#he had the undivided attention of his father for his whole life until that point and now what.

[kaeyapilled]

you can't convince me diluc wasnt at least a little jealous of kaeya when they were younger

[tevanbegins]

To think that Buck's always been bisexual without realising it, checking out hot guys' asses because he thought that's normal. He's crossed paths with many hot guys in his life. He works with hot guys, his BFF is a hot guy. He's been in multiple situations where there have been innuendos thrown at him of his being gay/queer.

But he still never thought much about all of that. Until one day, he met Tommy.

It took one hell of a compelling man like Tommy Kinard for Buck to relentlessly pursue this subconscious attraction till he'd finally had a taste of what it was like, and known for sure that he liked it and wanted more of it.

This is the most obvious indicator that Tommy is not just any other guy. Buck had many choices and chances before to question and explore this part of him, but Tommy is the only one who shook something in the core of Buck's being and made him want it so bad, that he had to keep trying till he got it. The attraction is unlike any he's ever felt before, and not because of the gender of the person, but because of the intensity of his feelings towards him.

Buck wanted Tommy's undivided attention, he wanted to keep spending time with him even if that meant making random excuses, getting to know him better. He couldn't get Tommy out of his head. That's how magnetically drawn he was to Tommy. Tommy's gender is not really a big factor here as most people believe it is, because the key takeaway here is that Buck's never felt this drawn to anyone – girls or guys.

Just because Tommy is his first queer experience, doesn't mean that Buck's using him on a trial basis. That boy's down bad. And that has nothing to do with the novelty of dating a man. It's all got to do with who Tommy is as a person, how patient, caring, and understanding he is, and how happy he makes Buck, making him feel safe and loved in all the ways he's never felt before.

That's the whole point of it. In Tommy, Buck's met someone who could very well be the love of his life. It's just that he never thought it would be a man. For Buck, it's so much more about finding lasting love at this stage, than it is about playing around with this newfound aspect to his sexuality. This is more than a coming out arc. This is a romcom as well, where Buck has finally found true love. He's getting off the hamster wheel for good. His father-figure Bobby and everyone around him can see it.

Tommy is clearly being written as Buck's endgame, and I don't see how anyone in their right mind can be blind to the significance of this storyline. I for one am super-thrilled and optimistic about all the possibilities of Buck and Tommy's romance moving forward! 😍🥰❤

___

[topsytervy]

Home ~ Rafe Cameron

Blurb: After spending a week on a business trip with his dad, Rafe finally comes home

Word Count: 858

Warnings: I don’t think there are any besides the usual spelling/grammar mistakes. Not even a swear. I think this is considered just straight fluff. 

~~~

Rafe sighed as he unlocked the apartment he shared with you, swinging the door open gently before walking inside and dropping his bags off to the side, closing the door with his back as he kicked off his shoes.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door for a minute, loosening his tie. 

Home sweet home.

He'd been away for a week and, in all honesty, it was almost draining being away from you and being with his father for that long. 

Going on a business trip for that long with his father was absolute torture, especially when you weren't there to help calm him down from a stressful day.

Of course, you called him every day to check up on him and he was able to hear your voice which helped to some extent but it just wasn't the same as in-person, with you running a hand through his hair as he vented about his day, pressing kisses to his temple or cheek every so often.

Rafe opened his eyes, relocking the door before heading towards the bedroom

He slowly opened the door to the room you two shared and quietly made his way in, heading straight for the dresser and pulling out a random tee shirt and pair of sweatpants. He changed as quietly as he could, dumping his dirty clothes in the laundry hamper that sat in the corner of the room.

Rafe walked over and closed the door, wincing at the click that seemed a thousand times louder in the quiet room.

His eyes flickered towards you as he heard you shuffling and let out a breath when he realized you were just turning onto your side. He smiled as he looked at your face that was dimly lit from the moon that was out tonight and he sighed as he watched your chest slowly rose and fall with each breath.

His smile widened when he noticed that you were wearing his hoodie, hood up over your head as you cuddled the bear he got you for Valentine’s day that year, which also came with a bottle of his cologne that you could spray the bear, or his clothes, with whenever he was away. 

Rafe lifted the covers and slid into bed carefully, lightly grabbing the bear and removing it from your arms, placing it on his nightstand before slinging an arm around your waist. He carefully pulled you closer to not wake you up and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, feeling all the stress from the trip melt away as he inhaled the scent of your favorite shampoo.

You hummed lightly as you nuzzled impossibly closer to Rafe's body, his body heat instantly warming you. "You're home?" You mumbled, not expecting him until morning. 

"Mhm. I'm home." Rafe answered, closing his eyes.

"How was it?" 

"Let’s not talk about it right now, mkay."

You nodded, guessing that the trip went a bit worse than expected. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder and he felt himself relax even more. “I’m happy your home finally. It felt like the longest week of my life.” You told him.

“Same here, angel.” 

“Can we go to the cafe in the morning and get breakfast there? We haven't been there in a while.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Of course we can, baby. Maybe we’ll even head over to the mainland and have a day there if you want. I know it’s been a while since we’ve gone there and a lot of the shops you love are there. We can even grab a hotel and stay there for the night.” 

“Only if you want to, Rafe.”

“I do. I’ve been gone a week. That’s a whole week that I haven’t been able to spoil you.”

“You don’t have to, baby. I’m perfectly content with just going to the cafe and then returning home.”

“I know but still. I left you for a whole week. I gotta make it up to you.”

“Rafe-”

“Shh, Y/N. Just let me take you out and onto the mainland. This is my way of having you all to myself without the chance of Kie or Sarah stealing you away at some point while we’re out.” He mumbled into your hair.

You smiled, knowing that Sarah and Kie had a bad habit of taking you away from your boyfriend whenever they saw you. “Alright, bubs. We’ll go to the mainland tomorrow then if you want my undivided attention for an entire day with little to no interference.”

Rafe’s arms tightened around you slightly and you felt him smile against your forehead. “That’s all I want, angel. That’s all I ever want. Take note of that for my birthday and Christmas present.”

You chuckled. “Alright. Now go to sleep. You’re exhausted.”

“Proper goodnight kiss first.” 

You tilted your head up and placed your lips against Rafe’s, keeping them there for a couple of seconds before pulling away and tucking your head back into his chest, both of you falling asleep with ease now that you two were back in the same bed.

~~~

[sharkmobster]

more funtime found family au stuff but this time focusing on funtime freddy and michael's relationship. it's incredibly rambly and turns into off-kilter dialogue but i gotta get this off my chest.

tw mentioned child abuse/death

• doesn't actually like michael (at first) even tho i draw them hanging around each other a lot

• bon bon is the only reason he does loaf around him. (bon bon and bonnet being the only ones who like Michael in the beginning.) They're attached to each other so it's inevitable that they would hang around mikey.

• ft freddy plays really mean spirited jokes on michael bc he's not allowed to harm him. he has to get real creative. (ft freddy has a lot of anger inside of him. people write him off as being dumb and goofy but really that's just a mask that he put up so he didn't scare people away. of course the funtimes know how he is, knows who he is right to his core bc they're all connected on a deeper/technological level.)

• (slaps funtime freddy. this bear can fit so much trauma and abandonment issues in him!)

• can be incredibly vindictive when he wants to be and takes out a lot of his agression on Michael. michael shares the afton name (bc he sure as hell doesn't look like william in my au lol) and that alone is enough for ft freddy to bully him.

• (the funtimes blame william for abandoning them so ft freddy takes it especially personal when his ankle biter comes around to "liberate" them. and on some deeper level freddy is just terrified that michael will abandon them all, just like willy did. he never voices this of course. opting to show his apprehension and fear in a more destructive way, pushing Michael further away.)

• canon ft freddy: sinister but still goofy and knows how to have a good time

my ft freddy: goofy and repressed anger issues, doesn't know how to enjoy himself without causing someone some kinda pain.

• michael gets fed up with being terrorized eventually and confronts him, and ft freddy drops the silly act for a bit just ready to blow up at him. (he can't even place why he's still so angry at michael when really he's been nothing but hospitable and accomodating to their wants and needs but fuck he's just so wound up he doesn't know what to do) michael compares him to william during the argument (cruel and vindictive just like william wanted) and ft freddy nearly rings his neck, absolutely seething but bon bon doesnt let that happen of course. (idk if this is confirmed canon but bon bon was designed to placate freddy. he raises his voice even slightly and bon bon's petting his face, stopping him from getting even more agressive)

• ft freddy shuts down after the confrontation ends (emotionally, anyway) and the blow out itself is completely anti climatic, nobody getting hurt. he ends up isolating himself from the others with bon bon hovering around like a concerned mother hen. Baby and the others give him space but michael (after he cools down anyways) won't leave him alone.

• See the thing is: Michael understands. Michael understands more than anyone what it's like to feel so deeply, what it's like to hate and hate and to keep hating until that rage is your whole life. It's suffocating. and he had to deal with that all on his own, choking on his own grief and rage without anyone to guide him. (his brother is dead bc of him and he carries that with him everywhere he goes, in everything he does.)

• They're living in the countryside of France at this point in time, far off from any wandering eyes, a thick forest surrounding their home. Freddy has a few hiding spots that he scouted out within the first few days of staying there. And that's where Michael finds him, hiding out in a small alcove by the a creek, throwing rocks at the trees (and sometimes wildlife).

• freddy doesn't aknowledge him, ignoring him like a child would and bon bon frets nervously between them, not wanting another fight to break out. Michael tells them that he's not here to fight anymore, he just wants to talk. you like to talk, don't you? and freddy doesn't say anything, running his fingers through the dirt, absentmindedly.

• michael asks bon bon to leave so that they can have a private convo and bon bon freaks out like absolutely not, he might hurt you and michael asks freddy directly like "are you going to hurt me?" freddy still isn't talkative, and he's rigid when he shakes his head no after a bit of silence. Bon Bon asks if he's alright with him leaving and freddy just shrugs, still staring at nothing in the distance. bon bon hesitates for a few moments before finally leaving, telling Michael to call out to him if he's in danger but michael rushes him along.

• it's just them now, nothing but the sounds of nature around them. michael asks how he's feeling and freddy shrugs again. Michael strikes up a one sided conversation, stepping closer and closer to him over time not really getting any kinda response out of him but eventually, during his rambling, freddy finally looks at him and says "Y-You just don't get-get it." and then goes back to the silent treatment.

• Michael's quiet, having made his way up to standing right next to freddy (he's only a tiny bit taller than him when he's just sitting like that). he nods his head, considering something for a while until finally he goes "Did I ever tell you about what it was like? Ya know. Being William Afton's golden child?" freddy doesn't say anything but he pauses from drawing circles in the dirt, tilts his head just a fraction to let mikey know he's listening.

• michael stares at the creek. "He wasn't the most outwardly loving father. Wasn't really the nicest one, either. But, I wanted his approval so bad, I'd do anything for it." Freddy slowly turns his head to watch him carefully. that's got his attention. "I did a bunch of stupid shit back then, all cause I wanted to be noticed by him. But all that attention went to my little-" and michael draws in a sudden breath, pained. stays silent for a moment, working up the courage to speak. "I did something awful to my brother. All for my father. And it's an awful thing to say but his death didn't matter. Pops didnt bat an eye and Mom was too far gone by that point after Elizabeth...." he looks back in the direction of the cottage. "Well.... you know what happened to Elizabeth." Freddy's stare is hard and unyielding. "He's gone now and I was the only one who cared enough. His fuckin' abuser cared more for his passing than his own father did."

• "He threw me into the basement. Did you know that?" Michael bounces from one foot to another, anxiety written into his very bones. he's lost in his rambling now, having never spoken these words out loud to anyone. "I killed his son and he locked me away in the dark for three years." Freddy fully turns to give Michael his undivided attention, stock still, hanging off of his every word. "I got out. Eventually. I ran away and lived on the streets for years until someone got a hold of me. Told me my old man was missing, presumed dead. Got a pretty penny from the fazbear business he co-owned with Mr. Emily. Things were going good, I guess. I was overwhelmed for the most part, didn't do anything other than bounce around from hotels every few days. In some way, I felt like he was still out there, watching me. I just kept running. And then i found out about you." He glances at freddy and looks away quickly when he finds an unblinking visage staring back. "Found out about all of you. Locked away in a storage facility for over 30 years. In the dark. All alone." an incredibly long silence stretches out between them, freddy fidgeting, hyperaware of every noise going on around them.

• "You think I don't get it. But I do. I think I understand you more than anyone could." Michael's staring back at him, raw emotion across his face, eyes soft with empathy and that's what makes Freddy turn away from him. Suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't want to fight with you. Not you. Not Ballora, or Foxy, or Eli-" He visibly winces, but regains his composure. "...I just... need you to understand that I want to help."

• Freddy's never been so quiet, and it's such an odd sight. Michael's not sure if he should say anything else or if he should leave the bear alone. the bear speaks up, finally "W-We could've kill-killed you."

• "That was always a possibility, yeah. I woulda deserved it." Freddy's not sure if he likes the way Michael talks about himself sometimes. "I needed to get you guys out of there, though. That was more important than whatever could've happened to me." Michael huffs. "Besides, if I hadn't bailed you guys out then I would've never gone to Paris. Ballora has good taste in real estate, I think." and despite everything, freddy lets out a sudden breath that could've been mistaken for a sensible chuckle. Michael smiles anyway.

• Things settle down afterwards, though there's no bite to Freddy's jokes now. They're not as close as Michael wants, Freddy still keeping his distance, keeping his walls up but it's something.

• Freddy starts watching horror movies with him late into the night and until dawn. Doesn't let Michael sleep in afterwards and he might just regret this but it makes Freddy happy. Things go back to normal in the cottage, as normal as things can be for a motley troupe like them anyways. Michael starts laughing at his jokes more.

[tjlikesprettythings]

@thatwaxlion: Also, wouldn't mind to see a jealous Dani from you! No, I wouldn't mind it all. In fact, I hereby declare my prompt request.

I have answered your request, once again, I should really be working (perks of working from home) but I’m having too much fun writing these so enjoy my friend!

Prompt: Jealous Dani Dani stood beside the window of the Conrad hotel ballroom, scanning the crowd of the charity fundraiser where their suspects are expected to make an appearance. She had to wondered if ever since Bright joined the team they find themselves in these high society events more and more, as if the killers are attracted to his background.

It was no shocker that Jessica Whitly was on the guest-list of this particular fundraising event and so naturally Malcolm and herself were able to get in unnoticed, and Gil offered to escort Jessica. Dani tried to keep her smile from blooming, recalling the look on Jessica Whitly’s face when Gil appeared in his tux, the woman looked like she could use a drink, practically parched from the way her mouth fell open. She had to admit, Gil definitely filled out a tux just fine.

Jessica’s quick recovery was pointed to her next, “Dani, you look absolutely ravishing, gosh that color is fabulous on you.” As she looked her up and down, Dani’s orange full sleeve silk ensemble with the deep V cut and wrapping accent on the waist that framed her body perfectly before billowing out at the hem with a split up the middle, was not only elegant but very alluring. Her Hair was pulled up to a high ponytail completed with some statement gold pieces. She had thanked Mrs. Whitly graciously though she did find the attention a bit uncomfortable. 

What she had failed to notice in her spying of her boss and Whitly matriarch was the way Bright’s eyes swept her from head to toe, if he thought her ensemble to the Taylor wedding was something, then he wasn’t prepared for this. He swallowed the lump in his throat and a familiar burn in his stomach as he walked up to join her.

But that was the point of tonight, to stand out and appeal to their suspects. They deduced that this duo worked in a team of charming couples who targeted wealthy men and women of high society, seduced them, blackmailed them and then cleared up the loose ends by killing them.

JT ran operations from the van, opting to stay out of a ‘monkey suit’ as he put it. Keeping an eye through the security cams and listening in on their comms. She scanned the room filled with guests decked out to the nines and wait staff as they walked the room with wine glasses, champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres. She found herself rolling her eyes, of course rich people made a party of helping the less fortunate. 

She finished her sweep only to find a very attractive brunette talking to Malcolm at the bar, she turned up her comms and listened in. 

“I haven’t seen you in one of these in a while,” She said waving to the bartender for a drink. 

Malcolm chuckled and nodded, “yeah, not really my scene. I only attend when it is absolutely necessary.”

Dani could tell they knew each other, there was a familiarity in the way she spoke to him, “I imagine Jessica is the absolutely necessary factor here.” She teased as she took a sip of her wine. “Well I’m glad that she forced your hand, I’ve been wanting to run into you again.” Dani rolled her eyes again, this woman was obviously not subtle about her motives. 

Dani knew Bright was an attractive man, pair that with the fact that he had millions to his name he would be a catch to most women, she just assumed that he kept to himself because of who he was and of course he didn’t exactly scream fuck boi bro. But She also knew that he could be incredibly charming when he wanted to be, that every time they walked down the street to get back to the precinct or to grab a coffee or tea women would appreciate his style, his features, the fact that he was both welcoming yet dangerous. 

Most of the time she didn’t think about it because she had his full undivided attention, even if he excitedly bumped into someone he’d quickly apologize and turn back to her. She didn’t realize that his attention being occupied by someone who very obviously knew him, and there was a hint of something more would make her feel...uneasy. 

She cleared her throat, to which Malcolm instantly looked in her direction and locked eyes. Shit, she forgot that he could hear her too. She pulled her brows together and scratched the back of her ear, looking away. It was JT who intervened and she decided she owed JT lunch.

“Damn, who knew Bright had game.”

This time Gil cleared his throat from where he was standing with Jessica on the other side of the room. To which JT whispered a “Sorry boss.”

Dani hid her smile behind her hand, as she pretended not to watch him and his yet to be named brunette. She didn’t know why but the way he chuckled and the way her hand reached out to brush the lapel of his jacket just annoyed Dani. Apparently personal space wasn’t a thing for this woman. 

“How is your father doing these days, Alice?” Malcolm asked focusing the subject back to small talk, the kind he detested but what could be done. 

Ah so her name was Alice, Dani scanned the room but really her eyes were focused on the profiler, what was the point of this exchange anyway, they were here to do a job, not to flirt and catch up. She didn’t know where her attitude was coming from and that added to her annoyance.

Alice shifted uncomfortable and shrugged as she pushed some of her hair behind her shoulder, “You know the usual, making sure to control every aspect of my life. He wants me to get married and settle down, I’m not good enough for the family business but I certainly can help it with an advantageous union.”

Dani just scoffed which earned her another look from Malcolm but there was something in his smile as he turned towards Alice. “How very antiquated of him, I’m sure he sees that your charms could be put to better use.”

