#every time i respond to severe hurt in any way that's not like fawning and “trying to bring out the best in people” and blah blah blah

[slimyenemy]

can someone even explain to me why the absolute fuck should i care if someone "likes" me if they respond *like that* (do i like need a reblog here or?) to a rejection and then when i talk about being disturbed and hurt by this suddenly i'm not allowed anywhere near them people who literally tortured me were right to do so and should actually just continue literally what the god damn hell is that?

[misanthropicdoe]

idc if i am dramatic. my blog was there for me every single day for six years. i dont have a real life, i dont have any friends, nobody knows me or even who i am or my name. for the first time ever in my life i felt belonging. idc if i am crazy, but i've had nothing and no one for so long, my blog became my best friend. it was there though several heartbreaks. it was there for me during the first worst period of my life, when everything crashed and i broke. it was there when i went through all my rough phases, it was there to catch me and hold me. it was there to listen to me completely judgement free. it was there when i stopped having contact with my father. it was there when my friends left. it was there through all of my health chrises. when i received no help from the health care system, when i was dismissed and ignored and mistreated. when my sisters stopped talking to me. after every traumatic and scary and uncomfortable moment. no matter what it was there to listen to me. i was never alone because i had my blog. my blog i could pour everything into. idc if it is unhealthy because it was all i had. idc if that is chronically online because i dont wanna live in the real world, it is too dangerous and here im safe. idc if none of it is real bc i dont care for reality. and not only the blog itself, but honestly there was the place people were nice to me. irl i have been bullied and discarded and hurt and abused, but people were nice to me?????? that was the first place i've ever experienced that.

idc if im autistic, no other blog feels the same. it just doesnt feel the same. every day for six years that blog was my anchor. it grounded me. it was the sole reason i wasnt so alone i ended it all. when i was sad, i told it. when i felt the urge to show someone all my stupid fucking pics of snails or the sky or whatever, it was always there for me. always. no matter what. i think ppl would think i sound insane but something inside of me is broken, i cannot have real relationships and connections with people. im so far away from everyone. even my mother. and she gave birth to me. im just not fully human, it hurts and i wish i was but im not. i dont talk to ppl, i dont connect, bc im just filling a role so they wont hurt me. my entire existence is just to fawn so others wont hurt me as bad as they could.

i want my blog back bc it is all i had. and the first time i got my blog termed i knew that oh yes i was blogging abt tcc so like i get it. sucks but i get it. this time it was safe for six years, and then just bc i felt upset that some stranger was saying smth hurtful and judged me on one of my vent posts, i got so mad so i told them off. and then half a day later my account got termed for "promoting sh" and idk if it is all my posts abt it i've made or if it was that one fucking picture on that sideblog where i responded to that person, that pic i reblogged from someone else with faint marks. i've seen more and worse on other ppl's blogs. blogs that are still up. why did mine get termed but not everyone elses??? (i dont want that bc im insane and fucked up but i think ppl should post that if they want) but im just so heartbroken bc it is unfair. why is all i had gone?? i once reported a blog w cp and it stayed up for months. mine got termed in less than a day. everything i had gone just bc of one "sh" post. one report.

i cant stop crying. and i just dont care abt anything else. that blog was the first and only time i've felt "home". idc if i sound insane. i am just not like others and i never will be. i was broken and ruined and i just am this way. i cant connect. i dont have anything else. and now its taken from me. i dont feel whole. i feel like the most precious and treasured and beloved piece was stolen from me. theres probably smth very wrong w me for feeling this way for just an account on social media, but, i think it was the only thing i've ever felt truly safe to let myself feel a connection to. and the fact that no matter what happened to me, no matter what other ppl did to me, i would always have my blog to run to... and that i no longer have that is hurting me so much. i think i most likely had some neurodivergent attachment to it bc i just do not feel the same way abt my other social medias. they could delete my instas and pinterests and twitters and i'd be like oh damn that sucks whatever. and i am here crying and typing but i feel removed from this blog. and all my others. it was that blog i felt attached to. and it is gone. just bc i was so fucking stupid and just had to tell someone off. i never will again, i'll let anyone walk on me i'll let anyone violate all my boundaries and i'll never speak up again just pls pls pls pls let me have my account back.

[seita]

— better than (m.)

pairing : iwaizumi/reader

wordcount : 3.087

genre : fluff, smut, pwp

cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi

tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3

+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.

When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.

You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.

The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.

The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.

“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”

The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.

There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.

You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.

For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.

It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.

You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.

You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.

That's when it occurred to you.

You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.

When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.

You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.

Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.

Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.

Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.

You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.

You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.

His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”

You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?

He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”

You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.

You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.

“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”

“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”

“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”

You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”

“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.

“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.

“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”

Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.

As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.

“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”

Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”

“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”

He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.

You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.

“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”

You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.

You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”

“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”

As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.

“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”

He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.

“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”

Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.

“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”

“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”

Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”

You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.

But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.

“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.

“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”

He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”

His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.

“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”

Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.

He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.

“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”

You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”

You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.

The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.

Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.

“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.

“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”

“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.

“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.

Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.

He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”

You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.

He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.

He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.

“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.

“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.

He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”

Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”

seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost

[mercurial-madhouse]

Trigger Warning: Healing is painful, but there’s so much light on the other side if we’re strong enough to walk through the dark.

My hope in sharing my story is to help anyone who reads it find peace or healing, just as I always aim with my fiction. If it feels right to you to do so, I encourage you to reblog this. It is highly personal, but I choose to share it publicly.

************

This past Sunday, I received an email responding to my desire to withdraw from a fic fest. Instead of the simple “You have been removed from the fest” that I’d been expecting through an official channel from mods to a participant, this is the response I received. Please be aware, the following is painful.

***

We've removed you from the fest and will mark you down as not being welcome to participate in future fests. We show a great deal of compassion toward our writers, which is why we send reminders, answer any and all questions, and provide extensions when requested. There's a reason why our fest has one of the highest numbers of fics of any fest/challenge in the fandom - it's because we support our participating writers and do everything possible to assist them as they complete their fics.

However, once a writer has repeatedly failed to communicate and missed both a deadline and an extended deadline, it's clear that they do not have any respect for the fest, the mods, our time, or our own unique situations, as we don't have endless extra hours to track down participants in a fic fest. Several reminders on three different platforms, an extension, and requests for writers to simply let us know if they need more time does not demonstrate a lack of compassion in any capacity. We also showed a great deal of compassion by welcoming you with open arms into the [redacted] after you insulted the fest, insulted [redacted] fics, and made writers uncomfortable last year after signing up to beta their fics, all while pretending to support and uplift writers in the fandom just as you did in your email here.

Have a great week!

- [redacted] Mods

***

This email arrived right at the end of the night, just as I was lying down to sleep. I couldn’t read it all the way through. It elicited a trauma response in me. My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, I was shaking, I felt sick to my stomach.

I went into fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode. My first response was to freeze. In order to escape the barrage of pain bombarding me, I simply dissociated and disconnected from my body. It allowed me to sleep, but barely. I deleted the email in a desperate attempt to pretend it didn’t exist.

The pain caught up with me twenty-four hours later. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shrunk in around my heart. My whole body locked up. I couldn’t move. I knew that if I spoke, even to say ‘hello’ to someone, I’d start crying.

The moment I was alone in my room the tears came. The pain came, bursting through me. I sobbed uncontrollably, curled into myself on my bed, begging for the pain to stop, begging for a miracle, screaming internally for relief and to understand what I’d done to deserve this because I didn’t have the air for more than broken whispers.

I fell asleep whispering ‘I need a miracle’ over and over. The mantra blocked out all the disgusting thoughts that wanted to keep swirling through my head. This is it. This is the final proof that you don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. Run away, M. It’s over. You tried, you failed. You always do. You always will.

I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Grief is intense. These are the moments where we don’t think we’ll survive what we’re feeling. My love, whoever you are, if you are reading this, hear from me. The agony passed. I needed to feel that agony, to allow it to move through me and to give myself the space to feel it. Without diving off the deep end into what hurts, I wouldn’t have been able to find the inner peace to keep healing, to start to understand.

The residual pain is still there, even as I write this post. But it no longer overwhelms my senses. And by Tuesday morning, I’d been given insight into what was happening.

I experienced a trauma response because it mirrored mistreatment I first received in childhood from family and classmates alike and continued into my adult life. In full view of others, it was acknowledged as cruel even by my mother, who struggles with her own guilt because she never stood up for me. No one did.

So I internalized the mistreatment. I must deserve it if everyone else around me is ok with me being singled out like this? At first I spoke up for myself. But in the end I stopped speaking up for myself too. I had never healed this pain and here it was, coming back around again, forcing me to face it, to heal it once and for all.

I still do not know what exactly I may have said to cause these accusations that you see in the email. **I do not and will not deny them.** Even if my words were taken in a way I did not consciously intend, to deny that I said anything that caused someone else pain is to deny my own power AND to deny that everyone’s emotions are valid and worth digging into.

I have the power to inflict pain, just as I have the power to spread and share love and joy.

Whatever I said came from a place of pain, of believing I did not belong in this community. That I am not good enough or worthy enough to be here. A series of unfortunate but necessary events when I first entered this fandom completely disintegrated my core beliefs in my abilities as a writer, something I have always kept so close to my heart, and my belief that I had a place in this fandom.

I expect, as I look into my past patterns, that what I did was try to logic why I wasn’t allowed to belong. At the time, this fest was the only subset of the fandom I knew, I was so brand new. So I looked through all the prompts in the fest. I brought a scientific method view to answering the question: “What is it about the fics people write in this fandom am I unable/incapable of doing?”

This process allowed me to generalize everything I saw that I perceived as ‘I can’t do that, this is why I don’t belong here’. Consumed in my own doubt that I could measure up and write something worth reading, I dropped from the fest last year too. If I can’t contribute writing that’s worth reading, I could at least stick with what I do best, which is helping others be their best selves. I had signed up to beta, and I chose to cling to the only grasp of belonging I had, which was through beta’ing. I ended up beta’ing four fics last year for the fest. And, of course, each of them were (and still are) incredible fics. At the time, it was further proof to me of exactly what I can’t accomplish.

In all likelihood, these generalizations, stemming from a place of pain and jealousy because I wanted to write good fics too, came out in a personal conversation with someone, which they translated as a personal attack. It is valid. Whoever you are, your emotions are valid. It does not matter how I meant whatever I said, pain is what you felt. This person did not feel comfortable sharing that pain with me, so instead they turned to others and shared. My moment of vulnerability and pain then spread more pain.

Pain only comes from pain.

The response was to shadow ban me. In fact, I was never meant to find out about any of this. The pain this person shared was simply taken at face value and that was that.

So on my end, this decision showed up in the physical world this way: Suddenly all my asks went unanswered, people I tagged to share snippets and last lines and get to know more through ‘about me’ posts or who had once talked to me through DMs simply stopped speaking to me in a way that is only noticeable to the person being ignored. I thought I was going crazy. But there it was, right in front of me: absolute proof that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of this fandom.

Is anyone else beginning to see the cycle of pain?

I expect I continued this cycle right back, because the pain turned to bitterness. I’d been doing everything I could to support every author the best way I knew how, and this was what I got? The exact opposite?

I found out about this shadow ban and actual blocking around June of this year. An ask sent in by a friend for me, inquiring why I couldn’t reblog a post that’d been sent to me by someone else, finally gave me the answer that I’d been banned for the accusations you saw above.

Horrified, hurt, and unable to comprehend any of this except to know that I support every author no matter what they write, I sent an apology to the mods, trying to end this cycle the best I could without knowing any of the details of what had happened. There was nothing more I could do.

They thanked me for the apology, though as you can see from the email, it was never accepted. I do not say that as a judgement call, but simply as a statement of what happened. Everyone is entitled to accept or not accept in their own time and their own ways.

I have been healing so much since everything that occurred last year. And the more I dig in to this cycle, the more my heart goes out to the drafters of this email, to the person I hurt with my words who then turned to share it out of context with others, and to the people who shadow banned me in connection with this situation.

We attract to us what resonates with us. Like attracts like. Which means just as I’ve attracted the greatest friends to me, I have also attracted this pain, and conversely, these mods and that person attracted me to them.

Deep down, on some level we share the same core wounds. And the person who can really understand just how painful those wounds can be is someone who feels them too.

So this is my message to the mods of the above email, to those who have shadow banned me and want nothing to do with me, and to the original person I hurt with my words:

I am sorry for my part in this pain. I am sorry for causing pain and I apologize for it. You are loved. You are enough. You are doing a fantastic job. Your feelings are valid. Your hurt is valid. I don’t know what occurred that hurt you before I entered the fandom, but after finding out from others that an email like the one you sent above is ‘Oh that’s just how they are’ tells me something else happened to hurt you before I even arrived.

Your hurt then is valid too. Allow yourself to feel it and process it. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let that hurt and fear of it happening again or believing that that’s how everyone is push away from you people who in fact love just what you love. If someone has a different belief from yours, don’t let it invalidate what is true for you. Believing internalized lies about myself only caused me pain. And we spread and create what we believe to be true, whether we consciously realize it or not.

So here, now, is my truth:

I choose to perpetuate love. I choose to spread love. I choose to understand my pain and the pain of others, to transmute it, and to heal it, instead of passing that pain on.

I choose compassion. Compassion for myself in making these mistakes, and compassion for those who have hurt me. I do not condone the email that was sent to me. No one deserves to be treated that way. I choose to focus beneath the visceral anger and lashing out, to focus on the agony beneath the words, and stop this cycle of pain.

I choose to belong in this fandom. I choose to support every author in this fandom and ensure no one ever feels not good enough. I choose to own my past mistakes and learn from them.

I choose trust. To trust that those who I truly hope will see this, will see it. I have no expectations of responses or outcomes or reactions. My only hope is that whoever will benefit from seeing this post will see it.

This is not a matter of right or wrong, bad or good, just or unjust. It is a situation of two parties in pain, triggered by the same triggers.

Looking back on that email, I’ve come to realize that half of the pain I felt when I received it was not my own. I felt the pain of the attack, sure, but I also felt the immense pain beneath those words. And I wish I could hug you. I acknowledge your pain and I acknowledge how painful it is because I know that pain myself. I also know that this pain isn’t you and it isn’t who you are.

So I choose to remember the mods I first met around this same time last year in this same email chain. Mods who were so kind and offered advice to a brand new writer even when she sent an email that had nothing to do with the fest and was still struggling to find her place in the fandom. I choose to remember how beautiful that kindness felt. I choose to remember how I was so grateful for that kindness that I shared my gratitude for these same mods in an email with with another fandom friend at the time. I am still grateful for you.

You are so loved. You are loved for being exactly who you are. This fandom is built upon love. A shared love of five incredibly talented lads who have brought so much joy and light when each and every one of us has needed it the most. Shine your light through the dark and believe with all your heart that you are not alone. You have support. I support you. Shine on. Don’t let anyone dim it.

[quillsanddaydreams]

flirting game

draco malfoy x reader

—author's note: Oh man do I love making my characters work for it. So what does Draco flirting with you include? I hope you enjoy!

—warning(s): none, gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren't used).

—word count: 500

→ Okay, let’s be real. Draco cannot flirt. The platinum-haired boy uses cheesy pick-up lines and people somehow fall for him anyway. So when you don’t respond the way most do, he’s surprised at the very least. You just raise an eyebrow as he opens and closes his mouth several times. It’s clear that you’ve thrown him off his game. His smirk however, returns just a moment later accompanied by yet another flirty remark. Smiling a little to yourself, you act nonchalant not giving in.

→ Draco on the other hand gets determined to make you like him. He just cannot get why exactly you don’t react the way others do. Taking up on every chance he could get, he tries to charm you during breakfast, in middle of classes, in the common room. He’s everywhere. While your friends find it somewhat annoying, you seem to be amused. You never thought Draco would be so interested you instead of dozens of people fawning over him, but apparently he was. And merlin was he resolute. So you did the only thing that seemed appropriate. Act indifferent.

→ Not minding why you decided that in the first place, Draco was now attached to your hip. Only now, he actually liked you. Between all the talking and bickering Draco found that you had a great personality. You could read on his emotions, make him laugh and were refreshing from what he was used to. He noticed your smile, the real one, which seemed to light up the room making his lips upturn by themselves. He found himself sneaking glances at you more often than not. It was you he wanted to talk to, to be with.

“Did it hurt?” he asked one day making you chuckle. You didn’t even bother hiding it.

“When I fell from heaven?” you replied, smirking. “Not at all. You see, I had wings of an angel.”

Draco rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Damn. You’re already finishing my sentences. You sure you don’t want to take me on a date first?”

You threw a ball of paper at him.

→ The more time you spent with Draco, the more you liked him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. It certainly didn’t help that his flirting became more genuine every day. You found yourself falling for the boy who used the crappiest pick-up lines. When he asked you to Hogsmeade again one day you were nodding before he even finished. Draco smiled so widely that his cheeks hurt. He couldn’t believe it. You really just agreed to go out with him.

→ To say he was nervous before the date, would be an understatement. He kept fidgeting with his collar wondering whether what he had planned was enough. It was awkward at first, with him being unsure what to say.

“Soooo,” you began, trying to ease up the air around. “Any new pick-up lines to experiment with me today?”

Draco laughed then, his eyes shining. The rest of the day was in simple words… perfect.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[shigarakislittlepet]

Hiiiii can I please request shigaraki being insecure and the reader finds out and showers him with love, btw please make it super fluffy

I will take any and EVERY opportunity to show this man my undying love and adoration so yes

tw: FLUFF!!! tooth rot, seriously get checked for cavities after this one guys its disgusting <3 some sads too bc i can, very negative self-talk, a very brief mention of death, hurt/comfort

You had always looked up to him. 

In your eyes, there was no reason not to. He was motivated, passionate, and cunning. He had big plans and he knew how to get things done. He was a strong and confident leader that was going to change the world. There was a fire in his eyes that you knew came from deep within his soul and it made you weak in the knees when you saw it. It was beautiful. HE was beautiful. To you, he was perfect.

And so, one night while you were both alone at the bar and Shigaraki had had probably one too many drinks, when he started asking you about love... you weren’t really sure what to say.

“Y/N... Haveyou ever been inlove beforee?” He gazed over at you with a goofy drunken smile, words softly slurring together. It was kind of cute. He was never like this, he was always so calm and composed, and he was hardly ever chatty. Kurogiri had warned you that your boss had had a particularly bad day before he went to bed for the night, and you weren’t really sure what to make of the odd mood your leader seemed to be in.

“Uh, no... I don’t think so? Why do you ask?” you smiled and cocked your head to the side, nervous and hoping he would explain.

He grumbled as his smile fell, “I don believeyou.” Frowning, he turned back toward the bar and took another swig from the bottle he'd been nursing, grimacing at the strong taste of the whiskey.

You laughed a bit at the way he seemed to be pouting, “What do you mean?”

He continued to grumble, more at the bottle in his hands than you it seemed, “Withyour looks, ’m sure iss nothard to find love... Guys prolly throw thmslves atyouu ev'ry chance thy get.” You were silent, unsure how to respond or why he was being so... strange. He was usually so composed and sure of himself. Why did he seem so... Off?

“Imean,” he continued, “People muss fawn over you allthe time! I can’t imagine what it must be like for people to wanna lookat you like that...” He looked so... sad? No, you knew this feeling. He was... insecure?

You couldn’t believe it. Or, you supposed, you just wouldn’t have guessed. He carried himself with such pride and intent that he seemed untouchable, almost inhumanly so. But now, as you watched his sullen face glare at his reflection in the bottle, the look in his eyes made you want to reach out and hold him.

“All right, boss. You’re done.” You took the drink from him and helped him to his feet, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge before helping him to his room. Kurogiri must have just cleaned up, because his room was surprisingly spotless.

Shigaraki allowed your help, something you were sure he never would have tolerated while completely sober. You sat him on his bed and gave him the water bottle, instructing him to drink it. You waited, sitting in his gaming chair while he sipped at the water. You took the chance to look around a bit, he had a pretty cool gaming setup. All of it was most certainly stolen, which only made you smile. While you were looking through his games, you heard soft sniffling coming from his direction.

When you looked over at him, you were stunned to see tears flowing gently down his face. He made almost no sound, just occasionally sniffing and hiccuping, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

You moved without thinking. Suddenly you were kneeling in front of him on the floor and cradling his face in your soft hands. He reluctantly met your eyes, and that seemed to break him. His cries were still quiet, as if he didn't want to disturb the silence that had wrapped around the two of you. You recognized it. It was the kind of cry you learn as a child when making noise or being noticed in any way would absolutely result in more pain. It broke your heart to watch his whole body shake and jerk from the strength of his silent sobs, and he couldn't seem to look at you anymore.

“Tomura, please look at me,” using his first name felt more appropriate than anything else given the circumstances. You wiped your thumbs through the stream of tears, trying to lift his face. “Tell me what I can do to help? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“P-please...” was all he could seem to get out in between his chest heaving. He lifted his arms before hesitating briefly, before fully reaching for you.

You instantly understood what he needed. Something about this should have probably felt uncomfortable to you, but you couldn't seem to feel anything other than an all-encompassing need to comfort him. You helped him to his feet for the second time that night, and he swayed weakly. You pulled the covers back on his bed and you helped him lie down, carefully following him. You tucked the covers back over the two of you and when he reached for you again you let him pull you to his chest. He buried his head in your neck, and you wrapped one arm around his waist and the other cradled the back of his head. You just... held each other while he shook.

It seemed like the more time that passed, the tighter he held you. As if he were afraid that you would disappear if he let you slip through his fingers. You stroked his hair gently and rubbed slow circles into his back. By the time his tears stopped falling, the pillow and your shoulder were both damp with them. “Talk to me?” you whispered, worried that if you spoke too loudly, you might frighten him.

He took a deep breath and his chest seemed to revolt against it. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “You can-,” he heaved, “You can leave. I don’t want to...” He took another deep breath, “Keep you.” He didn’t lift his head, but he did reluctantly release his vice grip on you.

You shook your head, snuggling closer to him and tightening your hold on him. He pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, his face full of confusion. You stroked his cheek softly with your thumb, “You’re not a burden, and I want to be here with you.” You smiled at him softly, and his face contorted into a pained sob as he shook again. He wrapped his arms back around you and laughed, but it was a small, broken sound. “You better be careful, if you keep talking like that I might never let you go.” If he meant it as a threat, it sounded more like a promise. “I’m counting on it,” is all you said.

It was a while before he spoke again, and when he did it still sounded pained, “Why... would you want to be here? With me?” he didn’t look at you, but you could hear the furrow in his brows. “I don’t understand the question,” still quiet, still running your fingers through his hair. The broken laugh came again, “Oh come ON, you’d never look at me with anything other than pity, right? I’m so sad, and pitiful, and hideous. No one could EVER look at me with anything other than fear, or pity. Or disgust.” By the end, his voice was full of malice and bitterness, but it wasn’t directed at you. He just held you closer, clutching you like a life-line. “And the worst part is that I don’t even blame you! I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror. I look like a zombie, like a dried-up corpse that clawed it’s way from the grave because it was too stubborn and stupid to just DIE when it had the chance.” You listened in stunned silence as he dug into himself, his body shaking with hatred and anger now. You ran your hand up and down his back in an attempt to calm him.

“I don’t see you that way,” you kept your voice soft and even. In this moment, he reminded you very much of a wounded animal. And you knew better than to startle him or back him into a corner.

He snorted, “Oh really? And how is it that you see me?”

“You are... Everything.” You said simply.

He hesitated, pulling away once again to look at you. “I don’t... I don’t understand.”

You smiled, “To me, you are everything. I see you in everything. You are the moon and the stars, you are the sound of ocean waves, you’re the smell of the air after it rains, you're the glow of city lights in the middle of the night, and you’re the wind during a storm. You're strong and brilliant and beautiful and I have never seen you as anything other than absolutely, awe-inspiringly perfect.”

You watched the look on his face shift several times in the next few moments. From shock to confusion, to disbelief, to something that might have looked like hope if there wasn’t so much pain there too. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes. “Don’t fuck with me. Please. I physically won't be able to handle it.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, looking for any sign that you were lying or making fun of him. You just smiled at him and stroked his face gently. “You’re not... You’re not fucking with me?” You shook your head.

“Oh,” was all he seemed to be able to say for a minute as he watched you just... look at him and touch his face. All he could see in your eyes was adoration where the disgust should have been. You were touching his face like it was precious. You were conflicting with everything he knew to be true about himself. And it felt... oddly comforting. He couldn’t begin to understand what you saw in him that made you look at him like that, but he could see that what you felt was genuine. The look in your eyes made him feel just a little bit... loved?

There was a sudden urgency in his chest that he felt he had to act on, but it also made him incredibly nervous. “C-can I... uh,” He looked away, but put a hand on your cheek. “’ Can you... uh’ what?” and you were blushing when he looked back at you.

“Can I... kiss you? Please...” when you smiled, he thought he might melt.

When your lips finally met, his were quivering slightly, like he was afraid he might enjoy it too much and then you'd rip it away from him. You kissed him gently, trying to put all the love you had into it so he could feel it. He balled his hands into fists in the back of your shirt and kissed you back with more intent, and you matched his intensity.

When you both pulled away for air, you took a deep breath, “I love you. I always have.”

His eyes went wide and he thought his heart might beat completely out of his chest. He actually smiled, and it made your heart swell. “I love you too.”

You smiled, reached behind you to turn off the lamp, and snuggled into his chest. You held each other until you fell asleep, and for the first time in his life, Tomura Shigaraki fell asleep with a smile on his face.

[penbalfour]

Chapter One (x)

“Lower your swords,” Queen Eloana commanded, her hair shining a glossy onyx in the sun as she sank onto one knee. The raw emotion pouring out of her seeped into the temple floors of the Chamber of Nyktos, bitter and hot, tasting of anguish and a helpless sort of anger. It stretched out toward me, needling my skin and brushing against this…primal thing inside me. “And bow before the…before the last descendent of the most ancient ones. She who carries the blood of the King of Gods within her. Bow before your new Queen.”

The blood of the King of Gods? Your new Queen? None of that made sense. Not her words or when she had removed her crown.

A too-thin breath scorched my throat as I looked at the man standing beside the Queen of Atlantia. The crown was still upon the King’s golden-haired head, but the bones had remained a bleached white. Nothing like the gleaming, gilded one the Queen had placed at the feet of the statue of Nyktos. My gaze skipped over the terrible, broken things scattered about the once pristine, white floors. I’d done that to them, adding their blood to what had fallen from the sky, filling the thin fissures in the marble. I didn’t look at that or anyone else—every part of my being focused on him.

