#cause none of us are special so he must be just a little bit talented yknow

[thelastattempt]

maybe i am blinded, maybe i am close minded, but all yall out there with festival anxiety cause you’re afraid they won’t like him… like, dear, come here and sit down. cause we are very different people and i need to understand how that brain of yours is working.

[hypnomicimagines]

First Time [Iruma Jyuto]

Jyuto knew how to set a romantic mood.

The lighting in his apartment was set low but not too dark, the candles lining the dinner table giving just the right amount of illumination while you sat across from each other. You even teased that he brought out the fancy cutlery for your stay-at-home date, amused at the color tinging his face to say you hit the nail on the head. He normally wouldn’t put so much pomp and circumstance into his own meals but tonight had been a special occasion, and he hadn’t minded getting his hands dirty if it meant making you happy.

He didn’t often cook just for the sake of it with how busy he always was but on special occasions, he found the energy to do so. He had to follow the recipe down to the finest detail as he couldn’t afford to lose face and have to admit to you that he had to order take-out because of his reading comprehension skills. It was a stressful endeavor to keep the food warm until you got there (he started a bit early just in case more time was needed to prepare the meal, but it ended with everything being a bit before you were due to arrive). He was quite proud of his presentation as well and from the sparkle in your eye you were impressed as well, commenting about the perfection he seemed to stress in all areas of his life.

“This is good!” You put another forkful of food in your mouth, smiling as you did so; you knew he must have slaved over a hot stove to make this all for you, so you wanted to show your gratitude. You would’ve been perfectly fine with take-out since the only thing you were seeking from tonight was Jyuto’s company, but to know he went the extra mile for you made warmth spread across your chest.

“That’s good to hear. I’ve never tried this before so it was a toss-up on whether it’d be…edible.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth, he had tried this before but not in the natural course of his life. He had practiced making the meal about four times that week, having it for dinner every day and finding something new he had done wrong. His trial runs had left his stomach a bit upset, the same meal every day was tiresome, but he was dedicated to the cause of showing you a good time. He wouldn’t be cooking a large meal again so soon, or at least he hoped you’d want to do it together as a sort of romantic bonding exercise.

“You did great,” You reassured him, placing your utensils down on your now empty plate. “You always get so stressed out about impressing me. Consider me thoroughly impressed.”

Jyuto hated the way you could see through him yet at the same time he knew he needed a person like that, someone who could call him on his bullshit when he was putting on airs. He would never let you know, of course, sending a coy smile and motioning towards the living room. You listened to the clanking of dishes as Jyuto quickly cleaned up, approaching you with a glass of wine in hand before sitting beside you. The TV stayed on the low as light-hearted chatter took place, allowing you to bond without any distraction. Jyuto had always been the type of person to hate distractions, especially when you were on a date, it was why he liked when the opportunity for at home dates arose. He liked to take you out on the town just as much but it was just all the more personal when you could be close like this.

“You finished your wine. Being an upstanding officer of the law, I can’t allow you to drive yourself home like that.” Jyuto placed your glass beside his empty one, staring at you with a quirked eyebrow. “Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?”

“Hm, more comfortable than your couch? Why, I’d love to.”

You already knew where his bedroom was, you’d been in his house countless times before, staring at it at times when you headed off to the bedroom. You had once been amused at the sight of handcuffs just lying there and he had insisted with tomato red cheeks that they were for on-duty use only. You assumed he just had another set for when it was time to have fun in the bedroom but you didn’t press it, saving it in your arsenal for future flustering purposes.

You playfully fell back on his bed, a hand pressed to your head as you waited for him to join you. He’s fumbling with his tie but trying to act like he’s doing other things, a nervous reaction that has your blood pumping. You removed yourself from his bed (knowing you’d meet it again shortly) and reached up to help him, steadying his hands while doing your best to act like you weren’t paying attention to his face. His lips were parted, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip while you slowly slid his tie off. You grabbed his hands next, holding them up and slowly sliding the leather gloves he always wore off so the beautiful skin underneath could be seen.

Jyuto shuddered as you kissed his fingers, just the reaction you wanted as you continued to kiss each digit until you were satisfied. But something so simple wouldn’t curb his hunger for you for long and he slowly pushed you back towards the bed, waiting for you to fall back with your dramatic flair once more before ‘falling’ on top of you. He hovered over your lips, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitance but there was none to be found.

“Are you going to leave me waiting here all night, officer? I’m looking nice and pretty just for you, so I sure hope something happens before that pager of yours goes off.”

“You are beautiful.” Jyuto seemed breathless, “There’s not a single moment of this that I’m going to rush.”  

You were about to say another flirtatious comment but it was your turn to have your breath taken away, Jyuto’s impossibly soft lips brushing briefly against yours to silence you before drifting to your neck. He turned your head to give himself more access, kissing along your jaw as well, lips lingering at the point where he could feel your pulse. You might act as cool and calm as him but it was clear his feelings were returned, that you were as excited for this moment as he was. All those canceled dates, tension filled car rides, apologies and fights, it had all culminated into a relationship he felt was worth dying for.

If you asked him, he thought he really would take a bullet for you.

No need to have such morbid thoughts when the love of his life was laying before him, arching into his touch and moaning for more. His lips locked with yours and it became too hard to pull away even as he slowly stripped you of your clothing, even as you began to unbutton his shirt and tug at his pants. He let out a needy groan as you finally pulled away to get proper air consumption, giggling as he chased after your lips before pouting and fully stripping himself of his shirt. It felt obscene to see his hard dick peeking out from his boxers but you supposed you’d only ever seen Jyuto when he was ‘on’, in professional mode, even when you were on romantic outings together.

But this Jyuto was more vulnerable, quite literally having nothing to hide behind anymore.

It didn’t seem like he minded much.

Your eyes lit up as Jyuto’s hand slipped between your thighs, teasingly rubbing the area around your clit but denying the satisfaction of actual friction. He kissed between your breasts, then the soft skin around your nipples, his finger keeping its slow, steady pace. You had to imagine what this was like for so long yet you were happy to know that your brain had been right about quite a few things, like how talented Jyuto was with his fingers and how lovingly he treated foreplay. He was quite thorough in his exploring of your body, touching every part of your body he could reach, kissing every part of your body that you’d allow him to.

“I’m happy,” You whispered as Jyuto’s forehead rested against yours, a momentary pause. “Thank you for such a wonderful night.”

“I’d give you anything you ask for.”

“That doesn’t count if I’m naked.”

“Put your clothes back on then, and I’ll make sure to keep the same promise.”

“Do you want me to put my clothes back on?”

“…No.”

You laughed into the kiss Jyuto gave you next, spreading your legs to give him more room to settle himself between your thighs. You can feel his dick pressing against you, eager as it’s owner, but you don’t push him to move. You’re enjoying the feeling of him rubbing against your clit, his lips moving to your neck again as he wanted to reassure you were ready for him.

You were ready.

More than ready.

You had waited for this mans dick for so long but your pride wouldn’t allow you to say such a thing, nor would you stroke this mans already large ego. You tried to keep your moans quiet but it was so hard when he knew what he was doing, listening to your body with ease and receptive to all the things that made you feel good. You muffled your groan of pleasure by crushing your lips against Jyuto’s as he pressed inside of you, the sensation of being finally being filled after waiting for so long being a welcoming sensation.

The rest seemed to blend together as Jyuto moved his hips, eyes laser-focused on your face even as you tried to hide from him; it was embarrassing, the way moans kept slipping out with every thrust. You don’t think any man has ever made you feel as good as him, as loved and cherished, and the more you thought about it the more turned on you were. You changed tactics for hiding your face with a nearby pillow to holding Jyuto close, pressing kisses to his shoulder much like he had been doing to you a few moments before.

Jyuto wanted to see you but he’d let it go for now, knowing there would be plenty of time to plead his case when it came to seeing the beauty of your face while he pleasured you. His pace began to quicken and your legs tightened around his waist further, little whimpers slipping past your lips that encouraged him to keep moving at that perfect angle. It’s a battle of wills for who’s going to come first but Jyuto cheated, hand barely capable of slipping between you yet doing so so he could toy with your clit. You tried to call him out on his cheating but your body is in ecstasy as you come, crying out his name and trying to ignore the knowing smirk on his face.

It had been a few hours but it only felt like a few minutes, your naked form staying tangled with Jyuto’s even after he pulled out. It was like a part of you was worried it still wasn’t real, that you were just in bed with the company of your hand and vibrator and not the man you’d loved for nearly a year now. As he reached over to kiss your face again your brain came to terms with that fact your wildest dreams were coming through, you were indeed in bed with the cop that you had a teasingly flirtatious turned real love relationship with.

You should tell him that, tell him that you love him, make it even more real by making that first move but.

“Say it!”

“Say what?” He shot you a coy look, eyebrow raised. “Is there something I should be saying now?”

“There is! I won’t say it first. I refuse! Now hand it over.”

“Or else what? What’ll you do to me if I don’t give you what you want?”

“Oh, so you want another round then? Not until I hear the magic words.”

“Which are…?”

You’d be at it all night, but Jyuto never could deny you.

You just had to be patient.

[sunflowerdarlingx]

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date” 3

H everyone, I hope you’re all okay! 

PART ONE 

PART TWO 

Thank you all for the kind comments on the previous parts of this imaine. I post these chapters before I go to sleep and waking up to all your lovely comments and messages really give me the best start to the day.

This is the final part to this series. I’ve had a lot more interaction with people from this story so if anyone would like to request a piece please let me know :)

I hope you all liked the ending, it’s a bit longer than I thought but hopefully its what you all wanted x  

Female Reader.

Warnings: None

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

Fred felt his chest get tight, the sound of her voice alone made his heart ache. He felt the overwhelming need to cry again, tears threatening to spill whilst a lump formed in his throat. Fuck she can’t see me like this.  

His body urged him to look at her, he sucked a deep breath in and turned his head to look at her, shit she looks so fucking cute. She was stood in a pair of shorts and one of Fred’s hoodies with a blanket wrapped around her loosely. Her hair was messy, and her glasses were resting a little low on her nose before she pushed them up.  

His eyes trailed down her body, he felt a small sense of pride seeing her in his hoodie, like he had some sort of claim on her when she wore it. Take that perfect Diggory, she likes my clothes better. I wonder if she wears it when she’s with him?  

Fred hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring for, “I..if not I’ll just go, sorry Freddie, for interrupting” Y/N turned on her heels, tears blurring her vision before he made a noise. A sort of squeak left his mouth before he cleared his throat “it’s okay, you can join me”, his hand patted the spot next to him.  

She patted her hand on the grass to make sure it wasn’t wet before sitting beside Fred. The sat in silence for a bit before Y/N decide to speak, “I’m sorry Freddie, I’m not really sure what I’ve done but I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I don’t like seeing you upset… especially if I’m the one who caused it” her voice broke and Fred looked down at her, even sitting down he still towered over her slightly.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder “don’t worry about it” a fake smile took over his face. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, he really did but she was with Diggory now.  

“W..what did I do Freddie?” Her voice was a hushed whisper as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Fred looked down at her, internally battling himself about what he should say. He wanted to tell her, he hoped she would change her mind, but if he told her, would she leave him? She had become one of his closest friends, the thought of not having her in his life at all was a thought he wanted to have.  

Fuck it.  

“I em…I saw you and Diggory, outside the kitchens”, that statement alone filled his body with anger as it replayed in his head, Diggory making her laugh, touching her, kissing her. His body tensed beside her, he removed his arm from her shoulders, his jaw clenched and he averted his gaze back up to the sky, sending the moon a deadly glare.  

“Oh…that was nothing” Y/N noticed the shift in Fred, she couldn’t help but admire him in that moment, the way the moon reflected on his skin, the way his jaw tensed and honestly she thought he looked sexy.

Fred averted his gaze back to her and watched her closely, the way her eyes skimmed his body, “didn’t look like nothing to me” his voice was cold.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, shocked at his tone, “it didn’t mean anything Freddie” she placed her and on his shoulder, “it just sort of happened”.

“Well I heard you were very cosy behind me at dinner so it must have meant something” he shrugged her hand off his shoulder. He usually loved having her touch him but he was angry, so fucking angry.  

He wondered what had happened once he left, for all he knows the exact same hands that were touching him had been all over Diggory. That then lead to him thinking about Diggory having his hands all over Y/N, touching her and holding her all the ways that Fred wished he could have done.  

Y/N was close to getting up and leaving, she was hurt by Fred’s words, why did he hate Cedric so much? So what if they kissed? Then realisation hit, “Freddie, are you jealous?”, his head shot down to face her.  

“No, I don’t get jealous” he stated. Shifting slightly, his eyes were dark as they stared into hers, his jaw still tense.

“Yes you are” she chuckled lightly “you’re jealous because Cedric kissed me”.

Fred groaned, his chest heaved slightly whilst the moment replayed in his head again “ugh don’t remind me, you shouldn’t have kissed him”  

“Why?” her perfect doe eye looked up at him through her glasses, batting her eyelashes as innocence filled her eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t know” he grunted and looked back up to the sky.  

“Well Freddie I don’t know, why shouldn’t I kiss Cedric?”

“Cause you should be kissing me Y/N, not Cedric! For the last god knows how many weeks we’ve spend so much time together, a lot more than you and perfect Diggory have and you still chose him! We’ve been on dates down to Hogsmeade, spent nights cuddled up sleeping in the common room and even talked about spending Christmas together! Like what on earth went through that pretty little head of yours when you decided to kiss him? Is he really that much better than me?” Fred’s whole body had turned to Y/N, his eyes pleading with her for some sort of explanation as to why she chose Diggory.

She smiled slightly “Freddie, did you ever actually state that those were dates or ever ask me to go on a date with you?”

His eyes widened “no, I thought it was fairly obvious what they were” he huffed.  

She turned to the side and sat up on her knees, “how many girls have you taken on dates from school?”.

The question shocked Fred, why was she asking about other girls?  

“None, I don’t date girls”  

“So, why did you think I would just assume they were dates?”, Y/N was confused, she never really thought Fred would like her like that, obviously what she was told today gave her a hint but she never knew what to think about the dates, she could only hope they meant as much to Fred as they did her.

Fred couldn’t come up with an answer, he sat with his mouth open and closing like a fish out of water for a minute and a half, “it wasn’t obvious?”.Y/N shook her head no. “Well what did you thunk they were?” he was so curious as to how she never figured out they were dates.  

“Well I… I mean I thought we were just hanging out. I kinda hoped they were dates but you don’t exactly have the reputation for dating do you Freddie? I kinda just always thought I was like Angelina or Katie or Alicia. I always wanted to ask but I was scared, I didn’t want to lose you as a friend”  

Fred couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was his reputation really that bad? I mean just because everyone knew he didn’t date didn’t mean he never dated anyone. “Oh” was all that left his mouth.  

“Yeah, oh” Y/N chuckled as she watched Fred’s brows knit together as his thoughts took over.  

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Fred decided to speak “so, say if you knew they were like… official dates, would you have kissed Diggory?”  

“Of course I wouldn’t have” she shook her head quickly.

“Would you have kissed me instead?” A cheeky grin took over Fred’s face.

“If I knew they were dates I would have kissed you the first night we came out here” she giggled and Fred couldn’t help but grin.  

“So what’s going on with you and Diggory then?” Even saying his name pissed Fred off.

“Nothing, he kissed me and then sat with me at dinner out of the blue, I’d hardly call that dating”.  

“What about me and you? Are we…you know…dating? Just since we’ve agreed that we have been on plenty of dates” he emphasised plenty as he chuckled at her.  

“Well that’s up to you Freddie, I thought you didn’t date” she teased, poking his chest.  

“I don’t date, unless I know the girl is right for me and someone I can see a future with so…”

“You see a future with me?” She interrupted him mid sentence.  

“Of course I do, the second I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were special. You literally took my breath away that day on the train, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as you. And these last few weeks…months, have only shown me how well we work together. Seeing you every morning in the hall just makes me feel so.. so good, and then when we are alone it’s like no one else exists. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, I’ve had my guard up for so long, sticking with people I know and am comfortable around and then you came along and the walls I’d built up crumbled. I’ve told you things that not even George knows. I just can’t explain it, I think that if I lost you now I’d be lost.”  

A few tears slipped down Y/N’s cheek whilst Fred spoke. He looked back up at the stars and wrapped his arm around her waist beside him.  

“Of course I can see a future with you, I picture it all the time. We’d have our own little house out in the country and a massive garden where the kids could play quidditch or some muggle sport that you’d get them into and we’d have a good space for outside summer parties like what we have at the burrow. Our kids would each have their own room so they didn’t have to share like George and I and they’d be little pranksters like me but just as smart and talented as you. oh and we’d have a dog, mum never let me have one …”

“We’d have kids?” Y/N’s soft voice brought Fred back to reality.  

He looked down at her “of course we would” he smiled “and we’d have a big wedding, like what Bill and Fleur are planning but we’d have to wait a bit after school before all that started”  

“Wow…you’ve really thought all this through Freddie” she giggled “so now that I know all about the future that you have planned for us,  what do we do now?”

Fred gave her a puzzled look raising his eyebrows whilst he raked his brain for an answer. “Uh….”

Y/N laughed “shouldn’t you ask me something?”

“Oh yeah right, I forgot. Would you like to go on a a date with me?”.  

Y/N frowned slightly, Fred’s eyes widened “what did I do something wrong?”  

“No..it’s just… never mind. I’d love to go on a date with you” She smiled up to him, cuddling into his side. As much as she would have loved the official title of being his she would wait as long as it took.

He pulled her blanket away from her and wrapped it around him. “Oi Freddie that’s mine, give it back” she giggled as she tried to pull the blanket back from him. Fred stretched his arm and held the blanket away from her, she got on her knees and leaned over Fred trying to get it. She placed her knees at either side of his thighs as she tried to reach over.  

She finally gave up and rested in his lap, “Freddie it’s cold” she pouted. Fred’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the position they were in. His eyes looked at her lips, then her eyes and then her lips again. God he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to see how it felt.  

Y/N leaned forward and placed her lips on Fred, he was surprised that she initiated the kiss but quickly responded, his hands dropped her blanket and went to her hips and pulled her closer to him, making sure his hands didn’t sit to low. His tongue glided across her bottom lip asking for entrance which she gladly excepted, their lips moving in perfect harmony.  

Y/N couldn’t help but think about how right this felt, Cedric was nothing compared to Fred, as cliché as it sounds she saw fireworks and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.  

Fred had never had a kiss this good, in all honesty he never really kissed the girls he had sex with, it just made the encounter far to intimate for him. But kissing Y/N felt amazing, he loved being so close to her. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers “I hope you know you’re mine now”, Y/N nodded eagerly before pulling him close for another kiss.  

They spent the rest of the night cuddled up under the stars watching as the sun came out. They walked hand in hand to the castle and sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. George was the first to come down and see them sat together “ah no more tears over Y/N then Freddie, did you finally convince her to give you a chance?” he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.  

“Yes Georgie he did” George choked on his juice slightly before grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  

“Finally! It’s taken you both long enough, sorry for the glares yesterday Y/N, they were mainly at Diggory, I just don’t like seeing Fred upset”.  

Y/N just shrugged before smiling at George “It’s okay Georgie, I don’t like seeing him upset either” she laughed and took a bite of the strawberry she was eating.

The rest of Fred’s friends came down, congratulating the two for finally getting together. Ginny came and sat with them, a big grin on her face. “All worked out in the end then ay Freddie” she teased as she ruffled his hair, “you made the right choice Y/N, perfect diggory is nothing compared to our Freddie”.  

Fred rolled his eyes as Y/N chuckled “you’re right about that”. They ate their breakfast in peace, Fred noticed Cedric come in and pulled Y/N close for a passionate kiss, all of his friends whooping and cheering making sure everyone’s eyes were drawn to them. They both pulled away, Y/N blushing and burying her head in Fred’s chest.  

Ron came over just as they were leaving “here’s the letter to mum gin, just Fred and George left to say if they’re taking anyone home for Christmas” he handed the parchment to George who lazily scribbled Lee’s name down with a little message before handing it to Fred.  

“Do you still want to come?” he looked down to Y/N whilst everyone else engaged in conversation, “If you want me to come I’m there” she smiled up at him and watched him scribble on the parchment.  

Hi mum,

I hope you and dad are good, I miss you both.  

I’m going to take my girlfriend home for Christmas, her name is Y/N Y/L/N, give her a sweater that would fit me please – she keeps stealing mine!

See you soon.  

Love, Freddie x  

He handed the letter back to Ginny before pulling Y/N away from the table, “time for our first date as official boyfriend and Girlfriend” he smirked before leading her to one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade.  

-

Having his girlfriend at the burrow for Christmas was everything Fred wanted and more. He never realised how much he had missed out on. They spent their days cuddled up on the couch watching old films whilst drinking hot chocolate, or out in the snow sledding or building snowmen. Every night was filled with more movies, games and of course Y/N reading muggle tales to Fred as they cuddled in front of the fire (although some of those tales were interrupted by mr Weasley who was so fascinated by the things muggles came up with in their stories).  

It was Christmas Eve and all of the family were heading up to their rooms, Fred tugged Y/N over to the front door and slid her jacket over her shoulders before securing her hat to her head and tying her scarf loosely around her neck. “Get on your boots cutie, I’ve got a surprise”. As Y/N got on her wellies, Mrs Weasley came over with a basket in hand.

“Everything you asked for Freddie” she popped it on the floor, “good night dearie, Freddie is so lucky to have found you” she wrapped her arms around Y/N, she did the same to Fred after he was ready. Walking over to the stairs she stopped and turned on her heels “remember when you get back to go to your separate rooms, I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet” with a wink she made her way up the stairs.  

“She’s honestly something else” Fred chuckled taking Y/N’s hand in his and leading her out to the garden.  

“I think she’s great”  

Fred used his wand to conjure up a seating area for the two of them and a little fire in front of them. In the basket was blankets, two mugs, a flask of hot chocolate and some marshmallows.  

“Freddie this looks great” Y/N couldn’t help but smile at Fred, she was so lucky to have him.  

He grabbed her wrist and looked at her watch, “five minutes to go” he wrapped a blanket around them both before getting the hot chocolate for them.  

He wrapped an arm around them as they watched the stars “they look so much prettier here than they do at school” Y/N looked up at Fred who was already watching her.

“You look just as pretty here as you do at school” he kissed her forehead. The clock struck midnight and suddenly fireworks started going off.  

Red ones, green ones, white ones, ones in the shape of Santa, ones in the shape of snowmen, Y/N couldn’t look away from them, they were beautiful. Suddenly the fireworks made two figures, they showed two people that Y/N recognised very clearly, it was her and Fred sat in two chairs, the scene sort of reminded her of the times they spent in the library. Next showed the two of them near a circle of blue, this reminded her of all the times they’d spent at the black lake.  

Finally the fireworks showed them kissing and “merry Christmas Y/N” was spelt above them, with “I love you” underneath.  

Y/N gasped as she looked over at Fred, a few tears had escaped her eyes and Fred softly wiped his thumb across her cheek, smiling down at her. “Do you really?” She asked in disbelief.  

“I love you” he placed a kiss to her lips, slow and gentle before pulling back. Y/N was practically grinning from ear to ear “I love you too Freddie”. They sat outside a little longer continuously saying those three special words to each other. They made their way back inside, sitting on the couch for a cuddle before bed. “Merry Christmas Freddie” Y/N yawned and cuddled into his chest.  

“Merry Christmas cutie” he kissed her forehead, his eyes shut.

They woke up the next morning to Mrs Weasley standing above them “I said separate rooms” she said sternly before breaking out into a smile “merry Christmas you two” she kissed both of their foreheads before going into the kitchen.  

Fred and Y/N were the first ones up, when they joined her in the kitchen they both apologies only to be waved off my Molly.

Soon it was time for presents, everyone received a jumper from Mrs Weasley and she followed Fred’s instructions, ensuring the jumper with Y/N’s initial was the same size as Fred���s.

Fred and Y/N left opening each other’s presents until last. Y/N got Fred a new beater for quidditch, some sweeties from honeydukes and a big teddy in the shape of a dog, “I know how much you’ve always wanted one” she winked. Fred grinned from ear to ear as he showed off his new bat to George.

It was now Y/N’s turn, there was a small box on the floor with her name on it, she carefully took off the wrapping paper and opened the box to reveal the most beautiful bracelet she had ever seen, there was a W charm attached with a broom and a star either side. “Oh Freddie I love it, thank you so much!” she practically flew into Fred’s arms giving him a big cuddle and a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered into her ear.  

“I love you too”  

Tagged

@jenniweaslee @britishspidey @parkeroffline @westyywifee @gloryekaterina @pineapplesandpinas @manuosorioh @itsbebeyyy @nojamsonmytoast @blackqueens01 @mahvelous @supermassiveblackhope @justmesadgirl @fandomlovver

[syndianites]

A Queen Serves and Protects

Chapter Three

First Chapter --> Last Chapter --> Current --> Next Chapter Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Getting akumatized was a special sort of uncomfortable. But it was exhilarating in all the same ways. Everything that one felt became louder, bigger, something beyond what it used to be. It grew into power. The power to act and take what was yours.

For Chloe, it just made her more upset. The anger had almost fizzled out, but the akuma brought it back with a vengeance. But unlike the last time she had been akumatized, her sorrow manifested much stronger than her rage.

Her skin darkened to a deep blue, almost purple, like the edge of the night sky after the sun had set. Where her hair had been in a high ponytail, it was undone and draped down and around her face. It looked stuck together and damp as though she had just been rained on. Chloe’s makeup looked washed out and runny both from her own tears and the transformation.

Most notably, her clothes became a simple long t-shirt and sweatpants that looked worn down and overused. The pants were a bright, light blue, while the shirt was a dark, deep crimson. To top it off, her sunglasses molded into a hat not unlike what her mother wore, but with goggles inlaid into them.

Without a word, Chloe put her hands before her and a large pair of scissors, easily the size of her chest, formed in her hand. Transformation complete, she turned on a dime and walked out the locker room.

A moment of silence followed before Pollen poked her head out the locker she had hidden away in. “Well, this isn’t good.”

