#i just think so few fics and stories in general have shone a light on the little fellas that inspired bruce's fear-striking get-up lmao

[batcave-dinosaur]

One fic I've thought about writing for the longest time has been generally about Bruce interacting with the bats in the Batcave. Maybe a couple years in, Bruce starts to think about how his presence in the cave might be disturbing the bat population and seeks advice from experts to fix that, possibly from Kirk Langstrom.

My man finds out about white-nose syndrome and is like Oh Fuck, I gotta quarantine these guys for their own safety so I don't disturb their hibernation over the winter. The rabies possibility is also a consideration. He researches the Milwaukee Protocol and makes note of it in his vast and growing list of contingencies. It may not be considered perfectly effective, but it's also the only way that anyone has ever survived symptomatic rabies. He'd rather it not get that far and notes down contact information for nearest places he can get himself and Alfred vaccinated.

The walls he builds (with doors in case there's ever a need for access) to give the bats a place to roost don't keep all of them out of the main cave space, though. He still finds some occasionally, squeaking and screeching in the stalactites. He makes sure to keep his vehicles and machinery within certain noise levels and pitches so as not to disturb them too much, especially in winter. When he's joined by little Dick Grayson and then others down the line, one of the first things he briefs them on when they first start venturing down into the cave (in the general safety rules presentation) is how to best respect the bats.

I also have this image in my head of Batman consensually kidnapping a willing chiropterologist (bat scientist) to bring to the cave in person (blind-folded and with no idea what route they took). Idk what for necessarily, I just think the image is funny. He goes to them as The Bat-Man and this researcher is feeling a lot of ways but mostly charmed by his autistic rizz and care for these animals. Especially the fact that of course he lives in a fucking cave. Of course he does.

[mercuriians]

can't remember to forget you

content warning — some profanity, mentions of alcohol, references to terminal illness. reader’s last name is mentioned once for plot purposes later on.

author’s note — HI YALL 🥴 this is totally unedited & i wrote this at 12am. i just wanted to get this out as quickly as possible so bare with me. as a fair warning there is a LOT to unpack with the reader’s backstory, and to be honest 90% of this fic is literally just you brooding over kenji LMAO 😭. this is basically just an experiment so if u guys like this plz let me know so i can write a follow up!!

you really have no idea as to how such an important piece of information slipped your mind. two of japan's most recent superstar athletes were returning home at the exact same time. it would've brought a smile to your face in any other situation. if only those two athletes hadn't been you and him. kenji.

it's been years since you two have spoken. well, those years were spent productively, with both of you dedicating much-needed time towards your respective sports. he rocked the baseball field. you shone on the basketball court. but at the end of the day, behind all the sweat and arena lights and post-game interviews, there was a sharp pain that remained unresolved at the back of your mind. the last memory you have of kenji is still freshly imprinted. you had been at his house, and having recently heard the devastating news of your mother being terribly ill, you had come to him seeking comfort. little did you know that he was hurting too, with another fight having just happened between him and his father.

there was so much going on at the time, so much to worry about and so much pain in general, that all the pent-up feelings between you two had burst within one crucial moment. he kissed you, and you kissed back. clothes came off. you ended up in his bed. for a while it had felt like heaven because yes, it distracted you from the worry that consumed you from the inside out, but it had also made your most secretive wishes come to fruition.

until that moment, only you had known how deeply and utterly in love you were with kenji, and how strongly those feelings had grown since you two were fourteen.

there was nothing else that could have made you happier. even now, you remember the feeling of his strong arms around you, the feeling of his mouth against yours. the way your name rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so adoringly, as he whispered it into your ear. the way he hugged you so firmly after you two made love, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

but then you also remember how something in him changed only a few seconds later. how the atmosphere grew dark the moment he pushed you off and told you to leave without even looking you in the eye. there's a part of you that wants to think kenji didn't mean to hurt you the way he did. it's the more naive, more hopeful part of yourself, spinning stories of how he actually didn't want you to leave, and he just said it because he didn't know how to cope with his own feelings. ultimately, it's all wishful thinking, borne out of a desire to believe that he maybe did really love you.

kenji broke your heart that night, and right now, even as you board the plane headed to tokyo, even as you put on a smile and sign an autograph for a starstruck fan, you admit that not a single thing has changed. you're still holding onto the past, and you hate yourself for it. especially when you realize that kenji probably moved on a long time ago.

"you alright?" your agent, himari, asks when you two sit down. she's one of the sweetest people ever, and you really don't want to lie to her because of the guilt that you know you'll feel. you meet her hazel eyes. you open your mouth to respond.

"yeah, i'm fine," you smile.

damn it.

as the plane takes off, you do your best to remove kenji from your mind, if only for a little while. perhaps inevitably, you start thinking about the very reason you've decided to finally come home. exactly two nights ago, there was a dream you had while you were sleeping. it was vivid in its entirety, and there was fire and people screaming and something very, very big in the distance, in front of what seemed like a sports arena. conveniently enough, there was some sort of fog surrounding the mysterious figure, but you didn't need to see it to know what it actually was. a kaiju.

you remember the words your mother told you before she passed away. it was an extremely painful memory, and really there was nothing in the world that could have encapsulated how helpless you felt when you saw her frail figure. she used to be so strong, so lively with everything she did and said. it took you a while to recognize the woman that laid in the hospital bed. however even with the tears that had stung your vision at the time, you heard the very last traces of her resolve within the very last words she said to you.

"when you're old enough, i want you to start what i couldn't. . to protect the world with the gift i'll give you. please. . just remember that i love you, and that it's worth giving things a second chance."

as you stare out of the plane window, watching the world pass by below you, the clouds mix together and blur into a white haze. a moment later, you realize that tears are threatening to fall from your eyes. you wipe them away with your sleeve before they have the chance to. i'll do my best, mom, you think, hoping that somehow she can hear you. i don't know where or how i'll start, but i will.

there's a lot of things waiting for you in japan, and you're not entirely sure if you're ready. but at the end of the day, it's your home, and you know deep within your heart that you'll do anything to protect it. sliding your sunglasses onto your face, you close your eyes and try to get some rest before the plane lands.

around twelve hours later, tokyo is there to greet you in all its glory. it's night time, but the way the city lights contrast so beautifully against the sky's inky blue-black canvas is more than enough to bring a smile to your face. "we're home, himari," you say to the woman next to you.

"we are, indeed," she breathes out.

“man, not even los angeles can compete against this,” you chuckle lightly. your words carry quite a lot of weight to them, especially considering how you were completely and utterly starstruck for the first couple of weeks you were in california. there’s a reason so many movies were filmed there. yet, tokyo remains on another level, still reigning as the undefeated champion.

fine. maybe you’re a little biased.

however, your smile fades away when you realize that the probability of seeing him—kenji—is at an all time high. chances are, he’s already here. waiting for you.

stop that.

you shrug off the thought, reminding yourself that he had probably moved on years ago. there was no use in entertaining an idea that had been burnt out for a long time. the only person that would end up being hurt would be yourself—and speaking from experience, emotional distress was a lot different than physical. physical pain you could handle. as a basketball star, you were pretty accustomed to them by now. ankle sprains, muscle cramps, even that torn acl from a year ago, which had hurt like an absolute bitch.

emotional pain was entirely different territory. and it was territory that you were not willing to cross. not again.

god, you were such a mess. maybe indulging in a momentary distraction wouldn’t hurt.

“hey, himari, you wanna know what i’m cravin’ right now?” you ask, a false smile creeping onto your face. the woman in question gives you a wary look, brows slightly scrunched together as if she already knows what you’re going to say.

“a good night’s rest before your interview tomorrow?” she asks flatly.

you shake your head. ��alcohol. lots of it.”

“ms. matsuda, i don’t think that’s a smart decision—”

waving her off, you protest, “just for tonight, i promise. we’re back home and i wanna celebrate. and how many times have i told you to call me by my first name?”

himari stares at you for a few moments before lowering her head and heaving a sigh. “fine. . [name]. please take care of yourself out there. and be prepared—i’m sure quite a lot of people will recognize you when you walk into the bar.”

you smile in triumph, holding up your sunglasses. “i’ve got that covered. sure, having these on at night are a little weird, but i’ll just pass it off as the new trend.”

your agent gives you another slightly concerned look before bidding you a good night. and with that, you start walking to the nearest bar. it’s small, inconspicuous, and lit up with only one neon sign. all good indicators that there’s probably not a lot of people in there. you walk in, head held high, without any trouble. your footsteps are light and unhurried against the wooden floor as your eyes quickly scan the environment—eleven or twelve people, give or take, two bartenders, a potted plant over by the corner. and a vacant stool at the far end. perfect.

sliding into the seat, you drum your fingers on the freshly cleaned counter as you decide on what to order. “the denki bran looks good, think i’ll get that,” you mutter to yourself.

you feel someone take the stool next to you, but you don’t pay it much mind. at least until they reply to your words. “yeah, it is good. pretty bold choice, though.”

your mouth drops open.

you hear the person next to you snicker quietly.

the snail-esque speed at which you turn your head would have been comical if it had been any other situation. however, it’s anything but funny when your heart jumps into your throat, when your eyes widen with pure and unadulterated shock as they meet those of familiar gunmetal gray bordering on black.

kenji gives you a sharp grin that’s only a little bit sheepish. “nice to see you again, ace.”

[theshortolivia]

Ok I finally got around to watching all of buddy daddies and I have Thoughts.

First off literally months ago I had a fan fiction idea in which rei’s father called him home, told him he knew about kazuki and Miri and had had them assassinated so rei would have no more connections (this was before I’d watched that Misaki was even in the picture) so?? I’m psychic maybe? That fic idea also included a 10ish year time skip so Literally

As a psych student I couldn’t help but read way too far into everyone’s actions. I know some people have said Rei is autistic coded and while I def do see that I also see similarities to isolated children cases (to a lesser extent of course he wasn’t isolated more deprived) which ends up with a lot symptoms we also see in ASD like the difficulty in reading social cues. in general reading way into Rei’s actions and words and relating it to his upbringing was super fun.

Super interesting that Rei, while clearly being emotional stunted and not the best with social cues, is super good at reading people, at least Kazuki and Miri

The CHARACTER GROWTH they clearly still have so much more to go but moving past unhealthy coping mechanisms? Processing grief healthily? Learning life skills? Learning to parent? Amazing

This anime shone light on so many real issues in modern day Japan (that are dealt with all over the world to different extents) that I’m just beginning to learn about now since I’ve been doing research since I want to go and maybe live there at some point. Namely same sex couples being still stigmatized by not a small amount of the population (we see the variety in acceptance with the first daycare woman and miss Anna) Also with gender labor division at home, Kazuki feeling taken advantage of and exhausted trying to balance home care and work and being frustrated Rei is not contributing equally in those aspects is something a lot of women deal w in Japan since the role of house and child care and cooking is still seen as the wife/mother’s responsibility while the man is the breadwinner a lot.

While the eventful ending was wonderful and shocking and scary and well done i was ultimately disappointed by the ending for a few reasons

Personally I don’t think an non functioning arm would make Rei’s father suddenly okay with him not taking over? Like as the head of the business I don’t think rei’s father is doing a lot of active assassin work anyway (I will write fanfictions about this don’t worry)

Disappointed that they made a point to include in the timeskip that kazuki and rei were not together instead of leaving it even just ambiguous with Miri’s comment about kazuki going out with a woman the night before or w/e. I know it was clarified to NOT be a BL anime so my expectations probably should have been lower than they were but idk the amount of tropes they so obviously put in there throughout make me feel a LITTLE queerbaited

The outfits were all ICONIC especially Miri’s I LOVED THEM

Finally, I have MORE STORY IDEAS NOW some bridging off from the canon end and some from earlier in the anime and I’m trying to get back into writing so wish me luck on that cause I’m SUPER inspired rn

[islaytonlost]

What Have I Done? LB;MR Fic

First Part, Previous Part

This is the final part. I'm sorry.

Disclaimer: Alfend is no representation of DID. Sometimes fictional shooting also upsets me.

------

Alfendi noticed the gun was missing a few minutes after they noticed Ercule’s car leaving, with Flora in it. They had to follow her and of course they remembered St Mystere. It’d only been the best story he’d heard. Parents who cared enough about their children to make them a whole village. It sounded amazing! He’d always wished for it.

He’d even been there before. After Flora left when he turned sixteen, he’d found her village. They all seemed so friendly, and he’d known it was the right place because how many villages had a destroyed tower. It was the closest he’d felt to her on the time she was away. They should have gone together.

Al manages to push himself onto command as they all got into the taxi. Katrielle offering a generous tip if he took them all the way to St Mystere and even more if he got there fast. She wasn’t kidding about the detective agency doing well. The driver was all too willing to accept. They got there in record time.

They agreed to split up, Katrielle wanting to interrogate the village people and Alfendi wanting to avoid being bombarded by puzzles headed straight for the mansion. All around him people were eating normally. You could never tell they were clockwork. Not even the puzzles truly gave it away, not when Hershel managed to act almost exactly the same and there was no way he was clockwork.

Alfendi crossed the river making his way over to the house, Matthew meets him outside, “it’s been too long Alfendi! I think you need to come in and see this!” he brings Alfendi to the portrait, he frowned. It moved? Clearly, he had not done his father justice last time he’d come here not realising this simple secret door. He headed through, finding himself in a room full of gold, spying the note left by the Baron he pauses. Unwilling to disturb anything. Destroying this village would destroy Flora’s trust in him.

Speaking of, where was Flora. Matthew climbs in, shutting the portrait behind him, locking the door, “I’m sorry Alfendi, she has Flora. I can’t let any harm come to her. You understand.”

“No! I need to find her. You don’t understand there are other people here, if they find her their lives are in danger! Please! This is my mess, don’t let anyone else pay for it.”

“Alfendi,” he interjects, “please, maybe we can keep them in here but I can’t stand to see the mistress hurt.”

“Fine!”

He sits on the ground until a knocking on the entrance reveals Lucy, “showtime!” She grins at Alfendi, “You better do what I say,” she grins.

Lucy looked so vibrant, so light on her feet. The idea of finally getting her revenge was a weight off her shoulders. It drained him further, like she was sucking his soul out of him. Even Fendi couldn’t seem to summon his usual rage around her. This was the end.

“Run through here and shoot Flora,” she hands him a gun, grinning.

“No,” What the hell was she thinking? He could never do that.

“Yes! You don’t have to do anything else, just run through and shoot her. I’ll forgive you if you do!”

“I- I…” he stares at the gun in her hand before taking a breath. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, but he wouldn’t have to. She would.

His sister was going to die. He’d be framed for something he’d never do. She puts the gun in his hands, “think about it. Either you kill her or I do. I’ll make it so much harder for her! She’ll still die. I’ll just make it worse and then, I’ll destroy this village too.”

“No!”

“Yes!” It was twisted, how it was Lucy’s voice telling him to do these things. She presses the gun into his hand, running off, “and, action!” Alfendi runs into the next room, spying Katrielle out the window and Flora standing in front.

Understanding shone in her eyes, “do it,” she smiles at him, “don’t worry about me, just keep Katrielle safe, and yourself. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you too.”

“She’ll think I did it,” he shakes his head, tears leaking out his eyes.

“Tell them what happened,” she drops her voice, “there are witnesses remember?” Al’s hands tremble, “Please.”

She was begging to die. No.

Yes.

Fendi pulls the trigger. Blood blossoms from Flora’s chest. Flowing out across the chest of her dress. She was already dead. He had ensured that much. “no!” He heard himself call as she collapsed backwards, glass shattering behind her as she fell to the ground. Katrielle rushes to her sister Ercule looks through the window, eyes meeting Alfendi’s.

“We have the place surrounded,” someone calls, “come out with your hands up!”

Backup. Of course he’d thought to call for backup, if Al had fought for just a bit longer maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

He couldn’t seem to get his legs to move, instead they gave out from under him and he collapsed to the ground. Staring at the bloodstained carpet, nauseated.

He’d done this.

In this reality, he really was the murderer.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Saving Rosie

Part One of Two: “I’m Not A Spy.”

Rosie Betzer x Reader

Words: 5,768

Warnings: WWII (and everything that comes with that era), Nazis, spy shit, arguing, alludes to execution, sadness... I think that may be it.

Request: No.

Summary: You save the woman you have grown close to over the past few years you have been undercover as a Nazi general, and now you’re going to save her family.

A/N: Me, still broken after watching Jojo Rabbit almost a year and a half ago?? It’s more likely than you think... so, apparently I write Rosie Beltzer fics now lol

Also, just some lil notes. The reader in this is undercover as a male Nazi general, and they’re not actually German in this fic.

EDIT: I accidentally tagged this as a Natasha fic lmao. I fixed it now tho.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

***

"It's a lovely night for it, huh?"

For what? You weren't 

certain. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe, it was the clear sky. The deserted streets, perhaps... what loomed in the following days to come.

Or maybe, just maybe. It was the woman by your side.

The woman hummed, a small sweet smile caressing her face.

"One of the better ones we've had in years. Came her strong German accent. A stark difference to yours, considering you no longer had to mask it. Around her, anyway.

Your smile mirrored hers as it brightened.

"It sure is."

"I can't believe it's almost over. And after so long..." she said, while you grunted, sitting down beside her on the small roof over the open attic window. "This unjust war is finally coming to an end."

"Okay, you're starting to sound like my commander now."

Rosie chuckled at your words, moving to softly lean into your side, keeping her head up to continue looking at the bright white stars that littered the midnight blue sky.

"Why do you always insist on meeting up here?" you grumbled, no malice in your voice, "It's a pain in the ass to get up onto the roof, from the outside, y'know?"

"You're a spy, aren't you? Aren't you supposed to be good at this stuff?"

"Oh cheeky," you laughed, lightly slapping the side of her leg, with the back of your hand. Rosie's quiet giggles following your remark, "And I'm an undercover soldier. Those are two very different things."

"Still." She shrugged.

You sat in silence for a small while. Over the few years, you and Rosie had grown close. Meeting up on her rooftop, at the dead of night, where there was no chance of anyone seeing you together, this way, becoming an almost every day occurrence.

You knew you could trust her the moment you first met, almost three years ago. After you had stolen the identity of a Nazi officer, that looked starkly like you. Luckily, there was hardly any information about this person. So, there was less chance for your cover to be blown.

Soon, the resistance that Rosie had been deeply a part of was un-earthed to you, thanks to your informant and the letter she carried. It wasn't long after that you started working with them too. Helping them better than they could ever hope, thanks to the military resources and information you brought.

"What happened to your neck?" Rosie asked, pulling you out from where you were, deep in your memories.

A hand came up to rub at your slightly sore skin.

"My informant can be cruel..."

Rosie cocked a blonde eyebrow at you, wanting an explanation from you.

You sighed, getting ready to tell her.

***

Eyes burned into the woman from all sides as her heels kicked against the polished wooden, yet stained, floor. Her light brown hair shone under the glowing lights, confidence radiating from her just the same.

"Can I help you?" a German Soldier slid in front of her, she had to stop herself from sneering at the man. For both his being a Nazi and his sweaty stench. But instead, she managed a sultry smirk.

"I'm here to see your General," she replied, in a German accent.

"Don't bother," another Soldier, this one drunk and slightly swaying, called over, from where he was pressed into the wall a few feet behind her.

"I don't think your General would take too kindly to you stealing what they paid for."

"They're gonna have fun with you," he replied, blatantly looking her up and down. Like a wolf would, to a tiny bunny, ready to devour it whole. However, the wolf was not a wolf at all, the wolf was, in fact, the bunny, and the bunny was the actual wolf.

She would tear him to shreds, given the chance.

"The General is in the usual room," the original man said, "Fair warning, though. They're not in a good mood today."

The woman began strutting down the hallway, once again. Throwing, "Aren't they always?" over her shoulder once she passed him by.

When she opened the thick wooden door you resided behind, the sounds of your continued groan began pouring through the crack.

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you got this assignment," she uttered in her original London accent, with her back pressed against the now-closed door.

You finished your groan off and took a deep breath before you uttered your reply.

"Luck-of-the-draw, I guess," you spoke from the floor where you lay on your back, with a shrug, "That, or I look strikingly alike the guy who died. The Nazi prick."

She walked over to you, one foot rising to press her heel into your neck, your thyroid resting in the open space of the shoe.

A choking noise sprang from your mouth as you flailed your limbs around gently. You knew that if she were to press any harder, she would surely manage to choke you.

"You're not suited for this job."

The brunette pressed harder against your throat before she released you. Leaving you to turn on your side, coughing and spluttering.

"Well, no shit. I'm a soldier, not a spy."

"You can tell."

"What was that all about?" You motioned to your neck. Red marks already making their way upon the tender flesh.

"We need to make it seem like we are having sex. Remember? I am supposed to be your hooker after all."

"You're a bitch, is what you are."

She scowled at you as you rolled yourself onto your stomach, sighing when you finally got to your feet.

"Where's the update?"

You hummed, almost as if you were remembering what you were here to do. Removing the crystal tumbler from your lips the whisky sloshing around inside. Reaching behind you, you pulled the file from where it was tucked into your pants and under your shirt. Handing it over to her.

"Is this it?" She asked, weighing the file in her hand, "It's very light."

"Yeah, and so's the information swimming around. Unless you wanna hear about the fish Agatha caught last weekend," you snarked back, moving to point at the file with the same hand that held your glass, "There's some good stuff in there. It's not much. But it's good."

"I'll take your word for it."

She tucked the folder into the long overcoat she wore, then you saw her eyebrows furrow.

"Aren't you supposed to take care of that?" She nodded towards the uniform jacket you had thrown across the room not long after you had entered it.

"You sneered at the fore-talked about item.

"I hate it and everything it stands for." You turned back to face her. "As soon as all of this bullshit is over, I'm burning that fucking armband. And then the rest of the fucking uniform."

"Real calm there, aren't you?"

"Don't start shit with me, Hannah." You took a large swig of your drink, almost emptying the glass. "I know that you wish you had somehow gotten this mission. But trust me, you don't fucking want it. The shit I've seen and done. The stuff that I've had to authorise, just to keep my cover. The fucking horror storied these monsters have told proudly, or as if they're fucking jokes." You were panting now. "You don't want that."

You had her startled into silence. Hannah had never expected this to come from you.

"How's the resistance?"

You grunted. Downing the rest of the brown liquor before moving to pour yourself another glass three fingers tall.

"It's going." you gave a heavy nod. "Still trying to spread the word."

Hannah hummed, slowly making her way towards you. Fingers coming up to razzle her hair, and wipe her lipstick, so it smudged onto her cheek.

"How's the blonde?"

"What-?" you were cut off when she wiped the red lipstick on her fingers across your own lips, leaving a smudge like hers there. "Ugh," you groaned, moving away from her palm, only to utter small obscenities and sounds of pain when her lipstick freehand messed up your short, slicked-back hair.

"What blonde?" you finally managed to ask.

"The one from the resistance. What's her name?" She clicked her fingers together, in realisation, "Rosie."

"Oh! Yeah, she's fine, and so are the kids."

"You seem to be taking a shine to her, from what I hear from the resistance. You and Rosie seem to be something of a dynamic duo."

Suddenly your shirt was ripped open, from the collar to your ribs. Making your eyes widen in shock.

However, you were used to this by now, so they soon returned back to their regular size.

"Yeah, we're friends."

Hannah hummed, something akin to a knowing smirk on her face. As she untucked your shirt.

"I'd keep an eye on her, though."

She opened your pants.

"She's being watched."

Breathless at what she just said, you stood stock still, watching as she walked towards the wooden door.

"Oh." Hannah stopped, her hand upon the handle, pulling some pieces of paper from her pocket and threw them to the floor, "I'll leave you to deliver the bad news."

And with that, she left.

***

You forewent telling Rosie everything from the mention of her.

Thinking it the best if she heard it differently.

"That really sounds like a spy meeting to me," Rosie said with a smirk, knowing it would annoy you to no end.

You closed your eyes before you could roll them into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled, "I'm not a spy."

"So, you've said," she giggled.

"You're drunk," you mumbled to yourself.

"What was that?"

"How are the kids?" you asked, clearly watching as Rosie groaned lightly. Her head down-turned, almost sad looking.

"Jojo's still obsessed with Hitler and everything. And Elsa's doing her best. But I can tell how much this is affecting her. And in what world wouldn't it?"

"She's strong." You nodded. "She'll get through it. We all will."

"And what about Jojo?"

Rosie turned to face you, hair swaying as she did. You could see the glazed look in her eye's, telling yourself to be extra vigilant with the woman upon the roof. You had to make sure she didn't fall off in her drunken state.

"Is he going to be like this for the rest of his life?"

Tears were building in her eyes now.

"Supporting evil dictators, wanting to take over the world, and fill it with hate?"

"No. No, of course not," you whispered. Reaching over, you clasped her cheeks between your rough, war-hardened hands. Wiping away her silent tears. "He's just a boy. A boy who wants to be a part of something, even if he doesn't understand what that is. What monster's he's following. He will realise one day. Trust me."

"I trust you." She nodded. "It just. It's hard. It's so hard. Especially when he plays up, like he did at dinner today."

"He did?"

She hummed with a nod.

"We're low on food right now. I had to go without to feed Elsa. But Jojo, he didn't know, obviously, so he took that too. Then he started arguing about his father-"

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. But luckily for you, she didn't notice your reaction.

"-I yelled at him... we made up not long after, but I still feel awful about it. I'm a terrible mother."

"No, you're not-"

"I am-"

"No. You're not," you said firmly. Grabbing her forearm, gently moving it side to side, to get your point further across, "You're such a caring and amazing person. Your heart is so big and kind. And you're an even better mother. It's like all of that is doubled for those kids."

"Thank you," Rosie whispered, tears in her eyes once again, before she moved to wipe them away.

"Anyway, you're way better than my mother. She abandoned me at a farm. I was lucky a cow didn't shit on me."

She giggled at your little joke.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"There's no need. I wouldn't change it."

Things were quiet for a few minutes when you suddenly remembered.

"Oh!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out three packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. "I guess it was just lucky that I brought these then."

"What are they?"

