#battle shout is about half grown so i will finish her tomorrow

[afkintheark]

Was doing a short meat run and found an orphaned gigantoraptor. It wouldn't let me claim it of course but Kel brought Storm over and got her that way. She is gorgeous and a lot better than our current pair, I'm going to bring Rusty over and breed them until I can get a clone of her. \o/

Spent the majority of today raising babies, Kel had all of hers out but I had enough space to put the yutis out. We're raising the male for a breeder so he's not getting imprinted, but our Battle Shout got doted on until we got bored. XD

I finally got to drag Kel into the ocean. We got another pair of artifacts and I showed all my favorite metal spots. There were a ton of mosas out but a 90 was the highest we found so we cleaned them all out, hopefully we'll have better spawns next time we go. Almost got a male anglerfish but he snuck into a group of low-levels and got bit by a deino, so we gave up tranqing him before we killed him. If he doesn't despawn or get himself killed by something else, hopefully we'll find him again.

[blufanfictionthings]

First Fall

This is for Writer Wednesday 8/11/21 by @autumnleaves1991-blog. It’s a BuckyxF!Reader. No trigger warnings just cute stuff! Definitely AU though. @clydesducktape (for the master list!!)

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Bucky smiled softly as the leaves crunched under his feet as he made his way into Avengers HQ. Autumn was upon the avengers; Yelena rushed up to Bucky.

“Are you leaving today?” She asked; Bucky nodded; “I am leaving tomorrow; I am going to Natasha’s grave.”

Bucky nodded and held the door open for her as they walked into HQ. Yelena waved as she headed towards the gym. Bucky made his way up to Steve’s office.

“I already put it in the system that you were not to be called if there is a mission,” Steve said, Bucky thanked him and went to leave when Sam stopped him.

“Sarah and the kids are flying in on Thursday; I'm picking them up and we will be there on Friday,” Sam explained; he grabbed a bag from the table and handed it to Bucky. “Delta asked for apples from the orchard. Don't eat them.”

Bucky scowled and took the bag from his friend.

“I’m not going to eat them,” he said before walking out and heading towards the garage to climb onto his bike to start the two-hour trip upstate, a trip he took every weekend to see you. After the battle, you had helped rebuild but decided to retire; with Tony and Natasha dead you felt that Delta wouldn’t be as helpful. You had grown angry at the world, you had bought Pepper and Tony’s cabin when Pepper had returned to New York to run Stark industries and became reclusive. Only really seeing anyone once a year when everyone got together to celebrate Halloween and the Anniversary of the battle. With the apples secured in his bag; along with some clothes and his toothbrush. He rode out of the garage and towards the interstate.

When he arrived at Stark's cabin; a smile graced his lips as he watched a Nine-year-old Morgan Stark play tag with her four-and-a-half-year-old brother. Tony’s last gift to Pepper before he died in battle.

“Uncle Bucky!!!” Morgan yelled as the super-soldier took off his helmet. Anthony Jr. chased her, yelling his name. Bucky caught the nine and four-year-old in his arms and hugged them.

“Where are your mom and aunt?” he asked after he set Morgan down. He looked around for Pepper and You. Morgan grinned

“Auntie is finishing our Halloween costumes!” She said, leading the man into the cabin where Pepper was laughing at something you had said; he grinned.

“Mommy!” Morgan shouted before jumping in front of Bucky and throwing her hands in the air. “TADA!”

You turned to face Bucky with a small smile on your face as you took him in, it had been a couple of weeks since he was able to come to the cabin.

“James.” You whispered; he handed Anthony to Pepper and pulled you into a breathtaking kiss. You could hear Morgan saying how gross it was but ignored the girl. After you broke apart Bucky grinned.

“I missed you!” He said; you laid your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you too!” you said; as your hug ends Bucky relays Sam's message causing you to smile.”I'm glad they're able to come. Give me the apples, you didn't eat any did you?”

Bucky frowned at the accusation, but took his pack off and unzipped it to reveal the bag of apples. A dreamy sigh left your lips.

“The best thing about HQ is the Apple orchards,” you said with a grin. Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to Morgan.

“At least you love me right kid?” he asked; Morgan grinned and nodded her head. You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek.

“You know I love you, Dummy,” you said; he smiled and shook his head. “Pepper you and the kids staying for supper?”

Pepper shook her head, Morgan frowned; not wanting to leave.

“I've got a meeting, plus I need to make sure Peter and Ned come out of the labs for dinner. May said he didn't been home for dinner for a week so I have to chase them home.”

You laughed and hugged her before crouching down to talk to Morgan.

“I'll see you tomorrow, we can bake pies okay?” You said the girl nodded and took her mom’s hand. They leave; leaving the couple alone.

“So are you gonna show me how much you missed me, white wolf?” you teased; Bucky smirked, picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder.

“You bet I am,” he said before heading towards your bedroom.

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You smiled as you looked out the window, Sam and Sarah were starting the firepit arguing about how to start it. Morgan was hanging off Peter telling him a story. You touch your stomach.

“Does James know yet?” the voice of your best friend made you jump and drop your hand. You turn to Yelena with a frown.

“Know what?” you asked, avoiding her eyes; Yelena rolled her eyes.

“That you are carrying his child?” she said with a smile; your shoulder sag, “what is it?”

“It's just not fair; Natasha always wanted kids, but the Red Room took that Choice from Her, and you.”

“And you think she would not rejoice in you being pregnant. You will be an amazing mother; if Natasha had ever settled down; she could have adopted. When I’m ready I can adopt, the Red Room took the chance for us to have Biological children, yes, but there are still children that need love, a love that I can provide. So please do not feel guilty for starting your family with the American. Though I do think my father will throw a fit; he assumed you and Natasha were an item.”

You laughed and shook your head

“I don’t need to be with Natasha for him to consider me a daughter; if not for him and your mother I probably wouldn’t have the life I have now.” You said; thinking about the two months that Alexi parked his RV in the yard; making sure you were still fighting. Melina making sure you ate. “Though now that he thought me and Nat were together, it makes a lot more sense. Do you think they would like to be called Grandma and Grandpa? I mean you're going to be godmother and aunt so it only makes sense right.”

Yelena said your name; causing you to turn from the window; tears were welling up in her eyes as she pulled you into a hug.

“Nat would be proud of you.” She said; you smiled as you wrapped your arms around her.

“Nat would be proud of us.” You told her. “I hope this means you’ll be around more.”

Yelena pulled away and nodded; she touched your stomach and smiled.

“I promise to be here for the little one.” She spoke in Russian;

The door opened, Sarah walked in with Sam behind her; the two froze seeing the two ex-spies. A grin appeared on Sam's face as he realized what was going on. Before you could stop him he was back out the door,

“Well, James sure knows now,” Yelena said, taking her hand off of your stomach. Sarah pulled you into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you!” She said as the front door swung open, Bucky stormed in and pulled you into a hug.

“He's telling the truth, right? You're pregnant?” he asked; you smiled and nodded your head.

“You're going to be a father James!” he smiled before spinning you around.

[spidersfanfics]

Fearless

Hermione x Reader | Fluff | Request from Wattpad

After a long day of work, you suggest that Hermione unwind with a movie night. However, when a little bit of banter turns into a challenge, the two of you watch a horror movie that Hermione might not be quite prepared for.

Also I want to preface this by saying I don't watch horror movies, at all. Never have, probably never will. So any opinions I state about horror movies are based on google search results, pls don't come at me XP Enjoy!

"Welcome home," you said as Hermione came in through the door. The two of you shared a quick kiss and she took off her scarf and coat.

Her skin was cold under your touch from the winter wind and you ushered her inside as soon as she kicked off her boots. "How was work?"

"Busy as always," Hermione sighed, dropping off her bag in the lounge as you headed back into the kitchen to finish making dinner. "I think I'm really making headway, but it's hard to fight tradition you know?"

Hermione sat down at the small dining table and you brought over your plates with a smile, "I'm sure they'll come around soon, 'Mione."

"You think?" she asked as she began to eat.

"I do," you agreed, "And I'm proud of the work you've been doing."

"Thanks love," Hermione said, smiling softly. "Dinner's lovely as usual. How was your day?"

You shrug as you begin to dig in as well, "Same old. No news on the job applications yet but hopefully something will stick soon."

"Take your time," Hermione reassured you, "The ministry pays well enough."

"I know," you nod, "I just want to provide for us a little bit more. Something with less hours than you so that I can still cook for us, sure. But I do wanna bring in a some money."

Hermione touched your hand lightly and beamed at you, "I love you, you know that?"

You chuckled and nodded, "I know, I love you too."

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you finished your meals, grown from years of living together. As the last of dinner was cleaned away, you cleared your throat. "Say, 'Mione?"

"Yes?"

"Since tomorrow is a day off for you, I was wondering. Do you wanna stay up tonight and watch a movie?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Are you suggesting a movie night?"

You nod eagerly, "Yeah. It might help you relax a little bit. You've been working so hard lately."

Hermione thought it over for a long moment before nodding, 'Yeah, sure. A movie night sounds lovely. Why don't you go pick something out while I do the dishes?"

"Are you sure?" you asked hesitantly, "I can do the dishes if you're too tired."

She waved off your concerns with one hand, already gathering up the plates. "It's the least I can do for this lovely meal. I'll be just fine."

"Alright," you nod and head off towards the lounge. As you reached the doorway of the kitchen your spun back around and pointed at Hermione, "What kind of movie did you want to watch?"

"Did you have something in mind?" Hermione asked.

You tilt your head back and forth in a sort of uncertain manner, "Well you know I love horror movies but I thought those might not be quite your speed."

Hermione gasped dramatically, "[Y/N]! Are you calling me a wimp?"

"No, of course not!" You say quickly with a sheepish grin, "It's just that whenever I talk about horror you make a face and change the subject."

"Oh I'll show you," Hermione laughed, "Don't you know who I am? I fought at the battle of Hogwarts!"

You laughed along with her and dipped into the lounge with a shake of your head. "Alright then, horror it is," you shouted at the other room.

"You bet it is," Hermione called back.

Soon enough, you had Insidious loaded up and ready to go for when Hermione was done. A horror classic in your opinion and one of the scariest movies you've ever seen. If Hermione wanted to prove she could handle horror, you were going to try your best to scare her.

"Alright, ready to go," Hermione said, joining you on the couch. "What are we watching?"

You gesture to the tv as you pull her closer with one arm around her shoulder. "Insidious," you tell her, "It's got all the best parts of horror. Creepy kids, evil spirits, the works."

She leaned into your touch and rested her head on your shoulder, "Sounds like a blast."

"It is," you grin, "But you know, don't hesitate to tap out if you get too scared." You give her a cheeky smile, "I won't judge."

Hermione just laughed and leaned over you to press play, "In your dreams."

Your light banter tapered off as the movie began and the two of you settled down to enjoy the night. It wasn't long however, before the scares started happening, and Hermione started fidgeting.

"Doing alright?" you whispered to her during moment of calm and she shot you a tense smile.

"Just fine."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her pale and nervous expression but she double down on putting on a brave face so you didn't push it and simply turned back to the movie. However, it wasn't long before another tense moment had Hermione digging her nails into your arm.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You winced with a laugh as you extracted yourself from her vice like grip.

Hermione blushed, "Oops, sorry."

The movie went on and as it only got scarier, Hermione only got jumpier until by the end of it she had buried her head firmly into your chest. Luckily, you were happy to wrap your arms around her and hold her close.

Finally, the credits were rolling and you kissed her gently on the top of the head. "Movie's over, 'Mione." You told her, "You can look now."

Hermione lifted her head and gave you a playfully smug smile, "Told you I could do it."

You laughed and pulled her properly into her lap, which she allowed with laughter and some half-hearted protesting. "I never doubted you for a second," you told her as you closed the gap between you two for a kiss.

When you broke apart, Hermione rested her head against you once more with a contented sigh. "But in all seriousness, maybe next time we will watch something a little calmer."

"You think?" you laughed, rubbing soothing circles across her back.

She nodded, "I think I can deal with real life horror a lot better because then I can actually do something about it. Like when I was in school, sure bad things were happening but I could try and stop it. When I'm watching a horror movie, there's nothing I can do. I just have to watch it all happen."

You petted her hair gently and nodded, "Of course, that makes perfect sense. I'm just a weirdo who likes seeing fictional people scream."

Hermione slid off your lap and laughed before offering you a hand up. "Come on, it's getting late. And I'm not sleeping alone after watching that."

"Which was of course my plan all along," you joke, eagerly taking her hand and allowing her to pull you to your feet.

"Shush, you," Hermione giggled and began to lead you up the stairs. "Oh and now that you've shown me that, I hope you know we are never having kids."

You laughed along with her as the two of you retreated to the bedroom, "A perfectly reasonable conclusion to draw."

[7team7]

Choosing Fate: Chapter 8

A surprise leaves Sasuke and Sakura alone for a while. // Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

A/N: thank you everyone for your encouragement and kind words on this fic. I’m trying to dedicate myself to it and finish it before moving on to new stories, but sometimes that’s still a slower process than I expect? And the plot seems to want to complicate itself more, but I promise more ss moments are coming!! Hope this chapter is ok, the slow burn is still burning

.

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Tsunade was relentless in her tutelage. Sakura’s tutoring sessions with Sasuke were idyllic in comparison. The older woman pushed and pushed and pushed. 

But the discipline and hard work only served to strengthen her. Tsunade raised a brow when the petite woman cracked her knuckles before getting to work everyday. She knew she had found a determined student, but her dedication was truly something remarkable.

And it yielded results. 

Once complicated combinations became embedded in her memory and her hands were able to move without thinking. Tsuande stopped lecturing and started questioning, pushing the envelope: What if we did this? What do you think of that? How would you approach it? 

What started as a favor she agreed to do on a whim became a cherished relationship. Maybe Konoha wasn’t so bad. 

Sakura greatly respected her teacher, but she barely knew the first thing about her. She used to keep her chatter to a minimum while they worked, but she had grown much more comfortable in the Senju’s house. “Tsunade-sama, you were never married, right?” For once, a woman’s professional work had superseded her romantic history. 

Tsunade paused in the middle of tidying up some papers she pulled out for reference. The question wasn’t necessarily unwelcome, but it took her by surprise. No one had asked her about that in a long time. “No. There was someone I would’ve married, but we never got the chance.”

“Did he have to marry someone else?” Arranged marriage was awkward at best, but it would’ve been downright heartbreaking if she was already in love with someone else. 

“He was hurt in battle. And I couldn’t save him.” She sighed heavily, “After him, there was no one else. Why do you think I leave the village so often?” The ghosts of her past would never stop haunting her. Her ties to Konoha weighed heavily. 

“Oh,” she bit her lip, “I’m so sorry.” She assumed Tsunade was just a wild spirit, but the reality was much more tragic. 

She shrugged. Time to change the subject. “And you? Was there someone else before that sulky brat?” 

Sakura opened her mouth to protest, he was not a sulky brat! But then she remembered the way he would hang around outside Tsunade’s house if she wasn’t home before the sun set. “No, I was too young and too busy with my household chores to find someone else. But Sasuke’s not so bad…” She blushed a little; before, she could hardly fathom getting married to Sasuke but now, she couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else. She couldn’t fault him for their circumstances, even if he was a little rough around the edges. 

“And your parents?”

“Ah, they were actually childhood sweethearts. Lucky them,” she said weakly. 

“Well, I guess Sasuke’s good enough for you to stay.” 

“What do you mean?”

“You could always leave. Plenty of women do it.” 

“Oh,” she said, taken aback, “I had never considered that. Where would I even go?” She didn’t think she had a choice in the matter, or any other real options. 

Tsunade raised a brow, “You could go home. Have you been home yet?”

Sakura laughed bitterly and confessed, “Actually, no. It’s not that I don’t want to, I guess I...just haven’t gathered the courage.” Was it her home there anymore? Was she a wife before she was a sister? She started fiddling with a stray herb that had escaped a jar.  

She continued, “I miss my siblings dearly, but it’s easier to just stay away. If I visited home and saw everything I’ve been missing...it would be too hard to come back here. I don’t know if that makes me a good wife or a terrible sister.” She had assumed she was leaving for good after the wedding. Life as Uchiha Sakura might still be new and full of surprises, but it wasn’t completely miserable. Should she expect more? The leaf in her hands was completely pulverized after she worked her anxieties out on it. 

Her mentor nodded in understanding. “You won’t figure it out in a day. And when you feel like you’ve got it, something will change and you’ll be back at square one. That’s life.” 

Sakura nodded glumly. She supposed being young almost always meant standing at a crossroads. They got back to work.

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Training and learning took up the majority of her time lately. She was exhausted, but not unhappy. Most days she stayed at Tsunade’s for long hours, only returning to frantically complete some chores. Today, Sakura slapped her palm to her forehead when she remembered that she had promised to help Mikoto fold dumplings. She all but flew out the door, shouting, “See you tomorrow!” before heading home. She rushed into the kitchen and greeted her mother-in-law. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help with lunch-” she started, but Mikoto held up a hand to stop her. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Tsunade is a formidable woman, history or not. There’s no reason for a young girl to be cooped up forever.” Her daughter in law always put on a brave face, but she could tell there was something missing. 

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you for understanding. Still, I’ll try to be home a bit more.” She didn’t remember when she started calling this house her home, but she did have a certain obligation to maintain it. She would be so upset if Mikoto suddenly started abandoning her duties! Who would pick them up? Certainly not Fugaku.  

Mikoto shook her head, smiling, “I’ve become content with being at home with my husband and children. But until that day comes for you, just lean on me. Go rest, I’ve got it.” Even as she spoke, she kept deftly folding dumpling skins like it was second nature. 

“A-are you sure?” She had realized she was treated like a strange, permanent guest in the Uchiha household. In her childhood home, she was anything but a guest. “I’m sure. Sasuke’s home, by the way.” Sakura nodded and ventured off to find him, starting with the bedroom. It felt like ages since she’d last seen him. 

“Where have you been?” 

“Excuse me?” His tone was accusatory, but hers was incredulous. “I thought you supported me going? Don’t tell me you changed your mind.” His hot and cold personality was jarring.

“Didn’t think you’d be gone so often,” he grumbled. Those precious tutoring sessions together had been cut short by her lessons with Tsunade, but there was nothing he could do besides walk her there and back. He had half a mind to offer her another trip to the market just to get her to do something with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to impede on her schedule for such selfish reasons. So he sulked, even if he didn’t quite understand why he was so upset.  

He had just finished getting dressed, perhaps taking a bit of extra time smoothing down his hair and clothes in an attempt to get her to look at him. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where? What makes you think I want to follow you anywhere?” If he felt like being a jerk, she would stay home and fold dumplings, thank you very much!

He sighed, like the answer was obvious. “We’re going to Itachi’s. Apparently Izumi’s been feeling off lately. They requested your presence.”  

She perked up slightly but then remembered she was supposed to be mad. As maddening as her husband was, their fights were usually small and quickly diffused. “Fine, I’ll go. But are you sure it’s alright for me to leave the house instead of waiting on you hand and foot?” 

“Annoying,” he muttered, leaving the room but not before he made sure his wife was following him.  

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Knock, knock, knock. Tsunade pursed her lips, who would be calling on her at this time of night? Everyone should be sitting down for dinner. She set down her cup of tea to answer the door.

To her pleasant surprise, Sakura stood at her doorstep looking breathless and bright-eyed. “I thought I sent you home hours ago?” Tsunade raised a brow at the girl. 

“You did. But I have news! And because of that news I can’t stop for today. There’s more to do.” The words tumbled out of her mouth and if she didn’t slow down, she might just swallow her own tongue. 

“More? But-”

“Izumi is pregnant!” Sakura blurted. A grin overtook her features, “Isn’t that exciting?” She pushed her way into Tsunade’s house for the second time that day. They had work to do! Sakura had so much to learn! Babies were so complicated. 

The older woman sighed. Uchiha or not, it would be useful for Sakura to learn about midwifery and the like. Really, she couldn’t say no to her favorite student. She closed the door and rolled up her sleeves again. 

.

“She started out weak, you said?” Tsunade was mulling over which round of roots and herbs to send with Sakura first. Izumi’s pregnancy was still new, but was already proving difficult and draining. Even a placebo would help reduce the expecting mother’s nerves.  

“Mm, I had a suspicion that she has some kind of illness, and the pregnancy is just making things more difficult for her. I think she can carry to term, but she’ll need lots of rest. I want to do whatever I can to make this easier on her.” 

Smart girl, she praised internally. She finally picked out the jars she was looking for, “Here. Crush that bottom one up and mix it with her tea, the other is an ointment to rub on her ankles when they swell. She should be resting in bed, but there might still be pain. And tell everyone to stop hovering, they’re so pesky.” 

Sakura practically saluted her teacher, “You’ve got it, Tsunade-sama! I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

“Oh, I know you will,” she laughed affectionately. Her little apprentice was really something. 

.

Between caring for Izumi and learning from Tsunade, Sakura barely had a moment to rest. While Sasuke initially made a few more snippy comments about not being home, he couldn’t help but feel the pride welling up inside of him. Other women had started seeking her advice and she earned a reputation as Tsunade’s apprentice who would one day surpass her. He felt smug thinking about how good of a mother Sakura would become, but then he reprimanded himself. He really needed to stop thinking like that. 

When a contraction ripped through Izumi’s body, she immediately gasped, “Get Sakura.”

Sasuke all but sprinted to Tsunade’s house, but somehow, by the time they got back, half the clan had gotten wind of the labor. They had to shoulder their way into the house just to get a glimpse of the expecting mother. 

“I thought you said you brought the best,” some grumpy old auntie eyed Sakura skeptically. 

Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her, “Sakura is the best. Now everybody out, let her work.” No one dared question the authoritative tone in his voice. Sakura brushed past him after squeezing his arm in thanks.

Sakura thought she could be calm, but all sorts of emotions bubbled up inside of her when she knelt next to Izumi’s tense body. Her face twisted in pain and shone with sweat when she panted desperately, “I can’t lose this baby.” The implication was clear: or else she would prove useless as the one to produce the next heir.

And it broke Sakura’s heart. As a mother, she would naturally be worried about her child, but this was unacceptable. 

“Everything is going to be fine,” she reassured her, even as her voice shook and she could barely believe her own words. “Now if someone could please get me some water.” Itachi practically tripped over his own feet fetching the water. She had never seen the man so on edge. 

Sakura couldn’t help but let out her own sob when the baby’s first cry pierced the air and Izumi slumped back in relief. 

.

After a tense eight months, Itachi and Izumi’s son is born, small but healthy. The clan breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was finally time to celebrate. 

Once a few weeks passed, it is agreed that the new little family should visit Izumi’s parents for a while. After only exchanging letters for the past three years, it is only right that they got to see their new grandchild for a while. They were only distantly related to the Uchiha and had established residence in a different village. The journey would take a number of days and Mikoto and Fugaku insisted on going along.

Which meant the main house was left to only Sasuke and Sakura for at least a month. 

.

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A/N: HAHA THERE’S ONLY ONE HOUSE!! AND THEY ALREADY SHARE A BED!! Pervsuke incoming also hopefully it goes without saying that Time is Passing so ss are getting a teensy bit older. I kind of liked how this chapter flipped it so that sakura is the one always gone but even if he’s grumpy at first he’s like damn..she rlly did that LOL you like her don’t u ssk /.\

[supercalvin]

Hi! Idk if you're still taking prompts but if you are then can you do one where Arthur and Merlin hug after being separated during like a battle or something? And there's like an outsider POV from like idk one of the knights? I think it would be cute and your writing is amazing!!!! 💕 ❤️ 💕

Oops. A little long…oh well. It’s because I live for Outsider POV.

Prompts + Ficlets

***

When Lucan arrived in Camelot for the knight trials, he half imagined he would be asked to present his family crest or be turned away. He had heard rumors that Camelot accepted commoners and had set out despite all the boys back home telling him it was a fool’s errand.  ‘Even if King Arthur did accept commoners,’ they said, ‘You’re not even good with a sword.’ But when Lucan arrived at the citadel gates, he was directed to a large training field.

“Sir Lancelot will train you with the rest of the commoners. Your trial will happen tomorrow. Good luck.”

Lucan was intimidated to say the least. Once he realized Sir Lancelot was of common birth, he relaxed a little, but then he saw him fight and he was immediately nervous again.

“You’ll do fine, Lucan.” Lancelot said with an encouraging smile. “Arthur is looking for skill, but there’s more to being a knight than just fighting.”

When Lancelot said these words, Lucan had thought he meant the King of Camelot in a general sense. He figured the First Knight would be conducting the trials. He hadn’t realized Lancelot meant…

The King of Camelot looked different than he imagined. He was relaxed as he stepped onto the field. He was young, blond hair bright in the sunlight as he shed his cape and drew his sword.

“You will have five attempts to disarm me,” The King said without preamble, “You may choose any weapon. You may use any tricks at your disposal. Magic aside, of course. If you wanted to talk with my Court Sorcerer, I’m afraid that’s a different kind of trial, lads.”

A long-haired knight snickered, “Did Merlin run off again?”

The King rolled his eyes, “He left to consult with the Druids. Not that he felt the need to inform his King of this before this morning.”

Then he turned back to the young boys in front of him, all matters of court forgotten. He raised his sword and gestured to the first boy to step up.

To this day Lucan wasn’t sure why the King accepted him. Lucan’s first weapon of choice had been a sword, which the King almost immediately knocked from his hands. The boys back home hadn’t been lying when they said he wasn’t good with a sword. Instead of picking it up again, Lucan, in his desperation, choose another weapon. Five times the King disarmed him and five times Lucan switched weapons. Lucan was certain he would have to go home with his tail between his legs. Instead, after the King had knocked the quarterstaff from Lucan’s hand, the King had held out his hand and said, “Good. Get some water and join the rest.”

Lucan had been knighted a year later. There was an uphill battle in understanding all the intricacies of court, but luckily he wasn’t the only commoner-turned-knight.

One of the most interesting characters Lucan encountered was the Court Sorcerer. On his first day, he had imagined Court Sorcerer to be an elderly man who had been through the purge and reemerged to spread his wisdom. What he hadn’t imagined was Merlin.

Apparently Merlin had been the King’s servant before he had been promoted to Court Sorcerer.  If Lucan thought King Arthur’s stance on knighting commoners was an anomaly, than Merlin’s presence disproved that. He was very obviously a commoner. He refused to wear any noble attire and often spoke to everyone as his equal. Lucan admired him, but he winced every time he spoke freely to the King. Surely there was a limit? The King had yelled at Merlin on more than one occasion, but it never seemed to bother Merlin much. Lucan figured it must be left over from when he was Arthur’s servant.

Less than a year after Lucan’s knighthood, King Odin invaded Camelot’s southern border. Lucan had never been to war, but he learned quickly. King Arthur tried to make peace with Odin, but so far Odin hadn’t stopped encroaching on Camelot’s southern villages. The battles weren’t far from where Lucan had grown up, and every time he defended a village, seeing the mothers and children looking to him to protect them, he felt that he had chosen the right path.

Although Lucan had lived in Camelot for over a year, he still had never seen much of the Court Sorcerer’s magic. Part of Lucan wondered if that was on purpose or if he was still unused to practicing in public. Either way, the battles against Odin changed that. To say that Lucan was in awe of Merlin’s power would be an understatement. This man who causally teased Camelot’s knights, who helped Lucan when he sprained his ankle last spring, and was one of the least intimidating men Lucan had ever met, was also one of the most powerful men Lucan on the battlefield.  He controlled the wind and lightening with a wave of his hand. One spell caused a rockslide that blocked half of Odin’s army before the battle had even begun. Truly, it should not have been a surprise that Odin’s next target wasn’t a village at all.

Lucan had been on the only knights to see it happen.

“Get back!” Merlin shouted, his magic rippling out of him like a tidal wave of power, pushing back Camelot’s knights as they tried to stop Odin’s men from surrounding Merlin.

Lucan’s quarterstaff connected with a head and he reached out for Merlin, but it was too late. Another knight had pressed the Court Sorcerer to the ground, his arms entangled in cold iron chains, effectively blocking his magic. The next thing Lucan knew, there was a burst of pain at the back of his skull and nothing. Then he woke in Gaius’ tent.

After the wound on his head had been bandaged, he had been sent to the King’s tent to report what he had seen. The King was very quiet throughout Lucan’s report, his eyes never leaving the battlefield map in front of him. When Lucan finished the King suddenly stood and turned away.

“Sire,” Sir Leon stepped forward, about to rest a hand on the King’s shoulder, but the King raised his hand, stopping his First Knight.

“You are dismissed, Lucan.”

Lucan was surprised to hear that the King’s voice was strangled, but when he turned around, his face was perfectly blank. Lucan bowed and stepped out of the tent.

A month passed. Although Camelot could hold her own, it was obvious that Merlin had been a great advantage. It was also obvious that the King was affected by this loss, the circles under his eyes growing darker and his words becoming shorter with each day. Lucan had known that the King and Merlin were close, but he hadn’t realized that the King would be so affected by the loss of his former servant.

One night, Lucan was called into the King’s tent. He barely had bowed when the King asked, “You know these foothills well?”

Lucan was surprised, but answered quickly, “Yes, sire. I grew up not far from here.”

