#i realize that walking at inopportune times may not be exactly what you want to hear but....its what i do

[darkwood-sleddog]

Hello, I adopted a senior malamute last October, and this is the first summer I’ve had her, and she’s the first arctic breed dog I’ve had. We had no issues walking a couple miles in the winter (we live in Ohio), but now that it’s summer, she seems to struggle in the heat, so I’ve kept the walks shorter. I’d like her to stay in better shape, especially because her hips aren’t the best, but other than walking at ridiculous hours of the day (summers here are warmer now than when I was a kid), I’d like to find a way to get her more exercise without her having to deal with the heat so much. Also, my house doesn’t have a lot of floor space, and she doesn’t really play with toys. Also, also, I’ve found that she’s pretty easy to train, though she gets bored with too much repetition. I was hoping you’d have some ideas or suggestions for us. Thanks!

Ohio isn't that much different than Vermont (having lived in both states). Both have humid summers and cold winters. The not wanting to play with toys and getting bored after repetitions is pretty normal malamute behavior (hello SIGURD). If you do any training sessions indoors (especially when trying to combat heat/need for stimulation) keep things short and fun!

I consider my dogs summer to be their "vacation" from longer, harder working and walking, but they do get exercise most days. While most dogs get their fittest in summer months as their people are able to do things longer, with arctic breeds it's going to be the opposite. Keep walks short and yes, my recommendation would be to walk at those ridiculous times of the day if your dog is really struggling to adjust (early morning is going to be cooler than late evening as it's had all night to cool vs heating up during the day). You can also look for alternative locations to take your pup that might not be as hot, easy to access swimming areas, shaded trails, etc. Honestly, anything to get away from pavement and lack of trees because you would not imagine the difference in heat dirt + trees makes vs asphalt + no trees (usually a 10 degree difference here in VT on the same day). But you should also keep in mind your dog's hips and don't go anywhere she might overstrain herself. Even if you go on a short walk, bring water for your pup. Mine are happy for a drink even less than half a mile out on a hot day (on a dirt road and shaded area even).

Other things to consider:

-has she lost her winter coat? in my experience this makes a MASSIVE difference to an arctic dog's ability to acclimate to summer. Some dogs do not drop their coat on their own like it should (often time spayed females and dogs with the long coat gene), and may need extra help achieving this through grooming.

-because my dogs have less activity in the summer months i reduce their caloric intake, this also keeps them cooler as they aren't burning through calories, but please talk to your vet before doing any caloric reductions, especially with an older dog. My reductions are only ever enough to maintain body weight with reduced activity and/or drop any unwanted weight that accumulates post sled/winter season.

Also if it is super hot it is 100% okay to give your dog a day off from activity besides potty breaks. Mine are useless rugs when it gets above certain temperatures and would be very uncomfortable if forced to participate in activity. If she needs stimulation on hot days i'd reserve lots of brain games and indoor training specifically for these days.

[idontblushsrry]

Hikaru Hitachiin||SFW Alphabet

A/N: Will this include Hikaru slander? Yes. Hikaru stans come get ur food, enjoy!

Word Count: 2219

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hikaru shows affection physically. He’s much too prideful to admit (bar the rare and private confessions of adoration and love) his love for you through words or actions and he prefers to receive instead of give gifts. But a little arm around your shoulder, holding your hand in his pocket, small pecks on the cheek and you more than know how much Hikaru loves you.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Hikaru likely becomes best friends with you via pranks. He takes note of you when you catch him trying to mess with Tamaki and give him a few pointers on how to better scare the poor blonde. From there, it’s history.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Hikaru loves to cuddle. He becomes especially clingy at night at which point all he wants to do is hold you. When he’s away from you, he still prefers to cuddle with something so he’ll substitute you for a pillow. Not the same but it gets the job done until he can return home to you and get wrapped up in your arms again.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hikaru likes the idea of settling down. He’d definitely want to head to the countryside or somewhere mountainous that’s surrounded by beaches. He likes the thought of you and him being together in your own little pocket of the world. As for cooking and cleaning, he can’t do either and has no interest in doing so, so he’d probably pay a few servants to do the work for him.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Hikaru had to break up with you, it’d likely be the result of both of you needing to part ways so that you can work on yourselves before trying to give the relationship another shot. Hikaru generally acts unaffected (and depending on the length of your relationship, he is) but deep down he resolves to become better for you.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He doesn’t really like the idea of marriage because he views it as an expensive mess that ends in an even more expensive divorce. He does like the idea of spending his life with you but if yall ever got married he might just get a pre-nup. Overall though, he’s not really the sort for marriage, the legal part of it especially gives him anxiety, and to be honest, when he knows that he’s committed to you, it just is. Loving and being with you becomes as natural as breathing for him.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Hikaru isn’t really gentle at all. Like he definitely tries to be soft and tender with you but also he likes to pinch your butt when you walk past, and really is he so terrible for that? (Kind of, that shit be hurtin mf)

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Please hug Hikaru, he won’t ask for it or initiate aside from throwing his arm around your waist/shoulder. He craves your hugs and whenever you hug him it’s like the clouds part and a rainbow shines down onto your relationship. Hikaru’s hugs, as a result of his refusal to just ask for a hug, are always a little clingy, desperate to hold you tight to him for as long as possible.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

One of Hikaru’s biggest regrets is how fast he said ‘I love you’. It was spur of the moment and he didn’t mean it, he just thought he had to say it because you’d both been dating for 3 months and he just straight up didn’t mean it. The look on your face was filled with so much joy that he feels disgusted with himself whenever he thinks back to it. Now every time he says he loves you, he tries his hardest to make sure that you understand just how much he means it. He never wants you to doubt the depth of his devotion for you.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

He and Kaoru are already getting that gleam in their eye. In all seriousness though, he gets really pouty and everything becomes a competition between him and the person he’s jealous of. It’s like, “Oh, you’re on track to become an olympic class track runner? That’s cool I guess, what’s really impressive is the fact that I’m 5′9″. It’s embarrassing for both of you, and you just apologize for him before walking away, dragging him along with you.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Hikaru’s kisses are a lot like him in the sense that they’re exciting with a hint of trouble. Hikaru enjoys flustering you by kissing you in as many public places as passionately as possible before walking off and acting like everything’s all normal. He likes to smirk into kisses and his kisses are so intense that most times they turn into makeout sessions despite neither of you really planning it.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Hikaru is kid of awkward around kids. He doesn’t really care too much for them and so whenever they’re around, he tends to just hand them off to the nearest person who cares for children. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do so if he’s left alone with a kid he’ll just kinda stare and ask if they need food or something.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Hikaru are sweet but stressful. Hikaru has an alarm that plays music and sends confetti instead of a more traditional one, and while Hikaru’s used to the sound of his alarm clock, you aren’t, and sleep right through it. Does Hikaru think ‘oh maybe I should wake Y/N up?’ Nope. He just sits there and stares at you until you naturally wake up on your own. You wake up so peacefully and stare at him until you get a glimpse at the time and start panicking and yelling at him for not waking you up sooner. 

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Hikaru are the calmest you’ll ever see him. He’s very sleepy and gets 1000% clingier. Whether it’s wrapping his arms and legs around you as he sleeps or you letting him sit on your lap while he applies both your and his face mask, nighttime Hikaru is just a clingy sweetheart trying to make up for a day of him acting like he’s not fully in love with you.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hikaru is a very layered person. Just when you think you’ve discovered something about him, you actually just barely scratched the surface. He tries to be more and more open with you, hiding less from you. But it’s not exactly easy to break his habit of not/fear of being open.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hikaru is a little brat, which means if he doesn’t get his way he will resort to mischief and then angry pouting. He gets angry kind of easily but he’s just gotten good at hiding it. Over the course of his relationship with you, he does start to chill out a bit, not getting his way doesn’t bother him as much anymore.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Hikaru remembers weird bits of information about you at the strangest and most inopportune moments. Like you’ll be talking to Kyoya while Hikaru is talking with his clients and he’ll just suddenly remember mid-act that you were like school council president at your elementary school or something and completely freeze and break character. 

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship (although this was technically before the two of you were together) was after the host club’s ball, you walked up to him like “I know the party’s over but may I have this dance.” He accepted of course and you both danced the night away. Just thinking about that day sends butterflies running through his stomach and he swoons for you all over again.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Hikaru is super protective over you. If he’s out and about with you somewhere and he feels like you’re in danger (not too common but always a risk with him being rich), he’s activating emergency defense protocol procedures. He’s also kinda dramatic about it like if you bump into the edge of the coffee table he’ll laugh at you but then while you aren’t looking, he’s calling to have the whole table removed. Have mercy on whoever decides to bother you though because he and Kaoru are not above jumping.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Hikaru puts a lot of effort into your dates, he enjoys the challenge of trying to one up his last attempt as well as trying to surprise you each time. He’s not really the type to give gifts unless they’re in the form of clothes, but he’d much rather get gifts than give them. He does get a little upset if he starts feeling like he’s the only one trying so shake things up by surprising him instead (wipe that all-knowing grin off his face). Despite the fact that he’ll try to act like he doesn’t try that hard, he really does want to impress you and he tries his hardest to do so.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

A bad habit of Hikaru’s is that he has a tendency to try and pick fights. No matter where this stems from, he tends to try and bait you into fights or disagreements. He doesn’t even realize that he does this until you point it out to him. (Well honestly you pointed it out, then in disbelief he went and asked the host club at which point, they agreed, and he was left in shock at their lack of hesitation).

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Hikaru, like Tamaki, is obsessed with his looks. He often lies and says that it’s Kaoru who’s obsessed with looks, but Hikaru goes absolutely feral if someone so much as touches any of his beauty products. He honestly doesn’t even want you to touch them unless you’re coming back from buying his stuff at the store.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

At first, Hikaru kinda treats your relationship with him like an exchange. He’s terrified you’re only interested in him for his looks or his money and so he does everything possible to make you stay because he was scared of what it would be like to be a person without you. He does break out of that dependent mindset eventually though. To be completely honest, you both probably break up because of Hikaru’s dependent tendencies and only get back together once both of you grew without the other for a while.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

 Hikaru has absolutely no relationship experience as he’s spent the last however may years of his life fending off all potential interaction with people who weren’t Kaoru with a stick.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

Hikaru’s only real turn-offs are people with no sense of style. Of course, it’s not a huge deal breaker but you pretty much have to be ok with being Hikaru’s personal doll. He also really dislikes boring people, like if your life can be summed up in a resume, he’s skipping past you. Another thing that he looks for in his partner is, obviously, the ability to tell the difference between him and his twin. If you can’t do that, he’s already written you off completely.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Hikaru sleeps fully and completely in the nude, like no boxers or anything. Initially, it was kind of a joke/ look at me thing but now he can’t help himself. Now, it’s fine between the two of you now, but the first time you spent the night at Hikaru’s house, only to find he’d somehow stripped all the way down in his sleep come morning, was...surprising to say the least. (You couldn’t look him in the eye for almost a month afterwards)

[alpacaparkaseok]

Book of Soulmates

pairing: Jungkook x reader

premise: the boys decide that it’s high time for Jungkook to meet his soulmate - especially after he loses it during one of the most serious parts of the performance. 

“Oh! She’s also pretty good at Best of Me, but I’m telling you nothing will ever beat Jin’s part in-”

“I swear,” Jin interrupts the youngest, chuckling. “Do you know if the soulmate board has found her yet?”

Namjoon slaps Jin’s back a little too hard, completely oblivious. “Hyung, I think you want her to be found more than Jungkook. Are you gonna interrogate her or something?”

“No...I just have a few questions for her. Mainly, why me?”

Jungkook starts running in place, anxious for the concert to begin. “Well, we’ll see if she’s here tonight.”

Being a part of one of the most successful groups in the world certainly had its perks; one of those being the ability to track down soulmates.

It was something that the boys didn’t want to abuse, but it was also something that had them realizing that while many of them still hadn't met their soulmates - Hoseok had earlier in the year, by complete accident - it was high time for Jungkook to find his. 

It all started with a certain ballad. 

Jungkook shared a bond where he could hear whatever music his soulmate was currently listening to, so long as they were singing along. This gave his soulmate an obvious advantage: she easily found out that Jeon Jungkook was her soulmate. Who else had such a beautiful voice?

When the song ‘The Truth Untold’ finally graced the world, Jungkook anxiously awaited to hear if his soulmate liked the song. If she would sing it over and over again throughout the following weeks, at any time of day. He waited anxiously for the tell-tale sound of the girl singing in his head.

She loved the song.

And it’s been both a blessing and a curse ever since. 

Something that Jungkook has come to find out about his soulmate: she’ll do anything to make him laugh. And usually at the most inopportune times. 

Which is exactly what he’s preparing himself for right now, standing with the rest of the vocal line, struggling to keep a straight face. They’re nearing Jin’s part of the song, which is the hardest part to get through.

Mainly because of the horrible impression that echos through his head as his soulmate either sings the song in real time (it’s slightly alarming how many times she’s been right on time, regardless of the time zone Jungkook is currently in) or the memory of all the times he’s tried to imitate what it sounds like to his brothers has him barely holding back his laughter. 

So tonight when Jin, looking ever so serious, gracefully does his best, Jungkook can’t help but choke down a laugh. 

Not only does his soulmate pipe up at this exact moment, completely butchering Jin’s part in a way that he’s sure will always remain in his head, but Jin’s voice cracks. 

The other boys give Jungkook a side glace, practically threatening him with his life if he loses it on stage right now. So, he does the only other thing he knows to do. 

Lowering his head, he feigns crying even as his shoulders shake with laughter. 

After the song, as they rush below stage, Jungkook can’t contain his laughter anymore. Shoulders shaking while he gives Jin a pitiful look, he just shrugs.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps while laughing, “It’s just so good. A-and then your voice-”

“Yah!” Jin shouts, stalking away while hiding a smile. “Go get changed!”

As Jungkook prepares with the rest of the boys for the next stage, Sejin appears with a serious expression. Everyone falls silent, Jungkook’s stomach knotting. 

A couple of months ago Jungkook had sat down with the soulmate board of Bighit and filled out some paperwork which would hopefully help them to locate his soulmate. Tonight was the big test, and hearing her sing along was a sure sign. She’s here.

Jungkook had informed staff after their first set that he’d heard her singing along to every word. His hands were shaking as he did so. 

“Hey guys,” Sejin begins with a docile tone. “Concert’s been great. Just finish up this set strong, alright?”

Jungkook stares at the manager with wide eyes, not needing to voice the question but doing so anyways. “Did you guys...?”

Sejin nods, a little smile adorning his face. “Yeah, we found her. Gave her and her friend a pass to come backstage immediately after. They’ll be escorted back.”

Jungkook’s heart stops for a split second before taking off again. Nodding more to himself than anyone, he bounces around on his feet. “Let’s go, then.”

The rest of the concert is a strange blur. Now that he knows for certain that his soulmate is out there in the crowd, he can’t help but look for her. While he knows that the chances of him recognizing her on the spot are slim to none, he still can’t help but wonder who it may be. 

As the concert ends and Jungkook begins to descend below stage, he sees a couple of bodyguards weaving their way through the crowd, heading toward someone. He knows that they’re heading for his soulmate, to escort her backstage. 

What follows are a series of breathing exercises, shaking hands, and tight hugs and words of reassurance from his hyungs. Once he’s finally changed into normal clothes, he watches as everyone else eats some dinner. 

“You need to eat something, Jungkookie,” Jimin repeats for the third time. Jungkook stares at the food, not entirely seeing it. 

Hoseok chuckles knowingly, sitting beside him. He ruffles his hair. “You’ll be fine,” he coos. “Better than fine.”

Jungkook settles a little at Hoseok’s words, knowing that they carry a bit more weight as he’s already met his soulmate. The older boy lingers for a moment longer before sneaking out of the room to call his soulmate.

When Sejin comes to collect Jungkook, he feels as though he’s walking through concrete. Heart practically pounding out of his chest, he hardly hears whatever it is Sejin is saying to him. 

All too soon, they’re standing before a door which Jungkook knows they had hair and makeup done earlier. Sejin gives him a pat on the back. 

“Ok, final test. Sing something softly, maybe something you know that they’ll sing back. Just to make sure,” Sejin mumbles. 

Jungkook’s mind goes completely blank, but the last song that they sang today is still fresh in his mind. 

Ever so quietly, Jungkook sings out.

“So show me...”

Almost immediately another voice rings out, not nearly as timid. “I’ll show you.”

A smile breaking out on his face, Jungkook doesn’t wait any longer to throw the door open. 

Immediately his eyes fall on a girl that sits beside another one that is mid-bite. The other girl jumps up from the sofa, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. 

The two soulmates stare for a moment, minds blank as they try to compute what’s actually happening in this moment. The other girl continues eating, chuckling softly.

“Aren’t you going to talk to him?” She nudges her friend forward, earning a glare in response. 

Cheeks burning red, Jungkook’s soulmate chokes out, “Did...did I make you laugh today?”

Jungkook smiles while choking on a sob, stumbling forward until he envelopes his soulmate in his arms. 

“Yes,” he breathes out. “And now you’ve made me cry.”

masterlist

@ddaengineedhelp

[everlarkficexchange]

That’s Just Tachy

Written by: @everybirdfellsilent

Prompt 153: Best friends!Everlark who have always been in love with one another. Katniss is in a pretty serious accident, of course Peeta visits her every single day. He notices that every time he enters the room her heart monitor beeps due to elevated heart rate. He notices and finally mentions to a mutual friend (Madge? Finnick?) how it’s sweet that she gets excited to see her friends, said friend rolls eyes and is like uh yeah ok “friend”. Peeta’s all what? Cue suspicion so next time he visits her he takes it a step further and gives little touches (brushes her hair back, strokes her cheek, grazes her arm? LET IT BURN) to see what happens. Sure enough her HR skyrockets. Tell us all the sweet and suspenseful details :))) [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone] (@peetamewllark)

I do not own The Hunger Games or it’s characters. All credit where credit is due.

Thank you to @xteenwolfwritingsx, @smartalexy, and @papofglencoe for looking this over for me!

Warnings: Some language. (I think?) Mostly just fluff, though. (Rated K-Teen.)

Word count: 6,712

A/N: This didn’t turn out quite how I wanted, but it is what it is. 😆 It was a 2k document I sat down to flush out and suddenly it was over 6k words, so I figured it was time. I like to write where you just jump right in kind of like a TV show, but that didn’t really work for this prompt, and was a sort of learning curve for me. But I still hope you all like it! This was fun to write, and I have loved this prompt from the beginning. (Especially the “LET IT BURN”. Haha! So here are my two lovesick idiots who don’t know it until it’s right in front of their face. I have missed writing for them.)

Xxx

“You guys coming?” Jo called from up at the front of the group as they made their way across the quad. 

Glancing back over her shoulder, Johanna stopped, effectively stopping Gale and Finnick as well, and they all stared at the two stragglers of the group who were locked in some kind of glare off. 

“I don’t trust him,” Katniss stated, her eyes never wavering from his. 

“Me?!” Peeta cried in disbelief. “You’re the one with impeccable aim and on the archery team, why in the world am I the bigger threat here?”

“Because you started it.”

Gale huffed. “Started what?”

“Poking me in the sides at the most inopportune moments all day.”

Gale sighed heavily. “Catnip….”

Her head snapped his way, the glare now on him, she missed the two thumbs up Peeta sent Gale from behind her in thanks. “You know I hate that nickna-”

The rest of her sentence stopped abruptly as she felt two strong and familiar hands start to play her sides like a piano, and it was a wonder she avoided letting out a screech. Batting the hands away with her own, using the thin folder in her hand to swat at them as they tried to come near again, she couldn’t help the smile that crawled across her face, muttering nonsense at the lighthearted taunts Peeta sent her way. 

Finnick rolled his eyes, smiling almost imperceptibly. “Come on, let the lovebirds be.”

As the three up ahead continued on, Peeta and Katniss called a truce, both breathing heavily, an errant chuckle here and there the only noise as they caught their breath. 

“So are you meeting up with Haymitch before work today?” Peeta asked, staring at the ground as they began to follow their friends. 

“Yup,” Katniss nodded, looking at the ground herself, but glancing over at Peeta every now and then. Each time made her heart race just a little bit more, and she wasn’t quite sure how that made her feel. “I need to talk to him about enrolling in one more course, or how to get some extra hours somehow.”

“Well, we’ll meet up when you’re off work later, then, and you can tell me how it went.” He looked up and right at her. “And, you know, if Haymitch doesn’t have any ideas, I can always try and talk to our professors and see where that gets us.” His voice was smooth and deep, and he playfully bumped shoulders with her as they continued to walk. 

She couldn’t help but blush at the implication, knowing Peeta could sell anything to anyone with the way he spoke. “I’ll think about it,” she managed to get out. “But I have to work late tonight, so I’ll just text you when I get off, and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”

“Sure,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief knowing he wouldn’t be poking her for the foreseeable future, making him smirk. “How late?”

“I’m not sure exactly. They just said some may need to stay late.” She shrugged, clutching her folder close to her chest. “But not too late, I don’t think. Definitely before midnight.”

“I’ll see you at midnight, then.”

Xxx

She’d been in an accident. An awful, terrible accident. 

There were more details, he was sure, but his mind tuned out of any further conversation past that. Images flashed in his mind, everything from horrendous to benign, of the condition she was in, or would be in. Did she need surgery? Did she need a kidney? A really big bandaid?

All he knew was that he’d be there for her. They all would. Because that’s what friends do. They protect each other, it’s just what they do.

Xxx

They went in as a group, right before visiting hours were over that same day. 

He didn’t know what exactly he was expecting, but he still had a breath catch in his chest at the sight of her. 

Gale and Johanna were teary eyed as they walked around to the opposite side of the bed, Gale gently taking Katniss’ hand in his where it lay beside her on the bed, and Jo hanging back behind him, almost as if to have a barrier between her and the situation. 

Finnick stood beside Peeta on the opposite side, up by her head, and rested his hand beside her head, supporting his weight. Normally one for a playful nudge or flirtatious tuck of hair behind one’s ear, his lack of physical touch and in fact distance between his hand and her spoke volumes. “Hey, Katniss,” he said softly. The hitch in his voice not missed by anyone in the room, or the shuddering breath he took in after. 