"Beef sandwiches, I thought you would like them."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she spoke in something close to a moan as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

You gave a small chuckle at the woman seated beside you, "I'd thought you'd say that. I'll have to start bringing food over to these meetings of ours because it's not like I can do it out in the open."

"People would think something was going on between us," Rosie hummed.

"You're right about that. Everyone is so bored around here. Gossip is like their life sauce."

"Would you be surprised if I told you that it was the same before the war?"

"Not at all," you laughed.

Rosie finished her sandwich, and you dreaded what was coming next.

"I need to tell you something," you almost whispered.

She bumped her shoulder against yours when you didn't continue.

"Well? What is it?"

"It... it's about your husband..."

You watched her carefully as you said that, all the while emotions, flew into her while she processed them.

She held back more tears, ones from the look on her face that she had shed more times than she could count. Face contoured into one of concealed pain. Looking away from your gentle, caring eyes while rubbing her hands together.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." You nodded, looking out before you, into the starry night sky.

That's when you felt a tiny jolt beside you. Looking over at the blonde, you watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered.

With a gasp and a wet sniff, Rosie wiped her tears away.

"What happened?"

"There was a raid, some members of a resistance was there, your husband included. None of them made it... they saved the people they intended to, however."

She nodded with a sad yet proud smile.

"How long ago was this?"

You swallowed. Hating the words you were about to say.

"A little over a year ago."

You winced when you heard her sobs, ones being held in so hard just so no one could overhear her cries.

And, sickeningly so, the worst thing of all was that you didn't know how to help her.

Placing a hand upon her back, rubbing small comforting circles into her shoulder. Feeling her lean into you, face now pushed into your neck.

"I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

You left not too long later, after already spending way too much time up on that roof.

Rosie wished you a "goodbye" with the promise that she would be fine. However, she didn't reply to you when you told her not to finish the rest of the wine. That she had been pounding for the majority of the day.

Before you arrived "home" and promptly collapsed onto the bed.

***

The afternoon sun was warm upon your face as you walked the streets of the German town. Watching as children ran around, women worked, and well, gossiped, and Nazi soldiers came and went.

Soon. You thought. This will all be over soon.

That's when you heard the murmured words from the women you had just walked past.

"Yes, the Gestapo. They're here right now."

"Who for?" the other woman asked, voice slightly higher at the aspect of such "juicy" gossip.

Sometimes it surprised you just how detached some of these people were from human lives. But then you took a step back and saw everything that was happening in the world. And you weren't surprised anymore. Just disappointed.

"The traitors wife. Beltzer."

And now you were scared.

"-They should be taking her to the square, right now."

It was like the world had slowed down as you turned to look at them, meeting their curious eyes.

The last thing you heard before taking off at a run towards the town square was a fading, "Like husband, like wife. I guess."

The people you passed by looked at you like you were insane. To see a, what they thought, General, sprinting down streets and panting like crazy, it set them on edge.

But you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought.

You just had to get to the square.

And quick.

***

By the time you got there, you had a light shine over your skin. Thanks to the sweat from both the running you had done and the worry that coursed through you.

"Remove your hands from her," came your faux German accent.

"She is a traitor to the Reich," one of the Gestapo's, seemingly the leader, replied assuredly.

"And what proof do you have of this?"

Rosie was terrified. You could see that as clear as day, no matter how she tried to keep calm. It was written all over her face.

So, you forcefully pushed their hands from the heavily breathing woman and pulling her to stand by your side and away from the group of men dressed in black suits.

"I'll have you know, we have very probable tips from some of the community-"

""Probable"?!" you shouted, causing the on edge woman beside you to jump slightly. To which you pulled her closer to you as a form of comfort. Your hand, coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Yes. Probable. We cannot have risks."

"Well, I say that it is bullshit."

"You have no jurisdiction or authority over our department."

"And I never said I did. I am saying that I vouch for this woman."

"But the tip-off's-" another man began.

"You choose to believe lonely and bored housewives over a General?!" You watched as their faces fell, and they tried to grab onto any straw they could to change your mind.

"There is still a chance-"

"There is no chance!"

"And can you be so sure?!"

"Do you really believe that I, a General, would be with her if you were right?"

"With her?" a third Gestapo asked curiously.

You knew what you had to do to get her back home, safe and away from the men trying to execute and make a spectacle of her. Just like the poor people hanging to your right.

"It means that I have been seeing her. Romantically, if you still do not fully understand, what I mean."

They didn't say anything for a few short moments, only stumbling and stuttering over their own voices.

"So, tell me. Who are you choosing to believe?"

"Uh. Y-You General."

"Good." You nodded once. "Now, I'm going to take her home. Goodbye, gentlemen," you spat. Turning on your heel, with Rosie under your arm, and walking away.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. Not drawing any attention to yourself or Rosie.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied in the same way.

"I wouldn't have done anything else." Your hand slipped down to the blondes dip in her lower back, helping to guide her back home. "Where are the flyers? Did you have any on you?"

"Yes. I threw them down the drain before they could see."

"Good. You did good." A squeeze to her hip before your hand returned to her lower back, just to keep up the appearance of the lie. "They're not gonna find them."

***

Rosie had relaxed more by the time you were at the bottom of her street when you saw a distinctly expensive car parked outside of Rosie's house. A car that everyone knows belongs to that of Gestapo's.

"Is Jojo home?" you asked, just stood there starring at the sight, with Rosie by your side.

"Yes," she husked.

"Shit."

And that's when you both broke out in a run.

You, being faster than Rosie, arrived at the building first. Barging through the door, with her hot on your heels.

Pounding your way up the stairs, only to come face to face with a gang of men, identically dressed to the Gestapo's, you had just saved Rosie from. Along with Jojo and Elsa, in clothes that didn't look like they belonged to her. Not to mention the demoted soldier, holding an identification book.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"What are you doing in my house?!" you and Rosie said at the same time. Your yell angrier, compared to her more so worried one.

"We are searching the premises," the lead man, who wore round glasses, spoke. Face confused as to why Rosie was still alive. But as soon as he saw the anger chiselled upon your face. He could take a successful guess as to who had stopped the execution.

"Mama, they were just checking Inge's identification," Jojo said as his mother rushed towards him. Her hands, on his cheeks, as she checked him over.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Rosie pulled Jojo along to bring Elsa into her side, just as you had done for her mere minutes ago. "Are you both alright?"

She gained words and nods of confirmation from the two children.

"I think it's time that you all left."

"But-" one Gestapo said, looking to Rosie.

"But nothing," you continued, "I'm sure your associates will fill you in on their mistake. Now, if you are finished, I ask that you leave this house."

"We were just about to, anyway," the leader said, leading the way out for everyone. But not before the ID was handed back to the assumed Inge. With you trailing after, to slam the door behind them.

You turned, leaning your back against the wooden door, sighing deeply.

"Are they gone?" Rosie called down, leaning over the railing, to peer down at you.

The stairs creaked below you, the layer of carpet doing nothing to quiet them. You spoke your confirmation, as you reached her, "They're gone."

The kids looked like they had just been caught with their hand's in the cookie jar.

"So..." the caring woman started, "You two know about each other."

They nodded.

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks, at most," Jojo said.

"How did you even find out about her?"

"I-I found the hatch-"

"He crawled in-"

"And I found her-"

"He was terrified."

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Okay, enough," Rosie raised her voice, gaining the bickering children's attention.

Taking a breath, she ran her hands through her soft blonde hair.

"And you never told anyone?"

"No." Jojo shook his head. "I didn't want you to get into trouble..." It was at that point, he realised you were silently stood behind his mother, watching as everything unfolded and who you were.

Rosie caught this and looked over her shoulder at you.

"Don't worry," she told both of the kids, crouching down before them. Elsa's face one of mild terror.

This is when it hit you that these kids were exactly that.

Kids.

Kid's that were too scared of their mothers, or motherly figure, scolding them, than the actual, apparent danger that lurked not too far away.

"They're not going to tell anybody. They know. And won't let anything happen. To any of us." she manoeuvred to face you. "Right?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. I will do my best to protect all of you."

"Speaking of." She slowly rose to her feet, walking towards you.

The hand that Rosie placed upon your arm was gentle, almost like she was worried she would hurt you. Fingers curling into the jacket of the uniform you loathed.

"I have to speak with the General. So, you two stay up here. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Good." She pulled you through the open door, but before she could close it fully, her head popped through the door, "Oh. And we're not done yet. We still have a lot to talk about."

Then the door clicked shut.

"You're really good at that."

"What?"

"Being a mother."

"I know. You've told me before."

***

Things had changed rather quickly when you arrived downstairs.

Sat upon the blue cotton cushions of the wooden framed couch. Watching as Rosie paced around in front of you, fingertips rubbing against her full lips, worry etched across her face.

Your eyebrows shot up, and your body straightened when she turned to face you. Arms now down by her sides.

"So, we're together, huh?"

"I'm sorry," you replied, German accent dropped, "But that was the only thing that would get them to back off and drop the suspicions against you."

"I know." She nodded, completely understanding. Before her minimal composure dropped, and the worry came back. "What do we do? Jojo obviously thinks you are a traitor now. What if he tells someone?"

"He won't." You stood abruptly, taking Rosie's shoulder's into your hands, squeezing them gently. "He didn't tell anyone about Elsa when he had so many chances to do so. Hell, he had the chance, not even five minutes ago. But he hasn't said a word, purely just to keep you safe... he doesn't understand that this could hurt him and Elsa too. He doesn't know what's happening."

"But this is different-"

"Yes, it is different. It's better he thinks I'm a traitor, helping his family, than him knowing I'm an undercover soldier."

"You mean a spy?"

"Don't you start with that shit." You pointed at her playfully.

Rosie's smile dropped when a thought popped into her mind.

"Do you think they will still come back?"

"It is possible," you said honestly, "Which is why we should leave as soon as we possibly can."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

"What do I tell the kids- What do I tell Jojo?" she clarified.

"The truth. You tell them that they could come back and that we all need to leave because we could all be in danger."

With her head in her hand's, the blonde scoffed tearily, "God. This fucking war."

"I know. I know."

You pulled her into your chest, letting her cry into you. Arms wound around your torso tightly.

"I hate it, For so many reasons."

"I know," you repeated again, "I feel the same."

"When will it just end? When will people be safe again?"

Deciding that it would be best to tell her the truth, you said, "I don't know. Soon I hope."

And there you sat, for a small while longer, allowing the blonde to cry into your chest.

***

You had left.

Gone to go gather some of your things, thinking it best to stay with Rosie and the kids while you were forced to stay in town.

All the while Rosie, spoke to the kids about leaving.

"I don't understand why we have to go!"

Was what you were greeted with as you entered the home.

"Because it is not safe for us here anymore," Rosie's voice came, calm but firm.

"But they won't come back."

"That's not entirely true," you spoke, entering the kitchen. Placing the leather bag you carried and the wicker basket upon the small table against the wall, you continued, "There's always a chance, no matter how small."

The young boy watched you silently for a minute. Not knowing what to say.

"Trust me, Jojo. I know how all of this works. I just want to keep you all safe, so does your mother. And this is the best way to do it.2

Jojo sighed.

"Where will we go?"

Rosie looked at you intently when her son asked this, wondering the same thing.

"We'll get out of town first. Then we'll focus on a safe place for us all to go."

"Jojo, would you. Would you go to your room, please?" Rosie asked, "I need to speak with the General, alone."

Just as the blonde boy was about to protest, he was cut off.

"Now. I also have to start preparing dinner."

He huffed and walked from the room, bounding up the stairs rather loudly.

You felt bad for the woman as you watched her grip the sides of the oven, bow her head, and give a great sigh.

"Where's Elsa?"

"She's in her hiding spot." Then she turned to face you. "Y/N, K know that Elsa isn't Inge."

"What?"

"She got Inge's birthday wrong, and he didn't say anything."

Your eye's wandered as you took in the information that was just given to you.

"Do you think he will say anything?"

"I don't know," you said with a shrug, "But I don't wanna take any chances. It's too risky."

"I agree." Rosie nodded once. "So, when do we leave."

"As soon as possible. Tonight if we can. Only pack the essentials. And not yet, we can't raise any suspicions."

Rosie's only reply and indication that she had heard you were a good few nods.

And then.

"What's in the basket?"

"Oh," you said chipperly, "Don't worry about cooking. I brought dinner."

***

Turns out "tonight" wasn't a viable option for skipping town, as with loud, almost deafening sirens of dread filled the sky came the air-raid strike.

"Wouldn't it give us a good cover, though?" Rosie had asked, preparing for bed.

You had resigned yourself to staying over, as a sort of bodyguard, while still in town. And the threat was still very much weighing in the winds.

You looked over your shoulder at her. Being spotted by her through the mirror of her vanity, where she sat. Removing her makeup and then applying some face cream.

"I'm not the only one by a window," you told her. Then moved to peer through the window, at the moving lights in the black, midnight sky. "I'm sure I heard Elsa and Jojo in the attic watching them."

"They are," she confirmed.

"See. We're not the only ones. Too many eyes. A good distraction," you admitted, "But almost impossible. And with two kids added to that? No chance."

A hum came from Rosie.

"So, what are our options?"

With a sigh, you began explaining, "People will be too jumpy tomorrow, so our best bet would be the day after."

The blonde, now ready for bed, came over to you. Moving to stand right in front of you, looking out the window herself.

"Wouldn't it be too risky, staying here that long?"

It seemed it was your turn to hum, shrugging your shoulders.

"I'd rather stay here a few more days than risk it out there. But there is a good side to these change of plans."

"And what's that?"

"Now, we can sneak stuff to the car. And won't risk being caught doing it all at night. That way, all we have to do is get in, then drive off."

"Good plan. Partner," Rosie spoke in a slight mocking about sultry tone. Which only made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're welcome."

"Seriously," you halted at Rosie's serious tone, raising your head to peer at her, "Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me." Your lips ticked up in a small smile before you lightened the sober mood and atmosphere. "And you definitely won't be thanking me if I accidentally kick you in my sleep."

Rosie laughed at your words, watching as you said into bed beside her.

"Do not worry. If you kick me, I'll just kick you out of the bed."

"Now that's just rude."

Waking up the next morning was strange for you, to say the least.

With the bright sun shining through the thin drapes, across the cosy room, and onto the bed. Duvet lumpy above your forms.

And then there was Rosie.

The blonde pressed up against your side, head resting on your shoulder, arms curled around one of yours, still fast asleep.

Now that.

That was very unusual for you.

But then again. You were too sleepy to process anything at that moment. So instead, you just watched her breathe soothingly, looking so peaceful by your side, with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in curiosity.

It was a wonder how someone could look so contest face asleep like Rosie was, with everything that is going on in the world.

The world wouldn't be that way for much longer, you thought, it was only a matter of time before everything was over.

And the same thing could be said for the blonde sleeping by your side.

The wooden door barged open, alerting you fully awake, as Jojo strutted in. Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you. In bed. With his mother.

You could see the slight anger in his eyes, purely out of protection for his beloved mother.

"Good morning, Jojo," Rosie said sleepily as she moved to sit up, looking at the boy with a sleepy smile.

You grunted as she pressed her palm into your abdomen to raise up into a seated position.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, nodding his head towards you.

Rosie looked over her shoulder at you, tired eyes evaluating you. Before she turned back to her son.

"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."

You watched the mother and child with slightly wide eyes, not uttering a word, just looking like you wanted to escape this situation.

"What did you forget?"

"The General here-" she patted your abdomen where her hand still resided. "-And I, are seeing each other."

It was a few good long moments as Jojo processed the words. You thought he was going to be angry. It would be natural. You would understand. He was a young boy, one who undoubtedly missed his father and would not be happy with his mother being with anyone else.

But you also had to understand that he idolised you, if only for your -albeit fake- position in the German military.

And yet, you were still surprised and confused by what he said next.

"A lion?"

Rosie smiled brightly, nodding her head, "A lion."

"A lion?"

That was the first thing you said that morning, and it was full of confusion.

But it fell on deaf ears.

Jojo nodded once at his mother before turning on his heel and walking from the room, without saying what he initially came in for.

"What?"

Rosie smiled at you.

"Come on, we should get moving."

The bed shook and bounced as she got up from the bed, preparing to get ready for the day.

"I'm so confused," you almost whimpered, only gaining a soft giggle in return.

***

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

(I didn’t know if you guys wanted to be tagged in this, but...)

[mandoalorian]

Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.

Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx

MASTERLIST | Submit your requests HERE

•••

Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.

Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.

“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.

Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.

There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?

You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.

Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.

“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”

“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.

“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.

“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”

“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.

“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.

“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.

“And then what happened?”

“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.

“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.

“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.

“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”

You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”

This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.

“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.

“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”

And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?

The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.

He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.

Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.

You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.

When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.

“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.

Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.

You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”

“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.

“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.

“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.

As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.

“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.

“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.

“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.

“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.

Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.

“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.

“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.

“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.

You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.

The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.

He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.

Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.

“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.

“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.

You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.

You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.

You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.

“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.

“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”

Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie��s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.

“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.

You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.

“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”

You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.

He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.

“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.

You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.

“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”

Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.

This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.”  You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”

For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.

“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.

“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.

“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.

“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”

The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.

“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.

“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.

“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”

“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.

“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”

“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.

“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.

You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.

“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”

“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.

“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.

“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”

“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”

“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.

Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.

“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.

“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.

“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.

“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader: Here to Stay a Little Longer

Author’s Note: In this fic, reader is a jedi who volunteers to care for an educate younglings in the order. Just wanted to say I know a few teachers and caretakers, and I just wanted to say the amount of respect I have for people who dedicate their time to little ones whether it be for a job or because their your own little ones!

    “Good work today.” 

    There was no stopping the affectionate smile that bloomed on your face as the youngling chirped in response to your affirmation.  You could sense his happiness at the lesson being over for the day.  He wanted to take a nap.

   “Me too, Grogu,” you sighed.  “Me too.”  He waddled over to you, and you lifted him into your arms.  Another jedi would be coming to take him back to the nursery for rest. 

   “___________?” a voice asked.

   “Hm?” you turned to see an elderly female jedi at the doorway to the training room.  “Oh, jedi Lilanou.  You are here to take Grogu back to his quarters?”

   “Yes, indeed,” she said with a smile, outstretching her hands.  They were weathered but ever so gentle as you transferred the tired baby to them.  He waved at you, and you laughed and waved back.  “Grogu will see you later this week for another training session.”

   “I will be expecting him.”  You nodded.  Grogu wasn’t quite like the other younglings.  He was more developed mentally for one so small, and he was much older than the others.  This meant he started training, but only a little since he was still a baby.  As Lilanou carried him away, you felt sadness creep its way into your feelings.  No doubt your attachment to the young one went beyond what it should.  You felt that way about most of the younglings you volunteered to look after and train before they became padawans and were assigned to mentors.  It was hard to let go when that time came, but the need for jedi to step up and help the next generation of younglings drew you in again and again.

   With the absence of Grogu, your afternoon was free.  The rumble in your stomach told you it was time for a meal.  You released a sigh and stepped out of the empty room into the vast halls.  Jedi walked to and fro, some in pairs while others had their noses in datapads.

   The sound of children’s laughter weighed your steps until you stopped altogether.  It was a collective laugh as if it was one shared by an entire class.  You started back on your way again before it rang out once more.  It was indeed a class that occupied one of the nearest training rooms, and from where you stood outside the doorway, you could hear Yoda’s voice instructing.

   “I’ll just stop in for a minute,” you said, grinning.  “Lunch can wait.”  As you approached, Yoda paused the lesson to meet your gaze.  As he greeted you, the younglings that were all seated in a semi-circle turned their heads to look in your direction.  Their faces lit up in recognition.

   “Ah, _________, how nice it is to see you,” Yoda said.  “Younglings, say ‘hello.’”

   “Hello!” they chorused.

   “Hello everyone!” you gave a nod of greeting before turning your gaze back to Yoda.  “I was just wondering if I could sit in on class today?  And maybe help if you need any assistance?”  It felt like a silly question to ask.  He was Yoda.  He’d been training many generations of younglings since long before you were born.  Nonetheless, his features softened as he motioned with his hand for you to enter.

   “Needing a lesson to refresh your memory, are you?” he joked in a good-natured way.  You chuckled as you took a seat on the far right of the semi-circle.

   “Something like that.”

   “Good, your timing is.”  He nodded.  “Discussing the process of constructing lightsabers, we are.  Perhaps, share with the class your experience, you could.”

   “That’s right,” you mused.  “Many of you are nearing that time.  Oh, yes Ganodi?”

   The Rodian girl lowered her hand, galaxy eyes averted shyly for a moment.  “Was it hard to build your lightsaber?”

   “It was a challenge,” you admitted.  “But it wasn’t meant to be easy.”  When you noticed her nervous expression, you added, “I’m sure you will do well.”

   “I’m excited to build mine!”  Petro exclaimed.  “I can’t wait!”

   “All in good time,” Yoda told the enthusiastic youngling.  “Anyway, back to our lesson, we should get....”

- - - - - - 

   After the class had been dismissed by Yoda, some of the younglings stuck around to talk.  Yoda walked over to you.  “Thank you for your help today.  Warms my heart, it does, to see your compassion and willingness to nurture the next generation of jedi.”

   You smiled.  “It warms my heart to see them so eager to learn.”

   After he left, you found yourself in the middle of a game of tag with the younglings in the classroom.  Katooni was “it”, and the rest of the group scattered.  She was fast for a youngling!  You raced past Byph, and he got tagged instead.

   “Sorry, Byph!”

   You were so captivated by the game that you hadn’t noticed a new presence.  “I thought I’d find you here.”  You skidded to a stop, looking over to see Obi-Wan Kenobi standing at the doorway.  Your heart did flips at the sight of that smirk of his while he stood there with his arms folded across his chest.  He had left on a campaign weeks before, and his return to Coruscant was a surprise to you.

   You turned to the group, who didn’t seem to notice him.  “Give me one second, guys.”  They continued to run around, and you walked over to the jedi, out of breath.  “It’s good to see you.  How are things on the front?”

   “Well, we were successful,” he replied.  That smooth voice was like music to your ears.  As you listened to him describe the gist of the mission, your mind wandered to silly little things like his velvety hair that shone in the light or his soft blue eyes or the way his lip quirked when he spoke.  It was just so nice to see him, to be able to take it in that he was there.

   “Sounds like an interesting time.”

   “Oh, no.  Not interesting in the least,” he said sarcastically, the shine of amusement in his eyes.  “How have things been here?”

   “Same as ever.”  You smiled and nodded in the direction of the younglings playing their game.  “These ones keep me occupied.  It’s not fighting Separatist battle droids, but…”

   “It’s an important duty.  I can hardly think of a more noble endeavor,” he told you, eyes looking distant and warm as the younglings’ laughter carried.  “I myself hope to dedicate more time to the cause.  I haven’t been as involved as I’d like to be.”

   “Well, we could always use the help.  Besides, you have become a sort of legend around here.”

   Obi-Wan’s brow lifted curiously.  “Is that so?”

   “It is, and you have Anakin to thank for that.  He stops by every now and then and shares a story or two about his and your adventures on the battlefield.”

   “That sounds like Anakin,” he sighed.

   “He’s an inspiration to the younglings, as are you,” you paused.  “To me as well.”

   “Obi-Wan!”

  “Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan!”

   The group began to gather around the two of you, their eyes wide with admiration and curiosity.

   “Well hello there,” he said.  “I was beginning to think I’d gone unnoticed.”

   “Where’d you go? Did you fight Grievous?” Petro’s questions poured out quickly.

   “Was Anakin there?” Zatt asked, tipping his head to one side.  “He said he was going on a mission too.”

   “Alright, alright,” you laughed.  “Let’s not overwhelm him.”

   “I’ll tell you all about the mission another time,” Obi-Wan assured them.  “For now, you might want to run.”

   “What?  Why?”

   “Because it looks like Byph is still ‘it,’ and he’s sneaking up behind you.”

   “Ahhh!”  They burst into laughter and screams as they scattered once more, leaving you and Obi-Wan chuckling.  One of the smaller younglings fell down in front of him.  He simply took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet.

   “Careful, little one.”  His warning was tender, and you watched the scene with heart thumping.  Obi-Wan was always good with younglings.  His kindly nature and humility made him quite popular. 

   He’d make a good parent, you thought.  Realizing where your mind was taking you, you shook your head.  That was hardly appropriate for one to think about a fellow jedi.  Romantic feelings were normal, but these were driving you to imagine a life with him outside the order.  You imagined a loving man with whom you could have your own children with.  The way he was gazing at you made you feel embarrassed, as if he sensed your thoughts.

   “___________?”

   “Yeah?”

   “Are you hungry?”

   You glanced down at your stomach as it gave another rumble.  Ah, right.  You skipped out on lunch to join the youngling class.  How embarrassing he heard that!  “Uh yeah, I missed lunch.”

   “I’m rather hungry myself,” he said.  “Shall we go get something together?”

   You nodded, smiling.  “We shall.”  You looked at the younglings.  “I’ll see you all soon.”

   “Okay, bye ___________!”

   “Bye Obi-Wan!”

   They headed out the door, their chatter echoing down the hall.  You walked alongside Obi-Wan on your way to get something to eat.  He was always pleasant company.  He walked with his hands folded behind his back and his gaze occasionally resting on you.  You had longed to see him again, but when the moment was finally there, you weren’t quite sure what to say.  Finally, you thought of something.

   “Did you need me for something?”

   “Pardon?”

   “You said you might find me there with the younglings,” you said.  “Does that mean you were looking for me?” 

   He opened his mouth as if he had a clever response, but his voice came out in a subtle stutter before he found the words. “I thought I’d pay you a visit since I arrived back on Coruscant.  I merely...wanted to see you.”

   “Oh, I see.”

   “Is that a problem?” The question wasn’t irritated.  His eyes searched you with genuine concern.  He had made it known that he sought you out for no reason in particular other than his enjoyment of your company, and he didn’t want this knowledge to make you uncomfortable.

   “No, no, not at all.”  You shook your head.  “I’m glad you did.  I’m pleased to see you.  It was only a few weeks, but it felt like so long.”  You went silent after that statement, unsure if you crossed a line either.  You were supposed to be a jedi free from attachment, and the last thing you wanted was Obi-Wan Kenobi to think you were needy.

