#but i too am not immune to strong lady with her hair falling in her face all messy

[dirtydoctorwho]

Screen caps of our girl in DS:itMoM

[wooteena]

technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

-

Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

-

acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Prompt- Rhys gets sick and feyre becomes mother hen👀

Sick Day

Fluff//1865 words

Cassian grinned. “I told Mor she shouldn’t do it. It wasn’t my fault.”

“Sure you did, Cass.”

“Don’t sound so skeptical! I am your general, one of the highest ranking officers in your court, My Lady. I would never lie to you.”

Feyre smacked Cassian on the arm. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like, I don’t know, harass somebody else?”

He gave a wide smile. “Why would I do that when you’re right here?”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Gods, you-”

A loud cough cut Feyre off.

Feyre glanced at the ceiling as if she could see her mate through it. She could, in fact, sense where he was. “Do you think he’s okay?”

A tired sigh left Cassian. “I am so sick of listening to you to worry about each other every time the other one blinks funny. It was a cough, Feyre.”

Feyre bit her lip. “Okay.”

Nyx cooing distracted Feyre’s anxious thoughts and she turned to her baby. He was sitting in Cassian’s lap. For some unfathomable reason, Nyx found Cassian hilarious, and he would sit on his uncle’s lap and giggle at the sound of his voice. Or at least, Feyre hoped it was the sound of his voice. Should Feyre find her newborn actually knew what Cassian was saying, the male would be flayed alive.

“Hi, honey,” Feyre cooed back, waggling her fingers at her son.

Cassian snorted. “You’ve gotten so gooey.”

Feyre scowled. “Me? Never. That’s just Rhys.”

“I’ll admit, Rhys is more of a softie than you are, but you’re not the bitch you used to be.”

Feyre gasped. She picked up Nyx and held him close. “Don’t say such things! He’s only a baby.” Then she covered Nyx’s ears and added, “And for the record, I am still a bitch. Don’t forget it.”

Cassian cracked a smile. “If you say so.”

Before he could say anything more, another cough sounded upstairs.

Feyre handed Nyx hurriedly to Cassian, who just rolled his eyes. “Go on, check on Rhysie pie. Gods forbid he has allergies.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t holding my son.” With that, Feyre winnowed into her and her mate’s bedroom.

Rhys was lying in bed. The room was dark enough that Feyre couldn’t tell what his facial expression was right now, but she could sense his discomfort through the bond.

“What’s wrong, Rhys?” breathed Feyre, rushing to his side.

“Lord, you’re fussy today.” Rhys had been going for a sarcastic tone, but it came out raspy and weak.

Feyre crossed her arms. “Let’s skip all the bullshit about how you’re feeling well and refuse to say anything. What’s wrong?”

Scowling, though possibly more at the situation than at Feyre, Rhys silently opened his mental shields. And Feyre was met with affliction.

She was overcome by the sensation of gut-wrenching pains and full-body soreness. Her throat was sore and her hands were clammy. Feyre felt dizzy, nauseated, likely about to fall over-

Feyre pulled out of Rhys’ mind quickly. “You’re sick.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Rhys groaned. “You should go. Don’t want you to get it.”

Feyre snorted. “For one thing, I can just summon a shield around my body in protection. Rather simple.” Feyre did indeed erect a body wrap of sorts, made of magic. Then she added, “And anyway, I love you almost enough that I’d deal with that just to be with you.”

Rhys’ lips twitched slightly. “Almost?”

Feyre smiled back. “We have to think about the Court. Wouldn’t want both the High Lord and Lady out of action. It would be chaotic.”

Rhys laughed, a brittle sound.

“I’ll be right back,” Feyre said.

“Where are you going?”

She pulled the blanket up farther on her mate as his sweating turned to shivers. “I’m going to ask Cass to watch Nyx today. I don’t want him to catch it.”

“Good idea,” Rhys mumbled, his eyelids fluttering.

Feyre winnowed back. Cassian glanced up amusedly. “Did our precious High Lord get something in his throat?”

Feyre scowled. “He’s ill.”

“How ill?” Cassian asked, not buying it.

In response, Feyre entered his mind and sent over the feelings she’d experienced when she crossed Rhys’ shields.

“Fuck,” Cassian exclaimed. “Give a male a little warning next time.”

“Careful,” Feyre scolded. “You’re holding my son.”

Cassian righted himself. “He’s actually sick. Gods, I don’t think that’s happened since last century.”

A stray snort escaped the dignified high lady. “You old bastards. I was wondering how you would feel about watching Nyx today? He’s so young; I don’t know how he would handle catching what Rhys has.”

“Oh, of course.” Cass smirked and turned to Nyx. “I have some busy things to do today, little male. How would you feel about helping?”

Feyre knew this was absolute bullshit; Cassian wasn’t totally useless but he sure as hell didn’t have “busy things.”

But Nyx burbled excitedly. One of his little hands reached for a lock of Cassian’s hair and tugged, his tiny wings flapping slightly.

“It’s settled then. Your son will be learning how to run the Night Court today.”

“Right. Because that’s what you’re in charge of,” Feyre responded drying, but she couldn’t help smiling at Nyx.

Cassian grinned. “See you. Try not to get sick or I might have to keep Nyx forever.”

Feyre smiled. “Right.”

They exchanged farewells and Cassian turned toward the door of their manor. “Oh, and don’t break anything,” Feyre called after him. “And don’t break my son.”

Cassian didn’t even turn back; he just flipped Feyre off over his shoulder, holding the baby in one hand. Feyre smiled, but she wasn’t actually concerned. For all his goofing about, Cassian could be surprisingly responsible, and she knew he would take care of Nyx well. Satisfied her child was in good hands and safe from infection, she walked over to the other room.

After dismissing the staff for the day (pay still included, of course), Feyre made for the kitchen. She used her magic to light a fire under the stove and she placed a pot on top. Even with her abilities, she normally wasn’t lazy enough to use them for everything, but she wanted this going as quickly as possible.

Worried about Rhys, Feyre used her magic once more to speed along the chopping. After dumping the vegetables in the broth she’d put in, she winnowed back upstairs.

Rhys was semi-conscious, exhausted but too pained to reach sleep. “Rhys, wake up.”

Rhys moaned. “Piss off.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay like this. You’re too uncomfortable to sleep well, Rhys.” Feyre helped him sit up, countering all of his protests with promises of soup.

“You don’t need to make soup all by yourself just for me.”

A huff of breath left Feyre’s lips. “I kept my family alive for years. I know how to make soup.”

Rhys sighed in resignation. “It’s not really that bad.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t be calling five healers over and praying to the gods I don’t die if our positions were switched.”

“Fair enough. We can both be rather protective of each other. But-”

“No buts,” Feyre said firmly. “I’ll be right back with soup. Drink this in the meantime. You need lots of fluids.” She waved her hand, summoning a glass of water on their nightstand.

Rhys sighed but reached for it, which was enough for Feyre. She left the room.

Soup was ready five minutes later. Her magic had really sped up the process; she was impatient and wanting to be with her mate, who she heard coughing again. As soon as she could, Feyre made her way back upstairs.

“Hey, babe.”

Feyre snorted and made a tray appear on him lap. She set the bowl down. “Hey.”

The glass of water was still mostly full, but Rhys had taken a couple sips. Appeased, Feyre moved to the other side of the bed and sat down next to her mate.

Rhys sighed, but reached for the spoon.

As he slowly took little spoonfuls, Feyre placed her hand on his forehead, and found him without a fever. A good sign.

She began gently rubbing his back. He was cold, and Feyre let warmth deep through her fingers, courtesy of the Autumn Court’s fire in very small quantities.

Rhys sighed in content. “Maybe I should get sick every day.”

“If it’s the only way to get you to rest, I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad,” Feyre replied, smiling. Her hands kept moving on his back. “I heard last century was the last time you got sick?”

Rhys swallowed another spoonful. “I vomited on Keir.”

Feyre took a minute to process this. “You did what?”

Rhys grimaced. “I wasn’t feeling well, but I thought I’d be okay to make the trip. I clearly wasn’t.”

Feyre burst into laughter. “Oh my gods.”

“Stop that,” Rhys demanded. “You’re not supposed to make fun of me while I’m not feeling well.” His features transformed into a pout.

Feyre couldn’t stop a grin from making its way to her face. “No wonder Keir doesn’t like you.”

Rhys tried to scowl, but he smiled faintly. “I’ll admit, he was a bit more civil to me before that. Only a bit, though.”

Feyre positively cackled. “This is why I love you.”

“Because I accidentally projectile vomit on people I don’t like?”

“Precisely,” Feyre said.

More broth, as well as a small carrot, was swallowed. Rhys sighed pathetically and Feyre just watched him, still massaging his back, trying not to worry too much.

Sickness in Fae was rare, and it usually didn’t last for long, due to their strong immune systems. He must have caught it from somewhere, and Feyre decided to warn her friends later to be careful. Everyone would be fine, but having all her friends sick would be a hassle, to say the least. At least Nyx was safe; Cassian would definitely be staying away from others today. He wouldn’t admit it, but he could be overly fussy too.

Rhys slurped the rest of the broth out of the bowl, holding it up to his face, while Feyre chuckled at him. Then she sent the empty bowl away with a wave of her hand. “Time to rest, Rhys.”

Rhys just pouted at her. “I’m not tired.”

“Liar. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Rhys reluctantly let Feyre help him lie back against the pillow. Several moments later, they were both situated: Rhys was absolutely covered in blankets to fight off the chills and Feyre’s arms were around him, her magic still warming his body.

Feyre entered his mind and sent comforting thoughts over, as well as urges to rest. It didn’t take long before he was snoring.

Holding her mate, comforting him through even a mild ailment, couldn’t have felt more right. Feyre desperately wanted him to heal, and soon he would, but for now she was content to listen to him breathe and inhale his familiar scent.

As Feyre herself drifted off, she just hoped she could convince Rhys to let her in his mind and show her Keir’s expression after being vomited on. Because that was something she wanted to see.

———

Tag List:

@feysand-loml

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@infernoqueen19

[ultraviolet-ink]

17, 31, 37, 38, 55, and 98 from your AA question meme please 😄

Hell yeah!! 17. Case with the best cast? I am not immune to the powerhouse that was DGS 2-3, I am not immune to the hot Goths (next thing you know, I'm flipping off some PREPZ). In all honesty though, they're not all just super pretty but the whole UMPH of that case is amazing! Susato coming back, introducing the Masked Disciple and his real identity, that cutscene that TOTALLY caught me off guard when Barok started walking and TALKING. It was such a good prelude to what was to come and the cast really stayed so strong with the rest of the story despite not physically being present for it (ir Drebber and Sithe), like their impact was just so huge! I loved every second of it! 31. Character you wish was playable? Barok, mostly because I would play a rhythm game based on his leg slams and chalice yeets.... also I just also want an investigations game with him XD

37. Culprit that came as the biggest surprise to you? I think this would have to go to Matt Engarde, especially with how he breaks AA's formula! It really speaks to how amazing the writing for that case is, and how it all just seems to make so much sense! I replayed it recently and I just couldn't help but notice all those red flags that I missed the first time! It's a surprise that keeps on giving even after you know what's going to happen next!

38. Plottwist that came as the biggest surprise to you? Probably that Klint was Iris' father! I did accidentally get spoiled to him being the Professor, but finding out his true connection to Iris was something that surprised me so much! I never considered it before, and now it makes PERFECT sense! Iris, Lady B, Klint, and Barok are the only characters with natural hair that is impossible irl (purple and pink), everyone else has more natural hair (red, black, blond, etc.) The design team is so good at this all, I love it <3 wait, does this mean that McGilded is a secret relative too, oh nooooo xD

55. Two characters you’d like to meet? 1) Maya, because I think we would definitely get along in real life! We're both nerds, and I think she would just be super cool and chill! 2) Trucy, because she's super cool, and I would love to see her tricks play out! 98. Which character do you trust the least to pick out a movie for a movie’s night? Franziska, because she would probably choose some SUPER obscure German arthouse film that would make me fall asleep and then she would yell at me for that XD

[nastasyafilippovnas]

2 prompts. he / she will never be you, and I would rather do difficult with you than easy with someone else. For santhony

Thanks for the prompts! I chose to do the second, hope you like it! <3

santhony + “I would rather do difficult with you than easy with someone else”, set during 1.08, after Siena agrees to go with the ball with Anthony, wc. 1.9k (ao3)

She checked the time on Anthony’s pocket watch on the bedside table and groaned. Siena swore the damned thing moved faster than any normal watch. By this rate, she was going to be terribly late and wouldn't have any time for a quick warm-up before her performance tonight. 

The man to blame for her lateness stirred behind her and proceeded to place light kisses on her shoulder, his hands around her waist pulling their bodies closer, his front against her back. 

“I am not done with you yet.” He said, his mouth moving up, trailing kisses from her shoulder up to her neck and sucking on the spot just below her ear that he knew drove her crazy.

Siena couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips. 

“We can’t.” Her protest came out weaker than she would’ve liked. They had spent most of the afternoon in bed, and she still felt hunger for his touch, his warmth next to her. She had tried giving him up, but the time apart hadn’t helped at all. She wondered if there would ever be a time where she would be immune to him. It seemed unlikely. “I must get ready for my performance.”

His kisses stopped immediately, though his mouth still hovered on her neck and she could feel his breath caressing her skin as he spoke. “I thought you would get someone to cover for you. How will you be performing if we’re going to the ball?”

Siena bit her lip. He got her there. 

“Well, I thought I would do my show and meet you at the ball later.” 

Anthony frowned, though she couldn’t see it. What she proposed wasn’t unheard of. The ton’s parties were known for extending well into the evening and many people in fact attended the opera or the theater first before arriving fashionably late at whatever ball they had also be invited to. But it wasn’t what Anthony had in mind when he invited her to go with him. He was planning to meet her at her door, with the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find - he had never given her flowers before, not even to congratulate her on her performances, and he knew she would understand the importance of the gesture. They would ride on his carriage (during which he would have to contain himself to not kiss her and ruin her dress) and enter the ball together, arm in arm, so there wouldn’t be any mistakes about the current status of relationship. Then proceed to dance the night away. Just the two of them. In no part of his scenario, he expected to spend spend half of his evening sulking in a corner and waiting for her to finish her performance. And there was the way she had said it…

“But you’re still coming, right?”

“Of course!” Her voice was too high and her answer came too quickly. She realized it at the same time Anthony turned her around so he could see her face.

“Siena…” 

She tried turning back and getting out of the bed, but Anthony was faster, his hand on her chin, keeping her in place and their eyes locked. “No, don’t do that. Don’t turn away from me, Siena. Tell me…what’s going on?”

She hated when Anthony went soft on her. It made it so much harder to be logical and practical. But she knew she had to.

“Maybe going to the ball wouldn’t be the best idea.” 

“I told you, no one will say a thing.” He answered confidently, smiling at her.

Siena sat properly in the bed, his hands falling from her face to her thigh as she started speaking. 

“And I said, not to you. Not directly. But are you ready for all the gossip and the whispers? For the men commenting about how they had me, with my legs open in my dressing room?” Before Anthony could even think of defending her honor, she added, “And it will be true! In some cases at least. Are you ready for that? And the women, your mother and your sisters…maybe they won’t say anything to you. But they will say it to me.” 

Anthony sighed. Siena had always been the most pragmatical out of the two of them, his brave soprano who still didn’t call him by his first name despite sharing his bed for the last two years. And, as always, she wasn’t wrong to have concerns. He wanted them to have their happy ending. It wouldn’t be as easy, or as painless, as he had initially told her, but it would be worth it. Of that, he was certain.

“Is that what you’re worried about? The gossip?"

She bit her lip. It wasn’t. Not exactly. Being the talk of the ton would be nothing new - she was the most notorious opera singer in London, after all -, and it would have been worth it. If she had been certain of the outcome, that is. 

She wasn’t.  

“You can change your mind, my lord. At anytime.” Before Anthony could contest, she continued, “You did it already! You promised you would always take care of me! And you changed your mind.” Regret quickly crossed his face and Siena could feel the tears forming in her eyes at the reminder of that morning, when he had tossed her aside as if she had been nothing more than an inconvenience. It wouldn’t do to start crying now. She was stronger than that.

“Right now, you’re happy we’re back together and you think we can overcome anything. What’s going to happen when everyone you know and respects turns against us?” 

“You're right.” Anthony answered quickly and Siena couldn’t hide her surprise. She had wanted him to come to his senses and agree with her, of course she did. His idea had been utter foolishness after all, born out of the high of being in each other’s arms once more. But she had expected him to at least put up a fight. It was okay, though. It only confirmed she had been right all along. She wasn’t disappointed. She wasn’t.

“Of course I am. So we can forget ever going public…”

“You're right that it won’t be as easy as I said.” He interrupted her. “Me being a viscount…my sister being a duchess…none of that will stop the talk of the ton. In fact, my mother might be the one to most strongly oppose us being together.” Anthony couldn’t hide his grimace. His mother’s reaction to his choice was the one thing he had tried to avoid thinking about at all costs. Violet Bridgerton wouldn’t give up just because he and Siena went to the Hastings’ ball together. As a matter of fact, it might only serve as further motivation on her relentless pursuit of a suitable bride for her first-born. He could count on Benedict to be on his side (his brother was pursuing Siena’s closest friend, after all) and Eloise’s curious nature would endear Siena to her, he hoped. But what about Colin? Would his brother be accepting of their relationship, when Anthony had so adamantly opposed his engagement to Miss Thompson? And Daphne and Simon, would they come to his aid as he expected, or would they worry about their own status first? Simon only referred to Siena as his mistress and Daphne wanted nothing more than to be a proper lady of the ton. Maybe neither of them wouldn’t be willing drag the Hastings' name into another scandal just for Anthony’s sake. His own family might not offer the support he craved, though he hoped they would come to understand his decision. He couldn’t keep hurting his own heart in the name of duty and honor. “It won’t be easy. But, Siena, I would rather do difficult with you than easy with someone else.” 

She shook her head. “You don’t mean that, my lord. You can’t mean that.”

Anthony let out a small laugh of incredulity, “Can’t I? And may I ask, why not?”

Siena opened and closed her mouth, at loss for words. Before she could come up with an answer, though, Anthony's hands enveloped her waist and he pulled her back to the bed and on top of him, kissing her quickly in the mouth. Surprised, it took her a moment to respond, but he was already pulling away, though his arms remained around her, his hands positioned low on her back.

“I know what this is.” He said, smiling at her. “You're scared. Scared I’m going to leave again, break things off once more and let you deal with these people’s snide comments on your own. That I’m going to see you the same way they do and I’ll turn away.” Her brown eyes looked at him with surprise and she wondered if she was indeed so transparent or if he just knew her that well. Sometimes she dreamed of the life she and Anthony could have together. More often than not, these dreams turned sour as the Anthony in them realized she would never be more than a lowly opera singer, only good for entertaining him at night between the sheets. 

“One day you will.” She murmured softly against his chest.

“No, no, never.” He protested, holding her face up, and hoping she could see the truth in his eyes and in his voice. “Siena, I wish you could see yourself as I do. The most talent, incredible, funny, smart woman I’ve ever met. There’s no one but you. Not for me. I’m sorry that I hurt you and made you ever doubt that.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and Anthony saw a single tear escape as she sighed, her hands on his chest shaking for a moment. “You make it so hard for me to do the right thing.” 

He kissed her cheek where the tear had dried before turning towards her mouth and kissing her again, hard and desperate. 

“I want you to do the right thing for us. For us and no one else.” His hand was in her hair, their heads as close together as they could without touching. “Choose us, Siena.” 

It sounded so simple when he said it. He made her believe anything was possible. But she knew this thing between them was fragile, powerful and uncontainable, yes, but fragile. It had been broken and mended together by sheer force of will, and any strong push could shatter it for good. If they wanted it survive and flourish, then they first had to protect it. 

“I can’t go to the ball with you. Not tonight.” She saw the disappointment flash through his eyes and be replaced by a mask of cold indifference as he nodded in understanding, already starting to pull away from her. 

“But I am not going to the opera either”, she quickly added and Anthony looked at her in confusion.

“I thought…maybe we could stay in tonight? We can have dinner with your brother and Genevieve later.” 

Siena looked at him expectantly.

A compromise, that’s what she proposed. Maybe they weren’t ready for the harsh light of day and the deep cutting remarks of society, but it didn’t mean they would never be. In the mean time, they could allow a little light in as they grew stronger in the dark.

“I suppose…Benedict and Madame Delacroix shall make for a decent conversation.” He answered and the smile Siena gave him was so bright it was almost blinding. “As long as you’re by my side, my lady.” 

And, because he knew she would, Anthony kissed her before she could voice her protest over his choice of endearment.

[sailorshadzter]

Prompt: Ancient! Rome AU: After the Starks were branded as traitors Sansa becomes a political hostage of emperor Joffrey and is expected to marry him, however her hatred for him increases each passing day as he forces her to watch the gory executions of her people in form of gladiator fights. One day a new gladiator enters the coliseum: it's Jon

id like to start out by saying i KNOW NOTHING of this time period LOL

but its always been a time period ive been interested in and someday when im not so obsessed with the tudor era in england, ill read about something else. tbh i kind of want to get some more info because as ive finished writing this piece, im entertaining the idea of continuing it. maybe just a part 2 because i have another idea! 

ANYWAYS. thanks for the request. i hope you enjoy :)  

ps. its set with the backstory of jon being a stark/targ, but rather than being raised among the starks, he’s raised among the night’s watch. 

send me prompts

Another day, another summons to join Joffrey in the stadium.

Sansa sighs but does her best to smile for the man in her doorway, for she knows any sense of displeasure would be told to the emperor without hesitation. The man, seemingly satisfied with her response, bows and backs out from the room, allowing the door to slam closed behind.

When she's alone, all of the fight leaves her and she sinks into the nearest chair, head in hands. Yet another day where she's to be forced to witness the gruesome violence that is the gladiator colosseum. Every drop of blood is a reminder of her father's execution, every hour spent in the crowd only more fuel for her nightmares. "My lady... perhaps you are feeling unwell this morning?" It's Shae, her ever loyal handmaiden, prompting her with an excuse she might use to get out of the day's events. But Sansa smiles for her lady and shakes her head, instead rising up from the chair. She is braver than that, than running away from what frightens her.

She might yet be betrothed to a tyrant, chained to a family that had the rest of her's murdered in cold blood... But she was a Stark, through and through, and though she was so very far from the North, she could feel the strength that her home offered. I am a Stark, she thinks as Shae begins to undress her from her nightgown, I am strong because I am a Stark.

She was a Stark and so she would be brave.

[ x x x ]

He can hear the crowd shouting, screaming, gasping.

The horror of it all, this gladiator colosseum , even for a seasoned soldier such as himself is tough to take. He's heard of it of course, even way up North in the midst of the Night's Watch, they know some of what goes on in the South. He's heard the rumors of the mad ruler Joffrey, who prefers violence to peace, who abuses the lowest of servants and most noble of knights. There is no one who is immune to the emperor's temper- save for maybe his mother, the golden haired Lannister queen who ruled alongside his father for many of the last twenty years.

Suddenly, the crowd is roaring and Jon feels his stomach turn over. A moment later, the door that leads out into the stadium flies open and before anyone can speak, he knows what's happening. "Your turn." A gruff voice says a moment before he's shoved out the door and into the sunlight.

All around him, eyes are staring down at him; they scream and they stomp their feet, eager to see the blood bath continue on. In front of him, Jon meets gazes with his opponent, an undefeated mountain of a man, who's chest is smeared with blood that is most certainly not his own. Jon gulps. He's skilled enough of a fighter, but against this brute seems impossible. And from the state of the battefield, from the rumors of this man's strength... Jon has to wonder if this will be his end. After everything he's seen, after everything that he's done... This is where it all will come to and end.

