#but i never saw her being unthinking (at least when shes not in the middle of a fight already but id still have to rewatch to make sure//

[stevengrantshubby]

so im like 2 volumes behind but ive seen ppl say that ruby rose should have been a faunus, a wolf faunus specifically, but really i think oscar should have been like a dog faunus too.

along with more skin tone variation i think there should have been more "main" faunus characters so blake isnt mostly by herself. if i just look at the 1st three volumes, id pick nora also being a faunus (a goat faunus specifically cause thor had some goats pull his chariot) thatd be cute.

so really...ruby, blake, nora, and later oscar. if i had to pick without changing too much.

[esta-elavaris]

Fallen Through Time

Part Nine [4,023 words]

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Historical research notes at the end, for fun 💜

Also now on AO3 and FF.net.

Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - *Part Nine* [you're here!]

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @missfronkensteen @teawithshakespeare @dancerinthestorm

The morning after the dinner party, James awoke to find the book he’d attempted to give Miss Byrne sitting neatly in the middle of his doorstep. Given what a grave miscalculation it had been, and the Irishwoman’s colourful turn of phrase, he suspected he’d been lucky that it hadn’t come with a note detailing exactly where he could put the book. She must have dropped it off herself, for a servant from the mansion would have left it with his maid, Hattie, instead. James found himself relieved that they hadn’t run into one another when she did so – and then laughed at himself. After all he’d faced, he was wary of the likes of Theodora Byrne. What was the world coming to?

She must have been up and moving alarmingly early if she’d come by before he’d risen himself – and while James was always an early riser, this morning he was excessively so, because he’d barely slept at all. After his talk with Elizabeth, he’d been unable to keep her words from his mind. Nor Miss Byrne’s face.

“I don’t suppose you saw how she reacted when Groves gave her that fright?”

He had noticed. Even before Elizabeth pointed it out, he’d noted it – but the pointing out of it meant that he could no longer brush it off through wilful denial.

It was difficult to say whether she knew she was visible from where she’d stood on the patio that night, but James suspected not. He could detect no artifice in her demeanour as she’d stood, arms curled around herself, staring unseeingly off into the night, looking so very lost. A far cry from the woman who’d all but given him a dressing down in front of one of his own men at the beginning of the night.

From where he’d been stationed watching her, he did not see Groves’ approach until his hand reached out to get her attention, but her response was something he’d seen in full. In all of his considerations of Theodora Byrne – more numerous than he’d ever admit – he’d never been able to even faintly imagine her cowering. And yet, that was what she’d done.

Whirling, she’d cowered down, and lifted a hand up before her face as if to protect it from a blow that did not come. All on sheer, unthinking instinct; at least if her following embarrassment was anything to go by.

She’d refused to be cowed by him thus far, and James was under no illusions as to how stern and dour he could be when he so wished…which was often. So what manner of man would it take to produce that response in her? Who had she expected the owner of the hand to be, lost in her thoughts as she was?

And what did that make James himself, if he’d spent all of this time being so openly hostile towards a woman who not only meant no harm, but was fleeing harm herself? It troubled him greatly – and it did not so much as wipe away his curiosity as give that curiosity new questions to chase. For the safety of those here was his responsibility - his duty - and if these new suspicions proved correct, Miss Byrne fell under that duty of care. So it still fell to him to puzzle out the truth.

Although perhaps more gently than he had been thus far.

It was that notion…as well as guilt…that had him lurking near the front windows of his home like some strange spectre, waiting to see if she would pass by again – which she would have to do, if she’d gone to town as he suspected. Luck would have it that she cut a striking enough figure as to make her impossible to miss.

****

Theo couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel just a little nervous as she walked by Norrington’s house on her return journey to the Governor’s mansion, after a visit to town that had been half-fruitful and half incredibly frustrating. As was her pattern here.

When she’d snuck up the front path to his home in order to return that stupid book (she’d hoped he’d be smart enough to take it with him when he left after dinner, but apparently not), she felt an adrenaline rush of the likes previously only achieved during an incredibly rousing game of ding-dong-ditch. Right up until she’d set the book down atop the doorstep and made it back to the street before the house, she’d been certain that the door would swing open and she’d be greeted with the sight of Norrington’s stupid, finely polished buckled shoes. Followed by that frown as if she’d lost her mind. As was his pattern, in all dealings with her.

It appeared, thankfully, that she’d gotten there just early enough to miss him. But she knew that luck wouldn’t hold up when she went by again, and when she noticed the book was gone from the step, she couldn’t completely convince herself that some servant or other had handled it without telling him. ‘The book gnome visited’ probably wasn’t the daily norm here, and it sorted of warranted some sort of comment.

She’d almost been clear of the house entirely when she heard the front door open, and long strides making their way down the path until he was close enough that he wouldn’t have to scream her name in the street like Marlon Brando’s unhinged brother.

“Miss Byrne.”

Would ignoring him be bad? Yeah, it would definitely be bad. God, modern folk didn’t know how good they had it, being able to hide behind the excuse of headphones. Stifling a sigh, she stopped, and then turned slowly. So slowly that she probably looked like she was trying to have a dramatic movie villain moment. Or like a music box with a broken spring.

“Captain,” she greeted flatly, looking at his neck rather than at his face.

The day was a scorcher, and standing still was somehow worse than moving – maybe because she knew the longer she lingered, the longer she’d be without the shade of the Governor’s mansion.

“What was your business in town?”

This time she did sigh, but she told him anyway – if she didn’t, he’d only make up something nefarious.

“I met with William Turner, to check the progress of my endeavour, and then I attempted to visit the library.”

“…Women are not permitted access to the town’s library.”

“Attempted,” she reiterated.

Her snippiness, horrifyingly, seemed to endear her to him more than it might’ve if she’d made an effort to smile awkwardly and pretend he hadn’t been a complete raging knobhead the night before.

“I’m sure the Governor would not object to your perusing his library.”

“They’re mostly history tomes,” she said. “I wanted to see what else was on offer.”

History tomes written from an eighteenth-century English perspective, no less. She couldn’t crack any of them open without hearing every single one of her ancestors simultaneously screaming in fury. And she could hardly visit a book shop, unless she was going to be enough of an ungrateful prat as to start asking Governor Swann for pocket money.

When he said little else, but made no move to leave, she nodded a farewell. “Good day, Captain.”

She barely moved to turn when he stepped forward, finally saying what it was he’d chased her down to say. And god, did it surprise her.

“Miss Byrne, I do not pretend that I do not owe you an apology after my…misjudgement last night,” he said. “And, as of this moment, my calculations tell me that we’ve roughly a thirty percent success rate in our dealings with one another. Perhaps I may be so ambitious as to push that up to fifty percent.”

Surprise got the better of her, and she met his gaze – finding green eyes staring into hers with a shocking amount of earnestness. Her own eyes widened, and a great deal of her annoyance fell aside of its own volition, which in turn shocked him. They spent more time than she suspected either of them would later admit, standing there, watching one another.

Theo was the first to come to her senses, breaking whatever strange spell had come over the both of them.

“What do you suggest?”

He hadn’t actually apologised, but she was willing to let that fall by the wayside if it would make this bullshit stop.

“A revision. Of yesterday.”

“I’m not sure I have the energy for another dinner party,” she snorted.

He stifled a smirk of his own. “Nor I. But I do have a personal library that I am rather proud of. You are free to browse it, and borrow what you wish.”

Whatever defensiveness yet lurked in her posture was truly gone then, and she blinked at him owlishly.

“…Really?”

“Truly,” he said – and even failed to take offence at her doubt.

“I…” she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and then nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

When they reached his house, Theo didn’t comment on how he left the front door wide open as she passed through – not even when she was tempted to make a joke about having an easy escape to hand. Once inside, he paused in the entranceway and she pretended she wasn’t making a study of the house. It was difficult to picture, after all, how a man like Captain Norrington might be when at home. It conjured images of his “relaxing” with poker-straight posture, his shoulders straight and his nose in the air as he leafed through a book.

The place was nice. Not a particularly surprising fact, given that he was considered the logical choice for Elizabeth. Homes here were bigger than she was used to back home – they were still a long way from terraced houses and semi-detached maisonettes – and while this one wasn’t a mansion, it was still pretty damn big, even by the standards she’d seen here. Despite that, though, everything was simple. Masculine, really. Dark, finely polished wooden furniture, with a distinct lack of florals or frills. That was the job of the woman, she supposed. Still, she hardly disliked it without all that. It suited him.

“Hattie? Come here a moment, please.”

Sounds of boots against the hardwood flooring rattled from upstairs, and a young, blonde maid appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Yes, sir?” she quickly descended, greeting Theo with a smile and a quiet how do you do?

“This is Miss Byrne – take her to my study, where she will pick out whichever books she so wishes.”

Hattie, for a brief second, looked as stunned by the gesture as Theo had been, but she recovered quickly and nodded.

“Yes, sir. Follow me, please, miss.”

The study showed more signs of life than any other part of the house she’d seen. While still, unsurprisingly, neat and orderly to an extent that was almost unnerving, it felt actually lived in. A small handful of books and notebooks were stacked carefully atop the desk, along with a couple of quills that had been sharpened but thus far unused, side by side perfectly symmetrically.

Theo hadn’t realised she’d been surveying the room until she remembered Hattie’s presence, turning and smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry. I’m a little distracted. The heat.”

“Not at all, miss,” she gave a polite smile – although her eyes remained fixed on her with curiosity as she continued. “The captain is rather particular about the way his shelves are organised – by subject matter, and then alphabetically thereafter. Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for?”

“No, no I…” she almost admitted she was still too stunned to even really consider what books she might want to read. “…I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it.”

The blonde nodded, remaining by the doorway. Theo turned to the shelves. They were all leatherbound volumes, and so it was difficult for much to really leap out at her without her properly reading the spines.

“Have you lived here long?” she asked Hattie, mostly to fill the silence as she looked. “In Jamaica, I mean.”

And also because part of her felt the need to establish that she didn’t view servants as window-dressing. Even if that was what they strove to be.

“I came over with my parents – so long ago that I scarcely remember it, miss.”

“You’re used to the climate, then.”

“It becomes less noticeable over the years, miss,” she offered a sympathetic smile. “And Captain Norrington always makes sure the servants – here and in town – have all of the ice we might need, to make our work more bearable, in the hotter months.”

Theo smiled tiredly. Even despite their rocky beginnings, she didn’t find that surprising at all.

When she finally returned downstairs, Captain Norrington was sitting on the sofa in his sitting room, long legs stretched before him, his coat removed to reveal a white shirt with rather dramatic sleeves, and a finely embroidered waistcoat. His cravat had been loosened, his collar pulled away from his neck, and the white wig sat on the sofa beside him, his dark hair plastered to his head as he rested with his face tilted back, eyes shut. This day was proving to be one of the hottest since her coming here to Port Royal, and while she was often driven to self-pity in her corset and skirts, she consoled herself with the fact that she didn’t need to wear that white monstrosity atop her head every day.

Theo knocked at the table by the doorway and he started, sitting up and regarding her with surprise.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I thought you’d left.”

As he spoke, he made to take up his wig but Theo interrupted.

“Please don’t, if you’ll only be uncomfortable. This heat is…a lot,” she finished lamely. “I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“As am I,” he snorted, and surprised her by leaving the wig where it sat. “It’s cooler, out at sea. And you’ve arrived during one of the hottest seasons we’ve ever endured here.”

Hopefully the townsfolk wouldn’t take that as an ill-omen. The redheaded wench brings the fires of hell with her, or some such crap.

“I was spoiled for choice,” she explained. “Took a wee bit longer than I realised. I wanted to show you what I picked before I left – to make sure it’s all right.”

The last thing she needed was to pick out something with great sentimental value. With her luck, she’d choose something passed down the Norrington line for centuries, and he’d either resent the choice, or be at the Swann’s door tomorrow to retrieve it.

He motioned her over and she approached, side-stepping the other sofa to draw nearer and present the books to him.

“Flora and Fauna of the Caribbean,” he read aloud, taking up the first one.

“Seems a good idea to know what I’m surrounded by,” she supplied – mostly to fill the silence.

He nodded readily enough, moving to the next one. “Gulliver’s Travels.”

“Escapism,” she shrugged.

“And…” he paused when he came to the third and final one, eyeing her curiously. “Marcus Aurelius?”

“For when the escapism doesn’t work,” she said drily.

Norrington surprised her then, for he chuckled – just a little one, but it seemed genuine all the same. As was his curiosity. For the first time, she felt as though he was speaking to her for the sake of speaking to her, rather than because some sense of chivalry demanded it or, worse, because he suspected her of something sinister.

“You’ve read it before?” he asked, a note of surprise to his voice.

“A few times,” she admitted. “It’s the sort of thing where a refresher never hurts. I…may I?”

She gestured, unsure whether she was doing the right thing or not, to the sofa opposite him. With little idea of whether it was proper (although they’d have to be really daring to get up to anything with all of the doors and windows wide open, and a maid in the next room), or whether he was simply waiting for her to finally piss off and leave him in peace, she knew that it was a risky move. But she also knew that he was making an effort – a real one, this time – and so she’d feel iffy if she plundered his shelves and left without so much as a bit of polite chit chat.

This was new territory to her, too. If anybody else had done what he had last night, she’d have never so much as looked in their direction again, regardless of if they’d let her borrow a thousand of their fancy books. Even now, she was wary – half expecting him to ask a perfectly innocent question, only to skewer her with whatever answer she gave. But…he had the movies going for him.

After all, they depicted him to be good. Maybe he wobbled a bit in the middle, but even then, Theo couldn’t much fault his actions – for they pretty much always adhered to the moral code he’d had drummed into him, likely since birth. Pirates bad, English good. If anything, an excessive sort of loyalty to Jack after he had a hand in his losing everything would suggest a near-impressive lack of brains, and she couldn’t say she’d have behaved any different were she in Norrington’s shoes. Or wig. In the end, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t pay for the more questionable of his actions, either. And dearly, at that.

No, everything she’d seen of him – though he’d yet to actually do any of it – had been understandable, and spoke to a pretty decent strength of character. He hadn’t been a dick to her for the sake of being a dick, of that she was certain. It came from a place of protectiveness, she supposed, rather than Amelia Simmond’s particular brand of sneering sadism. Furthermore, he’d even been kind to her once. As he’d said himself, he had a success rate that stood at about a third, and the first catastrophic meeting had been the fault of her blundering more than anything he’d done. No, a second chance wasn’t only the wise thing to concede from a strategic standpoint of making this place liveable, but it felt right.

He gestured his ascent, and she slowly sat down, resisting the urge to fiddle with her skirts as he continued to hold onto the books.

“I always liked the passages about fire. A lot,” she explained, narrowing her eyes as she tried to recall one of them without butchering it. “The blazing fire makes flames and brightness out of everything thrown into it.”

At that, he offered a tight-lipped half-smile that wasn’t half so sarcastic and mirthless as the ones she was used to seeing from him.

“As a fire overwhelms what would have quenched a lamp. What's thrown on top of the conflagration is absorbed, consumed by it - and makes it burn still higher.”

Theo made an impressed noise at the back of her throat, smiling. “That’s some memory on you.”

He huffed a laugh. “A blessing and a curse. As well as a necessity, given my occupation.”

“I understand that. My dad- my father used to do these little tests with me – how many carriages were on the street that we just walked past? What colours were the horses pulling them? So on. Just to really drum it into me to be aware of my surroundings.”

Of course, the carriages had been cars, and he’d been asking her what brand they were, but she already sounded like a blithering idiot here half the time given her limited ability with period drama speak, so she had to be careful.

“A habit more suited to a commanding officer and his men, I should think,” he commented, a bemused furrow taking root in his brow.

But still, it was curiosity – not suspicion – that ruled his features.

“Most trouble people find themselves in comes from their not being aware of their surroundings,” she shrugged a little. “Of course, I’m not so naïve to think it’s always avoidable – or the fault of a person who doesn’t notice the knife at their back rather than the one holding the knife, but whatever danger awareness can negate, he wanted to be sure that it did in my case.”

“A noble aim.”

“Mm. He was my gateway into all that,” she gestured towards the copy of Meditations in his hand. “Always used to say it was foolish, wanting to be the person who always wins. Too much of that is reliant on outside forces, and the second you lose, your confidence is shot and you start feeling sorry for yourself. It’s much better to just strive to be the person who gets back up again, after every defeat. That, you have full control over.”

Norrington looked at her strangely, then. Not in a bad way – but in one she couldn’t quite place. If she’d been more optimistic about their interactions, she might’ve dared to say he looked impressed. His features certainly softened from their usual grim disinterested set. They looked at one another for a long moment – so long that Theo almost wondered if she’d just made a tit out of herself yet again in some unknown way.

Then, finally, he said quietly.

“You must miss him greatly.”

Theo forced a strained smile, half-wishing she’d never brought him up in the first place. “Yes. Well. Just more fuel for that fire of mine, right?”

Norrington snorted – not unkindly – and then stacked the three fairly thin books, and held them out towards her with one hand. Theo reached her hand out and grasped them, but didn’t full pull them from his hand quite yet. Instead, she paused and offered him a tired smile.

“Fifty percent. Thank you, Captain Norrington.”

He smiled then, and Theo noted silently to herself that he was far too handsome than was good for anybody.

“Fifty percent, Miss Byrne,” he echoed.

She left feeling lighter than when she’d stepped inside.

Notes: I can’t find anything suggesting it was an official rule that women weren’t allowed in libraries, but everything I have been able to find indicates that the only reason I can’t find that rule in writing is for similar reasons that we don’t have ‘please don’t shit on the floor’ as an explicit rule in public spaces today. It’s just assumed that everybody knows.

What I did find is that women started pushing to be able to use public libraries somewhere around the 19th century, and that to contend with this, libraries had to create separate reading rooms specifically for women, so no nefarious mixed-sex reading would take place. With libraries around this time period, from what I can find they were mostly intended for the use of university students, or scholars. Both of which could obviously only be male, because woman brain small.

So I don’t think it’s unrealistic that Theo would’ve been turned away from the library in Port Royal. If anything, I think it’s more of a stretch to think that the English would’ve bothered building a library in Port Royal, because the people important enough to read books could probably afford their own private libraries. Given that women’s literacy wasn’t considered particularly important, either, and the only women who could read would’ve been of a higher class and able to afford their own books, that would’ve played a role, too.

But hey, maybe they wanted to make sure the lower-ranking officers had easy access to books, in order to expand their minds. I could imagine the likes of James, and Gov. Swann, being all for that. I do imagine it being very, very small, though.

[galaxxiwrites]

hi i love your headcanons and scenarios so much!! can i request an arknights thorns x female reader nsfw oneshot?? tysm!

fjnse thank you anon!! (♡μ_μ)

Prompt: The Doctor asks Thorns to make them a drink that keeps them up for extended periods of time— the end result wasn't exactly what was intended, but it did work in keeping them awake.

Word count: 1378

warning: nsfw, please read at your own discretion :)

Energy Drink

"So...you're asking for an energy drink?" Thorns tilts his head ever so slightly, just enough to show his confusion upon hearing the Doctor's request.

"Yes, but stronger. Something to keep me up for...a few days at least."

Again, Thorns is flabbergasted by such a peculiar request. He opens his mouth, about to ask just why she would need to stay up for a few days.

"Contingency Contract." The Doctor says as she waves her hand in a nonchalant way, as if accepting their fate. She sighs as memories of past events slowly creep their way back into her thoughts, but immediately clears them as now was not the time for emotional vulnerability. It was time for blood.

"Extra strong energy drinks just don't pack that same punch anymore," Doctor explains as she peeks over to look up at Thorn's golden embers, pleading to him with puppy dog eyes to make them that concoction.

"I know it's not my place to lecture you on this, but no one is capable of functioning properly when they're deprived of sleep."

Thorns looks back to his desk, different chemicals in various test tubes and flasks and quickly scribbled notes on pieces of paper clutter his workspace.

"It'll be fine, it's only for a few days." The doctor waves her hand before turning around, mumbling that they'll come get the drink later in the day.

Thorns sighs, murmuring to himself that he never agreed to make something so dangerous for her. He then makes calculation in his head: which option would have a better outcome for him? On one hand, he didn't want his lover to overexert herself more than she already does. On the other hand...he's terrified of becoming the subject of her temper tantrums.

His solution was to just make a drink that stimulates the nervous system to keep them up, but slowly depresses it so Doctor could sleep at the proper time for once. Basically, a reverse of alcohol.

Working his magic, Thorns creates the desired drink— except he doesn't realize a miscalculation on his part. While it did work to relax the muscles, it wouldn't trigger drowsiness. Instead, it would end up exciting her hormones to the point of imitating a heat cycle— in short, he unknowingly made an aphrodisiac.

And he would suffer the consequences of his actions much sooner than expected.

While the doctor did feel awake, the longer the day got the more she felt...hot. It was unnatural, especially for her as she was used to wearing her hoodie no matter what the weather.

So when she ends up taking off her hoodie in the middle of the contingency contract planning, the Operators currently with her look bewildered. Many, especially the male operators, felt a lump in their throat form as they stared at the doctor.

"Doctor." Saria coughs to grab her attention. "Don't take off your jacket."

The defender operator places the jacket over the Doctor's shoulder and hugs it around her, making sure it fully covered her.

"What's the matter, Saria?"

Doctor couldn't hear the breathiness in her own voice, but the others sure could hear it clearly. Again, Saria scoffs before taking off with her, saying she'll escort Doctor back to her own private quarters.

"Doctor, next time please try to be more professional. If you're feeling even slightly unwell, then please don't hesitate to take the day off."

Saria leaves as quickly as she spoke, confusing the doctor even more. Left to her own devices, the Doctor thinks of why everyone reacted the way they didー or at least, she tries to even make a single coherent thought. The heat building up inside her however was getting unbearable, and thoughts of pleasuring herself started creeping in.

She doesn't resist her own temptations as she starts feeling herself; her hand softly traces her inner thigh before inserting her index finger into her womanhood.

The light teasing only drove Doctor closer to insanity—she needed more. Splaying herself on her bed, Doctor inserts another finger while her other hand massages her breast.

"Thorns." She mumbles as thoughts of her lover start filling her head. When was the last time he touched her, or when he was inside of her? It already felt so long ago, and maybe that's why she's been needy now.

Her thrusting became faster when she imagined his member inside her. Oh how she longed for him, his touch and kisses, his warmth—his everything.

Her imagination would ultimately cause her heat to become more unbearable as her fingers slowly start to leave her unsatisfied.

"Doctor, are you okay? I heard from Saria that—"

Thorns stops mid sentence when he sees her, legs wide open to reveal her dripping wet pussy, the sweet smell of her pre-cum flooded her room, almost intoxicating the eccentric guard.

He immediately closes the door, in fear of anyone else witnessing the sight he wants to keep for himself. His breathing became ragged as he continued to watch the Doctor desperately pleasuring herself, so lost in her own world that she didn't even hear him.

Thorns comes to Doctor's beside, shocking her so much that she abruptly stops and tries to apologize for her lewd behavior. Without saying a word, Thorns gives her a kiss.

A long, passionate, and hungry kiss. Doctor rubs her hand lightly against the tented area in his pants. Feeling his bulging manhood twitch at her touch, she smirks before bringing out his hardened member and starts stroking it teasingly slow.