   “I know exactly what you mean,” he muttered in agreement.  His eyes went to the floor in a way that suggested he had something on his mind.  The implication that he may have missed you too made you want to hide your face shyly, but you remained nonchalant.

   “When do you leave Coruscant again?”

   “Not for some time, I hope.  Like I said, I’d like to be more involved with training the next generation for a while.”  He glanced your way, eyes crinkling as he smiled.  “But my apologies, that means you’ll have to see more of me.  I know how much of a burden I am.”

   “Indeed.”  You returned the smile.  “How terrible.”

   The warmth between you two was unmistakable during the playful banter.  Part of you was thrilled that he would be around, that you wouldn’t have to say “goodbye” for a while.  The other part was worried what it might bring upon both of you.  If the two of you spent more time together with the younglings, it would do you no good as far as dismissing the attachment you had to him.  And what of the Council?  Would they take notice?

   Obi-Wan sat across from you at one of the long dining tables, and those doubts one-by-one went out the viewport.  He spoke about his mission away and then listened as you told him about some of your adventures on Coruscant.  Some involved your travels outside the jedi walls while others were about your daily struggles and victories with the little ones.  You told him of a youngling still in the nursery that ran off without their robes that you had to chase down and dress.  Fortunately the nursing droids had proper security so the youngling didn’t leave the nursery.  Obi-Wan’ laughter rang out clear as a bell as he tipped his head back at the outrageous tale.  Something fluttered in your chest as he lost himself in the humor for a moment before taking a breath and sighing.

   “Well it seems I have much to look forward to,” he chuckled.  “I recall once you said you wished you had some war stories to share, but it seems you do now.”

   “Some days it is a battle,” you agreed.

   “Believe me, I know.”  He gazed at you then, that glint in his eyes as he smiled tenderly.  You found yourself unable to look away.  It was like a magnet pulling you to him, and if there weren’t a table separating you, you might have even leaned in for a kiss.  It was like electricity crackling between you, and you had to force yourself to glance down at your now-empty tray.  The time working with Obi-Wan again would be interesting.  Even after only a few hours together, you felt that same pull that you fought for years.  You wondered how long you could go without giving in.  You wondered if he felt it as strongly as you did.  By the look flashing in his eyes as you leaned in ever so slightly to scoot out of your seat, you figured he might.

   An interesting time indeed. 

[ultimatetornshipper]

To bee or not to bee - a Jasonette fic

@moonlitceleste I almost let this die, I honestly really wanted it dead but alas it was clearly meant to bee 

(WARNING: contains puns, angst, crack and fluff. You have been warned)

If you don’t want to read my sarcastic/funny/fangirl commentary, skip the brackets

I have another bee movie au, i didn't plan it ("I don't claim to be proud. But my head won't be hung in shame. I didn't plan it. But the light turned red, and I ran it. And I'm still standing. It's not what I wanted, but now that it's right here. I understand it. A story written by my own hand" as quoted from Waitress), it just happened and i just couldn't resist. I'm not sorry

So what if instead of dying Joker turned Jason into a bee. Because Harley convinced him and told him that people were talking shit about him because he's named the Joker and they don't think he's funny. It surprisingly works. (Obviously Harley was the one who made the plan and did the magic I mean really what do u expect of Joker?)

Ok so now Jason’s a bee right? And he’s like 15 because .~:°*plot*°:~.

They look for him and Jason’s like flying around like, “Guys! Guys I’m right here!” Poor kid. (I mean I would make it funny but like angst)

Obviously they don’t understand him because he’s a fucking bee and Joker cackles madly and Harley laughs too but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and it's kinda that laugh u do when ur supes overwhelmed and sound maniacal but like soft (I’m a simp for Harley being portrayed as the complex and beautiful character she id leave me be)

Jason is very sad. And also quite pissed

Not knowing what else to do he follows Batman home, he listens to them trying to find him, watches Dick freak out and Alfred wipe a tear the rest of the family doesn’t see.

Jason tries to approach Alfred, hoping he somehow recognizes what happened

He doesn’t, Alfred closes him in a glass and paper and takes him outside.

He sneaks back into the manor and sleeps in one of the flowers (it's a red tulip because aesthetic) next to his bed. He cries himself to sleep. (Can bees cry? Is this possible? Is this like a thing??? I don't need sleep i need answers)

The thing is even tho he's now a bee, he still has the durability of a human, so even stepping on him won’t crush him and he still has a human lifespan

Because Harley isn’t a monster and what Puddin didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. (Simping for Harley Quinn strike 2)

After a while at the manor and following them he decides he can’t stand it anymore. Alfred has thrown him out three times and Dick freaks out each time he sees him as he’s a tad allergic (read: he would die if stung)

Which is how Jason found out that getting hit with a newspaper wouldn’t kill him.

He leaves.

He’s a bee and it’s not like he knows about a way to reverse it.

But there was someone who might.

He goes to Arkham.

Luckily, Harley was still there. (YAY we get to see mah gurl)

He flies into her cell and she just watches him, then she seems to click. She gives him a small smile, “Hi birdie,” (she puns, honestly would make for a better clown of Gotham and I saw an idea for that once where she steals Joker’s title once and I’ve been yearning for it ever since)

She holds out a finger and he lands on it, she laughs but tears come to her eyes,” Hey at least you’re not dead. That was his original plan you know? To kill you with a crowbar. I convinced him this would be a cruller fate. I guess maybe it is, but at least this way... Ugh how the hell did I get here,” (Harley angst, honestly it’s all just self service at this point)

He simply stared at her as she cried, and he felt his heart clench. From here she looked so sad... not crazy, just broken.

She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “Look kid, there’s a way to get you back to normal, you just need to find someone, they’re called the Guardian of the Miraculous. They can help, I don’t know who or where they are, just follow your instincts. And come say hi when you get back, yeah? I could do with the... healthier company. And remember, I bee-lieve in you,” (Gasp what a shock, you mean to tell me Miraculous magic is gonna be involved in this Maribat au. Well I never what a shock. Also puns. Oh and she’s so nice to him. We love Harley in this house)

He sat there and studied her for a while more, there was more to her than it seemed. Than what he’d assumed.

But for now, he had his own problems to deal with.

She gave him a small wave as he left. (Adorable)

He left and started considering his options, as a bee, it would probably be safest to stay inside, away from birds and things that would view him as a snack.

Staying in Arkham seemed like his best option, as bad an option as it was.

Most of the prisoners wouldn’t have a second thought about trying to crush him.

A strong scent of flowers and plants suddenly came to his attention.

Of course! Poison Ivy. (Round 2 of me simping for beautiful, complex, badass women. Too bad Catwoman ain’t here.)

He followed the smell to her cell and saw her staring out of her small window. He was still taking a chance, but she loved plants and flowers and bees were important to those, weren’t they?

He flew to the window bars and sat on one. The moment she spotted him she smiled widely, in a soft way he hadn’t seen on her before. (Ahhhhh my darling plant redhead. I love writing the Sirens as soft badasses. Also has anyone noticed how rare brunettes are in superhero worlds? Like both in Marvel and DC but like irl brown is like a pretty damn common)

She held out her finger, “Hey there, little guy. A little far from home, aren’t we?”

She had no idea.

He landed on her fingertip and watched in awe as a flower and a few leaves formed on her hand. She let the flower grow itself around one of her window bars and held her finger next to one of the petals.

“There you go, it’s all I can manage with my power dampers. I haven’t had company in a while,” she said softly as he crawled into the flower. He made himself comfortable.

She laughed to herself and he saw her shaking her head, “Talking to a bee, well, I guess stranger things have happened,” (yeah ur crush is dating a green haired murderous psychopath and you get beat up by a billionaire in a batsuit on like a biweekly basis)

The flower was soft and warm and felt safer than he expected it to. He found that he could move between the petals but decided to curl up in the middle. (It's a pink rose this time because fuck yeah flowers)

He slept better than he had in days.

The next morning he took his leave, stopping only at the manor to say a mental goodbye.

Then he headed off.

Jason flew a lot the first few months, our boy was smart at least, travelling with a cruise ship on its way to Europe.

It was Spring in the Northern Hemisphere so he had until Autumn until it was in his best interest to head south to avoid the snow. He decided to head towards Africa when summer started coming to an end. (I have no reasoning for this, just that I want to)

His first spot would be the United Kingdom. Then he'd go through the rest of Europe following his instincts.

At least it was Spring.

Jason diligently searched through England, Scotland and Ireland but found nothing.

By the time he was done he realized it was time to start heading South. He’d decided to take another cruise to South-Africa, where it would be summer, he searched through the country until April. He would admit that he didn’t feel drawn to anything in any of their 9 provinces so his search wasn’t as diligent as in England. He didn’t feel anymore drawn to the neighbouring countries like Namibia or Botswana either.

(Once again no reasoning for why I picked these countries, I mean the French Hugonotes went there when they were fleeing from the French Catholics who wanted them dead so I guess I could make up some bullshit about Mari having an ancestor in common with someone there or maybe it was just the ship he could easiest get access I don’t know, you make something up)

Which was why he decided to go back to Europe as soon as April hit.

He hitched another ride on a cruise headed for France.

It’s been a year since he got turned into a damn bee.

He was sixteen now and while he’d seen some amazing things all through South-Africa (a place that proves that humans really do have a weirdly obvious way of naming things I mean the Amazon river and Chad Lake are just more examples really) as well as the United Kingdom, all he really wanted was to go back home, to be human again.

When he gets there he diligently makes his way through France, eventually arriving in Paris.

He lands on the tip top of the Eiffel Tower. As in the point of the antenna because why not.

During his year he realized that birds and other animals tended to avoid him, sensing his strangeness so that was at least one positive.

He stared out over the city. Well, the one good thing about this was definitely the views he’s been allowed to see.

That was until a massive explosion hit.

“What the fuck?” he said out loud, searching for the source. No one understood him, human or bee, but talking to himself reminded him of his humanity.

He found the source of the explosion but just as he started flying to its general direction, a blinding white light shone followed by a horde of ladybugs that were fixing everything that was wrong. (Imagine how scary this would lowkey be irl tho? Just a shit ton of Ladybugs descending on Paris my dude)

He decided that he needed a night’s sleep before he could even begin an attempt at deciphering what had just happened. He flew lower, finding a nice little balcony right above a bakery. And it had flowers. (I’ll give u five seconds to guess who this balcony belongs to)

He flew down, exploring.

He turned around when he heard a loud thump from behind him. What appeared to be a super heroine in red spandex with black spots had landed on the balcony.

She detransformed and started to talking to a floating bug- fairy thing. Strange. Though it wasn’t like he could judge, as an ex superhero sidekick who was thought to be dead but was actually a bee.

She disappeared down her trapdoor and he made himself comfortable in one of her flowers.

He slept soundly until somewhere during a night another thump woke him. He looked out of his sleeping spot to see a cat superhero stand on her balcony. He leaned down and knocked on her small trapdoor.

Ah, a teammate of hers, they were probably meeting about something, he thought as he heard her open up.

It didn’t take him long to realize that even though they were teammates, the cat, Chat Noir he later learned, was not aware of this fact.

Oh this was rich.

He couldn’t bee-lieve his eyes. (ok so Jason used self-referential puns but can you really blame him? It’s really just me and my pun problem so don’t blame the kid)

He was going on and on about his feelings for Ladybug, the girl’s hero form, that were clashing with his feelings for another girl he fenced with, while she listened, clearly fed up with it.

He also claimed that he thought that maybe they were one and the same. Which, to Jason, was hilarious as he was literally saying this to the actual Ladybug’s face.

Marinette- he learned from the Cat’s ongoing blabbering, he was a real blab-bee mouth, - was clearly tired, nodding half asleep, probably having heard it all before.

When he finally left Jason went to sleep again, incredibly amused and even more thankful that he was fluent in French. ( u think this is plot convenience? Just u wait mah dude iz about to get worse)

The next morning he decided to follow her to school. Which was how he learned of her huge crush on a boy named Adrien Agreste.

After learning the boy could fence thanks to Marinette’s obsession interest in him, he got suspicious.

Could it really bee? (not a typo)

After seeing the boy transform a month or two later for patrol he laughed like he hadn’t for over a year. It very much was. He'd spent the time staying on Marinette's balcony and decided to stay another week before moving on and continuing his search, after all, he couldn't stop now that he finally felt like he was getting close.

The next day she got home crying, claiming that Adrien had started dating someone else.

Kagami, she called the girl. Probably the fencer if he had to place a bet.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki told the girl.

“That boy's an idiot,” he said, speaking his mind, another thing he’d gotten use to being allowed to do without consequence.

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin, she looked around and he realized that she could hear him. He hadn’t really spoken too much before, at least not when she was around. He was usually content with watching her do whatever she was doing that day.

“Tikki, did you hear that?” she asked, Tikki nodded, her eyes landing on him.

“Oh,” the kwami said softly, flying over to him, “Oh, you poor thing, who did this to you?” (Tikki is the first ever mom friend and u can fight me on this)

He stared up at her, flying so that they were eye level.

Marinette gaped at them, heartbreak seemingly forgotten, “Tik- Tikki, are- who are you talking- are you talking to a – Tikki is that a bee?!” she finally spluttered out.

“No,” Tikki said, studying him, he felt his heart twist in hope and his stomach roll in surprise. Did she know?

“I mean yes, but no. He’s a boy whose been turned into a bee,” Tikki explained, turning back to Marinette.

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, turning to him. She held her hand out and after some hesitation he landed on her finger. She looked at him then back to Tikki.

How did they know? Would he really be that lucky? Was this real?

“Uhm, how?” she said, staring at him in disbelief. He tried shrugging but realized he couldn’t anymore- beecause of his- well if you haven’t caught on to the fact that he’s a bee by now you should really start from the beginning of this story.

“I don’t know, but Joker and Harley Quinn were involved,” he said.

Marinette stared at him in disbelief, blinking a few times. She sat in shock a few moments longer. (Our darling is an awkward lil bean, and while in media awkward is portrayed as cute, irl it isn’t, it’s just well… awkward. And we’re writing a serious and realistic fic about this sidekick of guy who wears a batsuit/billionaire's ward getting turned into a bee and falling in love with a magical girl fighting a butterfly man- none of this unrealistic nonsense)

Tikki flew over and sat on Marinette’s shoulder while her holder processed the information, the kwami stared at him sweetly, “What’s your name?”

He swallowed, he hadn’t said his name in ages, it stirred up something (emotion, it’s called emotion, Jason, you know? The thing Batman can’t process??) in him, “Jason Todd,”

Marinette seemed to finally snap out of her daze, “That sounds American. Are you American? Wait if Joker and Harley are involved then you’re probably from Gotham. Are you? Wait I’ve seen the name Jason Todd somewhere. Weren’t you some rich guy’s ward? It was all over the news last year, Alya wouldn’t stop talking about it for a month, she had a million theories. He was – you were announced dead two months after Robin was taken captive by Joker, everyone thought he was – you were killed. Joker made outrageous claims as they arrested him... saying that they’d never find Robin... that he’d all but disappeared in thin air... that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing stripes... I remember because he put a really weird emphasis on the words be and stripes and...,” her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at him in what could only be described as pure shock. (Yes this happens, people can talk for this long and since I personally know headcannon that Marinette is ADHD this long ass paragraph is just another Tuesday bud)

He sat there, surprised that she figured it all out so quickly. (yeah bub it’s called plot convenience and it’s because of me, the writer, I don’t wanna focus on secret ID shenanigans, I got other plans for yall, also Mari is smart, don’t underestimate her)

“You’re Robin,” she breathed, “they turned you into a bee. Wait- How the hell did they turn you into a bee?!”

He chuckled, “Bee-lieve me I’ve been asking myself that question for more than a year,”

She bit her lip, seemingly contemplating his words and ignoring his pun, “Tikki do you know anything that could help? Do you think Miraculous magic-,”

He felt his heart stop, he flew up to her face, flying at eye level, “Wait, did you just say Miraculous? Harley said if I could find the Guardian of the miraculous, they could help me, do you know where they are? I’ve been looking for so long,” (‘°;~*.plot convenience.*~;°’)

Marinette blinked at him and Tikki's face dawned with realization.

“I’m the guardian of the miraculous,” Marinette said softly, “Tikki, that means I can help him, right?”

Tikki nodded and he had to dial down the hope in his heart because the look on her face told him there was a Kim Kardashian sized butt on the way.

“We can help him, but we’re gonna have to wait. (don’t look at me like that, do u want them to have time to bond or not?) You’re not trained enough to pull it off yet. If you were to do it now, all three of us would be out of commission for far too long, especially with Hawkmoth on the prowl,” Tikki said.

They must’ve been able to sense his sadness because they were staring at him with an incredible amount of pity. The amount was quite unsettling actually and he suddenly felt a primal like urge to pun. (An extract from my book: “My unhealthy coping mechanisms and how to use them,” specifically Chapter 8: “Humor hides the pain”)

Suddenly Tikki’s face lit up, the whiplash of her expression change throwing any notion of punning out the window.

“Well, there’s one thing we could do,” she said, excitedly, zipping buzzing around “If he wears a miraculous, he'll return back to human form while transformed,”

Marinette perked up at the idea, but confusion soon overtook her features, “But Tikki, most of the miraculous are bigger than he is,”

Tikki waved her away,” It’s fine it’ll work,”

“Ok,” Marinette said after a bit of thought. She stood and he followed while she started climbing down her skylight,” I’m thinking you can try each of them out for different patrols and then we’ll see which one matches you best. This could be fun, having some fun sized company while figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth,”

He laughed, flying near her ear, “Fun sized, huh? I’ll have you know I’m considered tall in human form, unlike some of us,”

She laughed and rolled her still tear stained eyes, and so, the beginning of a bee-autiful friendship bloomed.

Marinette walked to her closet and Jason took in her room. It was very pink, but in a well-balanced way - it wasn’t completely overbearing. His eye caught on a few pictures of Adrien Agreste on her wall but figured now wouldn’t be a great time to bring it up. (Look he’s already more emotionally aware, #foreshadowing of character development)

She removed a big box from her closet. She opened it and it was filled with what appeared to be a bunch of scrap materials. At the bottom she removed a bigger bundle of black and red fabric and he flew closer.

She put it in her lap and Jason had to do a double take when he realized that her hands were glowing and what the actual fuck- it was a box now -fuck fuck fuck- why was it a box? How? What- Jason was pretty sure he did not sign up for this.

She put the box down in front of her and to his relief she opened her mouth to speak as she lifted the lid, so he’d understand everyth- and its jewellery.

The box contained jewellery. Animal themed jewellery by the looks of things.

He then realized that these were probably the other miraculous.

She looked over each artefact before handing him the yellow and black hairclip.

Out of all of them, she picked the bee miraculous.

“Hilarious,” he replied dryly, giving her a look, he realized too late she wouldn’t be able to register- on account of, well you know… (if u don’t know by now, you don’t get to find out anymore)

She gave him a grin and replied, “I certainly think it is,”

Her teasing expression turned into one of worry, “I mean we could switch it out if it makes you uncomfortable-,” (being a sassy people pleaser with no filters really do be like this tho)

He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. What do I do?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer before obviously realizing that she didn’t have an answer. She turned to Tikki and the kwami had a fond smile on her face before turning to Jason. (Just Tikki casually mentor- moming Mari because Fu is useless)

“Just step on the miraculous, it’ll sense that you’re human,” the creature replied.

When he stepped onto the bee miraculous, its kwami appeared.

Pollen stared at him for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.

After an explanation about her power set and what exactly he could do in suit, he transformed.

He felt his human body appearing. He was taller and more built than he remembered being. His flying clearly had physical consequences then, not that he was complaining.

His suit included a pair of bee wings. His hair was longer than he remembered it being too.

He had a black leather jacket and combat boots. With it was a pair of practical black leggings and a yellow t-shirt with three thick black stripes. (The three stripes represent each one of his families, the Todds, the Waynes and The Dupain-Chengs, because I can) He also had a pair of black gloves. His boots had yellow laces. On his face was a black and yellow striped domino mask. The top sat on his hip. The bee miraculous sat on the middle of his chest in the form of a broach.

He all but sprinted to the mirror. He stared at his face, his blue eyes and his nose that never healed quite right after breaking it that one time. His black hair was messy and stuck up every which way, his cheekbones were as high as always, and he had a little bit of stubble and it was so familiar and so new all at once.

He touched his face, barely registering the tears flowing down his cheeks and laughed in relief. He was human again. This was real! He could- he was closer to normal than he ever thought he’d get to be.

He turned to Marinette who was staring up at him in shock. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing in joy. And after a moment she joined in. He put her down and put his hands on her shoulders, smiling widely, “Thank you. Thank you so much,”

She smiled up at him, a slightly sad look on her face, “I’m sorry, it’s not permanent,”

“Don’t be sorry. For the first time I have hope. It will be permanent eventually, and till then, I have you with me, right?” he squeezed her shoulder, still high on the feeling of hope and warmth and familiarity.

When he was overcome with the sudden urge to pull her into a hug, he didn’t resist.

He held her close, resting his chin on her head, “Damn, I missed this. Hugging, I mean. I haven’t... it’s been so long,” (not that he got all that many hugs from Bruce “emotionally constipated” Wayne)

She wrapped her arms around him, “I can imagine,”

They stood there a while before the time for patrol came along. She transformed and they made their way to the Eiffel tower, where they met Chat.

The cat themed hero rose his brow questioningly, “I thought we didn’t recruit new heroes unless it was an emergency?”

Ladybug smiled nonchalantly, “It’s Guardian business, he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in our team for at least a few months so we might as well get used to working as a team,”

Chat Noir eyed him wearily and he stepped forward, sticking his hand out, “Hi, I’m Blackback, nice to meet you,”

Chat Noir shook his hand and gave Ladybug a sceptical look, “An American? Really?”

“Please Chat, he's not American, it’s just the glamour hiding his actual accent,” she replied simply, shooting Jason a worried look.

He couldn’t give away his identity, but he was also technically a bee, he didn’t really have an identity to give away. So, her behaviour was strange. Unless she wanted to give him an identity somehow?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of patrol.

When they got home Marinette revealed that she wanted to give him the fox miraculous. If they asked Trixx she would be able to design the costume in a way that allowed him to look like a normal civilian, without the mask.

Trixx's glamour was also stronger than the rest so his true identity as Jason Todd would be protected.

And she could help him fake an accent.

Since Marinette was a year younger than him he could just pick up where he left off school wise.

She convinced her parents that he was an exchange student in desperate need of a place to stay because the person he would’ve stayed with backed out last minute.

They agreed easily and Jason decided to not question it.

It was his third family. His second if you only counted non abusive ones. First if you wanted one with a healthy family dynamic.

They got him a fake birth certificate and name. He went with the alias Thomas Grayson. He thought it was kind of funny, and it paid homage to both Bruce and Dick. It gave him something from home to hold on to. (Jason isn’t really salty about not being avenged in this au, he didn’t die and Talia and the pit madness wasn’t there to egg on his anger. But maybe if I ever get back to this au we could do a thing with it… guess we’ll have to wait and see ;-) no promises tho)

He built himself another home with Marinette and her family. And before he knew it, he was happy again. He felt secure.

Through the weeks, he ingrained himself into Marinette's life. In a blink of an eye, they were best friends, and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

He loved living with her family as she trained to be strong enough to turn him back to normal.

He grew close to Marinette’s friends and was her shoulder to cry on about Adrien. He and Adrien got along pretty well, and he and Marc and Rose traded Literature jokes. Max would join in when it involved Shakespeare.

Then Lila happened. (She’s a staple in Maribat fiction. U can’t have Maribat without Lila. Or well u can but that’s usually a very specific au)

Her lies started out simple enough. Then she started manipulating everyone and he, Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were one scheme away from being ostracized. They sat in the back row.

They ignored her sneers and let her lie to her heart’s content. Then one day she said something that made both Marinette and Jason freeze.

“You know, I was childhood friends with Jason Todd (I know she usually gets the names wrong but like her knowing the name just makes this next bit better) You know, Bruce Wayne’s ward who died a while ago? It was just so sad. He grew up in a nice family but his parents both died in a car accident and Brucie took pity on him. He even let us keep in contact afterwards, since our parents were such good friends. We all miss them dearly of course. We were neighbours the year we lived in Gotham, you know? We'd play every day-,” she started fake crying, “Oh it just gets too much sometimes,”

But to Jason’s shock Alya didn’t move to console Lila, in fact, she was staring at the brunette in shock.

He turned his gaze to Marinette to see the girl wearing the biggest, coldest, most satisfied smirk. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Lila in a way that made shivers go down his spine.

He turned back, this ought to be good.

And it was.

Alya absolutely lost it.

She ripped Lila a new one and frankly? Jason was impressed. (Alya has a temper and she’s a fangirl, and we all know how we get when someone gets something wrong about one of our hyperfixations, even if it’s an old one so like yall can imagine how bad Lila had fucked up)

When an akuma flew in towards Lila, Alya grabbed it, staring the girl down with a fury he didn’t know she could possess, “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how easily you get akumatized and this time I’m not letting it happen!”

Of course, Alya then got akumatized but hey it beat another version of Lila.

Everyone made up but they weren’t quite as close as before. Their group tended to consist mostly out of him, Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka.

Other than that incident and akuma attacks, life was pretty good.

In fact, it was great.

He and Marinette would spend nights on her balcony, laughing and slow dancing. They star gazed and went on patrols. He helped her when she got nightmares and she returned the favour. They went on long walks and spent the holidays together. They crammed for tests and he played model for her designs. They worked in the bakery and hung out with their friends both in and out of suit. They’d joke about his technical bee-ness and he and Chat drove her mad with puns. In retaliation she’d introduce him as her bee friend to people or only give him honey and bee themed things. (ok this sentence sounds weird but I mean like when she brings them sweets from the bakery to snack on while working and stuff.)

And one laugh, memory and fight at a time, he started to fall. (I just want good things for Jason, and really can you blame me?)

Through the months, he kept up to date on the news about Bruce Wayne and Marinette held his hand each time a new kid joined his brood. She reminded him that no child could be replaced and reassured him that of course Bruce would want him back when they figured everything out.