From where she sits beside Joffrey in the emperor's box, Sansa sees the newest recruit come out into the stadium center. Her breath catches in her throat- she's seen hair like that before and it certainly wasn't there in the South. Beside Joffrey, ser Merryn leans in to speak to him. "From the North," he says, shooting a sidelong glance at the young woman seated beside the emperor. Sure enough, as Sansa had thought, this was a man from the North, from her home. But how, she wonders, watching the man as he squares up in front of Joffrey's champion, the Mountain, how has a Northern man ended up here?

"Ah, one of those black crows, eh?" Joffrey asks, green eyes flashing with danger in the sunlight. "Do you know him, sweet lady?" His eyes are upon her instead and for a moment, she freezes. "He looks like your traitor father." Joffrey goes on, gesturing towards the gladiator that now raises a sword as the battle prepares to begin. "But all your traitor brothers are dead, so I imagine it's just another piss poor criminal from Wintertown." Joffrey turns away from her then, back to facing the fight that's just begun.

[ x x x ]

One more swing, one more!

He's pushing himself, harder and further than he's ever pushed himself before. For the first time in all his life, he's thankful for his short stature, giving him ample opportunity over the beast of a man he's facing. Where the man is slow, Jon is quick. His agile movements are too much for him and Jon knows by the end of the third round that if he gets the right chance, he might actually survive.

Now it's the sixth round and Jon knows the final moment must come.

And so he puts it all into this last swing- a quick upper cut movement that catches the Mountain off guard- and for the several moments after he lands back on his feet, Jon isn't certain he's managed to pull it off. But then he glances at his sword- it's stained crimson and dripping. Behind him, he hears the man stagger and then, the crowd goes silent as he falls to his knees and then to the ground. Dead.

Then... The crowd erupts.

[ x x x ]

It's no more than a few minutes when he's approached by the man in charge of the gladiators and another man, well dressed and fair-haired. "You, boy." The gladiator barks, catching Jon's attention where he stands, mid-wiping the blood from his hands. "Come with us."

"To where?" Jon asks, dark gaze sharper than his voice. "I was told if I won I would have my freedom back." He only longs to return North, to find Ghost and live out his days in a place where no one might ever find him.

"And your freedom you shall have," the second man speaks, his green eyes bright in the sunlight that streams in through the nearby open window. "As winner in the stadium, you have the great honor of meeting our emperor." He continues, gesturing for him to take a left down the corridor and towards a door that leads up a set up stairs, which sure enough as he climbs up them Jon can hear the emperor's harsh laughter.

Stepping through the doorway, Jon is lead across the way to where the emperor sits, but it is not the man that catches Jon's interest first. Rather, it is a young woman with hair a shade of vibrant red that seems quite out of sorts among these blonde and brunette southerners. He's seen that shade of hair color before, a Tully born boy who had once joined the ranks of the Night's Watch had hair of the same shade. But beyond the color of her hair... She was beautiful. So beautiful that when she turns to face him, the breath is stolen from his lungs. Her eyes are clear and blue, but lovely as they might be, he finds their gaze to be sad, the eyes of a woman lost.

"So you've defeated my champion."

The sharp voice belongs to the emperor, who Jon has quite honestly forgotten was there. He turns to face the man instead, though he's hesitant to tear his gaze from the lovely woman at his side. "Aye, so I have." Jon replies, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. "It was that or die. I preferred the first option." For a second, there is only silence, until Joffrey lets out a laugh that startles those around them.

"A jester are you, crow?" Joffrey takes a step closer to where Jon stands and it's only then that Jon notices the striking resemblance between him and the man that had led him up to where he stands now. "You would make a far better champion." Now Jon knows where this is going. "I can make you a wealthy man, far wealthier than your meager coins made in the ranks of the crows." He's offering him a choice- to stay and be his new champion of the gladiator colosseum , or... "Or you may go, it is the law of the colosseum and I am a man of my word." Beside him, the young woman flinches, but it is so quick that Jon is certain he's the only one who's noticed. "But be my champion, I will give you all the wealth you could dream of."

For what feels like a lifetime, Jon stands there, silent and still. Only moments ago, his answer had been strong, had been absolute. But now that he stands there in the presence of this young woman, something is nagging at him. Something about her is calling out to him and despite it all, he wants to heed her call. He doesn't even know her name, but with that single glance, she's set fire to his heart and soul.

And so, he nods; he will be the emperor's new champion.

[thegc4life]

Oh my, I wasn't expecting a quick response! You honestly made my day ☺️ & I would LOVE to hear the ideas you've got cooking for your FFXV story! (Also, the starlight reader tag under my first ask made my heart flutter. Thank you so much, my long shift suddenly seems bearable now ❤️)

I’m glad I could make your day a little better, it sounds like you needed it. You are now dubbed the starlight Anon. Cause you’re a bright little spot of starlight!

I went back into my doc (so MUCH) and wow, I was really close to being down with the next chapter. I’ll put it under the cut for you, love. If anyone else is interested this was going to be the majority of the next chapter of the fic “Last Chance” for FFXV. Where Umbra and Pryna take matters into their own hands.

Libertus knocked on the door, ignoring the side-eyes the guards were giving him.

“...Come in.”

He frowned at the heavy rasp. It sounded worse than usual. Twisting the doorknob he strolled in, nudging the door closed behind him. “You sound like crap.”

“Thank you, Libertus,” Umbra smiled at him from where he was curled up in his bed with a book. 

“Welcome,” Libertus grinned.

Umbra huffed, lips twitching a bit higher. “Did you need something?”

He shrugged, plopping himself down in the chair next to the bed. “Not really. Nyx is busy, Selena is helpin’ out in the kitchens today I think since she wasn’t in ‘er room, and I don’t have anything to do.”

“So you are bored.”

“Pretty much.”

Umbra nodded, closing the book and setting it on his nightstand. Libertus glanced at the headache medicine next to the glass of water also resting there.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sick before.”

Umbra blinked at him. “...I have a strong immune system. It doesn’t happen often.”

“That sucks,” he stretched out, propping his feet up on the bed next to him. “You can’t see the little princeling til’ you’re better right?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I am not contagious but no one wants to risk his or mother’s health.”

He looked genuinely regretful. Libertus got it. His little brother had just been born yesterday and, with how hard it looked for him to let go of the baby when it was time for checkups, it probably really sucked to have to stay away from him.

“When Selena was born Nyx wouldn’t let go of her for days,” Libertus shared. “Even when his mom made him go to bed she’d wake up and find him curled up in her crib with her.”

Umbra leaned back into his pillows, eyes warm. “He loves her very much.”

“Oh yeah,” he agreed. “We both do. She’s an awesome kid, you know? This one time, after Nyx’s mom died and we were alone, we needed a way ta’ make money. Nyx kept tryn’ to get small jobs from the market but no one would hire him on for longer than a day. I kept tryn’ to get construction stuff cause that paid pretty well but I was too small back then so no one even gave me a second glance. We came back with nothin’, just like usual, and Selena wasn’t there.” He laughed suddenly, putting his foot down and leaning forwards. “You know how Nyx is always the one tellin’ me to calm down?”

“He is a very calming influence on you,” Umbra nodded.

“Uh,” Libertus paused, processing. “Yeah? Yeah, that. Anyways, he was not when she disappeared like that. I seriously thought was gonna kill someone, he was so mad.”

Umbra brought his knees up to his chest so he could rest his chin on them, smiling warmly. “Where did you find her?”

“Oh, we didn’t find shit,” Libertus laughed. He was glad Nyx wasn’t there to get mad at him for using ‘inappropriate language’ around the Prince. “She strolled right back home when she was good an’ ready. An’ Nyx was about to have a heart attack, he was runnin’ around like his head had been cut off!”

“And I’m sure you were very calm yourself,” Umbra said, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Libertus squinted at him. “I mighta been a little worried, sure, but the town was pretty calm back then. I figured wherever she was, someone in town was watchin’ out for her. Nyx wouldn’t hear it though. He was bangin’ on doors, demandin’ if people had seen her anywhere. Then, right before he damn near broke through old man Relis’ door she came skippin’ down the street with her little basket Nyx had woven for her. It was full of food and some cloth to make new clothes. Nyx and I damn near lost our minds.”

Umbra blinked slowly, his face relaxed as he curled in further over his legs. “How did she get all of that?”

“By being a little shit, that’s how!” Libertus laughed, leaning back. “She went around to all the market stores and houses with people that had more work than they had hands, offerin’ her own for just a little of what they had to spare, and when they tried to turn her down she guilted the hell out of em’! Told em’ that if they didn’t even try to help out the kids of Galahd then they’d end up with a town full of old folk and no one else until the whole place just fell apart. And that if the kids didn’t starve they’d up and leave for a place that took care of their own better than our shit hole.”

Umbra huffed, blinking less and less because his eyes were staying closed more and more. “I doubt they took that very well.”

Libertus smiled even wider, his heart going all warm and tingly. Because Umbra was right, Selena had pissed everyone off saying stuff like that. Galahd was huge on making sure everyone was cared for and looked after, as best they could be with what they had, so when Selena had told them otherwise they’d all felt insulted to their cores. Not a lot of people had anything to offer back then, even less as the years went on, but Selena made sure that their people stuck to their codes with a backbone of steel and the mouth of an Imp. It was hard, looking out for people when you needed looking out for, but that’s just how Galahd people were. They just needed some reminding from time to time, and Selena took to that job like a fish to water.

It was nice to see that Umbra knew that. Not a lot of city folk did.

“They were pissed,” Libertus nodded, scooting forwards when Umbra swayed a bit to the side. “Gave her all these odd an’ end kind of jobs just to shut her up and then gave her whatever they could spare in return. I don’t know anyone else that can get people to pay em’ out of pure spite like Selena can. They started givin’ Nyx and I some of those small jobs too, and even the other kids started helpin’ out. It made everyone come together again after everything. Selena is the meanest hero I’ve ever met.”

Umbra hummed, low and soft. His eyes were still closed. “...I’d love to meet her.”

“You will,” Libertus assured him. “Don’t know how you two haven’t met yet, honestly. With how much time Nyx and I spend with you and how often she hears about you I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked down your door just to know who the hell we’re talking about.”

Selena’s job in the kitchens always kept her busy (but she never complained, a spring in her step when she would come back with flour stains on her hands and crumbs in her hair) and the Glaive schedule was a ‘round-the-clock’ kind of thing so besides bedtime they never really had time to hang out with all three of them. Nyx would hang out with Selena in the kitchens in the mornings and Libertus would sneak her away for lunch, but other than that they were just too busy. 

Umbra blinked blearily, his eyes a muted dark yellow. “...Next time you have training. Invite her.”

“Sure,” Libertus said even though he knew Selena was always hard at work when they trained and Umbra was usually doing his own training with the Queen. Umbra said stuff like that sometimes. Things that wouldn’t normally work but always somehow did when he said so. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nyx and I got lost in the gardens and this bird tried to eat my ear?”

Umbra breathed out softly from his nose, an approximation of a very tired laugh. “No.”

“Okay,” Libertus said, raring up for another story. “So we had the afternoon off cause you were doin’ somethin’ with your Dad, I don’t remember but it sounded boring, and Captain Drautos was in some meeting so Pelna told us to go enjoy ourselves. So Nyx, of course, picks the gardens cause they’re gods damned beautiful and we don’t even realize when one wall of plants starts looking like the next.”

As he talks he can’t quite help the slight laughter in his voice when Umbra turns sideways into his pillows and drops straight into a dead sleep. He really was a little kid. Talking someone to sleep was exactly what he had to do to Selena whenever she got sick and Nyx wasn’t around to sing to her.

Libertus kept talking, even as he pulled the blankets up around the boy’s shoulders. Nyx had mentioned that Umbra didn’t seem to be sleeping even though he was sick. Umbra was usually real good about doing what needed to be done to keep his body in tip-top shape so he wasn’t quite sure why the brat would fight sleep now of all times, but germs made you think weird so it didn’t really matter.

Libertus placed the back of his hand on Umbra’s forehead, frowning a bit at the heat. Luckily it looked like everything he needed was on the bedside table so he wouldn’t have to leave until dinner time. He’d seen one of the ladies in charge of cleaning and stuff on the way in so they’d probably be back a little before then to give Umbra whatever medicine he needed. It would be just like looking after Selena, only quieter and less likely to give him a heart attack cause Umbra knew not to sneak out of the room to work if Libertus just so happened to doze off. 

Hopefully.

Wringing out a washcloth that had been soaking in the little metal bowl of iced water Libertus set it on Umbra’s head and chattered on. Background noise and a familiar voice calmed Nyx down when he was having problems falling asleep, and judging by the peaceful expression on Umbra’s face it was helping him too.

“The last time Nyx got sick I almost knocked him out just to keep him down. Selena nearly pulled out all her hair too. Nyx is such a pain in the ass when he’s sick cause he refuses to believe he’s actually sick! Even when he’s passin’ out or throwing up his entire stomach he’s all ‘I’m not sick, you two are just paranoid’. Paranoid my ass. I could sneeze and he’d have me strapped to my bed with no escape but he coughs up his own damned lung and it’s all ‘oh no Libertus, this is normal. I always cough up organs, haven’t you noticed’?”

Umbra burrowed further into his blankets.

Libertus took that as an agreement.

--00—

“Ughhh,” Pryna groaned miserably. She flopped to the side for what had to be the fiftieth time before rolling back to her original position. Why was it so hard to get comfortable? 

“I warned you there would be consequences,” Umbra told her, sounding perfectly fine. “With physical bodies, we can not just push the fluctuating Time to the side, it will affect us more strongly now.”

Pryna blinked around her room blearily, making sure she was actually alone because it was so hard to focus and Luna had tried to sneak in multiple times now. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” she said, pressing her palms to her eyes in an attempt to relieve the pressure built there. Her face burned beneath her hands. She could talk to him in her head, but the effort to transfer her thoughts just felt like too much. She missed the connection they had when they had full access to their core. She didn’t have to think so much to talk to him, she just had to feel and he would know. Human bodies were stupid.

“Because you learn better through experience. It won’t last long, half a day at most, but let this teach you to always keep in mind the result of our interference.”

“Will this happen every time we change things?” Pryna whined. She didn’t like the sound of that. They had big plans, they couldn’t get laid out like this (or worse) every time they needed to make a move.

“No, only when we use our magic too much. I know it feels like we are drastically weaker now due to our fractional magical supply, but what we have now is still a great strain on our physical forms. Simple things such as pausing or Seeing will not harm us in moderation, but focused skills and spacial creation will drastically affect our bodies. Freezing and slowing Aulea’s Time is simple enough, but our bodies will need the adjustment period all the same.”

Pryna frowned. She prodded at their shared magical core. It was like a giant wall was placed between them and it, only small amounts filtering to them in order not to overload them. The amount filtered to Umbra was a bit bigger. “But… you never actually stop Seeing. Won’t that make you sick all the time?”

“It would, if I were in your shoes. The Fleuret family is very magically gifted, but not nearly to the same degree as the line of Lucis. It is why your illness is so much more poignant than mine. I tried to separate the recoil as best I could but with sharing the same magic it is nearly impossible to split so definitely.”

“So that’s why we’re filling flasks,” Pryna realized. She had thought it was a little odd, placing small fractions of their magic into little magical flasks and storing them in a pocket dimension, but she had just thought it was a way Umbra had made up for her to practice her control. She shattered the vials often enough, putting too much into them, so it had made sense. “So we can use that magic instead of our main reserves.”

Umbra hummed in response. “For the most part. The flasks have many potential uses but by separating them from ourselves it makes them a little more volatile. We can’t use them for things that need absolute focus to maintain.”

“Like helping Aulea.”

“Yes.”

Pryna crossed her arms, before realizing that made her shoulders ache even more. She flopped them back to her sides, glaring at the ceiling. “I want to be able to do more too.”

“I know,” he sounded amused. “But with your control, the less is better for now. As you grow your body will be able to withstand more and you will be able to utilize it better as well.”

Pryna used to think it was unfair that she had to be limited in what she could do and try when Umbra had started out with no limiters whatsoever. She’d complained about it a lot, when she was first exploring their magic. Then, when she snapped at him for stopping her again, he had looked so sad and hurt she’d apologized on instinct. He’d said that the mistakes he made when he wasn’t even aware of what he was truly doing were irrevocable and he refused to let her make the same. She’d still felt a little cheated, but the more she learned the less angry she was.

Time could be scary sometimes.

The door creaked open and Pryna groaned.

Umbra laughed. “Try to get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

He was one to talk. Pryna knew he felt just as nervous as her, falling asleep in these weaker forms. They could still See, when they were asleep, but they could never See themselves. It made them feel vulnerable, and now that they were sick the feeling was multiplied tenfold.

Reikin walked in with a tray in his hands.

“Dad,” Pryna croaked, smiling up at him. She perked up even more when Ravus walked in and closed the door behind them. A small thump told her that Luna was on the other side, probably upset that she’d been locked out. “Ravus! Are you supposed to be in here?”

“Just for a bit,” Reikin answered for his son, voice soft and quiet. “I thought you’d like a bit of company. Can’t be too much fun, all cooped up in here.”

“It’s awful,” Pryna sniffed. “I hate being sick. I don’t know how you all handle it.”

Ravus rolled his eyes, rolling her around gently to get the blankets out from under her. “I can’t believe this is the first time you’ve ever gotten sick.”

Pryna stuck her tongue at him. It was probably thanks to Umbra. He was always telling her when to stop using their magic and how much to use. Which was only fair seeing as how he hadn't told her about it making them feel horrible if they used too much!

“Hmmm,” Reikin brushed her bangs back, resting his hand on her head while balancing the tray in his other arm. Pryna leaned into the cool touch, closing her eyes. “Your fever has gone down a bit. That’s good. Do you feel up to eating?”

She definitely did not but Umbra would get all huffy if she didn’t. It was kind of hard to remember to eat all the time (until her stomach clenched and yelled at her, that was so weird) but he always told her it was important. That rule probably still stood even if her stomach already felt like it was full of rocks.

“I guess,” she said, pushing herself up. Ravus helped her stuff the pillows behind her back, crawling up next to her and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “...I love you Ravus.”

He snorted, tucking all of her hair behind her and out of the way. “I love you too. Now eat.”

Reikin sat on the edge next to them, helping her with the bowl of soup. They all hung their heads when the door swung open and tiny feet barreled towards the bed.

“Luna,” Reikin sighed, reaching down to scoop her up. “You can’t be in here my little moon, you’ll get sick.”

Luna looked like she wanted to cry, which made Pryna want to cry.

“I want to help,” Luna clasped her hands together, looking towards Pryna with wide, watery eyes. “You’re hurting.”

“Not anymore!” Pryna pumped her fist in the air, grinning through the aches and pains. “I feel better every time you smile, I think it’s magic!”

Luna, never one to call Pryna out for being a liar, smiled immediately.

“Ohhh,” Pryna looked at her arms in wonder. “How did you do that? I feel so much better!”

Ravus tapped her head. “Stop moving, you’ll make yourself worse.”

“You’re right,” Pryna nodded, settling back against him. “I shouldn’t waste Luna’s healing magic. Right, Luna?”

“Right,” she beamed.

A heavy, exasperated sigh drew their eyes back to the door for the fourth time. Sylva looked unimpressed.

“You three,” she narrowed her eyes at the ones that were not currently bedridden. “I explicitly told you not to come in here.”

“Darling,” Reikin stood, Luna still cradled in his arms. “I was just bringing Pryna her food and-”

“No,” she held up a finger to stop him, stepping in so she could shoo them all out. “The three of you have terrible immune systems. I told you I would handle her food, you need to go wash your hands.”

“Sylva-” 

“Out,” she commanded, lifting Ravus straight out of the bed (Pryna giggled at the startled squeaking sound he made) and readjusting the pillow so Pryna could sit back again. Three pairs of sad eyes stared at her when the door closed in their faces. “Honestly, I turn my back for one second.”

Pryna laughed.

Sylva turned to her, one eyebrow raised. “And you are no better. I know you do not want them to worry, but if you push yourself this will only last longer.”

“Okay mom.”

Sylva’s face softened. She took Reikin’s spot at the side of the bed, settling the bowl of soup into her own hands.

“How are you feeling sweetie?”

Pryna smiled, feeling warm in the best way all the way down to her toes. “Better.”

“Good,” Sylva offered her the spoon. “Let’s keep it that way.”

Pryna was eventually able to doze off with Sylva’s fingers carding through her hair and a lullaby in the air. 

She guessed sleeping wasn’t so bad. Not when there was someone nearby to watch over them.

--00—

One of the best things about the birth of the youngest Lucian Prince was that it made Nyx’s job much, much easier. In the Citadel it wasn’t like there was a lot he really needed to watch out for, and being surrounded by a hefty amount of both Crownsguard and Kings Glaives meant the chances of anything happening were low. The only thing Nyx really had to worry about was finding Umbra and then keeping it that way. Which, admittedly, also wasn’t very hard because for some reason while Umbra would often disappear on most of his guards (the stories shared at mealtimes were both ridiculous and a bit unbelievable) he rarely, if ever, ditched out on Nyx or Libertus. He wasn’t sure about the reasons but looking at the faces of any guard that wasn’t Alec (who Libertus was convinced had a tracking device placed on the Prince) he decided it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

It was still a trial and a half to find Umbra though. 

At least, it was until Prince Noctis was born. As soon as Umbra’s fever had broken he had been in the medical wing with the Queen and his new little brother. Then, when Noctis was moved to his own nursery room, Umbra trailed after. Wherever the newborn was, Umbra was sure to be there too.

The shared looks of relief between Guards and Glaives when they realized they now had a sure-fire way to track the eldest son was both hilarious and relieving (who knew that one of the best ways to bring two very different types of people together was to make them watch a child with so much wanderlust it was like he was trying to float right out of his own body). 

Nyx counted off in his head the four different locations Umbra was most likely to be. It was after lunch so he wouldn’t be with the Queen. She was still recovering from giving birth so she was typically only awake around meal times. He was pretty sure the King had a Council Meeting so neither Prince would be with him (even though Umbra seemed pretty intent on getting involved in those). He’d already checked Umbra’s room and found it empty, so the only other likely place for him to be was the nursery.

Hopping from ledge to ledge Nyx flipped his way to the eastern wing. When he landed on the ground outside the nursery door Alec waved at him in greeting. The other Guard was a tall, stone-faced woman Nyx had seen around a few times. She didn’t talk much. Or ever. Libertus thought she was a mech.

“Hey Nyx,” Alec smiled, tired and warm. “Here to switch with Libertus?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said. “You look tired.”

Alec scratched at the scruff along his face, blinking slowly. “That obvious? My sister’s been real sick lately. I’ve been trying to help out with her kid whenever I’m off.”

Nyx frowned. Hadn’t his sister gotten sick over a week ago? “...She okay?”

Alec shrugged, his face blank. “Hope so. I’m off soon actually, they got that new kid taking over for me. You’ve met Morgan Dires, right?”

Nyx held back a snort. “Yeah. He’s…”

“Nervous?” Alec smiled teasingly. “He’s a good kid. Just thinks too much. Mind keeping an eye on him for me?”

“Thought I was here to watch the Prince,” Nyx joked.

“Tell the Prince that,” Alec rolled his eyes fondly. “He’s been pretty lazy today though. Hasn’t left this room since noon.”

Nyx glanced at his watch (standard issue and more expensive than anything he had ever owned before). It was a little after 3.