“Good. I need you with us.”

“Sire?”

“Gwaine, Lancelot, and I are we need a guide in these hills, if you are willing.”

“You’re getting Merlin back,” Lucan said, before he realized he’d spoke out loud.

The King nodded, “Are you willing?”

Lucan nodded, “Of course, sire.”  

When the moon was fully in the sky, the four knights set out. Lucan directed them as best he could. There was an old cave system in the mountains where he figured Odin had created a make-shift prison for Merlin. The caves were dark and damp, but that only made it easier to slip inside and attack when Odin’s men were unprepared. There were about a dozen men against the four of them, but they had the element of surprise. Soon enough, they were the only ones standing.

The King sheathed his sword and picked up a torch. While the front of the cave had been cluttered with a few fires and supplies, the back of the cave was dark and sparse. At the very end of the cave, there was a wall of iron bars, effectively creating a cell. Merlin was still wrapped in the cold iron chains Lucan had seen that day over a month ago, which made Lucan’s stomach twist to think Merlin had been in that position for over a month. As they moved closer, Merlin flinched at the torch light, his eyes blinking rapidly at the light. His clothes were covered in grim, blood stained his tunic, and his face looked gaunt. He wasn’t wearing a gag but there were cuts on his cheek that suggested this hadn’t always the case.

The King unlocked the cell with keys he had taken from one of the guards and wrenched open the door, practically falling into the cell in his haste. His hand immediately went to the chains, looking for a lock.

“You can’t,” Merlin’s voice was rough. From disuse or screaming, it was hard to tell. Lucan wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “They’ve been enchanted.”

Arthur growled, slamming his fist against the cave wall. After a moment, the King huffed, leaving the chains where they were. He pulled a water skin from his belt and held it while Merlin drank.

After Merlin had drunk his fill, the King’s hand came to rest on Merlin’s face, his thumb running over the gash where a gag had obviously been. “I swear I will run him through myself.”

Merlin angled his body as best he could with the chains around him, so that his head was near the King’s. “No. You need to make a treaty with him.”

“He did this to you,” The King’s voice was full of venom. “I can’t forgive that.”

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was soft, almost not there. “It’s alright. I’m alright.”

Lucan was surprised to see the King’s body shudder, his head bent down and his hand clutching Merlin’s tunic. “I thought…”

Merlin hushed him, “You can’t rid of me that easily.”

Before Lucan realized what was happening, the King had cupped Merlin’s face and kissed him. It wasn’t a kiss of relief, one with little thought or care. It was a steady kiss, one that had obviously been done many times before. The King pulled away, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s. Their voices were quiet, but the cave walls made their voices echo. Lucan clearly heard the King’s softly spoken declaration of love.

To say that Lucan was surprised by the display of affection would be an understatement. He had known the King and Merlin had been friends for over a decade. He had known they were close. But he hadn’t realized… except it did make sense. Merlin was never far from the King’s side. They often were together, at court, at dinner, at almost every occasion. It would also explain Merlin’s easiness with the King.

Lancelot stepped forward, “Sire, we need to leave before Odin realizes what we’ve done.”

The King nodded, “Get the horses. Merlin is riding with me.”

They rode back to Camelot’s camp quickly, but the sun was already rising by the time they made it to Gaius’ tent. With careful hands, Arthur helped Merlin down from Llamrei’s saddle, holding him in his arms and refusing Lancelot’s help.

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was obviously tired but there was a lilt of laughter to it.

“Shut up, Merlin.” The King grumbled, “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.  You are obviously not capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Says the man who needed a servant to dress him for ten years,” Merlin teased.

Suddenly a lot of things about Merlin and the King’s conversations made sense to Lucan.

***

Prompts + Ficlets

[flyingkiki]

Flavor: Vanilla

Quarantine gives me a lot of time to write. Played around with this sexy little idea because I cannot get enough of this adorable pair.

I’ll be working on the requests and prompts you sent me. I’m still accepting requests. Has to be Tim/Rae though, so we can populate this fandom more. Please expect more in the coming days! 

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this! 

