#hé nearly didn’t make it

[addsalwayssick]

For the drabble

60 and 61 please

so i’m making these separate bc i’m not quite sure how to combine them, but if you want me to try and figure it out js lmk and i will !! xx (one will be jegulus and one will be wolfstar but if you had another ship in mind lmk and i’ll rewrite xx)

60- ‘before you murder me, hear me out’

Regulus didn’t think he would be in this situation. It was dark, and though he should have, he wasn’t sleeping. He was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He’d heard his window start to open, and he immediately shot up from his bed and looked at the window. Regulus, only being 14 years old, knew he was going to get murdered that night. He watched painfully, stuck in his spot from his bed as the window slowly slid open and a man started climbing through. The man hopped in, freezing as he saw Regulus. The man didn’t rush him, like Regulus expected. He felt his confusion grow, snapping on a lamp beside his bed. He felt himself blush as he saw James standing there. Had he come there for him?

“James?” Regulus asked, getting up.

“Regulus. Hi. Before you murder me, hear me out.” James said.

Regulus felt his heart break a little, knowing he was about to hear his excuse, how it was an accident. “Go on.”

“So i was going to Sirius’s room-“ James started, and Regulus immediately scowled. “And then I decided I didn’t want to go to Sirius’s room, because i missed you.”

Regulus felt himself go pink again. “Missed me? Are you sure you just don’t feel bad because you climbed into my room by accident?”

James grinned sheepishly. “I’ve been climbing into Sirius’s window since I was 9. I wanted to see you.”

Regulus smiled, a warmth in his heart growing. He walked to James, pressing his lips to James’s. James didn’t kiss back at first, in shock, but eventually started to.

61- “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

Remus didn’t want to get married. He knew it was a lost cause to argue with his parents. They weren’t really his parents, only the people who adopted him after his own parents died at the age of 14. He missed them dearly.

So here he sat in his bedroom with Sirius Black next to him. He’d had a crush on Sirius since the day he met him. He knew Sirius didn’t feel the same way. It didn’t matter, as he would be getting married to a woman named Marlene Mckinnon. Remus liked Marlene, he did, just not like that. Marlene was kind and sarcastic, and nearly as gay as Remus was. He knew she was in love with a woman named Dorcas Meadowes, just as she knew he was in love with Sirius.

“Are you excited to get married?” Sirius asked quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Remus scoffed at him, letting his head fall back on his bed frame. “Fat chance.”

Sirius smiled at him a bit, lighting a cigarette. Remus’s adopted parents were out, the only reason Sirius was even there. They didn’t like Sirius much, refusing to let him into their home. Remus did it behind their backs, and he did most everything.

Sirius, after smoking the cigarette, let his head rest on Remus’s shoulder. “Will things change when you’re married?”

Remus sighed. “I hope not.” Remus was only 17, and was to be married on his 18th birthday.

He hoped to get a divorce from Marlene quickly, rather than staying married. His birthday was in a week, and it was his last week as a ‘free man’. He and Marlene had decided to be allowed to date whoever they wanted, because neither of them felt any love other than friendship for each other.

Remus felt his phone ring, picking it up and putting it to his ear. “Remus Lupin.” His adopted mother growled into his ear.

“Clarisse.” Hé answered.

“I know you’re with that Sirius boy. I won’t be having any of it. We’ve moved your wedding to this afternoon. I expect you here in 30 minutes in your tux. If you’re not, there will be consequences. That boy is not invited.” She said, hanging up the phone.

Remus’s eyes widened in panic. Sirius, who could also hear her words also started to panic. They turned to each other as Remus felt tears slipping down his cheeks. Sirius wiped each of them off, offering to drive him to the venue.

Remus nodded. He felt numb and cold as they drove. He started to get out of the car before he felt a warm hand on his arm. He turned back, expecting an apologetic look from Sirius, but instead seeing a panicked look. Sirius was breathing hard, tears in his eyes. “Sirius?”

“Remus, I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.” He said, desperately clutching Remus’s arm.

Remus sputtered. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry I just-“

Remus leaned in and kissed him, getting back in the car. He shut the door behind him. “Drive.” Remus said. Remus texted Marlene, telling her what happened. She texted back in full support. [Fiance ;(: Period! You go king. I’ll try and delay our parents. I’ll make an excuse for you xx! Get as far away as you can.]

And he did.

He did end up getting married, nearly 2 years later. But this time it was to Sirius.

[sayuricorner]

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System X Transformers Prime prompt idea: Cybertronian!Original Shen Qingqiu in TFP

Warning 1: English isn't my first language so sorry if it's confusing !😅

Warning 2 : This prompt idea content references to child slavery, child abuse, sexual assault, suicide, depression, abuse, toxic relationships, mental issues due to isolation, sexual references, "papapa" moments(depend on whoever who use this prompt if they want sexual moments or not) ect...

Hello everybody! 😄

Here's a prompt idea I got about a Scum Villains Self Saving System X Transformers Prime crossover which is based on this idea:

"what if after his death at the end of PIDW Original Shen Qīngqiū transmigrated in the TFP universe as a seeker?"

If you want to use this AU go ahead! Just credite/tag me in return please! ^^

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Before we begin here’s some precisions:

-In this prompt sparklings, younglings(aka babies and young cybertronians) and reproduction by interfacing are a thing.

-This prompt take place during the time Starscream was “neutral”.

-Original Shen Qingqiu will present himself as Shen Jiu.

-Shen Jiu's cybertronian form is a seeker.

Now here's the prompt:

So after his death at the end of "Proud Immortal Demon Way", Shen Qingqiu came back to life much to his confusion but hé realised he wasn't in his world.

To make things even wierder, Shen Qingqiu was brough back to life as a sort of bizarre "metal golem thing"? With metallic wings on his back.

The confusion and nearly mental breakdown passed, Shen Qingqiu decided to search for informations about where he was and what he was while staying hidden, not wanting to get unwanted attention.

His searches and explorations lead him to learn he was in a world, or at least a land, populated by humans with a very advanced technology and who were talking a language unknown to him.

He also find out there was other "metalic golems" like him but Shen Qingqiu being the mistrustful man(now bot) he is decided to not approached them.

One day he found what’s looked like an abandonned ship and decided to go in it to see if he could find anything which could be useful only to fall on one of the “metal golems” or rather the metal golem fall on him, literally.

The “metal golem” demanded who was sending him and what he wanted but quickly calmed when realizing that Shen Qingqiu didn’t know what he was speaking about.

The metal golem present himself as “Starscream” and tried to know who Shen Qingqiu was and where he came from only for a mistrustful Shen Qingqiu to present himself as “Shen Jiu”.

The “wierd desination” confused Starscream as this sounded like a “fleshling desination” and was even more confused when learning that Shen Jiu didn’t know he was a seeker nor doens’t seem to know what was a cybertronian.

The situation was very awkward, Starscream being completely confused by this very attractive, maybe even more than Knockout, but strange Cybertronian who doesn’t seem to even know he is a Cybertronian.

However Shen Jiu’s apparition was still an opportunity for Starscream so he decided to propose an alliance to the strange Seeker:

He proposed they became associates, Shen Jiu help Starscream to survive and to find energeon and in return Starscream help Shen Jiu to learn everything he need to know to be a Cybertronian and a Seeker.

Very wary and suspiscious, Shen Jiu end up accepting, not having really much a choice and deciding that Starscream was his best option.

So Shen Jiu’s and Starscream’s alliance begin with Shen Jiu helping Starscream to survive without his T-cog and Starscream telling Shen Jiu everything he knew about Cybertron, the war ect... And teaching Shen Jiu how to be a Cybertronian.

However, things were about to became very messy when they got unwillingly involved in the TFP S2-S3 events.

Prompt details:

-Cybertronian!Shen Jiu

-Seeker!Shen Jiu

-Neutral!Shen Jiu

-Neutral!Starscream

-Alliance Starscream-Shen Jiu

-Starscream redemption

-Shen Jiu been extremely beautifull by cybertronian standarts.(If Shen Jiu is ridiculously beautifull as a human then there’s no way he isn’t going to be ridiculously beautifull as a cybertronian as well!)

-Shen Jiu and Starscream been very untrustful toward each other at the begenin of their alliace but still stayed associates as they have no other options.

-Shen Jiu’s and Starscream’s growing trust toward each other being a very slow burn.

-The Autobots and the Decepticons wanting to recruit Starcream and Shen Jiu on their own side after having saw Shen Jiu’s abilities.

-Megatron being very fascinated by Shen Jiu ‘cause he remind him of Starscream back when he forst met the Seeker on Cybertron and want to make Shen Jiu summit to him just like he managed to make Starscream summit to him.

-TFP canon divergence: Thanks to his alliance with Shen Jiu, Starscream didn’t go back to the Decepticons and stayed neutral.

-Soundwave being the one stealing the omega keys from the Autobots instead of Starscream.

-Shen Jiu and Starscream becoming Amica Endura at one point.

-Shen Jiu’s slave mark as a cybertronian been the remaining of a slave coding in his system which have been forcibly removed.

-Shen Jiu not being very impressed by the Autobots, finding their “holier than you” attitude annoying.

-Badass Shen Jiu.

-Wheeljack hitting on Shen Jiu, luch to the latter’s dismay.

-Protective/possessive Starscream

-Protective/possessive Shen Jiu

-Starscream and the Autobots finding about Shen Jiu’s past at one point and being horrified for what Shen Jiu have gone through.

-When Predaking get in the picture, Shen Jiu convinced Starscream to not mess with the predacon to avoid another “little beast” catastrophe.

-Other SVSSS characters like Liu Qingge also transmigrating in the TFP world as cybertronians after they died in PIDW.

-Original Luo deciding to ditch his empire and his harem to go into another world to find his “kind shizun” by using Xin Mo and found himself in the TFP world as a young predacon.

-Shen Jiu’s and Starscream’s abusive/toxic past relationships being discussed.

-Shen Jiu and Starscream having a lot of issues.

-Ships: You can do the ship you want, just no MegatronXStarscream please! ^^ 

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

Could u maybe do one with damiano where they Get into A fight and He says something very mean but it need with fluff i hope u understood. Thanks :)

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 1769

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 (𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬- 𝐨𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 ����𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐡)

your day wasn't the best when you came home — your head hurt, the day was freezing cold from the moment you peeled the blanket off of yourself, and the hours in the office felt like thrice longer than usual. your boyfriend, damiano couldn't take you out at your office, since his studio was in the opposite direction than your office, but you got in late too because he couldn't find something he needed. you were a little bit nervous, but you just sushed your thoughts and tried to forget the words damiano and you said to each other.

"why can't you just leave the things in their original place? is this that hard to note?"

"be glad that i washed it out."

"be glad that i washed it out…"

damiano mimicked your voice, you hoped that the tone of his voice was only annoyed and derisive because he was tired.

thus, your mom called you in lunch just to call you about that there's no room in the house for you because your other cousins need place until the end of christmas –you couldn't stop the bitter taste in on your tongue, maybe that's why you couldn't hide the disappointment and gloom in your tone.

"but… where gonna i sleep then?"

"sweetheart, you can rent out a hotel room for a few days, don't you?"

"but mom, that's so much money!"

"did i mention that we would be so, so happy if we could meet your boyfriend? what was his name, danny?"

could your mother for only once not change the topic of the talk, if that began to change uncomfortable for her?

"it's damiano, mom."

"damiano, yes. so, is it alright for you?"

i don't have another option, and you know this too too well.

"yes. bye, mom."

you didn't wait for her "goodbye, sweetheart", slamming the red button on your phone.

and now, at the end of this ironically 'happy' and 'succesful' day, you stood in your living room, with your phone in your hand, pressing together your lips as damiano said out those words. you hoped that when you get home, you can take a long shower or run a bath while damiano sits on the edge of the tub, or even bathing with you, talking about this shitty day while you and damiano hate the world together, sharing a bottle of champagne and painting each other's nails –but he too decided to go against you.

"i think you shouldn't worry that much about that."

"what?"

"come on babe, it's just your mom. she's always dramatic, you shouldn't pull it on yourself that hard."

"no, i think you don't understand my problem, she literally said that her daughter don't have a place, a bed in the house she grew up during fuckint christmas!"

"shake it off, y/n. we're gonna figure it out."

"we're gonna figure it out, what does that mean to you, huh? christmas is approaching, day by day, the hotels are sure as hell full, even the airbnb-homes, but yeah, you're right, we have all the time in the world to figure it out!" you acted with your hand, more sarcastic than ever.

"what are saying now, that is my fault that you got a late call?"

you sighed, feeling your soul heavier than ever –the pound in your head spreaded down into your chest, giving the sour feeling of crying.

"no, i'm just telling you that you could be a little bit more helpful and understanding… it's about my family, my mom, mia madre as you used to say! how can't you understand this?"

"i am not understanding enough? how can you say this?"

don't do this, dami, don't manipulate my feelings, at least not you –don't make me more miserable, please.

"i say this because i can only talk with your about this! i trust you only with my problems, my problematic mother and my other shitty things, and now you just say that i should calm down on a problem that means bigger to me than ever?"

"well it's not my problem to have a useless mother!"

it was enough. far enough for you to snap.

"than you know what?",

grabbing your purse and coat,

"fuck you!" with that, you slammed the door and stepped out of the house. you didn't know where to go on the year's coldest day –you only knew that you don't want to stay near anybody right now. maybe renting out a hotel room wasn't a that-bad idea. or going to vic, and block damiano and your mother for the next two days.

trying to call vic, you didn't even noticed that your bump into somebody, pulling together your coat on yourself, you decided to go afoot to the next bus stop, maybe damiano runs after you, but right now you couldn't face him, after everything he said.

well, it's not my problem to have a useless mother. did he think this the whole time, the whole time when you bragged about your family? that that's only your pathetic problem? you couldn't see the screen of your phone from hé blur of your tears –they immediately broke down on your neck and cheek, then freezing in the cold wind, only leaving a chilly, uncomfortable feeling. the snow crashed through the clouds, everything were white and so, so cold, the wind blew in between your coat and sweatshirt –your teeth crashed together as you pleaded to the sky and vic to pick up that phone. your stomach grumbled,

"it's almost half ten, what do you want?"

"vic, oh my god! i'm so glad, can i ask you a little favour?"

"what the fuck, is is it you, y/n? i thought damiano called me this late, he would lose his phone and use yours, the dumbass. what's the problem?"

"can i sleep at you?"

"of cour- why?"

"please, i'll tell you everything, but…" you wailed suddenly, you were surprised too, not to mention vic.

"sweet jesus, was that you? grab a cab and come here, fast! i'm calling damiano."

"no, no please!"

vic didn't respond.

"come here safe, okay?"

"okay. bye, vic."

the line cut off, leaving you there in the winding snow –more five or six streets? you still pondered on damiano's words between tears and shivers, while trying to hug yourself as warmly as you could.

you barely reached the second corner when you heard a humming of a car. can't be a taxi, but then… who's on the streets this late, in this tempestuous weather? excluding me, you thought, could laugh but in a soaked coat, sweater and socks you only wanted to survive until vic's.

turning your aching neck, at first you thought you hallucinate –seeing damiano's black car was nearly a dream, a mirage. does hypothermia kicks in that soon?

as the car approached you, it stopped beside you.

"do you really gonna walk to vic like this? did you call a cab?"

you ignored damiano, walking towards, your bag almost slipped out of your hand.

"let me help you cara mia, i'm sorry. can we talk about this in the car? it's warm in here, too."

stubbornly, with shaking hands, you wiped off the wet locks from your face. hearing a quiet murmur, something like 'okay, that's enough', the door of the car opened, inviting you to sit on the passenger's seat. you stopped the marching, looking at damiano with crossed arms.

"i'm not going anywhere until you get in this car. you can walk to vic, but i'm gonna follow you, and i'm gonna sit in here until you collect enough peace to talk with me."

it warmed your heart a little bit, but the harsh words sung in the back of your head –reluctantly, but slowly you got in the car. damiano didn't hesitate a moment to turn on the child safety lock system as you closed the door. you huffed.

