassing, am I blushing? I feel like I’m blushing. fuck me.” Steve started rambling.

“Hey! It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute.” Y/N explained, but it didn’t seem to help. An idea flashed in her mind. “Oh no! You are so embarrassing, I am embarrassed. Ew, guess I

I’ll just have to close my eyes! I hope that embarrassing Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss me!” The sarcastic tone from earlier returning once more. A chuckle bubbled past Steve’s lips. He once more laid one on her, this time—a little bit more passionate than the past.

Y/N nuzzled herself into Steve’s side on the small beach chair they were on. The air sat comfortably still in that moment, the two reeling from the overwhelming emotions they had just felt. Quiet giggles pierce the air as Y/N studies her fingers.

“It worked.” She said matter of factly.

“What worked?”

“After you kissed it, I haven’t thought about it since. You made it better.” Y/N spoke melodically. Steve planted a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer in to him.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He repeated once more.

[multiverse-muse]

A Pretty Cage is Still a Cage

magic!reader x loki, not quite canon compliant, also on my ao3

“Have you enjoyed learning from the strange doctor?” You control your urge to grin wide as you turn to face Loki. You were taking a break in the compound’s library, which was barely ever occupied beyond yourself.

“It’s Doctor Strange.” You correct, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him, but you can’t hide your smile.

“That’s what I said.” Loki said.

“I’ve actually been training with Wanda, thank you very much. Stephen’s technique was a little too...intellectual for me. Theory learning and such.”

“No wonder you left his teaching, your magic is inane and hardly helped through books.” Loki paused. “Midgardian books, anyway. I’m sure even his Sanctum does not have half the amount of material as my own library.”

“I can’t tell if you’re bragging or still trying to be mean about Stephen.” Loki simply grinned, giving an elegant shrug. You roll your eyes. “Welcome back, Loki.”

“I’m not back for long. Thor wanted to check in on something quickly and then we’re headed back. I was hoping you’d return with us.” Loki explained. You simply blinked at him for a long moment before realizing your mouth was hanging open.

“Wait, wait, me? Going to Asgard?” With you?” You sputter.

“And my brother, but yes, you’ve gotten the gist of it. You need a good teacher if you are to master your magic.”

“Oh, no way. I would stick out like a sore thumb in Asgard. A very ugly, very sore thumb.” You argue. A frown crosses Loki’s face.

“You should know, you’re quite a pretty thumb. Far and away prettier than most. Asgard can hardly prepare itself for you.” Loki retorts. You frown and squint your eyes at him.

“I still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

*

You had not been practicing your magic very long. Nor had you known Loki, Thor, and the other Avengers very long. You had met them only a few months ago, when a Hydra unit hit your hometown, looking for mutants to use in an army. All they found was you: you who had only had your abilities awoken during the scuffle with Hydra. After they were defeated, the Avengers offered you a place at their compound. They knew plenty of magic users who could help teach you or, if you had preferred, they had connections to Professor Xavier. You had declined that offer, preferring to learn from Loki.

Loki himself had not been with the Avengers long. After the death of his mother and his own revelation of sorts, he’d given up on conquest. He still longed for the throne, but now he planned to simply outlive Thor. Which, really, he thought wouldn’t take long, considering how many foolish things Thor gets himself involved with. His presence in the Avengers Compound made him an easy teacher to access.

This set up nicely for the two of you to become quick friends. Both on the outside of the circle, looking in and feeling out of place. Loki was better at hiding it, of course, and to an extent he did prefer to stay out of the spotlight. At least, when it came to the Avengers.

Now, you stood between the two brothers at the Bifrost, having just passed through the nauseating space tunnel thing that Thor uses to travel. Asgard loomed before you, beautiful and decadent and otherworldly. Which it was, you supposed. That and incredibly overwhelming.

“Welcome to our home.” Thor said.

“I’ve already alerted King Odin of your arrival.” You turn and spot a man who could only be Heimdall. You can’t help but appreciate his form even as the thought of Odin terrified you.

“Thank you, Heimdall.” Thor introduced the two of you officially before the two of you and Loki approached the main palace.

“What if your father doesn’t like me?” It bursts from your mouth before you can stop it and you reach out and grab onto Loki’s arm. “What if he sends me back to Earth?”

“Then he’ll only prove his own foolishness.” Loki waved away your concern easily. He took the hand on his arm and placed it in the crook of his elbow, so he was now leading you as you walked. The three of you are met at the door by a guard, joined by others as you walked, and by the time you reached the throne hall, you all had an entourage of nearly a dozen men. Someone on the other side of the door announced your presence and the door began to open. You hastily try to pull your hand from Loki’s arm, though he held tight and sent you a frowning glance.You tugged again but couldn’t budge from him.

“My sons!” Odin greeted from the throne. He was just as intimidating as you’d expected and if not for your hand still being in Loki’s grasp, you’re sure you would’ve either fainted or ran back out the door. “And our honored guest! Welcome to Asgard, milady.”

“Oh, ah, th-thank you!” You squeak out, then whisper to Thor, “Do I bow? Curtsy?”

“You may do either, if you feel the need but I do not require anyone to do so, particularly guests who may be unaware of traditions.” Odin eased your worry. He and the boys spoke for a moment before his attention turned back to you. “Now, as I understand, you are learning magic from my son. I’m curious to see where your abilities lie now, before his teaching.”

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” You glance at Loki and Thor with wide eyes before facing King Odin fully. You take a deep breath and raise your hands. One thing you’d learned while training with Dr. Strange and Wanda was that your powers came from feelings, not thoughts. As such, your magic tended to be temperamental. This time however, you channeled your nervousness into a solid energy and opened your eyes to see orbs of pale yellow light floating through the chamber.

“It’s not much.” You admit, lowering your hands. The orbs hang for a few moments before they start to fade, one by one. One falls to the floor and changes shape into that of a cat, which nudges Loki’s leg before disappearing. “But I’m learning.”

“I expect my son will do a good job teaching you, I am curious to see your abilities develop. Now, I allow you all to retire and clean up, for there will be a festive dinner tonight to celebrate your arrival home.” You’re all escorted from the throne room and then led to your chambers. The boys obviously knew where their own rooms were but neither seemed sure where you were meant to go. That question was answered by one of the guards stationed outside Thor’s room.

“One of the spare rooms connecting to Prince Loki’s chambers has been fitted out as a guest’s chambers. King Odin assumed she’d want to be near those she knew.” You sighed with relief even as your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected to be staying so close to Loki.

“Good, good! I will meet the two of you before dinner.” Thor grinned at you and Loki before entering his room. The guards continued to escort you and Loki down the hallway.

“Where’s your room?” You ask. You feel Loki’s arm tense and realize you’ve left your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Just another hallway or so down. Impatient to get into my private chambers?” Loki smirked and you rolled your eyes in response.

“I believe I remember someone promising me that the baths here are fantastic. I didn’t know if I should take one before dinner.” You said. You’re led down a set of stairs to another floor. Loki takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing on down the stairs. The lights seemed to be more abrasive down here, the air cooler. The guards finally stop at a door and gesture you towards it.

“Well, here we are. Home, sweet home.” Loki finally lets your hand drop free and he strolls into the room. After a moment of silence and looking at the guards, you finally follow him through. The first room is simply an antechamber and had three doors leading out. One was still closed, one leading further into a living room style chamber and the last seemed to be a bathroom of sorts. There were no windows in any of the rooms that you could see. The colors were all muted and it felt even chillier in here than in the hallway. You followed Loki into the living room.

“Why is it so…” You trailed off, not wanting to offend Loki if this was how he had meant his rooms to be.

“Bland? Oppressive?” Loki offered.

“I was going to say cold.” You mumble.

“Yes, that too.” Loki lets out a long sigh. “They don’t trust me in the royal corridor. They want me somewhere easy to watch, so they can keep an eye on me. They trust me only enough to go out with Thor. When he is gone, this is where I remain.”

“That’s...sad.” You said. Loki turned to you with a mild glare.

“I do not want your pity.” He snapped. You shake your head.

“No pity, Loki, it’s just sympathy.” You look around the room. Loki had obviously lived here a while: books littered every shelf and flat surface, a few pieces of clothing were tossed over furniture. But it still felt stifling, like there wasn’t quite room to breath. “They’re still keeping you locked up.”

“At least I’m no longer in the prison even further below, locked in a cage among those mongrels.” Loki all but snarls.

“It doesn’t matter how pretty it is, Loki, a cage is still a cage.” You regard the room again while Loki regards you. He walks over to you, looking contemplative.

“You’re the only one who sees this the way I do. My father tells me he loves me, yet there’s chains on the door at night.” Loki muses.

“Really?” You ask in disbelief.

“No, of course not, simple chains would not stop me.” Loki gives you a sly grin and you just give him a deadpan stare. “But, thank you for the...sympathy. Now, go on to your room. Make sure you look decent. If you get bored, you know where to find me.”

*

Dinner was not as wild an affair as you’d feared it would be. Thor explained that feasts were more festive, but a simple welcome home ‘fancy dinner’ was not enough of a cause for the Asgardians to go crazy. Not since Thor and Loki now returned home regularly, anyway. You were quiet all through dinner, mostly due to nerves and the fear that you’d open your mouth and call Odin out for how he still locked Loki away like a bird.

Dinner and the next few days melted away quickly. During morning hours, Loki trained you to use your powers. Afternoons were spent exploring Asgard, meeting people, and warrior training. You didn’t participate in the warrior training. That was specifically for Loki and Thor, occasionally with Sif, the Warriors Three, and/or Brunnhilde. Mostly you read through these sessions, enjoying the outdoors but staying far removed from the scuffles.

“She’s not looking, you can stop trying to show off.” Brunnhilde said, clipping Loki on the shoulder as they were sparring.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked. Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and easily ducked the strike of his dagger. There was a reason Loki preferred magic to actual combat.

“You’ve been showing off, hoping she’s watching. We’re not dumb.” She glances over to Thor and Volstagg, who were tangled in some strange wrestling. “I’m not dumb.” She replied. She disarmed him easily and then knocked him onto his ass. Without thinking, he glanced at you, though you were too absorbed in the book you held and didn’t see him looking so foolish. Loki sighed in relief and then started when Brunnhilde snorted.

“You brothers and your Midgardians.” She strut off over to Sif and Loki had to help himself up out of the dirt.

*

“See, you’re not terrible at this.” Loki said.

“Thanks.” You reply sarcastically, concentrating on the pale yellow shield you’d managed to form around yourself. “That sounds an awful lot like you mean I’m not good at it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Loki grins. You roll your eyes and the magic shield drops. You lower your hands and throw yourself onto the nearby couch. It was easiest for you both to train in Loki’s chambers than to go to any other space where you’d have a handful of guards watching your and Loki’s everymove.

“Can I be done? For a little while?” You grumble. Magic was hard. Magic was tiring. And spending so much time with Loki was making you worry that your heart was going to give out.

“We’ve barely begun.” Loki replies, though he joins you on the couch.

“We can just chill for a while. You’ve been training me and then training with Thor, you must be exhausted.” You say. He simply hums in reply, waving his hand and making a book appear. You grin to yourself, before settling more comfortably into the couch. Every once in a while, Loki would read a passage of the book aloud to you, if he thought it funny or clever or interesting.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking awake slowly. You panicked a moment as someone touched you before realizing it was just someone playing with your hair. It took another moment to realize who it must have been. You were draped across Loki, your head in his lap while he kept reading, his free hand running through your hair. You close your eyes to savor the moment. Loki chuckles lowly to himself and you take a breath to steel yourself.

“What’s funny?” You mumble. Loki’s hand immediately disappears from your hair.

“Just the author being an incompetent fool.” Loki answers. You finally sit up, rubbing your eyes, while Loki gives you a mildly amused look. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You whine, blushing. Loki sets his book to the side and shifts slightly to face you more.

“Someone came by while you slept. My father is preparing a feast to celebrate the beginning of Jul. As an honored guest of his sons, you are required to go.” Loki’s face formed into an unhappy frown. “As a son, I am required to go.”

“So...like the welcoming feast but worse?” You ask. Loki rises, returning his book to the shelf but answering you as he goes.

“The dinner you attended on your first night was not even a true feast. This feast will last for hours, go late into the evening, requires dancing, and almost certainly will end with my brother being so drunk he does something ridiculous.”

“Oh. Wait! What am I supposed to wear?” You ask. When you’d arrived, you’d been brought a variety of garments to choose from. You preferred pants and a top over the dresses that were offered to you, though they were pretty. Simple Asgardian clothing was still fancier than anything you’d ever owned back on Earth. Even still, everything you had at your disposal was not suited for a fancy gathering.

“Clothing, probably.” Loki’s grin turned mischievous. “Or nothing, if you’d prefer, though I would suggest keeping to the chambers if you decide to run around nude.” You throw the pillow from the couch at him, which he easily waves away with a chuckle.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? You ass.” You scoff at him, trying to hide the blush rising. You rise from the couch, checking the clock on the wall. You’d barely learned to read the Asgardian script but you could tell it was time for lunch. Your attention was dragged back to Loki as he approached you.

“Is that such a problem, if I would enjoy it?” Loki asked lowly, reaching up and tucking some hair back behind your ear. You really were blushing now, hardly able to keep eye contact with him.

“Loki-” You were cut off as a bang! came from the door.

“Brother! Y/N!” Thor called from beyond the door. You rushed away from Loki, feeling suddenly very out of breath and very disappointed. You opened the door to reveal a grinning Thor. “Volstagg and his family has invited us for lunch, if you liked to join.”

“That sounds nice.” You say without thinking. You both look towards Loki who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll stay and eat here, I’d rather not deal with the miniature Volstaggs running around.” Loki comments. You deflated a bit but Thor looked even more disappointed. So you held your tongue, still agreeing to go with Thor, and waved goodbye to Loki, promising to see him later.

***

The next few weeks were spent as the last few, except now most attendees of Odin were running around in a buzz, setting up for the Jul feast. You and Loki had both seemingly decided not to acknowledge whatever it was that was happening before Thor had interrupted you both. Loki had assured you that he’d take care of your attire for the feast, so you had nothing to worry about other than learning Asgardian dances so as not to make a fool of yourself.

More often than not, it was Sif or Brunnhilde who took the time to teach you. Loki and Thor were getting pulled into meetings and off-world visitations with Odin, leaving you to the girls and Warriors Three. You didn’t mind it so much. Brunnhilde was certainly becoming a fast friend and who couldn’t like Volstagg? The others were still in the acquaintance category, though that was changing too.

The morning of the feast, you woke early (though there were no windows with which to really tell the time). You were a ball of nerves and as the day went on, they simply got worse. Loki was nowhere to be found in his chambers or the common areas you two shared. The guard outside the door (only one, since Loki wasn’t present) assures you he’d return to fetch you for the feast and that lunch would be brought to you. So you spent the majority of the afternoon into evening by yourself, fretting and pacing around, while occasionally trying to concentrate on practicing your magic.

You’re startled in the early evening when the main door flies open, Loki sweeping into a room with an armful of boxes.

“I’ve got your dress here, we’d better dress quickly, as my father is an impatient man and it will do us better to arrive fashionably on time rather than late.” Loki said this as he handed you a box. “I’d much rather wait and make a dramatic entrance, but alas.”

“Thanks,” You mumble, taking the box from him. It was quite heavy.

“I’ll have your shoes set out here whenever you’re done.” Loki’s voice followed you to your room. You shut the door softly behind you and then dumped the box on the bed, carefully pulling out the dress from within. The green fabric was a heavy velvet type, but soft and you hoped it wouldn’t be too warm. It wasn’t until you’d stripped and pulled the dress on that you’d realized the type of neckline it had.

“Loki!” You screech, all but stomping out of your room and into the common room. You hands held up the very low neckline and covered the expanse of chest and cleavage it left exposed. Loki’s door was slightly ajar and he poked his head around to look at you. A slow grin worked its way across his face. “I can’t wear this!”

“Obviously you can. Give me a moment to fully dress.” Loki disappeared back behind his door, though you could swear you heard him chuckling slightly.

You went back to the mirror in your room and examined yourself in the dress. The heavy velvet helped the dress lay in a flattering way across your body, down to the floor, though the long slit in the front made you nervous to walk. The bardot neckline would’ve been nice had it been an inch or so higher, but currently it showed off a little too much of your chest for you to be comfortable, especially considering the v-shaped notch in the front that showed off a hint of the skin between your breasts. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were just a thick band of the same velvet and surprisingly didn’t restrict your movement too much.

“Alright, what was the issue?” Loki called. You slowly trudged to the shared room, moving your arms back up to cover your chest. And you stilled in the doorway. Loki has always cleaned up nicely but you’d never seen him go all out in a suit and tie. It was a very modern, very Earth style outfit, all black except for the silky green shirt beneath the jacket (a green that nearly matched the color of your dress, you noted absentmindedly). He had smoothed his hair back so it lay across his shoulders but out of his face. As you looked him up and down, he did the same to you. “You’ve not even put on the shoes.”

Loki picked up a box near the couch before approaching you, opening it to reveal dainty and strappy golden heels. When you didn’t make a move to take them, he rolled his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re meant to put them on.” Loki said.

“I-I can’t bend over to put them on.” You said distractedly, eyes still lingering on his lean form. He huffed but tugged on your arm, leading you to the couch.

“Sit.” You did. You kept your arms covering your chest but almost dropped them in surprise when Loki knelt, slipping the shoes on your feet quickly and with ease. “There, now, up.” You stood shakily, though the heels proved to be sturdier than they appeared.

“I can’t wear this to the feast, Loki.” You repeated. Loki shook his head.

“And why not? I chose this style especially for you, picked out the fabric and everything.” Loki...was he pouting? “There’s no time for a new one to be made.”

“I didn’t need a special made dress. I would’ve stood out badly enough in a regular Asgardian dress. This is....too much. For me.” You almost reach out to him but at the last minute remember what your hands are covering. The small movement catches Loki’s gaze and he frowns again, nearly unnoticeable but there. He reaches out slowly, taking both of your wrists in his hands.

His eyes seek yours, anticipating you to stop him, but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to do so. If there’s anyone is this realm you trust, it’s Loki.He pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them down between the two of you. His eyes sweep across your figure and you can’t stop the heat rising to your face, your ears.

“Just a moment, dear.” Loki disappears into his room for just a moment before emerging again, something cradled in his hands. He pockets it before pulling your hair up and away from your neck , though if he makes it stay with pins or magic, you aren’t sure. Then from his pocket he pulls out the necklace he’d fetched from his room. It’s all dainty gold chain, except for the large emerald colored jewel hanging in the center.

You shiver as his hands go around your neck, fastening the necklace. It sits heavily along your chest, the many loops of chains almost tickling your skin. The stone sits nicely just above the middle of your breasts, a large shimmering stone that complemented the dress nicely. When Loki didn’t remove his hands, you finally gain the courage to look up at him. His gaze lingers a moment longer on your chest before meeting your gaze. He almost looks tinged rosy himself but he offers a soft smile and steps back.

“There. Perfection in mortal form.” Loki smiles at his work and, yes, it is a beautiful outfit, but you are still distracted with the amount of skin you’re exposing. “Any more unnecessary complaints?”

“No.” You mumble. Loki was not going to let you change, you’d finally accepted that. “Loki, are you really wearing an Earth suit? To an Asgardian feast?”

“I thought it looked quite fetching, and judging by your staring earlier, I would assume you did as well.” You shot him an unamused and slightly blushing look. “Besides, I am one of the royals Princes, and Gods know Thor never looks the part.” You snort at that, shaking your head.

“They’re gonna stare, so much.” You whine. Loki smiles.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

***

“You look ready to die.” Brunnhilde says as she sidles up to you. You nearly jump out of your skin, your drink sloshing almost out of the glass.

“No one is talking to me, no one has asked me to dance.” You hiss at her. You’d watched as the evening wore on and many people had approached the other women for dances. Loki and Thor had been swept into the political meet-and-greets so you’d been sitting mostly alone, save for the few times Brunnhilde or Sif had stopped to check on you. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, you can blame Loki for no one trying to dance with you, you know.” Brunnhilde said. At your confused look she sighed and pointed at your necklace. It glimmered even in the dim room and seemed to swirl with magic. “That necklace is like a land claim. He’s using it to warn other men to stay away from you.”

“What?” You reach up to handle the stone, which was warm to the touch. You frown at the idea of Loki’s possessiveness and try to unhook it from your neck. Your fingers scramble against the back of the necklace but find no purchase: there was no way to remove it.

“To be fair,” Brunnhilde continues, sipping her drink, “You do look incredible in that dress. I can’t blame him for wanting to keep you to himself.” You clumsily excuse yourself from her company, heading straight for an empty balcony. You needed the fresh air, to breath. You stood out there for who knows how long before you sensed a presence behind you.

“Are you out here hiding?” Loki asked, joining you at the railing. You turn to him with a furrowed brow.

“No, not that it matters. No one in there would speak with me anyway.” You say and a confused look crosses his face, before you jab your finger towards the necklace around your neck. The confused look fades into almost a sheepish look but that too quickly disappears.

“I suppose Brunnhilde told you what it implies? I saw the two of you speaking.”

“Yes, she did tell me. Unlike you.” You cross your arms. The movement causes Loki to glance down and his eyes linger on your gilded chest. Realizing this, you quickly uncross your arms. You poke him in the chest. “Quit, just- Stop staring!”

“My apologies, it can be hard to look away from an image so tantalizing.” Loki curls his hand around the one you’d used to poke him. He didn’t let it go, simply held on to it, connecting the two of you.

“Stop teasing me.” You huff.

“How am I teasing? I am stating the truth.” He says it simply.

“Loki,” You start but nearly choke on the feeling of your heart in your throat. Why is it that Loki, that liking Loki, can make you so nervous?

“Yes, ástin mín?” You pause, taken aback by the use of the Asgardian language.

“What? What does that mean?” You ask. Loki sighs, not out of impatience or annoyance but as if to steel himself.

“I recognize I have perhaps been unfair to you, Y/N.” Loki says, his thumb lightly rubbing the one of yours that he is holding. “I had you wear the necklace for myself, not for you. I reasoned that it would protect you from untoward advances, thought it didn’t cross my mind you might would have wanted the attention.”

“I’m-what? No, no, I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with other people in there.” You shake your head. “I just felt like no one wanted to have anything to do with me because I’m an outsider.”

“I’m sorry that I am the cause of you feeling such a way. Might you forgive me?” Loki asks. You smile but smile meekly up at him.

“Only if you tell me what you called me a minute ago.” You say. Loki stills.

“Ask of me anything else and I’ll oblige.” Loki says. He keeps his eyes down, away from you. He tries to pull his hand from you but you hold on tighter to him.

“Nothing you could say could make me leave, Loki.” You say, sounding confident despite your nerves. “You could call me an old hag and I’d still...You’d still be my favorite person.”

“You would still?” Curse Loki and his unwavering attentiveness. You shake your head, unable to say the words. Loki’s expression lifts, a slight smile curling across his features. He takes one step towards you, then another, until there is barely any space between you.

“If you would stop me,” Loki says, his voice almost a whisper as he leans closer to you, “Do so now, before I cannot stop myself.” You say nothing.

