#feat. the least convincing roses ever

[omo321]

🥺

[helenofsparta2]

Rick did Jason Grace so dirty in HoO

Before I explain, I think I should establish that I really like Jason as a character. While he isn’t one of my favourites, he has really grown on me over the last couple of years. But he never really had a shot with the fandom, after his introduction in The Lost Hero, and after Son of Neptune and a lot of that has to do with the way Rick set him up for failure from the very beginning with a variety of writing decisions. The odds were really stacked against him.

Let’s first recap the very base of who Jason Grace is. He had an unstable mother, who gave him up to Juno when he was two years old, so that she could claim him as her champion. He is the only demigod child of Jupiter, and grew up raised by wolves, then later raised in a relatively strict military hierarchy since a very early age without any knowledge of his mortal family. He had to deal with all the pressure and expectations that came with who his father is. Over time he managed to become one of the two leaders of said hierarchy and has been committed to change its society for the better ever since. He led Camp Jupiter in the titan war and managed to defeat the titan Krios with his bare hands,  He is the long-lost brother of Thalia Grace, one of the more popular characters from the PJO book. He is extremely kind, protective, and loyal, and one of the most powerful demigods in the Riordan verse.

This should have easily made him into a fan favourite character. But what happened instead was for him to become the least favorite member of the seven, to be considered boring and skippable by a lot of fans, and to even get a lot of haters. (I know especially here on tumblr a lot of people really love Jason, but I’m talking about the more general part of the fandom, and I don’t think anyone can deny that Jason gets quite a lot of hate there.)

So, what went wrong?

I think there are three main reasons for the dislike he receives.

Telling, and not showing on part of Rick’s writing

A constant forced comparison with Percy

A lacking character arc in the hoo books

Let’s start with the first one.

Telling, and not showing

Piper’s and Leo’s POVs did him a huge disservice in that regard in the lost hero. During the entirety of the book, Piper wore rose-tinted glasses when it came to him. There is barely a chapter without her glazing Jason, or commenting on his looks or generally how perfect he is. Leo deals with a lot of insecurities and, while not as extreme as Piper, puts Jason also on a pedestal in his chapters. This was, for one, quickly becoming repetitive, but also put a lot of expectations on Jason, which are impossible to meet for any character.

It doesn’t help that Jason didn’t achieve all that many impressive feats in The Lost Hero. He didn’t do nothing, but in comparison to Leo and Piper, he gets a bit overshadowed.

Leo pretty early on established himself as a mathematic genius. He repairs Festus, saves Piper and Jason from the cyclops, and fights against Khione at the Wolf’s house.

Piper uses her charm speak to convince Boreas and his sons to let them go, frees Leo and Jason from Medea’s control, breaks Hera’s cage together with Leo, and is able to revive Jason after he accidentally looked at Juno in her divine form.

Jason, meanwhile, defeats a venti at the Grand Canyon and saves Piper’s life, defeats Lityerses and Midas, and defeats Encaladeus with the help of Zeus.

Don’t get me wrong. Those are great accomplishments and put Jason at the very top of the demigod power hierarchy, but with the way everyone talks about him, and with the standards we already have for children of the big three as readers of PJO, he just falls a bit short. Especially when you focus on top of that on other moments in that book where he gets knocked out by the cyclops or looks unprompted at Juno in her divine form, to list a few examples.

Despite this, his actions and abilities would have probably still made him into a fan-favourite character, if there wouldn’t have been this constant comparison with Percy.

A forced Comparison

Jason and Percy are getting compared in the hoo books in a very obvious way. They are set up as equals by Rick with its entire premise in the first two books and the weird rivalry thing he wrote in Mark of Athena, which is, I think, the main reason why Jason is so disliked.

Percy Jackson is probably the most popular character within the Riordan verse. The only characters who even come close are Nico di Angelo, Leo Valdez, and maybe Annabeth Chase. He is the main character for the entire prequel series, and had much more time to develop and for the readers to get attached to than any other character.

This was a lost battle, even before the first chapter of the lost hero was written. By the time, Percy and Jason meet, Percy was the main character, or at least one of the main characters, in 11 adventures, if you include the short stories, while Jason was one of three POV characters in a single book. A book, where he had amnesia for the entirety of it. People are protective of their favourite characters, and if you make a direct comparison between the most popular character in your franchise and some new guy, even (try to) establish them as equals and force them to have a rivalry, people are naturally going to develop a dislike for the new guy.

And Rick certainly didn’t help matters with the way he wrote them.

At the end of the lost hero, Hera tells Jason, that he is going to be the leader of the seven, but we know he isn’t. We, as readers, who have followed Annabeth and Percy since they were 12 years old, know that he doesn’t deserve this role, judging by what we have seen of him.

Even if he were to be portrayed as strong as Percy in the following books, it would feel undeserved. While we have seen Percy fight the many monsters and titan’s he did in the PJO books, and seen his growth in both power and character, we only get told that Jason defeated Krios with his bare hands. There isn’t even a flashback in either his or Reyna’s POV chapters of the incident, which could have at least elevated this accomplishment.

And then, Rick publishes Son of Neptune and every possibility of Jason being on the same level as Percy gets instantly flung out of the window.

Percy is the MVP of that book. Frank and especially Hazel are awesome, absolutely no discussion there, but for me at least, Son of Neptune was really Percy’s time to shine.  (Though I have to admit, I’m pretty biased towards Percy, so that statement is probably really subjective.)

Even before he leaves for the quest, Percy already killed one gorgon, demolished the romans in the war games, sees through Octavius’ performance, figures out what happened with the golden eagle and proves his selflessness by choosing not to take the gorgon blood to recover his memories. Then later he tricks Phineas in what is for me one of the coolest moments in the entirety of hoo, fights an entire army, destroys a glazier, defeats Polybotes basically by himself and, again, makes a fool out of Octavius in front of the senate, and all that after Rick already nerved him by removing the curse of Achilles.

Comparing especially the fights against Polybotes, and Enceladus respectively does Jason absolutely no favors.

Jason fought good, he fought greatl even, he had this very cool moment with his speech explaining who he was and boasting of his accomplishments, but in the end, his weapon got destroyed and he had to pray to his father to kill Enceladeus with a lighting bolt. That was an amazing feat for a demigod, absolutely no discussion, but really pales in comparison to Percy’s fight at the end of Son of Neptune.  

Percy absolutely bodied Polybotes. I don’t even know if he received a single injury in this fight. The “help” he received from a god was him smashing the decapitated head of Terminus into Polybotes. Like, Terminus didn’t do shit in that fight.

You can’t describe two characters as being equals and then portray so huge differences in their accomplishments.

Yes, Hazel and Frank also often say that Percy is powerful, or a good leader, or handsome, or smart, in a similar way to how Piper and Leo describe Jason, but with Percy it feels more like a reward as a reader. Because we have already seen him be all of that in the original books. It’s just acknowledgement and no new information.

Also, the absolute dissonance between Jason’s disappearance and camp Jupiter’s reaction also doesn’t help him. How can we believe that he is a leader of the same calibre as Percy, when most of the people in the camp he has lived in since he was four years old, don’t even care that much about his disappearance and are so quick to replace him? (Even worse, they replaced him with Percy) I know that this is just the way, Camp Jupiter works, but simply as a narrative choice, it’s very questionable.  

A lacking Character Arc & Amnesia

Coming to the last point. Jason’s character arc in the entirety of Hoo fell flat to me (Though, to be fair, most character arcs, if they even existed, fell flat to me in Hoo.)

His predominant character arc is him struggling with his identity, between being a roman or a greek. Now, this would be a very compelling arc, if we’d know who Jason Grace was as a roman. But we don’t. We know close to nothing about Jason’s life in New Rome. The only meaningful relationship he apperantly had was with Reyna, and he barely thinks about her in his povs, and even in Reyna’s chapters in boo we barely find out about their friendship. The entire camp turns against him in Mark of Athena. By the end of Boo, he still has not regained his entire memory, and never really confronted his past as a praetor. This is not a full, or satiscfactory character arc.

There are many other points I could name, like his relationship with Piper, or how him being Thalia's brother came completely out of the blue, or how he didn't built any meaningful relationship with characters who weren't Piper or Leo in the four books he's been in, but, to be honest, this post is already getting too long.

I'm just frustrated because he could have been one of the coolest characters in the Riordan verse, but he was really sat up to fail.  

[sammylbir]

Day 3: Talentswap (Celeste x Sayaka)

"Here's your tea, miss.", the waiter told the customer, as he placed a cup of dark red tea onto the table. Looking up from her magazine, the customer took a look at the liquid, her right eye fully focused on the elegant cup and nice shape, along with the fluid in the cup itself. With a smile, she adjusted her eye patch and turned to the waiter gently.

"Thank you.", she told him. "I love Roiboos tea."

The waiter nodded and then walked off, as the girl began to grab the handle and blow off some of the steam.

Her appearance was unique to say the least. A neat white suit with dark red accents contained a slim woman with wide shoulders and blue hair, along a pair of white gloves. Her eyes had a soft touch and yet the eagle-eyed viewer would notice that said eye contained something like a storm.

If she saw guilt in you, the storm would ravage. If not, it would rest. Calm, like the sea.

This was Sayaka Maizono, a famous detective and one who struck fear in the hearts of any criminal that she crossed paths with. Known in the underworld as The Demon Detective due to her ruthless and cold pursuit of crime, most tried to avoid her. Lest they'd face the punishment for their crimes.

But right now, Sayaka was off-duty. It was a sunny day in Bristol and she had decided to drink some hot beverage, in order to relax and to start the day off with a smile. After all, being a detective was no easy feat and she always appreciated whenever she was able to take a day off.

She took a sniff off the tea.

"Mhm....Roiboos...", she said to herself happily. "I wonder if it tastes as good, as the one in Groningen? Only one way to find out."

She grabbed the handle and took a sip of it, smiling happily and humming in delight.

"Delicious?"

Sayaka stopped and turned her attention to one of the other tables. A woman was sitting there, roughly around her age and smiling sweetly at her nearby. Her appearance was interesting to say the least.

Black hair with two massive pigtails, a black jacket with a chess-pattern. Her eyes and lips were as red as roses and her skin was uncharacteristically white and her jawline was rather angular, which contrasted with her rather feminine appearance.

Sayaka nodded and smiled sweetly.

"It is.", she answered content. "I like the temperature. It's not hot enough to burn my tongue yet not cold enough to taste gross."

"Indeed. The Cafe here is known for their exquisite tea. Especially if you add some milk to it."

"You can add milk to tea?", Sayaka asked surprised and rhe stranger nodded elegantly.

"Indeed. There are so many variations, on how one can drink tea. Whether it'd be with candy sticks, sugar cubes or milk. The variations are endless."

"I see... I didn't know that.", Sayaka replied and smiled. "Are you a tea expert by any chance?"

"Well....thank you for the compliment.", Celeste replied and then shook her head. "But my actual ability belies in something more sophisticated."

"Oh really? Like being a skilled actress?", Sayaka asked, to which the stranger tilted her head.

"An actress? Moi?"

"Yes. That's a very convincing french accent if I've ever heard one before.", the detective explained and smiled.

"Convincing? Why of course. I am french after all. The name is Celestia Ludenberg. But you can call me Celeste.", Celeste introduced herself and Sayaka smiled warmly.

"A pretty name. And i am-"

"Sayaka Maizono.", Celeste replied and smirked. "You are quite the celebrity after all."

"Celebrity?", Sayaka asked, as her cheeks reddened while giggling along. "You're such a charmer. I'm just a detective."

"A detective that brought a corrupt Dutch politician to justice.", Celeste answered with a smirk. Sayaka giggled.

"It seems my reputation precedes me. You are a fan of me or what?", she teased, hoping to get some reaction from Celeste. But the latter played it cool.

"Well I have been interested in your career. You seem pretty smart, you know. And I respect smart people. And....."

She smirked.

"... test them."

"Test, you say? With what?", Sayaka asked curiously and eyed the faux french-woman

carefully.

Her accent was almost convincing. Almost. But Sayaka could tell that it was forced.

After all, no french person would pronounce their last name in an english way.

Celeste grinned and took something out from behind. And it was a chessboard. One that seemed very antique and made out of wood, the figures all being in proper place. Rook, knight, pawn, the full package.

"Chess, huh.", Sayaka realised and smiled. "So this is your forte?"

"Oui. I'm a very skilled chess player and am passionate for the sport. And I always appreciate a good battle of wits, so....Care for a game?"

"Hmm...", Sayaka mumbled to herself and eyed the girl for a brief moment, before getting up and smiling. "Sure. On the condition that I get to play as black."

"That can be arranged.", Celeste replied with a smirk and then Sayaka sat down, while the chess player grabbed the pawn with a swift motion and placed it forward.

What followed next, was a fierce yet silent battle. Celeste went immediately on the offensive and Sayaka lost most of her pawns at first and yet she kept up and studied her opponent. Her mentor always taught her to remain calm and composed and to always wait and see.

Which is why Sayaka took her time, before taking out her opponent's pawns, going on the offense. With a sweet smile, both contestants swapped pieces with one another, until....

"Hm.", Celeste noted, as Sayaka took out her last pawn. Only one pawn and king each remained, a clear draw. "So.....a draw. Interesting."

"Yeah.... you're quite good.", Sayaka admitted sheepishly. "I really shouldn't have given up my knight this early..."

"And i should have noticed the trap you laid for my queen.", Celeste replied and giggled. "I had fun nevertheless though. You are a skilled and smart woman Sayaka."

"Thank you. I can say the same about you as well, Celeste.", Sayaka said and smiled. "How about we have some dinner later? So we can get to know each other more. My treat."

"Of course.", Celeste answered and returned a charming smile. "Just tell me when and I shall come."

So, the two agreed on a time and they eventually went separate ways, neither of them leaving each other's heads.

Sayaka wanted to learn more about the woman, who pretended to be french.

And Celeste wanted to learn more about the demon detective and the rumors.

What both knew in the end though, was that this was going to be the beginning of something.... wonderful.

The End

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

You know, Sydney’s very careful on consequences and logic, but sometimes one remembers this is the man that is convinced he defeated lactose intolerance.

His logic is still very skewed, it's just in a different way from before.

Yes, he absolutely is convinced and fully believes he defeated lactose intolerance, no matter how much Alex tries to hammer in that it's his new body that has a better tolerance and nothing he ever did had any effect. Sydney will just chug a whole glass of milk and then look around smugly like he just accomplished a feat of strength and expects recognition for it.

Vanessa only claps for him because she thinks it's cute that he performs the act of drinking milk like a magic trick and she likes to encourage him to do more cute things.

Gregory just kinda rolls his eyes at the bunch of them because he lives in a house of weirdos but at least they're not the kind trying to kill him.

For Sydney, even though he doesn't really remember what his logic was like in his past life, he understands the consequences and knows of the end results of so many of those past actions taken because of that screwy logic thanks to Alex telling him rose-tinted stories and Elizabeth Afton showing him black-and-white facts. So he's constantly hesitating before doing anything interactive with others, trying to think or recall what past Sydney/Panther would most likely do, and then very carefully doing the opposite or not-quite the same to reduce the chances of long-term harm.

It makes him 'weaker' overall as himself and Pantera, which makes Alex more bitter as he recognizes less and less of the Panther he remembers (and wishes he could have back) in Sydney and is left wondering what he truly wanted out of that deal with BellaRosa.

[j-a-nuary]

Carrier

Sonar

<< first | previous | masterlist | next >>

Stray Kids Urban fantasy AU (feat. Ateez from time to time) | A “carrier service” exists, seemingly only to get people (usually women) home safe after the trains stop running.

Heavy on bad boys with hearts of… some kind of shiny metal, probably.

Warnings: smutty stuff [fingering (f rec), the inherent eroticism of vampires], toxic masculinity but make it mystical.

=====

Hyunjin could not believe his luck. His day to day, or - more accurately - night to night, searches for a willing donor weren't exactly difficult. Even before his little accident, he hadn't had much trouble picking up. But afterwards? He could convince anyone of anything.

Not that he liked to. He was a monster, but he wasn't completely without morals. He avoided using his tricks unless it was absolutely necessary.

Sure, the standard he held himself to was low, but at least it existed.

Which made the current situation all the better.

He didn't know why the woman under his hands and against his body was so hot, or why she smelled so strongly of roses, but it just made him all the more hungry.

He groaned as her fingers slid into his hair, tugging slightly as the two of them moved approximately in time with the beat of the dance mix blaring through the club.

Hyunjin bent forward, pressing his lips against her neck. She rewarded him with a stuttered curse. Smiling into her skin, he let his hands slide down her sides, toying with the hem of her top.

"I just want to eat you up," he murmured.

He felt the vibration of her moan more than he heard it. It made him press himself more firmly against her. He slipped one hand under her top, splaying his fingers out to feel more of her just a little too hot skin. Carefully, he hooked his pinky into her waistband.

Maybe that's what made her start trembling. Or maybe it was his other hand, now cupping her chin, pressing just ever so lightly against her throat.

"Will you let me?" Hyunjin asked, nipping at the skin of her neck. He was drowning in her floral smell now, tasting roses and vanilla on her skin.

She nodded. More than that, she let one of her hands fall to his wrist, pushing his lower hand even further downwards.

Hyunjin groaned again, willingly allowing her to guide his hand.

"Right here sweetheart? You want me to take you in front of all these people?"

She was practically throwing herself at him, but he was begging for it anyway.

"Let's go somewhere a little more private," Hyunjin suggested.

It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of showing off. He just didn't want any interruptions or witnesses.

"Where?" She asked, sounding breathless.

"Follow me sweet thing."

=====

"Give me something Seungmin!"

Felix was scanning the crowd inside Sonar. He cursed his inability to hone in on scents like Jisung or Changbin.

His talents were a little more… ephemeral and vague. Given that Spring was only just starting, he was nowhere near the top of his game. Still, he could sense that something was off.

"Do you know how many fucking people are in that club right now? Give me a minute for christ's sake."

Seungmin was right. Felix knew he was right. He took a deep breath, trusting the nerd on the other end of the phone call to do his thing.

Still, he watched the crowd intently. Taking another deep breath, he shut his eyes and desperately tried to remember what she had been wearing.

He cursed his stunted senses. Compared to the others, he was the worst option to track someone down. He had just wanted to take a little bit of the heat off of Jisung, and no way in hell was he about to involve Changbin.

"Seungmin, I need something. I don't see her anywhere."

"I am trying, okay?"

Felix groaned. He didn't know why or how, but he was certain that he needed to get some sort of explanation to Little Turtle tonight. If not tonight, then certainly before she had to call for a carrier again.

"God damn it, I'm such a fucking idiot!"

"What's up?" Seungmin asked.

"Her phone number is literally in the system," something else occurred to Felix as he spoke, "and you have the ring map!"

"That only works if she's wearing it," Seungmin pointed out.

"Check it anyway. And send me her number."

Felix disconnected the call, and waited.

=====

Tempawan allowed herself to be led out of a side exit. Had she not been so focused on the man leading the way, she would have noticed the “authorized personnel only" sign.

But at the moment, she was shameless. In the purest form of the word: without shame. She knew that relief from her strange fever was only moments away.

She quickened her pace just a bit when he pushed the door open. Surging forward, she pressed her lips against his.

They stumbled out, into the back alleyway, lips and limbs intertwining further with each passing moment.

"I don't know how adventurous you usually are," Hyunjin mumbled against her lips, "but I am really tired of waiting, sweetheart."

"Then don't wait."

Hyunjin didn't typically like mixing food with pleasure. It wasn't really his style. It felt childish to him in some way.

But when the meal was so eager, who was he to deny that hedonistic streak?

"Then don't wait” the words echoed in his brain.

Hyunjin groaned, biting at her lip in another kiss before speaking up.

"Are you sure? I'll have you right here if you let me."

"Fuck," she panted, losing herself in the way his fingers were slowly sliding up her thigh, under her skirt, "please. Give me everything."

=====

“Pick up pick up pick… fuck!” Felix cursed at the pre-recorded voicemail greeting. It hadn’t even rang. Desperate for help, he decided to call in back-up.

At least this call rang. It was quickly answered as well.

“Hey,” Jisung sounded so casual it made Felix a little jealous, “how’d the talk go?”

“I can’t find her.”

There was a beat of silence while Jisung thought of something suitably vague to say.

“I mean it’s a big place…”

Felix huffed, shaking his head.

“It feels wrong. Do you think you could come and… you know,” he hated to lean on stereotypes, but here he was, “smell her?”

“How does it feel wrong? What’s going on?”

Felix felt like crying. Fighting down the frustrated tears that threatened to well up in his eyes, he cleared his throat.

“I don’t know! I just…" he took a breath, "it feels wrong. Something is wrong and I don’t know what it is. I don't know how to help.”

“Woah, hey,” Jisung tried his best to sound comforting, “don’t worry about it, okay? I’m on my way. Five minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

Felix didn’t waste any time making his third call.

“Please tell me you have literally anything for me, Seungmin.”

“Her phone is dead,” Seungmin responded, “last pinged location was inside Sonar. And it looks like she isn’t wearing the ring.”

“Fucking hell!”

Seungmin kept quiet. Felix was typically the calm one. The one who could get the others to relax. Seungmin had never seen, or rather, heard him like this before.

Felix took deep breaths, trying to recompose himself before speaking again.

“Listen, pretend I’m Chan for a second, okay?”

“Okaaayyy?”

“Fucking find her,” he spat out the words, “and get me that fucking ring.”

"How am I suppo-"

Felix hung up on Seungmin.

=====

"You're so wet for me sweetheart."

Hyunjin had Tempawan facing the wall, one hand braced against the bricks, the other two digits deep inside her.

"Please," she begged, trying to keep somewhat quiet, "please please please please…"

"Don't you worry sweetness," Hyunjin whispered into her ear, "I'll give you everything you need."

Her knees buckled. Despite her increased appetite as of late, this was different. This man somehow was making her a complete mess. The others were usually so busy chasing their own release that she often left feeling unsatisfied, even as her temperature evened out.

But this man…

"Fuck," she whimpered, "I'm… please…"

"You're okay sweet girl," his voice dripped directly into her ear, "just cum once before we really start."

It didn't take much longer for exactly that to happen. Hyunjin felt it all. The tightness around his fingers, the jerk of her body against his. He bit his lip, enjoying the sounds she made as she slammed her hands against the bricks in front of them.