He remained on one knee, staring up at me from between the vee of the swords he’d crossed over his chest. His damp hair, blue-black in the Atlantian sunlight, curled against the sandy-hued skin of his forehead. Red streaked those high, angular cheekbones, the proud curve of his jaw, and ran down lips that had once shattered my heart. Lips that had pieced those broken shards back together with the truth. Bright, golden eyes locked with mine, and even bowed before me, so motionless I wasn’t sure he breathed, he still reminded me of one of the wild and strikingly beautiful cave cats I’d once seen caged in Queen Ileana’s palace as a child.

He had been many things to me. A stranger in a dimly lit room who’d been my first kiss. A guard who had sworn to lay down his life for mine. A friend who had looked beyond the veil of the Maiden to truly see me underneath, who’d handed me a sword to protect myself instead of forcing me into a gilded cage. A legend cloaked in darkness and nightmares that had plotted to betray me. A Prince of a kingdom believed to have been lost to time and war, who had suffered unimaginable horrors and yet managed to find the pieces of who he used to be. A brother who would do anything, commit any deed to save his family. His people. A man who bared his soul and stripped open his heart to me—and only me.

My first.

My guard.

My friend.

My betrayer.

My partner.

My husband.

My heartmate.

My everything.

Casteel Da’Neer bowed before me and stared up at me as if I were the only person in the entire kingdom. I didn’t need to concentrate like before to know what he was feeling. Everything he felt was wide-open to me. His emotions were a kaleidoscope of ever-shifting tastes—cool and tart, heavy and spicy, and sweet like chocolate-dipped berries. Those unyieldingly firm and unrelentingly tender lips parted, revealing just the hint of sharp fangs.

“My Queen,” he breathed, and those two smoky words soothed my skin. The lilt of his voice quelled the ancient thing inside me that wanted to take the anger and the fear radiating from all the others and twist it, turn it back, truly give them something to fear, and add to the shattered things thrown about the floor. One side of his lips curled up, and a deep dimple appeared in his right cheek.

Dizzy with relief at the sight of that infuriatingly stupid—and adorable—dimple, my entire body shuddered. I feared that when he saw what I’d done, he’d be afraid. And I couldn’t blame him for that. What I’d done should terrify anyone, but not Casteel. The heat that turned his eyes the color of warmed honey told me that fear was very much the furthest thing from his mind. Which was also a little disturbing. But he was the Dark One, whether he liked being called that or not.

Some of the shock faded, and the pounding adrenaline eased. And when it left, I realized I hurt. My shoulder and the side of my head throbbed. The left side of my face felt puffy, and that had nothing to do with the old scars there. A dull ache pulsed in my legs and arms, and my body felt funny, as if my knees were weakening. I swayed in the warm, salty breeze—

Casteel rose quickly, and I shouldn’t have been surprised by how fast he moved, but I still was. In a heartbeat, he’d gone from kneeling to standing, a foot closer to me, and several things happened at once.

The men and women behind Casteel’s parents, the ones wearing the same white tunics and loose pants of those lying on the floor, also moved. Light reflected off the golden armbands adorning their biceps as they lifted their swords, shifting closer to Casteel’s parents, protecting them. Some reached for crossbows strapped to their backs. They had to be guards of some sort.

A sudden growl of warning came from the largest wolven I’d ever seen. Kieran and Vonetta’s father stood to my right. Jasper had officiated the marriage between Casteel and me in Spessa’s End. He’d been there when Nyktos showed his approval by briefly turning day to night. But now, the steel-hued wolven’s lips peeled back, baring teeth that could tear through flesh and break bone. He was loyal to Casteel, and yet instinct told me that it wasn’t just the guards he warned.

Another snarl came from my left. In the shadows of the blood tree that had sprouted from where my blood had fallen and grown to a massive height within seconds, a fawn-colored wolven crept into my line of sight, head dipped low, and wintery blue eyes iridescent. Kieran. He stared down Casteel. I didn’t understand why either of them would behave this way toward the Prince, but especially Kieran. He had been bonded to Casteel from birth, meant to obey and protect him at all costs. But he was more than a bonded wolven to Casteel. They were brothers, if not by blood then by friendship, and I knew they loved each other.

Right now, nothing about the way Kieran’s ears were pinned back was loving.

Unease skipped its way through me as Kieran sank down, the sleek muscles of his legs tensing as he prepared to attack…Casteel.

My stomach plummeted. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. “No,” I rasped, my voice hoarse and barely recognizable, even to my ears.

Kieran didn’t appear to hear me or care. If he had been acting normally, I would’ve just assumed he was attempting to ignore me, but this was different. He was different. His eyes were brighter than I ever remembered seeing, and they weren’t right because they…they weren’t just blue now. His pupils glowed silvery-white, an aura that seeped out in wispy tendrils across the blue. My head jerked to Jasper. His eyes had changed, too. I’d seen that strange light before. It had been what my skin had done when I healed Beckett’s broken legs—the same silvery glow that had radiated from me minutes earlier.

Icy bursts of surprise raced through Casteel as he eyed the wolven, and then I felt…relief radiate from him.

“You all knew.” Casteel’s voice filled with awe, something no one standing behind him felt. Even the easy grin was absent from the auburn-haired Atlantian. Emil looked at us with wide eyes, broadcasting a healthy dose of fear, as did Naill, who had always appeared utterly unfazed by everything—even when he’d been outnumbered in battle.

Casteel slowly sheathed his swords at his sides. Hands empty, he kept them down. “You all knew something was happening to her. That’s why….” He trailed off, his jaw hardening.

Several of the guards moved to the front of the King and Queen, surrounding them fully—

A shock of white fur shot forward. Delano tucked his tail back as he pawed at the marble. He lifted his head and howled. The eerie yet beautiful sound raised the tiny hairs all over my body.

Off in the distance, the faint sounds of yips and barks answered, growing louder with each second. The leaves on the tall, cone-shaped trees separating the temple from Saion’s Cove trembled as a rolling rumble echoed from the ground below. Blue-and-yellow-winged birds took flight from the trees, scattering to the sky.

“Godsdamn.” Emil turned to the temple steps. He reached for the swords at his sides. “They’re summoning the whole damn city.”

“It’s her.” The deep scar slicing across the older wolven’s forehead stood out starkly. Potent disbelief rolled off Alastir as he stood just outside the circle of guards who’d formed around Casteel’s parents.

“It is not her,” Casteel shot back.

“But it is,” King Valyn confirmed as he stared at me from a face that Casteel’s would one day become. “They’re responding to her. That’s why the ones on the road with us shifted without warning. She called them to her.”

“I…I didn’t call anyone,” I told Casteel, voice cracking.

“I know.” Casteel’s tone softened as his eyes locked with mine.

“But she did,” his mother insisted. “You might not realize it, but you did summon them.”

My eyes darted to her, and I felt my chest wrench. She was everything I’d imagined Casteel’s mother to be. Stunning. Regal. Powerful. Calm now, even as she remained on one knee, even when she had first seen me and demanded of her son—What have you’ve done? What have you brought back? I flinched, fearing those words would stay with me long after today.

Casteel’s features sharpened as golden eyes swept over my face. “If the idiots behind me actually laid down their swords instead of lifting them against my wife, we wouldn’t have an entire colony of wolven about to descend on us,” he bit out. “They are only reacting to the threat.”

“You’re right,” his father agreed as he gently guided his wife to her feet. Blood soaked the knee and the hem of her lilac gown. “But ask yourself why your bonded wolven is guarding someone other than you.”

“I really could care less at the moment,” Casteel responded as the sound of hundreds—if not more—of paws pounding the earth grew even closer. He couldn’t be serious. He had to care, because that was a damn good question.

“You need to care,” his mother cautioned, a thin quiver in her otherwise steady voice. “The bonds have broken.”

The bonds? Hands trembling, my wide eyes shot to the temple steps, to where Emil slowly backed away. Naill had his swords in his hands now.

“She’s right,” Alastir uttered, the skin around his mouth appearing even whiter. “I can… I can feel it—the Primal notam. Her mark. Good gods.” His voice trembled as he stumbled back, nearly stepping on the crown. “They’ve all broken.”

I had no idea what a notam was, but through the confusion and the blossoming panic, there was something odd about what Alastir had stated. If it was true, then why wasn’t he in his wolven form? Was it because he’d already broken his wolven bond with the former King of Atlantia all those years ago?

“Look at their eyes,” the Queen ordered softly, pointing out what I’d seen. “I know you don’t understand. There are things you never needed to learn, Hawke.” Her voice cracked then, thickened at the use of his nickname—a name I’d once believed to be nothing more than a lie. “But what you need to know now is that they no longer serve the Elemental bloodline. You are not safe. Please,” she begged. “Please. Listen to me, Hawke.”

“How?” I croaked. “How could the bond break?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The amber of Casteel’s eyes was nearly luminous. “You’re bleeding,” he said as if that were the most important issue at hand.

But it wasn’t. “How?” I repeated.

“It’s what you are.” Eloana’s left hand balled into the skirt of her gown. “You have the blood of a god in you—”

“I’m mortal,” I told her.

A thick lock of dark hair tumbled from her knot as she shook her head. “Yes, you are mortal, but you are descended from a deity—the children of the gods. All it takes is a drop of god’s blood—” She swallowed thickly. “You may have more than just a drop, but what is in your blood, what is in you, supersedes any oath the wolven have taken.”

I remembered then what Kieran had told me in New Haven about the wolven. The gods had given the once-wild kiyou wolves mortal form to serve as guides and protectors to the children of the gods—the deities. Something else Kieran had shared then explained the Queen’s reaction.

My gaze shot to the crown lying near Nyktos’ feet. A drop of deity blood usurped any claim to the Atlantian throne.

Oh, gods, there was a good chance I really might pass out. And how embarrassing would that be?

Eloana’s gaze shifted to her son’s rigid back. “You go near her? Right now? They will see you as a threat to her. They will rip you apart.”

My heart lurched to a panicked stop. Casteel looked as if he might do just that. Behind me, one of the smaller wolven lurched forward, barking and snapping at the air.

Every muscle in my body tensed. “Casteel—”

“It’s okay.” Casteel’s eyes never left mine. “No one is going to harm Poppy. I will not allow that.” His chest rose with a deep, heavy breath. “And you know that, right?”

I nodded as each breath came too fast, too shallowly. It was the only thing I understood at the moment.

“Everything’s all right. They’re just protecting you.” Casteel smiled for me then, but it was tense and tight. He looked to my left, at Kieran. “I don’t know everything that is going on right now, but you—all of you—want to keep her safe. And I’m all about that. You know I would never hurt her. I would tear out my own heart before I did that. She’s injured. I need to make sure she’s okay, and nothing is going to stop me from doing that.” He didn’t blink as he held Kieran’s stare, as the rolling thunder of the other wolven reached the temple steps. “Not even you. Any of you. I will destroy every single one of you who stands between her and me.”

Kieran’s growl deepened, and an emotion I’d never felt from him before poured into me. It was like anger, but older. And it felt like that buzz in my blood had. Ancient. Primal.

And in an instant, I could see it all playing out in my mind as if it were happening before me. Kieran would attack. Or maybe it would be Jasper. I’d seen what kind of damage a wolven could inflict, but Casteel wouldn’t go down easily. He would do just as he’d promised. He’d tear through all that stood between him and me. Wolven would die, and if he harmed Kieran—if he did worse than that, the wolven’s blood wouldn’t just be on Casteel’s hands. It would mark his soul till the day he died.

A wave of wolven crested the temple’s stairs, both small and large, in so many different colors. Their arrival brought terrifying knowledge. Casteel was incredibly strong and unbelievably fast. He would take down many. But he would fall with them.

He would die.

Casteel would die because of me—because I called to these wolven and didn’t know how to make it stop. My heart thumped erratically. A wolven near the steps stalked Emil as he continued backing up. Another tracked Naill as he spoke softly to the wolven, attempting to reason with the creature. The others had zeroed in on the guards surrounding the King and Queen, and a few…. Oh, gods, several of them crept up behind Casteel. This had slipped into chaos, the wolven beyond control of any of them…

I sucked in a sharp breath as my mind raced, breaking free of the pain and turbulence. Something had happened within me to make that drop of god’s blood break the bonds. I superseded their previous oaths, and that had…it had to mean that they now obeyed me.

“Stop,” I ordered as Kieran snapped at Casteel, whose own lips were now peeled back. “Kieran! Stop! You will not hurt Casteel.” My voice rose as a soft hum returned to my blood. “All of you will stop. Now! None of you will attack.”

It was like a switch had been thrown in the wolven’s minds. One second they were all poised to attack, and then they were sinking onto their bellies, lowering their heads between their front paws. I could still feel their anger, the old power, but it had lessened already, was fading in steady waves.

Emil lowered his sword. “That…that was timely. Thank you for that.”

A ragged breath left me as a tremor traveled up and down my arms. I almost couldn’t believe it’d worked as I scanned the temple, seeing all the wolven lying down. My entire being wanted to rebel against further confirmation of what the Queen had claimed, but gods, there was only so much I could deny. Throat dry, I looked at Casteel.

He stared at me, his eyes wide once more. I couldn’t breathe enough. My heart wouldn’t slow enough for me to make sense of what he was feeling.

“He will not hurt me. You all know that,” I said, my voice shaking as I looked at Jasper and then Kieran. “You told me that he was the only person in both kingdoms that I was safe with.  That hasn’t changed.”

Kieran’s ears twitched, and then he rose, backing up. He turned, nudging my hand with his nose.

“Thank you,” I whispered, briefly closing my eyes.

“Just so you know,” Casteel murmured, thick lashes lowered halfway, “what you just did? Said? It has me feeling all kinds of wildly inappropriate things at the moment.”

A weak, shaky laugh left me. “There’s something so wrong with you.”

“I know.” The left side of his lips curved, and his dimple appeared. “But you love that about me.”

I did. Gods, I really did.

Jasper shook out his fur as his large head swung from me to Casteel. He turned sideways, making a rough, huffing sound as he did. The other wolven moved then, coming out from behind the blood tree. I watched them trot past me—past Casteel and the others—ears perked and tails wagging as they joined the wolven descending the steps and left the temple. Only Jasper, his son, and Delano remained, and the feeling of chaotic tension lifted.

A thick lock of dark hair fell over Casteel’s forehead. “You were glowing silver again. When you ordered the wolven to stop,” he told me. “Not a lot, not like before, but you looked like spun moonlight.”

Had I been? I glanced down at my hands. They looked normal. “I…I don’t know what’s happening,” I whispered, my legs shaking. “I don’t know what’s going on.” I lifted my eyes to his and watched him take a step forward, and then another. There were no snarls of warning. Nothing. My throat started to burn. I could feel it—tears creeping into my eyes. I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t. Everything had already turned into enough of a mess without me sobbing hysterically. But I was so tired. I hurt, and it went beyond the physical.

When I first stepped into this temple and looked out over the clear waters of the Seas of Saion, I’d felt like I was home. And I knew things would be hard. Proving our union was real wouldn’t be nearly as difficult as gaining the acceptance of Casteel’s parents and that of his kingdom. We still needed to find his brother, Prince Malik. And mine. We had to deal with the Ascended Queen and King. Nothing about our future would be easy, but I had hope.

Now, I felt foolish. So naïve. The older wolven in Spessa’s End, the one I’d helped heal after the battle, had warned me about the people of Atlantia. They did not choose you. And I now doubted they ever would.

I drew in a stuttering breath and whispered, “I didn’t want any of this.”

Tension bracketed Casteel’s mouth. “I know.” His voice was rough, but his touch was gentle as he placed his palm over the cheek that didn’t feel swollen. He lowered his forehead to mine, and the shock of awareness his flesh against mine brought was there, rippling through me as he slid his hand into the tangled mess of my hair. “I know, Princess,” he whispered, and I squeezed my eyes shut against a stronger rush of tears. “It’s okay. It will all be okay. I promise you that.”

I nodded, even though I knew it wasn’t something he could guarantee. Not anymore. I forced myself to swallow the knot of emotion that rose.

Casteel kissed my blood-streaked brow and then lifted his head. “Emil? Can you retrieve clothing from Delano’s and Kieran’s horses so they can shift and not scar anyone?”

“I’ll be more than happy to do that,” the Atlantian answered.

I almost laughed. “I think their nakedness will be the least scarring thing to happen today.”

Casteel said nothing as he touched my cheek again, gently tilting my head to the side. His gaze then dropped to several of the rocks still littering the ground at my feet. A muscle popped along his jaw. His eyes lifted to mine, and I saw his pupils were dilated, only a thin strip of amber visible. “They tried to stone you?”

I heard a soft gasp I thought had come from his mother, but I didn’t look. I didn’t want to see their faces. I didn’t want to know what they felt right now. “They accused me of working with the Ascended, and they called me a Soul Eater. I told them I wasn’t. I tried to talk to them.” Words spilled out in a rush as I lifted my hands to touch him, but I stopped. I didn’t know what my touch would do. Hell, I didn’t even know what I would do without touching someone. “I tried to reason with them, but they started throwing stones. I told them to stop. I said it was enough, and…I don’t know what I did—” I started to look over his shoulder, but Casteel seemed to know what it was I  searched for. He stopped me.  “I didn’t mean to kill them.”

“You were defending yourself.” His pupils constricted as he caught my stare. “You did what you had to do. You were defending yourself—”

“But I didn’t touch them, Casteel,” I whispered. “It was like in Spessa’s End, during the battle. Remember the soldiers who surrounded us? When they fell, I felt something in me. I felt that again here. It was like something inside me knew what to do. I took their anger and I—I did exactly what a Soul Eater would do. I took it from them and then gave it back.”

“You are not a Soul Eater,” Queen Eloana said from somewhere not too far away. “The moment the eather in your blood became visible, those who attacked you should’ve known exactly what you were. What you are.”

“Eather?”

“It’s what some would call magic,” Casteel answered, shifting his stance as if he were blocking his mother from me. “You’ve seen it before.”

“The mist?”

He nodded. “It’s the essence of the gods, what’s in their blood, what gives them their abilities and the power to create all that they have. No one really calls it that anymore, not since the gods went to sleep, and the deities died off.” His eyes searched mine. “I should have known. Gods, I should’ve seen it…”

“You can say that now,” his mother spoke. “But why would you have even thought that this would be a possibility? No one would’ve expected this.”

“Except for you,” Casteel said. And he was right. She’d known, without a doubt. And, granted, I had been glowing upon her arrival, but she’d known with unquestioned certainty.

“I can explain,” she said as Emil appeared, carrying two saddlebags. He gave all of us a wide berth as he dropped them near Jasper and then backed away.

“Apparently, a lot needs to be explained,” Casteel remarked coolly. “But it will have to wait.” His gaze touched on my left cheek, and that muscle throbbed along his jaw again. “I need to get you somewhere safe where I can…. Where I can take care of you.”

“You can take her to your old rooms at my place,” Jasper announced, startling me. I hadn’t even heard him shift. I started to look over at him but saw skin as he reached for the saddlebag.

“That will do.” Casteel took what appeared to be a pair of breeches from Jasper. “Thank you.”

“Will it be safe for you there?” I asked, and a wry grin tugged at Casteel’s lips.

“He’ll be safe there,” Kieran answered.

So shocked by the sound of Kieran’s voice, I turned. And didn’t stop. There was a whole lot of tawny skin on display, but he stood there like he wasn’t naked in front of all who remained. For once, I really had no problem ignoring the fact that he was nude. I looked at his eyes. They were normal—a vivid, striking blue without the silvery-white aura. “You were going to attack Casteel.”

Kieran nodded as he took the pants from Casteel.

“He most definitely was,” Casteel confirmed.

I looked back at my husband. “And you threatened to destroy him.”

The dimple in his left cheek appeared again. “I did.”

“Why are you smiling? That isn’t something that should make you smile.” I stared at him, stupid tears burning my eyes. I didn’t care that we had an audience. “That can never happen again. Do you hear me?” I twisted to Kieran, who arched a brow as he pulled his breeches up over his lean hips. “Do you both hear me? I won’t allow it. I won’t—”

“Shh.” Casteel’s light touch to my cheek drew my gaze back to his as he stepped into me. He was close enough that his chest brushed mine with each breath. “It won’t happen again, Poppy.” His thumb quickly swiped under my left eye. “Right?”

“Right.” Kieran cleared his throat. “I don’t…” He fell quiet.

His father didn’t. “As long as the Prince doesn’t give any of us a reason to behave differently, we will protect him as fiercely as we will protect you.”

We. As in the entirety of the wolven race. That’s what Alastir had meant when he’d said that all the bonds had broken. I had a lot of questions, but I plopped my head on Casteel’s chest. It didn’t feel that great, sending a flare of pain across my head. I didn’t care because when I inhaled, all I smelled was lush spice and pine.  Casteel carefully folded an arm around my upper back, and I thought… I thought I felt him shudder against me.

“Wait,” Kieran said. “Where is Beckett? He was with you when you walked off.”

Casteel drew back slightly. “That’s right. He offered to show you the temple.” His eyes narrowed as he stared down at me. “He led you here.”

A wave of goosebumps pimpled my skin. Beckett. Pressure clamped down on my chest, squeezing tightly as I thought of the young wolven who’d spent the vast majority of the trip here chasing butterflies. I still couldn’t believe that he had led me here, knowing what awaited. But I remembered the bitter taste of his fear that day in Spessa’s End. He’d been terrified of me.

Or had he been terrified of something else?

His emotions had been all over the place. He’d gone from being normal around me, happy and grinning, to suddenly afraid and anxious, as he had been when he brought me up here.

“He disappeared before the others showed up,” I told Casteel. “I don’t know where he went.”

“Find Beckett,” he ordered, and Delano, still in his wolven form, tilted his head.  “Naill? Emil? Go with him. Make sure Beckett is brought to me alive.”

Both Atlantians nodded and bowed. Nothing about Casteel’s tone suggested that the alive part was a good thing. “He’s just a kid.” I watched Delano rush off, quickly disappearing with Naill and Emil. “He was scared. And now that I think about it—”

“Poppy.” Casteel placed the tips of his fingers against my cheek, just below a spot that ached. He dipped his head, brushing his lips over the cut. “I have two things to say. If Beckett had anything to do with this, I don’t care what or who he is, and I sure as fuck don’t care about what he was feeling.” His voice rose until all who remained at the temple could hear him, including his parents.

“A move against my wife is a proclamation of war against me. Their fate is already sealed. And, secondly?” He lowered his head even farther. This time, his lips brushed over mine in a featherlight kiss. I could barely feel it, but it somehow  still managed to twist my insides into knots. He then lifted his head, and I saw it in his features—the stark stillness of a predator locking onto its prey. I’d seen it before, right before he’d torn out Landell’s heart back in New Haven.

Casteel turned his head to the side, looking at the only wolven who remained, now standing on two legs. “You.”

[beetleboo]

long post. one i’ve been trying to make for a while now. hell, i wrote this like... third week of may. didn’t post it until now because i didn’t know if I wanted to.

but something i want to lay out, been wanting to lay out for months. dont want to talk to anyone about it, just want to put the info out there for it to be seen.

if you re/blog this i will block you. i may put this on the relevant sideblog at some point.

because 2020 was the worst year on record for me for a number of reasons, and it’s torn me down to the lowest point i’ve been in a long time, and this is just. everything that’s gone down. not a callout post, no one gets named, but these are all the events

partially in relation to my fandom sideblog, because that’s where i had community, and where it’s all just. gone. doesnt exist anymore.

i started up a server, ages ago now. somewhere i curated to be a positive and safe space for things, and for a while, it was that.

around the end of 2019, spilling over to the start of 2020 when it picked up, i found, both on my blog and in discord spaces, in particular the server i ran, that people no longer talked to me. no one would hold a conversation with me past a few basic responses, no one replied to anything i shared, no one engaged when i tried to start discussions. so i pulled back from the main server - S1. thought it was just a lull in activity. stayed that way for weeks, months, and I just muted the server. no one ever cared about anything i had to say. was lucky if anything i posted got even a token emoji react

was in another, smaller server - S2. people i talked to damn near every day, even in voice. played games together - that became... no fun simply because everyone else was so much better/further ahead in the game. i was completely useless, so didn’t server a function in game and never really felt like anyone actively wanted me around, but i still participated in chat.

but again, no one ever responded to anything I posted beyond maybe a token react

couple people discussing something one day. I contributed with Theory A, and quite immediately got that shut down. few minutes later, they rephrased exactly what I said and happily nattered away. so whatever I said wasn’t worth it when it came out of my mouth but if they talked about it, it was all well and valid. so again, between that specific experience and no one interacting with me, nor anything I post. server muted. treatment taught me no one cared about my presence there.

gave admin rights to S1, my server, to someone I trusted. two requests only: dont delete channels and let me know if you want to invite anyone (since I kept it private)

RYE (i’m just assigning random three letter names to people to keep this straight) posted public invites several times. never asked me. one of the two things i asked. brought it up with them that it bothered me, just got vague noncomittal responses. more public invites. eventually, after having the server muted for months, i handed over full control and left. that was almost a full year ago. none of the people have talked to me in that entire year, through discord or here or anything.

except RYE who sent me a message after a couple months like ‘wow i havent heard from you in a while hope you’re doing ok’. i wasn’t. after a bit but still the same day, i said as much. that i wasn’t doing well. they never responded. and i don’t mean like, they didn’t respond that day. i mean i literally never heard from them until months later when they sent me a meme and also didn’t respond to me commenting on that meme.

and this is one side of things. all of the above was the first half of the year. this next bit happened about. march2020? I was in another server - S3. another place that was a good space at the time. was in voice chat with two other people. started talking about one thing. MIN very suddenly said something along the lines of ‘i don’t care about this i’ll come back when you’re done’

this is one of the very few things that can trigger me - i’ve had a lot of people talk down to me if I dare look excited about anything. when they came back, i asked if they could try to just. depart conversations more softly. MIN always said ‘if i do anything hurtful to you just tell me! i dont want to do that kind of thing!’

this was clearly a lie as they exploded on me, telling me they always have to walk on eggshells around me, that I ask so many things from them. before what I asked them that day, I can only recall one other thing i asked (which was not to talk about a person who was abusive towards me, and they were like ‘yea sure np’ about that, over a year prior’)

the whole thing turned into basically me having to shut down the fact that i was hurt by what they did, had to ignore that now and i had to fawn and placate them and the only thing i got out of that was that my feelings were irrelevant, only theirs.