The kiss is soft at first, a tentative touch. Loki was waiting for you to stop him, you realize. To refuse him. You reach up with your free hand and grasp his lapel lightly. It’s a light touch but it's enough for him to feel and understand. He drops the hand of yours he had been holding so he could bring both of his hands to your face, cradling your face between his hands as he pulls away just slightly from you.

The look on Loki’s face is an extraordinary one. All of his armor had fallen away and you were finally seeing him as he wanted to be. He was unguarded and looking at you as if you were the only source of warmth he’d found in decades.

“Ástin mín. It means my love.” You can’t help but stare at Loki at those words, heart pounding in your chest. Even as your heart stutters, you tug on his jacket, tugging him back to you.

This kiss is more heated, less slow. Loki’s hands still curl around your face, sliding into your hair and pulling you ever closer. You loop your arms around his neck, thankful for the heels that boost your height just enough to do so without stretching terribly far. The kiss is needy, as Loki pulls you impossibly close to him.

“Excuse me, sire.” The two of you part at the words, Loki barely tilting his head to look towards the guard.

“What is it?” Loki asks, bitingly. He hands dropped from your face to your hips, still holding you near him.

“Your father says that your presence is being missed.” The guard speaks uneasily, obviously unnerved by Loki’s glare.

“My father can wait. Now, leave us.” Loki orders. The guard does not hesitate to scramble back inside. Loki looks back to you, with an amused look on his face. “Do you even see what you’re doing?”

“What?” You look around and see magic orbs of yellow floating around the two of you, swirls of the same magic wrapping around the two of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Feeling-based magic is a bit of a giveaway, is it not?” Loki teases softly and you bury your head into his chest, groaning in embarrassment. He laughs lightly, a laugh you’ve so rarely heard. “I cannot complain, I suppose. It is gratifying to see the reaction I cause within you.”

“You are going to be so insufferable.” You mumble into his chest. You sense the smile on his face and end up smiling yourself when you feel him plant a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I suppose we’d better head back to the feast, before my father sends Thor after us. That’s not a conversation I feel particularly up to. And if we’re lucky, we’ll sneak away early.”

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2021! Below you’ll find One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

Game Changer by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 6k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?”

“He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?”

Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

(I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

[Harry/Niall, 12k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. Far from his family and friends in Ireland, Niall is stuck living in a complex for Alpha/Omega bondmates, terrified every day of being found out by his landlord.As if that isn't enough, he's suffering from touch deprivation. Luckily, Niall's doctor can at least help him with that part: she prescribes Niall some cuddle sessions. It's only a little weird that the person she's prescribing him is her brother. Or maybe that's actually a little bit perfect.

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

[Liam/Zayn, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Liam had followed InZaynity, an artist's Instagram, for ages. Not only was the artist incredibly talented, his voice poured over Liam like warm honey on a winter's night, and his hands were the stuff Liam's wank dreams were made of. However, having Zayn unexpectedly arrive as the newest artist at his best friend's tattoo shop brought Liam's fantasies and reality a little too close for comfort.

Zayn Malik met his boss' friend on his first day at Fine Line Tattoos, and felt an instant attraction. Unfortunately, given Liam's unwillingness to even hold a conversation with him, Zayn was certain the feelings weren't reciprocal. Or were they?

When Liam's new tattoo design falls outside the scope of Tommo's talent, and he recommends Zayn do it, Liam reluctantly agrees. Surely he could manage to spend hours in Zayn's company without revealing his biggest secret, right? Right?

Blow Me Away by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Liam, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires

[Louis/Harry, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls. Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) by @lululawrence

[Harry/Louis, 7k, Not rated, tumblr post]

“Stand up.”

Harry stood up from the couch, not a moment’s delay.

“Oh my god, is that what that’s like?” Harry turned to Louis, surprise on his face. “I really thought they were somehow exaggerating, but it really is an automatic response with absolutely no thought from me behind it whatsoever.”

Louis sighed again. “You really wanna keep doing this? Have me use my alpha voice on you so you can work on resisting it?”

“Yup,” Harry said, clapping his hands and smiling. “How else am I going to be able to have any chance at reducing the power an alpha voice has on me?”

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by @lululawrence

[Liam/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Not rated, tumblr post]

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it.

Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

Oh, Those Summer Nights by cherrylarry / @beelou

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

“Are you okay?” He kneels down to inspect where Harry still has his hand pressed against his head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.”

“My name’s Louis. Can I buy you dinner or something to make up for hitting you in the head?”

Harry crinkles his eyebrows. “Me?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, you. If you’d like?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Harry smiles so that his dimples show. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry, it's a date, then." Louis grins.

An extended scene of the beginning of the movie Grease as a larry au

people fall in love in mysterious ways (maybe just the touch of a hand) by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers, @justalarryblog / Bekita, @bluecolouredlou , @beelou / cherrylarry, @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain, @hershelsue / docklands, @foreverfanficaddict,@idolizingthelight / idolizingthelightt, @inlockets / loveroflou, @perfectdagger, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 13k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Set in a world where meeting your soulmate causes a literal spark, Louis Tomlinson has no time for fate. He knows all too well the heartbreak that having a soulmate can bring and he'd rather avoid the whole affair. But, when a chance meeting with up-and-coming popstar, Harry Styles, causes the biggest electrical surge the world has ever seen, Louis must confront the truth that sometimes destiny knocks when you least expect it.

Somehow, Someway by @zanniscaramouche

[Louis/Harry, 16k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis Tomlinson has everything all figured out for a smooth post-graduation sailing into the perfect career in the music industry. A canceled class, a high school play, and a disarming set of dimples were not part of the plan. (Especially when they belong to a boy wearing someone else’s jacket.)

Featuring: A punk with the worst timed crush in history, that moody art kid that never shares cigarettes, the cutest pastel-pink wearing boy on the planet, and his unfortunately nice bottle-blond jock of a boyfriend.

Forts & Fortunes by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

It’s finals week at uni and Harry is struggling to find a healthy balance between studying and tending to his needs. Lucky for him, Louis is there to help him out with that.

One way to reduce tension by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry knows of a few ways to help Louis get rid of some pent up stress…

We Got a Call by @greenblueish / bluegreenish

[Louis/Harry, 24k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Fisher from St Peter hospital, hello. Is this Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in concern. Why is the hospital calling him? Has someone he knows been in an accident? “Uh, yes?”

“Great. Your results are in. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” he chokes, the word almost getting caught in his throat.

“Yes, without doubt,” the woman from the hospital confirms, her voice neutral but somehow chirpy. “I recommend promptly booking an appointment with your ob/gyn to discuss how to proceed.”

"I...Yeah, I’ll talk to my … partner.”

or, the one where Louis and Harry Tomlinson are married and Louis accepts a phone call that was definitely meant for his husband.

How Long Will We Fall (Before We Can Climb) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 860 words, General, tumblr post]

Louis' faith in Harry is unbreakable. When they get caught kissing and he is thrown out of his home forever, he has to learn to have faith in himself.

Rope, Leather and Lipstick by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 552 words, Mature, tumblr post]

Something about ropes around wrists, and tinting skin the colour of strawberry ice cream, tender and kissed by dark lips. Smudging sticky red lipstick across the slight blue shadow of veins, and assuring hands tightening knots.

Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 34k, Mature, tumblr post]

Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.

Sugar at Night by @brightgolden

[Harry/Louis, 33k, Explicit, tumblr post]

With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Liam, 9k, Mature, tumblr post]

It’s not desire that has his synapses firing. It’s not the urge to jump him that makes him feel jittery.

It’s the fact that everything about this man - a nice, unassuming guy on Tinder, who studied IT and who seemed like a safe choice - screams danger. It’s the fact that Zayn has been absently touching his necklace for what feels like half the night now.

The necklace. Thank God for Lou, honestly. He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend, but right now? Right now Zayn will gladly take the gentle ribbing from Louis if it means he won’t have to spend another moment with this guy.

I don't care if the world knows by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry is fourteen when she buys her first binder. She’s been doing cosplay videos on Tiktok for a while at that point, and it seems like the logical choice. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosplaying characters of the opposite gender and not wanting to fully look like them, she’s seen plenty of wonderful creators put their own spin on characters in a way that transcends the source material, but when it comes to her own cosplays -

She just likes it to be accurate.

She likes her chest to be flat, not soft and curvy, when she’s wearing her Crowley cosplay, or when she’s transformed herself into Loki.

It’s all about the aesthetics.

∞

Over the course of a few years, Harry explores and comes to terms with gender identity.

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry's never really concerned herself with being part of the popular crowd. But as the new girl in school the second semester of her junior year, she finds herself unwittingly competing for Queen Bee status against high school royalty Louis Tomlinson. Maybe there's more to their rivalry than it seems.

A not-quite-Mean Girls AU

Going Green (so fucking green) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry just really loves being used, and Louis really loves Harry. Who is he to deny him?

Or: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but make it BDSM

the next bit was spanners to my plan by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Nick Grimshaw, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

The first time was an accident. The second time was an accident too.

Or: Louis and Nick end up shagging on the sly, everyone sends far too many emojis and far too few words, and eventually they're going to have to sort themselves out.

Trust Me Tonight by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.

Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.

There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

Can we make it any more obvious? by LouStylesHTommo / @smolhilariousbeans

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

Aka Niall, Zayn, Liam being supportive of Lou&H sexy shenanigans.

darling just dive right in by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Louis, 5k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis can’t think of a worse place to be than at the Malik estate, attending his ex boyfriend's wedding.

Shining just for you by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @hlhome28

[Harry/Louis, 1k, General, tumblr post]

For a clumsy person, Harry danced with quite the grace- spinning around Louis, billowy light robes brushing against his firm darker ones. Despite his slightly smaller build, Louis was decivingly strong, his grip on Harry's waist tight as they performed their steps in sync. Like two opposite halves of a whole, like ones reflection in the mirror, like the sun and the moon.

Part 2 of the Prompt Generator series

crown me with your heart (your love is king) by @perfectdagger

[Louis/Harry, 41k, General, tumblr post]

The universe must’ve had a field day when it decided to plan Harry’s life. There was no plausible explanation for anything that happened in his life anymore. Try as he may, he would never be able to control his life nor predict what would happen next. What were the odds that the one person he was sure he had fallen in love with but had completely let him slip out of his life, already resigned to the fact nothing could ever evolve between them due to Harry’s future with Eroda, happened to be the same person who had Harry’s future in his hand?

A The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Wedding au in which Harry is the Crown Prince of the small island of Eroda and Louis’ uncle is trying to take the throne from him, with a slight a/b/o twist and some more.

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms pt3

Part 2 right here! <-

Team RWBY continue their interesting chat about their respective worlds. After the emotional roller coaster that was Weiss’s, a bit of light hearted stories would be welcomed.

Yang:Okay, does anyone have some real feel good things to talk about for their world? Just run of the mill pleasant life?

Ruby:Guess I’m going last....

Yang:Oh no!

Weiss:We’ll circle back to you then. Blake, I guess you’re up.

Blake:Wouldn’t you want calmer stuff at the end?

Yang:Blake, I would very much like to go at least ten minutes without wanting to cry.

Blake:Hmmmm I can guarantee you like...six I think.

Yang:I’ll take it! Blake Belladonna, tell me about a world where you and Jaune Arc are happily married. How did such stars align?

Blake:You make it sound crazy?

Weiss:Blake, there’s list of people I could see you with. Now I’m not saying Jaune couldn’t be one of them, but he’d have to fight his way up that list.

Blake:You...that’s kinda fair. It’s a bit hard to explain really. It happened back at Beacon initially, or our bonding did. Some days his team was busy and I didn’t tag along for the crazy antics you three wanted to do all the time, so we occasionally bumped into each by circumstances. He’d go to the library for a book, I’d do training and he was there, or sometimes he’d knock on our door and not realize I was the only one around.

Weiss:Was he trying to sing to me?

Blake:That plan did show up at our a few times, yes. One of those times I asked him out of nowhere to sing the song anyways because I just had to know if it was any good. Hehe, it wasn’t sonically pleasing at times, but you could tell it was genuine. Eventually though...he just sort of gave up on you. It was actually a little sad to see, even you thought so. It was strange. Jaune was definitely stumbling through his flirting and it came off as childish, yet the day he gave up, it was easy to see his heart was breaking a bit. Like all his insecurities ate even the faux confidence away.

Yang:Ma’am, it has barely been three minutes and I’m getting sad about thinking of Jaune being sad.

Weiss:Yeah don’t tell me I broke his heart!

Blake:Whoops, sorry. It’s important though. Jaune kinda kept to himself a little more after that. He still chatted pretty regularly but it was easy to tell he dived more in studies as a way to keep his head clear, which lead to us being on a project together. I was the only person in our friend group that wouldn’t actively try to make him open up about how he feeling. At first I thought it was a bit rude when he told me that, but I didn’t room to talk when it comes to socializing.

Yang:One more time for the people in the back.

Ruby:I’m the back.

Blake:*smirks* I was very against socializing about my feelings at Beacon.

Ruby:Yeah you were.

Weiss:I couldn’t even ask if you slept well without a lukewarm answer sometimes.

Blake:I’m better now. That’s all that matters. Romance and feeling love is a personal thing and talking about it is uncomfortable. I think we both recognized that in each other during our project. Trouble is, there’s only so many conversation starters and small talk subjects. Talking only about the project was dry and eventually all the facts a person could say about themselves ran out. Favorite food, color, hobbies, etc. We eventually had to dig a little deeper into those topics. To our surprise, we actually more in common than we thought when it came to how we felt about certain pieces of literature and music.

Ruby:Awwww, bonding over smut.

Blake:*red* It wasn’t all adult literature! Some were poems and stuff. Even when the project ended, we began being less formal around each other and hanging out. We went to the bookstores we mentioned and he even got us tickets to bands I liked. It...it was nice. I never really got to have just a normal teenage experience before without it being political. He always felt bad about being average compared to everyone but average was so foreign to me that I welcomed it. I liked having a normal time out. It was a thing we all took for granted. Especially when Beacon fell.

Yang:Yeah, that probably put a real bind on your relationship.

Blake:Actually....we technically never officially started to date.

Ruby:What? You courted each other all of Beacon.

Weiss:Ruby, who the heck says courted? I’m a Schnee and even I have never used the word courted.

Ruby:Hush, I read a lot of bed time stories to a five year old.

Blake:We were a bit shaky on labels. Me for obvious reasons. As for Jaune, it’s really true about what they say about guys when they get heart broken.

Yang: “Never again.”

Blake:Hehehe, it’s funny to look back at it but he’ll tell you it’s a bit cringy. He was so on gaurd. I could tell all the time when he was mentally telling himself to not be excited whenever we hung out or I complimented him.

Ruby:Hey it takes guts to shift feelings to a teammate of your first crush. That could blow up in your face.

Blake:Yeah...about that. *looks at Yang* you...were another reason why nothing was official. You uhhh, we actually had some jumbled up emotions.

Weiss:*sarcastic gasp* You and Yang, liking each other? Who could’ve seen that coming?

Yang:Was it mutual or...

Blake:Very mutual. Also...intimate at times.

Yang:*red* Oh....yeah. Yeah that tracks.

Blake:That jumbled mess was only more confusing after you got hurt trying to rescue me from Adam. Meeting up with-

Ruby:Question, so was Sun just not on your radar?

Blake:Sun? We’re just friends. He’s cute and I’m glad he was there for me when I needed help but things between us were always pretty calm. I think he noticed how confused I was with other people in my life and chose to not add to it.

Ruby:Bless him. Please continue.

Blake:Learning about Salem and reconnecting with you all was a lot. I’d really been out of the loop and my Yang and I were on....shaky ground.

Yang:That’s what happens when you leave someone who’s been left their entire life.

Blake:Sigh...yeah. It was a trying time, but not with JNPR. It’s funny, Oscar and I also hit it off quite well from the jump. I think we were both glad to have each other learn on the craziness at once. Even with readjusting, Jaune and I fell back into a groove naturally. Instead of doing average things we day dreamed of the things we did. Once again we become this little slice of simple life in this crazy adventure. Still didn’t date.

Weiss:What is this, a slow burn!?

Yang:Weiss, you literally didn’t date your Jaune until Atlas.

Weiss:There’s a difference. I didn’t make any heart eyes at him until around Atlas. I say I may have been a little quick. These two were “courting” for over a year at this point.

Ruby:Stop making fun of me!

Blake:Well anyways, I wouldn’t say much was too eventful in terms of romance with world destroying things happening. Salem, she was way too much to deal with. Every move age did was calculated and unrelenting. Keeping our head above water wasn’t easy. In fact, it was boarder line impossible. Yang and I barely beat Adam after all.

Yang:How’d you two feel about that?

Blake:Relieved. Huge weight off my mind, and yet...a piece of me still wishes things never got so dire. At least now I know that in another world, things aren’t.

Ruby:Sounds like your world was put through their paces? You survived though.

Blake:Not conventionally. I gotta say, hearing the ages and how you beat Salem so far makes me feel more than a little embarrassed. To be frank, we didn’t have this grand battle that involved the entire world making a final stand. We had Atlas, and then we had Haven. With their might and a plan to gain more time, we managed to seal Salem in a vault.

Yang:*chokes on water* Y- cough what!?

Ruby:You put her in a vault!?

Weiss:Thah sounds harder than a last stand honestly.

Blake:No matter what way we looked at things, we just weren’t ready for her, so we locked her away until we were. Two years on constant defense from her followers and grimm until Ruby had trained enough to use her silver eyes and we were all strong enough.

Ruby:Two years!? How old was I then?

Blake:Twenty I believe.

Weiss:Hey, you beat mine by a year.

Yang:Not mine, I think we either tied or just narrowly beat yours by like a year. Honestly it hard to keep track of birthdays and stuff.

Ruby:Wow. No offense to myself, but that’s a little disappointing. I guess being the same person really doesn’t mean we were all at the same level.

Blake:Hey, my Ruby put everything she had into saving the world. There wasn’t a second she wasn’t trying her best to defend it!

Ruby:My point exactly. If that was her at her absolute best then by all accounts, she doesn’t hold a candle to me; at least back then anyways. But I have no reason to believe she would be at my level now.

Yang:Okay little miss prideful, care to tell us when you saved the-

Ruby:Seventeen.

The reaper took a long swig of coffee while the others processed that information. It took a her a couple of seconds to realize she may be acting just a tad bit arrogant.

Ruby:Uhh, sorry. I think I was tooting my own horn a bit there.

Weiss:Seventeen....why so soon?

Yang:Why? Don’t you mean how?

Blake:That’s....almost unbelievable.

Ruby:Really? I don’t think so. I’ll dive into it when it’s my turn but for now all I really gotta say is people needed help, and I was going to answer those cries. I bet your Ruby had a similar urgency in her, but for some reason or another just had different limitations. I got hurt a lot as a kid. Maybe an injury did more damage in one universe than another? Who can say?

Blake:I...wouldn’t know. Odd, I know if my Ruby heard this, then she’d probably be more than a little upset. Saving lives is still what she’s all about. I know when she put everything she had into fighting Salem when the day came. All that training paid off. Her skills were polished and her silver eyes eradicated the grimm essence in Salem.

Ruby:Wait, she’s not dead?

Blake:No. Salem roams Remnant with Oz keeping an eye on her until one day she can finally grasp the lesson the gods wanted her to have.

Yang:That uhhh sounds risky.

Weiss:Yet oddly okay?

Blake:Funny, my Weiss said that too. Those two get checked on in secret. Can’t be too careful. With Salem beaten though, Remnant entered a state of...let’s call it average chaos. All in all, it’s way more peaceful but you know, people will be people. Downside about a secret war is you don’t get the unity of the masses. Atlas and Haven working together was still a great step in the right direction though.

Yang:Woah, I’m a little jealous. My world felt like a race against the clock. The pressure either broke you or made you harder than diamond, with most people crushing under it.

Weiss:Yeah. The tension and meet of extremes I had on the frontlines was beyond imagination. The unity was great, but to feel it on the battlefield against the odds was feeling with way too much adrenaline and stress. Can’t say I enjoyed it. I simply lived through it.

Blake:Well it isn’t like I had a walk in the park. But I guess in comparison, my experience was a tad more mellow. Still, people were lost and hurt. Oscar isn’t himself anymore, don’t have Penny, former classmates and a few enemies turned allies fell in battle. Family.... it took a bunch to get the plan of containing, then it took a lot more to do it. In a way though, the two years of training is time I can’t regret. It tested bonds, strengthening and reestablishing others.

Ruby:I take it since love couldn’t bloom on the battlefield, it bloomed in the training yards?

Blake:*red* You can say that. That’s when Jaune and I got serious. *frowning* But.....

Yang:We fell apart?

Blake:Yeah. I didn’t learn my lesson well enough the first time about the potential problems of dating a partner. Only difference this time was I felt like I was the one being cruel. We had gotten into arguments and apologized more than once. Your fear of being left and my own insecurities just kept butting heads. I’d cry, you’d cry, our friends would be concerned. Then the day came where you put it all on the line. You confessed genuinely how much you loved me and how you felt a bit jealous when it came to Jaune. I had never seen you look so vulnerable; letting your gaurd completely down. And though a piece of me loved you and wanted you in my life for ever....this sense of genuine comfort Jaune gave was something I want-needed for so long. So I did the one thing I didn’t want to do. I broke your heart. I hurt you again.

Yang:Sigh....*leans back in chair* Okay, let’s see how well I know myself. My eyes went red automatically, followed by tears. I lashed out at you angrily out of pain and embarrassment until I was probably blue in the face. But to take make things worse, somebody probably overheard. No matter who it was, I yelled at them too for trying to calm me down and then I eventually run off leaving everyone unhappy. A good old meltdown. Sound about right?

Blake:To the letter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so distraught.

Yang:Of course not, I’ve never been in love before meeting you. I....did a similar thing with my Blake over the stupid Adam shit. *covers face* of all the things to be similar, it had to be my temper. Please tell me our team didn’t suffer too harshly?

Blake:The good thing about two years of training was it didn’t have to be together all the time. Team RWBY didn’t fall apart, but it didn’t feel comfortable either. Outside of missions, the four of us didn’t hang out as much. It was three at the most. Nobody pinned blame on me or Yang for it but it was obvious.

Ruby:I mean how can you blame someone for feeling sad or not in love with someone? Pointing fingers doesn’t do anything. However, I bet missions were rough.

Blake:Bumblebee was shelved. We did any other team up we could. When push came to shove, Yang and I did put feelings aside. Neither of us wanted our feelings to get anyone killed. That’s probably what kept us connected for awhile, especially with Salem. I don’t think we questioned each other when it came to watching one another’s back. Slowly, our relationship got a bit better. Until....we stopped speaking to each other altogether about a couple years later.

Yang:Wait, why!?

Blake:I got pregnant.

The three listeners’ faces scrunched up and they let in a sharp breath like they just got cut. No one had considered that bombshell.

Blake:Marriage was rough enough. Having Jaune’s kid and starting a family just...cut deep I guess. You didn’t make a scene or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. One day you told me “I just can’t do this” and exited my life. I wanted to keep you close to me, but you wanted to be closer. That was a thing I couldn’t do. Hehe, I can’t tell you how weird it is talking to you like this again.

Yang:So that’s it!? We just don’t see each other at all!?

Blake:Certain events and celebrations have us in the same room, but that’s all. Ruby is the only thing that regularly links us, but she’s busy living life too.