Her eyes fluttered open, and while still somewhat glassy from the pain medicine pumping through her system, she let out a tentative smile, and gently squeezed Gale’s hand back. “Hey,” voice scratchy from lack of use. “What-” she coughed a rattling cough, making everybody in the room cringe. “What happened?”

“You were in an accident,” Finnick’s voice came out much stronger than before, relief painting his tone. “No one else was hurt, they think you just fell asleep at the wheel coming home from work.”

Her pulse kicked up just slightly at the info, but her typical poker face was in full swing. 

“Don’t worry, your job is giving you paid leave until you are totally recovered. You shouldn’t have been working that late, anyway.”

Her eyes flicked over to Peeta as he spoke, her heart monitor seeming to glitch as it registered a missed beat. 

“They just don’t want a lawsuit,” Johanna muttered, causing Katniss to laugh, which turned into a major coughing fit. 

A nurse poked her head in, pushing some buttons on machines that started to let off incessant beeping, and letting them know visiting hours were over. 

They all filed from the room, including the nurse, but Peeta stayed behind. Reaching out to take her hand in his left, he gave it a squeeze, and smiled. “I’ll be back by tomorrow. We’ll go over the assignments coming up.” 

Her heart monitor started an intermittent beeping again, a light flashing at the top. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay.” He reached up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, and the monitor started going crazy, the nurse coming in, lightly scolding him and ushering him from the room. Turning off all the beeping, the only sound was Katniss’ shallow breathing and rapid heart rate. 

One last squeeze to her hand, and he was out the door. He faintly heard the nurse say, “Calm down, honey, your boyfriend can come back by tomorrow.”

Then the monitors started going off again. 

Xxx

True to his word, the next day Peeta showed up as soon as his last class was over, giving him just a few hours with her, as opposed to every other day when his schedule allowed most of the afternoon, if she’d let him stay. 

He smiled at the thought. She did love her time alone. But however long she’d let him stay, he would.

Rounding the corner into her room, he saw Haymitch on the other side of the bed with his hand on her shoulder, grinning down at her, and Katniss sitting more upright than the night before scowling up at him.

Following Haymitch’s glance up, she met Peeta’s eyes, and almost instantly startled away to look at the floor when her heart monitor started beeping like the night before. 

Looking at it with knit eyebrows and a slight smirk, he made his way into the room. “So you got defective machines, huh?”

Pushing a button on the rail of the bed to make the head go up slightly, she sat a little further up, muttering, “Something like that….”

Haymitch snickered, quickly coughing to cover it up, moving to the recliner in the corner of the room, observing them over the top of a magazine he grabbed from atop a nearby table. 

At some point during the exchange, a nurse must have come in and turned off the alert, though Peeta still noticed the rapid beeping of her pulse. 

Holding up the assignments, giving them a little jiggle and raising an eyebrow in question, Peeta set them down on the little rolling table over her on the bed when she gave him a little nod.

Reaching out to touch a few pages absently, she finally muttered in a scratchy voice, “You came back.”

It took a moment before Peeta realized she was talking to him, but he quickly shook his head and said, “I said I would.”

They stared at each other for a moment before the monitor started beeping again, Katniss sighing and reaching out to push a button and silence it. Looking back to Peeta, she held his gaze before darting it all over the room, looking anywhere but him. “They said I could do that.”

Haymitch snorted from behind the magazine, earning daggers of a glare from her. 

“Thanks for coming by, Haymitch. You really didn’t need to.” Her tone was sincere in her thanks, but also very clear in her sarcasm. 

“Nonsense, sweetheart!” He lowered the magazine to his lap, which made a slapping sound against his thighs. Feet propped up on the footrest of the recliner, legs crossed at the ankles, he just smiled. “I’m your advisor, and I’m here to advise in any way I can.” He glanced at Peeta. “On whoever I can.”

He snickered, blocking the tissue box she threw at him with his arm, before pulling the magazine back up to read. 

Chuckling softly, Peeta pulled up a nearby chair to sit next to Katniss. “Luckily, we have all the same classes, except for one, which Finnick will bring by. He gets off before me, so he said he would swing by on his way home.”

Katniss just nodded, staring at the pile of papers on the little table. 

The nurse came in with a little cup of pills. “Time for your medicine!” She glanced at Peeta and smiled. “See? I told you your boyfriend could come back!”

Katniss started choking on the water she had used to take the pills, spluttering as Haymitch guffawed in the corner. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she choked out, taking another quick sip as the nurse pushed the button to silence the alert to her elevated pulse yet again, not even sparing it a glance, taking the empty cup when Katniss was done with a smirk. 

The nurse looked at Peeta with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup, just friends,” he clarified, and wasn’t really sure if he liked the way that made him feel.

“She just really loves her friends. Close knit. Tight bond,” Haymitch said emphatically to the nurse. 

She smiled at him. “I see.”

Xxx

The next day Peeta sat next to Finnick in one of their shared classes, in the back row of the stadium like seating. Finnick leaned back in his chair, hands knit behind his head like he was laying out in the sun lounging on a pool float somewhere.

After a few moments Finnick turned his head just slightly toward Peeta on his right, his eyes still on the ceiling. “So what you’re telling me, is her pulse was elevated the whole time you were there?”

“Yeah,” Peeta said, tossing his hands up a little in exasperation and letting them lightly slap back down on to the desktop. “I was concerned at first, but then,” he smiled, looking down to the desktop for a moment, playing with his pencil, then looking forward again. “Then I realized it was whenever we talked, specifically, not Haymitch or the nurse, and I put it together. She’s just really glad to see her friends, I think. I mean, I don’t blame her, that place is all greys and whites and blah.”

When Finnick didn’t respond, Peeta looked to his left to find Finnick still splayed back, but looking right at him. “Just ‘blah’?” He stared blankly at Peeta. “You think she’s happy - so happy it sets off alarms - that her friends are bringing a dash of color into her world?”

“….Yeah?” Peeta was hesitant to answer, shrugging his shoulders as he responded. 

Rolling his eyes, Finnick rolled his head back toward the ceiling with the movement, scoffing and letting out a small chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Okay, ‘friend’.”

“What-” Peeta huffed, looking for the right words, “What are you- What do you even mean, Finnick?”

Finnick shrugged with a smirk, everyone quieting down when the teacher walked in. Looking to his friends one more time, Finnick spoke in a hushed tone as the teacher began the lecture. “You’re a great friend, Peeta.”

They both looked forward toward the lecture happening in front of them, but Peeta wasn’t absorbing anything, his mind going a million miles a minute trying to figure out what Finnick meant. 

He had his suspicions, but, no…. Surely not. Finnick was crazy.

Xxx

He had waited until the end of the visit to test Finnick’s theory. 

As he went over the notes he had taken, reading them aloud to Katniss while she sat with the bed a little straighter up than the day before, her head back and eyes closed while she listened, he kept looking at her. Wondered what was going on in her head. Silently daring her to open her eyes and meet his. 

Shaking his head as Finnick’s voice echoed in his head, he went back to staring at the paper as he read, not even looking up.

The medicine she was on for pain made everything blurry, so he had volunteered to read to her. But as he went on, he found himself unconsciously speaking to the rhythm of her heart monitor, her pulse holding steady for the time being. And he couldn’t help the little grin that came across his face.

“And that’s it,” he said, closing his notebook and looking up to see Katniss blinking her eyes open, letting them readjust to the hospital room’s bright lights. 

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice a little stronger than the day before. 

Reaching out like the day she came in here, he gently took her hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze. “Don’t mention it.”

He glanced to the monitor that registered what looked to be a missed beat or two, but her pulse stayed fairly even, going slightly higher, but not enough to set off any alarm bells - on the machine or in his head.

The nurse came by and poked her head in the door, announcing that visiting hours were almost over, then came all the way in to the other side of the bed. 

Katniss looked at the needle in her hand with disgust. “I hate this medicine,” she said offhandedly. “It is supposed to help me sleep, but it just gives me nightmares.” Looking at Peeta as the nurse injected the medicine into her IV, her pulse started to quicken. 

Absentmindedly packing up his stuff, Peeta looked to the monitor when it finally started beeping and flashing. Swinging his backpack onto his shoulder, he noticed a particularly high spike, setting off new alarms he hadn’t heard before, and he looked to Katniss worriedly. 

As the nurse came around the foot of the bed to turn off the machines, fiddling with them after the blaring stopped, Katniss spoke quietly, “Peeta. Stay with me?”

It was a question, not a statement or demand, and he so wanted to give in and ease her mind as she fell asleep, but visiting hours were over. 

Katniss looked like she was starting to drift off to sleep, reaching for him blindly with the hand he had held moments before. 

The nurse looked between them, smiled and winked at Peeta as she made her way out of the room. “I’ll come check on her in a few hours. You know, she is allowed one person to stay with her.”

Setting his backpack on the ground, Peeta went to the hand still outstretched for him, and held it tight. 

“Peeta?” Her voice was small and barely awake.

“Yeah. I’m here. Go back to sleep.” He went to go over to the recliner in the corner, but her hand clutched his with a strength he didn’t think had returned to her yet, keeping him beside her. 

“Stay with me.”

This time it wasn’t a question but a statement, a demand, and it made him smile. Glancing to the monitor again, he saw her heart rate settle back down as the chair he had moved over earlier scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to her bedside, still clutching her hand tightly in his own.

“Always,” he said matter of factly, as if any other answer were wrong. 

Resting his chin on his hand, giving hers one last squeeze, he stared at her and smiled softly. He found himself yawning and drifting off to sleep soon, preparing for the nightmares, and dreading the moment he would finally have to let go.

Xxx

Peeta woke to sunlight hitting his eyes, blinking them open only to squint and lift up his left arm to block the rays slipping through the blinds. Looking toward Katniss, he saw her staring at him, already wide awake, and she even smiled a little bit. 

“Good morning,” she said, her voice leaps and bounds better than previous days. 

“Morning,” Peeta mumbled, sitting up from where his head still rested on his hand, groaning at his stiff back stretching for the first time in hours, and swiping at his face, hoping he hadn’t drooled in his sleep. His hand froze over his eye as he blearily gave it a rub when he heard a giggle.

Eyes snapping to Katniss, he saw her smiling broadly and uninhibited. “You really aren’t a morning person, are you?” she asked.

Yawning, Peeta spoke through the stretch. “You’re really a morning person, aren’t you?”

She threw her head back and laughed the first real laugh he had heard in days. Leaving her head back against the bed she sighed. “No,” she said honestly, and they both chuckled. “No, I’m really not, but that was the first night of sleep I have had since being here, and I guess I needed it, so thank you.”

Reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Peeta let his hand linger, and heard the monitor spike, making him smile. “I can tell. Your hair is crazy.” 

She scowled at him but it melted into a chuckle and pink cheeks.

Letting his hand fall slightly, down to her cheeks, he traced the back of his finger over her blush. “You’re getting your color back. That’s good.”

She reached up to grab his wrist gently, groaning what sounded an embarrassed reply. 

“Hang on,” he mumbled, and she lightly held on to his wrist as he moved down to trace her lips with his thumb.

Her breath hitched and the monitor beeped faster again. 

Grinning impishly, he swiped his thumb on the side of her mouth as if wiping something off, and said softly, “You drool.”

She shoved his hand away, once again trying to scowl but ended up snickering along with him as he jokingly wiped his hand on his jeans, making a ridiculous face before chuckling himself.

Xxx

Since it was a Saturday, Peeta took his time, lingering at her bedside, and lounging in the chair he had slept in, despite Katniss telling him repeatedly to go sit in the recliner in the corner, so he would be more comfortable. 

Instead of comfort, he took the chance to sit by her and steal a glance every now and then, since he no longer got to do it in class. He always felt a sense of calm when looking at her, much like last night, when Katniss’ heart rate had calmed down when he agreed to stay. Something just felt right. 

They brought her a breakfast tray, if it could even be called that. Peeta stared at the tray just like it that sat in his lap, thanking the nurse who had given it to him with a wink and a smirk, and trying to decide what exactly was on the tray that they were trying to pass off as “food”. 

Standing up after the nurse left, he walked his tray over to the nearby counter, turning to see Katniss glaring at him. 

“If I have to eat this, you have to eat this,” she hissed, gesturing to the food then him with her fork. 

Peeta gulped. “How about we share?”

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him briefly, before mumbling a “fine”, looking back to the food and picking at the imposter waffles. 

The TV was playing softly in the background, the only other noise aside from Katniss’ incessant fidgeting. 

“Are you okay?” Peeta asked after what felt like the millionth time, and tried to swallow the “waffles” that didn’t seem to want to be eaten as much as he didn’t want to eat them.

Katniss grimaced. “Yeah, it’s just,” she fidgeted again. “This is the most uncomfortable bed, and I can’t find a way to help it anymore. They changed my medication to something a little less potent, so now I’m feeling all the aches and pains and itches and everything glorious.”

Peeta chuckled. “Well, how about we get up and walk around the hallways a little bit, and after that I can give you a little massage?” He had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling at her wide eyes. He didn’t need a machine to know her pulse was elevated, her cheeks gave that away as they tinged pink. Ever since Finnick had made his “observation” the day before, he’d found himself being much bolder than he had ever been before. “I mean, it can’t be too much different than kneading bread….”

Katniss simultaneously choked and chuckled at the same time. “The medicine I’m due for in a few minutes makes me really dizzy, and I’d have to use the walker, and-”

“And I’ll help you,” Peeta interrupted, earning him a scowl. “I’ll walk right beside you in case you need help, and catch you if you start to fall.”

“And if I can’t walk the whole time you’ll go find me a wheelchair at the nurses station, right?” Katniss rolled her eyes with a little scoff, but her cheeks still bloomed in a bright blush. 

“No, I’ll just carry you if it comes to that.”

“Oh.” Was all Katniss could muster, a short decisive nod in confirmation as she sat the bed up all the way, lowering her propped up feet and pushing away the tray of “food”. “Could I- I mean, Can you-” she stuttered out, timidly reaching her hand out in a request for help up.

Peeta scrambled to his feet, immediately offering his hand to help her sit totally upright, easing her legs over the side of the bed and lowered the rail on the side to help her even more. 

She turned toward the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off the edge in the yellow socks with grippy bottoms they kept replacing every day, and flitted her eyes over to the walker in the corner, Peeta following her gaze and immediately reaching over with his long reach to grab it, placing it in front of her. 

“Can I have my robe, please?” she asked in a small voice, pointing to where it hung on the bathroom door. “These hospital gowns are drafty in all the wrong places.” She pulled a hand down her face, sighing at the words that kept coming out of her mouth. “Sorry, too much information.”

Peeta smiled as he handed her the robe. “No, I get it. I’ve been in here once or twice, remember?”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah, I remember.”

As Peeta helped her into the robe, he also smiled sadly. Staring at the floor, memories he’d rather forget started flashing through his mind. He must have spaced out, or maybe he clutched her shoulders just a little too tightly, but the next thing he really registered was Katniss holding his face in her hands, searching his face frantically. 

“Stay with me,” she echoed her words from last night, once again not a question, but a matter of fact. 

Locking his eyes on hers, he found the fog clearing. Swallowing thickly, he nodded, letting his gaze dart around the room. “Thanks,” he finally muttered, smiling sadly one last time before he cleared his throat and smiled a bit more genuinely. “Now quit procrastinating.” 

Xxx

They made it a few laps around the floor before Katniss was too tired to make one more round. When they passed back by her room, they went in and saw that the food trays had been removed, thankfully, and the bed linens changed. At the foot of the bed sat a new hospital gown, bright yellow and folded neatly, on top of it a matching set of those same yellow socks. 

“Feel up to changing?” Peeta asked her as he helped slip off her robe, carrying it back to the hook on the bathroom door. 

“I guess,” Katniss sighed, her breathing labored. “Makes the most sense to do it before getting back in bed.” 

“Let me know if you need any help,” he said, holding the bathroom door open as she shuffled by, the gown and socks clutched tightly to her chest with one hand, the other holding the back of the hospital gown together as best she could. 

Closing the door all but a sliver, Peeta stood right outside in case she needed help, absently staring at the TV. His mind was far away, though, thinking about all the times he had been the one in here, and she had visited and helped him. He didn’t dwell on the reason he was there, but the fact she had come to help. 

“Peeta?” Her small voice echoing around the small bathroom caught his attention. 

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat.

“I need some help tying this gown.”

Now it was his turn to have his cheeks go pink. Nothing is more awkward than a hospital gown. The door slowly swung open, and her back was revealed to him, her hands clutching the back tightly around her hips, but her back was on full display, making him swallow thickly. 

It was moments like these that he found himself getting lost in an emotion he only ever felt around her, but he never fully understood. If he had to describe it, it was how he pictured love feeling.

Slowly walking into the little room, he stepped up behind her, closer than needed, and noticed she was shaking as he reached for the little ties. 

“Are you cold?”

“Y-yeah,” she stuttered out, looking at the floor. 

Slowly tying a double knotted bow so it wouldn’t slip open on accident, Peeta accidentally brushed his fingertips on the soft exposed skin of her back, and she instantly stilled. “Is that too tight?” he asked softly. 

“N-no. But can you tie the top one a little looser? I think when I sit down it might be just a little too tight.”

He nodded, reaching up to tie the top strings in just one bow in case she wanted to adjust it, and his skin brushed her clavicle, making her shiver once again. 

Leaning in toward her ear, he spoke in a low voice, “Can you please hold your hair up? I don’t want to get it caught in the strings.” 

The shivering turned into a violent shudder before she nodded, lifting her hair up with her free hand not clutching the lower part of the gown closed, and took deep, steadying breaths.

“Thank you,” she breathed, letting go of her hair as he set his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back flush with his front gently, and placing his chin gently on one shoulder, his cheek right by her ear.

“Don’t mention it,” he said in a quiet tone much like her own. With their bodies so close, he could feel her rapid heartbeat against his own, and they both were above average.

“I’ll let you take care of the lower ties.” He took a few steps back before turning to go back to the room. Her voice so close behind him startled him. 

“I think I will leave those open. I’ll be under the covers anyway, and it makes it a little easier to move and sit in that bed. But I could use your help switching out these socks…. If you don’t mind.” She smiled timidly. “Bending over is still really hard.”

Nodding, he gestured her to the bed and helped her sit on the edge. Pulling off the old pair and putting on the new, he heard her hooking the various little monitors back up as she settled back in. Looking up he saw her plug the pulse monitor back in and immediately the machine started blaring like it had before. Looking up at her with wide eyes, they both glanced at the monitor as the nurse came in and turned it off. 

“Why does that keep happening?” Peeta questioned her. “Isn’t that something bad?”

The nurse smiled kindly at him. “That? Oh, that’s just tachycardia. Elevated heart rate. The machine has certain parameters set for ‘normal’ and sometimes exertion or excitement can make your pulse shoot up to what the parameters deem ‘too high’. It’s completely safe.” 

She leaned into Peeta. “But between you and me, I think it’s just you in general that keeps making hers go off. You have some effect on her, no one else who visits has it going off this much. Someone named Finnick had it going, but she was laughing really hard. Haymitch seems to put her in a bad mood - or annoyed - and that sets it off sometimes. But you, you make it go off the most. I’d be very unhappy about that if she wasn’t looking so much better having you here.” The machine went off again, and the nurse glanced at a mortified looking Katniss before smiling knowingly at Peeta. “Just push this button if it happens again.” Reaching out she silenced the machine once again, winking at Katniss, before promptly leaving the room. 

Katniss and Peeta just stared at one another for a long moment before he clapped his hands together and said, “Now how about that massage?”

He reached out and shut off the machine before it let out too many alerts.

Xxx

If he had thought it through, tying the gown before the massage wasn’t the brightest idea, but he was so glad he had because it was one more excuse to be so close to her. He was surprised she wasn’t swatting him away with how ticklish she tended to be. 

The head of the bed was lowered enough for him to squeeze in behind her, and they finally settled on her sitting between his legs as she hugged a pillow to her front as she slightly bent forward, and laid her head on a pillow on the little rolling table they had locked to sit in front of her. Her head was turned to her right so he could see her profile, and her typical braid going over her shoulder had been done so he could have easier access to her shoulders and neck. 

He wanted to take a moment to just admire her, but he understood the horribleness of a hospital bed, and went to working on her shoulders immediately. Working from the bottom of her shoulder blades up to the top of her neck, he tried to be gentle not entirely sure what might still hurt from the accident, but dug in to the knots he found, earning appreciative groans from her. 

He worked down to her lower back, right above her hips was as much as he could get to, and he made a mental note to ask the nurse for a heating pad next time she came in. Even his baker trained hands couldn’t work that tension out without some help.

“Is the pressure okay?” He kept asking, to which she answered a groggy sounding yes every time. Finally instead of an answer he got a snore in response. Glancing to her face he saw her peacefully asleep, not even a flinch as he found yet another knot near her shoulder blade. He worked on it gently for a few minutes, not seeing her flinch once, but finally decided that was enough for now. 

Someone cleared their throat to his left, and he snapped his head to see Finnick leaning in the doorway, ankles crossed, arms crossed over his chest, and a smirk across his face that was absolutely beaming. 

“Friends,” he said quietly, but with emphasis, snickering, before hanging his head and gently shaking it.

Double knotting the one tie and loosely tying the top one again, Peeta slowly eased out of the bed, taking the pillow Katniss was hugging and adding it to the one that had been behind his back, slowly lowering her back until she was laying on the slight incline of the bed, her snoring not wavering once. He took the pillow her head had been on on the tray and gave it to her to hug like the other one, and she clutched it tight, snuggling into the blankets he pulled back up over her.

Walking past Finnick, Peeta gave him a dirty look before continuing out into the hall, pulling him along by the elbow when Finnick didn’t follow, closing the door all but a crack so he would hear if she woke up or the machines went off. 

Finnick was just smirking.

“Why did you have to say anything the other day?” Peeta hissed. “Everything was fine until then, and now I can’t think about anything else.”

“Could you before? Really?” Finnick prodded. “I mean, sure, you didn’t sit an analyze her heart rate, but can you honestly tell me you didn’t think about her, look at her and get that feeling you can’t really describe but understand, and just know this person is supposed to be in your life?” It was quiet for a minute before Finnick spoke in a softer voice. “I get it, man.” He put a hand on Peeta’s shoulder, despite Peeta’s arms still being firmly crossed. “It’s the same feeling I get-”

“Let me guess, it’s the same feeling you get when you see me?” Peeta’s sarcasm was off the charts. 

