#but he's also clearly a bit drawn to someone who paid enough attention to him to see through his bullshit (sometimes)

[leguin]

the big 'armand never tried to save louis' reveal did surprise me, but does explain san francisco so much more...like of course a guy whose entire relationship (and focus of his life) is based on a lie of him being a much more selfless and less cowardly person than he is is going to mindwipe fights from his partner's mind! armand's two options were to become a better person or hope louis never ever found out the truth (with the aid of his powers and a tragic amount of overconfidence), and he went with the latter. bad choice for him, but very consistent.

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

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

Fall Into You | Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

Alright my friends. Here is my latest piece of insanity.

It is completely raw and unedited. So, if there are a ton of mistakes, I apologize in advance.

What a whirlwind thing this was. I literally only planned to write the last little bit at the end, that was the entire premise and then 7000 more words came along with it.

-----

This is a partial crossover fic.

TFATWS | The Alienist | Dr. Strange | Loki | universe all mushed together in bits and pieces.

But mostly The Alienist.

Hopefully the characterizations feel okay. Dr. Kreizler and John Moore can be a bit tricky to write and I've never written them before. So, please bear with me on this.

Buckle up. It's going to be a doozy. Kinda.

-----

Word Count: 6,900 - ish

What happens when you wind up 124 years into the past and meet a relative of Baron Helmut Zemo's?

A lot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was early evening and you were perched on one of Dr. Kreizler's fine couches, in front of the fireplace, reading a book.

You were waiting for Stevie to drop by and drag you to some musical street performance not terribly far from Dr. Kreizler's residence. Normally, you would have stayed hidden indoors, but you took a liking to the kid when you first met him, and decided you couldn't let him down.

Hopefully Stevie wouldn't drag you out too long, otherwise Dr. Kreizler would start to worry. Although, he would never outright admit to it, but it was the subtle things he did that indicated his concern. Or perhaps it was annoyance. That wouldn't surprise you either. You were loud and very talkative. He'd probably grateful to have to leave his house; so he can finally get some peace and quiet.

Dr. Kreizler always kept to himself and rarely made a display of his feelings to anyone, but you were a good friend of his in the short time you had come to know him. So, you got little peeks into what lay hidden away.

He was gracious enough to allow you stay in his home until you could figure out a way to get back to your own time. One minute you were talking to Wong inside Dr. Strange's sanctum in New York, and the next a portal opened up underneath you and you were falling.

After travelling through an empty void that seemed to go on forever, you finally exited through the other side, which landed you in front of a police precinct. You had looked around after picking yourself up and realized you were in quite the pickle. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was not your New York.

People were starting to stare at as you took in your surroundings. You initially thought it was because you had randomly fallen out of the sky, but realization had dawned on you; it was because of your clothing.

Ah, yes. You suppose compared to what all the other women were wearing, you were a sight to behold. Jeans, a forest green blouse, and short brown leather jacket, would draw some attention, when all the other women were dressed so conservatively in dresses. You laughed nervously backing away from the small crowd on the sidewalk. You calmly but quickly darted over to a newsie holding up a paper for sale.

You paid the kid a dollar and snatched the paper out of his hand. Not paying attention in the least to his shouts of joy on making so much off of one measly paper, but you were too focused on finding out what time period you were in.

You caught the date at the top of the newspaper: April 1st, 1897.

April Fool's Day.

Typical, something like this would happen to you. Joke's on them, as someone is going to have a hell of time trying to figure out where you went. You're quite sure Wong was trying to sort through what happened and had already calling Strange.

Well, you hope he had.

You put down the paper and tried to think of what to do, but a small crowd of people were still stopped and whispering to each other, pointing in your general direction.

One man was gesturing in your direction and started shouting, but not at you.

"Hey Kreizler, this one looks like a crazy. Should probably haul her off to Bellevue!"

You raised your eyebrow at the man, but didn't say anything, instead choosing to turn and see who he was yelling at.

A very well dressed man wearing a bowler hat was walking down the steps of the police precinct in a rushed sort of manner. He had a cane with him, and it appeared his right arm was tucked against his body as if protecting it. A few steps behind him there was another man darting to catch up with him, also well dressed and carrying what seemed to be a sketchbook.

The guy on the street had yelled at the gentleman in the bowler hat again, which you had assumed at this point was Dr. Kreizler. As the two men reached the bottom of the steps and were about to step into their carriage, the incessant yelling had managed to grab Kreizler's attention. At least it seemed so, because the man with the cane had paused and turned his attention towards the direction of the yelling.

You could see from his body language he wasn't all that interested, but when his eye-line landed on you, he backed away from getting inside.

The other gentleman that was accompanying him, the one with the sketchbook, said something to him, but Dr. Kreizler just waved him off as he started to walk over to you.

Great.

You look over to the rude gentleman that had now drawn even more attention to you and gave him an unappreciative stare.

You steeled yourself, ready for whatever this stranger was going to say to you, but your guard had dropped slightly upon getting a better look at his face.

No way.

This was not possible.

The man that had come over to you was the spitting image of one genius, criminal mastermind and general pain in your ass, you knew all too well. One who's currently locked up in The Raft.

If it wasn't for the beard, you'd swear you were looking at Baron Helmut Zemo.

As Dr. Kreizler stopped a few feet from you, he tilted his head to the side and eyed you warily, but not unkindly.

That head tilt, a family trait for sure. Zemo had to be some distant relative of this man in some way, there's no chance they aren't with how closely the two resemble each other. She'd have to make a trip to The Raft and ask him about it sometime, if she ever got back home.

"My dear, you seem out of sorts. Are you alright?" the man inquired, gazing at the small gathering of people and then back to you.

"I kinda stick out like a sore thumb, yeah?" You laughed as you answer his question, peering down at your outfit.

"Quite," he replied.

You saw while he may be cautious around you, you've seem to grab his interest with the scrutiny and intensity of his gaze.

"If I may introduce myself, my name is Doctor Laszlo Kreizler," the gentleman stated.

Ah, so this was indeed the man who was being called out from the street. You noticed he didn't extend his hand in greeting, but then again perhaps it wasn't a pertinent gesture for the time period either. So, you didn't take offense to it.

Your eyeline moved behind Dr. Kreizler and could see his friend at the carriage watching with interest, but also growing impatience.

You gave a kind smile as you introduced yourself and added, "Thank you for humoring the nosy man over there, but I'm not in need of a doctor. I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day."

"Not in the least. And I may be a doctor, but I am an alienist more specifically," Kreizler explained.

Your eyebrows shot into your forehead and then contemplated his title. An alienist? Where had you heard that before? If you remembered correctly, an alienist was someone who assessed individuals for competence?

Oh.

The shouty man had mentioned Bellevue. Okay, now you understood.

"An alienist! That term is...." you paused trying to think of a better way to phrase you response. "The term is outdated where I'm from. Instead we simply acknowledge your specific doctorate profession as psychologists, since the very definition of what you do is to study the mind and behavior of individuals," you answered, satisfied with your explanation.

"Outdated. How intriguing. Perhaps we could continue this conversation away from prying eyes and gossipy busy-bodies?" Kreizler asked.

You wouldn't be able to read it on his face, but you can tell you've piqued his interest even more so now with his body language. And his eyes had this sparkle in them as you spoke of his profession so specifically.

Though you felt you could trust this man, you couldn't take the chance that he might, in fact, lure you into his carriage and ship you off to the nearest mental institution, such as Bellevue Hospital.

You'd be lying if you weren't equally intrigued by this enigma of a man standing before you. The resemblance to Baron Zemo was uncanny, and that alone made you want to find out more about him; however, Zemo was not to be trusted as far as you could throw him. Though he did have his moments. You'd give him some credit. Doesn't mean distrustful behavior runs in the family, but it also could. It was a difficult decision.

Your eyes narrowed assessing Dr. Kreizler as you came to decision.

"Shouldn't you give me a mental health assessment test before asking a complete stranger to travel off to who knows where with you? Why shouldn't I be suspicious you aren't going to drop me off at the nearest institute? No offense," you replied warily.

"Thank you!" the man with the sketchbook at the carriage shouted at both you and Dr. Kreizler, clearly in agreement with your answer.

You snickered at his sarcastic reply, but attempted to cover your ever growing smile by coughing.

The corner of Dr. Kreizler's mouth ticked up in a smile as well.

"No my dear, if anything you've just proven you're at least slightly more sane than my counterpart, Mr. John Moore," Dr. Kreizler shook his head and jutted his thumb behind him.

"Heard that Laszlo!" Moore responded with indignation.

"That was the point John," Dr. Kreizler answered back with dry wit.

Yeah, she liked him already.

"Shall we?" Kreizler turned slightly to gesture to his carriage.

You sighed internally. Why the hell not? You had nothing better to do and no idea what your next move should be trying to get home. Dr. Kreizler would no doubt be curious about your attire and that alone with most likely bring up a slew of never ending questions. You'd have to be careful how to explain your situation and make sure what you revealed was limited, but truthful. You wanted to tell him the truth about where you were from, but you needed to word it in a way that doesn't make you out to be a crazy person, but present the information with facts and evidence that Dr. Kreizler could not refute. Luckily you had some tech with you that could prove your point rather efficiently should the need arise you convince him of what time period you come from in the future. 124 years it a length period of time. It would be difficult for anyone to accept your explanation, but Dr. Kreizler seemed to be different. Let's hope you aren't wrong about him.

"I accept your offer Dr. Kreizler, thank you," you spoke kindly.

You were formally introduced to Mr. Moore and to Stevie before getting in the carriage. Mr. Moore seemed uneasy, but went along with Dr. Kreizler's acceptance of you. He was a trusting friend of his, you could tell right away. And something told you, Dr. Kreizler was a tough nut to crack and didn't seem to be the type of person who might have very many. Only a close few.

"What made you decide to take Dr. Kreizler up on his offer so quickly," Moore asked standing outside the carriage as Stevie was getting the horses ready.

Dr. Kreizler had held the door open for you and waited patiently.

You looked at Dr. Kreizler before turning back to Mr. Moore, "You mean besides his sparkling personality?" you winked and got in the carriage.

John leaned into Kreizler before adjusting his hold on his sketchbook and climbing into the carriage himself.

"Oh, well I like her already Laszlo," he grinned incessantly and gave Kreizler a clap on the back.

You saw Dr. Kreizler bend his head down in amused exasperation as a small huff of laughter sounded with the movement. He sighed somewhat dramatically before getting in the carriage and closing the door.

"You know, I've never actually ridden in one of these before," you say slightly awed.

Both Moore and Kreizler gave you confusing looks before Dr. Kreizler used his cane to tap on the rear enclosure signaling Stevie to head home.

Home. Well, this should be interesting indeed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You closed your book with a snap and slumped into the couch you were perched on. It had been six months, since that day. Six months, you've been trapped in this pocket of 1897.

You had reflected back on how well John and Dr. Kreizler had taken the explanation you were from the future. As you told your story, your only requirement was that they wait until the very end before asking any questions. That gave you the chance to be very methodical about how you explained the future and how it was you ended up in 1897, which to be fair, you don't know exactly how that portal opened still, but magic was involved to say the very least.

It was oddly reminiscent of when Loki used the space stone, which gave her pause. All the infinity stones had been destroyed, and yet you knew that there was an errant 2012 Loki running around the universe with one. It is plausible, he could factor into this, but how or why you, you have no idea.

After you had explained your fanatical circumstance, to help prove you weren't absolutely off your rocker and have Dr. Kreizler change his mind about you, you showed them your phone.

Yes, there may not be any service available, but you could still access all your photos and videos and holographic imagery, etc. That was what allowed John and Dr. Kreizler to accept your story; paired with your unique clothes; they had a surprisingly open mind. John had gaped like a fish for a good 10 minutes before Dr. Kreizler told him to get over it already. John was somewhat outraged that he wasn't more shocked by your existence. But like all things, Dr. Kreizler took everything in stride, which was quite a relief to you. He was incredibly understanding and offered a room in his home to you until you were able to get back to your own time. You made a promise to Dr. Kreizler that you would never lie to him, about anything. It was the least you could do since he opened up his home and essentially part of his life to you.

You understood why he was an expert in his field. His patience and intellect allowed him to be open-minded and grasp concepts others word merely scoff at. However, there was another side to that coin; he was also closed off, and could at times, be calculating and manipulative. Though, none of these traits were used in any nefarious manners, they were there all the same.

He reminded you of Zemo to be sure in this regard. Some personality traits apparently do get passed down through the generations. In some ways, after meeting Dr. Kreizler, you felt you knew Helmut Zemo a bit better. And somehow, you missed him. Not that you were ever particularly close to him, but the time you spent with him in Latvia with Sam and Bucky forever altered your opinion of him.

So while you've been living at Dr. Kreizler's residence, in your spare time, you had been working different avenues of how to achieve ways to get home. You couldn't just solely rely on your friends to get you out of this mess. So, while Dr. Kreizler was at work, you enlisted the help of Stevie to run down leads of potential scientist and gathering of general information of the time period to help you put together some sort of road map. None had turned out to be very promising.

You had, over time, gotten more acclimated to living in 1897, though you mostly refused to wear the clothing of the time period. John Moore would always comment about how you would draw attention in the public eye, should you dare to go out. But you refused to give in most of the time, saying that 1897 would just have to catch up to your fashion sense, and you weren't about to apologize for it. If you were going to be stuck here, you were going to be stuck here, comfortably. You fondly remember Dr. Kreizler's reaction. He seemed pleased, possibly proud of you in that moment. Probably because you had refused to conform to the times, and set your own rules to live by. Not giving in to anyone.

The question lingered, how exactly did you get away with living in this time without having to dress in the clothing of the period? Well, a friend of yours, Scott Lang, had gifted you a device that allowed you to chose one object to shrink and return to it's normal size. So, of course, since you traveled so often with the Sam, Bucky and the other Avengers, you chose your wardrobe. You were just thankful you had it on you already when you got dumped into that portal. So, essentially you had all your clothes with you, making things a bit easier.

Life was not fast paced here, which made things a bit difficult for you. You were used to always being on the go, another crisis to fight through, another area of the world that needed help. But here, here everything was, for the most part, quiet.

It drove you nuts sometimes. Made you antsy. You managed to weasel your way into helping John, Sara and Dr. Kreizler on one of their serial killer cases recently to pass the time. Dr. Kreizler was unhappy at first. You were able to prove your usefulness though with advanced techniques and theories on how to potentially catch the killer in question. Be that as it may, Dr. Kreizler still seemed grumpy, if that were the correct word to use, about you working on the case. You confronted him about it one evening, but he glossed over the whole thing. He was holding back, but what that was, you weren't sure. Maybe he still didn't fully trust you yet. It was a fair assumption, but he was always so hard to read. Though you've managed to get a few good laughs out of him from time to time. Those were the days that really made you smile. Seeing him happy, as most of the time he was always so guarded. It made you feel like you and Dr. Kreizler shared this little secret when no one else was around.

Dr. Kreizler let himself relax ever so slightly around you, but it was far and fleeting. On rare occasions. You savored all those memories and tucked them away. Everyone was so refined and conservative in their mannerisms. You missed just wanting to hug someone. You craved some sort of physical affection, and it was hard, realizing just how different the times were from the future. They weren't terrible by any means, but the social norms of the times had been trying on you, to say the very least. Dr. Kreizler, ever astute, had picked up on this.

He had been gracious enough to offer himself if you ever needed to hug someone. This had been roughly 4 months into your stay at Dr. Kreizler's. You both had gotten more comfortable around the other, and even had a routine of sorts. You had thanked him for his offer, and told him you would not abuse the privilege he had bestowed on you.

Something told her there was more to it, but you hadn't dwelled on it, you were simply appreciative of his friendship.

However more recently, it was more than just friendship you felt. You kept squashing your feelings down, telling yourself this was the worst possible time to develop feelings for someone. Especially someone like Dr. Kreizler. There would never be a happy ending. At some point, you would return home, and that would be that. But there was that nagging sensation in the back of your mind, reminding you, you might not ever get back home. You tried to reason to yourself that you were possibly transferring some of your fondness of Zemo to Dr. Kreizler because of how he reminds you of him. But then you were just lying to yourself. Dr. Kreizler was a person all on his own and one of a kind. You knew better, you were just fighting yourself tooth and nail to live in denial a bit longer.

Footsteps from the kitchen were headed in your direction knocking you out of your musings.

You twisted on the couch to see Dr. Kreizler had returned home from his institute.

"Dr. Kreizler! Good evening," you voiced into the low lit parlor room.

"Good evening to you as well, I trust your day was fruitful?" Dr. Kreizler inquired, coming to rest on the opposite end of the couch.

"It was, thank you. I was somewhat restless earlier, so I took it upon myself to work on the cryptogram the killer left his last victim, with the hopes of figuring out his next location before he strikes," you sheepishly stated.

Dr. Kreizler ruefully smiled at you and shook his head. At one time, he might have gotten upset, but he had been taking your antics more in stride, and you managed to be helpful providing much needed information. So, he'd act unhappy, but silently was thrilled.

"And did you uncover anything useful?" Kreizler queried, he got up from his seat and walked over to the chalk board.

"Not completely, I believe I've broken the code word and the book that the killer has been using to write his cryptograms, but I have yet to comb through all the evidence to gather the page numbers, line and word number to crack the full message. I planned on working on it when I got back with Stevie later this evening," you happily expressed while fidgeting with the watch on your wrist.

"Impressive work. And what book has our killer been using?" Kreizler asked, eyes still going over the work on the board.

"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. You'd think we could have figured that one out sooner given our killer's eclectic methods of murdering people," you answered sarcastically.

Dr. Kreizler bent his knees in utter annoyance, "Of course it is. Of course. How ridiculous to have missed such an obvious choice."

You smiled knowingly. He was irritated he hadn't figured it out sooner.

A companionable silence continued for a few minutes after his outburst.

Dr. Kreizler was still staring at the board with mild interest when he spoke next, "May I ask you a personal question?"

You had just reached over to place the book on the coffee table next to you when he asked his question and you froze mid motion.

Dr. Kreizler generally didn't push too much into your personal life, so this was somewhat out of left field for him. Never-the-less, you recovered after a beat and placed the book on the table.

"Of-of course Dr. Kreizler. I told you I would always be truthful with you regarding anything. Please, go ahead," you answered, motioning for him to continue.

"Why do you always regard me as Dr. Kreizler and not by my first name?" he questioned softly, almost hesitantly.

This was not the question you thought he would ask. There were a million questions he could have chose, but it was this one he went with.

This really was personal.

You glanced down at your hands sitting in your lap as you pondered how to answer his questions. You could lie about it, and he'd be none the wiser, but it's not who you are. And you promised.

Dr. Kreizler went on to further express his inquiry with a bit more confidence, "You call John Moore by his first name and the same with Ms. Howard, including our other friends we work with, but not me. Why?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when the front door slammed open and Stevie came barging in.

"You ready?" he exclaimed loudly. Stevie was clearly excited at the prospect of showing off his musical talent. "Oh, excuse me Dr. Kreizler, I didn't realize you'd gotten home yet. Thought you were working late," Stevie took off his hat and looked sheepish as he apologized for the disruption in his home.

You sighed. This was your saving grace. You could probably make an excuse and make a run for it with Stevie. You mulled over what to do, battling with the decision.

"Hey Stevie. Nice to see you too! Go on outside, I'll be right there. I just need to put my coat on," you laugh at his enthusiasm.

He nodded at you and dashed back down the hallway and out the door. You could hear one last shout as he exited, "Okay, but don't be too long, we're going to be late!"

Dr. Kreizler gave a look of displeasure at Stevie's unrefined outburst, but didn't say anything as he knows his antics all too well from over the years.

You stood up grabbing Dr. Kreizler's attention.

"Walk me to the door?" you ask, jutting your head in the direction of where your coat hangs.

"Do you plan on providing me with an answer?" he kindly jabbed as he nodded his agreement to follow you out.

You outwardly sighed, trying to figure out how to best answer his question. As you both walked to the front door, you start to answer him.

"Okay, so I address you as Dr. Kreizler 33% of the time, because you deserve the respect that comes with that title. You went to school for many years, and you earned it. So, it's only fair to address you as such," you tell him confidently.

A completely reasonable and partial explanation, you thought.

You both reached the front door, and you grabbed your jacket. Dr. Kreizler, the gentleman that he is, assisted you in putting your coat on. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, making sure you looked okay before heading out.

You caught Dr. Kreizler staring at you in the mirror as you adjusted a stray hair that had fallen onto your face.

"You look lovely," he quietly voiced.

You turned to face him as he had opened the door for you and stepped outside.

"Thank you," you said, a bit bashful by his sudden compliment.

His expression had gotten softer and his eyes were glowing in the evening lit night.

Your resolve was crumbling even more so now.

"And the other 67%?" Kreizler softly spoke, head cocked to the side.

"Hey - Miss! We need to be going!" Stevie cried.

You turned to Stevie and hollered, "One mo, Stevie! Don't lose your head!"

"I'm sorry I have to go otherwise Stevie is going to have a coronary," you apologized to Dr. Kreizler.

You walked down a few steps, but stopped. You couldn't not answer him.

You go up a step but not completely back to where you where standing in front of Dr. Kreizler. You inhaled a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, looking up to see Dr. Kreizler eyeing you with slight confusion and anticipation with your hesitance to answer his question in full.

"And the other 67% of the time, I call you Dr. Kreizler because..because," you drifted off closing your eyes. You open them again with quiet resolve shining through, finding your confidence. You take another step up to now stand just a foot away from where Dr. Kreizler was.

"Because, I love you Laszlo. And I use your professional title as a barrier, to - to remind myself I have boundaries. It's just easier to separate you this way or well, to keep myself living in denial," you quietly and defeatedly said, laying it all out for him.

You wanted to open your mouth to say something else to him, to let him know it was okay he didn't feel the same way, but you could never quite form the words that needed to come out.

The shock was written clearly on his face. You had completely gob-smacked this man. His eyes had widened considerably and his jaw had gone slack from your answer.

But he never said anything back. You weren't expecting him to.

So instead, you did what you did best. Ran.

"You've got your answer. I-I really have to go now, I'll see you later," you stuttered out, suddenly drained from your revelation.

You took one last glance at Dr. Kreizler before making a mad dash for it with Stevie.

You were gone before Dr. Kreizler recovered from what just happened. And you never got to see the expression on his face after.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[gojology]

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 |  omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general.   Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades.   You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch.   Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards.    Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel.    The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back.    But the custom notification was sweet as well.   You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.   Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them.   You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances.   You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one.   Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.”   Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone.   ��In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.”   Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.”   You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible.   “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)”   You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen.    “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.”   Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep.  ‧₊˚✩彡.   You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel.   Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle.   “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him.   He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars.   “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.”   You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.”   Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡.    Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face.     “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes.     “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!”    “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.”     Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer.     “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!”     “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind.     “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present.    “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for.    The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life.    A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated:    “WELCOME BACK QT”    “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW”    Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit.     Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone.   “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!”    Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo.   Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed.     Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡.    You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room.     Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents.     The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched.     The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest.    The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together.     Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two.    “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight.     “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see.    “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?”     You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again.     “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined.     “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?”     “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?”     He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room.     “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint.    Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala.     “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.”     Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued.     “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table.     Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.”     “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in.    The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool.     “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again.     “Where do you guys know eachother?”    “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?”    “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?”    “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?”     “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?”     “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?”      Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up.     “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper.     An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji.    “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?”    Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards.     “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.”    “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together.    Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.”    Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again.    Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.    

[bimswritings]

Armorer x (Blacksmith) Reader 1/2

Warnings:Canon Typical violence

A/n: I had so much fun writing this! If anyone has fic recs for her send them my way! The next part of the Savage series and a new chapter of Our Way will come out next week!

_______________________________

The Armorer had experienced more in her lifetime than anyone else would care to. She had watched the rise and fall of small rebellions, crushed under the foot of the Empire. Seen her people hunted and killed until their numbers weren’t even fractions of what the great tribe of warriors once was. Chaos and bloodshed, hiding and waiting, had become as normal as breathing to her. That’s not to say she missed the many good things that happened. 

The sounds of foundlings and young ones as they ran through the halls of the covert, not yet burdened by the responsibilities of adulthood, acted as a reminder that her people were still alive. And there was no greater sense of peace to be had then when they would all meet in the karyai and dine together like the family they were. 

Well, except for her forge. 

Her forge was a sacred place. Not only for her but for the others as well. It was here that the most important and private of discussions were held. Talks about individuals as well as the coven as a whole. Who would go out and hunt, what responsibilities would be given to who, and where they would go for their next supply run to get food and medicine. It was important that they never went to the same place too many times, least someone followed them back, and the amount always had to be different as to not let in on their numbers.

All these choices, all this planning, was run through her. Their Armorer. Their Alor. They trusted her with their lives, leaning on her as an elder would a walking stick. Despite the immense pressure put on her, she never let it show. Never asked for anything in return. Seeing her people happy was enough to keep her strong, and looking towards the future instead of the horrors of the past.

Besides, when she watched the bigger picture, it left the others able to focus on the smaller things. Namely the continuation of their tribe, which they were doing an outstanding job on if her current project was anything to go by.

The three pieces she was working on would fit together perfectly. Though each their own unique piece, they were all made from one base ore.

The mother would come to possess the intricate dagger currently sitting off to the side, being highly skilled in close quarter combat it would serve her well. The handle of the blade would slide smoothly in the bottom of her eagle-eyed riduur’s blaster, and make it even more dangerous than before. The weapon would have no weaknesses, each piece supporting the other, and be usable in any scenario. Of course they would still need a way to be locked in place. Something that would make the connection between the two weapons stronger. The insignia would be worn by the child until they died, and then given to their closest of kin, be it friend, lover, or child. It was of the mother’s clan, which they would all take the name of, and the metal ranicor already shone with a radiant pride as she pulled it from the blue flames, quenching it the basin of oil beside her.

It would fit at the juncture, locking the weapons in place with an unbreakable bond. 

The two adults would present each other with the weapons, a symbol of their promise to protect one another both in and out of battles. Then, together, they would tie the insignia to the child with a leather thread. The only addition would be a Mythosaur skull, which they would receive should they take up the creed of the Mandalorian. If not, they would still bear the mark of their clan and wear it with pride.

It was hard work, but the Armorer would do it all over again in a heartbeat. After all, the exchanging of vows between two Mandalorians was enough cause for a celebration, but for the same couple to have a claiming ceremony of a foundling at the same time? It had sent the enter tribe into a nest of bustling activity in preparation. The elders were particularly excited, constantly coming in to inform her of any updates or changes. 