Ruby:Is it a good life?

Blake:The best. You’re the huntress you always wanted to be and a hero to many.

Ruby:*smiles* Really? That’s good. May she ride that high for as long as she can. Though I bet she wished she had a special someone to share that with.

Blake:Huh? Oh, you married Weiss.

Weiss:*red* What!?

Ruby:Aye, nice.

Weiss:Weren’t you upset about thinking of other people with Jaune besides you!?

Ruby:Yeah, but I won’t deny if I am going to be with someone that isn’t him, I’m very happy it’s the other special person in my life. I mean come on, the only reason we don’t get weird in your universe is because I married your brother and you already invited my sister.

Weiss:I mean...it’s mainly the brother portion. The second part...

Ruby:Weiss, that’s weird.

Yang:Eh...

Ruby:IT’S WEIRD! YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE!

Yang:*sips coffee* Eh.

Blake:Anyways, Weiss, you’re running your company. The Schnee Dust Company was scrubbed top to bottom to remove as much corruption as possible. No department was overlooked. In times of money, there’s a notable decrease in how much the company used to make.

Weiss:Gee, I wonder if that’s because the other me is doing oh let me guess, paying all their workers and not cutting corners in safety?

Blake:The SDC people approval has gone up considerably, just so you know that too. Turns out people like it when the company they buy from have good morals.

Weiss:Am I happy though? I make time for my social life and hu- I mean wife?

Blake:Yea, you’re happy. In a way I think we’re all happy, but....

Yang:We’d be happier if we were all happy together? Yeah, that’s how it works. You’re only as happy as the most miserable person in a family or group; if you all care about each other that is. Ugh, I wanna punch the other me. I get how she feels but it’s fucking immature to just ignore years of teamwork and family. At the end of the day, team RWBY is a family! Can’t believe I’d runaway from it instead of figuring out...I don’t know! Something!

Blake:*small smile* Well if you feel that way then there’s no reason to believe she doesn’t. My Yang just struggles with it more I guess, but I hope she can come around one day. Not really for my sake, but for her own peace of mind. As well as Lucas’s.

Ruby:Lucas? Your son I take it?

Blake:Mmhmm. My strong and lazy young man. He got his father’s hair but my eyes and ears. I can’t think of a person who warms my heart quite like him. He acts uninterested in a lot of things, but his heart is so big.

Weiss:Ah, so he’s just you?

Blake:More or less hehe. Though I’d say I was passionate about things all my life. Lucas will sleep all day if he could and doesn’t like going out without a reason.

Weiss:Still sounds like you if I’m being honest. Teenager?

Blake:Seventeen, almost eighteen.

Yang:You said he’s need peace of mind too? I’m not...hostile towards him am I?

Blake:No, not by a long shot. On the occasions you two have meant, you were polite. It’s just he knows why you don’t visit or talk to me. That’s rough, knowing your parent’s closest friend stopped being apart of their life because you were born. I think sometimes he believes it’s actually his fault.

Yang:I really, really want to meet this other me and have a few words. She needs to know she isn’t trying hard enough. I’m proof.

Ruby:Yeah, but you’re only well off because the person that helped you get over Blake, was Jaune. Yeah she still can find love, but who that person will be would be uncharted territory for everyone.

Blake:Also I’m not entirely sure exactly if my Yang is even bi like you.

Yang:Sigh....

Weiss:Love.

Blake:Huh?

Weiss:As long as a person shows your Yang genuine love and a place in their heart where she’ll remain forever, Yang would fall for them. They just have to make it a point to make her feel like they’ll stay. Yangs are softies like that.

Yang:Wow, you an expert on me and all the versions of me now?

Weiss:No, you’re just a bleeding heart that’s super emotional. Let me guess, you fell for Jaune the moment you realized just how relaxed and vulnerable you could allow yourself to be around him.

Yang:*red*.......he holds me when I’m overwhelmed.

RWB:Awwww

Yang:Shut up! Blake, take the heat off me.

Blake:Not too much more. Lucas is a smart kid who generally stays out of trouble. Unfortunately, trouble finds him. Mainly because of his semblance.

Ruby:Don’t tell me...

Blake:No no, it’s not bad luck like your uncle, but Lucas can’t always control it so their similar in that regard. Premonitions, that’s his semblance.

Weiss:Like...the future? You child can see the future?!

Blake:Yeah. *sips drink* it’s terrible.

Ruby:What? That sounds so handy! Man, if I could someone fighting me before it happened, I’d be a monster on the battlefield.

Blake:Lucas isn’t a fighter. Well, he’s not aspiring to fight. He can fight, pretty dang well in fact.; but randomly seeing the future is not a gift. Imagine picking up a book and you suddenly know the ending, or watching a movie and you start seeing the middle of it right after you press play?

Yang:Ahhh, that’s why he’s lazy and unmotivated. His semblance is massive spoiler alert. Half the fun of new things is not knowing what will happen.

Ruby:Oof, you have a point. I’d be paranoid to no end.

Blake:To a point, he was. Ever since he was ten. Disasters happen at the drop of a hat. Lucas isn’t the kind of person to watch bad things unfold, so whenever it was possible or even if it was risky, he’d do whatever he could to prevent said disaster. But.....there’s only so much anyone person can do. There’s only so much information he sees. The constant strain and guilt that came from failing ate him up. The. There’s the incidents he’s seen that didn’t show him how it began or how it will end. *rubbing her hands* It’s bad...

Weiss:Hey, I...I’ve noticed your hands and frankly even your face are a bit....slim. Your skin isn’t as colorful as I’m used to either. Almost like it’s regaining color.

Blake:Hehehe.......I guess you were bound to notice of all people.

Weiss:Of course. I may not run a a company in my world but I keep tabs on my brother and have had my fair share of visits to a doctor. Why wouldn’t I notice.

Yang:So can we talk as if there are people who have no clue what’s going on?

Weiss:Blake has had one of two things happen to her. She’s either worked way too hard to the point she’s not taking care of her health, or she’s fallen very ill and her body is still recovering.

Blake:Yeah, it’s more of the second one, but probably because of the first one as well. Forwarding equality, I was overzealous with it. One day Lucas just started shaking and crying when he was twelve and I couldn’t understand why. Turns out he kept seeing me bedridden and unconscious without a reason. Day in and day out he simply cried and tried his best to get another premonition to learn more, but couldn’t. A week later I started feeling a little dizzy, and then blacked out after vomiting. At first I thought maybe I had the flu or something. Nope, a tumor.

Weiss:What?

Ruby:Blake!?

Yang:Oh shit, are you-

Blake:Perfectly fine! *smiles* I’m fine. Liver cancer, but it was caught early. No more tumor what so ever, but the meds and the entire process was really draining. Got sicker a couple of times. Not once did I feel like I was dying necessarily, more like...slipping? I felt myself getting drained. The whole time Lucas was so scared; blaming himself for not preventing this or knowing how to fix it. Though simply knowing he saw me like was a warning most people wish they got. I know I said seeing the future is terrible, but the scariest part through all of this was not knowing how it ended. Choosing medicine, doctors, surgery possibilities, it made me crack under pressure a little. I think he noticed that. I wasn’t sure if I picking an option that lead me dying or getting better. The stress alone may have killed me. Ever since then Lucas hasn’t been so outgoing.

Ruby:....

Weiss:....

Yang....It was already said, but there was no way this wasn’t going to get sad was there?

Blake:Take it from me, there’s joy in pain. So many people came to visit me when I was recovering. Even Yang dropped by for a bit. After I got out, I don’t think Lucas ever hugged me so hard. Jaune tried to stay calm through the whole ordeal but it was rough for him too. He was all but spent emotionally when I came home.

Weiss:I’m surprised Lucas didn’t become an older brother.

Blake:The last thing a recovering patient needs is a pregnancy, but as far as missing me goes...

Ruby:You can stop right there with that tangent.

Yang:We’ll talk about that in private. I wouldn’t mind that story.

Blake:*playfully rolls eyes* These days I try not to over do things. I’ve only officially been deemed completely cured for about a year. I can feel that I’m still not entirely up to strength. It’s fine though. It gives me an excuse for Lucas to dote on me a little. He’s a mama’s boy at heart. My biggest worries these days is peeling him out of this shell his semblance had put him in. At the very least I want him to smile like he used to and find away to live in moment when possible. His entire life is ahead of him. Hopefully he doesn’t see all of it.

Ruby:I guess too much of anything really is bad. Knowledge included. I hope things work out.

Yang:Me too. A happy life is something you definitely earned.

Blake:Thanks. That seriously means a lot, which is why I made sure to not end this on a sour note.

The happy faunus pulled out her scroll to scroll through pictures and her friends eyes lit up. The first one was a beach photo. This Jaune was different from what they were used to. He let his hair grow a little bit longer and the back went down his neck, but it was definitely still him. This jaune was pretty toned and went for a lean look than bulky like Weiss’s, but a tad slimmer. On his shoulders was an adorable toddler with wide amber eyes and big blonde cat ears. Both men were enjoying the sunset on the waves.

The next photo was more recent with Blake right in the middle of hopping into Lucas’s arms. Weiss noticed the girl still had on the hospital bracelet. She must’ve just gotten cleared. Lucas had grown like a weed. He was now roughly Jaune’s height. His hair was messy and looked like Jaune’s in his younger years. Also like his father, Lucas was jacked! His sleeveless purple shirt should off his biceps as they wrapped around Blake’s torso for a hug. His baggy purple shorts had black and gold trim through the seams and the shorts stopped right below his knees; but showed of his well defined calves. A smile of pure joy and what could’ve been a few tears were visible as he looked lovingly at his mother. It warmed all of the ladies hearts. Still, the girls also could tell under his eyes were a little dark. Lucas must’ve been very tired.

The final picture had to be the most recent. It was Blake and Lucas sparring. Both looked at each other with excitement and ease as their wooden blades clashed. Their clothes mirrored one another by being black and white kimonos. They even wore the traditional shoes and everything.

Weiss:Yeah, that’s your kid.

Blake:Damn right. Unfortunately that makes him a little too stubborn. But I guess that’s okay. Without a doubt, someone’s gonna break through that shell of his.

Yang:Oh? It sounds like you already know who?

Blake:Well....I have a hunch.

xxxxx

RING! RING! RING! Lucas’s scroll chirped, in the middle of the night. The boy let out a long, agitated groan of sleepiness as he rolled over in bed; reaching for his scroll on the nightstand to answer.

Lucas:Hello?

???:Did you know you are mathematically more likely to choke on a hotdog than get attacked by a shark?

Lucas:....Serenity, who gave you my number?

Serenity:Your parents, and it’s Serendipity!

Lucas:Too many syllables. Also a bit ironic given who you are. With the way you act though, my name for you is better.

Serenity:Ooooo so we’re moving on to pet names? How forward of you.

Lucas:Five seconds before I hang up. Three...two-

Serenity:You’re late! You promised to guide me around the beach at twelve. That’s now.

Lucas:.....P.M. Twelve P.M. Serenity. Why in the world would I mean midnight!?

Serenity:It’s romantic and personal. Nobody else is around. I thought you were trying to use that Belladonna magic on me by acting all cool and aloof in the moonlight.

Lucas:.....

Lucas:Please delete my number.

Serenity:Not on your life, my whiskered bodyguard!

Lucas:Don’t have whiskers-

Serenity:If you don’t wanna move that butt of yours to hang out with a pretty girl in a floppy hat and sundress with a bikini underneath, that’s your loss. I’m still going for a dip.

Lucas:Do not go in the water when nobody is around.

Serenity:Pfft, I’m a strong swimmer.

Lucas:Sharks.

Serenity:It’s more dangerous to eat a hotdog.

Lucas:Sharks feed at night.

Serenity:Are you trying to tell me the statistics aren’t as reliable just because it’s nighttime.

Lucas:That’s exactly what I’m saying.

Serenity:Then you better move your butt just in case. Either you get a snack or the sharks do. Either way, I get attention.

Lucas:Difference is one wants to eat you.

Serenity:My goodness Lucas, oh brazen of you.

Lucas:......

Lucas:Tell the sharks I said hi.

Serenity:Okay! Byyyyyyeeeee! *hangs up*

Lucas:(She’ll be fine.)

..........

Lucas:*putting on shoes* This is bullshit. Who thinks midnight!? *walking down stairs* Can’t have a peaceful day or night....

Jaune:*watching tv* Hey Lucas, going some-

Lucas:I’m giving out your phone number to a homeless man the first chance I get! *walks out door*

Jaune:.....(Whatever gets you outside more.)

It took about fifteen minutes of aggressive walking for Lucas to wrap around to the back of his house towards their section of the beach. Where Serenity walked around humming and collecting seashells without a care in the world.

Lucas:The next shell you grab will have a crab in it.

Serenity:Huh? Oh hey you’re finally-ahhhh! Ow ow ow ow ow ow!

Lucas:Should’ve listened.

Serenity:Have a better warning!!!! It won’t let go!

Lucas:Pull it off.

Serenity:That’s hurt!!! Lucas, help!

Lucas:Fine, if you delete my number.

Serenity:*sniffling* Stop being mean!!! This really hurts, it’s breaking the skin. Isn’t a young and pretty girl’s tears payment enough!? I thought you were getting paid to-

Lucas:Oh my goodness! Okay, just shush. I’m too sleepy for this.

Serenity:You’re mean when you’re sleepy. At least your waking up voice sounds handsome though.

Lucas:Please....stop. Stop everything. *removing crab* Happy?

Serenity:No, you’re not happy. Also my finger is bleeding.

Lucas:Yep, looks like you can’t go swimming now for real.

Serenity:Eh, I lied anyways. I’m not getting in that water. There are sharks in that watery grave.

Lucas:So. Why. Did. You. Wake. Me. Up?

Serenity:....*red* I...don’t really, have friends here. Besides you. Umm *points to pail and shovels* sandcastles?

Lucas:*inhales*......I’ll get the water.

Serenity:*smiles* Yes! I’ll delete your number later.

Lucas:*red* You....can keep it of you really want.

Serenity:....Kek, okay Mr. Tsundere

Lucas:You can remove the next crab alone.

Serenity:Don’t joke like that! That was a joke, right?

Lucas:Welp that pail isn’t gonna fill itself. *leaves*

Serenity:What!? Lucas!!! You were joking right!? Right!? *looking around the sand* you’re a lousy bodyguard!

Lucas:Good, fire me.

Serenity:I...you....ugh!

Lucas:Cheer up, I’m happy now after all. *smiles*

Serenity:*pouting* This is why I’m a dog person.

[another-cancer]

Chapter Eight: What's a period?

First Previous Next

Masterlist ao3 

Summary:

Trouble is brewing back at the order as Marinette learns some awkward information in Gotham.

Notes:

Back from hiatus!

Welcome back friends, with a revised outline I can finally confirm the story to be sixteen chapters! This story has grown a lot from the original Maribat march outline that started it all. Thanks for joining me as we continue this journey.

Updates will be back to the regularly scheduled Tuesdays.

This can also be found on AO3 @another_cancer and Wattpad @another_cAnCeR

Enjoy!

///

Stealing was almost second nature to Marinette. After leaving the order, burglary became her way to survive. With her skill set, it was easy. After all, all, once you kill people to survive there isn’t much that is considered challenging within the realm of crime. It was an outlet for the violent side she developed with the order. One that didn’t cause any real harm. She stole from the rich. They weren’t missing any of it anyway, and half the time that didn’t even notice.

She typically pawned the items off to the strangest people and never to the same one. While she may be dead as Ladybug, Marinette has contacts all over the world. Under false names of course. She was extremely paranoid. The girl could rival Batman in paranoia.

On one particular heist, she had a run-in with another thief. However, she wasn’t quite concerned about her surprise partner when Catwoman was standing in front of her.

“Hello,” Catwoman said with curiosity.

Marinette just stared.

“Quiet, huh, well either way that bag looks pretty full, hope you won’t mind if I take from this place too.”

Catwomen took jewels, that was a lot more noticeable than the stuff Marinette took. It would leave a trail. A trail Marinette didn’t need to be connected to her.

“Please don’t take anything noticeable,” Marinette mumbled.

“What was that kitten?”

She repeated slightly louder, “Please don’t take anything noticeable.”

“But what would be the point of stealing unless to piss off the rich people who live here?” Catwoman asked with a grin, “Unless you’re taking for your own personal gain.”

Mental note: Catwoman didn’t like people stealing for their own gain. Marinette wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I have kids relying on me, I can’t let this shit trace back to me,” Marinette carefully explained.

Catwoman examined Marinette. Truly taking the girl in by slowly scanning her body. She noticed the slightly raggy clothing she wore. Marinette didn’t wear a mask which made her look like a bit of an amateur to Catwoman. However, when the woman arrived at the house earlier no alarms had been triggered suggesting the girl did a good job sneaking into the house. It was risky, the girl clearly wasn’t new to this.

“You live on the streets,” Catwoman said.

It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement.

She continued, “You’ve stolen before. And you aren’t native to Gotham.”

All statements.

“Correct,” Marinette simply offered in return.

“Fine, let's get out of here and you can explain more to me,” Catwoman said as she headed the way she entered.

Marinette followed. She wasn’t quite sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do. On the other hand, Marinette was confused by the fact the notorious thief ended up taking nothing, had the woman really been so easily convinced by her.

///

B a c k i n T i b e t

“Masters,” a teenager greeted as they were welcomed into the elders' chamber.

“[REDACTED] you have been called upon by the gods, we hope you will accept the honor and visit them. They will give you a mission that you shall complete.”

Once again the unspoken words being: if you don’t do it you die.

“Thank you, I will visit them immediately.”

No one was ever called upon by the gods. At least no one is normal. In [REDACTED]’s lifetime, they could only remember one person who ever got the chance to meet them. Ladybug. And now Ladybug is dead. [REDACTED] assumed they were becoming the new golden child. Oh, how wrong could they ever be.

///

B a c k to G o t h a m

They were in a warehouse, mostly abandoned. It would be a good place to kill someone. But Catwoman wasn’t going to kill her and Marinette gave up that lifestyle a long time ago. In conclusion, no one was going to be killed, but Marinette’s paranoid brain kept reminding her this would be a good place to kill someone.

“How long have you been stealing?” Catwoman asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Against her better judgment, Marinette replied, “When I was nine.”

“You’re a runaway.”

“Technically an orphan, but runaway also works.”

“You're not even from around here, god the whole system is broken if kids not from Gotham are running away to Gotham,” Catwoman muttered.

“I’m not a kid,” Marinette corrected.

“You look ten, you’re a kid, who is looking after other kids, god that makes it so much worse.”

“I’m sixteen,” Marinette lied, she wasn’t going to give the woman her actual age.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, you’ve barely hit puberty, kid have you even gotten your period yet?”

“My what?”

Shit. She did not mean to ask that out loud.

Catwoman didn’t expect that. Fuck how was she supposed to explain puberty and periods to this girl?

She decided bluntly, “It’s when you bleed from your vagina.”

“That’s natural? I thought-”

It had never been explained to Marinette in the past. She thought something was wrong with her, but then it stopped. It had only happened twice so far, and the bleeding was always fairly light.

“Kid I think it’s time you had a talk.”

Catwoman gave a basic rundown on periods and puberty, she even pulled out some pads and tampons she had stored in the warehouse. By the end, Marinette had a bag filled with period products and a new talk to give some of the street kids.

“I never caught your name,” Catwoman said.

What the hell she had already told the vigilantes mine as well tell the rogues too. It’s not like they would be able to find anything on someone who doesn’t exist.

“Marinette.”

“You’re a good thief Marinette,” she complimented.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been considering taking in an apprentice lately, you know, try and imitate the bat a bit. And you're the girl who keeps picking fights with Scarecrow right?”

How the hell did she know that. Never mind, it didn’t matter, Marinette had to turn down the offer anyway. She worked alone and wasn’t interested in being a sidekick.

“I won’t be your sidekick, I have things of my own to worry about.”

“Aw too bad, I was really hoping you’d say yes, show that Bat he’s not the only one who can have a bunch of kids following him around, but I get it you gotta keep yourself safe and those kids you said you look after. Good luck!”

And with that, she was sent on her way. What a strange day.

///

B a c k i n T i b e t a g a i n

“Tikki, are you sure about this?” Trixx asked.

“I am sure,” they replied, hushing the other god, “Lila Rossi please approach.”

The teenager kneeled.

“Lila Rossi, you have been called in front of the god due to your mastering of illusions. My chosen Ladybug has managed to gain balance in her soul. Ladybug now holds destruction that rivals creation. You will retrieve her from Gotham City and return with her alive. Do what it takes as long as she lives.”

Lila was stunned.

“But Ladybug is dead.”

“You humans are fools, she never died, I allowed her to roam without informing anyone to see if any of you incompetent fools would notice. However, she has gotten too powerful recently,” Tikki explained.

“I understand,” she stuttered.

Trixx moved to the front of the room, “From this day on you will leave behind the name Lila, and you will become Volpina.”

There was a bright light and then darkness. Volpina was outside the chamber.

“Lila,” an elder started.

“Volpina.”

There was an understanding, the elders bowed down to her, and Volpina’s mission started.

///

“I really don’t like this sugar cube.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my chosen, Plagg,” Tikki sniped back.

///

Notes:

Next week: Marinette has a couple of stalkers and a backstory that goes further back than she remembers.

[kitkat1003]

Who Are You Really?

Chapter 4: Rush Hour

Summary:

Huh.  Guess Spirit doesn’t have too much time to introspect.  That’s okay, though.  Introspection doesn’t lead to anything good, and Spirit much prefers action over thought when they start to think too far back.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Ft. Almond, who belongs to @strange-lace

Spirit Masterpost

Spirit is nervous.

Macaque’s token is buzzing.  

They don’t know if they should be.  They’re nervous for clients, of course, and they’re polite to everyone they meet, but Macaque is...different.  They’ve known him longer, longer than most of their clients.

They’ve done so many favors for him, he can’t hurt them.  They know that.  They know they know that.

They still tremble a little as they reach into their pocket.

Are the favors not enough?  They have to be.  Spirit has been operating on them for as long as they can remember, likely longer than that.  Favors are dependable, favors make sense, they can tally them down and be assured, and know, and can quantify, and

And yet.

Macaque is like Red, but different.  Close, but not a friend.  Something else.  And Spirit shouldn’t be afraid.  They’ve done him favors, they’re safe.  They’ve done everything he asked, even when it wasn’t good.  Because they aren’t stupid, and they know what is and isn’t right.  They haven’t been right for a long time maybe ever, but they just want to be safe, and this is how they will be.

They know that.  This is how it has to be.

Because if it isn’t, then Spirit would have, and wouldn’t have, and

Spirit doesn’t like to think on the would haves, because they turn into should haves.  They should have this, they should have that—none of that is helpful.  Wanting more from the past doesn’t change the present.

Besides, they should have what they deserve, and

Spirit grabs the token and goes to where they are needed.

They’re not quite sure where they are, at first, but the cliffside they appear at is just a few miles from the town.  They can see the weather tower from where they are.  It’s the tallest building in the city, after all.

Macaque’s seeming lack of appearance would be worrying, but Spirit feels the itch that always happens in their eye, the big one, when Macaque is hiding in the dark.