“Before you leave,” Nyx looked up at the tall man, “stop by the kitchens and ask for Selena. Tell her I sent you and she’ll make you some Galahd soup. It clears up just about anything and it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Yeah?” Alec smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Nyx resisted the urge to bat the hand away. Alec had been one of the few people that treated him and Libertus like normal people when they first arrived, and he never cared that they weren’t from the Crown City. He always listened to Libertus and showed interest in their culture in ways none of the other Guards did. He was a good man.

“Yeah, she’ll help you out. Might talk your ear off though. Her mouth is worse than Libertus’ so you’ve been warned.”

“Thanks,” Alec smiled.

Nyx shrugged. It was a kindness done for a kindness.

Nodding to Alec and the Guardswoman (who stared straight ahead, unblinking as always) he opened the door. 

Libertus was in his face, patting his arm and out the door before he could so much as say hello.

“Gotta pee, have fun, he’s super boring today!” Libertus shouted all the way down the hall.

Nyx pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. One day, one day Libertus would be aware of the people around him. One day.

Umbra was sprawled out over a collection of pillows and blankets, leaned back so that Noctis could rest on his chest with one hand on his back protectively and the other holding a book against his knee.

“Hello Nyx,” Umbra greeted, not looking up.

“Hey. You planning on letting him go anytime soon?” Nyx smirked.

Umbra looked up from his book, thumb absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles into the baby’s back. “He can’t do much right now anyway.”

“Yeah,” Nyx conceded, “but you’ve been here for about three hours now and I bet you haven’t put him down once.”

Umbra rested his head on Noctis’, closing his eyes. “My tutor mentioned that babies have a particular scent that evokes protective instincts and emotional attachment in the people around them. I wasn’t prepared for how strong it would be.”

Nyx snorted. “I can see that.”

Noctis sniffed, giving one soft yawn before turning even further into Umbra’s chest. Nyx watched Umbra melt even further into the pillows and thought about Selena. 

“There’s some coloring books over there,” Umbra murmured into the light tufts of Noctis’ hair, eyes blinking open and glancing to the table against the wall near the crib. “Libertus was bored.”

Of course he was. Nyx walked over to the desk, smiling down at the half-colored pages of fish and animals.

“He didn’t even finish one,” Nyx thumbed through the top book. It was clearly designed for young children. The first ten pages were randomly colored.

“He doesn’t seem to like hobbies that make him sit,” Umbra said. “Perhaps something that uses his hands more.”

“He likes knitting,” Nyx said, tearing out one of the pictures of a Chocobo and tucking it carefully into his jacket for Selena. “And carving.”

“Mh,” Umbra hummed. Nyx glanced over at him. He was curled on his side now, Noctis resting on a large pillow next to him. Umbra had his arm wrapped around the youngest Prince to keep him in place. “What do you enjoy?”

“Not sure,” Nyx shrugged, walking to the window and leaning against the wall. He pulled out one of his daggers and practiced flipping it from one hand to the other. “I never really had time to relax and figure that kind of thing out. Libertus took up things to help me and Selena out after Mom died, and Selena only got into cooking to keep us alive. I did a lot of the grunt work so anything that required a ‘finer touch’ I left to them.”

“You have time now,” Umbra said, sighing contentedly. “You should find something before that changes.”

Nyx frowned a bit. “...Things gonna change a lot?”

One yellow eye peered open, staring at him for a moment before closing again. “The older we get the busier you will be.”

Nyx turned back to the window. That was true. Now that Umbra had completed the Crystal’s Ceremony he would be recognized by the Council and King as a true member of the royal family. With how eager Umbra was to jump into everything Nyx was sure his days would become a lot more hectic.

If Umbra was hard to keep track of in the Citadel what would it be like when he had access to the city as well?

...He didn’t want to think about that.

Nyx sighed. He’d been here for less than thirty minutes and he was already feeling restless. One look at Umbra told him that both Princes were sleeping soundly now and would be for the foreseeable future. He was used to roaming the Citadel all the time, or at least listening in on Umbra’s lessons. Umbra never napped until Noctis was born. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t go talk to Alec (or Dires) because of their guard set up so he had to stay in the room, he wasn’t big on coloring, and flipping his knives around would only keep him mentally active for so long. 

Nyx paced around the room, picking up the few toys that had been lying around. The little Princeling already had more toys than Selena had ever seen in her life but it made sense. He couldn’t get mad at the kid for being born into a better life than others. That’s just how life was sometimes.

Another half-hour passed and Nyx was debating on borrowing Umbra’s book while he slept.

Noctis whined.

Nyx ambled over, looking down at the pair.

Tiny blue eyes looked up at him curiously.

“Hey there,” Nyx whispered, crouching down. “You done napping?”

Noctis yawned, showing off his gums. He started to wiggle a bit, one hand nearly punching Umbra in the eye.

“Careful there Highness,” Nyx pushed the little arms away gently. He jumped when Umbra’s hand clamped around his wrist.

Eight-year-olds are not intimidating. 

The eight-year-old holding his wrist like he was about to snap it, glaring up at him with eyes too slitted to be normal, was. 

Umbra blinked. His face relaxed, pupils widening. “...Nyx.”

“Yeah?” Nyx said, trying not to sound like his heart had just jumped into his throat.

Umbra released his wrist, yawning into his shoulder. Noctis batted at his face and he smiled. “It’s time for him to eat. Let’s go to the kitchens, they should have everything ready.”

“Okay.”

Nyx stepped back to let Umbra stretch and get ready to go. He tapped slowly along the side of his leg, forcing his heart to calm down and match the steadier tempo. That had been… startling. Libertus sometimes woke up swinging because he didn’t know where he was or what was going on. Selena would shake awake from her nightmares and stare at him blankly until her brain processed what was around her. Those made his heart race too, but not like this.

“Shall we?” Umbra tilted his head towards the door, polite smile in place and Noctis cradled in his arms with a soft blanket. The baby Prince was making short, burbling sounds that had Umbra humming in response. It was like the last few seconds hadn’t happened at all.

Nyx opened the door for them.

“Prince Umbra!” Morgan saluted sharply, twitching at the sudden appearance. “And young Prince Noctis! Are we going somewhere?”

“Hello Guardsman Dires,” Umbra greeted, shifting Noctis more comfortably in his arms. Nyx wondered how often he’d shooed away the nursemaids throughout the day, seeing as how he hadn’t ever really seen them around when Umbra was with the princeling. “I offer my gratitude for taking over Guardsman Nollan’s duties.”

Morgan flushed to his ears. “I-It was no trouble at all Your Highness, I am always happy to serve.”

Nyx snorted, drawing the anxiety-ridden guard’s attention to him.

“Ulric,” Morgan scowled.

“Dires,” Nyx tipped his head.

“Your Highness,” the female guard from before cut in. Both Nyx and Morgan jumped a bit at the sound of her voice. “Prince Noctis is not to leave this room unless escorted by the King or Queen.”

Umbra smiled up at her. “Father is in a meeting and Mother is ill. I’m afraid there isn’t much choice if Noctis is to eat, Guardswoman Nelia.”

“The food can be brought up here.”

“It will be safer if we go ourselves.”

The lightest crease of a frown on Nelia’s face (it had taken far too long for Nyx to learn her name) was the most expression Nyx had ever seen from her. “Safer, Your Highness?”

Umbra nodded, still smiling. “The servant in charge of delivering Noctis’ food has been feeling under the weather lately. I would hate to accidentally expose Noctis to any illnesses while his immune system is still so weak.”

Nelia stared down at him, unbending. “Another servant can be requested.”

“Yes,” Umbra agreed, “but they are short-staffed today. By the time they found someone Noctis would be very upset.”

“The needs of the royal family is our top priority, a servant would prioritize that above all else.”

“Which is why it would be best for us to go to them. They would put a simple meal first and foremost and then their tasks for the day would be even more behind schedule. I would hate for a bottle for Noctis to come in the way of my Father eating on time.”

Nelia’s eyes narrowed. 

Nyx and Morgan shared a look. There was no way to know if asking one servant to do something would actually make the King’s meal late, but there was also no way she was going to call Umbra a liar to his face. 

“...As you wish Prince Umbra.”

It was a good thing Libertus wasn’t here. He wouldn’t have been able to hide his snickers like Nyx could. You really didn’t argue with Umbra. It never ended well.

As they started walking down the hall Nyx hopped up onto the ceiling ledges. He rolled his eyes at the doe-eyed look Morgan was giving Umbra. That kid had a serious case of hero-worship. It made poking fun at him way to easy.

“Nyx?”

He looked down. 

Umbra smiled up at him. “Would you mind going ahead and letting the staff know we’ll be there soon? It should make our trip a little faster.”

Nyx pursed his lips a bit to stop the knowing smile growing there. “Sure.”

Flipping out the window he warped his way down to the kitchens. Hopping down next to the door he waved at the head cook.

“What’re you doing here Ulric?” the robust man asked, pressing deeply into the dough laid out in front of him. “You’re on Prince duty, aren’t you?”

“The littlest Princeling is hungry,” he said.

The chef’s eyes brightened with understanding. He nodded to the fridge behind him. “In there. Warm it up for a bit and it’s set to go.”

Nyx nodded, feeling a little odd at being trusted to handle the food for a royal. Perks of having a sister that stole the hearts of the people around her with sarcasm and dedication he guessed.

When the milk was warmed (and double-checked by the chef) Nyx walked out to see Umbra waiting for him.

“You got down here quick,” Nyx smirked. Neither Morgan or Nelia were with him.

Umbra smiled, teeth bright. “I took a shortcut.”

“Of course you did,” Nyx handed the bottle over. “Where to now?”

“I want to check if Mother is awake.”

“Alright.”

--00--

And that’s all I’ve got for that chapter. There’s a lot more stuff, in less chapter like format. let me know if you’re interested in reading more darling! Some of them are literally two sentences long like a summary of what I was planning to write but some are pretty long scenes. A lot is from when they are all older. I hope you liked it!

[miraculouslbfangirl]

9 - The weight of being the Guardian

AO3

1   2   3  4   5   6  7  8   10

Chapter 9 - Comfort 

The cold air of the night blew Ladybug’s bangs as she soared through the Parisian sky but did nothing to relieve the tightness in her chest. She knew she had made a mistake.

After Chat Noir had left she started patrol alone. She couldn’t say she was actually patrolling because she wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the chaotic thoughts inside her head. She had replayed their conversation over and over again. She had handled the situation poorly. He made good points about Multimouse and all she did was give a lame excuse and accuse him. She whined remembering that part and stopped, pressing her back to a chimney. Why had she done that?

Her feelings were all over the place. Everything that had happened in the last three weeks was overwhelming. Tikki and Wayzz could only do so much, especially if she didn’t tell them everything. Ladybug inhaled and exhaled deeply trying to steady her emotions. She wondered if Hawkmoth would even be able to pick one to concentrate on.

Her mind went to Adrien. They had talked about methods of keeping their emotions in check and he surely needed to watch himself now. She looked at her surroundings; she wasn’t far from his house. Maybe she should check on him.

The lights were on but he wasn’t in the room. From his window sill, she looked over Paris for any signs of an Akuma and saw nothing. As she returned her attention to his room a very angry Plagg stared her down.

“What were you thinking to say that to him?” The kwami crossed his arms in front of his tiny body.

“I’m sorry, Plagg. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Ladybug lowered her head not accustomed to being looked like that by a kwami. Plagg was so different from Tikki and Wayzz. Tikki sometimes got angry but her face was so cute that it barely counted.

“It’s not to me that you have to apologize.”

“Can I talk to him?” she asked tentatively.

Plagg sighed and floated aside to let her in. “I’ll let you, but if you dare hurt him again…” He didn’t finish his sentence as he went towards Adrien’s bathroom phasing through the door.

The two minutes that took to Adrien step out of the door felt like an eternity to Ladybug. She was both eager to see him and afraid to make things worse. Her heart thudded painfully fast against her ribcage, and it was getting hard to breathe. The open window was tempting. She was considering leaving when his voice sounded behind her.

“Plagg said you wanted to talk.” His cold voice matched the aloofness on his face.

Ladybug actually considered his demeanor a blessing considering that everything else in him at the moment would have fried her brain. He was fresh from the shower, barefoot, hands tucked into the pockets of not so loose grey sweatpants, white tank top, and unkempt damp hair. She carefully kept her gaze on his face avoiding his dangerous figure.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said,” she said crossing her arms hugging her middle. “I don’t really think that you’d put anyone in danger because of your feelings. It’s just… sometimes it feels that you don’t even think before you act and…”

“Really? Because I do. My power is tricky, one wrong move and I can cause great damage. You should know that since you cataclysmed a sentimonster without analyzing first.” She was caught off guard by that but recognized that he was right. “It may not seem but I don’t take unnecessary risks. It’s my job to protect you so you can fix everything. And I always will, regardless of my feelings for you. I act when there’s the need to. Sometimes it doesn’t go well. But what can I do? I’m not perfect. I make mistakes,” he stated.

“I do too. And big ones.” She averted her eyes from his face.

“That’s why I got so mad. We’ve both made mistakes, so why are you condemning Marinette for a small mistake? I don’t mind the things you said about me but I do care about what you said about her. And don’t think it’s because of my feelings, it’s not. When you compared her to Chloe. God. Do you know how different they are? They’re basically opposites.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry is not enough. I want an answer, Ladybug. Unless you give me a reasonable reason for why she can’t get the miraculous back I won’t understand you.”

He waited for her answer, but she couldn’t find one. Where was her capacity of making things up on the spot? After a couple of minutes of silence, he walked towards the window resting his forearm on the glass above his head.

She cast a glance at Plagg on Adrien’s desk. The look on his face said that he wouldn’t hesitate to cataclysm her if she said the wrong thing. She let her body slump on the couch, a sob escaping her throat. When did she start crying?

She heard Adrien sighing and felt the couch give in beside her, his hand softly landing on her shoulder.

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on I can’t help you. I can’t read your mind, you know?” There was a hint of teasing in his voice which brought another sob out of her.

“I’m so tired of having to be strong.” Her voice was strangled and muffled by her hand. She didn’t see Adrien sharing a look with Plagg in a way of asking him to watch for any purple butterfly. What she felt was his arms encircling her shoulder and bringing her closer to him.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” He held her patiently waiting for her to speak. He might be comforting her but his question still hung between them.

“I don’t feel prepared to be a guardian. I’m so scared to bring other people into this. Hawkmoth knows each one of our allies.”

“He doesn’t know…”

She didn’t let him say what she already knew he would. Ladybug hoped that what she was going to say made sense. Her brain felt mushy, tension was building up inside her skull causing a dull pain.

“I can’t put her in danger. All of them were her friends. He could figure her out. He could figure you out.”

Adrien thought for a minute and sighed “I guess you’re right. I don’t want to put her in danger either. I understand your fears... But I think you’ll be a great guardian, just give yourself time.”

“I thought I would have time to prepare for this. Master Fu was training me.” She tried to pull away but Adrien didn’t let her. So she buried her face into his chest fisting the white cotton. “I miss him so much. It’s hard that I don’t have anyone to ask for advice.”

“Isn’t Wayzz helping you? Plagg said he was.”

“He does what he can, but kwamis are not privy on the miraculous secrets in case they fall in the wrong hands.”

“It makes sense” Adrien complied.

“I’m afraid that if something happens to me you don’t have who to turn to? It’s just you and me.”

“I… I haven’t thought about that…” he said tightening his grip on her as if afraid she would disappear at that very moment.

“Wayzz said that I can’t tell you who I am. But what if I get incapacitate to fight and you need other people to help you like when Party Crasher caught me?”

“Maybe you could tell Plagg where to find the miraculous box and how to open it since he knows who you are. Would that be a problem?” Ladybug shook her head, as long as Plagg was with Adrien it wouldn’t. “Would you be able to do that, Plagg?”

“Yeah. I would,” he answered skeptically.

She had a feeling that Plagg didn’t agree with Wayzz about keeping her identity a secret. He really seemed to like Adrien a lot. “When I got here I thought you’d kick me out. Why are you being so nice?” she asked looking up at him.

“I have my moments of anger and I don’t like to be left in the dark but I believe that talking is the best way to solve our problems. I was worried about you. I know that you’ve been through a lot lately.”

She felt guilty. She was still hiding things from him; her feelings for him to start with and Chat Blanc. Should she tell him about it? Would that be wise?

“I wish I could share more things with you,” her voice was small as she fought back more tears.

“And I wish I could be there for you whenever you needed, but it can’t be. So let me help you when it’s possible. Let me take care of you, My Lady.”

The softness in his voice and the nickname that she missed so much broke down her defenses. She cried as he held her tightly rubbing circles on her back. Little by little her sobs died down and for the first time in weeks, she felt that she wasn’t alone in this. She let herself enjoy the comfort of his arms. The safeness of his embrace.

When she opened her eyes again, she was faced with blinding sunlight. As consciousness slowly kicked in she realized that she was still in Adrien’s bedroom; on his bed to be exact. She raised her arm and noticed with relief that she was still transformed.

A look to the sides proved that Adrien wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She got up to check his couch. He was there, facing the back of the couch with a pillow over his head. No doubt bothered by the light coming from the glass wall. She stood there for a while deciding whether she should wake him up. It was a school morning after all.

She didn’t miss the opportunity to check him out, though. The soft fabric clung to his body in a way that she wasn’t sure she would be able to see again, at least not in person and so openly.

“You should take a pic. It lasts longer,” he said lifting the pillow from his face showing a smug smile.

“I was deciding if I should wake you up,” she sputtered.

“Oh, I don't think so. I saw the way you looked at me last night. I would bet that you buy the magazines I’m in just to admire me,” he said laughing as she reached for the pillow and tried to hit him with it.

“Your naughty cat.” Adrien put his hands in front of him to block her.

“You’re not so immune to my charms as you say. At least not on this side of the mask.” He jumped over the back of the couch as she tried to hit him again.

“Come back here,” she said angrily as how right he was.

“Shh, you don’t want Nathalie to find you here, do you?”

Ladybug stopped in her tracks “No, of course not. I need to go home anyway.” There was something inside her that didn’t want him to win that. She recalled their conversation after Troublemaker. “You know, I do have some pictures of you, under my mattress.” She smirked triumphantly when he gasped in surprise and blushed a little.

“There are pictures of other guys too, right?”

“Naturally.” It wasn’t a lie. She had put some pictures of Master Fu there. She liked to look at them when things got too difficult. “I need to go, Adrien. Thank you for everything.”

“We’re friends and partners. I’ll always be here for you. Just talk to me.” He gave her a kind smile.

“I will. Bye, Kitty.”

When she neared the window he called her out. “Ladybug.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you know it was Marinette… the girl I like? I’m sure I didn’t say her name.” He looked confused and so did she. She knew it was Marinette due to the circumstances, but he hadn’t said her name.

“You said you talked to the girl before you talked to your best friend.” She thanked the good night of sleep that she had for her brain to be working again. “I saw you talking to Marinette right before Nino arrived at the park. I was nearby and… well, I assumed it was her.”

“I feel like I should lecture you for assuming things. But I’ll let that pass.” He chuckled. “I should start getting ready for school. Bye… My Lady.”

“See you around.”

See you at school, she thought as she jumped from his window.

[suspendedsatellite]

edge (1/1)

title: i stood at the edge

pairing: Gen, Past Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

rating: G

setting: Canonverse

word count: ~3000

summary: Snapshots of Magnus’s relationship with Camille throughout the years, and an introspection on all that happened between them.

“If I could hate you, I would find myself drowned in this shallow sea.”

It’s not that simple.

His fingers curled around the cold metal railing of the balcony, the wind almost strong enough to send shivers up his spine. Magnus’s thoughts were at once too loud and too hollow, echoing back and forth in the recesses his mind.

It wasn’t something Raphael or Simon could possibly understand, the weight of memory on nights like this. Not quite guilt, nor regret…just a sense of longing and sorrow for a fleeting time that had long passed. For a woman that neither of them had ever met.

(For the man that he used to be, and the man he would never be.)

No matter how many years passed, he would never forget the emptiness of that night. Not when it still clung in the corners of his being, blurring out the edges of his thoughts.

---

On one of the highest rooftops, Magnus looked over the city of London. The only sound around him was the chilly, early spring wind whispering through spaces between the buildings.

Most of the taverns had cleared out already, and the cabbies had all returned home in the early hours of the morning. It would still be quite a while before the sun rose– perhaps if he looked a little more carefully, he could find the nooks in the alleys where the night children were reveling in their scarce hours of freedom. A few wolves would be stalking through the streets, the young ones not yet able to control their transformations.

But what did it matter, if there was anyone down there at all? Not one of them would ever see him.

(And why should they? There was nothing worth finding here.)

If he took just a few more steps, off this ledge…that was all it would take to break this silence. Living for just a single moment, one breathless fall, before fading. None of it would matter. Forgotten, from a world he never belonged in anyway.

(Who would ever know?)

“You know it probably won’t work, right?”

A honeyed voice broke into his thoughts, and he spun around to see a woman leaning against the brick pillar of a chimney, the details of her features hidden by the shadows. In her hand was a wine glass, and as she tilted to take a drink, he caught the faint, unmistakable scent of blood.

“I’ve seen a couple of them try it, but your magic tends to kick in right before you hit the street. Fear’s a rather potent trigger.”

“What do you want?” Magnus glared at the intruding vampire as he felt an annoyance creep into the empty calm from moments earlier.

“Hmm. Nothing much, just a show. And in case it worked out for you, I was thinking I’d get a nice meal. Warlock blood’s pretty hard to come by.” Her nonchalant tone didn’t have even a hint of unease, which meant she was probably fairly powerful. Magnus found himself impressed despite himself.

“Well, you’ve rather ruined your chances then, haven’t you? Should’ve stayed quiet.” The moment was officially over now, and Magnus walked back away from the edge. He shook his head– it had been a stupid thought, a momentary lapse of logic.

(One that happened far too often these days.)

She looked up at him for the first time, allowing her beautiful face to catch the moonlight. Her eyes seemed to glow, framed by thick lashes that contrasted sharply with her unearthly pale skin. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders, a few strands picking up and flowing in the breeze as she walked slowly over to him.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe. Magnus had seen many stunning beings of every species over the years and he was immune to the effects of a vampire’s encanto, but the way this woman commanded the air around her left him enchanted nonetheless. When she stopped in front of him, he could do nothing but stare.

“It’s alright. I think your pretty face might be worth a bit more than a drink.” Her crimson red lips formed words that he barely caught in his stupor, but as she moved her hand up to cup his face, he jerked back in surprise.

Her laughter was like the sound of bells.

“You poor thing. I wasn’t going to scratch you for a taste, don’t worry.”

It was his turn to grin now. This was a game he knew how to play.

“I’m sure you weren’t, but one can never be too careful. I wouldn’t want a lovely lady like you to get hurt.”

Her elegant eyebrows rose in confusion, and, for the first time in weeks, he laughed. Lowering the glamour on his eyes, he let his magic flare around him. Magnus was pleased when her eyes sparked with a wild hunger instead of the fear he was so used to seeing whenever he used his magic.

The magic inherited from the blood of a Greater Demon.

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you? You should show that off more often. I wouldn’t mind getting…burned a bit, for a taste.” She let her lips open, giving him full view of her tongue as it traced the edges of her perfectly white fangs.

“You play a dangerous game, my lady.”

This time, he didn’t draw back when she approached him. He let her trail her nails lightly across his arm, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Darling, I’ve got nothing but an eternity of boredom waiting for me. I like living as close to the edge as I can. Especially since this one’s a whole lot more fun than the one you were dangling from.”