Thorns whimpers her name as he pulls away from the kiss, only exciting the heated doctor even more. He then adjusts her so she would be facing him; he rubs the tip of his dick against her wet lips before slowly thrusting himself in her.

"Doctor," Thorns gasps as he feels her walls cling tightly around him. "You're so—tight."

Thorns grips on the doctor's thighs as he continues to slowly push himself deeper into her, causing Doctor to pull on her bed sheets as she was being stretched wide.

"Loosen up a bit." He grunts against her ear. Doctor gasps as she starts feeling him move, and try as she might she was far too excited to even try and calm down.

Doctor starts scratching Thorns' back in response to his more consistent movement. However, once she started getting accustomed to his girth and length, the pain subsided and was replaced with unthinkable pleasure.

"That it—keep moving like that…!" She whimpers as her legs wrap around his waist. Thorns trails hickeys on the doctor's neck as he thrusts deep in her, his pace steadily becoming faster the more the doctor loosened up.

"Ah, fuck…! That's it!" She yelped as he hit her sweet spot. "Fuck me there! More!"

He had not seen the Doctor this needy before, and he wishes that she would act like this a bit more.

"I've never seen you this...desperate, Doctor." Thorns whispers in a dangerously low and husky voice against her ear, almost bringing her to the edge.

"I want you—!" Doctor doesn't hesitate to beg as she starts matching his rhythm.

So lost in their euphoria, the couple continued without uttering anything else other than their needy groans and pleasured whimpers as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Thorns…! Thorns—! I," Doctor could not continue her sentence as she was hitting her climax, and he understood it well even without her having said anything as he walls tighten around him once more.

"Me too." Was all he said before moving at a slower, but more forceful pace. And with one last thrust, the both of them orgasmed.

Thorns, after releasing all his load into the doctor, slowly takes himself out of her. His semen, mixed with the doctor's, slowly trailed out of her womanhood. He smirked as he saw her queef before releasing a bit more of her thick juices.

Through ragged breaths, they give each other one more messy kiss before Thorns lays down, exhausted. He was about to close his eyes too, until he felt the familiar weight and heat of the doctor on top of him.

"Done already? But we're just getting started."

Doctor purrs as she traced circles on Thorn's heaving chest.

"We're not stopping until I'm cum-plete-ly satisfied~ Hehe."

[hournites]

I have a potential prompt for a one shot if you are interested.

Would you write a fic where Rick (and the rest of the JSA) are worried about Beth but she finally shows up safely? Everyone is so relieved, especially Rick... so much so that he goes to hug her but he forgets that his hourglass hasn't completely run out yet and squeezes her too tight. Beth is all like "Uhh, Rick? I can't breathe!" So he quickly (and awkwardly) lets her go.

I think it could be slightly angsty but also cute.

The Disappearing Act

They meet back up behind the garage as planned. Yolanda slinks in from above a roof with Courtney blazing in on the seat of her staff behind her, not nearly as concerned for stealth.

Rick shakes his head at the two. “Where’s Jennie and Beth?”

“I’m here!” They all raise their heads up at the sound of her voice floating in the air.

"Wait." She quickly powers down, setting down her lantern as she shakes out her hand. “Where’s Beth?”

“What do you mean?” Rick questions. “She’s supposed to be with you.”

Jennie glances up from her ring with a sharp breath and glowing eyes. “No, she left me to find Courtney after you called.”

Courtney swerves around. “Me? I didn’t call her!”

Yolanda raises an eyebrow. “What call? I was with Court the whole time, she didn't call.”

“I don’t know, she got it through her goggles, so she left.” Jennie took a step back. “I would’ve gone with her, but we were meeting up here now anyway. I thought she’d be here.”

“So Beth’s gone?” Courtney cries. The cosmic staff flares up as she gets more agitated. “How could you lose Dr. Mid-Nite?”

“I didn’t lose her, Courtney, I trust Beth to make her own decisions. This isn’t my fault!”

“Alright!” Rick snaps, stepping between the two of them before things get out of hand. “It’s only been five minutes. How about we try actually calling her?”

Yolanda’s already on it, pressing a hand to the side of her helmet to get a signal through the coms as she stalks. “Dr. Mid-Nite, It’s Wildcat--Do you copy? Or hear me? Anything? Mid-Nite? Beth? Hellooo?”

Rick pulls down his hood and rakes his hand through his hair. “Where were you when this happened, Jennie?”

Jade light leaves Jennie’s eyes as she backs against a wall, holding herself stiffly. “I-I don’t remember."

"Well." Rick gives her five seconds. "Think harder."

"Okay! Okay! Um...I think we were near the office building for The American Dream.”

“Was anyone suspicious with you? Or around you?”

“What kind of question is that? Why would Jennie be with anyone suspicious?”

Courtney rolls her eyes. “I meant did she notice anything?”

“Beth this is Yolanda, this isn’t funny anymore. I’m serious, please say something....”

“No! I don’t think so!”

Rick spins on his heel.

“Where are you going?” Courtney yells after him. “We can’t split up now! What if there’s actually a villain out there?”

“That’s exactly why we need to find her instead of wasting more time.” Rick flips his hourglass. “You get Pat. I’m going to the American Dream with Jennie.”

“I’ll stay here,” Yolanda tells them. She whacks the side of her helmet again. "Dr. Mid-Nite, do you read me?"

Courtney points out her helmet isn’t broken. It’s just Beth not answering, which doesn't get well received by any of them.

"Geez!" Courtney hugs the staff to her chest, with a grimace, properly scolded. “Get Pat and shut up. I got it!”

~.~

Pat jogs out of the Pit Stop, wiping his sweaty brow with a rag when he hears the loud noise coming in from outside. “Did you find her?”

Rick kicks at the garbage cans lined up at the curb.

“I know you’re stressed.” Pat surveys the trash now littered along the sidewalk. “But you’re picking that up. And replacing those bins.”

"Fine!" Rick kicks another one.

Pat’s mouth thins into a straight line, evidently not being listened to.

“That would be a no,” Yolanda fills in with a frown. “Courtney’s circling around her neighbourhood. Pat checked the school. I’m still not getting anything from the coms.”

Rick lists off his search efforts in anxious detail, counting them out on his gloved fingers. “I tried the tunnels since her goggles don’t work down there. The ISA lair was empty. The cells were unlocked. I knocked down Grundy’s old cage, nothing.” He's frantic, tugging at the base of his hourglass, as though getting choked by his remaining time. “There’s nothing! I thought I could find that her goggles fell off or one of her gloves, anything—”

"Dr. Mid-Nite? Please answer. Make a noise if you can hear this. This is Wildcat, are you okay? Dr. Mid-Nite?"

“And I went back to the last place I saw her.” Jennie wilts, sinking down to sit on the steps. She wraps her arms around her knees, the lantern firmly placed at her feet. “This is my fault.”

Yolanda gives up on reaching Beth for a moment, taking a seat beside Jennie to console her.

“I should’ve paired with her,” Rick mutters, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. “We always do these stupid patrols together.”

“The patrols are not stupid!” Courtney butts in with a scoff. The Cosmic Staff charges at Rick in her defense. Unthinking, he swats it away with his strength, sending it flying out in the other direction.

“Hey! Don’t hurt the staff!”

“Whatever, Court!” Rick snaps. “Beth is actually missing and none of us have a clue as to where she is, we’re not going to be talking about your staff’s feelings—”

Yolanda wrings her hands and gets up abruptly. “Maybe the goggles malfunctioned again and she got lost somewhere.”

“She’s literally biked to every square foot of this town.”

“The goggles malfunctioning is a good theory, Yolanda.” Rick opens his mouth to retort and Pat continues before he can start another fight, “I’ve already given Barb a call in case she calls our house. Girls, why don’t you check your cell phones?”

The girls file back into the Pit Stop. Rick hovers by the door, reluctant to go in with them.

“Pat? Why aren’t you worried?” The tone borders on accusatory. Rick’s face is still covered by the dark mask, blending into the dark night, but his concern is transparent through his eyes.

Pat sighs. “It’s only been 2 hours. Beth is a smart girl.”

“She’s a smart, small, pretty girl in Blue Valley. A town full of murderers.”

“I’m well aware of that, Rick.” He pulls the rag out to wipe his face again. “But freaking out and hurting people’s feelings isn’t going to help anybody find her.”

“But—” Rick turns his face away, twisting the chain hanging from his neck again. “Sitting here isn’t helping either!”

We’re gathering clues and searching the town. I didn’t say we’re giving up.” Pat takes his time. “Look, I know you care about—”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if something bad happens to her!” He gestures at himself. “Or if this runs out and I can’t help her. It isn’t like Beth to….go silent.”

Pat claps a hand over the shoulder of Rick’s golden cape. “I know.”

“Pat!” Yolanda bursts out through the side door. Courtney and Jennie quick at her heels. “She’s okay! I heard her voice through the helmet! She’s on her way back!"

“What?” Rick shot up. “Where?”

Though he doesn’t have to look far. She’s at the corner, stumbling in her haste to get to them in the dark. The girls all scream and run and fly out to her, ignoring Pat’s insistence that Courtney and Jennie should at least try to conceal themselves in the middle of the road.

Rick sits back down heavy on the step, flooded with relief.

When Beth makes her way over, Pat checks to make sure she’s not wounded, but she waves him off, yanking down her green cowl. “I’m fine, Mr. Dugan. Just thirsty.”

“I’ll get you water!” Jennie practically shouts, rushing to the kitchenette inside the garage. “We’re never splitting up again!”

“What happened?” Pat exclaims. “We’ve searched the whole town!”

Her eyes slide to Rick and the glowing sand in his hourglass.

“You were all looking for me?”

“Yeah,” says Rick. “I was about to throw up.”

“Someone hacked into my goggles and faked Courtney’s call.” Beth cringes. “The Shade uh...wanted to talk?”

“The Shade?”

Courtney's curls whipped back violently. “He WHAT?”

“I’m okay!” Beth reassures them all again when they panic. “He messed up my goggles so I couldn’t use them until he finished what he had to say. He even dropped me off in his car by Richie’s when we were done talking.”

Courtney prompts, impatient, “And he talked to you about…?”

Beth sighs. “He’s giving Barbara an ultimatum about the Zarick artifacts.”

Yolanda grips onto her arm. “He kidnapped you to make a business arrangement?”

“He let me go afterwards!” Beth drops her gaze to her brown boots, feeling a bit embarrassed now that she sees how long she’s been gone. “He really wants that wand, Mr. Dugan.”

“I’m sure,” Pat says, rolling his eyes. “Barb and I will worry about the Zarick stuff tomorrow. We’re glad that you’re safe.”

Jennie returns with water and a snack. Beth takes a sip then excuses herself to change out of her Dr. Mid-Nite costume. When she returns, she settles next to Rick, who hasn’t said a word since their short exchange.

“So…” she starts timidly. “You were gonna throw up?”

Rick pulls her in for an embrace. She gasps. “Only you could have a whole civil conversation with a supervillain and walk out unscathed.”

“Rick! You’re crushing me!”

“Shit!” He lets go immediately when he feels the hard edge of the hourglass glowing in the wedge between them, reminding Rick his hugs right now would hurt. “Shit! Sorry! God, I’m sorry. I just didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Beth throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tight. Rick closes his eyes, eased. He’ll let her do the holding. “I thought you were going to be mad.”

“What?” He turns to look at her. She’s so close, still hugging him, he has to look away. “No, I was worried. I turned the tunnels upside down for you.”

“Oh.” Beth lets go, but taps on the glass as the final grains of sand slide through the pinhole. “Really?”

“I’d do it again.” He clears his throat and adds, “For all of you, I mean. If you disappeared, um…” He trails off, unsure of why he’s feeling so awkward.

But Beth merely nods, seeming to understand. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” They both look down at his chest, watching the hourglass to power down. Beth shoots him a timid smile. “Want to try that hug again?”

“Sure.” He stands up and extends out a hand, reeling her in.

[existtolaugh]

Had a prompt idea and managed to find an hour or two between breaks at work and my commute to write a short little story. It is not proofread or as long as most of my other works, but I was inspired and wanted to write this after seeing the movie. This does contain some spoilers from Black Widow.

Giggles 04 - Natasha and Yelena

"I - No, Yelena, you're doing it wrong. Here, use your other arm - No, your OTHER other arm..! I.."

"I think it looks better than yours, if I'm being honest."

It was a busy few days for the Black Widows, but after all the fighting and running that they have had to endure, they forgot that it was possible to have fun every now and again. Sure, maybe they should be planning how to break Alexei out of prison, but one thing lead to another and Yelena insisted she could perform a better three point pose than Natasha herself.

"No, it doesn't. If you push up with that arm, you aren't going to have enough balance. It isn't about looking good when you land, it's about getting back up." Natasha tried to explain to the younger Widow.

"So you're telling me that you Avengers aren't constantly thinking about how you are going to look on the covers of magazines and television? Natasha, you can't fool me." Yelena retorted as she tried to keep optimal balance in her three-point pose just to defy her sister's advice and prove her wrong.

"Well, when you save the world multiple times, you don't have the energy to think about fashion all that much." Natasha tried to explain to her wobbling sister. "I can tell." Yelena spoke. "After all, I'm the one with the stylish AND practical vest." She smiled.

"It's tacky."

"Got more pockets that you." She shrugged, almost completely falling over and losing her balance at the notion. Luckily, Natasha was there to catch her sister, hands pressed against her sides to ensure she wouldn't fall on her face.

..Which caused the younger of the two to shoot up with a soft gasp.

Natasha blinked, thinking at first she just startled her sister. But no, that wasn't it.. All of a sudden, some memories began to wake up in her mind that she had forgotten about after all these years..

Memories of play fighting with Yelena in their childhood home of Ohio. While Natasha would usually win, having already been trained as a Black Widow, she would occasionally let Yelena win just to make her feel good.

But she would never, ever let Yelena win when it came to their favorite sport, which was tickle fighting..

"Yelena..?" Natasha asked, her sister turning around to face her, doing her best to keep her composure and play it cool after her reaction. "I.. Yeah? What is it?"

"Do you remember, when we were kids.. We would play a game.." Natasha smiled a little bit, Yelena's cheeks darkening and trying to avoid the topic which she knew her sister was trying to get at. "I was very young. I do not remember such.. Such trivial details!" She said, which caused Natasha to smile a little wider. "Are you sure? Because I remember your favorite game.." She took a step towards her sister..

But Yelena would not be caught off guard so easily..

Already reaching for Natasha's arm, Yelena tried to pull her sister in and drag her to the ground. Both Widows since arriving at their safe house had stripped of their jumpsuits, and were in more casual attire. Both in tank tops, socks and pajama bottoms, which had swayed in the air as Yelena tried to flip her sister onto her back, though Natasha would not be taken down so quickly and easily..

Wrapping her legs around Yelena's arm, she pulled her down with her and pinned that arm with her legs, leaving her sister with only one arm to defend herself with, though Natasha was swift and managed to pin the flailing arm above Yelena's head.. In their tussle, it caused Yelena's top to rise and expose her stomach.. And left Natasha with one free hand, wiggling her red nails above the belly of her younger sister..

"I..! You release me this instant..! I'll.. I'm not even ticklish anymore..! Those childish games don't matter..!" Yelena said, her belly sinking in as much as possible as if to defend itself from the ever approaching claw of doom.. "Uh-huh. Theeeeen this won't bother you?" Natasha smiled before her nails struck their target, the right side of Yelena's exposed tummy, causing a squeak to slip through her lips, trying to roll onto her side and keep composure before cracking..

But Natasha's hands were more dedicated than Yelena's lips.. Which began to slip into a wider and wider smile, before the unthinkable happened..

..She began to giggle..

"Cuhut.. Ihit ohohohout..!~" Yelena snorted, Natasha's nails skittering closer to the middle of her sister's belly in retaliation to her sign of resistance. "Say I win." Natasha said, wanting to retain her undefeated streak of tickle fights with her sister. "NOHO! I wihill ehEHENDUHUHURE FAHAHAR WOHohorse tohohorture behefore ahahadmiHIHITTING SUHUCH LIHIhihies!"

"That never stopped me before." Natasha teased, deciding how is the perfect opportunity to use one of her secret weapons. Leaning down, she puckered her lips and blew a massive raspberry right on Yelena's helpless belly button, and her expression said it all. Eyes closed in a howl of silent laughter, the wheezing Widow arched her back and kicked her legs before losing herself in a fit of fulfilling and adorable laughter. "NOHOHO! N-Nahahatahasha wahahAHAHAI -"

She was cut off by yet another raspberry, her lungs unable to make a sound to properly exemplify how the ticklish girl felt, but the way her stomach quivered, the way she shivered, the shaking of her legs, it told a story of a girl who has not been tickled in over twenty years and forgot how ticklish, yet in love with the sensation, she was.

For a moment she felt like a little girl back in Ohio. For a moment she looked up at her blue-haired older sister. For a moment she heard Don McLean on the radio. For a moment she even saw their mother, or as she was known to the girls as the mighty tickle momster, sneaking in to join in the pile of ticklish fun the girls were having, only to exhaust themselves and fall asleep in a cuddle puddle on the floor.

She had forgotten those wonderful memories, and it took Natasha to remind her of these things.

But she was an adult now.

And she could fight back.

Natasha had let her guard down just long enough for Yelena to shoot her legs up and wrap them around her sister's body and arms, rolling her onto her back and pinning her down. Natasha was so distracted with tickling the younger woman, she had forgotten how formidable of a fighter she had grown up to be.. "I.. Wait, Yelena..! Okay maybe we've horsed around enough..! We should get back to work an - "

"Nyet." Was all Yelena said, smiling and digging into her sister's hips, causing her to instantly enter a fit of squealing and wiggling, tugging at her arms trapped between her sister's legs, if not to fight back AT LEAST cover her face to hide her burning cheeks from the teasing smile that was looking right at her. "Come on. Fight back. The big bad Avenger can't handle a little tickling? You have beaten gods, robot armies, S.H.I.E.L.D., even. Why can't you take your younger sister tickling you?"

Yelena was loving this, and Natasha could tell, even as she struggled wildly to rescue her hips from the dreaded assault they had no option but to endure." YOHOU.. AHAH WEHEHE NEHEED TOHO FOHOCUS!" She tried to explain through her laughter, hands flapping to try and reach Yelena's hips. "We didn't need to focus when you were tickling me. Maybe you should learn to focus. What's our next move, huh?"

Natasha couldn't believe she was stuck in this situation. She couldn't believe it even more when Yelena began to squeeze right into her thighs. "AAGGHH! STAHAHAP! WAHAIT I..!" "You what? Give up?"

Natasha was willing to do a lot to get Yelena to stop, but under NO circumstances would she give up. Not to Yelena. Not to somebody she has never, ever lost a tickle fight to. Managing to barely squeeze a hand free, she went for the one spot she knew she could win..

Yelena was too distracted to notice at first, but when she felt Natasha wrap an arm around her ankles she almost panicked. Toes curled in their socks, Yelena had to act fast.. And dove for Natasha's ankles.. Both girls managing to lock each other's feet in headlocks, once more finding themselves on equal footing - no pun intended.

Natasha peeled off the socks before her, trying to act quickly, knowing that she had to get Yelena to surrender first before her own soles were attacked. Feeling the cool breeze brush against her toes was warning enough that Yelena had ripped those socks off and it was all or nothing now..

Natasha went right for the arches, scratching her nails in which elicited a shriek from Yelena's lips, which was almost as loud as the squeal that crawled out of Natasha's throat when Yelena skittered her nails into that bare heel, both girls rolling around on the ground, refusing to release each other, both girls wanting nothing more than to prove the superior fighter in the art of tickling. Both were so equally matched, but both had their own unique ways to fight back..

Natasha was so skilled, her nails sharper and more precise, as if every wrinkle was forced to be stimulated in the most ticklish ways possible. Yelena, however, was more frantic. Unpredictable. Darting back and forth between different spots on Natasha's feet, the older Widow unable to keep up with the frantic nature that she had to endure, even moreso when Yelena tried to press her own feet into Natasha's face to both hide her soles and to annoy the Avenger into surrender more quickly..

"YOHOU.. LEHET GOHOHO!"

"YOHOHOU FIHIRST! AAGGHH STAHAP!"

"YOHOU FIHIRST!"

"NOHO YOHOU FIHIRST!!"

One had to give, but neither one was willing to lose. Yelena couldn't lose, she had to prove herself to her sister. Natasha had to defend her streak. But only one was willing to go the extra mile to drive her sister crazy.

"N-NOHOHO! AAHHAHAH ST-STAHAP THAHAT! W-WAHAHAIT!!"

Once Yelena began to nibble into Natasha's toes, she had no idea how to react to this situation. She had been tortured, broken, and endured horrors beyond what she was capable of knowing how to cope with, yet still walked forward and tried to be the best person she could be.

But what she learned on this night was toe nibbling was something she had no idea how to handle.

"AAGGHHAHAHAH I GIHIVE I GIHIHIVE!! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN!~"

Yelena stopped, Natasha tapping out on the floor as the younger sister pulled her feet free.. Finally.. She had won.. Catching her breath and laying across the calves of her fallen foe.. Smiling and turning her head to look at her..

Both girls were tired, their hair stuck to their face.. But they smiled at each other.. "Who's.. Ahah.. Who's the winner now..?~" Yelena asked, panting as Natasha chuckled.. "Fine.. Yohou are the behetter tickle master.. I hehereby grant you the rank of Master Tickler.." Natasha said with a smile, for the first time in a while just feeling happy to be with somebody who she could consider family..

"Good.. Now say my vest is cool.." Yelena added, Natasha shaking her head before laying it back down on the floor.. "Yeah, no.." She said..

She was then laughing her head off when Yelena went back to nibbling and scratching those sensitive soles of the Avenger.. "OKAHAY OKAHAHAY IHIT'S COHOOL!!~"

It wouldn't be too long after this that they would fall asleep in each other's arms on the floor, very much like they did when they were little girls..

Little did the Widows know, they would once again enter combat with the mighty Tickle Momster in the not too distant future..

[hjazysol]

Well I did miss this in the original post but I completely forgot to even talk about the Power System ontop of the Power of Friendship.

Now first of all. Power Scaling.

Is next to non existent. Don't bother trying you will go insane in trying to do so.

You could have someone on the verge of death. They blatantly state. "Damn I have no magic left." Then the enemy says something disrespectful to the guild then they'll be like "That was just a prank...My magic is all good." Then the proceeding attack spreads across an entire country.

As a recent example Erza was in the middle of fighting her mom. She won. Then in a bitch move Irene summoned a big ass meteor from this far away.

That spiraled the whole sky as it fell into the atmosphere. Now Erza with this beat up body and only one arm. Used some friendship fueled magic to blast up at the meteor and successfully obliterate it.

I love it. Usually something like this would come of as silly. And it is. And I love it. Now the way I went into this. I was already aware most the conflicts were resolved with friend power. So the way I visualised it was like an rpg. And it really is just that honestly. Erza quite literally is a walking inventory. And some rpg's do unthinkable stuff with little explanation on the regular.

So it really was just. Normal. Now in general I've never understood why PoF gets so many eye rolls for existing. Like they just wanna protect the people they care about so they push themselves even if their body is saying no.

