#ask anyone and they’ll tell you they fully believe the world will quiet down a whole lot when US imperialism finally falls

[sarroora]

Turn off the Super Bowl - it’s not important. Go open the news now.

I hope you all understand that Israel has begun attacking Rafah at night while people were asleep.

They are now attacking what few buildings still remain in the south, near the TENTS that contain nearly 2 MILLION starving Palestinians who were forced out of their homes because their city was LEVELLED. By the SAME people now bombing them.

Rafah is where the Zionazis ‘claimed’ is the ✌️ ‘safe zone’✌️ /wink wink for Palestinians (it never was. I warned people about believing this stupid lie for months). And although we were all telling you for months that it’s all a lie, and that Israel’s purpose of Oct 7 has ALWAYS been to erase every Palestinian, the West STILL SUPPORTS ISRAEL. They are STILL GIVING THEM WEAPONS AND MONEY.

Giving them all the resources they need to steal another people’s land. To level their city like the fucking Rumbling, then slowly and methodically kill of its population by locking them in a freezing, waterless desert with no food, water or basic amenities. Then speed it up by blowing up the people in tents. Starving, weakened, dehydrated people, many of which are just 10-year old orphans trying to keep their 5 and 3 and 2-year old siblings alive because every adult in their life is already dead.

This is a catastrophe beyond my comprehension. This is savagery and barbarity beyond nothing I’ve ever imagined. I pray every Zionazi dies a miserable, horrible death. I wish the same to their supporters.

[X]

[pearl-star]

A Nudge in the Right Direction

Summary: What if Adrien's high road advice wasn't the only way he helped Marinette? Sure he could wait for Lila to expose herself, but that didn't mean that he couldn't help speed up the process.

(Cross Posted on Ao3)

“Just take the high road and ignore her, Marinette. Lila will lie herself into a corner soon enough.”

Marinette looked at him, like she wanted to speak out but held herself back. Instead curling in slightly before nodding. Adrien worked to keep his perfect model smile on his lips even as he wanted to frown.

“And if she does anything else to you, like with trying to frame you or anything at all, let me know okay?”

She nodded again, biting her lip this time. He nearly narrowed his eyes at her action but refrained. She waved goodbye before walking away. Once she was out of sight, Adrien dropped his smile and frowned.

“Something happened.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.”

Plagg’s sarcasm was not needed, so Adrien grabbed some cheese and held it out for the kwami to take. He held it in his nubs, but didn’t eat it. Instead Plagg looked at him expectantly. 

“You’re not really gonna keep quiet about this, right? Lila only confronts people when no one else is around. She could easily save herself given how stupid the class has been so far.”

Adrien let out a dark chuckle, something the kwami only just started to get used to hearing as of late.

“Oh, she’ll expose herself eventually. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help along the way.”

Plagg gave him a look over, shrugged, swallowed the Camebert whole, before responding.

“Sometimes I worry that you and your cousin switched.”

Adrien sighed at the reminder of his family member. He and Felix had a strange relationship. With Felix’s dad dead, and Adrien’s own father not helping the already tense situation, he really couldn’t blame his cousin for acting out. Did he think what his cousin did was wrong? Yes. And Adrien will be keeping an eye out to ensure that his cousin had no chance of doing anything like that again in the future.

“Don’t compare me to him. At least I’m not taking my frustrations out on others.”

“The sculptor.” Plagg sing sung.

“I was being a hypocrite.”

“And you flirting with Ladybug?”

“To be fair I was both way too over excited and also didn’t know how normal crushes should be expressed. Plus I’ve toned it down. I can’t stop completely though or else she’ll think something is up. Remember when I actually listened to her and stopped calling her bugaboo? She brought baked goods and hot chocolate to patrol every day and continuously apologized to me. I tried to tell her that I was just listening to her but she still thought that I was mad at her.”

“Ladybugs,” Plagg sighed, “they’ll take on the weight of the world and refuse to let anyone else share the load if my black cats don’t stop them.” 

Adrien heard his phone dinged, letting him know that his bodyguard was waiting to pick him up, so he began to leave the school.

“I’m trying to do it slowly with her. But I think dealing with Lila will help both her and Marinette. I would ask Alya to see what actually happened, but since she fully believes Lila I don’t want her blaming and attacking Marinette.”

Whenever Marinette first called out Lila, Alya had been switching between giving Marinette the cold shoulder or insisting that she needed to get over her jealousy. He didn’t understand why Alya would think that Marinette was jealous of Lila of all people, but he couldn’t exactly ask her when he was expected to be nice to Lila. And nice he would be.

He smiled as he thought about his plan. It could backfire, but he was smart enough to know when to be careful. And the only person who could ruin it for him was Lila, and she would have to expose herself first. And if she tries to drag him down with her? Well, she would already be established as a liar by then anyways. 

He opened the limo door and sat down, looking out the window as his bodyguard began to drive off to his next photoshoot. Adrien smiled to himself. Yes. Who would think that he, sweet sunshine boy of Paris, could be capable of ruining someone’s life? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First step of his plan: figure out how to use Lila’s newest modeling gig to his advantage. Adrien honestly had no idea why his father decided to take on Lila as a model, but it was clear that she wasn’t the best at it. Okay she was straight up awful at it. She was too focused on hanging on him to actually listen to Vincent, and his photographer was getting frustrated. 

As easy as it would be to just continue down this path until he would eventually get akumatized, Adrien didn’t want that for the man. He was the one of the few photographers that Adrien enjoyed working with. And even if Vincent wasn’t his favorite, he shouldn’t just sit back and let someone get akumatized. 

So Adrien did what most people would expect him to do: he mediated .

“I just think that if Lila got more training then shoots would be quicker. If father is planning on keeping Lila on as a model, it would be best to improve her modeling now rather than later. I’m sure Lila will be fine going to a couple lessons a week to help gain those skills.”

He kept a small smile on his face as he looked at Nathalie. He knew that she probably didn’t like Lila all that much, considering the stunt that the girl pulled that caused both her and his bodyguard to get in trouble, so if Nathalie decided to increase Lila’s workload a bit extra then so be it. 

“I’ll bring the suggestion up to your father. I believe that there was already some consideration to prepare her for doing interviews for when the photos from her sessions get released.” 

Adrien mentally made a note to check when the photos would get released. Lila gaining more public attention, especially in the beauty world, would only aid him. 

“Thank you, Nathalie. I should go practice piano before my fencing practice. The last shoot ran into my usual practice time.”

Nathalie nodded as she tapped something into her tablet, and Adrien made his way to his room. Usually, unless he had a performance coming up, he just put on piano music on his phone and did something else, but he needed to stay in Nathalie's and his father’s good graces. No one could get suspicious of him, otherwise he would get locked down again. 

So he played. Starting with warm ups, then transitioning into some classical pieces while occasionally shifting into music from Kitty Section. He never got to go to performances, but Luka had given him all of the piano sheet music just in case. Luckily he was working on more traditional music when Nathalie knocked on the door.

“I spoke to your father.” She said as she walked into the room. “And he agreed with your idea to give Lila extra lessons. And since some of the recent photo sessions have been running into your other activities, you will not be helping Miss Rossi in these lessons. Your current activities are taking top priority. I will be sending her the plans later today once they are made.”

“Thank you Nathalie. And I can always give Lila quick tips while on set when needed.”

Nathalie nodded before making her way out of the room. Once the door was shut, Adrien smirked. Depending on how much trouble Lila is during those lessons, and how much Nathalie wants to be spiteful, this could keep her plenty distracted. It would also give her something to brag about at school, which will hopefully keep her attention away from Marinette. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks after the lessons got implemented, Adrien could tell that they were happening. To the untrained eye Lila looked perfectly normal. But on closer inspection, you could see the smudges where her concealer and setting powder were not applied properly to her eye bags. And the only lessons being done were on how to model, they haven’t even gotten to all the interview stuff yet.

Sure she had something to brag about, but it didn’t give her time to hang out after school. He didn’t know if Nathalie knew his friends’ schedules, but Lila’s lessons were all placed during the times when they would meet up. And the more Lila tried to get out of them or reschedule, the longer and more lessons there were. 

She was improving slightly. Oh, not in skills. She was still mediocre at best, but she didn’t hang on him as much or try to prolong shoots. She still hung on him, but Adrien guessed that Lila got told that the longer shoots ran on for, the more lessons she would have to do. Either way it saved him more time. Having to catch up on his lessons and homework as Chat Noir was hard enough. He really didn’t need prolonged photoshoots too.

The only downside was that Lila was getting frustrated. Despite her fake smiles and cheerful persona she put on during school, Adrien could see the cracks in her facade. He wouldn’t really care, Lila getting frustrated and snapping out would be a good thing, except that with Adrien paying more attention to her he noticed exactly how Lila was deciding to channel her frustrations. 

All it took was Marinette having a slight limp and claiming that she tripped, after Lila had left the classroom beforehand, and her reaction to Adrien asking if Lila did something to clue him in.

He frowned at the bluenette, not bothering to try and coax the truth out of her and instead being direct.

“Marinette, I can tell that she did something to you. I already know that she pushed you, but I would also like to know what she said to you.” Seeing how she seized up, he quickly added, “If you’re comfortable with telling me.” 

The pigtailed girl looked out from under her lashes and gave a small shrug. 

“I-I’m fine Adrien. Really, it’s… nothing.”

She lasted another ten seconds under the lie, as well as the stare he was giving her, before rubbing her arm and sighing. 

“I’m not comfortable with saying it.”

Adrien wanted to push more but refrained. Instead he chose to gently touch her shoulder and try to massage out her tension.

“I’m sorry that she hurt you. I’ll keep a closer eye on her and make sure she doesn’t do anything else. But please do let me know if something else happens, okay?” 

The look that Marinette gave him, like she was finally getting a breath of fresh air, made his stomach drop. The fact that a small promise like that made her look like he was gifting her the stars told him that whatever Lila said was bad. And Adrien, despite being a hero, was fully considering the petty way of handling things. 

“Thank you, Adrien. I really appreciate it. I promised my parents that I would help out at the bakery, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The blonde waved cheerfully as the girl departed. Once out of sight, he put on a devilish look and glanced down at his kwami who had popped out of his bag.

“So, Plagg, you were talking about ways to mess with Lila. Can you run those by me again?”

The crackle the miniature god gave was heard throughout the school, and no one knew that it was the sound of a death sentence. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Adrien walked into school all smiles. To the untrained eye, he looked perfectly like his normal self. Except, if someone really paid attention, you could see the slight glint in his eyes, as well as how his smile held an edge to it that he was fighting back behind his perfect demeanor. 

Marinette was already in the classroom as well, and she walked in with Alya which would be good for later. And later seemed to come sooner than expected. About five minutes after Marinette walked in, Lila walked in. It took all of Adrien’s acting gained over the years to keep a straight face.

Plagg’s little pranks, which he had green lit the day before, were already taking full effect. Lila looked like she went through a storm and just survived. Her hair was a frizzy mess, her makeup was barely hanging on, and her shoulders were tense with obvious stress. If Adrien had any sympathy left for her, he would wish her luck getting put together before someone posts a photo. However any cares he had left to give flew right out the window the moment she decided to go after Marinette. 

Adrien had half a mind to take the photo himself. And if it wasn’t for Chloe who snorted a laugh and whispered at Sabrina to post a pic, then he might have too. Instead Adrien played the oblivious boy who was raised to be a gentleman.

“Lila, what happened?”

“It was…” 

She drifted off, looking at Marinette and then him. He didn’t give her any glares or anything, merely blinking back. She would have to show her hand first. He wasn’t about to defend Marinette if Lila wasn’t accusing her, she could find an excuse for that. But it seemed like she had second thoughts.

“Nothing. Just a bad hair day.” 

Adrien was shocked that she didn’t try to blame Marinette somehow, but didn’t put his guard down. After all, she had taken her frustrations out on the bluenette just the day before. He’d need to keep both girls in his sights, and preferably have Nino or someone else with him. That way Lila can’t twist any narrative. 

Through the day, he kept his eye out, and he noticed a lot. He’d been only focused on keeping Lila away from Marinette, and thus usually kept his focus only on the liar. Looking at Marinette showed him things that he didn’t notice before. Like how Marinette no longer had lunch at school, or how she’d leave the group once Lila pops in and brings the attention onto her, or how she was always double checking her bag and where she was walking.

It was all tiny things that he never paid attention to before, but now with context painted a bigger picture. And that made him smile all the more when he checked his phone and noticed the photo that Chloe posted of Lila trending. The caption wasn’t too shabby either, and Adrien had to refrain from liking the post. He took that energy instead and used it to distract the class and make sure that none of them, especially Lila, checked their phones. 

So it was only at the end of the day, and when Lila shirked, that the photo was discovered by the rest of the class.

“How dare you post that photo! I demand that you take it down immediately!”

Lila’s outburst surprised the rest of the class, but when Alya glanced at Lila’s phone she immediately defended her.

“Lila’s right Chloe. You can’t just post things like that.”

“Oh, like I haven’t done worse. Maybe don’t have such an awful appearance when showing up to a public place. Besides, me taking it down would do nothing. It’s the internet. Nothing ever goes away. Have fun with that.”

Before anyone else could try to protest, the blond and Sabrina left. It was after they left that the rest of the class started to see the actual post. Adrien, having to act like he cared, moved to “comfort” Lila before pausing at his phone going off. He checked it and felt relieved. 

“Hey dude. What’s up?”

He tilted his phone so that Nino could see the message.

“Oh, that seems bad. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He waved goodbye, happy to see that Marinette had already slipped away from the classroom. Hopefully she was heading straight home. That didn’t mean that Lila couldn’t blame her for something even if she didn’t see Marinette, but at least it stopped her from being able to do something to Marinette directly. 

He walked straight outside and to the car. Nathalie was waiting for him inside, a tablet with his dad’s face already cued up.

“Good afternoon father. Is everything alright?”

“Your friend, Chloe, seems to have posted a photo of Lila.”

“People were talking about it at the end of class, but you texted me before I could see it for myself. Is there something wrong with it?”

“Yes, but don’t worry. Don’t comment on the photo, both in person and online. I’ll have things taken care of by tomorrow. For today she won’t be attending the photoshoot. We have another female model coming instead. Do not disappoint me.”

“Of course, father.”

And thank you for the free out. Adrien highly doubted that everything would be taken care of by tomorrow, Chloe would definitely make sure that there’s talk about it for at least a week. But the biggest plus was that he wouldn’t have to deal with her for this shoot, meaning that maybe he could actually work on homework and get to bed on time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As predicted, talk of the photo didn’t die down by the next day. In fact, more fuel was added to the fire, courtesy of the one and only Lila Rossi. At the same time that his father had been saying that things were under control, Lila had decided to take matters into her own hands by responding to Chloe’s post. 

One thing that’s important to remember is that Lila had only been receiving lessons on how to model, not how to conduct oneself online. As such, she didn’t know when to recognize bad press, and how to respond to it. 

Gossip sites, fan girls, and everyone else on the internet loved to tear famous people apart. They criticize them no matter what. As such, people would ignore many of the rumors and insults posted online. Responding would not only show people that you cared, but they could take what the original post said as being true. 

Lila responded to Chloe’s post like that of a teenage girl, and as such her attempt to deal with the situation fueled more fires than it put out. It also didn’t help that Lila had used her official model account to respond, which only shared it with more people. The social media team caught what she did and deleted the comment within five minutes of her posting, but the damage was done the second she hit post.

Lila didn’t show up to school the next day, not that much of a surprise. What was a surprise was that Adrien himself still went to school. He had assumed that his father would have put him on lockdown while he figured out what to do with the fires that were burning, after all there were photos of him with Lila at multiple places. But perhaps he thought that if things continued as normal that it would go away. Either way it saved Adrien the trouble of trying to sneak out of the mansion and to school.

All the rest of his classmates, sans Marinette, were already in the classroom with the majority looking at Chloe. The blonde didn’t seem to mind, smugly smiling at her phone. Alya, by far, looked the most put out. She had her tablet out and was furious typing on both that and her phone. Nino was sitting by her, trying to comfort her.

“Alya, what’s wrong?”

“Lila’s lied about everything.” Nino answered. “Some people started sending hate to the Ladyblog for the interviews Lila did.”

“I should have fact checked. Now I’m trying to do damage control.”

Adrien did feel sorry for Alya. When he was planning to take down Lila, he didn’t think that anyone else would be negatively affected. Of course, he didn’t have regrets on Lila getting dragged socially but he should have thought about how that would have affected his classmates. So Adrien decided to try and help out.

“Apologizing and taking down the interviews would be good. And while I don’t know exactly what the comments are saying, I’m guessing they’re saying to fact check right? Next post you do, make sure to include sources. That would probably help fend off those comments, but from my experience some people still like to troll.”

Alya did smile a little at that. Hopefully she’ll be able to learn from this and prevent something worse in the future. Just as the bell rang, Marinette ran into the classroom. 

“Sorry I’m late, Miss Bustier. I had to help my parents fill out-”

The excuse immediately got interrupted by the rest of the class springing up and practically tackling the girl in apologies. Marinette seemed confused before realization slowly crossed her face as she picked out her classmates' words as they overlapped one another. Bluebell eyes locked on to green ones, but Adrien didn’t try to approach her. He wanted to speak to her, but the things he wanted to say couldn’t get back to his father. 

So it was only four classes later, when Adrien broke off from Nino to exchange books and Marinette managed to sneak away from Alya that he got to talk to her.

“I told you. Her lies would come out eventually.”

Marinette gave him a look that he wasn’t used to. Usually there would be a blush covering her face, her eyes wouldn’t be able to look at him for longer than a moment, and she would be jumpy. While there was a light blush on her cheeks, her posture was perfect and her expression was a bit playful.

“And this all happened on its own? No one did anything to speed this up?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, I guess Chloe did the work. After all, she did post that picture which caused things to roll down hill for the better.”

“Adrien, I know that you did more than you let on.” Her expression shifted a little more into what he was used to seeing. “I just wanted to say thank you. You trusted me the whole time, and you kept your promise. Let me know if there’s any way to thank you.”

Seeing as she already knew the truth, he decided to jump on her offer.

“Actually there is one thing. Do you think you could… keep me out of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Please don’t tell anyone that I was involved in this, both about knowing about Lila’s lies beforehand and me helping to get her exposed. I don’t want to even imagine how mad my father would be if he found out about the latter.”

Marinette opened her mouth, concern clear in her eyes, but she held herself back. It was for the best, honestly. His homelife was no one’s concern.

“Of course. And if you ever need anything, let me know.”

He nodded, although he suspected that he wouldn’t take her up on the offer. Marinette was busy enough already, and her keeping this all a secret was the best thing she could do for him. She looked back one last time before dipping out of the locker room. Plagg emerged moments later. 

“Well, looks like you did it kid. The liar’s gone and your princess will be fine.”

“Not yet.”

The kwmai’s smug smile was wiped off, surprised at the statement. 

“What do you mean?”

Adrien exchanged his books before walking back to the classroom.

“Just because Lila got exposed doesn’t mean that she won’t hurt Marinette again. I need to make sure that she isn’t in Paris.” A notification on his phone had him pausing in place. Once he looked down at it, he smiled. “And I have a feeling I know exactly how to do that. Plagg, claws out.”

One fast Lila-akuma take down, and a sneaky little live stream from his staff, caused Lila to be outed in a much worse way. He watched as she got dragged off in handcuffs, screaming nonsense about diplomatic immunity. Ladybug stood by him, and although she looked put together on the outside he could tell she was shaken up.

It did make sense though. He didn’t expect Lila to just admit that she’s been working with Hawkmoth willingly to them. 

“Don’t worry, Ladybug, the police can handle this.”

“I knew that she hated us… but working with Hawkmoth?”

“She admitted it herself. Besides, she’ll get escorted out of Paris and can’t work with him anymore.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. What if Hawkmoth has other allies that we don’t even know about?”

Is that seriously what she was worrying over?

“He does. We know about Mayura, and there might be another person or two that’s helping him in the background. However it doesn’t really matter to us yet. We don’t tell people about magic or the miraculous since it could get back to Hawkmoth anyways, so we don’t have to change anything.”

“But what if people try to say that others are working for Hawkmoth?”

“There would have already been rumors about that. I think the real thing we should be worried about is if Lila’s mom really is an Italian diplomat. If so, then there’s gonna be political trouble.”

Not that it was really an issue, since Adrien did do his research. No one in Lila’s family was a part of the government. Her mother was just someone who worked in a company that opened up a branch in Paris, which was why they traveled. He would have approached things much differently otherwise.

“I didn’t think about that.” Ladybug muttered, flipping open her yoyo and typing something on it. After a minute she flipped it shut. “I don’t see anything on the official Italian embassy site but…”

“Then it should be fine. Lila probably made up what her mom’s job was to make her stories seem legit and get away with more things. The police will clear up any rumors about that later. For now we should get going.”

They had taken turns to recharged earlier, so that Lila wouldn’t be let out of their sight, but they did have to get back to their civilian lives. Not like it mattered much for him. School was over the moment the alert went out, and his father and Nathalie will be too busy with the mess Lila caused to worry about him. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you at patrol tomorrow unless another akuma pops up.”

“Sounds good.”

Chat made his way over the rooftops before dropping down and hiding in the alleyway near the school. He detransformed and had a piece of camembert ready.

“Now Marinette’s safe.”

“Is that really the first thing you’re gonna say? There’s nothing else that you think you should be concerned about?”

“You mean with Lila being a willing accomplice of Hawkmoth? Yeah, I mean it’s messed up but it didn’t surprise me. I guess I feel a bit bad for her mom.”

“I’m talking about yourself, kid. Your father decided to take Lila on as a model. You don’t think Lila being outed as an accomplice of a supervillain will come back to bite you in the butt?”

Why was everyone worrying about the wrong things? Adrien’s seen the posts and comments. He’s seen as not just a hot model, but also a victim. Yes, he knew what Lila was doing to him was sexual harrashment and yes, some of his fans knew that as well. If any backlash falls onto the brand because of Lila, then it would fall directly onto his dad. 

“I’ll be fine. I can handle anything that happens.”

He’s been doing it all his life, going through the motions and trying to make due while not letting others know what he’s actually thinking. It’s what gets him through the days spent in the mansion, it will get him through the final couple years that he’s trapped there until he turns eighteen. 

But Plagg didn’t know all that. Adrien hadn’t found a time or a need to tell his kwami that, so Plagg didn’t know how capable he could truly be. 

“You should try accepting help sometimes. I’m sure pigtails wasn’t just talking nonsense when she offered to help you earlier.”

But for as much as Plagg didn’t know about him, he did know a lot of other things. Things that Adrien didn’t like to focus on.

“If anything goes bad, then I’ll reach out to her.”

It was enough to appease the kwami, and Adrien walked out of the alley way and back through the school via the side entrance so that his bodyguard wouldn’t realize that he’d been anywhere else. Once he looped around and got inside the car, he checked his phone. 

So far the rumors about Lila being a daughter of a diplomat got squashed, and his father had released a public statement about not knowing all of Lila’s dealings and taking extra precaution for all his employees. There’d probably be more issues to deal with in the future, but for now all was well. All Lila needed was a little helping hand to push her off the cliff that she climbed up herself. 

[stoneworldsimp]

what’s mine is not yours —a request

platonic senku x reader

warnings: swearing, anxiety, talk of insecurities and worries, gender dysphoria

your name!

your name!

YOUR NAME!

your hands slapped to your ears, eyes shut tight. i can’t take this so early in the morning.

the voices from your dream had lingered longer than you would have liked. it reminded you it was time to face another day, to endure another long long day and night of hearing the wrong things.

maybe if i went and lived on my own again…i wouldn’t have to deal with it—no. senku needs me. he needs me…what does he need me for again? you rolled onto your stomach; your pillow rustled as you flopped it on top of your head. he doesn’t need me. i’d rather be lonely than hear everyone say some bullshit about me.

everyone in the village knew you as a miss. yuzuriha made you more neutral clothes upon request, but everyone assumed you were tomboyish. luckily, no one read more into it; it was nice to dress comfortably, but it was like no one else understood. why were they still calling you a girl? and the older folks, you knew they meant well! but you couldn’t help but feel like their constant “sweet girl”s were making fun of you at this point.

i can’t do it, i can’t do it, they’re making fun of me right now, as i think. as i exist!

you felt a tear trickle down the side of your nose.

oh, you’re kidding. crying? again? is this—

a knock on your door halted your thoughts; you quickly flipped back and sat up in your bed on the ground of your hut, and wiped your face quickly. you lightly slapped your cheeks to stop yourself from continuing crying.

“yeah.”

“it’s me. can i come in?”

senku’s voice brought some sort of relief; personally you felt it was better for him to come in at such a time than anyone else.

you took a deep breath. “sure, but i just woke up. i’m staying under my blanket.”

senku laughed behind the door. a small shove was made and it opened, revealing a quite chipper senku. he liked to come early in the morning when the rest of the village was quiet.

his smirk faltered once he saw your face. you believed you hid your crying well; you didn’t think to check your red eyes or stinging cheeks.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his words much gentler than when he asked to come in.

damn. how could i not realize i was so obvious?

with a deep breath, you whispered, “senku.. we’re pretty good friends, right?”

he snickered. “of course we are, way more than that asshole gen.”

his voice was closer. you laughed as well, and wiped your eyes clear. he slowly walked over and sat down on the floor next to you. senku was looking at you, really looking at you; it was intense, almost if he was making sure his closeness or anything about his presence wasn’t bothering you.

“okay…i’m about to say a lot of stuff. let me know if you need me to explain more, or if i’m talking too much. or—“

your words halted as senku put a hand on your shoulder, a smile light on his face. “all ears.”

you smiled back softly. “okay. so—back in..our time,”you gestured between the two of you with your hands, “i told my family and friends i was, uhm… nonbinary. like i don’t feel male or female, i use they/them pronouns; all that good stuff. still feel that way now. and, for quite some time, they didn’t believe me. not in a direct ‘you’re lying’ way, but more of ‘i don’t understand it therefore you shouldn’t understand it’ type of thing. i got a lot of shit from people who weren’t my friends, too. but with my friends’ support and getting more confidence after coming out, my parents were able to kinda see it. but yeah, it took quite some time. probably like.. eight months? even then, i had to remind them constantly, ‘not a daughter. please don’t call me she or he. please don’t call me a woman.’ but we were getting there. and right when we got petrified, right when it happened, i saw the look on my mom’s face.

“we were talking about me and my identity and it was like something had clicked in her brain. like, she knew exactly what i meant and how i felt when i said what it meant to be nonbinary. i don’t even remember what i said specifically, but i remember her expression as if she were standing in front of me right now. i was so hopeful i’d see her again, her expression got me through my petrification and even helped me break out of it. but of COURSE, i didn’t ever see her again after i woke up. and then i almost lost my own sense of self after being by myself for probably a year.. i was under the assumption i’d never meet another person again, so when i did run into your village—i had this gross feeling of dread. and i realized it was the same feeling that basically lived inside of me before i came out.”

you sat up straighter and looked away from senku. “it’s like, i have to rebuild my identity all over again. people always say you shouldn’t care about what other people say, but i can’t help it. i’m a sensitive person. i get hurt easily, no matter how hard i try to thicken my skin. they all, they all just use ‘she’ and ‘her’ and ‘that girl’ so often, it feels like they’re making fun of me, like they’re constantly telling me i’m not who i say i am. and i can’t tell them senku, being nonbinary was confusing for so many people in our time, i hardly believe they’ll understand it now. sure, my parents were fine, but it took a while before they got it. i can only imagine how long it’ll take for everyone here.”

senku was quiet. have you over explained yourself? was it too overbearing? in all honesty you’d only been good friends with senku a short while; you should have waited at least a little bit longer before letting him in on something so personal—

“it all, it all kind of makes sense now.”

huh?! “what?”

“what you told me, i think i get it now.”

you gave him a look up and down. it was possible, but you didn’t think there was much of a chance that senku would be so..cool with it. not right away. you expected some form of silent treatment for at least a day or two, so he could collect his own thoughts.