Finnick threw his head back and laughed. “Well, yeah, but in a different way. No, man, it’s how I feel when I see Annie.” Peeta’s face softened at the mention of Finnick’s fiancé. “And no matter how long we have been together, that feeling doesn’t change. It gets more comfortable, yeah, but it’s the same feeling, same emotion.” He smiled a goofy smile and looked off in the distance over Peeta’s shoulder. “It’s like…. You look at them and….” He met Peeta’s gaze again, “you know you’re home.”

Peeta had to glance over his shoulder to see if Annie was actually there, because the way Finnick had stared down that hallway, Peeta was almost certain she had to be there. 

Letting his arms drop as he sighed, his shoulders hunching, Peeta rested his forehead on Finnick’s chest and groaned softly. 

Snickering, Finnick pushed him to arms length, hands on his shoulders, and gently shook him until he met his eyes again. “You’re here. You’re safe. This is real.” He sighed. “It’s a really messed up situation, but it’s where you are.” He grinned impishly. “Now go get her and tell her you love her, you idiot, before I do.”

Gently shoving Peeta back toward the room, all thought of flipping Finnick the bird faded from his mind when he heard Katniss sleeping fitfully, moaning softly in what sounded like pain or distress, and her monitor registering a higher and higher pulse rate. 

The nurses words about what causes the elevation came back to him, and Peeta was in the room and beside her faster than Finnick could say “go”. 

The door shut softly behind him, but it was enough to make Katniss sit upright in bed, wide eyed, immediately grimacing and groaning as she grabbed her midsection.

Peeta put a hand on her shoulder, and she immediately flinched, but looking up and seeing his face, relief washed over her features, and her pulse began to calm down. “You’re okay,” he reassured softly. 

“Thank you,” she all but whispered. “I am now that you’re here.”

They looked at one another and shared a soft smile, their eye contact never wavering. 

“Scoot over,” Peeta said simply, jutting his chin forward as if to motion to her which way to go.

“What? Why?” Katniss asked, but did as he asked. 

Slipping his shoes off, Peeta took the pillow she had been hugging away form her, ignoring her lighthearted protests, and stuck it a bit further up than her pillows, and climbed in the bed in the spot she had made for him. Pulling the sheets up over them, he laid his head on the pillow slightly further up, and gently pulled her so that she was resting on his chest, hugging him like she had clutched the pillow. 

“You slept better leaning forward when I was giving you the massage, I figured this might help-”

They heard a snort from the doorway and both looked to see Finnick in the exact position he had been in only minutes earlier. “You two idiots are going to be the death of me,” he muttered softly with a smirk, hanging his head once again with a gentle shake.

Looking back to one another, Peeta began again after a moment of silence, “Really, it was just an instinct, I’m sorry if I- I can get out of you want-”

He was cut off by Katniss firmly planting a kiss on his lips. Pulling away just enough to speak, she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Always,” Peeta responded without even thinking.

They both smiled when they heard Finnick whoop and say something about “finally” from down the hall before the door clicked shut.

Searching each other’s face, eyes flitting this way and that, from lips to eyes to nose to lashes, the space between them slowly began to close again, until it finally disappeared and was lost in a kiss, then another, and some more. 

In longing touches, laughter, and whispered discussions. 

Stolen glances and hidden smiles. 

The distance between them stayed small, much like the distance between each heart beat, until finally the nurses cleared her to no longer need the monitor. Probably more for their own sanity than anything else. 

When she finally got dressed in normal clothes and was discharged, she came out of the bathroom after braiding her hair, and smiled as Peeta waited for her by the door, his own broad smile across his face, one hand outstretched for her. When they were within touching distance, he firmly gripped her hand with his, reaching out to touch the tip of her braid with the other, fiddling with it absentmindedly, a goofy grin on his face.

Walking the few feet to the waiting wheelchair the hospital insisted she leave in, Peeta let go of her hand, but stayed as close as he could. After she finally was in the passenger seat of his car, he once again took her hand across the console, threaded their fingers together, and they both smiled. 

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Looking at him now, she understood her feelings of only a few days ago, walking through the quad with stolen glances. 

“Ready,” she said. 

Shifting the car into gear, Peeta gave her one more dazzling grin, and one last squeeze of her hand, before he turned to look at the road, and they rode in comfortable silence, and that wonderful feeling, of knowing that that special someone loves you back. 

After a few minutes, Peeta finally piped up, “Just so you know, that truce I called in the quad the other day? That only extends a few more days.”

Katniss turned a glare on him and he snickered.

[benscursedkid]

Hello! I saw your holiday prompts and may I request number 9 for my character Diana Venera with Felix Rosier? (´⊙ω⊙`)

(Diana is the same age as Felix, and she's a Gryffindor. Her group of friends consisted of the prefects. They have this rivals-turn-lovers kind of relationship) (´⊙ω⊙`)

9. “the snowball fight started out with more people i swear but somehow we’re the only ones left and i will win this”

This, Felix wants to stress for the record, was absolutely not his fault.

Just like any good prefect should, Felix was simply minding his business in the fountain courtyard. A charm cast to keep him warm and a book in his lap, he figured with most students away at Hogsmeade this weekend that it would allow him some privacy and good ‘ol alone time. This year’s first years seem to be making it their personal responsibility to give him a hard time.

He also made the unfortunate mistake of trusting a certain curse breaking second year to keep their nose out of places it doesn’t belong. At least now he knows to never make it again.

Though, he really should have known that something like this was likely to happen. Venera appears to have a knack for testing his patience and catching him at the most inopportune of times. His extended moment of content was too good to be true.

And he had just gotten comfortable too.

Felix turns the next page of his novel, just getting to what he thinks might be the big climax—

—when a snowball pelts the back of his head.

Parts of the ruined snowball fall onto the book in his lap, melting into the pages. The nape of his neck is ice cold and wet, strands of his dark hair even beginning to drip where he had taken the brunt of the impact. Slamming his book shut and shoving it into his bag, Felix spins to glare withering across the courtyard where the snowball had originated...

Only to find Venera, standing there with a thinly veiled smirk, sharing a high five with Angelica. Felix bristles as the sight and Diana produces the audacity to wave at him, her spirits clearly bright.

He marches over in a few long strides, pulling his coat tighter around himself on instinct. Angelica wanders away with ease, deciding to let them battle it into amongst each other. Felix has half a mind to demand she stay and answer for aiding in the offense herself, but he doesn’t get the chance to as Diana cuts him off before he can make up his mind.

“What’s wrong, Rosier?” She drawls, her lip curled upward in amusement. “Afraid of a little snow?”

Felix clicks his tongue in an effort to remain calm and sighs as he comes to a stop in front of her. “Not afraid, no, but bothered yes.”

Venera snorts, pushing her spectacles up her nose and running a hand through her dark hair—left out of a ponytail today, he notices. Only to then questions by exactly he would notice something like that and shoves the thought away.

“So sorry,” She snickers in a way that alerts Felix plainly to the fact that, no, she isn’t sorry. “You just looked so cosy over there, I couldn’t resist.”

“Please do try to in the future, Venera. I’d hate to have to dock you points for inappropriate conduct on school grounds.”

The Gryffindor rolls her eyes, her smirk slipping some but not falling away completely as she looks up at him. “For having a snowball fight? You mean you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“You mean you have nothing better to do with your time than come up with even more less creative ways to irritate me—”

“Angelica!” Growls a familiar voice behind him and the two of them turn to see Jane—who has apparently just walked into the courtyard with Chester—completely covered in fallen snow.

Her cheeks are flushed from both anger and the cold but Angelica simply grins with an easy shrug of her shoulders. “Might want to watch your step. Falling snow and all that.”

Jane glowers and chucks her bag to the side, flicking her fringe out of her eyes. “Oh, I’ll show you falling snow!”

With that said, the teen stoops to gather some snow, but Felix’s attention is caught by a separate snowball being hurled at Chester instead. It lands its target on his chest and Diana giggles beside him. The two males turn identical looks of indignance on her, but she just grins and sashays away out of reach.

Thus all out chaos erupts as the five of them spread out around the courtyard, chucking and dodging snowballs as they fly past. No one is safe and no one picks sides as they all turn on each other.

Admittedly, this strikes a spark of competition in Felix’s blood that he tries his best to keep under lock and key. His aim is precise, his targets calculated.

Diana in particular proves to be a worthy opponent, aside from all her trash talk. Her reflexes are quick and every movement radio silent. He loses her a few times, left to hide until she emerges once again.

It is during one such occasions, that Felix spots Angelica, Jane, and Chester sitting by the corridor, having dropped out of the fight some minutes ago. With a start, Felix realizes that only him and Diana are left.

He is not given long to chew on that thought, however, as Diana jumps up from one of her hiding spots, sprinting across the courtyard and over to him. In turn, Felix removes himself from his own cover and goes to meet her halfway, snow in hand.

But then she slips. The snow shifts under her feet as they catch on a spot of ice and Diana falls forward. Instinct pushes him to reach out, try to catch her, but that only serves to pull him down with her.

Thankfully, their fall is blanketed by a thick carpet of snow, Diana’s head protected. Felix lands on top of her, his hands reaching out just in time to catch himself a little. Felix props himself up on his palms, hesitating to look down at the position they have gotten themselves in.

But when he does, he finds that Diana is actually smiling. Not the coy, impish smirk he’s grown accustomed to seeing on her face, but a bright, dazzling smile that throws him entirely off-guard. With her dark hair spread around her like a halo in the white snow, and her nose and cheeks rosy, her eyes sparkling like diamonds Diana inches just a bit closer with a dangerous flash of mischief dancing across her expression.

“Sorry, Rosier, better luck next time.”

Blinking back his confusion, Felix opens his mouth to reply but Diana reaches up to crush a final snowball against his cheek.

“You lose.”

[jacklyn-flynn]

It’s here! The burn is over! There’s a teaser below the cut and you can find the whole chapter here! I hope you like smut because this chapter is over 9k and is 90% raw, unadulterated garbage. Enjoy!

Jules didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. She was beyond mortified and loathed anyone finding out about Cullen’s rejection, but at the same time the thought of being alone was too much to bear. Bull knew, but there was no way she would get all the way down to the hanger without being seen. Her frantic attempt to zip up her coveralls had resulted in the zipper pull snapping off. She’d left her shirt in Cullen’s room so the only thing keeping her covered was the tight grip on both sides of the top of her suit. 

At some point, she noticed Jasoom walking beside her, or rather trotting to keep up with her quick steps. Jules found herself letting him lead as he slipped in front of her. Up to the next level and then toward the front of the ship. He led her in a circuitous route to the mess hall and then further into the Officer’s Club. She suspected he was keeping her away from those walking through the corridors. 

The Officer’s Club was also empty, save for El who sat behind the bar reading a book with her chin rested on her hand. Jules realized that she was exactly the right person to see and silently thanked the cat for leading her there. The elf didn’t notice her until Jules tried and failed to hold back a choking sob. El looked up sharply and her eyes widened. Her book fell to the bar, immediately forgotten as she moved around quickly to meet Jules in the middle of the room. 

“Sweetheart, what happened to you?” She was mostly alarmed at Jules’s state of dress. She quickly drew the black and blue plaid shirt from her shoulders, revealing one arm covered in intricately designed tattoos from shoulder to fingers. “You put this on and I’ll lock the door.” 

Jules let the top of the jumpsuit fall, sliding on the soft flannel and buttoning it up with shaky fingers. She tied the arms of her coveralls around her waist before hugging herself. El took her elbow gently and led her to the nearest table, pulling a chair out for her. 

“First, are you hurt?” El asked gently, sitting beside her and leaning in without invading her space. Jules shook her head, eyes glittering with tears. “Do you want to tell me what happened, or do you just want me to sit with you?” 

“I ruined everything,” Jules declared in a shaky whisper. “I told him about-” she hesitated, looking down and away from El’s concerned gaze, “I told him about before. Before all of this. The First Commander of the Herald-I thought it was my job-he told me it was my job to have sex with him. Cullen and I were-we were-” 

“It’s okay, take your time,”  El said gently when Jules was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Jules’s shoulder rose and fell and she put her hand on it, rubbing the muscles that were growing tight from the repeated nervous gesture that had plagued her entire trip to the bar. 

“He asked me about my past, with other men and I told him. I didn’t really want to, I was scared but I didn’t want to lie to him. I should have lied.” She looked up at El, tears streaming down her cheeks again. “The way he looked at me, like I was dirty. He backed off like I had burned him. I was so stupid to think that I could-” 

“Absolutely not.” El’s stern voice interrupted her. “There is nothing stupid about you, sweetheart. I promise you that Cullen doesn’t think that you’re “dirty” or used or anything else you may be thinking about yourself. I think he was surprised by your answer. Everyone on this ship can easily see that he’s smitten with you.” 

She shifted her weight on the chair. “Put yourself in his shoes. Someone you care about, who has never had it easy, is starting to open up. You’re seeing them grow and smile and make friends. And then you find out that someone took advantage of them in such a profound and intimate way at such an incredibly vulnerable moment. I’m not saying that how he reacted was right, but I can tell you that I don’t think he meant for it to happen the way that it did.” El’s gentle voice made her want to cry, but for a completely different reason than before. 

“Can I call someone for you or take you home?” Her smile was contagious and Jules found herself forcing one as well. 

“You're working. I shouldn't have bothered you."

"Nonsense. You're never a bother." El stood and watched with a smile as Jasoom jumped onto the table, then Jules’s shoulder before the woman herself stood. They walked back to her quarters in silence and Jules was simply grateful for someone who was willing to listen and not judge. Just be with her. “Take your time, maybe a hot shower and a nap. If you’re feeling better, you should go talk to Cullen.” 

“Talk to Cullen about what?” Morgan’s voice surprised her and she looked over El’s shoulder to find him standing in his doorway. He was apparently on his way out and at the most inopportune moment. 

“Nothing,” Jules tried to reassure him quickly. He looked skeptical and Jules was sure her tear stained cheeks and red eyes spoke volumes. Morgan nodded absently and walked away. 

“You know Morgan won’t judge you. If you want to talk to someone, you could talk to him too.” El suggested. 

“He’ll be so mad,” Jules countered, wringing her hands nervously.

“Not at you babe.” El smiled and squeezed her arm. “He’ll be mad at that long-dead fucker who doesn’t have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Will you be okay by yourself or do you want me to stay with you?” 

“I think I’ll be okay. Do you really think Cullen isn’t mad at me?” She hated to ask for reassurance, especially since El had already said as much, but she needed to hear it again. 

“I’m sure the only one he’s mad at is himself.” El chuckled and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You know where to find me if you need me and if you call, I’ll be here in five minutes or less.” 

“Thank you, Elbereth. Especially for not thinking less of me.” Jules spoke softly, as if she were afraid saying the words would reveal that she did think less of her. 

“I don’t see that ever happening.” The elf’s contagious smile left her with a little bit of warmth after she’d departed. 

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

Cullen paced his room, fists clenched and jaw tight. Moron. Idiot. Fool. He’d searched all over for her. Each of the engine compartments, parts rooms, anywhere she might go to distract herself with work. She didn't answer her door. He’d even reached out to Cass, Zevran and Bull to see if they’d seen her. No luck. 

The chime of his door made his head snap up. As it slid open, he started to speak, ready to go into the apology he’d been going over obsessively in his head. Instead, pain exploded in his cheek and he suddenly found himself on the floor with lights flashing behind his eyes. His vision cleared and he found Morgan standing over him. 

“I told you I would fucking kill you. Did you think I was joking?” His voice was low and aggressive. “How long has she been crying?” 

Cullen brushed the back of his hand against his cheek and corner of his mouth, relieved to find it free of blood. “Did you see her?” He sounded far too excited for Morgan’s liking. 

“She was going into her room and it looked like she’d been sobbing. Think very carefully before you answer; what the fuck did you do?” Cullen already knew by the tone of his voice what would happen if Morgan didn’t like the answer. While he might normally have a fair shot at beating the younger Trevelyan, Morgan had fury on his side this time and that was a very powerful thing. 

“I over-reacted and said something stupid.” He sat up, propped up with one arm behind him, the other rubbing his sore jaw. “The old Commander of The Herald was….I don’t know if it’s my place to say.” 

“You’d better try,” Morgan growled. 

“He was raping her.” Cullen was reluctant to reveal Jules’s secret. “The worst part is he convinced her it was her job. Made her go to him willingly.” The last word dripped with disgust. “When she said it was because he was the First Commander-the thought of her being with me because of my title-I didn’t react well. By the time I realized what I’d said and how it could have sounded to her...she was gone. I’ve looked everywhere for her. Her comms are off and no one has seen her. Jasoom isn’t answering me. I don’t know what to do, but I need to apologize. I need to set things straight. If she never wants to see me again, I’ll go back to Haven and run the Inquisition’s army from there but I have to at least tell her first. ” 

“Tell her what?” Morgan’s narrowed eyes softened slightly. 

Cullen sighed, roughly running his hand through his hair. “How I feel about her.” He shook his head slightly with a huff of a laugh. “I’d tell you what that is, but she should hear the words before anyone else. If she still wants me to leave, I’ll go willingly. Or, you can kill me and jettison my body into the cold depths of space.” 

Morgan grinned then. “You’re sweet on her. More than I thought you were. As long as you know that you still deserved that punch. I’m not even a little sorry about that.” 

“You’re completely right,” Cullen agreed, rubbing his sore jaw, “I did deserve that.” 

“I saw her going into her room with that cute little elf from the bar. I know you want to talk to her, but give her some time. Let her come to you.” Morgan meant for it to come out as friendly advice, but it was slightly more menacing than that. Regardless of Cullen’s intentions, his aunt was hurting. The aunt he’d come to think of as a sister. “And now you know that I wasn’t fucking around.” 

Cullen snorted when he laughed and accepted Morgan's outstretched hand to pull himself back up.. “That was never in doubt, Trevelyan.”

[big-bad-ulf]

Untethered || Ulfric & Luce

Location: Dell’s Tavern

Timing: Before the last full moon

Tagging: @big-bad-ulf and @divineluce

Content: Family death mentions, thoughts/discussion of self-harming behaviors, alcohol abuse

Description: Ulfric and Luce lower their guard after a night of drinking and have a more successful heart-to-heart about their respective losses. If swearing loyalty to each other’s revenge plots can be considered a ‘success’

Grabbing the next round of beers from the bar, Luce walked back to the high top table she and Ulf were sitting at in the corner of Dell’s. The noise of the tavern was a comforting sound to her-- the roar of sports games playing on the screens in lieu of a band playing music. Balancing the two large steins of beer in her hands, Luce slid one across the table to Ulf and took her seat across from him. Lifting the large glass up in his direction, she gave him a slightly unsteady grin She’d matched him drink for drink which would have been fine… if he wasn’t a beast of a man. In a literal sense. Werewolf metabolism had to do something for processing alcohol. Whereas she was decidedly neither of those things. Taking a long drink from her glass, she nodded a bit more emphatically than she normally would, “When you’re right, you’re right. This German stuff is pretty fucking good.” Setting the glass back down, she idly pressed the back of her forearm against the glass, pressing one of her bruises to the cold surface.

Walking into Dell's this time had felt disconcerting, the place familiar yet slightly foreign after his prolonged absence. While both Bennets and Layla had resided under his roof Ulfric had always needed to be on watch, always needed a clear head. Now that threat was gone and there was no one waiting up for him, so he was free to unwind, the buzz of activity and alcohol keeping him from dwelling for too long on how that change in situation came to pass. "Those American light beers have no taste, they practically go down like water." Ulfric insisted as he took a long drink from the stein Luce place in front of him, repeating the argument he'd made several times throughout the night with increasing conviction as the beverages kicked in. "That's new, since I saw you last," He mentioned, casting a glance down at the bruised arm she pressed against the glass, the observation that he'd usually keep to himself finding its way out past his lowered inhibitions. "Did sword training get a little hands on?" He continued, providing a half-hearted out as an apology for stepping slightly over the line they'd drawn regarding talking about each other's personal bullshit. "I wouldn't have thought that would be allowed. Doesn't it defeat the purpose of, well, swords?" 

“Yeah, yeah, American beer sucks, Budlight is basically pisswater, Coors may as well be La Croix of beer.” Luce said before drinking deeply from her mug, letting the cold carbonation rush down her throat. The bar around her was just a little fuzzy at the edges, which was just how she wanted it. Made things easier, to see it through a filter like this. And there was no better filter than a beer or four. Glancing down at her bruised forearm, as though she didn’t realize what he was talking about, Luce shrugged. Adam had fucked her up. Granted, she knew he’d been holding back-- Hunter strength and all that jazz. If he had wanted to, he could have broken her arm, broken her ribs without even trying. But, even with the pulled punches, she was still sore and bruised all over. Which was exactly what she wanted. “Nah, me and a dude beat the shit out of each other in the woods.” She said, the truth slipping out easily over the rim of her stein. “No swords involved, otherwise I probably would be really fucked up.” She said with a laugh. Training swords, even synthetic training blades, were still weapons. Still dangerous. Still very capable of knocking out teeth and breaking bone. It was a good fucking thing they’d stuck to hand to hand.

“Yes, it’s all fun and games until someone gets stabbed, I suppose.” Ulfric tried to match her laugh, to restore the bubble of alcohol-infused levity that had previously surrounded them, but it was a little strangled and forced. Somehow he seemed to have crossed the threshold between contentedly tipsy and sad, wallowing drunk, creeping over the line between the two without realizing it. Though in fairness to himself, with the way his vision was slightly blurring it would’ve been difficult to see it. “That sounds like the sort of thing I would do, the woods part, especially,” The werewolf conceded, he could hardly just her for brawling, but it just didn’t fit her style. With her powers, as he understood them, no one should’ve been able get near her, at least without risking a fiery retaliation. Which meant something was wrong, or she’d let herself get hurt, which was even more wrong. “I don’t get why you let this guy touch you without inflicting severe burn damage to his balls. It just doesn’t seem like you, Luce.” He found himself voicing his thoughts aloud, before sighing and running an agitated hand through his hair once he realized what he has said, how he’d skirted their rules again. “Faen, sorry… I know I promised, but it’s not funny for me to see or think about you being in pain.”