...If im being perfectly honest...Ichigo in Bleach doesn't necessarily have his own main goal in the majority of the series most the time everything he does is a direct result of someone he cares deeply about needing his help and protection so he fights for them. He's a reactionary protagonist.

Where as someone like Luffy in One Piece. He just does whatever the hell he feels like doing. He doesn't wait for things to happen he just does them. The best example from my favourite arc is at the start of Enies Lobby Luffy did not wait for the crew to make a plan before heading there.

Luffy just went straight in ahead of everyone. And charged ahead. And while he does fight for his friends when he needs to. The mood surrounding him is a lot different than I got stronger last second to beat the shit out of you. Like in cases like Arlong Park. Luffy was just better at fighting. And when he isn't like with Kaido currently he'll train so that he can win next time.

Now Natsu is kind of both sometimes he just does things on impulse because that's what he deems appropriate. Or he will be forced to react to some of the stuff occuring around him and work around it, the Tenrou Island invasion being an example.

But I ultimately see the moments where Natsu actually wins with help from his friends better than last minute power ups when the mc appears in a bad spot. In most cases with Natsu it's less of just him on his own. As shown when faced with Gildarts true power he knows when he has absolutely 0 chance of winning.

But if he has assistance from allies he is more confident about things. E.g against Zero, Precht. In my opinion that is not bad. Like there's for the most part at least a valid reason for why he gets the power and why those connections with those friends matter.

It's also not too unbelievable either. As in these characters all get along unbelievably well with one another. Sitting back and just seeing them get up to silly antics together it's like watching an actual family or just being, them. All the relationships are believeable enough to actually see why they fight so hard for the others' sakes. And the love relationships are all really sweet.

Like i dont remember the last time i saw an anime that charmingly brought about a love relationship. And didn't just put two people together because why not. Like a series where the chemistry is visble every second they share the screen together and have their little banter. IS CUTE AS FUCK!

That and you don't have a bunch of shipping wars. You'll have your canon ship and if the fans don't like it thats fine. Cause they'll at least acknowledge that as the real one where as something with no real relationships ends up with a usually messy amount of ship speculation like we're talking some reaches of ships. They talked for 2 seconds this ship is now officially better than the greatest out there.

I also like the fact that becoming a Dragon Slayer with a secondary ability basically just comes down to eat it and use it til you stop getting fatigued. I prefer Gajeel's Iron Shadow Dragon but Natsu's Fire Lightning is cool to. Gajeel's just feels more noticeable visually. Wendy's Dragon Force clears both though.

I also don't mean to drag Sting & Rouge down too hard here cause they do... ...Try... but they get bodied so much its not even funny 😭 like there's doing someone dirty then there's. Letting BOTH 3rd Gen Dragon Slayers charge a combined attack. Just standing there. Then instantly overpowering them with your own attack.

Then they kinda just show up every now and then. Get beat up leave. Got crucified for a short while. And so on and so forth. Man Ichiya lasts longer in fights than those two Oh but Sting won against Larcade! Like damn thank god he got at least 1 Dub since the Grand Magic Games right!

And as for Rouge...How are you gonna let Gajeel use your Shadow Dragon Slayer Magic better than you. THE Shadow Dragon Slayer. If I'm Skiadrum I'm just sat up in heaven wondering "Where in God did I go wrong?"

Cobra & Laxus don't really ever use Dragon Force as often but the fact that Cobra or Erik rather is Poison bothers me cause like when I think Erik I think sound. Not Poison. But ah well.

Gray's Demon Magic is cold af though. Even cooler than before.

[ashyblondwaves]

I Saw What You Did

Prompt: Winning a Teddy Bear for the other.

Word Count: 2,219

Warnings: Mature. References to sex and very, very mild horror references.

Summary: Vision sees a Teddy Bear at the carnival that he needs to have, but Wanda isn't so sure about it. There's something awful about this bear. The way it looks is unsettling, but Vision brings it back to the compound anyway, obsessed with a monstrosity that will make him question everything that's logical.

***

They were packed shoulder to shoulder, a faint hint of musk wafting in the summer air. Wanda’s hand was nestled comfortably in Vision’s as they navigated the crowded carnival together. Vision pushed through the groups of people with purpose, as though he were on a mission only he knew about, his neck craned in search of… something.

“Vis,” Wanda called, tugging at Vision’s arm. “What are you looking for?”

“It was right around here…” Vision replied, mostly to himself. “Right…. THERE!”

Wanda followed Vision’s outstretched arm, her eyes landing on the biggest, ugliest teddy bear she’d ever seen. She wasn’t even sure you could call it a teddy bear. Its mouth was downturned into a frown, the fur looked to be matted and staring right back at Wanda was the most unnerving pair of red button eyes she’d ever seen.

“That’s what you are hellbent on?” Wanda asked, a soft laugh escaping from her mouth.

“Isn’t it brilliant?” Vision asked, a wide grin playing on his lips. “I have to have it.”

This time, Wanda’s laugh was a loud, booming howl. The thought of Vision having a 7 foot teddy bear sitting in his room at the compound was amusing to say the least. But at the same time, it was unsettling. She didn’t like the bear. There was something about it that got under her skin. She almost laughed again at the thought of not liking a teddy bear and how crazy it would have sounded if she mentioned it out loud. It was nothing more than fur and stuffing, what was there not to like?

“Shall I try my luck?” Vision asked, his voice full of hope. He gave a gentle pull to Wanda’s arm and they started back through the flood of people and over to the booth containing the massive, daunting bear.

The game looked simple enough. You’re given what looks like a homemade fishing pole with a ring on the end of it. The point was to put the ring around the bottle and make the bottle stand up.

Vision smirked, the side of his mouth lifting up just enough to tell Wanda that he was confident. Maybe too confident.

Fourteen dollars and seven tries later, Vision was flustered. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed and scoured through his wallet for another pair of singles, only to come up empty.

“Can I try?” Wanda asked, holding out the two dollar fee to play the game. She was handed her homemade fishing pole and she went to work. Carefully, she lined the ring up with the bottle and slipped it over the neck. But that was where the easy part ended. While it wasn’t impossible, it certainly took a steady hand and incredible concentration to get the bottle to stand.

Wanda stole a glance at Vision, the hope on his face palpable. That’s when she knew she had to do it. She waited for the perfect moment, when Vision was lovingly staring at the creepy oversized teddy bear and the carnival worker was off collecting money and explaining the game to another family. With her free hand, she pointed at the bottle and made it stand up, being careful to keep the ring over the bottle’s neck as she magicked the bottle into place.

“I did it!” Wanda wailed. She stayed perfectly still so the bottle wouldn’t tip back over. She knew these games tended to be stacked in favor of the carnival. Any sudden movement could wipe away the look of elation that was now plastered on Vision’s face.

“Winner, winner!” The carnival worker yelled, ringing an old bell. “The little lady here did it! Any prize, miss. What will it be?”

“The bear,” Wanda said, pointing unnecessarily at the seven foot monstrosity dangling from a hook.

“The bear, it is!” Wanda could hear the frustration in the carnival worker’s voice. She’d beaten the game and now he had to give up a big prize. Wanda shrugged, more focused on Vision’s eyes. Wide, blue orbs filled with pure joy stayed focused on the bear as it was hoisted down off its hook.

“Here it is,” the carnival worker said through gritted teeth, trying to push the bear into Wanda’s arms.

“No, not for me,” Wanda said, looking over at Vision who smiled like a little kid at their birthday party. “Hand that thing to him. He wanted it.”

The carnival worker complied, shoving the awkwardly sized bear at Vision who happily grabbed it and raised it over his shoulders.

He was giving this eerie teddy bear a shoulder ride.

“Thank you, darling,” Vision said, bending down to press a soft kiss to Wanda’s lips as the bear flipped from Vision’s shoulders and hit Wanda in the head. She looked at the bear with mild disdain. Why did he suddenly look pleased? “He’ll look rather dashing in one of the chairs in my room, don’t you think?”

“Wherever you decide to put him will be perfect,” Wanda lied, deciding to humor Vision’s sudden fascination with an oversized, creepy teddy bear.

“I’ve never seen something so large,” Vision said, adjusting his position with the bear. “It’d be a shame to leave without it.”

If navigating the crowd on their own was difficult, it was ten times more difficult doing so with a seven foot stuffed animal clogging up the space. They bumped and pushed their way through the crowd, hundreds of apologies floating through the air as a stray stuffed arm flew out and hit a woman square in the face as they exited the carnival.

Then it barely fit in the car. After a bit of pushing and shoving, the bear was safely burrowed in the back seat of Tony Stark’s Audi, its horror-like features pressed up against the glass of the rear windshield.

“I hope we can get him back out of there,” Wanda said, wiping sweat from her forehead. She actually hoped it would be stuck in there and rip trying to get it back out and then it would be destroyed. She just didn’t like the thing and she couldn’t explain why. It felt a little too lifelike to her. Maybe she was seeing things, but it certainly looked like the bear’s expression had changed since being taken off the hook at the carnival.

***

Vision was right, though; the bear did look quite dashing on one of the chairs in his room. The light cream color of the stuffed animal was a perfect contrast to the rich mahogany of the chair, but there was still something unnerving about the bear. Wanda would watch it as she walked through Vision’s room and she would have sworn its eyes were following her. Those red beady eyes with the smallest hint of black in the middle had moved, Wanda would swear to it.

Being with Vision in his room was even more unnerving with the bear sitting just mere feet from where they sat tangled naked together, her hips rocking on top of Vision’s.

Wanda paused, looking over her shoulder at the stuffed bear. It felt like it was watching them. “Can we move that bear for right now?”

Vision groaned, clearly not in any mood to stop making love to move the bear. Instead, Wanda lifted her hand, the red orb glowing in the dimly lit room and picked up the bear. It floated through the air, limp limbs dangling and she shoved it behind the chair, out of sight.

“Where were we?” Wanda purred. Rolling her hips again, eliciting a moan from Vision.

After, as Wanda fixed her clothes, she walked over to where the bear lay crumpled on the floor behind Vision’s chair. Vision had gone to the kitchen to get Wanda some water, so she took a moment to really stare at the bear’s, dumb smile. A smile he did not have at the carnival. Suddenly, without warning, the bear lifted its head to look at her.

“I saw what you did,” it whispered, rising up on stubby legs and walking closer to Wanda “You’re a cheater.”

“It got you off that hook, didn’t it?” Wanda pointed out, backing away from the unthinkable sight walking toward her.

“You cheated,” the bear growled. “You must pay.”

Wanda was backed up against the wall, the bear getting closer to her with each passing moment.

It was Vision that ended it. He phased through the wall without warning, glass of water in hand as the bear was just about to reach out for Wanda. As quickly as it happened, the bear went limp, falling into a heap right in front of Wanda. She kicked the stuffed creature and hoped it hurt.

“Your bear!” Wanda bellowed, kicking it again. She wasn’t sure how to finish what she wanted to say, Hey, Vision. So your bear came to life and threatened me. It would sound ridiculous and the last thing Wanda needed was to sound hysterical right now. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s just a toy,” Vision reminded her. “What’s not to like?”

“That thing is not a toy,” Wanda replied, giving the bear another kick for good measure. “It…” she sighed, knowing how her next words were going to make her sound. “...talked to me.”

“It talked to you,” Vision repeated, the words coming out slowly as Vision searched for an answer that he likely did not have in any of his databases. “What.. what…”

Wanda didn’t give Vision a chance to finish his sentence.

“I want it gone,” she said, her tone serious and face expressionless. “Burn it.”

“Now wait…”

“Burn it or I will,” Wanda yelled, her eyes glowing red as she stormed out of Vision’s room. She went to her room and locked the door behind her, a mix of fear and shame coursing through her body. She was scared of a stuffed toy. A 7 foot stuffed bear that could walk and talk and wanted to punish her.

Nothing was normal about the situation, not the way the bear was won or the unimaginable reality that this thing was alive. Wanda took a deep breath and resolved that no matter what Vision said, she was going to get rid of the bear, once and for all and she was going to do it immediately.

She shouldn’t have stormed out of Vision’s room. The bear was right there to take care of and she left. Now she had to make the embarrassing move of going back to Vision’s room and force him to see that this bear was not a toy.

Vision was still standing where he was when Wanda left, clearly trying to figure out what had happened and why.

Wanda was quick, picking up the bear and dangling it in the air. She shook it, waiting for it to do something. Anything.

“Come on you piece of shit,” Wanda snarled. “Talk!”

She kept shaking the bear, throwing it around the room as Vision came up to her. He grabbed her shoulders and turned toward him, forcing her to break her concentration and drop the bear.

“What has gotten into you, Wanda?”

Breathless, Wanda tried again to explain what happened with the bear, but Vision wasn’t buying it.

“It’s impossible for this bear to come to life,” Vision reasoned.

“Is it?” A gravelly voice rose up behind Wanda.

Vision was wide eyed and speechless as he watched the stuffed monstrosity walk to them, an evil glint in eyes that were trained on Wanda.

“Cheater,” it said, shuffling on stubby legs, a sight that would normally be comical but was instead reduced to panic and confusion in the midst of an attack.

The Mind Stone lit up, a beam of yellow light buzzing out of Vision’s forehead as the beam came in contact with the bear’s stomach, melting the already matted fur. Vision continued, going for the legs this time, melting the both to the spot. The bear lunged forward with a grunt, arms out and still trying to reach Wanda.

But the bear was no match for Vision. He easily melted it down, leaving a heap of burnt synthetic materials stuck to the floor of his room.

“What was that?” Vision asked, still unable to comprehend what just happened.

“You picked a possessed teddy bear,” Wanda said, not believing the words that were coming out of her mouth. “And… it wanted to hurt me.”

Vision laughed, the sound that came out was one of deep confusion. Instead of saying anything else about the bear, he pulled Wanda close to him and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I will never let anything hurt you,” Vision whispered.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Even if it’s a bear I won for you?”

“Especially if it’s a bear you won for me.”

They moved to Wanda’s room, curling up together under the covers and putting Dick Van Dyke on. Wanda rested her head on Vision’s warm chest, smiling at his laughter. It reverberated through his chest, almost tickling her ear.

Vision pressed kissing to the top of Wanda’s head, his fingers raking through her long tresses. It was a move that always made Wanda fall asleep and she was just about fully dozed off when the shrill voice of Tony Stark cut through the air.

“Vision!” Tony yelled. “What’s this on your floor?!”

[cactusnymph]

Prompt fill #5 for @dimension20alphabet:

Escape

[part two to this]

Usually it goes like this:

 The Bad Kids eat lunch together in the cafeteria and otherwise Fabian doesn’t talk much to any of them over the course of his day. It’s not like he’s actively ignoring them, but he’s more on the side of the popular kids. The cool guys. The jocks.

 Meanwhile, the others—well, maybe except for Fig—don’t exactly fit the bill.

 Sure, Fabian would die for any of them, but somehow the social structures at school still feel restrictive in a way that gives him a hard time moving against them.

 Now though, now the unthinkable has happened.

 The Ball is ignoring him.

 Well, not as much as ignoring Fabian as he’s actively fleeing from him the second Fabian comes into view. At first Fabian thought that The Ball had just forgotten something in his locker when he turned around and ran—ran—in the opposite direction of Fabian.

 But it happens again during the first break and Riz is not at their usual table when Fabian joins the others for lunch.

 Everyone is looking at him.

 “What?”, he asks.

 His mood was bad all weekend. After the ridiculous dare he received on Theo’s party The Ball was nowhere to be seen. Both Adaine and Theo—Theo of all people, as if he was The Ball’s friend—followed him out of the room while everyone continued to stare at Fabian accusingly.

 Even Gorgug looked somewhat perturbed, like it was Fabian’s fault that a room full of people had chanted about him kissing The Ball. That hadn’t been his idea!

 “Hey man, you know, you could’ve said ‘no’ without making it sound like, you know, Riz was like, a slimy ghoul or whatever”, Ragh had said to him quietly.

 As far as Fabian knows, Theo and The Ball had ended up making out in one of the empty rooms or behind the house. Those pictures in his head didn’t lead to his weekend getting any better either.

 He trained way too much with his mother. He ate so many kippers that Cathilda asked him if he was feeling alright—which he wasn’t, but he couldn’t exactly explain why. He went for a run three times on Sunday and was still feeling on edge about everything that had happened.

 In the end he crashed on his bed with sore muscles and a scene of The Ball and Theo kissing playing on repeat in his mind that followed him into his dreams.

 And now his friends were looking at him as if he had personally murderer The Ball. With his bare hands. For fun.

 “Did you talk to Riz?”, Adaine wants to know.

 “No.”

 Silence answers him and he looks around the table.

 “What? He saw me in the hallway, turned around and ran away!”, Fabian exclaims angrily. His face is getting hot. He hates all this emotional bullshit and almost wishes he could just go back to being his father’s darling boy instead of his own man, because somehow that seemed way easier.

 “Oh no. Poor Riz”, Kristen says and Fabian almost loses his shit right there.

 Why is it ‘poor Riz’? Why is no one acknowledging what a shit weekend he had? And how fucking dumb that dare was? And how it’s offensive to consider that Riz and Theo made out behind the house while Fabian was being stared at like someone who strangles puppies? And also, he fucking hates it to be ignored.

 He is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

 He refuses to be ignored!

 “Did you try to text him to apologize?”, Gorgug asks.

 Fabian stares at him.

 “For what?”

 “I mean. You know, because. He looked pretty hurt and like. Isn’t he your best friend?”, Gorgug says quietly and Fabian feels like someone has dropped an iron weight into his stomach.

 “I mean, I guess we’re friends, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, you know—best friends is maybe a little—“

 A voice in his head whispers “Why would you say that, isn’t that a lie?” but Fabian doesn’t get to listen to it as Fig lowers her fork and looks past Fabian at someone right behind him.

 “Oh, no”, Gorgug says very quietly and Kristen gets up halfway from her chair which leads Fabian to turn around just to be faced with The Ball’s very pale and very unhappy face. For a split second Fabian has the opportunity to notice that Riz looks as if he hasn’t slept or eaten for the past two days, but then he notices Fabian looking at him and escapes immediately.

 “Okay, Fabian, I know talking about your feelings is super fucking hard and everything, but get a grip, man”, Fig snaps at him.

 “My feelings are perfectly fine, thank you”, Fabian grits through his teeth but he doesn’t touch the rest of his food and instead spends the rest of his lunch break cursing the universe for having The Ball turn up right at that moment when Fabian announced that them being best friends might be a bit of a stretch.

 Fabian never really had a best friend before.

 Fuck if he knows what that’s even supposed to mean.

 Riz always just went ahead and announced it to the whole world after they’d barely known each other for a week and back then it had been completely ludicrous.

 Now, though.

 Fabian doesn’t know.

 He might have announced that toxic masculinity is dead, but the truth is that it’s still hard dealing with all this emotional bullshit when no one ever really taught him how it works. And he’ll rather be shot than admit that. At least for now.

 It was hard enough to deal with the fact that he never really did anything on his own and was nothing but a pale shadow of his father, but now that he managed to work through that, everything else was still as difficult as before.

 And who the fuck are you supposed to talk to about these things?

 His father is a madman flying a dead dragon through hell.

 His mother heats up whole cantaloupes in hot pans, because she doesn’t even know how to cook some fucking scrambled eggs.

 Cathilda would probably know a thing or two about this stuff, but Fabian has yet to fully grow into the whole Cathilda-is-basically-his-surrogate-mother-and-not-just-his-maid-thing.

 And how is he going to explain this whole mess anyway?

 “Hey Cathilda, I went to this party and someone told me to kiss The Ball and I was like ‘No, that’s ridiculous’ and now everyone is acting like I’m a complete asshole and The Ball doesn’t talk to me anymore, which is quite frankly offensive, because he always says that I’m his fucking best friend.”

 Even to Fabian that sounds ridiculous. And it doesn’t take into account his obsessive thoughts about Theo and Riz kissing or how The Ball might have overheard Fabian saying that they’re not best friends. And his bloodshot eyes with dark shadows under them. And his pale green face with all those freckles.

 And...

 Fabian decides that school can suck his dick on this terrible Monday and he leaves the Aguefort Academy directly after lunch break instead of going to his fighter class.

 It’s not like he needs it, anyway.

 He could probably wipe the floor with his teacher at this point.

 On his way home he receives multiple text messages from his friends.

 “Hey Fabian, where are you? Are you okay?”, from Gorgug.

 “Just text him”, from Adaine.

 “Maybe Jawbone can help you out, he’s really good at this relationship stuff”, from Kristen.

 Relationship stuff?

 What relationship stuff?

 The Ball is not his boyfriend.

 Fabian laughs as he passes a mother with her two kids and she looks slightly concerned about his well being and tugs her children further down the sidewalk.

 What if The Ball wants Theo to be his boyfriend?

 Fabian stops in the middle of the road and stares at his phone. He doesn’t want to talk to Jawbone. Sure, Jawbone is cool and everything. But talking to Jawbone feels too much like admitting that he might have a serious problem, more so than if he maybe just talks to one of his friends.

 For a split second Fabian thinks that wants to talk to Riz until he remembers that that’s not possible right now.

 Because Riz doesn’t talk to him. And also Riz wouldn’t want to talk about anything related to kissing or—or—

 Fabian stuffs his crystal back into his pocket and turns a corner that leads him towards Mordred Manor instead of home.

 Ragh is outside in the vast garden of the manor, wearing a straw hat and some shorts and nothing else while he waters some plants.

 “Hey, what’s up, bro?”, he calls over to Fabian, turns the hose and hits Fabian square in the chest with a jet of cold water. It only takes a few seconds until he’s completely drenched.

 Ragh laughs loudly while he turns off the water and throws the hose down into the grass.

 “You good, man?”, Ragh asks as he walks over to him. Fabian feels like on any other day he might have simply punched Ragh in the face for getting his expensive sneakers wet, but today it just seems like maybe he deserved a shower of cold water.

 “Um—yeah. No. I don’t really know”, he says and his voice reminds him of the time when the whole Leviathan debacle went down. He clears his throat and wipes some water out of his face. “Do you—uh. Have some time to talk?”

 “Sure, dude. Let’s find a spot with a little more shade.”

 Fabian hates the feeling of water in his shoes, so he takes them off and follows Ragh through the garden and into the shade under a big maple tree.

 “What’s up, dude?”, Ragh asks and throws himself down into the ground, pulls the straw hat off his head and leans against the thick trunk of the tree. Fabian sits down cross-legged and puts his sneakers to the side.

 “So—uh”, he starts and then closes his mouth immediately because he hasn’t actually thought this through at all. Ragh looks at him curiously and Fabian wonders if there is a good and nonchalant way to ask the things he wants to ask. Instead of acting cool and composed how he wants to, what comes out of his mouth is:

 “Do you think The Ball and Theo made out?”

 There is a beat of silence in which Fabian considers just getting up and running out of the garden and into traffic. This was not what he is supposed to ask.

 This is not—

 “Dude”, Ragh says and he leans forward to look at Fabian. “You look like you’re about to puke, man.”

 Fabian doesn’t feel great. His chest feels like someone installed iron clasps around it and is pulling his ribs tight and his stomach is doing some acrobatics that it’s absolutely not supposed to do.