(incidentally, I have had two other people turn on me in similar ways, accusing me of doing shifty/bad/terrible things, and not being willing to tell me what they are when I ask, only saying that ‘i should know what i did’ so that’s also now a Fun New Bit Of Trauma.)

and that entire weeklong event lead me straight to a breakdown. literal genuine breakdown i cannot convey how devastating that entire scenario was without going into far too many details.

so between all of these things happening in less than six months, with three different community spaces folding and collapsing and fading away from me, with many of the friends i thought i had just. moving on to other things and dropping me. people i talked to every day just not bothering with me anymore. they all have gone on to other stuff and no one ever went ‘hey beets wanna see what i’m up to’ or ‘wanna do this thing with me’

a handful of instances of me saying ‘yeah i’m dealing with these fears that have been reinforced lately that people aren’t safe to deal with, even thought part of me knows they’re probably irrational it feels like i have evidence to back it up’ and people immediately take it personally like i’m saying they’re not safe. despite. me outright saying. i know logically it should be irrational. but their reactions just reinforce it so it’s just a loop and tells me, again, never to bring up any of my problems with anyone.

so this all just reinforces that there’s something wrong with me. couple years back i spoke to a friend and how i was frustrated that I seemed to end up in bad spaces and they said ‘well you’re the one thing in common so its probably your fault’ and obviously they’re not my friend anymore but that has affected me so deeply. i can’t do anything without overthinking, whenever anything goes wrong i tear apart everything i’ve done and everything i’ve said or thought and i don’t know why things keep going bad. i try so hard but i’m just. not right.

so it all teaches me that there’s no point in reaching out in trying to talk to people because if i say ‘hey this hurt me’ i get ignored at best or torn down, yelled at, scolded. no point in trying to talk to new people because everyone just walks away at some point. not even a natural drift apart, i can handle that. but just very suddenly, they’re gone, off with better people doing better things.

roundabout, ties back to ‘consumption versus community’ - this is why i’ve been struggling so hard with lack of engagement on my sideblog. lucky to get a dozen notes on anything i make, unless it’s something other people can use (like mods) and even THEN it’s rare to see much activity. and that was FINE because i had people to talk to elsewhere, who would ask questions and we could back and forth and i shared my stuff and they shared those and it didnt matter if my posts only got a dozen notes because i had friends to talk to.

now i get (example) seven notes, six of which are likes and one is a reblog with no commentary. when i have something with a ton of notes, still, minimal commentary, no one talks to me. even on a mod with five hundred notes it just feels like i went ‘hey i made something :)’ and everyone picked it up and walked away with it, no one went ‘hey this is cool i want to talk to the person who made it.’

and it just feels like 95% of the time, i’m just overlooked. 

and it’s worse than it’s ever been in my entire life, and I wonder, what’s the point of any of this anymore.

why bother to make the posts to share when it all just gets passed by. what’s the point in trying to reach out to new people and make friends when i get lashed out at or left behind? the social is gone out of my social media. i had community, and now it’s gone.

so this has all been going on for months and months and months and hey! suffering. and i dont expect it to get any better, don’t expect this post to fix these issues, but i’ve been trying to say something about all of this for fucking months and i think just, laying it all out is all I can do about it. i’m sure i’ve forgotten some things to touch on but as it is, all these events, all of it happening all together. new traumas, old traumas reawoken, reinforced, i’ve been torn to pieces i don’t know how to function, i can’t remember the last time i felt like even half a real person. taught that the safe, positive spaces that meant so much to me don’t actually exist and they’ll all turn on me and be torn away. nowhere is safe anymore, and trying to make it safe is just going to ruin me again.

people aren’t safe, places aren’t safe, been proven to me time and time again so i just. stay away.

no matter how much i try to fight that, it just doesnt work.

anyway tl;dr beets needs therapy probably

[stormyblue90]

Blessed by the Gods pt. 2

Alexios meets his niece and nephew! Continuation of this oneshot!

Also tagging @alexi-ohs for some soft, post-Deimos Alexios.

Familiar red and white buildings came into view as the sun began to set behind the Taygetos mountain range. Alexios had finally returned to the lands of Sparta after being gone for three months. It was still strange to him, returning and having a growing sense of familiarity. The only reason it started to feel like he could possibly make a home here was his sister and mother. Had it not been for them, he'd still be the Cult's weapon, the monster Deimos.

It had only been two years since that day on Taygetos, Alexios was still gradually finding himself within the shell of Deimos. He still struggled with the occasionally violent outburst when provoked, or nightmares. They had thankfully, lessened as of late, his last nightmare had been just before he left on the Adrestia. He had come to take after his older sister becoming a mercenary. It was the only lifestyle it seemed he could be suited for now. Before, he had travelled together with Kassandra, however this was the first time he had been on his own due to her being a delicate condition. He was thankful for never having an episode while away. He had no intention of hurting his sister's friends onboard the ship.

"So how does it feel to return home?" Barnabas asked, his boisterous voice catching Alexios' attention.

"I'm...not sure." Alexios answered. "It's not something I'm used to."

"Perhaps with time you will." replied the soft voice of Herodotos, also accompanying Alexios' return to Sparta.

Alexios nodded silently, hoping that the old man would be right.

Both of Kassandra's friends had been willing to give her brother a chance, whether at her suggestion or not Alexios wasn't sure, nor did he care. He was thankful someone else outside his immediate family was willing. Slowly he had begun to befriend them as well. It wasn't hard to see why Kassandra enjoyed their company. Barnabas was bombastic, friendly, and his spirits never dampened. A welcome change from the fear, disgust, and coldness he had grown up with in the Cult. Herodotos was quieter, but patient. Alexios knew the man was insatiably curious, but he never asked uncomfortable questions. He would let Alexios open up on his own terms, at his own pace.

"How long has it been? Three months since you left these lands?" Herodotos asked.

"I think so." Alexios answered.

"Ha! By now you should be an uncle!" Barnabas cried.

He was right, when Alexios first left, Kassandra looked as if she was about to burst from her pregnancy. No doubt his niece or nephew had been born while he was away.

"You're right Barnabas. Hm, I wonder if I have a nephew or niece?"

"No matter, I'm sure they will the strongest warrior in all of Hellas!"

Alexios put on a mock face of offense before saying. "Only after ME of course!", causing the older men to chuckle.

Finally the three of them made it to the shared house of Kassandra and Brasidas, his sister carrying a large basket of fruit and vegetables inside.

"Good to see you're not fat anymore!" Alexios called out in a joking manner.

"I was not FAT! I was pregnant- Barnabas! Herodotos!" Kassandra turned and smiled seeing her old friends. "I didn't expect you two to come with Alexios."

"And miss out meeting the new member of the family? HA! Of course not!" Barnabas cried.

"I do hope motherhood has been kind to you Kassandra." Herodotos said.

"Well, it has been...surprising, and my biggest challenge yet. Please, come inside. I do hope you will be staying for dinner."

"Of course Kassandra, of course."

All three men followed her inside, finding Brasidas with the newborn twins, telling them various stories.

"By the Gods! You've had twins!" Barnabas exclaimed.

"How remarkable, congratulations to you both." Herodotos said, seeing the two swaddled bundles with Brasidas.

"Yes, twins. A boy and a girl." Kassandra replied.

"Like Apollo and Artemis!" Barnabas said. "You have truly been blessed!"

"Barnabas, Herodotos! It is good to see you here." Brasidas welcomed.

Kassandra sat the basket on the table in the kitchen before walking towards her husband, taking one of the twins, her daughter Zenais.

"Was Pater telling you exciting stories again little ones?" she asked, cradling her daughter who softly cooed in reply.

"Oh yes, I was telling them the story of how we met and fought in the Monger's burning warehouse." Brasidas said.

"Oooh how exciting!" Kassandra replied as her daughter giggled more.

Both parents brought their children to the older men, offering to let them hold their children.

"This is Zenais, in the red blanket." Kassandra said as she offered Barnabas the wrapped bundle.

"Awww look how small and cute she is!" He said, gently tickling the baby's nose, causing her to giggle and grasp at his finger.

Brasidas allowed Herodotos to hold the second child wrapped in white, "And this one is our little Leonidas. Though we sometimes call him Leon for short."

"Named for his great grandfather I see. Quite the legacy young one."

"Well, he was born with birthmarks resembling the constellation of Leo. It seemed to be fate." Brasidas replied. "And Zenais with an eagle shaped mark."

"Ah fate is a funny thing indeed. Who knows what these little ones will destined for." Barnabas responded.

"They'll be destined for whatever they choose, and a life full of love." Kassandra said.

Alexios stood by, quiet, letting the old man coo and fawn over the babies as if they were their own grandchildren. With how close they were to Kassandra, they might as well be. He felt rather awkward however, while he had been expecting to be an uncle for quite some time, it was still shocking to see. To know it was real, and not some distant dream he'd wake from. Alexios didn't know how to behave around, or approach a baby, leading to his sense of awkwardness. Something so innocent and fragile. He didn't even feel worthy to be in the same room as a newborn, let alone his own niece and nephew.

While the old men were happy to hold the newborns, Alexios made no effort to suggest he might want to. In truth, he was afraid to hold either of them. Afraid he'd hurt them, break them. Even though he had recovered immensely, he still felt unworthy to hold something so pure.

"Alexios?" Kassandra said, walking towards him. "Is something wrong?"

"I-I uh...never seen a baby before." he replied, quite sheepishly, shifting on his feet awkwardly.

Kassandra rolled her eyes, "Of all the things in the world that make you hesitate, it's a baby!" she chided. "It's ok, you won't hurt them by being in the same room. No need to be so anxious. This should be a good experience for you."

"I'm not so sure... But I hope you're right." he replied, cautiously walking over to them. He still dare not hold them.

Within a moment, his face changed from anxious hesitation, to curiosity.

"They're so small. And... pink." he said, looking down at his niece.

"Of course they are! They're BABIES Alexios." Kassandra replied. "Honestly they were much smaller and pinker three months ago when they were born."

Alexios glanced at her, a bit miffed at her tone. He just told her he'd had never seen a baby before, how was he supposed to know? He only knew they'd be small, but not quite how small, let alone pink and squishy looking.

A few hours had passed, dinner and wine was served and eaten, and numerous stories passed between everyone. The people and places Herodotos has seen, how Kassandra and Brasidas were adjusting to parenthood, the jobs Alexios had taken, and several of Barnabas' tall tales. A number of which he told with great enthusiasm to the twins who were both enraptured with his tales of monsters and gods; almost as if they already understood everything he said.

"They do love to be told stories." Brasidas had mentioned earlier. "Certainly helps calm them down when they get upset."

Meanwhile Alexios was still reluctant to make any sort of physical contact with either child. Although there was some sort of tugging in his heart to hold them. He wasn't sure why, but the longer he observed them, the more his curiosity grew, the more he wanted to hold them. However his fear and anxiety kept him from doing so, let alone asking.

As if she could read his mind, Kassandra spoke up.

"You know you CAN hold them, you don't have to just stare."

"No! No I uh...I can't- They're so...small and soft...fragile, I-I'd probably break them or-" he said, mild panic in voice.

Kassandra put her hand on his shoulder. "It's ok Alexios. You won't hurt them." she encouraged. "I know you won't. I trust you."

Those three little words, 'I trust you', meant so much to him in that moment. She trusted him, she trusted him with a NEWBORN. Kassandra never trusted easily, very few truly had her trust and confidence. If she said she trusted him, then she meant it and had every reason to.

He nodded, "Alright, if you say so."

"Alright then. Hmm, I think I've got an idea to help you feel less nervous. Wait here." Kassandra left the room and when she returned, in her arms were as many cushions, blankets, and pillows she could carry.

She placed them in a large pile on the floor, much the way she did so long ago as a child. Once she was satisfied she motioned for Alexios to come over.

"Sit here." she told him, and he did.

Kassandra walked over to the shared cradle the twins lie in, and picked up her son. She brought him over to Alexios.

"When I first held you as a baby, I was just as nervous as you. I thought I'd break you. So I did this." she gestured with a nod to the pile of pillows and blankets

"Oh.." Alexios hesitantly held out his arms, still nervous about holding his nephew.

"Don't worry Leon, your Uncle Alexios isn't as bad as Uncle Stentor." She said to her son and she gently placed him in Alexios' arms. Adjusting him where needed.

Alexios let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The small, fragile, pink child looked up at him with large eyes. The same color as his father's Alexios noted.

"Chaire...little one." he said awkwardly, his nephew cooing softly in response.

"See? He likes you." Kassandra told him. She looked towards her brother and saw something in his eyes she'd never seen.

Alexios looked softer, his eyes held a touch of wonder, relief, it was as if holding his nephew brought something out in him he'd not been able to bring out beforehand. She has been right, this would be good for him.

As Alexios settled into holding a baby, he surprised his sister by gently stroking his nephew's face with the back of his forefinger. "So...soft" he remarked.

Leon reflexively held onto his uncle's finger when it was in reach, causing a soft smile to emerge on Alexios' face. "You will be a strong one." he whispered.

Kassandra smiled, happy to see her brother growing more confident in his ability to be soft, gentle, to be human again.

"You know," she began, "this was YOUR blanket once."

"What?"

"The baby blanket he's wrapped in. It was yours. Obviously we weren't expecting twins, so I had to improvise. I'd been given your old baby blanket by a priest in Argos."

Alexios felt the fabric between his thumb and index finger. Perhaps he was imagining it, but it somehow felt familiar. Like he was recalling a dream he had a long time ago.

"I see. It does almost feel...familiar."

Leon yawned, clearly growing sleepy in his uncle's arms. "Looks like he's growing tired."

"Well him and his sister have had a big evening. Meeting new members of the family, must be exhausting for a baby. Alright my little warrior, time for bed."

Gently Alexios handed Leonidas to Kassandra as she brought him to his crib, Brasidas following with Zenais.

"I believe it best we took our leave Alexios." Herodotos mentioned. "It was wonderful to see you again Kassandra, and meet your children."

"It was great to see you too." Kassandra replied. "I'd say I'd join you again on the Adrestia soon but..."

"Ah do not worry my friend!" Barnabas said, "You have a family to look after! The Adrestia will always be welcome to you. Perhaps next time your little ones can join us!"

Kassandra laughed, "Maybe in a few years Barnabas."

"You two can head back to the ship." Alexios said. "I think I'll stick around for a while. Still haven't seen Mater after all."

Both men nodded, taking their leave as they hugged Kassandra goodbye. He wasn't sure how, or why, but somehow seeing his niece and nephew made Alexios feel like he could call this place home one day. He actually felt like there was something here he could protect. Alexios WOULD protect them he silently promised. He would make sure what happened to him would NOT happen to the twins. Alexios knew their parents felt the same, and he'd help make sure the pair were protected and loved as well.

[sapphirestarxx]

Through the Night

Chapter 9

Posted on AO3 here

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In this chapter we take a break from our regularly scheduled plot to get these idiots to finally admit their feelings and bring them together.

~☆~

Kagome awoke with her chest feeling sore and her head aching. Oh, her head. It felt like someone had taken a pickaxe to it, splitting it wide open. The headache seemed to induce a bout of nausea and she struggled to sit up, trying to wait for it all to subside. Ugh. She felt awful. ‘Two days in a row. I really have to stop waking up like this.’ She thought grimly.

After several minutes it seemed to pass and she let out a shaky breath. Once she could think clearly again her first thoughts were of the fight last night and Inuyasha. She was nervous about seeing him again. She had kissed him. There was no going back and undoing it and even if she could she wouldn’t. Still, she hoped her impulsive actions hadn’t made things too awkward between them; her feelings were out there in the open now. Maybe she was overthinking it, though. Her kiss had somehow helped to bring him back to his right mind after he had lost himself to his demonic state, so maybe Sango had been right after all. Maybe it was possible he felt something for her too...

Looking down she noticed she was in her pajamas and wondered who had changed her because it certainly hadn’t been herself. For a moment she considered Inuyasha and her face reddened. Banishing the thought from her mind, she slowly got herself dressed for the day. It was a little bit of a struggle as she kept losing her balance but she finally managed.

As she walked into the kitchen her mother greeted her with a warm smile.

“Good morning, dear. How did you sleep? Inuyasha told me you guys were in quite a fight last night and got rather banged up.”

“Good, thanks. I know I got hurt but I don’t remember much of it after…” Kagome trailed off, not quite ready to tell her mother about how she had kissed the half demon.

“Inuyasha filled me in, as well as what your care is to be for the next couple weeks and what to expect.” Kagome’s mother told her as she filled a glass of water and handed it to her. “Here, drink. You’re supposed to be kept hydrated.”

Kagome obediently took the water, drinking it as she listened to her mother tell her what the instructions for her care were. When her mother was done she spoke.

“Inuyasha told you all this? Why can't he just tell me himself when I see him?”

At those words the smile on her mother’s face dimmed and Kagome’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Anxiety flooded her veins.

“About that, dear. He informed me that something happened between you two and he thinks it’s best to maintain some distance for a while. He’ll still watch over you, you just won’t notice him there unless you are in danger.”

Kagome felt the ground drop out from beneath her at that. Something that had happened between them...it had to be the kiss. It had to be. She had kissed him and he couldn’t even stand to be around her anymore. Oh God. Tears began to well up in her eyes before she could stop it and without another word she spun on her heel to run back upstairs to her room.

“Kagome?!” Her mother called after her in concern but the tears were already starting to fall. She couldn’t hold it back, her heart felt like it was being constricted and it was difficult to breathe. Shutting her bedroom door behind her Kagome threw herself onto her bed and cried her eyes out. It seemed like Sango was wrong; he didn’t want her or feel the same. His rejection had been obvious.

~☆~

Sango got dressed after a short struggle and began to hobble her way back out to the living room. After arriving back home last night she had fought the pull of sleep only long enough to eat a sandwich, drink some juice, and take a much needed shower to cleanse herself of all the caked on blood she was soaked in. That had also been a struggle considering Jinenji’s instructions of not putting weight on her left leg for a day or two but she had managed. She had certainly not been going to ask a certain monk to help her with that, although she knew he would have not only been willing but thrilled. Yeah, no.

As she entered the main living area of Miroku’s apartment she smelled...bacon, eggs, and waffles? She stared as she took in the sight of Miroku setting the western-style breakfast onto plates and turning to greet her with a smile. He had....cooked breakfast? In all the time they had been--Sango didn’t want to say “living together” but there was really no other phrase for it-- he had never done this. They always made their own and it was simple fare.

“You cooked breakfast?” She asked in surprise and her stomach gave an appreciative growl. Ohhh, that looked and smelled so good and she was absolutely starving.

“Good morning. Yes. Jinenji said you needed to eat to regain your strength and you hardly ate anything last night. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to make sure you are properly fed.” Miroku answered. “I hope you like bacon.”

“Wow, thank you. And uhm, I do, although I prefer sausage.”

“Sausage? Oh, really? You like your sausage, do you?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yes I--” Sango began, not understanding, then stopped. She gave him a look. “Really, Miroku? Are you twelve??”

He just laughed and she rolled her eyes. Idiot. He was a perverted idiot.

They ate and when they were done Sango tried to help clear the table, still shuffling along awkwardly. She felt like an invalid. Finally, Miroku took the dish in her hands and ordered her to go sit on the couch and she reluctantly obeyed. This was so annoying. Finishing up, Miroku came and joined her on the couch and she suddenly felt nervous. He had left a few inches of space between them but he was still sitting awfully close. She looked at him and his beautifully unique indigo eyes were arresting; she couldn’t look away.

“Sango.” He began, and his tone was serious. “Last night, the risks you took...you could have died. The way you sacrificed yourself with no hesitation...I wish you hadn’t.”

“As a demon slayer that’s a risk I take every time I engage in a fight, Miroku. Last night was no different. Also, I seem to remember you doing something similar when we fought that spider demon.” Sango replied, starting to feel defensive. “Besides, I didn’t have any other option. If you can’t handle that, then that’s not my problem and maybe you should focus your attentions on someone else because I will always do what is necessary.”

Miroku took a breath, trying to find the right words to phrase this as carefully as he could. He could feel her walls start to come up again and he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to approach this just right.

“I’m not saying I can’t handle it, or that you shouldn’t do whatever it takes. I respect you and your strength. But when the cost is your life, that concerns me. Sango, you are not expendable.” Miroku reached out and took one of her hands in his own. “Especially not to me. There is no one who could ever hope to replace you. All I ask is that you place a little more value on your life when in battle. Please.”

The tension drained out of Sango at his heartfelt words and she blushed a little at not only his sincerity but the intense way his eyes bore into her own.

“I-I’m sorry for worrying you.” She finally said, her eyes dropping to look at her hand in his. As she watched he raised her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss over her knuckles and her eyes flew back to his own while butterflies stirred in her stomach. “Miroku?”

“You know, it’s tomorrow now.” He pointed out. “You said you had a lot of things you wanted to tell me and talk to me about.”

Oh, right. The butterflies turned into a storm of nerves and she took a deep breath to try to ease the sudden knot of anxiety.

“Right. I did. I mean, I do. I mean--” Sango began, already flustered, when her phone started to ring. She glanced at it and saw it was Kagome. “I’m sorry, Miroku. Hold on, it’s Kagome. Hello?”

Miroku waited patiently, not too bothered at the interruption. The priestess was likely calling to check in on her friend after the intense battle they had fought the previous night. However, it quickly became clear to him that this was not the case.

“Kagome?” Sango asked when Kagome hadn’t responded. She heard sniffling and choked sobs on the other end of the line. There was music playing in the background. “Kagome, what’s wrong??”

“Inuyasha left me!!” Kagome wailed. Sango could finally pick out the song playing in the background. It sounded like Stay by Rihanna. Kagome was the type of person who, when she was upset or sad, listened to music to make her even more sad. Sango could just picture the way Kagome was huddled on her bed, probably singing along to it as tears rolled down her face before she had called her.

“What do you mean ‘he left you?’”

“Exactly what I said. You were wrong, Sango. I kissed him and now he doesn’t even want to be around me anymore!” Kagome said in a voice thick with tears.

“What did he say to you?” Sango asked. Jinenji had said not to put any weight on her leg for a couple days but if she had to go over to the Higurashi Shrine and kick a dog demon’s ass then that’s exactly what she would do.

“Nothing. He talked to my mom while I was asleep.” Kagome sniffled. “He told her something happened between us and he thought it was best to keep some distance between us now. It has to be because I kissed him! I ruined everything!”

Sango could tell Kagome was quickly spiraling.

“Kagome, I’m going to come over and talk some sense into him. Miroku and I will handle everything. Don’t worry; I’m going to fix this.” She assured her best friend. Kagome mumbled an acknowledgement and they hung up.

“What exactly are we going to handle?” Miroku asked curiously. He had gathered that something had happened between Inuyasha and Kagome again and wondered what his best friend had done this time.

“Sorry, Miroku. I know I promised I would talk to you today but it’s going to have to wait. Your best friend is making my best friend cry so we’re going over there to straighten him out.” Sango replied as she stood up from the couch and walked into his bedroom. “I’m going to get dressed then we’re going.”

Now Miroku was really curious as to what had happened. He waited for Sango and several minutes later she emerged in her slayer suit. He stared at her.

“Why are you wearing your slayer gear?” He asked her, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“Just in case.” Sango said as she limped past him.

“Just in case what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am, in fact, very worried about it now.”

Sango didn’t respond as they left. She allowed him to help her down the stairs and then they were on their way. Aside from a short explanation on what Kagome had told her she was silent the whole drive, her face set in an expression that promised pain. Miroku was just glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of her wrath. Once they arrived, she turned to him.

“Go find Inuyasha and talk some sense into him.” She told him.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll go find Kagome and try to calm her down. You better hope you can convince Inuyasha to get his head out of his ass and talk to her.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

With those rather ominous words she exited the car, heading into the Higurashi residence while Miroku got out and sighed. He was mildly annoyed that Inuyasha’s actions were delaying his conversation with Sango. Of course, he understood why Sango was holding off-- her best friend came first. He set off in search of his own best friend, entering the forest. There was an advantage to having known Inuyasha as long as he had and one of those was knowing what spots Inuyasha liked to retreat to when he was sulking or otherwise in a mood. After only a little bit of searching Miroku came upon him. Inuyasha was sitting high up on the branch of a particular tree, scowling.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He demanded without preamble.

“Apparently to talk some sense into you.” Miroku replied.

“Oh yeah? It better not be about Kagome.”

“That’s exactly what this is about and I think you know it. Inuyasha, why did you leave her side?”

“Because I almost fucking killed her, that’s why. I’m a danger to her. She’s better off if I keep my distance.”

“You know she thinks it’s because she kissed you. She called Sango, crying.” Miroku told him.

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks!” Inuyasha snapped back. “Now leave me the fuck alone, I’m not changing my mind!”

“You have a woman who actually genuinely cares for you, wants to be with you, and you’re pushing her away. Just like you do with everyone. Stop making things so difficult for yourself!”

“What part of ‘I almost killed her’ do you not get?!”

“You didn’t kill her, though! You didn't even hurt her! If anything, she’s the only one who could have possibly gotten through to you. I was honestly shocked. She accepts you, all of you, but you can’t just let yourself believe it!”

“Come back with the relationship advice once you manage to get your own girl to agree to have anything to do with you! Is she still rejecting you every chance she gets?” Inuyasha sneered.

Miroku took a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper. Maybe he should let Sango handle this, after all.

“Actually, if it hadn’t been for your bone-headed actions I would probably be making a lot more progress with her, but thanks to you, that’s been put on hold until things are sorted out between you and Kagome. Sango won’t do anything while her best friend is very clearly upset, and the cause of that upset is you.”

“Yeah, sure, likely story. Don’t take your frustrations over your failure to get a woman out on me!”

Clearly this wasn’t working. Miroku was done. Words would not be enough to sway his friend; Inuyasha was far too stubborn. Refusing to let the half demon take out his woes on him, he turned on his heel and walked away without another word. When he had reached the Higurashi residence again he found Sango in Kagome’s room, entering after a knock and an assent to come in.

Kagome’s eyes were red and there was music playing. Sango looked up at him from where she sat on the bed with the priestess, one of her arms wrapped around her. He paused.

“Is… is this Say Something by A Great Big World playing right now?” He asked.

“Yes…” Kagome’s voice wobbled as she hiccuped, more tears falling from her cinnamon eyes.

