#i am so grateful for your presence in my life (and in my pocket. pocket friend <3) and i am !! really sending you the warmest hug

[rewh0re]

—968 words, angst, death, deep talks about life, cemeteries. yea ig that's it. yea also wrote this at 3 am guys i am mighty sleep deprived

a/n; atp I'm doing everything BUT studying or writing my gojo fic :D (gojo fic someday you'll see the light till then this megumi angst has to compensate for it) REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

megumi can never truly forget that memory.

he remembers clear blue skies and the occasional chirping of birds along with the flapping of their wings. white clouds slowly drifting in the air and dragonflies hovering over the grass. the trees were green and lush, the leaves gently rustling due to the cool breeze which could mean one thing alone—the advent of spring. there was a silence that washed his body with a strange type of peace, a peace he had never quite known, that he had just allowed himself to feel. and there was a presence—you—standing beside him, looking at the unknown grave, head tilted slightly and hands deep in your pockets.

he couldn't help but think—there was so much life bursting amidst a place that housed the dead.

megumi never liked cemeteries. they made him sad, unhappy, gloomy in a way. but you found a certain peace in them. to walk in silence, looking at the many graves—you had said it calmed one's soul. made one think. made one feel grateful for their life.

"it's almost amusing, don't you think?" you had asked, breaking your silence.

"dead people amuse you now?" megumi looked over at you to find you still looking at the grave. how could it ever be amusing to look at a stranger's grave? he swore that sometimes even you didn't understand what you were saying.

"no idiot," you shook your head, a little chuckle bursting out of your throat as your eyes locked with his.

"what i mean is," you sighed "that these people, they were people, like you and me. they had dreams and hopes and aspirations. they worked hard for their passions and hoped to achieve so much through their efforts. isn't it awful how many of these people might never have reached their dreams? their lives cut short as they were snatched away from their own loved ones?"

you ruffled your hair before crossing your arms, "i find it unfair. isn't it unfair? how you never know what will happen? how you, me—all of us—will just become another memory to be forgotten? how we'll just become dust, become one with the earth? our names, just some carvings on some stones and even then—everything will just go on as it is. life will go on. we're just lone stars burning out in the massive universe."

megumi could only look at you. you had that effect on him, rendering him speechless through your words alone. a few seconds passed before he finally found his voice again.

"well," he began, tone laced with a certain gentleness that only showed itself in your presence. "i see it more like the beauty of life. we're here and then we're not. we live and we love and we thrive and we falter. it's the way of life, or the rule of life, whatever you call it. i think that's why we have to make sure we make the most of it. life is unpredictable and that's what makes it so thrilling."

"i think you're right—well—in a way at least. i've learnt to cherish my life. i think with you by my side, i can stand strong and proud and i can live. i'm glad you found me and i found you and i'm glad that we're always by each other's side," you smiled up at him, nudging his shoulder.

"always?"

"always."

wasn't that the promise you made?

it was like looking through a glass window, so vividly was that day's image imprinted on his mind. he wanted to break that glass and take a hold of that memory and relive it again and again and again if it meant he could have you by his side. he definitely would do that if he could.

life is not really beautiful he learnt after he started visiting the cemetery more often. it was cruel, it was ruthless, it filled one with agony and suffering and pain. oh, so much pain.

he never looked at random graves anymore like he did before with you. no, he looked at just one. the name etched on the stone with a few leaves scattered at the base—l/n y/n.

it hurt, it truly did. through you, megumi learnt love and loss, he learnt heartbreak and grief and what it felt like to cry in the middle of the night wishing for you to hold him close and whisper i'm here. you never were though, you wouldn't be there anymore, you wouldn't cradle him and card your fingers softly through his hair or wipe his tears or kiss his worries away. you wouldn't and that was reality and he had to live with that reality.

megumi learnt through you how promises were only made to be broken—knowingly or unknowingly.

but you taught him how to love and to be loved, how to find beauty and peace in the mundane, how to dream big and how to care, to be kind.

he loved you but he had to let you go. alas, you wouldn't want him to be stuck, frozen in a place where darkness loomed and nothing but sheer heartache reigned supreme. maybe it was true that a part of him was gone. maybe it was true that he would never feel truly and completely whole again. but he could swear your ghost would curse at him if he didn't at least try to move forward.

so he laid a bouquet of white carnation at the base of your grave, uttering a silent prayer.

"always." he brought his index and middle finger to his lips and then placed it on the top of the headstone before standing up, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets.

"always." he whispered, letting his words get carried by the air before turning around to walk away.

[molllsprple]

Strictly business

Part 1

Well howdy.

This is my first ever written piece of fan fiction so I welcome constructive criticism, but please be kind 🥹 I tried by best.

I am simply a thirsty girl indulging in her mihawk fantasies.

Pairing: Female reader x Mihawk

Description: Sometimes the line between business and pleasure can get a little blurry.

Rating/warnings: Explicit 15+ (Swearing, injury detail, may get smutty in later chapters) Mihawk is a bit of an ass, who doesn’t love a good enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut in later chapters, stubborn mihawk, stubborn reader, no use of y/n.

The life of an assassin can be rough, and somewhat lonely sometimes. Although, you didn’t mind the solitude so much.

You had been roaming the streets from a very young age since becoming an orphan, and you were grateful for the skills and tricks that you had picked up along the way.

You had learnt to be invisible, silent, and deadly if it came down to it. You could handle yourself, and rarely had to rely upon others.

You liked it that way.

Berry was hard to come by as a child, but as you grew older you found ways of making a living, and being the contracted assassin for a certain warlord was one of them.

It was for this reason that you were currently scaling the side of his coffin shaped vessel to retrieve the fruits of your labour.

Silently, you slipped through the opening of one of the windows, feet meeting the ground without a sound. Inaudibly, you moved through the ship in search of its captain.

Peeking around the doorframe of his quarters, you finally caught sight of the warlord in question—back turned, wine glass in hand.

Typical. you thought with an eye roll.

He was seemingly oblivious to your presence, and so you took the opportunity to scowl into the back of his head a little longer.

“You took your time” Mihawk sighed, tone low and uninterested as he remained with his back to you.

You pouted underneath the mask that was covering your face, as you realised that you had been discovered. It pissed you off that you could never sneak up on him.

“I thought something might have happened to you, it’s been two weeks” he continued, taking another sip from his wine glass, voice lacking in concern.

“That asshole gave me the run around for five whole days before I could find him. Maybe you should get your own hands dirty if you want it done any quicker.” You retaliated, emerging from the shadow of the doorway and into the centre of the room.

With that, mihawk slowly turned his body around to face you, his golden eyes meeting your own.

If looks could kill.

The look he gave was soul piercing, and it made your hair stand on end with a mix of adrenaline and something primal pooling in the pit of your stomach. It gave you a strange thrill, antagonising someone so dangerous.

Maybe if he didn’t possess the arrogance that came with being the worlds best swordsman, you might consider him attractive.

The angular structure of his jawline, and the way his beard was so carefully groomed to complement it.

The annoyingly perfect dark curls peaking out from under his hat.

The hard contours of pure muscle that his shirt tried so poorly to disguise.

Shit. So maybe he was nice to look at.

But you weren’t here to ogle the warlord, you were here for his deep pockets.

You agreed to help him with the large bounties assigned by the marines in exchange for a generous cut. These bounties were only for the most skilled and damn right crazy pirate hunters, but they brought along a hefty pay check, more than you could ever imagine of making on your own.

Most of the missions he assigned were just track and retrieve, meaning you only had to get intel to pass back to mihawk, aiding in their capture. Only rarely would you have to engage with the bounty, which you were thankful for as these were some of the most dangerous pirates sailing the seas.

“This one is on Karai Bari island. It looks like he works alone so it should be an easy catch.” You said, as you ignored the daggers he was sending your way, sliding the bounty poster onto the desk in front of him.

Beneath the hard expression his face was sporting, you noticed that his eyes were dull and lacked their usual vigor. There were slight bags beginning to form underneath them—Had he not been sleeping?

Mihawk’s back straightened, as his eagle eyes flicked down to the piece of paper.

Without a word he reached below the desk and flung a bag of berry onto the table with his usual flare of sass.

“Good” was all he uttered in response, shifting his imposing form to face away from you once again, continuing whatever it was he was so occupied with before you interrupted.

You picked up the bag, and started towards the door assuming that was the end of your incredibly enthralling conversation.

“Be safe on your travels”

Mihawk’s words stopped you in your tracks, taken aback by the sudden and unusual expression of concern.

Just as you were about to turn your head, he continued.

“It would be an awful inconvenience for me to have to come after you if you got into any trouble”

There it was. The true intent of his words.

“Prick” you muttered under your breath before disappearing into the night.

Mihawk downed the rest of his wine glass to stop the corners of his mouth from curling up into a grin.

————————————————————————-

Well shit.

This was bad… Really bad.

You were in the process of trailing your current bounty, lacking the knowledge that he had already clocked onto your presence.

As you turned down the next alleyway you were met with the static silhouette of your target facing back at you.

As your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness they widened in horror, realising that he was wielding a pistol initially obscured from sight by the dimness of the back passage.

By then it was too late.

You heard the gun fire before you even had chance to reach for your knife.

Unbelieving, you dropped your head to affirm your worst fears.

He had shot you in the leg.

Your mask did nothing to muffle the shrill scream of agony that was ripped from your lungs, as your hand instinctively moved to shield your wound.

The man simply let out a huff of laughter before bolting off in the opposite direction. He clearly didn’t see you as enough of a threat to waste time finishing you off.

You tore off a piece of material from your shirt to use as a bandage, and patched yourself up as best as you could with shaky hands.

Stumbling, you set off back in the direction of the harbour.

Thankfully, there was no one around this time of night, as everyone was either asleep or down the local bar spending their life savings on getting royally inebriated.

Finally, the bobbing flagships in the harbour came into view, as you just about threw yourself onto the dock.

You were almost there. You could see the ship, you just had to move—why.. weren’t you moving?

By now blood was streaming from the lesion on your leg, and your sight was beginning to blur.

If I just…one foot..in front of..the other.

Finally, you began to move forward again, only it wasn’t your legs that were in motion, it was your body falling like a sandbag onto the wooden planks of the dock.

Then everything faded into darkness.

————-

You slipped in and out of consciousness briefly over the next hour, each time catching snippets of words spoken by a low, honey toned voice, each fragment sounding more desperate than the last.

“Careless girl, look what you’ve gone and done”…

“You’re lucky I was docked on the same island”

“I told you to be careful….why d-“….

“Can you hear me?….. hey, you need to stay awake”…..

“you can’t die on me now, I haven’t—“….

You looked around through the narrow slit of your eyes to try and make out who the voice belonged to.

Your brain was foggy and you felt as if you were drunk, room spinning at a hundred miles an hour.

Dark hair, broad shoulders.

Your eye lashes fluttered as you continued to observe the figure looming over you. Pale skin, soft yellow eyes….mmm…Hot?

Regrettably, you were not aware that you vocalised that last thought.

Far off somewhere in your mind, you formed the vague notion that it was amusing how you were thirsting over this alluring stranger in your dying moments.

That was until the familiar scent of wine and musk surrounded you as your body was consumed by sleep once more.

Part 2

[howyouloveyourdragon]

Idaña Perzys (Only Fair part iv)

only fair masterlist

warnings: non graphic violence pronouns: she/her summary: Y/n is trapped in King's Landing and Rhaenyra worries over her own troublesome mind and memories. Plots of the Crown are made clear. divider: firefly-graphics A/N: some more family dynamic focuses, a tad bit of filler so i can properly set up part 5 but i hope you still enjoy! also any harsh words about alicent here are through her own lens, i tend to use the character's perspective a lot to influence my writing and decided to delve into it a bit i swear i love her ♡ wordcount: 3,192

title translation: Idaña Perzys – Twin Fire

Rhaenyra couldn’t pretend that the journey back to Dragonstone was not troublesome, her boys bickered and her patience wore thin. She spun the rings on her fingers until she hissed as one cut her. She slid a crumpled parchment from the pocket of her skirt—it had turned yellow and the edges tore, her eyes tracing it carefully. A grumble emits from her throat and she sighs. Since returning she had thought often of that carriage ride. How odd it had been to travel without her life, how her children didn’t seem as remorseful as they should have been for the strife between themselves and their uncles. She is grateful to the Gods that Helaena and Alicent are with you, you deserve to spend time with the family you had rarely seen since your youth. She dismisses that thought, she barely saw you as a child due to her own prejudice. Rhaenyra swallows and sighs, standing in her chambers and piecing together what little memories she had of you before you both wed. She had visited for your ten and eighth namesday, she recalls though not well, you had been beaming with radiance and clutching a pendant to your neck emblazoned with a blue sapphire no doubt gifted by your brother Aemond. Jace had scoffed and almost turned around and Lucerys was squeamish and hiding in his own skirts. Your own brothers glared at the supposed intruders but as her mind flickers with images, she notes how tightly young Aemond had gripped your hand and although his eyes narrowed in slits and glared at her boys, he too was hiding but within your own skirts, not Alicent’s. She smiled at that, mildly proud of the maternal cocoon you used to engulf him in. Alicent was on his other side but it was you who’s arm he would cling to. While the Hightower-Targaryen clan glared and huffed at their presence; you grinned, all bright and welcoming. She snorts at the memory of you practically dragging Aemond toward them with you, his heels digging into the ground and his frown now on you. Her own arm snaked around Lucerys’ shoulders and both boys averted their gazes. 

“Sweet sister,” She remembers greeting with a strained smile. “I hope you have had a pleasant celebration so far.” You raised your chin like a true dragon, she had thought, though impish in that broad smile.  “I have.” You had answered, teeth bared for her and hair tumbling down your shoulders. Rhaenyra nodded, her own smile growing.  “I am glad for it.” She returned with a nod of her head. “I have a gift for you.” Your head snapped up to look at her. “Might you have opened it?” You shook your head and flames at your mother whose own brow furrowed. “Ah. That would be because I have not given it to you yet, turn around.” Giggles spurted from your like the shell of a hatched egg and you obeyed, twisting over and your brother straightening his posture warily. She swept back your hair onto your shoulder and tentative hands caressed your warm skin. Tickles dribbled across you, inciting a shudder when a cold track of metal span across your neck. Your breath hitches and your eyes met with Helaena’s sparkling ones but Rhaenyra wasn’t looking at her, she was looking at you. She lingered as you fingers reached up to dance across it in pensive thought and curiosity. Aemond lifted his head to look at it but his expression remained impassive. Aegon from across huffed and rolled his eyes, garnering a short slap to his arm from Alicent. 

“It is made of dragon glass. The finest in dragonstone.” Rhaenyra commented. “I thought perhaps you could keep a piece of me even whilst I am not present." “How thoughtful.” You breathe, flickers of excitement flickering up your spine. She leaned her lips to rest beside ear. You thought she might grace you with more of her words but instead the fellow princess connected her soft lips to your cheek and pulled back. Cold air flowed around you despite the hot temperature.  “I am grateful, sweet girl. Do write.” You swallow and nod.  “We best attend the tourney.” The Green Queen’s crisp words rolled from her tongue, sniping yet tender. Rhaenyra’s brows raised in amusement and mischief and she nodded.  “I suppose you are correct. Let us take leave.” A gentle hand stroked from your hair to your back before she did as her words suggested and stepped through the large stone walls as though they were made but only for her. Her boys followed at her feet and slipped away from you. 

She remembers that day as well as she recalled the rift on which parted you from her for so long though she supposes that it was for the best. Her gaze surveys the window, almost willing you back to her. She wants to soothe your dragon but she knows that it will only bring harm to herself and the keepers. It was one of those days that again she considers what might have been endowed to her if she were born a man as her father had been so desperate for. Perhaps she could have been a knight requesting for your favour. She no longer wishes for it of course, that would mean her sons’ very existence being eradicated. It didn’t do well to dwell on the past, her father had once told her and she knows why now as she watches the clouds conjoin and part as though it were the very image of your bodies consummating for the first time. She can still hear your whimpering pants if she closes her eyes hard enough. At the thought, her heart stutters and ruts against her chest. 

Alicent knew every word her father had said about her was true that morning. That she was a pitiful delusionist. That her head weighed more with ideas than with his intellect. Otto Hightower had been right. Because even when Alicent brushed back her husband’s hair the next morning, she still couldn’t fathom that he had passed. Panic seeped through her veins before it charged back out of her throat a show of yellow and green. She could have blamed the smell of his decomposing body but even the servants wouldn’t believe her. Despite all odds, she had never imagined that her husband would die before her. If her life was created for and meant for the duty of caring for Viserys I Targaryen then how could he bear to leave her in such a horrifying position? Had he truly been that cruel or was the exhaustion of watching over seven kingdoms nipping away at him too painfully these past years? Did he know when he called for her when he said what he did? Did he understand what he was saying to her? Did he pretend she was Aemma in his final hours? The last of few battles he had partaken. That she had come to bat away the demons for him? ‘I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen’. Echoes in the back of her mind as she dresses. ‘But I must admit that no one has stood... more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with... unfailing devotion, love, and honour’. A lump forms in Alicent’s throat and her eyes water again. Who is she if not the wife of the King? A forgotten caretaker perhaps? Was she now expected to…relieve her post? Alicent Hightower can’t stop thinking, not even when the doors open and she hears her father’s bellowing voice. Chastising her, no doubt but she doesn’t even hear him. Not now. “We always knew this time would come,” She didn’t. “You should have told me sooner.” Otto huffs, her father and first sworn protector. 

“He said…” Alicent’s throat closes up, she is going to have to choke the words out. It was as though they were never meant to rest on her tongue but instead burrow in the depth of my fears. “He told me that Aegon would unite the realm against the cold and dark.” “Then we must obey his final wish.” Otto replies plainly and quickly. Her son isn’t meant to be King, she knows and he knows that. She scoffs. “You cannot be serious.” “Would you prefer him to be slain?” Her blood runs cold. “What? No, Rhaenyra wouldn’t do that. He is her flesh and blood, he is–” “Her obstacle. Even Helena, the children, Aemond, Daeron are her threats. Daemon has utilised her all her life, why wouldn’t she obey him his wish. The wish of the crown.” Alicent doesn’t like how perfectly poised her father sounds as he drills the threat beneath her head and into her brain. “Her reign would be worse than Maegor’s with Daemon as her consort and you know this. Nothing can keep him at bay, not even a pleasant wife which we both know is false. She enables him.” He’s sneering at her now and she feels like a lost child. She swallows back her oncoming tears and shakes her head.  “He is not ready to be King.” She argues. She wishes in times like this that her voice could command the same strength as her childhood friend.  “He will grow to. Your husband was never ready, Aegon will listen.” “No, you mean he will be too inebriated to attend council meetings you mean.” Alicent finally snaps. She looks up into her father’s eyes and narrows them with a ferocity that almost summons authority. Instead of cowering he watches down on her. “All I have ever done is protect you.” Otto states calmly, she flinches when his fingers dance across her forehead and flicks her hair behind her ear. “It is a shame you wouldn’t do the same for your own child.” She can’t speak, her mouth dropping ajar and her resolve fluttering down. “Come.” 