 Why did he ask this?

 And what if Ragh says yes?

 Why the fuck does it even bother him?

 The Ball can kiss whoever the fuck he wants!

 “I’m—sure. Fine. Yeah. It’s all—uh. Fine.”

 “Yeah, dude, no offense, but like, it doesn’t look particularly fine to me. So—what you’re asking me is. If Riz and Theo got it going after that whole Truth or Dare thing?”

 Fabian takes a deep breath, which seems particular hard for some reason. This is ridiculous.

 He’s Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He knows how to fucking breathe.

 “I—guess?”

 “Hm”, Ragh says and leans back again. “Not sure if that’s my story to tell, bro. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sorry you feel like shit, but, like. Isn’t that something you should talk to Riz about?”

 Fabian thinks that, if one other person tells him to talk to The Ball, he might actually commit cold blooded murder.

 “Great suggestion, seeing as to how he keeps running away from me like he’s afraid I’m going to breathe fire at him any second”, he growls and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Ragh sighs and cocks his head from side to the other.

 “Would it like, bother you if they actually had made out?”

 Fabian wants to snort and say “No”. What comes out instead is a garbled noise as his brain is bombarded with pictures about Riz and Theo kissing.

 “Woah, dude, okay”, Ragh says and he looks alarmed. “Breathe, man.”

 Fabian can do that. Breathing is really easy, except that it’s not.

 “Okay, dude, Imma just say it now, okay? It’s like ripping a band-aid off!”, Ragh says loudly, grips Fabian’s shoulders and stares at him very intently. “I think you’re totally into Riz.”

 Fabian’s brain feels like it’s suffering from a bad case of frostbite. His thoughts turn sluggish as he tries to process what Ragh just said, but it doesn’t make any sense. Fabian is not into The Ball. He’s not in love with Riz. That is insane.

 “Okay, so, hear me out, bro. Remember how I was totally in love with Dayne? And it took me like a million years to like, get that? Feels pretty similar to what’s happening with you right now, right? Because we’re like, these manly dudes and we’re supposed to be into hot girls and all that stuff, right? So it doesn’t really fit the picture, but it’s totally fine, dude. It’s all good. You can be in love with Riz.”

 Fabian blinks at him. He can hear the words and he can feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards as if to try to form into a grin.

 “Don’t be insane, Ragh. I’m not—That’s—“

 “It bothers you when he’s with other people because you’re fucking jealous, dude. I’ve been there, okay? And it’s like this weird thing of—you’re not allowed to be jealous because that’s fucking weird, right? Because that’s like, your best bro and everything. But then you keep obsessing about him making out with other people and then it’s like, okay, but what if he kissed me and then you feel really fucking bad, right? Because you’re brain shouldn’t go there?”

 For the very first time Fabian imagines what would have happened if he, instead of saying “No, that’s ridiculous”, had actually kissed The Ball.

 He thinks about Riz’ sharp teeth and how he keeps chewing on his bottom lip when he’s nervous and the second Fabian’s brain arrives at Riz’ bottom lip it feels like there is a dam inside his brain breaking.

 He imagines grabbing Riz and pulling him into his lap, pressing his lips against his and hearing Riz make a choked noise against his lips—

 “What the actual fuck.”

 Ragh lets go of his shoulders and nods.

 “Yeah, dude. Intense, right?”

 “But—why?”

 Ragh shrugs and rubs the back of his head with one of his hands. Somehow the cold water drenching Fabian’s clothing feels like a blessing now because his skin seems to be on fire.

 Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

 “Because, dude.”

 “But like—what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

 “I mean. Sounds to me like you should totally kiss your Ball, bro.”

 Fabian’s stomach does multiple somersaults.

 “But he’s not—into that kind of stuff.”

 Ragh chuckles.

 “Dude, I love Riz, I really do, but I feel like now that you figured this part of the whole deal out I can just tell you, that like. Riz doesn’t want to make out with Theo or pretty much anyone, right? Which is totally fine, bro, don’t get me wrong. But also, like. I’m a hundred percent certain that he would totally kiss you, man.”

 Fabian’s first response is “Of course he does, why shouldn’t he” but then his brain catches up and his skin starts to tingle.

 Maybe this is why kissing Aelwyn for the second time wasn’t really working out. Maybe this is what Aelwyn meant when she said “Well, I suppose we’re not a good match after all”.

 “Riz... wants to kiss me?”

 Ragh nods and grins.

 “Yeah, dude.”

 “Okay. Well—uh. I have to go.”

 “Don’t forget your shoes!”, Ragh shouts after him but Fabian doesn’t give a rat’s ass about his shoes as he takes off.

 Maybe he can unpack all of this shit later. Maybe he should actually talk to Jawbone. Maybe this is going to be yet another thing that makes him different from his father and as soon as he has some time to think it through he can maybe arrive at the conclusion that that isn’t a bad thing.

 At some point he stops running because he actually has no idea where Riz is. Is he still at school? At home? At his damn office? Fabian pulls out his crystal and hastily types a message to Riz.

 “Where are you???? We need to kiss!”

 He deletes the last word and types “talk” instead. Fabian watches with his breath held as three dots appear on his screen very shortly before they disappear again. He waits in the middle of the street, no shoes on, dripping wet. People passing him by look as though they’re concerned for his mental state but Fabian couldn’t care less.

 Maybe now is not the time to be manly about his feelings if he actually wants to fucking kiss his damn best friend.

 “I need to talk to my best friend”, he types.

 The dots reappear immediately.

 “at the office”

 Fabian stuffs the crystal back into his pocket, considers calling the Hangman to drive him over there but then decides that he doesn’t want to wait for him to arrive.

 The last time Fabian was in Riz’ office there was a terribly creepy doppelganger of Riz trying to kill him, but he pushes the thought to the side as he rushes into the building, dripping water everywhere as he heads up the stairs.

 Fabian doesn’t think he can manage another emotional talk today because the last one left him completely drained and exhausted, but the second that he spots Riz behind his desk ripping some papers in a nervous craze his heart leaps into his throat and goes into overdrive immediately.

 Fuck.

 He rips open the door and Riz flinches so hard that he sends all the papers flying. Then he stares at Fabian with his huge, yellow eyes.

 “Why are you wet? And where are your shoes?”, he wants to know, looking completely confused.

 “Doesn’t matter”, Fabian says, rounds the desk and grabs Riz by the shoulders. “We need to talk about Saturday.”

 Riz turns his face away and there is a dark green blush on his cheeks and the back of his nose. Now that Fabian knows what his damn problem is he realizes how fucking badly he actually wants to kiss Riz.

 “Oh—well. Yeah. Haha, weird, right? Don’t worry about it, it was totally ridicu—“

 “I should have done it”, Fabian interjects. Riz’ eyes grow impossibly wider.

 “Wh—what?”

 “I should have done it. Kiss you, I mean. We should have kissed.”

 Who would have thought that the son of the famous Bill Seacaster would die of a heart attack at the age of eighteen while wearing no shoes and dripping wet clothes.

 “Wh—why?”

 “Because I—“

 Fabian didn’t actually get that far in his head. He grabs Riz’ shoulders tighter and fuck, he can’t bring himself to say the words.

 “Because I don’t want you to kiss anyone else”, is what he manages in the end and he watches closely as Riz’ swallows and the dark shade of green on his face grows impossibly darker still.

 “Did you mean it?”, he asks quietly, his voice raspy and hoarse.

 “Mean what?”

 “That—in your text message. About—you know. Being best friends or whatever.”

 Fabian takes a deep breath.

 “Yeah.”

 Riz makes a very small “Oh” sound and then, all of a sudden, Fabian stumbles backwards with his arms full of Goblin. It occurs to him that this is the first time they actually hugged.

 “So—uh. Can I? Um—kiss you?”, he asks and his voice sounds like he swallowed a bunch of sand.

 “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

 It turns out that kissing someone you’re actually into is better than winning a Bloodrush game, better than dancing, better than pretty much everything he’s ever done before. Riz holds onto him as if his life depended on it and Fabian feels like he won’t let his best friend down anytime soon or he might just fall over and die.

 It occurs to him that this must be Riz’ first kiss and something inside him purrs contently at the thought of that as he lets himself sink down into Riz’ chair so Riz is sitting in his lap.

 “Thought you were into that Theo dude”, he mumbles against Riz’ lips.

 “’m not.”

 “Yeah, I get that now.”

 “I’m uh—pretty much only into you. So...”

 Fabian’s heart is doing a very silly little dance in his chest but all he can bring himself to say is “Yeah”. All the other words that he probably should say get stuck somewhere half the way up his throat because his heart is beating too fast.

 “So... no more Truth or Dare”, Riz says sheepishly.

 “No, definitely not.”

 “Cool.”

 Very cool indeed, Fabian thinks, as he kisses Riz again.

[samwrights]

Team Karasuno as dads [hc]

For a married woman that doesn’t want kids, I sure do fantasize about my boys being dads a lot.

Asahi;

He definitely cried when he found out you were pregnant.

When your daughter was born, he couldn’t even be in the room because he was so overwhelmed with you being in pain and the fact he was about to bE A DAD

He doesn’t even remember how you started dating because he was so blown away by your beauty or so he claims but the fact that y’all were married?? And having a kid?? When did he get so bold??

Eventually he got over it cause he felt bad that he wasn’t in the room holding your hand while you literally pushed a whole ass human out ya cooch.

He fainted

The first time he held his daughter was the first time he had felt complete, more complete than when he rejoined the volleyball team in his third year. It felt amazingly right. He tries to deny the fact and say your wedding was just as wholesome but you can tell. Fatherhood is something entirely different for him

“She takes after momma’s beauty.” A simp through and through.

Asahi is a parental HOG. Which is kinda nice cause he loves doting on your child but also HI I AM MOM AND WOULD LIKE TO HOLD MY BABY???

He tells YOU how to hold her and feed her and little ticks about her personality like you aren’t on maternity leave and are with the baby ALL DAY (although he is REALLY pushing for you to just be a stay-at-home mom)

Because he is soooo doting, it’s very rare that you wake in the middle of the night to feed or change her—Asahi is ALL over it. But he is human and there are days he’s too tired to wake up from dead sleep. It’s ok, he’s your human. Daddy deserves rest too.

Asahi would totally be a co-sleeper, or at least nap with the baby as much as he possibly could.

Definitely bought her multiple onesies that say “daddy’s little princess”.

She gonna be a spoiled brat when she’s older 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Daichi Dadchi;

I mean he’s a literal running joke in the fandom

After being elected as the unofficial dad of the VBC in his high school days, it was no wonder that he was such a natural with your three munchkins.

Having three slightly older boys of varying ages, you relied heavily on Daichi to get through to them when you couldn’t.

He’s definitely the strict parent; your sons all try to take advantage of you 💀 demons

Your boys saw you as a pushover most of the time because you were just so tired.

“Just keep trying for a girl, they said. There’s a 50/50 chance, they said.” Was something Daichi would find you chanting to yourself often while you cooked dinner and the boys were playing soccer in the house and breaking something.

Even though Daichi is strict, he really tries to emphasize to the boys to treat you with kindness to make it a bit easier on you.

“Guys, please don’t make your mother rip her hair out.”

“We’re just playin’!” They would sing in flawed harmony

“One day, you guys are going to be all grown up with your own special person with your own kids, and you’re gonna love them so much that you’ll understand why I’m telling you to calm down and listen to your mom.” Asjdfkhlek.

“Ewwww, daddy loves mommy.”

“I sure do.”

Sugawara;

On god, Suga would be the most patient parent. He treats your toddlers like mini adults and not your insane nine year old girl or six year old boy.

He listens thoroughly when they are upset about something, cautiously listening to the deeper truths about why they’re upset and takes great care in making sure his children feel validated.

Super dad 🥰

But it’s not a random event; after being married to you for the last decade, he had so much practice with conflict resolution and genuinely listening to you that it was a natural tendency at this point.

For the most part, your children are incredibly well behaved. Sure, there’s an occasional incident because, well they’re kids. Your daughter, being the older of the two and nearly finished with primary school, was entering her phase of discovering boys and constantly writing in her diary.

Suga may be super dad, but he is not perfect, and for some reason I totally see him reading her diary.

“Koushi, put it back. Now.” He was just going to pretend that you using your mom voice on him didn’t turn him on and prepare him to fill you with another baby.

While he may be an expert on conflict resolution, you enforced respecting their privacy; quite a dynamic between the two of you in terms of validating your children as individuals.

“But honey, our daughter is starting to like boys.”

“At least one of the females in this house does.” 💀💀💀 with angels for children, someone had to be the clown of the Sugawara family and it was certainly you.

Tanaka;

You and Tanaka had your first baby in your guys’ third year of high school, which you would be lying if you said it wasn’t hell.

Tanaka fought tooth and nail to try to do everything from makin dinner, working, making sure you were getting rest, and of course still playing volleyball. Everything except actually trying to graduate.

“I don’t have time to study babe, I have practice and then we gotta put this squirt to bed.”

There was a constant argument about Tanaka continuing with volleyball that nearly forced you two to split. While you knew how important it was to him, there was no way he was going to graduate from Karasuno while he was trying to care for you, a child, work, and play volleyball.

“Ryuu, please. I know you don’t wanna quit but if you can’t pass your classes, you won’t be able to participate anyway.” He did not take well to that.

It took him time to come to his senses and in that time, you had kept you and your son away from him to allow him his space.

Apparently that was also a wrong move on your part.

He was so angry and frustrated being away from his mini me that he had easily conceded to retiring from volleyball if it meant being able to watch his little nugget learn how to sit up and crawl.

Yes, he goes HAM on the nicknames. Squirt, nugget, mini me, beanie baby, tyke, and all of the above. He pretty much calls your son everything but his actual name.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn.” He says one night while you help him study for his finals, your sleeping son swaddled in your arms.

“I’m sorry for making you give up something you love.”

“Nah, I got you and the munchkin. That’s all I need.”

Noya;

I love Noya 🥺 but at first, he is a chaotic parent. Granted y’all had your first child when you were still in college and he hadn’t the faintest clue on how to be a dad.

To be perfectly honest, you weren’t quite sure how to parent either.

Neither of you knew how to change diapers

Noya definitely got peed on more times than he wishes to admit

When your son was still a newborn, just around finals time, neither of you could figure out for the life of you why your baby was crying in the middle of the night. Which inherently made you cry because you had an 8am final and you had finished studying 5 hours prior 🙃

“Try to get some sleep, babe. I’ll take care of him.” Nishinoya’s voice was thick with exhaustion, but he knew how little you’d been sleeping since giving birth.

When you went to leave for your final, Noya was asleep in your living room rocking chair, baby safely in his arms with the both of them just snoozing away.

It was a struggle but the two of you faced the challenge together, one step at a time with your energetic four-year-old son as you graduated university. By the time you had all settled into a larger apartment together as a family, Noya had yet to pop the question. He was too busy having fun with his little man.

Sometimes it scared you how in sync he was with his child probably because he was still a child himself but it was sweet and endearing.

“Hey babe?” He asks softly after the two of you tucked away your boy for the evening. You raised in eyebrow at him, silently goading for him to continue. “Do you want to have another?” Needless to say, he sure as shit impregnated you that night asjckglpwm

Hinata;

With Hinata being an older brother, I actually see him being a wonderful dad. However, homie’s got a one-track mind and with him playing professionally, you’re usually left to do the parenting.

Your kids definitely like you more than Shoyo, not that anyone blamed anyone; they just never see daddy :(

BUT when he is in dad mode and home, you suddenly remember why you were eager as shit to have more kids with him 🥴 which explains ya you’ve got your third on the way

When he does come home, he automatically greets his older, 8 year old son with noogies and a brief wrestling session. For some reason, Hinata felt the need to compete with his own child 💀

Headass.

But when he sees his daughter, his world stops because he has favorites and EVERYONE in the Hinata house knows it

Always asking your 6 year old girl how her day was, asking how she was doing ruling over her imaginary kingdom and if she found her Prince Charming yet.

“Pffft I don’t need Prince Charming, daddy, he’s icky!!! Mommy says I don’t need a man!”

Where is the lie

“Your mom is absolutely right and you should totally listen to her, she’s the best queen in the whole world.”

Because of his one-track mind, he is engaged fully with your kids when he is actually home. Your son had naturally gotten into volleyball which, even after a long day’s practice, Shoyo spends hours training him.

“Do you think this one’s finally gonna like me more than you?” He asks one night while he’s doing the dishes after dinner, while you’re right beside him drying them off.

“Sho, our kids love you. But mom is home with them allllll day and has been since birth.”

“Can we keep trying until one of them finally likes me more?” 💀💀💀 “or until we have enough to make our own volleyball team?”

Kageyama;

How this socially inept clown got ANYONE pregnant was unthinkable. Of course, to anyone but you. After being with him all throughout high school, it was more of a wonder how you didn’t get pregnant sooner

This dude dirty. His one track mind, if not on volleyball, was entirely on you. Nearly every night was date night which ALWAYS ended with bow chicka wow wow 😏 you horny mfers yalll moved in together as soon as you graduated from Karasuno.

Clothing at home was nonexistent.

With the two of you in your second year of college, living in your apartment, and being 8 months pregnant, the air had dramatically shifted.

Kageyama’s once still high sex drive had been channeled into school work, working, and of course, volleyball. You were planning on at least completing your semester before taking time off to care for the baby. It seemed one of you would have to really step up, and from what it seems, it wasn’t going to be Tobio.

When he was home, which was very few and far between with how much he had going on, he had tried to dote on you as much as he could physically muster. Kisses here and there, bathing together, and lots of snuggles.

Kageyama is in charge of the nursery and there’s no room for argument on this. With him not being as present at home, he sets up the nursery as a way to communicate with his child that he’s never going to see because of volleyball

I love Kags, but he is nowhere near ready to even think about parenting 💀 which you tried to be patient with, but with the due date approaching very rapidly, you kinda needed him to step it up.

“I’ve helped.” He tries using the nursery as an argument and he had gone to every doctors appointment but homeboy still doesn’t know how to make a bottle or change a diaper

Was he prepared to have to clean up baby shit and vomit? Absolutely not. Was he going to anyway? Lmao, absolutely not. This boy only wants to be daddy, not dad.

Tsukishima;

It shook everyone and their mother when people found out that Kei not only had a girlfriend that he met in college, but that his girlfriend was a milf according to Kuroo and Bokuto

When you and Kei had first started dating, your daughter was already five. And while you obviously didn’t bring her to classes with you, she was always with the two of you for date nights. Oddly enough, he really didn’t mind.

His patience for kids, now that’s he’s older and kids are actually kids and NOT his peers, rivals that of Sugawara’s.

“Hey Tsukki,” your spawn asks at dinner one day. “When are you and mommy gonna get married? People keep making fun of me cause I call my parents mommy and Tsukki.”

“Making fun of people isn’t cool, it’s so lame. They’re just jealous cause they don’t get to call their parents mommy and Tsukki.”

👁—

That same night, Kei offers to read your daughter to sleep as if to reinforce the notion that mommy and Tsukki was cooler than mommy and daddy. Of course, he was pushing for this to hide that he was upset that children were making fun of her.

After that Tsukishima really gets into his dad role—walking your daughter to school with you or without you everyday, picking her up and giving her grandiose hugs. He made sure to lock eyes with every spectator, his height towering over many at the kindergarten. Silently telling them all “do not fuck with her, or you answer to me.”

He’s sosososo protective, I can’t. He ain’t scared to fight a toddler.

Even well after you and Tsukishima introduce a child of your own, your daughter still insists on calling him Tsukki and adamantly tries to teach her sister to say Tsukki instead of dada.

“You’re okay with the kids not calling you ‘Daddy’, Kei?”

“The only one I want calling me daddy is you.”

Yamaguchi;

This poor bean 💀 not only was he not prepared for fatherhood in the slightest, but twins?!

You both swore up and down they were evil. If one was hungry, the other one would refuse to eat until the other finished their meal. This applied to using their diapers as well.

Imagine the energy of Hinata and Nishinoya as baby twin boys, and lo and behold, yours and Tadashi’s kids.

While you had slightly more patience with them, knowing they were going to grow up eventually and become their own independent humans. Tadashi was not handling this well at all.

Low key, he felt like he was doing a horrible job as a parent and, after the boys had finally gone to sleep for the night, you’d spent a lot of time consoling Tadashi.

“Why can’t I be like—“

“Baby, you’ve got to stop comparing yourself to all of your friends. None of them have twin boys that are less than a year old.”

“Yeah but Hinata has three of them, so does Daichi—“

“Honey, you aren’t them. You’re you, so please, just be you.”

He’s ambitious when it comes to parenting—he wants to be the best dad ever, and he only gets better with practice.

That doesn’t make him wanna tear out his hair any less, but as the boys get older, it does get easier. We pretend their toddler years didn’t exist, it was a nightmare that Tadashi does NOT want to relive

[theodora3022]

Crown Jewel

(noun): a particularly valuable or prized possession or asset.

Pairing: Francis Scott Fitzgerald X fem! former assassin reader

Summary: Having betrayed the Order of the Clock Tower and fled to Japan, you hid your ability and worked at the ADA as a secretary for protection. Life was not as good, but you knew what Lady Christie would do if she discovered a traitor’s whereabouts. You knew someone would dig up your old dirt sooner or later, but why does it have to be this arrogant, awful man? 

Notes: This is really self-indulgent (to satiate my cravings and daddy issues), so read it at your own risk. I am not comfortable with cheating, so Francis is single in this one and never went bankrupt.(But he is still a family man, his wife Zelda passed away before the events in the show) He is an arrogant bastard in canon so you might find his behaviour offensive but that is just how he is. Excuse my pathetic Canadian English, as I cannot write in British English at all. This fic took me too many hours to write, thankfully it is finally done...

Special thanks to my friends for beta reading this long thing, your encouragement and praises are what kept my fragile sanity intact in the process!

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mild bimbofication, mild objectification, coercion, implied dub-con(We all know what happens in marriages right?), Yandere themes

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines.

She was beautiful for the way she thought.

She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved.

She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad.

No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks.

She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.

-F.Scott Fitzgerald

The entire Fitzgerald Estate is finely, thoughtfully decorated, lavish even. Like photographs right out of a luxurious architecture magazine, with marble floors, persian carpets and high raised ceilings. A manor that sits on the top of a little hill, surrounded by trees and flowerbeds. But no matter how beautiful it may be, no one can never feel quite at home in prison. You thought as you lean back on the living room sofa near the patio, slowly dozing off in the afternoon sunlight with a half-read novel on your lap. Maybe you would go for a swim later, you could use a soak before he returns.

It’s easy to forget how much blood is on your hands in peaceful times like these. Ever since he made you dispose of your count book, you can barely remember how many people you had slaughtered.

Your hands were once covered with callouses from hours of training, but now they are as smooth as the velvet curtains. The glow from the big diamond ring on your ring finger irritates you so very often, but he had warned you not to take it off.

“Lady Fitzgerald? Mrs. Smith is here for your fitting session.” It is one of the maids. Ah, is the tailor here already? You put up a smile for the guest and got up, silently cursing your “husband” in the process. Good thing he is at work most of the time, so you can at least enjoy this glamorous life every once in a while without wanting to bury yourself in a bottomless pit.