It was one of them that she had expected when she heard footsteps enter her forge, not the young warrior she was faced with when she turned around.

“What can I help you with, child?” For a young Mandalorian such as himself to enter without invitation or a offering to the tribe, it must be of grave importance.

He remained kneeling as he spoke, head bowed in respect to his Alor.

“Alor, I have heard troubling news during my patrol. A matter I fear has to deal with the pride of the Mandalorian name.”

Underneath the helmet, her brows furrowed though he could not see it. From his tone, he seemed almost hesitant to deliver the news, and she waited silently for him to continue.

“There...there’s been word that another possess the armor of a Mandolrian a few parsecs over on the moon of Quilon.” He swallowed thickly, audible even through the modulator, before continuing. 

“Someone not of any tribe or clan, nor a foundling or anyone who claims our identity.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and the Armorer couldn’t blame the heat rising within her on the fire she had been previously toiling over for so many hours without issue. Though she concealed it well, any who knew her, who could tell by the way her helmet tilted up or how her shoulders squared slightly, knew that she was absolutely furious.

“Then we must retrieve it immediately.” 

“Of course, Alor. Which of the warriors would you like me to retrieve so they may be briefed.”

“None.” She replied, hooking her tools into her belt, moving to grab her cloak from it’s hook, where it had been previously gathering dust.

“Alor?” He questioned. She had told him that they would retrieve it, but if she wanted none of the warriors then how would they?

“It is time that people are reminded of who we were. Who we are. Though we remain hidden in our covert, we are not weak. We bide our time until we once again rise.”

She tucked an extra blaster into her belt, though she knew the weapon would come second to her hammer. If it turned into an altercation of shots rather than strength, she would be prepared.

“I will retrieve it myself, and make an example of those that thought they could tarnish our name.”

With that she was gone, stalking down the maze of corridors on a warpath. Everyone who saw her coming was quick to jump out of the way. If there was one thing more dangerous than an angry Mandalorian, it was an enraged Armorer.

__________________________________

Landing the ship just outside the town, the Armorer followed the coordinates given to her before leaving. 

Just like every other planet in their system, Quilon was nothing special. Another small rock in space abandoned by the Empire and left to be overrun by bandits. Though their presence here was even more prevalent than on Nevarro. 

She paid no mind to the eyes that followed her from the shadows, hidden under masks and hats and behind drinks as she made a direct line to the center bar.

The man behind the counter was an aged Weequay, his already wrinkled skin dull but still showing the strength that lay in the muscle underneath. Though old, he was clearly someone who could still hold his own against any patron who had too many glasses of brandy.

He had no hesitance in walking up to her, despite clearly knowing who she was a part of.

“What can I do for you?”

She placed a stack of credits on the counter, gently sliding the pile over to him.

“I’ve heard that someone here has the armor of a Mandalorian. I wish to know where to find them so that we may...talk.”

The Weequay picked up the pile,clinking the metal as he tested the weight before looking back towards the Armorer.

“A matter of great importance for you, I’m sure. However, the person you seek is also of great importance.”

Silently, she reached into her pouch and retrieved a few more credits, the clinking sound they made as they were deposited with the others into his waiting hand causing a smile to stretch his face, revealing a number of missing teeth.

“You’ll find your person on the far west side of town. The shop will be located just a bit out. Had to relocate it with all the noise bothering the townsfolk.” He laughed, turning back to his other patrons as he deposited the money. “Just follow the cursing.”

Twenty minutes and another exchange of information later, the Armorer found herself in front of a shop reading ‘Galactic Metalworks’.

If she had been angry before, she was positively fuming now. For someone who was supposed to have an understanding and appreciation for all things forged, the fact that they would have Mandalorian beskar, undoubtedly knowing its importance and what is signified, was the ultimate insult.

She could only hope that they would have enough sense not to have tempered with the armor, else she would have to hold herself back from killing them too quickly.

She walked through the door, pulling the fabric flap aside as she stepped inside. Instantly she was greeted with the sight of a surprisingly organized space, with weapons of all kinds lining the walls and a case displaying more decorative items sitting just behind what she assumed was the front counter.

There was no one in sight, prompting her to move further into the shop. As she passed, she couldn’t help but admire the works as she went. Though more elegant than what she would have done with some, there was no doubt about the quality of each item. Every blade, trigger, and handle was carefully shaped and sharpened, each having a softness that one would not expect of such weapons. It seemed to be the artist's signature stamp, present in everything she saw.

He attention was drawn away from the shining metals as a loud, and rather brash, string of curses flowed from the back of the shop. Once again reminded of her reason for coming here. The Armorer walked past the counter and its items, following the sounds of metal being hammered around the corner to reveal an open aired forge. 

There you stood, in all your soot stained and sweaty glory, cursing like a Trandoshian pirate as you inspected the item before you. A crude imitation of a helmet, she realized, though the eyes were horrendously off center and uneven, and being far too long for any but a Kaminoan to wear without hitting their shoulders. 

Were you really the same person who had made all the items out front?

No. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that. She was here for business.

The intention was for her to take you by the element of surprise, leaving no room for a fight with the point of her hammer pressed into the vulnerable skin above your carotid. That was thrown out the window before she could even reach for the weapon as you quickly turned around, eyes locking onto her and going wide before frantically backpedaling. 

As luck would have it, the hammer you had been previously using was knocked from its stand and clattered to the floor, being stepped on and causing you to tumble.

Narrowly missing falling into the forge itself, your head still cracked painfully against its stand and your vision went black. By the time it cleared enough for you to stop seeing stars and your brain to process what had just happened, you found the very person who had startled you into such a state standing above you, feet on either side of your hips as a hammer was pointed dangerously at your face.

“H-hey!” You managed to stutter out, still dizzy and most likely concussed. “No need for that!”

Holding your hands up in an act of surrender and defense, should they still decide to attack, you balanced your weight onto your elbows despite the way it sent your head spinning.

They said nothing, only staring down through their owl-shaped visor as the golden shine of the helmet cast rays of brilliant light around the forge. Despite the situation, you could help but admire the stunning craftsmanship of the piece with envy. Each spike, every curve, was so beautifully done.

“I know you’re here for the armor, and I can get it for you! It’s right here!”

The Mandalorian remained still for a moment, contemplating, before moving back enough to let you get up, exchanging their hammer for a blaster, keeping it trained on your figure as you slowly rose and moved to the far wall.

Producing a key from beneath your apron, you moved one of the many boxes and unlocked a hatch hidden beneath. From there, you produced a chest that had yet another lock on it, setting it on your workbench and placing the key beside it. Backing away with your hands held up one again, the Mandalorian moved closer to the chest.

Hidden under the helmet, you couldn't see the way her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, laced with a hint of curiosity. You had gone through quite the effort of hiding it. Without your guide she might not have found the hatch, which had blended so well into the floor that when you had first moved the box she hadn’t seen it even with the filters of her visor. Why give it up so easily when you could have easily denied even having it in the first place, and no evidence to say otherwise?

Unlocking the box, she was even more surprised by what she found inside. While keeping a watch on where your figure had backed into the corner, she began shuffling through each item, peeling back layer after layer of fabric until she had constructed a full suit of beskar.  Not only was it stored with such care, the metal skillfully wrapped to prevent one item from damaging another if jostled around, but it appeared to have been freshly cleaned by a polish well known and used almost exclusively by smiths. It was meant to bring out the best shine and remove any scuff to increase the appeal and chances of someone buying the item.

“Where did you get this.” She put the items back in their case, closing it before turning back to where you were, blaster now lowered to her hip but ready to raise and fire in an instant.

“Bought it from some pirates who stopped by here to refuel.” You squeaked out. Despite knowing that all Mandalorians were warriors, you were still surprised to hear a woman's voice come from the helmet. The way she carried herself with such confidence and strength, you could only imagine the prestige and skill she had to back it up.

“I would have returned it sooner, but you guys are kind of hard to find.” You attempted to joke, letting out a nervous laugh as you shakily smiled. “I tried to keep it on the down low as much as I could to keep others from trying to come and take it. Paid a kid to let it slip when he saw one of you at a cantina you’re known to frequent.” 

The Armorer tilted her head slightly, still not believing you completely.

“Why not sell it, or melt it down for your own use?” She gestured to the space around you, at all the projects currently displayed or were waiting to be finished.

Your own brows knitted in confusion, as if you couldn’t believe why she was asking you that, and in reality you couldn’t.

“Well, I respect you too much.” Your shoulders shrugged lightly. “Growing up, my father told me all the stories of your culture, your people and what the armor meant to you. How it was more than just a piece of equipment, that it was like an extension of your own body and identity. Rather poetically, he would always put it.”

A small laugh made its way past your lips, taking the Armorer by surprise.

“If he could have met one of you and studied the armor he would have died of happiness. Probably would have even sworn an oath and donned the armor himself if he had the chance, no hesitation.”

Any thoughts of ill intention from before were reduced to nothing in the Armorer’s mind. The way you had spoken so fondly when describing your admiration for her culture, the same way you had when speaking of your father, was so gentle and sincere. Even if you had a helmet like hers she would have been able to tell just by your voice.

“You have my thanks for keeping it in such good condition until we were able to collect it. I know my people would share my sentiment if they were here.” She dipped her head in thanks, missing the blush that spread across your face at the action.

“It was no trouble at all, really! I hope you don’t mind but I did study it before hiding it away.” You nodded to the crude helmet she had found you swearing at when she had first entered. “As you can see, my attempts were less than successful. It’s like my father always said; If I could make armor the way I could make everything else, I would be far too dangerous.”

The Armorer silently agreed. If the display in the front of the shop was anything to go by, if you were able to make armor then you could potentially even give her a run for her credits.

“You are quite skilled in your craft. It would be a sight to see how you would interpret your own armor.”

“Rather poorly.” You laughed once again, and the Armorer found herself straining to hear its cheerful air, much to her own embarrassment.

It was time she left. She had gotten what she had come for, so there was no reason for her to stick around any longer. The more time she was away from the covert the more worried she became, mentally berating herself for being so ill-tempered and short sighted to have stormed here right away without thinking much of how the others would fare without her presence. Paz should keep a good handle on things, but it was still best not to be gone much longer.

Before she could excuse herself though, you had dropped the helmet you had previously been sourly glaring at and focused back on her, excitement evident as a bright gleam shone in your eyes. 

“You must have come quite a way to get here! Please, allow me to compensate you for having to come out to such a place.”

The Armorer tried to argue, to explain that it hadn't been a problem and that the beskar being back where it belonged was enough, but you wouldn’t listen, pushing her to the front of the store and practically demanding that she choose at least one of the items to take with her.

“They are all so well crafted. I could not even begin to know where to choose.”

Humming, you closed your eyes in thought before bounding back towards the forge, yelling over your shoulder for her to keep browsing while you went looking for something.

So she did, walking up and down and displays, taking in all the weapons and items as she duly noted that your leather work seemed to be just as good as your smithing if the wrapped handles and weapons holsters were anything to go by. Any choice that she made would make a fine addition to their armory, and Paz would be overjoyed with each item, though she made a mental note not to let him learn of your shop. The last thing she needed was him coming here and spending all the tribe’s money on your works, undoubtedly scarring you with his sheer size and gruffness as well.

It was in the middle of her browsing that a flash of color caught her eye. Many of the metals you worked with were the same shades of grey and black, even the occasional gold. But there, amongst the sea of cold steel in the display case, was the warmth of bronze. She moved closer despite knowing that nothing she would find there would be beneficial for the tribe. It was as if it were a magnet though, pulling her closer by the metal covering nearly every part of her.

The item was less flashy than those surrounding it, simple and to the point, if jewelry could be described that way. The charm was a small rectangle, no longer than an inch and less than a quarter of which thick. In elegant and delicately etched letters was the word ‘loyalty’. Nothing else.

“I never took you for someone to appreciate jewelry.”

She started, helmet looking up to see you coming back from your forge. In your hands was a cloth, wrapped around what could be anything.

“I was admiring the work. The detail is remarkably clean despite its size.”

“It's been here a while. Not many people come here looking for something other than weapons, and those who do usually want something a bit more eye catching. One of my favorite works though.”

Putting the item down, her attention turns to the bundle you’ve placed on the table. Carefully, you unwrap the fabric to reveal the blade underneath. The blade itself is silver, coming to a spearpoint tip without so much as a chip. It’s longer than a normal throwing knife but shorter than one would typically consider a dagger to be. 

“My own take on a vibroblade. Easier to throw but still small enough to be easily concealed.” You hold it out, prompting her to take it.

The handle fit in her palm like a glove, as if it were molded specifically for her. The weight was perfectly balanced, allowing her to switch into a reverse grip and back with ease. At just a glance she could tell that the ridge was perfectly straight, ensuring a smooth flight through the air to its target.

“From my own collection. I figured if a Mandalorian was going to use it, then nothing but my best work would suffice.” You took the blade back, wrapping and binding it before placing it in the chest alongside the armor.

“Your hospitality knows no bounds. I am glad our meeting can end on such terms.” 

Waving your hand, you brush away the compliment despite the burning of your cheeks. Something you blamed on the heat of the forge.

“It was the least I could do. If you’re ever out here again, don’t hesitate to stop by. It can get rather lonely out here.” The forlorn expression you took on despite your ever present smile pulled at something inside the Mandalorian. Something she had not felt in a long time.

“Though don’t expect another free weapon if you do. I have a business to run after all.”

“Of course.” She said, allowing you to lead her to the door, holding the fabric as she passed through.

The whole walk back, her mind was on you. Even after she had boarded her ship and set course for home, arriving much quicker than she expected, she was thinking of you. The fact that there were still those out there that thought of and revered her people as you had, it gave her hope that not all creatures in the universe were against them.

The others were eagerly waiting for her arrival when she returned, following as she made her way back to the forge where she would store the beskar until it was decided what to do with it.

“Did you kill them and take their weapon as well?” Paz questioned when she handed him the blade, immediately pulling it out to admire the item.

She didn’t answer, focused on putting away her haul and moving to clean up her space. Leaving so quickly had resulted in a cluttered mess for her to come back to, and she once again found herself cursing her temper. Traveling far distances was something she didn’t often do, and the experience had left her tired, wanting nothing more than to retreat to her chambers and rest. She had to make sure everything was in order before she did so though.

“What’s this?” 

She turned, facing Paz as he held something in between his large fingers. She walked closer, eyes locking on to the item with laser focus.

Its familiar bronze sheen shone with a new brightness in the dim light, the etched words now hardly visible. She didn’t know when you had snuck it in, nor how you had when she had been right there the entire time.

So, for the first time in years, the Armorer took something for herself.

Plucking the small charm from his hand, she dismissed him, pulling the shutters of her shop down and leaving her mind to wander back to you as she caressed the cool metal, which did nothing to dampen the sparking embers in her kar’ta beskar.

__________________________________________________

In all honesty, you hadn’t been expecting the golden helmed Mandalorian to return to your shop. After nearly a month and a half of seeing not even the faintest glimpse of beskar you had given up hope of ever seeing her again. Sure, you were still hopeful, but when you entered your shop for some late night smithing and found the silent warrior leaning against the outside wall you nearly screamed. If it hadn’t been for the light of the flames reflecting off her helmet you wouldn’t have even realized she was there.

“I’m sorry. You just took me by surprise. I don’t get visitors this late.’’

She tilted her head, gesturing for you to continue her work and decline the offer for a seat. Nothing more was said as you got to work, soon shedding your long sleeves in favor of the cool night air that flowed in from the open wall, exposing your toned arms to the Mandalorian. It was something you had always been proud of, the muscle earned from years of bending and forming metal with precise blows from your hammer.

After a few minutes of watching, the woman began moving about the shop, taking her time to inspect every inch of the workspace. Your previous encounter hadn’t left much time for her to admire it. Even though it was far less sophisticated and more worn than her own, she still felt a sense of familiarity within its heat, finding herself wondering if you would have a familiar feeling in hers. 

The thought was banished almost as quickly as it appeared. After all, an outsider not only entering the covert, but the armory as well? One of the most pivotal places of their people? Preposterous. She didn’t even know why she was here in the first place. One moment she was relaxing in a rare moment of peace she was allowed, and the next she was aboard her ship, coordinates for your shop already typed in.

From the corner of your vision, you watched as she approached your latest project; the same armor you had been working on for weeks. A warmth rose to your cheeks when you saw her inspecting it, picking up the helmet and rotating it between her hands. 

The visor had been fixed a significant amount, she noted, but it was still shaky at best. Both sides were still uneven as they dipped down into a point at the chin, and anyone who wore it would have the top of their heads pinched by the too shallow curve of the top.

“Your work has improved.” She noted, voicing it more to herself than anything.

“Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I know it's not very good.”

“Not good no.” She admitted, setting the heavy helmet down and moving closer to where you were and setting every nerve on edge. “But there has been improvement, which shows that you’re learning.’’

Watching as you bent a thin metal pipe into shape, sparks flying everywhere as you didn’t even flinch when they landed on bare skin, then quenching it before moving over to your workbench and beginning to assemble it with an array of other items. She admired the speed and confidence with which you worked. Leaning against the wall, she watched as the weapon began to take shape under your hands.

Hours later, you were finished, a new blaster sitting before you. Just as beautiful and dangerous as the ones out front, with intricate vines crawling up the hilt and along the barrel, soldered on by your skillful hands before her very eyes.

“So, what can I help you with?” Turning towards the Armorer, you were surprised at how close she had gotten since you started, now almost touching and forcing you to crane your neck back to look her in the face.

“As much as I enjoy the company, I doubt you would come here without a reason.”

She remains silent for a moment, simply staring back at your smiling face before reaching around you to pick up the newly constructed blaster. The soft leather of her arm brushed your skin, and your nose picked up the familiar scent of forge iron from her gloves, causing your breath to catch in your throat as she turned the weapon in her hands.

“I have a proposition for you.” Her visor locked onto you, and despite the slight shiver of fear you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

“You will make weapons for my people and repair any that need it. Should we need it, we will park our ships in your space and you will pick up anything we can not.”

Your brows rose as she rattled off the list. Though you would be glad to do anything involving the warriors, just for the simple fact of being able to see them up and close, you still had to question why she would choose you. There was no reason for them to trust you, even if you had returned the armor.

The Armorer took it a different way, thinking you were expecting a form of payment for your work, which only made sense.

“Of course, your efforts will be compensated. Should you ever need passage or protection, we would be more than willing to offer aid.” She reached into her pocket, retrieving a small device that she held out. Upon taking it, you discovered there were only two buttons on the disk. It might look like random scrap metal to someone else, but your trained mind recognized it as an old communications device. 

“Press the blue when items are done or you request a meeting. The green is for emergencies only. Life or death situations.” You nodded, turning to tuck the device on a higher shelf where it would be within reach but not have the risk of being accidentally pressed, and somewhat hidden should any unwelcome guest find their way back here.

“And,” she hesitated a moment, unsure of her next words. With just one visit, you had managed to lower the carefully raised walls she had constructed, penetrating its defenses in a way not even her own people had. But now, here with you in the peace of the forge, her tongue was loose and brain foggy, as if the heat was melting away every shred of common sense and survival instinct she had carefully honed.

“I will teach you how to make armor. One that will protect you. Under my guide as the Armorer of my tribe it will be nothing less than perfect. Though you must swear to never trade or sell it.”

Your eyes widened a fraction at her words, hardly believing what she had just said. Not only had you just learned a new fact about the stoic woman, that she was a smith just as yourself, but she was offering to teach you how to make some of the best armor in the galaxy. No, the universe.

“It...it would be an honor.” You tilted your head down in respect, only to have her leather clad gloves grab your chin, the worn material forcing your gaze up to meet hers. Though there was no way for you to truly see her eyes, you could almost feel the flames burning within them.

“Ni kar'taylir gar will not disappoint ni, ni goron.” 

__________________________________________________

If you had thought that your father had been harsh when he was first teaching you how to smith, then he had graced you with a mother’s love in comparison to the Armorer, a name she had given you to call her after multiple visits.

“It just feels kind of cold to keep calling you Mandalorian, especially with all the time we spend together.” You had told her when she questioned why you asked. There were other reasons too, namely being that she had her own name for you. Instead of calling you by the name you had given her, she had taken to calling you ‘goron’ or ‘tracinya’, in that unknown language of hers. You could only hope they weren’t insults.

She visited once a month, always arriving just before dusk and leaving at dawn, two to three weapons heavier and the occasional small trinket you had made between meetings. All night you would be bent over your forge under her watchful gaze, correcting your technique and giving the occasional tip when you were struggling more than normal.

At the end of the night you would offer your work to be inspected, glowing at any praise only to deflate with every critique, and she was nothing if not someone who was unafraid to express her opinion.

The entire time you talked with one another. Well, you did most of the talking, but it still felt nice to have someone other than the stray loth cat listen to your ramblings.

Every once in a while she would answer one question or another, though she never divulged too much information on her own tribe, apart from mentioning another Mandalorian in passing or treating you with one of her occasional stories from the covert. You respected her wishes nonetheless, and as much as you wanted to ask her about everything you resigned yourself to the fact that she would only tell you what she wanted you to know. Mandalorians were still very much sought after prizes, and the secrecy would only make sense, as it ensured their survival.

She also never picked up a tool, as much as you wanted to see her work. Her instructions were always verbal, with the occasional instance where she would place her hands over yours, moving them the correct way and never failing to send your cheeks ablaze. Thankfully you could blame the color on the heat of the flames and not your own growing feelings. Those were a different issue entirely.

You don’t know when it started, almost like it had always been there, building until they attacked with a snap. The fact of the matter was that you harbored feelings for the armored woman, and you couldn’t deny them, no matter how much you tried to push them down. Alone for the most part, she was the only person to regularly visit your empty residence. Ever since your father had died and left you the successor of his forge, both the shop itself and the small living quarters behind it had felt empty, haunted by his memories that couldn’t be chased away with any amount of plants you bought or how much time you spent working. 

The first time she had accepted your invitation for a drink after much begging was the first time the space felt complete in ages, though she simply sat on one of the only two chairs in the living room, drink remaining untouched in her hand.

You were content hiding your feelings. As long as it meant that she would come around, you would do anything. Though you feared your meetings may soon come to an end. While you were overjoyed with the progress you had made over the months, constructing enough armor for a single arm and leg, as well as a chest plate. Not much longer and you would have your armor complete, and her reason for coming around would be gone. No longer would she need to teach you, and there was no reason she couldn’t send someone else from the covert to collect weapons and drop off items for repair once a month. You remember her mentioning how their top heavy infantry warrior had asked to meet you, and as interested as you were in meeting other Mandalorians you didn’t want it to be at the expense of seeing her.

“What’s got you so distracted tonight, tracinya’ika?” she asked after you dropped your current project, a shoulder pauldron, for the third time that night.

“Nothing!” You managed to squeak out, only to feel her familiar presence behind you, growing closer until you felt her brush against your back, making you spin around only to be pinned against your forge. The heat burned your back, hardly noticed by your brain as you processed how close she was standing now, arms on either side of your body and helmet tilted to look you in the eye. 

“Tell me.” Her voice crooned, smooth even through the modulators and nearly causing your knees to give out.

Swallowing thickly, you struggled to get the words out.

“When...when you're done teaching me, will I ever see you again?” It sounded stupid to say it out loud. Needy, like a child wanting their mother. It made you feel foolish, believing she surely thought you weak and helpless now.

You were prepared for her to laugh or scoff, to chastise you for how foolish you were being about such emotional connections. 

She did none of those.

“Ni tracinya, as long as you still desire my presence, I will come. Until you give the word, and even after, our destiny will be intertwined.”

You didn’t, couldn’t, say anything after that. It was as if she had stolen every thought from your head, every word from your mouth, leaving you nothing but a gaping fool, staring at the powerful warrior before you as the sound of the spotted owls filtered in through the open wall from the cool night air beyond.

It was the Armorer who finally broke the trance, stepping back and pausing for a moment before collecting the prepackaged weapons from the table. She said nothing as she left, heading back hours before the sun had even begun to rise and leaving you with nothing to do but stare after her, wondering what you had done wrong.

Unbeknownst to you, the cause of the Armorers swift exit had not been your fault, but her own. The entire way back to the covert she berated herself for how foolishly she had acted, allowing her body to move before her mind yet again, putting you in a compromising position. Even while berating herself, the memory of being so close to you stuck in her mind. The way your hair stuck to your damp skin, practically glowing in the light of the flames as you stared up with large, innocent eyes.

She had wanted to take you into her arms then and there. Her kind hearted little smith. So gentle and warm despite the rough profession and living conditions in which you found yourself in. It made her feel all the more guilty about having allowed herself to grow so attached to you, bringing along all the dangers that came with being associated with a Mandalorian as well as the knowledge she provided.

With each visit the feeling only grew, and by this point her draw to protect you as she would one of her tribe was just as strong. You were a weakness. A chink in her armor that she would allow none to exploit. 

Unfortunately, she was just one Mandalorian, and there was a limit to her strength, as she would soon find out.

_______________________________

It had been a week since your last meeting with the Armorer. The way she had practically sprinted out played on repeat in your head, reviewing every second leading up until then in search of what you could have possibly done. Yet no matter what angle you looked at it from, you always drew a blank.

Well, what else were you expecting from a Mandalorian. As skilled as they were apt to run off without an explanation. On to whatever adventure was next. You could only hope that she would have some explanation the next time.

‘Or at least the decency to apologize for being rude.’ you huffed, slamming the door to the cupboard after retrieving a cup. You settled down with a mug of warm bantha milk and honey, still fuming. Hopeful a bit of reading would calm your nerves for now, ignited every time you thought back on the encounter. Hopefully you would be calm enough not to give her an earful when you saw her.

The fire crackled in the hearth, the only source of sound as you skimmed through the pages of the novel you had picked up. A cheesy romance that you wouldn’t be caught dead reading in public, highlighting a lowly dancer attracting the attention of a bounty hunter who bought them for their own operations, only for the two to inevitably fall in love.

The rough and brash nature of the bounty hunter in the story reminded you of your own Armored crush, and you found yourself daydreaming more than reading as you finished off your drink. 

If only real life could be like that. You were all too aware of how unlikely it was though. Such a warrior could never have feelings for a simple smith like yourself, no matter how much she admired your works. 

Still, there was no harm in dreaming, right?

That’s exactly what you allowed yourself to do, curled up on the seat with the book drooping just as low as your eyes. The warmth of the fire and a stomach full of warm bantha milk only helped the progression of sleep along, lulling you into a sense of security as the light humming outside grew.

That’s how the first shock wave found you, knocking you from content to the floor as it rattled the entire shop.