//////

Marinette had never been so uncomfortable in her life. That included that time when she was seven and her twice removed cousins from her dad’s side came over and asked her why she didn’t wear dresses if she liked making them so much. And that one time she stepped foot first into a mud puddle, lost her shoe, and had to walk home with a sock soaked in mud.

It was bad.

Audrey, once Chloe had stormed out, continued on her tirade. “Ugh, how dramatic. Little Charlie needs to learn her place. She simply can’t compare to talent like yours, dear.”

Starting at being addressed, Marinette gave her a pinched smile.

“Now,” Audrey continued. “You simply must come to New York with me. The opportunities are endless, and skill such as yours would flourish under my attention!”

Her heart skipped a beat. New York was a big deal for fashion. Next to Paris, it was the place to be, and opening up her contacts to overseas big names would be a huge step for her career.

But could she work with someone this awful?

Sure, Marinette didn’t like Chloe, but even she thought that how her own mother treated her was cruel. It made her feel bad for the girl. It explained a lot about her, and for a moment Marinette considered being nicer to Chloe.

Not that that would make Chloe suddenly decide to be a good person. It would take the inevitable explosion of the sun for that to happen.

“I-i, um, I need to think about it, Mrs. Bourgeois.” Marinette glanced over at her parents. “I have a lot to consider about leaving or staying, and my parents still need my help at the bakery.”

Her parents, and oh how she loved them, spoke up immediately, “Oh, we can manage the bakery dear! Don’t worry about little old us, what’s important is your future.”

Please, take the hint guys.

Before Marinette can struggle to find more excuses to deny her request, Adrien pipes up, “Mrs. Bourgeois,” he flashes her an award winning smile, “Don’t you think that the way Chloe was handled was a bit… out of hand?” Gabriel laid a hand on Adrien’s shoulder, squeezing it gently before sharing a look with Natalie and wandering off.

Audrey rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Oh, darling, for such a sweet thing you can be so daft. Girls like that need a quick strike down before they let their misguidedness get to their head.”

Adrien, for his part, kept smiling. For those who knew him well enough, they could see the twitch in his eye as he struggled not to snap at the woman. “Ah, my apologies. In my experience, the best growth comes from a guiding hand that focuses on building a person up rather than tearing them down. But I suppose, for a critic, that is not the case at all. Though, the modelling experience is often different from the experience of those who make judgement calls on others’ hard work.”

Bringing a hand to her chest, Audrey sniffs derisively. “Sure, dear. Of course, most models are meant to make anything they wear look pretty, so it can be hard to see where their accessories are lacking when all they see is themselves.”

Marinette wanted to desperately be anywhere but where she was standing. She almost wished that someone had bust in with the Bee miraculous and caused a scene just so she could excuse herself.

She’d rather deal with her own mistakes a million fold over than this.

Mayor Andre, for his part, smiled a shaky press smile as he tried to talk his wife down. 

Adrien, fed up with Audrey, grabbed Marinette ’s hand and pulled her away quickly. Natalie spared him a glance before going to converse with his bodyguard.

“Can you believe her!” Adrien simmered. “How cruel can you be to your own child!”

Marinette laughed awkwardly. “I mean, at least we know where Chloe gets it from?”

Adrien rounded on her. “Chloe is not as bad as her!”

Taking a step back, she watched Adrien wide-eyed. He sighed, taking a breath to calm himself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. That display was just awful.”

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up carefully styled locks.

Hesitating, Marinette asked, “Is she… always like that?”

Adrien gave a tense nod. “Since we were young. Chloe always wanted her mother’s support, but well,” he waved his hand back in her direction, “You try reasoning with that.”

Before either could pick the conversation back up the front doors to the building burst open. Carrying comically large scissors and dressed as what could only be called a fashion disaster was an akuma that looked one bad day away from a mental breakdown.

Or, well, in the middle of a breakdown.

“Audrey Bourgeois! You claim to recognize talent when you see it, but failed to see how your own daughter can be exceptional. Well, I am the Queen Killer and if I cannot be exceptional then no one can! I’ll cut your reign to shreds.” The akuma accented her speech with a threatening snip of her scissors before launching forward at the Style Queen.

Before anyone could react, Queen Killer had Audrey between her blades and closed. A thing, white line appeared where the blades connected and, as Queen drew her weapon away, there was a horrifying moment where Marinette was sure Audrey was split into two pieces.

Instead, a dark shadow started spilling out of Audrey, enveloping her body as she screamed. When the shadow dissipates, a twisted, snarling version of Audrey that looked like she was fused together with five other versions of herself appeared. It lashed out at those around her, screeching and clawing at them.

Queen Killer laughed. “Now everyone will see how hideous and cruel you are!”

Marinette jolted out her shock as Adrien roughly pulled her away. This, unfortunately, brought Queen’s attention to them as the rest of the room also began to run. 

“Dupain-Cheng!” If she had any doubt that that was Chloe, she had none now. ”You stole my mother’s love from me!”

As Queen launched forward with her scissors open, Marinette screamed, “That was not my intention! I didn’t know she would ask me to go to New York with her all over a hat!”

Alas, her pleas were not enough. Stuck in her civilian form, Marinette could not outrun the enraged Queen. Twin blades circled around her waist and cut, forcing Marinette to stumble and fall.

Adrien, worried for his friend, stopped and tried to go back for her. But, between a snarling Queen and Marinette urging him to keep running as a dark shadow overtook her, he kept running. The best thing for Marinette would be Chat Noir and Ladybug. He would have time to check on her later.

Marinette , meanwhile, felt the shadows come off her and… she looked the same. For a moment, she was confused. What was the akuma’s power supposed to be?

But then it bubbled up. Nothing physical. No, that would be too easy. As she looked up towards Queen and thought ‘I need to transform into Ladybug’ a wave of crushing doubt and insecurity gripped her throat.

She would just mess up again. Like she had when she started out, when she lost the Bee miraculous, and every time she let someone get harmed by an akuma. There was no way she could do this. Chat Noir would be better off without her.

As the building cleared and Queen ran out to terrorize the fleeing patrons, Marinette stayed on the ground, shaking. What could she do? Make things worse? Disappoint all of Paris? Put Fu and Chat Noir in danger?

Distantly, she heard someone talking to her, urging her to get up and move. The voice disappeared as he heard footsteps and she was lifted into someone’s arms. A hop, skip, and a jump later had her safely placed down on a chair in a private room, looking into the eyes of Chat Noir. His eyebrows were brought together in concern.

“Stay here, okay? I promise Ladybug and I will fix things for you.” He offered a reassuring smile before dashing out of the room.

When she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, Tikki flew out of her pocket. “ Marinette !” The little ladybug placed her paws on her face, getting her to look at Tikki. “Are you okay? What happened after she cut you?”

Shaking her head, Marinette focused on her breathing. ‘C’mon Mari,’ she thought to herself, ‘You can’t let Chat do this alone.’

“I, uh,” she looked back at Tikki, “It’s so bad Tikki. I’m going to mess up and make things worse. Like yesterday with the Bee miraculous! I lost it! Instead of getting help, I lost a potential ally and a powerful magical artifact. If I can’t even keep track of things placed under my care, how can I protect Paris?”

Tikki was at a loss for words. This reminded her so much of the Marinette she first met- unconfident, afraid, and so uncertain in her actions. It was like the cut brought out all the most hurtful parts of herself…

“ Marinette ,” Tikki began, “We all make mistakes. What’s important is working to fix them. Sure, if you do nothing you can’t mess up or disappoint people, but you also can’t grow and succeed. Paris needs its Ladybug, regardless of what the people think of you. I know you can do this. Chat will be there to help you too, I’m sure of it.”

Doubt in her eyes, Marinette nodded. While her doubts and insecurity swirled in her mind, the urge to help others reigned supreme. She had to at least stop the akuma and set things back to normal.

“Alright Tikki,” Marinette swallowed thickly. “Spots On!”

///////////

Chat was not having a good time.

His first thought upon finding Queen snipping people in half with her scissors was that he could easily beat her in combat. What could she do with a pair of large scissors when he had a versatile staff?

A lot, apparently.

As he dodged backwards from another attempt to cut him in half from Queen, he tossed a jab her way. “So is clashing colors the new look, or did I miss the memo?”

Queen huffed at him, “Says the boy in full leather! I would know a fashion disaster when I see one!”

She ran at him again, holding the scissors completely open so she could swipe at him with a blade. Chat blocked it with his staff, before pushing her away as she tried to close the blades on him.

“Excuse you, Queenie!” He retorted. “I’ll have you know that my outfit is purr-fect.”

Clearly, she disagreed, if the groan and slash at him was anything to go by.

What a party pooper.

But what was worse was that he couldn’t get close enough to her to properly disarm her. Nor could he figure out where the akuma was while trying his best to not get cut in half. Chat needed to regroup with Ladybug, but she was nowhere in sight.

Biting his lip, Chat jumped back and up onto a rooftop. Giving Queen Killer a salute, he started away from her.

“Get back here you mangy cat!” Queen simmered on the ground below where he ran off. “You better bring back Ladybug so I can take you both off your high horse!”

///////////

Pollen was not the best at sneaking around. Not for lack of trying, of course, but people were ingrained to see a blur of yellow and the sound of buzzing and think ‘Bee!’ It didn’t help that she was larger than the average bee.

What did help, however, was people being too busy staring at an akuma running full tilt down the street to pay attention to the yellow being that was trying to stay unnoticed behind them. So Pollen got a front row seat to Queen’s akuma speech and display of her powers. When Chat Noir showed up she waited for her chance to talk to him or Ladybug whenever she came around.

And, well, there went Chat running for his life.

Pollen sighed. At least flying along rooftops was less obvious than following an akuma.

After shooting past building after building, she manages to get closer to the black blur that was Chat Noir. He was vaulting along, keeping an eye out as he worked on not plummeting to the ground. When he finally stopped to catch his breath, Pollen nearly sped past him.

As Chat retracts his staff and starts to dial Ladybug, Pollen drops down in front of him. “Oh!” He stumbles back, “Hello? Who are you?”

Pollen smooths out her fluff and offers a paw. “I am Pollen, Kwami and Order and Subjugation, and the one who dwells inside the Bee Miraculous. You must be Chat Noir. A pleasure.”

Chat, mystified, offers a finger. “Nice to meet you. I thought you would be with Master Fu and your miraculous?”

“Ah, well,” Pollen tilted her head. “Did Ladybug not tell you?”

He pinched his lips. “No?”

“Ladybug lost my miraculous in the fight with Style Queen. You weren’t there, though, were you?” Pollen considered him for a moment. “I don’t blame you for that, nor do I blame Ladybug for losing my miraculous. But that isn’t important right now.”

Accepting the hand Chat placed out for her, she settles into his palm. “I need to talk to you and Ladybug, but the akuma is our first priority. What do you know about them?”

“Well,” Chat began, “I believe it is Chloe Bourgeois. But as for the akuma,” He scratched the back of his head with his free hand, “I’m not too sure. My current two guesses are her scissors or her hat, since she normally doesn’t have either on her.”

Pollen nodded thoughtfully, despite having seen the akuma land in Chloe’s sunglasses. There was no way she could tell Chat Noir without him having at least some suspicions as to who she was with at the moment. At the very least, he could narrow it down to who had been around Chloe when she transformed.

Chat pushed on. “Even if we managed to subdue Queen Killer and get the akuma out, we wouldn’t be able to do anything until Ladybug gets here to purify it. The best we can do is wait and try to stop as much damage as possible.”

“Actually,” Pollen butt in, with a slow smile spreading across her face, “I may have a solution to that.” Chat tipped his head to the side. “I can immobilize people with my power. As long as I can hold onto the power they will remain frozen, or until I touch them to let them free.”

He perked up, stars in his eyes. “Like how Plagg can use Cataclysm when he’s himself! That’s perfect, Pollen.”

She nodded eagerly, before stopping. “Wait, did you not know kwamis can use their own power?”

Chat looked confused, but nodded slowly. “I didnt figure that out until he used it to free from an akuma a while ago.”

Pollen buzzed, frustrated, before saying, “The Guardian should have told you that! It’s important for a holder to know about their miraculous and kwami, especially a trouble maker like Plagg.”

“Well,” Chat scuffed his foot on the roof, “I don’t speak to the Guardian that much. Last time we talked was when he came to my house and talked about the Miracle Box and such.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Pollen moved out of Chat’s hand and floated in an irritated circle. “You should be just as informed as Ladybug. It’s not fair to you or her to pile information on one of you and expect the other to just go along with it!”

Chat shrugged. “That’s how it’s been for most of it. Besides, I trust Ladybug with my life.”

“But, when keeping so many secrets, can she trust hers with you?” Pollen replied with a meaningful look in her eyes.

She received no response. Instead of dwelling on the matter, she urged Chat to get back to Queen Killer. They still had a job to do, after all.

/////////

Ladybug arrived on the scene to find Chat nowhere in site and Queen Killer happily snipping at random citizens. Great. Before she can engage with the akuma, she hesitates. Could she really do this without Chat? What if she lost her miraculous because she let her civilian self get hit with the akuma’s power?

Shaking her head, she prepared to head in when a flash of black caught her eye. The familiar form of Chat pole vaulting across the rooftops to her left filled her with a sense of relief. She really, seriously needed to keep it together.

Taking a second, she throws her yo-yo to wrap around a chimney in Chat’s path. Her heart races as she tests the line and jumps. Shit, shit, shit, she’s gonna hit the wall, then Queen will notice her, then-

She made it on the roof with two scraped knees. Not flawless, but still unseen. Chat landed beside her, more than happy to see his Lady. A frown creased his brow as he took in her demeanor.

“Are you alright?” He checks her over for wounds, but comes back with nothing beyond a few scratches. “Did something happen?”

Ladybug goes to dismiss the idea before Tikki’s words ring in her head again ‘Chat will be there to help you too.’ Shaking her head, she gave Chat a grimace. “Queen managed to cut me while I was in my civilian form. Even after I transformed the effects are bothering me. It’s… brought back a lot of my insecurity and confidence issues. But we can do this, I know we can.”

Chat nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. And some back up.”

“Backup?”

A yellow figure lands on Chat’s shoulder. “Hello, Ladybug. It’s nice to see you again.”

Blinking in shock, Ladybug exclaims, “You’re the kwami from the Bee miraculous! Oh god, another thing I messed up, I’m so, so sorry.”

Pollen holds up a paw, stopping her. “It’s not your fault. You were in a tight situation and did the best you could. Besides, I’m with someone who may be a good ally in the future. They just need time.”

Chat and Pollen brought Ladybug up to speed on their ideas, to which she poked and prodded at. They exchanged glances before nodding and Chat and Pollen split. Still standing on the roof, Ladybug calls her Lucky Charm. It dropped from the sky as a red and black spotted crowbar.

Keeping the crowbar in hand, Ladybug drew Queen’s attention with a hit to her scissors. “Hey!” Ladybug called out, “Don’t you know scissors are dangerous?”

Queen Killer growled back, “Of course you would start preaching at me, little miss perfect. I bet everyone in the whole city loves you. Well I’m here to cut your heroic tales short!” She launched forward, bouncing off a car and digging her scissors into the side of the building to propel her up to the rooftop to get on Ladybug’s level.

Ladybug, in a quick move, flipped over her and flung her yo-yo around the scissors to send Queen flying back to the ground. Before she could hit a lamppost, Queen dug the blades into the street to slow herself down, only to run back to Ladybug.

‘Good,’ Ladybug thought to herself, ‘Keep coming.’

In the moments before Queen got back in range, Ladybug took a moment to eye the area around her for clues on how to use the Lucky Charm. Nothing stood out, so she sprung from the rooftop to land before Queen and send her yo-yo swinging at her feet.

Queen, quick to the punch, lowered her scissors to cut the yo-yo string. Ah, what a lovely and easy mistake to make when fighting a person who used scissors with a string based weapon. Panicking, Ladybug brought up the crowbar to stop the scissors from striking her.

Pulling back, Queen raced in again with the blades open, looking to trap Ladybug the same way she had Chat in their fight before. Ladybug readied her crowbar, bringing it up to block again. Queen smirked, shutting the blades in a smooth motion. By luck or skill, Ladybug managed to sidestep the action, getting the crowbar’s hook caught in between the blades. Seeing her chance, Ladybug used the hook to pull the scissors from Queen’s hands.

Spitting a curse, Queen abandoned her scissors to tackle Ladybug.

Chat, meanwhile, called forth his Cataclysm and rushed the scissors, destroying them with a touch. When no akuma appeared, he looked back confused. Queen kept fighting Ladybug, managing to get the upper hand as Ladybug hesitated in kicking her off. As Queen pinned Ladybug’s hand with one of her own and reached for her miraculous Chat sprung towards her.

He wouldn’t make it in time.

But Queen stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide beneath the wide-brimmed hat. Pollen popped up from behind her, giving Ladybug a little giggle. “Sorry, I meant to do that a little earlier.”

This time with no reservations, Ladybug pushed Queen off of her. Chat bounded over to her to help her up, to which she shook her head and pointed at Queen. “Find the akuma.”

Receiving a nod, she picked herself up to retrieve the cut off part of her yo-yo. Chat, in this time, took Queen’s hat and ripped it. For good measure, he broke the goggles on them as well. Lo and behold, the akuma haphazardly fluttered out. Before it could escape, Ladybug snapped it up in her yo-yo.

“Bye, bye little butterfly,” Ladybug murmured, letting it fly off into the sky. With a nod to her partner, she threw her crowbar into the air and let forth the rush of ladybugs to fix the damage done.

Pollen, seeing Chloe safely de-akumatized, gave Chat a little nod before rushing off. He made a move to go after her when a bawl reached his ears. Chloe, freshly purified, was trying her best to keep it together. But as Chat knelt to help her to her feet, she jumped him for a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry that I was too pathetic to not get akumatized again. My mother was right about me, I’m so, so sorry.”

Chat rubbed her back slowly. “What your mother said was cruel and unfounded. You’re not pathetic at all, Chloe.”

“And it’s definitely not your fault. Even the strongest, most exceptional people can get akumatized,” Ladybug added, “Besides, even heroes have bad days.” Not that she considered Chloe even close to a hero.

Andre chose this moment to come bustling through the doors of the building behind them. “Princess, my darling!”

Seeing that she was in good hands, Chat and Ladybug pound their fists together and part ways.

Ladybug, however, is stopped by Pollen two blocks over. “There you are! Thank goodness. Can you show me where your miraculous is so I can return it to Master Fu?”

“No,” Pollen told her quietly, “But I want to ask you to trust me. I’ve found someone who needs my help. Maybe one day she could be a great hero, maybe not. But this person has gone through a lot of heartbreak and I don’t want to be another person that leaves her behind. I want you to tell Fu that I have decided to stay with them.”

“Wait, but what about secrecy? How will we know they won't spread the word about the miraculous or accidentally lead Hawkmoth to you?” Ladybug fretted, cupping her hands for Pollen to land in.

“I haven’t told her the transformation words, yet.” Pollen stroked her hand reassuringly. “That way if things go south I can still manage to keep my power from being abused. Please, Ladybug, trust me.”

Biting her lip, Ladybug hesitantly nodded. “Please stay safe, Pollen. If you ever need my help don’t hesitate to ask.”

Giving her a bright smile, Pollen floated up to nuzzle Ladybug’s forehead. After giving parting words, they went off in different directions.

Hopefully, Pollen hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

[authoressofdarkness]

His Perfect Model - Chapter 1

Tony doesn’t need the money from porn shoots, Lord knows. It’s just a fun, extremely well paying side gig. But when he somehow acquires permanent... ah, custody... of the omega from his latest shoot, he knows he’s found his perfect model. And their fun together is only beginning. It may take him some time to convince Peter of that, but really, he’s not too worried.

Read on AO3 here. Notes, warnings, and Chapter 1 under the cut.

Notes: Hello hello! I'm back again! This is another random plot bunny that I've been fidgeting with for a while, but I was eventually convinced to get it up sooner rather than later, so here it is! This first chapter is very explicit, and it probably will be rather smutty most of the way through. Not sure how long this will be yet or what it will deal with, but just for transparency, there may be talk of past trauma that could extend to noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, human trafficking, and more. I'll tag each chapter accordingly as we get there, but none of it should be too explicit. Also, anyone familiar with GMSTS will be familiar with how I write ABO, but, as simply as possible, omegas have vaginas, alphas have cocks, and betas are what we would consider "binary." Again, I say so ahead of time just in the interest of transparency so I don't accidentally trigger anyone's dysphoria. Aaaanyway, if you've made it through my rambling and are still interested, yay! Thank you for being here, read on, and I hope you enjoy! <3

He tries not to judge.

That was probably why he gets hired for so many gigs. That and his insane amount of talent, but — well. Anyone could have that amount of talent with working with equipment if they tried. Now the fact that he builds his own… that is something special, he knows.

And, really, his technical prowess was what pays his bills more than anything, and is what made him rich. That, and his father’s name, but he tries to keep that part more under wraps. He’d turned away the responsibility that normally came with being a Stark a long time ago; but the intelligence and the mechanical prowess is practically in his blood. Unable to be rejected.

Anyway, the point is, he doesn’t need to do porn shoots; yet he still enjoys taking these side jobs. He always had, even on his way to the top, and he never made any attempt to hide it.

He doesn’t just shoot porn, of course. He’d lend his camera skills to anyone who asks and has the money to back up the offer. But of course the dirty jobs tend to be his favorites. Any alpha that says they don’t like to pose an omega how they like and look at their pretty pussy for any amount of time — and get paid the big bucks to do it — was certainly a liar.

And yeah, he takes some weird jobs included in that. But he doesn’t ask many questions except on the preferences for stylings of the job, and he’s kinky enough himself to never dream of judging the extremism of it, so… yeah, he makes pretty good money.

Today might be testing the extent of it, though.

The scene he is shooting today isn’t particularly extreme or out of the ordinary, on first glance. The omega was to be strapped to a chair with a wand tied in place to tease his pussy, and Tony is supposed to capture it in photo and on video as his torture goes through stages of multiple denials until he’s hypersensitive and begging to stop. The rest was put as to be determined based on the way it comes out.

It is far from the craziest thing he’s ever shot, and he planned it out easily enough, with a few of his favorite toys and set pieces, and he’s easily ready to go.

The weird part starts when the omega gets there.

It’s apparent immediately that this is no porn star. Aside from his experience in the field and the number of them he actually knew from it, Peter doesn’t carry himself like one. He is small and shy, with a lithe, gorgeous body, as Tony can see from the moment the two gruff alphas accompanying him strip him out of the poor excuse for a covering the omega had been wearing. All he was left in then was a slip, and it’s sheer fabric did nothing to hide the pretty nude form underneath.

Most people arrived in normal clothes and then would either change or strip.

The second thing was that he is already bound. Again, unusual. Clearly he hadn’t driven himself, of course, but… this must be a really elaborate scene for him to already be tied up. And the rope isn’t even the good stuff; it’s plain and grainy, certainly hurting his wrists and not at all his color. Tony always used rope that complimented the style of the scene and the person’s skin. It would be a waste not to.

Peter is gorgeous, and he could have used a lot of colors, admittedly. But the boy is delicate and pale — his pussy much the same in the photos — and so he’d chosen a light pink, one that didn’t wash out his already pale form and almost matched the pretty color of the soft bits he’d been paid to pay special attention to. It’s easy enough to match the background of the scene and the colors of the toys and rope together, thematically.

But that aside, all of the choices up to this point were strange. Stranger than he’s used to. But he makes it a point not to say anything. He’s not being paid to judge.

Even if Peter looks almost scared of the two men he came in with. Even if something rings off about this whole gig.

Tony isn’t stupid, but he doesn’t care much for the loss of business — at least — pushing for the truth would cause. So he pushes the thoughts down and finally approaches the omega.

“Hi, princess. Gentlemen.” He kneels down to be at Peter’s level. “My name’s Tony. I’m going to be the one taking your photos, honey. Can I get you anything before we start? A water? Bathroom break?” The omega silently shakes his head. “Alright. Let's get started then.” He holds out a hand to help him up.

Peter takes it, and Tony helps him to his feet and guides him over to the chair. “Now we’re going to start with some photos on the floor and make our way into the chair. I’m going to change out your ropes. I want you to leave the slip on, for now.” It’s white, a nice color to highlight the details of the creamy skin underneath, and doesn’t contrast with his ropes, either.

He cuts the bonds on the omega’s wrists and reties them in front of him with the pink rope, then has him lay down on the floor, propping his ankles up on the edge of the chair so the slip falls back to expose creamy thighs and stomach and the top of that tantalizing slit from above his pressed-together thighs.

Tony suppresses the urge to purr. “Perfect.” He moves behind the chair and starts taking pictures, ignoring the stir of arousal in his gut at the sight of the gorgeous omega as he does, throwing out occasional changes in position for him to follow.

Peter, for his part, is pretty demure throughout all the photos. He’s quiet — whether shy or afraid to speak, Tony doesn’t ask — but he doesn’t look sullen or make any faces to spoil the photos. He just complies with Tony’s directions, usually silently or with an occasional “yes, sir,” allowing Tony to direct and shoot him in a dozen different positions before allowing him to actually sit in the chair.

Feet on the chair. Legs crossed. Legs open. Spread your folds with your bound hands. One leg up, then the other. Knees bent. To your chest, pussy exposed wide without your fingers. Pull the sheer over it for a few shots. Hold the wand to it. Hands above your head. Hold still while I get shots of it resting there. Tied with the rope like it will be in the video. Lick the wand. Close your eyes and hold it there. Take off the slip. Repeat a few sultry shots without it.

Finally, he picks up the slip and helps the omega to his feet. “You can sit in the chair now. Put the slip back on for a few minutes.”

Peter nods and does as he’s told, and Tony watches, unable to help himself. He doesn’t find himself incredibly attracted to a lot of his clients, at least after so long of doing it, and what with his tastes being so specific… but Peter seemed to hit everything on the head, and god, it was a bit of a problem for him. He’s supposed to be setting up his camera right now, but instead he’s admiring the curve of the omega’s spine and his plump ass as he heads for the chair he’s going to tie him to and-

He snaps out of it. He’s going to shoot the video he’s being paid to shoot, and that’s it. No fantasies allowed. At least not until after when he’s jerking off to the memory of this.