“i’m gonna say something, and i need you to listen. yeah?”

you stared at him like your brain short-circuited. what the fuck is he gonna say to me.. oh god, he doesn’t wanna be friends anymore. but he’ll be too nice to kick me out of the village. but it is his village—

“hey, hey…are you with me?” you both sat facing each other now, and his hands rested on your shoulders.

just hear him out. “yeah. all ears.”

he smoothed your shoulders with his thumb. “you’re just as valid as everyone out there. i know you’re scared, but believe me when i say they will not be mocking you in any way. sure, it might take a while for them to understand, but theyre not going to give up just because they dont get something right away. it took me a few months to fully convince this village i could help them, and even then, there were still a few who didn’t fully understand the experiments and contraptions i made until a while later. i know that isn’t the same as your situation… but what i’m trying to say is that they will try their best to know you, the real you. they aren’t going to mock you; if anything, they’ll have lots of questions to ask you.

“also, you have me, you have gen to help out in case you don’t have the capacity to answer everything yourself. i’ve a few things about gender before the stone world, and gen definitely knows a lot of things that are relevant to it as well.

“everyone here… they’re all so eager to learn, i highly doubt they’ll be unaccepting. they’ll be curious. and they’ll be happy you’re letting them in on something that is so important.”

tears had made their way down your face and on your clothes halfway through his mini-monologue; you didn’t notice him continuously wiping them away until he was finished. “it’s going to be okay. trust me.”

with a quiet sob, you pushed yourself into his arms for a hug.

“thank you.”

you knew he wasn’t particularly one for any type of physical contact, but he gladly accepted. for the occasion, he thought. his arms slowly wrapped around your slightly shaking body as you tried to calm down. neither of you spoke for a few minutes; only your soft sniffles were heard in the hut.

“senku, i think that was the most i’ve heard you talk about something that wasn’t directly related to science,” you laughed into his neck.

he laughed back. “i had a lot saved, since there were moments i could tell you were kind of uncomfortable. i didn’t want to force you into talking about it either, so i just waited. tried to figure out what i was going to say. it had to be good.. you are one of my closest friends, after all.”

both of you embraced each other a little tighter. “i hope all of this helped, i want you to live here with none of those worries. especially after so many months of having it bottled inside.”

you nodded in response.

today.. today will be the day i tell everyone not to use what they used to call me; that won’t do at all anymore.

today, i’ll tell everyone my name.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader

Here's a little something I cooked up. Not sure what I want to do with it, but it was bugging me to be written. For better or worse.

This is a little Helmut Zemo/Female Reader moment. It has Sam and Bucky too. It's not fully developed, but hopefully you all can enjoy it for what it is.

OOOOO

You were in Germany when you got the call from Sam. He needed help locating the Flag-Smashers, and was hoping you could offer some assistance.

He just happened to call at the perfect time, because as it turns out, the person you went to visit was no longer around. So, since you had essentially made a trip across the ocean for nothing; you figured, why not? Might as well make something of your travels abroad and not make it a total loss.

Sam gave instructions to meet him at a residence in Riga, Latvia. He mentioned very little other than that. Technically though, that wasn't entirely his fault. You're pretty sure he intended to provide more information, but Bucky was shouting, "Hellos.", "You've been missed!", and her personal favorite, an exasperated, "Please save me from my tormentor."

After Bucky's outburst, Sam had seemed to have forgotten about you on the phone; so you were just listening to constant bickering in the background. All you could do was shake your head and laugh at this point. Truly, Earth's greatest defenders were simply children at times.

It was good to hear their laughs. It had been too long and the world was still recovering.

We all were.

Bucky, Sam, and you all disappeared when Thanos snapped his fingers, wiping out half the universe. When you all returned, there was love and there was loss all around, but it bonded the three of you in a friendship deeper than any of you could imagine.

Okay, perhaps, that's a slight exaggeration. You became extremely good friends with both James and Sam; however, the two of them are a different story altogether. They won't admit to their friendship, but you know they'll both come around one day. They're just being stubborn idiots. God, she missed those two guys. It's been months since she had laid eyes either one of them.

So, here you are, standing right out front the door Sam gave instructions to meet at.

You fiddled with the arm of the backpack strapped across your chest. You didn't think you'd be this nervous, but a combination of excitement and adrenaline had caused you to be a bit jumpy. You tried to shrug it off as you raised your hand to knock on the door.

Not even 10 seconds after you knocked on the door you heard the shuffle of footsteps, accompanied with the ever present response of, "I got it."

Only the footsteps halted abruptly and muffled discussions were faintly heard through the door. You couldn't make out what was being said, only that no further movement had been made to answer the door.

I swear to God, if they are simply having an argument about who gets to open the door, I am going to murder them both on the spot.

You were about to knock on the door again a bit more insistently, but you never got the chance as the door abruptly swung open to reveal Bucky.

As you stared back at one another, you couldn't help but noticed his tense appearance, which is not all that unusual for him, but it was a more strained posture. You assumed it had something to do with whatever was being talked about just moments prior to answering the door.

It couldn't have been too serious because seconds later he dropped all pretense and gave you a heartfelt smile before sweeping you up in his arms for a hug.

He all but dragged you inside, it only caused you to chuckle at his enthusiasm. Yeah, you had missed him a lot.

The hug continued to linger on, and you could hear the door behind you close. You were about to motion to Bucky to release you from his hold when you heard Sam pipe in highly amused, "Buck, give her some room to breath."

You could feel the glare James was giving Sam, but he did let you go eventually.

Upon the release from your hug, the sleeves of your blue hoodie had drifted past your hands; you pushed them up a bit where you could grab James's hand and squeeze it in silent thanks.

After letting go of Bucky, you turned around to face Sam, shaking your head and grinning at him with delight, "Never a dull moment around here is there?"

"Never," Sam replied. "It's my turn, now," holding his arms out, he smiled pulling you into a softer embrace, but no less enthusiastic.

You huffed out a laugh and hugged him back with equal fervor.

A few moments had passed, and you reluctantly untangled yourself from Sam. More pleasantries had been exchanged and small talk had filled up the space as you walked fully into open living space.

You did a turn about the room as you headed towards the kitchen area with the guys trailing behind you. You had grabbed the strap of your backpack and had lifted it over your head.

You were about to place your stuff on the kitchen island when you heard soft footfalls make their way from the outer hallway towards you.

The unexpected noise caused you to hesitate; you turned your head towards Sam and James with a puzzled expression on your face. You had opened your mouth with the intention to ask them who else was in the safe house with you, when you saw him.

The backpack you were holding had fallen out of your hands and onto the floor with a thud, but you couldn't tear your eyes off the man standing across the room from you now. Your face had gone completely slack jaw and eyes had widen in shock leaving you speechless.

You would normally have said something quippy in this moment, but your brain had stopped functioning.

The silence was finally broken from Sam's response to the situation.

"Okay, I know what this looks like. We can explain him," Sam cautiously said. "Actually, Bucky should be the one to share this story, since it was his idea."

You could hear the words Sam was saying, but they never really registered. You assumed he thought you were shocked because the man who stood in front of you once tore your friends a part. Because he was supposed to be in a prison in Germany. Any other number of reasons could potentially be listed. What Sam didn't realize, was that the man standing before you was the last person you saw before you disintegrated before his eyes, and this was the first time since that chaos you had seen him again.

Other than Sam's calm reply, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Perhaps it was because the same look of shock and awe was reflected on Zemo's face.

You tried to form a response, something, anything to say.

Neither Sam or Bucky knew you used to visit Zemo after he was imprisoned. Whenever you travelled to Germany, you would tell them you had a contact that only agreed to provide information face to face. They never put two and two together, but they also trusted you implicitly; so they had no reason to ever question your motives or who exactly you were going to see. You actually saw Zemo a fair amount of time. More often than not, it was always to learn about the inner workings of Hydra. While they may be diminished in capacity; they still had not been completely eradicated. And you were determined to locate and destroy every remaining Hydra base, and dismantle them once and for all. They took your parents from you, and you were going to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone ever again. So, Zemo had been the obvious choice to help gain as much information as possible in your quest.

So, over the course of 2 years, you had made several trips to see him. You could almost say you were on friendly terms, but mostly, you believed his kindness and willingness to provide information was a benefit to him. To interact with someone on the outside to remind him he's not completely alone in the world.

The last time you saw each other was a day like any other you would come to visit. You'd lean outside his glass cell and just talk. The prison only allotted an hour's visit. So you always had to make your time worth while.

This particular day was colder than usual for the time of year. And being left outside the prison hallway where Zemo's cell was located only caused the draft to further lower the temperature with the concrete walls. You had involuntarily shivered as a cold draft had blasted in from one of hallways. Zemo had taken notice and unzipped his hoodie, passing it off to the guard to hand over to you. In that moment, the realization came that things were no longer black and white between the two of you. When you asked him why, he simply shrugged and said it's what any gentleman should do. His expression had softened though and was no longer outwardly indifferent. You had put on the blue garment and zipped it up; tugging at the sleeves as the hoodie was much larger on your frame than his.

There was only about 30 minutes left of your visit when alarm bells started going off. Zemo had pushed himself against the glass to look down the closest hallway to try and see what was going on. You had tried to remain calm, but when the guard standing nearby had disappeared right in front of you both, you knew something was dreadfully wrong.

With visible panic on your face, you had whispered out the word Thanos to Zemo. You'll never forget what happened next or the expression on his face. There was a hitch in your lungs and a strong tugging sensation drifting through your chest. You stumbled into the glass and fell to your knees in front of Zemo. You had slumped onto your side trying to concentrate on what was happening to you. You peered up at Zemo as he had slid himself down the glass to your level gazing at you in concern. You could hear him shouting for help, but there was no one around. You placed your hand on the glass to get his attention, and only then did you realize, you had tears in your eyes.

He brought his hand up on the other side of the glass and placed it against where yours was. Funny how an instance can change everything between two people. You saw his eyes widen and that's when you noticed the right side of your body started to turn to dust. All you had time to say was, "I'm sorry," before you completely disintegrated before him, leaving him, no doubt, alone once again.

You would have laughed at the expression on his face now if you knew it hadn't been the first time he's seen you since....what happened. But there was nothing really funny about the situation.

You weren't quite sure what to do, but your feet made the decision for you as you slowly made your way to stand directly in front of Zemo.

It's the first time you've stood together without any glass between you both. He's a bit taller than you, but not by miles; you're chin roughly comes up to his shoulder.

You see him swallow as if he's also thinking of something to say, but instead you see him raise his hand up and start to reach out to touch you, but stops before actually doing it. Internally, you make your choice for him and reach up with your hand and grab the one he's left hanging in the air. It's just a light touch, almost as if you're both worried the other might not be real.

Zemo glanced down at you holding onto his hand and back at you briefly. He squeezed your hand gently and then you heard him release a harsh breath before gripping your hand tighter and yanking you into his arms.

You barely had time to think about what was happening before you were enveloped into the most emotional hug you've ever felt.

The reaction was unexpected, but then so were the circumstances you were in, so nothing should really surprise you, but you were. Your arms were slightly hovering over his back, not entirely sure at that moment what you wanted to do, as you were still in shock. But, after a brief pause you brought your arms firmly around his body and hugged Zemo back with just as much care and buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You heard him mumbling words into the side of your head, but couldn't understand what he was really saying.

Time could have been standing still for the infinite period we were latched onto one another. It wasn't until the clearing of Bucky's throat that jarred us out of the moment. The noise wasn't loud, but the room had been so silent until then; it sounded like a freight train.

Realization must have hit us both at the same time that we weren't alone in the room, and we jumped apart as if lightning had struck us both.

At this point, you were looking at anything in room, but Zemo. You started playing with the ends of your sleeves in nervousness when Sam spoke up in a very slow and deliberate manner, "Would you care to explain to us, what is going on?"

"I thought you were going to have Bucky explain to me, why Zemo's not in prison!" you say back, not ready at all to try and explain things. You still needed to wrap your own head around it, before attempting to share your brief history with Zemo.

"Oh, no doll. This can wait," James answered. You could tell he was not happy, but maybe more confused than anything by how he responded.

Both were assessing Zemo to try and figure out if this is some sort of game to him. Bucky had reached out to grab your arm and pulled you gently away from the criminal mastermind and closer to them to instinctually protect you from him.

You outwardly sighed, knowing there was a long conversation about to happen.

Zemo took a step forward and James took a step back bringing you with him. Sam seemed perturbed over the entire situation, but Zemo spoke up first.

"Is that, what I think it is?" he said. Zemo cocked his head to the side and eyed you with amusement.

You silently shook off the hold Bucky has on you and raise an eyebrow at him to not try that again. You swiveled back to Zemo, placing your hands on your hips. Confusion was written clearly on your face as you answered him back, "Could you be a little less vague?" A small smile graced your face in reply.

Zemo pointed at your midsection and a smug expression appeared on his face.

"I must say, you look quite fetching in my clothes."

You were physically startled by his comment. You had forgotten you were wearing his hoodie. It's why you went to Germany. To return it to him, but when you found out he was no longer there, you realized you were going to have to either keep it permanently or track him down. Sam's call came in before you could make that decision. Fate really is something else.

Your hands grabbed the fabric of the hoodie as you closed your eyes and ducked your head. You could feel the embarrassment threatening to turn your whole face red.

You started to shuffled away knowing an immediate outburst was coming from both of her friends. What Zemo just said, implied so many different things. So, of course Sam and Bucky would start shouting without having any context to the situation of how you acquired a piece of his clothing.

If the floor could have opened up at that moment, you would have appreciated it.

Sam and Bucky were both visibly upset and clearly about to start a fight with Zemo, but thankfully Sam, being the more even tempered of the group, stopped Bucky from doing anything. He had shrugged off Sam and stared at you with hurt on his face.

You exhaled shakily as things started to calm down. You dared to catch a glimpse of Zemo, and of course, out of everyone here, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy causing the chaos he wrought with his sly comment.

If looks could kill, he would have been flayed alive.

"Enough," you said to everyone. It was time to clear the air. "Let's all just take a seat."

You had gotten exasperated by the entire situation and turned to Bucky and Sam, "Do you automatically have to jump to conclusions? Do you not think there is a perfectly logical explanation, somewhere?" You had slapped your hands down by your sides and turned to Zemo. He looked as if he were about to say something, but you cut him off pointing a finger at him.

"And you. Big trouble. Don't even get me started."

As you stared at Zemo; he at least had the decency to appear somewhat contrite at your scolding. You could still tell he was mildly amused about the whole situation.

You saw Sam had taken a seat and started to wave you over to where he and Bucky were.

"Start talking," he said.

"I'm not sure where to start," you answered, pacing back and forth.

"How about the beginning?" Bucky parroted out arms crossed in front of him, he was clearly still a bit defensive.

"The beginning. Right. Sure. I can do that," you stopped to think about how to start, but everything just seemed to be as if you were actually hiding something from them, when you weren't. It just never came up, and The Blip was emotional for everyone.

Truth be told, you would like to avoid this conversation at all costs. For many reasons, some you're not ready to deal with.

Zemo had spoke up while you were deciding how to broach the subject at hand.

"If I may," he spoke.

The three of us had answered him simultaneously, "No!"

Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

OOOOO

[writertitan]

have you eve done the fluff alphabet before? They can be kind of long but I'd love to hear your thoughts on Levi!

this is so cute, i’ve never done a fluff alphabet! this is the one i’ve seen go around by @snk-warriors​ (so cute thank u for sharing)

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I think Levi is the type of partner who starts up a new hobby with a partner as a way of bonding with them. Like, the two of you just get super into candle-making together lmao. I think he’d want to spend most of his free time with his partner, even if it’s just in comfortable silence. He really appreciates feeling safe with his person and relishes in the mundane.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

I’ll say it before and I’ll say it again. Levi doesn’t really have a physical type. He really pays attention to people’s character first. He would really admire how his partner is constantly trying to be their best self, and admires their strength, and he thinks it’s beautiful that they can see the good in life, because it helps him see the good in life too. He would absolutely love the most random parts of your body, though. Maybe it’s your cheekbones, maybe it’s the shape of your hands. Something that he thinks is so unique to you.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Levi is not a man of many words a lot of the time, but he is a man of action. If his partner is feeling down in any way, he’s there physically to help you through it. Over time, he makes little mental notes of what seems to help and what doesn’t, so that he can continue doing the things that help you and stop doing the things that don’t. If you prefer just being held for a while, no talking, he catches on quickly and offers himself up. If you need to talk, he listens and makes sure you know you’re the only thing in the world he’s paying attention to at that moment. He’ll know how you’ve calmed yourself down in the past, before he was in the picture, and takes up that ritual himself. Did you make yourself some mac and cheese to cheer yourself up in the past? He knows the recipe now, too. Very action-based man.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Levi, especially canon Levi, has trouble envisioning any sort of long-term future for himself. He’s just living his life one day at a time and pushing through. However, with a partner in his life, he indulges himself with little visions of the future. Things like marriage, children, are blurry wishes to him tbh, not out of the question but things that he won’t allow himself to indulge in. They’re kind of a given if you’re serious, and that’s enough to satisfy him. But near-future things are things he often thinks about. He wants to live with his partner, wants to think about how they’ll spend their next anniversary, he often thinks about what you both will be doing together for the holidays. Those futures comfort him immensely.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I think it is actually rather equal with Levi. He has so much baggage of his own, that a partner willing to share the load would make him feel really safe. But, I think he’d subconsciously be more of the dominant figure. He dedicates himself to his loved ones, and would do anything for them, and his partner would feel that tenfold.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Levi definitely is an, “I’m too old for this shit” type of guy when it comes to fights with his partner lmfao. He’s not about the dramatics of fighting. I don’t think he’d really ever yell at his partner or vice versa. The fights would have a snarky energy - I can see him snapping at his partner sometimes, or making an infamous sarcastic remark when he’s irritated - but Levi would honestly rather just discuss the problem bluntly and get it out of the way. But my god, the man wouldn’t back down until it was all cleared up.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. I think Levi would be so thankful to have his partner in his life. He knows he’s a tough nut to crack, so having someone finally get through to him is scary but wonderful. He sees everything you do for him and I think he’d honestly be so emotional about even the littlest things, because he’s so used to taking care of everyone else. It’s almost uncomfortable for him to know that someone is unconditionally loving him, but he’s grateful he has that love. Never takes it for granted.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Per the above, Levi is a tough nut to crack, and I think it would take a really, really long time to fully open him up. Like, a really long time. Honestly, he may not ever completely open up about his past because it can be so dark, but that doesn’t mean that he would actively keep secrets from you. If anything, his partner would know him the best out of everyone. While he may keep some stuff about his past in the dark, everything else is no secret. He’ll tell you about his day, about what’s going on with his friends, all that good stuff.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think Levi with a partner would be a little softer, and a little more optimistic. I also think a big thing that Levi would change would be his ability to compromise (because I think it’s hard for him to compromise). He’d definitely be a lot happier and kinder to himself with a partner around. And, in private, he’d allow himself to be more vulnerable and actually show his emotions. Levi is a pretty level-headed person as well, and I think he would pass that trait on to his partner.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Levi is not a jealous person, but he’s very protective of his partner!! This is the hill I die on!!! He is always looking out for you, so if someone does hit on you, he watches to see how you react. If it’s funny to you, it’s funny to him, but if it’s creepy to you, then he’s already cracking his knuckles.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

I don’t want to roast this lovely man but I don’t think he’d be a great kisser at first LMAO. He’s so not used to being loved. Levi is touch-starved, confirmed on Tanny’s blog. I think the first kiss is okay at best, definitely awkward, and Levi definitely doesn’t really know what to do. He’s a quick learner, though. He’s a good kisser in no time, after learning how you like to be kissed, and after finally getting him to believe it’s okay to be affectionate.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I picture it as word vomit (Levi’s version of word vomit tho, which is like, a couple of sentences). He’d confess his feelings for you once he just can’t physically keep the words in anymore. He’d definitely fight against it for a while but then the word vomit happens. I think, specifically, his first “I love you” would be quite intimate and very quiet, just a whisper in your ear when he finally realizes it. Realizing he loves you would be much easier for him than realizing he has feelings for you, so he wouldn’t even hesitate with saying it first, the sweet boi.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

I don’t think Levi had ever considered marriage before meeting you. But after meeting you, that would likely change if you wanted to get married. He’d want to spend his life with his partner, and whether that means marriage or not, it doesn’t quite matter to him. Just the promise of being together is good enough for him. If the two of you do decide to get married, it’s no frills. Tbh, there’s no elaborate proposal from Levi, but he makes sure that he formally asks you and that it’s special to the two of you. Maybe he’d ask you at the place you first met/kissed/etc. The marriage itself would be just as lovely and peaceful as the relationship with him beforehand. Not much changes, except both you and Levi acknowledge there’s an added commitment as spouses. I think both of you would really cherish your new titles as spouses.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Levi doesn’t strike me as the type to give their S/O nicknames like babe, baby, etc. but I’m sure he’d have a specific nickname that only he uses for you. Other than that, just calling his partner by their name is enough.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Levi’s quite the stoic man, so while he presents that way to the rest of the world, his loved ones can actually see the difference between an “in love” Levi vs. a “not in love” Levi. It’s not that it’s a huge difference, he’s just softer somehow, and there’s more peace within his eyes, and he even smiles more. Levi’s not a huge fan of PDA, so he’s not prone to showing a lot of affection in front of others. In private, it’s a different story. Once he gets comfortable with affection, he’s more receptive and more giving. In front of others, he’s more comfortable holding hands or putting his hand on your back. He may not be a fan of PDA, but his eyes are on you frequently, and anyone who catches him looking at you can see how much he loves his partner.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Like I said above, not a fan of PDA. Doesn’t mean Levi’s secretive about his relationship at all. He’s proud to have his partner and proud to talk about his partner when the topic comes up. He’d be quite shy/uncomfortable kissing in front of others. Maybe not a fan of kisses on the lips, but he’d be more okay with forehead kisses, cheek kisses, etc.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Levi is so protective over his partner don’t @ me, and it just also means he’s naturally more attentive. He’d notice if your mood changes, he’d notice if something was “off” with you, he’d definitely remember you mentioning wanting something in passing and then gift it for your birthday/Christmas/a random Tuesday like MONTHS later. Memory of an elephant and more tuned into emotions than people give him credit for.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Again, not overtly romantic. Levi is a straightforward person, very practical, and very simple. But he’d give his partner the moon if he could. He believes in making things special, though, so I think he would actually put some thought/creativity in romantic actions rather than going for something cliché.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Oh absolutely. Levi is so supportive of his S/O and is happy to help with achieving any goal. He truly believes you can do whatever you put your mind to. You could lean on Levi for help with anything. He’s not one to make fun of your dreams. He’d just give his best advice and help you get a move on.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Levi definitely prefers routine. He’s a simple man with simple pleasures, and his whole life has been quite unpredictable, so he really loves the simple things in your relationship. Loves your morning routine, your night routine, loves weekly date nights. Of course, he’d enjoy trying new things with his partner, but he legitimately can’t get enough of what other might see as “mundane” parts of a relationship, because he thought he’d never get to experience that.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Levi knows his S/O like the back of his hand. He wants to know everything about them but is also respectful if it takes time for you to open up. He can be empathetic, but it takes time for him to get there tbh. He would be uncomfortable with blatant emotional conversations at first, just give him time. He just wants you to be comfortable with him at the end of the day and vice versa.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Levi’s S/O is so goddamn lucky tbh. He would never, ever take his partner for granted. He’s slow to get the hang of a serious relationship, that’s true, but he’s always trying his hardest to make the relationship be as good as it is. The best part is that Levi doesn’t lose himself in a relationship, however. He values his partner and prioritizes them, but you’d never catch yourself in a codependent relationship with this man. He wants you to be your own person and he wants that for himself, too. You’re one of his most important relationships, if not the most important one, but he understands that you are your own person and he is his own person.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Levi wears a ring with your initials carved on the inside.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In public, again, not the most blatantly affectionate. In private, he’s more into it. He loves having his arms around you or vice versa. He just likes having the warmth of his partner there, doesn’t need to be something very sexual or very physical.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Levi would be more irritable if he’s without his S/O for some time imo. Have a week long trip you have to go on? He misses you more and more with each passing day, and he gets bitchier with each passing day. He does take it out on everyone else (poor fellas). If he’s not pissy, he’s otherwise quiet and just focuses on his own stuff until he sees you again.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Levi is extremely protective of his S/O and would literally put his life on the line for them. He’s kind of dramatic in that way, but he would rather suffer in your place any day. He would do anything for his partner.

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Sorceress (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki comes to stay at the Avengers Tower while you are away on a mission. He becomes quite interested in you when he learns you wield magic similar to him and Doctor Strange.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,260

Warnings/Disclaimers: Anxiety issues, brief mentions of blood loss and injury, Wanda being an awesome friend

Masterlist

You wound your way into the kitchen and flipped on the electric kettle. Gathering your mug, you pulled out your calming tea blend. Today was the first day of the semester, and it always made you anxious. You felt like you had not rested one bit over the summer break. It probably didn’t help that Fury had sent you on a mission for most of it and you just returned yesterday, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Just keep moving. This was your life now.

You went over the mental checklist in your head. Syllabus, notes, handouts...

“And who might you be?”

The low, charming voice ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to jump and almost knock over your mug. Swinging around to face the intruder, you found Loki the God of Mischief hovering closely behind you. You had forgotten about Thor contacting you on your mission to tell you Loki would be kept at the Tower for his punishment. Tony made him call you, something he did when he was afraid of you being angry. You had heard Tony coaching Thor in the background of the call.

“Don’t do that!”

He chuckled, taking a step back. “My sincerest apologies.”

“Riiiight.”

You folded your arms and took in his appearance. He definitely did not look the same as he did on the news when he tried to take New York. From the images you had seen, his eyes were wild and sunken and his face gave off a sense of malnourishment. The god standing before you now looked healthy with bright not quite blue but not quite green eyes that held a sprinkle of boyish mischief. Maybe Thor had it right about the possible mind control.

“Shall we start anew?” He bowed lightly, delicately taking the fingers of your right hand in his, forcing you to uncross your arms. “I am Prince Loki of Asgard.”

Oh no... Boyo was laying it on thick.

Nervously clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

“A lovely name, my lady. May I ask why I have not seen you here before?”

He was still holding your hand. You could feel his energy pushing against yours. Was he trying to test your abilities?

“I was on a mission overseas. Just got back last night.”

“That is a shame. I would have preferred your presence here when I first arrived.”

You heard the click of the kettle and pulled your hand away to pour the hot water in your mug. He seemed almost disappointed by the loss of contact.

“I heard from Wanda that it was pure chaos for a while. She practically begged me to abandon the mission and come home,” you chuckled. “Don’t know if that would have done any good though.”

Taking a sip of your still brewing tea, you realized Loki had retaken the step back from earlier and was nearly looming over you. You regained that space, heading for the door.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish preparing for class.”

You rocketed out the door before he had a chance to respond.

You flopped on your bed after taking a portal home. Your closest friend Wanda was there to greet you.

“So how are all the magic newbies you ditched me for?” she teased.

You huffed a laugh. “Same old, same old. College freshmen who think they already know everything. They’ll be in a world of hurt in the coming weeks.”

“At least being an adjunct professor has its perks, right?”

“Yeah. I have some semblance of a life.”

You both started giggling at that.

“Are you still going to eat with everyone for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t see why not. Today was only day one of classes. Nothing to grade yet.”

“Maybe Loki will chill out then.”

You casted Wanda a concerned look. “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and sat up on the bed. “Ever since Thor mentioned you could wield magic, Loki kept asking when you would be back.”

“Huh,” you mulled. “Guess that would explain this morning.”

“This morning?”

You nodded and hummed. “Yeah. I was in the kitchen making tea when he showed up.”

“You talked to him before me?!” She shoved you playfully, feigning hurt feelings.

“Because I totally planned it,” you laughed.

“So what did you think?”

“You mean other than tall, dark and handsome?” You paused as she snickered. “He’s alright, I guess. He was being overly nice.”

Wanda scoffed. “That little... Okay. So, when he wasn’t holed up in his room or the library being all nice and quiet, he kept making all these snarky comments to everyone. Then, there was the pranking... He saved that mostly for Tony though.”

