#but unfortunately it's the same layer as his eyes so they got stolen

[dnptheinfinity]

golden pig dan sims edition except i don't have ears or the snout so he just gets the bucket hat

[sserpente]

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures--but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. The deal is a simple one: Become a recruit and help the Time Variance Authority fight time crimes to earn your freedom again eventually or die. Loki accepts the challenge. It would not be long until he could use their own weapons against them, after all. If only that, however, were his only concern. Least of all did he expect that with his reluctant arrival at TVA, a woman would step into his life and wreak havoc in his heart. He does not know what it is about her that he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey--but he is determined to find out.

A/N: Gaaaah, I haven’t nearly pre-written as many chapters as I would like to have pre-written before starting to post but I just can’t wait any longer! I finally want to share this story with you guys, I am so hyped about it! So, without further ado--enjoy the first chapter of “Pastel Blue”! I hope you like it! ♥

Chapter 1

Tick Tock. That clock on the wall was driving her crazy, it had been ever since she had been assigned to this dull office. She spent most of her time in the lab, working in midst of dangerous and highly sensitive equipment and delicate devices.

Tick Tock. She was going to smash it—with a big hammer, perhaps, or even better, a jackhammer. It was ugly too. Made of wood and obviously antique, late 18th century probably. What had Mobius been thinking?

Oh yeah, him. Mobius M. Mobius, her I-am-not-your-father-but-I-will-treat-you-like-my-daughter supervisor and babysitter, thank you very much. Granted, he was old enough to be her father, taking into consideration that in her mid-twenties, there wasn’t much need for a parental figure in her life anymore.

Tick Tock. She sighed. The pile of paperwork she had been handed this morning had seemingly not shrunk by even an inch. She could swear she had not been stalling today. Breakfast, work, lunch break, work… Tick Tock. She rolled her eyes. No. This was unreasonable. Grunting a few not so decent swear words, she gathered the spreadsheets and dozens of handwritten notes, sending the calming ruffling of paper through the air and exited the room without so much as thinking about what Mobius would think about her wandering places around the TVA during work hours again.

Besides, the kitchen and common room right around the corner of her desired destination was equipped with the best coffee machine modern technology had to offer. Hot chocolate with mint and a hint of vanilla? Oh yes, please!

At this time of the day, the lab in question was deserted. Pens, pliers and other small tools lay scattered all over the metal tables as if someone had just finished their work for the day. Some of the devices in here could cause major damage if activated accidentally or even at the wrong time. Now there was the thrill, the proximity to endless possibilities.

After turning a few laps around the tables to see if anything had changed or improved at all since the last time she was here (which would be yesterday), she eventually made herself comfortable at the huge desk fully equipped with a cup holder, sockets and a fancy table lamp. The chair was the best part, enabling her to swirl around whenever she felt like she needed a refreshing spin.

She had just pulled out her burrow from her hair, having twirled it around one of the lighter strands. Her guess was the sun had bestowed its warm kisses upon her chocolate brown hair in the summer. Leaning over her papers, she got back to work.

But it was only five minutes until she heard the heavy metal door with the see-through glass panel being pushed open, followed by someone clearing their throat.

“Jess, do you have a moment?” Mobius asked. Jess tilted her head, the slightest frown accompanied by a gentle smirk decorating her face. What, no chastising for changing work locations today? She swirled around on her chair, expecting to see the man in question in his grey suit and the signature scar across his nose stare her down with arms akimbo. Instead, he was holding on to the door tensely, right next to him, seemingly out of place in the threshold, a man with raven hair and the most stunning pair of blue eyes she had ever had the pleasure to lock her gaze with. Her eyes were blue as well—Loki’s, however, seemed to shimmer green in the artificial light of the lab. She didn’t get much daylight, all the way down here.

“M?” Jess smiled. She rose, ignoring the slight trembling of her knees as she approached the two, keeping a safe distance. Her heart skipped a beat with every single step, her chest resembling a magnet pulling her towards Loki like a powerless needle.

“I’ve told you, repeatedly, to stay in your own office.” Ah, there it was.

“I have asked you, repeatedly, to re-locate my office here.” She retorted with a smug expression, eyes darting over to Loki. Mobius shook his head. “An introduction is probably redundant. Jess, this is Loki.”

He was wearing the orange prison clothes TVA had manufactured a few years back. She had to admit, orange suited him rather well, bringing out his cheekbones and the dark hair framing his flawless face. His lips were thin, his jawline to die for. She would be lying if she denied his attractiveness. Loki was a god, after all. Most prominent to his appearance, however, were the shackles around his naked wrists and the metal collar hiding most of his long neck—a chunky but firm reminder his powers were all but a myth as long as the light was blinking bright red like a traffic light screaming stop at him like a sleep-deprived police officer.

Loki lifted his chin, allowing pride and confidence to flood his aura. Out of all the people he had encountered in this strange place so far, alterations of his very own self on an old-fashioned projector included, she was by far the oddest. Jess, so he learned, wore a colourful choker around her neck as well as two bracelets of the same kind. They reminded him of sugar pearls. If he had asked her about them, she could have revealed to him that they were indeed candy necklaces—and that she wore them because Mobius had stressed there were no edible snacks allowed at work. The elegant pieces of jewellery hanging down her earlobes, however, appeared to be non-edible. Two delicate silver charms, holding what Loki identified to be moonstones. They suited her, complementing the long brown hair and the outstanding colour of her eyes. Blue—just like his.

“The God of Mischief.” She completed, the fraction of a second after he had studied her conspicuous appearance. She added a court but polite nod. “I was kind of hoping to meet you one day.” And so she was. The rumours had spread across the entire facility like wildfire, reaching even the Minutemen based in different timelines. Loki, the Norse God of Mischief, had stolen an Infinity Stone and escaped his respective timeline—a timeline reaching all the way back to 2012—creating a new branch of reality entirely. Unsupervised, he could have caused serious damage to the very fabric of time and the multiverse. He had to be stopped, had to be captured, had to be persuaded.

Mobius had expressed his interest in getting the infamous Trickster to work for him frequently. Loki was skilled, intelligent, witty, a talented fighter and most of all, one of the most capable users of magic the multiverse had to offer. His stories of victory and defeat were known to most of the TVA and yet, they resonated with her to an extent her colleagues could never fathom. Above everything Loki had had to experience—above all Loki will have had to experience—there was a thick layer of loneliness clouding his aura like a blanket of ice-cold snow. It was a suitable comparison, given his heritage.

“I didn’t just hear that.” Mobius intervened. He sized her up like an unpredictable teenager. “The God of Mischief has retired. Loki here has just agreed on working for us.”

“With you,” Loki interrupted. “Not for you. Reluctantly.” That would leave her wondering what exactly it was Mobius had offered him in return.

Jess chuckled. “Now that is a matter of opinion, trust me. I would know.” Raising an eyebrow, she gave Mobius a challenging glare.

“I need you to cover a shift.” He responded matter-of-factly. Jess’ eyebrow rose even higher. “Reese just jumped back from 1792.”

“And?”

“He almost made his personal acquaintance with the guillotine. They’re patching him up in the hospital wing right now.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Jess took a step back, realising just what kind of favour, no, requirement Mobius would ask for. Reese had been in the TVA for more than three decades—he had not aged a day since his accession as a matter of fact—and his experience and excessive excitement over the Avengers had made him the perfect candidate to keep an eye on Loki while he was still not to be trusted—if he was ever going to be trusted, that was. He was the God of Mischief, after all.

“I’m on probation, remember? What makes you think I should cover for him of all people?” Loki rolled his eyes and for a moment, you almost felt sorry for excluding him from a conversation that was clearly about him.

“Call it an experiment. Prove to me that we can rely on you and I’ll end your probation.” Jess resisted the urge to shake his hand off her shoulder when he leaned forward to touch her in a fatherly manner.

“Sir, do you have a moment?” A Minuteman had appeared behind them. Jess had never quite figured out how they moved so quietly. Their shoe soles must have been made of feathers. In turn, the stilettos she usually wore to smuggle a few more inches to her height were loud and made satisfying noises ricocheting through the hallways when she walked, emitting confidence and even smugness. She needed that boost every once in a while.

Mobius nodded. As he released Jess’ shoulder and pushed past Loki—who did, much to her amusement, not move an inch for the senior manager—he pointed a finger at him. “Behave.”

The lab door fell shut behind him, drowning all noises from the outside like a soundproof recording room. Jess gaped at Loki for a second, her body once again threatening to overwhelm her with the magnetic pull she felt towards the Trickster, fascination setting her veins ablaze.

“You do not look human.” Loki suddenly said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Jess pouted.

“Excuse me? I am hoping you meant that as a compliment, I am as human as I’ll ever be.” Loki frowned, then responded with a hum.

“I take it you hop timelines for him too then, fixing the damage others have done.”

“Me? No.” Jess shook her head. “I am not a Minuteman. I wish I was, trust me, but I have got nothing to do with that, unfortunately. I work in the linguistics department, spending all day translating protocols and time recordings from all sorts of languages. Now I know what you’re thinking. With its technology, shouldn’t TVA be able to translate everything using a smart computer program?” She shrugged. “Well, technically you’re right. But there’s a bunch of languages out there that simply don’t exist either here on Earth or any other known realm. We’re only human—and a computer program is only as smart as its creator. It can’t translate a language that does not consist of words, for example, that would go against the very human comprehension of its programmer.”

“Then how do you speak them?” Loki probed.

“That’s my superpower. I don’t know why I can understand them, I just… do. And what did it get me?” She raised her hands in a dramatic motion. “Paperwork. Lots of paperwork. The only way for me to get in on the real action is this place here. Take a look at this.” Loki watched her move towards what resembled a toaster, shaped like a metal suitcase that had been left open. Smiling, she reached for a shining red apple on the table and placed it on the black surface before activating the switch. She had seen the scientists do this dozens of times before. In fact, she was sure she could handle most of the devices in here in her sleep. As the small machine hummed to life, it sent a deafening vibration through the room and then, just like someone had hit fast-forward with a remote, the apple shrivelled and rotted.

“Pretty cool, huh? It works the other way around too once it recharged. They haven’t figured out how to make it work for living beings, including humans, just yet, though. This is just a prototype anyway, the real thing is supposed to help re-animate the dead for a short amount of time to solve time crimes and shit. I swear I’d get a major in science if I lived another life. My father was one. Before he died, that is.” Jess wasn’t quite sure what made her open up to the God of Mischief and tell her about her personal family drama. She usually babbled when nervousness got the better of her but this was a new level of openness entirely. They all knew her story, after all, but apart from Mobius, they all pretended they didn’t. “You see? TVA is not all bad, even if it may seem so at first. M can be an arsehole sometimes, I know. He calls our main timeline in which everything began,” Jess continued with a dramatic voice, “the Null-Time Zone. I never figured out why and he won’t tell me.”

“Because you don’t listen, Jess.” Mobius answered, holding the door open with the Minuteman who had asked for his advice impatiently but mutely waiting for his turn again behind him.

“So?” She probed, pointing at the God of Mischief with her chin, her arms crossed. “If I am to play babysitter for a while, where am I staying? Where is Loki staying?”

“Your place.” Jess blinked, incredulousness spreading on her face like a clean swipe of butter on warm toasted bread.

“My place?”

“Your residential unit is supervised and equipped with modern alarm systems, just in case you decide to make trouble again, remember? We’ll position security outside the door in addition to that, killing two birds with one stone. Besides, it’s only temporary. Reese should be up and on his feet again in no time. The blade only grazed him before he made the jump back.”

“That does not sound reassuring!” Jess stood up straight to prove her point and yet, even compared to Mobius, she was nowhere near tall enough to make an impact with her body language at this time.

“You can take the rest of the day off as compensation. Show Loki to your unit. Make yourselves acquainted. I’ll send security to collect him in five minutes—to the second!”

 ~*~

She seems familiar almost… like part of me has known her forever. It was a thought which jumped into Loki’s mind and implanted itself in his head like a parasite. A mere mortal, how could there possibly be a connection between them? But it wasn’t just magnetic fascination and intrigue. Loki felt a need to keep her in his presence much like she was about to be his cherished bride. Irritation crept up the back of his neck as he followed her through the branched corridors and back to the modern lift he had had to use upon his arrival.

He would only love to know just what it was that had gotten her on probation. Abuse of machinery for her own selfish purposes, perhaps? A prank which had gone too far and done damage to the organisation? Murder? No. Despite her toughness, he could not imagine the delicate mortal standing next to him in the elevator being capable of killing anyone.

When the elevator doors slid open again, the young woman gave him an almost sheepish smile. She hardly appeared worried by having to escort him all on her own, across empty hallways which were only too inviting to overpower her and escape. Something held him back. She did, so he realised with another wave of irritation electrifying his body.

“…the most dangerous missions they usually leave to Justice Peace and Death’s Head. Ever heard of them? They are like celebrities around here.” He heard her say just then. But Loki couldn’t possibly take less interest in this so-called Time Variance Authority. All he needed to know was that it was yet another, partially human-led secret organisation imagining with the naivety of a child that they held power over him. SHIELD had made this mistake in the past and they had paid the bitter price. TVA would be no different.

“The units here are labelled with our initials and the department number. This one.” Jess pointed at the first door coming into sight to their right and quite apparently, Mobius had not made any empty promises concerning Jess’ safety and surveillance. As they turned around the corner, they were greeted by a grimly looking security officer clutching one of those small devices Loki identified as a Taser, one which of the like Darcy Lewis had once used on his brother. He kept a straight face even as Jess unlocked the residential unit using her fingerprint and entered but gave him a provocative smirk before following her.

His own chambers back on Asgard—another life entirely, so it seemed now—were a reflection of who he was with their green accents, the countless books, the tidiness and the ancient parchment rolls on his dark mahogany desk from Vanaheim. If anything, analysing her personal living space to the very last grain of dust would satisfy his need to learn just why he felt so drawn her, perhaps.

The first item of furniture he took in was the long bookshelf towering all the way up to the ceiling, every inch filled with clearly read books about as thick as his wrist. He made a note to study the titles later. A coffee table full of empty peanut shells and a new package of peanuts still sealed neatly in their plastic bag, a caramel sofa on which he found more sealed peanut bags as well as a golden cushion with cheesy pom-poms. A drawer, a TV with large speakers and another electronic gadget resembling a fridge and two separate doorways which led to a bathing area, so he presumed, and her bedroom. Even with the overall lack of more furniture in the room, Jess had somehow managed to add her very own personal touch to the sterile residential unit.

“The bathroom is to the right, you’ll find refreshments and snacks in the fridge next to the TV. My bedroom is out of bounds. I hope you enjoyed the tour.” She chuckled, grabbing a blue leather jacket from the hook on the entrance door behind them. “Big meals are eaten in the cafeteria at certain times of the day though. Mobius wants to strengthen the team spirit but the cooks never say no to a late breakfast or a midnight snack if you ask them nicely.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t you feel like a prisoner in this place?” A lackey for someone else to take the credit for your hard work, he added silently. He knew two of that kind—one being his brother, the other his alleged father. Loki suppressed a begrudged growl. Just in that moment and before she had a chance to reply to his provocative remark, there was a vigorous knock on the door.

“That’ll be your cue.” Jess announced. Loki had to force himself not to turn his head and catch one last glimpse of her as the grimly looking security man escorted him back to Mobius and, other than Jess, kept pushing him forward like cattle and yet, he was convinced he could feel her curious gaze resting on his back long after he had turned back around the corner, stepped into the elevator and even when he was reluctantly reunited with Mobius near the lab where they had first picked her up.

He was speaking to the same Minuteman who had interrupted them earlier—quietly, vividly and so engrossed in the seemingly heated conversation that he noticed Loki and his new bodyguard approaching only after his exceptional hearing had picked up shreds of information he made another mental note of using against them, sooner rather than later.

“You do realise that they’ll come after us with a vengeance, right? That could be the end of TVA once and for all, you know very well what he is capable of.”

“Let that be my concern. This is just a temporary solution—one which I am very curious about.”

“But it already—“

“I realise it already happened and that’s exactly why I’m doing this. All we need to do is stop it from happening again by observing the situation intently, stitch up the loop and we’ll be safe. This isn’t my first rodeo, Dave, you of all people should know this.”

“And what about the Tesseract? Wouldn’t it be smarter if we—“

The security officer cleared his throat, announcing their arrival.

“The Tesseract,” Loki interrupted with a glare, strutting towards them like the king he was born to become and despite his shackles, “belongs to me. It called out to me, it is mine.”

“You’ll find a lot of people in this facility who will disagree with you on that. Trust me. We’ll make sure you won’t get your hands on that cube again.” Dave snorted. “I hope you like your new lodging. Now come on, mischief maker. You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

~*~

A/N: And Scene! So what do you think, what do you think, what do you think? 🤯 I’m so excited to dive into this story! I literally recorded myself on my phone in the middle of the night a while back when all the ideas I had finally came together so I hope I’ll be taking you on an exciting journey with me!

Chapter 2

[seaweedbrain404]

Wolfstar Au!: Hot and Cold (pt 2 of Parties and Morning Regrets)

@icitlali asked if there was a second part and um- yeah i wrote this, there may be more parts to come

pt 1

pt3

read it on ao3

Remus thought inviting Sirius up was the right thing to do which is the only reason he did. He dared to let himself hope but he didn’t really want to see Sirius. Still, Remus had manners and it was so cold outside that his own fingers were turning purple. Leaving Sirius out in the cold and making him probably walk home seemed too mean, even for Remus. Although, he thought Sirius definitely deserved it.

He followed Sirius up to the flat, Lily looked more than surprised when she saw Sirius come in and gave Remus another look. It was one of those looks that Remus didn’t like getting, the we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later kind of look. He shrugged it off, too preoccupied with his bloody hip.

“Remus, did you really walk all the way here?” Lily crossed her arms over her chest as Remus closed the door behind them.

“Yeah, so what” He replied through gritted teeth. “I’m going for a shower to wash off the smell of stale alcohol”

“You’re going to be the death of me one day, Remus Lupin” Lily’s voice called to his retreating back. “Sirius, how are you?”

Remus heard vague small talk as he navigated his way to his bedroom. The pain in his hip wasn’t unbearable exactly. It was just bad enough for it to consume all his thoughts. All he needed was a warm bath, some painkillers and to limit his movements for the rest of the day. Easy. Unfortunately, the bath would have to wait until later though seeing as it would probably be rude to soak in the tub while having a guest over.

Showering after a night out was always a pleasant experience. He emerged from the shower just a couple minutes later with damp hair, a stolen pair of Lily’s yoga pants and a clean jumper.

“Ah, here’s the idiot who has no regard for his health” Lily smiled as Remus walked into the kitchen. “Are those mine?”

“Maybe, painkillers please?” He walked across the room and leaned his chin on Lily’s shoulder.

Sirius watched the interaction between the two with some hint of longing in his eyes. Remus wasn’t sure why, maybe it was because he had never been so casually touchy with anyone but now him and Lily were even closer than they were in school.

Lily wrapped an arm around his waist, rubbing circles on his hip. “Sirius, there’s a small pill bottle in the cupboard just there-“ she pointed to the right above her head “-would you mind grabbing it please?”

Sirius blinked for a moment, seemingly frozen at the sight of them. Then, he nodded. “Yeah- yeah, I got it”

He passed Lily the retrieved painkillers without looking at them. Lily hummed gratefully in return, easing Remus, who had hid his face in the crook of her neck, off her. He leaned back against the counter and Lily switched the kettle on.

“I promised Mrs Pettigrew from next door that I’d pick up her groceries today” Lily turned to Remus, glancing at Sirius, “and do a bit of cleaning for her since her grandson is out of town, do you think you’ll manage?”

“Yeah” Remus breathed out. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay”

Lily pursed her lips and looked to Sirius again. “Make sure he stays home, yeah?”

Remus made a noise of protest as Sirius nodded, “I doubt he’ll want to listen to me”

“Lily, I can take care of myself”

“Hardly, you’re in a right state after being without me for a few hours” She scolded, “If you strain yourself any more then you’re going to really fuck up your hip”

“I can’t fuck up something that’s already fucked, can I?”

“I mean it, take it easy and don’t be an idiot”

“Alright, fine”

“And I want to talk to you later”

Remus paled a little at that, despite fully seeing it coming. He made a noncommittal sound and Lily, satisfied with herself, left the room to layer up on clothes and help the nice old lady who lived across the hall.

There was a tense moment when she left. The kettle went off and Remus poured himself a cup, then paused. “Tea?”

“Sure”

Sirius seemed more relaxed now that Lily had gone. It was as if he had been on best behavior when she was there and now he didn’t have to be. Remus couldn’t really blame him, Lily could be very scary sometimes and she was always unreasonably overprotective of Remus. In all fairness, he felt the same way towards her.

So Remus poured two cups of tea and then added milk and sugar accordingly. He had assumed that Sirius took his tea the way he did back in school and he was only a little ashamed he still knew what the other man liked in his tea off the top of his head.

“Am I allowed to ask about the accident?” Sirius picked up his cup and took a sip.

“Why do you want to know?” Remus retorted, taking a painkiller.

“Lily wouldn’t tell me… and I’m…. worried” Sirius looked embarrassed to admit it but he did admit it which was good enough for Remus. It showed some sort of growth, some kind of potential.

“Depends on whether you’re going to pity me or not because frankly, I don’t care much for it”

“Jesus, you don’t have to be so snappy”

Remus scowled at him, not saying another word. He didn’t care about being snappy in that particular moment. His hip hurt like hell, he could feel his leg slowly going as well and whenever he told people anything about the accident they all treated him like a fragile porcelain doll.

Sirius cleared his throat before speaking again. “I won’t pity you, if you don’t want me to”

“What do you want to know?” Remus asked, disregarding what Sirius had said.

“What happened?”

“I worked at this publishing place, had a late night so I took a cab home” Remus began, even thinking about that night made his heart race and his eyes sting. “Someone was driving under the influence and hit us- the cab, I mean.. and it was really bad but they put these screws and plates all in my side, shoulder down to my shin”

Remus paused a moment, wiping his eyes on the back of his palm. Sirius made to touch him but he jerked away, a little too fast and hissed in pain. Sirius retreated his hand, looking crestfallen.

“Anyway, I had to quit the job cause it was too far to walk and I refused to get in any type of car or bus or really any type vehicle since then” Remus rushed the end of the story, his hands were shaking and his throat felt tight.

Sirius took a step forward and this time Remus allowed him to. He carefully opened his arms and slowly wrapped them around Remus, giving him more than enough time to move if he didn’t want this.

Remus, however, was just exhausted. He collapsed right into Sirius’ arms which tightened around him. The bad thing was, he was still shaking, his lungs refused to take in air and oh, there was the whole thing about just falling into his ex-boyfriend’s arms. Good thing was, he felt safe.

Then he started crying, his own arms wrapping around Sirius’ waist while his arms were around Remus’ back. He was pretty sure the only reason he still remained standing was Sirius’ strength forged by years of playing rugby. Remus wanted to kick himself, everything about this situation was just so pathetic and he hated it. He hated himself for it.

Sirius, meanwhile, said nothing and just rubbed circles on the taller man’s back. “I’m sorry, I’ve been horrible to you and now you’re literally comforting me, maybe I am the asshole”

“Nah, I kind of deserved it”

“Yeah you did”

“Hey! you’re not supposed to say that”

“But it’s the truth”

“Shut up”

Remus let himself laugh quietly. He was mortified by this display of vulnerability and dearly wished the ground would open and swallow him whole. Then he made a feeble attempt at pushing Sirius away, nearly toppling over himself. He had to grip the counter behind him to stop himself from hitting the floor. Sirius made to catch him but Remus swatted his hand away.

“I think you should go”

“But I promised Li-“

“I’m tired and she’ll be back soon”

Lie. Remus knew that Lily would be gone for at least two more hours, maybe more if Mrs Pettigrew offered biscuits.

“Then I’ll just stay till she comes back, she really worries about you” Sirius shrugged like it was final and Remus didn’t want to talk about it so he slowly hobbled to the living room.

“Do you-“

“No”

Sirius started asking but Remus snapped at him before he could finish his question.

“Sorry” Sirius mumbled, hands up in surrender. Remus could feel eyes on his back as he managed to get to the couch. He switched on the telly, laying on the side of his body that hurt the least.

Remus figured that if Sirius didn’t leave, then maybe he could ignore him to the point of leaving. Unfortunately it didn’t work because this was Sirius so instead of sitting on the chair near the couch or even on the floor, he stood at Remus’ head. Hands were gesturing for Remus to sit up but he ignored them.

“Remus, squish over a minute”

With a groan, he turned onto his back and sat up. Sirius slid into the open space and Remus turned so that his feet were at Sirius�� lap instead of his head. He wasn’t sure how his body would react if Sirius started gently twirling strands of his hair and admiring them as if they were made of gold.

Remus closed his eyes, feeling fingers tracing shapes on his exposed ankles.

Suddenly Sirius spoke. “You and Lily have gotten really close”

His eyes shot open, a little startled by the tone. He wasn’t sure how long he was out but he definitely slept at least twenty minutes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was groggy with sleep, the side of his mouth damp from drool

“It’s weird, I’ve never seen you so much as hug anyone”

Remus wiped the side of his mouth. “People are allowed to change and Lily is my best friend”

“It’s just- you’ve changed so much and I’m struggling to keep up” Sirius’ tone was strange, the most un-Sirius thing Remus had ever experienced him do since they met.

Remus’ eyebrows knit together, a frown now playing on his face. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, y’know… besides, I don’t have to change according to your terms”

“I never said that” Sirius spat.

Remus sat up in response, leaning back on his elbows. “Then why are you constantly bitching about how much I’ve changed?”

“Because you have! It’s like you’re this whole new person and I don’t even know you”

“I haven’t spoken to you since we were 17, that was 6 years ago and you expect me not to change?” Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I went to college, I got in a horrendous car accident Sirius, do you really expect me to be the same person I was when we were teenagers?”

“No- it’s just, I don’t like change”

“Fucking hell Sirius, the world doesn’t care and guess what? that’s constantly changing too”

“Yeah but not as drastically as you! You work in a bakery for Christ’s sake when I know you always wanted to be a writer”

“And I know you vowed to never work for your parents and here you are, doing daddy’s dirty work no doubt”

“Remus”

“What”

“You were never this cruel”

“No, I suppose not”

The two sat in silence, and it took all of Remus’ willpower not to kiss him.

“Can we just be friends or something” Sirius looked sincere enough, good natured enough for Remus to want it.

“Something? Something like wh-“

But Remus never got to finish his sentence because suddenly Sirius’ knees were straddling his hips and they were kissing.

What the fuck!

Remus wanted to scream, he was tired and annoyed and now he didn’t know what to feel. He pushed Sirius away for a second time that day, both their breaths coming in uneven.

“No” Remus breathed out, shutting his eyes tightly.

“No?”

“Yes, no… I can’t… what were you thinking?”

Sirius looked both hurt and surprised but Remus wasn’t concerned about that, he was more confused than anything and also there was the almost unbearable pain in his hip.

“I- well you were being cruel and this is the only way I knew how to shut you up effectively”

Now it was Remus’ turn to look hurt, he pushed Sirius again with more force than before. He brought his head back down and refused to say another word.

“Remus”

Nothing.

“Remus”

He shut his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep again.

“I’m sorry”

“Remus, I’m really sorry”

“I know I shouldn’t have said that”

“I did want to kiss you, I also wanted you to stop being mean”

“Come on Moony”

Remus’ eyes shot open at the childhood nickname. “Leave me alone Sirius, I’m tired and sore”

“Are you cross?”

“With you?”

Sirius hummed in response.

“Yeah but mainly cause I’m tired”

“Oh, I’m sorry”

“Just stop talking”

Sirius did just that. Remus felt bad though, he very carefully and hesitantly moved again so that his head was on Sirius’ lap. “I’m sorry for being a dick” he whispered, eyes closing again.

“I’m sorry for not thinking before I speak” came Sirius’ soft reply.

Remus felt Sirius’ fingers move through his hair tentatively as if he was uncertain whether or not this was allowed. “No, I’m being a moody git, all hot and cold on you”

“I couldn’t blame you for it”

“Well you should”

Sirius didn’t reply and Remus remained on the side that didn’t hurt him, facing away from Sirius and towards the telly.

[moonchildsaurora]

Running in Circles

✤ guard captain!Mingi x thief!reader  ✤ genre: Guard AU // smidge of fluff, (semi)enemies-to-friends. (feat. Yunho) ✤ t/w: sfw, none - except very brief mentions of some fighting, rated PG ✤ count: 3k ✤ [ part 3 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - huge apologies for keeping Captain Song in for a so long but alas, he’s finally freeeeee. I really need to pick up the pace with continuing on with this mini series 😅 this idea sorta played out better in my head than out in words - I’m not 100% happy with this, it’s defs not my best but I shall practise writing more Mingi fics in the future! This is also probably the tamest of the lot in terms of cry-level. Just preparing you guys with an easy read before the shitstorm that awaits in the next member on the list one shot hahahahahahaha. @hereisleo​ & @barsformars​ hope you both enjoy this for ya man 😉 I couldn’t bring myself to hurt this giant teddybear too much in writing. Also everyone, let’s welcome back a familiar face within this one shot :P

In all of his years of being a royal palace guard of Aethevintis, nothing would cause his body to seize up with tension instantly and hasten the greys that threaten to come through his still youthful auburn tresses than when he was requested at the interrogation chamber.