“You test that a lot,” they say.  “I haven’t missed you yet.”

They turn around just as Macaque steps out of their shadow.  It’s kind of interesting, watching the flat object liquify into what seems like smoke, pulling from the rockface upon which Spirit’s shadow is cast.  From shadow to smoke to flesh and bone, the transition seamless.

“I’m your teacher, aren’t I?  Who else is going to test you?” He stretches his arms leaning back against the cliff face with his arms crossed over his chest.

Spirit supposes that makes sense.  Macaque is their teacher, in the sense that he’s really the only person who has bothered to teach Spirit anything, save for their mom.  But Mom isn’t a teacher, she’s Mom, so Macaque is their teacher.  It makes sense when you think about it.

“So,”  Macaque starts, a claw lazily tugging at Spirit’s sleeve to get their attention.  “Got any new information?  As a favor,” he adds the last part like he always does, and Spirit perks up like they always do.

A new favor is always so nice.

“Oh, well, the Demon Bull King was released,” they start.  “Red Son, Princess Iron Fan, and the Demon Bull King have congregated on the outskirts of Wán Qiãn Chéng, where Monkey King’s successor lives, and they battle him from time to time—”

“Monkey King has a successor?” Macaque all but shouts, loud enough that Spirit takes a step back.

They fidget, and hide their hands behind their back.

“Um, yes?” Spirit shrugs at Macaque’s incredulous look.  “He stopped the Demon Bull King when DBK first emerged, and has been protecting the city and, uh, the world since then.  He’s a little younger than me, age wise I think.

“I haven’t gotten a good look at him, but he’s friends with the youngest member of the Long family, so he might be aristocratic?  I don’t know,” They finish lamely, smiling a little.

Macaque grins.  It’s not a nice one, one of his scheming grins he gets when he wants something and is figuring out how to get it.  Spirit finds it familiar, considering Macaque always wants something from them, in one way or another.  Why he feels the need to scheme is beyond them, because Spirit does most anything if asked politely.

Then again, they were a bit obstinate when Macaque and them first met.  They made Macaque work for their favor, which is stupid.  They should’ve listened better back then, and Macaque would maybe like them more now.  

Most people don’t like them, though, so they suppose they should be used to it.

“Well then,” Macaque starts, rubbing his chin with his hand in thought.  “That is something.  Thanks kid.  I’ll use that.”

Spirit brightens at the praise.

“You’re welcome!” they beam.  “Um, anything else, sir?”

Macaque waves a hand.  “Nah.”

He turns towards the horizon, and then, for some reason, looks back almost...shy?  Spirit doesn’t really understand Macaque’s moods.  He can flip flop in terms of good or bad feelings very quickly, with no rhyme nor reason Spirit can discern in regards to why.

They jump, scrambling to catch an item as Macaque just...tosses them a bag of what they soon realize is coins.  A fair bit, if the weight is any indication.  The bag is purple, with a silver drawstring for the pouch.  They love purple and silver!  Macaque doesn’t do silver, save for the token he made for them; his cuffs are gold.

They glance up at him in confusion.

“Got tired of carrying that,” Macaque says, looking away from them.  “Figured you wouldn’t mind.  Buy yourself something with it, or whatever.”

He glances back at them again.  Spirit waves.

Macaque jumps off the cliff, and disappears.

Spirit heads back to town, after that, flitting through different shopping centers.  They don’t really have a lot of money regularly, but they also don’t spend a lot of money regularly, so they’re typically okay with spending money when they want or need to.  

The last thing that was a big purchase was getting their outfit fixed up for the third time.  They always wait until the fabric is so worn that they can’t stitch it together to do so, because they try to be frugal, but keeping their one and only outfit in fair condition is a necessity.

Macaque had mentioned the practice, saying that it was how he kept his outfit pristine after centuries.  Demons who could weave silk would restring the fabric line by line until it was simply the same but brand new, keeping the old string to be salvaged for whatever they could find within.  It wasn’t terribly expensive, but was still a purchase to be saved up for.

They don’t shift into human form, staying in the alleyways where they’re hardly seen and glancing out to the streets to see if there’s anything neat to find instead of walking in the open as a human.  Their eyes catch on a shop in the food district, a colorful storefront.

Bitter Sweets.

They can see the colorful creations set up in the window display.  Sweets, pastries.

Pastries.

They remember pastries.  It was such a rare thing to have.  Father was always in the Inn, always toward the front side they’d have to cross to get to the indoor kitchen.  They never wanted to cross Father.  They knew what would happen.

But it became a game.  Find whenever Father is gone, fixing up a room for a new customer, off to the town to find tourists, and sneak into the kitchen.  Throw together the ingredients, skipping across the floor to find each and every item needed for the recipe.  Mixing the ingredients into dough, kneading it and playing with it as Mother laughed, shaping it into its proper form, placing it in the stone oven and watching, waiting.

And then the dough would rise, and Spirit would lean in so close to watch that Mom would gently tug them back with a soft smile.  She would pull out the finished product, and Spirit would tug on her sleeve and say ‘Now?’, and she would smile and shake her head and make them wait until it cooled.

They would pull apart the warm (but not hot!) balls of sticky bread just to see the inside and finally stuff a piece into their mouth, giggling.  They’d take the lot and scamper off into safety with Mom, off into the back area where the infirmary was, where father couldn’t reach, the taste of sweetness on their tongue.

Spirit remembers pastries.

Entranced, they cross the street and enter the shop.

The inside is just as warm and bright as the outside, purples and pinks in pastel hues the general color scheme, with cool gray walls and white highlights to accent the colors. There’s a second display case by the front counter, a small table with two chairs off to the side, and a sweet smell of something baking that hits you both with nostalgia and hunger.

Spirit thinks about the last time they’ve eaten, and can’t quite remember.  Then again, that’s not too terrible, considering they don’t need to eat regularly.

“Hello, dear!” A voice calls from further inside.  

Spirit jumps at the sound, and stares as brown hair, purple skin, and red eyes greet them.  The demon is of the spider variety, a cap on her head and smudges of flour and icing on her apron and face.  

She has 3 eyes, just like them.  But they’re not supposed to have three eyes, so it’s different.  She’s allowed to like hers.

She wipes off her hands on her apron and steps up to the counter, a pleasant smile greeting them with her hands on her hips, ready to be of service. “What can I get for you today?”

Spirit stares for a moment.

Right.  They have to order something.

“I-uh-um,” They stammer, because they didn't have time to prepare for this, and just a glance at the display case proves that they don’t know what any of the pastries are, nor do they know what the names mean.

And what did they even expect?  That this random sweets shop would have the exact type of pastry they remembered making centuries ago with someone who has been gone so long it shouldn’t matter?  Those things are lost to time, lost to a world they left behind when there was nothing left but blood and memories.  The soft moments are held only by the crumbs left in their head; there’s nothing tangible here.  They’re so stupid.  So, so, so stupid.

“I can always help you pick something out, if you need help,” the shopkeep says, gentle as Spirit’s anxiety mounts.

No, they can’t ask for help, they’re not allowed to.  They can’t do this, they should just run, run and never come back because this is stupid, what are they even looking for-

“Mooncakes!” they nearly shout, clapping a hand over their mouth a moment later, face bright red as they look away.

Their tail curls around their leg tight enough to hurt.  The shopkeeper's eyes glance down at their leg, for a moment.

Spirit tries again, softer, and fidgets with their belt. “Um, if you, uh, if you have any mooncakes. I would...like those.”

They bite the inside of their cheek hard, just short of drawing blood.

Mooncakes are the only pastry they know by name.  The only pastry that Father allowed and wanted them to make, special for New Years.  That was when they could be in the kitchen for hours, baking batch after batch for customers in the Inn and to hand out to those in the infirmary.

Father never let them make anything outside of what people wanted, what could bring them in money.  He was always so worried about costs, irate by a single lost yuan.  They were only to do what could be profitable.  Providing mooncakes to the tourists brought them business.  That’s all he cared about.

Mom’s hospital business always made far more than the Inn ever did.  It’s a point of pride they carry, that their Mother’s sunny disposition, kind nature, and astute healing practices made her far more of a matriarch than their Father liked.  No one likes staying at an Inn with an owner who has such a cruel gaze, where the owner’s wife and child are too afraid to show their faces.

No one likes staying at an Inn where the owner doesn’t even have a face, but, well, Spirit wouldn’t know anything about that.  Why would they?  They’ve had claws for a long, long time, claws that are strong enough to rip and tear, but that has nothing to do with this.  Nothing happened.  

It’s none of your business.  Stop asking.

The shopkeep smiles.

“Ah, Mooncakes,” she says.  “It’s been a few months since the New Years celebration, but people are still coming around looking for them.  I make a batch every other day just in case.  Lucky for you, today’s the fresh batch!”

She turns away to the back, and Spirit lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Call me Almond,” Almond calls from the back.

Spirit smiles.  “Thank you, Miss Almond.”

They only ask for a few, maybe three, but after they pay and leave they find nearly ten in the bag they’ve been given.  They idly chew on one, and almost stop in the street as the rush of nostalgia is accompanied by the taste of an expertly baked mooncake.

Watching the fireworks with Mom, bright lights up in the sky, sharing a mooncake with someone who cared, being carried home, half asleep under the stars and wanting to be nowhere else but where they were then, because the only place that was home was her arms because they were warm and safe and now they’re….

They blink back a couple tears and continue to chew.

They walk around aimlessly for a while, and eventually climb up a random building to sit on its ledge, letting the wind brush through their fur as they chew on their second mooncake.  

They wonder if Red would share one with them, if they asked.  They never stayed around long enough to share one with him on New Years.  They almost pull out their cell phone and text him, but…well.

Red hasn’t been close for a long time.  A rift was made because Spirit failed him, and they’ve always been a coward, too afraid to reach across the gap where something safe and special used to be.

They put their phone away.

A token buzzes in their pocket.

Huh.  Guess Spirit doesn’t have too much time to introspect.  That’s okay, though.  Introspection doesn’t lead to anything good, and Spirit much prefers action over thought when they start to think too far back.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Oh.  It’s Spider Queen!  

Spirit hasn’t heard from her in a long while, but they’re always happy to help, so they let the token whisk them to where they need to be.

They can hear the rush of cars overhead when they appear in what they assume is the sewers.  Eerie green pods of something litter the walls and ground, and there’s a fair smattering of purple grey spider webs that lighten the dark stones.

“Spirit!”

They turn, and see the Spider Queen just a foot or so away, bathed in green light from a crater shaped pool that has a green, bubbling liquid boiling within.  She’s grinning wide at them, and Spirit will say that, for a demon lost for half a millennium (that’s most demons, to be fair.  They all disappeared when the Demon Bull King did.  After all, if Monkey King could do that to someone, what would he do to them, the weaker ones?), she looks just as much of a threat as she did the last time they saw her.

They bow.

“Hello, Miss Queen,” they greet, and, after glancing back at the bag gripped tightly in their hand, they say “Would you like a mooncake?”

Spider Queen stares, for a moment, and then laughs. “Ha!  My, aren’t you sweet?” 

The sound of Spider Queen’s mechanical spider legs sends a shiver down Spirit’s spine, but Spirit has never minded spiders all that much.  As long as bugs stay away from them, in the sense that they don’t crawl onto them, Spirit leaves them be.  Spider Queen is more than just a bug, they suppose, and therein lies the danger.

They stand up, reach into their bag, and pull out a mooncake.

“This is just the thing I needed!” Spider Queen plucks the mooncake from Spirit’s hand.  “You would not believe the day I just had!”

She takes a bite and Mmms at the taste while Spirit fidgets silently.

“You know, I had my favorite meal taken from me, but this might be the next best thing.”

Spider Queen is a lot like Macaque, in the sense that they both talk a lot and Spirit never knows what to say in reply.  There’s a lot of bragging, grandiose statements and plotting, and then eventually an expectation of a response.  Spirit is never good at responses, though.

Then again, Spider Queen likes to hear herself talk a little more than she cares for a response.  She’s easier to handle, in that sense.  Macaque is harder.

“Would you mind giving me a buff, sweetheart?  As a favor.  I’ve got a bigger task for you, and it requires a bigger explanation.  Why waste the time, right?” Spider Queen holds out one of her mechanical spider legs.

“Right,” Spirit replies with a small smile.  “Of course.”

Lucky that they keep the polish for this sort of stuff on hand.  They pull it out with a rag and start to polish the metal, working out old scratches and making them disappear until the surface glitters like new.

“This town has become a hotbed of activity since ol’ Demon Bull King jumped out from the netherworld,” She starts, talking as Spirit works.  “I thought I’d sneak in and see what the fuss was about, maybe grab a meal or two.  It has been ages since the Spider Queen has ruled, and now that we’re allowed to play, I’m planning on rebuilding my empire!  The monkey boy came in and stole my meal, but he left behind a little piece of himself that I can use.”

She chuckles darkly at that notion.

“Monkey Boy?” Spirit inquires, moving onto the second leg.

“Ugh,” Spider Queen growls under her breath.  “Monkey King’s newest pet project.  He comes tearing in, stealing my perfectly good dinner, that little—” She cuts herself off.  

Spirit hands her another mooncake. She makes a motion with it in the air, huffing indignantly before continuing.  “His hair is enough to give my venom the kick it needs, but I don’t have the minions I used to.  I need tech.”

Spirit starts on the fourth leg.  The position they have to be to buff is uncomfortable, a strain on their back, but to complain would be stupid, so they deal with the pain.

“That’s where you come in, dear,” Spider Queen turns to them.

Spirit glances up.

“You’re good at getting information, and you probably understand this modern stuff better than I do.” She waves a hand, almost dismissive.  “I need someone to build me some spider robots to transport the venom.   You don’t need to worry about the transport, I’ve got Huntsman for that, but they don’t know what to look for.”

Spirit worked on finishing the fourth leg while they respond. “Of course, Miss Queen.  Does it matter if they’re a demon or not?” They like to know specifics.

“Pfft—no self respecting demon knows anything about these new fangled devices!  We thrive off of power and magic, not tech like phones!  Those are things humans use as a crutch,” Spider Queen rolls her eyes, huffing.

“...Right,” Spirit replies, pointedly not getting offended on Red’s behalf.

It’s okay.  She doesn’t know she’s being rude. Spirit stands up, having finished with buffing Spider Queen’s armory.

“I’ll get on it right away, Miss Queen.  Anything else?”  Spirit finds that being polite does wonders, and Spider Queen likes it when she’s called a Queen.

“Nope!  I’m gonna relax.  Good luck!” Spider Queen’s legs sound with metal clicks as she leaves, waving as she does so.

Spirit waits until they’re sure Spider Queen is far enough away for them to relax.  They turn, walking toward where they can hear open rushing water.  The sewers are essentially a river, and all rivers lead to the sea eventually.  Macaque taught them that.

It takes them around an hour to walk to the end of the sewers, climbing out of the pipe and sitting atop it.  

They’re just a few hundred yards away from the city’s docks.  They dangle their feet over the edge of the pipe and watch the rushing sewer water drain out into the sea.

They pull out their phone.

Red Son would likely know how to work robotics, but they’re supposed to find a human.  Plus, they don’t want to involve Red in this sort of stuff.  They can probably ask Mei.  She doesn’t know about their favor business, so she won’t be any the wiser, and she won’t feel guilty!  It’s the perfect plan.

‘Mei.

Hello!  It’s Spirit.  I was wondering about the technology of the city.  It is very advanced.  How was it constructed?  Who keeps it running?

Let me know if you know!

Spirit’

That should be inconspicuous enough to get Mei to start discussing things.  They don’t like dancing around subjects, but they don’t think this is the sort of thing they can just tell Mei about.  Mei is the type to have more of a moral backbone than Spirit does.  Spirit has their rules, of course, their lines in the sand, but they do most anything regardless of consequence.  What is good, what is bad; they don’t have the power to deliberate on that sort of thing.

If they were powerful enough that no one could hurt them, they would choose good, of course.  They don’t enjoy most of the work they do, they don’t find satisfaction in it besides the comfort of knowing that they’re a little safer, but it’s necessary.  They don’t have the luxury of knowing powerful people to protect them.  They don’t have anyone who would.

So they protect themself, somehow.  It works.

They pocket their phone, and head back towards the city.

They take a detour to the forest, because being in the sewers did nothing to keep them clean.  There’s a stream a few miles out of town that’s perfect for washing in, though, so that’s where they end up, carefully scrubbing the scent out of their clothes and fur and sunbathing on a rock.  They sprawl across it, back curved as their head hangs off one end and their feet and tail the other.  They have to bend their legs a bit, because the rock isn’t tall enough to keep every part of them off of the ground, but it’s mostly comfortable.

Just for a few hours, they let themself rest, polishing off the last few mooncakes as their fur and outfit dry.

They end up falling asleep and wake up as stars dot the sky.  The more they stare, the more their vision becomes unfocused, so that the lights triple in number.  It’s fun, sometimes, to have lopsided eyes.  It creates an interesting view.

They stretch, grabbing their now dry clothes and putting them on.  They’ll take a leisurely walk back to the city, maybe pick up breakfast.  Maybe.  They already ate something this week, and it’s not like they need much.  Why waste the money if it’s for something unnecessary.

Then again, Comes a voice that sounds a little bit like Macaque, a little bit like Father, and mostly like a part of themself they prefer to ignore; Were the mooncakes necessary?

Spirit doesn’t have an answer to that.

An hour’s walk gives them plenty of time to introspect, but Spirit prefers to avoid that.  Their mind is a winding road paved back centuries, but while it started with lovingly placed bricks somewhere along the way the materials were left shattered.  Glass and broken stone leaves feet bloody and pained, and you can’t go around, only through.  So Spirit chooses neither, and leaves the rest of the road to be forgotten.

The road they’re on now, the present, is made with a mosaic of materials they managed to cobble together, after everything broke.  It’s bumpy, there are cracks in the pavement, and you have to be careful.  Spirit is always careful, though; they’ve had the practice.

The issue with being so, so careful is that leaving behind the earliest stretches of road means they remember little of their childhood.  Spirit would never say it aloud, but they don’t remember their mother’s face.  To find that picture would mean flipping through the bloody pages of their photo album, and Spirit is, at the end of it all, a coward.

That’s enough thought for now.  We have to move things along.

Spirit thinks they can have a leisurely morning, but yet another token buzzes in their pocket, much to their chagrin.  Spirit wouldn’t say it, but sometimes it’s exhausting to be at everyone’s beck and call.  They signed up for it, however, they’ve no room to complain.

Reaching into their pocket, they pull out Yin and Jin’s token.  They frown, if only because Yin and Jin call them the most frequently and, often, the favors they’re called for are mundane and silly.  

Though, compared to the harder, less moral favors, they find these preferable.

They consider letting the token ring.  They’ve done that before.  Yin and Jin have so many favors put down that they get a little cavalier with how they interact with the pair.  The two used Spirit a lot before they knew how the system worked and realized using them as a crutch was a bad idea.

Apparently owing Spirit something is a bad thing.  Spirit can’t imagine why.

They sigh.  As much as Yin and Jin are long-time clients, that’s no excuse for being late or lazy.  They take a deep breath, and let the token whisk them away.

They arrive within the city, at the front step of a hideout.  Spirit recognizes the alley once they swivel their head around.  It’s a fair few miles in the middle of the city, where a lot of nooks and crannies lie between the bustling streets.  Perfect for hiding.  It’s not too far from the main road that it would be invisible, though Spirit isn’t sure if that’s because Yin and Jin want to be near the main road or if they just didn’t think about it.  With their general intelligence, it’s 50/50.

They step inside, posture straight.  All business.

“Hello,” they greet.

Inside is a rather sparse dwelling.  There’s what appears to be an unused kitchen off to the right of the main room.  Said room is a large expanse, and a dirty one at that.  At the back of it is a board, covered in pins and string, tying threads together in myriad ways that Spirit can’t quite decipher.  They see Mei up there.  A picture of Pigsy.  The rest are unrecognizable.

“Hey!” Yin calls.  

Spirit’s gaze drops down to them.  They’ve been taller than the two for centuries.

“Got a favor for ya,” Jin continues.

“I assumed,” Spirit replies.  “What do you need me to do?

Red eyes squint with twin sharp-toothed grins, and they pull out a large book.

“Well you see,” Yin starts.

“We wanna go after the Monkie Kid, yeah?” Jin continues.

“So we made a plan,” Yin finishes.

They open the book, straight to the middle, and on the page are...two steps illustrated.  Pretty self explanatory, in the sense that Spirit can tell that they want to use some sort of artifact to trap the Monkey King’s successor.

“So, we figured, Calabash,” Jin points to the first picture.  “We capture him in it, keep ‘im in there, right?”

“Right,” Yin agrees.

They look to Spirit.

“Right?” Spirit says.

They both nod.

“The thing is,” Jin moves on, which Spirit appreciates because they don’t know where this conversation is going, “The calabash is uh, in a museum.”

“It’s old,” Yin supplies.

“You want me to retrieve it for you?” Spirit parses out.

Yin and Jin smile again, all teeth.  It used to be intimidating, but, well, Spirit is older, and smarter.

Spirit is scared of everyone, but there’s a certain safety that comes with knowing that when push comes to shove, they just need to kill one to incapacitate the other.  They’ve seen the two when one is absent without cause.  They can use that, if needed.  Not that they would, but they could.  That makes them safe.

“Now you got it,” Jin crosses his arms over his chest.  

“Sound good?” Yin asks.

“Do I have a time limit?” Spirit likes to know the conditions.

They’re already working on one favor, and if they have to worry about the time limit of another favor, then they have to balance things.  Not that they do much else when not working on favors, but still.  They like to be a little organized.

“We’re gonna order from the restaurant the kid works at in a week or two,” Yin explains.

Spirit nods.  That gives them time.  They have a phone now, too, and Mei taught them how to search stuff on it, so they can look up the museum once they’re out.

“Okay,” They respond.  “Anything else?”

Yin and Jin glance at each other.  They have this way of communicating without words, and Spirit finds it kind of cool.  There’s a twitch of an eyebrow on one face, a small mouth movement on the other.  Their expressions don’t really change, just shift a little.

“Nah, we’re good,” Yin waves them off.

Spirit nods and vanishes without a farewell.

All in all, they don’t dislike Yin and Jin.  Sure, the two are loud and rambunctious, but so is Red, and Spirit could never dislike Red.  In a way, they’re almost jealous of the pair.  They have each other.  They have someone who will never leave, who could never leave.  Inseparable, two against the world.

One is the loneliest number, and maybe Spirit is just a little jealous to know a Yin who isn’t always alone. 

As they head off, scaling the wall and choosing to traverse the city over rooftops, they get a text.  It’s from Mei, a response to their earlier query.  Spirit stops, tail swishing back and forth as they perch on the edge of a roof, toes curled over the edge to grip it as they squat, leaning down to read the text.

‘hey spirit!

the city is the sum of hundreds of years of advancement, with tens of hundreds of programmers and hardware engineers building it up! ive been looking up a lot of them as inspo for my work in tech. 

i like this one programmer, syntax.  hes a mystery, theres only one public picture of him, but hes responsible for most of the tech in the city!  he was the leading programmer for the weather tower and has a bunch of patents he makes money off.  total recluse lol no one knows where he could even live near!  ive always wanted to meet him.  lemme send you some articles!!!!!’