Your mother’s familiar hand strokes gentle and trembling fingers through your hair, braiding it away from you. You try to pay it no notice but it is difficult when her words refuse to claw from her throat like they so desperately want to. She’s so torturously quiet, so threateningly observant…And then she speaks, clearing her throat. “I have not heard word from Rhaenyra.” She says clearly and with that shadow in her eyes which hides any semblance of emotion she may have. “Perhaps you could send her a raven.” There’s something calculative that slips from her thick tongue, a hesitation in the twitch of her lips. Her lips close around her teeth tightly, tactfully blocking out any trace of sin. A silence passes but tense and strain seeping from her rigid expression. “Perhaps.” You agree, equally sly but eyes not translating as easily as your teacher. Your mouth dries and your eyes narrow. “However I do believe that my wife is one her way. Dragonback or not.” The firm edges of your voice sharpen until they are perfectly moulded to your mouth. Authority embeds in your saliva. You are not a mere child anymore, you are the wife of a future Queen. The first Queen of Westeros no less. 

Your mother gives nothing away but her touch falters on your necklace, hesitant and waiting as she swallows. She takes in a deep breath then meets your gaze in the mirror. “Then you might think to wear this for her return instead. I am quite sure that you are correct, darling.” She unwraps her own necklace from her collarbone and lets it glide through her fingers, dangling before you. Her brows raise and your sight traces it. “Is this the one from my wife’s debut as heir?” You ask, already knowing the answer as her jaw hardens.  “No.” Alicent snips. “It is not. Your brother gifted it to me in his youth. For my namesday.”  “Aemond?” The air is thick. “Aegon.” A thread of understanding turns into a bridge and you stride across as though it were made of nails.  It is with troublesome fiddling and struggles that your fingers desperately pry at the locks of your chest. It is not because of materialistic desire that you wish to open it but instead because you know Joffrey’s wooden stag is still in there and you need to prey on every hint of loyalty of the houses once sworn to your wife. War is a troublesome affair and not one that you care for, especially not one between your own family. The waft of Aegon’s debauchery and the slick of Helaena’s bathing gel is still thick in your nose but memories mean little when a throne is under attack. So you swallow and pray to every god, old and new, for a swift surrender and your siblings unharmed. Your brother hates duty as much as you hated your last Septa, if you can just visit him before your grandfather’s claws strike too deep, you are sure that all will be well. He may very well let you travel upon Sunfyre with him to Dragonstone and relinquish any title your mother wishes to bestow upon him. You sigh as the lock stays firm. No matter. You will handle this with the wilful determination your mother has bled into you. 

You creep through to crack open the door but just as you suspected, two stoic guards stand before it. Ser Farlowe glances back at you, a familiar twinge of distrust and expectancy in his rough gaze. “Princess.” He greets. “You are not permitted to leave your bedchamber.” You smile charmingly.  “Of course,” You agree. “I was merely requesting one of you to return an emblem of my mother to me.”  “Your highness, I am sure that a maid can—“ “No.” You snap, fierce flame in your eyes. “I will not entrust this to someone I do not trust. It is a special finery, so you understand? I want you to hand it to me without any chipping. Gold, green jewels. Think you can handle it, you always managed in my youth.” You lean and hopefully grow a sweetening glimmer. He’s unsure but nods anyway glancing at the guard beside him but before he can speak, you chuckle.  “I was hoping you might get it for me. My brother, Aemond, always speaks highly of you.” He swallows and nods with a huff before bowing. 

“Of course, your grace.” Farlowe rises and slowly sweep through the winding hall. The guard now left alone fidgets and bites his lip—you almost feel sorry for him…Almost. Instead you slip out your room and kick him in the shin, sprinting once he howls in pain.  Your throat heaves as you attempt an escape in your condition, gasping oxygen as you tumble through the halls with your rounded belly. The deserted castle is unexpected but not unwelcome but soon enough you find your brother’s chambers and swing the doors open quickly before snapping them back shut. “This brings back memories.” He grumbles, hungover and sweeping back his greased hair. Your brows connect and then your face wrinkles up at the sight of his unclothed form.  “Ew, what is wrong with you?” You almost sneer as he chuckles and lazily clasps a bedsheet across his torso. Then he takes his hand to enclose a fist atop a large jug of wine no doubt and begins pouring into a golden cup.  “Oh, sweet sister, so many things. Would you like our mother to deliver her latest parchment of my faults? I hear the servants have been very good at giving her material.” You roll your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek.  “I must speak with you.”  “Many people do, these days.” Aegon sighs and begrudgingly takes his chalice to brink on his mouth and tip back his beloved as he steps backward to drop on his bed, red splashing from his lips.  “I do hope it is not to do with dancing this time.” Aegon snickers. You huff and stick out an index finger. 

“That was before my wedding.” He nods with a wide grin.  “Yes and you’re still shit at it.”  “I do not have time for this.” You murmur.  “Time for me you mean.” He calls as you pace. You frown and turn to him and for the first time you notice his hard gaze.  “What?”  “Because I am not perfect.” His voice is nearly a broken whimper.  “Aeg—” “No!” He snaps, too sharp for your comfort. It sends you to jump back. Your brother has been angry—outraged even—but he rarely yells. It is simply not in his nature. “You befriend the Strong boys. You marry their wretched mother. You braid Helaena’s hair. You even dance with Aemond of all people and yet still you refuse to partake yourself with me. Even you cannot stand me anymore.” He drains the cup and twitches his nose like he always does when the strange liquid fills his nose.  “Aeg, you are my brother.”  “No I am your nuisance, at least admit it to me.” Your facial muscles trip in horror and disgust. “Brother...”  “You hate me.” He sneers. “You all do.” He swings his cup but there is no more spraying liquid to spill. “I’m a fucking fuck up who whores and drinks. Your resident disgrace.” He doesn’t slur but his mere perspiration reeks of wine. “I didn't want to let you leave us, I didn't want to become mother's the cause of mother's ire, I didn’t even want to marry Helaena but I agreed anyway cause I thought, I dunno, it would make us safe. But still even when I do as any of you tell me, I’m locked away until you find deranged use of me. An amusing fool you like for showy parties but even then you are embarrassed. I know it. I feel it.” He hisses and for the first time you can see the desperation in your brother’s eyes. 

“Then you do not know me at all!” You shout back. “You don’t even love me! You are my own flesh and blood, my twin and you don’t even love me!” “Of course I love you!” You scream. A tentative silence drops like the rush of a waterfall. “You were my first friend and if you are not my last then I will never forgive you.” His face contorts, brows tilting up and lips wobbling. It’s not the first time that you have seen your brother cry but it is the first time it has been directed at you. Aegon’s eyes water and his sniffles hitch his breath. “Why?” His quiet voice wavers. “Why?” You sigh and land your hands on his shoulders. “It matters not why. I will never need a reason to care about you. Do you understand? It is not conditional and nor do I expect anything in return for it.” A slow silence lessens his tense posture and he nods softly. Moments pass. “They are going to make me King, aren’t they?” He whispers, driving a fist to his mouth and biting on the knuckles. Again you sigh.  “Yes.” You breathe. “Yes they are.” 

Taglist: (bold means i couldn't tag you, please check your settings! ♡)

@evattude @missclove @arielj @milf-lover-23 @alicentswhore @darkened-writer @lexiegogo @nylevea @watercolorskyy

[watercolorfreckles]

Of Oak and Sparrow

(Part 2 of The Girl Called Sparrow)

Sparrow returned to the fallen oak tree one final time.

To her, it was a skeleton. A creaking spine wrapped in an armor of bark that, in the end, wasn't strong enough to keep the true monsters at bay.

The sleeping hill was a graveyard beneath the weight of the tree that once crowned it.

Its branches reached toward the sky like bony fingers. The wind whispered through its foliage to pluck down the browning decay. Those same leaves crunched beneath the sole of her boot. She imagined her faerie's hair muting into an earthy brown to match it.

Sparrow traced the scars in the exposed wood. Each mark splitting the stump was an open wound. Its roots and its core were a bleeding heart, severed from the rest of its great height and graceful limbs.

In the tree rings, she saw his fingerprint. Her Kind Oak. The fae who'd held her heart in his hands and treated it with gentleness.

Her tears soaked into the wood's cracks and grooves, fingers tightening around the acorn that promised her a chance at a future.

The encroaching winter drained the life of the forest away. When Sparrow left her home, it felt as a hollow corpse.

She walked until her feet ached and her body swayed with exhaustion. She sank down against the cover of a mossy knoll, eyelids begging for rest. But it would be of poor manner not to acknowledge her hosts.

Sparrow picked three long strands of grass and weaved them into a ring, testing it on her own finger before sliding it off and tucking it into the knot of a tree.

She spoke aloud to any fae that might be near. Listening. Waiting. "I apologize for my intrusion. I am merely passing through, and am most grateful for your hospitality as I take a night's rest. I left you a gift in the hole of that tree. I hope you take no offense to my presence."

Shivering even beneath the thick wool of her cloak, she let her eyelids drop closed as the night swallowed her up.

Sparrow awoke to a pale sun and frost on her lashes. Her breath formed clouds in the morning chill. Scrubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hand slipped into her pocket, seeking the familiar comfort of her Oak's acorn.

Her heart lurched. She checked again. It wasn't there.

Straightening, she scrabbled through the crust of frost coating the ground around her, searching with a despair that made her dizzy. "No- Where--"

"Tell me, I am dreadfully curious, what is so valuable about this acorn?" spoke a voice like crushed velvet.

Sparrow jolted, swiveling around. Her breath caught.

Before her was a fae that glistened like a winter star. His eyes held the glint of cold steel. A knife's edge, harrowing and beautiful all at once. The gently falling snow avoided him in its path.

Pinched between his moon-pale fingers, was her acorn.

Sparrow's heart gave another awful tug.

She reached for it before she could stop herself. The acorn disappeared into the fae's fist as his lips lifted into a flash of pearly teeth. A little too sharp and a little too amused. Something about it reminded her of the maw of a hungry cat.

Sparrow swallowed. She dropped to her knees. "Forgive me. You startled me."

"Such a pretty gift," the faerie murmured. He lifted his other hand, the ring she'd offered up wrapped around his index finger. Surely he was mocking her. It looked terribly simple against the porcelain of his skin. "It is refreshing to meet a human who still knows the old ways. Are you going to answer my question or do I need to repeat myself?"

Sparrow's fingers twisted in her lap. Her blood ran cold. "I need that acorn to resurrect one who is dear to me."

The fae hummed, holding up the acorn again and glancing it over. "This is magik born of the fae wilds."

Her stare tracked his hand as if he were carelessly handling glass. "I have no knowledge of its origin. Only that the tree this acorn fell from was tethered to a fae who could not leave its shadow. The tree was cut down. I need to plant that acorn to give him renewed life."

The fae's smile was that of a predator toying with its prey because it found the creature's helplessness against it adorable. He crouched in front of her, nimbly balanced on the balls of his arched feet.

His head tilted. "Give me your name and I'll return your precious acorn to you."

"That, I cannot give you," Sparrow said softly. "My acorn is no use to me if I am too intoxicated by your sway to plant it."

"What difference does it make?" The fae's cadence was the crackling of a candle flame; the sparks that rain down from a shooting star. "Even if you plant the seed, years will pass before it grows tall enough to harbor your fae in its shadow; a great many years longer than if this were an ordinary acorn. Magik born of the faerie realm behaves as the fae wilds do. Time is of little consequence there. A moment is stretched for decades.

"Humans age in an instant. What will your dear one think of you when time creases your face and steals your youth? What will happen when you fall away to dust and your love is trapped alone in the confines of a shadow?"

It took the taste of metal in her mouth to realize she'd bitten down on her lip. Her insides swam.

Her mother's voice was clear in her head:

Do not make dealings with the fae.

Follow the rules of fae etiquette.

Do not owe anything to the fae. They will always collect.

But if he could magik a better way... If she could see her love again...

Sparrow forced the fear from her voice. Fae hated weakness, her mind screamed. "Will you make a deal with me?"

The faerie's wicked smile split further across his perfect face. "I was hoping you'd ask."

Look at meeee, i posted twice in a little over one week

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[tgmsunmontue]

It's all academic darlin' PART 9/10

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8

Part 7 and 8 are Explicit. And nothing else makes sense without the first six parts but you do you!

PART NINE

            Jake goes through the next few minutes in a haze as he finishes the washing up and watches Bradley hug Admiral Kazansky good bye, telling him they’ll see him tomorrow. He’s told it was very nice to meet him and Jake returns the sentiment, meaning it wholeheartedly. Still difficult to think of the COMPACFLT as someone who makes amazing waffles and likes Star Wars, but he imagines he’ll get there. Bradley leans into his space, hooks fingers into the loops on his jeans and grins at him.

            “So. You survived.”

            “Yeah, he’s actually pretty cool.”

            “Well yeah, he’s… he was the steady presence for me. The one I felt like I could always call up and get advice. Proper advice. Not Mav’s just do it attitude, deal with the consequences later approach… It works for him but I’ve always been a little more careful.”

            “Risk averse?”

            “Not really, but definitely always wanted to weigh things up before committing properly.”

            Jake hums, because he’s wondering if he’s reading too much into that statement, that Bradley is saying something about not wanting to risk committing being with him. He doesn’t think so. It goes against everything Bradley has said and done in the last twenty-four hours but he can’t help the little niggle of doubt.

            “So… He gave you permission to tell your friends.”

            “You were listening huh?”

            “Of course I was. Ice knows I always listen in. More difficult to do when he’s only using ASL though. He’d have used pen and paper if he really didn’t want me to know.”

            “I’ll add it to my pile of stuff to learn…

            “You’re going to learn ASL?”

            “Well, I want to be able to understand whatever you guys are saying to each other. I mean, I thought this sign was pretty obvious,” he makes the two-handed gesture he had thought meant blowjob and Bradley snorts, rests his forehead on Jake’s shoulder and his laugh is gentle and quiet and he never wants this feeling of rightness to end.

            “Oh no, that’s totally the sign for what you think it is. Blow job.”

            “What?!”

            “It was a comment I made months ago, when Mav was telling me about you. About how you disobeyed orders and saved his life…”

            Jake can’t believe that Mav just talks about fucking top-secret missions. Obviously he’s assuming Bradley isn’t sharing it with anyone who doesn’t already know, but how the fuck has Admiral Kazansky not murdered Maverick yet?

            “How the fuck does Kazansky say anything at home?”

            “Well, he doesn’t,” Bradley says and Jake groans at the bad joke.

            “Shut up! You know what I mean!”

            Bradley laughs, shakes his head and shifts his hands from the belt loops to hook his hands behind Jake, pulling him close. He shoves his hands into the back pockets of Bradley’s jeans, needs somewhere to put them to stop feeling awkward.

            “Anyway, Mav told me about you saving his life and I jokingly asked him if he’d wanted me to give you a thank you blow job. You know he kept sending me things to do at the cabin, like he was trying to make me stick around until you got there. He likes to think he’s sneaky but he’s like a sheet of glass.”

            “So what, you’re with me because you’re grateful?”

            “Nope. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful, Mav is pretty fucking important to me. But I’m not with you because of that. You’re funny and intelligent and you aren’t intimidated by me or my career. That’s a pretty fucking amazing trifecta right there,” Bradley says, and he’s completely serious now, his eyes intent on Jake’s face like he really wants to press home how much he believes what he’s saying and Jake shifts uncomfortably, not used to being the subject of such an intense gaze.

            “And then… and then, on top of that, my dad, Mav, already likes you. Tomorrow night he was going to try and set me up with you a third time. And Ice? He thinks you’re hilarious. That you’ll, and I quote, fit in with our crazy family without even trying, end quote. I’ve adlibbed a bit. Anyway, those are five things which I find are pretty important. I usually don’t have the Mav and Ice approval so early on… Jesus Jake. Do you have any idea how amazing I think you are?”

            Jake swallows, throat tight and he shakes his head a little, because no, he didn’t think Bradley thought anything like that about him. Not like that.

            “And then there are the sprinkles and cherry, which are you getting on with my friends, maybe a little too well to be honest. And all of this? Wrapped up in something that looks like you do… it’s like hitting the jackpot.”

            “Oh.”

            “Too much?”

            “Maybe a little?” Jake says, unsure as he sucks in a shaky breath.

            “Okay… so what did you want to do today? We’ve got all afternoon and all night…”

            “Whatever will we do to entertain ourselves.”

            “I’ve got some ideas.”

…         …         …

            Bradley doesn’t know exactly where Jake’s insecurities come from, but the lack of him talking about his parents makes him wonder. Jake hasn’t said they were dead, only mentioned his brother and sister when they’d emailed about family. Jake is confident, cocky and a touch arrogant like every naval aviator Bradley has ever met. It hasn’t seemed to bleed into his relationships though, not if he’s never really had one. And maybe that’s the telling part. It’s okay, he can work with that. Finds himself willing to work with it, when Jake is just… leaving himself so open like this.

            They make out against the kitchen bench for a little while, there’s no sense of urgency for him. Not when he’s had more orgasms in the last twenty-four hours than he’s had the entire week prior. Still, there’s a low buzzing thrum of arousal in his body and he’s pretty sure that it will just become his natural state when Jake is nearby. Another thing he’s willing to work with.

            “So, are you going to tell them?” Bradley asks, because he’s insanely curious and part of him wants all of Mav’s usual machinations to be ruined just so he can see the look on his face for once.

            “Who? Oh, the other Daggers coming tomorrow? Yeah. Probably. Think I’d like to introduce you to Javy if that’s okay?”

            “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You met most of my friends last night.”

            “Javy is my best friend.”

            “Okay…?”

            “He’s definitely going to want to meet you…”

            “You want to have him around, cook dinner?”

            “No. I don’t want to spend time cooking for them when I’m still getting to know you.”

