#granted the last few replies i got were rejections but at least they told me

[izzy-b-hands]

I may have gotten basically nothing done today aside from a couple Cloud surveys and some job apps but

It's okay

I will do the dishes after work (aka the one thing i wanted done before work today that my brain did not cooperate with me on at all)

This shift will go...i want to say good. but they're already emailing us abt doing the thing that we found out at the work training got them fined by a major regulatory body and im like. The shift hasn't even started yet. pls. not already im not even clocked in (and can't be until ten mins before anyway). Can u save ur fucking bs for when I'm at least on the clock being underpaid to deal with it lmao

I will get thru my shift tonight. maybe that's the best i can hope for here. I'll take it, and after...dishes and maybe more fic writing if my brain is up to it

[parkers-gal]

Heyy. Could you repost the fic where reader announces She s pregnant but gets scared that Peter will reject her so she breaks up with him? (I had requested part 2 of the 2 parts if I'm not wrong.) You don't have to ofc! Love you 💙💙

yep, i’ll post part two too!

—

warnings: lol pregnancy, slight angst, cursing (characters are all 18+)

wc: 2k

There was a fine line between a lot of things, but being pregnant and not being pregnant was not one of those things. In hindsight, maybe Midtown should have told the students which condom brands were least effective, or maybe even May or Pepper. And just by luck, Y/N happened to have skipped her birth control pills for two days in a row, the two days she spent entirely with Peter. And now, though she didn't know it was inevitable, she was facing consequences she thought would come much later in life, if at all. 

What would her parents say? How would Peter even react? Would she keep it? Would Peter support her either way? 

She didn't want to find out the answers to any of the questions flying through her mind. In all honesty, she didn't want to ask the questions at all. Instead, she sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cabinets as she let tears slip in realization that this was going to change her life forever. 

Wiping off a few last stray tears, she tucked the test into the back of the cabinet before getting up and leaving the bathroom, grabbing her purse and making her way to the front door.

"Y/N, honey? Are you alright?" Her mother asked right before she left. "You were in there an awful long time, hun."

"'m fine, mom, just thinking. I'll be back, probably gonna get more of my stuff."

Y/N was just in the middle of moving out and into her own apartment. She was corning her last year of college, and she figured it was best to slowly transition into her own life as an independent adult. As of right now, her apprenticeship wasn't the best she could get, so she was only moving into the Avengers tower with the rest of the team until she got the promotion her mentor promised her. Despite being an avenger, she didn't actually work for Tony or Bruce, and she didn't depend on them as much as Peter did. She was still close with all of them, though. 

Walking through the double doors, she gave a small nod and smile to George, the man who stood on guard at the entrance of the tower. Making her way to the elevators, she pressed the button and debated on what she was going to say to Peter. 

The living quarters of the tower were two main floors, but the central living center had the kitchen, so most Avengers stayed there until "curfew," as Tony had called it. 

Making her way through the halls, she passed the kitchen, where Bucky, Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Natasha were located, talking and drinking what must've been one of Steve's old fashioned drinks. 

"Hey, Y/N," they greeted her individually. In response, she only nodded, trying to get to Peter as fast as possible. Furrowed brows and wide eyes they were, shocked at how closed off she was being. It was only when she left the room that Wanda gasped, staring at the spot Y/N had just been on. 

"What?" Nat said quickly, urgently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Back in Peter's room, Y/N had just knocked, Peter granting her access and she stepped inside, clutching her purse close to her as her breathing quickened and her pulse increased. 

"Hey, babe," Peter said, his back to her as he fiddled with something on the bookshelf. 

"P- .. Peter, we need to talk." 

At this, he spun around, glancing in her eyes to try and decipher what she was thinking and what she was about to say. What came next was not what he expected. 

"Okay."

"We need to break up."

"W-what? Why? I though- I thought w-"

"We just need to break up- I'm breaking up with you," she rushed out. 

"Baby, come on, let's talk about this. Tell me why. Did I do something? Did something happen? I can make it better, I can change- make things right, c'mon don't just-"

"Peter I'm breaking up with you," she said, her voice cracking as she finally allowed the tears to flood her eyes. Peter was full on crying as she turned around and left his room. Thirty seconds passed before he went sprinting out of the room after her. 

Wanda and Natasha had called just about every Avenger into the compound's kitchen, and just in time to see Y/N leaving with tearful eyes and Peter chasing after her. 

Wanda hadn't explained to anyone what she had read in Y/N's mind. Though they knew something was up, they weren't prepared to witness the action of the words (or thoughts). 

"Y/N," Peter breathed out. "Y/N!" he said again, gripping her wrist to spin her around. "Why? Why the fuck would you just drop that? What happened to us?"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Parker." 

"I'm not! I just want to know why the girl I'm in love with is leaving me so sudden! Don't you think I at least deserve to know why?"

A few more tears fell down her face before she exhaled. "I wish.. I wish I could tell you, Peter."

"Well why don't you?!"

"I- I can't."

"Did you stop loving me? Was that it? Did I do something?"

"I didn't stop loving you. I could never stop loving you-"

"Then why are you giving up on us?!" Peter exclaimed with defeat, both of his hands pulling at his hair before covering his face as he started crying again. 

Y/N stepped forward, hesitantly about to reach out to console him before deciding against it and leaving altogether. 

When she was gone, Wanda breathed loudly, Natasha doing the same. 

"Peter.." Nat said, walking towards him slowly. "Are you... alright-?"

"She just- did it!" Peter whined out, abruptly cutting her off. Natasha rushed forward to catch him and he gripped her tight as he cried out to whichever god cursed him.

"We need to talk," Wanda whispered to Nat, before filing out and leaving the two alone. 

***

"What the fuck was that about?" Sam exclaimed in the training room. The Avengers had resorted to the gym for some privacy, knowing neither Y/N nor Peter would come willingly unless they had scheduled training, which neither did. 

"Seriously, though," Bucky replied. "They were doing so well, things were going so great-"

"Okay everyone just sit down!" Wanda exclaimed, pacing back and forth as Natasha stood next to her, rubbing her forehead in thought. 

"Do you know why?" Steve asked after a moment. 

When Wanda didn't vocalize her response, merely making guilty eye contact, the Avengers knew. 

"Of course you know," Bruce said. 

"Okay, what's this about?" Tony said, coming through the doors, a few minutes late. 

"Y/N just broke up with Peter," Loki stated blandly.

"What the fuck?"

"I know, right?" Steve said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and sympathy for the pair. 

"And.." Tony glanced back and forth between Nat and Wanda and the rest of the crew. "Wanda knows?"

"Mhmm," Nat hummed. 

"Well, wouldn-"

"Y/N is pregnant," Wanda blurted out. 

The silence that overcame the group was deafening. Pure shock and surprise were overwhelming emotions as the heroes struggled to wrap their minds around the realization, the truth. 

"Holy fuck," Sam whispered. 

"That's why.. she broke up with Pete?" Bucky said. 

"Mhmm," Wanda hummed back quickly. "I could feel the anxiety she had. I think she let it get the best of her. She was still in shock, still panicking. I don't think she's known for long." 

"We have to do-"

"No, we don't do anything. Nobody says a thing, nobody does a thing," Natasha informed strictly. "I swear to fuck if any of you do something I will come for you myself. Let Wanda and me handle this. You all don't know the start about female anatomy." 

"Yes, ma'am," Bucky replied, the others nodding in agreement. 

***

About a week later, Y/N was walking into the training room. She saw Steve, Natasha, Peter, Tony, and Bucky standing around talking about something, and as much as she wanted to avoid him, she also knew that she had to attend training. 

"Hey, Y/N/N," Tony greeted. "I'm making some schedule changes."

"Okay.." she said after a moment, putting her bag on the bench as she glanced at his clipboard before making eye contact again. 

"Pete, you're in for four days a week, each a two hour session. You'll spar with Steve for two sessions, five mile runs with Nat, power training with Bucky and Sam, you know the drill."

"Y/N," he started, flipping a page. "I'm.. cutting your sessions to thirty minutes each. Only twice a week."

"What the fuck, why, Tony?" She asked.

"Yeah, that seems unreasonable and unfair. She gets less time and I get more?" Peter joined. 

"Well, I just want to be cautious with the baby on the way and all that," Tony said nonchalantly.

Time seemed to freeze as the group went dead silent, all except for Peter. 

"Baby? What baby? What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, glancing between Tony and Y/N. "Y/N? Ar- are you- are you pregnant?" 

She closed her eyes and exhaled, her hands clammy and sweaty as they were balled into fists.

"I'-I'm..."

"Is that why you broke up with me?" he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as the realization hit him. "You thought you'd leave me before I had the chance to do that do you?"

"I can't do this right now," Y/N breathed, rushing out of the room. Peter ran after her, and Natasha punched Tony in the arm once they had left. 

"Y/N, Y/N!" Peter exclaimed, catching up to her and spinning her around. "Is it true?"

She closed her eyes before nodding again. When she opened her lids, her eyes were glossy and red, "Yeah." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he whispered, voice cracking. 

"I don't- I don't know, Peter! I was so afraid you were going to break up with me or leave me or that you were going to hate me if I didn't keep it or that my parents would disown me or some shit like that! I just did it first to avoid it all."

"Avoid it all?" Peter repeated. "I love you, Y/N," he stated, grabbing both of her hands. "A baby isn't going to change that, whether you keep it or you don't. It's your body, so it's your choice," he said, and her head rolled in disbelief as she sighed. "I love you," he stated again, tightening his grip on her hands. "And you're carrying my baby. Did you ever think I'd be happy?"

"Peter we're so young, basically fresh out of high school-" 

"I know it's unplanned, Y/N, and that makes it so scary. But I would never abandon you like that."

"I really love you, Peter," Y/N huffed out, her tears beginning to free fall now. 

"I know baby," Peter said while pulling her into his chest and embracing her for the first time in a week. 

After a few moments, Y/N's breathing evened out and Peter spoke up. "Are... are you going to keep it?" he whispered, kissing the top of her head. 

Her throat was sticky from crying, and after a few seconds, she answered. "I am." 

Peter held her at arm's length to look at her, really look at her, and he kneeled down and kissed her stomach, voicing his excitement and feelings. 

The Avengers, who were watching from the doorway of the training room, smiled in relief, a few of them wiping stray tears and rubbing their eyes to regain their composure. 

"God they're growing up," Tony whispered. 

"Not just yet," Pepper fired back, glancing at the pair before grinning herself, thankful they were in this together. 

(part two is out)

[harrywritingsbyme]

So I’m a dark skin girl and I always wonder is Harry gets involved with women that are not white skinny tall blonde model like all his exes. Can u write something about that? Maybe they are friends but reader is into him but keeps us to herself cause she is sure he only date the same type of girls.

Feelings

A/N: I really needed and wanted to write this one. I feel like us chocolate girlies can be a bit left out some times, and it sucks. So I want to do/write more things that are specifically tailored to us black girls because we need to see and read more of it. Also, I don’t want this to be a thing where it’s putting anyone down or being melodramatic towards things that are at the end of the day out of our control. But this is just the way that some people (including myself at times) feel, and everyone should be aware of this. I did made sure that there is something in here that everyone can relate to in some way. So I hope you guys enjoy🙃 

4.5k Words

You rarely opened up. Most of your relationships were surface level, and you never fully expressed yourself the way that one would normally. For the longest time, even since you were a child, you never fully opened up to anyone. You would just go about your normal routine as if everything were fine, and bottle up everything you were feeling. Even when you were going through some of the worst times of your life, you still managed to keep face and put on a display of being okay, even though you were on the verge of dying inside. Still, you were able to get through most of your life like this and you were fine with things being the way they were. That is, until a certain someone fell into your life. 

When you first met Harry, it was like a breath of fresh air. Even though you still had your wall up and didn’t feel the urge to fully express yourself, you still felt like you could come to him with everything if you wanted to. He was just like the other people you’d met in the past who were nice and willing to get close to you. But at the same time, he still managed to be different than anyone you’d met in the past. You felt a sense of closeness to him that you couldn’t readily explain and that was unlike anyone you’d met before. He made you want to express yourself and release all of the emotions you had pent up inside of you for what felt like forever. It was like he was the person that you needed in your life who could draw out these things out of you. And after a period of time, he was in fact able to do this. 

At first, you were beyond anxious to be open and honest to someone about your feelings. But over time, the wall you’d built began to come down and you just allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Harry. And he was able to do the same. You both were able to lower your guards around each other and actually be free. The two of you were able to create a strong and solid friendship that would span across almost 3 years. Whenever something happened in each others lives, you both were each others first call. It was a friendship that neither of you wanted to take for granted. And you both, especially you, made sure to appreciate every moment and each other. 

Your appreciation for Harry went a bit deeper though.  

 You guys’ overall dynamic in the past year hadn’t changed at all. You two still did just about everything together and had a great time in each others company. It was your personal flow that had undergone a drastic change. You began to develop feelings that had gone far beyond the boundary of being platonic. They’d grown to be something beyond the scope of a simple camaraderie. You started to develop romantic feelings for your best friend. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, it was normal for someone to develop these feelings towards a person they spent a lot of time with and are close to. It was just that the success rate for transitioning out of a loving, close, and healthy friendship to a loving, romantic, and healthy relationship was slim to none. And for you and particular, you felt like your chances were in the negatives. 

It’s already a rough thing to deal with when you find out that the person you have feelings for doesn’t feel the same way towards you. But these pangs of rejection are on a completely different level when you realize that you’re not even their type. Now you didn’t know for a fact what Harry’s “type” was. You’d asked him on separate occasions and his answer was always the same. He’d simply tell you that “if somethings there, then it’s worth a shot”. And you’d always respond with a “that makes sense”, deciding to not go there all together. Even though he said that he didn’t have a type, you knew that in his subconscious, he did in fact have one. There were things about you that didn’t at all align with his exes as a whole. If you had to be blunt, you weren’t skinny, tall, blonde, and white. You were a thick, average in height, dark haired, dark skinned, black woman. The differences between the two were uncanny and that was perfectly fine. You welcomed and celebrated everyones differences. And so did Harry; when it wasn’t his love life.

He just didn’t venture out into other things when it came to his love and personal life. You could honestly say that this was true because you watched it all from the sidelines. You were a bystander and sounding board to Harry during his most recent relationship, and just in general. You recognized the pattern in the women he’d choose to pursue. You’ve even seen in the magazines and on the internet, the people he’d been involved with in the past. And they all were extremely similar. 

Seeing all of this made you think that something was wrong with you. What made them so special? You just wanted him to look at you the same way he looked at them. Developing all of these newfound feelings caused you to begin to slip back into your old ways. You began holding in and internalizing everything when it came to this. You’d put on a brave face and act as if everything was okay. You were putting all of your energy into making Harry believe that you were fine. And you successfully did that. He had no clue as to what and how you were feeling, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted to do was lose the person who not only you cared deeply about, but the person who cared deeply about you. You couldn’t lose your best friend.

This endless cycle went on for months. You kept these feelings to yourself and you just kept things going. You hated doing this, but it was what you thought was the best for you. You hated the thought of losing Harry over this. But at the end of the day, you could only take but so much. You could relate this entire thing to a sponge. It takes in all the water it possibly can and eventually, little drops will begin to spill out when it’s reached its maximum capacity for water. You were the sponge. You had been internalizing or harboring all of these feelings for such a long period of time that eventually you were going to reach your tipping point. It was going to get to a place where you’d have to release all of it and tell Harry how you truly felt. And you really wanted to do that. In the past, talking about your feelings was something that you tried, and eventually swore you’d never do. You even tried therapy, but it just wouldn’t work for you. But with Harry, you wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt. So keeping this inside for so long after not holding it all in for a little over two years was a definite struggle. 

In all of this though, you had no idea that the struggle you faced in holding everything inside was nowhere near the level of struggle you faced when you finally let it all out. 

The end of the week had finally came which meant that it was you and Harry’s night to hang out and talk about you guys’ week…even though you two talked just about everyday. This just gave you two an excuse to hang out. After you two made and ate dinner, you two decided to head outside and sit by the pool to enjoy Harry’s view and watch the sunset. The conversation between the two of you seamlessly bounced from subject to subject, and it managed to bounce all the way to relationships. 

“Any hot dates comin’ up?” Harry asks beside you, taking another swig from his glass of wine.

  “No. None that I know of at least. You?” You reply, redirecting the question back to him. 

“Me neither, but I have been talking to someone for the past couple of days.” Harry replies. 

“And you haven’t told me this?! As your best friend, I feel offended.” You joke with him, sitting up from the chair to get a better look at him. 

“Don’t be offended, you’ll always be my number one.” Harry coos with a laugh. “It’s nothing major or serious I guess.” He continues. 

“Got a picture?” You ask. Asking him this was a big mistake. 

“I think so.” Harry replies, pulling his phone out of his pocket. After a few seconds, he hands the phone over to you and there it was. A girl who looked exactly like everyone else he’s dated.

“Oh, she looks just like everyone else you’ve dated.” You hum amusedly, handing the phone back to him. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have said that. But you had a pretty good buzz going from the drinks Harry made, and the glass of wine you were currently working with. So your lips were a little bit looser than normal. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks with a very confused tone.

“No offense, but she looks like most of your exes.” You repeat, thinking back to the picture Harry just showed you.

“No she does not.” Harry says adamantly, brushing off your comment. 

“It’s okay Harry, we all know that you have a type.” You softly laugh. You were only teasing him...right?

“I do not have a type Y/n! Where is this coming from?” You could hear in his voice that he was genuinely confused. 

“This is coming from your best friend who’s seen you in a relationship with someone who not only looks like the girl you just showed me, but also girls before her.” You explain. 

“Well tell me these similarities because I’m still not following.” 

“Tall, skinny, blonde, and-“ You didn’t even think about the last and final one before saying it. “white.” You finish, listing off every last similarity. 

 “No they’re no-“ Harry couldn’t even finish his own sentence. He realized that it was in fact true. He didn’t know why he’d never seen the pattern before. He also couldn’t wrap his head around why you were so up and arms about it. When he looked at you, he could tell that you weren’t feeling the best about this conversation. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or him just being really bad at comprehension. He just wanted to make sense of it all and where it was coming from. 

“Can you honestly say that I, or anyone that looks like me for that matter would have an equal shot at being with you?”

There it was. The crazy thing about it all was that the question you just asked him, wasn’t even the bulk of what you really wanted to tell him. You weren’t even expecting to talk to him about this at all. You thought that you’d have a little bit more time to collect your thoughts, but all of this came completely out of left field. 

Asking Harry that question, along with the entire conversation in general was like stabbing yourself in the heart. It wasn’t even a full conversation and you were already dying inside. Every second of silence from Harry that went by was like a twist to the knife that was already buried inside you. You wanted to blame Harry for the horrible way you were feeling, but you couldn’t. You wanted to blame yourself for even bringing it up, but you couldn’t do that either. All you could do was sit there and try your best to muster up the tiniest bit of strength to pick yourself up and leave. Your body felt extremely heavy and you just wanted to get out of there.

Without uttering a single word to Harry, you finally pick yourself up and you walk away from him and the entire situation. Harry was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that he did in fact have a type, but seeing you walk away from him like that crushed him. He felt like you were not only walking away from him, you were also walking out of his life. He felt absolutely crushed and completely helpless. He was all alone. He had so many thoughts and feelings running around in his head that he couldn’t even chase after you to help him figure them out. And by the time he would finally build up the strength and courage to go after you, you would’ve already been gone. 

When you walked back into the house, you didn’t waste any time gathering your belongings that you’d brought with you before leaving out the front door. Since you were drinking, you decided to just call an Uber and just come back to get your car in the morning. For the next 5 minuets, you just stood outside Harry’s home. Staring blankly at whatever was around, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes, and trying to take your mind off of everything. 

You were so glad that the driver wasn’t trying to engage in a conversation with you because you weren’t in the mood at all. You just wanted complete silence. If you were to talk, you were going to burst into tears. And the last thing you wanted to do was permanently scar your Uber driver, so you decided to just stay silent. 

When you finally got to your building, you rushed out a quick thank you to the driver and you sprinted through the building and up to your apartment. The moment you stepped foot inside was the first time you breathed in the past two hours. As soon as you shut your front door you just collapsed into a heaping pile of tears. You were pretty much sobbing against your front door. This was the worst you’d ever felt in a really long time. You felt a mixture of anger, sadness, and pain. This was one of the sole reasons why you hated letting people in. Bringing those walls down meant that you were exposed and vulnerable. You had no defense what so ever. You tore those walls down just to have someone tear you apart, and leave you to pick up the pieces. You were torn apart by the person you needed the most. 

While you were at home bawling your eyes out, Harry was still wrapping his mind around what you said and what he didn’t say. The buzz he once had going was now gone, and his mind was all over the place. He didn’t even move from where he was sitting. He just sat outside and thought about it all. Harry realized that he not only had a type, but you had feelings for him. He thought that you only considered him to be a close friend and nothing more. But when you said “I, or anyone who looks like me…” he was able to read in between the lines to understand that you were mainly talking about yourself. It crushed Harry even more when he thought about the possibility of you not thinking that you were good enough for him. Simply because of his “preferences”, that were unbeknownst to him from the past. The fact that he made you feel this way was beyond gut wrenching and he just wanted to go back in time and tell you that the only type he has is you. That was one of the reasons that he clung to you the way he did. He looked to you as the model of what he could ever want in a partner. He always looked to you for your opinions and guidance because you were one of the best people that had ever came into his life. But instead of saying all of this, what he truly felt deep down, he didn’t say anything at all. He let you slip out of his grasp, and he didn’t know how to get you back. He didn’t even know if he was going to get you back. In that moment, he realized that his love for you went way beyond the general scope of being best friends. It wasn’t until 2 am that Harry was able to pick himself up from the lounge chair outside and go upstairs to bed. And even then, he still felt horrible. He was numb. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t end up going to bed until 5 am because he couldn’t stop crying and worrying. What made him completely break down was the fact that he couldn’t even call you. He couldn’t talk to the one person that always helped him through his dark times and picked him up. He knew what it was like to hit rock bottom, but this was an all-time low for Harry. 

That night was officially at top of the list for the worst nights of you and Harry’s lives. 