Heavy steps echoed off the dark granite stone floors, the sharp clinking from an array of medals that hung proudly to signify his prestige were in sync with his tense pace. Song Mingi had no problem exercising command and authority when it was needed, in fact, he prided himself in doing so.

He was good at his job, and he knew that.

Otherwise the title of Captain wouldn’t had been bestowed upon him that four winters ago. The real struggle was when his confidence in being assertive was mistaken for the ability to intimidate, broad body physique to further fuel that common misconception. And so Mingi often found himself sat in that bleak chamber with some poor unfortunate soul, who had been frightened into admitting nothing more than petty crimes.

He’d argue such tactics were unnecessary. Running his hand frustratingly through his hair for the umpteenth time, Mingi mentally braced himself for whatever...or rather whoever awaited for his arrival.

Rounding the corner, his brows arched up with surprise upon seeing the King standing in front of the chamber doors. The troubled look that replaced the King’s usual ebullient features prompted Mingi to straighten his posture immediately; this was sure to be a serious matter.  “Good afternoon Sire…”

Yunho turned towards the rich baritone voice of the Guard Captain and rigid shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at the sight of one of his most trusted.    

“Captain Song,” Yunho nodded in acknowledgement, “Although I’m not sure if it’s entirely good at all.”

Mingi’s forehead creased but remained silent to allow the King to further elaborate about his plight.

“The Queen’s aquamarine diamond parure has been stolen, and I suspect a selection of other jewels too. Those I care not for as much as the diamond parure…it’s got high sentimental value as it was passed down within the family from my great-great-grandmother.”

“That certainly isn’t good at all. Has the perpetrator been caught yet, Sire?”

“As luck would have it, yes actually. And I’ve been told that you would be the perfect person to know how to handle this….situation,” at saying this Yunho fully turned to face Mingi. The falchion in his belt’s scabbard felt heavy and a million and one thoughts were running through his mind at once.

“Mingi…”  

Mingi could see the sincerity in Yunho’s eyes and the hesitation in spilling out the words that needed to be said.

“I hope you know that in any other circumstances, I would not be requesting you to deal with such matters that you have immense dislike for. I apologise for putting you in such a position. This…certain individual has crossed paths with you before and I’m hoping with that familiarity you may be able to coax them to reveal where the diamond parrure is. How you do so, I’ll leave that up to your discretion.”

Oh.

Well that wasn’t what Mingi was expecting to hear. A certain individual he’s familiar with?

He straightened his back and gave a determined nod of his head, “I shall do my best Sire. That room may be the bane of my existence but this matter is clearly of importance to you, let us hope the thief can be convinced to comply.”

“You have my utmost gratitude Mingi,” Yunho said, reaching his hand up to give Mingi’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before making his way out of the grim dungeon hallway.

Mingi waited till the King was out of sight before turning to face the chamber. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his heart and pushed open the doors with slight force.  

“Well, well if it isn’t my favourite Captain of the guards. Come to keep me company for the evening?”

If he wasn’t already sweating before, he sure was now. That oh-so coquettish voice he’s grown to recognise almost immediately, fell on his ears.

You sent a cheshire grin to the tall figure, legs propped up on the worn-out wooden table and hands idly fiddling with the heavy brass shackles around your wrists. This certainly wasn’t the first time your paths had crossed but it was the first for you both to meet in a more dire setting.

Mingi feared for the implications of your capture.

Not just a mere thief of the streets but being the leader of Dusk Talons, the Royal Crown surely won’t pass up a chance to make an example of a core individual from the renowned thief guild.    

“You ought to close your mouth, otherwise the flies will get in.”

One of the guards closer to you brought his fist down on the table, a mere tactic meant to frighten you. However, all it got out of you was the bored glance you sent to the guard who started berating you for talking back to Captain Song.

Mingi let out a sigh, “That’s enough. I can take it from here, you all are dismissed.” The command was given to the other guards in the room as he settled into the chair across from you. They left without a fuss and silence encompassed the room, though not for long.

“Would you please be a dear and help with this?” you asked, chains jangling as you held out your cuffed wrists towards Mingi.

“It would seem that’s not needed at all,” a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, “your handy work got the job done for you.”

“You’re no fun.”

Not admitting out loud, you were slightly impressed that the guard captain didn’t let your lock-picking slip by him. The shackles dropped on to the table and you made a show of stretching your arms out, body arching lithely off the chair. Your loose tunic rode up just shy of showing skin, causing Mingi to avert his eyes out of respect.

That widened your grin.

Mingi let out an awkward cough, any pre-planned script he had for questioning was abandoned. You weren’t entirely a stranger to him nor were you an acquaintance – if the laws even allowed for that. But Mingi didn’t feel right about making you go through the same interrogation protocol as previous criminals had to. You weren’t like them.  

“I can’t tell if you thrive off the riskiest raids or that you don’t fear anything nor anyone. Going after Her Majesty’s diamond parure? Of all things!”

An airy chuckle left you, “If I didn’t know better…you sound awfully worried for me, Captain.”

“Shouldn’t you be at least more careful? What would become of your family if something were to really happen to you?”

The grin on your face disappeared immediately.

Mingi continued when he didn’t hear a response, “I’ve seen you…giving food and gold back to those in the Lower Wrean. I know some of the funds for the city’s orphanages are provided by your guild. And that one time…the only reason why you led the attack on our eastern outpost was to rescue a few of your own and relocate some of the nomad camps away from potential crossfire. You don’t abandon family, right?”

These were the things that convinced Mingi, you weren’t really all bad. Questionable choices? Sure. Morals? A little grey. Although underneath the layers, your intentions have always stemmed from a compassionate heart.  

“What’s to the rich if they lose a few here and there? They have far more than enough, so to us, they’re top of the list of contributors.”

Mingi remembered you telling him that when he had first caught you escaping from one of the noble’s house. Your guild only ever stole from the rich and it was a bonus if the corrupted was targeted too. Mingi, who then was still under the command of the previous captain, hesitated to pursue. For his moral compass went spiralling. Being bound to carry out his royal duty or close a blind eye because he empathised with what you stood for.  

Empathy.

Nothing more than a weak link, according to his captain. There was little room for that, just as grey had no place among Aethevintis’ black-or-white justice system.

Hence, a thief was still a thief at the end of the day. Even for a good cause, by definition you were on the opposing side.

You continued to observe Mingi in silence, with a neutral expression, as you let his words sink in. Captain Song was much different than his predecessors. An unspoken level of mutual respect had developed between you both somewhere along the way of your encounters. The way he led with his heart rather than blind authority was admirable.

“We do what we must to get by. My family…as you so kindly put it…are capable of adapting to whatever circumstances are thrown their way. Risk is an inevitable norm for us.”

At least, you could appreciate Mingi looking at you without that faux sympathy.

“And I’ve lived doing what I do best…that is to survive. Being careful only gets you so far but being smart, well, you could go just about anywhere with that.”  

With a rather loud yawn you broke the tension in the dim room. The grin reappeared back on your face and you slinked backwards on the chair. Mingi was contemplating on whether switching back to the original subject of this…talk…would be a good idea or not. He needed a starting basis, a hint of sorts from you in order to give direction where he’d be searching for the missing parure.  

Betting on the fact that you don’t wholly despise him, Mingi tried his luck. “Now I do have a job to complete, and I’m sure we both would rather spend our time elsewhere other than down here…”  

“Aww, I thought we were having a good time getting to know each other better. Don’t get to do that as much on the streets now, do we?”

“What have you done with Her Majesty’s parure?” asked Mingi, keeping his tone levelled.

“You sure are set on that huh? What’s in it for you if you successfully retrieve the jewels?”

Tilting your head, eyes sparking a challenge. Only to be met with determination glinting off Mingi’s own pair of dark chocolate brown orbs.

“Nothing more than the satisfaction of returning a precious family heirloom back to my King. It’s of great importance and sentiment to him.”

You wished you could find fault in his resolution. Yet again, Mingi was nothing but honest in answering you.  

Surely, you could play a little nicer this time, right?

“Hmm, I’ll think about it. I’m feeling rather parched as well…any chance I could get some fresh water?”

Sensing you weren’t going to give in anytime soon, Mingi drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Standing up he offered, “And I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat?”

“You’re offering?”

“This is an interrogation chamber, not a torture one.”

Mingi left to gather the necessities. Head filled with too many conflicting thoughts, that he missed the growing grin on your lips and the space where the dungeon keys previously sat on his belt.  

“THE PRISONER HAS ESCAPED!”

“FIRE IN THE COURTYARD!”

It was havoc.  

The thunderous sound of fireworks broke through the tranquil evening. Catching everyone by surprise and confusion arose as to why bursts of colourful sparks were going off within the palace grounds. When some of the flag banners and trees caught fire from the stray sparks, it caused a flurry of panic.

And to make matters worse – the guards had lost you.

Mingi finished over-seeing the last batch of palace staff into the safe area. “All palace guards are to stay by the doors to the throne room and west wing! No one is to leave or enter until my unit and I have done a final sweep of the grounds, “ he ordered.

Part of the team was put in charge of getting the fires under control. He deduced the fireworks were set off as an intended distraction and, a successful one at that too. Mingi’s priority was now to prevent you from escaping.

He heard the commotion and shouting before, “CAPTAIN! THE SOUTHWEST WALLS!”

You held your own and by the time Mingi had reached your location, the guards who were stationed there were knocked out cold on the ground. A minor cut bled slightly from your left cheek and you looked a little more roughed up than when Mingi had last seen you.

“Here I was thinking this would be a clean goodbye…” you said, securing the rope around your waist that Mingi noticed was tied to the stone merlons. He also saw a couple of dark-coloured pouches with you that weren’t present on your attire during the interrogation.

Three guesses as to what filled those pouches.

You followed his eyes to where they were fixated on, “Ah yes, amongst thieves it’s the number one rule to not hide our spoils on ourselves…lest we get caught.”

A series of sharp whistles was heard. The signal that your guild had completed their tasks and was awaiting to reunite with their leader down below at the meeting point. You blew three consecutive similar whistles back in response.

“Wait!”

You paused with one foot up on the stone edge. Turning back to look, you saw Mingi’s hand hover slightly over his falchion.

“Are you going to try and stop me?”

‘No. But I will ask once more, where is the diamond parure? I know the cold season approaches and you’ll need all the resources you can get. Those gold and other jewels you’ve got there should be sufficient enough. So please….”

Having already made your decision the moment you slammed the doors to the chamber out, simultaneously breaking the noses of the unsuspecting guards, you knew what you had to do. But that didn’t prevent you from adding a little dramatic flair.

After all, you want to stay memorable in Captain Song’s books.

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

Your voice dripping with light sweetness, eyes locked on his as you made your way right up to him. Your hand darted out to grab his falchion and on reflex, Mingi intercepted – large calloused warm hand latching around your wrist.

“But maybe that’s what makes so different from the others…” You flipped his hand so it faced palm up, and placed a familiar cobalt blue pouch on it. “You’re a good man, Captain Song. Thinking with your heart doesn’t make you weak…this world needs more of that, more of people like you.”

You watched his shoulders fall with relief and the look he had in his eyes change into something you couldn’t quite discern. Mingi nestled the pouch carefully towards his body, the delicate clinking confirmed its fragile contents within. And he didn’t feel the need to look inside for confirmation; he trusted you.

“If we were to meet in another lifetime, I hope we’d be on better terms then. Preferably one leaning closer to friends.”

A genuine smile crept up from the corners of your lips upon hearing Mingi’s words.

“That sounds rather nice, actually.”

You could definitely use a friend like Mingi in your second lifetime, should fate ever be so kind to give you another shot.

“CAPTAIN!”  

The clamouring of guards and blades being drawn drew closer and you could hear the running of feet up the stairs.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. And I am so sorry for doing this but…”

And you physically winced when you sent a knee to his gut, causing Mingi to collapse and gasp for air.

“…Captain Song wouldn’t go down without a fight and this makes it look less like you just let a scummy thief off the hook.”

Mingi waved his other gloved hand, “I…understand – you ought to hurry…” he managed to cough out the words.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

With that, Mingi watched you leap over the wall’s edge just as back-up from his unit arrived. Not only did you leave him with the Queen’s jewels and potentially a bruise or two, you also left him with a new sense of comfort.

Two worlds apart. Two unlikely individuals who were both willing to cross the bridge that’s been built to fill the gap, to meet in the middle.

Yeah, this was a change he could get used to.

“Thank you Captain Song!” cheered the orphans, watching with admiration at how effortlessly Mingi climbed the tree to recover their kite that got stuck in the tall branches.

He soon found his legs to be attacked with hugs from several pairs of petite arms.  

Mingi returned the affections with gentle head pats and a, “Be careful not to run too fast and watch where you’re going!”  

The townspeople greeted him as he patrolled his rounds. Even scoring a ruby red freshly-picked apple from one of the vendors. Today would be a breeze. Golden rays of the sun shone down warmly and the morning air was still crisp. Mingi was already planning to finish his shift early and go see if he could convince Yunho to sneak away from royal duties for a round of archery out by the fields.

“STOP! THIEF!”

Just like that, his trail of thoughts were cut short. Mingi snapped his attention towards the direction where the yelling came from. Jogging over to where the crowd had gathered, he was nearly bowled over by a fleeting figure.  

Upon making eye contact for that split second, he could recognise your mirthful eyes from anywhere.

Your eyes crinkled with delight and being bold as to send a wink his way. But your feet never stopped sprinting and within seconds, Mingi had lost you among the sea of townspeople who still went about their business on the street.    

“THEY WENT THAT WAY!”

Mingi looked back to see some of his unit tailing after a few hooded figures who disappeared into the maze of alleyways. Your guild sure knew the layout of the town inside out.

A sigh escaped him. So much for finishing up early for the day.

But if it was a chase you wanted, then it would be a chase you’ll get. Being the respectful gentleman that he was, he’d let you have a head start of course.

Maybe one day, when he’s old and cranky, worn out to his bones – he’d stop running in circles after you.

Luckily for you both, today wasn’t that day.

[wienerbarnes]

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

[immortalcoelacanth]

Beyond the Walls, Chapter 1: Seeking Shelter (Of the Emotional and Physical Kind)

*does a little dance*

As I slowly work through chapter 5 of Between the Walls, I decided to give into the immense urge and create a oneshot/bonus content spin off called Beyond the Walls! Prepare for fluff! Hurt and comfort! And an eventual Hermitcraft crossover because I will generate the content I wish to see in the world!

Word count: 2128

Summary: Not long after settling in with Techno, Tommy discovers an unfortunate side effect of being a borrower in a tundra environment. The unbearable cold. 

Tommy had a problem.

Well, it would be more accurate to say that Tommy had many problems. He lived with someone who could very easily kill him. He still needed to find a way to reunite with Tubbo and get back to Borrowton. He had no idea how to get back to his old home, if he could even call it that, and still needed to come up with a plan to get to his friend.

And, perhaps the worst problem of all, he didn’t have a proper source of heat.

Despite living pretty close to the fireplace that Technoblade had made the borrower could not actually create his own source of heat, unless he wanted to risk accidentally burning everything down. If that did end up happening he knew for a fact he would get kicked out with barely a moment’s notice for lowering Techno’s “property value”, or whatever that meant. This left him relying on the fireplace in the corner of the main room as his source of heat to fight off the chill of the tundra.

Unfortunately for him, there were times where the fire went out and that chill started to sneak in again.

Technoblade was, understandably, not at all bothered by these moments. He was either outside doing… something, or was perfectly fine thanks to his fancy cape, layers of clothing, and the immense amount of heat he seemed to produce.

The hybrid was like a living furnace, while Tommy was the exact opposite.

He got cold easily, really easily, and had always hated it when it snowed at Borrowton. He had many memories of huddling with Tubbo around their furnace, wrapped in many layers of blankets, and still shivering. Now that he was stuck here with his pathetic collection of resources, primarily things he had snagged from the hybrid’s chest, and no real way to keep himself warm. Sure, he had stolen some wool and used that to make a nest, as well as wrapping himself in the too thin blanket that he had been given while being exiled, but it failed horribly and he still felt cold.

Which was why Tommy was currently staring at Techno, sleeping away in his warm bed, and thinking about what he should do.

The fireplace was out, he had no means to light the giant furnaces in the main room or the flimsy furnace he had made for himself, and he did not dare risk trying to light a fire in his own home, so that left him with one option. An option that could easily lead to his death and put him in one of the most embarrassing situations he had ever been in.

Getting closer to Techno and stealing some of his body heat.

… Just thinking about his stupid idea filled him with a mixture of dread and shame. He had no problem with physical contact, he had hugged Tubbo many times and gotten an equal amount of hugs from his friend in return, but this was different. This was him putting himself in danger, exposing not just a physical vulnerability that could result in him getting crushed, but an emotional vulnerability too.

These worries filled his mind as he got closer and closer to Techno’s bed. Several times he froze when the hybrid shifted in his sleep, fearing that he was on the verge of waking up. Every creak of the floor and natural groan of the house left the borrower cringing. He felt scared, but the promise of warmth kept him moving. After climbing up the bedpost connected to the headboard of the bed, he found himself standing in front of Techno’s face.

There was, thankfully, space between them, but the borrower still froze as the reality of what he was about to do dawned on him. He quietly wondered to himself when he would get used to being around someone so… so incomprehensibly massive.  

Slowly, Tommy crept across the bed and approached the slumbering hybrid. The soft surface dipped beneath him with every step he took, and he could feel each exhale, the warm breath ruffling his hair. Anxiety built up in him. At this point he had not physically been close to Techno all that often and he was still more than a little intimidated by his presence. And if the hybrid ended up waking up while he was nearby…

He didn’t want to think about what might happen, the teasing or what retribution might look like if he ended up angering Techno.

However, he needed to do this. He needed to get at least one good night’s sleep instead of the sporadic naps he usually had. He was tired, cold, and more stressed than he would like to admit.  

And so very, very lonely.

Once he reached the edge of the blanket he slipped under it, heart stuttering in his chest as his perspective shifted. After laying down, and seeing how much more Techno’s still form loomed over him, he curled up while deliberately facing away from the hybrid, and tried to sleep.

This… this was better. The blanket was nice and heavy, locking in the heat around him, but it failed to generate its own warmth and just resulted in the borrower continuing to tremble thanks to the cold.

It sucked!

He let out a frustrated growl as he tried, and failed, to dramatically fling the heavy blanket off him. All he ended up doing was slapping at the bulky fabric before squirming out from under it. Feeling colder than ever now that he was back out in the open air, he promptly wrapped his arms around himself and tried to ignore the chattering of his teeth as he continued shivering.

Shivering, until another gust of warm air rolled over him.

Technoblade.

…

Ooooooh noooooo.

Absolutely not! There was no way in hell he was going to try getting any closer to him than he had to be! Besides, the thought of… of cuddling someone other than Tubbo was absolutely humiliating! He would rather spend the rest of the night dealing with the cold than resort to such a desperate measure.

However, another gust of warm air quickly had him changing his mind.

For once in his life, Tommy carefully took his time as he got closer and closer to his target. The tension that left his hands trembling and shoulders rigid started to fade as the heat radiated by Techno started to sink into him. Reluctance replaced by an eagerness that begged him to get as close as possible, the borrower paused and weighed his options. He could, of course, just lay down beside the hybrid, but that left him open to being crushed if Techno rolled over in his sleep. Using the pillow would probably result in a similar fate, or him being immediately seen and getting in trouble.

But then he noticed where one of Techno’s hands was.

Curled up close to the hybrid’s chest, yet still having more than enough space for someone his size to lay there, it was the only spot where Tommy didn’t see himself getting crushed or caught instantly.

Which was pretty iconic all things considered.

He was hesitant, who wouldn’t be, at the thought of essentially sitting in Techno’s hand and trying to get some decent sleep, but the choice was looking more and more tempting as he thought about how warm and cozy it would be. Besides, he had to be a heavy sleeper, right?! None of his nighttime tunneling had ever seemed to disturb the hybrid while he slept, so surely he wouldn’t notice anything!

Plan now firmly in mind, Tommy set out to complete his mission. Still being as careful as he could make himself be, he slipped over Techno’s forearm. Landing in the open space and partially trapped by the arm behind him and the chest in front of him, the borrower was relieved to realize this would function as the perfect escape route in case anything happened.

As long as Techno didn’t move, of course.

Now feeling more comfortable and confident, he crept towards the hand in front of him. He stared at it, eyes narrowing as he tried to think of the best way to execute his plan. There was the obvious option of climbing into the partially open hand, but just thinking about it made him feel so weird.

Just… fuck!

This whole thing was so weird! Weird and foreign and a situation he never thought he would find himself in, and it left his stomach feeling like it was doing flips! He felt so nervous, full of energy, and strangely excited at the same time. The anticipation fueled by adrenaline left him frozen in place, legs practically vibrating as he struggled to both move and not move. And there he stayed, frozen in place by his own buzzing anxiety, until a loud snore that startled him resulted in him stumbling both literally and figuratively into Techno’s clutches.

Unfortunately, this was the moment where things started to go wrong.

A quiet, fearful whine escaped Tommy as everything around him moved, Techno once again shifting in his sleep. The hand behind him was pressed against his back, forcing him closer to the hybrid’s chest and nearly cutting off his escape route in the process. Shadows closed in around him, encasing him in darkness. Finally, he heard what would have been a quiet rumbling noise were it not for the fact that he was basically being cradled against Techno’s chest. The sheer volume of the sound was something he could feel in his lungs-

“What the fuck.” He quietly whispered to himself, unable to see how one of Techno’s ears flicked in response to the noise. For a moment, he contemplated making a break for it and sprinting back to the walls, getting away before the hybrid woke up. He was too vulnerable here, his choices were limited if something went horribly wrong, so many things could go wrong, he could die-

And yet, he felt so warm.

Tension slowly seeping out of him, Tommy let out a sigh and clung to the expansive shirt in front of him. His eyes shut and he listened to Techno’s steady breathing and the slow pounding of his heart. Even the hand behind him, something that could easily kill him, seemed to be nothing more than a protective barrier hiding him from the rest of the world as it was, very gently, pressed against him.

Despite all the anxiety and fear that had previously bubbled up in him, he felt… safe.

Truly and genuinely safe for the first time since he had been exiled.

So, it was no surprise when he quickly found himself falling asleep. He did not fight the welcoming embrace of oblivion as it engulfed him, nor did he stir when the hand cradling him shifted. A thumb was pressed against his back and slow circles were traced into it. It was a soothing gesture, something that caused the sleeping borrower to smile in his sleep as he listened to the gentle rumbling that acted as a lullaby.

For the first night since arriving at the cabin, Tommy found himself getting a good night’s rest.

Hours later, the light of the afternoon sun shone through the windows, one of the beams hitting Technoblade in the face. He let out annoyed huff and slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light. For a moment he contemplated on whether he should try and fall back asleep, retirement was not all that exciting and he could afford to sleep away a few days, but ultimately decided not to. Just before getting up, he glanced down at the hand cupped against his chest, seeing-

Nothing.

It was empty.

An amused snort escaped him and he shook his head. His hearing told him enough about where Tommy was, hidden under the bed based on the sounds of his panicked yet muffled cursing, but he ultimately chose to ignore the borrower. As Techno sat up, stretched, and got ready to start the day, Tommy sprinted towards the hidden hole in the wall and ducked inside, hoping that his quest for warmth during the night had gone unnoticed.

It was a hope that died when, as the night drew closer and the cold grew stronger, he noticed Techno adding more logs to the fire than he usually did. His hope died further when the hybrid smirked at him and spoke.

“Don’t want it getting too cold at night.”

Coincidently, this was the greatest amount of regret that Tommy had ever experienced in his life. Regret that would only be surpassed by a decision he would make at some point in the future.

But that is a tale for another time.

                                    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I’m legally obligated to allude to angst every time I write! Please bear with me as my scatterbrained self navigates how to best write these oneshots without spiraling into spoilers for the main fic, or just going total Hermitcraft as the urge is immense. 

[theflashdriver]

Powerless (A Silvaze Oneshot)

Standing on a cloud, thirty-five-thousand feet above the world, was nothing new to Silver. This was the height that he would, on occasion, retreat to for privacy whenever the world beneath grew too chaotic. Usually, this space was beautiful and safe, a sanctuary just a half step closer to the warmth of the sun or the sparkling night sky. On this occasion however, his skyward territory became home to a monster.

Sprawled beneath him, stretching to the horizon in all directions, black-grey clouds convulsed like some kind of foreign sea. Above him though, the same blue sky he knew so well gleamed like a pool of pristine water with some manner of strange glowing treasure sailing aimlessly across its body. Despite the world he knew lay beneath him, despite the chaotic force that had so thoroughly scarred the planet’s crust this past two-hundred years, with this blue sky above, Silver knew that things could be made right. Things would be made right.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t hanging up here for some simple moral boost- the wind was chilling him far too much for that to be the case. He was watching the clouds to the east with an intensity harnessed for only one task; the task that was his life’s work. To his back was a vehicle he’d stolen from the world bellow; a lengthy black eight-wheeler and its trailer that had gone somewhat undamaged, secured in an underground parking lot. Though the vehicle wasn’t yet straining his psychic grip, he’d begin to feel its weight if he had to hold it for much longer. A beast would soon arrive from the east, he’d heard and seen it pass overhead thirty times a day at least. Though he knew that patience was key to this plan, a concoction of the cold, time and his own anticipation was gouging his resilience.

In an effort to forget what he felt, the psychic hedgehog shifted to a more meditative position, crossing his legs as he hovered and reflecting on the world bellow. It had surely been dark for generations now; the clouds had refused to part no matter the energy he put into his palms in an attempt to splay them. The ground, the buildings, the earth, the trees; nothing was exempt from the ferocious cracks and scars left by the titanic monster that soared at thirty-thousand feet. Though he was yet to see the monster’s true form, only the glimpse of a talon or the wavering of a wing, Silver had seen the devastation that travelled alongside it. Lightning would rain from the sky as though it was mere rain or hail but arrive with a combined force comparable to a meteor strike.

He’d walked a ground so crudely uneven, splattered and corrupted by constant melting, and watched as bolts of energy tore stone from buildings in terrifying blasts. It was no wonder that life in this world had been snuffed out, just as no one walked the streets, no plants grew on the surface. Even in searching catacombs and subway systems, the only pieces of infrastructure that remained relatively intact, they hadn’t found so much as a body. Nothing could survive here, not as long as this monster lingered in the air. Before their arrival, this world had surely gone untravelled since mere months or years after that creature appeared.

His partner was awaiting him on the surface, preparing for his success. The longer they lingered here with this thing tearing across the sky, laying siege to the land, the more danger they were in. The more danger she was in. This was their first time working one of these jobs together since they’d been separated, it’d been a lifetime ago, but their spent struggles still felt so fresh. If she got hurt doing this then he wasn’t sure what he’d-

A thundercrack tore Silver’s eyes open and threw his attention back to the horizon. Light had begun to spew from the clouds, dancing out of them in the form of countless blinding energy waves. The beast was approaching, the terrifying creature they’d watched and researched during their brief stay here- the bird of lightning was almost upon them. With each flap of its wing, with every squawk and flit, the bird dispensed a torrent of electricity that blasted and melted the ground bellow. Every pockmark and demolished building in the city could be traced back to this terrifying beast, it was the cause of this world’s calamity; it was responsible for billions of lives destroyed.

As it grew closer still, the count between the emergence of lighting and its thunderous caws was growing shorter and shorter. Silver began to mumble a stanza they’d come across in their research, “For the bird of lightning doth only shine… whilst it lingers amongst the clouds. It never nests nor roosts, not for the slightest moment …” He his teeth clench, he struggled to recall what came next, “For as long as it flies, it will survive. Heed its crackling caw and fear the flitting of it feathers, that armour that grants it permanence.”

With little data about the bird either existing or remaining, they had been forced to utilise ancient texts. He just hoped they were correct. As far as he and his partner understood, they had to knock down this bird to stand any chance of defeating it. He had to push this thing towards the earth, this monster that had flown uninterrupted for so very long. Silver finally began to move, the great vehicle hung just behind his head as he raced towards the cloud barrier with the intent to intercept. From up here, just as bellow, he couldn’t see the monster, but he could perfectly tell where it lay by the ferocious crack of thunder and the bright light that pierced even those grey clouds. Their trajectories were set to align.

Suddenly, the dancing bolts of white and blue light began to lurch towards him, bouncing off his psychic glow, but it soon became clear that he wasn’t their target. Though his glowing grasp was strong, it was now enduring a hail of lightning bolts the likes of which he’d never experienced. The truck was acting as a lightning rod. Silver grimaced mid-flight, if his grip slackened then this would all be for naught. The moment was here. He had to act!

His arms swung forward, bringing the great vehicle over his head and pushing it in front of him as a meteoric battering ram. The cloud layer was breached, a mighty thud briefly silenced the thunder. The bird of lightning was struck! But a single blow was not enough.

The vehicle’s rear now in front of him. Pushing with all his might, the hedgehog intended to make full use of his makeshift weapon. He roared as psychic power flew from him, aided only by gravity as he pushed both of them towards the ground. Lightning bolt after lightning bolt chased along and off of the lorry, bounding up against him and fizzling against his aura. With each passing second, each push and bead of sweat, they were approaching terminal velocity and the burnt earth bellow.