            “You’re secretly the sweetest, you know that?”

            Jake looks embarrassed, doesn’t meet his eye and Bradley kisses him again, slow and gentle, tries to reassure with every press of his lips. Then Jake is pulling back, eyes wide and he’d be worried except Jake looks delighted.

            “Oh my god… I can fuck with him. I can fuck with him so bad.”

            “What? Who?”

            “Javy… this is like a triple blind.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “He knows I’ve been emailing this professor. He probably isn’t picturing someone like you, when you think professor.”

            Bradley’s takes that for the compliment he assumes is there somewhere, grins and nods encouragement.

            “So I let him meet you, and he’s not going to expect you at all… then… do you have a photo album or something?”

            “No, Mav’s got most of them. I’ve got a couple of pictures somewhere. What do you want exactly?”

            “Picture of you and Mav…”

            “Oh… what, you going to bring him back and introduce me and then just hope he stumble across a photo album picture of me and Mav?”

            “Well, when you put it like that…”

            “Nah, I think I can think of something. Put some on the fridge maybe? I’ve got a graduation photo as well somewhere. I hide it because Kezia gives me shit about how young I look.”

            “Yeah… do you mind?”

            Bradley grins and shakes his head, is pretty sure Jake is now feeling the same glee he had when he realized he could maybe get Mav.

            “I’ve got to ring him, stupid asshole, trying to hide the fact that he’s in North Island…”

            Bradley pulls away slightly, clearly isn’t allowed to go to far as Jake refuses to remove a hand from his back pocket, tugs him close as he presses call on his phone and waits for his friend to answer.

            “Hey man, how’s it going?”

            “Hey. I’m good. And I have a bone to pick with you. You’re in North Island.”

            “How the fuck did you find that out? It was meant to be a surprise!”

            “A little bird told me…” Jake looks at Bradley then and he laughs silently, little bird indeed. Standing so close he can hear everything, especially with how Jake is angling the phone.

            “Who?”

            “Not important. Anyway, I wanted to talk about something. You know that guy I was emailing?”

            “Who? The professor guy?”

            “Yeah. Him.”

            “Ooohhh… you hot for teacher?”

            “Yeah. I am actually.”

            “Holy shit! Really? He’s not like old as fuck and walking around with a zimmer frame?”

            “No, no zimmer frame in sight.”

            Bradley laughs silently again, is a little horrified that maybe Jake at any stage thought that maybe Bradley was that old, but listens as Jake arranges to meet Javy for an early dinner in a few hours at one of the burger bars downtown. He hangs up and then kisses Bradley firmly.

            “Man this is going to be fun. I see why the Admiral is so excited about tricking Mav now… and why Mav must enjoy doing it to people.”

            “Do not encourage him. He doesn’t need encouragement okay?”

            “Yeah yeah… okay. Fuck. I’m sorry. I should have checked. Are you okay with me going out to dinner?”

            “Of course… I’m not your keeper or anything.”

            “But we’ve only just… met. I don’t want you to think that he’s more important –”

            “Jake. He’s your best friend. Has been your best friend for years. Someone who you also haven’t seen in over seven months I’m betting. He’s more important. I don’t mind at all.”

            He really doesn’t, the fact that Jake had immediately wanted to arrange to see his best friend, even if he’s using the excuse to fuck with him, tells him more than Jake probably realizes. That’s he’s loyal, and places importance on his relationships in equal measure. It’s a good sign. He can’t handle being the only person in anyone’s life, learnt that one early on.

            “Well, I know you have work to do. Don’t pretend you don’t… you were complaining about it in your last email.”

            “Yeah, but you’re here…”

            “I am here right now. And I’ll be back later. Consider it an incentive to get as much work done while I’m gone as you can…”

            “Yeah okay, I’ve always been pretty focused with the right motivation…”

            “Good to hear. You know what I want to do right now?” Jake asks, and both his hands are back on Bradley’s ass, gripping him through his pockets.

            “What?” Bradley asks, letting himself grind up against Jake with clear interest.

            “I want to fuck you.”

            “You going to ask nicely?”

            “Bradley, please, let me fuck you. I want to get my mouth on you, my fingers inside, stretch you open for my cock, then I want to fuck you and leave those marks all over your chest you asked for and want to see if you’ll beg me to touch your cock, or if you can come without that…”

            “Yeah… that’s pretty nice…”

…         …         …

            Jake leans down, latches his mouth on the sensitive nipples he’d discovered last night and sucks. Bradley’s cock jerks between them, a spurt of precum dripping from the head.

            “How are you so hot?”

            “Good genes…” Jake snorts, licks his way across Bradley’s chest.

            “You sure about these marks? You know I’m not a horny teenager unable to control myself…”

            “Channel your inner teenager, go to town okay? I want to look absolutely wrecked.”

            “This better not fucking backfire…” Jake mutters, because while he’s not generally a guy that gets off on leaving marks, it isn’t exactly a hardship to suck at Bradley’s body when he responds so beautifully, because him enjoying it is something that will get him off.

            “Trust me…”

            Jake can’t believe it, but he does, he really does. He thrusts forward, not quite getting the leverage he’d usually have considering he’s trying to mark Bradley up as much as humanely possible with his mouth.

            “You can leave more later, please, just fuck me… come on.”

            “Okay.”

            He lets himself focus on drawing back before snapping his hips forward, watching Bradley’s face carefully to gauge whether that’s okay. The way his eyes fall shut the same time his mouth gasps open he’s going to take it as a winner and he does it again again again, feeling his own orgasm coiling up in his gut. He can see a half-dozen bite marks starting to darken across Bradley’s chest and collar bone, feels an unexpected thrill. Inner teenager indeed.

            Bradley isn’t making any move to touch himself and he wonders if he needs or wants Jake’s hand on him, whether he’s holding back for some reason Jake’s not aware of. Bradley’s hands are all over Jake’s body instead, running over his chest, down his arms, digging into his shoulders and he’s getting close, wants to touch Bradley now but also wants to know what exactly might tip him over the edge. He has a hunch. He adjusts slightly, mostly maintaining his pace and then he scrapes a blunt nail across Bradley’s left nipple and bloody fucking hell. He almost jackknives up and headbutts Jake in the face, though the loud whine he makes has Jake doing in again; ready this time for the entire-body jerk and he presses down with more force, captures Bradley’s mouth in a hard kiss.

            Then he shifts again, sucks the same nipple into his mouth and yeah, Bradley’s coming, his voice making broken sounds that have Jake’s name mixed in and he licks one more time, savors the full body spasm that Bradley gives and then he fucks into him a few more times, watching Bradley as he lies almost catatonic beneath him, and Jake has never felt so fucking smug before in his life. Yeah. This is fucking amazing.

            Later, post showers, music playing in the background, they sit on the sofa, Bradley reading through essays he’s marking, constantly muttering under his breath and Jake can’t help but smile to himself every time Bradley grumbles and taps away, clearly making comments. Jake’s replied to some emails and is now reading the manual for one of the aircraft he’s going to be asked to inspect as part of his interview for the test pilot position, and he feels quietly comfortable. He makes a few notes, wonders if he could ask Mav some questions and guesses he can likely ask Mav many things now.

            He gets up and uses the bathroom, comes back through to the kitchen for a glass of water and sees there is already a new photo on the fridge and it’s Bradley as a toddler, with an incredibly young-looking Mav grinning at him. There’s a couple and he recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the Navy database photo. The woman must be Bradley’s mom. She has the same easy smile and a little part of him aches for the fact that he’ll never meet them but Bradley will never meet his own parents either so it doesn’t make him feel bad enough to dwell on it.

            He’s a bit peckish so he raids the fridge and cupboards, prepares a plate of cheese and crackers along with some apple slices and grapes; things that can be eaten one handed. He brings it back to the sofa, kicks at Bradley’s feet and passes him a glass of water, leaning down to give him a kiss before going back to his reading.

            “Thanks…”

            “I’ve got a vested interest in making sure your energy levels stay up.”

            “Yeah you do…”

            They grin at each other but lapse back into doing their own thing.

…         …         …

            He has no idea how he lost time so quickly, or how he quite got through so much marking. Definite motivation he guesses, glancing at Jake. At least that’s what he’s going to put it down to. Jake bringing him snacks has let him keep his momentum, rather than get distracted and it’s kind of nice to have someone else just showing that extra consideration. He hadn’t expected it and it makes him feel a little unprepared for just how easily Jake had just simply thought of him and what he might need.

            “Hey, I’m going to go, I’ll see you in a bit okay? I’ll bring you back dessert…”

            “Mmm… look forward to it.” Bradley says, deliberately misconstruing his meaning and running his eyes down Jake’s body meaningfully. Gets a playful shove in response and he laughs.

            “I meant ice cream, but sure, you can have me too…”

            “Wait, you want to take my car? And take the spare key.”

            “Uh… what?”

            “Take my spare keys. They’re on a hook behind the door. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. Then you don’t have to book a Lyft or be buzzed in, or knock on the door. That okay?”

            “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

            “Good.”

            “That made my brain go offline…”

            “More than the idea of me wanting to eat you for dessert? Clearly not doing a proper job of it.”

            “Fuck Bradley…”

            “Yeah, we’re pretty good at that…”

            “Oh my god, stop already. I’ve got to get going,” Jake mutters, but he still looks pleased, and definitely less spooked than he did mere moments before. “I’ll stop in at the grocery store on my way back. I’m bringing Javy back to meet you remember? So don’t strip yourself naked and wait for me on the bed. Do more work and I’ll see you later. Don’t forget to eat something more than cheese and crackers. You need anything for these brownies we’re apparently taking tomorrow?”

            “Oh. Dark chocolate. I like the idea of being naked and waiting for you in bed… we’ll have to explore that later.”

            Jake grins, gives him another kiss, firmer this time and Bradley presses into it.

            “I’ll pick up the chocolate.”

            “Thanks. Enjoy dinner with Javy…”

            “Will do.”

…         …         …

            He walks into the bar and spots Javy easily. He hadn’t expected for them to be joined by Trace and Floyd but there they are, all chatting with each other and dressed in civvies, and he slides into the spare seat at the table, greets them all.

            “You don’t seem surprised. Did the little bird tell you that they were here too?”

            “Yep. Dinner tomorrow night.”

            “Huh. I want to know who this birdy is… Mav?”

            “He’s really shit at keeping secrets sometimes,” Jake provides, thinking about Mav’s whole secret relationship with the Admiral, but then not stopping to think about sharing mission critical information with Bradley. Or Jake’s own medical history. The fact that he hadn’t exactly told Jake that they were in town, and Bradley had just let him overhear is something he won’t ever be admitting to.

            “How are you two?” Jake asks, because unlike Javy who he’s emailed a couple of times a week since they went on their first deployments in different directions, he doesn’t keep in regular contact with either of them, just the standard group chat that the Dagger Squad have which goes through peaks and troughs of communication. They talk about superficial things for a while, take in the ambience of the burger joint and place their order with the waitstaff.

            “Any particular reason we’re eating so early?”

            “I had a late breakfast so needed an early dinner.”

            “A late breakfast huh? Were you busy in bed?” Javy asks, grinning and leaning back, knowing he’s just let the cat out amongst the pigeons and Jake doesn’t care, because he’s going to get them all and he’s going to enjoy every fucking minute. Phoenix and Bob both look between him and Javy, expressions only mildly interested.

            “Yep. Sure was. Had someone special cook for me as well…”

            “Jake’s been emailing this professor guy, getting all hot and bothered via email!”

            “God, shut up…”

            “I’m not saying anything untrue!”

            “Well, we’re not emailing anymore, I met him yesterday. Properly,” he adds, thinking back to over ten months ago when he’d first met Bradley at the cabin.

            “Yeah? What’s he like?”

            “He’s great. He’s smart, and funny and understands being in the Navy pretty well for a civilian. We went rock climbing with his friends last night… I was going to ask if you wanted to meet him,” Jake says, looking at Javy, because he’ll know how significant that is. He’s never introduced anyone to Javy before.

            “Oh holy shit. You’re serious?”

            “Yeah. It’s pretty serious.”

            “Wow…” Javy says and Jake’s pretty sure he’s at a loss for what to say.

            “You got a picture or anything?”

            “Uh, no…” He doesn’t want to say they’ve been a bit busy to take selfies, although he will definitely want some photos next time he’s away from Bradley. Fuck. Bradley’s going to need a better phone with a decent camera and Jake can’t trust him with that. They’re going to have to figure out something though.

            “Look at that blush!”

            “Too busy with other things huh?”

            “Shut up. You want to meet him or not?”

            “Hell yes! I’m picking if he’s into rock climbing he’s not in his eighties.”

            “He’s a couple years older than me, and he can definitely keep up with me…” Jake says, and he realizes then that Bradley likely grew up training with Mav and being expected to go on runs with him and likes to exercise, rather than needing to do it as a requirement for his job like Jake needs to do.

            “And I’m sure you’ve tested that out…”

            “Yes, several times in fact,” Jake grins back, feeling pretty smug.

            “That invitation to meet him open to all of us?” Phoenix asks and Jake shrugs, like he doesn’t care either way, knows if he plays it too keen they’ll get suspicious.

            “Yeah, sure. Come and meet him. He already said he wants to meet Javy.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah, he’s heard a lot about you…”

            Javy’s eyebrow goes up at that, and Jake grins, because he’s referring to Bradley’s comment about Mav talking about all the Dagger Squad. Bradley’s likely to have an idea of each of them through whatever Maverick thinks of them, which is a little humbling because from what Bradley has implied Mav seems to think Jake is somehow someone worthy of his respect. And time. Someone he thinks is good enough for Bradley to be with, and he finds that to be a pretty huge commendation on what Mav thinks of him.

            Their food arrives and he flicks a quick message to Bradley, no idea if he will even check it before Jake gets back to the apartment. Their conversation turns to work, talking about different aspects of training they’re each carrying out in different parts and he mentions he’s applied for the test pilot position at Fallon on Mav’s recommendation. Phoenix is taking an instructor role at Top Gun for the next two years, while Javy and Bob are slated to do training of new pilots at Pensacola for eighteen months. Jake doesn’t have any current orders, having only returned from a seven-month deployment at sea, but he’s hoping he’s at least going to be land-bound for the next little while even if he doesn’t get the test pilot position.

            “Okay, I need to go to the grocery store on the way back. I’m just getting some ice cream and chocolate. I’ll meet you guys outside the apartment building,” Jake says, giving them the address and watching them all plug it into the map app on their phones.

            “Can you get Moose Tracks?”

            “Who said the ice cream was for you?”

            “You mean you’re getting ice cream and chocolate and not going to share it with us?”

            “The chocolate is for the brownies we’re making for dinner tomorrow, not for eating.”

            “Just buy more chocolate.”

            “Wait. Is he coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

            Jake freezes, and shakes his head, thinks frantically.

            “Uh no, of course not. I’m just bringing some brownies for tomorrow. Bradley’s a really good cook…”

            “I was going to say, inviting the guy to Mav’s for dinner seems a little rude.”

            Jake laughs, wonders if they can here how crazy he’s feeling. This subterfuge shit is harder than he thought. God he needs to get back to the apartment.

            “I’ll see you guys there! Bye!”

…         …         …

            They’re waiting for him outside and he’s glad he didn’t tell them the apartment number. Wouldn’t have put it past them to buzz Bradley and ambush him before Jake got back. Javy is looking at the keys in his hand with a raised eyebrow and Jake simply makes a what would you have me do face. He’s aware he’s falling hard and fast, but he also feels like Bradley’s a giant safety net ready to catch him. He opens the apartment door, trying to be a little noisy to give Bradley some warning, because his five phone messages have all gone unanswered and he wonders if it’s finally death-knell time for his current phone. For all he knows ten months might be a personal record.

            “Hi…” Bradley says, appearing in the doorway to the hall and he’s clearly had a shower and changed, no longer wearing the tank and sweats he’d lounged around in most of the day. Instead he’s in jeans and a dark blue Henley, looking all sorts of delectable and Jake gives him an approving smirk and gets an eyeroll back in return, it’s accompanied with a grin though and yeah, he’s falling and falling, doesn’t want to stop.

            “Hey. Uh. These two were there as well.”

            “Okay,” Bradley says, walking over and holding out a hand to shake, starting with Javy and he bites back a comment about making Mav proud with his manners.

            “Bradley, this is Javy Machado, Natasha Trace and Bob Floyd. Javy, Natasha and Bob, this is Bradley Bradshaw.”

            “Hey man, nice to meet you,” Javy says, shaking Bradley’s hand, and he’s definitely scrutinizing Bradley for asshole vibes and Jake can’t help but feel a deep swell of appreciation for his best friend. Yeah. He’s got his back. Bradley is shaking Natasha and Bob’s hands and then reaching for the grocery bag.

            “Let me take that and put it in the freezer… Wow. Did we really need four different flavors of ice cream?”

            “Well, I don’t know your favorite, so I got vanilla and chocolate, and then she wanted the Moose Tracks,” Jake says, pointing at Phoenix who looks suitably annoyed at being thrown under the proverbial bus. “And when I’m already getting three tubs of ice cream I figured I might as well round it out with strawberry. And I got fudge sauce…”

            “Fair argument. I prefer vanilla with fudge sauce, so top marks…” Bradley says, throwing him a wink and Jake flushes, because he knows Javy is going to take that as some sex role-play thing when it’s not, just a reference to their conversation yesterday. Fuck. Was it only yesterday?

            “Make yourselves at home, does anyone want tea or coffee? Bowls of ice cream? Or are we all wanting to forgo bowls and just eat directly from the tubs and enter sugar highs side-by-side?”

            He walks towards the kitchen and Phoenix and Bob follow him and he lets Javy tug him to the side a little.

            “He is not what I imagined.”

            “Nope. Pretty fucking hot right?”

            “I mean… I guess? I’m more impressed with the way he looks at you like he’d give you the world if you asked for it. I was worried that you were gone on this guy, but he seems pretty gone on you too, so… that’s good. You deserve a guy that wants to do everything for you.”

            Jake nods sharply, because he gets that. In theory. It’s nice to hear, even if hearing and feeling it so much in the last day has felt overwhelming, even if it has been positive. He glances up and Javy is looking at him like he understands, gives Jake a quick hug before heading to the kitchen to join the other two in getting ice cream. He glances around the living room and sees two new photo frames, Bradley’s graduation photo with Maverick set at about eye-level, and another frame set at about knee height, where the Admiral is in uniform with Bradley standing beside him, so there’s definitely no mistaking him and he grins.