“So what you’re saying is to keep my guard up because he could go bipolar on me.”

“Yup.”

“Great... This is going to be fun... How long is he staying?”

“Indefinitely.”

All you could do was groan and hide your head in your pillow.

Dinner was suffocating to say the least. Loki joined the team in the dining area, apparently a rarity for him, and they were not happy about it. Well, it was mostly the original team members, the ones who fought against Loki in the Battle of New York. The newer members like you and Wanda, while not fond of him either, couldn’t care less. Thor seemed to be the only who was content, shoveling food down his throat, unable to read the room with a silence so palpable and deafening.

This is... awkward. Wanda spoke to you through her mind, something she usually did when she was uncomfortable but still needed to express herself.

No kidding. I’m thinking about ditching.

Aren’t you hungry though?

Starving! But I can’t eat like this. I’ll come back down in a couple of hours for something. Maybe I’ll watch a movie til then.

Room for one more?

Always!

With half your plate empty, you excused yourself and disposed of the scraps in the kitchen. Steve, who usually fussed at you about your not so great eating habits, did not say a word. Sneaking some snacks for the movie from the kitchen, you went back to your room to wait for Wanda who popped by about ten minutes later.

You woke with a start, stomach growling and gurgling. You blinked away the sleep from your eyes and looked around. Wanda was long gone. You guessed she went back to her room after you fell asleep at some point. She was at least nice enough to turn off the TV before disappearing.

Your belly rumbled, again. Reluctantly leaving behind the warmth of your blankets, you stumbled to your feet and hobbled to the kitchen. You reached for the light switch, the kitchen being too dim in the low lighting left on at night. The lights turned on before you could find it.

“I was wondering when you would arrive.” Your name slid off Loki’s tongue like silk.

Letting out a breath, you tempered your scowl. “What made you think I was coming down here?”

“Aside from the dinner you barely touched?” he chuckled as he traced a finger across the counter. “Well, it can be considered rude to hold a private conversation from such a small group of people.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised by a magic wielder being able to see what other magic wielders are doing.

You folded your arms. “It’s definitely considered rude to eavesdrop.”

“That is quite true.” His signature smirk graced his face. “Although, is it really eavesdropping when I did not listen to what was being said? I merely sensed the exchange of energies.”

“Sure...” You didn’t believe him, but you would let it go for now. It’s not like you two had said anything damning. You just needed to be a bit more careful moving forward. “Now would you be so kind as to stand aside? I would like something to eat, and you’re blocking the fridge.”

“My apologies, but perhaps I may be of better service to you with,” he snapped his fingers, “this.”

The leftovers from dinner instantly appeared piping hot on a plate.

“How did you-”

“Come now. I thought you were a sorceress,” he smirked teasingly.

There was the ego you were expecting.

“I can manage the same end result,” you pouted. “But... the steps leading to it would be different...”

“I could always show you how.”

That grin and those alluring aventurine eyes would be the death of you. You wanted so badly to say yes. While you had the schooling and moved on to helping others, there was still so much more to learn. To say you were eager would be an understatement. The problem was you just met this Trickster God. How could you trust him so soon?

“I... I appreciate the offer, but maybe another time.”

You tucked some of your hair behind your ear. Why did you feel guilty for turning him down?

“Of course. The offer remains standing. Enjoy your dinner, Sorceress,” he replied, his disappointed voice betraying his stoic demeanor.

With that, he swiftly left the room. Yeah. You felt bad. Maybe you would find a way to make it up to him.

Weeks later, and you were frustrated beyond belief. The last lesson you attempted to teach was going nowhere. You needed help, and you needed it now.

You sprung from your room with your notes and textbook and practically sprinted to the library where Loki could usually be found. You were right. There he was lounging with his back to you on one of the couches amongst the books, reading Dante’s Divine Comedy.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Sorceress?” He didn’t even look up from the text. Not a good sign.

Taking a breath, you answered, “I was hoping I could get your help with something.”

That got his attention. “Oh? Would you not rather ask that Strange fellow the others prefer to associate with.” he scowled.

Great. Of course, he had to be in one of those moods today. His mood swings were to be expected but the timing was difficult to predict.

“Pff. The last time I asked him for help, he was a total ass. Just because he trained with a master overseas for a short period of time and has a photographic memory does not mean he fully understands every magical concept.” You brought your rant to a halt. You could say so much more but doubted anyone wanted to listen.

“Well, someone who sees that charlatan for what he truly is,” he snorted, snapping his book shut. “Now, pray tell, why would I assist you when your magic is so similar to his?”

Adding fuel to the fire. The rant was back on. With a huff, you came around to the front of the sofa and dropped your supplies on the coffee table, taking a seat next to him.

“You really want to get me started, don’t you? Look, I have been practicing and studying magic since I was child before I even knew what I was even doing. Hell, I’m still learning. That will never stop. I have worked my ass off to get this far. That’s why I get frustrated with Strange. He never believed in magic until it could help him in some fashion, and then he’s deemed a ‘master’ so soon after starting. Admittedly, yes, I am a bit jealous. However, I would not change how I have learned because it has allowed me to dig deeper and understand more.”

You inhaled deeply, signaling the end of your monologue. You had not really meant to go that far with it, but it was too late now. Your words hung in the air as Loki studied you.

“What do you need assistance with?” He flashed you a grin.

You silently screamed with relief. “Okay, so there was a theory I was trying to teach yesterday.” Flipping open the textbook to the right page, you brought your notebook and pen to your lap. “The students just aren’t getting it.”

Loki leaned over the table to read the book. “Magical Exchange: The Equal Exchange Theory...” His eyebrows could have rocketed off his forehead with how surprised he was. “This is an elementary subject.”

“It is a 101 course,” you shrugged. “I just don’t know how to explain it better. I’ve not taught a class that had issues with this before. This particular group has proven... Difficult.”

“Have you attempted a more... Oh what do you mortals call it,” he hummed. “A more ‘hands on’ approach?”

You sighed and unconsciously tapped your pen on your notebook. “Yeah. I tried to improvise like that when the text did nothing. It just made things worse.”

“I see...” His lips drooped into a frown. “Perhaps a new perspective is required.”

“You read my mind,” you teased, winking at him. You still had not forgotten that first day. “So if you were teaching this, how would you go about it?”

Clearing his throat, he picked up the text book and lounged back on the couch. An anxious silence droned on before he finally spoke again.

“This text describes the various classifications of what is considered Equal Exchange, yet there is little on what does not qualify.”

Loki proceeded on his own mini-lecture about the experiments performed by both mortals and Asgardians, many of which ended in failure due to the lack of Equal Exchange. One ended up being about the Philosopher’s Stone, a topic you had already learned quite a bit about. You scribbled notes as fast as you could, filling up a good quarter of your notebook when he had finished.

You chewed on the end of your pen while looking over your notes. “This could work. Between these explanations and showing some examples, they might grasp what all it means.” Letting out a tired sigh, you looked up at him with full sincerity. “Thank you, Loki. I owe you one.”

He chuckled deeply, sending shivers down your spine. What was he up to?

“There is one favor I wish to ask of you in exchange.”

You blinked deftly. “And what might that be?”

Taking your free hand in his, he gently swiped his thumb across your knuckles. “I merely ask for a dance.”

“A. Dance?” That was not what you had expected.

“Yes. Stark is holding one of his... illustrious parties next Saturday.”

Oh crap. You had purposely forgotten about that. Parties were not normally your thing.

“R-right! I forgot...” you mumbled, swiping your hair behind your ear.

“All I ask is one dance. Would that be acceptable?”

You gazed into his eyes where a dabble of insecure hope hid. “I... Yes. That would be nice.”

Your face felt like it was on fire when he kissed your knuckles, whispering, “Excellent,” before he helped you to your feet and gathered your belongings.

Saturday seemed to arrive all too quickly. Anxiety pulsated through your veins most of the day. Why were you so nervous? It was just one dance.

You sucked in a breath as you took in your appearance in the mirror. The off-the-shoulder, malachite dress hugged your form just right until it flowed gracefully from your hips to your knees. A silver pendant and heels tied off the look. You looked... Good. Better than you had anticipated. Now if you could just calm yourself down.

All those people, people you did not know for the most part would be there, too. Tony always invited so many guests no one else knew. But you also wouldn’t be alone. The whole team was going to be there. You would not be alone. One party should be manageable.

A knock at your door tore you from your spiraling thoughts. With a half-hearted sigh, you meandered to the door and open it to find Wanda and Vision. Wanda must have sensed your distress. She took one look at you, told Vision she would meet him downstairs, gave him a chaste kiss and stepped into your room, closing the door behind her.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this, Wanda.” You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts of nausea swimming in your head.

She said your name with such resolution, your gaze snapped up to hers. “You can do this.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t start. One, you look gorgeous. Two, you’re a professor AND Avenger. You teach in auditoriums and fight bad guys for a living. This party should not be a problem.”

“Small auditoriums...” you mumbled, earning you a look.

“Three, Vision and I will stay nearby. If any weirdo tries anything with you again, we’ll be there.”

Because you needed to remember the one party where some drunk rando was getting too handsy, the one where you had trouble controlling your abilities because you did not and do not like crowds. Tony, Steve and Wanda had to extract you after kicking out the drunk moron. That was your last party.

“I don’t want to be the third whe-”

“Shush. I’m not done.” She waved you off. “And four, once you have your dance, you can get the hell out of there. Okay?” She smiled sympathetically.

You nodded and looked at the floor. Wanda took you by the shoulders and forced you to stand.

“Alright, now breathe with me. Ground and center. Breathe. Raise your shields. Breathe.”

Doing what you were told, you started to feel better, the deep breaths helping the most.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s get going. Remember, you can do this.” She guided you towards the door.

“Right... I can do this...”

I can’t do this...

You leaned on a wall out of the way, sipping on a light cocktail that you had hoped would keep you calm. It didn’t. Between the flashing lights, pounding music and the chaotic array of energies emanating off the guests just made you want to crawl in a hole and bury yourself.

Wanda and Vision were out of your sight but you could still sense them nearby. They’d be there in a blink of an eye if you needed them, but you didn’t want to ruin their fun. It also did not help that Loki was nowhere to be seen. At first, you thought he and Thor were getting ready, but that thought was thrown out when Thor arrived fashionably late alone. Maybe Loki decided the whole thing was a waste of time and backed out of coming. Yeah. That had to be it which meant you could bug out of here early.

“There you are, Sorceress.”

Never mind. Just as you had moved to the bar to set your glass down, Loki showed up behind you. You spun around, dress flowing out as you did. He looked taken aback with his cheeks slightly flushed. He muttered something under his breath but the music and chatter drowned him out.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

He just shook his head, smiling as he reached out a hand for you. “Would you care to join me on the balcony?”

Balcony?! Why didn’t you think about going out there? It would be so much quieter.

“I would like that very much.” You took his hand and let him lead you outside.

The balcony was so much better. The doors muffled the incessant beat of the club music along with the yelling guests. You took in a deep breath, taking the chance to glance at Loki and appreciate his look.

Yup. Still attractive in Midgardian clothing. His designer suit looked as though it was made only for him, the black color matching his curling hair that brushed past his shoulders. The green tie brought out his eyes and made them seem more saturated like an emerald. You definitely appreciated the new style.

“You’re staring, Darling,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I’m so used to seeing you in your Asgardian garb,” you flushed. “T-the change is not unwelcome though. You look great!”

Great. Where were your words when you needed them most? And did he call you “Darling”?

“Thank you, my dear. Now, about that dance...”

That’s when you realized he was still holding your hand.

“What about the music?”

“I have something better planned than the noise Stark has chosen.”

He pulled you close, one hand encased yours while the other placed your free hand on his shoulder before snapping his fingers and keeping you close by the small of your back. A record player appeared playing Merry-Go-Round of Life.

“Shall we?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes.”

Loki swayed with you along the length of the balcony, leading you into spins in time with the music. Neither of you had said a word since you started moving, but you did not need to. Everything was perfect. You felt like you were dancing on clouds amongst the stars. All of your anxiety had melted away. Needless to say, you were disappointed when the song ended.

“I do not suppose I would be able to convince you for another dance?”

Loki held your hands in his as he pulled back. He seemed just as disappointed as you.

“Well,” you mocked contemplation, “That wasn’t part of the original agreement.”

The soft grip on your hands loosened even more.

“But, I don’t see why I can’t make an exception, especially seeing how your explanations went over so well with the students. I haven’t thanked you for that part,” you smirked and with a golden flourish of your hand, changed the music on the record player.

Loki’s grin put the starlight to shame as he brought you back to him. As one song ended, one of you would switch it out to keep the music going.

Neither of you knew how long you were out there for. It had to have been more than a couple of hours since Tony was the one to break up your private party.

“Reindeer Games, Magic Hands! Pack it up! Party guests have already left!”

Both of you grimaced, hating your nicknames. Regardless, Loki led you back inside. Wanda and Vision had stayed throughout the party while you were on the balcony, and gave both of you these little knowing looks as you passed them. Ignoring them, Loki walked you to your room.

“Thank you, Loki. You made the night much more enjoyable,” you smiled brightly.

He smiled back, playing with the fingers of your hands. “I am happy to be of assistance, Sorceress.”

A moment of silence and you stepped forward, thinking of something a touch bold. “You know, if this were to become a regular occurrence, I might be persuaded to show up at Stark’s parties more often.”

A low chuckle reverberated in his chest. “That could be arranged.”

“I hope so.” You leaned on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, again.”

You slipped past your door so quickly you didn’t notice the lightly dusted blush on Loki’s face.

Today was not a good day. Scratch that. It was a terrible day. Some senior in Advanced Summoning got cocky and accidentally summoned a few large, irate creatures from the Fae Realm. With you being an Avenger and working for the school, it was no surprise you were chosen to handle the situation. Killing would have been easier, but you could not bring yourself to do it. It’s not their fault they were ripped from their home and dropped in an unfamiliar world. You were able to open a portal and send them back but not without sustaining a critical injury. You were barely able to close the portal before passing out from blood loss.

You woke up in the medical wing of the campus, a fog clouding your brain. You felt the dull pain in your side where one of the creatures had swiped its claws whenever you tried to move.

“Oh! Please lie still!” A healer came rushing over. “You don’t want to reopen the wound. We’ve done all we can to heal you without overloading your body.”

You just nodded and rested your head on the pillow. Looking at the window, you noticed how dark it was.

“What time is it?”

The healer looked at you nervously. “A little after 10PM.”

Groaning, you sank into the pillow more. “Do you know where my phone is? I need to make a call.”

The team knew your schedule, and they were going to flip, especially Loki. You two had grown attached to each other since the start of your balcony dances (there had been at least six so far). The status of your relationship was in limbo, somewhere between friends and romantic partners. Neither of you seemed to know which way to go.

The healer left the room momentarily before rushing back in. Handing you your phone, she warned, “Now, your phone started going off non-stop since about six this evening. We had to answer just to see if it was important and if they could wait until you called back. Th-the man on the other end. He was.. Not. Pleased. He started demanding to know where you were...”

“I understand,” you cut her off softly. “If I could get some privacy please, I will call him.”

She nodded and headed to the door.

“And whatever else he said, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The healer pursed her lips and closed the door behind her. What the hell did he say to her?

You picked Loki’s contact in your phone. He answered in barely one ring, calling out your name. “Norns, are you alright?! Where are you? What happened?”

“Loki, I’m fine. I’m still on campus. There was a little mishap that I had to take care of. Got a little banged up in the process, but everything is okay.” You added that last part quickly.

“A little mishap? You should have returned hours ago. Please, allow me to bring you home.”

“Loki, the school only allows faculty members and students on campus. The wards make sure of that. And despite the constant demands, even Fury and Strange have not been granted access. They don’t even know where to look. Besides, you’re on lockdown. Remember?” You tried to reason with him, but knew he would not give up so easily.

He pleaded your name. Lately, he almost always stuck to pet names for you, only using your name when he was truly upset. “Please... I need to know that you are in good health.”

“I am, Loki. I will more than likely be back at the Tower in the morning.”

“Not tonight?” His pout was clear even over the phone.

“It’s late and I doubt the healers would let me check myself out at this hour.”

“I- Alright.” The defeated tone in his voice made your heart break.

“I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“Please...”

“Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight.”

As you pulled the phone away to hang up, you heard him call your name.

“Yes?”

“I... I will see you tomorrow.”

You hummed with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

It was early morning when you finally left the campus. Loki didn’t answer his phone, so you left him a voicemail instead, fairly sure he knew how to access it. Cell phones still were not his strong suit, but he was getting better.

Stepping through the Tower doors, you were greeted by Happy who gave you the world’s most gentle bear hug. He had Friday let the others know you were headed up.

“By the way,” he yelled to you as you stepped in the elevator. “Loki was up all night worrying about you. You should go talk to him.” He winked at you.

You just shook your head as the elevator doors. When they reopened at the common room floor, you were greeted with Wanda tackling you before she dragged you out.

“Loki told us something went down at the University. What happened?!”

She pulled you into the common room to one of the sofas.

“Some moron was trying to impress a girl in Advanced Summoning. Brought in some undocumented creatures from the Fae Realm.”

“Of course... Now you were hurt? Where?” She started looking you over.

You lifted your shirt just enough to show the heavy bruising on your side. “The healers did a decent patch up. Just have to deal with this for a couple days, and then I’m good.”

“I wish I could help, but healing is not my forte.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” you smiled reassuringly, letting your shirt fall.

“Fine is not how you would have been classified yesterday,” a low voice came from behind the couch, startling you.

“L-Loki! I thought I had told you not to do that!” You clutched your chest, taking a deep breath.

“Darling, may I speak with you? Alone.” Loki gestured for you to follow him.

You squeezed Wanda’s hand apologetically. “I’ll come find you later.”

Loki led you out, down the hall and into the library. He didn’t say a word until he sat you down on the couch next to him, gaze on his lap.

“Loki... I-”

“Dove, what were you thinking taking on those beasts on your own?” He clutched your hands tightly.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m one of the few stateside who is trained in battle magic,” you pleaded.

He was upset. It was obvious. Your heart shattered with how he looked at you, fear and worry melded into one.

“You could have called for assistance.”

“Loki, we’ve been over this-”

“Would they not have made an exception with their students in danger.” It was a statement. He was right about that.

“If there were time, yes. They needed to be dealt with immediately.” You tore your hands from his grasp and cupped his face for him to really look you in the eyes. “Loki. Everything turned out alright. I’m still here, and I’m okay.”

“And yet you almost were not.” His voice was so quiet, you barely heard him. “I... I do not...”

You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, encouraging him to go on. He pulled one hand away to hold while leaning into the other.

“Just be more careful from now on. Please.”

“Of course.”

“Promise me.” He squeezed your hand.

“I will. But first.” You took your hand from his face. “Finish what you were saying.”

He froze. “I am not sure what you mean.”

“You cut yourself off three times within twenty-four hours. You always finish your sentences. Now. What were you going to say?”

He still was not used to being caught, his initial confusion evident in his eyes which then darted about the room nervously. You sighed, and with a golden flourish of your hand, the library doors shut and locked.

“There. No one to walk in and disturb us or overhear.”

Loki was silent. He stared at your hand that was intertwined with his, then met your eyes.

“I do not know what I would do without you,” he whispered, bringing you into his arms in one fluid motion, your head tucked under his chin.

The scent of cedar and sage filled your senses as you returned the embrace and carded your fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s not something you need to think about. I’m not going anywhere,” you responded softly. “Promise.”

He hugged you close, pulling you into his lap. His chest rose with a deep breath before he kissed the top of your head.

[cozycryptidcorner]

Étienne the Fae, Part One of Two

This was commissioned by the illustrious and fantastical @monsterfolkandfiction​! Thank you so much, and I hope that everyone enjoys this story as well. A second part is being drafted now.

tw: disordered eating, manipulative and abusive mother

You shouldn’t have gone into your grandfather’s basement.

You shouldn’t have gone into your grandfather’s basement. .

There were voices. Lots of voices, and you thought that a show of brilliance might grant your grandfather’s coveted attention above your cousins’. The door was unlocked, how could you not sneak a peek down the forbidden stairwell? So you crept down, hand on the rail for safety, eyes wide in the hopes of spotting something.

You remember how to summon him. Always. You’ve blocked out everything else about him, but you always remember how to call him back, even if you never will. Only in an emergency, you would always think, glaring at your mark as though he can see you through the mottled purple flesh.

You wipe a bit of sweat from your face, chewing on your lower lip as you glance over your shoulder at the ticking clock—almost midnight. The little vagrant who caused the muddy disaster you’re cleaning is asleep already, hand clutching her rag still as she lays limp on the wooden floor.

Maria is a good kid. Troubled, yes, a mischief-maker for sure, but she’s good. She’s just the type who needs a little guidance, that’s all. You didn’t bother trying to wake her back up, mostly because you know it would do no good, and honestly, it’s probably easier to finish the mess yourself without dealing with a cranky, tired child. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal, it’s not like she hasn’t managed to clean up her messes before.

Just a little bit, you tell yourself as you scrub the rest of the mud from the floor,she’s lost.

It doesn’t take you much longer to finish up the mud, the water in the bucket sloshing an earthy brown the more you pollute it with the dirt slurry on your rag. None of the nuns have walked by the entrance, which is good, because you don’t exactly want to face them. You wouldn’t even have to come up with an explanation, they’ll know, especially the head of the abbey. The last thing you’d want is for Maria to be whipped with that reedy switch some of the nuns carry around to punish unruly children.

After dumping out the bucket of dirt, you wipe your sweaty palms on your apron, letting out a bated breath. The moon has already sunk behind the hills, the night only lit by the dim candles you managed to steal out from the servant’s noses. While one might think that a place of worship would have plenty of access to such supplies, it seems like everything is scarce in the days where the darkness licks and poisons like a snake.

“Are you alright, young sister?”

Though you jump, it’s only Sister Anya, a soft, young-looking nun looking down at you with the utmost concern.

Her pale hair is highlighted by the candlelight in the most martyr-like way that you feel the urge to fall on your knees and plead for her to pray for you. Everything about her is ethereal, almost almost horrendously beautiful, blue eyes so deep and dark your lungs fill with water as though drowning when you look at her.

Trying to steady yourself, you place a hand on the wooden bannister, then nod, shakily.

She glances at the bucket you’re holding, and her gaze softens considerably. “Were the children giving you a difficult time today?”

Since you know Anya isn’t one of the nuns who believe that pain is the path to godliness, so you’re more willing to express any frustrations you might have with her. So you shrug, then roll your eyes, trying to force your tongue to work but settle for gestures instead.

Sister Anya places a hand on your shoulder sympathetic gesture.” Your nerves are high today, hm?”

Thankful you don’t have to bother explaining yourself, verbally or through a thousand of different hand positions, you nod.

Sister Anya lets out a gentle sigh. “I’m so sorry, dove, the children ought to know not to press against your patience.”

Again, you shrug, walking over to the door in order to dump the muddied bucket, before passing it to her waiting hands.

“Again,” Sister Anya says softly, “I know that you’re not obligated to be here, but you know that the children love you. Even if they aren’t always so well behaved.”

You nod in acknowledgement, having had this conversation with her before. No matter the chaos the orphanage children might instil during sunlight, you always return, knowing that the kids truly mean well at the end of the day. Memories of blood bubble in your throat, your empathy digging too deeply in your past that you feel a sense of fear.

Quickly, you bid your leave, knowing that you should have long been back in your bed. God, if your mother finds out you’ve been loitering this late-

“Oh,” Sister Anya concedes, “of course, should I walk you back?”

Quickly, you shake your head, not wishing that she put herself at risk for your own sake. After once more asking over your assuredness, Sister Anya concedes, though her concern is not at all lacking. You know that the woods host a very numerous amount of creatures, though none have dared to ever bother you. The contrast has been so stark against the countless first-hand stories than you’ve heard that you’ve almost convinced yourself that you’re invisible to their otherworldly eyes, although you still hold healthy regard for what you might not understand.

Still, on the way back, all the negative attention you might receive is brief and fleeting, most crackling within the woods retreating as though you were about to set fire to the numerous dried foliage of the coming winter. Besides, your family estate is alarmingly close, you should be within the safety of its walls shortly after embarking, the sprites and critters almost obnoxiously ignoring your presence. Ever since… the incident, you haven’t needed to take the same precautions as the rest of your peers, and thus you manage to get yourself home earlier than someone might have estimated.

There is a lot to be happy about your life, you suppose, staring blankly up at the family portrait up on the wall. Happy mother. Happy father. Their absolute disgrace of an eldest child, which is you, unfortunately. You know that there are children in that abbey who would kill to have the same privileges you do, warm bed, food whenever you need, and water that doesn’t have a rusty undertaste of dirt, so you try not to feel… ungrateful.

You lick your lips, peeking out from the hall to check for anyone making their rounds, then quickly and quietly walk by the window towards your room. It’s late, so no one should be up, but that’s never stopped your mother when she’s in one of her worse moods, and just as you predicted, you hear her rapidly approach. Now entering panic mode, you move twice as quickly, slipping into your room and shutting the door quietly behind you.

Your muscles are stiff, fingers shaking, as you desperately try to pull the pins in your hair that kept everything marginally in place as you worked, knowing that you should be at least in your nightgown at this time. The scent of roses is thick, putrid, and always the choice of perfume for your mother. You suppose that it’s nice that you can at least smell her before she fully arrives, but now you can hardly look at those flowers without feeling a pinch of anxiety flowing through your chest.

The door wrenches open, your mother neither gentle nor willing to give you those extra precious moments where you might hide something. Your brush is in hand, and you are in the process of working through the knots that had accumulated through the day, but by the look of her face in the candlelight, your supposed innocence will be deeply in question.

“Where have you been?” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, it’s all you can do to not wince when she speaks.

I was at the orphanage, mother. You can’t even look her in the eye.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to work among those pathetic waifs, girl.”

Mother doesn’t even bother with your name, especially when she’s angry. And, judging by the tone of her voice, she’s incensed by something, only you don’t even know what it is she’s accusing you of, so you can’t even offer up any meagre defences.

“Did I say you were allowed to stay until the night turns to morning? What kind of a reputation are you trying to gain, you stupid, ungrateful child?”

The only ‘men’ in that orphanage are younger than eleven, but you know that this outburst isn’t at all over your chastity.

She raises her hand, and you flinch, but the strike doesn’t come this time. Instead, she walks up behind you, snagging the brush out of your hand and begins an aggressive grooming routine. “You should be grateful for what I give you and stop trying my patience. Everything I do for you is always met with silence, do you think the Bennet girls treat their poor mother like this? Or has the devil cursed me with you?”

You know that any attempt to escape her gnarled, rough fingers would be met with even more violence, so you sit still, digging your fingernails into the cushion of your chair. Everything in your body is on edge, your jaw is tight, your stomach still, all your muscles frozen in place to keep from crying out as the onslaught of your scalp continues. Silently resigned, you stare at yourself in the mirror, hating everything you see in the reflective glass.

“You would think that the gods would give me a child who shows a modicum of mercy for her poor mother, but no, all I get is this pathetic excuse of a lady. I know everyone goes behind my back and talks about what a joke you are, and yet you don’t even care enough about the person who put you into this world to even care enough to change.”

Your throat is dry, your eyes are not. Stubbornly, though, you refuse to give her tears, because she’ll only think that crying is a method of trying to guilt her into stopping. So you’re quiet, and you accept the onslaught of verbal terror, trying to let it all wash over you like water running over stones in a river.

“I should have never let you stay that summer with your grandfather, he put in all the wrong ideas in your head. And where did that get him, anyway? In a casket, six feet under.” Eventually, she tires herself out, as she always does. As she places the brushes back on the vanity, she notices the little jar of candies you like to keep around for both yourself and your younger siblings. Her brow furrows, and she takes it, “you don’t need to eat more than you already do.”

You don’t turn to watch her leave, letting the dull slamming of the door speak for itself. Once you’re certain she’s not going to come back for another round, you reach up and start braiding your hair for the night, fingers separating the strands and weaving them together. A strange sort of numbness takes over your body, a tugging emptiness draining your chest and veins of any life. When you lay your head on the pillow, there’s dampness on your cheek that you hadn’t noticed prior.