"You did so well," he kissed her shoulder, letting her catch her breath, "so good for me sweetheart."

Tempawan lifted her head, tilting back to settle the back of her head into the crook of his neck. She heard him groan, pressing his lips against her own neck.

"Can you keep going, sweetness?"

"Yes," she was still breathing heavily, but she needed more to satisfy the icy feeling under her skin, "please…"

"Perfect," he withdrew his hand from under her skirt. Carefully, not wanting to leave any residue on the outside of her clothing, he lifted it to his lips.

Tempawan turned her head and watched, a little in awe of the way he was enjoying himself. The way he was enjoying her.

"Good god sweetheart," he whispered after sucking his fingers clean, "did you know you taste like vanilla ice cream?"

And roses, he thought to himself.

"Are you willing to let me have more of you, sweet girl?"

"Please," she was willing to beg for it if she had to, but she suspected that she didn't.

Hyunjin gripped her waist, turning her now to face him.

"What a goddess you are," Hyunjin whispered. "Do you mind just a bit more foreplay, sweetness? I'm a bit of a biter."

"It's fine," she breathed, tensely waiting to feel him. "Bite as hard as you like. I just need you t- fuck."

He didn't need to be told twice. Leaning forward, he entered her, in more ways than one. In the only way that truly matters to a vampire, he entered her. Feeling the shock run through her body, he groaned as he felt her tighten around him.

Dipping his fingers back under her skirt, he felt her twitch around his digits again. Clamping onto her shoulder, his fangs broke her skin easily. He didn't know which sensation was more responsible for how she jerked against him.

At first, it was perfect. Roses and vanilla beans, silk and nectar.

Then something hit Hyunjin’s throat. A grassy taste that he knew was not hers.

That’s fine, he thought, I’m not the arbiter of her relationships.

=====

Jisung pushed through the crowd, tracing the faint trail of familiar mangosteen and… something less familiar, like a minty, fruity cocktail.

Chan followed close behind.

Jisung had tried to create a good enough excuse to stop Chan from coming along, but given the choice between Chan and Changbin, this had seemed like the better option.

Felix brought up the rear, feeling knots in his stomach as they moved. Despite the crush of bodies, there was a distinct chill that Felix felt the further they walked.

Jisung paused, reorienting himself. He knew what it looked like, but he didn’t care. There was something about that minty scent that was familiar, and it made him nervous.

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked as Jisung swiveled his head, trying to catch the direction of the smell.

“There’s a lot going on just…” Jisung closed his eyes, concentrating. A second later, his eyes opened again, shining a brighter yellowish color, “that way.”

=====

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Hyunjin’s eyes opened, lifting to see Jisung staring at him and Tempawan. He couldn’t help but smile, teeth still buried into her neck.

Then he saw Chan and Felix.

Quickly, he released his jaw’s grip on her.

“It’s just a hickey,” he whispered into Tempawan’s ear as he maneuvered behind her to face the others. “So you’re the one she belongs to, huh?”

She giggled, then shook her head. Eyes landing on Jisung, she smiled slowly. She felt incredibly warm and… snuggly? God I’d love a nap.

“You’re a real… fuck…”

Her knees buckled.

“Felix!” Chan called.

“On it!”

Jisung could have reached her first, but he was busy being held back by Chan. Hyunjin watched the four of them. Felix, tending to Tempawan with the knowledge of a field medic and the bedside manner of a therapist. Chan, barely struggling to hold back an increasingly feral Jisung. Jisung, working himself up and ranting.

“That’s the motherfucker Chan! I should have killed him! Let me the fuck go!”

“Not happening.”

Hyunjin could have left, but the fact that Chan was there had piqued his interest enough to stick around. For now at least.

“If it makes you feel better,” Hyunjin offered, “I wasn’t planning on killing her.”

“You could have fooled me,” Felix muttered before turning towards Chan and Jisung, “we need to get her to Minho.”

“I will end you!” Jisung was tearing at Chan’s hand. Literally, he could feel it in his bones. The ache was starting. His jaw ached with the slow elongation, and his voice was getting hoarse and deeper. “Let me go!”

“No,” Chan said, paying no attention to the claws digging into his skin. Readjusting his grip on Jisung, he locked the slowly transforming man against himself with one arm. Chan dug his other hand into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out his cell phone.

"I think I'll just be going," Hyunjin nervously chuckled and started shuffling backwards.

Chan didn’t look up as he searched through his recent calls.

"Lix, can yo-" 

"Got it," the blonde responded. He slammed a hand against the ground and his eyes fluttered shut.

Call Hyunjin a cat, because he was certain that one day his curiosity would get him killed. He already knew what Jisung was, and he had an idea about Chan. But the soft looking blonde one? He had no clue.

He didn't even notice the tendrils of roots that were winding around his ankles. Not until they constricted, causing him to lose his balance.

"You need to get over here…" Chan spoke into his phone, "make an excuse… Jisung needs your pills…"

To his credit, Jisung was still giving his all to get out of Chan's grip. He was well into the non-verbal stage now. His hands were closer to paws, which actually made it easier for Chan to hold him.

"Sonar, back alley… oh, give yourself an extra dose on your way… LT is here."

He dropped the phone back into his pocket.

"Felix? Can you keep an eye on Jisung?"

=====

Changbin stood up, sighing dramatically. To all the world, he looked like a man who had been called in to do inventory. Internally, he was panicking.

"Seems like they need an extra hand," he made the excuse easily enough. Half-truths were simple like that.

Hongjoong, who would describe himself as currently being in his cups, let out an annoyed sound.

"Sure, just take all the eye-candy away. First that girl, then Felix, now Bin."

"Hyung…" Mingi groaned.

"Sorry man," Changbin chuckled, "sounds pretty serious though."

Yunho stood as well, much to Seonghwa's annoyance.

"You need an extra hand?"

Changbin shook his head, pulling his coat on.

"No, nothing like that," he pulled out his wallet and dropped some bills on the table, "we've got a system. Anyway, that should cover a few rounds. Might be back later."

Changbin forced himself to move casually as he left.

"Mingi," Seonghwa spoke softly, just loud enough to get the younger man's attention, "how do you feel about espionage?"

=====

Chan had let Hyunjin go. Or rather, Chan had made Felix let him go. Or rather, Felix had begrudgingly followed Chan’s order to let him go. Hyunjin nervously kept an eye on the wolf that was now tangled in city-toughened roots as Chan led him to the open end of the alley.

"It seems like you know one of my boys."

It wasn't phrased as a question, but Hyunjin knew when he was being interrogated.

"Know is a strong word," Hyunjin explained, "we run into each from time to time."

Chan tilted his head, looking as unbothered as anything. He reached into his jacket again, this time pulling out a simple black cigarette case.

Hyunjin noted the silver reinforcements on the corners of the case. Old, probably expensive when it was made, and even more so now.

Hyunjin glanced up and down the alley, wondering how far he would make it if he made a run for it.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Chan interrupted his thoughts.

Hyunjin didn't recall Chan lighting his cigarette, but there it was.

"Jisung doesn't willingly change very often."

"Honest to god," Hyunjin sighed, "I don't know what his problem is. He's got some kind of grudge."

Chan nodded. He believed what Hyunjin was saying. Or at least, he believed that Hyunjin believed what he was saying.

"I won't blame you if you don't want the job. Cohesion is the goal, but I'll settle for civility."

"Not to be an asshole," Hyunjin couldn’t help but huff, "but that's more on him than me. I barely know the guy. As far as I know, he just hates vampires."

=====

"Sorry man," Felix muttered towards Jisung.

Jisung growled in response. If not for the somewhat muddy tendrils wrapped around his snout, he would have snapped at him.

When Chan and Hyunjin had walked a bit further down the alley to talk, Felix was left to tend to Tempawan and keep an eye on Jisung.

Not that Felix had to do much. Tempawan was stable enough for the moment, and Jisung was immobilized.

"Do you know that guy?" Felix asked.

Jisung huffed, then whined. He wriggled in his earthy bindings, snuffling as he tried to get closer to Tempawan.

"She'll be 'right mate," Felix reassured him.

=====

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Jisung couldn't exactly laugh, but his tail twitched at the way Changbin unknowingly mimicked him upon his arrival.

"Changbin, relax…"

Chan held a hand against Changbin’s chest. Changbin was keeping a remarkable amount of calm, all things considered. He was barely trying to get around Chan.

"Re… relax? Do you know who this motherfucker is?"

"We've talked."

"Oh! Oh, you've talked!" Changbin balked, "I see, I mean as long as you've talked I guess that's fine."

Hyunjin kept silent, mentally cataloging people he had possibly wronged to be called a motherfucker twice in thirty minutes.

"Just go help Felix."

For the first time, Changbin actually took in the scene at the other end of the alleyway. The little remaining calm he had dissipated as soon as his mind processed what he saw.

He took a step towards the three figures on the ground, then turned to look at Hyunjin.

"What did you do?"

Hyunjin was mesmerized by the green that sprung up in one of Changbin’s irises. It was a shade he knew all too well.

"I… nothing…" Hyunjin wasn't used to feeling off-balance.

"She's fine," Chan answered the real question. "Go help Felix and Jisung."

"She better be more than fine," Changbin growled, casting Hyunjin a lingering and exceptionally dirty look, "or it won't matter how much you two have talked."

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Demeter

Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter

Lucifer

Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?

Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!

Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!

It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.

She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…

The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).

In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…

But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…

Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…

At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…

Mammon

They make him a KILLING.

Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!

Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!

He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!

It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…

But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???

It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!

He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...

What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!! 

They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?

No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!

Leviathan 

Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.

That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…

He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?

For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...

They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!

He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!

He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?

The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…

He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…

Satan

Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.

He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.

That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)

There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.

He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!

They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏

Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…

The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)

That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!

Asmodeus 

Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.

When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.

Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.

At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...

Yeah, the MC would be fine.

That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!

Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.

He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.

His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.

Beelzebub 

Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.

They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!

Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.

To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….

Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).

The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…

If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)

Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile. 

The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?

His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone. 

He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…

He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… 😔

Belphegor 

Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!

He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.

… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers? 

Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.

When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.

Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…

He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.

Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...

He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…

Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...

They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...

[syndxlla]

Part nine of the More to Love series

Summary: Plans for the ball are in full swing, the concealment of your relationship with the knight dwindles and you make a deal with one another that leads to both of you learning a new and valuable skill

Word Count: 8.9k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: SMUT (oral sex F receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms), swearing, mentions of wounds

Author’s Note: and we’re back to your regularly scheduled royalty and princesscore writings. this chapter is very chill honestly, but i still really enjoyed writing it! there’s also the introduction of THE DRESS. y’all this dress is insane you really aren’t ready i am OBSESSED with this dress.

Part eight

“Are you listening, Princess?” You hadn’t even realized you had zoned out. Your cheek was bright red from resting against your palm, and your eyes had glazed over with boredom. You hoped you didn’t look too uninterested, but considering the literal Queen of Mandalore looked down at you with folded arms and one arched eyebrow, you were less than confident that you looked engrossed in the conversation.

The Queen, Lady Reeves and yourself have been inside a yellow-themed parlor all morning discussing plans for the ball. Your Knight stood patiently by the door, overseeing the entire meeting. You wore a long sleeve dress that was too hot for the summer sun, which was slowly drying out the mud and puddles from then two-day long rainstorm that no one predicted. You spent the entire day yesterday pretending to rest from the exhausting day previous, but you were really hiding your arm from everyone else. You tried to argue with Koska that a long sleeve in the middle of summer would look for more suspicious than a simple bandage on your bicep, but she disagreed to say the least. The Knight stopped limping this morning, although you were convinced he was just faking it for good measure. If others knew he was injured, it could raise suspicion that you were too. You also think he didn’t want you to worry about him. The stab wound really wasn’t that deep, but you knew it had to have hurt more than he was showing. You thought he should take a few days off to rest his leg and to really spend time with his son, but he refused to.

You look up from your emotionless stare out the window, which showed the sea in the distance. The ocean was so different here compared to what it’s like in Corellia. There are sandy beaches and the water’s warm, whereas back home, it’s often frozen over, and is lined with rocky fjords and coves. You wanted to go down to one of those beaches soon if you could. They looked relaxing and much more intruiging than a wordy meeting that you stopped listening in on Lord knows when.

“Sorry, I just… zoned out for a minute.” You clear your throat, looking up at the ginger above you. You bat your eyelashes, trying do play off innocent and truthful. She shrugged, and turned around to pull something out of Koska’s hands.

“I was saying that now that we have the food and decor arranged for the ball, we can talk about the important things.” She says as she whips around for the big reveal that you weren’t expecting: iher arms was the most extravagant, fluffy gown you had ever seen. It was a soft rose gold, the skirt was huge and round, tulle pillowing out from the bodice which had clearly been hand-beaded by nimble fingers to have five-pedaled flowers with curly vines growing out of them. There was a soft sweet-heart neckline, the lace and beading of the bodice came up past the structure to overlap where your skin would be, The sleeves were off the shoulder, which was common for Mandalorian summer gowns. The skirt had a soft hint of sparkles and real diamonds had been sewn into the centers of each flower along the gown.

You perked up as you saw the ornament, your attention being drawn from the crashing waves of the ocean to the prettiest dress you had ever seen. You think you sighed, but you weren’t really sure. Dresses have always been a part of your life, designers from all over the world would send you their best sets, and it’s rare for you to wear the same gown more than once. This isn’t the first time you had been presented with a dress that costed more than some of the houses in the kingdom, but there was something different about it. It had a special glow to it, unlike anything you had ever seen.

“Her Radiance Ahsoka brought it, it’s a wedding gift from the Woodland elves.” Koska speaks up when she sees your reaction. Both her and the Queen were amused at your childlike awe. “That’s why it has that shimmer, they used silk spinners and gold.”

“I… I can’t accept this.” You wanted to, but you were desperately trying to be humble and calm in this situation. The dresses never meant that much to you, it’s just a piece of clothing. You have always been far more into the politics that came with royalty, not the fashion, so this was a first.

“Well of course you can.” The queen chuckled, “It would be rude not to.” You wished you could tell her that wearing such an extravagance would feel in vain because you did not feel affection towards the person you’ll be wearing it for. However, you supposed she was right, it would be rude to turn down a gift from the literal elves. You stand up from where you sat, walking over the dress that took your breath away. You wondered what the Knight thought of it, and you turn around to look at him. You know that he wouldn’t show any type of reaction over this thing, especially if the Queen is watching, but you wanted to show him that you were thinking of him. You smiled, raising your eyebrows to really show how beautiful you thought the gown was, you’ll get to talk about it with him later. This is the second time Koska see’s something like this between the two of you, and she first looks at you, and the knight, raising a sharp eyebrow.

You place your hand over the fabric, running your palm over it. You did nothing to deserve this, but you were honored that it’s yours. “It’s like a faerie’s dress.” You sigh. “It’s wonderful, when can I thank her Radiance?”

“She’s out and about, she usually meditates in the gardens on sunny days, I can retrieve her, if you’d like.” Koska speaks up.

“Oh that’s alright, I’ll find her eventually.” You smile.

“Interesting that you brought up the fae…” The Queen brings up, “Allow me to ask, it is your engagement ball, is there anything specific you would like to have incorporated?” A few days ago, you would have had no answer, because a few days ago there was nothing about Mandalore worth it to you. However, things have changed. You’ve spent sleepless nights thinking about the boy in the beskar armor, and you would give anything to dance with him at that ball. You knew damn well that if you asked nicely, and maybe gave him head in return, he would do almost anything you asked. He would happily dance with you alone in the room after the events of the night, although you weren’t even sure if he knew how to dance. You did want to waltz with him, but not in that way.

So, last night you stayed up late, laying on your back with the balcony doors just cracked open to let in the smell fo fresh rain and a cool breeze into the hot room, thinking about him. You especially thought about the soft skin of his thighs and the way he shuddered when you raked your fingernails down his abdomen. But you also thought about how you could dance with him at the ball, where everyone could see. You knew that you would be dancing with far more people than Korkie, it would be many people’s last (and only) chance to dance with you before you’re married, and so you’re expected to give everyone the opportunity and attention they desired. It wasn’t your favorite thing you’d have to do, especially considering you would be dancing with a number of complete strangers and total creeps of Viziers, Grand Dukes and old viscounts who would probably whisper dirty things in your ear. And that is part of why you wanted this one thing for yourself so badly.

Dancing with a mysterious stranger wouldn’t be a problem. You wanted to share your affection towards him, and you especially wanted him to see you in your true element of balls and parties and gowns and tiaras. You knew it was risky, especially considering you can hardly control yourself around him, who knows what the crowd may be whispering as you dreamily look up at him. But after having to move and change your entire life, marry a man you resent in a kingdom that goes against everything you’ve ever believed in, you owe yourself this one thing. Just this one.

However, dancing with a literal knight would be far too suspicious and obnoxious for the biggest event in the western part of the world. And you knew that he would never remove his helmet, even if his life depended on it. It would be no easy feat to convince him to do something like that in such little time, but that’s when you got the best idea to have possibly ever cross your mind.

When you were just a little girl, your nursery caretaker would sit you on her lap when you had droopy, tired eyes, and read you a story. You can’t remember what it was called, it’s been so long since you heard it, but it was your favorite. It was the tale of the masquerade ball where the young peasant girl fell in love with the handsome magician. You were always drawn into it, because you once hoped you would fall in love with a mysterious and handsome man, too.The point of the story was that she never saw his face, as they both had on extravagant swan masks covering their eyes. If everyone had their face covered, it wouldn’t look suspicious if he did, too. You knew it would be a big thing to ask, and he may not even agree to it if the Queen approves of the short-noticed theme, but you wanted to live at least one night as the young peasant girl.

“Yes, actually.” You began to reply, “I would love for my engagement ball to be a masquerade.” You made sure to add in the ‘my’ to reinstate that it is for you. The Queen stopped to consider what you asked, and Koska looked suprised. It’s rare for anyone to ask the Queen for something like that out flat. But, she was the one who brought it up.

The Queen made you wait in suspense for her answer, and every fiber of your being wanted to turn around and wink at the knight to let him know that you asked for him, but even you, the naive princess, knew that you needed to be more careful with sharing your memories with him when others are around. “I suppose we could arrange that.” She thinks out loud, and you can’t stop the smile that stretches across your face. The Queen really only agreed because she knew it would cause more buzz and conversation around her last event as Queen. Even you could see that, but if it meant you would get a chance to share the memory with your guard, it was worth it.

“Your Majesty, forgive me, but the ball is this weekend, I fear we will not have enough time to prepare for such a change in plans…” Koska spoke up.

“Well, not if we don’t have everyone in the palace working double time,” Both yours and Koska’s faces dropped, that is not what you wanted at all. “Every servant will be required to make ten masks before the ball on Saturday. Knights are exempt, obviously.” She placed the rose gold dress back in Koska’s arms. You immediately felt guilty.

“Oh that won’t be necessary, Your Majesty, I don’t want everyone to-“

“Oh nonsense,” She interrupted, “I love the masquerade idea, it will be grand. It will be the envy of Coruscant.” Was everything a battle for her? An endless contest of who’s the best between Mandalore and Coruscant? If everyone had extra work to do on top of their usual load, you would feel absolutely terrible, but there would be no changing the Queen’s mind. “As the head of the servants, you will oversee the masks, Lady Reeves.” Your face was in shock, pale and sick. Koska shot you an annoyed glare. You tried to respond with an apologetic smile, but the Queen was speaking up again, pacing as she spoke. “Of course we need the royals to stand out from everyone else, we’ll already have our gowns but the masks will make a difference too…” She thought out loud. “Koska I would like an owl mask as per usual, there will be gems incorporated as well I trust?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” She was not amused with her new task.

“As for our little Princess,” She was referring to you, but you couldn’t even listen out of guilt. Everything you tried in Mandalore somehow backfired on you. “Her dress is lovely, but her mask must also be the most extravagant in the room, after mine, of course. It would also be best if hers and my nephew’s matched, Yes?” Koska nodded, struggling to hold the heavy dress with her small stature. “Lovely, aren’t you just full of surprises, Your Highness?” The Queen smiled at you, and you forced a polite smile. “Now, excuse me, I have a designer to meet with to get as many feathers and adornments for masks as possible.” The redhead hastily exits the room, her high guard following her, leaving just you and Koska with your knight.

“What the fuck was that about?” Koska asked afterwards.

“I didn’t mean for any of the extra work to happen, I swear.” You defensively respond.

“You just love giving me a hard time, don’t you?” She asks.

“No- that not at all what-“

“Let her be, Koska.” Your knight steps into the conversation.

“Ugh you knights are so frustrating sometimes.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, what is going on with you two?” She asks and your heart drops to your ass. Was it that obvious there was something more there? Your knight tensed up, too. “Yeah, I can see exactly what’s going on here. Would either of you like to explain?” She asks.

The two of you stood awkwardly like children who got caught stealing sweets from the kitchen. You wondered how you were going to get out of this one. Your entire world could come crashing down right now if you didn’t play this out correctly, and a thousand outcomes of this situation simultaneously played out in your head. Would she rat you out? Would it lead to your knights expulsion? Or would she keep it to herself? She seemed to have a history with your knight, although you didn’t know what that might be. Maybe she would be on your side, but you highly doubted it.

You blame yourself for all of this. You should have put a stop to all of this long ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. He has you tied around your finger, and you like it. You wondered what was going on through his mind, was he as nervous as you? He had to be, if not more worried about what would happen. Someone knowing about your secret relationship would only lead to you getting a tap on your knuckles and then they would try to hide it from society to keep your reputation clean, but it would be the end of his career and safety for him. You were selfish for this, and you knew it.

“What?” Is all your stupid mouth says. As if you hadn’t just had the most sporadic and stressful thought process of your entire life. After all that, the only thing you were able to come up with was “what?”. You thought your body might be shaking, but you weren’t totally sure. You wanted to look at the knight by your side, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Koska must have thought the same thing as you because after you just responded with an arrogant rhetorical question, her eyebrows raised like a mother angry with her teenage son. She scoffs, and walks to the other side of the parlor to place the gown down on a sofa. When her back was turned to you, you were somehow able to muster up the courage to look at the beskar-clad figure to your left. He didn’t look any different than, well, ever. Tall and broad and stoically looking ahead as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But you knew better. He had to have had a similar thought process to your own. He never turned to look back at you, and that’s when the guilt really set in. This could have been prevented. It should have been prevented. You fiddle with your sleeve.