One of a dozen lightning bolts pierced through his barrier, catching his right shoulder. Seconds later, another one of fifty cut through again and scored the centre of his right palm. Every blast, every skyward surge of voltage, came with a wailing cacophony of thunder that echoed endlessly in Silver’s ears. With each passing moment, he could feel his own energy being sapped by his endeavour. Yet there was still every chance that his job was far from done.

He broke through the cloud layer, pushing the bird down ahead of him!

Now able to see the devastated ground below, the hedgehog shut his eyes and grit his teeth, “It makes no nest of iron, for that would ground its power,” He felt another shock course through his system, only half muted by his aura, “It secures no roost, for that would leave it exposed…” It was like the monster was fighting back, attempting to peel away his psychic grasp, “To all that dwell on the surface!”

His voice gave way to a scream as he felt tracing electricity continue to ricochet along metal, bouncing until it inevitably crashed into him. He could feel it now, the pain was gathering in one place; the voltage was dancing into the heavy metal bangles that were meant to protect his wrists from the kickback of his own power. His fur was surely being scorched, just as his power was being burnt up. Bit by bit and step by step, he was losing both his physical and mental might. He could see the flash on the underside of his eyelids, the coursing of ampers forced spasms from his arms and brought his grasp to weaken. He could feel it slipping, all of it, the truck from his grasp, the strength of his body and the consciousness from his mind.

That was until, in an instant, fresh pain vanished from Silver’s body; an anomaly accompanied by the sound of a cataclysmic smash.

In less than a moment, light faded from his surroundings. He felt a force like his palms slamming into the dirt after a million-mile fall and felt the associated tremor. For a moment, above the whining of his ears, Silver could only hear the crinkling of metal as he blindly forced the truck further downward. The noise was however quickly corrupted by the hoarse screaming of the beast beneath it. His eyes cracked open only to be filled with dust. By the time he’d blinked through it; Silver could see a skeletal bird, faintly crackling with light blue energy. Its wings were longer than those of any plane and its was beak looked sharper than any sword. Beneath his psychic might and the weight of the now mishappen truck however, the lightning bird had been pinned!

“Do it, Blaze! Do it now!” He screamed, feeling his grip begin to slacken as the creature shook in an attempted to rise.

From a set of stairs to the underground, like a pirouetting firework, Blaze shot free and lit their soot-covered surroundings. Immediately, she set upon the bird with all here flaming might, rushing in a circle around its form and throwing punch after kick after punch. The sound of thunderclaps resumed as the beast writhed, undoubtedly experiencing true pain for the first time in almost two hundred years. The soot from the world it had long burned with javelins of lightning was now cast into the air, higher than it.

Silver didn’t have so much as a moment to smile though. In the wake of the pain, the creature managed to force itself back onto its feet. Loosing another roar, the hedgehog reupped his psychic might and continued to push the burnt metal mass into the bird’s spine. He could see Blaze throwing attack after attack out, bones would crack and char, but they refused to full break. The monster began to shift and swivel, lashing at her whilst simultaneously trying to slide the weight off of its back and onto the ground.

Roaring again, welling psychic charge in his aching hands, Silver pushed with all his will. It was like attempting to halt a greased earthquake with a single finger, any of the lightning bird’s countless movements could have been the one to send the eight-wheeler up and into his frame. Rather than move and attempt to alleviate that chance, Silver knew what he had to do; he was wasting energy by spanning the air between himself and the vehicle.

Silver flew down even further, forcing his shielded hands against the truck’s rear door and channelling every ounce of both mental and physical energy into it. His effort was rewarded immediately, he felt the creature buckle beneath his power. It didn’t last for more than a moment, almost immediately the creature was pushing back. Silver felt his arms buckle, but his psychokinetic might was holding strong.

He couldn’t see her now, his vision was too filled, but every half second a burst of heat and the sight of orange light told him that Blaze was still battling the beast. Surely, she was injuring it? Time was becoming difficult to process under the strain of his effort, whether minutes or seconds were passing quickly became a blur.

He tried to call out, “Blaze! Is it-

A lurch from beneath forced his chest against the truck’s doors, he felt the monster’s shear strength rebuke him. Despite the pain and sudden shock, a familiar shout pulled him free from hesitation, “It’s working! Don’t give up, just a little more!”

As his eyes cracked open again, he found himself face to face with the latch of the truck’s freight. A plan formed in his mind; there was a way to gain more control of this gigantic mass, but it came at the cost of visibility. It took another lurch, one that almost threw him back into the air, for the hedgehog to act.

Only hesitating for a second longer, he undid the latch and fell into the depths of the truck’s empty cargo hold. He hit the back wall, immediately pushing his hands against it and maintaining his psychic strenth. Again, he felt the mass beneath him buckle and shift in response to the increased pressure. This time though, it didn’t manage to kick back!

Now closer, Silver could hear every strike Blaze made against the creature and its floundering attempts to rebuke her. He quickly picked up on a rhythm, Blaze would make two lighter attacks followed by a heavier one. With his power running dry, he knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He probably only had the strength to handle one more big push or a handful of minutes; the former seemed far more appealing.

Silver shut his eyes and held his breath, trying to get an exact feel for the force and sound of Blaze’s blows. Consistently yet inconsistently the creature would wobble following its shift to attack her, likely strained by the weight pushing down on it. That was the moment to strike, that momentary waver was when the monster was at its weakest.

“Blaze! I’ve got one push left! Give it your all!” He shouted, almost certain that she couldn’t even hear him.

All of a sudden, rather than another attack, Silver felt the blows cease. The only sound was that of the lightning bird, screaming and thundering against the ground. He strained as he felt it successfully rise, managing to push back against him. A low buzz began to sound, static began to rumble beneath his fingers, what had happened to Bla-

The sound of roaring flames snuffed all other noise, save for the immediate screech of the bird beneath him. Silver felt a wave of heat immediately rise, shrouding his entire frame and threatening to destroy his power on its lonesome. Without a moment to spare, before his power could be fully stripped away, Silver heaved all the psychic weight he could muster downward.

Something beneath him, the be it the eight-wheeler’s engine or the beast, immediately crumpled. Regardless of what it was, the hedgehog continued to push, shunting his very soul against the wall in front of him. Mental brawn continued to prevail, despite the rising heat. Even as the walls on both sides of him caught alight, he pushed forward without an ounce of hesitation.

It took a second impact to make him to stop; that of his force finally meeting something truly immovable. Though he could not discern the cause of this collision but, still face down in the now burning cargo hold, he knew it would be the last. Though he tried to send one last shunt through the mass, the glow of his psychic powers refused to manifest. It was in the wake of that proof of his energy’s end that the truck itself tumbled. The shift of its landing sending him briefly into the air before tumbling to the floor. He landed on his back, staring now at a ceiling that he wasn’t sure was intended to be the ceiling.

It was only once his head had stopped spinning (though his ears were still ringing deaf), that Silver noticed the fire had vanished from his surroundings. Before he could even piece together what that change meant, a figure stepped into his vision. With a still inaudible snap of her fingers, firelight filled Blaze the cat’s hand. In contrast to how he surely appeared, the now princess of the Sol dimension was pristine and proper as ever as she knelt down next to him.

Struggling, he tried to speak, “So, we did it?”

He saw her lips move but, ears still ringing, he couldn’t make out a word. The princess looked as serious as ever, and she was saying a lot, but, beneath that veneer, Silver could still pick up on her small mannerism. The slightest smile on her lips, the softness of her ears and the time she was taking to clearly lecture him; those were a sign enough.

Regardless of how tired the hedgehog was, he felt a grin manifest on his face, “Wonderful, we did it… the future is saved again…”

Her hand extended in his direction. She was talking again; he could hear that much now, but the words were entirely unclear. The hedgehog was too tired to properly hear right now, let alone listen.

Silver winced as he raised his arm, catching sight of the presently dulled symbol on his hand. Though he successfully reached out, she did the entirety of the grasping. Pulled up by his wrist, the hedgehog managed to land on his soles but could not stand for long on them. He stumbled forward, ploughing directly into the feline and pushing her against the trailer’s wall. His head came to contact still-warm metal, positioned less than an inch from hers.

Awkwardly, he tried to stumble back but couldn’t shift his own feet, “S-Sorry, I’m a bit worn out…”

The psychic didn’t have to see her lips or hear her voice to know she’d called him naïve. He felt her grasp leave his as she shifted, wrapping an arm around his side before, so very casually, heaving him up by the legs. She’d held him like this on a handful of occasions, usually after fights like this, but the lithe feline’s strength never ceased to astonish him. Even after what had surely been a hard fight, she could manage this much while he was exhausted.

“Thank you,” He managed to mumble, feeling warmth radiate from her.

As she began to move, due mostly to his position, the hedgehog’s eyes locked upon her face. She was just as untouched as he first thought, her white muzzle entirely uninjured. The main change in her form was a thin layer of soot, marking both her fur and the deep purple overcoat she wore. Outside that, Silver could only see one thing of note; through the conflict, her ponytail had surely slackened. A single lock of her air had slipped free from the binding, cascading down to arrive just outside the gaze of her right eye. Had he the strength, he’d have adored reaching up to brush back that hanging strand.

Sunlight hailed down on them as they stepped free from the trailer. The black clouds seemed to have vanished, that or they’d transmogrified into mush smaller white ones. Blue sky hung above them, so perfectly regular, but Silver couldn’t bring himself to move his head and get a clearer view. Instead, he could see that the sun was perfectly framing the princess, granting her a halo and causing her shadow to cast over him. From that frame of reference, despite the soot, it was as though things had never been destroyed and the bird had never existed; it was as if they were already back in the past or her dimension.

“What a lovely view…” He hummed, unwilling to let himself so much as blink despite the weight of his eyelids.

A moment now passed, the ringing beginning to fade, Silver managed to pick up the end of her sentence, “…and you should have seen the sky clear; it was beautiful.”

“Maybe next time,” He rolled his head back against her shoulder, trying to find a comfortable position, “Can we go sleep now?”

“In a while, I need to patch you up first,” Her amber eyes flickered down to him, seriousness had lightly reclaimed her face, “You can hear me now then? If I didn’t know you better, I’d have thought you were dying.”

“But you do know me,” he mumbled, too tired to really think.

The look she gave him served to rouse him a little more, but it softened back to a mild stern glare as spoke again, “Regardless, I’m happy to see you in one piece, even if it’s a battered and fried one,” She resumed walking, a tutting tone still hanging in her voice, “It’ll be days before you can stand to use chaos control.”

“No, I’ll be fine tomorrow, I promise,” He insisted, eyelids still so very heavy.

“Oh, hush. You need rest,” She insisted, her tone again softening, “We’ll only attempt it when you’re fully healed, we don’t want to end up misplacing ourselves.”

That had happened a handful of times and was in fact the reason they’d reunited, “If you’re sure… it’s just that I promised Marine that we’d be back as soon as possible.”

That drew a snort from her, seeing the slightest smile on her lips put him even further at ease, “Well, we will be. As soon as possible is after you’re back at one hundred percent.”

He felt her turn and stop; reflexively, he followed her stare to the space ahead of them. The devastation caused by their fight with the creature was clear. Before them lay a giant bird skeleton, the front two thirds of a truck’s cab melted into its cracked and splayed ribs. A combination of his final push and her flaming endeavour had seemingly split the creature in two; its spine had been crushed just above the hips, that seemed to be the cause of its death.

The cause of its life however was plain to see, the orange insignia of moustached face with a grinning maw has weathered Blaze’s charring. They didn’t know all the details, though newspapers found in subways had informed them of the rough date of the occurrence. The lightning bird was a long dead creature that Eggman had revived, likely through the power of the chaos emeralds, and probably thought he could control. That seemed in line with the way things typically went for the evil doctor; taking advantage of something he didn’t truly understand and causing untold havoc in the process.

Flanking the skeleton was the devastation it had wreaked upon civilisation. They were near the heart of station square, but, due to the devastation, identifying it as such was virtually impossible. Two hundred years of lightning strikes had reduced much of the concrete and exposed infrastructure into a black sand desert, what little remained of the skyline appearing as little more than crumbling ziggurats. What appeared to the eye as simple soot from a fire was the pulverised remains of civilisation and life. This was Eggman’s fault, rather than the beast. The damage was the simple result of the creature’s existence, something out with its control.

Despite the depth of his sleepy thoughts, a far simpler sentence trailed from Silver’s mouth, “It really was just a big bird skeleton.”

“It certainly looks that way now, just like the cave paintings,” Blaze mused, “Once we’re reunited with the others, we should be more than able to either stop its revival or kill it soon after.”

“We know when it shows up, we just need to figure out where Eggman’s newest base is,” He hummed, turning back to her, “The others should have some idea, that or Tails will be able to figure it out.”

Blaze turned from the wreckage, turning him with her, “That and, before the devastation, researching where its remains were should be a whole lot easier.”

He nodded in agreement, finding his tongue was growing too heavy. The hedgehog was in a peculiar and uncomfortable state. Luckily, he couldn’t feel many of his injuries due to the numbness that came with overusing his powers. He was in that awkward position of being too exhausted to fall asleep in the feline’s arms; a fact exemplified as he yawned only to get stuck halfway in an annoyingly unsatisfying way. As his eyes reopened, Silver started to look past Blaze as she brought them down the very stairs she’d hid beneath before racing out to strike the beast.

While the land of the surface had been devastated, underground tunnels and subway systems had relatively endured the two-hundred-year assault. Station square’s own subway loop had become their base of operations over the two and a half weeks they’d spent in this future. They’d lit the subway space using braziers constructed from old buckets and barrels but, with the sky now clear, there was no need to light them. Cracks created by the lightning bird’s attacks were now letting in sunbeams, lighting their way as she alighted the stairs.

Silver turned from her face to watch the tiled walls pass as the feline jumped over a turnstile and began to walk down what was once escalator, heading towards the subway station they’d come to primarily utilise. They’d chosen this station in particular as it was where the train had stopped, leaving somewhat of a building to call home and the rough yet plush interior of the carts to use as beds. Seeing it now, lightly lit by the cracks in the ceiling, was astonishing. The subway train looked so picturesque; it’d been claimed by fungus and heartier plants long before they arrived, but it couldn’t have received much light at all until now. This place had become their tether to the past, being the originator of unsold and abandoned newspapers as well as general evidence of people’s lives just before the end times.

“Home sweet home,” He managed to softly sigh, being carried up and over the hearth by the feline.

This cart, the one primarily used for resting, was uniquely laid out. Rather than rows of seats, long benches spanned the entire length of the walls, only breaking at the room’s parallel doors. Blaze rather took him to the bench on the immediate right, not setting him to lie under his covers but to sit atop them. This was his bedspace, hers was on the bench parallel.

He began to slump over, wanting to send his head to his pillow, but Blaze caught him by the muzzle, “No, not yet. No sleeping till I’ve properly patched you up.”

“Fine,” He leant into her grasp, feeling the warmth of her palm and staring up at her, “Can you lean down here first though?”

He saw misplaced concern in her gaze as she took her hand back before bending down to eye level with him, “What is it?”

His right hand had started to hurt, there was a seething pain near the centre of his palm, so he was forced to reach across with his left. Rather clumsily, Silver brushed the stray lock of hair up and back behind her ear, “That’s all. It looked like it’d get in your way.”

A wave of heat exuded from the feline as she shot up to stand at her full height, seriousness had furrowed her brow, but a strange phenomenon had claimed her muzzle. Though her expression was fittingly serious, it looked so incredibly forced; a truth made certain by the manifestation of the strange pinkness he’d seen on her cheeks a handful on times. None of it was new to him, but the sight still made him smile. It was strange to think, but the only word he could use to describe it was cute.

She turned for the door, her tail lashing, “You’re clearly exhausted. I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’ll try,” He promised, managing another failed yawn as she yanked open the door separating the cars.

Their primary storage space was in there, they’d filled it to bursting with all the supplies they’d brought from her dimension and what little they’d managed to gather from their surroundings. It had however been scarce pickings, due to the lack of lingering infrastructure. When they’d found the truck they’d gone through all the cars and managed to salvage material for burning but little more. Despite how short their stay had been here, besting the beast with relative ease, it was more than obvious why the presence of the lightning bird had been enough to end the world. Electronics couldn’t face the monster in an airborne battle and those on the surface had been bombarded much too quickly.

Silver turned to the room he was in, taking stock of it. Pending how much he was actually hurt, he recognised that today might be the last day he slept here. At the room’s centre was a large garbage bin, one they’d used to light fires and keep warm; above it was a hole they’d cut out of the ceiling to vent the smoke. The benches left of the entryway had unique purposes. The one on his side was effectively acted as their kitchen. They had brought trunks with cold storage compartments with them, filled with various vegetables and fruits, but also dehydrated food that they’d recently started to use. Blaze would start a fire at the room’s centre, he would handle the cooking; they shared in it as they did all tasks.

Odds were that he probably should eat something, but he doubted he could manage that in his current state; despite his shouting during the fight, he wasn’t even aware enough to feel parched. They’d successfully gathered water from the black cloud’s storms and purified it using her pyrokinesis. For drinking, he’d catch the rainwater using his power, convening trickled rivers from the several holes in the ceiling, and she would perform contained evaporation. Recently, the feline had been expanding her use of her powers; trying new things and practicing them in new ways. She’d once been so afraid to use them; the simple thought of her so casually lighting their cooker never failed to make him smile. She always wanted to do more, to help in even the smallest ways. Others might have thought that tendency was a result of her royal upbringing, but Silver new better; regardless of her birth, she had always been this way.

The additional bench on her side had become their makeshift library, stocked with the various newspapers and tabloids they’d found in the tunnels as well as their brought literature. For Blaze that meant a small collection of poetry books, a few of which he had read but failed to absorb, while his pile was focused on the nature and history of her world. He reached out with his left hand, trying to wield his psychic power and tug a book over, but his symbol couldn’t even manage a full cyan glow. He was fully tapped, entirely drained.

It took the sound of footsteps, signalling the pyrokinetic’s arrival, to remount his attention. Blaze had returned to him with a small box of medical supplies in one hand, still covered in soot. From behind her back, she produced a small metal mug filled with water.

“Drink,” She commanded, “It’ll make your head feel better.”

The guardian knew better than him, she’d delt with him in states like this a dozen times over, “Thank you,” He manged to respond.

Just as he had almost finished sipping, she had knelt down in front of him and flipped the box open. It was only as he looked down to her, still feeling heat radiate, that he noticed the bloody state of his knees. Evidently, he’d gone down hard on them during his various landings.

“Can you get your boots off?” She asked, using her teeth to tear an alcohol wipe free from its pouch.

Slowly and awkwardly, the hedgehog manged to raise his right leg and tug the shoe off, but the left was far less cooperative. Now that he’d seen the state of his knees, it was as though they were constantly reminding him of their damage. He didn’t even have to speak for Blaze to notice his struggle though. Setting the wipe aside, she gingerly managed to pull the shoe off and set it aside. Thankfully, it didn’t look like he’d crushed his feet during the fight.

“You know this is going to sting,” She reminded him, retaking the swab. Her brows were hard, she was focused on this task, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, it’s not like it’s our first time doing this,” He leant back and gave her a smile. Though he put all his will and truth behind it, the gesture was surely meek, “I trust you, Blaze. It’ll be fine.”

Having said that, his toes did curl, and his canines did grit, at the first contact. Blaze was working diligently, clearly swabbing as gently as she could but making sure to be thorough, “Try to get your gloves off too, you’re bleeding on your right.”

Again, he hadn’t even noticed. Glancing down, the gloved hand he’d been struggling to move was indeed more red than white currently. He could still move his fingers, but it did feel incredibly raw. He opted to try the left first, biting the glove’s forefinger between his canines and tugging it free. There was some bruising at the bottom of his palm, and some small scorch marks around his wrist, but nothing too dramatic. When he tried to more regularly pull off his right glove though, move of an issue became immediately apparent. As he tugged at the fingers, a tearing pain brought him to cringe.

His gaze flickered to Blaze, she’d already wiped the worst of the blood from his knees and begun to scavenge for bandages and dressings. Though she looked unscathed, the confrontation had undoubtedly drained her too. He had to handle at least this much, take at least a little pressure off of her.

He grabbed the glove again, gently taking it the wrist-hole, and began to turn it inside out. The primary issue immediately became clear. Where electricity had been conducted to his right bangle, there was a sizable gouge running across the top of his wrist. Beyond there, he came across another issue; it seems as though the lightning had blackened a small patch of glove near the centre of his palm in particu-

“Silver,” She cut off his efforts, he felt her hand on his thigh. As he looked down to her, he found that his right knee was already bandaged and she was partway through treating the left, “If you’re struggling then just let me do it. I’m fine, I promise.”

Vulnerability prompted action, he took the cup she’d brought him and held it out to her. Knowing his partner, she’d got him water without considering herself, “If you drink, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Blaze did take the cup from him, but she hesitated upon receiving it. He followed her eyes to the mug’s lip and was about to question why she wasn’t drinking, when she very quickly raised the container to her lips. She seemed to be sipping, but she sipped for quite a long time. By the time she’d lowered the mug again, that cute pinkness had returned to her face. Now that he considered it, he was fairly certain that change was known as a blush; but why was she blushing?

“Are you satisfied?” Her ears were pinned back, she was staring at his knees.

“Y-Yeah,” Why was he stammering now? What was happening? “Are you okay?”

“I said I’m fine,” She insisted. With the return of her strong tone, the feline began to work in a slightly faster manner, “You’re the only one who’s hurt.”

“I guess,” He could only respond, noticing that the pink wasn’t fading from her face, “I meant to ask, how was it out there?

“Without its power and trapped beneath you, the creature was practically harmless,” She relayed, drawing a safety pin from the box and starting to secure his bindings, “I was able to hit it time after time without it so much as touching me, I could have done it for hours.”

“Sorry I couldn’t hold up for that long,” He conceded, his chest filling with pride in his partner, “That sounds incredible though, I wish I could have seen it. Watching you fight is always incredible Blaze!”

“It was nothing special,” She insisted, finishing on his left leg before rising, “Right, now let’s see to that hand.”

“Oh, right,” It’d already slipped his mind.

As she took up the bench to his right, bringing the first aid kit to sit on her lap, he quickly took a sip from the mug before setting it down on his left. When he turned back to her, the blush that had begun to fade was back on her cheeks. Her gaze was locked on the box, she was fiddling with some of the equipment, and heat was flagging from her.

“Are you sure you’re okay Blaze,” He questioned, shuffling a little closer, “You’ve been blushing a lot.”

“It’s just the exercise, it’s been a while since I’ve fought properly. I’m a little flushed, just a little out of breath,” She quickly insisted, even redder as she turned to face him, “Now, let me see your hands.”

His head tilted as he reached out with both too her, “But you said it was an easy fight?”

The pyrokinetic didn’t answer his confusion, instead tearing open another swab’s pouch with her teeth and getting to work on his left hand. He tried not to cringe as she cleaned around his scorched wrist, but the pain brought one of his eyes to close. A simple bandage was easily cut to size and bound around the worst looking part of the injury. That had been pretty painful, but his right hand was undoubtedly going to be a whole lot worse.

He immediately winced as she began to shift the glove, folding it back from his wrist just as he had prior. Blaze leaned in to better look at the hand, seeming to identify the sudden tension across his body as she reached that point. He watched her brow furrow as she gingerly tried to raise the fabric, hearing him reflectively hiss. Before his eyes could cringe shut though, he’d recognised the issue; his flesh had indeed been fused with his glove in the wake of lightning’s burn.

Blaze set his hand on her lap and drew a small set of scissors from the box, “This is going to hurt. I’ll try to be as gentle as possible… but let me know if it gets too painful.”

It took him nodding for her to proceed.

She started at the edge of his hand, away from his thumb, and cut along the white material. The guardian was working diligently and carefully, keeping her eyes to her work. That left him plenty of opportunity to grimace and roll his toes as he realised just how raw that flesh was, every snip and shift sent a not insignificant wave of pain through the hedgehog.

Reaching parallel with the bottom of his fingers, she turned the scissors inward and began to cut along the inner material at the top of his palm. The pain was always at its height just before the cut, when the tension was at its greatest. She reached the other side relatively quickly though, then slicing along the front of his thumb. The material on both sides of his hands immediately loosened and a sharp sigh slipped from his lips. She began to ease the back and fingers of the gloves free from his hand, prompting him to clench. Blaze glanced up, plainly noticing his strained expression.

She stopped, frowning up at him, “You’re so naïve, I said to say if it was hurting too much.”

“You’d still have to do it though, regardless of how much it’s hurting, right?” He winced as she reached up, taking a small, wet, cloth to his brow.

“That doesn’t mean we need to rush it,” She tutted, dabbing his muzzle and cheeks, “We can do this little bit by little bit.”

“I can handle it, it’s okay,” He insisted, watching as she pulled the cloth away, “And there’s only really one bit left to deal with, right?”

She was the one to grimace this time, “I was saving the worst for last… but if you’re sure…”

Again, she was looking to him for confirmation. He gave the best smile and nod his strength could muster, but he was certain the expression betrayed him. Despite that, his partner accepted the consent.

Deftly, the back and fingers of the glove were peeled off of his hand and left to tumble to the floor. Though it hurt, Blaze was right; the worst was yet to come. This wasn’t the first time that they would be dealing with fabric fused to skin, living in a world dominated by Iblis and sparring with Blaze had been caused the hedgehog a multitude of burns, but it was the first time he’d be enduring that pain in this lifetime. At first, they’d simply cut the skin where such damage occurred, cauterising it when the damage was at its worst, but now they knew a little better.

Blaze flipped his hand around and allowed the excess fabric to naturally fall, taking an appearance that resembled a bundled curtain. The excess material, no more than half a centimetre away from the fused mass, was then cut and allowed to fall into the small space between them. He couldn’t help but notice the symbol on the back of his hand, through his still stained fur. Though its light wasn’t shining, the circle was still visible. His power would return, but again the feline had been right. It wouldn’t be days rather than hours until he was back at full power. Before he was too tired to yawn; now pain had roused him, and a headache was forming.

Another glance from the feline seemed to identify that feeling, he watched as she set down the scissors and picked the towel back up. She gingerly began to clean his right hand, starting with his fingers and working his way down the back of his hand. Every at her contact, the slightest glimmer of light ebbed from his symbol before snuffing back to nought.

Their eyes met again, there was nothing left to delay them; Blaze gently flipped his hand back over. Stationed near the centre of his palm-side symbol, blackened and roughly an inch in diameter, remained an innocuous piece of fabric. Blaze raised the already bloodied cloth, the trepidation in her expression was as plain as day.

“I’ll try to make it quick,” She promised.

Silver couldn’t help but hiss when the moment finally came, the flesh around the conjoining material was rubbed with the cloth and raw skin was gradually exposed. As he flinched and grit his teeth, the hedgehog’s quills, no longer supported by his latent psychic power, fully tumbled into his vision. Abrasion was the best way to treat injuries like this, removing the burnt skin and material without damaging healthy mass, but every movement stung and set his teeth on edge. With his free hand, weak as it was, he gripped the edge of the bench.

It didn’t take much more than a minute, Blaze worked as deftly as possible despite his shudders and tensing. Once it appeared the mass had been removed, she drew and opened a trio of alcoholic wipes and began to clean the wound more directly. The pain didn’t vanish, if anything it was worse than before, but he was becoming more accustomed to it.

“Thank you,” He managed to croak.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” She responded, reaching back into the first aid box.

Soon after that, almost before he could comprehend, his right hand and its wrist alike were properly bandaged. A shudder of relief washed over him at the finality of it all, that was until Blaze was back upon him. She’d quickly risen, having taken off and balled her gloves before beginning to ply through his fur, seemingly to both take stock of both her handiwork and search for any remaining injuries. He felt her pass over a handful of bruises, or perhaps they were smaller burns, but nothing seemed to significantly hold her attention.

Her warm hand finally moved to arrive on his forehead and successfully eased back his quills, brushing up to the top of his head before gently lingering there, “You look exhausted.”

“But you’ve been doing all the work,” He heard himself moan. The gloves she’d been using were entirely soaked and her once merely soot covered overcoat was now stained at various points.

“And I’ll continue to do so until you’re back on your feet,” She insisted, taking on the authoritative tone he’d often heard her use in her dimension, “Now lie down.”

The hedgehog did as he was commanded, kicking his feet up onto the bench and setting his head against the pillow. As he went to pull the covers over him, he caught the princess’ eye again, “No, the other way,” He turned onto his side only for Blaze to roll her eyes, “On your stomach.”

“Will this help me heal faster?” He asked face pressed flat into the pillow.

No answer came though, instead Blaze simply responded; “I’ll be back in a moment, I’m just going to clean up a little. Don’t move.”

Evidently, she wasn’t done. Silver heard the subway cart doors slide open then reclose. He shifted his head, putting his chin atop his pillow. In the wake of passed time and her efforts, the adrenaline had well and truly worn off. Outside his more obvious wounds, his entire body was beginning to ache with the echoes of his strenuous effort. His shoulders were still ridged, and his biceps ached. Harsh tension across his form was a regular occurrence that followed more intense psychic endeavours; though it was a power of the mind, full bodily effort was required to make full use of his psychokinesis.

He reached out ahead of himself, ignoring the whine of his left shoulder, and tried to simply push against the leaver on the nearby door. Not even the slightest glow dared to manifest on the leaver or his hand this time; he was totally drained. The likelihood was that he couldn’t even stand at the moment, let alone walk. He was probably weaker now than the likes of Cream, perhaps even Cheese. The thought of the tiny chao mercilessly beating him like a punching bag was enough to make him snicker, but it served as a reminder of how exhausted he was. A more physical reminder came as he struggled to look back behind himself when the door separating the carts slid open again.