You scrambled to your knees, dazed and confused, unable to make sense of what had just happened before the next hit. This was much closer, rattling the windows and knocking items from the walls. Even from here you could hear the sound of metal clanging as weapons and trinkets were thrown from their shelves.

Above the ringing, just barely, you processed the sound of fighters as they blazed overhead.

The Empire, you realized with a chill. You had heard rumors of them doing this, decimating entire towns and villages in the dead of night while everyone slept. That was only for those who were suspected of housing rebels or acting as supply lines though! The most you ever got out here was the occasional ship stopping to refuel or gather supplies, which was done so quickly and infrequently you wouldn’t even know they had been here.

Now wasn’t the time to question why you had been targeted. Now was the time to act.

Stumbling to your feet, you ran to the only option of help you had. The shock wave of each sending another small tremor through the ground and causing you to stumble as dust rained down from the ceiling. Dimly, you could hear the shouts of the village as those still alive realized what was happening.

The transmission disk sat in the same place it always was, thankfully not knocked to the floor and hidden in one of the many small crevices of your now disastrous shop. Tools and metals of all types lay scattered about, creating a minefield across the floor for you to navigate and attempt to not trip.

She was the only one that could help you. There were no friends, no family. No one who visited outside of her. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting her to do. Take you to another planet that the Empire hadn’t marked for destruction? But what would you do once you got there. Your skills were that of a blacksmith. Even if she helped you to escape for now and come back, who would be left for you to sell to? As much as the thought of abandoning the forge you had grown up in hurt, there would be no profit in staying. If there was any place to stay at that is.

Still, you ripped the item from its shelf, frantically pressing the ill-fated green button and watching as a loading signal popped up. It jumped in small increments at an agonizingly slow pace, leaving you to watch helplessly as the distress signal transmitted.

Amidst the chaos and adrenaline, a flash caught your eye.

The armor you had been working on for the past few months sat openly displayed on the worktable, left over from when you had been tinkering with it earlier. It wasn’t yet finished, but there was no time better than now to test it out. They might have tie fighters in the sky, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any troops on the ground to ensure there were no survivors, and there was no way in hell you were going out without a fight.

So, while the message continued loading, you stumbled over and yanked on the equipment, cursing each time your hands fumbled with a strap or you dropped a piece. By the time you managed to get all of what you had finished on, as well as the half-worked pauldron and grabbing the closest weapon, the bar had only reached seventy two percent.

You watched with bated breath as it continued to climb, praying to the maker for it to finish already. You didn’t know how far away the Armorer was, but hopefully she would get here in time. To give your body a proper burial and out of the reach of scavengers if nothing else.

You never got to see it finish.

The agonizingly loud and now familiar scream of fighters your only warning before they unload their ammunition onto your home. It fell apart like paper, no match against the green energy beams as they took out whole sections of the ceiling and walls.

A flash of light, stars from the night sky now peering down from the open ceiling, before you were buried under the rubble. It pressed down with seemingly the weight of a moon, forcing every ounce of air from your lungs and preventing nearly any oxygen from entering as you desperately tried to pull in more air, only to choke on the thick dust that permeated and covered everything. Every movement brought a fresh wave of agony tearing through your body, and you could taste iron in the back of your throat. A sign of internal bleeding, if the stabbing pain in your side wasn’t enough. Your unarmored arm also hung limp and uselessly. Broken.

The chunk of rock that currently pinned and left you defenseless  was far too heavy to move with both arms, let alone one, leaving you scrambling nowhere to get out. The very building that had protected and provided you shelter, a place to work and thrive, had turned into your own personal death trap.

It was getting harder and harder to breath. Your movements became slower and weaker with every move until, finally, they slowed to a stop, left weakly grasping at the rubble around you. Everything had now gone silent. Not even the sound of fighter jets could be heard.

You were completely, utterly, alone. That’s how you were going to die.

Alone.

No tears escaped as you set your jaw, accepting your grim fate. You had no regrets in life. None that could be rectified by living any longer anyways. You had created a great deal of beautiful and skillful items. Whoever happened to stumble upon your shop's ruins would surely have themselves a treasure trove. 

The one thing you found yourself wishing was that there would be someone to mourn you when you were gone. To look upon memories and smile with fondness as you had with your own father’s passing.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Your name would fade into nothing, just as insignificant and unknown as a shout into the empty space of the stars above. Stars that you would never be able to see.

It became darker, black spots dancing across the edges of your vision and growing. With one last shuddering breath, your body gave out, succumbing to its injuries as your consciousness faded.

Mere feet away from your impromptu crypt, the cracked yet unbroken transmitter blinked weakly. Two words flash and flicker across its screen. 

‘Message Sent’

___________

Mandoa translations (Roughly. I did my best)

Baskar-armor

goron-blacksmith/metalworker

Ni kar'taylir gar will not disappoint ni, ni goron.- “I know you will not disappoint me, my blacksmith.”

kar’ta beskar.- Iron heart, center of their chest armor

Karyai- gathering place for relaxation/eating, center of the home

Tracinya-flame

Ika-little

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

How about Silas (Fates) and Raphael (3H)? In Silas' supports with Kaze, Kaze is secretly giving him more food as thanks for saving him (like refilling Silas' soup bowl when Silas isn't looking). I thought this could continue unnoticed until Silas can't fit into his armor. For Raph, I figure he's the type of person whose solution to everything is MOAR GAINZ. So what if Balthus bests him in practice combat, so Raph ups his caloric intake but ends up putting on a layer of chonk (and a big gut)?

editing? dont know em--

After their conversation, Silas believed he had gotten through to Kaze about how he didn’t need to pay him back for helping him against that Faceless -- especially since the other man had similarly ended up saving the Nohrian knight not too long after. As far as Silas was aware, they were even and just helping each other out as comrades.

But, on Kaze’s end, wanting to repay the knight for his deeds was just one part of why he was sneakily adding on to the other’s meals. Yes, he was grateful for the rescue, and he took repaying that debt very seriously, but that had been paid back in full by now. No, there was something else that kept Kaze by the silver haired knight’s side, but it wasn’t quite something he knew how to explain, so he let everyone else simply assume that they’d bonded and become good friends.

Which wasn’t wrong, per se, Kaze did actually enjoy Silas’ company. He just...also greatly enjoyed watching the other man eat to the point of being perhaps a little too full.

In Hoshido, especially if one was in the military, such indulgement wasn’t something tolerated. A soldier must be primed for a fight at all times, so while meals were always nourishing and flavorful, there wasn’t often such excess given to those in their station. From what he knew of Nohr, food was not as bountiful as it was in Hoshido, though it was safe to assume that the higher class was given access to the best regardless. Perhaps that was what drove some part of the ninja to give Silas more. Was it not good to give more to those who had been lacking in the same boons as your country’s riches?

But, even that didn’t ring ultimately truthful. At least, not entirely. It, of course, made him feel good to make sure his companions were all taken care of, but there was something else that lurked behind those good intentions. Some morbid interest in watching -- either from close by or afar, both were simple enough to accomplish with his skills in stealth -- another eat and eat, unaware of how much they were stuffing into themselves until something in their brain finally clicked and told them to stop, only it was too late already and they had to stay where they were, bloated and groaning.

It made Kaze flustered and just a little pent up merely thinking about it.

So, he kept up his activities in secret, adding on extras to Silas’ meals and observing -- both going unnoticed..

---

It had been some weeks now since Kaze’s focus on Silas had started. As someone trained to be both extremely observant and incredibly stealthy at the same time, it was a little baffling to see that the knight...had not noticed anything different about his meals. Kaze knew exactly how much he had been adding -- never too much at once, so as to not raise any unnecessary suspicion, slowly giving more and more when it seemed like the other had unknowingly grown accustomed to the portions -- and he was always cautious not to overdo it, but it was still a bit of a surprise that the Nohrian was still so unawares. It wasn’t a bad thing -- certainly not for Kaze -- and it spoke to Silas’ trust and camaraderie with everyone else in Corrin’s army. If it were anything serious, Kaze would be concerned for the knight’s willingness to so easily trust, but it was endearing all the same, and made curiosity gnaw at the back of his mind at how far he could go and still get away with this unnoticed.

Silas’ obliviousness towards what and how much went into his mouth also seemed to extend towards himself. While diligent in his training and duties, he wasn’t very preoccupied with how he looked. He cared where it mattered, of course; he didn’t want to reflect poorly on his dear friend, Corrin, and always looked presentable. But he seemed to have no qualms about himself.

So, where Kaze noticed the way his riding trousers now clung to the curves of his fuller ass, or how his fine shirts pressed cozily against the slight roll of chub that had appeared at his lower belly, Silas seemed perfectly happy not registering that anything was different. And that knowledge only made the heat inside Kaze grow, knowing that this was something of a perfect storm for him. If he weren’t so naturally mild mannered and quiet, Kaze would almost say the thought of what this could turn into made him giddy.

But, it was still early on in this little game, and there was still every chance that it would end when Silas took note of the changes.

---

“Whew, I must be coming down with something, because I just can’t seem to cool off!” Kaze overheard Silas one day, his attention immediately drawn away from his current task.

It was easy enough to fake taking inventory of their supplies to eavesdrop on the knight’s conversation.

“We do have warm summers here in Hoshido, perhaps you are simply not yet used to them, my friend,” came Ryoma’s sure and steady voice, his tone amused.

Kaze darted his gaze over to the two, who must have been finishing up some early morning sparring before the heat of the day got too bad. Prince Ryoma was, indeed, in good spirits; his expression mirthful as he exchanged some more words with Silas. Where there was some color to the prince’s face from the exertion of mock battle, it was clear he was fairing far better than his partner. Silas had at some point forgone his shirt due to the heat, giving Kaze a fantastic chance to get a good look at the effects his additions were having on the other man. The silver haired knight had never been particularly outstanding when it came to muscle mass, but he was at least a little above your average.

But now, where there had just been a small roll of flesh at his middle, there was a rather proper belly blossoming. That little bit of softness had risen like dough into a chubby midsection, still firm from his activities but clearly showing that he’d been getting well-fed lately. Where his belly curved out at the navel, it had the cutest bounce when he moved. It wasn’t anywhere near large enough to knock into his thighs yet, but it did create a nice rolling slab of chub that pinched in at his sides if he moved a certain way. But, Kaze was sure that when the man sat, that soft curve of his lower belly likely had started to brush the plushness of his thighs. His upper body was still fairly defined, though his pecs were rounding out nicely and there were some softer edges coming in on his upper arms and his face.

Well-fed.

That description sent a wave of heat down the back of the ninja’s neck, his unnoticed gaze burning hot as he took in every curve and rounded edge. Silas’ pale skin was flushed a delightful pink, both from the sun and the physical activity of getting in some training. Kaze wondered, vaguely, if he were to grab hold of that soft, pink belly, how would it feel? If he were to caress it gently, would the other even notice? Would he finally see, if he were to squeeze?

No, that would risk ruining the game when it was just picking up.

---

Kaze decided to add another layer to their little game, even if Silas was unaware that they were playing one. It had proven far too easy to keep adding food to the other man’s meals, so on top of constantly making those meals bigger, Kaze began coming up with excuses for giving Silas food in between the usual meal times.

It was easy enough to convince the other man to eat something after training sessions. After such physical strain, it was best to replenish the body with some food, was it not? Silas never seemed to notice that Kaze himself didn’t adhere to this supposed fact, or that the portions of food he was being given were far larger than needed to replace whatever his body had burned through while training. It was a little more difficult to get him to eat when he was out on patrols, as he stated that he wanted to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice if he needed to, but if he were on late night patrols, Kaze could more easily coax him into taking a small break to eat -- especially if he agreed to keep an eye out while the knight dug into his food.

More and more, any free time Silas had seemed to be taken up by food. He was a frequent face at the mess hall, and even when he wasn’t there at meal times, he always conveniently seemed to have food on hand -- and constantly stuffed in his chubby face.

And it was all because of Kaze. He was there, every step of the way, watching and providing and biding his time. As deliciously excruciating as the wait had been, Kaze was ready to claim his prize.

“Hey, Kaze…,” Silas hesitantly broached, his round cheeks flushed red -- from embarrassment, or from huffing and puffing his way through the camp, Kaze could only guess at. “I have a little bit of a problem. Well...Little is probably not the right word--”

Kaze inclined his head, to denote that he was still listening to the knight ramble on, but he would privately admit, he was more focused on accounting for all the new weight that had settled in so well on the Nohrian’s frame.

For the most part, Silas was very well rounded; it gave him a pleasant, overall plush sort of look. His face was cherubic, with round, red cheeks and a softened jawline that dipped into a double chin that looked all too natural on his kind face. It hadn’t taken too long after Kaze had ramped up his feedings for Silas’ upper body to sort of catch up to the rest of him; his upper arms still clung to a slight firmness, but that also might have simply been from how tightly they were squeezed into the sleeves of the shirt he was currently wearing, his now rather hefty looking moobs similarly looking quite confined in his struggling shirt. He hadn’t even bothered -- or couldn’t, a thought that delighted Kaze -- done up the laces at the front, which left some of that pale, fat titfflesh free to jostle for an escape attempt that was truly only hampered by whatever integrity was left of this formerly well-fitting piece of clothing.

Of course, as his eyes traveled lower, it was clear to see that the shirt was...much less of a shirt, and more of a crop top that was just adequate enough to contain his moobs. Because, really, gloriously, Silas’ gut could no longer be contained by something so trivial. His upper belly was round and almost taught -- likely from the large breakfast he’d spent a good two hours shoveling into his hoggish mouth -- becoming a perfect resting shelf for his squishy breasts. While his lower belly, separated from the upper by a swelling roll of fat, hung lower and softer on his expanded frame. It quite easily draped over the other man’s crotch, even while standing, and almost every heavy breath or lumbering movement made it wobble just so. Stretch mark covered love handles fought for room at his sides, perched precariously atop widened hips that had the most luscious curves to them thanks to plentiful food and all of the horse riding that had given him such a nice form to begin with.

His thighs were nothing short of powerfully built, even with the thick layer of lard that now encased them. And, my...his ass really was something to behold; a beautiful bubble butt, straining the ass of his trousers so dearly, Kaze felt like he could almost hear the seams splitting as they stood there.

“--So, do you...do you think you could help?”

The ninja blinked, coming out of his hungered staring to just catch the tail end of whatever Silas had been talking about.

“Yes, of course. I will do my best to aid you, my friend,” he responded swiftly, not even realizing what he was agreeing to until the other man dragged him over to the neatly organized set of his armor.

Oh. Oh, well now, this was better than he could have hoped, really. Silas had recruited him to do what he’d been desiring for months now.

“I’d do it myself, of course, but...uh, I’ve been having some recent trouble reaching around to some of the straps and buckles,” Silas chuckled nervously, his already flushed face seeming to go a deeper red at this admission.

Ah, so he’d finally noticed just how large his eating habits had made him? Fascinating that it had taken so long, but denial could be a powerful thing.

“It’s not a problem,” Kaze assured in a smooth tone of voice, waiting for Silas to start attempting to put on his armor. The breastplate and backplate came together via leather straps at the shoulders and sides, tightened and held in place by rather standard looking buckles. As Silas held the plate armor in place, Kaze tried to secure the straps. And, truly, he did try -- where was the fun if he didn’t get to see what an absolute mess the other man had made of himself with his lack of control, aided by his own pampering and spoiling with food and treats aplenty? He tugged on the straps as hard as he could, smiling softly to himself at the little noises Silas’ tried to stifle at the jostling and how the knuckles of his fingers couldn’t escape grazing or sinking into the warm flesh of the knight’s sides. If he pulled both sides tight enough, he could get the straps to touch, but nowhere near close enough to actually secure them with the buckle.

Kaze couldn’t resist pinching at the silver haired man’s love handles, apologizing and excusing it off as the metal from the buckle catching him by accident.

“It’s no use, is it…?” Silas sighed, cheeks puffing out just a little more from the simple act.

Kaze gave him a sympathetic look as he helped him remove the much outgrown piece of armor, his hand coming to pat the other on the back. “We can always get you refitted. It might have a slightly different style, but our blacksmiths are quite skilled; I’m sure they could replicate it to your tastes, if you so wish.”

The Nohrian seemed about to say something else, but Kaze chose now to make his kill, as it were. His tone and demeanor not shifting from gentle and comradely, he very brazenly brought a gloved hand to the other’s stomach, his thumb hooking easily into Silas’ navel as he grabbed a handful of chub and gave him an exploratory squeeze. It was just as soft as he’d imagined, but there was a firm layer to it too, if he dug his fingers in hard enough, that he found to be quite pleasant. A nice balance.

Humming softly to himself, Kaze continued his tactile exploration while urging them both forward in the direction of the mess hall. “I would greatly desire to see how long it would take you to outgrow a larger set of armor…”

If Silas could keep from giving in to Kaze’s offerings of food long enough to even have another set made before he ate his way out of it, that is.

Silas, sputtering and doing his best to keep up with the revelation, didn’t object to the idea nor did he fight against where Kaze was leading him.

[lucientelrunya]

Like a lonely house pt 2

Chaotic me deciced to switch back to present tense (already edited part one) and I'm still quite clueless how to tag. But it gave me so much joy to see people enjoy my little idea.

Please feel free to point out any mistakes you spot, I'm always trying to improve my writing and stop myself from agonizing over every sentence and constantly rewrite everything...

I think Zhang Rishan might be a tad bit dramatic in this part, but I hope you enjoy this anyway :)

The blackness and cotton in his head only slowly recede, permeated by the sound of muffled voices Zhang Rishan knows. The voices carry an urgency, an impalpable sense of importance that drags him back to consciousness with a sudden harshness. Still it takes more effort than it should to blink his eyes open and for a moment he is confused why there is a stone ceiling above him and why little white flakes are clinging to his lashes. He rubs at his eyes, his movement sluggish and his arm feels heavy, a dull ache that causes the memories to come rushing back. The strange tomb, the force controlling him, the ritual, the pool - Ba Ye. It’s not a dream - nightmare? - or at least not all of it and he sits up way too quickly for his body to adjust. Thankfully someone grabs his shoulders - again - to keep him upright.

It takes Zhang Rishan another long moment to blink away the black spots and recognize Luo Que beside him, offering him an already open bottle of water, which is considerate and much appreciated. He really needs to drink something, at least to get the taste of copper and something he can’t even begin to describe out of his mouth. The strange pale liquid has dried all over his skin and clothes like some sort of clay, cracking and peeling off in flakes and powdery dust when he moves. He opts to ignore it for now, content with getting it off his lips and out of his eyes.

Luo Que doesn’t say anything and patiently waits for him to gulp down most of the bottle before he sits back again, letting go of Zhang Rishan’s shoulders and looking at him with a barely there question in his eyes. And, yeah, Zhang Rishan would like to know what’s going on here himself, thank you very much. With his vision mostly free of black spots and blurring edges he dares to look around him, having already spotted Zhang Qiling’s black clad legs next to him from the corner of his eye. He is lying on a sleeping bag right next to him, with Huo Daofu examining him quietly and unhurriedly.

And Zhang Rishan’s brain is still mushy enough to take a long moment to truly comprehend what he is looking at when he finds the source of the voices. Liu Sang and Pangzi arguing is not some rare occurrence (as he has learned in the last two days), although it's not really arguing and more of a friendly stage of bickering, but Liu Sang and Wang Pangzi arguing with Ba Ye is not normal, not in the least. So it really hasn’t been a dream or his imagination.

An illusion then, maybe? A hallucination, like the meteorite inside the tomb and Er Ye getting back his dead wife? Maybe he is still in the pool and all of this is just a hallucination? But back then the whole fake world had frozen once Ba Ye had started to doubt and Zhang Rishan is absolutely doubting the possibility of this being real. It feels too much like Er Ye’s illusion of getting Yatou back and Zhang Rishan has lived long enough to know that there is no way to truly bring a dead person back to life.

No one freezes and no one vanishes, not even when he puts his hand on his arm to push a thumb into the wound beneath the bandages and elicits a spark of pain that is absolutely and undeniably real. It quickly vanishes again, his body cataloguing it under ‘inconvenient but not life threatening’ and opting to ignore it like he had been trained. But it leaves Zhang Rishan fairly confident in his assumption that this is not an illusion.

He must have been staring, lost in his contemplation of what is real and what isn’t, because suddenly Ba Ye is turning towards him, a look of relief flashing over his face. “Lieutenant! You are awake! Please, please tell these people who I am!” He sounds worried but also a little irritated and whiny, and so much like the Ba Ye Zhang Rishan remembers. For a moment he allows himself to just watch Ba Ye come over and squat down in front of him. He had obviously tried to wipe his glasses off on his equally stained scarf resulting in smudged pale lines all over his glasses and his face.

And he has to fight the urge to reach out and touch, to convince himself that Ba Ye is real, because he has been dead and gone for almost 80 years. Even if they never found his body, even if he had been hidden somewhere by Qiu De Kao for whatever reason there is just no way for him to be alive right now, alive and the same, he is no Zhang, he has no qilin blood.

Wu Xie kneeling down beside him, half on Zhang Qiling’s sleeping bag, breaks the moment. “You know him” and although it’s not a question Zhang Rishan nods. He glances at Wu Xie, who looks worried but also curious and intrigued, always drawn to mysteries. Pangzi and Liu Sang come over, too, placing themselves behind Ba Ye like they are prepared to grab and restrain him if he tries anything, but they look at Zhang Rishan. With at least 5 pairs of expectant eyes on him, probably six, he has to squish the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness that wants to crawl out and drape itself all over him. Instead he consciously straightens his back, squares his shoulders and shifts to sit cross-legged.

He has no idea what’s going on here, no idea how to tell Ba Ye where or rather when he is now (because right now he can’t fight the acceptance that this is a living, breathing Ba Ye who just hasn’t aged a day) or what happened in the pool or if everything did really happen like he thinks. If that being had been there, in the pool and had granted him a wish he hadn’t ever put into words, had made a fleeting thought into a new reality. Each of them is looking at him like he has all the answers and he hates that he is sitting here on the floor of a dimly lit cave, on a sleeping bag someone else has rolled out for him, with bandages around his arms and feeling so utterly helpless. He can’t suppress the bitter thought that Fo Ye would have known what to do.

Taking a deep breath he decides to start with what he is sure of, which is the answer to Wu Xie’s “You know him”. “I do know this man, his name is Qi Tiezui, also known as Ba Ye”, and the name and the title should mean something to at least Wu Xie and maybe Huo Daofu, even if they obviously don’t recognize him from old photos. Maybe because they never paid attention to those pictures, which are faded and grainy compared to what even the simplest smartphone camera is able to capture nowadays or maybe because Ba Ye looks like he took a mud bath. Maybe both.

On to the second thing he is quite certain of: “As to what happened, I’m not really sure myself. As soon as I entered the tomb some force took over my body and I suppose Zhang Qiling's as well and we came to this cave to enact some kind of blood sacrifice ritual for whatever deity they are worshipping here.” No need to point out he had been meant to be the sacrifice, that bit is quite obvious, although he is not sure why Zhang Qiling is the one still unconscious then. “There was chanting, but I wasn’t able to understand it”, he adds, which makes Liu Sang nod at him. “Yeah, I heard you through the wall, but wasn’t able to identify the words either.”

Zhang Rishan considers asking why they hadn’t followed them into the cave and tried to stop the whole thing, if only to give him a little more time to try and find words for what happened after that, but he doesn’t have to voice his question. “Yeah, almost broke my damn nose trying to follow you two through that convenient little magic wall that suddenly turned into a real wall after you two went through, and we couldn’t find a mechanism or another entry or hear anything. Imagine our immense joy at hearing this idiot here say there’s ‘eerie chanting’!” Pangzi grumbles and there is no need for him to add that the use of some explosives had been on the table. Or had they used explosives?

“Did you blow a hole into the wall?” Zhang Rishan asks, eyeing a pile of broken stone in the vicinity of the wall, but Pangzi shakes his head. “Nah, I wanted to, but then the ground started to shake and - poof - the entrance was back and actually visible.” It takes Zhang Rishan another moment to realize the rubble is what’s left of the statue he had only glimpsed upon entering the cave. Had the earthquake destroyed it? Had it even been an earthquake?

Wu Xie humms beside him, following his line of sight for a moment before he points to the wall behind the rubble. “There are some murals depicting locals worshipping a deity that I have never seen before. But it seems to be for protection against droughts or bad harvests, your garden-variety-harvest-god to ensure plenty of food and the likes. Nothing that can bring dead people back to life.” Ah, right back to the burning question.

Ba Ye sputters quite helplessly at that. “Dead? What do you mean dead? Do I look dead to you? Lieutenant, what is going on here, who are these people?” Considering that Ba Ye’s face is still mostly covered in white it wouldn’t be that unreasonable to mistake him for a ghost. But beneath that he doesn’t look dead or like a walking corpse, he looks just like Zhang Rishan remembers him, just like the last time he had seen him before he had vanished. And he still has no idea how to tell Ba Ye that everyone he knows is dead. Well, everyone except Zhang Rishan.

“I’m Wu Xie, this is Wang Pangzi, Liu Sang, Luo Que and behind me are Huo Daofu and Zhang Qiling.” Wu Xie blindly pats Zhang Qiling’s lower leg when he says his name, his eyes never leaving Ba Ye’s face, gauging his reaction to two familiar family names. And Ba Ye doesn’t disappoint, confusion clearly written all over his face. He is mouthing ‘Wu’ and ‘Huo’ while his eyes scan Wu Xie’s face before he looks at Zhang Rishan with a mixture of confusion, incomprehension and helplessness.

“He is Wu Laogou’s grandson”, Zhang Rishan says softly, because their relation is the most obvious to emphasize how much time has passed and the most obvious in terms of resemblance, Ba Ye must have seen that. And Zhang Rishan holds his gaze until Ba Ye looks down, takes a deep breath, closes his mouth and lets himself plop back down to sit on the ground, his whole body curling inwards. This would be a lot to take in for everybody and Zhang Rishan would like to give Ba Ye a moment to compose himself without everyone else staring at him. There are things he hasn’t told them yet, but he is still not sure how to put any of that into words.

“Did the murals say anything about something being confined here?” Zhang Rishan asks Wu Xie, who just looks puzzled. “Confined? What do you mean?” And he really has to try and put it into words, there is no way around it, is there? He takes another deep breath through his nose. “For the ceremony I was kneeling in that pool and when the tremors started I fell into whatever liquid is in there, and it was like - like there was something in there with me. Like it was a living thing with a consciousness and whatever we did in that ceremony it set that thing free.” He can already feel some doubtful looks but nobody starts to interrupt him and Wu Xie actually nods thoughtfully like he can imagine that, so he continues: “It was communicating with me, not with words, more like with feelings and impressions,” and he just waits for Huo Daofu to interrupt him, to say something about blood loss and hallucinations, but he doesn’t, he just doesn’t - “It made very clear that it had been imprisoned here for whatever purpose and that it was just so very thankful that I set it free.”