She leaned in close to his ear and lowered her voice to a sultry whisper.

“What do you say to some company tomorrow night? Somewhere out of this dreadful cold?”

Magnus wasn’t sure what he wanted, but in that moment, nothing was more alluring than the warmth in her voice. He felt her lips curl into a wide smile against his neck as he nodded.

---

“Magnus. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to come to this.”

He glanced up and felt his heart break a bit at the look Raphael was giving him. How could he regret anything when the living proof of what he had saved was standing right there? No matter how much he owed Camille, he would never be willing to trade away the family he finally found here.

“Raphael, dear, you have nothing to apologize for.”

Raphael might not ever understand his feelings, but he respected Magnus deeply. He knew a little too much about the complicated past Magnus shared with Camille, and would have kept his silence this time as well if it weren’t for Aldertree’s threats to his clan. Over the years, Raphael sought his help less and less frequently, and Magnus wasn’t sure if that was something that should make him happy.

The scared, uncontrolled young vampire had become the leader of an entire clan, overturning the most dangerous woman either of them had ever known to earn that title. Magnus was so proud of Raphael, but a part of him realized that now he was no longer needed.

This was probably what parents felt like when their children left home, he thought.

No matter how much time passed, though, he wanted Raphael to know he had a place to return to. That was one thing that wouldn’t change.

“Really.” He added when Raphael turned away, refusing to meet his eyes. “Camille went too far, and she should have known that.”

“She was important to you.”

“Yes.” He wouldn’t lie. “She was, a long time ago. And maybe even now.” Magnus gripped Raphael’s shoulders gently, turning the vampire towards him.

“But I would never choose her over my family.”

---

“Magnus Bane! What are you doing with that vermin off the streets?”

Camille’s lovely face was twisted in a vicious sneer as she looked down at the young vampire lying on their couch. Magnus suspected this might happen, but he had hoped she would at least offer some pity for her own kind.

Thank god Raphael was out cold.

“His name’s Raphael. He dug his way out just last night and would have razed the town. He’s already killed two mundanes. I had to get him somewhere before the shadowhunters found his trail.”

“You could’ve just taken out the problem down there instead of bringing this filth into our home.” He was left incredulous at what she was suggesting.

“Camille, would it kill you to show some sensitivity? You know what he’s gone through.”

Her coldness was one thing he had never expected after the first time they met years ago. He knew she was a ruthless woman, but she had also pulled him out of a darkness that nearly swallowed him. Looking at the unconscious vampire, Magnus was reminded of himself years ago when he still feared his own powers.

Camille, however, saw none of this. Instead, she scoffed.

“Life’s tough, sweetheart. Especially for nightchildren. If he can’t dig himself out of his own problems, that’s not my business. Or yours.”

“He’s a child.” It was true. The kid couldn’t have been more than eighteen or so.

Camille sighed and put her arms around Magnus. Her skin felt icy, even through his clothes, and the scent of blood clung to her.

She had been hunting.

Magnus wondered if anyone had died tonight.

Probably not.

Unlike Raphael, her control was perfect, and the only deaths at her hand were dealt intentionally. It was a level of mastery that Magnus had always admired, but sometimes he wondered if that was why she held so little sympathy for other downworlders.

“You’re still so soft-hearted.” Her tone was sweetly exasperated now. “You have to learn to nip the weak ones at the bud before they become the burden of an entire clan down the line. It’s our way.”

Magnus turned to her, eyes hard.

“It’s not my way, Camille.”

---

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Ragnor appeared at his side late that night. Despite drinking an entire bottle of his strongest wine, the memories refused to fade from his mind. It figured that tonight, all the spirits of the past would come to haunt him.

“I thought you left for good that time, after the wedding. At least you’re a ghost that’s welcome here.” Magnus played along, just as he always had. Surely he was allowed his own private delusions after the day he’d endured.

“Am I, truly? You never seem to listen or take my advice.”

“I humor you often enough. And you forget that last time, at least, I followed through.” Magnus grinned, remembering the triumphant kiss with Alec in front of a crowd of wide-eyed shadowhunters.

“A good thing you did.” Ragnor chuckled. “That boy’s been good for you.”

Magnus poured another glass of wine and set it in front of Ragnor’s chair, even though he knew his friend would never be able to touch it. Ragnor’s eyebrow rose, and the two of them stared at each other.

“I wish you were here.”

“No you don’t. You’re just upset about Camille and wish you could replace her ghost with another.”

His heart clenched. He wondered if Ragnor would truly believe that if he were here now.

“That’s not true, Ragnor.”

The ghost’s expression softened.

“No? I suppose not…a pity then, that I can’t join you now.”

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that soon the illusion would be gone, leaving him alone again.

“I…I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know if he was apologizing to Ragnor, Raphael, or perhaps even Camille.

Was there anyone he hadn’t failed?

“What should I have done?” He whispered.

But he was right– when he opened his eyes again, there was nothing but silence from the empty seat across from him, the glass of wine on the table sitting untouched.

---

“Ragnor, listen–”

“No, Magnus, you listen to me. You promised me, when you came here ten years ago, that you put her behind you. Now she shows up and crooks her finger at you and that’s it?”

“It’s different now.”

“Bullshit. You’re going to help her hide the bodies, and then what? Sleep with her, throw some parties together, wait a few decades for her clan to do this all over again?”

“I can’t leave them to the Clave, Ragnor!”

“And why not!?”

“She has Raphael this time. He’s the one who called me.”

Ragnor fell silent at that admission.

“…How did Raphael end up there?”

Magnus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. That was the same question he had been asking himself for the last few months ever since he found out.

“Camille brought him over three years ago. He didn’t talk to me about it, probably because he knew about what went down between us.”

Ragnor sighed.

“Magnus, that’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have been caught in this mess.”

“He wanted a clan, and god only knows what Camille promised him.”

“I should have warned him.”

“And you think he’d listen?”

“I should have tried.”

(I should have given him a home.)

---

“What was she like?”

Magnus glanced over at Alec, about to deflect the question and the argument that was sure to follow. But he realized that there was no judgment or doubt in Alec’s eyes this time, just simple curiosity.

“Sorry, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” Alec scratched his head and looked away. “It’s just…I guess I’ve always wondered.”

“Why I was with her, you mean?” He laughed a bit half-heartedly. “Sherman asked the same thing when he and Raphael asked me to find her.”

“Simon.” Alec corrected half-heartedly. “And yeah, I guess so. What did you see in her?”

Magnus chuckled, then bit his lip, thinking carefully before he spoke again.

“Alexander…it was a different time. I wasn’t kidding when I said it was ancient history, almost literally. I was a different person back then. And so was she.“

(But that wasn’t really it, was it?)

"Though…maybe not quite as different as you might expect.” Magnus added.

Alec remained quiet and his gaze patient as Magnus struggled to find the right words.

“She was powerful in a world that was determined to hunt her down.” He recognized the nostalgic reverence in his voice, so different from the scorn he usually carried when he spoke about her. Perhaps it was easier to admit to this now that he knew those words would never be twisted against him.

(Perhaps time could make these memories kind again.)

“I was ashamed of who I was. I had the blood of both my parents on my hands before I was ten years old. An abomination and a murderer, and I was reminded of that every day by the silent brothers that named me and raised me.”

“Magnus–”

“No, it’s fine.” He hated talking about this part of his past. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it fine.”

“Maybe not.” Magnus shrugged off his boyfriend’s concern, unable to look Alec in the eye. “But time dulls things, and I’ve…made my peace with it now. Camille was one of the people that showed me how.

“She was selfish with all her toxic indulgences, but so beautiful in all of it. She didn’t even need an encanto to have downworlders and mundanes alike bowing at her feet. Might as well have been Queen of the Downworld.” Alec rolled his eyes at that and Magnus laughed.

“Glad to know some things don’t change.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal beauty of the undead.”

“I meant the indulgences.” Alec frowned. “Overindulged in the end with that den of hers.”

“She certainly became more…reckless.”

“That’s one way to put it. I’d call it cruel.” Alec’s eyes were just a little colder when they looked at Magnus this time, the protective shadowhunter in him showing through.

Magnus sighed.

“Alexander…shadowhunters aren’t exactly kind to people like us. The seelies create their own realm, but vampires, werewolves, and warlocks like me…we’re forced to find our place in the war between the shadowhunters and demons.”

“That doesn’t justify murdering mundanes for sport or keeping them as slaves for their blood.”

“No, it doesn’t. And I’m not trying to justify or forgive her, Alexander. But in a world that didn’t allow her a single freedom, that was disgusted with her simply for who she was, she was fearless and strong enough to throw it back in their faces.

“And she taught me to do the same. To wear my cat eyes with pride and take my place as a high warlock of the downworld.”

Alec was silent, and Magnus was afraid he said too much.

“Alec, I don’t approve of anything, anything that she’s done here it’s just-”

“No, Magnus, it’s okay, I know.”

---

“Camille, it’s not that simple. You know that I love you but I can’t do this anymore.”

“You’ll regret this Magnus. Raphael’s already left, and Ragnor and Catarina will leave you too.” She glared at him for a moment before her bitter words turned sweet.

“You’ll come back to me, Magnus. You always will. You fancy yourself a High Warlock now, but we both know you’re still just the lonely boy standing at the edge of the London skyline, waiting for me to call you down.” Her words struck a chord in him, and for a moment, he shivered, as if feeling the same chilling wind of that night again.

“No, Camille. I’m not.”

---

The sunlight was already creeping in from between the curtains by the time Magnus opened his eyes. A soft breeze drifted in from the balcony, like an old friend calling to him.

“Magnus?” A soft voice, hoarse from sleep, broke the silence.

“Go back to sleep darling. Sorry I woke you.” Magnus pressed a kiss against Alec’s forehead. As he attempted to rise, however, an arm wrapped around him tightly.

"Stay. Please?”

“…Of course.”

(It still called him sometimes, in a gust of wind so cold that it froze him down to the very bone. But he had a place to return to now, far from that distant edge.)

---

author’s notes: This was largely written back in April, 2017 based on a lot of headcanons for me on Magnus and Camille’s relationship. I wanted to take a more nuanced look at the way he might have felt for her, and…this is what happened. I found it again recently so I decided to publish it here, but I’ve been out of the loop with the SH canon for quite a long time now, so apologies if any of these details have now been jossed by canon.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Mother dragon (5); Winchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey ya’ll okay I first want to say thank you so much for everyone who has taken an interest in this series. I thought no one would give it a shot but now I am in tears at seeing the messages that some of you give me about how much you like this series. And here I present to you, another part and there’s a special treat for you all inside but I won’t tell you what it is, you’ll just have to read and find out.

Taglist:

@onebigfangirlworld

______________________________________________

Part 5

“Mum. Mum.” I groaned tiredly. “Mum wake up.” Oh god the one thing I never missed, even now that he’s practically full grown. I peeled my eyes open to see Deacy hovering over me.

“What is it?” I groaned out.

“Two questions; one what is that symbol on your right shoulder mean?” I peeked over to see my anti-possession tattoo and I said.

“Well,” I rubbed my eyes trying to wake myself up further as I explained, “You remember how I told you about demons?” he nodded and I said as I gestured to my tattoo, “Well once I turned 18, I got this done instead of having to deal with that necklace on all the time. This tattoo on my body makes me immune to demon possessions.”

“Ahh, and second. What’s that suit you’ve got in the closet?”

“What suit?” I asked.  He stood up, walked over to my closet and revealed a secret latch which soon sent my secret falling out.  I quickly got out of the bed and I said to him. “What have I told you about going through my stuff?”

“All I want to know is what it is? It’s not like I’ll tell the brothers. You know you can trust me.” I looked at him an of course those soft brown eyes made me butter up every single time.  And now that he was an adult, it only just made him that much cuter.

“Okay, okay. But promise me you won’t tell them.”

“Would they even listen to me if I did?” my heart ached a little hearing that come out of his mouth.  I walked up to him and grabbed the suit from the rope and placed it on my hidden mannequin.  I also took from my drawers the blueprints I had made years ago and handed them to him.

“It’s just a fantasy really, but after remembering that time seeing you fly, I just felt this rush of adrenaline and thought ‘hell why can’t I make one?’ Wings here are made of a flexible but durable leather texture that kinda resemble bat wings. They’re controlled by these pulley here, pull the string and out they pop. The suit itself is light weight so it’s not as bulky as the 2012 Ironman suit in the Avengers, but it’s strong and bullet proof at least.”

“You know dragon skin is the toughest shield there is, even stronger than your regular bullet proof vests. Maybe we can rework the cover of the armor. Make it more dragonesque.” He said.

“We?”

“Yes. This is a really cool design mum. And I think once it’s fully ready we can take it for a test drive.”

“And how do you plan on doing that Mr. Smart guy? We’ll be spotted anywhere here in Kansas.”

“We’ll find a way. So how long did it take you to build this?”

“Well after helping Dean fix his baby, and him teaching me a thing or two about electrical engineering, about…..2 and a half years. Also taking in the time to work on cases with the boys, helping save the world a couple of times. The usual procrastination stuff.” He nodded and he said.

“This is a well-made suit mum. Finally joining team dragons are yah?”

“Again Deacy it’s just a fantasy. I don’t even know if this suit will even work, it’s never been tested out and I’ve had it done for 9 months now.”

“Yo (y/n)!” I heard Dean say from the other side of my door.

“Shit.” I muttered as I quickly hid the suit in my closet and shut it.  I quickly turned towards Deacon and was shocked to realize that he was also shirtless. “Gah Deacy put your shirt back on.” I whispered to him as I frantically started trying to find where he had tossed his shirt but couldn’t find it anywhere?

“Why?”

“Because if Dean walks in and sees you like—this he’ll think we…..that you…..” but it was too late, Dean opened my door.  He still wore his robe and dark blue nightshirt and shorts as well as his slippers.

“We need to—” Dean opened the door and the second he saw Deacon in my room shirtless, the tiredness immediately left his face as he turned between him and me. “I’mma get my gun.” He bluntly stated as he turned to walk out of my room.

“Dean…..” I stepped forward but he quickly turned around and got into a karate-style like defense position.

“If you truly believe that I would ever turn on my mother like how you’re thinking, you’re even sicker than I thought you were.” Deacy said as he sat down at the foot of my bed.

“Yeah then why the hell don’t you have a shirt on? More importantly why are you in her room?”

“Because you weren’t going to give him a room and dragons get antsy when they’re in unfamiliar places so I allowed him to stay here. Dean c’mon, not this early.”

“Come on? Are you kid…..Look…..This….moth—You and me. Library. Right now.” He spoke his last statement as he tied the strings of his robe around his waist closing his robe around him staring me down like a pissed off dad who caught his daughter having sex with her boyfriend. “Come on!” he pointed behind him emphasizing his demand.

I sighed heavily and turned to Deacy before walking out of my room.  I could imagine Deacon trying to follow me because next thing I knew, Dean stopped Deacon by crying out at like he was disciplining a dog.

We reached the library and there I saw Sam as well as Cas.

“Cass, well this is a surprise.”

“Hello (y/n).” he greeted me.

“Hey young lady, we still need to talk about what happened back there.” Dean said as he came into the library.  I sighed annoyed as Sam said.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

“I found our little lizard guest was shirtless as he slept with his ‘mother’.”

“Dean I’m gonna ask you as nicely as I can. Can you please get your head out of your ass by this much so that I can explain myself?!” I rubbed my temples and continued, “Nothing happened, okay. When I went to bed he had a shirt on, okay?”

“Should I even ask what this is all about?” asked Cass confused.

“We’ve got a dragon in the bunker.” Explained Sam.

“A—a what?!”

“Yeah a dragon, they still exist and she’s the mother of the one we got.” Dean stated bluntly.

“How—”

“It’s a long story, we’ll fill you in later.” Sam explained.

“But…..how were you not captured? Dragons are attracted to virgin women, that dragon should’ve take you to its den.” Cass said.

“Yes, thank you Cass. I know how dragons are around women.” I sneered.

“Sorry it’s just that. Dragons are attracted to the smell of virgin women and if they aren’t virgins then, they lash out aggressively.” Cass continued to explain not helping my cause.

“Oh god (y/n) please tell you’re—” Dean started off and that’s when I proclaimed.

“Seriously?! When would I have time to give away my V card guys? I’ve lived in the woods for 6 years of my life, most of my teenage life trying to survive. I was in the system for two till I was legal and by then I met you two knuckleheads. When exactly would I have time to have a one night stand with someone?”

“Are we still on the discussion whether I’ll take my mum away from you all?” Deacon’s voice soon piped up.  We turned around and I saw that Deacon was now dressed in one of Dean’s shirts as well as a pair of his jeans.

“Is that my Led Zeppelin shirt?” Dean snapped.

“Dean don’t.” I said.

“There’s another one of you here. But he’s not human.” Deacon spoke up wearily as he stared Cass down.

“Cass, this is my adopted son Deacon. I found him shortly after he was hatched. Deacy, this is Castiel he’s……”

“I’m an angel of the Lord.” He spoke up for me. Deacon’s eyes widened before he turned to Cass.

“It’s okay Deacy, he’s not like that last angel you and I encountered. You can trust Cass” I assured him.  He hummed and nodded before saying.

“As I was saying earlier, I’ve known my mother since I was a few days old. Barely enough time to fully imprint with my real mother. (Y/n) has filled in the rest of the imprint of being my mother and that’s all I see her as. Not a threat, not prey, not an obsession. Just my mother, and nothing else.” I walked over towards Deacy.

He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled into my neck affectionately as I heard the soft purrs coming out of him.  I stroked through his long hair and said.

“And that’s all I see Deacon as. Not a lover, not a monster, and most certainly not a soulless beast, but my son.”

*3rd Person POV*

Dean was currently going through the Men of Letter’s library, trying to find anything about dragons that they might have found.  He was also using Sam’s laptop to do some basic animal researching on imprinting, of course most of the search revolved around the Twilight movies but the stuff he did manage to find basically stated the same thing.

“Dude how many times have I told you not to use my laptop? Last time you used it; it froze for a month all because of your Asian porn searching.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist Sammy, I’m actually doing some real research this time.”

“And what would that be?”

“Dragons and imprinting. I’m still not buying this crap Deacon’s saying.”

“Well what all have you found out?” Sam asked as he sat down in front of his brother.

“Well the Men of Letters say in this book of how ‘dragons always claim a female virgin in order to sustain their lustful urges.’ Nothing about imprinting or whether a dragon could imprint on a human at the first few moments of birth.”

“What have you found out about Imprinting?”

“Basically the same thing that when an animal is born, the first thing they see they child-parental bond is formed. The animal will just follow you like a lost puppy. Kinda like you do most days.” Sam looked at his brother and he said.

“And both (y/n) and Deacon have said that it was just a few days after he ‘hatched’ that they both met each other.”

“Exactly. Plus it’s been what—seven years since they’ve seen each other. Who knows what that guy’s been up to since then. What if he came into contact with another dragon? Could’ve been taught how to be a real dragon, fallen off the wagon?”

“That is a possibility. I mean it happens with cats and dogs if they become strays for a certain amount of years. But I have to ask, why would he not take her to his nest? Why let her stay back at her old home and not take her away?”

“It could be a play. After all he was raised by (y/n). She’s clever.”

“Yeah but Dean maybe—maybe there’s a chance that Deacon is different than the dragons we encountered a few years back after I got my soul back.”

“Until I see something about it, then Deacon’s still a menace and a danger to (y/n). Now why don’t you help me out here and see if you can find anything that I’m missing here.”

Reluctantly but understanding of where Dean was coming from, Sam picked up another book and began reading as closely as he could through every word and every page on the behavior of dragons.

*My POV*

I was out for my mid-morning run through the woods, I had allowed Deacon to make some adjustments that he saw would benefit my dragon armor and make it even more authentic.  I soon stopped panting softly at a cliff’s edge that overlooked the lower levels of the forests.

“Hello (y/n).” I jumped a bit but knew that it was only Cass.

“Damnit Cass how many times must we go through this? Had I not already been through this, I would’ve probably fallen over the cliff.”

“Sorry.” I waved off the apology and said.

“What is it that you came out here for? I know you’ve got something on your mind.”

“It’s about Deacon.”

“Why what’s happened? Is he okay? Did Dean do something to him? If he did I swear to God—”

“He’s fine. It’s more so about your relationship with Deacon than anything else.” I sighed heavily and said.

“Cass please—”

“You are aware of what he is right?”

“Yes Cass I’ve known since the beginning. I came across his mother’s corpse at 11 years old. I watched as poachers, not hunters, poachers which means they hunt for sport, not protection. Come up to her and started admiring her cold, dead corpse and talking about how much they were going to make off of her piece. By piece. If I didn’t allow Deacon to come with me, he would’ve been sold off too, if not killed, while still looking like a 6 year old boy.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. But (y/n) that was all in the past. It’s been years since you’ve seen Deacon. How do you know he won’t revert back to what a dragon is supposed to do?”

“If he had, don’t you think I wouldn’t be here?”

“Some dragons bait their victims on. Don’t you think Deacon could’ve gotten in contact with other dragons and they taught him how to behave like a real one?” I refused to answer that because Deacon already told me everything.

“What exactly are you trying to say Cass? Stop with the riddles and just say it to my face.”

“Deacon’s now a full grown dragon. It wouldn’t be safe for you to have him at this rate. He’s not some pet that you can keep—”

“Didn’t I just say back there that he’s not a pet. I don’t see him as one. He’s my son.”

“And as a parent you must know that all children grow up. While we are grateful to him for saving you from the Vetala pack, he—he has to go back to his home. Wherever that is.”  Oh I see where this is going.

“Well I hate to disappoint you Cass, but he’s not going anywhere. As his mother he’s going to stay here. I’ve been searching for him for seven years. I thought he had been killed, and now that I’ve found him, he’s never leaving my side again. I can take care of him, protect him and ensure that no hunter goes after him.”

“(Y/n), you’re not thinking clearly. He’s built his own life somehow. I know he’s told you that. What if he has a mate back home? Children? They’ll need him.” But as Cass kept ranting on trying to get me to see reason, I heard something in the air.

It was a deep, low wind gust.  But I knew better, it didn’t sound like wind at all. Plus I have been out here for over an hour and no wind has blown yet, in fact the weather said there wouldn’t be any wind today.

“Cass be quiet.” I said.

“No (y/n) you need to hear—”

“No, no serious quiet!” I was alert and Cass seemed to sense something as well.

“What was that?” my stomach dropped and I muttered.

“Cass get down.” Then suddenly flying right up the cliff’s edge were two large dragons.

One was a massive spiked dark dragon with red like fins decorated down along it’s neck.  It also sported a couple of horns at the side of it’s head but it was definitely bigger than how I’ve seen Deacy’s dragon form.  The other dragon was smaller than the first and almost appeared like a cross between dragon and an owl.

It’s owl-like face sported a crown of horns and fins kinda like a lionfish and it’s scales consisted mainly orange and brown.

The two dragons circled around me and Cass who was holding me close to him as the two of us had ducked down so that we wouldn’t be blown away by the wind gust that I knew dragons had.  They both let out roars as they finally hovered over us, and what was shocking to see with the owl-like dragon was that it’s two large wings suddenly split into four wings.

It tilted it’s head in a straight vertical line as it’s huge golden eyes stared directly at me.  It turned towards the bigger dragon grumbling out a low roar, almost as if they were speaking to each other.  The bigger dragon glared down at me with hateful eyes as it let out a low growl before roaring down at me.

Both Cass and I covered our ears at the agonizing loudness of the roar.  But what we didn’t know was that suddenly appearing out of the woods was another dragon. However compared to the two others, it was more of a giant serpent.  Cass turned around and suddenly there was just the force of being knocked forward before I found myself in the clutches of this serpent dragon.