“I dunno, a good stabbing makes it all the more fun.” Luce said with a wry grin, not noticing the forced tone that her boss’ voice had taken on. With another large gulp of beer, she looked at her stein for a moment-- fuck, how was it already half empty? Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Luce focused on her boss as the world began to tip pleasantly from side to side. Or maybe her head was wobbling? Uncertain. “It was a good time.” She replied, though the smile that had remained on her face slipped slightly as Ulfric spoke again. A lump formed in the back of her throat at his words and she stared at the rim of her glass for a moment. The thought of her being in pain? It… fuck, it sounded melodramatic even in her head but… ever since Bea had died, her life had been nothing but fucking pain. The worst kind of pain. The pain of the soul, the pain of losing someone who she had spent much of her life relying on. It was the sort of pain that came with agonizing numbness that she would do anything to get rid of. Including fighting Adam in the woods. For a brief moment, Luce contemplated telling Ulfric to fuck off. To mind his own business, that she had this under control. But did she? Was any of this “under control?” Swallowing, Luce looked at him, “Sometimes hurting feels better than not feeling at all. It helps to feel a different kind of pain.” One I deserve. 

Ulfric had fully expected a rebuff, so when Luce didn’t dodge the question he was thrown off-kilter. The sensation reminded him of when his parents had first been teaching him how to track and he’d misjudged his footing, expecting solid ground but suddenly finding himself falling. As it was then, this was unknown territory he found himself in, and he’d be wise to tread carefully. But both ‘wisdom’ and ‘caution’ were concepts that had become unappealing and difficult to comprehend several drinks ago. “If you truly felt nothing underneath all this, you wouldn’t have to work so hard to cover it up.” He countered bluntly instead. “And what is that work getting you? Bottle things up and the best-case scenario is they stay trapped that way, and things stay the way they are.” He took a long swig of his beer and contemplated the container it came in as he spoke, as if some deep truth lay within it. “More likely they spill out when you don’t want them to, or explode, and you’ve got a predisposition towards the more fiery outcome.” The image of the cup of coffee boiling over in her hand flashed through his mind, an inopportune and involuntary manifestation of the power she kept inside. He could relate to that, even if he didn’t understand the nuances of how her magic worked. “It… can help to let whatever you’re feeling flow through you on your own terms,” he found himself offering her the advice he’d often given less experienced werewolves intent on repressing their more primal impulses. “Though I’d expect yours would be different to mine.” She couldn’t rely on the moon to help her through releasing whatever negative energies were eating her up inside, but she could rely on his support, if she wanted it. 

Taking another long drink from her glass, Luce mulled over his words. Part of her wanted to lash out at him-- what did he know about her pain? What did he know about how she felt? How could he even think to understand what she was going though? But, that was just the thing, she realized. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what was happening. All he knew was that she’d been… fucked up. Had been acting out, hadn’t been showing up to work, or had been throwing herself into things harder than she should have. All he knew was that she was spiralling. Fuck. Letting out a sigh, she set the glass down, the alcohol and mixed emotions churning in her stomach. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to make her burdens his. She didn’t want to show this side of weakness to him. But, another side of Luce wanted to tell him everything. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this. How much longer could she hold onto the burden of her sister’s death, the responsibility of her resurrection, the fear and self-doubt that threatened to bring her to her knees. “I…” Luce took in a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, it might.” She said, digging her fingers into her arm, pressing hard into the floral designs etched into her skin. “Someone killed my sister. Bea.” Saying the words out loud, it felt just like it had the night she’d told Remmy what had happened. A tidal wave of emotion, guilt, sadness, anger, but most of all pain-- it all rushed over her. Luce gripped her fingers tighter, her shoulders tensing. “They were hunting Nell, but Bea… sacrificed herself. Saved her.” And she’d done nothing.

Luce’s confession brought Ulfric back to that night outside the trailer when Ari had returned to finally speak the words out loud and make them real; My sister is dead. His stomach plummeted, and he was briefly overcome by the impulse to find some kind of blanket to wrap her up in like he had the young wolf, despite how pointless that was when she could generate her own warmth. “What is it about sisters and self-sacrifice?” He found himself mumbling into his hands, leaning forward with his elbows braced against the table under the weight of the news. He hadn’t meant to say that, but a confession of his own in return for hers seemed fair. “Ariana’s sister is dead too, for similarly noble, bullshit reasons.” And his own sister was dead for completely arbitrary, bullshit reasons but that was beside the point. “Not that I’m trying to pit your grief against mine. Yours would kick mine’s sorry ass.” He explained. “I just want you to know I have some experience to back me up when I say that I’m sure… Bea was a good person, and the last she would want is to see any of her sisters hurt. Inflict that pain on the world if you need to. Throw something, light something on fire, tell me to get fucked in some creative way,” He suggested, searching for human substitutes for the innate mechanism of releasing pent up negativity that he’d been born with. Luckily, he was fairly certain he could smooth over anything she did short of burning the whole bar down with a sizable tip. “We can even go out back and I’ll let you get a few swings in. I doubt I’d feel it much right now, anyway. Just don’t direct this back on yourself, energy can’t escape a closed circuit like that.” 

“Sisters. We’ll fight and bicker like hell, but someone comes for one of us… We’ll go to the ends of the earth to hunt them down.” Luce said quietly, her finger tracing one of the flower petals on her arm, staring at one of the snakes nestled among the flowers. Her mother. Her father. Neither of them knew. They were half a world away, none the wiser to what had happened to their favorite daughter. None the wiser to what their remaining daughters were sacrificing to bring her back. At Ulfric’s next words, Luce felt her stomach lurch. Ariana’s sister-- “Celeste?” She asked, aghast, staring at him. No. No, no, no. She hadn’t messaged the other woman, hadn’t heard from her in weeks. She thought maybe she’d read the signs wrong, that she’d just been a little too pushy, that Celeste was ghosting her. It had happened for. Plenty of women had done it to her. She had never thought that she was dead. “Fuck. Fuck.” Luce said her voice cracking as her jaw clenched. “I… I’m sorry.” She said thickly, sucking in a deep breath to try and keep from crying. Waving a hand, Luce lifted her glass and drained the rest of the beer from the stein. “Don’t. Don’t say that. I’ve already tried that. Tried to kill some monsters. Killed a couple. Scared a few people. Burned down the woods. Didn’t matter. It all just felt… like shit. Nothing helped. Nothing’s helped.” Luce whispered, staring down at the tabletop, unable to meet his eyes.

Despite his dampened senses, it was obvious to Ulfric that Luce was close to tears, but he managed to keep from commenting on it despite his lowered impulse control. As close as they were, she’d never broken down in front of him, and he didn’t want to scare or shame her into restraining her emotions again by acknowledging it. “Alright, I get it, nothing’s helped.” He eventually accepted her response, rising from the booth to head toward the bar. When he sank back into his seat a few minutes later with freshly refilled steins he sighed and picked up where he left off. “Time’s supposed to, right? Let’s just pass the time then.” He nudged the glass towards her and raised his own in a tentative toast. “To sisters?”

When the man stood up to get more drinks, Luce buried her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly as she held back tears. Bea. Celeste. What the fuck. What the fuck. Why were the women around her dying? Who else would be next? And there was nothing that she could do for Celeste. Or for Ariana. Ariana-- fuck. She was just a kid. 18, but a kid. And she’d just lost her sister. Christ. Rubbing her face, Luce did her best to school her expression back to one of relative calm. The pain was still clear on her face, but the increased swaying of the room around them helped ease it away. “To sisters… avenging sisters.” She said, tapping her glass against his before drinking deeply, letting the alcohol wash over her. If she drank enough, maybe then she could just… forget this fresh, brutal news. “You… You said time’s supposed to help.” Luce said, echoing his words, her words running together as she stared at him with bleary eyes. “Did it? When you, when you lost your siblings. Did time help?”

“Did what?” Ulfric asked, her words becoming harder to decipher as they blurred together. “Oh, ...right.” He continued, recognition coming over him slowly. He was surprised she’d remembered. He only mentioned them in passing to explain why he didn’t get many visitors. ‘I’m the middle child of five, but my two older siblings are busy taking care of the family business back home, and the younger ones passed away a long time ago.’ An ocean of time, bigger than the ocean he’d crossed to get where he was now. Had it helped? “It helped somewhat,” He answered softly, after another steadying mouthful of ale. “Not as much as vengeance,” He added honestly, before reclining back into his chair to survey the bustling bar around them. “But I doubt you’ll find much of that at Dell’s. Time and company will have to do for now.” 

“Somewhat.” Luce nodded, taking another large gulp of beer. The bar was spinning around her, her emotions hanging by a thread. But, she kept them at bay as best she could. She focused on Ulfric, focused on his words. On the fact that he knew her pain. He’d felt the fresh sting of losing siblings at one time, even if it had been years ago. But… Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Luce glanced around at Dell’s. No one was around, no one near at least. And it was loud enough that no one would be able to tell who’d said anything, even if they had werewolf ears like Ulf. “Not here in Dell’s. But, vengeance…” She let out a dry chuckle. “Sisters. You don’t fuck with them.” She said, her eyes dull as she leaned back into her chair. Her hand tapped against the top of their table, small sparks of blue flame drifting from her fingertips. “Sisters, they’ll chase you to hell and back again.�� 

At Luce’s glance around the room, Ulfric vaguely remembered that he wasn't supposed to talk of things like vengeance around mundane company. He generally tried to keep from alluding to things he’d done in the past at all, but he found at that moment the only person whose judgment he feared was hers, and that didn’t come. The acceptance he felt instead was like another layer of intoxication. None of the bar patrons seemed to be listening to them, likely because many of them had come to the bar with the goal of forgetting the things they’d seen and heard that they couldn’t or didn’t want to explain and weren’t looking to add to their burdens. Still, for her sake, he leaned in closer and kept his voice low as he nodded “Sisters can be formidable creatures.” The flames that sparked from her hand were uncomfortably warm in such close proximity to his, but he didn’t back away from them. “I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of one on the path to retribution.” He searched her eyes for some hint of what she was thinking, planning before deciding it didn’t matter. He already knew if she asked for his help with this he’d agree, details be damned. He wouldn’t be able to back down from the chance to help another sister, to do it better this time. “I’d stand by your side though,” The werewolf assured her, doing his best to keep her steady in his vision, to imprint the promise in his mind even after his sobriety returned. “If you needed me to.” 

Locking eyes with Ulfric, Luce watched the way he leaned in. “Yeah. Yeah, they can be.” She said, smothering the flames with her palm, choking the blue flames out. She could feel the heat against her palm, but like all fire, it didn't burn. A part of her wondered what it would feel like, to burn like that. But, it never happened. The flames didn’t bite against her skin, they never went against her. At his words, she took another long sip of beer as she mulled over his offer. “Thanks, Ulf. But… I’ve got it covered.” She said, a smile curling on her lips, cold and cruel. “The motherfucker who did this, he’s going to wish he’d never even thought about coming after my family.” August. She’d held him in her hands, threatened to melt the skin from his face, had come so close to killing him… Next time, she wouldn’t hold back. Next time, he would know just how badly he’d fucked up by setting that hunter on her family. Luce let out a long sigh, she looked at him. “Same goes for you. With… Ariana’s situation. If you need help, if she needs help-- just say the word. I’ll do whatever I can to help. No one should lose a sister.” No one should feel the pain she did.

“I don’t doubt it, on both counts,” Ulfric told her, picking up on the determination in her tone, but not the iciness that might have given him pause if he had a clearer head. “You’ve got a deal.” He tapped his knuckles against her shoulder lightly in lieu of shaking her hand that had only recently stopped sparking, before tipping his glass to her and drinking deep to seal the new arrangement. Sinking bonelessly back into his seat he hummed, mulling over their conversation and the unexpected turns it had taken. “Hmm, all this talk of revenge makes me feel…” He searched his addled brain for a way to describe the sense of unfulfilled emptiness that had settled into his gut. “Hungry. Buffalo wings? Yes, buffalo wings.” He asked and answered his own question without pausing for breath, certain that was the solution. “I’m buying.”

[sarahjtrash]

An Untimely Admission

2.3K, Jurdan, Rated T

Jude shares something she's been keeping secret during an inopportune moment.

A/N: Despite what the summary may suggest, I just want to say this isn’t a pregnancy fic. Nothing against those, but I don't really write that. Fluff and angst still ensue. Enjoy!

-o-0-o-

Jude couldn’t take it anymore. 

While she understood that being exiled and keeping her title a secret was the politically wise thing to do, she couldn’t watch Cardan pursue his carnal desires anymore. It didn’t matter that she knew he would never fully pursue these women, that he would crawl into bed with Jude and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. She was tired of being sidelined in her own life once again. So when Cardan leaned down to whisper something in Nicasia’s ear, Jude handed her drink to the nearest courtier and stormed out of the hall. 

She heard Nicasia’s laughter follow her out the room. 

As she walked, she pulled her jewelry off and dropped it on the floor. While Cardan and her agreed that it made more sense for them to win over courtiers this way, she hated it. She had the same privileges in almost anything being fair game in the hall for political advancement; however, after three months of it, she wanted to punch something. They always tumbled together afterwards, neither going farther than chaste kisses with a stranger, but Jude was tired of playing these wicked games. She wiped her sleeve against her face, trying to stop the tears that rolled down her face, surely smearing her makeup. 

Whatever the guards and servants wanted to say about the state of their supposed seneschal didn’t matter. 

When she reached the end of the hallway, she turned towards her old rooms instead of the king’s suite, refusing to share a bed tonight, or perhaps any night in the future if she had it her way. Cardan could certainly find himself someone else to satisfy him.

That thought seemed to work like a summoning as she heard quick footsteps following behind her.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” she said pathetically. 

She heard Cardan stop moving. “Please don’t run away,” he quietly begged.

She whipped around quickly, her jealousy quickly becoming anger. “And what would it matter to you?” She hissed. 

His face morphed into something she couldn’t recognize. “Let’s not do this in the hallway.”

Her blood positively boiled. “Or what?” She seethed, “Someone would hear us? What a catastrophe that would be.”

Cardan’s face changed to match hers. “You can stand here and yell all you want, but I am going back to the King’s chambers.”

Jude watched his back as he strode away from her and damned herself when she followed him after a few seconds. It amused her that he had to refer to their bedroom as ‘the King’s’ for fear of discovery. His cloak billowed behind him, emanating power as he strode down the halls like he owned them, which she supposed he did. 

When they finally reached his chambers, Jude fifteen paces behind, her anger began to swell once more as they entered the room, and he gently closed the door behind them.

His entire demeanor changed when they crossed the threshold, and his eyes filled with care. “What’s wrong?”

It was exactly this kind of mind game that drove her insane. “I don’t think you get to ask that.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I am really exhausted of fighting you, Jude.”

“Then don’t.” 

“I can’t do that if you’re not telling me what’s wrong.”

She crossed her arms and broke his infuriatingly concerned gaze. “Every day in Elfhame, I am constantly reminded of how inadequate I am. I have fought tooth and nail every day for years to crawl to where am I. Which by the way, where I am is a Queen without a crown and a title no one knows about. And I was willing to accept that. So stupidly willing to accept that. Now, all I have is a husband who can dance and swoon and kiss whoever he desires, and I just get to watch while everyone thinks I am a petty, dumb mortal.”

“We can march into that throne room right now and declare you the rightful Queen.”

Her eyes felt like stinging once again. “That is not what this is about. You just party and seduce all the time, without ever caring about—“

She watched the frustration build in him, as he spat out, “You know as well as I do that you are held to the same standards that I am.”

“And what good does that do! If you even cared a little a bit, you would know that I haven’t tried to be seductive towards a courtier in over a month now. I just wait like a naive, trained dog for you to crawl home and get a good fuck in. Do I have any affect on you or do you just enjoy watching me suffer?”

He tried to reach for her, his voice begging a little. “You know what you do to me.”

She stepped back from his advances in disgust. “I should have known. Everyone in your life leaves you or betrays you for one reason or another. Maybe it’s the disappointment or the lack of concern you have for others, but everyone in your life has been part of a sick twisted game, and I am finished being a pawn Cardan. I must be such an idiot, one who watches you drink and play and then gets repeatedly fucked over. Could you even imagine that? How awful it is to be in love with someone who is constantly trying to best you? And you let yourself get fooled time and time again because maybe this time they’ll behave differently.” 

Cardan’s eyes grew wide as saucers as Jude’s heavy breathing filled the room. 

“You’re so inconsiderate to everyone around you that I’m not surprised that Balekin—“

“Jude,” He interrupted her sentence. 

“You can’t even let me finish one sentence. It’s like when I speak—“

“Jude,” He practically yelled at her. 

Anger filled her, and she couldn’t help the glare that she hoped buried him six feet under. “If you’re so inclined to hear yourself, then what,” She spat. 

“I think you should stop speaking—“

“And you’re so controlling and goddamned—“

“Before you say more things that you don’t mean,” He finished loudly.

Their breathing settled between them, and tension filled the room. She thought about what she could say that would ruin him as much as he ruined her when she realized what she’d admitted.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because he said, “Sometimes Jude, I really wish you couldn’t lie.”

She wouldn’t give him the reassurance of admitting that she meant what she said. Instead, she chose to let him believe the worst. “I think it’s best that I leave.”

He didn’t say anything as she walked out the door. 

-o-0-o-

Three days later, Jude felt awful. 

She still saw Cardan daily at meetings and the revel last night, but neither deigned to speak with the other more than necessary. They played their roles of King and Seneschal, so that no one would notice anything amiss. It drove Jude insane. All she wanted was to apologize, let him know the truth, or at the very least say hello. All she got, though, were cool glances and smirks thrown her way. 

If she truly wanted what she claimed she did the other night, she knew that she would have to instigate relief efforts, no matter her pride. For the past two days, she’d written and rewritten a letter over and over, trying to explain what she meant. Eventually, she left it short and handed it off to a servant as she walked towards a dueling ring in the courtyard. 

The other letter she’d written was to the bomb demanding her presence in training gear. In the palace, she was Jude’s most worthy adversary. After the better part of an hour, sweat dripped off Jude as she blocked and deflected the bomb’s jests and strikes. Her mortal heart pounded in her chest. It felt so good to release herself like that his that she’d forgotten all about the three little words she wrote on that sheet until she heard an approach from behind.

“My queen?” Cardan called almost hesitantly. 

The bomb instantly stopped fighting and sagely made no noise as Jude turned around. 

“Is this true?” He asked, there was more than just desperation in his voice, almost as if he hoped for answer. 

“Would I lie to you, Your Highness?” She asked. 

He licked his lips in a way that set Jude on fire. “I have need of Jude, Dear, if you don’t mind her leaving the session early, Bomb.”

The bomb said, perhaps too innocently. “I don’t think she minds at all.”

When they reached his room, Cardan held out his hand with the letter in it. “I’ve received word that perhaps you’re ready to end this little feud.”

She took the letter while watching him. “And is this word to be trusted?”

“I feel inclined to believe so.”

As Jude unfolded the letter, she already knew what she would find. It was something that had taken her days, to draft. It was incredibly short and simple, and barely reflected her thoughts. 

In her own handwriting, the cream paper read, 

I didn’t lie.

She pretended that she was mulling over its contents, that it was some long policy proposal instead of a flimsy admission. In an uncharacteristic manner, Cardan patiently let her stare at it. 

She decided she wasn’t quite done with their little game. “Anyone could have written this.”

Cardan’s eyes drifted to the letter as well. “Though true, it appears to be in your handwriting.”

“Anyone can fake that.”

He leveled her a look. “The servant said, ‘From your seneschal, Jude Duarte.’”

“Perhaps a twist of words.”

“Jude.”

HIs name seemed to rattle through her, and she remembered why she even wrote that blasted piece in the first place. 

“For the more hurtful things I said the other night, I apologize. For others, I meant what I said.”

“And what part was that?” He challenged.

She rolled her eyes and looked off. “It seems to have escaped me.”

“Liar.”

When she looked back at him, she said, “I hate you.”

He watched her very intently. “I know.”

She inhaled deeply and panic seemed to fill her bones as she thought about her next words. It would probably take her months to say it if she didn’t let it escape. It would be so easy to fall into their little game once again, but Jude felt her tiredness from before sweep through her. In the long run, that was not what she wanted. Not at all.

“But,” she paused, drawing a shaky breath. “I also love you more than I ever thought possible.”

A small goofy grin pulled at his lips as he reached out for her. She obligingly tucked herself into his arms as hers wrapped around his neck. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He teased. 

She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Is that all you wish to say?”

He pulled her slightly closer, a new hunger filling his eyes. “Not in the least.”

“Then the King shall speak his mind.” She brought her hands down to his shoulders.

He released a pathetic little nose laugh. “I have never been more envious of your ability to lie.”

“It never really seems to do me any favors,” she said quietly. 

His hand made a smoothing gesture on her back, and he brought his gaze down to hers. “I think you underestimate its success rate.”

“Stop avoiding the topic.”

“I am also quite envious of your earlier courage,” he said.

Jude gave him a significant look, and he sighed before saying, “But, the answer to your question is yes.”

“I never asked you anything,”she said confused. 

“You most certainly did. The other night you asked me if I ‘could even imagine that?’,” He asked in a terrible impression of her voice, “‘How awful it is to be in love with someone who is constantly trying to best you?’ Jude. Jude. My dearest Jude. I have never met anyone who holds my heart so dearly and still manages to behave as an adversary.”

She laughed a little at that. 

“Like I said, though, my answer is yes. I can most certainly imagine that because I am so tragically in love with you that it pains me despite all you have done to try and undermine me.”

They paused for a second and let his words settle, but it didn’t take long until they were suddenly a clash of lips and tongue. It felt like breathing for the first time and that every barrier they’d ever put between them came crashing down with their words. Jude pulled on his hair slightly, needing him to just be closer to her. Her heart may have just about leap out of her chest, and she couldn’t help the small sound that escaped her when he pulled away. 

“Jude?” He asked. 

She knew her pupils were dilated and her breathing heavy, but at that moment she couldn’t find an ounce of her to care. Anything he asked, she’d be willing to do. “What?”