Everyone is quiet, mulling over those words. There are still so many questions, like who or what had controlled them to enact this ceremony? Had it been the imprisoned being? Or something else? But why? And who had sealed the tomb? And why?

“So you set some ancient being free and someone from your past turns up. What if he is no human but that being in the shape of someone it saw while it was inside your mind?” Liu Sang questions, looking at Ba Ye thoughtfully who stops his calculations to stare back incredulously. “What? First I’m dead, now I’m some preternatural being? Let me tell you, I’m just a fortune teller!” He acts and sounds just like Ba Ye, but Liu Sang has a point, that being had looked into his mind, had probably had access to all his thoughts and memories. It makes his head hurt even thinking about it.

Pangzi and Liu Sang start bickering about how to test that theory, to find out if someone is human and it only gets more chaotic when Zhang Qiling wakes up and Wu Xie starts worrying over him, asking him how he feels and if he is alright while Huo Daofu tries to rule out a concussion. Zhang Rishan tries to ignore them for the moment, even though he would like to get Zhang Qiling’s version of the ceremony. He feels torn between the possible explanations for this situation, but why would some ancient being that had been trapped in a cave for centuries if not millenia take human form and stay with them? To play tricks on him? Or maybe-

“Lieutenant, if so much time has passed that the grandson of Wu Laogu is at least as old as I am, how come you haven’t aged a day?” Ba Ye’s question jolts him out of these thoughts. “It’s a Zhang-family-thing”, he answers, because Ba Ye already knows so much about their family that it should be enough. Ba Ye nods, visibly brightening at the answer, as if he had hoped for something along those lines. “So, why don’t we just ask Fo Ye for help to prove I’m just a normal human? I mean, if that being was in your head and knows what you know it doesn’t know everything about me.”

Of course he would think of Fo Ye as the answer to everything and of course Zhang Rishan has to say it now. He shakes his head slightly and forces himself to watch Ba Ye’s face and catalogue his reaction. “No. Fo Ye is not with us anymore.” It’s cruel, so cruel to tell him like this and Zhang Rishan hates it even more than he hates saying the words at all. Ba Ye’s whole face crumples but he visibly tries to hide his distress. “How on earth am I supposed to prove I’m just a normal human, then?” he bristles, obviously trying to distract himself with anger. “Tell me! What should I do!” Those last words are directed towards Pangzi and Liu Sang behind him who actually stop their bickering and have the grace to look embarrassed.

“Why would that being even want to stay here? What could be in it for... it?” Pangzi voices Zhang Rishan’s thoughts from before. “Maybe it needs help to leave the cave?” Wu Xie suggests, joining the conversation again after assuring himself that Zhang Qiling is fine aside from a cut on his forehead. “Or maybe it’s just lonely and looking for some company?” Huo Daofu throws in and Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if it’s meant to be a joke or a real suggestion. But if they are just casually throwing around theories he can add one, too.

“Maybe it’s an illusion.” Even if there is no meteorite around and even if he had set that theory aside before. Ba Ye inhales sharply at that suggestion and slaps Zhang Rishan’s knee a little harder than necessary. “Aiya! An Illusion? Does that feel like an illusion? Is there a meteorite around that you haven’t told me about? Shouldn’t you be able to tell the difference?” Ba Ye slaps him again and Zhang Rishan just lets him, flinching only a little. It makes Luo Que beside him tense noticeably, like he contemplates grabbing Ba Ye’s arm and stopping him from hitting his boss, but in the end he doesn’t move and just watches.

“Should I? I mean you were the one who realized it was an illusion back then, and you guided us out of it.” Ba Ye harrumphs at that, knitting his brows. “It’s not an illusion”, Wu Xie says and the certainty in his voice makes it easy to just accept it. After all Wu Xie had come with him and should be a real person, even if they stepped into some fake world at some point, just like Fo Ye, Ba Ye, Er Ye and Chen Pi had been real people who stepped into the meteorite.

“Thank you!” Ba Ye says, giving Wu Xie a small bow. “And if you let me, I can show you that I am perfectly capable of leaving this place all on my own.” Which leaves them with: a lonely godly being looking for company (or a bored godly being looking for some fun?) or the possibility that it is really Ba Ye.

For a moment everyone is quiet again and Zhang Rishan takes the chance to ask Zhang Qiling how he had experienced being possessed or remote controlled or whatever it had been. His answer is disappointingly simple and his experience almost the same as Zhang Rishan’s, except that he had not been in contact with another consciousness but had been knocked out really hard by something as soon as the cave had started to shake. Which confirms Zhang Rishan’s suspicion that there had been something with him in the pool.

He gets up, startling both Ba Ye and Luo Que with the sudden movement, making them stand up with him as if they are preparing to catch him again. It’s endearing and disconcerting at the same time and he opts to ignore the way it makes him feel for the moment, but tucks the feeling away to pick it apart later.

The pool is surprisingly dry and empty, but covered in the same white flaky residue both Zhang Rishan and Ba Ye are covered in, which is reassuring because it means there had been something before. For a moment Zhang Rishan just stares at the empty pool, trying and failing to find a hole or a crack in the stone through which the liquid could have vanished. Surely it did not just evaporate into thin air? His memory is not clear enough to dispel the thought that maybe the liquid had not vanished but changed its shape and made itself into a human being.

“Huh? Why is it empty?” Pangzi asks which makes Zhang Rishan release a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. “It wasn’t empty when you could get in?” he reassures himself, looking at the other man. “Hah! Wish it had been, do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of that stuff?” Pangzi snorts and points at the smudged edge of the pool, where a very visible track of white covers the ground all the way over to their sleeping bags. It also makes Zhang Rishan notice the white smudges all over Pangzis clothes only to find the man grinning at him when he looks up again. The corners of his mouth twitch involuntarily in quiet amusement and he nods his thanks, which makes Pangzi grin even more.

With the pool providing no answers at all Zhang Rishan walks over to the wall to look at the murals, soon joined by Wu Xie who points to the parts of the murals he had mentioned before. It shows a group of people in clothing Zhang Rishan has never seen building this tomb. Maybe some minority? They have no idea how old this tomb is, after all or how long it had been sealed. In the next part of the mural it almost looks like they are summoning the unknown god and not merely worshipping and some part of Zhang Rishan’s mind resonates with that thought. The ceremony looks just like what the two of them had enacted, one person in the pool and the other at the altar with a dagger. But it almost seems like the sacrifice on the mural dissolves into the pool, a thought he really doesn’t want to dwell on.

After that the mural gets quite confusing, depicting the statue that is broken now and people celebrating rich harvests, without any clear connection. He looks back at the picture of the god, tracing the faded lines with his fingers trying to recall everything the being in the pool had tried to tell him through thoughts and feelings and suddenly he understands. Or at least he thinks he does.

“They didn’t worship the god, they captured it and confined it in here because as long as it was here everything around it would be thriving, rich harvests, no sicknesses, people living long and full lives.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true and he finds Wu Xie nodding next to him. “So, you set that god free and as a gesture of thanks it returned a dead person from your past?” And Zhang Rishan knows dead people don’t come back to life, but this is a god they are talking about and it had made everything else grow, had kept people healthy and strong. Maybe it could do this too?

“I’m still not dead and I was never dead!” Ba Ye protests from beside him and reminds Zhang Rishan that he still doesn’t know what happened when Ba Ye vanished back then, how or when he died. He looks at him and contemplates asking just that but somehow he is afraid of the answer. “Maybe you died and you just forgot.” Pangzi says, pushing at one of the larger rocks left over from the statue with his foot.

“How would someone forget his own death, this is ridiculous! An hour ago I was just in my room, enjoying a nice cup of tea and suddenly I find myself in this cave, almost drowning in that pool!” Ba Ye gestures wildly and angrily with his arm, almost slapping Zhang Rishan in the face in the process, but Pangzi is unimpressed. “How could you not forget your death? Or the fact that you died. Maybe you just dropped dead drinking your tea, things like that happen. Who knows.”

“He didn’t drop dead, he vanished without a trace, leaving everything behind”, Zhang Rishan interjects. If Ba Ye had just dropped dead there would have been a funeral and it would have been just as sad and hard, but there wouldn’t have been a mystery, no reason to wish to know what happened.

“Well, maybe he did drop dead and that god plucked his body from the past, brought him back to life and put him here”, Wu Xie shrugs, “I mean, my terminal lung cancer got healed by magic golden coffin water in thunder city, so it’s not that far-fetched.”

And - oh, oh - realisation hits him like a punch to the sternum, taking his breath away, almost making him double over and sink to his knees. It had been him. Ba Ye never just vanished, had never been kidnapped by the Japanese or Qiu De Kao. He had never died, he had been snatched away by this being - god - whatever - and placed here and now, with Zhang Rishan, because it had wanted to give him something he had lost. But Ba Ye had never been lost, he had been stolen, stolen because Zhang Rishan is selfish and thoughtless and cruel and - He has done this. He has done this to Ba Ye. And to Fo Ye. And -

He can’t breathe. How can he ever say this? How can he ever tell Ba Ye? He can never be forgiven for this, there is no way, absolutely no way. Look out for Ba Ye, that had been his order, the one most important to Fo Ye and thus the most important to Zhang Rishan. And he had failed, miserably - no, he had done the opposite! And for the first time in quite a while he wishes Fo Ye was the one with a long life and not him. Fo Ye would never have done something so stupid.

Unbidden he remembers the illusion he had fallen victim to below the Chen tree, Fo Ye with his gun pointed at him, disappointed, so disappointed and he wishes it had been real, that he had died that day so he would have never been able to come here today. But Ba Ye had been missing before, he had vanished before Zhang Rishan had ever been to this tomb and shared his memories with a god. There would have been no reason to wish to know what happened that day if nothing had happened. And that really makes his head hurt, how is it even possible? How does this work, today and the past linked like this? Like it had always been meant to be this way?

[lizbotw]

Kageyama, Tanaka, and Daichi When Their Younger Sister is Dating Someone from the Volleyball Team

Anonymous said:

Hello can you please write hcs for how Kageyama, Tanaka, and Daichi would react to finding out that their younger sister is dating someone from the volleyball team ? I feel like they’d have the most reaction from the team lol

they definitely would have a big reaction, i agree with you!!! this was really funny to think about aha. lots of protective big bro headcanons ahead! i hope you like them because i spent a bit too much time on them and they almost morphed into actual scenarios lmao so please let me know what you think! ♡

Kageyama Tobio

This idiot is so focused on himself and volleyball that he would barely even think to worry about what was going on in your life.

Sure, you guys shared snippets of your day as you tossed a volleyball back and forth in your backyard during the evenings, but most of the time he was so tired from afternoon practice that he just wanted to eat dinner and crash (you had to shake him awake and drag him out of bed several times to remind him to do his homework because you were just that nice to him ♡ he didn’t seem to appreciate it though).

You didn’t always need verbal communication though because the comfortable silences of your walks home and the way you always slipped each other snacks whenever one of you was up late (you usually studying for a test the next day while he was just staying up late for the novelty of it all—laying down in bed and tossing a volleyball above his head, watching volleyball videos, staring out the window dramatically thinking about volleyball… you get the idea).

For all you knew about each other and your routines, Tobio seemed unable to even think about change in a context that included you—you were his little sister and it would always stay that way, and he was caught up in his own life and the changes he had to go through to grow. You were meant to be a constant.

That’s probably why he was the last person to expect you getting in a relationship—and with someone from his team no less.

Popping your head into the gym one day—holding a bag of meat buns you had bought for him and he had forgotten on the counter at home—turned into a regular routine once his teammates seemed to take a liking to you.

They bombarded you with teasing questions about the “King” and his personal life, and you were asked how it felt to be “royalty” (“Nice one, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi snickered at some point in response to that).

You stole glances out of the corner of your eye at Tobio aggressively chugging water on the sidelines and hiding his flustered face, finding him looking back at you intently. You gave him a knowing smile and it was as though another silent pact was formed.

You made small jabs at your brother as you joked around with the teammates, but you always steered the conversation away from topics you just knew he would throw a volleyball at your head later for answering.

Lighthearted conversations were always expected when you paid short visits to the gym, and the overexcited members always immediately abandoned their drills to talk to you, earning them quite the earful from Coach Ukai, although that never seemed to stop them.

But then your visits started getting longer and longer until suddenly you were staying for the entire afternoon practice sessions whenever you had time and even helping with manager duties on the side. You had always gone to your brother’s games (he forced you to come, even if you protested that you had already made plans with your friends that day) so you weren’t all that interested in what he was up to because you had dealt enough with his self-obsessed phase in middle school.

However, you were interested in Tobio’s latest move—just not the Tobio part. The infamous quick was now all yours to see up close and while the genius setting abilities of your brother came at no surprise to you, you couldn’t help but go slack jawed every time you saw the energetic orange-haired boy Tobio always bickered with leaping into the air.

(Actually, you were still in awe of your brother, but you were reluctant to admit it and inflate his ego so you stayed quiet. Also, you wanted to take the time to admire other volleyball players too, not the same one you had been cheering for for years. Tobio seemed to understand your emotions without you needing to explain them though and didn’t take them to heart—you two just knew things like that about one another.)

The game moved fast, as volleyball had the tendency to do, but even as you watched the practice matches and drills, your eyes locked onto the short player each and every time he sprung into the air, hair flying and arm drawn back for a powerful spike.

Hinata Shouyou—his name was about all the useful information you got out of Tobio when you asked him later during the walk home before he went back to complaining about how Hinata can’t do this and Hinata can’t do that. You rolled your eyes and tuned him out—just sibling things, you know.

Thank God he had told you that at least because you had embarrassingly forgotten a majority of the team’s names after they hurriedly introduced themselves when they first met you and then never made an effort to remind you of their names afterwards.

Hinata wasn’t the only one you had your eyes on though.

Tsukishima Kei—tall and blonde with a feisty attitude that was strangely alluring, mainly because he managed to get under Tobio’s skin almost better than you ever could. His blocks were clearly calculated, and his demeanor was cool and effortless, or snarky when he wanted it to be. His height definitely helped his cause (both in volleyball and in you noticing him).

The first year Tobio seemed to talk to the least was Yamaguchi Tadashi, but only because he wasn’t a regular in the volleyball rotation and Tobio tended to have a one track mind that included not paying attention to those he didn’t need to. You saw the boy practicing his floating serves though and you were instantly hooked. The way the ball effortlessly fluttered to the ground once he served it over the net? Way cooler than whatever Tobio was doing (once again, an exaggeration, but you didn’t want to fawn over your older brother that already knew he was a genius). You couldn’t believe you had been missing out on seeing all this action just because Yamaguchi wasn’t a regular.

Since Tobio was constantly stirring up trouble with the others in his grade, you ended up getting to know the other three pretty well at first, but soon you become well acquainted with the other players and the upperclassmen.

The older members of the club moved with a certain grace and sureness that came from pure experience with the sport for so long, and you were drawn to the way they built up a solid foundation for the underclassmen, filling the holes where Tobio and the others stumbled and made mistakes.

The entire team was amazing to you. It was breathtaking to watch them play now that you weren’t bound to sitting in the stands at some tournament, and you found your eyes darting about constantly throughout the game.

Everyone there was definitely amazing, each in their own special way. This is what Tobio had been keeping you from when he said not to come to his practices because he thought you’d just get in the way?

You made sure to let Tobio know how lame you thought he was afterwards and he gave you a punch in your arm in reply as he sipped from a milk box on your walk home, scowling before turning back contently to focus on his drink.

You admiration of the Karasuno boys wasn’t one-sided at all though, and they thought you were an absolute joy to be around, whether it be your helpful nature when it came to offering your assistance to Kiyoko (Tanaka and Nishinoya were especially a fan of that one), your sweetness in complementing them whenever they perfected a technique, or the way you could easily joke around with them as though you had known them from the start. Even Tsukishima had to admit you weren’t that bad.

If you were dating Hinata, Tobio would most likely find out when Hinata kept messing up his quicks whenever you were watching—wanting to impress you but also getting too overexcited and losing focus. Cue the arguing between them until Tsukishima made a snide comment about Hinata wanting to impress his girlfriend—you.

“What the hell? No??? Why would you even say that about my sister, you idiot?” Now Tobio was all up in Tsukishima’s face, eyebrows furrowed in anger. “She would never date a dumbass like him, right?” At that he turned to you, ready for your instant confirmation—but then you hesitated and he started to get worried. “Right?” he asked again, this time almost pleadingly.

Tsukishima snickered at your brother’s crestfallen expression when you shook your head, not knowing how else to answer, and Tobio knew it was all over. He snatched Hinata up by the collar of his shirt faster than lightning and shook him in the air, yelling at him because what the fuck.

Hinata managed to wiggle out of Tobio’s grasp and shoved him back, saying that you actually liked him and it’s not like he blackmailed you or anything so what’s the big deal.

The rest of the team had to break up the fight before it got out of hand and the two of them had to be separated for a while to cool down. During all of this, Tsukishima was standing next to you, watching with an amused expression while you were simply in shock because you had no idea what had just happened.

Tobio bombarded you with a lot of questions on the walk home about why Hinata of all people and you had to explain to him that you don’t get to chose who you love because if you did you wouldn’t choose someone you knew would deliberately piss him off (he thought that was pretty stupid because just like he chose to play volleyball, you could choose not to date Hinata—sigh, he really doesn’t understand these things).

Tobio and Hinata had a lot of competitions after that to settle it once and for all who you liked better out of both of them.

(“She chose to date me, dummy!” Hinata would shout.)

(“I’m literally her brother! I’ve known her longer!” came Tobio’s reply, slightly out of breath because their latest competition involved seeing who could run the farthest and the fastest—as if that was an accurate representation of how much you liked someone.)

Tobio would keep a careful eye on Hinata and you, and there would definitely be lots of bickering between the two, although that was normal.

He would mellow out at some point and become less intense about trying to get rid of Hinata and break you two up, but if you two ever showed PDA in front of him Tobio would make sure to grumble and huff as he watched it happened, or turn away and cross his arms—if you ignored him, he would just keep doing it louder until you noticed and were forced to stop because talk about mood ruiner.

When Tobio is just completely over it and is just like ‘whatever, I guess this is happening now,’ he’ll actually tell Hinata that he… kind of trusts him with you, and Hinata would be all shiny eyed and sparkly at the complement and reassure him that he’ll do his best to always keep you happy.

There may even be a time where you’re feeling sad, perhaps after a fight, and Hinata hesitates—wondering if he should run after you, if he should bother pursuing you, if you even really want to see him again—and Tobio would be there, arms crossed and raising one eyebrow as he looks down at him.

“What are you waiting for? Go after her, stupid.”

Hinata, lost expression being replaced with one of surprise, would shift to peer up at him. “Wha- You really mean it?”

Tobio would turn away, forcing the grumpiest expression on his face possible. “Well, yeah… you’re her boyfriend. That’s your job. She wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

With Hinata’s spirit reinvigorated, he was quick to run off after your retreating figure, shouting back at Tobio that he won’t let him down. Your brother couldn’t help but crack a smile at that.

For the love of God, do not date Tsukishima if you don’t want Tobio to disown you.

Tsukishima wouldn’t really care much about being public with your relationship—to him, who knows knows, and who doesn’t just doesn’t, simple as that. And it wasn’t like you were itching to tell your brother you were basically dating his arch nemesis (okay, that’s dramatic, but it felt like your life had become some dramatic secret—a soap opera brought to life —and you were living a double life by keeping this a secret from your brother), so Tobio basically knew nothing for quite a while. Tsukishima also didn’t show too much PDA in general so your brother remained oblivious.

That is until Tobio and Tsukishima got into another argument and Tsukishima was getting so annoyed that he just let it slip, using it as leverage to get a leg up on Tobio.

Tobio immediately clammed up and went stone-faced, mainly just at the mere thought of that, not because he was accepting it as his reality. But then he watched Tsukishima’s smirk grow and he broke out of his trance, definitely being like, “What the fuck??? She’s not dating you and I will beat you up for saying that you fucking idiot.”

Tsukishima found it sooo funny how Tobio was fuming and gave you a smug look from the sidelines. Oh boy, Tobio did not like that and was like, “Hey??? I’m talking to you, pay attention to me and don’t look at her!!! I bet she hates you!!!”

Even Hinata wanted to get in on the action, and of course Yamaguchi didn’t want his best friend to get ganged up on so he stepped in and started listing off all off Tsukishima’s good qualities that were definitely likable enough to date him.

It was getting embarrassing just how much Tsukishima had made Tobio lose his cool, so you had to step in and diffuse the situation, although no one could step away from the argument until they knew the truth so, begrudgingly, you told them that yes, you were dating Tsukishima. That didn’t really help much though because Tobio was still losing it and arguing with Yamaguchi because Tsukishima didn’t feel the need to defend himself and now Hinata was asking you if Tsukishima had blackmailed you into saying that.

To pour gas on the already flaming and wildly out of control fire, Tsukishima went up to you while the others were distracted and gave you a kiss on the forehead right in front of everyone—absolutely no shame. Oh my god, it was a whole mess and a half and everything was falling apart.

You have no idea how, but everyone calmed down at some point, although there was a lot of tension as practice continued. Things were fairly back to normal the next day once everyone had time to sleep on the issue and come to terms with it on their own.

Tsukishima loves throwing it in Tobio’s face and it’s horrible, yes, but you have to admit it’s sort of funny at times and you still love your boyfriend regardless.

Tobio goes back to hating Tsukishima even more for a while (and they had been making some progress with their relationship too so talk about a major step back), but after a while of silently fuming in his room every day for almost two weeks, he’s mostly normal again. Definitely still eyes Tsukishima suspiciously whenever he so much as looks in your direction though and reminds you that you were not supposed to date until you were like fifty (you had never agreed to or even heard of that rule before for that matter so that was a nice surprise).

Generally expect Tobio to give you guys a hard time for way too long before he sees some instance of Tsukishima actually being very caring and helping you out of an emotional rut whenever Tobio is unavailable to do so, and then his opinion of your boyfriend shifts into a somewhat favorable light. Don’t expect too much from him though.

And, well, if you were with Yamaguchi? That’s a little too close to Tsukishima for Tobio’s liking, but at least it’s slightly better.

There’s literally no way Tobio would really find out unless one of you explicitly told him. Yamaguchi might confide in Tsukishima about his relationship and there might be a chance Tsukishima uses it against Tobio in an argument, but generally he would probably decide that it’s not his place to say anything.

Tobio already doesn’t interact with Yamaguchi all that much anyway and their relationship is mostly fine (minus the times he joins Tsukishima in being a major pain in Tobio’s ass), so there’s no chance of your boyfriend blurting it out on his own in the heat of the moment either. He’s also too shy for PDA most of the time, so everything is very much hidden.

It actually starts to get ridiculous when you’ve been dating for months though and Tobio still hasn’t realized. You decide that it’s important for your brother and your boyfriend to be on better terms with each other if this relationship was going to last—which you most certainly hoped it would—so you were forced to take matters into your own hands.

Sitting Tobio down at the kitchen table, all serious with your hands neatly folded in front you, you would break the news. Tobio’s fidgeting and complaining about how this was stupid and why couldn’t you just talk to him in his room, ugh, would all fall away instantly while he processes the news.

“…Really?”

“Yeah.”

Tobio would still argue with Tsukishima whenever he was with both you and Yamaguchi, telling the blond to “back the fuck off, you overgrown bean sprout,” but he would also look to the root of the problem and take a special interest in harassing your timid boyfriend.

Although Tobio could be intimidating at times, Yamaguchi had seen it all before, so he does his best not to be freaked out when Tobio starts directing threatening glares at him instead of at Hinata or Tsukishima like normal.

After seeing that Yamaguchi is the pure definition of harmless though, Tobio would try not to keep a cold exterior, since his protectiveness didn’t seem to be doing much anyway because there was nothing to fix when it came to worrying about Yamaguchi hurting you, and would slowly try to get closer to your boyfriend. Forcing out compliments when it came to his serves, giving him little tips along the way, and making sure to greet him and bid him farewell every practice.

It was awkward at first because he was clearly trying to force the friendship for your sake, but when you told him to just be himself because he was freaking Yamaguchi out, that seemed to do the trick and it was now a mixture between his earlier aloof behavior and his newer friendly one. A happy medium.

Yamaguchi knew that he didn’t need shining compliments from Tobio every second of the day to know that he had accepted him as your boyfriend and he was fine with that—that was just how Tobio was—plus Yamaguchi was really here for you, not your brother, so it didn’t matter much anyway.

Things were pretty mild between them, although Tobio would occasionally let Yamaguchi know that he… appreciated (yes, he had to choke it out) what he was doing for you and all that jazz.

Dating one of the upperclassmen would be a much less chaotic affair, and you would probably go about things the “mature” way and tell Tobio about your relationship near the start, rather than waiting a long time like the Yamaguchi situation, or having someone else tell him like the Hinata and Tsukishima situations. The upperclassmen are also generally more mature than those in Tobio’s grade—even Tanaka and Nishinoya would have a bit of sanity in this situation—so they would say it’s up to you if and when you want to let your brother know.

When you tell him, Tobio will kind of blink at you for a bit, just absorbing that fact because you looked dead serious.

“Don’t think you can just boss me around during practice now.”

“I do that anyway, so shut up.”

He wouldn’t know what to say to your boyfriend—yeah, he wants to be all like don’t mess with my sister, but also they’re older than him and he’s supposed to be respectful or he’ll be forced to run extra laps as punishment while Hinata laughs at him from the sidelines—so the first few practices after you tell him just end up with him studying your boyfriend very intensely from across the gym while tightly clutching a volleyball. It’s very unnerving and your boyfriend begs you to talk some sense into Tobio because he is ruining their concentration so bad and Coach Ukai is definitely considering if he should have them do extra drills to make up for it and they do not want that.

In order to save your boyfriend from such a fate, you encourage both him and Tobio to talk it over. It consists of your boyfriend doing the typical upperclassmen thing of being very reassuring while at the same time being very overbearing with their intense presence and Tobio is sweating because this is your boyfriend, don’t say anything weird or you’ll hate him forever, just keep cool.

He’s not usually one to be that worried about this sort of thing, but no matter which upperclassmen it is and no matter what kind of relationship he had with them before, he’s going to be very stoic and try to come to terms with the fact that you’re actually dating them.