Koska comes back too soon, her arms folded over her chest and the same unamused look on her stupidly perfect face. “So, one of you better start talking now, or else I’m going to get impatient and go catch up with the Queen to do your chore.” She nods to you. Why was she doing this? What did she gain out of knowing any of this? It could be to protect Korkie, although you found that seriously hard to believe. From what you can tell, Koska could care less about the Mandalorian Prince.

You sigh out of embarrassment mostly, but know that you are the one who needs to speak up. This was your mistake, and so it was your responsibility to fix it. “This is all my fault,” You have to clear your throat after beginning because of how uncomfortably your words sit in your throat. “I take full responsibility for everything. Don’t blame him for anything.” You nod. He turns his head to look at you after you say this, and you wanted nothing more than to look back at him, but Koska had your gaze trapped.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘everything’ and ‘anything’?” The lady-in-waiting asks.

You sigh again, knowing this was going to be hard to say. “I...allowed myself to be…” You carefully considered your word choice, “i-infatuated with the wrong man.” You finally get out. That was the first time you had said it in front of him, and only the second time you had said it outloud ever, the first being to the Elven Queen last week. “I shouldn’t have let it get so out of hand, but I fell under the spell of this Knight, and I don’t even know his name. I’ve never seen his face. In many ways, he’s a complete stranger to me.” You debated saying the next thing, but it just kind of spilled out, ‘A stranger who’s plagued my thoughts and actions since the day I got here.” It was hard for you to say, but there was something so liberating about saying it.

He never took his eyes off of you the entire time you spoke, but this time you were able to look back at him. Your eyes first looking down at the floor guiltily, and then they slowly make their way up his armor and to the visor on his helmet. You just looked there for a little bit while Koska processed what you were saying. You smiled genuinely at the knight, desperately trying to show him that everything you just said was true. For a moment, you weren’t sure if she was going to say anything at all, and the room fell silent.

“Well…” She begins, you can’t hear any disappointment in her tone yet, “You’re terrible at hiding it.” She sighs. Of all the things she could have said, you did not expect that.

“What?” You say like an absolute idiot for the second time. You look back at the woman.

“Look, I’ve known him for a long time.” She shakily breathes, looking at him, “We’ve actually been through a lot together.” He was still looking at you, “And honestly, Neither of us were ever cut out for the Royal life we’ve been living for a while now.” You wondered what she meant by that. “And to be frank, I could care less about your personal life.” She said to you about you, “But since he’s a friend, and you really don’t mean very much to me, no offense,”

“None taken.”

“I suppose I’ll just keep it to myself-“

The relief that overcame your body was unmatched. You can’t stop the grin that goes from ear to ear or the sigh of relief that danced on your lips and out of your lungs. You look over at him, who still hasn’t looked away from your face, but he sighs of relief, too. You see it in the way his armor shifts.

“-Under one condition.”

“Okay…”

“You have to start hiding it better, no more over the shoulder glances. Okay? This is me looking out for him.” She gestures to him with a nod. Was she really going to do this for you?

“No more glances, got it.” You repeat.

“There’s no telling what might happen to him if the wrong person finds out.” She clears her throat, and that statement scares you. You try not to let it take up too much of your thought. “And you have to act like nothing is different. You’re still engaged to the Prince and you’re still the future Queen-consort. I don’t give a damn about what happens behind closed doors, but when others are around you have to behave yourselves. This is me looking out for my kingdom, understood?”

“Understood.” You nod back, although you weren’t the biggest fan of that condition, you knew that was the price you had to pay to get what you wanted… well at least what you think you wanted. “You’re not going to tell the Queen?”

“If you do those things, she won’t hear a word about it.” Koska shrugs.

“And what about Korkie?”

“Stars, I cannot stand that boy. I don’t even talk to him.” She rolls her eyes and you chuckle. You’re happy you aren’t the only one who feels that way about the prince. “But I’m not going to cover or lie for you two, I’m not going to help you hide it or anything. Alright?”

“Of course.” You reply.

“Great. I have over five-hundered masks to make by Saturday, so I’ll be leaving now.” She finished and on her way out, she pushes the knight on the shoulder playfully.

The door closes.

“Stars.” You clear your throat and turn to look at him, before you can say anything, though, he’s picking you up by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of weightless flour, and carrying you over to the second sofa that isn’t taken up by a ridiculously large dress. You giggle when he does, blushing at his enthusiasm. You’re placed on your back and he kneels between your legs.

“You’re excited.” You chuckle and he hums in response. There isn’t very much room on the sofa but he makes his place. He then grabs the hem of your dress, pulling it up over first your thighs, then up past your hips, over the corset and up to your face. He covers your eyes with the skirt and it hides the cheesiest smile on your face. light still poured in from the fabric, but you weren’t able to see anything.

You then heard the sound of metal being placed on the floor next to you, and to your pleasant surprise, his lips and pressed tightly to yours through the fabric. The kiss obviously doesn’t make any contact, but you’ve learned that with the knight, it’s the thought that always counts. You’re smiling into the kiss like a dork, and you shudder when you feel his bare hands against your bare thighs. He pulls your legs open, and then pulls away from your separated kiss.

Your first moan comes when you feel his lips against your soft thighs. He licks up and down your right thigh first, his fingertips strong and faithful against the outer part of your legs. Your breathing hitches, and you hum with pleasure when he moves to your left thigh, taking the same amount of time to kiss, nibble and suck on your pillowy skin.

Then, before you can think any more about the heat and want in between your legs, he’s pulling down your petticoat painfully slow. You bite your lip, you knew where he was headed with this, and you were more than happy to welcome it. His index and middle finger run soft lines around your cunt, massaging the swollen and wet skin around your opening that only got wetter. Your clit begged for attention, but your arms were trapped under the position of the dress skirt, and you didn’t want to risk adjusting it in a way that would make him stop. You would have to patiently wait as he teased and prodded your lips, his free hand rubbing your thigh and occasionally making its way to firmly squeeze your ass cheek. Your breathing was needy and short as he took his time to get to know your core with the tips of his fingers, which were now wet and slick and making the friction smoother.

He then gently places a light kiss on your clit. It’s so soft that you’re only able to feel it because of how sensitive and hungry you are for that type of contact. You slightly finch when his lips touch the nerve, and you’re able to feel him smile against your skin. What you would give to see his face right now…. Then, before you can think any more, he’s licking a flat stripe up from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit where he flicks three times with the tip of his tongue. You gasp at the sensation, and try to suppress a moan. He then take his time to lick each separate lip of your sex, avoiding your actual opening but teasing in such an addictive way that you were willing to be patient for him.

The knight then finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, pulsing with his lips and flicking back and forth quickly with the tip of his tongue. You do moan this time, a broken cry falling off of your needy lips. It was a euphoric feeling unlike anything you’ve experienced before and you loved every moment of it. His arms wrap around your upper thighs, holding you in place around his head as he moves down to lap at your pussy lips. He moans at the taste of you, diving his tongue into your folds and prodding your sensitive clit with his nose.

You whine short and quietly as he does, biting your lip and bucking your hips every now and then as he took care of your sex. He must have gone down on you for close to ten minutes straight, never coming up for fresh air and never stopping the steady pace he had. You aren’t sure how you didn’t cum immediately at the feeling of his plump lips against your clit, but you also aren’t sure how you didn’t blackout from the sheer pleasure of the feeling. It was addictive, and it only got better after he pulled away to spit on your cunt. He spits onto your folds and then brings his fingers up again to start fingering you, sliding in his pointer finger with no resistance and slowly pumping it in and out. His mouth finds its way back to your slit, sucking on it as he fingers you. The sound was filthy, it filled the parlor with wet, obscene noises accompanied by breathy moans and gentle hums. Every time he hummed against your clit, your back arched from the added pleasure. The vibrating of it was pure euphoric, and you knew you were a sopping mess in between your thighs.

His chin was wet from spit and arousal and for one quick moment he pulled his wet mouth away from your core to kiss and rub the juices of your cunt on your thighs. He nibbles a few times on either thigh, marking each with a litter of purple and red hickeys. Before adding a second finger, he pulls his hand out to gently and playfully slap your cunt. He uses his wet hand to tap your core five or six times, each tap getting harder. You moan out at the feeling, and squeeze your legs together against the feeling in a horny attempt to get more pleasure from the moment.

“Huh, would you look at that?” He asks, his voice low and hungry and full of lust. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while, and the indulgence of the oral sex cause you to nearly forget how much you loved his rough voice. “Do you like it when I slap your cunt?” You whine in response. “With your words, Princess.”

“Yes, Sir.” You whine like a bitch. He chuckles and slaps it again, harder this time. You shudder at the feeling and feel your climax coming on. You want to delay it for as long as possible, but your thighs start to shake when he puts his mouth back in you and pushed both his index and middle finger into your opening, pumping and curling and twisting his wrist to make the most wonderful combination of finger-fucking you could of have imagined.

“I’m gonna cum.” You barely get out before your spine is burning and your stomach is flexing as you cum hard and long against his tongue and on his fingers. You cry out in broken, heavenly bliss, and look for something to grasp onto as you hit your high, but you can’t find anything, which leads to your sporadic back arches. You’re panting, and he doesn’t stop kissing against your core while you cum on his tongue. You bite your lip and swear you might make it bleed a little. His grip on your thighs tightens while he pulls you against his mouth, preventing you from pulling away from the addictive exhilaration that is his kiss.

He licks you through the entire orgasm, and then some after. You think you’re being over-stimulated but you never have been before, so you aren’t really sure. Just when you think he’s going to stop, he doesn’t and he just takes his sweet old time lapping against your core and slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. You sharply breath in, your chest heaving against the dress and you desperately want to pull your dress down to see him and breath freshly again. The way he eats you out is so methodical, like he’s done it a thousand times (which wouldn’t necessarily surprise you), like it’s the only thing he’s ever eaten or the sweetest honey to ever grace his lips.

It begins to turn you on again, the pleasure shooting into your spine and down your littered thighs and melting against your clit. You can feel the gentle rub of his fingers against your thighs, stroking your skin as he takes you in. It’s heavenly and is the only thing you can think about. Your thoughts go numb and the only important thing in the entire world is the curly-haired boy at your expense.

You mutter and whisper swears, dirty words that aren’t meant to come out of a princess’ mouth but you can’t help it when you’re seeing white hot behind your eyes. He groans a few times too before his fingers speed back up to the pace they were at before you came the first time. Your dainty hands stroke lightly on your collar-bones as the pleasure fills your soul, licking your lips and trying to hold on for as long as possible before you cum again but you can already feel your second orgasm coming on. He uses a third finger to outline your lips, coating the tip in your slick and then slowly inserting the third and final finger into your cunt, helping you chase that final hit of release. The stretch is amazing, and you were surprised you were able to take it so well. This is when you realized that he’s been training you for something much bigger. The first time he fingered you wasn’t even any penetration, the second time was two fingers, just enough to stretch you that it hurt the right amount, and now this time, three fingers that felt amazing. You remembered the size of his cock, you knew it would be a challenge to take, but he was making sure you would be able to handle it and enjoy it as much as he will.

His focus goes from licking your clit to the fingers inside. He twists his wrist to make the curl and stretch your entrance. He collects the wetness and lets it make the glide and pump smoother. You’re so drenched and needy that the fluid is running out past his fingers and dripping onto the sofa cushion, staining it with your lust. He nips so slightly at your clit and just like that, your whole world comes crashing down. The orgasm is actually mind-numbing this time, and all you can do is moan and sob and claw at your own skin. Your scratch into your shoulders and collar-bone and it’s deliciously painful. Your thighs clamp against his head and he continues to finger you long and hard through the climax, cleaning your folds up as you cum against his tongue and fingers. You’re finally able to catch your breath, painting with droopy, lustful eyes but feeling completely fulfilled. He cleans up all the juices around your entrance, collecting the cum on his tongue and happily swallowing it down like it’s his last meal. You aren’t able to see it, but he then puts his fingers into his mouth, cleaning off the three that were knuckle-deep into your cunt. He groans at the taste, and wipes his mouth before planting one last, gentle kiss to the soft, angelic skin of the mound between your legs. You're so sensitive that the light kiss makes you flinch, and he chuckles at the involuntary reaction.

He puts his helmet back on and then pulls your dress skirt down to see your face. You’re surprised by the light initially, and you blink a few times to adjust to it. Your lungs fill with crisp air and you look at your favorite sight: the helm of the knight you think you’re falling in love with. You can’t stop the smile on your face. He chuckles and then readjusts your dress to cover you up better. He takes such good care of you. You see him freeze when he sees the scratch marks on your skin, and his bare hand softly runs over the red lines, outlining the marks. You blush at him, looking up at his expressionless face with a puppy-love look.

“Everytime I think it can’t get any better, you prove me wrong.” You sigh. Every orgasm has been better than the last.

“Just you wait.” You hear the smirk under the helmet and it causes butterflies to flutter in your tummy. You sigh, still catching your breath and you just take him in, looking up at how he’s propped up above you. He has hands on either side of your head and he’s just a brudding force of metal and sex and good kissing and caring about things that you didn’t even know you needed someone to care about. You probably look like a dork just smiling up at him but you don’t even care and now your hands are free to wrap around his neck and you just wish you could see his face and kiss it all over right now.

Your fingers lock behind his neck and the positioning of his armor and the way his head is bent makes it so you can just barely feel the skin of his neck. You move your index fingers up to look for the curls at the nape of his neck. You think you could sing out when you found the prize: some strands of dark, brown, thick hair hidden under the helmet. You twirl them around your fingers and that action alone is worth a million kisses. The feeling in your heart is second to none and you wished you could stay in this still moment forever.

“Did you mean what you said?” He speaks up in reference to what you told Koska about him.

“Every word of it.” You state, genuinely meaning it as you said it. He did respond but something told you he was smiling under all that armor. He sighs, and then lets his arms go weak so he’s falling onto you. You groan at the surprise and the sheer weight of both his broad body and the heavy armor on top. The air is pushed out of your lungs but at least he’s pressed into you, your hands still toying with his curly hair. You can hear him chuckle, and you wanted to freeze time.

“Someone’s gonna see us if we stay like this.” He mutters as you tilt your head to have it rest on top of his helmet.

“Then let them.”

He doesn’t reply to what you say, and you debate if it was even the right thing to say. When you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted, it’s hard to grasp the concept that someone may not want the same thing. You’re selfish for not caring about his safety and status in these types of situations. He grunts as he pushes himself back up and stands again, leaving only you on the sofa.

“How’s the arm?”

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes, you don’t want everyone to worry so much anymore.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You reply more forcefully this time, sitting up on the couch.

“Just making sure.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You sigh, and consider your next words, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.” You sit with your palms flat against the cushion, making aware of the wet spot on the fabric and smirking fondly at it.

“Anything, your Highness.” He nods.

“Well… I wondered if maybe I could teach you how to dance?” You were nervous about what his response may be.

“Oh Stars-“ He chuckles.

“What!?”

“I had a feeling that masquerade might have something to do with me.” He puts his hands on his hips like he’s scolding you but there’s a guilty part of you that you like about it.

“Well it isn’t just about you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“...no.” He already knew you so well. He chuckles at your response. “So… what’s your answer?”

“Dancing isn't my style…”

“I don’t believe that.” You tilt your head. “Come on, it’s super easy and it would mean a lot to me.” You try convincing. He sighs and considers what you’re offering. “I can give you something in return…” You bite your lip, teasing. He chuckles just once.

“Alright-”

“What!? Really??” You stand up from excitement, you weren’t really expecting him to agree.

“But, only if you let me teach you something in return.” You nod in agreement, your hands coming to fold in your lap. You were expecting him to refer to something sexual, but his words prove you wrong, “I wanna teach you how to fight.”

“What?” Why would you ever need that?” It’s rare for royals to learn such a skill, especially princesses. You understood that it would be valuable, but you weren’t completely sure if you were up to the task.

“Well more than anything, I want to teach you how to defend yourself. So something like Keldabe doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay…” You were tentative to agree.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, “If it means I get to dance with you at the ball, I would be more than happy to learn.”

“Great. Let’s start then.” He takes a step back and holds his hand out for you to take.

“What?” You place your palm in his and he pulls you up off the couch, “right now?”

“Yes, c’mere.” You were nervous and honestly your legs were still weak from cumming twice, but you follow him as he begins to talk. “I’ll just teach you a few things and then you can teach me how to dance I guess.”

“Stop being a pill.” You tease.

“Only if you stop, too.” He teases right back at you which leads to a scoff from your lips. He ignores you. “When you're defending yourself, you always wanna protect your face, okay?”

“Protect my face, got it.” You repeat. He holds his arms up in front of his helmet, his hands fisted.

“Mimic my pose.” You roll your eyes but mirror him, holding your arms to guard your face. “See, is that so hard?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.” He sarcastically replies. “You can’t do much if you can’t see, so that’s why you gotta protect your face. If you wore a helmet you wouldn’t need to do this.”

“But I would always be wearing a helmet…”

“It’s not so bad.” He shrugs.

“Something tells me that you don’t believe that.” You drop your arms from your face to say that, which was obviously a mistake, because instead of responding to your claim (which was probably right), he's jabbing his arm out towards your face. He’s not close enough to hit you but the quick and unexpected action is enough to startle you back. You lose your balance and fall down on the ground, wincing when you hit the ground and regretting agreeing to this. Your arms wrap into a frustrated position and you frown up at him. You look up at him surprised and a little pissed, and he just starts laughing. “What was that?”

“You let your guard down.” He says between laughs. He does hold his hand out for you to help you back up, and you take it to your own dismay. He hoists you up quickly, and you have to re-establish your balance.

“You are impossible.” You put your arms back over your face, ready to try again.

“You like it.”

“Are you gonna teach me or not?” He wasn't wrong but you figured you’d have to try and beat him at his own game.

“Are you gonna let me?”

“Just go.” You roll your eyes again.

“This will also protect your ribs. Can’t do much if the wind is knocked out of you, either.” He explains. “You also want to stand wide, it’ll help you keep your balance.” He kicks your feet out to be shoulder width which breaks every rule in the book of princess manners. “And prevent… falling on the floor.”

“This isn’t exactly easy to do in a corset, you know.” You argue.

“And dancing won’t be easy in armor but here we are.” He shrugs, and you suppose he’s right. Neither of you are cut out for the tasks at hand. “When fighting someone without armor, you’re gonna want to go for their face, their eyes are vulnerable and you can do real damage on their nose.”

“Okay….” You try to remember what he was saying, making a mental note for any future situations, although you’re still skeptical. “And what about someone with armor on?” You ask, trying not to show the smirk on your face.

“Well the guy in Keldabe did everything right, he found where the weak points of my armor was and attacked them-“

“So here?” You ask before reeling back your arm and swinging it as hard as you can into his shoulder where there was only chain mail. Your fist crashes into the metal, and you immediately regret it. “Shit!” You pull your hand back and look at your bright red knuckles, shaking your hand a few times as you try to brush the shock away.

“...Yeah, right there.” On the bright side, he seemed to be surprised by it enough that he made a little groan from the contact that turned you on way more than it should have. “But now you fucked up your hand.”

“You think?” You place the angry knuckles at your mouth, trying not to be too upset about the pain shooting through your hand.

“Punching chainmail is always gonna hurt, especially if you do it wrong… like that.”

“So how do I do it right!?” You’re determined now. No one has ever put you in your place, you’ve always gotten what you wanted, and you wanted to prove to him that you could do it.

“Why are you so eager to inflict pain on me?” He asks, you can hear the teasing in his tone but you can’t blame him for feeling that way. Perhaps you did come off a little anxious.

“I don’t know… I guess I just want to prove something to you.” You sigh, still pissed off by the pain in your hand. You’re so distracted by it that you hardly notice him walking towards you. His gentle and soft bare hands take your fist away from your mouth. You’re tentative at first, but let him take it in his hand, cupping it in between his and looking down at your red skin. You frown mostly out of frustration, but the pain is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Princesses aren’t supposed to feel pain.

Before you can blink, he pulls his top hand away and takes it to lift up his helmet just above his lips. The angle makes it so you can’t see any of his face but you understand. He bends down and kisses your knuckles in the same fashion one would when greeting you, but this was so much more intimate. His lips were like satin against your skin and the butterflies in your stomach fly right back. The physical pain didn’t go away, but the anger around it did. Your heart softened and wished he would kiss your lips but he’s already pulling the beskar back over his jaw. You sigh from the gesture, he was so romantic and you don’t even think he’s trying to be. He’s just trying to be kind and patient with you and it’s doing something to your heart that you don’t know if you can handle anymore.

“So… how do you waltz?” He asks, his hand still holding onto yours. You smile and sheepishly look down at your feet. You were unsure of how to begin, but were happy he was willing to learn.

“Okay.” You smile, “Well, you first need to loosen up. Stop being so stiff.” He tilts his head like you’re speaking a foreign language. “Like this.” You press your hands down on his shoulder pauldrons, he tries to rest them but fails and you chuckle just a little. “Roll them back.” You explain and do it yourself, he attempts to follow, and actually is able to relax a little bit more this time. Knights are always so stiff, you think it will be good for him to relax every now and then. “Good, now this hand goes here…” You lift his right hand to rest on your waist and he immediately settles into it, already feeling more comfortable now that he is holding you. You place your left hand on his shoulder, pulling your bodies a little closer together. He wanted your torsos to be flush against one another, “No, we have to keep our distance so we have room to do the steps.” You explain.

“Well that’s no fun.” He sighs. You blush and giggle.

“If we get this done I promise you can hold me as long as you want.” You tilt your head trying to make a fair compromise.

“Fine.” He’ll take it.

“Great, now we hold these hands.” You take his left hand and hold it into yours. “That’s the basic position, I learned it as home position, got it?”

“Home position…?” He repeats.

“Mhm.” You nod, your faces are close and you would give anything to feel his breath against yours. “It’s important that we sort of… ‘glide’ like we bounce as we dance, it will make it prettier.” He was convinced you were always pretty no matter what you tried or did, but we guessed he would comply this time. Your voice goes quiet and soft, the mood immediately changing from teasing to harmonious. “And your feet… okay this is sort of complicated but your left foot will go forward as my right goes back-“ You keep looking down at the floor as you try to explain the steps but his gaze is on your face, hardly listening to what you're saying and only being engulfed in your face and the way you talked about doing something you loved. You were so beautiful and you didn’t even know it.