            “Are you sure we haven’t met, you just look really familiar,” Phoenix is saying, like she’s trying to place him and Jake hides his grin. Wonders if Bradley knows Mav has a photo of him on his desk. An old photo, but still a photo.

            “Maybe I just have one of those faces?” Bradley suggests, catching Jake’s eye.

            They’ve clearly decided to start in on the ice cream, digging in and serving themselves up and using bowls; the kitchen isn’t big enough for five people, so he reaches to give Bradley a kiss across the counter and Bradley obliges by meeting him halfway. It feels so easy and the rollercoaster ride does a loop-de-loop again.

            “Jesus Bagman, did you become a vampire while you were deployed?”

            Jake looks to see what she’s talking about and Bradley’s Henley has pulled slightly, caught between the counter and his body as he stretched across to kiss him; revealing the highest of the marks Jake left and another a little lower. Bradley pulls back, tugging the Henley back into place and shrugs, clearly not embarrassed at all so Jake decides to follow his lead and just smirks at her eyeroll. Bob has headed out to inspect the bookshelves and Jake can feel the anticipation growing.

            “So, what do you do Bradley?”

            “I’m an engineer. A problem solver.”

            “Well, good thing you’re with the biggest problem we have then.”

            “Hey!” Jake objects, but they’re all laughing at him and he rolls his eyes, flicks them the middle finger, but Bradley is wrapping his arms around Jake’s waist and kissing his shoulder.

            “If you’re a problem then it’s the kind of problem I like to have…”

            The look Javy gives him is flat, like he thinks Jake is maybe an idiot for thinking that Bradley is somehow not into him. Or maybe Javy is the idiot, because there is no way that Jake is letting this go.

            “Hey Phoenix, do you mind putting the ice-cream back in the chiller?”

            She lets out a put-upon sigh but does it with a mouthful of ice cream, spoon hanging out of her mouth and Jake waits, watches as she opens and then closes the door, her eyes catching the photo. She’s generally more observant than Javy so he’s hoping she’ll get the ball rolling, or Bob will see the photos on the bookshelves first.

            “Is this… Who are these people in this photo?”

            “My parents and godfather…” Bradley says. “And me as a kid obviously. My dad died not long after that photo was taken actually.”

            “Oh… I’m sorry,” Phoenix says, looking uncomfortable and Jake wonders if that’s going to derail everything, but Javy is now looking as well, then glancing at Bradley.

            “Thanks. It’s fine. Was a long time ago now obviously. My godfather really stepped up and helped my mom raise me. She passed over twenty years ago though, so that’s one of my few family photos.” Jake hadn’t really put all that together and he wonders where Bradey usually keeps it.

            “I’m sorry, I just have to ask, what’s your godfathers name?”

            “Pete.”

            “Peter Mitchell. Maverick,” Javy states, looks to Bradley for confirmation and he gives a nod. Jake grins, pretty impressed Javy put I together the fastest. “Plus you have a moustache that belongs in a porno from the 80s…” Javy adds and Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up, he looks to Jake and Jake coughs, his ice cream catching in his throat with an aborted laugh. He’d forgotten he’d said that.

            “Holy shit, you’re Mav’s son. He has your photo on his desk,” Phoenix says. “That’s why you looked familiar!”

            “Guilty as charged. Don’t hold it against me. Jake wanted to have a little fun…”

            “Hey! Don’t blame this on me!”

            “It was you going on about a triple blind…”

            “What are you guys talking about?” Bob asks, coming back to stand in the kitchen and he’s looking between them all and he wonders if he heard the conversation.

            “Bradley here is Mav’s son.”

            “Oh. Huh. That explains the photo of him on the bookcase. I was going to ask how you knew him.”

            “You must know Mav’s partner. Oh my god! You almost slipped up and told us he was coming to dinner tomorrow, because of course he’s coming to dinner tomorrow. At least you don’t have to worry about introducing the boyfriend to Mav!” Phoenix says, laughing and Jake shrugs, because she has a point. Not that he’d ever really thought about seeking Mav’s approval for that part of his life.

            “Wait, so you’ve already met Mav’s partner? It’s a guy right? That’s the big secret right? What with DADT and everything…”

            “That was definitely part of it… but uh…” He stops, feels unsure suddenly, because even though Admiral Kazansky gave him explicit permission, and Jake clarified, that he’s expecting Jake to tell them, so Mav can’t ambush them with the same information tomorrow he realizes the amount of trust he’s been given.

            “His partner’s also in the Navy. I met him this morning.”

            “Is it Cyclone?”

            “Idiot! He’s met Cyclone. Will we know them?”

            “Yes. And its going to fuck you all up so much…”

            “You’re enjoying this way too much,” Javy mutters.

            “He told me to call him Tom and made me waffles this morning, and I’m still processing it okay? I just want to make you all freak out like I did…”

            “Can’t you just tell us?” Phoenix asks, looks at Bradley and he shakes his head. Jake blinks. He just said his first name. What the fuck?

            “Nope. Jake made me put clues out and everything. Pretty sure you can figure it out. And you’re right, it’s not Beau.”

            “Did you just call Admiral Simpson by his first name?”

            Jake snorts, lets out a little laugh and catches Bradley’s eye, clearly amused.

            “I call most of them by their first names. Some of them I’ll call uncle… And I’m just a civilian remember.”

            “Holy shit,” Bob says, voice quiet and Jake looks to see what he’s looking at.

            Sure enough he’s finally noticed the picture of Bradley and Admiral Kazansky, sitting the perfect height to be noticed if you’re sitting down, but not if you’re standing.

            “Admiral Tom Kasansky.”

            “Bullshit,” Javy says, emphatic and Jake just smirks, knows he’s got a couple more bullshits to get through before he starts to accept it.

            “Are you… you’re… holy shit. You’re serious.,” Bob says, looking between Jake and Bradley and then back to the photo.

            “Yep,” Jake says, popping another spoon of ice cream in his mouth.

            “Is he telling the truth? I mean, anyone can doctor photos now…” Phoenix says, and again she’s skipping over him to talk directly with Bradley.

            “All true. I mean, I call him Ice because I grew up calling him that.”

            Javy makes a high pitched sound that Jake will take as something equal to a second bullshit.

            “Anyway, he wanted to meet Jake without the whole formal dinner thing. So he came around and made waffles.”

            “Bullshit. No fucking way did the COMPACFLT make fucking waffles!”

            “He did, and he is telling the truth,” Bradley says, starting to look a little worried that Javy seems to be freaking out. Jake moves an arm to wrap around his waist, gives him a quick wink to try and convey that everything is okay and it seems to relax him.

            “Wait… you seriously met Admiral Kazansky this morning?”

            “Tom,” Jake provides, ignoring the immediate sense of wrongness at the name, but he’s going for shock value.

            “Bullshit…” Javy says again, but it’s quieter now, and Jake can tell he's processed the worst of it.

            “Nope. He told me to call him Tom.”

            “I need a fucking drink.”

            “I can help with that,” Bradley says.

PART TEN

[lil-melody-moon]

You think that was all I had for you today? Nope. Here it comes the second fragment😌

I know these fragments don’t have anything explicit in them this time, but I’m leaving certain things open to your imagination. The only thing I’m going to say is that this specific chapter, which is the second one, is going to be a little spicy between you and Ernie👀

————————————————————————————

You had no idea how you ended up at the pub that evening. It felt odd being out without Frank, especially since you weren’t used to doing much without him by your side. But you didn’t want to disappoint your new friend, Laura, who had insisted that you needed to get out more, to step away from your house now and then. She was kind, and though you’d only known her a short while, you felt a strange connection with her, as if you’d known her in another life. Ever since Frank had been away, things felt different, like nothing was quite as it seemed.

Laura’s company made it easier to relax, her chatter comforting as you sipped your drink and tried to settle into the unfamiliar environment. The pub was buzzing with laughter and conversation, but you still felt slightly out of place. Laura was keeping you grounded, though, helping you ease into the night. You were grateful for her presence.

Suddenly, a man approached your table and wrapped his arm around Laura’s shoulders. Your eyes widened, alarmed at first, thinking some random stranger was trying to take advantage of her. But before you could react, she turned her head and kissed him on the lips. The casual affection between them made it clear they were far from strangers.

As the man began to chat with Laura, you noticed the way she softened in his presence. Her posture relaxed, her cheeks flushed with a soft pink, and her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. There was an undeniable connection between them, a warmth that seemed to glow between their exchanged words. You couldn’t help but wonder if people ever saw that same spark between you and Frank. Did you look at each other like that? Did people perceive you two as a couple in love, the way Laura and her boyfriend seemed to be?

Laura turned back to you with a smile. “I’m sorry, Caroline, this is my boyfriend, Pete. But you already know him, right?”

You looked at Pete, who was extending his hand towards you. His face looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t quite place him. Maybe he was one of Frank’s friends? It seemed the safest assumption, so you reached out and gave his hand a firm shake.

“You’re Frank’s girlfriend, right?” he asked.

You didn’t want to appear foolish, so you nodded, keeping things simple. “Yes, I am.”

Pete smiled politely before turning back to Laura. She looked at him curiously. “Who are you here with tonight?”

“A couple of mates,” Pete replied, nodding towards the other side of the pub. You followed his gesture with your eyes, your breath catching in your throat when you saw him, Ernie.

He was standing by the bar, wearing his usual long coat, his hand tucked into one of his pockets. There was something unsettling about the way he stood, fidgeting with something in his coat. You squinted, trying to make sense of what he was doing, and then your stomach dropped when you realised what he was playing with.

I would be sad it I got one fragment after you've send me two fragments in the last week 😂

You do want to torture me as best as you can, don't you? If so, you're fucking succeeding 🫠 Spicy you say? Oooohhh, I can't wait!

Ah, there you are! We're new friends in this one, I see that you want to make me go out more, that's good and healthy for me, thank you 💜

The difference between your relationship with Pete and mine with Frank is so big here. You didn't word it straight out in the narration, but I somehow could feel my heart sinking when I saw your happiness. Not jealousy, but a certain pain inside my heart and then wondering if I ever had the same as you have. Also, I'm so happy for you and Pete in this one!

Pete is so nice 🥹 The fact that he's friends with Ernie as well is something I didn't expect. I love how you're building this universe!

I hate the moment you ended the fragment at, to not tell me what it is in his hand that he's playing with! How dare you 😤 Either way, I'm very curious about the item and if I had to take a guess, I think it would be something from my house - somehow my mind goes to a piece of my undergarment or (if I wear any jewellery here) a necklace or bracelet he stole.

I am very curious about this 👀

[sungtaro]

to my beloved mutuals who contributed to the big birthday project spearheaded by millie i truly can't tell you how special and loved you all made me feel 🥹 it really means so much that all of you would take the time to share such thoughtful and lovely things. now that i have had all day to process and time to sit down to thank all of you ... let's gaaaur 😎

roro! @sunghanbin thank you always for your kind words and for seeing in me what i can only believe is the warmth reflected back from what you put out into the world 💖 i'm glad you've stood by me from my filtering nct era to my full on nctzenization without even batting a lash, even if my bias reveal was unexpected 🤭 #thanks_jaehyun

vianey! @souladies thank you so much for taking the time to wish me well and contribute to this. you are such an integral presence in my tumblr experience, i am always so happy to see your creations in my tag after a long stretch of not being here, and in so many ways it's you who always makes me feel welcome back 🥹

aweks! @awek-s my sweet bean, i hope you know i'm always cheering for you! i wish for a world where everyone can feel seen, heard, and supported by their healthcare team - i know it's far from the reality, but i'll always work hard to be at least be that nurse myself. you are so important to the world and to me, pls don't forget it 💖

rosie! @kimjiwoong I MISS U first of all and thank you so much for adding your love to the mix 💖 i cannot remember the day we first talked but that's probably because it's just felt like you've always been here, and i'm always excited to see you 🥹

lili! @ninqz my little crabby ... thank you for taking the time to contribute to this (and make me a gifset!) when i know it's been a hard and busy semester. thank you for always entertaining my random fun facts and for thinking they're fun in the first place ahbgjha and i hope we'll get to catch up more soon 💖

brina! @aquablues my babieeee and of course my little sibling 4ever (4brina). i'm so proud of you and learn a lot from the way you live so true to yourself. honored to be a virtual big sister and excited to see where life keeps taking u !! my love will be in that cargo pants pocket every step 😎

lulu! @fushigojos as you know i am always so fond of u ! even if we aren't living txt comeback to txt comeback together anymore . i'm glad we both feel the same 'forever-friend' kind of love. i'll always be in your corner !! 💖

sofi! @yeofi thank you for always caring about me and sticking around since the beginning of it all! no matter how busy we may get or how hard both of us are working (sometimes too hard) we always have each other's back 💖

miha! @jaebeomtual i got emotional for real 😭 thank you for being so generous with your love, i'm someone who i think struggles with putting affection into words and you make it look so easy while still feeling so genuine and managing to make me laugh at the same time as i am like my heart is going to burst rn . i'm so grateful to call you loml and hope you know how much positivity and peace and laughter i get from you.

aléks! @possession1981 one day we will hang out irl and it will be the easiest and best time ever. i'm always here for you and so glad that you trust me and that i can be like a big sister to you when you need it 💖 i always admire you and am so grateful for our friendship!

rachel! @gnanii my ate 💖 though we are definitely different, i think that's what makes us strong. i think i've said it before but i always have had a hard time letting people take care of me, and yet you manage to make me feel so taken care of in a way that's easy. thank you for being willing to travel for me, for sharing the pain of teumeism with me, for every jae selfie you make sure i see bc we all know i don't get weverse notifications, for sharing the highs and lows of real life as well as kpop, and for being the amazing friend and person you are. can't wait until we see each other again 🤗

mary! @dongkwan so weird to tag you in a tumblr post when we spend all the time just texting each other lol but i have to give you a shoutout for somehow managing not to tell me that this was being plotted. i'm so glad that i decided to get into kpop, immediately told you about it, and for how much it's continued to bring us together ever since. looking forward to embarrassing myself at omega x with you soon 💖

meg! @hozierbyrne what can i say really ... thank you for everything you did to help make this happen. you are a wizard of making me feel special and listened to all the time but it never ceases to lift me up regardless. i read all the things you think about me as a friend and i'm like no way, that's you! but i think it goes to show that we really are aligned in what we look for in a friendship, which is probably also why it's felt like we've been friends for decades instead of whenever things escalated on tumblr to the point of me being like sure i will get on a plane and share a bed with this person i've never met , . and i'm glad we keep getting on planes and i'm so excited for when you'll get on one to see me here. i promise to have the best, most cancelable powerpoint yet ready to present to you 💖 love u

millie! @berryjaellie clears throat what the heck this was so unbelievably lovely of you i can't believe you even considered for half a second that i wouldn't like it. i loved it !!! thank you for taking so much time to consider all of these Things About Me and talking to people about them and then putting it all together in this incredibly thoughtful, detailed, super cute package that i cannot stop staring at and have shared with my parents + irl friends because of how much it meant to me. and of course for everything you yourself had to share and say. ever since the first time you said something along the lines of 'not just a friend like you, but you as a friend' i really have started thinking more in that way and using that because it really makes a difference and i want you to know that i'm just as glad to have not a friend like you, but you as a friend. i laughed, i cried, i felt so treasured as i looked through this (multiple times) and that's all you and your thoughtfulness. thank you for being the first to wish me a happy birthday in the most powerful, loving way. it, and you, mean so much to me 💖

[flower1622]

Percy was walking through the forest, but he feels a presence, so he stops and takes his riptide from his pocket. He turned the pen into his sword and prepared himself for an attack. He looked around and saw no one else. Suddenly someone jumps on his back and he flips judo the person. It was Clarisse and she was laughing pretty hard.

- What, Jackson? Couldn't stand a surprise? - Clarisse asks. She stands up.

- What a nice surprise! Why couldn't you just talk to me instead of trying to scare me? - Percy asks

- Because I like your face when you get on defensive mode! - Clarisse says and Percy only rolls his eyes.

- Well, whatever you say, Clari! - Percy says and laughs. Clarisse punches him on the shoulder.

- I thought I told you not to call me that! - Clarisse says laughing

- Well, you started it! - Percy says and laughs too.

- Fair enough, I guess... - Clarisse says.

- So, what are you doing here? - Percy asks

- I came to say goodbye. I got really mad when you left without telling anyone... - Clarisse says

- Sorry. I just thought no one would care... - Percy says. Clarisse punches his shoulder hard this time.

- Stop saying that! Or did you forget what I told you before? - Clarisse asks serious this time

- How could I forget with me holding on to your hand so that you wouldn't fall...but in the end, you decided to fall from that cliff - Percy says serious too. Clarisse looks away.

- Look, I'm sorry, okay? But we were too weak. It was me or us both...and I would never forgive you or myself if something had happened to you because of me...and the kids needed you too. So, don't blame me - Clarisse says.

- I'm not blaming you. I just don't want you to decide what is best for me or not. I'm the one who decides for myself. If I want to jump from somewhere, I will....and I wouldn't let anyone stop me, not even you... - Percy says serious

- Okay...I'm sorry. But, serious, you have so much to live for. Your family, your friends and many other people who care about you... - Clarisse says

- People...like you? - Percy teases and Clarisse only rolls her eyes.

- It's serious! - Clarisse says

- But I am talking serious here. You pretend, but deep down, you have a big heart, Clarisse. I know that you think that many people fear you, but it's not the whole truth. There are some who admire you and care for you too. Like you just said...your family and friends need you too. Especially your mom. Do you remember that you wanted me to protect her for you because she would be devastated? Do you? - Percy asks and Clarisse only looks away, but nods her head.

- See? The world doesn't need only Percy Jackson, it needs Clarisse La Rue too. Who else could make me so mad that I would use my power for the first time to throw the toilet's water at someone's face? - Percy asks and Clarisse only laughs.

- Yeah...you are right. I guess I should thank your father sometime for saving my life - Clarisse says laughing and then she gets serious.

- Don't worry about it....it was the least he could do after you saved my life - Percy says

- I know. But I still would like to thank him someday... - Clarisse says while she looks at the trees. Percy looks grateful at her.

- You know...I'm going to my mother's house now to spend some days there...and I know she likes you and you like her....so... - Percy says

- So? - Clarisse asks and crosses her arms

- Would you like to go with me? - Percy asks

- Do you even have to ask? - Clarisse asks and hits hard the tree next to her, making a backpack fall from it.