Some smutness up ahead.

~~~

“Dude that looks nasty.”

Tim hissed as he tried taking off his uniform. He sent a Jason the best withering glare he could muster through the haze of pain. Killer Croc had gotten him good in the fight earlier, taking a large swipe along the left hip. He gingerly tried to peel his uniform away from the wound. He stumbled towards the med bay where Alfred was already waiting to help treat his wounds.

Dropping cowl, gloves, and utility belt on the table, Tim walked towards the med table. He tried his best to hoist himself on the table without aggravating the wounds too much. What little movement he did though still had blood oozing out of the claw marks. Tim groaned.

“Those are quite a few, Master Tim.” Alfred inspected the wounds worriedly before pulling all medical supplies closer.

Tim groaned as Alfred tried to tug some of his uniform out of the way. He didn’t bother pulling off the rest of his top, Tim didn’t see the need to. “Yeah. That fight was nasty.”

“You have such bad shape, Drake.” Damian commented from the entrance of the med bay. He crossed his arms and gave his older brother an annoyed look.

Tim craned his neck to glare at the little monster of a 10 year-old. “Says the kid that got throw into the sewer.”

“You should go take a shower, Master Damian,” commented Alfred while prepping some of the gauzes.

“Yeah, buddy.” Jason sauntered into the med bay, patting Damian on the head as he passed him. “You stink.”

Damian growled. “Shut up, Todd.”

Tim sighed and leaned back on the table with his elbows to give Alfred better access to the wound. He looked between Jason and Damian, and gave them both a withering glare. “Don’t you to two have anything better to do than stand around here? Like maybe help Bruce with the report?”

“Nah, I hate filing reports,” Jason shrugged and noisily plunked down in one of the steel med chairs. “You’re more entertaining.”

“I like seeing you in pain.” Damian replied, not bothering to move from the entrance of the med bay.

Tim winced as Alfred began cleaning out the wound. “Geez, I feel loved.”

Alfred struggled with cleaning out the claw mark that extended towards Tim’s back. He tried to push the other half of Tim’s uniform away. “Master Tim, perhaps it’s best you remove your uniform completely. I can’t clean this out properly.”

“Uh, fine.” Tim winced and sat up, struggling to get the other half of his uniform off. Unceremoniously dropping it on the floor next to the med table, he gave Alfred an apologetic look. “I’ll pick it up later.”

“Hm,” Alfred did not seem very impressed. Studying his charge’s abdomen one more time, the old man paused, hummed, and continued with his work.

Jason absently fiddled with his phone. Ignoring Tim’s wince, he looked at the younger man curiously. “You up for some pizza and beer? I know this one place that makes a mean thin crust pizza and that fancy black garlic,”

Damian crossed his arms. “Alfred makes better pizza. Don’t go out and eat trash.”

Briefly looking at the young boy, Alfred his eyes softened slightly and he tilted his head just a little bit. “Thank you, Master Damian,”

Tim inhaled sharply when Alfred stitched one of the claw marks closed. Wincing through the pain, he tried to look at Jason. “Nah, man. I don’t think painkillers and beer is such a good idea tonight. I’m heading home after this,”

“Pfft. Pain meds never stopped me,” Jason swung his feet up on one of the extra med tables, much to Alfred’s annoyance. “Nothing happened to me, see?”

“Hah!” Tim laughed through a rather painful stitch. “Beg to differ.”

“Master Jason, could you be so kind and get one of the bigger gauzes in that medical cabinet next to you?” Alfred did not even bother looking up from tending to Tim’s wound.

“Sure,” Jason stood up and rummaged through the cabinet. Pulling out a couple of gauzes, he walked up to Tim and Alfred and placed them on the medical tray. Looking over Alfred’s shoulder he looked at the wounds and whistled. “That’s gonna scar,” Jason straightened and placed his hands behind his back as he continued to talk to Tim. “Imma give you my scarring cream. It works wonders, like I can walk around shirtless at the beach without having to worry about a shitton of scars. It doesn’t work on all of them, but, hey, the ladies always like some battle scars, so that’s okay. You just got to make sure you rub it in properly into the scar, and –”

Jason paused and blinked at his new discovery. A wide grin grew on his face and he switched his gaze between Tim’s pained face and his pelvis. “You kinky little shit.”

“Your mouth Master Jason!”

“What the?” Blue eyes flew open and Tim gave Jason an incredulous look. “What?”

Jason looked like the cat that ate all the cream and walked around the med table, much to Tim’s complete annoyance. Alfred being above all the petty teasing that would unfold in a few minutes, ignored the two brothers and continued with his work. Jason stopped on the other side of the med table and cast Tim a sly grin.

“Never thought you had a kinky bone in you,” crossing his arms, Jason grinned at Tim’s bewildered expression. He bounced on his heels lightly and cocked his head teasingly. “Always assumed you’d be a vanilla sex kind of guy, but this, you make me proud, baby bird.”

Tim looked beyond bewildered and tried to glare at Jason through the haze of pain. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jason smirked and easily pointed down at Tim’s exposed hip bone on his uninjured side.

Tim frowned and looked down at what Jason was pointing at. His eyes widened and he immediately turned bright red. “Err,”

Jason tutted softly and gave Tim an amused look. “I didn’t know you were sleeping with someone – or seeing somebody for that matter.”

Still incredibly fluster, Tim leaned heavily on his arms and tried he best not to pitch forward and punch the shit eating grin off Jason’s face. He winced when Alfred silently continued patching him up. How long did this take?! “That’s none of your business, Jason.”

Jason looked delighted. “So there is someone!” He clapped his hands in glee once and bounced on his heels, his white tuft of hair falling into his eyes. “Who?”

“What’s going on?” An unmasked Batman stepped into the med bay and skeptically watched Jason patronize Tim.

Damian crossed his arms and threw an uninterested look at his father. “Jason is interrogating Tim about his sex life.”

Bruce threw his 10-year old son a bewildered look while trying to listen in on what Jason was saying. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation, Bruce was sure he needed a Tylenol to fight off the migraine that was slowly starting to build. Looking down at his son, he basically told him to scram. “Go to bed, Damian.”

“But –”

“Take a shower and go to bed. You reek,”

Damian frowned and turned on his heels, marching out of the med bay. Satisfied that at least his minor son was out of the room for whatever sex talk Jason was shouting to high heavens, Bruce sighed. Sometimes it was hard being a father.

“It’s none of your business, Jason.” Tim frowned, his blush still wild and red on his face.

“I make it my business!”

“No you –” Tim paused as Bruce appeared next to Jason. Jason also stopped teasing but continued to give Tim a wide grin.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked looking at his son.

Tim shrugged. “Yeah. We’re almost done anyway. It’s not too bad after all,”

“Hmm,” Bruce nodded. Surveying Tim’s body for any other injuries, his eyes stopped at Tim’s hip. He felt his jaw tighten just a fraction of an inch and he stared at the little red marks on his son’s pelvis. Bite marks. Jesus Christ, he respected his son’s private life but – Bruce tried not to roll his eyes in exasperation. Ignoring Jason’s snickering, Bruce looked back up into the eyes of a highly embarrassed Tim, and he raised an eyebrow. “Make sure to invite your girlfriend to dinner with us one of these days.”

And with that, Bruce turned and left his two sons. He badly needed a Tylenol. Parenting grown men was hard. He could hear Jason howl with laughter.

“Ha!” Jason grinned, taking extreme pleasure out of the embarrassing situation.

Tim groaned loudly in embarrassment and threw himself back on the table, slightly wincing at the impact. Alfred sent him an amused look before finishing up his work.

~

It was close to midnight once Tim finally, finally, made it back to his apartment. He was still in substantial amount of pain, and embarrassment, once he pulled himself into his apartment. All he wanted was to crawl into bed, down a couple more painkillers, and sleep through tomorrow. Adult or not, it was mortifying to have your parent discover how active your sex life could be.

The hallway lights were on when he stepped into his apartment. He was sure that he had switched off all lights remotely. He was also sure that his security system would have detected an intruder. Surveying the hallway for any signs of an intruder, he visibly relaxed when he spotted a pair of familiar boots neatly stacked against his running shoes. Tim smiled.

Sighing softly, Tim pulled off his shoes and placed them next to the boots. Dropping off his keys in the little bowl in the foyer, he padded silently into his huge living room. Walking quietly towards his huge black sofa, he quirked his lips at the sight of long, pale legs and soft swell of a butt with black lace panties sticking out of a bundle of grey throw blanket. Smiling softly at the familiar sight, his gaze lingered at the tempting ass that peeked out of the blanket.

Walking around the sofa, Tim faintly wondered if he should wake her. Thinking it would be best to wake her so she could move into the bedroom with him (since he was in no capacity to pick her up, lest potentially bust his stitches), Tim slowly crouched down and gently touched the bundle of blanket where he could see a bunch of hair poking out.

“Hey,” Tim whispered softly, smiling when the blankets stirred.

Sleepy purple eyes popped out of the blankets. They blinked sleepily at him before a hand underneath the blankets pulled the blanket away and her face came into view. “Hey,”

Tim reached out and pushed some errand purple hair away from her face. “I didn’t know you’d be coming over tonight,”

Her lips quirked a fraction of an inch and she sat up, allowing the blanket to pool around her bare legs. She watched him crouched by the sofa and she eyed him carefully. “Dick mentioned Killer Croc’s attack tonight and I heard what happened.” Her gaze dropped to his torso. She placed her hand on his arm propped on the sofa and gently tugged him onto the sofa. “I slipped out of the tower as soon as I could.”

Tim grunted softly and sat down next to her, wincing slightly at the movement. Smiling at her, he dropped his hand on her bare thigh and squeezed. “Thanks, Rae.” He eyed her curiously.

Raven pushed her purple hair out of her eyes and stared at him. “Do you want something to eat?”

Tim tilted his head and sent her an amused look. “You’re gonna cook?”

“Hmm,” Raven stood up and smirked when Tim eyed her bare legs appreciatively. She nudged his hand away with her knee when it creeped up her leg and under the oversized shirt she was wearing. “I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Tim chuckled and watched her disappear into his kitchen. He heard her pull out their mugs from cupboards and other items she’d need for making coffee and tea. “You didn’t have to sneak out tonight, Rae,” he called into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I know. But I know you,” there was a soft clatter in the kitchen followed by the familiar aroma of coffee. “You’re going to pull your stitches and I’d rather you don’t bleed all over the bed. We just changed the sheets.”

Tim watched Raven reappear into his living with two steaming mugs. A small, playful smile was dancing on her lips as she handed him his coffee and she carefully sat down next to him. “I am touched over your concern of our bedsheets,” he teased and squeezed her thigh.

Raven hid her smile behind her mug and took a small sip. Carefully draping one of her legs over his left leg, she settled comfortably into the couch. Tim’s hand absently stroked her leg and they settled back comfortably.

Tim ran over the evening’s events to her, detailing parts of the fight and Killer Croc’s motive that evening. Raven did not look pleased for the most part of Tim’s storytelling.

“That was a reckless move,” Raven frowned.

Tim shrugged. “He would have gotten away with the kryptonite,”

“Still reckless.” She rolled her eyes when Tim chuckled. Pulling her leg away from his lap, she grabbed Tim’s empty coffee mug and placed their mugs on the coffee table in front of them.  Sitting up next to him, she raised an eyebrow. “Take your shirt off.”

Tim grinned at her and his left hand slid up her bare thigh teasingly. “If you want me naked all you have to do is ask.”

Her lips twitched at his playfulness. “I want to save our bedsheets. Those are my favorite,”

Tim chuckled and slowly tried to remove his white t-shirt. Wincing when he raised his arms, Raven leaned forward and helped him remove the shirt. Sighing, he leaned back to get more comfortable on the sofa with his both of his arms draped over the back of the couch and watched Raven inspect his upper body carefully. His eyes softened. “You don’t have to heal me you know,”

Raven’s expression softened and she offered him a smile. “I want to.” Gently placing her hand on his chest, she leaned forward and offered him a soft kiss on the lips.

Pulling back, Raven started pulling the bloody bandages away from Tim’s body. She paid rapt attention for any discomfort and her frown deepened when she saw the four claw marks that ran across his side. She recognized Alfred’s handiwork easily with the neat stitching but she frowned at how red and bloody the wound remained. She gently touched the side of the wound making Tim inhale sharply and his stomach contract. A little blood slowly oozed out of the stitched wound.

“Sorry,” Raven whispered, she cast an apologetic look at Tim. She sat up straighter and concentrated on the wound. Her hands began to softly flash white and they hovered over the wound as she slowly began the process of healing Tim.

Over the months they had been together, Tim discovered that he enjoyed the feeling of Raven’s powers slipping into and over his body. Despite how people would describe her as cold and deadly, her powers were warm and gentle when they could be. He quickly learned how giving and warm Raven could be, a side which only a very few knew about.

Tim felt the pain of his wound slowly ebb away and his body warmed as Raven’s healing process slowly finished. He felt the familiar tingle of skin restoring. He stared at Raven as she kept an intent eye on his wound. When the soft glow of her hands slowly faded away, he watched her sigh softly and gently ran her left hand along his now injury-free side. His muscles contracted at the warm touch and his body felt infinitely better than it had moments ago.

“There,” whispered Raven. She blinked, feeling a bit woozy from using her healing powers. She cast Tim a small satisfied smile. “Not even a scar.” Her fingers danced over his now healed side and watched the muscle contract under her touch.

Tim grinned and pulled her closer, tucking her into his side. His left hand slid down her back and rested on the dip of her hips. “I have the best and most beautiful doctor to heal me.” Tim kissed the crown of her head.

Raven chuckled into his neck. “You don’t think Alfred will be jealous?” She absently allowed her fingers to dance across his chest, tracing faint scars and moving along defined muscle.

“Al can tend wounds just fine. But he’s not as beautiful as you,” Tim grinned at Raven, who rolled her eyes in response. He absently stroked her hip and made himself more comfortable on the sofa just holding her.

Tucking her head under Tim’s chin, she relaxed hearing his steady breathing and heartbeat. Her fingers absently danced across his chest, tracing scars, and muscle lines and watching as his muscle contracted under her fingertips. Her hand stopped however along Tim’s abs (one of her favorite body parts on him, really), when she caught sight of something embarrassingly familiar.

“Is that?” Raven pushed herself into an upright position and stared Tim’s pelvis, exposed by his low hanging sweatpants.

“Oh,” Tim laughed sheepishly and watched as Raven stared at the love bite on the lower right side of his abdomen, just where his sharp v-line began. Her handiwork from the other night. “I forgot that was there.”

Raven blinked. “And everyone saw this?” To her horror Tim nodded.

“Bruce said to bring my girlfriend over for dinner,”

“Bruce saw?” Raven sighed loudly and dropped her head on Tim’s chest. She listened to Tim’s heartbeat, feeling totally mortified. She felt Tim soothingly rub her back.

“So, would you?”

She lifted her head and gave him a confused look. “Would I what?”

“Come over to the manor for dinner?”

They’ve been together for close to a year already but kept their relationship mostly to themselves. Tim respected that Raven was a very private person. Mainly because they wanted to stay out of the prying eyes of the media. And he knew she worried over Bruce’s reaction over them being in a relationship. Bruce was after all part of the Justice League that once shunned Raven for her demon heritage, that was a wound that Tim knew Raven still carried out around with her. He watched as a look of worry crossed her face.

“They’ll love you.”

Tim gave her an assuring smile and squeezed her hip. He felt his insides warm when she offered him a small smile. He knew that he was lucky to catch these quiet moments with Raven.

“Okay,” she breathed softly and smiled when Tim’s smile widened. Leaning forward, she offered him a long kiss and leaned into him. Pulling away, she tapped his chest with her fingertips and eyed him seriously. “But only after a couple of weeks. I don’t want Batman’s first impression of me being the secret girlfriend that gave his son a hickey next to his penis. My history with him isn’t all too great to begin with.”

Tim laughed and tucked her into his side. His hand slid down her back and sneakily slipped over her lace clad ass. Tim was always very touchy and he grinned when Raven wiggled her ass a little. Absently playing with the edge her underwear, he cleared this throat. “Well, fat chance,” he began. “Jason was there and I doubt he’ll ever let us live this down.”

“Ugh,” Raven dropped her head against his chest.

Tim chuckled. “Jason is an asshole sometimes.”

“All of the time,” Raven mumbled into his chest.

Tim squeezed her hip and nudged her gently. “He said he was surprised that I was into kinky stuff,”

“Oh?” Raven looked up at him and threw him a bewildered look.

Tim grinned playfully when he realized he caught her attention. Cupping her ass, he gave her butt cheek a gentle squeeze. “He said he thought I was only into vanilla sex.”

Raven propped herself up on his chest and raised an eyebrow at a highly amused Tim. “Vanilla sex?”

Tim gave her a cheeky grin and gave her butt another hearty squeeze. “Right?”

Raven pressed her body against his and kissed the underside of his chin. She tutted and sent him a playful grin before casting her eyes down his body and allowing her hand to trail down his chest and abs. Her fingertips ghosted over the dips of his abs and she watched in satisfaction as his muscles contracted. Sliding her palm further down she, smiled when Tim shifted and her hand lay dangerously low on his lower abdomen and she teasingly slid her fingers along the love bite by the sharp v-cut of his hips. “Jason has no idea what he’s talking about,” hummed Raven lowly and smirked when Tim inhaled sharply.

Raven’s fingers teasingly slipped over his low hung sweatpants and she watched in satisfaction at the growing bulge in front of her. She felt him shift and inhale deeply. Raven hummed softly when Tim pulled her closer, relishing the warm press of her body against his.

Nipping his chin playfully, Raven sat up and pressed her hands on his chest. With one fluid motion, she straddled him and rolled her hips into his. Sighing softly at the movement, Tim gripped her the swell of her hips tightly, knowing she’d enjoy the pressure.

Raven rolled her hips and felt his hard cock press against her core. She felt her body burn with desire as she relished the warm contact of their bodies. She felt the Tim’s strong emotions possessively lap against her, she practically purred as her own emotions tangled with his. Gripping his broad shoulders for support, she pitched forward and kissed Tim.

Long, callused fingers gripped her hips roughly, pushing her hips sharply into his. Tim groaned at the contact and allowed one of his hands to slip under her shirt and travel up her bare back. He caught her lips in a heady, desperate kiss. Each kiss was dragging out something primal within them and his fingers dug into her hips, earning him a satisfying roll of her hips and a soft moan.

Raven pulled back slightly, trying to desperately catch her breath. Shifting under her, Tim sat up and made swift work to rid her of her t-shirt. Relishing the feel of skin to skin contact, he sighed softy and kissed her neck. He felt his cock twitch painfully as Raven continued her dangerous rhythm against him. He felt her fingers dig into his shoulders as his hand teasingly ghosted over her left breast before sliding behind her head and tangling into her purple hair. Tugging her hair gently, he angled her head and stole a searing kiss, tongue sliding over hers, and drinking a throaty moan greedily.

“Please,”

Only Raven could ignite such a delicious, delirious fire within him. Groaning softly, he easily picked her up and laid her onto their oversized couch. One of the main reasons why they bought this ridiculously big couch was for couch sex, if they were being honest. Easily tugging off his sweatpants and underwear and her lacy panties, he pressed himself on top of her and hiked her left leg around his hip.

“Fuck,” Tim breathed into her neck at the sensation of her wet, hot heat brush against his cock. Groping her breast, he kissed her neck softly before nibbling on the tender flesh. Pulling away, he kissed her soundly on the lips and nipped her lower lip earning a soft groan and a tantalizing roll of her hips.

“Tim,”

Humming softly, Tim lowered his head and captured one of Raven’s nipples in between his lips. Suckling and nibbling at the perk peak, Tim felt his cock throb painfully at the intoxicating keening noises Raven was making. He palmed her other breast and rolled the other nipple in between his finger.

“I need you,”

It was like a mad scramble of limbs, as Raven became desperate for release. Releasing her nipple, Tim quickly came to his knees in between her legs and positioned his cock at her entrance. Holding her writhing hips and greedily drinking in her disheveled hair and hooded eyes, Tim felt a mad rush of emotions for the intoxicating woman below him. Squeezing her hip, he quickly entered her hot heat in one fluid motion and pressed his whole body over her. Filling her to the hilt, both of them groaned loudly.

“Yes!”

Their movements were loud, wet, and frantic. With what limited space they had left on the couch, Raven wrapped both of her legs around Tim’s hips and frantically met each of his thrusts with her hips, moaning at the delicious friction. She felt full and hot, and so dangerously close of toppling over the edge.

Raven’s fingers dug into hard biceps as Tim continued to fill her to the hilt, his movements more frantic and his groans hot against her ear. Hiking up her right leg just a little higher, Raven clenched around his cock and she let out a throaty moan as he continued to hit just the right spot. She arched her back and pressed herself into his hard body.

“Raven. Fuck,”

“Tim – Oh!” Raven closed her eyes, dangerously close to her own orgasm.

Tim whispered her name like a prayer and pistoned into her, their hips meeting in a frantic haze. The wet sound of sex and moans filled the living room. Groaning loudly, he felt stars explode behind his eyes and felt his release explode just as Raven clenched around him and moaned his name. Collapsing on top of her, they frantically they rode out their orgasms. Tim nibbled her neck, making her moan and clench around his cock.

After a few more strokes, they collapsed against each other in a sweaty tangle of limbs. Raven felt herself slowly come down from the delirious high, and she wrapped her sweaty arms around Tim’s shoulders. Relishing the close contact, she softly squeezed him.

“I love you,” She whispered into his sweaty neck.

Breathing unsteadily against her neck, Tim lifted his head and gave her a languid smile. “I love you too,” he whispered. Leaning down, he tenderly kissed her.

Raven groaned softly as Tim pulled out of her, the sensation sending delicious shivers down her spine. She sighed tiredly when he adjusted their position on the sofa and rolled her on top of him. Gathering her in his arms, Tim kissed her softly once more and pulled her closer. Raven sighed contently as he gently ran his hands up and down her spine. Tim loved to cuddle.

“That was amazing,” he whispered hoarsely into her hair.

Raven chuckled sleepily and snuggled into his embrace further. “So insatiable,”

Tim laughed and squeezed her. “Jason knows shit.”

[ballerinaroy]

together or not at all

An unexpected confession makes them all change course.

Harry/Ron/Hermione

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when it had started, but lately things have felt a bit strained between the three of them. Ron had put it down to the stress of wedding planning and moving out of the flat the three of them had shared ever since Hermione had left Hogwarts three years ago. And it hadn’t been their normal fighting, rather, there’d been no fighting at all. Just this uncomfortable feeling whenever the three of them alone, one that Ron had never known and therefore hadn’t known how to address.

“Don’t worry about if you leave something behind,” Harry said as Ron walked through for a final time, looking for whatever they’d missed. “You can always come back.”

“Yeah, but don’t want to feel like we’re using the flat as a holding space,” Ron said, glad that Harry had been so understanding.

In fact he’d been great about it all. Helped them look for a new place, given them more than half of the furniture. They’d largely financed the wedding themselves, not wanting to impose on the families who’d already given them so much. Not having to worry about where they were going to eat their next meal had been more helpful than Harry could have known.

“It’s no problem,” Harry said, “You’re welcome to visit anytime you want.”

And there it was, that inkling that something was off.

“You’re the only one of the three of us that can cook anyway, believe me, you won’t even know to miss us,” Ron said, picking up the hallway mirror that Hermione had sent him to retrieve. Harry grinned, but there was something about it that didn’t meet his eye. “Well, we shouldn’t be bothering you again, not until we get back anyway.”

Harry nodded. “You heading over to the Burrow?”

“Just as soon as I get this hung,” Ron said, making sure that it was indeed enchanted not to break before stuffing it into Hermione’d bag for safekeeping. “See you there!”

But as he disapparated away Ron couldn’t help but feel like there was still something strange to the way Harry stared after him.

Harry hadn’t shown up until dinner had already started and since then they hadn’t had a moment alone. It was only when Ron bid Hermione goodnight and went up to the attic bedroom that he found Harry, sitting unnaturally straight on his camp bed and waiting for him.

“Hey mate,” Ron said in greeting. He’d thought Harry had been out in the garden with George or perhaps gone to bed early. “I haven’t seen you all night.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked without preamble. His voice was odd and it gave Ron pause.

“About Hermione?” Ron asked managing a grin. “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

And yet there was still something strained to Harry’s expression.

“Are you okay with this?”

It had never occurred to Ron to ask. Harry had always seemed so supportive of them, so happy.

“No.”

The answer stunned Harry as much as it did Ron. They stood there, staring at one another and although he’d been the one to ask, Ron was at an utter loss of what to say and he wished Hermione was there. Only she’d always been pretty callous with Harry’s emotions but she’d at least have something to say, know what to ask.

“Are you in love with Hermione?”

It was the first and only thought that made any sense. He’d always feared their relationship, took the bloody Horcrux and Hermione flinging herself at him for him to finally overcome his insecurity and to have it come back, the tonight of all nights-

“No!” Harry shouted at once. “Of course not.”

“Then, what?” Ron asked confused. “Why don’t you-?”

Harry stared at him, reminding Ron of all the times in school Hermione was not so patiently waiting for them to figure out something that was obvious to her. Ron raised his hands in a full upper body shrug and finally, just above a whisper, Harry finished.

“Not…not just Hermione.”

Harry looked away in shame, hiding his face so Ron couldn’t read it while he tried working out what it meant. Not just Hermione? But how could he? What did he-?

“Are you-?” Ron braved, his brain still several steps behind. He gestured to himself.

It was as if time was in slow motion. Harry raised his head, eyes wet, swallowed heavily and gave the tiniest of nods.

“With me?” Ron finished, still pointing at his chest. “With us? When did you? How? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Again a silence that stretched on for an eternity.

“I only ever wanted you to be happy,” Harry croaked out, “I never realized, until I saw you both here, the boxes all packed and not knowing when I’d see you again….”

Ron reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, urging him on. Usually, Harry resisted their physical touch. Only when they were in danger or drunk did he allow hands to linger, initiate hugs and hand-holding. But now, couched in the dusty attic bedroom where they’d grown up together, Harry didn’t resist. Instead he leaned in, wet cheek brushing Ron’s hand and continued on in a miserable voice.

“I realized that what I wanted was to be a part of that happiness too.”

“Oh Harry,” he whispered, finding his own throat suddenly aching. He pulled Harry against him on instinct, wrapping him up in his arms as Harry began to tremble. “I never knew.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry blubbered, gripping the back of Ron’s shirt fiercely. “If I could…”

But he was too overcome to finish. Instead they gripped onto one another, holding on to one another so tightly that Ron worried that one of them would suffocate. When he opened his eyes Harry was staring at him, a strangely fierce look in his eyes and Ron braced himself to be kissed but instead was faced with the impossible question. “Do you, have you ever-?”

He didn’t know, had never considered. He was Harry, his best mate, his best friend, the person supposed to be standing next to him tomorrow as he pledged his life publicly to Hermione. It had all seemed so simple. But now, as he considered what it would be like after, coming home to a flat without Harry in it, seeing him at work and on weekends…it seemed wrong entirely to be staring a life without him in it.

“I’d never considered it,” Ron said finally, hating the disappointed look in his eye, never mind the fact that this had been a new realization too.

Harry relaxed his grip but Ron refused to let him go so they stayed tangled. Somewhere below there was the sound of a door opening and footsteps traveling down the stairs before a second door opened and shut.

“Why’d you wait so long?” Ron whispered. It wasn’t a fair question he knew. But they were running out of time, and to confess now…

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Harry whispered, “It’d always been the three of us. I was happy enough, living our lives concurrent. I didn’t realize I wanted more until I didn’t even have that.”

Guilt rushed through him. Harry had always been so supportive, he’d never questioned their friendship. But the idea that they were leaving him behind too.

“I’m sorry,” Ron whispered.

They were still tangled, faces inches from one another. The tension between them was unbearable and it was hard to say who leaned in first, who initiated for in that moment Ron wanted nothing more than to experience what it was like, to know.

It didn’t feel strange, kissing him. Ron had never considered kissing a bloke, never mind his best friend, but there was no awkwardness, nothing uncomfortable about having another man’s lips against his. In fact, there was something enticing about it, so different than kissing Hermione…Hermione.

All at once he came to his senses and pulled away, eyes wide open, leaving Harry standing there, mid-embrace. It was horrible, watching Harry realize what had happen, mistaking his horror on Ron’s face as a reaction to what he had done rather than the sudden intrusive thought of the fiancé sleeping several floors below.

“Harry, I-“

But the damage had already been done. Before Ron could stammer out an apology, an explanation, a plea for him to stay and for them to work it out, Harry had turned on the spot and vanished with an echoing pop.

Ron spent several minutes staring at the place where Harry had vanished, arms comically outstretched towards him, before coming to his senses. In love? With him? With them? Their lives had always been so tremulous that when the battle had ended Ron had chosen the path of least resistance and followed it. And he was happy…wasn’t he?

He knew he needed Hermione, needed to sort out the dozens of thoughts running through his head. It wasn’t until he was halfway to his sister’s room where she and Hermione were bunking that it occurred to him why exactly they were at the Burrow, banished to different rooms.

The wedding. Tomorrow. Their wedding.

“Hermione?” he whispered, knocking at the door and trying to flatten his clothes. “Hermione, I need to talk to-“

The door opened at once but it wasn’t Hermione but rather his sister who peeked out her head. “Yes?”

“I need to talk to Hermione,” Ron said stubbornly, trying to push past her.

“It’s after midnight,” Ginny pushed back against him. It was being on the side of the door that opened inward, not her strength, that caused the door not to budge. Her voice was merry and teasing, “You’ll have bad luck.”

“Ginny,” Ron said impatiently and when she gave him a stern look he called past her. “Hermione I really need to talk to you. It’s about Harry.”

From the landing he heard the springs of her camp bed creak and suddenly she was there, still blocked by Ginny but at least in view.

“Harry?” she asked, “What’s happened?”

Ron stared back at her helplessly.

“Oh, Ginny he’s already seen me, if the wedding is spoiled then it’s spoiled.”

Ginny sighed, the cheeriness gone from her expression. “Alright then, but if mum asks I was asleep and you snuck out.”

The door opened all the way and Hermione stepped out, already in her nightwear and looked at him worriedly. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Harry he-“

But Ron struggled to find the words to explain what had just happened. Particularly when, not trying to hide it very well, he could see his sister trying to listen in. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her towards the garden.

“He’s run off,” Ron explained, needing to find him, needing for all of them to talk it out.

“Why?” Hermione whispered, wearing a determined expression at once. She didn’t resist even though she was only in slippers and he wasn’t sure she had her wand. “What’s happened?”

“He’s not okay…with us getting married.”

“What?” Hermione snapped, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. “Why?”

And it strangely felt wrong to reveal Harry’s secret but he knew that she couldn’t proceed without all the information. Ron glanced around, but being after midnight, the room was empty.

“He said that he’s in love with me,” Ron whispered. Hermione’s eyes shot open. “With us.”

Hermione looked like she’d been stunned, a completely blank expression on her face. For the first time in memory, she had nothing to say which was disappointing. He’d been counting on her coming up with the right thing, the correct solution. She was completely still aside from an occasional, automatic blink every so often before finally uttering a single, nondescript. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Ron asked, but she didn’t go on.

The silence was too much with his brain racing and he began to babble, confess. “After he told me, we kissed. And I’d never considered kissing him before but it didn’t feel strange, it was actually quite nice. And he told me about how strange it felt to watch us pack up and realize that we won’t be the three of us anymore and it got me thinking about how strange it’ll be not to be the three of us and—and Hermione I love you more than anything….but I can’t get married without Harry there.”

Again the chocking silence. Finally, Hermione was finished with her blinking and she looked at him with all sincerity and said, “Well, of course, we can’t. It’s Harry.”

Ron flooded with relief and squeezed the hand of hers he was still grasping.

“Do you love him?” she asked of him.

“I love you,” he tried but Hermione made an impatient noise.

“I know that. I know we love each other. Do you love him?”

Perhaps it was because it was the easiest answer. Or perhaps it was because he hadn’t once had second thoughts about Hermione until the moment Harry had said no but the answer spilled from him, “Of course I do, it’s Harry.”

“Alright,” Hermione said, squeezing his hand back. “We need to find him then.”

Before he could ask what it meant, ask how she felt, Hermione was now the one pulling him into the garden and away. Ron wasn’t entirely sure what Hermione was about to do but he didn’t argue with her determined march from the house. He was wrong about her not having a wand and just managed to tighten his grip before she disappeared.

“Harry!” Hermione called out the moment they arrived in the flat that the three of them had shared. Ron had been so wrapped up in moving into their new flat that he hadn’t noticed how bare they’d left it. “Harry!”

Hurriedly he followed her towards the shut door of Harry's bedroom. Hermione reached for the handle and jangled it but it remained stubbornly locked.

“Alohorma,” Ron tried as Hermione started banging on the door.

“Harry you open this door or I’ll blast it open, our security depot be damned.”

“Go away,” Harry called back.

“Harry!” Hermione answered in a dangerously low tone.

Ron held his breath for a moment and when she raised her wand actually took a few steps away. Thankfully it didn’t come down to destroying their former flat. There was a scraping sound and then the door swung open on its own.

There were no lights on and Ron could just make out a blanket-covered form on the bed.

“Harry?” Ron said gently, walking first into the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a very miserable voice, not raising his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said anything I shouldn’t’ve-“