“She has a whole playlist going on Spotify right now. She gets like this.” Sango explained. “How did it go?”

“Not well.” Miroku said. Kagome cried harder at that and Sango narrowed her eyes.

“Kagome, I’ll be back.” She told her best friend.

“What are you going to do?”

Miroku also wanted to know the answer to that question.

“I’m going to take care of this.” She responded cryptically, leaving the room. Miroku followed her out and down the stairs. She limped to his car and undid the latch to the trunk, retrieving her Hiraikotsu.

“Sango, what are you doing? Why are you taking your weapon?”

“Because I may have to kill your best friend if he doesn’t stop acting like an immature asshole.”

Well, that escalated quickly. He loved how fiercely loyal and protective she was, though. She also sounded deadly serious.

“Sango, maybe this can wait a couple days? At least until you can put weight on your left leg again. Inuyasha will likely still be up in his tree sulking.” Miroku tried to suggest. She turned her glare on him and he internally withered at that stare.

“No. I don’t give a shit. I’m taking care of this now, today. Kagome doesn’t deserve to be toyed with because your asshole friend can’t get his shit together. She never really allowed herself to get close to boys because of her duties. She has always been there for me; through the breakups, the fallouts, the training, the jobs-- everything. Now tell me where he is.”

Miroku told her, giving in. Inuyasha had brought this upon himself, after all. He certainly wasn’t going to stand in Sango’s way, not when she looked like she was prepared to march through hell itself. It was best to just stand back and let her do whatever it was she felt needed to be done. His approach obviously hadn’t worked. As Sango disappeared into the forest to confront Inuyasha, Miroku headed back inside and upstairs to where Kagome was. As he neared her room he heard more sad music playing.

She looked up as he reentered her room. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed next to her, giving her a comforting smile and rubbing her shoulder. She leaned into it, still crying but clearly trying to get her tears under control.

“I know I’m not Sango, but I have a free shoulder to cry on if you’re interested.” He told her. Kagome needed no further encouragement and buried her face in his shoulder. He patted her back in soothing motions.

“Miroku?”

“Hmm?”

“Where did Sango go?”

“To talk to Inuyasha.”

“What’s the point?!” She wailed into his shoulder. “I kissed him and now he can’t even stand to be around me!”

“Kagome, that’s definitely not the reason.” Miroku assured her. “I won’t deny that he’s being a stubborn ass right now, though.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I don’t really know if it’s my place to say, but screw it. He’s being an idiot because he’s concerned that he almost killed you in his demonic state. Of course, there’s probably more to it but that’s the gist.”

Kagome raised her head from his shoulder and sniffled loudly. Disbelief was written all over her face, and then her eyebrows lowered as she scowled.

“Well that’s just stupid! He would never do that.”

“I know, Kagome. After last night, that much is apparent.” Miroku agreed. “Sango must be talking with him right now. I’m sure she’ll succeed where I failed.”

What Miroku failed to mention was that her “talking” was likely to involve a lot more action than actual words. Kagome didn’t need to know that, though.

~☆~

Inuyasha's ears twitched as he heard someone approaching again. Why couldn't they all just leave him the fuck alone? This was for the best, and besides it's not like he was shirking his duties. He would still make sure she was kept safe. He would give his life to keep her from harm. But she had been clear that there was to be nothing more between them, not to mention he was still alarmed at how close he had come to giving in to his demon blood and ripping into her. The only thing that had stopped him, the only thing, had been his baser instincts recognizing her as his mate; that had superseded the need for the kill. That, and her kiss. That still had him confused, why she had kissed him when he had been going on a demonic rampage. It didn't matter, though. This was for the best. And if he told himself that enough times he might start to believe it.

His first thought was that it was Miroku coming to try and convince him again but after scenting the air and listening to the cadence of the footsteps he realized it wasn’t him but Sango. Great. First the monk, now the slayer. Miroku must have told her where to find him. She finally came into view and her expression was murder. The fact that she was dressed head to toe in her slayer gear, complete with weapons, wasn’t lost on him.

“Inuyasha!” She called out, spotting him in his perch. He huffed.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asked rudely.

“You already know what. Why are you being like this? Do you not care how your actions are breaking Kagome’s heart?!”

“She’ll get over it. It’s not like she was interested in me as anything more than a friend, anyways. Don’t be dramatic and tell me I’m breaking her heart.”

Sango looked at him like he was stupid and it pissed him off.

“The fuck are ya looking at me like that for?!” He demanded.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“That she’s in love with you, you idiot!” Sango yelled at him. Inuyasha’s world stopped for a few seconds at that declaration. Then he scoffed, crossing his arms.

“You expect me to believe that? She was pretty fucking clear she wanted me to forget anything that happened the night you guys got drunk off your asses!”

Sango was still looking at him like he was stupid and when she spoke again she spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child.

“That’s because she thinks you’d never feel the same about her.”

Inuyasha would have been sure the slayer was lying but he could smell the veracity of her statement. The hope that inspired was quickly squashed by the reminder that he had still almost killed her, she had gotten badly hurt on his watch making him a failure as a protector, and the fact that she was a priestess and he was a half demon. Just because he had recognized Kagome as his mate didn’t mean that everything was going to magically just work out. His life wasn’t that simple or easy. Nothing ever was for him, not as a half breed.

“Just leave. It doesn’t matter.” Inuyasha told her in a dismissive tone, turning his back to her. Of course she didn’t fucking leave. God dammit.

“Seriously?! Stop acting like such a fucking child!” Sango snarled at him angrily.

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“I swear Inuyasha, if you don’t go to her right now and talk to her I will slay your ass!”

Inuyasha turned a look on her and his gold eyes widened. She had moved into a battle stance, her Hiraikotsu at the ready. This crazy bitch was serious. What the fuck??

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to stay off that leg? You seriously expect me to fight you when you’re probably weak as fuck after that fight last night?”

Sango deftly threw her weapon at him in answer. Inuyasha swore and dodged, dropping down from his perch to land lightly on his feet at the base of the tree as the boomerang returned to her grip. She prepared to throw it again.

“You want to put that theory to the test? Don’t fucking try me.” Sango replied with steel in her voice. “Kagome is my best friend and I will hurt anyone who hurts her.”

“My demon blood took complete control! What if I had hurt her?? I can’t risk that!” Inuyasha finally snapped.

“Are you playing at ignorance or are you really that fucking stupid?!” Sango demanded. “Your demon half responded to her! She was able to calm you down with her touch, with her kiss for fuck’s sake! Something nobody should have been able to do. What the hell do you think that means?!”

Shit. Sango had also figured out Kagome was his mate.

“I’m not stupid but she’s a fucking priestess, okay! I’m not gonna make her choose between her duties or me!” Inuyasha yelled.

“Who says she has to choose? And how dare you take that decision away from her. You owe her that much! She’s never had this kind of opportunity before! She deserves a choice!” Sango fired back. “Now, are you going to get your shit together and go talk to her or do I have to waste my time fighting your stupid ass?”

Inuyasha was quiet for a moment, thinking about his options. Sango was clearly not going to budge. She was fiercely loyal, to a fault even, and fighting her would only cause more problems. He had no real desire to fight her either. Kagome was already incredibly upset and as for Miroku, well...the monk was head over heels for Sango, and Inuyasha didn't need his best friend pissed at him too. Sango was also making a lot of sense, assuming what she said about Kagome’s feelings was true. Maybe he had just been too twisted up inside to see all the points she was making. Or maybe he had just needed someone almost as brash and headstrong as he was to get past his stubbornness and point out what should have been obvious.

"Fuck. I'm an idiot." He said aloud.

"Yes, we've already established that." Sango replied. "Now, are you going to go fix things with her?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm goin'." Inuyasha grumbled and began to head back to the shrine. As he passed Sango he paused. "Here, get on my back. I'll carry ya. That leg of yours don't need any more weight put on it."

Sango figured that was his version of an apology to her and accepted his offer. The wound was definitely aching after all the strain she had placed upon it today, as was the injury to her chest after throwing her Hiraikotsu. It would be a few days until she was at one hundred percent again. Or even longer, according to Jinenji. She just hoped Tsubaki didn't strike again in the meantime. Hopefully after the loss of her accomplice and apprentice she would be licking her wounds and need time to regroup.

As they made their way back Sango pulled out her phone, calling Miroku. He answered after the first ring.

“Sango?” His tone was cautious, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Hey. We’re headed back. You want to meet me by the car?” She said.

Miroku let out a breath he had clearly been holding. “We? As in you and Inuyasha? You’re both...in one piece?”

“Yup.”

“How did you get through to him?”

“Sometimes a straightforward approach is best. Also, I knew some things you probably didn’t. Like--”

“Hey! I’m right fucking here, ya know!” Inuyasha cut in, ears flicking in annoyance. “Can you guys at least wait until I’m not around before you talk about me?”

“Of course, our apologies, Inuyasha.” Miroku said through the phone, although there was amusement in his voice.

“I bet you’re just happy this is dealt with so you can get back to making progress with Sango, whatever that means.” Inuyasha continued snarkily.

Sango blushed at the half demon’s words and wondered what Miroku had told Inuyasha about the things that had happened between them. Unbidden, the image of herself drunk and wrapped around Miroku, as well as the way she had felt his body respond, popped into her mind and she felt a tingle of heat creep through her.

“Can you not get turned on thinking about him when I’m carrying ya?” Inuyasha asked in a disgusted voice.

“What?!” Sango blurted out and Miroku laughed on the other end of the phone.

“Your scent just--” Inuyasha started.

“I’m hanging up now!” Sango rushed out, interrupting him and cutting off Miroku’s reply about how he was really interested in what the change in her scent meant.

Inuyasha snickered at Sango’s obvious embarrassment and she glared at the back of his head.

“Was that really necessary?” She groused at him. Inuyasha just snickered some more. Asshole. Finally they left the forest and were back at the Higurashi residence. Miroku was waiting for her by the car as she had requested and he was grinning. She inwardly groaned. This was just what she needed before having her talk with him.

Inuyasha let Sango down, then turned and bounded up to the window of Kagome’s bedroom. He didn’t bother to tell them goodbye; he had other priorities right now. Such as the girl on the other side of that window. The harsh scent of salt from all her tears she’d likely been crying assailed his sensitive nose. He slid the window open, entering her room and she looked up at his entrance, nose red and eyes puffy from crying. She didn’t look surprised to see him but he had already figured Miroku told her that Sango had convinced him to come and talk to her. She didn’t say anything, just stared at him, tears still falling from those beautiful brown eyes of hers. Fuck.

“Shit. S-stop cryin’!” Inuyasha said, feeling slightly panicky. This was all his fault.

“I can’t just turn it off!!” Kagome yelled, still crying. “You’re the reason I’m crying! You told my mom you wanted to distance yourself from me when I-- when I--” She broke off, unable to finish the sentence, her voice choked by a sob.

Inuyasha crossed the space between them in a few steps and pulled her into an embrace, holding her tightly to him.

"Listen. Romance ain't really my strong suit but clearly I’ve messed up here and seriously misread what you were tryin’ to tell me yesterday.” Inuyasha began. “I’m so sorry, Kagome. But I’m here now.”

“Why the hell did you even try to leave to begin with?”

“Just hear me out, would ya? When I lost control to my demonic half last night...it was one of the few times I’ve ever been so scared in my very long life. I was so close to ripping into you, hurting you… there was only one reason I was able to hold back. And that reason combined with how you had told me you wanted me to forget anything you said or did the night you got drunk, well, I figured you didn’t want a half breed like me.” Inuyasha explained.

“I said that because I thought you wouldn’t ever want me. A priestess. I didn't want things to be awkward. I just--I wanted us to be friends, even if you didn’t like me,” Kagome replied, her face still buried in his chest.

“I told you I liked being around you!”

“That’s not the same as saying you like or love me.” She argued. Then she blushed as she spoke her next words. “Also, I k-kissed you. It doesn’t get much more obvious than that.”

“I know, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. I just thought maybe I was too obvious about my own feelings and...other things, that you somehow figured out your touch was the only way to stop me.”

“What other things? Inuyasha, you said there was only one reason you were able to hold back from hurting me. What was that reason?” Kagome pulled back slightly, but only just enough so that she could gaze up at him. Inuyasha looked slightly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know how much you know about demons and mates but demons only have one. When you meet them, it’s instinctual, you just know. With my human blood it got muddled a little bit when we first met; but I eventually figured out you were mine. That’s the only thing that stopped me from killing you last night. The reason you were able to calm me down. My demon half recognized you as...well, mine.”

Something about being called mine by Inuyasha made warmth bloom inside Kagome’s chest. It felt...right. She wanted to be his.

“Oh.” She said, smiling now. “Why...why didn’t you tell me?”

“Seriously? You have to ask that question?”

“Well, why not?”

“You mean aside from other reasons I just gave??”

Kagome just continued to look at him expectantly.

“You’re a priestess and I’m a half demon. I’ve never heard of any demon mating with a priestess before and figured this was just fate’s way giving me a giant ‘fuck you.’ Kagome, I don’t want to make you choose between your duties and me.” Inuyasha replied. “You don’t have to agree to anything you don’t want to. We can just go on being ‘friends’ or whatever.”

“But I do want you.” She told him honestly, bringing her hands up between them to clutch at his haori. “I want to be with you. I want to be yours. I love you, Inuyasha. I don’t care that you’re a half demon. And I refuse to believe that I can’t be both a priestess and your mate. You’re the only person who has honestly made me feel this way. I just thought… Maybe there was something wrong with me. I don’t know. But I don’t want to give up this feeling.”

Inuyasha’s world stopped for the second time that day. Sango had told him that Kagome had feelings for him, but to hear those words of love and acceptance spilling from her own beautiful pink lips, he could scarcely believe it. He had never imagined anyone would ever love him, ever accept him and want him in the ways she was telling him that she did. He wasn’t one for the mushy stuff but he felt his heart grow full at the sight of the woman in his arms gazing up at him with eyes so full of love and adoration. Fuck, he loved her so much. He had no idea it was possible to care for someone so much.

“Kagome…” He said, voice thick with the emotion that he rarely let show. “God, I love you.”

He leaned down and kissed her, the feel of her lips on his sending fire through his body. She melted into him and moved her hands from his haori to wrap around his neck to keep him in place. Without hesitation, she kissed him back and it only fueled his own passion. His tongue lightly traced the seam of her lips and she parted them, allowing him entry. The way her scent had changed was absolutely intoxicating to him and he lifted her in his arms, practically carrying her, and she enthusiastically climbed him as their kisses turned more heated. Finally, they broke apart, panting and staring into each other’s eyes.

“Sorry. I got a little carried away.” Inuyasha said, his voice husky with desire for her, resting his forehead against hers. “We should take this slowly; I have no idea what mating will do to your powers.”

Kagome giggled, giving him a shy but happy smile. “I’m not complaining. And nothing will happen to my powers.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Inuyasha…” She sighed, half in bliss and half in exasperation. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, I want you to kiss me again. And again. And again.”

Smirking now, Inuyasha was only too happy to obey.

~☆~

Sango fidgeted nervously as she sat on the couch again. Miroku had teased her on the car ride home as she had known he would. He took great pleasure in seeing her grow flustered at the mention of how Inuyasha had said she was getting “turned on by thinking about him.” She should have just slayed that stupid dog demon. The only way she had gotten Miroku to shut up about it was to alternately threaten to remove him from the moving vehicle they were both in (despite the fact that he was driving) and pleading with him to please just wait until they were back home.

“Fine. But I’m not letting you get out this one, not this time. We are definitely talking about it.” Miroku had told her with a knowing smirk and another laugh. She had glared halfheartedly but hadn’t argued. And now the moment of truth was finally upon her, for the second time that day. This time, for sure, she would tell him her feelings. She sat, inches away from where Miroku was sitting next to her, and stared at her hands in her lap, trying to find her voice, trying to figure out where to begin.

“Sango?” Miroku prompted, when her silence had stretched on a little too long. “I know we got interrupted this morning but I’m ready to hear all the things you said you wanted to say to me.”

“Uhm...I know I promised I would, and I want to, but I’m sorry this is just...this is difficult for me. I’m not good at talking about my feelings.” Sango managed, still staring at her hands.

“No, really? I would have never guessed.” Miroku teased sarcastically. Sango gave him an annoyed look and he gave her a lopsided smile in return. Reaching into her lap with his own hands he stilled her fidgeting, holding her hands in his. “Sango, it’s okay. Just talk to me.”

Sango took a deep breath, looking at her hands in his, as she spoke.

“Miroku, I...I know I said a lot of things, and-- and did a lot of things the night I got drunk. Things I wasn’t quite ready for you to hear or admit out loud, even to myself, but now they’re out there in the open and I can’t take it back so I guess I have to be honest now. And I want to be honest with you, about how I feel about you, it’s only fair, but it’s hard. I…I’ve had some bad experiences with guys but you’ve proven yourself to be worthy of my trust so I really don’t have any good excuses to keep putting this off-- to keep denying how you make me feel. And what I want.”

“And how do you feel about me, Sango? What do you want?” Miroku asked, hardly daring to breathe as he waited for her answer.

Sango hesitantly raised her eyes to meet his own. He was looking at her with a quiet intensity and it took her breath away for a moment, her heart fluttering in her chest. Or maybe that was the nerves.

“I...I really like you. I think I may even lo-...love you.” She swallowed, stumbling over the word a little bit and blushing. “I want you. To be with you.”

Miroku felt the air leave his lungs in a rush. She had said it. He used his grip on her hands to pull her the rest of the way to him, then released them in favor of wrapping his arms around her, holding her to him. Resting his chin on top of her head, he was unable to stop himself from embracing her after her heartfelt confession. Waves of desire and love for her were flowing through him. Those words had been music to his ears. He hadn’t expected to hear her say them so soon, and had thought he would have to wait longer. They had only really known each other for about a month, after all, and Sango was reserved when it came to expressing anything like romantic feelings. But she admitted she loved him. He wanted to jump up and celebrate but felt Sango wouldn’t appreciate it so he settled for holding her body tightly to his.

“M-Miroku...I’m not done.” Sango said, her voice muffled a little by his chest.

“Sorry, I couldn’t contain my joy at hearing those words from you, my dear Sango.” Miroku said, kissing the top of her head. “I’m still listening.”

“I was scared of getting hurt but I can tell what you feel for me is genuine. I want to be with you but I’m not fully ready to act on my...my desires. But I don’t want to keep pushing you away, either.”

As if contradicting her words, Sango brought her own arms up and wrapped them around Miroku, and rubbed her face against his chest, letting out a soft sigh.

“And by ‘desires’ you mean…?” Miroku asked leadingly.

“Like when I asked you to s-sleep with me when I was drunk, or getting t-t-turned on thinking about you earlier but--but that’s only because I was remembering the way I had held onto you that night and the way your-- your body--” Her face was bright red. Oh God, what was she saying??

“When my body responded to your rather aggressive sexual advances?” Miroku offered helpfully, trying to control his smirk. She pulled away, releasing him, words still spilling from her lips in an uncontrolled deluge.

“I mean obviously I want to sleep with you-- I mean, Oh God!! I don’t mean I’m dying to sleep with you! I’m not! I mean I want to-- I mean no-- not that I don’t want to or that I don’t find you attractive, because I do, like really attractive-- Oh God, I mean-- and I do want you in that way too but like--”

Oh God, why was she still talking?? She needed somebody to shut her up, say something, anything, to get her to stop talking right now.

“Aren’t you going to say something?!” Sango finally asked him, a little desperately.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dare interrupt. Please, continue. I’m dying to hear what comes next.” Miroku replied with amusement in his indigo eyes. Sango smacked him on the arm.

“M-my point is, I don’t want to jump into anything physical right away. I don't have much experience with these kinds of things. My first, and only, time wasn’t pleasant and even though I know you would never do to me what he did, I still…” Sango trailed off, feeling incredibly vulnerable. She couldn’t remember the last time she had allowed herself to let her walls down this much for someone, but Miroku had broken through all her defenses so quickly and easily. She trusted him, felt safe opening up to him in ways she hadn’t imagined she ever would.

“I understand. And I’m sorry you had to go through that. You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” Miroku told her gently, allowing her the choice to either open up or keep it to herself. She surprised him by telling him exactly what had happened, and it was even worse than what Kagome had said. Not only had this douche ridiculed her scars, after seeing a particularly bad one on her back he hadn’t even finished and pulled out while retching. She was clearly uncomfortable recounting the story, almost ashamed. It made Miroku livid.

“You didn’t deserve that, and he didn’t deserve you. You’re beautiful, Sango.”

“You haven’t even seen the scar.” She protested.

“It doesn’t matter. No scar could ever make you unattractive in my eyes or make me not want you.” Miroku responded without hesitation.

Sango wrapped her arms back around him and rested her head on his shoulder, saying nothing. He hadn’t even said the words, not yet, but still she felt so loved in that moment. Then Miroku shifted and she gave a small yelp of surprise as he pulled her onto his lap. She raised her head to look at him and their faces were so close she could almost taste his breath as she became acutely aware of all the places her body was pressed up against his. She could feel his body heat seeping into her and she wanted to press herself closer to him, wanted to curl up and bask in that warmth.

“So does this mean I can call you my girlfriend, now?” Miroku asked with a lopsided grin.

“Yes, I guess it does.” Sango shyly agreed, giving a smile in return.

“Excellent. Please don’t slap me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to kiss you, now.”

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, cupping the back of her head with one hand while the other caressed her shoulders before moving south, stopping at the small of her back. Sango leaned into the kiss, keeping one hand on his shoulder and burying the other one in his hair, anchoring herself to him. His lips were so soft against hers and she wanted more. She kissed him back hungrily, allowing herself to take what she had wanted for weeks.

Miroku was momentarily surprised at her enthusiasm but it only incited his own need for her. God, he wanted her so much. Loved her so much. He tasted her and her lips were sweet like cherries. She parted them for him and he needed no further encouragement, taking what she was freely offering. The hand on her back slipped lower to cup her ass, giving a soft squeeze, and before she could stop herself Sango let out a small moan. They both froze, breaking apart and breathing heavily. Sango’s eyes were wide as if she couldn’t believe the sound that had just escaped her mouth, her cheeks flushed. Whether from embarrassment or passion, he couldn’t tell.

“I, uhm…I suppose we should stop.” Sango said with lips swollen by his kisses. She licked them and he followed the movement of her tongue with his eyes before meeting her gaze again. Her chocolate eyes were full of undisguised longing and her cheeks pinked further. Definitely blushing, he decided.

“That’s probably a good idea. Much more of this and I’ll have you on the floor.” Miroku agreed, trying to make a joke out of it, but it was impossible to hide the want in his voice. “Sango, I haven't said this yet, but I love you. Truly, madly, deeply, I am in love with you, and I can’t imagine ever wanting any other woman but you ever again.”

“Miroku…” Sango said his name and it was almost a sigh of content.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stick to just kissing, for now. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable for more. You’re worth the wait.” Miroku told her, then his smile turned into a smirk as his eyes took on a mischievous gleam. “In the meantime there are other, albeit less pleasurable, ways of satisfying myself. And I’ll be thinking about you every single time.” He winked.

Sango’s face turned tomato red and she sputtered. He laughed at her reaction.

“You’re so cute.”

“You didn't have to be so--so--so...honest!! What the hell!!”

“Would you prefer I think about someone else, then?”

“No!!!” Her denial was immediate. He laughed some more and gave her another quick kiss.

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

She smacked his shoulder. He was so impossible. And perverted. But now he was hers. And that thought pleased her.

[thetravelerwrites]

Wrykas (Minotaur) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Female Human/Male Minotaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Minotaur, Sex, Oral Sex, Princess, Mercenaries, Light Dom/Sub Relationship, Chubby Reader, Reader-Insert Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Abusive Parents, Neglectful Parents, Words: 6349

A submission for @hufflesmonsters​! A princess is kidnapped fairly regularly by an opposing kingdom's monarchy to spite her parents, but she comes to regard the time away from her neglectful parents as vacations. One day, a single mercenary comes to retrieve her, but a sudden snowstorm forces them to spend time alone together. Please leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Being a princess came with perks and pitfalls. On the plus side, you got whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it. On the down side, your country had been in a petty feud with the neighboring kingdom since before you were born, and they seemed to think you were an excellent bargaining chip to get their demands met.

The abductions started when you were young; men hired by the crown took you from your room and held you in a secure location until your parents paid the ransom. Back then they were pretty terrifying, with blindfolds and ropes. Your captors were kind, however, and treated you well.

As you aged, though, your capture turned into something of a spontaneous vacation a couple of times a year. Your abductors would come in the dead of night, wake you and let you pack a bag, lead you to a waiting carriage, complete with wine and snacks, and you’d all tease each other as they carted you off to a chalet on the border of your two kingdoms. Both you and they thought this feud was stupid and that the abductions were a joke, but they had a job to do and you understood: got to pay the bills somehow.

The hostage situation usually ended one of two ways: either your parents paid the ransom, or they sent bonehead mercenaries who weren’t aware that this was mostly a picnic for you and came in all valiant and foolhardy, and your captors had to knock them all out, dump them back over the border, and pretend you escaped in the chaos to avoid bloodshed. You’d all struck a deal early on: no blood, no tears, no widows, no orphans. A couple of bumps on the head and some bruised egos, sure, but no one died. That was the rule. If your captors ever broke that rule, you’d become a lot less cooperative.

One night, very late into autumn, you woke to hear someone tip-toe into your room. Ah, yes. It was about time.

“Ethan?” You called.

“Yes, My Lady. It’s time,” You heard his voice call. Ethan was an older gentleman and was your first captor, gentle and accommodating, and he always oversaw your care during the abductions. He was the closest thing you had to a best friend. It was a shame you only saw him a few times a year.

“Finally,” You said, leaping out of bed and throwing on a dressing gown. “I’ve had a bag packed for weeks. You’re terribly late this season. I’ve been dying to get out of here.”

He chuckled. “My apologies, Lady, the opposing crown has been unusually reasonable this year. But it always comes back around, doesn’t it?”

“Thank the gods,” You replied, grabbing a few things from your vanity table. “I don’t know what I’d do without these trips abroad. Another day of my mother fussing about my ‘healthy appetite’ and I’ll go batty. I hate this place. Any time I can get away is a blessing.”

Ethan nodded knowingly. You’d complained to him many a time about your parents haughty nature and constant criticism of everything about you, from your weight to how you dress to your relaxed and casual attitude toward the servants.