The next day was just as bad, if not worse than the last. You ended up falling asleep on the couch, and Harry couldn’t even get out of bed. The both of you were a mess and you didn’t know what to do. You avoided any type of communication with each other. The only time you and Harry interacted was to tell him that you were using the gate code to get your car from his driveway. After that, there was radio silence. The simple thought of each other could bring you both to tears. This entire ordeal didn’t last for just a day or two. It lasted for almost a week. The both of you were too emotional and broken to even function. You were using the time you saved up on your job to sulk around at home and stay inside your bubble sadness and heartbreak. And Harry was neglecting all of the things that he needed to do so that he could stay in bed and try to take his mind off of you. But after what was going on to be day 5, Harry couldn’t take anymore of this. It wasn’t because he was feeling horrible. It was because Harry knew that he broke your heart. He had the clearest picture of you at home, completely broken up because of him. He could almost feel your pain and he hated it. He needed to tell you his true feelings and beg you to forgive him. He couldn’t sit around anymore and not talk to you. You were not only his best friend, you were also the woman that he loved. In the days of him sitting at home and thinking, he realized that he didn’t give it a shot. He didn’t give you a shot. He was constantly chasing after something that was already his and right in front of him. 

After a long much needed shower, Harry got himself dressed and ready to go over to your place. On the way over, Harry made a stop to the florist that was in your direction and picked up the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could possibly buy. Not only were they your favorite flower, but you always seemed to gravitate towards the yellows because “they make my skin tone pop.” And they certainly did. Even remembering those little things could make Harry want to just burst into tears. For the rest of the drive to your apartment, Harry practiced all of the points he wanted to make out loud. He made sure that he remembered every last thing he wanted to say…and there was a lot. He was also preparing for the moment where you’d tell him that you didn’t want to talk to him ever again. Even though it may have seemed a bit extreme, he could understand why. He hurt you, and that’s the consequence that he’d have to pay. As he got closer and closer to your building, Harry could feel the butterflies in his stomach intensify and his lunch slowly make it’s way back up. He wasn’t feeling good at all, but he couldn’t turn his back on you and not try at all to redeem himself.

Between the time Harry got out of his car to when he was finally standing at your door was rough. As he got closer, his body got weaker. He was feeling a combination of embarrassment, sadness, anger, and worry. These feelings were so strong that he had to take two minuets before knocking on your door to stop himself from either throwing up or crying. Eventually he was able to get himself somewhat together and finally knock on your door.

When you hear the knock, you were sitting on your couch with your fluffy bathrobe on (that just so happened to be the one Harry brought you during one of his trips to Italy) with a pint of ice cream in hand, watching whatever was on the tv at the moment. You wanted to ignore the knock all together and just focus on your ice cream and the tv but you didn’t want to leave the person at the door hanging. So you reluctantly sit the cup down and you drag yourself to the door. When you look out through the peephole, your anxiety in that moment skyrockets. What in the world was Harry doing at your front door?! Even though you looked like an absolute mess and you didn’t want to talk to him in that moment, you still open the door for him.

When the door swings open and he sees you the waterworks begin all over again. He could see how puffy your face was from crying and how disheveled you looked and he hated it. He could feel the warm tears bubbling up in his eyes, but he was trying to do his best to keep them back. The two of you just stand there before Harry decides to talk. 

“M’so sorry Y/n.” That’s all he could say. He wasn’t just apologizing for what he said or didn’t say. He was also trying to say that he was a sorry person. It took him losing you for what felt like an eternity to really see how amazing you are and how much you contributed to his life.

“Wanna come in?” You ask him, stepping to the side to let him into your apartment. In that moment Harry just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and never let you go. He wanted to feel your warm and happy disposition that was now being clouded because of him. He wanted his Y/n back. When he walks inside, he quickly kicks his shoes off at the door and follows you into the kitchen.

“I got these for you.” He whispers, sitting the large bouquet on the counter and sitting on the other side.

“Thanks.” You whisper back to him, sending a soft smile his way. You wanted to almost to reassure Harry that you weren’t mad at him anymore. You were just sad and heartbroken. You never had feelings like these in such a large magnitude before. And because of this, you weren’t expecting any of what happened.

You silently turn away from him to grab the two vases you had in the cabinet and you sit them down on the counter in front of Harry. 

“I’m sorry if I overreacted on Friday. I just…” you mumble, beginning to unwrap the pretty flowers that were laying on the counter. You were trying to get your thoughts together but it was so hard. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was all my fault for not saying anything or acknowledging you.” When he says that, your breaths become shakier and a tear slips from your eye. You continue to keep your focus on the flowers as you try to compose your next sentence in your head. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice Harry coming around to your side of the counter. He softly pulls your hands away from the flowers and he pulls you into his body.

 That was the moment you needed. You thought your release was over the past few days but they were only building up to this. Feeling his arms securely wrapped around you was the only thing you wanted or needed from him. Feeling and hearing your cries only made Harry cry too. The both of you just stood there in your kitchen holding each other as you both poured your hearts out to each other through your tears. This time, not saying anything was saying everything. The both of you could feel what the other was feeling and wanted to say. It was like a large weight was lifted off of you both. After a few more moments of crying and being in your arms, Harry needed to get one thing off of his chest. When he pulls away from you he cups both of your cheeks in his hands and he looks right into your eyes. He wanted to make sure that you knew that he meant every last word that was coming out of his mouth. 

“I can’t even explain how sorry I am Y/n. You mean the world to me and I can’t even fathom the idea of not having you in my life. Seeing you completely broken the other night haunts me everyday and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that. After not having your in my life, even if it was only a few days, I realized that I can’t live without you. I’ve spent so much time and energy looking for my match when I didn’t even bother to look right in front of me. The only type that I have is you. You’re absolutely stunning, inside and out. I feel like a proper dick for making you feel like you weren’t good enough for me. It’s me who’s not good enough. I let you down and I’ll never forget that. You’ve never left my side in the past 3 years and I couldn’t even give you a simple answer. I love you so much and I’ll never stop.” When Harry says this, the knife that was once burrowed in your heart was gone and the wound is patched up as if it never happened. Sure it’ll take time for it all to completely go away, but this was a hell of a good start. 

“I love you so much.” You whimper, feeling another heavy round of hot tears cascade down your face. Harry then pulls your head towards his and presses a long, warm kiss right onto your forehead. That, along with his previous words got rid of the clouds. You were happy again. Your once full sponge was now empty. This meant that you could fill it up again, only this time with feelings of love and happiness. You could finally retire from building walls around yourself and continue experiencing the good that came from being vulnerable. 

Masterlist

[floralseokjin]

The Zoom Halloween Party

⇢ and beyond timeline (after crystallised)

[saga index] [drabble index]

 kim seokjin x reader // slice of life, humour // 2,556 words  

a/n; thank you to all the anons who gave me ideas for this halloween drabble, it wouldn’t exist without you! 

“I have to say your costumes are pretty lame this year, you guys.”

“We’re having a Halloween party over fucking zoom, forgive us for not going all out.” 

Seokjin bit straight away, unable to help it. He and Namjoon were like cat and mouse at all times, but even you had to admit to being offended by your friend’s dismissal. 

Halloween was finally here, and while you couldn’t celebrate in person together, the marvels of technology were letting you celebrate virtually – although this was more like a Halloween hang out than a Halloween party. 

“I’m just saying,” Namjoon shrugged. “Hoseok went all out for his.” 

You looked over at Hoseok’s screen, watching him smile smugly. You had to admit he made a great Joker, but it was also the year 2020... He and his girlfriend, Nora were like two years behind with the whole Joker and Harley Quinn gimmick, it was old now. 

Seokjin rolled his eyes, willing to argue black and blue. “It’s only good because his mom helped him with the makeup.” 

“Oh shut up, you’re just jealous because me and Hoseok will win best dressed tonight!” Nora scoffed under Hoseok in her own little screen. 

Pouting like a baby, your boyfriend crossed his arms. “I’m not voting for you.” 

“If anything, I should win. I make a mighty fine Batman.” 

Attention back on Namjoon now, you all had to agree. But maybe that was because everyone was feeling sorry for him tonight. He was after all, the only single one amongst you. There was Jin and you, Lina and Jimin, Hoseok and Nora, and even though Sandeul was on his own tonight, he had Jess, who was working the night shift tonight. Two months ago there had also been Namjoon and Hana, but not anymore... Let’s just say Namjoon wasn’t having the best of time lately... Getting dumped during a pandemic wasn’t ideal. So he’d paired with Hobi and Nora tonight in some sort of DC-esque collab. He was definitely winning best dressed tonight, but maybe he’d see it as a pity vote… 

“You’re body looks amazing in that suit, Joon,” you complimented, hearing Lina hum in supportive agreement. 

“Hey!” Seokjin exclaimed, sounding mighty offended as he looked your way. You were smushed together on the couch, the takeout you’d ordered on your laps, but you were pretty full now, a belly full of wine already. 

“The devil and an angel though.” Jimin’s voice sounded awfully judgemental. “Come on guys, so basic.” 

“Well, who the hell did you to come as?” Seokjin was loud. 

“Zombie Jim Halpert and Pam Beesly,” Lina replied as if your boyfriend was dumb. 

“Lame,” Seokjin scoffed. “Half of these guys haven’t even watched The Office.” 

“It’s a way more original idea than yours.”

You scoffed. “Um, this is the epitome of everyone’s sexual fantasy, I’ll have you know.” 

“Whose?!” Lina roared, wrinkling her nose. She and Jimin were also squished together, but on his bed, the camera angle giving you an amazing shot of their chins... Not that you would tell your best friend that, of course. 

“We all know what they’re doing after this then,” Sanduel stated. He was dressed as some character from a game he and Seokjin played (a lot.) Nerds.  

“Stop,” Hoseok whined. “Does that mean you guys fucked as The Addams family couple last year?”

“Of course it does,” Namjoon replied matter-of-factly. 

“Jesus.” 

Ah yes, you two really had out done yourselves last year for Namjoon and Hoseok’s joint Halloween party. Thinking about it maybe your devil and angel costumes were quite lame this year…

“As if you didn’t guess,” Lina laughed. “They were reciting all those weird lines practically dry humping in the kitchen at one point.” 

That was your cue, slamming into action, although as luck would have it you had re-watched The Addams Family two nights ago. You gripped Seokjin’s face, yanking him to look at you. “Seokjin, last night you were unhinged.” You began dramatically. “You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me.” A pause for effect. “Do it again!” 

Seokjin took your hand, in character immediately. He leaned down to kiss your knuckles. “Cara mia.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to purr out mon cher in your best French accent but you were interrupted by Namjoon’s gagging noises. “That’s it, I’m leaving.” 

Seokjin snapped his head around, unamused. “Bye.” 

Everyone laughed… just before Hoseok sighed. “Aw, this makes me so depressed. I miss last year, when things were simpler.” 

“This was the worst year to officially become an adult.” Nora joined in with a whine. 

They were 100% correct. There couldn’t have been a worse year to graduate… The past few months had been so stressful but thankfully you were now in a much more stable place. Granted, you hadn’t been able to start the post-graduate internship you’d bagged right before the pandemic hit yet but eventually it would happen, and in the meantime you still had your retail job – and your savings. 

Seokjin had truly lucked out, although his job at his father’s company had been set in stone since high school. He was working remotely until the end of the year (hopefully), rocking that business on top, casual down bottom fashion that he was so gleefully fond of – think a dress shirt and sweatpants ensemble – but you were so incredibly proud of him for adjusting so well after this shitfest of a year. He was your sexy, serious businessman. 

Your friends hadn’t been as lucky though – well, mainly Hoseok and Namjoon who had recently moved back home with their parents while they job hunted. (That’s why the former and Nora were on separate screens – she still lived close by for work.) Lina hated her new job and Jimin still had a year left at college, so maybe he was better off at the moment... Sanduel and Jess were okay too, and had recently moved in with one another, leaving you and Seokjin to… follow suit… 

It came as a surprise to you both, but it made more sense than the two of you living alone. You’d already grown used to it during those couple of months of lockdown at the start of the year and it felt weird after he’d left... It was a big step, but an easy one once you’d found the most perfect apartment to rent together. (You couldn’t officially live with one another in that shoebox of an old apartment, but it had been sad to leave it – you’d shared so many good times there.) It had only been about six weeks since you’d become official roomies, but you were loving every second of domestic bliss. Despite this crazy year, things were on the up, and you were very happy. 

“Now we’re freshly graduated bums.” Namjoon moaned, knocking back the last of his beer.

Seokjin laughed. “Speak for yourself.” 

“We can’t all have a CEO for a dad,” Namjoon shot. 

“That sounds like a you problem.” 

You pushed at your boyfriend’s shoulder, silently telling him to behave. Where was the sympathy for his heartbroken friend?

“At least you’re not stuck doing online classes.” Jimin piped up. 

“I’d actually kill to be back there,” Namjoon chuckled. “I’m sick of receiving rejection emails.” 

“Don’t give up hope, bro.” Hoseok told him. “I have an interview next week so fingers crossed.” 

Nora squealed. “I hope you get it, babe. You need to get your ass back here. I miss you.” 

You all missed him. And Namjoon. Even if you couldn’t all hang out like you were once able to, it was strange to think they were both living in different cities now. Last year seemed like an eternity ago, all you had were memories and even then they were murky. 

“Guys, please,” Namjoon wailed, forehead hitting the screen as he threw forward dramatically. “One of us is single here.” 

“Sorry.” 

In fact, you all felt the need to apologise, a string of them following for no real reason other than you felt really bad for the guy. You knew he’d find a job soon, that wasn’t the problem really – whatever the company they’d be a fool to turn him down – you were just concerned about his mood. Getting dumped had come out of the blue so he was still adjusting, all while his life turned upside down in other ways too. 

He hadn’t lost all sense of humour though, his trademark smirk growing across his face a few moments later. “So who will end up fucking on camera first?” 

Amongst the groans, Sanduel scoffed. “Probably Mr and Mrs. Devil.” 

“I’m an angel,” you corrected, a glass of wine back in your hand now. “Also, why would we fuck on camera? You guys don’t deserve the show.” 

“God, you’re so drunk,” Lina screeched. She wasn’t exactly sober herself. Beside her Jimin winced at the volume. 

“Of course I’m drunk, Lina, this is the first proper chance I’ve had in months.” Getting drunk alone was pretty miserable, now you had an excuse. 

“So it’s definitely them who’ll start fucking first…” Hoseok muttered. 

Seokjin heard him loud and clear though. He hooked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. “Yeah if we leave randomly you know this angel got horny for some devil dick.” 

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed, pushing at his chest. He just laughed, reaching down to kiss you. 

He did look mighty fine dressed as a devil though. Yeah, the red cape was basic but so were your angel wings and halo, but with his dark hair pushed back above his forehead, two red devil horns visible and his eyeshadow off the scale (your doing), he made a very, very sexy Satan! 

Jimin pulled a face. “You’re actually going to fuck in those costumes, aren’t you?” 

“Of course we are.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what Halloween’s all about.” 

“No, it’s not,” Nora laughed. 

“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised,” Sandeul sighed before shovelling down some candy corn. 

“You know them better than anyone,” Namjoon chuckled. 

“I was the first to know! Sworn to secrecy for weeks!”

“Yeah, and she didn’t tell me for so long,” Lina whined. Even though it was ages ago now you were still pretty sure she was salty about it. 

Hoseok snickered. “It was because she was embarrassed to be fucking him.” 

You scoffed, about to refute his claims but Sanduel had more to say apparently. “And then I had to deal with Jin moping around when she dumped him for that basketball player.” 

“She didn’t dump me,” Seokjin protested. “We won’t together then.” 

“Bro, you were still moping though.” 

“Awh, you guys,” you whined, running your fingers through the hair on the back of Seokjin’s head. “Stop teasing him.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek but he moved, stealing one from your lips instead. 

“Great Deul, you’ve started them off again.” Hoseok moaned. 

“I don’t care anyway. The amount of times I’ve heard them going at it has made me immune.” 

“Sanduel, we’re not that bad!” You complained, leaning forward to place your glass down on the coffee table. 

Seokjin had your back. “As if we haven’t heard you and Jess fuck before.” 

That however was not at all interesting to your friends though. They blatantly ignored it for a more interesting direction of topic.  

“Did you ever catch them?” Jimin asked, sounding weirdly excited. 

“No actually, which is baffling.” 

“You nearly did – multiple times,” Seokjin informed him, which instantly turned Sanduel grey. Not bothered, my ass. 

“Why are you guys so obsessed with our sex life?” You whined loudly. Was theirs that boring? 

“Ooo, let’s play a game!!” Lina exploded suddenly, sitting up, her head now cut off from the screen. “Who’s the freakiest!!!” 

Seokjin turned to you gleefully. “We got this in the bag, babe.” 

In your eyes, the questions were quite tame, so yes, you and Seokjin really were scoring first place left and right. Although you had a hunch Lina was holding back information. As her best friend you knew what she was like and she was being awfully quiet for someone who’d suggested the game… 

“Where’s the weirdest place you’ve ever boned?” Nora asked, six questions in. 

Seokjin didn’t even need a second. “Namjoon’s bedroom.” Your eyes bulged immediately, surprised he’d gone there. 

“What?” Namjoon choked. 

“Sorry, man. It just kinda happened.” Seokjin glanced at you, deeply amused. Poor Namjoon didn’t need more bad news. 

“You guys have fucked in my bedroom?�� 

“Well, technically it’s not your bedroom anymore, but yeah,” you shrugged.  

“When?” 

The third degree was real. “A while back.”  

“What the fuck you guys,” he groaned, his face a picture. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Lina couldn’t help but add. 

“You, be quiet!” You warned, although you knew she wouldn’t spill. Your secret was safe with her. 

Namjoon was looking more and more scared by the second. “What the fuck did you guys do in there?” Seokjin just laughed loudly. “Did you at least clean up?” He got no reply. He was deadly serious with his next question. “Did you make Ryan watch?” 

“Namjoon!” Seokjin cried, practically wiping tears from your eyes. Maybe he was more drunk than you… You hadn’t realised. “He’s a stuffed animal.” 

“That plush is all I have now.” 

“Pity, the guy’s recently been dumped. This is bullying,” Hoseok interrupted, sticking up for his friend. 

“It’s not,” your boyfriend insisted. 

“Aw, Namjoon, I’m sorry,” you apologised, feeling guilty now. How could you make it up to him? “When all this is over you can come over and fuck someone in our bedroom.” 

“What,” Seokjin protested. You ignored him. 

“Who though?” Namjoon asked, sounding sad. 

“You’ll meet someone new soon enough.” Lina reassured him. “You’re any girls dream guy.”  

He perked up at that. “You think so?”

“Legit, man,” Jimin joined in. 

“Wait,” Sandeul interrupted, seemingly realising something. “Is the costume roleplay exclusive to Halloween?” 

… Of course the conversation was back on you and Jin…

“Why?” You asked. 

“Because Namjoon had a fancy dress party for his birthday last year…” 

Seokjin shrugged. “Any celebration.” 

Sanduel instantly looked disgusted. “So you guys fucked as The Incredibles couple?” 

You and Seokjin didn’t reply, but your faces said it all. 

Namjoon groaned loudly. “I want to scoop my brain out.” Then he thought of something. “Was it in my bedroom?” 

“Noooo!” 

“Yes.” 

You both replied at the same time and you pushed Seokjin. Now he was just purposely teasing his friend. 

“Who’s lying?” Namjoon demanded, but Sanduel was too busy going through it, distracting you all. 

“The Incredibles is my favourite childhood movie, man, now I feel gross. I can’t watch it ever again because I’ll imagine you two trying to superhero fuck.” 

Your friends were way too dramatic. It wasn’t even a big deal, they were making it out to be way kinkier than it was, and Seokjin wasn’t helping matters. You were literally just having normal sex dressed up. That’s all. 

“This game has taught me I’m best friends with a bunch of vanilla ice creams,” Seokjin tutted. “It’s called having fun. Something you guys can’t seem to do.” 

“You all suck!” You agreed. 

Hm, maybe you were just as guilty as your boyfriend… It was just too damn amusing goading your friends… 

[herohotline]

Can I please have a Shigaraki who's dating a male s/o that's part of the LoV but has to break it off because of All For One disapproving (either bc he's homophobic or thinks the s/o is too moral or doesn't want Shigaraki to be distracted from his goal)? Maybe with the s/o trying to leave bc they don't want to get Tomura in any trouble while Shigaraki insists that he should stay??? Sorry if it's too specific

A/N: yes yes yes! I hope that I wrote this well- I’m not sure how I feel abt it just yet, so I suppose the notes will tell me if it’s good or not! Might rewrite and try again if it doesn’t hit. It’s not exactly what you requested, i’ll admit, but it has some elements??? So if I have to rewrite it one day then that’s okay jfdhgjg

— — — 

What made you fall in love with a man like Shigaraki? On the outside, he was villainous, cold, immature, and harsh. A man like Shigaraki fights very hard to be in control and not let anyone come close to him- but things have a tendency to happen naturally over working with each other over a long period of time.

Though he doesn’t show it often, he cares for the entire League. It might be minimal, and his way of caring for others might be a little twisted and considered abnormal, but Shigaraki has his own way of doing a lot of things. And even if it wasn’t the way that people normally loved friends and family- at least he still cared for the League at all.

And he cared for you, too.

It was hard to tell at first, especially since your relationship started out rocky. You weren’t the most evil type- you had fallen into the villain category over reasons of ‘justice’ rather than ‘revenge’ or even just a thirst for blood. You didn’t like the feeling or thought of hurting innocent people- and that’s why you didn’t attack the innocent.

You helped the League when you felt it was right to do so. You wanted justice- you wanted society to change and be a more fair, even world for everyone to live in. And if this was the way to do it… then this is the way you would do it. But only when your heart found it just to do so.

Shigaraki was disgusted by you at the start. The fact that you sounded like a typical, roundabout hero from around the block made him despise you. But his feelings about you were trivial since All for One thought you were essential to their cause because of your tactical thinking and useful quirk. Shigaraki’s feelings about you were negatively intense, but nothing that would make you run away.

Though he hated you, you never hated Shigaraki. You could tell right after meeting the League leader that this man- this boy- was wildly manipulated and truly naive. He was being used. You knew you couldn’t change this- you couldn’t help him, not with the way things are right now. But the least you could do was treat him fairly even when he spit in your direction.

Eventually, he asked with an angry tone why you didn’t lash out on him. Why were you always so calm? Why won’t you at least fight back?

You told him that you weren’t here to make more enemies than you needed to. You said that you didn’t want to be enemies with him, but allies.

He rolled his eyes at your answer, saying that you were already allies, whether he liked it or not. But you noticed how he changed his tune around you after that. The two of you became closer from everything you experienced in the League- all the missions, all the close calls, all the trials and tribulations.

It was a rush of pure adrenaline after a successful raid against heroes that made you kiss Shigaraki for the first time- and you were lucky this even worked, considering his face was usually covered by dead hands. He was, of course, caught off guard and somehow offended that you would do such a thing. The kiss only lasted a second before he jumped away from you and cursed at you for being disgusting and disrespectful to your leader.

Such a harsh rejection would have discouraged you if you didn’t already know how Shigaraki worked. You knew, that once he had time to let what you did sink in, he’d either reject you normally or hopefully come and accept your advances.