"is it really neccessary?" you asked quietly.

"i don't want you to change your mind when we get back home "he said. "do you need anything? a blanket, a coffee? a tea? i'm texting thomas to boil some water."

"thomas... how? and why?"

"he came for some butter, but you bumped into him, thomo was surprised even that you're that…" –searching for the right words, it was hard and awkward for each of you.

"listen, y/n, i–"

"no, dami, i was just upset and–"

"no, wait! it's my time to apologize. because in the past time, i got carried away. i said things and i said them without thinking about how hurtful they can be. i should be glad, so fucking gratefuo that i have a girlfriend, a lover like you, a lover who nurtures me, who search my lost things even when i can't find them because i'm such a clumsy ass, a lover who shares her deepest secrets and problems with me. a lover who trusts me so much, who accepts my little habits… i know i can't take back the things i said about your mother and your problems, but the least i can do is make you forget about it, and support you with it. can you", damiano said as he covered your cold, tender hands with his big, soft ones. "y/n y/l/n, amore della mia vita, the love of my life, accept my apology about everything i said and did?"

you couldn't stop the blushing, your whole chest warmed up at his words, clinging to his hands.

"yes, i absolutely can. i'm sorry i yelled at you, it was just a shitty day, and my family… well, that's another story."

damiano leaned closer to you, touching your jaw, tucked a cold strand of hair behind your ear, spreading comfort towards your cheeks and eyebrows.

"even with soaked clothes, pale skin and damp hair, you're still the prettiest, angelic thing i've seen in my life, mia dolce bambina."

you didn't need anything to reach up to his lips, yearning to get as much as from his warmth as possible –damiano strokes the back of your head and neck, played with the moist locks.

after the little kissing session, damiano stroked your hand, taking off your coat, giving you his instead.

"let's go home, okay?"

"okay. i love you, damiano."

"i love you more than you could ever think, little angel."

as the two of you reached home, damiano huffed.

"you know, i'm a little bit disappointed in your mother too."

you pulled up your eyebrows, the corner of your lips curling up slowly.

"really? and why?"

"we can't make out in your old bedroom, that could be quite an extra christmas event, don't you think?"

"damiano!!"

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨-𝐦å𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

[x1hehaoyu]

STATS

Full Name: 何浩宇 Hé Hàoyǔ

何 meaning ‘carry the load’

浩宇 meaning ‘vast universe’

Rank: 中尉 Zhong wei / 1st Lieutenant

Age: 40

Birthday: Nov. 2, 2068

Nationality: Chinese (People’s Republic)

Gender: Male

Preferred Pronoun(s): He/him

Sexuality: Gay

Religion: Atheist, with some Daoist beliefs

Languages: Xiang/Changshanese (native dialect)

Fluent in: Mandarin, Russian, Arabic

Conversational in: Urdu, Vietnamese, Korean, Japanese, Persian

RELATIONSHIPS

Birth Order: Youngest of four

Parents: 孙霞 Sūn Xiá (mother) and 何俊杰 Hé Jùnjié (father)

Siblings: Three sisters –

玉尔 Yu’ér, the eldest

丝雨 Sīyǔ, the middle

语汐 Yǔxī, the youngest

Family: 何国华 Hé Guóhuá, paternal grandfather and primary caretaker growing up

Significant Other(s): N/A

Children: N/A

PHYSICAL TRAITS

Eye Color(s): Brown

Hair Color(s): Black

Height: 183cm

Body Build: Lean, tough muscle

Notable Physical Traits: Covered in beauty marks, scars on his shoulders and across his back, healed gunshot wound below his ribcage

SKILLS

Compassion: 8/10

Empathy: 9/10

Creativity: 4/10

Mental Flexibility: 7/10

Passion/Motivation: 6/10

Education: 3/10

Stamina: 10/10

Physical Strength: 10/10

Battle Skill: 9/10

Initiative: 10/10

Restraint: 8/10

Agility: 7/10

Strategy: 8/10

Teamwork: 7/10

Musical-Rhythmic Intelligence: 4/10

Visual-Spatial Intelligence: 8/10

Verbal-Linguistic Intelligence: 5/10

Logical-Mathematical Intelligence: 6/10

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence: 10/10

Interpersonal Intelligence: 6/10

Intrapersonal Intelligence: 2/10

Existential Intelligence: 7/10

Naturalistic Intelligence: 9/10

HEADCANONS

A set of values or a moral compass can’t be defined by a single event, a parable, a fragment of a memory. But one story Haoyu’s grandfather told him in passing, when he was a little boy, lives in the back of his mind, in every decision he makes.

They were in a hospital waiting room, Haoyu cradling the arm he fractured, trying to ride his big sister’s bike. They sat in hard chairs opposite a glass-paned wall, ooking down at a busy road, cyclists cutting through throngs of pedestrians with delivery bags on their backs, hitting up against the flowerbed-curbs of their carless city. His grandfather had a misty, far-off look in his eyes – the kind he always got when he was thinking about a long, long time ago. Haoyu asked him what he was thinking about; he remembers the way his grandfather smiled down at him, how his eyes crinkled in the corners. He was thinking about the days after Yuan Longping died.

Haoyu was seven, and had just learned about Yuan Longping in one of his Young Pioneer classes. He proudly rattled back Yuan’s biography – famous Chinese agronomist, Hunan Province’s Vice Chairman for nearly three decades, Father of Hybrid Rice. He developed rice that could feed an extra 70 million people a year. Over his lifetime, it helped feed one-fifth of the world’s population. Even until the day he died, he never stopped trying to fight world hunger. Very good, his yéye told him, mist making way for a hint of humour. He died in the very hospital they were waiting in. And many, many years ago, when his yéye was a little boy, no older than him, he was down in that promenade, back when there were still cars on the street. There were no cars that day, paths only clearing from ambulances through the mourning masses, handing out flowers and bowls of rice outside the hospital.

Haoyu asked his yéye why so many of them were out there mourning. Did they all know him? Was he a famous celebrity? Sort of, his yéye replied. He was a national hero, and a local one. They all knew his face, learned about him in school, just like Haoyu did. But they weren’t just mourning for Yuan Longping. They were weeping for every brother and sister, every mother and father, every daughter and son they didn’t have to mourn, because of the work he did. It was a celebration of life, of his life and every life he’d saved, every belly his rice filled. And for each of the tens of thousands of people who mourned him that day in Changsha, all across China, was another ten million people whose life he’d saved, who would never know his name.

He scrunched up his nose, and shook his little head. It seemed an unimaginable disrespect to him. He asked how his yéye could say that so calmly, such an undeserving end to Yuan Longping’s memory. His grandfather told him, he thinks, the moral to this whole story: not knowing is a very precious luxury, one that is very rare and has a high cost. But it’s worth it, for people to live without the memory of fearing starvation, to never know the feeling of a gnawing, days-old hunger. They hadn’t had that in China, his yéye told him, for decades even before he was born. Very few people had the chance to give that gift to the world – but, as far as his yéye was concerned, it was the greatest honour one could achieve, to give it.

His yéye was one of those people. An engineer, who helped hundreds of cities all over the world introduce the ‘Marshy City’ flood management-water reclamation system; first to Bangladesh, then to Mexico City, and on, and on, and on. It would have been ad infinitum, if he’d had his wish. But funding dried up for this kind of project, as the priority became building desalination plants, a necessary but extremely limited stopgap. His yéye had opposed China’s participation in building them, and was ostracized for a time in the Party. By the time they changed course, he’d retired, already caring for Haoyu’s eldest sister. So he faded into obscurity, a footnote in history. His family and friends mourned when he died, but not the whole nation, and certainly not the world. It, too, was a celebration of life. Haoyu’s yéye lived to be 101. You could see a procession of red making its way through the city, all the people who his life touched directly. He cried as he witnessed his grandfather’s cremation, and he knew he would miss him for the rest of his life, but his heart wasn’t heavy. It couldn’t be. It was lifted up by all the hearts that didn’t skip a beat, didn’t ache at all, who’d never know of his grandfather’s death but whose life went on thanks to him.

He always wondered if he could be the special type of person to lead a life like that, to die like that. Soaring through space, he’s less sure than ever.

Haoyu’s parents came home when he was ten. They were strangers to him at first. His sisters remembered them a little bit more – Yu’er, the eldest, remembered them the most. She was seven when they left. Siyu was five, and Yuxi was three. His yéye tried to make it easier on all them, telling them stories, putting them on video calls together, and it did help, but there were difficulties in adjusting that he couldn’t do anything about. There was a distance between them that would take a long, long time to close. Haoyu wanted to close that gap, to grow close to his parents, much more than his sisters did – they were older, they did so much of their growing up without them. They had already processed the loss of their parents, had experienced the grief, had integrated it into themselves in a way Haoyu never had to. For Haoyu, on the other hand, he had never lost his parents. The man who raised him, his yéye, was still standing beside him, and that made it easy for him to integrate them in.

It became a lot harder to try with his parents after his yéye died. It wasn’t their fault, of course, he was a very old man, and died happy, surrounded by his family. But Haoyu moved out of his yéye’s apartment, and into a larger one assigned to their full, proper family unit. It wasn’t as though he thought his parents took him away from his grandfather, or wanted to replace him. He didn’t resent not knowing them, not being as close to them as he was to the man who raised him. Even at twelve years old, he knew it wasn’t… reasonable. Holding anger at his parents for leaving him wasn’t reasonable, wasn’t rational. Not when he knew why they had to go. He told himself, over and over, those first few weeks in that new bed, that he had no right to be angry at anyone. It would be selfish for him to resent innocent people, innocent victims of terrible climate disasters, for ‘taking his parents away’. It would be selfish of him to hold his parents’ sacrifice against them, when they were out there, saving the lives of so many good people, people who deserved to live just as much as he did. It wasn’t reasonable. Feelings rarely are, though, least of all in a twelve year old boy.

He learned to process it in the only way he could, without reaching outwards, without seeking help. He buried any traitorous feelings, anything that felt selfish or unreasonable, rationalized it away as so far beyond his control or influence that it wasn’t worth worrying about. In times of crisis, emotions had to be set aside – very convenient when the world he was growing up in seemed to be tumbling deeper and deeper into unending crisis. As he grew up, plodding onwards into the future, desperate to just grow up and start serving his real purpose, he grew colder, closed-off, guarded. He wrapped himself up to protect his tender heart, vulnerable and ready to bleed, tortured by the world’s suffering. If he allowed his grief for humanity to swallow him, he wouldn’t be able to help anyone.

When he was seventeen, Haoyu took the entrance exams for university. All of his older sisters had scored well, gotten into top-tier univerisities. He was never as academically talented as they were, but he was a hard worker, dedicated, with clear goals in mind. He wanted to be an engineer, like his father and grandfather. He wanted to get into the PLA’s Engineering Corps, and save lives like they did, and from where he was standing, the best way to do it was following in their footsteps as directly as he could. He lived to serve, after all. But you don’t get to choose your assignments, nor do you get to choose your limitations, and Haoyu just wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t smart enough, not to compete with the brightest minds in all of China – nearly two billion people, he didn’t stand a chance. But his score devastated him. It felt like all his dreams were crushed, that he didn’t have a future. He wouldn’t be able to do nearly enough, not without the kind of education and training he had planned for. His parents had never seen him in such a depressed state, not even after his yéye died. It broke their hearts – especially his mother’s. She saw a bright, intelligent young man, who so desperately wanted to serve his people. He reminded her of the best cadets that came up under her, and she had to do something to ensure his potential wasn’t wasted. So she pulled some strings with her connections in the government, called in every old favour she had, and got him into the second-best military academy in the country. It wasn’t what he was hoping for, but it was much better than anything he could’ve gotten himself, and it was the best she could offer him without raising any of his suspicions on the nature of his admission. When he got the letter in the mail, he was overjoyed. It was the happiest his parents had ever seen him, such a drastic departure from his emotional state just days prior. He could never know he didn’t do it himself.

He struggled terribly, trying to adjust to the academy. He wasn’t prepared, and knew it the moment he set foot on campus. But by some miracle, he had gotten this opportunity, and wasn’t planning on wasting it. So he worked harder than anyone to prove himself worthwhile. He got up earlier, pushed himself harder, went to bed later, and did it again, and again, and again, until he graduated top of his class. Even when he started, it was evident that he wouldn’t be doing any kind of engineering, or physics, or even logistics. He didn’t have the mind for that. But he shone, working with his fellow cadets. His dedication to service – or at least his dogged persistence – provided inspiration and motivation for his peers. Whenever he noticed someone slipping behind – and he was always the first to notice – he worked double-time to bring them up to speed, without letting his own duties fall to the wayside. It garnered him a lot of support; it was known across the academy that, despite his intimidating demeanour, anyone could ask Cadet Hé for help, and he’d do all he could to help them.

He graduated third in his class – very good, considering he wasn’t qualified to be in that class in the first place. He started his enlistment right after graduation, only taking the time to go home and tend to his grandfather’s grave in-between, desperate to get started on his work. Haoyu took to service like a duck to water. Most of their deployments, regardless of branch, had to do with climate response and resource management. He spent too many years playing rent-a-cop for caravans of water trucks, driving through endless deserts across the Asian continent, or on construction sites halfway across the world, guarding precious materials from desperate thieves, never wanting to fire a shot. It didn’t feel like he was helping anyone, but he did it anyways, because those were his orders – and he had to realize that sometimes his orders came first. His job came first. Even when he didn’t like it. If anything, it was especially true when he didn’t like it – it was the truest test of his loyalty to command. In-between these hired gun assignments, he found himself trekking through the last remaining rainforests, through dried up canyons and unimaginable dust storms, delivering supplies or paving roads for caravans of refugees. That was brutal work, a lot harder than sitting in a truck waiting for someone to try and climb some fence, but it was so much more rewarding, he responded better. He worked harder, when he could feel there were lives on the line, and his superiors took notice.

A decade into his career, Haoyu was assigned to military intelligence – specifically as a Chinese liaison to the UEMIDA Anti-Water Trafficking Task Force. The water black market had ballooned in previous decades, and was starting to account for major, catastrophic losses to the shared global water supply. It was a high-stakes position, of utmost importance, with an ability to help others far beyond anything he’d done before – he was a good hired gun, but he was even better at this.

It helped, how close he was to his unit. The task force was made up of soldiers from every corner of the world, but soldiers are soldiers are soldiers, and Haoyu knew just how to get along with them, as much as they knew how to get along with them. It was hard work, challenging and diverse, unravelling money laundering schemes and searching through endless shipping manifests, trying to string together a picture of the trade on a conspiracy board that would rival the most devoted paranoiac’s work. He was on this task force for years, eventually commanding his unit, taking lead on raids of agua barons’ estates, re-patriating their ill-gotten treasures. Haoyu found himself taking a quiet satisfaction in that part – it wouldn’t undo the harm they caused, nothing could, but at the very least, they wouldn’t get to enjoy it.

Such high level work brought danger, though. Haoyu was neither idealistic, nor naive, and had an understanding of corruption, how it operated on every level. He’d come face-to-face with it time and again in the AWTTF; usually in the form of crooked guards, logistics managers, border guards, all turning blind eyes or pocketing bribes. Sometimes it ran deep, and there were entire veins he had to dig out. But there were very few times he encountered corruption that ran higher than he was able to deal with. Not because it didn’t exist, but he learned it was often too well-buried, or too well-integrated for him to penetrate – and, only once, because he’d be signing his death warrant if he even tried.

He’ll never forget that day. They’d spent months chasing down this Turkish agua baron, selling glacial run-off to Germany, shipped to illegal Ethiopian coffee plantations to provide authentic coffee, a nearly unobtainable luxury, to Europe’s elite. Liquid gold for anyone who got their paws on the water throughout the transaction. This particular scheme had been almost impossible to unravel, and he’d had to fight like hell for approval to do the raid in the first place, but he’d finally gotten it. He’ll never forget those luscious, emerald-green fields of grass. Not astroturf, real grass. Dewy from the sprinklers that’d been running until they’d arrived, helicopter leaving deep claw marks in the front lawn. He’ll never forget the satisfaction he felt when he saw the baron pull a gun on him, how the trigger felt under his finger as he sent his target sprawling, syrupy-red blood pooling on the putting green.