Your parents were the worst sort of nobility, the kind people fawned over when in their presence but mocked scathingly behind their back. They were proud and arrogant and hard to please, and you were a prime example of everything they disliked. You took it as a compliment, but you did have to admit that their relentless judgment was wearing, and any break from the ferocious nagging was a welcome relief.

“Ready, Lady?” Ethan asked.

“Yes,” You said, taking his proffered hand. “And what did I tell you? You can call me by my name.”

“Nope,” He said, grinning. “You may not care about the propriety of your station, but I’d rather not have my tongue cut out, if you please.”

You sighed. “Fine, fine. Let’s just get out of here.”

There was a tunnel under the castle that a previous monarch had used to escape during a coup, and it was little known by anyone besides you. This tunnel had been discovered during your first abduction when your kidnappers hid from guards, and now it was your favorite means of escaping the castle. It led out to the woods a safe distance from the walls, where guards patrolled, and made it easy to get away.

It had taken you much effort to keep the entrance and exit hidden over the years, since your parents kept trying to discover how the kidnappers kept getting in and out so easily, but you had managed to keep it secret.

When you both were safely inside and the entrance was sealed, Ethan lit a torch and the two of you made your way out into the woods. Once there, he led you to the waiting carriage and ushered you inside. He jumped up into the driver’s box with Ira, another regular who you were friendly with, and snapped the reins, jolting the carriage forward and toward your secret hideaway.

It was nearly mid-day by the time you arrived there, and you had fallen asleep on the way. Ethan gently shook you awake and took your bag, offering you a hand as you stepped down. Ah… if only he weren’t married.

“How long do you think I’ve got?” You asked him as he opened the door to the perfectly kept chalet.

“Oh, likely a week. I mean, they know where the chalet is, but at this point, finding mercenaries that we haven’t beaten up will be difficult.”

“Wonderful,” I said, clapping my hands and opening my luggage. “I can’t wait to get settled and relax for a while.”

“We’ve got guards patrolling the perimeter. If there’s any trouble, we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Ethan,” You said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You and your men are my best boys. If I ever become queen, you lads are definitely hired as my Queen’s Guard.”

He grinned and bowed, leaving you to get comfortable.

That evening, most of the boys who weren’t out guarding the perimeter sat with you for a full dinner and a card game. You took Tebin for every coin he was worth, and Jos won it all back with a smug grin on his wide face. Ruik got drunk and tried wearing your dressing gown, but being a goblin, it trailed several feet behind him as he moved and he tripped over it constantly, making the chalet shake with laughter. The boys may have been hardened mercenaries, but they always had the best booze and sure knew how to show a lady a good time.

Around midnight, when things were winding down, there was some commotion outside in the distance. All the men got grim looks on their faces, except for Ruik, who was passed out on a footstool, and pulled out their weapons. You pulled your own short sword from under the mattress and leveled it at the door. The sword had been a gift on your thirteenth birthday from the lads, and each one had taken it upon themselves to show you a trick or two with it.

“Ethan!” Gern called. He was the only orc on the team. “You better get out here! We’ve got a spot of trouble!”

“What’s going on?” Ethan called through the door.

“Big fella took out the perimeter guard. They ain’t dead, but their gonna be limpin’ tomorrow. Big bastard says he won’t hurt nobody else if you come out and have a chat with him. Says he knows you.”

“Ask him his name!” Ethan responded.

There was a few seconds of muffled conversation, and Gern called back, “Wrykas!”

Ethan’s eyes widened and he sheathed his sword. “Wrykas?” He said in an undertone. “Holy shit, I thought he was dead.” He turned to you. “Stay here, lass, I’ll sort this out.” He looked at the other lads. “Keep her safe.”

The others nodded sternly and tightened the grip on their various weapons. The lot of you waited tersely as Ethan talked to the newcomer, unable to hear what they were saying. After a moment, Ethan came back in and instructed everyone to lower their weapons. The boys did so reluctantly. You lowered your own sword, but kept it in hand.

Ethan came back into the cottage, followed by an absolutely massive minotaur that had to duck in order to get his horns in the door. You were taken aback by his size and coloration. You’d seen minotaurs before, but this one was striking. He had white fur from the tip of his nose to the top of his head, and also down his chest, but his ears and eyes were brown, and his neck, back, and shoulders were covered in black fur. There were white and brown speckles, like freckles, on his shoulders.

Oh no… he’s cute.

Ethan slapped Wrykas on the shoulder. “This is an old army buddy of mine, Wrykas.” Ethan then introduced all of the gang.

“And I assume this little lady is the princess I’ve been hired to retrieve?” The minotaur asked.

“No! Already?” You whined, tutting. “Damn it. I was hoping for at least a few days of peace and quiet.”

Wrykas snorted, seemingly confused. “You don’t… want to go back?”

“Hell no! I hate it there. These ‘abductions’ are the only time I get to be myself and not have to worry about my parents bullshit. You’re ruining my vacation, you dick!”

Wrykas’s head rocked back in surprise. Whatever he expected you to say to him, that wasn’t it.

You groaned and began packing your things. “Did you bring the ransom?”

“I… no, their Majesties hired me to retrieve you. My skill is apparently something to be commended because they sought me out specifically.”

“Well, considering you took out four of Ethan’s men, there must be some truth to it.” You took out a sack of gold from your bag that was enough to both cover the ransom and buy the boys a few shiny new toys as well, and tossed it to Ethan. He snatched it from the air with a wink.

“You have the ransom?” Wrykas asked.

“Of course,” You scoffed. “These guys have mouths to feed. I’m not going to let their babies go hungry because my parents and the neighboring monarchy are having a twenty-five-year temper tantrum.”

“You’re… not what I expected from speaking with the crown,” Wrykas said.

“That’s not surprising,” You replied dryly as you help Ethan and the men get their gear together. “My parents don’t know anything about me. They haven’t bothered to know me since I was a small child.”

“Well,” Wrykas said, turning to Ethan and putting his hand on his old friend shoulders. “It’s the middle of the night. There’s no reason for your gang to move out now. You can get a fresh start in the morning.” He turned back to you. “We can, too.”

You sighed. “Well, I guess one full day of freedom is better than nothing.” You fluffed out your bed, preparing to get in it. “Ethan will show you where the men sleep. Be civil while you’re in there.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him, lass, no worries,” Ethan said, and you nodded. Ethan led the lads out behind Wrykas, though they were all still glaring at him tersely.

The rest of the night followed without incident, beyond Ruik climbing onto the foot of your bed, still wearing the dressing gown, and falling asleep at your feet like a puppy

The next morning, just after breakfast, the boys got their gear packed and ready to go. You’d miss them, like always, but they had other jobs to do and families to look after. They couldn’t be your boys all the time. They were other people’s boys, too.

As they were getting ready to head out, you leaned in close to Ethan and whisper, “Is this guy alright?” You jerked your head back at Wrykas. “Tell me the truth.”

“He’s a decent sort,” Ethan whispered back. “At least, he was in the army.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Fifteen years? Something like that. Before I left to become a sell sword.”

You fixed him with a wry expression. “Fifteen years is plenty of time for a person to change.”

Ethan wasn’t paying attention. He was looking down at you with a fond expression. “You were the first job I took, you know?”

You cocked your head and smiled. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” He said. “I didn’t know you were a child, though. They just told me to take the neighboring kingdom’s princess and hold her in a secure location. When I realized you were a child, I almost quit.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged a little and looked sheepish. “I’m ashamed to say I needed the money. I’d just had my first girl and we needed food.”

“And look at us now,” You said, smiling. “Best friends twice a year.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Life is weird.”

“So see you next spring, then?” You asked.

“If they don’t send us, we’ll come on our own, just so’s I can win back that sack of gold you took off me last night.”

You grinned. “Good luck with that. Kiss your girls for me,” You told him.

He pulled you into a bear hug. “I will,” he replied with a smile. “You look after yourself back at that prison. Don’t let your wardens get you down.”

You smiled back and nodded, pulling your cloak tighter around you against the late autumn chill. You then moved on to the others to give them hugs and kisses on the cheek. Wrykas sat on the woodcutting stump, watching all this happen.

The gang was off then, waving back at you as they left, and you watched them disappear around the bend and out of sight. Sighing sadly, you turned to your new companion, eyeing him with some skepticism.

“Hands to yourself,” You said. He put up his hands and raised his eyebrows in acquiescence. You then went back into the chalet to pack.

He stood with a shoulder braced on the doorframe, watching you, and folded his arms. “You say you expected to be here for several days?”

“Yep,” You said with a sigh. “I usually have a few days, either with the boys or by myself.” You stopped for a moment and reminisced. “There was one year where I had three whole weeks. Gods. Those were the best weeks of my life.”

“Why do you call them boys?” He asked curiously. “The youngest of them has to be at least five years your senior.”

“Because…” You shrugged. “They’re… my boys. My friends. What else would I call them?”

“They do kidnap you.”

“It’s not kidnapping if I want to go. It’s more like a rescue.”

He was silent for a moment, then walked over and took the dress you were packing from your hands.

“Do you really hate it there so much?” He asked.

“Yes,” You replied venomously.

“Why? You’re a princess. You live in a castle. You have servants waiting on you hand and foot. What’s so bad about that?”

You sighed again and turned to sit on the bed. “What was your life like, growing up?”

He seemed surprised by the questions and sat down next to you, his eyes distant.

“I grew up on a farm. It was backbreaking work and we barely raised enough to keep ourselves fed, let alone sell anything. Five minotaur boys is a lot of mouths to feed.”

“You have four brothers?” You asked him.

“Yeah,” He said. “They’re all still on the farm with my parents, but I couldn’t stand farm work. I wanted more. More money, more freedom, more acclaim, just… more, you know? More than the life of a farmer.”

“But you’re family? What were they like? Did they love you?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course they loved me, they were my family.”

“You’ve never wondered? You’ve never had reason to think they didn’t love you?” You pressed.

“No, never.” He squinted at you. “Is that how it is for you?”

You took a deep breath and released it slowly. “My parents’ marriage was arranged. More to the point, they really disliked each other and didn’t want to marry, but the political climate was tense and their marriage was the only thing preventing a war. Their dislike of each other turned to absolute hatred pretty quickly. The only reason I even exist is because they were expected to create an heir, and I couldn’t even manage to be born a boy.” You stared out the window at the fast moving clouds. “A disappointment from the beginning.”

“Gods,” He said softly, and you looked over and saw he was staring at you with a gentle expression, which did a weird thing to your stomach. “I can’t imagine a parent hating their own child.”

“Oh, my father is indifferent to the point of failing to acknowledge my existence most of the time. I don’t think he cares enough to actually hate me. That’s all my mother. When I was young, she used to have cute ‘pet names’ for me and offer ‘helpful suggestions’ that I know now were outright insults.”

“What sort of things would she say?” He asked.

“That I was her fat little piggy, that I’d eat my weight if she didn’t watch me, that if I stood straighter, I would look less like a gargoyle stalking it’s prey, that if I wore my hair up, people wouldn’t notice how mousy and stringy it was, that if I wore rouge and lip color, I’d look less like a rotting corpse. Things like that.”

“What a vile woman,” He said, scowling. “She seemed unpleasant when I met with her, but I didn’t realize how truly awful she was.”

“She’s not exactly secretive about it. The castle staff hates her. I’d know; I spend more time with them that I do with my parents, which is another point of contention.” You stretched and stood. “But, I guess there’s nothing for it. They’re waiting. I might as well get this over with.” You reached for the dress he was holding, but he didn’t let go.

“Actually, that’s what I was coming to talk to you about,” He said, pointing out the open door. He stood and beckoned you to follow him, and you did so. The fast moving clouds you’d seen out the window were growing dark.

“A storm?” You asked him.

“Not just a storm,” He replied, narrowing his eyes and flaring his nostrils. “Do you smell it?”

“Smell?”

“The change in the air. There’s a cold front coming. I’d bet anything the temperature is going to keep dropping. We’ll likely be up to our knees in snow by midnight.”

“Oh,” You said. “So… what do we do?”

“Wait it out,” He replied, looking down at you with a sly smile. “Looks like your vacation just got extended.”

You actually gave him a real smile then, trying hard not to bounce on your heels in excitement.

“Your firewood is low. I should cut some more before the snow starts,” He said.

“Alright,” You told him. “How much is in the men’s quarters?”

“Not sure,” He admitted. “Would you mind checking?”

“Alright,” You said, turning.

The chalet was split into two rooms that were not connected; in order to get from room to room, you had to go outside from one door and go inside through another. You’d never actually been in the men’s quarters before. There had never really been a reason to before now. When you went in, you were actually a little shocked at the sight of it.

It was as large as your own room, but that’s where the comparisons ended. Where your room was bright and decorated and had food and comforts aplenty, this room was completely bare. The floor was cold stone, there was a dark hearth at the end of the room and a stack of furs and threadbare blankets neatly folded in the corner. There were some shelves with jars of preserves, and a container of salted meat. That was it.

Gods, you had no idea they were sleeping in these conditions. Why hadn’t they said anything? You’d have sprung for beds and good blankets. You made up your mind with a frown to return here in a few weeks and leave some surprises for their next stay.

Next to the hearth, you saw a small pile of firewood, enough only for a few hours. Clutching your cloak, you ducked back outside. And stopped short.

Wrykas had removed his sleeveless tunic and was chopping wood shirtless. You could see the muscles in his back move against his skin as he raised the axe and brought it down to split the logs.

No.. no, no… Not good…

“There’s not much in there,” You called to him, smacking yourself mentally to pull yourself out of his obliques.

“I’ll cut up some extra, then,” He said, casually, bending to pick up another log and put it up on the stump, his arm flexing as it moved.

It was time to go do something that… was not slobbering over your would-be rescuer, so you decide to start on lunch.

Wrykas had been right. No sooner had he finished the wood that snow began to fall, softly at first, but getting heavier by the minute. He made quick work of stacking the wood next to your hearth and was surprised when you handed him a steaming bowl of soup.

“Thanks,” He said. “I wouldn’t have guessed you knew how to cook.”

“Cause I’m a princess?” You asked wryly. “I told you, I spend more time with the servants and kitchen staff than I do at galas or grand balls. If I had a proper kitchen, I could cook literally anything.”

“Full of surprises,” He said, winking at you. He was still shirtless. You keep your eyes on your soup and tried to keep from staring.

Night fell, and with it the came the storm Wrykas had warned you about.

“I should go start the fire in the men’s quarters,” Wrykas said.

“Actually,” You said, reaching out to stop him. “Why don’t you sleep in here tonight? Even with the fire, it’s bound to be terribly cold in there, and even with your tolerance, you’ll be freezing.”

He laughed. “I appreciate your concern, Lady, but I’ve slept in worse conditions.”

“Please,” you said, keeping your grip on his arm. “I insist.”

“You’re sure?” He asked, and you nodded. He looked startled, but replied, “Alright. If you wish.”

“Would you mind turning so I can change for the evening?” You asked him.

“Not at all,” He said, turning to face the wall.

You took off your restricting skirted bodice with a relieved sigh. You mother insisted you wear them to “maintain a semblance of a figure despite your unfortunate size,” so they were the only outerwear you had. You’d go around in your shift all day if it didn’t make the boys blush. They were more of a family to you than your own family, so you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable unnecessarily.

Wrykas, however…

You decided not to put on a nightdress or a dressing gown, and stayed in the sheer shift you wore under your outer clothes. You also took your hair out of it’s brain and let it hang freely around your shoulders. You felt a little self-conscious about your body and weight, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be comfortable.

“I’m finished,” You said. He turned and opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw you, no sound came out of his mouth. He just stood there, staring, and not saying anything.

You suppressed an urge to cover yourself. “Everything alright?” You asked him.

He jumped as if someone had smacked his mouth, and closed it. “Yes, sorry. I was… um… caught off guard.”

You snorted. “By what?”

He cleared his throat. “You… uh… you look nice.”

You blinked a few times. “I just took my hair down and I’m wearing less clothing. I didn’t do anything to look nice.”

“You still look nice,” He said, scratching his neck and looking at the ground.

“Well… would you like to play a card game?” You asked him.

“Actually, I’m a bit tired. I spent most of yesterday traveling here and I didn’t sleep well. I was thinking of turning in early, if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, sure, yes, of course,” You replied, going to your bed and pulling back the coverlet. When you turned back, you saw him laying out a fur on the ground.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

He looked at you, then the fur, and then back at you in confusion. “Laying out my bed?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said, patting the bed. “The bed is big enough for four people. There’s no reason for you to sleep on the floor. Come on.”

He visibly gulped. “Are you--”

“Get up here!” I said.

He smirked at me. “So demanding, princess. I wonder if anyone’s ever told you ‘no’ before.”

“Are you going to be the first?” You asked him, a hand on your hip.

He snorted and picked up the fur, laying it over the back of a chair. He put a few more logs in the hearth and extinguished the lanterns before coming to the bed. You scooched over to accommodate him. Gods, he was warm.

At first, you maintained a respectable distance apart, but as the night got colder, you found yourself moving closer and closer to Wrykas. If he felt you moving, he gave no sign.

The smell of him, his warmth, the memory of his muscles as he swung the axe, flooded your senses, and you could feel the rising tension in your body.

“Are you awake?” You asked softly.

“It is rather hard to sleep with a beautiful woman lying so close to me,” He said quietly.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to make jokes.”

He turned over and braced himself on his elbow, looking down at you with a frown. Did he have to be shirtless all the time? “What are you talking about?”

You didn’t answer. You tried to roll over, but he stopped you.

“Do you think I was joking when I said you were beautiful?” He asked.

“Weren’t you?”

“No,” He said seriously. You couldn’t help but notice that his hand was creeping up your arm.

“I’m plain and unappealing,” You told him.

“Bullshit,” He said. “You have the loveliest eyes of anyone I’ve ever seen. You hair looks like silk in the firelight. Your skin is so soft, it’s like you bath in lotion. I’ve never felt skin so soft.”

“I… I’m fat,” You said, your voice wavering.

“So what? There’s nothing wrong with your size. What about that makes you less attractive?”

“Ask my mother, she’ll tell you all about it,” You said sourly.

“Your mother is a angry shrew who hates everything; what does her opinion matter? I think you’re gorgeous.”

You looked up at his sweet brown eyes, looking down at you with no deception or guile, and your heart thumped harder.

“You mean it?” You asked him in a hushed whisper. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Yes,” He said simply.

You didn’t even think about it. You lifted your head and kissed him. He kissed you back enthusiastically. He wasted no time in touching you; your stomach, your hips, your breasts. He slowly drew the underdress up and over your head, leaving you nude in the bed. He pulled the covers down so that he could look at your body.

He got up and pulled off his trousers, his member already fully erect. It was black and speckled, like his shoulders. If it weren’t for the size of it, you’d have called it cute.

He got back into the bed and knelt between your knees, his cock bobbing and pulsing as he soaked in the sight of you. You were doing the same to him, greatly admiring his hard, well-defined, multi-colored body.

He put his hands under your knees and pulled them up and apart, staring hungrily at what lay between. He lay kisses up your thighs, alternating with each one, until he reached that place that ached with want.

His tongue came out and pressed itself to your slit, and it was still. It didn’t move. You moaned in both pleasure and anticipation, but he pulled away.

“Hey!”

He crawled up your body and smirked at you. “No one has ever told you what to do, have they?”

“Besides my mother? No. But I don’t listen to her.”

“Would you listen to me?” He asked.

“What do you have in mind?” You replied curiously.

His smirk widened and he lay on his back with his hands behind his head. “Why don’t you take care of me the first?”

You got up and took his length in you hand. His body jerked at the first touch and he grunted, but he relaxed as you pumped him slowly. You bent your head and licked the flat head, and he grunted again.

He was as apparently as impatient as you were. He put his hand in your hair and gently pushed your head down, and you sucked him into your mouth. He was too big to take him all in, so you used both hands to massage the rest. He kept his hand on your head and applied gentle pressure on it as you sucked. He groaned and grunted, making you wetter.

He pulled your hair up a little to signal you to stop. He then pounced on you, flipping you on your stomach and laying you flat against the bed. He kissed down your back and ran his hands over your bottom, spreading your legs as wide open as he could with you in this position. He stuck one of his large fingers inside you, and you gasped.

“Mmm,” He purred. “You’re just right.”

“I can’t wait, please,” You begged. “Please, Wrykas.”

“A princess begging?” He said, and you heard a smile in his voice. “I think I like that. Do it again.”

“Please, Wrykas, please, please,” You said, over and over. You felt him nudge your entrance, and your begging increase in pitch and frequency. He pushed himself inside slowly, and you cried out, gripping the sheets.

“Say thank you,” He purred into your ear as he began to move inside you.

“Thank you, Wrykas,” You breathed.

“Louder,” He said.

“Thank you, Wrykas!”

He began to move faster, putting his hands over yours and gripping them as he did. He lay his head next to yours so you could hear his heavy breathing and moans. Gods, it was hot.

You cried out loudly, and the put one of his hands over your mouth, muffling you. You were right next to his large ears, and your shrill cried of pleasure were likely painful.

He sped up, and your screams of pleasure increased. You could feel yourself riding up to that peak, feeling your body tense as the wall of ecstasy, crying out against his hand.

His grunts got faster more intense, and you could feel from his pulsating inside you that he was close too. Your legs began to tremble as the wave crashed over you. He kept up the pace as your pleasure ebbed, then abruptly pulled out and released all over your bottom and back, snorting and grunting and bellowing.

He collapsed forward, braced on his hands so he didn’t fall in to the mess he’d made, and huffed to get his breath back. You felt the warmth drift across your back every time he exhaled, and it made your spine tingle.

“You alright?” You asked him breathlessly.

He laughed and kissed your shoulder. “I’m lovely.” You felt him raise up and slide off the bed. “Wait there, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You opened on eye and watched him walk naked to the pot of washing water that you kept close to the fire so that it would stay warm and dunked a rag into it. He rung it out and brought it back, and you admired the view as he did with a side smile.

Once he’d cleaned you, and wiped himself off as well, he got back into the bed and pulled you against him. He kissed your face until you fell asleep.

You passed the next few days of the storm in bed, blissfully wrapped up in the best lovemaking of your life. He took control, and to your surprise, you loved it. You loved being told what to do during sex. You loved following his commands. It was thrilling.

Eventually, the storm began to die down, and your spirits started to dampen.

Wrykas noticed. “What’s the matter?”

“When the storm blows over, I have to go back,” You said sadly, laying your head back against his chest.

He put his arms around you and lay his cheek on the top of your head.

“Have you ever considered running away?” He asked you.

“Run away?” You asked in return, swiveling to look at him in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Leave. Go somewhere else. Another kingdom. My parent’s farm is in Farrowville, you could go there. They’d take care of you.”

You looked at him in shock. “You want me to live with you?”

“Not with me, I don’t live there,” He said. “I actually don’t have any sort of permanent residence, but I visit them often between jobs. They’re very loving people. They’d take good care of you.”

“You’re serious,” You said. “You’re really talking about running.”

“Why not?” He asked. “It’s clear your parents don’t value you. Hell, it shouldn’t be so easy to steal you away twice a year. They haven’t strengthened their guards or made arrangements for your protection. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were behind your abductions, maybe even made some kind of deal with the opposite kingdom disguised as a political dispute, just to get you out of their sight for a while.”

Your head rocked back at the thought. It had never occurred to you before, but now that he had said it out loud, it made perfect sense. Wow. They really did hate you, didn’t they?

“You’re sure your family won’t mind taking me in?” You asked, suddenly nervous about the prospect of a whole new life.

“Not at all. They really are wonderful people.” He sighed with a smile on his face. “I love my family, just not the way they live. I just wasn’t born to be a farmer.”

You smiled at his smile, as gentle as it was.

“The house is rather small, and they will expect you to earn your keep, but their not harsh or cruel. I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“I’m not worried about the work…” You said slowly, looking around the chalet. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” He said, taking your hand. “You’ll be with kind people who will care for you, and I’ll see you all the time.”

“Is that something you want?” You asked him playfully.

He smirked wryly and kissed you hard. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

You bit your lip. “Yes, I will.”

“That’s my princess. Say yes.”

You smiled and pressed your face into his shoulder. “Yes.”

Three months passed with Wrykas’s family, and it was the happiest you’d ever been. Wrykas’s parents were just as kind and loving as he told you they’d be, and his brothers were proper country gentlemen, always asking if you needed help or if there was anything they could do for you.

Wrykas visited at least once a week, usually bring back coin or furs or other spoils from his work. Sometime back, he had gone to inform Ethan and his gang what had happened, so every so often he came back with gifts and trinkets from your boys. You missed them, but you were finally happy.

Then, Wrykas showed up at the farm with Ethan and the gang in tow. you were immediately alarmed.

“What’s going on?” You asked, dropping the hoe you were using. “What’s happened?”

“Your parents have been deposed,” Wrykas said. “They’ve been sent into exile. Most of the people in your kingdom believe you dead, so there was an uprising. They felt that since the crown couldn’t protect you, how could they possibly protect the people.”

“That’s great news!” You exclaimed, but Ethan stopped you.

“There’s also bad news. With your parents gone, there’s a power vacuum that other members of your extended family are trying to fill. You’re the heir. If you went back, you could take the throne. Your right to it is beyond contest.”

“That’s true,” You said, rubbing your chin. “I could finally end these petty laws my parents put into place and get the country back on track.” You slapped Ethan on the arm. “You and your gang still want to be my Queen’s guard?”

Ethan blinked at you. “You were serious about that?”

“Hell yes, I was serious. You and the boys and your families will all move into the castle and replace all the up-tight, snooty ladies-in-waiting my mother appointed for me. You in?”

Ethan looked to the lads, who all grinned excitedly. “We’re in, lass. We’re with you all the way.”

You looked up at Wrykas, kissed him, and smirked. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” He asked quizzically.

“Remember when we first met and you said you wanted more from life?”

He smiled, still a little confused. “Yeah.”

“How does ‘prince’ sound to you?” You asked with a big smile.

His face split into a wide grin. “Sounds like something I was born to do.”

“Good,” You said, putting your arms around his neck. “Then let’s get to our coronation.”

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

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Role Reversal (Tony Pines) - Pt. 3

Y’all.  It’s been dang near a year since I’ve written anything, but i couldn’t quit this.  So here is part 3 of 4.

In which Tony dives back into old bad habits and Peter gets pissed.