Which- he sort of did. Quietly at night, he sneaked into your room, and basically told you he had no idea what your intentions were- what his intentions were. He didn’t know a thing about romance, especially anything about romance with another man, and he doesn’t like not knowing things.

(This was a summary of what he said to you- the actual version of it had a lot more petty insults, sarcastic comments, and harsh words mixed in)

That same night, in order to help him understand, you told him your feelings for him and how to kiss someone. You taught him everything you could about what love and affection feels like- what it looks like. And over the course of that night, the two of you secretly grew closer.

It took a few months until Shigaraki eventually stopped caring about the anxiety of being with another person. After kissing you, loving you, and feeling at least somewhat confident in your relationship, it wasn’t really a secret from the League anymore.

The League reacted in an expected way. No one cared that the two of you were men- some of them had already figured out you were together, and others just didn’t care (also known as Dabi). After that, it was a common sight to see the two of you kissing, your hand wrapped around Shigaraki, or having him sit on your lap. Shigaraki really could care less about being worried over PDA- he was too touch starved to care, really. Not like you minded at all- you were just happy to be with him and provide your leader and lover with comfort and a stable person to rely on.

Throughout your relationship, it wasn’t uncommon for you to try and pry things from him if he was willing. It took a lot of coaxing, a lot of convincing, but eventually, he began to open up. And you loved him even more for it.

One evening after you had slept together, you got into the topic of his hands that he wore. “Why do you wear them?” You asked. It was a simple enough question.

“Because I have to,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Because… Because I have to,” he said again, as if confused that wasn’t a good enough answer. As you often did, you tried to elaborate for him to get him to understand what you meant.

“Well… how do they make you feel, when you wear them? What do they do?”

Surprisingly, Shigaraki actually thinks about his answer as he taps his fingers on your naked chest. “…They keep my mind dark. Focused. They remind me of what I’ve done, and what I need to do. They ground me… to the past.”

You hum at his answer, one of your hands moving to stroke and play with his strands of light colored hair. “…And how do you feel without them?”

“Like I can breathe,” he says much quicker this time. “Like I can see what’s right in front of me. Without the hands… I don’t feel as heavy.”

“And isn’t that better?” You ask him, quietly in his ear as you look into his eyes. “Isn’t this better?”

After that night, he begins to wear the hands around his face, throat, and arms less and less. He begins to think clearly like he couldn’t before- it’s almost as if the longer he lives without them, the more he becomes a different kind of person. Granted, he’s more anxious than before, but he’s also more empathetic, considerate, and puts more time and thought into his plans with the League instead of acting hasty and impatient.

And this development doesn’t go unnoticed by All for One.

All For One… Technically, you were hired by him, and technically, you were a villain. But you never liked that man. He seemed to so easily manipulate those around him, including Shigaraki, and it was clear that he was evil to his very core.

He did not fight heroes and cause chaos for anything other than the sake of doing it. He didn’t do it for a sense of justice, personal gain, revenge…

All for One loved to create chaos and he loved to be in the eye of the storm, plain and simple.

And the fact that you were ruining his plans, ruining his problem child who was doing all the dirty work for him- the fact that you were corrupting his broken mind with morals and a sense of ease- well, All for One didn’t like that at all.

All for One, though, wasn’t one for simply showing up at the bar you hid out in, giving out orders. He worked a bit more slyly than that, of course. So, instead, he had a private conference over his little television and intercom with Shigaraki when no one else was around.

When you weren’t around.

“How are things going? I’ve noticed you haven’t made any moves against the heroes recently…” His voice is smooth and even, his broken face shadowed and hidden by the darkness in the room. “Is there anything else you need?” He offers.

Shigaraki stares at the screen in front of him clearly. He isn’t wearing the hands of past regrets like usual- and it gives him an uneasy feeling not to wear them in front of his master. “No, things are running smoothly, for once. We’re just trying to figure out the best way to-“

“We?” All for One interrupts. “Have you started feeling more comfortable with your teammates now? You used to be so stubborn about them…” He chuckles, a dry and halfhearted chuckle that makes Shigaraki inhale shakily.

“They’ve been doing their job,” he says. “It’s better now that we’re all working together. I didn’t like it, but I’ve realized I can’t accomplish our goal all by myself. I need to work harder than that.”

All for One nods. “And how did you come to realize this?”

“Does it matter?” Shigaraki deflects, and his eyes fall away from the screen.

“Will you not answer my question?”

“…My teammates helped me realize this, master. I’m sorry.” The young man frowns as he sees from the minimal light on All for One’s side that his lips break into a grin.

“…___. That is who you mean.” He says knowingly. Shigaraki quickly opens his mouth but his master holds up his hand, making him silent. “I have seen what he’s been doing to you. I think it’s time we had a discussion about our dear ___.”

A cold feeling crawls up Shigaraki’s back, and suddenly he wishes he had his hands- they would cover his face, hide the fact that he’s almost scared right now. But why should he be scared? There’s no reason. How irrational. “What is there to discuss? He’s a good member.”

“Surely, you think so. But he has been corrupting you, young boy. I think it’s time we considered… letting go of him.”

Killing him.

There’s a sense of panic filling Shigaraki as he realizes this, but he can’t show it to All for One. He knows that wouldn’t be wise- he can’t speak too quickly, he can’t act too emotionally. As evenly as he can, he tries to object. “I can’t be so easily corrupted, master. We still need his powers, we can’t-“

“No, I think you can, Tomura.” All for One’s voice raises for the first time during the entire call. It’s minuscule, but Shigaraki hears it. “He has been corrupting you with his mind and his body. He’s been using you, and I cannot allow such things to happen to you. You are too important, Tomura- so you must dispose of him.” The man sighs deeply at Shigaraki’s silence, slowly continuing with a deeper tone. “I am worried for you, Tomura. I only want what is best for you.”

…Does he?

Shigaraki frowns. “Yes, master. I know- I just need to think it over.” He bows slightly at the screen. “I’ll talk to you again soon.”

For the first time, Shigaraki ends the call first, and that action alone has him feel a sense of empowerment.

If you really were changing him, Shigaraki has a feeling that it’s probably for the better. Besides… This is his organization. All for One said as much- he can do as he pleases.

And that means you’re not going anywhere . Not while he can do something about it.

——

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Tomura,” You look up at Shigaraki as you lie on your bed. There’s a comic book in your hands as you hold it over your head, your hair messy and knotted from lying on the pillows. Shigaraki observes you silently from your doorway until he walks toward you, toeing off his sneakers before he falls onto your bed and next to you.

You laugh as he tosses and turns until he’s got his head on your chest, looking up at the comic you’re holding. His hands are carefully placed around you in fists, as they usually are when he wants to cuddle with you. “What’s up, Tomura?” You nuzzle your cheek against his shaggy hair and flip a page in your comic.

Shigaraki realizes that he likes it when you say his first name. He was hesitant and felt odd letting you know it at first, and letting you even say it was another hurdle in itself. But after talking with All for One- he likes how you say his name much more than how his master does.

“…Nothing.” He says. “…Where’d you get this?”

“The comic? Twice snatched it for me when him and Toga were raiding for supplies nearby. It was sweet of him to think of me, but I think you’ll like it too.” You look down at him as much as you can, but the position is a little awkward and you can only barely meet his eyes. “Want me to start from the beginning?”

“No,” Shigaraki says and looks back up at the pages. It’s around the middle of the story, not much is left. “Looks like it’s getting interesting.”

You hum and flip another page. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty good where it is right now.”

His arms wrap around you a little tighter as he hums. He agrees with you silently, making his decision without you even knowing what he was deciding as you flip another page.

Things are good right now. Why change that?

[sergeantsporks]

Swapped

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Changeling OC/Zoe (But it’s functionally Zouxie)

Ch 1/5

Tag warning for blood

"I didn’t ask for any of this! But when the Pale Lady says she’s picked you, and you’re living in the darklands where everything is a living nightmare and Gunmar has control over everything you don’t exactly get to say ‘no thank you! I’d rather not be a changeling if it’s all the same to you!’"

Changeling Douxie AU

Ao3

Or read under the cut

He’d been chosen.

A mission from the pale lady herself.

It was an honor.

It didn’t feel like an honor. It felt like being singled out, and not in a “oh, you did a good job” kind of way, but more like “a troll born in the darklands? You’ll die in a month” sort of way.

And when they’d told his parents, they’d smiled, and said “wonderful.” They’d said “oh, yes, what an honor.” They’d said that they were “so proud” of “their little son.”

Right. Proud. Honor. Chosen. All of it was pretty words, little lies to cover up a hard truth; that being a changeling wasn’t an honor. That it meant he couldn’t ever be completely part of any world, and that he, Dalmar, would be rejected by both sides. Changelings were called “impure” for a reason.

His parents had said goodbye to Dalmar.

And then he wasn’t Dalmar anymore.

He was Hisirdoux Casperan. “Douxie” for short. He was taken by Dictatious, kept in some part of the darklands he’d never been allowed before (because he wasn’t important, they didn’t care about him, they never WOULD have cared about him if they hadn’t gotten some message from some dead sorceress, he knew that, he knew all of the special treatment now was an ACT and they didn’t care if he lived or died), having his head crammed with random facts about some wizard kid that he didn’t know and didn’t WANT to know, some kid he’d never met with a cushy little life up on the surface world that now he had to pretend to be—no, not pretend, pretending wouldn’t be good enough, he had to be this kid, no pressure or anything. No one called him Dalmar anymore. They kept calling him “Douxie” until he’d gotten used to it—until it became his name.

It would be hard, they told him. Harder than any other changeling’s job, because before, changelings had replaced babies. They didn’t have to impersonate someone with memories, and a personality. They could be themselves, just turn into a blank-slate-baby. But Dalmar—no, Douxie, he was Douxie now—had to be someone he wasn’t.

And that was why he was on the surface now, lurking in the shadows and watching the real Hisirdoux Casperan. Noting how he interacted with others, especially with the wizard girl he’d recently taken up with and, of course, his familiar. Familiar. Da—Douxie held back a laugh. Little did Hisirdoux Casperan know, he was a familiar to TWO creatures.

Well. Not yet. Douxie wasn’t a changeling yet. But he would be. Whenever the elusive and vague “process” was complete.

So he watched Hisirdoux Casperan. Studied him. Learned everything about his behaviors, everything that made him Hisirdoux Casperan, apprentice to Merlin, one of the last remnants of a time long gone.

God, was this guy an idiot.

He bumbled around, making mistakes that didn’t lead to deadly consequences. He stumbled over his spells, doing things quickly and then yelping for his familiar when things went wrong and brooms went flying into his face.

Dalm—Douxie silently seethed. He’d been born in the darklands, with no recollection of the world that Gunmar was so eager to conquer. But now that he was here, here in air that didn’t seem to suffocate you when you breathed, here in a place awash with life instead of decay, a place of glittering lights and exciting noises and smells… he could see why the Gum-Gums were ready to break free of the darklands.

And Hisirdoux Casperan had been BORN here.

He didn’t know how lucky he was.

He took all of this for granted. All of the humans did. They didn’t know what it was like to live in a dying land, where if you weren’t SO careful, you could get eaten, and only the strongest survived.

He’d seen enough. It was time to get this show on the road.

He’d shrunk himself to fit through the fetch, a difficult spell, one that the real Hisirdoux Casperan could probably only dream of. He shrank himself again with a small, satisfied smile. That was something, at least, he held over Hisirdoux Casperan. He’d had no formal training from a great master wizard. But the harshness of magic in the darklands had been a better teacher than some crusty old relic could have ever been.

Dictatious was waiting for him. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Douxie agreed, “But—Dictatious. You said this mission was important?”

“Deadly so.”

Douxie crossed his arms. “Then I’m not doing it for free. I want a promise. I want you to make sure my parents are taken care of down here.”

“You don’t have parents. They died in a tragic fire where you met your familiar, Archie, leaving you orphaned.”

Douxie bit down a sour reply. “Dictatious. Promise me they’ll be alright.”

The troll rolled all of his eyes. “Very well. We shall look after your parents, as long as you forget they were ever your parents.”

“Deal.” Douxie let out a deep breath. “So. The, uh… process?”

Dictatious gave him a grin that looked just a bit too gleeful. “Hold on to your horns. This is going to hurt.”

Xxx

Hurt was an understatement.

Being ripped to shreds was probably closer to the truth.

Magic, but not his magic, pulsed through him, shattering his skin, splintering his horns, crushing his bones and it hurt like nothing he’d ever felt. No falling off of a ledge or getting hit by a Gum-Gum’s blade could compare to this. Everything squeezed, and pushed and pulled and tore, and it was like every part of him was being ripped up and stuck back together, but all wrong, and it hurt!

Dalmar screamed for his parents, but of course they wouldn’t come, and a cool voice reminded him that he didn’t have any parents.

Everything burned and froze and broke and mended and GOD, what was that oozing out, red and sticky and then it was gone, and he was crumbling into pieces, torn apart by wind and swirling back together into something new, then breaking again, and tearing like a hundred blades doused in poison.

An unearthly, echoing howling was everywhere, and it was him, but not him, and he didn’t even have ears to hear it, but he felt it in his bones, his bones that were being crushed to pulp and remolding and breaking and remolding and breaking and—

Something was oozing out of him again, but it wasn’t red. It was clear and salty. Douxie was on his hands and knees and it was over, thank the pale lady, it was over, and ugly, heaving sobs were tearing out of his new, human chest, and salty water was dripping from his eyes.

“The binding was a success,” Dictatious crowed triumphantly, “Congratulations, Douxie, you are officially a changeling.”

It was horrible. There was so much texture. Everything was so sensitive. The stone beneath his hands was rough and unyielding. The fabric of clothing rubbed against his new (light pink instead of blue—strange) skin, and Douxie winced at the sensation. Ow.

He staggered up to his feet, stumbling around on weird, straight legs, and long feet instead of delicate hooves. Douxie wobbled as he walked, nearly falling over. Dictatious just watched.

“Do you think you’re up to this?”

“I’ve got it,” Douxie snapped, rolling his weird new ankle joints experimentally and kicking his feet. Right. He could do this. He teetered a few more steps. “I’ve got it,” he repeated, walking across the room, “I can do it.”

“Congratulations,” Dictatious said dryly, “Now, there’s only one step—pardon the pun—left.”

Douxie turned towards the fetch, preparing the spell that would shrink him enough to get through. “Kidnap my familiar.”

Xxx

Douxie watched his familiar, waiting for him to be alone long enough to make his move. But Hisirdoux Casperan was rarely alone. He was always with Archie, or that new wizard girl. Was that going to be Douxie’s life, now? Never alone, not for a second?

And then, finally, the moment he was waiting for. Hisirdoux wandered off to go to the bathroom, and Douxie pounced, hitting him with a sleep spell before he knew the changeling was there. He couldn’t do the shrinking spell on anyone but himself—as a few disastrous attempts to shrink a Gum-Gum small enough to get through the fetch had proved. So he was just going to have to entrust his familiar to the Janus order, who claimed that they could yes definitely get the wizard through the fetch.

And sure enough, there were a few changelings and a pack of goblins waiting for him. Hisirdoux Casperan started to wake up as Douxie handed him off to the Order, and he blinked blearily at Douxie.

“Wha…?” Realization seemed to dawn in his eyes, and terror sparked. “No!” he shouted, just as the Order dragged him away.

Douxie shrugged off any uncertainty, turning to get back to Hisirdoux’s friends before they realized anything was off.

Sorry, Hisirdoux Casperan.

But this is my life now.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Laughing and Knitting - Jim Kirk (AOS) x Plussize!Reader

Summary: You have the biggest crush on Jim but he doesn’t seem to feel the same. After years of having no contact, you see him again.

Request by: @morganofthecoves1 “Hello! Would it be possible for you to do a Kirk (aos) X plus size reader??? If so could you do like a super fluffy image/one shot where Jim and the reader went to the academy together and sat next to each other in one of their classes. They became fast friends, Jim acting like a dork around the reader, always hugging her and telling jokes to make her laugh. Maybe they don't see each other for a long time and then the reader starts to work on the Enterprise. Anything really. Thanks” --> I hope you like it! Enjoy <3

A/N: I forgot how much I love writing Star Trek imagines! This was so much fun!

Words: 2853 Pairing: Jim Kirk (AOS) x plussize!Reader Warnings: fluff fluff fluff and some insecurities

„James Tiberius Kirk, late as always.”

You looked up from your notes when the seminar got so suddenly interrupted. Your professor leaned against his table, arms crossed, a disappointed – yet not surprised – look in his eyes as he stared at Kirk who had just tried to sneak into the room.

Your classmates gave each other amused looks, some chuckled. This happened at least twice a week.

The blonde cadet let go of the door handle and slipped into the room. “Would you believe me if I told you –“

“No,” the professor interrupted him. “No, I would not. Now sit down. There are some people left in this class who take their education seriously. Even though you are sadly not one of them.”

“I’m very serious about my education, Professor,” Kirk replied with his usual smile on his lips and walked towards one of his friends who was sitting in the first row and looked just as disappointed at him than the professor did. Was it Coy? McCoy? You were sure that you had spoken to the man before but couldn’t quite remember his name. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have skipped my morning shower and my breakfast to get to your class, right?”

Some people laughed, you rolled your eyes. It was almost a miracle that Kirk was still allowed to attend Starfleet Academy.

“In that case you can stay right there,” the professor simply replied. “No shower equals no place in the first row,”

Right there meant your row, you realized when Jim turned towards you – and even worse, it meant next to you. Oh god.

James or how his friends called him, Jim, Kirk started attending Starfleet Academy the same year you did. You had noticed him already on the first evening when he boasted to everyone who would listen that he would be Captain of a Starship in only three years. Granted, this happened after five beers in a student bar in downtown San Francisco. Nevertheless, the arrogance of this guy made you hate him. There were other people, people like you, who had studied hard to get into this program and someone like him just showed up and got accepted? It made you furious. 

Those feelings didn’t last very long however. In fact, the anger turned into a full-size crush pretty soon. After a few weeks you got to see his other side – his funny, charming, always-a-smile-on-his-lips side. He still annoyed the shit out of you, don’t be mistaken, yet you couldn’t help but laugh when he cracked another one of his jokes in class.

Kirk was fully aware of his effect on women. At least, it always seemed that way. So his reputation was quickly established. He flirted shamelessly, changing his girlfriends faster than his underwear. It was one reason why you never acted on your feelings and preferred to watch him from afar, being content with your daydreams staying daydreams. The other reason was your fear of rejection. Kirk would never go for a woman like you. Not because of your looks – your rolls and curves weren’t making you less attractive. Quite the opposite actually, you knew how to flaunt them. Feeling comfortable in your body was something you had worked hard for and one man’s opinion wasn’t going to destroy that. No, the women he dated or even just hooked up with were … fierce. They were exciting and knew what they wanted. You couldn’t keep up with that and were convinced that men like Jim Kirk didn’t notice you. You simply flew under their radar.

“May I sit here?”

You flinched and nearly dropped your pen at the sound of his voice. “Yeah, sure.”

Kirk didn’t move. After two seconds passed you looked up at him, a confused look on your face. He furrowed his brows when you didn’t react and the confusion grew. Then he finally bent down, grabbing your jacket that was still on the chair next to you and handed it to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Your face grew hot and you quickly tucked the jacked away in your backpack.

“Don’t worry,” he sounded friendly and you were sure he was smiling again. However, you were still embarrassed and kept your gaze focused on the presentation the professor presented to the class. “I’m Jim,” he continued.

“I know,” you mumbled and instantly regretted it. Why was your brain not able to come up with proper responses?!

Jim chuckled. “Of course you do. My name just got announced to everyone.”

Sure, that was the reason.

You cleared your throat and finally turned your head. Leaning against the back of the chair, legs spread out, he seemed more than comfortable. He looked directly at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. “I’m Y/N,” you finally introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Jim held out his hand with a big grin.

You let out a nervous breath of air, concealing it with a soft chuckle, before you shook it. “Nice to meet you, Jim.”

 ***

 Two days later …

It was raining like someone was emptying buckets outside. You sprinted the whole way from your dorm to your classroom and practically fell into your chair, completely out of breath and soaking wet.

“Rough morning?”

To your surprise, Jim was already sitting next to you. You looked at your watch. Were you late? No. “You’re early,” you stated.

He shrugged. “I’m always one for surprises.”

“Did you miss your shower again?” You asked when you got out of your jacket. 

“What?”

“No shower equals no place in the first row,” you quoted your professors and used the sleeve of your pullover to wipe away the raindrops from your face.

“Oh!” Jim exclaimed and laughed. “No, no. I just like the view I have from here.” He winked at you.

You blushed and quickly bent down to rummage through your backpack so he wouldn’t notice it. The last time he sat next to you, the two of you hardly spoke. You were too nervous and didn’t know what to say. He occasionally commented on the lecture and caused you to laugh at the most impossible times but nothing more happened. You thought that was it. Your one chance to talk to him, to act on your crush and you were too shy to do so.

Apparently that was not it.

“Your scarf is great.”

“What?” You looked up at him, thinking you misheard.

Jim pointed at your neck. “Your scarf. Did you make it?”

“Oh,” you felt your cheeks growing hot again not sure if he was joking or not. You had knitted the scarf last year when you visited your parents home and were quite proud of it. “Yes, actually. I sometimes … make things.” You made things? Damn, your ability to articulate yourself was on point today. 

“It looks great, seriously.”

“Thanks,” you smiled softly. 

Then the door opened and your professor strutted in, a cup of coffee in his hands. “Good morning everyone!”

 ***

 Two weeks later …

“What’s that?” Jim asked when he sat down, curiously eyeing the package on his table.

You shrugged, playing dumb. “Who knows. Open it and see for yourself.”

You barely finished your sentence when he ripped it open. “No way!” He exclaimed so loudly that two students in front of you flinched. “That’s so cool!”

You smiled widely as you watched him pull out the scarf. It looked similar to yours, except for the darker color.

“You made that?” He asked you and put it on immediately.

You nodded, feeling flattered.

“Thank you!” It sounded so sincere and he looked so happy, you were taken a little aback by it. All of a sudden, he leaned in and pulled you into a tight hug. “No one ever made anything for me.”

 ***

 From this point on, the friendship between the two of you developed quickly. Soon you sat together in almost every class. You met up for lunch and study sessions. He crashed on the floor in your dorm more than once when was locked out of his room again and even had dinner with your parents when they came to visit you once.

Of course, nothing more happened. As you had suspected – men like Jim Kirk didn’t go for women like you. He never made a move, never gave you any clue that he was interested in you. So you didn’t say anything either. You stayed quiet, enjoying his company and his stories that never failed to make you laugh. The feelings didn’t go away, no. If anything, they grew stronger with every day you saw him and he pulled you into a tight hug. Jim was extremely touchy – hugs, grabbing your arms, touching your hair, it was all a normal part of being his friend. You didn’t mind though. Quite the contrary.