Blaze had shed her overcoat. She’d returned to him with that metal cup, assumedly refilled, and was now only garbed in her white leggings and tank top. She’d taken her brief hiatus to wipe much of the soot from herself, having likely disposed of her bloody gloves. Her change in look didn’t hold his attention though; the pink that had reclaimed her cheeks and her averted gaze did that enough.

“Drink,” She insisted again, the mug filled his view.

He rose to one elbow only to find it wasn’t enough, weakness truly had claimed him. As he rose onto both, she held the edge close to him and tilted the vessel. As always, the water was room temperature, but he truly hadn’t realised how parched he was. Even though he had drunk prior, perhaps just due to the numbness having faded, these mouthfuls felt far more refreshing.

“Thank you,” He responded as he final finished, but no response came. The feline was looking away from him, still holding the cup as she had prior, “Blaze?”

His voice seemed to interrupt her train of thought, she pulled the mug back but didn’t respond. Instead, the feline trailed off past him; he heard her set the cup down on the metal floor. She had hesitated just behind him, he felt her fingers drag through one of his longer quills.

“I want to try something else to help you, but I’m not sure I’ll be any good at it,” She half explained, trepidation in her tone, “While I can light our surrounding and help with cooking, I’ve thought of something new I could so with my power. I’ve been trying to practice but…I rather…” He didn’t need to see her to know that she was struggling with whatever this was, “You’re already vulnerable, and if I failed then it would only make things wor-

Without hesitation, before she could talk herself out of it, he gave his answer, “I trust you, Blaze. Whatever it is, go for it.”

Despite his words, she didn’t act yet. Instead, she was prompted to be blunter, “I’m want to try to give you a massage.”

“That’s it? Of course you can give that a shot,” He grinned, even though she couldn’t see.

“I want to try use my powers as I do,” She elaborated, the tension in here voice still very much present, “I’ve been doing some research, some reading, and people use hot stones and heat pads sometimes to relax their muscles. I was curious if I could do the same.”

“Then let’s found out,” He forced himself up further and turned to her, their eyes met for the first time since she’d returned, “Blaze, I trust you. Let’s try it.”

“Just put your face against the pillow and lie flat,” The seriousness in her voice was undiluted, but she had begun her approach before he turned, “And if this is uncomfortable, say. Don’t try to act tough this time.”

“I won’t, I promise,” He spoke back, half muffled as he assumed the instructed position.

The hedgehog heard her shift before he felt her physically; daintily straddling his back, right upon his hips.

A moment later, a wave of heat passed over the top of him, starting strong before quickly subduing itself. Her weight shifted closer to the base of his spine and heard her take a deep breath before, gingerly, the feline’s fingertips contacted his shoulders. The princess’ touch was always warm, but it was more of a background heat than her current concentrated effort.

She’d started at his upper back, just beneath his neck, and near his spine. The feline was being gentle, what little pressure she was exerting being derived from presses with her thumbs. Alike the contact, the heat she was generating was relatively minor. Despite what he’d said, Blaze was plainly holding back, starting small and light. He was more than willing to wait.

“You’re doing great,” He said, certain his words would be muddled by a combination of the pillow and his tiredness.

“You just focus on relaxing,” She insisted, but the prior hesitation in her voice had vanished and a muted softness had taken its place, “Just close your eyes and try to rest.”

Gradually, he felt her other fingers begin to work their way into the action. She grasped along his shoulders, rubbing in circles while simultaneously pushing heat into him. It was with that change that he hedgehog truly began to feel her efforts. She seemed to have reached a point she was comfortable with, both in terms of contact and body temperature. Gradually, she went from aimlessly squeezing around his shoulders to more focused endeavours, pushing the base of her palms against the more fully formed knots in his back. Just like while he was fighting, time had become a mystery to him. He came to fold his arms under his chin and close his eyes, fully focused on her firm contact.

“Are you still awake?” He eventually heard her ask.

The hedgehog managed a small hum, just loud enough to let her know.

“I’m going to move a little lower, remember to let me know if it’s at all uncomfortable,” She reminded him.

He was powerless when it came to her, regardless of the state he was actually in. Though fire was Blaze’s most blatant power, it was far from the only thing at her disposal. She was strong, elegant and capable of enduring tasks far more gruelling than her title of princess would suggest. Beneath the surface though, it was her heart that harboured so many secret skills. Even though she feared the damage her power could do, she was giving her all to help him recover. It was endeavours like that which made him admire her more than anything.

Feeling tiredness finally catch up to him, the hedgehog began to mumble, “How lucky am I to have found you twice? What were the odds of that?” Silver felt a small spike in heat, but no response came from her, “Someone so strong and reliable. Willing to do so much, even when I’m not in this useless state…”

“Silver, you’re delirious,” Her heard her snort, muting the slightest chuckle, “I know you’d do the same for me.”

“Of course I would,” The moment he said that though, he had an idea, “Not could; I will. As soon as you finish, I’ll look after you. I’ll give you a massage too!”

“Don’t be so naïve,” He could practically her eyes rolling, but it was matched by the grin in her voice, “You’ll be getting bedrest first. Maybe in a couple of days you’ll be able to return the favour.”

He tried to turn around but, but that attempt only caused her to strengthen her efforts and keep him pinned. It was as he’d thought before, Silver were powerless when it came to her, “I’ll do it as soon as I can, whether that’s in the next five minutes or the next five days,” He promised.

“This is going to take a lot longer than five minutes,” She tutted, “Let’s focus on you for today. If you can stand by tomorrow, then you can consider pampering me.”

As if to emphasize her point, Silver felt the feline’s grasp tighten and the temperature rise. He supposed she was growing bolder as he was showing his comfort, “Deal. As soon as I’m able, I’ll give you the best day possible in this place. I swear it.”

“If you drain yourself doing that, it’ll become an endless cycle. We’ll never get home,” She responded, soft snideness in her voice.

“Maybe so,” He hummed, feeling her shift a little further down his back, “Guess we’ll have to see who gives in first.”

“I suppose you’ll have to choose between that and your promise to Marine,” She gently taunted, moving her heat between his spines.

Eventually, the hedgehog felt his eyes grow heavy and entire yawns broke beyond his lips. It wasn’t long after that before he heard the same sounding from the pyrokinetic behind her, accompanied by the slight slowing of her movements. He didn’t know what state he’d be in when they woke up, whether her efforts would have some miraculous impact or if he’d be bedridden for days, but he could rest easy with her watching over him.

[4haechie]

stuck with you

➵ request: can i request fluff + au #2 + trope #1 "enemies to lovers" + prompt #4 & #19?? thank you 🥰

➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, enemies to lovers au, high school au | 2,760 words | “take off your shirt.” + “can you shut up for just two seconds?”

➵ warnings: cursing and one second of suggestive stuff

➵ a/n: thank u for requesting! i really hope u like it :D i added timestamps to avoid confusion, so this turned out longer than expected oops. if u want a part 2, please let me know!

want to request? check this post out!

present time – thursday, 6:30 p.m. 

you’re starting to wish time machines existed right about now. you’ll do just about anything to go back to two hours ago and avoid this mess.

you glance up at donghyuck, who’s put on his thinking cap apparently, and is trying to come up with a way to get you two the hell out of here. “do you have a hairpin? or a bobby pin?” he asks.

you shake your head, “donghyuck, that only works in movies.”

“y/n, i’m trying to come up with solutions here! or do you wanna live in this tiny janitor’s closet for the rest of your life?” he glares at you.

“if i did, i would’ve chosen someone else to share oxygen with. why would i choose you?” you glare back.

he rolls his eyes, indicating that that conversation is over. “whatever. try calling your friends again. someone must still be at school, right?”

you frown, “donghyuck, we had the student council meeting earlier, remember? that ended at six, and it’s almost six-thirty now. all the sports teams’ practice sessions must’ve ended, too. i’m telling you, it’s just us in school.” you shake a little as if trying to wake up from a crazy dream. no avail.

you’re stuck here–no, wait. someone locked you two in here. you’re going to have to trace back your steps to figure out who.

thursday, 4:00 p.m.

“the weekly student council meeting is in session. today, we’re going to discuss prom! i’ve put up a list on the bulletin board that says who’s going to do what. please take a look at it immediately.” you explained, gazing around the group of students in front of you.

you’re the president and donghyuck is the vice president. you two work together almost every day, you’re in the same classes, you have the same friends. but there’s one minor detail in your guys’ relationship: you two hate each other.

hate might be a bit too strong of a word, but it’s true. you and donghyuck, despite working together and being in the same class since third grade, have never gotten along. maybe it’s your guys’ competitiveness. maybe it’s your strong desire to one-up the other. but as long as you can recall, there hasn’t been a single time when he hasn’t made your blood boil.

anyway, you and donghyuck were in charge of planning your senior prom, and ensuring everything and everyone follows said plan.

while discussing the event, you realised you forgot to check with your school’s janitor if he’s free on the day of prom, or if he’s taking a holiday. either way was fine with you, as you were thinking of making everyone clean up after themselves. but just to be sure, you and donghyuck, unfortunately, decided to stop by the closet after the meeting had ended.

thursday, 6:05 p.m.

“i don’t think he’s here. it is after school hours, so i think he went home,” you said, peeping into the dark closet. it was pretty obvious he wasn’t there–the room couldn’t have been more than five feet by five feet. it’s a storage space, but the janitor keeps his bag here before starting work and picks it up right before leaving school.

“yeah, no shit, sherlock.” donghyuck reached around you to flip the light switch on. the lone bulb suspended from the ceiling blazed to life, setting the room alight.

then, suddenly, a figure pushed donghyuck into the confined space, which caused you to jerk inwards. it happened so fast, you barely had time to react, or identify the culprit. you heard keys jingling and fear danced around in your eyes.

donghyuck was still facing the door, while you were standing with your back against the wall. he tried his best to look out the little glass rectangle fitted in the door, but he turned around and shook his head in frustration.

“what the fuck just happened,” you said; it came out more as a statement, but anger resonated through your words.

“we, er, just got locked in here.” he deadpanned as if you couldn’t have figured.

you groaned and clenched your fists. “i’m gonna kill them. you didn’t happen to see their face, did you?”

he shook his head, “nope.”

“well, we know one thing. that person had the key–and only two people have the key to the closet. the janitor, who’s not even here, and the general office staff. but i’m sure they wouldn’t lock us in here.” you said.

donghyuck tilted his head, “okay, then, who...” he trailed off, allowing you to vocalise your theories.

 “somebody must have stolen one of the two keys.” your brain’s gears started turning, trying to think of someone who would pull something like this.

“it could be the janitor’s keys. the closet was unlocked when we got here.” donghyuck reminded you.

“yeah...but he never leaves the closet unlocked. he’s very responsible, so it can’t be his set of keys. it’s probably the staff’s set,” you countered. “they barely pay any attention to non-admin matters. that person must’ve stolen their keys, unlocked the door after the janitor left, and waited for us to come here, before locking us in. jesus, i’m so angry. this is so fucking childish,” you groaned again.

donghyuck nodded in slight agreement, surprising you. he never agrees on anything you have to say, but he didn’t have much of a choice in that situation. plus, your theory made sense. “do you think this whole thing was renjun’s idea? he was the one who suggested we check with the janitor about prom night.”

your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god...wait, but it wasn’t renjun’s idea. it was mine, actually–he just reminded me to do so.” you slowly dropped down to the floor and held your head in your hands. you couldn’t believe what was going on. the entire situation seemed to just hit you.

you’re stuck in a small closet with lee donghyuck, your number one enemy.

present time – thursday, 6:40 p.m.

“none of them are picking up. donghyuck, what if they’re all in on this together? kind of like a senior prank–except we’re the ones getting pranked.” you say, panic rising in your voice. you’re standing now, leaning against the wall with your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

knowing your and donghyuck’s friends, you’re sure you’re going to be here all night. they’re quite a bunch. you and donghyuck have a common friend group, but your friends find your ongoing rivalry extremely annoying. it makes perfect sense if they locked you two in here.

donghyuck digests your words quickly. “no way. that’s insane! why the fuck would they do that?”

“well, do you have a better explanation? i’m sure you don’t, considering i’m the only one who’s been thinking of possible theories, while you’re here giving me the only suggestion you have–your stupid bobby pin idea,” you say, breathing heavily.

“can you shut up for just two seconds? always telling me what to do, disagreeing with me, arguing and fighting with me. we’re locked in here, and you think arguing like little kids is gonna get us out?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “god, and to think i had a crush on you last year.” he must not have meant to reveal that little secret, because his ears turn red instantly.

you gape at him, “what–what did you say?”

“look at you, getting a big head again–!”

“donghyuck.”

“i liked you! there, you happy?”

“i like–liked you too, idiot,” you say in a low voice.

then, he laughs–a melodious sound, emitting pure joy and rainbows and sunshine. “some type of rivals we are.”

you laugh with him now, finding the situation so pathetically sad that it was almost funny. laughable. something to reminisce from time to time.

“you...you still like me?” donghyuck asks in a small voice you’ve never heard before.

“take a guess.”

“no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek, “take another guess.”

he grins at you, leaning against one of the shelves–which was a bad move on his part. he accidentally knocks over a bottle of...detergent? who knows, but it ends up uncapped and half-empty once it lands on the floor. luckily it was plastic, so the bottle doesn’t break. unluckily, the other of the liquid splashes on you, soaking your entire shirt. your plain, white, shirt.

donghyuck freezes, “um...y/n, i’m sorry–”

you hold up a hand. the god of testing people’s patience must’ve signed you up for some competitive exam today. “save it.”

donghyuck looks around hastily, trying to find a clean rag. he produces a small yellow cloth from the back of one of the shelves and hands it to you, “here.”

you don’t even say thanks. you quickly take it from him, free your shirt from your jeans, and start wiping and drying it to the best of your ability. you manage to make the shirt as dry as possible, but it was detergent that spilt on you. it was soapy–it was not water. 

you groan for the third time today and look at donghyuck, gritting your teeth. “i can’t possibly go out like this.”

he winces, feeling extremely apologetic. “take off your shirt and wear my hoodie instead. i have two layers on,” he suggests.

you give him a double-take, “what the fuck? no! why would i do that?” you exclaim.

“do you have any better ideas?”

you watch as he swiftly takes his hoodie off, revealing a loose tee clad on his body. you hate to admit how good he looks. he hands the item of clothing to you, and you tell him to turn around as you begrudgingly peel your shirt away. you take the rag once again, wiping off as much soapy liquid as you can, and pull the hoodie over your head.

it smells like him, you think. it smells like that expensive cologne he always seems to wear. you show no indication that you find his hoodie soft and comforting, and tell him you’re done. you roll the shirt, squeezing any remnants of detergent out, and stuff it in your bag.

he bites back the smile daring to form on his lips upon seeing you in his hoodie. “okay. now that that’s over, let’s try to get out of here, shall we?”

you nod. “i have our science teacher’s number. maybe i could ask her to help us? she’s always here late, marking papers and assignments.”

donghyuck snaps his fingers, “you’re right! yeah, give her a call.”

you scroll through your contacts till you find the name you’re looking for. you press the call button and set it to speaker mode so donghyuck can hear as well. she picks up after three rings, “hello?”

“hi, miss angela! it’s me, y/n. you see, um, donghyuck and i got locked in the janitor’s closet by someone, and we have no way to get out. are you still in school? if you are, is it possible for you to unlock the door from the outside?”

miss angela hums a little, as if in thought, “i just left, my dear. i could turn the car around if you’d like. i’m sure the office keeps an extra set.”

“yes! that would be great. thank you, miss angela. and we’re sorry for the inconvenience,” you nudge donghyuck with your elbow, who catches on immediately.

“yeah, we’re incredibly sorry. i’ll be sure to submit an extra report–!”

“save it, lee donghyuck. i’ll be there in five to ten minutes,” she hangs up with that.

you pocket your phone and look at donghyuck. “so.”

“so,” he repeats.

“are we going to act like we didn’t just confess to one another earlier?” you ask, biting your lip nervously.

“no, i don’t want to, um, act like we didn’t. i lied, y/n. i had a crush on you last year, yeah, but i never stopped liking you. i still like you. i don’t want to be your enemy anymore.” he nudges you. 

you smile shyly, “i like you too, donghyuck.”

just then, you hear keys jingling–an all too familiar sound. you get excited, thinking you’re going to be met with the face of miss angela, but when the door bursts open, you see the smirking faces of renjun and jeno.

“about fucking time!” renjun pulls you and donghyuck outside.

“what?” donghyuck demands. “it was your idea to lock us in there? are you fucking kidding me?”

jeno grimaces, “i’m sorry, it was the only way you two would confess your feelings for each other and stop fighting for good.”

“i can think of plenty of ways–!”

“wait, y/n, are you wearing donghyuck’s hoodie? holy fuck...don’t tell me you guys did it.” renjun looks back and forth between you and donghyuck.

“what? no, of course not!” you retort.

“then why do you have his hoodie on, dear y/n?” jeno asks.

“that’s none of your damn business, lee jeno!” donghyuck looks ready to pounce on him, but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him. his gaze drops down to your hand and it softens.

“there was a little accident...but the good thing is that we’re out. hooray. now, everybody, go home. i have to call miss an–”

“y/n, thank goodness! what happened?” miss angela emerges into the scene, looking a little worried.

you briefly explain the evening’s events to her, without mentioning the confession part. she doesn’t need to know that. you tell her it was a silly prank. nothing more, nothing less.

she visibly sighs a breath of relief. “well, at least it wasn’t some stranger. jeno, renjun, i didn’t expect this from you two. but i’m glad you’re all okay.” she takes her leave, after ensuring you four are on your way home.

jeno and renjun go home via jeno’s car, and you and donghyuck, living only a couple of blocks away from school, decide to walk the journey.

“all this... just so we could stop fighting,” donghyuck laughs. you’re walking side by side, hands occasionally brushing against one another. it’s like something out of a cheesy rom-com. you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“it worked, didn’t it?” you say.

donghyuck stops on the pavement, turning his body to face you. he stretches out a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear, making you bump his shoulder shyly. he smiles; he wouldn’t have it any other way either.

“i guess it did. but what do we do now?”

“what do you mean?” you raise an eyebrow.

“like, do i walk you home first? do i ask you on a date? god, with you, it’s just so much more...different. if it was someone else, i would’ve gone with my gut, but with you, i don’t wanna mess it up. you know?” donghyuck finally takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. you feel his warmth radiate, you feel his touch bringing you safety and comfort. something way more powerful than a hoodie.

“donghyuck, i’m new at this too. i’m just as scared as you are. and that’s okay, trust me. i’m glad it’s me and not anyone else.” you assure him.

you gather up whatever courage you have remaining, tip-toe, and brush your lips against his cheek. you stay there for a moment, just breathing him in. when you pull away, his cheeks are a dusty pink shade.

“do that again,” he tells you.

“no, i think i’m good.” you start walking again.

“y/n!” he whines.

“okay, on one condition.” he raises a brow, “ask me on a date.”

for a moment, he’s bewildered. then, he gets down on one fucking knee, not caring about anyone who might be watching, and clears his throat. “y/n, i like you so much. will you make me the happiest man alive, and go on a date with me this saturday?” he looks up at you expectantly.

you chuckle at his antics and give him a nod. “i would love to, lee donghyuck.”

he grins, all big and bright, and leaps up to envelop you in a hug. his arms go around your waist and yours circle his neck. he whispers in your hair, “i guess we owe renjun and jeno a thank you?”

“i am not going to thank them for locking us up in a closet. in fact, i’m gonna double their prom duties.” you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs at your comment.

however, you are thankful that it was lee donghyuck you got stuck with. so, forget the time machine. you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[ineloqueent]

hedgehogs & kisses

Brian May x Reader

synopsis: Brian takes you to see some of his favourite animals— hedgehogs!

warnings: this is so sugary sweet that your teeth might fall out :’)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i could not for the life of me find a gif of brian from 1974, but i love his expressions in this one, so there :)

see the moodboard here!

⭒

Spring, 1974

“Love, it’s time to get up.”

Fingers curled around your upper arm, and despite their lightness, you buried further down into your pillow, retreating.

“But ‘m so comfortable,” you mumbled, refusing to open your eyes.

Faintly, you registered the sound of Brian’s warm chuckle, and the bed sinking beneath him as he sat down.

“Do you remember what I said we’d do today?” he asked, his touch ghosting your neck as he brushed little hairs from your face.

“Something about getting up horribly early,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut to prove your point.

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes, but I’m sure you’ll agree it’s worth it.”

His fingers caressed your cheek lazily, and you sighed, turning over so that you faced him, and shuffling closer, to wrap your arms around his middle.

You felt cashmere and denim beneath your hands, and knew that he was already dressed, but you nuzzled into his side and pulled him closer.

You nearly succeeded in toppling him back into bed, but he laughed,

“No, I’m not falling for that again. Get up, love.”

You groaned and pulled your pillow over your eyes.

Brian pried the pillow gently from your fingers and set it aside. He leaned down to you, his breaths tickling your skin, and began to kiss down your temple and along your jaw. When he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, you reciprocated, bringing your arms around his neck.

But he pulled away, after nudging your nose with his.

“C’mon, beautiful.”

When you still didn’t move, he sighed.

Then he slid his hands beneath you and swept you into his arms, hoisting you up.

You gave a cry of surprise, finally opening your eyes to attempt to bat him away.

“Put me down, you fool!”

He smiled down at you, his eyes twinkling. “Absolutely not.”

“What, you gonna carry me the whole way to the woods?”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

You grumbled, “I’d have said I was looking forward to it, if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s currently four o’clock in the morning on a Saturday.”

“We can sleep in tomorrow,” said Brian, and set you down gently. “Now get dressed and we can go. It’s quite cold out, though, so I’d recommend layers.”

You folded your arms. “Thought you said you weren’t gonna put me down.”

“Well, if you don’t get dressed, I really will pick you up again and carry you the whole way to the woods.”

“Not if you can’t catch me!” you said, and hurried down the hall.

Brian called after you, “How old are you, again?”

“Younger than you!” you hollered back.

“Yeah, by a few months.”

You paused at the bathroom door, because he hadn’t followed you. “But you’re not old enough to not chase after me,” you said.

There was a silence. Then,

“Certainly not. You want to find out who can run faster?”

“What?”

Footfalls bounded down the hall and you shrieked with laughter as his arms wound around you again, and he lifted you off the ground to whirl you around.

⭒

A good half-hour later, you were dressed in five layers, because the early spring was still cold. Woolen socks warmed your feet in your faux-fur-padded boots, and a scarf stolen from Brian’s extensive collection adorned your neck. Your collar was pulled up to your chin, and you wore trousers lined with fleece.

You shivered all the same. It was still chilly outside, though the snow had finally begun to melt, and sprigs of bright green grass and bulbs in various colours had started to poke through the surface of the forest floor.

Brian’s cheeks and nose were pink, and his curls fluttered about his face as the wind blew through the trees.

It was a bit of a walk to where you were going, but you didn’t mind, because you were always happy to spend more time with Brian.

Except that it was really very cold.

You shivered again.

Brian glanced over at you, smiled, and took your hand.

“Nearly there, love.”

And as the two of you passed a particularly tall pine tree, Brian suddenly pulled you down behind a log, and shushed your askance of what he was doing.

“Look, there.” He raised his hand and, pressing close to you, pointed directly ahead, to a bush beneath which there seemed to be a hole in the ground. Upon closer scrutiny, you realised that the hole was not only a hole, but a den, inhabited by a black-nosed creature with soft hazel eyes— much like Brian’s— and a fine-tufted tail of orange dipped in snowy white.

“A fox,” you murmured, and Brian smiled.

“Foxes,” he corrected, and when you blinked at him, he nodded in the direction of the den again, and there you saw, not one, not two, but three foxes.

Two of the animals were more brown in the colour of their coats, and looked quite a bit smaller. The third fox seemed to be coercing the first two out of the den.

“Kits,” said Brian, in the soft voice he reserved for stargazing and animals, and for you, when his romanticism got the better of him. “They’re getting ready to leave the den for the first time.”

The smaller foxes still had half-closed eyes, and looked sleepy in the twilight, still rather infant-like.

“So early?”

“They’re a little late, actually. Most kits leave the den within three or four weeks after birth. But those ones must be at least six or seven weeks, with their colouring. They’re getting that red tinge to their coats, see.”

He was right; little patches of red had begun to seep into the brown, like blooming flowers, or a fire spreading.

After watching the foxes for a little while longer, Brian took your hand again.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Some owls might still be up and about.”

“Really?” you asked, as he pulled you up to stand.

He nodded. “Still a little dark out, so probably.”

Swinging your clasped hands between you, he winked, and led you up a small hill.

Letting go of your hand, he lifted both of his to his lips, and through some complicated contortion of his long fingers, made a sound that could easily have been mistaken for the hoot of an actual owl.

Then, without warning, a shadow swept over you, and instinctively, you ducked, turning just in time to see the outline of what looked to be a large barn owl.

Brian laughed, “It went straight for me! Must have mistaken my hair for a nice, cosy spot of moss for a nest, eh?”

You grinned back at him. “It was as attracted to your hair as I was.”

Brian rolled his eyes, a smile still on his lips. The two of you had a running joke that his hair was the only thing he had going for him, though, of course, that was completely false. You told him often how much you loved every part of him, body and soul, with kisses, with words, with a short gaze or a lingering touched. You loved him very dearly, you did.

The warmth in your heart seemed to have made you suddenly sleepy, because you yawned, and Brian canted his head at the sight of you.

“Oh dear,” he said, drawing close to smooth a gentle hand over your hair. “One more thing, and then we’ll get you back to bed, my love.”

You nodded, and Brian wrapped his arm around you as the two of you began to walk again.

It was nearly six in the morning, and light was dawning in the pale sky, fluffy clouds painted in pastels as the sun rose beneath them.

“Here we are,” murmured Brian, after a short walk that had taken you back down the hill and slightly north of the fox den you’d seen earlier. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen no sign of badgers, so that’ll have to wait until another time. But…”

He stooped, and pulled from his jacket pocket a small, burlap pouch. He scattered the contents on the ground beside what looked to be a burrow, then replaced the empty pouch in his pocket, and backed away from the spot, beckoning for you to follow him.

This time, your hiding place was behind a bush, and the two of you crouched quietly, the remnants of snow squeaking beneath your shoes as you settled into a comfortable position.

You waited silently for a few minutes, you yawning repeatedly but trying your best to stay awake, whilst Brian watched with rapt attention the spot he’d left the dried insects.

Then, there came a snuffling sort of sound, and a hedgehog with wide dark eyes and little feet scurried forward, examining the food which Brian had left for it.

Upon seeing the little fellow, you let out a gasp, and Brian glanced over at you, his expression pleased, his eyes alight with a peculiar sort of happiness that seemed almost to define his features more— sharpen the brightness of his irises, broaden the curve of his smile, bring more colour into his cheeks, emphasise the little freckle at the lower half of his lip.

You reached out to take his hand, and his fingers intertwined easily with yours, as you watched the first hedgehog be joined by a second, which appeared to be its mate. You were reminded of yours and Brian’s own little family.

When the hedgehogs had departed once more, some indeterminate minutes later, you were truly beginning to fall asleep.

“Oh, love,” Brian murmured, and pulled you into his arms, placing a brief kiss upon your brow. “Let’s go home.”

You nodded and let him lead you back to the house.

But really, while he was around, you’d been home all along.

[theelvenhaven]

Nightmare Come True

Part 1

Elrohir x Reader

2k words

Please read the warnings that are in all bold for heavy emphasis. This is completely different from what I usually write.

Warnings:

Blood, 

Torture, 

Gore, 

Graphic Violence,

Eventual Fluff (just not much in this one)

* * *

You began to stand as your head pounded and sucked in air haphazardly, your breath having been stolen from you when your horse bucked you off. The earth had been incredibly unforgiving in helping cushion your fall, leaves, and mud caking onto your trousers and tunic. A loud snarling cackle met your ears, prompting you to stumble forward quickly—hands reaching forward to catch yourself as you slipped forward.

You were doing your damndest to regain your balance as the adrenaline began to course through your veins. Hurrying up the trail as quickly as you could, hearing the sounds of running and heavy footsteps just in the distance behind you. Thudding loudly and leaves crunching noisily, sending panic thrumming through you as you began to run off the trail, hoping for a short cut. You didn’t need to look back to know what was after you.

An orc had been trailing behind you for the last mile when he finally spooked your horse enough to send you airborne. You finally regained better footing and began to run as hard as you could, knowing that the creature wouldn’t give up its chase. Not willing to lose such a high and pretty prize, you had heard the horrors from Elrohir… 

Heard the horrors of what happened to his mother, and Eru, you did not want the same fate to befall you. You couldn’t help but feel the tears prick your eyes as you realized that was precisely what would happen if your luck ran out. Your elven ears twitched as it’s pace quickened, inhaling sharply with terror. A vice was gripping your heart, hands shaking, and you pushed yourself. Run harder. 

It was here you felt some relief, easily speeding up and away from the foul creature. But your need to get away rapidly was your undoing as you came upon a small wall of rock and clay that was not climbable. You gasped sharply, the cold fall air stinging your already burning lungs. 

There was no way you could reach the top, being just several feet out of your reach even if you jumped! Just as you were about to turn to dart to the left, you turned to see that your would-be attacker was gaining on you. 