And if he didn’t, she’d kick his ass into space, and he’d stay with her family in Paris- a family she made sure he knew he was a part of.

He helped Sabine in the kitchen and was the only one who came closest to beating Marinette’s Ultimate Mega Strike 3 record. Tom taught him to shave and bake. He was integrated into their family and they treated him as part of the family.

But even if they were giving him everything they were, he missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. And Barbara. And Gotham. He missed them all so much. He missed home.

So, 14 months later, when Marinette told him they had a meeting with the Justice League about the Hawkmoth situation, Jason felt his heart skip a beat.

“What?” he asked softly, his eyes brimming with tears (Marinette taught him how to emotion, you see. So Jason is emotionally stable-ish enough to cry without feeling embarrassed about it), “I get to see him again?”

Marinette nodded and hugged him from behind, “I’m planning on telling him what happened. Is there anything you can tell him to verify who you are?”

Memories from a million years ago entered his mind, “Yes,”

She took his hand and took a step back, “And I think I can fix you before we go, I’m strong enough. But I’d still like your help in the final battle, I mean I know you’re going home but...,”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course, Pixie. I’ll always be there for you when you need me,”

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, a movement so familiar it was practically a part of him. He pulled her close and cried into her hair.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?” he asked softly, after a while, resting his chin on top of her head.

“He will,” she replied, tightening her grip around his waist.

They both knew she had no guarantee of that. That she had no way of knowing for sure. Neither of them did.  And it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

The next day they do the magic turning back thing. It freaks him out quite a bit but not as much as her revealing the miraculous freaked him out the first time, you get kinda used to the magic shenaniganary. They’re both passed out for an hour afterwards and when they wake up, he holds her, crying, because he was finally, finally back to normal and this was real and permanent, and it was over.

She cried with him and held him, and they then went out and he wore a shirt she made for him, and they got ice cream the next day. They celebrated some more and went to the park with the squad and they had a picnic.

It was better than he ever could've imagined.

While the sun was setting, they stood back on her balcony, where they first spoke all those months ago, slow dancing. He pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her as the orange light of the sunset shone on them. (So aesthetic)

“Thank you, Marinette, for everything,” he says as he rubs his thumb across her cheek. His hand holding her face. She puts her hand over his and closes her eyes, savouring the moment.

She opened her eyes again and smiled, “I’d do it again and more, if it meant I’d get to be with you,”

He started leaning down, “If I lost you, I’d fly all over the world just to find you again,”

She raised to her tip toes, faces millimetres from one another, blue bells meeting ice, “So it was all worth it in the end?”

He moves closer, eyes searching hers. “Definitely,” he breathes.

She closes the distance, and he picks her up and spins her around. They break apart and their laughter fills the air.

(now that’s enough fluff, allow me to drown you in angst)

The next day they stood on the Eiffel tower. She took his hand, “Let’s recap. I go in, we have our Hawkmoth meeting, then I ask if I can speak to Batman and Nightwing alone. Then I tell them I found you, then I give them – are you sure it’s necessary for me to give them your blood, hair and a cheek swab? Isn’t that overkill?” (Batman is serious about his no kill rule, but he’s also serious about his there’s no such thing as overkill rule)

He shook his head and she sighed, “Okay. Then I give him means to contact me and I come back. Now remember they might take a while to process and they won’t necessarily call immediately-,”

“What if they never call?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly.

She ran her finger softly through his hair, “Then you have us to help you get through it,”

He nodded, she kissed his cheek and stepped through the portal with Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Viperion. He and Ryuuko stayed behind as backup, he wielded the Fox miraculous these days, but kept the name Blackback, always wearing a black leather jacket no matter the transformation.

He and Ryuko discussed fighting styles, she was kindly trying to distract him, and if it had been anything else he needed distracting from, it would’ve worked.

So passed the slowest forty-five minutes of his life. Chat Noir and Queen Bee exit a portal and so the wait for Marinette and Luka began.

She and Bruce were talking now. Bruce would know he was alive. This was make or break for him. Luka was nearby to act as back up worst-case scenario.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by someone taking and rubbing circles on his back. He looked down to see Ryuuko on his one side and saw Chat Noir on his other.

“We’ve got you,” Chloe said standing in front of him, hand on his unoccupied shoulder.

He swallowed and nodded. She squeezed his upper arm and met his gaze, “Breathe, you’re safe, honey,”

So, 30 more minutes pass. They sit down and somewhere along the line Chat goes and grabs a dozen croissants from the bakery.

In another situation he might’ve laughed. He’d baked this morning’s batch and now he got to eat some of it for free, of course, technically he could get others for free too but-

The portal opened behind them and Ladybug and Viperion stepped out. He noted that she didn’t have the bag of his DNA with her anymore.

She smiled softly at him, “Now we wait,”

And wait they did.

They waited two weeks.

And then the burner phone that's number they'd given Bruce rang.

Jason froze, Marinette jumped up and ran to get it.

He couldn't move as she walked over and put the phone on speaker, she grabbed his hand and he held onto her for dear life.

"We can both hear you now, Nightwing," she said.

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, "Can he- If you're- can I speak to him? In- um- private?"

Marinette looked at him, and he nodded. She took the phone off speaker and handed it to him.

He held it up to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the circles Marinette were drawing on his hand with her thumb.

"He- hey Dick," he said. He heard his brother's breathing hitch, followed by a few seconds of silence.

"When did Batman find you?"

"25th May 2017,"

"Who's your favourite author?"

"Mary Shelley tied with Jane Austin,” he replied.

Dick stayed silent for too long and before he could stop himself the words fell from his mouth, desperation clinging to each syllable,” My favourite- my favourite playwright is Shakespeare, and my favourite school subject is English. If I could pick any day job it would be being a writer. My favourite colour is blue. Alfred has a secret fear of dolphins. You have had a ridiculously huge crush on Barbara for years and she had no idea, and I found a picture you drew under your old room's bedside table of you two getting married. I folded the picture up and hid it in a small box of memories I kept in the farthest corner of my closet under clothes I never wore. I have a round scar on the lower left side of my back where Willis Todd burned me with a cigarette when I was 5 that you don’t know I know you know about. My first Christmas at the manor you found me in the rose garden cutting a few off to take to my mother's grave and I was terrified that you would yell at me but instead you drove me to the graveyard and that was the day I decided to give you a real chance. I despise carrots but I eat them when Alfred makes them because I don't want to be a burden. And I-," he choked on a sob- when had he started crying?

He took a shuddering breath, and swallowed some of his tears, trying to make sure the words got out right, "I've missed you guys for every single second that I've been gone,"

His stomach tied itself up in a million knots as the silence stretched on. He could hear Dick moving the phone.

"Can I speak to Ladybug again please?" A female voice he didn't recognize said.

He handed the phone to Marinette and pressed his hand over his mouth to try to contain the sobs. He felt like a knife was twisting his stomach. He couldn't even hear what Marinette was saying. (I’m going through something irl and as a result u guys get to read angst by the bucketloads and I regret nothing)

Dick didn't want to talk to him. He should've just answered the question, he shouldn't have given all the extra information. Now they were never going to believe that it's really him and he would never see them again. Maybe they knew it was him and they just didn't want him-

"Jason, breathe with me," he heard Marinette's voice. His eyes latched onto hers like a lifeline, he became aware of her hands holding his.

She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, in a motion so familiar that it came as easy as breathing. Well as easy as it usually was to breathe, right now excluded.

After he calmed down, she explained to him what they discussed. They would go to Gotham and meet and discuss things from there.

They wanted to meet him, but they still didn’t completely believe that it was him. He knew this for a fact because they had organized for M’gann to be there to confirm what he was saying. (Yassss M'gann my darling girl, I adore out lil Martian)

Marinette had suggested that they meet in the Batcave in an hour. Everyone had agreed. He assumed she had a plan as to why she wanted to wait. And he trusted her, so he waited for her to explain.

“I want to take the team, as backup. If you’re not comfortable with it, I want to at least take Luka. I would suggest just letting one of us wield is miraculous, but his Second Chance Timer limit is an hour so it would be most beneficial,” she said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding his.

He nodded, sitting up straighter, but not releasing his grip on her hand, “We can bring the team, it’s smart to have backup. Besides if things go haywire, we have Luka to stop us.”

“Then let’s go get our team, love,”

(oh, I should probably mention that only he and LB knows everyone’s Identities. Or well rather no one knows like officially. Like everyone lowkey knows everyone's and a few of them have officially revealed themselves to each other, but not everyone is officially revealed to everyone and Mari and Jason are the only ones who aren’t officially revealed to anyone else, it’s kinda like the vibes of knowing your best friend is queer but not saying anything because they haven’t officially come out yet but like you know because they ain’t nearly as subtle as they think. Like that aesthetic.)

Anyway, 50 minutes later, they’re all gathered on the Eiffel Tower. Jason saw Marinette give Luka a nod to reset his timer. Suddenly he was enveloped in a light with a scratch that wasn’t there a few seconds before on his cheek, his expression quite annoyed.

Marinette immediately furrowed her brows, “How many times?”

Viperion shook his head, “Don’t worry, only one so far, but they try to restrain us. We’re gonna have to try plan b this time,” Everyone nodded, they waited two minutes before the agreed upon time and Mari opened a portal, but instead of appearing out in the opened, they hid in the shadowy parts of the cave.

Jason used his illusion to hide them from any observant eyes and they spread out a bit. He and Mari stayed together, Cloe flew to get a higher perspective and hide Viperion on one of the cave’s many ledges while Chat just moved a few feet away to have a slightly different hiding spot. Kagami dropped into her wind form and was flying above them to eavesdrop, she’d go to Luka if she heard anything of importance so he could go restart again.

They’d be one step ahead of the Bats no matter what they pulled, after all, they had all the time in the world.

They watched them all get into position as time neared. Jason didn’t know all the kids but recognized them from the news.

Dick, Bruce and M’gann stood near the bat computer with Barbara – who was in a wheelchair but that was a realization to deal with later- and Alfred.

The minute they were supposed to appear Jason cast another illusion to make it appear as though they had arrived. As expected, weapons and restraints immediately swarmed on them, each kid going for a different miraculous member. Too bad the images turned into orange dust as soon as they touched them.

The tiny one in the Robin uniform was red in the face and immediately started throwing a tantrum, “Father! They’ve tricked us-,”

Before he could get another word out, Chloe mass-venomed the horde of kids that we’re sent to attack them. He counted Black bat, Red Robin, Batgirl, Signal and Robin. They were all frozen in the middle of the room and before the others near the computer could move, Kagami trapped them in a (rather large) ring of fire. They had enough space to move around comfortably but if they tried approaching the edge the flames would grow larger.

Batman growled and his eyes searched through the cave, but he wouldn’t see them, no matter how hard he searched.

Jason stared at them. Dick was also searching the cave, but he seemed to look more hopeful than angry. Alfred seemed his usual calm self and Barbara was glancing around the cave more subtly. He didn’t bother looking at the rest of the batkids because M’gann was staring right at him, staying right where she was despite her ability to fly.

“Hi, Jason,” she softly spoke into his mind, he felt emotion overwhelm him, she’d known him before everything, and she knew it was him and it was a lot.

He knew she wasn’t probing around his brain for information like he was sure Bruce had asked her to, she didn’t have to, she knew it was him.

“Can you please tell me why we’re surrounded by fire?” she asked.

“We have a time traveller,” he replied.

“Ah, not a fan of Bruce’s restrain and question method, then? Can’t say I blame you, though I do think you’ve proven your point,”

“You really think it’s a good idea to release all of them?” he asked sceptically.

“… Good point. Maybe leave the brood in the middle in whatever frozen state they’re in and just let us in the fire out. They really just think it’s too good to be true… Jason, I won’t let them hurt you,”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. He turned to Marinette and gave her a slight nod. She returned with one of her own.

They walked over to Kagami’s ring of fire and he held their illusion until they were right in front of it. He held on to it for a bit to make sure everyone else would be able to stay in position. Chloe would keep the cavalry venomized and Chat and Viperion would stick to the shadows, unless necessary.

Jason dropped the illusion and watched four heads snap to him. M'gann simply gave him a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.

Kagami moved herself to stand next to Marinette and turned back into her human form, glaring at them with a silent warning.

Their attention was elsewhere, though. For a long time they just stood there and stared at one another in silence. They studied every part of one another they could see.

His eyes caught on Barbara’s wheelchair and he felt ready to destroy whatever put her there. She met his eyes and he held her gaze. She must’ve seen something there because she gave a small smile as she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes.

“Miss Martian?” Batman broke the silence like a cheap dinner plate, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

“It’s him,” M’gann answered without a hint of hesitation.

It was Alfred that moved first. He took a few hesitant steps towards him and before Jason knew it the man was in front of him. Alfred reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, desperately studying him for a moment before pulling him into a hug only Alfred could give.

It took Jason a moment to respond but when he did he returned it wholeheartedly.

After a few minutes they pulled apart and it took him a moment to realize that they’d both started crying. When he looked up Dick was only a few feet away. The moment Alfred stepped away Dick pulled him close.

“I thought you were dead, kid. I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I lost even more family. You were too young, too innocent. Fuck Jason,” Dick whispered, tightening his grip, “I’m so glad you’re alive,”

Jason held on to his brother and that night they cried about terrible endings and broken beginnings. They cried about lost time and found family.

It wasn’t the end yet, Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris and he had no idea what Bruce thought yet. There were all his other kids, his brothers and sisters. There were his teammates and the incredible story of how he’d been turned into a bee of all things.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

But just for a moment, a strand of a singular moment, he had his brother in his arms again and he was back home. His first real home.

Things weren’t perfect, as things rarely are but it didn’t matter. Because part of the beauty of life is how it builds and breaks us in a cycle of love and loss.

And that night they laughed with a lightness and joy none of them had fully been able to hold onto in years.

 I hope you guys enjoyed!

This is lowkey totally gonna be the au I go to when I don’t know what to write lol, maybe write a bit of what happens afterwards or a part of everything during the year he lived with Mari them or just y’know shenanigans

[raddifferent]

I'm late but I'm in the middle of switching jobs so who cares! Here's Day Two of @rosemarymonth2021: Fantasy! This is Chapter 1; Chapter 2 will double as the Chapter 4 prompt because I want to finish this fic rather than do medieval with no fantasy elements. It's my writing project and I make the rules!!

Anyways, as usual the link will be in the replies and the fic is below the cut!

The esteemed Duchess Lepidopterina Dolorosa of the House Maryam, Baroness of the Misted Isles, Devotee of the Midnight Spiral, and Serene Lady of the Obsidian Blade, first of her name, was having a bit of a shit day. As some of her many fancy titles would suggest, she was an adept swordswoman, and she had been honored to be invited to the wedding of Duke Egbert’s daughter. She was more familiar with Lady Egbert than her betrothed, another Duchess of the Troll kingdom, despite being a troll herself. That was one of the side effects of spending an inordinate amount of time in the borderlands fighting off the blasted undead, as she found herself doing now.

Her traveling party had been journeying through the Cresting Mountains for a fortnight now, having crossed the mountain peaks worn oddly smooth by some ancient ocean and cracked in half on their tectonic ascent. The scraggly pines of its forests were dense in places and opened into large clearings in others, creating an unpredictable landscape full of pockets of zombies. Three of the party had fallen when the undead felled their horses, and she’d lost sight of the other two of her companions when the pack had separated them. Now, she fought the beasts alone.

Kanaya raised a shining hand, turning some of the undead near herself. She had a moment to catch her breath and assess the situation. A crowd of about fifteen undead humans and trolls had her backed against the base of a thick pine. At her feet lay a pile of bodies twenty-strong. Her black leather boots were shiny with rotting ichor, and splashes of guts, grime, and gore adorned her oiled outerwear. The Duchess twirled her twin blades, each a deep, midnight indigo sparkling with obsidian glitter, and also with a little magic. Her hands were covered with snugly-fit leather gloves, but beneath the animal hide Kanaya knew the sigils of the Church of the Midnight Spiral gleamed on the backs of her hands. Indeed, her skin itself glowed from the inside, although that was more of a side effect of being a Blessed Resurrectionist. Kanaya lived thirty five years, and died, and was brought back by The Bright Light in the Dark Sky to walk again some fifty more years. Those outside the Church would call her another, luckier undead. A vampire.

Her groaning, festering foes began to clamber close enough to swipe at her again. Kanaya whirled and sliced, removing limbs and heads as the undead shuffled within her reach. Eight more fell, leaving seven standing. Kanaya tried to wipe a smear of viscera from her face, but she feared the back of her sleeve only made the mess worse. She was breathing heavily. The dampness on her boots and the height of the bodies was beginning to impede her. She needed to reach high ground, and soon.

Just then, a golden light shone from deeper in the woods surrounding this clearing. Kanaya jumped to the side just as a zombie swiped at her head, leaving her in the perfect position to see a glowing arrow pin her assailant’s head to a tree. There must have only been one archer aiding her, as only one or two arrows came at a time, but they still landed more rapidly than Kanaya’s own battle maidens could achieve. In seconds, the battle had ended.

Still breathing heavily, Kanaya attempted to wipe her blades off on her jacket before sheathing them. She began to walk towards where the arrows had been coming from.

Kanaya was met at the edge of the clearing by a figure in a deep purple cloak. Her skin was a deeper, redder brown than Kanaya’s own, set in sharp contrast to their white-blond hair. Kanaya met her startlingly purple eyes, which were bright, intelligent, and a little mischievous. She had a golden lip ring down the center of her mouth, and a thin golden chain as a choker. Her clothing was modest but fine, Kanaya’s keen eye picking out expensive brocade in the shirt.

“To whom do I owe thanks for such gracious assistance?” Kanaya offered when the stranger did not speak.

The stranger spoke in a slightly raspy voice with a short, clipped affect. “Arrows rained upon your general area moments before, and yet you walk towards a potential source of danger? Moments after your own life was at risk? You must either be assured of your skill, or very stupid.”

“I like to think I am the former, although there is always time to prove the latter.”

The stranger smiled. “You think it is inevitable you will be proven unintelligent?”

“I find it imprudent to assume one will never make a mistake.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards. “Ah, a pragmatist. We may get along yet.”

Kanaya pursed her lips. “I find I get along with people much better if we have something to call each other by.”

“You would still like my name, then.” It wasn’t a question. They seemed to be hesitating. “I suppose you can call me Briar,” she said with a wry smile. “I’m just a traveler in these woods. There’s nothing I have to claim that involves fanfare.”

Politely, Kanaya did not mention the clearly magical bow, or the fine clothing. “I do have a bit of a fancy title, but I think it best not to rattle off the entire thing. Suffice it to say that you can call me Kanaya.” Hopefully, her rescuer would be equally polite about her weaponry and dress.

“May I ask where you’re headed? I wouldn’t mind some company, and you certainly seem like you need the assistance.” The last was delivered with a smirk, which Kanaya bristled a little at.

“I have been traveling with several others, thank you; we just found ourselves separated after that large group of undead descended onto us. I had almost dispatched all of them when you arrived.” She made a sweeping gesture back towards the not-immodest pile of re-deceased zombies surrounding the tree she had been up against.

Briar smirked harder. “So my assistance is not desired?”

“No, that is not-” Kanaya broke off her objection with a huff as Briar began to laugh. “I would, actually, quite like your help locating my companions. However, I would like to know why you would want to help me. You seem to be taking great pleasure in needling me about needing it.”

The other traveler sobered slightly. “I just know what it’s like to be traveling alone, and the drudgery of not having someone to talk to, no stories to tell around the fire or on the road. It can be better to group up, even temporarily, just to kill the boredom.”

“Did you lose a companion recently as well?” Kanaya blurted.

Briar raised a thin eyebrow. “Not recently, as it were. But yes, I have previously parted ways with those whom I enjoyed sharing a story or three.”

“I would be happy to share tales with you, stranger. My companions would likely head towards the closest inn if they were sure they were separated from me, as that was our next destination. Does that align with your path?”

The other woman smiled. “That it does. When last I consulted my map, the next inn was a half-day’s walk up the road. Shall we?”

As they walked up the road, dappled light gently touched the faces of both travelers. Briar hummed an aimless tune, kicking up dead, brown leaves. They traveled in silence for quite some time, neither quite willing to speak up after such an abrupt introduction. About an hour into the walk, Kanaya opened her mouth and was about to begin some sort of small talk about the weather when they reached the top of a hill. Below them, the trees opened up to reveal a path curving down and around a small, ruined stone structure. What had previously been a large castle town now lay in disarray, the abbey wall crumbling and holding nothing at bay. The peasant houses must have been constructed of wood, as all but their foundations had long rotted away. All that remained was a small stone castle with a single, thin spire reaching high into the sky. Small was relative; the property would have held a baron comfortably in his keep with acres of holdings, but from the vantage point it felt like a child’s plaything.

“Well, that certainly looks interesting.” Briar broke the silence with a chuckle.

Kanaya did have to agree. Ruins such as this one, so deep in the woods, were possibly undisturbed, and might have strange and magical treasures hidden within. At the very least, there would be a few monsters to kill, and get some of her frustrations out. “We should explore it. There is still light in the sky.”

Briar’s smile faded slightly. “You know, I grew up not too far from here. When I was a little girl, we were told a tale in whispers. It was the sort of fairy tale that adults would laugh off, but forbid you from speaking about ever again. Would you like to hear it?”

“Right now?” Kanaya asked, the question coming out more incredulously than she intended. “While we’re stopped in the middle of the road?”

The smile was back. “I can walk and weave words, miss.”

“Well then, far be it from me than to stop you.”

“A long, long time ago, a young king killed what he thought was the last dragon in his lands. His fields were free from fiery terror, and his people lived prosperously for three decades. One day, a winged shadow drew over the land again, smaller than the scourge that had last plagued the land, but still enough to wreak havoc. One dragon spawn had survived, and had lived long enough to exact its revenge.”

Briar stopped to hop over a river, holding out an arm to steady Kanaya as she crossed. Her hands were warm, heat thrumming through Kanaya’s thick gear to her palm where she clasped Briar’s. She let go, and they continued. Kanaya’s hand felt cold.

“The dragon landed on the top of the castle of the now-middle-aged king, and told the king that he would leave the lands be, if only the king would offer his daughter. One life in exchange for the kingdom’s safety.”

Kanaya laughed grimly. “I suppose it was an easy deal to make with the dragon staring him down.”

“I suppose it was,” Briar replied. “He brought his daughter to be scooped up in the dragon’s claws and carried away. The kingdom was quiet and safe for another thirty years, until the king’s son had borne an heir and several daughters, and a new ruler was crowned. The dragon once again flew across the land, and once again sat atop the tower and demanded a companion. Every three decades, the dragon would return, larger than before, and more imposing.”

“And how long ago was the last time the dragon came to the land?” Kanaya asked, playing along.

“Well, that’s just the thing.” Briar held a branch up so Kanaya could pass under it. “The dragon hasn’t been sighted in over fifty years.”

“Do you know why?”

The first crumbling pieces of stone that formerly lined the road to the castle began to rise up from the sides of the road. “No one knows. Some of the bravest in our village once described traveling deep into the woods and seeing a castle with a tall tower, a sleeping monster curled around the top.”

Kanaya squinted ahead, trying to spot the castle. “Did you put much stock in their tales?”

“When I was younger? Not really. Now? Also no, not really. I think if a dragon had a castle, he’d sleep inside of it, not on top.”

Involuntarily, Kanaya burst out laughing. “That’s your justification for why they’re wrong? Not that your country doesn’t have a history of missing princesses, or that you happened to live close enough to the dragon’s castle to find it, but not so close that it bothers you?”

Briar put her hands on her hips. “Would you sleep out in the rain and the cold if you had the option not to?”

“I make a habit not to when I have the choice,” Kanaya ceded.

“Then you admit there’s some logic to what I say,” Briar smirked felinely.

Kanaya rolled her eyes, smiling. “Begrudgingly. At any rate, there was no dragon on that tower when we saw it from above.”

“No,” Briar said. “There wasn’t.”

[borkthemork]

Hi! I’ve been following you around since the robot controlled by marvy theory. I would like to know if you are planning on finishing falling down dry! It’s such an amazing story and I genuinely did enjoy every second of reading it.

Aww, hello there! Yep, Falling Down Dry is still being developed, it's just that I took a lil break since I have college and have been working on multiple WIPs over the coming days, however the next chapter is finished I just need to do a lot of editing.

Also, honest to God, it's really surprising that I'm getting a lot of messages about Falling Down Dry since I never expected that story to be the most anticipated one out of the collection, it warms my heart that you guys genuinely love it that you'd want to reach out and ask about it. I really appreciate it, that fic is like my baby.

I will say though, if you want an excerpt from the fic itself here's a few pages from the current draft of Chapter Eight.

---

She shone a light into the rest of the passageway, onto the curved ceiling up above — at the lack of light from the covered hole she once fell in through, and it struck Marcy that the general shouldn't have gone far.

A bound-up newt wouldn't have been washed up by the waters, right? She must've been somewhere in the area, she had to!

So Marcy grabbed her boots and jumped into the waters once again, and hoped by some miracle that the general didn't get pushed farther down the way. She jumped when something soft brushed against her legs. Pulling it out, however, rewarded her flashlight with the remains of a duffel bag — intact, lumpy, with nothing inside whatsoever.

She must’ve escape—

The waters ruptured behind her. Marcy screamed and slammed the duffel bag into its direction, only for someone to yell out and splash into the current from the weight.

General Yunan’s voice rang out in pain. “Why is that everytime I try to greet myself, I get maimed!”

Marcy just watched her with her satchel close to her chest, trying hard to regain her breath now that the sight became known. There was no attacker. It was just Yunan, drenched to the tiniest pores with water, bare except for her tunic and trousers, and all-around not in a good mood to handle Marcy’s presence...again.

Marcy smiled though. “General, I’m so glad to see you, I knew you didn’t die!”

“That’s very flattering of you,” she said. On closer inspection, Yunan had brushed her hands off on her tunic and nothing else. No claws. No belt. None of the medals either. “I’m perfectly fine, with the current circumstances at least.”

And when Yunan tilted her head up toward the ceiling, Marcy became aware of the moss that festered above them. Or how the passageways seemed to echo. Echo as if the underground resonated from the farthest regions of the mountains — and knowing how fantastical Amphibia was, it wasn’t far off to think so.