Your friends declared you crazy after a few months. “How do you put up with this?” or “Do you enjoy suffering?” or “Doesn’t it make you feel miserable?” were common questions. You didn’t have answers to any of them. Being around Jim never made you feel miserable. Of course, you sometimes wished you were brave enough to ask him out, to make a move. You dreamed about him realizing that you were more than just a friend to him and confessing his love to you.

It never happened though and you respected it. So you kept quiet and enjoyed the friendship between the two of you. If this was all he could offer you then you gladly took it.

 ***

 Three years later …

It was your first day on the Enterprise. You walked into your room, tired, exhausted, happier than ever. You still couldn’t believe it. When you received the call and they told you that you’ve been accepted, you were convinced it was a prank call. It wasn’t. Starfleet wanted you to transfer to the Enterprise, the most prestigious ship in the entire fleet. It was by far your proudest moment in your career.

After you changed out of your uniform and into something more comfortable, you fell onto your bed, sinking into the soft pillows. As you let the day pass by in your mind once more, you smiled. The crew had been great, welcoming you with open arms. You already loved your job and were excited to officially start the next day.

Would he you see him tomorrow? The thought crossed your mind all of a sudden and you opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling. You knew he was the Captain of the ship. Everyone knew. After all, he was the first one to become Captain in only three years. Oh, how loudly you had laughed when you heard about it in the news. No one believed him on his first day and he did it anyways.

However, Jim and you had fallen out of contact shortly after that faithful day when the Romulans attacked Vulcan. He got promoted quickly afterwards and his life turned into this adventure you didn’t seem to have a place in it. It hurt. Even now, you flinched when you thought about it.

You sat up when you suddenly heard two short knocks on the door. “Come in,” you called out and got up from the bed.

When the door opened, your heart skipped a beat.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” There he was. Captain James T. Kirk in the flesh, wearing his golden Starfleet uniform, his hands crossed behind his back, his signature smirk on his lips.

“Jim!” You exclaimed before remembering who he was and quickly clearing your throat. “I mean … Captain.” He looked like the Jim Kirk you knew but at the same time he didn’t. Something about him had changed. He seemed more sure of himself, his composure, the way he spoke – he had matured. It was an almost scary sight.

Jim rolled his eyes. “Please, I’m still Jim to you.” Stepping towards you he continued: “I knew, I recognized that name when Spock told me about our new crew members. It’s so good to see you again, Y/N!” He opened his arms but then paused for a moment. “May I hug you?”

You stared at him. “Yes, yes, of course, Jim!” You finally replied and walked towards him.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed in his familiar scent and closed your eyes. It had been so long. Too long. “I missed you,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“Same here,” he whispered.

You laughed. “Yeah, right.”

Jim pulled back at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?” He asked, his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “You’ve been so busy I don’t think you had time to miss me that much. At least it seemed that way since you never called or anything.”

He lowered his gaze, a painful look on his face. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” his apology sounded sincere. It wasn’t good enough for you though. “I really am. I meant to call but …”

“Then why didn’t you?”, you interrupted Jim, trying not to sound too heartbroken about it which seemed almost impossible. “I tried to reach you but you never replied.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Honestly I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get some space.”

Ouch. That hurt even more. Space? Why did he need space? Had your friendship been more one-sided than you realized? “Space?” You asked. “What do you mean?”

Finally, he looked at you. He raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe what you just said. “Oh, come on, Y/N. As if you don’t know what I mean.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?!” You shook your head, growing more and more annoyed by the second.

Jim scoffed before blurting out: “I had the biggest possible crush on you from the day I sat down next to you in class!”

The words felt like a punch in the gut. They left you breathless and your brain wasn’t able to understand the true meaning behind them for a few seconds. “What?! You … what?” You stammered.

“Yeah! I was so in love with you!”, Jim repeated himself and grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “As if you didn’t notice. Leonard – Dr. McCoy – he still makes fun of my behavior back then. I was hopelessly in love with you.” He let out a short laugh when he thought back.

No words came from your mouth. You were speechless. Confused you looked back and forth between his face and your hand that was resting in his.

Jim watched you. And then – it dawned on him. “Wait, you really didn’t know?”

You just stared at him.

“Oh.” Something happened that you never thought possible: Jim Kirk blushed. “Well, this is embarrassing.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked softly. All of this felt like a dream. Working on the Enterprise, Jim Kirk confessing his feelings for after so many years – you expected to wake up any second now.

Jim shrugged. “You didn’t seem interested. And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“What?”

A big grin suddenly appeared on your face and before you knew it, you started laughing. “Oh, Jim,” you managed to get out, grabbing your waist while giggling like a schoolgirl. “We’re both such idiots.”

Jim looked at you confusedly. Had you lost your mind completely now? Then he started to realize. Oh no. “Wait…”

You raised an eyebrow, still grinning like an idiot.

“Please, don’t tell me you felt the same,” Jim groaned.

You nodded and the both of you started laughing again.

“Unbelievable…”, Jim exclaimed after a few seconds. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

It was your turn to shrug this time. “I don’t know. Same reason, I guess. I thought you weren’t interested and didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

Jim let out a long sigh. “I don’t believe it. How did we miss that?!”

“I have no idea,” you mumbled. “We wasted so much time.”

For a while no one said a word. It was just you and him, standing in the middle of your room, holding hands, looking at each other. It seemed too good to be true and you never wanted this moment to end.

“Do you still feel the same?” Jim finally asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Do you?”

He didn’t reply, instead his gaze wandered down to your lips. “May I …?”

“Yes,” you whispered, a shudder running down your spine. “You may.”

Jim Kirk leaned forwards, gently cupping your cheek with his hand, as his lips locked with yours – and in that moment, everything you ever wanted became true. The kiss was soft and slow, loving and longing. You never wanted it to end.

When it did end, you sighed.

Jim smiled at you. “I still have the scarf, you know.”

You chuckled. “Oh, really? Well, I can make you a new one now. I’m much better at knitting now.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to keep it. You made it for me.”

***

My Star Trek Masterlist

My Tag List: @imoutofmyvulcanmind​ , @whatif-animagineblog​ , @groovyenby​ , @dancingwith-thesunflowers​ , @zizzlekwum​ , @spacewitchqueen​

Message me if you want to be added to my tag list! <3

[multishipperlove]

Grumpy prompts: #5 for Empire Sibs

Sorry that took a while, but thank you for the prompt! 💜

“Listen, I enjoy this hug and all, but can you stop?”

Quiet but firm, the words immediately made Beau pull back again, the joy from the just-won fight quickly evaporating as she saw Caleb's sour expression. But before she could really reply anything, either to apologise or ask what was wrong, she was nearly swept off her feet by a very enthusiastic blue tiefling and carried right back into the midst of the group.

Beau couldn't help it, Jester's radiance was infectious, and by the time the cleric had healed the small wound over her left eye (was it really possible for fingers to be this soft? so warm and caring?!), she had almost forgotten about Caleb's rejection again. The general chaos that followed any altercation didn't help, and she barely noticed that their wizard friend kept almost exclusively to himself, far into the evening.

Maybe it was because his behaviour wasn't actually noticeable. Looking back, Beau figured someone should have payed attention sooner with the way their group had grown in the last few months, but Caleb being quiet wasn't anything newsworthy. If anything, they chalked it up to him maybe falling back into old habits.

So no, it wasn't until the evening that she tried to talk to him again, once she'd realised that they had somehow ended up as the only ones still awake and ghosting around the Xhorhouse, and Caleb still seemed weirdly... quiet. Usually if they both bumped into each other in the kitchen late at night he would at least mumble a greeting, even if he had his nose buried in a book or was busy trying to feed Frumpkin treats that the fey being didn't want in the first place. This time though, as she stepped into the shared cooking space and saw Caleb hunched over at the table, he didn't say anything. And finally, she remembered his reaction after the fight again. Granted, words weren't always her strong suit, but it seemed obvious to Beau someone needed to talk to him, and everyone else was asleep.

Grabbing a bowl of leftovers from dinner and rummaging around the cupboards until she found another one with the berries he liked so much (which were technically for breakfast, but surely Cad would understand that this was an emergency) she plopped down across from him at the table, pushing the food a bit closer to him. “You look like shit.” Caleb frowned, but had the decency to finally acknowledge her as he sat up straight again. “You're one to talk,” he muttered, taking the peace offering though and picking up a handful of the berries. “What do you want?” Beau shrugged, trying to keep the whole conversation as nonchalant as possible. “Dunno, can't I check on my friends?” Before Caleb could answer she waved it off, knowing if she let him he'd just question her friendship first in general. By being rude, at least all he could do was huff and then give a fond shake of his head before she was able to keep talking. “You were acting weird this morning, you know the whole- “ there's another wavey hand gesture from her, “-touch thing.”

“Right,” Caleb muttered, his expression almost, almost, turning amused. “The touch thing.” “Yeah. Come on, Caleb, you know what I'm talking about,” she huffed, not caring anymore about showing at least a little bit of her annoyance. “You haven't blown me off like that in ages. And it's not like there was any fire involved in the fight, so what gives?”

There was silence at first, Caleb just glaring at her for a moment or two before he gave a long suffering sigh. “No, it wasn't fire this time,” he admitted, his voice a little more subdued. Which didn't do anything to make Beau worry less, and when he didn't offer up any more information by himself she resisted the urge to nudge him with her foot until he did. Touch had already freaked him out once, she didn't need a repeat of that today. “Then what was it?” she asked instead, willing to poke and prod a little at least with her words. It took another pause before Caleb answered, but with the way he was ringing for words she waited it out. “I- I'm not sure,” he admitted, finally meeting her eyes as well. There was fear, shining through rather clearly amidst some mixed in doubt. “I honestly don't know what triggered it. I saw that thing go down, and... and suddenly I wasn't there anymore. I was back at the cathedral, I- I was back at the docks where we stole the ball eater, and back on the ship with Avantika's crew, and back in the fight were we lost Caduceus that one time. Everything- it all came crushing down at once.” “And when I hugged you it ripped you out of that, but you were still freaked out?” she asked, though it was more an observation than an actual question. He nodded slowly. “And since I don't know what caused it, I cannot try to avoid it in the next battle, either. Which means I might just have to come to terms with being a liability after every fight now, not only after throwing the occasional fire ball. That's not good, Beauregard.” “Well, no,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “But it doesn't make you a liability either, Caleb. It's always worked before, and I'm honestly more concerned what it means for you than for the rest of us.” “Can't say I'm surprised I'm finally loosing it,” he muttered, turning his gaze to the table again as his expression turned angry. “What if it comes to a point where I don't even make it to the end of a fight? What if something comes for you, or Nott, or anyone in this group and I just stand there because all I can hear is the mocking laughter of the Hand?” “Then we do our best to protect you, like we do with everyone who goes down in the middle of this shit.” To Beau, there wasn't much difference between this and being stunned or petrified in the middle of a fight, and they'd dealt with both. Not ideal, but nothing they couldn't handle either. “But I already told you, that's not what I'm worried about. I think you need to- I don't know, talk to someone about this? There are people who can help with this sort of thing, I think.” “And if that doesn't work, either?” “Then we set you up in your own little cushy wizard tower and you can annoy us from there,” she replied, rolling her eyes at him. “Seriously, Caleb.” He still looked a little doubtful, but finally nodded with another sigh. “I guess it's not the worst idea. But it could take a while until I find something. Or someone.” “Sure, and until then I'm perfectly happy with taking you on a walk after every battle,” she assured him, trying to lighten the mood a little again now that the serious part of the conversation seemed mostly over.  “Maybe I can help you learn to meditate a bit as well, you know, shit like that. Stillness of mind or something. It takes forever to learn but trust me, so worth it.”

The slight exaggeration in tone got a chuckle out of him at least, and she took that as a sign that it was okay to get up again and consider the topic done for now. Dropping both of their empty dishes in the sink she still nudged him on her way up though. “Let's both try and get some sleep, before we're completely useless tomorrow,” she muttered, giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the stairs. Caleb agreed easily enough, and before she could part from him and make her way to her and Jester's room, he did pull her into another hug. This time, neither of them pulled away for a while.

[maybe-your-left]

Cowboy Blues: Its a Date, Or Is It?

Settling into a new routine has always been hard. You were so happy back in North Carolina. Well, happy was kind of a stretch, but you were comfortable. Everything was familiar and felt like home. Even after the falling out with Josh… boy was he someone you didn’t miss. The long nights of tears and screams followed by hours of pain and suffering. You cried tears of relief and unrelenting joy when the judge granted your restraining order. The next day you packed up all that was left of your life and got a new job at a clinic in West Virginia. 

Your alarm clock woke you from your thoughts, sighing before swinging your legs outta bed and making your way to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror was so different nowadays. No longer did you have to hide your face with layers of concealer to hide the shame from others, your (Y/E/C) eyes weren’t obscured by the burst blood vessels from repeated abuse. You could finally have your hair in whatever style you liked, not having to follow Josh’s rules of how a “lady was supposed to look and act”. Quickly washing your face from all the grime on your pillow you pulled your hair back into a messy braid with a bun atop your head. Throwing on some new scrubs, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen counter and rushed out to your car. Earl had gotten it all fixed up in a couple of days and dropped it off so you didn’t have to take the bus to work anymore. It took you all but fifteen minutes to arrive in front of the clinic, the head vet tech was there smiling at you when you walked up. 

“Morning Doctor (Y/L/N)!” 

“Good morning Shelby, you’re here early today. I’m usually the only one who gets in at 7.”

Shelby let out a breath you didn’t know she was holding and opened the door for you. Waltzing in you started flipping on lights to begin opening up. 

“Well, I got a phone call from the emergency pet line while I was getting ready for work so I just let him know to get here at 7 when you showed up” her voice trailed off while she stared out the front windows. You walked over to Shelby and stared out the window to see what she was looking at. Suddenly a car pulled into the parking lot and a man rushed out of the driver’s side. He crossed over the front of the vehicle and picked up something rather large and rushed to the front door. 

“He got here fast didn’t he?” Shelby spoke up. 

Turning towards the back entrance you let Shelby check in the man. You were setting down your bag in your office, getting your supplies ready for whatever emergency he was bringing with him. 

“Sure thing, can you tell me again what happened to him? I need to make sure Dr. (Y/L/N) knows before we take him from you.” Shelby said as calmly as she could. It was clear that the man was panicked, his voice was strained like he had been crying for some time. Walking back into the lobby you stopped dead in your tracks. Before you stood none other than Clyde Logan. Your knight in shining armor, your rescuer from weeks ago.  You cracked a smile, eyes searching his pained expression. He seemed to be at a loss for words, or he didn’t remember who you were. That thought stung since this wasn’t the first time you had thought about him since you departed. You thought about the embarrassing moment where you caught him coming out of the shower. If you were bolder you would’ve ripped that towel right off of him and rode him instead of El Wood. You had spent many nights in bed sweating up a storm thinking about his rough hands massaging and caressing you while whispering in your ear what a pretty cowgirl you were. Imagining how his muscular arms would hold you up against the wall while you chanted his name over and over and over again. You let out an audible whimper when you were shoved back into reality when Shelby spoke up again. 

Like throwing a cold bucket of water over you, you realized he was here for an emergency and the only dog you saw on that property was Leroy. You rushed over to Clyde’s side and peeked under the blanket that was cradling the poor thing. Clyde’s chest rose in shallow breaths as you looked over Leroy. It appeared he was still breathing but like his owner, he was only getting in shallow breaths, his fur was matted and spots of blood were visible through the patches of fur around his neck. 

“H-he got out this mornin’ an I found him fightin’ with a snake… I got it off a him but…” Clyde trailed off and looked at you with tears in his eyes. He choked back what seemed like a sob when you motioned for him to follow you to the back rooms. 

-----

Clyde left the clinic at about 10, the nurses assured him that Leroy was doing okay and that Dr. (Y/N) would make sure to call him when it was time to pick him up. He had spent all morning in the lobby pacing, panicking, dreaming of the worst possible scenario for his lil’ buddy. He had gotten Leroy when he moved out of Jimmy’s place to the family ranch. His sole companion that was with him day and night was now hurt because Clyde hadn’t checked for snakes before lettin’ him out. 

He left his number at the front desk along with the number for Duck Tape in case he didn’t answer at home when they called. He wasn’t sure where he was headed but he mindlessly made it to Mellie’s salon. Maybe a haircut would calm his nerves, after the traumatic moment with Leroy, he also had seen that girl again. He wasn’t sure why he was blessed that day to come upon such a fine young lady but he was thanking his lucky stars every night for the moments they shared. Being a southern gentleman and all he tried to keep his “unsuitable” thoughts outta his mind but there was something about her. 

Walkin’ into the salon Mellie smiled at him and motioned for him to sit in the chair. Draping him in the cloth and brushing his hair Clyde finally started to relax. 

“I didn’t know you were gonna come in today Clyde”

“Wasn’ plannin’ on it Mel,” Clyde said barely above a whisper, “I was in town already and needed a trim.” 

After a long pause, Mellie brought Clyde to the sink to wash his hair. Heatin’ up the water to a warm sudsy temp, using the tea tree shampoo as he likes. 

“Leroy’s at the vet. Got caught by a snake this mornin’.” Clyde finally said, “Got him there until they call n’ say it s’okay to bring him home”. 

Mellie hummed in response, she never pushed Clyde to talk more than he needed to, unlike Jimmy. She was truly just there to listen and support him whenever he needed it. 

Finishing up at the sink he got up and sank back down in front of Mellie’s mirror as she started trimming away. Clyde had finally begun to relax after telling Mellie about Leroy when she piped up. 

“Earl said you had a girl at the house the other day”. 

Clyde's eyes nearly popped outta his head. Earl knew better than to be tellin’ Mellie bout’ girls, Clyde was never one to hold a secret but Mellie always tried to work her “Mellie Magic '', which usually ended in him gettin’ his heartbroken. 

“He said she was quite a looker, want to tell me where you found her? Or should I just keep cutting hair until you talk?” her smirk on her face was evident even if Clyde wasn’t making full eye contact. The scissors she held were dangerously close to his ear, threatening to cut the hair coverin’ em too short. “I don’ know what yer talkin’ bout”. 

“Is that your final answer Clyde?”

Eyes darting between Mellie and her scissors he knew he would have to cave or else he would suffer having a bowl cut for the next few months. “Her car broke down outside the house, I couldn’ jus let her walk off”.

“And what’s her name?”

“(Y/N)”

“That’s a pretty name, never heard of her. Is she new?”

“Not sure, she didn’ say. But she works as a vet where Leroy’s at.”

“Have you made a move on her?”

Clyde pauses before answering, he wasn’t sure he wanted to share with his little sister about how (Y/N) barged in on him naked after a shower. She would get the wrong impression. The last thing Clyde needed was Mellie thinkin’ bout’ him and (Y/N) naked, not that he would mind it.

“Clyde, don’t go all moony-eyed on me, have you asked her out yet?

“O’ course not” Clyde spit out. He couldn’ imagine doin’ that, what if she said no? He wasn’ sure he could take her rejection. 

“Why don’t you ask her to the bar? Get her a couple of drinks so she meets people in town.” 

Clyde swallowed, it did seem like a good idea in theory. Nothin’ could go wrong at his

bar. He would be in control of the situation. Not saying another word Mellie finished his hair cut n’ he left to get the bar ready to open. 

-----

The rest of your morning was uneventful after the Leroy emergency. Taking him from Clyde had been heartbreaking, to say the least. The man looked like he was going to pass out when he told him he couldn’t stay back while you worked on Leroy. Apparently he had been pacing the lobby and wouldn’t sit still for longer than ten minutes. The nurses told you he came up to the counter and asked about Leroy every time he sat back up from his seat. It was cute how much he cared about his dog, not many pet owners stay when they drop off their animals, but Clyde stayed until finally, Shelby convinced him to go stretch his legs. 

At about 3 you checked in on Leroy and he was happy as can be, you could hardly believe he was bitten by a snake near hours ago. He was so glad to see you, he clearly remembered you, unlike his owner. It was time to call Clyde and let him know he could come pick him up. You also got to go home and rest after a long day's work once Leroy was sent on his way. 

Dialing the house number you waited… “This s’ the Logan Ranch leaves a message.” Beep. 

Ugh, you guessed you had to try the second number, whatever Duck Tape was you had heard it many times to know that Clyde was a regular. 

Ring, Ring, Ring… ugh come on pick up. 

“Duck Tape bar, this s’ Clyde.”

Clearing your throat you replied, “Hey Clyde it’s (Y/N) at Community Animal Hospital, I just wanted to let you know Leroy is here and ready to go home.” Smile beaming through the phone you hoped that by saying your first name Clyde would remember you. 

“Thank y’ very much. I’ll be there soon I’m jus’ down the road' ' Clyde blurted out and hung up quickly. 

Sighing you went back and got Leroy ready to be discharged. Letting the nurses and other staff members go home while you waited for Clyde. Sitting behind the front desk you waited with Leroy sitting between your knees while you scratched and pet his head. 

No more than five minutes had passed before Clyde strode through the door. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at him this morning but now here he was in all his glory. A dark-gray button-up smartly tucked into denim wranglers adorned his broad chest. His beard seemed better cleaned up compared to this morning and his hair seemed a little shorter, not that you paid that much attention to his ebony locks. 

“Hi again sunshine”. 

His words melted your bones, the sickly sweet nickname he called you echoed in your ears each time you fell asleep. Shaking yourself out of the trance he put you in you spoke up, “Hey Clyde, I got Leroy right here for you. Let me just walk you through the medicine he will be on for a few days”. You walked your way around the counter and stood to his right. You immediately noticed how much bigger he was up close, your eyes barely reaching to his shoulders. You had to strain your neck to look at his face. And what a face it was, covered in little freckles and moles you resisted the urge to touch them all. His eyes bored holes into your soul, stealing the air out of your lungs. It was like two perfect pools of brown amber were right there for you to dive into. 

“What’ll I be givin’ him now?” Clyde’s voice jerked you from his face back to the paperwork in front of you. 

“Oh yeah, he just will be taking a couple of these” you lifted the green pill bottle towards Clyde “Twice a day for 3 days until the swelling goes down. After that just use sparingly if he starts itching at it. There is also some gel to put on the sores that need to be done every night before he goes to sleep and that won’t stop until they go away”. Clyde nodding in response to your instructions. A smile pulled at his lips when you finished. 

“I can’t thank y’ enough fer helpin’ Leroy. I don’ know how I can repay y’.” 

“Well I’m a doctor, it’s in my job description” you smiled up at him. After what felt like hours he spoke again. 