Another week, another one of those frivolous social events. But you have no choice but to accompany him to every single one of them. While acting as the leader of the Guild, Francis is also the head of the Fitzgerald cooperation, therefore this high society life has always been the norm for him. You, on the other hand, prefer lurking in the shades. All these shimmering lights, noisy parties, fancy dresses and high heels leave you either dazzled or vulnerable. You feel more like his nice accessory, a Christmas bauble than a wife. However, you know your obligations. Be his arm candy, smile, be obedient and not to speak unless spoken to. The alternative of obeying these absurdities is simply unthinkable. Merely the thought can make you feel chills on this warm summer afternoon.

It’s either this or absolute hell. No, that is not an exaggeration.

As an experienced assassin, you had prepared for death since you first signed up for the position. However, no one can bear the Order’s punishments. You know that too well, having witnessed it first-hand countless times.

At least you can live a carefree life with this option. With infuriating restrictions or not, you are still alive and maintain a certain degree of freedom. You should take this compared to an excruciating death any day. Plus you also get to live in extravagance, you cannot hate that for one bit. This rich man has spoiled you to no end, willing to fulfill even your most absurd requests as long as you are his darling wife. Let it be cars, clothes or jewelries, whatever you wish for, Francis would always make sure you got the finest of them.  Not that is ever possible, but you could...get used to this.

However, you utterly despise this title, Lady Fitzgerald? No matter how much he pampers you or showers you with gifts, it would never make up for the fact that you only signed that marriage license under certain conditions. There are those sleepless nights, while you lay under silk quilts in his embrace in some exquisite mansion, you wish you were back in your humble Yokohama flat alone.

---a few months ago

Almost spilling your morning beverage due to running into one of your coworkers at the door, is surely a bad omen, but at the time you did not give it much thought. “Sorry, (y/n)-san. But there is an emergency.” Kirako Haruno?

Work has only just begun, and to your knowledge, there are no major events scheduled for today. Why is she in such a hurry?

Haruno is as terrified as if she just saw a bear in the middle of the street. Strange, since she is usually calm and collected. 

“What has happened? Are you okay?”

“There are foreigners here, they are demanding an audience with the president. (y/n)-san, you can handle them, right? Please, keep them occupied while I notify the president.” Looks like this is your problem now since you speak better English compared to any other in the ADA.

She said it quickly without any pause. Also walked away before you had a chance to refuse, so Haruno missed how the colours suddenly drained from your visage and your horrid expression. 

Oh, dear. Please do not let the foreigners be them… Although not many members of the Order recognizes you as you always don masks even at meetings, you still feel the world may have ended for you, as you wobble out of the office to the reception area with cold sweat. If Haruno had not hurried off, you would have found some excuse to get away from this troublesome situation. You should have called in sick today...

Are they speaking with American accents? Good gracious, you almost had a heart attack over this. You dealt with the Guild before, back when you were still in the Order when you still viewed Lady Christie as your older sister. She used to take you to negotiations meetings. You know how they are, so it should be a cakewalk to keep them occupied for at least a while. But...what if they identify you and report your whereabouts to the Order?! Would they be willing to do Christie this “favour”? The last time you checked, the two organizations were not on exactly friendly terms. So you should be fine as long as you act accordingly. Besides, the agency would not allow foreigners to harm one of their office clerks, precisely why you applied for a job ADA a year-and-a-half ago.

Get your act together, (y/n). Being this panicked is beneath you, everything will be alright as long as you conceal your fears. 

Finishing on your diplomatic front preparation, you greet them with a professional attitude. “Welcome to the Armed Detective Agency, ladies and gentlemen of the Guild.” You try to talk in the calmest tone possible, without stutters. “Now if you would follow me, I shall prepare you some tea. The President will be ready for you shortly.” Now that you have a chance to observe them up close, you had to dig your nails into your palms, pressuring yourself to maintain composure. Why is the leader of the Guild here?! You had seen him before, there is no way you could mistake that arrogant blonde for anyone else. Even though you are pretty confident he would scarcely recognize you without a mask, that tiny possibility feels like a sharp blade pressing against your throat, ready to strike anytime. 

Fitzgerald was not expecting someone who speaks flawless English to receive them. Not someone this cute, too. And here he thought this is just going to be like any other boring business discussion. But he cannot shake off this feeling of how he had seen your enchanting smile somewhere before. It was not easy to leave even a vague impression on the great Francis Scotts Fitzgerald, you must have been someone important. A business partner? A Government Official? Or perhaps a Socialite? You are someone with a high position, that he can be sure. But why would you Oh how he hates having blurry memories of something. As soon as he returns to the Guild base, Francis needs to look into their Database immediately. 

“Earl Grey, imported from England. Would you like some refreshments as well?” Taking out a can of cream biscuits from your desk drawer, you are glad to see the redhead young girl nodding excitedly. You return a genuine smile to her before bending down to fetch the plate. You were not sure if you were just being oversensitive, but you felt a burning gaze on your back when you turned. Your assassin instincts were almost always accurate, could it be that Fitzgerald had remembered something?

“Is there something wrong, Miss? You are sweating so much.” You do appreciate the ginger girl’s kind words, but could she not say it out loud for her boss to hear? You were planning on keeping your panics to yourself. Moving unnoticeable further away from the Guild leader, you gulped nervously. 

“My apologies. I am not feeling well this morning. Now, here’s your biscuits.”

“Aren’t they called cookies? They are truly delicious, thank you so much, Miss. I’m Lucy by the way.”

“In England, we call them biscuits. Would you like some more, Lucy? I have more if you’ll like it.” Her cheerful nature reminds you of a little sister, how could you say no to her pleading eyes. Unfortunately, this also made you forget how you are trying to remain incognito, and you let your hidden past out unintentionally. 

England? That certainly rings a bell for the bright mind of Francis Fitzgerald. And no, he was not eavesdropping. You are talking to his employee, after all. Francis even forgot to scold Lucy about being a demanding guest on cookies because he was so deep in thought, searching for any clue of who you might be. He was about to recall something when you received the president’s notice about the meeting. “The President is ready now, this way please.”

After they entered the office, you realized how you had accidentally exposed yourself while explaining about biscuits. No, now all you can do is pray Fitzgerald was not listening in to that whimsical tea-time conversation. Your stomach suddenly feels queasy, a sign that maybe you should request to go home early. You surely do not want to face those calculating blue eyes again. Heck, you never trembled this badly, not even before the toughest missions. 

He was planning on asking you some questions after that unsuccessful negotiation, but it would seem like you had taken a sick leave early. 

You seem to be rather nervous around him. Suspicious. 

Yet Francis cannot stop thinking about how you cared for Lucy. That consideration, if his little daughter is still around, she is bound to love you… It could just be professional kindness, but Francis had seen enough people to tell what is a facade or not. Zelda was like this too, in fact, it’s this admirable quality that had drawn him in the first place.

The great Fitzgerald had seen so many beautiful women, but your unparalleled warmth and grace outshine all appearances. 

Wait, Francis had finally cleared the fog now. Aren’t you that girl with Agatha Christie, the head knight of the Order of the Clock Tower? No wonder you speak of England. He was so shocked when Christie introduced you as one of her finest knights. You were so friendly and lighthearted, how can you be that notorious master Assassin? It does not matter whether you had a mask on or not, he remembers those lovely (colour) eyes too well. He had found you to be alluring back then, but at that time he was too busy to concern himself with amorous feelings. Going through the guild files, he found that statement from Christie about how you had defected from the Order and a bounty for your whereabouts.

So, you are hiding from your former Organization? That is unfortunate. Francis had heard a word or two about how the Order is feared for its gruesome torture methods, how they still implement the old ways without mercy. You would rather work as a low-wage secretary then continue being one of their most esteemed Knights, something must have gone terribly wrong. 

This is the perfect wager to let you, a kind, independent strong woman, bend to his will. 

Now that he had thought about it, coming back home to a loving wife once again sounds more than wonderful. Having someone by his side forever, to love, to spoil, to have a family with had always been what he wanted. But fate has been cruel to Francis on this matter and had taken them away way too soon. 

This time, he would make sure to do it right. Francis is determined not to let the tragedy repeat itself.

You were surprised by that clearly expensive gift box on your desk the next day you arrived at work. There is a letter attached to it? Your heart dropped when you saw the Guild's emblem embedded on the wax seal. What could they possibly want from you apart from...that?

“Dear Ms(y/n), Sir Francis S FitzGerald would like you to join him for dinner at (location). Please put on the dress in the box attached and be at (location) at seven p.m sharp.” 

What a condescending letter. Not even a polite invitation, just saying he wants you there? You knew how this Fitzgerald is, that arrogant and greedy type, who would value money above conscience. Well, you still got some savings left, if that could shut him up you would not mind emptying your pockets.

You can never let her find you. Suicide before she did is a possible option, but you decided to save that as the last resort.

That is why you decided to put on that dress and go to meet him at this high-end western restaurant. 

The hem of the dress is too short for your likings, but its sublime texture made you presume it costs a fortune. You cannot even recall when was the last time you had don such fine material. Life as a Knight major feels nothing more than a fever dream when Agatha was still your friend, your dear Commander.

What is Fitzgerlad’s intention of giving you such a scandalous dress? Is this some peculiar way to humiliate you? This is why you are better off acting as the blade, never as the tactician. Mind games were never your forte. 

You are wearing that dress as Francis asked, good. He knew you would look gorgeous in it. It’s such a shame you always covered yourself up. Why wear those cheap, conservative trash when you can wear this?

Someone like you needs to be cherished, to be coddled. You do not belong in the shades or some little office.

“Mr. Fitzgerald. How may I help you today?” God, you feel almost naked in this piece of cloth, but you know you had to grin and bear it as he has the upper hand for now. “If this is about that business permit, I am not the one to make decisions.”

“Why, you are not going to thank me for the dress? You look absolutely breathtaking if you are wondering.” Crap, he is wearing a suit of a matching colour. Has he done this on purpose?

You blush a bit at Francis’s generous compliment, but you did not foreget why you are here.

“Please, do sit. And call me Francis, Miss.” Pulling the chair out for you, Francis smiled politely before signalling the waiters to bring out the appetizers. He is acting way too nice if all he wants is blackmailing you. You were expecting a simple, cold business trade, not...whatever this can be called.

“So, how is Lady Christie doing?” You put down the wine glass, sensing his malicious intent and narrowing your eyes. Of course, he knows, you should have expected this much from the leader of the Guild and an accomplished businessman. Lady Christie must have sent out wanted advertisements, too. 

“If you know this much then you must know I am not a part of the Order anymore.” Just name the price already, then you can both go back to your respective businesses and forget your paths ever crossed.

Clever one, although Francis would expect anything less from someone like you. Not just anyone could be the Knight major of that Order after all. You sighed with frustration, clearly wanting to get this over with. “How much do you need? I still have a decent sum in my bank account.” It would probably be a large price, coming from this greedy man, but you are willing to pay for it as long as he stays silent.

You, trying to bribe him? How adorable. You must have been incredibly oblivious to not notice his intentions. Yes, normally a good check would silence Francis, but can’t you see he is not after your money here?

Instead of taking the pen, Francis shoved his smartphone in front of your face. 

You turn paler when you figure out the contents. It was an email draft, a draft intended for your former Commander. It tells how the Guild is doing her a big favour by returning her astray Knight major to her proper place. Did he type out an email already? You can already feel those cold dungeon bars on your skin. 

“Is money not enough? What exactly do you need?” Calm down, (y/n). If Francis did not send that email, it means negotiation is still possible. Just give him what he needs and be done with it. 

To your shock, the blonde smiled smugly and said: “I want you to join the Guild.”

Join the Guild? “As an assassin?” Of course, he is after your ability. It was what made you a high ranking knight, no wonder he would want that for his organization. 

“Not exactly. You see, I’m looking for a...personal bodyguard.” Hm, Francis is fond of the word “personal” in this context, it makes him feel like you are one of his possessions already.

“If you have any knowledge about my ability at all, you should know I am no good for frontal combat. With your status, fitting individuals would come running.” Is he toying with you? How despicable. Only a dastard would toy with someone’s mind, especially someone desperate.

Carefully taking your hand into his, feeling your soft skin and those light calluses on your fingers, Francis knows he has to do this the blunt way. You are such a fool when it comes to romantic relationships. 

“Be my wife, you don’t need to worry about being discovered ever again. Christie cannot touch you as long as you are by my side. You can have whatever you want, just say the word. ”

This has to be a hallucination. Be his...wife? “Mr. Fitzgerald, have you got hit on the head earlier?” Feeling his forehead with the back of your hand: “You do not seem to have a fever. Are you feeling unwell?” Is he out of his mind? You, his wife? You are a dangerous assassin with a high headcount, not exactly wife material. No one sane wishes to be involved with you romantically, or so you thought.

He was not expecting such an eccentric reaction. Most women would be over the moon with the mere thought of becoming his mistress, not to mention an actual wife. Francis knows you are different, but this is out of his wildest predictions. 

You are even harder to predict than the stock market of New York.

“This is a serious offer, love. Do you take my words as some jester’s joke?” He is not joking? Oh dear, you don’t want to marry this man. He did not even properly court you? And it is not like he is giving you a real choice either.

“What, are you going to refuse? That is fine, surely this email could bring a smile to Christie's face.” “No, please don’t send that email!”The way your pupils shrink suddenly gives him heartaches, but this is the necessary measure to make sure you are compliant. Francis had promised to spoil you, but sadly this is not a matter he can compromise with. He could make it up with gifts and attention later right? This life in exile is not fitting for a lady like you, so why don’t you let him take care of you? Don’t you understand what could happen to you had he not intervened?

That trembling little nod is all Francis needs for confirmation. As he brings your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss, he swore silently to himself how he would never repeat his previous mistakes.

“Now, let us go ring shopping. Pick the biggest diamond one if you like, but make sure to select it out with a matching one.”

----Back to present

After the fitting appointment, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with some confectionary practices. You remember well how Francis’s face would lit up like a Christmas tree if he comes home to the smell of your bakings. It disgusts you how much he loves your docile mask, how you are his perfect housewife, his Mrs. Fitzgerald. This bastard do take pleasure in others pain.

Still, you must keep your “husband” happy. Humming your favourite melody in a pink apron, you try to imagine you are just doing this for only your own amusement, in your own house to make this more bearable. 

Baking is one of the many hobbies you picked up after becoming Lady Fitzgerald. You could not work, neither as an assassin nor a secretary, as he is concerned about your “safety”: “Why should my lovely wife trouble herself with those headaches? You should spend your day doing whatever interests you, like painting or knitting! Tell me anytime if you need tutors.” Then Francis gave your head a few pats as if you are some cute puppy? You can never count how many screws he got loose.

What interests you? Well, stabbing Francis in his sleep could hardly count as a suitable hobby. Guess you’ll have to think of other ways to utilize those kitchen knives.  Since he forbids you to train with weapons, you are stuck with those pathetic feminine leisure activities. 

Placing the tray onto the preheated oven rack, you were cleaning up the mess from the process when two strong arms abruptly wrapped around your waist from behind. You knew exactly who it is since you had sensed his presence when he first set a foot into this ridiculously large kitchen. You also had to take deep breaths, reminding yourself why you shouldn’t just aim your fists at Francis’s nose then and there. These past few months with him had raised your resilience to an incredible level, you could tolerate his demanding physical affections without the urge to jump off a cliff now. 

Curling your lips upwards, you push yourself to leave a light peck on the tall blonde man’s left cheek. That is mandatory, you had learned that on the first day here. “You’re home early.” The way you say those words is so sweet, even sweeter than those sugary treats in the oven. Even though you have to be careful, not letting the venom underneath slip out.

This is what Francis S. Fitzgerald longs to come home to, the love of his life after a day of gruelling meetings and other work. Once a renowned assassin, a second-in-command Knight in a Prestigious Royal Order, but now you are just his little housewife. He could never find a shinier trophy to demonstrate his power and influence. The haughty Blonde knows you have not entirely given up on the idea of escaping, still holding a grudge towards him, time will tell whether you accept your place or not. But that does not matter now, right now the Guild leader just wants to watch some brainless tv show on the sofa, with you on his lap to unwind, some Bordeaux would be nice too. He could handle all those business meetings if that means holding you to sleep every night. The sight of your smile makes it all worth it. 

You belong to him now, his most prized possession, the crown jewel of Francis Fitzgerald’s collection.

And you have no say in the matter as long as you wish to stay in the land of the living.

It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving,

But like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.

-F.Scott Fitzgerald

(Hey! Thank you for reading! Commetns and reblogs would be greately appreciated!)

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Four

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note ::  you should also check out my ao3 and wattpad my username is LEVIATTACKS on both platforms. ao3 usually gets to see my updates first, feel free to leave any comments you have i appreciate all feedback ^___^ → next part is here!!

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

He rises from the bed making you jolt, if he's moving towards his dagger everything will be over in a matter of seconds. The tension between the two of you is foggy and uncertain.

Your line of vision is cloudy, bleary tears seize it. You should have tried harder whilst researching, found a way to make Lev stay, it hits you like a sack of bricks - you didn't try hard enough, was that the issue, was that the mistake you made this time? Mind full of harsh expletives you continue to curse yourself. Of course he left, of course he fucking did. Your life was one large cyclical narrative of earning the love of others and ultimately losing it along the way some how.

The world conditioned you to become independent, to not rely on others for affection, earn what you must on your own. Making your own way through life is all you know yet here you are. On the verge of tears because this damn fool won't remember you. Happiness is a privilege.

Staring into the distance you don't see the way your husband's glare thins out, neither do you notice how he leans forward invading your personal space.

"Care to explain how we got into this situation?" Breath fanning across your face exactly the same way it had months ago you gulp and realise he's staring at your lacy nightgown in sheer distaste. Oh no, He's got the wrong idea completely.

You jerk your head up to explain and only then is the close proximity between the two of you evident, you nearly knock your head against his as if you're inebriated. "No, no. We've never done that. I promise we haven't. I wouldn't take advantage of you." You're sputtering and are all over the place trying to hold some sort of ground in this conversation.

"I see that you saw no issue with taking advantage of me in other ways. You scheming money hungry roach."

You want to clear your name and tell him you really haven't touched any of his money. None of it at all to the point it's shameful to admit, especially considering the fact that everyone else sees you as Duchess Ackerman.

"I have not spent any of your money I swe-".

A deafening bang resounds through the room - in his fit of rage he kicks one of the solid oak drawers at the side of your bed to the floor.

A squeaky gasp falls out of your mouth and you flinch away as you cover your chest defensively. Your arms aren't the best armour but they work for now. If he's to stab you your worst fear is him piercing through your heart. What you fear most is him ripping the vital organ out of the confines of your chest. If he laughs hysterically and watches it bleed out you'll never forgive him. Your worries and doubts are internally eating away at you as you witness the darkness seeping into the corners of his vision.

It's quiet and dark and with him as well as a heavy silence looming over you, the pressure on your shoulders is quite literally immense.

He takes a hold of your chin and obnoxiously squishes your rosy cheeks together, dark tundra eyes never falter from yours, that is until they abruptly sink south and he catches drift of the way your night gown has ridden up. Thighs on full display you want to pull the edges of the material down but are too afraid to move under his deathly stare.

"Do you know how long I was stuck inside of my own body? Having to act like a fool on the daily."

"What?" You shakily reply through parted lips.

He was able to see everything he did under the spell? This changes the dynamic significantly. Cheeks flaring up in embarrassment you recall how you ate up all the sweet nothings he whispered into your ears, the scarlet blush creeps to the back of your ears when you think back to how you fervently kissed him goodbye whenever he was sent to venture outside the walls. The sanguine tint only intensifies when you think about the night where you accidentally let his bare hands venture a little too far.

"Naive little thing," he grunts. "You will never be my wife." He scowls sniffing at you in pure repulsion.

Whiskey, cigarette fumes and strong sweat infused cologne revoltingly is what you're reminded of when you hear those words leave his mouth. The stench isn't present but nevertheless you feel your throat constrict, never expecting to see any sort of parallel form between Levi and that man. The one time you stood your ground against Father it led to you being dragged away from the palace grounds, beat until you were unresponsive and left for dead. He left you there with the intention of extermination, his final words as he bid you goodbye that night had been - "You will never be my daughter."

You have no words left to offer, you're tongue tied. Expressionless whilst he gauges your reaction, the both of you don't register how Levi's grip on your cheeks loosens, that is until the look in his hooded eyes changes. They're inky now smoldering with resentment, he lets go of the hold he has on your face completely.

The separation between your face and his palm is stony.

All you want at that moment is for Lev to come back and wake you up from all of this. You've had enough of this sick and twisted nightmare where he doesn't look at you the way he normally does. The way he manhandles you irks you and lights a dangerous fire in your stomach.

Blinking your tears away you finally speak after your long silence "I know that My Lord." taking what may be one of your final breaths you announce the unthinkable "Feel free to finish what you were unable to last time."

"No begging?" he chastises you pulling you by the back of your ear.

"Would you spare me if I did?" The close ended question you respond with leaves him stiff.

Snatching your forearm you note that even when he's not under the constraint of the spell physical touch is consistently one of his ways of getting a point across. He jerks your tired form forward. "Who do you work for?"

Blood running cold you know he won't kill you now. He thinks you've come here with a purpose, a motive, a reason. Hell, all you did was ask to be loved, to experience something before the candle which was your life burnt out.

"No one. You said you were conscious in your mind whilst it all happened, correct?"

He nods albeit begrudgingly.

"Then you must have seen how I tried."

His right eyebrow cocks upwards ever so slightly. "Tried?"

Now it's your turn to be frustrated. "Tried to keep my distance, tried to ignore your advances, tried to refuse your gifts, tried to maintain a level of respect so the both of us would have some dignity remaining if you were to return some day. When I realised you would not stop with your persistence I accepted." You fumed - the fretful irritation you feel only increases by the second.

"Cut the crap." He snarls at you.

You want to snarl back with just as much impatience but you bite your tongue.

Maybe it's because it's late at night, maybe it's because you're fatigued or maybe it's because you already felt feverish and emotional - Honestly, any other reason apart from your husband turning his back on you and announcing you're a mongrel. Feeling light headed you clutch at your scalp harshly trying to control yourself, even Levi's firm hand which until recently held your left arm recoils away.

Falling to your knees you feel the way the floor grates against your bare legs. Your urge to pass out is nearly met but then you hear him.

"Honey???" The concern in his voice which had made you fall in love with him now repulses you.

Fists balling at your knees you silently sob, pitifully shaking your head.

This can't be your reality.

It can't be.

You won't let it be.

That night you find out nightmares can happen in real life.

Levi Ackerman being a prime example.

After the bitter encounter you leave the room and order Lev to not come after you, you need your own space and as much as you want him to return to his sweet, loving self it's pathetic to seek any comfort in him. That tyrant is bound to make another appearance soon enough and mock you for falling into his trap again, but really can you blame the man? Is this his fault or your own?

Whoever is at fault there will still come a time where the Levi you love won't come back and call you his Love. You'll have to get used to that bleak desolate reality. Assuming he doesn't kill you before you have to.