Her skin crawled at the thought.

“I tried the hole,” Yunan said, a noticeable grimace on her face. “Too much weight. The fools aren’t exactly fools when they know I’m about to rip them to smithereens.”

Or maybe they had always been clever, Marcy thought. With this whole town created as a whole tax evasion scheme, it would make sense to get the advantage on them whenever they could by playing dumb. And now that she thought about it…

“That does explain why there’s no crime in this town,” she said. “They dumped practically anyone in here if they had a reason to.”

“Great.” Yunan swam toward the bricked platforms and hoisted herself up. She paced the stone with restless energy, the kind Marcy recognized from a mile away as anxiety, or at least enough anxiety that didn’t boil into a breakdown. “But it doesn’t matter. As one of the highest Newtopian generals in the land, I’ve completed my fair share of eccentric missions, and this is no different.”

She took in a deep inhale. “This place is just like Boggsumm’s ambush, except with less cannibalism and more rocks. Not a problem!”

“Ma’am I think we need to think about thi—”

Before Marcy could finish, Yunan had started toward the darkness, away from the covered sewer entrance and into the fog of war once more.

“General, where are you going?"

“Finding a way out.” Her yells had softened with the unseen distance. “If climbing won’t do the trick then I’ll do what my ancestors did and conserve my energy. Bet this hole hasn’t thought of that now, has it?”

“Of course, but we shouldn’t go farther away from where we started. What if we get lost and lose our only known exit? It’s too risky.”

Yunan halted in her tracks. “It’s better here than to sit and do nothing.”

Marcy stared at her, mouth open — silent, unsaid.

“So come on.”

And with each fading yell, the darkness settled into her gut, cold as cold should be. With that, Marcy scrambled to pour her items back into the satchel, and high-tailed it into the tunnels. “Hey, wait for me!”

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 13)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! I am so excited to be back with this story after the month I spent away, and I find it so wild that in that past month so much happened with royals in the actual world. I wouldn’t say it inspired this chapter at all, but it was cathartic to write a story where the Prince and Princess get a much healthier, more healing reception. I know how many of you love this fic, and it definitely has a special place in my heart as well. It’s been so important to me that I do the ending of this story justice, and so it took a bit of time to get my thoughts organized. This is one of the final chapters, and I only anticipate one more actual story installment and then maybe, someday far off in the future, an epilogue or two. That being said, this is a long-awaited milestone for CS and I have attempted to infuse all of my usual cuteness and romance. I hope that you all enjoy, I would love to hear what you think, and thank you all so much for reading!

Gazing out upon the overlook as the sun rose over the tree line in the Montenarran morning, Killian was comforted once more by the vastness of the world and the beauty that danced before him. The light shone with a color and vibrancy he’d come to know and love, but this morning the air hummed with languid layers of anticipation. Maybe it was Killian’s excitement and nerves, but he didn’t think so. No, if anything the world seemed to shimmer today, a sign from above that the timing was right and that he was ready to take this next big step.

The next time I visit this place, I’ll have Emma by my side, he thought to himself, soaking in the comfort of such a plan. 

This was on his list of places to share with his Swan, but he reasoned that he had all the time in the world for such gifts. Today, though, he was planning to make that assumption a reality. For finally, after nearly three days of being parted from his love, he was planning to propose, in a way befitting a woman of Emma’s caliber.

Instinctively, Killian’s hand moved to his pocket, drawing out a small black box which held a ring inside. The ring was beautiful and ornate, an overt and ostentatious display of love, but one with inherent meaning. This was the ring his grandfather had given his Gran, a ring forged for the purpose of real and lasting love. It was not exchanged at their wedding, but instead in a private ceremony the two of them shared some weeks later. Their wedding had been arranged, but still they’d found real love. This ring was a gift, however, given at the turning point where Killian’s grandfather knew that his love for his new Queen was more than mere arrangement – it was true and totally transformative.

“Your brother, as reigning monarch, has full claim to your grandfather and my wedding bands, and he will make good use of them with his Elsa, I am utterly assured,” Gran had claimed some weeks back when she stole Killian for a private moment. On that night, she was serious and sincere, most of her deeply playful nature tucked aside for a brief window of time. She glanced at her the matrimonial ring she still wore, years after the death of her dearly departed husband before looking back to Killian with conviction and calm. “The love between them grows each day, and is befitting of what me and your grandfather shared. But this ring I’m giving you, Killy… this ring is something else altogether. This is magic made metal. This is perfectly genuine affection forged into precious gems.”

“It is gorgeous, Gran,” Killian agreed when she presented the ring to him. “But I can’t take something like this from you. Not when it means so much.”

“That’s why you must have it, Killy. If your Grandfather were here, he would say the same. This ring bound us in life, but now we are bound through so much more.”

For the first time in years, likely since the death of his grandfather himself, Killian watched as tears trickled down his Gran’s face. It instantly pierced his heart, for this was a woman who always showed strength. Even when he was on deployment and gone for years on end, his Gran persevered. She may grow misty eyed or get choked up, but tears were a whole different story. Only the memory of her husband could prompt them, and Killian thought to himself not for the first time that she had been so strong for so long, going on without him.

“Our love is forever, living, thriving, singing its song for now and for always. I miss him, every day, every moment, I wish that he was here, but someday we will have each other again. And in the meantime, this ring deserves another union. It was made to be passed through generations. I will confess that I wondered if anyone should ever be worthy of it, if love like ours would find its way here again. But I needn’t have doubted. You and Emma are made for each other, and it would be my honor for Emma to wear this.”

Killian agreed whole heartedly with his Grandmother’s explanation, and he knew no more beautiful stone could be found the world over. This ring bore a remarkable yellow diamond, encircled with smaller stones of the same rare hue. The exact shade sparkled in the sunlight, but almost seemed dipped in the golden glow of a summer’s afternoon. It was pristine and poetic, warm and well beyond the pale, reminding Killian of the highlights in Emma’s hair and the lilt of her laughter. Her joy was precious, more precious than any stone, but as he gazed upon the rock, it felt quintessentially designed for his Swan. It was happy and bright, bold and beautiful, and he knew, despite its flair and size, that Emma would love it.

The only thing left to do is ask her.

The thought breathed new life into Killian, even more so than the Montenarran morning, and he walked back through the forest paths towards the palace once more, energized and ready for the day ahead. He had everything planned and had been working on this for some time. There were many moving pieces, but he’d squared them all away. In the end he would see to it that this was perfect, for that was exactly what his Swan deserved.

Arriving at the palace just after the sunrise, Killian moved with purpose and precision. He had only a little bit of time, and much to accomplish.

“The last of the parcels have been delivered, Your Grace,” one attendant announced as Killian walked through the palace doors. “The bulk of them are here, as you see, though some are in the green house for obvious reasons.”

“Excellent, Jacque. Thank you.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir, it’s just… are you certain you don’t need help arranging things? It’s a significant amount of work here. The staff is happy to assist.”

“I appreciate that offer, Jacque, but I’ve got things well in hand. I’ve been planning this for some time.”

A thoughtful smile appeared at the older man’s face, one that broke the traditional polite protocol and spoke to how long he had known Killian and the royal family. “Of course, Sir. Well, in that case, best of luck.”

Killian took the well wishes to heart, knowing he had a massive task before him. Perhaps he could have given himself more time to bring all of these pieces together, but to him, it already felt like too much time had been wasted. He was more than ready for this next step with Emma, and after three days spent apart, not seeing each other in person, or sharing much more than a few texts and facetimes, he was particularly desirous to see this through. He had been strategizing on how to get this right for quite a while, and by now he knew each assignment down to the letter.

“I assume that your dismissal of Jacques offer goes for us as well?”

Killian glanced up, finding his mother on the stairwell. From here she was stately and elegant, a poised dowager Queen with refinement and grace, but as she descended, she became more herself, and by the time she was in front of Killian, taking his hand in hers, she was no more and no less than a wonderful mother. His greatest support for many years, and someone who he knew would give anything she could to make this moment special.

“It does, at least for this. But with the children arriving in a few hours’ time -,”

“Not to worry on that front,” his mother said cheerily, her own happiness at the thought of all the Institute’s residents coming to the palace for a special premiere outing. “Your Grandmother and I have all in hand, and Liam and Elsa are set to help us. It’ll be a day to remember.”

“Good,” Killian said, looking around and finding his Gran already in full form, instructing the staff as to the desires she had for the outdoor space. Through the glass of the palace’s wall of windows, her words were muddled, but the humor was clear as day. This woman, frail and aged from outward appearance, was a firecracker, ruling over the days designs with an iron fist. “Surprising that Liam is giving Gran such a wide berth.”

“Well how could he not? He’s yet to come down for the day. Hard to give orders from a distance.”

Killian let out a whistle, and laughed as his mother swatted his arm and ‘tutted’ his boyish actions. Knowing when enough was enough, he left unsaid the clear reason that his brother would choose to stay abed so late in the morning. Killian would stake his life on the fact that a certain guest was here within the palace, and that she likely made a visit of the overnight variety.

“What are the chances that Gran doesn’t know?” Killian asked and his mother shook her head.

“Zero.”

“And the likelihood that she will say something?”

“That’s still to be determined.” Killian was shocked at his mother’s genuine opinion. He, for one, thought it undoubtable that Gran would make mention of this moment, gleefully commenting on the need for royal heirs or some such outlandish claim. “Eleanor is direct and prone to speaking her mind, but she is also strategic. If the calculated risk of such a comment is too high, she will deny herself. She would never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s prospects.”

“You really think a smart comment from an old woman is enough to keep them apart?” Killian asked, thinking back on the few weeks that Liam and Elsa had shared since finding each other again. They had been as close to inseparable as the schedule of a King would allow. It was clear that they were both entirely invested, so much so that a royal announcement would be made in the coming days announcing their relationship.

“Not for a second.”

“So, if you know that, and I know that… surely Gran must know that.”

At that exact moment a maid was walking back into the house, opening the glass doors. From the outside they could hear his grandmother calling out to Liam and to Elsa, who had been discovered somewhere in the backyard. They no doubt were trying to be more discrete, but Gran seemed to have no interest in allowing them that privacy.

“Oh Lord, it’s time,” Meera said with a mix of worry and also amusement. Her eyes were alight with the humor of the moment, but also the very real awkwardness that may soon transpire. “I best get out there and spare them from what I can.”

Killian nodded, but wasn’t ready for the impact of his mother’s arms around him squeezing tight. It was not in any way part of the royal protocol, but his family never paid much mind to that. Still, this was a big hug, one that was obviously filled with tremendous meaning.

“I’m so proud of you, my darling. You’ll give her everything she deserves, and the two of you will be happy. So wonderfully, beautifully happy.”

“Thanks, Mum. Love you,” he whispered, accepting her soft kiss on his cheek and her shared words of love in kind before she dashed off to help his elder brother. A Queen should never move so quickly, but then again, Gran could do quite a bit of damage in the seconds it would take to get from here to there. For his part, Killian only chuckled to himself before heading to the side of the palace towards the gardens for the day.

The next few hours were defined by attention to detail and purposeful precision. Before meeting Emma, Killian could safely say he never imagined the lengths and planning required for a proper proposal. The idea was so intangible, so unnecessary in his estimations, that he never dwelled on even the possibility. It seemed unlikely that his heart would ever be touched in that way. He assumed he’d go through life a bachelor, or worse yet, that he’d cave to eventual pressure and say yes to something arranged and designed without feeling or passion. Luckily for him he had escaped such a fate, and instead had been steered through the grace of all things good towards a woman who was far and away the most remarkable he’d ever met.

Emma was rare and extraordinary. He had known it from their first meeting, and he continued to hold onto this truth every day they were together. There was never a moment when he didn’t realize his good fortune, or when he took her presence in his life for granted. Emma had revived him. She anchored him into the goodness of the world, and she showed him what could be. She expanded his horizons, even brought with her a son, another key part of a growing family, and by her side, Killian felt like he was capable of anything.

He only hoped that the elements he’d gathered today would translate as he imagined they could. This was a memory in the making that could only be shared once. Killian wanted to be sure that it was what Emma wanted and deserved. Luckily, he’d had help and more than a little bit of intel, mostly provided by Henry and from a few other insiders who knew Emma best of all.

“Are all systems a go, Captain?”

As if he’d conjured Henry with the grateful thought of all the boy had done for him, he turned now to find Emma’s son in the garden. Killian watched as the lad took in their surroundings, his eyes growing wide, and his whispered ‘this is so cool’ a welcome sign that Killian’s efforts had not been for nothing. He stood from where he’d been bent down, tidying up the last of his efforts, and when he gazed upon it himself, he had to say he was happy with the outcome.

“Aye, Lieutenant. All the necessary components are accounted for.”

“Good. She’s going to lose it. In a good way though,” Henry said with a smile which burned bright.

“Is everyone arrived then?” Killian asked and Henry shook his head.

“Soon, but not just yet. Anna and I have been here for a while now. Gran needed help with the game set up, but I asked if I could see you first.”

The look of wonder and happiness that had clung to Henry since arriving colored to something a bit more pensive. The shift gave Killian some pause for the first time all day. “Everything all right, lad?”

“Everything’s great, I just – well I was wondering – I mean if Mom says yes – or rather when she says yes, because she’ll totally say yes, it’s just that, well I – I was wondering…”

“No need to be worried, Henry,” Killian said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Whatever you have to ask me, I’m here to help. You have my word I will make it right.”

“I know. And you’ll love Mom forever, right?”

“Aye, lad. Forever and then some.”

“And you love me too,” Killian’s heart clenched as he automatically nodded.

“Yes, Henry. I love you both, undoubtedly.”

“And we’re going to be a family.”

Killian didn’t know what to say. Down to his bones he knew that they would be. He was confident in this union between him and Emma. They had made promises already, declarations of love. He would give anything to be her husband, and he knew that someday he would be, but to say it aloud to her son when Emma herself hadn’t had a chance to even be asked was something else entirely.  In the end, he decided to just go with his gut.

“In my heart, we already are.” Henry beamed up at him, the worry of the moment melting away. Still, Killian never imagined what he’d say next.

“Well then I was hoping that maybe, when you and Mom are married, maybe I could call you Dad?”

Killian was overwhelmed with the request. It was something he had wished for, but didn’t want to press. He knew Henry had no memories of his biological father, but he never wanted to assume. It was a massive move for a young man to ask such a question, but Killian’s answer to the query was instant and heartfelt.

“I would be honored, lad.”

“Cool,” Henry said happily, brimming with the excitement he’d had since Killian first told him about his plan to propose to Emma.

Henry moved forward, hugging Killian with the affection of an earnest hearted ten-year-old, and Killian savored it, knowing he would always see Henry as his son. He may not be his blood, but he lay claim to a large piece of Killian’s heart. He silently swore to always do right by Henry. To protect him and to teach him what he could. But mostly he would support him, and show love to Henry and his mother all the days of his life. Before Killian could speak to more of that, the sound of busses pulling up, and happy children streaming onto palace grounds wafted through the air. The time had come. This was the moment.

“You know the plan, son?” Killian asked, the word slipping off his tongue so easily, and bringing real joy to Henry’s eyes.

“Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll have Mom to you in five minutes. You can time me.”

Killian might have laughed at the fervor and excitement Henry shared, but unfortunately, five minutes waiting in a moment like this felt like a lifetime away. The only thing that got him through were the last-minute adjustments, and the journey that was needed from where he was, to where they’d start their memorable afternoon. Finally, the moment came where Killian was waiting at the start of the hedgerow, even further from the festivities and he could hear the woman he loved, unaware of his being here.

“Henry, seriously, what’s going on? The party’s only just starting. We have time for a tour later. We can go with the others.”

“Trust me Mom, this can’t wait.”

“What is it Henwy?” a tiny voice Killian would know anywhere asked. Cecelia was with them, another sign from above that his plans were moving the way he wanted.

“Something magical,” Henry said and Killian could hear the sharp trill of an excited little girl.

“Like fairies?”

“Just wait, you’ll see.”

“Something magical, huh?”  Emma parroted, but at that moment they all stepped into view.

Three days may be but a blip in time to some, but to Killian it had felt like an eternity. The peace he now experienced at seeing his Swan again was profound, and somehow she was even more stunning than when he’d left her. The day’s light shone in her hair and in her smile. She was gorgeous and relaxed, dressed in a delicate pink sun dress designed to tease and torment. Her radiance outshone every flower in this garden, and in the moments before she saw him, he soaked in the sight of her. God she was beautiful, too beautiful to properly behold. His heart skipped and his muscles tightened, and then her eyes landed on him and he was whole.  The world was righted once more, and all because Emma saw him and felt the same pull he felt emanating from his chest. The surprise in her eyes was evident, followed immediately by relief, and joy, and love, and all of it was too sweet a call to resist. He moved towards her and the children, sending up one last prayer in this critical moment.

Please let her be mine. I swear I’ll deserve her. Whatever it takes.  For I am hers, body and soul, and I always will be.

………………

God he’s gorgeous, Emma thought instinctively upon finding Killian at the far end of the garden hedge. That thought was followed closely by, Wait, what is he doing here?

“Killy!” Cecelia cried out happily, letting go of Emma and Henry’s hands and sprinting towards him. Emma watched as Killian crouched down, accepting the hug from the little girl who effortlessly stole their hearts. He closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in the moment, and then he pulled back and pushed some of her wayward curls from Cecelia’s eyes, smiling at her with genuine affection.

“Good morning, little love. How are you finding the palace?” Emma’s heart clenched in her chest in the best way. He was just so sweet with her. He always had been.

“It’s so so good,” Cecelia replied, bringing a laugh out of all of them.

At the little girl’s enthusiastic endorsement, Killian thanked Cecelia and then stood once more, looking at Emma with those captivating blue eyes and that charming smile that always took her breath away. She was still trying to fathom his presence here. They had spent the last few days apart, days she found so much more difficult to manage than she expected, but he wasn’t set to return for a few more days. Liam had sent him on state business. She didn’t press for details, assuming it was confidential, but now, she was curious as to this wonderful turn of events. Before she could ask though, he walked over to her, taking her into his arms and kissing her surely. She leaned into this embrace, loathed to let him go, but he seemed to remember they were in the presence of little eyes. It was a fleeting kiss, but still invigorating all the same.

“I don’t understand. You’re supposed to be away the rest of the week.”

“I hope you’ll forgive my brother for that white lie,” Killian said, his hand coming up to scratch at his ear in that subtle show of bashfulness she’d witnessed a time or two. “If you’ll recall I never actually confirmed an itinerary, having sworn never to lie to you again.”

“So, you weren’t on a… huh, let’s see, how did Liam put it? A ‘mission for the future of the nation’ then?” 

“Not exactly. But then again, in some ways, that’s exactly where I was. Do you trust me, love?”

Emma nodded, and watched as his smile grew warmer. She knew that it meant to him to have her trust, but in her eyes, he had earned it ten times over. Killian was a good man – the best man she knew – and he made her feel safe. Of course she trusted him. She had never trusted anyone this much before.

“In that case, I’ve some things to show you. Henry, you’ll be sure to hold down the fort in the meantime?”

Emma looked over to her son, and only now realized that this was all planned somehow. Her boy looked pleased as punch, and even sent a salute Killian’s way. “Yes sir. And Cecelia will help, wont’ you Ceci?” The little girl nodded, joyously, thrilled at the prospect of helping. “We’ll see you both soon.”

Killian nodded, leading Emma in the direction of the garden. The further they moved into the hedgerow, the quieter it became, until the only songs around them were those of birds and breeze. Emma was amazed at all of this, but she was also still wrapped up in his return. It felt so good to be back with her hand in his, the glow of his presence enveloping her. She’d never missed someone like she had the past few days, never ached this way to be reunited with someone. It was a testament to all she felt for him and how much she’d come to love him. Quietly she stopped walking, pulling Killian’s attention. With a quick glance behind them, she saw no one had followed. They were totally alone and so she made her move. Pulling him down for another kiss, she said a proper hello, and shivered in delight at his reaction.

His hands were on her, seemingly everywhere, holding her close as they tasted each other. She felt his soft dark hair between her fingers, where she ran them through by the nape of his neck. She arched in closer, feeling the friction of their bodies together, and sighing in pleasure when they pulled apart. It couldn’t go further than that, but Emma felt more secure having shown him even in a small way how happy she was to see him.

“Hell of a welcome home, love,” he growled out, words low and throaty from his own swirling emotion. “If leaving wasn’t torture in itself, I’d consider more trips just for this.”

“No need to leave for these,” she whispered to him, leaning in for another kiss but then nipping him gently instead and stepping back out of his grasp. She smiled at his evident frustration, and laughed when he groaned in defeat. He knew he was had, but from the way he pulled her back into his arms, running his hand along the small of her back and looking at her adoringly, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You are a marvel, love. Have I mentioned that yet?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she teased, looking back to where they’d been walking and giving him silent permission to lead to their destination once more. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Beautiful was an understatement. In truth, Emma had never seen such intricate floral designs or such an array of colors and flower species. She had to imagine it was more than a palace garden. This had to be one of the most beautiful botanical spaces in all of Europe.

“Much of that is my mother’s doing. Her passion project, so to speak. She brought us out here when we were boys. Showed us bits and bobs. But this has always been hallowed grounds. Special, and perhaps, as Henry hinted, a little magical as well.”

Emma was poised to reply, but at that moment they turned a corner and things changed. They were still in a garden, but this time – oh lord it was difficult to describe. Magnificent was the first word that came to mind, and ethereal came soon after. For where there were blossoms and buds before, now there even more, hanging from pergolas above and winding through ivy vines on every hedge. Some were clearly naturally placed, but Emma noticed pieces woven into this area that she’d seen before, half a world away.

“Windchimes,” she murmured, looking at the gorgeous displays that reminded her of home.

There was a storefront, totally discrete from the street view and far off of the beaten path, deep in the heart of Chinatown, that she and Henry had found when he was younger. It was filled with artisan chimes and motifs and mobiles made from natural items and glass and more. The owners were amazing and known in crafting circles around the globe. The first day Emma and Henry visited taking refuge from a sudden winter chill, the couple who owned the store had taken the time to walk her son through their work. They’d then spent hours in the studio, and though Emma had very little by way of money for a purchase, they’d showed her and Henry nothing but the utmost kindness. She’d always found the pieces beautiful, comprised of shells and flecks of crystal or silver and gold, swirled into constellations that evoked a night sky or sense of wonder. 

Over the years she and Henry returned to the studio many times, and even bought a few pieces when she could save enough to treat herself to something precious. There was so much beauty crafted in each piece. Emma always found herself wanting more, and she loved their trips back over and over again. The style  of this artwork was one of a kind. Emma had never seen other pieces like these, but here, in this patch of the garden, there had to be a hundred intricate, delicate, interrelated art pieces dancing in the wind.

“How is this possible?”

“Henry may have mentioned something. Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous. God, the time it must have taken to put this all together…”

“Was time well spent, believe me, love.” Emma looked to him and she could have sworn from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that he was the one who had done this. But that was crazy. How could he have possibly had time for all this?

“But how did it all even get here?”

“I brought it.”

“You brought it?” Emma asked, stunned, her fingertips grazing the smoothed lines of one art piece dripping in sea glass. “You were in New York.”

“Aye.”

“But why?”

“Patience, love. There’s more to see.”

Emma had no idea how there could possibly be more, but she tucked her arm through Killian’s and walked with him to the next section of gardens. Here there was a sudden burst of purples and whites, and a scent she’d been missing without even realizing it. Lilacs, but none of them in season. Oh God, look at all of them.

“Killian,” she whispered, looking at what must have been thousands of bouquets of her favorite flower. It was unbelievable, but it was real, and she moved forward, seeing them all set up and displayed prominently in the midst of a garden with white roses. It was gorgeous and surreal. And now she was utterly dazed and more than a little confused.

“You and Henry are well known at the Brooklyn gardens love, as I’m sure you are well aware. I had it on good authority from a woman named Ella that lilacs are your particular favorite.”

“These can’t all be from there,” Emma said and Killian shook his head.

“No, these are admittedly sourced from a few specialty purveyors across the continent. But this,” he pulled out a polaroid of a small lilac tree that was recently planted. Looking at the surroundings, Emma realized that was outside Killian’s home here in Montenarro. “This is directly from the gardens. The same family and strain, all the way from New York.”

Emma was too shocked to speak, and felt the tears welling in her eyes. He had done so much for her, and she knew it was for one reason. He wanted to bring part of her home, part of a place that meant so much to Henry and her, here to his home. It was so thoughtful she felt tongue tied. What could she say? This was all so much.

Unbelievably there was even more, and over the next few minutes he took her through three more break away gardens, each filled with other staples of her one-time home. Food and culture and memories and more. This man had managed to find all of the best parts of her time in New York and he had brought them here. Some of them were things completely out of the realm of possibility.

“I can’t believe you found this,” Emma said, holding onto a years-old piece of construction paper that had been forgotten to time.

This picture was one of so many projects that her son had made in life, but Emma cherished the memories that went with it. Another example of the city’s serendipity, this painting chronicled a day of adventure for Emma and Henry. They’d wandered all through the city, and ended up in Queens for a special summer program for kids. She was always looking for magic moments for Henry, especially ones designed for a budgeting single Mom, and this one had delivered. There were story times and games, crafts and activities, and Henry had been thrilled. He made this picture of the two of them, and though it looked nothing like Emma, it had captured her heart. It also caught the eye of the librarians working that day and they’d selected it to put on the wall in the Children’s wing. Henry was oh so proud, his four-year-old heart filled with joy at getting to hang his art somewhere aside from their refrigerator door. It meant something to Emma, another example of her doing her best by her boy, and giving him all that she’d never had.

“There was a picture of you and Henry and this particular masterpiece in the Saturday Times.”

“Okay now how could you possibly know that?”

“Your neighbor, Mrs. Hubbard. She was very forthcoming, and she’d saved the article. Has it framed and everything.”

“You spoke to Mrs. H?” Emma asked completely bewildered, and Killian nodded. “And the library had it all this time?”