“While I appreciate our vigor, I have but one request.”

She cocked her head at his tone. 

“I understand that your training is important, but I think we would both benefit if you bathed yourself before we continued.”

Jude’s mouth opened slightly in fake astonishment, and she pulled away. “If you can’t appreciate me while I’m in this condition, then I must really question your previous declaration.”

Jude stepped toward the wash room, watching Cardan’s shocked face, before turning around and strutting away, perhaps swaying her hips more than necessary. When her hand reached the doorknob, she threw him a significant look. “Perhaps you should call for a servant. There’s one spot on my back I can never reach.”

“I believe I could help,” he all but growled before approaching her quicker than Jude had ever seen.

[camelotsgrace]

@sirens-wrath​

Maya isn’t exactly the easiest person to get a rise out of. Most things she can just shrug off, walk past, and ignore. Living on a planet where no one gives a damn, having a thick skin is a necessity, especially when you’re born with a big blue target on your back. And yet, some things hit a little too close to home, too close for comfort.

    A group of men had been following her for awhile now. Men, as she’d learned, that had issues with keeping their mouths shut. An unwanted compliment here, a few pleas for her attention there. They were proving to be no more than a simple nuisance that she could tune out as she walked home. But, when they realized that they weren’t going to get anything from her, their comments turned insulting, even threatening.

    It wasn’t until one of them had called her a freak that she stopped, and turned on a heel. This wasn’t Pandora, and polite society seemed to frown upon simply killing anyone that annoyed you. So as much as she’d like to Phaselock the lot of them and hurl them through a wall, she’d settle for grabbing the nearest one by the collar and hoisting him off the ground.

>

   ❝ If you want a fight, you’re asking for one, and it’s one that I don’t foresee you winning. ❞ Her voice was just short of a snarl, and with the emotions that were bubbling inside her, her markings were flaring hot enough to start singing the cloth he was being held up by. This would not end well.

    Or it wouldn’t have ended well, if someone hadn’t stepped in. The stranger was only a few feet behind her, yet still, they urged her that these jerks were certainly not worth it. A deep inhale, then an exhale, followed by a very sharp glare at the terrified man in her hands. She didn’t want to let them go, far from it, but it was true that she couldn’t just go around doing whatever she wanted. So, relenting, she dropped him to the ground and kept her eyes on the group as they booked it down the street.

   ❝ Thank you, for that. ❞ She addresses the stranger as she turns to face them, still scowling, ❝ I apologize for causing a scene. ❞

⸨ ♚

    TAKING PREVENTATIVE MEASURES does not necessarily equate to the belief that it should have been stopped, only that it was perhaps better that way. Though for whose sake, she won’t divulge. ( They looked too pitiful ambling down the road, after all. Defeat seemed ample punishment enough. ) “Causing a scene? You need not apologize for such a thing. From what I garnered, they were agitating you, were they not?” 

     For all the liberties time has brought, it has also rendered losses. The death of chivalry was among them; for men to embody such vulgarity and think to be awarded for it... how utterly shameful. “If it’s of any consolation, I believe that making a statement is the best way to address it. Certain matters cannot be handled with words alone, and in an age where slaying one another is no longer acceptable,” she says this without an ounce of satire, hinting to her heritage, “--points must be made in other ways.” 

      Furthermore, she’s no intention of slandering honesty. Were it not for the place and time feeling so inopportune, she would have liked to witness her alleged prowess. From such a distance, the king was able to feel the blood run cold in their veins. It was remarkable.

    “I should be apologizing for not intervening sooner. I was uncertain as to what was transpiring, but now I know.” An apologetic bow is offered as a truce, as forward as can be. She can but hope her intentions translate well despite her regality. “Prior to these events, I was on my way to the Starlight Brewery. With how bewildering this underwater city is, I imagined it would be a fine way of loosening nerves. Where those men failed, might I succeed? I would like to buy you a drink, if I may.”

     Hospitality poised, she curtsies. Despite the nature of her invitation, there is no flirtatiousness to it; only grace, and a desire to make up for the stranger’s dour experience. “My name is Arturia. Arturia Pendragon.” 

[lokis-lady-death]

Slither Pt 8

Loki x Reader

Reader is a museum curator is put in charge of a Viking/Norse exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum. While going through all the artifacts, she comes across a strange relic that seems to have a mind of it’s own. She accidentally stumbles into an ancient world of gods.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Slither Part 8

It was early afternoon when Loki reappeared back in his bedroom in Asgard. His eyes closed while he grunted in frustration, the Chains of Sigyn lying uselessly lifeless his feet on the floor.

You waking up from the dream not only cast him out of your vision, it also was enough to undo the necklace's latch. He was about to curse out loud when something caught his attention.

"So the prodigal son returns," came a deep, aged voice from behind him. Loki's jaw tightened as only his eyes rolled at the realization that Odin was in his room at the most inopportune time.

Forcing a grin on his face, Loki spun around, hands open and eyes bright as he greeted, "Oh, Father, I was actually hoping for an audience with…"

He froze when he saw Thor was also standing there, mimicking his father's stance. Arms folded over their chests, backs straight, golden armor, even their stare of disappointment was a reflection. Aside from Odin's missing right eye, they resembled each other from their squared jaws to their broad shoulders and built physique.

And both were equally as undesirable guests.

"Loki, we need to talk," Thor commanded, "I've told Father about your meddling in his study."

The god of mischief Inhaled through his nose as he shot a quick disgruntled look towards his brother before smiling innocently at Odin. "Actually, there's an explanation for that, I was merely-"

Odin raised a hand and his son went quiet. Closing his one good eye to take in a breath before undoubtedly starting one of his infamous guilt speeches.

But what came from his mouth was not at all what Loki expected. "I have failed you, my boy."

"Come again?"

Looking into his one good eye, Loki saw a trace of sorrow. "I have failed you. I had hoped by destroying the Bifrost that I would prevent any further damage from other realms, however, when Thor told me you had been in my study, I knew you had been searching for just another way to sneak out." He looked down to Loki's feet just seconds after the god of mischief flicked his wrist and made it vanish. "Well, my boy? Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?"  At that, the son had no response. He looked away, only making Odin press further. "So what was it like? Going off on your own?"

The now solomon god of mischief quietly answered, "It was worth whatever punishment you see fit to bestow upon me.”

Odin shook his head while Thor brought up, "Are you referring to the Midgardian in your bathroom yesterday?”

At that, Odin’s eyebrows rose. “You left that part out? That didn’t seem like impertinent information?”

“She's of no concern, I was merely plotting my escape from this wretched place when she stumbled into our realm. She's of little consequence,” Loki answered shortly and the three men were quiet.

It wasn’t until Odin cleared his throat that the silence broke, “Loki, you know you cannot continue  going to Midgard? That place, it’s full of pestilence, famine, and death. Not to mention that the type of magic that is required to go there is extremely potent!”

Loki slowly looked up to his father then towards his brother. Just as he opened his mouth opened, ready to argue his case, he felt a sharp pain in his head.

The agony was so abrupt that it etched into his face as he fell over with a grunt. “Brother!” Thor cried out as he kneeled in front of him, “Father?”

“You foolish child, what have you done?” Odin watched as Loki laid, eyes closed, still clutching  at his head. . “Guards? Guards! Call the medics!”

*****

You stared, dazed and confused, at your phone as you replayed the voicemail for the upteenth time.

“Hello, this is Chris Hemsworth with the Edinburg Museum? I’m just returning a call to a Miss y/n, I’m sorry I missed you but if you could please call me back, my extension is 496. I believe you received an artifact from my office by mistake.”

In this short amount of time, how had you been so ignorant as to forget the Chains of Sigyn weren’t yours? They were property of the museum, and apparently not even your own Smithsonian. Your chest felt so cold at the realization. Quieting that subsequent ache, you tried to find comfort that you could go back to your normal life.

That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

Your life to be normal again?

As if in response to your own self torment, the chains began to rattle from the safe in your coat closet by the front door of your apartment. Swallowing and rubbing the mixture of sleep and tears from your eyes, you stood at the side of the bed.

Picking up the phone, you hit redial, feeling a stronger ache build in the pit of your soul when a woman’s voice answered, “Thank you for calling the Edinburg Museum, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi, may I have extension 496?”

“Mr. Hemsworth?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The line went into dull elevator style music before you heard a man with a thick australian accent pick up, “Hello, this is Chris.”

“Hi, this is y/n, I just missed your call about-”

"The Chains of Sigyn? You have them?"

"Um, yes. Yes, I, uh, have them. Could you just-" The rattling stopped, only to be replaced by a low, threatening hiss "-hold on, one sec?" In your small apartment there were not many places you could go, so to quieten the background, you opted for outside. Opening your window, you slipped out on the thin escape. "Okay, yeah, so about that necklace-"

“Did you put them on?”

You choked on your words, your mind drawing a blank at the accusation. “I’m sorry?”

“The chains, did you put them on?”

At their mention they sparked back to life, shaking and hissing on the other side of the closet door so loud that you could hear it even out on the window’s ledge.

“I hear them,” he said dryly and all you could do was gulp.

“Yes, I wore them, but only for a second-”

“That doesn’t matter,” he interrupted urgently, “What matters now is that you keep them off. Where are they now?”

“I…” you looked at the closet door, hearing the safe begin to bang against it. “I have them secure.” Taking a moment to realize how improbable this was, you pressed, “What exactly do you know about them? How did your museum get them? What makes them work?”

The line was so quiet you thought you lost connection until Hemsworth answered, “I’ll start with those aren’t just some artifact for a museum, they’re actually a family heirloom. Look, all I can say is that you need to keep that necklace away from you. I’ll be there in two days to take it back-”

“Two days?” you exclaimed, realizing that would be the big premier of the viking exhibit at the Smithsonian. “I can’t meet you with it then, I have a project-”

“The Viking Exhibit?”

You went silent.

“Yes, I know about your project, that’s kind of how the chains got accidentally sent there… I was preparing a different artifact and they just…”

“Let me guess, slithered in?” you asked with a roll of your eyes.

“No, they told me to send them to you.”

Your teeth clenched, certain you heard him wrong. “They told you?”

“It’s really a long story, but my family is extremely upset that it got sent to you,” he finally answered, the sound of rumagining, books falling, and something crashing in the background while he hurried off the phone. “I will be there in two days. I’ll come by the Smithsonian and answer your questions, Ms. y/n. Just don’t put that necklace-”

The phone disconnected.

Holding your cell in your hand, you stared down at it even more confused than before. You only had a few seconds until the phone dinged with a new message.

It was from Chris at work.

~Hey just checking in Tom told me we are hanging out tonight SOOOOOOO EXCITED we will pick you and your friend up at 9~

His inability to use punctuation was always an annoyance to you, but that's not why seeing the text made you stomach knott.

At the knock continuing at your closet from the chains going wild, you ran a hand over your face to try and gather your thoughts.

The thudding got louder, making you angry while you tried to take in everything. "What do you want from me!" you yelled at them through the door. "You wanna just take me there, is that it? Is that why you're going CRAZY, because you want to take me to Asgard? To Loki!" At that, the pounding stopped. You froze in place, looking in disbelief at the quiet closet, unsure how what you said could have simply powered them off. Rather than dwell, you took in the silence while checking the time on your phone.

"Shit it's already seven," you realized. Sighing, you resided to go ahead and take a shower while you sorted everything out later.

Walking into the bathroom only made you madder when you realized the shower curtain was still torn down from the last time the chains dragged you to Asgard.

With a role of your eyes, you settled, "Guess I'll be taking a bath."

*****

Several hours had passed in Asgard before Loki finally began to stir. He was laying in his bed with two nurses at his side speaking gently to him but he couldn't understand their words. Raising a hand to his head, he tried to squash the dull throbbing he felt behind his eyes as someone else started speaking to him.

"You'll never learn."

Blinking away the blurred vision, he was able to make out Odin standing at his side. Letting out an annoyed scoff, Loki scooted into a seated position. "I would say I have learned quite a lot, such as-"

"Enough!" Loki stopped his words, his head lowering while his eyes met with his father. “Leave us,” Odin commanded of the medics who made a hasty retreat from the room.

He took in a deep breath, readying himself before he cursed. "I am sick of this constant fight to keep you safe, Loki. You know traveling beyond our world is dangerous, you know the risks! You know this is why the bifrost is closed! So why do you continue looking for new ways to-"

"Escape?"

Odin frowned. “You are supposed to be my intelligent son, but that seems to be wavering these last few years.”

“How awful for the great and powerful Odin to have such a wayward son,” Loki snickered. “Come all and bear witness to how his own ambitions are shattered by a son who wishes to live life.”

Odin locked onto Loki's fierce eyes, sucking in while he realized his words fell on deaf ears. "If you won't listen to reason, at least listen to your body," he warned. "Going back and forth is doomed to tear you apart and judging by the pain you're in, you know it to be true. A being is meant to live in one world, not jump across it."

The god of mischief cut his eyes away, unwilling to meet his father's gaze. The king simply shook his head, his resolve unshaken by the defiance. "I know this isolation has been difficult for you, but I am right. This, this is right. Our people almost met their end when we consorted with others, and now we are finally outside of their reach."

"No one is trying to reach us!" Loki exclaimed. “To the other realms we are nothing but old stories, fables told down from generations! Your legacy means nothing because you have let fear drive you into hiding! The world has kept going, father, it has moved on without us and I’m not alright with that! I want to move on-”

"You don't grow old. You don't get sick. No one here dies. We are always at peace. What more do you want from this old king? Can’t you be satisfied that you’re living?"

Loki's brow cringed at the reasoning, feeling that the answer was so obvious. "This isn't living, Father! This is limbo! We are merely suspended between life and death, nothing changes, nothing progresses! We are frozen in time, never allowed to fully live our lives!”

“I gave my people eternal life!”

“You gave us eternal damnation! What is this existence if we have nothing to gain or lose?”  

Odin’s words could have shaken the portraits in the hallways when he bit back, “I have buried my brothers, my sisters! My mother! My father! My children! My wife! I have known more pain than any man ever deserved and I have created a place to keep you, Thor, and my people from having that same burden! Yet instead of showing gratitude, this is what I'm met with? This obscene ungratefulness?"

"That wasn't your choice to make!"

"I don’t remember you arguing when this decision was made?” Odin roared, to the point that the nurses outside the bedroom door jumped. “I don’t remember you feeling so disconnected with your fellow Asgardians that you would rather cripple yourself with dark magic than stay here and simply be!”

Loki rose from his bed, eyes raging as he spat, “You wouldn’t have heard any arguments, father. You made this decision for everyone, but from now on, I shall be making my own.”

Odin huffed and puffed, his face red, his fists tight. Though Loki expected another barrage of shouting, the king merely dropped his head. "I watched your mother burn for practicing the same magic as you, Loki. Don't you understand, I'm trying to protect you…"

Closing his eyes, the god of mischief calmed himself enough to remark, "Midgard isn't the same place it was all those years ago, father. My magic is no more threatening to the people there than a slap on the wrist here.

The two stayed there in tense silence before Odin finally turned to leave, enraged and defeated. As the nurses started to come back to tend to their patient, Loki bellowed, “Out!” They lowered their heads, following his command in a rush.

The god maneuvered around his room, mumbling to himself while he calmed down. Cracking his neck, Loki raised both hands and in grand display, sent a golden light rolled over him. Where he once was wearing loose fitted tunic and pants, now he wore a black on black suit, tailored perfectly to his long, muscular form.

Pulling at the sleeves, inspecting it’s style, Loki had to admit the Midgardian attire you dreamed about him wearing had a certain appeal to it. Giving himself a once over in front of the mirror, he nearly missed Thor coming into his room.

“You can’t be serious,” his brother wondered, eyes combing over the strange clothes. “You can’t be going back?”

“I made plans to see someone,” Loki answered with a dry tone. “I intend to keep them.”

Thor shook his head, asking, “Is it worth it? Arguing with Allfather, breaking Asgardian law, that pain in your head, just to have a little bit of time with someone who will live and die in the blink of your eye?”

The god of mischief stood  still for a moment, his eyes taking in another view of him in his suit.  

"I don't intend to just pop in and out of her life, Thor," he spoke bluntly, "And I’m done following his rules, all they do is guarantee I will never have my freedom. So-” Loki took a breath, “-do not expect me to be returning to Asgard."

That made Thor scoffed with a wide grin, "No? What?" Loki didn't return the smile, simply stared forward. "You jest?"

"I do not."

Thor furrowed his brow, asking, “Won’t it kill you? Going back?”

“No, it’s going back and forth that causes the-” Loki cleared his throat to regain thought from the thumping beneath his skull, “-the pain. But that’s no longer an issue, as I’ve discovered a way to stay there, permanently.”

The air went stale between them as Thor watched his brother reveal his method of transporting out of Asgard with a twist of the wrist. The Chains of Sigyn gave a slight hiss in pleasure at being called, appearing in his hand out of thin air like they had always been there. Taking a breath, Thor stared at the necklace. "I could stop you," he threatened quietly. "I could beckon Mjolnir, I could-"

"Yes, but you haven't," Loki shot back. He locked eyes with his brother, neither ever known to back away from a fight. In fact, it wasn't long ago that Thor did in fact raise Mjolnir against Loki, but that was mere disagreement.

Now, Loki was defying law.

Defying Odin.

The god of thunder Inhaled hard before making his choice. While Loki readied himself for the elder brother to call upon his hammer, he was rather surprised to instead receive a hug.

"This place will not be the same without you," he said with a final pat on his back before backing away from the stunned Loki. "If father ever repairs the Bifrost, I will come find you, brother." His blue eyes sparked with sincerity as he offered one last smile towards him. “Just know you will be missed.”

"You're letting me go?" he couldn't help but ask.

Thor nodded. "You were never at peace here and if you found somewhere that makes you happy, I will not stand in your way. I only ask one thing." He held an arm out to shake hands, finishing with, “Stay out of trouble.”

Loki inhaled, taken aback by the gesture. He took his brother’s arm, nodding courtly, “I certainly will try.” They both shared another smile before letting go. Loki looped the necklace around his neck and vanished from Asgard.

*****

You had just wrapped yourself with a towel when you heard a very sharp, very loud thud in your apartment. Running to the door, you pressed your back against it trying to run through the scenarios you had played out in your head for if someone ever broke into your home.

“Lady y/n?”

It was Loki, which at first sent a wave of relief through you before shocking you into a cold sweat.

You were in your towel and he was in your apartment.

“Yes, I’m, uh, I’m getting ready!” you yelled through the door as you locked it, hoping he didn’t hear the click. “Just, uh, give me a minute and I’ll finish up.”

Loki stood on the other side of the door, his hands folded behind his back as he stared down at his feet, replaying the argument from his father and farewell from his brother.

“Take your time, darling, I’ll be here,” he reassured her, shifting around the room to her book shelf.

You sighed in relief, thanking the heavens that your clothing closet was in your bathroom. Trying to calm your nerves, you felt a spike in your blood pressure when a text lit up on your phone’s screen.

~Gonna head that way in a min can’t wait to see you PARTY TIME~

High fiving yourself in the face, you realized what your night was about to partake. Letting out a groan, you went on getting ready.  

After nearly thirty minutes, you finally felt adequately prepared to face the god of mischief. He was sitting at your desk reading one of your books when you opened the door, feeling a bit silly for the trouble you went through.

But when his eyes came up to meet yours, the jump your heart did into your throat was worth it.

The little black dress from you bachelorette party was long gone, but you did have a pencil skirted black silk dress you had worn to a few galas. It was thin enough that it was comfortable, but fitted enough that it highlighted your curves in a way you actually appreciated. It was as close to dressing up as anything in your closet allowed for outside of trendy pant suits, but that wasn’t what you wanted for tonight.

Tonight, you didn’t want to look professional.

Tonight, you wanted to look sexy.

And judging by the way Loki’s eyes drank up your daring fashion choice, you made the right call. He closed the book, making his way to you in only a few long strides. “You. Look. Positively. Exquisite,” he told you through an oversized grin.

“Thank you,” you answered sheepishly, looking away and hoping your face didn’t expose the flutter your chest felt.

Loki turned himself towards the door, holding his arm out for you to take hold of. “Well, shall we go, darling?”

“Actually, there’s something I need to tell you,” you were about to explain when a knock came from the door. Loki’s brow scrunched as you walked over, going on, “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you about...”

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[morethanatitle]

From Feuding to Friends

In collaboration with @evanderofscots​ read below the cut for full thread.

Erika was starting to head out with Kara to take a stroll around the castle grounds. "Slow down, young one." She said as she pulled the little one to look at her. "We do not run indoors, especially when it is not our castle." Kara groaned. "Yes. I am ruining your fun..." she replied sarcastically. As they kept going, she saw Evander coming from one of the rooms leading into the hallway. "One moment, Kara..." she called out to the girl before turning to him with a curtsy. "Good afternoon, Chancellor. What are your plans this afternoon?"

Evander exited his office that afternon with a pounding headache. He had listened to one of his laird's lament for over an hour about how the termites were destroying all his lumber. How exactly that man expected the crown to help, Evander had no idea, but he was glad to be rid of him and leave the actual handling on Alasdair's desk. Evander heard the giggling of a young girl as he exited into the hallway, and looked up to see the Lady Erika approaching with her charge. He ground his teeth, still feeling the humiliation of their match through the yellowing bruises on his ribs. Still, when she courtsied before him, he was cordial. He bowed his hed as he greeted her, "Milady Erika. A pleasure to see you again." He told her, though the words were somewhat twisted by his displeasure with their history. "I've just finished my duties for the day and was hoping to clear my mind," preferrably with a bottle of whiskey.

“That’s not what you are supposed to call her. You have a deal,” Kara spoke up as she returned to Erika’s side. “Now you need to address him properly too.” Erika replied. Kara rolled her eyes before giving the man a curtsy and muttering. “Good morning, Chancellor.”The older woman patted her head to show approval before turning back to Evander. “Well, we are about to head outside to take a walk. You are more than welcome to join us if you like.” The little girl’s face lit up. “Please join us, Thor!” Erika cleated her throat and have the girl a look to behave. “I hope you can join us, sir.” Erika has been working hard to teach her proper decorum once they were in public.