Day has now broken and the brisk morning air bites at you, scantily clad in your nightgown, It's abnormal, you think to yourself. The position you're in is one you imagined countless times but you never really thought you'd end up this way. You're about to drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the Estate's field of hydrangeas, too tired to actually care anymore when you hear a rustle from one of the surrounding bushes.

"Duchess?" Your head turns when you hear Mikasa's soft voice emerge from the hedges, she steps through them and you both stare at each other. Mouth open, gaping in shock she takes in your appearance. You can only imagine how you look right now. Dark eye bags, you aren't wearing your usual noble attire not to mention Levi has accidentally left a bruise on one of your arms. It's faint because it is accidental (you hope) it does not go unnoticed by Mikasa.

Her gaze hardens and she approaches your disheveled form kneeling in front of you.

"What happened?" She whispers, the panic is evident in her voice and you awkwardly chuckle in response.

"I had a horrible nightmare. That's all, honest."

"And it's Y/N need I remind you again?" Mikasa is big on respect and sure, it is cute but you want to remind her it really is okay to call you by your first name. After all you would consider her a friend, you hope she sees you the same way.

Giving you a look of disbelief she takes the hint that you don't want to talk about it but much to your delight she does take the advice regarding your name. She sounds hesitant but that's how she usually is, she'll get used to it in no time at all.

"Well...Y/N, Breakfast has been prepared." You can see the way she eyes your unkempt hair and shivering form. "Would you like to eat with me and Sasha?" this is her way of comforting you.

Your lips quirk up into a smile for the first time in a while.

"I would love that."

Twenty minutes and a change of clothes later you've all relocated to your tea room, Sasha doesn't ask questions about your hair or odd choice of clothing earlier this morning. The shadows Levi's fingers left on your arm are now carefully hidden by the sleeves of your baby blue dress. "Oh! Viscount Kirstein me and Y/N saw him yesterday. He's just like the rumours." Sasha exclaims as she stuffs her face with a croissant.

Mikasa takes a short sip from her tea cup. "And the rumours would be?"

You pick a cinnamon roll from the center of the table."Undeniably handsome. I mean he's not my type though."

Sasha looks momentarily confused. "He was drop dead gorgeous what do you mean?"

You laugh a bit at the disbelief on her face, Mikasa chooses to not intervene - she's obviously yet to come to her own conclusions about him.

"Yeah but you said it yourself he fucks anything in a skirt." Sasha, is wide eyed at first and chokes on part of her buttered croissant, you have never been so vulgar before. You guess the argument has left you more likely to voice your reckless thoughts. Snorting you try to keep your laugh in, the ghost of a smile makes its way to Mikasa's face and eventually she too dissolves into a puddle of laughter. The three of you laughing together genuinely eases the recent burden on your soul.

Just as you're about to crack another joke the door to your tea room rumbles.

BANG!  You seem to always be cut off when you're here because Eren Jaeger has burst inside perhaps for the seventh time this month. It's the same routine as usual, he's panting and catching his breathe before he speaks. You're in no mood to hear what he has to say.

"If the Duke has sent you please leave."

Mikasa gives him a "You better not ask any questions and take the damn hint" kind of look but bless Eren for he is completely and utterly clueless.

"It's urgent."

"Still rejecting." You hotly reply.

Mikasa icily interjects "Eren, would you stop being so bothersome?"

He looks between you and Mikasa helplessly. "The Duke says he expects your refusal but I can't return empty handed, I'll be given a punishment and it'll be worse than being made to clean the stables." He gives you a pleading look and he's so much younger than you, it makes you feel like he's your responsibility. Eren has a charming way of making himself feel like everyone else's annoying younger brother. You accept that he can't suffer because of your selfish denial.

Sighing deeply you take a final bite of your roll, if you're going to die you may as well do so on a full stomach. Before you depart you awkwardly get to your feet dusting your dress to buy some time as you bid Mikasa and Sasha goodbye.

You're now following Eren through the halls of the estate. Deep down inside, you know you aren't fearful. He won't kill you, not yet at least, he thinks you're a useful source of information relating to his external enemies, he would be stupid to overlook that detail. You'll exploit it for now, your key is survival, it always has and always will be that way.

Bumping into Eren's back you apologize for being absent minded, you swear the walk to Levi's office has always been much longer. He spares you a worried glance and looks as if he's about to offer you words of support but he stops himself before he opens the heavy door to Duke Ackerman's office. Perhaps he doesn't find it appropriate. Good, you think to yourself. You don't wish to hear motivation from anyone right now, it's nothing personal, it's that nothing can possibly be of motivation right now.

The door opens ever so slowly, your brain races making everything move at a sedated pace. Then you find yourself jolting upright in surprise. You soon realise expecting Levi to be the only person there was naive on your part. Eyes tensely land on the blonde in one of the cushioned caramel chairs. It's the Commander of the Empire's entire battalion — Erwin Smith.

Levi has ratted you out for sure, you spare a glance towards him and see the way he's trying to hide his feelings of amusement. You want to lunge over his desk and wipe that smug smirk off his face. The playful lilt in his usual unreadable expression is driving you mad. Next to Erwin is respected and high ranking Squad Leader Hange Zoe, you're quite well accustomed with them you've exchanged your fair share of words together and Hange has never failed to bring a smile to your face. The amusing air around them lights up any room they're in... Apart from this one that is.

Eren closes the door behind you and you're silent not really knowing what to do.

"Take a seat my beloved." Levi drawls. This isn't Lev you know that much, he's always enthusiastically jumping to his feet when he greets you.

Awkwardly sitting in the chair next to your husband you shake Hange's hand first then move to shake Erwin's. His warm palms envelope yours and he places a hand on your left shoulder. It's not at all similar to the way Levi held you earlier in the morning, the feeling is genuine. He has no ill intentions, all he seems to want to do is open a conversation.

"Y/N, we may not have much time but." He stops, unsure if it's for dramatics but you still intently listen.

The sea that is his blue eyes draws you in, you've only ever seen him from afar. If honesty and gentleness were a person it would be him no doubt about it.

He pats your shoulder and you snap out of your day dream. "Y/N. Thank you for your sacrifice and commitment to this Empire." His warm yet serious smile which follows simply confuses you, in fact this entire situation is doing that.

Jaw slacking you're dazed and bewildered, your thoughts are diverting in all sorts of direction now.

Whatever does he mean by sacrifice?

[likeiwishiknew]

Azriel x Gwyn - The Beginning

Read on AO3

The air was unnaturally cold. 

So cold that Gwyn could see her breath. She stood in the middle of the library, all of the lights turned down, in nothing but her nightdress. 

Not another soul was awake, at least none that she could sense. Gwyn couldn’t recall when or how she’d made her way down here. Nor did she remember why. She suspected she was on one of the lower floors from what she could make out. However, it was too dark for her to be certain which one.

A chill ran up her spine, and she could not escape the uneasy feeling that something or someone was watching her. Turning in place, she checked all sides. But she did not see anything out of the ordinary.  Still, her heartbeat picked up just as a cool wind breezed past her carrying the sound of a faraway voice. 

Find the book and bring it to me. It cooed. 

Gwyn spun in the direction of the voice, only to once again find nothing there. 

She waited for the voice to speak up again. But didn’t. Yet the feeling that she was being watched did not go away. Gwyn focused for a moment on its words. The voice had mentioned a book. There was only one book it could possibly be talking about, but that thought left her with far more questions than answers.

Who did the voice belong to? And why were they, or it, searching for the book?

Rhysand had made it clear to her that there might be great repercussions should the book fall into the wrong hands. The sense of foreboding she felt from the haunting voice had her more than inclined to believe him. Which left her all the more determined to do anything and everything she could to ensure that did not happen.

Gwyn turned back around only to catch sight of a faceless figure, its sharp teeth inches from her face. Her stomach dropped.

She tried to shout but discovered that she could not find her voice. A wave of terror rushed over her at the realization. And when Gwyn tried to shift away, she found she could not move. Icy dread crept into her veins. It was what she feared most. 

Helplessness. 

She was helpless.

She turned back around only to catch sight of a faceless figure, its sharp teeth inches from her face. Her stomach dropped. 

Gwyn tried to shout but discovered that she could not find her voice. A wave of terror rushed over her at the realization. And when she tried to shift away, she found she could not move. She was helpless. Icy dread crept into her veins.

The monster reached for her face, hands like claws, the second it touched her she jolted awake. 

Bolting up from her bed, sweat dripped down her brow, leaving her skin cold and damp. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her throat felt so tight it was a wonder she was breathing, as her heart all but beat out of her chest.

The remnants of her dream began to fade until only the fear remained. 

When she tried to recall the finer details of the dream her mind came back blank. Which had her fighting to remember, but no matter how she struggled the memory wouldn't return. 

Gwyn let out a sigh. Taking a deep breath, she calmed her breathing. Her heart rate slowly followed. 

She fell back onto her bed in a heap, confused and concerned, wondering if she closed eyes she might fall back into whatever nightmare had done this to her. 

Gywn turned her head to stare at the blank wall beside her bed. 

This was going to be a long night.

- - - 

It had been well over a week since he’d last seen or spoken to Gwyn. Nesta told him that Gwyn had a lot of work to catch up on in the library, thus her absence at morning training. 

And while that might’ve been partly true, he knew that wasn’t entirely the case. Gwyn was also avoiding him. Because of his conversation with Elain. 

His shadows should have warned him of her approach, and yet they hadn’t. Though the truth was they often did the strangest things around Gwyn. They reacted to her in ways that they never did anyone else. 

If she’d overheard his and Elain’s conversation. It stood to reason she might’ve thought he was admitting to still having feelings for Elain. But that wasn’t the case at all. He’d tried to find her countless times to explain as much to her, but every time he had gone to the library Clotho had told him Gwyn was too busy to see him.

Today was the first day he’d laid eyes on her since that night. 

He watched silently from across the ring as Gwyn practiced aiming her fire with Lucien. This was now the second time the male had come to see her. Azriel had been absent during the first visit due to a last-minute assignment from Rhys.

 But apparently, according to Cassian, the first lesson has been remarkably successful.

Lucien had managed to teach Gwyn how to call upon her fire. 

Azriel watched engrossed in her effort, sending her his quiet encouragement and support. Her eyes were bright and focused as she honed in a target across the ways from her. Her hands alight with fire. 

He watched her chest rise as she took in a deep breath and aimed, shooting her fire across the way. In a fury, the flames propelled forward toward their intended target - hitting them dead in the center.

Azriel saw her face go from serious to delighted. A small smile formed on his own lips at her feat. Gwyn jumped up and down in place. In her excitement, she ran straight into Lucien’s arms. With little hesitation, Lucien hugged in her turn, spinning her in a circle. A look of contented happiness on both of their faces.

Azriel could not remember a time he’d ever seen the other male so happy. Not even in the presence of his own mate.

The ease with which they embraced had him thinking it wasn’t the first time they’d done such a thing. 

And he loathed the very thought.  A part of him wanted to march over pull them apart. But he thought better of it. 

He called out to his brother instead.

“Rhys, I need you to call Lucien away.”

It took a beat, but his brother responded shortly thereafter. 

“Why is that?”

He had no time to explain. 

“Please just do it,” he shot back. 

Rhys was silent for a moment, and Azriel worried his brother would deny him this. Thankfully, his concern proved unwarranted.  

“Fine,” Rhys returned. 

He turned back to the duo just in time to see Lucien set Gwyn back into the ground. Azriel watched Lucien’s expression and posture stiffen, at which point he knew that Rhys had done as he asked.

He overheard Lucien informed Gwyn of as much.

“I must go,” the male told her. 

“Why?” she asked with a touch of concern.

“It would seem your High Lord wishes to speak with me.” 

Azriel saw Gwyn grow still and he got the feeling she knew exactly what he’d done.

But she did not comment on it, instead, she only nodded, “Alright,” she acknowledged. 

Lucien, not knowing her as Azriel did, didn’t pick up on the tiny shift in her tone. 

“I’m proud of you Little Red,” he said, rubbing the top of her head affectionately.

Gwyn smiled up at him, “Thank you.”

Lucien’s gaze went to him briefly. The other male’s eyes narrowed on Azriel. But he said nothing, simply headed straight for the stairs.

Azriel watched him go.

When he turned back to Gwyn he found her eyes set upon him. She started toward him and he opted to meet her halfway.

“Why did you have Rhysand call Lucien away?”

He stilled for a moment. It had been days since they’d last spoken and yet her first words to him were regarding Lucien.

Had she even missed him?

Was he only setting himself up for another heartbreak?

“That’s all you have to say?” he returned, voice coming out colder than he intended.

His tone clearly caught her off guard because she appeared less irritated and more concerned.

“Are you upset with me?” she questioned, sounding genuinely perplexed. He most certainly was upset. Though he wasn’t sure if he was upset with her or himself. 

“You ran to him,” he managed to say.

Gwyn’s brows inched together in confusion.

“With a look of pure joy on your face you ran into his arms,” Azriel continued. 

From the look on her face, she still did not quite understand. 

"Anyone looking in would think you loved him,” he finished. 

“I do love him,” she replied with little to no hesitation.

He felt something lodge in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

“I know we’ve not known each other long but I feel a connection to him. He’s like family to me,” she defended, “Like Nesta and Emerie and you.” 

“I don’t want to mean the same thing to you that he does.” 

She took a step closer to him. 

“Then what do you want to be?”

He froze. 

And Gwyn all but sighed, “See you can’t answer. Because you don’t know what you want.” 

She moved to pass him. 

Unthinking, Azriel’s hand darted out and grabbed hold of hers. 

He spun her around and cupped her face, bringing their lips close. But he paused, leaving himself just enough room to meet her eyes - to seek permission. Gwyn stared back for a second before giving him a firm nod.

It was all he needed. Azriel brushed his lips over hers, gently at first. Only once Gwyn leaned into him, her warm hand upon his chest, did he deepen the kiss. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her in. He could get used to this, the feel of her warm body pressed to his.

Kissing her...it felt like breathing, essential to his survival. 

Still, he managed to pull back before he got carried away. 

Azriel didn’t wish to rush things between them. He would take his time with her, savoring every moment, every touch.

Meeting her eyes again, he stroked her cheek thoughtfully.

The truth was that he’d known for quite some time what he wanted, he simply never dared to imagine he could have it. Only now did he realize that if he didn’t try, he’d never know. And so, he took a leap of faith.

“I want you Gwyn,” he confessed, staring into her blue-green eyes that seemed to glow as they looked upon him, “And I hope you want me too.”

She placed her hand over his.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, “Are you sure I’m truly the one you want?”

He hated that she doubted it for a second. But he would tell her as many times as she needed to hear it. He would work every day to prove it to her.

“Yes,” Azriel re-affirmed, “It’s you I want Gwyn.”

He touched his forehead to hers. 

“I know I haven’t done enough to make that clear, to reassure you. But it’s true. And I promise to do better. I promise I will show you that I mean everything I say. We can take things at your pace. I will follow your lead without question."

Studying her face, he found she still looked a measure unsure.

“If what you heard in that garden weeks ago is the reason for your uncertainty then allow me to tell you that was a misunderstanding.”

He would not lie, would not sugar coat it, Gwyn deserved the truth. All of it. 

"At one time I did want Elain as a mate.”

Gwyn took a step back, dropping her hand and pulling it away. But Azriel managed to catch hold of it. And he held onto it for dear life.

“I saw how happy my brothers were. Rhys and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. You’ve seen them. They’re perfect for each of her,” he remarked. 

By some kindness, Gwyn allowed him to keep hold of her hand. He stroked that back of it with his thumb. 

“I wanted what they have. And for whatever reason, I believed that Elain could give that to me. I thought that after everything I’d endured through the centuries, I deserved that sort of happiness.”

Gwyn’s expression softened a touch at the barest mention of his past.

“But that was wrong of me. To think that I could replicate their happiness. To put all those expectations and hopes onto Elain simply because she was there. Three brothers and three sisters,” he paused on that thought, recalling how he’d felt about that in the past, “It all seemed so perfect. So long as I ignored the glaringly obvious issue.”

“Lucien,” she breathed.

He nodded. 

“I pretended as though he didn’t exist, convinced myself he wasn’t worthy of Elain. It made it easier to convince myself that the cauldron had made a mistake. But I know now that my feelings for Elain were misconstrued. I didn’t love her. I loved the idea of her, of what believed she could be for me.”

Gwyn seemed to take a deep breath, digesting everything he’d said. 

If he were being honest, Azriel was quite certain he’d never spoken so much in his entire life. 

“And what do you feel for me?” she questioned. 

This was where it got tricky.

“I...I care about you, so much. When you’re not within my sight I find myself looking for you. I miss you whenever I’m away or when you’re gone. I think about you often, more than I probably should," he admitted, "I’m always wondering what you’re doing and if you’re thinking of me too. And I’ve dreamed of kissing you for far too long. And now that I have I hope you’ll let me do it again.”

Her eyes were rimed with unshed tears. He took her face in his hands, gently cupping her cheeks, not caring that he hardly deserved to touch her. 

“Please tell what you’re thinking,” he nearly pleaded.

The sound that escaped her was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. 

“I’m thinking this crazy,” she said at last.

He waited for her to continue.

“I’ve been having these confusing feelings for what must be months now, unsure what was wrong with me. Every time I thought I had it figured out something would happen that made me doubt it all. My thoughts. My feelings. You.” 

He swallowed. And once again, he saw the doubt in her eyes. The sight of it broke his heart. 

“I don’t - I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know what it means to be in a relationship. If that’s even what this is. If that’s even what you’re asking me,” Gwyn confessed.

“It is,” he confirmed for her. 

Gwyn’s eyes held his.

"You’re not the only one who’s unsure about how we go about this, Gwyn. As sure as I am about you, I’ve never done this before either. I’ve had lovers before, but I’ve never been in a truly committed relationship. With my past lovers, we took what we wanted from each other, and once either one wanted out we walked away."

But it would be different with Gwyn.

If this didn’t work out he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away unscathed, and he loathed the very idea of this thing between them ever ending. 

“But I still want to give this, us, a try. I want to try to be someone worthy of you."

Her brow furrowed, “I’m nothing special, Azriel.”

He let his hand slide down to the back of her neck, gripping it firmly, “That’s where you’re wrong, Gwyn. You’re special, especially to me.”

She reached out her hand and cupped his cheek, her eyes warm, “You’re special to me too,” she spoke in answer.

“Is that a yes?” he asked hopefully.

She cracked a brilliant smile and nodded, “Yes.” 

Azriel found himself smiling back. He wasn’t sure what came over him but he pulled her into a tight embrace, lifting her feet straight off the ground before holding her up above him. Gwyn grinned down at him, the bright, silky strands of her hair tickling his face, and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss her again.

And so, because she'd said yes, he did. 

~ ~ ~

Author Note: I'm a firm believer that the key to a successful relationship is honesty and communication. So that was the focus of this chapter. I've had these two dancing around each other for a while and it felt high time they behave like reasonable adults and talk about their feelings. You will note, this is not quite a love confession. I do not think we're there yet. But we will get there. We shall definitely get there, and it shall be steamy ;)

Anyways, this chapter was a pleasure to write so I hope you all enjoy it as well. And if you do, please do let me know in the comments!

~ ~ ~

@azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @bittermuire @ofstarsanddreams @corrdolium @toolazymyguy @inkdrinkershadowsinger @itswrongsong @dealingdifferentdevils @rhysmoira @brucexselina @inejjg @rhysmoira @gwynnight @fairytamy @bluegold08 @amandapearls @highqueentaey @lioness-says @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens​ @princessofmerchants-reads @cantkeepmyeyesoffofyou-x

@my-fan-side @spookylightkidranch @elucienschild @keramzinskies @itswrongsong @mirubyjane

@lovelywordsandwine @ladygwynriel @parisakamali @mirubyai

[jd-loves-fiction]

➤ 【1】 𝟤 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇, 𝟥 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎

➤ Finding 1 guy seemed unthinkable as you found yourself getting lost while going to meet with your friend. So imagine your surprise when you meet 2.

➤ pairings: suna x reader | hirugami x reader

➤ genre: college!au; fluff; angst

➤ wc: 4.7k

➤ status: ongoing

➤ 🌙 Special thanks to @offendedfishnoises​ and @glorified-red​ for all the love and help🥰🥺 and if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ❤

"Just follow the directions and you'll get there, don't worry." Was what your friend had told you a few days before Christmas break in order to help you find the place you were meant to meet at.

Which you had been looking for, for about 30 minutes more than what she said would be necessary.

You were lost.

And to add to the misery, your phone had no reception, meaning you had no way to figure out where you had wandered off to as the cold winter air licked at your flushed cheeks, growing more frigid by the minute as you continued to walk forward.

Days before, when you noticed you had a week off from classes due to Christmas arriving, you had quickly made plans with a friend of yours: to go out and find you a hot date. This as you were both tired of your complaining.

You had already attempted this on the last day of college at a park near it, to no avail as no one of interest had shown up (aside from some friends of yours).

This time you were meant to meet her at a cafe she was very familiar with and a bit far from your house, but she assured you that lots of your type of people hung out there and that it was easy to get to.

The second part was either a lie or your mental map was just that bad.

Despite the fact that the sun should still be high in the sky - were it not being hidden by gloomy clouds - by the mid-afternoon hour, the temperature was nearly unbearable, the icy cold swiftly getting under your clothes and chilling you to the bone as you contemplated calling your friend and explaining your predicament to her.

You looked around the street you found yourself in the middle of, checking for some place where you could protect yourself from the unforgiving winter air as you attempted to message your friend without having your fingers fall off.

You spotted a small cafe in between a drugstore and a shoe store, with a large glass front that allowed you to see all the wooden tables inside, behind a pub table settled against the window, where potted plants sat.

The soft, golden light shining on the plants created an invitation, hard to ignore. Pushing open the door, the low hum of friendly chatter followed by the deep aroma of coffee met your nose and the sight of various homemade pastries warmed you instantly as you rubbed your hands together.

The space was scarcely crowded, expected from the side of town you assumed to have wandered into, but the atmosphere seemed warm and just full enough that it felt lively but not overwhelming.

You ordered your chosen beverage and sat at a table near the wall with it as you inspected the shop. Most of its occupants were teenagers and young adults, either chatting amongst themselves or typing away on their laptops while sipping coffee or eating various kinds of delicious looking pastries.

The walls were a light beige, contrasting with the dark furniture and a large wall with a painting of two birds atop a tree branch caught your eye, until you remembered what you had gone there to do: check-in with your friend and figure out where you were.

You took out your phone while looking at the sign on the wall with the WiFi password and waiting for it to connect as you looked around once more.

Your eyes skimmed over mostly natural or brightly colored hair, floating over simple waves and more intricate hairdos just before your eyes drifted down and caught a pair of big, brown ones who seemed to study you with a sweet sort of intensity, almost as if in awe. That made you blush, and not from the cold this time. Just before you looked away and tried to find something to keep you busy as your phone lay somewhat forgotten by your arm, facedown on the table.

The image of the handsome man whom you'd locked gazes with remained at the forefront of your mind as you took out your most recent fixation, a book of theories about soulmates, to avoid looking anymore out of place and awkward. He might've been smiling, or it could've just been your hopeful imagination. You decided not to dwell on it lest you fool yourself with hopelessly romantic deceptions.