“Harry,” Hermione said gently, walking forward. “It’s alright. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Of course I should be sorry. I’ve ruined everything-“

“Nothing’s ruined,” Ron begged, reaching out a hand. But the moment he lay it on what he thought Harry’s shoulder, he curled out of his touch. “Harry, you’re right. It’s always been the three of us.” He looked over at Hermione who nodded. “We don’t want that to change either.”

Curiously he raised his head, smudged glasses emerging from underneath the red and white blanket Hermione had knitted him for Christmas the year before.

“I don't’ want to ruin your lives,” Harry said miserably.

Hermione scoffed as Ron said, “Ruin our lives? Who do you think you are, You-Know-Who?”

It did the trick. Harry finally looked up at them, his eyes bloodshot and still wet.

“We’re not getting married without you,” Hermione said in a voice that Ron knew better than to argue with.

Harry, however, was determined to be just as stubborn and replied, “Wouldn’t be very appropriate would it, being in love with you.”

Hermione’s face softened ever so slightly, a small smile on her lips. When she spoke it was kind, gentle. “Harry, please talk to us. Let us figure this out…together.”

“But you two-"

But Hermione wasn’t in the mood to argue any longer. With a determined look in her eye, she reached over and pulled his face to hers, lips crashing together. Ron checked himself for jealousy but found none. When they broke apart, Harry look too stunned for words and Ron swooped in, kissing Harry for a second time that evening and the same electric tingles rushed through his body.

They finally let one another go, panting for air and grinning at one another. Tenderly, Ron reached up, wiping the tears from Harry’s face and gently stroking his cheek.

“But… your wedding… all the people.”

“We’re not going without you,” Ron told him firmly.

“We’ll get married later, Harry, or never.” Hermione went on, smiling at them both. “But whatever it is, we’re not going to do it without you.”

“Your parents-“

“Will figure it out,” Hermione cut him off.

“Are going to hate me.” Harry finished anyway.

“No, they won’t,” Hermione said gently, Ron glanced down and found their hands had found one another. “They could never hate someone I love.”

Harry’s cheeks, already flushed with pleasure turned an even brighter pink. He looked to Ron for the same approval.

“We will probably have to pay for the wedding,” Ron said, “But they’ve always like you more than me anyway.”

He grinned, leaning over to kiss Ron’s cheek and Ron felt his own cheeks redden.

“We won’t be able to hide out here,” Hermione pointed out but that was the least of Ron’s worries.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’ve already got a month-long honeymoon booked,” Ron said. “Though, I suppose we’ll have to change a few reservations to three.”

It was Charlie, not used to English time, who awoke first and found the note waiting on the kitchen table.

Sorry everyone, ran off with the bride. Enjoy the food.

Ron.

PS: We’ve taken the best man too.

[frekydeki]

Cupid Can’t Fall in Love

Part 1

Summary: (AU) Eternal and true love is a business transaction for you. Soulmates are simply two file folders tied together with a golden bow. But when eight folders come across your desk, your job gets a little bit stickier with each passing day. Being a Cupid isn’t so easy as it sounds...

Pairing: (Jihyun x Reader) 

| Part 1 | Part 2: Upcoming 

It’d be beautiful. The golden grass, the falling sun, the gentle and warm wind, the serene silence… It would all be so beautiful if he wasn’t staring into your eyes so tearfully. You trace your eyes over his blue hair and follow the line of his jaw, then his neck, over his collar bone and to his heart. Your e/c eyes widen to the size of the moon; a glowing arrow burns frantically in his chest. You harshly draw in a breath and smack your hand over your own arrow, hammering in your heart.

         You can’t process the tear trailing down your cheek as you turn your eyes away and up to the scattered clouds in the sky. Why? How did this happen? It’s got to be a mistake…

         It’d all be so beautiful… If only you could fall in love.

         How… Did it come to this?

Working for Aphrodite isn’t the most exciting employment option. When you were first born, you took a little bit more to your father’s side, preferring to kick ass here and there. But after a run-in with a seething Achille’s, – you told Zeus to just kill the guy but he insisted you talk it out – you got your butt kicked so bad that even Ares himself worried over you. Your mom said your warrior days were over that day. Nobody defies the word of Aphrodite, after all, and that’s why you’re holed up in this stupid office. Battle armor feels much more natural than the pencil skirt and blouse you’re wearing, but this is what you have now; platform heels, scrunchies, paper cuts, and the sound of typing like chinese water torture to your ears. Lucky you, though! You’ve put in your two millennia to get a personal office, away from all the typing and scratching on parchment; its maybe one of your greatest achievements in the past two thousand years since Aphrodite and Ares put you on the bench.

         This tiny little office is your hell a little bit away from hell, you like to say. You still have mental break downs and panic attack under your desk, and you’ve forgotten what wood your desk is made out of; but at least you get some damn silence. Except for the obnoxious banging on your door that’s happening right now. Is it eight already? The dread of a thousand punished souls in the underworld escapes from your lips in a groan; you barely even filed the cases you finished yesterday. Nevertheless, you roll in your rock hard chair – Hera was kind enough to make you a small cushion, even if it looks like a grandma’s afgan turned cushion, you and your butt love it – to swing your door open at a dangerous speed.

         The young blonde before you smiles and points towards the soft close door.

         “Isn’t it great Ares installed those personally for you?” Her raspy voice sputters to you quickly. Her scrawny finger then points to the coffee mug in your hand, “Hey, is that coffee.”

         “Yeah, what el-“ Your hand becomes lighter as she snatches it from you and takes a long swig.

         “I haven’t slept in like three days,” She babbles to you as she puts the coffee back into your hand and turns to the cart littered with folders, “Finals are next week and I haven’t studied all semester.” You’ve grown used to the incessant mumbling that Angelia lets loose every morning while handing in your cases… She’s like this every week, even without finals. “Becoming a god sure isn’t easy work!” She loudly laughs before continuing on about offerings and the rules of appearing to humans.

         “You know, Angelia, if you didn’t spend all of your time programming social media sites for humans, you’d be able to get your work done.”

         “How else is a messenger god supposed to stay relevant? Dad already does all the messaging between gods, so there’s no work for a dumb college god like me.”

         “You’re in college… That’s your job right now.” Your lidded eyes meet hers as she blows a loose strand of curly hair from her face and drops two folders onto your lap.

         “Yeah but I’ll disappear if I loose followers.”

         “No. You won’t. You’re a god born of two gods, not a god born of need. There’s a clear difference. We survive whether or not humans worship us individually. Plus there’s other jobs for gods to do other than meddling and fucking around.”

         “Yeah but I wanna be a messenger god!” She whines as she drops four more folders onto your lap. “Only eight new assignments today. Lucky you.”

         “L… Lucky me?” You screech at her. “I already have two hundred and eighty- eight active cases!” She surrenders her hands and pursues her lips at you.

         “I don’t decide who gets what cases.”

         “Yeah but you could also maybe throw in a word to Aphrodite and be like, ‘Yeah, boss, don’t you think MC already has enough assignments right now?’ You know, maybe stick your neck out for a friend once in a while?” Angelia continues to stack cases on your lap, unphased by the explosive temper you let loose every morning, and you keep on crying up to her, “Are you listening to me Angelia? I’m drowning in stress right now! If I were a nymph I would’ve shriveled up and died three hundred years ago.” With your pouting expression and whiney voice, you can be compared to a kid whose mom put her favorite cereal back on the shelf.

         “But you’re not a nymph. Yay! You won’t shrivel up and die.”

         “But if I were a nymph I would have. Doesn’t that concern you? I could die!”

         “Gods don’t die.”

         “Yes we do!” You snap up to her grinning face, “And the leading cause is stress!” The over caffeinated girl isn’t moved by your whining, so you switch to a bargaining strategy quickly.

          “Okay, hear me out,” You begin with a lowered voice, “Maybe if you just slip these onto someone else’s desk, and then pretend that you didn’t notice when Aphrodite asks you “What the hell?” By then that Cupid would have already started the assignment so there’d be no point in bothering me to do it.” Angelia drops the last heavy file folder on your lap and shakes her head. You blink as the weight of your coffee is lifted from your hand again.

         “No can do, my friend.” She begins as she sips loudly from your coffee mug, before her face scrunches, “Too much creamer.” Angelia puts the mug back in your hand, all the while you watch her with eyes the size of the moon; is she serious right now? Of course you know there’s too much creamer in there; you just had a late morning so for all you care she can take her scrutiny and shove it. “Anyways, Aphrodite and Eros both said - very strictly, I might add - that these files are meant for your hands only. Anyways, I’m only part time, here. That all is way above my pay grade.”

         “Angelia,” You suck in a heavy breath through your nose to try and curb your frustrations with the shrugging girl before you say, “You suck.” At that, she laughs heartily. She giggles her good-bye to you over the sound of her clicking heels as she moves to give the next guy his shackles for the day. “Hey!” She turns over her shoulder to acknowledge your head poking out of your office, “You tell Aphrodite that if I get any more cases this week I’m going to go ahead and fall in love, ya hear?”

“Yeah, right. Someone like you, fall in love?” She snorts, “Not even Eros would take that assignment.” You lift your lip, eyebrows pinching together, and shout back to her:

“Go bother someone else… I’m gonna be here all night because of you.” She waves and smiles pleasantly, which you return half-heartedly. The door shuts gently, and you groan back over to your desk.

         Eight files don’t sound like much to the human ear, but these files hold every single aspect of the subject’s life, so it looks like the holy bible. It’s not that you mind the read all that much – it’s like a nice little short story – but it’s the paperwork and scheming that you hate with every fiber of your explosive being. You look to the mirror hanging on your wall after glancing through one of the files – these were all a little bit bigger than the normal case – and decide to put your work order in for their vial’s early; it’s going to take a while to gather their life essence. You grab a drachma and turn it about in your hand as you scribble the eight names onto separate blue ribbons.

         “Ánoixe.” You cough, watching the solid mirrors surface begin rippling like water after a stone is thrown into it. “Eudorus.” The rippling increases before orange begins to reflect in the mirror; it slowly stops to reveal the freckled and smiling face of your good buddy. “How are you this fine morning?”

         “Don’t play coy with me, MC. I know you’re only here to give me more work.” Your lips snap shut before you laugh lightly.

         “I’m sorry. I usually wouldn’t bother you about it until tomorrow but… I just got eight new assignments and they’re really big files. I thought I’d give you a head start on getting their essence for me.”

         “Eight!” He cries at you, his freckled cheeks becoming red and eyes watering. “You’re already drowning in work already!” He purses his lips and puffs his cheeks as he mumbles under his breath, “Mom really has to stop giving you so much work. You’ll keel over soon because of lack of sleep.”

         “Can you do this for me? I’ll buy you dinner tonight?” He smiles at you.

         “I’d do it even if you didn’t offer food, but since you did you can’t take it back now. Give me the ribbons and I’ll give ‘em to you at dinner.” You push your hand through the mirror, flinching as the humid air of his workplace gathers to your hand.

         “How do you even breathe in there Eudorus? It’s so humid.”

         “You get used to it after a little.” He stops as he eyes you, his lips parted and brows slack in what you can only dreadfully identify as one thing; concern. “Are you getting enough sleep, MC?”

         “With all these cases on my desk, I can’t afford sleep.”

         “We might be gods and all, but we need our sleep just like the humans.” You grin as you roll your eyes playfully.

         “You’re starting to sound like Apollo.”

         “If he sees you like this MC he’s going to tear you a new one about taking care of yourself, and you know he’s going to crack down on your eating habits! You’re worse than Hades sometimes…”

         “I know, I know… I’ll just avoid him at all costs.” Your half-brother grins at you before he waves the ribbons held lightly in his smooth hands.

         “I better get to work on theses. And you better to, if you want to cut down on those piles on your desk.”

         “You’re right. Have a good one, Eudorus.”

         “Yeah, you too.” You watch as your red-headed brother disappears, and the mirror hardens again. Staring at your reflection, you realize you really do look like you’re on your deathbed. Your skin is a shade or two lighter from its usual hue, hair messily tossed into a bun, your bags much more prominent, and lips pulled down in a frown much more than usual. You look away quickly, recalling Angelia’s words from earlier…

         “Yeah, right! Someone like you, fall in love?” You stare critically at the stack of finished reports you need to put in their rightful files; you will never have one of these for yourself… It’s strictly off limits for you as a Cupid. If you fall in love, you lose your job. Sometimes it makes you mad, other times sad, and some rare times, you’re glad.

         Filing cases is the easy part of your job; all the hard work’s done, now all that’s left is topping off the paired folders with golden ribbons and filing them into your large bookshelf for review and approval by Eros. Eros, that sleaze. It’s been at least a millennium since you went through the trouble of pairing him with Psyche and he still has the nerve to waltz into your office and flirt with you shamelessly. Plus, he gets to keep his job despite being head over heels for his wife; who cares if he’s a primordial? He should be held to the same standards as everyone else!

         That’s not what matters at the moment though, you guess. Getting these cases off of your desk is the priority! You managed to close thirty cases last night, so you just need to focus on getting them all patched up nicely. You glance to the new files on your desk; once this is done you can stick your nose into the new assignments. 

         “Is this a joke, mom?” Saying you sounded as loud as Zeus when he and Hades butted heads would almost do a disservice to your anger. You are livid, fuming, downright insane with rage. Her beautiful violet eyes snap up to your own as she gracefully pushes her blonde hair from her face and folds her hands in front of her.

         “Is what a joke, MC?” Most of the time, her voice would’ve calmed you down to the point of rational thought, but not today. You’re ready to body slam her into Tartarus. You wave the files frantically in front of you and drop them onto her desk, eyes on fire and steam running out of your ears. You’re an Ares level threat right now.

         “What the hell are these assignments?” You screech. Opening the top folder you drop the picture of the blonde on her neat, tidy desk. “Yoosung Kim, 21, college student. He’s fucked up right now, mom. He recently lost his cousin, who, might I add, is also one of these files. How the fuck am I supposed to make a dead woman fall in love? And how the hell am I supposed to make someone like Yoosung fall in love while he is like this?” She opens her mouth to respond but you slap another picture in front of her. “Jumin Han, 26, an executive who doesn’t know the half of relationships and trusting another person. I can’t work with this yet! And don’t you even get me started on Saeran and Saeyong, have you even looked through these files? And Jihyun? What the fuck is going on with this guy?” You feel a large hand plop down on your shoulder. A growl nearly comes from you as you look up to your father, his yellow eyes telling you to try and calm down. “Well when the hell did you get here?”

         “I was here the whole time MC. You just marched in, ready for the kill.”

         “Well if she wouldn’t hand me such bullshit cases on top of all my other cases I wouldn’t feel like murdering everyone on this damn mountain!” Ares chuckles as he shakes his head in amusement.

         “You sure are my daughter, but you’re almost worse than me. What have I always told you, little soldier?” Your mouth draws into a thin line, before you mumble your response so lowly that no one could understand you. “No matter how hard it gets, it is your duty, and so you shall finish it.”

         “It could also be Eros’ duty. Or Agata! She only has like, ten assignments right now.”

         “Yes, my dear. But Agata is also very new to working as a Cupid.”

         “She’s been in the department for two hundred years!”

         “These cases require experience and power greater than that of a two hundred-year-old nymph.” You draw your lips into a thin line and eye your mother critically. What the hell does she expect you to do with this? You’re originally a war goddess. You were meant to fight, not shoot people with metaphorical arrows and make sure they fall head over heels with each other!

         “This is the life you have now, MC.” Ares begins, for like, the millionth time this month. You grind your teeth and step away from him. You know that you have to content yourself with working in a quiet office, watching others fall in love, constantly typing on a computer, wearing these stupid pencil skirts and bows…

         “But I hate wearing these damn heels!” Is all you can screech, childishly. Aphrodite giggles as she stands and walks to you.

         “But they make you look so beautiful.” You send a harsh glare up to her; of course, she doesn’t even flinch cause your glares are as harmless to her as a feather is to a rock. “I trust you to handle these assignments better than anyone working here… Even myself. I wouldn’t have given them to you otherwise.”

         “How do you suggest I start these, then?”

         “Drink their essence and see what they need.”

         “I’m not a damned therapist.”

         “Hear, hear!” Ares uselessly calls as he resumes his seat on the couch. He shrinks a little when Aphrodite sends him a harsh, menacing glare; if there’s one thing all the gods have learned, it’s that Aphrodite – and possibly Persephone – are the scariest when they get mad.

         “Yes, but you will know where to go. I can assure you.” You puff out your cheeks and cross your arms.

         “Fine, but you owe me three weeks of vacation since I can’t go next week anymore!” You hiss as you take the files she’d gathered in her hands before you even simmered down – it’s like she knew she’d win you over – and stomp to the door. “I had tickets to the premier of the new marvel movie! Do you know how expensive those are?” You cry, ready to slam the door shut, but giving your mom one more, half-hearted stare.

         “You’re a goddess, sweetheart. You have an endless supply of money.”

         “That doesn’t mean I want to waste it!” And you move to slam the door shut, but it slows just at the end. You swear your eyeballs set on fire as you realize that your father installed yet another soft close door because of you.

         What’s your plan? Dive in head-first and get blind-sided at every corner like Zeus? No way, just thinking about that has you ready to start another war. You need a plan, a good plan, and as much information as you can get. Meaning you’re going to have to work with their guardians. Pompous, inconsiderate, above the law shit heads is what guardians are. In your millenniums, you’ve avoided most, if not all, contact with them. You don’t work well with big heads; they always mess things up because they’re always right, narrow-sighted, and rash. Add to that the state that these wards are in, you can’t imagine these guardians will be the best help… But you’ve got to take whatever you can get.

         And that’s why you’re sitting at a large table of seven guardians, enjoying a measly meal of chicken tenders and fries; ambrosia is too damn expensive these days. But you suppose that as the times have changed, your offerings and followers have fallen to a measly, absolute zero. No worshippers? No ambrosia. It’s a good way to stir up some envy here on Olympus.

         “So, what do you need, Cupid?”

         “I need to know about your wards.” You sigh as you plant a folder in front of each guardian. You point to the empty chair and raise your brow, “Where’s Mina’s guardian?”

         “Uh, she’s out on sick leave.”

         “I thought you guys were invincible?”

         “Well, after all the times she’s worked, I’m sure she needs a break for a little.” Aeneas snaps at you. You roll your eyes; guardians were specifically designed to do everything but need a break. You’d have to check in with Zeus later to see what the hell is going on with her.

         “Okay, whatever.” Continuing, you decide to get straight to the point, “Tell me everything you know about your wards. Why are they in the state they’re in?”

         “Some wards are harder to guide than others.” Jac gently speaks. You look to the soft-featured man, nodding your head. You know that… You’ve always treasured Jac as a guardian, he’s one of the few to look at you on equal grounds.

         “I know. I’m sorry if it felt like I jabbed at you. Could you all maybe explain to me what you’ve learned does or doesn’t work with these wards?”

         “Of course… We’ll do as much as we can to help…”

[warlordess]

An Alternate Journey (Pokeshipping; part two)

Authors - @warlordess and @miyatoriaka

 Notes - Welcome to the next part of the major motion fanfic of the century! MiyaToriaka has beta-ed both the prologue as well as chapter one and given them both her personal seal of approval, so I guess that means we’re good to post!

Part one/prologue can be read here.

Part three can be read here.

Anyway, here’s hoping you all enjoy!

 OoO

 Title - “An Alternate Journey”

 Summary - Eleven year old novice trainer Misty starts her Pokemon adventure, best friends Gary and Ash by her side. But will she withstand every test her travels throw at her and become the greatest master trainer of all time? Fic co-crafted with famous fan-artist, Miyatoriaka!

 Ages - Misty and Leaf are eleven years old, Ash and Gary are thirteen, and the adults are adult-aged so who cares about ‘em? Lol.

Chapter One - Gastly

 OoOoO

 Four days. Four days and five nights. That’s how long their group had been trapped in the god-forsaken Viridian Forest.

 Ash sighed in resignation, grabbing his faded and dusty backpack and tossing it over one shoulder, eyeing a nearby Caterpie as it wriggled its way up the fir pine tree stretching to the sky before it, then began to kick dirt onto the campfire he and Gary had made the night before.

 He’d walked through this very same forest a hundred times before over the course of the past few years, trekked the same path, saw the same cluster upon cluster of trees… Ash Ketchum knew Viridian Forest like the back of his hand and one thing he could say about this place was that it was b-o-r-i-n-g.

 The place was a natural breeding center for bug-type Pokemon, which he couldn’t help but resent with a passion due to their advantage against grass-type Pokemon; his favorite type. However this information didn’t stop Misty from trying to keep their group there as long as possible while she attempted to catch them all, almost constantly switching paths on a dime and getting them turned around and confused.

 Did he say he knew this forest like the back of his hand? Well, he meant he knew the relatively straight path connecting Viridian to Pewter City. As for all of the other ones that slowly formed after decades had passed, he had no idea. The map was a little outdated and pretty rough and generalized to begin with. It was almost impossible to read sometimes unless one of them (Gary) woke up early enough to catch which way the sun was rising from and used that knowledge to decipher which direction was North.

 “Please, please tell me today is the day we finally get out of here,” Ash groaned, halfheartedly gazing in the direction of his friends.

 “Who knows?” Gary replied cryptically, averting his gaze to the sky.

 “No way! That bug catcher I battled last night had a Pinsir and he said he caught it around here!” Misty practically shouted in exuberance, twisting on her heel and facing a nearby group of bushes as if expecting the very same Pokemon species to come leaping out of them, ripe for the catching.

 “Misty, c’moooon…” Ash whined, “We’ve been stuck here for over half a week! You’re already a year or so behind your class of licensed trainers! Are you really going to spend a whole nother one weeding out Viridian Forest?!”

[keep reading] 

The redhead merely pouted in return, causing Ash to avert his gaze to avoid any slight pinch of guilt she was pressuring him to feel. The moment was interrupted almost immediately by a nearby tree rustling, and the whole lot of them stiffened in expectation, Misty and Eevee ready to hop on the offensive at a moment’s notice.

 A Rattata scrambled down the trunk and wound itself in the opposite direction of the group of adolescents with a bramble covered in leaves and berries clenched in its teeth.

 Misty sighed, disappointed, kneeling to pat Eevee, ruffling her fringe in thanks for her effort in being proactive towards their goals.

 “Just a Rattata, huh…? Well we’ve already caught one of those anyway.”

 “As much as I hate to admit it, Ashy-boy may be on to something,” Gary chimed in from the background.

 “Wha’d’ya mean?”

 “We should have arrived in Pewter City last night at the latest. We’re running low on food and Pokemon supplies. If we don’t get out of here by tomorrow morning, we’ll probably be completely out,” the auburn-haired gym trainer warned them all, sobering up Misty’s former mood rather impressively.

 “Ah… okay, fine then, I guess we’ll try and figure something out.”

 “I mean, no matter what, we’re still lost, right?” Ash asked, choosing to ignore his old friend’s jab from before.

 “Hmm…” The redhead responded cautiously, deep in thought. “Maybe Pidgey would be able to fly high enough to see which way we should go?” And she removed the Pokeball from her belt and showed it to her friends.

 “Maybe,” Gary begrudgingly agreed, “but, then again, you caught him just outside of Pallet Town so he doesn’t know this area well, plus you’ve barely bonded with him so he might be unwilling to help you out with something like this, and he might have trouble tracking his way back to us. Not to mention Pidgey aren’t very fast until after they’ve grown some or evolved and yours is pretty young.”

 “Okay, but that’s our only real option other than wandering around and hoping to find the exit or running into another trainer who can help us out, right? So…” Ash wondered aloud.

 “Well, I’m okay with staying here!” Misty replied, hands clasped before her and then she punched one enthusiastically up into the air.

 “Of course you are,” the raven-haired trainer deadpanned.

 “I guess we’ll go with Plan B, which is terrible but still somehow slightly better than Plan A.”

 “So should we bother stopping for lunch when the time comes or keep walking?” Misty asked.

 “Like I said, we’re kinda low on supplies. It would probably be best to skip lunch if we can and just have a slightly early dinner. Then we might have some leftovers to snack on in the morning if we’re still lost and haven’t found anyone to help us out.”

 “Yeah, maybe I’ll be able to get some training in with Pidgey and Rattata while we look around! We gotta beef up for our first gym match anyway, right? And maybe I’ll catch a Pinsir after all!”

 So, settled on that plan, the group of four began ambling around, mostly sticking to the current path unless they happened to run into another that traveled straighter, since that one would more likely get them further faster. Every once in awhile one of them would step a short distance away to see if they’d run into another trainer but there didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

 Evening fell swiftly, the wind picking up enough to rustle the trees and distract them from their mission. When the group decided there was too little sunlight left to tell where they were going, they finally chose to set up camp instead.

 “Hey, guys, I think I’m gonna keep training nearby. I’ll come back right away if I run into someone who can help us find a way out of here,” Misty took the opportunity to say.

 “By the way,” Ash brought up after exchanging a particular knowing glance with Gary, “it’s great and all that you wanna get to know and train up your Pokemon and I get that your choices have been kinda limited so far, but you might wanna think about expanding your team beyond normal and bug types. The first gym uses rock-type Pokemon so nothing you’ve caught so far is gonna stand much chance.”

 “Yeah, a water or fighting type would do you some good but they’re kinda scarce in this area. Maybe you can find a grass-type?”

 “See?” Ash said smugly, “This is why you should have bred your starter using my Ivysaur instead of his Eevee! That woulda given you a good head start, huh?”

 “But your Bulbasaur is so picky!” Misty replied skeptically, hands on her hips. “If I’d chosen to breed my first Pokemon with you, I would have probably been stuck waiting five years instead of one!” A moment later and she knelt down to Eevee, who was sitting beside her, patting and scratching her affectionately behind the ears. “Plus I wouldn’t trade my Eevee for anything!”

 Ash, put out somehow for reasons he couldn’t quite place by her response, turned away and plopped his backpack on the ground.

 “Anyway, we’ll start working on dinner--”

 “--Who’s ‘we’?” Gary replied dryly, “You can’t cook any better than her--”

 “--so just head back in about an hour or so.”

 “Gotcha!”

 And she and her Pokemon disappeared further into the woods.

 The rest of the evening went by rather smoothly. Misty returned at the given time with no luck of finding them an escape route and she and Ash joined Gary for dinner, before taking on their responsibility of washing the pot and dishware they’d used. Dusk turned to complete dark and, with a few attempts at rekindling the fire, the group prepared to turn in for the night, hoping against hope that they’d indeed find their way to Pewter City by the next afternoon.

 However there was one thing Misty had to ask before the night was through.

 “Hey, Ash?” Misty asked curiously as she drew her hairbrush through a thick lock of red.

 “Hmm…?” The response sounded somewhat lethargic from the other side of the fire.

 “Can we have a practice battle?”

 “Wait, what?” He seemed much more alert in retaliation to that question. “Do you mean right now?”

 “Well, maybe not now,” she corrected, sitting down in her sleeping bag and tossing the brush unceremoniously back into her bag. “But tomorrow? I’ve beaten every bug catcher and wild Pokemon I’ve come up against. I - we - could use some more challenging experience,” she finished, eyeing Eevee asleep beside her as she skillfully maneuvered herself into her sleeping bag without jostling the Pokemon awake. “We should be in town by tomorrow afternoon and then I’ll be having… my first gym battle, right…?” she finished with a yawn, laying back and blinking blearily up at the crescent moon shining above her.

 She could barely make it out beyond the canopy of the forest.

 “Well, I mean, I am a gym trainer myself, and you wouldn’t usually fight me until later on,” he told her proudly, sitting up and puffing out his chest. “If you’re worried about having a hard time against your first gym leader, I doubt battling me is gonna help make matters easier for ya!”

 The raven-haired gym trainer laughed egotistically to himself for the next minute or so, Gary choosing to ignore him in lieu of throwing himself into his own sleeping bag for the night. Of course, after enough time had passed, Ash realized he hadn’t garnered any response and craned his neck to try and get a look at his female companion from across the campfire.

 “Misty…?”

 Still nothing.

 “Hey, Misty!” he tried again, tone sharp. There was no way she was already--

 “--Asleep,” Gary noted with a shrug. “Such a shame too, Ashy-boy. She missed your oh-so chivalrous moment of braggery.”

 “Whatever,” the other boy scoffed, turning his nose up and hoping the flickering fire didn’t do anything to highlight the awkward flush on his face, and both of them laid back and tried to sleep.

 It was some time later when Misty snapped awake, the light of the full moon too much to ignore… or maybe it was the pearl white of the fog that had set in during the couple of hours she’d been asleep…?

 She sat up in her sleeping bag, the zipper coming automatically undone as she did so. Eevee felt her trainer stir and began to wake as well, rising up onto all fours and stretching, leaning in and licking the human’s hand.

 “Eevee eev?”

 “Ah, sorry to wake you, girl. I just… I’m just thirsty, I guess,” the redhead said, licking her dry lips and clearing her throat as she looked around for her canteen.

 Something in the air seemed strange. Different. She couldn’t make out much of anything definitive in her surroundings. The smoldering of the cinders in the campfire seemed to fade right before her eyes as she stood up, slipping on her sneakers and bending down to tie them.

 Where was it…? Where was her canteen? Where was her bag of supplies and her Pokebelt and… where was…

 The question faded from her head, evaporating like the white of the fog before her.

 “Eevee, let’s look around some, okay?” she asked warily of her Pokemon partner.

 “Eevee!” the normal-type responded confidently and the two of them began their trek.

 It seemed the world grew a degree colder with every step and their unknown destination farther, their sights dimmer. They were getting everywhere and nowhere at once, walking neck deep in white nothingness looking for the first thing they could find that would indicate a change.

 “I - it’s really cold now…” Misty murmured from between chattering teeth. “Shoulda brought my jacket with me.”

 Right, her jacket, which had been sitting folded next to her shoes when she slept. So she could just turn around and walk back the way she’d come from to find it, she figured, turning on her heel, then coming to a sudden stop at the sight before her.

 It was her sleeping bag, laid out just as it had been before, barely two feet away.

 Something didn’t add up. Something wasn’t right.

 Misty sighed, growing agitated, throwing her head back as she groaned, the full moon above her shining so clearly and nothing - no trees, no clouds, nothing at all - blocking it from view. The same with her sleeping bag, it was the only clear item she could make out for miles, and it seemed almost hypnotic because of that contrast.

 “Eevee…” Misty whispered, though she trailed off almost immediately.

 “Eevee? Eev eevee eev!”

 The cries of her Pokemon seemed so far away, and it took too much effort to look down. She just kept staring at that smoky full moon.

 Wait… smoky…?

 “... isty…?”

 And why was the moon... suddenly full…?

 “Misty?”

 “Eevee?” her Pokemon chirped from far away.

 Wasn’t it a quarter moon when she’d first fallen asleep?

 “Eevee, have you seen my… my bag? And do you hear that? Who’s calling my name?”

 “Misty, snap out... it!”

 “Why does the moon look… so… so full?”

 As soon as the final word left her lips, all of the vibrant white and cold and fog whirled away, sucked instantaneously into an invisible rift. Everything became much louder all at once, disorienting her, and she realized the fogginess had been inside her own head, as though she were ailing with fever.

 She inhaled sharply, swaying on her feet, but everything that had been missing, that she’d been looking for, that she otherwise hadn’t been able to figure out, came back to her so swiftly that it almost hurt.

 “Eevee! Ash! Gary! My--”

 “You finally woke up!” Ash exclaimed in relief, at her side and a hand on her shoulder. “We were worried. You’ve been staring at the sky for the past twenty minutes. We didn’t know what was happening!”

 “I was what?” the redhead replied tiredly, holding a hand up to her forehead and drawing away a sheer layer of sweat. It had felt at the time like she’d jogged an entire marathon…

 “What happened to me?”

 “Don’t know,” Gary told her, on her other side and handing her canteen over so she could sip some water. It was at this point that Misty noticed her backpack and jacket sitting just where she’d left them beside her sleeping bag. “Like Ash said, you got up a little while ago, I heard you do that and woke up to you putting your shoes on, and then you just stopped and started staring at the moon. Eevee and I tried calling out to you but you didn’t seem to hear us. That’s what woke Ash up. It was almost like you were hypnotized.”

 “Hypnotized…” the other two trainers quoted unanimously, though Ash sounded a lot tenser all of a sudden.

 “That wasn’t the moon! I think that was a--”

 And Misty dived for her bag, fishing out her Pokedex and flipping it open by pushing the small button on the side.

 “Pokedex searching… Pokedex searching…” the mechanical voice tweeted, and the digital display indicated via arrows which direction she should face with it.

 “Misty, you think it was a Pokemon that did… whatever it did to you?”

 “Eevee eev eev eevee!” her starter shouted, leaning onto her haunches as if to say she was ready for a fight.

 “Well it’s not like I usually just stand still and stare indefinitely into space, is it?” the redhead bit back more harshly than she meant to.

 “One unknown Pokemon found,” her Pokedex chimed in before Ash could come up with his own witty retort to her comment.

 “Unknown, huh? Doesn’t really help us much, does it?”

 “Unknown Pokemon in Viridian Forest in the middle of the night? Well, I doubt it’s a legendary…” Gary commented, leaning forward and taking her Pokedex into his hands.

 “A legendary?” she replied blankly.