Evander's eyes traveled down to the child and he grimaced. He had never been fond of children. They were messy and loud and often interrupted at the most inopportune times, and her pointing out Evander's supposed indiscretion only made him dislike her further. But he still turned back to Erika with a smile and said, "Good afternoon, my Commander," He gritted the title out between tight teeth. He was considering politely dismissing the offer, when the Child's declaration caught his attention. He creased his eyebrows and looked from the lass back up to her governess, one eyebrow raised, "Did she just call me a God?" He asked, arrogant mischief dancing in his eyes. He still wished to chase his headache away with whiskey, but he sighed and decided a few minutes outside might do him well, and she would at least provide a pretty sight. He sighed and nodded, "I suppose I can spare myself for a few minutes."

It was hard for Erika not to laugh when she could tell how hard this was for him. She chuckled and shook her head. “She says that you remind her of Thor based on your appearance.” She smiled at him accepting the invitation. “Well, we would be happy with your company.” Kara briskly walked enough, just slow enough to be considered walking but practically running. Erika rolled her eyes in defeat. She couldn’t scold her for following the rules. “So, how are the affairs of Scotland today?” She genuinely wanted to make peace with him. He did put up a good fight, and she was always interested to learn more about fellow army leaders.

Evander took up an even pace next to Erika, arms clasped behind his back. He was happy to see the child run ahead. At least they might be able to speak as adults after all. He snorted unceremoniously at her question. "I'd much rather handle affairs on a field of battle than behind that damned desk. I didna realize being Chancellor would be so... banal." He probably should not have voiced such opinions so openly, but somehow her connection to Svala made him feel as of he could take the same candor with her.

She chuckled at his response. “I can understand that. While I am happy for my position here, I do miss commanding an army. There are clearer strategies in place for tackling a battle than there is battling a stubborn child.” She smiled with him. “It was nice to duel again. It has been quite some time for me, and I appreciated the exercise. I must admit I thought several times throughout that you were going to win. You have been trained well for someone who is used to battling on land.”

Evander understood what she said well enough, although he didn't much see the difference as he had thought more than once that herding soldiers was not much different from handling children. He looked over at her and smiled playfully at her assessment of their duel. "I have trained extensively by land and by sea. I still hold that I might have won if I hadn't gotten so cocky." The one and only time he would ever admit such a thing.

“I knew that would be your weakness, so I kept that in my mind. You are not the first man that has held that weakness when battling me. Most men are cocky when they battle me because I am a woman. But you will never make that mistake with me or any woman.” She smiled playfully back at him. It was shocking to believe he admitted to his cockiness so easily.

He gritted his teeth at her response, but replied flirtatiously, "Well hard be it for any man to keep from getting cocky with a maiden like you pressed against him."

"I definitely saw that at the duel, but I think that cockiness when you had me against you was what caused me to deliver the final blow to your most precious area." She wanted to use the term similar to cockiness, but she didn't want to have someone overhear her.

Evander smirked at her. He could see the teasing glint in her eyes and knew she was not shy about having touched him there as so many other girls might be, and he laughed, "I'll admit I had hoped to have a more enjoyable contact between you and my... cockiness." He scoffed to himself. "But as per our bet, I suppose I shall never know."

She rolled her eyes but smiled to show she was okay with his teasing. "Perhaps, but I would still like to get to know you. It may not be a date, but I have a feeling we have much in common."

He decided he liked this girl. She was unapologetic and confident, and clearly skilled. As much as he wished to bed her, he wouldnt mind calling her his friend. Perhaps it was something about Norwegian woman that they had a knack for gaining his respect. "I am quite fond of your queen," he confided in her, "It would please me to have the same relationship with you as well."

She smiled and nodded. "Well,  you will find we are very similar and yet different at the same time." She chuckled as they left the castle and the sun appeared when they stepped outside. "Now, is there anything you want to know about me?"

Given permission to pry, Evander asked the one question that had played him since their duel. "Where on earth did you learn to fight m"

She had a feeling this was going to be his first inquiry. "When my father was a child, his younger sister was killed when walking home, and he vowed if he ever had daughters that he would teach them to defend themselves. My father started my training, and I enjoyed learning it more than my younger sisters. He helped me get more formal training when I joined the Norwegian army. The more I rose through the ranks, the more training I received."

He nodded thoughtfully at her answer. So she had received both formal and informal training. That offered some explanation to her unexpected skill as he told her, "I've found that informally trained fighters provide challenges of their own. I, myself, learned everything I know here, at the palace. And the rare opponent to have bested me has often been of an informal fighting style." He explained to her, referring mostly to the pirates and bandits he managed on the seas. "And you have the advantage of both."

She nodded as she processed where his training was from. "That is true. I have learned to use both in battle to get the upper hand. That last move I used to win was one of my father's tricks. He called it that 'SING' maneuver because you hit four areas: the solaplex, instep of the foot, the nose, and the groin."

Evander gave a signature Scotish snort to learn the specifics of the move she had used to disable him so quickly he hadn't been sure what had happened. It made much more sense now. "I will have to remember that," he told her, "Although I suspect I will have far less opportunity to use it."

Erika smiled. "It could always be used if you are ever grabbed from behind. I am sure you have  had many chances to use that during your times in the war." She kept the stroll at a decent pace. "How did you come to become a soldier?"

Evander shook his head chuckling, "I'm far too tall for most to attack from behind, lass. And on the occasion someone tries to jump on me, I do as you did to me and throw them over my shoulder." Evander looked out at the horizon, where the child had already run far into the fields ahead of them. That was fine with him. She was not his responsibility. Her next question hit him in a personal spot, despite being so simple. It wasn't something he had talked about much. "Alasdair asked me to, long ago, before he was King. I had lost my wife and he had lost his father. It was the right thing for us at the time."

"I have seen taller men," she said as she assessed before chuckling. Her eyebrow raised at his comment. "You have been married?" He didn't seem like to get married. "How long ago did she pass away?" she was wondering how long he had been a soldier.

Evander laughed at her disbelief and replied, "Much to my dismay. It was not a very amicable union," He explained. "Over 15 years ago now. It was as short lived as it was loathesome."

"An arranged marriage?" She had to admit she was grateful her father never pressured that sort of thing on her or any of her sisters. "You did not get along based on your tone."

Evander nodded as he walked, "My father made the match in hopes that it would bring peace between our Clans, but her father was not so happy when she died birthing my child. I'm afraid 15 years later, there is still not much peace to be found between them." He said all this very matter of factly, no emotion attached. After all, Evander had never cared for his wife or his child, and had fo uh and it a convenience to see them both gone. "I donna have much patience for Scotish women, and they have even less patience for me. In case you hadn't guessed, I'm not much a fan of being told what to do."

Erika gasped when he explained how his wife died. To lose a wife and a child all at once must be horrible, but he seemed almost glad that she was gone? He didn't seem to mourn the child either. "I am so sorry. My sister lost her child when she was halfway through her pregnancy, and she and her husband have never been the same." She nodded in agreement. "I have noticed that a few times."

Evander waved her off, "As I said, I never got along well with my wife. And I've never wanted children. I believe I gained far more than I lost joining Alasdair in the Navy. It was the right place for me."

She stayed silent and looked at Kara down the way. "Stay where I can see you!" she called out to the little one. She thought about Svala and all they went through. "What are your most memorable times in the Navy?"

Evander looked up, considering for a moment. His most memorable moments on the next had been primarily in Alasdair's bed, but he couldn't tell her that. So instead he said, "Perhaps the times we got to watch ships sink. It's a rather stirring sight. Particularly when you've set them aflame yourself."

She nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant. "The satisfying visual of your victory. I can understand this." Erika chuckled.

He smiled, quirking one brow at her. He had never thought about it quite like that, but he supposed it was right. It was always the taste of success which he savored most. Evander watched as the young girl ran up to a group of ladies sunning on the lawn, and asked Erika, "Should she be doing that?" He asked, displeased to see her causing a commotion among the guests of his palace.

She looked over and saw Kara trying to start a conversation with the women that were sitting over there. "They don't seem bothered by her," she replied. The women seemed to chuckle with the young girl. She let the girl have a moment before calling her back over. Kara said a goodbye and got distracted by some of the dogs relaxing. The dogs seemed happy for her attention as she stroked their fur. "Bless her heart. She doesn't have anyone her age to play with. It gets lonely for her sometimes." Her attention went back to her conversation with Evander. "What is your ideal type of battle? Unarmed? Sword? Something else?"

Evander grimaced at her lack of concern with the child's behavior before he let it go, returning his attention to Erika. He question caught him off guard as it wasn't something he had considered before. "I canna say," he responded, deeper hints of his Scottish accept revealing themselves as he grew comfortable with her, "It has always just been about the thrill of the fight."

She enjoyed talking about strategy with someone. She was curious about how he got to where he was and what his fighting experience was like. "Is there a particular fight or moment during the fight that you were the most proud of? Or a favorite strategy?"

A smirk came to Evander's face as he considered this. He was an expert strategist, it was one of the things Alasdair needed him for. Whenever the King was at a loss on how to manage their troops, Evander could waltz in and cut a clear path through the enemy without a thought. But his methods were sometimes less than convention. "Hmmm..." he started, "I once took back a port from and entire fleet of English with a single ship."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Did you?” she replied curiously. “Did you use some sort of “attack the weak area strategy?” She was curious how other commanders would have approached it.

Evander scoffed, "The Englishmen's primary weakness is that they are a bunch of bumbling idiots who let their guard down way too easily." He smirked at the memory, it had certainly been one of his most daring attempts, "Myself and a group of men waited until nightfall under the new moon, then sailed out to the port in dinghies. Once we were close enough, each of us swam to a different English ship, climbed inside, and lit a fuse in their legs of gun powder before jumping out into the water. 23 ships, all up in flames at once." His expression quirked for a moment as he remembered the scar on his shoulder from being hit with burning debris during that attack, "The swim back was not quite as exhilarating."

Erika listened intently as he described the strategy. “That is clever. I am personally a fan of divide and conquer situations. I believe they allow you to do the most damage to your opponent without drawing attention to yourself too early. And you were smart to resort to destroying the ship rather than attacking man to man. That was a strong use of your limited resources.” She was doing this not only to boost his ego but also show her understanding of military strategy.

Evander smirked, his chest puffing out as he preened under her praise. "Why thank you, Milady," he said theatrically, throwing her a dashing smile.

Erika realized quickly he was too focused on himself to actively ask the same questions about her. This might explain the tensions with his wife if he didn’t make an effort towards learning about her or her days.

Evander noticed a silence fall between them, but didn't understand why. Had he said something wrong? He thought about it for a second and remembered the stupid title he'd sworn to in his bet. Thinking this was the reason, he spun around to face herz stopping them in their path, "Excuse me, I mean, thank you, my... commander." He still couldn't get it out without gritting his teeth, but he smiled through it.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Kara isn’t here, and no one else around us for that matter. You don’t have to call me that when it is just us,” she replied. “I am surprised you made that effort to keep calling me that. You could have refused Kara earlier.”

EvanderBOTYesterday at 8:52 AM

Evander narrowed his eyes at her in mock incredulity, "But I am a man of honor, and honorable men always keep their bets." He bellowed. Although he did feel better to hear she did not actually expect that of him. The whole thing was preposterous.

“I might remind you of the bet every now and again to keep you humble,” she teased playfully. “Did it actually seem so inconceivable that Queen Svala would have a female commander. I know you know her well enough to know she is not the conventional sort.”

Evander sighed. He supposed he should pi uldnt have been surprised that Svala would do such a thing, but it was not as if going from Commander to Governess was a common path. "It would not be hard to believe if you looked like Svala, but you do not carry yourself like a shield maiden." He commented, looking over her clean dress, although plainer and more functional that what most ladies wore, it was not like the fur and leather and armors her Queen adorned.

"I would if you saw me in battle. That is also why I wore pants to the duel." She chuckled. "When I am at court, I tend to wear dresses and gowns since that is more appropriate attire for a lady, even if I am not a noblewoman." She didn't mind wearing skirts form time to time, if she were honest. "However, I feel like the female servants should wear pants. It would make their work easier."

Evander scoffed. The idea of gaggles of servant girls running around in pants was absurd. They would look ridiculous. "You have a rather peculiar view of the world," he told her.

"What is so peculiar about it? Why shouldn't the servants wear clothing that is best for their work?" She was curious what kind of reasoning he would try to give for this.

"They would look ridiculous!" He spat our without thought. "Women, running everywhere in pants?" The image was absurd. And he thought further to the sinful thoughts he'd had of her seeing the right pants she'd worn to their duel and followed it with, "And I canna imagine why a woman would wish to worming something so... exposing."

"Why would we look ridiculous? Just because it is not common. We women have legs, do we not?" She crossed her arms. "What is the reason you don't wear your finest suit to the battlefield? Because it would not be the best for battle, correct? You wear what is best for the job. With everything servants have to do, the freedom of pants would be much better than a skirt.

Evander scoffed incredulously, "And would the unwanted attention from men be so much better too? You put them at risk for a... frivolity!" He snapped.

Erika raised her eyebrow. "I would dare for you to call it a frivolity until you have tried to win a battle in both a skirt and pants. I assure you the difference is more substantial than you give it credit for."

"I never said you should wear skirts in battle. That would be I'll advised. But to wear pants in the palace! It would be completely out of place!"

"I was simply making a point. Clearly I couldn't make you understand." She looked at him. "Why would that be so ridiculous? Men wear pants in the palace. Why can't women?"

"Because they're men!" He snapped at her, eyes going wide. How could she be so dense? He was about to go off on a rant about the temptations of women when the child ran back up to them and screamed 'WHY ARE WE YELLING?" Evander rolled his eyes and groaned, turning away. Children really were a nuissance.

"You Scottish men wear kilts, which are simply very short skirts. If you can do that, why couldn't women wear pants?" She chuckled when Kara came in. "The chancellor just got too excited." Kara nodded. "Can I ask the servant to bring some treats for the dogs?" Erika agreed as the little girl ran to find the nearest servant.

Evander stammered for a minute. He had never given much thought to the similarities between Kilts and skirts. So instead he simply stated childishly, "Well we wear kilts into battle, you should be just as capable of working in your skirts."

"But if it is not ridiculous for men to wear some sort of skirt, why is it ridiculous for women to wear pants? And our skirts with four layers and a bustle while your kilt is shorter and one layer. Fighting in our skirts may not be the same thing." She opened her eyes as if gesturing to herself. "Did you think I looked ridiculous wearing pants the other day?"

Evander scoffed indignantly, crossing his arms and looking away as her no-nonsense expression noted into him until he finally snapped meeting her eyes darkly, "I thought you looked positively fuckable, and that is exactly my point."

How many times must he make her roll her eyes? She scoffed at his comment. "I don't think that is the fault of the woman. The man should learn to think with his brain and not his cock. The pants could also be looser to not be so tempting."

Evander narrowed his eyes at her, eager to be done with this topic, "Ye can dress yer women however you like in Norway. We'll keep ours covered here in Scotland." He turned away from her and began walking again at a slow pace for a few steps before turning back and looking at her, "Are you coming?"

She rolled her eyes once more, knowing he didn't have any way to argue what she just did. Erika nodded and checked where Kara was. As she picked up pace with Evander, Kara caught on and made sure to stay where Erika could still see her.

Evander couldn't  think of much to speak about after their little tiff, and so he resorted to his typical gambit of small talk, asking, "Is it your first time in Scotland, Milady?"

"I am enjoying it. The mountain landscapes are just breathtaking." She replied as she followed him. "I am happy that we never had any wars with Scotland, so I could enjoy the landscapes properly."

Evander smiled, preening with pride for his homeland. "She is a beauty," he said fondly. "Even in days of battles there is always beauty to be found here. It makes it easy to lay one's life on the line for their country."

"I find I can never enjoy the beauty of any country when I am at war. My focus is strictly on the battle." She smiled. "Is there a specific place here in Scotland I should try before we go back to Norway?"

He considered her question and said, "There are any number of beautiful sights throughout the highlands, but most of them would be a three day trip at least. Not much fit for a tourist's journey."

"That is a shame. Perhaps I will need to come back and stay in the highlands then." She looked back to see where Kara was, and she was happily exploring some of the different flowers.

"I would be happy to show you some time, and your queen and her children as well," He said. He would much rather be alone with the two women, even if he knew he would never bed them, than with their gaggle of girls, but he knew it was unlikely to get one without the other, and he would take any excuse to explore the Scottish countryside. The thought also reminded him that her Queen had no sons, and he furrowed his brow in thought, asking absently, "Does Svala mean for her eldest daughter to rule?" It was not as if it was unnatural, such a thing. After all, Svala was a queen in her own right as well, but he knew also that the struggles of such women to retain their power when it came time for ruler's to change were not easy to overcome.

Erika looked at him and smirked. "I shall bring it up to the Queen and see if that was something she would enjoy." His next question did not surprise her. He had already shown his narrow minded perspective on women to make it not seem shocking. "Of course she does. That is why the two of us have worked hard to train the girls on self defense and basic combat. They should know how to do so as possible queens."

Evander nodded earnestly, "I hope that she can continue the amicable relationship her mother has made with Scotland." He had never given much thought to the girl. She was too young to be on his radar as a conquest, and even if she weren't his respect for Svala would never have allowed him to give her a second glance. He turned his gaze back to his companion, "And what do you think you'll do? When that time comes?"

"I believe that is the plan as long as no problems have arisen between our two countries." At his question, she looked away. "I have to admit I am not sure. Erik and Svala want to have another child, so I thought I would have some time before I need to know that step."

Evander nodded thoughtfully, "It is well enough to know your place in the world. I must say, it is not a feeling I am particularly familiar with. Except, perhaps, by his Majesty's side." It was an unusually candid confession for him, but she seemed to draw that out easily in Evander.

"It seems that both of our positions rely on the favor of the current monarch," she replied with a smile. "It does seem that the king is greatly trusting of you, and I am sure you can have his son swayed to your side as well."

Evander nodded, though he had never figured he would be at risk even if the monarchy in Scotland did change. He supposed he would return to the Navy, though upon deeper thought, any events that might culminate in Alasdair's loss of power would most certain require Evander's death as well. At the mention of the young prince, Evander grimaced slightly. "If his mother's silver tongue does not poison him first." He bit out bitterly.

Her eyebrow raised at his talk about Alasdair's mother. She was not aware that the woman had such a reputation, but he spoke as if it was common knowledge. This woman was never a queen, so what power could she possibly have over this? "Does his mother actively disapprove of your title?"

Evander raised an eyebrow at the phrasing of her question, seeing that she may have misunderstood his meaning. So he said pointedly, "The Queen Valentina and I have not yet gotten stuck of each other, but she is borne of the Medici snakes, and I do not trust that she will not betray Alasdair as she did his brother. I do not know what type of Prince she will raise his son to be." He knew he should not speak such conspiracies so openly, but he did not mind if word of his suspicion made it back to the Queen. Perhaps it would keep her on notice.

Erika couldn't help but laugh. "Oh. I thought you were referring to Alasdair's mother," she replied with a chuckle. "Well, if we are to be quite honest, I am not a supporter of the queen," she whispered. "I have the same worries for Alasdair and anyone who supports her. She has not shown any evidence to be the most faithful of sorts."

Evander was relieved to know that she was on his side, despite already knowing that Svala agreed with his sentiments. "Only time will tell," he said absently. They had wandered near a marsh, and in the distance he could see Kara jumping from one stone to another across the muddy group. He raised an eyebrow and no sooner had he said ,"I donna think that is a wise activity, " than the child lost her footing on a loose rock and tumbling into the mud with a plop.

She sighed and nodded. Their conversation was becoming very interesting when he made the comment and she paid close attention to the terrain around the rocks. Before she could call out, the little girl fell in the mud. "Kara..." she immediately ran to her and helped her up. "Are you alright?" Kara had a big smile. "Yeah! Look! I could hide in the mud to scare my enemy in battle." Erika chuckled. "Yes you could, but aren't in battle. We will need to get you changed."

Evander grimaced and the giggling soiled child. She would leave a mess trekking through the castle to get changed. Another one of the many hassles with children. He watched Erika fuss over the girl with a complete lack of ability to relate to her concern. As a boy, he had fallen into the mud many times and never worried about getting hurt. He shifted uncomfortably at the scene and said, "I suppose I should leave you to take care of this."

Erika looked up to him with an apologetic look. "I am sorry. I do have to get her cleaned up before she goes and gives the Queen a hug..." she chuckled. "Thank you for joining us on your walk. I have enjoyed your company and conversation. Perhaps we could have more of these conversations in the future?"

The image she painted of the child soiling her mother's gown only made Evander more averse to the child, even though he knew it likely wouldn't bother Svala as much as most. He nodded graciously to his companion and said, "I would like that, Milady. When you are less... occupied."

"Thank you for your understanding, Chancellor," she replied with a smile. "Of course. Perhaps I can find a time once the king and queen spend time with the children to talk with you."

[three-houses-text-files]

byleth/mercedes

c-s support + paired ending + night of the ball

c

Mercedes: Good evening, Professor. Returning from work, I take it?

>That's right.

M: I commend you for working so late into the evening. All of my days at the academy are enriching, thanks to you.

>I'm still working.

M: My goodness! It's so late in the evening. That must be exhausting.

M: Try not to overtax yourself, all right? I'm concerned for your health. We wouldn't want you to wear yourself out. M: The goddess won't smite you if you rely on others for help, you know.

>Even so...

M: Listen here, Professor. You might not like what I'm about to say. M: To be perfectly honest, I had my doubts when I first met you.

>That's surprising.

>Why's that?

M: I don't want you to think less of me for saying this, but here we are. M: At first I thought you seemed too young to be a professor. It is unusual, you have to admit. M: Yet, you seemed very composed and mature, despite your age. M: You're strong-willed, encouraging, and you go to great lengths to ensure that everyone is cared for. M: But it almost feels like you're trying too hard to be a perfect role model for your students.

>I'm not trying too hard.

>It comes with the territory.

M: If that's how you feel, then I can't disagree. But I think it's necessary to give yourself a break every now and again. M: The mind has a tendency to make mistakes when you've exhausted yourself. M: In my case, I still seem to make mistakes even when I'm wide awake.

>Mistakes?