Alice beamed at him again, eyes hooded as she took a step closer, “that’s for sure, you want to revisit how charming I can be?” She whispered close to his ear.

Malcolm smiled but his eyes were on the stand out beauty in orange across the room. He was enjoying Dani’s very apparent uneasiness in his re-acquaintance with Alice. Alice had gone to the same boarding school as him. While most kids didn’t bother with him after his father, Alice like Vijay was willing to be his friend.

“I know you can be...charming, but better be on my best behavior tonight.” Malcolm said as he took a step back from her. Alice can also be very pushy as he recalled. 

Alice just chuckled, “You have to admit, we used to have a lot of fun. Sure you don’t want to just disappear for a bit, this party is a bummer anyway...”

Dani’s mind instantly wandered to his ‘I’ve had sex, plenty of sex’ and even then she was a bit uncomfortable by his confession, now she was very uncomfortable by this whole exchange. Did this woman have no boundaries? The man said no, just leave it alone and have some self respect.

JT chimed in again, “Well damn bro…again who knew you had this much game!”

“Don't take game, if it’s being practically thrown at you,” she found herself mumbling before she realized what she was saying, to which she heard JT snicker. 

“Savage Dani…”

She cleared her throat, “can we focus on the task at hand instead of Bright’s sex life.” It was as if she lost all control of herself as she walked over to the bar, making sure that there was an extra sway to her hip when she approached them.

“Hi,” she found herself say as she stood beside Malcolm, looking innocently between Malcolm and Alice. 

Malcolm caught off guard only for a second smiled and introduced her to Alice, since she wanted to play this game, he figured why not. He didn’t much enjoy these things but this would be the exception if he could rile Dani up just a bit. “Alice, this is Dani.” He said as his hand seamlessly wrapped around Dani’s small waist, the dress she wore left both little and a lot to the imagination. He could feel the warmth of her body through the silk. 

Dani’s heart thumped, as she fell into her role, “Alice, very nice to meet you.”

Alice eyed Dani up and down and then finally she smiled, “Ah so this is the reason you are on your best behavior.” Alice didn't seem to care for decorum in this situation, behaving like a true spoiled heiress, Dani thought, this kind of behavior in the Bronx would not be tolerated even if you were a strong independent woman. 

Dani narrowed her eyes then smiled, really she felt like she had no control over her actions because the next thing she knew she was saying, “only until we get home.”

Malcolm’s eyes widened slightly as he cleared his throat, “Alice you’ll have to excuse us, I see my mother and I know she was asking for Dani earlier.”

Alice’s red lips curved up as she nodded, “well what do you know Malcolm Whitly is officially off the market, many a heart will be broken to know this. Nice meeting you Danielle.” She said as she walked away. 

Dani’s hands fisted at her side, no one called her Danielle. When she felt the gentle squeeze of his fingers on her waist as he released her, Dani suddenly came to herself. She closed her eyes and waited and on que, JT was laughing in her ear. 

“Well that’s one way to take care of that.” Gil said as he watched the whole exchange. Jessica on the other hand seemed to have enjoyed the show very much, even if she couldn’t hear anything, she got the gist of the situation. There was something so very normal and charming about women bickering over her handsome son.

Dani cleared her throat and scrunched her face, “sorry, thought this would make the point.”

Malcolm licked his lips and squinted at her, “what was the point again?” He wasn’t sure before but now he could clearly see it...she was jealous...to some extent anyway.

Dani pressed her lips together, and drew her brows in, WHAT was the point? Why was she in his business anyway. But to save face she simply shrugged, “to get back to work, you know look for the killers.” She rolled her eyes as if to say ‘duh’ but internally she was screaming with embarrassment, this is not how she behaved normally. She blamed Malcolm Bright for this.

Malcolm bit his lip to keep from laughing, he honestly was enjoying this too much, and her annoyance making his heart leap with joy, because that meant she was jealous. Something about Dani being jealous for him even if it was irrational and primitive made him feel...good. It brought to their relationship another layer, it gave him...hope.

[mrs-nara-shikamaru]

ABC Fluff- Shikamaru Nara

A/N- I’m late, I know his birthday was yesterday. However, this took me longer than I expected. Thank you to @sparkleswritings and Laura for helping! @briar-alexandra for helping beta read for me!

A = Affection (how affectionate are they in day to day life? Do they show affection publicly or keep that more in private?)

In public, Shikamaru keeps his display of affection on the subtle side. At the beginning of the relationship, he is hesitant to even hold your hand. Sometimes when he is feeling possessive he will keep a steady hand on your back or loosely hanging around your waist. In private, it's a whole different story. Man lives to cuddle and nap with his S/o. A big thing that becomes tradition is 'hello' and 'goodbye' smooches. Its something he looks forward too when going to see you. 

B – Best (What would they say is the other’s best trait?)

One of the things he loves most about his S/o is the way their eyes light up. Whether it's eating a cake from the new shop down the street or when they're receiving flowers from him. Their eyes ever so slightly widen and begin to change into a lighter iris while a smile grows of their face. A simple smile that causes his heart to flutter. 

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

It just depends on the situation and where you guys were at. Some nights your back can be against his chest with his arms secured tightly around your waist. Other times, you'll be at his favorite napping spot, curled against his side as the soft breeze sweep across the grass. Shikamaru doesn't have a favorite way to cuddle. As long as he can hold his S/o while their snuggling against him. 

D = Dream (What do they dream of with their S/o?)

Shikamaru wants to grow old with his S/o. He wants to live lazily with them, waking up late in the morning. It's a simple dream of his. Shikamaru wants to share intimate moments with them, show them a side of him that no one else will know. Which will be their little secret. He wants to be able to let down his guard while let go of his duties without worries. Shikamaru sometimes dreams of their future with little ones. Waking up to their children peaking in the room wondering if their parents were awake or coming home to see his S/o and kids making dinner together. 

E – Early (What was the first month of dating like?)

The first month of dating was a little awkward more so for him than you. Shika hadn't been in a relationship prior, he was still learning. He didn't have a positive outlook at relationships always thinking they were a drag. This man would watch his words, not wanting to upset his S/o. He would observe them seeing what they disliked and liked. Lowkey would ask Ino for help when deciding on flowers or other gifts. Any concerns he had, Shikamaru would express them to Choji or Asuma rather than you. Early on it's difficult to see how soft Shikamaru is for his S/o but his friends know how devoted he is. This man would skip a nap or two for his S/o. 

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Everyone close to him knew he was in love before he did. It would show in the way his eyes soften seeing his S/o out in the streets. He figured it out for himself when he realized how addicting it was to be in their presence. How every time they spoke, he gives them his undivided attention or how his napping spot was more lonesome without them. 

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He is so soft for his S/o. The tone of his voice is gentler when addressing them. Shikamaru doesn't use 'what a drag' as often when they ask something of him or when they're around. It often shows when Shikamaru interrupts you to brush your hair behind your ears before leaning forward grazing your lips with his. 

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Holding hands depends on his mood. Sometime he will have his hands in his pockets while his S/o is loosely hanging off his arm. Other times, Shikamaru takes your hand, and firming interlocks your hands together. Almost like he's scared to lose you. Palms pressed tightly together. There are times where you can be walking down the street with him, swing your hand while fingertips are loosely intertwined. 

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Honestly, the first impression was a mix of 'troublesome women' and 'what a drag'. Shikamaru didn't expect much from someone he just bumped into as you were apologizing for not watching where you were going. He wasn't going to see you again most likely and went on his way to his napping spot. Little did he know.  

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Honestly, this is a tough one. Shikamaru trusts his S/o so much that getting jealous is just too much of a drag. He doesn't expect you to get jealous and he has no reason to be. Of course, if someone isn't backing off after you've told them too, he will step in. But it would take a lot to make Shikamaru jealous. 

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

This is no surprise but his kisses are lazy. Soft, maybe, chaste kisses. Though there are moments where Shikamaru will kiss them like he'll lose them or they might disappear from his life. Coming back from a mission, he will give his S/o a passionate kiss saying 'I'm home' or a goodbye kiss promising 'I'll come back.' The first kiss was all him. You were chatting away while he rests in your lap. It was a subconscious decision while he gazing up at you. The breeze making your hair float in the wind. His hand gently placed on your face, bringing you down till your lips descended upon his. His lips brushed yours, softly and delicately like you were going to fade away. It was long enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, confirming you were here to stay. 

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

It was you. You two would be cuddling on the couch, just lovely staring at him as he was napping. Shikamaru opens one eye to give you a questioning look. "Is something the matter?"

"Hm?" You gave him a simple smile. "No." He closes his eye. "I just thinking about how much I love you." It took him a moment before he jolts with reddened cheeks. 

M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)

Teaching you how to play shogi might be one of his favorites. He can't help but laugh as you were stressing about your next move, looking at him for confirmation that you moved a knight the right way. The way you pout every time he wins as you declare that you'll win the next round. 

N – Nicknames (Things they call each other) 

Yours: Princess, Troublesome, Brat

His: Handsome, Shika, My love, Sir (if we're getting spicy)

O – One (Tell us about the moment they realized they were with the one.)

When it hit him that his S/o was the one is after coming home from a mission. He had walked through the door, the air was a familiar smell of his mother's cooking. All Shikamaru wanted to do was go to sleep until he heard the familiar chime of his S/o laugh only to find his father teaching them how to out strategize him in shogi and his mother nagging them to finishes up since he was home. You look up from the board, smiling brightly. "Welcome home, Shika!" 

P = Planning (How are dates planned out? What do they do? Where do they go?)

Dates with Shikamaru go two ways. Meaningful and romantic or casual and lazy. The first one is something that is planned, more an anniversary dinner or trip. It usually is an occasion in which he puts a lot of effort into it. The second one is how dates normally happen. Shika will take you down for a walk around the Nara forest or you talk him into going to a festival with you. This could also mean going out to eat only to have Ino and Choji joining you guys not realizing it was a date. Ino is mortified when she finds out.

Q = Quirks (Little things they do in the relationship)

Shikamaru will bring you flowers randomly when stopping by the Yamanaka's flower shop. He could be talking to Ino about a mission and stare at roses while thinking about you. Ino notices and gives them to him, insisting he doesn't have to pay. He checks up on his S/o once a day, if you guys haven't had time to spend together. 

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Sleep. He likes listening to the rain while drifting off. Once in awhile, he might read a book. 

S – Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

One of the quickest ways to turn him to mush is letting him sleep on your lap while you comb through his hair, singing/humming to yourself subconsciously. He lives for the quiet moment with his S/o. 

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Shikamaru is more of a listener than a talker. He loves to hear about your day when settling for the night. Hearing his S/o softly chatter about the adventures they had is soothing to him. Some nights, he talks about the future with you. Talking about where you wanted to travel too, when you want to marry, how many kids you would have or what kind of house would you wanna grow old with him in. 

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

When he can be an old man in peace without anyone nagging at him. Watching his clouds and napping the day away. However, he isn't opposed to having a relaxing meal with his S/o and best friend. 

V – Vanity (Something they’re proud of in themselves and their partner)

The ability to settle an argument calmly. Shikamaru isn't a fan of being yelled at or yelling. It's all just a drag and exhausting. He also likes to keep it between the two of you. What the disagreement is about isn't anyone else business. He's proud of the fact that you two can sit down and talk it out. If the argument gets too heated, you guys stop and separate to calm down before resuming. 

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

He did it casually. Shikamaru talks about it with you beforehand. Asking if you wanted to get married or wait another year. You knew he was going to propose, there wasn't a point in hiding it much to his mother and Ino's demise. He didn't tell them about it beforehand, not wanting to get nagged over it. Hearing you laugh about it while getting fitted for a ring was enough unless you wanted something different. The wedding on the other hand wouldn't be a courthouse wedding like everyone thought.  

X = Xperience? (Experience in romance?)

Shikamaru has no experience previous to his relationship with his S/o. The man has only seen how Asuma and his dad act. He occasionally asks Ino for help. 

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Absolutely. You both don't want to rush into the marriage but it's a topic that is often discussed before bed. 

Z = Zoo (Are animals apart of the present/future)

Shikamaru is indifferent about having a pet. If his S/o wants one and understands how much work it will be, they can go ahead. If you do get one, he has a soft spot for it. The deers in the forest are also something that will become a responsibility after marrying him. 

[itachi-uchiha-deserved-better]

There were seven of them gathered in the tent that was serving as the temporary council chamber while the leaf village was being rebuilt. Kakashi sat at the head of the circular table, looking uncomfortable in the position of authority that had been thrust upon him in Tsunade’s absence. Next to Kakashi on his left was Shikaku Nara, with Shikamaru seated next to his father. On Kakashi’s right side sat Gai, Yamato, Naruto and then finally there was Sakura, sitting opposite Kakashi, wondering when in the hell she had become important enough to warrant an explicit invitation to a council meeting.

The elders, Sakura noted, were not in attendance. Kakashi had placed both of them under guard since Danzo’s treachery at the five Kage summit came to light. It didn’t really come as much of a surprise to Sakura that the Jonin of the village were hesitant to trust them with matters of importance.

Kakashi fiddled with his pen, as he seemed to search for the best way to approach whatever it was that was important enough for him to call a council meeting in the first place. He kept shooting Yamato glances, which Yamato always answered with a quirked eyebrow or a shake of the head, like there was a silent discussion going on between them. Sakura watched the exchange with fascination as she doodled on the note pad in front of her.

“Fine.” Kakashi growled, ending whatever argument he and Yamato were apparently having, “I guess we ought to just get on with it.” He took a breath, put the pen down very carefully, so that it was sitting perfectly straight in front of him. He swept his gaze around the room, locking eyes with each person who sat at the table in turn.

“You know I’m not the type to do things as officially as they should be done. Were it not for the delicate nature of this matter, I’d have left it for Tsunade to deal with when she recovers. Unfortunately, this is a matter that won’t wait until our Hokage is back on her feet.”

The air in the room seemed to grow still and heavy with tension. Everyone seemed to pick up on the carefully chosen words Kakashi used. Our Hokage. Not him. He had no desire to lead them. When Tsunade wakes up. Because none of them wanted to consider the other outcome.

“As you know, Yamato and I were present for the majority of the 5 Kage summit. I believe everyone here has read our reports regarding the proceedings of the summit and Danzo’s attempt at treason. That is not what we are here to discuss. This meeting is in regards to what happened before our arrival at the summit location. About information intentionally withheld from the official reports.”

Sakura observed the room. A large part of her medical training had focused on sharpening her observational skills. Teaching her to pick up on subtle changes around her, so that she can make decisions with the most information possible. So her keen gaze immediately picks up on the way that Shikaku straightened up in his chair as Kakashi admits to withholding information from the official documentation of their mission. She notes how Shikamaru’s gaze snaps to Naruto’s face, then to hers, trying to read the situation the same way that she was. She can almost visualize tangible waves of tension rolling off of Yamato and the worried look that Gai is giving her Sensei. It seemed that he had at least some inkling of what was going on.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure that this information should be shared with anyone. The source is questionable, but Yamato and I agree that given the potential ramifications for the village if the information we’ve been given is accurate, that at least the people in this room need to be aware of it.”

More glances shot around the table. Naruto at Sakura. Sakura at Yamato. Yamato and Gai at Kakashi. Shikaku and Shikamaru at all of them. The silence in the room swelled until Shikaku quietly prompted Kakashi, “please continue.”

“Itachi Uchiha.”

The name sent a shockwave through the room. White hot anger flared in Sakura. Itachi. Sasuke’s older brother. The shinobi who had murdered his entire clan in cold blood, who had tried to kidnap Naruto, who was directly involved with the organization that had killed Gaara, that had destroyed Konoha and caused so much pain to the person that she loved. Even if he didn’t love her back, Sakura could never forgive Itachi for the pain he inflicted on Sasuke.

Naruto was shrinking in his seat, like the name was a heavy weight descending on his shoulders. Shikaku and Shikamaru were both now sitting straight backed in their seats, giving Kakashi their undivided attention. Only Yamato and Gai remained impassive.

“What about the Uchiha?” Shikaku asked as the impact of the name started to settle.

“It seems that there is much more to Itachi’s actions than the village was initially lead to believe. Our information indicates that Itachi held no grudge against his clan. That his crimes, while heinous, were carried out under direct order from village leaders.”

Shikamaru laughed, the sound breaking through the tension like a paper bomb exploding in Sakura’s ears, “You must be joking. You can’t honestly believe that Lord Third would have allowed-“

Shikaku grabbed Shikamaru’s arm, and shooting him a sharp look to silence him.

Kakashi sighed, “I understand your skepticism. Like I said, Yamato and I don’t trust the source of our information, but given Danzo’s treachery and how long that was allowed to go on unnoticed, I don’t think we can dismiss anything outright. By the same token, none of this is to leave this tent. Until we are able to verify or disprove the claim, I want to keep this thing quiet.”

Shikamaru huffed, but Shikaku nodded thoughtfully, “Kakashi, you were his Anbu captain at one point. You probably know the most about Itachi of anyone present. Do you believe it’s possible that he was manipulated into massacring his clansmen?”

Sakura expected Kakashi to answer immediately. The entire thought of the village ordering a man to kill his entire clan was ludicrous.

Wasn’t it?

But Kakashi didn’t answer. One minute passed in silence and still Kakashi was sitting there, glaring down at his pen, unable to answer Shikaku’s question. It was Yamato who eventually spoke up.

“I served alongside Itachi on team Ro. Speaking frankly, I could never wrap my head around it. The Itachi I knew wasn’t capable of harboring that much hatred. Even with the proof right in front of our eyes, I couldn’t make sense of it.”

Sakura breathed in a sharp breath of surprise. Neither Kakashi or Yamato ever really spoke about their Anbu days, so she had been completely ignorant of the fact that they’d both been on a team with Itachi, much less been friends with him.

Did Sasuke know?

Kakashi nodded his head, “I agree with Yamato, Itachi Uchiha’s actions never made sense to me. I accepted that I must have missed the signs back then and once everything was said and done, I tried my best not to think about it. About him. He was my teammate, and I had failed him. But if this is true, then I failed him even worse than I ever could have believed.” Kakashi hung his head and Sakura could see how much this pained him. She could only imagine what he felt, having this ghost of his past being dragged back up to the surface, especially after so much recent pain and loss.

“Regardless of my and Yamato’s personal feelings about the man, there are other factors which lead us to believe that at least parts of the information we were given are true. Danzo did possess a number of Sharingan, including an eye that we can confirm belonged to Shisui Uchiha, who supposedly committed suicide by the Naka. Itachi was, at the time, suspected of murdering his cousin.”