He sets up his video camera, then returns to the little omega, waiting patiently for him to come to him so they could shoot the scene. Tony grabs some more of the pink rope, setting about tying the pretty thing down, wrists to the arms, ankles to the legs, back to the back, and the wand added with a loop through the middle tying his back to the chair, letting it sit perfectly against Peter’s pretty pussy. He tops it off with a blindfold, and purrs at the completed look.

“Perfect. I’m going to get a few more shots before we start filming. Just relax.” He can smell the omega starting to get slick, even just from the wand resting against his pussy. He definitely knows what’s coming. Even though it’s not Tony’s idea, or Tony’s omega, even, he’s getting slightly excited at the thought of being in control and being the one to do this to him.

He gets a lot more excited when they actually start.

He does. He can’t help it. From the moment he turns the toy on and watches the omega’s head loll back in pleasure, eyes fluttering under the blindfold, he’s rock hard in his pants, watching, smelling the omega’s slick as he goes from slightly wet to absolutely drenched and dripping down his own thighs by the third denial. And his moans… the way he meekly whines out for alpha and those little cries of pleasepleaseplease! when he’s on the cusp of orgasm… it’s pornographic, there’s no other word for how obscene and arousing it is, matched only by the way his lithe body squirms in his bonds, fabric around his eyes darkening from tears-

By the fifth denial, Tony is convinced he could probably come in his pants right now from this, if he let himself. He’s half-ass tempted to. The alphas that had brought him in have stepped outside, and Peter is slumped as much as he can be and panting in the chair, still blindfolded, just waiting for him to turn it back on. It would be so easy to rub himself to a quick and dirty orgasm out of any of their lines of sight.

He doesn’t. He turns the toy back on and lets his cock twitch and strain in his pants at the sound of Peter’s broken cry instead, finding this edging to be just as satisfying for him as how it’ll probably end for Peter. At least it’s fair.

One of the alphas that brought him in returns sometime around the eighth denial. He joins him off to the side this time.

“How many?” He sounds almost bored, eyeing the crying and squirming omega with minimal interest.

Tony tried to keep his voice even as he answers, despite the arousal threatening to roughen it. “When I turn it on again, it’ll be nine.”

“Good.” He nods, looking satisfied.

There’s a long moment of silence except for the pitiful whimpering of the omega. Tony breaks it again. “How many times am I supposed to deny him?”

“At least ten.”

“And then?”

The other alpha turns to him. “That depends on you, I think.”

“On me?” He can’t hide his surprise. The paperwork had said to be determined, yes, but he assumed it was to be determined based on what Peter could take. “What do you mean?”

The older alpha gives him a once over and purposefully scents the air before answering. “You want him. Don’t you?”

It’s not like there’s any way of hiding it, but his cheeks still tint pink. “Yes. Who wouldn’t?”

“Well, you have a chance at him before anyone else.” The alpha tilts his head. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Excuse me?” Tony straightens. “Pay for what?”

“Him.” The alpha tosses his head in Peter’s direction.

Tony lets out a little breath. God, is it tempting, but he doesn’t need anyone else used whore, no matter how pretty he may be. “He’s pretty, I grant you, but I’m not paying to fuck an omega used by how many others before me. Thanks, but no thanks.” It sounded crude, but really. Why would he take a risk like that?

“He hasn’t been. He’s fresh meat.” The other male shrugs. “The shoot is for material to advertise him. He goes online for sale tonight… unless you pay me for him right now.”

Tony doesn’t need him to say it flat out to understand that his suspicions were right — there’s definitely something illegal going on here. And he has a choice.

But what kind of choice is it, really? He only knows two people’s names out of what is surely a ring, and in all likelihood, they’re fake names. These two alphas probably wouldn’t have shared this with him if they weren’t confident that he wants Peter enough to take it. And even the fact they were here and they did this shoot would be enough to get him in trouble, even if he turned it in himself. Not to mention the fact that they know his real identity. These two men or someone else would surely come back after him if he tried to turn them in — if they didn’t kill him flat out.

But if he bought Peter and kept quiet… it was better for him, better for business, and surely better for Peter. He couldn’t be as bad as whoever the boy would end up being sold to on the black market.

Tony meets his eyes. “How much?”

The alpha grins, pretending to think about it. “To have first go round at him? A couple grand. I’ll go back outside and let you have him until sundown, if you give us our material and the cash. To keep him? Well, I still want the photos for promotional material, but… a mil or two.”

Two whole million. For a pure, untouched, gorgeous, terrified omega straight out of his wet dreams.