M: Oh, you know. I'm always mixing up the dates for drills or misplacing things. M: Just the other day, I forgot to put on my uniform and headed out to practice wearing only my— M: Oh, um. Well, you can imagine how embarrassed I was. My mind can be so scattered sometimes. M: Anyway... Where was I? Ah, that's right. What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't push yourself too hard. M: If you do, you might end up in a pretty bad place. M: That reminds me! Is there anything I can do to assist you, Professor? M: If it's all right with you, I'd like to help in any way I can.

>Thanks, I appreciate it.

M: Whatever you need, just say the word.

>I'm not sure about that.

M: It'll be fine! I might be clumsy, but I'll get better over time.

M: I look forward to helping you out.

——————————————————————————————

b

NPC: You there, youngster. Won't you listen to this old man's troubles? NPC: I was born and raised right here in this town. I spent my whole life here. NPC: My daughter lives in the Empire, and she sent me a letter to ask if I was keeping up with my daily worship.

>...

M: Well, hello there, Professor. Is this a friend of yours?

>I don't know him.

M: Is that so? I was sure you two knew each other. M: Is there something we can do for you, good sir? NPC: Oh, what a lovely young lady! I was just telling this kind soul a story. M: Really? What's troubling you? NPC: Well, I was thinking of going to daily prayer, but my leg's been acting up and I can't walk properly. M: How terrible! That's no good at all. May I be of assistance? M: I'd be happy to lend a shoulder and escort you to the chapel. NPC: Would you? Oh, I'd be most grateful to you. Thank the goddess for sending this young lady to me today! M: We'll need your help too, Professor. Here, sir, take my arm. M: Splendid work, Professor. He really seemed to appreciate our assistance.

>We did a good deed.

M: I don't think I did anything particularly deserving of praise. I'm just happy that I could help.

>You helped me out too.

M: You did a great job cheering him up on your own!

M: Putting a smile on someone's face always seems to brighten up the day. M: Is something wrong? You're giving me a strange look.

>How did you know something was bothering him?

M: Oh. Hmm... How should I put this... M: I suppose it's just second nature to me.

>What do you mean?

M: It's difficult to describe, but I can usually tell when someone is worried about something. M: Back there, I could tell that both you and the old man were in distress. M: I spent a good amount of my life living in the church. Maybe that's why I'm so good at identifying these things?

>Living in the church?

>That's news to me.

M: Did I not mention that before? M: I spent nearly 10 years of my life in the church of Faerghus. M: Many came to us with their troubles. M: In my own time of need, I once ran to the church myself, and they helped me. M: May I share something with you, Professor? It's about a dream of mine.

>What is your dream?

M: I'd like to work in the church one day. I want to be like the priest who helped me. M: Never mind. It's not a very realistic dream. Please, forget I said anything. M: If I were someone else, perhaps a commoner without a Crest or stature, maybe things would be different. M: It's a bit sad, but...this is the way things have to be. M: After all, only the goddess can decide our fates.

——————————————————————————————

a

M: Do you have a moment, Professor? I need to speak with you. M: Thank you so much. This is what I wanted to address... M: This letter from my adoptive father just arrived.

>Adoptive father?

M: Oh! Have I not mentioned him? He's the reason I first came to the Officers Academy. M: He's also the one who dragged me from the church where I was living just so he could use my Crest.

>I don't understand...

M: My Crest does not yet belong to a house, so he plans to use it as leverage to marry into the nobility. M: He's a very greedy man who was a roving merchant before adopting me, but now he's in the capital. M: This letter says that he's finally arranged to marry me off to a wealthy noble. M: I know he's just thinking of himself, but can't he see that this isn't a priority when we're at war?

>My thoughts exactly.

>Maybe the war has pushed him to this?

M: I suppose it's possible. He may be worried about carrying on his bloodline, but... M: Ugh! I don't know what to do about this proposal!

>Will you accept?

M: I can't see any way around it, so I fear that I must... M: I just don't want to let go of the life that I've made for myself. M: I know it's not what my heart wants, but I don't have the strength to say no.

>What does your heart want?

M: I believe I've mentioned this before, but I want to work in service of the church. M: Well, I suppose it doesn't necessarily have to be the church, but I want to help those in need. M: If I were to marry a noble, I think it would be difficult to realize that dream...

>Why can't you decline?

M: It's just... I've always allowed myself to follow the whims of those above me. M: I convinced myself that everything in life was at the will of the goddess. I was blind to reality. M: I believed it was her will to both pull me from the church and guide me to the Officers Academy. M: The decision to enter this war was the first time I acted of my own free will. M: My adoptive father opposed this decision, but I somehow managed to convince him. M: Still, I couldn't free myself of him completely. This letter is proof of that. M: It's not that I'm scared of him, but there is something that worries me...

>Severing your ties?

M: Ah! I knew you'd understand, Professor. M: I've sat down to write a reply several times, but I can't muster up the courage, or the words. M: I was hoping you could provide me with the encouragement I need!

>Why reply at all?

M: If I don't, he'll go ahead with the arrangement!

M: I suppose I must aim toward cutting him out of my life completely...

>You can't just give up on your dreams.

M: That's a very good point! We're only given one life, so we must do all we can to pursue our happiness!

M: OK! I think that may have been just the push I was looking for! M: I'll tell him the truth. That I've found a life worth pursuing and I must decline the proposal! M: Maybe I should tell him I've fallen for someone else?

>Fallen for someone else?

>Who might that be?

M: Why, it's you, Professor! Isn't that obvious?

>Excuse me?

>I wouldn't say "obvious"...

M: I'm just teasing! M: Now, I'm off to write this letter and stand my ground. Thank you for your encouragement!

——————————————————————————————

s

M: There you are! I apologize for the short notice, but I'm so glad you could make it! M: I'm sure you're very busy, being the hero of Fódlan and all.

>Yes, very busy.

M: Then I'm afraid that what I'm about to ask may come at an inopportune time.

>I have some time.

M: What a relief! I have to ask you something, but I'd hate to inconvenience you!

M: Do you mind hearing me out?

>I'll listen.

>I'd be happy to.

M: Ah! Great! Here it is... M: I'm going to Fhirdiad to meet with my adoptive father, and I'd like you to accompany me.

>What for?

>Is it necessary for you to go?

M: I feel the need to set things straight with him in my own way. M: I want proper closure. I'm going to tell him face-to- face that this is farewell. M: I've already decided exactly what I'm going to say. M: I'm choosing to live my life how I want, in pursuit of my own happiness. I need you to accept that. M: I'm in charge of my own destiny. Not you, not anyone else. Just me. M: Ah... I've waited so long to say all that.

>Why do you need me to accompany you?

M: That's a very good question... Where do I start? M: Remember when I teased that I'd fallen for you? M: The truth is...that wasn't entirely in jest. I fell for you some time ago. In fact, I'd very much like to spend my life with you. M: Of course, that's only if you'll have me...

>I had something similar in mind.

M: Oh my goodness!

>I love you, Mercedes. Let's get married.

M: Yes! Let's! You've no idea what this means to me. This may be the happiest I've ever been! M: I'm so glad I could finally express my feelings. Now we can live the rest of our lives together! M: To think, I was able to choose this path of my own volition, and now I get to walk it with you! M: Should one person be allowed this much happiness? M: But still, you're only given one life. Are you sure you want to spend it with me? M: I may be quite demanding at times as I intend on pursuing my dreams. M: I want to help those in need, wherever they may be. And I won't give up on that.

>I'll always support you.

M: I thought that's what you might say! M: Perhaps that's why I fell for you. It's just the way you are. M: All right, let's be off! It's no short journey to Fhirdiad. M: Oh, something to note...

>Yes?

M: You should know that I can be quite scatterbrained. And clumsy... M: But I will do everything in my power to help and support you too, whatever you may need! M: What a wonderful life we will lead together...

——————————————————————————————

paired endings

Byleth announced his/her marriage to Mercedes shortly after becoming leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. Mercedes ensured that Fódlan paid special attention, in its rebuilding effort, to folks who had lost jobs and to children who had lost their families due to the war. The couple was said to mingle frequently among the people, working up a sweat right alongside them. They happily spent their lives ushering in a new era.

Byleth announced his/her marriage to Mercedes shortly after being named archbishop of the Church of Seiros. Mercedes took on duties as a cleric and through that work ensured that the church offered special support to children who had lost their families due to the war. The couple was said to mingle frequently among the people, working up a sweat right alongside them. They happily spent their lives ushering in a new era.

Byleth and Mercedes wed in haste, that they might better focus on their battle against those who slither in the dark. The struggle was long and arduous, but their passionate love supported them through it. When at last the fight was done, they moved to a small village in the Faerghus region and started an orphanage. There they took in and raised children who had lost their families in the war, regardless of their blood or circumstances of birth. It is said that Mercedes was never happier than when she was surrounded by smiling children, free of all worry.

——————————————————————————————

night of the ball

M: Why, Professor! I was wondering where you ran off to. M: I searched the entire floor but couldn't find you anywhere. M: Tired, are we? I can tell by that look on your face. It must be exhausting being so popular, huh?

>I'm exhausted...

M: I can imagine. Shall we take a break here, then? M: Say, Professor. Have you heard the legend of the Goddess Tower? M: They say that if two people exchange a vow here, the goddess herself will fulfill it.

>I've never heard that before.

M: Well, that simply won't do. You'll fall behind if you can't keep up with your students!

>I think I recall such a story.

M: Ah, so even you have heard that one. The stories must travel far.

M: Many young couples come here in private, all thanks to that legend. M: They make promises to stay together forever. Things like that. M: I actually saw a man invite a lady to join him at the tower while on my way here.

M: It's rather romantic, don't you think?

>I think so.

M: Indeed.

>I disagree.

M: Really? You're a strange one, Professor.

M: Though, just because two people share a promise, that doesn't guarantee they'll be together forever. M: You've noticed many nobles at the academy, right? They very rarely have the freedom to choose their own partners. M: Yet still they wish to stay together. Maybe that's why they pray to the goddess. M: Are you waiting on anyone, Professor?

>No, there's no one.

M: What a relief. I was afraid that I was keeping you.

>I was waiting for you.

M: Oh my. Even though we didn't make plans to meet? You're a charmer, aren't you?

M: Ah! I almost forgot why I came looking for you! M: I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me. M: It's just so loud in the reception hall though. I think I'd rather stay here with you... M: If that's all right with you, Professor. M: Thank you. I appreciate it.

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 4

Prompt: Blue, floor, Foreigner’s God by Hozier (passages in block quotes) Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing, angst, pain (mostly emotional), arguing, sadness, mention of trauma, LEMONS (with a hint of dom/sub?)...fluff? A/N: Link to previous chapters in Masterlist (check bio or tab). If you want a tag, then just ask (yay). Please reblog if you enjoyed...or comment! Comments are nice too. When that’s said...probably a shitload of typos etc bc i’ve not proofread ‘cause I’m in a shitty place mentally after a too social weekend (so worth it though). “Resume”: (Because this takes off right where we left last chapter)  The heavy sigh rattles you to your core. “I’m sorry for this, [Y/N].” Glancing briefly, you see how he runs a hand over his face, rubbing the tired eyes momentarily. “I can only imagine what you must think of me, truly…but I need you to hear me out, alright?”

It’s not like you have a choice, really, and this conversation has started nothing like you’d expected. “Then talk.”

Holding the Devil’s Hand

Waiting impatiently for the worst too happen, it surprised you when you realize he’s sitting down on the floor as far away from you as possible. There are other options for him to sit comfortably, still he’s chosen the least threatening option. It’s on purpose…trying to make me at ease. Drop my guard. Regardless the reasoning behind it, however, the silence still hangs heavy in the air, threatening to explode if neither of you say anything.

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me

“I’m not good at these sort of things…apologies.” Stalling already with a sigh, Loki settles down more comfortably in the corner by the door. “I realize that…nothing I say can make it up to you…” You can feel his eyes on your back and it paralyses you, afraid what might set him off. “I…I’m prone to think very highly of myself and my skills as the God of Mischief and Chaos. Finding that I had been tricked and by a Midgardian girl no less?” He snorts in disbelief at his own words, releasing a hot prickle of anger in your chest. “I was intrigued. Amused more than offended…”

You grab the chance as he trails off. “So far you’ve said nothing that warrants fucking kidnapping me! Either get to it or let me go now!”

“Easy, tiger,” the god smirks, “my point is…your skills, personality…you…I see potential. The few testes I arranged proved that you’re exactly the partner in crime I need for a very delicate…challenge. I’ve been spending almost every waking hour since we parted to try to find you in the hopes of…convincing you to return so I could explain myself and extend an offer I think would be mutually beneficial,” Loki’s voice lowers to a purr, “because you can’t deny that we’re good together. Although…complementing each others’ baser instinct was a bonus which I thought you had no problem with until the…misunderstanding we –“

“Misunderstanding?” Spinning to face him, all the fear’s been flushed away by anger-fueled adrenaline and you can feel the nails dig into your palms to keep your hands from shaking. Anger at him. And anger at the heat in your core at the memories he awakens. “Misunderstanding!? Are you fuckin’ serious right now??!! You hit me so hard that I landed at the other side of the bloody room!”

He’s on his feet quicker than you can fathom and you jerk backwards until you collide with the bench by the window, sending you hard on your ass. The fearful retreat stops him short. Burning indignation reigned in in the same way he returns to the far side although he stays standing.

“What you accused me of being willing to do…” Loki’s voice’s shaking with anger although he tries to hold it back, “people may never think of me as good, but I have a code if you will. Some things that I’ll never lower myself to.”

“H-how should I…” The words are hardly getting across your lips as you stutter meekly along, so you try again. “Ho-ow should I know that?” It’s hardly a victory to finish a sentence, but this time it feels as though you’ve accomplished something grand, the little thrill enabling you to continue. “Prone, held at knifepoint by a guy who was accused of all sorts of shit. And not just here on earth.”

You know from experience how good Loki’s at using his tongue, but words don’t come easy as he opens and closes the pretty mouth of his until eventually, he stops trying and withdraws into himself. Once more, the only sounds is the faint buzz from the lamps and a gurgle in the waterpipes hidden behind the rich wallpaper. Rubbing the back of your legs where you’d slammed them against the seat, you assure yourself that not even a bruise will hint at your clumsiness.

The sound of a lock makes you look up to see Loki opening the door and stepping well out of the way, granting a clear path out of his bedroom. He doesn’t look at you, so you doubt your ears when he tells you that you are free to go.

Hesitantly at first, you tread across the soft carpet, each step bringing you close to freedom yet also fanning a doubt in your mind. Five steps to the door, Loki’s standing still in front of the mirror by the dresser. Four steps, you ignore the frown and glistening trail on his cheek. Two steps, and your legs are slowing, body fighting against the logic that urges you to hurry out and down the stairs, whishing no one will stop you. One step, and a memory presents itself, uncalled for at an inopportune moment which causes even your logic to hesitate. In the doorway itself, you come to a halt.

She feels no control of her body She feels no safety in my arms

“What was it?” Don’t hear the quiver of my voice, please.

You can see the staircase from where you stand, the broad steps granting a glimpse to the hall below.

“What was what?” Loki answers flatly.

“What was the reason the charges were dropped? About your role in New York?”

Everyone had been stunned when the news leaked, and it had been the rage in the media and online where the most absurd conspiracy theories went unchecked because really, what arguments were there anymore now that it was a fact that aliens existed?

“It’s of no consequence.” Arms cross over his chest, defiant and protectively. “Just leave. Forget about this. I will not bother you anymore.”

Dimwitted, emo-loving freak, your logic begins a rant to get you from doing exactly what you end up with anyways. A few steps back, while cussing yourself to Antarctica and back, brings the reflection of the god’s face back in view. Pale and hard. A hand nimbly swipes a wet shimmer away before it reaches the sharp jaw. Don’t fucking do it. It’s a trap. He’s a trickster. A liar. The sharp sting from the teeth sinking into your lower lip shuts up the inner monologue for a moment, allowing you to breathe deeply and way the risks.

All that I've been taught And every word I've got Is foreign to me

“You’d never given me a reason to actually…fear you…despite your majorly creepy stunts of breaking in to my place and shit…” The exhale comes as a puff, that stirs the fine particles dancing in the air between the open door and you. “The rules of our…game...thing…they were never clear, but you…you…uhm…” Struggling to put the chaotic thoughts into words, you know that you’re trying to convince yourself more than him and you hate yourself for it. “You’d not done anything I didn’t want be-before I accused you of wanting to…y’know…and you hadn’t even hinted that that was something…”

Loki has gone completely still, barely even breathing as he listens to the mumbled mess, but you’re at a loss at what you actually want to accomplish. Comfort him? He’d hurt you physically. Scared you. But if anyone had said something similar to you, wouldn’t you have lost your temper? Difference is, of course, that you don’t have the strength to literally knock someone through a wall.

“Gimme one good reason to trust y’again.” The harshness you’d tried to summon is inaudible, reducing your order to a plea.

“Not that.”

Staying quiet, you absentmindedly try to rub some warmth into your arms as you wait for the man to quit being stubborn. It’s going to be a long wait, but now that the door’s open you aren’t in as bad a rush as before.

“There’s an item which I greatly desire, but it’s of dire importance tha–“

“You can take the item and shove it unless you don’t answer my question,” your voice cracks like a whip, silencing Loki quite efficiently and you notice how the god’s body tenses.

A rustle accompanies the stubborn, no, haughty answer. “I told those who need to know about…the background for New York.”

“Then there’s no more to talk about.”

You’re in the hallway, when he calls out for you, broken and beaten by his own demons. I should continue. Already, your feet are rooted on the polished wood. I should leave. Soft footsteps are drawing near, urging you to run rather than turn to face the man the way you actually do, watching his cautionary movements and the tremble of his hands, feeling the cold roll over you once more. This is a trick. Eyes meet and you have no doubt that the pain he’s exhibiting is real.

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a soft murmur, spoken into his raven hair as you awkwardly pat his back.

It takes a minute or two before he straightens up, freeing you shoulder from the weight of his chilly head but taking your hands instead to tug you gently with him back into the room.

The door closes softly behind you, no click of the lock this time at least, as Loki silently offers the bed as a seat for you. You accept hesitantly, afraid of how long or short a time is left before the trap’s sprung. A trap you’ve walked into freely this time. Thankfully, he leans against the wall by the bathroom door with his head hung low as you fidget with the hem of the purple silk, trying to find some way to soothe your nerves. Can I take the cover? The air’s freezing.

“If you ever tell anyone about this…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t have to, really, mostly because even in your world there are some things that are sacred. He’s not the only one with a code. And then he begins talking about event long passed, about wrongs he had done of his own free will where not even the despair he’d felt was an excuse and no promises from neither him nor his family could right the many wrongs that had been committed. It had let to his fall. Literally and figuratively.

Then the tale takes a turn for the worse. To a darkness where words fail along with the god’s human appearance. As Loki talks about torture and pain beyond any you’ve experienced, his real form breaks free as if trying to protect him from the memories. Red eyes blur and burn in stark contrast to the ice that form around him, creeping towards you. And still you inch closer to him, to hear the words that are whispered hoarsely and to tentatively extend a quivering hand, placing it on his dark-clawed fingers.  Squeezing as he whispers the name of a Titan.

Screaming the name Of a foreigner's God The purest expression of grief

“I don’t want your pity,” he growls, trying to shake off the hand.

I know. “Good. ‘Cause you’re not getting it.” You manage to contain the sigh. “You’re still a fucking lunatic, but at least I know why…I can work with this…”

“You can…?” Eyes like blood scorch your skin.

Yeah, it’s not smart of me, though. “Gonna clear up some things if it’s gonna work…and you’ve got a shitload of sucking up ‘fore I forgive you for bashing me ‘cross the room.”

The reaction’s immediate, perfect proof that you’ve chosen the wrong words. A low frequency makes the air hum, and the face folds into that of a predator that’s both hungry and amused because it knows where to find the next meal without putting any real effort into it. Catching your wrist before you can pull your hand back, so you tug hard, pulling Loki’s on his knees before you as you scuttle back along the wide bed. Raven hair partially obscuring the smirk curling his lips, falling away grant a view of the shoulder blades oscillating under the thin, white shirt that’s stretching tight over the wider-than-normal body.

“How convenient.” The lip that darts out have an effect on more than just Loki’s lips. “I’ll do more than just…suck…up.”

Pressed up against the headboard, your only escape would be off the other side of the bed, but of course you don’t go for it because you’re a fool with no backbone to resist the silver-tongued god even now. That’s why you let him grab your ankles and pull you slowly to the edge of the bed, kissing each inch of skin as it gets within reach all the while he bunches up the thin fabric of your dress until his lips ghost across the very top of your inner thigh. A cold nose brush the soft lace as he switches attention from one side to the other, almost distracting you from the fingers that are wandering past your hips and across the expanse of you belly, straining the fabric and setting off shivers that have nothing to do with the cold of the room.

There’s a warm shimmer, a sign that you know very well already, exposing more of your body and granting Loki a chance to slither the exploring hand further until it skims the valley between the breasts to trace the delicate lace that does absolutely nothing to hide the perking nipples. Teasing and pinching them through the bra ads a lovely contrast to the feathery kisses and licks below the waist until you’re breathing raggedly, chasing Loki’s mouth with your still covered cunt.

Wide strokes of blue palms towards your hips send new waves of anticipation rushing along, and you can feel how slick your core is becoming even though the god hasn’t even touched you there. The moment his fingers hook on the panties, you can’t help but hold your breath. Glancing down between your legs to see delight warming the features decorated with lines…lines that you know from experience are practically everywhere on his body. But the green eyes are trained on the reveal happening before him as, inch by inch, your pussy’s bared.

“So beautiful.”  The words are carried on cold breath but hold more warmth and adoration than anyone else has ever shown for your body. “Perfect…and eager.”

You know somehow that you moan the moment his mouth finds your folds and begins to tease, driving you to writhing and whimpering to the precipice of release all while Loki’s kneeling on the floor between your feet. Each moan from your lips makes him hum with pleasure, sending vibrations into your core in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Every gasp and panting breath from your lungs causes him to suck greedily at your clit.