 “A really, really strong Pokemon,” Ash explained warily. “Usually having to do with local folklore and usually very rare, like one-of-a-kind rare.”

 “Ooh…”

 “But it’s probably definitely not one of those. The chances that they’d just show themselves to a bunch of random trainers like this are highly unlikely. More likely it’s a Pokemon you haven’t seen yet and that’s hiding its identity from us for whatever reason, like maybe a ghost-type?” Gary concluded.

 “A ghost-type?!” Misty shouted in glee, on her feet again so quickly that both of her male companions were blown backwards by the maneuver.

 As soon as Ash made it to his feet again, he scurried back to his sleeping bag, peeking his head out at the others as sweat began to pour from his brow.

 “A g - ghost-type Pokemon?! You’re joking, right?!” he yelped, shaking like a leaf, creeping away from their group in sudden obvious terror.

 “Uuh… okay…?” Misty commented in confusion at his response to the possibility.

 “You didn’t know?” Gary asked absently, still flipping through her Pokedex from his spot on the ground. “Ash is scared of ghost-type Pokemon.”

 “He is?”

 “I - I’m not! I just…” And, with much more effort than it should have taken, the raven-haired trainer slithered his way out of his sleeping bag, ambling shakily to a standing position, “... don’t like them! Everyone’s allowed to have something they don’t like, aren’t they?”

 “Well, yeah, but…”

 “While I’m impressed that you’ve been able to hide your phobia from Misty for the past three years or so… here ya go,” Gary finished with a proud smirk, tossing Misty’s Pokedex back into her arms. “These are the only ghost-types native to Kanto. Chances are it’s one of them.”

 “Really? Thanks!” Misty replied, looking over the profile photos one after another. “Let’s see… Gengar…”

 Flip.

 “... Haunter…”

 Flip.

 “... And Gastly.”

 She paused on the last image on her screen, taking in the Pokemon’s perfectly round physical form and the dark, poisonous smog floating around it.

 “I think this is it!” she exclaimed, brows furrowing as her lips curled into a smirk, belying her confidence.

 “Gastly, come out of hiding already! It’s game over!” she shouted, picking up her Pokebelt and snapping it into place behind her waist, smashing her cap onto her head and preparing for battle.

 There was a poof of smoldering dark and a hollow echoing chuckle from above her, the small gassy Pokemon floating down to eye level with the trainer who’d unraveled his ruse.

 “Gastly gaaas…!” he howled in laughter.

 “Let’s see what the Pokedex has to say…” she murmured, ignoring Ash as he tiptoed stealthily behind her.

 There was a high-pitched ping followed by, “Gastly, the gas Pokemon. It is usually invisible to the human eye. Its specialty is its hypnosis.”

 “Sounds familiar…” the redhead begrudgingly admitted to herself, doing her best (and failing) to ignore Ash’s fingernails digging into her arms every time the ghost-type Pokemon floated to and fro. “Wait, is that all you have to say?!” she screeched at her Pokedex, shaking it hard, frantic tears running from her squinting eyes.

 “By enveloping larger opponents with gas, Gastly is able to defeat them.”

 “Okaaay…” Misty ground out, withdrawing the small device for the time being. “I guess we’re just gonna have to figure it out as we go, right, Eevee?” And she smiled confidently at her Pokemon before throwing out an arm and pointing forward. “Let’s battle! Eevee, tackle!”

 Her Pokemon barked its own name in agreement, leaping into the fray, but the moment was interrupted almost immediately by Gary’s wisdom.

 “Actually, normal-type moves won’t have any effect on ghost-type Pokemon.”

 “Wait, what?” the redhead squeaked.

 Eevee, who’d already began dashing full speed at her opponent, attempted her straight-forward assault only to pass completely through Gastly and land on all fours in a patch of dirt behind it.

 “So what do I do?”

 “Run away really fast and never get involved with a ghost Pokemon again?” Ash practically whimpered into her ear, leading Misty to scoff and shake him off.

 There was another familiar ping from her pocket. She scrambled to remove her Pokedex from within, watching as her Eevee leapt to and fro around a still jovial Gastly, which was poofing in and out of sight, sometimes creeping up from behind.

 “Although Gastly’s amorphous body allows it to sneak around almost anywhere, it’s practically weightless physique means it can be easily blown away by the wind.”

 “Yeah, that! Let’s do that!” Ash shouted emphatically.

 “I don’t wanna blow it away, I wanna catch it!”

 “Still, seems like flying attacks are your best bet either way,” Gary sagely advised. “Now might be a good time to call out your Pidgey. You said you wanted to train him up some, right?”

 “Okay, okay…” Misty sighed, putting her Pokedex away one last time and grasping to the left of her belt for that particular Pokeball. “Eevee, come back! Come on out, Pidgey!”

 A lot of things seemed to happen all at once. Eevee indeed returned to her side just as Pidgey took swiftly to the air in a flash of red light. Misty naturally thanked her starter for keeping the ghost-type busy while she came up with her next strategy, and Gastly… Gastly, rather than looking even mildly wary or panicked over having to face an opponent that could potentially do some damage, seemed instead to be despondent over the fact that its original playmate had retreated.

 “Pidgey, use your gust!”

 The flying-type Pokemon dived down then swooped back into a vertical stance, using his wings to suspend himself in mid-air. His flapping grew more and more intense until the campfire light began to flicker and dirt bellowed up into a gritty smog.

 Gastly did its best to stand its ground against its adversary but to no avail, its gaseous cover beginning to fade into the dark of the night, and even its orb-like body starting to spin on its axis as it began blowing away.

 Finally, with one last wrenching rotation of its core and a few attempts of phasing out from between the windy gusts, Gastly vanished with a final decidedly less jolly wail of its name.

 “Aaah, no! I said I wanted to catch it!” Misty cried with a stomp of her foot, fists clenched at her sides. “Shoot! Who knows when o - or even if I’ll see another ghost-type!”

 Pidgey flew back to his trainer, who offered him a half-hearted thanks, and Ash finally seemed to calm down and regain his steady footing. Gary stepped forward too with some surprisingly wise words.

 “Well, whether you caught it or chased it off, coming out on top of a ghost-type Pokemon this early in your career as a trainer says a lot about your skill.”

 “And I’m just glad you took my advice and blew that thing away!”

 Misty, originally smiling in kind to Gary’s compliment, scowled and muttered, “I wasn’t trying to! I didn’t know Pidgey’s gust would be so strong…”

 And, grim expression set upon her face, she took one firm step forward and cupped her hands around her mouth before shouting into the very early morning sky…

 “I wish you’d come back, Gastly!”

 “Gaaaastly…” the Pokemon in question drawled from out of nowhere, popping into existence beside the group of trainers.

 “Ah! You really came back!” Misty yelped, equal parts shocked and excited.

 “Gaaaas…” the ghost Pokemon continued to sulk, not looking at her, floating stiffly away.

 Ash, who’d done well standing like a granite statue with his lips pursed over the past several seconds, began tiptoeing away from the group again.

 “This is pretty surprising. Either Gastly is stronger than we thought or else maybe he just really didn’t wanna leave,” Gary noted, hand to his chin in thought.

 “Hmm… Or maybe both...”

 Misty sucked in a breath then cautiously took a step towards the ghost Pokemon.

 “Hey, um, Gastly, were you just trying to have fun with Eevee earlier?”

 “Gaaas…!” it replied with a subtle nod, barely looking in her direction.

 “And, ‘cause it’s kinda important for me to know, did you mean to hurt me when you used your hypnosis?”

 Gastly seemed downright aghast at the accusation.

 “Gastly! Gaaastly!” it wailed ashamedly, shaking its round body back and forth as if to say ‘no’.

 “So you were just trying to play games and make new friends?”

 “Gastly!” was accompanied by another nod.

 “Okay then!” the redhead responded with a chipper grin while her audience of a loyal Pidgey, suspicious Ash, and mildly impressed Gary stood in the background. “So, now that I know we’re on the same page, I was thinking…”

 “No,” Ash ground out between gritted teeth from somewhere behind her but she ignored him.

 “... How about if you…”

 “I said no!” the raven-haired gym leader stated more vehemently.

 “... join me and my other friends on our journey? I promise you’ll have all sorts of fun and meet tons of new people and Pokemon!” the redheaded novice finished offering.

 Gastly blinked at the female human standing before him with everything shy of open arms. Instead she held up a device that he’d seen capture many a wild Pokemon and take them away in the past, though he had to admit that the overall proposition seemed rather inviting… He looked at the Eevee on all fours at her master’s feet, alternating between nuzzling the human’s leg and sitting back, tail wagging affectionately.

 Next his eyes were automatically drawn to the other two humans standing behind the first, the brown-haired one sporting a smug grin while the last one had the air that many other humans had expressed when he’d snuck up on them for a game of peek-a-boo in the past…

 Altogether they seemed like a well-rounded and diverse group… Yes, he might like to call it home, a place at their sides.

 “Gastly!” he finally responded with a nod and a toothy smile.

 “Really? You’ll come?” Misty gasped in glee, holding up the empty Pokeball she’d been carrying. “Yay! So do you mind if I catch you now?”

 The ghost-type shook his head and waited willingly for his own capture, disappearing with a poof and a residual red light. The Pokeball shook once… twice… before the button at its center blinked from scarlet to white and it went still.

 “Oh my gosh, I did it! I caught a Gastly!” the redhead shouted, dancing forward on the balls of her feet before leaning down to pick up her newest team acquisition. “And without further ado, Gastly, I choose you!”

 The ghost-type reappeared in another flash of red and he, his trainer, Pidgey, and Eevee all jumped up and down together in excitement. Afterwards Misty decided to start the formal introductions.

 “So you’ve already met Eevee and Pidgey, and there’s Weedle, Metapod, and Rattata too but it might be better to meet them during breakfast later. This guy over here is Gary,” and respective guy offered the new group member a smile before Misty moved on, “aaand that’s Ash over there. Oh, but you might wanna--”

 Too late. Misty was going to suggest taking it slow but Gastly had gotten so worked up at the sight of all his new friends that he just couldn’t help himself, vanishing from her side and popping up in Ash’s face with an adoring (or so he was going for, though it came out looking somewhat malicious) expression.

 “Gastly!” he said in greeting, and Ash, who’d been petrified in not-fear-nope-definitely-not, leapt first into the air and then back away from the ghost-type.

 “Yaaagh! Misty!” the boy yelled at the top of his lungs, scurrying up behind his most recent favorite hiding spot (AKA: Misty’s back). “Make this thing stay away from me or else I swear someone’s gonna die!”

 It was unclear if his final statement was a threat or else a paranoid exaggeration of the ghost-type’s powers.

 “Hmm…? But he’s so cute!” Misty cooed, blushing with both hands to her cheeks. In response, the ghost-type’s formerly heartbroken expression at Ash’s slights against him mended into something forgiving and tender. “And I’m just so happy that he’s coming with us! Why can’t you be, Ash?”

 “What?! This is the exact opposite of what I wanted! Why should I be happy?! I didn’t ask for anything like this!”

 “But I’m sure Gastly will be really useful, won’t he?” the redhead continued simpering, “I bet he could easily show us out of this forest!”

 The ghost-type nodded affirmatively but anymore conversation was cut short by more wise words a la Gary.

 “Yeah, but it might be better to get some more sleep first then head out after the sun comes up. We’ve all only gotten two or three hours.”

 “I guess… you’ve got a point!” Misty guffawed before holding up two Pokeballs. “Then we’ll get back to this in a little while! Have a good rest, Pidgey; Gastly!”

 After both Pokemon had been successfully returned, Gary stepped up and clapped a hand to her shoulder.

 “You did good. I think this may have qualified as your first real tough experience as a trainer. A ghost-type is a good start to building a solid team.”

 “Uuh, excuse me?” Ash called out to them, his voice oddly muffled. “I thought we were going to sleep?”

 Apparently he’d dived for his sleeping bag as soon as the opportunity was granted to him.

 “They guy sure does move fast when he needs to,” Gary lamented with a teasing grin.

 OoOoO

 Notes - Gastly has a habit of trying to make friends with the Pokemon of random trainers who wander into Viridian Forest. At least, that’s what I was going for. When he used hypnosis on Misty, he meant to just make her fall back into a deep sleep for the rest of the night but there were some unforeseen side-effects. Luckily, he ended up making human friends as well!

 The next chapter will be posted within the month. Not sure if it’s gonna be one of the planned chapters to do with the comic or a bonus chapter. Either way, I hope everyone looks forward to it!

 Likes are nice and commentary is kind!

[gamerwoo]

Wonwoo: Drawings

Characters: Wonwoo x reader (featuring chanyeol)

Genre/warnings: florist!Wonwoo x tattoo artist!reader, angst, a little bit of fluff in between, some crack, and mild violence????

Word count: 3,822

Summary: He definitely doesn’t look like it, but Wonwoo loves tattoos. He usually wears sweaters to cover his tattoo-clad arms when he works at the small flower shoppe in town, but on one of his days off, he goes to the new tattoo shop down the street, and runs straight into the girl he accidentally punched in the face the night before. (Idea was half created by @ripperoonii)

Wonwoo didn’t necessarily like to spend his time at bars, but it was Seungcheol’s birthday and he was his best friend; he wasn’t going to miss his best friend’s birthday. So, he was dragged to some dive bar a few blocks away from the flower shoppe he worked at.

“Congrats on being another year closer to death.” Jihoon deadpanned, holding his glass up a bit before taking a sip in some sort of half-assed cheers.

“Wow, good one.” Wonwoo chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Thanks.” Seungcheol gave him a fake smile before his face immediately dropped all form of emotion. “Dick.”

Their group of friends snorted and chortled, slapping the eldest playfully on the back. It was rare for all of them to be together, so even with Jihoon’s sarcastic comment, they were still cheery just from gathering all together for once.

As Wonwoo watched Jeonghan finish his drink and wave the bartender over for another, most of the group’s attention had drifted over to a scene being caused by the pool table. The yelling between two men was getting louder and louder, causing most of the patrons of the bar to look over at what was happening. Even Jeonghan and the bartender had frozen and peered over to see what was going on.

“You cheated!” one of the large, burly men slurred.

The other man -- just as tall, but not really as scary-looking other than the tattoos and red hair -- just scoffed and rolled his eyes, spinning the pool stick in his hand. “Did not, you giant pussy. Stop your bitching and pay up.”

Wonwoo hated conflict. It wasn’t that he was a softy, he just chose to avoid confrontation because he believed fighting was pointless. Especially at some bar where two big guys were about to battle it out, he wasn’t having it. He had work tomorrow, and the last thing he needed was a black eye. He ran a flower shoppe for crying out loud!

“I think it’s about time I-”

Wonwoo’s goodbye was cut off by one of the men insulting you -- a shorter -- well, shorter than him -- but still very intimidating girl that was there with the man that was accused of cheating. 

“Take your slut and get out!” the man had shouted.

You simply looked at the man who spat the comment toward you, rolled your eyes, and went back to your drink. However, Wonwoo’s blood was boiling. There were three things he didn’t tolerate: mistreatment of animals, mistreatment of children, and mistreatment of women. While he didn’t want to get involved, he could make an exception for any of those three things.

You weren’t bothered by the comment. Your coworker -- the one in the fight -- brought you to this bar so many times that you were used to the disgusting men and even more dirty comments made toward you. But you could hold your own, and you definitely looked it with the tattoos inked into your skin, and the piercings in your nose, eyebrow, and trailing up and down your ears.

However, this idiot in a denim jacket, black jeans, and white t-shirt seemed to think otherwise as he stood up from the bar and glared at the man yelling at you and your coworker. “Why don’t you fuck off, huh?”

Wonwoo looked thin, and the only things he had going for him to make him even slightly intimidating were his height and his resting bitch face. You thought it looked like a puppy trying to take on a full-grown dog. This would only end one way, and you’d have to be the one to break it up since everyone else was always too worked up. It wouldn’t be your first fight, anyway.

“Why don’t you mind your business, kid?” the man sniggered, looking Wonwoo up and down. “Leave this to the real men, yeah?”

“Real men don’t treat women like that.” Wonwoo stated, walking forward.

“Real men don’t come to this bar.” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Should we ditch before this gets worse?” your coworker asked.

You and your friend, Chanyeol worked at a tattoo shop a few blocks away. Chanyeol didn’t normally look it considering his cute face, but he was muscular and terrifying in fights. You’d seen him with split lips and black eyes too many times to count -- even a broken nose a few times. But he was your best friend, and you’d take care of him no matter how many times he said the wrong thing to the wrong person.

You were just thankful he had some sense in him now.

But unfortunately, you didn’t have any. “Nah, I should stick around and help this poor kid when he gets his ass handed to him.”

Even though it wasn’t really your fight, this stranger was helping you and defending you, so you felt like you should help him out of this mess. That’s why when you noticed the two men standing toe-to-toe, you pushed yourself away from the pool table and put yourself between the two men.

Right as Wonwoo was pulling his fist back at a comment about you that the burly man had made.

“Alright, break it-” your words were cut off with a sharp blow to your nose and cheek, “Argh, fuck!”

You stumbled backwards, into a pool table that you used to lean against as you pressed both hands to the center of your face. You would already feel the warmth from the blood that was dripping down to your lip, and your eyes watered from the pain. But you didn’t cry, thankfully.

“___-ah!” Chanyeol shouted.

The man who punched you -- he was surprisingly strong despite how lanky he looked -- gasped, staring at you wide-eyed. “I-I...I’m so sorry!”

“Hyung!” Chan whined from where he sat at the bar, already sufficiently drunk. “I can’t believe you did that!”

Half of his friends looked shocked, while the other half looked worried. Clearly, this guy didn’t normally get violent, and it was an even bigger shock that he had gotten -- unintentionally -- violent toward a girl.

You just glanced up at the man before your eyes swept the bar. All eyes were on you, except the bartender’s, who was pointing at the burly man who had started the fight before he pointed to the door, telling him to get out.

“Do you want me to do anything, ___-ah?” Chanyeol asked, bending down a bit to look at you. “Let me see your nose.”

“No, I’m fine.” you insisted, though talking hurt. You just looked around the bar, glaring at everybody staring. “Alright, show’s over. Go back to your cheap beer and mind your business.”

You turned away from the crowd, removing your hands from your face. Your palms were covered in blood, and more continued to pour from your nostrils and down your face. You suddenly saw napkins in your vision, but didn’t recognize the hand that was giving them to you. Your eyes followed the arm up until you were met with Wonwoo’s face.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to.” he told you, sounding genuinely distressed.

“Yeah, you don’t look like you’d mean to, either.” you spat, taking the napkins and wiping your hands with a few of them before putting the rest to to clean up your face, and press to the bottom of your nose. At least it wasn’t broken. “Nice aim, by the way.”

“You came out of nowhere!” he insisted before he let out a deep sigh. “But that’s no excuse. I really am sorry. Can I make it up to you?”

You looked up at him, your gaze turning to a glare as you realized how sore and fucked up your face will be for the next week or two. “Yeah, you can learn to stay out of shit that doesn’t involve you.”

And with that, you took Chanyeol and stormed out of the bar.

-

Wonwoo felt awful the next day at work. It wasn’t because he was hungover or anything, but because he couldn’t stop thinking of how he hurt you. You seemed more pissed than in pain, but he still couldn’t believe he’d punched an innocent girl in the face. How was he supposed to live with himself?

He couldn’t think much about it since the flower shoppe was so busy that day, but he liked that business was picking up. It kept his mind off of how awful of a human he was. Plus, he’d be getting yet another tattoo after work, which he had been planning for a week now. Hopefully, all of that kept his mind off of you and your bloodied nose.

Wonwoo was relieved when one of his regulars, a elderly lady that simply went by Mrs.Kang, had stopped by the shoppe for some daffodils because they were her husband’s favorites. She could easily tell there was something on his mind, and he decided to vent to the sweet lady in hopes she could give him some advice.

“Wonwoo, dear, you are the sweetest person I’ve ever met,” she told him, “and I’ve been alive for...a very long time. You visit the children’s hospital, you volunteer at the animal shelter, and you work at this little flower shoppe. People like you are scarce, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo chuckled at her hesitation to say her age. “Thank you, Mrs.Kang.”

“I believe that as long as your intentions are not bad, you are not a bad person.” she concluded. “You never mean to hurt anybody; it was just bad luck. Don’t beat yourself up, dear.”

Wonwoo offered a small but warm smile to the woman. “Thank you. I’ll try to remember that.”

Mrs.Kang was someone who always seemed to learn everything about Wonwoo to a point where he considered her a trusted friend. She was one of the only people, other than his friends, that knew about his personal life, and the sleeves of tattoos that he had on his body. She knew that he was passionate about things he loved, and his beliefs, and he would never do anything to intentionally hurt anybody.

You, on the other hand, sulked all day at the tattoo shop. You and Chanyeol sat on the black leather couch in the waiting area while you waited for your next appointments or any walk-ins. Chanyeol made you press an ice pack to your face between clients to keep the swelling and bruising down, though your skin was still black and purple anyway.

While it was clear that it wasn’t Wonwoo’s intention to hit you, you were still angry he did. How could he be so careless? Then again, he didn’t look like he’d fought a day in his life. He looked like he was trying to look tough, but failed miserably.

“If I ever see that asshole again, I’ll-”

“Didn’t you say he didn’t mean it?” Chanyeol chuckled at how you were flip-flopping over if you blamed him or not. “___, you’re probably never going to see him again anyway. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you laid your head back. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You just have a temper.” Chanyeol giggled.

You frowned, opening one eye to glare at the redhead. “Do not.”

The door to the shop dinged, so you raised your head and looked at the entrance. Your blood boiled, and your nails dug into the ice pack as you squeezed it in rage. Even though he was now wearing a pink sweater, jeans, and white sneakers instead of his outfit from the night before, you recognized his face.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” you growled.

“Do too.” Chanyeol laughed quietly before he stood up to greet the guy. “Long time, no see.”

“Y-you work here?” Wonwoo stammered as he took in your familiar forms. “Shit, ah... I’m sorry, I can go somewhere else if you-”

“Did you make an appointment?” Chanyeol wondered, already walking over to the front desk to check the computer.

“Yeah, last week.” he nodded as you stood to follow Chanyeol.

“Name?”

“Wonwoo.”

“Ugh!” you groaned, your hands dropping to your sides, and revealing the nasty bruise Wonwoo’s hand left.

Both men looked at you, Chanyeol quirking his eyebrow. “A client assigned to you, I’d take it?”

You nodded, covering your face with your hands, and the ice pack you were still holding. “Yup.”

“I can-”

“No,” you cut off Wonwoo’s offer to either switch or reschedule with someone else or whatever, dropping your hands and stomping off down the hall, “just follow me.”

Wonwoo nodded at Chanyeol and mumbled a ‘thank you’ before he followed after you, not wanting to make you more angry. You led him into your little room and had him sit down on the chair before you sat in your swivel stool and began to prep.

“Alright, what am I doing?” you asked, trying to keep your tone even, but the bite to it didn’t go unnoticed.

Wonwoo pulled a folded up piece of paper and handed it to you. You took it in your hands and unfolded it, turning it this way and that to try to figure out what in the hell it was. It looked like a child did it but didn’t have an actual thing in mind. It was just...scribbles.

“Two things,” you spoke up after examining the drawing, “what the fuck is this, and why did you make this your first tattoo?”

Wonwoo just chuckled, finding something that you didn’t understand to be funny. “This isn’t my first.”

He rolled up both of his sleeves, revealing collages of ink on both arms that disappeared under his pink sweater. No doubt that there were probably more on his body and not just his arms, but you weren’t about to ask him to take his shirt off. But it was clear you were in awe.

You did notice some of the tattoos looked...weird. Not that they were done weird, but that the drawings themselves were weird. Actually, a lot of them looked like children drew them, between stick figure people to scribbles with no clear intention, to blobs of random color outside lines that didn’t make sense.

“What...are these?” you asked slowly as you continued to examine his arms.

“I visit the children’s hospital, and some of them grow pretty attached to me.” he explained with a meek shrug as his cheeks stained a blush pink. “They can’t do a lot, so they usually just draw. Some of them draw pictures, and I get them tattooed to show them later. It makes them happy, and it makes me happy.”

Wonwoo punching you full-force in the face didn’t make you cry, but his explanation almost did. You felt your eyes getting misty as you thought about this sort-of-scary looking man covered in tattoos that were all children’s drawings that they had made for him. You wondered the story behind each of the illustrations, and if any of them were okay and out of the hospital now.

Clearly, you had severely misjudged this guy.

You finally peeled your eyes away from his skin when you had blinked back all the tears. “What’s your name?”

“Wonwoo.” he told you with a soft smile.

“I’m ____. It’ll...” you paused to take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions under control. God, why did this guy have to be an actual saint? “It’ll be an honor to tattoo you.”

Wonwoo’s face brightened, and his toothy grin was about as bright as the fluorescent lights. “Thank you.”

As you sanitized and put your gloves on, you made small-talk with Wonwoo like you did with your other clients. You found out that he worked at the flower shoppe down the street -- one that you’d always wanted to visit but never had a need to buy yourself flowers -- and also volunteered at the animal shelter. He really was an angel.

“So you’re covered in tats, but you do all this softy shit?” you laughed as you spun back around to face him, prepping his skin to be inked. “You’re something else, Wonwoo.”

“Well, it’s not everyday I see girls covered in tattoos and piercings going into dive bars and putting themselves between two men about to fight each other.” he shot back with a chuckle of his own as he watched you disinfect his skin and put the tracing on. “I guess we’re both pretty odd.”

“Chanyeol -- he’s the tall guy I was with last night,” you explained, gesturing with your head to the waiting area where Wonwoo had last seen your tall friend, “he always says I’m the definition of not reading a book by its cover.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

You sighed softly as you started up the machine and began to dip the needle in ink. “Well, because he says I’m a big softy. Yeah, I’ve gotten into a lot of fights and shit, but... Hmm, what can I use as an example?”

You thought for a bit as you pressed the needle to his skin and began to trace the outlines you had put on him. While you were always one to be more of a rough and tough kind of person, you weren’t always like that. You just kind of had to learn to be like that when you were a girl who lived alone. As far as the tattoos went, though, you just liked them.

“Oh!” you had finally thought of something, and Wonwoo laughed at how excited you seemed. “I don’t like bugs. I can’t kill them, and I can’t capture them to release them. I just can’t go near them at all.”

“You can fight a guy who is six feet tall, but you can’t take care of a spider?” he chuckled, tossing his head back in laughter. “That’s adorable.”

You couldn’t contain the heat creeping up into your cheeks. “Adorable, huh? Nobody’s ever called me that.”

Time with Wonwoo went by faster than you expected, and you actually enjoyed his company. He actually made you giggle. He also didn’t let it go, and neither did Chanyeol who had heard down the hall from your open door.

As you stood behind the desk with Chanyeol, who was examining Wonwoo’s other tattoos, Wonwoo slid the money he owed you -- plus a very generous tip since he still felt bad about your face -- across the counter. “So, if I ever need another tattoo...?”

“I’d be more than happy to do it for you.” you smiled with a nod. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

“No, thank you.” he grinned. He turned to leave, but then seemed to remember something. “Oh, ___; what’s your favorite flower?”

The question seemed a bit odd and out of place, but you answered anyway. “Sunflowers.”

He nodded slowly before saying goodbye to you and Chanyeol and leaving the shoppe.

“You like him.” Chanyeol teased once the door had closed.

You frowned with a huff, pressing the ice pack back to your face -- which, Wonwoo kept apologizing for. “Do not.”

-

The next day when you arrived to open the shop, you found a bouquet of flowers on the welcome mat in front of the door. You bent down to pick up the bundle of flowers that were held together with a pink ribbon before unlocking the door and entering the shop.

When you had turned on the lights and made your way to the counter to turn on the computer, you read the small card it came with.

‘___,

I can’t say sorry enough. I hope these help you.

-Wonwoo’

You couldn’t stop the smile that crept it’s way onto your face. Before anybody else showed up, you hurried down the hall to your station to put them in some water and hide them away from Chanyeol’s teasing.

However, the teasing was inevitable when more flowers showed up twice a week. Later that week, Chanyeol walked into your room where you were with a client, a bouquet of sunflowers in his arm.

“Special delivery for Miss ___ from her boyfriend.” he teased with a childlike grin, resting the flowers on a nearby counter.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you pouted as Chanyeol left before you could stab him with a needle or something.

Before you had started to wash up and tattoo the small, nervous girl in your room, you checked the card on the flowers.

‘___,

I wanted you to know the boy loved the tattoo! Thank you again for doing such a wonderful job.

-Wonwoo’

Your heart fluttered at the fact Wonwoo was continuously sending you flowers, and that feeling only worsened as the weeks went on, and he continued sending more and more. Some were just sunflowers, and some featured other flowers and greenery that accented the large yellow flowers perfectly. Wonwoo was truly great at what he did.

And you finally got those flowers for yourself you always wanted.

But you started to feel...kind of bad. You face eventually healed, and you hadn’t seen or properly spoken to Wonwoo in a while. The conversation and were one-sided, just like the gifts. But what could you send that would be meaningful? You didn’t know what he liked.

Then again, you were an artist. You could think of something, right? 

It took a few days to a week, but you eventually thought of the only thing you deemed decent enough to send back. When Wonwoo went to open the flower shoppe one morning, he saw a box in front of the glass door. He picked it up, seeing there were no addresses or stamps on it, meaning it was hand delivered. That made him curious.

He brought the box inside and put it on the counter top where he worked. He used a pair of scissors to open the box, and gasped softly when he saw the framed pencil drawing inside. It was a picture of him, eyes closed with a content smile. Surrounding him were a few sunflowers, and a halo floating above his head with angel wings coming from his back. He noticed that there were even a few of his tattoos drawn on his arms, and he was shocked that that detail was correct.

Under the picture was a note that he immediately picked up after carefully setting the portrait on the counter.

‘Wonwoo,

You’ve made it up to me enough, so it’s about time I do the same. You really are an angel.

-___

PS I hope I got the tattoos right!’

Wonwoo covered his face with both hands, trying to hide the shy smile on his face even though he was alone in the store. How did you remember what he looked like so clearly? And the tattoos were a whole other thing! He wasn’t only impressed and flattered but...something else. It was a good feeling though.

A very good feeling.

[vikingpoteto]

Oh wow merry– New Year’s eve? How did this happen, you ask? Well, I had a perfectly structured fic that was supposed to be ready for Christmas, but at about 20k words I realized that I wasn’t even in the middle of the story yet and there was no way that would be ready on time. The solution I found? Write an entirely different story!!! Wow! I’m so smart! So here we are! Valentine’s day stuff instead of a weird soccer club AU! I poured my heart into this story (heh) and I ended up happy with the results. This is my gift for @bikatsuki, for the @dailybnha Secret Santa! This was super fun to write and I really hope you find this fun to read!

Title: Valentine’s day chocolate is (not) overrated. Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou Word count: 5.386 Rating: T Warnings/Tags: Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Humor, Established Relationship, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, rated for language, Canon Compliant, Friendship Summary:   Bakugou thinks Valentine’s day is a bullshit holiday for bullshit people that spend money on useless sweets. However, if Kirishima wants chocolate that bad…

READ ON AO3

Katsuki Bakugou is an above-average man of simple needs. He has always been. Currently, for example, there are only two things he needs: first, to be the absolute best at everything. Second, to be left the fuck alone.

He’s working hard for the first already. He has been since he was a young child and, although he still has quite a long way to go, he’s getting closer every day. Bakugou is going to become one hell of a hero before anyone notices and fuck everything else.

The second need, however… There are a few problems.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Ashido asks, from Bakugou’s bed.

From his fucking bed. The black-eyed freak just showed up unannounced to his room asking for his notes which, okay, that was already annoying enough, but forgivable. Bakugou is one of the top students of their year, so he can’t blame Ashido for wanting to take a peek at his notes.

Although it isn’t like him to help his rivals, Ashido… isn’t horrible. If compared to some other people, that is. When he becomes a professional hero, Bakugou will have to interact with other heroes and he’d rather have Ashido there than not. Considering how she barely managed to get passing grades in their second year, she’ll need all the help she can get, be it from Bakugou or the ponytail chick or the ginger ponytail chick or whomever is patient enough to help her.

That being said, Bakugou gave her the notes and told her to scram. Instead of doing that, Ashido waved him off breezily and walked into his room.

“Don’t be silly,” she had said. “I’m more productive when I have company.”

And she dove into his bed, pulling her own notebook from her bright green backpack to start copying his notes.

Bakugou let her. After three years dealing with his classmates’ bullshit, he’d learned a thing or two. For example, he learned that Sero is probably the second least annoying of all of them, so he found himself hanging with Sero whenever he didn’t want to be bugged about being a loner. He learned that Kaminari thrives on attention, so the best way to get rid of him when he’s being annoying is to simply ignore him. He also learned that when Ashido wants something, sometimes it’s easier to just let her have her way, because arguing causes her to start nagging and Bakugou has no energy for that.

But then she starts trying to make small talk while he is studying - and she’s also supposed to be studying, mind you. Bakugou is drawing the line.

“Focus on what you’re doing,” he says.

“I’m focused,” Ashido replies. “I’m great at multitasking.”

“Multitasking is bullshit. You either whole-ass a thing or you half-ass two.”

“Aw, Baku. You care.”

“Don’t call me that. And I don’t fucking care, I just want you to finish what you’re doing so you leave me the fuck alone.”

Ashido throws a pillow at him and misses by almost an entire meter. Really makes you wonder how safe it is to train with this woman that projects acid from her skin.

“Don’t be mean or next time I’ll study with Yaomomo instead.”

Bakugou wants to scream out of frustration, but he knows that’s what she wants. If he explodes, that means that she’s won and Bakugou won’t let her have that.