There are things from that day that he must forget. The feeling of cold, clammy skin as he searched for a pulse. The sinking feeling as his eyes rose above the baron, and met the eyes of the Chancellor of the UEG, sipping Turkish coffee, leaning on the back of the golf cart. He averted his eyes as soon as he realized, pointed at the dewy, sticky grass beneath him. He didn’t make a move to acknowledge them, he didn’t offer a salute, completely disregarded procedure. .He didn’t mention the Chancellor’s presence in his report. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t suicidal. He knew the score – enough to know when to leave well enough alone.

(That doesn’t mean he didn’t think about it. Consider his options. He considered an officers’ coup, gestured at it to his best friend in the unit – who told him, quite bluntly, that if he said anything like that again in her presence she would be forced to arrest him on charges of treason. Going to the media was a non-starter; even if they did ran it, there was no way they could protect his anonymity as a whistleblower. Under the UEG, he had no shelter. He slaved over the details, considered every possibility. There were none. He was out of options. It was a familiar feeling.)

He kept his head down after that, and put in for a transfer a few months later. He’d been hoping to return home to China, maybe get a teaching post at his alma mater if he was lucky. But that wasn’t what happened. Haoyu suspected it was a twisted kind of reward, a thank-you note from the Chancellor themself for his discretion. He was transferred to the Dasshutsu Project. It was a reward, and a punishment. A way to get rid of him – permanently, if the track record was to be trusted. So even after the Chancellor had finished their term, their legacy would be secure. And he would back to sitting around in a very fancy kind of truck, guarding very expensive things from space rocks with a very big gun.

It was later explained to him that he was, actually, an ideal candidate for the role. He was an expert survivalist, spent years building refugee camps and remote research labs in the harshest conditions on Earth, was an expert marksman with more field experience than more soldiers in a mostly-peaceful Earth, was a long-serving soldier with unquestionable dedication in service of humanity. And, as far as rent-a-cops go, he was no dummy. This was where he’d always been headed, his handlers assured him, even if he didn’t know it. Like a good soldier, Haoyu decided to go ahead and believe them. He threw himself into his training wholeheartedly – he wouldn’t be as smart as the bookworms on the mission with him, but that wouldn’t stop him from being a damn good astronaut.

He believes he’s meant to be on this mission, but looking down at his beloved Earth from space, he can’t help but think he’s abandoning his mission. That there’s nothing out there for them, not really – even if there is somewhere to go, the suffering masses won’t be on the first ships. He’d rather be helping all the people who’d inevitably refuse to leave, or would be left behind when the last ships take off, not enough money or connections to make the list. At the same time, though, something about the vast expanse of space is… freeing. For the first time in a long time, it feels like he might have options. Not yet, but they don’t feel far away. Haoyu is going to do what a soldier does: use his elements to his advantage. He is going to use his lughead-camoflauge to hide his power, so he can bide his time, and find the right opportunity. He isn’t sure what that means yet. Maybe, when all the facts present themselves, it’ll be carrying out his mission faithfully. It might be something else. He might die out here, in space, virtually alone, but he’s going to make his life count. He’ll do whatever he can to stop the suffering.

[justafanwarrior]

** Prompt : Marinette has a snow dragon soulmark and no idea who it could be. Toshiro Hitsugaya has a ladybug soulmark and knows about Marinette, but she can’t see him until something happens to her.**

As long as she could remember Marinette always had four soulmarks, a blue snake around her left ankle, a red dragon around the right ear, a red bug with  a chinese symbol behind on her left wrist and finally a snow dragon around her waist with its head resting on her heart. She new it wasn’t commune but she loved each of them deeply. She grew up wondering about their identities, creating clothes inspired by them.

However her soulmarks were also different, when she felt happy the wings of the ladybug would start flapping, when she was nervous the snake would feel like if it was trying to be wrapped around her even more to comfort her, when she was upset she could hear the tiny dragon around her ear hissing in anger. Finally, when she was scared, the snow dragon would move, he moved around her in a protective embrace. Her soulmarks were different, but it wasn’t bad, it was all she could ever hope for.

She never had a lot of friends beside Kim who she grew up with because their mothers were close friends. He was her big brother always protecting her even when she didn’t need it. She was ecstatic when he met his soulmate, a very smart boy named Max, it didn't stop her from threatening the boy if hé ever dared hurting her brother. Though she was also sad when he stopped hanging out with her, but she decided to smile because her brother had met his other half.

Time had passed, she became LadyBug and met her first soulmate, her kwami. Tikki explained that sometimes miraculous wielder were soulmates with their kwami, proving that they are a perfect match, and often their others soulmates were other miraculous wielder. She was sad during a moment that neither Adrien nor Chat Noir were her soulmate.

She never been as happy than the day she met Kagami. Her protective red dragon. It was hard at first, Kagami didn’t liked her at all. But they tried, and they grew closer. They even been in a relationship during a moment, a pretty long moment, but they broke up after three wonderful years. They would be best friends instead maybe sister as time would pass.

It’s not long after meeting her fierce dragon that she met her calm snake. He was the brother of a classmate, Luka was a very talented musician. They seemed to link immediatly, they loved each other too, soon he joined her relationship with Kagami. When they broke up he ended with the japonese, Marinette was the only one leaving this relationship. She loved them but was searching for something else, though when they hang out it usually ends on a date.

Marinette loved her soulmates, they always been there for her. They were here when she needed backup and Chat was missing, they were here to comfort her after the loss of her mentor, they were here when Lila turned her whole class against her, they saved her when Lila made Alya ‘accidentally’ triped her in the stairs. The dark-haired girl didn’t know what happened exactly, only that she woke up at Kagami crying on her chest and Luka screaming at the class with tears in his eyes.

Since that day, she was able to see ghosts. She freaked out when she woke up in the morning to see a girl in a spotted armor, black hair and a scar on her mouth behind her. Turned out she was Joan of Arc, a former LadyBug, each day a different former wielder would be there. And boy, wasn’t she trilled to see THE Hua Mulan behind her girlfriend, she was her hero her whole life !

She was 17 when she finally met her fourth and last soulmate. They were in a schooltrip in the town of Karakura in Japon, she was happy to be fluent thanks to Kagami whose mother refused to be in a relationship with someone who won’t at least learn their culture and language. Beside Kagami herself leaded the trip no matter how much Lila would complain because  ‘She was not even part of the school’.

They visited ‘Karakura High School’ with Orihime Inoue, who presented them to her class. Marinette particulary liked her friends Sado ‘Chad’ Yasutora and Ichigo Kurosaki, though Uryu Ishida and Tatsuki Arisawa  were also nice. Even if she had to nearly break the arm of a girl named Chizuru Honsho who tried to touch her, she ran really fast once she saw the anger on the Tsurugi girl whose reputation followed her.

Everything was going well until Lila started talking, like always. She started to insult their culture while just faking not knowing that it was an insult. She was driving the spotted hero crazy and her ghost of the day, an amazon named Hippolytia, wouldn’t stop giving her means to kill the girl.

Sadly, for the italian girl, the class they were meeting weren’t fools and stopped listening to her once they understood the only thing that came from her mouth were lies.

The designer was happy, she was having a great time, and then the door opened pretty violently. She prepared herself for an attack but then forced herself to calm, it was not Paris, she was not a hero here. It was just another girl, black short hair, pretty small, not as small as she was herself but still, there was a few people behind her, a boy with red hair, a woman with orange hair and a really big chest, and finally a short boy with white hair and beautiful turquoise eyes. She hold her breath a moment at the sight, for some reason her heart missed a beat and decided that he would take his time to recover.

Marinette couldn’t help but notice that he was not wearing the uniform as were the people with him except the black-haired girl, no, he was wearing what Kagami called a Haori, he also had a katana on his back, now that she paid attention, so were the others.

She stared at them during a moment until Lila made fun of her.

‘‘What are you looking at Marinette there’s nothing here but if you are searching for intellect you should look after me.’’ The italian girl snorted, making the half chinese girl realizing that they were ghosts.

Some of the others laughed as well, Kim looked utterly uncomfortable but said nothing. The blue-eyed girl sent him a hurt and disppointed look, which he looked away. Coward. The liar thought she was smart to talk in french then the japonese class wouldn’t understand. Too bad for her once again, this class has been chose specifically because they studied french as well. And from the anger in the faces of the friends she made, they DID understood.

Kagami and Ichigo stepped up to defend me, but it was my turn, there wasn’t any Hawkmoth to akumatised her in case of reveal here, Adrien couldn’t make me stop with his ‘kicked-puppy look’. A bloodthirsty grin grew on me, and my dear storm dragon understood my intention since she took out her phone to record the showdown.

‘‘Aww, poor Lila she hadn’t realized yet that without her very dear boss to save her by akumatisation, I will not let her step on me. Now where shall I start ?’’ She said in a voice as sweet as poison. ‘‘How will I destroy this little kingdom of yours ?’’

The sausage girl took a step back in fear, ah, finally understanding comes at her. Marinette was not someone you wanted as an enemy. Said girl’s smirk grew when she felt Tikki trying to hide a laugh in her purse, nice she might be, but she also spent milleniums with Plagg, she knew how to make a great revenge, she knew how to cause Chaos. And for now, the anger she kept in her during years was all concentrated on one Rossi girl who dared hurt HER chosen, HER soulmate, She won’t let this go easily and will enjoy each second of her fall.

Plagg hide a smile from Adrien's bag, the boy could be an idiot but he was a good Chat, the only reason why he kept his miraculous, but at this moment, the god of destruction had to keep ears open, a revenge from his sugarcube and her chosen was always worth it, after all last time it happened, it caused more destruction than when he destroyed Atlantis.

In the corner of her eyes, the wielder of the miraculous of ladybug could see the white-haired boy looking at her with interest.

‘‘So this is my soulmate, she finally let her rage showing her the way to follow.’’ He let a chuckle escape his lips before smirking, he will enjoy this ‘‘A true avenging angel.’’.

The only thing he was not expecting was when she turned her head to look at him in the eyes, like if she could see him, but she couldn’t, only the dead could see each others, shinigami, quincy, hollows or simply ghost, Kurosaki was just an exception. Even a wielder of the miraculous couldn’t, this fact being proved by the confuse look on the other soulmate of LadyBug.

The girl only smiled at her, before turning back to the girl who dared insulting her. He knew what was happening in her life, he just had to wait for her as long as he needed to. He could be patient after all how couldn’t he be with Matsumoto as his second.

Toshiro Hitsugaya, captain of the tenth division of the soul society, watched amused as his soulmate destroyed each lie, each word that ever came form the mouth of her bully. But it wasn’t enough and soon after she turned her hurtful but no less truthful words to her other classmates, leaving them in the verge of tears. Oh, but she hadn’t finish, finally she turned to her childhood friends. The wielder of Hyorinmaru raised an hairbrow, sincerly curious, knowing that the girl was truly fond of the half asian boy.

‘’You know Kim, I always been happy that you found your soulmate in Max, he always been  able to bring you back on earth when you were too far. I was hurt when you refused to hang out with me, but I understood that he was more important, I really did. But I was dumb to think that despite the fact that we stopped being like we used to, you would still think of me like you did. Because you never stopped to be my dear big brother in my eyes but I can see that it was not shared. After all didn’t you promised that you would always protect me from those who want to hurt me.’’ She started talking louder when he tried to interrupt her. ‘‘Didn’t you promised to be there for me when i met my soulmates like I was for you when you met yours ?’’

He opened his mouth to defend himself but was interrupt by a loud snort from the girl wearing glasses.

‘‘You hadn’t met your soulmate Mari you would have told me beside stop using plurial, nobody can have more than one soulmate, and if you did you would have told me as your bestie.’’ Alya if he remembered correctly spit.

The blond girl with the sunglasses started laughing when the other finished talking.

‘‘ Oh you’ve got to be kidding me Cesaire ! Why would Dupain-Cheng tell you ? You’ve been worst to her than I ever been and I tried to steal her design and put it on her what could’ve ruin her whole career and bullied her during years. And you know why I started bullying her ? It was because she had four soulmates everybody at school knew that. How far did you fallen to think that she thinks about you as a friend after all you have done ? The only ones she supports in this class is the tomatoe boy and myself, because we apologized long ago.’’ Mocked the former wielder of the bee.

The day ended well for Marinette, she had a weight off her shoulders now that she said  what she thought to the class and could even enjoy the rest of the time with her new friends. That didn’t stop her either to notice that nobody saw the people in haori except for the orange head and the short girl that she learned was named Rukia Kuchiki. Or to notice that the boy with turquoise eyes looked at her the whole time. The reminder made her blush slightly what Hippolytia saw and then started to tease the newest ladybug about.

The evening came and Kagami brought her to a date for the ‘good old time’ she said. But really Mari was too fond of her to say no, and she also needed a good time with her fierce dragon before they leaved High School.

In the way back to the hotel she felt like she had somewhere else to be and leaved Kagami after a kiss on her cheek. She walked down the alley following her instinct. Finally she fell on a sight that highly reminded her of some of the worse akumas back in Paris. Once again she wanted to transform but this was not her work, beside, there was already a group of people taking care of it and she heard it.

‘‘Daiguren Hyorinmaru !’’ Screamed the boy with white hair from earlier.

Her eyes widened at the sight of a dragon made of ice, she realized then the reason why her own snow dragon started getting warmer this morning. She had met her last soulmate and didn’t even aknowledged it, though he seemed to know who she was. Finally she took the decision to wait the end of the fight to talk to him, that wouldn’t end well if he was the kind ‘stab first, ask later’.

She watched mesmerized by the way he and the people she recognized as his fellows fought. That was nothing like Kagami fought with her own katana but at the same time, it was oddly familiar.

Finally the fight ended, and she made them aknowledged her presence by a cough. And finally she spoke her first words to her fourth soulmate.

‘‘To be honest I never thought you would be some ghost but I’m still very happy to meet you, Just in case you don’t already know, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Merry met dear soulmate.’’

So this was my try for a prompt adressed to @musicfeedsmysoul12  I hope the one who asked will be happy, it was not what wanted to do at start but I like it. English is not my native language so i won’t say no to constructive criticism ! Plus, it’s been a very long time since the last time I saw/read Bleach.

I forgot I did this tbh...

[thisartemisnevermisses]

Suburban Life 8/-

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: angst, fluff, death, drama, comforting, sad reader, slow burn.

Summary: Steve had his daily run every morning. While running through the streets he noticeds a house with it’s lights on. A woman is dancing to the music, while making breakfast. Two childeren join her and they start eating. Steve is fasinated with the life of this little family and even stops to withniss this suburbane life every morning during his run. Feeling the need to settle down and the one question remaining Where is the man beloning tot this family?

A/N: ohoh...there’s going to be a rough patch..let’s see how we get out of this one. 

Chapter 08: Accepting Change

“I'm sorry, that was out off line”, Steve pulls back, a blush creeping upon his face. “It’s okay, it was a nice kiss”, you say softly, smiling at your hands, “Steve..I..-“

" I think I should go", interrupting you, looking guiltriden and even a little frightened. “You don't have to..please don't feel guilty or out off line. I don't know about you, but I feel attracted to you. There’s something that pulls me towards you. I think I’m entitled too, I’ve been a widow for 3 years, gives me the right to move on, right?" you look questioningly at Steve seeing an insecure look in his face, makes your heart drop. Thinking that the feelings aren't mutually, you see the concern in his eyes, “Is something wrong Steve?”

"Its just that..my work. It’s dangerous...I'm away for unknown time...not being able to contact you...You can’t know what.." Steve stumbles, you start laughing, he looks suprised at you.

"Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Steve, uhmmm...your overthinking things. Sweetie, I know who you are, I know the hazard your work brings. So don't freak out..Lets just take it step by step and get to know each other", shrugging your shoulders.

"At least I think you like me, listening at you rambling about..", making eye contact, seeing the insecurity in his eyes."I.. need to think about..I don't want to make you worry or make the kids worry about my wellbeing.."Steve mumbles.

"Steve, you're way ahead of yourself..I know what your trying to do..But can you actually give me a good reason why we shouldn't try this..Isobel, and I think Alex too, already figured out we like each other. She even said I should try it, giving me the okay", you smile at Steve, seeing that your words aren’t affecting him. It seems to make him doubt this even more.

“Don't be afriad of hurting us, or leaving us behind, we will manage..You're trying to be responsible, think with your head, but need to start thinking with your heart.. Steve, it’s alot and you don't want to betray mine nor your heart, but is worrying about that fair to your heart", taking his hands, you look him in the eyes, “Go home and think about this..I will wait for your answer, either way, you're most welcome in our home", squeezing his hands affirmation, seeing his still worried expression, he’s in conflict with himself and you can’t do a thing about it.

You stand up and walk towards the door. Steve looks at you, not knowing what to say. He wants to be with you, his whole body longs for you. He doesn't want you and your kids to go through something samilair when a mission goes wrong. It hurts him, just thinking about it. “Come here, Captain”, motioning for him to give you a hug, engolving you in a tight hug. Resting your head against his beating heart, you sigh and look up to him, “Steve, don’t overthink it, okay” you kiss him on his cheek, lingering for a moment by his lips, swallowing your thought away, you bit him goodnight. Hoping you would see him tomorrow. Walking into your bedroom, you can’t seem to stop smiling. You guess that Steve feels the same way, but is scared about his line of work and your or your kids reaction. He doesn’t want you to get hurt again. He has a loving heart, but shouldn’t worry so much. Thinking that way, kept him from making friends and finding love. You would talk with about that tomorrow. Your last thought before falling asleep was about Steve and how it would feel if he lay by your side. Waking up, you didn’t want to get up. You had the most beautiful and may you at little steamy dream. You rather wanted to stay in bed and linger in that dream a little. A blush open your cheeks, thinking about the scene before you woke up. The teenage girl in you squealed and made you feel embarrassed. Deciding that chores didn’t do them self, you stand up with a heavy sigh. Looking at the clock, you smile, within an hour or less you would see him again.

Once downstairs, you start your morning routine. Cheerful humming to the music on the radio, you ask yourself when you would hear that knock on your door and if you should make pancakes?

“Morning mommy, did you sleep well?” Alex greets you giving you the brightest smile ever. “Yes little buggy, why’d you ask..” you eye your youngone suspicious, “Oh, just asking mommy.” he smiles again. When Isobel is downstairs, she walks in and out of the kitchen. It look like she is searching for something. Coming back into the kitchen she finally greets you, “Morning..where’s Steve? It’s 8, even if it’s saturday, he normally would be here”, she looked a little panicked.

Looking at the clock, you notice the time and start to worry. He would be here by 6:30, that meant he was an hour and a half late. It was not typical for him. You start to doubt yourself and wonder if it was your conversation last night, that made him think otherwise. Did you scare him of? The radio interrupts your thoughts.

“We interrupt the show for a newsflash. This morning we got the news that the Avengers know as Captain America, Scarlet Witch and Falcon are missing. They were on their way to Peru when their plane went off the radar. It is unknown what had happened to the Avengers. As far as we know, there hasn't been radiocontact since last nights. Please look out for any kind of information and keep listening for updates. If you have information please contact with the following number....” That was the reason he wasn't here, went on a mission last night, not being able to tell you. Now he or rather they were missing. He would be alright, right? Nothing to worry about, right? "Mommy is Steve alright, he's missing right?" Alex looks at you, "I don't know little bug." you kneel infront of him and give him a hug. You feel Isobel's arm around you. Could your family make it through this?

 ---------------Time Skip---------------

Standing in the kitchen, you clean the dishes while listening to the radio. There’s still no news about the missing Avengers and you pas worrying. For nearly 3 weeks they’re missing in Peru. The first week you were calm and confident, as days started turning in to weeks you gruw worried and felt anxiety for Steve. What had happened, were they still alive, was one of them wounded or even worse captured.

Your mind starts racing again, just like it had the last week, mostly at night. You were sleep deprived and functioning on coffee and adrenaline. Isobel helped you as good as she could and even Alex was sweet and didn’t pick fights with his sister. You noticed that they were worried too, but didn’t dare to admit it to you, seeing your state.

How’d you love to see him, tell him how you felt. That missing him made you realise it wasn’t just a crush, your were in love. You wanted to take his worries away, but this situation made you realise, why he was so worried. You hadn’t slept for hours and had time enough to think about being in a relation with Captain America. If he would give in to his feelings, only if, it could mean you had more of these nights. Question was, were you ready for that? It would be foolish to think you would get used to it. It was something that had to be discussed, maybe even set rules and boundaries, not only for you, but for your kids to. Realising what this did to your family, it also made you realise how you missed him. More then you would like to admit. You missed his warm arms around you, his sweet and soft voice, the blush upon his cheeks when he was embarrassed and those lips, that kiss, if that was just a taste of what was to come.

Washing the glass for the umpteenth time, when a knock on your door, made you check in to reality. You blink a few times and hear a second knock. Alex and Isobel come out of the living room, you motion them to stay there, not knowing who’s at the door. You look through the window and see a star-spangled uniform, it looks tattered and even bloodstained. Could it be Steve? It couldn’t, right? Looking around for any kind of weapon, you choose an umbrella, slightly laughing to yourself and your choice.

 Opening the door, you are greeted by an tired, blood and mud stained, Steve. When you lock eyes with him he gives you the brightest smile he can give in his state. “Steve..” you choke out, smiling back at him, tears starting to run down your cheeks. You steps towards you and picks you up in a tight hug. Fully embracing you, his arms around your waist and shoulders, breathing in your sent, when you hug him back he wimps in pain.

Pulling back from the hug, you look him in the eyes, cup his face, “Hé, welcome home.” you caress his cheek, while he nods silently. “See, this is what I was talking about..” he says with a raspy voice, trying to reinforce his point. You shuckle a little and shake your head.  

“Lets talk about this later”, you pressing your head against his, sighed, breathing in his sent, his cologne, mixed with iron, earth and sweat. “Alex, Isobel, he’s here.” Within a second there are thundering footsteps, two pair of eyes looking if it’s  really him. When they realise it’s Steve, they jump in his arms. “Hello, you two, carefull”, Steve smiles and kneels to hugg them tight.

“Hey, I missed you guys he smiles, the tears in his eyes finally falling, he held them in for so long. Seeing those two and you back, was the most wonderful gift he got, after getting back from that shithole. “euw, you stink.” Alex eclaims, taking his distance from Steve, while pinching his nose. Laughing at the reaction off Alex you motion for Steve to come further, “Come on, Captain, time for a shower. I think I have some clothes from my husband lying around.” You pull Steve inside, seeing something move on his back. Turning him around you see his duffle bag, hang on his shoulder. “uhm, I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to see all of you, as soon as I got out of the plain.” he looks apologetic at you.

“No really! didn’t figure that one out. It’s the second door on the right.” Rolling your eyes at him, he jump up the first two flight of stairs, forgetting his injury for a moment. “Captain, wait a minute.” Steve turns around, seeing you approach him, going up three stairs, you’re at the same level as him. “You’re hungry?” asking innocently, his eyes darken and a grin appears on his face. “Not, tonight doll.” He smiles, blushing from his own forward reaction and you staring wide eyed at him, “I didn’t mean that!” you exclaim, making Steve turn crimson. “uhm,, yeah, in that case, I would kill for a sandwich.” He tries to gain his composure. “Okay, one sandwich coming up.” You smile, giving him a wink. Walking down the stairs, he takes your hand and turns you in one swift moment. “Don’t be so cheeky, doll”, he says hoars against your lips, then kisses you. The kiss is just long enough to know that it isn’t a just a kiss, it’s full off emotions and an unspoken promisse.

“Go clean yourself up, there’s a first aid kit under the sink. I will make something to eat. When the kids are in bed we can talk.” You smile soft. “Yes, ma’m”, he salutes and runs shuckling upstairs. This felt good, it felt like home. It was something he came to realise during his survival in the rainforest. For days they walked around, trying to hide for a group of mercenaries, Wanda and Sam wounded, Wanda having panic attacks and him feeling useless, taking as much of the night shifts as he could. He went with days without sleep, thinking of you and your little family. Thinking of how he couldn’t let you know where he was, not telling you how he really felt, how he regretted not taking that kiss tot he next level. When everyone was asleep, he would feel miserable, blaming himself for leaving you alone, yet again. It was thinking of you and those two energyballs of kids, that kept him going those weeks. When they finally reached a little village, they were able to make contact. He felt so relieved, knowing he would get to go home, to you and promised himself he would not chicken out, once you two were alone. He would come clean about his feelings for you.

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter ten

Excerpt - “He wanted her, needed her close, not ready to let her go just yet. The fact that they couldn’t act on this in public was torture. He nuzzled her neck and almost immediately felt her respond lovingly. Clearly, he was not alone in this agony.”

If you don’t like smut, skip part 4. If you do like smut, read part 4 twice and let me know... too much? *polishes halo* Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Ten Edinburgh – day two

1. As if the cruel temptation of having him so near but not being able to act upon impulses wasn’t enough… Charlotte effectively had to see Tom disappear into a cocoon; going into hiding behind a polished and flawless facade when professional acquaintances heartily greeted him, congratulating him on his latest project and promptly questioning his future plans. 

It was oddly conflicting and confusing to Charlotte, seeing as nearly 10 minutes ago her lips had been on his, and his on hers. Amorously so. He had taken her hand in his again and with a boyish grin laid eyes on her once more before guiding her out into the hallway of the venue. Ready to go somewhere, anywhere, where they could just ‘be’. 

However this was Edinburgh, and this wàs the Fringe Festival. And being an actor, it really wasn’t that unlikely that Tom would run into a familiar face sooner or later. Just like it wasn’t that abnormal that Charlotte would run into some newly-familiarized faces; professionals she’d gotten acquainted with during the latest seminars. It wasn’t ideal, but then again life never is.

Charlotte looked down at her hand in surprise when someone clasped her fingers around a chilled glass of champagne. “Cheers love!”, someone addressed her. Like a fish in the water Tom smiled, accepted the drink offered to him and returned the toast. For Charlotte, however, the world was suddenly turning a bit too fast.

Nobody knew who Charlotte was, nor did they really care for it. Or so it seemed. Although Tom did kindly introduce her to those who wanted to hear. And she was kindly included into a conversation she found had no reason to be in, with people she didn’t know and a fidgety but polite Tom by her side. 

Such is the juxtaposition of a renowned actor, she mused as she quickly scanned his features while sipping the chilled flute of champagne. Still, it dizzied her a bit and while she cared for both Toms, she longed for the private one to reveal himself again. Preferably soon.

2. Tom was well aware of the duality of the situation and searched for Charlotte around him, wanting to share both his regret and his apologies. He wanted, no he found he needed to make absolutely clear that there was no foul play on his behalf. That there could be no misunderstanding that this was most definitely not what he had in mind. 

Their kiss had left him reeling as well. Because this kiss was real, it felt ‘true’. Spontaneous, yet well-intended. Not at all like the drunken mishap last month, but a heartfelt surrender to whatever it was that had them pulling towards each other. It was all so ‘new’, both expected and unexpected. His heart was overjoyed, his mind enchanted and his body suddenly so impatiently hungry for her and her embrace, her arms, her hands, the scent of her sweet perfume, the softness of her warm lips onto his again, … Tom genuinely longed for nothing more than the world to stand still, granting him time and more privacy for the both of them than this place ever could offer. If only he could escape sooner… 

Finally settling his gaze onto her, he discovered Charlotte had bumped into some colleagues herself and was laughing heartily among and with them. She blended in so well. It only added to the guilt. 

His attention was turned back to his own conversation, where he nodded politely before sharing a laugh. Fuck. He was stuck already. Between professional and private life. Good lord Hiddleston, get yourself together. 

With a sigh, he resolutely finished his drink, hoping the director he was currently talking to would be equally understanding as he was eloquent. While this was a conversation he’d desperately longed for, the crowd they found themselves in was chaotic, happy and loud. It clouded his otherwise so precise attention. Or was that her doing? 

Tom dared to take his chance, and politely explained the eminent director he was, alas, otherwise engaged for the rest of the evening. And so Tom apologetically announced his early departure, but not before extending the amiable man an invitation to his performance the very next evening. With a gentle nod the director agreed, insisting they would ‘talk shop’ afterwards like the snazzy middle-aged man liked to call it. It was everything Tom could have hoped for and Tom thanked him heartily. 

He then subsequently tried reaching out to Charlotte discreetly, scraping his throat gently and brushing the back of his hand against hers, only to see her eyes flick back to him disclosing both her surprise and her warm friendliness. They exchanged a short smile, trying to reassure the other that they really were ‘alright’. 

Tom respectfully and humorously begged the group for their forgiveness on his intrusion but he hàd promised to offer a certain lady the Tour of Fringe… It clearly amused Charlotte who promptly bid her goodbyes to the group before joining him on his path. 

She playfully whispered into his ear that her colleagues had been asking her if she’d won a competition of some sort. Tom only chuckled in delight wondering what competition hé had won as they left the venue together, yet at a friendly distance. PR-wise picture perfect. You’re welcome, Luke. 

3. They managed to somehow maintain their distance as they strolled through the streets of Edinburgh that evening, setting their sights on all sorts of street performers. No hands were held anymore, but there was the odd brushing up against each other whenever or wherever possible. Not at all hard when walking amongst crowds. Charlotte bit her lip and glanced down to prevent herself from giggling out loud while Tom mischievously grinned and looked up the other way, trying to maintain his innocence. It was you basic silly teenager material but oh lord it felt so good. 

When Charlotte spotted one of the marching giants of the ‘Royal de Luxe’-company, she reached for his hand and wordlessly tugged Tom along. 

“I know this,” she finally told him while pointing up to the giant portraying a little girl; a gigantic puppet that was made to walk so smoothly by a dozen people. Strange, how the magic of the walking ‘puppet’ instantly made you overlook the enormous amount of people working those giants. 

“She’s looking for her uncle, the Diver. He lost his hand and ….” As Charlotte elaborated Tom stepped in closer behind her, his chest against her spine. He had to give to her, the sight was nothing short of spectacular. All spectators were in absolute awe, looking up at the performance in awe. Perfect. Tom felt at ease at the fact there were no eyes on him when looked towards Charlotte and sweetly kissed the croak of her neck while she was admiring the marching giants. A fleeting, tender imprint of his warm lips on her delicate skin. An affirmation of his fondness of her.   

He wanted her, needed her close, not ready to let her go just yet. The fact that they couldn’t act on this in public was torture. He nuzzled her neck and almost immediately felt her respond lovingly. Clearly, he was not alone in this agony. 

Upon seeing the giants passing them by, he swiftly led her away before anyone else could notice them. They moved through a mass of spectators, in the opposite direction no less, towards the labyrinth of Edinburgh’s wee, wonderful alleyways. Tom had scoundered these passages so many times before, he knew them like the back of his hand. And he knew they would allow them to climb the steps back to her hotel in privacy, secrecy even.  

Charlotte chuckled as she followed his fast pace. All the more thankful when they finally came to a halt in a small alleyway. Here there was room to move, room to breathe, room to look into his eyes again without reservation. 

“Better here,” he smiled, “no?”

“Much,” she agreed as she slid her hand into his awaiting one before climbing up the first steps, “as long as you know the way…” 

He assured her he did while leading her through a close and then up another alleyway which was even more breathtaking than the one before. And nearly deserted, except for that couple of tourists who were making their descent. Tom would clearly hear Charlotte holding her breath momentarily but he gladly turned to her, stepping her back onto a dark threshold where he wordlessly pulled her into a very longing kiss. Charlotte moaned in surprised delight, her fingers fisting the textile of his shirt into her eager hands, while his lips cleverly filled her in exactly how badly he had been wanting to kiss her within that last hour.  