Part 1

Part 2

ao3

My angsty Spotify playlist I listened to while writing this

______________________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, Tony groaned as he mustered the energy to fumble up to a seated position at the edge of his bed. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He heaved a sigh before pushing himself to his feet and stumbling to the bathroom. “Friday, what is Peter doing?” he questioned, absently rubbing at his aching back. 

“Mr. Parker is currently making lunch in the kitchen,” Friday responded dutifully. Tony noted this, figuring if he got his shit together quickly, he’d be able to leave out the back and avoid him. 

He was brushing his teeth when he dimly heard the door to his suite opening. Thinking more quickly than he would have thought possible in his current state, he mumbled incoherently through the toothpaste foam in his mouth for Friday to turn on the shower. She was able to correctly interpret and follow his command as Tony grumbled resentfully about how Jarvis would have known to warn him that Peter was coming to his room. 

As he’d hoped, the sound of the shower running kept Peter from inquiring after him, instead calling loudly through the door, “Hey Mr. Stark, I made lunch and thought you might be hungry so I brought you some. I guess I’ll just, um, leave it out here.”

Tony, standing near the door, heard Peter hesitate for a long moment, probably waiting for a response, before he finally turned around and his footsteps faded in the distance. His forehead thumped against the closed bathroom door and he released a deep breath when he heard his outer door close again. 

Figuring he should go ahead and take advantage of the currently running shower, Tony quickly undressed and went through the motions. As he finished, he briefly considered packing a bag but immediately dismissed the idea. He only had to be gone for the weekend and it wasn’t like he couldn’t just buy whatever he needed. And he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. 

When he opened the door, his gaze caught on the grilled cheese sandwich sitting on a paper plate (where had he even found paper plates?) with a side of carrots and celery sticks and a large glass of water. His heart squeezed in his chest and his eyes clenched shut at the simple but kind gesture, so like Peter. 

He stood over the plate for a minute before finally grabbing the sandwich and shoving it in his mouth as he made his way out. 

“Alright Fri, now what is Peter doing? And just so I’m explicit here, the goal is to  avoid him , so you maybe wanna help me out a bit?” Tony bit out before leaving his suite. 

“Yes, sir. Mr. Parker is currently eating in the kitchen but will be finishing up soon.” Friday responded. At least one good side of effect of the less intuitive AI was that she wasn’t going to ask needling questions and tell Tony he was being ridiculous. Small victories. 

After successfully sneaking to the hangar, he aborted his original plan to take the jet since Peter would need that to get home. Guess he’d have to settle for a road trip. 

.

Several hours later found Tony at a casino in Atlantic City. 

The money, the new clothes, and the fawning admiration of faceless men and women didn’t seem to hold the same appeal as they did fifteen years ago. 

But hey, booze is booze at least, which helped smooth the way. 

By midnight, he’d ignored four calls from Peter. He’d also drank enough to convince himself he didn’t care. If it was actually an emergency, Friday would let him know. Not that he was in any shape to do anything about it if there was one, except as a barely functioning phone tree.

The cheering around him implied that he’d just won big, which earned him a large pair of breasts pressed close to his side.  He glanced over to see a big grin, long lashes framing caramel-colored eyes, and unruly brown curls. He could work with that.  He swept his arms around her and she melted into his embrace with a giggle.

By the time he and the brunette bombshell had retired to his room, Tony had ignored yet another two calls from Peter.  He heard the text tone trill as he fell onto the plush hotel mattress with his new friend. He ignored it in favor of paying special attention to the long, pale neck beneath his lips.  It remained silent for the next 30 minutes that he was conscious before passing out.

.

Tony opened his eyes and struggled to focus on the strange ceiling above him, wondering what had woken him because he sure as hell didn’t just wake up naturally.  He looked around blearily, gaze falling on the bare back and messy hair two feet away from him in bed. Didn’t look like she was inclined to be up and about either.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a low groan, hands scrubbing down his face.  As his hands fell away, his eyes focused on the rest of the room and he shot upright, nearly calling one of his gauntlets into being when he noticed a figure standing at the foot of the bed.

“What the everloving fuck?” he shouted hoarsely, belatedly recognizing the intruder as one Peter Parker.

“You know, it would have been shockingly easy to kill you in the past ten minutes that I’ve been trying to wake you if that’s what you were concerned about,” Peter said casually, hands burrowing into the pockets of his jeans.

Tony threw a glare in his direction as he flopped back onto the bed and pulled a pillow on top of his head.   If I can’t see you, you can’t see me , he thought childishly.

Unfortunately, his disappearing act was lost on Peter.  “Care to tell me what was so urgent that you suddenly had to disappear without notice and ignore all my calls?”

Tony shrugged.  “Was bored. Care to tell me why the hell you’re here?” he muttered into the mattress.

“I would have, if you’d answered my calls.  Or at least read my texts.” Peter’s voice was deceptively mild, despite the topic at hand.

“Didn’t notice.  Who even knows where my phone’s been all night?”  Tony said with feigned nonchalance even as his heart continued to pound.

There was a rustling of fabric as Peter said, “Right here, in your pants pocket, which I assume you had on your person until fairly recently since you are spectacularly drunk, which was probably accomplished by a long bout of partying before falling into bed with this respectable young lady.”

Tony turned to said respectable young lady, who had been roused by the conversation, and gave her a strained smile.  “Hey sweetheart, would you mind giving us a minute?” He noticed Peter’s face spasm briefly at this request, but the woman quickly gathered her clothes and left.

Tony sighed again as he flipped back over to stare at the ceiling.  “And how do you know that I’m ‘spectacularly drunk,’ Mr. Parker?” he inquired, forming lazy air quotes.

“Friday told me,” Peter said simply.

“Snitch bitch,” Tony mumbled, before the implication sank in.  “Wait, why would she tell you? I told her to ice you out,” he admitted unthinkingly.

Peter’s casual facade cracked a bit at this, his lips thinning almost to the point of disappearing.  “Nice. Very mature of you, Mr. Stark.” He shook his head to himself before answering the question. “I’ve reestablished some of her dormant protocols.”

“And who the hell gave you that authority?”

“It’s for your own safety and you had previously established them, so it was pretty easy to work around the permissions issue.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “But those protocols shouldn’t work without the BAC chip, which I distinctly remember...removing.”

“Yeah, well I un-removed it, in a spot that you won’t be able to access without some assistance, which your AIs are forbidden to provide.”

“And when was this?”

“Less than 24 hours ago, when you were, yet again, passed out drunk.”  Noticing Tony’s indignant expression that surely preceded some snarky comment, Peter continued.  “Hey, if you don’t like it, there’s an easy solution - quit drinking so damn much that you are semi-permanently in a vulnerable, easily-manipulated state.  I thought you were some kind of control freak,” Peter said with a shrug. Though his voice was still mild, his eyes were flinty and cold with fury, knowing he was hitting where it hurt.

“So you want me to just sit around watching a couple of stupid, necking college boys all weekend?” Tony lashed out with a scoff, throwing Peter’s words from the day before right back at him.  “I’ve got better things to do, kid.”

Tony’s heart seized when he saw Peter’s eyes shutter and his jaw clench tight.  “Well then you could have just said something, you know that. Don’t try to blame this on me - I gave you every opportunity to get rid of me.”

Tony’s eyes slammed shut for a long moment.  How ready Peter was to believe that was what he wanted.

When Tony continued to remain silent, Peter tsked.  “So this is your something better to do? Acting like you’re still 21?  Pretending this makes you feel better?”

Tony folded his arms under his head in a gesture of careless ease.  “Who says I’m pretending?”

“Well if that’s true, you’re even more screwed up than I thought,” Peter said quietly.

Kid, you have no idea , Tony thought.

After another long, tense silence, Tony finally said, “So this is why you came here?  To scold me?”

“Yes Tony, that’s exactly why I came all the way here and scaled 40 stories on the outside of a building, to scold you.”  He shook his head again in frustration. “Whatever. Go back to all your ‘fun.’ Just...please be careful. And come home soon.  I’ll be leaving as soon as I get my things when I get back, so you don’t have to worry about dealing with me.”

By the time Tony dredged up the courage to drag his gaze back up, Peter was gone.  He felt like his rib cage might just cave in under the weight of his guilt.

It only got worse when he realized that was the first time Peter had ever called him by his name.

.

Tony wallowed in self pity for another hour before rolling out of bed with a sigh. Peter was right - this wasn’t making him feel any better, so there really wasn’t a point in sticking around. He’d be more comfortable wallowing in the comfort of his own home. 

He noticed that his watch was missing after he’d finished packing. Probably stolen by that woman. Figures. At least it wasn’t one of his nano particle housings. 

His phone rang as he was driving back.

"Rhodey, baby, talk to me!  Tell me something good."

"Wanna tell me why the tabloids are blowing up about the playboy persona making an explosive reappearance in Atlantic City last night?" Rhodey asked dryly.

"You know, just had to get out for a while, feel the smoky casino breeze in my hair," Tony replied blithely.

"Mmhmm.  Right.  And the, completely unrelated I'm sure, sighting of SpiderMan scaling the very same building?"

Tony grunted.  "It would appear that I am surrounded by people who care so much about me that I can't get a single moment to myself."

"What an awful problem to have," Rhodey drawled.

When Tony didn't respond, Rhodey continued.  "So, how is that, uh, situation going?"

"What? My apparently very public backslide into bad habits isn't answer enough?" Sarcasm, the one coping mechanism that hadn't failed him yet.

Rhodey's deep sigh gusted loudly through the car's speakers.  "Tony, seriously - do you want me to come down there?  We can just take a break from everything, hang out and eat a lot of food and watch bad TV.  I'll even let you go all mad scientist on my legs like you've been wanting lately."

Tony seriously considered it before shaking his head.  "No, I think I need to work through this on my own for a while," he said seriously.  "And you need to spend time with your new bae." ("Oh my God, please do not call her that.") "I will definitely be taking you up on the offer to work on those atrociously outdated things you call legs though."

He could hear Rhodey's eyes rolling through the phone, he knew it.  "Yeah, okay, we'll see about that.  What are you doing now, anyway?  Still in Jersey?"

"For the next..." Tony checked his location. "...15 minutes, yep.  Currently on the way back home."

"You realize that you're finally too old for all that shit?"

"Ouch, Rhodey bear.  I mean, yes, but still.  Can't you be a bit more gentle?  My ancient, brittle soul can't handle the abuse," Tony pouted.

Rhodey chuckled.  "We both know tough love is your love language.  For real though, if you need anything then just give me a call - I'll be there for you as soon as you admit you need me."

Tony felt his chest loosen and his heart warm as a soft smile stole across his face.  "Of course, dear heart.  Now off with you so that I can drive to sad songs and wallow in peace, damn it."

"Wouldn't want to stand in the way of that.  Hey, I love you, man," Rhodey said.

"Love you too, buddy," Tony responded before ending the call and feeling that warmth slowly fade away into the dark void behind his heart.

.

When he arrived back at the compound, he sat in his car in the garage, hands wrapped white-knuckle tight around the steering wheel as he took deep breaths. 

“Hey Fri, the kid still here?” 

“No, sir. Mr. Parker exited the premises 43 minutes ago.  His guest left several hours before that.” 

Tony blew out his breath in a noisy gust. He’d eventually have to talk to Peter about what happened, clear up the misunderstanding that he didn’t want him around. But that felt like a Herculean task at the moment, too much to even think about. Luckily, Tony Stark was a pro at avoidance. 

Instead, he chose to focus on how the hell Peter had reactivated the dormant S.L.I.P protocol.

Once he got back to his room, he flopped backwards on the bed, calling out, “Friday, play back what the hell Parker’s been doing this weekend, starting with the most recent activity.”

A holoscreen appeared in front of him, showing Peter sitting on his bed looking miserable.  Tony quickly swiped it away, ignoring the sharp pang in his chest. “Let’s respect at least a little bit of privacy, yeah?  Only show me when he’s in a common area or one of my areas.”

Without further comment, Friday brought up another clip, projecting Peter and Harry mid conversation in the kitchen. 

“Why do you let Tony treat you like that?” Harry was asking, sounding irritated as he peeled a sticker off an apple.

“Treat me like what?” Peter responded absently, looking through the fridge. 

“Like you’re...his pet or something. It’s weird,” Harry said, his lip curling. 

Peter shut the fridge and turned towards Harry. “Excuse me, what?”

“Oh come on. Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed.”  Harry rolled his eyes and took a bite of his apple before continuing.  “The pet names, the way he spoils you, the touching - good God, the touching. It’s damn near inappropriate.”

Peter was gaping. “He’s my mentor and we’ve...been through a lot together. There’s nothing inappropriate about it at all!” 

Tony stroked his reconstructed breastbone to try to ease the pressure building behind it as he felt the burn of shame roiling in his gut. 

Harry snorted. “Peter. You can’t be serious. He’s constantly looking at me like I stole something from him, like he’s challenging me.”

“Well he doesn’t like you. And frankly, at this moment, I don’t exactly blame him,” Peter shot back with a glare. 

“Of course you wouldn’t. When would you ever blame your precious Tony Stark?”

“What does it even matter to you?  Are you jealous or something?”

“Of course I’m jealous,” Harry scoffed.  “I really like you, Peter. And it sucks knowing that with a snap of his fingers, he could take you away from me.”

“It’s really not like that,” Peter insisted desperately.  “I just...it’s hard to explain. But it’s not like that, I swear.”

“But if it could be, if he decided he wanted you like that, would you say no?”

“I- I- I mean, he’s got some issues and he’s maybe not the, uh, poster child for healthy relationships, but he doesn’t want me like that.  I’m just a kid to him, his protege.” Tony winced. At least he’d managed to fool one person.

Harry smiled sadly.  “You never said no, Peter.”

“Of course I’d say no- I mean what are the odds anyway?  And honestly I’ve never really thought about it, like that’s so crazy, and…” Peter trailed off as he quickly turned back to the fridge, rummaging aimlessly.  “Man, I really am starving. You want something? There’s, uh, strawberries, leftover pizza, stuff for some...really gross smoothies, and-”

“Peter,” Harry broke in, cutting across his nervous rambling.  “If you had to choose between me and him, who would you choose?”

Peter finally stopped even pretending like he was doing anything else.  “You know, that’s a really shitty thing to ask. Why should I ever have to choose?  You and he fill completely different roles in my life. And if you’re going to ask me to make an ultimatum like that, then that makes the choice pretty damn easy.”

Harry sighed roughly.  “Fine, you’re right, that wasn’t cool.  And if I really believed that we fulfilled completely different roles in your life then maybe this wouldn’t be such a big deal, but I don’t think that’s really true.  I feel like he’s your primary relationship - you’re just using me to fill in the gaps.”

“Come on, Harry, that’s not true.  You’re not like a replacement or anything, I really do care about you.”

“I know you do, Peter.  But can you honestly tell me that if Stark wanted to be in a romantic relationship with you, that he wanted to step into that final remaining role as well, that you wouldn’t say yes?”

Tony moved to close the feed, not needing to hear Peter’s immediate rejection.  He may be a bit of a masochist, but even he had his limits. Or so he thought. But as the silence continued for a long awkward moment, he found he couldn’t close it, waiting with baited breath. 

Peter blinked, mouth opening and closing several times.  “I- I- uh….” Tony’s blood was singing through his veins, his heart pounding louder in his ears the longer there was no ‘no’.  God, he should not be listening to this. This was actually probably worse than the rejection he’d been anticipating. That demon inside was writhing in his belly, heating him up from the inside out, ready to devour that sweet boy. 

Harry’s hands balled into fists and the muscle in his jaw tightened and jumped before he blew out a long breath, shoulders slumping with released tension.  “I think that’s answer enough.”

Peter scrambled over to Harry, grabbing one of his hands in both of his.  “What does that mean? Are you breaking up with me? Because I can’t give you an immediate answer to some crazy, hypothetical situation that has zero chance of happening?  That’s not fair,” he said earnestly.

“Not fair?  Peter, I expect that the person I’m dating would have a pretty immediate answer ready when asking if they would drop me for someone else if they became an option.  Anything less than a definite ‘no’ isn’t fair to  me .  I deserve more than that!”

Peter’s gaze dropped and his cheeks flushed.  “Of course, you’re right. I’m-” Peter’s text alert went off and he froze momentarily before forcing himself to relax.  

Harry’s eyes narrowed.  “It’s been him you’ve been texting and calling all night, isn’t it?  Not Ned like you said?”

“Not exactly,” Peter hedged.

Harry wrenched his hand back.  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he muttered.

“No, I’m sorry, I just- it’s...hard to explain,” Peter finished lamely, sounding like a broken record.  Tony’s heart ached as he watched Peter’s conflicted expression, knowing Peter was keeping quiet for his sake, hiding the notifications of Tony's drunken escapades.

“Of course it is.  Well here’s something that’s easy to explain - let’s take a break.  You can figure out what the hell it is you want then maybe we can talk about it.  I don’t even know,” Harry said, shaking his head.  

“No, Harry, please-” Peter started, but Harry held up a hand to cut him off.

“Not right now, Peter, please.  I just, I need some time to myself.  I’m going to call an Uber and head out.”

“You don’t need to do that - the jet is big enough to have your own space, I won’t bother you.  We can pack up and head out now.”

Harry looked at him for a few long moments before replying.  “I’d actually rather not ride in Stark’s plane right now.” Peter reached out and grabbed his arm.  

“Harry, I really am sorry,” he murmured.

“Do you even know what for?” Harry asked quietly.

Peter was silent for a beat too long.  Harry pulled away and continued down the hall to pack up.

Peter crashed down onto his elbows on the counter, gripping his hair harshly.  “Way to go, Parker.”

Tony watched him wallow for a few minutes before checking his phone.  Peter started pacing back and forth then stopped abruptly as he apparently came to a decision and headed purposefully out of the room.  Looking at the time stamp, he’d probably just decided to come after Tony.

Tony paused the footage with a sigh, his self-righteous anger sufficiently doused.  He was surprisingly unhappy with this turn of events, despite it being exactly what he’d hoped for.  He’d wanted Peter to get rid of that guy, but not at Peter’s expense. And essentially by Tony’s own hand.  He had underestimated his ability to fuck up other peoples’ lives indirectly.

Well, he still wanted answers.  “Alright Fri, let’s work our way back.  Next clip.”

He only halfway paid attention as he skimmed through several more videos of Peter in the last 24 hours, his mind racing as he considered the conversation he’d overheard.  This was exactly the kind of information he did  not  need to have.  He could feel a yawning pit of greedy longing open in his core, warring with the despair in his heart at the thought of how he would inevitably destroy Peter’s life.  He knew it was only a matter of time now before he gobbled up Peter completely, leaving him nothing that wasn’t stamped over with Tony Stark’s name.

His attention snapped back as he noticed Peter in the lab by himself the previous night.  He wondered what excuse he’d given Harry.

“Volume up, Friday.”

Peter was talking to Friday in the lab.  “Hey Friday, how are you tonight?”

“Quite well, Peter, thank you.  And you?” the AI responded politely.

Peter’s smile was twisted and wry.  “Been better, a little stressed out.  Worried about Mr. Stark.”

“I see.  Is there anything I can do to help?” Friday asked.

“Maybe?  Didn’t Mr. Stark used to have some kind of protocol in place to help with his drinking?  What ever happened to that?”

“Yes, the S.L.I.P. protocol, standing for Sobriety Lost Its Priority.  It is designed to call emergency contacts when Mr. Stark’s drinking has surpassed casual social levels.  It requires the presence of a subdermal BAC chip in order to be activated, which Mr. Stark has removed.” Friday dutifully reported.  Traitor, Tony thought, glaring at the screen.

Squinting in thought, Peter asked, “So do you think you could make me another one?  And set me as his emergency contact? I promise not to interfere unless I really think he’s in trouble.”

Friday was quiet for a moment before replying, “Yes.  Since you have unlimited lab access and appear to have the boss’s best interests at heart, I believe this falls under the ‘For Your Own Damn Good’ protocol.”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed with an excited fist pump.

Tony continued to watch with a mounting sense of betrayal as Friday manufactured the chip then explained to Peter how to insert it.  “What the hell? How did something I created with my own two hands and all the love in my shriveled little heart become such a backstabbing bitch?”

“As I told Mr. Parker, I believed this fell under the-”

“Shut it, Johnny 5.  Not interested.”

As Peter finished plotting with his AI, it occurred to Tony that he’d missed something.  “Hold the phone. When did he insert the damn chip? How did I miss this?”

He quickly scanned the subsequent footage, watching Peter’s interactions with him more closely.  There. When Peter had come to check on him in the morning and found him dead to the world in his living quarters.  He’d kind of averted his eyes and skipped past the part where Peter looked epically disappointed before picking him up and putting him in bed. He forced himself to watch through it now.

“That sneaky little shit,” Tony muttered, watching Peter inject the chip in the middle of Tony’s back before settling him under the covers.  That explained the soreness in his back that morning.  Well, probably a combination of that and drunken slouching, who knows.  He paused in the middle of dismissing the holoscreen when he noticed Peter hesitate by his bedside before running his fingers tenderly through Tony’s hair, a pained expression on his face.  

“I’m sorry, Tony,” he whispered.

His mouth dry, Tony ran his own fingers through his hair, pretending he could remember how it felt.  For as much as Tony touched Peter, it was rare for Peter to do the same outside of hugs.  

The touch combined with the intense care and attention focused on him made Tony’s head spin, just from watching it secondhand.  It was almost enough to make him want to kick the drink again, just so he wouldn’t miss something like this again.

As he finally dismissed the holoscreen, he went to stand only to realize that he was hard.  God, he was messed up. But honestly, was anyone even surprised at this point?

_______________________________________________________________________

So uh, yeah, since it’s been so damn long, I don’t even know if anyone is still interested or still in the fandom or what, but here are the people that requested to be tagged previously - let me know if you’d like to be tagged again!

Part 4

Taglist: @xarles56 @schaefchenherde

[poedamern]

You’re my Joy. ⏤ Jasmine x Female Reader

PAIRING: Jasmine x Handmaiden!Female Reader / LENGTH: 2.1k / DISCLAIMER: Gif is not mine! NOTE: i’m so happy you requested this! #HAPPYPRIDEMONTH / SUMMARY: aladdin AU where aladdin and jasmine meet all the same but have become really good friends who go on secret adventures together instead of becoming lovers, due to jasmine falling in love with her handmaiden. jasmine still desires to be sultan as the princess but makes ground on becoming one with each and every day. / WARNINGS: bi vibes all round! jealousy, a lil angst, comedy and fluff for the heart. also mild nudity. (sorry!)

The way her hair fell down her back, the stylish outfits she wore, her friendly aura and how soft her hands were against Jasmine’s neck whenever she took off her royal jewellery for the night. Jasmine always felt small sparks lighting against her skin and the smallest of touches. It was ridiculous, truly, Jasmine would have never imagined she would feel this way about one of her handmaidens but she did, deeply and unconditionally.

“How does that feel?” Y/N asks, making sure to store away the jewels back in their safe boxes before undoing the clasp tied in the back of Jasmine’s hair, letting it fall comfortably over her shoulders. “Perfect.” Jasmine smiles softly, grabbing onto Y/N’s hands, squeezing them lightly. “What would I do without you?” She asks, sighing softly. “You’d be getting into all sorts of trouble and we both know that. Even Dalia knows that.” Y/N laughs, turning to fetch some tea for the princess. “Dalia can be very brash in her responses, though, we’re used to it of course.” Jasmine teases, running a hand on top of Rajah’s head as he makes his way to Jasmine’s side, never too far. It has been a long day for all of them, several meetings with cities across the way, debates on poverty, the wellbeing of Agrabah with her father and Jafar’s antics. She was just so happy she could be alone with those closest to her at the end of the day.

“Dalia’s honesty will always be cherished.” Y/N chuckles, heating the tea to it’s proper temperature, remembering exactly how Jasmine likes it, different temperatures for morning and night. As much as Y/N was a handmaiden to Jasmine, taking care of all her needs and wishes, she was more than that. A great friend but to Jasmine, she wished for more.

“Princess? Handmaiden?” You both hear a familiar voice come from the Princess’s balcony, turning to look in the direction of the sound, giving each other a look of speculation as to who it could be. Rajah is the first to make his way over, sniffing the air, ears flicking before taking a seat in the middle of the balcony as a figure climbs over the railing. “Aladdin!” Jasmine yells, ready to scold the street rat for yet again breaking in to the palace. Aladdin falls over the other side of the railing in reaction, causing Y/N to laugh. “Jasmine, you don’t want the guards to hear right?” – “Yeah Jasmine, We’ve been through this almost several times now, it’s practically routine now.” Aladdin jumps up from his spot and gives some welcoming pats to Rajah, who purrs contently in return, tail swaying from side to side.

Jasmine rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “So now you two are ganging up on me are you? My own handmaiden and the street rat?” Walking down the balcony steps she checks the surrounding area for any guards on watch, some had gotten word of thieves breaking into the palace but for Aladdin’s safety, she always denied the claims. “And how exactly is your handmaiden doing?” Aladdin asks, bowing in both of your directions. Y/N smiles as Aladdin takes her hand and gives it a light kiss, playful and endearing. Jasmine tries her hardest not to scowl at the act. “Just fine, without you.” Jasmine retorts, as if it’s matter of fact.

“Though, I don’t mind the occasional visits, right Jasmine? We can always use an extra friend or two around.” Y/N says, ruffling Aladdin’s hair in a teasing manner. Rajah grunts in response. “Of course you’re always first pick Rajah, you know that. Spoilt little thing.” Y/N goes over to rub his furry cheeks together. “Little? Has she lost her mind?” Aladdin jokes, taking a seat up on the balcony railing. Jasmine laughs softly under her breath, admiring the way Y/N interacts with Rajah. “No, just in a world of her own.” – “Oh, where’s Abu?” Y/N perks up, curious to find the smaller animal. Aladdin looks surprised and turns to look for him. “He was right behind me– Oh Abu!” He jumps off the balcony and towards Y/N, moving her dress to the side to see him hiding in the fabric. “What are you doing there?” Aladdin scolds Abu. Abu shrugs with his characteristic chirp before jumping up on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Well hello to you too Abu. You better have not stolen anything Abu, here I was thinking Aladdin was the cheeky one.” Y/N teased, bringing her finger up to scratch under Abu’s chin. Aladdin laughs and rubs the back of his neck, slightly flustered. “Well– I do take after Abu just a little bit. But this one likes to cause a whole lot more trouble.” He points an accusing finger at Abu. Jasmine watches from the small ottoman she sits on, Rajah now by her side once again. Y/N and Aladdin so deep in their own conversation she feels like a witness to it all, a strange sense of anger rising in her chest. Was this jealousy? How was it that they got along so well but she struggled just to say the right things around Y/N? She’d blame her upbringing and not being able to socialise like a normal citizen but– she had all the chances to learn. Nothing was scarier than facing her true emotions.