Luckily for you, in the morning, you are left to be ignored once more. You suppose that you are grateful that your mother only seeks you out when she is angry because that offers more freedom to do as you please when she isn’t. A strange thing to enjoy, but you are still willing to count your blessings nonetheless.

Every day goes by more or less the same. You pretend to be a fancy lady for the minimum amount of time, though thankfully you’re so often ignored you can slip away and head down to the orphanage. You have no official schedule of volunteering, since some days your mother is more persistently present than others, but the nuns are thankful for your appearance more or less.

And you tell yourself that you’re satisfied with everything. It’s a lie, and you know it’s a lie, but the moment you begin to move past that safe little untruth, you think your world will fall apart. So you wait. And you watch. And you’re silent.

The day your mother is uncharacteristically cheerful is the day you feel genuine fear.

She’s humming while going over the cook’s menu ideas. Humming. And she requested to see you… which… is rather unusual. As you walk in, you try to peek over her shoulder, though she shifts the papers ever so slightly out of your sight, offering a warning grunt in your direction. Still unsure of where she might be taking this nonexistent conversation, you take your book and sit on the other side of the table, trying to keep calm.

“There’s going to be a wedding,” she says in a sing-songy voice.

Normally, when your peers are wed off, she takes it like a personal attack, as though each girl is mocking your family by daring to marry before you. Now you’re even more nervous, trying to think over which of your siblings could be of marrying age. Surely they haven’t roped any poor waif into marrying your idiot brother, right?

“Tell me what colors you think would be appropriate for a spring ceremony,” she says, so dreamily it shakes you to your core.

You open your mouth, but your chest is so constricted by fear that it can’t possibly push air through your throat. Instead, you just look down and shrug, trying to steady yourself as you sit. God, you’re so hungry. That breakfast never really fills you up, but you never dare try to scavenge for more food in the daytime.

“I didn’t think you would have the good sense to know, anyways,” your mother dismisses your opinion with the wave of her hand. “A light lavender, maybe? Oh, perhaps daisies would be lovely, but that might seem too ‘country…’ or would that be fashionable?”

You nervously let her ramble, wishing you had it in you to just… get up. Leave. Go someplace where you would be alone and lie down. Your body itches to be surrounded by the greenery in the garden, let yourself become one with the earth. Never worrying about the court, about gentlemen of good breeding, or your mother again. She’s taking tea with biscuits, enough food on that platter to share, but you know better than to try to reach your hand over to grasp one.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and your mother even crueler. You don’t have much more warning than the click of your father’s office door as he and an unfamiliar person exit, and adrenaline laces along your veins. You don’t like how your mother looks at him, you don’t like how he looks at you, and you would very much like to no longer be perceived as a physical being. As your mother stands, you follow suit, just out of shock.

“Mr. Andreas,” your mother croons, a shiver of horror running down your spine.

The stranger nods, then glances over you with a critical kind of look, one that makes your insides squirm so uncomfortably you almost vomit.

“We’ve agreed to the terms,” your father says, then nods in your direction. “The wedding will be set in the spring.”

You’re dizzy, all the blood rushing from your head.

To make things worse, your mother is closer, the pungent scent of flowers invading your lungs with such a pervasive efficiency you can’t even breathe. She’s holding your hand, squeezing your pulse so tightly you know the blood is pooling out between her fingertips, and says, “say hello to your fiance, darling. Don’t be rude.”

It feels like a blink. A quick moment of absolutely nothing, your soul floating up above you like a spectre, and then you’re back. And in bed.

It’s dark outside, and a candle faithfully burns on the table by your bed. Leaning over, you blow it out, knowing that someone not nearly as blessed as you could use the precious light more. Your window rattles, a black shape writhing and clicking against the glass, but it doesn’t break through.

Your head feels empty, a thick, persistent kind of nothingness frying the different pathways to thought. Something important happened, something…. something you should be wary of, but it takes you quite a long time to remember the day’s events until a glimpse of that man’s smarmy face surfaces.

Engaged.

The word makes you gag, but there’s nothing in your stomach to retch. You have no clear idea of how long you’ve been in bed, but as you place your feet on the cold ground, a wave of empty dizziness fizzles through your head. It’s a hungry kind of dizziness, one where your body is at its last leg trying to keep itself upright.

There’s a hot, white pinching in your chest as you rise to a hand, legs and arms shaking like a leaf in a storm. Kitchen, you have to get to the kitchen, your vision blurry and faint. Still, you do your best to keep yourself together as you silently slip out of your room.

The halls are eerily silent, candlelight keeping the night’s terrors at bay. Servants occasionally make rounds to make sure the light doesn’t snuff itself out, but you’ve long timed the carefully coordinated efforts. Arms wrapped around your chest, you slowly make your way back to the kitchens, careful to dodge any straggling staff in the halls.

For the most part, the kitchen is rather modestly sized in comparison to the rest of the house, something the servants and cooks gripe about during the wasteful parties your parents throw to uphold some kind of ridiculous facade of class and wealth. But for you, in your occasional midnight snack, it’s just the right size to feel homely, but also with enough books and crannies for you to duck behind if someone unexpected makes a surprise cameo.

But today, it looks like the last person you wanted to see has been anticipating your visit though.

“Really,” your mother says, arms crossed, the steady glare of rage on her brow, “you faint to embarrass me and then, instead of apologizing, the first thing you think to do is to eat more?”

You swallow thickly, knowing you’re about to get an apocalyptic lecture.

“Look at yourself, girl,” your mother makes a wide, gestural sweep over your body, “your obsession with eating is what made you so difficult to marry in the first place. No one wants to marry a whale! And now that you think you’ve landed a man, you can settle back to your old bad habits?”

You shake your head, clammy and afraid.

“Of course not,” she doesn’t raise her voice, not once, and that somehow makes everything worse, “I told you all you needed was to lose those flaps at your waist, but you can’t even adhere to the diet I’ve set you on.”

If you faint again, she’s going to claim you only did so to guilt her, so you hold your dizzying head together with spit and empty determination. There’s a half-eaten loaf of bread covered on the stove, mocking you with its closeness, laughing at your desperation.

“Everything I do for you, and all you give me in return is your spiteful attitude.” She sighs dramatically and shakes her head. “Go back to bed, girl, I can’t even look at you without feeling disgusting. I don’t know how you can live the way you do.”

You don’t. But you accept the out, shakily wobbling back to your room, hearing your mother call out behind you.

“The engagement party is three days away. You know the rules.”

No sneaking food. Of course you do, she doesn’t allow you to forget it. You go back to your room and lay down on the bed, trying to ignore the painful punches in your starving stomach. Breakfasts in the morning. Breakfast in the morning. Breakfast in the morning.

The party is the epitome of everything you hate.

Bright, gaudy, the food so rich and plentiful despite the nearly starving children barely a mile away. Already you’re mentally calculating how much food you can sneak out to the abbey as soon as the night comes to a close, figuring that you might even be able to make two trips if you truly had to. Sister Anya would protest against you moving through the night, but you’ve never had any issues with the sprites.

Folding your hands together, you try to remain present in the moment, but you quickly find your fingernails scratching invisible streaks down your arms, landing on the palm of your hand... to the mark on your wrist. The doctor speculated that it must have been some kind of chemical burn, mostly because there seemed to be no other explanation about it. A toxic liquid spilt onto your wrist when you were wandering somewhere you weren’t supposed to be, and so now you must bear the speculations and the whispers whenever someone new catches a glimpse of the marking.

It’s an odd kind of thing, all angles and thin lines, coalescing in a shape that seems too particular and sharp to be an accidental blob. When you press your thumb down and close your eyes, though, you can see the exact moment you received it, smell the harsh sanitized basement, but somehow catch a whiff of summer lavender.

Could this be your emergency?

Quickly, you try to fill your mind with a thousand other thoughts, flooding your head to the point that scent is once again a distant memory. Everything that followed that day was filled to the brim with misfortune and misery, and you don’t wish to relive it in the slightest. Not until you absolutely have to.

Your mother is right, the duke is only interested in the land your father offers. To her, though, that’s some kind of blessing. For you, however, seated at the table, it feels like the darkest wickedness. Only once does that man glance in your direction, and you can see his nose briefly wrinkle as he silently dresses you down, as though he feels that fucking you would be some kind of burden that he would skip if allowed.

Everything about him fills you up with a strange sense of terror. It’s the way he holds himself, you think, looking over his posture and general facial expression. Tall. High. He might not be the largest man in the room, but he certainly acts the part, stepping over those he doesn’t necessarily deem to be equal.

To your parents though, that’s just a sign of good breeding. Something that you somehow don’t possess, even though ancestry is theoretically squeaky clean. Through your eyelashes, you observe him, lips glued shut with the waxy lipstick smeared against them. You want to crawl out of your skin, melt into the floorboards, fade into the wall, but you’re stuck in place beneath your mother’s critical glare.

Knowing exactly what she might be thinking, you try to mingle, but everyone has long learned that you’re not the type for conversation. Your search for a discussion amounts to you wandering circles around the ballroom, doing your best to seem interested in what’s going on, but ultimately being ignored.

Eventually, you end up back at the table, filled to the brim with foods so decadent and delicious your mouth waters at the scent. Cautiously, you look over your shoulder as you reach down, to find your mother staring at you from a nearby corner. Your hand freezes, and you retract it, almost ashamed.

The mark on your wrist throbs, gently reminding you of a possibility you can allow yourself to have.

Biting down on your tongue, you merely pour yourself some of the lemon flavored water laid out to the side, hoping to fill your stomach if only for a few moments. Everything is too bright, too much, you’re drowning in the absence of everything you could possibly want.

Even though you know your mother will be at her wit’s end, you snag a champagne flute and decide to go back to your room. The bubbles burn as you drink the flute down faster than should be done, retreating back through the crowded hallway. On your way out, you see a servant carrying another tray of alcohol, and you recklessly switch out your empty cup.

Bitterness swells in your throat. You don’t fucking deserve this, you never have. A part of you wants to burn the mansion down and let the sweeping darkness devour the ashes, but you’ve never had the courage or smarts to pull such a feat off. You spot another platter of champagne and make the trade once more.

Just as you begin sipping the brightly flavored alcohol, you bump into someone sturdy. Hard, dark, tall… your fiancé, unfortunately, you notice. Quickly, you lose all confidence you had been building up and instead curtsy out an apology.

“When your father said you were as quiet as a mouse I didn’t think it was possible,” he laughs, almost good naturally, “I didn’t think a woman could be quiet even if her life depended on it.”

The tops of your ears flare.

“But this is a nice surprise, I think it might make up for your other shortcomings.” He waves his hand in your face, as though you are deaf, not mute, then laughs again. “I suppose we’ll see whether or not you can squeal on the wedding night.”

An almost extinct temper raises its ugly head, you’re furious, but above all else, you’re embarrassed. The alcohol makes your anger boil over more, and to add insult to injury, he doesn’t seem to take the hint to stop talking.

“At least you wouldn’t be able to complain. I hate it when women think they deserve to be heard.” And just like that, he abandons you, wandering off towards a group of people you recognize as your neighbors.

Angrily, you drink more of the champagne, going up the stairs and trying to keep yourself calm. But you’re not calm, you’re furious. At yourself, at your parents, and at that babyfaced ass who has the audacity to mock you in the middle of your joint engagement party. By the time you get to your room, your face is hot and boiling with rage, the empty champagne flute mindlessly left on some random surface, and you bury yourself in the bed. You’ve drunk a fat more tonight than you have in years.

You can’t call a servant to help you out of this satin nightmare, not without your mother being informed, so you’re stuck trying to dislocate both your shoulders in order to reach at the strings lacing the top together. Nothing seems to be working, and you are getting more and more frustrated with your progress, each fucking second wasted on your struggles, making you more upset at the overall predicament.

And then, a thought.

Your drunken mind thinks it’s brilliant. The last thread of your sanity warns you that it’s stupid. But both parties involved agree that it would be very, very funny.

Your thumb finds the mark on your wrist.

Call an eternal being forth just to untie your corset? Absolutely ludicrous. Stupid, even. But definitely hilarious. At least, your drunken mind thinks it’s funny. Slowly, you trace the mark around with your indent finger, your eyesight blurry with drink.

Touch the mark. You place two of your fingers against the pulse of your wrist. Recite my name. Three times, unbroken.

It’s not an incredibly complicated ritual. You’ve recited it in your head many times, staring out of your window, tongue making the motions in your mouth. One favor, you get only but one favor, and every single day you’ve had to deal with another one of your mother’s lectures, your father’s criticism, or some other critical motion from most other people in your life, you’ve thought of him.

But now, while drunk, and after the party, it seems like a fine time to bring him forth from the Otherworld. If only to cause a bit of much-needed chaos. You close your eyes, urging your tongue to move, and you say-

“Étienne. Étienne. Étienne.”

Nothing happens. There is an overwhelming silence, one that causes your body to collapse further into the mattress, your brain slowly shutting itself off in a desperate attempt to sleep off the inordinate amount of alcohol that you’ve consumed. Your tongue and mouth are dry, almost as though they were stuffed with towels and cloth, a hazy exhaustion blocking your vision from comprehension.

And you’re asleep.

You don’t exactly know how long you were asleep for, only that you wake up with a throat as dry as the Dark Desert, lips cracked and bleeding, wrist tingling almost painfully like a thousand little pins are piercing into your flesh, though your face is oddly wet. The candle flickers at your side, likely lit by a servant, illuminating red dampness left on your pillow. A headache pinches between your eyes as you try to process those different elements.

“Here,” a smooth, low voice says, a gloved hand offering up a linen handkerchief.

You accept it, then realize who the hand belongs to. Quickly, you scoot yourself back right up to your headboard, spine pressing almost uncomfortably against the heavy wood.

He’s silent for a moment, eyes so dark and blue you feel like they’re sucking you in as though they’re a whirlpool, and you’re adrift in an ocean clinging to a piece of wood. Then he laughs, shockingly youthfully, hand over his mouth as you yank the handkerchief out from his fingers, pushing it up to your nose to catch the continuous drip of blood. Your mouth tastes like hot copper laid out in the sun, and droplets of redstart swimming in your vision.

“My dear,” he says, cocking his head to the side, curiously, “you called me here.”

“No I di-” fuck, the memory of what must have been only a fe hours prior swimming upward in your mind. “Well, I didn’t mean it.”

“Unfortunately whatever your intentions are, I cannot leave until your wish is fulfilled.” Luckily, he doesn’t seem at all annoyed. Only mildly disinterested in what your problems might be.

“Can’t you just go back?” You ask, voice losing its rasp as you swallow a mouthful of blood.

“That’s not how this works,” he says, almost disappointed in your desperate attempts to make him leave.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You’re shaking,” He observes, settling on the edge of your bed.

It’s as though the spirit of your mother possesses your body, vomiting out a sentence about your chastity as a lady, “there’s a man in my room, at night, with no chaperone present.”

A perfectly manicured eyebrow pops up. “You know I cannot hurt you.”

“It’s not about you, it’s- it’s about my reputation as a lady-”

The other eyebrow follows suit, and he’s looking at you so sceptically it appears he thinks this is some sort of trick. He reaches over and grabs hold of your hand, drawing your wrist close as to double-check for the mark. “I don’t remember you being such a meek little thing.”

“I was ten the last time we met.” You say, trying to keep your voice even.

“And you bit me, if I remember correctly.” And he smiles, as though the memory of a precocious child is somehow a fond one.

This can’t be happening, you can’t be having this conversation with him. A conversation. Talking. You swallow thickly, raking your nails through your scalp, trying to breathe. “I was only trying to defend myself! You- you ki- you killed-”

“He deserved it,” he says, and you are unfortunately inclined to agree.

You can’t tell if the droplet of liquid running down the side of your cheek is blood or sweat. Taking in a shaking, angry breath, and you stare down at your hands, eyes stinging. Ah, tears, okay. This is fine. Everything is fine.

“Ah, darling, I’ve forgotten myself.” He reaches over, and you flinch, so he quickly retracts his hand. “Let’s try again. What do you want from me?”

You think back to all the tiny, ugly little pinpricks of insults you’ve garnered every goddamn day of your life since the incident. You think about your husband to be, you think about your mother, you think about your long-dead grandfather. Everything hurts. Everything is wrong. Slowly, you close your eyes and breathe, trying to keep yourself together, just for another few moments.

“I’m to be married to a nearby heir,” you say.

He cocks his head.

“I don’t want to be.”

[loveisnotadagger]

Love is Healing - Chapter Four

Chapter 4/?

Warning: There is a brief mention of when Loki let go of Thor's hammer when he was hanging from the Rainbow Bridge and how he had basically tried to kill himself by doing that. It's literally maybe three sentences, but it's there if that triggers something for you.

The only thing Loki really saw was the girl – no, Arianna; he remembered her name now. She has shoulder-length, honey blond hair, much like the color of his mother's hair, and bright ocean-blue eyes. That was all he noticed at that point and that was only because she was standing over him.

He took her in within the few seconds it took for his pain to register and then he felt as if he couldn't breathe. So intense was his agony that he couldn't even find the strength to scream out loud even though he knew he'd opened his mouth to do just that.

"Your ribs were broken," Arianna said. "I couldn't heal them completely. I'm sorry. I know it must be extremely painful."

She went on to tell him every other thing she'd found that needed to be healed. He no longer had any bruises, and she had healed his lungs, which had been damaged by the broken ribs.

"What you really need is food and water."

"Food sounds wonderful," Loki admitted weakly.

He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd eaten. He did, however, remember that when he'd been under the control of Thanos he would sometimes miss many days' worth of meals when he wouldn't cooperate.

"I think we should start with broth. See how well that stays down before we give you solid food."

Before Loki could reply the door to the room opened.

Loki hadn't been paying attention before, but now that he could focus on something other than pain, he realized he had no idea where he was.

He would have to worry about that later, however, because the only thing that mattered at the moment was that he was weak and in pain, and the person who had opened the door was the man who could turn into a beast.

Loki had never moved so quickly in his life. It caused him more pain, but he didn't care. This man wasn't going to get hold of him again. He wouldn't survive another round of being smashed around.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting to his feet and running, using whatever strength he had left to push past Banner and get away.

"Loki," Arianna exclaimed, but he ignored her.

A sharp pain went through his chest and it had nothing to do with physical wounds. He'd trusted Arianna as much as he could trust anyone. He'd allowed her to lead him out of his tormented mind only to have him awake here with the one being in the whole of Midgard that had been able to hurt him.

As soon as Loki's feet hit the floor, he stood up only to fall right back down. The pain that fired throughout his body took his breath away and jarred him enough to break through his adrenaline-addled body.

So he couldn't even stand? How was he to escape his fate if he couldn't walk?

"Loki," the girl whispered, kneeling beside him. "I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. I didn't betray you, and Bruce will not hurt you. He has no reason to now."

Loki didn't respond vocally, but when Banner tried to help him stand and sit back on the bed Loki allowed it without complaint. The doctor was surprisingly careful and gentle with him.

"He needs water and food," Arianna said. "Broth to start off with. He is extremely malnourished."

Banner nodded. "I'll have Tony get something brought here. What should I tell Thor and –"

"They'll want to see him."

Loki noticed that Arianna was looking at him. She wasn't dictating that they had to see him. She was giving him a choice. He could decide for himself.

He gave a quick nod and Banner left. Only a few seconds passed before both Thor and his mother flooded into the room.

"Loki. My son," Frigga said and sprinted to his bedside. "You're awake."

"Careful," Arianna said. "He's still in pain. I wasn't able to heal him as fully as I wanted to."

"He is able to be awake," Thor said. "That is enough."

"Okay, well . . . I'll leave you guys to it."

Loki stiffened when Arianna touched his shoulder, but she didn't remove her hand.

"I'll be back shortly with some water and your food." ----------

Once outside the room, Arianna slid down to the floor with her back against the wall. She was exhausted mentally and physically. She'd had to break through Loki's defenses and she'd had to fight against Thanos. If he was that powerful in Loki's mind, she hoped she never came across him in real life.

She'd been anxious to get outside and help the victims of the earlier battle, but now she was glad she had to wait. She probably couldn't hold up against a flea at the moment.

Unbidden, tears stung her eyes. What was she doing? What had she been doing for the past however many hours? She'd been helping a criminal. True, Loki had been through a lot, but did that matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Who knew what he'd done before he'd been tortured? Maybe he'd been bad all along. She didn't know.

A quiet sob escaped her and she clapped a hand over her mouth. She would not do this here where just anyone could walk by and see her.

"Aries?"

A figure hovered over her – short, dressed in black, red hair. Natasha – before sitting down with her. Arianna should have known that Natasha would be nearby. There was no way Tash would've gone far knowing her friend was in the other room with a psychopath.

"What's wrong? Did Loki hurt you?"

"No. Loki can barely sit up or stand. He's . . . he's – if he'd been human before now, he'd be dead."

"But he's not."

"No. I helped him a little bit . . . he's not him. Or . . . maybe he's more himself than ever. I don't know. But he's not the guy who tried to take over the world."

"That's a good thing. Why are you crying?"

"Because he's been through a lot, Tash. And I felt some of it. And I'm tired, and I just can't do anything else today."

"Then don't. You always push yourself too hard and then you end up feeling awful for days."

Arianna knew that was true, but she also knew she had several reasons for doing so. Because her best friend was a superhero, whether Natasha believed that or not, Arianna felt the need to prove that she was as useful as the other Avengers. She couldn't actually fight the bad guys, but she could clean up their messes. That was her job – or it had been until now.

"Am I crazy for wanting to heal him?" she asked. "I mean, I feel it was the right thing to do, but –"

"It is unprecedented," Natasha said. "But you also wouldn't be you if you didn't want to help. Just because he's a villain doesn't mean he can't also be a victim."

"He is," Arianna said. "He is a victim."

Natasha smiled softly. "Sometimes you care too much, Aries. Sometimes I think you're in the wrong line of work." ---------- Inside the room, Frigga was apologizing to Loki.

"Why did you not say anything before I stripped you of your powers?"

"I did not wish for you to know," Loki said.

What Loki wished was for Thor and Frigga to leave him alone. He was sitting up to save face, but he needed to lie back down. It was physically hurting him to stay upright.

And where was Arianna? He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he felt just a bit better with her in the room, and he would definitely need her with him once his mother and brother left. None of the other hero-types would dare touch him with her present.

Just as he was getting close to keeling over, Arianna came in. She was balancing a tray with a bottle of water and a steaming bowl of what Loki assumed was the broth she'd mentioned earlier.

"Hey," she said. "I got some vegetable soup and, obviously, water. You should lie down. I've got you covered."

She gestured to the tray she was holding. It had two legs that came down, one on either side.

Loki relaxed against the mattress, but he couldn't say he felt any more comfortable at all.

Arianna placed the tray down, one leg on either side of him, and then she reached down on the side of the bed. There was a small click and then then head of the bed was moving upward.

Loki stiffened. What kind of magic was this?

"It's just a hospital bed, Loki," Arianna said. "It'll help support you while you eat."

The soup looked good and smelled even better. He was so hungry, though, that the smell almost turned his stomach.

"Don't force yourself to eat, but you do need water. Drink it slowly or you'll get sick."

Why was she being so nice to him? What did she want?

"How long are you going to stay?" Arianna asked, looking at Thor and Frigga. "Not that you have to go, but you probably made the records with that energy spike you let loose by coming to this realm."

"In the morning when you begin the healing sessions again, we will leave," Frigga said. "You need to sleep and someone will need to stay with Loki."

"I am not a child," Loki said. "No one needs to stay."

That was a complete and utter lie. He needed someone with him because he really couldn't do for himself at the moment. The only thing that had been keeping the pain at bay had been his magic, and now he didn't even have that.

And . . . Arianna was going to continue to heal him? Why? For what purpose?

"Why would you do this for me?"

Arianna smiled softly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I tried to destroy this city," he responded as if it were obvious.

"You didn't want to destroy it. You wanted to rule it."

Those were his own words from earlier and now she was throwing them back at him. Before he could respond, however, Arianna saw her way out of the room.

Both Thor and Frigga had small grins on their lips and Loki rolled his eyes.

Loki didn't find anything funny about having his words thrown back at him. In fact, it only made him remember her earlier words. She'd wanted him to help save her city even though he'd been the one to bring destruction down upon it.

Lost in his own thoughts, Loki was surprised when warm liquid filled his mouth. It was the vegetable soup. It had a savory flavor as if it had been made with chicken broth.

His mother had brought a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Thankfully, Thor had already gone; Frigga must've sent him away.

Loki was able to eat a few of the vegetables, but he stuck mostly to the broth. He was able to finish his water, however. ---------- Down in the lobby area, Arianna and the other Avengers were lounging around on the furniture, waiting for word on what they were supposed to do next.

Director Fury had called Tony to schedule a meeting, which just meant they'd been given about a five-minute heads up on Fury's arrival. He'd probably gotten readings of energy when Frigga had arrived on the balcony of Stark Tower.

What if he found out they were harboring Loki there? What if Fury already knew?

They would try to take Loki away and Arianna didn't know if she would allow that, not without healing him first. If she intervened, however, they would probably take her away too. They would arrest her for aiding and abetting – or they would try to. Natasha would probably stand by her and Clint would too, not because they cared what happened to Loki, but because they cared what happened to her; Thor would help her if only so she could continue helping Loki; Tony would stand by her just to make Fury angry.

The only wild card was Steve Rogers. If he thought them taking Loki was the right thing to do, he would let them.

Bruce wouldn't want to be involved at all.

When Fury arrived, Arianna basically shrank into herself. He was one of the most intimidating men she'd ever met. It had nothing to do with his height or the fact that he wore an eyepatch. It had everything to do with the way he carried himself. He had a no-nonsense attitude along with all the confidence in the world.

He could back that confidence up, too. He had the power and ability to do pretty much whatever he wanted, and he usually did whatever he had to do to get a job done.

"Where is he?" were the first words that came out of Fury's mouth.

"Where's who?" Tony asked.

"Don't play dumb with me. Where's the one who killed Coulson?"

"He is hurt," Arianna said softly. "And he can't be moved."

"Can't be moved? If I were to try and take him from here, who would stop me?"

Thor was the first to step up and then it was Arianna. Standing next to the god of thunder, Arianna didn't think Fury was all that frightening. Tony stood by her as Arianna had thought he would.

Natasha and Clint hesitated, but Natasha did say, "Director, from what Agent Grace says Loki was tortured into submission. He was promised more pain if he didn't obey."

"And did Loki just offer up this information freely?" asked Fury, sarcasm lacing his voice.

"Not exactly," Arianna said.

And here was the turning point. She could either fess up and be turned into a weapon or she could keep quiet about everything and let Fury find Loki and take him away.

"Director Fury, I saw into his mind. I . . . didn't want to, but –"

"You what?"

"It's complicated," she said.

"I suggest you uncomplicate it," Fury demanded.

"I manipulate energy, Director. That's how I heal, and you know that. I can do pretty much anything I put my mind to."

"Like reading minds . . ."

"It was more like I could see what was in the forefront of his mind, and I didn't mean to do it. Our energies merged together and I just did."

"Why wasn't I made aware of this? Do you know how much you could do?"

"Yes, and that's why I didn't let you know. I mean, I'm basically a power source – like the Tesseract, and you wanted to make nuclear weapons out of that. I refuse to be used for destruction."

Arianna was aware she was exaggerating a bit. She couldn't really do anything she set her mind to, but she could do a lot. She had never really practiced, though, and she didn't really want to. She was fine not knowing how much she was capable of. She could heal people and that was enough for her.

"We have everything under control here," Tony said. "The guy is contained and no longer a threat."

"The energy readings you received earlier were from another Asgardian coming into our realm, sir," Natasha said. "Thor's and Loki's mother. She stripped Loki of his powers, so he really is harmless."

"He's mortal now," Thor said.

"He's still a terrorist and needs to be taken into custody," Fury stated.

"Not until he's better," Arianna said. "Give me a week."

"A week and he'll be better? Strong enough to be moved?"

"Yes. There are emotional traumas as well, but I can't really mend those."