Interspersed between the sentences are a deluge of emojis.  A lot of green hearts, a couple dragons, some rain clouds when mentioning the weather tower.  Beneath the text are a few articles.  Spirit squints.  They think they press their finger on those.

Sure enough, pressing their finger on the article pulls it up in a...they think Mei called it a web browser?  They should ask her next time they’re called over.

Or...well, Mei doesn’t know it, but they’re doing Spirit a favor, giving them this information, and if there’s anything Spirit fears, it’s being in someone’s debt.  She doesn’t know, but she could find out, and if she did, she could use them, she could hurt them—

Well, Mei doesn’t seem the type, but one never knows.

‘Mei.

Thanks.  I’ll read them soon.  Hey, do you want to meet someplace? I know your mother was not thrilled at my offer to teach you swordfighting, but I am still willing to.  As long as we meet away from your house.  I wouldn’t want to get in trouble.

Let me know!

Spirit.’

That should even things out.  A good lesson or two, maybe more.  Spirit would prefer to do more than less when repaying a debt, just to be sure.

They start to peruse the different articles.  The only public image they have of this programmer is striking.  He’s got eccentric hair and a small mustache.  He frowns at the camera, clearly displeased with having his picture taken, a pristine lab coat on and a pair of bright green glasses adorning his face.  There’s a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place as the picture is taken.

The only known thing that he does is go to a specific coffee shop.  Evidently, anytime he goes, the cameras in the area including phones stop working, thus contributing to the lack of photos.  People like to chat about him, simply because of the mystery of it.

They get a text back from Mei.

‘sounds great!  i know a place.  text u the deets later! <3’

Spirit smiles.

They decide to stake out the coffee shop this Syntax goes to.  It’s toward the outskirts of the city, small, with a reputation for using specially designed and grown beans that no one else can replicate.  Supposedly.  It keeps a low profile, as well as a very high end coffee shop can, but most people are priced out of it anyway.  From what Spirit read from reviews, a lot of people would get this coffee as a treat, something to save up for as a present on a weekend.  It’s a large place, and people often go to sit and relax for a while with their drink.

Syntax, evidently, goes there up to five times a week, to the point that his drink is memorized by everyone who works there.  He pays in cash, to avoid any trace that he was there, and then disappears.  People say he avoids being followed.

People, though.  Mortals.  They can’t see souls the way Spirit can.

They catch him on day two of their stakeout, and they sit, waiting, as he orders.  Cash is exchanged, and he walks away.  No one tries to follow him, but Spirit must, so they will.

They blink, and the world bursts into different colors.  Souls of all different shades, constantly interacting with one another.  Syntax’s soul is a neon green, with lavender lines within that resemble code.  The soul takes on the whole of the person, after all.  People more powerful can have souls that show it.  Spirit likes that.  They like knowing that they can always check if people are lying.

They follow, and soon realize why Syntax is so hard to follow.  Every turn and twist he sends out a...well, he can’t make clones, but they’re digital recreations of himself that continue walking in a different direction than the real Syntax is.  They’re near perfect, able to fool anyone who just saw them as is, but they don’t have souls.  

So Spirit follows the soul.

It’s a good hour walk, not that Syntax walks all the way.  Once he’s out of the main city area, he hops into a hover car that seems like a personal project (if the paint job is anything to say about it) and blasts off.  Spirit follows the trail, far enough behind that they can’t see Syntax but close enough that they can catch his colors in their eye.

It’s a good twenty minutes before they reach Syntax’s house.  It looks like a fortress, a large mansion gated and hidden.  Spirit takes a picture, grabs Spider Queen’s token, and disappears.

They were just told to locate him, after all.  They prefer that.  As much as Spirit is good at their job, they don’t like the thought of having to kidnap anyone, because the person would likely scream, or cry, or beg, and Spirit would have to see that.  

It’s easier if they don’t see it.  They already know it isn’t right, they don’t need the painful reminder.

Spider Queen’s lair is as dark and damp as they remember, with the added addition of an expansion of the green pool of bubbling liquid.  It has spread to little pods scattered about the place, glowing ominously with newfound energy.

“Miss Queen?” They call.  

Green eyes blink from the dark, and Spirit stays very still as she comes into view.

“Back so soon?” Spider Queen leans back on her mech, grinning like...what was the phrase Spirit had heard.  Like a cat who had caught the canary?  That’s it.

Spirit doesn’t know why it has to be a canary.  Cats eat plenty of birds.  And mice!  Odd.

“I have what you want,” Spirit replies, keeping it short and to the point.  “He’s an engineer and a programmer, and a recluse, so people probably won’t notice if he goes missing.  I have a picture of his house, and I can take you to it if you want, bu_t”

“That won’t be necessary,” Spider Queen waves a hand.  She clears her throat with intention, and Spirit tilts their head to the side as another figure comes out from the shadows.

“My Queen,” Huntsman’s voice is as gravelly as ever, and he bows a little in greeting.

Spirit gives him a small wave.  He rolls his eyes at them.  

Fair enough.

“I need you to hunt down this human.  He’s important to my debut as Queen of the world!  Spirit here has the details.”

Spider Queen gestures to them, and Spirit jumps a little as the weight of seemingly eyes all fall upon them.

“O-oh!” They fumble to pull out their phone.  “I have-uh-I have a photo of his house, so you can use that, and, uh—”

They look down, and Huntsman is suddenly very, very close to them.  They take a wary step back.  

He sniffs them.

“Were you just there?” He asks.

Spirit slowly nods, holding out their phone so Huntsman can see the picture of Syntax’s house.  He glances down at it, and then after scanning it over, nods decisively.

“I’ll have him here by tomorrow,” he promises.

“He-uh-!” Spirit raises a hand, pressing their fingers to their mouth in apprehension.  “His house looks very high tech.  There’ll uh-there’ll probably be, um, defenses.”

They haven’t talked to Huntsman or Goliath much, in the centuries they’ve been around to help Spider Queen with different things, but Huntsman gave them a knife once.  Said it was because they looked pathetic without a way to defend themself.  They didn’t want to tell him that they already had a weapon, so they kept the knife.  He got them one with a purple grip, even!  It was a nice gesture, and Spirit would like Huntsman to stay alive.

Not that they ever really want anyone dead, but they know it’s often an eventuality, and saving every person, wanting to keep every person they know around is hard, and will only lead to pain.  They know from experience.  Besides, they’re pretty sure no one would do anything to keep them alive.  If a tool breaks you can always get a new one, so Spirit is expendable, and expendable means that you can’t be expected to be kept safe.  They know from experience.  But they like certain hands that wield them over others, so they’d like those ones to remain, at least.

Huntsman grins, at that.

“I love it when they fights back,” he almost purrs before skittering off.

Spirit watches him leave, head tilted to the side.  They suppose it makes sense that he likes hunting, considering his name is Huntsman.  They wonder if his name was because of his type or his profession.  Or maybe his type dictated his profession?  Then again, there isn’t such a spider type as queen, so that’s a little silly to think about.

“Thank you, dear,” Spider Queen says, jerking Spirit out of their thoughts.

Spirit bows.  “Of course, Miss Queen.”

When they stand up, there’s a bag of money—smaller than the one Macaque gave them, but hefty nonetheless—being offered to them.

“You’re too skinny,” Spider Queen says. “I can’t have a servant of mine looking half starved!  Do something about it.”

Spirit blinks.  They didn’t think they were too skinny.  Sure, they could feel their ribs easily, but that's nice, because whenever they break their ribs they can figure out which one super fast.  It’s useful.  They don’t want to disappoint Spider Queen, though, and while she didn’t say it was a favor she is giving Spirit money, so they might as well get something to eat as a job well done gift.

They ignore how that thought makes their stomach squirm.  How they feel about the jobs they are given does not matter.  It never has.

“Of course,” They repeat, taking the bag.  With another bow, they leave.

Thankfully, this trip hasn’t ruined their clothes, so they don’t need to wash them.  They leave through a manhole cover in an alley, and when they peek their head out to see where they are, Bitter Sweets stares them down from across the street.

Well, at least they know they’ll like something from the shop, right?

The bell above the door rings in their ears long after the sound leaves the room, and Almond comes in with a smile that is slowly becoming familiar.  It’s almost motherly, but Spirit wouldn’t say that, because if they did they’d have to run.  Run before the motherly figure burns to dust, disappears for the sole reason of being motherly to them, of all people. 

So for now, they say it is kind, and warm, and comforting.

“Spirit!” she grins up at them.

Spirit smiles hesitantly back.

“More mooncakes?” Almond prompts.

“Yes,” They nod, toes curling in excitement.

Nostalgia hurts a little, but it’s nice, too.  “And—” they start, because Almond is kind, and open, and soft and Spirit can be brave a little. “Maybe, um, you could recommend some stuff?  I-uh,” They rub the back of their neck sheepishly.  “I don’t know the names of most of this.”

They gesture to the display case lamely.

Almond’s smile somehow gets softer, and her eyes light up with excitement.  Spirit’s tail swishes back and forth with a calm joy from making someone happy.

“Of course,” Almond replies.

Getting the Calabash is, unsurprisingly, boring.  Stealing an item is much easier than tracking a person.  One quick search and they find it in a museum, nestled near the center of the city.  Sneaking in is easy, because while they are tall, they’re quiet, flexible, and smart.  That, and the people here are very lax in security.  Being so used to peacetime makes people complacent.  In a way, Spirit is relieved that they have known conflict most of their life.  It keeps them sharp.

They don’t know what to do in peacetime.  There’s always something to do, a job to accomplish.  A fight to help with.  What else can they do?

The only thing that gives them pause is the existence of two Calabashes.  One, older and far larger, is stated as the original.  Evidently, using a mix of demon magic and more modern technology, a new one was made, one that aimed to capture rather than kill.  

Yin and Jin never specified which one they wanted.  If Spirit was to guess, they know the pair would want the original.  The one that melts whoever is trapped within.  The one that kills.

Spirit doesn’t kill children.  And they don’t know the Monkey King’s successor, but he’s a child.  Younger than they are.

Are they a child?  Were they ever?

So they hedge their bets on the idea that Yin and Jin won’t notice the difference, and pick the newer, kinder one.

The pair does not notice.  They’re a bit scatterbrained like that.  Or maybe they don’t care.

Once the Calabash is secured and delivered, Spirit sits atop a random building, chewing on leftover pastries from their last visit to Almond’s bakery.  The sunset is looking awfully nice, but Spirit thinks that the charm is lost once you lose someone to watch them with, so they pull out their phone.

In the news section, there is a small article about Syntax abandoning his favorite coffee shop.  The article supposes that he picked another spot to get his caffeinated beverages.  There are thousands of comments speculating, wondering where he could have gone.

Spirit knows the truth.  The weight of that, the guilt, sits at the bottom of their stomach like a stone.

But there’s a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand stones sitting there, and they’ve been dragging Spirit down for a long time.  One more isn’t going to change much, isn’t going to drag them deeper down than they already are.  They’ve been drowning for centuries.  Drowning, mouth clenched shut, holding in their final breath, as if the moment they let it go they’d finally succumb to the suffocation pressing against them on all sides.  

When they were younger, they’d claw to the surface, take a breath or two, before another stone weighed them lower.  The sunlight doesn’t reach them, with how deep they are now.  Nothing does, because Spirit is alone.  That’s what happens when you hurt everyone around you, isn’t it?

One of these days, they were going to let go.  One of these days, they’d open their mouth, and finally they would be able to scream.

Sometimes all Spirit wants to do is let go, scream, and drown. 

They look at the sunset.  It’s looking awfully nice, don’t you think?

[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Death Eater Draco

A/n: Set during the HBP with Death Eater Draco. Also, sorry, I will come up with a better title soon It was never how he imagined his life would turn out, you both knew that and it was blindingly obvious when anyone took a second to look at Draco as anything more than his father’s son. The summer you spent at Malfoy Manor after Lucius got sent to Azkaban wasn’t as much fun as the previous one when Narcissa had let you and Draco run wild around the house. No, that summer was spent stepping on eggshells around the woman whose husband was in the worst place one could imagine and trying to comfort Draco. You always saw a dark side in Lucius, at just 11 you were pretty sure that 11-year-old Draco hadn’t come to his conclusion about muggle-born by himself and when you finally saw Lucius in Flourish and Blotts being incredibly rude to an 11-year-old Ginny you confirmed your theory of this wicked man’s brainwashing. It wasn’t until third year that you really got close with Draco after you had to take him to the infirmary. Of course, by then you knew his very vocal position on people of different origin than him and yourself but there was a good side of him that you saw, even if it was buried under a mountain of horrible comments. As soon as you were allowed to leave to Hogsmeade on weekend trips you accompanied Draco and his friends and, although it took him a few long weeks, he eventually asked you out on a date and later that year to be his girlfriend. And it was good until summer came and Draco asked you to come with him to the Quidditch world cup. Usually, seeing Quidditch with your boyfriend in some of the best seats in the stadium wouldn’t have been a concern but you knew you were going to have to meet Lucius. Thankfully, possibly due to your blood status, Lucius liked you and agreed you should date Draco. Narcissa was happy, as long as Draco was. Once the Triwizard Tournament was announced you were regularly at Draco’s side to watch the competition, letting him complain about Potter and staying up late together to finished your homework. And of course, the yule ball, where Draco was the perfect gentleman and dancer you were sure his mother trained him to be. That summer was the first time you’d visited the Manor and Narcissa promptly invited you to stay the whole summer, noticing how happy Draco was one night while you played hide-and-seek in the dark. And staying with the Malfoy’s was far more fun than you’d imagined it would be. Possibly you were too blinded by your love for Draco to notice Lucius absence and whatever strange was happening behind those big door of the dining room. Arriving back at Hogwarts for your 5th year was like going back to reality from your dreamland with Draco, not a nice feeling. Then the rules started coming down hard and fast thanks to Umbridge. Thankfully as you were Draco’s girlfriend and Draco kept to the rules, Umbridge didn’t hate you. Of course, there were still quite a few late-night rendezvous in Draco’s dorm with a silencing charm. Then the drama started and was over before you and the rest of the school knew the full story. Draco’s whole demeanour changed and you watched him close up as his father was taken away. As Narcissa loved you and thought it would help Draco come to terms with what he needed to do, she invited you back to the Manor for summer. And that is where you are now. Draco’s room. Fixing your eyes on the luxurious decor to avoid seeing his pale, drained face. Now you were sure there was nothing worse than seeing someone you loved losing themselves. “You should go home.” Draco finally said, causing your eyes to snap back onto his. He was standing in the middle of the room, pacing, as you sat on the bed. All you could manage was shaking your head. “Draco Malfoy.” You began, standing up and taking a step over to him. “I love you so, so, so much and I am not going to let you fall into the trap of thinking you’re like your father.” You pick up his hand that he had crossed and held them in yours. He quickly pulled them away. “You don’t get it!” He very rarely raised his voice with you but this time something felt very real.

“Tell me then.” You say, shrugging. At this point, there wasn’t anything he could do to disappoint you. 

With one look you knew something was really wrong, his whole face was ghost-like and he looked like he wanted to cry. You tugged on his hands and pulled him over to sit next to you on the bed. 

“I... I’m not sure... how to say all of this.” He managed to get out between breaths. “I know you’d hate it so much if I end up like my father but I have to show you this because you’re the only person who can help me.” He rushed out the words quickly and your head started to spin about what could happen but Draco finally stopped it all when he rolled up his sleeve to show you.. His Dark Mark. 

“Oh, Draco.” It was the only thing you could get out as you reached out to touch it. He pulled it away before you could, rolling down his sleeve to conceal it.

Your eyes snapped to his and the look of beyond horror was written on his face. His eyes had lost that spark they used to have, that shine that lit up when you laughed at his bad jokes or when you danced in the kitchen at night. Voldemort had taken that from him. 

“How do you do it?” Suddenly there was anger in his voice, directed at you. Your face turned into a hurt expression that he read as confused. “How can you let me touch you with this.” He pulled up his sleeve to show you. “On my body?” He finished, pointing at the Dark Mark as he paced angry steps along the wooden floorboards.

“Because Draco.” You tell him, standing up and throwing your arms in front of you. “I love you.” He stopped quickly, turning to look at you. “I love you more than I could ever imagine loving anyone and there is nothing you could ever do that would make me not love you.” It was followed by an exasperated sigh, finally, you’d gotten everything you needed to out. 

Draco took a few steps towards you, closing the gap between you before he took your face in his hands. His fingertips fanned out from your cheekbones to your jaw on both sides. Touching you so gently, and as if you were made of glass, he rubbed your cheeks. 

“I am going to do everything I can to protect you, please don’t let yourself get dragged into this.” He told you gently, his voice was so soft. 

“Draco, I don’t mind. If you’re in this then I am as well even if it’s not what I believe, you’re who I believe in.” There was definitely a tough line, of course, you didn’t believe the pureblood ideology that Voldemort did but if you had to fake it for the love of your life then you would.

“I’m 100% sure you’re who I’m going to marry.” His reply came. 

“I am.” You confirm, smiling up at him softly. He leant forward, his lips hovering over yours for a second before he crashed them into yours, passionately but so softly.  “Now let me see it.” You tell him once you’ve pulled apart. 

With a sign, he rolled up his sleeve again and showed you the dark mark. It was incredibly detailed up close before it had only been a picture in the newspaper but now it was permanently on your boyfriend's skin. 

It would have probably made a very nice muggle ‘tattoo’, something Hermione had told you about. Holding his wrist so he could pull away you run your finger along it.

Even as you touched it there was a hot sensation hitting your nerves. “Does it hurt?” You asked him, looking back up to see his eyes fixed on you. 

There was a nod. “Burns sort of and itches.” He explained and you felt even worse for him. Leaning your lips down you placed a kiss on it, then another. He looked appreciative towards you and there was the smile you’d been missing. 

“Now, you tired?” 

~

As the summer continued the situation only worsened, with Draco’s crazy Aunt, Bellatrix, at the house all the time and Draco being in a lot of closed-door meetings. 

You tried to keep your head down, staying in Draco’s room or in the garden but ‘family’ dinners were uncomfortable. 

Finally, there came a night when you got to spend time together, Narcissa and Bellatrix were both out so the house was almost quiet. 

Once they had left Draco rushed back up to his room, wanting to find you as soon as he could.

“Hey.” You said, smiling over at him while you close the book you were reading. All you wanted was to light a fire in his eyes for just a few long hours of the night, so he could remember being happy. Water drizzled down outside the Manor and you could see the whole grounds from the window seat you had.

There were slight tears in his eyes and they began to fall as he walked over to you. Quickly you were wrapping him in a hug as he rested his head on your shoulder, silently letting out tear after tear.

“What’s up?” You asked once he pulled his head off your shoulder.

“It was so hard today, I got my first task and I can’t even tell you what it is because there’s no way I’m going to be able to complete it.” He spits out, wiping angry tears off his cheeks with the back on his hand.

You took your thumb and ran it under his eye. “You don’t have to, baby, just when you’re ready.” That was all he needed to hear to make the rest of the evening slightly better.

Mornings were the hardest, getting Draco out of bed and convincing him to go downstairs and join the group of Death Eaters he didn’t want to be a part of.

“I just can’t.” He cried out, looking hopeless as you tried to pull him out of his room. That’s what broke your heart more than anything, your best friend and the love of your life in so much pain. Like a part of him was missing.

“You need to Draco, your place is a seat at that table.” You knew he didn’t want to hear it but even if he didn’t want it this is where your lives were.

“No, my place is by your side.” Without even trying he made you swoon.

You could feel the smile on your face. “I love you for that but please, Draco, we’re going to have a much better life after this is done. Just think about the future.”

“You know, with you, it doesn’t look so bleak.” He told you, placing a kiss on your lips before walking out the door and going to do what he needed to.

[agwitow]

Alpha Wolves

content warning: swearing, mild violence

Marcus yawned, his jaw cracking, and shook out his pants. It had been a long night, helping two pups with their first change. They were already packed into their parents’ SUVs, fast asleep, and on the way to their homes. In a few months they would be good to join a pack. It wasn’t always as simple with new shifters, but those two each had a parent who was one as well. Even at eight and ten, they knew a fair amount of what it meant to be a lycanthrope.

Dressed in sweats and a light cotton long-sleeved shirt, he ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. Full moon changes always made his hair grow. Even though he’d been clean-shaven before the change, he had what felt like two-days of growth now. Shaggy hair didn’t bother him nearly as much as a beard did, though by the end of the three days he’d need to get that trimmed as well.

He padded barefoot into the little cabin that served as his base of operations while helping new shifters and started a pot of coffee brewing. He hated the stuff, but it would be at least a couple hours before he could head home to sleep, so he needed something to keep him awake.

While it percolated, he checked his phone. Three emails from work, two from the pack, and some spam. He’d just opened the first email when the phone rang.

“Porter Consulting.”

“Mr. Porter, it’s Deputy Palerma from the EKSD,” a male with a pleasant tenor said.

East Keddol was a small town several miles from Hapburgh, the city Marcus lived and worked in. It was in the interesting position of being almost perfectly between Hapburgh pack territory and Redview pack territory. Surprisingly few places fell into the odd in-between spaces between packs, and, as far as he knew, no one had developed any specific protocols for dealing with them.

“How can I help you today, Deputy?”

“We have a shifter—twenty-three-year-old male—who attacked his friends when he shifted for the first time. Miss Davidson recommended I call you.”

Kaelyn Davidson did for the Redview pack what Marcus did for the Hapburgh one. She was, if he remembered correctly, also a month or two out from giving birth. Handling an adult shifter who’d already hurt people was probably not high on her list of ways to spend her time.

“I see. Is your new shifter awake?”

“No. We had to hit him with a tranq to be able to bring him in. He’s changed back, but hasn’t woken up yet.”

Marcus snorted. Safety Departments were, mostly, better than the old police system, but sometimes they were still a little too trigger happy. At least it was a tranquilizer dart instead of a clip of bullets. “I’ll send someone to pick him up. He’s going to wake up before they get there, and he’s going to be cranky and hungry.”

“I’ve taken the class on shifters, Mr. Porter,” Deputy Palerma said, sounding offended. “There is a post-shift recovery kit in the fridge.”

He stifled a sighed. “If that’s all you have, that’s fine, but it would be better if the new shifter could get freshly made food. Eggs, nuts, oats, cottage cheese or Greek yogurt, and pumpkin seeds are best. Avoid meat, if possible, especially red meat.”

“I thought shifters need protein the morning after?”

“We do, and the foods I listed are all high protein items. New shifters can find meats to be… an issue at first. As I’m not able to speak with your young man at present, it’s better to be cautious.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before Palerma said, “Alright. Who will be coming, and when should we expect them?”

“It’ll depend on who is free.”

“Can’t you just tell someone to do it? You’re the alpha, aren’t you?”

Marcus had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning. That damn study from the 40s. “That’s not quite how things work. All pack members have proper ID.”

“Fine,” he said, the word ending with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Thank you. Someone will be there between 10:30 and noon.”

Once they’d said their farewells, Marcus sent out a quick message through the pack’s group chat.

New shifter, East Keddol holding, possible alpha complex. Any takers?

He set the phone down and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding enough cream and sugar to make it mostly palatable, before settling on a stool at the tiny kitchen’s bar-height table. He’d drunk half the cup before a chime indicated he’d gotten a response. Two more chimes rang out before he’d picked the phone back up.