Another pause, as Kakashi allowed the information to sink in. Shikaku was nodding his head in recognition of the name. Shikamaru was studying his father closely. Sakura could hear Naruto grinding his teeth in frustration.

“Alright,” Shikaku tapped his finger on the table, “Lets have it then. The whole story.”

Kakashi obliged, and slowly the story came out, with Yamato jumping in when it seemed that Kakashi was struggling to find the right words. About the plan for a coup d'etat that had been brewing within the Uchiha clan. The orders to spy on the Uchiha, to monitor them for signs of rebellion. Itachi’s assignment to team Ro, and his early promotion to captain under Danzo. About the death of a man named Shisui, who according to this had thrown himself off a cliff only after Danzo had stolen one of his eyes. The coup coming to a head, and Hiruzen asking Itachi to buy time to find a better solution than annihilation, and Itachi being approached later by Danzo, with a promise- that Itachi could ensure his little brother’s survival if he singlehandedly stopped the coup. The implication that if Itachi refused, Danzo would ensure the clan’s destruction, Sasuke and Itachi included.

The clan’s lives for Sasuke’s life. That was the deal that was put forth. And Itachi had accepted.

But it was the final bit of the story that chilled Sakura to her core.

“Hiruzen was aware of Itachi’s orders. While he may not have issued them himself, if our source is to be believed, he also made no effort to intervene. Its true that the Uchiha massacre solved the problem of the coup d'etat once and for all. But the only way it ended without anyone losing faith in Hiruzen was for Itachi to shoulder the blame. If he’d remained in the leaf village, Hiruzen would have been forced to punish him for the massacre. So instead, Hiruzen let Itachi leave the village, left the barrier jutsu formula intact so that Itachi could come and go as long as he remained hidden, and Itachi decided to join the Akatsuki. Not as a missing-nin, but as Konoha’s spy.”

Shikaku hummed, nodding his head, “I never was able to come up with a good reason why Hiruzen left the barrier jutsu formula alone. I assumed he believed that Itachi must not have any more reason to target the leaf, but even then when word came that Itachi had joined the Akatsuki, he ought to have changed it.”

“Right,” Kakashi was rubbing at his temple, probably fighting off a headache. He’d had a number of those since his brush with death at the hands of Pein.

“There are piece that add up. The barrier formula. The fact that the leaf village always had more intelligence on the Akatsuki and their movements than the other villages did. Danzo’s possession of the Uchiha eyes, Shisui’s eye especially. But there are also pieces I cant explain. Like why that bastard locked me in a seventy two hour genjutsu that almost killed me. And the only person who could confirm any of this, as far as I know, has been dead for three years.”

Gai said something in response to that, but Sakura had stopped listening, their voices fading to the background as something started to click in her head.

Konoha’s spy.

Had to stay hidden.

Could come and go as he pleased.

Her mind was spinning. Recalling strange orders issued by Tsunade. Treating a shinobi outside the hospital. Not allowed to use her healing chakra at all, only basic medical skills. The threat of being stripped of her rank as a shinobi if she disobeyed. A strange Anbu who never spoke. Who suppressed his chakra at all times. Who had eerily familiar eyes that always seemed to be filled with something she could never hope to understand.

“Sakura? Sakura are you alright?” Naruto’s hand was on her shoulder, shaking her gently. Tenzo and Kakashi were both watching her with concern, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The name. Recognition like a bolt of lightning struck her and Sakura stood up so quickly that she sent her chair flying back with a crash.

She felt like she was going to explode. Every eye in the tent was on her, waiting for some kind of explanation for her sudden reaction. How on earth could she not have put it together earlier? Then again, she’d never been given any reason to suspect that Ghost, the strange anbu operative in the blank mask was Sasuke’s older brother.

Tsunade. Tsunade must have known. Her orders were to protect Ghost’s identity, because if Sakura had felt his chakra, even for an instant, she would have recognized the similarities to Sasuke’s, and there was only one other Uchiha left in the world. So many thoughts were crashing around inside Sakura’s mind. Anger. Anger at Ghost…Itachi…for lying to her, even if he had no other choice. It wasn’t like she would have ever helped him before if she knew who he was. She’d have been the first person to turn him in, no matter how much kindness he’d shown her. Anger at Tsunade, for allowing the farce to continue, despite knowing that Itachi had made the only choice he could have. Anger that Hiruzen, for failing to intervene and stop all the pain that the massacre caused. For Sasuke, and for Itachi.

Her eyes met Kakashi’s steady gaze. Her sensei, always so adept at reading what troubled her, waited patiently for her mouth to catch up to her mind.

“You knew?”

“No.” Not a lie. She hadn’t known, “But I’m pretty sure this is the truth. I…” gods above how did she even begin to explain it all? To explain about Ghost, his strange behavior, the bizarre connection they shared.

Tenzo was her saving grace. He seemed to have put some of the pieces together himself.

“The Anbu? The one you told me about?”

Sakura nodded and sank back down into her chair, hugging her arms into herself. The eyes of the group moved off of Sakura, looking to Tenzo for more information.

“Earlier this year, Sakura confided in me about a patient of hers. She wanted to know if I was aware of an Anbu agent whose mask was blank, no markings at all. She told me that Tsunade had asked her to treat him and that the arrangement came with some unusual orders which had her uncomfortable.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, “Are you referring to-“ Kakashi cut off, but Tenzo nodded, clearly understanding the question. Shikamaru grumbled.

“Care to explain for those of us who can’t read your mind?”

“Ghost,” Tenzo shot back, “It’s a…well for lack of better terms, it’s a ghost story that exists among the Anbu. A few years back a few genin claimed they were saved by an Anbu agent in a blank white mask, who slaughtered the enemy shinobi who were attacking them and then disappeared without a trace. No one believed them, but since then all kinds of stories about the faceless mask have popped up. Most of them are incredibly far fetched, but there are elements that remain consistent throughout. Black hair. Always alone. Never leaves any survivors except for leaf shinobi. Only fights with Kunai and a tanto, never jutsu. At least, none that anyone ever sees. I didn’t think anything of it, but when Sakura mentioned her patient to me, I did some digging. There is a file for an Anbu agent, codename Ghost, but there’s no serial number on the file, and everything in it was encoded.”

Kakashi sighed, “It’s not proof, but that seems pretty damning.” Apparently Kakashi didn’t have any better explanation that Sakura did.

“In that case, there are a few things to address. First and foremost, it is very likely that Sasuke has also been made aware of the fact that his brother acted under orders. I don’t think he knows about Itachi’s identity as an Anbu operative, but we need to be prepared because I’m not sure what kind of effect this information will have on him. The last I knew, Sasuke’s sole focus was on killing his brother for revenge. It’s quite possible that his desire for revenge will shift to target the village, or at least those he feels most responsible for Itachi’s actions.”

Everyone in the tent nodded their agreement.

“The second question is one of what to do about Itachi himself.”

This time no one nodded. It was a momentous question.

“Are you sure we need to do anything at all?” Shikaku asked, trying to be as gentle with the question as possible. Tenzo slammed his hand down on the table and looked like he wanted to throw himself at Shikaku.

“Of course we have to do something! He’s a leaf shinobi! He’s put his life in danger for the past nine years, alone, hated by everyone in order to protect the village. He deserves to know that he isn’t being held responsible for being forced to make an impossible choice when he was thirteen fucking years old!”

“Easy, Tenzo,” Kakashi seemed to be doing his best to keep his tone level, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him while they sorted things out, “You know that I want to see him again as much as you do, as a friend. But we need to consider what’s best for the village. At the least, I don’t think we need to come to a decision right now. Our first priority is to rebuild the village itself. When Tsunade wakes up, I’m sure she’ll have something to say on the matter.”

Sakura clenched her fist and felt her chakra start flowing into them out of instinct. You better believe that she’ll have something to say. I’ll make sure of it.

She pushed herself up from the table. She needed to hit something. Needed to break something. And if she didn’t leave now, she couldn’t be sure what exactly it was she was going to break. Better safe than sorry.

“Sakura? Going somewhere?”

“For a walk,” She hissed, daring anyone to try and stop her as she stormed out of the tent.

[angeldarkness95]

Open Wounds

Summary: You and Loki are friends, but one night while drunk both of you open yourselves up to each other about things that nobody else knows about you... Until tonight.

Warning: flying cusswords and talks of abandonment.

This is my first piece on here so please be gentle and enjoy 🙂

m/n: mother’s name

It was 5 years to the day that Loki lost Frigga, the most important woman in his life. Loki often wanted to be left alone all the time, but especially on the anniversary of her death. You’re invited to the Stark tower because Tony knew you could help Loki; he seemed more aggressive and shouty than usual and everybody else was just getting fed up and annoyed; all their attempts for him to snap out of the funk bit the dust and just made him more pissed off and bitter. 

You arrived at the tower with the fixings for bloody Mary’s (including some Asgardian mead, courtesy of Thor)  and your homemade crab Rangoon's you knew Loki loved very much. You called up Tony so he could let you into the building. “you know Y/n you’re here so often maybe I should make you your own badge so you can come in any time you need without me having to buzz you in” “That would be nice, thank you” You smile to him as the door opens.

“Loki still in his room?” Tony just nods, but before you leave up the stairs to his room he gently grabs your arm and you look up at him. “please be careful y/n, I’m still finding it hard to trust him and I don’t want you to get hurt” you smile again gently “I’ll be okay, I promise” he nods, but still has a worried expression on his face.

You approach Loki’s door, you take a deep breath and knock 

“Go away you mewling quim” he spits out, shamelessly turning you on a bit.

“It’s me, y/n, I come with offerings”

He opens the door, eyes bloodshot with a look of pissed off-ness and agony

“What do you want?” he spits out

“I know you want to be left alone, but I wanted to be here for you tonight” 

his expression softened up a little while keeping his guard up. He opens the door more and beckons you in to close the door. He was reading what looked like an old book about vampires, you set everything down on a table in his room.

“What sort of offerings did you bring y/n”

“I brought freshly made crab Rangoon's and the stuff to make bloody Mary’s” 

“mmm two of my favorite Midgard things” he hummed in approval, but still seeming pissed off

You started making the drinks while Loki was eating. 

“So, how’s your week been?” You ask while sitting down next to him, you look at him, undivided attention while trying to get a read on how he’s feeling.

“Fine” he practically growled at you. You nod and things stay quiet for a while. You decide to turn on some funky music to get into a better mood, maybe even dance with him

“Y/n what are you doing”

“I wanna dance, what does it look like?” You grind on him a bit, he forces a smile, but tries to hide it and turns the music off

“y/n maybe a bit later ok?” You nod sad but understandingly

*5 drinks later*

things get quiet again and he seems to have gone back to his silent thoughts

“Listen, Lo if you ever need someone to talk to I’m always here, and..” before you could say any more he lost it.

*he bangs a fist on the table* 

“HERE IT FUCKING COMES, YOU ONLY WANTED TO BUTTER ME UP SO I’D SPILL MY GUTS, MAYBE EVEN MY HEART OUT TO YOUR PATHETIC ASS... I’M PERFECTLY FINE YOU DAMN QUIM! ACTUALLY, YOU WANNA KNOW THE TRUTH? FIIIIIINE! I HAD THE SHITTIEST UPBRINGING I’VE EVER KNOWN, THE ONLY ONE WHO TRULY UNDERSTOOD ME WAS FRIGGA AND SHE’S DEAD BECAUSE OF ME! I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO GO TO HER FUNERAL, I WAS HARSH AND VILE, MY LAST WORDS TO HER HAUNT ME STILL TO THIS DAY! I SAID THINGS THAT I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TAKE BACK, I WAS THE WORST SON SHE, OR ANYBODY COULD ASK FOR! AND ANOTHER THING, ODIN WAS RIGHT FOR KEEPING MY IDENTITY HIDDEN OF WHAT I TRULY AM, BECAUSE I AM A FUCKING MONSTER!”

He was so mad his Jotun form temporarily came out for a moment, the sudden outburst shakes you to your core, the usually soft man yelled at you, you knew he would often yell at other people, but never you, until tonight. You’re shaken and your eyes want to tear up because you know that pain all too well.

You stand up to look the man before you, shaking, scared but understanding, your heart breaks after hearing Loki’s last words he had yelled out. You tried to bring your hand to his face, but he dodged the gesture.

“Loki, you are not the only one with a fucked up upbringing”

“Y/n is that supposed to make me feel better?!” he seethed

“No, it’s the goddamn truth” you said, trying to fight back tears and flashbacks as hard as possible, but to no avail. “at least you had a mother that gave a flying fuck about you! I don’t even have that!”

He takes a sharp inhale “then lets see who had a more fucked up upbringing, shall we?” still fuming mad, just more quiet than his yelling a few minutes ago. At this point the drinks starting to wear off for him.

“My birth was a mistake, my own mother didn’t want me, she didn’t even want my dad to know she was in labor so she could lie to him and say that I died or just to be able to leave me to be someone else’s problem, luckily my grandmother, my dad’s mother was notified as soon as m/n was at the hospital in labor, about to give birth to their only child. My dad couldn’t initially be there for my birth because he was about fifty or more miles away, he hauled ass to the point where he got a speeding ticket but was able to be there sometime after.

“Oh boo hoo you you were a mistake, big whoop”

“that’s not even close to the whole story Loki, sit your ass down” you roll your eyes to him. 

“My dad talks m/n into keeping me, despite how she feels towards me, everything is fine for a while, until around the age of three to five years old she decided she’d had enough of me and/ or my father and she snapped. It was late at night, she turned to me and my dad and essentially said she couldn’t do “this” anymore, even I'm not too sure what she meant, but she asked me a question you should never have to ask a child. She asked me if I wanted to stay with my dad or go with her, I chose to stay with my dad and she walked out the front door right in front of us, just left like I didn’t mean a goddamn thing to her.” You could tell Loki was about to interject but you put a finger up to his lips.

“I’m almost done, I promise” you pleaded to him, sorrow coating his expressions.

“years later me, m/n and my dad started working things out, m/n actually wanted to be apart of my life, things were looking up, things were actually ok...” you looked up to pause and see Loki’s expression, for a moment there was hope on his face, but sadly it was gone as quick as it came. “until I turned 9, for some reason m/n stopped wanting to see me, wouldn’t even talk to me or my dad, everybody was puzzled, until the winter came. I had gotten a letter from m/n” you take a shaky breath as you recall what the letter said.

“y/n this will be the last time you ever hear from me. I’m letting you go, you were and continue to be the biggest mistake of my life, I should never have had you, much less taken you home the night you were born, I wish you died so I wouldn’t have had the burden of being your mother. 

“that part always hurt the worst, after my grandma telling me that I did actually almost die the night I was brought into this world." "P.s. leave me the hell alone, I do not wish to be found, especially not by you." "I ripped that letter to shreds, but I still remember every word, every thought and emotion that raced in my head and in my heart, from that day forward I knew I would never be loved, because if my own mother couldn’t even love me, then how could I expect anybody to love me?”

You closed your eyes at the buildup of tears and every emotion that still haunted you from that damned letter, you start to fall when you feel strong hands catch you, you look up to see those gorgeous light blue oceanic eyes that were Loki’s. All the rage that was originally in his eyes had been replaced by sorrow. 

“y/n I had no idea anybody could go through this amount of pain, much less a Midgardian for Odin’s sake! No offense but I thought you Midgardians were so weak but my gods I have no idea how you’ve survived for so long”

“No offense taken” you force a soft smile.

Loki gave you a strong hug, you were probably hugging for a while but it only felt like a minute, you were holding onto each other for as long as either of you needed the other person. a few more minutes and he finally breaks the hug. He proceeded to write, no, scribble something down on a piece of paper “what’re you doing?” You asked with curiousness. 

“I’m giving you my number, any time you need to talk I’m here for you, ok?” He said as he was tearing up. “I don’t care what hour, any time you need me don’t hesitate to call” 

“I will” you say while giving him a sheepish smile as you start heading out of his room.

“Stay for the night?”

You stop in your tracks

“p- pardon?”

He laughs and takes your hands so you're facing him

“Pease, stay the night with me?”

[silenceofthecookies]

Hello! I'm fairly new to your blog and I love the way you write Sanji! I was wondering if you can write a scenario for a modern day au where he and his S/O are out on a date and someone recognizes him, calling him "Vinsmoke" in a malicious tone. But before he could say anything, his S/O immediately goes "That isn't Vinsmoke. This is Vansmork Shinji!" Protecting him with a dead serious look in their eyes. How would Sanji react to their response to protect him. Thank you!! 🖤

Hi Anon, welcome to my blog! I’m a sucker for Sanji, not gonna lie. I used to think he was rather annoying with all the womanizing until I saw him during whole cake and now... now I’m weak for him. I’m a sucker for a good backstory. My ramblings aside, enjoy the scenario! 

Checking yourself over one last time, you tried to make sure you looked perfect. Your hair? Check. Face? Check. Clothes? Check. Accessoires? Check. You looked casual yet chic. And yet, you felt like you were forgetting something. Sanji walked into the room and noticed you standing in front of the mirror. He looked confused for a bit, before realizing what you were trying to do.

“Darling, you’re not wearing any shoes.” “That’s what I forgot!”

Sanji chuckled as you ran to the closet to get your shoes. He had no idea how you missed it. Then again, he had once seen you step into the shower without taking off your socks. You were both laughing so hard that the romantic mood that was there before was completely gone. As you stepped in front of the mirror again, looking yourself over one last time from head to toe, you nodded happily and turned to Sanji to give him a kiss, one he gladly returned.

“Are you ready, my love?” “I am now. Thanks.” “Don’t mention it. Let’s get today on the road then.”

After receiving another nod from you, the two of you left the house. It was your two-year anniversary after all, and being the romantic he is, Sanji wasn’t going to let it pass by without doing something for it. He had suggested going to the zoo together, he knew you loved all the animals, and after that you’d go have dinner at the restaurant he worked at. At first his plan was to cook for you himself, but you insisted that he’d let someone else cook, not wanting him to spend the majority of the evening, and possibly of the date, in the kitchen. No matter how much you loved his cooking, you wanted his undivided attention on this day. When you put it that way, Sanji couldn’t refuse, but he insisted on going to the Baratie, saying that he’d let the ‘old man’ cook for you, not trusting just anyone to make food for you. Zeff was basically his father, and despite his harsh attitude towards Sanji, he absolutely loved you. He often told you you could do better than a brat like Sanji. You always told him there wasn’t anyone better in the world, which would earn you a smile from both men.