Tony swallows. It’s hardly a decision. Not when he’s smelling how wet and ready Peter is sitting a few feet away and he knows he could have the money out of the bank as quick as a phone call. It’s not as if he doesn’t have it. “How soon do you want the cash?”

~~~

By the time Peter reaches the tenth denial, Tony officially owns him.

The two other alphas leave with a flash drive with the photos, the money in an account, and the promise that they’ll get the finished product of the video soon.

Soon, but not today, or the next couple, probably. He’s going to be a bit busy.

He fixes the angle of the camera so it’s situated mostly below the neck; the focus of it, of course, on the omega’s creamy open thighs, and the wet pussy forced open between them with the wand. Then he moves around, approaching the omega from the back while he’s slumped in the chair, panting and crying weakly.

He slides the blindfold off the omega’s wet eyes from behind, and Peter immediately straightens, tugging at his bonds. “H-hello? Alpha?” His voice is thick and raspy from crying.

“Hi, honey,” Tony purrs, setting his hands on the omega’s shoulders, enjoying the way he jumps at the touch as he runs them down his body. Deft fingers free the wand from its loop, and Peter sobs in relief.

“Oh alpha, thank you, gods- ngh- “

Peter starts to thank him for removing the wand, but chokes off with a broken cry when it returns, this time in the alpha’s hand. Tony smiles at the response as Peter’s head lolls back into his shoulder, turning it up a setting and shushing him gently at the sob that tears from Peter’s lips again.

He runs his other hand back up Peter’s body and settles it against his chin, grip firm on his throat, forcing him to keep his head back and on his shoulder. He drops his lips to the omega’s ear. “You can sob and struggle all you want to. I’m not going to let you come. And I’m not going to stop torturing you until you stop all of it. Don’t cry, don’t struggle, don’t beg me to let you ruin yourself. When you start saying please and thank you for the pleasure and for what I’m doing to you, and be a respectful, obedient omega, we might stop.”

“It hurts-“ Peter whimpers. “Alpha, daddy , please… I’ll do anything- oh- “ His face presses against Tony’s chest with a tortured cry. His thighs tremble viciously against Tony’s hand, back arching a little over the chair.

Tony feels a pang in his chest, but presses on. They have to finish this video before he starts going soft, at least. “You’ll sit still and be quiet. Here. I’ll even help you.” The hand not holding the wand in place comes up and covers his mouth, holding his head firmly against his shoulder. “Now be good, and I’ll make it stop.”

It takes time. Another few denials, kind of time, but it doesn’t matter. He has as long as needed. He’d given the omega an order, and he’d learn to listen, or they’d keep going all night.

Eventually, shaking and exhausted, Peter goes limp against him, eyes closed, pitiful little sobs audible but no words even trying to come from behind the alpha’s hand, still clamped on his mouth. Tony makes a triumphant little sound, and pulls the wand away. “Look at me, omega.”

Peter’s eyes flutter open, red and wet, fixing on Tony.

“Since you’ve listened, now, we’re going to be done. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and I want you to thank me. Don’t stop thanking me, and don’t say please, again, or we’ll stop until you can get control of yourself. Am I clear?” A nod against his hand. “Good.” He lets him go.

Peter takes a small breath. “Thank you.” His voice is barely a hoarse whisper.

“You’re welcome, omega.” Tony presses a kiss to his neck and lets the wand trail back up Peter’s thigh, suppressing a smirk at the way his breath hitches again. “Again.”

“Thank you, Alpha.”

“Good boy. Remember, don’t beg. Just be grateful.” He pauses, then slides the blindfold back on his eyes. He knows they want his full body in this shot, but he isn’t too keen on the possibility of the omega being recognized, either, knowing what he does now. Then he steps away just enough to tilt the camera back up, allowing it to get Peter’s face, and a small portion of his own neck and torso behind him.

When he returns, he takes his chin, turning his head toward the lens. “Look toward the camera, now. Think about how many people are going to see this, honey, and try show them how good you are. Let everyone see how pretty you look when you’re coming, just this once, before I take it all for myself.”

“Yes, alpha. Thank you, alpha.”

“Good boy.” With that, he turns on the wand again.

The omega’s body jumps visibly in the camera lens when the toy finds his swollen clit again. He lets out a broken little cry, but his hips don’t move, even as he starts to tremble again immediately. “Alpha- feels so good, Alpha, thank you- so close, Alpha, so close, thank you- oh god, oh- ngh- “

The force of the orgasm rocks his little body, and he nearly screams at the intensity before going completely limp in the chair again, clearly seeing stars, seeming to have blacked out.

Tony flicks the toy off and lets Peter’s head go, watching it fall to his chest as the omega pants and struggles to regain his senses. He walks over to the camera, taking it off its stand and coming closer.

He trails his fingers from the inside of Peter’s bound leg, up his core, pausing for just a moment to tease that oversensitive little bud, tearing a strangled cry out of Peter that he shushes, and then clear up to his face. He cups his cheek, stroking it as the omega’s unfocused eyes try to open under the fabric, clearly barely holding on to consciousness.

“You know you want one,” he murmurs, just loud enough to be heard. “So come get it.”

Then he shuts the camera off, setting it aside and turning completely back to Peter. It was time to get the omega home.

Taglist: @snowstark @serrabloodsong​

Let me know if you would like to be added! <3

[maxwell-grant]

Thoughts on the Shadow's Doppelganger, Lamont Cranston

The funny thing about Cranston in the original stories is that, yeah, one of the most famous scenes across all Shadow media is the “Lamont Cranston Talks to Himself” chapter in The Shadow Laughs, where we learn that The Shadow is not Lamont Cranston, but has usurped his identity, and now shows up at his bedside looking like him, talking like him, knowing more about his own life than he himself does, and ordering him to leave town, effectively blackmailing him into letting him use his face. It’s a very iconic scene that exemplifies a lot of what makes The Shadow unique as a character, and you can imagine why so many adaptations have gone with the idea of Cranston being either a hapless stooge bullied into submission, or an actual villain, because that whole scene is very much a horror movie scenario. 

Thing is, none of them seem to remember how Cranston and The Shadow’s relationship developed past this. I’ll post this excerpt from Atoms of Death:

"Good morning, Cranston," came a quiet tone from the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, yourself," returned Cranston, rubbing his eyes without noticing the visitor.

"You should say: Good morning, myself," chuckled The Shadow, dryly.

Cranston was pulling down the sleeves of his pajama jacket. He sat bolt upright, staring. Then a slow smile showed on his lips; one that was almost a replica of The Shadow's.

"So it's you," remarked Cranston, sleepily. "Well, I knew that last night. It was about time we crossed paths again. Well, old man, you landed me in for plenty this trip."

Cranston shoved bedclothes aside and perched on the edge of the bed. He found cigarettes on the telephone table; The Shadow supplied a flame from a lighter before Cranston could ignite a match. The millionaire noted that The Shadow's lighter bore the initials "L. C." 

"You handle every detail, don't you?" questioned Cranston in admiration. “Jove! I remember the first time I met you. In this very room. You dropped cloak and hat and left me looking at my own face as plainly as if I had seen it in a mirror. Just as it is today."

"And I advised you," recalled The Shadow, in Cranston's own tone, "to take a trip abroad, while I used your identity. You were a bit exasperated at first."

"I must admit that I was. I threatened to have you arrested, as an impostor, until you proved that you knew more about my affairs than I did. I really believe that if it had come to a showdown, I would have been proven the impostor and you the genuine Lamont Cranston. Jove!"

"Jove," repeated The Shadow, quietly, "You have acquired that expression recently, Cranston. I shall remember it for future reference. You have a penchant for acquiring anglicisms during your sojourns in British colonies. Jove!"

"Bounder and blighter," laughed Cranston. "Don't forget those. I still use them occasionally."

Or this excerpt from The Hydra, which is an incredible book where the chemistry between the two really shines:

Lamont Cranston woke up and wondered why his head still whirled. It took him about half a minute to learn that the motion came from the fact he was riding in his limousine. Someone must have put him back in the limousine and Stanley was driving him home. 

He didn't have to guess who had helped him on his way, for at that moment Cranston heard a low-toned laugh beside him. He turned to see the black-cloaked figure of The Shadow.

"What did you hit me with?" asked Cranston. "All four of your automatics?"

"I'm only carrying a pair tonight," replied The Shadow

Look at these two dorks, just palling around and getting into shenanigans and The Shadow outright joking around Cranston, like they are just two old chums having a laugh at the weirdness of their lives. The “real” Cranston didn’t show up very often in the original stories, especially in the last stories when Lamont Cranston essentially became the real identity of The Shadow, but when he did, part of what makes him stand out as his own character is that he’s funny. Gibson gets a lot of mileage out of Cranston as this guy who is completely nonchalant and chill about all the weird shit that happens to him, even in The Hydra after he kills a man with an elephant gun, he’s still more or less the same, he largely just walks out of it with a newfound realization. 

Relieving Cranston of the elephant gun, The Shadow steered his friend into the closet. Hauling the big weapon with him, The Shadow opened the door to meet and dismiss arriving servants who had dashed upstairs when they felt the house quake. 

"Whenever I see this gun," began Cranston, coming from the closet, "I'll remember what I did with it -" 

“Quite right," interposed The Shadow approvingly. "What you did to Mance will make amends for any elephants you may have killed. Too bad Mance didn't bring along a few more Hydra Heads.”

Slowly, understanding dawned on Cranston. He'd never compared his big-game hunts with The Shadow's quests for men of crime. He felt that The Shadow's cause was justified, but it had seemed outside the field of sport. It still was, but Cranston, now that he had dealt with a murderer who deserved to die, was realizing that his game hunts were more deserving of rebuke.

His encounters with The Shadow gradually changed Cranston from a useless millionaire wasting his resources and talents on idle pursuits, to...still largely a useless millionaire, except his resources and talents are no longer wasted and he’s gradually grown into a useful ally and friend to The Shadow. The Shadow tends to have that effect on people who work by his side and even Cranston, the guy whose main role in his organization is to just stay away and be useless somewhere else, can’t help but change a little into a better person when he appears. 

There’s an interesting article written by Bob Sampson called “The Third Shadow” which refers to the Bruce Elliot run of The Shadow Magazine, which is incredibly maligned by fans and not without reason, the stories all largely suck and the Shadow bears little resemblance to his former self, instead mostly feeling like a diet take on the radio show Lamont, more of an average detective. The theory Sampson puts out is that, during this period, it was actually Lamont Cranston who became active as The Shadow while Allard was busy overseas, and I definitely like this theory. It makes sense specially considering The Hydra sets up for Cranston to become more pro-active and serious:

While not the towering master-mind of Allard, he does become the next best thing: A post-war sleuth. He even indulges in wearing the cloak and slouch hat from time to time (to varying degrees of effectiveness), while trying to laugh like Allard (also to varying degrees of effectiveness) as if to fulfill that forbidden fantasy until he finally gets it out of his system. After all, The Shadow pretended to be him, why not the other way around?

As Bob Sampson put it: “It is always Cranston who explains all and takes the credit”. 

Probably very cathartic for Lamont, who for the last 18 years was relegated to being a distant supporting player in his own life. Cranston is still in contact with the agents however. He even receives "assignments" from Burbank. 

This entire arrangement could only be with The Shadow's tacit approval. Let us remember, Cranston was not merely some insipid fop. He certainly had done his own share of exploring and was indeed a hunter. He could handle a variety of firearms, was familiar with exotic peoples and their customs, knew how to stalk dangerous animals through the jungle and veldt, but he was not, nor ever claimed to be, a master secret-agent and soldier.

I think it is fitting that the writing is completely different for this period as well. Not the enigmatic journalistic style of Allards exploits, but the witty, modern champagne fizz of Cranston's odyssey in a Post-War world. He feels a full range of emotions. In the Gibson stories, The Shadow is at arms length. In the Elliott stories, Cranston is sitting right next to you on a train or an airplane or roadster. 

It’s also interesting to consider how Lamont Cranston has basically become the true name of The Shadow in pop culture. Often times it’s the name people use when they specifically want to reference The Shadow, the supposed “Ghost of Gay Street” hauntings in Gibson’s former apartment took the form of Lamont Cranston, and even in the stories, more and more people became aware of it as the years went by (which also helps reinforce the idea that the “real” Cranston eventually took to acting as a fill-in for The Shadow, to draw attention away from the real Shadow’s operations), and Gibson even mentioned a few times that Cranston was The Shadow’s “favorite” identity along with Arnaud. Which is kinda fascinating to think about and does hint at some weird underlying aspects of The Shadow’s psyche, that his favorite identity is one not his own.

And at last, there’s these passages from The Whispering Eyes, a book that does not mention Allard once, and the very last Shadow novel: 

From beneath the seat he was taking his black garb. Cloaked and hatted as he stepped from the cab, Cranston merged immediately with the darkness. He had become The Shadow. 

Cranston's switch to his other self could well be attributed to a hypnotic mood. The mental lapses produced through hypnosis were the sort that would often cause a subject to revert to habit. Now, as The Shadow, Cranston was still in what might be termed a haphazard mood. He was skirting through darkness, pausing, changing direction, behaving generally as though avoiding something that did not exist.

Lang had flung away his glasses; his eyes now showed the shining, hypnotic force that the lenses normally softened. He recognized the eyes that met his above a leveled gun muzzle.

The Shadow's eyes, yet strangely Cranston's, for this was one time The Shadow did not care to disguise them.

Which begs the question: Did Cranston succeed in fully becoming The Shadow? Or did The Shadow succeed in fully becoming Cranston?

[kenkamishiro]

Jack Jeanne Playthrough Part 3 (April 5)

1 month later. April 5th in the VN. Kisa is at Univeil and excited she passed the entrance exam. She runs into her childhood friend Yonaga who's also been accepted. He's shocked that Kisa is attending too, but before she can explain Suzu joins them, introduces one each other.

Quartz's theme is "transparency" where many inexperienced performers who haven't specialized yet tend to go.

Onyx = Jacks whose forte is in dance.

Rhodonite = Jeannes who specialize in song.

Amber is where talented and unique students gather.

Suzu theorizes Kisa would be in Rhodonite because of her appearance, himself in Onyx because his physical abilities make him more suitable for dancing than singing or acting. Yonaga would like to be in Quartz.

Yonaga: Quartz...would be nice.

Suzu: I get what you mean!

Yonaga: Huh?

Suzu: Tbh I enrolled in Univeil cause I really admire Tachibana Tsuki, the legendary Jackace of Quartz!

Kisa: ...!

Suzu: That's why I wanna be in the same class as Tachibana Tsuki...come to think of it, your last names are the same.

Kisa: (If people find out I'm related to Tsuki-nii, it might make it even easier for them to discover my identity...! But it might be better than lying poorly...)

Kisa: It's true. It's the same (nonchalantly)

Yonaga: ......

Suzu: Maybe you guys are distant relatives!

Kisa: *nervous laughter*

Yonaga cuts in and says they should go check which class they're in. Kisa thanks Yonaga for the save. Their year is the 78th class of Univeil. All 3 are in Quartz.

Kisa gets called to the headmaster's office.

Chuuza congratulates her and informs her about her admission. The only ones who know that Kisa is a girl is him, Quartz's homeroom teacher Enishi Rokurou, and now Yonaga, Kisa's childhood friend. Chuuza is surprised that someone who knew about Kisa enrolled in the school.

But if anyone else finds out that she's a girl, expulsion. But since a lot of students are feminine, she won't have to go out of her way to act and dress like a boy. He reminds her to build trust with the rest of the students, and aim to become a lead and aim for the top.

Kisa arrives to Quartz's homeroom late.

??: Yes, yes, come right in.

Kisa: (The teacher...? But he's in a student uniform.)

??: You were called in quite loudly during the school announcements. Did you run into any issues on the first day? Theft, robbery, manslaughter, extortion, coercion, or a bank robbery, perhaps...?

(Please watch the clip of this scene. Can you tell he and Furuta share the same VA? 😄)

Fumi: No one like that would be in our school, Kuro.

??: But wouldn't be great to have such a plucky 1st year around, Fuumin! All the world's a stage!

Fumi: And, if the cops came?

??: I concede! Law is what keeps society together.

Kai: ...you two are bothering the 1st years.

Kisa finds a seat by Suzu and Yonaga.

Neji Kokuto (3rd year, 76th class of Univeil) welcomes the 1st year students to Univeil and Quartz. Class leader-slash-scriptwriter-slash-director-slash...all kinds of other things! He provides an info-dump about Univeil for us.

5 performances in total: Rookie, Summer, Fall, Winter, and Univeil Exhibitions. The Rookie Exhibition is where the 1st years take the lead roles, which is going to be held May 30th. Today is April 5th, so less than 2 months remain. Most viewers will watch over them warmly,  but others will be more strict, like journal reporters, critics and avid Univeil fans. Neji will write a script to allow even novices like them to shine on stage. Casting will be announced mid-April. Upper years are also participating and support the 1st years.

Neji: If you have any questions, all you need is to ask. I'm sure all our seniors here will be more than happy to help you.

??: What, no way.

Neji: With some exceptions of course! Mwahaha. Mikki's a 2nd year now, you can be a little nice to your juniors, hm?

??: ...

Kisa notes he looks cute like a doll. Shirota Mitsuki, noted for his singing. He catches Kisa staring at him, and she apologizes.

Neji asks if anyone has any questions. You're given 3 options: 1) How casting is determined, 2) Type of training to be done, 3) No questions.

Casting is based on Neji's subjective judgment. Everything from how they're doing in lessons, campus life, the way they walk, talk, physique, voice, facial expressions. Essentially based on his intuition, which he uses to find gemstones in the rough.

Training I'll explain later, there's gameplay related to it.

Neji finishes his spiel and passes it on to Quartz's homeroom teacher, Enishi. Pretty low energy. Lessons start tomorrow. Class is dismissed.

Suzu meets Kisa outside the Quartz dorms and asks if she's ready to introduce herself to the other students. He notes it's hard to find people since Univeil is so large. They chat for a bit, Suzu asks Kisa to call him by his first name, so Suzu-kun it is.

Inside Yonaga's dorm. He's finished unpacking, though he's still yet to put away his books (on theatre). He asks how Kisa got into Univeil, and she explains what happened. Yonaga says he'll help Kisa to make sure she stays at Univeil. He's glad that Kisa is here with him.

Yonaga: Kisa-chan, about Tsuki-kun...

Kisa: I can't get in touch with Tsuki-nii, but I'm sure he's doing fine wherever he is. 

Yonaga: I see. Yeah, I'm sure he is.

(Isn't that sketchy? Maybe he turned into that weasel with the moon on its belly lol)

Kisa begins her search for the Quartz students. At the Univeil courtyard, Kisa hears Mitsuki singing.

"Within this chest of mine I dance, the rhythm of possibilities"

Kisa: (I'd heard he was lauded for his singing, but he really has a beautiful voice...the lyrics paint the scene in my head.)

Mitsuki: ...could you not stare at me like that? It's uncomfortable.

Kisa: Oh, I'm sorry!

Mitsuki: Oh, you again. The 1st year who came in late.

Kisa: Yes. My name is Tachibana Kisa. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Mitsuki: Huh...you've got a face like a girl.

Kisa: Eh? Y-yes, I suppose so.

Mitsuki: A high-pitch voice. A delicate figure. And a Jeanne at that. At least be aware of your own features.

Kisa: I-I'm sorry.

He sighs and introduces himself. 2nd year, 77th class of Univeil. A Jeanne and a tresor (songstress/diva) of Quartz. VA is Kajiwara Gakuto (Asta). Kisa compliments him on his singing.

Mitsuki: So you were eavesdropping.

Kisa: I-I'm sorry.

Mitsuki: Well, not like I care either way. Later.

Kisa: He left...I guess he doesn't really like interacting with people. But his voice really was beautiful.

(If I had to describe Mitsuki's tone, it would be similar to Kenma, but a bit more antisocial lol)

Kisa finds Kai in the forest, seemingly concentrating on something. She decides to come back later, but Kai notices her.

Kai: ...? Quartz's 1st year?

Kisa: Yes! I'm Tachibana Kisa.

Kai: I see, you're...

Kisa: Yes!

(awkward silence between the two)

Kai: Mutsumi Kai, 76th class of Univeil. I'm a 3rd year.

Kisa: So I should call you Mutsumi-senpai!

Kai: Kai is fine. You can call me that around other people too.

Kisa: But...

Kai: ...

Kisa: ...(agrees)

Kai: ...

Kisa: T-then, I'll call you Kai-san!

Kai: Okay.

Kisa notes Kai is the Jackace of Quartz. And since Tsuki was also the Jackace, that means he must be talented too.

Kai: I'm a vessel meant to garnish the Aljeanne. Nothing more, nothing less.

Kisa is confused by his statement. Convo ends.

Kisa runs into Neji next in the hallways. He enters a room then promptly comes back out.

Neji: Welcome!

Kisa: Ah!

Neji: What're you doing in a place like this?

Kisa: I'm going around introducing myself to everyone in Quartz.

Neji invites her into his workroom where he writes his scripts and plans his staging. But he also performs on stage, any male or female role, from a shining prince/princess to old grannies/gramps.

He's currently working on the script for Quartz, but he won't reveal it just yet. Kisa asks if the other class leaders write the scripts like he does, but Neji is a special case, who screenwrites, directs and performs.

Neji: Once you get carried away, you can't see what's going on around you. What we do has no end to it. Acting, dancing, singing, they're fields that you can pursue for a lifetime. You could reach the stars, or merely end up as a master of none. No matter how much time,  it will never be enough. It's a terrifying world out there. That's why it's so engrossing. The stage is a colossal device. The Jacks and Jeannes make up the gears, and I am the craftsman who pieces them together. Let's create a fantastic stage together, Tachibana-kun!

Neji must continue writing, and wishes Kisa the best for the Rookie Exhibition. (Neji definitely talks the most out of the main cast lol. And fast too, talks a mile a minute and tone varies hugely)

Kisa finds Fumi standing languidly in the middle of the dance room, taking deep breaths before beginning to dance. A Japanese-style dance where his movements are gentle, beautiful and brilliant. He comments on Kisa staring intently at him, just like during the entrance exam.

Kisa is surprised that Fumi remembered, despite the number of applicants.

Fumi: I remember you and the red-haired guy well cause you two danced so terribly.

Kisa: Oh...

Fumi: I'm just kidding. Though the red-haired guy really did suck.

Kisa introduces herself, and Fumi pauses at hearing the name Tachibana. 3rd year Takashina Sarafumi, 76th class of Univeil, but he prefers being called Fumi, no senpai honorific attached. Kisa ends up calling him Fumi-san.

Fumi: Let's have fun, Kisa. (leaves)

Kisa: It's overwhelming seeing him up close. So that's the power of an Aljeanne.

Kisa goes to her room excited for her new life at Univeil and retires for the night for her 1st day of classes tomorrow.

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[lokidrabbles]

Perfect Fit (Loki x Reader)

Peter Parker tells reader about what Loki thinks of them.

A/N: Another oneshot, this time featuring Spiderman as the medium for Reader and Loki. Also, my headcanon remains that Loki refers to Peter as Spider Boy. As always, Gender Neutral Reader!

Warnings: None! Fluff n’ such!

Your eyes peered up from your paperwork to catch sight of the fidgeting teen sitting in front of your desk. You empathized with him. It was always some sort of hell fire when Tony or any of the Avengers reprimanded one of the outlier members for failing to complete a mission in time, or failing to follow a inward duty to protect others. Although the consequences of the damage the young Spiderman had left behind were very minimal (extensive property damage, but no one seriously hurt), Tony still upheld his duty as Peter’s pseudo guardian, and laid it hard on him.

As part of the process, you were in charge of filling all the damage reports and costs left behind by the throws of battle, and Tony ordered Peter to witness the extent of his mistake through financial eyes. Or maybe through boring clerical work. Whatever the matter, Peter looked absolutely nervous, probably dreading to hear just how much his antics caused the city (or Tony).

“You know I’m not actually going to tell you how much cash Tony is going to have to fork out, right?” You asked him, causing him to jump slightly.

“What, really? I mean, are you sure? ‘Cus I’m sure Mr. Stark wanted me to, uh, witness the depth of my carelessness.” He stuttered in response.

“I mean yes, you definitely want to be more cautious. But this, in comparison to Tony’s own damage cost analysis, is almost nothing. I’m sure this is just his weird way of wanting to make sure you’re keeping the citizens and yourself safe out there. Also I feel if I tell you, you’re going to be harder on yourself than you need to be.”

Peter let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. I really am sorry about what happened, I did try to be as careful as I could.”

“I’m sure you did kid. The important thing is that building was insured, and that no one was seriously hurt. You good?”

“Yes, yes!” He responded hastily, and you almost felt the weight being lifted from his shoulders. “I’m just glad you’re just as nice as Mr. Loki mentioned you to be.”

You shot a quizzical look at Peter. “Uh, Mr. Loki?”

“Well, yeah? Mr. Thor’s brother? I’ve seen you both together a lot here at the facility.”

Of course you knew who he was talking about, but the fact that Loki made his chipper self into this conversation was odd at best. From your documentation, you found out Loki had been assigned to this small escapade in the outskirts of the city. It actually made you content to see Tony’s mistrust in him begin to dwindle, allowing him to participate in the Avenger’s daily heroism. You could almost see his sour face once he found out this precise squad would be lead by Tony himself. But it made sense.

“What’s Mr. Loki doing gossiping about me to you?” You asked teasingly.

“Nothing bad! I can swear by that!” Peter said, putting his hands up in defense. “I think he just wanted me to feel better.”

“That’s a good one kid.” You chuckled. “It’s a miracle on it’s own to have Loki talk one word to anyone. You have no idea how long it took me to have him say a simple hello to me.”

“Really?” Peter asked, slowly pulling his hands down. “I know Mr. Loki is always very reserved, and he was a little scary at first. But he’s actually kind of, really nice too.”

“You must have a very skewed definition of nice.” You said sarcastically. You jested however. You had experienced Loki’s ‘niceness’ firsthand, in his own bizarre way. Loki’s form of nice didn’t really fall under your typical definition of it. Nice was, for example, telling someone thank you, bringing thoughtful gifts, buying someone lunch. Loki’s nice more so included telling you that you were being stupid and foolish for failing to believe in yourself, and that you should be ashamed of yourself, blah blah blah. He got the right intention, but his delivery was horrible. You cringed at the thought of poor little Peter having to go through that.

“I mean, maybe? He was very helpful during the mission, and his strategy at the whole thing. I was like, wow! He moved so fast in between everything, I had such a hard time keeping up. Though, maybe that’s why I got so distracted in the first place.” He sighed, still blatantly defeated for his error.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself though. For what it is, I think you’re a pretty talented kid too.” You said with a toothy smile. “Loki’s just a big show off though.”

He laughed in a much more relaxed manner. “Thanks, that means a lot. But I must have really taken it hard when Mr. Stark raised his voice at me. Mr. Loki approached me and told me I’d be sent over to your department and how you’d be very welcoming, nice and easygoing.”

You were slightly irritated at how Loki found it so easy to tell Peter all these likeable things about you, yet still failed to do so with you in person. Yet, you knew his reason’s to do so with Peter. Again, Loki wasn’t the most approachable man in the universe, but that didn’t mean he was completely heartless. His words with Peter, while few, were carefully chose to make the young teen feel less anxious. You mentally reminded yourself to give a him a big smooch the next time you saw him.

“I’m actually really happy to hear that.” You said, leaning against the back of your chair. “It looks like he found someone who he’s comfortable with, so that gives me some peace at mind.”

Peter became obviously confused at your comment. “I’m not sure I get that.”

“You said it best at first. He’s a scary fella. But it seems you got to him somehow. So trust me, from now on you got another set of eyes keeping watch of you, making sure you’re safe out there.”

“Actually, I think that make’s me a little more nervous.” He said sheepishly.

“Oh well yeah, be very wary of the God of Mischief.” You said ominously, followed by a snort and giggle.

“Oh, wait. Are you and Mr. Loki dating?”

Your giggles soon stopped, as your mouth remained agape in shock. Again, this was not where you expected a conversation about Loki to go to. You now felt like the nervous teenager in the room instead. Through its entirety, both you and Loki did well at keeping the relationship under wraps, understanding the impending chaos that would ensue if anyone (Tony and Thor) would find out. Well, maybe Loki could care less, but you still had a job and income to maintain. While inner work relationships were not uncommon here, there might be some adherence to having a relationship with someone who used to be on the blacklist.

“No.” You said lowly. Even you wouldn’t have believed that no.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything like that. It’s just, Mr. Loki seemed to have talked fondly of you, and I do see you both together quite a bit. Also you both look really good together, but like not to mean you are dating or anything!”

“Okay Peter! I think we’re done here. I’ll take care of the rest, tell Tony you learned your lesson and all BS, and you can be on your merry little way, yes?” You said, rummaging through you documents, and handing Peter a crumpled up slip with your signature on it.

Peter took the slip slowly, unsure of what he hand uncovered with his innocent introspection. “Are you okay?”

“I’m super.” You feigned through a false smile. “Thanks for dropping by, but I got some more work to do.”

The young teen, still bewildered by your sudden agitation, took it for nothing and soon tip toed out of your small office. You let out a heavy breath and slumped in your chair. It seemed you were in the clear for now, and you figured Peter would be a smart kid and avoid spreading unnecessary rumors. Also for the sole fact that his life would be at risk if Loki were to ever find out he’d tattle at Tony. Still, your mind raced back to the encounter Peter had told you about, and how Loki made a worthwhile impression on the young teen. It warmed your heart knowing someone else seemed to have approved of your gloomy partner.

Towards the end of your shift, you were visited by said partner in efforts to soon spend a relaxing evening at your home. Loki casually seated himself on the seat in front of your desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“I hear the Spider boy paid you a little visit?” He asked playfully.

“He did in fact. He’s a sweet kid.” You responded, eye still glued on your computer screen. “A little naive, but sweet.”

“Stark was relentless on him today. Dare I say, I felt sorry for the lad. He looked like a scared puppy.”

You hummed in a chipper manner. “Yeah, he told me all about it. He also told me how Mr.Loki made him feel a whole lot better today.”

You heard Loki grunt, a way for him to avoid talking about it. You figured it was still awkward for him to hear about his ‘good deeds’ with the type of shit he’s gone through.

“He was very impressed by your skills set. You may have a little fan boy in the making.” You grinned, finally closing your laptop. “I think we should adopt him as our child.”

“You’re hysterical.” He responded flatly.

“I’m mad at you though.” You said as you began to gather your belongings.

Loki raised an eyebrow at you. “Pray tell why?”

“How come you tell Peter all of these nice things about me, yet you always avoid doing so to my face?”

Loki remained quiet, draw back by the nature of your question. You meant to approach the subject in a playful manner, still understanding how Loki had his own special way of showing affection. Yet, you saw how Loki rested his chin at the top of his knuckles, analyzing and concocting an appropriate answer. He looked adorable.

“I suppose I really haven’t done so.” He said admittedly. “What would you like to hear?”

You felt your face heat up. “It doesn’t really work if I tell you what I want to hear. Also, that’s embarrassing.”

“Ah. Of course.”

“Peter told me all the good things though.” You began. “It does make me happy that you think that way about me, instead of an absolute bother.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do hate your incessant ability to self-deprecate. However, everything else the Spider boy mentioned is absolutely true.”

“How lovely to hear.”

Loki stood up and began assisting you with your bags and belongings. You smiled with a strong sense of satisfaction, promptly turning off the lights in your office.

“I also forgot to mention to him that you’re amazing, and incredible.” He whispered behind you. “That I love your smile, and I love how your hand fits so well into mine. That I always look forward to seeing your bright eyes every single day, that I-”

You felt your lips begin to twist in both joy and uneasiness. You jabbed Loki slightly at his side, urging to promptly stop before you explore. “Cut it out. I can’t tolerate this level of cheesiness.”