“Well’m a bartender so why don’ I get you a couple a rounds on the house tonight?” 

You were intrigued, you hadn’t planned on going out but it was a Friday and all you were going to do at home was watch Netflix and possibly touch yourself to the thought of Clyde. Now you had the chance to, maybe, touch him for real. 

“Uh sure, I’d love to come by”. 

“See y’ at 10?” 

“It’s a date” you blurted out without realizing what you said, not wanting to take it back you just gave him a nervous smile. He said nothing as he gathered up Leroy’s supplies and called him out to his car. 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @morby @kirah36

authors note: I am having so much fun writing this you guys have no idea. Also be ready for smut *saddles up* 

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML fic: Love sick

(Based on this idea I had earlier)

Ladybug was enjoying the night air. She was walking on top of the roof that Chat noir said he would meet her.

After the last akuma attack, Chat noir asked to meet her tonight, he claimed he had something important to tell her.

The red clad heroine agreed to meet him, but her expectations were low. Sure the cat has been noticeably more tame with his flirting as of late, but perhaps it was simply to prepare for a grandiose confession.

She really hoped it wasn't another confession. She cared deeply for her partner, but she was in love with another guy, another guy which she has yet to confess to. The teen heroine thought for a moment, maybe she should take a page out of the cats book. He was tenacious, able to confess multiple times despite her polite rejections. Part of her had to admit she was envious of his grit, it is part of why she can't find herself giving up on Adrien, she needs to at least try to confess to him once. If she could manage that...

She paused that thought as she watched a black cat hero jump and land on the roof several feet away.

“Good evening Bugaboo.” Chat noir greeted with a Cheshire grin.

“Evening Alley cat.” Ladybug returned his greeting with her own nickname for him.

“I am glad you accepted my call tonight.” Chat noir spoke as his smile changed.

The red clad heroine noticed the subtle change.

“Is something the matter chatton?” Ladybug inquired, worried about her friend and crime fighting partner.

“Not at all, its just today is the day I have made a crucial decision.” Chat noir stated firmly.

“A decision?”

Chat noir walked up and took her hand.

“I am giving up pursuing you romantically.” Chat noir confessed.

Ladybug’s eyes went wide, she was not expecting that at all.

“What?”

“I have come to terms with the fact that you do not see me in any romantic light. I wanted to hold up hope, but I realize that you are set on whoever this person you are set on is.”

“I see. I thank you for understanding. I am sorry that I wasn't able to return your feelings.”

“There is no need to apologize. We can't help how we feel. Despite my efforts seeming fruitless, it actually helped me realize my deep feelings for another. Someone that I can't help but find myself more and more drawn to.”

“Wow Chatton, I am really happy for you. I am a bit surprised in all honesty, but I am glad that you have found someone. May I get a name?” Ladybug prodded.

The cat chuckled.

“Now now, no names, you might be able to figure out my identity if my confession to her is a success.” The cat teased. “But I will say that she is one incredible woman.”

“Oh? Well if she was able to steal your heart away from me she must be something.” Ladybug joked.

“Well she is certainly more humble.” Chat noir playfully sassed. “Her kindness and helpfulness are on a level beyond anyone I have ever seen. And I must say her looks are able to rival you Bugaboo.”

Ladybug nodded.

“She sounds like the perfect girl for you.” Ladybug encouraged.

“I would like to think so. She is the only girl to confess to the me as chat noir.” Chat noir said with a softness and sincerity that looked like it meant a lot.

Ladybug paused.

“Wait... confessed to you?”

“Yeah, she confessed to me one night after I helped save her home from an akuma attack. It was quite a surprise. I was sad that I had to turn her down, as I was still in pursuit of you, plus I was a superhero, she was a civilian.” Chat noir explained. “But now I am going to confess to her. If she knew I was going to confess tomorrow, she would likely be stunned.

Ladybug realized who the cat was referring to. That silly cat had fallen for her civilian self. He fell in love with her AGAIN!

“Wait! You can't confess to her!” Ladybug exclaimed in panic.

Chat noir looked at her confused.

“Why not? You were all for it?”

“Superheroes can't date civilians! You said it yourself. Think of the danger.” Ladybug responded.

“Of course I know the danger. I am going to confess to her as my civilian self. I would have to be a colossal idiot to confess to her as a superhero. So there is no danger.”

Ladybug wanted to give some kind of excuse, but that would make her appear as a hypocrite, or worse, he might assume she is jealous.

Chat noir sighed.

“I know its hard losing my affections Bugaboo. But you will always be my partner and the first woman I ever fell in love with.” Chat noir assured.

He kissed her hand and smiled.

“I believe now is a good place to end it. Tomorrow, I am off to confess. And if I am lucky, this alley cat’’s heart will be in the hands of a beautiful girl.” Chat noir exclaimed as he dashed off the rooftop and used his staff to make a dramatic exit.

Leaving Ladybug absolutely stunned.

_______________________________________________________________________

“He is going to confess to me Tomorrow Tikki!” Marinette shouted into her pillow, clearly in emotional distress.

“At least you know that he is in love with the real you and not just a mask.” Tikki answered, the red Kwami was awfully cheerful about the whole situation and was doing her best to hide it.

The designer lifted her head up from the pillow.

“That is true... but I am in love with Adrien. I am gonna have to turn down chat noir again. But this time I will see his actual face. Imagine when the time finally comes and we have to reveal ourselves. He is gonna see me as the girl that rejected him when he thought we were two separate people. It would destroy his poor heart.” Marinette pointed out, frowning and feeling worse as she thought about it. “Thinking about it makes me feel sick with guilt... Sick.”

Marinette had a realization.

“I will pretend to be sick. I can't go to school or leave my room if I am sick. So Chat noir won't be able to confess to me. This will buy me sometime to think of something.” Marinette answered.

“Marinette no.” Tikki responded “You can't fake illness to avoid dealing with things.”

“Its only for one day Tikki. It will give me time to process how to go about this. Maybe Chat noir will see it as a sign to wait on his confession.” Marinette defended her idea.

The ladybug Kwami shook her head.

“I do not think this is a good idea.” Tikki answered. “But if its only one day, I suppose there is nothing too bad. Just keep an eye on the news in case there is an akuma attack.”

“Thanks Tikki.”

_______________________________________________________________________

She wasn't in school today.

The blond model felt a burden on his heart when the seat behind him didn't get filled.

Alya had told him that Marinette wasn't feeling well and that she was going to  be out for the rest of the day.

Adrien was bummed out. He was planing this dramatic confession where he pulls her into the library so they could be alone. Then he would reveal his feelings. He assumed his attempt at confessing today was over, until Ms.Bustier asked if anyone wanted to bring Marinette her homework after school.

Alya was prepared to raise her hand, but stopped when Adrien’s hand shot up.

“I will handle it.” Adrien replied to the teacher, a confident smile on his face. Perhaps this was an opportunity in disguise.

_______________________________________________________________________

“So any ideas on what to do about Chat noir?” Tikki asked. Watching as Marinette crumpled up another piece of paper.

“Nothing. I couldn't think of a single thing.” Marinette lowered her head dejectedly. “What am I gonna do?”

She heard her phone buzz. She quickly turned to see it was Alya. It was a text message.

‘Hey girl. I hope you are feeling better. I got some really good or really bad news depending on what type of sick you are. Adrien volunteered to bring your homework to you. So I really hope its a cute case of the sniffles, if not, I recommend letting your mom stop him at the door.’

Marinette felt her face heat up. This is not what she needed at all. Granted it was welcome in most cases, but she was panicking now. Adrien was coming here!

Marinette was trying to calm down.

“On the upside, at least you can say you have a fever.” Tikki joked a bit.

“Not helping Tikki.”

Marinette moved frantically, she did her best to hide most of the pictures of Adrien. Sure he saw them before thanks to that camera crew, but he didn't see the NEW ones. She quickly hid them and heard a knocking on her door.

“Mari dear. You have a friend here dropping off your homework. Are you okay with letting him in?”

“Yes Mama. Just one minute.” Marinette replied. 

She jumped into her bed and covered herself.

After 60 seconds, she heard the approaching steps of another.

The door opens.

“Hey Marinette. How are you feeling?” The voice of a blond angel (According to her) inquires about her well being.

“H-Hey Adrien. better am feeling I. I MEAN! am better feeling I. Felling better! I am feeling better!” Marinette word garbled. She mentally screamed at herself for tripping repeatedly over her words.

“Sounds like you just woke up from a nap. Sorry for interrupting. But I brought you the work you missed, along with notes from class so you won't be lost.” Adrien spoke sweetly

Marinette sat up and saw the teen was putting the notes on her desk. He was also holding a plastic bag.

“I wasn't sure what you were sick with, and Alya didn't really specify, so I went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things. Cough drops, Ibuprophen, and some other things the pharmacist recommended.” Adrien explained. “I also brought you soup, its down stairs with your mom, she said she will heated up for you when you get hungry.”

Marinette’s face turned bright red. Adrien was too sweet. That blond is going to give her a heart attack with how kind he is. It only compounded on to the guilt that she was not actually sick.

“Thank you.” Marinette spoke, her eyes sparkling and her mouth able to smile, trying her best to remain composed.

Adrien felt a faint blush on his cheeks.

“I am glad I could help. You always do so much for everyone, I think you deserve having someone help you.” Adrien smiles.

Marinette felt her heart pounding. Oh sweet macaroons she loved this boy. She felt something akin to inspiration strike. Adrien was the solution.

Marinette thought about it.

Turning down Chat noir would be difficult knowing with how smitten he now was with her civilian self. But if she was taken, chat noir would respect that. Even if she gets turned down by Adrien, which would be crushing, she can tell chat noir that she had recently had her heartbroken and was not looking for a relationship right now which would be an honest answer. And who knows, maybe the rejection from Adrien would help her see the cat in a new light. It was gonna take a lot of courage, but she needed to do it.

“I... I also talked with Nathalie. She was able to move around my schedule so I have a few hours. If you are feeling up to it. I can help explain some of the things you missed in class.” Adrien suggested. “If you want. No pressure.”

“I would Lo... Like that a lot. Thank you.” Marinette recovered. She would use this as a chance to confess to him.

Adrien went over to the desk where he had placed the notes and brought them to her bed.

“Hold on, I will grab a chair and...”

“You... You can sit on the bed if you want. I don't have anything contagious.” Marinette answered, she felt this new objective giving her more confidence in facing Adrien, her best friend would be proud.

Adrien felt his cheeks flush. He gulped quietly and sat on the bed near where she was. He focused on explaining the notes to her. Marinette and Adrien were both hardly paying attention to the actual notes, both more focused on each other and their inner monologues.

After an hour, Adrien had finished talking about the notes.

“Any questions?” 

“No, I think I got it. You are a great teacher.” Marinette praised.

“Oh. Well I would be more then happy to teach you more sometime.” 

Marinette felt her heart trying to burst out of her chest. She needed to do it now.

“Adrien. I have something I need to tell you.”

“Actually Marinette, I have something to admit first.” Adrien looked down.

Marinette stopped.

“What is it?” Marinette asked, her nerves starting to catch up to her.

“I didn't come here just to bring you the class notes or just to bring you the stuff. I also wanted to talk to you about our friendship.”

Marinette felt her heart sink.

“Oh...”

Adrien took a deep breath.

“I don't want to be just a friend to you.” Adrien exclaimed.

Marinette’s heart stopped sinking and returned back to its original position.

“Wh-Wh-What do you mean?” Marinette’s eyes were wide.

Adrien’s cheeks were scarlet red. Her innocent blue eyes looking at him so closely. He felt his breaths get heavy.

“Ever since I started school, after we got passed that misunderstanding about the gum, we have been friends. You made me that cool hat for Christmas, you cheered me on in my fencing, you gave me your lucky charm to help me be better at video games, you even let me drag you around Paris trying to help me escape fans. You have done so much for me. You even let me think that my dad got me the scarf you made for my birthday.”

Marinette felt her eyes water and her heart ache, ‘How did he find out about the scarf?’

“Marinette. You are a wonderful, incredible, fantastical person that has made my life better just by having you in it.” Adrien stated clearly. “You are someone that sees me for who I really am. I wanted to... I want to tell you...”

Adrien moved closer to her.

Marinette moved a bit closer to him.

“I am in love with you. Will you go out with me?”

Marinette felt her entire body burn with absolute delight. She had dreamed about this moment. But her dreams could even compare to the actual feeling of hearing those words come out from his lips.

“Yes.” Marinette answered trying her best not to squeak and failing miserably.

They paused and looked deep into each others eyes.

“May I?” He whispered as their faces were close together.

Marinette nodded sweetly. The two moved in and kissed. The soft kiss that was so sugary and sweet that just looking at it made tikki believe that she had just devoured a plate of macaroons. The red Kwami hiding nearby had to do everything not to squeal with joy.

Their lips parted and Marinette could see the pure smile on his face after the kiss was blinding with how cute it was. Marinette wasn't sure how she would be able to survive dating him. She was already a tomato from the kiss, that smile was just excessive.

Adrien jumped from the bed.

“Yes! She said yes! My Princess said YES!”

Marinette smiled.

“Yes, Your princess said...” Marinette paused. “ Princess?”

Adrien stoped as he heard her statement.

Adrien felt the joy he felt drain and he went pale. Oh no, Ladybug was going to kill him.

Marinette felt everything connect. He was never around when chat noir was there. His penchant for puns, that blond hair, those green eyes, that soft smile. Then combine that all with that nickname. It was so obvious in retrospect. But Marinette couldn't deny her thoughts.

“CH-CH-CHAT NOIR!?” 

Adrien turned around slowly.

“Marinette sweetie... please don't tell ladybug.”

And in the silence, the laughter of a cat Kwami could be heard from the model’s shirt pocket.

_______________________________________________________________________

(Oh f*** this is the most diabetes inducing Fluff I have ever written in my life. It is so sugary and sweet. Please let me know if my sleep deprivation is worth reading this.)

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 32

When Yaesha and Sawyer arrived to their new room to examine Nenani and her mother and brother, her first inclination was to inquire about Jae.

“I won’t lie to you. He’s busted up pretty good,” Sawyer said. “Got himself a broken arm with two different fractures in two places and three bruised ribs, but he is very much alive.”

“Is he in pain?” she asked.

“No, not as of right now. He’ll be sedated for another day or so to let the worse of the swelling and bruises heal a bit before we start to bring him out of it. But no head trauma, so he won’t be bed ridden as long as you were. I guess that thick skull of his is good for something at least, but he’ll be tender for a good while. Bruised ribs take a long time to heal.”

Yaesha hummed in agreement. “My worry is once he is back on his feet he’ll go gallivanting across roofs and tables the way he does and aggravate his injuries and prolong the recovery time. Or worse, hurt himself all over again.”  

“I don’t suppose I could see him, could I?” Nenani asked.

Sawyer shook her head. “Sorry. Not just yet. But, don’t fret too much. When we bring him out of it, we’ll make sure to let him know you’re fine.”

“He was beside himself when he had thought you had perished,” Yaesha said. “We had to sedate him just so he was still long enough to set his arm properly.”

Yaesha’s attention turned to her mother then and he spoke very quietly to her, inquiring about her various scars, if she was in pain, etc. Poor little Haiyer had all but buried himself under his mother’s arms and no amount of coaxing was calming him down.

“He’s never been around so many people before,” Oira said tiredly. “Please forgive him.”

“Nothing at all to forgive,” Yaesha replied kindly. “He’s merely over stimulated and in an unfamiliar place. The poor Prince just needs a little quite and he’ll be right as rain.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, m’lady, when was the last time you or your son ate anything?”

Sawyer rubbed some salve on the cuts on Nenani’s face from where Aidus was gouged he with his claws and a few other scrapes and scratches were treated similarly. She was bandaging a more serious cut on her leg when there came a soft knock on the door and a familiar form stepped through.

Lolly was in tears when she saw Nenani. Despite Keral’s desire to keep the information secret, word seemed to have gotten around fast that Keral had returned from the wilds with Nenani. Alive and whole as well as the rumor that a daughter of the dead Silvaaran King had been found. The Matron struggled to compose herself as she entered the Blossom room as Yaesha continued examining the newest guests of the King. But when Nenani saw her enter, she got to her feet and walked to the edge of the side table where Sawyer had been looking over her. “Lolly!”

Lolly did not say anything, only gave a small curtsy as she entered and then eased herself to crouch down so they could speak on equal footing. She was beaming ear to ear and there were tears in her eyes. “How are you feeling, Princess?”

Nenani starred at her, confused. She looked back to where her mother was resting and Yaesha was quietly telling her something. “I’m not...no, Mama’s the Princess.”

Lolly smiled indulgently, reaching out and taking the hem of her skirt between two fingers. “Nenani, dear, if you’re mother is a Princess, so are you.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. For all the talk of Princesses and Kings and Mages, it hadn’t occurred to her that her mother’s former life as a Princess would have any real affect on her. She found the idea rather distressing. “But...she’s not really a Princess anymore,” She said. “Grandfather disowned her.”

“As true as that may be,” Lolly replied patiently. “She is still a highborn lady and that demands a level of decorum and respect. And as her daughter, that status is granted to you as well.”

“Oh,” Nenani replied, not knowing how to really feel about all that.

“And if the Princess would permit it,” Lolly said with a warm smile. “I would very much like to give her a hug.”

Nenani’s confused frown turned into a wide smile and she nodded. “Yes, please!”

The Blossom room was not very large as far as the finer guest rooms of the royal apartments, but it was centrally located close to the heart of the King’s Keep, well protected, and even with three humans occupying the room, there was more than enough space. The linens had been arranged so that there were three distinct ‘beds’ for each of them on which to sleep. A stiff board had been placed on top of the larger mattress to create a sort of floor and then a decorative carpet placed atop that. It had effectively created an elevated platform for the smaller human occupants to use. There was even a carved wooden staircase that lead to the floor.  When Nenani had asked Sawyer about it upon first seeing it, she laughed and said, “How do you think they accommodated Silvaaran dignitaries before the war?”

After releasing Nenani from her hug, Lolly turned her attention to Oira. Yaesha was tending to her as she lay still in one of the makeshift human beds. Haiyer was fast asleep next to her, his face tear stained and still flushed, having cried himself into exhaustion and into a deep sleep.

“M’lady,” Lolly said as she stood next to Yaesha and gave another curtsy. “Is there anything you require?”

Oira was still very pale and she looked utterly spent as she lay in the white linens of her bed. She just shook her head, not speaking and not meeting any of their gazes.

“She is very weak,” Yaesha said to Lolly softly. “Malnourished and very dehydrated and her meeting with his Majesty was very draining. She will need plenty of rest.”

“I’ll send for some broth then,” Lolly said, lowering her voice to match Yaesha’s quiet timbre. “And what of the little prince?”

“He is in better condition, but is also malnourished and dehydrated. In addition, he is quite small for his age,” Yaesha replied, adjusting his spectacles. “But he is young, so with a healthy diet he should recover just fine. I don’t believe it will stunt his growth. Some bread soaked in broth should pep him right up once he awakens. Poor thing wouldn’t stop crying.”

“Then I will see to it myself,” Lolly replied and made way for the door.

“Miss Lolly?” Nenani asked hastily when she would have left the room. When the Matron turned, Nenani asked, “Are you going to the kitchen? Can I come with you?”

Lolly frowned. “My apologies, dear. But I think it’s best for you to remain here...”

“Please!” Nenani begged. “I just want tell them I’m okay.”

Lolly regarded her kindly, but firmly. “I’m sure the news has reached them, Princess.”

“But...I’m not a Princess,” Nenani replied, but still felt the outright rejection without the words having been outwardly spoken. “And I want to see them...please?”

The longing in her voice made Lolly’s frown turn sad. She understood her desires, but also understood that things had changed. Even if Nenani had not come to terms with it yet. Things could not go back to how they were.

“Nenani,” came Oira’s weak voice which drew both her daughter���s and Lolly’s gazes. “Are you wishing to see your friends in the kitchens?”

Nenani turned to her mother, feeling a little ashamed. “...yes, Mama.”

Oira’s smiled faintly. “I’m sure they would be very happy to see you, baby. And when I am a little better, I would like the chance to meet them as well. To thank them for all they have done for you.”

Nenani broke out into a wide smile and turned to Lolly in excitement. Lolly bowed. “Very good m’lady. I’ll make sure she returns safely.”

“Thank you madame,” Oira said. “And also for taking care of her as well. She told me you and the other ladies were very kind to her.”

“Not at all,” Lolly replied with a pleased smile. “Your daughter came to us under rather...odd circumstances.”

“So I’ve been told,” Oira replied with a small weak laugh. “But you have my gratitude regardless.”

“I will return with some bread and broth,” Lolly said, moving over to where Nenani was impatiently hoping up and down. “Alright, little ma’am. I’ll take you, but first we have to do something about your hair.”

……………………………………………..

Her head felt a little tender after Lolly had once more tamed the wild mane into a clean braid and it did not miss her notice that she took much more time in making each plat even and neat. And the result was a very tight braid that pulled uncomfortably at her scalp, but she supposed it was far less likely to get undone now.

“Do they know…?” she asked Lolly as the Matron moved through the halls with ease. Servants made way for her and gave her courteous greetings. “That I’m...y’know. A...princess?”

“I do not know what they may have heard,” Lolly admitted. “But I would be shocked if they had not heard that you’re alive at the very least.”

“What about me being a...” she trailed off. It seemed so surreal. How she could just be a simple orphan girl one day and the next...be a princess and a fire mage. It made her head spin.

“Being a what?” Lolly asked, confused.

“Nevermind.” Nenani bit her lip and shrugged. So they had heard some of it, but not everything. If Lolly had not heard that she was a fire mage, then that part at least Keral had managed to keep under wraps. So long as Nenani kept her emotions in check and she did not spark, she would be able to keep the secret longer. She recalled all the times she had ever heard anyone speak of fire mages. It was almost never in a positive light and the mere mentioning of them seemed to make most Vhasshalans nervous. And after seeing her mother’s own powers, she believed they may have had a real reason to fear them. Her mother had admitted that she was not very well trained either. So if someone with only basic knowledge of their powers was able to nearly kill a Vhasshalan by themselves…

She could smell the cook fires long before they were in sight and it made her anxious and excited. Lolly turned the corner and into the space where the camp had been set up and cried out suddenly when someone from the other side rounded the corner at the same time, carrying a large crate. They dropped it and potatoes spilled out of the overturned crate.

“Ah!,” said Herit, his face flush with embarrassment and he immediately bent to start gathering up the spilled vegetables. “Sorry, Miss Lolly, I was in my own head and...” He looked up and paused, seeing the small human girl that Lolly was holding and he leaped to his feet. “N-nenani!”