You had come out to find a date. But not without your friend's help!

That would certainly end in disaster.

The words before you sucked you in, capturing your attention enough that your previous worries were all but an itch in the back of your mind as your cheeks finally cooled.

A notification reaching your phone broke your focus, making you pick it up to see a message from your friend, from about 10 minutes prior, saying that she couldn't make it due to a family emergency.

Well, at least you didn't leave her hanging.

Sighing, you placed your phone in your pocket, taking another sip of your drink and returning to your book.

Just before a shadow settled over you.

"Do you believe in them?" A voice asked, calm and smooth, from in front of you, to where you directed your eyes.

You looked to where you expected to see the man's face, only to be met with his broad chest, clad in a baby blue hoodie, before you looked up and up, and up and up...

God, he's tall.

As your eyes met his light brown ones - the ones from before which had examined you closely, you noted - he smiled, sweet and charming, inviting but not pushy as he waited for your answer.

"I--," You cleared your throat as you felt your voice begin to crack, almost sure you saw his eyes flicker with delight. You nodded before attempting to speak again. "Just not in such a… clear-cut way, I guess." You spoke shyly as his brows raised in interest, motioning towards the chair in front of you, to which you nodded, making him sit.

"I'm Hirugami Sachirō, by the way." He said, still with a smile, nodding as you told him yours. "Please do continue." He tilted his head cutely as he gazed at you, expectant as you thought extra hard about what answer to give the man you were currently trying to impress, making his short wavy, fluffy-looking hair move slightly over his forehead.

"Well, I believe everyone has someone that they're destined to be with, someone who just fits. But I don't think everyone is meant to find them, for starters." You explained, focusing on your words instead of on the blush growing brighter as you went on.

"As in, they don't deserve it?" Hirugami inquired, leaning forward as he rested his cheek on his hand. Cute.

"No, I mean, maybe they're from some other time period or a place they could never travel to. I feel like sometimes the world itself just makes it difficult."

"Makes sense." He said, nodding with a thoughtful pout and chuckling lowly as you refused to meet his interested gaze. "Which part are you at?" He motioned to the still open book with his chin.

"Oh! This chapter is about the possibility of having more than one soulmate. Which I think is somewhat neat. What do you think?"

His eyes widened slightly at being directed a question, before humming reflectively for a moment before speaking, "That sounds unfair, doesn't it? I feel like you had to have been a really good person in your last life to get that."

"You're trying to bring karma into this? It's already complex enough as it is." You chuckled, watching as his smile broadened at the sound, before shrugging.

"Exactly why we need to consider all the possibilities." He shrugs, leaning back and making you suddenly miss the close proximity that seemed so intimidating at first. His legs brushed yours for a moment before he adjusted his position slightly to sit somewhat properly.

"Are you a philosopher, or something?" You asked, impressed by his knowledge of such an unusual topic. "I mean, this is something not a lot of people know about." You explained after he raised a curious brow at your question (probably meant to tease, you guessed).

"No,” his hand came up to bashfully cover the growing smile on his face, "I'm actually a vet student, I just like learning." He said, shrugging as if it was the simplest thing. "And maybe I'm a little bit of a romantic at heart."

Your lips pursed as you tried to keep your smile from getting too wide as you felt giddy with fondness for the whole-package of a man in front of you. "Is that so?" You asked, not sure what else to say to that, looking down as you traced random shapes on the table with your finger while blushing.

You couldn't see it, but Hirugami had a very serious, contemplative expression on his face as you did this.

Would it be too forward to just ask you out then and there? You seemed quite reserved... Would you be creeped out?

But if he didn't do it then, he was afraid he'd never get his chance again. Plus, he didn't want this warm, fuzzy feeling you caused in his chest to ever disappear. He wanted to hold onto it for a little longer.

"You could find out just how much of a romantic I can be..." He trailed off, inspecting your face for any signs that you might not be interested, but all he saw was how your blush deepened as your mind worked faster than his lips, so he made his move, leaning forward slightly as your eyes widened meekly. "By letting me take you out somewhere. Right now."

Your eyes snapped to his, blinking in confusion as he grinned, your blush somehow becoming even redder.

That was almost too smooth.

"Right now? It's pretty late. Where would we go?"

"Don't you like surprises?" His adorably jovial expression nearly made you give in.

"What if I don't?" You asked back with a small smirk that you promptly hid behind your nearly finished drink as you took a sip.

He sighed exaggeratedly, before leaning forward again, even closer than before as his hand fell beside your stagnant one, mirroring your position as his leg brushed yours without moving away this time. "There's this really fun Christmas market downtown... I'm sure you'd like it." He spoke with a high pitched voice, hoping to convince you with his puppy eyes and batting eyelashes. Not that you needed any of that to be convinced to go on a date with such an attractive man.

"Sure." You responded, mentally cringing at your lame reply. But Hirugami didn't seem to mind. He smiled broadly at you, taking your empty cup and throwing it away as you packed your stuff before walking towards where he stood at the entrance.

He was even taller than you thought. He had to be at least 1,90m, you noticed as you stood beside him, dwarfed in comparison. His long, beige coat made him seem even taller, complimenting his hoodie as well as the light blue jeans adorning his long legs.

"You'll like it, I promise." He said before pushing open the door for you before getting out of the shop and into the unforgiving cold of dusk, seemingly much colder than it actually was for people coming out of a warm and inviting environment you'd been in before.

You smiled at each other for a moment as you rubbed your hands together, wishing you'd brought some gloves as he led you closer to downtown.

You admired Hirugami's side profile as you walked in somewhat comfortable silence, broken up occasionally by his humming. You willed yourself to say something this time, instead of letting him lead the conversation.

Before you could come up with a topic, a kid ran in front of you to go join his friends, almost making you lose your balance if not for Hirugami's gentle hand on your lower back steadying you.

After making sure that you were alright, he turned to the group of kids gathered in a circle, with you doing the same, as they picked snowballs out of the mount they'd created before placing pieces in their mouths.

"I remember when I was that stupid." Hirugami said, smiling sarcastically, before scrunching his nose disapprovingly as the kids shouted excitedly about what they'd just done.

"You couldn't have been that stupid." You chuckled as you eyed the kids worryingly while you passed as you continued walking.

"My thinking license was revoked that day." He replied, chuckling as he reminisced, making you giggle as you talked.

"Is it still revoked?"

"If you keep smiling like that it will be."

Your eyes widened at the unexpected line, looking away as his eyes remained on you intently with a smile on his lips, breaking out into a full laugh as you looked down embarrassedly.

"Well," You began after cleaning your throat, hoping it'd distract him from your burning cheeks, "do you want to expand on that?"

"So, one Christmas, my siblings and I decided to give our mother a very expensive pair of diamond earrings. Fancy stuff." His humorous tone made you giggle. "And pretty important, since without them, none of us would have any gifts to give her. I think you can kind of see where this is going by now."

"Or maybe not, because I haven't even introduced the most important character yet, but we'll get there." You raised an intrigued brow, smiling at his excited narration. "On Christmas day, our dog was left unsupervised near the presents for a few minutes, and when we came back, she had a very special and very expensive box in her mouth." He paused for dramatic effect as you cringed in sympathy. 

He looked over at you to check if you were still listening, to find you with a scrunched up, adorably red, nose. The corner of his lips inched upwards softly, a blush dusted his cheeks and not from the cold before he regained his composure by looking ahead and making sure he didn’t stumble.

"And so, I tried to approach her and she ran away through the open window and I attempted to follow her... Only it didn't turn out as smooth as I had imagined." He sighed as you smiled with pity.

"And that's why Peanut isn't allowed anywhere near the presents."

“Peanut? Is that her name?" You asked curiously.

"Yeah! Wait, I have a picture right here." He said, pulling out his phone and showing you his lock screen, which was a picture of Hirugami and Peanut from years ago judging by how young he looked.

"She's adorable." You commented with a fond smile as you enjoyed the large, happy smile on young Hirugami's lips as he held his pet tightly, just before it was stored away in the man's pocket.

"Yeah, she takes after me."

Silence.

"I'll take it you think I'm cute."

"I plead the fifth." You both laughed loudly, earning odd stares from passersby that you paid no mind, as you approached a more crowded area close to the market. You would never tell him, but you were glad your joke was able to keep you from admitting that you did, indeed, find young Hirugami absolutely adorable. So cute that your heart could barely take it, with his bouncy looking hair and a toothy smile spreading over his round cheeks.

"But yeah, I got a whole mouthful of snow against my will and it wasn't anywhere near fun. So to see kids doing it willingly... Choices were certainly made." He said sarcastically as you laughed, nodding in agreement as you approached the wide plaza where the market was stationed, bustling with people and bright fairy lights.

"Come on! There's a stall this way that I buy from every year, and it never disappoints."

Hirugami led you towards a small stall with steam coming out of the windows as the worker fulfilled the people at the front of the queue's orders.

You stood by each other in line as you waited for your turn. "What kind of chocolate do you like?" He asked nonchalantly, and as you focused you could smell the scent of chocolate above the others.

"Surprise me." You said, not knowing exactly what he was planning to give you, but expecting something good nonetheless.

"I thought you didn't like surprises." He replied cheekily, smirking down at you as the line moved forward and you with it.

"Only on certain occasions."

"I'll keep that in mind." He said with a cheesy wink that still made you giggle. "You can stay back while I order, it'll be easier that way." He suggested as you got close to the start of the line, to which you nodded before motioning towards the fountain at the center of the plaza, waving as you walked to it.

You settled on the edge of it, taking out your phone and sending a message to your friend saying 'I have a lot to tell you.'

Just a few meters away stood a man who you were somewhat familiar with, tapping almost furiously on his screen, so unlike the deadpan expression on his face.

Bastard: Just fucking do it pussy🙄 It's the perfect opportunity!

So, clearing his throat, the man stepped forward, towards where you sat also looking at your phone.

"Here I thought you were the prettiest statue on the fountain." The man spoke from in front of you, making you look up from your phone to be met grayish-yellow narrow eyes that tugged at your memory in a familiar sort of way, though you couldn't place where you'd seen them before.

"You calling me stiff?" You asked with a blank look, holding in a smile as you finally realized where you knew him from, and by the widening of his eyes as he looked you over properly, he finally realized too.

"No! Ah fuck, aren't you in one of my classes?" The man asked, nose scrunched up in confusion as he squinted at you.

You nodded, telling him your name and what classes you shared (which were actually 2).

As he stuffed his cold hands in his pockets, his various rings caught on the fabric slightly, the glinting sliver on his pale hands matched the chains around his neck and the dangling earrings he wore. He looked down with furrowed brows which jumped up as a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head as he looked you over once more.

"Wait, was it two classes? Sorry, I don't really pay much attention to anything that happens in class." He said apologetically, rubbing his neck as he shifted from one chunky white sneaker to the other.

"Yeah, I can tell, even from the back row." You responded with a smirk, remembering the sight of the back of his spiky, dark brown hair, sitting two rows in front of you, doing everything but paying attention to the lesson. Fiddling with his jewelry or his phone,throwing anything he can get his hands on at one of his friends or simply just talking to them during the whole class. "If you didn't recognize me, then why'd you come talk to me?"

"Huh..." He trailed off, brows furrowed as if the answer was obvious.

He saw someone cute and tried to flirt with them, simple as that.

"Is that your friend?" Hirugami asked as he approached you and the new stranger, Suna, with two warm crepes with chocolate, narrowing his eyes at the other man slightly. "Hope you like Nutella." He commented as he watched you eye the sweets, handing one over to you which you took gratefully.

“We have a few classes together.” Suna said teasingly, taking a step closer to your side he kept his fox-like eyes on Hirugami’s narrowed ones with a challenging smile.

The air felt hot, slightly searing, despite how cold your hands felt, caught between two, very tall - although Hirugami was slightly taller than Suna, accentuated by his slouching -, very attractive, men.

"Well, we should get back to our date, I'm sure they can talk to you again in class next week.” The taller man said, a smile which you recognized as clearly being fake after such a short time with him on his face, taking a pleased bite out of his snack which you were also eating in an attempt to warm yourself up and distract from the tense atmosphere.

The sweet chocolate felt wonderfully warm on your taste buds, so good in fact that it nearly made you forget all about your surroundings for a moment, that is, until a hand was placed on your shoulder.

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed but your date seems cold." Said Suna - the owner of the hand on your shoulder - spitefully, smirking at the other man who blinked at your devious classmate, before they both turned to you.

Suna took your nearly finished snack from your hand, placing it into Hirugami’s opened hand as he gaped at the man - who donned some impressively sharp eyeliner - speechless as he took your hands into his pale and warm ones.

His hands were big around yours, the rings’ various textures scuffing against your skin as he attempted to create some friction tightening his grip to get the blood flowing and massaging each finger and the palms to help, breathing onto them as well as Hirugami looked in realization.

His hands had seemed cold at first glance when he’d first approached you - not like you’d been paying much attention to them, of course not - due to how pale and slim they were, seemingly incapable to provide much warmth despite being bigger than yours. But as he slowly brought warmth back to your digits, you realized their potential. He was gentle with his touches, but had a firm hold against your skin, hands so warm you wondered if he minded sacrificing his own warmth for yours.

Hirugami’s initial reaction was to chide Suna for putting the moves on his date, before he noticed the way your hands had lost some of their color, starting to regain it as the shorter man held them softly in his. He felt a sort of acceptance or perhaps even fondness for Suna’s actions, considering he saw what you needed before he could and acted without hesitation.

Maybe Hirugami's first thought of Suna, that he was a crafty man out to steal his date, was off by just a bit.

Not like he'd ever admit that. 

He still thought he was too crafty though.

His shoulders sagged as he watched the way Suna gazed at you intently, your cheeks pinker than before. His brows furrowed as his chest tightened protectively, jealousy swirling in his gut.

You looked over at the man with the beige coat, noticing the crestfallen expression he wore as he stared down at the food in his hands.  A half melted, nearly finished sag of chocolate; once prepared with care to bring warmth and comfort, now lay cold, shapeless even. His eyes stared down at it, refusing to look at the result of his carelessness unfolding before him, choosing instead to focus on the hopefulness he could still feel as he looked at the sweet snack.

“I should probably start heading home.”

“I’ll walk you to the station!” Hirugami said quickly in response, not being content with just sitting back and wallowing in his mistakes. Those days are over.

“Then, I’ll be going. See you on monday.” Suna said cheekily with a wink as he waved, eyes solely focused on you while you smiled while waving back.

The man then turned to Hirugami, giving a nod that could’ve been respectful, but he took it as mocking, since that seemed to be the only expression Suna could muster. But he nodded back nonetheless, turning away with an arm around your shoulders.

“Is this the right way?” You asked as you headed the opposite way from where you came from, looking up at Hirugami as he took his arm from around you with a blush as he avoided your gaze.

“We can get to the station this way pretty fast and I want to show you something.”

You simply nodded, clueless to the reason why he was leading you down this path.

He felt as if he had something to prove. As if he had to be better than his “rival” (who wasn’t really a rival at all, to his knowledge).

Just like when he was younger, he had to be better.

As the two of you walked in comfortable silence, you couldn't help but gaze down at your feet. Colorful lights reflected brightly off of the worn stone path, diverting your gaze upwards. Figures made of lights greeted you as you did. Hirugami smiled fondly at you after you looked up to meet his gaze, he watched as the lights reflected off of your eyes, your face becoming redder at the eye contact. The hot fuzziness you felt in your stomach forced you to look away from his intense look.

You walked side by side through the streets, commenting on the lights you saw and admiring the way they hung between buildings, right above your heads. 

At one point, Hirugami slipped his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers for good measure. His hand felt big, warm and soft, slightly bigger than Suna's with fingers just a little thicker--

Wait. 

Why were you still thinking about Suna?

Why did your mind still linger on the feeling of his rings on your hands or the way his razor sharp eyes zeroed in on you like you were the most expensive piece of jewelry he'd ever seen?

You would've felt bad for Hirugami, if your mind wasn't on him too. 

It seemed impossible for it not to be with how calming his presence was, easily lulling you into a sense of comfort like the sound of soft waves caressing the sand on a sunny summer day. 

Somewhere you sort of would rather be at right now. 

"Here we are." Hirugami's voice cut through the fog in your mind, stopping in front of the station and giving you an adorably awkward smile, swinging your still joined hands back and forth. This caused you to giggle at his antics while he laughed loudly at the released tension.

Neither of you wanted to speak, too afraid to ruin the pleasant atmosphere, knowing that you’d have to part from each other once you did.

Hirugami squeezed your hand once, then twice, then again as you did the same, rubbing his finger over the back of your hand as he took a step closer. His body heat enveloped you as he stood close enough for you to notice that his eyelashes were slightly lighter than his hair.

His hand raised hesitantly, brushing the side of your face with a feather-light finger that went around your head until he cradled it. You craned your head up in order to look at him as he looked down at you fondly, thumb stroking your red cheek. His big brown eyes roamed your features, as if committing them to memory with fond care.

“I’m glad we met. Call me anytime, ok?” He whispered, each word brushing your face before you nodded. His heart made his chest vibrate with its strength as he breathed deeply while looking intently into your eyes, nervous but elated at the happenings of his day. Well, most of them.

Hirugami’s face neared yours suddenly, eyes half-lidded while yours widened, before he placed a long and tender kiss on your forehead, making your eyes slip closed for a moment, the feeling of his soft, plump lips against your skin making your head feel light and a pleasant warmth to hum beneath your skin.

You stepped away from him slowly, hands attempting to hold each other for as long as possible before you walked towards the station, turning around every few steps to shoot him a smile or a wave before he disappeared from your view with an animated wave and a wide, toothy smile.

You took out your phone, pulling up your friend’s contact and ignoring the messages she’d sent already in response to your previous, cryptic text, and sending another message.

I have even more to tell you.

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Civic Auditorium Arena in Omaha, NE, USA - September 13, 1980

(x)

(x)

Fan Stories

“I don't know if anyone has ever been able to appreciate a rock concert as much as I did when I saw Queen at age 7. I knew the order the songs were supposed to be in, the way the stage was supposed to look, and what the band was supposed to do. And everything happened perfectly. Except for that damn mustache. Late summer 1980, I was pestering my mom to take me into town to get candy. She said, "Do you really want to get candy, or would you rather get tickets to see Queen?" I stopped in my tracks and started being the nicest boy you could imagine. I thought maybe she was kidding, but knew she wouldn't kid me about something like that. I guess my dad had already OKd it too. Like Axl Rose once said about Queen: "They meant everything to me." We drove all the way to Omaha to get tickets: they were $9 in advance, or $11 the day of the show if still available (though now I'm not sure how they weren't sold out immediately). I'm still not quite sure why Queen was playing smaller arenas at that point, since I think they had already begun playing stadiums. Finally, September 13 arrived. I was in 2nd grade. Ads had been all over the radio for this concert. One of my baby-sitters and two of her friends rode up with us also, and they went off on their own when we got there. The show was one of those infamous "general admission" things, so our seats depended solely on how early we arrived. I think we got to the arena at about 9 am... almost a full 12 hours before the show actually started (much longer in 7-year-old hours). A single word, "QUEEN", was boldly displayed on the marquee above the many doors where small lines were beginning to form. Excited bands of people were running/gathering everywhere. Queen was one of the biggest five bands in the world at that time: "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" was on the charts, The Game had just been released, and "Another One Bites the Dust" was soon-to-be released as a single. We picked one of the lines and got ready for what was indeed halfway dangerous: the growing mob of people ready to run in when the doors would open. This was a big issue of the time, as it was the year before that 11 people were crushed to death at the turnstiles of a Who concert. (An episode of the TV show W.K.R.P. in Cincinnati even focused on this.) People were starting to press onto the transparent doors trying to look inside, when suddenly there was the sound of tires screeching from the street: a white limousine honked twice and sped around the corner toward the other side of the arena, and was gone within seconds. The "big kids" screamed and ran after it; I was too small to do this, but we got better places in line! When everyone came back, they said they actually saw Freddie and John get out of it and be scuffled into the building before getting attacked by the mob of people. In the meantime, others around us were starting to talk to my mom. Two of them were a man and a lady who were apparently on date, and they ended up even staying by and sitting by us through the show. Some other people also offered to kind of stay around my mom and I to make sure I'd be safe on the way in. A couple of times, a big fat drunk guy yelled out, "Who's your favorite group?" and of course everyone yelled "Queen!"

Now people were beginning to bang on the doors of the entrance. I think the doors finally opened at around 11 am. When they did, we and other people from several sides of the arena moved in, towards those coming in from other doors on opposite sides: within seconds, everyone had funneled from outside to stopping cold in the lobby, having basically run into each other. This is exactly where everyone stayed for the next two hours. A human shield of several people were intact around my mom and I preventing my being crushed... and all I could see for two hours were a bunch of butts! Once in awhile someone would try and lift me up to see all the people. From the distance, the drunk guy again repeated the "Who's your favorite band?" line a couple of times, realizing that more people could hear him now that he was indoors and echoing, and everyone gave the appropriate response. By the fifth time, only the drunk people were responding to him, and by the tenth time people were laughing and moaning. Every so often, some loud music would come out of the arena like a band was tuning-up, but it wasn't Queen music so everyone figured it was just the opening act. At 1 pm, the turnstiles were finally opened. I was kind of keeping my guard around me as everyone pressed forward, and everything was moving faster the closer we got, but by surveying the area I thought I'd be safe. I had my ticket in my hand. The guy from the couple was going to try and enter first, then me, and then my mom. When I got to the turnstiles, my mom and the guy grabbed my arms on both sides and completely hoisted me over. A surprised old man tore my ticket while I was in mid-air. Suddenly, we were standing relatively calmly inside: the difficult part was over, and we were at least safe from here on out. People were still running everywhere and screaming, but the hallways were pretty big so it wasn't too dangerous as long as we stayed toward the edge. Most people were still outside, since we were somewhat early. An older 12-year-old tore around the corner, then his '70s-style tennis shoes screeched against the floor and he fell down for a second as he decided to which way to go. We knew we were sort of on a mission to walk fast toward a balcony and just get seats instead of wandering around indecisively like others. We went straight up toward the second level balcony, as others ran the opposite way down to the main floor. My mom and I and the people we'd befriended walked right next to the wall, and I pressed against it while just a few feet away scattered groups of people would sometimes run by full-speed. I would have wanted to be on the main floor, but my mom had previously explained to me how, unless we were in the balcony, we would have to actually stand through the whole show (there weren't any chairs on the main floor) and would hardly be able to see anything. Plus, along with the horror stories of people running in at the beginning of a rock concert, I had also heard how people supposedly got crushed to death against the stage... so sitting in the balcony was just fine with me. We got two seats in the front of the second balcony, just by the railing to the balcony below. We were on the right side of the arena, about halfway back, so we couldn't complain. Now, I knew this was the beginning of the biggest wait: sitting in the same spot from 1 in the afternoon to about 9 at night.