It hurt to see their chemistry grow each time they got to see each other, she couldn’t take another moment of it. Standing from her place, Rajah purrs curiously, concerned for his master as she walked back to her chambers. “Is there something you need, Princess Jasmine?” Y/N asks, worry written across her face. “No. You’ve done enough.” Jasmine tries to say with indifference but it comes out colder than expected. She flinches at her own tone but makes her way to the bath, leaving Y/N and Aladdin to their own devices. “Jasmine, wait–” Aladdin tries to talk to her but it’s too late. He exhales, disappointed he didn’t get the chance to talk to her more. “Do you think she’s okay?” He asks. “I think she’s just had a long day. I’m sorry Aladdin. Is there something you would like me to send on to her?” Y/N takes his hand, apologetic. “No, I’ll be back tomorrow night– By then I can tell her my plans for our next adventure.” His wide charming smile back like nothing ever happened. “Make sure Jasmine rests well and that you take good care of her okay? For all of us. For all of Agrabah.” Aladdin waves goodbye, slipping back over the balcony railing. “See you tomorrow, street rat.” Y/N teased, watching as the boy jumped down and over, Abu following close behind. “Let’s go Rajah, we have a Princess to care for.” Y/N says with a new sense of determination, Rajah following closely behind.

-

Jasmine never usually sets up the bath, hasn’t done so in years, but after minutes of figuring out what oils, essences and soaps to put in the bath, she was soon surrounded by comforting bubbles, the hot water soothing her jealous feelings. “Oh, Princess Jasmine?” Y/N sing-songs, Jasmine watching as her shadowed figure walked across the bath screen. “Yes handmaiden?” She responds, not using her name. “Do you need any assistance?” – “No, no. I am perfectly capable of taking a bath.” Jasmine hears Y/N giggle from behind the screen, even her figure through the layer of drapes was beautiful, graceful. “Well the smell of spearmint and thyme tell me otherwise princess, you know thyme is your morning routine and lavender is your night.” Y/N says as she walks into the bathroom without warning. Jasmine tenses and looks away, bashful. “I–I guess it slipped my mind.” Jasmine stutters, Y/N had seen Jasmine naked on several occasions due to hygiene and general health care but she never got used to Y/N’s eyes on her body.

Rolling her sleeves up, Y/N takes a seat next to the bathtub, bringing one of the bowls of lavender oil to the edge, pouring it into balance out the thyme. “Thyme can irritate the skin if it’s not poured and warmed correctly with the right carrier oil.” Y/N speaks, although it doesn’t sound like it’s directed right at Jasmine, just more of a fun fact, knowledge to be shared. “Irritation can be caused by other essences too such as spearmint, cinnamon, clove, oregano–” – “Y/N.” Jasmine interrupts, her eyes glued to the side of her handmaiden’s face. Y/N looks up at Jasmine, eyes curious, almost doe like. Jasmine’s heart catches in her throat. “What are your thoughts on Aladdin?” She may be considered petty for thinking such things but she needed to know. “Thoughts?” Y/N tilts her head, slightly confused by the query. “Do you find him– attractive? charming?” Jasmine runs her hands over the water’s surface, watching the bubbles swirl around.

Y/N laughs softly, sounding like a wind chime in a summer’s breeze to Jasmine. “Unlike Dalia, I don’t fawn over many men. I don’t fawn over many people to be truly honest with you. Aladdin is kind, has a good heart.” Jasmine purses her lips at the reply, scared. “But–.” Y/N’s hand slides down her forearm down to her hand, pulling it up above water and rubbing the palm of Jasmine’s hand with experienced technique. “He doesn’t bring the same sort of joy as someone else in my life does.” She states, simple as fact, her face calm and collected. Jasmine looks at her in shock, frowning slightly. “Who brings you that joy?” Jasmine asks, as if it’s the golden secret hiding beneath the cave of wonders. “You. Jasmine.” The name rolls off of Y/N’s lips so elegantly, so poised. “I guess I’m the luckiest handmaiden in all of the country to be able to be by your side, watching you be the strong woman that you are without a care for other’s perceptions of you.” She smiles up at Jasmine, laying her hand back down in the tub.

“Y/N– I–” Jasmine struggles to find the words. Y/N just shakes her head, grabbing a hold of Jasmine’s long thick hair, bringing it back over her shoulders as to not get wet. “Whatever it is you need from me, I will do without question. Please know that.” She goes to stand from her spot next to Jasmine only to be stopped by the grasp of Jasmine’s hand on her wrist. She was right, Jasmine was strong and powerful but she was also determined without shame. Having given her the confidence, Jasmine stands from the bath, hair cascading down her slender back, body now exposed to Y/N as she pulls her closer. Y/N only looks from her wrist up to Jasmine’s face, patiently waiting for her Princess’s words. “Would it be selfish of me, as a Princess, to ask her handmaiden to be accepting of her love?” Jasmine asks in a soft whisper, their faces now only inches away. Y/N’s eyes widen before they glimmer in the reflection of the night light coming through the chambers bathroom stained windows. “Only slightly selfish. But a Princess who is not selfish for her own quality of life is a Princess living in fear.” Y/N answers Jasmine’s question. “I do not wish to live in fear anymore, Y/N.” – “Neither do I.”

The warm touch of Y/N’s breath cascading across Jasmine’s lips as she leans closer is captivating, her eyes slowly closing, welcoming Jasmine into her space. With lips parted, Jasmine leans in and latches her lips onto Y/N’s with a silent hum of contentment. Jasmine can feel Y/N shiver against the touch, her hands coming to rest on her arms. Jasmine brings a hand up to Y/N’s cheek and slightly deepens the kiss, wanting to cherish it, every moment, every second. They stay like that, for a moment’s pass until Y/N pulls back, a flushed look on her face. Jasmine pulls her back, only to press their foreheads together, whispering. “I promise to give you as much joy as you deserve.” – “And I promise to remind you every day of how effortlessly your presence gives me joy.” They chuckle under short breaths. The remainder of the night they stay glued to each others sides, their hearts burning with love and cheeks hurting from smiling so much. Jasmine was ready to face the entire world for Y/N, nothing could stop her– not now, not ever. 

[thenovelartist]

Falling for the Dork, set 8

<<Previous set  Next set>>

25.      Protect

When they had gotten married, Marinette helped out in her parents’ bakery for a little cash. And her parents didn’t mind being able to see their daughter several days a week, either.

Adrien also took on some responsibilities in his father’s company in order to support the two of them. However, when it came to Adrien’s job, he and Marinette—or sometimes, just him—had to occasionally make appearances at parties. And Adrien, being the extremely handsome man who also happened to be the son of a very prominent fashion designer, turned more than just a few heads.

Particularly the heads of young females.

But tonight… tonight Marinette had had enough of it.

“For heaven’s sake,” Adrien snipped, tone more than a little testy. “Will you tell me what’s wrong? Because something is or you wouldn’t be so pissy.”

“You’re clueless; that’s what.”

“We know that. So mind explaining.”

Marinette growled. “You, and the women that always throw themselves at you, and you-you-you just stand there like… like you’re not married or anything, letting them fawn all over you like your wife isn’t across the room watching the whole thing.”

Adrien froze, and Marinette stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Her heart hurt, and with most of the fight drained out of her, she leaned against the door and slid down to the floor. She wouldn’t cry, though. Not with Adrien in the next room.

“Marinette,” he said, his soft voice coming through the door. “Can we talk?”

She didn’t answer.

Adrien sighed. “Will you listen?”

She bit her lip. “What.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like you’re not important to me. Or that you feel like I forget you. Or… I don’t know, whatever you feel when you see me talking to other women. But Marinette, I know you know me better than that. I don’t care about giving those women any more attention than necessary in terms of being polite at the party. Honestly, I want them off my back, too. I know they see me as attractive, and while they may be pretty or kind or whatever, there is only one woman in the world who holds my heart. And I know you know who that is.”

Marinette bit her lip hard, hoping to keep the tears in. They fell silently down her face anyway. She knew his words were true, and in that moment, she felt like an idiot for overreacting.

She slid over to lean against the wall so she could reach up and open the door. She didn’t particularly care to get up off the floor. When the door opened, she realized Adrien had been on the floor, too, leaning against the door.

His eyes met hers, and he crawled over to her side. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around him and letting him pull her into his lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For overreacting.”

“I’m sorry that you felt like you had to,” Adrien said, stroking her hair.

“I do know better,” she responded. “And I trust you. I just… I don’t like it.”

Adrien hummed, pressing a kiss to her head. “You have to know that I only have eyes for you. And I know that a lot of those ladies are just trying to get to me because of what I am. But I can’t just start off every conversation with ‘hey, you need to know I’m married so go away if you’re just going to hit on me.’”

Marinette couldn’t help but huff a laugh.

“There’s my princess,” Adrien said, giving her a squeeze and keeping the smile on her face in the process.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Adrien said. “If you’re ever feeling jealous, tell me, and I’ll show you my ring and ask you to tell me just who put that ring that represents a lifetime of commitment on my finger.”

Marinette grinned. “That’d be me.”

“That’s right,” Adrien said, pressing another kiss in her hair. “And therefore, I have a duty to protect your heart and this marriage against anyone who thinks they can take a piece of it.”

“I love you,” she said, pressing her face into his neck. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Marinette. And only you. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

 26.      Civilian Heroes

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Marinette grumbled

“Come on,” Adrien said, nudging her with his shoulder. “It’s amazing.”

“I mean, all the fanart is cool but… did we have to cosplay?”

Adrien looked down at the black spandex suit he wore, one he had begged Marinette to make for him. After all, the smash hit “Ladybug and Chat Noir” was one of his favorite movies of all time. So, he really didn’t see any better way to spend quality time with his wife—who was a dead ringer for the superheroine—than go to a really cool movie convention dressed up as the spectacular duo. “Yes.”

Grin on her face, she rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Adrien tore his eyes away from his wife at the sound of a small voice. He looked down to see a young boy, probably no older than six, scampering over to them. “I know you can help me. I lost my mommy and daddy.”

It took him off guard a moment, but Marinette was quick to leap into action. “And you need help finding them?”

The boy smiled and nodded. “Yup. You’re Ladybug. I know you can help me find them. You’re the bestest superheroes ever.”

Adrien couldn’t help but grin. The kid had wandered over to them because they were dressed like superheroes he liked. Not that it wasn’t a bit unsettling, but it was also kinda cute. “What’s your name, kiddo?” Adrien asked, kneeling in front of him.

“Thomas.”

“Do you know your last name?” Marinette asked.

“Um…”

Adrien took that as a no. “That’s okay,” he said, catching sight of a security guard wandering through the crowd. “Now, stay with Ladybug, and I’m gonna go look around, okay.”

Thomas beamed. “Okay.”

Adrien grinned, then ruffled the kid’s hair before heading over to the security guard. He briefly told him of the missing child, which the man called in over the radio before following Adrien back to where Marinette was asking Thomas what his mom and dad looked like.

The security guard knelt down before Thomas. “We should go look for your parents.”

“But mommy taught me not to go with strangers,” Thomas whined, looking back at Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Adrien shared a glance with Marinette, who looked somewhat amused with it herself.

“How about this,” Chat Noir said. “I’m gonna put you up on my shoulders, and that way you can look around and try to find your mommy and daddy. Okay?”

The kid looked positively ecstatic at the prospect. “Okay!”

Thomas was pretty light, and Adrien was able to put him up in his shoulders easily. Then, with the security guard beside them, they started wandering through the crowd, trying to find a pair of people that matched the description Marinette gave them.

However, before they could get too far, the security guard’s radio buzzed. “We found the parents.”

They wandered over to the other side of the building, Thomas soon shouting, “Mommy!”

“All right,” Adrien said. “Down you go.” In one smooth motion, he hoisted the kid off his shoulders and onto the ground so that he could run to his mom.

After a sweet little reunion of the worried mom clinging to Thomas, she looked back up at them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Marinette said. “We’re just glad we got him back to you.”

“Thank you, Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Thomas said, waving at them with the hand he wasn’t using to hold his mom’s hand.

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Adrien said, kneeling down again. “Stay close to your mom, all right?”

“Okay.”

With one last wave, Adrien and Marinette turned to head back toward the heart of the festivities. “Cute kid,” Adrien said, slipping his hand in his wife’s.

She nodded. “Really cute. Is it too much to hope that never happens to us, though?”

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. He knew that Marinette wanted kids at some point, but that was the first time that Marinette had specifically eluded to their kids. To them having kids. “We can always hope,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “That’d be enough to give me a heart attack. Maybe we should invest in leashes or something.”

Marinette giggled, but she leaned closer to him. “With you as their father, I think that might be a good idea.”

 27.      Marinette & The Agrestes

“Did you see the headlining article?”

Marinette frowned. “Of what?”

“Of every single fashion gossip rag.”

A smirk slowly crossed her face. “No.”

He dropped the copy of the magazine he was holding on the counter. “You, my darling.”

“What?”

“Yup. Ever since my father took you in as his apprentice, people have been freaking out.”

“Why?” Marinette asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s the big deal about it?”

“People think that my father is playing favorites, which… I may agree, but I don’t particularly care because even though he’s paying extra attention to you, he is making you start at ground level and move up in the company.”

Marinette glanced over the article titled ‘Marinette and the Agrestes’. “Huh,” was all she had to say about it.

Adrien grinned, taking her under his arm and pulling her close. “Did I mention I’m proud of you?”

Marinette grinned. “Maybe once or twice.”

Adrien smirked before pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m proud of you.”

“And you’re okay working for your father’s company?” Marinette asked. “You don’t feel like you’re trapped or you have to or anything, right? Your degree was in science, not business.”

Adrien shrugged. “Work isn’t that bad. I really don’t mind working for my father’s company, particularly since he’s already expressing that he’ll want to hand it over to us one day. I’m more than happy to handle the business side of a company you’ll take over.”

“We’ll take over,” Marinette said. “Only if you want to.”

Adrien smiled. “Princess, I honestly am perfectly fine working for my father. Because one day, I’ll be working for you—rather, with you—and that’s a dream come true. I’ll be the one behind the scenes of the company making sure you can live out your dream.”

“But what about your dream?” Marinette asked.

Adrien sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want me to be completely honest?”

“Yes.”

“I want to be a dad,” he said. “And when the time comes for that to happen, being in this business will allow me to be present in my kids’ lives.”

Marinette blushed.

Adrien felt his own face get hot. “And in the meantime, I’m really enjoying fencing and teaching younger kids in my free time. That’s a lot of fun.”

“I just don’t want your dream to get lost in the midst of this,” Marinette said.

With a growing grin, Adrien reached up to cup Marinette’s cheeks. “I’m happy,” he said. “Really, I am. And I promise I will tell you if I’m unhappy. Okay?”

Marinette’s worried expression gave way to a grin. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (3)

FANDOM - MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Chapter Three - Vernichtung 

Bucky stormed away from the kitchen and from you as fast as his feet could carry him. His chest was heaving and his shoulders were shaking as he tried to contain the rage coursing through him. As soon as you had viciously cut him with your words he had almost lost control for a split second and had slammed his metal fist onto the counter before he could…

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice cut into his anger clouded mind before he could finish the thought.

Bucky paused but didn’t turn around, ragged breaths tearing themselves from his throat as he tried to calm down.

“What was that?” Steve’s voice was low and even and when Bucky ignored him he continued.

“I have never seen her act like that, I’ve never seen heard you say such cruel things either. What the hell happened between you two to cause that?”

Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes and shrugged half heartedly

“I guess being called damaged goods pushed her buttons and she snapped. And people call me unstable.” Bucky snarked.

Steve glared at him and opened his mouth, probably to give a Captain America patented lecture before realization flickered across his face and he frowned.

“That’s not it Buck, I wouldn’t tell her you said that and besides we were together the whole time. She couldn’t have known what you said about her.” Steve’s tone made it clear he was still annoyed about what exactly Buck had said.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed and he half smirked

“Maybe little miss perfect needs to remember she’s not the only one with enhanced hearing.”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed several times before he clenched his jaw, the ramifications of what Bucky was saying sinking in.

“You heard her coming and knew she could hear you. That’s why you said those things. You wanted her to hear them.”

“She needed to hear it Steve, she prances about this place having everybody fawn over her. She’s nothing special, she’s just a failed experiment. She doesn’t deserve special treatment.” Bucky snarled.

“Are you jealous of her? Buck you have me, you have memories of a life before all that. She had nothing. She was born and raised in that damn facility. People fawn over her because its the first and only kindness she’s ever been shown!” Steve’s volume rose as he spoke

“Get your head together and stop treating her so awful. She deserves better, she’s a good person!” Steve pleaded with his oldest friend.

Bucky scoffed in response and walked away

“She’s not a person at all Steve.”

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

Sam raised his fist and knocked on the door as he mulled over the situation with Y/N and Barnes. A couple of seconds passed before the door swung open and he pushed the issues aside for a brief moment so he could spare a heartfelt smile for the red haired spy he had sought out. She responded with a smirk of her own and a raised brow.

“What can I do for you Wilson?” Natasha enquired curiously.

“Need you to help me diffuse a rapidly escalating situation.”

She swung the door open and invited him in with a tilt of her head. Sam made a beeline for the kitchenette and immediately busied himself making coffee. He glanced over to the couch where Natasha was subtly piling up paperwork and files. Noticing him watching she slipped them out of sight.

“Little side project I’m doing for Stark.” She said by way of explanation.

Sam knew that was all the explanation he was going to get.

“So I take it this is about Barnes and Y/N?” She asked

“Man I’m not even gonna ask how you know.”

“Not much outside of a mission could have you this wound up and the tension between them has been growing steadily. It was only a matter of time before it escalated.” She told him.

“Well she overheard him basically calling her unlovable and broken and she responded by reminding him he was a murderer and she… was not. Then Robocop broke the kitchen. You know Steve and I actually thought those two were going to be good for each other once upon a time. Similar backstory and all that.” Sam handed over her coffee as he sighed wistfully.

“There are elements of similarity there but a lot of differences as well. They were never going to get along because they each have the one thing the other wants more than anything.” Natasha told him.

“He has a normal human past and she has a clean rap sheet. It’s like somehow a genie mixed up their wishes.” Sam mused.

Natasha hummed in agreement as she sipped the latte contentedly. Nobody made coffee like Sam Wilson.

“So how do we stop this before somebody gets hurt?” Sam asked her.

Natasha smiled her super spy ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile

“Sometimes Wilson, the only way out is through”

“You’re not honestly suggesting we do nothing? They’ll kill each other.”

“There’s nothing we can do. We can’t make them like each other and any attempts to sway them will be seen as hostile. We just have to pick up the pieces and let them work it out of their systems.” She advised.

“Fine, but when they start Civil War 2 Caps gonna be pissed I’m not on his side. Barnes took my steering wheel, he’s not taking my Y/N.”

“Did you just compare Y/N to a steering wheel?”

“That came out wrong.”

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

You curled your body into the smallest ball you could as you soaked up the sense of warmth and safety your current location gave you. Someone’s legs passed your line of vision but you didn’t flinch, you knew who it was. You considered calling out to let him know you were there but decided against it. You were perfectly content where you were and knowing he was close by was enough. The decision was for nought as you yawned softly as the legs passed you by again, the end of your yawn tapering off into a squeak as you stretched. The legs paused in front of you and suddenly you were staring at the upside down amused face of Tony Stark.

“You napping under my desk again Kit Kat?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, which from your current position looked comical.

“I’m relaxing, not napping.” You protested as you crawled out from under the desk.

When you had first been brought out of the facility where you were made the only person you felt safe around was Tony. Since Tony spent most of his time in the lab you’d been made to feel at home in the space. In the beginning open spaces still made you uneasy and you’d spent most of your time curled up under his desk. Tony never questioned your behaviour or made you feel weird about it, instead he just took to fondly calling you an abundance of cat related nicknames and made sure there were always blankets and pillows in your little safe space.

Tony tossed a screwdriver in your general direction and pointed you towards… well you weren’t sure what it was. A sci-fi looking contraption.

“Unscrew all the metal plates from the sides.” He instructed you.

“Am I average looking?” You asked him.

He paused from whatever he was doing on the other side of the lab and puzzled over your strange question. Or rather you assumed that was what he was doing. It had been part of Bucky’s original assessment to Steve of you and the only part of his insult you weren’t insulted by. More curious as to whether it was accurate.

“No. You’re beautiful.” Tony said matter of factly and went back to whatever he was doing.

Despite what other thought of him or how he acted with others Tony was actually incredibly patient with you. He never belittled or mocked you. He teased you relentlessly but had never come close to hurting your feelings with it. Whenever you didn’t understand something he just explained it. You had come out of the facility with very little knowledge of the world and the way it worked. Thanks to Tony you were a (mostly) fully functioning adult who could make pop culture references. Whenever you didn’t understand something, which happened less and less you had a system. If it involved science, technology or media you asked Tony. If it involved feelings, social interactions or societal regulations you asked Pepper. It was a good system and it served you well.

“This is the wrong screwdriver” You muttered

You grinned happily at the familiar whizzing sound as Dum-E came over to you excitedly waving the correct screwdriver. You crouched down to him and took it, patting him on the head affectionately. You didn’t see Tony watching you fondly but Natasha watching through the glass door caught it. With a smirk she entered the lab and tossed an envelope onto the desk next to Tony.

“As requested. And before you try and thank me, I was happy to do this one. It was my pleasure.” She quipped, throwing a glance back at you over her shoulder.

Tony looked somewhere between giddy and nervous as he looked down at the envelope. You were too busy babbling away to Dum-E as he tried to assist you with Tony’s contraption to pay attention to what was going on. You had heard Natasha come in but figured she’d come and see you after she spoke to Tony. You didn’t think whatever they were discussing was any of your business. You were wrong. The familiar sound of high heels clipping along the corridor reached your eyes and you stood up excitedly.

“Pepper!” You yelled excitedly

“Um… where?” Tony asked, looking around in confusion.

“That’s my cue to leave.” Natasha informed him and started to slip out of the lab.

She threw you a wink as you frowned at her, wordlessly letting you know she wasn’t ignoring you and everything was alright. She and Pepper passed each other in the doorway as Pepper rushed in.

“Did I miss it? Do you have them?” Pepper demanded of Tony, forgoing all hello’s.

Tony’s eyes barely hit the envelope before Pepper snatched it up and started methodically checking the contents. You and Dum-E shared a look of confusion before Pepper let out a loud exhale and nodded to Tony.

“Alright whiskers, we need to have a talk.” Tony informed you.

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

An hour later you were walking around the grounds in a daze. You wandered around aimlessly, your mind going a thousand miles a minute and your stomach churning. Anyone you came across ducked their head and gave you a wide berth, the dark emotions almost visibly rolling off you keeping them away. Until now. You hadn’t really registered the pounding sound of boots hitting the ground as someone jogged around the building. It was only when your blank stare into the void had lined up with the jogger that you crashed back into your own mind and you scowled. Around the same time Bucky slowed his jog down as he noticed you, his expression contorting to a scowl as well.

You almost swerved off the path to go walk across the grass and away from him but you refused to give him the satisfaction and instead jutted your chin up and glared at him.

“Soldat.” You hissed at him scathingly.

He nodded cooly at you as he casually jogged passed

“Vernichtung.” He tossed the greeting back at you with a smirk.

Your insides twisted painfully and bile rose up in the back of your throat when you heard the word. You screeched to a halt with a gasp as you tried to suck in enough oxygen. Bucky noted your reaction with a victorious grin.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Ever.” You growled out.

Bucky ceased jogging and turned back round to look at you and saw your wide eyed panicked expression. Your shoulders were raised and your hands clenched into fists as you hyperventilated. Bucky frowned, the beginnings of guilt stirring in him. You looked terrified, he could practically smell the fear on you. Yet… you had called him soldat first. A few hours ago you had called him a killer. In fact this was probably another act you were putting on, like your little performance with the waffles. His eyes narrowed at you.

“Why? That is your name isn’t it? That’s what they called you before Stark picked you up and gave you a new name. Like re homing a pet from the pound.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, fury beginning to push out the fear in your system.

“That’s all you are you know. An abused stray The Avengers picked up.”

The more he spoke the clearer your mind got. He thought he was getting to you but his words were having the opposite effect to what he intended. He was only reminding you what you weren’t.

“You’re not a teammate, or a friend to anyone here. You’re a pity project. Stop fooling yourself into thinking that you’re actually a real person. You’re nobody.”

His words made something inside of you click and you smiled softly to yourself as you reached into your pocket and pulled out the gift Tony had given you. Flipping it open you held it up for him to see.

“Actually Bucky, I’m a Stark.”

You turned on your heel and walked away from him, not caring how he reacted. You looked down at the passport in your hands with warmth blooming in your heart as you read your name. You were a Stark.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

         Vernichtung (German)

destruction (the act of destroying)

annihilation, extinction

I sure hope this tagging thing works! Here’s part three folks.

@dugan365 @memanda17 @fluffeh-kitty

[inyournightmares97]

My Youth (Chapter 7)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, death, angst, slow build, maybe some language.(Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 5.6k+

(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6)

Jinyoung was not pleased.

“I don’t understand why we’re suddenly making friends with kids now, that’s all,” he complained as you sat down on the grass and opened your lunchbox. A delicious aroma wafted from it it. You had begun to make your own lunches ever since high school began and you discovered that you had a knack for cooking. “How can you even enjoy the company of that man-child? All he does is smile in that annoying way and nod his head.”

You sighed. “Jinyoung, can’t you be a little nicer?”

“I’m not nice,” he muttered.

“I told you, Yugyeom hasn’t been eating lunch for the past few weeks. His mother works full time so she can’t make him anything, and he often gets what little lunch money he has stolen by some seniors,” you replied firmly. “So I offered to make him lunch too. Can’t you just deal with it?”

Jinyoung pouted. “It’s a nuisance. We can’t talk freely with that kid around.”

“He’s just one year younger than us, stop calling him a kid. And if you’re so bothered by his presence then go eat lunch with Jackson or something,” you snapped.

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. He had been whining about Yugyeom, sure, but he hadn’t expected you to tell him to eat somewhere else. How could you choose that kid Yugyeom over him? He was offended and hurt.