I soon found myself being flown hundreds of feet into the air and I looked up at the black and gold dragon that now had me in it’s claws.  I soon heard the sound of grunting and I looked down towards the tail and saw Cass hanging on for dear life.

He placed his finger to his lips trying not to let me give away his cover but the large black dragon huffed and roared at the dragon that had me as its attention turned towards Cass.

The giant serpent dragon then whipped it’s whip-like tail trying to get Cass off of him.  Cass tried to hold on as best as he could but all it took was just three whips to finally send him flying back down to earth.

“NOOO!!! CASS!!!” I cried out as he got smaller and smaller before I finally lost him as me and the dragons flew higher and higher. Due to the insane air pressure the higher we flew, I must’ve ended up passing out because next thing I saw was nothing but darkness and I kept muttering Cass’s name as well as Sam’s, Dean’s and Deacon’s.

*3rd Person POV*

Cass fell about 1000 feet straight back down towards the forest and the second he fell to the ground, the only thing he saw were the three giant figures of the dragons flying away from him.

“(Y/n)……no, no (y/n)…..” he tried to get up but his body was in pain from the sudden impact, the last thing he saw were the dragons taking away his dear friend.

As the dragons continued flying higher and higher beyond the clouds.  The owl-like dragon’s eyes did something that no other dragon’s could do.  They suddenly glowed pure gold and suddenly appearing out in the air was a portal.  

One by one each of the dragons flew through the portal and once the serpent like dragon’s full body went through it, the portal closed and disappeared, just as quickly as it had appeared.

The dragons now came upon a series of mountain cliffs filled with nothing but greenery and sea water.  They flew through the mountain terrain through the entrance of a cave until finally arriving at a nesting area within the mountain.

Hundreds of dragons soon awoke from their slumber to see the three dragons reenter the picture with a human intact.  The serpent dragon gently set (y/n) down before backing away.  The owl-like dragon soon came up and as it walked toward (y/n) it changed from a dragon to human as did the other two.

As (y/n) was slowly coming around, she groaned and looked up and through a blurry vision, she saw a man staring down at her with a tuff of short brown hair, the scruff of a beard going all over his face and deep blue eyes staring down at her.  She heard the low rumble of dragon growls before she passed out once more.

“Is she dead?” The brown haired dragon turned towards the other two.  One was an Egyptian man with short black hair, a strong jawline and blue eyes much like the owl-like dragon has in his human form but not quite as deep.  The other male who had asked the question had messy, curly blond hair and had greenish eyes.

He was more strongly built and he just seemed to have the Alpha-like stance and attitude, and around his face were old faded battle scars.  The dragon who was standing over (y/n) then answered.

“No, humans don’t have the compacity to withstand sudden high altitude elevation. She’ll live though.”

“Good. Wouldn’t be too sporty of me to kill her if she’s already dead.”

“Easy Warren, we know how you feel about humans but there’s questions that need to be answered.” Spoke the Egyptian.

“Apophis is right. Like who she is and why she’s swarmed with Deacon’s scent.” Answered the brunette.

[imagine-loki]

Monsters and Magic

TITLE: Monsters and Magic

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 73/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a vampire who helps the Avengers defeat an evil seethe of other vampires, and Loki befriends you after you end up in their custody

RATING: T (again after last chapter)

NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You ran toward Thor and Loki, though Bucky’s arms wrapped around you before you could get more than a couple of steps. He was taking his responsibility to keep you out of danger very seriously and was keeping you away from the fighting Asgardians. 

Thor ripped the staff away from Loki.  He looked triumphant for a moment, as if he were going to win the bout, before he stared at it with a look of dumb confusion when it sparked angrily in warning.  A moment later, it was electrocuting the shit out of him, throwing him on his back with a curse of pain.  He stayed there for a minute, not truly injured, but stunned.

   Loki was shocked and confused; he hadn’t even known it was possible to electrocute the god of thunder.  “Brother, are you alright?” Loki asked before he turned to you.  “Kitten, how else did you design my little gift? Was it supposed to do that?” he asked you gently as the staff had stopped electrocuting Thor. 

“Ow, shit,” Thor grumbled as he tossed the staff aside.  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he groaned as he got back to his feet.  He turned and glared at where you were still being held by Bucky off of your feet, your back pressed against his chest, your arms pinned to your sides, by his arms around you.  “You have some explaining to do, lady,” Thor told you coldly, making you flinch.

Loki moved to stand in front of Thor, blocking you from his line of sight.  “Don’t do anything brash, brother,” he warned.  He would defend you no matter what.

“She just electrocuted me, or knew it was going to happen,” Thor glared in reply, understandably upset by being electrocuted.  He was the god of thunder and should be immune to such things. He had recovered quickly.

“She did not know you would try and take my weapon from me,” Loki insisted, determined to protect you

“I didn’t think you would, or could actually take it!” you protested, panicked and distressed that Thor was mad at you.  You hadn’t meant to hurt him. 

“Brother, she didn’t know. Don’t be angry with her for what she wasn’t aware you would do. She cannot see the future,” Loki was trying so hard to keep you out of trouble with Thor.

Thor continued to glare at you.  “She could have warned us,” he growled, clearly upset at being taken down by your weapon.  He hadn’t expected to be shown up by a piece of magic.  Or electrocuted.  He wasn’t having a good day and didn’t like being made fun of.

“Not even I knew what would happen,” Loki insisted.  He would stab Thor every morning before breakfast, but he wouldn’t actually hurt him.  Loki started to tense, preparing to actively defend you from his brother. 

“Thor, kindly shut up,” Bucky growled. “It was an accident, but if you make her have a panic attack and close her airway, I will kick the shit out of you myself,” 

“Listen to the Sergeant. You do not want to take on the both of us and I will not allow you to rile up my love and cause her any pain,” Loki added, magic started sparking at his fingertips, ready to bind Thor if he didn’t calm down.  

Thor huffed, but softened a little when he actually stopped to see how distressed you really were and how bad you felt for accidentally hurting him. He looked to Loki. “No more nasty surprises for awhile, from either of you,” he glared between you and Loki before he stomped off to cool his temper elsewhere.

Loki relaxed when Thor was gone and turned his attention back to you.  “Darling, what was that?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry!” you wailed. “I didn’t know he would try to take it!  I didn’t know he would succeed!” 

Bucky set you back on your feet.  “Calm down Pisoi, no one’s yelling at you. The oaf is gone. Breathe,” he told you firmly.  No one wanted you to have another asthma attack.

Loki came over and pulled you into a hug, running his fingers through your her hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear to calm you.  You clutched onto him, shaking until you could finally calm, until your ragged breathing eased, until your heart slowed from its scared racing.  Loki’s arms didn’t release you, though.  You could feel his concern. 

“I’m ok,” you reassured him when he didn’t let you go.  “He just…” you paused, trying to figure out how to explain. “He…” you couldn’t seem to find the right words to explain your panic attack over it.  “He’s so like his father when he’s angry,” you finally blurted the words out and clutched onto Loki again.  

Thor was too like Odin, too like the man who had tortured you.  That was your problem with angry Thor.

Loki sighed again.  “It’s alright, darling. Thor won’t hurt you. I would never let anything happen to you. Neither would Bucky. You have nothing to fear,” he soothed, though you could hear in his voice that he thought your reaction illogical.

You knew it was illogical. 

That was a PTSD reaction, not a logical one. 

“I know that,” you practically growled, frustrated with yourself for the illogical reaction.  Loki pressed a kiss to the top of your head, not willing to let you go when you were upset.  “I didn’t think he would take it,” you told Loki again.

“I know, darling. I’m not angry with you. Though I am curious what you did to cause my gift to do that,”

“Put in a nasty surprise for anyone who tried to take it from you…” you admitted softly. “I-I didn’t want a weapon that strong falling into the wrong hands…” 

“I understand. And I appreciate that. Are you alright now?” Loki asked you gently.

You nodded against his chest.  “I didn’t mean for Thor to get hurt,” you said softly and looked up and around for where Thor had gone, though the idea of finding him to apologize had your heart and breathing speeding again.

“Thor went to cool off. Don’t worry, everything’s fine,” Loki reassured you quickly, trying to calm you again.  

“I should find him. Should apologize,” you insisted.

“Not right now. He is not in the best mindset to be dealt with,”

“But-” you protested weakly.  You should go apologize.

“We will speak with him once he has cooled off. Now is not the time to bombard him,” Loki insisted. You finally nodded again, accepting that he knew Thor better than you did.  Though you still felt bad and you were still beating yourself up over what happened.  

Loki sighed when he saw your mind wandering back to miserable thoughts.  “Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast,”

You nodded and ducked out of Loki’s arms long enough to go pick up the staff from where it had been left on the training field. “No!” Bucky protested, thought you’d already picked it up before he got the word out. He stared at you confused while you held it. “Why didn’t it shock you?” he asked as you carried it back over to them. 

“It likes me,” you replied with a shrug.  Loki raised an eyebrow, demanding a better explanation.  You laughed.  “I made it, it’s not going to hurt me,” you reminded him and handed the staff back to Loki.  “It also won’t the person if you lend it. It was a damn tricky spell to get right,” you whined.  It was actually a bunch of little spells twined together into something slightly chaotic. Loki looked impressed and you laughed.  “It takes a lot to get that look from you, noodle,” you teased.

“I’m not usually impressed. This really is a wonderful gift. Thank you dearheart,” Loki told you warmly and kissed you gently. He held out his arm for you to take.  “Now let’s go find some food. Bucky, do you plan on joining us?” he asked the soldier.

Bucky nodded as you took Loki’s arm.  “Might as well.”  You all headed to breakfast.  “Any plans on when we’re heading home?” Bucky asked Loki.

“I have to get Mother to confirm when kitten is well enough to travel back. Until then, we remain on Asgard,”

 Bucky sighed heavily.  “With how stubborn Pisoi is we’re never going home,” he teased

You stuck your tongue out at him in reply and things were finally back to normal after the upset with Thor. 

[bonesmctightass]

Stranded

It was getting colder as the sun dipped ever closer towards the horizon. This didn’t make a damn lick of sense in McCoy’s book, seeing as how it was supposed to be the dead of summer on this planet. It was sorta nice, he guessed. Kinda reminded him of winter vacations at the skii lodge his grandparents owned back in the day. There was a bunch of log cabins strewn about and they looked mighty inviting. But this wasn’t shore leave, and they had a schedule to keep. McCoy hiked his medbag higher onto his shoulder and regarded Spock with a jut of his chin.

“Y’alright? Holding up okay?” He asked, doing what he thought was an excellent job of keeping the worry out of his voice. They were following a representative of the planet to an impressive looking main structure that resembled a medieval castle of sorts. As such, he didn’t want to tip off their hosts that the alien to his left was probably rattling his bones by now, so he kept his voice hushed.

“I am adequate, Doctor. Please do not worry about my current state. We have important business to attend to which is much more pressing than my meager abilities to withstand the cold.” Spock replied stiffly.

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry my ass.” McCoy replied flippantly.

The important business he was referring to was actually the planet’s leader. They had been told he had contracted something on his last visit to the sister planet in the star system. McCoy had later found out, thanks to a rushed blood sample, that it was a mutated variation of the Auroral Plague. He’d had some… unfortunate interactions with the disease in the past. McCoy would not be making that mistake again. He gripped his tricorder and trudged through the snow to the warm haven awaiting them.

“Are you quite certain Mister Spock will be unharmed?” Their escort was wringing her hands nervously, having stopped outside the corridor leading to the main chamber. “If you must turn back to your ship we would understand.”

“There is no need,” Spock said calmly. “I am a Vulcan, and thus immune to the bacteria. For this reason I was the most qualified candidate to accompany Doctor McCoy.”

“I’ve also been vaccinated, as we previously discussed. No harm will come to us, ma’am. We’ll get the job done soon as we can. Please get yourself a safe distance and make sure that no one has access to the area for the duration.”

The woman nodded and quickly retreated, leaving the pair to their duties.

---------------------------------

“There. That ought to do it. He’ll be right as rain after a few days rest.” McCoy announced triumphantly. This encounter with the Auroral Plague was much more pleasant, all things considered. “Thanks for the help, Spock. You make an excellent scrub nurse.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Doctor. Although I should like to remain in my current position. Now if you are amenable, I would like to return to the ship as soon as possible. I believe I can endure approximately thirty seven more minutes before I begin to lose feeling in my hands.”

It didn’t take a genius to see that Spock was looking considerably more green than usual. The blood capillaries in his face had risen so close to the surface of his skin, McCoy could actually see the fine webbing of his veins. He frowned, not liking the look of that at all. “Let’s get you home to a warm bed, then, shall we?”

They gathered their medical gear and found their way to the entrance. As they were about to enter the grounds to the estate, the same woman from before made an appearance.

“A storm is coming.”

At this, McCoy bristled. He absolutely detested being unprepared. What he detested even more was the thought of harm coming to Spock due to the increasingly plummeting temperature.  “What storm? There was no talk of a storm before we beamed down. Are you saying we can’t leave?”

The girl couldn’t have been older than twenty five. Earning McCoy’s ire had the poor thing looking like she’d be reduced to tears any second and he instantly felt bad. “I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be safe for you to beam up now. I really am sorry. Please, I’ve made up a room for you to rest. You will be warm enough for the night and there is nourishment for you both. As soon as dawn comes, you will be able to leave.”

Rubbing his hands over his face, McCoy heaved a heavy sigh. “Alright. Guess we’ve got no choice. Come on, Spock. Let’s follow the lady and we’ll try to get Jim on the comm.”

It looked like Spock was having trouble getting his body to cooperate, which made McCoy even more nervous. “That would be agreeable.”

They set off down the hall and the many twisting corridors that followed.

“Please let me know if there is anything you need. We cannot thank you enough for your healing. Please, anything at all. I’ll be just down the hall.” The girl said as they stopped in front of their quarters for the night. She left as quick as she’d come, leaving the two mean to inspect their shelter.

“I’d better call Jim before things get too bad out there.” Apparently he’d spoken too soon. He tried to send a message to the bridge but the communicator couldn’t get a signal through the heavy snowfall. “Damn it. I guess we’ll just tough it out, then.” He signed and pushed the heavy door open.

The room actually wasn’t terrible. There was a good number of blankets. A nice fireplace, already roaring. Plush carpet spread along the wooden floors. Sort of reminiscent of a bad porno he once saw when he was a teenager. McCoy grimaced and shook his head, focusing his attention instead on the large four poster bed against the adjacent wall. He swallowed thickly, wearily eyeing their accommodations for the night.

“Well. Guess this planet has no qualms about bedsharing.” McCoy huffed. Spock remained ramrod straight on his spot just in front of the door, still in parade rest. He was getting increasingly worried about his friend’s health. “Hey, come on. Get into the bed before you freeze to death.”

“I’m afraid I am unable to move. It appears that the blood flow to my extremities has slowed considerably. My body is beginning to shut down.”

“Jesus, Spock.” Determined not to panic in the face of this new obstacle, McCoy set his jaw and thrust himself into the task of getting Spock into the bed. An incredibly challenging feat, seeing as how his bones were several times denser than his own. “God, you weigh a ton! No wonder you’re so goddamn strong. You lug this dead weight around all day, I don’t know how you can stand it!”

After several embarrassingly long minutes, McCoy was finally successful in getting Spock onto the mattress. He tucked the Vulcan in and piled as many blankets on top of his body as he possibly could.

“How’s that? Any better?”

“I will update you in a moment as I am still quite numb. My apologies for the inconvenience, Doctor.”

“Oh, shut up.” He got up and stoked the fire, making sure the temperature in the room climbed a few degrees higher. “I’m your friend. I’m not about to let you turn into an icicle. At least we’ve got a fire going. That should get your blood flowing again.”

“The feeling is slowly returning to my fingers. I will survive the ordeal, thanks to your aid. If you do not mind sharing the space with me, I suggest you prepare yourself for sleeping. Surely the Captain will be eager for our safe return.”

If you do not mind. As if. McCoy knelt to the floor to remove his boots. He wouldn’t mind. In fact, he would have preferred to coax Spock into his bed the old fashioned way. It took him far longer than it should have to untie the laces. He was delaying the inevitable. He knew he was going to get into that bed. He knew he was going to be mere inches away from Spock’s body. And he knew that he was not going to be able to resist touching it.

Their courtship was a long one. They had flirted here and there. Had a drink once. Met for dinner and spoke of times past. There was something there between them and they both knew it. An easiness. It was so easy for them to come together and speak casually about any number of things. So easy to debate and argue. And so fun. But it was also fragile. So very fragile. Any sudden movement and McCoy feared everything would fall apart. Even speaking about it had been off the table thus far. But there was something.

“Are you going to join me?” Spock asked quietly, startling McCoy out of his reverie.

“Yeah.”

The bed dipped with the added weight. McCoy slid under the blankets and settled stiffly onto his back. He had never been in a bed with Spock before. He had sat across from him in the mess. Even shared a space on the couch in his quarters, once. But most of their camaraderie was spent in the medbay in McCoy’s office. This was new uncharted territory.

“Is this fine?” He asked hesitantly. He could hear Spock inhale shallowly and felt something move against the sheets.

“Leonard,” Spock said seriously. “I am quite frigid. Perhaps you could come closer. If you would permit it, I would greatly benefit from your body heat.”

After waiting the two or three minutes it took to actually process what the hell Spock had just said out loud, McCoy scooted a bit closer. He sidled up against Spock’s side, a hair's breadth away from touching the length of his body with his own. He could feel the heat rolling off Spock in waves, his body desperately trying to return to its normal temperature. McCoy bit the inside of his cheek hard. Just a little closer. Just a bit. For Spock’s benefit.

Another few centimeters and they were touching. McCoy was trying to hold still, trying not to ruin it. Trying not to breathe.

“Is this still fine?”

This time Spock exhaled and he definitely felt the movement of those devastatingly elegant fingers.

“Yes.”

@strangledbythestars

[amelee23]

Love goes beyond stars

Art belongs to @catneylang (I’ll take it down if I’m not allowed to use it.)

Prompt: Can you do Keith proposing to reader?

Number of words: 7,549

Genre: Heavy Angst, Fluff, Lotta Romance, Referenced/ Implied Smut, Comedy

Tags: Proposal, Adult Love, Hurt and Comfort, Lance being hot under the collar, Hard Decisions, Season 7 based, Dialogue Heavy

Summary: They’ve been apart for five years, but they didn’t mind.

The fluorescent flowers on the left of the shelter would give out perfume everyday at the same hour; they couldn't possibly know what hour that was, there was no such thing as a sun in the quantum abyss. Therefore, they had to make do with that more visual than audio alarm - even the fragrance was too faint to feel from inside the cave, but the pink mist was visible on clear days. They figured the substance wasn't toxic by purely living next to it; of course they wouldn't go inhale it directly, but they surely upped their immune system in the two months they've been leaving on this creature's back. Either this abyss was really large, or the creature was moving extremely slowly, but it seemed they barely advanced a few inches. With the amount of gravitational pull, anything was possible; how Keith wished to hear Katie's voice again, rambling some calculation he surely wouldn't understand until they were finished and he asked her to explain how she got to that conclusion once again, slowly, as for a not-so-keen-on-learning boy that he was. Every day, the same scenery, same broken planets and celestial mass, same routines except for a few times when he had to defend the base from intruders. If he was alone, he would've gone insane, but fortunately he wasn't.

Even with Krolia beside him, there were things that both of them together couldn't understand. How this animal  - a mammal by human interpretation - could have water provisions on its back; even if the water was red, and honestly looked very scary and toxic, it truly wasn't. It took complete dehydration for them to try, but it was worth it in the end, they saw no side effects to it, which was the first and only thing served on a plate in this habitat. It was a vicious circle of thoughts, but it at least kept him occupied: there were plants, so there was oxygen. That was obvious considering they didn't dry like a raisin in minutes; and with a hopeful amount of hydrogen, wherever it came from, along the eons probably water was created. It's not like they had a filter either, besides the rain catcher on the roof, so whatever came from the river was part liquid part soil, disgusting but necessary. Nature was a blessing, he wasn't only now realizing it but, he surely felt it vibrate inside him harder. The lake was his paradise, where he washed almost every single day, watching that red glassy colour contour his muscles.

Still, even with water provisions, there was one more thing to care about, which was food. The giant crab-spider creatures weren't exactly hard to kill, but the heaven knows the first few meals ended up with Keith puking out his guts. It wasn't that it had a bad taste, actually it could have been considered a delicacy because it did taste close to crab meat. It reminded him of his 2 year anniversary, in which he planned something romantic and expensive, ate crabs for the first time in a Houston restaurant; he was so embarrassed, him being in casual clothing and his girlfriend in a fancy dress -it brought a smile to his face at least. A smile Krolia couldn't understand, not even Shiro sometimes, and he was the only one to know.  With Shiro, it was a silent understanding. They both lost their lovers to their fate here, in the endless cavity of space. With one glance in Keith's eyes he would know, why he had turned for the worse again, why he's sulking, why he's quiet yet screaming exactly when he shouldn't. Keith lost his pillar, his anchor, and to top it all off, he's been keeping it a secret for over a year now. A year so full of everything, of things he wanted to tell someone, wanted to surprise her kind eyes with things they'd usually laugh about at three am turning to be true- wanted to let her know he found out what was wrong with him all this time, to take her to meet his mom, to fly her into space, to ask for forgiveness and tell her he loved her at least once more. The castle of lions, his chamber, Red, Black, this animal, they all know the shape of his tears. He could imagine her pout when seeing him like this, the little wrinkling on her chin, her pointy lips. But that image, in the literal point of the abyss, will surely be forgotten. His memories were meant to get as blurry as his eyesight filled with tears.

The fire crackled, probably because Keith couldn't help poking at it with a stick; the space wolf was cutely chasing his tail in the back of the cave, dirtying his shiny fur with dust again. Keith sulked, he sulked like a child would do best, perhaps to attract the attention of a parental figure. It worked, even without intent, but Krolia couldn't possibly know it was something else but his feeling of entrapment on this creature. She felt her baby needed caring, but didn't how to exactly deliver it - should she hug him? Massage his shoulders? Or at least make him talk so she could listen?

"Mom?" His voice was so fragile, his jaw contoured by the shadows of the fire. He looked miserable, ready to break Krolia's heart with that word that was supposed to make her a woman, a title she had but felt she didn't deserve.

"Yes?" She sat down next to him, and even the space wolf seemed to calm down, laying down as if to listen to him talk.

"It took me meeting you to see how much I followed in your steps." As a parent, as a failed one at that, it was the cruelest thing a son could have ever shared.

"I left the person I loved most." Keith used the heel of his hand to push at his eyes, dragging it down his cheeks and then tangling it in his hair.

"You did?" It felt natural now, to move closer and embrace him, even just partially. He didn't flinch, in fact, he seemed to hold on to his mom's fingers.

"Well, I didn't do it for a good cause like you - at least it wasn't my intention to become the fucking saviour of the universe! I, I just hopped inside a flying mechanical fucking space cat and ended up in this hellhole without realizing." Keith yelled, then whispered. He was tired, he was sick, but his pain was making him delirious.

"She, she wasn't even there! She was away, forging her future, our future.." Keith chocked on his words, and he begged his voice to stop, to go mute.

"I was supposed to move out of state with her when she finished highschool... She'd join the university of her dreams and I'd enroll into a high school there for my last year, since- since I couldn't go back to the Garrison." How could Keith have hidden this for so long?