He smirked mischievously at you. “Then I will have to draw out my admiration for you with the Spider boy if you aren’t able to tolerate it. I’m sure he would be more than happy to hear about it.”

“You better fucking not.”

---

Later in the evening, a young Peter Parker, overseeing the block from the top of a building, took note of Mr. Loki firmly leaving the facility with you, hands hidden, side by side. Upon further inspection, Peter deducted it would be best to keep quiet about this encounter, sensing how distressed you had been about it earlier today. He felt correct about his assumption however; both you and Loki looked good together.

[quicksiluers]

Here’s a dumb story of Grant not talking to Sherman all day and Sherman has no idea why and is stressing way too much about it and Grant is super embarrassed by it when they actually talk about it. (it’s needlessly long so I apoligize in advance) (I also posted it on ao3 if it’s easier to read there)

With special appearances byyyy Rawlins, McPherson and Comstock cause why the hell not

“And this play we saw, it had to be one of the worst things I had ever seen.” 

McPherson raised a brow, a playful smirk on his lips, “Sherman, if it’s not some professional play, you always think it’s the worst thing you’ve seen.” 

Sherman frowned, ignoring the low chuckle coming from Grant beside him, “It’s not my fault all these actors out here are awful.” 

“Maybe you’re being too harsh?” Grant asked, rolling his cigar between his fingers, “You’re standards seem...high.” 

“Should I set my standards low?” The redhead pushed back, glancing back and forth between the two generals, “If that is their job, they should at least try to be good at it.” 

Snorting, McPherson shook his head and waved the older man off, “Out here I’ll just take what I can get.” 

The wood in the fireplace beside them cracked, the embers filtering up through the chimney. A small chill settled through the room, the winter air creeping through the walls. Sherman ignored it, occasionally rubbing his hands together for a small bit of friction. A little cold wasn’t going to bother him when McPherson and Grant were around. 

Memphis was a city he had spent far too much time in. The people were a pain to deal with, the press even worse, and the weather had been awful the past week. Somehow he found himself missing those summer months outside in the Mississippi heat. 

“I’ll take anything over those balls they invite us to,” Grant grumbled, stuffing the cigar in his mouth, “Those are tedious.” 

“At least the food is good,” McPherson argued, crossing his arms, “I’ve only been to a few and that’s usually the best part.” 

“That’s the only good part.” 

Sherman laughed, “Mac when you go to as many of those things as Grant and I have, you’ll understand how absolutely god awful they are.” 

The younger general’s brows pinched together, his thick beard hiding a small pout, “Well if I was invited to more of them…” 

“Trust me when I say you don’t want that invite,” Sherman jabbed his thumb over in Grant’s direction, “Grant finds a way to scurry off half the time when we’re at them, he’s a genius at finding the easy escape.” 

Laughter filled the room. The redhead covered his mouth, trying to control himself. He wished he had that talent, it would come in handy in a number of situations. 

“Plus, those absolutely awful people you have to deal with,” Sherman continued, “The politicians and the men who claim to be with the Union when it’s incredibly easy to tell they are two-timing snakes.”

“I”m shocked you can tell the two groups apart,” McPherson teased, kicking Sherman’s boot, “You seem to describe them the same way.”

“They essentially are.”

A small movement caught his eye and Sherman turned, watching as Grant pushed back from the table. The cigar was set firmly in his mouth, his expression clouded. Their eyes met briefly before Grant looked down at his pocket watch, the beat-up item resting in his palm. 

“It’s getting late. I have some work to do,” Grant snapped the watch shut, nodding to the two of them. 

“Rawlins can’t do it for you?” McPherson asked, moving to stand up before the older the general waved him down, “What could be so press-” 

“Everything is always pressing with Washington Mac.” 

“It can’t wait until morning?” Sherman questioned, eyebrow raised. If there was something urgent, Rawlins would have crashed the party without an invitation. The young aide had a knack for coming in at the worst times. 

Grant glanced at him and Sherman was taken aback by the coldness of the stare. 

“I would prefer it be finished tonight,” he replied, quickly looking away from Sherman. With a small nod and a muttered goodbye, the leading general gathered his things and made his way across the room. As he left, either from the wind or maybe his own strength, the door slammed shut. 

Silence hung between Sherman and McPherson as they sat in the room, eyes glued to the door. McPherson scratched the side of his face, eyebrows pulled together, “That seemed abrupt.” 

Sherman couldn’t help but agree. Grant could be blunt, but that sort of abruptness wasn’t like him. Especially towards him. The coldness of Grant’s glance unsettled him as well. Had they mentioned something they shouldn’t have? 

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, “Must be something important, you know how they get on his back for anything over there.” 

McPherson nodded slowly, the puzzled expression still on his face, “I suppose…” 

“If Washington had to deal with me, they wouldn’t get an answer until I felt like giving them a goddamn answer.” 

“And that is why,” McPherson pointed with a laugh, “they don’t have to deal with you.” 

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The morning was brisk with a light flurry in the air. None of it stopped the people from roaming up and down the streets, either greeting him with a polite smile or an angry sneer. Sherman tried his best to ignore both. 

The stairs underneath him creaked as he climbed up, bypassing a flushed-looking staff officer. Probably the young man’s first day at the job, he knew the look of someone given too much information in one meeting. He was sure it made the boy’s head spin.  

Striding through the other aides, Sherman entered his office and grabbed the papers and envelopes off his desk. 

“Anything important come in colonel?” Sherman turned, the young man glancing up from the hand full of other papers he was shuffling through, “Don’t tell me I have to look through all that crap.” 

“Oh no sir,” the colonel, Williams, replied. He shook the papers lightly, “Just some complaints from the city folk, which I’ve mostly gone through and divided up.” 

“And?” 

“And most of it is not all that important or interesting,” he shrugged, pushing up his glasses, “the normal complaints and requests that are usually dismissed or denied.” 

“Lovely,” Sherman muttered, walking around his desk and sitting in the chair behind it. 

Shuffling through the mail, there was a few telegrams from Blair and McPherson he would have to review. Some requests for leaves, an invitation or two for another party one of the wealthy city folk was putting on. He’d have to come up for an excuse on those. There was no chance in hell he’d get caught up in those parties again, especially if Grant managed to sneak off. Half the reason he went was because the younger general would be around. 

“Nothing from General Grant this morning?” Sherman questioned, flipping through the papers again. There was a letter from Ellen he would have to read. And it looked like John had sent him something as well. 

“No sir, nothing that came across your or mine’s desk.”  

Odd. Grant made it a habit to leave him a note or something in the morning. Maybe whatever he was finishing up last night didn’t leave him time to have anything sent over. 

Sherman leaned his chair, pulling a cigar from his breast pocket. Ellen had tried to tell him not to smoke so much in the morning, but he couldn’t help it. With the damn cold, he needed to warm up somehow. It wasn’t as if the building was producing any heat to give him comfort. 

Colonel Williams sat silently off to the side of the room at his small desk, eyes flicking back and forth over the pile of papers before him. The young man was useful, he knew exactly what Sherman did and didn’t want to see and brought only the important things to his attention. He also had a knack for reading his moods, which was something all his other aides seemed to lack. 

“I’m sorry sir,” the colonel said, crossing the room, “It seems that General Grant did send something, it just came from General Rawlins. I apologize,” he placed the single sheet down on Sherman’s desk, his eyebrows pinched together. 

“Is there something wrong with it?” Sherman asked, grabbing the sheet. 

“No sir, just…I guess I’m used to General Grant writing to you personally.” 

The redhead shrugged, “When he gets caught up, Rawlins sometimes takes care of it.” 

His eyes trailed over the words, General Sherman, General Grant is unable to accompany you to dinner later this evening. He apologizes in advance. -  Your Obt. Servt. Brig. Gen. J. Rawlins. 

Oh. That was sudden. 

Sherman frowned, chewing on the butt of his cigar. It was incredibly unlike Grant to cancel a meeting, especially this one in particular. It was just going to be the two of them, talking over potential strategies and plans for the upcoming campaign season. Putting together a framework of what going forward would entail and what Washington may or may not above.

Dread crept over him as his eyes went over the note again. 

Maybe Grant decided he didn’t need Sherman to come up with a strategy. He was a man of action and came up with his own movements frequently, which Sherman would follow. Even when they didn’t agree. But they always talked things over, even if Grant didn’t take his input.

What if Grant didn’t need him to make plans? The brunette didn’t really need Sherman’s input at all. Maybe Grant somehow realized and is thinking of moving on, maybe- 

He let out a small breath, the smoke blowing in Williams’s face. The colonel coughed but Sherman was lost in his spiraling thoughts. Stop thinking like that. Just try to go by Grant’s headquarters later. There was no need to make this a bigger deal than it had to be. 

“Thank you, Colonel,” Sherman replied, trying to wave the smoke away, “I’ll be sure to handle it.” 

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“What do you mean he isn’t here?” 

Cyrus B. Comstock raised an eyebrow, annoyance creeping up into his face, “Do you need me to write it down for you General Sherman?” 

He could almost feel his eye twitch. Cyrus was newer to Grant’s staff, an engineer from the east, but they had gotten along well around Vicksburg. A no-nonsense sort of man, probably from dealing with all the catfighting over in the eastern army. He appreciated that sort of attitude, just not at this exact moment. 

“General Grant is usually here during the day,” Sherman retorted, trying to keep himself calm, “Did something come up to call him away?” 

“Rawlins said that they had some errands to run,” Comstock shrugged. He placed his stack of books down on the desk before him, hand resting on his hip, “They didn’t say when they would be back.” 

Rawlins. Always Rawlins. The boy was practically glued to Grant’s side. Sherman didn’t know how Grant stood it. If Colonel Williams followed him around like a puppy, he’d lock every door behind him.  

Sighing, Sherman carded his hand through his hair. It wasn’t fair to be annoyed at Rawlins. He just needed to know everything was ok. The cancellation was just…so unlike Grant. He had to know what he said or did to bother him.

“How was General Grant this morning?” 

“How was he?” Comstock repeated. 

Now the younger man was getting on his nerves, “Yes, did he seem…fine?” 

“He seemed like his normal self,” Comstock’s eyebrows pinched together again, confused, “Why? Is he supposed to be upset?” 

This was going nowhere. The annoyance mixed with panic was making every nerve feel like it was on edge. This room was stuffy anyway. “No, I just…never mind, I’ll talk to him later.” 

Sherman stormed out, passing by the other busy body aides Grant had working. 

Everything was fine. He would just talk to Grant later, find out what was keeping him so busy. It had to be something extremely important. Probably telegrams from Washington, acting like chickens with their heads cut off. 

Surely that had to be it. 

He stuffed a cigar in his mouth, chomping down on the end. The tobacco ground against his teeth. There was something he was missing. What had brought this on? It wasn’t like there weren’t any secrets between them, but Sherman felt like Grant was always open and happy to see him. He had given him that chair at Chattanooga for god’s sake! 

It must have been something he did. The sheer thought of that made the panic grow. 

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“I think you’re overthinking this Sherman.” 

“Am I?” He asked hotly, the floorboards squeaking as he paced back and forth, “Grant doesn’t just cancel something we’ve been talking about for weeks. There has to be a reason…” 

McPherson rolled his eyes, chin resting in the palm of his hand. The younger general’s desk was neatly organized, papers stacked to perfection. Just like McPherson, always organized and ready to go. Calm, cool, and looking at him like he was crazy. 

Maybe he was. 

“Grant is probably just busy with other things and can’t make it,” McPherson explained, watching the redhead tug at his beard fiercely, “it probably isn’t more complicated than that.” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

McPherson sat up a bit, crossing his arms over his chest, “I wouldn’t understand? Sherman, I was on his staff for a good portion of time. I think I know a little about how Grant operates.” 

Sherman glanced at him, stopping in the middle of the floor. His fingers pulled at his beard again, his irritation building up. He had racked his mind over their conversation over and over. There was nothing he noticed that may have irked Grant, everything seemed so perfectly normal until he left.  

Sighing, he dragged his hand through his hair, his other hand resting on his hip, “It was hard to schedule it as is, god knows how long we’ll stay in the same place together. And it came in this morning too, which seems…” 

“Abrupt?” McPherson finished with a small smirk. 

The redhead frowned slightly at that, “Yes. It seemed very sudden.” 

“Like how Grant left last night abruptly?” McPherson continued, “when he said he had important things to work on for Washington?” 

“He would have finished that by now,” Sherman countered, continuing his pacing, “And if he didn’t, I’m sure he would have told Rawlins what needed to be done.” 

“You know Grant likes to do that stuff himself, with it going straight to the president and all.” 

“Did I say something last night?” He changed the topic quickly, tired of McPherson’s counterpoints. They made sense of course, but there had to be more. Surely there was something else behind this. He must have done something to bother the younger general. 

The brunette frowned, looking up the ceiling for a moment, “Last night?” he muttered, taking a moment to think about it. He shook his head, “Nothing that stands out.” 

“Nothing that would offend him?” 

The younger man cracked a smile, a small laugh escaping him, “Offend him? Now I do think you’re overthinking this.” 

This was going nowhere. He just needed to talk to Grant, that’s all. Clear the air, find exactly why he couldn’t meet him tonight. It wasn’t too much to ask for. Just an explanation.  

That was perfectly reasonable, wasn’t it? 

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The candlelight in his office dimmed, casting small shadows across his desk. Beyond the window, he watched the last streams of sunlight disappear into the night sky. Winter was the worst time, with the short days and what seemed like everlasting nights. Plus the cold air that would nip at his bones, even with his warmer clothing on, was not pleasant.   

Sheman puffed on the cigar resting between his lips, leaning back in his chair. Since he came back to his office, he hadn’t moved from the spot. Every single thought in his mind was racing, trying to solve this riddle. Was it a riddle? Was he making something out of nothing? Wouldn’t be the first time. 

But dammit, maybe he just really wanted to have dinner with Grant.  

The younger general was busier than ever. Between his new command of all the armies from the Appalachian Mountains to the Mississippi River, Grant barely seemed to have time for himself. The fact that they were able to get together last night was a miracle. He had joined last minute and like a flash, he was gone again. 

Plus that rumor of him getting the rank of full lieutenant general seemed to hang over his head. The idea of losing him to the eastern theater gnawed at Sherman. That theater was a disaster. The politicians got their hands into the army’s business far too often and the men there couldn’t do anything worth a damn. And even when they did score a victory, they seemed to somehow let it slip through their hands.  

Out here in the west is where the war would be won. There was no doubt of that in Sherman’s mind and he wanted to reiterate that again to Grant in their meeting. But now he wouldn’t get the chance. 

It wasn’t as if Grant was going to disappear off the face of the earth. He just wanted...what did he want? 

Maybe he just wanted to spend time with Grant before he was dragged off hundreds of miles away from him. 

Sherman frowned, sliding down in his chair a bit as he felt his cheeks flush. What he wanted didn’t matter. It was up to Grant and for some reason, the younger man didn’t want to see him.  

Which was fine. Totally fine. Nothing wrong with that at all. 

A light knock echoed through the room. “Come in.” 

The door creaked open and Sherman looked up, meeting the confused and slightly concerned expression of Colonel Williams. He waved the young man in, sitting up in his chair. Pull yourself together dammit.  

Williams saluted before walking in, a folded piece of paper in his hands, “Sir, a message arrived from General Rawlins for you. It came in only a short time ago.” 

Sherman perked up at that, rising in his seat. What could it mean? He quickly took the slip from Williams’s hands, his eyes scanning over the short message.  

When you have a moment, would you please come over to General Grant’s headquarters to speak with me? There is a matter here I would like to discuss with you. Your Obt. Servt. - Brig. Gen. J. Rawlins.  

Incredibly cryptic, which was very un-Rawlins-like. His frown deepened, reading over the message again. What would he need to discuss? 

Sherman stuffed the paper into his breast pocket, next to the cigars, and rose from his chair. “Thank you, Colonel. If anyone needs me, advise them that I will be with General Rawlins.” 

He left the young man behind before he could answer, his nerves on end. It had to be related to Grant. Rawlins would surely know what caused him to cancel. If Rawlins didn’t know, then Sherman would never find out without going to the source. And that scared him like hell.  

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John Rawlins looked like absolute shit. Sherman knew he has been sick, Grant mentioned it offhandedly, but it still shocked him to see. The younger man’s back was to him, hacking into a handkerchief. 

Rawlins wiped his mouth, stuffing the handkerchief into his pocket. He turned and Sherman took in his sunken cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “General Sherman, can you close the door?” 

Puzzled, Sherman obliged him and gently shut the door behind him.  

“Did you say something to Grant?” Rawlins asked directly, leveling a smaller glare at the taller man.  

His stomach dropped. So it was something he said. Goddammit, but what was it? “If I did, I don’t know what made him upset.” 

“Upset?” Rawlins repeated, hands resting on his hips, “He’s not upset, he’s just been...so goddamn moody the entire day.” 

“Moody how?” Sherman asked, stepping closer to the brunette. So he wasn’t upset? 

“Like he hasn’t spoken a word all day.” 

“Well you know that isn’t uncommon for Grant,” he replied, “Sometimes he can go hours without talking.” 

“Yes, but he hasn’t spoken to anyone all day. Including myself, which is an issue when you’re supposed to be his chief of staff,” Rawlins responded with a hint of annoyance, “he’s been in this mood since he returned last night and you and General McPherson were the only ones to see him. And in combination with that letter from his fathe-” 

 “Well, why isn’t General McPherson here?” Sherman interrupted, irritation rising, “Have you asked him?” 

“I know General McPherson wouldn’t say something to somehow offend General Grant.” 

Sherman’s anger flared up, planting his hands on his hips, “So you just ASSUMED I said something that’s made Grant moody all day?”  

Rawlins glared at him and pointed his finger, “Either something you said or something that happened in that room.” 

Sherman’s cheeks flushed at that, the anger boiling up, “Well if you and Grant were together all da-” 

“We weren’t together all day.” Rawlins cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just told Comstock to tell people that so they would leave Grant alone.” 

“Unbelievable!” He tried not to shout, but he couldn’t hold it back. All the pent-up anxiety and anger were going to make him lose his mind, “I just wanted to figure out why Grant canceled out goddamn dinner and you go and make Comstock, and I’m sure all the other aides I may have asked, lie! Perfect! Fantastic!” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Rawlins muttered, rolling his eyes, “That’s another reason why I knew it was you because the ONLY thing Grant requested from me all day was to send that note to you and for the life of my don’t know why.” 

The words stopped him cold. In an instant, the anger was overtaken but the anxiety. It was something he did to bother Grant. He couldn’t stand it, knowing he had made Grant feel like...whatever he was feeling like.  

“Well, where is he?” Sherman asked, taking a small breath. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest. 

Rawlins stared at him hard, his frown deepening. Sherman was beginning to think he was going to have to plead to the other man to know. Grant had a knack of slinking off when he didn’t want to be found.  

A hard knock on the door broke the silence. Rawlins’s shoulders seemed to drop slightly as if a weight had been lifted, “Come in!” 

Come in? They were in the middle of a conversation! His annoyance spiked, who the hell did Rawlins think he wa- 

The door behind him creaked open and Sherman turned, eye’s widening slightly when he saw Grant’s familiar tired face. The younger general looked up and their eyes met, and he seemed to freeze for a minute. 

“Rawlins...” Grant grumbled, stepping into the room more. His eyes jumped from Sherman to Rawlins, who had a small smirk tugging on his lips. The young man seemed very proud of himself.  

“Now that you’re both here,” Rawlins clapped, “you can discuss whatever the hell is going on between the two of you.” 

Sherman felt his face heat up and he saw Grant’s eyebrows pinch together, his frown deepening. “Rawlins, there isn-” 

“Don’t you say there isn’t,” the young man interrupted, brushing past Sherman to stand in front of Grant, “because clearly there is and it’s been a pain all day.” 

The two brunettes glared at one another, neither wanting to give ground. Grant’s eyes flickered over to Sherman. There was something beyond the look that he couldn’t place.  

Grant sighed, holding up his hands, “Fine.” 

“Good, now if you’ll excuse me,” Rawlins looked back at Sherman and then to Grant, “I’m going to get something to eat. Deal with...,” he waved his hand between the two of them, “whatever the hell is going on here. Please.” 

Before Sherman could say anything, the young man slipped out of the room, closing the door with enough force to make his point. 

Then it was just the two of them, standing a few feet from one another. There was an awkwardness, Grant fiddling around with a cigar in his hand. Looking anywhere that wasn’t at Sherman. It was going to drive him mad. 

“Grant...” Sherman trailed off, unsure of what to say. Which was rarely a thing that happened. But he didn’t know what he was apologizing for, hell he didn’t even know why Grant had ignored him all day.   

The general walked past him, sitting on the edge of the desk in the middle of the room. He continued to fiddle with the cigar, suddenly interested in the tips of his boots. Why was he acting like this? Grant never acted like this. Sure he was silent a majority of the time, but there was still a presence there. People knew he was commanding the room. But this didn’t feel like that at all.  

“I didn’t realize this was what Rawlins asked me to come here for...,” Grant muttered with a shake of his head, “Should have known.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Sherman shrugged, trying to break the ice, “I just assumed he was having me come in to yell at me.” 

The younger general chuckled, finally looking up at him. There was a flush to his cheeks that surprised Sherman, giving him pause. Maybe Grant wasn’t feeling good? That would explain some things. But why not come out and say that. 

Grant waved his hand to the empty space next to him on the desk, inviting him over, “That is something he tends to do.” 

Walking across the room, Sherman sat on the edge of the desk, a small space between him and Grant. He sighed, combing his hand through his beard, “Grant, I don’t know what I said or did but I’m sor-” 

Grant held up his hand, Sherman shutting up immediately. He watched the other man as he rolled the cigar between his fingers, the flush on his cheeks getting darker. Did he have a fever? 

“It’s nothing you need to apologize for, I was just...,” Grant stopped himself, scratching the back of his neck, “It’s childish really.” 

“I mean, clearly I said something.” 

“It wasn’t really anything.” 

“Well, it upset you enough that you didn’t want to see me all day.” 

Grant sighed, fiddling around with the cigar again. The flush had gotten darker and Sherman couldn’t wrap his head around it. He had never seen Grant like this, everything about this situation was completely foreign to him. Grant didn’t get embarrassed, he didn’t get frazzled. In the midst of battle, he was incredibly cool under pressure.  

Sherman watched him, trying to understand. Maybe he was sick. It could be making him act out of character. That had to be it.  

On impulse, he reached out his hand and placed it on Grant’s forehead, making the younger man jump. It did feel a bit warm but nothing that would indicate a fever... 

“Wh-what are you doing?” Grant spluttered, grabbing Sherman’s wrist and pulling it away, his eyebrows pinched together, looking at him with confusion. 

He was reaching his breaking point. Why couldn’t he just tell him for god’s sake? 

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re sick or something because I can’t understand what the hell is going on,” Sherman declared, waving his free hand dramatically, “I’ve been trying to figure it out all day! Just...,” he deflated, trying to compose himself, “just tell me what I did so we can move on.” 

Grant stared at him, the normally stoic expression clouded with embarrassment. Sherman felt a gentle squeeze on his wrist, a small warmth coming over him before the other man let go. Grant’s hands sat on his lap, his fingers twisting the fabric of his pants.  

“I don’t ‘scurry’ away.”  

The voice was barely above a whisper, Grant looking straight at the wall, away from him. Sherman blinked, trying to understand.  

“You don’t what?” 

Sighing, Grant looked at him, a small pout on his face. The red on his cheeks hadn’t faded away, they had intensified if anything. “You said I ‘scurry’ away at parties...I don’t I just...,” he carded his hand through his hair, messing up the small style he had to it, “I just don’t like being around that many people.” 

Sherman blinked, staring at him. And then he blinked again. The information whirled around in his head, “You don’t... ‘scurry’ away,” he repeated, slowly putting the pieces together. 

The younger general nodded, watching him like a hawk. As if he expected some sort of reaction from Sherman, though he wasn’t sure what. It obviously hit some chord with Grant. He couldn’t imagine why, everyone knew Grant wasn’t into the big social scenes.  

“No,” Grant replied curtly, “I...,” he paused, running his hand through his hair again, “It’s dumb, I made it something it didn’t have to be.” 

On the one hand, Sherman was more confused than ever. He had no idea that Grant had this side. Julia had mentioned it in passing once or twice, her little teasing making Grant blush, but he had chalked that up to their cutesy romance. He was the shyest fellow you ever saw, she told him one night over dinner. But also extremely determined, it was something Julia appreciated about her husband. And it was an aspect that Sherman also appreciated.  

On the other hand...there was this flop strand of Grant’s hair hanging over his forehead that Sherman wanted to reach out and push back. His hair always seemed so put together. And those clear blue eyes were looking at him, the flush on Grant's cheeks making the color come out more. All frazzled like this, the younger general was...extremely cute.  

Oh for god’s sake, listen to yourself. Sherman crushed that feeling down immediately, grabbing a cigar from his pocket so Grant wouldn’t notice his own flustered face. Acting like some fucking damsel.  

“I didn’t realize that bothered you,” he stuffed the cigar in his mouth, the smoke calming him down.  

“It’s...,” Grant stopped, tapping his fingers against his knee. He pushed off from the desk, back to Sherman, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “We can just move past it.” 

“Obviously not,” Sherman countered, “If it’s something that bothers you, I’d like to know why.” 

He could see the tension in Grant’s back, slightly rocking back on heels now and again. There couldn’t be anything like this between them, not when they were about to move into what they hoped was the final months of the war. The planning, everything hinged on them working together.  

“You would?” Grant answered with a mutter, nodding a bit. Like he was coming to terms with something. He turned toward Sherman, his shoulders deflating slightly. He looked tired, worn out.  

“Yeah, I would.” 

“I didn’t mean to take my...annoyance out on you. It just happened to be the combination of what you said and…,” Grant paused, gesturing with his hand slightly, “a letter I received from my father. It had...more to do with him than you but he’s not here so…” 

Jesse Root Grant. Sherman had met the man once or twice when he came to visit Grant in camp. The older man would be warm in greeting but there was a look in his eye that always unsettled him. Like he had an agenda while visiting. 

He also happened to be an ass. Causing more problems than what they were worth, publishing Grant’s letters in the papers. Then all those journalist half-wits would pull from them and disparage Grant in the miserable little articles.  

The pieces all fell into place for Sherman. It just happened to be a wrong comment, the wrong time. The nervous weight he had carried around all day lifted from his shoulders.  

“Your father does have that charming personality,” Sherman remarked, pulling out his cigar, “All that talk and scheming, can’t see how that could affect anyone poorly,” he smirked, waving a hand in Grant’s direction, “such as yourself.”  

For a moment there was no reaction. Grant stared back with that blank expression of his and Sherman thought this time he had taken it a step too far. 

Slowly, a smile tugged onto the young general’s face. Then a chuckle and Grant put his mouth over his face, trying to hide his laugher. It was a rare sound that Sherman delighted in and his smile grew wider.  

“Real ol’ shame for the papers when Jesse stopped blasting your letters for headlines, then they had to do actual work for a story to come up with.” 

Their laughter bounced around the room, the tension evaporating. Grant’s face was flushed again, shaking his head as he came over and stood before him. He wiped at his eyes, a small smile on his face, “It was a sorry day for them.” 

“Really made them scurry off,” Sherman jested, kicking the toe of Grant’s boot with his own, “Probably wailing in the streets too!” 

Composing himself, Grant took a deep breath, that wave of calm Sherman knew so well seemingly coming over him. But the smile didn’t disappear, “Yes, scurrying off I’m sure. Heading for other camps, picking up their rumors too.” 

“But really, your father is an ass.” 

Grant bit his bottom lip slightly, incredibly unfair to Sherman, keeping his smile from growing. “He can be...a handful. Stubborn.” 

“Impossible. He seemed extremely reasonable when he visited.” The sarcasm was oozing from the words, but he couldn't help it. The man was a pain in Grant’s side.  

“You should him when he’s in a good mood.” 

“Charming I’m sure.” 

They shared a small laugh, silence settling over them. Sherman’s eyes looked Grant over, the tension seemingly gone. More at ease, like he normally was around camp. 

Grant pulled out his pocket watch, clicking it open to the clockface. His thumb brushed over it, “Did you eat before coming here?” 

Sherman almost jumped at the question but he calmed himself, trying to keep that aloof personality in place. He didn’t want to seem too eager, “As a matter of fact, I thought I had plans...but it seemed like the scheduled time for them changed a bit.” 

Snapping the watch closed, Grant tucked it back into his breast pocket, “Funny...I seemed to have the same issue.” 

“Well then, it seems we’re two fine men who’ve been stood up,” Sherman jested, trying to keep a serious face. He pushed off from the desk, toe to toe with Grant, “it would almost seem practical if we had dinner together.” 

Those blue eyes stared up at him, a small twinkle in Grant’s eye, and goddammit if those ridiculous thoughts didn’t come back into his head. His brain never knew when to shut up.  

“It would seem so,” Grant conceded, staring at him for a long moment before stepping back. He bounced on the balls of his toes slightly, “Shall we?” 

Walking out into the chilled Memphis air, the two walked side by side, arms brushing together. 

Grant lit up a cigar, puffing on it briefly before blowing out the smoke, “I am sorry Sherman, I shouldn’t let something like that…”

The redhead waved him off, “Water under the bridge. Your father has a big mouth. It gets under your skin.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Well, the next time you get something from him,” Sherman bumped him with his elbow, a small grin on his face, “and it says something idiotic, let me read it and we find a way to laugh about it.”

Grant smiled, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Or you can burn it.”

“Everything doesn’t have to be burned Sherman.”

“Makes it easier to ignore though.”

[multifandomthoughts]

Picture Perfect

Requested by: @aspergerhero​

Word Count: 1,285 words

Triggers: None!

Synopsis: You’re the newest member of the Straw Hats, and it’s taken a little while for the rest of the crew to warm up to you. All except her... Nico Robin. But when the pursuit of your talent happens to cross paths with her own interests, that all changes... Now later down the line, you want to use your camera to spend a little quality time with Robin. If only the rest of the crew would stay out of the way...

Author’s Note: This is my first ever large fic (something over a thousand words) and I’m so happy with how it came out! It took a while to complete but I hope y’all like it!

The devil child: Nico Robin. One would think from that epitaph that she would be a monster; someone with large horns or something that would constitute “devil child.” But nope, she is the last of her kind, a caring, kindhearted and often morbid person. She is a tall, thin and intelligent being, traits fit for an archeologist.

You knew the first day you had seen her that something special was going to happen between the two of you. Your new captain, Luffy, had admired your resolve and had pretty much demanded (in his own special way) that you join the crew. You had always had a dream of taking pictures of all the islands you could, to document the world just in case something happened. The crew welcomed you with open arms of course, but it seemed like the mysterious woman with long black hair and sunglasses was avoiding you at first.