“Then.” He grits through his teeth. “Why the fuck. Aren’t you. Studying. With her.”

Ashido shrugs. “She had a date.”

And she waits, smiling expectantly. However, Bakugou couldn’t care less about the ponytail chick’s love life, so he doesn’t ask about it. Instead, he turns his back to Ashido and focus on his own homework.

The coldness technique despite working wonders on Kaminari, does very little against Ashido.

“Fine, fine, I’ll work in silence. So long you answer the question. What are you doing tomorrow after class?”

Bakugou sighs. “I don’t fucking know, all right? Nothing. Now shut up.”

As always, Ashido does the opposite of what she was told. “Wonderful! If you’re free, come shopping with me!”

“I’m busy so no.”

“Don’t be an ass! I’ll help you pick good chocolate.”

“The fuck would I buy chocolate for?” he asks

Ashido pouts in disappointment. “So, you already bought yours? Dang it. All the girls already bought theirs and I was thinking of stealing some of each of them, but that would be uncool. I thought we could buy some together.”

Bakugou finally takes the bait and turns to her once more. As annoying as she is, Ashido is good at remembering things about her friends. (Not that Bakugou is her friend-friend. He’s a person that she knows some things about, that’s all.) Ashido should know by now that Bakugou does not care for any kind of sweet, chocolate included. Why would she think she could get him to go out with her by bribing him with chocolate?

“I didn’t buy any chocolate,” he says. “Why would I spend money on chocolate?”

Ashido’s eyes grow wide.

“Wha- Bakugou, it’s almost Valentine’s day!”

“So?”

Ashido gasps loudly, jumping to her feet and throwing her hands up because she’s a huge drama queen.

“Oh my God,” she screeches. “You’re my best friend’s boyfriend! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!”

On the verge of his patience, Bakugou stands as well because, regardless of their position in the least-annoying-classmate list (Ashido ranks third, after Kirishima and Sero), no one yells at him. In his room (and in all the other rooms, except when Present Mic is around) Bakugou always screams the loudest.

“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING, YOU RACCOON EYED FREAK?”

“EVERYTHING, YOU NORMAL EYED JERK! IT’S VALENTINE’S DAY! YOU SHOULD GIVE YOUR BOYFRIEND CHOCOLATE!”

Bakugou gapes at her. “Girls give chocolate on Valentine’s day.”

“Are you a moron?” Ashido crosses her arms and pouts. “A lot of not-girls give away Valentine’s day chocolate. Kiri got a bunch last year.”

That makes Bakugou stop on his tracks.

“People gave Kirishima chocolate?”

“Wow, wow, hold your murderous jealousy.” Ashido raises her hands in a surrender gesture. “That was before you two started dating. And yes, your precious Kirishima got chocolate. Now, he isn’t popular with girls. At all. Most girls think he goes a little over the top with the manly thing…”

Bakugou mumbles something about girls not knowing shit about anything, but Ashido promptly ignores him.

“A lot of boys look up to him, though. And his popularity has only grown now that we’re third years. Now how embarrassing would it be if Kirishima got chocolates from all of his underclassmen but not from his own boyfriend?”

Bakugou glares at her and opens his mouth to argue. He can’t think of any response to that, so he shuts his lips again.

Suddenly, he imagines himself with a neatly wrapped package of chocolate, waiting at the gates of the school for Kirishima. People walking by, staring at him and giggling, because all of them know. They simply know what Bakugou is doing there and they’re all laughing at him. There’s no way he’d do such a ridiculous thing.

“This entire celebration is bullshit,” he says finally.

Ashido grins. “You know I’m right, don’t you?”

“Out.”

“What!”

“Out of my fucking room, Raccoon girl! OUT!”

When Ashido doesn’t shows any signs of moving, Bakugou picks her up and ignores her shocked shout. He throws her over his shoulder and pretends not to notice her struggles to get down. She doesn’t try to use her quirk to slide from his grip (because the last time she did, Bakugou reacted by using his own quirk, things got out of hand and the two of them exploded/melted a hole on the floor and Aizawa almost expelled them both) but she screams and kicks a lot.

“I didn’t finish copying your notes yet!” She protests loudly.

“Too fucking bad!” Bakugou replies and tosses her out of the room, locking the door after her.

The nerve of that girl, honestly.

On the next day, Bakugou runs alongside Kaminari. It’s just the beginning of the laps, so both boys pace themselves. Both are wearing disappointed faces - Kaminari looking sadder, Bakugou angrier.

“Man, I can’t believe he chose Tetsutetsu over us,” Kaminari says with a pout.

“Shut up,” Bakugou replies.

Kaminari nods, as though Bakugou’s answer is reasonable - as though he could understand some hidden meaning in Bakugou’s words - and keeps running. On that moment, both boys are experimenting deep betrayal.

For most of their P.E. practices, the teachers ask them to have a partner. Most students pick a permanent partner for the entire year.

On their first year, Kirishima had been Bakugou’s partner. How could he not? His quirk was the most compatible with Bakugou’s and the two of them worked well together. They had a good dynamic. Meanwhile, Kaminari was partners with the goth chick. Their quirks weren’t the most compatible, but they got along well and thus understood each other enough to battle side by side.

On their second year, Kirishima and Kaminari were on class B while Bakugou remained a class A student. Bakugou ended up forming a temporary partnership with Sero while Kirishima and Kaminari partnered up with one another.

On their third year, Kirishima, Kaminari and Bakugou were together in the same class again, so Kirishima had a choice to make. (That shouldn’t be much of a choice, really, after all Bakugou was Kirishima’s fucking boyfriend and Kaminari could just return to Jirou.) But then, when Bakugou went ahead and asked Kirishima to run with him for Aizawa’s stupid, boring marathon, Kirishima smiled at him and went:

“Sorry, babe, but Tetsu asked first, so I’m going with him.”

Bakugou was so shocked he isn’t sure what he replied. Next thing he knows, he’s heard Kaminari yelling something about “bros before hoes” and he came by complaining that the goth girl had ditched him for the ponytail chick. And then he was promptly turned down by Kirishima as well.

“You know what?” Kaminari starts. “You should totally make Kirishima sleep on the couch, Blasty.”

Bakugou could point out that he and Kirishima don’t live together. He could tell Kaminari to go fuck himself (he kinda wants to. Really bad.) However, they are supposed to run five laps around campus side by side, so Bakugou prefers to finish the task before lashing out. He adopts his recently-discovered, very effective strategy for dealing with Kaminari: pretending he hasn’t even heard what the other boy said. Sometimes he succeeds and Kaminari shuts up, defeated. Sometimes Kaminari ends up pulling an Ashido and taking Bakugou’s silence as a challenge to see how far Bakugou’s non-existent patience stretches.

The latter often results in something exploding, someone (often Bakugou) being electrocuted and Kaminari going on full idiot mode, so it isn’t a path Kaminari chooses often.

Today, however…

“Oh, I know!” Kaminari grins widely. “Tell him you’re not giving him chocolate on Valentine’s day!”

Bakugou glares at Kaminari until his stupid grin dims a little. He turns his gaze forward before answering.

“I’m not giving him any stupid chocolate anyway.”

Kaminari stumbles on thin air and stops running. Bakugou wonders why these idiots have to react like this, especially when they are in the middle of a fucking class.

“What do you mean you’re not going to give him chocolate? He’s your boyfriend.”

Why does everybody keep saying that as if Bakugou would forget?

“So fucking what?” Bakugou throws his hands up in frustration. “Yes, even though he prefers running with fucking Tin Man, he’s my boyfriend! I know! Still not giving him fucking chocolate! Screw this damn holiday!”

“But you gotta, man! You’re supposed to give your boyfriend chocolate! It’s, like, the law.”

“You were just telling me not to give him the stupid chocolate!”

“I obviously wasn’t being serious! What the hell, Bakugou!”

Ponytail and Goth run past them, both girls chatting idly as they run in a comfortable pace. Ponytail gives them a worried look as though she’s considering interfering in their discussion. Goth knows better, so she grabs Ponytail’s arm and makes sure she doesn’t stop. Bakugou can’t believe these losers are running ahead of them because of Kaminari’s nonsense. His patience starts wearing thin.

“Whatever, just get moving again.”

“No!” Kaminari stomps his foot. “Damn, Bakugou, the least you can do for your boyfriend is give him chocolate on Valentine’s day. Kirishima would give you chocolate.”

When Kaminari says it, Bakugou realizes that he can picture that easily. Kirishima is the kind of person that would wait by the school gates. He wouldn’t mind the people staring and giggling, though. Or, well, he would mind, but he would tell himself to endure it, because that would be the manly thing to do. He would be carrying a badly wrapped package that he tried decorating himself in a horrifying red paper with little biceps drawn on it or something equally preposterous. It would look awful, but Kirishima would have spent the entire night working on it.

Bakugou shakes his head to wipe that image off of his brain.

“He would not,” he says, “because Kirishima knows I hate chocolate.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you’re the Grinch,” Kaminari scoffs. “But if you were a regular human being, Kirishima would totally give you chocolate. And, somewhere deep down in this little grinchy raisin that you call a heart, you know that it’s your moral duty to give Kirishima sweet, nice, homemade chocolate.”

Bakugou breathes in and out. Kirishima is the kind of moron that would get super excited over useless shit like this. Homemade chocolate and all of that crap.

Then Deku and Todoroki run past them. Deku gives them a curious, yet mildly terrified look. Todoroki doesn’t even glance in their direction.

There’s no way Bakugou is finishing these stupid warm-up laps after those assholes.

“Kaminari, you shut your damn mouth and start fucking running this instant or I’m gonna give you a reason to run.”

“Pffft. As if.”

Bakugou tenses up and small explosions starts to crack in the palms of his hands. Kaminari lets out a high-pitched screech and starts running.

Good.

Bakugou is not thinking about Valentine’s day when he heads to his bedroom on that night. It’s a stupid holiday, anyway. Everything is annoying and pink at the shopping centers, chocolate is overpriced and people won’t shut up about confessing feelings and getting confessions and all of that bullshit about obligatory chocolate and romantic chocolate and store - bought and homemade- Long story short, Bakugou thinks the entire concept of Valentine’s day is bullshit.

He’s already twisting the knob of his door when he decides he’s too annoyed for homework. He takes a couple of extra steps and opens Kirishima’s door instead, going in without knocking.

He finds Kirishima lying on his back on the floor with a manga in hands. Instead of telling Bakugou off for just walking in as though he owns the place, Kirishima smiles brightly at him.

“Hey,” he says. “I thought you were going to ignore me longer for ditching you for Tetsu earlier.”

Bakugou blinks, taken aback. Fuck. He was so busy not thinking about Valentine’s day he’d forgotten he was supposed to be angry at Kirishima.

He decides to just avoid the comment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” He asks.

Kirishima sits up and opens his arms for Bakugou. “Did you come here to study?”

Kirishima is wearing a sleeveless shirt and his hair is tucked in a small ponytail on the base of his nape. That and his bashful smile are an invitation not even someone as strong as Bakugou could resist.

“No,” he says and he settles in front of Kirishima, letting him loop his arms around his waist.

“Then I’m not supposed to be studying either,” Kirishima says and kisses him.

Bakugou’s (not) friends often tell him he needs to chill. That he’s going to eventually have a permanent wrinkle carved into his forehead and die of stress at the age of 26. Bakugou tells them they should go fuck themselves, although he does think he could use a little less tension. Sometimes.

When he’s kissing Kirishima, Bakugou doesn’t feel tense at all. Ever since the sports festival of their first year, Bakugou has always known that Kirishima is unbreakable and that he will not waver. Since then he started feeling… safe… around Kirishima. There’s no other way of explaining it.

After months together, their kisses have become less awkward, with less teeth clashing (for which Bakugou thanks God. He lost count of how many times Kirishima’s stupid teeth had gotten him split lips that had all of their friends bothering them about.)

Now their kisses are confident and unworried. Bakugou knows how to bite down on Kirishima’s lower lip just hard enough that has him making that adorable little throaty sound. Kirishima knows how Bakugou loves it when he wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him closer until there’s no space between them. They’re growing used to each other. Their kisses are starting to feel like coming home.

Bakugou puts a hand on the floor for better leverage, but his fingers touch something crisp. He breaks the kiss with a (mildly disgusting) wet sound and looks down, startled. It’s candy wrap.

“Uh…” Kirishima says, still a little dazed, as though he’s wondering where Bakugou’s lips went. Then his gaze follows Bakugou’s. “Oh. Sorry, I was eating this earlier and forgot to toss the paper.”

He grabs the paper and gets up to throw it in the trash bin. Bakugou follows him with his eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like sweets that much.”

“I prefer savory food, true.” Kirishima nods as he comes back to Bakugou’s side. “But Kendou-chan got this huge chocolate box from her mother and she was sharing with everyone, so she gave me one. And well. It’s chocolate. I wouldn’t refuse chocolate.”

Kirishima chuckles a bit and Bakugou squints at him.

“What’s wrong? You wanted chocolate too? I didn’t think of saving some for you, since-”

“I hate chocolate, of fucking course I didn’t want it.”

“Then what is it? You were making that intense face.”

Bakugou stands and offers a hand to pull Kirishima up as well. Kirishima takes it with only a mild confused look.

“Off your ass,” Bakugou says. “We’re gonna do your homework now.”

Kirishima protests that he wants to keep making out, but Bakugou makes a compelling point by pulling Kirishima’s grades from the last written tests. They find the middle ground: they don’t do homework or make out, but they sit together and cuddle on Kirishima’s bed while reviewing some important points from the lasts classes.

With his head resting on Bakugou’s shoulder, Kirishima only pays half-attention, every now and then pressing small kisses to Bakugou’s shoulder and openly laughing when Bakugou scolds him.

Bakugou must be losing his touch, but he simply can’t stay angry when Kirishima is smiling like that.

If he could, Bakugou would like to be the reason of that smile. Which means…

Fuck.

Bakugou Katsuki is an above-average man that cares about very little. In fact, you could say that he only cares about two things.

The first thing he cares about is his lifelong dream of becoming the number one. He’s worked his ass off to be the best hero he can be and dedicated all of himself to his goal. He refined his talents and worked hard through his issues and got far, and he would go farther than anyone else, because he cares so deeply for his dream.

The second thing Bakugou cares about is Kirishima.

Well, sue him. Kirishima is strong and funny and beautiful and Bakugou fucking loves him. He doesn’t want to be the boy waiting by the school gates with a stupid pink package and he certainly doesn’t want Kirishima to give him chocolate because let’s be honest: Kirishima would totally put protein inside his homemade chocolates and they would taste disgusting. Bakugou does, however, want Kirishima to smile.

So he doesn’t go out on that Saturday because stupid underclassmen are giving chocolate to his damn boyfriend and the tradition demands that he asserts dominance by giving the most impressive, most homemade (?) chocolate. (Although the dominance is 100% his, because Kirishima loves him and his chocolate is going to be the best of all.) He doesn’t go shopping for chocolate because Kirishima would give him chocolate (despite the fact that he wouldn’t lose in chocolate giving, not even to Kirishima.)

Bakugou goes out because he can’t take out of his head the image of Kirishima’s smile, wide and sunny, all because he got chocolate from his boyfriend. Kirishima will probably brag about it to his stupid friends and Bakugou will have to yell at him because of it, but Kirishima will smile again and Bakugou will melt inside and muster all of his strength not to show anything on the outside.

And everything else be damned. Bakugou isn’t ashamed of any of that.

The only reason he’s wearing the beanie and the face mask is because it’s cold outside, it’s not that he’s trying to not get recognized while he browses through shelves and shelves of chocolate in a stupid store that smells awfully sweet.

A cheerful girl wearing the store’s uniform offers Bakugou help, which causes a group of giggling girls to eye him curiously. He tells the girl to scram and the group of gigglers decides to look for their chocolate in a different aisle. Bakugou has barely had time to feel thankful for the relative solitude when a pair of familiar people waltz into the store.

“If you don’t behave, I’m not giving you friend chocolate,” Ashido threatens.

“If you don’t give me chocolate, you better find another failing-grades-partner,” Kaminari says.

Bakugou.

Wants to die.

He turns around and he starts heading to the back of the store, somewhere, anywhere, he just needs to hide until he finds an opportunity to leave or-

“Bakugou?”

Fuck.

“How the hell did you know it was me?”

“Bakugou!” Ashido comes running in his direction, her eyes sparkling. “You stick out like a sore thumb! No one else is wearing all black in an entirely pink store!”

“And I’d recognize those saggy pants anywhere, anytime.” Kaminari says, making finger guns.

Ashido and Bakugou stare at him.

“Not that I stare at your butt all the time, of course,” he explains with a solemn nod. “It’s just that Kirishima is all dude-look-at-Bakugou’s-butt so often that I kinda grew familiar with it.”

“To be fair, I also stare at his butt sometimes,” Ashido says and shrugs.

Bakugou lets out a heavy sigh. “What are you fucks doing here?”

“Buying chocolate,” Ashido says cheerfully. “And so are you! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, my precious, hot-headed son.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says.

“Bakugou, language!” Ashido gasps and then turns to the nervous saleswoman that has been eyeing the three since they started carelessly yelling about butts. “Forgive my rude son, he’s an Aries.”

“Sooo…” Kaminari starts with a shit-eating grin that has, like, 50% chance of causing an explosion. “You are buying Kirishima chocolate after all.”

“Ok, so listen here, you dipshits,” Bakugou starts, stabbing a finger at Kaminari’s chest. “Yes, I’m fucking buying chocolate for my stupid freaking boyfriend and that’s none of your damn business. If you don’t want me to shove that damn candy cane over there up your goddamned ass, you better stay the hell outta my way , GOT IT?”

And yet.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

Bakugou had thought this through. His dumb classmates can’t cook for shit, so he almost always has the kitchen all for himself. He decided to prepare Kirishima’s chocolate at night, when everyone is in too tired because of whatever torture Aizawa had put them through and not in the fucking kitchen. Then how come he finds himself staring at the grinning ugly mugs of Sero, Ashido and Kaminari?

“We came to help,” Sero says cheerfully.

“I don’t want your dumb shits’ help. Scram.”

“Don’t be like that, Katsuki-kun,” Ashido says. “We won’t get in your way. Think of us as just pleasant company.”

“PLEASANT MY FUCKING ASS, YOU-”

“Now, now!” Kaminari raises his hands as if surrendering. “This is the dorms kitchen, Bakugou. We have every right to be here as U.A. students, don’t you think?”

Bakugou is about to explode Kaminari’s entire stupid face when he notices the little curl on the corner of his lip. Kaminari is being a little shit on purpose. He wants to annoy Bakugou into exploding on him. The little bastard.

Ignoring the bottomless rage in his gut, Bakugou counts to 10 in his head like his therapist told him to and heads to the stove with his bag of chocolate. As he starts searching for a pan in the cupboard, he thinks to himself that maybe his therapist is working with his classmates. Telling them to put Bakugou to test or something. Because that sounds like something that hag would do and these assholes really have been testing Bakugou’s limits.

“Wait, wait, wait, what are you doing?” Sero asks.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m melting the chocolate.”

“It looks like you’re about to fry that chocolate bar by putting it directly into the pan.”

Bakugou stays there, holding a frying pan in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other. The question hangs in the air and it seems like no one dares to say the words out loud until Kaminari asks:

“Isn’t that how you melt the chocolate?”

“No!” Ashido frowns. “That’s how you burn chocolate. But… But Bakugou knew that, right?”

Silence.

“Oh my God.” Sero starts grinning. “Oh my God. Bakugou. Could it be… The reason you didn’t want to make chocolate for Kirishima… Was it because you can’t bake?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kaminari says. “Bakugou can do anything in the kitchen.”

Silence stretches again. The three dumbasses gape at Bakugou, who refuses to look up at any of their idiotic faces. Ashido lets out a small huff. Bakugou explodes (but not literally, for once.)

“BAKING IS FUCKING USELESS!”

“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE!”

“So you need our help in the end!” Sero says with delight. “Bakugou, how? You’re one of the best cooks I know, how is that you can’t bake?”

“I don’t need to bake, all right? Desserts are fucking pointless, just eat enough real food!”

“That’s the most Bakugou thing I have ever heard,” Kaminari says. “And it makes me wonder what Kirishima sees in you.”

“It’s his butt,” Sero says.

“I never thought I’d say this, but enough about Bakugou’s butt,” Ashido intervenes. “Boys, don’t you see? This is an emergency! Tomorrow’s Valentine’s day and Bakugou is useless!”

“Hey, watch it!”

“We must work together to save Kirishima’s Valentine’s day!”

“LISTEN TO ME!”

No one listens to him. In a way, that is good because he really doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do and… well. Ashido, Sero and Kaminari seem as invested in Kirishima’s happiness as Bakugou is. He might actually cook each of them something later as a thank you.

You know, just because he hates owing people favors.

Sero and Ashido know how to melt the chocolate, but their baking experience is apparently limited to watching their mothers. In the end, the four of them end up around the kitchen island staring at a bowl of liquid chocolate without a clue of what to do with it.

“Now what?” Ashido asks.

“We… We could make a cake?” Kaminari suggests.

“With just chocolate? I don’t think we can make a cake with that.”

“We could asks Sato to help us,” Sero says.

“No,” Bakugou grabs the bowl and takes it with him to the counter.

“Blasty, this isn’t the time to let your pride get in the way,” Ashido starts, but Bakugou shuts her up with a single glare.

“You dumbasses don’t know shit any more than I do,” he says. “So I might as well deal with this alone. This is my Valentine’s gift to Kirishima, so I’m the one that should do it on my own.”

The three idiots stare at Bakugou in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Then they start smiling and Bakugou braces himself. They’re about to go all sentimental on him, tell him how much he’s grown and how proud they are. Ashido is going to call him son, Sero will apologize for teasing him and Kaminari will probably cry a little. Bakugou will hate every second of it, it will feel as though his face is burning, but he probably won’t explode them when Ashido inevitably drag them into a group hug.

Before any of that happens, however, Bakugou is saved.

“Oh my God, that was so manly ,” says Kirishima from the door.

“Kirishima, no!” Kaminari shouts, jumping in front of Bakugou as if to hide him from view. “It’s bad look to see the groom before the wedding!”

“We’re not helping Bakugou to surprise you, wherever you got that idea?!” Sero joins Kaminari.

“Who’s Bakugou?” Ashido yells. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for Bakugou,” Kirishima says.

Bakugou almost appreciates their absurd efforts and he would have laughed at their antics if he wasn’t so frustrated. He’d failed. He didn’t make the stupid chocolate, even after all of that drama and Kirishima found out about his pathetic attempt. He glares at his own feet, embarrassed and angry at himself.

He hears Kirishima crossing the kitchen towards him, but he refuses to look up until he hears Kirishima’s voice.

“ Babe ,” he says, his tone hoarse with emotion. “Blasty,  you were making me Valentine’s day chocolate?”

Bakugou avoids Kirishima’s eyes as he mumbles something impossible to understand.

“Bakugou, you hate chocolate,” Kirishima says. “And you hate Valentine’s day even more.”

Bakugou pouts. “But I love you.” (He ignores Ashido’s little screech.) “And you care about this dumb shit, so I thought… I thought I might give it a try. Or whatever.”

“Bakugou!” Kirishima half shouts, half cries and he grabs Bakugou’s face between his hands, squeezing his cheeks and making sure Bakugou can’t avoid his gaze anymore.

Bakugou is glad that he does. Because Kirishima’s eyes are sparkling like never before and his smile is so wide and beautiful it almost hurts to look at. Bakugou doesn’t want to stop seeing that expression ever again.

“Bakugou, I never expected you to make me chocolate,” Kirishima says, still squeezing his face. “I was going to ask you on a date instead, you bastard, I can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“A date?” Bakugou frowns, thinking of the restaurants downtown covered in pink hearts and cupid decorations with a little disgust.

“Yeah. I know you hate all this corny stuff, so I was going to ask you to go hiking? Remember that restaurant near the camp we went last year? I figured we could go there and have spicy meat curry instead of chocolate, because it’s our favorite foods combined. And then we could go hiking and make our own Valentine’s day and stuff. I can’t believe you were willing to go against your principles and make me chocolate!”

Kirishima wanted to go hiking. Bakugou’s cheeks are starting to hurt and he can’t form words properly with his entire face being squished like that. Still, he manages to say:

“I lohe ya’ sho much .”

Kirishima laughs out loud and leans in to kiss him. Bakugou hears their friends giggling on the background and he makes a dismissive gesture at them blindly before putting his hands to better use and pulling Kirishima closer. He’s too busy to check whether they actually leave after that.

There’s not a lot that Bakugou Katsuki wants or cares about. But three things are for sure: he wants to keep making Kirishima smile. And he cares about the idiots that are his classmates. And, last but not least, he’s on the correct path to become the best hero (and boyfriend) that ever existed.

In the end, he’s still learning. For example, he’s learned that he shouldn’t underestimate chocolate. If this is what he gets with a bowl of soggy chocolate, imagine next year after he finally masters his chocolate baking skills.

[eponymous-rose]

Fic: Cold Comfort (Velora, Vex, Percy)

[AO3 | FFN | More Fic]

Major spoilers for Episode 115.

Two years after the battle with Vecna, Velora returns to Whitestone for several long-overdue conversations.

Cold Comfort

Velora stops at the shrine to the Raven Queen first, padding cautiously into the room, the stonework ice-cold beneath her bare feet, and says, softly, experimentally, "I hate you."

The shrine is empty at this early-evening hour, and so her words echo louder and more certain than she means them to. She swallows shyness with the remembered taste of ashes on her tongue, pushes past the heavy stench of blood in her nose and mouth, and says it louder, her voice cracking on the shout. "I hate you!"

There are no ripples on the surface of the small pool of blood, no dramatic flurry of feathers or dark wings curling around her. It's just a cold, stinky room.

She clears her throat, rubs her face to stop her lower lip quivering, and says, "Thank you," before turning on her heel and starting the long, slow trudge up to the castle.

She finds Percy first, after waving her way past the bemused guards and wandering aimlessly through a series of empty doorways. He's in his workshop, shirtsleeves pulled up past his elbows, weird hairy human arms covered in some sort of black grease as he scrubs with a cloth at an oversized contraption made of cogged wheels.

She watches him from the doorway, her brother by marriage, and not for the first time, her eyes catch on the rounded tips of his ears, the lenses that imperfectly correct his imperfect vision, the scruff on his chin and above his upper lip. These things, she knows, are the parts of her brother and sister that made them different and hated and neglected, the parts that made them not quite her brother and sister. Back when he'd been so terribly lost and sad, that had made a lot more sense. Now, watching him smile as he works, humming a quiet song she recognizes as a Syngornian lullaby she'd taught her sister, something twists in her chest.

When he sees her, he nearly drops the cloth in his hand in his surprise, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. "Velora?"

She watches the expressions shift on his face: uncertainty, a self-conscious warmth, just plain self-consciousness, like he's trying to decide who to call to come deal with this situation. Then he visibly resets his stance, takes a breath, and smiles the kind of smile grown-ups rarely give her: honest, unsure, out of his depth. "Hi, Percy," she says, and leaps at him for a hug.

"You've gotten so big," he says, a little breathlessly. He's holding his hands awkwardly to the sides, trying to avoid smudging her fine clothing, but he finally relents and smooths her hair down when she beams up at him. "Not that it isn't a delight to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Came to visit. Father and I were in Zephrah, and Keyleth opened the Sun Tree for me. It's a two-way thing, did you know that? She's opening it up again tomorrow, an hour after dawn."

Percy's brow furrows, and he takes a step back, looking her up and down. "You're not wearing shoes. Did anybody come with you?"

"Shoes are the worst," Velora tells him. "D'you know where Vex is?"

He narrows his eyes at the obvious distraction, but when she pulls him by the hand, he sighs and trails after her. "I expect she's fletching arrows in the study. What brought you to Zephrah?"

Velora hesitates at a cross-corridor, revisiting her memories of the castle, and can't quite stifle a grin when Percy would-be casually swings his hand toward the right corridor. Pulling him along with her, she says, "Father was there on some sort of diplomatic mission, and I asked if I could come along and see Keyleth."

"A diplomatic mission to Zephrah seems unusual," Percy says, thoughtfully, and she winces. He really is too smart.

Fortunately, that's when they round the corner and walk straight into her sister.

Velora yelps and flings herself into Vex's arms, dragging Percy with her into an awkward three-person hug that it takes Vex a full five seconds to settle into, out of sheer surprise. When she does, she says, "Hello, darling," in a wonderfully teary-eyed voice and plants a kiss on the crown of Velora's head—no longer as easy a task as it was when she was littler—and for just a moment everything in the world is wonderful and warm.

"I'll catch you two up later," Percy says, softly, disentangling himself from the hug. "Things were coming to a head with the clockwork mechanism, and I'd like to finish it off before taking a day to relax."

"Only one day?" Velora, cheek pressed against her shoulder, feels the shiver of her sister's barely suppressed laughter.

"A day or two," Percy says. "Three. A week. I'll take a week." And then, with an air of panic, "She's not wearing shoes, you know."

Velora backs up to yell, "Traitor!" at his retreating form, but finds herself bearing the full brunt of an appraising look from her sister.

Vex looks different, after Vecna, after Vasselheim, after... She looks different. Her smiles are a little slower to come, her laughter a little warmer, the lines at her eyes more pronounced than even her half-human side could explain. And sometimes, when she looks at Velora, she has a terribly sad smile that wrinkles the skin between her brows, and that smile didn't belong to her, before.

"Where in all the hells did you put your shoes, dear?"

Velora grins. Last year, when he and Zahra had come to visit Syngorn for the first time, Kashaw had called her a little shit for that exact grin. It's now her favorite grin to practice at every possible opportunity. "Zephrah."

Vex can't pick Velora up and carry her anymore—well, she probably could if she wanted to make a pretty hilarious display out of it—but the arm around her shoulders is vise-like as she draws her back into the study. "And what," Vex says, the same laughter still in her voice, "were you doing in Zephrah?"

Shrugging free, Velora settles into an overstuffed chair, bringing her knees up to her chest and pressing her dirty toes into the fabric. "Dad wanted to see the tree. The one Keyleth planted for Vax."

Vex falls more than sits in the chair across from her. "Oh."

Velora doesn't really want to look up, picking instead at some of the dirt caked under her toenail. "Yeah, I guess he'd sort of been avoiding it. It's real pretty, though. And he just kind of asked to be alone for a bit, I guess, you know. Talking to it. So I asked Keyleth if she could open the Sun Tree for me to come up here for the night."

"Velora. Dear." There's a long pause after the words, and Velora falls right into the trap, glancing up and meeting Vex's direct stare. "You shouldn't have come through alone. You walked up from the Sun Tree on your own?"

Probably best not to mention the detour to the Raven Queen's shrine. "No. I mean, yes, but I've done that kind of thing before. It's okay. The guards know me by now."

Vex's face crumples into a tearful smile. "Gods, you're not all that much younger than Vax and I were when we—" She swipes a hand across her eyes, then smiles bigger, brighter. "I'm sorry, darling. It's been a strange day. I'm delighted to see you, although I may have to have a word with Kiki about the age-appropriateness of sending a child to another city alone. And your hair is so short!"

Velora reaches up to it, shyly, tousling the locks that barely cover the tips of her ears. "You like it?"

"I love it."

Velora grins her little-shit grin. "Father hates it."

Vex laughs, leaning back in her chair. "Then I positively adore it."

Velora straightens, shuffles to the edge of her seat, lets her legs swing down to rest on the ground. "How are you?"

That catches Vex by surprise, and she pauses midway through what looks like a reflexive laugh. Grown-ups do that a lot, Velora has found, when she asks a question like an adult. But after the brief hesitation, Vex smiles and says, "Better every day, sweetheart. Thank you for asking. How are you?"

Velora chews her lower lip, staring down, wringing her hands in her lap. "I dream a lot. And it's never the parts of it I want to dream about, the nice people cheering, the nice people at the Platinum Sanctuary. Vax. It's... it's green light, and... and nobody says it, everybody tries really hard not to say it, but I died, didn't I?"

Silence; Velora can almost hear the lies being shuffled through, carefully selected and discarded, one by one. Then Vex says, "You did. I did, too. A while ago. We never told you the details. Our brother made a deal for my life. Kashaw raised me then, too, only I think the Raven Queen interfered before Vesh could get involved the way she did with you."

Velora meets her gaze again, steady and unflinching. "I think I've been dreaming about Vesh. I tried to tell Kashaw last time I saw him. He just sort of got scared. But I dream about her a lot."

The words hang in the air for a long, long moment until she fears the weight of them will crush them both.

Then, "Gods. Fuck," Vex says, and the first word somehow feels like a stronger curse than the second. She pushes up from her chair, paces up and down the room, breathing fast, like something caged.

Startled, Velora hops to her feet. "What is it? Is it bad? What does it mean?"

Vex whirls around, and there's a truly stricken expression on her face that's so, so much worse than the soft murmurs of death and pain and horror that find her at night. The tears begin to streak down Velora's cheeks before she's even aware she's started crying, and Vex seems to snap back to herself in that moment, face closing off into a concerned half-smile, pulling Velora into a tight hug, pressing her face to her shoulder the way she had in Vasselheim, the way she had after the fight, and Velora remembers the taste of ashes.

"It's all right, darling. I'm sorry I scared you. Nightmares are normal after what you've been through. I'll talk to your mother about clerics in Syngorn, all right? We'll find someone to help you, to talk to you."

Velora inhales, shakily, the faint perfumes barely masking the scent of forest and sweat, and says, "I'm sorry I made you sad again."

"Never, darling. Never." Vex lifts her off her feet for a moment, twirls her in a little half-spin. "I'm so glad you told me. I'm just sorry you were suffering alone."

They stay like that for a long, long time, until Velora starts to get self-conscious about how much snot she's getting on her sister's fine robes and pulls back a bit. Vex responds by bending down so they're eye-to-eye, the way Vax always used to, and brushes the tears away. "I love you, dear. You're not alone, and you're welcome here anytime." A wink. "We'll just have to figure out a way to get you here more often so you don't have to take advantage of a certain well-meaning but distracted archdruid to sneak away."

"Okay," Velora says, and when Vex sits back in her chair, she cuddles up next to her, a bit too tall and lanky now to make it comfortable, but they both pretend to ignore the discomforts of bony elbows and knees. "Did you dream? After you died, I mean."