"Well, we have psychologists to deal with that," Fury said. "You have a week, Agent."

Without further ado, Fury walked out the same way he came in.

"Thor, do you mind getting me the Tesseract? I can't actually heal Loki in a week, not by myself."

"What do you intend to do with it?" Thor asked, not suspicious but curious.

"Borrow energy." ---------- Loki was lying down and trying to sleep when Arianna came back to his room. He'd thought she was gone for the night but he'd obviously been wrong.

Thor was with her and he was carrying the container that held the Tesseract. What were they doing with it? He'd failed in his mission, and he couldn't get the Tesseract to Thanos now that he was mortal.

"We have a problem," Arianna said. "Fury wants to take Loki away. I bought us some time, but . . ."

"But?" Frigga asked.

"He only gave me a week." Arianna looked at Loki. "You don't want to be hurt when they take you from here. They might not hurt you further, but they won't take the time to heal you either."

"Are you sure no one would harm him?" Thor asked. "When Fury had him before, he asked me to . . . torture Loki to get information. He didn't seem to like it when I refused."

Arianna wasn't surprised when she found out Fury had suggested torture, but it had been different then. Fury didn't need information anymore and they already had the Tesseract.

"I want to spend another couple of hours healing you tonight. I can't heal the lashes until the infection leaves your body, but I can take the burns away, as long as you don't fight me this time."

"Of course I won't fight you," Loki said. "I don't think I was the one blocking your power last time."

Thanos, Arianna thought. Of course.

"Okay. I'm gonna need the room again," she told Thor and Frigga. ---------- "Oh, why isn't this working?" Arianna cried as she tried for the fifth time to draw the Tesseract's power into herself. "I did it without a problem earlier."

"Earlier you had not depleted your own energy," Loki said. "Your body is simply tired, as is your mind."

Loki had been watching her struggle for over thirty minutes now. Perhaps he was not meant to be healed that night. Pain was not new to him, so he could endure it.

"How did you end up with Thanos?" Arianna asked softly.

"I was . . . I fell off the Rainbow Bridge in Asgard."

"The what?"

"It's a bridge to other realms. When used with the Bifrost, it can take you anywhere in an instant."

"Oh."

Loki explained that he and Thor had been fighting and then Thor had destroyed the Bifrost. Both Loki and Thor had been hanging over the edge and Odin had stepped in. Odin had grabbed onto Thor and Loki had grabbed onto Thor's hammer. Loki had let go.

"And you woke up in a hell dimension?"

"If I'd had it my way, I wouldn't have woken up anywhere."

Arianna froze where she sat with the Tesseract in front of her, the blue cube shining bright but its power still not accessible to her.

"You wanted to kill yourself?"

Instead of answering directly, Loki said, "When I was a child I would spar with Thor. We had little toy swords and battle armor for children. He always won due to brute strength. Odin would pit us against each other in all things physical until I eventually just stopped fighting him."

"Did Odin get angry?"

"Yes."

Loki didn't know what he was doing. He shouldn't have said any of that. He didn't open up to people and especially not to people he'd just met. He blamed it on the pain he was in and the gratitude he tried not to feel for this girl for caring enough to help him. The extreme exhaustion didn't help him hold his tongue either.

"So, Thor is a warrior," Arianna said. "And you? What did you like to do?"

Loki was surprised to find Arianna was looking at him with open curiosity. She wasn't just asking. She really wanted to know.

"I spent most of my time in the library or studying magic with my mother, which made me an outsider."

"Why?"

"In Asgard men are expected to know how to fight. That's how they are recognized as men. It's how they are ranked. If you don't know how to fight, it is frowned upon."

"But you know how to fight."

"Yes, but not the way Thor does. He's stronger and bigger. I can't just punch my way out of a situation."

"Oh. And magic? What do they think of that?"

"It's considered underhanded. I can fight hand-to-hand if I must, but magic is my strength. I use it when I fight."

"I see nothing wrong with that."

"Of course not. You're a woman."

Loki noticed his remark made Arianna tense up and he realized how condescending he must've sounded.

"I assure you I didn't mean that the way I said it. I only meant that it was normal for women to study magic. Not so for men. There are very few warriors who are female."

"Hm. I hate fighting, so I would fit right in there. And I don't consider what I do to be magic. Others might see it as such because they don't understand how it's done, but . . . to me it's as natural as breathing. Or it normally is."

Loki realized that he knew next to nothing about this girl – and to him she was a girl. He was almost fifteen-hundred-years-old and she was probably twenty-five at the oldest.

Loki had been able to look into the other Avengers before he'd even attempted to fight them. Since Arianna had been called in only slightly before the attack on the city, he hadn't thought to ask Barton about her. He hadn't even known she existed.

She was by far the most interesting of the Avengers. She had so much power yet to look at her made one think otherwise. She was treating him like a friend would even though they couldn't be friends. They barely knew each other.

"Why're you being so nice to me?"

"Why not?"

That was the same answer she'd given earlier when he'd asked her why she was doing everything she could to heal him. It was infuriating.

"Don't give me that. I tried to take over your world. I destroyed half this city. You have every right to hate me. Aren't you angry? Do you not want revenge?"

To Loki's surprise, the girl laughed softly.

"You forget, Loki, that I saw into your mind. I know enough to know that your psyche was messed with enough to twist you into something you really aren't. And you're right. I could hate you, but I choose not to. Hate is a poison, one of the most lethal kinds.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling that you hate yourself enough for everyone. We don't need to do it for you."

For some reason, unknown even to Loki, her response made rage flow through his veins.

"Why do you care?" he almost yelled. "What are you getting out of this?"

Loki noticed with some satisfaction that Arianna had flinched when he'd raised his voice. That was when he realized the conundrum that was Arianna. She was both one of the boldest and most easily frightened people he'd ever met. She didn't care for confrontation, but she wasn't afraid to tell anyone what was on her mind either.

"I care because . . . I don't know. I don't really have a good reason. I just care about people. I don't like seeing people hurting or suffering when they don't need to."

This she said softly, as if she were trying not to wake a sleeping child, but then she looked at Loki more seriously, almost glaring.

"As for what I'm getting out of it, it's peace of mind. I don't help people just because they need help. I help because I can, because I have the power to. I find it revolting that there are so many people in this world who can help but choose not to.

"So to ease your troubled mind, this has nothing to do with you. I'm trying to heal you for the sole purpose that you are suffering and I can end it. It makes me feel better when I help those in need.

"Now if you don't mind, please shut up. I'm trying to work."

[dreamii-yume]

Ohh Queen Yume you've opened the floodgates!! Which guys would be head over heels over a gorgeous, kind sensei!MC?? Who would feel conflicted about their feelings and who are shameless enough to try to pursue her?

“Tell the guards to open up...THE GATES~”

EVERYONE (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀) fight me with this one, Darlings.

Everyone would be up our Darling Sensei’s ass, I BET YOU MY LIFE SUPPORT. The better question at this point would be asking which wouldn’t be attracted to a beautiful Sensei lol

Riddle would act as if it’s the end of the world as falling in love with a teacher is a huge violation of many rules. Though he sometimes slips up with little gestures that makes him stutter and blush uncharacteristically, he can hide his emotions very well. He will try to kill these forbidden feelings, but doing so just breaks his heart. He secretly wants you to come and save him, recognizing him like he does withyou.

Deuce would be ashamed for falling in love with a teacher, how can he tell his mother about this? He came here to become a model student, not to become so attached to his own instructor. He tries to hide as much as he can but he’s a blushing mess with just the slightest attention from you, anyone could instantly tell what’s up. It’s just a matter of time before Sensei herself realized this precious boy’s feelings.

Jack is conflicted. Why was he feeling this way towards his teacher out of all people available? I see him as someone who fully respects you, he’ll be less violent and even if you haven’t noticed, you already got him perfectly tamed. He’ll keep his feelings for himself and wouldn’t ever plan to tell anyone. Though people have been noticing how slightly protective he’s being with you, of course he’ll violently deny them all. But sometimes it can’t be helped, his own tail would involuntary sway back and forth so excitedly if you go as far as to graze him.

Sebek doesn’t seem to like it, poor boy is just really confused. He should already be dedicated to his young master, he doesn’t need these silly feelings to add to his plate! You’re a teacher! You’re a person that he should respect and pay attention to for knowledge but instead, he’s disgusted at the way you haunt his dreams every night! He can’t believe he’s already falling in love with a human like you! Stop making him feel all giddy on the inside, it’s some sort of spell, isn’t it!?

Poor Idia just can’t take a break, can he? When he’s already stuck in a school full of self-centered brats, how dare you come and knock at his closed-off, introverted heart? He knew these kinds of scenarios from all the dating sims he’ve played but never in his life had he thought that he will find himself in the same situation. That being said, he’s still anxious to come and talk to you personally, his tablet was one way but even that doesn’t feel enough. He might really be going crazy as he starts to want to go outside just to meet you...

Silver can’t seem to put two and two together, he couldn’t quite figure out why his heart was beating so fast for his Darling Sensei. He would ask his father for any explanation but wouldn’t get anything out of it but a simple chuckle. That’s fine, something tells him that he wouldn’t be able to trust his advices anyway. Whatever it is, he’s quite fond of it and he doesn’t seem to care much, he does become really sad when you’re away though.

As we already established, Ace can be quite shameless when it comes to his feelings. He won’t outright say what he feels for you, but he’ll constantly flirt and tease you when he has the chance. Don’t be surprised when you begin to notice him actually trying to cope a feel or looking up your skirt because that’s just him. Also, be careful, he’s very prone to using dirty handed tricks to capture your attention.

Leona is another shameless one, he doesn’t care about status, if he sees a prey, it’s just natural for him to bite from the neck, right? What’s wrong with being a little older? He’s not even that young compared to these useless herbivore, he’s the best that you can get. It wouldn’t be much of an exaggeration to say that your class might just be the only class that Leona wouldn’t skip. Mainly because he might miss some exclusive view of you, like when your skirt would hitch up every time you bend over to grab something. He wouldn’t hesitate to grope either, that ass is just too tempting not to bite to at least once.

Floyd is difficult to deal with, since he’s likely the most shameless one out of the bunch. He doesn’t care about you being a teacher, Sensei is Sensei regardless! He’ll bother you at every opportunity he gets and at every place he sees you at. He’ll make excuses to meet you up, even going as far as to skip class just so you could take the effort and search for him. It bothers you a little that this particular student of yours constantly keeps asking questions about your lectures even if he always seems to already know the answer.

I’d say Malleus would also be shameless but he doesn’t actually realize that he’s being one. Forgive him for acting so strangely possessive and clingy around you, following you everywhere like a lost baby animal. It’s just that he’s not familiar with having romantic feelings with someone, let alone a mere human. He doesn’t see anything special in your role as a teacher, he had lived much, much longer than you after all.

Lilia is amused, to think that someone as wise as him had actually fallen in love with someone who was supposed to be his ‘teacher’. Never in his long life had he found himself in this kind of situation, it’s interesting! It’s not like it’s a problem anyway, you are nothing more than a child compared to his actual age, you’re just a mortal teaching him stuff that he already knew. But it doesn’t hurt to take advantage of his youthful appearance now, does it? Lilia’s excited to know where this relationship can go.

Sometimes, Trey and Jamil just doesn’t feel like a student to you. Being a lot more mature than the other students, you just can’t help but to rely on them for a lot of things. Maybe that’s probably why you’ll never notice how deeply in love these two are with you, they’re just that good when it comes to hiding emotions. They’ll give subtle hints here and there and Trey, most likely, might even flirt with you at some point but you’ll be so familiar with him by now that you wouldn’t even mind. I’d say Trey’s a bit on the shameless side, but not in a way that makes him clingy while Jamil is the type to just keep quiet but secretly and skillfully making moves.

Cater is categorized as shameless when it comes to expressing his feelings, but when Darling’s a teacher, things becomes a little...complicated. Don’t get him wrong, he’ll be the same as always, so talkative and energetic around you, even calling out for you with a cute nickname. He’ll even flirt like you’re the same age as him but he would always make it seem like a joke. If you’re a teacher, he’ll also be very careful about posting something about you in his Magicam, he knows how this works anyway. One word out that you’re becoming too close with a particular student, you’ll risk losing your job. Cater doesn’t want that happening anytime soon, but just know that he can make it happen too if he absolutely needs to. Until then, it’s all good and dandy!

Ruggie wouldn’t be guilty nor conflicted about his feelings, but he wouldn’t be as shameless as to scream out his feelings to everyone around him. No, only an idiot will do that and it’s embarrassing so, no thank you. Instead, he can play the long game, he’s a patient guy despite how he looks. Besides, he’s used to these kinds of stuff by now so it’s not that much different~! Expect many coincidences with him in it though!

Azul appears to be very calm on the inside, always helping you out whenever you need him without asking for anything in return. That’s what he is, a simp a gracious student ready to help his dear teacher out any time! But that’s what you think, in reality, he’s just desperately trying to earn your favor by being your “Yes-man”. He believes that if he became the goodest boy in your eyes, you’ll be able to love him as much as he does with you. Although, just expect a few tears and tantrums when he doesn’t get his way though.

Jade is so different from his brother that it surprises you that they’re even twins in the first place. He respects your boundaries, even if he wanted nothing more than to become as shameless as his other half. He’s very active when it comes to your lessons too, always paying attention with the greatest interest. He even serves you tea as refreshments and helps you with work if he feels as if you’re overworking yourself. He’s not really the type to care whether you’re a teacher, “I wonder~?” He’ll be very vague about it if anyone dares to ask but if you look closely, that smile says it all.

Kalim wouldn’t be able to recognize his feelings for a really long time. He’ll think it’s just normal to feel this way, for his heart to beat this fast, for his face to heat up, for thoughts of you to flow through his head even at night. But when he does, all those times he shamelessly clung to you and talked to you will come back to attack him all at once. He’ll actually lower down his affection levels because he was told that liking a teacher is bad and it might actually cost you your job. But it’s so difficult! It wouldn’t hurt to spend...a little more time with you, would it!?

Vil thinks it’s stupid of him and of you. He thinks he’s stupid for falling in love with someone like you, his own teacher, it’s unbelievable how low his standards had become. But at the same time, he thinks you’re stupid for not being able to understand why he fell in love with you in the first place too. Despite the salt of falling in love with someone like you of all people, it doesn’t change the fact the he’ll keep on striving to become the best for you. He wants you to notice him, notice his improvements, and make you feel how lucky you are for catching his attention, so would you try and look at him in a different way for once?

Rook just loves anyone and anything, does he? Everything is beautiful in his eyes and yet, there was something about you that shines the brightest amongst all others. There should be no shame in expressing his feelings, he’ll shout it out loud to world. His eccentric personality is working against his favor too, even if honestly and openly admitted his feelings towards you with everyone, no one will actually take it seriously. But what others perceives to be true isn’t always true, Darling.

I’m not quite sure where to put Epel in all of this, something’s telling me that he would be on the shameless side only if he’s willing to show his much more aggressive side. However, I can imagine him being worried to show that side to you, since you were already put under the impression that he’s a dainty, gentle boy. Although he doesn’t like being treated like he’s the most fragile thing of all people, he can’t deny the attention he gets from you whenever he’s acting like this. Epel doesn’t really seem to care if you’re a teacher in all of this, he knew that it’s not good but he’s determined. Once he graduates, he’ll definitely make a move on you so, just you wait...!

Before I knew it, I made something for every character holy shi- my teacher kink is terrifying.

Also, yes, Darlings! Yume changed her usename from “amai-no-yume” to “dreamii-yume”! ( ＾∀＾) To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect to like posting sins in tumblr this much ヽ(；▽；) So I ended picking such a half-ass username! But now, I decided to change it to something hopefully cuter and more appropriate! ( ´ ▽ ` )

Nice to meet you again, Darlings~!

[catwithangerissues]

Okay so for your weekly prompt, Fukunaga and I/Me/Myself by Will Wood please! Thank you! :))

I/Me/Myself by Will Wood - Fukunaga Shōhei

✨Hey! Before anyone says it, I’m fully aware that this song is about gender identity! But, I couldn’t do it justice to use it quite that way here, so I instead used the upbeat tune to make a cute ending :) Please give the song a listen, cause holy shit he’s one of my favorite artists now✨

“I’ve been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin

Flower petals and feathers tether me to the ground (pound for pound)

Take my tea with formaldehyde for my feminine side since the day that I died

While I whittle my bones until I’m brittle, am I pretty now?

For some reason I find myself lost in what you think of me

And too confused to choose who I should be

And now you’ve got me thinking”

“You’ve got to tell them at some point bro!” Yamamoto had been going on and on for what felt like hours, telling Fukunaga about how he needed to finally confess to you, but it always ended up the same way.

The black haired boy was too scared to tell you how he felt, for fear that you didn’t feel the same way. He was pretty insecure about himself, he thought you could do so much better than him and that there was no chance you’d ever feel the same as he did.

He had been quietly talking to the other second years about his problem, he thought that Tora would be helpful because he’d push him out of his comfort zone in the way he needed, and he thought Kenma would be the voice of reason in comparison to the teams ace.

What he didn’t expect, but probably should’ve, was for Tora and Kenma’s inevitable fighting and commotion to draw the attention of two of the third years, minus Kai who had been talking to Lev at the time.

“Come on, Kenma! You know just a-“

“Oi, what’s this about?!” The libero and resident mom of the team was becoming noticeably annoyed with all the noise.

“Fukunaga won’t confess to y/n because he’s scared they don’t feel the same way!” Tora shouted while trying to pry Kenma off of his torso, only for Kuroo to separate the two.

Fukunaga looked down at the floor, and a layer of silence dawned on the entire gym. His pale face flushed, and he began fiddling with his hands out of embarrassment and nervousness.

You see, basically everyone knew of your little crush on Sho, except for him. The entire team had been trying for months to get him to ask you out already, because they had long since come to the conclusion that you were too much of a scaredy cat to make the first move yourself.

“I- I just find it hard to believe that they w-would ever feel the same way..” Fukunaga timidly explained.

“Are you kidding!? Y/n has been going on about you for months dude! Just do it already!” The mohawked ace was quickly silenced by a loud back of the neck smack from the captain. “If you keep telling like that, they’ll hear you.”

After a quick exchange of discipline to the yelling boy, Yaku had made his way over to Fukunaga to comfort him, fearing he’d explode or melt from embarrassment at any second, now that the entire gymnasium had been made aware once again of his situation.

For the next several minutes, Sho had effectively poured his heart out to the much shorter upperclassman. He told him of his fear of you not feeling the same way, as well as informing him of all his insecurities both physical and otherwise. But it’s what slipped out of his own mouth during his rant of confessions that really stuck with Fukunaga.

“I think I’m in love with y/n and I’m terrified.”

“I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend

Am I pretty enough to lie to?

I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend

Just little old me in a big, big world

Little old me in a big world

I wish I were a girl”

Later that night, he laid in bed, hands behind his head and one leg over the other, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the words that slipped from his lips earlier that day. He didn’t know if he really knew what love was, let alone if he even felt it for anyone but his family.

But the words changed something in his brain, like a switch had gone off, and he couldn’t help but feel as though he was running out of time to tell you how he felt.

You both still had another year before graduation, so it couldn’t be that, at least he thought so. Maybe it was that you were the most gorgeous and kind human he’d ever met and he feared someone snatching his best friend away from him. Or maybe it was the ever present fear of one of his team mates, most likely the tall Russian puppy dog or the shark toothed ace, would slip up and tell you how he felt without him knowing.

He spent the rest of that night talking himself up to telling you, how he’d been head over heels for you for what felt like forever, tomorrow. He had to, he couldn’t let the love of his life slip through his fingers. “Wait, did I just think that?!”

“I’ve been feeling lighthearted since I gained enough weight back to cover my bones

I get dressed up in shadows one leg at a time – we’re so alike

But if the shoe fits, then I won’t try it on

You’ll be walking out early, but the show must go on

No, I know that I’m wrong

But I love how you’re on my side when I cross that line

It’s been a point of contention between myself and this body that they stuck me in

The privilege of being born to be a man

And now you got me thinking”

He met you in the usual spot. Your bright smile at his presence instantly making his cheeks heat up. You two had small talk for a few minutes, it eased his nerves slightly, but the voice in his head was screaming for him to just rip off the bandaid. If you were going to reject him he may as well get it over with, he thought.

“I told them I couldn’t beca-“

“Y/n.” The black haired boy interrupted you. Turning your head to meet his gaze, he looked tense and deep on thought, but at the same time more focused than you’d ever seen him before.

“Yes, Sho?” Your curiosity got the better of you, long forgetting the story you were previously telling the boy.

He was noticeably nervous, hands shaking and you could tell he was straining to keep eye contact with you. You felt concern wash through your entire body at the sight, fearing he may be ill or something worse.

“I- I need to tell you something, t-that’s been on my mind for a while.” His voice trailed quieter towards the end of his sentence, his voice slightly wobbly. Your hands came up to his cheeks, effectively forcing him to look you in the eye, and yes, he blushed profusely at the closeness.

“I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend

Am I pretty enough to lie to?

I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend

Just little old me in a big, big world

Little old me in a big world

I wish”

His confession had been a surprise to you, but you were overjoyed at the newfound information that the shy quiet boy had actually felt the same as you all along.

You couldn’t stop smiling for hours after it happened, and from the looks of it, neither could Fukunaga. He held your hand firmly but carefully in his as the two of you walked to the gym, routinely getting ready for you to drop him off for practice. Planting a small kiss on his cheek and exchanging your goodbyes, he turned to walk into the large familiar building.

He was greeted by the loud congratulations and praise of his teammates, noticing they’d been watching through the windows of the building, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He spent the next few minutes answering endless questions, and even if he was normally used to the provocative jokes that his teammates made, he couldn’t help but turn bright red when he heard, “remember to use protection” followed by laughter, as they dispersed to being warming up for practice.

“Eating your prosthetic meat/meet your anesthetic criteria, pathetic seeing you become acetic

Say my name like a slur, but I’ve been called worse

I’ve heard it all before, no this isn’t a first

Let me be the void you fill with taxidermy fingerprints, taxonomize our differences

I am quantum physics, my witness brings me into existence”

-Flash forward a few years into the future-

The loud, upbeat music played throughout the small space the two of you shared, it seemed as though the notes resonated off of the floor under your feet as you listened. With his right hand on your waist and his left hand clasping your right, the two of you spun around enthusiastically to the music. The tile floors of your shared apartment kitchen were as smooth as a dance floor for the two of you. With loud laughter, poor dueting, and pounding heart rates, you couldn’t find it in you- no matter how deep you thought- to feel anything but love at this moment.

With your partner of a few years now, stable jobs and schooling going well, in your first apartment together, dancing in the empty space- as you hadn’t bought any furniture yet. As the late afternoon, orange sun rays bled through the small kitchen window and onto the tiles, you two twirled and dipped to the beat, feet moving without thinking. You saw his bright smile as you spun, his arms catching you with ease. You wanted to burn this memory into your brain forever and never forget it. If you weren’t already certain of your love for the black haired boy, you definitely were now.

“I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend

Am I pretty enough to love back?

No, not yet

I wish I could be a girl, and really I’d prefer it if you would use I/Me/Myself

Am I pretty enough?

Am I pretty enough to fucking die?

Little old me in a big world

Well I would give you my whole world

Little old me in a big world

I wish”

-Flash forward again-

You were brought from your thoughts by the noises of your partner getting ready for the day. The two of you had woken up well over an hour ago, but neither of you wanted to leave the others warm embrace.

You laid in bed, watching as your partner got ready. It wasn’t that watching your now fiancé getting ready for the day was very exciting, he liked to keep his routine simple. But as you watched the way he moved around quietly so as to not disturb you, as he gave a glance over to your tired form to check up on you every few minutes, only to smile when he caught you staring again. As he routinely kissed your forehead after gently lifting your hair out of the way with his thumb, and as he told you he loved you and he’d be home soon to treat you to dinner and a movie tonight in a whisper.

You could almost cry at the sense of relief, happiness, and thankfulness that washed over you. In this moment, you were more grateful than ever for his old high school team of energetic boys that talked him into asking you out all those years ago.

✨Tag list: @almalckd @toworuu ✨

🌱This was fucking cute don’t @ me. Thank you for requesting! I love this song 😭 not super happy with the way this was written but oh well :)

[nazyalenskyism]

Shadows in My Mind

Summary: It wasn't supposed to happen like this, not yet. A/N: I really don't know how to tag this fic but it's been sitting in my drafts for a few months and I hope you like it! As always feedback appreciated, and thanks for taking the time to read! <3 The rest of the fic is under the cut!

Ao3: Shadows in My Mind

        “No,” she hissed, pressing all of her weight into her hands but the pallor of his skin kept worsening despite her efforts. “No. Hey. Stay awake!” Zoya snapped, tapping his cheek with her blood stained fingers. She fought back a wince as she left scarlet prints on his face, his unfocused eyes fluttering open at the sharp pain she’d dealt him. “I won’t let you leave me, you idiot. You’re not allowed to leave.” Zoya couldn’t even summon the horror that would usually wash over her when tears rose in her eyes. She rarely let them fall, but now, they streamed down her face as her best efforts yielded no results. She continued pushing down on the wound, feeling Nikolai’s weary gaze on her when she paused for a moment, using her Squallers’ abilities to throw her voice, calling for someone, anyone, even though she knew there would be no answer. ‘This can’t be how this ends,’  Zoya let herself despair for a moment before turning back to Nikolai,  ‘he was supposed to have more time.’ She steeled herself, ripping off a sleeve of her bloodied and torn shirt, pressing it into the wound. Her bones were tired, her powers screaming, she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the ground and close her eyes, but she couldn’t afford that-- not until she’d saved Nikolai. ‘If I save him, then everything will be fine.’ 

        “Okay,” she whispered, “okay, we can do this. I just have to reapply pressure before I get you onto your feet.” She reached out, faltering when warm fingers wrapped around her wrist. Nikolai looked up at her, pale, bloodied and beaten, but his eyes were still bright. “Nikolai you need to stand up, if you can walk, we’ll do that, or I’ll carry you.” ‘Whatever it takes,’ she thought, trying to pull herself from his grip, but he was surprisingly strong. 

        “Zoya,” he said hoarsely, “it’s no use, dear.”

        “No,” she snapped, looking at him incredulously, “you’re always the one babbling on about hope and optimism, you do not get to tell me it’s futile. Not now,” but in her heart, she realized that she was at yet another funeral, being left behind again. He was going to leave her. He had promised that he would come back. He was leaving her.

        “Nazyalensky,” Nikolai muttered, fingers brushing away the tears that had spilled from her eyes. “Don’t shed tears for me, I don’t like seeing you cry.”

        “Well I don’t like seeing you--” she broke off, she couldn’t do this. 

        “Hey,” he said softly, “I need you to go back to the others, there’s a document with the finance minister, and another with Tolya. I need you to put them into action immediately, don’t give anyone a chance to hurt our country.”

        ‘Our country’. “You’re not thinking about Ravka, not right now.” 

        “I’m running low on moments,” he replied, and to her horror his eyes were shining too. 

        “We can try,” she insisted, “we can’t be too far from the others.” 

        “No,” he said firmly, “I’m fine where I am. I need you to do something for me.” She nodded without hesitation and he continued, “let’s pretend we’re an old married couple.” 

        “What?” Zoya croaked.

        “Tell me a lie. Tell me it will be alright,” his eyes were wide, imploring.

        She pulled on her best guise, what he’d taught her, how to play the part. “Don’t be daft, of course you’ll be fine. You think that your best general would let you d--” she choked back a sob. “That she would let you die? No, you’re going to make it back to the camp, and the healers will patch you up perfectly, or else they’ll have me to deal with. You’ll ride back to a capital on your favourite horse in your best coat, the victorious king of a resilient country.”

        “Will there be a ball in my honour?” the corners of his lips pulled up, “I would’ve loved to dance with every lady in the country.”