You must have been talking for a while without really listening to yourself because he was slowly pulling you into his torso and closing the space without you really noticing that you were inches closer than you were before. “-and then your left foot will slide to meet your right foot-“ the last word fades out as you slowly look back up to his face which was now up close to yours, your bodies pressed together and both of his hands on your hips, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your back. Your heart skips a beat and you forget how to breathe as you look up at him and it just felt… right.

Your hands lift from his pauldron to his helmet and you want to take it off so badly. You knew it was too fast still, and he would remove his helmet for you when he felt like he could. At least that’s what you hoped for. It should be his decision, no one else’s. But your hands are grazing the bottom of the beskar and everything feels so right. He’s so still and his breath is quiet and for just a moment you think he might let you and then-

The door knob is turning slowly and both of you are splitting away all too fast, trying to make enough space between the two of you so it didn’t look suspicious. You both scramble, trying to put yourselves back together. The still and perfect moment was entirely gone when Prince Korkie opened up the door into the parlor. You tried not to look too shocked when his stupid perfect hair and young face looked on you. The knight held his hands behind his back to hide the fact that they were bare and side-eyed the gloves on the sofa that laid by the wet stain on the cushion. He silently prayed that the Prince wouldn’t notice them.

“Ah, princess I was wondering where you were.” He looked between the two of you. He didn’t seem too suspicious, thank the stars.

“Korkie! What are you doing?” You awkwardly laugh. Your hands fold at waist level, and you fix your posture.

“Did… I walk in on something?” He asks and your whole body goes numb. You swallow and try not to pass out. The truth is yes, he did walk in on something very important to you, but here we are.

“Oh! No, we were just…” You search around the room looking for something to take the attention away from you and the knight, “Admiring the beautiful dress the Elves gave me!” You walk to the heavy, iridescent gown on the clean sofa, picking it up to show him. You smile desperately, hoping that would be enough.

“Ah yes! It is beautiful, isn’t it?” He nods, smiling. You sigh of relief when he falls for the bait. You set the dress back down.

“Can I do anything for you?” You ask,a king sure there was no attention on the knight being you.

“I… just wanted to spend a bit of time with you. My aunt informed me of the changes to the Ball. What a wonderful idea!”

“Why thank you.” You smile, taking a few steps towards him in a hopeless attempt to not seem so suspicious.

“Yes! I had just received the RSVPS from a number of the guests. Your parents, the twins of Naboo, the senator of Alderaan and Princess of Chandrila and I’m pleased to say that we’ve found no suspicion of any attack from Coruscant!” Stars, he talks a lot. You aren’t sure how he can have any more breath to talk. You were starting to decide that you liked the boys who were more reserved.

Well… one boy.

“Oh… Um, of course. That’s great news.” You nod and finish your walk towards him, suddenly hyper-aware of the fading scratches on your collar bone.

“Come with me, we should review the letters together.” You look back at the knight apologetically before walking into the hallway with the Prince. This isn’t exactly how you hoped your afternoon would go...

-

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“If you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interact with the post you are tagged on (ex. Reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

-

Part ten

[songficsbyrissi]

You’re Mines Still (Erik X Reader)

“They say time heals She can't see her life without me, she's so blind still Fuck that nigga, you can tell him that you're mines still” - Yung Bleu feat. Drake

A/N: heyyyy y’all! Back from the dead again! 🤣 here to drop my shit and dip as always. I’m trying to stop that, I swear. Hennyways, I wanna put a disclaimer here: I have nothing against MBJ. I couldn’t care less about the nigga but I thought it’ll be interesting to have this nigga as the boyfriend, instead of making a character up in contrast to Erik. I think it’s perfect because I’m pretty sure they’re two completely different niggas. And I know “mines” isn’t proper English but I’m going with the title of the song so don’t start with me 😂😂😂 Aight imma let y’all read lol. Hope you enjoy it!

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

You were doing it again.

You found yourself observing your boyfriend Michael, and comparing him to your ex, Erik. Right now, Michael came into the kitchen and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek to say good morning. It was sweet and nice but Erik would’ve grabbed you by the waist, pulled you in for a long, juicy kiss, followed by a smack on the ass. You found yourself low-key missing that, but you moved on so you had to let that go.

“Michael?”

“Yes, cookie?”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. It was a cute nickname, but ever since you told him your favorite dessert was chocolate chip cookies, here this nigga go, making it your nickname.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“You seem so distant, babe. What’s on your mind?” He asked from his seat at the table.

You avoided eye contact with him. “Nothing. I’ve just been tired.”

He snorted at this. “It’s because you work too much. I told you to chill.” He got up from the table and kissed you on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll see you later. I gotta go to the office.”

“Bye.” You said faintly as he walked out of the door. That was another thing. Erik could tell when something was bothering you and knew you avoided eye contact when you were lying. Michael just let anything you tell him slide. At this point, you could have a gunshot wound in your stomach and tell him you were fine and he’ll believe it.

You sighed deeply and got your things together so you could go back to your place. Michael asked you to move in with him, but you knew you weren’t ready for that. Not with him.

On your way to your apartment, you remembered you needed to do some grocery shopping, so you pulled up to the supermarket and pulled out your list of essentials on your notes app. The supermarket wasn’t too busy, thank God. You were able to weave back and forth through the aisles with ease. You got to the soup aisle and the broth you needed was all the way on the top shelf. You looked to the side to make sure no one would see you embarrass yourself. Before you could climb, a man’s arm reached up, grabbed the carton of broth, and handed it to you.

You smiled softly. “Thank you so much. I was about to embarrass myself climbing this shelf.”

“I could see that.” The man replied in a familiar voice that caused you to break your neck to look at him.

“Erik....” you breathed nervously once your eyes fell on him. He was still fine as always. The day you run into him, he would be wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An outfit that gets any girl’s faucet running. You wanted to sneak a glance, but you stopped yourself because you knew he would catch it.

He licked his bottom lip and looked you up and down. Damn him.

“Hey ma...it’s been a while.”

You nodded, looking down at your shopping cart. “Yeah, it has....”

“You still fine as hell.” Erik cracked a smirk and you were getting more and more nervous under his gaze. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You decided to breathe and ignore his statement. “How have you been, Erik?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which something he always did when he was nervous. Holy shit, he was nervous around you. Why did that bring a pang of joy into your heart?

“I’ve been chilling. I'm still an architect. Still designing houses and getting people to buy them. It’s been aight. I’ve been successful.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “That’s good. I’m glad everything is going good in your career.”

“Yeah, it is. If only you were with me to see it all.”

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “Erik-“

“I should’ve never let you go, Y/N. You were a good ass woman and you motivated me. I know I messed up but-“

“Erik, I’m kinda seeing someone else right now.” You spat out, preventing him from continuing the monologue he had going. He seemed taken aback by your outburst. Then came denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance all on his face.

“I’m sorry, Erik but I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Michael and he’s great. I figured you should know that.”

Erik let out a dry laugh in response and held his hands up in defense. “Yeah, you know what? I should’ve. A woman like you, of course, a nigga gonna snatch you up. That’s my fault. I hope he treats you well.”

“He does.” You swallowed hard and pushed your cart forward. “You take care of yourself, Erik. I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t wait for a reply. You just continued pushing until you heard his voice.

“You too, Princess.”

You stopped in your tracks for a bit, hearing that nickname for the first time in forever but you continued on your journey, refusing to look back at your ex.

You wrapped up your grocery store trip and went home. Even while you were cooking for your new man, Erik was still on your mind. You couldn’t help but think about all the times you had with him. One memory came back to you and you cringed. The night you two broke up.

“All you can think about are these damn houses! What about our house, Erik?!?!” You screamed coming closer to him, with your fists clenched. “What about all the shit you promised me?!”

“You’re still getting it, Princess! I promise!” He tried to pull you in a hug, but you pushed him away. All you saw was red. You didn’t want him touching you. You stuck a finger in his face.

“Bullshit! I’m tired of your empty-ass promises! I’m better than this! I’m better just being your damn girlfriend for all these years! It’s either you’re wanna be with me forever or you don’t! It’s that simple!”

Erik gathered up all the anger building to yell back. “No! It ain’t that simple! You just don’t get it.” Your angry demeanor softened at his words and you took a seat on the leather sofa. You wanted to cry because this shit was so fucking frustrating. You looked up at him with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Help me get it, Erik. Please. Because I just don’t.”

Erik took your trembling hands into his larger hands. “I just...I just don’t see myself as your husband right now. I got a lot of shit to work out before I can make that type of commitment to you, ma. I just need you to understand that and stick with me. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen. I’m just saying now’s not the right time.”

As much as you tried to prevent it, it happened. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Erik began wiping them off, but you backed away.

“You keep saying that. When is the right time, huh? When?” You asked then sneered once you saw that once again, he couldn’t supply you an answer. “Just admit it, Erik. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to get a house with me, you don’t want to have kids with me. You don’t...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say this. “You don’t want forever with me. Now I get it.”

Erik shook his head vigorously as you rose from the sofa and he grabbed your hand. “No, baby girl! You’re not getting it! I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

You used your free hand to wipe some more of your tears. “You don’t love me the way I love you, Erik. I’ve been dying to be your wife, but you don’t want to be my husband. So I’m not gonna waste time with you when I can find someone who will.”

You released yourself from the grip he had on you, both figuratively and literally, and packed all your shit up. Despite the protests and guilt-tripping coming from Erik, you still made it your mission to get the fuck out of his apartment and get the fuck out of his life.

After mourning and healing from the loss of your long-term relationship, you met Michael. He was a nice man who looked similar to Erik but was completely different, personality-wise. Your friends noticed how much Michael looked like Erik, but they decided not to bring it up because they knew you would deny it. You were in denial, convinced it was all a coincidence. Deep down, you knew damn well he looked like Erik.

However, he was nothing like him and you thought that would work out in your favor. It didn��t.

You laid wide awake in Michael’s bed. He fell asleep after one round of sex and you were not satisfied. The sex was good, but one round??? Erik used to go at least 3 a night. Erik also would spoon, but Michael was turned away from you, snoring away. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and you picked it up to see a text from your ex. You sat up in shock and opened it.

Erik:

Ik I shouldn’t b but I can’t stop thinkin bout u. I never stopped.

You took a deep breath and fixed your thumbs to respond.

You:

I’m with someone else, Erik. U gotta respect that.

Erik:

I do I just don’t like it. Can we at least be friends?

You contemplated your answer, then constructed a text back.

You:

Fine. We’ll be friends.

Erik:

With benefits? 👀

This caused you to stifle a laugh that would’ve been loud enough to wake up your boyfriend.

You:

Lmao no! Just friends, Erik.

Erik:

Lol I’ll take what I can get. Good night, Princess ❤️

After that last text, you were smiling yourself to sleep. It didn’t take long for Erik to invite you to group outings with mutual friends to eventually just you and him. It felt wrong but felt so right at the same time. You were alone in Michael’s apartment once again when Erik hit you up asking if you would like to see a house he built that was being pulled off the market. You agreed since you had nothing else to do. It’s just a house.

Needless to say, The house was gorgeous.

“Shittttt look at this fucking closet!” You cooed, entering the large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and turned around to look at Erik with an enormous smile on your face. “Erik! You did that shit! This is my dream house! If I had the money, I would buy it right now!”

Erik chuckled with his arms folded. “It’s already bought, Princess.”

You scrunched up your face in disappointment as you stood against the marble island table in the middle of the room. “Ughh for real? I bet they don’t even like it like that!”

���Nah...I do.” He walked up to you slowly.

It didn’t click for your slow ass what he just said. “Of course you like it. You designed it.”

“Nah, we designed it.”

A record scratch went off in your head and you turned to see Erik right next to you. You gazed into his eyes to see an emotion you couldn’t describe. He saw confusion in yours.

“You ain’t noticed how this house is exactly your dream house? Everything you wanted in a house is right here. Baby girl, after you left me, all I could think about you and us and how I fucked us up. I was designing other houses and buildings, but there’s one that was most important to me that I never focused on and that was ours. I remembered our discussions and you didn’t know it, but I took notes of everything we wanted in a house. I finally had the motivation to get it designed, built, and bought.”

Erik built a house for you. He actually listened to you. Even when you thought he wasn’t, he was listening to every detail of what you wanted. You had so many questions to ask, but you were speechless. What were you supposed to say to this?

“I don’t want you to think I was on some creepy nigga shit because I wasn’t. It’s just that this design was gonna go to waste and I was going to let them sell it to the highest bidder, but I just couldn’t. This house was the last piece of you I had left. If I sold it, it was like me officially giving up on the possibility of us. I still had that hope. I’m a stupid ass nigga, I know.”

Your right hand grasped his left hand and he finally spared you a glance to see unshed tears in your eyes.

“I wanted this....from you....for so long. For so long! Why are you giving it to me now?! When I have someone else?!” You threw his hand out of frustration and exited the closet. You didn’t make it far. You just went into the master bedroom and cried your eyes out. You waited so long for this and he’s giving it to you now? When Michael was in the picture? Well, It’s too damn late.

Erik got on his knees and grasped your knees. You stared at him through the tears in your eyes.

“I know you’re building a life with this nigga, but stop. Stop that shit. You know he ain’t the one for you. Fuck that nigga. You’re mines still.” Erik was pleading with you. He began to shed a tear. Holy shit, he meant every word. “Baby, I’m on my knees. Take me back.”

Your ex began planting tender kisses on your knees and traveled up to your thighs, still holding you. Your heart raced at his actions, but you didn’t want him to stop. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. As much as you tried to lie to yourself, you still loved him.

“Erik, get up.”

He obeyed and you took his face in your hands, caressing the sides.

“You’re such a fucking manipulative motherfucker and I hate that I love you so fucking much.”

Erik took your hands into his and kissed the insides. “I ain’t trying to manipulate you, baby. I swear I’m not. I love you and I just wanted you to know that I heard you. You just wanted a nigga to show you that he was serious about you. I get it. While you were gone, I focused on myself and fixed myself because I admit I was dragging my ass with doing that while we were together. It was because I thought you were here to stay so I had all the time in the world to get my shit together. When you left, I saw that I was wrong. I was wrong as fuck.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him keep talking.

“I love you, baby. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, but if you say no, I’ll sell this house and leave you alone for good. I swear on my Pops’ grave, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, Y/N.” His words were so heartfelt. “I don’t wanna go unless you make me.”

You were hyperventilating through your tears, then a smile formed across your face. “Erik, I love you. I love you so much, baby.”

Erik tackled you with frequent kisses on your lips and it turned into a whole passionate make-out session. He planted kisses all over your neck while he unbuttoned your blouse and you could feel his hard dick through his pants.

“Fuck. I missed this. I missed us.” You breathed when his lips met yours, once again.

“I missed us too, baby.” Erik rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes with so much love. “Be my wife.”

You backed away from him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Marry me, baby. I don’t wanna waste any more time.” He saw the look on your face and his joyful expression turned somber. “You don’t want to marry me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, Erik. I always wanted to but just because we getting back together doesn’t mean I wanna rush into a marriage. We gotta fix us first. We can’t even fix us right now because I still have to break up with Michael.”

Erik put a hand through his hands and blew air out of his mouth. “You right.”

“And the way you asked sucked.” You deadpanned but found yourself laughing afterward and he face palmed himself. “Seriously? After all this time, I deserve a better proposal than that.”

Erik chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “You right. Once again. Imma do better.”

And when he said he would do better, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the proposal.

“You better. I ain’t giving you a third chance. This ain’t baseball!”

This caused him to guffaw, pull you into a tight, loving embrace, and kissed you once again. He had a grin on his face that rivaled the Cheshire cat.

“You’re mines still,” Erik said as a statement and a question.

“Yep. I never stopped being yours, baby boy.”

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(Sorry if you got double tagged or I missed you. I need to get my tags together I know )

[notquitetwilight]

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART ONE

The Cullanos head to Boston to take care of some business.

“Well?” Carlisle Cullano asked his wife from across the table. “How does Boston pizza compare to Jersey pizza?”

“It doesn’t,” Esme answered her husband automatically. “Especially not ours.”

“Typical Jersey girl,” he smirked. He looked to their daughter beside her. “Rosie?”

Rosalie wrinkled her nose, looking up at him from the slice she was chewing on. “It’s too thick. I don’t like it. But then again, Jersey pizza doesn’t compare to New York pizza, either.”

Esme gave a deep sigh and threw her daughter a look. “Really?”

“What? You know I’ll always be a Manhattanite.”

“You were born in Jersey City Med,” Esme pointedly reminded her.

“Where I was abandoned,” Rose said slowly. “…To be raised in Manhattan.”

“You weren’t abandoned at the hospital,” Carlisle countered.

“She wasn’t abandoned at all!” Esme hissed before he could continue. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

“I know, I know, you were just kids, younger than I am now,” Rose waved the hand that wasn’t holding a pizza slice dismissively. “I’m over it. But I don’t know why you always get mad at me for saying I’m a New Yorker when you’re the ones who chose not to raise me in Jersey. Well, chose not to raise me at all.”

A tense silence fell over them. Rose lowered her eyes to the table of their booth as she continued chewing. Esme glowered out the window, her jaw clenched. Carlisle nudged his foot against her leg in an attempt to comfort her, but she ignored him.

It was a little over a year since the couple had gotten their daughter back. Though she had left her adoptive family and seemed to have settled into their lifestyle, the topic of their lost time together still occasionally raised its head.

The couple had had her at the tender age of 17, unbeknownst to their families. Both of them decided they were too young, too broke and already too involved in the mafia game to raise her themselves. She was adopted by the Hales, a wealthy couple of lawyers who raised her in a Manhattan townhouse and gave her the finest private education New York City had to offer. Carlisle and Esme secretly watched her grow from park benches and the back of school auditoriums. They never interacted with her or allowed her to see them, but watching her grow up safe and happy from a distance filled the void that giving her up had left.

Well, it did, until it didn’t. A year and a half ago, right before the couple finally married, Esme’s sister gave birth to her first child. The family rejoiced in the arrival of the baby boy, with Esme’s mother proudly parading her “first grandchild” around. “Aren’t you jealous, Esme?” Mrs. Platt had asked at the wedding. “You hate it when others have something you don’t.”

“No, mom, I don’t get jealous,” came her answer. Carlisle stifled a laugh at that. The death certificate of his previous wife proved otherwise.

“I always thought you’d be the one to give me my first,” Mrs. Platt continued, causing her daughter to bristle. “But your little sister has beaten you to it.”

Esme’s knuckles went white around the champaign glass she held. “She’s just drunk, baby,” Carlisle muttered in her ear. “Fuggedaboutit.”

But it didn’t matter. Esme’s moods worsened in the weeks that followed as she grieved 17 years’ worth of parenting the daughter they tried to do right by. She stopped parking outside the Hales’ Upper East Side building in hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl, or regularly checking her social media pages for updates on how she was doing. Carlisle knew it had become too difficult for her, particularly when her sister got to be a mother so openly. Mrs. Platt was right; Esme hated going without what others had. And Carlisle could never let her go without.

So one day, he pulled his yellow Alfa Romeo into the garage of the couple’s home and paged Esme to meet him there. “Hey doll,” he greeted her from against the bonnet as she entered and closed the door behind her. “I gotcha somethin’.”

She looked around in confusion. Normally when he asked her to come to the garage it meant he had bought her a new car. “What?” She wondered, but before her husband could respond, she was answered by a chorus of thumping and muffled screaming from the trunk.

“Who’s in there?” Esme asked, bored. Visitors to their home arriving by car trunk wasn’t exactly new. He grinned at her smugly as the thumping continued. “What?” She said again, but he could tell he had piqued her interest. He sauntered over to the trunk and opened it, a flurry of blond immediately lunging at him from inside. Esme instinctively reacted with a raised gun, but as Carlisle restrained the girl, her eyes widened and she lowered her weapon. “Is that…?”

He beamed at her as Rosalie struggled in his arms. Her wrists and ankles were tied, but still she writhed around. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and fear, and duct tape covered her mouth. “Take that thing off of her,” Esme commanded. “I wanna proper look.”

“Hold still or it’ll hurt,” Carlisle told the girl. She stopped wriggling long enough that he could gently remove the tape without ripping her skin. She immediately attempted to bite his hand, but he was too fast. Then came an ear-piercing screech that caused both adults to wince, but Esme was smiling.

“You wait,” Rosalie said once she was finished screaming, her voice hoarse. “Just you wait. If it’s money you want, good luck. You might as well kill me now.”

“She looks just like you,” Esme said as if she hadn’t heard her, though she didn’t take her eyes off the girl. “We knew it already, but up close, it’s crazy. I didn’t get a look-in.”

Rosalie’s face contorted to an expression of both confusion and disgust. “What the fuck…?”

Carlisle laughed at her exaggerated expressiveness; the narrowed eyes, the over-the-top frown, the grimace that caused her cheeks to apple. He had seen Esme pull that face a million times before. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he told her as they both went back to staring at Rosalie — who was attempting to naw at the rope around her wrists — with the kind of fascination people usually reserved for newborn babies.

“Carl, untie her,” Esme instructed. He gave her a hard look, thinking it was a terrible idea. She arched an eyebrow in response, and he knew better than to argue with her.

“Wait ‘til my father hears about this,” Rose grumbled as he began cutting through the thick rope. That amused him, and he couldn’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?” She demanded.

He shook his head. “Nothin’,” he tried, but he heard Esme giggle and he started laughing again.

Rosalie’s face flushed angrily as she looked wildly from her almost-free hands to Esme and then to Carlisle. “I said, what’s. So. Funny?” She said it slowly and punctuated, as if she thought he was stupid. Esme’s laugh was turning into the loud cackle she gave when she was particularly thrilled. He sniffed with a smile and shook his head again.

Rosalie was then red-faced, her eyes flashing with rage. “What the fuck is so funny, you piece of shit?”

The couple collapsed into full belly-laughs for what had to have been at least a full minute as Rosalie could do nothing but glare. “It’s funny—“ Carlisle started, pausing to try and compose himself. “It’s funny that you said ‘wait ‘til my father hears about this,’ because I am your father.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes, irritated. She clearly thought that was his lame attempt at a joke.

“It’s true, saweetie,” Esme tried to turn her amusement into a sincere-looking smile. “Your our daughter. I’m your mommy! Were you ever told you were adopted?”