“Aye. In the archives. Nothing a few strategically planned favors couldn’t procure.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Emma said, letting the tears finally fall. This was all too much, but she was immediately comforted by the feel of Killian’s strong arms. His hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping some of the tears as he shook his head, his eyes full of earnest feeling and emotion.

“That’s where you’re wrong, love. You deserve every good thing the world over. I know it’s presumptuous for a man like me to ask for such a treasure, but I swear to you I’ll spend my life giving everything I can.”

“I already have everything. I have you, and Henry,” Emma said. “This is beautiful, but it’s nothing to you.”

Killian hummed out a sigh of contentment, but where Emma expected a kiss, she watched instead as he pulled back, reaching for something in his pocket. “I was hoping you’d feel this way. Makes this next part a bit less nerve wracking.”

In a smooth gesture, he pulled out a small black box and lowered to the ground. Watching Killian drop down to one knee here in the gardens, Emma felt totally adrift from all cares of the world. She was stunned and yet deeply aware that this had all been a long time coming. There was no doubt in her heart that she loved Killian, and she held no fear over taking this next step. This man had shown her for months that he genuinely cared for her and her son. He would move mountains for them, if only for a possibility of their happiness. He was selfless and loyal and true, and he made her brave, emboldening her to believe that the risk was worth it. Love was worth it. Still, it was shocking, to be adored so deeply, and to know that someone truly felt the world began and ended with her.

“Emma, I realize that this is perhaps soon by some standards, but believe me when I say that I have been aching to ask you this question since the moment we met.”  

More tears formed in her eyes, thinking back on that day. Her world had truly shifted in the span of one morning. There was a time before Killian, before romantic love that ever made her hopeful, and then there was more. It all started at the center, but it built well beyond those four walls. Knowing what she did now, she had to call their encounter what it had been – love at first sight. Maybe she hadn’t admitted it then, and surely she hadn’t said it aloud, but that is what transpired. She took one look at this man, this extraordinary, incredible man, and she was hooked, plain and simple.

“You amazed me then, that first day at the Institute. I didn’t realize anyone like you could truly be real, or that I was capable of forming an attachment with such strength. I had seen too much, I reasoned, knew the darkness of the world in ways that may leave me lacking for the rest of my days. I thought such chances at something halfway near normal were beyond me, but those first sparks between us proved me wrong. I was totally ensnared, caught in a web you couldn’t help for making, and still, that immediate response can’t compare to all I feel now. Knowing you – loving you – I am more certain each and every day that you hold my heart in your hand. I am yours, Emma. I have been yours, and I will remain yours all the days of my life.”

There was absolutely no chance at stopping from crying now, but the sensation was one of happiness. She was actually living a fairytale. Her, the once lost girl who never had a nickel to her name, or a friend to keep her going. She had survived the cruelest affairs of the heart. She had been so terribly and tragically alone, but she persisted, and she learned, through the grace of her son, and the courage of her convictions, to live. Now with Killian she was starting anew, building up the small life she’d shared with Henry into something much bigger. To say she was exited at the prospect was an understatement.

“Emma Swan, will you -,”

“I want to adopt Cecelia!” Emma said abruptly, blurting out a seemingly unrelated fact in the middle of what had been the most beautiful proposal. She was mortified, but only for a moment. Because the smile on Killian’s face calmed the storm inside her.

“Ah, right. You see, I had anticipated that, though in the interest of full disclosure I envisioned this part of the conversation after your reply to the proposal. Regardless, I offer you this, love.”

Emma watched as he juggled the ring and instinctively she took it, holding the box and sparing another glance at the absolutely beautiful band. Her fingers itched to put it on now, but she knew it would be so much better to let Killian do the honors. She then watched in amazement as he pulled out a series of papers from inside his jacket. He opened the file containing them all and showed her an application for adoption. The child in question was Cecelia, and the forms listed both Emma and Killian as petitioning guardians. Now she was completely overwhelmed. He knew every single part of her. Every hope. Every dream. He was perfect.

“Family is so much more than blood, Swan, as we both know, and I think we’ve known for sometimes that Cecelia will always be our princess.”

“Yes,” Emma whispered. Yes to everything, yes to all of it.

“I’ve also spoken to Henry, not intentionally per se, wanting to speak with you first, but it would mean the world to adopt him as well. I don’t know how you’d feel about that, but I-,”

“Yes,” she said again, this time with even more conviction.

“Yes?” he asked with a hopeful grin and she nodded. “Well in that case. May I, love?”

She handed him the papers which he put down beside them with care. Emma watched as he took the ring box back from her other hand. He settled down on bended knee again, preparing himself for another attempt at asking her to marry him. It took everything in her to bite her tongue and let him actually get the request out.

“Emma Swan, love of my life, light of my spirit, and queen of my heart, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

“Yes.”

Everything from there went quickly as he slipped the ring on her finger, tossing the box without care to the group. Killian was up at full height in mere moments, pulling her in for a scorching kiss and Emma was complete. It may not have been a totally according to plan proposal, but Emma believed what they had was even better, because it was real and true and filled with so much love. She could think of no better way to start a beautiful forever, and when they pulled back, resting their foreheads against each other and soaking in the moment, Emma let out a sigh of sheer relief. This was what they meant when they said happily ever after, and it was so very worth the wait.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy,” Emma murmured aloud.

“Neither have I,” an emotional voice said – only it wasn’t Killian. The voice continued. “Truly beautiful.”

“Gran,” Killian muttered shaking his head. Emma bit her lip and covered her mouth. They had absolutely just been caught out here, but when they both turned to see their unexpected audience, consisting of Killian’s family, Elsa and Anna, and Henry and Cecelia, a different person outside of all the rest, was revealed to be the culprit.

“You take that back, Killian, for you know better than that,” Gran said, standing beside a dressed up and dazzling looking Mrs. Hubbard. Mr. Hubbard was there too, his hand on Henry’s shoulder and his leg being held onto by a very friendly Cecelia. Emma never expected to see her dear, sweet neighbors. Their appearance here in Montenarro left her floored.

“My new friends are a treat, believe me,” Gran continued, walking forward, and seemingly giving everyone else the silent permission to do the same. “But their spying skills need work. I would never speak through such a moment, nor rustle these hedges with quite so much gusto. Not to worry though, they’ll learn.”

Everyone descended in that moment to wish them all well, but the most important reactions came from Henry and from Cecelia. The happiness of both of these kids – their kids – gave Emma tremendous joy and satisfaction. She was also thrilled to share this with their blended family, and with the friends who had become such strong bonds in her new life. After much congratulations, everyone returned to the party, and an announcement was made. If Emma believed the reaction to be enthusiastic from her loved ones, it was even bolder from all of the children at the center. Indeed, the happiness and infectious sense of hope made for the best party any of them had ever been to, and created an afternoon like none she’d ever experienced.

Hours later, Emma was still reeling from the high, and loving the fact that she and Killian had stayed together all day. He’d never let her go after her saying yes, always beside her, supporting her, adoring her, and loving her endlessly. She was so happy with him, but as the day drew to a close, her spirits dampened slightly. In his usual form, Killian caught on immediately.

“What’s the matter, love?” he asked, sure that no one else was listening, even though they were still amidst the party.

“Nothing,” Emma said automatically, though that was only half true. “This is one of the best days of my life. It’s just… the waiting…”

“Aye, I’ve considered that too. But I think I’ve arrived at a workable solution.” Emma looked at him curiously. “I will submit for a special license from the crown. The King and I are on decent terms you see.”

“Decent, huh?” Emma teased, looking over at Liam and finding him swaying with Elsa on a makeshift dance floor. There wasn’t even any music playing, but to this happy couple, and to the children dancing nearby, that didn’t matter in the slightest.

“He’s been in better spirits of late, as you might imagine.”

“Seems to be going around.”

“Mmm,” Killian hummed out, running his hand along her cheek and looking at her with sincerity and bliss. “We can have everything arranged in a week. It’ll be quite the undertaking, but the staff is up to the challenge.”

“A week?” Emma said, not believing it. Surely it must take longer than that, but she loved the idea. In truth, she’d marry him right now if she could. “Can we really do that?”

“Just say the word, Emma.”

“Yes,” she said nodding. “It’s crazy. Actually it’s totally insane, but yes, please, yes.”

“As you wish,” he replied kissing her again under the party lights and lighting her aflame once more. “In the meantime, I’ve no wish to be apart. We should be together, love, as long as that’s what you want.”

“I do.”

“Everything’s ready. I’ve been working for weeks on it. The rooms for Henry, for Cecelia, all of it. It’s merely a matter of moving your things in, all of which can be done tonight.”

“You’re serious?” Emma asked and he nodded.

“A magistrate’s already granted temporary custody for Cecelia. You can take her home now while the process continues. Please, love, say you’ll all come home to me.”

Emma looked over to Henry and to Cecelia, who were dancing together on the floor. Emma watched as her son already took so well to his new sister, and as if she’d conjured his attention, Henry glanced her way. He waved, a sign that Emma returned. Drawing attention to them set Cecelia in motion, and soon the little girl was dragging Henry across the party. Soon enough they were back together, the four of them a new but undoubtedly permanent unit. Cecelia jumped into Killian’s arms, and Henry came to Emma’s side looking up with his knowing expression.

“What’s up, Mom?” he asked and Emma smiled, unable to resist pulling him and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“How would you feel about moving to Killian’s house -,”

“Our house,” Killian stressed and Emma chuckled.

“Sorry, our house, tonight?”

“That would be awesome!” Henry said excitedly. “Can we do that?”

“Aye.”

“And me too?” Cecelia asked hopefully.

“Yes, honey, you too,” Emma said, brushing a stray curl from Cecelia’s face. The kids made their feelings known. They were in, totally and completely. “Well I guess we have our answer then.”

“Aye, love. The best of answers, all around.”

And so, later that night, when the festivities of the day had ended, and the children all departed, Emma and Killian, Henry and Cecelia all headed home together, enjoying their first night in a place that would always be theirs. And though Emma knew they were in for a crazy week of planning and party design, and wedding wildness, she was truly joyful. For this was a life beyond her wildest dreams, and she knew, deep down to her core, that it was going to be breathtaking.

Post-Note: So… what did you think? Personally, I found it SO cathartic to write this scene. It’s been such a long time coming and I have pictured this outcome for Emma and for Killian even before writing the first word of this story. Almost a year ago to the day this story came to me, and my hope is to write out the final chapter by the one year anniversary in early May. Hopefully it won’t take quite so long, but please know that it has been a joy to write this and share with all of you. I hope this chapter and this fic have brought some brightness to your world and some magic to your moment. This has been an insane time, but I’ve been grateful to share it with all of you. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed, and I’d love to hear what your hopes for the end of this story are. Until next time, wishing you all well and healthy and safe! xE.

[alderaani]

Jump

Summary: Fives and Echo are still settling into the rhythm of the 501st following the chaos of Rishi. Sometimes there are quiet moments where the only thing to do is share stories and wait.

A/N: I meant to get this little fic out for Halloween yesterday, but then it turned out to not be quite a little as I meant (story of my life). You can also read it on AO3 here, and the rest of the series on tumblr is here!

The stone echoed. Fives didn’t like it; didn’t like the way it amplified everything from the water dripping overhead to the sound of their tight breathing. It felt heavy, oppressive, casting a darkness so stifling that their headtorches only shone a small way into the gloom. The others were twitchy too, Echo pressing up into his side in a way he only did when he needed comfort. Fives knew without asking that they’d be sharing a bedroll that night, curling up tight like two cadets in a pod. He’d complain like he always did about his brother’s cold feet, but he’d be hanging on just the same. Neither of them were doing very well being underground again. Not after the tunnels of Rishi. Not after Cutup.

Even a small campfire would have gone a long way to soothing him, something just to put some warmth in his bones. He hated the way rock leeched it out of his body, greedily trying to fill its own never-ending well.

“Why d’you think we’re stopping here anyway?” Echo was speaking to Ridge, who was cleaning his blaster in slow, methodical strokes that Fives could tell were to steady his hands more than anything else. “We finished the mission, and there’s no sign of the Seps this far out.”

Ridge shrugged. “It happens a lot when we team up with the 212th, General Kenobi likes to explore, I think. Drives Commander Cody nuts. He said somethin’ about some old Jedi temple here.”

That would explain the old pillars they were camped between, and the creepy statues that always felt like they were watching. When it was lighter Fives had been able to see that they were half covered in moss, worn smooth and impassive with age. In the dark they loomed, just present enough through the black that it felt like they were leaning over his shoulder, the occasional gust of wind settling like breath on the back of his neck.

Knowing that they were Jedi-made should have been a comfort, but General Kenobi had stressed that they stay heavily armed down here, and after what Fives had seen his own general do in combat, he knew better than to assume this place would be harmless. Not to mention that they were kliks away from any known settlement, and the local fauna had already shown itself very willing to take a chunk out of the unsuspecting.

Echo’s armour creaked as he shifted, his hands twisting some old wiring together in his lap. Fives had noticed that he liked fiddling with it in their spare moments, and had taken to collecting pieces himself to slip into Echo’s utility belt.

“Really? I didn’t realise the Jedi came so far out. What he’s looking for?”

Ridge laughed, but it wasn’t unkind. “I dunno, vod’ika, I don’t try to understand Jedi poodoo. You’ll have to ask him yourself. ‘Spect it’ll be dusty though, and trapped to the gills. A word of advice – stick tight to your squad in there.”

Fives let out a breath and glanced nervously over his shoulder at the statues and the maw of the stairs between them, slithering up the rockface into the black. “Traps? Why would they karking trap a temple?”

Ridge shrugged. “Fett knows why, but they’re usually a nightmare to get through.”

Nax and Attie had been talking close by, reduced to two ghostly white shapes, but now they broke off and leaned into the little circle of light pooling round their headlamps.

“Aw c’mon Ridge, them Jedi are full of secrets,” Attie said, grinning. “Who knows what weird osik they left behind in here, they wouldn’t want just anyone puttin’ their grubby hands on it. Keeps the wrong people out, right?”

“Oh yeah? That why you keep puttin’ yours on things every time we go in one?”

Attie shrugged, unrepentant. “I’m just bein’ thorough.”

Ridge rolled his eyes. “We’re supposed to avoid the traps, di’kut, not set them off! The generals ain’t gonna thank you if you’re dead in a pit somewhere.”

Fives cast his eyes around, frowning, his spine going stiff. “There’s still a patrol out there. What if they run into somethin’?”

Nax waved him off, stretching lazily. “Ah, don’t worry yourself, rookie. Denal knows better than to step anywhere he shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, worry about yourself,” Attie said, grinning wolfishly. “Who knows, you could be sittin’ right on top of one.”

Fives shifted uncomfortably as Attie chuckled, not faltering even when Nax drove an elbow into his gut.

“Don’t tease the vod’ike,” Nax muttered, never one prone to draw attention to himself if he could help it. “Unless you want me to tell ‘em about the first time you got brought on one of Kenobi’s little ‘research trips’.”

Attie put his hands up in surrender as Ridge laughed and shook his head.

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that. Didn’t you –“

“Hey,” Attie grumbled. “I’m shutting up. You gotta let me have some reputation, Ridge.”

“It’s too late for that, they’ve already met you –“

There was the sound of a fist colliding with plastoid, then squawks mixed with laughter. After a brief scuffle they all settled back down into silence, and Fives tried to focus on the little intricate wire tangle that Echo was weaving between his hands, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. He found he couldn’t stop his mind wandering, fixating on all those winding tunnels in the dark. The more he thought about it the more he could feel the vast expanse of the rock over their heads, the deep belly of the earth opening beneath them. He tightened his hand over his thigh, just shy of his blaster, and contented himself by drumming his fingers against his armour. It wouldn’t be so bad if only there was light, but the clouds were as dense as ever and the cliff face stole what little might have been left.

Just as he was beginning to relax, he heard something, a slight scuffling right on the edge of hearing.

“What was that?” he asked harshly, closing his hand around his weapon so tightly his knuckles hurt.

“What was what?” Echo stilled instantly apart from a small jolt that Fives knew meant he was tilting his head, listening. The others had all gone quiet too, but after a second Ridge snorted.

“I don’t hear anythin’. Don’t let Attie rattle you, kid.”

Fives made a harsh sound in his throat as the noise came again, closer, followed by the scrape of something against rock.

“I’m tellin’ you, there’s somethin’ out there.”

They all paused again for several long seconds, and Fives knew when Echo had also heard the sound, because he went rigid. Fives didn’t breathe, listening to the sound of something dragging itself towards them. All he could think about was the memory of walking down a stone ridge and saying “watch out for the eels”, before hearing his batchmate scream. He curled a hand around Echo’s back, getting ready to shove him to the ground if needs be.

After half a minute Ridge sighed and hauled himself to his feet. “Look, I’ll go check it out, don’t get your armour in a twist.”

Fives watched him disappear into the gloom as the rest of the group muttered, a collection of disembodied voices and floating lights. A moment later there was a loud squeak, the sound of a safety switch flicking off, and then a bright, searing bolt of blue.

Then there was a sizzling sound.

Then there was silence.

“All clear, it was just a rat,” Ridge’s voice called out. “Kriffin’ big one, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think we were in mortal peril. You’re a jumpy batch of shinies, ain’t you?”

Fives felt his chest clench, his face going hot as the rest of the squad laughed. His hand automatically went up to grab the scruff of Echo’s neck before he could start another fight he couldn’t finish. They weren’t a batch, not anymore, just the remnants of one – and therein lay the problem. He could feel his twin practically vibrating next to him.

“Sorry, Ridge. Better to be safe than sorry, right?” His voice was just a little too tight to be believable, but thankfully nobody called him out on it.

Ridge came ambling back and sat himself down, and there was a long stretch of silence before someone spoke again. To Fives’ surprise, this time it was Echo.

“Say, Attie? Tell me more about these temples? They’re all really old, right?”

There were a few groans, Fives’ included, but Attie’s armour ground together as he gamely leant in again. “Think so. General Kenobi said somethin’ about centuries, at least.”

“You know, I think I’ve read about ancient places,” Echo said, which made Fives raise his eyebrows, because Echo usually selected his reading material the same way he liked to approach their missions – directly, and with a clear point. “’Specially abandoned ones. Some people say that dead things sometimes…linger.”

“The hell you talkin’ about, kid?” Ridge asked.

“S’just what I’ve heard,” Fives could feel Echo shrug. “Especially in old Jedi places. Did you know that they used to be in a war with some bad Jedi? Went on for hundreds of years, nearly tore the galaxy apart. Some real bad blood between ‘em. Apparently, that makes for a lotta angry ghosts.”

“Ah, you’re pullin’ our legs,” Attie said with a laugh, but to Fives’ ears it sounded a little strained. He could feel his own skin crawling, but something still felt a little off about the whole situation. It was Echo, he realised after a moment; the ramrod straight position he was sitting in. He usually only held himself like that when he was sniping and lining up a shot. Where was he going with this?

“I’m only passin’ on what I’ve read.” Echo said. “Was real interestin’ though. The temples have always been worst for it, ‘cause they used to get attacked all the time by bad Jedi. Every time someone died it left an imprint in the force, and sometimes you can see ‘em standin’ there still, like they were in the seconds before they got cut down. Sometimes they even scream. One account said some guy went scavengin’ and felt like someone was followin’ him the whole time. He wasn’t sure at first...but then his torch kept goin’ out. He replaced the charge: same thing. So then all he had was candle light, and it kept gutterin’ as he moved from room to room, like someone kept breathin’ on it. Could’ve just been the wind right? But here’s the thing – there wasn’t any.”

As if summoned, there was a sudden gust of air through the narrow ravine they were camped in. Fives heard a shiver ripple through their seated brothers, a clattering of plastoid.

“Then,” Echo continued, his voice hushed. “As he tried to look for the vault, he swore he could hear voices, muffled like they were just around the corner. He called, and he called, and told them to show themselves, but there was no answer. Just the slow, creepin’ knowledge that he was bein’ followed, and that it weren’t friendly. As he made his way through to the old vaults the feelin’ got stronger, and stronger. Doors kept slammin’ shut, and things kept trippin’ him, pullin’ on his clothes. He thought about turnin’ back – but he was so close.”

Echo paused, letting his words hang in the air for several long seconds.

“An’ then what?” Nax asked, his voice a little breathless.

“Nobody knows. The rest of his travellin’ group had waited outside, and according to them, all they heard was his scream. And when they went into the temple to find him, he was curled up dead by the entrance, stone cold to the touch. Like he’d been there for hours. No mark on him, no blood, just a look of terror on his face and some words at the bottom of his notes, not written in his own hand: get out.”

Echo lapsed into silence, and this time it was permeating. Attie sucked in a breath, deafening in the quiet.

“That’s a whole lotta osik, vod.”

“Maybe. But General Kenobi wants us armed in there, you said it yourself. You ever wondered why?”

More silence, but in it, Fives could pick out the sounds of people’s fingers tapping on armour, the sounds of sharp breathing and rustles as they shifted. Echo had rattled ‘em, good and proper.

“Hey, what was that?” Someone’s voice whispered suddenly. “I – I can hear footsteps.”

Fives could hear it too, a rhythmical beat that was getting closer.

“W-Who’s there?” Ridge barked, getting to his feet with one hand on his blaster. When there was no answer, there was a resounding sea of clicking as the others all copied him. “Show yourself!”

“Easy vod, it’s just us!”

Ridge cursed as the patrol came into view around the corner, flooding their seated brothers with light. Denal was at point and took off his helmet, shaking his head in mystification as several clones put their blasters away and sank down with a groan.

“It’s quiet as the grave out there, the hell’s got you spooked?”

As Ridge fumbled for an explanation, Fives felt Echo start shaking next to him, and with a jolt realised that he was laughing. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“You made all of that up, didn’t you?” Fives breathed, feeling a grin spread over his face. “You kriffin’ liar.”

Echo laughed softly in the dark, just the edge of his smile illuminated by his torch. He knocked their shoulders gently together, satisfied by a job well done.

“Hey, it’s not my fault they’re a jumpy batch of shinies.”

taglist // @leias-left-hair-bun @nelba @bad-batch-of-fics @iscream4clones @majorshiraharu // if you’d like to join, link is here!

[fallowdoe]

All roads lead to hell

MC gets kidnapped and has to make their way through Hell to reunite with everyone.

GN!reader x everyone (can be treated as platonic/romantic)

Trigger warnings for this chapter: touchy religious themes, death

I apologise for the quality of writing however this is a translated version of my fic.

If anyone is interested in that I was listening to Dr. Fletcher and the World, the whole Split soundtrack is my big inspiration for this story. I’d advise onto playing it in the background while reading.

Tags: @kashasenpai​ @lamemexicant​ @lana0937

⇐  Chapter 3 - The Door  ⇒

”Limbo?” They stuttered.

The man in front of them had a soothing look on his face. Something about being in his presence felt incredibly calming. A warm, gentle light was radiating from behind him.

”Limbo is the first circle of Hell. We’re in the castle which houses the seven gates.” His silvery voice echoed through the building.

”Circle… You mean Dante?” Something about the stranger felt almost familiar. 

MC couldn’t exactly tell why but their gut was telling them that he was trustworthy. It was almost like he radiated all of that calmness.

”Something like this.” He smiled.

”But I don’t understand. Why am I here? What happened?” They rambled. ”And… and who are you?”

Only now they noticed that the way he was dressed resembled how Luke and Simeon did. The stranger had light-brown braided hair and was quite tall. His silhouette seemed to be entailed with light. White and golden robes were sprawled around his feet.

”My name is Micheal. I hope I did not startle you.” He gave them a kind smile.

”I don’t think I could be anymore scared.”

”I am terribly sorry that we meet in these circumstances.” He spoke softly while gazing at them. ”And even more – I am sorry that you are here.” He gestured around the hall.

They took a quick glance across the room but it was empty. On the other hand, the conversations didn’t stop filling their ears. All the words flowing through the room were a little distracting but now the knowledge of their origin lifted their spirit up a bit. Every single information about this place seemed to ease their mind and slowly all the puzzles were coming together.

”I… I keep hearing voices. Who are they?” The fright filling their voice made the man scrunch his eyebrows. This shouldn’t be happening and he couldn’t fix it which filled him up with frustration.

”You can hear souls who reside here. They for a change only can see you. I imagine it must be confusing for you, however, I need you to focus now. This is the castle of seven gates, each one of them represents one of the seven heavenly virtues.” He explained. ”I have no idea who or why brought you here but I will do everything I can to help you get out.”

”How do I return to Devildom? To them?” They spoke quietly. Their throat was sore from all the previous sobbing.

MC was to occupied to think about it previously but now they realized that everyone must’ve already noticed that they’re gone. Mammon and Beel probably searched for them after they didn’t come back. They weren’t sure how much time had passed but it must’ve been at least a few hours. Were they looking for them? Would they save them? Mammon was probably blaming himself…

”You will have to go through all nine circles of Hell to reach Devildom.” He said after a second.

”Me? Alone? But that’s impossible! Isn’t there another way? Maybe Lord Diavolo can help me? Or Lucifer? Or anyone?” They pleaded with a shaky voice.

”If it was an option I would’ve notified them immediately. Despite our… personal conflicts, your safety remains an important matter to me as an angel.”

Having a random human sent to limbo was… unusual and definitely not in his favour. Wherever they would go after their death, their presence here was concerning. No human had a key to the first circle, therefore the perpetrator must’ve been a powerful demon. But why send a living human here? Unless it wasn’t a random pick…

”But… How am I even supposed to do that?!” MC’s question brought him back from his thoughts.

”Follow me. I’ll show you.” He stepped further into the chamber with MC following, the orbs peacefully floated behind them. ”You see if there existed a possibility of having anyone help you I promise you’d be back to Devildom already. But there isn’t. I can only go as far as the first circle since this is the heavenly castle. But next levels… Nobody but souls are capable of going there. I can’t take you to purgatory or any other realm, so you are trapped in Hell. The only way seems to be going down, through all nine circles. Then you’d be able to reach Devildom.” Fear filled them again as he spoke. ”I don’t want to be dishonest with you MC…” Micheal hesitated. ”Crossing the nine circles is no easy task. It’s almost impossible.” He watched their face darken. ”I will provide some aid, but I can’t do much.” He trailed off. In all of his angelic glory and power, now, in front of a terrified human, he had to admit that he couldn’t help them. It wasn’t fair for them to be here.