The younger giant reached out for her, but Lolly sidestepped, putting up a finger. “No grabbing, young man. It’s very rude, you know to just go about and...”

Neneni felt something brush against her shoulder and had only a moment to see hands descend upon her before she was plucked from Lolly’s arms.

“Yoink!” Saen said as he slipped from behind Lolly with his prize and began to quickly walk away, bringing the little girl to his face to nuzzle her with his nose and murmured to her, “Well aren’t ye just a sight fer sore eyes...”

“Saen, get back here!” Lolly yelled after him, but the cook merely hastened his pace. Nenani was giggling as she bounced along with the cook’s gait. One of his hands rubbed at her head affectionately.

“We’re gonna have to give ya a title or somethin’, Dumplin’!” he told her with a wide grin. “Survivin’ a wyvern and a dragon? Lass, you’ve seen more combat than most a’ these fuckin’ guards!”

“If they want to trade,” she told him dryly. “They can have it.”

He laughed heartily at that and she almost thought she could see his eyes shimmering.

“Gods, I’m so glad yer alright,” he said as he slipped a finger under her chin, making her squeak and pull away. “Ye don’t know how much.” The others had clearly heard Herit’s yell and were now looking to Saen as he approached the camp, his arms held in a certain way that they knew meant he was carrying a human.

“Saen,” Avery called, a cleaver still gripped in his hand. Bart was beside him and had also paused in his own work; his eyes were wide and seeking. “Is that the Dumplin’?”

“SHE LIVES!” Saen yelled, hoisting her up above his head like a prize to be shown off. Avery and Bart put their cleavers down and hastily went to meet him. Bart wiped his hands on his apron and then held his hands out expectantly. Though normally Saen was loathed to relinquish Nenani when he had a hold of her, he sat her gently into the hardened hands without a fuss or protest. Bart brought the little human up to his face, eyes narrowed.

“Oi. Didn’t ye promise Yale ye weren’t gonna be fightin’ no more giant lizards, gal?” he asked sternly and Nenani wilted a little.

“I...I did,” she said sheepishly.

But the stern frown and narrowed eyes broke into a warm and very relieved expression and Bart kiss the top of her head ever so gently. “Well then,” he said with a chuckle. “Ye be owin’ the lad an apology fer breakin’ yer promise to him.”

“And fer worryin’ the hell outta us all!” Avery added fiercely. “Fuckin’ hells, lass. A dragon? Really now? Ye could a’ started yer slayin’ career with somethin’ a wee bit smaller? A sheep maybe? Or a fuckin’ squirrel?”

“I’m sorry,” Nenani said, trying to sound sincere, but she couldn’t stop grinning.

“Oh, aye. I bet ye are,” Bart barked out a laugh. He brought her further into the camp just as Kol and Quinn had abandoned their station and rushed over.

“I have a mind to hang yer wee self off a’ the fuckin’ battlements, Dumplin’,” Quinn growled. “What the fuck were ya thinkin’?!” His vehemence surprised her as Quinn rare ever got mad at her for anything, but he was red faced and angry. “Don’t ye remember us tellin’ ya about Dragons? And then ye go stand on the roof while one’s flyin’ overhead? Ye daft?!”

“Well, I didn’t know there was a dragon,” she frowned at him.

“Excuses, excuses,” Kol said with a grim frown to match his fellow’s. The two bakers caught each other’s eye and their frowns disappeared and then they were grinning at her. “But all that aside, we’re really glad yer not dead, Dumplin’.”

“Still might hang ya from the battlements,” Quinn said with a smirk. “If Farris doesn’t stuff ye in the cocotte a’ his first, that is. Warnin’ ye now lass. Ye might be sleepin’ in there fer the next week.”

They all shared a good laugh at that and Nenani felt a warmth spread all through her and it was almost like she wanted to cry, but not because she was sad, but because she was so incredibly happy. Lolly marched into their midst, none too pleased. Herit trailed behind her, peaking around the Matron curiously to wave at Nenani. “I realize you lot aren’t much for formalities and such, but you should really make an effort now. At least to set an example for the others.”

“What are ye talkin’ about?” Avery asked as he reached out to playfully pinch Nenani’s arm and she batted at his fingers.

“About how you address the Princess,” Lolly replied, gesturing to Nenani. Many heads all turned at once to Neanani, confused and incredulous and then back to Lolly.

“...what now?” Saen asked.

Lolly glared at them all, exasperated. “Well, I take that to mean you all haven’t heard then.”

“Heard what?” Quinn asked.

Lolly sighed. “The servants upstairs are all gossiping about it so I might as well give the truth to you before their outrageous conspiracies make it down here. You have a right to know I suppose.”

“Well, now I’m really curious,” Kol said with a Cheshire grin.

“Nenani’s mother. She’s one of King Haeral’s daugters; Princess Aine Elaine Oira,” Lolly explained and paused as she gauged their reactions and perhaps taking a little pleasure in it. Bart’s face remain placid, but Avery looked thoroughly perplexed. Quinn and Kol were both confusedly slack jawed and Saen started to laugh awkwardly. Lolly eyed him distastefully.

Nenani felt Bart’s grip on her loosen just a bit and there was silence for a few beats before he murmured, “...yer fuckin’ with us.”

Lolly bristled at the accusation. “I am most certainly not, sir!”

“So. Her Mum was...a fuckin’ princess?” Quinn asked, seeming to find it very hard to believe.

“Princess Dumplin’!” Saen howled with laughter. Both Kol and Avery joined in.

“Not was,” Lolly corrected Quinn. “Is. She is a Princess.”

“But ain’t the lil’un an orphan? So...ain’t her mum dead?” Quinn asked, squinting in confusion. “Thought they were all killed when Silvaara fell.”

“As did everyone,” Lolly replied seriously. “But when Keral came back with Nenani, he had the Princess too. Barnaby’s already confirmed it. Princess Aine survived the massacre.”

“So she’s alive?” Bart asked and then looked down at Nenani with a smile. “Yer Mum, eh?”

Nenani nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“The King placed both the Princess and young her son under his protection and Yaesha is seeing to them now,” Lolly said with a nod. “My original errand was to come get them some bread and broth for them, but Nenani wanted to come see you all.”

“Ye say she’s got a son too?” Bart said as he sat Nenani down onto the prep table and pulled a wooden serving tray from a stack set off near the lipper barrels. “Ye never said anythin’ about ye havin’ a brother, lass.”

“I didn’t know I had one. He was born after Papa was killed and Mama went missing,” Nenani replied. “He’s still really little. His name’s Haiyer.”

“Yes,” Lolly said with a smile. “He’s very young. Much younger than Jae was when he first arrived. Poor little thing’s been crying almost the entire time and the Princess...if you could only see her, Bart. The poor woman’s been through something terrible. She has those eyes; the kind you would see on the soldiers coming back from the war.”

Bart looked to Saen and gestured with his head. “Go fetch me a bowl, lad if we have any a’ them smaller ramekins, grab two of ‘em.”

“Aye,” Saen replied and dashed across the yard to the tent. Quinn and Kol turned back to their stations and returned a moment later with some of the Ibronian flat bread.

“The ovens are still being fixed, so we don’t have proper bread just yet,” Quinn explained as he handed some to Bart. He began cutting it into pieces of a more manageable size for a human.

“This’ll do fer now,” he said.  

“The bread’s for the prince,” Lolly explained. “The Princess is too weak for anything solid right now.”

“She ill?” asked the butcher.

“Not ill with sickness,” Lolly said sadly. “Just...ill with exhaustion, I think. I don’t think they were fairing very well out in the wilds. Yaesha says they’re both malnourished.”

“Mama was really scared to come back with us,” Nenani explained. “She didn’t know the war was over or that the Blood King was dead.”

Bart spared Nenani a smile. “And what did she say when ye told her ye’d been living here for a while?”

“She got mad at first,” Nenani replied. “She thought you’d been keeping me prisoner.”

“Must’ve been quiet the shock,” he said as he cut the pieces of bread up. “Must be pretty happy to have yer Mum back, eh?”

Nenani nodded and had to concentrate on not feeding into the pull of emotion. There was so much of it though. “She’s changed a lot. She’s very sad and scared and...she blames herself for all the bad stuff that happened. But it wasn’t her fault. She just wanted to protect me...”

“From the old King?” he asked.

“...everything,” Nenani answered, staring at her hands. “She...she tried to kill Keral.”

Beside her, she heard Avery make a startled choking sound. “What? Why? I mean, I’m sure Keral’s use to that sort a’ thing, but still...”

“She thought he was gonna hurt me. Because he’s a blue coat.”

Bart’s eyes narrowed and he studied the small girl for a moment before turning back to his task. “...did she now?”

Nenani didn’t meet his gaze and just continued to stare at her hands and then at the grains of wood that made up the prep table. She didn’t like secrets. She didn’t like lying and there had been so much of that going on. Wouldn’t it just be easier to say all that there was to say? They were her friends, she told herself. If her being a Princess didn’t change how they felt about her, maybe her being a fire mage wouldn’t either. Surly they would understand she would never hurt them...right?

“Ain’t a small thing fer a human t’be a real threat against one of us big folk. What’d she do?” Bart asked gently. He paused and eyed her from the side. “Lass?”

Nenani bit her lip. “She...tried to burn him,” she answered. Bart’s eyes narrowed very minutely, but he did not say anything, seeming to wait for her to continue. “But...but I stopped it. I didn’t want her to hurt him...too many people are hurt because of me and...I didn’t want him to get hurt either and I didn’t want Mama to be the one to hurt him...” She pressed her head to her knees. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone either...”

She heard the sound of a knife being set down onto the table and the warmth of a hand as it cupped her back.

“Lass,” Bart said quietly, but firm. “What’re ye trying t’say?”

She looked up into his face, but his features blurred as the tears poured down. Her fingers began to tingle and she could see the light of her flames reflected in Bart’s eyes. She let the flames pull from the well inside her and Bart pulled his hand back, startled. Fire was swirling around her in a dazzling display of light and as much as it scared her to reveal herself, it felt good to let her emotions flow and feed the flames and allow it to dissipate instead of stewing inside and festering. Bart’s eyes were wide, but they did not seem afraid. He looked more curious than anything.

“Wha..?” she heard Avery’s baffled cry. “What the...that’s...fuckin’ hells!”

“Oh my stars,” Lolly murmured with wide frightened eyes, covering her mouth.

“What...what the fuck is all this?!” Quinn asked.  

“Mage fire,” Bart replied faintly. “That boys is mage fire.”

“Nenani,” Lolly’s voice said from above her and she looked up. Lolly looked scared. “That...it...it doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Nenani shook her head. “No. Maevis said it doesn’t actually burn anything. When I’m sad or scared or angry I start to spark. But I have to want to hurt someone for it to burn. But I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” She bent her head back down. “Too many people are already hurt.”

“So...you’ve been a fire mage this entire time, then?” Avery asked. Nenani nodded miserably and Avery ran a hand through his hair. “Well, fuck me...”

“Please,” Lolly hissed. “Language.”

Avery looked at her askance. “When is it more appropriate to swear then at a time like this? The girl’s lit up like a bonfire!”

“I thought fire mages were a lot younger when they...what do they call it when they just up and start burnin’?”

“Blooming,” Nenani replied glumly. “The smoke mage...he’s been after me because he wanted to use me to get to Mama. She told me that she put a seal on me when I was a baby so I would never bloom. She thought it would keep me safe. When...when the dragon had me, the seal broke.”

There was silence in the camp and Nenani could not bring herself to meet any of their faces.

“Sounds like yer Mum loves ye very much,” Bart said. She felt his hand return to her back and rub gently despite the flames and Nenani choked back a sob. The small gesture mean the world to her. Her worst fear was they would be scared of her fire and she would lose them as friends. Her being a princess would bring change enough, she was beginning to see. But she didn’t think she could stand to have them look at her with fear.  

“Well, I gotta say,” Saen said looking down at Nenani with a grin. “That is a very impressive thing to see. Seven Hells, lass. How many more surprises ye got fer us today?”

She looked at Saen and smiled gratefully. Avery suddenly laughed, planting his hands on his hips and regarding Nenani with a devious smirk. “Oi now! If ye learn to actually burn anythin’ with that fire a yer’s, ye can help me on pit duty after all!”

“I was actually thinkin’ she could help us keep the ovens warm when the snows come,” Quinn chuckled. “Once we get the kitchens back in order, that is.”

Lolly opened her mouth but Bart waved her off. “Let them have their fun, lass. We ain’t gonna make her do none of it. Wouldn’t be proper fer a Princess, eh?”

“Oh, boy. Farris’s gonna have a right apoplexy when he see’s ye burning like that,” Saen said, his eyes following the flames as they danced.

“Where is Farris?” Nenani asked.

“He and Gjerk went to Dornby,” Bart replied. “It’s on the way to Yale’s Mum’s home. When we thought ye were dead, Farris sent him home for a few days. Poor lad fell to pieces when Rheil told us what happened.”

There was a surge of regret and sadness and her flames pulsed, startling Avery and Kol.

“Ah! What was that fer?”

“Fuckin’ hells!”

“Settle down, lass,” Bart said sternly. “Farris’ll be back tonight and I can have the Falconer sent a message to Yale. Chin up now.”

“Falconer?” she asked, wiping at her face.

“Aye. Old Shefford’s the King’s falconer. They’re mostly used for huntin’, but they’ve been used to send messages quickly before. He owes me a favor or two so I’ll see if he can’t pass a message along to Yale.”

Nenani laughed and scrubbed the last of her tears away, nodding. “Okay...”

“Hm,” he nodded, pleased. He filled the tray with a bowl of broth, the cut up flatbread, and the two smaller ramekins. He looked to Lolly. “Ye sure we shouldn’t send something else up? The lil’ prince might care fer some jam.”

“Yes, I think that would do nicely,” Lolly said with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Bah, ain’t nothin’. All lil’uns like jam. Best thing to bribe ‘em with,” he replied with a smirk and turned to go grab a jar, but Herit was suddenly there, holding a small ceramic pot and offering it to Bart who took it with a nod to the younger worker. “Ah, good lad.”

Lolly took hold of the tray and looked to Nenani, still glowing like a candle, and then to Bart. “I’ll leave Nenani with you for a little bit, but I’ll be back to come collect her.”

“I can’t stay down here?” Nenani asked, wilting a little.

“Now, don’t go pullin’ no long faces,” Bart said. “We ain’t goin’ no where and I’m sure yer Mum would start to worry if ye weren’t back before long. Yer more than welcome to come down tomorrow, lass.”

Lolly nodded to Bart. “I’ll be back later then. Remember, boys. She is a highborn lady. Try to have a little decorum going forward.” They watched Lolly leave with the tray and as she disappeared behind a wall, there were much snickering.  

“So,” Kol turned to Nenani and grinned. “Are we to start addressing ye as Princess Dumplin’, then?”

“Please don’t,” she said with a frown.

“So just Princess, then?” Saen asked.

“No.”

“Fine. How about just m’lady’?” Quinn asked with the same cheeky smugness.

“No! None of that nonsense.”

“As m’lady commands,” Avery said with a bow. She reached over to one of the left over pieces of flat bread that Bart had cut up and chucked it him, hitting him squarely in the chest.

“Oi!”

“Well, that wasn’t very ladylike, now was it?” Quinn snickered and she threw other piece at him too, hitting him in the shoulder. “Oi now! Yer wastin’ food!”

Bart waved at them. “On with ye lot. Still lots to be done.”

“So,” Avery asked, looking at her curiously as Quinn and Kol went back to their station. “How do ya put yer flames out?”

Nenani held her arms out shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m still working on that part...”

Saen elbowed Avery and snickered. “We could always dunk her in the stable trough and see if that don’t do the trick.”

“No!” she said incredulously.

“As m’lady commands,” both Avery and Saen said with a sarcastic bow.

Nenani glared at them, her flames sparking wildly. “Stop it!”

Bart just laughed. “Alright, lads. Enough a’ that before the guards mistake her for a warning beacon and send out the call to arms.”

Nenani glared at the butcher with a look of betrayal. “Bart!”

[amessageonthewind]

The Difference Between Strength and Power

Word Count: 3308

Pairing: Naga!Connor x Rachel

Content Warnings: Mentions of verbal and emotional abuse, coarse language, mentions of killing and consumptions of souls, general unpleasant attitude from Connor.

Based on a dropped rp thread with one of my partners on my rp blog and inspired by Netflix Castlevania Season 4.

            It had been a few days since the elderly gorgon woman made their situation direr. That she laid the true stakes before them, stipulating that without the other, disaster would befall the village. If the detective were to be slain by outside forces, the naga would be captured and the village pillaged and exterminated and everything plundered and looted. If Connor killed her or incited her wrath that would lead her to try to fight him in a battle she couldn’t win, the curse would claim her as a host and would destroy everything in the village and the naga’s own mind. Or at least what was left of it. And if Connor was taken from the village, they would not be able to stop the onslaught from the invaders that encroached on that territory.

            So, Connor was forced to be more patient with her. Kinder. She knew it was false. She knew that he was just behaving, but it was better than the constant verbal and emotional abuse he would unfairly barrage her with. And she, in-turn, would still be patient and empathetic towards him. Even if he was still rather unpleasant and she made that fact very clear. She wasn’t having his nonsense, especially with their being forced to work together.

            While he initially rejected her offer to attend to the large sapphire snake god, the marble-white gorgon reminded him that they had to work together and that that meant they needed to begin actually spending time together. When he pointed out that it was the breeding season, which meant he was particularly volatile, she retorted that that was none of her concern. After all, it was his fault that it was so volatile, since he insisted on rejecting his base naga needs to lounge around for three days at a time and drink himself into a slumbering stupor.

            So, Rachel tended to him every day since. She performed tasks for him around his cenote, with the irritable god keeping a close eye on her.

            And, naturally, her curiosity got the better of her. “Why do you consume souls?” She asked him one day, whilst shining some of the weapons he had collected in his hoard. His long tail cascaded on practically every crevice it could, the iridescent scales making it look like the cave opening was filled with auroras. He looked rather bored watching her work, swirling a glass of wine in his hand as his amber eyes glittered with annoyance. “You’ve already got enough power and strength to last for lifetimes. What’s the point of continuously doing it, especially if you know that the more souls you consume, the worse your mental state will be?”

            Glaring at her, his tail tip began to lash quietly. “I don’t have to answer such insolent questions, you witless maggot.”

            “You should if you actually care about preventing your own worst aspects from destroying the things you value.” Rachel pointed out, clearly unfazed by his foul attitude at this point. “People can accommodate much better if you make it clear what actually needs to be accommodated and why. And at least if people are properly informed, it doesn’t invite further questions. Also, withholding that information is extremely irresponsible on your part.”

            Scoffing, Connor continued to scowl at the small human. “You still know nothing, foolish human.”

            “And whose fault is that?” Rachel asked, his insults having no effect on her.

            “Yours.” He retorted, his anger billowing off him like an angry storm cloud as his tail began coiling closer to him, retracting into himself. “You constantly speak as though you have something of value to say, yet when you are told something, you fail to listen to it. You hear only to respond. You don’t actually listen to learn.”

            “Then give me something actually helpful to learn instead of berating me for not knowing.” The detective hissed, getting fed up with his immature and entitled behaviour. “It’s not fair that you blame me for not knowing things when you’re the one who withholds that information from me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re doing that on purpose just so you can have an excuse to be angry. Which, speaking of, you should probably go hunt, soon.”

            Connor still couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman. She was doing him a service and she still acted as though she was in a position to tell him what to do. To give him, the god and guardian deity of this place for centuries, orders as though he were stupid. “Stop telling me what to do, foolish human.”

            “I will when you stop making the worst decisions possible for your self-care when you’re not in a position where it’s wise for you to neglect them.” Rachel deflected easily. She just as much had no patience for his nonsense when there was much more at stake here than his easily bruised ego. “The entire village is in danger because of your insistence on maintaining self-destructive habits. You make a big deal out of me pushing you to such points and putting the village in danger, but it is not my responsibility to coddle your bad habits. It’s yours to fix them. You’re the one in the position of power and it’s unfair to place the responsibility in the hands of those without that power. And the thing is, your problems have very easy fixes.”

            Every response only made him angrier, but even when shouting at her, she showed no fear. And while that did not help his ire, he quickly learned that responding to the woman with anger would not yield the results he ultimately wanted. So, begrudgingly and with what felt like a searing hot knife cutting through his pride, he relented. “Such as…?”

            “Hunting.” Rachel replied easily with a cocked brow, putting away a sword and moving on to what looked like some sort of spiked club. “I know you’ve got plenty of good food prepared so lovingly for you, but hunting is more than just for food. It’s also for enrichment. It’s mentally and physically stimulating and engaging. Even housecats, who don’t need to hunt for their food, need their hunting instincts stimulated through play or they become violent and destructive to their environment and the people around them. I suspect that a lot of your pent-up anger is made worse when you drink yourself into lethargy. You’re not properly stimulating yourself in the way you actually need. There’s a reason creatures of all kinds get angry and irritable when left alone for long periods of time with nothing to do and nothing to stimulate them. Enrichment is vitally important for one’s mental health.”

            Looking at Connor, she fixed him with a stern look. “I know you hate being compared to humans, but there is an irony in that the more you abstain from the aspects of yourself that make you inhuman, the more of your humanity you sacrifice. And the worse you end up becoming. Do you see my point?”

            He didn’t want to. The naga didn’t want to admit that the days when he’d spend laying around in the sun, there was an unbearable prickle under his scales. Impatience and boredom eating away at him like beetles and termites to wood. It was both his body’s need for a mate and the growing bristling that would just build and build until he emerged from his cenote. And as much as he didn’t want to take pleasure in it, devouring the assassin that entered their village was as close to relief as he’d been able to get.

            Perhaps…she had a point. Not that he would admit it verbally.

            Instead, he decided to answer her earlier question. Just to make her stop questioning him, though Connor was certain she would still find something to criticize him over. “Each soul grants me strength.” He answered, garnering Rachel’s full attention as she regarded him, pausing her task to take in his words. “My powers grow stronger the more I consume. Which allows me to maintain the safety of the village and its strength.”

            Tilting her head at him, she had about a dozen more questions. “How many souls have you consumed?”

            “Countless.” Connor replied. “By the hundreds of thousands, if I were to make an educated guess.”

            That…was a lot. “Surely that’s more than enough.” She figured. “Especially if each soul just makes your mental health worse. Surely you can just…kill people without eating their souls. It doesn’t really sound worth doing, at this point. Does your power diminish if you don’t?”

            Once again, the sapphire naga found himself irritated by her questioning. The fact that she would dare question him at all was a disrespect most vile. But, as the Pool of Truth most blatantly showed him, he needed to keep himself from just killing her on the spot. But if it would get her to drop the topic, he’d comply. For now. “I’m not keen on finding out.”