“What kind of weirdos are you?” Rosalie mused, her eyes still narrowed. “Don’t normal kidnappers just tie someone up and leave them be ‘til they’re paid ransom or get arrested? What is this, some sort of house-play shit? I saw something about that on TLC once.”

“Look, princess,” Carlisle started, struggling to get the blade through another bit of rope. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth. I didn’t bundle you up in my car for money, or to hurt you. I bundled you up in my car to bring ya home, where you belong. We’ve missed you your whole life, and now that you’re a lil’ older, we’d love to make up for lost time.”

She looked silently from one to the other. Carlisle could see that it would take a while to convince her. She was suspicious, defensive, and unyieldingly stubborn. Just like her parents.

“Whadiya say, kid?” He smiled at her. “Wontcha give your ol’ man a hug?”

The last of the rope snapped and Rosalie immediately punched him so hard in the nose that it made a horrible crack. He held it as she tried getting away, having seemingly forgotten about the rope around her ankles.

The pair of them allowed her to hop around the garage as both exits were locked. Esme handed him a tissue for his bloody nose and they stood side-by-side against the car, watching Rosalie noisily hunt for something she could either free her ankles or hurt them with. It took him a second to realise Esme was quietly crying.

“Don’t worry, doll,” he put a consoling arm around her and pulled her into him. “She’ll come round eventually. She just needs time. And maybe a car, or a pony, or whadevathefuck teen girls are into deeze days. Whadeva it takes, we’ll do it.”

“It’s not that,” Esme swiped at her tears and turned to him. He was surprised to see she was smiling.

“Then what? What is it, baby?”

Esme wiped another tear away as she proudly cried, “she’s got my uppercut!”

Getting the three of them to work as a family unit had been no easy feat. After showing her the paperwork that proved they were her biological parents, the couple brought Rosalie back to her adoptive home the same evening they had taken her from it in an attempt to show her they were no danger. She didn’t tell the Hales about what had happened, instead blaming her broken curfew on losing track of time while at a friend’s house. Carlisle knew that this was more out of anger at them for lying to her her whole life than it was out of loyalty to the Cullanos. The couple returned to watching her, but this time it was on a daily basis, and they made sure she saw them either by waving across the street or approaching her if she was alone. They often arrived with bribes, but she rolled her eyes each time.

“Hi, Rosalieeee,” Esme sung one day, the two of them having waited for her to get home at the corner of her block. “How was school?”

“Get lost,” Rose muttered as she went to walk past them as usual. Carlisle caught her arm, so she begrudgingly came to a halt and rounded on them with a glare. “What? What do you want?”

“I bought us matchin’ Birkins!” Esme said excitedly, unfazed by Rosalie’s attitude. She held up her arms, each hand gripping the handles of a bag.

“I already have expensive bags. I don’t need more. You know what? I already have parents, too.”

“Who had about as much of a hand in raisin’ you as we did,” Carlisle said. “Tell me, Rosie, which nanny was it you used to mistake for your motha?”

She flinched for a second before recovering her steely expression. “I told you not to call me that. You don’t get to give me a nickname. You don’t get to ask me how my day was. You don’t get to wait around for me every single day. Seriously, you’re both stalkers. You’re already breaking the law by seeking me out before I’m 18. Stop before I call the police and report you for harassment.”

“I don’t think you will,” Esme said gently.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so confident?”

“If that’s what you wanted, you’d have done it already.”

There was a pause. Esme took her chance to hand Carlisle a bag, freeing a hand to caress Rosalie’s arm. “Look, sweetheart. All we’re askin’ for is for you to get to know us. If you get to know us, and you decide you want nothin’ to do with us, we’ll walk away, no questions asked.”

Rosalie considered this for a moment, then looked back and forth at the two of them. “You swear?”

Carlisle traced the cross-my-heart motion on his chest. “Hope to die.”

“Promise,” Esme said firmly.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. But how will it work? I can’t just disappear to go live with you. I’m in my senior year, and my parents would have the mayor turn the city upside-down looking for me.”

“Well, they work ‘til late, right? So we’ll start pickin’ you up from school, and get you back before they come home,” Carlisle said.

“No, you can’t pick me up. Friends will see me getting into some random car. Plus, I’ll have homework...studying....that kinda thing.”

“Ahrite-ahrite,” he nodded. “Responsible, I like it. Education is very impawtant.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, it seems to have played a huge role in your life.”

“How about we get you a cell that you can use specifically for us?” Esme asked. “And you can call or text us whenever you’re finished with schoolwork? We can take ya out to eat or...well, do whateva you wanna do.”

Rosalie paused again. “Do I get to pick the phone?”

“Of course,” Esme smiled. She had told Carlisle the bribes would pay off eventually.

“What about your...business?” Rosalie asked curiously. They hadn’t explicitly told her what they did, but she was bright enough to guess.

“We do most of our work at night, anyway,” Esme answered.

And so the months that followed were filled with evening family bonding. Rosalie would call or text, they’d go out to eat, do different things around NYC or Jersey City, drop her home, go take care of business, get home either a little before or after dawn, and sleep while she was at school. She seemed to enjoy her time with them; she never said she was happy to continue allowing them to be in her life, but she never again brought up wanting them to leave her alone, either. So they continued the way they were as her 18th birthday drew closer.

One evening, when the family had gone go-karting, Carlisle noticed Rosalie’s ability to drive with extraordinary speed and precision. He decided to test it out in an actual car, just the two of them, and was thrilled to discover this skill was transferable.

“Guess what, baby?” He approached Esme from behind at their kitchen counter the next afternoon, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What?” She smiled sleepily as she prepared breakfast, though it was 1pm.

“I think I’ve found us a driver.”

“Really? Who?”

“Rosie.”

She frowned and pulled away so she could properly look him in the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remember how great she was when we went go-kartin’? Well, I brought her to a track last night and she was amazin’. Turns out she’s actually really into cars — kid knows more about ‘em than me!”

“First of all, drivin’ round an empty racetrack at night is very different from drivin’ the streets when you’re fleein’ a scene or bein’ chased,” Esme said, pulling fully out of his arms and heading for the sink. “Second, Rosie’s goin’ to college.”

“Whadiyamean, she’s goin’ to college?”

“I mean what the fuck I said: she’s goin’ to college!”

“We just got the kid back and now you’re gonna send her off to some otha parta the country to go to college?”

She turned back to him with a glare. “The whole reason we left her in the first place was so that she could have a normal life. College is a normal life.”

“Normal life? She was bounced around from nanny to nanny! We didn’t give her a life with normal parents, we gave her human cash cows and babysitters!”

“Well, at least she was safe.”

“We’d never let anyone hurt her.”

“We couldn’t guarantee that. We still can’t. That’s why she should go to college like the rest of her friends.”

“What, because college is so safe for young girls? Have you neva read a newspaper?”

“Don’t tell me about the dangers young women face,” she practically growled.

“She’d be with us,” he said, his tone much softer. “Where else could possibly be safer for her to be than with the two people who’d die for her?”

She stared at the counter for a moment. “Her 18th is comin’ up,” she said slowly. “That’s her opportunity to decide if she wants to come live with us or not. If she does, she does; if she doesn’t, she goes to college like the private-school kid she is should. But I don’t wanna force her like we did last time. If she chooses us, I want it to be because she chooses us.”

“Okay,” Carlisle smiled, then added, “and she will.”

And she did. She turned 18, deciding to finish out the school year where she had always lived. After graduation, she packed her bags, told the Hales she knew the truth and that she was leaving them for good, and came to live in the Cullano house. The Hales were a little persistent in trying to convince her to come back to them, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by sending Emmett, the most intimidating-looking member of the crew, over to their house to smash a couple of things up. As Carlisle had envisioned, Rose started driving for the Cullanos and their team, initially just the occasional, stress-free errand here and there. But she found it brought a certain amount of thrill and excitement her life had been missing, and so she worked her way up to riskier jobs. This trip to Boston would be her riskiest job yet.

“Is everyone done?” Carlisle now asked. Esme still had a slice left over while Rosalie sat with nothing but crust in front of her.

“Mmhmm,” Rose answered. Esme mumbled something about being full.

They gathered their things and headed back to the borrowed Bugatti that Emmett had arranged for them. Though Emmett was a Brooklyn boy, Boston was his father’s city, and he had relatives all around it. Relatives that would be more than happy to see the Cullanos through what they planned to do tonight.

Rosalie set the GPS to their hotel. “How many Ivanovs are there, again?”

“Six— well, 4 Ivanovs, a Petrov and a Ryan,” Esme answered from the back.

“Who’s the head?”

“Mmm, Tatiana. Or at least she thinks she is,” Esme smiled.

“Is she the one who...did she kill Emmett’s dad?” Rosalie met Esme’s eyes in the rear view mirror. She had developed a bit of a soft spot for Emmett over her time with them.

“No,” Carlisle answered instead. “That was Katarina and Garrett.”

“Garrett doesn’t sound very Russian.”

“Garrett is the Ryan. Irish mob, like Emmett’s dad,” Carlisle said.

“They worked together ‘til he fell for Katarina,” Esme added. “So it was a real blow when the two of them killed him. A big betrayal.”

“Then how come no one’s taken them out yet?”

“They’re powerful. Ruthless. Batshit crazy,” Carlisle said.

“Look who’s talking,” Rose said with a slight smile.

“That’s why Emmett’s mother left here and raised him in Brooklyn,” Esme said. “That’s where she grew up, so she knew she’d be safe. The Ivanovs have people everywhere around Boston. And with a target on the back of every McCarthy, stayin’ woulda been a death sentence.”

Rosalie frowned then. “If they’re that bad, what are we doing here? There’s three of us— two, technically, since I’m just the wheels. Those don’t seem like very good odds.”

“There’s also Alice, virtually,” Carlisle reminded. “She’ll be there behind every camera to tell us what we’re dealin’ with.”

“Cool, so she can say, ‘hey guys, you’re about to die’ right before we die. Helpful.”

“It is helpful,” Esme said. “Even the shortest of warnin’s can buy you just enough time to save your life.”

“Besides, we’re not plannin’ a massacre,” Carlisle said. “I’m expectin’ only one to be there. We hit ‘em, we go. Then we’re even for how they fucked us over with the Kiev deal they were supposed to facilitate.”

“So it’s...a blind hit? It doesn’t matter who you get, as long as you get one of them?”

Carlisle nodded. “But it would be...convenient, if it was Tatiana.”

Once they got back to the hotel, they freshened up and changed. The couple pulled out the stuffed bags Emmett had also organised for them. They took only what they needed, a couple of guns and knives each, and shoved the rest back under the bed.

“Don’t forget my favourite,” Carlisle smirked, waving Esme’s thigh holsters in the air.

“Never,” she said, holding up two pistols that were identical to her favourites back home. “Put them on for me?”

He knelt down, lifted up her skirt and strapped one around her right thigh. Then he moved to her left as she slotted her gun into it. After buckling the left one, he ran his hand down her inner thigh, causing her to giggle. Rosalie burst through the door of their adjoining rooms and froze as she registered them, her face immediately screwing up in disgust.

“Oh, for shit’s sake,” she said. “Get a room.”

“This is our room,” Carlisle pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “Why aren’t you in all-black?”

She was wearing head-to-toe black like they taught her, as she always did. Carlisle was dressed like an office worker from Mad Men, while Esme looked like a housewife from the 50s. Neither of them said anything.

“This isn’t one of your weird sex things, is it? Like, you can’t possibly get off on killing people together?”

The silence continued. “Ugh, don’t answer that.”

They made their way down to the car and Rosalie silently drove them to a street two blocks down from the address they’d given her. As the pair got ready, she drummed her fingers against the wheel.

“You scared?” Carlisle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she said, a little too forcefully.

Esme leaned forward into the gap between the two front seats and put a hand under Rosalie’s chin, directing her so she could look at her intently. “Remember the plan. Stay inside the car at all times. Stay put here, lights off, engine off. Only turn it on when you see us. Or when you see people who aren’t us carryin’ guns. If that happens, you drive and you drive and you don’t ever stop. Same goes if we’re gone past, mmm, a half hour. Forty minutes, tops. There’s a loaded gun in the glovebox if you need it. Got it?” Rosalie nodded. “Good.”

“Stay safe, princess,” Carlisle kissed her on the cheek, opening his door. “Love ya.”

He closed the door and Esme took her hand and squeezed it. “Everything will be fine. But in case it isn’t, you know what to do. I love you, sweetheart.”

She nodded wordlessly again. She never said it back; it was probably still too weird for her. But she swallowed tightly. Esme brought the hand she held onto up to her lips and kissed her knuckles. She then let go and opened the door.

“Esme?” Rose choked out just as she was about to close it.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Come back to me, like you did before.”

Now Esme was the one who could do nothing but nod. And with that, she closed the door, and the couple walked off into the night.

[knchins]

Karasuno + Beating Seijoh

Pairing: Daichi x GN!Reader, Suga x GN!Reader, Asahi x GN!Reader, Nishinoya x GN!Reader, Tanaka x GN!Reader, Kageyama x GN!Reader, Hinata x GN!Reader, Tsukki x GN!Reader, Yamaguchi x GN!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.1k

HQWK Prompt: Favorite Match

Warnings: Individual warnings are placed under each name header

Notes: Apologies for this being a day late. Yesterday was just a bad day for me. After this is posted I’ll be working on posting day 7! @haikyuuweek2020​

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging/kissing

After Hinata hit that final serve that won the game you raced down to wait outside the door to the gym. 

Daichi was the first one out, still dripping with sweat despite toweling off. 

Your eyes lit up at the expression of sheer joy on his face as you ran to him. 

In fact, you were so happy for him that you couldn’t help but shed a few joyous tears. 

He caught you in his arms as you ran at him full force, hugging you tightly as he laughed, shedding his own tears now. 

You didn’t care about how sweaty he was, his dampness soaking into you. 

He didn’t smell the greatest either but you didn’t even notice. 

“How is your face?” You ask looking up to examine his injury from earlier that day. 

You cupped the injured side in your hand lovingly. 

He removed your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Much better now.” He said with a soft smile before taking a smell step away from you.

He seemed to suddenly be aware of just what kind of shape he was in and didn’t want you to get covered in his sweat. “Wait for me?” He asked as he headed towards the locker room. 

You grinned and nodded. Win or lose you’d always wait for him.

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging/kissing)

Since Suga was called into the game, you had been cheering for him loudly. Knowing that playing in such an important match was very special to him.

Just before he walked into the court, he noticed you yelling for him and he gave you a playful wink before starting to play. 

In the final set, after he had received the ball with his face, you were instantly worried that he was injured. 

Even when he remained standing and seemed okay, your heart was still racing at the thought that he may have a concussion from being hit with the ball. Though at least he appeared to be fine. 

You didn’t even see Hinata’s successful spike as you were much too worried about him. 

When the team lined up to bow and thank the spectators, his eyes connected with yours.

And you knew then that he was just fine. 

His smiling face and the small thumbs up he gave you was all you needed to know. 

After he changed and got cleaned up, he met you right outside the locker room.

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him all over his face. 

“Koushi!” You could help but cry as he held you tightly. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” He said with a small laugh, “though that was kind of embarrassing.” 

“Let’s go celebrate!” You cheered and he nodded, stilling grinning happily.

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging/kissing)

Asahi was still crying when you finally found him outside the gym.

Not that you were surprised, he was such a big softie.

You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and buried your face into him, breathing in his lovely scent in the process. 

“You did it.” You breathed out as he hugged you back, resting his head on top of yours.

He was speechless, still in awe really. 

You pulled away from him first to beam up at him and wipe his tears away from his face. “I’m so proud of you, Azumane. Thank you for not giving up on the team.”

You had been a big advocate for him going back to volleyball after their huge loss against Date Tech. 

When Hinata and Kageyama convinced him to go back, it was one of the happiest days of your high school life. 

You knew how much volleyball meant to him and how sitting on the side lines was only hurting him in the long run. 

And now, after such a major win, you couldn’t be more proud of him. 

Asahi was smiling at you, though it was clear he was exhausted from the two matches today. “Thank you for not giving up on me.” He murmured back before squeezing you again in his arms. 

You could only laugh before kissing his cheek. “Now, go get cleaned up so we can go get you something to eat.” 

He finally let go of you, still smiling a somewhat awkward smile, and went into the locker room to get ready to leave.

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging)

As soon as Nishinoya saw you outside of the gym, he ran and tackled you to the ground.

He was still screaming about the win, too excited to even attempt to keep his voice down. 

“We did it! I knew we could beat them!” He said on repeat like a broken record. 

You could only laugh from your place on the ground as he jumped back up, holding his hand out to help you.

You stood back up with his help and smiled at him. “Your receives were amazing, Yuu! They couldn’t have done it without you!” 

A small blush crossed his face as he looked away from you. Hearing high praise from you always made him feel flustered. 

“I couldn’t have done it with my best cheerleader either.” He said back with a toothy grin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh in return before pulling him in for another hug. “Think you can beat Ushiwaka?” You asked, though you knew deep down that he could.

Nishinoya looked at you with the proudest expression you had ever seen. “We’re going to destroy them and go to nationals, all we need is my good luck charm.” 

Your own feelings of embarrassment rose as he called you his good luck charm. He said you were the most powerful one the team had. That they couldn’t lose with you cheering them on. It flustered you every time. 

“Hush...Now go change so we can get some popsicles to celebrate! My treat!’

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging/kissing)

You and Saeko had probably been the two loudest people in the entire gym that day. 

When Tanaka managed to receive a ball that you were sure would hit the ground, you screamed even louder for him. 

He glanced up at you at that moment with so much admiration that you thought you were going to melt on the spot. 

After they won and the boys cleaned up, you met him outside in the hallway. 

Tanaka ran to you, loudly proclaiming that he had the best partner out of anyone on the team. 

You were both shouting as you did your secret handshake before hugging each other tightly. 

It took Daichi yelling at you both to be quiet before you calmed down enough to look him head on with a goofy grin. Ryu looked so incredibly proud of both himself and of you in that moment.

You kissed him on the cheek. “My boyfriend is going to nationals!” 

“We have one more game before-”

“My boyfriend is going to nationals!” You snapped, grabbing his face. “Understand me?” 

Tanaka blinked at you, his face red with a blush before he laughed. 

“Dinner’s on me!” You said as you released him from your grasp. “Let’s go!” 

As the two of you walked out, his arm was slung over your shoulders protectively. If any other guy or girl even dared to look in your direction they were met with the scariest faceTanaka could muster. 

You could only smile as you went to your favorite place to eat to celebrate.

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging)

Kageyama wasn’t as boisterous or expressive as some of the other members, but he didn’t need to be for you to tell how elated he was at winning. 

“You beat him,” were your first words to him when he came out the locker room. “You’ve dethroned the Great King.” A warm smile on your face as he blinked at you.

Slowly a faint smile would spread across his lips as he nodded. “Yeah.” He said lightly, trying to act like it wasn’t a huge deal. Although you could see right through his charade. 

“I’m so proud of you, Tobio.” You said, eyes lighting up with love as a deep red flush crossed over his cheeks. 

Again he’d try to act like it wasn’t that big of a feat. I mean of course he defeated Oikawa. It was destiny. Right?

Still, he’d thank you for your kind words. He’d want to hug you but PDA wasn’t really his thing. 

So as usual you had to take initiative. You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to you so you could wrap your arms around him in a congratulatory hug, inhaling the piney scent of his deodorant. 

He’d be stiff as a board at first, anxiously looking around to see if anyone was watching.

When he realized no one was paying attention, he’d slowly hug you back before letting out a huge sigh of relief. 

“Now to beat Shiratoriwaza.” You said into him, voice muffled due to your face being pressed against his body. “I know you can do it. Show them all how great you are.” 

“Yeah.” Was all he could really say to that as anxiety wracked his nerves. “I’m going to go practice some more. Do you want to come?” 

As you pull away he sees that you’re still smiling. “Of course! Let’s go!”

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging)

Naturally Tanaka and Nishinoya weren’t the only ones causing a ruckus after their big win. Your short red-headed boyfriend was also screaming at the top of his lungs and of course so were you. 

You two nearly butt heads as you clashed into each other, too excited to hold back. Kageyama looks with disgust as the two of you hold each other in a tangle of limbs on the ground, having fallen after running into one another. 

But the two of you don’t notice him as you lay side by side on the linoleum floor, panting and laughing. “Now to shove Ushijima’s words down his throat.” You said excitedly as you sat up. 

Hinata jumped up, holding his hand out to help you off the floor. You take his help and stand back up next to him. “Think you can do it, Shouyo?” 

He’d grin like a complete idiot, chest puffed out with pride. “Of course I can! You’ll come watch tomorrow, right?” 

As you walk him to the locker room, you nod your head enthusiastically, “I wouldn't miss it for the world!”

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging...sort of)

Kei was even worse than Kageyama when it came to emotion. 

His face was pretty blank as he came out the locker room. Most of the other boys were screaming with excitement still or at least had huge smiles on their faces. Not your boyfriend though, he chose to wear the same typical frown. 

You also weren’t big on emotion like some of the other players’ partners. Kei actually preferred it that way. If you were yelling and shouting like some of his teammates then he would probably find you annoying instead of adorable. 

Despite his stoic exterior, you knew he was happy about the win. It had been a tough game after all. Each set had only a two point difference. 

You slung and arm around his slender waist, startling him at first as PDA wasn’t really typical between you too, but you didn’t care. 

Eventually though, Tsukki put his arm across your shoulders. A silent thank you for your support. Though he always tried to get you to not come to his games, he never seemed to be able to stop you. 

“Let’s go get some strawberry shortcake.” You said, looking at him with a sheepish smile. It was his favorite after all, how could he say no?

“Real food first, then dessert.” He chided with a ghost of a smile on his lips and a small nod of his head.

Warnings: Light PDA (hugging)

You couldn’t wait to see Yamaguchi after his amazing display of skill in the match again Seijoh. 

You had been cheering for him enthusiastically right next to Shimada and Takinoue, dressed in orange garb to show your support for the team. 

After the boys bowed, you made your way out of the stands with happy tears in your eyes. 

Before he could get washed up and changed in the locker room, you practically pounce on him. The tears flowing freely now, causing him to choke up with joy. 

“You did it Tadashi!’ You boasted, “Your serves were amazing! Five points in a row? I can’t believe it it-” 

“Next time I’ll get ten.” He said with a determined look on his face and you couldn’t help but melt at just how happy he seemed to have such a huge impact on a game. 