”What am I supposed to do?” They took a deep breath trying to steady themselves.

In front of them rose a giant glass door.

”Nothing. Like it has never happened.” Solomon concluded. He and Satan just arrived at Diavolo’s castle after checking RAD multiple times. They cast countless spells to help them find at least a single trace, but all for nothing.

”That’s impossible. Surely, no one is capable of magic this powerful that it leaves no trace.” Lucifer was quick to argue. He sighed and scrunched his face, a headache was troubling him for a few hours now.

”If you want to you can go see yourself. I’d rather not waste any more time on what we already know. RAD was empty. There are no traces or trails of anything. We better start searching for a solution rather than the cause.” Satan’s temper was getting better of him. He couldn’t believe how easily Lucifer was taking the whole situation. His worry seemed to only go as far as the exchange programme did, when everyone else, including Diavolo, was genuinely concerned for heir friends wellbeing.

”How are you expecting to find a one if we have no idea what is going on?” Lucifer was beginning to gro irritated as well as if Satan’s attitude towards him was any help.

”Have you found that spellbook?” Solomon interrupted them.

”Not yet, we already checked most of the library.”

”I could cast a searching spell.” He offered. ”That could speed up the search.”

”In here? Absolutely not.”

”Then you do it, Lucifer. Stop wasting time.” Satan hissed.

”What is your problem?”

”The problem is that you don’t give a shit about this whole situation! You don’t care about anything besides your work! You don’t care about MC or anyone else!”

”And what exactly is giving you such an impression?!”

”You have done absolutely nothing to help! Even Mammon’s worrying is more helpful than your prideful ass telling everyone to calm down! Now excuse me, I’m going to actually do something which will hopefully bring them back! It appears so that no one else will!” With that Satan stormed out of the room and left the castle.

”Shall we help with the search?” Solomon didn’t comment on their argument.

”Come.” Lucifer turned around and lead the way.

The library was settled underneath the castle. An enormous, round chamber was filled with many levels of bookshelves serving as its walls. Ladders and stairs were connecting the floors. Thousands of colourful volumes were lit up by candlelight generated by a spell. A crystal chandelier shone high up from the ceiling. Underneath there was a big, round table filled with tons of volumes and papers.

Solomon whistled at the sight. ”Impressive.”

”Indeed.” Diavolo agreed. He was standing next to the table and browsing through books laid on it. Every each one of them seemed to be a higher grimoire. Some must’ve been older than the demon himself. ”Spellbooks, grimoires, magic volumes from all across the three realms.”

”Alexandria?”

”A few. Why do you think we’re underground?” He answered not lifting his eyes from the book he was currently holding.

”Have you found anything?” Lucifer sighed.

”We have our suspicions.” Barbatos approached them carrying more books. Some floated behind him. ”Were any traces found at RAD?”

”No. It’s completely empty. If not for Mammon and Beel witnessing the charge we wouldn’t even know anything happened.” The sorcerer spoke while studying the items on the table. He noticed a few familiar covers. Single sheets of paper with magic circles on them took most of his attention.

Lucifer listened to them but the growing pain was too much of a distraction. He took a glance at Diavolo who put down the book he was holding. His gaze fell empty on the table as the Demon Lord must’ve been lost in his thoughts. He wondered who was this even possible that of all people, he, the future ruler of this realm didn’t know what went down at his own academy. Hell, it wasn’t that MC wasn’t already endangered just by being in the Devildom, but someone actually daring to do something like this and not being afraid of facing wraith of all of them… That, someone, was confident enough to do this…

”Lucifer?” The sound of Solomon’s voice brought him back. Everyone was looking at him, he must’ve got lost in his thoughts.

”Yes?”

”We were just discussing the possibility of reaching MC through the pacts they have with you and your brothers.”

”That would require a lot of preparations.” Barbatos mentioned. ”MC isn’t familiar enough with magic, they might not pick up the contact at all.”

”Either way I don’t think we have much choice here. Unless we find out more about the spellcaster or MC’s location we can’t do anything more. All we know is that they never left our realm and that they are alive.” Diavolo exclaimed. It wasn’t as obvious but his hands were tied there. He genuinely had no clue what could have happened to his exchange student. It was almost as if he was reminding himself that they have at least some information about them and their wellbeing.

”I’ll begin the preparations immediately.” Solomon confirmed.

”We have most of the ingredients and items needed for it here.” Barbatos mentioned. ”Should we go and get them?”

”Yes, once we’re ready we’ll fetch everyone and try our shot on it.” Diavolo decided.

Mammon was laying on his bed and gazing at the ceiling for an hour now. His empty eyes were trying to memorise every single curve, colour or shadow on it. He couldn’t stop thinking about them anyway, about how he failed everyone and how it was his fault. He was the one to protect them, and he was the one to lose them. What was he even thinking? It was so obvious that they weren’t safe by themselves! That’s the reason why he was meant to be there! To prevent such things from happening! His fists balled and his breathing was getting quicker as all these thoughts were spilling from him, the sadness and sorrow were marking the white sheets.

After Lucifer, Solomon and Satan left he couldn’t figure out what to do. The guilt overflowing him with every second was making him choke. He wanted to help. He wanted to help but he had no idea what to do. He wanted to help so badly. So he took their textbook and said he’ll put it in their room. He wanted to do something.

He didn’t even notice that he went to his room instead. So now the textbook was somewhere on his bed. He just tossed it onto it, angry that he couldn’t focus enough to do something so small.

The bed creaked softly when he moved to get it. He turned around and there they were. Laying next to him and scrolling through their D.D.D. Smiling at something they saw. He stopped and just looked at them with his eyes wide open. His hand slowly reached towards them.

”Mammon, check this out.” Their voice sounded so soothing. They handed him the device.

But when he looked down it was the textbook that they were holding. When he looked up they were gone. A plain sheet of paper slipped from between the pages and feel onto the sheets.

”This is the gate to the next circle. Lust – the second one out of nine.”

”What is it like?” They breathed out.

”Souls of those who reside there are… not peaceful at all. They’re serving a sentence I’m not sure what will you have to do to cross it but I know it’s possible.” His words echoed. ”I have no knowledge of what they actually look like, you’ll have to be prepared for the worst. Staying alert is crucial here, don’t let anything distract you.” His expression was pained.

”I want you to be honest with me. How hard is it actually? What chances do I have?” They were too numb to cry more.

”I don’t have enough knowledge to tell you this MC. It’s behind this door where the real hell is. I can only wish you luck.”

”Okay.” They whispered and tried to steady their breathing. ”I’ll go in.”

Mammon put down the textbook and instead lifted up the paper.

”It’ll be hard, no doubt. But it’s not impossible.” He reminded them as the door opened. Behind them was pitch black void. ”I’m sorry MC. I’m sorry that it happened to you.”

His words faded behind them as they stepped into the abyss.

”Lucifer! Where’s Lucifer!” Mammon screamed barging into the living room.

”Why are you screaming? He’s still at Lord Diavolo’s castle.” Asmo glared at him.

Him, Beel and Belphie were doing their own research while waiting for others to return. Leviathan left earlier mumbling something about marine. Sprawled across the floor were random books that they found in Satan’s room and the library.

”Solomon was wrong!” He almost cried out. ”That paper ain’t empty! Look at it!”

He carefully passed the sheet to his brother. It was now covered in different glowing patterns.

”Fuck…” Belphegor mumbled. ”Those are pretty complicated spells and summoning phrases.”

”We should go to meet others immediately.” Beel spoke.

Asmo scrunched his eyebrows. Something was oddly familiar about the patterns, but he couldn’t decipher them. ”Let’s go then.” He said and marched out of the room.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

tapestry 👑 XVIII

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The reader struggles.

Note: Bienvenue power bottoms. So hopefully I can post another chapter on xmas eve then have my day off from everything while I slave over a turkey dinner :) I work straight through the week with the exception of xmas itself and I’m hoping y’all are enjoying it. Also sorry about tags. I can’t really keep up bc I have no other time and these are usually queued to go up when I work and I don’t tag in original posts because they don’t work.

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

masterlist

The trial stretched beyond a fortnight. The council called a dozen more witnesses to the stand as they examined both the queen’s behaviour and her alleged role in the poisoning. 

Several stablehands testified to her role in your injury, another half dozen kitchen servants were called to answer for the preparation of the king’s tainted breakfast, and Eleanor’s own personal servants were questioned on her marriage. They all reaffirmed the story being laid out so perfectly against her.

With each day, you found yourself more on edge. As you listened to the witnesses, as you thought of the last night you’d spoken to the queen, of her earnest pleas, you found yourself watching her. You prayed, against all that faced her, that she would not meet that most final and cruel fate. For if she did, you could not help but feel your hand in it.

That day was no different. Your chest felt tight and you found it hard to breathe as you entered the courtroom. You were exhausted of being there. The room must have been as grim as the cell they kept Eleanor in. The light that glowed through the stained glass was blinding and near torturous. The seat was hard and unforgiving beneath your skirts. The air was suffocating. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand it.

The room went silent as the cardinal stood and announced the commencement of proceedings. Ellis stood and lingered by the bench for a moment. He bent to hear whatever slithering words your father whispered in his ear. Your shoulders slumped as they called for Eleanor and the door opened; the usual whine of hinges that mourned her each day.

She stood at the podium and her blonde hair shone in the morning light. She wore another white gown as she resumed her vigil. Ellis approached his own perch and unwrapped his paper from his leather folder. He took his time as if to rile the queen; as if to draw the audience to impatience.

“Your holy cardinals, your highnesses, your grace,” He addressed each figurehead with a nod. “Today we would call a most important witness to stand and hope that this case is even closer to its conclusion. We have tarried here for long and I know we do grow weary but we must not leave a stone unturned.”

All in the room seemed to squirm at Ellis’ words. All were tired of his airy words and prolonging tangents. They were eager to reach the end of it; if not to be free of the courtroom but to see how it would all come together. Though it was not difficult to surmise how it would end.

“So today, we call a witness who did find herself at the mercy of the queen’s wrath and one of only a few witnesses to the attempted murder of King Steven.” Ellis spoke flatly but his voice built; almost excited. “The court shall call upon the youngest daughter of Malford.”

Slowly, the audience turned and craned on the benches to look at you. You blinked, stunned. You were certain you’d imagined the announcement. How could they call you without warning? How could they call you to testify on a queen who had outrightly declared herself your enemy? How could they expect you to do anything more than you already had?

“Lady,” Marion nudged you and you looked to her dumbly. “They call on you.”

You just stared at her and shook your head. She took your elbow and stood. She pulled you to your feet as you latched onto her wrist.

“Please,” You whispered. “Please, I can’t.”

She looked at you startled. Sad, even. “You must.” She peeled your fingers from around her wrist and squeezed your hand. “I can’t go with you.”

You trembled and raised your head. You glanced around at the benches and then to the cardinals and royals. All watched you intently; with untethered expectation. You grabbed your skirts and held your breath as you walked along the row to the aisle. 

You descended to the floor where the queen stood across from Ellis and the judges loomed in their box opposite the other. You passed behind the queen as you went to the witness stand and stepped up to the podium. You let out a long exhale and released your skirts.

“My lady, do you swear to the truth entirely and without censor before these cardinals and before our lord in this court of the See?” Ellis asked.

You glanced over at the queen. Her face was set in a cool mask as she refused to acknowledge you. Your eyes floated up to the box where the king sat. He sat with his shoulders set and stared you down. You lowered your chin and cleared your throat. Finally, you found the strength to lift your head again.

“I do.” You said as firmly as you could. “Though I do not promise I can offer any truth you shall find convenient.”

“Very well, my lady, you need only be honest with the court,” Ellis replied and flipped the paper before him before turning it back. “What is your relationship with King Steven?”

You were shocked by the question. Your head pulsed as the words returned to you; ‘Do not let yourself fall into the same trap.’ You gulped and focused on Ellis. Don’t look at the kings or the cardinals, just stand and tell the truth.

“I did serve his wife, Queen Eleanor, for two years past,” You said. “But our relationship has been strictly as any king’s would be with any unwed lady.”

“And your relationship with Eleanor? What is, or was, that like?”

“I sat among her ladies and found her to be a most generous queen. She was ever kind to me…” You pressed your hands flat to your skirts as they began to sweat. 

“Generous? Kind? How was it then that she came to rig your saddle upon a hunt and nearly maim you as a result?” Ellis intoned. “That does not seem to fit your description of her demeanour.”

“She was those things until a point,” You admitted. “But I never did see her as entirely cruel, only… hurt.”

“Hurt? And why should she be hurt by the daughter of an earl who for two years has gone unnoticed and unaffected?” Ellis asked sharply. “Did it perhaps relate to the king’s favour for you?”

“It might have. Surely, it did for she did say it,” You said. “But I could not blame her.”

“You would not blame her? Is that because your relationship with the king was more than just a lady and king’s acquaintance should be?”

“No, no,” You shook your head. “It was never more than propriety should permit but…” You looked at the queen.

“But…?” Ellis led and you shrugged as you looked forward again. “How was it you came to favour with the king?”

“I suppose he enjoyed my company,” You answered plainly. “But I did warn him of the circumstance. I did remind him that I was a lady who did seek a proper and true marriage.”

“And so there never came to be anything untoward between you and the king?” Ellis prompted.

“If you ask if I was his mistress, I can attest the answer is no. If you ask if I did seek to distract him from his wife, the answer is no.” You stated bluntly. “I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be stood here opposite this woman in such a circumstance. I never wanted her to guide her husband towards me or to have such attentions grow so dubious.

“If you ask if I believe the queen to be malicious, I do not. If you ask if I believe her to have attempted to intimidate me thereafter, I do, but I do not believe her to have done so with the intent of true harm.” You frowned at Ellis as he tapped his fingers on his podium. “If you ask if I think she should face such dire consequences and be cast out, I do not. I do not wish this upon any.”

There was a stir from the benches and flurry of whispers. You didn’t move. You didn’t look behind you or beside you. 

“And when you say she guided her husband towards you, what do you mean?” Ellis pondered.

“I…” You began.

“Did Eleanor intend to lead Steven to adultery?” He asked.

“I don’t… I don’t know what she intended.” You rasped.

“But you say she guided him? How do you know she did? Or is this a supposition?”

You blanched and peeked at the queen. Her brow wrinkled as her eyes bored into the stained glass.

“Did she ever tell you of such intents?” Ellis prodded.

You looked back to him and let your shoulders slump. “Yes,” You breathed. “She did suggest to me that she was unhappy with the king’s former mistress and she wished him to be more modest in his affairs.”

“His affairs? And what proof did she have of these affairs?”

“I don’t know.” You swallowed. “The court spoke of them.”

“Rumours? The same which would paint you in the same light though you uphold your virtue?”

“I… Yes, I suppose they would be rumours.”

“And so it would not be ridiculous to assume that Eleanor intended to defame Steven? That she, perhaps, sought to deflect the guilt from herself?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it true, my lady, that Eleanor did banish you from court?” Ellis continued, unfazed.

“She did.” You affirmed.

“And why did she do this?”

“I do not know. Because she did not like the king’s attentions towards me.”

“But you did not indulge her ploy?”

“I did not. I never attended the king without a witness and I never did seek him out,” You said.

“And so she was unhappy that you did not take the role she assigned you in her attempts to disparage Steven?”

“She might have been but I cannot say with certainty.”

“So would you still call Eleanor kind and generous?”

“I… I… don’t know.” You grasped your skirts tightly. 

“My lady, you are distressed? Why?” Ellis dropped the paper in his hand.

“Because I was unaware that I should stand here today. Because I never thought to answer these questions as such.” You hung your head and exhaled. “Because I never wanted to cause anyone else so much grief.”

“But if this should be the truth, then you should not have been the cause of all this grief.” Ellis argued. “And you needn’t feel so bad for saying it. It is the truth, isn’t it?”

“I can’t lie,” You raised your head. “I could not and I fear that has been the cause of all this.”

“And do you think then, that should Eleanor’s attempt to poison Steven and yourself had been successful, it would’ve been earned because you did evade her will?”

“N-no,” You winced. “No, I only think she felt as any woman would have.”

“And would you, in a similar situation, have turned to such a final resolution?”

“No, b-but I do not… I don’t…” You blinked as your eyes burned. “I do not wish to see Eleanor harmed. I stand here and I do not wish her ill, as I do not think she wished it on me. Not in so much as this court would infer. I only think she was angry and her pride wounded. I cannot forsake her when I never believe she did the same to me.”

“So, if you do not believe it was Eleanor who poisoned you, who would have motive to do so?” Ellis continued.

You opened your mouth than closed it. “I… the king has a taster for the very purpose that poison is a danger. I suppose there would be many unseen enemies.”

“But should those enemies also wish to affect you? Who else could seek to act against both the king and yourself?”

“I… I…” You sputtered and shook your head. You looked at Eleanor, her eyes were downcast. Her veneer had softened. She looked vulnerable as a rainbow glinted off her pale skin and ivory dress. “I don’t know.”

“And you have heard the testimony of this trial? Of the servants who swore to the queen’s orders and her own hand in the act of treason? Do you think that your belief in the queen should disprove their accounts of the events?”

You peered around desperately. The cardinals watched you with vacant interest and the three figures in the kings’ box leaned forward eagerly to hear you. Steven’s eyes were crinkled with blatant intrigue. His lips threatened to curve.

“I suppose… No.” You said softly. 

“My lady, do not blame yourself. You are young and naive, but you have behaved most admirably in your circumstance. Your innocence has led you to misjudge the queen and we cannot hold that against you.” Ellis pontificated as a priest would at confession. “How can we condemn a young lady such as yourself who did hold herself to the upright standards of morality when she was surrounded by such misconduct?”

You were silent. You reached to the podium to brace yourself as you felt like to crumple.

“My lady, we thank you for your honesty this day. We commend your comportment in these matters and we do hope that we can seek for you and all those who have been affected justice and truth.” Ellis ran his fingers along the sides of his papers until they were straight. “You may step down.”

You stood stunned. You didn’t move until you sensed a figure beside you. A guard in mail beckoned you down from the stand and helped you down from the shallow platform. The audience was rapt as they watched you retreat from the stage and as you approached the benches, they all stood. As you walked along the aisle, they bowed their heads.

You walked carefully along the bench and resumed your seat beside Marion. The people sat and Marion touched the back of your hand. Your fingers were curled around the fabric of your skirts. You sat stiffly as you tried to see through the blur which rose in your vision.

“My lady,” Marion whispered, “You did well.”

👑

That night was the most restless you had ever known. Even those days before your debut at court, you had never been so unsettled. Eleanor's face stained your mind and kept you awake. The king's too.

When at last you gave up and rose, you dressed in the dark. An old plain gown without a corset beneath. You pulled a cloak over your shoulder and slipped your feet into a pair of slippers. You hid your hair beneath the loose hood of the cloak. You lit a lamp and held it aloft.

You tiptoed to the doors and pulled one open. You were greeted by the mailed guard who stood outside as he turned to look at you. He didn't say a word, only held out his arm to block your way.

"I only wish to go for a walk," You said. "I cannot sleep."

He stared at you and squinted. You saw him weigh his thoughts. He slowly lowered his arm and nodded. 

"I will follow." He stated. "As my duty would have me."

"Very well," You allowed. "Though I don't know that my enemies lurk in the night but rather stand proudly in the light."

He did not reply. He merely waited until you stepped out and pulled shut the door behind you. You set off along the corridor and he kept a pace back. The light of the lantern formed a small halo around you. Your slippers padded on the stone as the guards boots echoed loudly behind you.

You’d never walked the corridors so late. You wondered if perhaps it was wise to. Your doubt quickly passed as your mind returned to the day’s events; your turn at the stand; the way your heart plummeted when you thought of the queen’s expression. As if she had realized something but was too afraid to truly face it.

You walked without heed to direction. You were certain you made more than one circle before straying in your reverie. You stopped before the dark corridor. Bleak and vacant. You raised your lantern as you crept along the offshoot and turned to look up at the tapestry that hung from a peg high on the wall.

The rosettes were colourful in the lamplight, even as shadows drowned in their creases. You shuddered as you felt a draft around your neck. You leaned and reached to pinch a rosette between your fingers. The very one you’d sewn that day months ago. You tugged at it until the thread snapped and it unraveled in your hand. The red silk looked like blood as it rippled over your palm.

Your guard snapped to attention and his blade whispered against its sheath. You stood straight and looked along the corridor from behind him. The footsteps came clearer and he drew his steel entirely. A shadow appeared at the mouth of the hallway. It held a glowing orb.

“Who goes there?” The guard readied his sword. The shadow approached as the light distorted its features.

“It is only me,” Lord Barnes angled his candle away from his face. He stopped short as he spotted you behind the guard. “You would allow the lady to wander at night?”

“I have been told to keep watch over her,” The guard replied plainly. “And I have done that. She is safe with me.”

“We have many visitors in the castle. Many unknown faces.” Barnes said. “Harder to recognize in the dark.”

“And should I worry of those who do lurk in the dark?” You stepped up beside the guard.

“Some,” Barnes replied. “Though not all.”

“Not all?” You countered.

“Yes, surely none should fear you.” He chided.

“I only wander, my lord, to soothe my wandering mind,” You assured him. “I do not seek out trouble.”

“You need not seek it out to find it.” He grinned and the candle caught his sapphire like eyes. “I was only upon my way from a late night meeting. The trial does extend one day into the next.”

“So it does.” You agreed and rubbed the red silk with your thumb. His eyes flicked to the subtle movement. He squinted then nodded in recognition. He leaned over to glance behind you through the black.

“We can wish away the past but we can not unravel the threads of time,” He mused. “Do you wander or do you find yourself trapped and seek to find the way out?”

You hung your head and brought the fabric closer to examine it. The wrinkles of its former twists marred the smooth silk. The lines could not be steamed or ironed out. They would remain after so long restrained.

“How the time does seem to pass so slowly and yet so quickly.” You said and tucked away the fabric. “And this night does wane in kind.”

“My lady,” He stepped closer, but not too close, and your guard clinked his sword against the stone. “You cannot undo what is done. You would only torture yourself by dwelling on it.”

“This court is all so eager to forget. To sweep aside what was and for what?”

“You think too much.”

“Or not enough. Perhaps if I had thought more, I’d not be in this position.”

“Or perhaps you’d be in worse.” He breathed. “You cannot save her, but you can save yourself.”

“And what do you care?” You challenged.

He shrugged. “I’ve seen women come and go. Now I should see the one I never thought to see gone on her way out. And I see you and I foresee the same. But I also see another end. A better one which you might attain should you learn from those who came before. Should you use that which the other women never had to your favour.”

“Which would be?”

“His love. You might not believe it to be such but it is as close as he’ll ever know,” He said. “Foster it. Nurture it. For if you appease his heart, you do assure your fate.”

You shook your head and the lamplight wavered and cast shadows over him. “Why do you say this to me?”

“Because I do not relish the thought of seeing you in Eleanor’s place,” He said as he stood straight. “In fact, I think I might fear that as much as you.”

You stared at him in the firelight. He wasn’t the sardonic lord or staunch advisor, he was just him. He was genuine. And he was the first you’d know at court to be thus. Your lips parted but your thoughts never reached them.

“I shall bid you good night, my lady,” He said. “I should hope you find yourself safely back to your chambers.”

“And you, my lord,” You returned. He bowed and hesitated before he finally turned away. You watched him go and let the lamp hang at your side.

“If I may, my lady,” Your guard remarked. “I think he might be right.”

“Do you think that?” You looked to him in the dull glow of the lamp.

“Why surely,” He said, “It would be a pity to end up as the queen has.”

[here4theheartbreak]

Whistling Woods (TaeGi)

✩ AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: taegi (Taehyung x Yoongi)

✩ Genre/Universe: fluff

✩ Rating: General Audiences

✩ Tags: getting together, suggestive scenes, fluff, fairies, angels, fae!Taehyung, fae!Jimin

✩ Summary: Yoongi hears a strange whistling in the woods outside his apartment. What he finds will change his life.

✩ Word Count: ~3.6k

✩ A/N: This fic fills the square Snow Angels for @btsholidaybingo​ - Also for Taehyung’s birthday 2020. And! Finally, this is also my last fic of 2020!! I will return next year with even better works for you all. Thank you for your support this year!

Yoongi fell into bed with a deep groan. Long nights were the worst. He’d been up until three in the morning, working on the latest report for his company. He was ready to sleep for a damn week. Yoongi simply was not built for this style of working. 

He plugged his phone in and wrestled his way under the covers, sighing contentedly as the cool winter breeze drifted in through his open window. His eyelids grew heavy, slipping shut.

The whistle was like nothing Yoongi had ever heard before. A long, high squeal followed by three rapid trills. At first, he wondered if it was the wind through the trees outside his window, but he’d never heard wind whistle like that. There was silence for a few moments, and then another series, two rapid trills, one long whistle, one more rapid chirp. 

Yoongi sat up, scowling at the darkness outside his window. It sounded so close. He lived on the third floor of his apartment, but it sounded right like it was right outside, in the little grove of trees that connected to the wider woods. 

Another series of chirps and whistles, different than the previous two. An animal? Some sort of bird? He’d never heard a bird like that. He sounded almost too mechanical, like someone was trilling on a referee’s whistle. 

The noise went on for another twenty minutes, and Yoongi had begun to get chills down his spine. There was something deeply eerie about the sound. It didn’t belong. It wasn’t right. The shadows in his room suddenly felt far more threatening, and the cool breeze through his screen that normally helped him sleep was far more chilling.

Yoongi swore under his breath when it happened again, kicking out of his blankets and padding over to his clothes. He tugged on sweatpants over his pajamas, and a hoodie, then added his winter jacket. He pulled his boots on and slipped quietly out the door of his apartment. He could still hear the whistling faintly as he padded down the steps to the ground floor, and far louder once he was outside. Yoongi’s heart was beating a mile a minute, not sure what he was actually doing out here. Whatever was making that noise wasn’t an animal or the wind, so it was probably a human. But why would a human be blowing a whistle at three in the morning? 