Eddie: I’m free but never handled an alpha complex b4 wdin2k?

Ksenia: lol take a muzzle

Julianne: y can’t the Reds take em?

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, and replied: Kaelyn’s 8 mo. Pregnant. Take the green SUV, put him in the back, and keep the divider up.

Eddie: is it that dangerous?

Thomas: alpha-complexers are just assholes

Julianne: TOM! There are CHILDREN in this chat

Thomas: no regrets!

Marcus temporarily turned notifications off for the group chat, replied to the most important of the work emails, set up reminders for the other two, then headed for the cabin’s futon. By the time he’d make it to his apartment in the city, he’d barely have any time to sleep before he’d need to head back out to meet the new shifter. So he’d nap on the futon and feel stiff for most of the afternoon.

#

A little after 2pm, the rumbling and crunch of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive to the cabin announced the arrival of Eddie and the new shifter. Marcus set aside his laptop and headed out to the porch to greet them. He was still barefoot and wearing sweats and the long-sleeved shirt, but he’d run a trimmer through the beard so he felt less like a back-woods mountain man.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before the back door opened and a young man stepped out with a glower. He was around average height, with enough muscle mass to indicate he worked out at least somewhat regularly. Dark blond hair hung to his shoulders and a thick beard wrapped his jaw—though whether that was a stylistic choice or the moon driven change accelerating his hair growth even more than it did for Marcus was unclear.

“You Marcus?” the young man demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and leaned against one of the porch supports. “I am. And you are?”

“Joseph.”

He nodded and shifted his gaze to Eddie, who’d stepped around to the front of the SUV. “How was the drive?”

Eddie shrugged, his gaze darting to Joseph and then away. “S’okay. Wouldn’t want to do it again, though.”

“Don’t blame you. Thanks for doing it, though. See you next week for a run, okay?”

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Of course. Later, Marcus.”

Joseph scoffed. “Like he would be any good.”

Marcus shook his head and stepped down off the porch. He was a little shorter than the new shifter, though broader in the shoulders and with more muscle mass. “You will respect each and every member of our pack, or you’ll be sent to Palstead Institution. It is not a pleasant introduction to being a shifter.”

“Whatever, man. Just give me whatever stupid speech you’ve got so I can challenge you.”

“There will be no ‘challenging’ here.”

“Fuck that. I ain’t no submissive bitch.”

“What you do or don’t do in the bedroom has no relevance to this situation.”

Red flooded Joseph’s face a moment before he took a swing at Marcus. He’d obviously had a little bit of training, but the movement was still too big to be truly effective.

Marcus side-stepped and twisted a little so that he had more leverage as he placed a palm against Joseph’s arm and pushed. It wasn’t a big push, but the kid had overextended himself and it knocked him off balance enough to make him stumble. He took a step back and waited for the next attack he knew would be coming.

Joseph didn’t disappoint. He came up swinging wildly, rushing toward him as if he couldn’t decide whether to beat his face in or tackle him to the ground.

Marcus calmly deflected each blow, leading Joseph in a circle as he side-stepped and backed away from the attacks. Less than a minute later, Jospeh was panting and struggling to even come close to landing any blows.

“Have you finished with your temper tantrum, yet?” Marcus asked.

Joseph glared at him but stopped, bending over with hands on knees as he panted.

“You seem to be under the misunderstanding that pack members fight each other. Different packs rarely even fight each other.”

“How…how do you know who’s alpha, then?”

“There is no ‘alpha.’ Not the way you’re thinking, anyway.”

“What?”

Marcus sighed and took a seat on the ground. The grass was soft and, thanks to a sunny morning, contained no hint of dampness. After a moment’s hesitation, Joseph slumped down as well. “Pack is family. Would you pick a fight with your dad to try and take over the family?”

“No…”

He shrugged. “Picking a fight with a pack member makes about as much sense. We each have a role to play, and that role is based on our skills and personality and knowledge. Not on who we’re able to beat up.”

“Aren’t we wolves? At least partly?”

“Yes. And that’s how wolves behave.”

Joseph stared at him blankly.

He sighed again. “Come inside. I’ll make you a tuna sandwich and you can read one of the brochures.”

Joseph followed him inside, silent, but with a simmering edge of anger beneath his exhaustion. Once the full moon was over and the forced changes weren’t sapping his energy, he would be a real pain in the ass if Marcus couldn’t nip the problem in the bud.

“Here,” he said, picking up a glossy tri-fold and handing it over. “Have a seat. Read. I’ll make the sandwiches.”

He settled onto a stool, shoulders hunched and brows drawn. “Why Alpha-Dog Theory is BS,” he read. “Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Marcus replied. “Some of the pack wanted to title it It’s Not Your Inner Wolf, You’re Just an Asshole, but that seemed a bit confrontational.”

“… Oh.”

“Mhm.”

(Moon-Bound - part 2)

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[eyessharpweaponshot]

hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

[unmaskedagain]

Truth is Subjective

            This post is based off a prompt by #galahadwilder. I give all credit to them for the idea.

This did not turn out the way I wanted it to. AT ALL. I completely missing the mark; or in this case prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to make it work like I had envisioned when I first read the prompt. And now I’m just like ugh. L

  When Ladybug saw Alya frantically waving her down from where she was on top of her apartment roof. It was, nearly after midnight. She just finished off an Akuma. However, emotions had been running high among the students in her class so Ladybug didn’t hesitate to see what was wrong. Alya made not have been her best friend, or any type of friend, anymore but Ladybug was still a hero.

           A hero who was not happy to see Lila Rossi standing next to her.

           The Italian girl looked pleasant at first glance but anger was clear in her eyes. Alya had her phone out. It took all of two seconds for Marinette to figure out what was going on. Alya wanted an interview with Ladybug and her supposed best friend. Lila was sure Ladybug would reveal the truth like she did last time.

           Marinette fought to keep the grin off her face. She had idea. A rather wicked idea. She had taken to spending a lot of time with Jagged and Penny and Audrey Bourgeois, watching how they manipulated the news to better suit their individual brands. She now know that even if she told Alya what a liar Lila was, Lila could and would easily spin it to say that “Ladybug said that to protect me”. And Alya would just believe it.

           Not this time, Marinette vowed.

“Ladybug!” Alya beamed and immediately jumped into the interview, “I’ve been trying to catch you for months.”

“I know,” Ladybug said coolly.

           Marinette had decided that if Alya couldn’t check her facts, then Ladybug couldn’t work with her. She had been reporting too much false information and more or less become a site dedicated to shipping Ladybug with Chat Noir and promoting Lila’s B.S.

           Alya didn’t seem to notice the frost in the air. “We’re live streaming for the Ladyblog,” She said. “Ladybug and Lila Rossi; best friends forever.” She said waving her phone between the two. “Ladybug, Lila what’s it look being friends. Lila said she helped you rescue a bunch of people when you still lived in Italy. Before you became Ladybug!”

           Lila looked sick, “Now, it was so long ago. She probably doesn’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, Alya, but this interview is over,” Ladybug responded and before reporter could protest, she added. “I refuse to give an interview with my stalker.”

           It was like the wind was punched out of Alya, “Sta- Stalker?”

           Lila just stared with her mouth opened.

           Ladybug nodded gravely, while inwardly Marinette cheered, “Stalker. What else would you call someone who constantly follows you around? Interfere with my rescues. Fantasize scenarios where we’re close personal friends and tells people about it. Try to convince everyone that those tales are real. Maybe it’s a coincidence that she transferred into only class in the entire school, out of all the public schools in France that has had the most akumas thus students I see regularly.  Despite her mother being an important diplomat? Who knows?” Ladybug pitched her nose. “For god’s sake, Alya, she even got close to you, the only journalist I deal with on a continuity. You keeping spinning out her stories; feeding her delusions. Why do think I started avoiding you? I saw you were friends with her. I can’t be around her. I won’t.”

           It went silent. Alya’s mouth had dropped opened. She looked shocked and slightly ill. Lila looked like she was considering murder. Marinette was five seconds away from doing her happy dance.

“Alya,” Ladybug said seriously. “Be honest, Lila’s said so many stories about so many celebrities but there’s no real evidence backing it up. Her grand adventures with Jagged Stone, Prince Ali, Clara Nightingale; it’s all in her head. At least point, I’m started to think they may have been her past obsessions. She claimed I healed her so many of different diseases, I thought someone was going to try to give me saint hood. Do you really think Jagged Stone would write a song about an underage girl without her parents knowing? Or that Clara Nightingale stole her dance moves. Do you know how bad that looks? Not to mention that model kid Adrien Agreste. From what I heard, what she’s doing to him is borderline sexual harassment. I think they’re victims,” She stressed the word. “Like me. If I wasn’t concerned about my secret identity, I’d have gone to the police by now.”

“Police!” Lila squeaked.

           Ladybug shook her head, “I know people. Maybe I can just do a cease and desist order on the Ladyblog. But this has to stop,” She told Alya. “It’s the middle of the night, which is dangerous enough as it is. But there was an akuma as well. You called me, again in the middle of the night, to meet with my stalker. Do you know how scary that is? How that makes me feel?” She asked.

“I’m sorry!” Alya said with tears in hers, her phone still streaming. “I didn’t know.”

           Ladybug threw up her hands, “You didn’t even bother to ask! At any time in the last year, you could’ve checked with me that you were reporting the truth.”

           Alya sobbed. Lila just glared. She was too busy thinking of ways she could spend this.

           Ladybug looked around, with suspicious, “Do your parents even know where you are?”

“Well, I, I mean,” The glasses wearing girl stuttered.

           Marinette raised her hands in surrender, “No. I’m done. You’ve gone too far. You put yourself in danger. And you put me in danger. All for an interview. No more. You obviously don’t take this seriously; being a journalist, your blog, your life, anything. I’m done. I won’t work with you again. I can’t risk it.”

           And with that Ladybug, yo’yo’d away. When she transformed back to normal and safely got to her house, Marinette fell to the floor laughing. Tikki joined her. Revenge was sweet.

           The bluenette plopped down her bed. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. For months and months she had been accused of bullying Lila, of being jealous, by tomorrow all of France would know what happened on the rooftop.

           Lila wasn’t outed as liar like she thought she would be. No, Marinette, Rossi got a much worse fate.

           When Marinette woke up the next morning, it was like the world had caught on fire. Nadja was having field day. Celebrities Lila had said she knew vocally denounced every knowing the girl. The world cried, “Poor Ladybug.”

           Marinette blinked at the sheer quiet of her class. She had expected chaos. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe Lila was able to spin it around for the class.

           No that wasn’t right. Nino was comforting Alya, who had red eyes and messy hair.

“What’s going on,” She asked Adrien, one of the few people who were still friendly with her in class. She may not have had a crush on him anymore but she still thought he was a decent friend.

“You don’t know?” Alix asked, with shock on her face. “How could you not know? All of Paris is talking about Ladybug’s stalker.”

           Marinette scratched the back on her head, a look of faux-confusion on her face, “I got up late again, I didn’t have time to look anything up,” Looks of understanding came from the students. “Wait! Stalker?!” She took a dramatic pause. “…You know?”

           Alya stood up angrily, “You knew!”

           Marinette took a hasty step back, “Of course I knew. Don’t you remember I got you your first interview with Ladybug? I know her.” Alya looked somewhat placated but still angry. She told me all about it. She was really freaked out. But I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” She defended. “I don’t break my promise. Yet I tried to warn you as best I could. I tried to warn everyone.” Marinette shrugged. “And look what happened. Most of us aren’t even friends anymore.”

           Her words were a slap to the face. Most of her former friends had the grace to look ashamed.

           Marinette just shrugged again and went her seat.

“I’m ruined,” Alya cried into Nino’s shoulder. “My fans hate me. Half of them think I was lying to them. The other half hate me because I hurt Ladybug. How was I supposed to know Lila was a nutjob?”

“You could’ve fact checked,” Marinette told her. “Listen to me even one of the hundred times I told you she was lying. Asked Ladybug. Asked Chat Noir. Read the twenty percent of the Ladyblog’s comments that she said was lying. You could’ve done a lot to find out the truth.” She stared hard at her former friend. “You chose not to.”

           Alya cried harder.

“Harsh, dudette,” Nino glared at her.

           Coldness went down Marinette’s back. She stood up, “Harsh!” Marinette yelled, everyone flinched back. “Yeah maybe it’s a bit harsh. But you know what was worse? Losing all my friends. Being called a liar. A jealous psycho. Being bullied by people who I’ve known forever. Getting mean, nasty texts that could have the sender charged with harassment.”

           The bluenette glared around the room; at the paling, stunned faces of the other students.

“Harsh,” She hissed at Nino. “Well I’m sorry if the truth is a little harsh. But I think after falling for so many lies, maybe Alya deserves the truth for once. You all do.”

           Alya pulled away from Nino, and nodded. “She’s right,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m so sorry.”

           Marinette looked at Alya, her former bestie. Nino the boy she thought always had her back until he stabbed her in it. Kim, her friend since they were in diapers, who had no problem accusing Marinette of awful things. Alix and Mylene, who led the charge against her. Nathanial who had sat and done nothing when they spilled and destroy her designs.

“Sorry’s not always enough,” Marinette admitted, hurt filling her. “There’s another truth for you.”

“My dad’s furious,” Adrien said, gaining everyone attention. “Everyone knows he insisted Lila do the photoshoots with me. An insider even revealed that I made it clear I was bother by Lila. They think he doesn’t take sexual harassment at work seriously. Brand’s taking a hit.”

“Ladybug must be so scared,” Sabrina put in. “My dad told me about some crazy stalker cases he’s seen. They got really obsessive. One guy even kidnapped a kid because he though it looked like his and this woman’s future child. Said the child was theirs. Dad wants me to stay away from Lila. He doesn’t want me getting her attention. Who knows what she’d do?”

           Sabrina words sent shivers through the students. A few who watched true crime stories looked particularly green.

“We should’ve caught on,” Alix frowned. “None of her stories even made sense. Saved a cat from being hit by a plane? Really? Are we morons?”

“Something must be seriously wrong with her,” Rose offered. “Maybe she just needs help.”

“She needs a nice white jacket,” Kim growled. “And a padded cell.”

“Where is Lila?” Marinette asked.

           Surprising it was Juleka who answered, “Hiding in her house. Reporters everywhere want a one on one with Ladybug’s Stalker. Her face is all over the news. She’s trending on Twitter. So’s the Ladyblog.”

           Alya groaned. Her blog, her life’s work was finally getting the attention she always wanted but in the worst possible way.

           Nino hugged his girlfriend, “At least no one will ever be fool again,” He offered.

“Undoubtable,” Max agreed. “I foresee that Lila is well on way to be the most famous stalker in recent history. They’ll use her as a textbook example one day, if this carries on. People will base their doctorates on her mental health.”

           Marinette smirked.

           Lila was going to get the all attention she’d ever want.

[alwaysmychoices]

So, I wrote a HC that was pretty angsty and messy about what would have happened if Ethan and MC started dating after Miami. I still think that would have happened, but I started wondering, “what would I have written if I was writing a cute HC about that?” Next thing I knew, it was 2 am and I was writing this on my phone from my bed. 

So, here are all the cuter details about what I think would have happened if they started dating in Book 1.

Ethan & MC Dating after Miami - Cute Moments HC  💖

When Ethan and MC started a relationship in Miami, neither of them had any idea how hard those first six months would be. Between the fights and miscommunications, they were just trying to get to know each other while their personal lives went to hell.

There were breakups, makeups, passive aggressions, avoidance, and even a few rounds of silent treatments.

But there was a reason they always came back. Because, late at night, when they mulled over their loss, it wasn’t the bad things that they thought of - it was the good, the pure, and the four letter word on the tip of their tongue that brought them back to each other’s doorstep time and time again.

Because, when they were good, they were amazing.

Ethan loved to send MC flowers.

Before MC, he had never been the kind of man who sent flowers. They were messy, impermanent, and hard to enjoy when you spent all your time at work.

But one time, MC said she mentioned that she liked buying flowers because they allowed her to enjoy a piece of nature, even when she spent her whole day inside the hospital.

The first time he sent them, Ethan had made a real ass out of himself. He said something stupid at dinner, which lead to a fight. He had already worked it out with MC, and though she assured him it was alright, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do something to prove that he wasn’t such a jerk. On impulse, he ordered 2 dozen roses to be sent to her apartment.

When she got home to her roommates crowding around the prettiest rose bouquet she had ever seen, it didn’t even cross her mind that it could be for her - not until Elijah supplied the card addressed to her from a secret admirer.

Once she was alone, MC called Ethan to make sure it was really him. She couldn’t imagine him willingly ordering such a romantic gift, but she also couldn’t picture someone else giving it to her.

When she asked him if he bought the flowers, he tensed, afraid he’d accidentally risked their secrecy by sending it to her home, but he anxiously admitted that he did and asked if she liked them.

And when she said she loved them... he felt a feeling so unfamiliar he couldn’t classify it. He was so proud to be the one who sent them and so happy that he found a way to make her smile when he so often felt like he was always messing up with her. Right then, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time he sent her flowers.

And it wasn’t. He regularly sent her bouquets and only let up a little when her roommates became suspicious. Once, when MC was alone in his apartment dog sitting Jenner, he had a massive flower arrangement delivered to her with just the message “I miss you.”

To accommodate their busy schedules, date night usually meant going back to Ethan’s apartment with takeout, but after one too many nights of Thai delivery, Ethan decided to teach MC how to cook.

He was startled to realize she had absolutely no idea how to cook. How had she gotten this far into adulthood without this basic skill? Every week, he had a new recipe for them to try, and he would walk her through all the steps.

When Ethan concentrated on cooking, he got these little lines between his eyebrows. MC thought they were cute. Sometimes, she would smooth them out with her thumb to remind him to relax. Other times, she would kiss them. When she did that, he always became distracted. Once, he almost cut his hand because he was so wrapped up in her.

Ethan pretended to find this annoying, but whenever she did it, he showed a small smile that gave him away.

Their fights were usually brutal. They were both so smart and so stubborn that the fights became unwinnable.

And probably because of that, their debates were practically a force of nature.

More than once, they spent a whole Saturday afternoon half naked in Ethan’s apartment and debating the finer points of medical ethics or treatments for patients. They usually could reach an agreement, except when they debated pineapple on pizza.

They pushed each other.

They made each other better doctors for having worked together and better people for having known each other.

Perhaps more importantly, they cared about each other. Even when they were locked in a disagreement or feigning disinterest, they cared. If the other needed them, they were there.

They needed each other more than they would admit. Very quickly, MC became Ethan's rock as they treated Naveen. She was the only one who could understand what he was going through.

MC was nervous to tell Ethan about being sabotaged at work. She didn't want him to think of her as the kind of person who blamed someone else for her mistakes, but when Landry was exposed as a traitor, she was devastated and just wanted Ethan to comfort her.

When he found out all that Landry did, Ethan was furious. Beyond hurting his girlfriend, he had endangered dozens of patients and the stability of the whole hospital.

But he was also hurt that MC hadn't told him.

Ethan realized that he wanted to be the person she shared her problems with. He wanted to be her person, just like she was his.

MC was surprised that, when it came to someone insulting or hurting her, Ethan was always on her side - even when she was equally as guilty. Once, MC complained that an attending made a sexist, offhand comment during rounds. Ethan never liked that attending again. When someone hit on MC and made her uncomfortable when they were at a bar together, Ethan told him off and forced him to leave.

Ethan was equally surprised by how jealous MC could get. He rarely noticed when women flirted with him, so it took him a few months to detect MC's jealousy. The first time he saw it, they were having a drink at a bar. A woman was very shamelessly coming onto him, though she didn't get much of Ethan's attention, but MC looked furious. Every time the woman came over to talk to them, MC moved just a little bit closer until she was almost in his lap.

When he took MC home, he commented on it, assuring her that he was only there for her, but MC grumbled that it happened all the time and that he didn't notice.

So, he started paying attention, and wow, it happened way more often than he thought. Even patients flirted with him, earning a glare from MC.

Once, when Ethan and MC were in the middle of a really big fight, Ethan caught MC staring at him at Donahue’s. To get a rise out of her, Ethan started flirting with the woman sitting a few seats down at the bar. MC was outraged. Thirty minutes later, when he got up to leave, MC followed him out, and they yelled at each other in the ally. And then they made out in the ally and had sex in the back of his car.

The next morning, they acted like nothing happened at work.

In fact, that was usually how they acted at work.

But at the beginning of their relationship, there were plenty of cute moments to be had at Edenbrook.

Like when their hands would accidentally brush when looking over a chart. Or when Ethan's breath hit her neck when he looked over her shoulder to see if she was doing something right. Or secret meetings in his office under the guise of needing to talk about a patient.

But MC thought the sweetest moments where the ones when he would see her coming down the hall, and just for a second, his face soften and warm to her. Almost immediately after, his face would harden again as he got back to work. But in that short little moment, MC knew she made him happy.

Keeping the secret was so hard, especially when MC was always under the watchful eyes of her roommates and friends. 

They were all convinced she was in love with someone and joked that she had a secret boyfriend. MC laughed along, but they never actually thought it was Dr. Ramsey.

To make it a little less obvious, she always joined in when they complained about him. 

Ethan noticed and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t stop her. 

The only person who noticed in Ethan’s life was Naveen, but Ethan skillfully dodged the question whenever he could.

However, they had almost been caught so many times, in and out of the hospital. Even at the farmer’s market, they weren’t safe from a coworker finding them and innocently approaching. 

MC always looked around before she kissed him, and Ethan had to be at least 5 miles from the hospital to show any display of affection, not that he particularly liked public displays of affection in the first place.

MC knew that she loved Ethan before she even really knew him, which was terrifying. She worried that, one day, she would learn some horrible fact or realize some unforgiveable trait. Ethan, on the other hand, never imagined that MC would become ruined in his eyes. He didn't think she could. No, he worried that he would be the one to make the mistake.

Both them harbored a lot of insecurities in their relationship - insecurities that held them back.

When they shed them, even just for the night, it was incredible.

Some of the best nights were spent wine-drunk, oversharing hundreds of little details that shaped who they were. MC liked hearing about Ethan's childhood, and she frequently needled him about his mysterious past relationship with Harper. Ethan wanted to know everything about her adult life before him, even when it included ex-boyfriends he instinctively hated.

When their relationship settled into comfortable, stable commitment, they still had nights like that.

Even when they moved in together, they sometimes picked out a bottle of wine, finished the whole thing, and spent the second bottle of wine sharing stories and experiences.

That was when it felt real. That was what reminded them that this was magic - that this was love.

@stateofgracious I think this was kinda cute, so maybe I can do some cute ones  🤞

[yugfics]

The Truth Untold jackson wang (angst)

/"I can’t show you me, give you me.  I can’t show you a ruined part of myself... But I still want you."/

The sound of water falling from the shower onto the tiled floor was drowned out by Jackson's thoughts.

Control yourself, he willed, as he held back tears with firmly shut eyelids. His hands were placed, supporting himself, on the sides of the sink in front of him.

His eyes opened and he found himself staring at a slightly fogged mirror. The man he saw in it was different from the one he knew. They had the same deep eyes, but the ones belonging to the man in the mirror were sad, lost -- there was no hint of joy in them like Jackson usually had, and there was no glint of mischief.