- You knew! - Percy says and smiles at Clarisse

- I hoped! - Clarisse says and walks away. Percy follows after her.

- When we arrive there, I'm gonna show you my video games. They are very awesome. I think you'll like them - Percy says

- When I win against you, of course I will like them! - Clarisse says and laughs

- In your dreams! - Percy says

- What? Do you wanna bet? - Clarisse asks with a devious smile

- Of course not. Betting with you can be a nightmare...I don't trust you - Percy says

- At least you are smart! - Clarisse teases Percy

- Hey, Clarisse? - Percy asks

- What now? - Clarisse asks

- Before you fell...did you just say that you loved me? - Percy teases Clarisse this time

- In your dreams, Jackson! - Clarisse says and laughs. Then she runs away.

- Hey, come here, Clari! - Percy says and laughs too while he runs after Clarisse.

[wildroseofarran]

Life Events, Part II || Captain Issott & Charles || November, 2020

Leslie: Charles' phone would begin ringing at 11 am sharp.

Charles: He was putting the finishing touches on a pb&j sandwich when he felt it vibrating in his pocket. Still, he managed to answer.

"Hi! I was just going to ring you when I'd finished here. You're on speaker. Rory, say hello."

Leslie: A loud and triumphant hello from a boy over the moon for peanut butter and strawberry jam. Leslie just laughed for a moment.

"It's the man of the house! With the other man of the house!"

Charles: "Indeed." Charles joined in the laughter, popping his son's discarded crusts into his mouth before nudging him toward the island, plate in-hand. "Are y-"

He paused to finishing chewing and swallow before continuing. "My apologies. Are you ready for me, then? Do I need to bring anything?"

Leslie: "Not unless you wanna see Rafflesia again, just bring yourself."

Charles: "All right. I'll be just a few minutes."

Leslie: "Same place, but... might want to have Kurt think of the driveway instead. It's a bit wild here right now."

Charles: "Oh?" Leslie would have to hear, rather than see his raised eyebrow. "That shouldn't be a problem."

Leslie: "Roger that. See y'all soon."

Tristan was given a smile. "On his way."

Tristan: Tristan took a deep breath, returning Leslie's smile. He felt kinda nervous but he was doing his best to combat it.

"Good. How we feeling?"

Leslie: "I'm alright, but this has been on my mind for months now, so... maybe I'm numbed."

Tristan: "Don't know if that's better or worse than being so nervous you hurl."

Leslie: "Have you hurled?"

Tristan: "Nope, no hurling." Just a vaguely queasy feeling.

Leslie: "It's been a year." He waited to see if Tristan would catch what he'd meant.

1:46 AM] Charles: True to his word, Charles appeared in a cloud of sulfurous, blue smoke a few minutes later. He closed his nephew's fingers around a crisp bill and watched him depart before turning to find his friend.

Tristan: Tristan's smile threatened to split his face right in half. "It sure has," he said softly, reaching for Leslie's hand. He had to fight every day to keep the weight of his love and devotion from spilling out of his body and drowning this man; he knew exactly what Leslie meant.

He didn't even notice Charles' arrival as he got swept up in the moment and leaned in to kiss his witch.

Leslie: "Here's to another year," he said into Tristan's hair.

Ah. That familiar whoosh of Kurt, given a wave from the side of the road. The A-frame cabin was long gone. Replaced by a much larger foundation and the unmistakable headache-inducing sound of construction.

"Over here!" he called, waving Charles over.

Charles: Charles was grateful for the distraction of the demolished cabin, both surprised by Tristan's presence and feeling as though he was intruding on a private moment.

But of course he'd been invited. He lifted his hand in greeting and made his way to where the pair stood.

"Hello, Tristan. Les," he began, voice slightly raised to be heard over the din. "Looks like you've come a long way! I didn't even know you'd started the expansion. Or, rebuild, it seems."

Tristan: Tristan greeted Charles with a warm smile. "Hello back," he called above the noise. "You ain't kidding. It's at that point where it looks so bad you can't imagine it ever looking good."

Leslie: "Nothing gone to waste. The same wood from the old cabin for the floors. You know me," he laughed quietly. "Clive talked me into what's basically a hotel room for a guest room near the garden. It's for him and Hazel, he insists. When the time comes."

Charles: "Not a bad idea," he said, eyeing the mess and trying to imagine the future house in its place. He wasn't doing a very good job of it. "How long do you predict it will take to finish?"

Leslie: "They've said at most seven months. Oh, my father had some shit to say, but he's in Charlotte, so he'll have to put up with it."

Charles: "About your design or the construction?"

Leslie: "The construction. The design was - well, he had a few in his pocket the moment I moved out."

Charles: "I'm sure he'll be pleased with the finished product, then."

Leslie: "Blueprints are on my laptop back at Tristie's. Interested in walking around and using your imagination, or heading to his house for our lesson?"

Tristan: "Not for nothing, but the second option also comes with fried fish and yellow rice if you're hungry."

Charles: "I could eat," he confessed, despite the crusts he'd eaten less than an hour ago.

Leslie: "I'll drive," he smiled. But first! No proper greeting without a hug from the professor.

"Been too long since a proper lesson. Now you have a partner."

Tristan: There was that pride again, as brilliant as the first day he'd practiced with Leslie.

"You're not the only one who can magically light candles now, prof."

Charles: Charles returned the embrace, clapping his friend warmly on the back before releasing him. "Oh? Congratulations! It's incredible, no?"

Leslie: "He's incredible. You'll see. I've been saving something because I'm curious, want you to witness, and I have something to ask you."

Tristan: "It's awesome, I feel like friggin' Superman."

Charles: He laughed softly. "Before you know it you'll be leaping tall buildings in a single bound."

Leslie: "Now that I'd like to see."

Tristan: "I wouldn't go that far but lighting a candle without a match? Does not get old."

Charles: "Come now. The sky's the limit. But you're right about the candle lighting. Quite entertaining."

Leslie: "There will be no modesty in this classroom today or any other day. You both can light an actual fire. Move past the candles."

Tristan: "It's cheap entertainment," Tristan chuckled. "Like walking Opal."

Charles: "Agreed. Don't rob us of the simple pleasures, Les."

Leslie: "Is a bonfire not as pleasurable?" asked before climbing into the driver's seat.

Tristan: "Sure, but I can't fit one of those in the living room without running the risk of burning the house down. Want shotgun, Charles?"

Charles: "Can't argue with that logic." He shook his head, already opening the back door. "You go on."

Leslie: "Just wait. We'll have a proper fireplace when the house is finished. And a green house. And a fire pit. I've kept all of my rocks. Ruby and Ester want to help with the redesign."

Tristan: That made Tristan smile. "Yep, we sure will. And I was serious about getting us those Adirondack chairs. We can have one set for the deck and another to put around the fire pit."

Charles: "Do they?" He hadn't known they were aware of it at all. "I'm sure it'll be lovely. I look forward to seeing the finished product."

Leslie: "Mm." A glance back for traffic before pulling out. "Halloween was the last day it stood."

Charles: "That long? You've been busy!"

Leslie: "Had to talk Clive into staying in Charlotte. Teachin' Tristan as I've taught you. Moving to Tristan's place came first."

Tristan: "Feels like they only took it down a couple days ago, to us at least. Poor Logan across the street has had to listen to the racket from the very beginning. We'll make a plate for her," he added to Leslie.

Charles: "Makes sense," he nodded. Charles didn't know a Logan outside of his own, but he could sympathise. "Perhaps buy a nice pair of earplugs as a gift."

Leslie: "I've wanted to get her something noise cancelling, but that was even before the destruction. Her house is loud with memories and bad energy."

Tristan: "Mama has noise cancelling headphones she really likes. I'll ask her what brand they are and we'll get one for our very gracious neighbor."

Charles: "That's very kind. I know I'd appreciate it, in her place."

Leslie: "What have you been doing since Samhain?"

Charles: "Oh, you know. Much of the same. Work. Wrangling the kids. More work." Then there was the matter of the home he and Mason were designing for their family. Small world.

Leslie: "Should I be surprised you have time for yourself?"

Tristan: "Gotta find the balance in life, prof. Can't be burning the candle at both ends all the time."

Charles: "Of course not. I make time. My kids would protest if I didn't. Besides, winter break is just around the corner."

Leslie: "Did you make time before the children?"

Tristan: "Got any plans for the break?"

Charles: "I did. Perhaps not as frequently, but I did." He lifted a shoulder. "Not aside from the usual holiday celebrations. I'd like to spend a few quiet days with the family. Perhaps in Cameron. Nothing concrete."

Leslie: "The house in Cameron looks like a novel," he said to Tristan. "Something Hazel read to me, but for the life of me I can't remember the damn name."

Tristan: "Size wise or decor wise?"

Charles: "Decor, I'm assuming." He gave a little chuckle. "It's a rather unique design. I was fascinated the first time I saw it. Now, it feels very much like home." He'd miss the old place, when the time came.

Leslie: "Like a Victorian home from a child's ghost story. It's the definition of lovely, but not at all my taste."

Tristan: "Oh cool, like the Addams house?"

Charles: "Something like that." The corner of his mouth curled in a tiny, private smile. "I used to feel the same way you do, Les. But it's grown on me. I suppose that's to be expected."

Leslie: "Do you prefer it to the school?"

Charles: He hummed thoughtfully. "Sometimes. It isn't about the building itself. I love what I do, but I'm never alone when I'm there. It's nice to be with only my husband, on occasion. With only my family. My nuclear family, at any rate."

Leslie: A side-glance was given to Tristan.

"I can understand that, when it's all day every day. Must be a relief, having other teachers live with you."

Tristan: Tristan caught that glance and smiled in response. That was a good sign, wasn't it? Or at least a sign.

"Do your kids go to your school, too?"

Charles: "Yes and no. My school is technically for middle and high school aged children, but when the younger children arrived, we got a tutor for them."

Leslie: "How are they adjusting, the little ones? Almika? Rory?"

Charles: "Quite well, given the circumstances. Fewer nightmares, overall. And I no longer have children asking me if I'm going to send them back. We've earned their trust, at the very least."

Leslie: "Blessings to that."

Deep breath. "I'm eager to have my progress assessed today, in a new environment. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement for Tristan, to shield his mind?"

Tristan: Tristan's brow furrowed. "Shield my mind...?"

Charles: "I... sure? I don't see why not." Charles nodded, though Tristan likely could not see him. "From telepathic ability," he explained.

Leslie: "I want him to become familiar with protection first and foremost."

Tristan: Tristan turned in his seat to look at Charles with that same delighted expression he always got when discussing magic.

"Charles, can you read minds?"

Charles: "I can," he confessed, with some amusement.

Tristan: "Is it an all the time thing or can you pick and choose where and when?"

Charles: "Bit of both. I can hear surface thoughts without trying. It's taken decades of practice to master blocking them out. Even now, the occasional pointed thought will slip through. Doing anything more takes conscious effort."

Leslie: "So keep your thoughts PG-13 in his presence. Or not. Spice up his life."

Tristan: Tristan laughed. "I'll keep it PG-13. My R and XXX thoughts are only for you, puddin'. I'll think ocean facts at the prof."

Charles: Charles dragged a hand down his reddening face. "Appreciate it. My life has plenty of spice, thanks." They didn't know the half.

Leslie: "Oh, I'm sure it does," the witch laughed.

Tristan: "What's the weirdest thought you've ever caught, Charles? Or most memorable?"

Charles: "Nothing is really strange, anymore. The most memorable minds are the ones I can't get a proper read on."

Leslie: "What's not a proper read?"

Tristan: "People who shield from you?"

Charles: "Not exactly. It's usually a physical ability, of some sort. Brain chemistry, or a psionic blocker. I once knew a telepath less powerful than I was, in that regard, but she possessed the ability to turn into some sort of crystalline material that I couldn't penetrate. I don't believe that it was diamond, but it might've been."

Leslie: "Another Ester?" Leslie perked. "Is she still around?"

Tristan: The wonder and delight were back. "There's a second person who can turn into a diamond on this planet?"

Charles: "Not exactly. And I don't know. After she and her companions attempted to murder me and mine, we didn't part ways amicably. Last I heard, she'd allied herself with the Brotherhood."

Leslie: "Seems every species has some... fracture. My people are no exception."

Tristan: "Well that blows. Also, the Brotherhood? That's a cult name right there. It's not a cult, is it?"

Charles: Charles laughed, softly. "Isn't it? It has all the makings of a cult, if you ask me. But its leader disagrees. Not that he and I agree on much. I love him, but he's so very wrong about... a lot."

Leslie: "Knowing oppositions, he probably feels the same about your beliefs."

Tristan: "That's the way it always goes. Everyone thinks their way is the best way, and some are even right."

Charles: "Well, considering that the actualization of his beliefs ends with the two of you dead or enslaved, I'm fairly confident in mine."

1:07 AM] Leslie: "The Technocracy believes everyone should be asleep. They gaslight, institutionalize, and murder dreamers. They say it's for the good of humanity, the universe. They work with hunters. Started the inquisition to murder my people and vampires alike, as though we're the same. I have no doubts they're the same people saying your kind are dangerous."

Tristan: Tristan shook his head. "Definitely a fuckin' cult," he sighed. "They all think they're special but end of the day, some jagoff or consortium of jagoffs is fucking someone over to water their ego flower same as all the others that came before and will come after."

Charles: "If they are, they aren't the only ones. He isn't wrong about the danger or the hate, just about how to combat it." He lifted a shoulder. "I like our odds. We're making strides all the time."

Leslie: "Every species has their villains. Blanket statements bother me greatly."

Tristan: He nodded. "It's part of the human condition as Meg says. Or the people condition as the case may be."

Charles: "Naturally. That's why it's so important to stand against them."

Leslie: "We are as bias as they are. We believe we stand on the right side of history, and history is told by the victors. Only time will tell."

Tristan: "Just have to make sure the prof back there wins. I like his odds, too."

Charles: "Thank you for the vote of confidence." Said with utmost sincerity.

Leslie: "Of course he will! I know exactly what he would be otherwise."

Tristan: "Absolutely, Charles. Now talk to me about the kind of seasonings and vegetables and fish you like. I'm no Leslie in the kitchen but I hold my own."

Charles: "I'm sure whatever you have on hand is fine. I'm not particular."

Leslie: "Always modest." Leslie was grinning. "That modesty will give you whole chicken like the Beltane festival. Remember that? Immature egg yolks and cockscomb?"

Tristan: "Leslie, my love, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

He turned in his seat again. "At least tell me if you're a spice person or not so I don't accidentally set your mouth on fire."

Charles: "Oh, definitely not. Let's just assume I have the palate of a toddler. The milder the better, please."

Leslie: "So a chicken liver pâté with stuffed mushrooms? Got it."

Tristan: "There will be no liver in the house ever," Tristan chuckled. "I gotcha, Charles. Got some lemons from my mama's tree, I'll go lemon pepper."

Charles: "Sounds delicious."

Leslie: "No liver?! You've stabbed me, merman."

Tristan: "Blame Mrs. Pennyapple for scarring me for life as a child and making me hate liver."

Leslie: Leslie smiled a knowing smile and shrugged. "Does mild mean no liver for you, Charles? I forget what you pushed off your plate in May."

Tristan: "Don't let him goad you with the evil liver, Charles!"

Charles: "You heard the man, Les. No liver."

Leslie: "I'll be sous chef tonight, then. No liver."

Tristan: "What would you like, sous chef? Want lemon pepper on your fish too?"

Charles: He nodded, satisfied, and settled back against his seat, head tilting to gaze out of the window.

Leslie: "I'm under your orders, chef. But also that sounds good so why not." Leslie smiled.

Tristan: "Bitchin, lemon pepper fish it is. And just in time," he added as his house came into view.

Charles: "Wonderful!" Charles watched the house through his window, straightening in his seat as they approached.

Leslie: Leslie parked behind Tristan's truck, tossing the keys between his hands as he so often did when his mind was clamoring.

"Go ahead and give him the tour? Gonna get some stuff from the trunk."

Tristan: "Sure thing, doll."

Tristan hopped out of the car and spread his arms wide. "Welcome to our humble abode, prof."

The house was simple and modestly sized but in a prime location right on the water. The nautical decorations on the front porch gave a hint as to what was inside: an unmistakably masculine shrine to maritime history and nautical odds and ends.

And fish.

"Come right in and make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?"

Charles: If nothing else, Charles lived for the view. It was precisely why he enjoyed looking out over the lake from the roof of the school, and why he'd chosen the location he had for his family's new home.

"It's lovely," he said, sincere, and shook his head at the offer. "I'm fine, thanks." His mouth lifted into a crooked smile, eyes warm. "If I hadn't already known what you did for a living, I might've guessed."

Tristan: Tristan laughed. "We Segers do like to wear our professions on our sleeves. My mama's a literature professor; bet you can guess what she's got all over her house."

Charles: "Oh, I'd love to see her collection. I teach literature at my school, among other things. I'm running out of space to put my books. I'm just grateful my husband is willing to indulge me by building shelves." He smiled wryly, thinking of the house again.

Leslie: Leslie paused in the living room to argue with his jacket. Two brown bags in his arms and keys in his mouth.

Tristan: "Oh she ran out of space aaaages ago." Tristan rushed over to help Leslie with his cargo. "What she does is, every quarter, she goes through and picks out the ones she didn't like and sells them to the used bookstore."

Charles: "Wise. I keep everything that isn't completely falling apart. If even one of my students gets something out of a book, it's worth having."

Leslie: "Would be nice to have the space," said Leslie. Made sense that he hadn't a collection. Leaving Charlotte meant leaving many of his books behind in his old bedroom. Fitting only what was essential in his Jeep. Now, with a new home, he could begin again.

"Got some things for games today." The brown bag still in hand was placed on the dining table. Three red jars of wood wick candles, black, were placed in a row; a spool of twine; two fist size, smooth rocks.

Tristan: "My mom would agree with you. Feeling more and more like I should introduce ya'll."

Tristan poked his head into the bag he had taken. "Oh yeah? What kinda games? Are there prizes?"

Charles: Charles lifted an eyebrow at the items. "I have the same questions, actually. This doesn't look like any game I've ever played."

Leslie: "I should hope not! These are games I learned from the Order of Hermes when studying Force. They're about as competitive as a Tradition gets."

He pointed to the twine and rocks. "Racing games. Who can control their flames and get to the center first. Wrapping the rock in twine and throwing; who can light it midflight."

Tristan: Tristan grinned and kept on grinning as Leslie described the games. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

"Are we about to have a magical field day?!"