        “Of course,” she replied, clinging on to the moment, this moment that was just them as if nothing was wrong, as if this was not their last moment like this. “They’ll write ballads in your honour, and perform hours into the night, the festivities will last for weeks, until you can’t stomach any more parties. All the ladies will be fawning over a chance to dance with their handsome king” 

        “Handsome?” he let out a laugh, wincing immediately, clutching at the wound in his side. Zoya carefully peeled his hand back, replacing it with her own over the injury. She tried not to think about how feverish his skin was under her hand, how his blood had soaked through the fabric of her balled shirt sleeve. ‘I need to remember everything about this moment.’

        “Yes. Handsome.”

        His eyes found hers, a steadfast sincerity behind them. “You’re forgetting how the king may dance with every woman in the country, but the entire evening, his eyes will only be on one.”

“You will meet a nice girl, fall hopelessly in love, have too many children to inherit your throne, and you will grow old with a family and country that love you as you deserve, ” Zoya continued, attempting to ignore his words, the look in his eyes. 

        “The woman whose name the wind whispers in his dreams.”

        She pushed on, “you will be a fantastic king, you will--”

        “And if he never summoned the courage to follow his heart, he would spend every day of the rest of his life wondering what could have been if he had been able to make a queen out of his ruthless general.” 

        “Nikolai--”

        “Zoya,” he whispered, “I fear that I don’t have much time left. Can I ask of one more favour from you?”

        “I thought kings never begged.” She bit out as Nikolai pushed aside new tears, his hand warm against her cheek.

        He gave her a sad smile, “is it truly begging when asking something of a queen? If not, then it will be our secret.” His voice was growing fainter with each word and Zoya felt her heart lurching. She was not ready. ‘Help me’ she implored to the dragon inside her, but the Saints were quiet, like they always were. No one would be coming to save her, they never did.

        She nodded resolutely, “what do you need?” 

        “Will you kiss me sweetly? In my dreams you always do, and this seems like nothing if not a dream of mine.” 

        “Nikolai you--”

        “Nazyalensky, humour me please. I know you don’t share my sentiments but--” 

        He was cut off as Zoya dipped down, pressing her lips against his fiercely with years worth of longing, hope, desperation combined with her heart’s mournful goodbye to a future they would never see. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, kissing her harder until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

        She pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his. “That was sweeter than I ever dreamed,” he said quietly. 

        Zoya took his hand in hers, “don’t go.” 

        “I have to,” his voice was barely there now. She drew back, his fluttering eyelids racking another sob from her chest. “I’ll see you again one day, I hope.” He pushed open his eyes, gazing at her intently, as if struggling to commit each detail to memory, to hold onto the picture for a moment longer. “Don’t forget me.” Nikolai drew their intertwined hands towards him, pressing a brief kiss against her knuckles. 

        “I won’t.” 

        “I know,” he smiled up at her, before closing his eyes. “I’m only going to take a short nap, Zoya dear. Wake me up when our friends are here.”

        She was fully weeping now, “I will, Nikolai. I will.” 

        The world was quiet for a few moments, Nikolai’s slowing breaths the only sound. 

        Then, as quick as sleep, he was gone. 

        For a shining moment, she didn’t believe it, but it shattered all too quickly when she pressed her fingers to his neck. Nothing. He was truly gone.

        “No, no, no,” she murmured, throwing herself over his warm body, crying out as she felt the wind knock out of her chest, her lungs aching from impact. A searing bright light and stars engulfed her vision and she fell back, breathless, cold, smooth tile delivering another blow to her battered body. 

        She blinked rapidly, attempting to right herself, her surroundings only just beginning to register in her mind. She was in a secret cell hidden behind the Darkling’s, now Nikolai’s war room in the Little Palace. It was the place that they were keeping the Darkling— or at least had been— until he had escaped, wreaking havoc and delivering the fatal blow to Nikolai.

        ‘Nikolai,’ Zoya thought, scrambling to her feet despite the pain. How had she gotten here? She had been in the middle of a barren battlefield, her body thrown over her king’s lifeless one… had she been captured? Where was his body? Zoya glanced down at the broken skin on her hands that had braced her fall backwards. They were clean, no trace blood. She frowned, her shirt was whole, her kefta clasped overtop of it. Last she’d remembered, it had been torn off her back as she fought in battle. Looking up, Zoya found a chair that had toppled over laying at her feet, and a metal table before her, and behind it, was the Darkling, a predatory smile playing at his lips.

        “Did you like that little dream?” his voice was as smooth as glass, his hands bound together before him. “All those tears for your little boy king, did you cry like that for me, Zoya?”

        She said nothing, her head still fuzzy. ‘What was happening?’

        “No,” he continued, his eyes fixed on her, trying to gauge her emotions. She knew this game, he found the gaps in your armor and twisted the knife until you were writhing on the floor and he was satisfied with his work. “I don’t suppose you did, you were pretending to hate me at the time, what with the way that you turned against me,” he sneered, raising an eyebrow at her unflinching demeanor. So it had all been fake? Then why did it feel so real? She could feel Nikolai’s lifeless presence over her like an enormous weight, even now. 

        “What was that?” Zoya asked, pushing to make her tone as even as possible. Her fingers dug into her crossed arms, forcing herself to stay in place. She needed answers, she couldn’t afford to run out of the room and make sure that Nikolai was actually okay. As her head cleared, she began to remember what had happened. She’d volunteered to try to get the Darkling to talk, she hadn’t wanted anyone else to have to deal with him. It was her fault that he was back and she refused to let him hurt her friends again. Nikolai had been hesitant, and the look he’d given her at the meeting was puzzling. She had assumed it was because of the story she’d told him that night in the Fold, about what the Darkling had said to her. But now, after whatever she had just experienced, she wasn’t so sure.

        “That,” the Darkling began, pulling Zoya’s attention back to him. “That was a little glimpse into your future.”

        Zoya rolled her eyes, unable to help herself, “let me guess, that’s what’ll happen if I don’t let you go?” 

        “No,” he leaned back in his chair, “it’s inevitable now, that’s the only outcome left after what you and your prince did in the fold.”

        “King,” she replied absently. She didn’t believe him for a second, but the vision had been so real-- she could still feel Nikolai’s blood on her hands, his lips pressing against hers, his lack of a pulse under her frantic fingers. It wasn’t real, and it wasn’t her future. The Saints hadn’t been able to determine this for her and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let the man in front of her try to. 

        “So it can’t be stopped then?” 

        He looked up at her, “oh noble Zoya, so desperate to save everyone. First it was those cubs, then your aunt, Juris, and now the Lantsov pup. As much as you try, they all die in the end. The sooner you learn that, the easier it will be.”

        ‘No. No. You don’t let him play these games.’  Her inner thoughts were echoed by the dragon inside of her, and it took everything to stop herself from slamming the Darkling’s face into the table. As she took a step towards him, planning her next move with blood roaring in her ears, the door behind her flung open. 

        “Zoya, we need you.”

        She frowned, she needed answers. “ Give me a minute,” she called.

        “Now, Commander.” 

        “Ask your little king how he felt about that vision.”

        Zoya spun around on him, unable to hide her shock. “You showed it to him?

        “Why don’t you ask him what it felt like to die? He should remember that feeling, it’s going to happen again sooner than later.”

        Zoya forced her feet out the door, slamming it behind her as she followed Tolya into the viewing room, where a mirror looked out at their prisoner. 

        “What is it?”

        “What happened in there? You froze, and the next thing I knew you were crashing to the ground.”

        She waved him off impatiently, her heart still racing from the Darkling’s parting words, “where’s Nikolai?”

        “He’s with Ehri in the gardens, why?”

        “Go check,” she said, her chest tightening, “go check on them now.”

        “What’s wrong?” he asked, briefly touching her arm. His face was full of concern and Zoya couldn’t take anymore heartbreak now. She couldn’t imagine the possibility that anything might take her friends from her.

        “I’m fine,” she snapped. “Go now, and check on David and Genya and Tamar too, that’s an order.”

        He shot her another puzzled look before leaving her alone in the observation room, while the quiet slowly began to consume her. She didn’t order her friends around, not like that, but with every passing second she felt more of her control slip away. Her heart was full of pain, she couldn’t see anything but red.

        He’s fine, it’s alright. They’re all unharmed. But it wasn’t enough. She sank to the floor, knees drawn to her chest, numb as the dream repeated itself again and again in her mind. All the while her king strolled through the gardens, entertaining his future queen at his side, unaware that all she could feel was his lifeless body under her, as she watched him die over and over again.

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part eight: falling fractures

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures | part five: falling fame | part six: falling feelings | part seven: falling forces

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

Weeks passed since the kiss on the curb between Calum and Arden. Silent bliss and secrets shrouded them and all that they had come to figure out. Any and all time spent together was real and falling felt like passing through clouds and tasted sweeter than ever. Only a slight bite of guilt followed with Michael’s gazes that screamed unanswerable questions. They tried to play it lowkey in front of him but with the engagement already in motion and those not in the know passing in and out  the act fell on a thin wire; lines and realities were crossed. They often got away, stayed at Calum’s with the complete privacy his place offered. When they had no choice but to cross paths and realities it was closed doors and dark shadows that allowed them to be real with each other and explore each other through the new dynamic of their relationship.

A band milestone called for celebration and worlds to collide. Calum picked up Arden and savored every moment in the shadows of the car before they entered Ashton’s where the party was already well underway. They blended in with the crowd and played all the parts they needed to for those surrounding them. Calum kept a casual arm around her to suggest their relationship but not be explicit and obvious. Loud music, lack of lighting and the large crowd provided an easy and unnoticed escape once formalities and greetings took place. They waved to Michael and played it cool, moved through the crowd and found a piece of quiet solace. Calum knew Ashton’s house just as well as his own.

A spare room provided them with privacy and a place to wander and continue exploring. With the lights low and Arden’s back pressed to the wall, finding sweetness and breathing her in—focusing solely on her as the party faded behind them—became second nature. After weeks of becoming more and more intimate and familiar with one another Calum’s hands glided down her body and settled at her waist, his lips roamed her skin and kissed softly down her neck, a sigh he now knew and adored escaped her as his teeth lightly grazed supple skin. Her fingers carded through his curls and their bodies pressed closer together, her right leg came up to wrap around him, his left hand found way under her thigh to support her.

“Cal,” she murmured, voice low and laced with hazy desire. Calum made a noise of acknowledgement and continued to kiss her. “Don’t leave a mark. Michael might see.”

The reminder pulled Calum back and stopped him short. He looked up and found hazel in the dim light, a plea to keep secrets off her skin settled in the way she looked at him. Eyelashes fluttered and her lip pouted. Calum nodded his understanding, gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and sighed.

“It’s probably not a good night for this, huh?” He asked and she tilted her head to the side as if to communicate she was unsure. Her leg dropped from his hold and his hand wound up on the wall beside her instead. “The band has promo this week and I think everyone is gonna expect you to be there for some of it.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Without a hickey, probably. Michael would either assume the truth or think it was someone else. I don’t know which would be worse.”

Calum arched an eyebrow at her before dipping down to give one last kiss to the curve of her neck. He smiled into her skin and lingered for just a moment. He felt her ease against him and knew they were both wishing the circumstances were different. When he looked back up she was biting her lip and looking at the ceiling.

“We have to tell him eventually,” she said out of nowhere and Calum heard the guilt in her tone. “Tell everyone all of the truths, actually. It’s getting really hard to keep up—but it doesn’t feel like it should be anyone else’s to know.”

Calum brushed his fingertips along her jaw and encouraged her to look back down at him. When she did he could see the distress written clearly on her face even in the shadows.

“We can tell when we’re ready. We can start with the first truth. To our parents,” Calum suggested and watched as Arden visibly relaxed at the weight that would be lifted from their shoulders.

“How mad do you think they’ll be?”

Calum shrugged. “Won’t matter, it’s management’s fault for roping us into it. I think they would have taken a drunken joke over a forced contract. They’ll be more upset about that than anything.”

“And then we’ll tell Michael?”

“If you want,” Calum confirmed and reminded himself all of the truths were contingent on her comfortability. He liked having her to himself and keeping the new dynamic to their relationship under wraps. But if it was eating at her, if she asked him to come clean, then he would. He’d go at her pace and hopefully be able to hold her hand through it all.

She let out a breath and casted her gaze to the door. “Let’s give it a little more time. Should we get back out there before it seems suspicious?”

“Suspicious to who? Almost everyone here thinks we’re engaged,” Calum laughed and made Arden roll her eyes at the absurdity of their situation. “Michael knows we have to play it up sometimes.”

She grinned and leaned in for one more kiss, one last tousle of his curls and wandering hand exploring him. They hadn’t gone much further than what they’d done tonight, but taking it slow and learning each and every curve of each other was a journey Calum was happy to be on.

***

Arden’s first experience with band promotion came on the backs of a single they were hoping for success with. They were carted from radio station to television set, from green room to dressing room and hallways and sound booths. In between the chaos Calum always sought her out. In front of the different teams he held her hand and the band backed them up by playing it natural. Luke and Ashton proved useful, always having something to say about them or being a good way to divert to something else. Michael played his part as well as he could, tried his best to be a believable protective brother and trusting friend that was happy for both of them. The cliche jokes and warnings of what Michael would do if Calum ever hurt her felt a little too real and a bit unsettling as Michael’s eye contact didn’t waver.

The week dragged during the days Arden couldn’t be around for the interviews; her job at the gallery kept her occupied, but Calum wouldn’t have it any other way. As much as he wanted her there to break up the boredom and be able to bask in the irony of their “fake” relationship he knew her time was better spent figuring out her dreams. Management wasn’t entirely pleased she wasn’t attending every session to just be a shadow in the background or a tag on social media but for the lack of her presence the questions heightened tenfold. He knew management approved the questions beforehand—possibly even wrote them and handed them over—and that he had to answer them. On days when Arden was there he could keep an eye on her as he talked through his answers, pick up on subtle clues hidden in her body language as to whether she was okay with his explanations or not.

When she was able to go and downtime plagued them between sets they found a rhythm to sneaking away or hiding in plain sight. Closets and corners became havens for their reality and subtleties screamed truths in the faces of those that didn’t know. They could get away with hand holding and his arm around her in front of Michael. When they could get away from him they were bound to explore and cross lines they never had before. Hushed words and needy sighs highlighted secret desires in the dark. Those times sent thrills through Calum. But it was the softer moments that stayed with him.

Afternoon sunlight spilled through windows in the green room and an unusual quiet settled around them. Their team was busy out in the hall, Ashton was running late and Luke was manning the hall waiting for him. Calum and Arden were able to sit close as a guise for the facade and Michael didn’t bat an eye at it. When he left for the bathroom Arden moved after him, watched him walk out the door and down the hall a way before turning back to Calum and closing the green room door. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she slowly walked back over to him where he was waiting with open arms. She settled against him, more fully and intimately than before, tucked her chin into the crook of his shoulder and he felt her breath on his neck as his arms wound around her.

“I’ve missed you,” she said and Calum smirked.

“I’ve been right here all day,” he reminded her and carded his fingers through her hair.

“It’s not the same when everyone else is around,” she admitted with a faint blush and buried her face further against him. Modesty was becoming of her and made Calum warm. “There’s too many things to keep up with. We can’t just be us. I miss you.”

Calum agreed with her words but didn’t vocalize it. He just kept runnings his fingers through her hair and let out a small huff. He let himself enjoy the moment. The week had been so busy and contrived it was rare to find such a peaceful interaction. It was the last day of promo in the area and Calum couldn’t be more thankful. A plan to end out the week formed in his mind in an instant. He wanted to top all of the fake off with something real; put everything back into balance.

“You wanna get away tonight?”

Arden shifted to look up at him with questioning eyes.

“We could go to the diner,” he suggested, knowing it was one of their places they had no fear of being themselves. “Or the beach.”

Arden hummed as she thought it over and lightly tapped her fingertips to his chest before settling back against him and hiding her face. “No. I just wanna go home—I mean your place—so we can be alone.”

The smile that formed on Calum’s face couldn’t be contained, he was elated to know his place was synonymous with home for her. Especially when she despised the city his house resided in. In the back of his mind and in the forefront of his heart he knew it wasn’t the city or the house that made her feel that way. It was him. And she did the same. She made cold ocean water and flashing cameras and a stranger’s wedding and a Vegas hotel feel like home. He cherished those places and moments with everything he had and everything she had come to give him.

The rotation of the doorknob had them springing back into a more casual position, but when an assistant walked in instead of Michael or Luke or Ashton they both caught their breaths and settled. Close calls were becoming second nature. Anxiety lingered around every opening door and watchful eye. Calum couldn’t wait to be home where they could finally be alone and themselves without inhibitions and fears of what would be coming around the corner. The assistant told Calum he was needed on set, that Ashton had finally made it and the others were already headed over. Calum gave Arden a quick goodbye kiss figuring the assistant wouldn’t think too much of it with the ring on Arden’s finger and all the chatter of the engagement. That was one of few silver linings inside the chaos they were living. The ring gave reasons when they weren’t ready to share their own.

Calum went through the motions for the interview: relied on his band mates to pick up his slack and sense that he wasn’t all together and comfortable with where some of the questions headed. Michael easily slipped in and broke it up, Ashton and Luke helped to diffuse the situation. When the day and the week of promo was finally over and they were all headed home it came as a small surprise to Michael that Arden chose to go with Calum instead of him.  They chalked it up to needing a new game plan for their next paparazzi stunt. After a moment Michael seemingly understood and bid them both goodbye. But once they were back to Calum’s—in Arden’s words home—the last thing on their minds was the stunt. Everything became real again the instant they stepped through the door. Pretenses and theatrics were left outside. The couch called their names and had them settling in.

Calum had no fear in pulling Arden close, nearly completely on top of him. Bodies rested as one and small talk came easily. Arden went on about her job at the gallery and Calum had pride on the tip of his tongue the entire time but stayed quiet to let her speak. He didn’t know who else she had told, if her family knew and could also sing their praises for her path. So Calum always picked up the slack and reminded her of the admiration he had for her and all she achieved.

“You know,” Calum finally spoke when she lapsed into silence. “I’m still waiting on an Arden original; don’t tell me you haven’t thought about getting back into painting after all the time at the gallery.”

Arden shifted. “You’re still on that, huh?”

“Of course. I’ve got a blank wall just waiting for your art.”

Arden hummed with good humor and shook her head, Calum could feel the motion against his chest and the vibration of her voice as she tucked herself closer into him.

“I’ll have to see what I can do,” she half promised and Calum nodded, only wanting to remind her, not push or prod or dull any spark that may have come back. “It’d be a shame to let that wall space go to waste.”

Calum agreed and let them slip back into blissful silence. The rest of the night was filled with quiet conversation and so easily them that when morning came neither batted an eye. They had stayed up all night, comfortable enough on the couch and in each other’s arms to the point they didn’t move to the bedroom. It was the gallery that separated them, Calum making Arden coffee before he dropped her off and leaving her with one last gaze he hoped spoke of his pride and adoration for her. She bid him goodbye with a smile and kiss on the cheek; something much more substantial and heart thumpingly real than just a brush of her lips from a whispered thank you. It was sweet and soft and innately Arden.

***

Real time spent together fell apart in the face of another stunt. A more invasive and public walk through the cameras. Calum could feel Arden’s anxiety the day leading up to their first night walk, he noted the wiggle of her legs and the distant look to hazel that had him worried. He wouldn’t leave her side during the entrance to the club, wouldn’t let the paparazzi get more of her than necessary and would do his best to keep her comfortable. But the uneasiness she exudes was starting to follow him, to form a pit in his stomach and make him need to call to action. He texted Ashton and asked him to go with them hoping that it may take some heat and interest off of them. He explained it to him and Ashton didn’t hesitate, even offered to drive.

Calum sat in the backseat with Arden and felt the tension was so palpable it nearly choked him. She was tense and staring out the tinted window. Paparazzi lingered on the curb near the entrance. The night was dark but the flashing of cameras would be bright enough to light their way. Ashton drummed his hands on the steering wheel, not accustomed to the build up and time it took for Arden to be okay with diving head first into these situations.

“We just need a minute,” Calum explained and Ashton nodded, eyes squinted inquisitively as he took in the situation in the back, probably realizing the anxiety that was swelling, the panic that was rising and the attempt to calm it.

“There’s a lot more out there than usual,” Arden whispered and finally looked back at Calum. He could see the panic pooling in her eyes and the stiff motions that accompanied her every move. “It’s terrifying.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Calum murmured and wished they had driven alone, wished he could say and do more to comfort her without Ashton sneaking glances in the review mirror. “It’s a quick walk in. We stay for just a while and it’s another quick walk out. It’ll be okay.”

Calum knew making that promise was risky. He had his own run-ins that hadn’t been so okay, where they got a little too in his face and said something a little too reactionary. Sometimes he threw up the middle finger so the photos couldn’t be used in magazines, sometimes he said four letter words that maybe only called more attention to him. He would have to stay subtle and be quick with Arden at his side. The paparazzi needed no more incentive to get rowdy tonight.

“We don’t have to stay long?” She asked with hope in her tone and hand reaching out for him that faltered when she remembered Ashton was in the front. Calum shook his head.

“Half an hour. Get in, they can get their shots, get out and they can get a few more,” he said. He took a glance out the window and pulled his sunglasses from the neckline of his shirt, gently placed them on Arden’s face and gave her a small smile. “These will help.”

“I didn’t think to bring mine. Are you sure you don’t want yours?”

“It’s fine,” Calum soothed and reached for the door handle, Ashton taking the hint and doing the same. “Ready?”

Arden slightly nodded past a sigh and scooted out just behind him, Calum being hyper aware to keep her shielded. A customary arm went around her and she hid her face against him, the walk was short and successful—as easy as it possibly could have been. Only a few remarks were made. Having Ashton walk in with them was a surprise and a good separation. Music was blasting upon their entry. Arden was glued to Calum’s side as they walked to their reserved seating in the VIP area. A few of their friends within the industry were at the table and gave head nods as greeting or small waves as introductions to Arden. It was convenient to have them around, much easier to explain to Ashton why they sat so close and acted like a couple so naturally.

“Wasn’t so bad right?” Calum asked, dipping down to be near her so she’d have a chance at hearing and hoping no one else would. The music was a bit faded where they sat but still poured through the club with resounding bass lines.

Arden shrugged. “Not as bad as I thought. Not as easy as usual.”

Calum rubbed her back—recalled a time when they sat on a bench outside the band’s management’s office and he had done the same—hoping it would help her relax. She was still a bit shaken but a calm was coming down, put a bit of color back into her face and loosened her movement as she melted into his touch, rested her head on his shoulder and finally took the sunglasses off her face. Calum’s friends didn’t bat an eye at the affection but Ashton raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. A lump formed in Calum’s throat and burned without remorse at the questioning stance Ashton took up. Apparently, the game wasn’t as obvious to him. Calum would have some explaining to do.

Time slipped by and Calum could sense how uncomfortable Arden was getting. She wasn’t used to the noise and the drunken people that swarmed around them in droves. She wasn’t a party person and when she was she usually snuck away to find some solace and quiet; to a place like the side of a house where the stars were her only company. Half an hour felt like seconds to Calum but with the bounce of Arden’s leg under the table and the restless grip she kept on his hand he knew it was starting to feel like an eternity for her. He could guess she was dreading the walk back to the car, that she might be assuming the worst to make up for the ease in which they entered the establishment.

She sidled up closer to his side, pressed so completely against him it would have been almost impossible for him to not hear her whispered request. “Can we leave yet?”

He couldn’t refuse the simple want. He couldn’t deny that he was craving some alone time with her as well. Her words from days earlier rang true. When other people were around they really couldn’t be themselves. It was always more reserved or less authentic in some way. Pieces of them were always hidden to someone’s watching eyes. Calum caught Ashton’s attention and made a motion toward the doors. Ashton understood the nonverbal communication and quite possibly the desperation for escape clouding Arden.

They bid their goodbyes quickly and headed for the door, Arden slipping the sunglasses back on and gripping Calum’s hand with renewed anxiety. Before they were out the doors Calum could sense the energy outside had shifted. Flashes bombarded them before the doors shut, more paparazzi had gathered, a crowd forming and circling them—almost cornering them back into the club. Ashton took up the lead and Calum appreciated it with his entire being; used himself to help shield Arden and push through those that got too close to them; got too invasive with her. Calum lost sight of Ashton and could only hope he would get to the car and bring it to them in the midst and the thick of the swarm.

“Cal,” Arden’s voice barely made it to him as the jostling and the unnecessary comments began.

In one heart thumping moment he lost his hold on her. Fingers slipped through and the force of the crowd separated them. Calum was in a panic. Irritated at the push and pull. Desperate to get back to her. He was shoved forward and she was pushed back. He could barely see light brown hair or hidden hazel eyes peering over the crowd. He turned suddenly, saw Ashton’s car pull up to the curb and sent out a silent thank you as he maneuvered back around and elbowed his way through, knocking into cameras and anyone in his path. He found her in the middle of taunting flashes, frozen on the ground in an obvious fall; hands on the sidewalk and foot twisted awkwardly. He sank down to her quickly, back to the crowd and focused entirely on her.

“Arden?” He gently asked, broke the frozen fear she was in and watched as she came back to him with a trembling lower lip and hands that shook as they sought him out. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Can you get up?”

She tried, sucked in air through the pain once weight hit her right foot and clutched at Calum; his arms catching her before she took another tumble. The paparazzi were pressing in again, a blare of a car horn took many by shock and Calum used the moment to move fast. He lifted Arden, hands under her thighs, her arms wrapped around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist.

“Hide your face love, we’re getting out of here,” Calum instructed and hoped she heard him. It took a few seconds before he felt her bury her face against his neck, the cool metal of his sunglasses clashing with the warmth of her cheeks.

The backseat door flung open as soon as Calum managed to get them to the car. Ashton had reached over from the driver's seat and aided them in their time of peril. Arden slid into the seat and over to the window opposite the crowd and commotion; to where the night was much calmer—the world seemingly split in two. Calum climbed in quickly and shut the door with a resounding thud; the tinted windows helping to keep the blinding lights at bay. Ashton’s quick getaway was made in silence as he peeled out and forced everyone back.

“What the fuck happened back there?” Ashton finally asked after minutes of driving in new found silence. “Are you guys okay?”

Calum nodded. Though it was more dramatic than any other run in with paparazzi he found himself mostly unfazed. Though his eyes drifted to Arden to find her gone peakid and tense. Her fingers curled into her palms and a distant yet pleading look settled about her. The trembling lip came back and her hand slowly inched toward him through the distance he left between them on the bench seat. She pulled it back when she realized Ashton could see; the hesitation and hurt in the movement broke Calum. In a quick motion he undid his seatbelt and slid to the middle of the seat, buckled back in and pulled her to him as far as the seatbelts would allow. She shattered in his hold and let the anxiety and fear of the entire night out. Sunglasses were abandoned in favor of tears. He did his best to soothe her and not look at Ashton who only had questions and assumptions surely sitting on his tongue. Calum ran his fingers through her hair, placed small kisses to the top of her head and whispered words he hoped would help ease the ache and pain.

“It’s okay now, I’ve got you.”

Arden pushed away from him slightly after doing her best to collect herself. “I never want to do that again.”

“You won’t. No more paparazzi walks, I promise.”

Calum heard Ashton’s noise of confusion and disbelief. It probably wasn’t a promise that Calum should be making but he would raise hell to keep it. Calum brushed off the looks Ashton was trying to give him through the mirrors and wiped away stray tears from Arden’s face. Kissed her forehead after contemplating if that would come off as purely comfort and then roamed down to peck her lips without thinking. It was instinctual and habitual. Calum ignored the obvious stares Ashton was sending him and swallowed down the fear of being caught. Took the rest of the ride back to his place to coddle her and keep her calming down, to quell the panic and pain lingering within her.

When they pulled up to Calum’s house he let out a sigh and undid their buckles. “Ash? Can you just… not say anything about this?” He asked with his gaze skirting to Arden and back to Ashton.

Ashton threw his hands up from the wheel. “I don’t even know what this is. How can I say anything about it?”

That was Ashton’s way of saying whatever conclusions he came to about the way they interacted after the scuffle would stay an assumption and a secret safe with him. Calum nodded appreciatively and opened the door, hopped out and offered his hand to Arden. She was hesitant to put weight on her foot and Calum grimaced when he remembered the awkward fall and sheer pain written on her face. He scooped her up again and closed the door with his hip.