While your boyfriend is all like “Don’t worry! I’ll take care of her!” and “Sorry, I know this is a little weird, but I really do like her!,” Tobio’s like “mhm,” “yeah,” “okay” so to the untrained eye he seems very nonchalant about the whole thing, but internally his mind is working a mile a minute. He probably starts sweating a little and your boyfriend is like, “Uh, you okay?” and he’s just like “mhm, yeah,” while sweat starts dripping down his forehead and he feels like he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

Rather than the conversation between the two consisting of Tobio asserting his dominance as your brother and threatening your boyfriend, it’s just him being forced to accept his fate while your boyfriend says his piece and is like “Wow, I’m so glad you’re okay with it!” at the end of it all.

You try to minimize PDA because your brother looks like he’s going to blow a fuse anytime he witnesses it and always turns away very embarrassed, blushing furiously. Come on, you can’t really blame him. Like when did his little sister grow up so fast? Uh, a long time ago, you moron, stop being so focused on yourself.

He makes an extra effort to ask more about your life now and wants to know everything, so now your usual routine silences or shallow talks have turned into midnight discussions either in one of your bedrooms, lightly tossing volleyball back and forth, or in the kitchen as you two sit at the table and binge eat snacks.

That actually helps him a lot with coming to terms that yes, you have your own life and it’s just as important as his volleyball one and that he should really make an effort to keep up with you. He feels really bad that it took him so long to realize that you were even dating someone and after getting your perspective on the matter, he comes to accept it, trusting them to do a good job because he’s seen what they can do on the court and for the team and has known them firsthand for quite a while.

Dating anyone on the team would have its fair share of ups and down and bumps in the road, but it’ll also be a great wake up call for your sometimes too-dense-for-words brother and actually end up strengthening your relationship in the long run, especially because now he knows you have someone reliable to lean on whenever he falls short.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

Oh man, your entire life was just filled with him constantly butting into your personal life, playing the big scary guy at anyone who looked at you funny and always asking if there were any so called “punks” you wanted him to beat up (the answer was always a firm “Ryuu, no” because you didn’t want him to get in trouble, but you always looked at him with a sparkle of admiration in your eye at his bravery).

Just like with Saeko, he’d get embarrassed when you showed him affection sometimes, or would kick you out of his room if he had his friends over (your teasing revealed one too many embarrassing personal secrets of his that his friends made fun of him for ages for).

He still made his love clear through his protectiveness though and he wasn’t any stranger to giving you a good-natured pat on the head in public. Basically, as long as it didn’t ruin his tough guy appearance (he said that reputation was important and that he had to keep it up so that no one would even think about messing with you in the slightest), he would be very clear of his pride in your achievements and just how much you meant to him. This meant it was mainly at home or in private that he would flip the switch and give you hugs, or get started with comments of “look how much my pupil is growing” (you punched his arm when he said things like that, but you were always grinning when you did so).

(His overly affectionate moments were mainly to get back at you for teasing him in front of his friends and he gave you the same treatment, but he also really did mean it.)

He taught you how to be “tough” (hence the “pupil” nickname sometimes and the feeling he had of taking you under his wing) and you eagerly studied him with shining admiration because he was your cool older brother after all.

You were always in the know about each others lives and while he ranted to you about volleyball and school, you let him know about how you totally put some kid in their place today in class like he taught you to or if you needed his advice for things (as much as you liked to make fun of each other, you still looked up to him and his “worldly” experience that simply came from being older, plus he was very attentive when it came to solving problems in your life and giving you his input).

Finally the day came that you two were reunited and going to the same school once again when you started your first year at Karasuno. Ryuu gave you a pep talk before you went inside about what to expect of high schoolers and reminded you that the same rules still applied and that if you needed him to take anyone on for you he was just one floor away (he cracked his knuckles for good measure at that)—he reassured you that you were never too old to rely on your big bro.

Despite your protests, he decided to walk you to class on the first day, saying it was on his way to his own class anyway. He spent the walk bragging about how he was a second year now and how it was so nostalgic to walk in the first year halls now and how he remembered this and that in the hallways (he pointed to specific spots as he recalled the memories of sitting on the floor for lunch with his friends, or telling you something hilarious he spotted from the windows one day), and while you rolled your eyes and reminded him that he had been a first year just a few months ago (he shushed you when you said that), you listened with rapt interest, wondering what your own high school career would end up looking like. He also gave pointed glares to several students you passed by in the hallways, especially the guys, and made sure to loudly repeat how you must be so glad to have a second year who can fight as your older and protective brother, relishing in the way some of the first years gulped in fear.

It wasn’t long until you two reached your classroom, and you lingered just outside the doorway with him, ready to say your final goodbyes as you got ready to embark on your first day. However, when you turned to him, you realized he was looking at you strangely, his eyes sparkling with pride, but it also seemed like he was trying to hide his face from you.

“Ryuu? Are you… are you crying?” You had to try extra hard to keep yourself from bursting out laughing.

He dramatically turned his head away. “Of course not! Anyway I’ve, uh, got to go, so bye now! Have fun and trust no one!” And then he was off back down the hallways you had come from, ready to ascend the stairs and begin his own new school year.

He brought you to volleyball practice with him as soon as it began for the year, waiting for you outside of your classroom so he could lead you there and you wouldn’t get lost trying to find the gym. He wanted you to know where he was going to be spending a lot of his time outside of school in case you ever needed to find him, so he figured it would be best to let you know from the start, especially since they wouldn’t be doing much on the first day anyway.

“Hey guys!” he greeted the third years as he walked in, “I brought my sister with me, hope you don’t mind.” You followed after him somewhat timidly, not sure what the captain and vice captain he had told you so much about would be like.

Daichi and Sugawara were more than welcoming though and reassured both of you that it was fine. They asked about your interests and how your first year of high school was going so far. The duo was kind and funny, and you felt instantly at ease joining in with their antics.

You already knew the other second years from when Ryuu would have them over, so it was basically smooth sailing from then on in terms of you being friendly with everyone on the team.

That is, until the first years showed up and you had to watch the drama between them unfold—everything from Kageyama and Hinata’s initial disagreements once they realized they were on the same team, the entire storm that came with the duo of Tsukkishima and Yamaguchi, and, last but most certainly not least, the match between all of them.

Ryuu kept you updated about all of it, even letting you know of his plan of allowing Kagyeama and Hinata to use the gym before morning practice (you thought he was the coolest for taking a risk behind Daichi’s back to help the first years out), and you were so caught up in wondering how it would all turn out that he invited you to the match that Saturday.

Of course you were cheering for your brother once he was dragged in to be a part of the match and let him know afterwards how cool it was. You had been to his volleyball games before, but it was entirely different seeing them up close with everyone practicing.

You slowly began to spend more time with the boys’ volleyball team, always one to cheer on your brother and admire his skills, and once you got acquainted with Kiyoko, you began to help her out with simple manager duties in exchange—Ryuu always tried to use you as a gateway to talk to Kiyoko and having him be jealous of your friendship with her gave you a sense of triumph because you finally had something to hold over him.

You even became fast friends with Yachi once she joined the Karasuno crew due to you both being in the same grade and she became one of your favorite people to talk to whenever the day was particularly slow. You showed her the ropes of being a manager and gave her your own personal anecdotes about what it was like to be new to the team so she didn’t feel so nervous about the whole thing knowing that someone else was once in the same boat as her.

At last you were able to socialize properly with the first years now that their dispute had been settled and, similar to your experience with the rest of the team, you instantly took a liking to them, even if some of them were snarky or could be blunt sometimes (Kageyama and Tsukishima). You grew especially close to them since you were all in the same grade, although the upperclassmen still looked over you and you had a good relationship with all of them as well.

Ryuu would be able to tell right away if something was off with you once you started acting a little strange. He would be concerned and probably ask you what was wrong when you two were home and just hanging out on the couch, and since you’re so used to confiding everything in him, you end up blurting out that you were dating one of his teammates, immediately covering your mouth after and staring at him with wide eyes, unsure of what he would say.

All of the first years would need to watch their backs once he found out if it was one of them that you were dating.

“Seriously? Him?” he would ask in disbelief when you told him and shake his head. Then he would get all sentimental again and lean back, hands behind his head. “Ah, young love,” he would muse.

“Ryuu, shut up, you’re not that much older than me!”

Ryuu would constantly be lurking nearby anytime you were with your boyfriend, and during practices he would take a special interest in teasing them. Definitely glared at them a lot, gave them lots of scary faces, and threatened them whenever he had a chance during the beginning and found it hilarious if they ever seemed scared or uncomfortable. He kept that up until you told him to knock it off or else you would stop talking to him for a whole week (he can’t go that long without his little sister so he was basically forced to comply).

Tsukishima wouldn’t be all that phased by his threats anyway though so Ryuu would continue trying to intimidate him no matter what you said. (“What? Why do I need to stop? That kid needs someone to put him in his place!”)

Tsukishima wouldn’t really care at all about trying to appeal to Ryuu, but the any of the other first years would probably try to show that they were doing their best to be a good boyfriend so could he please stop looking like he wanted to murder them, please they are begging you.

Depending on the first year you chose, it may take him different lengths of time to warm up to the idea, but once he did he’s always teasing you two and “Aw, Noya, look at the tiny first years in love. If only that was us and Kiyoko. Minus the tiny part. And the first years part.”

If you choose one of the second years, when you told him he would groan and cover his ears, screwing his eyes shut because he did not want to know that.

“This is a joke, right? I can’t believe you’re dating one of my friends! Gross! I’m never going to be able to look at you two the same again.”

Nishinoya is his best friend, so once he got over the initial weirdness of it all, you three went back to being the most chaotic trio of the team. Tanaka even forgave Noya for betraying Kiyoko since he was dating you after all. Those two were basically your protection squad before, but it was ramped up to the max now that Noya was actually dating you. Anyone come near you? They were about to enter a world of pain with two feral volleyball players guarding you at all times. Lots of hanging out between the three of you, and Ryuu would get all pouty when you told him that no, he can’t come on your date tonight (lo behold, unbeknownst to you, Noya had also invited Ryuu over because “bro code” so you couldn’t escape him anyway).

Ryuu had a lot of respect for Ennoshita, so if you were dating him he would trust him to take good care of you, although since Ennoshita always kept him and Nishinoya in line, you basically had that same power now and he was not happy about you bossing him around.

Overall, Ryuu would have a hard time accepting the fact that his friends were dating you because how in the world did this even happen (the first few weeks would have him cringing and turning away if he ever saw any PDA because please spare his eyes), but ultimately he knew he wouldn’t trust anyone else to treat you better than the guys he already knew so well, so he would try his best to be supportive and make sure you knew to come to him if you needed anything as always.

Decide to date a third year and Ryuu is going to stare at you in silence for a very long time once he hears that. He’s just sitting there blinking, waiting for you to burst out laughing at the joke, but when you ask him if he’s okay, he realizes you were most definitely not joking and now he’s having an existential crisis.

“How can my precious baby sister be dating someone older than me? How am I supposed to keep that guy in line if I’m supposed to be respectful to him?” He’s freaking out because suddenly you and your entire life in his mind could no longer be considered to only consist of people younger than him that he could easily intimidate and be seen as your cool older brother by—no, you had entered uncharted territory and this was so weird.

He couldn’t do much in terms of threatening the third years, but once you let your boyfriend know that you had told your brother about your relationship, they would go talk to him themselves after seeing how tense he was acting during practice. They’d let him know they intended to take good care of you and everything like that, and Ryuu knew that he trusted their word.

Whether it was Daichi, Sugawara, or Asahi, Ryuu told them he was fine with it, but that if they ever did hurt you, he doesn’t care if they were older than him, he will come after them. He also definitely keeps a watch on you two when he can because of course he’s worried about his younger sister dating someone older than both of them.

Just like with the second years though, he knows the third years are responsible and trustworthy, and he feels pretty safe leaving you alone with them.

Eventually, no matter who it is you’re dating on the team, Ryuu will come to accept it because he wants you to be happy, but he’s constantly ready to jump to your defense if your boyfriend ever does anything wrong because he’ll always be your caring, protective older brother.

Sawamura Daichi

Daichi was the responsible older brother every parent dreams of having (albeit a bit overdramatic at times).

Once you started at Karasuno, you were stuck to his side constantly—although it wasn’t through your own choice, no. Your dear older brother was convinced he needed to keep a close watch on you at all times and that if he wasn’t there something bad would happen and he would be the one who had to deal with the blame from your parents.

He gave you your freedom, especially because he was busy with his own life, but he was always waiting right outside the school to walk you home, and if he saw you at lunch you better believe he’s going to embarrass you in front of your friends and say “hi.” (Your friends would then proceed to ask about the “hottie upperclassman” that had just talked to you, and you would gag and stick your tongue out, letting them know that they did not want to date your brother. Listen, living with him meant that you had to see a side of him that wasn’t the perfect boyfriend facade your friends seemed to see in him. You knew the truth.)

When the time came that most people were signing up for clubs they were considering and attending club interest meetings, he invited you to stop by the gym after you were done looking around after school. This was mostly because you two could easily meet up there and then head home right after, but he also thought it would be fun for you to see what antics his team got up to, even if you couldn’t join.

You poked your head into the gym and glanced around, instantly spotting your brother on the far end of the room. “Yo, Daichi! I’m here!” you called out in a sing-songy voice, making your way across the gym. Your strides were confident, even as the rest of the team turned to stare at you, because it was your cool brother that was the captain after all and that automatically made you the star of the party, or something like that.

He would be glad to see you and introduce you to the rest of the team right away, mainly to get them to quit staring and actually get back to practicing. That didn’t help much though because you were bombarded with questions and practice was entirely derailed by your arrival.

You already knew Sugawara and Asahi from when Daichi would invite them over and you even hung out with them a few times when Daichi would host a movie night for them at your house and you would join them in the living room.

Depending on if you were a first year or second year, you might even be acquainted with the underclassmen as well if they were in your class, especially once they learned that you were related to Daichi and would go to you whenever they needed to pass on messages to him, such as if they couldn’t make it to practice later that day or requests for him to pick up supplies for them if they needed it or questions about their training. Yeah, they could easily go to him most of the time, but it was a lot more fun going through you in an unintentional game of “telephone.”

Even after you decided on the club you wanted to join, you still kept coming to the practices. Your club usually finished earlier than the volleyball team did, especially because Daichi usually kept them pretty late, so for the end of practice you would sit quietly in the corner, finishing up some homework. You could technically go home on your own if you wanted to, but the sounds of the team practicing were comforting background noise to your work, even when you had your headphones in, and Daichi preferred to walk you home anyway and make sure you were safe and nothing happened. It just sort of worked out that way and since no one had a real problem with it, everyone simply went with it.

At one point, Kiyoko asked for your help with refilling the boys’ water bottles and you agreed, setting aside the notebook you had been scribbling in as you reviewed your notes from the school day. After that, you asked her occasionally if she ever need help, or would step in on your own if you saw she or Yachi was struggling since they usually didn’t want to bother you, and soon it became a regular routine with you helping out during the practices most of the time and doing your homework on the side if you had a chance.

You got to know the team members much better now that you were actually participating, rather than tuning them out and focusing on your work, and their dynamics were intriguing and hilarious, especially how they always seemed to drive your brother up a wall while simultaneously impressing him constantly. The duality of it all kept drawing you back for more.

Now Daichi wasn’t the only one who would say “hi” to you at lunch. Some of the other boys would greet you if they saw you—if Yamaguchi dragged Tsukishima over to you when he went to say “hello,” the blonde might give you a slight head nod of acknowledgement on a good day—and the comments from your friends on the rapidly increasing number of boys that would come up to you just seemed to multiply. Expect it wasn’t just Daichi—your nice but occasionally stupid older brother—they were talking about, it was actual boys you talked to.

When you had first started attending the volleyball club practices, you had regarded everyone there as family, since that what they always said they were and that was the dynamic they had with Daichi, so you thought you automatically fell into that category, but the offhanded comments from your friends about “Ooo, what did you think about that one?” and “Yeah, he was nice, but that one from yesterday was cuter,” had you reconsidering your thoughts about a certain few of your brother’s teammates.

You would probably feel guilty keeping your relationship a secret from your brother and would decide to break the news to him somewhere near the start of when you began dating one of his teammates, choosing to do it as you two walked home one night, the air chilly and refreshing after being in that stuffy gym all afternoon. It felt right to do it then because you didn’t want to make it a big deal, rather fitting it into your daily routine so that hopefully he wouldn’t take the news as hard.

You two were in the middle of a discussion about practice that day when you bite your lip and steel yourself to tell him, shoving your hands in your pocket and staring down at the ground as you walked. “Um… Daichi… there’s actually something I wanted to tell you…”

He would immediately stop walking and turn to face you, the tone of your voice making him concerned—so much for not making it a big deal. “(Y/N), you’re not getting into any sort of trouble, are you?”

That made your eyes go wide, quick to correct him. “What?! No, no! You’ve got it all wrong! It’s just that…” And with a deep breath you would break the news to him, holding your breath right after as you watched him to see what he would do.

“That’s all? Oh, thank God, I thought you were about to tell me you joined a gang or something,” he’d chuckle, and you would hesitantly join in with your own awkward laugh, a little scared at how well he was taking this.

The fact that you had almost given him a heart attack and he was so glad that the truth wasn’t the worst case scenario he had come up with would initially have him not reacting that much to the actual implications of you dating someone, just relieved that it was something normal.

But then he would dwell on it some more as you two continued walking, your chest much lighter now that you had gotten that secret off of it. You weren’t off the hook just yet though, unbeknownst to you.

He wouldn’t say all of his thoughts out loud just yet, although he would muse, “I guess I should have seen that coming. You have been spending a lot of time with him lately,” as he reflected on the past few weeks.

“Wh-what?” you would choke out, stumbling over your steps and then rushing to catch up with him. And here you thought we were being slick the whole time. Brother knows best as they say (or something like that).

Literally start dating any of the underclassmen and Daichi is going to have to pull them aside to have a little “chat” as soon as he finds out.

When they emerge, your boyfriend looks absolutely terrified (even Tsukishima would be a little shaken), but Daichi is grinning widely and gives them a hearty clap on the back, thanking them for their time.

“N-no problem,” is what they would probably stammer out before slinking away to continue practicing.

You don’t even bother asking Daichi what he told them because you already know he’s not going to tell you, or just give you a watered down version, but you do give him your own lecture about how he should be nicer to your boyfriend and quit giving them a hard time. Daichi ends up being the one coming out of that talk a little shaken so it seems as though justice has been served for your boyfriend.

Daichi tried to make an effort to be nicer after that, but you can feel him watching you guys like a hawk across the gym whenever you’re so much as talking with one another. As soon as you turn to glare at him though, he looks away, going back to whatever he was doing, whether it be sipping from his water bottle, having a conversation with someone, or cleaning up a section of the gym, even whistling a little tune as though he hadn’t been giving the death stare in your general direction just five seconds ago.

If he really wants to know what you two are up to, he’ll pretend he’s doing something, such as picking up a ball, and inch closely to eavesdrop on your conversation. Leaning in for a short kiss? Oops, he accidentally bumped into you two very hard, he’s so sorry about that, and oh, would you look at the time, shouldn’t they get back to practice now, that break seems like it was long enough—tight-lipped smile and all to accompany it.

If your boyfriend comes to pick you up at your house to go out on a date, Daichi is there. Whether he opens the door himself, or is looming behind you as he bids you two farewell and no, he’s not trying to communicate threats using his eyes, what are you talking about?

Inviting your boyfriend over for dinner with your family? Daichi is there of course. Movie night? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he joined, right? Studying in your room? Hmm, maybe you should leave your door open. What? It’s just to let some fresh air in, that’s all.

Of course you want to do that whole romantic walking home together thing, so you tell your boyfriend to hurry up and change early after practice so you two can start walking before Daichi even finishes.

But somehow, without fail, no matter what you do, he’d always be there right behind you two, walking a few steps away.

You turn around to shoot him a glare. “Daichi, I swear-”

“What? I’m just walking home. I live here too, you know.”

“Go walk with Suga or something like you usually do!”

Somewhere in the distance you can see Suga running up the hill to catch up with Daichi, panting loudly and calling out for him to wait up, he was still getting dressed, can’t you have some mercy, you stupid captain.

Daichi would be generally overbearing at first and although it’s annoying it’s clear he’s just looking out for you. Plus, your boyfriend is lucky Daichi actually knows him because the treatment would be much worse for anyone else.

He may be a bit more hesitant when to comes to the troublemakers of the team, such as Tanaka or Nishinoya, versus if you were dating one of the more mature underclassmen, but ultimately he knows that even those who cause him headaches almost everyday can be just as responsible as the others when the time comes.

Daichi will probably still keep up the overprotective act for quite a while, although it gradually decreases over time, but deep down he really does trust his teammate to take care of you and will let them know as such if he sees they’re actually ever feeling unsure during the relationship and thinking that you deserve someone better.

If you’re dating one of the two in his grade, dear God, he has zero control.

Suga just amps up his playful bullying of Daichi if he’s being too worrisome.

“Suga, be careful, don’t hold her hand too hard, she has a paper cut on that finger- oof.” Cue Suga punching him in the gut with a devilish grin and reassuring him you two will be fine and to quit hovering so much.

Daichi is actually at Suga’s mercy in this case and while you feel a little bad, it’s just so funny. Whenever he looks over at you for help because please, someone stop Suga from making fun of him for being an overprotective brother, you burst out laughing and tell him, “Sorry, but I have to side with my boyfriend on this one.” Please stop rubbing salt in the wound, he looks like his spirit is about to leave his body.

You and Suga are a fearsome duo against Daichi and he has absolutely no control over either of you. As reckless as he can be sometimes, Suga is still high up on Daichi’s list of people he trusts and his caring side more than makes up for the trouble he gets you in, so Daichi feels as though you’ll be fine.

With Asahi, Daichi would try to pull the whole scare tactic on him, but he feels bad when Asashi gets all worried about Daichi hating him and ends up barely touching you if he’s around—this winds up with you complaining to Daichi about how’s he’s getting in the way of your PDA and he actually tells Asahi he should ramp up the romantic act (even if it pains Daichi to say it). Plus, he knows you’re in good hands with Asahi and he’s always careful and treats you with the utmost care in the world, so Daichi begrudgingly accepts that there’s no reason for him to step in and that you deserve to be in a relationship with the ace.

Both of the third years worm their way into Daichi’s heart in some way and he just knows he can’t control either of the people he’s spent the last few years playing with, so he simply comes to accept it, secretly glad that you chose one of them because he couldn’t think of anyone better to entrust you to.

Dating anyone on the team will have Daichi wary at first, but ultimately he knows all of them and he knows they’re good people and will likely be even better boyfriends, especially if they know he’s always lurking close by when you’re involved, so although he may try to give some of them a hard time, it all comes from a place of love and wanting to make sure that you know he’s always there for you no matter what. Once he cools down the act and sees that you’re open with him about your relationship and let him know if you’re unsure about certain things—no matter how small—he’ll be more comfortable since he knows he can be sure you’ll never keep him in the dark if it really is serious.

[valdomarx]

Geralt and Jaskier visit a brothel together, requested by me

It’s been a long few weeks in the wilderness, and for once it’s as much of a relief for Geralt as it is for Jaskier to arrive in a town with a comfortable inn. Nature may have its bounties, but the body has its needs. Alas, the contracts have been poor of late, and by the time the room and bath have been paid for, both of their purses are light.

There’s enough money for a decent meal or for a trip to a brothel, but not both. Geralt contemplates this dilemma.

“We could share,” Jaskier suggests.

Geralt snorts. “One portion of food barely feeds me at the best of times. I’m not going halves with you.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I don’t mean dinner. We could share a girl.”

“Hmm.” Geralt considers. That would indeed be cheaper, and there would be enough coin left over for a basic meal for each of them as well. The thought of both satisfaction and food wins out over any qualms he has, and he nods.

Jaskier brightens, and hustles him off in the direction of the local brothel.

--

He lets Jaskier do the talking once they arrive. It seems easier that way. Jaskier explains what they want and arranges payment with the madam, who recommends to them a highly accommodating lady by the name of April who resides upstairs.

When they head to her room, they find April to be a sturdy brunette with lovely wide hips and a cute dimpled chin. Taking in the pair of them standing in the doorway, she raises an eyebrow. “Both at once?” she asks, not in the least bit shy.

“We come as a package deal,” Jaskier jokes, which sets Geralt’s teeth on edge.

“Two charming gentlemen,” she smiles beguilingly. “My lucky day.”

She leads them inside, to a bedroom filled with worn red velvet fabrics and the damp, musky smell of sex. They kick off their boots at the door, because it seems only polite, and while Geralt is wondering if there is some sort of etiquette to this sharing business she takes him by the hand and toys with the laces of his shirt.

“How about I start by getting this off you, handsome?” she asks, and he hums his assent. She pulls off his shirt and sucks in a quick breath when she sees his scars. She’s professional enough to cover it, but not fast enough to fool Geralt’s heightened senses. She touches each mark curiously.

“How did you get this one?” she asks, running her fingers over a jagged, red scar curving over his shoulder. Geralt is used to that question from bed partners. He doesn’t even mind it much.

“That one was from an ekhidna,” Jaskier butts in. “Caught him when he was out on a lake gathering buckthorn.”

Geralt glares at him. This situation would be much easier to deal with if Jaskier would keep his mouth shut for once.

The girl gives Jaskier a inquisitive look. “You know all his stories?” She walks over to Jaskier and runs a hand down his chest, catching on the buttons of his chemise and undoing them one by one to reveal a thatch of dark hair. Geralt averts his eyes.

Jaskier preens. “I should think so. I’m the one who made him famous.”

The girl giggles. “Maybe you can tell me what he likes then,” she says, looking back at Geralt from under her lashes. Her hands are still on Jaskier’s chest.

“I reckon I have an idea,” Jaskier says, and something about that sends a shiver up Geralt’s spine.

“Good,” the girl says, sliding the chemise off Jaskier’s shoulders. “It’s hard to tell with the strong and silent type.” She smiles at Geralt as she says it, though, so it doesn’t feel too much like a criticism.

“Do you think he’d like to go first, or would he prefer to watch?” She’s playing with the strings on Jaskier’s trousers now, teasing them around her fingers, the blue fabric bright against her rosy skin.

“Oh, he wants to watch,” Jaskier says, with absolute surety. Geralt’s eyes fly to his, because what the fuck, Jaskier, but he finds Jaskier grinning like this is all perfectly delightful and not gearing up to be the most mortifying thing that’s ever happened to either of them.