“Fine,” Jinyoung muttered while giving you the stink eye. “I’ll shut up.”

You rolled your eyes at Jinyoung’s adorable pout. He could whine all he wanted,  but you knew that he would never actually eat lunch anywhere else. You lifted a hand and waved at Yugyeom as he approached.

“Yugyeom! Over here! I brought fish today!”

Yugyeom ran over to you happily, his long legs a little awkward. “Noona!” he greeted you. Then he turned and politely smiled at Jinyoung. “Jinyoung-sunbaenim! Thanks for letting me eat with you!”

Jinyoung bristled. Noona? Why was Yugyeom calling you that? Since when has this new nonsense started?

“It’s fine,” Jinyoung mumbled. He let out a small huff and shoveled a spoonful of his own lunch into his mouth. He didn’t like the way the kid was always fawning over you. Didn’t he have friends of his own? Why did he have to come eat lunch with the two of you, out of the entire school?

You opened your lunchbox to show Yugyeom the extra food you’d packed for him and then sighed. “Oh no! I brought an extra pair of chopsticks for you, Yugyeom, but I left them in my bag.”

Yugyeom sat up. “I can get them, noona-”

“No, it’ll take you longer to find them. I’ll run back and get them myself,” you insisted, getting up and running back to the classroom. There was an uncomfortable silence once you left. Jinyoung side-eyed the cheerful Yugyeom and then cleared his throat. Perhaps it was time to wrap up this nuisance once and for all.  

Jinyoung plastered a fake smile onto his lips and put an arm around Yugyeom’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“Yugyeom…”

Yugyeom’s big brown eyes turned to him. “Yes, sunbaenim?”

“You don’t really want to eat lunch here with us, do you?” Jinyoung asked knowingly. “You probably want to go eat with your friends but the seniors keep stealing your lunch money in the mornings. How about I help you solve that problem?”

Yugyeom blinked, confused. “But I don’t mind eating lunch with noona-”

“Well, I mind. So how about you take this,” Jinyoung quietly tucked a currency note into Yugyeom’s hand and closed his fingers over it, “and go buy yourself something nice from the cafeteria, hmm? I hear they’re serving chicken today. And tomorrow’s pork! You don’t want to miss the pork! I’ll lend you more tomorrow.”

“But-”

“And we can keep this a secret from noona, can’t we? Imagine how hard it must be for her to wake up early and make all this extra food for you. You don’t want to be a burden to her, right?” Jinyoung asked knowingly. “So let’s do it this way. It’s easier for all of us.”

Yugyeom looked down at the currency note and his eyes widened. “But Jinyoung-sunbaenim, your  money…”

“You can pay me back someday,” Jinyoung promised. He gave Yugyeom a reassuring pat on the back. “Go on now, before they run out of chicken. I’ll tell noona you left.”

Yugyeom opened his mouth to protest but he saw the slightly dangerous glint in Jinyoung’s eyes. Even though Jinyoung had phrased it as a favor, he sensed that this was not something he could refuse. Yugyeom nodded reluctantly. “Okay. Thanks, sunbaenim…”

Jinyoung smiled, satisfied.

“Call me hyung.”

---------

Jinyoung woke up to the delicious aroma of fresh coffee.

The blanket he was wrapped up in smelled delightfully like you and he didn’t even want to open his eyes. The memories of the previous night were too fresh in his mind. Realizing that he had a long way to go to gain your forgiveness and respect was daunting. Jinyoung hadn’t expected that his actions, or lack of them, would have such severe consequences. The road ahead wasn’t an easy one.

Then again, Jinyoung had never been one to take the easy road.

He should have been embarrassed and upset about his behaviour, but he wasn’t. Jinyoung felt more relieved than anything. The fact that you had finally opened up to him and been honest with him was a step in the right direction. Now he knew what he had done wrong and he could correct it. It would take time but it was possible.

“Jinyoung? Are you awake?” your soft voice called out from the kitchen.

“Uh-yeah,” Jinyoung replied gruffly. He shoved the blanket off himself and hurried to his feet, only to realize how painful his headache was. He groaned and paused to fold up the blanket and place it to the side of the couch. Your apartment was extremely neat. The last thing he wanted to do was cause you trouble.

“Come in here and get some coffee!” you called out.

Jinyoung followed the sound of your voice and arrived at the doorway of the kitchen. You were standing with your back to him in a loose t-shirt and shorts; your feet were bare on the cold kitchen floor. Your hair was a mess and your arms were wrapped around yourself to shield yourself from the chilly morning weather. When you turned to face him, and your lips turned up into a gentle smile, Jinyoung felt his heart skip a beat.

“Morning,” you greeted him lightly. “Do you want coffee or should we jump straight to the hangover cure?”

Jinyoung blinked at you helplessly. He had never seen you like this. Soft, messy and vulnerable. It made him wonder whether you looked this beautiful every morning. It made him wonder whether, if he had never left for Seoul, he might have seen you like this every day. Jinyoung suddenly wanted to take you into his arms again and inhale your familiar scent.

He cleared his throat. “I’m… I’m not that hungover.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you’re squinting at me like that? Because you don’t have a splitting headache?” you wondered as you poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him. “Here; let’s start with the coffee for now. Your mother called. She’s made breakfast and a cure for your hangover already so we’d better head over.”

Jinyoung blinked, confused. “We?”

“You don’t want me to come?” you demanded. “Your Mom always invites me over for breakfast on Saturdays.”

“Oh.” Jinyoung took a sip of the coffee awkwardly. “I-I didn’t know.”

You nodded and leaned against the counter as you clutched your own mug. Jinyoung was staring down at the coffee blankly and you could see that he was deep in thought. The way his dark eyes met yours was awkward and after the conversation you’d both had the previous night, there was no way to pretend everything was fine.

“Jinyoung,” you said softly.

Jinyoung’s head snapped up to look at you and his eyes widened. “Yeah?”

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

Jinyoung let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have gone out and gotten drunk without returning your bicycle, I shouldn’t have turned up here in the middle of the night and made a scene. I don’t…” he cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “The last thing I want to do is be a burden to you.”

You smiled. You could understand that feeling.

“You’re not a burden,” you told him gently.

“That’s what worries me even more,” he admitted. Jinyoung’s cheeks were turning pink. “I don’t understand you. How can you be so nice to me even after you admitted how much I’ve hurt you? Shouldn’t you have punched me in the face the day I arrived? Why are you making me coffee instead?”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Why were you being so kind to Jinyoung? Why hadn’t you been able to treat him coldly or be angry with him like any normal person would? The answer came to you with surprising clarity.

“I don’t want to punch you in the face,” you said calmly. “Seeing you hurt or miserable wouldn’t make me happy.”

“Then what would make you happy?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

You gave him a soft, wistful smile. “…I’d just really like the old Jinyoung back.”

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

You were devastated to find that Jinyoung still possessed his old black hoodie, and insisted on wearing it during the bus ride back to his house.

“I spilled beer on my shirt,” he reminded you smugly when you mentioned the awful garment. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or be mad. Jinyoung had always been extremely stubborn about small things. It was true; the dress shirt he was wearing underneath did have an unsavory beer stain on it. “Do you want me to walk around with the stain showing?” he demanded.

You rolled your eyes as the bus rolled up to the stop. “We both know it’s not the stain you want to hide, but your face.”

Jinyoung sighed and followed you onto the bus. “Don’t I deserve at least that much? The reporters are all over town. It’s a matter of time before they get somebody talking and publish an article about my life after GOT Group.”

“Why don’t you just give an interview so that they leave you alone?”

Jinyoung scoffed. “And say what? They’ll just twist anything I say. When I was still the CEO, I had a PR Manager to handle the press. Now I’m on my own.”

You sighed as you sat down and Jinyoung casually sat beside you. There was only one other woman on the bus; an elderly lady who hadn’t even noticed either of you. You glanced at Jinyoung and frowned. The dark hood had gone up over his head as soon as he saw her.

“Jinyoung, seriously.”

“What?”

“Don’t you own any normal clothing?” you snapped.

He glanced down at his hoodie and you could see the slight tinge of pink that covered his cheeks. “I mean… not really. My wardrobe mostly consisted of either suits and dress shirts for work, or pajamas for when I was home. I never really needed anything else.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “You don’t have any t-shirts? Or sweaters?”

Jinyoung blinked. “I had a couple of golf t-shirts for when I played with the Directors, but I didn’t pack them.”

You stared at him in disbelief. What sort of a life had he been living? You suddenly realized how dedicated Jinyoung had been to his work. “Okay. After we go to your place and have breakfast, you’re going to take a quick shower and we’re going back out.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Out? Out where?”

“Shopping,” you replied. “There’s a mall in the next town. It takes a little while to get there but they have some decent clothing stores. You can’t spend the rest of your life in that one hoodie.”

Jinyoung sighed. “I don’t need clothes-”

“Yes, you do.”

Jinyoung pouted for the rest of the bus journey. He folded his arms across his chest and faced away from you like a child but you could only smile. Jinyoung had never liked being told what to do. Perhaps some things about a person never changed.

As you approached the Parks’ home, you noticed that there were a number of cars parked outside. Shit. Reporters. At least ten people were standing around there and as soon as they saw you, they came running over to you. You froze in shock.

“Mr. Park! Mr. Park, do you have anything to say about your dismissal from GOT Group?” one woman screamed in your face. Jinyoung grasped your arm tightly and you could sense that he had tensed up.

Another man tried to shove you aside to get to Jinyoung. “Mr. Park, is it true that you’re planning to sue the company for wrongful dismissal? Will you be taking legal action?”

“Mr. Park, do you plan to return to Seoul? What are your plans for the near future?”

The reporters were blocking your way and their camera were flashing in your faces. They wouldn’t let you move and Jinyoung’s nervous grasp on your arm was tightening. You could see his face growing pale. You tried to yell at the reporters to move and make way, but somebody else beat you to it.

“Hey!” a loud voice yelled. A tall police officer in uniform shoved his way through the tight group of reporters and created a path. “Didn’t I tell you all I’d be arresting anyone who harassed him? Make way right now!”

You couldn’t help but smile as you recognized the police officer. He had a toothy smile and he beamed at you happily as he pushed another reporter out of the way. He lifted a hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, noona!”

You grinned. “Hey, Yugyeom! What are you doing here?”

“I’ll explain later! You both get indoors quickly!”

You nodded and followed Jinyoung indoors. He yanked the front door open and stumbled into the front hall desperately. You grabbed his arm, concerned. “Jinyoung. Jinyoung, are you okay?”

He was breathing heavily. “I’m-I’m fine.”

“I can’t believe they ambushed you like that…”

You waited for Jinyoung to catch his breath. He was evidently shaken up by the reporters and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes for a few moments. You held his hand and gently comforted him. After a few moments, the front door opened and Yugyeom peeked in with a sheepish smile.

“Hi. Can I come in?” he wondered.

“Yugyeom!” you greeted him again with a cheerful smile. Jinyoung looked confused. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You must be busy at the police station.”

Yugyeom rubbed the back of his neck. “Hardly, noona, just the occasional bar fight on weekends. The Chief heard about how the reporters were harassing Jinyoung-hyung so I’m on duty here to keep an eye out for your safety!”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow in distaste. “Hyung?”

Yugyeom blushed under Jinyoung’s sharp glare. “Uh, sorry. Jinyoung-ssi. You might not remember me, but we went to high school together. You used to lend me lunch money because I kept getting mine taken from the bullies, remember?”

Jinyoung cut him off quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I remember you. So you’re a cop now. You didn’t seem like the type.”

Yugyeom blinked innocently. “Really? Why?”

“Well… weren’t you always getting beaten up in school?”

Yugyeom grinned. “Ahh. I get beaten up now too. I tried to break up a bar fight a few days ago and the drunken thugs all ganged up on me and beat me up instead. I have the bruises too; look!” he pulled up his shirt to reveal a couple of bruises on his stomach and you gasped.

“Yugyeom! That looks so painful.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “How could a cop let himself get beaten up?”  

You elbowed him. “Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung bristled. “What? I’m just saying that if he got beaten up then he’s probably not very good at his job, that’s all-”

“Don’t be so insensitive!”

Yugyeom looked unperturbed. The cheerful smile didn’t leave his face for a second. “That’s okay, noona! He’s right, I’m still learning. Anyway, I’ll be right outside taking care of the reporters so you go ahead and enjoy yourselves! Yell if you need me!”

You smiled. “Thanks, Yugyeom.”

Yugyeom hurried back outside and you were left alone with a sour-faced Jinyoung. You pinched his arm and he glared at you. “Ow!” Jinyoung cried. “Why did you do that?”

“Can’t you be nicer to him? He’s literally here for your protection.”

Jinyoung pouted. “So? I didn’t ask for his help. And what good is a cop that gets himself beaten up anyway?”

You sighed.

“Just go shower. You stink.”

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

Mrs. Park was only too happy to hear that you and Jinyoung were going shopping. She was understandably tired of having to wash the same black hoodie over and over again, which meant that after breakfast and a shower, Jinyoung was packed into Yugyeom’s police car against his will.

“You know, you don't have to come with us,” Jinyoung told Yugyeom hopefully.

Yugyeom smiled. “I do! Chief told me specifically that I had to make sure you were safe until the reporters problem died down. They’re my orders!”

Jinyoung sighed. “Yes, but surely cops have better things to be doing?”

“Not in our town,” Yugyeom replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, everyone’s worried about you, hyung. Nobody likes seeing the reporters harass you and your parents. And being with you means that I don’t have to be on duty outside the bar tonight!”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “Pity.”

The mall was tiny. Jinyoung had almost forgotten that malls here weren’t as large and spectacular as the ones in Seoul. Still, he didn’t mind as you dragged him into the Men’s section of a nice clothing store and began pointing at clothes that you thought would suit him.

“Here,” you pulled a light blue t-shirt off the rack. Then you found a nice navy blue sweatshirt. “And this one. Oh! And that pretty checkered one over there. Go on; try all of these on.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow as you shoved an armful of the clothes at him. Your eyes were sparkling and you looked excited as you picked out shirts and other casual wear for him. He rubbed the back of his neck as the pile in his arms began to grow.

“I, uh, didn’t realize you liked shopping so much,” he mumbled.

You paused and gave him a sheepish smile. Perhaps you were getting a little too excited. “I mean… truth is, I’ve never even been in the Men’s section before. I don’t know any men that would let me pick out clothes for them. So you’re going to be my guinea pig for today.”

Jinyoung stared at you. “Wow, fun.”

“Are you going to go try those on or not?”

“Fine,” he mumbled. He took the armful of clothing and headed towards the fitting rooms, when he suddenly came across Yugyeom. The taller cop looked down at the clothes in his arms and let out a soft tsk. Jinyoung frowned at him. “What?” he demanded.

Yugyeom shook his head. “You don’t need all those. I used to buy a lot of expensive stuff in college too, until a friend named Bambam told me the ultimate trick to choosing clothes.”

“And what’s that?”

Yugyeom pulled a simple beige sweater off the rack next to him and put it into Jinyoung’s hands. The material was unbelievably soft and velvety; it made Jinyoung want to press it to his face. “You need something the girls can’t keep their hands off. You need a boyfriend sweater.”

-------

“Hey. What do you think?”

You froze in your tracks. Jinyoung had emerged from the fitting room wearing the simple beige sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. It was gorgeous. The garment had been rather unremarkable on the rack but it made Jinyoung look unbelievably handsome. The sweater clung spectacularly to his shoulders and well-built upper arms. The jeans, on the other hand, perfectly framed Jinyoung’s shapely butt.

You were suddenly struck by how attractive Jinyoung had become.

“Uh…” you trailed off slowly.

Jinyoung blinked at you doubtfully. “No? It’s probably a no, right? That kid picked it out for me. I knew he had bad taste.”

Your eyes widened. “No, no! It looks really good on you! You have to get it!” you insisted. You stepped closer to Jinyoung and gently ran your fingers over the soft, velvety cloth of the sweater. “Wow, it’s so soft and cuddly. You should get this. It’ll come in handy when the weather gets colder.”

Jinyoung blinked down at your hand stroking his arm. His cheeks flushed pink at the way your fingers kept trailing up and down and he quickly pulled his arm away. “I-I’ll go try some other stuff on, then. Stop groping me.”

You glared at him and withdrew your hand. “Who was groping you? I was touching the sweater!”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes and went back into the fitting room, leaving you flustered. Why were your cheeks burning all of a sudden? It was amazing how taking off the baggy hoodie and putting on a nice sweater and jeans suddenly made Park Jinyoung seem like a different person.

A very handsome different person.

“That was a nice sweater, huh?” Yugyeom piped up. He had a cheeky grin on his face and you blinked at him in surprise. You hadn’t even noticed him sneak up behind you. “I knew Jinyoung-hyung would look good in it.”

You frowned. “Huh.”

“Noona…” Yugyeom began slowly. He looked a little sheepish. “Do you think I should offer to pay Jinyoung-hyung back for all the times he paid for my lunch back in high school? It seems kind of weird to ask now that he’s rich but I should still offer, right? He did tell me back then that I could pay him back someday.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? How often did he lend you lunch money? Wasn’t it just a couple of times?”

“Noona. Come on. He bought me lunch for nearly two years! Remember? That’s why I told you to stop making me lunch and I started eating at the cafeteria,” Yugyeom reminded you.

“That was because Jinyoung started buying you lunch?” you demanded. “I thought you’d just dealt with the guys who used to steal your lunch money!”

“Nah. Jinyoung-hyung used to find me before lunch and lend me money every day. He said it was because he didn’t want you to go to the trouble of making extra food for me but…” Yugyeom lowered his voice slightly. “I think he just didn’t like having me sitting with you both at lunch.”

You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe that Jinyoung had gone to such lengths just to be rid of Yugyeom. He had been a whole different class of idiot back then.

“That idiot.”

“So should I offer to pay him back?”

“He’ll probably deny it if you bring it up anyway,” you pointed out. If Jinyoung had bought Yugyeom lunch for two years and not said a word about it, he had definitely not wanted you to find out. Probably because he knew that you would scold him for trying to get rid of Yugyeom. “Let it be. He’s having a hard enough time.”

Yugyeom shrugged. “Okay.”

You browsed the store casually until Jinyoung returned from the fitting room with the clothes that he liked. You followed him to the payment counter and smiled as you spotted a rack of sunglasses. “Hey. Jinyoung. Check these out,” you playfully took one of the sunglasses and tried them on. They were a little too large for your face. “Don’t I look cool?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s winter.”

“And you’re being unbelievably grumpy,” you replied with a frown, returning the sunglasses to the shelf. You glanced back to make sure Yugyeom was busy browsing something else before you lowered your voice. “Would it kill you to be a little nicer to Yugyeom? He came all the way out here just in case you faced any trouble with reporters. And he’s a perfect sweetheart. You have no reason to hate him.”

Jinyoung looked away from you as the cashier began to check out his clothes. “I don’t hate him.”

“Well, you haven’t been very nice to him.”

“He just gets on my nerves, that’s all.”

“Why?”

Jinyoung was silent for a long moment and then he sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. You were right. He had no reason to justify his irritation. Yugyeom was a nice guy. “No reason. Fine. I’ll be nicer to him. What do you want me to do? Should I buy him a drink or something?”

You blinked. “That might be nice.”

“Fine,” Jinyoung muttered as he pulled out his card to pay for the clothes. You blinked and paused, pushing his card away gently and taking out your own wallet. He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Let me pay,” you replied simply.

Jinyoung frowned. “No. I can pay for my own clothes-”

“Yeah, but I’ll just reduce it from the money I owe you from before,” you replied simply. You handed the cashier your own card while Jinyoung’s face paled. You nudged him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been keeping account of the money I owe you. You’ll get it all someday.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Look, you don’t need to-”

“Besides,” you replied with a playful grin. “You’re the unemployed one here. It’s the least I can do.”

Jinyoung’s face turned sour. “Very funny.”

“Too soon?” you teased, as the cashier handed you the shopping bag. You thanked her and then turned around to call for Yugyeom, who was staring longingly at a pair of expensive running shoes. “Yugyeom! Come on, let’s go! We should stop somewhere and grab lunch! I’m buying!”

Yugyeom perked up. “Awesome!”

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

Jinyoung was silent during the car ride back home.

He hadn’t realized just how rudely he’d been behaving towards Yugyeom until you pointed it out, and it took Jinyoung a while to remember exactly why he disliked the younger man. Back in high school, there had been a point of time when Yugyeom had followed you both everywhere. There had been no doubt in Jinyoung’s mind that he had a crush on you. You, in turn, had always been fond of the cheerful boy.

Jinyoung had been terrified that you would start dating Yugyeom and leave him all by himself.

It all boiled down to childish jealousy.

You hadn’t been without your fair share of male admirers back then, but Yugyeom was the first boy other than Jinyoung that you’d ever actually paid attention to. It had made Jinyoung bitter. He liked  being your only friend. He liked having all of your attention. Jinyoung hadn’t wanted to share you or your time, especially not with an underclassman who only ever seemed to get himself bullied and eat your lunch.

God, he was such a child. How long had it been since Jinyoung had felt something as innocent and natural as jealousy? How long had it been since he’d craved someone’s attention the way he craved yours? You had come out shopping for him, had picked out clothes for him but Jinyoung still hated every second you looked at Yugyeom. It made his stomach burn and his blood boil.

“What are you smiling about?” you asked Jinyoung.

He glanced at you. “Huh?”

“You’re smiling to yourself. What’s so funny?” you demanded, curious.

Jinyoung shook his head enigmatically, but he couldn’t get rid of the smile that had crawled onto his face. You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t understand how cold his heart had turned over the past few years, or how he’d stopped feeling things like jealousy or excitement or irritation. You wouldn’t understand how this small emotion, however immature or inconsequential, made Jinyoung suddenly feel alive again.

“Hey Yugyeom,” Jinyoung leaned forward to address the man in the driver’s seat of the vehicle. “Do you have any plans this evening? Let’s drop all this shopping off at my house and go get a drink at the bar. I’ll buy you a glass of whatever’s on the top shelf.”

Yugyeom gasped. “No. Really, Jinyoung-ssi?”

Jinyoung glanced at you and the small, pleased smile on your face made his heart suddenly swell with pride.

“Call me hyung.”

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

“Hey! Ready to go?” you asked as you bounced over to Jinyoung’s desk with your bag slung over your back.

Jinyoung and Jackson had been huddled together and they both ignored you as they looked at some sort of book that they’d hidden under the desk. You tapped Jinyoung on the shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his seat, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Uh….”

“What are you guys looking at?”

“N-nothing! Just Jackson’s English textbook!” Jinyoung cried, quickly closing it and stuffing it into his backpack. Your eyes were sharp; you caught a glimpse of bare skin on the glossy magazine page and raised an eyebrow in understanding. Part of you had thought that Jinyoung was too classy to indulge in those nude magazines, but evidently he was just as much a teenage boy as the rest of them.

“And you’re putting Jackson’s English textbook in your bag because…?” you asked knowingly.

“I’m-I’m borrowing it.”

“Don’t you have your own?”

Jinyoung frowned at you, his cheeks flushing pink. He zipped his bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “I lost mine, okay? Wow, you’re full of questions today. Let’s just go home.”

You shrugged and followed Jinyoung out of the classroom. He was silent for most of the walk home and continuously avoided your attempts to make small talk You figured that he was embarrassed at having been caught looking at the magazine. Jinyoung was such an idiot sometimes. Why couldn’t he just be honest about things like that?

“You know, girls look at stuff like that too,” you piped up suddenly.

Jinyoung stared at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“I mean… not the magazines,” you replied, wincing. “But there’s other stuff. Like there’s this erotic novel that came out recently and all the girls in our class are crazy about it. I have a copy with me right now. Want to read it?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened as you reached into your backpack and pulled out a small pink novel. It had an intimate image of a man in a suit and a woman in a ballgown embracing each other on the front. Jinyoung’s eyes widened in shock and he looked around the street nervously.

“What are you doing? Put that away!”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Don’t freak out. It’s just a book with some sex scenes in it, would you relax?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat and avoided your gaze with flushed cheeks. “You have no shame.”

“Says the guy who was looking at naked pictures of women in class!”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened as he glanced around the street nervously to make sure nobody had heard and then snatched the small novel from your hands. “Fine. Just stop talking about it so loudly, okay?”

You giggled. “Okay.”

--------

“Jinyoung! You have a visitor!”

Yugyeom helped you and Jinyoung weave your way through the crowd of reporters that had evidently decided to camp outside the Parks’ home. Once you entered, there was a familiar face sitting in the living room. Im Jaebum was lounging on the couch and enjoying a cup of tea that Mrs. Park had made him.

“Jaebum?” Jinyoung demanded, surprised. A relieved smile spread across his face at the sight of his friend. “What are you doing here again?”

Jaebum rolled his eyes as he stood up to greet Jinyoung with a friendly hug. “If you want me to call in advance before I drop in, then you need to own a cellphone, genius,” he deadpanned. Then he turned and greeted you with a warm handshake. “Hey, it’s nice to see you again.”

You smiled. “Hi, Jaebum.”

Yugyeom poked his head into the interaction eagerly and stuck his own hand out in greeting as well. “Hi, I’m Kim Yugyeom! I’m the police officer in charge of Park Jinyoung’s safety until further notice.”

Jaebum blinked. “Huh. Interesting. My name is Jaebum, I uh… well, I guess I used to be the head of the Legal Department at GOT Group but I handed in my resignation yesterday. Now I’m about as unemployed as the next guy. The next guy being you,” he said with a playful grin towards Jinyoung. Jinyoung’s dark eyes widened in surprise.

“You resigned?” he demanded.

“I wasn’t going to stay there once they’d kicked you out,” Jaebum replied, chuckling. He patted Jinyoung on the back as he continued to stare at him in shock. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. The environment at work has been pretty toxic since they announced your dismissal and I’m tired of cleaning up the loose ends. I’m thinking I might take a break for a while and travel. My girlfriend and I are leaving for a Europe tour on Monday. She’s ecstatic that I’m finally spending time with her.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “Uh, wow. That sounds… great.”

“I thought I’d drop by and see you before I left. You doing okay?”

Jinyoung nodded slowly. “I’m fine.”

“You look a lot better than you did a few days ago,” Jaebum reassured him with a small smile. He grinned and put an arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder cheerfully. “How about we all go get a drink for old times’ sake? Maybe share some embarrassing stories about Jinyoung?”

You smiled. “That sounds awesome.”

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