            Seemed this wasn’t a good enough answer for her. “You could always pay the gorgon a visit and ask the Pool of Truth for the answer to that.”

            That made him bristle once more. “I don’t need to have the answer for how my own body and mind works. I’m only tolerating you and that hag because she has powers I cannot compete with in my own fucking territory and if I kill you, then you will destroy everything I have ever worked to build.” He leaned in close, leering down at her with his bright eyes that held much contempt for her. Not that she cared. Like he said, there was little he could do to her now that he knew what was at stake. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be made powerless where you should feel strong?”

            “Yes.” Rachel responded without a second’s hesitation. “I do know how that feels. And if you actually care, then you should stop trying to make others feel that same way if you hate how it feels, yourself.”

            Again with giving him orders. But at this point, he was too tired to argue further with her. With a huff, he slithered away from her and slumped over another rock as he watched her continue to clean and polish his weapons. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of victory over him.

            After a moment’s silence, the woman’s voice broke through it once more to ask him another question. “Is that why you do it?” She asked him, glancing over at him with her dark eyes. “So you can feel strong when the world around you tries to make you feel weak? Is that it?”

            “I am strong.” Connor retorted, insulted that she would dare insinuate that he was weak. “Others who try to dethrone or slay me learn very quickly of that. That I am strength itself. That I embody strength that they cannot hope to achieve.”

            “Then why are you so quick to anger if you’re so secure in that?” Rachel asked him. “Anger comes from a place of caring a lot about something. It’s passion derived from feeling slighted because it comes from a place that’s personal. It’s something you care about deeply and that’s why it makes you angry. That’s where slight comes from. If you’re really so secure in your strength that has no equal, then why do you care so much about who knows it? Why do you care so much about the paltry opinions of humans who, at least in your view, can never be your equals? If that’s really what you believe, then in theory, none of it should matter. It shouldn’t even be worth anything other than simple dismissal, if it means that little.”

            Once again, Rachel really had no concern for holding her tongue. If she wasn’t in the position she was in, he would’ve gladly cut out her own tongue before flaying her alive and leaving her to rot where the animals could devour her. But he was not willing to condemn his people to a fate worse than death because of an angry spiteful gorgon his father once battled and defiled.

            So, through gritted teeth as his pride was wounded more and more, he answered. “Nagas are…prideful. We have every reason to be.” He explained, though the venom behind his words did not go unnoticed. It was clear how much being forced to practice humility was taking out of him. “We are powerful gods who inspire fear and wisdom in humans. There’s a reason we are worshipped as much as we are. We naturally want to be treated with that reverence and don’t react well when it isn’t given to us.”

            “Ah, I see.” Rachel said, though her tone was bored. “So, you’re used to being treated with utmost reverence in awe of your strength. And when you don’t get it, you feel wronged and thus you’re angry. And in your mind, those who can’t show you the respect you deserve shouldn’t get to exist at all. After all, for you it’s natural to be revered and worshipped. So, if someone doesn’t give you that, it must be their fault and not yours because that’s the natural order of things. That there’s something wrong with them and not you because that goes against the way things should be. Is that it?”

            Her phrasing and tone was not appreciated. While she seemed to understand the nucleus as to his ideology and nature as a naga, she said it with derision. As though she were speaking to a spoiled brat who needed to be knocked down from their pedestal. Something Connor hated more than anything.

            But even if she did not like that, she seemed to understand. “In a sense, yes…” He relented, growing more and more tired of this exhausting and unsavoury conversation. “We are immortal. There is nothing that can kill us. We also don’t feel fear and the only way to kill a naga is to strike their heart at the moment when they do feel fear. Otherwise, we live forever.” Of course, there was another way, but that wasn’t relevant information for the human to know at this point. Or ever, realistically speaking. “As such, we strive to maintain the natural order of things. While we understand that the world around us changes in chaotic ways, we do not. And so, we maintain this in everything that we govern. A natural order that must not be disturbed. Therefore, we don’t react well when that order is threatened.” For a moment, he paused to think, letting out a breath as he tried to think of a way to put all these ideologies into a simple expression. “It’s…the naga’s virtue. We want everything to remain the same. To remain stable.”

            At that, Rachel scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Ah, ‘the naga’s virtue,’ fucking Hell…” She grumbled, clearly not taking that notion very seriously. “There’s an act of philosophical acrobatics for the ages.”

            “Oh, would you silence with your incessant need to be clever for once, you foolish human?” Connor snapped, though the volume in his voice did not change. More irritated than angry as he was putting more effort into trying to explain himself than in maintaining his anger. “You humans spend decades wandering and bumbling around and you call that a life. We have to take a longer view. So, we want stability.”

            As per usual, the detective was unaffected by his poor attitude. Raising an eyebrow, she paused while she was polishing the weapon she was currently working on. “And you’re saying you have that? That you have had that?”

            Blinking at her for a moment, the scaled deity shifted positions idly as he continued to speak. “I do.” He replied, easily. Of course he had stability. His village has had stability separated from the rest of the world’s chaos thanks to him. The fact that she would even question that was ludicrous, but for now, he let it go. “As this land’s protector, I have strength and I have always had strength. The strength to enforce a stable environment.” He paused, searching for the right way to explain his position. “Strength can fight wars, yes. But it can also build a shelter.” He then fixed her with an inquisitive look in his reptile-like eyes. “Are you following me?”

            “Just wandering and bumbling around.” Rachel replied, with a little bit of good humour to lighten the mood just the slightest bit. “Smaller shapes are better than big ones, Connor. And from what I understand about nagas, they typically want more than just weatherproof shelters.”

            “But it all comes from that virtue, don’t you see?” The naga replied back with, tilting his head at her with narrowed eyes.

            At that, Rachel shook her head. Seemed she had a much different take on things than he did. “Strength and power are different.” She deflected once more. “You claim to want strength. To maintain strength. To embody strength. But what you seek and consume is power. You consolidate and hold power. You embody power.”

            And there she went, assuming things about him once more. But he was honestly too tired to be angry with her. This entire exchange had exhausted him and he just wanted it to be over. “That was what my father did. What my father wanted.” He said, looking down at the stray bits of gold, armour, and weaponry strewn about on the ground before him. The naga reached down to fiddle at one of his coins, turning it over with his claws and more or less just moving it around out of boredom. “Which is…what ultimately ruined my life.”

            Looking down at his unfinished wine glass, Connor took another sip from it, looking at his own reflection. A mirror opposite from his father. His father, pearlescent evil and himself iridescent midnight that struck him down and took his place and made a home out of what was once Hell on Earth. And it all came from the desire for power. It never seemed to be enough for his father. He never seemed satisfied. “Power…” The sapphire naga hissed, bitterness coating the syllables. “Big, all-encompassing, projected power…is something else. It lends you more might, but it doesn’t have the utilities of strength. It lays eggs in you and it becomes a parasite you have to feed. Power does nothing but eat.”

            Connor continued to stare down into his glass of wine, but Rachel stared at the naga wide-eyed. A realization was forming in her mind as she stared absolutely speechless, putting a hand to her mouth as pieces started to put themselves together. Conclusions were being drawn, and the next sentence she would speak would have the weight of worlds behind them.

            “Like a naga…?”

            Only then did Connor look her directly in the eye. For a moment, and a moment alone, they were perfect mirrors of each other as the realization of his very nature, his very sense of self, was upended and recontextualized. Put in a new light that neither of them had been previously able to put to words. Both in the short time that the detective had known him and the centuries that Connor had been alive.

            Looking back down at his glass of wine, the scowl on Connor’s face was evident. He wasn’t just angry. Not at her. He was just…angry. In the cold, bitter, and heavy way that one was angry when their worldview was pulled out from beneath them.

            “Like…a naga.” He repeated, taking one last drink from his wine glass before his grip tightened on it and the glass shattered against the cave wall. He didn’t raise his voice.

            In fact, the detective was certain that that was the quietest she’d ever heard him speak.

[hisan-miren]

Redacted File

The Love Letter Pt 3

Raios was notably pissed off all throughout dinner with his sister shooting him smug glances and his parents stopping every now and then to look worriedly at him.

“Raios, is there something you want to tell the class?” his sister finally asked when his chopsticks kept breaking through his tofu.

“Fuck off,” he spat.  His sister must've heard what was happening from one of her customers. A few of his classmates had started to frequent her café after school, so it wasn't a stretch, but damn if she wasn't the last person he wanted knowing about his predicament.

“Raios,” his father stopped eating to shoot him a glare and scold him.  “You know that kind of language is not acceptable for a chief, let alone to speak to your family with.”  It irritated Raios to no end that his sister always got away with picking on him like this, but he knew it was also partially his fault for reacting.  Sadly, being quiet and taking it had never been something he was good at.  Raios' mother put down her chopsticks, the movements as fluid and regal as ever. She was really the epitome of the ideal chief's wife; calm, quiet, and elegant, but wielding plenty of authority when necessary.

“Now Raios, we can tell you're upset about something. It would do you well to discuss it to get your mind off it.”

“No thanks,” he ground out, stabbing at his fish again.

“Raios.”  He locked eyes with his father whose gaze made it very clear that his mother's kindness was not a request.  Raios grumbled and set down his chopsticks.

“… love letter…”

There was a collective confusion from his parents and a growing smugness from his sister.

“Mina got a love letter,” Raios ground out, now staring daggers at his grinning sister.

“Why is this a problem?  You two are a couple, so it stands to reason that Mina will reject it,” his father replied.

“… … …”

“Raios.”  An anger rose in his father's voice, but the boy remained remarkably silent.  “Raios, you and I both agreed: I will stop talks of arranged marriage only if you ask Mina out, and you assured me that would be done.”  Raios remained silent, a look of anxiousness and guilt replacing his usual anger.  

“I just…  I wanted to do this properly…”

“There’s no more time for ‘properly’, Raios.  You and Mina are both nearly a marriable age-”

“Oh come on!  No one on the island gets married at 16 anymore!  That custom’s beyond archaic!” Raios snapped.

“In. Any. Case!  If you do not court Mina soon, I will resume talks with other chieftains of the Orange Archipelago.  If you have not asked her in a week, then I’ll be travelling Kinnow to speak with their chief about his daughter,” his father said firmly, arms crossed and making it very clear that there was no room for negotiations.  “You’ve had two years.  Now you have one week.”

Raios gritted his teeth, and his hands gripped the chopsticks so hard that one of them snapped.  Raios wasn’t even sure he had that long.  In two days Mina was going to meet this guy (she hadn’t said she was going yet, but as far as Raios was concerned it was still a real possibility) and any chance Raios had of getting this to work out would go right out the window.

“Thanks for the food.”  Raios ground the words out like they were pith and dropped his chopsticks onto his plate before standing up and storming off, leaving half of his food.

An awkward silence followed until Mrs. Minori spoke up.

“You know, all of this could have been avoided if you had just told him in the first place that Mina was the one you’d been arranging for him to marry,” she said, raising her bowl to her lips to sip at the broth.  “But at least we know where he gets it…”

Raios was too antsy to wait for Mina the next day to go to school, so, instead, she was pleasantly surprised by the sight of him coming to pick her up in the morning.  She all but squealed when she saw him standing outside her house, but, remembering the events of the previous day, had to squash the feeling.

“R-Raios, uhh… it’s unusual for you to come pick me up.”  She could feel the corners of her mouth turning up as she tried to repress her grin, but Raios wasn’t looking at her.  In fact, he seemed unusually docile. “Raios?”  Now she was genuinely worried that she took her plan too far. Had what she’d done really affected him that much?

“Oh… sorry.  I got into an argument with the old man last night.  It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he replied.

“… Okay…  But you know you can talk to me about it… right?” she asked.  The furrow of his brows told her that he was feeling far more guilt and anxiousness than anger, but she didn’t even know where to begin.  Had her plot somehow caused the argument?  Or was what she’d done compounding on top of it? Now she was definitely regretting going about it the way she had.  She should have just asked him out and taken the dumb response so they could get into an argument and then she could maybe pound some sense into him.  But it was too late to tell him now.  She had no idea what kind of reaction he’d have.  He’d never been this unpredictable to her before.  They walked to school in relative silence with Raios clearly deep in thought the entire time.  Multiple times Mina thought to reach for his hand or give him a reassuring pat but didn’t knowing that it’s only be hypocritical coming from her.  When they got to their classroom, Raios remained pensive, just staring blankly out the window as the gears in his head kept turning on some seemingly impossible problem he had to solve.  She rarely saw him like this.  Granted she’d seen it once before, not long after they’d both turned 13, but it’d been quickly replaced within a week by his usual vigor and aggressiveness.  Disheartened, Mina put her face to her desk and sighed.  This was going to be a very long day.

By halfway through the day though, Mina had reinvigorated herself.  She’d decided!  When school was over, she was going to invite him to hang out and hopefully they could find their usual energy and get up to some kind of shenanigans! But, having spent the entire school day trying to think of ways to cheer him up, she found herself wholly unprepared to answer the question he posed to her when they were getting ready to leave.

“… What?”

“I asked if you’d decided what you’re doing about going to the docks tomorrow.”  His voice didn’t have the usual aggressiveness to it, but she could tell he was irritated.  She hadn’t actually thought about it.  How was she supposed to reply to a fake confession?  If she told him that she was going, then that all but told him she had no interest in him, but if she told him that she wasn’t, then her plan would be for naught.

“I um… I still haven’t decided,” Mina mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.  Out of the corner of her eye, she recognized one of his hands reaching out before pulling back.

“…Let me know when you figure it out,” he replied, walking off.  She didn’t even have the nerve to follow after him.  She just plodded along back home on auto pilot, even blocking out the conversation of Chise and Yuri the whole way back until she reached her bed and plopped down on it face first.

“This is the worst day ever,” she groaned into her futon.

[antiquecompass]

Fic: Signed, Sealed, Delivered

For Xichen Week Day 2 I picked ‘soulmate’ out of the prompts and took a jaunty little stroll back to the Winter King and Wizard Jiang in Journeys ‘verse

“You should consider yourself very lucky,” his mother said. “Few in this world have soulmates, even rarer still is for that mate to be found. And you have found yours in the Winter King.” She turned her eyes from the waters of their home, her fingers clenched around her arms. “And your betrothed is also your soulmate. And you two have a mutual attraction and affection for each other. So what, exactly, causes your hesitation? The Elders asked if you had any reservations. What could they possibly be?”

Jiang Cheng did not want to say it was fear, because it wasn’t. Nor was it caution. He wanted to accept the Winter King’s invitation, to stay and study at the Cloud Recesses for a turn of the sun. To learn more of the Winter Court where he would one day dwell. To learn more of the Sidhe that he--that he--it was still too early to say love. Still too new. Still too unknown.

“I suppose I am nervous,” he admitted.

His mother scoffed. “You are Jiang Cheng. You are born of Wizard and Siren stock. You bow to no one unless you choose to do so and you demand respect with your name and your power. You are the Winter King’s Chosen. To insult you is to insult the Crown of the Winter Court.”

“I don’t care about the Winter Court,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Good,” his mother said.

“I do care about Lan Xichen, and how I could be a disappointment to him, or the image he holds of me in his head. We have been acquaintances. We have been betrothed. We have exchanged letters and elemental messengers. And yet, in so many ways, we are strangers. We don’t know each other as partners. As the people beyond our titles. I don’t want to be a disappointment to him.”

“You will disappoint him if you refuse his invitation,” his mother stated. “And he may take it as a firm rejection.” She cupped his cheek. “You are much like your mother, my sea star, and though your eyes tell of your heart, the rest of you can be far harder to read.”

“I do not reject him,” Jiang Cheng said. He shook his head at the very idea. “Nor would I ever wish to do such a thing, but he’s a king and I am me.”

His mother grasped his chin tight, purple lightning dancing on her fingers, calling his own Siren magic, calling it up, calling it out, until it pulsed awake and alive across his skin.

“You are magnificent. The best that has ever come or will ever come from a Wizard and a Siren. I do not raise mediocre sons. Let the world think you’re nothing but a standard wizard, but we know the truth. The water calls to us, grants us its powers, and it loves you more than any raised outside the Sacred Seas in a very long time.”

Jiang Cheng nodded as his power filled him with the familiar warmth of his magic, a comfort since his youth.

“I will draft the letter of my acceptance tonight,” he said.

“Good,” his mother said, standing back, and finally letting him go. She turned, her magic causing ripples to shiver through the surrounding water.

Jiang Cheng let his power run over his fingers as he thought about their situation. It should’ve made things easier, he supposed, knowing his soulmate. Knowing he was a good, honorable person who genuinely cared about his family and his people. Knowing something and experiencing it were two very different beasts. They weren’t soul-bonded yet. It would take a decade, at the very least, of close contact before they could mindspeak. Knowing Xichen was his soulmate didn’t stop the nerves or the second guessing. 

Sometimes Jiang Cheng wished he didn’t know. That they could just court each other as they wished, damn all the proper traditions and politics and the like. Damn the expectations and the history of other soulmates, other love matches.

Let them just be themselves. To discover each other at their own pace, at their own time, in their own way. 

He couldn’t even respond to Xichen’s invite without having it approved by three different elders. 

Jiang Cheng looked down at his hands and then turned his gaze towards the end of the family pier. Inhuman laughter and splashing told him the mer-folk had come for a visit. He looked down at his hands, at the manifestation of his power, and smiled. 

Damn the rules. 

Even with his worries, Jiang Cheng knew who and what he wanted. And Xichen had addressed the invitation to him before any other in Lotus Pier. He wasn’t going to make him wait any longer. 

It would certainly be an unconventional method of delivering a reply, but his soulmate should know all the eccentrics that came with courting a wizard and siren.

***********

“He’s pacing,” Moira said.

“Yes,” Song Lan agreed.

“He’ll mark up the floor if he doesn’t stop,” Moira said.

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen agreed.

Lan Xichen paid little attention to his cousins and friends as he waited for an answer. Of course he didn’t expect an immediate response. An official visit of one of the Jiang Wizards to the Winter Court, especially his betrothed, would require deliberation and determination. A debate over good omens. Consultations. Politics.

But part of him had hoped Jiang Cheng would’ve sent word that he’d at least received the invitation.

He felt like they’d made progress, since his surprise visit to Lotus Pier last year. Their correspondence had increased dramatically, and he longed for one of those letters now, containing Jiang Cheng’s loose, slanted handwriting and harsh opinions and tangents about life in Lotus Pier. 

“Perhaps it did not reach him yet,” Wangji said. “It could’ve been intercepted by his mother or one of the councilors or one of his siblings.”

“Or his dogs,” Moira said. “They could’ve eaten it. Or that brother of his. Wouldn’t put it past the Necromancer.” She laughed. “Your face will freeze like that, Wangji. Stop glaring at me. It’s no one's fault but your own that you saw that Master of Destruction and decided, ‘thank you, Fates. I’ll take this one.’  After trying to kill him, of course.”

“I never--” Wangji cleared his throat. “We started off with a misunderstanding that has long since been corrected.”

“Has it?” Song Lan asked. “Because he’s clearly missing the point of every one of your subtle courting attempts.”

“The Winter King is headed back towards his study,” Xingchen said, drawing everyone back to the matter at hand. 

Xichen started walking towards his desk. “Perhaps I should send another invitation. Just in case something did happen. Moira’s right, the dogs do love to scatter his papers. They have to spend most of their time in his office, you know. Poor things aren’t allowed to roam free.” Xichen paused. “Perhaps I should invite the dogs as well.”

“Oh,” Moira said with a shake of her head. “You don’t want to seem too eager, cousin. Give it a day. At the least.”

Xichen was eager, though. But a day. A single day? He could do that, of course. What was a single day in the life of an immortal sidhe?

“I’ll just compose a draft,” Xichen said as he headed towards his desk.

Song Lan gently stopped him with a powdery snowball to the face. 

To lesser kings, more concerned with their power than being a good person, it would’ve been a grave insult. To Xichen, who counted Song Lan as someone he could always trust to treat him like Xichen and not the Winter King, it was a cold, if pointed, reminder to breathe.

“I shall take that under advisement,” Xichen said as he wiped snow from his face. He looked down at his light, spring robes. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to change.”

“He’s going to write another letter,” Moira mumbled.

Xichen would not. Or perhaps he would, but not an invitation. Just a general letter to Jiang Cheng, with the little bit of freedom they were allowed. Xichen was a king and had to be mindful of what he put down in writing, even to Jiang Cheng. Private correspondence remained the source of so many scandals among Sidhe rulers. And yet writing to Jiang Cheng still meant that he got to devote pages to his favorite novels or art or inane things like the weather, the flowers, his brother’s ever-growing collection of rabbits. It wasn’t about land or trade negotiation. And while he did worry that he bore Jiang Cheng with some of his longer letters, Jiang Cheng had assured them that he enjoyed them all.

It made Xichen wish they could’ve known each other as normal lovers and soulmates, rather than the Winter King and his Chosen. 

A loud splash in the small lake besides his quarters drew his attention. He gasped when he spotted a face in the water.

A woman emerged, or at least the face of one, neither old nor young, but beautiful in the unattainable way that came to all Mer-folk. Her skin was a pleasing light blue hue and her eyes a shade of violet Xichen had come to associate with Lotus Pier.

“Are you the Winter King?” she asked in a heavily accented, ancient version of the Common Tongue. 

“I am,” he said.

She studied him for a moment. “You speak true?”

“Yes,” Xichen said as he knelt beside the lake’s edge.

The mermaid dipped her head back in thanks, dipping underwater before resurfacing again.

“I have a message from the Siren’s Son,” she said.

“Jiang Cheng?” he asked.

She smiled at him, her face turning youthful in its joy. “Yes, they were correct. We do like you for him. He has let you know the truth of him, or some of it.” She pulled a satchel from around her neck. “You may keep it all,” she said. “He crafted it just to transport this message.”

There was spellwork around the purple cloth. It smelled of Jiang Cheng and the material was soft, as if made from his own robes, but it was dry as a bone. A handy bit of magic for a wizard so connected to water.

“I feel like I must give you something in return for your journey,” Xichen said. “You are far from home.”

“I offered,” the mermaid said. “It is an honor to aid the Siren’s Son in his pursuit; to bring his voice to his mate. He already gifted me a song in gratitude.”

She hummed a soft tune and Xichen could imagine Jiang Cheng’s deep, smooth voice singing along to it. It soothed him and he felt calm for the first time in hours.

“Still,” he insisted.

She cast her eyes about and pointed at a patch of snowdrops. 

“I will take one of them,” she said.

Xichen nodded as he picked a handful, putting his energy into the ground to re-grow what he had taken and then again to preserve his gift in everlasting ice. 

“You are kind,” she said as she took the gift. “We approve.”