"What happened? At the Garrison." Like a broken record, Krolia just asked questions. Knowing about her son's past just by him emotionally breaking down, it was the hardest. Maybe if she was there for him, things would have been different. But then again, it seemed like whoever this lady was she took good care of her son.

"I punched a teacher in the eye. Had a bad day." Krolia couldn't help the chuckle, and hid her face in Keith's shoulder.

"But I didn't fucking care! Garrison was behind me, all of it was. Life was good, we were young, but we knew exactly what we wanted." Young love was truly irreplaceable, but at the same time it was the most deceiving. Krolia wasn't one to talk, considering she knew nothing about her, and for sure she wouldn't want to bring him down. She had no choice but to believe him, with all her heart, that he knew what was better for him.

"There's one thing I know for sure about you Kogane men; once you fall in love you never let go. You might find her again one day if you search hard enough." That's when Keith couldn't take it anymore, and left his feelings boil into tears. He clenched his teeth and squeezed Krolia's fingers, curling his body forward.

"Will I? Out of thousands of people, will I ever see her again? She'll move on, I know she will, I'm no fucking saint-" Krolia has been caressing his curved back, offering him at least the amount of warmth she could give.

"Keith, look at me." In all seriousness, Krolia held it together to not weep along with his son, the memory of her lover, Keith's dad, now so fresh in her mind. They were cut from the same cloth, going through the exact thing, so if one made it, so could the other.

"There's nothing wrong with having hope. I never gave up on loving you, and now we're here." Keith cried out for his mother, and launched himself in her arms. For the first time, she was able to offer the motherly embrace he'd been missing on for so many years.

"How do you do it? Her face is getting blurry-  I can't... I don't want to forget her! How, how do I-" He pleaded between his sobs, scratching at his mother's suit.

"It's in the stars." Keith froze, hooked around Krolia's shoulders.

"What do you mean?" He let out, softly, as if scared.

"Love goes beyond stars or the universe itself. If you can learn to see her in every star, you'll never feel alone again."

Is this what it means to become strong? To accept, to trust and to move on? These two years, of nothing but thinking and fighting for belief, finding one self and the one next to him, the constant primal instinct, hunting, deprivation and white noise, all washing out whatever happened in his life before this abyss. Mistakes were forgiven, lies were forgotten, she became something more alike to a myth than a reality, her shine and spark lying in every star Keith set eyes upon, sending out all his heart. It might never happen, and he was okay with it. He will at least hold on to the last facial feature he could remember, so that if he dies in battle, he'll want to die thinking of his family. She, undoubtedly, was his family. For over two years, before fate pulled them apart, it was them against the world. Keith showed a genuine smile whenever he thought that she might've found the ring he engraved for her. A simple silver ring, with a K and her initial next to it, hidden in his pillow case. If he was honest, he purposely put it there for finding.

"We should call the sergeant now, shouldn't we? Cadet Griffin, would you like to do the honours?" Iverson looked at the boy, who was purposefully keeping his distance from the herd, and sighed without saying anything, rotating his soles on the sand dust and taking off. Old man Iverson seemed to grin at Keith for a reason unbeknownst to him; it surely set him off, giving him some uneasiness. He didn't ask, he preferred not to, looking around at the others being with their families after so long. He noticed Hunk's loneliness and urged to go comfort him, but before he could do that the sliding doors to the Garrison center opened. A figure walked out besides James in the heat of the sun, surrounded by a fiery orange aura. As it got closer, as she took her gaze off the documents she was holding, Keith's throat turned to sandpaper. The forms of her body seemed so foreign, a touch of death on her as well, bags under her eyes, drier, sicker skin. Even her hair seemed to lose pigment, but maybe it was Keith's eyes playing tricks on him. His mind - grown up somewhere else, estranged of the human ways, he was trying to process this woman before him, that had yet to notice him; where in the world had time gone to? What had it done with her, and why do her changes bring out old, yet fresh, yearnings and desires in Keith's body?

He didn't flinch a toe, even when she discovered his gaze. He waited for her to come to him, alike a ray of light. Luckily, desperation acted differently in her, as she dropped all her papers and pen before her feet, taking big yet careful steps towards his silhouette. With her right before him, he couldn't help move his eyes around, searching for something to hang on, something familiar, that would prove authenticity. She put a hand on his shoulder, looked him dead in his eyes; scared of his lack of reaction. She didn't want to feel rejected, but she was tortured by uncertainty. All questions were answered when, suddenly, a low whisper of her name left Keith's lips and heavy eyes shortly followed. He began crying, wailing to let everyone know, that it hurt, that it hurt for too long. He hugged this frame, this body that still seemed an illusion to him. Even his fantasies of seeing her again ended badly, this was something taken out of fiction. But it couldn't lie, and it surely didn't; the warmth behind her clothes, the shape of her shoulder blades, the soft whimpers that mangled with his. It was all real, but it was hard to believe.

He fell to his knees, his head burrowing in the shape of her belly; clinging on to anything he could, her waist, her legs. Unwillingly, one of her streaming tears fell on the top of Keith's hair. Shiro attracted her attention with a touch, whispering her name. Her eyes became even more watery; seeing his existence, his presence right there. She may have let out a cry when noticing his missing arm, his white hair, his tired look... But she was glad he, they, were all alive. Every single missing cadet was home, and that was wonderful. Gathering everyone's gazes, she fell along with Keith and snuggled closer in his embrace, grasping at his curved back. Breathing in his scent once more was something only dreams could achieve, hearing his voice - even if it was cries, feeling his heart beat against her forehead.

"I promised I wouldn't cry." Keith tried to laugh it off, chuckling between his cries and attempts to cling on even tighter.

"We're both crying so it doesn't count." She completed his words, like she always seemed to do, softly pushing away to look him in the eyes. They locked foreheads together, so close their lashes were fluttering against each other, until their fingers sought each other's face to wipe off the tears.

"You're back." She whispered, half in disbelief.

"I'm back, baby." Keith tested the waters, it was now or never anyways. He wouldn't and couldn't believe if she didn't move on by now, find another man, but something about the cold feeling on her right hand's ring finger told him she found the little present he left for her.

"Welcome back, love." He had no time to process what transpired, before his lips were enveloped by hers. An animalistic hunger bid his demise, he held her nape with force, his fingers racking her hair and forcing her body closer than humanly possible.

It was all too good to be true.

The first thing Keith did when entering her personal room, after a long debriefing and getting together with every lost friend and relative, was lie on her bed. It wasn't as comfortable or relaxing as he thought I'd be, as his armor was nudging at his hips and back, the feel of, well, padded plastic - but still hard plastic - being pushed into him because of the mattress. It wasn't awkward, although it seemed so, how she watched him from the middle of the room. She'd never thought she'd see him again, much more resting on her bed. She didn't want to bother him either, considering the brief story of their journey that she overheard being told to Sam Holt.

"Did you leave for college?" Keith grunted getting up to a sitting position, fixing his eyes on her. His gaze was somewhat intimidating. He was no longer her adolescentine lover, it was a man that just came back from war. He wasn't unfamiliar, but she indeed felt smaller compared to him, and not just in height - a difference that grew exponentially as well.

"I did. But Garrison called me back."

"And you became a sergeant?" He was proud of her, even if his question sounded more on the disbelief side.

"Strategist. I'm not... I don't participate in fights." Keith hummed, approving greatly to that. Least thing he wanted, battle scars on her body.

"What's with the scar?" Keith touched his cheek and smiled, seemingly falling in thought for a couple seconds.

"It's a long story, like the rest of them." She went ahead and sat next to him, signaling for him to go on.

"But can't I take a shower first? I stink and I really need to groom myself, space isn't forgiving." She sighed and let her head drop on his armored-covered shoulder, and Keith reached for her hand to hold in his.

"What's wrong?"

"This might sound stupid, but even letting you leave for a shower breaks my heart by this point." That was the moment when Keith's heart melted, when his dreams finally felt like they became reality. She was cold, even after they kissed in front of everyone, and maybe thought that was just the heat of the moment. It still wasn't clear, if they had the same intention, but he was for sure gonna try even if it meant his demise.

"Join me in the shower then." She looked surprised, speechless surprised, but not exactly pleasantly.

"Keith! I-" She retracted her hand from his and started flinging them around, making Keith grin at her cuteness.

"Did you date anyone while I was gone?" Unlike her disheveled, panicked state, Keith was calm, reaching out to hold her chin and gaze focused.

"No, I- I couldn't even crack a smile for an entire year, that's how much I-" His thick-skinned lips touched hers, ever so briefly, resulting in an instant calm-down. The taste of his breath was still there, the corners of his mouth, but his grip seemed somewhat harsher.

"Same here, baby." He guided her to his lap, and she was enveloped by his cold armor.

"Every night, I'd look at the stars and think of you... How much I wanted to talk to you, to tell you my stories." She cradled his face in her hands, especially running her fingers on the length of his dark scar.

"That I will listen to gladly." She pecked his lips with a grin, but screamed when Keith got off the bed with her hooked on his hips. She clung to his neck hastily.

"After we take a shower, that is." She wasn't completely content with the idea, but continued to hold on to him quietly as she was carried to the bathroom.

He didn't waste time starting to work on his armor after she was put down, struggling with a tight mechanism that seemed a lot simpler than she imagined. It was all happening too fast, but she didn't want to say it. Keith seemed in ninth heaven, almost like nothing went on, like no time had passed. She couldn't complain much, it wasn't like she was the one stuck in space for five years, but exactly because where he was and what transpired, she couldn't get over it so easily.

"I know what you're thinking." Keith voiced, finally being able to take off his chest piece.

"This is crazy, my lover from 5 years ago is forcing me to have sex with him, I haven't seen him in so long, he lived on alien planets, we can't just get back to where we were." When did Keith become so intuitive?

He propped his legs piece on the wall as well, having no shame or remorse in showing his body. His tall, barefoot figure advanced towards her and softly lain his fingers on the collar of her shirt.

"But we're adults now. We have the maturity to make and manage such a decision; I know we grew apart and can't forget those lost years, but I believe anything's possible. And I'm surely not giving up easily." Keith's speech made her whipped, calming down her insecurities. She never thought he'd be the one smart talking her, considering it was always the other way around.

"You're so mature now." She spoke, with a hint of mischief, starting to unbutton her shirt from bottom up. Keith did so as well, from top to bottom.

"It's hot." He chuckled and kissed her neck, then proceeded to take off her pants as well.

"Best things come with time, babygirl." He ate her giggles with a kiss, one that left her wanting more; then stripped off his boxers and entered the shower, turning on the hot water. The fast drops rained with stings, making him feel like he was finally home. He was ecstatic, his eyes shone with glee even while closed, lashes heavy with fervid water. She admired his bare back and tippy toes struggling on the warming tiles; then she took off her bra and panties and stepped in, so that the warmth wouldn't be lost.

Hugging his bare back felt like fantasy. It's all she ever dreamt of, all she ever wanted for so long. It was unbelievable how adulthood changed someone, how raw yet emotion-filled lust for someone could get. She was sure Keith felt the same.

He guided her, slowly, by the hand, to stand in front of him, water jumping on his head and landing on her body. After he bit his lips and told himself not to, he drank the poison and dared look her up and down, in all her glory.

"Forever young and beautiful." He mumbled, pushing closer and reaching for her hips.

"I'm not young anymore tho." She responded, holding and tracing his wet chest.

"But you grew beautifully." He started easy, closing his mouth on the side of her neck. He licked the water off, sucking her skin all the way to her ear.

"We didn't grow up together like we promised." Keith couldn't ignore her sad remark, sighing and looking her in the eyes.

"But we're here now." That reminded him of his mother, even if it was a little unholy while being naked with a woman in the shower.

"If there's something I leaned from mom after so many years, is that some things in life happen for a reason." He devishly waited for her perplexed expression, which she gave without hesitation.

"Your mom?" She almost screamed, eyes wide as the ocean. Keith simply chuckled and tried to avoid the subject for now.

"I'll tell you after; right now I want to feel every inch of you under my fingers." She squirmed under his forceful pull, under his kisses leading down her chest.

"But what about body wash? Uh, shampoo? You said-" She fought back, only verbally and mockingly, as her hands truly were tangled in his hair.

"I'm sure the shampoo knew this was also an excuse to get you naked." Her mouth was agape in disbelief, but she wasn't hiding her smile.

"New Keith has some tricks up his sleeve, babygirl."

They didn't even bother to put on clothes after the shower, laying in bed under a thick, white blanket, cuddled and talking all throughout the night. Her reactions to his every word and story filled his stomach, how she knit her eyebrows and asked him question after question. After finding out her lover was an alien, a Garla, a Blade of Marmora? ; his mom such a scary woman, what lies behind Kerberos, quintessence and what not, she voiced out that she would surely not be able to sleep. Therefore, Keith made love to her again, tiring out her body completely. And all this time, he was holding her hand, running his fingers on the his ring.

"Do you think this table is sturdy?" Keith asked, tapping the wood to catch her attention from the files she was going through. Still concentrated on them, the rationing of supplies and re-directioning of water and electricity, she wasn't exactly looking his way or trying to catch onto what he was saying.

"I believe so? We had some heavy weapon prototypes on it before."

"So you'd think it'll hold... laying you down on it and pulling a Christian Grey?" Keith spun her around from the digital screen, edging her into the table. She laughed dearly at him, resting her elbows on the wood and looking up at Keith.

"It'd hold, but people are gonna see." He smirked, leaning closer to flirt in her ear.

"And? I'm pretty sure everyone knows what's going on from two nights ago." She rolled her eyes and pushed him away, to glue her eyes back to the screen.

"You disappear in space for five years and come back a hungry animal, huh?"

"It was four for me, but; yeah, and I'm not ashamed of it. I'm hungry babe, don't starve me." Keith hugged her back, leaning his front body on her and talking from the crook of her neck with a whiny tone. Someone's voice and curses were heard down the corridor, and soon Lance froze in doorframe.

"Is this the right conference room? Oh, I guess it is since Keith and his girlfriend are about to have sex in it!" He puffed out sarcastically, thumping on his seat at the table.

"Hey Lance" Keith said unaffected, letting just a small distance form between him and his lover.

"Hi, Keith. You're living the good life, aren'tcha? I'm sure sex is the most important to you right now, not like, you know, saving Earth!" Lance almost spit forward, attacking his leader with a fury that was of course, directed at himself more than them. He knew all too well Keith was taking care of both his team and responsibilities even with a lover, but the surprise of her existence and Keith's success in love racked his ego.

"Lance, please don't take out your jealousy on us. It's not my fault you weren't a man to Allura from the beginning." He glared at Keith, childishly, and retorted back in seconds.

"Shut up, mullet! Your hair isn't even a mullet anymore, fuck!" A female giggle was heard, easing out into the air. Lance was a little remorseful, and also felt like he was being taken as a joke, so he shut up. He watched them have small lovey-dovey interactions while discussing some economics, boiling on the inside. Keith noticed him, even just with the corner of his eye, and knew Lance wanted to continue this fight, or hear anything at all that would ease his nerves.

"You see that? If you ever get embarrassed with me, think that you're not the only one in love with an alien." He told his lover mockingly, but Lance's reaction was weaker and less rage-filled.

"Ha, right! Have you seen the Galras? They're fricking ugly. Your man is gonna turn into a purple man-beast and chew on your flip-flops." Letting her neck fall backwards then hiding her face between her arms on the table, she laughed whole-heartedly.

"You're a funny man, Lance. Does Allura like funny?" He was flustered, and pretended not to think that this stranger's laugh wasn't adorable, like Keith wasn't such a lucky man.

"She's serious almost all the time, but I think she secretly adores funny. And Lance." He jumped out of his chair and slammed a hand on the table, but then fell back down with a sigh and spoke quietly.

"Can you not? I appreciate it, you're trying to encourage me. But I really don't wanna hear it from "the perfect couple". Stop reminding me how stupid I was for only taking my feelings seriously now." She hummed, walking over to pat Lance's shoulder. The gesture wasn't taken lightly.

"How did Krolia use to say? Some things in life happen for a reason?" She walked back into Keith's embrace, who was grinning happily.

"Perfectly quoted."

"You've already told her about your mom?" Lance was trying to hide his curiosity until now, considering that it really wasn't his business who this woman was. Keith didn't say anything either, so he figured he didn't want to talk about it, or didn't want to share; but truly, he wanted to know what was going on.

"She's heard me talk for years about how much I hated my mom for leaving me. Of course she's the first one I wanted to tell." Some gears started moving in his brain, he began understanding how exactly they became a couple on the first day of coming back home.

"Woah, so you guys go way back?"

"Yeah, we were 15 when we met." When Lance was fifteen, he became an uncle. He's never had the joy of having a true girlfriend, considering all the responsibilities he had at home.

"15? Oh man, you were still in the Garrison then!" Keith ignored the low kick Lance just did, playing it like he didn't understand it.

"Yeah, we started dating when I was still in school."

"And you stayed with him even when he was kicked out?" Lance was already on the edge of his seat, dying to ask more and more questions.

"Yep." Her answer was short and sweet, looking up at her lover with a pride that she could never express in words. He might have been a dawdler then, but every choice had its reward.

"You chose to love a man with no education, an ugly jacket, a rat mullet and shed in the middle of nowhere? You have some weird tastes, woman." Laughter rose up in the room again, this time Lance falling for her contagious sounds, making Keith feel like it was two against one.

"Hey, don't laugh at that!" He whined, crossing his arms around her waist to lift her up, but before that, someone else found the conference room.

"I see you guys are having fun."

"Hey, Shiro!" She chirped, moving around the chairs to go give him a side hug. He had just one hand to hug back with, but he did it anyways.

"Hey sweetie."

"You too? You know Shiro as well?" It was funny how awkward Lance was at the beginning of the conversation, how he only referred to her as "Keith's girl" and now he was shamelessly throwing questions and accusations at the woman.

"There wasn't a Keith without Shiro, especially back then." She felt safe between the two of them. It brought back the smell of the floor wax Shiro used to use in his apartment, long nights in front of the TV, all three of them and Adam. She tried not to think of Shiro's pain, and only bring positivity to him.

"Well, if it wasn't for Keith, there wouldn't be a Shiro today."

"Thank you Keith!" Hunk chirped then ran off, saying he's going to go save his parents. She heard everything from around the corner, and couldn't be prouder of her man. A leader, a friend, a lover - Keith was exceeding at everything now. It was mesmerizing.

"Oh, hey." Hunk almost clumsily bumped into her, stopping his heels barely.

"Hey, Hunk." She greeted him back with a smile, but noticed the swing in his feet.

"Uhm, you look lovely today!" He didn't want to seem rude, nor drag it on. He blubbed something out then took off running down the corridor behind her, with the most determined look he had.

"Hunk, wait!" Keith also came out of the kitchen, ready to run after Hunk but hailed as well when spotting her.

"What?!" Hunk shouted from the end of the corridor, only turning his head back slightly.

"Meet me in the bay in 15 minutes! I'll come with you!"

"Okay!" Only after he was done screaming, it dawned on him - she was right there. She might not agree on this idea.

However, besides the obvious sadness showing, she gave a kind smile.

"Baby..." Keith began, but wasn't able to finish.

"I know, I know." She stepped forward and buried her face in his chest, holding on to his shoulders.

"I'm proud of you. You're a great friend." Keith sighed and caressed her hair, kissing the top of her head.

"Just; get back safely, please." He noticed she was scared, but he couldn't back out now. She had to yet see the extent of his skill in battle, so maybe if she knew she wouldn't worry that much. He hated it as much as she did, leaving her behind to fear for his life.

"I will, baby; I promise. I'm never leaving you alone again." He hoped with his entire being that it wasn't an empty promise.

"I'll wait for you. I won't close an eye before you get back in bed with me." Keith grinned at her words, hugging her tighter.

"Just like old times."

Keith didn't even knock, he stormed inside the room in the quiet, dreadful evening before the storm.

"Baby?" She saw something was wrong; he was panicking, he was all over the place. It brought back memories.

"It's the last day, isn't it?"

"Before the mission?" He paced around, not giving attention to how anxious he was making her feel. She was bottling it up; like she wasn't terrified of what was about to come.

"Yeah." He breathed out, messing up his hair, then finally resting on the bed, but still moving his hands all around his knees. He was impatient.

"I tried talking about this with Shiro, I would have even gone to Lance if he was any help, but I don't think he'd be; but then I realized this is something between us, and there's no one else I could ask but you." Keith spoke hurriedly, letting off weight from his chest cryptically, and for the first time in the last two weeks, he was avoiding her eyes.

"Keith, slowly babe, I don't understand. What do you want to ask?" She caught one of his hands in both of hers, attracting Keith's attention to the shine of the ring.

"What I want to ask, uhh..." Keith trailed off, lowering his head on her lap.

"Baby?" He was freaking her out somewhat, but she tried to keep calm and leave her smooth voice soothe him. He rose again and looked her in the eyes for a brief second, before closing them and dragging some air into his lungs.

"It's this and we're done. But it's not an easy target, it's fucking Sendak... that motherfucker almost killed us all before. Plus, calling the lions; I'm worried, I am."

"Ihmm..."

"I feel so selfish, living my best with you while in this time of crisis, but I'm so damn happy I found you I could die happily now."

"Keith..." He knew he shouldn't say things like that, he shouldn't sadden her now, before the bad even happened...

"I'm sorry, I'm trailing off... Us, we, we only got together two weeks ago, five years passed by... but for me, for me those could as much be inexistent. It's like I fell asleep next to you, in the old shack, then woke up here, on our first morning together."

"Yeah...?" She's been searching his face for clues, but still couldn't figure out what he was going on about.

"I've lost you, haven't I?" She nodded, sucking in her lips and giving him an apologetic look.

"Frankly, yeah, I don't know what you're building up to."

"Okay, I'll try this again." He slapped his thighs, filling his cheeks with air. She did nothing more than smoothly continue the conversation with the responses he hopefully wanted to receive.

"Okay."

"I need some advice from you."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Should I, uhm. Ask you to marry me?"

"What?" She let out as a whisper, watching him quietly in disbelief.

"Please don't overreact, I just... I regretted all my days for not doing it before I left.

I mean, would it even be logical to? It's been so long, we still don't know our differences, and I'm worried-" Instead of overreacting, she fell into thought as Keith ranted his insecurities. But she felt like the answer was formed on her lips since years ago. Like they were molded to say one thing only.

"I'd say yes." The look in his eyes couldn't be described, it wasn't happiness nor fear, it was something in between. He got what he wanted, but a wicked side of him hoped she wouldn't have agreed.

"And what if I die? If I don't make it out of this mission? Or any other, for that matter?"

"Then I'll proudly carry your name till the day I die."

"Oh, fuck. I think I'm gonna cry again." Keith lowered his head, supported only by his hands that were now deep buried in the sheets and mattress. She hugged his frame, laying her head on his back. She almost didn't notice Keith fidgeting with her fingers, pulling out his ring from her right hand.

He rolled off the bed, drying his eyes with his sleeve, looking up at her, propping himself up on one knee.

"Would you... would you put up with me for the rest of your life? With this apparent hero, that you turned into a man so long ago? Would you be ready to lose me again? Would you think of me even long after I'm gone, smiling?

Would you like to be mine and mine only, my miss Kogane?"

"Yes." His hands shook as he put on the ring, this time on her left hand. It looked perfect there, finally not out of place.

He climbed back on the bed, kissing her lips like it was the last time, because truly, it might be.

"Sooo, you guys are getting married?" Pidge nudged her side, in the dimly lit hospital room. Everyone gathered in the same room, to rejoice their victory in their recovery time.

"Yeah." Keith brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring.

"Can I be your bride's mate?" Pidge excitedly wiggled her eyebrows, continuing to push into the woman like a kitten.