Because he always reserved that Jackson for you.

But this man in the mirror, this lost soul, who was bearing a burden that would never lift, keeping a secret he'd never reveal, this was the same Jackson, wasn't it?

Two sides of the same story.

He was hiding that side from you, and the promise he'd made to give you his whole self -- a promise he knew he'd never be able to keep -- was another thing tearing him apart every day.

Averting his eyes from the mirror, he opened the cabinet, reaching towards a semi-transparent, sky blue cylindrical container.

The pills it held rattled as he brought it closer. Staring silently at it, his grip tightened and tears pricked his eyes.

He was tired of people worrying, thinking of him as weak. It'd gotten to the point where he simply didn't tell anyone.

And when he met you, when he fell for you, when he knew he loved you, he knew he couldn't risk you leaving him.

He'd never let you know about his illness. The only thing that would lead to you finding out was when his time was up -- when he could no longer fight what was killing him from the inside out.

Unscrewing the cap, he dropped two pills into his palm before tossing them in his mouth.

He promised himself he'd fight for as long as he could, stay with you for as long as he was able to. And hope that when he was finally gone, you wouldn't hate him for what he'd kept from you.

This was a battle he was going to fight alone.

*** The wind fluttered in from the open window, causing loose strands of your hair to dance on the gusts of air.

You brushed them away from your face as you looked out at your street. The trees matched the autumn colours the sunset in the distance was painting the sky, and you adored the shades of tangerine and terracotta.

Stepping away as you closed the window, you heard your doorbell ring. The sound brought a smile to you face as you knew who it was. Picking your phone and your purse, you hurried down the stairs, opening the door to see your boyfriend, Jackson.

He smiled at you and you engulfed him in a hug. "I missed you,"

You felt the movement of his chest as he laughed in response to your statement. "You saw me yesterday!"

"And I wish I could see you everyday," you retorted, before he smiled at you, lifting his hand to your cheek and meeting your lips.

"Let's gooo," you said after he'd pulled away, holding his hand.

*** Jackson smiled lovingly at you as you took photos of trees and sky, anything you thought looked pretty, worth photographing. It was something you loved to do, something you were very good at, and Jackson loved how happy you looked when you were with your camera. The camera he'd given you for your birthday.

You had so many things to remember him by -- so many memories -- and it was this thought he appreciated most when feeling especially low about leaving you.

"It's Incurable, Mr. Wang, there's nothing we can do except prescribe a few pills in the hopes of elongating the... amount of time you have left. I am very sorry,"

Jackson had never felt anything as terrible as he did when those words came out of his doctor's mouth. "Exactly... exactly how much time do I have left?"

"Two years, at most, if you take your pills regularly,"

Two years.

That'd been two years ago.

"Jackson?"

"Are you okay?" you asked again, causing him to look at you.

He smiled, looking at you as if he was memorising every inch of your face -- like he never wanted to forget.

"I was just wondering what life would be like without you. It was terrible,"

You smiled and pushed him slightly as you both began walking. "Why would you do that? I want to be with you foreverrr,"

Ignoring the painful pang he felt at your words, he laughed. "Are you proposing to me?"

*** He was holding your hand in his, and you were leaning into him, a blanket covering both of you as you watched TV.

Jackson was beginning to feel uncomfortable, however, because he had the growing feeling that something was wrong with him. He hadn't forgotten to take his pills, and he stated intently at the screen, trying to gauge the problem.

Colours blurring, he was suddenly seized by a painful headache. "Ah," he said, clutching his head in his hands.

"What?" you asked, holding him and pausing the movie.

He looked at you, though you were nothing but a blur. Dazed, he stood up. "I just need to go to bed," he told you.

“Alright,” you said, softly, standing up and allowing him to lean on you as you led him towards your bedroom. You offered painkillers, but he insisted he didn’t need them. His headache had gotten better, and he could see normally. Despite being still worried, you helped Jackson into bed before laying down next to him, wrapping your arms around him. Eventually, you fell asleep, and he did as well, though he kept tossing and turning. 

*** Abruptly, he sat up. You were still sleeping and it was dark out. He hurried out of bed.

Something was wrong.

Reaching the toilet, he wondered if the feeling he had was just the need to throw up. Minutes passed, and nothing happened.

He began to cough. Surpressing it to prevent waking you, he brought his hand to his mouth, removing it when he'd stopped.

Blood.

Fear gripping him, he rinsed his hand and reached into the cabinet for his pills.

I'm dying.

He knew it now -- this wasn't like other times, this was real -- and this knowledge, after years of waiting, wasn't as painful.

He tossed his pills into the rubbish.

After another fit of coughing, he managed to walk over to your side of the bed -- on weak legs. Kneeling down, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you.

"I love you," he whispered, placing a small kiss on your forehead. The last he'd ever give you.

I have to tell her.

Scrambling for something to write on, he settled on a sticky note, taking a pen from your desk.

When he was done, he could no longer hold back his tears. Through watery eyes, he looked one last time at you, before getting up and leaving.

Though he'd been preparing himself for this day, though he'd known from the beginning that he'd lose you -- that you'd lose him -- having it happen for real was something he could never have prepared himself for. It's hard to believe when something you hold dear comes to an end, when you know it really is the last time.

Life is a series of separations, but he really didn't think there was anything worse than knowing you were being separated not from any single person, but from yourself.

Gathering the last of his strength, got to the ground floor, walking as far as a few metres from your condominum before finding someone to give him a ride to the hospital.

*** You woke up to an empty bed. Wondering if Jackson was in the kitchen or the bathroom, you listened. No sound whatsoever of another human being. You were alone.

He's left his things, though?

Sitting up, you reached for a yellow sticky note that was peeking out from under your boyfriend's phone.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you this, and I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Because if you're reading this, I'm not here, and I probably never will be again. I should have told you this long ago, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being that selfish, I thought you’d leave me if you found out. Instead, here I am, leaving you. The rare disease I have, despite being incurable, is painless, and I tried to live my best life possible with you. You're the most important person in my life, y/n, every day I lived I dreaded leaving you, every day I hated that I couldn't tell you. I was afraid you'd leave me if I did. Know that I love you, though, I love you and your laugh and your smile and the things you enjoy and the way you love me. The way you make me feel alive. I promise that the last thing I think of will be you.

I hope you don't live resenting me because of what I kept from you. I love you. I love you.

The paper shook in your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks. 'Jackson' you thought. All you wanted was to speak to him and hold him and tell him he could share everything with you.

You wanted to tell him you loved him.

The room felt like large, hollow, empty. How could he leave you like that? How could he? 

Your phone lit up, and you turned to see that Mark, Jackson’s friend, was calling you. 

“Mark,” you said. “Jackson-”

“He’s here at the hospital. He called me while he was on his way,”

“Is he...” hope filled your body. Maybe he’s alive. The doctors could have done something... put him on something. Standing up, you began to walk towards your bedroom door, energy rushing through your legs.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry,” Mark’s voice wavered, as if he was trying not to breeak down. “He didn’t make it,” 

This information hit you like a bullet. For a few moments, you felt nothing, heard nothing. A deep sadness began to grow inside your chest, the weight settling. Legs suddenly losing stability, you fell to the ground, dropping your phone as tears began to stain your cheeks once more.  You dropped your phone and leant on the doorway.

He’s really gone. 

All you could think about was him. A year of him being your boyfriend flew through your mind. All the ups and down, the laughter and the tears. The times you’d told him you loved him.

His smile. He’d been keeping something so painful, yet he always managed to wake up in the morning and be with you, and smile. You curled up into into a ball as sobs wracked your body, and you were sure that you’d never felt so alone in your life.

[cloudshapedpatch]

take my money (take my heart, too)

the awkward julie & luke sugar daddy/baby au no one asked for

rated teen and up for swearing and semi-mature themes such as the concept of a sugar daddy/baby arrangement

no smut! insane tooth-rotting fluff tho

slow burn juke

and disaster lesbians flarrie side plot and (eventual) willex

also a coffee shop au because i said so

read on ao3 (chapter 1 and tag list below the cut)

* * * *

Julie is nervous. No, nervous is an understatement. Her knees bounce uncontrollably under the table, shaky fingers twirling the straw in her iced coffee. And the knot in her stomach seems to grow ever tighter.

She pulls out her phone to check the time for the third time this minute. How is it still 10:57 am? Just as she is about to put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzes with an incoming text from her best friend/roommate, Flynn.

Flynn: calm down

Julie smiles despite herself, turning around to look at her friend a few tables away. Thank goodness for her friend, willing to throw away a morning to make sure she is safe and comfortable on her blind date. She shoots Flynn a small smile. Flynn, to their credit, is taking their job very seriously, wearing an absurdly large sunhat and sunglasses, sipping on a mug of hot tea with a decoy book under her nose.

Julie turns to anxiously watch the baristas, moving around the small space with ease, mixing drinks hot and cold alike. Twirling around each other without even looking. And she lets her mind wander.

How had she gotten here? Waiting for a man whom she had never spoken to, let alone seen? And she isn’t counting their text messaging. Not really. Not even if they had been talking for weeks. Not even if they regularly stayed up well into the night just to keep talking to the other. Not even if he had her blushing furiously, toes curling from giddiness and hiding under her sheets, smiling at the flirtatious speech bubbles on her phone for longer than she’d like to admit.

Because that doesn’t count. She has never heard his voice. She has never seen what he looked like. Anyone could be a charmer, and she is undoubtedly nervous about who she might find walking through the door and towards her.

How had she gotten here? It is a simple question, and one she has the answer to. Doesn’t mean she likes it. She had made an offhand comment to Flynn at work one day. Julie is sick of working 12 hour days in the cafe (not this one. she would be dumb to meet a stranger in her workplace) and barely scraping by. She had joked she needed someone to fund her shopping sprees.

Flynn had suggested a sugar daddy.

Julie wants to bang her head on the table. Past Julie is an idiot. And now Present Julie is going to pay the price.

Why had she let Flynn convince her to download that dumb app?

(Because she has a virtually useless college degree, bills to pay, and school loans creeping up on her and she is cutting back every month. Living in L.A. isn’t cheap.

And, if she really lets herself think about it, Julie is lonely.)

She checks her phone again, pleased to find it is finally 11 am. He should be here any minute. Luke should be here any minute.

Is it a red flag that he had only been willing to share his first name? Should it have concerned her that he didn’t have a profile picture on his online dating account? Is she dumb for letting him change the subject every time she asked about his job? Solid ‘maybe’s to all of those, but! After they had started talking, they had instantly clicked. He loves music almost as much as she did, maybe even more. They bonded over that, and many other things.

This is fine.

She straightens her posture, glancing down at her dress to make sure all is in order. It’s baby blue with golden sunflowers all over, and she had slipped a cropped denim jacket on top, the one with patches of all her favorite bands. She fusses with the loose curls hanging by her face, her hair pulled into a half bun at the top of her head, leaving a clear view of her sunflower earrings. It’s the perfect outfit to be noticed in, she had told him she’d be wearing blue and sunflowers, certainly he wouldn’t miss her.

Whenever he decided to show up.

Wait. he would show up, wouldn’t he?

Of course he would.

...Right?

Before she can get too far down that rabbit hole, the chime above the door is jingling, and Julie has to fight hard not to turn and see who it is. The anticipation crawls up her spine and settles in her neck, jaw tingling.

A man comes in, approaching the counter with confidence in his step. One barista takes one look at him and gapes like a fish, turning to a coworker to nonchalantly point at him. Both girls look at each other and quietly squeal, letting one of the male cashiers help him.

Must be attractive, she thinks, and she isn’t disappointed by what she can see from the back. His sleeves are short, showing off his muscular arms and he’s tall. She’s always liked tall men.

Supposedly handsome stranger orders his drink and waits at the counter for it. One of the girls hands it to him with a gleeful smile. He accepts, then says something to her before the girl’s smile falters and points right at Julie.

Wait, she’s pointing at Julie?

Definitely handsome stranger follows her finger and lands on Julie, eyes scanning up and down her body (at least, what he can see from above the table), his face instantly lighting up in the most gorgeous smile she’s ever seen.

And then he’s turning back to say thank you and then making his way towards her and oh no what what what--

Because this isn’t her date. It can’t be, right? But Luke Patterson is stepping up to her booth, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Hey, you’re Julie, right?” His voice, sweet and thick as honey, and Julie would know that voice anywhere.

“Luke Patterson? You… you didn’t say--” She cuts herself off before she can say something foolish.

Because there is no way in hell she’d unknowingly put up her sugar baby services to Luke fucking Patterson. Not rockstar Luke Patterson. Not lead guitarist and singer and songwriter for her favorite band, Sunset Curve. Not literally in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame Luke Patterson.

“Yeah, about that… I am really sorry about not telling you. It’s just not something I like mentioning to everyone I meet, you know?”

She’s having a hard time processing what he’s saying. He’s so close. Why is he leaning on the table like that? Why is he so close?

“Yeah! Yeah, totally. That’s understandable.” She laughs nervously, taking a sip of her coffee to avoid speaking any further.

“This… this is okay, right? You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” This clears her mind a bit. She takes in the way his hands fiddle with the rings on his fingers, his shoulders raised, and while his smile is easygoing, his eyes say otherwise. Why would she be mad?

She expresses this to him, and he just looks at his hands.

“Well, because I wasn’t completely truthful with you. And I totally understand if you want to walk away.”

“No!” She says before she can filter herself. His eyebrows raise in amusement. “I mean, it’s fine! I was just… surprised, that’s all.”

And surprised is correct. Luke Patterson is the same Luke she’s been talking to for the last three weeks, the very same one who’s been making her laugh and who’d almost made her miss work last week because they had texted about everything and nothing until the sun came up.

He seems to like her answer. His smile never leaves his face.

“You seemed to recognize me. You a fan of Sunset Curve’s?”

And maybe it’s the way his cocky smile burns her cheeks, or just the fact that he’s talking to her. Panic sets in and she lies.

“Never heard of Sunset Swerve.”

“You knew my name.”

“You know it’s a household name, right?”

“Your jacket says otherwise.”

And shit. She had forgotten about the Sunset Curve patch right over her heart. In fact, it was the first patch she had put on the jacket. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Fine. You caught me. I’m a Curver. Happy?”

And though she’s teasing, he couldn’t seem to be happier. Seriously, she’s worried his dopey grin is gonna break his face. Then an ugly, ugly thought rears its head in her mind.

“Wait. You let me gush about Sunset Curve so many times and you didn’t say anything?” Her sentence ends in a laugh.

“Oh, Julie, I wanted to so bad. You have no idea!”

Julie finds herself not really registering the second half of his sentence. She had missed it, the first time he said her name due to being starstruck, and her face warms a bit when she recalls just how good her name had sounded when he said it. Like a splash of cool water on a hot day. Like sap dripping fresh from a tree, glinting in the sunlight.

“Then why didn’t you?”

He sobers a bit at this, though his eyes still hold the same fire as before. “Well, I didn’t really want to go around announcing that. Can you imagine how many matches I’d get if I put that little tidbit in my bio?”

Julie laughs at this, the absurdity of it hitting her. Of course. He’d want someone who’d like him for him, not for his status, or name, or fame or money.

Oh. Shit. She was literally here for his money.

“For sure! Must’ve been hard.”

“Oh, not really. I matched with you on day one and deleted the app once we exchanged phone numbers.”

“Really?” Julie felt a little guilty for still having the app on her phone now, even after she was pretty sure Luke was a good match. There was still the possibility that mystery man was a total creep. If she’d have known who he was, on the other hand…

“Totally! I’ll be honest, my bandmates put me up to this, but once we started talking I just knew I had to meet you.”

Julie’s mind still feels a bit foggy, like she was dreaming. A fantastic dream, might she add.

“I’ve been really excited to meet you too. My best friend also convinced me to get the app. She’s actually over there.” Julie smiled, nudging her head over towards her friend, where they were certainly trying their best to eavesdrop.

“Brought a plus one, I see?” Luke chuckled, giving Flynn a wave. Flynn hid her already shielded eyes from view with her book.

“Hey, you gotta remember I was meeting someone whom I had never seen before, and the fact that I didn’t know your last name was not helping.”

Luke’s smile turned bashful again. “Ah. She’s backup.”

“Yep! But I think they’re good to go.” Julie whipped out her phone and sent Flynn a quick message, relieving her of her duties.

“You sure? I might kidnap you.”

“I’d let you kidnap me.”

Oh god. She so did not say that.

He seemed to think it was funny. At least she was amusing. At her own expense, maybe, but amusing nonetheless.

Amusing to Luke Patterson.

If she doesn’t stop saying his last name, she’ll go insane. This is just the dorky guy she’s been talking to. The one she’ll hopefully get to talk to tomorrow.

Despite the rocky start, Julie would say it was a successful date. Coffee turned into lunch at a nearby bistro, and he walked Julie to her car a few blocks away. She didn’t get to her apartment until after 4 o’clock, and Flynn was waiting with two glasses of wine in their shared living room. Julie is eager to spill all the details, and Flynn is the perfect listener, oohing and ahhing at all the right moments.

As Julie crawls into bed after her eventful day, her phone dings on her nightstand.

PayPal: Luke Patterson sent you $500.00  “I had a great time today :) hope to see you again soon!”

Well. If she had calmed down any, this just undid all of her efforts. A wave of guilt floods over her. The concept of a sugar daddy sort of seemed too outlandish to really fathom. But now she feels awful taking his money.

She’s really doing this, isn’t she?

Julie: you really didn’t have to

Luke: but i wanted to

Luke: it’s ok tho right?

Julie: i guess it’s fine, it’s just a lot of money

Luke: i realise how conceited this is going to sound but its no sweat off my back. just think of it as a gift

Gifts. She could live with that.

* * * *

taglist! @ladyblanche :)

[ruubles]

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing , Alcohol , Suggestive Themes , Gore , Blood, Violence

Word Count: 6790

Y/N) stood at the back of the gazebo, her body leaned atop the white wooden rail as she stared out across the well maintained garden. Flowers twisted in the moonlight and swayed in the gentle breeze, rose bushes stood without a branch out of place and recently pruned, and the fountain brought a continuous stream of sound. These little details had been the focus of her attention, the only thing dragging her mind away from the bodiless head sitting on the ground behind her.

She hadn’t brought herself to do anything with it yet, leaving it there in hopes that maybe it was just a hallucination, but the longer she stood the more the realization came crashing down. In her time under the Port Mafia she’d seen, and done, horrible things that were considerably worse than this. Even so, she was shocked that someone would risk their life to get the corpse only to leave its head behind as a warning. 

That’s what this was. A warning.

A warning to stay away. A warning to not track these people down. Whoever had been responsible for this murder was dangerous and they wanted the mafia to know that. They not only created a drug that could remove someone’s ability, but they went through all the trouble of tracking the victim down to keep this information from them. It was a basic strategy but well thought for this situation. As long as they left behind as little traceable evidence as possible then it would be near impossible to find the culprit.

“Fuck. That sure explains the missing body.” (Y/N) had lost herself in thoughts of the situation and hadn’t noticed Chuuya’s approach. She didn’t bother to turn around and listened as he approached her, his steps were shallow light as he took the longest route around the head. After a moment she felt him beside her, his arms crossed and laid on the railing. “You should have told me you found something, I was still searching the house!”

He huffed a little as he spoke, eyes focused ahead just as hers were. “Sorry, I guess I got caught up thinking about something. I haven’t had a partner in quite some time.”

“Tch. You don’t have to apologize, I’m not used to a partner either. Last time I had one, it was that shitty Dazai.” 

(Y/N) chuckled, her grim face shifting to one with a slight smile. She shook her head at the mention of the suicidal man, he was quite the topic in the Port Mafia, even after he abandoned them. “I was never that close with Dazai, but I knew of him through a friend. It would seem many people perceive him in different ways.”

“Many people don’t like him, and I couldn’t agree with those people more.” Chuuya turned to look at (Y/N), finally acknowledging that she had at some point turned to face him. Her (E/C) eyes met his and he could see that glint in them, not the one of seriousness from this morning, but the playfulness he’d seen in her last night.

“Who are you Chuuya Nakahara?”

The question was a strange question, similar to the ones he’d been asked when they first met only twenty-four hours before. “That’s a dumb question for someone Mori spoke so highly of.”

“I’m no fool Chuuya Nakahara, I’ve looked into the case files of almost every high ranking member of the Port Mafia. You are the person with the least amount of information. I was able to get more from Mori’s own public file than your private one.” (Y/N) backed away from the ledge and took a few steps away from Chuuya, carefully watching her movements to stay a good distance from the head. “I’m working with someone who I know nothing about. Mori knows you’re loyal to him, but I have no reason to believe that you wouldn’t shoot me if the opportunity provided itself.”

“Now why would I do that? Mori made you my partner, and I’m not going to disobey a direct order from him.” Chuuya scoffed and turned to face her. “Plus you’re one to talk about minimal information when your file doesn’t exist. I may not be the most strategic person in this mafia, but I do like knowing who I’m dealing with.”

“It would seem we’ve hit a roadblock then. My files, both public and private, were burned upon request and I assume the missing information from yours is also ash.” (Y/N) stepped towards Chuuya, their eyes locked in a challenge with one another. Her eyes changed rapidly to a dark piercing gaze, as if the trust she’d gained for him had drained at a rapid pace. “I have no doubt that our partnership will be beneficial in this case, but if neither of us trust one another then I see no reason for us to be friends.”

~x~

Chuuya’s eyes remained glued to the road ahead, his ears honed in on the quiet breathing of the seat diagonal to his own. If he focused he could see the faint outline of a person in his peripheral vision, but their body still remained shrouded in darkness. (Y/N) had chosen to sit in the back of his car, to the seat opposite of her was a bloody bag securely buckled down. 

They hadn’t spoken even a word after their show down in the gazebo, perhaps newfound apprehension had been built between both parties. Few people knew of Chuuya’s past, but he understood that the mystery made any relations he had with another person difficult. For all (Y/N) knew he was a treacherous fiend that would stab her at moments notice. Though that statement applied for him as well, he had done his digging in the hours before he’d seen her standing alone outside and the stories of her did not disappoint.

The woman without a face, that was the constant whenever they mentioned her. He hadn’t a clue what it meant but whatever it was made her dangerous. Far more than most people of the mafia. Tidbits of information wormed their way into his mind, some of which were likely untrue, but the more he learned the less he really knew. From what he’d been told she’d joined the mafia at a fairly young age, just a little bit before the Dragon’s Head Conflict, and during the conflict was when her true strength had come to light. Mori promoted her just after the whole fight started, but he told no one but Daza and a few people who knew of her.

“Tomorrow I propose we go to the scene of the fight. We could likely find some bullet casings or leftover blood. It could be a lead for where to find these people.” Chuuya could see in his eyes that even though she was speaking to him, she hadn’t turned away from the window. 

“We could go in the morning and-”

“Afternoon.” She cut him off. “I have business to attend tomorrow morning and I would much rather not be forced to reschedule. My apologies for cutting you off, but please continue.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes but made no comment on her rude interruption. “Then we can meet up tomorrow afternoon; Do you need a ride?”