“That work for you, big boy?” she asks, and Geralt doesn’t really know what to do other than nod. She indicates a chair in the corner of the room. “Make yourself comfortable, if you like.”

Unsure why this situation has made him so meek, he settles in the chair as he’s told. From here he can’t really help but get a full view of the bed.

April pushes Jaskier on to the bed with some force and he goes willingly, laughing. She climbs onto him and buries her face into his neck, where Geralt knows from prior observations that Jaskier is sensitive. He squirms beneath her attentions, cheeks flushing, hands running up her sides and over her breasts which are spilling out from her top.

Geralt can see glimpses of her hands as well, first opening Jaskier’s trousers, then pushing them down and wrapping around his cock. Jaskier groans and Geralt can smell his arousal, sharp and spicy, making his own heart beat pick up in sympathy.

She sits back to remove Jaskier’s trousers completely, which he tries to help with a gets a playful smack for, and then she’s pushing him down again and bending to lick stripes up his now clearly hard cock. Geralt doesn’t know where to look.

When she swallows Jaskier’s cock down in one go, Jaskier arches his back and Geralt's attention is drawn to the long, elegant line of his neck, the tight cords of muscle running out to his shoulders. Geralt fidgets in the chair, his trousers uncomfortably tight.

It's because of the girl, obviously, that he's feeling so on edge. She really is very pretty, and watching a pretty girl sucking cock would get any man going, wouldn't it?

Geralt finds his fingers playing through his trousers without him meaning to, although April notices from the corner of her eye.

"You can take care of yourself while you watch," she says, pulling off with a wink. "We won't mind, will we?"

Jaskier looks at him with a smirk. "We won't mind at all."

Geralt scowls, feeling strangely put upon. But if that's what’s expected... He unlaces his trousers and sighs in relief when he wraps a hand around his aching cock.

As April gets back to work, Jaskier strokes a finger down her cheek, and Geralt is struck by how tender his is, even when he has no need to be. Most men couldn't be less interested in the comfort of a whore they're with, but Jaskier cares about everyone, it seems, even someone he'll only see for one night.

When she gets her hands involved, Jaskier throws his arms above his head and twines his fingers into the headboard. Geralt's mouth goes very dry, for some reason, at the sight of Jaskier stretched out and braced for pleasure. Geralt spits in his hand and works himself over, carefully not thinking too much about it.

What's somewhat disconcerting is the fact that Jaskier keeps looking over at him, his eyes darting back to Geralt while a woman sucks his cock. The first time it happens Geralt's breath hitches, and he thinks he should really tear his gaze away from Jaskier's face and focus at the action, so to speak. But something in the way Jaskier bites at his lip, head thrown back in gratification, has heat racing under Geralt’s skin. He works himself harder, faster, eyes on Jaskier and discomfort with the situation rapidly eclipsed by desire.

When Jaskier's breath becomes more irregular and more gasping, April pulls off again. "You want to finish in my mouth or inside my pussy, sweetheart?" she asks.

"Your mouth is a joy and a delight, which I would be honoured to continuing appreciating," Jaskier says, effusive as ever, and she gives him a sweet smile.

"As you like." She turns to Geralt. "Maybe now you'd like to join us, love?" She pushes her skirt up over her wide hips, showing off the curve of her arse. Looking at him, she reaches behind herself, sliding a finger over her wet lips and dipping it inside. "You wouldn't leave me so bereft, would you?"

Geralt is nothing if not chivalrous, and he does appreciate being given clear instructions. So he stands from the chair and walks over to the bed, hand still on his cock as he takes in the view.

Jaskier is lying on his back on the bed, with April on all fours over him. And she's in the perfect position for Geralt to stand behind her and line up his cock with the inviting slick of her lips, swollen and rosy.

As he enters her it's like warm, wet velvet enveloping his cock, and by gods, he's missed this.

He sets a slow, languid pace, not wanting to be too demanding. The only issue is that from this angle, he can see the curve of her hips and the soft lines of her back, leading up to her dark hair. But he can also see Jaskier, spread out beneath her, all long limbs and firm muscle, face slack with pleasure as she takes his cock into her mouth. It's... distracting, that's what it is.

There’s nowhere else he can reasonably look though, so he stares down at the pair of them as he fucks her, noting the little shivers that pass through her body and the way Jaskier twitches when she swirls her tongue.

When she pushes back to meet Geralt’s thrusts, urging him to go faster, he doesn’t fight it, letting himself be led. She takes Jaskier down with even more enthusiasm as well, and soon Jaskier’s pants become whines and his hands grip more tightly to the headboard. Geralt watches, fascinated, as Jaskier trembles and arches, making a series of filthy noises that spark something deep and primal inside him.

When Jaskier tenses and comes, Geralt can smell it, the salty tang of his seed flooding the air even as April swallows it down like the professional she is, and it’s overwhelming and intoxicating.

He thrusts into her harder, his control fraying, eyes drawn to Jaskier who sighs and stretches on the bed, soft and smiling, hair flopping in his eyes. She moans encouragements and Geralt allows himself to let go, to give in to what his body wants, drinking in the view of soft skin and a broad chest and long, dark hair and blue, blue eyes.

It really doesn’t take him long after that. His fingers flex against her hips and with a few final thrusts he’s coming inside her, shuddering as his release races through him, unwinding his tense muscles and flooding his body with a feeling of gasping satisfaction.

He lets himself luxuriate in the feeling for a few seconds, eyes scrunched shut, blood racing through his veins, limbs heavy.

When he opens his eyes he sees Jaskier looking right at him, studying his face intently. His heart is still racing and the warm, dozy sensation of orgasm makes him feel strangely vulnerable. He quickly looks away, something like guilt flicking through him, then pulls out and offers a polite hand to April. She thanks him with a saucy grin and stands to rearrange her skirt.

When Jaskier rolls off the bed and goes to fetch his clothes from the floor, April touches Geralt gently on the wrist. "Will you be staying long in town?"

"Leaving tomorrow. Duty calls."

She nods, understanding. "If you're ever back in the area, look me up," she says with what appears to be genuine enthusiasm. "I'm always happy to have repeat customers." She casts a glance at Jaskier and speaks in a low voice. "Though perhaps next time my presence won't be necessary, hmm?"

She looks at him like that's significant. Geralt has no idea what she could possibly mean.

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Cutie

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Summary: While out with the Team, Spencer is made to feel unworthy because of his cane so Y/N tries to reassure him

Warning: Self-hate/doubt, discrimination, bit of fluff

Words: 1,518

A/N: I saw a post about S5 Spencer with his cane and I just had to write something!

Master List HERE     Permanent Tag List HERE 

The music was loud, the beat travelling through the seat and vibrating through your bones. The lights flashed overhead, the spotlight swinging across the dance floor as a mass of people jump to the music.

You lean back in your seat, holding your drink to your chest as you take a sip. You laugh as you watch Derek and Penelope dance, Derek spinning her round before pulling her in close with a huge smile on his face. Your eyes trail over to the bar, checking on Emily but she seems to be fine, smiling and chatting with a pretty blonde. JJ and Will, who had got a babysitter to look after little Henry, sat huddled together with Will whispering in JJ’s ear as she bit her straw. You quickly looked away; you loved those two but honestly… you didn’t not want to know.

 Your eyes are drawn to Spencer, the sound of him sliding his glass of coke onto the table catching your attention. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable in the seat next to you, his eyes trailing over the club, his right hand playing with cane.

 Spencer hardly went out with the team, and this was the first time he had been out since he was shot. When out on ‘team nights’ you often stayed with Spencer. While you enjoyed going out for casual drinks, you did not enjoy the clubbing scene. While your friends danced and chatted up someone who fit their tastes, you and Spencer would sit in a booth, watch their drinks and talk about whatever nonsense came to mind.

 Tonight was different. Spencer seemed to be more uncomfortable than usual. On an ordinary night, he would be tense for the first hours before relaxing into conversation with you, his eyes flitting over to your friends to ensure they were okay. On this occasion, after being in the club for nearly two and a half hours, Spencer was not settled.

 “What’s wrong?” you ask him, leaning towards him so that he could hear you.

“I…I’m just going to go” he sighed, looking around awkwardly. “People are looking at me.”

You looked at his face for a moment and he flashed his eyes over to a small group. You followed his clue, eyes landing on a group of women who were looking at him. You looked back at Spencer, playful tracing your finger along his jaw, “Of course they’re looking at you, Spence, you’re a cutie.”

“It’s not actually me they’re looking at, Y/N, it’s the leg, the cane, that’s got their attention” he gives a small nod back to the group.

 You look back over at them and actually take notice this time. They were only a few tables down from you, so you could see their eyes, even in the low lighting. Your smile dropped. Two of the girls were still looking over at your table and you could see their eyes were focused on Spencer, their gaze taking in his walking cane. One of the other girls in the group is talking to the group, but her face is at an angle where you can just make out her lips.

 “As if he’s actually come here with a cane, what the fuck? What’s he getting at?”

 If you could make out the words, Spencer definitely could. He was a much better lip reader than you.

 You drop your glass onto the table and push your chair backwards. “Hey, JJ, Spence and I are gonna go. It’s getting late and he promised to take me for breakfast tomorrow.”

JJ paused mid giggle, turning away from Will. “Okay, Y/N, we’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah,” you smile before turning to Spencer. “Come on, cutie, home time.”

 To leave the club, you have to pass the group of women. You stay close by Spencer’s side in a show of support, your hand gently resting on his back as you make your way outside. On your way past, your eyes meet those of the woman that spoke. You give her your best glare and it clearly works as she quickly looks away.

 Once outside, you led Spencer to your car. You only ever drank lemonade on nights out, ensuring that you sober enough to drive home. Normally, you drove most of the team home but Will was here tonight and he hadn’t been drinking, he could ferry people back.

 “You can stay at mine tonight, cutie, I can’t not be bothered to drive the extra ten minutes” you told him, reaching your car.

“Can you stop calling me that” Spencer sighed.

“What, cutie? Why?” you asked, turning to face him. “I thought you liked it when I used nicknames?”

“I do but not…not that one” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m not cute. I’m awkward and now, I’ve got a messed-up leg. I might not be able to walk without a cane ever again and what would that mean for my job? The FBI won’t want an agent who can’t even support their own weight. Did you know, disabled individuals have to apply for sixty per cent more jobs than non-disabled people before they get a job? Not to mention the fact, people obvious don’t like that I’m using a cane. I wasn’t the most attractive anyway but now? With this cane? I get comments like the one from that girl. And worse.”

 You stood there in silence for a moment, just staring at the man before you. Was that really what he thought? Oh god, please no. Your eyes focused on him, the way he looked back at you with such sadness, fear and pain, his chest heaving at his outburst. You took a step closer to him, your hand going to hold his arm gently.

“Spence, no, you can’t think that about yourself” you shook your head. “Yeah, you can be awkward but hey, so can everyone at times. Its actually really endearing. You got injured in the line of duty, when saving a mans life… that’s incredible. I mean, I’m not happy you got hurt, but you know…” you gave an awkward shrug. He gave a soft snort at your words, shaking his head but you could see the tiny smile. “And your job is being a profiler. You don’t have to go round literally chasing unsubs to be a profiler, I mean, the FBI already made an exception to let you in the field anyway. You’re almost as bad as me when it comes to foot chases and that’s saying something. Remember when I tripped over that rock while chasing Markowitz?”

 You both laughed for a moment, remember that day in Ohio. You’d been chasing the unsub when you’d tripped and fell straight over. Spencer had stopped to help you, checking out your grazes while Derek and JJ had continued in the pursuit of Markowitz.

 “Anyway,” you shook you head, smiling fondly at the memory. “You can still do your job without being in the field, and you’re proved that already. Plus, you’re the best profiler the FBI has ever seen. They’d be crazy to get rid of you, and you know what? I wouldn’t let them. We need you, the team needs you, the whole country does. And that statistic? That’s a statistic for discrimination. Their asses should be beat, and you know it. Also, I’m not going to stop calling you ‘cutie’. You’re cute, Spence, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Cane or no cane, long hair or short, glasses or no glasses, sharp suit or your little cardigans… you’re a complete cutie. Honestly, I don’t understand why you think you’re so unattractive because honey, I don’t see it. Honestly, you should look at yourself because da-”

 Your words are cut off as an arm wraps around your waist and your pulled into his chest. Your eyes widen as Spencer presses his lips against yours. Your frozen in shock, unable to move, to respond, as he kisses you.

 Had you dreamed of this before? Sure, but you never thought it would happen. Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. He was tall with curly brown hair and a one-hundred-watt smile. He was kind and generous, thoughtful and sweet. In all honesty, he was the pack deal.

 You’d harboured a crush on him for a while now. His laugh made your stomach flutter, his smile warmed your insides. You found yourself paying even more attention to his spirals of information, though you had always paid attention anyway. Your eyes were drawn to his hands – oh those mouth-watering hands!

 While you had a thing for him, you had no idea that he felt anything more than friendship towards you.

 Spencer pulled back, his hands dropping from your waist as his eyes widened. He seemed shocked by his own behaviour while simultaneously fearful of your reaction. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry!”

“Shut up” you order, grasping him by the shirt and pulling his lips down to meet yours again.

 Yes, Spencer Reid with a cane was just as good as Spencer Reid without a cane. What were those women thinking?

[shoujolover-666]

Apple Kisses

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27032116

Ship: Yandere!Neige LeBlanche x Vil Schoenheit

Warnings: Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Yandere

Vil stared into the mirror, a blank look was on his face as he let the man with ebony black locks caress his own golden tresses. A pair of soft lips ghosted over the nape of his neck, which caused him to shiver slightly. He could hear a soft chuckle from behind him before he felt the sting of a bite.

The man who played with him, almost as if he was a doll, was Neige LeBlanche, the man who was known for his gentle beauty that almost toppled kingdoms and his kindness.

It made him want to laugh, but he wasn’t able to. If it was because of his unique magic he used on him or the pure ridiculousness of the situation, he didn’t know.

“I am so happy to have you with me like this, Vil-Senpai.”

Neige almost purred as he wrapped his arms around the older man’s shoulder, placing his chin on the shoulder of the person who sat on the expensive looking chair. Chocolate brown eyes were gleaming, they were oh so different from the now dull violet looking eyes. Still, to the Royal Swords Academy student, they looked like the most beautiful pair of purple diamonds. A rarity that only few people in the world could actually afford.

Fingers were exploring each and every inch he could reach as he indulged himself in the luxury of being able to be this close to his idol, the man he had always looked up to for such a long time now.

Oh, he could clearly remember the hushed whispers of some students when he was in middle-school. Words were spread about a person with the name of Vil Schoenheit and how he took over the world of fashion and celebrities by storm with his beautiful and alluring appeal while working so hard, even when he didn’t need to.

A man who also had all kinds of rumors cling to him.

How he offered favours to get to the place where he was now. Back then, he didn’t care too much about the gossip, because the world of social media never had been something that he did belong in. With time, he got to see him more and more though. On television, on flyers and even on big screens that showed advertisements.

Each and every time he saw him, his heart started to beat a bit faster and he was able to feel how his cheeks warmed up, his face ending up flushed. At first he thought it was simple admiration of how beautiful a person could be, but with time, he noticed that he never elt like this with anyone else, no matter how beautiful they were as well.

No, only the blonde man was able to make his blood boil with passion like this. It almost felt like the call of a siren, each time he saw him, he couldn’t help but get drawn to him more and more. At one point, he couldn’t stop himself anymore from trying to get closer to him.

He wanted to be able to work with him, to talk to him, to be closer to him than anyone else was. Neige wanted to be on his mind, to be his everything, just as Vil was everything to him.

That was the reason why he threw himself into the world of glitz and glamour without hesitation. If it meant that his wish would come true like that, he would even give up his position as a prince.

The stares he got at first were almost unbearable. He knew that people tended to think that he was good looking, but most of the people he interacted with were polite enough to pretend that they did not stare. Now, it was different. As a person who got more and more famous, it was only common to be looked at, to have the attention of other people.

It was uncomfortable to him, but he persisted. Thinking about how this was only a small sacrifice if it meant that he got the chance to glance at Vil without the screen separating them helped him go through this.

When the time arrived in which he finally stood directly in front of the fair beauty, he had to try his hardest to prevent himself from shaking and squeaking like the excited fan he was. Instead of giving in to the urge to react how he usually would, he simply reached his hand out to him with a smile as a greeting.

A gasp almost escaped his lips the moment he felt the soft and warm sensation of the taller man’s hand on his. Vil’s smile was refined and refined, and it only made him want to faint on the spot.

It was almost as if a queen stood in front of him, regal and prim. Oh how he wished Vil would agree to become his, to become the one who would rule and stay just right by his side.

How he would love to shower the other model with love and all the luxuries the world had to offer.

None of Neige’s inner thoughts were betrayed as he simply kept his innocent smile on his lips.

Since then, they met each other more and more often because of collaborations. The black haired noticed how his own fame started to rise more and more with each job he took, just so he would be able to get closer to Vil.

And then he was suddenly the one who was known as the fairest of them all. Something that he did not anticipate.

In the beginning, it was awful. The eyes that looked at him with a calm neutrality at first turned more and more hostile.

He wanted to beg him, asking him to forgive him… when a certain thought came across his mind.

Didn’t it mean… that Vil would be focused solely on him? Neige’s mood improved immediately and he started to work even harder to keep his new found status.

Like this, he got more and more chances to work with him. He couldn’t be happier, it almost felt like a dream come true. Until it didn’t.

The routine of feeling the hate filled gaze locked on him when he wasn’t looking at Vil was something he was used to by now. If he had to be honest, he almost anticipated it. That was why it was so strange to him when he did not feel the burning look on him.

Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Who was the blonde man who stood next to him so carelessly? Why was Vil not bothered by him in the least and paid more attention to him than to Neige? What did he have that the black haired man didn’t?

For the first time in his life, he felt angry towards someone. Wrath started to consume him, but he hid it behind the sweet smile he was known for.

“Ah, isn’t it Roi de Pomme?”

The man with the hat looked at him and bowed before he introduced himself. Not that he really cared about who he was. “My name is Rook Hunt, I hope you are going to have a successful shooting, oui?”

Neige noticed how Vil rolled his eyes. To most, it was a gesture of annoyance, but to him, it was something different. It told him how close they were to each other that the beauty would do something like this. He could feel the burning feeling of jealousy in his chest, it almost robbed him of his breath, but he kept himself in check. No, it would not do him any good if people were to find out that ugly side of him.

Ah, it was time to speed up his plans. The prince wanted to take his time and coerce him into being his slowly with time, show him what he could offer him, but there was no time for that.

He had to act now, before someone who was not worthy of Vil would snatch him away from him.

~ 🍎 ~

Vils eyes were focused on Neige for a moment before he looked away again. Right now, the black haired menace was not his priority.

There was a reason why he took Rook, his Vice, with him. Lately, there have been strange occurrences. Things that belonged to the third year student of Night Raven College started to disappear. At first, it was nothing special. Sometimes it was something as simple as a can he left standing, sometimes it was some food that he didn’t want to eat anymore.

Nothing special.

Then, other things started to go missing. Lipsticks that he used, handkerchiefs that he put down for later, even some pieces of clothes vanished without him knowing who the culprit behind these actions was.

He hoped that Rook would be able to find out who was responsible for these actions.

Maybe that was why he could care less about Neige this time. Finding the person who stole his things had a higher priority this time.

A hand grabbed his all of a sudden, pulling him out of the world of his own thoughts. “We should go, Vil-Senpai. The shooting is going to start soon.”

And with that, he was dragged along by the man who was shorter than him.

They let the make-up artists apply some make-up on their faces before they were shooed to the canvas that were prepared for them. It was time to get to work.

All the while, Rook watched his surroundings with a smile. To anyone else, it seemed as if he was solely focused on the two celebrities, but that was not the case. As a hunter, he noticed everything that happened around him. There was nothing strange happening though. Not a single person was out of place, each of them doing their own work and fulfilling their purpose.

How strange. He knew that his queen was vigilant, but not to the point of being paranoid, so he trusted the other’s judgement.

Was the person who made his dorm leader worry like that suspicious of him? What a pity. He would have loved to hunt that person down for the beautiful man he served.

~ 🍎 ~

It was time for a break. Neige was on edge when he saw how the man from before approached them, but an honest smile appeared on his lips when he heard that he had to go because of some kind of business.

Good.

He waited for Rook to leave them alone completely before he turned to Vil again, who was touching up on his make-up himself. Neige felt the urge to tell him that the blonde haired man didn’t need to do that to make people fall for him, but he swallowed the words.

“Vil-Senpai?”

The other man popped his lips after he reapplied the purple lipstick he wore before turning to him, one elegant and thin eyebrow was raised.

“What?”

That single word was cutting, sharp, but he did not care. No, he would not let anyone else stop him from what he was doing.

With his goal set, he approached him. Vil didn’t even have the time to react when Neige grabbed his arm and pulled him down, pressing his pink coloured lips against the poisonous looking ones. His lips tasted bitter but were soft. The prince wished to simply get lost in the sensation, but he didn’t have the luxury.

“True Love’s Kiss.”

Purple eyes started to get glassy and lost their focus the moment Neiges lips touched him like that.

True Love’s Kiss. It was a skill that was inherited in each generation of his family. If they kiss a person while using their magic, the person would fall under a charming spell that made them obey the caster.

The prince never intended on using his Unique Magic on Vil like that, but he saw no way to get around it. Too many threats were around his beautiful queen, and he did not want to risk losing him.  

A hand wandered to the entranced man’s cheek and caressed it. If he were in his usual state of mind, his hand would have been slapped away already. Now, that he got a taste of his kiss, he was calm, docile.

Excitement made a shiver run down his smile, and he couldn’t help but laugh to himself slightly. It sounded so innocent and sweet.

Neige would tell the people that the shooting had to be stopped, for Vil was not in condition to continue. Of course, as a good colleague, he would take care of him.

No one questioned him because of how they all believed that he was simply a sweet boy who dearly cared for his older co-worker.

Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

With no one stopping him now, he took Vil home with him, his hand tightly grasping the others’.

A soft melody was hummed by him.

Finally.

It was time for the future he always looked forward to. Of course he had to take care of the details later, like pulling Vil away from the eyes of the public and paying the headmaster of Night Raven College to throw the blonde student out of the school but the effort was worth it, for he now had his own princess, who was going to be his queen in the future.

It was his own Happily Ever After.

[jobrookekarev]

I Remember it All Too Well Chapter 4

Chapter Four of Six: So I Showed up at Your Party.

Words: 2600

Chapter Summary: Alex sees Jo at the bar with Link and Levi. As he begins to approach her, Link blocks Alex off and tells him to leave Jo alone. However, Jo is more willing to share the bar with him.

Story Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life.

Or

The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Levi Schmitt, and Atticus Lincoln.

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags:  Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption, Joe's Bar.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

After arriving back in Seattle, the last thing Alex wanted to do was go home alone. However, this was his new normal. As it was summer he got the kids for two weeks in Seattle at a time, instead of having to fly to Kansas to see them. Alex had tried to remain cheerful and positive on the plane ride back, but the twins could sense his feelings. Although it wasn't the first time Alex had dropped them off only to go back to Seattle, the kids still didn't understand why he wasn’t going home with them. It was a tearful goodbye at the airport that had stuck in his mind the whole plane ride home. 

At least next time they would all be in Seattle together as Izzie had agreed to fly out with them in exchange for letting her have the weekend in Chehalis with her mom. Robbie Stevens had apparently been on better terms with Izzie after she left Seattle and was a decent grandma to the kids. The second Alex's plane touched down at SeaTac he seemed to be on autopilot as left the airport and drove back up to Seattle. Somehow he ended up back at the hospital, but instead of going back to work, he decided to hop across the street to Joe's Bar. 

When Alex walked into the bar he wasn’t surprised to see that it was still the same as it always was. The neon lights still hung on the walls, peanut shells still littered the floor, and the old jukebox in the corner played the same old songs. Alex quickly went over to the bar and greeted the bartender as he ordered a beer. He looked around the room and wasn't surprised that he didn't recognize anybody until his eyes landed on a booth in the corner. There sat Levi, Nico, and Link, and then he saw her. Jo sat at the booth next to Link as she smiled and talked with them while she drank. Alex stared at her for a moment and as if she could sense his eyes, Jo looked around the room and their eyes met.

Even from across the room, he could see her light brown eyes glow in the low light as she stared at him intently. They hadn't spoken since he laid out his heart to her in the hallway of the hospital a few weeks ago. Yet, as she held his gaze now he suddenly got the urge to get up and go to her. Jo's eyes pulled him in like a lasso and before he knew it, he was walking across the bar to her. 

Jo continued to stare at him. Her lips slightly parted in a look of longing as she held his gaze. He had that longing too, Alex always had a longing for her. It was the same feelings that had always drawn him to her. Jo was so similar to him, in the way they grew up, the way they ran, and their anger, but also in their humor, and the way they cared for patients. In love and in life, they were so similar and Jo understood him like no one else did. 

It was comforting, she was the one truly familiar thing at the bar and he missed just hanging out with her. He was so lonely without the twins and with Meredith working tonight, he thought he'd end up drinking alone. As he got closer to their table he saw her eyes sparkle and there was a hint of a smile on her lips. Alex was almost to her booth when suddenly Link was standing in front of him. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Link said, glaring at Alex as he crossing his arms, and raising his eyebrows at him. 

Alex seemed to step out of his daze as he looked at Lincoln and Levi who had stood up to form a wall between him and Jo. “I saw you were here and I thought I’d just come over and say hello.”

“We all know you're back, Alex,” Link said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’ve been back for a while now and if we wanted to drink with you, we would have asked.”

“Yeah,” Levi added, although he was not the least bit intimidating.

“Can I at least talk to Jo,” Alex said, gesturing to the woman that was hidden behind them. 

“No,” Link said, taking a step forward. “You don’t get to talk to her, you don’t get to look at her, and you don’t get to just walk back into her life after everything you’ve done to her.” 

“I never expected to,” Alex said, but Link cut him off again.

“You left. This wasn't a mutual thing, where the both of you decided to break up. You left, Alex,” Link said as he loomed over Alex. “You know I trusted you. I trusted you to love her and to take care of her in the way that Jo has always deserved to be loved, but instead, you broke her heart and you left.”

“I know and I am truly sorry. I told Jo that...” Alex started to say, but Link quickly interrupted him, not even letting him get a word in edgewise. 