“You need to get your ankle looked at,” he said as they approached the door and felt Arden stiffen in his hold. “We can go to the emergency room.”

“No!” She was quick to let the opposition to his proposal slip out. “No. It’s okay, I mean, it’s maybe a small sprain at most. I just need to rest it. And get some ice.”

Calum wasn’t so sure about her denial but trusted her word and brought them into the house to do as she needed. With her foot elevated and being iced her tears finally dried from the horrendous end to the night. Duke curled up with them and made everything feel like it was going back to normal; if they even had a normal. There was a bite of worry about what Ashton saw and how Calum couldn’t keep the situation under control, there was fear in the power of management and the vindictive levels they were willing to go to to get what they wanted. At this point, Calum wasn’t even sure what they were after anymore. Ruining him, ruining the relationship or ruining Arden.

“What do you think the headlines will be like?” Arden asked and Calum heard the anxiety creeping back into her tone. “You don’t think Ashton’s gonna tell Michael, do you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Calum soothed and pulled her closer into him, reveled in the familiarity and normalcy of the affection and vowed to do the worrying for both of them.

It was his turn to stand up to management and decide when the hard truths needed to be told. Arden had braved enough of the storm; stood firm in the face of management and saved their reputations. Took the weight of both their lies on her shoulders. The falling fractures were his now.

<< >>

If you’d like to be added to my tag list just let me know! 

Tagged: @rosecolouredash​ @irwinkitten​ @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos​ @caswinchester2000​ @wildflowergrae​ @empathycth​ @cuddlemecalx @malumsmermaid​ @babylon-corgis​ @outerspaceisbetterthannothing​ @mariellelovescupcakes​ @xhaileyreneex​ @goth5sos​ @gosh-im-short​ @feliznavidaddycal​ @loveroflrh​ @findingliam-o​ @flowerthug​ @g-l-pierce​ @talkfastromance4​ @cashtonasfuck​ @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer​ @wastedheartcth​ @calumscalm​ @notinthesameguey​ @lukesfuckingbeard​ @myloverboyash​ @treatallwithkindness​ @haikucal​ @wiildflower-xxx​ @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood​ @drarryetcetera​ @another-lonely-heart​ @megz1985​ @idk-harry​ @dinosaursandsocks​ @wildflower-cth​ @idontneedanyone​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @myfavfanficsever​ @stormrider505​ @karajaynetoday​ @333-xx​ @calumshpod​ @calumsphile​ @calumrose​ @justhereforcalum​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @calumance​ @mantlereid @hemmingslftv​ @sltwins​ @queenalienscherrypie @emilyma​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @begluketostay​ @paaaam97​ 

[thefloorisbalaclava]

pragma - part twenty one

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: drug mention

A/N: Sorry this took so long for me to get up. But I hope this makes up for the long wait! There’s fort building!

Summary: You get an unexpected invite and Frankie comes along. Things don’t go as smoothly as you’d like but Frankie stands up for himself and for you.

pragma masterlist

You sat on the kitchen counter eating cold pizza as Frankie stood between your legs enjoying his own slice.

“This can’t be healthy,” he said between bites.

“It’s not, but who cares?” You shrugged before taking another bite. You were in one of his shirts since you didn’t feel like putting your own clothes back on just yet.

“Want a beer?” he asked, moving to the refrigerator to grab himself one.

“Sure.” Just then, your phone rang and you hopped down from the counter to go answer. You closed your eyes and sighed before answer. “Hey…mom.”

Frankie stood up straight and looked at you, making a face.

“Yeah, I heard him. Hey dad,” you said, shaking your head. “Is something wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong in order for me to call you?” your mom asked.

“No. What’s going on?”

“We miss you and wanted to know if you can come see us this weekend.”

“Oh, um…” you hesitated.

“If you can’t make it here, we’ll come to you,” she said happily.

“No!” you shouted. “I mean…I can make it. Uh…may I bring someone?” You looked at Frankie who had helped himself to another slice of pizza and froze in the middle of taking a bite.

“A boyfriend?” your mom asked excitedly. You could hear your dad saying ‘what boyfriend’ in the background.

“Yes, my boyfriend.” You winked at Frankie who still seemed to be frozen in place.

“Please bring him,” your mother chirped.

“What boyfriend? What’s his name?” your dad asked in the background. You shook your head.

“Try to get here early so we can have the whole day with you!” she suggested.

“Okay, I’ll try. Love you, mom. Love you, dad. Bye.” You hung up before anything else could be said. “So…”

“We’re going to see your parents, huh?” Frankie asked nervously. “You think they’ll remember me? Probably not. That was a long time ago.” He rambled when he was nervous sometimes.

“It’s okay. We’ll be together. You’re free this weekend, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, new job doesn’t start till next week.” You could see the gears turning in his head. “Your parents…” he repeated as you walked over to him.

“It’ll be fine, babe. Come here.” You hugged him and he stood there stiffly before wrapping his arms around you. “My mom likes you already. We’ll work on my dad.”

“But won’t they wonder what happened with your husband?”

“Ex-husband. And they already know what happened with him.”

“What…what if I’m not good enough?” he asked.

“But you are.”

“I mean for them?” He was truly concerned.

“They’re not the ones dating you, Francisco.” You rubbed his back hoping to calm his nerves.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go…”

You took a deep breath. “If you really don’t want to you don’t have to. I’m not gonna force you to.”

“But you already told them I was coming.”

“Things change. They’ll get over it.” You let go of him and grabbed the beer he got for you off the table.

“Okay. They’ll get over it, but how about you? I can already see how disappointed you are.” He followed your movements around the kitchen before you hopped back up on the counter.

“I’m not disappointed.” You sipped your beer as he approached and slotted himself between your legs again, hands rubbing your bare thighs. “I’ll call them when I get home today and tell them you can’t make it.”

“Wait what? Home? You’re not staying? Now I know you’re mad.” He pouted and walked away.

“I’m not mad. I just thought you’d want your own space. You moved back here for a reason.”

“I moved back here to figure things out on my own not to…get away from you or anything.” He stood in the middle of the kitchen, exasperated. “Shit, I just can’t get it right today, can I?”

“You’re fine. Like I said, I’m not upset.” You finished your beer then stood up to walk to the living room and get your clothes.

He watched you change into your clothes and fold the shirt he let you borrow nicely. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I don’t have to but I should.”

“I miss you,” he confessed. “So much. I hate sleeping alone.”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him. “I miss you, too. You know, I cried the other day when I found your beer in the fridge.”

“Yeah? Well, I hold one of my pillows every night and pretend it’s you. It’s not the same. I don’t sleep half as good as I did with you.”

“Frankie…”

“Stay. Just for tonight. Please?”

“Okay.” Like you could ever say no to that face. He sighed in relief and let himself breathe again, putting a hand on his tummy.

“Take your clothes back off then,” he said and you threw one of the couch pillows at him. “Hey…I got an idea.” He ran to the bedroom then came back out carrying pillows and a blanket.

“What are you-"

He held his finger up then ran to the bedroom again and returned with another blanket. “So…you wanna…make a fort?” he asked seductively.

“Are you kidding…duh!”

“God, I love you,” he said as you grabbed a blanket. He took the other end and pulled you to him then kissed you.

“I love you too.”

*

“This is awesome,” you said. Frankie’s head was in your lap and he played with your fingers. You believed this type of fort was considered a ‘cave’.

“You keep me feeling young,” he told you, giving you the most charming smile you had ever seen.

“I have a feeling we’ll be building forts until we’re seventy,” you joked.

He sat up slightly. “Really?”

“Yup. Is something wrong with that?” you asked.

“No…it’s just that, well, that’s a long time and I never really pictured anyone wanting to be with me that long.” He shrugged dismissively.

“Well, I wanna be with you for that long. Forever even.”

He sat up, looking into your eyes. In your own little private world, your fort, there were no secrets, nothing you or he were too afraid to say. “You mean it?”

“I do.”

“You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“I hope as happy as you make me. My Frankie.”  You saw the tears swimming in his eyes as he moved in for a kiss.

He laughed shyly when he pulled away, sniffling quietly. “I’d never hear the end of it if anyone else found out I cry so much.”

“What happens in our fort, stays in our fort.” You winked at him. “And it’s okay to cry. I’d rather you show emotion than to hold it all in.”

“No one is ever gonna get me the way you do. I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” you argued. “I got me the hottest pilot in the world…and he also works with dogs. What a dream!” You put your hand on your head. “I’m fawning.”

“Stop,” he said, smiling brightly with color rising to his cheeks.

“Aw, you’re blushing. Come here.” You grabbed him started kissing all over his face.

Through laughter and you smushing his face he spoke. “I’ve been thinking. I wanna go with you to your parent’s place this weekend.”

“Really?” You were still holding his face in your hands as he nodded. He scrunched up his face as you kissed his nose. “Thank you, baby.”

“I just hope they like me.”

“They’ll love you. Not as much as I do though. Now, how about we, uh, christen this fort.”

“You mean like give it a name or…”

“You know exactly what I mean, soldier.” You move onto his lap.

“No. I don’t think I do.”

“Francisco…” you scold.

“Ah, that’s a good one. Fuerte Francisco. Rolls off the tongue.”

“Hey, how come it gets named after you? We built it together.”

“Yeah, but it was my idea.” He squeezed your thighs and pulled you closer. “So…what were you saying about christening this fort…”

*

You looked over at Frankie who sat in the passenger seat fiddling with his fingers and mumbling to himself.

“Calm down. You’re making me nervous.”

“I can’t help it. Do you really think this outfit is okay?” He looked down at himself. You helped him pick out the flannel shirt and the henley under it to make it pop a little more.

“I think you look sexy,” you said.

“I’m not trying to look sexy…not for your parents.” He covered his face and groaned. “I can’t do this.”

“Are you gonna jump out the car while I’m driving or something?” you asked but then he got quiet and you prayed he wasn’t actually considering it. You grabbed his hand while you were stopped at the light. “Everything is gonna be okay. If you need to hold my hand the whole time, you can.”

“In front of your parents?”

“Uh…the last time I checked we were two fully grown adults. And it’s holding hands not fuc--"

“Don’t finish that.” He actually chuckled and it made you feel better. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I mean…she doesn’t have to know everything I do with it,” you said before letting go of his hand to drive again.

“My God…do I have to make you pull over and put you over my knee?” He shook his head but smiled.

“That’s tempting actually.”

He eyed you for a moment. “No! No…we’re going to see your parents and we’re talking like this.”

“What…do you think they can hear what we’re saying right now? Are they gonna read our minds?” you teased.

“Hell, I used to swear my mom could.”

“You got this, babe. Everything is gonna be fine.” You turned down the road your parents lived on and Frankie looked as though he was going to be sick. “Breathe.”

You pulled up to the house and before you could even get out of the car properly, your mom came running up to hug you. “It’s been too long,” she said, squeezing you too tightly.

Frankie got out of the car and waved awkwardly. “Mom, this is Francisco. My boyfriend.”

“Francisco. What a lovely name. And he’s handsome too.” She shook his hand as you rolled your eyes.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Would you listen to that…ma’am. I like him already,” she chirped and Frankie smiled. “Come on inside.” She walked ahead of you two and you grabbed Frankie’s hand.

“See? You’re doing great,” you whispered.

“Still gotta get through dad,” he responded. And as soon as you walked through the door, your dad was standing there stern as ever only smiling when he greeted you. He looked at Frankie, surveying him then stuck his hand out.

“This is Francisco, dad.” They shook hands and your father grunted.

“Tell me, what do you do, Francisco?”

“I’m…uh…I work at a doggy daycare. Used to be a pilot in the army,” he added for good measure.

“Hm…I see. You look familiar,” you father said. “Honey, doesn’t he look familiar?” he asked your mom.

“Now that you mention it, yes.”

“Wait…Francisco as in Frankie Morales? Gabriel Morales' boy?” Your father’s face finally got some life in it.

“That’s me.”

“You didn’t tell us we knew him, sweetheart,” your mother said to you.

“Surprise.”

“Well, let’s have lunch.” She led you all into the dining room where Frankie pulled a chair out for you.

“Thanks babe,” you said quietly as he sat beside you.

*

Everything was going great, perfect even, until your dad started piecing things together. You tried turning the conversation away from Frankie, but your father is a determined man.

“Didn’t something happen with you a few years ago?” Your dad had stopped eating to look at Frankie.

Frankie was getting uncomfortable; you could tell by the way he fidgeted in his chair.

“Dad, if you can’t remember then obviously it wasn’t that big a deal…” But that still wasn’t enough to stop him.

Suddenly, your dad frowned and you knew what was coming. “You told us something,” he said, pointing at you.

“I—”

Frankie looked at you and you had to look away.

“Drugs,” your father bit out and you closed your eyes. Now he was pointing at Frankie. “Is this who you decide to bring home to us?” He was glaring at Frankie but talking to you.

“That was a long time ago,” you mumbled. “He’s fine now.”

“You get divorced from an asshole just to start dating a drug addict?”

Frankie stood and you grabbed his arm which he pulled away. “With all due respect, sir, I’m not and have never been an addict. Yeah, I did drugs. Yes, I hurt your daughter and she had to leave, but you know what, we’re together now and nothing’s gonna change that. She’s forgiven me and she loves me and that’s all that matters.”

“But—” your dad started.

“No, that’s enough.” You stood up next to Frankie. “You heard him. I love him,” your voice cracked. “And I don’t care what you say, I’ll never stop loving him.” Frankie looked at you as you spoke. “We all make mistakes. None of us are perfect, but Frankie makes me feel as close to perfect as I’m gonna get.”

“I love your daughter, sir.” Frankie turned to your mom. “Ma’am…I’d never do anything to hurt her ever again. She healed me. She saved me and the only way I can think of repaying her for that is living as a better version of myself—I'm the best version of myself with her.”

Your mother grabbed Frankie’s hand. “I believe you. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen my little girl so passionate.”

You looked at your dad who was still frowning. “That’s all we’re gonna say about it, okay?” You sat back down and started eating again as if nothing happened. Frankie sat, took your hand, and kissed it.

“I love you,” he said as your parents looked on.

“I love you too.”

*

Getting through that meal wasn’t easy, but Frankie held your hand the entire time and when he did that, you could do anything.

Now you were sitting outside on the patio talking, your father still uncomfortably quiet, but the rest of you enjoyed yourselves. You weren’t expecting him to speak to Frankie for the rest of the time you two were there, but he did and you were shocked by the question.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” he asked, finally looking at Frankie again.

“We’re just…enjoying being with each other right now. I can’t say what the future holds but I’m hoping she’ll be in it.” Frankie smiled over at you and you nodded.

“If you hurt her, I’ll have to kill you,” your father said.

“Dad!”

“I expect nothing less, sir. I broke her ex's nose for what he did to her.”

“Frankie…oh my god…”

“Bastard got what he deserved,” the older man mumbled. You looked between the two men and noticed them both starting to smirk. So, they decided to bond over the hatred of you ex? You shrugged. Whatever worked.

*

After a few beers and talk of fishing, they were almost inseparable. You and your mother sat there making fun of them.

“You two are happy,” she said. First, you thought it was a question, but no, she was making an observation. “I meant what I said to him, you were never this passionate with…what was his name? John?”

You giggled and looked at Frankie who was, of course, looking at you. He always was. He winked and lifted his beer bottle towards you. “We’re very happy.”

“Do you think you’ll remarry?” she asked and your head whipped around to her.

“Mom, I’m really not thinking about that right now. We’re just…going where life takes us.” You smiled over at the man who had become your life. “Whether we get married or not, I know he’s the one.”

“I can see that in the way you two look at each other like you’re the only people in the world. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” Your mom had just finished her sentence as the men made their way over.

“I think they’re talking about us,” your dad said and Frankie sat beside you, kissing your shoulder then pressing his head against it.

“Maybe we were.” You pinched Frankie’s cheek and he chuckled.

“Good stuff I hope,” he said.

“Always,” you said and he gave you that look. “We should head home.” You were lost in his eyes but pulled away long enough to look at your parents. “We’re both tired.”

Your parents stood and you both did the same, following them around to the front of the house. Frankie had his arm around you and made a face, making you laugh. Your dad looked back at you two and you think he smiled.

After your goodbyes, you got into the car and sighed in relief. “That was…something,” you said, starting the car.

“That’s an understatement, babe.”

*

Back at home, you two were under your fort again, which Frankie had convinced you to call Fuerte Francisco.

“I still can’t believe it gets to be named after you.” You looked down at the chessboard between the two of you and made your move.

“You got a better name?” he asked, studying the board.

“Hm…nope.”

“Exactly.” He finally made a move then waited for you.

“Check,” you said happily, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Every time,” he groaned.

“So…if the fort is named after you does that mean you’re like…a king?” you asked, waving the king chess piece around.

“Maybe so but you wanna know something?” He picked up the queen and held it in his hand. “A king is nothing without his queen.”

You get on your hands and knees over the chessboard to kiss him. “Are you always this sweet?”

“I was actually just hoping you’d let me win next time,” he joked, laughing harder when you shoved him.

“You’ve won enough,” you said. “You won my heart.”

He leaned in to kiss you again but stopped. “Is that just a nice way of saying you won’t let me win a game of chess?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll take it.”

[twenty-two]

pragma taglist: @cable-kenobi @saltywintersoldat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pedrosdoll @psychobillybunny @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @keeper0fthestars @mrsparknuts @thinemineours @huliabitch @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @mrscrain-x7 @fioccodineveautunnale @gooddaykate @themilkface @ms-dont-care @mus1caln0tes @awesomefandomsunited @seawhisperer @virtualxjournality @badassbaker​ @lokiaddicted @forever-rogue @sloantravels @javier-djarin​ @longitud-de-onda

permanent taglist: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @tiffdawg​ @smartsexycalmreflective @cryptkeepersoul​ @heresathreebee​ @jawabear​

[bush-viper-cutie]

Midnight Stars Tree

Pairing: young!severus X reader

Word Count: 5,350

Rating: E for Everyone

Plot: Three days before the start of seventh year, you attend a yearly potions demonstration at a wizard hotel across the street from a wizard museum. Every student seventeen and older participate in a tradition where you skip the last demonstration to hide away in a secret spot in the museum with someone of your choosing.

Warnings: None

A/N: Requested by anon (exact request found at the bottom) and I hope you like it :D I really liked the story so it got a bit long but I hope there were enough cuddle scenes! So many cute types of cuddles to choose from so I included many XD

Posted: 7/16/20

Masterlist

—–

(L/n) = last name

—–

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

“Children! Gather around! Please!” Professor Slughorn waved a parchment over his head, trying to capture the attention of over a dozen excited students.

The hotel lobby was full of students from other wizarding schools. All also attending the yearly potions convention before the start of term where the world’s most notorious potions masters would brew together in the world’s largest cauldron.

Most students had clearly signed up just to travel and stay at a famous wizard hotel, away from Hogwarts and the other teachers. Everyone knew Slughorn was laid back enough to allow almost anything to happen. All-nighters? Wandering around the wizard museum after hours? Visiting the rooms of foreign wizards? He had a very agreeable reputation, Horace Sees-Nothing Slughorn.

You stood in the back with your friends, eager to get assigned your rooms. Thankfully, you were seventeen, which meant you’d guarantee room on the top floor where they put both girls and boys in together – separate rooms of course. Not like that stopped anyone.

“Alright, let’s not get distracted,” he laughed and put on his glasses. He unrolled the parchment and started listing off names and handing out golden glittering stones with numbers on them.

The youngest students were called on first, next the fifth years, sixth, and lastly seventh years. You were among the seventh years quickly ushered into the fireplace that would take you and your bags to the very top floor.

You stepped in and held your breath as the bright cold flames rose to your nose and whisked you away to the last floor. You exited and coughed the soot out of your lungs, quickly spotting your friend down the hall. It had begun. The frenzied ritual of finding out who was in the rooms across and to either side.

You took out the rock and walked ahead of your friend to the door with the same number and knocked with the rock. It swung open and a familiar scent of freshly washed sheets made you smile instantly. You left the door open and ran to the far bed, setting down your stuff as a form of first dibs.

“You won’t believe who’s across the hall!” your friend threw their bags down and jumped with excitement.

“Is it that tall Ravenclaw whose been eyeing you since last year? The one with the swooshy hair like ‘honey’?”

They laughed and jumped onto the bed, “Yes!”

Well, it looked like shenanigans were already scheduled for your friend for the weekend, but now the question was how would you join in on the fun? “So, did you see who else is around by any chance?”

“No one else worth talking about. OH. Except for that Snape guy. He’s to our left and rooming with Sirius Black! So you can guess how that’ll go. I bet Sirius will beg every girl on this floor, Hogwarts or not, to sleep in their room.”

“He’ll ask anyone alive just to get away from him.”

There was a knock at the door.

You sat up quickly and laughed, “That was fast!”

You opened the door with hips on your hands ready to slam the door in Sirius’ face. Your six other friends pushed through and flopped onto your bed, taking out the museum brochure and weekend plans.

“They have a Midnight Stars tree!”

“The crystal room has couches!”

“Did you see who was across your room!”

You sat on your friend’s bed and scanned the museum brochure. There were dozens of rooms perfect for what everyone was calling the ‘Secret Skip’, where for the final performance – the one where the world’s leading potioneers would brew the most complicated potion in the largest cauldron in the wizarding world at the same time – everyone from the top floor would skip and run to an available hidden spot with your chosen sweetheart.

You had two nights to find the spot and claim it and two days to find the perfect boy. “We’ll have to spread out and remember which rooms are a go and which are definitely no good.”

. . .

It was after dinner and Slughorn had already gone down every hall with Hogwarts students, knocking and telling everyone to go to bed. After a long day’s planning, your friends got up and left to their rooms, leaving you with the list of most to least romantic-sounding spots.

You changed into your night clothes and washed your teeth, ready to pass out from all the planning when a loud THUMP nearly knocked the signed and framed pillowcase off the wall over your bed.

“What are they doing! They’ll kill me if they keep going!”

Your friend shrugged and blew out their bedside candle, “Who cares. Just take the frame down.”

THUMP

The frame fell off the wall and onto your pillow, “I’m going over and yelling at them.”

“What! No!”

You opened the door and looked to either side, making sure Slughorn wasn’t still walking around. It was empty and the few floating candles illuminated either end well enough to satisfy your concern. You turned and knocked on their door hard enough to indicate your anger.

THUMP

You knocked again and the door cracked open.

Sirius smiled at you and opened the door further, “Ah. What can I do for you so late into the night?”

You frowned and pushed passed him, marching inside ready to tell them off. You gasped instead, seeing articles of clothing thrown around the room and a bed fully tipped over towards the door, pillow shredded in two.

“What happened! You trash your room already?”

THUMP

Your head shot up towards the tall wardrobe where the noise was coming from, “Is that a boggart?”

“It is, so best not to open it up,” Sirius motioned for the door.

“Where’s your roommate?” you made your way over to the wardrobe and hovered your hand over the handle.

Sirius put his hands up quickly, “Oh, he wet his trousers and went home. Slimy git couldn’t contain his excitement.” THUMP “Told me he actually came for the demonstration,” he laughed.

You scoffed and pulled on the handle. Snape tumbled out nearly knocking you over. You caught his elbows and helped him but quickly pushed him away as soon as he was steady.

Sirius laughed, “Oh, there you are.”

Snape bared his teeth at Sirius, “I’m telling! Wait till Slughorn finds out you and your friends are planning to break into the museum across the street! He’ll send you packing.”

“Try it, Snivelly!”

Your eyes widened, “Wait! You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Snape pushed passed you towards the door, standing as tall as possible in an attempt to match Sirius’ height.

You pulled him back by his robes, “Wait please!”

“Snivellus is just upset he’ll be sitting with the babies.” Sirius held out his wand, standing taller, “Maybe I’ll just turn you into a weasel for the weekend, since you already act like one, eh Snivelly? Where’s your wand?”

Snape jumped back, realizing his wand was not on him and instead laying at the door to the restroom.

You stepped forward, holding out your hands, “Stop it, Sirius.” You turned to Snape, “Please don’t tell. You’ll ruin the weekend for everyone on this floor.”

“How? By making you attend the demonstration you signed up to see? Get over yourself. I’d only be ruining the weekend for you dull ‘populars’ with nothing better to do than commit crimes. What you’re doing is stupidly reckless.”

You crossed your arms and tried to not be offended by his words, “We’re just having fun, Snape.”

“He’s a lost cause, (L/n). He’s just mad no one’ll take him.”

“AM NOT,” Snape growled.

“You just don’t know how fun it’s supposed to be. What if you hang out with me and we go exploring together? Join me while we scope out the museum,” you kept your eyes on Snape as Sirius laughed at your offer.

“What, YOU’LL take him? Are you mad?”

Snape shook his head confused. He was always the type to question everything, “What do you mean?”

You gave him your best smile, “Saturday and Sunday night walk around with me, after the day’s demonstrations. It’ll be fun. And if you still want to tell on us and make us all sit through Monday morning’s demonstration then… Fine.”

“I’m not hearing this,” Sirius rubbed his eyes.

Snape looked into your eyes, his scowl slowly lowered and he finally spoke, “I don’t see the point.”

“But you’ll join me anyways? Just to look around?” You could tell it wasn’t working, he seemed as distant and unapproachable as always. Ready to turn everyone who wasn’t his friends down.

“Snivelly’s too scared to. I’m not though. I’ll gladly – ”

For a second his eyes flicked to Sirius. “Alright,” his voice was low and spiteful.

You nodded and turned to leave, quickly looking at Sirius first, “If you do ANYTHING to make him tell, I’M telling everyone YOU ruined this.”

You marched to the door and exited the room. The hall was still empty and quiet and very few lights were seeping under doors now. You knocked on your own door and hoped your friend hadn’t fallen asleep yet. You were so mad you forgot you needed the rock to get back in.

They opened the door immediately and pulled you in, “I heard everything! You’re really going to hang out with him?”

You shrugged, “He can’t tell if he broke in too. Besides, it’s just to find my spot and claim it.”

“But what about finding someone! No one’s going to talk to you with Snape hanging around like a dark cloud.”

You sighed and yawned, “I’ll figure something out during the demonstrations tomorrow.”

. . .

Students were slowly and quietly filing out of their rooms with wands held brightly in front of them, down to the end of the hall with the fireplace. You left your room and waved at your friend as they walked on without you. You knocked on the door to your left and tapped your foot impatiently.

“Snape!” you whispered.

The door opened and Snape poked his head out and looked around before stepping out, “This is a bad idea. If you had any sense at all you’d go back to bed.”

You smiled amused, “Then why are you joining me?”

He glared down at you but didn’t speak.

Did Snape actually want to break into the museum for fun? You held back a laugh, “Come on, we didn’t spend all day listening to some ghost squeal about historical artifacts for nothing. Slughorn is fast asleep after the boring day and we are going to go have fun.”

You reached passed him and closed his door for him before walking down the deserted hall. Snape’s unsure steps followed.

. . .

One of the museum janitors – apparently some guy that had graduated Hogwarts twenty years ago – had left the side door open for the students and guarded it with a tall staff and a mop. The museum entrance was silent, but out in the distance bouncing lights could be seen, deep into the beast exhibit.

You pulled out your pamphlet and ran your finger down all the starred spots you had called dibs on among your friends. The closest spot was the botanical gardens named ‘Satanical Botanicals’.

“Follow me,” you led the way through a long passageway made of rocks that made your hairs stand on end with electricity.

“People shouldn’t be in here without a guide. All these plants are toxic and poisonous,” Snape dodged a purple-fanged jug plant as it tried to dig into his shoulder.

“Not true, that one was neither,” you giggled.

There were four benches located in the gardens and two were in use by a couple of Hufflepuffs. You walked around to the first bench and saw it was among a snaring prickle vine. The last one was surrounded by whispering wisterias hanging low off the branches. The gardens were dark after closing time and the light purple flowers hummed and glowed faintly.

“This is a good spot,” you sat down at the bench and looked around at the flower bunches swaying. “Romantic.”