"Not that time. But there was another time I was hurt very badly." Unexpectedly, Vex smiles, settling a hand comfortably in Velora's hair and staring at the opposite wall of the room with a warmth of memory. "I was flying above the battlefield and a spell brought me down. I was so sure when I finally went to sleep that I'd dream of falling and falling and falling, but it turned out the only thing my brain cared to remember when I was asleep was the flying part."

Velora laughs. "That's really wonderful, in a weird sort of way."

"I'm a little alarmed that you're grasping the idea of backhanded compliments so young. Feeling better?"

Velora doesn't answer right away, considering. "Yeah. I think I am. Just tired."

Another crooked smile, not quite hers. "I know. And dear? What do you think about nieces and nephews?"

Velora takes a time to consider that one as well. "I think Trinket will always be my favorite."

Vex laughs, low and warm and genuine. "He'll be delighted to hear that. Your room's all made up and ready, you know. It always is. We can talk in the morning, which is when I assume you've scammed Keyleth into smuggling you back?"

Velora, disentangling herself from the chair, manages to stay stone-faced for about two heartbeats before she bursts out laughing. "Yeah. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Tousling her hair, Vex grins. "Sleep well."

Late in the night, when the moon hangs high and she grows tired of waiting for her racing thoughts to slow, Velora begrudgingly slips on her borrowed boots and a heavy coat and treads softly out the door of her room into the corridors of the castle.

She knows how to carry herself to look a little bit older from a distance so a guard won't stop her on sight, knows how to keep to the shadows that human vision cannot penetrate. It's easy enough to slip past the outward-facing defenses of the castle and into the cold night air, watching her breath fog before her, the heat from the city below hanging in masses of fog like smoke in the air. She doesn't like looking down at the city from here, remembers with nightmarish precision how Vasselheim had looked from above, burning and burning and with the taste of her own death at the back of her tongue.

Veering away, she steps almost immediately off the well-trodden paths into snow that cracks and sinks under her weight, slowing her progress like wading through a world coated in heavy blankets that tug at her feet and legs, urging her to stop and rest.

She's breathing heavily by the time she finds the small clearing, eyes already welling up at the possibility that she's misremembered the path, that she's managed to get lost, that she'll wander forever alone in the dark. She's come out here twice before, alone both times, after Vex had shown her the spot, but there are plenty of twists and turns to trip up a distracted mind...

She finds it all the same: two trees with slightly more gnarled branches than most, and a single bench, lovingly but imperfectly constructed beneath it.

Swiping at her streaming nose and the tears in her eyes, she huffs out a breath and plops down into the middle of the bench, staring up through the gaps in the branches above at the uncommonly clear night sky. A low grunt of breath draws her attention.

"Hi," she says, softly.

Two bright eyes between the tree trunks shift closer, obscured by the fog of breath in the air, and then sleek, silvery fur glints under the moonlight as the wolf pads up to sit beside the bench and rest his head on her lap.

She scratches behind his ears, distractedly, already back to watching the stars. "You remember me, don't you? I didn't think you'd be here still. I didn't think there were wolves in these woods. The grown-ups never mentioned you. Maybe I'm imagining you."

The wolf grumbles, nosing into her hand, and she sighs, stroking his muzzle, pausing only to pick at some of the dirt and twigs caked into his fur. "Father says I can't have a pet, which means I desperately want to bring you home with me, but that's probably not fair to you."

The wolf sighs. She sighs back. It's cold outside, but between the warm coat and the wolf's heavy weight, she feels positively cosy.

A light streaks across the sky, a shooting star, and she smiles up at it. "I didn't even know I had a brother for a long time," she says. "I wanted brothers and sisters when I was little, so badly, and then there were these two tall angry grown-ups who sometimes yelled at Father but always smiled at me."

She pauses in scratching the wolf's head, just to hear his semi-inquisitive grunt, before starting again. "And now I've got Percy and Cassandra and Keyleth and Scanlan and Pike and Grog, and they're my brothers and sisters, too. And I guess maybe I thought that was how it worked, that you just kept getting more and more and more family and none of them ever went away for good."

She reaches down, pulls the belt from around her waist, and tells the wolf, sternly, "Be nice to Simon. He's very shy."

The snake twists to life, coils around her arm, clinging almost painfully to her, and she whispers, "Sorry about the cold," and lets him coil up inside her coat to keep warm.

She waits a moment or two, but the wolf doesn't seem interested in having a snake for dinner, and eventually she relaxes again. "Father talks to Vax, sometimes. At the tree. Other times. But I don't think I want to do that. I don't think I want to talk to him unless he can talk to me, too. Unless I can see him."

She closes her eyes and holds her breath for several heartbeats, fooling herself into listening for a whisper of wings, gripping so tightly to the fur on the top of the wolf's head that he whines a soft protest.

"Sorry," she whispers, opening her eyes and petting the spot she'd pulled. "Sorry." She glances up at a glint of light; another shooting star, she thinks, or just the regular stars smearing a bit with tears.

"Anyway," she says, "I'm going to head back to the castle and maybe see if I can try to dream about flying, but for a little bit, would it be okay if I talked to you instead? If I told you all the things I wanted to tell him?"

The wolf glances up at her with one baleful eye, snorts, then backs away, plopping down in the snow and regarding her with an eerily intelligent expression.

Velora draws her knees up to her chest, curling protectively around Simon, and says, softly, "I miss you," and watches the stars, and says nothing more.

[mangled-dreams]

Presents

Presents.

Anti x Reader for the lovely @dasistmeinekinder. This one is a two part story. The second part will be posted here shortly. I hope you enjoy the story. 

PART TWO (coming soon).

“Anti, for the love of everything holy, please step away from the tree and sit down on the couch. I just need to finish my eye shadow and we can go over to Sean’s for dinner.” You promise seeing Anti in the reflection of your mirror step back from the brightly decorated Christmas tree.

You have a very special Christmas gift since it’s your first Christmas as a married couple. You’ve celebrated a few Christmases together but this one is even more special. This year you have a big surprise for him.

“Are you done?” Anti asks looking at the small rectangular box perched on a cluster of braches that’s grown close together. You knew it’d been the perfect tree when you saw the slight imperfections. It reminds you of you and Anti. You don’t need to be perfect to everyone, simply perfect for each other.

You watch Anti pace back and forth, staring at the gift like it's the answer to all questions in the universe. You roll your eyes at him and go back to your make up. It's almost comical, watching Anti fight with himself over a small box. You chuckle, telling him, "You can wait another 24 hours for your present."

You barely hear Anti mutter, "I hate waiting," nearly out of your hearing range.

You smile at your reflection and set down your brush. “Yes, Anti, I’m done.”

“Great! Let’s get this bad idea over with!” Anti says. He’s been against seeing his…other half for weeks now, well…longer actually. It’s not that Anti and Sean don’t get along. It’s like a sibling rivalry that just never changes.

“Awe,” you coo smiling up at Anti. He glares down at you but still wraps an arm around your waist, escorting you out the front door. You note he doesn’t head towards your car and your stomach drops a little. “Anti, we’re no—t…” Anti doesn’t let your finish as he teleports you both to Sean’s rental house. You cover your mouth, fighting the urge to throw up when your feet hit solid ground. You don’t win.

Doubling over you throw up on the grass, coughing a little when you’re stomach finally settles. Anti watches you with curiosity. You’ve never thrown up before.

“Are you okay?” he asks holding on to you by your elbow as you sway a little.

You nod your head. “Yeah, I must have ate something weird.” You say taking a napkin from your bag and dab at the corners of your mouth. You can see Anti doesn’t fully believe you, but it’s not like you to lie about such things. You smile at him, trying to reassure him.

Normally you can handle his teleporting, but after trying your Aunt Tulip's homemade peanut brittle, your stomach has been having issues. You honestly wonder what the hell she put into it, but mainly your worry is your hair. It rarely likes to do what you want and ruining it while teleporting is not your idea of a good time.

Sean answers the door within seconds of you knocking and ushers you both in. You give Sean a hug telling him it’s good to see each other again before walking into the open living room. You see a few familiar faces and wave or say hello.

You leave Anti to talk with Sean, walking over to Chase. “Hey CB. How goes it?” You ask smiling at Chase. You already know Chase isn't doing well. His ex-wife has been completely unreasonable with custody of their kids, especially around Christmas. You've been helping him fight back with the legal system. Your step father, William, just so happens to have a law firm and specializes in custody battles.

You see the sadness in his eyes and your smile changes just a little. "Stacy still won't let me see the kids." Chase says looking away to the window. He wants nothing more than to see his kids again, and since he's join forces with Sean, he no longer has to worry about making ends meat for his family.

"Oh, CB, it'll get better! Dad says he has great news for you!" You tell Chase watching a little light come back to his face.

"Really?" Chase asks. You nod your head, retrieving your phone from your small clutch and leaf through your text messages.

"Oh, hey, he wants to know if he can stop by for a few minutes!" You say feeling a little giddy over the message from your dad.

"What? Yeah! Totally, if it's good news tell 'im to come on over!" Chase cheers, more life beginning to filter into his soul. You smile, nod your head, and respond with the address to your Dad.

Dr. Schneeplestein saunters over, already a little tipsy from whatever alcohol Sean usually has hanging somewhere around his house or rental. You roll your eyes. The good doctor is quite pleasant, when sober. Once he starts drinking he become quite the asshole.

One you avoid like the plague.

"Dad said he'd be over in about twenty minutes." You tell Chase as Dr. Schneeplestein stops just short of your uncomfortable zone. "Doctor." you greet in a flat tone.

"Oh, Anti's little pet, how are you to-zay?" Dr. Schneeplestein says looking you over with some amount of disinterest. You glare at him.

Your really don't like the doctor, and--thankfully--neither does Anti. They're civil with each other, but there is not a whole long of caring. "Oh, starting that again, huh?" You ask looking from Dr. Schneeplestein with a quick eye roll.

"What should I call you?" he challenges.

"His wife, or ya know, my name?" you respond quickly, well snap at him. For whatever reason, when he has alcohol in his system, you find it easier to understand him.

Before the good doctor can respond to you Anti steals you away, he'd seen the tension rising and came to assist you. As much as he enjoys a good spat match, he doesn't want anything to happen to you. "Having a pleasant conversation?" he asks already knowing you weren't.

"Of course not, but I do love you came to rescue me." You say twisting in Anti's arms and wrap your own around his neck. You smile lovingly up at Anti. "Are you having at least a little bit of fun?" you ask.

"It's not that worse." he tells you.

You chuckle, standing on your tip toes to place a kiss against his lips. Anti holds you a little tighter.

It's almost a half hour before your dad texts you again, but it's what you've been waiting for. Leaving the small group of faces you enjoy to see you go to the door and open it, beaming at your dad. "I love you so much for this, Dad!" You say wanting to shout and cheery, but you can't.

"Is our dad here?" Delilah asks looking at you. You smile big at her.

"Yes, he doesn't know you're here, so....shhh." you say smiling at them. Their faces seems to liven up, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dad, CB is in the lounge with Anti, can you go distract him a little?" you ask taking Chase Jr. and Delilah's hands. You know this will completely change Chase's holiday.

"Yes, I'll let him know I got him Christmas with the kids." your dad says heading to the lounge at your direction. You giggle, whispering a plan to the two near identical copies of Chase. "Your daddy is going to be so excited to see you." you add giggling with the pair.

"What? Really?" Chase nearly shouts his hands knocking his trademark hat off his head in his amazement of the news. "I get to see my kids? Really?" Chase asks starting to cry a little. It's been months since his last visit with the twins.

"Yes, to celebrate this change I've brought over a gift." You hear your dad say.

Nodding to the twins they run from around the corner shouting for their father. You have your phone recording as Chase drops to his knees, embracing his children against his chest. All around various voices are cheering, congratulating him, a few crying as Chase holds onto his babies, kissing them, telling them he loves and misses them.

Your won eyes mist up at the sight. You record for a few extra seconds before turning it off and putting it away. You walk away from the lounge to find your purse again, a little surprised to see Anti perched on the couch armrest, looking directly at you.

"Anti, what are you doing in here?" You ask picking up your purse and put your phone away. You notice a small ribbon next to Anti's leg and reach out to touch it realizing it's the ribbon you'd put on your present to Anti. Your head snaps up the question burning in your mind dying on your lips. Anti's holding the box in his hands.

Your cheeks burn as Anti holds the mysterious present in his hands. You look away from him. "Why couldn't you wait until tomorrow?" You ash shyly.

Anti smirks. "Because I knew this was something good." he responds holding up the coupon book your friend had talked you into buying.

"You heard me talking with Abigail!" you accuse watching Anti's smile widen. You smack his arm, nearly knocking the box from his hand.

Anti laughs, stands up, and traps you against his chest. "How about you and I head home, I have a few coupons I want to redeem with you." Anti says in a tone you can't deny. Your face burns but you can't deny Anti when he looks at you like this.

"I need to say good bye to my dad." you tell him weakly. Anti chuckles. He loves your dedication to your family.

"Will! Sean, everyone else I don't care about, we're leaving!" Anti shouts before taking you home moments later. The others are left dumbfounded by your sudden departure, but it's not a surprise. Anti can only handle being around everyone for so long.

Anti tosses you on the bed, your dress in tatters on the floor. His shirt is hanging open, neck tie loose around his neck. You smile as he leans over your, your hand loosely holding on to his neck tie. "Which ticket are you redeeming?" You ask in a surly tone.

Anti smirks, holding up a bright green coupon. "This one of course." he tells you. You smile, take the coupon and tear it in half.

"Alright, redeem your coupon."

[merlevum]

Hetalia Fanfiction - A Fairy Promise

Summary: When Alfred has to say good-bye to a very special friend.

For outside links please click here. There will be links to AO3 and FF.net. 

"Alfred honey, I know you don't want to leave this place after just making friends, but you know we have no choice because of your father's job," a short plump woman said with honey blonde hair, which curled towards the end when it reached her shoulders.

"I'm fine mom. Really," a dejected Alfred said as he kept his gaze at the suitcase he was packing, rather than looking at his mother.

He really had no qualms with leaving England after living here for only a year. Not to mention when they returned, he could finally show his younger brother all the cool things America had to offer instead of the sometimes boring England. It was just, that he would miss the friends he made here, especially one in particular, who he could not just write a letter to or anything of the sort. In fact, he still had to tell his friend he would not be returning tonight, which was why the usually ecstatic grinning boy, had his brows knitted and a look of utter dejection on his face.

"Alright. I'm going to check on Mattie. You almost ready for bed?" his mother asked patting his back in small soothing circles. It was something she had always done when Alfred was upset, and he greatly appreciated his mother for doing so.

"Yeah, almost. You gonna read a story tonight?" he asked, looking up at his mother with expectant ocean blue eyes.

"Not tonight," his mother said with a small grin and shake of her head. "I'll be telling you one that my Gram used to tell me."

The boy stared at her wide eyed for a moment before shouting in joy at the prospect of hearing a new story. It had been the same stories for the past few nights, and Alfred was honestly tired of it. Now he would have to make sure to hurry and get done for bedtime. But he knew he had to keep out a set of clothes for later since he would have to out into the woods. He just hoped he could do so without alerting his mother; the last time he went, he almost got caught .

"I'll go and get ready. What kinda story is it tonight?" Alfred asked as he gathered up the clothes he would be sleeping in.

"A story about a knight and a dragon," his mother replied, walking behind him. Once they left his room, she went to talk to her other son, Matthew, while Alfred went into the bathroom.

Alfred made sure to change into his sleeping suit before he brushed through his hair once, and then brushed his teeth. It was the normal routine for him since he fought with his cowlick constantly. He learned that if he brushed his hair before going to bed the night before it usually tended to not be as bad. Once he was satisfied, he back to his mother, who was helping Matthew with a few small items to pack.

"Matthew, I know you want to take your polar bear with you, but you'll have to pack it tomorrow in your bag before the flight. Once the plane is high enough, I'll get him out for you. Okay?" his mother explained as Matthew only nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. "Alright then. Go get ready for bed and meet me in Alfred's room."

Again, Matthew nodded before taking his polar bear into the bathroom with him. Alfred only watched the transaction since he knew better than to get in between Matthew and their parents. Since Alfred could remember, Matthew never really spoke up about anything and hid behind the polar bear he had gotten from one of their relatives. Ever since he got the bear, it never left his side besides to get washed. It was one of the main reasons why Matthew got teased in school as well, but Alfred made sure to stick up for him.

It was their parents wish though that Alfred not always fight Matthew's battles since Matthew needed to find his own voice. Yet the smaller of the two boys just never said anything unless he had to. Even in class, when he is called upon, he just mumbles into the fur of the bear. After half a semester, they stopped calling on Matthew. It got to the point where people literally forgot he even existed, which was not something their parents wanted to hear. Now Matthew was being forced out of his comfort zone. Alfred hated not being able to come to his brother's aid, but if his parents deemed it so, there was nothing he could do.

"You all set?" their mother said, when Alfred only stood there quietly.

"Yeah, all set," Alfred grinned at his mother before going to his room. "We gotta wait for Mattie first."

"Yes, I know. I told him to meet us in your room," his mother assured him as Alfred climbed into bed and she tucked him in. "Good?"

"Yup!" Alfred said knowing he had to scoot over since Matthew still needed room for when he came.

The two had shared a bed since the two could remember. Most people confused the two boys for twins, but really Alfred was older by a year. Not to mention, Matthew was born in Canada on one of their trips to family up there. He considered himself to be Canadian, which they never really corrected since everyone thought it was cute. Alfred teased Matthew about this constantly by telling him America was so much better. The two would fight a bit, but after a few minutes, the two would be the best of friends once again. The two were nothing alike, except they both ate food as if they were constantly starving. Alfred would more than occasionally see Matthew sneak into the kitchen in order to get something to eat before dinner or shortly after it. Of course, Matthew never told on Alfred when he went to sneak food out either. At times, the two even stole food together.

"Oh, Matthew. You all finished?" his mother asked as Matthew was suddenly in the doorway and moved towards the bed. He nodded at his mother before crawling in with Alfred, knowing that his brother had made room for him. "Did you both brush your teeth?"

Both boys nodded in response. Matthew cuddled his polar bear safely as his mother tucked him in.

"Very well done. Now, who's ready for a story about a knight and a dragon?" their mother asked as Matthew nodded and Alfred gave an excited shout. "Here goes. Once upon a time..."

It always started that way. The tradition of any fairy tale, and Alfred had never forgotten that, even when he grew older. But it was the belief in magic and the fae, which he had grown out of in the coming years. For now though, Alfred enjoyed the story of the knight who befriended a dragon who was not all that scary after all. It was a different story from most of the ones their mother had told the boys since she had started telling those tales, but it was nice. Especially since the two would end up having to make new friends once they moved back to the United States after living in England for a year.

Once the story was done, she tucked them in one last time before turning off the night, leaving only the night light on for the two. Matthew was a heavy sleeper, and so when he was finally snoring, Alfred made his escape, putting on the clothes he had kept out for the trip. After he was dressed, he crept down the stairs and past his parents' bedroom.

This was always the hard part, since his mother had what he liked to call a sixth sense for when he was going to get himself into trouble. Normally she would come to rescue and he would never understand how she knew where he was on more than one occasion. Thankfully though, when he went out to meet his friend, he was lucky enough to have avoided such encounters with her. But still he crept past the door trying desperately to not make a sound. When he was past the door it was home free all the way to the kitchen door.

Cracking it open slightly, he called out into the night. The two had decided that before Alfred came out into the night, he would call and his friend would come to escort him into the forest. Neither wanted the golden haired boy to be spirited away just because he was trying to meet with his friend. Within a few seconds of calling out into the dark, small light flitted across the backyard toward him. Instantly, Alfred knew it was him. The slight green glow to the light only confirmed his suspicions.

"Arthur!" Alfred said rather excited to see the small fairy as he made his way towards the boy.

"Hush, or do you want your mum to hear you?" Arthur said with a smile and a tone where he was not necessarily scolding Alfred, but rather teasing him.

Arthur looked to be in his early teen years, but on a much smaller scale. With messy wheat blonde hair, the green eyed fairy, could have blended in almost perfectly with the rest of the word, except for the strange wings that filled his back. They started at his shoulder bone and fanned out into four sections. They were not like the usual image of fairy wings, but Arthur had explained the wings most people believe fairies to have were actually the wings that belonged to the pixie, which he clearly was not. Alfred learned rather quickly that to call a fairy such as Arthur a pixie was a great insult, resulting in getting his ear cuffed or the one strand of hair that like to stick up, pulled on.

"Sorry. Listen I really need to talk to you about something important!" Alfred watched as the small fairy's rather large and thick eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but nodded all the same.

"To the fairy circle then," Arthur said with a nod of his head. His voice soft in Alfred's ear as the fairy flew up to it and spoke, knowing humans could not hear as well as most creatures.

Normally a fairy circle would not be considered a place a human would be safe, but honestly, Arthur used it as a place to make sure Alfred stayed safe from the more dangerous creatures who roamed the woods besides the usual fairies. Thanks to Alfred's cheerful disposition, he had befriended many of the fairies who called that circle their home and so was able to use it when he needed to without having to fear the wrath the fairies. In fact, on more than one occasion, the fairies had protected Alfred and Matthew from some of the more powerful creatures who still decided they needed to hunt down humans. So when Arthur said they were going to go to the circle, Alfred knew Arthur would listen to anything he said.

Arthur quickly led Alfred through the backyard and into the forest which surrounded a small part of his house. The forest was the first place Alfred and Arthur had met. And it had quickly become their playground unless it was at night. The only times they met so late was if Alfred had something important to discuss with the fairy, who he just needed some to give him advice when he couldn't tell his parents. To Alfred, Arthur became a big brother figure, something his parents could never replace. It took another ten minutes for Alfred and Arthur to make their way through the forest and to the fairy circle. Arthur magicked a light for Alfred, lest he fall on the roots or other plants. Although normally Alfred told Arthur he was old enough not to need help, Alfred was oddly silent tonight.

The circle was rather large compared to most of the fairy circles people were warned to stay away from, but when Arthur explained how old the fairy circle was, Alfred only sat there in awe. It was composed of different sized rocks, which were moved every year if needed be, considering it seemed the fairies in this particular area had grown slightly over the years. After a few minutes, to allow Alfred to settle down in the grass, Arthur flew to his shoulder and stood there, waiting for the other to start saying whatever was needed.

"I know we've been friends, but I'm going away," Alfred said rather bluntly, knowing that it was the only way to get out what he wanted to say. "I don't want to leave, well, I mean I do. But I don't want to leave you! You're my best friend!"

Alfred allowed the fairy a few moments to let the new information sink in before watching him set off into the air. He could see the hurt in the other's eyes as he sat there. Tears threatening to overflow in the Alfred's face. Within seconds, Alfred felt small hands begin pat his check before going back to Alfred's shoulder.

"It's alright lad. I understand. Why not make a promise with me? Let's promise to always remember one another and perhaps if the world allows for it, meet again?" Arthur suggested, hoping to make the boy feel better.

Sniffling, Alfred only nodded before stopping in mid-nod. "But mom said not to make deals with fairies."

"Yes, you don't want to make a deal. But a promise is different. A deal is something along the lines of you getting a sort of gift, if you will, from me and I get something in exchange. Here we just promise to remember and not forget our friendship. I would never lead you astray," Arthur explained before he flew back towards Alfred's face. He held out a tiny slender hand to the boy, who looked even more on the verge of tears.

Alfred then nodded and placed one of his fingers into the fairy's hand before breaking down into sobs, which raked through his body. The fairy then spent near an hour comforting the poor boy and telling him all the wonderful fun the other would have in his new home. When Alfred was finished wiping the tears from his eyes, Arthur took the boy back to his home safely before saying one final good bye and good night. He never forgot the dark blonde haired, ocean blue eyed, boy who played with him. But the same could not be said for the boy.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

You’re My Best Girl (Requested)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2656 //  Rating: Gen

Warnings: none, fluff

Summary:  Bucky’s about to head off to war, he wants to make his last night count.

Note: This was requested but without a pairing, opted for Bucky Barnes because it seemed to fit best with the quotes.

I’m another Anon who doesn’t have a Tumblr account. I hope it’s ok to request through the submit? Anyway, I don’t know how this works but I would love to see you write #39. I don’t know if you want to combine so I’ll send another submit for the other. Thank you!!!!!! #44 please :) 

39: “ I wish we could stay like this forever. ” 

44: “ I’m going to keep you safe. ” 

After a long day at the office, you were weary so you walked slowly through the streets, with home seemingly further away with every step. It’s not that your job was a manual one, it’s just that the hours were long, so even sitting at a desk all day made you tired. It was worth it though, as a young girl in 1940s Brooklyn the possibilities were limited so when you applied for a secretarial post and got it you were overjoyed. Your parents had been so proud too. Finally, you reached the block where your apartment resided. It was early evening, and you were likely to be the first one home with your father being at work and your mother usually out running errands. Climbing up the steps you walked across the outside terrace where your apartments lined up in a row. Knocking on Steve’s door you heard no movement, so assuming it was empty you moved to your door and slotted the key in the lock.

‘Hey,’ said a deep voice from behind you causing you to turn around in fright. ‘James Buchanan Barnes! Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a girl?’ you chastised but Bucky merely smirked. He was dressed in his army uniform, a sight that made your stomach churn. Bucky was one of your best friends with Steve Rogers being the other. You had grown up with Steve, his mother often had to work and so he had been left in your mother’s care almost every day which formed the deepest bond. Steve was like your brother, to be honest, you liked him more than your actual brother, and always looked out for you. Though over the years you’d probably rescued him more times than he’d done for you. He was the reason you met Bucky. During your early teens, Steve had chosen to pick a fight with a rather large gang of boys who’d been harassing you. Noble though the act was it was utterly stupid and Steve had found himself, as usual, being beaten to a pulp. Luckily Bucky had stepped in and saved Steve and since then the three of you had been closer than ever. But Bucky wasn’t like your brother the way Steve was. He couldn’t be, your feelings towards Bucky weren’t at all familial. You were in love with him.

‘Sorry, doll. You just finish work?’ he asked and you nodded, your formal attire being an obvious giveaway, ‘Steve home?’

‘Doesn’t appear to be so, what’s with the get-up?’ you asked gesturing to his clothing although you already knew the answer.

‘Got my orders, 107th, Sergeant James Barnes at your service,’ he said watching as your face fell. ‘I erm- ship out to England tomorrow. I’m looking for Steve because there’s this expo thing I was gonna go. Y’know with it being my last night and all,’ he explained as you sighed, your heart weighing heavily in your chest as you watched the mixture of emotions on his face, you knew exactly what he was feeling. Pride was probably his strongest emotion as he was finally following in his father’s footsteps and fighting for his country. But you knew how guilty he was feeling too, especially once Steve found out. It seemed that Steve was going to be the only guy in New York to be left behind as his health and other ailments had stopped him short of his dream.

‘Congratulations, I’m proud of you,’ you said walking towards him so you could give him a hug. Standing on your tiptoes you leaned up wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his arms wrap around you. You turned your face away from him so he couldn’t see the tears that were now glistening in your eyes, threatening to brim over. He pulled back first looking down at your face.

‘I should find Steve; this expo thing starts at seven I don’t wanna...’ you nodded and allowed him to walk a small distance before he turned and looked back at you. ‘I mean you can tag along if you want to. I mean it’s my last night, I want to spend it with my best friends.’

You nodded but excused yourself so you could change and leave a note for your parents so they wouldn’t worry. Discarding your clothes, you changed into your favorite blue tea dress and added a hint of lipstick. As you locked up your apartment Bucky whistled, a thing he often did to tease you. You blushed deep crimson as always, the fear of him knowing your true feelings causing a flutter in your stomach. It didn’t take the two of you long to find Steve. You found him down an alley, taking on a man twice his size. Bucky instructed you to stay out of the way and went to intervene. Your heart soared as you watched the scene unfold but panic hit you as well. Who would help Steve with Bucky not around? You watched Bucky and Steve chat and

You watched Bucky and Steve chat and rough house until the two of them got to where you were waiting. ‘See how I saved the kids ass yet again, Y/N?’ Bucky teased and you chuckled, though stopped short at the stern look Steve gave you.

‘Just cause he’s a sergeant now he thinks he can give me crap. And anyway I’m not a kid, I’m older than both of you so you should show me some respect,’ Steve whined, to yours and Bucky’s laughter.

‘Yeah, well, adults don’t forge their enlistment forms, do they?’

‘Steve!’ you scolded but you were met with an eye roll. He really was incorrigible when it came to enlisting. This had to be the 4th time he’d faked his papers and it was only a matter of time before he got into big trouble.

‘It’s not a big deal Y/N, anyway don’t we have some place to be?’ he asked attempting to get you off topic.

The three of you reached the expo in good time. People milled around the booths that were present whilst your group looked around. Bucky was craning his neck around to look through the droves of people. ‘Look I don’t know what your problem is. You’re about to be the only guy left in New York with 1 million women, I thought you’d be happy.’

‘I’d settle for just one,’ Steve sighed.

‘Good thing I took care of that,’ Bucky said as he raised his hand to wave at two girls stood in the distance as Steve groaned, ‘What’ve you told her about me?’Bucky said nothing but just picked up the pace leaving you two in his wake as your face fell into a scowl. Of course, this was a date. What an idiot you were! He’d wanted to have a little bit of fun on his last night and he’d invited you out of pity. How embarrassing. Steve watched as your face grew sad, his eyes filling with compassion. Steve knew how you felt, as he did everything else about you. In fact, he’d encouraged you to tell Bucky how you felt but you had refused. He was a ladies man and the type of girl he went for wasn’t exactly like you.  You all made polite conversation. The girls seemed nice but

Steve knew how you felt, as he did everything else about you. In fact, he’d encouraged you to tell Bucky how you felt but you had refused. He was a ladies man and the type of girl he went for wasn’t exactly like you.  You all made polite conversation but even though the girls seemed nice you had no time for them like you did for all the other girls he’d dated. And your apprehension didn't go unnoticed. Over the course of the night, the group seemed to take a natural split. Steve tried to mingle but mostly spoke to you with Bucky entertaining the ladies.  

After the expo, you wandered the stalls for a while before Steve drifted to an army enlistment stall. You held back watching from a distance respectfully before you felt Bucky at your side.  ‘I’ll go,' he said, nudging your arm in an effort to cheer you up before he disappeared up ahead leaving you and the girls stood together in awkward silence.

Bucky found Steve pondering the enlistment, punching him on the arm he said, ‘Come on, you’re missing the point of a double date. We’re taking the girls dancing,’ but Steve dismissed him.

’You go ahead, I’ll catch up.’

‘You really gonna do this again?’ Bucky asked exasperatedly even though this argument was like a broken record. Bucky wished Steve could help in the war but he just couldn’t and he had to accept that. Bucky was half glad he couldn’t, a war was hard enough so the fewer people you had to worry about getting hurt the better. He heard the faint calls of the girls, who were becoming impatient waiting for him to reappear. He called back that he was on his way to them.

‘You should get back to your…dates,’ Steve said. Sighing he looked Steve who seemed to be resolute in not listening to him. He knew it was a lost battle and went to leave, ‘Make sure you don’t do anything stupid before I get back,’ Bucky warned but Steve rebutted.

‘How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,’ Bucky chuckled and came forward to embrace Steve.

‘You’re a punk,’ he said smiling, he would miss his best friend immensely.

‘Jerk,’ he said in Bucky’s ear, as Bucky walked away he shouted to him. ‘Buck, make your last night count? Tell her will ya,’ he said to Bucky’s annoyed face. Bucky rolled his eyes and then, smirking, he walked off to join the girls and Y/N where he’d left them waiting.

‘Ugh,’ Bucky’s date sighed, ‘What’s he doing? He promised we’d go dancing,’ she said to which her friend tittered in agreement. ‘He’s helping his friend,’ you said through gritted teeth.

‘What’s he helping him with? I mean it’s not as if he could actually join the army,’ she scoffed which enraged you but she continued, ‘He’s not exactly well-built like Bucky, is he?’