Charles: "Sounds entertaining," he said, with a crooked smile. "And it'll definitely be a first, for me." Who didn't love novelty?

Leslie: "Be the first for him, too. Look at his face," Leslie laughed. "I got wood wick candles because - just because. I like the sound. Wanna keep y'all on your toes. By all means, use your wands if you want."

Tristan: "I definitely will use my wand and I also approve of your candle choice. I do have a very important question: are we getting prize ribbons?"

Charles: "That is an excellent question," he agreed, grinning.

Leslie: "I uh, I'll make ones," he laughed. "Ah! The winner gets a choice dessert!"

Tristan: "Sold, that's even better than a ribbon! I'm in. We doing this before or after food?"

Charles: "Oh, Tristan, I'm sorry but this will not be a friendly competition," he chuckled. "Not with dessert on the line."

Leslie: "How hungry are y'all?"

Tristan: Tristan laughed. "You're on, prof. Also, I could stand to work up an appetite. Fish and rice don't take all that long to cook."

Charles: "I'm fine to wait. The food will taste all the better with victory."

Leslie: "Alright. Let's begin with a friendly race." Twine was unraveled by four feet, approximate by eye, and severed with his pocketknife.

"Let's go outside for this." The ball of brown twine was tucked under his arm. Out the backdoor and back into fresh air.

"You have a folding table you won't miss?"

Tristan: When fire was involved, a fire extinguisher was always a good idea. Tristan grabbed it on the way out.

"Don't go counting your chickens!" he called to Charles as he went around the side of the house. He had just the thing Leslie was after. "Does it matter if the table smells ever so slightly like fish?"

Charles: Charles laughed and turned to Leslie when Tristan disappeared. "Anything I can help with?"

Leslie: "Don't matter, babe!" He smiled briefly at Charles. "I'll be tying the rocks while y'all race. Playing ref has its perks. Still prefer hands to your wand?"

Tristan: "'Kay!"

Tristan grabbed the slightly fishy table and carried it back to where Leslie and Charles were. Up until recently it had been used on his ship to clean fish, but a new, sturdier table had rendered it obsolete.

"Here we go. One expendable table."

Charles: "Alright," he bobbed his head once. "I believe so, but we'll see how this goes."

Leslie: "Excellent!" The string was laid the length of the table. He pointed to either side for them to stand. A small pale rock nestled against the steps was placed middle of the string, resting delicately on top.

"This is as much about control as it is speed. Burning the string evenly from tip to pebble. Not one long flame, but like, a uh, a fuse."

Tristan: Tristan contemplated the task before him and weighed his options. To wand or not to wand?

"So we're going full Wil E. Coyote, huh? Hmmm....."

Yeah, this seemed like a lightning rod sort of situation. Wand it was!

Charles: Charles nodded his understanding, fingers flexing in anticipation of the exercise. "Seems straightforward enough."

Leslie: "This is the most straightforward it's going to get. Would y'all rather practice with the candles first?"

Tristan: "Yes, please. I need a warmup before I kick the prof's butt."

Charles: "Oh, I do admire your ill-advised confidence," he grinned, in good humor. "If the Captain wants to practice, we'll practice."

Leslie: Leslie would gather the candles, bringing two of the red jars to the table. A new environment. One with a light but stimulating breeze. He was interested in observing how they adapted outside of a quiet room with closed windows. Wondered how he could further disrupt their expectations.

"Boa sorte! Good luck!"

Tristan: Lighting magical fires in a windy environment was new, but doing it outside wasn't. Tristan had taken to practicing in the wee hours of the morning while waiting for Oliver before they headed out to sea for the day.

Surely the wind wouldn't make that much of a difference; if anything, it was soothing.

Tristan took a deep breath and did his bit, psyching himself out at the last second by worrying the wind was going to blow out the candle and failing his first try. But a quick rally later, he was able to get it on the second.

Charles: Inclined to practice in those rare moments alone, he sometimes found himself on the roof of the school, lighting and extinguishing the fire pit his husband had placed there. This couldn't be much different, could it? He took a beat to examine the candle before making his attempt. It sputtered for a moment and caught. A little rusty, perhaps, but not terrible.

Tristan: "Nice job, prof! Got it in one go." Not bad for a man who'd dealt with science for most of his life. Then again, that was probably how Leslie had felt about him when he'd managed to light the candle that day in the living room.

And look at them now: a fisherman and a professor, lighting candles with magic.

A few more successful lightings later, Tristan was ready.

Charles: "Your witch is a good teacher. Took me awhile to get the hang of it." He smiled crookedly at the fisherman before turning back to the candle. Extinguishing was always trickier, but what better time to practice? Charles stopped when Tristan did, looking to Leslie with hands stuffed in his pockets.

Leslie: Leslie had taken to the steps, wrapping twine as a net over various sized rocks.

"Y'all don't need me for the next bit. Time to try your hands - or wands - at the fuse trick. Anyone wanna place bets?"

Tristan: "He is, isn't he?" said Tristan, beaming with pride. Despite his limited experience with magic, he was certain he couldn't have asked for a better teacher than Leslie Issott.

"I bet a round of proper Carolina hot dogs that I'll beat the prof."

Charles: Charles gave a soft snort. "Winning is its own reward. I'm ready when you are, Captain."

Leslie: "I want a nice clean fight," Leslie laughed. "Wands or no wands. Remember: consistent like a fuse!"

Tristan: "Sound like my mama, Charles," Tristan chuckled. "Must be a professor thing."

A moment's consideration had Tristan deciding against a wand for this particular event, much as he enjoyed using it. He trusted his hands just fine to keep that fuse going.

"All right then. Ready, steady, aaaand...go!" Tristan lit his string and let his inner Wil E. Coyote loose.

Charles: "Must be," he chuckled, focusing his attention on the thread and debating how best to approach this task. With a nod, he sparked a flame, urging it forward with all of the careful control he could muster.

Leslie: Leslie wanted to keep his distance. To move would possibly cause a distraction. The last loop of the last knot finished the netting of another smooth stone. Looking at his creation reminded him of his own trials. The matches played against Tonya and Troy in their youth. These were moments he hoped would be ingrained for Tristan and Charles' remaining years. These were milestones.

Tristan: This was like sailing. You picked a spot on the horizon and rode the wind. The pebble was his horizon and magic was his wind and he was going to ride it all the way to the pebble and beat Charles.

"I got to the pebble!"

Charles: The telepath wasn't too far behind. Even after Tristan announced his victory, Charles pushed the last inch or so to the finish line. "Done!" In the spirit of good sportsmanship, he extended a hand to the sailor, grinning widely. "Fair and square, my friend. Congratulations."

Leslie: Leslie rose to his feet to inspect, grinning from ear-to-ear and raising his arms. "Look what y'all did! You did that! He wanted them to feel proud. Every ounce of confidence would only aid their next game.

Tristan: "Fuck yeah we did!" Tristan clasped Charles' hand and shook. "Congratulations yourself! Good job, prof. Ready for the next one?"

Charles: "Certainly. What's next on the agenda, Les?"

Leslie: "What's next is taking these rocks and alighting them midair. Hand or wand optional. I've got y'all covered if something goes afoul."

Tristan: "Magical skeet shooting, got it. Do we get to say 'pull'?"

Leslie: "Use me as you will. Not gonna warn for all of them."

Charles: He lifted one chestnut coloured eyebrow. "We're setting rocks on fire?"

Leslie: "It's why I've been making nets around them."

Tristan: For this next event he was definitely using the wand. Thinking of it as magical skeet shooting was actually getting him in the proper frame of mind.

"I think we should move this over to that dirt patch over there. Doing this over flammable grass seems like we're tempting fate."

Charles: "Wise. I'd feel awful if we burnt the place down."

Leslie: "I'm here. I won't let anything happen that shouldn't. I promise."

Tristan: “I believe you, doll,” said Tristan, shooting Leslie a winning smile. “It’s more for me than the risk of actual fire. One less distraction.”

Charles: "You're the teacher," he shrugged, flexing his fingers. "I'm following your lead."

Leslie: "Have to start somewhere. Failure breeds progress, don't be ashamed of it. Let's start with something controlled." Leslie walked into their line of sight and held his arms out, not intimidating in the least.

"Throw a fireball at me."

Tristan: Tristan's eyes widened. He was fine with potential failure but he was very not fine when that potential failure could affect Leslie.

"What--no! What if something happens and we hurt you?!

Charles: Charles nodded toward the fisherman. "I must say, I'm with the Captain, on this one. Seems like a terrible idea, Les. 'Failure' really shouldn't lead to serious injury."

Leslie: "I think you're both forgetting I'm practically from the Order. Failure would only be in your learning - won't be in my catching whatever mistake you make. I promise."

Tristan: His uncertainty--which was written all over his face--was due more to his own inexperience than to Leslie's ability to neutralize a problem or move out of the way. He completely believed Leslie could protect himself. One hundred percent.

Tristan just wasn't sure if he believed he'd have enough control not to create a situation where Leslie wouldn't have to protect himself. But Leslie sure seemed to believe. That was worth a hell of a lot.

Still--"You plan to catch the fireball? Or do plan to move out of the way with lightning quick reflexes?"

Charles: Charles raised a skeptical eyebrow. He had placed himself in danger for the purposes of education more than once. Perhaps his hesitation was a bit hypocritical. Still, he waited for Leslie to answer the posed question.

Leslie: Leslie smiled, patient. "Whatever the situation calls for. Depends how terribly this goes - which it's not gonna be a disaster! Y'all are too cautious and too advanced. You've been practicing throwing fire onto wood. It's been your homework for months."

Tristan: “Yeah, wood! Not a loved one!”

Forget magic, this was a trust exercise with multiple layers. Leslie’s trust in them, their trust in Leslie, their trust in their own abilities.

The real kicker was going to be not psyching themselves out and being unable to do it at all, which…yeah. That was a big possibility.

Tristan turned to Charles. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

Charles: "Wouldn't be fair." He gave his temple a pointed tap and shook his head. "I'll go, if it makes you feel better."

Leslie: "You'd be the best poker player in the world," Leslie laughed at this epiphany.

"How about this. We'll start light." He had assumed the little game to be a proper warm up, but maybe not.

The witch stood between them, held his hands together in diamond shape, expanding outwards to create a pale blue and orange flame.

"Take it from me."

Tristan: "Oh yeah, the mind reading deal. Yeah, you're right." Rock, paper, scissors definitely wouldn't be fair against Charles, but Tristan did find himself wanting to play with him. To test. Who knew, maybe there was a way to beat him if he--

Focus, Tristan.

He smiled. Apparently their theme was still fire but this was a lot less nerve wracking. "Now that's a horse of a different color."

Tristan had no idea how to take a flame from someone, but decided to try to draw it toward him with his wand to test the waters.

Charles: Charles gave a gentle snort. "If I needed a large sum of money quickly, I suppose. But I think telepathy would take the enjoyment out of the game." And if he were going to become a thief, there were simpler ways, for a man of his abilities.

He watched on, curious to see if Tristan would be successful, and internally debating how he would tackle the task, when it was his turn.

Leslie: Leslie watched calmly, intent on refraining subtle cues based on Tristan's body language. Should Tristan obsess on action rather than will, nothing would happen. The same as every learned spell leading to this moment.

And yet, despite his objective, Leslie took a slow deep breath. Just the smallest hint, he swears.

Tristan: The small hint was more than enough. Even though Tristan hadn’t been practicing magic for very long, he’d learned enough to know it wasn’t just about the magic itself.

It was about him, and about belief.

He had to believe the flame closer for it to move anywhere, to exert every bit of his will to make it happen. Not enough to lose his head or his cool; just enough.

“Come on, little flame,” he murmured. “Come to Tristie.”

Charles: Charles stifled a laugh, not wanting to seem rude or break Tristan's concentration. But the self-encouragement was delightful. He watched on curiously to see if it would benefit him.

Leslie: The flame appeared influenced by Tristan's intent. Flicking towards his wand as though caught by a nonexistent breeze. It was a start. For never suggesting such a spell, Leslie had expected next to nothing.

"Remember how it feels moving a flame from your hand to the fire pit. Rather than throwing it, you're simply taking it back."

Tristan: Tristan grinned from ear to ear. His little victory encouraged him enough to bring the flame all the way home, marveling at it as it hovered over his wand. Not bad for a first try, if he said so himself. Not bad at all.

"Gotcha! Okay, prof, it's your turn."

Charles: Charles bobbed his head, turning to face Leslie fully. His fingers flexed experimentally. He knew the motions and emotions that helped him conjure flame. He considered the mechanics of drawing the flame closer. Another nod, and he extended his hand, curling his fingers inward and trying to will the ball of flame toward himself.

Leslie: "Don't hold it for long, still wood." Leslie waved his hand over the wand to extinguish. "Take it and give it back, or take it and blow it out," he said to Charles, squaring his shoulders and resetting the spell.

Like Tristan, the flame considered Charles' intention. Flickers of blue and orange began to flutter in his direction with as much care as a firefly.

Charles: Is confidence only grew, the telepath delighted at the gentle progress of the flickering ball. When it was close enough for him to feel its heat, he extinguished it neatly. That, at least, was familiar.

Leslie: Leslie's smile was pure praise. Both men certainly deserved it. "If y'all can do this, if y'all can light a fire pit, y'all can light a moving object."

Tristan: “Kinda think I believe you now, babydoll,” Tristan said with a grin. He did feel a little more confident, but it remained to be seen whether he could react quickly enough to light something in mid-air.

He turned to Charles. “Who goes first this time?”

Charles: Charles dipped his head, gesturing between the pair of them. "The floor's yours, my friend."

Leslie: As much confidence as Leslie had in these two, they needed it themselves. His summers in the Order were quick paced. They would have been burning rocks two weeks into their training. But those were awoken children, and these were adults only scratching the surface of their capabilities.

He had to be patient. Wait for them to believe in themselves.

"So, starting light again." A rope was tied around one of the netted rocks, holding it like a sad yo-yo. Slowly, rocked like a pendulum.

"Light it up, captain."

Tristan: "Starting light," Tristan repeating, rolling up invisible sleeves. He'd pictured something similar to skeet shooting so this was already doing even more wonders for his confidence.

A steadily moving target had to be easier than a randomly moving target, right?

He considered his approach, immediately scrapping the first one that came to mind in favor of a more abstract one. Rather than focus on the rock and where it was, he was going to focus on producing a flame and sending it where it needed to be. Willing it there, just like he'd been doing this whole time.

So that was exactly what he did. Tristan willed his little flame into existence and willed it onto the rope around the rock.

Leslie: They would graduate to skeet shooting eventually. Leslie seemed to have more confidence in their abilities than they, so yo-yo they did. And surprise surprise, Tristan was a natural. Why he was a natural was an unanswered question. How he was raised was only a factor. Tristan was an open-minded man, and that was another factor.

Leslie was proud of him, to say the least. As much as he wanted to reward him with a kiss, he wanted to keep the momentum going. When it came to Charles' turn, the witch expected similar results.

Tristan: "Fuck yeah! I did it on the first try!" Almost as unbelievable as being a secret magical prodigy.

They would absolutely celebrate with a kiss later but for now, Tristan celebrated by doing a victory lap around the yard while Charles took his turn.

Charles: Much simpler than he was expecting the task to be. And certainly less concerning for Leslie's wellbeing. Charles snorted softly at Tristan's chosen method of celebration and turned to face the witch. The pendulum swing was steady enough for him to mark the rhythm before he sparked the flame and sent it forward on an invisible current.

Leslie: Leslie softly laughed, watching Tristan with Charles a moment before refocusing. In this safer setting, both men seemed at ease with their magick, allowing it to create as they imagined. The flaming rock was tossed up, landing in Leslie's palm extinguished.

"Child's play. I've got another idea. If y'all can do it, I'll call this a successful lesson. We'll leave skeet shooting for next time. Deal?"

Tristan: It was absolutely child's play, in that Tristan felt like a little kid on Christmas morning whenever he managed to get his magic to do what he wanted it to do. He wished he'd been doing this his whole life.

"Deal. What's your idea?"

Charles: Charles nodded his agreement, flashing a smile at the two of them. Child's play, indeed. He was enjoying this time, flexing muscles that were often left stagnant. It was nice to have a break from responsibility, however brief. "I'm all ears."

Leslie: Leslie stepped further into the backyard, bringing his pile of stones with him to stack neatly into a pyramid.

"We're gonna build a bonfire. Each log I stack, you'll set ablaze yourself. We'll celebrate with some wine for your successes."

Tristan: "Great! Let's do it. We're celebrating with food though, I'm working up a hell of an appetite." That lemon pepper fish he'd promised was calling his name.

"Are Charles and I taking turns? I do one log and he does the next?"

Charles: "You had me at wine," he said with a smile. Food would be a lovely bonus, he supposed. Charles tipped his head in Tristan's direction, still looking at Leslie. "An excellent question, actually."

Leslie: "Could be, or could be a race for each log. Loser drinks," the witch grinned.

Tristan: "A race is just fine by me," Tristan said with a matching grin. As much as the idea of food was starting to creep into his mind, a good contest was hard to resist.

So he would shift his concentration to the task at hand and focus on building this bonfire with Charles as accurately and quickly as he could manage. And after so much practice, he thought he managed pretty good, win or lose.

Charles: Charles was game for more healthy competition. He rolled his shoulders and turned to face the beginnings of the bonfire, ready to light when the first log touched down.

When the fire was crackling merrily away, giving off incredible heat, Charles turned to his hosts, sleeves long-since pushed up to his elbows. "That was fun. And I believe we were promised wine."

Leslie: Each log ignited by his apprentices before added to the inferno. It was slower, safer, but these were not Hermetic mages. They were not the only ones learning something tonight. He had to have patience, and a gentler hand. The craft was not their first and only passion.

"Wine and good food. Maybe smores, if we have everything. Do we?" asked as he disappeared inside.

"There's something else I'd like to talk about, once I've popped the cork."

Tristan: "Uhhh...." Tristan took a mental catalogue of the pantry. "Yeah, we do. I think we even have some of Logan's fancy marshmallows left."

And who was to say that fancy homemade marshmallows wouldn't make Charles more open to what they had to say? Maybe that would make all the difference.

"You pop the cork, I'm gonna get going on the food."

Charles: "Sure. I'm all ears, whenever you're ready." Charles trailed behind, lingering by the door. "Do either of you need a hand with anything? I've got two."