Another coming from the left and a third coming from the right... Two others you hadn’t even heard before. You’d been too preoccupied with just the one! The dread weighed heavy like lead in your stomach as you stared at the monsters before you, wide-eyed and shaking.

“Now we’ve got you right where we want you...” The one before you said, he was scrawny and waif-like. Wearing odd layers of ripped cloth crudely stitched together to form a “tunic” with strange flimsy metal in the shape of awkward armor. The others were better outfitted yet just as grimy and disgusting as the being before you.

The stench of rot met your nostrils, and you repressed the gag, slowly beginning to back away as they started to close in on you. Each was brandishing a long iron sword, blood, and mud-caked from previous use on another unfortunate soul. 

“We are going to have a nice time with this one.” One with a deep and gravelly voice began grinning widely, exposing his rotted and sharp teeth. You were speechless, paling at the insinuation of the torture to come, watching how another pulled a dagger from his makeshift belt. You were silent, unable to give a proper scathing retort. 

Tears began to brim and sting your eyes, your heart pounding so hard in your chest it hurt. Your terror left you paralyzed, and the orcs were quick to take advantage.

With a heavy fist, you were punched in the jaw, sending you stumbling back into the forest floor as you cried out, instinctively grabbing your jaw. Your lip splitting and blood began to pool to the surface before dribbling down your chin. Before you could recover, there came another blow, this time to your eye much harder than the last.

Immediately pain radiated from your eye and around your cheek and brow bone, throbbing hard from the brute force. It wouldn’t be long now before your eye would begin to swell, and you were easily disoriented. You couldn’t stop the tears that started to flow freely as you sobbed out in pain and horror. The sounds of their laughter met your ears as one began to crouch down before you, obviously much larger than you are… 

The horrid stench was wafting into your nostrils, you did your best to try and scoot back, but he snarled. Hand reaching out quickly to grab the collar of your tunic and yank you even closer to him, he smiled wryly when you grimaced, turning your face away from him. His breath was fanning out as he quietly looked you over. 

“Don’t waste time!” The scrawny one began hunched over the big one’s shoulder, another big orc moving to your side where your hand sat. Before he began to step on it roughly. You gasped out in pain, jolting in the hold of the other before the pressure started to increase.

“The other elves will be here soon.” It hissed out before suddenly there was a pop and crunch as your bones began to give way. Immediately you tried to snatch your hand from beneath his foot, but it only made the pain worse, and cruel laughter rang out once more.

“Use the knife… I bet you can make it scream.” The one on your hand laughed, digging his foot harder onto your hand, making you shriek out. You squirmed and whimpered, desperate to get free. 

“Please-!” You finally yelped out, finding your voice though you knew your words fell entirely on deaf ears. They could care less if you begged and pleaded for mercy. It only fueled their insatiable need to continue onwards. To find a way to abuse and ruin you, however, they can.

In an instant, you felt something swipe across your cheek. Your adrenaline was pumping, so you hadn’t even registered what had been done to you. Even as it repeatedly happened until finally, you felt the blade part your lips and a massive handhold your sore jaw in place. You began to fight, kicking and pulling away, reaching out to claw with your good hand and push it away. But they only continued in their twisted laughter. You sliced your other hand, trying to push back against the blade as it began to slice into the corner of your lip.

You whimpered out at the pain before you couldn’t resist the hysterical scream that began to escape your throat as you tried to getaway. But he only held tighter ripping further up your cheek and into the surface slices, cutting against your gums and tongue and the bitter taste of copper filled your mouth. You were met with no relief even as he withdrew the blade finally, having cut up halfway towards your ear. 

Before another word could be spoken, another note of laughter could be hacked out, suddenly a blur of brown and black tackled the orc before you. The sound of metal meeting flesh met your ears, and with wide eyes, you watched them roll away. Elrohir straddled it victorious, slamming his sword down into the creature ending it’s life before he jumped from the beast to face the next.

Finally, the orc on your hand relented, turning to face the figure before it ran to them. With ease, he dodged the first swipe of the orc’s weapon. It went careening forward on the slope, and taking advantage of this, he thrust his sword into its neck. Silver eyes were blazing with unbridled fury, and with a snarl, he ripped his blade from the orc before unsheathing a dagger.

The scrawny orc made its move to retreat, but it was far too slow as you watched Elrohir bolt across the short distance. Slamming the blade into its skull and letting it fall, not bothering to retrieve his dagger.

All you could do was sit there speechless, relieved, and horrified at the same time. Grateful that Elrohir arrived when he did, unable to tear your eyes away from his figure, he finally began to slowly approach you. 

“Y/N…” He began in a gentle but pained voice; you felt so overwhelmed with relief a choked sobbed escaped your lips at the sound of his voice. Elrohir ran the short distance falling to his knees as his hands went to your shoulders as you choked and sobbed. His hands shook against you, 

“I just want to go home…  Elrohir, I just want to go home.” You cried hysterically to him, trying not to fold in on yourself. Elrohir kept you from doing so, and taking his place beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, 

“You are safe now meleth… I promise you are safe now…We are going home.” He whispered soothingly, beginning to gently lift you from the ground keeping his own emotions reigned in, so he didn’t exacerbate your raw ones. Concern radiated through him, seeing how much blood was dripping from your face, but he only cradled you against him snugly. Despite the crippling wounds on your hands, you reached to hold onto him tight, grasping at the front of his tunic as he shushed you softly. More so for comfort than wanting you to stop, he turned around just in time to see Elladan riding up with his horse in two.

“Elorhir! You found Y/N! Have they been harmed?” Elladan asked quickly, unable to see you fully or the blood that continued to dribble down your face. Pulling his horse to a stop, but you only tucked yourself further into Elrohir. Continuing to cry between the pain that you felt, the humility of someone seeing you like this… To the utter disbelief that this had actually happened to you. Were it not for your cuts and broken hand you’d scarcely believe that it was real.

Elrohir didn’t answer Elladan, tensing his jaw at his words and only sharing a grave and intense look with his twin as he approached his horse. With care, Elrohir set you down onto your feet, helping steady you as you put your foot into a stirrup to mount. You didn’t look at Elladan as Elrohir gave you a push so you could swing your leg around. Setting you in plain view of the other twin, whose eyes were on you the moment you were in complete view.

“Did you kill them all?” Elladan asked in a furious voice and could hear him digging around in his saddlebag as Elrohir mounted behind you. His hand was wrapped around your waist to hold you against him tightly. 

“Every last one.” Elrohir practically growled out to his brother, squeezing you to be comforting before you watched as something came sailing through the air towards you both. Still jumpy from everything that happened, you flinched hard, gasping, immediately bringing up your hands to defend yourself. Elrohir quickly catching what he tossed,

“Meleth… It is only rags…” He assured you in a soft whisper, gently bringing it to the front for you to see. Elrohir spoke truthfully as solid white rags sat in his hand before you, yet he didn’t rush you. When you looked back to Elladan, you were met with a concerned expression.

“For your cuts. Let us not waste any more time and get you home.” At his urging, with your cut hand, you grabbed the rags and brought it up to your face and mouth to hold. Once more, making sure you were tightly held in his grip, neither of the twins wasted another moment. Spurring their horses to gallop back to Imladris as quickly as they could, to get you the help that you desperately needed. For Elrohir to finally have you back within the safety of the walls of home.

* * * 

tags:

@saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandom-hoe101​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​ @allinwonderlands​ @red-riding​

[shortace]

Descant Brill and the Bank Break-in

Fairies do not like the cold. Descant Brill shivered, and cursed himself for volunteering for this task. Although if he hadn’t, Opal Koboi would simply have ordered him to anyway. Or killed him. He wondered briefly if sheer terror was a sufficient substitute for the loyalty Opal demanded of him and his brother Merval. He decided it was.

On a winter night in Munich the temperature can get as low as -3 degrees centigrade. He supposed he was lucky that it was only just on zero tonight. There was a light coating of snow on the ground, which meant that he couldn’t walk - on the off chance anybody was around, footprints left by a shielded fairy would raise questions Scant would rather not have to answer. Fortunately Opal had thought to stock a secret warehouse with all manner of equipment prior to entering her cleansing coma, so tonight Scant was equipped with whisper-silent wings and a near-invisible cam-foil suit. There was no way any human would see him tonight, no matter what surveillance and security they had in place. Opal Koboi and her employees laughed in the face of bank security.

Of course, this wasn’t just any bank. This was the International Bank, renowned for having the most secure safety deposit boxes in the world. By human standards, anyway. Scant admitted to himself - and only himself - that he was a little bit apprehensive. Not scared. Just apprehensive. He glanced around nervously, half-believing that Opal could feel his tension, despite the miles of rock between them.

‘It’s a piece of cake,’ he tried to tell himself, muttering aloud. A nearby cat puffed itself up, on the defensive, at hearing the unexpected voice out of nowhere. ‘Human security. Nothing to worry about.’ The cat twitched its ears, then turned tail and ran.

He finally reached the front door of the International Bank, and hovered, shivering, for a moment to see what he was up against. A night guard sat on duty behind a desk, although his eyelids drooped with fatigue. Scant had to squint to make sure the huge keyring, including the safety deposit box master key, was on his belt. This had been a key part of the plan, and if he didn’t have the key, he would have to resort to Plan B, which he did not relish. It involved tunnel blue spiders, which turned Scant’s stomach even when it was somebody else who swallowed them.

However, as it was, the key was visible, and the tunnel blue could stay safely shut away. Glancing around to be sure nobody was watching, he briefly unshielded to use an omnitool on the locks. Of course, the guard saw him at that point, and was immediately awake and alert, striding towards the glass door with a hand on his gun.

‘Stop!’ he shouted, loud enough to be heard through the door.

Scant mimed deafness: one hand to his hear, mouthing exaggeratedly, ‘I can’t hear you.’ The omnitool beeped and the door slid silently open. Immediately Scant dropped the deaf act and looked directly into the guard’s eyes. He wore no sunglasses - being the middle of the night - and as he took a breath to shout another instruction, Scant Brill spoke, voice layered with magical mesmer: ‘You don’t need the gun,’ he crooned, ‘I’m a friend. We’re buddies. Pals. We go way back.’

The guard hesitated. ‘I don’t need the gun,’ he confirmed, ‘because we’re friends. But I still can’t let you in.’

Scant sighed, feining disappointment. ‘You can let me in,’ he said, ‘and then you can forget all about me.’

‘I can let you in,’ said the guard, apparently changing his mind. ‘And then I can forget… what am I supposed to forget?’

Scant grinned. ‘Perfect.’ He plucked the keyring from the guard’s belt, and watched as the guard blinked a few times and then went back to his post, completely ignoring the pixie standing right in the middle of the foyer.

Descant pressed the transmit button on the communicator on his throat, connecting him to Opal Koboi and his brother Merval. ‘I’m in,’ he said. ‘The guard is ignoring me, and I’ve got the key.’

‘Good,’ Opal replied. ‘Now plug in the flash drive.’

Scant tried to remember the diagrams and lessons on human computers the boss had made him examine. A USB port would be somewhere on the side of the guard’s laptop, he thought. He tried a couple of different holes, then remembered to turn the flash drive up the other way. Finally it slotted in and Opal’s program popped up on the screen. Run program, he clicked. Under his breath he sang three verses of the old Riverbend classic, Between You and a Dwarf, I’d Choose a Stinkworm Every Time, to give the virus time to infiltrate the security system. As he murmured the closing line, every creature has its purpose, and yours is to make stinkworms look good, the computer beeped and the monitors above blinked. On-screen, Scant was nowhere to be seen. The video was showing a loop recorded earlier in the night - same sleepy guard, same light snow, same everything - but no Descant Brill. Furthermore, every clock on every computer and monitor was now showing 10.34am. Business hours. The safety deposit boxes couldn’t be accessed by anybody outside of business hours. Now, they’d open like a flower. A very utilitarian flower, full of cash and stolen paintings.

One stolen painting in particular.

Once in the safety deposit box room, Scant hesitated, and swore: ‘D’arvit.’ He’d forgotten to check the computer to find out which box was Sparrow and Crane’s. Human computers confused him, with their strange letters inscribed on oddly-ordered buttons, and a mouse that didn’t even squeak. He’d been so relieved to get the flash drive in and the virus working correctly that he’d forgotten the other computer-related task.

Not to worry. He’d just open all of them. There was an emergency override button next to the master key hole for just that purpose.

He inserted the key, turned it, and smacked the button.

Immediately the small room was filled with the sounds of alarms and klaxons, as the individual security from each box’s owner was activated. Scant nearly screamed at the sudden cacophony.

‘What did you do?’ Opal shrieked into the communicator. ‘What is that? Descant Brill, what did you do?’

Scant stammered for a moment before recovering himself. ‘Not to worry, Miss Koboi,’ he said, despite being, in fact, very worried.

Three blocks from the bank, a light was flashing in a police station. The unfortunate constable on watch duty didn’t see it immediately, as she was reading a particularly good Artemis Fowl book. Reading was technically prohibited on the job, but who’d know? The only other person on duty was the guy in the canteen who made fantastic chips and horrific coffee.

‘Shut it off!’ Opal commanded, forgetting for the moment that Scant had no idea how to do so. Circuits had been broken by the opening safety deposit boxes; simply closing them again would not re-wire each alarm. However they were, gradually, one by one, going silent. None of them had been intended to last long; the aim was to cause terror in would-be thieves and attract attention from negligent bank guards.

‘It’s about twenty different alarms,’ Scant told her. ‘I think it’s just to scare thieves. I don’t think it does anything.’

‘I don’t pay you to think!’ Opal screeched.

Scant forebore to point out that he’d specifically said that he didn’t think. ‘No, Miss Koboi. Anyway, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll just boobytrap the painting, these will all shut off soon, and I’ll be gone.’

Unbeknownst to Opal and the Brills, one of the boxes had been wired to do more than just make noise. It was this which had set the light flashing at the police station.

Hands shaking slightly, and distracted by the noise, Scant finally located Herve’s painting in its tube, and carefully injected the bio-bomb’s tracking device in through the rubber seal. It was virtually microscopic, and left no visible external trace. ‘All done, Miss Koboi,’ he reported. ‘I’m out of here.’ He slammed the boxes closed hurriedly, just as the last klaxon went silent.

At the police station, the light still flashed. Finally, the officer glanced up from her book and saw it. She frowned slightly, and tapped it. It still flashed. International Bank patrons were notorious for being paranoid, and false alarms were fairly frequent, but still, better follow procedure. She grabbed her radio and asked a nearby unit to do a drive-by.

Descant Brill was already out the front door, shielded and flying, by the time it arrived. All they would find was a dopey guard and nothing whatsoever missing from the bank. Just another false alarm from another paranoid billionaire. Scant heaved a sigh of relief, and headed back for the chutes.

[jenovahh]

Wild Greens Choke Tended Gardens -  Ch. 1 - Calendula (Marigold)

“A’yana!”

Blue eyes twinkle, searching for whoever wanted their attention.

The woman they belong to turns in a rush, her plentiful skirts swaying with the movement.

A’yana Salvia smiled warmly as the Leveilleur twins ran up to her, Alisaie nearly crashing into the older woman. A’yana bubbles with laughter as she slows the girl’s momentum in her arms, encasing her in an affectionate hug. “Well, that’s quite the greeting. Are you more eager than I to be out in the field?”

At first glance, anyone would wonder whether A’yana was trying to be as provocative as possible while somehow maintaining her modesty. Her skirts reached well to the ground, covering her sandaled feet, layered with a string of potions in case of emergency along with decorative feathers and trinkets. Her top was more scandalous, nothing but strips of fabric, artfully bound together to show her cleavage while maintaining her decency.

Her skin was a deep amber, so rich and brown that she seemed to glow whenever she stepped into the sunlight. White tattoos trailed down her arms and back twirling and curving in intricate patterns. With two, large, fluffy ears poking from curly, amethyst hair, A’yana looked like any other Miqo’te, but many underestimated her power.

Stolen from her crib at birth, A’yana has only ever known the teachings of a village of women, much like her. A village of witches, masters of the arcane and magic so old and powerful that they hid themselves in the bowels of the Gridanian forest. It was these witches that had sensed A’yana was born, erasing her existence from her parents’ mind and disappearing into the night to raise her.

The tattoos on her skin had been there since her birth, heralding her as a manifestation of the trees, the leaves, of life itself. Blessed by the spirits and Hydaelyn Herself, she was both respected and feared. Respected for using her powers for good, feared for the possibility she could turn on them and no one alive could stop her.

She had been more than helpful to the cause, even if her tendency to dive into things head first without thinking had landed her in trouble more often than not. Despite that she had made more friends than enemies, and what enemies she had knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

The young Elezen finally peels off of her, giving an exasperated groan. “I cannot deny I am a tad...antsy,”

“Is that what we call it?” Alphinaud can’t help but tease, flinching slightly as Alisaie turns to shoot him a quick glare.

“Now, now, be nice you two.” A’yana giggles, rubbing her head affectionately against the top of Alisaie’s head. “Goodness. I know it will be a few years yet, but I loathe to think of a time where I cannot nuzzle the tops of your snowy heads.” With a mischievous grin of her own, A’yana gives Alisaie a light nudge. “Or when you running headlong into me won’t result in you colliding with my bosom.” she sighs dramatically, breaking out into a full laugh as both twins go red in the face for different reasons.

“We’ll see how you like being teased when I am taller than you! Shall I play with your ears?” Alisaie huffs, clearly embarrassed. It was one thing for her twin to poke fun at her, but to have the woman she had come to view as the older sister she never had never failed to leave her flustered.

“Come now, I jest.” A’yana chuckles giving one last pat on her head. “Surely you did not run because you were excited to see me. Is there news?” A’yana asks, threading her hand with Alisaie’s as they walked through Rhalgr’s Reach. She offers her hand to Alphinaud who sputters for a moment but quietly accepts it, ears reddening as she flashes him a comforting smile.

While A’yana was aware that many would say that the twins were too old for such coddling, she could not help herself. Having no real siblings of her own, A’yana doted on them constantly, always asking if they were hungry, or needed a potion of hers for even something as small as a stomach ache. There was no hiding even outside the Scions that she spoiled them, and despite their best efforts to hide it, they loved every second of her attention.

“Well, on the grounds that you’ve finished your tasks of speaking with the recruits and such for Conrad,” Alphinaud begins, giving an encouraging smile, “he is actually ready to speak with us.”

“Ah, I would hope so after all the running around we’ve had to do.” A’yana sighs, to which even Alphinaud can’t help but laugh.

“While I’m aware that speaking with the masses is not as thrilling as fighting gods, I appreciate you going along with it nonetheless.” Alphinaud thanks, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Only because I have you two kids to look out for.” A’yana snickers, giving Alphinaud’s hair a ruffle, much to his dismay, the teenager leaping away from her teasing. “I’ll meet you over at the tent. Pray tell Conrad I’ll be there shortly.” Watching him nod, her eyes follow him as he walks the path back to the tent where M’naago and Conrad await them. Turning to Alisaie, she gives her hand a squeeze. “And you?”

Shrugging, Alisaie returns her gesture. “I think I will go check up on Y’shtola and Krile, and see how they are faring. I would end up saying the wrong thing I fear if I went with my brother.” Tilting her head, Alisaie gives her a scrutinous look. “Though you seem noticeably...excited today. Is all well?”

A’yana is not surprised, given how much time she spends in the twins' presence. Of course they would pick up on even the smallest cues on her moods. “Well...I’m not particularly familiar with how Elezen find their soulmates,”

Alisaie’s eyes widen before she can even finish the sentence, mouth flying open, “You mean your soulmate is---hrrmph!” she mumbles as A’yana slaps a hand over her mouth, pulling the young girl into what looks like a friendly embrace from afar.

“Quiet!” A’yana hisses, though it lacks any real bite. Alisaie licks at her palm and A’yana takes it off reflexively, releasing Alisaie with a pout.

“Why be quiet? This should be something to celebrate!” Alisaie whispers, at least being considerate to her feelings and keeping her voice down.

“I know, I know, but we’re in the middle of a full blown war, Alisaie. I want to be able to...you know. Have a chance to be courted without fear of some primal coming down on our heads.” A’yana mumbles, somewhat bashfully. For as strong as A’yana was, she was unfortunately (at least to her) a hopeless romantic.

“Oh, you big sap.” Trust her little sister to make fun of her for it. “Well how can you tell? I heard most Miqo’te born in Ul’Dah find theirs by being able to see color when they meet. Does that mean you can’t tell Alphinaud and I dress in different colors? If we swapped clothes--”

“I can see plenty well, thank you.” A’yana grumbles, giving her a playful smack on the head. “If you don’t mind, I’ve kept your brother waiting long enough. Off you go.” A’yana shoos, complete with a limp wristed wave of her hand. Alisaie sticks her tongue out at her, and A’yana is glad to see it. They should enjoy what years of childhood they had left, even if they were teenagers.

Trekking to the tent across the way, she offers a few more cordial waves as she passes by the soldiers stationed in the reach, her tranquil aura a soothing balm to all as she passes by. As she goes to meet with the others, she can’t help but daydream what her soulmate could possibly look like.

Are they tall? Short? Would they be a refined, Ishgardian, Elezen man or a brusque, Highlander woman? Would they be a match made in heaven from the start, or would they have to learn to love each other despite their faults? Though she has waited for her soulmate like anyone else, A’yana still experienced attraction. She knew she liked women, liked men, like those who did not conform to either. She wanted to love her soulmate no matter how they presented themself, and prayed they thought the same for her.

She always imagined her soulmate would be tall, someone who would want to protect her even if she did not need it. Someone who made her feel like an average woman despite her trekking across Eorzea as the Warrior of Light. She hoped they liked her cooking. The Scions all think it’s too spicy, except for Tataru, bless her heart.

A’yana envied other races and cultures that had more certain ways of knowing for sure when or where they’d meet their soulmate. Finding your soulmate varied from methods as vague as sharing your soulmate’s hair color, to as specific as having a specially crafted chronometer that would countdown to the time you would meet.

A’yana got stuck with the vague end of the spectrum, only able to sense when her soulmate drew near.

She had thought it wanderlust at first; a desire to leave her village behind once she had hit the appropriate age to do so. It was to her surprise that she would be discovered to be the Warrior of Light, beginning her trek across Eorzea to save it from certain doom. She had gravitated to Gridania immediately, feeling a strange tingling in her chest that would always call her back.

It is only after they crossed Baelsar’s wall had she realized that was no normal feeling.

She kept it to herself for a while, but with each passing day as she worked to bolster the Ala Mhigan resistance with Raubahn and Pipin, she could feel her soulmate drawing closer. She knew they were close, just not how close. Oh, how the wait was killing her.

One look at Y’shtola and Krile tells A’yana that as usual, Alisaie can’t keep her mouth shut. The two give her knowing, but hopeful looks. Alphinaud asks ever so politely on whether she is willing to try and storm the Castellum with Pipin, because she’s already done so much for the cause and he’d rather not presume. Ruffling his hair again, A’yana laughs that while she appreciates it, he needn’t ask. If there is a just cause to fight for, she will be there.

While this cause is just as bloody as the Dragonsong War so far, A’yana feels no less afraid to see it through. She does not enjoy killing, abhors it really, and will do what she can to spare a life, even those of an enemy unless they force her hand. Thankfully with her powers, restraining the enemy is not hard work, allowing for the capture of soldiers with minimal bloodshed.

It is better than sitting around running her apothecary, waiting for customers to stop by.

Fighting primals is much more exciting.

There are no eikons to slay yet though, Gyr Abania proving strangely tame compared to the struggles she endured during her time in Coerthas fighting the Heavensward led by Thordan. Where there was once the threat of dragons around every corner, able to fly and raze her to the ground if she let them, the only risk so far is an imperial ambush, which when next to her, was hardly a threat at all.

A’yana knew she was powerful and she tried to not let it get to her head.

Tried.

The trek back to Castrum Oriens is quiet and peaceful, the imperials most likely quaking in their boots from their last defeat by her hand. To the average person she appeared to be no more than a healer, thinking her an easy target as she balanced her astrolabe above her palm. And with skirts restricting her movement, many would think she would be incapable of hand to hand combat.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t dodge, though.

Bolstered by her own abilities, her offensive spells even as she healed were more than enough to weaken an enemy and render them unable to even lift a blade against her. And even if someone did manage to get close enough, she had worked hard to master the art of dodging a sword while in her skirts, having a few scars from some close calls.

A’yana makes conversation with M’naago until they reach the Castrum, where Raubahn and Pipin each give her a friendly welcome before getting down to business. A’yana’s attention drifts in and out of the conversation, ears flicking to and fro the only indication whether she’s actively listening or not. Thankfully M’naago is the only other Miqo’te present to recognize the behavior for what it is, and seems confident in her abilities to not comment on it. One doesn’t necessarily need the full scope of the plan when your friends usually chuck you at a primal.

Besides, she can’t help it; she feels her soulmate drifting ever closer. Could they be an Ala Mhigan? She’s never felt the buzz so strongly before, even when she had first noticed the feeling when she became an adult. If her soul mate was Ala Mhigan, she would’ve felt them this close years ago...right?

“You seem on edge.” Alisaie comments again, as they prepare to meet Pipin outside Castellum Velodnya. “Is your soulmate getting closer?”

Unable to hide her grin, A’yana nods, not wanting to burst with excitement when such a serious mission looms ahead. If scoping out the Castellum went well, perhaps she could spend the night searching for her soulmate. Surely if they are this close, they must be searching for her too? “Right now, I just wanna focus on our mission,” A’yana sighs, flexing her fingers anxiously. “I have yet to consult the stars about tonight...I’ve never consulted them about my soulmate actually. I’ve always wanted it to be a surprise.”

Alisaie gives her a teasing look at that. “Who would’ve thought the Warrior of Light would be such a huge romantic?” She sighs, complete with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“Oh, be quiet you.” A’yana laughs, giving Alisaie a scathing look. “Don’t think I’ve not noticed you fiddling with that locket you think you keep tucked away. I believe Sharlayans often find their soulmates by a personal trinket that glows when their soulmate is near, right?”

A’yana can’t help but laugh louder as Alisaie turns as red as her gear, going on about how A’yana must’ve been spying on her. It takes Alphinaud calming both of them down (but not without getting in a few jokes of his own) to say they’re ready to head toward the Castellum.

Making sure her cards are ready and her astrolabe functional, A’yana begins to ease into her more serious persona. A’yana didn’t want to put up false pretenses when it came to her role as the Warrior of Light, but found that people took her seriously the sterner she looked. Around the Scions she didn’t mind joking and laughing, showing a side that precious few got to see. But when it came time to do battle, you would think she had not smiled in days.

With her feline hearing and the twins own sensitivity to sound due to their Elezen heritage combined, it’s nigh impossible for anyone to sneak up on them. A’yana follows close behind Pipin and the twins, careful to make sure her skirts don’t get snagged in the brush as they make their way through the forest and out to the more desert-like terrain. A’yana can’t help but be a little nervous as they creep closer to the cliffs’ edge, taking extra steps so that tripping on her skirts doesn’t spell in a long fall into the chasm below.

Winds tickle her skin, the buzzing in her chest almost turning into a light hum. It makes it hard to focus.

“...is exactly as expected. I will notify father.” Pipin’s voice drifts into her ears.

Alphinaud puts a hand on her arm, eyes silently asking if she’s all right. Thankful for his concern, A’yana nods, doing her best to push the humming feeling to the back of her mind. Whenever she did meet her soulmate, she was going to tell them they had awful timing.

“...fire! Where did it come from?” Pipin whispers harshly, turning this way and that. Panicked and feeling stupid for not paying attention, A’yana jumps to her feet, scanning the area for cannonfire she didn’t even hear. The humming is hard to push from her mind.

“Is that---” Alisaie’s voice drifts in and out as A’yana finally manages to turn to where Alisaie is facing. “Oh gods, it’s Rhalgr’s Reach!”

Doing her damndest to focus, A’yana gathers up her skirts and begins to move, before either of the twins or Pipin can say anything. “A’yana, it’s no use-- I think someone’s jamming our communications!” Alphinaud yells. Thankfully the pair are used to A’yana’s tendency to run head first into danger without thinking, quick on her heels.

“You don’t think...could this be part of a coordinated attack?” Alisaie ponders, the two of them heading North so they can cross the river and make it back as fast as possible.

Having caught up, Pipin chimes in, “It’s too early to draw conclusions. We must abort the assault and return to the Reach at once!”

Not that that wasn’t her plan anyway, A’yana trudges through the river, silently cursing that she is at such a disadvantage. Her abilities relied so strongly on a presence of plant life; and in the arid climate that Gyr Abania had, she immediately felt the loss. Whatever it was waiting for her at the Reach, they better hope--

The humming--

It almost feels like a full blown thrumming now.

She’s getting closer to Rhalgr’s which means…

Which means...!

“We have to hurry!” She cries, ignoring the discomfort of soggy sandals and damp skirts as she pulls herself from the river, continuing her run to Rhalgr’s Reach.

My soulmate...are they there? Are they hurt? She wonders, trying her best to not despair, but she can’t help but worry. Not when with every step she takes the thrumming gets more insistent until it is all she can feel, her very being feeling as if it knows her soulmate is near. She can hear the twins hurried breaths behind her, her feline eyes easily pick up on a few approaching forms in the distance.