(Y/N) hummed to herself for a moment before answering him. “If it isn’t too much trouble. My business is at a bakery on Southwest Street: Kim’s Kreamy Delights. They have some of the best sweets I’ve ever tried, I’m a big fan of their Dasik, but Mrs.Kim only makes them on Lunar New Year. When it’s not around that time, I usually get a kkwabaegi.”

“You seem well acquainted with sweet treats, I assume you know that they aren’t healthy.” Chuuya’s comment was somewhat judgmental, but it seemed to fly over (Y/N)’s head. Her mind still focused on the warm treats she would get whenever she was in town.

“I know that, but I do things for the enjoyment of myself. We are members of a mafia Chuuya, I’ve never expected to live a long life, nor a happy one. If you wish to judge then do so but I will not be changing my habits based on your criticism.” He had thought she hadn’t noticed the backhanded rudeness he’d displayed but it seems as though she had. 

There was a strange silence that fluttered through the air of the car as the light of the city finally made its way through the car's windows. Slowly the trees on the outer rim of the city turned to buildings and the streetlamps illuminated the faces, every post passing by in a fleeting second before another one replaced the eerie orange light. Chuuya’s car sped down the street, not one to abide by normal street laws, and every sharp turn brought them closer to the mafia’s headquarters. 

After a couple of minutes he pulled up in front of the towering building, its floors spiralling upwards into the stars. Several windows could be seen alive with a blazing light, not a strange sight considering many of the mafia’s business matters occurred during this time of night. Usually Chuuya would be in there monitoring what went on in every crevice of that building, but instead he was heading home to an empty apartment where he’d be receiving regularly spaced messages updating him on what was going on. It had been Mori’s order for him to get some rest, but the work of a mafia member was never done when night fell.

“Are you sure I can’t drop you off at the place you’re staying at? I don’t mind driving a little further.” Chuuya had extended his offer not because he was kind, but because Mori had been clear that someone should be looking out for this woman. He’d gone as far as assigning Hirotsu to monitor her, there had to be a reason he’d want someone of such importance to watch out for someone as capable as an executive.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you for the offer. There’s some papers I want to take a look at before going to my residence.” (Y/N) opened the door of the car, bringing both her legs out onto the sidewalk with a gentle click of her heels. She hesitated before turning back around. Her hand latched onto the top of the sheet that they had used as a handle and dragged the head towards her. “I truly am sorry for my words earlier. One of my bad habits is trying to forget my past, and I let that get to me. If it’s okay, I would like to take back my rude words.”

That was surprising. In the garden, (Y/N) had been so serious and gave off the same feeling that Mori gave off whenever someone questioned his authority. She was authoritative when she spoke of her burned files and her going back on her word of their relationship being nothing more than partners was something he hadn't expected. Thirty minutes ago he’d fully been prepared for her to be just another person he sees at work, but yet here she was apologizing. Every time they spoke it was like talking to another person, but this is the one who he’d met that had no apprehensions brought about by their job; This was the woman who was behind the mask of the mafia.

“I’m not one for friends.” (Y/N) had tried to hide the slight slump of her shoulders at his words, but he noticed the slight change before she stepped out of his car. She closed the door without turning around and began to walk towards the building's entrance. Chuuya rolled the window down and called out. “But I would like to try one of those kkwabaegi you were telling me about.”

She stopped her motions and turned to face him with the smallest of smiles on her face. “You butchered that name.”

“Oh shut up!” He snapped before rolling up the window and speeding off. (Y/N) watched as his car went down the street and eventually turned the corner. Her (E/C) bleary with a tiredness she’d held for so long. They were far from friends, but in the mafia did anyone really have a friend? A life like theirs was not made for relationships greater than the ones they formed at work and that was a fact (Y/N) had learned a long time ago. She didn’t expect anything from Chuuya, but she hoped that maybe when this was all over that there might be someone who wants her to stick around.

“So are you enjoying your new partner?” The voice was deep and sudden, there had been no one around moments before. (Y/N) showed no surprise of this person's newfound presence; She had known the moment he had appeared behind her. “The kids aren’t mad, but they are expecting you to take them out for ice cream. You’d better not disappoint them or I’ll pour all your wine into a bush.”

“Oh come on Isaac, I may not be the most caring person in the world but I wouldn’t disappoint those kids. Not again.” (Y/N) turned to face her friend. Isaac stood with his head turned up as he let out a puff of air and watched as it turned white and then disappeared. He wore the same outfit he wore whenever he was bartending: A dark gray button up tucked into a pair of pitch black jeans, simple but with the added spice of five undone buttons to reveal a well sculpted body beneath. He was a person of habit. “Did you just finish a shift?”

“No? What gave you that idea?” They walked side by side to one another, Isaac’s hand buried in his pocket as they approached the building. 

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, a deadpan expression replacing the sly smile she’d worn moments before. “You cannot tell me that outfit is the extent of your closet.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Isaac snapped, hand pulled from his pocket as he balled his fingers into a fist. “I have better fashion than you Ms.I-Dress-Like-An-Cubicle-Worker.”

“Oh quit it, you’re acting so childish, Isaac.” (Y/N) shook her head and walked into the building, neither of the guards questioning her presence much. Her comrade followed her lead and stayed close as though fearful of being found for being out of place. “I thought better of you.”

“Oh shut it you hag, let’s just get this over with.”

~x~

“I doubt there’s anything left at the scene of the fight. Especially if you say it's a city owned warehouse.” Isaac sighed and fell back on his chair before continuing. “They’re easy to access and I doubt that someone willing to go through all the trouble of disposing the body wouldn’t clear that place out.”

Mori sat at his usual spot at the head of the table, silent as he listened to both (Y/N) and Isaac shoot ideas off one another. He seemed enthralled in his own thoughts as he considered a plan of action. They all sat close to one another, Mori at the head of his table with one of them sitting in a chair on either side of the table. So close there was no need for their voices to be raised and that meant that anyone outside would have a hard time listening in.

It was strange for someone so strong and hated like Mori to allow an outsider like Isaac to ever be near him, but after all Mori had done for them both he trusted them more than a lot of the members of the mafia. (Y/N) was his executive and by extension Isaac was loyal, though he would not hold his tongue around him like she would.

“(Y/N), you must have an assumption as to who is behind this. Please clarify who it is.” Mori wanted to hear all the information, even if it might be wrong.

“Is that really even a question, Ougai? You’ve had the same assumption considering you didn’t only bring me back here, but you called a meeting with my old partner.” (Y/N) was apprehensive to continue, her idea had a lot of backing and would likely be true. For now it was only that, an idea, but the more they investigate the closer she’ll get to the life she used to have. “I think it was them. That old man is smart and a drug like this isn’t far from something he’d do.”

Isaac gritted his teeth, trying to find an argument for why it wouldn’t be them. Anything to keep the idea of them coming back out of his mind. They’d spent so much effort to escape their past and join Mori that even a possibility of the past coming back to haunt them was pestilent. “There wasn’t anything left with the part of the body they left behind. It’s protocol to leave them with every single body, you know that.”

“Of course I do, but there are exceptions to that rule! Given a direct order from him you don’t have to-”

“And if it is absolutely impossible, I know.” Isaac cut her off to continue his idea. “Something like this, so large, the old man wouldn’t want to let anyone take credit for it. He wants people to know it's them so they’ll be afraid.”

“There were roses in her garden.”

“You said she had a garden full of flowers of all kinds.” He argued back, hand hitting the table a bit too harshly. “A couple of roses bushes doesn’t fucking matter!”

“Enough.” Mori interjected. He’d taken both Isaac and (Y/N) in at a young age, but they both had a tough time before he found them. They may not have been together these past few years but they are still better partners than any two people who ever graced the mafia. Above all Mori sought to keep things neutral between them both so that they wouldn’t say anything they’d regret when things calmed down. “We have to think rationally and take a moment to talk it over. Neither of you are foolish, I’ve seen the things you can accomplish together but tensions are high right now. For now we assume it’s  one of the recent organizations who have stood against us.”

It was silent for a moment as the pair thought things over. They’d lived a long life with shared pains but they both had managed to come out better for it. Isaac was raising five kids and smiled everyday as though it were his last, on the other hand (Y/N) buried herself in work and drowned herself with expensive delicacies to erase it all. They were like family and neither of them would blame the other for how things went after Oda’s death.

“If it’s not?” Isaac’s voice was low and gravelly as though he were on the verge of tears. It was weak and pitiful, but it explained exactly how they were feeling. “What if it is them, Mori? Do we fight them? We won’t win that.”

“It isn’t them.” (Y/N) cut in before Mori could say a word. “It can’t be. We went through so much to slaughter them during the Dragon’s Head Conflict. The numbers don’t lie, nearly every branch was pruned because of us. To come back now, and with enough people to even consider facing the Port Mafia, is impossible.”

Isaac slid his chair back and stood up, dark eyes more gloomy than they were glossy. “You seem to forget (Y/N), pruning is done to help a plant grow.”

~x~

Chuuya looked from his phone to the fancy hotel he’d parked across the street from. His eyes held hesitation as he scanned across the messages on his device one final time. Part of him wanted to ignore the messages and just go home, but doing this had become a ritual. A guilty pleasure that helped calm his riled nerves.

‘I don’t have work tonight if you want to drop by our special spot.’

‘C’mon Chuuya, at least let me know if you’re going to show up. I need to know if I should open the champagne sooner rather than later.’

‘Fine. I’ll be waiting, but until then let me leave you with a special present.”

‘Attachment: 1 Image’

Chuuya’s eyes scanned across the image once again, to say it was scandalous was an understatement. There was no face presented in the image, instead the picture captured a woman’s body adorned in a set of elegant hand-woven red lace lingerie. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the outfit considering he’d been the one to take it off her many times before.

Their relationship was nothing more than a late at night call whenever they needed to relieve some stress. Neither of them knew much of the other, their names had come the first night they’d grabbed a drink and their sexual desires came soon after. Though there were a few things he noticed: Her schedule was not linear, he’d get spontaneous messages throughout the month asking if he were free. Most of the time he could clear just a bit of time and make his way here to meet with her for a few hours.

They’d been doing this for months at this point and he still couldn’t wrap his head around the stupidity of his actions. Everytime he said he would end things off and never see her again, then as though he were wrapped around her finger he would be back here: Car parked in the same spot as always and his route to the room the same. A member of the mafia took a risk two or three times a month to visit a woman whose life he hadn’t a clue of.

Using his memory, Chuuya made his way through the lobby, passing by a clerk who offered a knowing nod in his direction. It was the same thing time after time but that familiarity was something he clung to. No one questioned him. No one asked why he did something. No one looked to him for answers. It was the opposite of what he did for work, but it was so much more freeing. 

Taking the elevator up, Chuuya watched as the red numbers changed, going up one by one until finally the number fifteen. One final chime echoed through the metal cage and the doors slid open into a long spiraling hallway. Three steps out of the elevator, three doors to the right, and on his left. That path he’d memorized after his third meeting with this strange woman.

With a deep breath Chuuya tried to prepare himself to end this debacle that could become scurrilous if things were to go wrong. He opened the door and slid into the room quietly as though trying to go unnoticed. The sound of a running shwoer gently swayed throughout the room and he knew that she was getting ready for what she presumed to be his imminent arrival. He slid off his cape and hung it on the coat rack besides the door, his hat following suit.

The water shut off and a voice called out to him from somewhere beyond sight. “Oh Chuuya~”

Her voice was sweet as it called, drawing out the a at the end of his name to grab his attention. Getting the message he walked from the main room into the small, but still fairly large, bedroom. There she stood, body wrapped in a white towel that barely covered the most private portions of her body. 

Alberta Einstein. She was a beauty to behold; her almond shaped eyes holding the deepest most dark irises you might ever see as if they were shadows coming to life with no light reflecting off of them. Long  white hair would usually be flowing down her back and sway gently every time she took a step. Her figure was lean but she seemed to have curves in places that would make any man fall in a matter of moments. Now, standing bare in a bath towel, she was ravishing. Droplets of water dripping from her body and onto the floor, running from her neck down to her towel, and more littering the floor of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t sure you would show.” Her feet sunk into the carpet as she walked towards Chuuya, imprints of water marking her chosen pathway. Once close enough, her hand danced around his top button before easily sliding it undone. Slowly she moved to the second button and slowly began to undo it as well, but she hesitated. “Something wrong?”

Her eyes danced up to meet his, a shade so dark that his light blue eyes could never fathom their depths. “We should stop this.”

“You’re quite right, Chuuya. This relationship is going no where and it never will: We’ve been having casual sex for months but neither of us have caught an ounce of feelings.” She leaned into his lips, heat fanning across his face as she spoke, still continuing to fiddle with his buttons. “But isn’t that the fun part, my dearest Nakahara? Life isn’t about love even if people wish it was; It’s about enjoying yourself so much that you can’t possibly find it in your soul to frown.”

She leaned in and finally met his lips in the softest most gentle kiss she’d ever given to him. Her lips were warm as she pressed her body flush against his. With quick hands she undid the buttons at a much faster pace than the one she’d set before. Chuuya knew better than to let her do this once again but he quickly melted into her touch. Their lips entwined with one another as her mouth parted to let a gentle moan escape.

“I must say your sexual prowess surprises me. For such a short man you truly are skilled in bed.” She taunted his height, attempting to mask it with a compliment. They’d played this game time and time before.

“Tch. Same as always Ally, crude and judgemental so much so that you can’t even acknowledge your own shortcomings.” He moved from her lips to just under her ear, teeth grazing against her earlobe and sending a shudder down and throughout her body. “Last time we were together I specifically remember you getting so worked up that you could barely beg for more.”

She smirked and gulped down a large portion of air. Ally was not nervous, it was apparent on her face, instead she was excited. “That’s because I’m not a beggar.”

Chuuya had a response gliding across his tongue but before it could come out the incessant ringing of a phone bleared through the room. Ally let out an audible groan and pushed Chuuya away, hand lingering on his unbuttoned shirt for just a bit too long. Part of him wanted to pull her back but then he reasoned with himself and realized that his wish of ending things could still come true. With the interference of an outsider he had caught the slipup he’d made many times before.

“What the hell do you want, Thomas?” Ally snapped through her phone, she paced back and forth as she listened to the person on the other line. After a moment she stopped dead in her tracks. “You really are useless without me. Fine, fine I didn’t mean it.”

She turned to Chuuya and gave that smile, the same one he’d often give her when his work called him away from the hotel room. Though this time he was pleasantly surprised by the situation. Furthering contact with someone so wrapped in mystery was not beneficial in any way. If anything it was dangerous and reckless. She meant nothing to him and that feeling was mutual, so neither of them had any real attachments to one another. It was best to end things here so that neither of them had too many hard feelings when things would inevitably go bad in a few more months. Casual sex and a freind with benefits was the closest he’d ever get to a real relationship given his line of work, but even that was something he hadn’t saught after much in his time.

“I was busy.” She growled into her phone before taking a deep breath and calming her nerves. After a moment her resolve and anger faded in one swift motion and she sighed. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, just wait for me in the meeting room okay?”

With a final goodbye she hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. She followed suit with her phone and fell onto the white bedding, face smashing against the soft comforter they would usually be tangled in by now. “This is for the best Alberta. I meant what I said. My job isn’t the most lenient and I don’t need distractions right now, so this is my final goodbye to you.”

She turned to look at him, watching as he redid the buttons she’d worked to undo. Turning over she spread her arms across the bed and closed her eyes. A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “That’s true, my job is also picking up pace right now. We have a big projecting starting and I’d hate to miss out on it because of an outside relationship. Perhaps when things settle down we could meet up again, relive the first we met.”

“That won’t be necessary, when I say final goodbye I mean it.” Her ears perked up and she sat up, realizing now that he had already left the room and slid on his jacket. She heard the door open and then once again his voice rang through her ears. “Find yourself someone who’s actually in love with you, okay? Someone who’s worth your time.”

With those final words, the door closed to the hotel room and she was left alone to her thoughts. Intrigued by the man who she’d enraptured by her beauty. She had no romantic feelings towards him, but she was quite sad that their days of booty calls would no longer be happening.

~x~

Chuuya walked through the halls of the Port Mafia’s building, against the order he’d been giving he returned to headquarters in hopes of catching Mori before he left. Though after travelling up to the top floor he’d come to the conclusion that his boss had already left. He’d likely have gone to get rest for the night or take Elise to do something better than sit around his office.

“Chuuya.” Kouyou’s appearance behind him was sudden, her steps quiet as ever as she approached with her usual long strides. Her dress swayed as she continued by his side. As usual she spoke and moved in a way so elegant that she resembled a goddess. “How is your evening? I could have sworn Mori told you to return to your residence.”

“It’s late Kouyou, you should’ve gone home hours ago.” Chuuya tried to divert the subject from his disobedience, but he knew that even so Kouyou would insist. She was a Port Mafia executive above all else but that did not mean she was heartless. It was fleeting comments that passed by ever so often that reminded him of this; She cared about him in a similar sense to how she cares for Kyouka. “Do you have any idea where Mori might be? It’s late but usually he wouldn’t have left by this time.”

“Last time I saw him, he was meeting with (Y/N) and that handsome young bartender. I always forget his name but he makes the most wonderful cocktails.” Her voice sounded nearly dreamy as she recalled the delicious drinks she’d enjoy ever so often. Kouyou was the type of person who could handle her liquor well, unlike himself, and he’d seen her drink a dozen fruity drinks without ever slurring a single word. It was honestly somewhat startling. “Though I do remember he stormed out and your partner followed close behind. They sounded as though they were having a heated discussion but I was too caught up in a phone call to hear much of what they said.”

“Isaac.” Chuuya said slowly , Kouyou perked up and turned to him with a soft questioning hum. “That’s his name. Why would Mori want to meet with a random bartender? I thought (Y/N) said she was going home.”

The woman next to him chuckled, she pressed the button to call the elevator before turning to him. “I have no clue why Mori would want to speak with that man but I assume he has a reason and we should not question him. As for (Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re getting along with her. You were quite opposed to your partnership during the meeting this morning.”

“Getting along isn’t the phrasing I’d use.” Chuuya grumbled, arms crossing as he turned to face the elevator instead of his mentor. “I don’t trust that woman. She’s hiding something and I’d rather not be staring down the barrel of a gun when I find out what it is.”

They fell into silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Chuuya wasn’t in the wrong for believing she was hiding something, no one who can switch their personality as quick as her is being genuine. Mori trusts her and that is abundantly clear but what isn’t is why he’d never heard of her. Another executive that no one knew of was strange to say the very least. For now he wouldn’t question her much, instead seeing what he can find out without her realizing he’s digging around for information.

Kouyou knew a little of (Y/N), Mori had told her some of the stories about the feats she’d completed during her time in Russia. She knew there was more to the story but if Mori had trust in her to stay loyal to them then it was not her place to question it. One thing was clear to her from the way that her boss spoke: (Y/N) was strong and she is not foolish, and keeping her hidden from everyone was a strategy of the finest creation. He hadn’t told her what his ability is but whatever it was it made her abnormally strong compared to a regular mafioso.

“Your accusation is likely true, she is hiding something from us but I believe that Mori knows exactly what it is. We’ve pledged our lives to the mafia which means we are to have faith in our boss.” Finally after what felt like minutes the elevator door dinged and began to open. “I have a strong feeling that you and your new partner aren’t nearly as different as you’d like to believe… Perhaps I’m just being foolish.”

“You really should be getting some rest, my dear (Y/N).” The voice of Mori coed from the elevator, his slender hands wrapped around her shoulders as he gave them a gentle squeeze. She tried to shrug him off but the further she got from his grasp the tighter his hold became. It was almost as though watching a father taking care of his young daughter, but below the surface they were hiding something. Chuuya and Kouyou had been so enraptured with their own conversation that they hadn’t bore witness to the quiet whisper Mori had slipped to (Y/N) before the doors were all the way open.

“Get off of me you old man!” She shouted, bringing her foot back on his before whirling around. Not noticing his presence, her back bumped against Chuuya’s chest. He stumbled a bit at the sudden added weight but his arms caught around her and steadied them both. Surprised, she turned to face her hero with an utterly sweet smile. “Oh? Hello Chuuya, I didn’t expect to see you again this evening. Did you not have plans to attend?”

Mori perked up at the mention of one of his executives, specifically the one he’d told to take the night off. “Plans fall through often, no big deal. I just thought I’d come to make sure that Mori had been given a full report on what we found.”

“There’s no need to worry Chuuya, (Y/N) has given me a full report and I have faith that your digging tomorrow will bring more information to light.” Mori straightened himself from the endearing man they’d seen moments ago. His voice had a cold demeanor as it always had when he spoke with them, though when he spoke with her it seemed he had a similar attitude to the one he used when communicating with Elise. “I have faith in the both of you to prove your worth as executives. May you prove my assumptions right that your partnership was not in vain, then perhaps I could be persuaded to give you both a raise befitting your work.”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched up Mori, her gaze travelling from his gloved hands up to his rigid smiling face. It was clear to her that he was faking every word and gesture as if hoping to give his two closest advisors a false sense of security. His whisper still rang in her ear, ‘For now, act as if our conversation with Isaac never happened. You are, and only are, an executive of the Port Mafia.’ The message was clear with what he wanted but the intent behind it was a mystery. Had he meant it as a form of comfort to remind her that her past was not to stop her from having a future, or was it a warning to keep up the act as a perfect mafia princess and play the diplomat role, perhaps it was neither and simply a reminder that her life has only ever been that of a pawn. Any way he went about saying it, there was obvious fabrication of joy in his face.

“Thank you, sir.” Chuuya took a low bow before his boss and Kouyou offered a small courtesy. “Though I would like to speak with you about a few things when you have the time.”

Mori looked from Chuuya to (Y/N) as though he were asking her what questions she’d brought about from Chuuya, but all she did was shrug in response. He would either ask about her past and her file or he would bring up the fact that their partnership was not in the best of graces. “I truly would love to speak with you about this Chuuya, but Elise has been waiting on me for hours! Tomorrow morning I should have a bit of free time if that’s okay.”

“That will be fine, thank you sir.”

“Now, as your boss, I must request that you all get some rest. Specifically you (Y/N). I know that bad habit of yours and I’d prefer it if it didn’t interfere with your work.” Mori’s words confused the two people who didn’t know much about her habits, but she understood it well enough. He had made a jab at her constant desire to work and the way she would stay awake until the point of utter exhaustion. It was a bad habit she’d had for a long time; But it was part of the reason she got so much work done. “Please do watch your phones in case there’s an emergency, but if there is not then enjoy your time off.”

Mori stalked away from the group and in the direction of his meeting room. “Well I should be going as well, I’ve got some place to be. May you both have a goodnight.” (Y/N) wasted no time in excusing herself from the situation, wanting nothing more than to find her way to a place she’d been meaning to visit since she returned to Yokohama.

“Do you need a ride?” Chuuya was not fond of (Y/N), and that feeling went both ways, but his partner had done nothing to wrong him yet. Until she did so, he would be kind and offer her a ride. Kouyou smiled to herself but used her fan to hide it; The gesture earned a glare from Chuuya. “I don’t mind, I’ve got a stop to make before I return to my apartment anyway.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer Chuuya.” (Y/N) stepped into the elevator and gave a small wave before the doors began to close and seal her away from them both. “Tomorrow afternoon, don’t forget okay?”

With that she was gone.