She could hear the passing tourists chuckling at their foolish amorous display, however never any the wiser who in fact they had just crossed. And with renewed fervour at that discovery she gladly ran her hand from the nape of his neck up through his soft curls, before softly teasing her tongue over his upper lip. The alley may have been dimly light, but she could distinctly see - and feel - his lips turning into a delighted smile before they submitted to a very ravenous kiss.  

Good heavens.

All this skulking had Charlotte feeling like a hormonal teen again and she was very happy to discover she was not alone in this predicament. Finally breaking away from each other, they blissfully giggled to themselves as they stepped out of their confinement. She could feel his hand leaving his position in favour to delicately slide over her spine, before coming to rest on her hip where it nestled itself firmly. And Charlotte tenderly leaned into Tom for the rest if the hike, painfully aware he took the opportunity to kiss the temple of her head and murmuring “no more interruptions, I promise.”

Damn those fireflies…

4. He walked her to her hotel in silence. Again, at a safe distance. He wanted to make sure she would return safe, but got out a level below hers in the elevator. Always so discreet. Charlotte sighed and shook her head. What was she getting herself into? Denying anything was going in in public, yet making out it like teenagers on a curfew in endarkended passages. And now getting out a different floors in the hotel. It made her feel like a broken pendulum. Swinging from far left to the bare right one instant, and coming to a prompt full stop the next.

 This felt so strange, so fabricated. It did not feel as real as she would have imagined it to. She quietly wandered over to her hotel room, the silence only being broken by the beeping of the card slot as she opened the door. 

Walking inside she kicked of her shoes and proceeded to shut the curtains before idly collecting his paperback and the hardcover she’d gifted him. He would want to take this back with him, she pondered. 

Charlotte strode back across the room upon his knocking. She would be lying if she was to say that all of this was not what she wanted. Dear lord, how had she longed to be with him in privacy. Just the two of them. But now that they were here... her heart had started beating incessantly. 

“I erm - I got you your books,” she murmured as she ushered him inside. However she was hesitant to bring herself to look up into his eyes again. Both afraid of what her look might give away and equally afraid to find whatever was lingering in his eyes. So her vision remained caught on her hands and the books she offered to him, and his hands reaching out to accept it from her. His fingertips gently brushed against hers. 

“Charlotte,” a hoarse whisper while his nose brushed against her cheek. 

Her stomach makes a somersault.

“Charlotte,” he persisted. 

“I can’t look up,” she explained quietly, “because I’m afraid of what I might do… And it’s not what I usually do...”

“May I kiss you?”

She knew why he was asking her. He wants to be sure. He wants to be certain. Good heavens. Under closed eyes, she swallowed nervously once and then nods. 

He dipped his head slowly, brushing his lips against hers. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her slow and gently. Sensual. She could feel the hairs in the back of her neck rise up. He held her impossibly close and she swore she could feel herself melt away in his embrace. A subtle moan escaped her lips and the books unceremoniously fell to the floor. Her hands reach up to his neck where they hold on for dear life while his mouth claims hers. She stand on her toes, allowing him to press herself closer still and then finally meets his gaze.

“Hi,” she whispered. 

“Hi,” a lopsided smile.

“There you are again,” Charlotte smiled softly, running her fingers through his curls. 

“I can’t tell you how hard it was to walk the streets with you this evening, without being able to kiss you whenever I want to.”

Charlotte’s fingertips trailed to the side of his head and caressed his soft beard. 

“…to hold you,” he emphasized while his hands languidly roamed over her body, tracing every single curve, “…to touch you.” 

His mouth moved from below her ear, down to her neck where his warm lips brushed over her collarbone, peppering its course with gentle kisses. It lured a shiver from her and she was at a loss for words, feeling both hot and cold, both treasured and lonely. And a very large part of her felt as if she might starve if his lips wouldn’t claim hers again soon. 

“This had been the strangest evening,” he contemplated. 

Charlotte breathed out. “Tom,” she finally mustered. 

Her hand cupped his cheek and she relished how he leant down in her hand with closed eyes, like a young boy savouring the love bestowed upon him. She adored how he kissed the palm of her hand while watching her under lidded eyes.  

Oh lord knows how hard she’d been trying to keep her own composure but it just seemed to be too much now. They had been circling each other, wanting each other, all night long. And he, on his part, felt he could just devour her with need alone.

“Kiss me again,” a pause, “please?”

And Tom gladly obliged within an instant, pushing his hands through her long hair and holding her head to him. She gasped when she sensed his mouth nipping her bottom lip. 

Such a good kisser.

“Well, hmmm,” he panted as he pulled back a little, “seeing you’re back safe now...I erm - I probably best be going.” 

Charlotte softly licked her lower lip and nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes, you should.”

Her lips were so warm, soft and welcoming. God how he had missed those lips. He took a breath to steady himself before losing himself to her. Just once more.

“Mhmm,” he moaned into her mouth, “gone already.” 

Charlotte chuckled coyly as they exchanged just ‘one more kiss’, one more lick and nip, one more stroke of his strong hand over her shoulder, along her spine and over her soft curves. Over her hips, down to her thighs. Honestly, it wasn't him. It was that inobedient hand of his that lifted her leg over his hipbone and his defiant body that hungrily leaned into hers.

Charlotte groaned and gasped while settling the heel of her foot into his lower back. A tacit urge to press him up harder against her. Just like his body had been clear in his demand, so was hers now. Tom growled under his breath, earning a sweet helpless groan from her mouth.

His lips travelled down the side of her neck, to her collarbone. She tasted so sweet, she smelled so exquisite. His teeth softly grazed the tender bone and he felt the consecutive goosebumps that rose onto her arms. 

Charlotte clawed at his shirt, pushing it up over his fim torso and he assisted her in tugging it over his head. Flinging it to the floor, wherever it would land. On his part, he gently slid the zipper of her dress down, never taking his lips off her neck in the process. One simple twist of her shoulders and it pooled around her feet. 

Goodness gracious. 

He pulled himself from her for a minute to admire her. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Tom,” she whispered, “Tom, please.”

“It’s true,” he insisted. His deep blue eyes locking with hers for a moment before he confessed his words with a loving kiss. 

She adored how he lifted her off of her feet so easily and tenderly laid her down on the bed. He took his time, exploring every inch of her with his fingertips and then his lips. Kissing, caressing and teasing. 

Charlotte admired his restraint. She felt as if he wanted to explore all of her, memorise every curve and every edge whereas she? She could only arch her back as he did just that. Tom playfully bit down her chin, much to her delight. 

Christ, it had been so long. 

Tom found there was something so completely liberating into seeing her find pleasure in his actions. She whimpered and groaned under his touch and he relished it. 

My god, did he relish it. 

As their state of undress hastily continued, his lips moved down her neck to her curvy bosom where they closed over a pink peak, sucking it gently between his lips while his other hand firmly cupped her other breast . 

Charlotte whimpered helplessly and slowly moved her body underneath his, eager to find some friction. His erection was now clearly presenting itself against her thighs. And she pushed her hips into him needily. It had the desired effect, Tom groaned and he teasingly grazed his teeth over her nipple before reaching down, sliding his hands over her soft ass cheeks and grabbing onto her hips eagerly. Enough now. 

He ran his fingertips over her inner thighs and Charlotte wavered at his feather light touch. They travelled over her soft mound, stroking and teasing sweetly as they worked towards that little bundle of nerves. 

Charlotte clasped her own fingers ever so tightly into his back and breathed out his name in a heartfelt wanton plea. She could feel oblivion approaching so fast and she wanted to pull him in closer, or kiss him or just do something before she ultimately fell apart underneath his touch... She felt as if all her thoughts had come done shattering to the floor. 

It happened so fast, but not a second too soon. With a sense of boyish pride, Tom left a trail of hungry kiss down the column of her throat as Charlotte tried grounding herself.

He did find it took quite a lot of willpower to keep himself calm and patient in the process.

“Tom,” she whispered softly, “need you.”

He purred his own needs back at her, and softly slid in between her folds. His forehead rested against hers, their lips desperately searching each other, but failing to connect. 

Good heavens, he would not, could not last much longer.  

He clasped his hands over hers, softly taking control over her as he felt himself nearing his own climax. Charlotte moaned with eyes closed, frowning and flinching in complete and utter surrender. So arousing. Tom groaned and bit his lip while picking up the pace. Once. Twice. Lord almighty. 

His own climax followed all too soon to his liking. He winced and groaned as he sank down slightly on top of her, falling apart. He could hear her whimpering and breathing his name back at him, and a soft grunt fell from his lisp as he let himself slowly come down from his own high. 

What the everloving fuck...

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay like this, potentially crushing her underneath his knackered form. Pushing himself up he rose his head up slightly, brushing her long hair aside and admiring her discarded state. She was the most beautiful as he had ever seen. 

Still hovering on top of her, he leant down gently, offering Charlotte a lazy kiss. They caught their breath in unison and chuckled. No more words needed here...

[fmaffslut]

I (love) hate you.

Another book beating from Sheska. Ross got hit with that book so many times, she memorized the title of it. She walked out that room with an bruise left on her cheek. Maria didn’t know if she was just an victim or it was just an protection thing. All she did was fall over lap and then Maria ended up on top...ending up touching her boob...

“You know if she keeps doing that, I’ll report her. Just say the word.” Denny placed an cold rag where the bruise was.

“No! Don’t do that! We don’t know if it’s an protection thing or just an fidget.” Maria soaked the rag with more water and placed it on her cheek.

“Yeah, and if she makes you bleed and get an concussion, it’s just an fidget and she’s just being protective. You can’t fall for girls who literally hit you in the face with an book. She might as well kill you.”

“Listen, she’s probably just protecting herself.”

Denny sighed.

-

“Hey! Sheska, wait up!” Maria stopped Sheska in her tracks. Maria had an bandage on her cheek that everyone noticed. She gasped.

“What happened to your cheek?!”

“You happened. You know that you gave me an bruise right?”

“Oh no! I’m sorry! Gosh, dear god. Listen, I’m super sorry! How can I make it up to you?”

Maria was feeling sorry but then she said “make it up” and that just turned on all of her flirty lights. She was going to have fun with this.

“Date.��

Confusion struck Sheska.

“A date?”

“Yep, an date! You and me!”

“Oh no, I’m turning into one of those romance teen books where the girl has to go on an date with the boy or he’ll rat her out then she’ll fall in love with him...” Sheska said.

“What was that last part, Sheska?”

“N-nothing!”

-

The music played, the couples walked in, waiters carrying food. All that and Maria still didn’t show up.

5 minutes...

10 minutes...

15 minutes...

20 minutes...

25 minutes...

30 minutes...

40 minutes...

50 minutes...

55 minutes...

An hour had passed.

‘Leave. Just leave. She’s not going to come, you’ve been waiting for an hour! Just leave.’ Sheska thought.

If she knew she was going to wait for THIS long, she should have brought an book to kill time. 

Red sweater, white skirt, red flats. One of Sheska’s favorite formal outfits. Events like this made her wear it.

“So, you came.” 

“You!-” Sheska stopped from nearly cursing out Maria in public when she saw what was in her hands.

Red roses, chocolates, and 5 books. Sheska didn’t pay attention to anything else but the books.

“Sorry I took so long! I was getting something.”

“Um...I don’t know what to say...thank you.”

-

“Sorry if you can’t read none of it...it’s Xingese.-”

“Jīròu pà mǎ sēn. $ 15.99. 1,060 Kǎlùlǐ... Jīròu péigēn dàn miàn. $ 18.99. 1,540 Kǎlùlǐ... Jīròu hé xiā Carbonara. $ 18.99. 1,390 Kǎlùlǐ... Yìdàlì zhī lǚ. $ 18.29. ... Jī nuówēi hǎizhē xiā. $ 16.29. ... Mǎ'ěr sà lā niàng de jī. $ 17.49. ... Zoodles Primavera yǔ kǎo jī. $ 16.99.”

((it’s the olive garden menu btw)

Maria was shocked. Bookworm knows Xing? That’s something you’ll never see.

“You aren’t the only who can speak another language, Miss Ross.”

“Okay, Miss Brisanhame.”

An few laughs and an few more. This date was starting to go well.

-

“And I thought I was the only one with an non-social child-” Sheska drank some more water “hood.”

“Me too. Kids wasn’t really my thing when I was little so I just bailed out on most of them.”

“You too? Had an dollar everytime I ditched on one of my play dates that my mom set up, I would haven’t even joined to military AND moved her to an better hospital.”

“You should be lucky. If you didn’t join, I would have never had an better relationship with you.”

“Trust me. I’ve never been on an date nor have any friends.”

“You’ve never been on an date?”

“Nope. Everyone kept rejecting me for prettier girls.”

“You’re fun once everyone gets to know you more.”

An hour later and some Irish music began to play.

The waitress stood up to the microphone.

“Alright, it’s Irish hour! Grab an partner and begin to dance!”

“Irish at an Xingese place?” Sheska asked.

“Weird, I know. You know how to dance?”

“Do I? I know how to do some Irish movements.-”

“Perfect!” Maria grabbed Sheska’s hand and leaded her in the middle of the restaurant.

They began to dance.

And dance.

And dance.

Then slowly after every movement.

They found each other’s lips on the other.

“I think you might wanna remove your glasses.” Maria laughs as her hands went on the arms of her glasses and places them in her pocket.

‘Shut up, idiot.” Sheska laughs as they go for another kiss.

The date was successful

Successful enough that they even claimed each other as girlfriends.

-

@fma03month

[liskysun]

(Before reading, please aknowledge that it's not my first language and it can be some mistakes, I'm sorry)

To All the people who says bitching about the new episode and RWBY's reaction toward Oz

-You do realize that they are still teens/young adults, right ? They can do some mistakes, errors of jugement. Yeah, maybe they don't have the right to see Ozpin past, yeah. But hey, they are just lost in the middle of Nowhere filled with Grimm because Oz forgot to tell them about the Relic. He don't have excuse for this. He had time to tell them, what could have cost him to tell them ("Uh, oh, btw, it's attract Grimm, so it can put everyone's lifes in danger"). They ask him to not tell them half truth, and what did he? He lied to them. So yeah, they can be upset. And yeah, I also think that WBY didn't have to threat Qrow but...put yourself to their place: They just have a train crash. Because they just find that the Relic attracts Grimms, si they have to seperate from the rest of the group. They also had to protect Maria Calavera -who probable can fight but for now, nobody know it-. So they are stressed, probable still under the stress of the fight against the Grimm.

Of course RWBY is going to make some mistakes, they are not going to think straight, they are humans! -Well, faunus, in Blake's case-. They are upset and stressed and they don't know who they can trust. Qrow was on Oz's side since the beginning, he tells Yang to shut up everytime she tried to call him for his bullshit! (But I still hope that Yang is going to says pardon to Qrow for nearly attacking him, he didn't deserve it)

And, for the people who call Yang a hypocrite:

What would have changed if she told them the truth? Almost nothing. Raven doesn't want to be involved in this, so she would probably told them to leave her. That's All.

And she is still an emotionnal teenager/ young adult. Yang probably don't really know who she can trust. She probably wantes to know what are Oz's intentions for Spring before telling him that she know who is Spring.

And For Ozpin...

He is not a teenager. He already made mistakes, hé told it himself. We say that wisdom come from experience. Ozpin had experience. He's complaining about peoples who betrays him. But did he know why they betray betray him -and 'betray" is a strong word, if you use it to call people who just want to know what they are risking theirs lifes for-.

When he begs RWBY to not use the lamp, he could have says 'I can tell you what is really happening' or 'I can tell you why I don't trust people' -the fear of being betray is not the only reason, let's be honest-.

He could have been honest

It could have calm down RWBY, show them that he's just a poor man cursed for.. We still don't know why but we're gonna learn it in the next episodes I think.