“Have you? Have you really taken the time to apologize, because it sure as hell doesn’t seem like you have. Jo certainly would have told me if you had. She did say that you explained it to her, but it just sounds like a lot of excuses to me. Do you know what Jo did when you left? She took the pain that you caused and she made sure that I didn't make the same mistake that you did, and walk away from Amelia. Now you're a fool for having left her and you're a fool for thinking you can come back. So you can take your sad and miserable self and walk away.”

Alex stood there and he took it. He took every word that Link said to him because he deserved it. “I know. You're right, I was a fool for leaving Jo.”

Link seemed a little surprised at Alex's words and the anger left his face. Alex was happy that Link had been there for Jo since he left. He knew Link would be of course, but he was still happy that Jo had someone to confide in and that Link looked after her.

“Link, let Alex be.” Jo’s hand on Link’s shoulder and her soft voice caught Alex’s attention again as she got up from the booth. “Look, it's late and I told the sitter I'd be home before ten.”

“You don't have to go if you don't want to,” Alex said looking at her as he caught her eye again, those amber eyes still pulling him in. It was only eight, so he knew she was lying about having to get back to the sitter and he didn’t want to make Jo more uncomfortable and he already had. “You guys are clearly having a good time here, so I'm going to go, and don't worry I won't try and talk to you at the bar again.”

Alex turned away before Jo grabbed his arm. “Alex wait.”

It was the first time they had touched and it felt so familiar and natural. Alex turned around and looked at her as Jo realized she was still holding his arm. She looked down at her hand before she dropped it. Jo’s hand left an invisible impression on his arm and he could still feel the weight of her fingers on his sweater. He remembered how she felt in his arms when he held her and he missed her weight in his arms and in his heart.

Jo looked down before she looked back up at him and held his gaze. “You don't have to go. We don't own the bar, I mean, I technically own part of the hospital and I didn't kick you out of there, so you can stay. If you want to. I'll make sure the boys, don't bother you anymore.”

“I wasn't bothering him. If anything he was...” Link started to say, but Jo shut him up with a glare. 

“No it's okay, I should be getting home anyway. I've got early morning rounds with the residence and I need to be awake so I can remember all their names and stuff,” Alex said, with a nod trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince her.

“Okay,” Jo said with a nod of her own before she sat back down. 

Alex had to tear himself away from her as he turned around and walked back to the bar. He quickly paid for his drink and left. As Alex opened the door to walk up the stairs, he glanced back and saw that Jo was still staring at him. As their eyes met, Jo gave him a soft smile and he easily returned her smile. Jo quickly ducked her head and looked back at Link as they talked and Alex sighed. 

Just that simple smile was enough to send his heart to the clouds. Even after all these years, Jo still made him feel like he did when he was first fell in love with her. Alex adored Jo. Her simple smile had made his heart beat faster, and for now, that smile was enough.

……………………………………………………………………

“You didn't have to do that you know,” Jo said to Link after Levi and Nico went to the bathroom to make out and she knew they probably wouldn't be back anytime soon. “You don't have to go full on big brother mode and protect me from Alex.”

“I know, but I wanted to, Jo. The way he left you was not okay and I know that you've forgiven him, or you're in the process of doing so, but you can't just give him a free pass without making him do the work to repair the damage he did.”

“I'm not just giving him a free pass,” Jo said with a shake of her head as she looked up at the door despite how Alex had left a few minutes ago. “Look, I know Alex. I was married to him. I know the way he thinks and why he's doing what he’s doing now. Plus, it’s my decision to forgive him or not and I can make my own decisions.”

“I know, you're right and I'm sorry,” Link said looking down at his drink. 

“It's okay,” Jo said, nudging him with her shoulder and leaning against him. “I don't need you to be my big brother, but I appreciate that you still are.”

“Anytime,” Link said, putting his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers. “You'll always be my annoying little sister.” 

“Um, annoying? Excuse you, I am a pleasure to be around, I'm pretty sure your parents like me better than they like you,” Jo scoffed as she sat back with a laugh.

“That is annoyingly true,” Link said with a shake at his head. “I can't believe how much they adore you.”

Jo laughed as she remembered the cancerversary dinner she had attended with Amelia and Link a few months ago. She got a text from her babysitter the teenager down the street named Elsie, saying that Asher had gone down for the night, along with an adorable picture of him asleep in his crib. Jo sighed at the photo and showed it to Link. She missed her baby and was ready to go home for the night. 

Link offered her a ride home and they texted Levi and Nico a goodbye as they were still in the bathroom together. Link dropped her off at Meredith's, before driving up the street to the house he and Amelia had bought. It had been a few months since her own house hunt had started and she still hadn't found a house. Every place she looked at was either too big or too small. She had told her real estate agent that she wanted a three bedroom house, but everything she saw just seemed too small. Jo didn't know what the future held, and she wanted a place that would be her’s permanently. 

Jo walked into the house and let herself in through the side door, by the stairs. Meredith’s kids were still up, and she quickly said hello to them. She paid Elise and sent her home before she headed upstairs. Meredith's kids had their own nanny, but four kids was a little too much for her. So Jo always asked Elise, to watch Asher whenever she wanted a night out.

Jo quietly opened the door to her room, leaving the lights off, and crept over to the crib in the corner. Asher must have woken up as when she peered into the crib, he looked up at her and smiled. He was holding the knitted lion that Grandma Helen had sent out to him and kicked off the blankets.

“Mama,” Asher cooed and reached up for her as Jo leaned down to pick him up. Every time he called her mama, her heart swelled with love for her son. 

“Hello my sweet boy,” Jo said cuddling him close. 

She grabbed the blanket and put it around him as she walked over to sit in the rocking chair. Jo cuddled Asher closer as he laid his head on her shoulder and she rocked back and forth. Within a few moments, his big brown eyes were fluttering close as she kissed his head. In the dark and peaceful night, Jo took a moment to watch her son sleep in her arms. 

At almost a year old he was starting to lose his baby fat as he grew taller each day. He still had the full head of dark hair that grew out so fast she could hardly keep up. She had let it grow out past his neck in an effort to only have to cut it once a month. When Jo picked him up from the fire station she had fallen a little bit in love with him. She and Alex were trying at the time and Jo was ready to be a mother. After Alex left she had made the impulsive decisions to foster and low and behold Asher needed a placement. She had said yes in an instant and they had been a family ever since. 

Jo was happy with Asher and being a single mom, but she wanted to love again. Her friends with benefits relationship with Jackson had been the first step and she’d gone on a few dates, but nothing felt right. Now that Alex was back, it brought up a whole mess of mixed feelings she wasn't sure she was ready for, but a part of her wondered, what if. 

Certainly, things couldn't go back to the way they were before, but there was a part of her that would always be in love with Alex Karev. Jo wasn't sure if she was ready to be in a relationship with him again, despite how she had forgiven him. However, Jo had made up her mind. She was ready to talk to Alex again and she was curious as to how things would develop from there. 

[local-paranoid-cryptid]

SBI ft reader part 1

ya’ll didnt think I was gonna post the entire thing right? anyway, the reader is based off of mother nature and in this techno is gonna be a family friend (so no cannon family)

tw: none that I can remember :)

word count in this chapter:1661

status: unedited

It was a warm spring day, Phil scouted the area around the castle. He was the best at spotting and hunting people down, after all he was hand picked by the king himself out of almost 300 men and women.

Phil was a young man, around his early 20s, with sharp eyes and massive wings. He earned himself the nickname "Angel of Death" because of his scarily amazing combat skills and his ability to attack without a sound, but unsuprisingly he had little to no friends or mutuals due to his intimidating reputation and apperence.

Thats when he met a boy, about 9, maybe 10, stealing bread from the local bakery. Phil caught him, of corse, but when he saw the state of the boy, clearly malnourished and tired, he didn't make him return the food, instead Phil paid for it and watched the boy scamper away into alley. He later learned that the boys name was Wilbur and it wasn’t uncommon to see the boy stealing or getting into large street fights for money. Phil had offered him food, and of course he didn’t pass up an offer for food, but by the time Phil opened his mouth to ask him something he was gone.

One day Phil runs into the boy again, but not in a way you’d expect. Phil had finished doing his usual patrols around the castle when he feels something tug at his sleeve. Looking down he sees a small boy in a large dirtied shirt with holes, bright blue eyes, and blonde hair with bits of mud stuck in it. He must have been about 5 or 6 because he spoke in a fast and nervous voice, too fast for Phil to process. Next thing he knew though was that he was being dragged by the sleeve by a dirt swearing child, to see Wilbur thrashing against police hold. “Is there a problem here?” He asks the police, they explain that Wilbur was under arrest for assault and theft. The kid grunts, seeing the blonde boy behind Phil, “Tommy what the fuck?! I told you to run!!” He yells, seeming less angry and more frustrated. “These kids are with me, unless you have a problem with that, mate.” He spreads his wings threateningly, the police knew who he was and let Wilbur off with a warning. And that was how Phil adopted two kids off the street.

3 years had passed, Wilbur was now 12 while Tommy was 8. Phil was happy with the way things were, but eventually there were rumors of a new, powerful material deep in the hellscape they called the nether. The material was said to be a dark ashy black, and so powerful that it doesn’t burn in even the hottest of fires of the nether. That was the reason for its name, Netherite. Phil wanted to set out and look for the metal but we was worried for his kids so he found a babysitter that also happened to be his only friend from work, Captain “Sparkles” Jordan.

“Are you sure there gonna be fine mate?” Phil asks nervously with a backpack of supplies slung over his shoulder. Jordan assured his friend that the children would be fine, and with that Phil headed off to the nether.

To say the nether was hot was an understatement, it was a raging, blistering feeling when entering. The sudden change in temperature causes your head to spin and your body to feel a wave of overwhelming amounts of nausea.

Phil stared out in the horizon of at a group of striders, aww-ing at the babies and how they rode of the parents back. His eye caught on to a large black monument, a bastion.

He flew over the colossal lava ocean and landed softly on the ground. Phil’s eyes scan for any danger, but seeing nothing, and although he was grateful he was also uneasy about the situation. He looks through each chest and managed to find a lodestone, some iron and golden nuggets, and a golden pair of boots. Nothing too interesting, though he did find a disc in one of the chest. Phil decided to take this items and go on his way to find netherite.

A few hours of mining had passed and phil had manage to find 3 scraps. It was a bit disappointing in his opinion, he’s running low on water and his wings began drooping down to maintain coolness. Phil almost heads back to the portal when he sees something pink and black. He decided to take a look around the surrounding blue forest. After a few minutes of looking he spots what looks like a child with matted curly dusty pink hair, blood-red eyes, tusks pointing out the corners of his mouth, pink floppy ears atop his head, a thin build, pink bipedal legs, hooved feet, and a pink boar tail twitching lowly. not to mention the boy was soaked in blood, yet no visible signs of any injuries. Phil hears the boy clicking his teeth, a common warning amongst both piglins and domestic pigs.

There was something about the kid that tells him that the kid was dangerous, but nevertheless he pursued. He takes a step, slowly reaching into his bag. He pulls out a  baked potato, one of the many he brought for this expedition. Phil slowly reached his hand out, beckoning the hybrid to take it. It didn’t, and instead left. Phil leaves the vegetable on the floor and walks away, sitting cross legged about 15 feet away. He watched as the hybrid peaked around a blue tree, cautiously sneaking to the vegetable. He picked it up and scurried back to the trees.

This exchange continued for about a week, Phil enters the nether, puts a baked potato on the floor for the boy, sat and watched him from a distance as he grew more and more comfortable with Phil. So Phil was allowed to sit closer and closer, but the hybrid always scurried behind the same blue tree. Phil began talking to him, nothing specific, just what ever was on his mind, and the boy listened.

One day Phil brought the boy a carrot instead of a potato, the boy didn’t eat it or even touch the root. That’s when Phil grew more and more curious about him. He brought a variety of foods for the kid to try, a golden carrot, an apple, and three types of stew.

“He seemed to favor the suspicious soup and the golden carrots.” He spoke out loud  as he wrote in his leather-bound journal. His back was turned to the boy as he ate. The boy tilted his head and walked to the man, glancing over his shoulder at what he was writing. There he was a drawn picture of himself. Phil froze as he sees the boys shadow peer over him, but he continued writing, “likes apple, did not like rabbit or mushroom stew.”

Eventully Phil was allowed to sit next to the boy as he ate, giving him paper to write and doodle. that's how Phil found out his name, "technoblade".

One day, the boy just wasn't there, so phil left. after a week, the boy still hadn't turned up. He assumed that he'd left to his family, and left it at that.

Years past and the memories of the boy faded but were never completely gone. It was the first day of SMP earth, so Phil had a lot on his mind, but out of the corner of his eye he sees a man, about Phils height, but more muscular. He had an unreadable expression, peony pink hair, blood-red eyes, tusks poking out the corner of his mouth, scared floppy ears atop his head, bipedal legs, and a pink boar tail twitching lowly. His outfit was plain, a white button up top, black pants, and knee length gray boots. He looked familiar, but now Phil was too distracted by him and his sons parting ways to their own expeditions in conquest.

Technoblade watches the man hug his family, he recognizes him as soon as he saw the green and white striped bucket hat and those massive gray wings.

Techno turned his attention to someone else though, a girl whom he knew little about. There was just something about her that radiates both happiness and fear into people, not him of corse. He was the blood gods vessel! Feared by many, both powerful and powerless! yea..

When techno arrives onto Africa for resources he didn’t expect to see the girl. He’d managed to get a good view of her as she reached out to a trees branch, the tree leaned into their touch, miraculously bearing fruit for them.

The girl wore a long brown corduroy coat, a green knit turtleneck tucked into a long black skirt, several tattered green fabrics layered over her skirt, and a black belt tied around her waist to keep it all in place, and oddly enough, no shoes. she had messy hair with an array of sticks and flowers crafted into some sort of crown. She tucked the fruit away gently into her bag and went on her way. Techno watched her leave into the woods and left without a sound to the volcano.

When Phil stepped out of his boat onto the crunchy snow he assumed there was no one there, until he sees footprints. When his blue eyes followed to trail of foot prints it led to the pink haired man he spotted in the entrance, and a girl he didn’t recognize. Phil flew to a level edge of the mountain, but techno hears the flapping of wings and moves in front of the girl protectively, sword in hand. Their defensive stances were tense until techno lowers his sword and his eyes soften, “Phil..?” Said man looked confused until he realized that he was standing in front of the same hybrid Piglin from years ago. “Technoblade?”

[buckysgoldenheart]

Escort: Bucky Barnes AU

Summary: You’re a highly paid escort, trained to adapt to any situation the client may need. But this next client is a first: A mother, hiring you for her son.

Words: 3370

I know i’ve done a bad thing and started another series, hopefully small. I am still working on the other ones, but after my dad died, I lost inspiration until this story popped into my head and i kinda ran with it. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and aren’t mad.   -Lauren

This may be triggering in a way. The title pretty much explains what this is about, but it’s not negative.

Part 1:

You had been doing this for long enough to get the gist of want your clients want. Some were lonely and wanted someone to talk to for the night. Some wanted to take you out and brag about the beautiful, young girl on their arm. Some, the usual’s, wanted a fake girlfriend to take to family engagements to avoid scrutiny. But you were not a prostitute in the sense of what people assume. Your boss, Maria, was very clear to all potential clients that her girls do not engage in sexual relations in exchange for money. That’s not what her business was about. You and your coworkers were too expensive for the ‘street creeps and weirdos,’ as Maria liked to put it.

You were a girl strapped for cash and would’ve rather put a bullet in your head than take another retail job to pay for your college classes. And when Maria advertised it to you, that bit about the exclusivity made it seem safe somehow, but being rich or famous, or both, did not make someone any less of a creep or a weirdo. So, Maria was more than willing to put down money for mandatory self-defense classes that you would complete before taking your first job. Now, you and the other girls could kick anyone’s ass, even someone twice your size. At the end of the day, there were worse jobs.

 —————————————————————————————-

You were barely through the front door of your modest apartment, high heels already discarded, when you heard your cell ring. The caller ID was not one you were allowed to ignore unless ill or on the brink of death, which you were neither, so you sighed and slid the answer button.

“Hello, Maria.”

Your boss wasted no time with pleasantries and got right to the point. “I know it’s late and you had a long day, but I need you to get down to the office immediately. I have a client here and after looking at her options, she has decided on you.”

You were slightly taken aback. Her? While it wasn’t unheard of to have women request Maria’s services, it was rare. Most were annoyingly wealthy men with underlying and deeply suppressed self-confidence issues.

You sighed, internally groaning. You were exhausted after some guy’s family reunion today. It was too long and too humid, and his family was too obnoxious; prodding you with questions as if they knew who you really were. But you couldn’t turn down Maria’s requests. It was in the contract.

“I’ll be right down.”

——————————————————————————

You were still in your dress and heels from the reunion earlier: A simple light blue, but expensive looking, sundress and strappy, silver sandals, when you exited the elevator. Walking down the corridor to Maria’s office at this hour, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was around as your heels clicked loudly with your steps. None of the other girls were there. There was always at least one or two.

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows for a moment before knocking lightly on Maria’s door. “Come in.” She said from the other side. You turned the handle and stepped in with a pleasant smile. “Y/N,” Maria also smiled. “I would like you to meet your next client.”

Then, she gestured a delicate hand to the woman sitting in one of the luxurious office chairs. You nearly gasped at who was before you. Mid-fifties, hair styled in a neat chignon, tailored suit, with diamonds along her neck and at her earlobes that showed off her wealth.

The Mayor.

“Y/N, sit.” Maria said, slapping you back to your senses. But you did as she said, taking the other chair two feet away from the most powerful woman in the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. She oozed power and class. “I would like you to meet Mayor Barnes.”

The Mayor smiled and turned in her seat to shake your hand. “You are lovelier than your picture.”

“T-Thank you.” You replied, shy in the presence of this woman.

After the introductions, Maria began her typical spiel that, when summed up, basically just meant you weren’t a hooker. “Oh, of course not.” The Mayor replied.  

“Wonderful,” Maria smiled and scooted the paperwork across the cherry wood desk towards you and Mayor Barnes. “You will both sign and be under contract. However, Y/N, this is a…unique…situation.” All you could do was gulp. “Mayor Barnes may be your client, but to clear up any confusion, you will not be her escort.”

“O-Ok.” You nodded slightly, waiting for the kicker.

“You will be her son’s.”

Your jaw dropped despite your best efforts to remain composed. Her son. Infamous, sexy-as-hell, playboy James Barnes, who couldn’t manage to stay out of the tabloids for a quick second. Why he would suddenly want a girl like you when women fell at his feet was the most confusing part of this. Well no, the most confusing part was that his mother was the one hiring you.

“You will take on the role of Mr. Barnes’s woman.” Ok, you thought, typical job. “But there is another condition that I have assured the Mayor will be no problem for you.”

You glanced at the Mayor who was looking at you with a sweet, genuine smile; like she was already prepared to accept you into the family. Clearly, this was a well-drawn out plan.

“Mr. Barnes has not been informed about any of this. And the toughest part of this job is that he can never know.”

“I don’t understand.”

The Mayor turned to you a little more, catching your full attention. “Let me explain, dear. My son, as most people can’t help but know, is quite accustomed to putting himself in the spotlight, though it only seems to be negative. He’s been called a number of things. Womanizer, man-whore, troublemaker, a disappointment, but I know my son. He’s just as his father once was; Young and handsome, running around dragging his name through the mud.” You blinked not nearly enough as you listened, and your throat was starting to dry out. Everyone knew of James Barnes and his questionable decisions, but you felt a pang in your heart at the way his mother spit out the names he’d been called by the media. “James is not really like what everyone says. I believe he’s just…lonely. He was so young when I was elected and neither his father nor I could spend much time with him. My own fault, perhaps, but I don’t want my son to keep making these choices. He’s better than this. He’s so handsome and smart and charismatic; he could do great things, but not if he keeps himself on this path. So, what I need from you, my dear, is to become someone James can trust. A fixture in his life, at least for a time. He needs a beautiful woman like you, not these floozies that keep hanging off him. I will have you meet him, accidentally on purpose, and it won’t take much for him to strike up a conversation with you. You are absolutely gorgeous, and James can’t seem to help himself.”

“You want me to be his friend?” You asked. “I thought I was supposed to be his woman, or girlfriend, or something along those lines.”

“I would love if it turned into that, but I recognize that this a job, one that you cannot do forever. I would prefer he not fall in love with you if only to break his heart. I won’t need your services once he turns his act around. I am hoping you can encourage a permanent change.”

“One other thing, Y/N,” Maria began as you digested all the information being thrown at you. “You won’t be taking on any other clients for the duration of this job. It would create some serious problems if the woman in James Barnes’s company was seen with other men. The media would blow up and come to some dangerous conclusions. And before you start worrying about how to pay your bills with only one client at a time, the Mayor is prepared to offer you triple your normal rate.”

Triple, you thought. Somehow that made you feel guilty. You already felt bad about this type of job. You were going to be deep in a lie that would last longer than an afternoon. A lie that could potentially hurt someone when your time was up, and the thought of Mr. Barnes learning who you really were made your stomach turn. No one in their right mind would swallow that discovery with an accepting smile.

But you agreed; Not that you had a choice. You signed the contract and Maria gave the Mayor your work number so she could contact you to let you know when and where to show up so you could conveniently run right into James Barnes.

———————————————————–

For the first time, you were nervous. James Barnes’s face has been splashed all over every magazine and stupid celebrity TV program for months, and you couldn’t deny how insanely attractive he was. He was rugged and beautiful at the same time, with a smirk you wanted to kiss and eyes to melt your soul. Not only that, but there was the fact that you would be in the most intense spotlight. While the other men you’ve spent time with were wealthy, they weren’t typically the kind of famous that drew too much attention. Certainly not enough for anyone to remember your face once the job was done. But this was different. A woman by James Barnes’s side for longer than an evening would bring about a nauseating level of attention, but you guessed that’s part of the reason you were getting triple the pay.

You sighed as you plopped down on your couch for the night, stretching your legs out in your comfy sweats and turning on the TV. Flipping through the channels, you immediately stopped when you caught James’s name coming out of some done-up woman’s bright red lips. As she spoke to the camera, she would gesture behind her to the large screen with James’s picture on it, his hand clearly on some random model’s ass. His new toy.

Finally looking away from his face, you focused on what the host was saying about him. “James Barnes, notorious, sexy bad boy and ladies’ man, caught seen with his newest fling, model and actress, Svetlana Antonov. Will this last? If you ask us, she’ll be gone by the end of the week. But who will be next?”

With a groan you clicked off the TV and tossed the remote to the side. “Vultures,” You mumbled. And then, suddenly, you wondered what would be said about you.

——————————————————————

Mayor Barnes, or Winnifred, as she preferred you now call her considering your new ‘personal relationship,’ phoned you no more than two days later. What you hoped would be something simple, like a coffee shop interaction or running into James on the street was, in reality, much more extravagant. The Mayor’s annual summer fundraiser ball. Only the best of the best A-list celebrities, financiers, and hotel heiress’ where invited; People who could donate a significant chunk of change in return for a reputation boost. This is where you would meet James Barnes.

Winnifred had sent over a deep blue Oscar de la Renta gown that had small diamonds speckled around the fabric making it look like the sky on a clear night, with a flowy-ness that when you walked gave the illusion of a refreshing breeze following your steps. There were also matching drop earrings and subtle, silver heels.

You felt amazing in the dress. Not like a princess, but a queen. Thankfully though, you were permitted to do your own hair and makeup. You let your hair tumble over your shoulders and kept your makeup delicate but glamorous enough to match the high quality of the gown.

You looked at your phone, quickly checking the time before slipping it into your clutch. Ready or not, it was time for you to go.

———————————————————————–

To your surprise, Winnifred also sent a limo to escort you. A note sat on the seat cushion that read ‘you couldn’t possibly arrive at the most exclusive event of the year in a cab,’ signed with a cursive ‘Winnie’ in the bottom right corner. You supposed she was right; it would look odd. This way you wouldn’t stand out negatively.

Inside, you gasped at the grandness of the ballroom. Not only was it nothing you had ever seen before, but it was something you couldn’t even imagine if you tried. It wasn’t what you pictured when told it would be a ball. It was more like a black-tie party in an up-and coming-club. The room was dark, but not too dark, with bluish-purple up-lighting, and private, velvety, plush lounges lining the walls that could be hidden by thin curtains. Some danced to the top 40 hits the DJ was playing, but many, mostly the older men, sat chatting and drinking expensive alcohol as young women, much like yourself, draped themselves over their laps.

You realized you had been to something like this before, but not nearly as nice. You had been the girl a man held at his side like a trophy; told not to speak, but to stand there and look pretty. It was like looking through glass at a piece of your life from a different angle. And it looked pathetic. But you had to push that thought from your mind because you had a job to do; one you had signed a contract for.

Looking around, you had no idea how the hell you were going to find James Barnes. His mother only told you he was wearing a blue suit. Not much help you realized, when you actually began to search.

After thirty frustrating minutes of sifting through bodies, you decided you needed a drink, and once you reached the bar, you figured maybe James would be the one to accidentally find you. What is that thing people say? Once you stop looking for a man, a man will come to you, or something like that. You hoped that was the case because you were sick of looking. So instead, you sipped your wine and people-watched.

After some time, you realized you probably looked like an uncomfortable wallflower. You started to explore around a little more, but with your gaze distracted, not watching where you were going, you slammed your shoulder against another’s and your wine glass fell from your hand. The dark liquid splashed all over the floor, and though no one heard the glass shatter over the music, the woman whose white dress was now stained with little red droplets certainly did.

“You LITTLE tramp!” She screamed over the music. “Look what you did!”

Before you could even apologize, the woman shoved you back with a growl and murder in her dark, brown eyes. She looked familiar and a second later you recognized her as Svetlana Antonov: model, actress, and James Barnes’s latest fling. And then…

“Babe, c’mon. It was an accident.” James Barnes. He looked down at the dress with a little chuckle. “It’s no big deal,” He said. “You have twenty of these designer things.”

When he looked up he met your eyes, and while you thought you saw his breath hitch, yours certainly did. Magazines and TV didn’t do him justice. “I-I’m sorry.”

James licked his lip as he stared at your own, then you blushed as the blue-grey irises trailed down to the curve of your throat and back up to your eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

“James!” Svetlana shrieked, and for the first time you noticed how heavy her Russian accent was. When he didn’t glance her way at her outburst, the model/actress/fling stomped away, muttering curses in her native tongue.

You wanted to stay and talk, but his presence had somehow stunned you into silence. Then you remembered something his mother told you over the phone: ‘Play a little hard to get. James could use a challenge.’

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” You smiled your sweetest smile that held a dash of sexiness. “I should probably go—”

“We haven’t yet.” He said, effectively cutting you off.