It was no wonder she was avoiding you. It was when you had learned her past that it all had made sense. After speaking with the others over time, you had learned the truth; the horrible truth. She was the last of her people; the island of Ohara had been destroyed, her friends and family gone, and she had been hunted down just for the fact that she was the lone survivor. And then the water 7 incident; where she sacrificed her life so the rest of the straw hats could escape just because she didn’t feel she was worthy of their friendship. You could remember the first time she had learned of your skill. You had gotten off of the ship to explore an island. You thought back about that day…

The trees were lush and green as you traversed a windy path that led to a hill, looking for that one landmark that would help you remember the island forever. Walking along the stone pathway, you noticed that the ground was littered with these tiny pieces of metal that you were unaware of the origin or purpose of. Intrigued, you kept up your pace as you walked, seeing more and more chunks of this metal. You decide to pocket one of the smaller pieces in hopes of maybe getting an idea of what it was from, possibly through Franky or Usopp. Just in case, you decided to document your journey up the hill. Maybe there would be something that you missed upon first glance.

As you kept walking, you noticed less and less of the metal objects, and more tall grass and trees. Maybe the metal had been from some kind of outer fortification and you were now coming to an inner garden or the like. That hypothesis was soon tested as you came upon rising stone structures. Incomplete walls and archways were scattered in a manner you couldn’t make any sense of. Architecture was more of Robin’s area of expertise. Thinking of her, you brought your camera up to the hill to start finding good framing for a few snapshots. A place like this needed to be documented, and you weren’t going to wait for someone else to come do it. After wandering around and getting a few angles of the major structural remnants, you started to head back to the Sunny. On the way back you bumped into her by accident.

“Oh! Robin I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you, I must not have been looking where I was going.” You apologized profusely as she turned around and gave you a wide smile. “It’s okay, I’m just glad it wasn’t a group of bandits looking for hostages.” You were slightly confused by her comment but shook it off. “Hey Robin, I heard that you’re into archeology…could you possibly tell me what these buildings are?” With a wide eyed look of glee, she put her hands around your camera and with a nod you let her take it. “From what it looks like, it seems like it’s an open garden…some of the sides of the walls have poneglyph writing on them…it must be very very old, predating my family.”

Fast forward to now, where the two of you have become much closer than you ever thought you would, and certainly much happier. You’ve expressed many times how photogenic you think she is, and how much you’d like to get the chance to have her pose for a shoot. She never hesitates to tease you on what you might do with those photos, or just what sort of photoshoot it will really be, but you know she’s also flattered that you like her appearance to that degree. Finally you both have some free time and you set up your camera and a few outfits for her to wear. It was a warm day so most of the outfits she’s wearing corresponds to the weather.

“Hey Robin, why don’t you lean up against the mast and we can get a couple shots of you looking badass, okay?” “Yeah, that sounds good!” She saunters over to the mast and did a variety of poses; a squat, a lean, one with her arms crossed and even one with her Devil fruit, her arms dotted across the top of the mast, aiming down. “You want to try another outfit and then we can we can do some of you over the side, maybe looking wistful?”

Nodding, she heads over to her room to get changed into a different outfit; she always has a good sense of fashion and that’s something you’ve admired about her. Unbeknownst to you, you and your subject have attracted quite the bit of attention. Sanji has been discreetly watching the two of you, and Chopper and Luffy have been a bit confused, albeit intrigued to what you were doing. It looked like Luffy had a plan to cause some mischief; you don’t know what kind but you were not going to let him ruin your day.

Robin returns swiftly, having changed into a white dress with purple polka dots and matching lace at the bottom. She really does look lovely in that, you think to yourself. “Alright, you ready to take some more pictures?” She gives an enthusiastic nod and heads over to the side of the boat, resting her hands on the rails and looking off in the distance.

As soon as you try to take the picture, Luffy and Chopper giggle loudly, attacking Robin with a hug. Sanji emerges from where he was watching and takes the chance to put his head in her chest. Even though this shot was totally not what you were expecting, you could live with it. It makes good memories of you and your crew. With a loud shout, you alert the rest of the crew to what you are doing; Franky and Usopp come tumbling out of their workshops like something is wrong. Nami vaults over the railing, running over to the picture as Zoro complains about all the noise. And finally, Brook comes out from inside the galley to see what all the fuss is about.

“Hey all” you start. “I was doing a photo shoot with Robin when Luffy and Chopper photobombed me and I have a great idea! Why don’t we do a few group pictures to create some good memories?” For the most part, the group agreed; minus Zoro who was still grumpy from being woken up. Upon agreement, you begin to put everyone in a place before everything falls apart, and you decide to just let them pose the way they want. The smile on Robin’s face as she’s surrounded by her dear friends is an image you want to treasure forever. Fortunately, you can.

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 3

Pairing: Sam x Reader Warnings: cursing, a bit of self depreciation Word Count: 2.2k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. Beta: None

Part 1  -  Part 2 Masterlist

Chapter 3: for the love of god, explain this

Sam Winchester lies awake at three in the morning, under foreign, scratchy sheets, stubbornly not tearing his eyes from the cracked, ugly wallpaper on the ceiling. A lot of things are happening and his brain is going about a million miles an hour, spinning endlessly, Castiel, Dean returning from hell, the stress of the hunting life, the current case and… Y/n. Wonderful, smart, talented, funny Y/n.

It’s been a while since someone has made him excited. He keeps bumping into her in his mind, keeps finding thoughts of her lying around, eager to distract him. He catches himself wanting to text her about every stupid thing that happens in his day, much like she sometimes does. She’s been the only thing that makes his heart a little lighter, and it’s such a strange feeling, someone’s presence being this uplifting.

He was suspicious of her at first. A strange woman (at least she claims to be one, he forgets he’s never actually… seen her) asking about him, his profession, and then about… ghosts? A bit random, too specific, Sam recognizes he got defensive. But the way she spoke afterwards… he doesn’t know.  His instinct tells him to trust her.

Amidst his thoughts, he doesn’t remember picking up his phone, but it’s just one of those nights, he needs someone to talk to- or rather, wants Y/n specifically. A thought he chooses not to dwell on.

are you awake? I can’t sleep.

I actually am. Lucky you.

Sam smiles. Lucky me, he thinks.

isn’t it like 4 am for you?

Tell me about it. No luck sleeping either.

happen to you a lot?

Yeah.

I happen to have anxiety induced insomnia.

Working at a bar also helps fuck up your sleeping schedule as well.

You?

i’m sorry :/

i don’t get much sleep either. something always keeps me up.

Yeah, I get that.

Where in the Great Unites States of America are you today?

hahah it’s Oregon today.

it’s the ugliest motel room i’ve ever been in.

Ooh

Do I ask about your case or is it confidential?

it’s confidential but i’ll tell you that i am investigating a bunch of strange murders.

You’re investigating serial killers?? That’s so fucking dope.

something like that yeah.

how was your day?

Oh, you know. The usual.

College assignments, a shift at the bar. I went out with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while.

I need to clean my house desperately.

I also nearly burned my kitchen down trying to cook lunch. Emmy and I ended up eating some lazy-ass spaghetti, because pasta is the only thing I can cook, apparently.

hahahah what were you making?

You’re gonna laugh if I tell you.

well now you must.

Ugh, do I?

come onnn

It was eggs, okay? I was just trying to make eggs.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I TOLD YOU YOU’D LAUGH AT ME

HOW DID YOU BURN EGGS?!

LISTEN, OKAY

I NEVER SAID I WAS A GOOD COOK

HAHAHAHAH

Sam laughs over his phone, as silently as he can, so as to not wake Dean up. He turns on his other side and realizes his cheeks hurt from smiling, and it’s a feeling he’s missed.

Yeah, yeah, laugh, culinary genius. Not all of us can be perfect.

i never said i was a culinary genius

but at least i don’t go near stoves if i don’t have to.

Well, it’s not like I can afford every-day takeout (or like that shit is healthy, even if I could) and someone has to cook for my sister while she’s in school

you have siblings?

and yeah you’re right i didn’t think like that sorry.

It’s okay.

And yeah, my sister, Emily.” Emmy”

oooh i thought emmy was your friend.

Nono, it’s my sister. She’s 17.

can i ask you a personal question?

Shoot

why do you have to take care of her? are your guys’ parents not around?

you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable with that.

Well, it’s a bit complicated.

My parents’ marriage kind of fell apart when I was around 10. They tried to fix things by adopting a kid- Emily. For a while that worked.

When I was 16 my mom took off and dad took care of us for 2 years almost. He really dedicated himself to us.

He worked his antique shop and supported us. For two years, I didn’t see him spend a penny on himself.

But I ended up having to take care of Em when he passed. I was freshly 18, so I could take care of her as a guardian.

shit i’m so sorry.

It’s okay, honestly.

I mean, it didn’t use to be, and it was hell for a while.

But we made it.

i admire your positivity.

I try :)

i also love that you put smiley faces in your text messages.

Shouldn’t have said that, now I’ll always think about it before I do it

hahah

Sam bites his lip. What the hell is happening? They’re… flirting. Sorta. And it’s nice- better than nice. Fuck.

What about you?

you mean what’s my relationship with my parents?

Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid. It wasn’t what I was asking either.

What I meant was, how’s your life right now. How’s the family business. You can pick which you wanna answer.

i don’t mind either honestly.

as for my parents my mom died when I was 6 months old. my dad passed away about a year and a half ago.

Jesus, I’m so sorry Sam

I don’t know what to say. It can’t have been easy. Losing a parent never is.

it wasn’t but as you said we’re trying to sort of find our footing with Dean. we’ve had our ups and downs.

Yeah I understand that.

Do you wanna talk about it?

right now not really. I mean there’s not much to say about it.

i kinda wanna forget about it. thanks though.

Alright.

So how’s the family business?

Does it feel good to be paid to be Sherlock Holmes?

crap. but we’re doing our best.

for the record i don’t get paid nearly enough for the shit i have to do.

Hahaha, hang in there.

Dean still refuses to come get his phone?

yeah. he says you can keep it.

Tell him to take care of his devices from now on, this one was battered beyond recognition.

duly noted.

The conversation continued until well after the sun rose. Sam had officially accepted this night to be sleepless, and Y/n was good company. Somehow she took his mind off of everything that was bugging him, made him, if momentarily, forget about it, and he truly loved that about her. The back and forth tended to flow easily between them, and he couldn’t get enough of the chemistry he had with this practical stranger.

Sleepless or not, this night was a good one, after she entered the picture.

-

The glow on her skin is blue-ish and soft, combatting the one from the fairy lights above them. Laptop absolutely not low in volume, couch dipping under two bodies, slumped together, legs leaning against one another, soft flannel pants and droopy eyes. Emily’s hair is out of its usual half-up hairstyle, exploding with volume and bright, firey color, flowing onto the back of the couch.

Jon Snow is yelling on the screen, and Y/n is completely ignoring him, constantly checking her inactive phone and the way the screen doesn’t light up with Sam’s name. Every time she feels disappointed, she tries to quell the relentless thoughts of the possibility of him being completely over her.

Damn it.

“Do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend I’m not aware of or something?” Emily mutters dryly, half-hearted but gentle teasing. Y/n sputters.

“Huh?”

“’Cause you keep checking your phone, and as far as I know you don’t have any friends.”

“HEY,” deeply offended, Y/n places her hand over her heart, glaring at her sister. “Excuse you!” she exclaims, “Connor? Ashley? Lydia?”

“Yeah, a neighbor and two college students that you haven’t talked to in like, what, two weeks? What a social butterfly.”

“Okay first off,” Y/n ignores the screaming and fighting on the screen and shifts to look at her sister. “Stop tracking my socializing.” Em scoffs.

“C’mon, bear, spill.” Bottom lip pouted. She pauses the episode, turning to face her older sister. “Who are they and when can I meet them?” A devilish smile, teasing like only a younger sister can, curling the right corner of her lip.

“He’s not my boyf-“

“AHA! So there is someone! I knew it!”

“I’ve known him for like- what, three weeks? Nothing is going on! I barely know the guy!” Y/n fiddles with her hair and huffs, holding back a smile.

“Where’d you meet him? Is he hot? What’s he like?!” Poking her sister’s thigh continuously, she grins wide, excited. “C’mon, you’re like, no fun.”

“The thing is… I didn’t. Meet him, I mean.” Eyebrows furrow.

“Uh…” Emily purses her lips. “I’m … not following.”

It takes all of five minutes for Y/n to explain to her sister all about her crazy adventure, the lost phone, the brother, Sam. The girls munch on leftover garlic spaghetti, talking about the stranger on the other side of Y/n’s screen.

“He’s just… different? I don’t know- I just, I’m intrigued I guess. He’s mysterious and hilarious. The type of guy we’d hang out with. Why pass it up?”

“Just hang out?” Emily wiggles her eyebrows. Y/n shoves her.

“It’s really not like that.”

“I don’t know, Y/n, he doesn’t necessarily sound just friendly to me.” Y/n won’t lie and say she hasn’t thought about it. She’s a romantic after all, and what a wonderful, movie-like love story would it be for them to fall in love and march into the sunset?

But she recognizes this is the romantic side of her picking up speed on a subject that definitely isn’t for her to decide alone. There’s a second participant in all of this, and he needs to do more than half the work by liking her. She knows it’s no easy feat. A bitter dab of paint dissolves in her chest, because why would he like her? She’s nothing quite special. She’s just a bartender, a college student, a boring, normal girl, painfully mundane, painfully boring. He’s brilliant, kind and sweet, a private investigator, he travels all the time, he’s the most interesting guy she’s ever met for crying out loud. Why would he ever give her a chance?

“I doubt it, Em,” is what Y/n decides to say, because there’s no way she can explain exactly what she’s thinking.

“No, no, you’re doing that thing again.” A hum in question falls from the older Andrews’ lips. “The thing where you put yourself down for bullshit reasons. He’d be lucky to have you.” Y/n wants to roll her eyes. “Hey,” a snap of Emily’s fingers in front of Y/n’s face to catch her attention. “I will literally slap you. You’re smart, funny, kind. He’d be fucking lucky to have you, and if you don’t believe it, I’m gonna beat some sense into you. Stop putting my sister down.”  Y/n doesn’t have anything good to say to that, so instead she lets out a huffed breath of a laugh and sits back on the couch.

“Now,” Emily leans over her own crossed legs and grabs her phone from the rickety coffee table. “Did you Google him?”

“Why the heck would I Google him?”

“It’s the 21st century, Y/n, gosh. Are you at all familiar with internet stalking?” Y/n watched pebbled coffee brown eyes get illuminated by the phone screen, freckles nowhere near as bright as they can be, because she hasn’t gone out into the sunlight today. Emily is gorgeous. Y/n is sometimes jealous, but also genuinely admires her younger sister. “What’s his name?”

“Sam Winchester.”

There’s typing, and then silence.

“Y/n…” And the warning tone on the younger one’s voice completely throws her off.

“What? What is it?” A phone screen is thrust in her face.

Mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration, armed robbery, kidnapping, three counts of first-degree murder, and breaking and entering, she reads. Winchester brothers Sam and Dean, disappeared, considered dead.

“What the fuck,” she mutters under her breath, completely horrified at the chance that this is real and the universe isn’t playing some comic joke on her, creating another pair of Winchester brothers called Sam and Dean who, instead of chasing murderers, are the murderers.

She scrolls lower and sure enough, there they are. Mug shots, but more specifically, the guy from the dating app, smouldering cheekily into the camera –a real blue steel-, holding a police station name on a black plaque, sitting at close to six feet and two. Then the younger one, less joyful and sassy, more serious and puppy-eyed. Sam. Close to what was described to her, it’s all there. Pointy nose, sharp jawline, curly brown hair with a growing, swoopy fringe, pulled behind his ears. It’s him. There’s no way, the coincidences are too many.

“Bear…” Emily stares at Y/n’s shocked face, gaze empty and out of it. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

Immediately, Y/n grabs her phone.

Sam

His reply is instantaneous.

hey y/n

i was just thinking about you

what’s up?

Please for the love of God.

Explain this.

She sends him the mugshot, photographed from the screen of her sister’s phone.

shit.

-

Part 4

A/N: Tell me what you thought? How the hell does he even explain this?

I realized I haven’t been tagging my forever taglist like a MORON, so just, sorry, I’ll start now. 

Forevers:   @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ @deanssweetheart23​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @mogaruke​ @superseejay721517​ @lady-hawkguy​ @thosefeelsarereal​ @superwholockmarauder​  @justiceiswater​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @heyitscam99​ @danijimenezv​ @aj-reuth  @unicornblood4ever @mystriee​ @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @superrandomnatural​ @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid​ @novaddictx​ @choosemyname​  @live-like-a-girl​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @bowtomytenderaddiction​  @elara98azalea​ @lemondropirwin​ @emmagolden4118​ @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor​ @paradoxical-sleep​ @narynechan @canwenotdothis​ @suicidepanda07​ 

Sam Taglist

@kymberlytorres​ @theboykingsamwinchester​ @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​

 Seen Taglist  @shutupiminlooove​ @sammysgirl1997​ @kymberlytorres​ @bambi95-blog​ @demonic-meatball​ @thekarliwinchester​ @littlekay15​ @li-m-ii​  @thinspo-isuppose​ @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker​ @marichromatic​ @illuminatus42​ @lazy-author​ @mirandaaustin93​ @hauntedsiriel​ @pilaxia​ @devilgirlsarah​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @captiveties​ @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream​ @burningforsam​ @aiofheavenandhell​

[justabstractthings]

Watermelon Wishes | Tetsutetsu x Reader

Pairing: Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu x Reader

Warnings: None! Enjoy the fluffy summer time goodness!

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you like this Tetsu fic! This is my piece for the bnharem summer collab series! I’m so happy to be able to collaborate with so many talented writers so you guys should go check out their lovely pieces on this masterlist. Also, there’s a little reference to @pixxiesdust​ Kirishima fic at the end so you guys should definitely read her piece! This was my first time writing for Tetsu so I was a bit nervous. I tried to incorporate as much as I could and I’m really happy with the results. I’ve always liked wish traditions/beliefs such as this. It just makes a world a bit more magical. Lastly, I wanted to say a huge thank you to @pixxiesdust​ and @izukyu​ for betaing my fic! You guys are awesome!!!

Word Count: 3.5k

Stick a watermelon seed to your forehead. Make your wish before it falls off.

U.A. High School was considered atypical by most school standards. While most high schools usually had a long summer break for students to enjoy, U.A. announced that they would be shortening their break down to one week. However, this new condition only applied to their hero departments considering the recent villain attacks that targeted their students, the utilization of dorms, and the increase of special courses scheduled during what would normally be their summer vacation.

This change of schedule led to students thoroughly enjoying their much-needed break. Some a bit differently than others.

Monoma decided to spend his week at his family’s villa, wanting some peace and quiet and “to be away from all the peasants”. Awase had already planned on working at his family’s shop for some extra cash. Like Monoma and Awase, most of Class 1-B either went on vacation or back home. 

However, Tetsutetsu’s way of spending his break was a bit different from everyone else in his class. He did go back to his hometown. But he had no plans of relaxation.

“A man never takes a break!” the silver-haired hero-in-training bellowed as he jogged through the neighborhood. He enthusiastically greeted many of the townspeople as they went about their morning routine. Tetsutetsu smiled as he felt a wave of nostalgia, recalling training every day in middle school in order to get into the school of his dreams. Like before, he went through his familiar running route through the small town.

During middle school, he would always go for a jog before and after school. Tetsutetsu chuckled as he remembered the number of times he had been scolded for being late or coming home sweaty and dirty. But that never stopped him. No, he was determined to become a hero.

Tetsutetsu’s grin widened as he recalled a particular memory. He felt his heartbeat and running pace quicken. Even as sweat dribbled down his forehead, Tetsutetsu didn’t feel an ounce of exhaustion. He needed to amp it up a bit more. A low rumble resonated through Tetsutetsu’s chest before he let out a loud roar as he increased his speed. 

The silver-haired male felt a rush of adrenaline as he pumped his legs as fast as he could. The exhilarating feeling of the wind rushing past his body only spurred him on. Tetsutetsu grinned as he felt his heart pound against his chest. He loved this feeling. He never wanted it to stop.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. For the silver-haired hero-in-training, that would be a solid mass walking in front of his running path and slamming right into him.

At first, Tetsutetsu couldn’t even process why his momentum was abruptly interrupted. He felt great. He felt indestructible. He felt strong. That is until he felt the wind get knocked out of his chest and his forehead slammed on the solid ground beneath him. Tetsutetsu groaned as he cursed at himself for not activating his quirk in time. He felt his head pound as he tried to push himself up. Tetsutetsu paused when he felt how soft the ground felt under his fingertips. Since when did the ground feel so squishy?

“Can you get off me?” a voice beneath him groaned out. 

Tetsutetsu blinked his eyes as he focused on the voice, head still pounding relentlessly. He felt something push against his chest when his vision finally cleared to reveal a very annoyed face glaring up at him.

“You’re too heavy! Get off!” 

Tetsutetsu gasped and pushed himself away. He immediately bowed apologetically. He gritted his teeth as his head pounded even harder when he bowed too quickly. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see where I was going! I’m so very sorry! A man shouldn’t run into people!”

The silver-haired male was expecting a good scolding and a hard hit to the head (courtesy of his internship with Fourth Kind). He waited for his punishment with bated breath, but what he received was a light scoff and a very familiar phrase.

“I should beat the snot out of you.”

Tetsutetsu felt his skin jump as he trailed his grey eyes from the scuffed shoes to the cocked hip to the crossed arms and to the smirk plastered on his childhood friend’s face.

You raised your eyebrow as you stared at your friend’s gapping face. Some things never change. Especially when it comes to the male in front of you. “Hiya, Tetsu!” 

A gasp fell from Tetsutetsu’s lips before he took a large step and engulfed your body in a tight hug. He bellowed out your name as he swung you back and forth effortlessly. Waves of laughter resounding through the neighborhood as everyone who passed by merely smiled and went about their day.

When a dizzying feeling brewed in the back of your head, you tapped Tetsutetsu’s shoulder to stop his excited yet incoherent rambling. Tetsutetsu kept his hands on your hips even after he placed you back on the ground. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long!” A shark-toothed grin spread across Tetsutetsu’s face as he felt the urge to engulf you in another hug. “Wow! You haven’t changed a bit!”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself away from Tetsutetsu. The quick disconnection made you miss the heavy feeling of Tetsutetsu’s hands on your hips. But you weren’t going to tell him that. His hands weren’t the only thing you’ve been missing lately. 

Unfortunately, the space between both of you created an opportunity for you to study Tetsutetsu’s features. This was not the scrawny kid that you used to tease endlessly. You were happy that he still had that wide shark-toothed grin on his face that seemed to spread his own enthusiasm to people around him. His gray hair was longer and messier than you remember and the sweat running down his face caused a few strands to plaster on his forehead. As your eyes continued to study his features, you felt your cheeks burn. You watched a single drop of sweat run down Tetsutetsu’s face and down to his chest. Your gray-haired childhood friend was now a muscular hero-in-training.

You stopped your thoughts from escalating any further. This was your childhood friend. You should not be admiring how big his arms looked. You cursed the sweltering summer heat and blamed it for the blush rising on your cheeks and the dizzying feeling in your head.

“Right back at you, steelhead.” You turned your back at him as you tried to control the uncomfortable heat that refused to leave your face. Instead, you turned your focus on your groceries that were haphazardly strewn all over the sidewalk. “Ah, the groceries!” you exclaimed as you quickly gathered the produce.

“Oh, here! Let me help!” 

Before you could stop him, Tetsutetsu already had the bags in one hand and a large watermelon in the other. You watched as he effortlessly carried the groceries you were struggling with a few minutes ago, especially the watermelon.

“You really didn’t have to, Tetsu.” 

As you made a move to grab the bags from Tetsutetsu, he shook his head and dodged your hands. “I want to. Plus, it would be unmanly of me if I just left you after I knocked you over. Now, let’s go.”

You cocked your head to the side as Tetsutetsu began to walk away from your stunned figure. You ran to catch up to him. A bit irked that he could carry your groceries so easily, but happy that you were able to walk side by side with him. “What about your training, Tetsu? Weren’t you in the middle of a run?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you.” There it was again. The crooked grin that seemed to make your cheeks flare up and heart skip more so than usual. 

“There’s that one-track mind again,” you mumbled as you remembered the times you had to keep Tetsutetsu in check before he ran off headfirst into anything he set his mind to. 

“What was that?” the gray-haired male cocked his head to the side.

“Nothing.”

Tetsutetsu wasn’t sure if it was from the summer heat or his morning run, but he felt his throat dry up as soon as you flashed him your bright smile. He merely cleared his throat and stared ahead as both of you walked the familiar path to your childhood home.

You unlocked the gate and led Tetsutetsu into your house. “My parents aren’t home right now, so we should be alone for a bit.”

Tetsutetsu stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard your words. Alone? With you? In your house? Tetsutetsu has been to your house many times, but your parents were always home. He remembered the time he would come by after school so that you could tutor him and occasionally train with him. But now he was here. Alone. With you. In your house. 

“Are you sure? Is it ok?” Tetsutetsu murmured as he hesitantly stepped over the threshold. 

“Of course,” you shrugged as you placed house slippers on the floor for Tetsutetsu to use. You grabbed the groceries from his hands as you struggled to carry them to the kitchen. You ignored Tetsutetsu’s protests as you made your way in the kitchen. “Why don’t I cut up some watermelon for us? I’ll meet you by the porch.”

Tetsutetsu nodded as he watched your figure disappear into the kitchen. He walked through your house and made his way to the back porch, where both of you used to spend time playing during elementary school or lazily lounge around during middle school. The silver-haired male plopped himself down with a loud thump on the wooden porch. With a sigh, he leaned back on his arms as he soaked in the summer heat. While he enjoyed his time training to become a hero at U.A, he missed the days where he would spend the afternoons with you on this very porch. 

His fingers grazed against the old wood, smiling when he noticed all the carvings both of you had drawn over the years. A badly drawn horse. Some squiggles that resembled a snake. A few games of tic-tac-toe. His name and your name with a plus sign in between. A symbol of friendship that he cherished more than anything.

Tetsutetsu let out a muffled groan into his hands as the sickening feeling in his stomach began to rise. He didn’t understand why he was feeling this way. You were his best friend. You were the one that encouraged him to become a hero. You were the one who trained and tutored him for his UA entrance exams. You were there for him more than anybody else. He should be thankful, not feeling like his heart would run out of his chest every time he saw you.

The gray-haired hero-in-training thought that these feelings would go away once he started U.A. And they did for a while because he was focused on his goal to become the number one hero. Nothing else mattered but what he needed to do to become a hero.

Except during the times he would rest and relax after a long training session. His brain always went back to the moments he spent with you. It always made him feel more energized because he knew you still were cheering him on. 

“Hey, what’s going on in that empty steel trap?” 

Tetsutetsu jumped and swiveled his head towards your voice. He felt a rush of heat rise on his cheeks as you smiled down at his surprised face. 

You held up the plate of sliced watermelons in your hands as you made your way towards Tetsutetsu. He moved himself over to make room for you as you placed the plate in between you and Tetsutetsu. “Eat up, Tetsu.”

“Thanks,” Tetsutetsu grunted as he reached for a piece of watermelon. His gray eyes trailed to your figure as he watched you happily take bite after bite of the summer fruit. 

He grinned as he took his own bite of the watermelon in his hands. He relished the way the juices spread across his tongue, uncaring that a few droplets of juice were flowing down his chin.

“You’re as messy as ever, Tets,” you giggled as you watched Tetsutetsu grab another piece of watermelon while the collar of his shirt was soaked by the extra watermelon juices. Tetsutetsu merely cocked his head toward you and flashed a shark-toothed grin before he bit down on another piece of watermelon. 

You bit down on your own piece as you enjoyed the atmosphere between you and the silver-haired male beside you. You sighed at the refreshing feeling and taste of the watermelon in your mouth. It brought you back to the summer days spent with Tetsutetsu. Your mother always had watermelon ready for both of you to devour after a long study session. You and your best friend would always see who could eat the most.

“Hey.” You were pulled out of your thoughts when Tetsutetsu nudged your shoulder. You looked towards him and tried to stifle your laughter as Tetsutetsu began to spit watermelon seeds out of his mouth. Some traveled far while others dropped right between his legs.

The gray-haired male grinned as he listened to your melodious laughter. He loved your laugh. When he decided to become a hero, he swore he would protect you and your happiness at all costs. Your laughter always made him feel like a true hero each and every time.

“Hey, Tetsu.” You pulled a seed from your watermelon as Tetsutetsu turned his attention towards you. Without a second to waste, you stuck a watermelon seed on his forehead and smiled at his dumbfounded look. “Hurry and make a wish!”

“Wuh?” Before Tetsutetsu could say anything, the watermelon seed dropped from his forehead and landed with a plop on the wooden porch.

“Aw, you were supposed to make a wish,” you pouted as you stared dejectedly at the little black seed. 

“Wait! Wait! I wasn’t ready!” Tetsutetsu pulled himself closer to you as he stared expectantly at your widened gaze. “Do it again!”

A dark blush painted across your cheeks when you realized how close Tetsutetsu was. You admired his long eyelashes while the summer sun shimmered in his gray irises. He still had that light scar on his chin from when he accidentally clipped his chin on the park playground when you were little. You could not get yourself to look away. He had that determined look in his face that promised the impossible. His endless amount of confidence and stubbornness has always surprised you in any and all situations. Even to this day.

You gulped as you picked up another seed from your watermelon and placed it on Tetsutetsu’s forehead. You pressed a bit harder, making sure that it wouldn’t fall off as quickly as the first one. You stared into Tetsutetsu’s gray eyes and said, “Make a wish.”

The next thing Tetsutetsu did broke every rule ever made when it comes to best friends. Especially childhood best friends. He was sure that he would end up in the deepest parts of hell made for ruining friendships with one simple forbidden act.

Tetsutetsu gulped down his fears and pushed forward. Literally pushed forward and collided against your forehead. He did it while lightly brushing his lips against yours, but the initial pain of foreheads colliding caused you to pull away from the silver-haired male.

“Oww.” You rubbed your forehead as you turned away from Tetsutetsu. You tried to hide the blush on your face as you felt the soft pressure still lingering on your lips. You weren’t sure which pressure to focus on. The pain on your forehead or the softness on your lips.