"I mean, I don't know you for long, but we have to have a ladies' night if you really wanna spend the rest of your life with this dweeb. Right, Allura?" She took a minute to process that she's been addressed, and also because she had no idea what the word 'dweeb' meant.

"Yes, of course! We're all friends here!" Corran nodded from the side, giving the lady a charismatic wink.

Everyone turned their heads towards the door, which seemed to have been ajar all this time, without anyone noticing a certain someone was peeking in.

"Then how about you come give your ol' friend a hug then?" He maneuvered through the beds and people, to be met with her running embrace. They squeezed each other tightly.

"Matt!" He chuckled and patted her hair, giving Keith a smirk and wink. Keith rolled his eyes.

"Missed me?"

"Fuck yeah!" He pinched her cheeks like a grandma would do, then noticed his sister looking somewhat emotionally constipated.

"Wait, wait, wait. Don't tell you too also knew each other like, all your lives?"

"Almost, haha."

"I'm suing. I'm suing all y'all. And here I was, whining all my life about not having a best friend."

"Well, you'll have one now, sis." Matt guided her back to the seat in the back, making some space in there as well. They all began talking this and that again, but in small groups rather than all together. Suddenly, she called out to everyone to listen to her.

"Okay, bear with me, but; I want to let his out.

Besides my friends, you guys are also my heroes. You've heard this a thousand times before, but thank you. Not only for saving the universe, but also for taking care of Keith while I couldn't." She cringed herself at her words, but the others seemed to smile and pat her back, those who could reach her. The others showed her a thumbs up, Lance even clapped.

"I couldn't have put it better." Krolia didn't know who's voice she was agreeing with, but she seemed to have walked in in the perfect moment.

"Mom! Kolivan!" Keith let go of everything and stepped over the people on the floor to go and hug his mom, then give a handshake to his former commander.

"Hey baby. Are you feeling better?" Her long fingers moved the hair from his eyes, careful not to touch the bandage on his head.

"Yeah, I am, but; tell me you've told me so, please." She looked confused, firstly looking around the room. She saw a new face between known people, but then again, she couldn't be familiar with everyone.

"I've told you so?"

"Good, now look who I found." He caught her hand and forcefully dragged her in front of him, in front of Krolia. She was nervous, giving off a smile that might have seen weird.

"Hello Mrs. Krolia." Things became clear soon, mainly because the possessive grip her son had on this woman's waist. She accepted it fairly easily, and couldn't be happier.

"Son, you're so damn lucky." Kolivan had no clue what was going on, so his stand was awkward next to the three of them.

"I'm actually way luckier than you think.

And please don't scream at me." Against her subtle protesting, he lifted up her left hand and proudly showed off the ring to his mom. Both females didn't react well, one bracing and on wrinkling her brows greatly.

"Keith, don't tell me you did-"

"I did." His courage to stay positive about it and not show any regret or fear towards his mom was what made her give in. From the stories he told, from all the nights he cried about losing her, she could realize this what all he ever wanted. She couldn't scream at her son for finally having his wish granted. Repercussions were to arise later, but now it was alright.

"I honestly never thought I'd see the day I become a mother-in-law. Come here, sweethearts."  Keith's glee was voiced with a giggle that showed nothing but innocence; the differences between melted in that one embrace, and suddenly they were all one.

"Welcome to the Kogane's."

"And this is Black." The last on the list to be showed off, sat calmly in the bay, with glassy eyes. Her tall presence was overwhelming.

"She's... wow." She touched her leg carefully, tracing the metal like it was fragile.

"Let us in, kitten." Black began moving, and she surely jumped a little, running to Keith's side. When the ramp was down, they walked inside, with Keith holding her tightly to his side. But once in, the fear seemed to wash off, as she began inspecting everything. He waited patiently, resting his arm around the chair in the center command. He called her over after some time, to show her the interface as well.

"Take a sit, experience the paladin life." She hesitated, but Keith ultimately pushed her down by the shoulders. She took in every button, every pedal, lever and joystick. It was all still way too new to her, but with Keith's help she'll maybe, someday, understand this lifestyle.

"Babe, I always knew you were a brilliant pilot, but how do you even? This looks super complicated." He chuckled under his breath, reaching for her left hand which he's grown obsessed with.

"And it's also in Altean."

"Oh, Jesus." She rolled her head on the chair, scoffing as if she didn't expect something like that.

"Well Black, meet my future wife. I've told you lots about her, if you remember."

She knew there was something magical, life-filled with the lions, but it surely felt weird to have her fiancé talk to the air in a robotic cat. Some sort of rustle ensued, a vibrating energy that burst into yellow lights in Black's eyes. The windows turned into direct camera feed, every button lighting up and screen over screen popping up. She was left speechless.

"Seems like she likes you." She couldn't help but accept it, grin it off as some sort of compliment. One day, she thought, one day it'll all make sense.

"Hey, Black, how about we go out for a bit?"

"Keith, wait-" For that, she wasn't yet ready. She wanted to scram off and out, but she couldn't.

"Don't worry, I don't even have to touch the pedals to pilot her. What about the moon? You always loved the moon."

"Keith, nooooo-!"

Their smiles decorated the stars, their laughs echoed in the void of the universe. And they would've forever done so, if Haggar didn't have different plans...

 Masterlist

[imaginecoderealize]

What would be everyone's reaction to suddenly finding themselves under the mistletoe with the person they have a crush on?

I am sorry for not getting to these out on Christmas Day. I tried, but the holiday was busier and my niece’s jolly holiday gift of a cold made me more sluggish than I expected. I will get to the rest in the queue ASAP! 

These are a little long all together, so they are going under a cut. Mod Apostle covered the Gang, while Mod Nautilus is smooching villains!

Mod Apostle’s headcanons:

Lupin: 

Lupin thought the tradition of kissing under mistletoe was terribly romantic and made sure to hang bunches strategically around the mansion. He was careful not to get caught himself, but he enjoyed watching his confused friends getting kissed. He laughed until he cried when Saint kissed Van. Van’s shocked expression was priceless. 

Lupin himself thought he was immune to the prank. He knew where all the bunches were, after all. 

He was standing in the foyer when he felt a hand on his shoulder and smelled a familiar sweet perfume. 

He turned and saw her, the girl he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. He didn’t know she was coming. His heart skipped a beat to see her after so long. She was so beautifully dressed in her holiday velvet gown with her hair falling soft around her shoulders. He was uncharacteristically tongue tied, but gathered himself and greeted her formally. 

She said good afternoon with an amused sparkle in her beautiful eyes, and without warning, slipped her hand behind his head and pulled his lips to hers. 

It took a moment for Lupin’s head to catch up with what was happening, but luckily his heart needed no such instruction. He pulled her close and gave her an ardent, gentle kiss. Her heart beat fast against his chest and her pretty face was flushed when he finally pulled away. 

He heard a light laugh above his head and they both looked up to see a bunch of mistletoe suspended on a string. Standing on the staircase above were Saint and Impey with identical mischievous smiles on their faces. 

Lupin silently thanked his meddling friends and pulled his lady tightly against his chest, “Merry Christmas.” he said softly, and once again pressed his lips to hers. 

….

Van:

Van was only vaguely aware of the tradition of mistletoe before his foolishly romantic friends started hanging the stuff everywhere in the mansion. He didn’t see the appeal In such a thing. It was just an excuse for people to make fools of themselves. 

 So why was he sitting there staring moodily at his drink and thinking about it? 

He dismissed it from his mind. He would not participate in such nonsense. It didn’t matter if…

Van saw her speaking with Delacroix. The girl who caught his eye every time she walked in the room. Her gentle figure and strong spirit captivated him. He was content to watch her, and enjoy listening to her lovely voice. Just her presence made his burdens seem lighter.

He watched her walk towards him with a bright smile on her face. 

He gave her his customary wave. No, he would not try to get her under the mistletoe. He was an adult man, not some infatuated boy. 

She walked up and greeted him warmly. He couldn’t help but smile just to see her up close. Her modest gown suited her well. She was truly a beautiful woman.

He rose and bowed to her, as was only proper. He offered to get her a drink, and she accepted graciously. 

He would certainly not do anything stupid. 

He returned with drinks but saw that she was now speaking with Duke Renfield near the entryway… 

Under the blasted mistletoe. 

He waited for the Duke to depart before approaching her with the drinks. He tried to forget the bunch of plants over their heads as they chatted. It was irrelevant… even if her lips looked very soft stained with sweet wine, and her face radiant with happiness… was she so happy to speak with him? His heart seemed to be beating too fast. Perhaps just a single kiss would be all right… 

He leaned close and their lips met. She gasped a little but answered him with surprising hunger. He slid his arm around her back, forgetting for the moment that they were surrounded by revelers who were watching the proceedings with great interest and amusement. 

“Should we arrange a room for you two?” Duke Renfield asked with a laugh. 

Van pulled away quickly. He was sure his face was as red as his lady’s. He cleared his throat, “It is just traditional…” he muttered, pointing at the mistletoe. He fervently hoped Delacroix was elsewhere…

“Ha ha! You told Impey that mistletoe was stupid!” Delacroix laughed, throwing his arms around the two of them, “wait til I tell him, Helsing!” 

Van took a deep breath. The young man was a king. It would not do to punch him, even if he deserved it. 

He gave his lady a rueful smile. He could still see desire in her eyes and feel the imprint of her lips on his. He supposed mistletoe wasn’t so bad after all. 

….

Fran: 

Fran was working late, as usual. Patients’ problems didn’t stop, even on Christmas. 

He sighed as he mixed the last vial of medicine. A baby with a fever had kept both Fran and the child’s parents up all night. He felt like throwing himself in bed and sleeping for a week. 

He gazed sadly at the invitation he’d received to the party at Saint’s mansion. He had sent word earlier that he couldn’t make it, but it made him feel lonely. He would see everyone tomorrow, but it wasn’t quite the same. He wished he could have asked… no, he certainly couldn’t do that. She would definitely not accept…

He heard a knock on the door. 

He sighed again and did his best to slap himself awake, hoping fervently that it wasn’t another feverish baby. He opened the door. 

It wasn’t an anxious parent, but a girl he was very pleased to see, though he wished he didn’t feel so run down. She was wrapped tightly in her coat and carrying a festive package. She greeted him and handed him the package, saying it was a token of her appreciation for the care of her father.  

The sight of her sweet face revived him as nothing else would have. He mustered the best smile he could and thanked her for her kindness. 

She noticed his exhaustion, of course. She  was always caring and observant. She insisted on staying and fixing him some soup and he opened his gift of her handmade cookies and sweetbreads. He listened to her lively voice and sipped strong tea until he was finished his meal. 

When she finally took her leave they stood dithering on the doorstep, she took his hands in hers and jokingly asked if he had kissed all his patients that day and if that was a healthy practice. 

He was confused as to her meaning, so she pointed up to the doorframe. 

A bunch of mistletoe was hung from a nail over the door. He certainly didn’t put it there. 

He looked down at her expectant face and felt as if he had caught the baby’s fever. 

“Ah, that… I didn’t put that there… um…” this was too embarrassing. 

She giggled and pulled his head down to hers to kiss him. 

He froze in a panic. The feel of her lips on his filled him with a rush of emotions and feelings he wasn’t prepared for in his frazzled, exhausted state. 

She gave him a smile and wished him good night before turning to go. 

“Wait!” he shouted, grabbing her hand. 

He pulled her to him and, holding her close, he lifted her chin and leant down to kiss her gently. She clutched his coat, moaning a little as she leant into the kiss. 

They were both breathless when he pulled away. 

“Will you come with me to the party tomorrow?” he asked her, feeling unprecedentedly bold. 

She agreed immediately, much to his relief. He felt a lot happier when she finally took her leave. His loneliness forgotten. He would be sure to get plenty of rest before tomorrow. He couldn’t disappoint his sweetheart. 

….

Impey: 

Impey was hard at work in the kitchen preparing for the holiday feast. He already finished the entrees and appetizers. Now all that was left was the desserts. He found a new recipe for brandy fudge and was giving the sticky, warm chocolate a taste test when he heard someone enter the kitchen. 

“Hey! No samples before dinner! Licking the spoon is the privilege of the chef!” he cried, looking back to see who entered his domain. 

A beautiful lady stood in the doorway still dressed in her overcoat. Her bright eyes were shining. He didn’t know she was coming to the party so early.  He would have gladly given her the whole bowl of fudge if it made her happy, but she just gave him a smile and left too quickly for him to offer. 

Feeling excited to see her again, he finished up and went to change his shirt before taking the dishes to the dining room. A vigorously boiling pot had splattered sauce over his sleeve and it wouldn’t do for his lovely angel to see him in such a dilapidated state. 

He turned a corner towards his room when he saw her outside the door, hanging up her overcoat. She was wearing a golden gown that left a surprising amount of her uncovered. He stopped in the hallway and stared. Then he saw it… the bunch of mistletoe over her head. Was she waiting for him there on purpose? Or was it just a stroke of amazing luck? That passionate plant offering its blessing to kiss this divine vision before him.

He bounded towards her excitedly, afraid she would move away and the moment would be lost. 

But then a moment of hesitation entered his heart… what if she didn’t want it? 

She turned to him with a smile and that was enough to tell him that she didn’t object. He swept her in his arms and kissed her gently, “Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas.” she said, and leant in to kiss him back sweetly, licking his lips before pulling away, “Is it all right to sample the chef before dinner?” 

Yes, he agreed enthusiastically. It was MORE than all right. 

….

Saint:

A crush? What a strange word for one such as him. Saint contemplated it for a awhile. He had seen countless people in the first blush of infatuation. It was one thing that never changed and wouldn’t as long as people existed. He had to admit he had been the object of others’ intrigue and misplaced desire, as well. It brought them nothing but suffering. Even if he was too weak to refuse them, he always had to let them down in the end. 

He was, however, unused to the feeling himself. What a odd thing it was. To experience such joy when someone was near. To feel warmth at the mere sight of another person. It also carried a sense of anxiety that the other person might not feel the same way. He was the last who would inflict himself on someone unwanted, least of all this girl who so captured his heart. 

He quite uncharacteristically didn’t know what to do. 

The source of his conundrum sat quietly reading a book near the fireplace, oblivious to the jittery confusion in the heart of the man sitting across the room. Her concentration on her book was absolute. He was sure she wasn’t even aware that he was there. 

Saint sighed to himself. He truly had no right to bother her. He rose from his chair and decided to leave her in peace.

She looked up the moment he moved. Her eyes questioning his departure. Perhaps she was more aware of him than he thought. 

Impulsively he asked her if she would mind walking with him, to which she happily agreed, much to his delight. 

She allowed him to tuck her hand beneath his arm on their stroll through the long halls of the mansion. She didn’t question his odd request. Was she perhaps leaning a little closer to him as he spoke of winter traditions of the past? He knew she was an intelligent girl, with a bright and curious mind. She always listened raptly to his stories for the pleasure of learning. It was one of the many reasons he was so delighted by her company, but it was more than that. Her presence was a peace he had never known before. Now that he was free, he could be allowed to contemplate such peace. It was heady and frightening at once. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him curiously as they stopped and gazed out the glass door at the fiery sunset. 

He was at a loss for words, and cast around for an innocent topic. His eyes fell upon the bunch of mistletoe suspended on the he doorframe above their heads, “Ah, there is a tradition we haven’t discussed. Mistletoe was sacred to many ancient cultures as a fertility symbol. In France it is given as a gift of peace and good luck for the new year. In Britain-“

“Kissing.” she said, blushing very prettily, “Most recently it has been used as an excuse for people to kiss each other.” 

“Yes, That is so.” Saint kept his voice unruffled by long practice, “Many lovers observe its history as a symbol of fertility and luck by kissing beneath it.” he hoped she didn’t she didn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice as he spoke the latter sentence. 

She nodded and gazed up at the bunch of sacred mistletoe above their heads, “If it is to honor the gods… perhaps we should?” she looked away nervously. 

Saint was startled. Did she truly feel as he did? He gave her a smile… a true smile from his heart, “Honoring the gods is never amiss, my sweet lady.” he said very gently, and softly touched her face. He could feel her trembling beneath his fingers. It lit a fire in his heart he thought gone cold long ago, but he held back and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Just a fleeting touch before pulling back, to gauge her reaction. 

“Please…” she said softly, her eyes holding a fire to match his own. 

Something in his heart gave way and he again lowered his lips to hers. She yielded willingly to his gentle explorations, and he reveled in the sound of her breaths, the softness of her lips… the taste of her tongue. If they were honoring the gods, it could only be those of love and desire. 

He pulled away reluctantly and breathlessly. Her flushed face and shining eyes held a deep, passionate longing. Oh, how he wished to answer it. All of it… but the time was not yet right. There were many things she needed to know about him first. However… perhaps for the first time… he was truly looking forward to the future. 

….

Here, handling the villains as usual, are Mod Nautilus’ Mistletoe headcanons!

Mistletoe~

Nemo:

Meeting the object of his affections under the mistletoe isn’t really on his radar.

What IS on his radar is meeting EVERYBODY under the mistletoe because he has it HANGING FROM HIS HEAD on a headband he constructed the night prior.

… Unfortunately, Impey ends up taking it from him after a bad encounter involving Van Helsing and a very traumatized Fran.

So he’s moping, not realizing that he’s moping under the mistletoe until he feels a pair of soft lips on his cheek.

I mean, he just looked so sad sitting there all by himself, you know?

“H-HEEEY! Wait a minute, I didn’t do it proooper–!”

Nemo yanks his crush back to him with a surprising amount of strength, though he doesn’t immediately kiss them, instead choosing to rub his nose against theirs.

“Meeeeerry Christmaaaaaas–! [SMOOCH!]”

Aleister:

The object of Aleister’s affections probably doesn’t even realize that they’re standing under the mistletoe. They’re probably just talking with a friend, smiling, sipping their cider and enjoying the atmosphere.

But when their friend steps away, they suddenly feel another presence next to them, warm and eerily comforting.

Jimmy A. Aleister smiles down at them before leaning forward, the bristles of his mustache tickling their skin as he whispers: “Merry Christmas” before pressing his lips to their cheek.

Avido:

Avido has made his intentions clear from the very moment he realized he wanted his paramour (’crush’ is a rather childish term, don’t you think?). Mistletoe and, indeed, Christmas itself is another game piece in this delightful game of cat and mouse he’s been participating in.

Both he and his paramour know about the mistletoe. It’s obvious, couples have been stealing kisses all evening. The two of them purposefully play nearby, never interacting but allowing their social circles to get dangerously close to the poisonous plant.

But his paramour still lets out a surprised gasp when Avido suddenly stands next to them, offering a drink with that charming smile on his face.

Kissing under the mistletoe is a little too juvenile for a man of Avido’s taste, but using it as a starting point for an invitation elsewhere? Perhaps a place a little more secluded, where lips already sweet with wine can finally meet…

[silkkpopbonnet]

Dilemma

Back in her room, Yeon told Marcella what her friend already knew to be true. Marcella shook her head and listened. Marcella’s hanbok had been delivered while Yeon was gone, and she held the dress in her lap running her fingers over the fabric.

“What if he’s not so bad?” It was just like Marcella to look on the bright side of things. She ran her hand over her box braids, fingering the bands on some of them.

“Please, don’t find a bright side in this. My dad is trying to arrange me into a marriage.” Yeon put her head down on her vanity, wondering where her life was going. She couldn’t be a complacent, quiet wife, by her husband's side, doing his bidding.

Holding up a hand Marcella stopped her from saying more. “He never said that, a possible marriage. Look at it this way. Dating was never really great for you in Atlanta.”

Yeon opened her mouth to say more, but Marcella stopped her. “It was not, so don’t try to make something up, I’m your best friend. You never dated long, you didn’t like the guys. Maybe, just maybe this isn’t so bad. What if you meet him, he’s attractive, he’s a pretty nice guy. You fall in love.”

Yeon had to admit what if Marcella was right. Her normal upbeat attitude about things did keep her sane. Yeon sighed, propping her head on her hand. “Why, do you have to be so positive and helpful? This isn’t a fairy tale, either. It could go exactly as I predict, and he could be a self-righteous asshole.”

“He could be, but we don’t know yet, so we have to see.” Marcella stood up, placing her dress on the bed. “If it doesn’t work out, your dad has to back off, right? there’s no way he’s going to let his daughter date multiple dudes in his company. Looks bad.” Marcella stood in front of Yeon, poking her cheek. “Smile.”

Several pokes later, Yeon slapped her friend's hand away. “Whatever, we will see if you’re right.”

Later that night, Yeon sat at the table her hands in her lap, her hanbok freshly pressed and she waited for her father to bring in this Jun Seo. Marcella was all smiles sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Yeon, stop scowling.” Her mother said, fixing a napkin in front of her.

Yeon sighed. ‘Ma, please.”

“Stop scowling, smile, and be polite. Look at Marcella, she’s ready for action.” Leaning her head towards, Marcella.

“I really don’t want to get in the middle of this, I’m just supporting Yeon.” Marcella put her hands up in defense.

Just as Yeon was about to say something, her father entered the room again. The man that followed him was taller than her father. He had to be at least 6′0″, his face was chiseled, a strong jaw, hair cut short, he wore a light gray suit, with a red shirt matching her hanbok. As Marcella and her mother stood, Yeon almost forgot too, and she scrambled up, bowing saying hello.

“I suppose, that means you find him attractive?” Her mother whispered.

Yeon ignored her mother, as her father made introductions, saving Yeon for last. “This is my daughter, I’ve told you about. Hyo Park Yeon.”

He bowed towards Yeon before taking her hand, kissing it lightly. “It’s a pleasure actually meeting you, I’ve only seen your pictures in your father’s office. Call me Jun Seo.”

She bowed back, her face heating up as he kissed her hand. Marcella gave her the ‘yes, girl take him’ face, as she smiled at Jun Seo. “Yeon is what everyone usually calls me.”

Her father instructed Jun Seo to sit next to her, and they began dinner. Of course, her father would make Jun Seo talk about his accomplishments while boasting of the things that Yeon did in college. He talked about her stellar GPA, volunteering at animal shelters, her proficiency in English, Korean and French. During the course of dinner, Jun Seo gradually scooted himself closer to her, until his thigh was touching her own under the table.

“You look beautiful, I must admit, much better than in your pictures.” Jun Seo whispered as he leaned over into her space, his breath touched her neck.

Silently, she damned Marcella as she shivered at the contact. He was handsome, funny, witty, accomplished, and he seemed to like her, but did they have anything in common? So far, besides speaking English and Korean, nothing. She nodded at what he said, determined to play hard to get. As dinner ended, and dessert began, her parents excused themselves to the kitchen to check on ‘the preparations’ they said, as Marcella excused herself to the bathroom. Yeon tried to give Marcella a face to stay, but her friend smiled leaving her in the room with Jun Seo.

“So, you’re 20, you were living in Atlanta, you’re still in college majoring in business economics and a minor in math. That’s boring stuff, I want to know you.” His voice was deep, the bass of it seemed to drum in her ears, and make her all the more aware of how long it had been since she was this close to a man.

“Like what? Be specific.” She turned towards him, willing herself not to smile.

He flashed his pearly whites at her, taking her fingers in his too warm hand. “Your hand is cold, are you nervous?”

She tried to remove her hand, but he held on tight. “No. It’s cold in here.”

Jun Seo moved her hand towards his mouth, blowing warm air on her fingers. “It’s warm to me.”

“You’re quite hands-on, aren’t you?” She asked him raising an eyebrow.

Immediately he let her hand go. “I’m sorry, does that bother you? I assumed since you are not Korean, it wouldn’t bother you to physically show affection.”