“I’m sorry?”

“We haven’t met yet.”

Your lips formed an ‘O.’ For whatever reason, you didn’t expect a comeback. “I’m James.” He reached out and took your hand in his rough yet warm one, then placed a kiss on your skin. “You can call me Bucky.”

You pulled your hand back and said a simple ‘Ok’ in response to his forwardness. He chuckled.

“And you are?”

You took a step back, smiled again, and cutely cocked your head to the side. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. I doubt we will be seeing each other again.” Then, you sauntered off, leaving James ‘Bucky’ Barnes speechless where he stood.

 ————————————————————————

At two in the morning, you were done. Your exhaustion had hit a new level and all you wanted was a hot bath and your warm bed, but you still had one trick up your sleeve that you hoped would peak James’s curiosity about you just a little more.

Some guests had left making it easier to hunt down your target. The second you actually began to look, you saw him causally leaning against the bar as he sipped a whiskey, staring at you like it was all he had done since you ran into him earlier. You kept eye contact long enough for him to smirk seductively. But, instead of going over to him like you knew he expected, you kept walking to the exit.

You didn’t see James’s smirk drop. You didn’t see him slam his whiskey glass down and quickly tip the bartender. And you didn’t see him trailing after you, but you knew he was. Because despite how he made your pulse increase to dangerous levels, you were good at your job, and his handsome face and charming smile wasn’t going to change that.

“Hey, wait!” You heard behind you. ‘Right on time,’ You thought, but you kept walking until a familiar warm hand wrapped itself around your upper arm and spun you around. “Wait.”

He was breathing a bit heavy and you made sure to bat your lashes in the moment where silence was between you. “Hello, old friend.”

He kept hold of you, darting his eyes over every feature of your face. “Friend’s know each other’s names.”

“What?” you gasped jokingly, your eyes widening along with the act. “Who told you that?”

His eyes narrowed and he inched his face closer to yours. “My other friends.”

“Oh, well, you and I have very different customs.”

James released your arms and crossed his own over a broad chest. “You’re really not going to tell me your name?”

“Is there some kind of law that requires I do, James?”

“Bucky.”

“James.”

“Bucky.” He stressed.

You sighed. “Fine…Bucky. I don’t see why you could possibly need my name.”

“How else am I going to see you again if I don’t at least have your name so I can track you down?”

You hummed in thought. “Don’t you already have a woman whose name you know? The model?”

“She’s not my girlfriend if that’s what your implying.”

“I wouldn’t care if she was.”

“You sure about that?” He asked, his lips quirking.

“Yes, I am…Bucky.” You chuckled. “Anyway, I should go. Early morning.” But, as you turned, he grabbed you again, this time your hand.

“Please.” He said to your back.

You smirked to yourself, knowing you had won for the night, then faced him again. The pleading look in his eyes almost broke your resolve.

“Y/N.” You said.

James smiled in victory. “Last name, too, sweetheart. I need both to find you.”

You rolled your eyes with a small grin. “Y/L/N. Happy now?”

“Very.”

Then, he let your hand go and watched as you left out the front doors.

tags: @dugan365​ @moonlightimagination​ @pietrotheavenger​ @marvel-fanfiction​ @hawkeyeharrington​ @dani-si​ @alyssiamking @wintersoldier98​ @then-there-was-me-emily​ @prxttybirdz​ @tessvillegas @xceafh​ @jazzwoman897​ @fandoms-who​ @meganwinchester1999​ @ufffg​ @debra77​ @rebelliouscat​ @anise-d-castle6​ @projectxhappiness​ @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​ @lowkeysebby​ @stringgeek13​ @quotemeow @notmyfault404​ @jjamesbbarness​ @stangirl4eva​ @guera31​ @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @lokilvrr​ 

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Eiji and Ankh, M (Ever Ever After by Carrie Underwood)

M is for music, and “Ever Ever After,” by Carrie Underwood, is a blast from the past for me and can be found on YouTube. (That version isn’t on Spotify, but if you want to listen to the song there, they do have a version by Jordan Pruitt.) After you read this, it may be worthwhile to go back and read this previous prompt.

Ankh is not, for the most part, familiar with the stories that humans tell each other for comfort. He couldn't care less about human comfort, honestly. But he does know one thing: fairy tale monsters don't get happy endings. If they're lucky they get to eat whatever sickening ingenue is the supposed hero of the story. Some run with their tails between their legs. Mostly, though, they die, killed by knights and heroes and the stupid sons of farmers.

He doesn't bother with the tales, but he's seen some of the art made to go with them. He knows what he is in this story. Consigned once more to a dull and colorless world in which Hino Eiji is the one inexplicable spot of color is probably the best ending he could have hoped for.

Even so, it’s getting harder to focus.

Initially, in the first few years after his...death, his loss, his shattering, he remains aware at all times. During the day he floats behind Eiji, silent and unseen, disgusted by the grayness of the world after a year of light and color. At night, he stands a useless guard, hovering over the one and only object of his desires as if he would be able to do anything to help should danger come. He sees adventures, triumphs, failures, so much gained and so much loss, many and many another hero coming and going and none of them ever as good.

And once, a single, glorious hour of new life, and the feeling of Eiji’s hand in his again.

It’s after that, really, that he finds things becoming difficult. Being able to manifest physically once more had been a gift, but it took so much energy. He continues to follow Eiji, because what else can he do? What else is there for him? But as time stretches on, he finds himself--blacking out, he supposes he might say, the way he sometimes sees Eiji grow tired and succumb to ever-longer blinks before finally falling asleep. At first the black-outs last for minutes, then hours, then days, eventually stretching out to weeks, or maybe months, or maybe longer. He’s only vaguely aware of the passage of time as it is.

And then, after the longest one yet--he wakes up. And he’s cold.

That’s what gets his attention first, that he’s cold, that he feels cold. It’s all he can think about for a minute or two, and then he shifts slightly and realizes that he has multiple limbs, that his hair is in his eyes, that he is stark naked except for a red silk he’d almost forgotten he once had and he seems to be sitting on the floor in someone’s living room.

The first thing Ankh says, having been resurrected, is, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Ankh?”

His head whips around. “Eiji? You, I, you’d better not be dead, I swear to fucking--what’s wrong, you’re extremely pale, what’s happened.”

Eiji grins at him, looking dizzy and, yes, pale, and raises his hand despite the quiet scolding of the old man currently wrapping it in bandages. “Well, it took kind of. A lot of blood.” An unsteady shift forward. “Actually, I think I need to take a nap.”

And he passes out, leaving Ankh to turn to the next person he sees--an elderly woman who’s looking very pleased with herself--and saying, “Ok, what the fucking hell just happened here, and what did you do to Eiji?”

--

Eiji regains consciousness to the sound of Ankh and Dr. Zhakiyanova arguing loudly in German, and Dr. Zhakiyanova‘s husband Dr. Caspari saying, in French, “Here, young man, sit up, you fainted, you need to eat something.”

This is easier said than done, but he does manage to struggle upright after a moment. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve eaten, young man. Here, there’s tea, and you should eat at least two cookies, it’ll take a bit to get your strength back up.”

Eiji considers pointing out that he’s hardly a young man, he’s nearly fifty, but then he takes a bite of the cookie Dr. Caspari hands him and decides that it really doesn’t matter.

For a few minutes he just sits there, drinking amazingly good tea and eating what might be the best cookies he’s ever had in his life and watching in joyful disbelief as Ankh continues to yell in German. Dr. Zhakiyanova stands there patiently, waiting until there’s a gap in his tirade, and then says, very clearly even to Eiji’s mostly-incomprehending ear, “Young man, perhaps you should put some clothes on.”

Ankh sputters out something about being older than her and then sits down heavily on the couch next to Eiji with his red silk wrapped around him like a robe of state. “Where the hell am I?”

Eiji swallows his mouthful of tea and says, “Northern Kazakhstan. Cookie?”

More outraged sputtering. “You gave your blood to some witch just to bring me back?”

“Hey, Dr. Zhakiyanova’s not just a witch, she has a PhD. She’s a highly respected academic.”

“Eiji. How much blood did it take?”

“About five hundred milliliters,” Dr. Caspari says cheerfully, pouring a cup of tea for Ankh. “No more than the average blood donation. As long as you eat well and take in plenty of fluids you’ll be fine.”

“He says--”

“I know French, Eiji, I know most human languages, I understood what he said perfectly well.“ Ankh takes a sip of tea, blinks several times, shudders, and then looks up at Dr. Caspari and says, in perfect French, “I haven’t eaten or drunk anything in an extremely long time.”

Dr. Caspari just says, drily, “We had gathered that, yes.”

Dr. Zhakiyanova, meanwhile, is puttering around on the other side of the living room, checking on her instruments and cleaning up the circle she’d drawn on the floor and making notes. She looks enormously pleased with herself, and after a moment says something in Kazakh to her husband, who translates: “My wife says, thank your priest friend, his notes regarding the nature of the soul were very helpful.”

Eiji nods. “I’ll let Takeru know, he’ll be very happy.”

“Good, good. I’ll go get your friend some clothes, we have some of our grandson’s old things that might fit.”

Dr. Caspari bustles off. Ankh fumes into his teacup for a moment before saying, “Takeru? Is that the dead man?”

“Well, he’s not dead anymore, but he was dead. And yeah.” Eiji eats another cookie, probably too fast. “He gave me some helpful information, and Haruto--Wizard--got me some details about the stone that the Core Medals are made of, and Kouta let me have a bottle of sap from Helheim in exchange for some plant cuttings? It’s an amazing adhesive. And I paid Kougami about fifty thousand yen for a hundred Cell Medals, because I wasn’t about to agree to do him any favors.” More tea. “Dr. Zhakiyanova’s the one who figured out how to put it all together, though, she’s been working on it for seven years now.”

Ankh nods slowly and says, “I met Kouta too, didn’t I. He’s the...god.”

���Yeah, that’s him.”

Dr. Caspari comes back with an armful of clothes that he hands to Ankh. “You get dressed, young man.” A long pause to speak to his wife in Kazakh again, and then, “My wife says, your friend is very lucky, he’s like a rat.”

Ankh freezes in the middle of pulling on a t-shirt, nostrils flaring. “Excuse me.”

“No, no!” Dr. Caspari beams at him. “A rat’s a good animal. Resourceful. Rats grow to the size of their enclosures. When you were first created, you were a rat in a small cage. You were constricted. But a human body is no small cage. You should thank the human who once lent you his, it gave you room to grow. She wouldn’t have been able to do this if you hadn’t already grown from what you originally were.” Another comment from Dr. Zhakiyanova. “She also says, please excuse her for not addressing you directly, she’s had a long day and it’s easier for her to think in Kazakh right now.“

“Oh, of course, that’s completely understandable.” Eiji grins at him. “I appreciate her assistance.”

“She’s going to write a paper.” Dr. Caspari looks delighted. “I look forward to proofreading it for her.”

--

After Eiji’s lunatic alchemist friends give them more cookies, and dinner, and another armload of old clothes that are far too big for Ankh, they’re finally allowed to go home. Or not home, they’re still far from home, but to the hotel in which Eiji is staying because after all this time his back hurts too much to sleep rough.

As soon as the door is locked behind them, Ankh strips off the too-large clothes and stares at himself in the full-length mirror. He is whole again, and more than whole. No longer a parasite on a human body, but a creature in and of himself, and alive. He has blood, he has breath, he can taste and smell and feel and the world is full of colors.

He turns slightly, and a flash of light catches his eye. He leans in closer to inspect it, and sees--a crack, zig-zagging crazily down the center of his in a whisper-thin gleam of gold. Shattered no longer, but he will never again be the creature he was before he was broken.

He’s something new now.

He turns and stalks over to where Eiji is sitting on the bed, knocks him backwards, sits on top of him, and looks for the gleam of gold in his reflection in Eiji’s eyes. And Eiji looks up at him and is real, real, real, and he is, truly, the only object of Ankh’s desires.

Once, the world would not have been enough.

Perhaps he is no longer a fairy tale monster.

Ankh says, slowly, “Eiji, smile for me.”

[fanfics-only-for-me]

Call of the Void (Part 2)

Word Count: 3208

How are the Titans going to handle the reluctant new stray Dick picked up and what exactly is she running from? 

 Rose doesn't exist and Jeremiah is dead. Everything in the show is the same up to when they find Rose on the telly. Imma just swap her with y/n cause I'm a narcissist. Y/N is 18 nearly 19.  Don't @ me cause i know this is hella shite. Readers bi but I’m not certain if she’s gonna be romantically involved with anyone yet.

Discovery 

Leaving the training area, Dick walked down the corridor towards the tech room.  He might have quelled Jason's rampant mind but his own was still trying to make sense of what he saw that morning.  It was a puzzle missing half the pieces,  he had an idea of the picture: he knew someone was injured and he knew where they were at some point during the night, but how they were injured and where they went next was still a mystery.

Dick entered the room, not bothering to close the door behind him and, using Bruce's definitely illegal system, found three different CCTV camera's from last night all capturing the stained spot on the pavement giving him multiple views of the scene.  Dick began watching the drunken night-life of San Francisco expecting to see perhaps a small fight between some drunks before a taxi was called to take them away to a nearby hospital.  It was the most plausible explanation.

As Dick was watching the footage, Rachel and Gar came into the room.

"Is this about whatever was by the car earlier?" asked Rachel looking up at the footage.

"What?" Gar asked Rachel confused, "What was by the car?"

"Blood." Dick answered not once breaking his focus from the monitors.

"Blood?" asked a confused Gar, "What happened?  Who's blood?"

"I don't know yet." replied Dick furrowing his brow as he watched the crowds of people thinning. 

The time stamp on the footage read 03:47:04, due to California's 2 am 'last call' law, only a few stragglers were still out as they waited for Taxis or swayed themselves home on foot. The untouched pavement was beginning to bother Dick, a feeling like when a horror movie goes silent before a cheap jumpscare leaving the audience aware of an imminent fright but the specifics of said 'fright' remain unknown.  He was waiting for the scare and every second the silence extended pushed him further to the edge of his seat.

"A bit of blood on a street doesn't really concern us," Jason commented as he sluggishly moved into the now crowded room cradling a bowl of cinnamon puffs to his chest.

"I never said it did, Jason." Dick replied, looking at him over his shoulder, "I'm only satisfying my own curiosity."

"Uh guys," Gar interrupted, gesturing towards the screen.

Turning back towards the monitors' Dick saw the figure on the ground, right where the stain was due to appear.  The time was stamped at 04:07:08.  By this time the streets were emptied leaving the slouched figure undisturbed.

"They just appeared." chimed Rachel.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked staring at the figure. 

The cameras weren't the best, extremely glitchy and unfocused not to mention the person's head was facing away from all three cameras.  Despite this, Dick could clearly tell this person was in pain; if them on their hands and knees weren't enough, tomorrows bloodstain would be.

"Like, out of thin air." Gar explained a bit too excitedly, "One second nothing then poof! Someones there."

"Shit, really?" Jason asked eagerly, everything's been stagnant since he got to the tower and if what Gar said was true, something interesting is finally happening and he'd be damned if he wasn't involved.

Dick, was watching the figure as though they'd vanish if he lost concentration, the talking of the kids became white noise as more questions plagued his mind.  He only checked the CCTV to fill in some missing pieces to the puzzle he gave himself, albeit he did get some new pieces; he found out the puzzle was much bigger than initially thought.  He was looking over the footage for anything that may give him a few more pieces.  Their clothes looked comfortable, although a bit too cold to wear outside.  A pair of white shorts with a loose t-shirt,  untamed hair, and no shoes.  It wasn't the absence of footwear that raised the red flags in Dick's mind, but the blood coating them which he mistook for socks at first glance.

It took about 20 seconds for the figure to move from their curled position.  They reached backwards with one hand as the other stayed planted in front of them, hand sliding in the small puddle near their feet as they pattered around in search of something before hitting and grasping the pole in an attempt to steady and lift themself up into a more kneeled position.  They looked around themself frantically for a while reminding Dick of a meerkat searching for predators.  As they leant on the pole, they finally faced one of the cameras briefly, barely a second but Dick caught it.  Dick had seen that same look on so many others; she was running from someone, a one-track mind to get away, but from what?  Despite the grainy quality, Dick guessed they had to be around Jason's age.  His mind was immediately drawn back to Rachel when they first met, back when he tried to distance himself from helping thus invertedly leaving her defenceless to those chasing her.  Maybe it's due to his hero complex, but he really couldn't resist a stray, especially a scared one.

"What the fuck's wrong with her legs?" Jason blurted out, finally getting a better look at the feet. 

Rachel, Gar, and Jason were now standing right by Dick at the computers all waiting to see what the injured stranger would do next.  About a minute after she appeared, she stopped looking around, another few seconds and she disappeared.  No smoke, no magical sparks: just gone.  It was silent for a bit in the room as they all tried to process what they just witnessed.  Dick began checking the other cameras in the area to see if he could find her again.  The screens were filled with multiple different views of the general area, a few minutes of silence and searching eyes and Rachel finally spotted her.

"There!" she shouted pointing to a screen showing a figure half lying on a dumpster barely holding themself up, the camera only just catching her half down an alleyway nearly 20 meters from the initial appearance spot.  The girl followed the same pattern of behaviour as before: a mini rest before looking around and disappearing once again.  

Dick was determined to find out where they turned up so as soon as she disappeared he brought up more CCTV footage.  This time around he didn't find her as easily, and it took him close to an hour to find her again.  Although it was an hour for him, only a few minutes past in the footage.  She was obviously trying to avoid the cameras and Dick had to rely on her slip-ups to catch her.  The girl was moving sporadically and would often cross her own path, he wasn't sure if it was a tactic to lose whoever she was running from or if she really had no idea where she was going.  While Dick stayed in the room searching the cities cameras, the younger three, with admittedly much shorter attention spans, would cycle in and out of the place, at one point Dick ordered them to go back to training.  By the time the footage was nearing 6 am, Dick had spent the entire day in front of the computers and, to his relief, it seemed to of paid off. 

The last sighting of her was near the pier close to the warehouses and if he was lucky she'd still be in one of them.  Judging by her clear exhaustion, it was plausible she hadn't moved yet.  Checking the time on his watch, Dick noted that the sun had long since set as it neared 10 pm.  He'd spent over 12 hours searching, he'd be damned to allow his efforts to result in nothing.  Dick swiftly left the room and headed to the exit passing the team in the living area as he did so.

"I'll be back." he told the three as the elevator doors closed behind him.

"Guess he found her then" muttered Gar staring at the closed door.

"Guess so" replied Rachel.

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Once Dick got to the pier he realised just how hard it would be to find her.  There had to be hundreds of different hiding spots in multiple different buildings, the search could take all night.  Thankfully the workers had gone home by this point but it wasn't them he was really worried about but whoever she was running from.  He did a survey of the area before entering any of the buildings, checking if she was hiding outside or if someone else was here also.  Satisfied that no one was outside, Dick pulled his hood up to avoid any cameras and entered the first building that night. 

He checked every nook and cranny of the first few buildings looking for any blood or even a body, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he was still alone.  The fourth warehouse was where he struck gold.  He found a few more drops of blood, a lot less than at the coffee shop but blood none-the-less.  Natural he thought she might of disappeared again but after the neighbouring buildings proved fruitless, he returned.  There were no upper or lower floors and he already upturned everything inside yet this was his only lead.  The roof had poles and infrastructure to hold it up but nothing big enough to hide a person and everything else inside was either too small or locked tight.  

Heat signatures.  He should've checked for heat signatures.  He couldn't access it from the warehouse and he definitely wasn't going to head back to the tower to use it so he grabbed his phone and began dialling Gar.  Once he picked up, Dick got him to check for any heat signatures near him, he'd been teaching the group on how to use the system in case of situations like this thus it only took Gar a few minutes before Dick got the picture of the warehouse.  There was someone in here with him. 

Dick walked towards the other person, double-checking the image before he stood still.  In front of him were sealed storage containers.  He already searched this area and found nothing, the locks on the storage containers were old and rusted shut, definitely not used this year let alone this morning, and yet the orange dot said otherwise.  Then again, it would make sense if she could teleport through it.  Dick looked around searching for something to help get it open, finding nothing he realised he had to rely on his strength alone.  A few harsh kicks to the lock and he got it open.  Grabbing the handles of the container, Dick wrenched the doors open filling the warehouse with a metallic screech.  He found her.

As Dick looked at her curled figure a wave of worry overcame him, what if he was too late?  Stepping into the container and kneeling next to her figure, he searched for a pulse.  Only after finding one, albeit weak, did he take a moment to look at her: y/h/c hair, y/s/c skin, and bar her feet, healthy-looking.  The CCTV gave him an idea of her injury but looking at her now, he realised how serious it was.  She was leaving small puddles of blood all over the city and the fact she hadn't passed out sooner was a miracle.  The bottom of her t-shirt was ripped and wrapped around both her feet standing in for a bandage, it was tight enough to stop the bleeding.  The once light grey shirt was now died a deep red, slighting brown at places due it drying.  If she hadn't done this before passing out, there was no doubt she'd be dead now.  The body can only take so much blood loss before permanently shutting down, she wasn't dead but she was close to it.  He scooped her up as carefully as he could and slowly made his way out of the building. 

The strange girl lay limp in Dick's arms, undisturbed as she was slightly swayed with his every step.  Reaching his car, Dick slowly lowered her to lie down in the back not dissimilar to a parent lowering their sleeping child into their bed.  As he straightened up, he took one last look at her before rolling up his jacket and propping it under her calves in order to take the pressure off her feet.  Sliding into the drivers' side, he glanced once more at her still face in the rearview mirror and turned on the engine.

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Once Dick arrived at the Tower he delicately picked the girl up and headed inside.  Gar was pacing back and forth near the elevator door when Dick stepped out cradling the unconscious stranger.

"Dick!," he shouted once he noticed him enter, "You found her, what- wait is she okay?"

"Hopefully," Dick replied stepping past him and towards the med bay, "Grab my jacket, I left it in the car."

"Going," Gar said before disappearing inside the elevator.

Once he made it to the med bay, he placed her stomach down onto one of the beds, tilting her head to the side, and began rooting through the cupboards and drawers.  He took out some antiseptic and bandages and placed them near the bed.  Quickly washing and drying his hands, Dick pulled a chair next to the foot of the bed and began carefully unwrapping the dirty cloth filling the room with the strong scent of iron.  Once he removed the fabric from her left foot he took note of the deep, yet disturbingly precise slice along the back of her heel, taking some antiseptic, he began cleaning the wound.  Dick could see deep into her foot, and what caught his attention was the pale tendon cut clean in half and her still intact artery.  Whoever did this had medical training.  As he was finishing bandaging up the first wound, Gar came in with Dick's Jacket.  

"Put it on the counter," Dick told him before Gar could say anything, "And go grab two black foot braces from the closet behind you." 

As he finished wrapping up her first foot, Gar placed the braces onto an empty spot on the bed.  Hovering near Dick, Gar remained silent trying his best not to disturb him.  He was use to helping The Chief back at the Manor and thus instinctively fell back into the silent helper role, ready to do what the doctor asked.  Gar's eyes flickered between the girl's unconscious face and the way Dick meticulously worked on bandaging up her ankles.  He noticed the neatness of the wound and was certain it was expertly done, but by who and why?  As Dick was working away securing the final brace, Gar headed towards the Vital Sign Monitor in the corner of the room and began getting it ready.  

"You know how to do that?" Dick asked him.

"Yeah," Gar answered, "I've done it hundreds of times."

Dick stood up and flipped the girl onto her back conscious of her feet as he did so, before heading to another cupboard and getting some spare blankets.  

"Hook her up," Dick said gesturing to the machine, "And put a few more blankets on her, she's lost a lot of blood so she needs to be kept warm."

"Got it," Gar said wheeling the monitor closer to her.

"I'm going to make a call," continued Dick, "See if we can get her a surgeon to re-attach the tendons." 

Gar nodded in acknowledgement as he placed the finger probe on her index finger, his eye's glued to the monitor making sure it was working.  Grabbing the phone from out of his pocket, Dick left the room and walked out into the hallway already dialling the number of a surgeon that he's relied on before.  Gar continued setting up the machine, double and triple-checking making sure everything was working correctly.  Once it was all set up, Gar repositioned the girl, making sure the pressure was off her feat.  As he was pulled the blanket over her body he took note of the orange stain the antiseptic left on the bandages and the pungent distinct smell it had that filled the air, he reached out towards the spare blankets Dick took out and layered her up.  Gar wasn't the best at looking after patients but he wasn't a complete stranger to it.  He looked around the room for a bit and found a few foldable wheelchairs in an attached storage room.  Taking one out, he began opening it up, in case she might not know how, and wheeled in near the head of the bed in case she woke up. 

Gar felt extremely bad for the girl, he remembered her scared face on the CCTV cameras and now, seeing her in person, he only felt more sympathy.  There was something inherently disturbing in deliberately taking away someones ability to walk.  Something dehumanizing and upsetting.  He remembered The Chief and how adamant he was on being able to walk.  Sitting on the chair where Dick was previously, he gazed at the girl's face and began reminiscing his past, he thought of his family, his biological, his old ones at the manor, and his new one here in the Tower.  He wondered what everyone was doing, what his life would be like if his mum and dad chose to live somewhere else, and he wondered what his new 'Titans' family would lead to.  His mind was drawn back to the girl at this point, and he wondered what her family was like, where they were, and if they loved her.  Gar sat there for the next twenty minutes thinking about families and all the meanings that word held.

When Dick came into the room holding a pile of clothes, Gar's concentration broke.  Dick walked over to the bedside table and placed the pile down before turning to look at Gar taking in the reminiscent look on his face.

"A few people are coming over tomorrow to help her out," Dick told him walking around the bed towards him, "a quick surgery to re-connect the tendons.  She'll be fine." Dick placed a hand on Gar's shoulder and giving him a reassuring smile continued, "I'm glad you were here to help, I really appreciate it.  Now, get to sleep, it's late and you still have training tomorrow." he finished nodding towards the door.

Dick watched Gar leave the room before sitting down and looking at the sleeping figure.  He assumed she was an adult, albeit on the young side, and he didn't want to force her into anything, but, on the other hand, she was a meta-human, and people were definitely looking for her.  In his experience, nothing good happens when someone with powers falls into the wrong hands.  Hopefully, she'll choose to stay here, but if she doesn't... he doesn't know what he'll do.  Looking at the Vital Signs Monitor one last time, Dick stood up and headed towards the door.  He might as well get a few hours sleep, she won't be waking up anytime soon.    

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