“I’m so sorry! That was really unmanly of me! I didn’t know what came over me! I’m so sorry!” Tetsutetsu rumbled on as he tried to fix the situation. You and Kendo always berated him for not thinking before he acted. This was definitely a time when he should have used his head (the right way). The silver-haired male hid his reddened face into his large hands as he wished he was as small as the seeds strewn across the yard.

You looked over at a hunched over Tetsutetu while he continued to apologize and berate himself for being so unmanly. While you were initially surprised at Tetsutetsu’s bold act, you were a bit happy that he made the first move before you. He definitely had more guts than you, which was another thing you liked about him.

“Tetsu.” No reply. “Tetsu.” You placed a hand on his shoulder. Still no reply. “Tetsu!” This time you pulled his messy gray hair until he stared at you with an unfamiliar look him his eyes. Fear. Uncertainty. Shame. Definitely not the Tetsutetsu that you’ve known for years, but you also knew what could turn him back.

“It’s okay.” You flashed Tetsutetsu a bright grin as you pulled his face up. You kept your hands on his face, reveling at the warm feeling spreading across your palms. “Did your wish come true?”

It was Tetsutetsu’s turn. His face was as red as the watermelon slices sitting by your laps. He could not stop the blush from running across his cheeks. Nor could he control the way his heart quickened with every second that passed by. He bit his lip as he stared down at your soft lips, reveling at the way he pressed his own against them while simultaneously knocking his abnormally hard forehead against your own.

“I-I think so?”

“Good, cause it’s my turn to make a wish!” 

It’s official. 

Tetsutetsu had zero thoughts in his brain. 

He could not compute a single thought as he felt your hands pull his face closer to yours. He could not get himself to pull away as he felt himself tremble under your fingertips. He gulped when he felt your breath tickle his lips. Tetsutetsu tightly shut his eyes, patiently waiting for the soft pressure that would once again dance across his lips.

But it never came.

Tetsutetsu opened his eyes when he felt the soft pressure on his cheek instead. He stared at you in confusion as you grinned up at him.

“On second thought, I think my wish already came true!”

-Time Skip-

“Bro! I don’t know what to do!” Kirishima exclaimed as he plopped down on the couch. He had a drink clutched on his left hand while his right arm rested dramatically across his eyes.

“What’s going on, bro?” Tetsutetsu inquired as he cocked his head towards one of his fellow sidekicks. He placed a plate of sliced watermelon in front of his best friend as he patiently waited for him to elaborate.

The red-haired male sighed as he grabbed a slice of watermelon and bit a large piece off. A small pout rested on his chiseled face. “There’s this girl-”

“Ohhhhhh.” Kirishima groaned at the Cheshire grin plastered across the gray-haired male’s face. “A girl, huh?”

“Bro, shut up or I’m going to leave.”

“Alright. Alright.” Tetsutetsu chuckled as he draped an arm across Kirishima’s shoulders and gave him a sly grin. “So, this girl? How’d you meet her?”

The red-haired sidekick rolled his eyes and grabbed another piece of watermelon. “That’s the thing, dude. I haven’t officially met her.” Tetsutetsu shot him a look of confusion. “I saw her once while I was out on patrol.”

Tetsutetsu rested his chin on his fist as he stared expectantly at his red-haired best friend. “What? D’you save her or something?” 

“No.”

“Saw her at a bar?”

“No.”

“Then what happened, bro?”

Kirishima groaned as he dramatically flopped his head against the back of the couch. A light blush spread across his cheeks at the sudden thought of the girl. “I saw her standing in the middle of the rain and I don’t even know how to describe it. It was like I was mesmerized and I couldn’t look away. And when she left, it was like she took a piece of me with her.”

“A piece of you? Are you sure, dude?”

Kirishima could feel the endearing grin shot his way by the gray-haired male beside him. “Yes, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her since.” The red-haired sidekick turned to his friend, a dejected look spread across his face. “What do I do, bro?”

As much as Tetsutetsu enjoyed teasing his best friend, he knew that his bro needed his help. He looked around the room as he thought about what he could do to help his fellow sidekick. While he has been in a very long and serious relationship, he wasn’t really an expert. Maybe when it came to hand-to-hand combat, he would happily help his best bro-friend. But love? That was kind of your expertise.

Then his eyes landed on the tiny, tear-drop shaped, black objects that were contained in the summer fruit in front of them.

He grabbed the small object and thrust it in front of Kirishima’s confused face. 

“A watermelon seed?” Kirishima asked.

“Trust me, bro.”

[sheyshocked]

Of golden mirrors and secret admirers (1/6)

Summary: After graduating from the Mage’s College, Simon becomes a resident mage of a small village called Far Waters, aiding those who need it with a word or a spell alike. It’s a decent job, and he comes to like it very much, but there’s something that makes it difficult. His feelings for Markus, a son of a local rich artist.

When Markus seeks him out one day, asking for advice on how to woo his love interest who barely even notices him, Simon has to set his love for the boy aside to help him win his special someone’s affection.

Ship: Simon/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: None

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fluff, Unrequited Love, or is it?!, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Misunderstandings, Eventual Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Simon (Detroit: Become Human) is a Mage, Bisexual Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Age Difference, but only by a few years, Angst

A/N: This is my second bigger AU and I’m so excited to finally be able to show you, guys! I even made a moodboard for this on canva (it’s my first attempt, so be gentle, please!) Anyway, enjoy!

Most young and ambitious students of magical arts fresh out of college would take it as a personal offense to be sent as resident mages to a small backwater village such as Far Waters. But Simon would have it no other way.

He preferred the quiet solitude over the overwhelming bustle of the capital city. Besides, people of Far Waters were decent, honest folk, so different from the pretentious crowd he was used to back at home, and guarding sheep from an occasional thief or a pack of wolves and healing woodworking injuries proved to be much less stressful than dealing with pesky nobles. There was only one trouble that was making his work somewhat challenging.

The trouble by the name of Markus Manfred.

Markus was a son of an aging once well-known painter who decided to retreat with his small family from the capital city to Far Waters. Born in wealth and luxury, Simon at first expected him to be one of those spoiled rich-kids that always get what they want without any consequences. So he kept a close eye on him in case he would like to cause trouble. But to his great surprise, Markus turned out to be anything but a privileged brat.

He was very kind and sweet, always lending a helping hand around the village, and so eager to hear Simon’s stories about his college days. For someone so young, he had an incredible talent for leadership, knew perfectly how to rally up his neighbors for a good cause (be it rescuing a lamb that tumbled down into the river or helping a boy who got bit by a snake). And as chance would have it, he was also a drop-dead gorgeous man just a few years Simon’s junior who was getting both men and women swooning.

That last part was probably the biggest issue.

It started slowly without him even noticing, but soon enough, Simon became completely smitten by Markus’ charms. He wouldn’t hesitate to court him if he were just a little bit better match. But alas, no amount of money he could raise from his status of resident mage (which wasn’t that much, considering he refused additional payment from poor farmers who barely had any coin to spare, too) would be enough to afford him the luxury Markus was used to. Besides, it was no secret that he had far better suitors.

There were rumors in the streets that he had a thing for North, one of the Far Water’s fiercest hunters, and people expected them to get married in a year or two. So, there was no place for Simon in his life. Not at all.

Which was why it baffled him so much when he found the boy sitting at the front porch of his house one day, waiting for him to come home.

“Sir, please, you must help me!” Markus cried out as soon as he saw him returning from the mill where he was helping the miller’s wife deliver her fifth baby. He was on the verge of passing out with exhaustion, but the urgency in the boy’s tone instantly made him snap out of it and focus on whatever was troubling him.

“What’s wrong, Markus? Is it your father again?”

Carl Manfred was seriously ill since, well, ever since Simon remembered, but with each passing year, he required more and more medical attention. The mage even suggested to him once or twice that he should seek out help at the capital city where he would get far better treatment, but the stubborn old man refused to even think about it. He said that all he wanted was to die in peace at home. With Markus by his side.

“Oh, no, no, dad is fine, that new medicine you gave him last time seems to be working like a miracle. It’s just, well… I need to talk to you about something. In private. If you have time, of course.” Markus gave him a glance over and Simon thanked the divines that he had enough reason to scrub all the mess off of himself right at the mill’s well. The water was freezing, but at least he didn’t reek with filth now. That wouldn’t leave the best impression. “Don’t get me wrong, sir, but you look like you could use some rest.”

He had a point. But Simon always cared more about the others than himself. Especially if that someone one particular emerald-eyed son of a local painter. “It’s alright – I’m not that tired yet. Come in, then. Let’s see what I can do for you.”

***

Markus was unusually nervous, almost fidgeting with panicked energy. Even more so since Simon asked him to sit down by the dining table so they could talk it through (he even offered him some tea and his famous cookies as usual, but the young lad said no to both – weird, because he would usually jump after any opportunity to get some cookies). It was making Simon worry. What could be so important and yet so taboo it was this hard to talk about?

His head immediately started coming up with tons of catastrophic scenarios, and Markus’ initial silence wasn’t helping much.

Thankfully, the boy found his voice soon, even though it was hushed and uncertain.

“Sir, I… think I fell in love with someone.”

Ah. It was a tale old as the time itself, one that Simon heard in this very same room over and over again, from people both young and old, rich or poor. But not once from Markus’ lips. It made his heart sink with a cold, empty feeling, partly relieved that it didn’t turn out to be something far worse, but also full of remorse and self-pity.

He knew it would happen eventually. Just not like this. Not right now.

Still, he forced himself to smile. It was a terrible, empty grimace, and he hoped Markus wouldn’t notice. “That’s wonderful! There’s nothing quite like a young love blossoming for the first time.” Bloody hypocrite. “But I guess that’s not all there’s to it, am I right? You wouldn’t be asking for help otherwise.”

Markus sighed. “You are right. It’s much more… complicated. You see, I try very hard to impress them every day, but they still barely spare me a glance. I mean, they sometimes look, but I guess they don’t see me as a potential partner.” He looked up straight at Simon. “You probably have much more experience than I do, sir, so please, tell me – is there a way for me to win their affection somehow?”

Wish I knew of one before, Simon smirked sadly but kept it to himself.

“Possibly. But I’m afraid my knowledge won’t be much of a use in matters of the heart.” He noticed Markus’s mournful expression and hurried to add: “Doesn’t mean I won’t try to help you the best I can. Now, tell me something about that person. Who are they?”

He didn’t need to know. In fact, it would be better for him not to know. But he couldn’t help himself – sleepiness always made him a little bit reckless. Bet he knew the answer anyway.

“Well…” The boy rubbed the back of his neck with a dreamy look in his eyes. Poor fool. He really was in too deep. “They are very nice. Always trying to aid those in need.”

So far, it didn’t sound much like North. At least not the North Simon met when he came to Far Waters. Since then, he has learned that she just requires time to warm up to a person before she shows them her more nurturing, protective nature.

“They are also really smart. Oh, and they have the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen, but rarely show it. I love making them laugh, just to get a glimpse of that smile.”

“I see,” Simon turned away from him, pretending he needed to check whether or not the fireplace has enough kindling, but it was only a rouse to make sure Markus won’t spot his saddened face. He should be happy for him, and yet, he couldn’t force himself to be. “You must really love that person.”

Markus groaned. “I do. By the divines, I do. But they won’t notice me. What should I do to make them think of me, not as of a friend, but as a potential suitor?”

Simon thought for a second. Love couldn’t be forced, not even by all of the magic in the whole wide world. But it could be helped, so to speak. A small smile graced upon his thin lips. “I think I have just the thing for you.”

It was then that Markus suddenly hesitated, like he has realized something very important. “It’s not some sort of mind trickery, is it? I don’t want to force them to fall in love with me, just… make them consider me an option.”

“Be at ease, boy. No foul magic here. Just little something that should help you catch their attention. Whether or not they end up liking you is entirely up to fate. You are very noble for making sure, though.”

Markus puffed out his chest like some giant pigeon at the praise, probably just to playfully show off, but it still made Simon laugh, despite himself.

He got up, walked across the room to an old wooden dresser, and started rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. A beautiful gilded hand-mirror. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly the fanciest item he owned.

He cleared it using his sleeve, and while doing so, he recalled every single one of Markus’ desirable traits, from his inner beauty to the outer, his endearing little quirks and moments of grace, and cast a simple spell, trapping that image inside the mirror, so every time he looked into it, the world would see him through Simon’s eyes. In a sense, he poured in all of his love for the boy and hid it behind a wall of a cloudy glass, which was now glittering softly.

This is probably the closest I will ever get to telling him, Simon smiled, a little sadly, before turning around and showing his piece of work to Markus.

“Here, take this. It belonged to my mother. Bring it home and use it to groom yourself in the morning. No one will be able to keep their eyes off of you. Not even your blushing sweetheart-to-be, with a little brush of luck.”

Markus just stared at the mirror for a while, unwilling to take the offered gift. “Sir, wait, that’s… I can’t. I can’t take something so valuable from you.”

That made Simon blink at him owlishly like a complete moron. Most of his family never cared much for him, his twin brother Daniel being the only exception, so he didn’t think twice about giving away something that used to belong to them – but to Markus, family was everything. So he waved him off with a reassuring smile: “Ah, it’s alright. You can give it back to me on the day of your wedding.”

Markus suddenly lightened up, beaming at him like a ray of sunshine as he took hold of the mirror. “That’s a splendid idea! Yes, yes, I shall do that! Thank you so much, sir! You gave me back hope!”

Then he did something that caught Simon completely off guard – he wrapped his hands around him in a tight, nearly bruising hug.

This was the first time Markus has ever dared to cross the distance between them and touch the mage, always mindful of his social status (villagers were taught young to show respect towards their protectors – and that was all fine and dandy with Simon most of the time, but sometimes, it made him feel like he could forget that he was only a man too). It made his heart soar.

Such a strange feeling, to finally be able to hug the man that has been plaguing his dreams for a long time (he was slightly shorter than him, but only by an inch or so, and smelled of pinewood and dusty canvas – Simon was sure that he won’t be ever able to erase those small adorable details from his mind now, even if he tried), only to say goodbye and leave him for someone else. Tears gathered in the mage’s crystal blue eyes, but he forced them back. It’s gonna be alright. He will get over this. Eventually.

At least he hoped so.

He ended up the hug with an awkward pat on Markus’ shoulders (very solid and sturdy, if he may add) and a hollow chuckle: “Now now, that’s enough, boy. It’s time for you to go. It seems like I may need to take a nap after all.”

The boy immediately let him go almost like he got startled by his own insolence, color rising high to his already dark cheeks. Simon didn’t even know the boy could blush at all. It was so cute. “Ah, right! Sorry. Sleep well, sir. Hope to see you tomorrow at the market.”

“Me too, Markus. Me too.”

Simon ended up crying himself to sleep that day, feeling like a complete coward.

[soundofseventeen]

Too Late (Vernon Chwe)

for the record bee told me to write an angst and she picked the boy 💛💚

Vernon paced the hallway, trying to work up the courage to do what he came here to do. He was fully aware that he had no idea how this would go, but once he found out where you were he knew he had to at least try. You were definitely his biggest regret, and if he had a chance to possibly fix things, he had to try. 

You two had met a few years earlier, just two young people with dreams bigger than you could even grasp. You both had a deep love for making music, and the similar tastes between you only brought you closer and closer. His members always used to tease him, both in front of and nowhere near you, saying that he had met his own soulmate. You both just pretended you didn’t notice the burning in your cheeks, waving them off and saying they were being ridiculous. 

But you both couldn’t deny it forever. You couldn’t deny the fact that every time your hands brushed you both retracted so quickly no one could have ever known it happened. You couldn’t deny the grins that came to your faces when you thought about each other or when someone mentioned either of you. You especially couldn’t deny it when you quickly kissed him before leaving the company one day, leaving Vernon frozen in the hallway until Seungkwan and Chan found him, smacking his head to bring him back to reality. 

You two remained private to the world, but quickly became public within the company. None of the other trainees were surprised to see you two holding hands as you walked down the hallway. No one was ever surprised at the way you two always wound up next to each other when in the same room, or when you both stayed to rehearse together, or when you would work on songs together. You became quite a set. 

Finally, Vernon’s group debuted. You were so proud of him, and all his members. Even if your group had no sign of debuting any time soon, you were thriving as you watched his group grow. It made you so happy to watch him glow like this, having people seeing his talent. It did add a little tension to your relationship, where he wasn’t around as often therefore you didn’t get to see each other as often. 

After you officially got the news that your group wasn’t debuting, you had re-evaluated your career choices. Some of your members stayed at this company, some went to another company, some just left the industry all together and went home. You considered your options, thinking it over. You slowly realized that you really weren’t cut out for the idol life, therefore you started looking at other careers you could have with your skill sets. You spent some time working with Bumzu, only to figure out that you really weren’t up to producing. It was still something to distract you while Vernon wasn’t around and you were waiting out your contract to expire. 

Vernon was supportive of you not continuing this path, at least that’s what he said when you called him about it while he was at a fansign in another country. You really hadn’t seen him much in the months before that, but you still got to talk to him periodically. You hadn’t told him about your career choice until your contract was officially up, since you mostly kept it to yourself. 

Turns out, not being at Pledis everyday made it even harder to see Vernon. Before you could at least see him when he was home, even if it was for bits and pieces between rehearsals. Now, you almost never saw him. You knew his schedule and how hectic it would get sometimes. It got hard to even talk to him. Plus as you started teaching music classes at one of the local schools, which ended up being a lot more fun than you thought it would be. With the combo of your two schedules, it almost became impossible to see each other. 

Eventually, you hit a point where you almost never talked to him. It got to a point that you were consistently being asked by friends to set you up, which then you had to deal with the look of confusion on their face as they asked if you two were really still together. After about the tenth time of having a friend ask you that, you started to wonder. Were you really in a relationship anymore? Or had things just become too different for you two now? 

So, you decided to talk to him about it. You didn’t want to lose him, even if you kind of already had, so you were really hoping you two could work out a way to make this work. Try and find ways to be able to see each other more or communicate more. After about 14 reschedules, you finally managed to get a chance meet up with him at the company. 

It felt weird to be back there, especially since you hadn’t been there for about a year or so. It was familiar, but also you didn’t know as many people. Some people recognized you, getting very excited and running over to say hi to you. It made you happy that they were so happy to see you, some even telling you where Vernon was right now, figuring you had to be there to see him. 

It was kind of awkward when you finally got to the studio Vernon was in, Jihoon working at the computer next to him. After a quick look from Vernon told Jihoon to leave though, muttering something about going to get dinner. The conversation you had was even awkward, just some small talk leading up to the conversation in question. 

After you finished expressing your thoughts about what you could do, Vernon stayed quiet for a bit. Then he muttered something that you didn’t even want to admit was an option from this conversation. He said clearly that was the only option here, that it wasn’t fair to either of you to keep trying to stop the inevitable. You both sat in silence for a minute, each of you trying to process the words that now hung in the air. You asked him if he was sure, and he just nodded his head. You simply said fine, getting up and getting out of the studio before you started to cry, starting to run as soon as you got into the hallway, completely ignoring the people calling your name as you ran out the front door of the building. 

After you left, Vernon remained standing for a while. He started to feel numb as he processed what just happened, but he knew that it had to be done. He had half a mind to run after you, but he knew you. He knew that you would much rather be alone right now than to be pushed into another conversation. Besides, he really knew this was for the best. It had to be. There was no way you two could continue this way. So instead, he threw his phone at the couch in frustration, watching as it bounced off the couch and landed with a heavy thud on the floor. He stared at his phone for a minute, before sitting down and putting his head in his hands, letting the loud sigh fall from him. 

And that was the last time Vernon actually saw you. 

So now Vernon stood in the hall of an unfamiliar school, watching through the door as the music teacher finished putting things away for the day. He had heard from Soonyoung that you had quit your job and relocated, but apparently you wouldn’t tell Soonyoung where. It must have been easier for you to just cut all of his members out afterwards. It took a while, but he eventually found out which school you ended up teaching at. It wasn’t too far out of Seoul, and Vernon wasn’t too surprised by that. You liked being near the city. Even still, he really didn’t believe you would be here until until he saw you. 

His mind ran through how this would go the whole drive here. There were a few ways this could go. There was a chance you would be happy to see him. There was a chance you would tell him to get the hell out of there. There was a chance you might have forgotten about him. There was even a chance you might want to try things again. There were a lot of chances here, and each one held him back from officially knocking on the door. Hell, he could turn around right now and no one would know he was even ever here (well, aside from the secretary he checked in with). 

You looked mostly the same. You had changed your hair though. He supposed people did that over the years, who knows how many hairstyles he has had since he last saw you. 

He took one last deep breath, holding up a hand to knock on the door. His fist was a breath away from hitting the wood when he froze, the door on the other side of the room opening. 

Vernon stood frozen, watching as a man walked in, you having not noticed yet. He watched as this man, someone he had seen before, snuck up on you, quickly tickling your sides as your loud laugh shrieked out of you, causing you to turn around and hit the smiling man. Your voice was muffled to Vernon, but he knew from the smile on your face that this guy was special to you. You used to look at him like that. You reached up a hand to move some hair from the guys face, and that’s when Vernon saw it. 

The sparkling diamond ring on your finger. 

He was too late. 

He was far too late. 

Slowly Vernon’s hand lowered back to his side, his eyes only looking away when you kissed him. Vernon quickly shook his head, glancing up one more time to see you two close together, bright smiles on your faces, before turning down the hall he came from. He stopped at the secretary’s desk, politely asking her if she could not mention that he had come today to you, which she agreed to, albeit confused. 

Once Vernon got back to his car, he let his head rest on the seat, taking another deep breath. 

He came for you too late, and you would never know. 

[sunflowers-heart]

Home

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word count: 3,622

Warnings: None

Author’s note: None

Synopsis: Persuaded by his closest ones, Thorin agrees to hire an artist to paint a portrait of him and soon finds out that it might be the best kind of coincindence that has ever happened to him—and for you, too.

The King under the Mountain was standing still, eyes focused on something behind your back, his posture straight and proud, and for a single moment you started to believe that it was a majestic statue you were looking at, not the very alive and equally intimidating Thorin Oakenshield himself. Slowly, your sight moved to the canvas, carefully, as if you were afraid that this movement could cause too much noise in the deadly silent room. Soft strokes of the brush left a trail of beige paint on the creamy fabric, following by the next one and another, until you needed to dip the brush in the pigment again. Holding your breath, you proceeded with your work, the trembling of your fingers now not as visible as an hour ago when you had just saw him for the first time.

To say that you were surprised while receiving a message considering your new job would be a misunderstanding. You were beyond shocked, a bizzare combination of anxiety and excitement building up in your stomach when your gaze ghosted over the inked letters, as if you were expecting them to lose the first meaning if you stared long enough. Nevertheless, they remained the same, unmoving and very, very clear about the sender's intentions.

You were invided to the Lonely Mountain, the kingdom of Erebor you have heard a lot about as a child in various stories and legends, and spent many sleepless nights wondering how did it look like in a more merciful times. Right now, however, the mere possibility of wandering through its halls seemed too unreal, like a dream you could not wake up from no matter how many times you blinked or put the letter down only to pick it up after barely few minutes. The letters were still there though, black ink sinked in the yellowed paper, so heavy in your hands.

Placing the wooden palette on the side, you walked to Thorin, your palms suddenly becoming treacherously sweaty, betraying your nervousness in the latest person you wanted to show any weakness to. Delicately, as if his frame was made of a fragile glass (oh, sweet irony, for you have never witnessed anyone as strong and powerful as him), you grabbed the edge of his fur coat and moved it slightly up over his shoulder, since it must have accidentally slipped down a little bit, now not suiting the sketch on your canvas and changing the way the shadows fell upon his armoured torso. You could feel the intensity of his gaze on you, although he remained silent, allowing you to touch and change the way he was standing to your liking—so the painting you were working on would be as breathtaking as Balin promised him to be.

„A painting?” Thorin asked back then and took a sip of an ale from his wooden beer mug. „I do not need a painting.”

„Of course you do not,” Balin nodded understandingly. „The palace is already full of the monuments of your ancestors and soon yours also. What I think is that, it would be an interesting difference.”

„Paintings are fragile, they won't endure the pass of time.”

„Prehaps they will, if you only give it a chance.”

„Plus...” Kíli, who was obviously eavesdropping the whole conversation, sat next to his uncle with an alarmingly wide smile on his face. „Currently there is a great opportunity to try this out!”

Thorin eyed him cautiously, never truly considering anything Kíli called 'great' as such. 'Dangerous' maybe, 'reckless' even, but never 'great'.

„Indeed, it is,” Fíli took a seat on his other side, so Thorin had nowhere to escape this pointless discussion.

Groaning deeply, he took another sip of an ale.

„Listen, uncle,” Kíli continued, despite his partner in coversation being less than interested in what did he have to say. ��Yesterday we have met a wonderful painter in Dale. Amazingly skilled. At least few years of experience. But what is the most important, is that she is a globetrotter. A lone ranger.”

„Which only means that she must not be as clever as you take her for, Kíli, to travel those lands all alone.” Thorin's remark was almost enough to wipe the smile off this nephew's face.

„Prehaps. Prehaps she is also a fool to paint for barely few silver coins or a warm meal and a place to stay for the night but isn't it what makes it all special? The dream, whatever it is, she is following? Despite what anyone says? Ignoring the danger? Eating the fear for breakfast?” With every word passing, Kíli was getting closer to Thorin, his voice lowering almost to the conspirational whisper before he laughed and straightened his back. „Come on, it does sound familiar.”

„Why does it mean so much for you?” Thorin peeked at him and then to the other side, at his brother who was only listening for now, surely ready to intervene. „Why the bloody painting?”

„Because you have been working so much lately, you need some kind of entertainment.” Apparently, it was Fíli's turn to speak. „A relieve from all the stress and burden. Something different to think of, a breath of fresh air.”

„And how is standing in a single place for hours going to help?”

Fíli only shrugged. „It could be fun. If you won't like it then you can destroy the painting and we promise to never ask you that again. Ever. Am I right, Kíli?”

„Absolutely!”

Later on, Thorin could not point out what exactly made him agree for his nephews' wicked offer. Maybe it was an ale, maybe he was feeling particulary tired that evening and simply wanted them to leave him be or maybe he knew that he truly needed some rest for his mind. It has been a long time since his Company reclaimed the Lonely Mountain and ever since he rarely thought about anything else than his duties—the neverending pile of problems which seemed to grow as he reached deeper, like a wild weeds devouring the garden he was desperately trying to tame. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, under every stone there was more; more things to take care of, more decisions to make, more sleepless nights. Only the time seemed to shrink.

When he stood in the room, the sunlight spilling on the floor by his feet, Thorin thought that maybe it was not such a bad idea, after all. Your gaze was soft but attentive, remembering the details of his royal outfit and recreating them on the canvas. It was a talent he never considered particulary useful but it could have some advantages, indeed.

Like the fact that he could look at your lovely face for how long he wanted, never getting caught as you were too focused on the paths left by your brush.

„Where do you come from?” he asked the first day, right after you explained your vision to him, not without a stutter or two.

You looked at him puzzled, at first not really convinced that he actually asked it out loud, for his posture did not move a bit.

„Nowhere,” you told him and cleared the throat before continuing. „And everywhere. I like to consider this whole world as my home. That way you never feel like an unwelcomed guest, no matter where you go.”

„The place you were born,” he added, his voice low and demanding, used to giving orders and having them accomplished in a blink of an eye. „Do you ever miss it?”

You were afraid of the subject, aware that speaking further seemed more like wandering on a thin ice. The King almost sacrificed everything just so he could have a place to call home, and then, there was a human telling stories about how did it never matter. And so, you decided to tell him the truth.

„I was never happy in a place I was born. It made me feel trapped.”

He did not elaborate on the subject and you knew better than to continue. You have almost finished colouring his face that day, the handsome, royal features staying under your eyelids long after you have fallen asleep.

The next morning, you were invited for breakfast with Thorin's nephews, the ones you had a dubious pleasure of meeting during your stay in Dale. Although you were not convinced that it was a good idea to ask you to paint the king—the King under the Mountain, that is!—eventually you were quite grateful for their idea. You could not remember when was the last time you had such a delicious food in your mouth and a soft mattress under your spine to rest. Furthermore, you were promised to not only get a shelter while you were working, but also a payment you deserved, which only made you more nervous about what will Thorin think about the result. For the first four hours you have spent with him alone in your temporary study room, you could already tell that there were not many things which could make him at least content.

You wondered, how did he look like when he smiled, how did the tone of his voice change when he laughed.

„Could you...” you started, still desperately wanting to sound as polite as possible, which was quite hard, considering the situation you were in—telling the King where should he stand and look. „Could you, please, move a little bit to the right, My King...?”

You could swear there was a spark of amusement in his eyes before he took a step as you asked.

„'My King' is not necessary,” he informed you and in the very second he finished the sentence you wished for the ground to open and swallow you up.