...it turns out to be longer than expected..

[bennetttalks-politcal]

Trump has continued to lie to us from the beginning of his Presidency to his attempt at re-election. Here are 40 promises he’s made and has broken.

1. Covid would “go away without a vaccine”. The virus has killed over 209,000 Americans.

2. He said he “won’t have time to play golf” He has made more trips to golf during this pandemic than meetings with Dr. Fauci and has golfed more times than any President and cost taxpayers more than $136 MILLION, as a reminder he only paid $750 in US taxes in 2017.

3. He would “repeal the affordable care act” and replace it with something “beautiful” (7 million Americans have lost their health insurance since he took office) Hé also asked the Supreme Court to strike down the law in the middle of this Global Pandemic with absolutely no plans or details on how to replace it.

4. He said he would cut your taxes and make the rich pay more.(By 2027, the top 1% will have received 83% of the Trump tax cut. The richest 0.1% will receive 60% of it. And more than half of all Americans will have had to pay MORE in taxes.

5. He said Corporate tax cuts would be invested in workers. Reality: Corporations spent more of their tax savings buying back shares of their own stock than increasing workers wages.

6. He said he would boost economic growth by 4% a year. The economy ended up stalling, unemployment soared to the highest levels since the Great Depression 14.7%. Just over half of Americans who are older than 16 are employed. The worst ratio in 70 years.

7. He said “I’m not going to cut Social Security like every other Republican, and I’m not going to cut Medicare or Medicaid.” His latest budget includes billions in cuts to Social Security, Medicare AND Medicaid.

8. He promised he would be “the voice” of American workers. He said “I am your voice”, while his administration has stripped workers of their rights, repealed overtime protections, rolled back workplace safety rules, and turned the other way to employers who steal their workers’ wages.

9. He promised the average American family would see a $4,000 pay raise because of his tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations. There was no “trickle down effect”, in fact wages for most Americans have barely kept up with inflation.

10. He said “Anyone who wants a test for COVID-19 will get one” Countless Americans still can’t get a test for COVID.

11. He said Hydroxychloroquine protects against COVID-19. The FDA actually revoked its emergency authorization due to the drug’s potentially lethal side effects.

12. He promised to ELIMINATE the federal deficit in 8 years. So far he has increased it by 68%!

13. He said he would hire “only the best people”. He has fired a record number of his own cabinet and White House picks, then called them “whackos, dumb as a rock” and “not mentally qualified”. 7 of them have been charged with crimes.

14. He said he would bring down the cost of prescription drugs. He said “The drug industry has been disasterous. They’re getting away with murder.” Drug prices have soared, and a company that got federal funds to develop a drug to treat coronavirus is charging $3,000 a pill.

15. He said he’d revive the struggling coal industry by bringing back lost coal mining jobs. The coal industry has lost almost 1,000 jobs since Trump became President as clean energy has become cheaper.

16. He promised to help American workers during the pandemic. 80% of the tax benefits in the coronavirus stimulus package have gone to millionaires and billionaires. At least 21 MILLION Americans have lost extra unemployment benefits, with no new stimulus check to fall back on.

17. He said he’d “drain the swamp”. Instead he’s brought into his administration more billionaires, CEO’s and Wall Street Moguls than in any other administration in history. He’s also filled departments and agencies with former lobbyists, lawyers, and consultants who are crafting new policies for the same industries they used to work for.

18. He said he would protect Americans with “pre-existing conditions”. “Preexisting conditions are in the bill and I mandated it, I said has to be.” His justice department is trying to repeal the entire Affordable Care Act, including protections for people with preexisting conditions.

19. He said “Mexico will pay for the wall”. The wall is estimated to cost American Tax payers $11 BILLION.

20. He said he’d bring Peace to the Middle East. Instead, tensions have increased and his so-called “peace plan” was doa, dead on arrival.

21. He said he would lock up Hillary Clinton for using a private email server. Ironically enough, Trump uses his personal cell phone for official business, and several members of his own administration, including daughter Ivanka and son-in-law Jared Kushner who have used private email in the White House.

22. He said he’d use his business experience to whip the federal government into shape. His own White House is in permanent chaos. He caused the longest government shutdown in our nation’s history when he didn’t get funding for his wall.

23. He tried to end DACA. The Supreme Court ruled that his plan to deport 700,000 young immigrants was unconstitutional, and DACA still stands.

24. He promised 6 weeks of PAID maternity leave. “To any mother with a newborn child whose employer does not provide the benefit”. Still hasn’t happened.

25. He said he’d bring an end to Kim Jung-un’s nuclear program. Kim is EXPANDING North Korea’s nuclear program.

26. He said he would distance himself from his businesses while in office. He continues to make money from his properties and maintain his grip on his real estate empire. He has used his properties as leverage on foreign powers, he has also used his properties as meeting locations with other countries, which they have to pay for and goes into Trumps wallet.

27. He said he would force companies to keep jobs in America, “There will be a major border tax on these companies that are leaving”. Since he took office, companies like GE, Carrier, Ford and Harley Davidson have continued to outsource thousands of jobs while still receiving massive tax breaks. As well as offshoring by FEDERAL contractors have increased!

28. He promised to end the opioid crisis. As Americans are now more likely to die from an opioid overdose than a car accident!

29. He said he’d release his tax returns. It’s been nearly 4 years, he has not released his tax returns. The president has faced legal challenges over access to his tax returns, including a lawsuit by the House of Representatives to obtain the documents as part of congressional oversight. NY Times has obtained his returns for 2017 claiming he only paid $750 in US income tax while paying $156,824 in taxes in the Philippines and $145,400 in India.

30. He promised to negotiate a better Iran Nuclear Deal. Negotiations have gone no where while managing to bring us to the brink of war.

31. He said he would enact term limits for all members of Congress. He hasn’t even tried to enact term limits.

32. He said China would pay for tariffs on imported goods. Reality: His trade war has cost the U.S. Consumers $34 BILLION A YEAR, eliminated 300,000 American jobs, and cost American taxpayers $22 BILLION in subsidies for farmers hurt by the tariffs.

33. He said he was going to “push colleges to cut the skyrocketing cost of tuition.” Instead, he’s made it easier for for-profit colleges to defraud students while the tuition still continues to rise.

34. He said he would protect American steel jobs, while the industry continues to lose steel jobs.

35. He said the GOP tax cuts would spur economic growth. He promised tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations would start economics growth and pay for themselves. His tax cuts will add $2 TRILLION to the federal deficit.

36. He said he’d negotiate a better deal on the environment. After pulling out of the Paris Climate Accord, he said he’d negotiate a better deal on the environment. He hasn’t even attempted to negotiate any deal.

37. He claimed he would sue his accusers of sexual misconduct. “All of these lira will be sued after the election is over.” He promised that the many women who accused him of sexual misconduct. He hasn’t sued them, most likely because he doesn’t want the truth to come to fruition.

38. He claimed he would bring back all troops from Afghanistan. He now says “we’ll always have somebody there.”

39. He pledged to put America First. Instead, he’s deferred to dictators and authoritarians at America’s expense, and excluded our allies - who now laugh at us behind our back.

40. He promised to be the voice of the common people. In reality he has made his rich friends richer, increased the political power of big corporations and the wealthy and harmed working Americans.

[soundofez]

The Color of Thunder

Tags: Adrien & Chloé*, Chloé/Nino, fake dating au, secret dating au, with adrinette romance and marino friendship in the far distant backdrop

Summary: It was supposed to be a double date, Adrien with Chloé and Nino with Marinette. Nino and Chloé showed up on time. Adrien and Marinette did not.

(characters connected with & are strictly platonic)

hahAHAHFFFFF I FORGOT TO POST THIS

this is……. from several months back, and was in fact my contribution to @project-ml​’s project: sky zine— which is free, btw, and has even more fantastic art and fic by others of the pml crew

much love to @sarahcada​ and @altoblt5 for beta’ing this fic ♥ you can find this thing on ao3 orrrrrr you can keep reading :3c

“I worry for your future partner.”

“Hm? Why? Well, I suppose you should be worried that they won’t be able to keep up with how fabulous I am. What do you think of this color?”

“It’s a little darker than your usual eyeshadow. And, Chloé, I’m worried that you’ll be… too mean for them.”

“Aww, Adrikins, you’re cute.”

“I’m very aware, thanks. Not everyone is willing to put up with this much shopping— Here, just toss it in the basket if you want it.”

“You’re here, and we’re only faking it. You said it’s too dark?”

“I said it’s darker than your usual, but you could make it work. Also, I’m your friend, I know what I signed up for.”

“I guess. You really think it could work?”

“You’re the one who isn’t putting it back.”

“Yes, but… it reminds me of your… friend.”

“… Nino?”

“Yeah, him.”

“You like Nino?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Chloé.”

“Well if he’s good enough for you, he’s good enough for me. But he’s with that pest, so this is all… ugh.”

“Marinette is not a pest, nor is she actually with— What about this color, exactly, reminds you of Nino?”

“Marinette is absolutely a pest— and look, it’s the color of thunder, just like his eyes.”

“Wow, you like him a lot. You do know that thunder is a sound, and that lightning is blue…?”

“I didn’t say they were the color of lightning, did I? I swear your tutors have put mush in your brains.”

“It’s science, Chloé.”

“Mush, darling, mush. We still need to pick up nail polish for our next date.”

“Wha— You’re not out of red already, are you?”

“Ladybug nails are in fashion, okay?”

Nino hopes viciously that Marinette and Adrien have fallen into a black hole. Yes! Fine! They like each other! That’s still no reason to abandon him with Chloé!

As if on cue, Chloé snarls and throws her phone on the table. Nino catches it automatically when it skids toward him.

“Give that back,” she demands.

“You’re the one who threw it,” Nino points out.

“Ugh, how are you even friends with my Adrien?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she shoves herself to her feet and claws at Nino for her phone. “Give it!”

Nino backs away. “What are you, five—?”

“Is there a problem here, miss?”

Chloé turns to the waiter and stomps a foot. “Yes! He stole my phone!”

“If you hadn’t thrown it—”

They find themselves standing in the rain outside the restaurant.

Chloé is livid, shouting and screaming threats at the restaurant door. Nino rolls his eyes and walks away, texting Marinette and Adrien as he goes.

The rain makes typing more difficult, and he misses several keys. Annoying.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home.”

Chloé’s hand catches Nino’s shoulder, reeling him to a stop. He glances at her irritably. “What?” she demands. “What’s the point of a date if you’re just going to ditch it?”

“We’ve been ditched,” Nino points out. “Has Adrien called back yet?”

“Let me think— oh wait, I don’t know, because you still have my phone, you thief. Has the pest called you?”

“No, Marinette has not. Here, take your phone back.”

Chloé snatches the device from Nino’s hand. “He hasn’t replied.”

“I figured. Bye.”

“Wait!”

Nino pinches himself, hoping to escape the nightmare, and gets a stinging cheek for his troubles. He sighs and turns back to Chloé. “What?”

“You’re not just going to leave me here, are you?”

“That was the plan.”

Chloé’s lower lip wobbles.

Nino palms his face. He could just leave, he tells himself, because Chloé is not worth the headache, no matter how pretty she is. He peeks through his fingers at her. Definitely crying. She even sniffles for good measure, and even though he knows it’s fake, he groans and sticks out his hand anyway. “Fine, I’ll walk you back to your place.”

She stares at his hand. When he starts to take it back, though, she seizes it. “In the rain?” she asks skeptically, looking up at him. “It’ll ruin my hair.”

“Well, it’s ruin your precious blowdry or stand around all night, and I am not standing around all night.”

She resists his tugging, but after a moment she hesitantly steps out into the rain. “It’s cold,” she complains. “If I get sick, you’d better cough up the money.”

“Yeah, whatever, let’s just get this over— Was that a pun?”

Chloé looks sly. “You’re not Adrien’s only friend.” She points across the street. Nino squints along the line of her finger as she says, “Compensate me for this awful date.”

She’s pointing at a movie theatre. Nino is skeptical. “The movies?”

“We were supposed to be on a double date,” Chloé says innocently. “No reason to cut it short just because Adrien didn’t make it.”

“If you’re not careful, I might start thinking you like me,” Nino grumbles, but he lets her tug him toward the theater.

“Me? I would never.”

“Yeah, I know, you’ve only got eyes for your sweet precious Adrikins.”

Chloé pouts at him. “We love each other dearly.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We do!”

“Sure, Chloé.”

They agree surprisingly quickly on which movie to watch. By the time they emerge from the theater, the rain has stopped, though neither of them notice.

“They should have kissed,” Chloé sighs.

“What— They did kiss, though?”

“They should have kissed more—”

A couple stumbles around the street corner directly in front of Chloé and Nino, and they nearly bowl each other over.

“Marinette?” Nino asks incredulously, recognizing dark pigtails.

“Chlo!” Marinette’s companion yelps. It’s Adrien.

“Nino!” Marinette replies guiltily. “Sorry, we were just—”

“You two are together?” Chloé screeches. “Adrikins, no, this is too much. Nino, fine, Nino is fine, but Marinette?”

“Excuse you, I am at least as fine as Nino—”

“Did you just call Nino fine?”

“Absolutely not. And you! What were you doing feeling up Adrien in a side street, anyway? Nino isn’t enough for you?”

“I was not feeling him up—”

“You look pretty felt up,” Nino comments to Adrien.

Adrien grimaces back. “I wish.”

“What were you doing, anyway? It better have been good, since. You know.” Nino tilts his head toward Chloé, who is too busy bickering with Marinette to notice.

Adrien shakes his head mournfully. “Got held up by an akuma,” he explains. “Ladybug and Cat Noir only just set everything right.”

Nino glances skeptically down the side street his two friends had emerged from. “And you and Marinette were dumped alone together down a side street?”

Adrien blushes. “You and Chlo just came out of a theatre together,” he counters.

“That was Chloé’s idea. Because it was raining.”

“Maybe we aren’t dating!” Marinette bellows at Chloé, and Nino and Adrien both look at her, startled. “Just like you and—”

She shuts her mouth suddenly, glancing from Chloé to Adrien to Nino. “Nino, let’s go,” she mutters, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away.

“Text,” Nino mouths at Adrien, who nods back and tugs Chloé gently in the opposite direction.

“Did you start without me? I’m hurt.”

“You’re hurt? You ditched me last night.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but you know how awful my luck is with akuma attacks. Why do you have two unopened bottles of Ladybug Red? I thought you ran out.”

“I told you, Ladybug nails are in fashion. I need backups. And, by the way, I cannot approve of you and that pest. I refuse.”

“Marinette is not a pest. And you approve of her fashion sense, don’t you?”

“That’s different! Good taste does not a good person make.”

“That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.— That’s green, not black.”

“Hm? Oh, you’re right. Ugh, I always mix up Cat’s Eye and Cat Noir. You won’t keep seeing her, will you? She’s dating Nino, I thought he was your friend, I thought friends didn’t steal each other’s dates out from under their noses.”

“They’re dating about as much as we are. Nino’s been chill with us for a while. How is he, by the way?”

“He’s your friend. Wait, so they knew that we were also faking it?”

“Maybe. You should text him! He’s your crush. Have you talked to him at all since last night?”

“Why would I?”

“Chloé. Gimme your phone.”

“No.”

“Chlooooooo.”

“You’ll get nail polish all over it— Hé! Give it back!”

“No can do, sorry— Ow! Did you just bite me?”

“Yes! Ugh, he’s really rubbed off on you— wait, what are you doing?”

“Message sent. Have fun!”

[astralaffairs]

When Stars Align || Lafayette x Reader - Chapter 4

Pairing: Lafayette x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: mentions of death, john laurens being suggestive, sexist aaron burr

Taglist: @lttlethings @followingnaturespath @secretfanficreader @superwholockbooknerd526 @apandawithcookies

tell me if you want to be added to the tags!