You nodded your head, wiping your tears away with a small laugh. “I know you will, Tadashi. And I bet you’ll win the set too.” 

He grinned at you, eyes nearly shut from how wide it was. “I promise to make you proud.” 

Taking him into your arms you gave him a strong hug, trying to show him just how much you loved and cared for him in that very moment. “You always make me proud.” You whisper into him happily.

General Masterlist || HQ Week Masterlist

[2manyfandoms2count]

Poisson d'avril

Here, have a half-baked April Fool’s Day fic my brain decided to wake me up for. For context, one of the most popular jokes for April 1st in France is taping paper fish to each other’s backs, the more original the fish the better (my childhood is filled with trying to sneak behind teachers' backs to tape one on them; they were very chill about it, tbh). Poisson d’Avril is also what you say at the end of a joke on that day (think "sike", but festive). More about this great tradition that apparently dates back to at least 1466 here.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette loved April Fool’s Day at Françoise Dupont. The school was always buzzing with little pranks at that time of the year, the blooming spring giving a wonderfully cheerful backdrop to the shenanigans the collégiens were up to.

These were all very light-hearted, if sometimes a little elaborate.

As usual, some students had been found early in the morning in the classrooms, thwarting their attempt to recreate the legendary horizontal fiasco of 20XX, where everything had been set up to look like the rooms had been flipped by 90°. Mr Damoclès had let them go mercifully, thankful that the students hadn’t been tempted to glue everything to the ceiling in an effort to one-up their predecessors. Somehow, he wouldn’t have put it past Kim and Alix to try and coordinate the project, as a last hurrah before heading on to lycée.

There were also seemingly well-meaning classmates offering chouquettes or donuts in the courtyard, which Marinette knew to stay well away from, knowing the former were likely sprinkled with coarse salt, and the latter filled with the likes of mayonnaise instead of jam. She’d been in their shoes a couple of years prior, building her classmates’ trust by bringing them the sweet delicacies every day for a week, and switching on April 1st as a joke.

Heading to class, she heard a lot of laughter, people telling jokes, or trying to see how far they could take a story without it being called out on it (this year, Nino had Kim panicking over a brevet exam part they supposedly had, which was a step down from the previous year, where he’d convinced him that everybody needed to come in dressed up in medieval costumes, and that he’d landed the court jester role; his friend had turned up the next day in a full outfit, complete with bells on his hat and shoes, and upon discovering the deception, had decided to make good use of them and make the joke everybody’s problem).

However much she enjoyed those kinds of pranks, though, Marinette’s favourite remained the classic poisson d’avril: taping paper fish to people’s backs. It was something anyone could take part in, as a predator or a prey, with or without premeditation. You didn’t necessarily need scissors and tape, if you managed to steal some from somebody else’s back.

Marinette liked to take it seriously. Done right, the exercise demanded stealth she’d had even as a little kid, and had honed ever since being chosen to become Ladybug, as well as creativity she had piles of. She’d stayed up the previous night, making plenty of fish varying in size and colour, some tailored to her friends, like the Rena Rouge and Carapace ones that were intended for Alya and Nino respectively. She’d of course also made the rest of the Miraculous team, as well as some other designs based on Kitty section, her classmates, or celebrities.

As always at the end of the day, Rose walked around with a whole school on her back. It wasn’t clear if she was completely oblivious to it, or if she knew what was going on but enjoyed the giddy giggles of the people who managed to add an extra fish in, or take one off.

The only person who’d managed to escape the prank so far was Adrien, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Kim, Alix and Nino had gone to great lengths to get at least one fish on his back, even recruiting Markov to sneak behind him, but the boy seemed to have a sixth sense.

No sooner did he hear the faintest of ruffles, that his head would jerk up, eyes darting around to figure out where the sound had come from, thwarting any efforts, no matter how elaborate they’d been.

Marinette had been reluctant to target Adrien, despite having a special fish for him, complete with his stripes and an orange-tipped tail, but as the day went by and more people joined the challenge to trick him, she felt the urge to compete rise in her chest and started unwillingly tracking his every movement, trying to find a breach in his focus.

It was a fastidious process, even for someone who enjoyed watching Adrien happily live his life, but it paid off around the end of the day, just after the last bell.

Marinette noticed that Adrien’s shirt looked a little rumpled around the back as they were retrieving books from their lockers, and approached him calmly.

“Adrien?” She announced her presence when she was right behind him, surprised that he hadn’t turned around yet. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

“Marinette!” He yelped, a hand flying to his heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” He chuckled nervously.

“No, I’m sorry I scared you!” Marinette looked down, apparently sheepish. In truth, she was cursing inwardly at the missed easy opportunity. Adrien had been at ease with her coming closer, which she assumed was because it was the end of the day and he’d started letting his guard down; she could have gone about her business and he would’ve been none the wiser. She shook her head; it didn’t matter, she’d just go on with her original plan. “It’s just that… well, it’s stupid, but the back of your shirt is a little creased, and I know how important your appearance is to your family so… Do you mind if I fix it?”

“Thanks Marinette, that’d be awesome.” He smiled at her in a way that would have made her lose her cool, had it been any other day. But she was on a mission, and there was no way she was letting the opportunity of pranking Adrien when nobody else had managed the feat go by.

“Okay, let me just…” Marinette reached into her purse and took the first piece of paper she felt, before gently taping it to Adrien’s shirt, making sure to smooth the fabric at the same time so he wouldn’t realise what she was doing.

“There, all done!” She smiled when she was satisfied the tape had adhered well enough.

He smiled back at her, but was interrupted in his thanks by Nino and Alya calling for them to hurry up.

“Today was really fun, I’m so glad I got to experience it first hand,” Adrien beamed as the group walked out of the building, Nino and Adrien a little ahead of the girls. “And I’m really proud that I survived it without getting pranked!”

Marinette bit back a laugh, eyes darting to his back.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Sunshine,” Alya replied, untaping the fish from his back and handing it to him.

“What…” Adrien stopped in his tracks, looking at it, and particularly Marinette’s signature on the back of the piece of paper, in disbelief. He turned around with a look of mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” He pouted.

“I couldn’t just let you off the hook,” she shrugged with a small smile, making a mental note to reuse the phrase with Chat Noir when she saw him later. He’d enjoy the pun.

Adrien let out a small chuckle as he turned the fish around, but the sound died as he saw the pattern. The colour drained from his face and he froze as he took in the black and green colour scheme and the fish’s whiskers.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?” Marinette frowned, noticing his change in body language.

“Yeah, um… Can I talk to you for a second?” He looked up at her.

“What a great idea!” Alya pushed Marinette towards Adrien before hooking her arm through Nino’s and starting to go down the stairs. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Marinette thought she heard her add “Can you believe they might get together over an April Fool’s joke?”, as she waved them off absentmindedly, but her gaze met Adrien’s troubled one and she decided she’d deal with her best friend later.

“What’s up?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks; the adrenaline from succeeding her challenge was evidently starting to wear off.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked cautiously, handing her the fish.

Marinette took it cautiously, saw the pattern, and smiled. “It’s a poisson-chat noir,” she said proudly. It was a bit of a shame she’d picked that one for Adrien, but she guessed she couldn’t have kept it for her partner anyway, given that she’d signed it. Still, she thought he would have liked the joke. Especially if it came from Ladybug.

“How did you know?” he murmured, looking at her incredulously. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at his cryptidness. He explicited his thoughts. “I saw the fish you gave Alya and Nino, and the one you managed to pin on Chloé; they were all references to their superhero selves. And now you get this one right as well… How did you know?”

It was Marinette’s turn to freeze and feel the colour draining from her cheeks. “I… I didn’t. I picked one randomly when I saw an opening.”

“Oh.” She saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s brain while she felt her own shut down, still processing one important piece of information.

“Adrien… Are you Chat Noir?”

“Um… Poisson d’avril?” He ventured.

“Adrien.” She repeated sternly.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Adrien huffed, raking a hand through his hair. “Please, don’t tell Ladybug.” He pleaded.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” She dug out her poisson-Ladybug and taped it to herself. She saw Adrien’s eyes grow as wide as his smile before being engulfed in a hug and feeling his lips on her forehead. “Kwami, we really might get together over an April Fool’s joke,” she muttered against his chest. If the heat she felt at the tip of her ears said anything, she probably was as red as Ladybug’s costume, and it probably wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?” Adrien pulled out a little from their hug to look at her.

“Nothing.” She smiled, and took his hand. “Now come on Chaton, we have some things to discuss, and we should probably go somewhere more private.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, my Lady.” He picked their entwined hands and kissed hers.

Really, she thought as they made their way towards her parents’ boulangerie, she loved poissons d’avril.

[spaceskam]

Pretty Little Picture (1/3)

fake dating au, pure fluff, no serious tags, just a bunch of fluff

for day 1 of @malex-cupid​

ao3

When Alex agreed to this, he thought it’d be a piece of cake.

“You’re going to regret this, it’s a horrible idea,” Liz said through the phone as he walked around his room, packing his bag for the weekend. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why? We’re friends. And I’ve done musicals and stuff, I’ve acted before.”

“Okay, but this isn’t acting. This is going on a weekend getaway pretending to date your friend who you have a crush on is a bad idea,” she scoffed. Alex shook his head, looking between his plain black button-up and his plain black fitted turtleneck. He chose the turtleneck one and folded it carefully.

“I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Really?”

“Really. Trust me, I’ve seen him after pulling an all-nighter and falling asleep in his coffee. I know not to have a crush on him,” Alex said. Though he will admit, that was pretty cute.

“Sounds like something someone with a crush would say,” Liz scolded. Alex snorted a laugh. “Fine, do what you want, at least you’ll be believable with the heart-eyes and everything.”

“I do not have heart-eyes!”

Truly, Alex was sure it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. He lived with Michael already. They shared the house he inherited‒Michael needed a cheap place to live while in college and Alex wasn’t really looking forward to living alone, so it worked out‒and nothing weird had happened in the last three years. They were best friends, what would one weekend hurt?

“Alex, I need your help,” Michael had said, bursting into the living room and nearly making Alex spill his coffee. He stomped towards him, dropping his bag on the ground and flopping onto the couch with a pathetic whine. “Help me.”

“Help you with what?” Alex had asked in return, taking his eyes off his laptop to give him his full attention while he threw a little tantrum.

Michael twisted onto his stomach and rested his chin on his hands, looking up at him. Alex’s heart absolutely did not skip a beat in adoration. He wasn’t that cute.

“You know my internship? The fancy one with all the rich people that pay me to be an intern for them and actually listen to my ideas and‒”

“Yes, Michael, I know about your internship,” Alex laughed. Michael pouted just a little bit.

“Okay, so every year, the CEO takes all the interns and entrance-level employees and their partners on a trip for Valentine’s day and it’s a fun trip, I guess, but it’s really just this big, super informal interview where he and his wife sort of see if you’ll be a good fit for the company long term. Khalil said I have to go no matter what, that it’s super crucial and to make a good impression. Like, I have to go, Alex. I have to get hired for real after I graduate. Do you know how much I’ll get paid just to start? $35 an hour, Alex! I could do so much with that money!” Michael explained, exasperated and overwhelming as if Alex hadn’t heard how much money he would make if he got this job a billion times.

“Yeah, okay, then go,” Alex told him, “Sweet talk them like we all know you can.”

“I need a partner, though,” Michael said, pouting all over again, “So come with me. Please? We can pretend to be, like, long term boyfriends and, like, convince them I’d be a good queer diversity hire at the very least.”

Alex felt his cheeks grow warm at the suggestion and shifted in his spot. “Why me?”

“Because! You were raised around a bunch of bougie rich white people, you know how to act at these things! I’d ask Isobel or Max, but I don’t even wanna pretend to be in love with them. With you, I can do the whole starry-eyed thing and if we have to show PDA, it won’t be that big of a deal because, like, it’s you,” Michael persuaded, clambering onto his hands and knees before putting his head on Alex’s arm and pouting up at him, “Pretty please? I’ll buy you something nice and fancy with my first big kid paycheck.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed, not letting himself think too much about it. They spent all their time together anyway. He’d fallen asleep with Michael’s feet in his lap, he’d seen him basically naked, he’d hugged him and gotten platonic head kisses from him. They could pull it off.

“Okay?” Michael repeated, sitting up more. His smile was shining and bold and Alex had to take a breath. “Okay! Okay, so we have two weeks to pack and come up with stories and shit to tell. It’ll be so easy, they’re gonna love you, you’re so chill. Thank you, Alex, thank you so much.”

Which led to now when Alex was preparing to go on this trip. From the way Michael explained, it would be a lot of just talking and discussing with a side of couples retreat-esque activities.

“He’s apparently superfamily and relationship-oriented. I don’t know if it’s because he’s, like, super conservative or if he’s super progressive and is all for, like, living wages for family and will give people ample time off. I’m too scared to ask just yet,” Michael had explained.

Michael had also assured him that, during discussions, he could either sit with him or go talk to the other partners, whichever he preferred. He basically just needed Alex to look pretty and seem like they were totally in love. According to the way Liz spoke about them, it wouldn’t be a difficult feat.

So Alex packed his clothes and anything he thought he’d need to get by on a three day trip to some bed and breakfast in the middle of nowhere. He wanted to look nice the whole time, even when they weren’t at formal dinners, and he was even going to flip his septum piercing. He planned to use his skills at selling himself to sell Michael as well.

“If you ever need a break, I’ll cover for you while you drive to the nearest convenience store to get a bunch of snacks,” Michael told him as he threw their bags in the backseat of Alex’s little car. Alex snorted a laugh.

“What about if you need a break?”

“Well, I plan to work for this fucker for at least the next thirty years, so my only break will be sleeping,” Michael said. Alex shook his head, going over to fix the collar of Michael’s shirt. It’d taken a bit of convincing to get him to forgo the flannels for a couple of days, but now he had a collared shirt that wouldn’t stay down for some reason. “Speaking of, are you gonna be chill sharing a bed or do I need to sleep on the floor? I don’t mind it, just wanna know if I should ask for an extra blanket.”

“Dude, we’ve shared a bed before,” Alex laughed, “It’s not gonna kill me.”

“Just making sure,” Michael said, taking a deep breath. It was only then that Alex realized that he was actually nervous.

“Hey,” Alex said, grabbing his shoulders and looking him in the eyes, “You’re going to impress the hell out of them, I’m gonna make sure of it, okay?”

“I just really want this job, Alex,” Michael said. Alex smiled.

“And you’re going to get it,” he said, “And, hey, if you don’t, this internship will always look good on your future resume.”

“Let’s just stick to telling me I’m gonna get it, okay?” Michael breathed. Alex laughed and nodded, patting him on the shoulder before shoved him gently in the direction of the passenger seat.

“You’re going to get it. Now get in the car.”

The whole ride there Alex was completely fine. This was going to be a piece of cake and he was going to show Liz that he could totally handle it. He didn’t have a crush, he wasn’t going to catch even more feelings, he was just being a good friend.

It didn’t really dawn on Alex just how stressful this weekend was going to be until they stepped inside the bed and breakfast and Michael looped an arm around his waist and tugged him in close. He knew they were going to be showing casual PDA, Alex agreed to that, but saying it and doing it in private was a whole different world to having Michael hanging onto him in front of other people.

Alex could hear his heart in his ears over the ringing, suddenly very aware of the fact that Michael was muscular. He knew he did a lot of manual labor jobs before he got that internship, but had he always been obvious about it?

Even then, Alex was able to smile through it as Michael led him up to the group of people that were already there. He was able to keep his feet under him as Michael leaned up to his ear to whisper a ‘you got this’. Alex was even stable as he shook the hand of the man whose suit was probably more than Alex’s inheritance.

“This is Alex,” Michael said, smiling over at him like he was the most important thing that ever existed, “My boyfriend.”

Well, shit.

Maybe Liz was onto something.

-

No, honestly‒Alex was fine.

Michael was charming, he knew that. He’d seen him with girls and guys he liked, he always laid on the charm thick and so it absolutely made sense for him to turn it on Alex. He just wasn’t used to it, that’s all. He just needed to adjust and then it’d be all roses.

“Alex, have I mentioned today that you’re my favorite?” Michael hummed as they went into their little room. Alex finally felt like he could breathe and tilted his head at him, raising an eyebrow. Michael was grinning with his back pressed against the door. “You’re incredible. They like you. Ivan laughed at your joke‒he never laughs.”

“Well, I’m glad you picked the right suitor,” Alex laughed, rolling his shoulders as he sat down on the bed. His back was facing Michael, finally, and he used it to close his eyes and count to three.

Michael was charming, simple. And, honestly, Alex was on the receiving end of it the more he thought about it. Just not in front of people. That’s what made it feel like so much. The audience. He’d never been so loudly out in front of that many people before. That’s what it was.

“The best,” Michael insisted. 

The bed creaked under his weight as he crawled across it and Alex was only able to prepare himself for the weight to be draped over his back because he was used to Michael being clingy. Just… in private. 

“Hey, you okay?” Michael asked after he was quiet for a second too long.

“Yeah,” Alex breathed, “I’m fine. Just never proudly stated I was into guys in front of that many people before.”

“Oh,” Michael said, pressing against his back just a little more, “Good feeling or bad feeling?”

Alex didn’t answer quickly enough.

“Alex, if you want to go home, then‒”

“No, this is good. I feel good. Just overwhelmed,” he explained. It wasn’t a lie.

“Okay, fair enough,” Michael said, kissing his temple before throwing himself backwards onto the bed, “I swear, it feels better after the overwhelming feeling goes away. None of them are gonna say shit to you either.”

Alex nodded and laid back on the bed beside him, looking over at him. They had to get ready for one of their informal discussions and dinner, but it sounded like a good idea to just lay there for a moment. The longer they laid there, the more he was able to realize this wasn’t going to be too bad. In fact, he was going to have fun with it.

In an actual relationship, he wouldn’t want to show a lot of PDA or be super touchy. But this wasn’t an actual relationship. He could just be a little extreme for the fun of it. He was going to school to perform. Why not try his hand at acting?

Bonus points if Michael got flustered.

“Okay, I’m good,” Alex said. Michael turned his head and they locked eyes, a smile on his face.

“Good,” Michael said, shifting onto his side, “But if you start feeling overwhelmed again, you can just squeeze my hand. We’re boyfriends for the weekend, so it doesn’t matter if they think it’s gay.”

Alex huffed a laugh, turning onto his side as well. 

“Do they actually know you’re bisexual or is this like your coming out and you’re just letting them think what they want?” Alex wondered, “I saw a couple of shocked faces.”

“Some people know, mainly the people I talk to every day, but I don’t try to hide it. I think most of them thought I was straight until Callie was showing Emily some picture of a hot guy and I said I wanted to see,” Michael said, grinning in that way that told Alex he’d done it purposefully to get a shock out of some people.

“Oh yeah, how’d that go?”

“No one really said much, the girls laughed. Khalil breathed like a sigh of relief because they thought they were the only queer person working there,” Michael said, scooting closer, “I think there’s probably a couple more somewhere are the office. It’s a big place, there’s gotta be.”

“Mm, but we’re gonna be basically the only same-sex couple this weekend, right? I didn’t see anyone else while we were down there,” Alex pointed out. Michael nodded.

“Yeah, sorry. But only for a couple of days! It’s already Friday afternoon and we’re leaving Sunday afternoon, it’ll be fine. Plus, you got me,” Michael said, reaching out to poke Alex in the side, “I’ll make it worthwhile.”

Alex found himself smiling just a little.

“Yeah, I know you will.”

They both eventually got up and got dressed. Alex broke out the turtleneck and some relatively tight black slacks, drawing on fresh eyeliner. He pulled as much of his hair back as he could into a small low ponytail and deliberately made his bangs and everything hanging down a little intentionally messy.

This was a performance and he was going to sell it easily.

When he came out of their bathroom and into the main room, he saw Michael was in a pair of chinos and a maroon button-up that he was sure Isobel had gotten for him. He was just fastening his belt when Alex made a show of leaning against the doorframe as he whistled low.

“Well, well, well, don’t you look good,” Alex said. Michael looked up at him with a shit-eating grin, hands fumbling as he tried to tuck the end of the belt into his belt loops. 

“I bet I smell better, Isobel got me fancy cologne,” he said. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, I can smell it, it’s nice,” he said, pushing off the door frame and walking closer, “You wearing real shoes, or am I going to have to publicly break up with you for wearing cowboy boots?”

Michael rolled his eyes and reached out to grab Alex by the waistband of his pants, tugging him in. Alex’s eyes went wide as he laughed at the forwardness.

“I’m wearing shoes, the fancy ones that are pointed at the end and click when you walk,” Michael said. Alex grinned and put the back of his hand to his forehead.

“I’m swooning.”

“You should.”

Michael let him go and went to go slip on his shoes while Alex went to his combat boots‒much more situation-appropriate than cowboy boots and he would stick by that. They gave each other another once over of approval before leaving their room. 

“Those boots make your ass look great,” Michael said as they headed towards the elevator. Alex’s eyebrows shot up and he looked over his shoulder. Michael flashed an innocent smile. “What? You’re my boyfriend, I can look at your ass, right?”

“If I can look at yours, boyfriend.”

“I’m begging,” Michael said warmly as they stepped into the elevator. Alex shook his head and pressed the ground floor.

Because, of course, this was what it would be like to be with Michael. Flirting, banter, touching. No wonder he had so many people wanting to be with him. Hell, Alex got a decent taste of it and they didn’t even like each other like that. Though, it definitely helped him understand where all of Liz’s concerns came from.

“You really are feeling better, right? Like, don’t let me do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll try not to, but, you know, slap me if I do,” Michael insisted before the elevator doors could open, sincerity dripping from his tone.

Alex held out his hand as the doors opened.

“I’m fine.”

Alex was able to make that statement even more true as they started socializing and he managed to snag a flute of champagne. It tasted expensive, just like the shit he and Kyle would sneak at their parents’ parties. It was easier to loosen up when pretending that’s what this was.

“Michael, Alex!” Curtis called as he neared, a big smile on his face and a gorgeous woman on his arm.

Curtis was the CEO of Disionic, a company that specialized in doing work for other companies’ prototypes. Companies of all sorts would use Disionic to outsource their new and fancy inventions for all sorts of different things, from engine-powered toys to ad blocking apps to literal blenders, as a way to test run them and get credible feedback from engineers and usually would employ them to fix any mistakes that were made. Michael loved it, it was a constant stream of new things and it made big money. 