„Oh.” You blinked few times. „My apologies, I have never... I was talking to your nephews and they told me it will be the best way to politely adress you.”

„Of course they did...” he sighed. „I am not your king and as far as I am concerned, nobody is.”

You barely managed to finish the outline or his armour that evening, way too lost in thoughts to focus on the job and Thorin did not seem to mind, not then, nor the day after when you met him in your study room, puctual as always.

You told him the stories from the lands you have travelled through before reaching Dale, some of them more or less interesting, but he was listening to you nevertheless, the sound of your voice echoing in the room bringing peace to his mind. Living for so many years, Thoring managed to visit most places you were still under the huge impression of, the images of different landscapes sharp and vivid in his memory as if it was yesterday. Looking at you, so eager to go further north, to experience and live, was truly a breath of fresh air in the dark halls of Erebor. The light burning in the shadows.

Thorin have never cared for the painting in the first place, after weeks of your presence in the kingdom, however, he found himself caring about it even less—despising the canvas, although you asked him to not look at it until it will be finished. Once you will be done with your work, he will have to pay you few golden coins, as promised, and let you go, only to be left alone once again, without your stories, without your voice, without your smile, without your mere presence shining brighter than the sun high on the sky. He admired you; the way your fingers moved the brush, the way your brows furrowed when you were particulary focused on a single detail of the painting, the way you laughed in the dining halls during breakfast, amused by something silly either Fíli or Kíli said, the way you walked down the corridors heading to your bedroom. Your presence was now so natural there, as if you were meant to be in the Lonely Mountain, like a long lost piece to finally make his kingdom whole.

He knew that the day when you will go on, will be the day when his heart will break in two also.

In no time, Thorin began to somehow admire the characteristic smell of terpentine filling the study room every evening, when you were cleaning your brushes and palette knives from the paint. It reminded him of you and your skills, and everytime he joined you there for a small chat, he observed the way your fingers gracefully moved with the tools. Your hands were not as rough as his, probably never wielding a sword nor holding a shield, but no less admirable. He would have laugh in the face of those, who would dare to tell him, barely few months ago, that one day he might grow fond of the delicate skin, the one he often mocked, considering it as a proof of a lesser work.

„I was wondering,” you started, placing a thin brush on the table covered with fabric next to you. „Could you tell me the story of your Company?”

Thorin looked up at you from his seat, the leather armchair in the corner of the room he tended to use whenever feeling particulary tired by the presence of the others. Never yours, though, for your presence was as natural as breathing.

„I believe everyone knows this story already, you and your kin included. There were legends, even.”

„Legends usually tell only half of the truth. The other half is made up by those who speak and I wish to hear it from the most reliable source. That would be an unforgettable experience.”

„I am curious how listening to an old Dwarf can be considered as a gained experience for ones like you.”

„And now I am curious how can you think it is not,” you admitted. „You are the King under the Mountain, you have seen and lived through more than I will ever do. It is a miracle that I can at least imagine your journey, but I do not want to hear about it from the mouths of people from Dale, nor Elves from Mirkwood. I wish to hear it from you, this is all I ask for.”

Thorin thought for a while, the innocent fascination in your eyes reminding him of the times he was nowhere near being the king you could admire. Lost, bruised and beaten but never broken—standing proudly like his own reflection on your canvas.

„Sit down,” he eventually told you. „I have to warn you that this is a very long story.”

„I do hope so.”

It surprised you, when you realized that you have been starting to slow down with your work—unlike all the past times. You liked the finish, putting some white paint there and there, giving the picture a new perspective, exposing the light and deepening the darkness, but when you looked at Thorin's eyes, now staring right at you from the canvas, you found yourself rather downhearted than satisfied. Your time in Erebor was growing short, it was just a matter of days until you will have to part with the Dwarves and move on, find another model to portray and a new place to stay.

But how could you do that, if you felt like you had all your inspiration there, in this very place? As irrationally it sounded, you believed that the King under the Mountain was the muse you were looking for for all those years. He was the one you could look at and paint for the rest of your days and never get bored, the one which caused you to smile everytime you opened your eyes in the morning, ready to face the day. He made your heart beat so fast, now not due to the anxiety, but the possibility of seeing him and feeling his eyes upon you.

The realization struck you like a lightning when you were painting strands of his silver hair on the dark locks falling on his broad shoulders.

You loved him.

You loved your muse, your inspiration, your king.

You had to bite your lip to prevent the involuntary smile to appear on your face. Prehaps you were not as wrong as you previously thought about using this term toward him, for Thorin truly and unconditionally ruled your heart, willingly or not.

Not that you minded.

The last day of your work together, you spent wondering whether to put your signature on the painting or not. Once it will be there, there won't be turning back, the painting will be done and so your time in this place, too. King Thorin was standing still, just like on the very first day, now seemingly the whole years ago. But it was barely summer, the warmer days were coming and you were aware that you have already overstayed your welcome in those halls. It did not change the fact that putting down your brush was the hardest thing you had to do.

„I am done,” you announced, the forced smile on your lips as you stood straight next to the easel.

„Already?” Was his reaction.

Nevertheless, Thorin let his arms fall loose by the sides and faced you, the harsh expression on his face now slowly melting, since you were no longer going to look at him that way nor another.

You nodded in response.

Now it was the time to say something. If he wanted to tell you what he felt, it was the best and last chance to do so, but he remained motionless, simply trying to remember the image of you standing there in a humble study room, the sunlight on your face, paint stains on your apron, hands held together in an awaiting manner. You were expecting him to say something, probably to ask to finally see your masterpiece... but he did not care for the damn painting.

He never cared for this bloody painting.

Instead, he muttered a simple order, while veguely gesturing to the armour and fur he was wearing:

„Help me to take this off.”

It was exactly as hard as you imagined, the steel pieces heavy and unpractical to carry as you placed them on the floor one by one, next to the axe and the sword, the weapons of his choice to eternalize. First, the noble furcoat, sliding down his arms with your trembling fingers as you could feel the scent of his hair, the subtle braids ended with beads jingling on the armour beneath the warm cover. The pauldrons, next the arm guards, then the breastplate and the gauntlets. Cold steel caging the burning heart. The King under the Mountain observed your ministrations and sporadically gave instructions if you were lost on how to continue, preparing for what was much more complicated—for baring his soul.

Contrary to what you hoped for, he was still as intimidating, even in the loose tunic, no weapon in hand and a sight which reminded you of a devoted sky above. The wise silver strands in his hair proved his knowledge and labour, something you were now familiar with after hearing the whole story of his Company. There were ages written down in a small wrinkles by his eyes, the history of loss, loyalty, courage and glory, and you found yourself mesmerized by it—by his gentle gaze hiding the pure ocean of secrets.

You were standing there, right in front of him and never in your whole life have you wanted to kiss him more. You did not move, when his hands stroked your arms, carefully moving up until they reached your neck and further, barely ghosting over your jaw.

„I have never been good with words of affection,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. „But I know for sure that I would never forgive myself letting you go without an explanation. This world is harsh and brute, drowning in chaos and devoured by wars, eating alive the latest rays of light, but you have my word that I would willingly go through all of it once again, if it only meant meeting you at the end. I have no control over the past and although I regret that our paths did not cross earlier, now all I can do is to ask for your future, since it is and always will be shining brightly in front of us, darkness left behind. I love you, my dearest, and I care about you more than I can comprehend, with the most sincere kind of love a heart of an old king can muster.”

You were speechless, partly by the declaration itself, partly because of the ardour in his eyes and tone of his voice. His touch on your skin was featherlike, making you wonder how someone who carried such a great strength and authority could treat you with an utter gentleness. You smiled at him, taking his hand in yours and holding it for a while, feeling how warm they were against you—and Thorin patiently waited for your answer.

„I do not know what to say,” you started. „All I am certain of is that I was already starting to think that you will never ask me so, My King.”

Wide, genuinely happy smile which appeared on his features was way more breathtaking and heartwarming than any wild landscape you have ever seen, any adventure you have ever been on and any fleeting dream you were so desperately trying to achieve. When he kissed you, sweetly and passionately, you thought that maybe your aim was never to find a place to call home but to find home in the person who loved you the most.

[goldenworldsabound]

Return To Motostoke II

Golden and Kabu meet up for a battle! Except for his ace, Kabu treats the battle as if he were the gym leader in the Galar challenge to account for Golden’s team being mostly freshly caught. Both of them grapple with their feelings and the fact that Haunter keeps causing trouble. Direct sequel to Return To Motostoke I.

Content warnings: None. Word count: 4413

"Ninetales, go!" Kabu's expression was serious as he released his Poke'mon onto the field.

"Alright, have at it, May!" Golden's Drednaw appeared on the field. From day 1 May had been eager to train, so it had the good fortune to have evolved already. The same could not be said of the shy Sizzlipede that had draped herself over Golden's shoulder, watching with shiny eyes. Meanwhile, Tak and Haunter were sitting at the back of the field together, cheering on Golden and their fellow Poke'mon.

"I'm not surprised you're going for the type advantage." Kabu commented.

"That is the advantage of not being a type locked gym leader." Golden quirked back. "It's also a little coincidental in the case of May."

The two trainers were not idly making banter. Both of them was sizing up their opponents Poke'mon, contemplating how the battle would go. Ninetales was faster, but weaker to physical hits. But if it landed a Will-o-wisp on May, that would have quite an impact on the battle. But there was no doubt that in casting such an attack, Ninetales would take a solid hit. Both trainers were aware of this immediately, and adjusted as such.

"Will-o-wisp!" Kabu commanded suddenly. If he could get the upper hand quickly...

"Protect!" Golden called out. May ducked into it's shell just in time, Will-o-wisp passing harmlessly by. "Rock Tomb!" If May could move fast enough, Ninetales could be slowed and trapped-

Ninetales dashed away, dodging the falling rocks with an impressive grace. Golden cursed under her breath, but even Kabu could see from across the field that she was grinning.

"Quick attack!" Ninetales moved fast, and May had little hope of dodging.

"Water gun!" Despite the attack being Special rather than Physical, and thus far weaker, Golden didn't see a better option. Ninetales darted in and out, taking the occasional hit from water gun. This was a battle of attrition. But Golden had a feeling there was more coming.

"Fire spin!"

"Protect!" In a battle of attrition, a move like that would turn the tide. Golden grit her teeth, knowing what was coming next. She had no doubt Kabu had known she would use Protect there.

"Will-o-wisp!" "Liquidation!"

Golden gave out her command at the same time as Kabu. He looked surprised, but understanding crossed his face. Ninetales was already too close to change course - it had no chance to dodge May's full-bodied water attack. While Ninetales did get it's Will-o-wisp attack off, the cost was most of it's hit points. If the battle of attrition continued now, it was clear that Ninetales would lose. Kabu weighed the situation. If this was a gym challenger, he would go all out to knock out Golden's Poke'mon. But they'd agreed on one-on-one matches.

"We concede." Kabu raised up a hand, stalling Golden's attack. "I wasn't expecting you to know liquidate already! You and May must have been training hard."

Golden grinned. "May was very eager. I'm sure if Ninetales had been fighting at full strength it would have been a much different fight!" Golden commented though, trying not to seem overly pleased with her victory to save Kabu's feelings.

"Hm. In any case. Ready for round 2?" Kabu quirked a brow at her, face still serious. She could sense a hint of humor in his tone, and was relieved by it.

"You bet! Xarkussi!" Golden tossed the Poke'ball with a flourish, revealing a Runerigus.

Kabu looked surprised as he drew his own Poke'ball. "Runerigus is a rare sight."

"It was certainly a pain to get the little fella evolved." Golden commented, face growing focused as Kabu's Arcanine appeared on the field. "Took a fair amount of time!"

"I would imagine so." Kabu replied, biding time as he considered the situation. Runerigus was slow. Arcanine was fast. But if Golden's Runerigus had trained as much as her Drednaw had, and it knew Earthquake...speed wouldn't much matter. Arcanine didn't have much to counter that. Even if Kabu switched over to using his full strength, it would be a rough fight for him.

"Agility." Kabu figured his best bet was to outspeed Runerigus and lay into it with damage.

"Shadow claw!" Golden didn't waste the opportunity. Xarkussi slashed at Arcanine with a shadow that rose up from the floor, landing a solid hit. Arcanine shook the attack off, but shivered. The shadow remained stuck onto it's fur, making it a slightly easier target.

Kabu frowned at that. "Bite!" Arcanine latched onto Xarkussi. Golden was glad that Runerigus tended to have such high defense - the attack hit hard regardless though.

"Sand tomb!" It was hard for Xarkussi to miss at such a close angle. That and the effects of shadow claw made the attack hit harder, damaging Arcanine a fair bit. It growled in response, relinquishing it's hold on Xarkussi to back up to a respectable distance, flinching as the sand rubbed against it painfully.

"Agility, and follow that up with another Bite!"

Arcanine had time to make both moves, but the sand was distracting. Runerigus still took the hit, but it retaliated immediately with Disable. Kabu's signature scowl deepened as he realized his super effective move was out of play. Fine - Flame Wheel was strong enough.

"Agility, and then Flame Wheel!"

Again, Runerigus took the hit like a champ, it's expression still unerringly pleased. As Arcanine retreated, Golden made an important play.

"Haze." A blue ish haze filled the arena for a moment, reducing all stat changes the two Poke'mon had taken. Kabu's eyes widened. His Agility advantage was diminishing. Unfortunately, Intimidate was lifted now too, making Runerigus stronger. Was she going to use Earthquake now?

Arcanine was still faster.

"Flame Wheel!" Arcanine lunged forward, making contact with Runerigus. It's health went dangerously low. But Runerigus grabbed onto Arcanine.

"Stone Edge!" With the assist from Shadow Claw still loosely in effect, Xarkussi landed a critical hit. Arcanine collapsed with a yelp as the stone struck it from below.

"Okay, that was pretty stressful." Golden said, slouching for a moment, and wiping the sweat off her forehead.

"I was convinced you were going to use Earthquake." Kabu replied, healing up Arcanine.

"Xarkussi isn't quite that high level yet. But I was able to buy a Stone Edge TR off of someone."

"I wasn't expecting that Haze either. Very devious of the two of you."

"Oh! Thank you!" Golden looked down shyly, feeling her heart swell as Kabu praised her. It felt nice to win, even if she knew he wasn't at his full strength.

"I'm not sure you would have won if you hadn't disabled Bite, though."

"Yes, that's...very true. In truth, I should have sent Xarkussi out to fight Ninetales if I was really thinking about type advantages."

Kabu nodded. "But you managed without doing that, using your Poke'mon's natural talents and a healthy dose of planning."

"Absolutely. Now it's time for the serious battle. Ace against ace." A bead of sweat dripped down Golden's face. Last time they'd let the two Poke'mon sort it out themselves for a while. Golden had thought long and hard about how to defeat Kabu's Centiskorch, and she was sure Kabu had done the same for her. She still didn't have a fool proof plan for the Gigantamax scenario. But she fully expected him to use all the tools at his disposal. She'd been clear that it was what she'd wanted.

Athens and Centiskorch took to the field. Golden wasted no time.

"Thunder Wave!" She called out. Athens responded instantly, their plan having been discussed ahead of time. Despite the shock that flashed across Kabu's face, Centiskorch dodged out of the way, weaving through the bolts of electricity gracefully.

"Fire Lash!"

"Retreat!"

Athens took to the air, a lick of flames brushing their underbelly as they didn't entirely escape Centiskorch's surprising response. Golden grit her teeth. Had Kabu been holding back in their first fight? Or had his training really been so effective? Or perhaps he'd simply found his motivation again.

"Air Slash!" Athens swooped down and blasted air at Centiskorch, who took the hit, unable to dodge the flurry of wind. In return, Centiskorch launched another Fire Lash, which landed more squarely. Golden knew that Fire Lash reduced the target's defense. She could see the effect on Athens, who was shaking off sweat as they flew out of reach, waiting for Golden's next command. Centiskorch had learned how to predict Athen's movements more consistently, and Golden knew they wouldn't get in any free hits.

Without waiting for Golden's command, Athens dove in, feinting for an Air Slash. At the last second, they changed their form, letting out a cry as they unleashed a Thunder Wave. Centiskorch was unable to fully dodge, but grabbed onto Athens with a Crunch, preventing the Poke'mon from taking to the air again. Athens cried out.

"Dazzling Gleam! Break free!" Golden cried urgently in response.

"Don't let go, Centiskorch! Keep Crunching!" Kabu yelled.

But a Dazzling Gleam to the face was more than Centiskorch could handle, even as the paralysis making it's jaw stiff made it hard to release. Athens made a mad dash for the sky, wavering for a moment before gaining sufficient altitude.

This was much worse than last time.

But Golden (and Athens) watched Centiskorch, noticing the Thunder Wave still arcing over it's body. Now there was a chance they could land hits unhindered.

"Another Air Slash!" Athens dove down, landing a hit before Centiskorch could retaliate. The paralysis was doing it's job. This continued for a few turns - Athens would dive in and assess if it was safe before landing an Air Slash on the poor Centiskorch. Kabu was gritting his teeth. The tide was turning.

"We'll risk it." Kabu murmured. "Get ready to Gigantamax!" Kabu held up his Dynamax band as he withdrew Centiskorch. Within moments the poke'ball had grown large, and Kabu threw it onto the field with fiery eyes. The massive Gigantamaxed form of Centiskorch appeared on the field. Golden felt a burst of heat from it, holding an arm up over her face. Athens was in a tizzy now, darting around trying to figure out how to be out of reach now.

"Remember our plan!" Golden yelled up at it. Centiskorch was still paralyzed. If they could dodge the first attack, maybe they could blind Centiskorch with a Dazzling Gleam right up in it's eyes.

"Max Flare!" Kabu called out.

Athens sped away as fast as it could, but with Centiskorch at that size, it was difficult to dodge it's attacks. Athens took the attack, tumbling to the ground. Golden could see that their health was low. But neither of them would give up.

Athens had tactically fallen closer to Centiskorch. With the attack ended, they made a beeline up to Centiskorch's face.

"Dazzling Gleam!" Golden called out unnecessarily, as Athens was already executing the plan.

Centiskorch screeched, surprised by the bright sparkles in it's eyes. It thrashed about in response, the combination of the temporary blindness and the paralysis making it unable to respond appropriately.

"Hang in there, Centiskorch! Max Flare!"

"Air Slash before it recovers!" Feeling confident despite the odds, Athens took the paralysis as an opening, slashing across Centiskorch's back, avoiding it's blazing hot stomach. As Athens flew into sight again, Centiskorch overcame the paralysis with a massive Max Flare. Athens felt to the ground again, but this time did not get up, barely hanging on to a single hit point.

"We concede!" Golden yelled, dashing onto the field with a Full Restore at the ready. At Kabu's signal, Centiskorch shrank down to it's normal size. It looked to Kabu, who was already jogging out to give it a Full Restore and head pats.

They headed over to Golden and Athens in time to see Athens looking sorrowfully at Golden.

"Aw it's okay Athens, you did your best! That Gigantamax thing is...whew." Golden wiped some sweat from her forehead. "And Centiskorch here is a very worthy opponent."

Kabu chuckled quietly. "Thank you for that. You did a remarkable job, Athens. That paralysis could have left us high and dry if you'd landed a more solid hit with it." Athens chirped appreciatively in response, while Centiskorch chittered it's agreement.

"You've really stepped up your game since last! Or were you going easy on me the first time?" Golden asked slyly, holding out a hand to shake. Kabu blinked at the question, but shook her hand firmly.

"I wasn't going easy on you. I think I'd just lost my fire." He admitted, laughing a little to cover how silly he felt saying that. "But you helped me bring it back."

Golden grinned. "Well I'm glad! If you keep fighting like that, you'll take the gym spot back no problem!!!"

Kabu smiled. "I hope so. I'll give it my best." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "If you really want to be a competitor in Galar, we should get you a Dynamax band. It's very hard to counter your opponents Dynamax if you can't do it yourself. Your attempt was very admirable, though. I didn't expect that Dazzling Gleam."

"Aw, well, thanks." Golden laughed as well. "I suppose it won't do me much good outside of Galar, though." Kabu shook his head. Golden didn't say any more, and Kabu took the hint. She's not sure if she'll be coming back here.

"In any case, despite the odds, you did great." Kabu reiterated with a friendly smile.

Now that the battle was over, Kabu found himself taking in her appearance. She was in grey basketball shorts and a black t-shirt - clearly not her most put together outfit. But he found himself considering that she'd look good in just about anything. Her hair was pulled back, but a few extra strands had fallen as she'd run around during their match. Her cheeks were pink with the exertion.

He became aware of his own flushed state as he took in hers. Even in this state...

She was undeniably attractive to him. He swallowed, looking away.

For her own part, Golden was having very similar thoughts. From the sweat on Kabu's brow that made the unruly strands of hair stick to his forehead, to the way his muscles flexed as he moved about. She was feeling rapidly more and more undone as she looked at him, hazarding a glance over his body as he looked away.

"I guess I don't get your super special ultra rare card thing after all, then." Golden said with a sigh, forcing her eyes back up to his face. That wasn't much better, it turned out. His flushed cheeks were distracting...and there was a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face...

"You won 2 out of 3." Kabu replied, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he met her gaze.

"Oh, yeah, but...at our full power, you still won!" Golden explained, gesticulating mildly.

Kabu shook his head. "That's not how that works. Here," He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and fishing for a rare league card. He held it out to her.

Golden walked up to him, looking at it curiously.

"Oh! It's you!" Golden exclaimed, gently taking the card and holding it up to look at it.

"Yes. It is my league card after all." Kabu replied, a hint of humor clear in his voice.

"Er, yeah, it's just, it's you, but, but you're young." Golden couldn't help but stare at the card for a moment. She could safely say he'd been just as handsome back then as he was now.

Kabu chuckled quietly at her reaction. "Wonderful powers of observation."

Her gaze shot up to meet his, and she was glad her face was already warm, masking her blush at his words. His mouth was quirked upwards at the corners, a subtle smirk to match his teasing tone.

"Well I didn't know what to expect! I've never seen a rare league card before, geez." She grumbled, wandering over to her bag to put the card in her own wallet, where it would be safe from her sweat and grime. "Um, thanks, though." She smiled shyly at him.

"You earned it. Sorry I can't give you a badge."

Golden waved her hand dismissively. "Next time, you'll be in that position. I'm sure of it." She grinned at him, and he felt his heart race again, felt motivation swelling in his heart. "To that point, now that we've got the battle out of the way, we can do some real training. What do you say?"

Kabu nodded. "Let's get to it."

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

The training session had been rough. Golden had known she'd been taking it easy lately, with no challenge currently occupying her, but she hadn't realized how soft she'd gotten. Kabu's training sessions weren't just for the Poke'mon - he got in there and worked out with them as well, and she admired that. She had no doubt it made the Poke'mon work harder too - when their beloved human was pushing themselves too, they could draw extra strength!

She was exhausted, and Kabu was merciless. If she had asked for a break, she'd no doubt he would have given it to her. But she didn't want to lose face. Well, no, it wasn't that exactly. She just...wanted to impress him. Or at least keep up.

"Well, I think that's enough for today." Kabu commented.

"Oh, yeah? Good, yeah...good workout...whew..." Golden was hunched over, catching her breath. She smiled weakly at Kabu's words.

"Hit the showers?" Kabu suggested, coming to stand next to her. She stood up straight with a grunt of effort.

"That sounds nice." She paused, furrowing her brows. "Well, actually, all my clothes are at the hotel so...I should probably just head back there."

"Will you be able to find your way?" Kabu asked.

"Hm? Yeah, I should be fine, it's just like a short walk from here- HEY WAIT A MINUTE." Golden pouted, glaring at Kabu, who was clearly fighting off a smile. "How would I possibly get lost between here and there, huh?! I'm not that hopeless!"

"I was teasing you." Kabu said, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle a quiet laugh. "I'll shower here and then meet you at the hotel afterwards?"

Golden sighed. "Yes, yes that's fine. See you soon." She hesitated for a moment, then stuck out her tongue before spinning on her heel to leave. Even without looking back, she could feel Kabu's eyes on her. And even as she left the building, she could imagine them still, piercing silver that seemed to soften just for her.

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

Kabu walked up to the hotel lobby, greeting the desk clerk before taking a seat on one of the couches. It had hardly been a moment when Haunter floated up from the couch cushion next to Kabu, pushing affectionately against the man's shoulder.

"Oh, Haunter. What are you doing down here?" Kabu rubbed the purple ghost's head gently, earning a purr out of him. Haunter pushed against him again, but this time it was clearly less an affectionate act and more of a, 'hey! Move!' motion. Kabu frowned.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, fixing Haunter with his stare. Haunter shook his head.

"Haunt, haunt, ter." Haunter said, floating to be between Kabu and the elevators that went to the hotel rooms. He pointed with one hand, beginning to float towards the elevators.

"You want me to come up with you?" Kabu asked. Haunter nodded. "Oh. Did Golden ask you to bring me...?" He was a little wary. As much as he wanted to trust the ghost type, there had been an incident or two.

His fears were put to rest as Haunter nodded vigorously, smiling and cooing. Satisfied, though a bit nervous, he followed Haunter into the elevator. He wondered why Golden would want him up in her hotel room to begin with. Was...was she...was there a certain intention there? He felt his face warm at the thought. While he certainly wouldn't object the idea flustered him a great deal. And it didn't seem terribly in character for her, from what he'd seen so far. But you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. There was likely some other explanation, even if he couldn't think of it at the moment.

As they arrived at the door, Haunter phased through and opened it from the inside. As Kabu stepped inside, he realized he could hear the water running in the shower. He looked at Haunter suspiciously.

"Are you sure...?" He asked, brows furrowed. If she had intentionally invited him up here while she was showering, that was...he swallowed. Haunter nodded furiously, motioning for Kabu to come further in. He hesitated.

The chittering and cooing of June and Tak caught his attention. The Sizzlipede skittered over to him, squeaking at him before climbing up his leg and torso to finally rest on his shoulder. Kabu laughed at the feeling. Meanwhile, Tak remained on the bed, clapping his hands with excitement. This convinced Kabu, for the moment. He sat down on the bed next to Tak, putting a hand on his head gently to let the fire-type know he was there. Tak giggled gleefully. Kabu couldn't help but smile.

"Did you two enjoy your training?" Kabu asked. June hadn't seemed terribly interested in battling, Golden had told him, but she'd thoroughly enjoyed the obstacle course they'd set up in the gym. She scurried up and over things happily. Tak, meanwhile, had practiced the moves that Golden considered safe for him, and had even been set up to try some of the stronger fire type moves, with some precautions due to his blindness.

The Poke'mon cheered in response to his question.

Kabu grinned wider. "I'm very glad to hear that." The water stopped. Kabu kept speaking. "June, you did a wonderful job with that obstacle course. You're quite fast." The Sizzlipede chittered at the remark, looking pleased with itself. "And you, Tak! That was a very powerful ember you had!" Tak nuzzled against Kabu's arm with his head, practically beaming.

Meanwhile, as Kabu continued his praise of her two Poke'mon, Golden was towel-drying her hair with a puzzled expression. Was she hearing another voice...? That couldn't possibly be the case. She wasn't expecting anyone, nor did anyone have access to her room. Unless there was a mistake...but surely it was obvious she was here, what with her Poke'mon and the running water...

It didn't make a shred of sense.

Shaking her head, she finished drying off her body before slipping on panties and a bra. She supposed she'd just have to wrap herself in a towel and go verify that no one was in her hotel room. She'd feel a little bit better if she had been able to get fully dressed, but she must be imagining things anyway.

Taking a breath, she forced herself to be confident, reminding herself that someone in the room was very unlikely despite what she thought she was hearing. Maybe June and Tak had gotten the tv on somehow. She opened the door and stepped out, eyes scanning the room. She froze as her eyes met Kabu's. She felt her face warm even as she saw a blush spreading across his face.

"K-Kabu! What- what are you doing here?!" She choked out, tightening the towel surreptitiously.

"I- I thought- Haunter-" Kabu spun around to look for the ghost, but he had disappeared into a shadow. "Haunter led me up here, I thought you- I thought you were behind that." Kabu's face felt incredibly hot as he stared down at his lap.

"O-oh. I see. I'm going to kill him." Golden said plainly, forcing herself to smile despite her blush, scanning the room for prickly shadows.

"I can leave." Kabu replied suddenly. He lifted June off his shoulder gently, placing her on the bed. June cried, immediately crawling back onto his lap. Tak seemed reluctant to let him go as well, gently wrapping his claws around Kabu's arm. "..."

"No, it's, um, I mean..." As much as Golden was feeling mortified, she was also delighted by how shy Kabu seemed about the situation. This felt safer, if not more intimate. A part of her was tempted to drop the towel and see how Kabu reacted, but she knew she didn't have it in her. But if she did...what kinds of things would happen, behind closed doors like this? Her heart pounded at the thought. "Just go face the wall and I'll get dressed and, uh, and it'll be fine."

Kabu swallowed, once again trying to remove June. June cried again. "June, didn't you hear Golden? And you too, Tak." At Kabu's words, Tak relinquished his hold on Kabu, chirping quietly. June scuttled up to Kabu's shoulder defiantly, staring at him.

"Good enough." Golden mumbled, crossing her arms. Her position was putting her on edge.

"Right, yes." Kabu cleared his throat, getting to his feet and crossing the room quickly. He clasped his hands behind his back tightly as he stared at the wall, biting his lip. He squeezed his eyes tight for good measure.

Golden watched for a moment. Even facing away from her, she could see his eartips were still red.

Kabu quietly held a breath as he heard the rustling sound of clothing. It felt like time was passing slowly. He wouldn't dare betray her trust and turn around to gaze at her. But he wanted to, and he had to acknowledge that within himself. His face continued to burn.

"Alright, I'm all done." Golden said, crossing her arms and trying to appear casual, though her pink cheeks betrayed her. She'd tossed on her yellow skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt. "So, um, was there something you had in mind for this afternoon?" She stared at him until he turned around and his eyes met hers.

Kabu was quiet. "Lunch." He replied, nodding to himself. That had been the reason he'd wanted to meet up again. Well, the surface level reason. "But, before that, I'm sorry." He bowed his head. "I shouldn't have entered your space without your explicit permission. And I should know better than to trust your mischief maker."

"I- it's fine. Let's not talk about it anymore." Golden suggested, feeling further heat rise on her face. "Well, other than to make sure Haunter knows he's in the doghouse the next time I see him."

They went to lunch.