“Krile!” A’yana calls, willing her feet to move faster. The Lalafellin woman’s eyes are downcast, only glancing up at the sound of her name being called. Her grim look only pushes A’yana forward, not even stopping to talk and hear what she has to say.

“Alisaie! Go after A’yana!” She hears Alphinaud call, as he and Pipin stay behind for a moment to talk to Krile. Alisaie is hot on her tail without even needing to be told, keeping stride with the older woman as they prepare to throw themselves into the fray.

“We have to save as many as possible!” Alisaie calls, drawing her rapier, having it at the ready. “Heal who you can. I will watch your back until the others arrive!”

Proud of her sister for thinking so fast on her feet, for knowing what she wants without even having to voice it, A’yana pulls her astrolabe from her back, the cards fanning around the globe in a flourish. Imperials meet them at the gate, A’yana able to feel the stars giving her strength as she pulls a Lady of Crowns from her globe. Channeling the energy to Alisaie, she watches as the young woman’s eyes light up, letting loose her battle cry as she takes the imperials on.

She fights off one imperial, making quick work of them and gets to calling upon her magic to cast a quick healing spell on a nearby recruit. Thankful that they’ve only sustained flesh wounds that won’t drain their life force, A’yana begins to put more of her focus into getting them a bit healthier. Only a few minutes pass before she can hear Krile and the others catch up. “Go on ahead!” Krile demands, already heading for the next of the wounded. “They need your help!”

Nodding, A’yana once again balances her astrolabe in her hand, having palmed a few cards to keep at the ready as she takes stock of who will be moving with her. Her heart is pounding; her soulmate is close, and she prays that because she still feels this thrumming, it also means they’re still alive.

“Y’shtola!” Alphinaud cries, seeing the Miqo’te woman on the ground. A’yana’s own heart stops as she spies Lyse tied up on the ground next to the unconscious woman.

“Not so fast!”

A’yana barely dodges a swipe of a blade, her skirts dancing around her as she quickly casts a Malefic at the offending enemy. More of the Skulls begin to surround her, snickering to themselves, thinking they have her cornered. Though there may be little plant life around, she knows she won’t even have to waste a fraction of her energy taking down a few mercenaries. A’yana’s eyes narrow as a young woman, hardly older than nineteen summers comes to the front, smirking as if victory is assured.

“Well, well. A rescue party, is it?” The woman grins, twirling her blade. “We’ll see about that!”

At the first step she makes A’yana easily dodges her, balancing her astrolabe in one hand while taking hold of her skirts in the other. Her pupils dilate, letting in more light on this already dark and tragic night. She dodges another swipe and hears the woman growl in frustration, making another blind charge at her. A’yana evades her once again, losing herself to the pull of combat, the humming of her soulmate’s proximity forgotten as she manages to put enough distance between her and the newcomer to cast a Malefic that sends her stumbling.

“Gah! Who in the seven hells are you?!” She snarls, her grip on her sword tightening.

“I would ask the same of you, but I remember you now...Fordola rem Lupis.” A’yana murmurs, twirling her astrolabe in hand. She’s fully dipped into the role of the Warrior now, eyes hard as steel, unforgiving in their gaze as she stares down the cause of this tragedy. “I unfortunately lack the means to restrain you properly...which prompts me to request you stand down. I rather there be no more bloodshed, even from the enemy.”

A’yana keeps her focus on Fordola, ensuring she makes no sudden movements as Alphinaud takes out one of the soldiers. “Alphinaud! I need your help!” Krile beckons, falling to her knees as she sets about healing Y’shtola and the other fallen soldiers.

Fordola makes to move toward them but A’yana is faster, casting a Malefic with just enough power to weaken her further and deter her from any foolish moves. Fordola grits her teeth, eyes burning hotly as she stares her down. “My lord, the prisoners!” She calls.

My lord? A’yana wonders, until she hears the shift of heavy armor, and the awareness of the humming returns tenfold.

“See to your men, Pilus.”

Fordola draws her sword, turning to the sound, giving the Garlean salute to whoever comes this way. Following her gaze, A’yana takes one look.

And she knows.

The armor is obviously fitting of not just a high ranking officer, but royalty. She can see strands of golden, blond hair trail from beneath the monsterish helm. She had heard stories and rumors, intel about the Garlean prince, but nothing could have prepared her for how intense his presence was--

Or the fact that he was her soulmate.

It can’t be, A’yana trembles, even as her soul sings at being so close to her soulmate. She can feel all the signs of love she had envied for so long. Her knees are weak, her heart’s beating out of time. She only has eyes for the twisted creature before her, the Prince of Garleans…

Zenos yae Galvus.

“Uh-- as you command, my lord.” Fordola stutters, rounding up what remaining soldiers she has and retreating as ordered.

A’yana is stock still even as Pipin comes up beside her, her throat locked up. She wants to say so much, but her mouth will not open. Her tongue is dry.

It can’t be.

Zenos turns to her, mood indiscernible from beneath his helm. One arm rests upon the odd sheathe that is fastened to his hip, carrying a familiar sort of confidence she recognizes in herself. A surety in your power.

The knowledge of your greatness.

“Your friends were a disappointment. But you…” The prince drawls, tilting his head slightly. “You will entertain me, will you not?”

A’yana can’t even swallow as he moves to face her, drawing a sword from his revolver.

It can’t be.

Alisaie brings up the rear at last as A’yana’s instinct is screaming at her to run away. To tell her friends to run for cover while she holds him off. But it is too late. The stage is already set.

“If we kill him, here and now, we can end this!” Alisaie roars, already launching herself at Zenos.

“As one!” Pipin cries, joining Alisaie in her attack.

“Wait-- no!” A’yana yells, finally finding her voice. Habit finally kicks in, fear an undercurrent to her movements as she begins to draw cards, ready to aid her friends where possible. He’s...powerful. I’ve never felt such strength…!

A’yana watches panicked as Zenos fights them off, expending little effort. It almost feels like looking in a mirror, watching the ease at which he dispatches her friends.

Is this what she looked like to everyone else?

“I have no need for this rabble.” Zenos sighs, unleashing an attack that sends the two flying.

“Alisaie! Pipin!” A’yana calls, having barely withstood the attack herself. Was that...magic? The prince is a full blooded Garlean-- how? Quickly glancing, she hears Pipin mumble something over the roaring in her ears as Alisaie lets loose a slew of curses, allowing her to take a breather. They’re both alive, thank the Twelve.

“Hm. You yet stand.” Zenos hums, once again drawing A’yana’s attention as well as her ire. At least now with her friends out of the fight she has to worry about no one save herself. “Mayhap you have potential.”

“Oh, I have more than potential,” A’yana hisses, beginning to draw cards. She can hear him chuckle, even from under the helm, illusionary swords appearing around her. Growling, she makes quick work of dodging their blasts while keeping her eyes focused on him.

Her soulmate.

Her eyes burn with unshed tears at how unfair this was.

For every blast she dodges, he’s quick on his feet, chasing her, hunting her, leaving her little room to even begin to cast. She’s unaccustomed to being on the run and she feels like he can sense it, can see how wide her eyes are from being on the losing side for once. She can hear the smirk from under his helm. “Better. Yet lacking nevertheless…”

Incensed, A’yana dodges his swords once again, edging herself near the water. It will take a good chunk of her energy, but if it means wiping that smirk off his face even if she can’t see it, she’ll do what it takes.

She watches him still for but a moment as her tattoos faintly glow, the water gurgling behind her. Balancing her astrolabe, she casts a Malefic with the intention of distracting him, grinning as he moves to dodge her magic. “I’ve got you!” she roars, veins shooting from the depths of the small river, launching themselves directly at Zenos.

He easily slashes at one set, but was clearly not expecting another set of vines to come up behind him, latching onto his sword arm. Regaining her confidence, A’yana cinches the vines as tight as she can around his wrist, frowning as the pressure does nothing to his armor. As a prince it would make sense he is only afforded the highest quality metal available.

Changing tactics she tries to wrench his hand behind him, but he’s far too strong for her vines to pull without snapping. She could strengthen them with magic, but she’s already using so much already since she is not touching any plants physically and relying on her own energy. She doesn’t want to use her reserves; what if she needs to make a run for it?

Would her own soulmate kill her?

Could he not tell they were soulmates?

Was she broken?

Her choice is taken away from her as Zenos gives a decisive slice of his blade through the vines, humming to himself. “An ability to control plant matter...though not without great cost to yourself.” While his tone hints that he’s somewhat intrigued, it still maintains a bit of boredom. “Come then.”

Before she can react he dashes for her, blade drawn. A’yana winces as she’s barely able to dodge in time, crying out at her blade cuts a decent gash in her side. Down, but not out, A’yana taps into her reserves by clasping his sword, using a burst of magic to snap the blade in half. As he withdraws, she falls to the ground, whimpering as she casts a small healing spell to at least stop the bleeding.

She feels him gaze down at her, feels his disdain and disappointment. Her heart still burns at his closeness, even as he draws another sword from his revolver. She glares up at him then, resolve burning bright in her eyes, even as she kneels before him. Instinct claws its way up to where she bares her fangs, her eyes become slits, and somehow that gives him pause.

All is silent save for the rolling of thunder.

“Pathetic.” He sighs, sheathing his sword once again and stalking away. A’yana watches him go, watches Fordola and her men follow behind him.

“A’yana!” Alisaie is at her side in an instant, trying to put on her best brave face. “We need to get you seen to,”

“I’m fine, Alisaie, I’ve slowed the bleeding.” Normally she’d have more than enough energy to stop it entirely. But not this time.

Not after being defeated so wholly.

A’yana was no prodigy; she had to work to her level of skill like anyone else. She was only bolstered by the fact she was a wellspring of power, and had a natural aptitude for magic and the arcane. She had long faded scars to show she trained like anyone else.

Only now, had her luck run out.

She was used to coasting on her talent, her hard work. That wasn't to say any of her battles up until this point had been easy, oh no-- taking down Nidhogg had been an arduous battle from start to finish. Even with van Baelsar she had been younger, greener, mostly sailing by on sheer adrenaline and pure luck. Overwhelming her enemies with how much raw, untamed power she held.

And now...she feels embarrassed. The infallible, unshakable Warrior of Light…

Thrown around like a doll by the prince of Garleans.

Even still, nothing made her more ashamed than the fact that he was her soulmate.

She couldn’t understand it. Comprehend it. She couldn’t deny she felt a little impatient. Not all races met their soulmates when they were young, but it was not unheard of for some soulmates to find one another even before their teenage years. She could not help the doubts that plagued her that by nearly twenty-five summers, she hadn’t felt as much of a tug. Something had to be wrong with her.

It is why she could not contain her excitement when after so long, she felt something.

It is why her heart is so heavy as Alphinaud and Krile rush over to her to help heal her enough to move.

Raubahn arrives soon after, devastated as he looks upon the Reach. He scoops her up effortlessly, balancing her in one arm as he rushes her to the infirmary, only adding to her shame.

“You’ve done well.” Raubahn assures her, hushed words only for the two of them to hear. Even though it is only for her ears, she can’t help but beat herself up for failing everyone so horribly.

She can’t tell anyone.

What would the others think of her, knowing that when they needed her most, she couldn’t fight her soulmate? That her soulmate was the very person they are aiming to defeat?

Even as she lies in bed and the chirugeons tend to her, Krile and Alphinaud having exhausted their energy just to save Y’shtola, she stares the ceiling and wonders--

What will she do?

She can’t kill her soulmate.

She already abhorred the thought of killing, but she could sense he was not a man who would allow himself to be captured. He would accept nothing less than total defeat.

Night falls over the Reach and she lies wide awake, thoughts bouncing off the walls like a child who has had too much toffee. She is restless at the same time she is tired, wanting action, wanting to do anything, wanting to prove herself--

“...Yana?”

A’yana gasps, heart nearly leaping up her throat as Alisaie’s head peeks through the privacy curtain around her bed. “Alisaie. I’m sorry. I was...lost in thought.” She moves to sit up but her gash is still healing. She’s yet to recover the strength needed to heal her wounds further, and her strongest potions were given to help Y’shtola and many others instead.

“You’re not overthinking your battle are you?” Alisaie questions, quietly reaching for a small stool to sit at her side. A’yana guiltily looks away, prompting the young girl to frown. “Yana,” Alisaie begins and A’yana can’t help but sigh. Alisaie only dropped her prefix when she was ready to chew her out.

“At least think about it from my perspective, Alisaie,” A’yana breathes, unable to even roll over and face her. “I’ve...never experienced a defeat such as that. In a way I suppose I am humbled, but I...I was also scared.”

They are both silent, Alisaie seeming to mull over her words. “Your soulmate…” Alisaie begins, causing A’yana to tense immediately. Thankfully it is still too dark to catch such minute movements. “Were they...did you sense them? Was it distracting you? They’re not…”

“No, they’re not dead.” A’yana cuts off, slinging an arm over her eyes, not wanting to show Alisaie her tears. She had to be strong for her. She had to be unshakable, an inspiration--

“Then where are they?” Alisaie presses, unable to see how A’yana’s fist clenches, how as much as she doesn’t want to, tears fall from her tired eyes.

“They’re not here. They left.” She lies. “I’m guessing they saw the explosions, heard the cannon fire from Rhalgr’s. And...I suppose that they don’t have a way to sense I’m near.” A’yana curses as she begins to sniffle, as sobs begin to wrack her body. She would never show this chip in her armor to anyone else.

“Yana…” Alisaie murmurs, reaching to hug her as best as she can with A’yana still lying down. The Miqo’te takes it, needing the comfort. She’s not surprised that Alisaie lets her think that she’s this immovable force, that she is not without flaws and fears. She knew Alisaie did not think any less of her for having weak points like anyone else.

But in her mind, nothing could make up for the fact that her soulmate was the enemy they were trying to defeat, and she just may not have the power to stop him.

[petri808]

Written for the @bnhanipponzine​ Izuocha NSFW fic we’re allowed to share now.

Forbidden romance...

Their signals are as fleeting as a summer's breeze and no more inconspicuous than a proper greeting. The slow blink of an eye in passing… Tonight, the message conveys, she’ll be alone tonight. The young lovers are ensnared in a forbidden romance from which neither could bring themselves to leave out of love for one another. Such is their world, unfortunately, even now in the twenty-third year of the progressive Meiji era. Both are born into the Yakuza life and forced to follow its rules and traditions. But those human edicts could not control their hearts.

Late that evening, at the soft sliding sound of the shoji door opening and closing, the corners of Uraraka’s lips turn upward. She dares not look up just yet for fear it was the wrong person entering her room. But, soon enough the secret Sakura scent used by her and her lover flows into her personal space.

“Izuku…” she whispers without turning around, safe in the knowledge he’s come.

“Ochako.”

Even the iinazuke didn’t use her first name yet; but coming from the lips of her lover, it’s smooth tone sends shivers rippling along her spine. Midoriya’s voice is soft while her betrotheds is gruff and grating to her gentle sensibilities. She hears the sounds of fabric rustling, his clothing being shed, then the light clatter of his saya against the tatami mats.

All the fine hairs tingle along her skin, almost reaching out to the man’s energy the closer he gets. She feels his body heat through the thick silk of her kimono, even as her own flushes in response. He doesn’t need to touch her to cause such a reaction. Just his proximity is enough to ignite her loins.

She’d already removed the obi before he arrived, allowing the silken fabric to open in front. He slowly slips the kimono off her body, allowing it to pool around her hips for the time being. Next, he unravels the datejime sash and places it to the side. All that is left between them is the white nagajuban undercoat. But Midoriya is in no rush. These shared moments are few and far between, so he needs to take full advantage to satisfy them both properly.

He noses his way over the nape of her neck, peppering feathered, drawn out kisses along the skin from one side to the other. Uraraka sighs with each tender touch that leaves torrid trails in its wake, and her head moves accordingly, giving the man full access to anywhere his kisses wish to travel. His hand snakes up from her shoulder, and fingers grip her chin, angling it upwards. Forceful, yet with a gentle control she is happy to acquiesce to. If only she can give herself fully to him forever.

As his lips tease around the base of her neck and face, Midoriya slips his other hand under the fold of the undercoat until it reaches bare skin. She gasps, biting down on her lip to stifle a louder groan when she feels his hand mold around her breast and roll the pert nipple it finds between his fingers. Uraraka dares not to make a sound louder than a whisper for fear of them being caught in this tryst. But oh, what she wouldn’t give to call out his name! To show just how much she loved this man who her father feels isn’t good enough for her.

Midoriya is careful not to place pressured kisses regardless if the area is hidden beneath layers of fabric at any given time. As the daughter of the Oyabun leader, Uraraka has attendants that see to all of her needs, including bathing, and they have no idea who they can trust to keep this kind of a secret. Most would turn them in for fear of punishment, and besides, he doesn’t want to jeopardize his father’s standing as the Saiko-Komon. That position as the head advisor to the Oyabun provides a comfortable life for their family.

He slips the coat down her arms, then moves the pile of fabric, tossing it to the side. With her skin bared, he presses his chest against her back and circles his arms around her torso. His hands caress and sooth her voluptuous breasts, so flushed and sensitive to every movement he makes, massaging the mounds and teasing the nipples. Her sighs and breathy mewls burn holes in his psyche, hypnotizing and courting his lips to continue trailing along her skin from shoulder to shoulder.

“Face me,” Midoriya whispers behind her ear as his tongue gingerly runs along its shell. Uraraka shudders when he nibbles the lobe.

She turns around on her shins; her eyes swept downward in embarrassment. This is not their first time and she loves these trysts; it is but a testament to her shy disposition. Her cheeks burn bright, and her hands stay poised in her lap. Midoriya chuckles, smiles; it is this very innocence that had stolen his heart. He lifts her chin, sweeping in to covet her full pink lips as he guides her onto her back. Uraraka would never know by his decisive actions that he is just as anxious as she is.  

“I got a hold of that spermicide we bring in for the courtesans.” It is a new German product recently put on the market, and thanks to their contacts, are able to sneak it into the country. “It’s a suppository you place inside.”

“Do you think it really works?”

“It has been so far, but I could use the turtle skin sheath instead if that would make you feel more comfortable.” He’d already prepared the clove oil just in case.

Uraraka squirms a bit in debate, then nods. An unexpected pregnancy could mean certain death for them both over this forbidden affair.  

He reaches over and pulls out a small purse from his haori. This was the surest method and least cumbersome, aside from abstaining. As he fixes the protective skin over his erection and lubricates it, Midoriya can see Uraraka gazing at him over her breasts. He blushes lightly, still unused to such a coital stare and refocuses on his task.

Realizing he’d noticed her watching him, she averts her eyes as well. A mixture of embarrassment and excitement causes a wave of heat to flood over her. Her hands unconsciously snakes over her chest, covering them as if to hide the feelings of abashment. The man she loves is well endowed, and she still remembers thinking during their first time, how would it fit? Her blush deepens at the memory. Of how gentle he had been with her and she could only pray the iinazuke would be the same.

All prepared now, Midoriya lies down on top of Uraraka with his legs resting between her thighs. Just the pressure of his dick against her sensitive core triggers more shivers along her frame, but he isn’t there yet. He sweeps his lips over hers, then covets them in full, molding them together in languid motions. Their kisses grow like a dance, ebbing and flowing in coordinated steps.

She gasps lightly as he sucks down and teases her bottom lip, but it’s quickly swallowed up and tamed by his tongue pushing its way into her mouth. Without the ability to make a sound, her body responds with a language of its own. It molds against his in its bid to chase the heat it is exuding, communicating her desire for closeness. He pushes forward with his tongue, she pushes back, their mouths a heated battleground fighting for dominance. Uraraka is the daughter of power after all, and he made her feel more alive than she has ever felt in her life.

Leaving the supple flesh of her mouth, Midoriya moves on—lower, his kisses blazing a trail as if hiking Mount Fuji. His hands massage and squeeze at her breasts, helping to control and keep them where he wants them to be. From one to the other, he suckles at the tender skin and pressures his tongue over the nipples. He pulls them in through his lips, nipping them, teasing them harshly. Uraraka bites down on her palm to stifle her moans. The rougher treatment felt so wonderful! It is one of the only spots that wouldn’t show any bruising and she appreciates his care.

Much of her skin is now covered with tattoos just like any other Yakuza member. Some designs by choice, and some forced upon her. Her back, shoulders, part of her arms and thighs are already sleeved. But her chest is devoid of ink until you reach the torso area, where spreads the one tattoo she hated despite its beautiful design. Twin dragons hugged opposite sides of her hips and wrapped from back to front; one a deep auburn red and the other a golden yellow, protecting a Shiroibara in full bloom that encompassed the area just below her navel. She is the white rose, and the dragons represent her family and her betrothed’s arrangement. But she matches none of the flower’s symbolism, not anymore since starting this tryst with Midoriya.

It brings a sense of shame and guilt every time she looks at herself in a mirror, yet not enough to make her stop engaging in the affair. Her heart wouldn’t allow her to give up the one man she’s loved since they were children. And once she found out he’d felt the same all along, they chose to risk it all. She has plans to work in a Kuroyuri bloom with green pistils over her heart once she could get her chest piece completed. A hidden symbol of their devotion.  

He knows how much she despises the tattoo. Through the light whines and shortening of her breathing. How her body flinches the closer his lips make their way to the area. He doesn’t like it either, for it is a reminder she’ll never be his. That he would spend the rest of his life standing at the side of her husband—his best friend of all people—while coveting the man’s wife. But he also knows the hothead didn’t love her like he did, and he is determined to make sure at least one of them took care of her heart.

“I’ve told you,” his voice hushed between the kisses he places upon the flower image, “ignore the dragons, but you’ll always be my white rose…” more kisses, “my sweet, innocent flower.”

“I know…” she breathes out, “but still…”

Midoriya looks up, bracing himself on his elbows. “But nothing.” He takes her hand and kisses the fingers. “Our hearts are devoted to one another, that counts for something.” Then he gently sucks the pointer finger into his mouth and twirls his tongue around the digit. “Does it not?”

“Yes,” her voice mewls.

“Just focus on us right now.” He kisses the tips of the fingers. “Okay?”

Uraraka nods and instantly sucks in a breath when he dives right back into his oral ministrations. She bites down on her bottom lip as his mouth clamps down on her clit and begins to suck on the button like a piece of hard candy, licking and rolling it with his tongue. His hands grip to her thighs to hold her down as she starts to squirm, alternating between her clit and labia to catch the excess juices seeping through. Each time his tongue runs through the folds, her muffled moans seize up in her throat, but when it slips over the entrance, she squeaks from the titillating sensation. She finally grabs a small pillow, holds it against her face, and bites into the fabric.

Flashes of light, like twinkling stars in the night sky behind her eyelids explode when she feels him slip a finger into her pussy. One, then two they’re thrust inside, the palm of his hand hitting against her swollen and heated folds engorged with blood. The stimulation is exacting a heavy toll on her with each insertion, each strike, and curl of his fingers pressing against a sensitive point inside her. Coupled with his lips suckling on her clit, she wouldn’t last very long this way. Already the heat burning inside of her core is reaching a boiling point, like a metal rod ready to crack under the pressure.

“Izu...” is all she musters before sucking in and puckering her lips to stifle the building scream. Her body reels and spasms through the orgasmic waves, thighs clamping against the sides of his head as she rides the high. He grins with pride, satisfied to have brought her over the edge once more.

He sits back on his haunches, licking the remnants of sticky sap from his lips, and savoring Ochako’s sweet essence. The woman’s been eating plum cakes, he muses. Her flushed skin and heated stare makes his dick twitch. Heavens above, this woman is beautiful.

It is her turn to make a move as she coyly rises up and clambers onto his lap.

“Chako?”

“Shh,” she purrs and guides him in until Izuku’s dick is nestled within the walls of her heated antechamber. She feels his fingers clench on her hips, and his breathing slows at the pressure. It feels so good to be filled, completed by the only man both her body and soul thrives for.

She kisses his lips softly while weaving her fingers over his neck and twining them into his hair. With her legs wrapped around his body, her hips start to rock in languid yet forceful motions, his own hands now cupped to her ass, guiding alongside her movements. The room fills with the gentle slapping sounds of skin on skin friction, wet and scented musk filling the air around them. Silenced moans on both sides, swallowed up in their kisses. Up and down Ochako uses the strength of her thighs, riding the length of the shaft and stopping at the head before driving down again.

Izuku’s hips can no longer stay stagnant. They counter her thrusts, his thighs acting as pistons and his hands pushing her down to force a deeper penetration. She whines in frustration, knowing if she lets him fully throttle her there’d be no way to control her screams. And oh, how she wants that! All the gossip by servants, to be fucked until they couldn’t walk anymore made her jealous! Her hands grip into his hair as the knot in her belly tightens for the second time that evening.

“I—Izu...” he covers her mouth with his to catch her moans. They couldn’t risk getting caught. So close... so close. Without stopping the kiss, he moves her in one swift motion onto her back, continuing the onslaught of thrusts. She keeps her hands wrapped around his neck and head to keep a pressure on their kiss, as her legs hook onto the back of his thighs. His hands move to her pelvic points, pushing downward as he thrusts upward, grinding their bodies together.

The pressure around his dick is becoming overwhelming. Fuck, he is so close. All the rubbing is creating so much heat and friction, and he feels Uraraka come undone. Her legs clench and stiffen, back arching, twisting with muffled screams that break the silence of the room. Shit! Hopefully no one heard it! His eyes screw shut as the first wave hits him, the vision behind his eyelids exploding white for a second. He thrusts with each pulse from his dick. Three, four, his entire body shudders and goes limp at the final release.

They stay there wrapped in each other’s arms for several blissful moments while their breathing returns to normal. When the feeling in his limbs return, Izuku raises his torso, and braces on his elbows to cradle Ochako’s face. He places a soft kiss to the corners of her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she breathes out.

Oh, how he wishes they could stay like that. To keep her in his arms and wake up to her beautiful face in the morning. But it cannot be. Izuku sighs and kisses her again before pulling out. He hands her the moist towel she’d prepared earlier to clean up while he bundles up the used prophylactic for disposal.

After helping her to dress and donning his clothing too, Izuku moves to the rear sliding door that leads to her private garden. They stand there for a moment in an embrace, relishing the time they’d had together and savoring its fuel until the next time. He kisses her forehead and bids her goodnight, quickly sliding the door closed behind him.

“Had your fun?” The familiar voice sends a cold chill right through his soul.

He slowly turns to his best friend, eyes wide with fear for getting busted. If this meant death, so be it. “Katsuki, I can explain.”

“Save it. I don’t really care if you’re fucking her. She was my father’s choice not mine.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ll make you a deal, and if you agree I won’t turn you in.”

Izuku’s eyebrows raise. “Go on.”

“You marry Utsushimi and let me have my way with her.”

“Oh, I get it. I know she’s the one you wanted in the first place.”

“Exactly. Eventually when I take over this family it won’t make a damn difference anyways, but until then, we’ll fucking both get what we want.”

He takes one last glance towards the closed door before turning back to his friend. “You got a deal, Katsuki.”

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt21:Ice Breaker?

[Part 20 here! <-]

Snow, as far as the eye can see. Summer has had enough of snow. A terrible thing considering her move sets and living situation. The frozen rain gently fell down into a meadow of pure white, blanketing any beautiful flowers that could be right below the surface. Her body fell flat, landing stomach down. Cold, but not too cold; the usual case for her mind every time she ended up here. Why was she here? Her heater was definitely on before she laid down. Wool socks kept her toes nice and toasty, and windows were shut tight. She had triple checked. Perhaps this was an actual dream this time instead of an unpleasant visit from the worst guest ever. Summer didn’t want to deal with Shiva. She didn’t want to do anything really. Her body felt...tired. Eyelids were heavy and energy was spent. What was this?

The crunch of snow being crushed broke the silence of the meadow and obstructed Summer’s already limited view. Her head lifted up to see the last person she wanted to. Now she really hoped this wasn’t a dream. It would be dreadful for Shiva to take those away from her too.

The problematic entity laid down on her side. Her hand reached out to brush away a few strands of Summer’s hair to get a better look. “Tired?” Shiva asked, rubbing the girl’s cheek. “I’d be too, faking joy in my life. How long do you think you’ll last? You feel it right, time slipping past you? Days, hours, minutes, seconds; how much more time can you spend failing at everything? Aren’t you tired of it all?”

Summer didn’t respond. Summer couldn’t respond. All she could do was stare into Shiva’s alluring gaze and weep, motionless.

“Awww poor thing.” Shiva rolled Summer over on her back, then straddled her. Her left hand kept rubbing Summer’s pale cheek. Shiva looked down at the girl with a smile that while small, was still oozing with a smug attitude despite her calm voice. “Just close your eyes and surrender to me. What else can you do? You can’t beat me, out think me, or do anything that matters when it counts the most. Do you enjoy it, burdening everyone? How much longer will you hold Nick back?”

Summer’s lip began to quiver. The warmth of her tears was the only source of heat filling her. They began to run faster and faster down the side of her face, only to meet Shiva’s gentle hands rubbing them away. Those same hands drifted lower down and stopped on Summer’s eck. Shiva never squeezed or even entertained. Her demeanor felt almost infant like, the way she tilted her head as she examined everything Summer did. Or...what she didn’t do.

Above, the ice ceiling began melting away again, the meadow fading into dust along the way. Shiva was the last thing Summer saw before everything became an empty space of black. Then, she woke. Dried tear marks were strong on her face and something pinned her right hand from trying to rub them off. Summer looked at her bedside and was taken back by the sight of her brother sleeping with his head laying on the mattress and hand holding her own. “Nick?” Summer said softly, pulling her hand free gently. Nick had always been a light sleeper. Summer had barely done anything and yet Nick woke up.