“I do not know what it is about the smells of rain, but it calms me,” I said, smiling as I leaned against the windowsill. It had been nearly a month since I arrived, and I was finally getting to know all of the men. As it turned out, they weren’t always enormous assholes.

“Really? I hate it,” Laurens said and I sighed.

“And ‘ere we are again, you are always a downer,” I walked back over to my bed and dropped onto the springy mattress.

“Could you two shut up? I’m trying to beat these two at cards,” Mulligan said and I rolled my eyes.

“You are awful in cards,” I pointed out as he huffed and took another hand.

“That’s why I said trying,” he said and I chuckled.

I laid there, eyes shut, listening to the rain for a few more minutes. A creak from beside me signaled that the door was opening. My eyes flitted open to glance at who was entering the room.

“Mail,” he said, bringing in his crate, “hopefully it’s not all soaked.”

I furrowed my brow, recognizing the man. Was he the one who was talking to Washington the first day I was here?

“Thanks Burr,” Hamilton walked over to the crate and started shuffling through the letters. I didn’t move, assuming that I had no mail.

I went back to watching the rain. It was too bad that it was raining, as it was warmer out than it had been in a while. I would’ve liked to go into town, see the markets and people.

“Hey Y/N, have you met Burr?” Hamilton asked, yanking me from my thoughts.

“Maybe?” I replied, not sure how to answer. I mean, we’d met briefly and I’d used that time to basically tell him that his attack plan was stupid. Hamilton’s eyes lit up at my answer.

“He’s the prodigy of Princeton College,” he informed me excitedly.

“'Ere we go again,” Lafayette said tiredly.

“Graduated in two years then joined the Revolution!” Herc added, mimicking Hamilton’s excitement.

“An orphan just like me!” Laurens joined in. Hamilton was an orphan? I felt my heart stop as I realized what that meant.

“Alright, enough,” Hamilton cut them off, rolling his eyes, “Burr, this in Y/N Legrand; Y/N, this is Aaron Burr.”

“Nice to meet you,” I gave him a forced smile and shook his hand.

“You as well,” he replied with a smile that appeared genuine before taking the crate and leaving again. That was when the reality hit me.

Hamilton was an orphan. I would never get to know my mother. My stomach turned to lead as I sat onto my bed. I would never have someone to call Meré.

I walked back over to the windowsill, looking out so that they couldn’t see my face. I did everything I could to suppress the hot tears stinging my eyes.

I stood there, looking out but not seeing anything. I must have been there for hours, though they felt like minutes.

“Y/N, we’re heading down to the pub, wanna come?” Laurens asked. His words shook my from my daze, distracting me for a moment from my feelings. I hadn’t a clue how long I’d been standing there. It was only then that I finally realized that the rain had stopped.

“Non. Go on ahead without me. I am not really in the mood,” I turned around and sat on my bed, giving him a small smile. He raised an eyebrow but shrugged and didn’t question it.

I pulled out my journal as they left. I flipped to one of my many portraits of my mother, drinking in every detail of her face. I looked at every hard line and every curve, my tears threatening to spill as I wished more than anything to just once see that gorgeous woman standing in front of me.

They shut the door, and that’s when I was finally done supressing my emotions.

The tears that had been pricking the corners of my eyes now streamed down my cheeks, ruining my drawing as they soaked my journal. She was gone? How long had she been gone?

Loud sobs shook my entire body as I sat cross legged, hunched over my journal. I was in utter disbelief. I had never even gotten to know her.

I drew in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm myself, but it hardly lasted a second. Tears covered my face and filled my hands as I cried with the force of ocean waves battling the cliffside.

“Y/N?” a quiet voice behind me asked. I slowly lifted my head, almost afraid to turn around and see him standing behind me.

“Can you leave?” I asked as nicely as I could manage.

“Why are you crying? What is wrong?” Lafayette asked, rushing to my side.

“It is nothing.” I took a deep breath. “Can you just pretending you did not see me?”

“Not anymore; I ‘ave just walked in on you sobbing,” he said softly.

“Just do not say anything. Is nothing. I am fine.” I shook my head, running my hand through my hair.

“Hé, no you are not. What happened?” He took a seat next to me on my bed, dripping water onto my sheets from his rain-soaked clothing. I finally looked at him. His kind brown eyes filled with concern as he examined my expression. Could I tell him?

“Is Hamilton an orphan? Was Laurens serious?” I asked, longing for him to tell me it wasn’t true.

“I- What?” Lafayette asked, taken aback, “What does that 'ave to do with anything?”

“Just answer me. S'il vous plaît,” I said.

“Yes. 'E is an orphan. Now can you tell me why you were crying?”

Another sob escaped me at his words, and I was soon weeping once again. Lafayette wrapped his arms around me and my breath hitched at the touch, slowing my tears for just a moment. He pulled me into his embrace that was cold to the touch but warmed me inside.

“Hé, you are okay. I am 'ere. You are safe.” He stroked my hair calmingly. I inhaled deeply and caught the smell of old books and bonfires with my face nuzzled into his arm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked. I grimaced ever so slightly, knowing that I couldn’t carry on without telling him.

“I 'ave a secret,” I finally said, “I am sorry that I haven’t told you, but it’s bigger than any I 'ave ever kept.” He gave me a look of confusion, so I continued.

“If I tell you this, you 'ave to swear not to tell a soul.”

“You 'ave my word,” he promised. I took a deep breath before coming right out with it.

“Hamilton is my brother.” I sat in front of him awaiting a reaction. I searched his face, the only sign of any feeling lying in his eyes. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“What?” he asked. No emotion was in his tone. I instantly regretted telling him.

“Well, 'alf brother. 'is mother is mine as well,” I explained. We sat there in silence for a few more minutes, him still holding me. He fiddled with a lock of my hair and I found myself unable to breathe anytime his hand even nearly brushed my skin.

“That still does not explain why you were crying, mon amie,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“I just,” I began, “I never knew my mother. I 'ave always wanted to, but I never had the chance. But now, to learn that she is dead, I do not know what to do.”

Tears began to stream from my eyes once again, but I blinked them back. I didn’t need his pity. I didn’t want it.

“And my father, on top of that. Four months ago my family received word that 'e passed away.” I nearly choked on the sob growing in my throat. A single tear escaped my eye, and the rest followed without delay.

“I am an orphan, Laf,” I sobbed. I no longer cared whether I had his pity. I just needed his comfort.

“Hé, shh. I know,” he said softly. He lifted my chin so I was looking at him. He wiped my tears away with his thumb, though it didn’t do anything but replace the tears with water from his hands. My breath caught in my throat as I looked into his eyes.

“But you are 'ere now. 'Ere with us. With your brother,” he whispered. In a motion so subtle I would’ve missed if his face were not so near mine, his eyes flickered to my lips. “With me.”

He lead my face to his as we both closed our eyes in anticipation. I could feel the warmth of his skin only millimeters away from my own.

Thud.

My eyes snapped open as a boot hit the first step coming up to our barracks. I looked into Lafayette’s eyes which were now further from my own as we had both pulled slightly away at the sound. Surprise filled his eyes and I bit my lip, startled at the sound but reluctant to leave his touch.

Thud.

I pulled away from him instantly upon hearing the sound again. We both sat next to each other when the door creaked open.

“Hey guys, did I leave my coat in here?” Hamilton asked, walking into the room. I felt a sort of resentment as he walked in, but instantly chastised myself. He hasn’t walked in on anything real. There was simply a moment where I was at my lowest and Lafayette came in at the right time.

“I am not sure,” Lafayette responded stiffly. I tried to catch his eyes but he had fixed his glance on his shoes.

“Well, I just wanted to come get it; the rain is picking up,” he said, pulling his jacket on.

“I 'ad not noticed,” Lafayette said.

“Alright, I’m going to head back to the bar. Either of you care to join me?” Hamilton asked.

“I think I will,” Lafayette said. He looked me in the eye before standing up, though I couldn’t read his expression. I felt a sort of hurt as he walked with Hamilton to the door, but did my best to brush it off. I had no reason to feel hurt. So why did I?

And they walked out together, leaving me alone with my sadness and newfound confusion.

Over the next few days, it kept raining non-stop. I kept to myself for the most part, reading or writing in my journal. I didn’t talk to Lafayette about what had happened. I wasn’t even sure I knew what had happened.

Later in the week, the rain finally cleared up. Clear, bright blue skies and warm weather to match. Well, warm for a New York February.

I didn’t bother dressing in uniform, but instead slid on a dull orange sweater that I had essentially stolen from my brother’s room just days before my departure. I also grabbed a pair of ran pants and my brown leather riding boots.

Though I knew they would have disagreed, I didn’t feel like I was on the best of terms with the four men who lived with me. But I wanted more than anything to go into town.

When they finally all left together in the evening, going who knows where, I grabbed my journal as well as all the change I had left and left. I ran out gleefully onto the muddy road down to the stables.

York, my father’s horse, whinnied as I threw open the stable doors. I lightly grimaced as I remembered how easily startled the stallion was.

“I am sorry I left you 'ere for so long,” I said quietly, rubbing its neck. I kissed its silky coat before dropping my belongings into the bag on its saddle.

I mounted him after leading him out of the stable, and grinning ear to ear, snapped the reins I held.

He went forward through the camp at a quick trot and I was surprised at how eager I was to leave.

Soon, I was back onto the cobblestone street that lead through the city. I inhaled deeply, knowing that wearing my old day clothes and riding my father’s horse was the closest I would get to home. I didn’t care too much. The scent of cinnamon lingered under my nose as I remembered my brother’s favorite thing in the world: cinnamon rolls.

I walked York over to the market stall to where I traced the scent back. I paid for the decadent pastry with a smile before leading the horse alongside me to a bench at the edge of the square.

I took a massive bite from the gooey cinnamon roll, not caring in the slightest as my face was covered in the sticky sweet filling. I finished it in likely under a minute, letting out a sigh of happiness as I licked off my fingers and wiped my face.

A quiet chuckle beside me startled me, as I had thought I was alone in the bench. I flipped the hair shielding my view to my right onto my shoulder to see who sat next to me. I let out a sigh upon seeing his face.

“Merde, Laf. You scared me.” I put my hand to my heart as he chuckled. I glared playfully as his amusement.

“What are you doing down 'ere? Where are the others?” I asked with a grin.

“I, um,” he coughed, a blush filling his cheeks. I raised an eyebrow at his clear discomfort.

“Well, I headed back from lunch to come check on you in our barracks, but you weren’t there,” he said, shifting in his seat, “And I remembered you saying you wanted to go into town earlier in the week, so I came here to try and find you.”

“Thank you, but I can manage on my own for a few hours,” I replied with a chuckle, brushing my hair out of my face. His cheeks flushed a deeper red. We sat there for a few minutes; neither of us said anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was peaceful bliss, sitting there looking into his eyes. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop it when another man slid into the seat next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders.

“I see you’ve met my friend, though why would anyone want to talk to him when I’m here?” I couldn’t see him on the bench, but I knew instantly that it was John Laurens.

“And with a body like that,” I didn’t turn around, but could almost feel him looking me up and down, “Why waste your time with him?” He scooted closer to me and slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I still wasn’t facing him, and it became clear that he didn’t recognize me from the back.

“Laurens,” Lafayette warned, trying to bring his attention to who he was talking to.

“Relax Laf, I’m just joking about you,” he snickered, unable to take a hint.

“You should come down to camp with me; I’ll treat you right,” he went on, his focus back on me. I rolled my eyes as a snort of laughter nearly escaped me.

“C'mon baby, don’t you talk?” he nudged me.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” I turned to face him finally, hardly suppressing my laughter.

“Y/N,” his eyes widened and his face turned a deep scarlet. I burst out laughing at his reaction.

“I take it you have a, 'ow you say, zing for me?” I teased, nudging his side.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked Lafayette, his eyes still wide. Lafayette sighed at our friend’s clear obliviousness.

“On ze bright side, you know that I will be coming down to camp with you,” I laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Laurens muttered with a sheepish smile.

“You ought to be a bit more careful 'oo you 'it on,” I said, still chuckling. He rolled his eyes and finally realized that his arm was still around my waist. He blushed, if possible, even a deeper red as he removed it and shifted away from me a bit.

“Alright, I will see you guys back at camp later. I 'ave a few things I would like to pick up.” I stood up, grabbing York’s reigns.

“We will come with you,” Lafayette offered.

“I am fine on my own. Besides, Mulligan and 'amilton will be waiting for you at camp,” I said.

“Okay, see you later Y/N,” Laurens stood up and I chuckled at his still pink face.

They walked back down the cobblestone trail as I looked around the square for what I needed. It took me a few minutes of walking, but I finally came across a market stall selling ink and parchment.

I picked up a bottle of ink as well as a few feet of parchment before paying the store owner. Glad to have a means of communication again, I smiled as I laid it into my bag attached to York’s saddle. I then went down to curl comfortably under a large oak tree with a cup of coffee I had bought from a nearby stand.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the smell and feeling the heat of my warm drink, and a smile came to my face. I took a long sip before putting the cup onto the ground beside me to instead pick up my journal.

I sketched my view upwards, the spire of the tree trunk at the edge with the branches sprouting outwards, along with the dim sunset light filtering through to make many of the branches little more than silhouettes against the bright sky.

I drew a stroke of one of the final branches before lifting my head to look above myself once more, but something caught me eye on my way.

A familiar looking trio stood in front of me, though I couldn’t quite place where I had seen them before. I eyed them quizzically as they strided through the square, nearly dancing. Their demeanor was altogether one of joy, but the third of the girls looked less than happy.

It finally struck me that these were the same three girls I had seen in the square just a month ago. I furrowed my brow. They looked wealthy, from their fancy shoes to how their hair was perfectly parted.

Apparently, someone else had the same thought. I watched Burr approach them, looking full of himself and confident. That confidence was clearly misplaced, I thought, as they didn’t look exactly pleased to meet him.

Nevertheless, the smug look never dropped from his face. I rolled my eyes, shutting my book and slipping it into my bag to walk over.

“Burr! Lovely to see you. 'ow 'as your day been? 'arrassed many women? Or are these the first?” I asked, leaning my elbow onto his shoulder casually.

“Y/N. Always a pleasure,” he forced a smile, “I was just having a nice chat with these three.”

“Is that the phrase they use 'ere in the colonies for being rejected by someone? I 'ave not 'eard it; I suppose I will 'ave to add it to my vocabulary,” I said, raising my eyebrows. He forced a laugh.

“I guess I’ll see you all around,” he said, still smiling, but his eyes narrowed in annoyance. I rolled my eyes as he walked off.

“That asshole,” I shook my head before turning to the trio who still stood in front of me.

“That was amazing,” the one in pink said.

“I am glad you think so,” I said with a chuckle, “I 'ave 'ad a month learning 'ow to deal with the men in the army.”

“The army,” she started, knitting her brow in confusion, “but you’re a woman.”

“That I am. Y/N Legrand,” I extended my hand in greeting. She shook it with an expression that was somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“I’m Angelica Schuyler,” she said, “and these are my sisters, Eliza and Peggy.”

“So you’ve been in the army for a month?” she questioned, a smile playing at her lips. I nodded.

“I work as a battle strategist for General Washington,” I explained, “It is usually nice, but the four men I live with are often complete asses.”

“You live with four men?” Peggy asked, scrunching up her nose in displeasure.

“Unfortunately,” I laughed, “Where are you three from?”

“We just live uptown,” Eliza said.

“Then I suggest you get back; this isn’t a great place for three rich ladies after sundown,” I advised.

“You sound like everyone else,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “we’re here to see the revolution. I’m looking for a mind at work.”

“There are very few of those in ze revolution,” I chuckled. “Though I suppose downtown is just as good a place to look as any. Find anyone yet?”

“You’re the first,” Eliza said with a wink.

“I am flattered, but you are not really my type,” I joked.

“I’m hurt,” she faked a pained expression and placed her hand on her heart. We both burst out laughing after a moment.

“I cannot tell you 'ow nice it is to talk to women for a change,” I said, still giggling.

“I can’t imagine being exclusively around men,” Eliza said.