Despite the knowledge that this was probably a very bad idea, Yoongi circled around the apartment building and stepped onto one of the dirt paths that wound through the wooded area. 

The chirping continued as Yoongi snuck along, sounding much louder and much closer as he wandered along the paths. He lost sight of the apartment building among the trees, digging in his pockets to find his phone. A dread settled into his stomach when he realized he’d left it charging on the bedside stand. If he got lost, he would be in trouble. 

As if confirming his concern, the whistling erupted again, near enough to his left side that it made his ears ache. He ducked low behind a tree, creeping off the path and heading toward the sound. His boots crunched in the snow despite his best efforts to quiet them. 

As he neared what l looked like an open patch in the trees, the crunching of snow and quiet titters of something filled his ears. His own footsteps were entirely drowned out. He moved himself behind a tree, peeking out. 

It was a small clearing, moonlight shining down and casting a cool, bluish glow over the snow. In the center were two men—at least they looked sort of like men, making snow angels in the deep snow. Yoongi leaned forward, narrowing his eyes to see them better. One sat up, and his face shone in moonlight. Yoongi’s heart jumped. He was the most stunning man Yoongi had ever laid eyes on. A sharp jawline and shaggy, wavy hair colored in a variety of blue shades, his mouth drawn back into a wide smile.

The whistling erupted again. It was coming from the man. Not that he was blowing a whistle – but from his mouth. It moved like he was speaking to the other, pink haired man in the snow, gesturing to the angel he’d made. 

As if things couldn’t get any stranger, wings erupted from the blue haired man’s back, fluttering iridescent in the moonlight. This time Yoongi did gasp. 

Both men’s heads whipped around, landing on the spot Yoongi was hidden. His heart began to pound as they approached, the blue haired man’s feet lifting from the ground every few feet as his wings – his wings!! – fluttered him forward. Yoongi looked around, wondering if he had any chance of hiding. 

His thoughts were cut short when a slender hand grabbed his arm with surprising strength, yanking him forward into the field. Yoongi cried out in surprise, landing in the snow. Some puffed up into his face, blinding him momentarily. 

When he cleared it, he was face to face with the stunning blue haired… creature. Now that he could see him clearly, he realized that fit far better than man. His skin was smooth and perfect, almost poreless in the shine of the moonlight. His eyes were bright blue, the same shade as his hair, which Yoongi could now see was just as iridescent as the wings sprouted from his broad back. 

“You can see us.” The voice that came from the creature was shocking; a rich, velvety, deep sound that settled immediately into Yoongi’s bones.

“You speak Korean.”

The creature tilted his head. “Of course. Is that not where we live?”

“Th—The whistling.”

“You heard that?” Chirped the pink haired creature behind him. He was just as stunning as the blue haired one; shorter and slimmer, with a full, pouty mouth and vibrant pinkish irises. His voice was higher and softer, but just as velvety and soothing. 

“Of course. It’s why I came out here. It woke me, but sounded like nothing I’ve heard before. I needed to know.”

The blue haired creature blinked. He straightened up, allowing Yoongi to sit up and bat the snow from his coat. 

“You live in that brick building outside the grove.”

“Yes, my apartment building.” 

“Hum. You shouldn’t see us.”

“Well I do. Clear as day. Right here.” Yoongi reached out and touched the creature’s arm. He jumped visibly.

“I don’t get it. Humans can’t see us! Unless—” 

“Humans? What are you?” Yoongi asked.

The pink haired one crept closer, his movements light enough that he barely disturbed the snow under his feet. “He doesn’t look Fae, Taehyungie.”

“I know. Did you have two parents? Both humans?”

“Of course I did. Fae? Is that what you two…” Yoongi drifted off, staring at the two in front of him. It would make sense. The wings, the otherworldly beauty, the inhumanness in general. But Fae? They didn’t exist outside of fairy tales.

“Yes,” Taehyung said simply. “But only ones with Fae blood should be able to see us unless we let them. Nobody can hear us speak our own language.”

“That’s what the whistling was.”

“Yes.”

Yoongi shook his head. “This is insane. I—I’m just a normal guy. I just wanted to sleep in peace.” Yoongi put his cold hands over his face, screwing his eyes shut.

“I think he’s frightened, Tae.”

“And probably cold. You should stand up, human. Come on. We won’t hurt you.” Taehyung grabbed Yoongi’s elbow, hauling him to his feet. 

“I just wanted to sleep,” Yoongi groaned. 

“What’s your name, human?” Taehyung asked. He pried Yoongi’s hands from his face and offered a smile.

“Yoongi. Min Yoongi.”

“My name is Taehyung. This is my brother, Jimin. You should go home, it’s too cold, your nose is turning red.”

“I—” Yoongi hesitated, looking around. “I’m lost. I wandered off the trail trying to find the noises…”

“Let me take you home,” Taehyung offered. “I know the way.”

Yoongi hesitated, looking between the two creatures. Fae. Fucking fairies! 

Jimin smiled, seeming to sense his hesitation. “We’re peaceful. We won’t hurt someone who won’t hurt us. Humans can’t see us, normally – We’re just confused, but we don’t mean you any harm, Min Yoongi.”

“I’m just… This is all too much.”

“Let me take you home,” Taehyung said again. “We will be quieter, you won’t need to even remember tonight, it can be a dream.”

Yoongi chuckled without humor, shaking his head. “This is too insane to even be a dream.”

Despite his lamentation, Yoongi let Taehyung grasp his hand and lead him through the woods.

As they walked, Yoongi couldn’t help but keep looking over, examining the features of the man next to him. The only problem was, more times than not, when Yoongi would look over, Taehyung was already looking at him, their eyes meeting awkwardly before both looked forward once more. 

When they reached the edge of the woods, apartment looming up in front of them, Taehyung grabbed Yoongi’s hand once more.

“I don’t know why you can see us, but please don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“No, of course not,” Yoongi said. “Frankly the story would be entirely unbelievable anyway… But I figure you guys are hidden for a reason, so…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

“It was my pleasure.” Taehyung hesitated, glancing around the empty area. He seemed like he had something more to say, so Yoongi waited, standing just outside the protection of the woods. 

“What’s up?” Yoongi finally asked when the silence had stretched on too long.

“Nothing, I just… I can’t figure out why you can see me.”

“I don’t know, honestly. I had two perfectly normal parents, nothing magical or special about me.”

“That’s untrue,” Taehyung said.

“What?”

“Saying there’s nothing special about you. It may not be in the Fae sense… But you are special, Yoongi. I can feel it.”

“Is that so?” Yoongi chuckled. “Tell that to my boss.”

Taehyung tilted his head a little. He let go of Yoongi’s hand after giving it a little squeeze. “Sleep well, Min Yoongi.”

“Uh… Thanks. You too, if you sleep?”

Taehyung smiled brightly, a squarish shape that was both odd and endearing. “We do. And I will. Thank you.” He turned then and slipped back into the trees. Yoongi watched until he could no longer see the blue of Taehyung’s hair, feeling strangely sad when it finally disappeared. He shook his head and headed into the apartment. What an insane night, he thought as he fell into bed. So fairies were real… And really pretty. Who knew?

Yoongi woke the next morning to a fresh snowfall and a perfectly nice breeze in his window. It only took a few minutes of lying in bed, breathing in the crisp air, for the memories from the night before to come flooding back. 

Fairies. He’d met… real fairies. Though he may have been able to brush it off as a wildly detailed dream, the damp sweats hanging over his desk chair, and the boots, still puddled with melted snow by his door, told a different story. So, it had happened. He’d met… Fairies. The blue haired one - Taehyung - swam to the forefront of his memory. He was so stunning. Yoongi was almost disappointed he’d likely never see him again. 

He rose and dressed for work, facing yet another mundane day. He went to see his boss first thing when he reached the office, intending to update him about the progress on the reports he’d finished the night prior. When he entered the office, however, his boss jumped up. 

“Min Yoongi! Just the man I wanted to see.”

“O— Oh?” Yoongi asked, glancing around. “Is there something wrong with the numbers?”

“What? No, the numbers are great, they always are. You, my boy, you are something special. You know what I think you need? A raise. How does that sound?”

“A raise?” Yoongi spluttered. “But why?” 

“Because you’re good at your job. Damn good at it. In fact, did you finish the spreadsheets for this week?”

“Uh-huh. Last night. That’s what I was coming in to say—“

“Great. Take the rest of the day off. Early weekend.”

“What?” 

“Well, why should you stay around, you’ve done your job. Go home and enjoy the day. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asked, confusion written across his features. 

“Of course I am, get out of here.”

Yoongi bowed in thanks, walking out hesitatingly. He kept waiting for his boss to call him back, say it was a joke. Even as he rode the bus home, he waited for the inevitable ‘get your ass back here’ phone call that was sure to come. 

But it never did, and Yoongi was able to spend the day relaxing, working on music and art and just generally enjoying his day. 

As the sun dipped down over the horizon, Yoongi settled in for a long, relaxing bath. He was going to get to bed early tonight and wake up refreshed for the weekend ahead, he decided. 

After the longest, most pampering bath he’d let himself take in near a year, Yoongi trotted out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and headed for his bedroom. 

And on his bed sat Taehyung, cross-legged and wingless, reading a magazine that was on Yoongi’s bedside stand. 

Yoongi screamed in surprise, covering his bare chest with his arm and squeezing the knot on his towel more tightly. Taehyung looked up.

“Oh! You’re out. I didn’t want to bother you in the bath, so I waited here. Why do you look so frightened?”

Taehyung hesitated, then gasped. “Oh, right. Humans knock rather than just appearing, huh?”

“Usually,” Yoongi said, still breathing hard, “yes. Also I’m naked and you’re on my bed.”

“Is that a sexual proposition?” Taehyung asked simply. Yoongi thought for a moment he was going to choke on his own tongue as he struggled to respond.

“What, no!”

“Oh. Why do you need to point out your nudity in relation to my position on the bed then?”

“Because I’m naked, Taehyung!” Yoongi cried, slumping against the wall. “I need to put clothes on and you’re in my bedroom!”

“So…” Taehyung blinked. He gasped then. “Oh! You’re timid.”

“I am not timid,” Yoongi bristled.

“About your nudity?”

“No! It’s just... I don’t—Just turn away at least so I can put on underwear.”

Taehyung shrugged and spun around on the bed, his back to Yoongi. Yoongi hurried over to his dresser and pulled on his boxers and a pair of pajamas. “Okay, fine,” he said, tossing his towel into the hamper. He heard the bedsheets rustle as Taehyung turned back around, but faced his closet to find a shirt to sleep in.

“You have a nice body.”

Yoongi’s cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Thanks…”

He tugged on his shirt and turned. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Your window.”

“It’s barely open.”

“Enough for me. I can get very small when I want to.”

“Like Tinkerbell,” Yoongi joked. He paced around a moment, unsure what to do with himself. Finally, he sat in his desk chair, facing the bed. 

“I suppose,” Taehyung finally responded, after watching him pace. “We can change size if needed but we don’t stay tiny like the cartoon.”

“I see… Why are you in my room?”

“Because I wanted to see you again. Did your boss treat you better today?”

Yoongi scowled at that. “He—” His words from the previous night came back to him. ‘Tell that to my boss.’ 

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. I just told him that you were special and should be treated as such.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yoongi lamented, laughing a little at the ridiculousness of it. “But thank you. He gave me a raise and the day off.”

“That’s a good thing for humans then?”

“Yeah, I’ve deserved a raise in that place for a year. He’s normally too stingy. So, yeah, thank you… I can’t believe you did it, but… How did you know where I worked, anyway?”

Taehyung smiled and shrugged. “We fairies have our ways. I like you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so? What for? I’m just a human.”

“You have a nice face. And I think a nice personality. Your hair is a bit dull… But all my people are so bright, it’s kind of nice see that too.” Taehyung rose, approaching Yoongi. He sat on his lap, ignoring Yoongi’s sharp gasp of surprise. “And you have a nice aura.” Taehyung swiped at a spot near the side of Yoongi’s head. “It shimmers and flows. There’s dark spots but it’s not so bad at all. Not like most of your kind.”

“Auras huh? I assumed mine would be black as hell… I’m an angry person.”

“I can see that.” Taehyung tilted his head. He reached out again, drawing swirls in something only he could see. “But there’s more.”

Yoongi shivered a little despite the comfortable temperature of the room. His eyes slipped shut, then snapped open. There was a fairy. On his lap. In his bedroom. A very pretty fairy… Making him shiver…

“Taehyung—”

“Hm?” 

“You should move.”

“Why?”

“Just—You should.”

“Do you not like me this close?”

Yoongi bared his teeth, swallowing hard. “That’s the problem.” 

“Are you implying your arousal? I can see it, silly.” 

Yoongi looked down at his lap, and Taehyung laughed. “I mean in your aura. It’s quite a pretty silver shade. See?” Taehyung swiped up through the air next to Yoongi’s head and Yoongi moaned, a shudder running down his spine and straight to his crotch. 

“Wh—”

“Fairies can play with auras of humans. It’s fun sometimes. We can’t make things happen, or erase things, but we can sort of spread the emotion that’s there.”

“Well still,” Yoongi whispered, closing his eyes. 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Taehyung said. Yoongi could feel his breath across his cheek. “If you could see my aura it’d be very pearl. That’s my aroused color. I told you I liked you.”

Yoongi opened his eyes, surprised to see Taehyung almost nose to nose with him, his blue eyes shimmering. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Taehyung said simply.

Yoongi barely nodded before Taehyung closed the short distance between their mouths, their lips sliding together a little awkwardly at first. It was no different, really, kissing a fairy, Yoongi realized. No fireworks or rainbows… Just a soft mouth that tasted faintly of something sweet… And comfort. Yoongi relaxed against the chair, sighing softly into Taehyung’s mouth as their lips moved together. 

Taehyung broke the kiss first, offering a crooked, square smile. “That was nice.”

“Hm… Mhm,” Yoongi mumbled, his eyes half closed.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“Get dressed in warm clothes.”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open. “Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“My brother is waiting for me. I promised him I’d only take a few minutes. But I don’t want to leave you yet. Come play in the snow with us.”

Yoongi grimaced. “I hate the snow.”

Taehyung grinned wider. “But we love it. And I can always warm you up after.”

Yoongi swallowed hard at that, his mind going all sorts of dirty places. 

“Is your brother gonna be okay with me being there? Yesterday he seemed a little weirded out that I wasn’t a fairy like you guys.”

“Oh, Jimin’s an angel. He’s my half-brother.”

“But he said Fae—”

“Yeah, angels are Fae too. They’re the more… Hm… Powerful ones? But he’s okay with it, we talked and he knows I like you. He wants to get to know you better too. It’ll be a while before it snows again, and we wanted to make a few more snow fairies.”

“S—Snow fairies?”

“You know…” Taehyung made arcs with his arms. 

“Oh! We call them snow angels.” 

Taehyung giggled then. “Jimin will be so enamored to hear that. Will you come?”

Yoongi bit his lip, glancing at his warm, inviting bed. “Okay, lemme get my clothes on. Wait for me outside?”

“Sure. Same place we parted.”

Yoongi nodded. Taehyung rose. His wings twitched into being, making Yoongi gasp in quiet surprise. Even in the low light in the bedroom, they were stunning.

Taehyung’s smile was sheepish. “What?”

“Pretty,” Yoongi said simply.

“Thank you. I’ll meet you there.” His wings fluttered for a moment, and he seemed to shimmer around his entire form, before – in the blink of an eye – he was gone. Well not gone, Yoongi realized as the small firefly like creature flitted around his room and out his open window. Tiny. 

Was he really going to do this? He tugged on sweats and a pair of snow pants, and then his warmer jacket and a scarf. He donned his hat and a pair of boots last, grabbing gloves. He was definitely going to do this… How many people could say they went and made snow angels – Snow fairies with a real fairy and angel? 

And… That they got to warm up with said fairy afterward. 

Yoongi couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he hurried down his stairs and around the back of the apartment building. As promised, Taehyung was waiting by the mouth of the wooded area, his hair shining in the moonlight. 

Yoongi walked up to him, and Taehyung grabbed his hand, twining their fingers. He kissed his cheek before pulling him into the woods. 

Who could say they had a fairy for a boyfriend? Yoongi could, after tonight. And that was all the warmth he needed.  

[dinosaurtsukki]

drops of jupiter | an oikawa x gn!reader one-shot

pairing: oikawa x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k words

contains: slight angst, lots of space imagery, some song references, oikawa can go to space and this isn’t Fully Explained

summary: oikawa had always dreamed of going to space until one day, he floated up to the night sky. ever since then, he’d travel up to space, spending more and more time there while you were left behind on earth.

a/n: i’ve always liked how whimsical this song was and i wanted to make a fic about it. also i’m in love with space nerd!oikawa so much. if you can, listen to the song while reading!

inspired by the song ‘drops of jupiter’ by train (although i love the taylor swift cover)

you’ve known oikawa tooru loved space ever since you were still kids. it wasn’t strange for kids to stare at the sky and wonder about the great outer space. but the look on oikawa’s face was always wistful, as if he was remembering a home that he had never been to.

you’ve loved oikawa ever since you realized what it meant to love. he was synonymous to the feeling of waking up to a new day and the excitement of a friday night. unlike him, you never searched for anything beyond the small town where you lived. you were left wanting for even less when oikawa told you he loved you. you knew he meant what he said. you could tell by how his eyes shone when you laugh and how he held you close every night. but you’d always find him looking to the sky, the same wistful look in his face.

and then one day, he did go to space.

it happened on a warm summer night. you were sitting on the doorstep and watched as oikawa, who was lying on the ground and staring at the sky, began to float. both of you gazed in shock as his body lifted off the ground to hover in the air for a few inches. and then, the few inches grew to a few feet. you ran just in time to take his hand only, to let go as oikawa floated farther and farther up into the sky. his ecstatic voice rang through the night as he realized that he was going to achieve his dream of going to space.

and you were left alone, searching the night sky.

…

“y/n!”

you turned around instantly at the familiar voice calling your name to find oikawa floating down from the sky. it took a while for you to realize that he was real and not a vision. with a gasp, you dropped the sheet you were hanging up on a clothesline and ran straight into his arms. oikawa laughed as the force sent the two of you sprawling on the grass with you on top of him, feeling his warmth and breathing in the smell of his shirt.

“did you miss me?” he grinned up at you. he looked no different from the day he left for space again a year ago. after oikawa’s first time going to space, he came back a week later only to leave again. the length of time when he’d been gone became a few weeks to a few months, to now, a year. every time he returned felt much sweeter especially with how you worried each day that oikawa would no longer come back.

“i missed you,” you nodded, placing his hands on your face as you bit back the question you had always wanted to ask. oikawa grinned, his eyes on you and not anywhere else, and that was enough for now.

…

even before he went to space, oikawa had always been the center of attention at any social gathering. his natural charisma drew people to him and he could talk to anyone about anything. watching him now at the small ‘welcome home’ party you set up for him and his friends, you could see the gravitational pull that caused everyone to almost orbit oikawa. and how couldn’t they? even the neon lights overhead in the town bar seemed to center on him.

“saturn was absolutely amazing! i practically spent weeks gliding across its rings. and don’t get me started on the sunsets mercury,” you heard oikawa tell his one of many stories. even in regular clothes, your boyfriend looked ethereal and bright with the colored lights blooming like nebulas on his skin.

“y/n! there you are!” oikawa grinned, catching your eye from across the bar. you smiled and excused yourself from a conversation with one of your friends and walked to him. he circled a hand around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“how are you liking your party?” you smiled at him, relishing in the warmth of his arm around you.

“well, i sure miss seeing the human faces,” oikawa joked. everyone around him laughed. “although, not as much as watching the last moments of a dying star. there was this one time i…”

you found yourself tuning out, eyes only on oikawa as you watched him tell his story. anyone could easily say that oikawa was a wonder to behold, a man who had been and seen what lay beyond and was unafraid of anything. but to you, oikawa had always been a wonder: back in high school when you watched him train day in and day out until his serve shot across the court like a comet, back when he dragged you outside to dance in the middle of a storm, back when he’d wake you up with pancakes for breakfast.

iwaizumi, one of oikawa’s best friend, was the one who made you tune back in. “so, when are you going back up there?” he asked, sharing a look with you. just like you, he waited every night for his friend to return.

“hmm, i think in about a week?” oikawa hummed.

“a week?” you turned to him, startled. “but… you just got here two days ago.”

“i know, i know but there’s this astral event that’s supposed to happen just once every few years! it’s a black hole swallowing a star!” oikawa chattered excitedly. “i was only able to get a glimpse of it last time but…” his eyes softened at the look on your face. “you understand, right y/n?”

once again, you bit back the question you’ve been wanting to ask. “sure, tooru,” you nodded.

“thanks, y/n,” he smiled, his hand on your waist rising to rest on your shoulder. oikawa was just like a star: bright, beautiful, but so, so far away.

…

you’ve known oikawa tooru loved space ever since you first met him back when you were still kids. that’s why you also knew that nothing was going to stop him from going back to space whenever he could. and so, the most you could do was to have fun during your last night out with him.

“ahh, this brings back memories,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hands as you gazed around the diner.

“sure does,” oikawa grinned. “remember when we decided to eat that 12-scoop banana split?”

“i do! we had severe brain freezes,” you laughed.

“and our stomachs ached for weeks! i couldn’t look at another ice cream scoop the same way ever again,” oikawa shook his head. you smiled as you noticed that tonight, oikawa easily melded into his surroundings. he wasn’t a star. for now, he was your tooru.

“two slices of apple pie and one vanilla milkshake. with two straws,” the waitress, a kind old woman who had been working at the diner ever since you two were kids, winked at you both as she placed the straws on the place.

“thanks auntie,” oikawa smiled gratefully at her.

“space may be great, but the best apple pie in the galaxy is still served here,” you said, eating a forkful of pie.

“well, not to discredit the fact that this apple pie is amazing, i think there are a whole lot more other exciting things out there,” oikawa shrugged a shoulder.

“an apple pie is exciting in its own way,” you disagreed. “i mean, it’s a recipe that’s been passed down for ages. imagine auntie’s great-great-great grandmother in the kitchen creating this recipe but with none of the kitchen equipment we have now. imagine all the apple pies she created until she decided ‘hey, this is absolutely perfect’. imagine how she’d scrounge up money just to have the ingredients. imagine her daughter or something spending all those hours to learn her mother’s recipe. imagine the sheer multitude of people who have eaten this same pie, how generations of families in our town are united by the very opinion that this apple pie is the best in the galaxy.”

you stopped when you realized that you had been ranting, only to find oikawa staring at you, almost starry-eyed. it made your chest ache to have that look on his face directed at you this time. “w-what?” you stammered.

“i just… remembered one of the many things i like so much about you,” oikawa said softly. just hearing him say that gave you the courage to ask the question you’ve been wanting to bring up.

“did you miss me while you were out there?”

“y/n…” oikawa reached his hand across the table. “of course i missed you.”

“enough for you to stay? just a bit longer?” you asked the question softly. oikawa looked down and bit his lip. you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to get the answer that you want. quickly, you forked a piece of your apple pie and held it out towards him.

“your pie is getting cold,” you said. oikawa blinked at you, surprised no doubt from the change in topic, before leaning forward and eating the piece of pie. you watched him chew thoughtfully for a few seconds before breaking out into a small smile.

“that is the best pie in the galaxy.”

…

every single time, before he went to back to space, oikawa would feel a knot of unease in his stomach, especially when he heard the sad way you’d say goodbye. oikawa could go to space dozens of times, but would you still be there when he came back? that’s the question he always asked himself.

but, it was so wonderful to be in space. to hop from planet to planet, to streak across the inky blackness hanging on the tail of a comet, to lose himself among the multi-colored clouds of space dust, to float on his back and simply watch the revolutions of planets around the sun and think about how amazing it was to be a part of this cosmos.

oikawa knew that everything on earth should be dull compared to outer space, but with you, there was a slight shine to everything. you could go on for hours about everything from apple pie to the history of the only bowling alley in your town. and everything about you was so real. your smile was as warm as the sunlight that entered through the windows to land on his face in the morning. your laugh as soothing and comforting as the sound of rain hitting the rooftops and windows during a gentle storm. and the way you said his name: so full of love that it made oikawa’s chest ache.

surely, nothing else could compare. except…

“wait, is that what i think it is?” oikawa exclaimed, letting go of your hand and skipping forward to see a streak of light shoot across the sky. and another, and another. enough for him to know that he wasn’t just seeing things. “it’s a meteor shower!” he laughed.

“it is!” you said excitedly beside him. oikawa took your hand and the two of you sprinted off in the direction of the house. it was such a sight to see that both of you ran into a few things while you were busy staring up at the sky, before finally reaching your house. oikawa stood, mesmerized at the meteor shower above that rivaled any fireworks display he saw on earth. once again, he felt that pull, similar to that night when he first went to space, and knew that it would only take a matter of seconds for his feet to float over the ground.

and then, he heard you speak.

“are you leaving already?” you spoke softly. oikawa turned around to find you staring, not at him, but at the sky with a longing, wistful expression on your face. it was an expression he was all-too familiar with and it brought oikawa back to those nights he spent staring at the sky, wondering whether he would be able to see the stars and planets and moons and galaxies for himself. oikawa remembered that longing that made his chest ache every night, and realized that you must have been feeling it too all along.

your arms were wrapped around your shoulders, hugging yourself in anticipation because you knew oikawa was going to leave again. ‘they’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen,’ oikawa realized. and outer space was vast and wonderful and unexplored, but it was also cold and soundless.

to your surprise, oikawa didn’t leave. he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“tooru..?”

“maybe… maybe i’ll stay a little longer,” oikawa smiled down at you, his hands cupping your cheeks. you swallowed, feeling tears stream down your face from relief and pure joy. oikawa was staying.

“thank you. thank you, tooru,” you sniffed, burying your face in his shirt, arms wrapped around and clinging to him. oikawa held you just as tightly, feeling his feet firmly rooted on the ground. he would miss going to space, but everything out there had existed ever since the dawn of time and would continue to exist for far longer. it could wait. but this moment: the two of you embracing under a meteor shower, could only last now.

omg i forgot to add my taglist again 👁👄👁

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh@charliefredb@dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts@applepienation@doodleniella