The fact that he made a point to know all the interns' names was simply a plus.

“You two look like the perfect pair,” he said, looking between the two of them with a warm smile. Alex raised his eyebrows at Michael and offered a smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Iverson,” Michael said, nodding to the woman on his arm, “Mrs. Iverson.”

“Call me Jeannie,” Mrs. Iverson said, holding out a hand. Michael shook it firmly and Alex did the same. “So, I’ve heard about Michael, the agricultural and mechanical double major from Berkeley, but I haven’t heard about you. What do you do, Alex?”

Alex felt Michael take a deep breath, a silent ‘oh God, am I good enough that he told his wife about me?’ and he tightened his hold around his waist. Alex gave his award-winning polite smile that did wonders when he took etiquette classes back when his father thought dressing him up in a suit around other boys in suits to learn about how to act right would make him less likely to be a raging homosexual.

“I actually go to SFSU for right now,” Alex said, “Music major.”

“Oh!” she said, and Alex had already predicted her words before she said them because it’s what people always said, “That’s cute!”

“Mm,” Alex hummed, taking another sip of his champagne, “My major is piano education, but I also take vocal classes as more of a minor.”

“Oh, good, you’ll be able to do a lot with that. And it’s not that far from Michael’s school,” she said. He nodded, looking towards Michael.

“Yeah, we live somewhere in the middle,” he said.

“That’s good that he’s with someone who’s also focused, it’s a good environment to be in for a boy his age with his promise,” Curtis insisted. Michael went a little weak in his grasp and Alex didn’t have to be a genius to know it had everything to do with a grown man caring about his promise. 

“I think so too.”

After moving on from Curtis, Michael was able to regain his legs and his brain and Alex didn’t have to carry too much of the weight‒literally and figuratively. They sat and had dinner, all paid for by the company, and then got back to socializing. It was honestly a bit draining, but Alex kept reminding himself it was just for the weekend and it was for Michael and also that most of the people there were winging it just as much as Michael.

“So, how did you two get together? I know Michael said you were roommates before things got started, so that must’ve been a risky move,” Alisha‒Michael’s coworker’s wife of two months who wouldn’t let either of them forget how sad it was that they couldn’t make it to the wedding as if they’d known either of them long enough to be invited in the first place‒asked. She was kind and all, but she asked a lot of questions. Alex was waiting for her to ask something that was too invasive to even justify a polite answer.

Honestly, some of them already felt too invasive, but Alex knew that was probably him just being touchy.

“Oh, I just got up the courage to ask him out one day and hoped it wouldn’t be weird. I mean, look at his face. It was impossible not to catch feelings,” Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes and leaned into his side, playing it up to the best of his ability. It helped that the champagne he’d been sipping on had made him a little more comfortable.

“Stop it.”

“I’m serious! I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted a chance to look at the stars with you and know you were mine,” Michael cooed, pressing his nose into Alex’s cheek and nuzzling just a little. Alex’s ears were ringing a bit as he turned his head to look at him up close. They locked eyes for a moment too long before Michael cleared his throat and looked back to Alisha. “So, yeah, couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

“How cute, I wish straight men were that romantic,” she cooed, just tone-deaf enough to level Alex’s thoughts, “Have you talked about marriage? I’d love to come to the wedding, it’d be so fun.”

“Not really, yet,” Alex said, pinching Michael’s hip just enough to make him jump, “But I figure one day I’ll get him on one knee.”

“What, you won’t propose to me?” Michael said, trying to put but failing through his smile. Alex cupped his ear in his hand, running his thumb gently along the curve of it. If Michael’s eyes drifted to his lips, well, Alex pretended he didn’t notice.

“Maybe I just like seeing you on your knees,” Alex said. Michael’s eyes widened.

“Oh, dear, I feel like I’m intruding,” Alisha giggled and Alex blinked out of it.

“Sorry,” he said, “Just teasing.”

“I totally get it! Me and my Tom get like that all the time.” 

“Speaking of your Tom,” Tom said, sidling up beside her and looping his arm around her waist. She smiled up at him. “Emily wanted to see your ring.”

“Oh! Okay, see you later, guys! I had fun talking to you,” Alisha said, waving as she let herself be tugged off to wherever Emily and her boyfriend were.

Alex let out a breath of relief and raised his glass to his lips. Mid-sip, Michael leaned in close to his ear, lips nearly pressed against his skin. Alex focused on his drink.

“You’re gonna do something stupid like make me fall in love with you,” he breathed, leaving a kiss on his cheek before he pulled back.

“Ah, a tragic mistake many men have made,” Alex said playfully. Michael beamed at him.

“Seriously, you’re amazing, Alex. I’m so glad I brought you. You even managed to make Alisha bearable,” Michael said. Alex laughed and looked over to where Alisha was proudly showing off her ring.

“She’s not that bad.”

“You haven’t met her as many times as I have,” Michael huffed, “I was terrified when I saw her comin’ this way. She means well, but, you know.”

“The straights just aren’t as romantic, Michael, don’t you know?” he said. Michael laughed and squeezed his hip. “But are you good? You’re starting to look a little drained.”

“I’m gonna start lookin’ for a way out so we can go upstairs. My people tolerance is dropping,” Michael confessed. Alex nodded.

“Well, you’re doing really well. I almost didn’t notice.”

“Hopefully no one else will.”

“No one else knows you like I do, so I’m assuming you’re good.”

Michael tilted his head, that little smirk on his lips as he said, “You know me so well, huh?”

“I do live with you,” Alex pointed out. Michael nodded and his eyes went to the flute of champagne in his hand.

“How many of those have you had?” he asked. Alex shrugged, swirled it around a bit before downing the rest.

“Three, maybe four. Yeah, four, one before dinner, one during, two since,” Alex explained. Michael nodded.

“Feelin’ good?” he asked. Alex hummed and nodded, looking over Michael’s face easily. “I’m not a champagne man.”

“Neither am I, but this shit is too expensive not to drink.”

Michael laughed, “Guess I’ll have to taste it.”

“You will.”

Alex’s eyes drifted to his lips, not for the first time. He started wondering what he actually looked like on his knees. Then he shook that thought right out of his head.

“I’m tired,” Alex said, maybe a bit louder so other people would hear. Michael grinned.

“Okay, let’s make our rounds in saying goodnight.”

They said goodnight to Michael’s coworkers that they passed on their way to say goodnight specifically to Curtis and Jeannie. It was an absurd amount of small talk, very ‘oh, yeah, we were up early, Alex had class’ and ‘it’s a long day, want to be fresh in the morning!’ and ‘you know how it is, can’t wait to get this one alone, haha!’ It was all tragically boring and as he got closer to when he’d be free of it, Alex began to itch to get back to their room.

By the time they said goodnight to Curtis and his wife, they were basically speed walking to the elevator. Once the doors closed, Michael tugged Alex into a hug, burying his face into his neck and Alex giggled, feeling light as he draped his arms around his neck. Michael lifted him off the ground for a moment, until the doors slid open.

They made it back to their room and Alex didn’t have a moment to process anything before the door closed and Michael was closing in on him. He grabbed his face in between his hands, staring at him with the biggest smile. Alex was probably a little too drunk for this.

“You are so fucking good at this, I could kiss you. The flirting, the touching, the lines? Alex! You’re a genius, a pure genius. I knew they’d like you, but they like like you. You are so good, Alex Manes,” he gushed, peppering kisses to his forehead and his nose and his cheeks. By the time he pulled away, Alex’s face was on fire and he was smiling so wide it hurt.

“I’m just selling it,” Alex said.

“And you are doing a damn good job. I should date you more often,” Michael said. Alex nodded lamely and Michael laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling it to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I am going to go take a shower, boyfriend. You start trying to sleep off that champagne, okay?”

“Okay.”

Michael dropped his hand and turned, stepping out of his shoes on the way to the bathroom. Alex let out a breathy laugh and sat on the edge of the bed. He slowly pulled his hair down and pulled off his boots, taking a deep breath. He licked his lips and turned his head to the bathroom door, head swimming with too many thoughts as the water kicked on.

Alex changed out of his shirt and his pants into sweats and a t-shirt, climbing into bed without much thought. He tried not to think, at least. He closed his eyes and tried to lull himself to sleep.

But, when the bathroom door opened, he couldn’t help himself.

Alex peeked over the edge of the blanket and watched as Michael, dripping wet with just a towel around his waist, searched for his clothes with nothing but the bathroom light to guide him. He was gorgeous and overwhelmingly… Michael. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he wanted something so bad as he wanted to touch Michael at that moment.

At the thought, he pulled the blanket over his head, his eyes going wide.

Oh.

Oh no.

[themadlostgirl]

Abandoned (8)

* Secrets shared in a skyward hideaway.