The main parts of the stage I liked (from viewing the pictures in my Live Killers album) were intact: the steps were lined with lights under Roger's drums, and middle of the main stage had a small plank stage that stuck out for Freddie to walk on, where the crowd could touch him but not too easily. Most of the instruments, and all of Roger's drum set, were covered in giant sheets of plastic. I'd never seen such big speakers; I had a flashback when I saw the black and white photo to the right because that's what they looked like with the house lights up. Throughout the afternoon, the lights in the arena would go out, then come back on... like we were being teased. Finally when it was about time for the opening band, the lights went off longer than usual and the band took the stage. The opening band was someone we had never heard of, and my mom and I both can't even remember who it was now (two people have e-mailed me saying it was a band called "Dakota"). I don't think they had any hits, and then apparently disappeared soon after. The crowd tolerated the first two or three songs. Then, every song ended with "Just one more song!" much to the audience's vocal dismay. I went on a trip to the bathroom, and they were still playing when I came back. Then they left. Ten minutes later, they came back and said "Just one more song!" and I think they played three. People were yelling, "We want Queen!" People were getting harsh to the point it was just uncomfortable even seeing the band on the stage. Everyone cheered when they left. The lights came back on. Another two hours. Just seeing them walk across the stage would have been enough for me, so at that age I really couldn't comprehend being in their presence for a whole two-hour concert. This wait was easier though because every second we knew the show could start. Seeing Queen still seemed like it was too good to be true, like some act of God would occur just before the show to prevent it. Then, the lights went out. There's no feeling like the wait in total darkness just before a Queen concert. It was 10 minutes of black and the loudest screaming I'd ever heard. I remember it was "scary" and so I think Brian might have also been playing the weeping guitar sound like the beginning of the We Will Rock You concert video. It was a good scary feeling though, like going up the first hill of a roller coaster. After several minutes of intense darkness and the crowd screaming, when I felt like my ears didn't have room for any more sound to enter (though I loved it), the even louder sound of thunder clapped across the arena with an incredibly blinding light. I could see everyone on the main floor have to turn completely around in unison toward the back of the arena because the lights were so bright. I kept trying to glance at the stage to see what was happening, but it was too bright to see anything... plus, in between the flashes, it was too dark to see anything. It was sort of an unnerving state, being totally blinded in that big of a place with that many people, and coming to the realizaton that it would be unthinkable to actually move around and that we were basically helpless. I was holding my mom's hand. Queen had the whole crowd paralyzed in their tracks before the show even began.

I'm not sure if the lights all rose up like in the We Will Rock You video or not (since we couldn't see), or if they were already raised because of the opening band. Eventually the thunder and noise turned to music. Finally, through my wincing, Freddie Mercury was suddenly in front of my own little eyes on the front extended stage in all the smoke. I'd never even seen a celebrity in person before, much less my idol at the time. I didn't think they would open with the fast version of "We Will Rock You" for some reason, since that's at the beginning of the Live Killers album and I thought they would want to do something different, but was surprised that they opened with a non-Queen song: "Jailhouse Rock". The stage looked similar to that in the We Will Rock You concert video, with the smaller panels of lights replacing the single giant panel from previous tours; however, I'm certain there was at least another entire, higher level of moving lights (not only from seeing them at the concert, but also looking at the pictures for years afterwards). The lights in the We Will Rock You video seem extremely cut-back. Instead of one row of panels of lights across the back of the stage, the panels were all over the place and the ones above the band moved straight up and down on poles and tilted back and forth. There were also little men somehow sitting amongst the panels who manually operated at least a dozen spotlights, and more guys doing this from a small section hanging down from the ceiling at the middle of the arena. Since the spotlights were directed from the top of the arena, there wasn't a big bulky spotlight booth in the middle of the main floor taking up space, and the audio booth was placed along the right side of the arena (down not to far from us) so it wasn't in anyone's way. In the darkness between a lot of the songs, flashlights darted around the stage... we couldn't figure out if it was the band or engineers setting things up. Thankfully, no one came out on stage before the show to announce the band (I've always thought this is really cheesy). Freddie had on those red leather pants with the blue knee-pads... and, unfortunately, that ugly mustache! "What do you think about my new mustache?" Freddie asked. (Mixed applause.) "Some people don't like it, but I just say 'fu** 'em.'" (Crowd goes wild.). Freddie drank some water, then tossed the rest out onto the crowd along with his cup. He tossed his tambourine out later, and I couldn't imagine what it would actually be like to touch it. Freddie also had that long silver microphone stand that he always danced around with in the videos. He was running all over the place; one second he was on the plank at our side of the arena, the next at the other side. The three high school girls who rode up with us were excited because when he went to the end of one of the planks he ended up level and close to them in the balcony (but upset because, had one not been on crutches, they would have stayed on the main floor where Freddie tossed his tambourine!). Once or twice I remember looking into the middle of the arena and some kind of explosion occurred in mid-air (apparently launched from the lighting duct at the top of the arena). There weren't that many lighters in the audience, but instead everyone was using those green glow-sticks that come out around Halloween (I think these were new at the time). The audience kept throwing their green glow sticks up on the stage until at times it was covered, and more than once Brian kicked off some back into the audience (and I think he might have been getting upset but I'm not sure!).

There were numerous parts of the show I knew had to be there... and they all were. The first was the "scary" sound effects and section of "Get Down, Make Love", where Queen showed off their lights. (At that age, I thought the erotic sound effects were simply supposed to represent the monster breaking-in on the cover of News of the World). Smoke shrouded the band, as the panels of lights took over and moved around to the audience's ooohs and aaahs. My mom and I were trying to figure out what was on Roger's bass drum, since it didn't look like an album cover; it turned out to be the white "face" design, also in the We Will Rock You video. Back then, concerts didn't have big video screens, so we just had to use the binoculars that we'd brought. Some spotlights were gathering on Freddie and Brian as they went to sit on two stools toward the right of the stage, and my mom got excited because we knew "Love of My Life" was coming. Freddie announced, "This is our first time in Omaha... " as the song started, and got the crowd to sing along like on the Live Killers album. Meanwhile, I had become a source of info for those around who wanted to know what the songs were; every time a new song would start, people would ask me what it was! I really don't know if anyone has ever actually been able to appreciate a concert as much as I did that night: I was only 7, but had every album except the first two, and knew every song they played except maybe two or three. But what's interesting is how fans often wish they could experience how a "classic" band was 20 years prior... and this is strangely how I felt I was experiencing the show, because at my age it seemed like Queen had been around 20 years. There were parts of the show, including the stage design, that were "legendary" to me, but were only 2-3 years old in reality. Now, 20 years later, they're legendary to everyone else. Periodically, the guy next to me changed the tape in his "hidden" tape recorder. We knew the show was close to the end when "Bohemian Rhapsody" began. Everyone clapped to the pre-recorded opera section, and as the Live Killers liner notes say: "The audience and the lights take care of the rest." The crowd went nuts when Roger hit the famous gong at the end.

I think there were two or three more songs, and then everything went black for about 10 minutes. Could it be that they were actually not going to play the standard "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions/God Save the Queen" closing? The house lights may have even come on for awhile, then went back off. A few people were starting to leave, and I kept telling my mom that they had to end the concert that way, because that's the only way a Queen concert ends... but then even I was having doubts. Finally, the yellow lights around the gong all turned on, pointing directly on Roger, who started the drums of "We Will Rock You" and everyone stomped their feet and clapped. Of course "We Are the Champions" was next, and Freddie shook some of the hands flailing in front of the stage while singing it. I remember there was one hand jumping up and down that never got shook! Freddie bent his neck way back when he sang "... of the world!" at the very end like I knew he was supposed to from videos on TV, and we hoped for another song but knew that was probably going to be it. A grand finale of Queen's famous pyrotechnics began shooting everywhere from the stage, the lights were all moving around, and everyone was jumping all over in the aisles. Soon the pre-recorded Night at the Opera version of "God Save the Queen" did begin playing...but, nobody really sang to it since this is America and no one knows the words! At this point, I tried to make sure I was truly fathoming what it was like to actually see the band members in front of me since they'd be gone soon. Freddie was still dancing around and danced out a little door behind the drums, and the rest of the band followed one-by-one, with John being last as he waved to everybody one last time. The lights flickered and moved some more to the rest of the song, slowly going dark along with the rest of the arena, with the final rise of the crowd's applause. Perfect. Except for that damn mustache. We walked down what seemed like endless spiraling stairs on the way out...extremely slowly this time. My ears had that weird "ringing" feeling like everyone said I'd have, but that I'd never experienced before. Spotlights were panning the sky outside. We said goodbye to the couple we'd been with during the show. A guy in his late 20s started talking to us on the long way out; he laughed and told me how he'd also had to argue with his mom who said Queen would never come to Omaha. My mom asked him if he thought I'd even remember the whole thing since I was so little. He looked down at me, saw my grin from ear-to-ear, and said, "He'll never forget this."” - Jim

[book-dragon-etcetera]

Why Mantis and Loki should be a thing; fight me (please don’t I swear I’m nice).

What makes a good relationship subplot? Actually, scratch that – this is the MCU, we don’t go for mediocrity – what makes the best relationship subplots? It can vary, but my favourites, the ones that keep me digging and digging, coming back every time I think of a new angle (you’re in the fandom tags, you know what I’m talking about) always tie into the wider story. They feed character growth; allow new concepts to be explored; fit in with and in some cases represent the greater themes of a story.

In case you haven’t guessed, I’m going to be arguing that Loki and Mantis could be something along those lines. Something great. One of the best, most interesting relationships of modern screenwriting. I know, okay!! I know, it feels weird as anything – it’s taken me a while, too. But bear with me, and worst-case scenario, you’ll have a new take on a fascinating pair of characters.

Before I put the two together though, I feel like I need to do a little character study for Mantis. So far, she has had little to no clear development and without serious thought of your own, she seems entirely one-dimensional; two at best. In case you have not plugged hours and hours of thought into a character with barely ten minutes of screen-time, here are some of my thoughts, free of charge 😊. Incidentally, the interpretation I take to enhance my viewing experience (and add suitably crippling levels of angst :D ) ties her in perfectly with Loki’s story and character.

More Than Just a Bug: A Minor Study

What we know: Mantis has spent her whole life in servitude to Ego a massively powerful being, intent on taking over the universe, who sees all other life as inferior, insect-like (hence the name ‘Mantis’ – happenstance in the comics, derogatory in the films). Whether she has ever met anyone else is unclear, and until we actually see her talk about it, we’ll never know. Going by her comfort in talking to the Guardians, and also the fact that she anticipates the result of Ego’s meeting with Peter, I’m going to assume she has, but more specifically, that they were Ego’s other children.

Imagine this, if you will. Mantis, since her childhood, has been intermittently exposed to Ego’s offspring. They appear, are doted on for a few days, and then vanish as suddenly as they came. Not having been delayed by the Ravagers that collected them (as Peter was), they are all young children, with strong but changeable emotions. As such, they fit Ego’s narrative of universe full of mindless beasts, unthinking and impermanent. If Mantis were not an empath, able to feel their distress and confusion at the kidnapping, they would have no impact on her at all. As it is, they give her no epiphany, but rather a slow sense of unease that grows over time, as child after child is reduced to a pile of bones in a cave.

Her uncertainty must of course be hidden from Ego, who may be too narcissistic to imagine she could ever turn against him, but would certainly kill her if he saw her doubts, so she separates herself from the feeling. Her outer self remains uncomplicated and pliant, still attempting to please her adoptive father-figure, while her inner self languishes in steadily deepening turmoil. She dissociates to survive, until she almost believes it herself.

Now let’s try looking at her scene with Drax, where she touches his arm by the flower-filled lakes, through this new lens.

BEWARE. THIS SCENE WILL BECOME SIGNIFICANTLY MORE PAINFUL IF YOU ASSIMILATE THIS INTERPRETATION.

To recap: Mantis has spent her life in a state of slowly growing unease over the pain, suffering and subsequent deaths of Ego’s many children. Her only comfort has been his assurances that all other life is meaningless, and as such their suffering weightless. By Mantis’s own design, this inner struggle has been buried deep, totally inaccessible. Therefore, she goes into this scene entirely intending to allow Ego to kill the Guardians, and if Peter is successful, the universe.

Alright, here goes:

So, Mantis seems normal (normal??) for the first section. She reacts suitably when Drax calls her ugly, and then when he argues that it’s a good thing. When he mentions his lost daughter, she makes a joke (incidentally the sort of play-a-crooked-thing-straight joke that Loki might enjoy), but then Drax compares his daughter to Mantis, calling them both ‘innocent’, and she makes this face when he isn’t looking at her.

This is not a naïve look, and I don’t think it’s meant to be. The tiniest edge of that inner guilt, her natural empathy for the terrible fates of Ego’s children, is bleeding through against her will, brought to the surface by a father mourning the loss of his daughter. Wanting to understand, and partly in fear of what she might find there, she reaches for his arm.

When she feels his grief, she is physically affected, taking large gasps of air with glittering eyes. It’s easy to forget, but in some ways, Drax is the most emotionally developed of the Guardians. He had a wife, and daughter, and a home. He’s lived through what most of us would determine a normal life, and reached middle age. Quill, Gamora, Groot – they’re all younger than him, and therefore less emotionally developed. (I have no idea what age Rocket is, but at least by maturity he can certainly be added to the list.) This level of experience is where Drax’s moments of unexpected wisdom come from. He is a fully realised person with all the complexities and regrets that come with age, something Mantis has never felt in anyone except Ego. And he is mourning his daughter.

When she touches his arm, Mantis is feeling one of the worst losses, the deepest hurts that a person can ever experience, even dulled by years: the loss of a child. But for her, it’s even more than that. It’s personal. She realises in that moment that on the other end of every one of Ego’s children was someone like Drax, feeling what he felt. That they were still out there in the universe, mourning the sons and daughters that Mantis had met. It tilts her world on its axis, and we get a close-up to watch it:

This is her guilt, her worst fears validated. She can no longer use the ‘we’re just insects anyway’ justification to excuse the cavern of bones. Every tiny doubt she has ever had now has an explanation, and it means she has grown up complicit to atrocities she couldn’t even recognise. Upset, and guilty that he still believes her innocent, she turns immediately to Drax, knowing she can no longer stand by do nothing. They are interrupted by Gamora before Mantis can explain, so later that night, knowing she cannot bear being complicit yet again to murder, Mantis wakes Drax and betrays Ego, despite her fear and love for someone who has been (literally) her whole world.

Go watch the scene thinking about Mantis's guilt, I dare you. I did, and it hurt me.

By the end of GotG2, we have a Mantis still conditioned to serve the father she has now killed. His teachings have left her with crippling self-doubt, and a sense of personal inferiority that as of yet we have not seen her question, despite a truly incredible level of power (subduing first Ego – an actual planet – and then Thanos; I’ll go into her frightening Gamora later), and her own heroism. She is incapable of being righteously angry at Ego, because righteously implies right, something it does not occur to her that she might have. And she hides it all, because over the years she has built an unconscious self-defence mechanism which allows her to control people’s actions towards her by seeming harmless and sweet. The ultimate deflector of aggression.

What her motives and feelings might be now she has found her freedom, I also have some thoughts on, but that is a topic for another day (possibly a Loki including day, hmm?). I feel like it’s important to mention that, although this is a dark interpretation, that doesn’t mean I think Mantis is a dark character. There is inherent darkness in the horror of her past, but some of the best and brightest people in the world are people who have been to hell and back, and come back kinder for it. One day, when she has learnt some self-worth, and ditched the clothes that she wore as a slave to a monster, I think she could be one of the best, most impressive, and nuanced heroes we have ever seen.

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Teenage Dirtbag Pt.5 (K.S.)

strap in babies: this is rough one. love you all and hope you are staying safe 💛 enjoy

(cancer, v sad)

The minute the door slammed behind Kyle, you sunk the floor, pulling your knees to your chest and letting out a heavy sigh. No one else made you quite so ferocious in only a matter of moments. Yet, even so, you felt that obnoxious pang of guilt in your stomach for raising your voice at him. You often left confrontational situations feeling guilty; it was merely circumstance that most of the confrontation in your life was with him at that time. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You stood abruptly with a growl, frustrated with yourself. As much as you’d like to sit and rationalize with yourself forever, you knew in the end that the nagging feeling rarely left entirely. Perhaps he was right; you had very consensually slept with him twice with little to no complaint before blowing up on him. You could understand how he might be confused. You came to the conclusion that you had just been set off by his abrupt arrival, and that you’d apologize next time you saw him.

However, the next day, Kyle was absent from the class you shared with him. This was incredibly unusual as it was a criminal justice class he practically led most days, and he rarely missed classes in general. You struggled to pay attention, the guilt in your belly growing and gnawing at you. Was he okay? Had your words affected him more than you realized? What if he did something stupid? Something unthinkable? You were nauseous by the end of class, thinking yourself into a dither. Rationally, you knew he would never, but he’d done more than a few things you’d seen as out of character as of late. As soon as class ended, you spotted one of the boys from his band. Taking a deep breath, you approached him.

“Hey, Tony. Have you seen Kyle today?” you asked, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

Half baked, he shook his shaggy hair. “Nah, weird huh? Wonder what the little guy’s up to..”

“Mm, thank you,” you replied distractedly, not entirely convinced he was a reliable source. However, you had little else to go off of. You knew you had to make sure he was okay.

Your feet carried you swiftly to your car. Once in your driver’s seat, you found yourself unable to catch your breath. Were you being rational about all this? You really had no reason to be this concerned. Heaven knows he wouldn’t be if the shoe was on the other foot. You let out a long breath, pressing your palms against the steering wheel. Your conscience refused to let you just drop it and drive home.

The drive to his house felt oddly automatic despite how long it had been. Everything looked the same. White picket fences, square, manicured lawns, and housewives sprawled out in lawn chairs drinking sweet tea in the sun: The American Dream. But you knew better. The Scheible home had taught you much about how deceiving the appearance of a home could be. Bright white smiles sometimes hide the most bitter sadness.

You parked next to the curb, noticing an unfamiliar utility van sat in his driveway. Curiosity sparked, you hurried up the steps to the front door and knocked, suddenly feeling a little silly for being there. Too late to turn back now.

Mrs. Scheible answered the door. She flashed you a shiny smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Y/N, sweetie, what a surprise! Is there something I can do for you?” she asked. You could instantly see things were not good. She wore dark, puffy circles under her bloodshot eyes, and her normally manicured hands dry and the polish chipped. She normally invited everyone in without a second thought. Fear clenched your stomach.

“Hi, Darlene,” you smiled. “Is Kyle home?”

“Yes, he is. I’ll go get him for you, okay?”

You nodded, trying to convey as much sympathy for her as you could without saying anything. As she closed the door, your eyes found the van in the driveway again, and it all suddenly clicked into place.

Nurses. For his father.

You felt a bit queasy, feeling even more ridiculous for thinking he could possibly be upset over a squabble with you when he had much more pressing matters going on at home. Your thoughts were interrupted when the door was pulled open again, Kyle stepping out onto the doormat and closing the door behind him. It was as if the family was afraid the tragedy living inside their home would escape through the front door if it was held open too long.

You felt a pang in your chest as you took in the sight of him. It had been less than 24 hours since you’d seen him last, but he looked thinner, a shell of the boy you knew. His eyes looked like his mom’s.

“Hey.” His voice was weak.

“Hi,” you responded dumbly. “I-I, uh- you weren’t until class today. I was just… making sure you were okay?” It came out as more of a question than a statement. You weren’t sure why you were there anymore.

“Ah,” he replied, his arms wrapping around his middle. The silence hung heavy between you, his lack of a response speaking volumes.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, picking at your fingers. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday.”

He blinked at you as if he didn’t remember for a moment. “You had every right to react the way you did,” he responded, shaking his head.

“No, I didn’t,” you sighed, hating how defeated he sounded. “You were right; I was giving you mixed signals and I just can’t expect you to read my mind. I think we… both have some uncertainty about what we’re feeling.” You met his eyes finally, seeing him give you a little nod of agreement. “And I can see you definitely have a lot more serious matters on your plate right now.”

He audibly swallowed, his eyes blinking rapidly for a moment. “Yeah,” he choked.

Overcome, you acted on pure instinct, wrapping your arms around his middle and pulling him into a tight hug. He tensed at first, but slowly relaxed, reciprocating your tight grip. You felt a shuddery breath leave his thin frame and could hear him physically fighting not to break down. “It’s okay,” you assured, feeling a knot in your own throat now.

He abruptly pulled back, hands wiping at his eyes harshly. “Thank you,” he breathed, giving you a tight-lipped smile as he stepped back toward the door. You wanted nothing more than to resist him pushing you away, but there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t rescue him from the realities waiting for him inside. You couldn’t ease the pain of losing a father one day at a time. So you just stood there helplessly, watching as he stepped back into his home and closed the door behind him. You weren’t sure how long it was before you finally came back to yourself and returned to your car.

++++++

You didn’t remember much of the drive when you arrived back at your dorm. You felt completely disconnected from everything around you. Walking into your empty dorm felt almost like a relief. You knew exactly what you needed.

You numbly pulled your phone from your pocket, selecting your mom’s contact. She answered after just a few rings.

“Hi, baby! How are you?” she greeted cheerfully.

You felt your throat tighten, tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t help but feel so grateful to have her there and healthy and available.

“I, um.. I’m kind of a mess, actually,” you replied, letting out a little sad laugh.

“What’s going on?” she asked, worry filling her voice.

You told her everything. She’d known about Kyle and everything that had happened during the breakup, but everything since then was new. You poured out every anxiety and doubt until you had nothing left to say, and she listened carefully to every word. By the end you were a blubbering mess.

“I just… I don’t know how I’m feeling. I don’t trust that I’m not just wanting to take care of him through this trauma he’s going through,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with yet another tissue. You had a pretty impressive pile growing beside you at this point.

Your mother was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Honey, you have a big heart. I think that your desire to help Kyle is what drew you two together in the first place. You always wanted to teach him vulnerability.” You listened carefully, her words becoming your gospel as always. “But, I think you know that it’s more than that to you now.”

You felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. All the turmoil and heartache; how could you not have seen how much you still cared for him? You had never stopped caring for him. “I’m just scared he doesn’t feel the same. What if he just thinks he needs me right now so he can get through this?”

“Well, you’re going to have to decide if that’s a risk you’re willing to take or not, sweetheart.” Her tone was calm and resolute, convincing you it was really just that simple.

“Okay,” you replied finally, a shaky sigh leaving your tense body.

“I love you bunches. I know you’ll make the right decision, hon.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

You both said your goodbyes and hung up, leaving you a ball of snot and tears. Gathering up your tissues, you thought about all the things she had told you. Though your mind fought to keep up, your heart had really already made its decision. You just prayed you’d make it out in one piece on the other end of all this.

+++++

A few days passed. You found yourself thinking of him almost always. You texted him occasionally to check in, but it was never more. He needed space to be with his family, and you respected that. You just wanted him to know that you were never far if he needed you. It was draining to worry so much about something so far removed from you, but you remembered your mom’s words and prayed you were doing the right thing.

It was very early Sunday morning when he finally called. You quickly sat up, knowing it could only be him calling you at this time.

“Hello?”

His ragged breaths came from the other end of the line.

“Y-N... he’s gone.”

TAGLIST: @londonmademedoit @cathyoliveros10 @chclcmet @isthataladybag @not-ready-to-lose @lilttletimmy @madschalamet @cali4niagirl @kissessforharryyy