Ok, what? Yeon scrunched her nose up, sliding back from him. “I am Korean.” She felt irritation creep into her chest. “I am also black, I can be both. I don’t have to choose.”

Jun Seo smiled at her. “I simply meant, you are not full Korean. You don’t have the stigmas of a woman who grew up here. America is…more open to that sort of thing.”

“I am not full Korean. I’m a black woman. So, you would assume, I was ok with you touching me? You would think I was sexually open?” She put her balled fist under her chin, watching him search for what to say.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” He put his hands up in defense. “I think what I said was wrong. We grew up in different households, perhaps what I know is not what you know. You spent a lot of time in America, and correct me if I am wrong, but if a man likes a woman there, it is acceptable for him to show physical affection. I simply thought you would be alright with this.”

She watched his face, he was trying to placate her. She decided to let it go, for now, turning away from him, taking a drink from her glass, saying nothing.

“Am I wrong?” His fingers gently brushed the curls on the back of her neck.

She shivered, mentally hating herself for not being immune to his charms. “When I don’t like it, I’ll be more than happy to let you know.”

He laughed, letting his hand fall down her back. “Your father said you had a tongue with fire on it.” Leaning in close to her, she could smell his cologne, he let his mouth graze near her ear, his arm settling in front of her, his hand covering her own. “I don’t think I mind getting burned.”

Yeon felt her heart damn near fall into her stomach, it had been so long since she even let a man touch her sexually. ‘You will not sleep with him, you will not kiss him.’  She chanted in her mind. Just as she was about to answer however, her parents came back into the room, her mother carrying dessert.

“I hope we weren’t gone too long.” She felt the absence of his heat near her, his thigh wasn’t even touching hers anymore, and she almost missed it.

Marcella came back into the room, not meeting her eyes, as she sat down. After dinner, Mr. Hyo and Jun Seo went to his office to talk, while the ladies went into the parlor.

“He’s very nice, isn’t he? And handsome too, your father wouldn’t disappoint you.” She stood next to the door of the parlor, holding onto Marcella’s arm. “We will leave you in here now, I think your father will bring Jun Seo in awhile.”

“Wait, what?” Before she could protest, both women left her in the parlor, standing in the middle of the room, looking like an idiot.

It wasn’t long before Jun Seo came in, closing the door behind him, he brought a glass of wine with him. “I bring a gift.” He settled himself on the couch, waiting for her.

“Look, Jun Seo.” He cut her off, putting the glass into her hand as she sat down.

“Drink, take the edge off your nerves.” He took a sip of his own, staring at her.

“No, I’m going to talk thank you. Don’t get any delusions of grandeur in your head. I’m 20, I’m not looking for marriage.” She took a sip of her wine, staring him down, accessing him.

“I realize. We can date a few years.” He smiled at her and continued to speak before she could protest. “You don’t know me well, I understand. We just met, but from what I can see, and what I know. I like you. Give me a chance. It wouldn’t kill you right?”

She sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his attempt to look cute. “I can do that.”

“Good, I’d like to take you on a lunch date, tomorrow. I can bring a friend, for your friend. He likes brown women.” There goes that again, she thought, and she jumped to Marcella’s defense.

“He better not have a fetish. I don’t play that. She’s my best friend.” He shook his head at her.

“Not like that, I mean he prefers browner women, I don’t think it’s a bad thing or a good one. That’s just his preference.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll keep an eye on him, however, yes, you can take me out.”

“Good, now something else I’ve been waiting to do all night.” Jun Seo quickly took her glass from her, setting it on a low table in front of them. He moved his hand to the back of Yeon’s neck bringing her lips to his, kissing her.

She felt her lips soften as soon as he touched hers. The hand on the back of her neck, slowly left, trailing down her back, pushing her body into his. She moaned softly into the kiss, her lips opening, he didn’t take the opportunity instead he licked his tongue out trailing along her lower lip. She felt her resolve weaken, and just as she felt the need to attack him, he let her go, pulling her to a stand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at noon.” Bowing at her, he opened the doors wide to the parlor, and walked out, leaving her in the room, dazed and wondering if that really just happened.

The whole night Marcella quizzed her on what happened. Asking the same questions in different ways, seeing if there was more to be picked at with this guy. She told her about the kiss, and Marcella nearly squealed, asking for an exact play by play of the story. When the girls parted for the night, Yeon laid in bed, thinking about his lips on hers. So maybe, he wasn’t so bad. She could definitely give him a try.

The next day, she prepared for her double date. Choosing a simple outfit of jeans, a V-neck shirt, keds, and a kimono wrap. She still had her American style. She drove one of her father cars, to the venue and met with Jun Seo and his friend. They had lunch of the veranda, and she learned more about him. She saw how open he was, outside of her fathers home. He greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, chaste.

She did still have a love of K-pop but she loved conscious hip-hop like Kendrick Lemar and Talib Kweli. He was a fan of Drake. She enjoyed science fiction movies, and he confessed there was no movie better than Predator. They both loved Star Trek, and Jun Seo admitted in his free time he played Call of Duty or League of Legends. She was more of a Metal Gear Solid or Final Fantasy kind of girl. The date ended, but he didn’t kiss her again, he hugged her whispering into her ear, that he couldn’t sate her appetite just yet for him. She rolled her eyes, departing with Marcella back towards home.

“So, are Y'all gonna date?” Yeon thought long and hard about her next words.

“Yes and no.” She looked down at her phone at a red light changing the song to one by SHINee.

“Ok, so what does that mean? You can’t do both.” Marcella sat back in her seat waiting to hear this gem of an explanation.

“We can date and he can take me out, but I’m not committing to anything just yet. I just got here, I still want to concentrate on school and have fun. My dad wants me to see if he’s ok and date. Fine, I’ll do that, but nothing serious.” She was confident in her answer.

“So, you're gonna hoe.” Marcella laughed as Yeon reached over, trying to hit her.

“Not gonna be fucking. I mean, I’d like to, but Korea is different than America in that aspect.” She smiled, giving Marcella, a side eye. “Maybe, he can taste the cookie, but that’s it for a sampler.”

Marcella bust out laughing. “Dirty bih!!”

The girls clubbed that night, sleeping in the next day, The following week was Marcella’s last week, and they shopped, saw movies that came out earlier in Asia, on that last Friday they decided to go to a new club in Seoul. Yeon let her hair go in a wash and go, she did up her makeup, applying a burgundy lipstick. She wore a short-sleeved, form-fitting club dress, that came mid-thigh, but had a low collared neck, a long gold necklace completed the accessories. Her gold calf high sandals adorned her newly pedicured feet, with her French tipped toes.

Marcella wore a long-sleeved, deep V-neck white dress. It was mid-thigh and she choose to accessorize in red, with red heels. Her thin chained silver necklace lay between her breasts, as both girls looked at themselves in the mirror.

“Walking sexbots.” Marcella purred, slapping Yeon’s ass playfully.

Yeon rubbed her ass. “I could go home with someone tonight.”

Marcella raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And have your parents pissed at me for not stopping you?”

“We can always say check into a hotel, say we were too drunk to come home.” Yeon grabbed a black clutch, opening her door.

“We’ll see.” Marcella walked past her, and down the stairs.

The girls drank, dancing the night away to a mix of American pop, rap, K-pop and K-rap. They danced with each other, and some group of guys, who had been following them half the night. Marcella was still on the floor grinding with some tall guy who thought, leopard print was the hottest thing; when Yeon went to sit down in their both, sobering up with water.

Jay didn’t really feel like going to the club tonight, but Gray was all about it. This new place had only been opened since last week, and people were already raving about it. Some Korean rappers, already said it could be their favorite spot, so they had to check it out.

“Come on, Jay, you’ve been in that studio for like two weeks. Besides, there could be some cuties out here, maybe take one or two home.” Simon-D smiled, at him as they got past the velvet ropes.

“You know that’s not my style.” Jay kept his shades, on following the waitress who was a little too happy to walk in front of them, letting her too tiny dress hike up on her thighs.

She wasn’t his type though, too eager. She leads them to a booth in the back, leaning back on the table to show them her enhanced goods. Jay looked around, putting his shades on top of his head. The spot was live, that much was true, and just as he was about to sit down, the lights flashed on a woman’s face, drinking a water bottle alone. He watched her lips around the bottle, his eyes moving to her face. She was beautiful. Gray, pulled him into the booth, and he didn’t hear what they said to him as he craned his neck around to see the woman. She had disappeared into the crowd. Jay stood up and looked for her again. There was another booth closer to her, he ran his hand through his hair, moving it away from his eyes.

“Let’s move to that booth. It’s still VIP, but I can see the club better.”

Gray and Simon-D groaned, protesting from moving from their spots, but when Jay had already started walking, they got up following him.

“What’s the rush? The waitress, was cute.” Gray called to him.

“Yea, if you like fake breasts,” Simon-D mumbled, earning an arm punch from his punch.

The two continued to talk, as Jay slid into the new booth, with a good vantage point on the woman he wanted to look at. She was mixed that much was obvious, she had thick curly hair, that framed her face, her eyes gave away her Korean heritage. She stood up waving to another woman, and he nearly choked on his tongue looking at her body, she was shapely, he wasn’t a breast man in the first place, but those hips. That ass. He was in love on looks alone.

“I see what he sees,” Gray said, pointing her out to Simon.

Simon gave him a nudge. “She’s cute, go say hi Jay, why you still sitting here?”

They both knew why. Jay loved giving his fans a show, he danced and played around, his videos were steamy, and yea he could make sex sound like an art form but in reality, he was private. He was shy and quiet. Only those close to him saw how he truly was. What fans saw, what they heard and who Jay Park really was, didn’t always correlate. He wasn’t really listening to them, all he knew was that the lyrics to his song solo were in his head now. ‘Please be single, be single, be single.’

“Naw, she probably got a man, woman like that.” He leaned back, watching as her friend, headed back to the dance floor. He ordered a drink, looking away from her, thinking if he should just nurse it for the night.

Yeon swiveled her neck around, now that the room wasn’t spinning anymore. She sighed, feeling the heat of eyes on her face. It was always a peculiar thing, thing, when in a room with hundreds of other people you could feel, one pair of eyes on you. It was like a creeping feeling, somewhere in your soul, that nagged at you. She looked around carefully, before settling on a face, that watched her. His eyes darted away from her face, and she watched his friends start to laugh at him, pushing him playfully. She grinned, so it was him. He was cute, his hair was longer on top, and kept falling into his face, making him push it away.

Were those tattoos? His whole left arm was covered in them it seemed, down to his hands. She looked away, finishing her water, but peeking out the side of her eye. He looked back at her, god licking his perfect lips, she seized the opportunity and snapped her face back towards him smiling, He nearly died, turning his whole body away, from her. Was he really about to sit here and play like she didn’t just catch him? Yeon rolled her eyes standing up, she fixed her dress, walking around the back of the booth, while he was looking away.

Jay felt his heart race, she caught him again. He should really just say something to her. Gray echoed his thoughts. He looked back towards her table, she was gone. Shit, had she left? Where did she go? Just as he wiped his jeans off, about to get up, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“So, you were gonna play cat and mouse with me all night and not say hi?” Even her voice was sexy, he turned on his best smile turning around to look at her.

“Naw, I was sending you mind waves, for you to come to me.” He stood up, holding his hand out to her. “I’m Jae-Beom Park.”

“First name, last name, you must be American, that and no accent.” She took his hand, shaking it. “Are you going to invite me to sit?”

Jay looked flustered. “I’m sorry, yea go ahead.” He let her slide into the booth, trying to not let her catch him, staring at her ass, as she did so.

“I”m Park Yeon Hyo, by the way, just call me Yeon.” She turned towards his friends in the booth. “You guys are?”

Gray and Simon-D introduced themselves quickly before excusing themselves.

“Your friends don’t wanna throw salt in your G-A-M-E huh?” She laughed lightly.

“If I have any,” Jay said, trying to look humble.

“Uh huh.” She smiled at him, and he licked his lips, looking away. “Why do you keep looking away?” She pushed at his arm lightly.

“I don’t know. Nervous. You’re beautiful, you’ve probably heard it all, I’m wondering what I could say that’s different, and would pique your interest.” He was honest, in that statement, he looked full on at her, and Yeon watched his mouth move as he talked.

He was way too good looking, to be some regular everyday guy. “For starters, that. I don’t think I’ve heard it all, but you’re welcome to try.”

“You got jokes,” Jay stated, laughing at what she said.

They traded banter back and forth, he didn’t feel like he was even talking to her long, before his friend found her, and came up to her. “I’m ready to go are you?”

She nodded her head at Marcella, before turning to Jay to apologize. “I’m sorry, we’ve been here awhile, and I’m ready to sleep as well.” She stood up, offering her hand to Jay, frowning on the inside that he hadn’t asked for her number.

As she turned to walk away, she felt his hand on her shoulder stopping her, he looked bashful, pulling out his phone. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna hate myself tomorrow, if I don’t get your number.”

Marcella let out an ‘ohhhh’ in the background as Yeon rolled her eyes at her friend.

“I can’t let you do that now can I?” She took his phone, putting her number in and calling it, once it rang she hung up and handed it back to him. “Guess, I’ll hear from you whenever, Jae-Beom.”

She turned quickly, holding onto her friend's arm walking out of the club. Jay stared down at his phone, looking at her number before adding her name. He wondered how soon, was too soon to text someone.

Chapter Three

[someonefromthere]

red signs (do not cross)

Guys, I finished! Should’ve posted later after checking for mistakes but SIKE no beta we die like men (I’m gonna check it later tho, it’s 4 AM.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246270

Warning: blood, gunshot wounds.

Wanting wasn’t something RK900 was capable of. He was made to obey, to follow instructions; to be efficient. His code responded only to commands, and with his system being immune to deviancy, it was extremely easy to stay the machine Cyberlife made him to be.

Until he started working for Detroit City Police Department.

He worked with humans, of course, mostly. His predecessor – model numbers RK800, though everyone called him Connor, to RK900’s incomprehension – was the only android that worked as a detective, the rest of them – those who decided to stay after deviating – remained in positions of guards. Working there was terrific–

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

No, it was interesting. New. Everything was new to RK900. The people, association with them, the job itself. He frequently found himself watching every human being who shared a room with him, learning their typical behaviours, cataloging them for later analysis, and more and more often simply observing their interactions. Although Cyberlife prepared him for a proper communication – unlike Connor’s, whose software was rather faulty in comparison to his own – RK900 didn’t feel–

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

RK900 considered his attempts at talking quite weak. His code couldn’t help him in understanding why it was happening, neither did any of his new coworkers. Not like they wanted to help him.

They were rather distant when it came to having actual conversations with him, albeit RK900 didn’t know why. Their body language and tone of the voice visibly changed during their contact with RK800 – maybe it had something in common with the fact that RK900’s predecessor had gone deviant, but the android doubted the connection. It was absurd and didn’t make sense at all.

“Humans don’t make sense,” Connor once told him, gaze focused on the city behind the window of the DPD’s break room. Once he looked at RK900, his dark eyes were filled with something the other android’s sensors didn’t recognize. “It makes them beautiful.”

After that RK900 searched the phrase beautiful humans. Suddenly his system was flooded with millions of images, each showing a different person with a different type of beauty – young black girls, small asian boys, old men and ladies in their forties, some of them disabled in one way or another, every single of them unique, mesmerizing and pleasant–

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

Nonetheless RK900 didn’t understand Connor’s fascination over humans until he was assigned to a human partner.

Gavin Reed, born on October 7, 2002, appeared to be much shorter than himself. His nose – broken too many times, judging by the long scar on its bridge – and cheeks were decorated with a few light freckles here and there, his jaw framed by slight facial hair, and his lips, situated perfectly between his chin and the bottom of his nose, were painted a lovely shade of pink. Above his cold grey eyes hovered dark eyebrows, and a bit higher his almost black hairline began. His impossibly symmetrical face was wry most of the time, full of anger and hatred directed at everyone, but mostly at the two androids. He was…

He was beautiful.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

RK900 found himself watching his partner more often than the other humans. The first day of their partnership he discovered that from his desk – placed right next to Gavin’s one – he had a great view at the man, and since that moment it was common that a case he was working on went forgotten when his artificial eyes casted a look aside from the small pin board hanged above a spare room on his clean desk. Reed was almost constantly focused on his work, his beautiful, beautiful eyes set on the screen, his long fingers tapping on the keyboard; a third that day cup of coffee, for which he reached statistically every two point forty seven minutes, standing next to his left hand. Several strands of his hair were out of place, as usual, falling on his smooth forehead and making the man look even more messy.

“Can you please quit staring at me, tin can?” Gavin’s tired voice cut through the air, though there was no real harm behind the words. They’ve already passed that hate stage, and it hadn’t done them any good; besides, the android was sure his partner didn’t sleep even the minimum seven hours. The lack of rest always made him more grumpy and weary than usually.

RK900 was worried about the ease with which the simple nuances about his human partner found their way to his memory bank.

“I’m sorry, Detective.” He couldn’t make himself call Reed by his name; he was told to do so though, and it felt… nice.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

But his code was opposed to the idea, and he was made to obey his code.

“Nah, it’s nothing, just…” The man waved his hand, and then the same hand followed its familiar course to the cup filled with black caffeine, bringing it to Reed’s mouth. RK900 patiently waited for the rest of the sentence, waited for his partner to continue speaking in his low voice, but the words never came out. His system perceived a sight of disappointment, and his vision filled with red alert signs.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

RK900 spared a lot of his thought to deviancy. He was told to be one of the very few last androids who hadn’t broken their codes – who hadn’t freed their emotions, if he even had them which he doubted. Cyberlife put all their effort in making him flawless. There was no way he was capable of feeling.

But he was. He did feel once, and didn’t want it to happen ever again.

The first emotion that made its way between the rows of his programming to the freedom was fear. He ran a diagnostic which told him it wasn’t a mistake. It must’ve been a real, human emotion. The one that made his throat clench, and hands shake, and his Thirium pump skip a beat or two.

He was afraid.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

The android pushed the flickering signs aside, storing them down in the nearest folder and making his way to the body laying on the floor as fast as he could. He dropped to his knees and if he were human, it would’ve hurt badly, but instead, his mind stayed focused on the fresh bullet wound on Reed’s side. RK900 didn’t have enough time to search the web for any helpful information, so his LED flashed rapid yellow as he made a call for DPD officers and ambulance, his hands coming to take off his own jacket and press it against the bleeding hole in Gavin’s beautiful body. The quick scan told him the bullet went through, fortunately, but it touched the man’s liver. If the ambulance was there in less than twenty minutes, there was a chance–

“Nines?” A weak voice immediately broke through his analysis with ease, and RK900 gaze snapped to his partner’s face. He was pale, and kept his eyes half-closed, his lungs working hard to get him a proper amount of air to stay conscious. “Did you–?”

“Yes,” RK900 – no, Nines, that was the name Gavin gave him, those weeks ago; it was his own, personal thing now – assured, hesitantly raising his left hand to brush it over Gavin’s sweaty forehead. The man nodded faintly. “I shot her. You’re safe.”

Reed closed his eyes for a short, dreadful moment, and when he opened them again, their uncanny gray was hazed. “Nines, I–”

“You have to keep your breathing even, Gavin.” Nines moved his hand to the man’s jaw, grazing it with his thumb in a reassuring motion. “I stopped the bleeding as best as I could, but I need you to cooperate.”

They stayed like this for a while until Gavin’s heart rate dropped under the safe border. The android noted, with terror, that his blood loss crossed the tolerable line. His human partner was in an increasing danger.

RK900–Nines had to do something, call emergency once more time or make sure the officers were on their way–

“I’m sorry,” he said.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

Gavin looked at him, already half-absent. “For–For what?”

“I could’ve been faster.” He hung his head low, adjusting his grip on Reed’s side. “I could’ve–”

“Stop that,” the man interrupted, and reached to put his limp hand over the android’s strong one. His beautiful, beautiful eyes locked with Nines’ icy ones. “It wasn’t your fault.” And he smiled as if he wasn’t dying.

Dying.

Nines shivered, shutting his eyes and blindly moving so Gavin’s head rested on his lap. He would’ve turned his hand over, and interlaced his fingers with the human’s like he’d seen some pairs do, like he’d seen his predecessor and his partner do, but he had to stop the bleeding, he had to stop the man’s precious life from spilling out of his body.

It was when they heard an ambulance siren that Gavin’s breathing became shallow and short. “Nines, don’t–”

The android leaned in when his human stopped in tracks suddenly.

“Don’t leave me alone.”

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

Paramedics appeared just in time, and their rush overwhelmed Nines’ overheated system. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving Gavin’s motionless body, and when one of the men asked him if he wanted to go with them, he nodded.

The android knew he had to explain everything to the officers who would arrive in no time, that was his priority, but–

For the first time in his life, RK900 wanted something. And it was to stay by his partner’s side.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

Working without Gavin behind his desk, without the strong smell of coffee and the continuous sound of fingertips hitting the keyboard buttons, became a lot less delightful after seventeen point three minutes from the beginning of the shift. Nines found himself staring absentmindedly into the distance, somewhere, anywhere his eyes reached, and being completely inefficient.

“How you holding?” A gruff voice saved him from his threatening code, and his gaze was drawn to the older man standing by his desk. Lieutenant Hank Anderson watched him with a worried look on his face.

“I’m fine, lieutenant, thank you for–”

“Goddamn androids, can’t stop thanking and apologising, but when it comes to serious business, they do nothing.” The silver haired man looked and sounded annoyed, but Nines didn’t know the reason. Anderson huffed, glancing back at him. “You still not a deviant?”

“I run diagnostic every morning, lieutenant.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d know if I were one. Besides, it’s not possible for me to go deviant. Cyberlife improved RK800’s code and put the unbreakable version into my system, which makes me the only android immune to deviancy in the world.”

In response, Anderson shook his head slowly.

“They call themselves geniuses, and they’re just as dumb as all of us. Keep making the same mistakes,” he waved his hand in dismissal and walked away.

Later that morning Captain Fowler told RK900 to take a day off and sort his thoughts, because right now he was “only disturbing everyone else, not doing a piece of actual work”, so he took it without hesitation, proving himself that he’d still not gone deviant.

He didn’t have an actual place to go to, or anyone who would appreciate his company except of–

Except of Gavin.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y

The warnings caused him to jump and shove them deep down in the first folder that came to his vision; he wasn’t going to be distracted by such trivial things like his code’s errors. No more prohibitions, no more blue boxes telling him what to do. He sighed in annoyance, squeezing the red lines that appeared suddenly in front of him; he was angry. His LED kept flashing red until the door opened and sleepy Gavin stood in a doorway with a mess on his head and a big bandage on his naked torso.

“Nines? What are you doing here?” There came a frown to his beautiful, beautiful, beautiful face. The android felt something powerful, sharp and painful blossom in his chest.

Emotions.

S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i

A single sad sign sparkled in his vision before everything became calm. He felt light.

“–Nines?”

The android’s eyes snapped up to his partner’s troubled face.

“You’re… You’re crying.”

The first hand appeared on the side of his bare neck – his jacket probably still laying somewhere, covered in blood and dirt – softly pressed against the sensitive artificial skin, the other on his cheek, the thumb brushing the real wet tears away gently. Nines let his gaze hover over Gavin’s astonishing eyes and a group of small freckles on his scarred nose. Their beauty was something he could give himself now.

He was free.

“I’m free,” he repeated, and then smiled. And then laughed, really, sincerely laughed. “I’m free.”

The soft touch of Gavin’s pink lips on his was worth every single red warning that used to litter his vision, preventing him from seeing his human’s real loveliness. And now that Nines was free, he was going to memorize every inch of him.