Leslie: Gia, how to begin this conversation. He'd gone through it before with Tristan. More than once, in fact, and now with Charles just feet away he felt like a child. Perhaps that was where this should come from. No sense in withholding honesty, verbally and emotionally.

"If you wanna make a tray for the smores." Deep breath. "We wanna discuss... the idea of adopting Ruby and Ester."

Tristan: Tristan felt something catch in his throat and chest. "Yes, that's right," he said with a nod.

They had gone through it but even so he was nervous. The two of them practicing in the living room was very different from actually telling Charles.

Charles could say no. He could say yes but he could also say no and Tristan was...scared of that potential no. The possibility of it--which they couldn't just ignore--made every insecurity he'd ever had since birth come bubbling to the surface. Leslie was good enough to be a father to those two little girls but was he?

Taking a deep breath, he got the smores supplies from the pantry and set them out for Charles to arrange.

Charles: Charles dipped his head in agreement. It was a task nearly impossible to muck up. He was about to ask where he could find the marshmallows and chocolate when Leslie broached the true topic of this visit.

Was this where all the nervousness and hesitation had stemmed from? It might have been a touch insulting, if he didn't empathize so much.

He smiled kindly. "I can't say I'm surprised, given that you've taken to each other so well. That's a wonderful idea. It's an involved process, as I'm sure you know. But as long as the girls are amenable to the idea, you have my full support. I can contact my attorney, if you'd like. She's experienced, and helped the process run smoothly with Rory and Cee."

Leslie: Leslie all but laid over the kitchen island. Forearms crossed on the counter. That child-like feeling had yet to dissipate. Only churning his stomach and warming his entire being.

"That would be great. Thank you. Thank you. I haven't broached the subject with the girls yet. I wanted to speak with you first before ever -" he just gestured. "There was no need to plant that thought if it wasn't going to happen. If they say no, they say no. But, we've done our research. Let this sit for months to make absolutely certain, but there was no need. Nothing's changed."

Tristan: It was too soon to feel relieved. He'd been so worried about Charles saying no that it hadn't occurred him that the girls could say no. What if they didn't want him and Leslie for parents? What if they wanted Leslie but not him?

Tristan couldn't let himself think about that. Wasn't his mother always telling him that negative thoughts invited calamity?

"Les is right." Deep breaths, just deep breaths. "We're sure. We are making a very informed decision and we're sure of that decision. And thank you, for not saying no. Really, Charles. Even if they say no, thanks for not saying it."

Charles: "Of course."

He offered kind smiles to each man in turn, reaching out to give Leslie's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Every child deserves loving parents, and you both more than qualify. Let me know when and how you'd like to proceed. Both with the girls, and legally speaking."

[mr007pennyworth]

An Open Letter - 'To The Other Half Of Me'

Ship; Alf x Gareth @dontcxckitup

_

To my bravest captain, best friend, confidant and soon-to-be dearest husband, I do hope you come across this letter in the best of moods.

I have few words to describe the most recent year that has passed let alone the immense joy it has been to finally have you back at my side. After Thomas and Martha died, I feared the black that enclosed young Bruce, whom I have spent my life raising alone, would never cease to hover across the estate never mind our days. Now you have returned to me on the faith of many a prayer I may have made over the years it seems the gloom of Gotham may have finally lost its grip on us both.

I never have been much lucky in life, nor has the world been all that caring or loving either since that day I left you on the borders of Libya to face a mass of horrors and lies in Israel. I felt damned from that first car ride away from the base, knowing I was leaving you to a new fate of growing on your own, not knowing how much I longed to call you my love. Never knowing whether you would receive my letters or even wish to read them once I had gone, I could do nothing but simply try to make my feelings known line by line until I could return to England to find you. I held on to every correspondence with hopes I'd see you again, leave my bed every morning with them tucked safely in my trunk and the bullet you once scratched your name on in a pocket of my vest as we patrolled the borders.

My life at the point before I met you had become stale and I longed to return home for some sense of purpose again. Your presence in my life has brought colour and warmth to everything and every day I am grateful that you stood by my word and side all these years. You have added new meaning to my life and it has never felt this brilliant before.

Even now that I am no longer the man that once asked you to trust, and follow without question, asking you to understand that your safety was all that mattered and I wouldn't lead you astray, I once again ask you to follow me into the new life we have agreed to build together, knowing that the only thing that matters is what we want from here on out.

I promise to give you the life you always dreamt of, we will surely make one of the best power couples the world has ever seen, I can not wait to seek new adventures with you beside me as my husband knowing that a long-running army gag was indeed precognition to our future together. I apologise that this new world and realisation of my love for you came about after the death of your wife, I can wholeheartedly say that should she have been here today she would be immensely proud of the man you have become, as much as I am, despite what you have suffered through. 

Whether my heart is weaker, my legs are unstable and my mind has been damaged from years of abuse by my own hand or Thomas Wayne’s, I can swear on whatever God you care to name that my love for you will never falter in its intensity and grows richer every day that I awake to find you at my side. 

I apologise beforehand for my overbearing protective tendencies or my need to mother unto distraction at times, I have become so used to fathering Bruce that I just know my hand to guard you will lead before I can reconsider myself. I admit it will be difficult to step back and allow you to be our own man after so many years of being no less than your older brother in some of our most exciting yet dramatic times together. I can only hope my affections or my parenting will not drive you up the wall too soon before our wedding day. 

My love for you feels endless, enough so, that I have feared many a night drowning in the intoxicating sense of you, spending nights in my bunk with my heart wanting to tear itself from my chest with its screaming. You may find I have become rather more open with my affection after all these years, but now knowing it is reciprocated and with none to judge it is impossible for me to have any sense of control over it any longer. I may have been broken but I can promise you that we can repair the cracks over time. 

You have become everything and more of what I wished for you, from a scrappy second Lieutenant you have grown into a most intense and outstanding human being and I am honoured to say I had been the hand you agreed to hold both back then and as of now. 

You have flown to heights that no one could have ever predicted and it’s beautiful to see how invested you have become in the life you have built for yourself, I can only hope I can become an addition to that life that does not feel threatening. 

It is no use denying how much light you have brought into my life when even Bruce has come around from his childish dependency on me and begun to step forward himself now as a genuine businessman and he himself can not wait to be witness to our union and perhaps finally seek out a life beyond the city he cemented himself into at the death of his parents. 

I do hope the prospect of becoming a stepfather to him will not discourage you from making your own place in our lives in turn. I fear it would be impossible for me to set him free completely even if I have recently requested to be retired from my position as Head Butler of the Wayne Estates. 

I have amassed a wealth beyond imagination over the past twenty years of being under service to the house and with Bruce paying for mostly anything of the requirement for the grounds or himself I have had very little to spend it on but a few small niches and feel it is about time I seek to find ways to spend it not only on yourself but out in a world that I will be blessed to see at your side. 

As the day of our wedding grows closer, I hope you understand just how much your love means to me that you accept me even now after everything we have faced, knowing that we can become even stronger and face even more together once again, scars and nightmares aside, we can build something beautiful to enjoy until the end of our lives. 

I promise with every fibre of my being to be the soul mate you require to get through anything we may come to face, I promise to love you every second of the day and through every second of the night, I promise that I will fight to stand up for our marriage even when my legs have finally failed me or my heart grows unstable enough to be unable to follow you into danger.

It is with everything I am and all the years we have behind us that I promise you that I will be the only man in the world you will ever need. 

with all my love, adoration and admiration and soon to be yours forever

Alfred J Mallory-Pennyworth. 

[sparrowmoth]

SPARROW MY BESTIE MY BEAUTIFUL BESTIE!!!

im gonna fill your ask box with the sappiest most disgustingly uwu message ever bc ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY AND IM GONNA THROW MY LOVE AT YOU LIKE ATTICUS' NINJA STARS!!!

seriously, though. you are one of my favorite people EVER. you're one of my best friends. you've done way more for me than you'll ever realize and have shown me nothing but kindness and good will ever since the moment we met. i could not find the words to expreess how thankful i am that you exist and that you're in my life. that you looked at me and pointed and went OH. FREN!! and kept insane little me in your pocket. that we get to dissect our insane little blorbos like frogs and giggle and rubs our little hands as we make them suffer but also that we get to have insanely thoughtful and important and educational conversations, IMPORTANT conversations. im never afraid to speak my mind whenever i talk about something im unsure about and im never ever drained from hanging out with you. thats pretty fucking special, sparrow. just like you.

i hope your birthday is the absolute BEST with everything and everyone you love, laughing and getting cuddles and cake and all the cute things and i hope this year is another one for fun and new adventures! oh and here's to more playing games together. here's to our friendship.

okay im getting awkward now i love you here's a deeply inspired keysmash that expresses how much i cherish you as a human and as a friend: NSJDDKFKDKWLDKCKDNWNFFIEKFJRKDKcfmdmckslkcfmcmfjwirikfmdlaldoxajNjJjsskxkdkdkckck

@villainsnest SOFIA MY BESTIE MOST BELOVED HELLO 🥹🥹🥰🥰💖💖 THIS IS THE BEST MESSAGE OF MY LIFE AND I AM WARM AND FUZZY ABOUT IT FOREVERMORE THANK YOU VERY MUCH I LOVE YOU MORE THAN WORDS

you are ALSO one of my favourite people EVER and I am forever grateful to have met you. I can’t remember what life was like before you were part of it because you’re such an important presence and you make me happy every single day. I LOVE that we can be insane together and just as easily flip the switch and talk freely about important and difficult subjects. I’m so glad that you feel safe to speak your mind around me and I’m grateful that I can say the same towards you. I just love talking to you no matter what we’re talking about. You energize me just by being you and that’s such a rare, beautiful thing to find someone who has that effect on me. You’re absolutely amazing to know and I’m so happy that I get to call you one of my best friends. ❤️

My birthday has been nothing but wonderful so far and this message makes it all the more so! This year is going to be a good one, I think. I’m going to make it so! We have so much to look forward to and I’m so excited to play more games with you and talk about media (hopefully this will be the year we get to lose our minds over TWST anime FINGERS CROSSED) and just enjoy another beautiful year of friendship. Life is gonna be good no matter what because you’re apart of it. 💕

JDKAJGKDSJKGDJKGJKD I LOVE THIS DEEPLY INSPIRED KEYSMASH. KEYSMASHING IS A WHOLE LOVE LANGUAGE AND I FEEL THAT ONE IN MY SOUL. THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, BESTIE, AND THANK YOU FOR THIS BIRTHDAY MESSAGE, YOU HAVE ALL MY LOVE FOREVER 💖💖💖

[0721am]

Hello, my love! 💫

I hope you are doing well! @thelilacdews

Today is the 11th of July, and I couldn't do posts for the previous four days. I feel crap about it. To commemorate the missing days, here is a long post about it.

Before I began writing to you, I went through our previous celebrations and grasped the depth of our transformation as individuals and in this friendship. I'm proud of us. Despite every hurdle in our journey, we stood against it and chose to move forward. We're badass peeps!

On the 7th of July, my day was fully packed to the brim. I couldn't catch a moment to breathe. This doesn't mean I didn't like the day. I love a busy day. I felt productive and satisfied with the work I did. Since the 7th of July marks the start of the 2nd week, I am sending you heaps of love and good luck in the hope that they will blossom your life.

The 8th of July was pleasant. I had a relaxed day, though there was much work to accomplish. I love challenges. Did I accomplish everything I set out to do? Nope. Was I okay with it? Yes. This is something I never expected from myself. For this day, I'm sending you the comfort to ease yourself even if you didn't accomplish what you set out to do. It's okay, we've got tomorrow.

Oh, oh, what a glorious day the 9th of July was! I ditched my work and binge-watched a series called, 'My Lady Jane.' For hours, I kept giggling and kicking my feet because of the sweet enemies-to-lover story with a ridiculous political plot and the villains' terrific desires. I was losing my mind at every predictable and unbelievable plot twist. Absolutely-fucking crazy. Along with this, this parched heart of mine got drenched with heaps of Bangtan content. It's been 84 years since the last Bangtan Bomb. When I saw the notification, I thought I was delusional, and perhaps hallucinating. But it was the sweet reality. Truly speaking, my day is ordinary and dull, but then, there are pockets of sweet moments here and there. I'm grateful for these sweet moments. So, I hope your day, despite the various hurdles you encounter, may be filled with the pockets of sweet moments.

The 10th of July went in ache for the new episode of 'The Acolyte.' This is my current obsession. I am in love with this show. Gosh, where can I even start about this show!? I can't wait for your life to slow down to watch this show with me. A sweet reminder - I can wait as long as you need. The obsession started with one GIF of the villain, and it was love at first sight. Crazy. Bizarre. No character ever seized my soul like the villain did. Gosh, I am yearning to see him again. I sound like a damsel in distress. 'Oh my love, where are you? My heart aches and unable to part with your presence. Your absence filled me with grief.' The villain is fucking hot, and I am losing my mind. Please join my chaos someday. Hence, I am sending the GIF of the hot villain who captured my heart. (Shhhh, it's the arms!) *drools*

[snowdust64]

Ouma Great War Chronicles - Episode 28: Haven’t You Been Taken In?

Narrator:  Tsubaki’s research topic was a radical one that touched on the taboos of the world. However, with Kaida’s recognition of his talent, calling it interesting and worthwhile, Tsubaki’s heart was intensely swayed. In the days that followed, Tsubaki met with Reizei’s close retainer, Nikaido.

Nikaido:  That will be all for Rihito-sama’s instructions regarding this next move.

Tsubaki:  I understand. See you then…

Nikaido:  This time, don’t fall behind on the specified timetable. We’re buying time for you while we’re all busy on our ends. It's a hassle to deceive and conceal from those around us. If you’re lagging behind, those hassles increase. You’re not so incapable as to not comprehend that, are you?

Tsubaki:  Sorry. My meeting with Kaida ran too long. When it comes to research, he tends to forget about time. Really, what a troubling person.

Nikaido:  … You. I don’t like to think this is possible, but instead of getting into that guy’s pocket, haven’t you been taken in?

Tsubaki:  Eh? Th- there’s no way…!

Nikaido:  Hmph, what are you all flustered for?

Tsubaki:  Nh, you’re wrong! I do understand this properly. That guy is an enemy. I couldn’t possibly feel attached to him.

Nikaido:  I don’t care what happens to you. Just don’t smear mud on Rihito-sama’s face.

sfx:  footsteps

Tsubaki:  ……

scene change

Nikaido:  Rihito-sama. I’ve returned from making contact with Tsubaki.

Reizei:  Ah, well done.

Nikaido:  About Tsubaki… It seems he is starting to waver. Depending on the circumstances, he may need to be dealt with.

Reizei:  I see. So that child will not stay stable. Could the reason be that he is too pure, or…

Nikaido:  If it becomes dire, I will have it settled.

Reizei:  Thank you, Shuugetsu. You may be my only faithful follower after all.

Nikaido:  … I am most happy and grateful. *

Narrator:  Ever since the time they went to eat together as a group of three, Nagao, was sparring with Saionji almost daily.

Nagao:  Masamune-san, please practice with me today too!

Saionji:  Sure. This time, you’ll take one round, right?

Nagao:  Of course. Now, let’s have a fair and square match!

sfx:  running; slashing

Nagao:  Ngh!

Saionji:  Naïve! I’d buy your ambition, but don’t bring that sloppy attitude to a battle where your life is at stake!

Nagao:  (Damn, I want to focus and get a close look but he has no openings! But, in our exchanges during practice, I think I’ve figured out that there’s some unsettling feeling coming from that katana. Whether this has to do with the “non-human presence” that Toujirou was talking about, I can’t affirm yet…)

Saionji:  Hey, where are you looking!

sfx:  slash

Nagao:  Kh…!

Saionji: What’s the matter? Is your mouth the only thing that’s praiseworthy? Your momentum is lacking!

Nagao:  I can fight more cautiously too! Haah!

sfx:  whoosh; impact

Nagao:  Gh-h! A kick!? You and your foot habits, so unfair!

Saionji:  Because I can use it like a sword that you’re not a good match for. What it means to let your opponent take the initiative, remember it with your body!

Nagao:  Tch… You’re just doing whatever you like huh!

Saionji:  However much you move around, it comes down to the attacks, right?

Nagao:  I get it already! Horaah!

sfx:  slashing

Saionji:  Your gaze is too obvious! Wherever you intend to strike, I can see it all!

Nagao:  Wha–!?  Ghah!

Saionji:  Taken by surprise, and in such a poor stance, of course this is how it would turn out.

Nagao:  Damn it… One more round!

Saionji:  No, we’ll end here today.

Nagao:  Why!?

Saionji:  You know why, don’t you? Today, you’re not focused at all.

Nagao:  Uh…

Saionji:  I don’t know it you’re aiming for something, but if you go on in that state and get injured, it’s all over. Get yourself together before the next time. A’right then, I’ll be going back to the kindergarten. You rest up a little and head back too. Tomorrow, besides the missions for the Bureau, you’ll help out with the work over here, won’t you?

Nagao:  Yeah. Thank you very much.

sfx:  footsteps

Nagao:  D’aah! It’s no good… That person has an impenetrable defense! Although, I never had the expectation of catching his tail right away. I’m in for a rough road ahead…

==========

Translation notes

*  Just to clarify – Nikaido’s response, ‘arigataki shiawase,’ is to thank Reizei for the preceding compliment, which brings him great happiness.