I do feel the need to put a trigger warning on this chapter because there is discussion of past non-con/rape treatment that may be upsetting to read about. It is short and not horribly descriptive in any way but it is there and you should be informed about it. With that, carry on.*

~~~

Baelfire proved to be a more than worthy adversary to Peter and his boys. It had been several weeks since Baelfire had run into the jungle and hid. I know that if Peter truly wanted to find him then he could rather easily but he was enjoying this game with Bae far too much to do something like cheat. I had not seen much of Bae ever since that night we spent at my camp. I would accidentally come upon him in the jungle gathering water or food on occasion and there were some mornings where he would come visit me at my camp, desperate for someone to talk to. I understood the need well. He never stayed for long though. Just enough to keep himself sane before he left again.

If Peter knew that Bae came to see me he never said anything about it. Scowl and mutter to himself when he saw two apple cores lying in the sand, yes, but he never did ask. Never accused. He knew I was obeying his rules. I never went out seeking Baelfire but there was no rule that he couldn’t come to me. I was also under no obligation to detain him for Peter.

An interesting change was how much more attentive Peter got once Baelfire arrived. Before he would stop by frequently to see me everyday, other days he would be busier and would only be able to come by in the evenings when the island was laid to rest. But now he was practically glued to my side. I always knew to expect him around noon and we would stay together for hours on end together. He would disappear for an a hour or so then be back to spend the rest of the day with me. He would come every night and sit with me by the fire until I began to nod off.

Our visits consisted mostly of talking while we hiked through the jungle or lying against one another at my camp watching the waves as Peter performed small tricks of magic and I sang half forgotten lyrics of songs from long ago.

Then of course there was the kissing. Like a lot of kissing. Probably too much kissing to be honest but it couldn’t be helped. It was safe to assume that if we weren’t talking or hiking or fighting his lips were attached to mine. It was an experience more intoxicating than rum and we were determined to get drunk on one another.

On more than one occasion I felt something between us. I don’t mean that metaphorically either. His little “pan flute” would pop up between our bodies and Peter would subsequently get flustered about it. Pulling it away so it couldn’t touch me. It was rather cute. Peter didn’t think so but I liked that he didn’t want his hormones to make me uncomfortable. Especially after the first time it happened and I got so frightened at the sudden poke to my thigh that I shoved him away from me with such force he almost went rolling back into my fire pit.

His face went red and he desperately tried pulling down his tunic to hide the erection straining against his pants. In the moment after I laughed it off and teased him about it but my heart was still hammering hard in my chest. I dug my hands deep in the sand so he couldn’t see them shaking. Specks of warm arousal poking through waves of cold dread. It was confusing to say the least. Peter never asked me to elaborate about why I had pushed him away so harshly for something fairly innocuous. Maybe it was because he was embarrassed for the first time ever and didn’t want to dwell on it. Either way it was never discussed.

Until the night Peter went missing.

It was a night like any other. I lit a fire, ate my dinner and quietly sang songs as I walked along the shallows of the beach. There was one stark difference though. Peter wasn’t here. He always showed up around this time but tonight he was late. Very late.

I told myself it didn’t matter. Peter doesn’t have to come see me every single night. I spent many a night without Peter at my side. His absence was nothing new and I could cope fine without him for an evening. But still it worried me. Earlier that day he was with me when suddenly he had just gotten up and run off with barely a word of goodbye. He never returned and I was starting to get worried.

What if something bad happened to him? What if he was hurt and couldn’t get back to camp? I knew it was ridiculous to think about. Nothing bad could happen to Peter on Neverland. If I knew that then why did these thoughts continue to plague me? Should I go looking for him? Maybe I should stop by the camp just to make sure. Yes. That sounds perfectly reasonable. Peter is always asking me to come back to camp with him. Perhaps this is just one of his ploys to get me to comply. If it meant knowing that he was safe rather than dying of dreamshade in some ditch then I would indulge his games.

I hurriedly walked through the jungle towards camp. Relief came to me when I saw the flames of the large bonfire shining through the trees. I entered, waving to the boys as I passed. I searched their faces for Peter but didn’t see him.

“Hey Felix,” I approached the tall Lost Boy, “Do you know where Peter is?”

“He’s not with you?” Felix said, brow furrowing.

“No. He ran off earlier this afternoon and I haven’t seen him since. I figured he was here.”

“I haven’t seen him since this morning. I thought he was spending all day with you...again.” Felix scowled at me.

“Now’s not the time for your petty jealousy, we have a much bigger issue at hand. If Peter isn’t with me and he isn’t at camp, then where could he be?”

“Maybe he left the island. He doesn’t do it as much now but it wouldn’t be unheard of.”

“All the more reason I’m worried. He doesn’t leave the island unless it is for a very good reason. You don’t think this has anything to do with Baelfire, do you?”

“Possibly. No way to know for certain.”

“Should we be worried?”

“I don’t think so. Pan just disappears sometimes. He's never away long and does come back eventually.”

“I know you’re right but there is something about this whole thing that doesn’t sit right with me.” I crossed my arms, “I’m going to go look for him. If anything, searching will at least put my mind at ease.”

“Do what you want. But I’m telling you that you’re worried over nothing.”

I grabbed a lantern from the camp and made my way out into the jungle. I called Peter’s name with no response. I liked to think that I knew the jungle pretty well but there was a reason I made my camp on the beach. The jungle unnerved me slightly and it was only made worse at night. I know that if I became lost I could realistically find my way back to familiar territory in an hour or two. At night though every tree, every path, looked the same. It felt like I could walk in circles for hours.

I listened for a noise. For the music of his pipes to guide me to him but the night air was frustratingly quiet. More time passed and I was growing weary. It had to be very late now and I still had no idea where Peter was. He probably was off the island somewhere and would be back in the morning like Felix said. I should go back to my camp and go to bed. I should...but I didn’t.

I rested against the large trunk of a tree to gather my bearings. “Where are you?” I whispered to the air.

Then, like an answer to a prayer I heard something. It was faint but it was there. A soft sound far above me. I squinted up at the tree and strained my ears to listen. Whatever that noise was it was coming from up there. Reason told me it was a bird or leaves but I couldn’t leave it alone. I set the lantern down on the ground and heaved myself up into the large branches of the tree. It wasn’t like the other trees around the island. Those were all tall, thin and tropical with smooth trunks. This however looked like a large oak tree. Rough bark and twisted branches stretching higher and higher into the air. What was a tree like this doing here?

I continued to climb and subsequently the noise I had heard became louder. I was convinced it wasn’t a bird now. It sounded like a person. I broke through the foliage and found a small treehouse extended on the large bough. Could this be where Baelfire had hidden himself away? If it was then I had to commend him. Building a treehouse up this high was no easy feat. That just reminds me, I should go talk to Tinkerbell one of these days and catch up.

I carefully stepped closer to the treehouse and peered in through the crack of the door. The figure of a boy was hunched over in a tight ball. Quiet sobs shook his shoulders. I pulled the door open more to get a better look and was betrayed by the loud creak that accompanied it. I froze as the figure on the ground stopped crying at once and his head rose. He turned around and I was faced with a sight I never thought I would see.

Peter Pan, my Peter Pan, was on the ground of this treehouse with noticeable tear tracks trailing down his cheeks and his eyes were puffed from crying. He gazed at me in shock but there was a feeling of shame with it. Before I could say anything he waved his hand and the door slammed shut in my face.

“Peter,” I knocked on the door, “Peter please, open up.”

“Go away. I’m in no mood.” His voice was quiet.

“I’ve been looking for you all night. You had me worried.” I sighed, resting my head against the door, “Please, talk to me.”

“I said to go away!” There was more bite to his words this time.

“I’m not going anywhere. I can’t now. Not after what I saw.”

“You saw nothing.”

“You can lie to yourself but not me. I know you too well.” A pause. “Please Peter, you’re scaring me. I just want to make sure that you’re alright. If something is going on then I want you to tell me. I want to be there for you like you’ve always been there for me. Please!”

“You can’t help this.”

“But I can listen. I can hold you while you unload your worries...dry your tears. You need not hide them from me. I’ve already seen them now.”

“Why won’t you just leave?”

“Because I care about you and I’m stubborn.”

The door creaked open and Peter stood on the other side. He looked more composed now but there was still an undeniable air of sadness surrounding him. I walked into him and held him in my arms. He buried his face in my neck.

“I’m scared,” he whispered after several minutes of silence, “I’m terrified, precious.”

“Why? What are you scared of?” I asked.

“I’m dying. I’m dying faster and faster and it feels like I can’t stop it.”

My heart stopped. My grip on him becoming tighter. “What do you mean? What makes you think you’re dying?”

He sighed and gazed down at me. “Come, sit down.” He moved us to a small wooden bed that stood in the corner. “There’s one story I have yet to tell you.”

I sat patiently while Peter explained why he had been so scared tonight. Apparently there is an hourglass on Skull Rock that counts down Peter’s life. For many years it had sat stagnant as was expected on an island where nothing ages. Then one day the sand started to trickle out. It was hardly noticeable at first. A grain of sand a day if that. Then slowly over time it was getting faster and faster.

Peter was shaking again by the end of his tale. I held him in my arms until the shaking stopped. It gave me plenty of time to think about what he had said too.

“Peter,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion, “Why did you never tell me? It pains me to think that you’ve been holding all this in by yourself.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” His voice was hoarse from the sobs he refused to let free, “If you knew that there was a timer on my you would be so worried all the time. I didn’t want to put that burden on you.”

“Better to share a burden than let one person break under it.” I told him. “Is there anything we can do to fix this? I mean, there has to be a way.”

“There is.” Peter sighed, “Do you ever wonder why there are only Lost Boys and no Lost Girls?”

“Sexism?”

“Cute, precious, but no. The reason I only bring boys to the island it because I am looking for something very rare. The Heart of the Truest Believer. I received information that the heart belongs to a boy and I’ve been searching for him ever since. But he is proving difficult to locate.”

“This afternoon when I left you I went to check on the hourglass. I had felt something shift in the air around me and knew something had to be wrong,” Peter continued, “When I saw the hourglass it was so much lower than the last time I checked. I’m running out of time and it feels like I can’t do anything about it because I can’t find this blasted boy!”

Peter shot off the bed, pacing the small length of the room and running his hands through his hair. “I came up here for some privacy to calm down and wallow in peace. I never meant to scare you. I am just going through a very difficult time right now.”

“Peter,” I stood in front of him to stop his pacing. I grabbed his hands and kissed the backs of his knuckles. “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll find the heart and we’ll cure you. I promise.”

I kissed his cheek. “I promise.” I kissed his other cheek. “I promise.”

He placed his hands on my waist and pressed his lips to mine in a soft, needy kiss. I was trying to reassure him with slow and meaningful kisses but he wanted more. Needed more. The loving embrace taking a turn for heat and pleasure as his mouth ravished mine. I didn’t mind. He needed to express the tornado of emotions and I was more than willing to help him withstand the storm.

His hands glided up from my waist into my hair. We stumbled back so I was pressed against the treehouse wall as he kissed me desperately. My heart fluttered wildly in my chest as his lips left mine to nuzzle and suck on my neck. Warmth spread through my chest.

“Want you.” Peter’s voice whispered like a plea in my ear, “Need you so badly, my pearl.”

Peter’s hands were all over me. It was like he couldn’t figure out where to keep them so he put them everywhere. Reaching around me to grab handfuls of my ass or running up and down my sides before catching in my hair again. At one point I felt his hands glide under my shirt. The sensation was tingly but pleasant and I didn’t try to stop him as his hands got higher.

He laid us back on the bed and a giggle escaped my mouth as his hands tickled along my ribcage. The air around us was sweltering and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I tentatively ran my fingers along the hem of his tunic. Peter groaned slightly when I swallowed back my nerves and ran my hands up under his tunic along his bare skin.

I searched his eyes and with a small nod he removed the shirt. It really wasn’t anything that I hadn’t seen before but then again we hadn’t been close like this when he shirtless then. He sat back for a moment basking in the attention as I mapped his torso with my hands. He was back on me kissing me harder and pulling me tighter against him.

“You feel all warm and soft,” He murmured against my neck, “Soft as a kitten.”

You’re so soft. Like a little kitten.

No. No, he can’t ruin this.

Won’t you purr for me little kitten?

No!

“Stop.” I pushed Peter away. Peter stopped at once, leaning away to put space between us. I readjusted my clothes with shaking hands. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to but I...I…”

“You’re nervous.” he said, brushing a hand through my hair in a soothing motion. “If I may confide, I am nervous too.”

“You?”

“Yes.” He sighed, “It may surprise you since I am such a catch but I’ve never been involved with a girl like this before. I never saw much of a point in it before you. But I do care for you and if given the chance I would love nothing more than to please you, my pearl.”

“Peter,” I laced my fingers through his. It was the only thing keeping me tethered to the room in that moment. “I am grateful but you must know that it isn’t just nerves that keeps me from being intimate with you.”

“What does then?” He asked.

“You would not be my first.” I whispered and watched as the realization and subsequent jealousy flared in his eyes, “It was a long time ago before I came to Neverland. A pirate from another ship when we made port. He was handsome and older and we got along well. A bottle of rum later and we went out back behind a tavern.”

“I see.” Peter was trying to remain calm but I could see the jealous rage in his eyes.

“I don’t think you do. What happened between us was unpleasant to say the least.” I said and Peter’s brow knit in confusion, “It was exciting at first but the actual act was uncomfortable and even painful and when he had finished he left and I was sat there alone on the dirty ground. I was bleeding and scared because I had no form of contraception. A couple of prostitutes spotted me crying and took me to the apothecary to make sure I didn’t end up pregnant. After that I went back to the ship and never told anyone.”

“He forced himself on you?” Peter barked, murder in his eyes. I could hear the distant roar of thunder rolling in with his rage.

“No. I don’t think so at least. Details are fuzzy but I remember that I wanted to do it and up until a point I was enjoying myself but he had not been gentle with me and didn’t seem at all concerned that I received no pleasure from our interaction.” I gripped his hand tighter. As much as I forgot of my old life, this one memory forever haunted my mind. I think it was the only time I was truly and utterly terrified. “I was more scared when I looked down and saw the blood mixed with something else on my thighs. Can we please stop talking about it now. It’s humiliating and unpleasant to think about.”

The anger bled out of him replaced with pained eyes and a soft voice, “Of course, my pearl, of course.” He kissed the crown of my head. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. You deserved so much better than to be used by some slimy pirate. I would banish the memory of him and his cruel treatment of you from your mind forever.”

“Please, make it go away.” I pleaded, “I don’t want to remember him. I don’t want to remember what happened.”  The smell of rum between us, the way he pinned me against a wall, little pinpoints of pleasure through the discomfort, and the words he spoke in my ear. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to make me tremble.

“Shh,” Peter pulled his tunic back on before pulling me back into his arms. “It’s alright, my pearl. It’s just a bad dream now. He can never hurt you again and I would never let him. Everything will be alright.”

“Why does the pain always remain? Why can’t I remember anything happy?”

“Because pain leaves scars.” Peter whispered, he pressed a hand to my head. “Go to sleep. We could both use the rest.”

“Peter…” I yawned as my eyes grew heavy and I started to fall under his sleeping spell.

“Hush now,” His voice sounded farther away. Whether it was the start of a dream or not I could not tell. “I’m watching over you, my love.”

---

(Previous) (Next)

[ainarosewood]

Ruminate

FFXIVWrite2021 Day 7 Prompt Speculate

Raha found himself pacing restlessly across the floor of the Umbilicus, his mind racing. The Miqo’te had found this room to be the best suited as a central focus to work the Towers systems. So far the first part of the plan worked: the Sycrus Tower had successfully crossed the rift and made it to the First. Albeit a hundred years earlier than expected but the Ironworks Engineers had said that their calculations were rough at best given that such a trip had never before been thought of much less achieved.

I may be early but that does afford me some time, he told himself, Time to figure out how in Seven Hells I am going to bring the Warrior of Light here?

He had already determined, thanks to the refugees that had come to him, that the key in banishing the Light was slaying the Light Wardens. He also suspected that their influence was akin to a Primals and therefore the Echo would protect Rhel’a from its corrupting influence. At least he hoped it would. All that remained was figuring out how to pull the Keeper here to the First.

In theory I could use the Tower again to jump to the precise time before the release of the Black Rose he thought but...no that wouldn't work because I cannot guarantee that such a jump could be the exact time giving the variance that has been detected.

“Perhaps I could use the Towers capabilities of travel in some other manner,” he murmured

The question was how? That he could reach Rhel across the rift with the Towers temporal engine he did not doubt but the question was how could he then pull the Miqo’te across the rift at all much less safely.

Raha stopped pacing and flopped down pulling one of the many books he had piled here in the Umbilicus hoping one might give him some spark of inspiration. He felt a pang of grief as he realized that the one he had picked up was one of Rhel’s journals from his travels. Even with this remarkable endeavor leading him to travel well beyond anywhere he had dreamed would be a thing it was still a hard thing to accept that the gentle Keeper was gone.

Shaking his head and shoving down his grief he opened the journal knowing full well that the other Miqo’te’s travels had been vast and maybe just maybe his spark could come from something recorded from them. He began reading one of the passages,

I cannot deny the relief I felt as I saw her appear from that burst of aether. The Seedseer’s and I felt a great sense of triumph that we had managed to have the Elementals recognize her and manage to pull her from the Lifestream. I almost wept with joy as I looked upon Shtola’s prone form. She was alive, she hadn’t given her life to buy me time to escape. Hopefully soon the others could be located as well.

Raha stopped flipping back a few pages to get the full of the information involved with this particular passage,

I can scarcely believe we may have some information on what happened to one of the Scions. It seems that Y’shtola managed to escape from the waterway beneath Ul’dah by means of a spell known as Flow. I had to get Urianger to explain to me exactly what that entailed for I had never heard of it. It was the precursor to the Teleportation spell that is in current use. A far more dangerous one. He seems convinced that she survived its use but is now trapped in the twisting vortex of the Lifestream. But in that there is hope, it seems her aetheric trail led to the Shroud and the Elementals could in theory help us, I hope.

“Flow,” Raha mused, “Hmm, no not it by itself that is too unpredictable. Maybe….portions of it combined with Teleport. But that would require some sort of beacon….”

His ears shot straight up; he had the beacon right here, the Tower itself. The entire thing was a conduit for massive amounts of aether. In theory the Auracite of the Tower could be considered another form of crystal not unlike an Aetheryte.

“But he’d have to attune….wait no he wouldn't.” Excitement began to fill Raha; he may at last be coming up with some form of solution to getting Rhel’a to the First.

The Sycrus Tower had, back in the height of Allag, not only been a beacon that transmitted vast amounts of energy gathered from the sun to the rest of the Empire but also a restricted research facility, one of the most restricted. Therefore anyone entering the Tower would be recorded and documented by the internal systems.

“Not to mention he fought several battles here which means his blood was spilled on parts of the Tower and his aetheric use would have been detected….”

Which meant in theory Rhel’a was already ‘attuned’ to the Tower’s crystal. The internal systems would easily identify and recognize the man’s aetheric and physical signature. Which meant a beacon for the spell to find.

“Now comes the fun part,” the Seeker told himself ruefully, “Forming the spell.”

Setting aside the journal he began digging though the mountain of books he had there in the Umbilicus grateful that he and the Ironworks crew had the forethought to take as many books as could be found on many different subjects. And rejoicing in the fact that thanks to Urangier’s cleverness the wards on the Waking Sands had hidden the place from looters and all of the Scions records and copies from the Sharlyan library had remained there intact. He had of course brought all of those back to the Tower with him and in turn to the First.

He gathered as many books as possible that he had on aetherology and spell work. He had never really been one to use magic much and to be honest had it not been for Krile’s nagging he never really would have tried to get so much as a base knowledge of it.

But, now he was eternally grateful to the Lalafell for her stubbornness and insistence. Had she not been he never would have dared attempting to make much less combine spells for any reason.

Frowning for a moment he also realized that just Teleport and Flow alone may not be enough of a basis to attempt such. He began going through more of the Scion’s old trove of books and realized another piece of the puzzle that might help. The information on how the beastribes summoned their Primals.

“It could be said I am summoning Rhel….” he stated softly, “But in a slightly different manner. I could probably use some of the base structure of a summons with elements of both Flow and Teleport woven in somewhere…”

His voice trailed off as he sat down and began studying all that he had grabbed. This was going to by far be one of the most complex things he had ever attempted. 

 Raha first began brushing up on Aetherology and Magic use in general knowing that his half remembered, cursory knowledge would not be enough to attempt a feat such as this.

“If only you could see me now Krile,” he said sadly, “You would be standing there with that knowing smirk reminding me that you were right all along.”

He regretted not listening more intently to her lectures, it would have made this easier. But he had been a half cocked fool that thought he knew it all and didn't need what would be considered trivial in his opinion.

“And yet I should have known better. After all, all of Allag’s technology was infused with magic in various ways. Hmm I will also have to somehow tie the spell into the workings of the temporal engine….best look at some of the engineering manuals as well….”

He also realized that he would need vast quantities of aether to even attempt this. Which meant he would also have to recalibrate the Tower’s Aetheric Absorption systems. Due to the Lights dominance the aether from the sun would be too feeble to actually call upon.

But, I could reset the Tower to absorb the ambient Light aspected aether that surrounds us in abundance and potentially aid in defending the Tower and the surrounding settlement along with the barriers. If the Light’s influence is weaker it might just help cause trouble for the Eaters and give the Tower ample supplies of energy.

He had a lot of work ahead of him. Attempting to create something he had no way of knowing would even work. But he was not about to let that stop him. He had already known he had an example to look to. One that often made the impossible possible. A man who never gave up no matter how hard the road was.

“And I will save you old friend,” Raha murmured, “Even if it is the last thing I do. For those who sent me here, for those who lamented your loss. For your sake and theirs I will stop the Eight Umbral Calamity.”

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 50

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

Living in an apartment so full of various enchantments that you couldn't move without bumping into one certainly had its perks, but your favourite was the space enhancement that made sure the apartment could actually fit everything you wanted it to.

In their original state, both floors of the apartment weren't small on their own, but as your moving in progressed, you quickly realized that the amount of both your and Loki's belongings overran the space you'd been given. 

The solution was pretty standard and required bending only a few minor laws of physics and logic.

Whoever dared venture into your apartment now would get quite the surprise in the form of rooms that felt a little too big for the kind of space indicated by the building's construction, and doors leading to places that absolutely shouldn't be able to fit so close together and yet stubbornly did. But however much you loved the whole apartment in general, you couldn't deny that your absolute favourite part of it was the giant monstrosity of a bathtub that Loki was absolutely uncompromising about.

Laying in it now, you couldn't blame him.

The passage of time was forgotten as the two of you soaked in the scented water, kept warm for what felt like hours, and might've actually been that long. If it was up to you, you would've stayed there forever and enjoyed Loki's firm, warm body, the pleasantly dimmed lights and the few bottles of whatever Loki had hidden for special occasions.

Well, the bottles weren't there originally, but as your clean up progressed and both of you started to feel like something other than a walking biological disaster, a need for celebration rose. You weren't sure how the things progressed from the first bottle to the small pile of them on the floor by the bathtub, but you found yourself straddling Loki's lap, completely drunk and unable to move despite one of your legs going completely numb.

"Remind me to never drink with you again," you mumbled into Loki's neck. 

"I did."

"Then be more convincing…"

With your cheek plastered to him, you felt rather than heard Loki's chuckle. The rumble did unruly things to the contents of your stomach.

"I'm gonna puke."

"Please save the last of my dignity and at least aim away from me." Despite Loki's words, he didn't move a bit and if you didn't know him any better, you'd guess he was feeling similar sensations. 

With his head leaning on the tub's edge and his eyes closed, Loki was indeed fighting against the world spinning around him. The warm embrace of your body pressed into his and the water scented with jasmine were his only anchors in the chaotic mess his head tried to sort out. Truth be told, he had forgotten the full potential of the Asgardian alcohol, and especially the type he had stored for a perfect occasion. It was like a blow to all his senses, and as much as it was fun, Loki was starting to worry about his ability to ever walk out of that bathtub again. He certainly wouldn't attempt such an insanity now, with you weighing him down, so comfortably settled on his lap that you felt like an integral part of him. 

Loki tried, and failed, to convince himself it wasn't an excuse, and a pathetic one too.

"Do you think we're gonna get in trouble?" You asked, as if you knew you were on his mind.

"As petty as Odin is, I don't think he's going to execute us for stealing some alcohol…"

"I meant the stuff Thor was talking about. We kinda messed up the Moon, didn’t we?"

Loki hummed in a way that was definitely not an answer. One of his hands roamed over your exposed back, enjoying the soft curve and warm skin. The other stirred the water, making the soap bubble again and the temperature stay unchanged. Loki had to concentrate more than usual, which was partly because of the amount of alcohol consumed, and partly because his mind was slowly drifting away on soft tendrils of sleep.

"No one knows you there, and I wore my brother's face," Loki finally murmured, leaning his head back. "It'll be fine."

It, unfortunately, didn't know about those predictions, which was why It was interrupted by a certain boy's voice.

"Hey guys, are you okay?" Peter asked from the other side of the door, having let himself into the apartment. Again.

Loki groaned, even as he could feel your smile pressed to his chest. 

"We're fine," he said, louder than necessary. He winced as the sound seemed to erode his skull. 

"What about Barbara, though?" Peter was insistent. "She's scratching at the window from the outside… and I think she wants those pickles from the table?"

"You locked her outside?" You hissed, trying to look at Loki's completely innocent face, but the sudden movement only resulted in the world tilting to the side dangerously fast.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I love that bird dearly." Louder, he said to the boy, "She's only allowed to eat them outside!"

"Okay!" The answer was quick and cheerful and mercifully moving away as the boy grabbed the open jar and went outside.

Loki took a deep breath. The blessed silence once again enveloped the apartment. Through the cloud pressing on his hazy thoughts, Loki considered locking the apartment altogether. 

Another chilled bottle appeared in his hand, delightfully full and heavy. As much as he had tried to get drunk on Earth's alcohol, only the Asgardian kind seemed to do the job.

The drink burned his throat in precisely the manner he needed. It'd been so long since the two of you had a moment to yourself and could just relax without worrying about a thousand responsibilities. On most days, Loki enjoyed the kind of life he had somehow managed to secure himself. If he decided to be honest, Loki was still rather uncertain how it had happened. 

The long, curvy, and annoyingly labyrinthine road that started on the day the Avengers had decided to put him under your wing somehow ended up leading him to where he was now. Not literally, of course - as much as he loved the grand bathtub he had insisted on, Loki had in mind something grander spiritually. A place of comfort, but without the boundaries of a physical space bound to certain conditions and limitations. 

A home, but only if it could be a person. 

Loki supposed it could. Even as he drank again from the bottle, mudding his thoughts further, the philosophical conclusions he came to still felt right. 

Revelations such as these were worthy of sharing, lest they might be forever lost in one's memory. Loki wanted to share the wisdom granted to him by the unholy amount of Asgardian cider, but he had found you plastered to his chest, asleep. And drooling. 

Loki made sure the water didn't run cold as he too decided to join you in the dreams' escape. The quiet popping of the soap bubbles and the lavender scent hanging in the air lulled him quickly into a state of complete and utter comfort… 

"Brother, where are you hiding? 

…from which a rather brutish, and definitely unwelcome voice dragged him away. 

Loki started. The contents of a forgotten bottle escaped into the water. 

As the heavy steps sounded outside of the bathroom, it was clear the apartment was being searched through again. 

You swore. Loki agreed. 

"I'm going to," he hiccuped, "change him into a frog." 

"Barbara would devour him whole."

"Let them fight. He always prided himself to be a warrior."

Fortunately for Thor, even though he was not aware of the small mercy of the universe, Loki found himself too drunk to act on his words, despite his best attempts at conjuring the transformative spell.

But when his brother's thudding steps neared the bathroom again, with clear intent of dragging Loki out in whatever state he was, Loki was forced to make a very dire decision very quickly, or lest his quiet evening suffer a bitter end.

So Loki did what he had always done best, and spiced the world up with a tiny little trick.

You heard Thor approach the door, but you didn't have it in you to move and at least cover yourself up. The doorknob twisted and you heard it very well through the slight creak it always gave. Then you heard the door open - but it didn't.

Living in an apartment complex had its perks, and being able to hear your neighbors on occasion certainly wasn't one. Still, your gaze turned up when you heard a high-pitched scream and Thor's booming voice coming from the apartment above yours.

"He's going to kill you for that," you said.

"Given the vigor with which he was looking for me, I think he had a hefty list of reasons prepared already."

"That's fair."

As all good things have in common, they always come to a saddening end when you least expect them to. The conclusion that life was utterly unfair in its precipice was a natural one to come up with, even in the state of drunkenness. 

"I think it's time for us to go," Loki sighed.

A groan escaped you when the world tilted to the side. Getting out of the bathtub while completely, embarrassingly drunk was a feat that almost resulted in one broken neck and three broken limbs, but somehow both of you managed to scramble your way out. While you searched for clothes that had an annoying habit of duplicating right in front of your eyes, Thor's roars of fury sounded clear through the many walls separating you. 

You wondered if any of the neighbours would connect their unexpected guest to you.

You gave up on your search for the other sock and decided to only wear one. Trying to put it on was already hard as it was. "If you spelled all the doors in the building to lead astray, how are we getting out?"

"Don't worry," Loki hiccuped. "My brother dearest is too stupid to notice I didn't touch the windows."

You had never loved anything as much as you loved the walls in your apartment, their quiet support helping you get through the endless expanse of the living room. For reasons you elected to ignore, the swaying of the world only increased as you progressed, bumping into every single piece of furniture some idiot (most likely you the day before) had decided to put there.

"I don't think this is a good idea," you slurred when Loki opened the window, pickleless, owlless and impossibly high.

"Your intuition, my love, is right as always."

Loki managed to put his leg over the windowsill on the second try, which he deemed a great success. He also managed to get down on the other side with no life-threatening injuries, which was just as surprising.

His pride was short-lived when you tumbled down, knocking him off feet.

The few half-melted snowmen seemed to have a good laugh. The little garden was still winter-bare, and no grass cushioned the fall. Barbara, perched on top of Peter's head, hissed with obvious joy. 

The boy blinked. "Are you...sneaking out?" 

"No," Loki grunted in the same moment you said, "Yes."

Barbara ripped another pickle from the boy's hand. Life was short, especially after you died once, and there was only so much time she deemed worth looking at the two of you. She had far more pressing issues, like the impossibly narrow jar into which her head just wouldn't fit, and so left her reliant on the boy's nimble (and tasty) fingers.

"...are you sure?" The boy watched the two drunkards scramble to stand up. 

"We're just out for a walk."

"A long one."

Glass broke upstairs, followed by raised voices and what was undeniably a string of curses.

Loki looked at you. You looked at Loki. Another Loki looked at you. Unable to choose which to make eye contact with, you squinted and the two Lokis merged together—damn you were never drinking again. There was no way all of you would sneak out in time.

Barbara ripped another pickle to shreds.

"Hey, Peter," you cooed sweetly. "Do you happen to know a quiet little place to lay low for a while, my darling?"

Peter, the darling, did.

*****

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for no chapter last week, my university is going to kill me with that graduation paper I have to work on and reasearch and realize how little do I actually know about the subject I have to get a 70-pages long paper done. Heh.

But don't worry, this story is slowly nearing its end, and even though I have little time to work on new chapters, I'm doing my best and hope you'll enjoy them. Well, my life's pretty busy right now, and it stresses me out, so I'm not sure how regular the updates will be, but I promise, I'm not giving up on this story. I'm so happy about all the support I have received for this story, and grateful for all the comments it got! Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

[munzs-stuff]

Albus was feeling pretty good. The butterflies in his stomach and his unending, longing stare at Lorcan were thriving. His head was resting on his hands and he was, listlessly thinking of the things he’d like the beautiful object of his affection to do to him. Not that he was aware of what he was doing.

He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side, and looked to the side to furiously glare at the person who had delivered the blow, his best friend Scorpius Malfoy.

“Thinking about snogging Longbottom now are we?” Scorpius said smugly.

“No, actually. Thinking about how many times I should push your head down the fucking toilet,” Albus snapped back despite the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Ooooh, someone is blushing,” his cousin Rose sniggered.

“Rose? You too? And here I was thinking I could trust you. Is James the only one I can trust now?” Albus said in despair.

“No mate. I’m on Malfoy’s side here,” his brother said, visibly trying his best to hold in his laughter.

Albus looked at James horrified. James Sirius Potter agreeing with Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy? The sun had truly set in the east. He shook his head and shot one last glare at his traitor friends before stomping off somewhere quiet to read that book he’d been itching to start on.

He’d barely just snuggled up on the divan to read when the door creaked open and Lorcan stepped in. Albus felt his stomach drop and fill up with butterflies at the same time. It was really a feat of great marvel that he did not throw up right there on the beautiful persian carpet that decorated the floor of the Longbottoms’ parlor.

“Hey, um, what’s up? We didn’t really get the chance to speak before you marched off here,” Lorcan said shyly.

“Oh. Um, Scorpius was being a git, so I figured I’d ditch them all for a while to get some peace, yanno?” Albus managed without stuttering.

“Oh. Cool. It’s just that, Merlin this is awkward, so like, uh, I kinda saw you looking at me?” Lorcan stammered through his question.

“Oh. Oh. Don’t worry about that too much, I was thinking about things you know? Head in the clouds and all that,” Albus chuckled. “But hey, don’t look into it too much, you're really not my type, too airy for me,” he chuckled, trying to play it off.

“Oh. No need to worry then,” Lorcan said, as though not entirely convinced. He looked slightly confused. And hurt.

Albus swore under his breath. He was trying to play it off cool, not piss off his crush and bury whatever chances he had three feet under. He kicked at the carpet and sulked around a bit before going off to find his wanker friends.

Two hours later, Al was slightly drunk on some stolen firewhiskey and really did not need to see another dude being handsy with Lorcan. James had popped up with a few uncracked bottles of cheap firewhiskey and Albus, being in a mood, had decided to drink half a bottle in one go.

So he hung around the bushes for a while, waiting for this… dude to wander off alone so he could have a man-to-man session with him. A few minutes later, Lor left. Albus blew air through his teeth, smiling when he realised that this was his chance to fight for the only man he had ever loved and would ever love(well if you excluded Aunt Fleur’s french nephew who he had caught exactly two glimpses of last summer).

He stalked over to that wanker, pointed a finger at him accusingly.

“You!How dare you?” he slurred angrily.

“How dare I what?” the guys asked, a confused look on his face.

“He’s mine. You understand? Stay the fuck away?” Albus yelled at the poor chap.

Before he could even say anything, Albus lunged at him, punching him square in the face, stumbling blindly to the side due to his highly intoxicated state.

Albus lurched towards the chap, his vision blurring and his guts throwing up anything he had in his stomach on the guy. Albus felt a brief moment of pride at doing at least something before his knees crashed the ground and he passed out.

Albus woke up staring at the ceiling, a wicked headache splitting through his head. He turned his head slowly, taking in the familiar surroundings. He was in his room, back at home. How, he had no idea.

“Hullo ye lovesick drunkard,” his brother, James, chirped from his position perched on the windowsill. Albus though it looked rather impractical and uncomfortable.

Albus groaned, filled with utter humiliation and regret. He vaguely remembered right hooking someone because he was jealous that they were hanging out with Lorcan. Looking back, they were probably not even dating.

“Oh god, James. Is the poor lad okay?” Albus asked, groaning.

“He is, seeing that you completely missed. His clothes on the other hand, completely destroyed when you vomited all over him,” James said cheerfully.

Well, Albus thought to himself, it somehow went worse than I could ever imagine it to be. He shut his eyes again, embarrassment flooding him as his head throbbed until he passed out again.