A short drive later you arrived at the zoo. Sanji held your hand as the two of you explored the park, enjoying the proximity. Of course, Sanji had already checked when all the shows would start, and planned your route to be there on time. He loved seeing your face light up at the sights of all these animals and what they could do. He did have one surprise arranged though. At most shows, you were somehow involved. You were allowed to pet the dolphins, to have a beautiful bird of prey on your arm, the name of which you already forgot in your excitement, and you were allowed to feed some other animals. You had no idea how he had arranged this, but you couldn’t be more excited, and you were sure to show him your appreciation in the forms of hugs and kisses. Nothing could ruin this day.

Until some passerby couldn’t keep his nasty comments to himself.

“Of course, a fucking Vinsmoke. How much blood money did you pay the zoo to get your little toy over there to pet some animals, huh?”

Sanji’s expression darkened. His biological family, the Vinsmoke family, ran a crime syndicate. Everyone knew it, yet the police could never gather enough evidence to capture them, or at least to capture someone worthy of capturing, like the head of the family, Judge, or one of his children. Most people didn’t like having these criminals in their town and sadly for Sanji, due to their eyebrows, a Vinsmoke was easily recognizable. Even though he left the family at a young age and hadn’t committed a single crime in his life, he was still regularly associated with them. People were cruel beings after all. It didn’t matter if you yourself did nothing wrong, if your family did something wrong, you were lumped in with them. An idea came to you though, you were not going to let this man just insult your boyfriend. Making your face as serious as you could, you spoke up.

“What do you mean? Are you blind? This is no Vinsmoke. This is Vansmork Shinji. Really, you’ve got some guts, calling him a Vinsmoke.”

Sanji’s head whipped around to look at you in shock. Were you actually standing up for him? Sanji felt a mix of gratefulness and guilt. He was thankful that you’d want to stand up for him, and that you’d want to start a fight, even if just verbally, for him. But at the same time, he felt so bad for it. You shouldn’t have to do this. You shouldn’t have to possibly get into trouble for him. Zeff was right, you did deserve so much better than him...

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but that is bullshit.” “Oh, this is bullshit? You haven’t seen anything yet. You want to know what actual bullshit is, mister? Actual bullshit is bothering someone who’s just having a fun day out with their partner, and accusing them of stuff because you think you know what’s going on. You think you know what you’re talking about and you want to pretend to be superior than others to make up for your own low self-esteem.” Both Sanji and the man stared at you in shock at this point. “But-” “I wasn’t done yet! Didn’t your parents ever teach you that interrupting people while they’re talking is impolite? Though I guess they never taught you to respect people either, or to keep your own uneducated opinion to yourself, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t. But let me educate you a little, you poor unknowing soul. Yes, the Vinsmoke family sucks. However, if you had done your research properly before insulting strangers on the street, you’d notice Judge has 3 sons and a daughter. A daughter with pink hair, and three sons with red, blue and green hair. You see a blonde anywhere around? I don’t. Neither do the press or the police. That’s because Sanji is not affiliated with them. He’s trying to live a normal life without all that nonsense of the crime syndicate, but people like you are insulting him without any fucking reason. Now who’s the real bad guy here, huh?! Maybe next time you pretend to be such a good person, do it in the form of charity instead of insulting innocent people walking by.”

As you finished your rant, you noticed you were out of breath. You were so mad, and you knew that if you stuck around any longer, you’d punch this man in his now very pale face. Tightening your hold on Sanji’s hand, you said an angry ‘good day mister’ before he could answer you and walked away. Pulling him away from the crowd that had gathered around you as you ranted, you arrived at a quieter spot of the zoo where you could finally calm yourself down. As you turned to Sanji to ask if he was ok, you noticed he was on the verge of tears.

“Oh no, Sanji, I’m so sorry you had to hear all of that, I’m sure that was very upsetting,…" “That’s not it, Y/N... I’m... happy. You just got so mad for me... you didn’t need to, we could’ve just walked away... but please, don’t do it again. What if that man had become violent?” “Then we would’ve kicked his ass together. I’m done with people judging you for your lineage. You’re better than all of them put together. Please, remember that, love.” “Zeff is right... I really don’t deserve you.” Sanji said, smiling through his tears. “I think the same nearly every day, Sanji. Now let’s go, shall we? We still have dinner to go to today.”

Wiping his tears, Sanji smiled at you and offered you his hand again. Silently thanking his lucky stars one more time for meeting you, he walked to the restaurant with you, determined to make the best of the rest of the day.

[gisachi]

OMG! No.19 with my Shinran babies please! Love you!

Thank you for this number, Anons! I have a particular idea stuck in my mind for this one when I first came across the prompts list. So I’m excited to finally write it down.😆 Hope you like it! Fluffy ShinRan ahead! 💞

19. One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss. (1,937 words)

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Among the multitudes of traits Ran admires from Shinichi, it’s his confidence that always gets her.

Ran loves the way his lips tug to an accomplished smirk whenever he completes all puzzle pieces of a baffling mystery, or the way his bright eyes glint when he quotes his most favorite lines from Holmes’ cases. She loves how easily he captivates big crowds with his proud, gallant voice, streamlining facts that would put any expert to shame. She loves how he, despite his energy, turns cool and collected when facing a crisis, because as young as he is he knows how to make judgments better than any adult ever can.

She loves him like that. And she loves him even more when he’s like that, to her.

She remembers the first time he held her hand as his girlfriend during their walk home from school — he was all smiles and charm with no hint of reluctance in his eyes. The same way whenever he presses his forehead against hers to check her temperature, or when he tucks her loose locks behind her ear on her stead. He doesn’t hesitate stroking his fingers on the corner of her lips to remove grains of rice stuck on them whenever they dine out, only to eat them afterwards and laughing at how red she’ll be from that.

In those gestures, it’s like he’s teaching her how to be physically comfortable with him. Which she does learn so easily. She likes it. It makes her feel the legitimacy of their relationship. They’re not only best friends but two human beings who love each other and find comfort in each other’s physical closeness.

But as much as she feels his confidence translating through these gestures, there’s one thing he hasn’t done.

He has never kissed her.

This dawned on her when she notices how his face only goes as far as touching her nose when he presses their foreheads together, though her lips are out in the open. That, and when he drops her home after a date, he’ll get really close and it’s ridiculous how her eyes flutter in anticipation for a kiss but he won’t; instead he’ll just squeeze her hand and say his goodbye.

He’s never kissed her.

Not even an attempt.

She doesn’t know what to feel about it.

“Is there something wrong?”

Shinichi slumps beside her on the bed, body nestling comfortably albeit the worried expression he wears. She remembers they’re in her room doing homework, a routine they have after class, which they do alternately between his house and hers.

Earlier, she told Shinichi she’ll lie down for a moment, and judging by how he follows her five minutes after she said that, she figures her somber tone must’ve bugged him.

“Are you sick?”

Ran vigorously shakes her head, and it looks like she’s answering him but in truth she’s veering her brain away from her silly thoughts, embarrassed by where it has drifted to.

Notwithstanding that, he presses his forehead against hers like how he usually does. Even if he’s done this a thousand times, she still can’t help but blush.

“Weird. You aren’t.” Shinichi remarks, voice evident of concern.

“Like I said.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

He observes her for a little longer, caressing her cheek with slow strokes of his thumb, handsome blue eyes serious, unyielding.

This is embarrassing.

His face is only inches away and her breath hitches, unsure of where she must look but in the end settles for his eyes, which stare right at her like he’s seeing through her soul, reading her thoughts.

Then, Shinichi closes in and goes for it.

On the lips.

Ran releases a surprised ‘mpfh’ right when he presses on her, and her temperature begins to rise like she’s truly in a fever.

Even with the littlest movement of his mouth over hers, she feels like she’s going to pass out from the drastic temperature change in her body.

His lips are so red, so warm.

She can’t breathe. She can’t move. She can’t—!

He pulls back.

Ran dumbly looks at him, shaken by the entire feeling of them lying on her bed and him suddenly giving her a kiss. A kiss which, though abrupt, is enough to unleash all the butterflies trapped in her belly.

Shinichi just kissed her.

On her lips!

But...

“I-...” he withholds his words, eyes wide, as if startled by his own actions. The hand framing her cheek quivers.

Something isn’t right.

Something‘s bothering him.

Unsure of what she’s done wrong, she touches his cheek, only for him to flinch beneath her fingertips.

“Shinichi…?” Her voice quivers, too.

The look in his eyes before he captured her lips was so sure. Now, he gazes at her like he’s having second thoughts; eyes lidded with delicate love and affection but behind them lie badges of uncertainty.

She doesn’t like it.

All his life he’s been so confident of his choices, but why, now, does he seem to doubt giving what she secretly anticipates from him for the longest time?

“I uh… I’m sorry I-...I might’ve been rushing, I just...crap,” he hides his reddened cheeks with his back hand, averting his gaze away.

Wait.

No.

If she pays close attention to the stillness of the room, she can hear his erratic heartbeat thumping mercilessly against his ribcage.

If she observes his face carefully, she can count each drop of sweat dotting his forehead.

The more he speaks the more he jumbles up his consonants.

All of these he desperately tries to conceal with his hands but it isn’t working because they, too, shiver like it’s winter.

It’s not that he’s doubting.

He’s…

“Do you want to...do this?”

Ran blinks her doe-like eyes at his question, and in that instant he flits his nervous eyes back at her.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, voice muffled by his hand.

“I mean we can…not, like, if you’re not read-”

Silly boy.

Removing his hand from his face, she silences him with a press of her lips on his.

What do you mean I’m not ready?

Torrents of emotion brew inside her as she recreates his kiss from earlier, though instead of making it brief, she does it longer.

You’ve prepared me enough—it’s about time.

She doesn’t expect him to get flustered at this. After all, he’s Shinichi. But like all other guys whose knees get weak when they receive a heartfelt kiss from their love, his whole resolve collapses, dissolves through his fingertips, as though she’s absorbing all of that from him and he’s letting it.

Wow. The power her kiss has over him.

Nothing can get any better than this.

However.

It is one thing to kiss, but another to be good at it. Though she surges on him with so much passion, she finds herself...stuck.

Does she move? Where does she place her hands?

She plants awkward kisses along his mouth, and with every passing second the confidence she mustered begins to wane.

She’s horrible. Pathetic.

He must be hating this.

“Ran.”

Shinichi breaks away, stares at her for what seems like forever.

She waits for him to laugh, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he guides her hand to his nape, cradles her jaw and smiles, “May I?”, before pulling her to meet her mouth and kiss her again.

It might be his confidence regained or a natural talent, but the way he delivers is magical. Heavenly. “Like this,” his voice comes out breathy, as he leads her mouth to a specific motion over his. Oh god. She feels as though she ascends the skies, floats above the clouds, flies with the birds with every brush of lips. It doesn’t take long until their mouths dance in perfect rhythm, lips melding comfortably like melting iron.

This is...surreal.

The bed shifts and suddenly she’s facing the ceiling instead of sideways, his upper body hovering above her. His tentative kisses become more decisive, more characteristic of him, and they fill her body with outrageous warmth as he punctuates every kiss with a soft, wet sound, and she cannot filter her next actions so she hums in his mouth, silently.

His lips are like strong armors, clashing against hers so powerfully and she’s willing to lose. The way he grazes his tongue over her inner lip makes every fine hair on her skin tingle, and she sighs in bliss as he delicately tilts her head in an angle more comfortable to them and albeit faintly, he moans.

Everything around her disappears, it’s just him and her, being intimate like this. Being more intimate than ever.

A sudden bite on her lower lip however jolts her and she opens her dazed eyes to see him with his shut tight, brows creased in concentration, his full undivided attention to her, kissing her with an intensity greater than the heat of a thousand suns and it’s...ridiculous. Ridiculous how mad her heart beats at how frustratingly handsome he looks. How her ears flush and cheeks flare up at how foreign they sound. How her vision blurs and blurs until she can no longer keep her eyes open and just fall, deep into his embrace, into his lips, surrendering her will slowly, sweetly…

His mouth leaves her with a quiet pop, weight above her lessening a little.

She cannot open her eyes, but she finds herself lifting her head, wanting to feel his lips again. At this point, it’s already a crime to stop.

“Ran?” He sounds croaky, and she doesn’t realize how dry her throat has become until she replies with an equally hoarse ‘Hn?’

Why are you stopping? Don’t!

“...Your father might kill me if he sees us like this on your bed.”

Her eyes open, reality kicking in.

She’s not in the clouds. They’re still in her room.

“Ah... you-you’re right!”

Shock and embarrassment pass over her face, realizing how much her body reacted to him like it had never reacted to anything before. Her heart rate refuses to slow down.

Oh my god. We just...

He chuckles lightly, pulls her up until she’s sitting Japanese-style on her bed.

They share a minute-long silence, allowing themselves to absorb what just happened, before he starts.

“Hey, Ran.”

“Yes?!” she squeaks, a complete opposite from Shinichi’s tone. She wants to slap herself for sounding too hyper from still being so hung up on the intense kiss they just shared.

“We’ll um, take it slow, okay?”

He soothes her with a cold but steady hand, and she feels herself gradually calming down.

“We’ll take it slow if we’re going to do more of, um... that, from now on.” He mumbles the last part of the sentence, scratching his cheek shyly, averting his gaze again like a bashful boy that he apparently is.

Shinichi stuttering, blushing, being a shy mess.

A sight she doesn’t know she needs.

“...Yes,” her lips tilt with her head, “Yes, of course,” before they widen into an adorable beam. “Then, please take care of me, Shinichi!”

His face flushes once again, more crimson than he’s ever been.

Shinichi may not know it, but Ran will always admire Shinichi for his confidence.

But seeing him like this - being a vulnerable, nervous, mess of a man - is a different story, as she realizes how she wants to see more of this, too.

Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe the day after that.

Maybe, for the rest of their lives.

After a little moment of sharing shy giggles, he stands up, extending his hand to her. “Let’s finish homework?”

She nods, takes his hand. “Okay.”

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[ailuro-mania]

Inukag Week 2020: June 12th *Instinct*

It’d been almost a year now since Kagome’s return to the feudal era and summer was just rounding the corner again. Fireflies spread across the grassy field in front of Sango and Miroku’s hut. They’d chosen to live just a bit of a distance from Kaede’s village but close enough to keep guard. And in result, a lot more wildlife circulated their little hut to Kagome’s joy.

Two little twin girls spun in circles in the taller parts of the grass, clapping their hands together in attempt to catch some of the fireflies. Which, when they did, Yaiyoi would typically scream in disgust while Natsumi would laugh in her own little evil way, attempting to wipe off the little bug carcass on Yayoi’s kimono. Kagome couldn’t guess why Yaiyoi was even trying to smash the flies between her bare hands other than to impress her elder sister, or get her revenge. Which wasn’t a normal trait for the girl, she was typically the calmer one.

Though a year had passed, the young priestess still had yet to make friends with Natsumi the way she had with Yaiyoi and Sango’s little boy, Haru. Natsumi didn’t seem to be too interested in what Kagome had to offer, all she saw was the lady who stole her uncle Inu away. A small crush had been formed during her absence, Kagome knew that much. And Inuyasha had such a weak spot for the girls, even if he pretended he didn’t around others. But little Natsumi’s jealousy only grew when Kagome’s pregnancy had been announced. It’d been 8 months since and Natsumi still refused to look the priestess in the eye. But Kagome refused to give up, she was going to win this girl over one day.

“Girls!” Sango popped out of the hut with Haru balanced on a hip, “Dinner is ready! And unless you want to go hunt for your own tonight I suggest you hurry up and get in here before I feed it all to the village dogs!”

Kagome smiled and watched as the two girls jumped at their mothers voice and quickly brushed themselves off, racing back to the hut. Before they reached the door, Sango put out a hand and raised her brows. “I know you aren’t coming in here with dirty hands.”

“Awww, mooom,” Natsumi complained, scrunching her nose and puckering her lips in anger. “I wiped them off in the grass!”

Sango shook her head and pointed towards a water bucket with her free hand that was kept at the corner of the hut, a silent demand.

Both the girls followed through, Natsumi making as much noise as possible, making sure everyone within proximity knew of her annoyance while Haru started up a giggle fit watching as his highly entertaining sisters fight over who got to wash their hands first.

Sango blew out a breath of air, lifting her bangs. She looked over at Kagome who remained sitting on the bench outside their hut, still smiling fondly at the two girls. The demon slayer shifted her son to her other hip and offered a hand out to Kagome, which Kagome took with relief. Most all her weight depended on Sango for a solid second, though the brunette could easily handle lifting her heavily pregnant best friend up off a bench.

“Come, I made boiled chicken. And you’re staying with us until both Miroku and Inuyasha return tonight from their job. I won’t have you walking back to your hut alone in the dark,” Sango chided.

Kagome rolled her eyes at her, hands unconsciously resting at the top of her swollen belly. “You don’t think I could fight off demons and evil humans with this belly, hm?”

Sango laughed and shook her head. “Perhaps. But I think Inuyasha would prefer you not use the womb that holds his child as a fighting tool.”

“Pfh,” Kagome scrunched up one side of her nose with a small wink, “I can take him too.” The priestess lifted both fists and gently bumped them onto Haru’s side as he continued to giggle. He was always such a happy boy.

Natsumi came running between the two women, almost tipping Kagome over on the way. Kagome gasped but was thankfully, once again, caught by Sango.

“Natsumi!” Her mother scolded, “You’ve better have a nice apology to be said right this instant.”

The girl looked over at her mother and back towards the dinner pot that hovered over the fireplace in the middle of the hut. “Sorry.”

Once Kagome had her feet planted firmly on the ground again she shook her head, “It’s okay. She probably didn’t think I’d lose my balance so easily.”

Sango pressed her lips together in a tight line but said nothing further. She quietly lead Kagome back into the hut making sure Yaiyoi followed and set Haru down in a small play pin made of smooth wood, quickly placing a kiss to the top of the boys head.

Natsumi and Yaiyoi kneeled down around the firepit holding their bowls out in front of each other, awaiting their mother to serve them. Sango served them both before grabbing a bowl for herself and Kagome, joining her friend closer to the wall where she could rest her back against. She handed her the priestess her serving before kneeling down next to her.

“So have you thought of any names?” The demon slayer questioned after taking a few bites.

Kagome’s smile was contagious, her eyes instantly lighting up at the topic chosen. “Well, not really. Inuyasha sorta put the naming thing on me, and I’m awful at naming… All my dolls as a child were named after some J-Pop group I enjoyed simply because they resembled them…” she stopped her explanation realizing she lost Sango at the mention of J-Pop. She cleared her throat and shook her head, “I just don’t want to name her something silly and have her stuck with it her whole life.”