[desirmanifeste]

Hop snap turtle birch chirp sunny side up it's a most wonderful life who's to tell you what glimmers and shines it's a bird's world out there a penny for a barettte a beercap for a silver ring crow your destiny live out a day's search it's fly high and land forbidden strech your wings as you guffaw in wonder plane and divde sound the irrimitable cup of destiny twinkle little stars in your eyes they're as valuable as a trinket or a lighter or a pen learn to land learn to eat worms on the rainy days the cold and wet days the water will repel and soak right through you it's come and dismay love and display pray and forlong tempt and decide hop skotch two on to the beat I heard a mumble and a few more within the grass I peeked a check an incision of forethought eye skeptical peak erratical the dissonance is outrageous oh well here's some confetti I found eat it or splunder it I might use it in a daydream later on that's why they say to always keeps some in your pocket jump up jump down slide our stride and discover the incremental the voice rejoice hum drum and all the rest bouncing in and out with or without a pulse I see it in my hands see it in your eyes receive oh so much it's a lot to handle and get a look at all that I refuse bring forth such gratitude of the kind that heals and nurtures I am imminent and futile lost and found in the same body of a cloud pilot in a grey forecast attention everybody this is your captain speaking I'd like to know who put all these fish in the cabin I feel like I'm inside an aquarium mark my presence in this world for I'm part of it actor and participant hold me accountable this is hyper-realism the present is real and I will live by it and around it for what feels like an eternity sun by the day is the determinant of my tempo long loving to the act to the focus to the consolation catch a flyer through a bug net catch a hopper in a trap set hold your hands up into mine and I hope a little tree might grow if we push squeeze firm enough for delight and fusion outset grace of an instant we're clasp and a desire much more to adorn and inquire my bugs babble and bedazzle as a forest there's luxuriance in this step and the next there's the epitome of let's say not much but that's because talking in absolutes makes no sens but there is a purpose in our acquaintance if not solely to have been witness to each other's existence tell me when we collide will it be through the lens of a kaleidoscope fractals and glass visions mutating in permanence total reformation abstract elevation rime once rime twice what sort of deliverance is to be looked for what deliberation is necessary remember eyes to your own soul bring hindsight to your play check the periphery there's gratefulness to be had allow yourself to elevate give yourself the possibility the commnunity is around you supporting you cheering you on it's not about doing everything by yourself it's asking others for help calling upon them to join you call upon yourslf too the succesful and yearning version of your person they're strong and powerful, they will hold your hand and accompany you through your hardships.

Of tremor and fortitude

[mlmxreader]

Hello, my dear! NEVER apologize for taking time to get through the asks!! Like I said, I'm very patient and I'd rather you look after yourself first, the requests come second, ALWAYS 💕. And I hope you're doing alright and that your animals are well 🖤. I'm glad that writing is able to provide you with a much needed distraction, hopefully the muse stays with you and continues to provide a reprieve. (As always, let me know if you would like requests, and I would be more than happy to send some in 🥰)

I'm not gonna lie, my brain has been so scattered lately that I cannot remember which was the last request I replied to 😓 um so apologies for that. So if you don't mind, I'm just going to start with Power Cut and work from there. If I missed others, I'm so sorry, just know that I honestly do love everything you write for the Tom Hardy characters and that I am forever grateful to you 🙏🏽. Also, some of these may be short replies but I love them all equally, I'm just a little laggy (is that a word?!) lagging at the moment (I'm so sorry!!) but I really don't want to leave you hanging for all the tremendous work you put into these so here we are.

×Power Cut×

[...] a lot of things just weren't the same when they weren't handled by you. But he couldn't bring himself to admit it, even when you pressed the mug into his hand and smiled so warmly at him. He never really felt home anywhere, but your smile always brought him there.

🥹🥹🥹

I'm sorry? Hello, cuteness overload? Yes. They make him feel like he's being rough home? ROBERT SAGINOWSKI!!!! And they cuddled in the bed 😫🫠🥰 and he's adding that to the things that wouldn't feel right if it wasn’t with them? What an unbelievably sweet and wholesome piece!!! I'm freaking gushing over here. It's beautiful!!

×Overworked×

The scent of your cologne confirmed it all immediately. He was real. Everything around him was real. It wasn't some dream. He relaxed a little, until your voice came out slightly muffled and distorted to his ears.

😟 My sweet baby Eames! My darling no!! Cobb you bastard! But I love that he has reader and that they atleast provide him with some form of grounding. The detail you put about Eames being able to discern (a little, at least) that he is in fact real when he feels them close, feels their presence, their scent just beautifully illustrates that point. I really do hope this poor man is able to find someone he can talk to that may be able to help him.

At least you knew that he wouldn't be treated like shit for going through something that seemed to be pulling apart the seams of his brain, picking away at the stitches and snapping the knots. At least you knew that he was somewhere he was loved.

😫😭😭😭😭 fuck. Let me give him a hug.

×Dream a Little Dream of Me×

My love, my life

🫠🫠🫠

Grabbing the chain around your neck, you gave it a firm tug to release the pendant from beneath your shirt; a sharp wolf's tooth, wrapped in strong metal and hanging from the chain. "Always. Do you have the chip?"

Eames patted his breast pocket. "Always."

Listen, listen... y'all are flipping cute as hell.

You nodded, holding onto him tightly as you sighed and closed your eyes. "I've missed you, y'know. Nowhere feels like home without you."

🥹🥰🥰🥰

The comment about the sides, hehehe! Listen, babe, we'll push it and you'll fold because you love us so 💕.

×Appointments×

"I won't," Bane hummed. "I'll be there every second of every day if that's what you want, little one."

Supportive and caring Bane..... yeah, he also has my heart 💓. Poor reader though! Honey, you did absolutely nothing wrong and quite honestly, I don't think you could do anything that would make him love you an less. But they'll have Bane there and hopefully they'll be able to get the help they need.

×Auguries of Innocence×

Bane quoting a poem to reader has me swooning. Big bear man, speaking ever so softly, lilting the sweet and soft sounds of prose... like damn. Holy shit, damn. That in and of itself is art.

You couldn't help but to laugh. A pink outline had formed around the contours of his mask. You made him blush; so long being together and you could still make him blush.

Ehehe! We made him blush!!! My darling, are you okay? Do you need some air?

Okay. For this one, I had to actually search this up because I was not familiar with either the poem nor the poet but let me tell you.... their prose is so fascinating! Thought provoking and it really hits you with some of these lines like:

He who replies to words of Doubt

Doth put the Light of Knowledge out

[...]

He who Doubts from what he sees

Will neer Believe do what you Please 

If the Sun & Moon should Doubt 

Theyd immediately Go out 

To be in a Passion you Good may Do 

But no Good if a Passion is in you

🤯, and also, I feel like I'm being called out right now😂!

The poem recited by Bane is: Song: Memory Hither Come by William Blake

And Robin Red Breast is a reference from Blake's poem: Auguries of Innocence

(I think I got all the references 🤔)

And yes, I will definitely be checking out more of their work, thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

And now onto the works concerning my BELOVED!!!! (I love them all but only ONE of them rules my heart and that is Alfie Fucking Solomons)

×One Look×

Okay first, I freaking love the warnings you put for this chapter 😂. Yes thank you for letting me know that this would concern a very possessive bear man!

Did he appreciate you at all?

Umm. Of fucking course. Why the hell else would we be so fiercely loyal to this man. I also love that Alfie made sure that his s/o would now exactly how to take someone out if they even thought to touch them. Like fuck 😳😳 that's hot.

Luca fully ogling reader, scripting verse in his head about their beauty...

👀👀👀 My sir, how have you not been cut down by Alfie already?!?!? Like the man can see exactly what you are doing with that gaze of yours. But I love it, because being the man of actions that he is, Alfie will SHOW him, yeah, he'll show Mr. Changretta that in this house we only see, breathe, and live Alfie Solomons.

"My partner," Alfie barked out. "You touch even a fuckin' hair on their head - I will cut you down."

HAHAHAHA. YOU'RE KILLING ME! HOLY FUCKING SHIT 🙃🫠🥵 MY BLOODY WORDS!!! HI BABE. FUCKIN' HI BABE. OMG!!!!! Fuck.... I'm sorry but Alfie.... that's fucking hot. That kiss, ohhhohohiiiiiooo, I'm dead. Fucking obliterated. I hope you know that, you've bloody killed me. In the wise words of A. Solomons: fuck me. And also FUCK ME.

×I Want You to Stay×

You would snuggle into his side - always denying it the morning after - and he would hold you [...] and Alfie would feel you fall asleep almost instantly while he smiled and, for a moment, watched you sleep.

JSLSKSBFJKSKXBDKSJXBSLSJXHS!!!!! What I would give to be snuggled up to that little shit of a bear man....

Alfie groaned, daring to open one eye. He grinned. "You were watchin' me sleep."

Cheeky bloody bastard! We fucking love him!!!

"Fuck off, I was not," you huffed. "I was just making sure that you were still breathing… unfortunately you are."

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I'm a broken record but I don't care, I BLOODY LOVE THEM!! THEY HAVE MY WHOLE ASS HEART!

"I fucking hate you," you muttered, your gaze going to his lips. You swallowed thickly, unable to stop yourself, your body acting quicker than your mind as you closed the distance.

FUCK ME! YES, FINALLY!!!!! Oh my and the kiss was so soft and tender and the little "Please, give us another kiss, please." Oh lords. Oh gods. Holy fucking shit. Oh my words. Hahah🙃😳🫣🫠😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰. I imagine he whimpered a little too and I'm..... I'm totally fine 🙂...

Okay, but when I tell you that I desperately needed Alfie for like this whole month, I'm not even exaggerating. My sweet murder bear!!! And for it to be the Feisty pairing ... come here, I know you don't like hugs, that's why I'm giving you several virtual ones 🫂 🫂 🫂 🫂. I absolutely adored how you had their relationship being build up from the small aspects (reader ensuring the puzzles were in place for Alfie when he got there) to Cyril, and the little dinner dates (cause that's what they were). I just love, love, loved it oh so very much!!!

Like literally, not gonna lie, if you're up for it, at this rate, my requests for Alfie may end up building an entire series around this, and some of your other Alfie pairings (AKA, the pairing where Alfie gets jealous of Cyril, definitely the My Lieutenant, maybe the Shock Troop pairing) bevause I literally CANNOT get enough of them!! I've gone feral with your Alfie writing, if you couldn't tell from before (but obviously creative liberties are always with you, if the pairing doesn't work out with the prompt, don't sweat it 💙) but yeah, i love the breath you give to the character of Alfie as well as the reader. Seriously, you are an actual gem, never forget that.

As always, I loved, loved, loved each of these so very much!!! Cannot express how grateful I am that you continue to write them, they are literally everything! Never fails to put a smile on my face. Thank you again and I saw your requests were up, so expect me on those soon, my darling! Probably tomorrow I'll have some time to gather up a list and spam you but until then, much love, stay safe, stay as well as you can be and I'll talk to you soon, my lovely writer! (Sorry for this ask turning into a miles long essay 😅)

🖤🖤🖤

🐍anon

hi!!!! thank you 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 genuinely, thank you for being so patient and understanding 🫶🏻 I'm doing as well as I can be, tbh, there's been developments but I'm not at liberty to discuss anything rn bc idk if it's gonna last, tbh. but hopefully if it DOESN'T, then I can update everyone on what's going on bc it's a lot and I'm tired bc I've been working as much as possible in order to get money 😭 writing is VERY MUCH proving to be a useful distraction from most of the shit going on rn ngl, so I'm thankful for what I can get. so you can always send more if you want to tbh.

I'm p sure the last one you read was the one before Power Cut, I THINK!!! I'm not 100% sure tho 😅 but the good news is that I updated my masterlists so if you want to, you can go through and see what takes your fancy!!!

Power Cut

THEY'RE SO CUTE TOGETHER 😭😭😭 Bob is literally so head over heels it's SICKENING, but reader feels the same so he's fine dhgkskfks they're happy, bless em.

Overworked

Cobb fucked up this time, massively. Eames is always so confident (bordering on cocky), and now he's second guessing almost everything except for the ONE THING that's always given him a reality check. reader is aware how people who experience dissociation can be treated and is gonna make DAMN SURE that Eames doesn't go through that.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

THEY KNOW EACH OTHER'S TOTEMS, THEY'RE SO ENTWINED THAT IT DOESN'T IMPACT ANYTHING 😭

Eames: don't push it

reader: hold my beer. I'm gonna push.

Appointments

SOFT!BANE!!!!!!!!!!! reader has had something happen to them that's completely fucking turned everything on its head, but BANE IS STILL THERE. he'll always be there. he loves them, he's LOYAL to them, if Dr. Frank talks shit, Bane will make sure that he gets his due for it.

Auguries of Innocence

BANE LIKES POETRY IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS, THAT MAN LIKES POETRY, especially stuff by, like, Wilfred Owen and William Blake. anything along those sorts of lines. HE IS A POETRY FAAAAAAAN

Bane might be a big, beefy, "talk shit get hit" commie w the brawn AND the brain, but HE IS A SOFTIE AT HEART 🥺

YES!!! IT'S WILLIAM BLAKE!!!!

you're spot on w Memory Hither Come and Auguries of Innocence, BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT also Broken Love. 👀

I love Blake's work, if I'm honest, I love his poetry more than his art, but honestly, he was such a beautiful poet; London is one of his most famous for good reason, it's fucking great and if you're only JUST checking out William Blake's work and you're not familiar w his style, it's a WONDERFUL introduction to it!!!

One Look

"did he appreciate his s/o?" man, you tell me lmfao his s/o is so loyal that they don't even acknowledge Luca 💀💀 let alone acknowledge the fact that he is BLATANTLY checking them out.

Luca is in a really shit situation, bless him; his enemy has this magnificent s/o, and Luca clearly wants them and he's gotta sit there and just TAKE the fact that they won't even talk to him directly dhfosjfksjg rip my man Luca Changretta but Alfie won. big time.

Alfie doesn't give a single fuck who's in the room - if they even THINK about his s/o in a way he don't like, he's gonna make sure that they know who belongs with who.

PLEASE DON'T DIE, I STILL WANNA WRITE DHGKSJGKSKGJ AND YOU'RE FUELLING ME W THE REQUESTS!!!!

I Want You To Stay

"I hate him" my brother in Christ, you literally snuggle into him at night 💀💀 what kinda backwards hate is this

Alfie's cheek and the reader's snark is literally just the best thing. they're made for each other!!

something something intricate rituals that they're lying to him about, etc etc

Alfie was incredibly down from the SECOND reader burst into his office creating a direct challenge and basically going "you fuck around, you find out". and now he's FINALLY managed to get it out if them that they like him too 🥺🥺 brown bear and Bengal tiger vibes

shfksjfiajfjakfjak I'm so glad you enjoy it!!!! and that you love the pairing so much!!!!! it's all about the little signs of intimacy, baby!!!!! the little things that add up to SO MUCH bc it's the intimacy of being *known*, and being *seen* 🥺

honestly?? I wouldn't mind that AT ALL :D especially if you're gonna throw an excuse or two to write about the trenches in there dhgksjfksb I'd love it!!!

as always, I'm so, so glad that you enjoy them so much and interactions like these are what keep me inspired to keep posting my writing 🥺🫶🏻 tomorrow works for me, tho, I've got a day off so I can sit down and write!!!

[cherie-zip]

Angel Hotline: A Midnight Talk

The Siren puts a lullaby on me.

"So, care to explain why you're here?" 

The woman sitting in front of me showed no interest in averting her gaze from me, even when I attempted to divert her attention by swaying the glasses in my hands. To be precise, I was too afraid to meet her gaze—her Siren eyes. If I may be honest, I was trying to distract myself from her melodic voice.

Come to think of it, someone once said that it was bad luck to ignore someone who was talking to you. So, I just shrugged my shoulders, giggled, and attempted to meet her gaze. However, I failed miserably; her eyes were incredibly captivating. I had never been this close to a Siren before, and I never imagined their presence could be so intimidating.

"I know what you are," her voice resonated deeper than the ocean. Please, don't ask me which ocean, as I can barely swim in the seashore. "Didn't they say that angels would never belong to the human world?" 

"Nor a Siren," I replied with a smile, accompanied by a wink that seemed to aggravate her. She deliberately displayed her annoyed expression. Perhaps I should appreciate her anger management, as some sinful creatures struggle to engage in pleasant conversations for even a minute.

Finally, mustering up my courage, I took a seat and pushed a glass of chamomile tea towards her. "Don't worry, there's no poison in there. I assure you, chamomile tea is completely harmless for a siren like you. Unless, of course, you have a flower allergy."

She rolled her eyes, appearing increasingly annoyed, but still attempted to take a sip of the chamomile tea I had prepared. She glanced around, as if ensuring that no one was nearby, before handing something to me.

A white feather. 

"Is this yours, or does it belong to another angel?" 

When I say that I let out the biggest gasp of my life, please believe me. It may sound exaggerated, but I was genuinely taken aback when I saw what she held in her hands. My surprise only grew when I realized she had brought it back to me.

"It wasn't mine, but I know to whom this feather belongs," I said with a smile as I carefully placed the white feather in my pocket. "I will return it to its owner soon. Thank you for bringing it to me."

No matter how hard I tried to steer the conversation away, the woman refused to give up. She emitted noises resembling hissing, and then slammed her hands on the table, making her demand clear.

In that moment, I should have been grateful that she didn't opt to sing me a lullaby. Otherwise, it might have been the last time anyone heard about me. Or perhaps not? Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my back, causing my entire nervous system to react. I flinched involuntarily, providing enough fodder for the siren to laugh at my expense.

"Judging by your laughter, Madam, I believe you already have the answer to your question," I said, taking the empty cup of chamomile tea and secretly smiling, realizing that she had enjoyed the tea I had made for her. "I lost my wings. No, I actually broke them. They say it was a curse when I fell here. Yet, a miracle was bestowed upon me: the ability to heal the broken wings of every angel except my own."

Although her stares remained filled with malice, I could somehow detect a hint of sympathy amidst the irony, as I pretended to keep myself occupied with the dirty glasses.

"Every time an angel falls and breaks their wings, I must always be there to welcome them and do my best to mend their wings, which I have always succeeded in doing," I chuckled, finding amusement in both myself and her attentive demeanor. "Isn't it ironic to know that I am the sole owner of the Angel Hotline, capable of fixing all kinds of wings—you'd be surprised to hear that I've even repaired fairy wings—yet I am not allowed to mend my own."

"Is it painful?" she asked.

Once again, I burst into laughter, but this time tears mingled with my laughter, streaming down my face. The pain in my back resurfaced, yet it was the ache in my chest that hurt the most whenever she reminded me of the pain I endured.

It was undeniably one of the most embarrassing moments of my existence. Allowing my tears to be seen by one of the most sinful creatures, who regarded me with a sympathetic gaze. What could be more mortifying than this? People often claimed that angels were meant to laugh at beings like her, but here I was, finding myself the subject of laughter instead.

"It truly is," I admitted, my voice trembling as the world around me seemed to spin. "I couldn't help but envy the other angels whose wings were perfectly restored, without a single flaw, allowing them to soar back to the land of heaven. They fell, yet were swiftly forgiven. And here I stand, stranded in the human world. My envy consumed me, and perhaps that's why they chose to keep me here, believing I deserve to be cursed for eternity."

"And what are your thoughts on it?" she inquired, her smoky eyes fixed upon me, displaying a visible curiosity. She seemed oblivious to my miserable appearance, as I endured the pain emanating from my broken wings and something within my chest—likely my heart.

Once more, I burst into laughter.

“I think I deserve to be cursed, too.”