“Thank you,” he said before wishing her well. 

In the privacy of his quarters he was finally able to open the pouch. Inside was a letter, sealed with the symbol lotus blossom pressed into deep purple wax. It was covered in a sort of spellwork Xichen had never encountered before. His fingers pressed over the familiar image on the seal and the letter immediately unfolded in his lap. It was blank inside, but then, as Xichen touched the paper again, a burst of purple light overtook the pages. 

Xichen gasped as Jiang Cheng’s voice sounded in his room. 

“I am not always skilled with words,” Jiang Cheng’s voice told him. “And I felt that if I wrote a reply it would become so practiced and revised so many times that I would make you think it wasn’t even written by my hand. Xichen I am honored to accept your invitation to stay in your realm. I long to see the home that shall one day become mine as well. To learn of it and its people. To learn of you.” He sighed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that, perhaps it is too much, but I want to know you, everything about you, as the Winter King and as my soulmate. If you’ll still allow me such an honor, of course. The official reply should be there in the morning, but I couldn’t keep you waiting any longer. I know how restless I would be in your place and I hope you would feel the same.”

“I do,” Xichen said, heart full and pounding, smile wide as the purple light of the letter started to flicker. 

“I am eager to see you again,” Jiang Cheng said. “And I send my warmest regards to you, your family, and your realm.”

The light went out then and Xichen was sad the spell was done. He sighed as he picked the paper up again, only for the light to burst across the paper once more, only for Jiang Cheng’s voice to repeat. A message for him from his soulmate, forever captured.

“He is so clever,” Xichen said as he folded the paper, careful to keep his fingers to the outside and not the inside. 

The wax seal redid itself once the ends of the page met. Xichen carefully wrapped it back inside its purple cloth and cradled it to his chest. 

[justheretobreakthings]

Kings Over Aces - Chapter 2

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Word Count: 3,114 (Total Word Count: 6,290) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

The Voltron Coalition has an alliance in the works with the resource-rich planet of Yuipra, and it’s the paladins’ job to keep on the king’s good side while the deal is made. That shouldn’t shouldn’t be too great a challenge; after all, they’ve courted plenty of planets before for the sake of alliances.

Unfortunately, things are made much more complicated when the king takes a special interest in Keith.

Fic content warnings for attempted rape/non-con.

“I’m telling you, he wants me,” Lance said, for what was probably the dozenth time since breakfast.

Pidge rolled her eyes, stretching her leg out along the couch to kick Lance where he was seated on the opposite cushion without moving from where she’d comfortably settled with her tablet. The paladins were spending their downtime after training this morning in the lounge, all having claimed their usual spots to relax, but Lance harping on about last night’s dinner was making it even more difficult than usual - which was saying something, as the weirdly translated Altean books Keith tried to pass time with were hard enough to focus on anyway. “He does not ‘want’ you,” she said. “You think every person we ever meet at these coalition things ‘wants’ you, and how many times has that been the case?”

“Plenty of times,” Lance answered. “I’m not gonna be able to keep track exactly.”

“It’s sort of a numbers game by this point, isn’t it?” Hunk asked, tilting his head back from where he was seated cross-legged on the floor in front of the other two to join the conversation. “You flirt with basically every single person you find attractive - ”

“ - And your standards for that aren’t exactly sky-high,” said Pidge, “So you’ve probably hit on like five hundred people since we got shot out into space. Which would make your success rate - ”

“All right, I see where this math is going,” Lance groaned. “For your information, I do not flirt with nearly that many people.”

“Good point,” Pidge said. “Just winking and making finger guns probably doesn’t count. Or at least only counts as, like, half a flirt.”

“It’s not - you know what, whatever. We’re not talking about my overall track record, just last night. And that king was totally into me. Basically talked just to me the entire night. You saw, right, Keith?” He turned to Keith, who silently cursed his inability to turn invisible. “Back me up here.”

“Um,” Keith said. “Well, you certainly talked to him a lot.”

“I was replying to him, that’s how conversations work. But he was totally flirting with me, right?”

“Uh…”

Lance huffed and crossed his arms. “Okay, that doesn’t count for anything. Keith probably wouldn’t recognize flirting if his life depended on it.” Keith let out a little harrumph of indignation. Sure, that was true, but there was no need to just announce it like that.

“Nah, I’m gonna go ahead and take his testimony as gospel,” Pidge said. “Sorry, Lance. You bombed.”

“Need me to get Kaltenecker to make you some ice cream?” Hunk asked, reaching up to pat Lance on the leg.

“I’m like two seconds away from slapping all of you.”

“The bitter sting of rejection is such an ugly look on you,” Pidge said drily. A small beep sounded from her tablet, and a moment later, she sat up. “Allura just messaged. They’re getting an incoming signal from Yuipra, we’re probably gonna solidify alliance terms. Gotta go join ‘em in the bridge.”

Lance groaned. “Why do we all have to go? Shiro and Allura are in charge of all of that.”

“I dunno, to make a good impression?” Pidge stretched as she stood from the couch. “Besides, you should be excited. Get another chance to talk to the love of your life.”

“At no point did I ever say anything about him being the ‘love of my life’,” Lance said as he and Hunk reluctantly stood too. “All I said was that he wants me. Which I still maintain is one hundred percent true.”

“If you say so. You coming, Keith?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Keith said. He shut off his electric reader and dropped it onto the seat to come back to later before joining the others, shuffling in behind them for the short walk to the bridge.

When they arrived, joining Allura and Shiro on the deck, the holoscreen was already on and tuned to an image of King Olren, the arms of two of his ever-present guards just on the edges of the frame. The discussion was already in motion, but Olren paused mid-sentence as the door to the bridge slid open.

“Ah, the rest of your paladins have arrived, I see,” he said, smiling down at them as they took their places on the bridge. “It is a delight to see you all again.”

“You too, your majesty,” Hunk said.

Allura smiled as she looked back over her shoulder at the others. “King Olren was just telling us that he was quite impressed by our performance yesterday, as well as our engagement with his people at the banquet.”

“Quite so,” Olren said with a nod. “Your presence went over very well amongst my nobility. And, of course, I was just as enamored by Voltron as anyone in my court. Your knowledge and passion are obvious. Now, I’ve spent the morning reviewing the terms of our potential alliance with my advisors. Yuipra’s stance on interplanetary relations is perfectly in line with your current mission statement of resistance against the Galra empire and liberation of those under its control. However, I must confess slight apprehension over how the citizenry would respond to engaging in a conflict in which we are currently not directly involved. As your proposed terms are outlined right now, the use of our resources versus the coalition benefits that you would grant us in return seem rather unbalanced.”

“That’s only in the short term,” Shiro spoke up. “We may currently be thin on benefits, but that’s entirely due to past Galra occupation that we are working to wipe out. Already we’re seeing the signs of environmental improvements and economic growth from planets that have been liberated and are being helped by the Coalition now. The trade agreements and political relations we build now will yield positive growth over time, and in the long run it’ll more than offset the costs of your involvement.”

“And you have evidence to back your claims of long-term benefits?”

“I would be more than happy to send you any details about the Coalition’s fiscal plans and projections of resource growth that you need,” said Allura. “You will find that we have been nothing but meticulous.”

Olren nodded. “That would do nicely, Princess, if you would be so kind. I must admit, your confidence alone is quite the sales pitch.” Allura lifted her chin, a proud smile on her lips, and Olren grinned back. “The rapid creation and propagation of the Voltron coalition makes ever more sense. It’s certainly likely that Yuipra will have its part in it as you make history.”

“We thank you, your majesty,” Allura said.

“I am still not, however, quite ready yet to solidify an alliance with your coalition,” Olren continued, and Allura deflated. “Not due to problems with any stipulations we’ve laid out as yet, but because I like to know those with whom I ally on a more… personal level, you see. It is one thing to be able to ally with someone politically, but such bonds are far more meaningful, not to mention harder to break, when they are personalized to a nigh emotional level. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Allura paused a moment before answering, “Well - well, yes, of course. I completely understand where you are coming from.”

“Excellent. Now, I’ve gotten a bit of a chance to gain some familiarity during our banquet, but if Voltron would be so willing to indulge me, I really prefer to do so more privately. One-on-one, actually.”

“All right,” Allura said slowly. “So, erm, what, exactly, are you proposing?”

“Suppose I’ll get right down to it,” Olren said through a little breath of a laugh. “I wish to host an intimate dinner in my private dining room tomorrow evening. And I would like your red paladin to accompany me as my date.”

Lance cast the others a grin - a smirk that seemed to say, I told you so - before he stepped forward and bowed grandly. “Your majesty,” he said as he straightened up, “It would be an honor to - ”

“No, no, not him,” Olren said, waving a hand dismissively. “The red paladin.”

“I am the red - ” Lance started, before his face fell and his eyes widened. “Wait, do you mean - are you - are you talking about Keith?!” he spluttered, gesturing with his thumb toward Keith, who stood in stunned silence as all the eyes in the room spun toward him.

“Yes. Keith,” Olren said with a smile. “I do hope you will accept my invitation?”

“Uh - I - I - ” Keith stammered out.

“Is, ah, is that really necessary?” Shiro asked. “Voltron functions as a unit, you see, and there’s no need to have only one of us to dinner rather than the whole group.”

“If you function as a unit, then your red paladin’s character should reflect that of all of you,” Olren said. “You need not worry, really, over the effect on our potential alliance. I must admit, I’ve found myself quite taken with his disposition already. But you do understand why I may want to take the time to personally assure myself that we will be a good match, yes?”

“Understandable, yes,” Allura said. “I’m sure that we can arrange - ” She paused as she glanced back over her shoulder at Keith, whose knees were growing shaky and who had long since felt his face heating into a bright red.

Allura furrowed her brow and turned back toward Olren. “Could you please grant us a few doboshes to discuss our availability?” she asked. “We will be happy to resume this conversation shortly.”

“Of course,” Olren said. “I look forward to a call. And I must admit, I do expect to like what I hear. I’m not in the habit of taking ‘no’ for an answer.” He cast them all one last smile before his holoscreen went dark and then disappeared.

Allura let out a breath before turning around toward Keith. “Keith,” she said. “Are you ill?”

Keith blinked at her. “Am I… what?”

“You look ill.”

Slowly he shook his head. “No, I’m - I’m not sick.”

“Because if you have any sort of bug that the king might catch, that would certainly not reflect well, nor be ideal for you and your state of mind during a dinner. Or if something in their meal disagreed with you - ”

“It’s just, um - this is - he said.” Keith took a deep breath. “He said - he said he wanted me to be his date.”

“Yes?” Allura said. “And?”

“And, well, I, uh - I don’t - I don’t really have - ” Allura tilted her head, and Keith took a deep breath before finishing, “I don’t date.”

“Oh for the love of - ” Lance groaned. “Of course. Of course Mullet’s never been on a date before. We should’ve known.”

“Is that all?” Allura asked. “Keith, I’m sure it won’t be much of a problem. Everyone gets nervous the first time they go on a date. We could always go through some etiquette with you, some conversation starters. We’ll no doubt have to brief you on a number of courting customs anyway, seeing as nobility is rather more particular in how they go about it, but I’m certain that - ”

“No, look, that’s not it,” Keith interrupted. “It’s - it’s not that I haven’t dated. I mean, I, um, I haven’t, but it isn’t - it’s just that, I don’t date.”

“I’m… not sure I follow,” Allura said.

With a grunt of frustration, Keith brought a hand up to card his fingers through his hair as he searched for the words to explain it in a way she’d understand. “I just - I don’t do that, I - I don’t feel the things that people are supposed to feel when - when they’re on dates, like, the romance and all, they - they don’t - ”

“Hang on,” Pidge interrupted, lifting a hand and peering at him with narrowed eyes through her glasses. “Keith, are you aro?”

Keith felt his voice halt in his throat, and he crossed his arms and took a step back, ducking his head a little as he closed in on himself and avoided looking at his teammates’ faces. It wasn’t that he thought they’d react badly to it, or judge him for it - at least, he sure hoped they wouldn’t. It was just that this was personal, and he much would’ve preferred to come out when he was actually ready to, not just… like this.

But, of course, now that it was out there, it was out there. Not like there was any point in denying it. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Um, aroace, to be specific, but, uh, yeah. Yeah.”

He dared a glance up beneath his lashes. Pidge was nodding slowly in understanding, and Shiro was more or less expressionless - he’d already known, after all. The others all just appeared to be confused.

“I’m sorry, arrow?” Allura said. “Pidge, what is that?”

“Aro. Short for aromantic,” Pidge answered. “Means he doesn’t feel romantic attraction.”

“Wait, for real?” Lance said, his brow wrinkling and his eyes scanning Keith up and down as if looking for some sort of clue on his clothes to verify it.

“Yes, for real,” Keith snapped. “Why the fuck would I lie about something like that?”

Lance lifted his hands innocently. “Shit, man, I wasn’t accusing you of lying. Just, you know, processing the new information. Guess that kinda clears up some of the rumors that were going around the Garrison…”

For a moment Keith was about to demand some follow-up about these rumors, but decided to let it go for now. He’d overheard plenty of gossip about himself as a student on every other subject - whether he cheated on the sims and how he did it, how he got into the Garrison, his juvie history, his relationship to Shiro, his family. A couple rumors about his sexuality were a mere drop in the bucket. It wasn’t important now.

What was important was the matter at hand: the dinner date with King Olren. “Look, the point is, I don’t do the whole ‘dating’ thing. It’s - it’s not my thing. I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”

Allura crossed her arms, tapping her finger pensively against her elbow. “Well, what if we trained you on it?”

Keith frowned at her. “What?”

“On dating. I’m sure we’d be able to give you sufficient instruction to handle a single dinner date. If we trained you, do you think you’d be able to manage?”

Keith took a step back. “Allura, I told you, I don’t feel - ”

“I know, I understand. I’m not asking you to be attracted to him. I know you can’t control that. But I also know that this could be a very advantageous alliance for Voltron, and a date with you seems to be the deciding factor. Would it be at all possible for you to, er… fake it?”

“Fake it?” Keith repeated incredulously.

“Yeah, yeah, that could work,” Lance said, nodding. “I mean, that’s not exactly hard to pull off, right? I’ve faked my way through dates before. You know, I meet someone online, but when I show up to the restaurant for a date it turns out they’re a total weirdo, so I smile through the dinner and make small talk and just sorta, like, humor them. Let them have a nice evening then get the fuck outta there.”

“What, you can’t just be up front about not liking them?”

“It’s called manners, Mullet.”

“Look, I’m not going to - ”

“They do kind of have a point, Keith,” Shiro interrupted.

Keith turned to him, taken aback. If anyone knew how uncomfortable Keith was over the concept of dating, it would be Shiro. Keith had only even learned about aromanticism and asexuality because Shiro had explained them to him, back in their Galaxy Garrison days, and his surrogate brother had held his hand tightly through the process of coming out for the first time. So him saying that Allura and Lance ‘had a point’ about sending him on a date… it was unexpected, to say the very least. “Shiro?” he said. “You - you think I should…”

“Keith, I’m not saying you need to, uh, take it very far,” Shiro said slowly. “I know you’ve got your boundaries, and I respect them. It’s just, well, it isn’t as though Olren is asking for your hand in marriage or anything. All he’s requested is a dinner date. I realize that it wouldn’t be a comfortable experience, but one awkward evening in exchange for all the resources Yuipra can offer… It would be a shame to have to pass it up.”

“Exactly,” said Allura, giving Shiro a grateful nod. “There’s no need to make it a bigger deal than it is. One dinner date. That’s all.”

“I mean, Olren’s certainly not my type either,” Shiro said with a shrug. “But if it was me he’d asked after, well, I wouldn’t love it, but I’d take one for the team, you know?”

Something rolled in Keith’s stomach and he swallowed down a lump in his throat. That was true. Shiro would do this without hesitation. Hell, even if it had been a woman asking, which would definitely leave Shiro uncomfortable to all get out, he would take the fall. Because that’s what he does - he makes sacrifices for his team. That’s what a leader does. And Keith was the leader now.

One date, he repeated mentally. He could handle just one date, surely. For Voltron’s sake.

“All right,” he said, his voice coming out sounding quieter and dryer than he would have liked. “All right, I’ll, uh, I’ll do it. You can let him know.”

Allura let out a breath of relief and smiled at him. “Thank you, Keith. I’ll get a missive off to him at once, and we can start training.”

“You know what I still don’t understand?” Lance said as Allura turned away toward her podium.

“What?” asked Keith.

“This guy had a dinner with our whole team,” Lance said. “He was sitting at the same table as Shiro and Allura and, well, me… and he goes for Keith. I just don’t get it.”

“Lance,” Shiro said with a frown.

“Look, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. It’s not like he didn’t have options. He actually chose to thirst after the mullet. Out of everyone there. This was a conscious decision on his part.”

“Everyone has their own tastes.”

“It’s like if he’d gone to an art museum and decided that his favorite exhibit was the bathroom door.”

“That’s enough, Lance,” Shiro scolded.

Lance shook his head. “I dunno, man. Just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Keith could only shrug in reply. It didn’t make any sense to him either.

[air-bison-yip-yip]

I have a huge zoenne headcanon/prompt if you'd like but you know how Noora in OG dressed up as the log lady for halloween and she's a twin peaks fan. I headcanon Zoe as a DC fangirl bc she dressed like Harley and her and Senne totally bicker about Marvel vs DC.

Thank youuuu! This one was  fun to write. Hopefully, my interpretation is enjoyable for you as well! (also posted on ao3)

<3 <3 <3

Zoë walked into her room, heading straight for the wardrobe. She noticed Senne on his computer with his headphones on and shot him a quick smile before turning to her clothes. She was going through everything trying to find something that could conceivably pass as either Wonder Woman or Harley Quinn. Spending the least amount of money for Luca’s costume party seemed smart. She always seemed to find drinks spilled on her at some point in the night either because of Jana’s dancing or Luca’s deep desire to play beer pong.

She’s towards the last of her clothes when she hears Senne shift on the bed. She glances up from her cross-legged position on the floor. Senne raises his eyebrows at her looking at the mass of clothes strewn across the once clean bedroom floor.

“Zoë, what are you doing?” Senne asked. He was more amused than annoyed at the mess,  thankfully. Who knew Zoë had so many clothes? She was going to have to Marie Kondo her life soon, especially when Senne finally unpacked the last of his boxes still sitting in the corner.

“I’m going through my clothes,” Zoë told him matter of factly as if it wasn’t completely obvious to Senne what she was doing. Zoë held up a red shirt she had owned for a few years. She could make something vaguely Wonder Woman themed with this. She could raid Milan’s closet too. He would almost assuredly have something gold. She had forgotten Senne was still watching her until he spoke again.

“Why are you going through your clothes?” Senne asked, carefully moving on the bed to get closer to her without disrupting her clothing bomb.

“I need a costume for Luca’s party, and I am determined to use something I already have. I don’t need to spend money on an outfit that will undoubtedly get dirty.” Zoë replied carefully placing the redshirt off to the side so she wouldn’t lose track of it as she continued going over the last of her clothes.

“What costume are you thinking?” Senne asked.

“Mmmm, either Harley Quinn or Wonder Woman?” Zoë threw a few shirts back into the reject pile.

“Why don’t you go as someone cooler, like Captain Marvel or Wanda Maximoff?”

Zoë’s head snapped up, and her focus turned to Senne completely.

“Excuse me?” Zoë questioned. Senne raised his eyebrows slightly and gave her a shrug.

“You might find something for Pepper Potts too,” Senne told her while pointing at the white long trench jackets that Zoë loved.

“Those are all Marvel ladies. What do you mean ‘cooler’?” Zoë’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, I mean. DC isn’t exactly the best is it?”

“Because…” Zoë trailed off waiting for Senne to explain or admit he was just teasing her.

“I don’t know. I feel like DC is all toxic relationships and darkness. It isn’t fun.” Senne said. Zoë let the statement hang in the air for a second. Waiting to see if Senne could detect the irony of his opinion. Apparently, though, Senne was not picking up on the absolute ridiculousness of his statement.

“Yeah,” Zoë deadpanned, “who’d want to deal with that.”

“Seriously. I mean, Wonder Woman is pretty badass, I’ll grant you--” Senne started before Zoë mumbled a ‘how kind,’ under her breath. “But literally DC is just a whole bunch of rich angsty white guys, and it’s pretty boring.”

Zoë doesn’t think she has ever been so close to an out of body experience before. But for a solid five seconds, she would swear her soul was trying to determine if it needed to leave her body and process. Because the absolute irony of Senne de Smet, who was currently surrounded by Tesla keys, two Mac computers, the newest android phone, and his special high-quality headphones, would discuss how annoying rich angsty white guys were was almost too much for Zoë to handle.

Senne, however, seemed oblivious. He now had his phone pulled out and ignored the entirety of Zoë’s emotional journey. Zoë took a deep breathe to center herself.

“Senne,” she began, getting his attention, “you know I love you more than anything,” Senne’s face turned warm and gooey at her declaration, and only the profound incredulity of Senne’s earlier statement kept Zoë on task rather than moving to kiss his dimples. “YOU are a rich, white, angsty dude.” Zoë finished.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why DC is so boring.” Senne replied nonchalantly.

Zoë closed her eyes and took another centering breath. She slowed her speech to make sure that she and Senne were indeed on the same page. “So you’re saying that you’re over DC because it’s just a whole bunch of angsty rich white men who have toxic relationships and don’t invest in lamps--like you.”

“Zoë, yes. I’m over it. Marvel has more fun and variety anyways. Like I said.” Senne looked over at her questioningly.

“Okay, well that makes sense,” Zoë told him, “because when I think of Senne de Smet, I think of a fun, diverse kind of guy,” she finished barely able to conceal her smile and giggles.

Senne, for his part, finally seemed to catch on that Zoë was making fun of him.

“You know what, Zoë Loockx?” He started before lunging off the bed to pick her up. He tossed her back on the bed and was tickling her in earnest. “See. I’m the definition of fun,” Senne told her while he kept tickling her.

“Senne. Senne. Senne. Stop,” Zoë rushed out in between her laughter. Slowly after a few minutes, Senne stopped and gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, her nose, and her lips while Zoë’s breathing returned to normal.

“Let’s just agree, for the good of our relationship, that you like Marvel and I like DC, and we won’t shit on the other one?” She told him amusement, coloring her voice. As Zoë said that she groaned into the nearest pillow. Senne, lying next to her, poked her in confusion.

“I can’t believe I love DC, and you are the epitome of adolescent batman. I hate this.” Zoë ground out into the pillow. Senne smiled fondly at her.

“And here I love fun and powerful women. See--our tastes make perfect sense after all.” Senne told her.

Zoë rolled her eyes at him, but her smile stayed in place even after she got up and began to dig through her clothes some time later.