“Sure, if you want to be put to sleep and pass out in the dirt,” he pressed his hair down over his ears.

You stood up quickly just as a yawn came over you, “I’ll just cross this one out… Next spot.”

The Midnight Stars tree was across the museum and there was only one way through to it. The corridor was dark with lights only seen out of the corner of your eyes. You stood at the entrance and looked in, trying to spot something in the dark.

“We shouldn’t go through there,” Snape stepped back.

“We’ll run. Easy and fast,” you folded up your brochure and stuffed it in your pocket.

You took a step in, then another, looking back and hoping Snape was following you in. He wasn’t big or intimidating, not by his build at least, but his presence did have a slightly calming effect, or, the knowledge that he knew far more hexes than anyone at school calmed you down.

He glanced at you briefly before stepping in after you. Cold white mist surrounded your ankles and shrieks of pain sounded in the distance. You took off running, Snape still behind, and almost tripped as red flames burst to your right and a white translucent hand shot up to grab you. You jerked away and fell forward out of the corridor, tripping Snape.

“Watch it!”

“Sorry! I-I got spooked,” you stood up and held out your hand to help him up.

He ignored it and stood, dusting himself off, “I’m going in first next time. They can’t touch you. Read the brochure.”

The Midnight Stars tree was standing tall, it’s branches spanning the tall ceiling and walls and lantern flowers blooming full force in the dark. There was no need for windows or floating candles for this room. It was well illuminated in the room by itself. No one had made it this far, likely because of the grotesque corridor of ghosts of burning witches.

“This is perfect!” You ran up to the tree and spun around, admiring the way the flower petals swayed like real fire. “Give me a lift?”

“I’m not getting on my hands and knees for you,” the flowers illuminated in his dark eyes like flames, making them seem deeper like an endless hall of shadows.

He seemed very stubborn and quick to judge, “That’s not what I meant, just… give me a boost. Please?”

The please seemed to melt him slightly, just enough to at least consider it. He looked up at the closest branch and stepped onto the soft grass towards you. He uncrossed his arms and laced his long fingers together and stood unsure beside you. His eyes snapped to yours as you put your hand on his shoulder to lower him down to your height.

You wiped your shoe on the grass and put it in his hands, placing both hands on his shoulders and looked up at the closest branch. It was only a few feet above your reach and a swift boost should do the trick. You turned back and gasped softly, not expecting him to be so close. His nose only an inch from yours.

“Just do it,” he murmured.

You nodded and pushed off, reaching high for the branch. Snape’s fingers unclasped and your foot pushed through, knocking you down onto him. You screamed and fell forward, knocking him to the ground. His arms had automatically tried to latch onto you as an attempt to stabilize himself. You opened your eyes, glad to not be in any pain and realized he was still holding you as you laid on him. He groaned and opened his eyes.

You pushed up and sat, pressing your hands to your lips, “Are you ok? I’m sorry!”

His kept his hands on your hips and looked up at you, nodding slowly. “My hands were sweaty and… Sorry.”

You noticed his cheeks were turning a deep red and slowly spreading across his nose as his embarrassment rose. His hair spread out on the grass below and a ladybug walked over the sea of black, the lights reflected in its shiny yellow spots. You swung your leg and fell back onto the grass, feeling his hands leave your side.

“Thanks for trying to catch me,” you smiled and looked down, feeling your own blush spread over your face. You hadn’t expected to ever be so close to him, let alone fall into his arms. Fall into Snape’s arms and to be held firmly by his soft hands.

He sat up and pulled his legs in, wrapping his arms around himself and looked down at the ground at the little bug that had fallen off his hair. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I didn’t do it on purpose – let you fall. It just happened.”

You giggled and plucked some grass, “My hero. Thanks for giving me a safe landing.”

He looked over and a tiny smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. His hard edges smoothed, and his normal aggressive demeanor vanished. It almost seemed like the Snape that walked the halls of Hogwarts with a scowl and stone-cold eyes had cracked just enough to let light into his dark eyes. His lips looked as soft and smooth as his voice felt.

His smile dropped suddenly, and he stood, “We should go.”

You nodded and followed him through the dark corridor, averting your eyes from the pained faces of the ghosts. There were still students roaming the museum, but you still followed Snape back into the hotel. You opened your room door without another word to him as he entered his own room.

. . .

“Last night to mark your spot,” your friend reminded you as they headed out of your room to join the other students.

All day you had been chancing glances at Snape, and you could swear he had been chancing glances at you too. Whatever happened under the Midnight Stars Tree last night had changed something in you. Snape was no longer some classmate who you were vaguely aware existed.

Since finding yourself inches from his face you hadn’t stopped thinking of him all day. The way his eyes seemed to glow, the way his pink lips curled, and the slightest hint of laugh lines appeared on his face. Every time you had caught his eyes just as he looked away made you blush and smile. You had looked at your hands and bit your lips trying not to look like a fool in love. Because you weren’t. But maybe, you did have a small little crush on ‘that Snape guy’.

You stood from your bed and checked the mirror to make sure you looked ok in the outfit – the one that you had brought for specifically ‘Secret Skip’ which was tomorrow. “What am I doing?” you whispered to yourself and headed out the door.

You knocked on Snape’s door and waited, rocking back and forth on your toes and heels with your hands folded in front of you. No one answered the door. You knocked again. Nothing.

“Snape? You’re still hanging out with me… yeah?”

There was a rustle coming from inside and Snape opened the door. He looked you up and down slowly and then out towards the ends of the hall.

“I won’t tell, alright? Your threat made Sirius leave me alone – surprisingly – so you can just go pick your spot or whatever with all your other friends. You don’t have to hang out with me.”

You bit your lip and smiled, “They’d all be too afraid to go through that corridor with me. I’d feel safer if I was with you.”

He kept his eyes on the end of the hall, but his lips tugged into a slight smile of amusement, “If you prefer.”

. . .

The museum seemed a bit more rambunctious now, with students running from place to place trying to get to their spots before the next. There were hushed laughter and whispered arguments echoing through every exhibit. Except for the Midnight Stars Tree room.

“You said you’d go first, remember?” you pushed on his back slightly, feeling him lean back into your push.

He sighed, “Fine…” He took out his wand and held it up as he started forward.

You followed close behind and kept your eyes on his robes as you ran, ignoring the bursting flames to either side. You both came out the other end without tripping over each other.

“Don’t think you have to mark your spot, considering no one’s even been here.”

You shrugged and walked forward, “Just in case.”

You took your wand and traced your room number on the lower part of the trunk, watching the numbers glow gently. You turned back and sat down next to Snape, incredibly aware of how close your hands were to his – until he moved.

“Should we leave now then?” he bent his head over his knees, resting on his chin.

“Your name’s Severus, right?”

He shifted his head to rest on his cheek, nodding carefully.

“The grass is soft, isn’t it?” Your attempt at small talk was laughable.

He nodded and placed his hands back down next to yours, looking down to make sure they never touched. You laid back on the soft grass and smiled when he joined, your inner hands still almost touching.

“Your… outfit looks nice.”

You bit your lip trying not to smile and giggle at his compliment. Severus Snape liked what you were wearing? “Do… you think it’s cute?” Were you pushing it?

He nodded slowly and his hand inched closer by only a few grassy blades. You did the same and felt your pinky brush up against his. The next second his hand was over yours and you were turning your palm up for him. His hand was soft and warm, wrapping around yours perfectly. Each slender finger fit between yours and held you as firmly as when you had fallen onto him the night before.

You lifted his arm with your intertwined hand and slid closer to him, so that your arms were tucked cozily between you as your head rested on his shoulder. You held your breath waiting for a response and felt his cheek rest on your head. You breathed in and noticed his clothes still smelled like the potions classrooms and giggled quietly, wondering if he had been brewing during the few days stay at the hotel.

You let go of his hand and pushed it away, choosing instead to lean on his body and place your arm over him. He wrapped his arm around you and pushed you closer, holding you to him as if you’d suddenly run away. You held him just as tight.

Your hand slid from his side to his chest, feeling the way his chest rose with every breath. His fingertips traced the length of your arm and then brushed through your hair gently. It was relaxing laying there under the glowing flowers that looked like dancing flames in the sky. Your knee rested on his thigh and just like that you were the most comfortable you’ve ever been.

You stayed like that for several minutes, shyly enjoying each other until you heard Sirius’ voice from the other side of the corridor of ghosts.

“(L/n)!”

You stood quickly and stepped away from Severus, knowing Sirius would just love catching the two of you together like that.

Sirius burst through the darkness and looked back as another boy came through right behind him. You recognized the other boy. A Hufflepuff with emerald green eyes and who was known as the third best looking boy in the school by many. You were surprised to find him walking besides Sirius, considering he was rarely seen with anyone other than his own Quidditch team.

“(L/n), finally found you,” Sirius smiled. He looked down at Severus sitting on the grass and arched his brow. “Since you’ve been taking one for the team, having to put up with Snivelly for two nights I thought I’d do you a favor.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” You noticed Severus slowly backing away.

Sirius placed his hand on the Hufflepuff’s shoulder, “I insist. So here.”

The Hufflepuff opened his arms in defeat and winked at you, “I see you’ve picked this spot. So why don’t I join you here tomorrow?”

This was a test, an all too obvious one. If you said no then Sirius would accuse you of having asked Severus, a rumor that was sure to spread fast. The fact it would be Sirius spreading it gave you chills, knowing he could be ruthless at times and who knew what he would say.

“Sure,” you glanced back at where Severus stood last but did not see him.

Sirius looked around too, “Well it’s settled then.”

Severus was nowhere in sight. You smiled politely, “I’ll meet you here then.”

You walked around them and headed into the corridor, running as fast as you could. You couldn’t spot Severus anywhere as you searched from the corridor exit to the front of the museum. He was gone.

. . .

Wizards from all over the world were filing into the auditorium to watch the big demonstration. A giant cauldron stood on the stage where four old wizards in different color robes prepared their ingredients. All the Hogwarts students were sitting in the very back behind Slughorn and the fourth years. Severus sat two rows behind you and avoided eye contact completely as you had found your seat.

The demonstration began and the lights dimmed. Everyone sat quietly and the second the old wizards started dropping things into the sizzling liquid, all the Hogwarts students from floor seven stood and made their way out. You followed your friend and stopped at the door, careful not to be spotted by the Hufflepuff boy with emerald green eyes. He wasn’t even looking for you.

All the back rows were almost empty, except for Severus and a few other students. You made your way down again and sat next to him in the empty chair to his right. He turned and stared at you in confusion. He crossed his arms and sunk into his chair.

The crowd cheered as the smoke turned pink. You extended your hand, hoping he’d know what you meant and take it. He turned and shook his head, his black hair swaying over his shoulder.

You leaned in, “Severus, please? I only agreed so that Sirius would leave us alone. I want to be here with you, enjoying the demonstration. Like you wanted. I was never going to join him.”

He sat unmoving.

You couldn’t see his face and wished desperately to be back under the Midnight Stars tree. You touched his fingers and pulled them out from under his arm, holding his hand tight, “Forgive me?”

His fingers wrapped around your hand and Severus turned back, nodding with the same small smile as normal, “Ok.”

The demonstration went on and you couldn’t help but hug his arm and lean into him. The demonstration was the same boring one as previous years but sitting there was worth it, especially when he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in.

Your hand rested on his knee as you snuggled closer and his arm around your shoulder slid down around your waist. His other hand reached over and held your hand tight as it rested on his knee. His thumb rubbed your skin back and forth like gentle soothing waves.

You closed your eyes and imagined belonging to him and only him. They way he held you felt so right and it didn’t matter where the two of you were, it was just as relaxing. It felt perfect being with him, in the darkness of the theater and under the tree. Severus Snape was everything you wanted.

. . .

The demonstration as over, ending in booming claps and loud whistled cheers. Everyone stood and made their way outside where the other students were already waiting. Slughorn was none the wiser and herded everyone back to the hotel lobby.

Your friends had pulled you aside and told you every juicy detail, and luckily never bothered to ask you about your morning. They knew something was up with you and “that Snape guy” and had the decency not to push passed your walls. The rest of the morning involved packing and before you could say anything to Severus, he had Flooed away.

. . .

The Hogwarts Express arrived and students were filing out, eager to get in the large carriages that took them up to the school. You looked around again, and finally spotted a bobbing black head with sleeked lank hair. You pushed passed the crowd and pulled on his robes.

“Severus! Hi,” you smiled.

His black eyes looked on towards the carriages, “(L/n).” His voice was sharp and cold.

You frowned and waited for the last few stragglers to get in a carriage before speaking again. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something? I thought yesterday was nice, but you left so fast.”

He pulled on the sleeves of his robes and looked down, “You could have said no to him. You could have asked me… I thought you were going to ask me… I wanted you to.”

He looked sad but you weren’t sure what to say. “I thought you wanted to see the demonstration. That’s why you signed up… Sirius would have spread rumors – ”

He stared at you intensely and frowned, hurt plainly visible in his glistening eyes, “Yeah. Everyone would have known you liked me. How awful that would have been.”

He scoffed and made his way to a packed carriage. You made your way to one of the empty ones and sighed, hating the way his lips had trembled.

. . .

It was a week after term had started and dozens of students were enjoying the last few days of summer outside in the courtyard. A light breeze blew that carried laughter throughout. There were groups of friends spread out in every spot. Your group consisted of all your friends and added acquaintances, chattering away about their summers in the far corner next to a group of Gryffindors.

Severus sat hunched on a bench, ignored by everyone as he read and tried to keep his page as the wind blew. His head was hung low and his hair blocked the light from hitting his book, his finger ran across the pages tracing the words.

You looked around and sighed. You jumped down from the low stone wall and made your way over to Severus. You didn’t think he’d notice your shadow since his book was already shrouded in darkness, but he did. He looked up and tilted his head, unsure of your intentions in such a crowded space.

“Can I do something?”

He looked around at the eyes that had started to stare, “Um… s-sure?”

You pushed his book away and stepped between his legs and sat on his thigh. You hooked your arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. His arms wrapped around your waist instinctively and held you carefully. His pale face flushed pink and a wide smile spread across his face as you pulled your lips away.

Within seconds a few Slytherins came over – a part of the gawking crowd moments before. His friends sat around, bewildered by what they were seeing.

“Severus? When did this happen?”

Severus was about to open his mouth when you answered first, “Yesterday.”

Severus shrugged nonchalantly and squeezed you closer, “Told you guys to go.”

You laughed and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, loving the way he bit his lip to stop from smiling too big. You played with his hair as you sat on his lap and joined in the retelling of how it came to be.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Masterlist

Request: “may I request a young sev x reader where they cuddle 🥺🥺 pretty please?” - Anon

[ccsthemovie2]

Touya, O!

Touya + The Stars/Space

"Yukito...cmon, wake up, Yuki, I need to talk to you..."

"Touyaaaaa!"

Really, he half-expected this, but it was worth a shot. In any case, so much for a quiet lunch. At least he doesn't have to bear the force of Akizuki's attention alone- she's towing a friend along behind her. The two of them sport matching braids.

"Touya," Akizuki says, "Yoko wants to know your sign, so tell her!"

"Wet paint."

"You are sooooo silly. No, your star sign! Yoko's got compatibility charts or something I guess."

"It's not compatibility charts," Yoko reassures him quickly. Thank goodness, it was awkward enough to turn her down the one time. Akizuki raises an eyebrow, but blessedly lets it go. "Just horoscope predictions."

Yukito cracks an eye open on his desk, mumbles, "I'm a Capricorn," and gives serious thought to shutting it again. "You know that just offhand?" Touya asks. Anything to keep him awake.

"Mmmhm." And closed goes the eye again.

"Those kids in your sister's class knew theirs, too."

Akizuki nods her agreement.

"Why were you two hanging out by the elementary school?" Touya asks. Yoko's fine, but he wouldn't wish Akizuki on anyone, let alone Sakura.

"Hair braiding contest," Akizuki says, like that explains everything. She swings her head so her braid flies into Touya's face. "Do you like it?"

"Ow."

"You love it. Anyway, what's your star sign, Touyaaa?"

"You believe in them, right?" Yoko asks, a bit nervous that she chose a poor target. "I was just thinking, because you said you've seen a ghost before, right? So like, why draw the line at horoscopes."

"Hmm. I never really gave it much thought-"

"Are we talking magazine horoscopes, or the real stuff?" Akizuki cuts in. She glances at Yoko. "No offense."

Obviously, Yoko takes offense.

"Because I like magazine horoscopes, but they're vaguely written trash I read just for fun, again, no offense. They go off sun signs, Yoko, you need, like, time and place of birth at minimum. Here, gimme the magazine, I'll show you-"

"I was born on February 29th, so look me up."

Privately, he thinks Akizuki might have a point, but he'd side with Yoko over her any day. Yoko shoots him a grateful smile and pulls a thick booklet out of her bag, only for Akizuki to snatch it away. It has a small stamp on the cover that Touya thinks he's seen before.

"Pisces, hmm..."

"Oh, ohh! Hey, this isn't the garbage you showed me this morning! I take it back, you got the real deal!"

He stares at the cover until he gets it- oh, that's what it is. Sakura's magic used to make that design show up. It's harder to recognize small.

"Oh no!" Yoko grabs back the booklet. "That's not mine!"

"It's about the same size as a normal magazine," Akizuki shrugs. "You must've swapped it with one of the kids. That glasses girl and the boy who did my hair were looking at something like that, remember?"

"I should give it back..."

"Nahhh. They'll have a blast with your magazine, elementary school kids don't know any better," and then Akizuki tosses her head back and laughs and laughs at a joke only she seems to be in on. She grabs a pencil from Touya's desk and leans over Yoko's shoulder, scribbling furiously.

"Right. Touya, your horoscope for this month is, sharing is caring- your lunch, but also your feelings. SO true. Give me your lunch."

"Absolutely not."

But it was true that he was looking to get something off his chest, if Akizuki didn't actively make it so hard for him. Maybe there was something to, as she put it, "the real stuff".

"Didn't you say you needed his time and place of birth?" Yoko asked. Akizuki wiggled her eyebrows in a way Touya did not care for at all before she went off scribbling again. She poked Yukito hard in the back.

"Mmph?"

"Listen up, I have your future here. It's an eat or be eaten world."

Yukito leans over to see the book.

"You got some things wrong, Nakuru. I wasn't born in Tomoeda."

"Also," Yoko laughs, "You wrote his birth year wrong. He's not three."

"My mistake." Akizuki smiles sweetly at Yukito and all Touya feels is danger, danger, danger. "Where were you born, again?"

Yukito's brow furrows in concentration before he makes a sad noise and buries his head fully in his arms.

"Back off and let Yukito sleep," says Touya. "You're bothering him."

"It would be my pleasure to let him sleep," she says, and stares him right in the eye. "Forever, if possible."

"C'mon, Nakuru," Yoko says nervously. "Let's go give the kids their book before lunch ends."

Akizuki blows Touya a kiss. He doesn't want it.

"Fine," she says, and spins around to leave.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

I also find very funny that I said Jon would take care of Sansa in the next chapter and everybody’s mind just went straight to the gutter. Honestly guys... This has a M rating... LOL

***

Chapter 3

Sansa woke up feeling confused and groggy. Her body felt heavy and she was convinced someone had given her poppy milk the day before. She remembered having a headache, so she’d probably had some before going to bed.

But… Why couldn’t she remember doing that?

Sansa sat up on her bed, and noticed she was alone. Jon must have left for his morning training, even though she couldn’t remember him coming to bed.

She looked out the window and saw it wasn’t as early as she’d thought it’d be.

How long had she slept?

That was when she remembered! She’d fainted the day before.

Oh Seven, how embarrassing.

She’d been dealing with that headache and then she argued with Jon and fainted! It’d been before the midday meal… Had she slept all this time?

The door opened and a maid entered. “Your Grace!” She smiled at Sansa. “I was coming to wake you up.”

“How long have I slept?” She wanted to know.

“Almost a whole day.” The maid told her simply.

“What?” Sansa sprung from the bed. “A whole day?”

“Almost.” The maid pointed out again. “It’s hardly an hour later than you’d normally awake, Your Grace.”

“Oh no! I have so many things to…”

The maid seemed uncomfortable now. “You see… Your Grace… The King…”

Sansa’s head snapped in the girl’s direction. “What has he done?” She asked.

“He asked us to prepare you a bath and breakfast.” The maid hurried to explain. “And that after that he’ll come see you.”

“But I have things to do.” Sansa insisted.

“The Maester and Lady Arya have divided your morning tasks between themselves, Your Grace. They’ll take care of it.”

“Sam and Arya?” What was going on? “Can you tell…” Sansa took a deep breath in. “Can you ask the King to come to see me as soon as possible?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The girl left and Sansa took a deep breath in. What were they all doing? Sam and Arya were now doing her work? What was Jon even thinking?

She needed to calm down. Besides, a bath did sound like a good idea; she still felt a bit groggy.

The water was deliciously hot when she entered the bath, and it smelled like lavender. The bath did wonders for her, especially when one of the maids came back to help her wash her hair.

When she was done, she went to her sollar to find a meal waiting for her, full of her favorite things.

Sansa wasn’t sure what this was all about, but she sat down and started eating. Jon arrived a bit after that.

“Sansa.” He sighed in relief, a small grin on his lips. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. What is going on?”

Jon cleared his throat and pulled a chair to sit down. “You fainted yesterday. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Sam said it was because you were exhausted.” Jon explained to her. “And it makes perfect sense. You’ve been acting as my hand and mistress of the Keep. You should’ve told me you were overloaded.”

“I’m not.” She protested. “I can do both.”

“You don’t have to.” Jon insisted. “I know you’re doing your best, but I don’t want you to do this at the expense of your health. I would like you to consider working solely as my Hand, and passing the running of the keep to someone else.”

That gave Sansa pause. “You want me to remain as your Hand?”

“Of course.” Jon’s tone was serious. “I need you by my side. I know you were raised to be the lady of the house, but I’d rather you work solely as my Hand.”

Sansa lowered her gaze. “I thought you’d prefer the other way around.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Sansa.” Jon sighed. “If you want to stay as my Hand, I’d like that very much. However, if you’d rather take care of the keep…”

“No.” She was quick to say. “I do prefer being your Hand. It’s been… Difficult doing both.” She confessed.

Jon reached out and held her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. You also have many things to do.” She explained, eyes on their hands.

“Even if I do… I’ll always worry about you, Sansa.” His thumb was making circles on her hand. “Especially when you faint and I have to grab you.”

She blushed. “Oh please. Is this what happened?”

Jon chuckled. “It was very heroic of me. You should’ve seen it.” He teased lightly.

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.”

They sat in silence for a while. Jon cleared his throat and got up. “Sam and Arya are taking care of your duties for today. Your only work for now is to think of someone that can take over the managing of the keep. Besides that, try and rest. Do whatever you want.” He paused. “Unless it’s more work.”

Sansa arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that an order, My King?”

Jon leaned over the table, plating his hands on its surface, as he looked into her eyes. “Aye. That is an order.”

After he left, Sansa sat there, completely shocked and more than a little bit excited.

***

It had been a long while since Sansa had been able to enjoy an idle day. Her first business was finding someone else to run the keep, but it turned out to be way too easy. Davos’ wife -Marya - had come to the North and she was really competent. Sansa would pass to her these duties.

After that was done… Sansa still had a lot of free time.

At first, she’d thought she’d have nothing to do and would spend the day bored.

It wasn’t the case.

She embroidered -something she loved doing and hadn’t been able to do for a while -and talked to the women around the keep.

It was nice talking and just being around other people.

In the end, the day passed fast.

It was as if she’d blinked and then she was supping with her family.

Jon had arranged an intimate dinner for them. While they normally supped in the main hall with others, tonight it was only the Starks, Sam and Gilly, Davos and Marya, and Tormund.

They were laughing and talking and things were great.

Sansa wondered if she’d been so tired lately that she hadn’t been able to enjoy simple things like this moment. After everything they’d been through, it’d be a waste to not appreciate these moments to the fullest.

She’d almost forgotten why they’d fought so hard to protect the North. They’d done it for their family, the people they loved.

Sansa didn’t know how long they were talking and drinking, but at some point she rested her cheek on Jon’s shoulder.

“Sansa?” His thumb caressed her cheek. “Are you tired?”

“I didn’t do anything the whole day.” She pointed out.

“I think Sansa’s drunk.” Arya commented, looking amused by the idea.

“I’ll take her to bed.” Jon said getting up and helping Sansa do the same. “Thank you all for the help today.”

“It was our pleasure.” Marya smiled at the King.

Jon guided Sansa through the hallways as she laughed for no reason.

“You look happy.” He commented, a fond smile on his lips.

“It was a great day. I didn’t know I needed this.”

“I’m glad you had the chance to rest.” They’d reached the door to their room. “I’ll get someone to help you out of your dress.”

“There’s no need.” She told him as she dropped her cloak on the bed. “If you can just untie the back for me, I can take care of the rest.”

Jon paused. “Are you sure? Because…”

“I don’t want to wait. Come on, Jon!” She gave him her back, pulling her hair over her shoulder. “Just do this.”

Jon could do this. It was a really simple task. Once he loosened the ties he’d wait somewhere else for her to finish getting undressed.

He took off his glove and started pulling at the laces of her dress.

“Jon?” Sansa called softly.

“Sansa?” He called back, a grin on his lips.

“Thank you for today.” She told him, her voice low and intimate. “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

“I didn’t know anyone needed this.” Jon admitted. “We’ve been working non-stop for so long, Sansa… And you… You’ve done so much, sacrificed so much for us.” Jon had finished his task and it was time to leave, but… She was there and the night was so quiet… “I wish I could give you the world, Sansa, but -unfortunately- this is all I have to give.”

Sansa was quiet for so long, that Jon feared he’d said something amazingly stupid and she was wondering why she had to…

Sansa turned to him suddenly, arms going around his neck. Jon realized her intent a second before her lips were on his and she was pressing her body against his.

Jon couldn’t believe she was kissing her like this, with all the candles still burning and because she chose to.

And he knew all her kisses, the sweet ones, the careful ones and the hungry ones. When she kissed him like this -open mouthed and urgent - Jon knew they’d have a long night, because her desire fueled his and they would end up stuck on this never ending circle.

Jon really liked those nights.

However, she’d never kissed him in the light like then; Sansa never allowed him to even touch her before the candles were blown out. But she was kissing him, pulling at his clothes and biting his lower lip.

Her urgency made Jon lose his control and, before the thought had fully formed on his head, he was pulling at her clothes.

They’d never been this clumsy before. Clothes got stuck halfway and Jon almost fell down trying to take off his boots. They were both in an insane hurry, like they feared this would end if they didn’t get it done. As if it was a spell that would end by midnight and they’d never know what could have been.

Jon hadn’t even finished taking off his clothes when he picked Sansa up and dropped her on the bed -less charmingly than he’d have wished for. Sansa herself still had some clothes on, but he just had to do this, because he was terrible with words, but maybe like this she’d know how much he loved her.

She had to… Right?

He peeled her stockings and small clothes down her legs, before he kissed the inside of her thighs, brushed his beard against the sensitive skin.

He felt Sansa’s fingers grabbing at his curls as he drank from her, his name a prayer on her lips.

He’d have spent another hour -or three -doing just that, but Sansa pulled him up, bringing his lips to hers, uncaring that her taste was still on them.

Jon’s shirt was thrown away, his pants merely lowered enough to be out of the way, since Sansa wouldn’t let him get too far.

Jon pushed inside her, feeling her hot body receiving him.

“Jon…” She mewled sweetly.

Jon grabbed her waist and rolled them both, so he was on his back and Sansa was on top of her. “Jon!” She screeched, making him chuckle.

He sat up on the bed and cradled her face as he brought her in for a kiss. “Today you can have whatever you want.” He promised against her lips.

Sansa caressed his cheek. “Even you?” She asked.

“You always have me, Sansa.” He assured her.

There were tears in her eyes when she kissed him and Jon was mesmerized by them. Even after he helped her out of her shift, he couldn’t look away from her eyes.

That night, as Sansa took him, Jon had the mad hope -for the first time ever -that Sansa might love him as well.

***

Notes: Next one is the last one ;)