The boy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey sis. Did you sleep okay? You kept crying and trembling.”

“I was?” Summer rubbed her neck and rubbed her tear tracks away. “Sorry. I...guess I had a nightmare.” The sun barely hit her curtains so it must still be pretty early. “Were you here all night? Nick, you’re sick.”

“It’s not like you can catch a cold, miss immunity.”

Summer pouted. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re not gonna get better sleeping on the ground. Worry about yourself first for once?” She said, dry and tired. Summer laid back down and faced away from her brother. She heard him stand up but didn’t hear him walk away. Her mattress sank down seconds later and his hand took hers again.

“Are you...mad at me? You were pretty upset a couple days ago about the Paladin match, and Valerie sure had some choice things to say to me. I know I can be…overbearing at times. I get that you probably want space, but can you at least tell me if there’s anything I did specifically.”

His voice sounded hurt and tired as well. Summer didn’t know Valerie and Nick were on shaking ground. Is that why Nick didn’t tell her he was sick? Summer turned around. “I’m not mad at you. Things have been really low lately is all. I’m sorry if it felt like I’ve directed any of it at you. Things should get better after the tournament. Veronica will probably leave, I’ll have nothing but school lined up, and Oscar will hopefully be back by then. Not the biggest fan of virtual sessions.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Listen if you want more free time then I won’t make you-”

“Performing at the tournament is just fine.” Summer smiled. “Like I would miss a chance to stun a crowd, all of Remnant in fact. Besides, I made an Acr promise to an orphan, remember? I couldn’t back out if I wanted to.”

“Yeah...that would be pretty bad:” Nick cringed at the thought of an entire orphanage being sad and lied to. That’s guilt that would follow someone forever. “Got any plans today? It might do us some good to practice at least once together before the tournament. Not that we really need it.”

“Please, if it isn’t our dual summoning then we’re set. We can’t do that today though. Veronica and I are...umm…” Summer wanted to tell Nick about their argument yesterday which led to Veronica all but forcing her to agree to a fight today and the use of stolen diamond dust, but it wouldn’t make much sense to. Endangering him with her risks was the main reason things escalated. “We’re...going around town and the woods to get things for my outfit.”

“The woods?”

“Yeah she wants to see me fight grimm and we’re gonna look for pure dust and stuff. So don’t worry if you get one of your little twin chills or whatever you call it.”

“I don’t call it anything. Twin chill is nice though. Well be careful. Expect a call if I feel it. Better safe than sorry. It would suck for me to be grabbing school papers while Shiva is rampaging through the woods.” Nick was getting a little stressed thinking about it. One minute he’s stapling papers then sees a massive glacier outside the school window. Not to discredit his sister, but that’s the kind of luck Nick typically had. Things go fine, and then they don’t.

“School papers?” Summer questioned. “Nick it’s not a school day.

“I know. I’m gonna stop by there this afternoon and get the work I missed.” A look of disbelief and judgement shot him right in his heart from Summer. “What!? Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean the homework disappeared. I’m simply going to get it and come back home to rest. Summer’s look did not waver. Nick turned a little red for the nonverbal call out. He stood up. “Leave me alone! I’m going back to bed and then I will do exactly as I said I would do.”

“You’re full of shit…” Summer said while doing a fake cough.

“Night, you little diva.” Nick walked out her room and grabbed the door to shut it.

Summer reached out for a second. “Wait a second.” She said, her voice more reserved. “Nick, y...you love me right? Like, spending time with me?”

Nicholas looked at his sister with a raised brow. “Of course I love you. You’re my baby sister. Not that you being that means I have to hang around you or anything. Why, someone dumb tell you otherwise?”

Summer couldn’t help but smile. “No, hearing you actually say it is just nice. Rest well.” Nick smiled back then closed the door. The smile Summer wore tried its best to stay, but left as quick as it came. Her swarming thoughts made her head feel heavy and cluttered until Summer found herself resting it in her hands as she attempted to rest a little more. Sleep never came back for her unfortunately, no matter how many minutes passed her by.

It felt like no time at all before Summer was out of her bed and getting dressed for the day. She decided to keep her hair down for now and was more concerned about if she was gonna be warm enough. Her standard black thermal leggings and old white over coat should do the trick, but Summer felt compelled to put her ear muffs around her neck and wear warmer socks with her already poofy white winter boots. Snow gloves were put in her coat for safe keeping. Testing diamond dust without Nick was more stressful than she thought it would be. At least the layers of close gave her a good excuse whenever she’d start sweating.

The fated knock on the door finally came and took ten years off of Summer’s life. “Y-Yes?” The door creaked open before being fully swung open with Veronica on the other side. An exceptionally beautiful soft brushed purple winter coat that had a belt around the waist and big black buttons to bundle the whole thing up. Her color of choice was complemented with grayish-white jeans that looked roomie; a weird choice for the girl. Then there were her gym shoes school? Her entire bottom half was casual in contrast from the coat.

Summer got a bit worried. Veronica dresses herself with purpose. Her wardrobe doesn’t sacrifice functionality for flare, yet is stylish nonetheless. This one felt disjointed however. “Ummm what’s with the shoes and jeans? I would’ve thought you’d look a little more...stunning?” Said Summer, choosing her words carefully. She must’ve succeeded because Veronica gave a rude look and nothing else. It was easy to tell that she was still tired from the way she rubbed her eyes. “Didn’t sleep well either?”

“I’m sore and the time difference hasn’t gone away yet. As for my clothes, why would I wear my good clothes when I’m going to the woods and things can get physical? I’d wear a different coat if I had one.” Veronica pulled out a scrunchy and put her lion’s mane of a hair into a ponytail tail.

The sleeves of the coat fell down and Summer became a little more anxious to see Ember Cilca on Veronica’s wrists.“ Oh right, of course she’ll dress comfy in a fight. And use a strong weapon. Why not use her own? Is punching me that exciting?” Her eyes looked down and noticed a small duffel bag outside the door. “What is she gonna do to me!?” Summer ‘casually’ walked over to her sword and put it on her hip. It made her feel a little safer. Then she grabbed a hidden vial of diamond dust. Safety was right back out the window.

“You’re only bringing the one?”

“If this goes terribly then I don’t need Shiva getting a double dose. One is more than enough.” Summer held it out. “Here. It’s probably better you have it for now.”

“On that, we can agree on.” Veronica took the vial and grabbed and used her tail to grab her bag. “Let’s get this over with already…” she stormed off immediately.

Summer thought it best to follow Veronica’s lead. The girl was clearly in a bad mood. “Dying in the woods by a girl crushing on my brother. Yeah, that’s on par with the rest of my life.”

xxxx

With two of noisiest people out of the house, it was pretty easy to tell something was amiss for Weiss. It’s almost eight in the morning and the sound of guitar or vocals hadn’t rattled her morning coffee. Yeah they had a sound room, but that never stopped Summer from playing a rift on the way to it. “It’s quiet, too quiet.” She took a sip from her mug then went to the garden. “Maybe Summer is training? Veronica could probably hear through the sound room.”

The closer Weiss got to the garden, the easier it was to hear that someone actually was there. Yang. She was upside doing push-ups in just a tank top and yellow pajama pants.

“Forty five...forty six...forty seven…forty- oh hey Weiss.”

“Hehehe, how are you not freezing? It’s barely warmed up yet.”

“Since when have I ever been bothered by a little cold air?” Yang let her balance slip to land right side up. “I’m hot every day all day.” She flipped her hair for dramatic effect.”

“Well Mrs. Hot stuff, have you seen Summer? Despite her reluctance to go to school, the girl is an early riser. Especially on the weekends. Is- hey, you got a little…” Weiss pointed on a few bruises on Yang’s right shoulder.

“Oh this? Veronica wanted to spar yesterday. Her mood wasn’t exactly friendly.” Yang sighed. Her body flopped on the soft grass near the tear area. “That girl, it feels like all we do these days is spar rather than trying to talk.”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from.” Weiss said with the most sarcastic tone in the world. “I guess I’m in no position to make fun. Summer is hard to communicate with too. Teenagers man.”

“Tell me about it! Were we this bad?”

“Yeah.” Weiss nodded, remembering everything and cringing. “Yeah… gods, we were a lot to deal with.”

“You maybe. I was pretty-”

“Hard headed and passionate? Uncompromising on everything? Loud as hell?”

Yang sat up. “Okay already! Point taken hehe. Oh if you’re looking for Summer, she’s out in town with Veronica.”

That wasn’t an answer Weiss thought she’d hear. “For what? Those two can’t breathe in front of each other without wanting to fight.”

“Well they don’t have a choice if Veronica wants to make a perfect outfit for her. Walking, running, sitting, posture, Veronica likes seeing all of that in order to make a quality design. Kid has a real gift.” Yang crossed her arms. “Too bad people don’t give her the time of day.”

“Oh. So the situation hasn’t gotten any better for her?” Weiss asked.

Yang shrugged. She began pacing around in circles. “Besides what happened here, there hasn’t been a school fight in a while or calls home. Grades are average but that’s to be expected. No drugs either, thankfully. Pretty sure that was a one off thing. Still, Veronica is clearly unhappy and not even Blake gets much out of here these days. We’d take her therapy but she’ll run off or flat out won’t go.” Yang let out another huge sigh, slouching over. “I’m worried. I just want her talking to somebody that will listen and care.

Weiss could relate to that. “Well, at least Nick chips away at that armor of hers.”

“True. That boy is magic. I don’t wanna have him doing it all by himself though. I’m positive he has his fair share of problems too. How is he?”

“All work and no play recently. You saw how sick he was yesterday right? If I could just take a little bit of his drive and replace it with Summer’s reasoning….”

“Ruuuuude! I’m reasonable!” Shouted the boy from the balcony. “Some would say I’m actually quite flexible.

Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Those people don’t live with you! How are you feeling? Still have a fever?”

“A little one, but I think I’m alright. Well enough to go get my assignments from school? Please?” He said, giving puppy eyes that made Yang laugh and Weiss facepalm.

“Hahaha. Nick, I wish my horses worked half as hard as you do, but I think you might be giving your mother gray hair.”

“Oh he knows! I tell him all the time that one day he’ll notice my hair is gonna go from white, to silver over night because of him and his sister.”

He smiled. “And you’ll look just as beautiful.”

“Nice try, Jaune jr. Fine, you can get your work. However, you’re not walking. I’ll drive you there later and just like with training I’m gonna time you. I swear I don’t know where you get this drive from. Even I know when to take a break.”

“Not at his age.” Yang shot back. “Jaune and Ruby mellowed you out. Nick, your mother didn’t know what to do with herself sometimes. Especially when nobody was around. I’ve walked in on her reading a cookbook, in Menageran! I live there now and I barely know one dialect!”

“Blake didn’t teach them all?

“No point. There’s tons of different languages. Just ask Veronica. She knows two fluently and will gladly show it off. Did you by any chance hear the part of the conversation where your mother and I talked about her? If so, can you not mention it?”

“No worries, didn’t hear anything besides you wanting her to open up more. I don’t think you gotta worry about that too much.” Nick spoke with confidence, hitting his chest. “Veronica might not know it yet but I’m positive Eliza enjoys her company; and I’m trying my best to get Veronica to talk to Summer semi-friendly.”

Weiss was skeptical. “You’ve tried that before. Got a master plan you haven’t shared?”

He shook his head proudly. “Not at all! Hahaha!” Nick looked to the sky. Gentle snowflake flowed through a slow air current like a frozen river. “All I have is hope.”

xxxx

“This is utterly hopeless.” Was the only thing Veronica can say in despair as dozens of people stood in multiple lines to board airships. “Why is everyone up so early!? It’s been half an hour and we haven’t budged. The week day isn’t like this.”

“Of course it isn’t. People work.” Summer looked around to see familiar citizens going on and off ships with luggage; as well as complete strangers who haven’t adjusted to the cold of Atlas. “Many important people have already started showing up in advance for the tournament. They may not help like you will but coming so soon is a great excuse to explore the kingdom and gain influence. They might even drop by the schools and try recruiting if they can get away with it. Almanac is a place where-”

“I know, I know. It’s where society collides. It’s built down on Mantle as a way to expose youths like yourself to how the less fortunate live and inspire you to make the city better. Conversely, all the trips and equipment allows the kids in Mantle to have quality equipment and see Atlas up close; giving them a goal to work towards.”

“It also exposes the older people here to the citizens of Mantle. Creating situations where interactions between the two isn’t rare changes some people’s perspective, or at least makes them think twice about deciding on some affirmative action that hurts the people below. It’s a little harder to disregard the common man whenever their kids are friends with them and you know some.”

“Not really. They think twice because it isn’t smart to angry people who can get to your front door with ease.”

Summer felt her entire vibe get a little bleeker. “Way to make it pessimistic.”

“Hard not to be with a line like this!” Veronica shouted too loudly, drawing a few eyes their way. Not that she cared. “Ugh, isn’t there another means of getting down? Can’t you flex your last name and skip?”

“Weren’t you listening? A lot of high profile people are here. If I throw titles around then so will they. Then you have a bunch of rich people being snobby and being put into a bad light. That includes your family.” Summer witnessed Veronica’s agitated state get a little more restless. It was very strange. This wasn’t the “people agitate me” kind of mood Veronica showed off. No, she seemed torn up. Against her better judgment, Summer took the girl's hand in concern. “Hey are okay? You’re acting weird.”

Veronica looked at the girl's big blue eyes. It was scary how pretty those eyes were. Arc blue had its own appeal that was different then Nick’s chilling Schnee eyes. Veronica looked at her hand and pulled it away. “I’m just a little hungry and you know, lady stuff.” She lied about the second part. “Also don’t touch me without asking. You know I don’t let anybody touch me without asking.”

“Yeah between that and your semblance I can’t imagine you being much of a hugger.” Summer laughed nervously, wondering why she said that of all things. This line has single handedly forced the longest interactions they’ve had without a fight in an extremely long time. Summer was waiting for Veronica to decide on fighting here instead. They were running out of banter! “So umm...wanna eat and pray the line gets shorter when we get back?”

“Will it?” Veronica deadpanned. The lack of eye contact told her all she needed to know. This line was only gonna get worse. “Ugh. Fuck it, new plan. I’m not waiting any longer to get a ride.”

“I told you, using your title is a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to, genius. Follow me.” Veronica ditched the line and started heading back more towards the outer rim of Atlas, right where buildings and watch posts were stationed. “Let’s play a game.”

“That’s never a good sentence.” Summer instinctively moved a little slower. She was not about to get sucker punched. “What kind of game?” She was already regretting asking. It was gonna be crazy.

Veronica finally stopped moving and turned around. “A race to Mantle. The fun way.” She pointed to the edge.

Summer looked out and saw the chains extend down. One of them had a good enough angle to point them in the direction where the woods are. Right at the edge of the old slums in fact. “You’re nuts…”

“Don’t play that card!” Veronica pointed at her. “I know all about you snowboarding on these things!”

Boom! Caught red handed. No way Summer could deny that. “I promised Winter I wouldn’t needlessly endanger myself.” That was a solid excuse.

“Aren’t we literally going to the woods to mess with dangerous dust you stole?” And that was a solid answer. “You’re not gonna talk me out of this. I debate and public speak on national levels. You have a school club.”

“I’m not even in the debate club.”

“Exactly. Now stop arguing. We’re wasting time.”

As usual, Summer could only fall into whatever crazy thing would happen next. But she wasn’t giving up that easily. Veronica wouldn’t dare be too rude in public. “What’s stopping me from walking away right now? I could get on an airship and make it to the forest before you get down the chains.”

An amused chuckle came from Veronica. “Hehehe, it’s funny how wrong you are sometimes. I said race to Mantle, and I never said I was gonna use the chains.” Before Summer had a chance to even think about what she just said, Veronica fell through the ground.

It was so sudden that Summer was thankful she didn’t blink. “Veronica!?” She gasped. Now there wasn't a choice at all! “That’s so...I can’t believe..aaah! Why is she like this!?” Summer shouted to nobody. Her feet raced to the edge, then jumped. The rush of cold early morning air was more than enough for her to create a snowboard of ice that planted her right on the chains. “Can’t things be normal for once?” A path of glyphs shot down the chain. The use of her semblance with the little control over diamond dust she had made for a potent combination. Summer was blazing down the chain! The links between each one were terrifying though. A late hop could shatter the board and send her flying. “Don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up, and juuuump!” Little hops was all it took for her to soar down wards for seconds before landing. “Doing a trick or two would be pretty amazing if this wasn’t so dangerous and a race.” Summer looked around the air. “Where is she anyways?” Her gaze finally spotted the girl. Veronica was actually beneath her. The girl’s back faced the ground while her hands rested in her pockets, eyes closed blissfully. “Veronica?” Summer said. She got noanswer. Veronica continued to fall effortlessly. As if she was unconscious. Summer shouted again. “Veronica! You alright over there?” Still no answer. Now Summer was worried. “HEY!? VEE VEE!”

Not even her despised nickname gave Veronica a reaction. Summer could feel her heart start to race. “She can’t actually be unconscious right!?” Reasoning with herself wasn’t working. If by some chance Veronica was knocked out...Summer didn’t want to think about it. There was no time to think. Without another second to waste, Summer jumped off the chain and began falling towards her long term acquaintance. She brandished Myrtenaster and angled three glyphs to bounce off of to reach Veronica. Summer extended her hand in fear of the girl’s safety. “Veronica!!!!”

“Huh?” Veronica opened her eyes to see a blur of white and blue hurling towards her. “What in the-” She wasn’t the only one surprised. Summer’s eyes bugged out. The girl was completely caught off guard, crashing into Veronica and sending them spiraling through the air. Fortunately, Veronica was quick to grab Summer by the sleeve and pull her into a tight embrace for the girl’s own safety. “Summer!? What the hell!? Why did you jump!?”

“Why were your eyes closed!?!?! I thought you had passed out or something. I was screaming your name!!” Summer yelled with tears in her eyes from the fear.

“Summer I can’t hear shit when wind is roaring through my ears! I was relaxing!”

“RELAXING!? YOU ARE FREE FALLING!!!!” Summer screamed. No doubt Veronica heard that.

“IT IS A LONG FALL, SUMMER! IT IS LITERAL HANG TIME!” Veronica yelled back. She finally noticed the tears coming from Summer. At first she thought it was because of the wind but they kept coming. “Are you crying right now!?”

“YES, DUMBASS! I THOUGHT YOU WERE FALLING TO YOUR DEATH!!!”

Veronica’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment. She had no response for that. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect Summer, anyone, to freak out over something like that. It was a little haunting. If she didn’t feel like a jerk before, Veronica definitely was feeling that way now, just a little. She looked over her shoulder to see Mantle buildings and ground coming in hot. Her arms fastened tightly around Summer’s upper and lower back. “Wrap your arms and legs around me, tightly!”

Summer did as she was told and felt Veronica’s hand press against the back of her head. What should’ve been several seconds before a splat became extended free falling. Summer went from seeing the sky, buildings, the pavement, and then minerals. Crushed sediments and pavement that were firmly placed within the dirt. Summer was experiencing seeing underground for the first time. “Woah…. you can do this all the time!? You see €€this all the time!? How deep are we?

“You are quite literally being impressed by things you can see with a shovel. Now flex your stomach and try not to get the wind knocked out of you.”

Once again, Summer listened and gave a pat on the back for confirmation. A weird feeling ran over her body. As if going down an elevator, then €€boom! That feeling became ten times worse. It was like a rollercoaster on the highest drop. But instead of going down, their bodies were being forced up. The world of minerals was left behind for streets once again. Their momentum kept going up until they came to a midair stop. Summer instinctively made a platform at their feet before they fell again.

Veronica finally let go and pulled Summer off of her body. “Well that’s one way to stop. I’ll admit, clever thinking.”

“What was your plan?”

“I would five back into the ground and back up. Each time would get less air then the last before eventually I would be like several inches from the ground, or I’d land on a roof on the way down. Simple stuff.” Veronica brushed off her outfit in an attempt to get the wrinkles out. The puffy eyes looked from Summer made her let out an auditable little laugh in disbelief. “Tsk, I cannot believe you actually cried.” She teased.

Summer squinted at Veronica before folding both arms and turning her head away dramatically. “I don’t see what’s so funny. Not in the slightest.”

“That’s because you have no sense of humor.”

“What’s humorous about a death like that? It’s terrible.”

Veronica shrugged casually. “Eh, there’s worse ways to go. But ummm thanks for checking, and stuff…” Veronica jumped off the glyph and onto a roof before Summer got any mushy ideas from a thank you. “The race is null in void. Move your butt. We have ground together since we made an emergency landing.”

“We’re skipping the fact you just showed me a little gratitude?” Summer teased. She couldn’t help it. The glare shot at her for it though reminded Summer that teasing a person she had to fight soon wasn’t a great plan. Unlike Valerie, Summer wasn’t gonna get any buffs or debuffs from it. “Hehehe….I’ll start moving my butt.”

“A wise decision.”

xxxx

“Alright, we’re here.” Weiss said, parking her car into the mostly empty school parking lot. “Nick, you have fifteen minutes to get what you need. Anymore and I’m coming in to drag you out myself.”

He laughed. “Can you at least send the gigas in? If you’re gonna be extra then go all the way.” He hopped out the car and ran inside.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Weiss shouted. She was not above embarrassing him like that. Not in the slightest.

Nick jogged his way down the halls. Benefit of the weekend, no crowded halls. Just him, the occasional faculty, and the sports team. Basketball, soccer, the usual suspects. However, the sight of favorite blue haired girl in an Atlesian military uniform and the kingdom’s flag had caught his attention. Seeing Eliza with her twin tails undone and in one regular ponytail was always so shocking to him. “Yo, Eliza!” He waved.

She looked at him briefly before doing a double take. “Nick? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed resting?”

If he had a nickel…. Nick walked up to her in disbelief. “Is everyone my mom today?” He joked. “I am fine. Just grabbing my assignments. Anyways, color guard practice today? Cool. Didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one doing double duty for the tournament; though I guess I’m technically doing triple.” The weight of that hit him a little. How’d he manage that!?

“Yeah, just for the opening ceremony. I’m the lead when it comes to the flags so hehe, all eyes on me.” It was hard not to hide her nerves about the whole thing. “In terms of weight, it’s not too different from my spear. The routine is almost solid.”

Nick could tell she said that more for her benefit than his. It was funny. Eliza wasn’t one to waver most of the time. Then again, this was her first time doing this and second time competing in this tournament. “Hey, you survived cameras on you before. You fought me last year without choking.”

“Yeah, and lost miserably.” Eliza would never forget that day. “Thanks for the reminder.” She said sarcastically.

“Shut up, you got third on your first major tournament. You couldn’t ask for a better debut against veterans like myself and Val. Oh, thanks for sticking around Vee by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. I did it more for me than you anyways.”

“Ouch. You’re so cruel to your work husband.”

Eliza’s face turned a little red. She pointed her finger at him and sparked it with magical electricity. “Never say that again.”

“Hahaha! I’m just teasing. I still appreciate the help. Anyways, I gotta go get my stuff and bail before my mom makes due on a not so empty threat. Bye!” He ran off past her towards his classrooms.”

“Council room” Eliza said, making Nick stop halfway down the hall. “All your work...I put it in the council room for you.” Even from a distance she could see Nick’s eyes light up. Did it really not take much to make this boy happy?

“Awww Eliza-” she pointed at him again with Fire this time. Nick thought it best to quit while he was ahead and continued walking. Although, he made a little mental note for later. “Hmmm, I wonder if Eliza would be good at candle training. Fire is fire after all. Magic or dust wise.” Nick continued pondering the idea. Magic has always been cool to Nick. The fact he actually knew a person could do it was especially cool. If he could trade being the heir for being the first person with magic in centuries, he might not think twice about it. Nick couldn’t help but fantasize about a life with lower expectations and no heavy title. “Vee is right. I should really talk to my uncle about this. Well, after the tournament, or maybe do it beforehand then soften the blow by winning gold? That would be good.” He turned a corner, failing to check for on comers. “Look at me, talking as if I don’t have to face-” Nick ran head onto Valerie hard and stumbled back.

His friend dropped a bunch of hockey sticks. Some of which hammering her toes. “Ow!” She screamed, her team hearing from several feet away. “Hey watch where you’re- Nick?”

“Hey Val…” He said nasally. The impact had him rubbing his nose gently as it turned red. “Tackling you must be a nightmare. You're like a wall of tanks.” His strange analogy was ignored entirely. He looked up at Valerie and saw nothing but shock and irritation as she pulled him close, real close.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I’m the one who told you to get rest? I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to be bed ridden.”

“I uhh well you see…” Focusing was hard enough from the crash. The literal inch between them made Nick feel unprepared. Though her face was upset, he still found beauty in it. Especially with the hint of care he saw her turquoise eyes. “You said you wanted space. So I thought I wouldn’t bother you.” He finally said, hesitantly. Valerie didn’t seem too happy with his response.

“Idiot.” Valerie said, “If it’s about your health then blow up my phone for all care!” She huffed. Valerie’s cheeks turned a little red. “Are we clear?” Nick didn’t respond back. His eyes avoided her gaze and he seemed uncomfortable. “Nick? You alright?”

He looked towards her, a little nervous. “Can I make it up to you? Since you were worried and all?”

“What are you-”

“Not as a date if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Nick reassured, “Clearly I upset you so let me fix it by taking you to your favorite dine in restaurant? These last couple days I…missed you okay?” He could feel his face turning red. Platonic or not, this sounded like a confession. And yet Valerie hadn’t let go of him yet. It might’ve been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn she had gotten redder.

Valerie could feel herself being apart mentally. Nick wasn’t one to lie, but enduring was what he did best. How often did he think about her while he was sick? Did she make his fever worse? Was not telling him more painful for him than it was her? Valerie didn’t know. Making sense of any of it wasn’t important. “Nick I-” her voice was cut off by the murmurs of the halls. Athletes and onlookers passed by with their whispers and giggles. They had once again made a spectacle out of nothing. Another thing for idiots to gossip about and spread their lies. Valerie couldn’t stand it. Her blood began to boil. It never failed. Nick had made life, her life, a little more about him and less about her. Valerie finally let go of him, pushing him away. “No, sorry.” She said, clearly irritated. “I still want my space; and we both know how you are. Date or not, you just can’t help yourself but pull out the red carpet act like if I need you when I don’t. It’s pretty…” Nick didn’t let her finish. He turned his back to her. It was only then Valerie realized just how much she was mouthing off. “Wait that came out wrong.” She double backed, “I…”

“You don’t get to do that.” Nick finally bit back, “Telling me I should’ve called and that you care, only to push me away at your convenience. Now you’re berating me? What is with you lately!?” His voice echoed through the hall. It was only then he paid attention to his peers who quickly moved along the moment he tried meeting their gaze. Suddenly, something clicked. “Are you...embarrassed by me?” He said, mid revelation.

“You’re causing a scene, Nick.” She muffled, unusually reserved. “Listen, I just think the tournament takes priority is all.” Valerie lies, unknowingly letting her pride get the better of her. “I’m not embarrassed by you, honest.”

“So why do you brush me off every time people are around huh? I’m not a mind reader. Just come out with it.” He got no answer. Just silence while Valerie’s eyes looked for people who might still be watching. Now he was really annoyed, and he wasn’t even sure if it was because of Valerie or himself for getting worked up in the first place. “You know what? Forget it. Have it your way. I’m too ill to argue.” He said dismissively. Nick walked away from the argument to get what he came for. He was on a time limit anyway.

Valerie watched her friend turn the corner, hurt by her words. Or maybe the lack of them. Valerie turned around to go back to practice and stopped after only one step, stunned by the sight of her mother carrying extra sports gear.

Nora let out an exhausted sigh then smiled, “Oh boy. Here I thought your biggest worry today would be run down knee pads.” She laughed awkwardly at her own ice breaker. “Wanna talk about it later.”

Valerie got closer. She took the gear from her mother and went towards the gym. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Nora let Valerie get away. There will be time for questions later. Nora put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Teenagers.”

xxxx

Neither twin was having the best mood right now. Summer could feel her heart beating out of her chest the deeper into the woods she went. Ever since the free fall, Veronica had gone silent. Any attempt at conversion was ignored. She just kept walking deeper and deeper until everything started to look the same to Summer. Thankfully no grimm had appeared, but if they kept walking aimlessly like this… “I think this far enough, Veronica.” Summer said. Veronica actually listened and stopped before turning around.

“Yeah, this’ll do nicely.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the diamond dust while dropping her bag. “I say it’s about time we get this over with. Catch.” She tossed the vial of dust, underhanded.

Summer nearly panicked as she caught it midair. “What are you-don’t do that! This stuff is dangerous!” If her nerves weren’t shot before, they were now.

“The dangerous part is yet to come.” Veronica engaged Ember Celica and brought her fists up. She would’ve liked to remove the jacket, but a piece of her mind told her it was far wiser to keep the extra layer of warmth and protection. “Well?”

“Yeah, what are you waiting for?”Said the alluring lethal voice inside of Summer’s head, sending chills up her spine. This wasn’t the cold’s doing. No, this was fear. Pure unkempt adrenaline that made her stomach twisted into knots and body shiver. “She’s asking for it, so let her have it. Better her than fear sweet Nicholas, right?”