Sango straightened up at the mention of gender, “Her?”

A flush came across Kagome’s cheeks and she took another bite of her food before setting the bowl down and resting her hands back against her belly. “I think she’s a girl. I just have this feeling, and these dreams. I can never remember them, but I do know there’s always a butterfly. A small yellow butterfly.”

Sango’s brows pulled together, clearly about to ask a question but Yaiyoi came skipping over and plopped herself down right in front of Kagome.

“I think she’s a girl too!” Yaiyoi shouted gleefully, reaching out and tenderly placing her hands against Kagome’s stomach. The girl squealed delightfully when she felt movement coming from within, her eyes lighting up. “See? She’s telling us she is!” Yaiyoi leaned in, her face set in determination. “Baby, if you’re a girl kick once! If you’re a boy, twice!”

A few moments passed between the three before a very solid, surprising, kick pressed against the small girls hands. Another squeal erupted from her as she jumped up and danced around.

Kagome giggled and Sango smiled, pulling Yaiyoi down into her lap, smothering her girl with kisses.

“I didn’t know my girl was a fortune teller,” she teased before placing another kiss to the top of her daughters head, trapping her between her arms.

“Mother!” she struggled against the strong arms. Sango laughed and released her.

Natsumi watched the ordeal from her original sitting spot. Another girl only meant more attention stolen from her uncle. Not that she would be terribly excited for a boy, either. All of those options simply meant losing her uncle’s undivided attention for the few hours she got to see him during the day.

Haru begun to cry from his corner in the play pin, clearly upset he wasn’t involved in the fun his mother, aunt, and sister were having. Sango huffed out a breath and glanced at Kagome, “I hope you’re ready for the crying as much as you are for the giggles,” she teased her friend as she got up from the floor and made her way over to her baby boy. Swiftly lifting him up into her arms she excused herself and walked out into the night. The moon always seemed to calm the boy down, Kagome knew that much after having babysat the child on nights his mother and father needed alone time.

Yaiyoi sat up and grabbed Kagome’s hand, whispering excitedly “Do you think she’ll have uncle Inu’s ears?”

“I do hope so,” Kagome whispered back with the same excitement.

Yaiyoi gasped, eyes widening.

Natsumi rolled her own eyes and got up from the ground making her way over to her sister and aunt. The four year old crossed her arms and peered down at Kagome.

The priestess simply looked up at her niece, a small questionable smile playing on her lips. “Yes Natsumi?”

The elder twin plopped down on her knees and smacked Kagome’s belly. “I think the babies stupid,” she spat out.

A gasp stunned all 3 occupants of the hut, Sango stood in the doorway with a sleepy Haru, her brown eyes laced with anger. “Natsumi!” She scolded.

That woke the boy back up, tears starting to surface once more along with a wail. Sango grunted in frustration and leaned her sons face into her shoulder bouncing him up and down.

Meanwhile, Kagome’s eyes trained on her eldest niece, hands over where her belly had just been offended. “It’s okay,” the priestess spoke aloud to Sango.

“No, no it is not! Natsumi when your father gets h-“

Something pulsed in the air, the hut suddenly filling with an disturbingly strong aura. Kagome gasped and doubled over, her hands pressed tightly against herself. Haru continued screaming against Sango’s shoulder and the twins both jumped up. Yaiyoi quickly put her hand against her aunts back calling to her mother while Natsumi backpeddled.

Sango was quick, gently placing her upset child into his resting crib and pulling Yaiyoi away from Kagome. Not that she thought Kagome would hurt any of her family, but this wasn’t normal. Kagome was nowhere near due. The demon slayer wrapped an arm around Kagome’s back, pushing her dark raven locks out of her face.

“Kagome? Kagome can you look at me?”

Kagome groaned out in response, shaking her head. She’d begun trembling in the slayers arms.

This aura wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sango knew it well from the past, it felt like Inuyasha’s when he turned full demon. Only Inuyasha wasn’t here, and he certainly wasn’t a full demon. The brunettes eyes fixed on Kagome’s belly that was hidden protectively by Kagome herself. Her friends eyes were squeezed shut and seemed to be whispering to herself between gasps.

Loud footsteps smacking against the wooden floor broke Sango’s attention when she was suddenly jolted and pulled away by her husband. Swiftly realizing he’d done so to protect her from a growling half demon that’d already wrapped his mate in his arms instinctively. The markings on his cheeks prominent, burying his face onto the side of Kagome’s cheek begging her in question if she was okay. His hands rested against Kagome’s while his person being pressed up behind her.

Miroku gently pulled his wife up to her feet, “What happened?”

Haru’s continued screaming started to ring in Sango’s ears, head shaking, “I… Natsumi hit her stomach, she… well, you know her! She was getting jealous and… and then this aura surrounded us and Kagome started to scream and…”

Kagome gasped out painfully once more, tears hitting the wooden floor underneath her. Inuyasha’s grip tightened, but his head snapped toward Sango, a feral rage swirling behind golden hues.

He was acting on his yokai, Sango knew that. This wasn’t his normal reaction and Kagome was in pain. Sango shook her head once more in response to his unasked questions.

The air seemed to return back to normal then, Kagome’s gasps for air evening out. The aura dissipated and the priestess relaxed in her husband’s arms. “I’m okay,” she hoarsely whispered.

Inuyasha waited a full minute before slightly loosening his grip as he pulled Kagome up to her feet with great care. The priestess had her sweaty forehead pressed against his shoulder with her eyes closed.

Sango stepped forward but Miroku gripped her wrist, preventing her from going any further. Which was probably for the better. Inuyasha’s cheek markings still surfaced though his sclera never once turned red. The slayer Inuyasha carry her friend out of their hut not once sparing a word or glance at her or her family.

*******

Inuyasha’s temper didn’t budge by the time he got Kagome home to their own personal hut. His markings faded, sure, but a continued growl emanated from his chest the entire run back home. She was still easy to carry in his arms, his caution grown by tenfold since her pregnancy.

The hut was dark but warmed from the summer sun. Still he snatched a quilt from nearby and sat down on their futon, back against the wall, stretching the quilt out and wrapping it around his wife. She’d been quiet since their departure from Sango and Miroku’s. Her eyes were focused on his feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world to her at that moment.

He quietly wrapped his arms around her once more on the outside of the quilt, his forearms resting above her belly. “Are you suddenly not interested in sharing your emotions with me?”

A soft sigh and blow of air from her nose was her only response.

Inuyasha’s eyes narrowed, lifting one clawed hand up and turning her chin to look at him. Her eyes adverted but he could read her like a book. “Kagome.”

“Inuyasha.”

Another growl begun to surface, “Damnit woman, are we just not going to talk about this?”

She pursed her lips and slipped her chin out of his grip. “I don’t know what there is to talk about, it happened. It’s over. I’m fine.”

“You weren’t FINE! You were hardly breathing and your damn heartbeat was flying! Kagome you were in pain!”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle!” She countered, shifting to get out of his arms and from between his legs. “You don’t need to hold me like I’m going to break, I’m okay, Inuyasha.”

His yokai screamed at him to tighten his grip but he knew better, he knew he’d lose the battle regardless. So he loosened it, letting her slip out and lean forward. “Kagome…”

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted, “I know Natsumi hit my stomach but it didn’t hurt, promise. Then I felt a massive heat surface from within and it felt like I was being burned. I couldn’t breathe, you’re right. But it stopped, right? So I’m fine. We’re fine. She was just being a little girl, she was getting jeal-“

Inuyasha’s growl heightened, “You don’t need to defend the runts I know how they are.”

“And I know how you are. Natsumi didn’t… She was angry. She’s four.” Kagome struggled to turn around, Inuyasha helping her the best he could. She whispered a soft thank you and placed her hand on his cheek.

“We’re okay.” She assured him once more, her brown eyes boring into his with every ounce of adoration she could possibly express to him.

Inuyasha’s ears twitched but he nodded his head and leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. “I was so fucking worried.”

Kagome smiled and brushed her fingers through his thick hair, down to the nape of his neck. Her free hand lifted under his chin to bring his lips to hers, sharing a soft kiss within the darkness of their home. “You were acting on instinct.”

Golden eyes peered back up at her after she had pulled away. He exhaled an entire breath and adjusted himself into the futon, tugging at her kimono to get her to join him.

A small, breathy laugh and she laid right down next to him, never being able to deny him.

His arms wrapped around her once more, face burying into the back of her neck. He breathed in her scent and let himself relax against her back. Kagome took his hands and placed them against her stomach, resting her own on top of his. They stayed like that as Kagome drifted off and let herself be claimed by sleep.

*******

Later that night Kagome’s back was caught in a drift of summer air, keeping her breath even, she still felt four hands pressed against her.

Inuyasha had been making small noises Kagome rarely ever heard from him. Soft yips and chitters quietly spoken to her belly. She chanced peaking one eye open to look down at her husband. His forehead was nearly pressed against her as he leaned over, legs crossed. Watching in awe, letting him continue his chat with their unborn child. He had never used this language in front of Kagome. Or at least, not when he knew she had heard.

It lasted maybe another minute before Inuyasha realized his mate had woken up. His cheeks lit up pink the moment their eyes met.

“I… I uh…”

Kagome smiled affectionately, leaning up a bit and reaching her hands out to him. Once he was in her grasp she put all her weight on him to attempt at pulling him down. He sat there awkwardly before giving in to his wife’s demand and letting her tug him down.

She kissed him passionately, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him in place.

Stunned, but not against it, he returned the kiss, putting both hands on either side of her head to hold himself up and avoid any of his weight on her front.

“’Gome,” he tried.

A grin spread across her lips and she let him up.

“What was that for?” He demanded, his cheeks still tinted pink from being caught.

“I love you. I love you so much,” She pulled him down again, lips pressed harder onto his.

He laughed into the kiss, fangs scrapping against her bottom lip.

Once again, she let him pull away. His lit eyes rang with question though his face was brandished with a lopsided grin.

“What were you saying?” She finally broke the silence.

Inuyasha cleared his throat, this time it was his turn to advert his eyes. “I… I was just seeing if they’d respond to it.”

“And?”

“And… they did. They kicked a lot.”

“But what did you say?” She pressed once more.

He shrugged.

“Inuyasha!”

“Kagome!”

She frowned and dropped her arms from around his neck with a pout. “I take back my kisses.”

“Oh? You can’t do that.”

“I just did,” Kagome turned herself over to the right, her back facing where he kneeled.

Inuyasha sighed out and brushed a lose strand of hair from her face. “I was making sure the pup was okay.”

Kagome spared a glance at him, looking away just as quickly.

“… And thanking them. I know what they did hurt you, but I think they were protecting you. Or trying to. They’re developed enough, but I fear maybe… Maybe their stronger than even I am if they can emit that aura,” he sighed out.

She finally made full eye contact with him, turning herself back around and placing her hands back onto her stomach, chewing on her lip to think of a response.

He frowned at that, lifting up his hand and taking her lip out from under from her own teeth.

“I think you’re right. I think… she’s very strong. Especially with both spiritual and demonic energies combined. For the longest time I feared that I wouldn’t be able to carry her this far. I feared that somehow we’d counteract children of our own, but she’s put up a fight to be with us. And she’s getting ready to be here, to protect our little family. She’s going to be feisty,” Kagome smirked and rested a hand on her beloved’s cheek, “and kami, I know she’s going to have your drive. You’re going to be such a great father, Inuyasha.”

Kagome swore she saw tears build up in his eyes before he leaned down to press yet another kiss onto her lips.

A giggle was shared between her lips and his, her arms wrapping back around his neck. He’d finally settled down against her, Kagome mindlessly running her fingers through his locks as she quietly contemplated names for their child.

[why-not-go-with-style]

Ineffable husbands not fully understanding the parental impact they have on Warlock. Maybe it’s not till after the apocalypse that they check in with him, maybe at school, and all the adults are just - “Omg you must be Warlock’s parents!!!! We’ve heard so much about you!” And it keeps happening everywhere they go (much to their absolute joy). Just lots of hugs for poor warlock

I need very little encouragement to write about Warlock’s shenanigans. Thank you for enabling me, anon, because this was a delight to write. I tried to have some fun with narration in this one.

***

The Dowling family was, by most measures, rich. Any family in possession of such a garden which sprawled out for many paces across their estate is rich by at least some measures. As any self-respecting rich family they’ve had a whole platoon of workers, including (but not limited to) maids, cooks, bodyguards and drivers. Most of these are irrelevant to us, just as they were irrelevant to the Dowling family, nothing beyond things of convenience. However, as the reader would, no doubt, be aware, there was a pair of beings on Dowling’s payroll who deserve most careful attention. One was the estate’s gardener, and the other was a nanny.

Despite deserving the attention, they often found themselves lacking it. The other servants endowed them with nothing beyond friendly greetings and gossip-filled smalltalk, as they would endow all others who found themselves in the position of employment by the household. The two masters of the house, the American ambassador and his wife, couldn’t care less about what their employees did as long as they did their jobs, and their jobs, in the couple’s eyes, were to take care of the garden and take care of their child respectively. The garden blossomed, and the young boy grew, so the gardener and the nanny have found themselves, on most occasions, remarkably unsupervised by the human eye.

But of course every rule has an exception, even if it is, at first, not perceived to be such.

That is to say, when the nanny and the gardener remarked to each other that they were often unsupervised by the human eye, they left out one member of the household who was, as far as they were aware, decisively not human. Little Warlock Dowling, the supposed Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness, has never once let them out of his sight for long.

The gardener and the nanny have agreed that such undivided attention from him must have been due to the fact that he sensed, deep inside, their ethereal or occult energies. What they have failed to recognise was the fact that a young child, by and large neglected his whole life by his parents, who preferred to have him in front of a TV screen and not in front of them, had simply latched onto the first pair of adults who seemed to not protest his company. And if said adults were slightly more... peculiar than others – well, young Warlock maintained, all the better.

There were many things he has noticed about Brother Francis and Nanny Ashtoreth. Some of the things he has noticed would amuse them were he ever to voice them out loud. Some would puzzle them. Some would – perhaps – fluster them, if delivered at the right time in the right tone of voice. But Warlock was blissfully unaware of what the right time or the right tone of voice might be, so he kept his thoughts to himself, and instead asked Nanny to tell him another story.

(Nanny told delightful stories. Still, it was, perhaps, for the better that his parents never payed Warlock enough attention to listen to him retelling one of them, because then the circle of staff associated with the Dowling household might have expanded to include a therapist).

In any case, the boy grew under watchful and not entirely human eyes, and if demon Crowley and angel Aziraphale had their secret meetings outside of the estate grounds, to compare notes and exchange smiles, Warlock was none the wiser. He learned to read, and to write, and to solve problems. His father signed him up for an elite school, and a driver was assigned to take him there in the mornings and bring him back again in the afternoons. The Arrangement (of which he knew nothing) worked just as expected – the heavenly influences balanced out the hellish ones, and on the whole, apart from a taste for violence in fiction and an altruistic streak outside of it, what the boy grew to be was remarkably normal.

(Too bloody normal, Crowley insisted, in the same tone of voice in which he would insist later that Aziraphale really should have listened to him back then).

It was midway through December, as dull as winters often are (the only part of Britain which got nearly enough snow that year, or any year, was Tadfield), when Mrs. Harriet Dowling approached Nanny Ashtoreth, after the driver has carefully off-loaded her shopping bags in the corridor to be picked up by the maid.

“Hello, dear,” Harriet nodded distractedly. Nanny Ashtoreth made the kind of face she always made when anyone but the only being allowed to do so called her “dear”. “I’m going to need you to go to Warlock’s parent meeting tomorrow, and then you’re free to go for Christmas. We will call you when we’ll need you back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nanny Ashtoreth said primly (and if she had no intention to leave the estate when the Dowlings were on their holiday in Egypt, or Hawaii, or whatever other place they have chosen that year, her employer had no business knowing it). “Have a terrific holiday.”

(One must note, unlike Mrs. Dowling who was too preoccupied by directing the maids to note anything, that much like “nice”, the word “terrific” used to have an entirely different meaning, and Nanny Ashtoreth has lived through enough years to know it. On a completely unrelated note, the only person to enjoy the upcoming trip will have been little Warlock, but that is a story for another time).

The next day, at one in the afternoon precisely, a big black car pulled up to the gates of Warlock’s school. Nanny Ashtoreth stepped out of it and followed the displayed signs towards Warlock’s classroom, while simultaneously waving her hand at said signs to make them point in all manners of different directions (for she had to stay on-brand). There were stairs, and glass walls, and motivational posters (which she considered changing a tad, but ultimately decided that it would be a bit on-the-nose). The school was exactly what one would expect from the kind of overpriced education facility demon Crowley has once earned a commendation for. It was probably for the better (worse, technically, which in Hell’s books was, of course, better) if the Antichrist were to grow up surrounded by spoiled brats. He needed a reason to hate humanity, after all.

Nanny Ashtoreth made her way to the classroom and greeted the man at the door with a polite but tight-lipped smile. He glanced down at the paper in his hands, scanning across the surnames.

“Afternoon, ma’am. You’re here for..?”

“Warlock,” she said. “Warlock Dowling.”

The man did a double take, looking back up at her from where his pencil skimmed down the list. Nanny Ashtoreth, perhaps because she had been simply observant, or perhaps because picking up on negative emotions was practically in her job description (no, the other one), could almost feel the disapproval suddenly radiating off him. She quirked one eyebrow up and held his gaze from behind the darkened sunglasses.

“You’re his mother, then?” the man asked, feigning a smile in that impeccable way only teachers can. “Adrien Franks. My pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Franks,” nanny nodded, offering her hand when he didn’t. “However, Mrs. Dowling is unfortunately busy today. Antonia Ashtoreth to your service.”

The man’s demeanour changed within seconds. Nanny Ashtoreth was left to watch in almost bewildered fascination how his polite smile morphed into a friendly grin as he grasped her hand in his.

“Oh, do excuse me!” he exclaimed. “I just thought – I probably shouldn’t have. My mistake. Are you his nanny, then?”

“That’s me,” she nodded, squinting at him. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d know of me.”

“Oh, we do,” the teacher shrugged, stepping aside to let her inside the classroom, a surprisingly quiet place without the children. There were parents (or substitutes) already inside, but they elected to eye one another suspiciously instead of socialising, as any self-respecting rich people do when surrounded by other rich people. “We get the kids to talk about their home life, to get to know them, you understand, and Warlock barely mentions his parents.”