“I remember a time when I could not 'ave either,” I sighed, looking out on my camp just past the city. Lights were starting to go out.

“It is about time for me to get back to camp, though. Please tell me this is not the last time I will see you?” I asked.

“It won’t be.”

[dawen]

Words To Guide You

A Jackrabbit soulmate fic written as a fill for the RotG kink meme here (well, a background fill).

~

It started out as normal protocol. On-duty warriors  weren’t supposed to look at their words at all; any kind of drastic change could make a warrior horribly unpredictable at the worst of times. Most recruits complained – but then, most recruits’ words changed frequently, and had more than seven different phrases to cycle through.

Private Bunnymund’s beloved hadn’t been born yet, and the behavior of his words proved it.

~

He saw how his fellow warriors were affected by their words after leave. They would come back shaken, or buzzing with pent-up energy. They would talk about what new, never-before-seen phrase had been under their bracers when they first took off the uniform. They came back after three days of remedial training, to get their minds back on the war at hand.

Sergeant Bunnymund still had to complete the remedial training, of course. Even if the phrase under his bracers, identical on both wrists, didn’t seem to change in the first five years he’d been a warrior.

It wasn’t like it was anything new.

More and more warriors returned, shaken and worried, from their leave even as fewer and fewer warriors were allowed – could afford to be allowed – leave in the first place.

They were finding phrases like dead and rotting and scaredscaredscaredFEARLING under their bracers.

Many had no words at all anymore, and that was how they knew the Fearlings were winning.

First Lieutenant Bunnymund didn't like to take his bracers off, even on the bare few times he got leave anymore. It seemed he was always active-duty, and he was always required to wear his bracers, and he preferred it to seeing what his warriors saw.

~

Colonel Bunnymund landed on some unknown planet in some unknown star system. The last of his warriors had been killed lightyears back; he hadn't had communication with Pooka or Starmen or even the Lunanoff dynasty in even longer; he was barely hanging on by a thread, thanks only to the First Light tucked away in his ship and the trail that young Lunanoff's ship was leaving in its wake.

He was no longer active duty. There was no warrior pact any more; even if there was, he had run far enough and fast enough that they would have declared him deserted. If there were any left. His bracers were still on.

He left his ship and spent perhaps three hours collecting readings from this planet he had landed on. It seemed uninhabitable, and as he drew a star system map from his calculations he saw it was outside of the system's habitable zone. The Colonel packed up his equipment and left the dusty, red, oxidizing planet behind him.

~

Very shortly Colonel Bunnymund found another planet, closer to the native star. It was well within the habitable zone and, even better, Lunanoff's ship was in orbit around it already. As the Colonel approached, he admired the beautiful egg shape of the planet. When he landed, he sent his report to the Lunanoff ship and then set about making the planet more spherical, so that it would remain in the habitable zone during the next few billion years.

Then he laid down, somewhere in the new continent he had created, and he slept.

He still wore his bracers.

~

It took him barely a millennium to get sick of wearing the bracers constantly. They became uncomfortable, especially when he slept. And he did sleep a lot. To solve this problem, Bunnymund put on his longest-sleeved coat and then took off his bracers. He had no chance to see his words.

He went to sleep again, and this time did not wake for millions of years.

~

Bunnymund did not, in fact, see his words again until after those Russians and the new Tsar dragged him into defending the newly-spherical planet against Pitch Black. Even then it was an accident, blood and engine oil spilling on his arms, and he caught sight of his wrists as he washed up.

Settler.

He jolted in surprise, splashing sudsy water out of the basin. He had expected his wrists to go blank millennia ago with the death of his kind, or at least to begin bearing terrible words like dead or rotting or murdered. But they still bore the familiar phrase, unhelpful as always when nearly 95% of Pooka could be considered a settler of one form or another, just the same as they had since he was a child. For the first time, he considered that he might have been the one in every hundred births with a beloved who was not Pooka.

It was still a familiar phrase, he reminded himself as he put his bracers on again, preparing for battle again. His beloved was still yet to be born.

~

Bunnymund began an annual schedule of peeling back his bracers and his coat sleeves to check his words. They changed as slow as they ever had, once perhaps every three to eight years. They maintained their steady cycle of seven phrases: settler, brown eyes, son, storyteller, younger brother, older brother, and illiterate. His words behaved as he was used to.

It was in the mortals' year 1694, nearly five billion years after the extinction of Bunnymund's kind, that an eighth phrase appeared.

Born by a river.

Bunnymund stared at his wrist in unadulterated wonder, one claw caressing the paler fur in which his words appeared. His beloved had finally been born.

~

After that fateful year, he began checking his words monthly rather than annually, taking off his bracers and sleeves under the light of the full moon. It felt appropriate to share this intimate ritual with an old acquaintance, even if this acquaintance was several hundred thousand kilometers away. His words changed frequently now; new phrases such as brown hair, human, excited, and impatient appeared approximately once or twice a year, interspersed with the old ones. Verbs started to show up; laughing was one, sailing another.

There was one month, when Bunnymund's beloved was approximately three years old, when his words said hungry when he removed his bracers. His heart lodged in his throat, recalling that only two months ago his wrists had read poor, and then he nearly cried with relief when his pale fur blurred, spread into a solid bar, and reformed the phrase younger brother.

~

In addition to watching his words more carefully, Bunnymund began taking longer jaunts up to the surface. His best chance to find his beloved would be in this intermittent stage, when the child was old enough to toddle around outside but young enough to believe in stories like the Guardians. He started at major rivers, the Huáng Hé and Yangtze and Yinesei, the Euphrates and the Tigris and the Gihon,  the Indus and the Mahanadi,  the Missouri and the Colorado and the Rio Balsas, the Amazon and the Anconcagua, the Murrumbidgee and the Warrego. Some, such as the Yukon and the Mackenzie and the Olekma, he saved for the summer.

To his chagrin, his beloved was nearly two and a half years old when the word Christian first appeared, and he started searching in Europe for the first time - the Seine and the Danube, the Thames and the Rhine, the Volga and the Tisza.

But he was a Guardian, and the children of the world depended on him, and Easter was always coming.

~

His words became more specific, changed more frequently, and overall became more helpful. Lives near a pond and sheep herder were more helpful than, say, has a little sister or Quaker (Bunnymund researched for months and still did not know what that word meant). Some seemed unhelpful at first, then provided clues with a little logic: loves borsch in winter suggested that his beloved was of Eastern European ethnicity; making maple candy implied a home in north-eastern North America.

And while Bunnymund kept searching - of course Bunnymund kept searching - he was able to quietly rejoice in his beloved's triumphs - first step, helping to cook, snowball fights - and mourn with his beloved's sorrows - the first time sad appeared, coal for Christmas, first killed lamb, stillborn sibling.

~

He started referring to himself as Aster, even as the other Guardians took to Bunny. A small part of him was worried that when he met his beloved, he would introduce himself with his public name instead of his private one, because he had been Bunnymund, the Pooka without family, for so long.

~

When his beloved was approximately six years old, Aster chose to hide his words only during his busiest season: the two months before Easter, and the Easter run itself. He kept his wrists bare the rest of the year. The other Guardians made only a few comments, of losing clothes and becoming nudist, but they couldn't read the phrases and they didn't ask questions about the changing marks.

Aster finally understood why the other warriors had hated covering their words.

~

His beloved grew older, outgrew belief in the Guardians. Protective appeared frequently, presumably because of the little sister. Some phrases made Aster's heart hurt - first kiss, euphoria, witnesses a public burning. He worried, a little, that his beloved would never be capable of seeing him again, that his beloved would find a nice Christian girl to marry.

And then Aster's words did the one terrible thing for which he had never prepared himself.

They contradicted each other.

~

It was the winter of 1712 and Aster's wrists read blue eyes.

~

Everything seemed to go downhill from that. Aster's beloved appeared to fall upon bad times; the word lonely appeared for the first time, followed in quick succession by invisible and isolated, cold and scared and the silence hurts. Aster kept going up top, searching for his poor beloved; he became snappish and cranky with everyone but the sweetest children. St. North made pointed jokes about having maybe just a tiny dab of chocolate. Toothiana waspishly offered to make him some ashwaghandha tea, to which Aster's ears stiffened with embarrassment and he apologized for his recent behavior.

Aster was self-aware enough to realize that he was able to curb his churlishness with his colleagues only because, in between the depressing phrases, the old ones returned - laughing was common, and so was snowball fights. Storyteller appeared less frequently; Aster worried that it meant his beloved had fewer people willing to listen to the stories he told.

Protective ebbed and flowed for a time. It would appear often during hard winters, and barely at all during mild winters or the other seasons. Perhaps thirty years into this terribly confusing, saddening period, protective became much more common. Aster wondered if his beloved had had a child.

~

Aster never saw brown eyes again, after that heart-stopping moment when blue eyes first appeared. The frequency had been steadily lessening since his beloved's birth. Aster's words had seemed more concerned with what his beloved was doing and feeling than what he looked like.

Blue eyes quickly became one of the five most common phrases on Aster's wrist after that initial appearance, as though to continuously remind Aster that something had irrevocably changed.

~

Other spirits avoided him. He knew why, of course. He had never been very sociable at all during his time on Earth in the first place, and now - just because he could control himself around his fellow Guardians didn't mean he had the inclination to do the same with other spirits.

He never snapped at a mortal child.

He always behaved worse around winter spirits, because he knew it was winter that had so terribly affected his beloved.

~

It was in 1784 when Aster discovered his mistake.

His wrists read flying and he knew his beloved was a spirit.

~

He could only desperately hope he had not run across his beloved yet, in his foul temper.

At least he was the Guardian of Hope.

~

It was 1866 and Aster's wrists read painpainpain.

He tried to keep himself from pulling his ears off, and wondered why anyone had ever thought the words were a blessing.

~

Scared became a common word. So did ashamed and guilty. Aster's mainstays, laughing and making maple candy and snowball fights, dropped in frequency. Protective became one of the most common phrases Aster saw, and he worried for the sharp increase.

His temper frayed further, as other phrases started to crop up, like insomniac and nightmares. Nauseous seemed to be on a biweekly rotation for a period of several months, often accompanied by achy and prone to nosebleeds. Exhausted popped up frequently.

Perhaps five months after that terrible first thought-phrase, painpainpain, came the second: what do I do?

~

Aster still could not find his beloved.

~

It was 1867 and Aster barely set foot in the Warren anymore. The thought-phrases were coming thick and fast, as though a dam had broken - why am I here? and she'll be okay without me and hurthurtpain can I do this? Ordinarily this meant Aster was physically close to his beloved, but he never saw a spirit but for his colleagues.

The spirits had learned to stay away decades ago.

Aster settled on his haunches, staring upstream as the Warrego River tumbled by. It was almost December, time to get the third stage of Easter preparation underway in his Warren. But his wrists read alone alone always alone and he didn't know how much longer his beloved could wait.

~

It was the beginning of 1868 and Aster's thirtieth batch of chocolates was cooling on the table. He started the thirty-first, and caught sight of his words.

I can't, I can't blurred to become why? why does she want this?

Aster closed his eyes in pain, and when he opened them again, he continued with his recipe.

His words blurred again to form ashamed.

~

There was still nearly two months until Easter, and Aster's words flowed rapidly from guilty to who needs an invisible, immature fuckup? to sore to cold cold cold. Aster settled his bracers on his arms, his mouth a firm, tight line and his eyes shiny.

~

It was Easter.

It was Easter and Aster had not looked at his wrists in over two months. He didn't know what they said now, as his eggs marched out of his tunnels. He was afraid to look, to see what new pain his beloved had to face alone. He was afraid, not of his wrists reading murdered like he once was, but of them reading committed suicide.

It was Easter, and Aster jumped out of his tunnel to face the strongest blizzard he'd yet seen on this blue planet. He stared in bewilderment, a strong shudder vibrating through his body, and tried to make sense of the whirling wind and sleet and ice.

It was Easter, and this blizzard reeked of magic, and Aster saw red.

~

"Wait - don't!"

The little winter spirit spun to face Aster, wide eyed and terrified, shepherd's crook clutched desperately in both hands. It glowed blue very faintly and was the main reason Aster could see the spirit's face through the blizzard. A tiny part of Aster's mind wondered how such a tiny body held so much power. Most of his mind was filled with the red-tinted rage.

Aster took a couple steps forward in the shrieking wind and sleet, and the spirit scrambled backwards a corresponding few feet. The snow around his feet seemed to spontaneously turn from hard-packed, icy misery to the powdery fluff that poofed up in clouds at the slightest disturbance.

"Please - please, sorry - "

"Sorry!" Aster roared, advancing further. His voice sounded faint to his own ears, and he wondered how he could possibly hear this spirit over the wind at all. "Sorry won't fix my holiday! Sorry won't help the kiddies who go out in this!"

"I'm sorry - had no choice - "

"I know what seasonals do! This is not no choice!"

The spirit slammed against a fence, one hand letting go of his staff to correct his balance. Aster pressed forward, and the spirit aimed the crook end at Aster, shaft tucked under his arm, blue glow starting to concentrate in the hook. "Please - don't make me - "

Aster roared and lunged.

A bolt of blue ice slammed into his chest.

Aster went sprawling in the snow, thankfully the soft, powdery stuff left in the spirit's wake. It whipped around his face, threatening to smother him. He started to scramble to his feet, and another bolt caught him in the ankle. Aster groped for an egg grenade, rubbing the ankle against the ground to test for frostbite, and -

The spirit hopped up, into a tree just on the other side of the fence -

Aster's bracer got caught in his bandolier, and in his haste he simply tore it off -

The spirit froze the ground between Aster and the tree, as if he didn't know how far Aster could leap in Earth's low gravity -

Aster's wrist caught his eye, a swirling morass of panic, and then -

Then -

His marking coalesced into an intricate, delicate, stylized arrow -

It pointed to the tree.

Aster froze. The spirit leapt out of the tree and was tossed up into the clouds by an updraft. The movement caught Aster's eye, and he watched as the spirit - the spirit? His beloved? - disappeared into the swirling, sleety onslaught of the storm. The arrow moved to follow the spirit's flight path.

Fuck.

~

It was Easter, a day of new beginnings, and Aster had met his beloved for the first time. He had met his beloved and started a fight. He did not know the spirit's name, or the reason behind the storm, or - well, anything but that this was his beloved.

But it was Easter, and so Aster wrestled his emotions aside and threw all of him that was Spring into the storm, to try and mitigate the damage to his holiday and his believers.

~

It was four days after Easter, Aster saw as he checked his instruments with a large mug of liquid comfort - also known as licorice tisane - in hand. Four days after Easter, and he was finally up, recovered from the effort of taming the blizzard and overseeing the egg run, and able to think logically again.

Stars above knew he needed logic.

He dug out his old, half-filled blank book and flipped it open to the ribbon. Then he recorded everything he could remember of the encounter with his beloved.

His beloved had no choice...?

Aster groaned and scrubbed his face. This was going to be about politics, he could tell. No seasonal spirit could start a storm like that and reasonably claim it was the seasons, the weather, driving them to do it. No, this was a magical storm through and through, a contrived, synthetic storm, and the reasoning behind it would be equally contrived, unnatural. Political.

He had always hated politics.

Well, there was nothing for it. Aster flipped to a blank page and started listing spirits who hated him, along with their abilities and their place in spirit society. His beloved may have tried to curry favor with one. His beloved may have needed a boon from one.

Aster drained his mug and squinted at his list. This would only get him so far, and so he settled back to sketch his beloved, perhaps identify him, perhaps take the portraits around to others. Like an officer asking citizens if they'd seen the criminal in the mugshot, he thought bitterly. Like his beloved was a wanted delinquent.

As he worked, bits and pieces of a plan floated to the top of Aster's mind. He noted each bit down in his book as it came, erratically, each piece following the previous with no sequence or logic behind the letters. He could sort through it and finalize a coherent plan later.

For now, though; for now, he had a beloved likeness to capture.

His wrists read storyteller.