Summer couldn’t stop shaking in place. This wasn't the plan. Not like this so much could go wrong. Was she really to fight Shiva again? Did Veronica stand a chance? Just how much stronger would Shiva’s grip be by doing this. If they failed, if she wasn’t strong enough then…that might be it. This wasn’t just her own life at stake either. Summer already thought Veronica might’ve died today. If it was by her own hands…

Bile threatened to come up and out of throat. Summer couldn’t even see straight anymore. The trees spun around her and her balance felt off. The whole world seemed to crush her under her own weight and tears-

“Lesson learned.” Called out Veronica, bringing reality back to Summer. She hadn’t realized it through her panic attack, but Veronica had gotten remarkably close to her, looking right into her soul and placing a hand to rub Summer’s pale cheek. Summer was so overwhelmed she began stammering. “W-What a...are y-you-”

“This terrifying fear that’s crippling you; the absolute anxiety of knowing how potentially dangerous it would be to pull a stunt like this? Maybe remember it the next time you wanna drag Nick into one of your reckless training, kay?” Veronica took the Diamond Dust away from Summer and returned it to her pocket. “Okay, now for the real reason we’re here. We need things for your outfit and so on.”

Summer watched Veronica nonchalantly lift her bag and walk off again. She couldn’t be it. This entire was a set up. A guilt trip into thinking more about Nick’s safety, and it worked. The humiliation of it all. What’s worse was Summer felt...like she deserved it? Did Nick ever feel this, this fear? How many times did she want to train her control and he went along with it? Why did he go along with it!? Her body felt weak, exhausted. Summer stumbled back against a tree, sliding down until she sat in the snow on the verge of breaking down. “Stop.” She said, weak and afraid. “I need a minute, so please stop.”

Veronica looked back to see the state Summer was in. No longer was she fighting back tears. Summer openly wept as she hugged her knees tightly to try and stop the shaking. She wasn’t the only one feeling guilty.

“Damnit Veronica! I didn’t think it would scare her this bad or make her cry!”Veronica walked back to the fragile girl and sat next to her quietly. This was a complete disaster. Emotional vulnerability was never a thing Veronica was good at doing or dealing with. She took a chance and used her tail to wipe Summer’s wet face, gaining her attention. “I ummm, wasn’t trying to...a panic attack was not in my plans. You looked a little frantic at first but then you spiraled in the blink of an eye. I’m…” Veronica looked away, her ears folded in shame. “I fucked up. My bad. Nick told me to take it easy on you and here I am being worse than usual.”

Summer sniffled. She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to being comforted. Especially by Veronica of all people. Still, it felt nice. Different from others. That’s for sure. “I’m sorry.”

That was out of left field. “What?” Said Veronica, turning back around. “Umm I don’t think you know how apologies work. I mean I barely do, but this isn’t right.”

“I said some things I didn’t mean about you yesterday. I was angry at myself and directed it to you. I may not know what bothers you but I know you probably have shit in your life going on too.”

“Yeah well...we’re famous. Problems come with the territory, and puberty.”

“Eh, can’t relate. High regen and pain tolerance. I don’t get cramps, or get sick. The only upside to getting blasted with dust no scientist can identify.”

“I probably shouldn’t envy you but maaaan, little jealous. Not gonna lie.”

The girls shared a small chuckle for what it was worth. Summer sniffled again and rubbed her eyes. “Ya know, we don’t really...talk, do we? Not since we were five. I’m sure there’s a lot of things we could learn.”

Veronica couldn’t suppress her unwilling groan. Bonding was not on her agenda. However, Veronica couldn’t help but think about Nick’s words and her promise to him. “Let’s make a truce? We have to spend time together. There’s no getting around it.”

“I’m painfully aware…” Summer moaned. “What’s the truce?”

Veronica stood up and reached for Summer’s hand, lifting her up as well. “I will do my damnedest to be less confrontational if you do as well. Also if you are willing to explain this whole Shiva business to me, then… I’ll explain my faunus business. I suppose.” Her tail instinctively wrapped around her waist for security. She could tell by Summer’s expression that she was definitely intrigued. It was warranted. Veronica didn’t speak much about it on purpose. Now she was offering it on a silver platter. “Well?” She said anxiously”

Summer retook Veronica’s hand and shook it. “Alright, truce.”

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6 Review/Remix

The day finally came, and for some it was far far too late coming. Personally, I think this was a damn good time to get the story we got, but to each their own. It’s time to weave a wicked fairy tale, a twisted Cinderella Story without a happily ever after. Join me, won’t you?~

We open on a sight not terribly unfamiliar this Volume, young Cinder washing and scrubbing a wooden floor in raggedy clothing. A single tear seems to fall among the water, but she continues on. For a split second, we see a woman’s lower half as she walks through this barn setting before getting an exterior shot that yes this is a barn on what looks to be a very sparse farm. We get several quick cuts like this, and from what we see in them it becomes quite clear what sort of life Cinder is living. An orphan ostracized and bullied by other kids, already with a violent streak as she’s shown tackling one of her aggressors rather than passively taking the pain. She’s still fairly weak and starved compared to the others, since she gets pulled off her victim and tossed aside easily, and a closeup of her face shows some gaunt features. All that misery seems like it might turn around when the mystery woman we saw briefly decides she’ll take Cinder. Next thing she or the audience know, Cinder is in Atlas, standing outside a big fancy hotel and staring at the opulence with no small amount of wonder. Immediately, my thoughts shift from Cinderella to little orphan Annie and I gain some small measure of hope. But it cannot last, and the Madame (as she is solely credited despite clearly being our Lady Tremaine in this story) sternly ushers her inside the Glass Unicorn (I’d like to thank the person who helped me read that cursive golden light lettering). Once inside, Cinder is rather awestruck at the lavish lobby and all the happy people she sees within. (Meanwhile I took notice of the sign on the front desk openly declaring that they do not serve Faunus. Hooray for blatant systemic racism...) But she doesn’t have much time to look around, because she’s again brought deeper inside to the kitchen where we meet her new stepsisters. And what a pair, green eyes and light brown hair just like their mother, with devilish smirks of condescension. All Cinder can think about as she’s given her list of grueling chores is the platter of bread and cheese behind the twin devils. Priorities in a palace of plenty like this. You might think to yourself, well now that’s a little harsh for a couple of girls we’re literally just meeting. But don’t worry, they immediately prove how spiteful and cruel they are by laughing at Cinder for asking for food, and laughing even harder when the Madame throws a bread roll for her on the floor she just said was filthy. Great first impressions indeed, and I don’t think there’ll be a direct to DVD sequel to redeem either of them through time travel shenanigans... god I’m old.

We get a montage of Cinder in her new working uniform doing various jobs around the hotel for very little reward or praise. The guests don’t care, her stepsibs give her a slap on the wrist for trying to snack on one of the strawberries she was decorating a cake with... only to turn around and have one of them eat that same strawberry herself right in front of her, and any painful accidents she suffers in the line of duty are met with only disapproval and mocking laughter. She eats guests leftovers, and it seems like she’s the only employee here besides her new family, not that they’re doing much of the work. What really ties this sad montage together is an as of yet unnamed song to that has been serving as Cinder’s leitmotif for years but now has lyrics. Those lyrics, as poor luck would have it, are insults and orders that Cinder must have heard everyday in this life of slavery and misery. “Do your chores, rub my feet, no one said that you could think, no one’s ever loved you, etc.” There’s obviously more of an order and rhyme to them, but I wanted to lay out some of the harshest kickers. We see a particular instance of suffering where she’s cleaning the carpets on the second floor and her sisters start stomping mud right in front of her just to mock her with “You missed a spot~” and give her more work to do. Cinder has taken just about enough now, and her Semblance kicks in for what might be the first time as she starts heating up the wet brush in her hand. She throws it at them in anger and it creates a cloud of steam and possibly smoke depending on how much of that wooden brush she burned. This gets the attention of her stepmother of course, but also that of a mysterious huntsman who had been showing off a new sword in the lobby much to Cinder’s earlier distant amazement. The Madame is none too happy with the scene Cinder has just caused or the fact that she lashed out against her actual daughters. So she gives the poor girl a necklace... with a stone of electric Dust in it. It’s a shock collar, and every time Cinder acts out from this point on, or just doesn’t do well enough for her stepmother’s standards, she will be painfully shocked and forced to apologize with a mantra we’re now all too familiar with. “Without you, I am nothing...”

Next thing we see, Cinder is crawling through a vent into a secret room in the back of the hotel. Based on the tons of furniture covered in sheets back here and the mattress with a couple pillows, I’d say this is what passes as her bedroom with how little fucks her adopted family gives. The Huntsman from earlier is heard being rather pissed that one of his swords is missing, and I get a small amount of sick satisfaction hearing one of the stepsisters panic in the face of his complaints and deliver a trademarked customer service line, “I apologize for the inconvenience”. I hear that every damn day in my day job, and I know how it feels to be where she is. After tormenting Cinder, they deserve to squirm. Naturally, Cinder was the one who took it, but is caught admiring it in her little hideaway by the Huntsman it belongs to himself. In the credits and subtitles his name is revealed to be Rhodes, and the public opinion on him becomes... mixed at best as time goes by. At the very least, here he confronts her without fighting her and disarms her with reassuring words. He knows she’s getting an awful deal here, but hurting these people and running away will solve nothing. She’ll be running for the rest of her life if she did that, never having a place to safely call home. He offers her an alternative, one she seems to pick up on quickly. Becoming a Huntress and gaining her freedom through that official title. But here we get a real sudden kick in the teeth. At this point, Cinder is only 10 years old. No 10 year old should be suffering the way she is, and if I were Rhodes I would try and have the Madame exposed and arrested for her abusive crimes. But we unfortunately don’t know if any child protective services exist that he could go to about this problem, and instead he tries a different approach. He’s not going to be staying here forever, but he’ll be back and forth over the next 7 years, and during that time he’ll train her to be ready for the Huntsman exams. This sounds like a good plan on paper, but then you realize what it means for her. Enduring 7 years of this abuse and pain, on the dangling carrot promise that she can leave one day and finally have some chance at decency. It’s the bare minimum effort on his part, and it makes him feel like a hero without having to actually inconvenience himself and fight for her freedom. She deserves better, but she’s sadly not getting it. Still, she does get training. 

We see time pass, he comes and goes, she keeps getting shocked and her resentment keeps growing. She gets older, her uneven pigtails become a short ponytail, and one day he gifts her the sword she had once stolen. She’s earned it, and in a couple more years she’ll be free to use it for her dream job. Too bad this was entirely the wrong move on his part. Cinder has something nice, and the stepsisters won’t stand for that, especially since it’s a dangerous weapon. They tattle to the Madame, and Cinder’s punishment is soon to come worse than ever before. Or so they would like to think. They go into the back to confront her at 11:40, and Rhodes walks in the front door at 11:56. There’s no one to greet him, not a sound to be heard until he gets to the front desk and picks up a distant crash. He gets to Cinder’s room, all too late. The stepsisters lie dead on the floor while Cinder is choking her stepmother to death with her bare hand. She tries in vain to subdue her with the remote for her shock collar, but the pain is just a stinging motivator she’s grown to tolerate. She may have been made to feel like she is nothing without the opportunities given to her by this woman, but now she is EVERYTHING because of what hell she has been through. Cinder snaps her neck and tosses her aside to be faced with her mortified mentor. The clock is striking midnight, and Cinderella did not use her gifts wisely at the ball. But it’s okay, right? Now her tormentors are gone and she won’t have to run anymore, right? Right, Rhodes??? No. Now he’s decided she’s too far gone and he has to fight her, to arrest her for the triple homicide that was most assuredly a mixture of self defense and cathartic revenge. Cinder realizes that even this man she trusted is her enemy, and with the last chime of the clock the spell of her temporary happiness is broken. The two fight, and seem evenly matched for a time, Cinder countering his Semblance of turning his skin to metal by using her own to heat the metal and still hurt him. I should like to point out that this power of his makes for a great layered pun, as it is similar to the mutant power of the X-Men character Colossus, and there is a famous Greek statue of the sun god Helios known as the Colossus of Rhodes. Back to the fight, Cinder temporarily blinds him by throwing a sandbag that he slices into, and in that confusion swipes his second sword so they can both dual wield since he primarily uses a set of maces. She gets a few clean slices in and takes out his Aura, but he bashes her away to hit a chest and there goes her Aura in return. He assumes the fight is over and goes to collect her unconscious body, but she was playing possum and stabs him in the gut with both swords. In his final moments, he lays a hand on her head as if saying he’s proud of her for growing so much. You may have had good intentions, Rhodes, but you were not a very good person and didn’t do enough to call yourself a Huntsman. I can’t imagine what kind of hell a Chaotic Good huntsman like Qrow would have done if he had been the one to find Cinder, but it probably would have been better than the surface level hero work this guy did. As things stand, we know Cinder is heading down the bad path and takes one last sad moment to finally tear her necklace off and cry a single tear up at the moon. 

We cut back to present as she wakes up in what I assume is her room aboard Monstra. Emerald is happy to see her awake, but Cinder chastises her for bringing them back to Salem emptyhanded. Em tries to assert that she put her concern for her mentor above the mission and its the sole reason they’re free and alive at all, but Mercury comes in to remind her that a repeat failure like Cinder doesn’t deserve that help. Em tries to stand up for her boss, to say that she was right to go attack Amity because the goodie goodies were up to something and they did a lot to stop it, but Mercury lays the heavy truth bomb on her again. Don’t defend Cinder, you’re not gonna win her love and support because she doesn’t give a shit about you. Cinder shuts them both up and dismisses them until she has need of them, much like the dismissive way Salem treated her a few episodes back. But Mercury got promoted, Cinder’s not his supervisor anymore and he doesn’t have to listen to her. Hearing that takes some wind out of Cinder’s sails, and she’s left alone to stew about this turn of events as Merc tells her everyone is needed on the bridge cuz something big is gonna happen.

Shifting to another room, Oscar is lying on the floor with a black eye and some blood on his lip, and probably a bunch of broken bones and internal bleeding. This poor poor kid... He and Oz are having a discussion about who should be the one in the driver’s seat for these beatings. Oscar sure as hell doesn’t deserve it, but since he’s not the one Hazel is mad at he’s not getting roughed up quite as much as if Oz was present. Oz wants to take over, to try and get them a way out of here, but Oscar thinks they have a golden opportunity if they stay. Oz is initially unsure what that means, but Oscar has some solid reasoning. Salem doesn’t do the fighting herself, she turns people to her side and has them fight her battles. Her spies sow seeds of chaos and discourse among her enemies, and now Oscar can do the same. They can try and talk some sense into Hazel or the kids and turn them against Salem. She won’t be beaten, surely, but she’ll be crippled without her eyes ears and devious hands. No time like the present, as Hazel comes back in for round... idk, maybe 10? Oscar gives Oz control again and Hazel is immediately pissed to recognize that tone of voice again. He assumes Oz had been hiding inside Oscar and forcing the kid to endure the pain instead of him, not realizing it was the reverse and Oscar was being selfless. But rather than argue that, Ozcar tries to get Hazel to see the cruel reality of it all. He won’t deny he has done wrong by this man, but how is Salem somehow the better choice? He should be fighting to stop her and her evils. Hazel stops for a moment, reveals his feelings on the matter. She can’t be stopped, he’s seen that himself. She’s an unstoppable force, and Oz is the worse of the two for knowing this and still sending people to try and stop her. Oz argues that someone has to at least try, that yes she actually can be fought and slowed and steered astray. But if she gets what she wants and gathers the relics... well, he doesn’t get a chance to reveal that much because Salem herself enters the room and welcomes her old love back to the grace of her company. It’s time to bring him to his front row seat for the impending show. 

It begins with a show of force and loyalty, all her underlings bowing before her on her throne. Em and Neo are off to the side and Hazel is forcing Oscar to bow too, but Mercury Cinder and Tyrian have all taken a knee right in front of their queen. Good news everyone, Watts presumably got Ironwood’s Scroll working and reported his successful takeover of Penny back to Tyrian and thus to Salem. Both men have proven their value, while Cinder’s rogue stunt has put her worth to the cause in serious question. Just like so many years ago, Cinder starts writhing in agonizing pain, this time inflicted by her own Grimm arm. Good to know Salem’s gift of a new limb was also a way to enforce punishment... But unlike the Madame, Salem claims to blame herself for Cinder’s disobedience. She’s been stifling Cinder’s drive for power and freedom, it’s no wonder she did what she did. She should be giving her chances to grow and rise, and so now she is. Cinder’s new mission is to go free Watts from jail and with his help murder Penny for the Winter Maiden powers. But it will be a challenge to prove herself, because Salem is also sending the Hound for the very same job. Both outcomes will result in Cinder getting the powers and Salem getting the Staff from the Vault, but only one will truly be an earned victory for Cinder and she damn well knows it. Ozcar tries to object, to say getting the Relics will doom them all, but hush now little fool~ You’re too late.

Cutting immediately away from that frightening situation, we get Winter and the Ace Ops flying out over the tundra in search of Penny. Elm is complaining about having to retrieve “broken junk” and how they shouldn’t trust Watts or his technology. Good point about trusting Watts, but we’re well past that problem now. Winter barks at Elm to stop whining and act professional. They pick up a comm signal, and it turns out to be from Jaune warning anyone who can hear it about the Grimm river. They head for the source of the signal, and the two groups cross paths under the most tense of tenses. Jaune gets to business and tries to get these professional huntsmen, public servants of their kingdom, to come deal with this unprecedented threat. But Harriet just wants to know where Penny is and refuses to acknowledge any problem except the one she was sent to deal with, so she blames these three kids who haven’t seen Penny in like 12 hours for whatever danger there is. Thankfully, she shuts up when a tremor rocks all of Mantle. The tremors keep building, even the Grimm take some amount of notice. Then it stops again. Then the biggest one yet hits, and suddenly the riverbed is empty. A geyser of primal Grimm goo blasts up into the side of Atlas, and it’s persistent enough that a big splash of it gets through the Hard Light shields. Out of the goo comes a swarm of centinels, who crawl up to the towers projecting the shield over the Kingdom itself and burrow into the ground around one of these towers. An airship blasts a laser down, but it can only get one target at a time and the rest burrow in. Down plummets one tower, and with it goes the entire shield. It’s like a string of Christmas lights with a single bad bulb, and that’s not a design flaw you want in the first line of defense around a major metropolitan area. As people across the Kingdom, including the team hiding out in Schnee Manor and a for once knocked off kilter General Ironwood, watch on in horror, Salem makes her move. Monstra swoops in and crests beautifully over the edge of Atlas, and then comes crashing down in the midst of the farmlands on the edge of the city with a bellyflop. The colossal aquatic mammal of the air opens its dark maw, and out floods a wave of more grimm sludge. From that primordial ooze arises just about every variety of Grimm we have ever seen with the exception of Kevin, Jim&Randall, Levi, and the Hound. The battle for Atlas has begun, and there are a wardrobe’s worth of white Atlesian military pants to be darkened. And this isn’t even the mid-season finale! So there’s even worse things sure to come! Can’t wait~

[quatschmachen]

Bitchumen

A nice heartwarming sort of xmas fic. Phone call takes place in 2000, the xmas in 1999.

Edward rants to someone about something.

XXX “Right, like you can actually understand what’s going on.” The sarcasm dripped thick like bitumen from Edward’s tongue, the sticky anger clinging to every surface.“You treating me with the polite decency of a stranger doesn’t actually make you a good person, Calvin – it doesn’t even make you a friend.”

Blowing a breath out, Edward rubbed his face, his shoulders stuck between wanting to spike up in stiff defense or simply drop down in defeat.

“Which is why you get the couch,” here his arms crossed, brooking no argument, “I don’t even know why you thought it was going to be fine just showing up, months after being an asshole thinking I would even put you up. I just know Edith would have you out on your ass, and honestly you’re lucky you got me when I was even in town. Hold on… Mr. Big Shot, you have enough money to get a fucking hotel room, why the shit am I even considering you to stay here with me? Why the hell am I not throwing you out on your ass?”

Another breath out, and Edward sighed, “No, this won’t do.”

With a slump, he plopped onto the couch, and glanced around his small living room, wondering why the hell he was even practicing this as a conversation. Calvin hadn’t dropped by in months. It wasn’t like he was going to any time soon. The lines had been clearly drawn, and even an entitled oil cowboy wasn’t going to pretend everything hadn’t changed.Apparently the weeks off were just giving him time to go crazy. Usually this would be the time he would jet off to Montreal, but instead he was stuck in his house losing it. He was worried if he showed up on Étienne’s doorstep he would just start crying. Definitely not a thing to do.

His thoughts were disrupted as the telephone began to ring. With a sigh, he rolled off the couch and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Eddy!” Étienne’s voice rang out through the phone and wrapped around him like a warm hug.

“’Tienne,” Edward breathed out, automatically relaxing, he flomped down into the seat beside the telephone.

“I’ve been calling for weeks and thought you had died,” he joked, but the edge of worry was still there.

“Sort of had.” Edward murmured, “Actually I sort of moved out, I guess. Mac came down in January and I ended up moving north with him and picked up a hitch. Just got off and am laying around at home too dead to do anything.”

“Hitch?”

“Uhm working in the oil patch. Living at camp, pretty much isolated from the world…”

“Surrounded by big burly men? You could have at least sent me a postcard, Eddy,” Étienne teased, but there was an underlying tone Edward had difficulty deciphering, “I was thinking if it was my turn to come pull you out of the swamp of misery.”

“I guess I could have but… to be honest it all sort of just happened?” Edward sighed, “And once I was up in Fort Mac, and then out working, it’s difficult to really communicate. Just work till you drop, then into the camp to exercise or watch porn.”

“What? They actually supply porn?”

“And sometimes even prostitutes, but that’s apparently not truly allowed…” Edward paused, “but unfortunately no prostitutes were of interest to me.”

“How unfortunate. I was up to my eyeballs with inconvenient work,” Étienne paused, “Christmas was about the same as always, Suzette passes along her best wishes. The food was divine, and I ended up losing an arm-wrestling match to Élyse.”

Edward laughed, “What were the stakes?”

“Hmmm, well she got to eat my slice of cake; it was some terrible cake Samuel had made – yes I know, please believe me when I say he made this cake. Truly no real artisan of food would have produced something as terrible as that cake. I think it ostensibly was supposed to be a fruit cake – with a thick layer of chalky marzipan on top. Somehow he managed to over-alcohol a cake while having it be dry at the same time. I was ready to submit it to the Guinness Book of Records…”

“So why was Élyse battling you for your slice?”

“You see, I may have already had a fight or two with Samuel – he has some new boytoy, and he was being so insipid and sickly about it, I may have been ready to fight over any little thing. Élyse figured if I got rid of the slice via arm wrestling it could possibly save Christmas or something. Yadda yadda. Apparently no one seems to enjoy the Christmases when Samuel breaks down in angry tears and yells for an hour – not sure why when I find that sooooooo entertaining.”

“God I wish I was there for that… seeing Samuel’s face as if he was punched when he tries to cry elegantly is so therapeutic…” Edward murmured, “I feel like my Christmas was just me being the crying one.”

“Crying? What happened, Édouard?”

Squiggling in his seat, Edward wondered how much he should tell. A part of him wanted to spill it all, but another part wondered if that would be too much of an inconvenience. How much of his stupid worries did Étienne really want? Closing his eyes, Edward pretended they were in the same room together, maybe even touching, head on Étienne’s shoulder, not necessarily looking at the man, but bodies snuggled up, his hair getting played with. Those small stolen moments of bliss, where the worries got spilled, and he didn’t worry about the consequences.

“Christmas was so awkward; I don’t even know where to begin. The entire time I desperately wished I had gone to yours… it felt like the last time I try to be a functional person among them… hell, I only went because I thought maybe I could improve relations with people… start the new millennium off with some hope about the future.”

It really had been terrible. They had held it at the ranch – Bert’s ranch. Why the hell did he think hanging out with people at the ranch would be a good idea? Surrounded by people you probably should know better, but in reality only held passing pleasantries with. The one bright spot had been Calvin. Calvin who seemed to be best buddies with everyone who arrived, Calvin who smiled brightly at him and argued with him, distracting him from the knot of anxiety he was harbouring over whether he should come out during Christmas or hold off until New Years?

He was attempting small talk with Jo, who was talking at him about how they should go shopping together (did she not do other stuff?), when he overheard Bert loudly say “I personally don’t think those fags should be given the deal.”

It felt like time had slowed down for Edward. No one seemed to pause or care. Orson in fact nodded along with Bert’s rant, sipping his Sprite. Jo continued on with her plans for her next visit, and somewhere nearby Red laughed at a joke Madeline made. As he observed the room to see if there was any reaction to Bert’s loud rant, everyone was involved in their own conversations. Calvin was in the distance deep in conversation with someone he could not quite make out. 

Right, this was not the place. He still wanted turkey dinner, and as he dimly nodded along to Jo, Edward felt small. He had no allies here. Well, that wasn’t true. He was sure Edith supported him, but one in how many? Edward didn’t want to ‘ruin Christmas’.

“And you know how I’ve been thinking about coming out and stuff, but uh, can I just say no? If you were in the room you would understand – seriously Étienne, these people who claim to be my so called family would just as well lynch me as their Christmas bonfire – I dunno they could just douse me in bitumen and light me up human torch Christian martyr style for bringing the faggotry home for Christmas… Soooo I didn’t want to ruin Christmas and make the event awkward for everyone,” Edward related over the phone.

“And then horror of horrors, Orson managed to corner me in what he thinks is jovial conversation. It felt like everything he had to say to me was condescension masked in care and concern – honestly I am not sure how he even manages that. I think he felt like it was his civic duty to carry on a conversation with me. He even reminisced about the temple open house he dragged me to. Ok honestly I went to the open house out of curiosity, to see what sort of cult he’s in, but I didn’t think he would already be reminiscing about something that had literally JUST happened. Temple? Yeah, a Mormon temple just opened up in my city… so it meant I had the pleassssuuure of Orson coming up for the Open House and dragging me along. Stay with me? God no, please ‘Tienne I’m not that insane, what would I do if he snooped and found my big old dildo? Yeah he was staying with some church people since he was volunteering and such.”

“I think I wanted to die when he sat down at the piano – yeah, I didn’t even think Bert ever tuned that thing, but knowing Orson maybe he came extra early to tune it, and began banging out the Christmas carols. Like he’s talented and all, and I don’t mind a round of Jingle Bells, but he really has this creepy 1950s vibe and I wanted to roll my eyes when his eyes started to shine with unshed tears at Away in a Manger and O Holy Night.” Edward twisted the cord around his finger, as he listened to Étienne chuckle. Apparently the tactic was avoid talking about himself and instead rant about goody-two-shoes Orson? “You should count yourself lucky you don’t have to deal with him on a regular basis… mmm? Yeah he is kind, considerate and is literally the guy to volunteer for the worst tasks but there is something about him where he is a little too perfect? Like somehow can’t let my hair down around him type of deal. Which makes him perfect for Lilith – as she always has her hair up, haha.”

Edward had relaxed into his seat, somehow feeling lighter, as the words slipped out, “And then New Years was somehow worse… no I wasn’t at the ranch. I probably should have taken you up on your fireworks show, because the one here is uh Edmonton grade. You know – trying real hard but still somehow failing to miss the mark,” he chuckled at his own joke, not picking up on the strained tension from Étienne over the phone. “Calvin came up, which surprised me since I assumed he would want to be gallivanting about in Calgary, but apparently he wanted to spend it with his best buddy which is me? Somehow? Don’t worry Teddy, you’re still my best friend…” Edwards voice lowered, as he realized what he was about to say, admit. Pause. “So how was your New Years? Aahh why are you yelling – oh you’re saying I didn’t mention why New Years sucked? It’s because it wasn’t with you, darlin’.”

Somehow Edward couldn’t do it. Couldn’t quite bring himself around to admitting he had come out to Calvin. How he had fallen into a depression when he got outright rejected. “Hmm? Well, how else can I put it… while I could have been kissing you and sucking your cock, I instead got to hold Calvin’s hair back as he literally puked in my poinsettias… yes… mmhmm. The poor plant didn’t make it.”

Tangling his finger in the phone cord, Edward found himself relaxing as Étienne told him about his New Years event, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. The other man’s voice soothing him. Trying to be home for Christmas and the New Years - attempt to enter the new millennium as a man of his own place, had been a major mistake.

He should have kept to his original plans of escaping to Montreal, escaping his own clay dirt to mold himself into his own dream man.Sometimes he wondered if he loved Étienne or simply wanted to be Étienne. A complicated mixture of feelings confusing him ever more when it came to that man.

“Visit? I would love to visit… oh wait, you want to come visit me? When? Hmm let me… check my calendar.” Edward sat up, looking around, and then picked up the phone, carefully picking his way into the kitchen, so he could squint at the calendar. His telephone cord ran out though, so he had to do an awkward strain, trying not to unplug the phone, while seeing his own scribbled-in life.

Well… the only thing really was his work shifts. Everything else a blank. “How does this time work? You’re booked up. Alright…” Edward and Étienne haggled over dates, until somehow, it lined up that Edward was going to Montreal. A subtle shift, but as Edward said with some practicality – that’s just how it lined up. As he hung up the phone, he wrote down the date of his trip, feeling better. Now in between work was a small bright spot, one small thing to look forward to.He was not as friendless as he thought, and, perhaps with enough courage, he could finish his New Years story.