“I wonder why,” Nanny Ashtoreth muttered. Somewhere far away Harriet Dowling dropped a wooden clothes hanger on her foot and swore.

“Yes, well, it happens. Unfortunately,” Mr. Franks sighed. “Fortunately, however, for Warlock at least, he has you.”

“Me?”

“Well, you, and the gardener – Brother Francis, was it? Warlock never stops going on about you.” Mr. Franks put the list of surnames on one of the desks, then walked back to her, clearly happy to get to break the silence. “I’m glad he has people like you in his life. He seems to look up to both of you greatly.”

“Is that so?” the nanny hummed, noncommittally. She wasn’t sure whether that was something a young Antichrist should be doing – looking up to an angel, Satan forbid! – but she was going to keep her comments to herself until she could discuss it with the said angel in the privacy of the gardener’s cottage. (Aziraphale, of course, would find it rather distasteful that the boy would even think of looking up to a demon).

“Oh, absolutely,” the teacher nodded with enthusiasm. “Of course, he has a bit of an imagination on him, Warlock, so some things he says are... a bit funny, at times, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that there are people in his life taking such good care of him. You’d be surprised how often his classmates feel ignored at home.”

“No, I don’t think I would,” Nanny Ashtoreth muttered, throwing a glance around the room. The teacher gave her an awkward smile.

“Or perhaps you wouldn’t,” he conceded. “In any case, Warlock is a good kid, Ms. Ashtoreth. Thanks for looking after him. You and Brother Francis both.”

He sounded sincere. It was, in nanny’s experience, hard to find humans who would be so sincere, especially amongst the teachers. She would never admit it, but there was something about people who cared so much for children who weren’t their own which made her if not soft, then at least somewhat hopeful about the human race (and wasn’t it ironic that they were talking about its untimely demise?).

“I will pass your thanks onto him,” she said, seriously. And then: “I think the children are back from lunch. Shouldn’t we start?”

Adrien Franks looked at the clock, then at the door. He knitted his eyebrows together when he saw the kids flooding in through the doorway, their voices filling the room in a way that would have been impossible to miss (and yet). He shrugged to himself, decided that he must have been terribly engrossed in the conversation, and took his place at the teacher’s desk.

He watched, almost unintentionally, how little Warlock’s eyes lit up at the sight of his nanny, and how he barged into her, wrapping his thin arms around her waist. She gave him an almost-smile and petted his tousled hair as he babbled about something Adrien could not hear over the general commotion of the room. He looked over the surnames list (which was now inexplicably on his own desk), decided that enough adults were present (some could stand to learn that not everyone in the world will wait for them), and cleared his throat to announce the beginning of the parents meeting.

Yes, he decided. Warlock Dowling was in good hands.

(It was probably for the best that he didn’t say it out loud, though).

***

I’ve had a whole another scene planned out, with Aziraphale this time, but the fic was getting a little long (and the scene wouldn’t quite fit, frankly). If someone wants to see it though, please notify me, for I would love to write it!

[chatsanova]

Have Another Go At It: Chapter 2

AO3

When La Grande Paris and Chloe collapsed, it seemed like nothing Chloe ever did would matter ever again.

Every snap at Pierre, every name-dropped or rule bent in the name of Chloe getting what she wanted, none of it would ever matter again. It didn’t matter before either, Chloe had just tricked herself into thinking it did. Her thoughts went like this: grief, guilt, regret, distraction then denial.

Chloe had always loved being center stage. It was where she thrived her whole life. Sure, her father was always busy, and sure, her mother was always gone, but to everyone else, she was the most famous, the most beautiful, the most worthy of their attention.

Occasionally she’d use her status to make things work in her direction, but Chloe just saw that as using her resources.

At her lowest points, she’d use it to humiliate others, but negative attention was still attention.

To those around her, dare she say, those that care about her, it seemed her reign of boisterous claims and attention-seeking would never end. She’d assumed they thought the worst of her, that she would fall into more destructive means, and slowly she’d become too much for her Pierre, for Sabrina, for Adrien. She’d never deserve them and it seemed most stuck around for employment. Her father paid well for friendship.

Adrien always insisted that he never accepted money as there was no point for him to do so. And well, he was in the same boat. Adrien was the first person that understood her, that knew why she was always clinging to her fame. He didn’t always agree with it, but he understood it. At that point, it was all she could ask for.

Plus, for a long time, she had Adrien’s undivided attention. He didn’t know any other kids, he was homeschooled, and Chloe was the only option for companionship. Maybe Adrien was never paid, but the sentiment of sticking around simply because there were no other options had plagued Chloe as well.

Then he came to school with her. It had taken some convincing, but Adrien’s mother thought it would be good for him, as long as he kept up with modeling.

Adrien’s attention wasn’t undivided anymore. Adrien became fast friends with Alya, also new at school, and Nino seemed attached to Adrien’s hip merely two days in.

Alya and Nino tolerated her but had a nasty habit of trying to stop Chloe from picking fights with Marinette. Adding pure, soft, can do no wrong Adrien into the mix didn’t help.

She’d been forced to mellow out in order to keep Adrien around. It was a lot easier to do so after the incident. Picking fights with Marinette stopped instantaneously, though she could feel Marinette’s irritation at the prospect. Marinette never wanted pity, but it’s what she received, even from Chloe.

Marinette had sort of snapped in a weird direction.

It was like she suddenly felt the need to grow up all at once. She wasn’t at school for 2 weeks and when she reappeared, she looked completely different.

She stopped wearing handmade clothes, she stopped putting her hair into pigtails, she just stopped. Her grades slipped, though the teachers also took pity on her.

Marinette waffled in between efforts for attention and not wanting anyone to notice her.

The new clothing style said attention, Chloe thought, recognizing it in herself.

She got looked at more often for tight-fitting jeans, mesh shirts, and dark lips extenuating her blue eyes. But then her closed-off attitude, her snappy remarks, those were defense mechanisms to push people away.

Chloe realized a long time ago that looks were something you can control. Attention is something happily given to pretty people, and sometimes when you can’t control what sort of attention you’re given, looking a certain way gives you a way to drive your own narrative.

Being in the papers for being pretty is more fun than being in the papers for being a bitch. Chloe and Marinette understood that if you’re going to be a bitch, you might as well be an attractive one. People are more willing to forgive a pretty bitch.

These thoughts occurred to Chloe during her distraction phase. It was easy to be distracted by a girl who was sitting right next to her, silent but present, especially one dressed for attention-seeking.

Neither of them wanted attention right now, and they were both sitting with the precisely right person to avoid it, but Chloe allowed herself to be distracted by Marinette. It was better than the alternative.

Chloe didn’t speak; Marinette didn’t speak.

Maybe it didn’t matter if people noticed you, as long as they kept their mouth shut about it.

She couldn’t remember why they had fought so regularly. They seemed so distant, those arguments. She assumed she had done something entitled and Marinette had done something condescending and they’d argue until someone got involved and they’d part ways until their next encounter. Maybe at that point, both had each other’s attention.

Around Marinette, Chloe felt seen. Not in a positive way but definitely in a way that allowed Chloe to feel better about herself for a few quick moments. They both fought for the moral high ground and both won in their own eyes.

Occasionally, Chloe’s thoughts would circle back around to her parents, but she quickly pushed them away. She had to, otherwise, she’d break down again.

So she studied Marinette’s hair, her eyebrows hidden beneath her bangs. Her eyelashes. Her eyes stared into nothing, or maybe into something deep in her brain. Those tended to be the same. She wondered what she was thinking about.

Chloe had wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees. At some point, was it two? three? hours of sitting on the ground, Marinette said something.

“Do you,” she cleared her throat from disuse, “Do you need a place to stay?”

Chloe looked up sharply. Marinette also seemed surprised at the suggestion, despite the fact that she had offered it.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking... if you needed to...you could stay at my house…”

Of all the things Chloe had thought about, her physical things hadn’t even crossed her mind. Her physical home. Her home had collapsed. She’d cared so much about her shoe collection 12 hours ago and now she couldn’t be bothered.

“Oh…” Chloe lowered her face back into her knees, “I hadn’t thought about it, I guess.”

“Well, If you do…” Marinette trailed off, the offer hanging in the air. It was the official olive branch.

They hadn’t been fighting, but they weren’t friends by any means. It seemed like this was saying, “I’m willing to move on if you are.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right time, or maybe it was the best time. Maybe they desperately needed someone in their corner. Maybe Adrien hadn’t understood Chloe for a long time. Maybe Marinette and Chloe had always understood each other.

Maybe seeking attention meant seeking those that were willing to give it.

“Thank you.” And they fell back into silence.

If Chloe had thought about it, which she hadn’t, she’d probably assume that she’d stay at Adrien’s. But Adrien was in his own headspace now.

Then her thoughts shifted to the denial. This denial was justified, Chloe felt, because Adrien had practically been saying it all day.

“None of this is right.” Which in Chloe’s mind translated to, “None of this is real.”

She had felt the wrongness before but now couldn’t attribute it to anything but grief. People always tried to bargain, right?

What if none of this is real? What if my parents aren’t dead? What if I can get them back? But Adrien hadn’t lost anything. What excuse did he have for making up shit in his brain? This is what Chloe said to herself in order to decide that whatever Adrien needed to do to “fix” things, she’d do it. Because maybe, just maybe, the madman was right. That her parents shouldn’t be dead. That this was fixable.

Nino and Alya had explained their dreams to Marinette. They were more than dreams, they all understood that, but Marinette was having a hard time latching on.

“We just need to know what you think feels wrong,” Nino said. Marinette scoffed, not out of malice but out of frustration. Her arms crossed defensively against her chest, her head shook bouncing hair on her shoulders, her mouth struggled to form words. Adrien understood that frustration, as he was currently feeling it as well. It was not being able to find words that should feel so normal, and knowing something is wrong but not anything else.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what feels wrong! Everything feels wrong!”

It occurred to Adrien that you can’t really feel water when you’re surrounded by it.

Everything about Marinette’s life was wrong, as far as he could tell. He wouldn’t be able to tell you what was correct exactly, only that if you squint really hard something about her was familiarly incorrect.

It wasn’t easy to explain, and he wasn’t the best with words anyway. He glanced at his friends, who returned his glances, each with a tinge of sympathy. He couldn’t tell who the sympathy was directed towards but suspected it wasn’t mutually exclusive.

Adrien was obviously more affected by this phenomenon. Dreams were one thing, but Adrien’s mood had been violently swinging all day. It was to be expected in the midst of a national crisis, but this had begun before the building fell.

He cried when there was nothing to cry at, both in happiness and grief. He felt as though he were living two days simultaneously, one very different, but maybe not much better.  And to him, Marinette was at the epicenter.

Feelings around her thrashed like waves against a rocky shore. He tapped his foot impatiently and crossed his arms, becoming jittery. He paced around the hallway.

“Adrien?” Chloe sounded more concerned than she really should have been. Adrien felt guilty for not being the one next to her to deal with her parents. And then ashamed of his guilt and then ashamed of his own self-pity.

He was so caught up in his own bullshit that he had stood to the side while Marinette, of all people, comforted her. It was bizarre, wrong, and also the best thing to happen today.

“Sorry, I’m just...confused.” His mental failings shouldn’t be a priority right now. People have died.

It wasn’t his place to be more distraught than those around him. His parents were still alive and well, his home unaffected, his life unchanged. That felt incorrect too, somehow. He felt as though his life had changed significantly, just in a way that was unplaceable. Like pointing at it would be pointing at air.

The news outlets and websites said that outside wouldn’t be safe until the next morning so everyone camped out in the main gym. There were a scattered number of teachers that had arrived before the collapse but apparently most had been stuck in a Ladybug induced roadblock.

They instructed students to stay calm and a few reached out to Chloe specifically, checking in occasionally, but Chloe made it clear that the teachers should focus on the other students. They looked surprised at this sentiment, but continued to try to help those who seemed more visibly distraught than Chloe.

They had been advised to stay put until the next morning, so the teachers gathered yoga mats and the school’s few sleeping bags from upperclassmen camping trips. A few blankets scattered the floor. There wasn’t enough for everyone so some used jackets or backpacks as pillows. The students gathered together, select laughter echoing through the gymnasium. But otherwise, it was about as quiet as an entire school of 14-18 years could be.

They struggled through another explanation, but Marinette remained unconvinced. Chloe explained her dream, eerily similar to Nino’s about a purple butterfly and not being in control. They watched her carefully. When she was done, she looked over at Marinette, who looked sympathetic and maybe a little confused.

“I’m sorry, this all seems odd, I’ll give you that, but I just don’t recognize it as familiar.”

They all turned to look at Adrien. He’s the one who needed this, he’s the one with the next step. He had no answers. He hadn't told her his dream yet. He wasn't sure he could.

“No, I’m sorry. Maybe...maybe it’s nothing. Maybe nothing is going on.” he pressed his palms into his eyes, rubbing away a headache he didn’t know he had. “Maybe I’m going crazy.”

“How can you say that?” Chloe glared, “How can you claim, how can you...give me hope that none of this is right, that maybe we’re in some sort of dream, and then just toss it aside like it’s nothing? What if my parents are supposed to be alive right now, Adrien? Do you want to just ignore it? You want me to live a life I’m not supposed to be living?”

“Chloe, I never claimed this world isn’t real, just that it’s wrong.”

“Then that’s what I’m saying. This world...isn’t real.”

“Chloe…” Alya reached a hand out to her.

“No.” Chloe stood, turned, and walked away, leaving Alya’s hand suspended in the air.

For the first time in months, Marinette slept in a building with other people in it. More people than she ever had, really. She slept on a blanket, sharing with Alya and Chloe, who had come back only when she realized she didn’t want to be alone.

She didn’t say that, of course, but no one commented on her return either. They didn’t talk about the feeling for the rest of the night, instead opting for silence or half-hearted plans for the next day.

Adrien said Chloe could stay at his house. Chloe didn’t even have to ask. Marinette and Chloe shared a glance before Chloe agreed.

Marinette had a dream on the gymnasium floor. She wasn’t lying when she said Alya, Chloe and Nino’s dreams didn’t sound familiar, but this one was not unfamiliar .

She stood on a rooftop, wind-battered her skin, and she was cold. She couldn’t possibly be really cold, it wasn’t real, but she shivered. She felt the chill on her arms. It wasn’t right.

When she looked down at her hands she was surprised to see them. She felt as though something was missing from her skin. Her hands bolted to her ears and felt nothing.

In front of her, the scene was incomprehensible. There were two people, wearing garishly ridiculous outfits. It didn’t seem like they should be a threat, but in her dream, her pulse quickened.

One of them had a gun. It wasn’t pointing at her but to an empty spot next to her. Panic ran through her spine all the way down to her bare fingertips. There’s someone missing. Where...where was he? For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to look downwards. She knew something was just below her vision if she could move her neck every time she pulled, her vision remained stiff, forcing her chin to remain level.

The woman with the gun, she sauntered to them, Marinette and the Something. She dipped into her blind spot and came up with a ring. The man, he looked grief-stricken, panicked, and angry.

“NATALIE.” his voice boomed in the quiet city. It...shouldn't have been quiet.

“Relax, boss, once you have the miraculous everything will go back to normal. You’ll have your family back.”

“Then give me the ring”

“Hold on a second, I want to talk to the girl.”

“No, enough of this. Give me the miraculous.”

Then she held up the gun to his chest. Marinette couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. She was hopeless. She was helpless. She was weak.

“Give me the earrings, Gabriel.”

“Nat-”

A click of the gun, “I’m not asking.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll get you your family back Gabriel, but I want something too.”

“How do I know you’ll bring her back?”

“Because I don’t want you causing me trouble on the other side. Gotta keep you fat and happy. The earrings.”

He held them out. She turned around and walked where Marinette couldn’t see. A shining light sparked into her field of vision. And then a stronger brighter one a few seconds later. And then...and then there was nothing but light.

Marinette woke up her arms tight around Chloe. She gasped (from the dream) and made eye contact with the back of Chloe’s head. She’d gotten so tense during her nightmare that she’d pulled Chloe against her chest.

Okay, I’m big spooning Chloe Bourgeois.

She couldn’t even think beyond that. She felt another body on her other side, Alya sleeping peacefully.

She needed space. Room to breathe. Sitting up proved to be easier than standing up. She managed to get free, grab her backpack, and flee into the hallway, still buzzing with public school lighting. She aimlessly walked the hallways. A teacher stopped her once, she quickly rambled about going to the bathroom and they let her go. She took deep breaths trying to remember everything about that dream. The names. The faces. The location. It already began to blur in her mind. She remembered the gun and the earrings and the ring and the chill on her skin and how wrong it felt. She felt something, someone, missing from her field of vision.

She sat and drew everything she remembered. Her hands, the roof, the gun, the earrings and the ring in the hand of the wrong people. The flashing in the corner of her eye, the grief stricken angry face of the man in purple. The cruelness of the woman in blue. She couldn’t quite remember her face.

Adrien wasn’t going to sleep, he knew that when he woke up this morning. So when he saw Marinette grab her backpack and run, it wasn’t a large leap to try and talk to her. Problem was he couldn’t find her.

“Mr. Agreste, what are you doing up and about?”

“Bathroom, ma’am.”

The teacher narrowed her eyes.

“No fooling around, Mr. Agreste.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He couldn’t remember what he had done to receive a reputation of tomfoolery but apparently word had spread. That wasn’t even his teacher. He almost asked if she had seen Marinette, but that wouldn’t have helped.

He found Marinette on the roof.

“What the fuck, Marinette?”

“GOD! Fuck, Agreste, you scared me.”

“You’re on the roof.”

“Well spotted.”

“Why?”

“Needed some air.”

“Toxic, debris-filled air?”

“That warning came down hours ago.”

“What are you doing?” he gestured to her notebook.

“Drawing, Agreste, what does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re on the ROOF during a traumatic NATIONAL CRISIS. Please just come down.”

“Oh. OH! No, Agreste, I’m fine. I’m good. I just needed to…” she trailed off.

He looked around. From here, you could see where Le Grand Paris used to be.

“The world is fucked,” he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down next to Marinette. She flipped her notebook closed. She was drawing a pair of hands.

“Well spotted.”

“Marinette, I think it’s my fault.”

“Full of yourself, are we? Center of the world Adrien Agreste? The only one who realizes the world is fucked?”

“Jesus, I’m trying to,” he sighed, “Fuck, Marinette.”

They were silent for a while.

“Marinette, your life is wrong.”