‘Steve Rogers is one of the best men I’ve ever met and just because he isn’t built like other guys doesn’t mean that this war wouldn’t be lucky to have him!’ you spat.

‘If you love him so much why don’t you go out with him, huh? I mean Bucky promised me a friend for my friend, from what he said I thought- ‘

‘Oh, just shut up will you!’ you spat, holding back so you didn’t punch her. At that moment, Bucky appeared at your group and said ‘Problem ladies?’ The girls batted their eyes and denied any problem but you weren’t relenting, and you certainly weren’t going to spend time with girls as nasty as this, even if it were Bucky’s last night.

‘So, who’s up for dancing?’

‘Actually, I think I’m going to go and find Steve,’ you announced, seeing Bucky’s face fall for the fraction of a second. ‘There’s no point, he’s gone and you’re not gonna talk him out of it, might as well just leave it Y/N,’ he reasoned understandingly as your eyes scanned around for Steve.

‘Then I think I’m just gonna go home,’ you said.

‘C’mon Y/N, it’s my last night. I can’t have both my friends bail on me! And besides, you love dancin’,’ he said with a cheeky grin yet your stern expression didn’t falter.

‘Sorry Buck, anyway I’m sure you’ve got enough dance partners to keep you busy,’ you quipped leaning up to give him a brief hug but Bucky pulled away and asked the girls to wait a minute before dragging you out of earshot.

‘Y/N C'mon don’t leave.’

‘I’m sorry Bucky, I know it’s your last night but I don’t want to spend it with your floozy’s.’

‘So, you’re just going to walk all the way home on ya own?’

‘Yes,’ you said adamantly but Bucky shook his head and looked at you like you were the most idiotic person he’d ever laid eyes upon. He muttered ‘Wait here,’ then returned to the girls. You watched as he spoke quietly causing them to look furious and stomp off into the crowd. Turning back, he joined you and linked your arm forcing you to walk alongside him.

‘What did you say?’ you asked meekly, secretly overjoyed he’d chosen to walk you home than stay there.

‘Told em’ that I couldn’t let you walk through Brooklyn at night and hoped they’d understand. They didn’t.’

‘Sorry,’ you apologised but Bucky looked down at you and smiled, ‘Don’t worry ‘bout it. I don’t even know ‘em. Besides, couldn’t let my best girl walk home all alone.’

The two of you chatted casually as you walked home, hoping to keep away from the topic of his inevitable departure to an unknown war. He asked you to watch Steve and try and ‘keep the kid outta trouble’ and you promised you would. Once you were a few blocks away from your apartment you both grew silent, trying to prolong the night as long as possible. Bucky glanced at you every so often, Steve’s words playing over and over in his mind. You see for a guy with little experience around women, Steve knew a lot. And he’d been able to recognise that you were in love with his best friend almost instantly.

Bucky had met you when he was young and immature so he assumed his attraction towards you were simply because you were a girl. But as he grew up he realised it wasn’t simply attraction, it was something deeper. Bucky had always had a lot of luck with the ladies yet when it came to you he was stumped. He almost thought you had a thing for Steve for a minute until Steve had informed him that he was a complete idiot and it was really him he was in love with. Yet he still couldn’t make a move.

Bucky felt you leaning against his shoulder as you walked, and moved to wrap an arm around you lovingly. You sighed and whispered ‘I wish we could stay like this forever.’

Bucky murmured in agreement and your heart swelled. You broke apart as you rounded the corner to your apartment building. Climbing the stairs, the two of you came to a stop outside your front door. Your emotions were running riot now, and as you turned to look at his handsome face you could feel tears stinging your eyes again. Coming towards him you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek against his chest, the dull thud of his heartbeat tapping underneath the scratchy material your ear rested upon. His arms wrapped around you and he rested his chin on top of your head and closed his eyes. He was so content in this moment.

Pulling back, he looked at your face which was adorned in a sad smile. Without thinking he placed his hand on your cheek and leaned down capturing your soft lips with his. Your heart raced as he did and your breathing quickened. Exiting the kiss, he pressed his forehead on yours and smiled. You smiled back before whispering, ‘what was that for?’

‘I don’t know-,’ he hesitated, pulling back to look at you, ‘I just-. I guess I didn’t want to leave without kissing you at least once. Y’know in case,’ he said but you placed a finger on his lips shushing him.

‘Wait here,’ you said before slipping from his grasp and going inside. Bucky stood there confused until you returned with something in your hand. Grabbing his hand, you placed a small picture of yourself in his palm and beamed at him. ‘Here,’ you said wrapping his fingers around it.

‘What’s this for?’

‘I’ve waited years for you to kiss me, there’s no way you’re heading off to war and forgetting about me.’

‘You really think I could?’ he asked bemusedly, holding you close once again, ‘Like I said before, you’re my best girl.’

‘Good,’ you giggled, ‘Even so, you need to keep hold of that.’

‘How come?’

‘I’m going to keep you safe.’

‘You think it’ll work, huh?’

‘Of course, it will,’ you smiled, ‘I’m your best girl.’

[beautifulramblingbrains]

Bound By Honour - Chapter 5

Pairing: Eric/OC *Sarah* Fandom: Divergent/Insurgent Rating: M - Some very expressive content within the depths of this post.

Eric has the best hand in all the factions, but can’t seem to get to grips with his life as a parent to two grown Dauntless members. The honour is passed to Sarah as she battles with the woes of an unruly daughter and a wayward son. Balanced with a intricate web of personal struggles and outsiders, can they stop their family from falling apart?

A/N: I’m sorry for the delay. Some of you may well know that I’ve been distracted, and I will be taking a lengthy break from writing fanfiction. I have some things I want to do for myself and I feel I’m ready and it’s about time. I will still be around to chat etc, just not participating in uploading fics, at least until my current muse ends anyway. Thank you for reading and supporting me for so long.

Tags: @singingpeople@equalstrashflavoredtrash@pathybo@beltz2016 @ariwolff14@lostinthebeans@kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995@jojuarez26 @tigpooh67@mom2reesie@lilu46 @murmelinchen @lauraaan182

“And how’s school, Eliza?” Sarah asks over a stew Mary had made earlier that day. She wasn’t meant to stay for so long but it just ended up being that way with Mary telling her that Eliza would be home from school soon. She had felt obliged to stay, seeing as her husband Mark was also away during the weeks now because of her own son.

Eliza was a pretty brunette with long brown ringlets loosely falling by her ears. Her mannerisms were faultless as she sat straight, holding a spoon that seemed too large for her hands. Mary wasn’t forceful with correcting sloppy behavior, Eliza had seemingly picked up her mother’s ways through instinct. It was nothing like how they were brought up. It felt calm and peaceful, an easy home to belong to. In fact, it wasn’t even like Sarah’s home, because of the constant play on parenting and Eric’s obnoxious ways.

“I love school, Auntie Sarah.” Her voice is so small and quaint. It makes her think of April and how different she is to her cousin. April has never been quaint or delicate, the quirks of her father had taken her genes and entrapped them. Though April didn’t have height on her side, her attitude carried her much further. If only she could learn how to embrace it.

“I also remember someone who loved school,” Sarah says, hinting to Mary who grins quickly at her. “You remind me of her so much.”

“Is that my mommy?” The little girl questions, tilting her head shyly while they watch her.

“Yes.”

With a small giggle, they grow quiet, finishing their food. Sarah politely props her spoon in the bowl and sighs. “Thank you for dinner. It’s nice not having to make it myself. It tastes better.” It was also earlier than she was used to. Most nights, Sarah’s family were never really ready to sit down to eat until well after eight.

“We should do this more often…” A wry smile forms on Mary’s face. “I also like the fact that the leftovers get delivered by Eliza to Mother.”

“I still haven’t been to see her.” Sarah feels guilty, but not that much. She hadn’t been in the mood to visit Meredith; it would be question upon question, insulting Eric to the tenth degree, and moaning that April and Jack never visit

“That woman is as hard as nails, she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon…” Mary strokes her daughter's hair. “Why don’t you take the bowls out to the kitchen for me? Then when you’re finished, go up to your room and sort your things out for tomorrow.”

Eliza swings her legs down from the long bench and walks over to Sarah on the other side of the table, hugging her quickly. “Good night!” Then she gathers the bowls and heads for the kitchen.

“She’s growing so quickly,” Sarah comments, staring off after her. When Mary doesn’t reply, she frowns over to her. “What?”

“What’s going on? I know you. I know that look. I know the tone. I know the heaviness.”

“Work’s been a little strange. I’m working with Erudite and the new… maybe new Leader.” Sarah fidgets, leaning her arm on the table. “He’s not what I expected. I feel out of my depth and intimidated, I suppose. What’s also strange is that Eric seems to have every confidence in me. I thought at first that he just did it as a way to swindle Erudite while he was busy patching up Candor. I showed him some other information about another major problem, a serious problem, and he hasn’t mentioned it. Maybe I’m just overthinking… I seem to be doing that a lot lately.”

“Overthinking what?” Mary asks, watching Sarah’s eyes remain on the table.

“Everything…” Eliza reappears and they wait until she vanishes upstairs. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course! You can tell me anything. Do you want a drink or something, though? A hot drink?”

Sarah looks out to the sun setting. “No, it’s getting late. I can’t have another relapse of last time.”

Mary scoffs. “Go hard or go home Sarah.”

“You’re not funny.” But she does laugh a little. “I’ll just come out and say it… Blake is being suggestive.”

“And Blake is who again?”

“He’s Blake Hammond, the guy from Erudite that I’m working with. It may just be me, but I feel his persona towards me is mixed. It’s like… it’s like I can’t work him out.”

“So, you mean like, flirting, or...?”

“Sort of. His words are all work related. But it’s the way he expresses himself - his actions.”

“Mommy! I can’t find any hair ties!” Eliza shouts down the stairs, sounding like she was about to descend any minute.

Mary snaps her head over her shoulder. “Honey, just wait two minutes!” Her eyes flicker over Sarah for a moment before she gestures for her to continue. “And?”

“Well, that’s it.” But she begins blushing. “He kissed my cheek after I accepted his work proposal. And he touches my hands a lot,” she rushes, realizing how immature it sounded. “I can’t explain.”

“Have you given him any reason?”

“Nothing at all.” She shrugs, frowning for a moment and then her eyes widen at Mary. “He must be half my age. He knows I’m married.” Sarah bites her lip still under her sister's scrutiny. “Eric doesn’t know any of this. And I can’t tell him. How could I possibly? It sounds preposterous just telling you.”

“I could have guessed that. But to me, it doesn't sound like anything to be worried about. Maybe that’s just what he’s like.” Mary smiles, trying to comfort her older sister. “It may be a big thing to you because you’ve always had Eric breathing down your neck, let alone the chance to interact with, I’m guessing, single and successful men.”

“I have an active social life, Mary. I’m not locked away.” Sarah rolls her eyes. “There is something off with his behavior,” she stresses.

“He hasn’t technically done anything. And as you say, he’s all words, about work from what I’m understanding.”

“It’s his disclosure.”

“Do you... like him?”

It takes Sarah by surprise, scrunching up her nose, she exclaims, “Oh gosh, no!”

“If it happens again, maybe then you should say something.” Mary smiles at her. “Everything is okay with you and Eric, though?”

Sarah thinks about the extra effort Eric has put in lately, especially when he had taken it upon himself to help April the other night. “We are more than fine,” she reassures her sister. She pauses for a moment, wiping a crumb from the table. “Can we keep this between us? I just needed to get that off my chest. And it’s not particularly something I can approach Eric with.”

“You don’t even have to ask. A problem shared is a problem halved. You sure you don’t want anything?”

Sarah stands up, straightening her skirt. “No, I’m going to make a move. It’s getting dark. And I think Eliza is waiting for you.” She finds her boots by the door, slipping her feet inside, and then pulls on her long cloak, shrouding her head with the hood while her sister watches with clasped hands. “If you hear anything from Mark about Jack, let me know as soon as you can.”

“All I know is that signal is bad and they are extremely busy. I barely hear from Mark as much as I’d like,” Mary lies. But it’s for the sake of Sarah’s state of mind, so that can’t be a bad thing…

They hug quickly, and as Sarah steps onto the graveled path, she waves over her shoulder, the light from inside dying with the door closing.

It’s colder than she had realized, the night sky clear and freckled with masses of stars, the moon bright overhead and appearing as if it leads the way home. Of course, Abnegation is like a ghost town, the opposite of Sarah’s Dauntless lifestyle. Most of the people here would be dining with their families and tucked up by nine, not long after their children’s heads had hit the pillow.

Sarah knew this route like the back of her hands. It took her through a patch of abandoned buildings and old streets. She admired the way nature had tried to claim back some of the carnage left behind; growing through the brickwork and sprouting in the cracks in the sidewalk. She even thought the space between Abnegation and Dauntless was like a different solitary world. It was usually the place where the bulk of her thoughts were left to run wild and the only witness of her dreaming was the sun or moon itself. The old buildings were like long forgotten whispers of the past, only still present to be remembered for what was - like gravestones, sad but beautiful.

But something has Sarah peer over her shoulder. Not once had she ever feared walking the short track home, but like the connection she processed when people's moods changed, the same feeling slipped down the back of her neck unexpectedly.

She increases her pace a little more, no longer able to wander in her thoughts - when she hears a sharp scrape behind her. She gasps, having heard it so evidently, twirling round to… nothing. Staying completely still, though her breath left raggedly through her open mouth no matter how hard she tried to control it, the old street remained silent.

After the initial fear, her anxiety creeps in. “Get yourself together, Sarah…” she whispers to herself. “This is stupid.” Turning and heading back towards Dauntless once again, every piece of her skin is on alert. The urge to run ahead screamed in her thighs, but her mind kept her locked with indecisions and uncertainty of why she actually should if there was nothing physically there.

She doesn’t need to be convinced further when the sound of rocks scatter behind her. She grabs the front of her skirt and sprints without looking back. Turning a corner, she pushes herself up against the cover of a building. What sounded like debris is now large striding footsteps, approaching closer and closer. Peering down the dark street to her right, a path set away from her destination, she doesn’t know where it leads, or at least can’t remember precisely in this moment as adrenaline pumped through her veins and blocked her thoughts. Her fingers grip into the concrete behind her and she prays the person will pass without noticing her. The fight or flight instinct was a terribly blurry line between possible stupidity; standing up to whoever was coming behind her, or maybe a chance of escaping and unknowing.

She decides to face her fears, stepping out determinedly, though shaken and comes face to face with… Thomas. She doesn’t hesitate and throws herself into her younger brother’s arms.

“What are you doing?” he questions while chuckling as if she was insane for embracing him so tightly.

“You frightened me!” She whacks his back for good measure.

“I’m sorry. I just saw Mare and she said you’d just left and I didn’t want to miss you.” She still doesn’t let go. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine now.” Standing back she wipes her nose, beginning to smile as the threatening feeling evaporated. She even laughs. “God, I feel so stupid.”

“I’m not surprised. You looked it.” She whacks him playfully on the arm. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I thought I was being followed or… I don’t know!” Putting a hand to her hip, she breathes deeply. “Can you walk me home?”

“I would be delighted.” Enthusiastically, he guides her hand to the crook of his arm and covers it with his own. Sarah feels safe like this. Her once small and young brother; the one she used to protect from all the happenings of the past, now a strong man she could rely on who had changed roles with her. How things had changed. But his next words make her blood run cold. “I only saw you step around the corner, thank god I did, as I don’t think I would have spotted you.”

Sarah quickly calculates the time between when she had stopped and gazed down the path, back towards Abnegation. She swallows dryly. “Just now?”

“I sprinted the whole way. I got my daily dose of exercise.” He continues talking aimlessly, and Sarah peers back behind her, Thomas dragging her forward. What was that?

Sarah opens the door to the apartment and Eric is sitting at the dining table. He’s passive when he sees her, appearing as if he has been waiting. There is no work in front of him and his phone is under one of his hands. “You do realize you have a phone, right?” he asks sarcastically. But she ignores him, unwrapping herself from her long cloak and kicking her boots off. 

Eric stands up and rounds the table, waiting a few feet from her.

“April?” Sarah questions.

He shakes his head before replying, “Nightshift.” She doesn’t miss the cocky lift in his lip from his own doing. “Double shift, too.” He seems proud of his own trifling.

Sarah pulls out her hair, unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress. She kicks her boots to one side, rolling down her stockings and lifts her dress over her head in one fluid motion. Standing still, Eric inclines his chin, another way of asking what she was up to.

For the final revelation, she unclips her bra, dropping it to the ground. That’s where Eric’s eyes flick to and then back to her face. “Well, this is a surprise.”

“Stop talking,” she says tremulously. Her last garment is her underwear, flung carelessly without breaking his eye contact. “Take your clothes off.”

Eric stares blankly at her for a moment. Ever so slightly his eyes narrow, his hands reaching up to undo his uniform. His jaw is set as he strips away his top layers, revealing a solid body etched with tattoos and specific marks gained from his line of work. As he breathes, his muscles flex under his skin as if in anticipation of her next move. And he takes a wide, confident stance under her perusal.

When she doesn’t move, he goes for his belt, but that is when she steps forward. “Wait.” She pads over, instantly caught by the close heat of him towering over her, a nervous shake tinging her fingertips. Unclipping his belt, she slides it from the loops of his pants. “Keep this.”

It’s an unusual request that throws him. In his pause, she unbuttons his pants, sliding them down his legs, then straightens, allowing him to remove them.

And then she offers her wrists to him with a mild blush on her cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s happening right now. But I’m not going to question it.” His voice is steady, pulling his belt tight over her desired destination. Tugging on the strap, she tags him along with her and he holds onto the belt until they reach the bedroom. Wrapping the loose leather a few times to secure her, he already knows what she wants.

Eric pushes her onto her front, moving up quickly behind her, and Sarah pants in anticipation. Rubbing the tip of his cock slowly over her clit, he nudges forwards to feel her center when he passes, easing his way in.

Sarah gathers the sheets into her fists, just as he charges forwards. She whimpers semi-consciously, arching her back, trying to spur him on, listening to the raggedness of his breath as the slow strokes are abandoned for hard thrusts; Eric’s control and awareness slipping. Sharp jolts knock her stability, constantly squirming to readjust as his grip tightens on her hips.

“Harder,” spills from her lips. But it’s not what she wants. Eric does what she says, a grunt escaping from his effort. “Harder, Eric. Harder.” Sarah was coaxing him, coaxing him to understand. “Harder!” When his palm connects with her thigh, half playfully, half in frustration it seems, she entices him further. “Yes, like that.” She turns around only to make eye contact, to tell him it was okay. “Again!” 

The sound as his palm meets her skin, echoes in the air and she mewls, enjoying the sting. “Again!” And he does so on command. She can feel her body tightening, along with the build-up of guilt and stress she felt and pushed away on a daily basis; it all beginning to unravel. It gets to a point she doesn’t even comprehend what’s she’s saying, murmuring the same word over and over.

It’s only when Eric stops, she glances over her shoulder, irritated and unsatisfied. He’s sweating, panting, rubbing at his temples. “Eric… what-”

“I’ve come, Sarah.” His tone is something she’s barely ever heard before. He’s disappointed.

Lost for words, she awkwardly rolls over to face him in the transcending silence. “What? You mean…”

“You made me come. The way you were talking. What you were saying.” His face is pained, almost disgusted with himself. “Why do you want me to hurt you?”

Did she say that? “I… I…” It’s a fiery burn of embarrassment and loathing for herself that forces its way to the surface of her cheeks. “That’s not…”

“You made me take you like a whore!” Eric explodes, beginning to pace, constantly rubbing his face. “You’re my wife!”

“Exactly!” she retorts. “I am your wife. I… I…” She obviously wanted this, but not with this outcome. She hadn’t thought of the consequences of her over-exhilarant actions. “I am not a whore, Eric!”

“Then don’t make me fuck you like one!”

Sarah’s mouth drops open. Ultimately, she had caused this; she had done this. Eric had his kinks and they were never exactly conventional with their lovemaking but he was always in control. She had taken it to another level, something he wasn’t happy with. In her shame, she pulls the sheet up to cover herself.

Without another word, Eric heads for the door. “Wait! Where… where are you going?” Could she fix this? She could try if she could only talk to him for a moment. But deep down she knew he couldn’t, not in this raging state he was in. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” Eric slams the bedroom door shut. Sitting in the silence of their bedroom, Sarah doesn’t move; she doesn’t cry, doesn’t wallow in her own pity. What she felt, she deserved, and she embraced it.

Jack’s busy staring up at the ceiling. The pain is manageable, causing his mind to be restless. Most of the night he had all the time to think, which he usually wished for. But right now it was too much. Too quiet. 

Hearing the door open to his small room, he glances over slowly to Chip smiling. “Came to see the patient. The others sent their regards,” he explains, his eyes traveling to Jack’s arm supported up to his chest to help aid his shoulder. “It suits you.”

Jack scoffs, sitting himself up further. “I’m done with this place.”

Chip strolls more into the room and touches the array of different wildflowers beside Jack’s bed. “Interesting… I would be more surprised if we hadn’t have gone on our woodwalk. I take you for a nature guy now.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Day off.” Chip shrugs, taking a seat on the spare chair next to his bed. “Kind of missed my grumpy friend.”

“You should be with the others.” Jack’s voice is husky, low, almost sounding defeated.

“The others are all doing boring shit or sleeping. Plus, half are still working. I’m just lucky I was picked first. They get the day off tomorrow.” They stare at each other too long until Jack looks away. “And I’m not going anywhere before you say it.”

“Why do you bother?”

In confusion, his friend’s face scrunches up. “What?”

“Why are you here? Why do you bother?” he repeats, sharper than before.

“I can see past the evasive front you put on. It’s getting rather boring now, Jacko Smacko.” Chip pushes from the bed to tilt in his chair. He seems to remember something and pulls out a notepad and pen and begins scribbling. “Jenny asked about you.”

“Great.” He rolls his eyes, his voice laden with sarcasm. “...I’ve been thinking about her the whole time I’ve been in here.”

“What have you been thinking about?” Chip mumbles and Jack looks over to his friend’s tongue sticking out the further he gets into whatever he’s scribbling. He doesn’t acknowledge him, or the fact his question is heavily prying as per usual.

“Honestly?” he asks after a moment. “I’ve been thinking about capping the dick who shot me.”

Rotating the notepad to a weird angle, his friend's voice is almost absent when he says, “You’re going to have an awesome scar.”

“I keep thinking…” He feels himself becoming irritable and hot, letting his head fall back onto the pillows propping him up. “...About my mom.”

Chip pauses now. “I don’t know whether to ask as you told me not to talk about your mom-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jack interrupts him and sighs. “I just keep thinking about her. I think about April too.”

“No offense, but I’ve never liked April. She’s such a bit-” He looks up at Jack and licks his lips. “…She’s a horrible person, man.” Chip looks down to his notebook. “She tipped a drink purposefully over me once in the Pit. We were in initiation together. She branded me a loser and…” He touches his hair, messing the top of his dark, sandy locks; a thing Jack noticed he did when Chip got nervous. “...She made my life practically hell. Typical class A bully.” He snorts to himself and begins scribbling quicker than before.

It shouldn’t be Jack’s burden to carry the guilt of what April’s done in the past, but he can’t help it. “Mate, you are not the only one. She’s my sister and at times I find it hard to like her.”

“She turned that entire class against me and ever since I’ve been trying to win back people’s respect because of her. She wasn’t that bad with anyone else. I was the only one. Do you have any idea what that is like?”

“I’m sorry.”

Chip inhales sharply, meeting Jack’s gaze, and this time neither breaks it. Obviously, an apology on April’s behalf was not what he was expecting. A smile reflects on both their faces slowly, and Chip turns the notebook to show him. “I’m a little rusty. Not my typical notepad either, it’s a bit small. And ignore the page lines, that’s-”

“You drew me?”

“I like to draw emotions… expressions. It just so happens you have so many of them.”

Cautiously Jack studies him. He’d never met anyone so persistent and open by Dauntless standards.

“You’re even doing it now,” Chip mentions with a smile and points at his friend to emphasize his point.

“Habit,” he mumbles quickly and looks down at his free hand.

“Shall I get coffee?” Chip asks, a coarseness to his voice as he drags himself out of the chair.

“Definitely,” Jack replies and watches Chip leave the room. A heavy feeling of confusion washes over him as he glances at the notepad left open on the chair next to him.

Sarah decides to have lunch back at the apartment with the pitiful hope Eric would come back to find her. He hasn’t. She’s aware of the sound of April banging around in her bedroom getting ready for the day after her night shift. 

She sips a coffee, something Eric had got her accustomed to years ago as April makes an appearance, almost dashing by. “Hi, April,” Sarah says with a smile, putting down her coffee cup.

“Oh, hey mom,” she chirps back with a head of bouncing waves. Her eyes land on Sarah’s cup and she comes directly over and snatches it up, sipping it. Sarah was used to it by now.

“I like your hair.”

Vainly, April pulls on a strand. “Thanks! I thought it may be a bit much… You don’t think so, right?” Expectantly, she looks at her.

“I’ve always said you should leave it natural.” Sarah gets the vibe she is about to leave at any minute. “How was work last night?”

“Long, boring, irritating. The usual.”

“Will you sit with me for a minute?” April seems surprised, biting her lip, but does so anyway.

“Where’s dad?”

“I… I don’t know.” Sarah scoffs sadly, peering down to the table.

“You’re not going to cry or anything, are you?” April rolls her eyes. “You know I’m not good with that stuff.”

“No, no! I’m fine. Turn around and let me see the back,” she motions to her hair. April does so, her frame slender and petite from this angle and Sarah revels in the slight attention she has from her daughter, scrunching the ends. “You know, my little sister Elizabeth, Lizzie, your aunty, had very curly hair. I think you two would have gotten on really well, she was... something. You share a lot with your dad, but with her too.”

“Nobody really speaks about her,” April says quietly. “Mary gets all teary whenever she thinks about it or if it’s mentioned.”

“It’s... a hard subject.” Sarah tilts her head, still tending to her daughter's hair.

“What happened? I mean, I know it was an accident…”

Sarah has always avoided the facts as the children were always too young, but she couldn't find fault in the open truth anymore. “We were too late.” She stops, and April turns to face her questioningly. “Me and Mary went to find her after she ran away. The stupid girl wanted to be with the factionless. She couldn’t stand living with Grandma and Grandpa anymore. We found her, but it was too late.”

“Was dad there?”

“He has always been there.” It’s one thing she couldn’t fault him on. Still to this day, she couldn’t work out if Eric saved her that day; stopping her from devotedly crossing the train track to get to Lizzie.

“Is that what happens when people die? They just get forgotten?”

“It’s not that we have forgotten her. She was so full of life, she wouldn’t want us moping around.”

April’s blue eyes narrow. “That’s where you and me are different, mom. When I die, I hope people can’t live without me.”

“Don’t say such a thing! I couldn’t live without you. And I’m sure your father would have the same reply.” April shakes her head, looking out towards the door. “April,” Sarah says sharply. “It’s not forgetting about someone, it’s genuinely just time. It never stops. It never ceases.” She grabs her hand and holds it. “I wanted to keep you small forever, but without time, you wouldn’t have turned into the young and beautiful woman you are today.”

“Forced compliments make me cringe.”

“I’m serious. No matter what, you will always be my little girl. Can’t you see that?”

“This is a real nice mother-daughter moment, mom, but I’m going to be late for work.”

Sarah holds her hand tighter. “Please don’t shut me out anymore. I need you just as much as you need me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you didn’t need Meredith. So, how could you possibly know about how much we need each other if you hardly had a mother yourself?”

“She’s the exception, not the rule.”

“You’re just like dad, rules to suit yourself - like Jack, for instance. Don’t try and fool me, I know you wish it was me out there and not him. It’s written all over your face, day in and day out.”

Sarah snaps her hand away as if she had been burnt. “How dare you say that!”

“But it’s true!” April stands up, knocking the table. “And you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, I guess that you and dad have had another row. The quicker he sees you for what you are, an Abnegation, the better. You’ve changed him. I hear all these great stories of this incredible Leader and I never get to see any of it! Why are you forcing yourselves to click with each other? You don’t match!” This was something April had kept submerged and she really couldn’t have picked a more harrowing time to vent them. They were her most inner thoughts and opinions on Sarah’s situation - and it was crushing. More so, because she couldn’t grasp what love is; what it took for them to finally find each other for who they were, sounding like the many bitter people who put themselves in the way of their relationship before. She didn’t see her; her mother, a person willing to see past any front April tried to depict. A friend; Sarah spent so many nights praying to be. All she ever saw was gray. “...And when he divorces you-”

Sarah is possessed with such an awful hurt which unpredictably drags itself to the surface, that she stands up and slaps April’s face with force, just as the front door clicks and Eric steps into the room. Whether his face was like thunder before, she doesn’t know.

April lurches towards Sarah threateningly and Sarah loses her nerve, cringing back.

“April!” Eric bellows. The young girl pants in anger, a red swelling on her cheek from her mother’s hand, the payment of her awful words, and storms past him while all he does is watch.

“I… I didn’t mean to do that…” Sarah runs a hand through her hair, pushing flyaways back in place. “You didn’t hear what she was saying…”

“Have you gone mad? Have you lost your mind? I come back to talk, at the very least, and see you taking a swipe at April now?”

“She was saying hateful things. She loathes the very ground I walk on over something I can’t control. You know what she is like!”

“Oh yeah, I know. But I also thought I knew you.” Eric wipes at his mouth quickly, an irritable fashion he usually did before he exploded. “If you want to take your anger out on someone, take it out on me, not our daughter.”

“You’re defending her?” Sarah says exasperatedly, throwing her arms up. “No… no… Of course you are. I’m stupid to think otherwise.”

“You’re acting pretty fucking stupid right now.”

“I wonder why!” Nothing short of hysterical was the only thing Sarah could begin to describe her tone of voice.

“That’s a question I keeping asking myself!” He steps forward and Sarah’s arm shoots out to stop him.

“She wants you to divorce me!”

“Oh, she does? Is that what you think I’m going to do? If you do, you don’t know me very well either. I took my vows seriously, Sarah.” He proceeds to approach cautiously all while she stands numbly with her outburst, hand to her forehead. “Do you want me to?”

She looks up at him. “No, of course not...”

“At least we’ve got that settled. You’re listening to a lonely girl’s cry for help with a plate load of shit waiting for you back at the office. If it’s too much, just say so.” The head tilt with his reply is a test. She’d seen it so many times now. She knew he had expectations of her and she didn’t want to fail him. He looked completely fresh in his uniform, down to his spotless boots. And she felt sweaty and disheveled, her nerves trip-wiring while he always managed to make it seem effortless.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers defeatedly.

“What for?” His voice is low, not threatening anymore, almost comforting.

“I’m not strong. I’m not like you.” It started to give her a sense of why Eric was how he is. Until put into a similar position, she couldn't fathom her mind being drafted into different sections. She’d always been primed with tasks that were never too much of a responsibility. Yes, she sounded for the council in Abnegation on other topics people relied on, but never to this difficulty of Erudite. With the added effects of April and Jack, it was a recipe for personal and professional disaster. “I try, I really do.”

“Sarah...” As always, he lets his fingers tuck her hair away, gently tilting her face up to him. “I’ve always wanted you for who you are.” He shrugs. “Maybe, at first, I couldn’t quite get that. But I see it now. And always have since. I don’t want you to be like me, sweetheart.”

“But I’m not weak,” she stresses.

“No. You certainly aren’t.” He scoffs, his hands leisurely enveloping her waist. “Who else could stand me for nearly eighteen years? If anything, I feel kind of lucky.”

“Last night-” she rushes to say but he interrupts her.

“Forget about last night.” He dismisses it with a wave of his hand and swiftly cradles her head, pulling her forward, his lips in her hair, he lets her rest in the crook of his neck. “Forget about it. And forget about April too, she’ll get over it. Plus, I have something to show you.” She pulls back to the picturesque sight that is his smirk.

Eric had guided her to the Leader’s suite and covered her eyes as the elevator appeared on their floor. He walks her slowly as she grips his wrists, anxious and a little excited about what was in store that was so top secret that he couldn’t just say. 

“You’re scaring me a bit,” she comments, her hands gripping his wrists tighter while she is constantly driven forward by his chest hitting her back.

“That’s alright,” he whispers close to her ear. “Being scared makes you hold me closer.” He pushes up purposefully from behind. “And it reminds me of a time, years ago, down in the dark of the basement when we were trying to find those shitty panels.” His hands tighten on her skin as he mumbles, “Your wide eyes, open mouth, that quivering break in your voice.”

“There was no way, at the time, that you were thinking that.” She scoffs and laughs at how she remembers Eric back in the day. “You were stomping your feet, and you were mad that you had to go and fix the problem yourself.”

“How do you know exactly what I was thinking?” He bites at her neck suggestively, and as she flinches to stop him, he keeps his hands steady over her eyes. “No looking.”

“I remember thinking, ‘what would he do if I reached out and touched him’, as we were descending the steps. I was truly frightened then. I couldn’t see my own feet.”

“Honestly, I was hoping you would.”

Sarah beams, biting her lip to control herself as they swayed to a stop, the familiar waves of heat beginning to tighten pleasantly in the pit of her stomach. “Can I open them now?”

“Hold on.” It sounds like a door clicking open and Eric flicking on a light. A strong smell of fresh paint and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on entranced her senses in a rush. It made it almost impossible to wait any longer, Eric was really drawing this out, until he says, “Okay, you can look now.”

Sarah opens her eyes and gasps.