"You keep saying that."

"I mean it, I don't think this is how things were supposed to go."

"You can't just brush off things you don't like with denial, Agreste. At least, that's why my therapist says."

Adrien laughed, "Watch me."

"Blondie, I can't help but want to believe you, and that's why I can't do this. Whatever it is you're doing. I can't let myself believe that nothing is permanent. I can't just go along with it because I think I'll see my parents on the other side."

"No, I know that. Of course, I know that." Adrien uses his hands to push himself off the ground, spinning that he's sitting across from her, "I just...Marinette I'm going to tell you my dream."

"Ooookay."

"No, my literal dream, the dream that I had last night, not like, my existential drea- ya know what, never mind."

"No, I get it," Marinette smiles, and it's good to see.

"Alright, I'm on this roof."

His dream starts on a roof. Of course, of fucking course it does.

"And there's something next to me that I can't see. And I'm looking at this roof and there's a guy in purple, with, like, this butterfly brooch on it. It's a ridiculous fucking outfit." Marinette has to smile. "And he's talking some big game about something miraculous. And I'm pissed. I'm angry as fuck. And then this equally gaudy bitch pulls out this canister that's got my MOM inside which is wild, and then I'm cussing this guy out. Just screaming at him. I honestly don't remember what I said. Then he moves to that place I can't look, ya know, that blind spot? And comes back with earrings. Then the bitchy lady comes back and I wake up."

"Wow, that's quite the dream." If Marinette hadn't experienced what she just experienced, she would have thought that's a fairly normal dream dream.

"Now, I know how that sounds."

"Sounds like a dream," she lied.

"No, I know, dreams are crazy in general, but I swear more happened than that. I just, it felt so weird, like I was actually on the ruth, filled with rage. I just need to know who was next to me."

Me. Adrien was next to me.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Fic -- And we are kind to snails

Gen, 3700 words. Story time on the Razor Crest! It was obviously way too early to introduce the kid to combat training, but there were other ways to prepare a child for the world, surely.

If that meant Din was occasionally stuck trying to imitate animal calls for the enjoyment and edification of a delighted and indefatigable one-person audience, so be it.

Can also be found here on AO3

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

Din had, he was slowly becoming aware, created a monster.

“Da-wah,” the baby announced, reaching his arms out to be picked up and dropping the holodisc next to him in Din’s lap once he was safely positioned.

“...oh,” Din said faintly, slumping back a little in the pilot’s chair as he kept the baby steady with one hand. “Again?”

The baby turned wide expectant eyes on him, and Din — who had in fact been planning to troubleshoot the concerning noise one of the engines had been making the last time they took off — sighed. Well, he supposed that would be easier to get done uninterrupted once the baby was asleep anyway.

“Right, again,” Din agreed, and went to activate the ship’s holoprojector on the dashboard before sliding the disc in for the second time that day.

The reading had been a bit of a shot in the dark. It was obviously way too early to introduce the kid to combat training and he may never be suited for it in a way Din would be able to teach him, even in maturity — and for all Din knew about the kid’s species that might not even be within his own lifetime, it didn’t seem worth holding his breath on this one. There were other ways to prepare a child for the world, though, surely. It was probably a bit on the premature side for engineering too, since the kid still had a marked tendency to put everything he could pick up into his mouth at least once, which ruled out most of Din’s own expertise.

He’d mulled it over for a few days until a half-buried memory of his parents reading to him had presented itself for consideration. He no longer recalled what exactly they’d read — only the feeling of sitting nestled between them, his mother’s fingers running through his hair, the way his father’s voice had taken on a specific cadence when he read aloud. That they would sometimes switch off doing the voices for the dialogue so it became almost like a real conversation.

It was… well. He still remembered some of it.

Recognizing in himself no great talent for acting Din had elected to aim for something more practical, at least to begin with. In the end he’d chosen something he hoped would be both suitable for a kid and something useful to teach him and gotten, among a few other things, a holodisc that included information on and pictures of a great variety of animals from around the galaxy. Despite the breezy assurances of some people who were born and raised in the tribe, Din suspected that there was such a thing as too early an age to be introduced to the bloodthirsty treatises of Mandalore the Conqueror.

As it turned out the kid had taken to the whole thing with so much gusto that getting him to go to bed without reading at least a little first was starting to become a minor diplomatic incident. It didn’t seem to matter so much what they actually looked at — Din sometimes wondered if he could have gotten away with reading the ship’s manual aloud every night and had the same entranced reception. But for that space of time every night and sometimes during the day, the kid was glued to Din’s lap and poured his full undivided attention into whatever was set before him, and filling that time with anything less than worthy of that attention felt unacceptable.

If that meant Din was occasionally stuck trying to imitate animal calls for the enjoyment and edification of a delighted and indefatigable one-person audience, so be it.

The holoprojector sprang sluggishly to life and the image flickered until Din leaned forward to give the dashboard a succinct and practiced thump. He really should open that up and take a proper look at it one of these days, it’d been acting up for years and the components were likely older than him. “There we go. Okay, then. What are we looking at today?”

In the flickering light of hyperspace illuminating the cockpit he squinted at the small hovering icons that served as previews for the full articles, looking for one that seemed interesting or failing that an old favorite. Before he could settle on something the kid leaned forward and pointed at one of the icons with an intent yelp, so Din opened that one and gave a surprised huff of laughter when the large four-legged bulk of the creature rose from the holoprojector, its horned head immediately familiar where it was lifted in a silent roar. He hadn’t realized the disc included extinct species. The kid glanced up at him, waiting for him to start the normal routine of saying the animal’s name.

“That’s a mythosaur,” Din said, unaccountably pleased the kid had zoomed right in on it. “Our people used to ride them, a long time ago.”

The kid made a long intrigued coo and reached out towards the hologram, moving his hand like he meant to stroke the mythosaur’s horned, ferocious head.

“Too bad they’re extinct or we could’ve gotten ourselves one,” Din said, genuinely a little wistful. “Wouldn’t that have been something?”

Apparently the kid got just enough of that to fix Din with a wide-eyed look, ears perking up in breathless expectation.

Regretful to burst his bubble Din was forced to clarify: “I don’t have one. They aren’t around anymore.”

After a moment’s pause the baby took this revelation with somber dignity, turning back to the mythosaur. “Bah-ta,” he intoned, waving his little hand at the hologram like he was bidding the creature a solemn farewell.

“You still got one here, though,” Din said, in the hopes of softening the blow, tugging gently on the mythosaur skull pendant the kid wore around his neck most waking hours. ”See how they’ve got the same horns?”

The baby grabbed the pendant and glanced down at it, then between it and the hologram a few times, before holding the pendant up for Din’s inspection with a triumphant happy cry.

“Yeah. We keep the important parts,” Din said, grinning a bit at the enthusiasm.

The baby absentmindedly stuck the pendant in his mouth, small toes wiggling in contentment as he turned back to the hologram, clearly awaiting what was next. Biting his lip Din added ‘toy mythosaur?’ to his inner list of things to look out for in markets when he went to resupply and then read off the sparse information the holodisc’s compilers had thought worthy of inclusion.

“Remind me to find a more exciting version of this for you one day,” Din said as he closed the article. “There’s gotta be some better stuff about them out there.”

The baby gave a garbled sound around the pendant, idly swinging his legs while Din picked a new article at random, coming up with something aquatic and vaguely frog-like from a planet covered almost entirely in shallow oceans. The kid’s eyes sparkled.

“I think you’ll find that’s a lunch buffet too big even for you, buddy,” Din told him, moving through the different pictures of the sort-of frogs flitting between corals and strange tentacle-like sea plants. “They’re at least twice your size and squirt poison. Which apparently has psychedelic effects for some species. Huh. Let’s definitely steer clear of that, then.”

Quite apart from anything else Din had no idea how much the baby’s inexplicable mind powers were controlled by conscious thought and how much was purely instinctual — Din already felt out of his depth enough as it was with this, he could only imagine with dread the results of any unforeseen variables. If Din had already wondered whether the kid could lift himself into the air as well as things around him, it was only a question of time before the baby’s inventive and ever-active brain came up with the same idea. Din tried to keep it out of his mind most of the time, outside of the involuntary planning for endless contingencies he engaged in when he couldn’t fall asleep at night. One particularly fevered evening he had, for a while, seriously considered padding the entire ceiling of the interior of the Razor Crest, just to be safe.

After the frogs were duly ‘ooh’ed and hungrily ‘aaah’d over they continued through a few types of bugs until Din used his veto by right of being the person in control of the holoprojector to get them over onto something else. He never knew the universe contained quite so many beetles or that they all looked basically the same. The Naboo guarlara got a raucous reception, though Din suspected this might have more to do with the fanciful and brightly coloured costumes of the royalty depicted riding on them than the animal itself.

Hm. Maybe hunting down a history book or two might be a good call, actually, and not just for the kid. Din had never had much of an interest in the subject himself — surely the world was bleak enough without going around dredging up the muds of ancient strife and suffering to cloud the waters even further. But these Jedi were currently the best lead he had on finding anyone like the baby out there, and if they had once been powerful enough to challenge a Mandalore… they had to have left tracks somewhere. He couldn’t imagine the Empire having tolerated information about formidable sorcerers, however ancient, being freely available, and sometimes knowledge faded surprisingly quickly if it was stamped out hard enough. Off the top of his head he was having a hard time coming up with anyone among his established contacts who might have an interest in banned literature on the side. People in his line of work did not tend towards bookishness, by and large. But then again they might have clients who did and who had the credits to back it up. It could be a useful trail to pursue, anyway, and less risky than trying to ask around about such a loaded subject in person.

What he’d do if he actually found these people was a bridge he’d have to cross — or burn behind him while fleeing blaster bolts, he could only wryly extrapolate from recent events — if he ever managed to get to it.

Still half-lost in thought Din switched to a new animal at the kid’s urging, then startled out of his distraction when the kid sat up straighter in his lap and gave a call of accusation and reproof that came straight from the depths of his little body.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Din blinked at the hologram of the round-faced fuzzy creatures and tried to understand what was freaking the kid out about them.

“Eh!” the kid insisted, gesturing hotly at the hologram.

Realization finally dawned; Din had to push down a laugh. “Oh yeah, you had a little run-in with one of those on Sorgan, didn’t you. It’s called a Loth-cat, it’s a type of tooka. It’s not dangerous,” he added, chuckling a little despite himself when the small body in his lap remained rigid with outrage and resentment. He wrapped his arms more securely around the kid and stroked a calming hand over his side. “Some people keep them as pets.”

The kid still scowled distrustfully at the image of the Loth-cat like he found this very hard to believe, but burrowed closer against Din’s chest, tucking himself into the crook of his arm.

“See there,” Din said, pointing out the kittens cowering behind the bigger animal. “It has little ones to take care of. That’s why it’s hissing, it’s protecting them.”

Blinking slowly the kid seemed to consider this, his tiny hand wrapped around one of Din’s fingers. He gave a quizzical sound and looked up at Din, pointing at a kitten too.

“Uh-huh,” Din said. “It’s a baby. Like you.”

Softening slightly the kid lowered his hand again and tilted his head to one side.

“That’s the parent,” Din said, indicating the adult. “Buir. And they’re its children. Ade.”

He still couldn’t quite tell how much language the kid actually understood yet, but it felt like the right sort of thing to do, so he kept going.

“Together they’re a family. Aliit. I, uh. Don’t know if they really do clans, but it’s the same word.”

The kid gave a thoughtful sound and fumbled for a handhold on Din’s armor. Din gave him a squeeze, stroking his head when he butted his forehead against his palm to ask for it without taking his big dark eyes off the hologram.

“Every being gets scared and angry if its children are in danger,” Din said quietly, rocking the child gently on his lap. Since this one had sparked an interest, and to give the kid some time to get used to seeing the animal without fear, they read all the information provided, going through galactic prevalence, social structures, speculated planet of origin for the tooka, anatomy and behavioral patterns, history of domestication and hunting strategies. Din was almost sure most of it went right over the kid’s head, but the attentive tilt of his ears never wavered and he seemed to listen the whole way, even glancing questioningly up at Din when he fumbled a little in getting to the next page at one point and left a pause in the flow. Maybe the facts weren’t the most important part.

The last image of the article was of the Loth-cat asleep, its kittens tucked close all around it. Apparently reaching a place where he was ready to bury the hatchet and extend a gracious hand of peace the kid finally leaned forward and tried to pat the Loth-cat’s head like he’d done with the mythosaur, making a soothing sort of warbling sound.

“Yeah, we’re not gonna mess with its babies,” Din agreed. “It doesn’t need to be scared.”

“Nahwa-lah,” the baby babbled sagely, sitting back and leaning against Din’s side again.

“Well, while we’re on things you’ve already seen before...” Din did a quick search and found the large one-horned head he’d had the dubious pleasure of surveying from extremely up close several times.

The baby stilled in his arms, ears perking up.

“You remember this one too, huh. Guess it’d be hard to forget. Well, it’s called a mudhorn,” Din said. “In the capacity as your father, let me take the opportunity to advise you to learn from my mistakes and leave their eggs the hell alone. My vision still goes double sometimes if I turn my head too quickly.”

“Aaah,” the kid said, imperiously waving his hand in the way that meant he wanted the next page of the article, then let out a squeak when the next picture was a mudhorn contentedly grazing with its calf, plump and with a head nearly comically oversized, the horn only about the length of a human hand. The baby pointed to the calf, his excitement so radiant that Din had to smile.

“Yeah, that’s another baby. Actually...” Din knitted his brow as he scanned through the article until he found the section about anatomy and brought up a hologram of the mudhorn’s skull in profile. “Look familiar?”

The baby’s mouth turned into a little ‘o’ of surprise; he glanced up at Din, stretching up as far as he could to tentatively poke the edge of a shoulder pauldron.

“That’s right,” Din confirmed, twisting a little so the kid got a clearer view. “That’s our signet. Which you should rightfully get most of the honour for, honestly, I wasn’t doing so hot on my own.”

Running a three-fingered hand back and forth over the edge of the signet the baby babbled away, his free hand gesturing towards the hologram. Din nodded and ‘uh-huh’ed dutifully along until the kid’s story culminated in him throwing both his arms up with a shout and looking up at Din in a ‘can you believe it?’ sort of way.

“I did go flying a couple of times back there,” Din hazarded while sitting up straight again, and was rewarded with a firm nod. The kid chattered some more and patted Din’s breastplate as if in reassurance, pressing his small round cheek to the smooth metal and blinking cheerily up at him.

Din’s chest did some strange twisting things he didn’t quite understand.

“How could I be worried out there when I’ve got you watching my back, huh?” Din said thickly, cupping the back of the baby’s head in his hand and stroking his thumb along the downy crown of it, making his ears droop in contentment and his eyes slip closed as he craned into it.

Clearing his throat Din turned back to the hologram and indicated the bundle of nerves right behind the mudhorn’s jaw on the anatomy cross section. “Anyway, it went down so quickly because I managed to get it right here after you incapacitated it. Cut that connection and it’s lights out right away. Odd quirk of anatomy, but there you are. You’d do better to snipe it from a distance, though, under normal circumstances — if I didn’t have a set time I had to be back with the egg it probably would have been smarter to lie in wait until it emerged from the cave on its own, shoot it before it even knew we were there. Even tossing a few grenades into the cave would be a better choice than taking it on up close, if you don’t have to worry about the state of the egg. I’m sorry, I realize it is probably a bit on the early side for tactical reviews for you,” he added apologetically, as the baby blinked at him in what looked like well-meaning and attentive incomprehension. “...I’m not very used to having conversations about anything else. I’ll work on it.”

Thankfully the kid was already a far smoother conversationalist than Din and simply tugged on Din’s hand insistently until they could go back to the mudhorn calf, squealing happily as he spotted it again, so Din rather assumed he was forgiven.

The next animal was another bug, so Din quickly skipped it while the kid looked the other way. They detoured through the squills of Tatooine, who despite being largely composed of leathery skin, teeth, aggression and generalized malice got a much friendlier initial greeting than the small fuzzy Loth-cat had. Go figure.

Then they reached one that made Din trail off mid-sentence and grow quiet.    

The creature itself was something small and pointy-faced and furry that lived in the high mountains of Alderaan — or at least it had, before, well. There was a twinge of something he couldn’t place in his gut; he’d heard about it, of course, since he hadn’t been actively living under a rock at the time and the destruction of an entire world is the sort of thing that fights itself to the front of people’s minds no matter where you go. It had seemed nearly absurd, though, hard to really imagine, enough so that he hadn’t thought much about it one way or another until he’d seen the look on Cara’s face when she heard the name of her homeplanet spoken by the wraith-like shade of the empire that destroyed it. She had looked the way Din felt hearing ’Mandalore’ from Gideon’s mouth.  

This holodisc must have been put together a while ago. The creature wasn’t marked down as extinct yet.

Din glanced down at the kid, who was already looking up at him, getting a bit heavy-eyed but otherwise perfectly cheerful, not seeming to suspect anything was amiss. A collection of memories stirred in the depths of Din’s mind, though mercifully vague and transient — something about the beginning of the war, his parents’ voices, low and worried, conferring in the kitchen when they thought he’d fallen asleep, the slight brittleness to his father’s smile when he called him home from play in the evenings, just a bit earlier than he would have before. He wondered now if they’d been planning to leave or if they had surmised, probably correctly, that there would be nowhere truly safe to go and that the only thing they could do was to shield him from the worst of the fear.

He’d been frightened anyway, of course, but they’d tried. It seemed to him an ancient, unspoken sort of pact, that trying and that fear. A bittersweet creed all its own.

“Let’s skip this one for now,” Din said, as lightly as he could manage while he skipped the article and wrapped one arm more protectively around the baby. “Maybe another time.”

The kid didn’t seem to mind, only gave a contented yawn and turned towards Din’s chest in that way that meant drowsiness was finally catching up with him, his ears fluttering languidly. Din found a smile tugging at his mouth and started on the next animal anyway, in the knowledge that it would probably do the trick.

Din’s hunch was right; between the rdava-bird’s colouring and their mating calls the baby’s eyes were starting to slip closed every so often and he had curled himself up completely in the crook of Din’s arm, sucking absently on the pendant while he fiddled with the edge of the cloth of Din’s gambeson. Finally, in the middle of a description of the bird’s favoured habitat, his head drooped towards his chest and Din decided it might be time to call it.

“Time to sleep?” Din asked, stroking his thumb over the kid’s forehead. The baby gave a weak cry of protest and struggled to sit up a bit, managing to keep his eyes open for all of five bleary seconds before they fell closed again. “Sssh. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, you can sleep. I’ll be here.”

Whether because of the words or simply the cadence of his voice the baby relaxed, gazing up at Din with soft-eyed sleepiness and the perfect trust that still made Din feel a little dizzy if he let himself think about it too hard. He swallowed and stroked the baby’s ear, rocking him slightly when his eyes finally slipped all the way closed and stayed that way.

“I’ll be here,” he repeated quietly, holding the kid for longer than he probably needed to before getting up to place him in his seat and tuck him in.

You have no idea how desperately I NEED Mando having to actually tackle a children’s picture book about mythosaurs and being persuaded by big hopeful eyes to do the voices, I’m probably going to have to write it for the sake of my sanity if nothing else

Title is from Fleur Adcock's poem 'For a Five Year Old', because the combination of that poem and this show, what is the word... absolutely devastates me emotionally.

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 31/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

“Darling, I hate to wake you, but we need to be leaving soon,” Loki’s voice woke you the next morning. You actually opened your eyes, instead of just snuggling closer against him, since he wasn’t actually in the bed. You had to see where he was. You sat up and soon had a giant plate of breakfast in your lap, courtesy of the silly Trickster boyfriend. You smiled up at him. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and saw that it was just barely dawn.

You opened your mouth to ask Loki if he’d eaten, but shut it again, frustrated that you’d forgotten. You really didn’t want to knock Loki out again. He would get annoyed if you kept doing it, no matter if it was an accident. You really needed to get rid of this power ASAP. It was nothing but trouble, which is exactly what Balder wanted. He had wanted you to be dependent on him as the only person you could communicate with. You weren’t going to let him win, you just needed to remember that you had to keep your mouth shut. [Have you eaten?] you signed at Loki. You didn’t want to use telepathy right now, just in case he did need to borrow power from you to teleport across the realm.

“I have,” he replied. You gave him a look. He lied too often and too well. “No tricks,” he added with a chuckle. You accepted his word then and dug into your breakfast. Thor burst back into the room from the bathroom while you were eating. You was just glad he had put pants on. Loki looked equally relieved. He was wearing a different outfit, so you assumed Loki had conjured some new clothes for them both. They didn’t have any bags or anything. You finished your breakfast and got out of the bed, automatically checking to make sure your dagger sheath was in place. “Kat…” Loki started. You looked over at him, giving him your undivided attention. He only used your real name when he had something important or difficult to say. “If you are up to it, there is one more slight deception we should do…” he started.

“Just ask her, Brother. I am sure she will agree,” Thor grumbled as he finished putting on his shirt and started on his armor. Loki hesitated, so Thor continued instead. “It is a good idea for you to appear in front of the court when you get back to the palace as though you just escaped from Balder. In the same dress and condition we found you in. It will gain our position against Balder favor with the court and those hiding there who might be sympathetic towards his cause. Much as you do not want to admit it, sister, you are a favorite among the court, especially when they can see how you have tamed Loki,”

“She has not tamed me!” Loki protested and spluttered. 

You laughed at that.  You couldn’t help it.  He looked like a drowned cat when he spluttered like that. 

“They will be horrified by what Balder did to you and took from you, but they will also appreciate your strength for escaping, especially if we can show them exactly what condition you were in when you escaped,” Thor explained carefully. It was strange to hear him speak so calculatingly. He wasn’t jovial for once and was actually serious, and speaking like the heir to the throne.

[You want you to lie to them?] you signed. You were trying to save your magic for helping Loki teleport us across the realm. Loki translated instead of just answering you himself, which was very considerate of him.

“Not lie,” Thor hedged. “I am not asking you to exaggerate or lie, just to show them what he did to you,” he added. You nodded and used magic and a couple well placed illusions with the help of the mirror in the room to get the look correct. You were back in the torn, dirty, shift dress, barefoot, with illusion injuries on your wrists from the manacles, your feet from walking through the woods, and your face and split lip from where Balder had hit you. your hair was a dirty, tangled mess.

[Happy?] you signed at them as you went to pick up Loki’s cloak from where it was draped over a chair.

“Thank you,” Thor replied, catching the gist without Loki’s help.

“Darling, does it not defeat the point if you steal my cloak?” Loki asked gently. 

You shook your head as you fastened it around your shoulders. /You love me too much/ you projected the telepathy so Thor could hear too. /The court will believe that you would choose to use magic to get you home faster instead of fixing my clothes and appearance first. They will not believe that you would not give me your cloak at the very least before you teleport us across the realm/

“She is correct, Brother,” Thor replied. 

Loki sighed came over to you and settled the cloak over your shoulders and fastened it for you. “I love you, darling, and I will do my best to make sure this ordeal with the court is over quickly.” you nodded and hugged him. “You crafted your illusions through the soulbond, didn’t you?” he asked with a chuckle. You nodded. Crafting them that way meant that Loki could touch them and they wouldn’t break. Illusions generally didn’t survive physical contact. “We should get going. Thor, will you be alright until Father arrives?” Loki asked, looking over you to Thor.

Thor rolled his eyes in reply. “How many missions is this, and still my little brother worries over my safety?" 

You laughed at the familiar line.

"We will see you back at the palace,” Loki replied instead of dignifying that with an answer.

“Get her home safely, Brother,” Thor replied.

[Are you sure you don’t need help?] you signed at Loki.

“Actually, that is a better idea, darling,” Loki smiled and kissed the top of your head. He pulled out a familiar spellbook and looked for the spell. “You do not need to say the words, just call up your magic and think them,” he added when he found the spell and held open the book in front of you so you could both see it. “Thor, when you and Father are done, let me know and I will open a portal for you,“ Loki instructed. "I could not open a portal to you yesterday, since I had to use the soulbond to find your exact location. We can use one to go home, though, since we know where home is,” he explained to you. You nodded. That made sense.  You liked it when the magic made sense.  

“Get home safely,” Thor bid you. You waved to him and turned back to the spell. You and Loki both recited it, though your recitation was silent. You felt the power drain from both of you into the portal, but it was much less than it would have been trying to do the spell alone. The portal flashed to life in front of you. You stepped through and it snapped shut behind you again the instant you were through.

You ended up right outside of the throne room. You both paused to catch your breath before continuing. “Ready?” Loki asked you softly. You straightened your spine and nodded. You needed to show them that even though you looked like hell, you were still their princess and still a strong capable warrior.

Loki opened the door to the throne room and you both strode inside. There were gasps of shock and horror as you made your way to the thrones. Sif jumped to her feet when she saw me, Frigga was close behind, though more slowly, as she still had to maintain her regal air. you noticed as you was walking that one of your feet was leaving a blood trail. Oops. Apparently you had actually cut it during your hike through the woods yesterday. It must’ve reopened at some point.

Loki was following you in guard position, just as he had done through your junior year of high school. This was your show, your story. He was here for support. /You’re bleeding/ he thought at you.

/Apparently/ you replied. /Will you fix it after this?/ you asked. You couldn’t heal yourself. You could only heal others.  It was the one limitation of your healing abilities.

/Of course/

Sif ran off of the dais that the thrones were on to wrap you in a hug. “Kat! You’re ok. We were so worried!” she exclaimed. You nodded and hugged her back. Frigga joined you an instant later.

“Daughter, I am glad you are safe,” she said as she wrapped you in a hug next.

/Thank you/ you used telepathy to speak to them both.

“What Loki reported is true, then? Balder used some kind of magic to turn your voice into a weapon?” Frigga asked gently. 

You nodded. /Shall I show them?/ you asked.  You needed her permission to terrify the court.  It was a whole big thing of being royal.

/Are you up to it?/ she replied telepathically.

/I am. They need to know/

“I would hear your testimony, daughter. Show us what happened,” Frigga ordered loudly enough to be heard by the members of the court. She and Sif went back to their places. You stood below their thrones with Loki, who held your hand, a silent offer to feed you power if you needed it, as well as offering you support.

You closed your eyes in concentration and summoned the magic for this, and used illusion to play back your memories as a movie for the entire court to see. It was the same set of images you had shown to Loki and Thor the day before. You heard the gasps of horror and people wanting to disbelieve, but they couldn’t, not with the evidence standing before them.

“Thank you for your testimony, daughter,” Frigga said once the playback of your memories was over. You sagged against Loki. Your job here was finished, and that was two big spells you had done in a short period of time. He wrapped an arm around you, keeping you on your feet. “Loki, take your soulbond to the healers. We will discuss this further later,”

Loki bowed to Frigga, then swept you up into his arms, wrapped securely in his cloak. /I am taking you to the suite, not the healers, do not fear/ he thought at you. You just laid your head on his shoulder in reply. You only had one wound that needed healing and he could do it himself. You closed your eyes as he carried you home, content in his cool arms.

“You can drop the illusions now, darling,” Loki told you once you were safely in the family wing, away from prying eyes. You dropped the illusions then so they weren’t draining your power. “What on Midgard did you do to your hair?” he asked gently when your bird’s nest didn’t go back to normal when the rest of the illusions vanished. “This will take me forever to fix,” he whined, but it was a show. He loved playing with your hair and brushing it. Yes, he would be annoyed at all of the tangles, but he would enjoy fixing it. You just laughed in reply. When you got to the suite, he set you down on the couch so he could kneel in front of you to heal your foot. You kissed him when he had finished.

After you got a way too hot shower and dressed in pajamas you was fairly certain were stolen from Loki’s closet on Earth, he spent an hour brushing out the tangled mess your hair had become. It took an effort of magic, the hairbrush, and a generous amount of curse words, but he finally got it back to soft curls down your back. Once he was finished with that, you grabbed his hand to drag him from the suite. “Darling, where are you dragging me?” he asked, but didn’t try to stop me.

/Library/ you replied. /We have to figure out how Balder created these/ you pulled the power sphere you had stolen from Balder from where you had vanished it earlier, holding it to Loki so he could see it.

“Very well,” he replied. “But wait a moment,” you paused and dropped his hand. He used magic to summon real clothes for you instead of pajamas. It was a very simple casual dress. You would have protested, but you did have to pay attention to propriety when you were wandering the palace during the day. You walked together to the library and soon had a huge pile of books in front of you both to try to find out any information you could about the power spheres. Especially how to get the power back out of you.

[idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf]

You know I bet Ashfur didn’t start off as a psychopathic stalker. I bet it was a slow downward spiral. And getting into Starclan wasn’t as easy as it may seem.

When his mother died, I can bet you anything that Ashpaw cried for days. Tucked away in his den, refusing to speak to anyone, even when Fernpaw and Cloudpaw tried to coax him out. Dustpelt scolded him for lazing about- Brindleface had been his sister, but Dustpelt was never the type to dwell on grief. Sandstorm eventually convinced everyone to leave Ashpaw alone. It was one of the few positive interactions he can remember with his half sister. Ashpaw was grateful for it. He didn’t truly get over his mother’s death until he watched Tigerstar bleed out. Although knowing he’d lured the dog’s that mauled her to their demise was satisfactory for a time as well. Ashfur never forgot how good it felt to see the cats responsible for what happened to his mother suffer. That was the most euphoric experience of his life, really. 

When Cloudpaw went missing, Ashpaw had been so worried. Much like when his mother died, he confined himself to his den, too scared for his brother to do anything. Dustpelt was less forgiving this time. Sandstorm wasn’t there to speak up for him. 

Ashpaw’s relationship with Cloudtail changed when the tom was made a warrior before him. Part of it was envy. His own brother was made a warrior while he and Fernpaw were left on the sidelines. Why? Because Bluestar trusted him for being Fireheart’s kin? Did she forget that Ashpaw and Fernpaw were her great nephew and niece? Whitestorms kits? His father’s side of the family had always been distant. Fireheart didn’t stand up for him. Brightpaw and Swiftpaw were ready to be warriors, he’d told Bluestar. Not a word on Ashpaw who’d congratulated his younger brother on becoming a warrior before him. Ashpaw would have gone with Swiftpaw’s crazy plans to prove themselves, if only he hadn’t been on patrol. Fernpaw told him about it later, before the rest of the clan knew. Ashpaw tried to go after them, and only at his sister’s pleading did he decide to stay.

He’d never been close to Whitestorm. But when his father was killed, Ashpaw (along with the other apprentices, of course) got to feel his killer’s blood beneath his paws. It was a moment, much like seeing the death of those responsible for killing Brindleface, that Ashfur relished for the rest of his life.

Ashfur watched his siblings drift away from him. Envy had distanced him from Cloudtail a little, but the thing that really tore them apart was when both Ferncloud and Cloudtail found mates. Cloudtail and Brightheart were so cute together and oh, wasn’t everyone so happy for them? And of course Ferncloud and Dustpelt quickly had a litter on the way, and everyone was overjoyed by the prospect of new kits. Yet Ashfur wasn’t. They were always so busy with their families. Their mates, their kits. Ashfur was jealous. They noticed. Everyone noticed. He’d become grumpy, withdrawn. His sister and brother still loved him, but he’d grown dependent on them. After their parents died, how could be not depend on his siblings for the affection he craved? It’s not like anybody else was offering it to Ashfur. His sister got the love she needed from her mate. Cloudtail had Firestar, Sandstorm, and of course his mate as well. Both his siblings had their kits to pour love into. What did Ashfur have? Only Cloudtail and Ferncloud. And yet they were never able to give him their undivided attention because they had their own families to care for now.

Ashfur, believe it or not, had never actually loved Squirrelflight. But he saw how lively she was. She was full of color and passion. And he wanted to feel that too. He wanted her joy and inspiration to rub off on him. He at least wanted someone who could give Ashfur the undivided attention he needed. After all, his siblings seemed so happy with their own families. All Ashfur needed was one of his own, and surely that would make him happy again. He tried to convince himself that he loved her. That it wasn’t just a way for him to fill the emptiness in his chest. People worried about him. Ferncloud looked at him with those soft, motherly green eyes and gently prodded him for information. Cloudtail tried to guide him into the forest for a walk, just to clear his head. But Ashfur ignored them, and they couldn’t give him their undivided attention forever. Eventually their other responsibilities would call them away, and Ashfur would be able to convince himself that they didn’t really care. That the only way to be happy was if he could be with Squirrelflight.

When he was rejected, Ashfur was desperate to feel anything but pain. He managed to convince himself that it was her fault. That she’d wronged him somehow. That was all he could do. Ashfur had convinced himself that this was his only chance for happiness (as wrong as he was). She was so bright and passionate and vibrant. Surely she could share some of that with Ashfur. Squirrelflight, in his eyes, was denying him the tiniest ounce of warmth he asked for. She said they could still be friends, but he couldn’t accept that. Ashfur needed to be the most important cat to somebody. Anybody. 

Revenge came naturally to him. He’d been responsible for the death’s of those who killed both his parents. And those moments had been the best of his life. The satisfaction brought to him by vengeance. He craved it. Somehow, Ashfur managed to convince himself that those three kits were necessary sacrifices.

After his death, Ashfur didn’t immediately go to Starclan. There was so much bitterness in his heart. It’s all he’d let himself feel for so long. Ashfur refused to feel any more heartbreak. He had enough heartbreak during his apprenticeship to last a lifetime. He’d tried so hard to transfer that pain into anger. When she found his body, Squirrelflight cried. Ashfur didn’t care, but he did notice. Ashfur noticed the compassion from her. That she would cry for a cat who threatened her kits and reputation. Who brought her so much pain. Somehow she mourned his death. Ashfur told himself it was guilt. That she felt bad for all she’d done to him. She’d done so much to hurt him, right? She deserved the pain, didn’t she? Ashfur told himself it was true and moved on. Hollyleaf cried too. Her pain was so clear. Ashfur didn’t understand it. Those dogs, Bone, Tigerstar. Seeing them dead had felt so good. Ashfur knew that seeing Hollyleaf and her siblings dead would have felt all the same had they burned in that fire. Why was she crying? It was revenge, wasn’t it? She should be reveling in it. Why wasn’t she reveling in it?!? Many cats mourned. Dustpelt and Sandstorm were two that surprised him. His half sister and his mentor had never been too invested in him. They weren’t close. And yet it was clear that they loved him nonetheless. Ashfur couldn’t grasp it. The whole clan was up in arms debating his death. Most of them grieved. He’d been alone, though, hadn’t he?!? Nobody loved him, that’s what he always told himself. But...come to think of it...Foxleap and Icecloud had tried to share tongues with him that day, hadn’t they? And Whitewing had asked him if he was alright, something about him looking ill. Rosepetal and Toadstep invited him on patrol, said they needed a talented hunter like him. Spiderleg had whispered some snide comment to Ashfur, a joke which he’d been too distracted to laugh at. The breaking point came when he saw Ferncloud sob into his fur. She was wailing, as if nothing else in the world mattered except that her brother was dead. Cloudtail couldn’t look at him. The tom walked out of camp halfway through the vigil and threw up. Neither ate for days. It took moons for them to start sleeping again. Ashfur followed them around and he wanted to cheer them up. He hadn’t felt the need to help anybody except himself in so long. He was sure they didn’t care enough about him to need his help. But they couldn’t see him. They couldn’t see him because he was dead. At first Ashfur told himself that their pain was Hollyleaf’s fault because she’d killed him, after all. But the way she’d cried. The regret in her eyes. Hollyleaf didn’t want to do it. It wouldn’t be realistic to say it was her fault. And it would have been so easy to blame Squirrelflight, but suddenly Ashfur found that he couldn’t.

That’s when he faded into Starclan. And he knew he didn’t deserve it. Ashfur knew he didn’t deserve to be there. Perhaps that’s why he went to Starclan. At first the tom avoided the cat’s he’d once loved. Nieces and nephews. His parents. When he finally ran into Brindleface he saw so much disappointment in her eyes. Ashfur dropped to his knees and cried. He wanted so badly for her forgiveness. Once the tom hadn’t even thought he needed to be forgiven. That he was some sort of martyr. And when he looked back at his mother, once his tears had faded, he saw love take hold of her expression, and he cried once again in her arms. After that the apologies were easier. Hollyleaf, Ferncloud, Sandstorm. The one cat he hadn’t the courage to lend one to was Squirrelflight. When she was in Starclan, he could feel her eyes on him. She knew he didn’t belong there. He knew it too. But he knew it was what it was, and maybe one day he’d be able to offer her an apology. It wasn’t enough. But it was all he had to give.

Ashfur didn’t become a better person on his own. He had to hurt a lot of people, including those he loved before he realized he needed to become one. A lot of the things he did are truly unforgivable. But he let himself get the help he needed, and he’s doing better in starclan. He’s trying to be better.