Somewhere in the process, you realize as Loki spreads your legs further, he’s removed your panties completely, but a particular strong lick that curls his tip of his tongue inside you chases any coherent thoughts away. Then you feel his fingers pushing and wiggling against the fluttering walls of your pussy, finding the g-spot and running over it again and again in slow pumps matching the pace of his lips. Teeth nibbling and tugging in a masterful feat of balance between pleasure and pain.

“Let me hear you…then I’ll let you cum.” Even when talking, Loki doesn’t let up but applies a thumb deftly to your clit. “Say my name.”

In the foggy storm of you mind, the words annoy you. That wasn’t the deal. It’s a struggle to get as far as to rest on your elbows because each movement requires coordinated use of your muscles that are trembling due to Loki’s ministrations. Finally in place, you catch his hooded, red eyes.

“N-no-o.” Your answer makes him slow down, but not stop. “You’ve no…right…to demand anything.”

You’re gasping for breath and in no condition to assert any imagined power, but pure stubbornness fuels you even as the man arches an eyebrow at you in disbelief. Lazy circles around the nerve bundle keeps you on edge, fingers slide effortlessly through the tight wetness in a way that sweep your g-spot gently.

“My dear, I believe you’re right…I did give my word.”

The low growl should have been warning enough in it’s own, but you’re too tightly wrapped in the ecstasy his adept handling has you stewing in to notice how his arms wrap around your thighs. All you know is that the world seems to shift around you sending you off the edge of the bed and impaling you swiftly around the ridged cock. All air leaves you in a warbled moan as the sudden intrusion topples you over the edge, back arching so you shoulders rest on the mattress, holding you partially in place like a safety in case your grip on Loki’s shoulders should fail. Even then, he’s got your hips in a bruising grip, lifting and lowering you effortlessly at a reckless pace without any risk of you slipping away.

Your core is spasming, sending thundering waves of heat each time the icy shaft bottoms out, ridges passing the sensitive spot each time. Sharp keens spur the god to rut into you wilder, practically shoving you back onto the bed as he leans over you to taste your skin. Lavish kisses and love bites soak up the pearls of sweat and he sucks greedily at your neck, you breasts, your mouth. The two of you share breaths through the superficial pantings, causing you to slowly black out from the mix of restricted air and the continuous orgasm burning through your body.

A cold thumb presses against your clit, rubbing tiny circles simultaneously bringing you even higher than you thought possible as Loki succumbs to bliss, your name woven into the shameless moan fanning your throat an instant before his leaves your lips as a ragged, breathy scream.

Screaming the name Of a foreigner's God …

Wrapped in Loki’s (now pale) arms, your thought are barely coherent enough to wonder if it’s a good idea to linger. He’s taken care of you gently and sweeter than you thought possible from someone like him.

Who am I kidding…there’s no one like him!

Those are your last thoughts as sleep claims you.

[iamwhelmed]

Homesick: Chapter 1

I wasn’t originally gonna post this here, but eh. I post everything else here, may as well post this too This one is only going to be 3 chapters, nothing that demand my attention the way WOHT does. This is a writing exercise pretty much, just a fun one!

Summary: Raven finds herself carrying Beast Boy's child and struggles with the fear of losing him and the impending responsibility of being a mother; Starfire finds Robin in a precarious position with another woman. The two leave the tower to live on their own for awhile, just to figure things out. Beast Boy and Robin may be losing their minds, and Cyborg tries to keep everyone together.

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The nausea was twisting on her, like a fist in her stomach that rumbled and hissed and seethed every time she moved- not that she was doing a whole lot of that from her seat on the bathroom floor. She wasn't sure if this bout of nausea was the sheer force of terror washing over her spine in a shroud of blinding panic, or if it was a symptom…

She was, after all, pregnant. The stick in her hand, pink and cheery with a positive sign despite her ever-frantic mind stirring, said as such. She couldn't find it in her to muster up a glare at the + and the way it mocked her, not when her body was trembling and it was taking every ounce of control she had to not bust open every light fixture in the entire tower. Cyborg would flip majorly, lose his circuits, and attention was the last thing she wanted to call to herself right now.

She dropped the stick limply into the can beside the toilet, raising one hand to rub soothing circles into her temple as the other braced her body against the cold rims of the porcelain throne, keeping her steady in case her body began heaving uncontrollably.

She'd known, if she was honest; she'd known the first morning several weeks ago when she'd shot up out of her warm bed after a late night of reading to go upchuck. She'd kept herself calm, mediated on it, went down a list of reasons why she wouldn't-- couldn't-- be with child.

Or maybe it was just denial.

She groaned, lips curling into a grimace as she dragged her nails across the toilet's edge. How far along was she? She wasn't sure. Somebody else may have been able to pinpoint the exact… intimate moment… that placed a budding life inside of her. She, unfortunately, could not. Beast Boy, for all his bark over the ladies, turned out to actually have some bite to back it up.

A lot of bite, actually, and he bit often. Which was why she was here now, clutching onto what little was left of the herbal tea she'd tried to calm herself to sleep with earlier that morning. It was still hardly 5 am, early enough the sun was still hours away from making its grand entrance, which meant she had hours to figure out what exactly she was going to do before Robin inevitably woke up and demanded to know why exactly she looked distinctly paler than usual.

"Think, Raven, think!" Talking to herself helped calm her nerves, if only by a fraction, but her stomach churned with every syllable in protest. All right, facts:

1. She was pregnant, pregnant with Beast Boy's child; specifics were important, she could hear Robin's encouraging voice reminding her.

2. Beast Boy, the guy who still tried to convince others to call him "Beast Man", the guy who still regularly pulled pranks on his fellow titans, the guy who was still full of hope and enthusiasm and youthful passion… he was not ready to be a father.

3. Quite frankly, she wasn't sure she was ready to be a mother.

She took three deep breaths, trying to settle the urge to throw up the rest of her herbal tea, and perhaps preemptively empty her stomach of anything else she may decide to stuff it with the rest of the day.

4. There was no hiding this from the rest of the titans, especially not Robin and Beast Boy. Robin was the protegee of one of the most legendary detectives to walk the earth, and a leader who was defined by his dedication to his team and his friends-- his family. And Beast Boy?

Oh, Beast Boy knew her too well. He knew every nook and cranny of her soul, but perhaps more importantly, he knew her body. The first few times they'd… spent the night together… he'd spent hours afterward watching her sleep, taking in her shape, her tone, her skin, all of which would be affected by the impending life burrowed deep inside of her. She'd loved his attentiveness, loved waking up in the morning to his body woven protectively around hers like a second blanket. He'd always been gentle with her, understanding, and she'd acted in kind as they got to know each other on a more physical level, show each other just how much they loved having that special permission to touch each other, press kisses in places nobody else could, see and touch places nobody else could.

She could hide it for a month, maybe, but the moment she started showing, he'd know something was off, and that was if his impeccable sense of smell didn't give her away beforehand. Raven cursed, wondering what he would say, or maybe how wide and petrified his eyes would get before he inevitably either freaked out, or swallowed his fears and did "the right thing", only for the pressure to be too much for him to bare.

But what other choice did she have? She couldn't very well hole herself up in her room and wait for their child to come tumbling out of her in the middle of her bedroom floor, not that she would get as far as three weeks before Starfire and Cyborg and Beast Boy set up alternating camps outside her bedroom, waiting for a chance to talk to her because something was clearly very wrong.

No, she had to hide somewhere else, just until she figured all of this out. She'd leave a note, let her friends know she was fine, that she would eventually come home to them. But her home was starting to feel like a nightmare she'd accidentally conjured for herself. She didn't have to hide the entire pregnancy, right? No, she would go away for a little while and return with a clearer mind. That way, she could face her team. Face Beast Boy…

Her legs trembled under her full weight as she stood up. With a hiss, she braced herself against the bathroom counter. "Azarath… Metrion… Zin-"

There was a knock at the door, light, but present. Her body seized up, and behind her she could hear what distinctly sounded like the shower curtain ripping from the wall, edges squeaking against the tile of the shower walls as it clamored loudly to the floor, making her wince every bit of the way. Great job not drawing attention to yourself, Raven. She swallowed, hard. "Y-Yes?" She hated the way her throat choked her words into weak stuttering.

"Friend Raven," Starfire, then. Great. Then again, not the worst possible person, she mused. "I heard the throwing up, and I wanted to be sure that you were-"

"I'm okay, Starfire." She took small puffs of air through her nose, keeping her body and her voice even. "Probably just ate something a little past the expiration date is all…"

"But you are unwell, yes?"

Extremely. "I'll be fine, Starfire--" Her stomach lurched, and before she could curse the inopportune moment, she was heaving into the toilet again. The last of her herbal tea lurched from her mouth like a stream into the toilet's still warm embrace, and yet the little infant yet to grow so much as eyes was forcing her to further expunge her stomach. Bile mixed with water filled the toilet soon after, left her throat burning as she wiped haphazardly at her mouth with the back of her wrist. Not even a month old and her little one had a knack for inconveniencing her at the worst moments. She glared sardonically down at her stomach, still flat for the time being, and soothed very little by the hand that'd taken to rubbing circles into it.

The bathroom door opened, though she definitely remembered locking it. She turned her head to the side, just a fraction, just enough to see Starfire literally doing the most silent job she'd ever done of literally tearing a door off its hinges. The metal creased under the force of her hands, but she very delicately pulled the door to the side and off the wall, slowly so as to not make a ruckus. She placed it on the wall beside the door's threshold.

Her stomach lurched again, and she hurriedly burrowed her head into the toilet in preparation for the toxic sensation of heaving whatever else she had left to vomit. Come on, give me a break! If this was in any way an indication of what this little one's sleeping habits would be like, she was going to need help. A lot of it. She grinded her teeth as another wave of nausea hit her, and she heaved over the toilet, feeling her chest strain with every feeble attempt she made at throwing up. Warm fingers rested at her back, rubbing up and down in slow, settling paces. Her stomach immediately seemed to relax, the queasiness that'd enveloped her since four this morning melting away. She stayed hunched over the toilet, though, just in case. Starfire never ceased in her ministrations, pausing only to move a lock of hair out of her face, which she was only realizing now was paved with a thick coat of sweat. She'd seen the box on the counter, she was sure of it. There was no use hiding.

"Raven…"

"He can't know, Star."

"I do not understand. You wish to hide such a joyous occasion from Friend Beast Boy?"

"It won't be so joyous in nine months when he's got no clue how to be a father."

"I do believe Beast Boy has been good with children in the past?"

Raven pulled away from the toilet, and Starfire was on her in a second, gentle hands helping her to rest against the bathroom counter. She gave Starfire the best smile she could muster in her state, not much considering forcing a smile was difficult even when her insides weren't struggling to accommodate a second body. Starfire smile back though, getting the message regardless. There was no need to thank her, she was merely doing what a friend ought to do. "No, Star, he's good at entertaining kids. Raising them is…" Different. A responsibility-- not just to their child, but to her.

Maybe that was the issue.

Starfire frowned, then moved away from the toilet to sit next to her on the tile floor, up against the counter. She pressed her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, as though she was the one with a small bump to hide. "What are you going to do?"

Raven sighed, closing her eyes, hoping that the quiet she found now would give her room to think, maybe come up with a different solution, but nothing came. "I have to leave, Star."

"But--!"

"Not forever, and not for long." She glanced to her side to see the look of panic on Starfire's face fade to apprehension. "Just long enough to think. Decide what I'm doing to do."

Starfire's fingers twisted around each other, the way they did when she was stumbling over her thoughts. Raven could feel the trepidation coming off her in waves. She raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to tell her exactly what was on her mind. The tense line that had been on Starfire's face dissolved to a frown as she glanced from the floor to Raven's face. "And what if… you do not decide to come back?"

Part of her heart, squeezed and dry from all the worrying she'd done earlier, thawed at the love she felt in Starfire, like the very edges of a warm fire on a cold winter night. Of course Starfire was going to fear her departure, caring was what Starfire did best. "Starfire, I will come back. I have to eventually, even if that means I have to be away for a few years-"

"Years! But will Friend Beast Boy not be upset to miss such a period of time in his child's life?"

Raven's heart clenched again. "I.. I don't know. It's certainly not in my plan to be away that long, but if I give him a few more years to--" To what? Mature? Did she really want that? True, he was obnoxious, and sometimes he could be disgusting (Stankball, check and point), but his boyishness kept him warm, kept him bright and welcoming and, Azar help her, charming. Her worst fear was that he would lose that charm, lose his smile. She loved him, loved him more than her powers let her indulge in sometimes. To ask that he change because of a child he didn't even know about…

No, she didn't want him to change. That wasn't the issue.

"Raven?"

"I-I can't." She hated the way her voice broke. "I can't ask him to take on this responsibility, Star. As it is sometimes I think I'm too much. A child would just mean…" Death for the relationship. Turmoil for her.

There was a warm hand on her shoulder, and it squeezed gently, affirmingly. "I think it would be best if you spoke to Robin first. He is our leader for a reason, yes?"

Raven closed her eyes again, smiled to herself. Of course, Robin would be able to handle this, help her think things through. He was a rock in that way, understood her in a way nobody else could (aside from him but she couldn't talk to him about this, not yet). He would be there for her, just as Starfire was here for her now. Why had she been so scared of him knowing before? She smiled at Starfire, and it was weak, she was weak, but it was enough. She nodded.

The walk to Robin's room was slow, tedious, but Starfire's presence alone seemed to quell the urge her stomach had to make a mess of her intestines. She placed one pale, trembling hand where the baby sat-- would sit-- and took a deep breath. Starfire placed her fist on his door and knocked a few times, gently. The hour was still early, a quarter to six, and the sun was still not due to rise for another hour at least. Robin wouldn't be up for some time usually, but this was important. "Robin, I am sorry to disturb your sleep, but Friend Raven and I need to speak to you. It is of utmost importance!" There was no response, not even a shift in sound on the other side of the door. Raven glanced to Starfire, who was walking a thin line between frowning and pouting.

"Starfire, it can wait for another hour." She turned around to leave, but Starfire gripped the length of her hood and yanked her right back, causing Raven to sharply take in the air she'd been denied in that one moment.

"No it cannot." She typed in a number on the keypad to Robin's room, face set in a thin line of determination. Raven found herself squirming, ready to hightail it back to her room. The sliding door to Robin's room opened, and Starfire seemed to freeze. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, and Raven could feel it the way one could smell a fruit turning. The air became thick with emotion, emotion Raven rarely felt in the tower, and only felt it in strangling strength once. When she did feel it on the regular, it was in such a small dose that it was as easy to look over as it was to roll her eyes, spawned usually from a round between Beast Boy and Cyborg where one swore up and down the other cheated. But this? This clouded her mind, took her heart and clawed at the already-worn muscle. Starfire stood stock-still at the door, eyes wide with an emotion Raven took a moment to recognize.

Betrayal.

She said nothing, just approached Star's side and glanced into the room.

Robin laid asleep, peaceful, one of the rare moments he ever let himself rest, become unaware and at ease for a moment's time. But Raven could sense, amid the terror that was slowly easing into Starfire, the new level of relief that seemed to consume Robin as he slept. She had a feeling it had something to do with the woman fast asleep beside him, wrapped around him in a tangle of blankets and-- surprisingly drapeless-- limbs. Both were dressed, of course, Robin never took off his mask and his uniform rarely came off, but the woman was in a state of considerably less dress, clad only in what appeared to be a thin pair of underwear and what must have been one of Robin's old training shirts. Both were fast asleep, dead to the world aside from each other, moving only to get closer together at the gust of wind his open door allowed.

Raven would have been in a state of shock herself, had she not been so emotionally drained from the last two hours. She turned to look at Starfire, who had begun quivering, the wheels of her mind processing the site before her with such a painful progression that Raven could see her heart breaking with every second that passed. Quickly, she grabbed Starfire and pulled her out of the doorway, leaving the door to Robin's room, and Robin's questionable state, to close. "Starfire…"

"No. He would never…"

Raven sighed, knowing very well what Starfire was feeling, and she didn't even need to use the powers granted to an empath. It was obvious what had transpired, if not because of the lack of pants on the woman in his arms, but because of the peace she'd picked up on, peace that, in her experience, only transpired after somebody got their rocks off. Starfire was a trusting soul, but with this came a naivety that rarely reared its ugly head. She would process the truth in time, given some space, and that is why she was talking before she even knew what she was about to say. "You know, I could probably use some company while I'm away."

Starfire turned her startled eyes, full of tears and disbelief, on her. Raven sighed and massaged her stomach with her hand again, feeling her stomach churn under the new emotional weight that'd suddenly commanded the halls. "I'm not sure if it's the baby or my powers, but I think dealing with this alone has made things a million times worse. I'm leaving, Star." But I want you to come with me. It wasn't a lie; the aching dullness of her stomach seemed to fade once she had a confidant. And the stress of dealing with pregnancy alone had subsided once Starfire's warm hand had shifted up and down her back, like a veil lifted from her head. Company was exactly what she needed. Starfire blinked a few times, owlishly staring off into space, tears that had welled cascading in trails down her cheeks to her chin. It took her a few moments, but she nodded. Raven sighed and turned away, high-tailing it in the direction of her room. "Go pack. We only have an hour before Prince Charming wakes up."

[silversablinovaallday]

A Slice Of Pizza

Description: After the events of the Spider-man ps4 game and it's DLC's Silver Sablinova actually decides to take Peter up on his offer to get pizza. 

Read it on A03 Here

Hammerhead was finally down. With all the flames and sparks licking at his metal body, it was hard to be sure that he was really gone; but after a few long moments of locked servos and unseeing eyes remaining motionless, they knew they had accomplished their goal. It was almost sad to see the lump of robotic parts, hunched over themselves in an ocean of fire, while the barely visible, still flesh covered face was charred by the inferno. He had a rule against killing, but this time it may have been the only way. Hammerhead was too strong and if allowed to come back, would; no doubt, be near impossible to beat.

Attempting to use that fact to block out the terrible feeling of watching a man die at the hands of his partner; or rather, her jet, he instead used his regular wit to defuse the situation. “Huh, that was fun,” he beamed, turning to look at Sablinova. “Hey, do you have dinner plans? I know this great pizza place.”

She seemed taken aback by the invitation, standing still, thinking about it for longer than Peter would have expected. She hadn’t said yes but she hadn’t said no either. After the longest minute of his life, she sighed. “I cannot. I must return to my home country.”

“Oh, right. I know you’ve got a war but can’t you spare ten minutes? Send your men back and get some good food. You deserve it, you know? After everything.”

She began walking towards one of the jets left untouched in the hangar after the battle. The cockpit door lifted open as she got closer but she stopped before hopìng in. Not turning around fully, only tilting her head slightly towards him she calmly asked, “how close is this pizza place.?”

Peter perked up significantly. “Oh, it's super close! Especially for your jet! It's the best! You’ll love it!” He ran over, jumping in the pilot's seat before she could. “I’ll drive. Fly. I’ll fly!”

“You absolutely will not,” she protested.

“I’m already in here. What are you going to-” She lifted him right off the seat by the collar of his suit before he could even finish asking his question. “Oh, I guess that's what you'll do.”

“You are much lighter than I thought you’d be. I am concerned about how you deal so much damage in combat.”

“Well placed hits more than anything. Can you put me down now? This is kind of embarrassing.” She gave him a half-hearted smile that he had never seen before just as she threw him off the jet and back to the cold, hard, metal floor of the hangar. He recovered quickly, jumping back onto his feet with little effort. “Thanks, that was really uncomfortable. Come on let’s go! My treat! But we should keep out of the public eye so I’ll have them deliver to a rooftop. I’ll call, you fly.”

She rolled her eyes, jumping down into the cockpit. “Input the coordinates in the terminal. Then hop on and we can go.”

Peter did as he was told, already getting Eddie on the phone to order to the usual location. It only occurred to him as Sablinova took off, that he had no idea what type of pizza she would like. “Hey Eddie,” he yelled over the roar of the engine as it pushed off of the ground. “It’s me, Spidey! I’d like to order my usual and like two or three other pizzas. I’m with a friend and I don’t know what she likes so can you make a couple different ones. Like a cheese, veggie and maybe a meat lovers? That covers all the bases right?”

“Sure Spidey! Anything for you and you’re in luck; we’re not busy over here tonight so it’ll probably be really quick. Ten, maybe twenty minutes.”

“Thanks, Eddie! See ya then!”

He hung up just as the jet set down on the all-too-familiar rooftop. Peter walked along the wing waiting for Sablinova. Through the glass, he could see her fidgeting expertly with the controls. Suddenly, he was very thankful she didn’t allow him to take the controls. He may be a scientist with a degree in chemical engineering, but that didn’t mean he knew how an advanced fighter jet worked; or how he could go about figuring it out.

“We got some time to kill before the delivery. Want to play a game,” he asked when the door opened.

“How old are you,” she asked sarcastically.

“Old enough to drink, not old enough to like it; know what I mean?”

“No.”

“Alright well I’m older than 21,” he laughed.

“I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed at him in a slightly more playful tone than usual. It was still forceful and direct but had a hint of humour in the tone. “I’ve done some research on you. You’ve been in the news for eight years.”

“Yeah? So,” he asked, extending his hand to help her step down from the jet and onto the rooftop.

She neglected it of course; leaving him hanging as she jumped down on her own. “Why then? Why did you suddenly appear then?”

Peter sighed and took a seat on the wing of the jet, leaving his legs dangling over the edge; watching as Sablinova paced with her arms crossed in front of him. She was waiting for an answer and; knowing her, would not let it go until he answered. “It’s when I got my powers. I wasn’t born with them, it just kind of happened one day. Long story.”

“How did you do it?”

“Now that’s classified. Forgive me but I’m not exactly planning on giving my secret of superpowers to anyone; especially violent mercenaries who have tried to kill me. And a few times at that. Besides,” he continued; his voice getting a little cheerier. “You can't anyway. The spider is dead and it's a complete fluke that it didn't kill me in the first place.”

“How old?”

“Fifteen when I started.”

She stared blankly at him for a moment with almost a hint of concern in her eyes. “You are a child. Twenty-three is far too young to be involving yourself with such dangers; spider powers or not.”

“You couldn't have done it without me.”

“We could and would have.”

“Yet I did all the work while you chased me like I was the criminal.”

“You were are a criminal.”

They reached a standstill. Conversation stalled, filling their air with the noises of the city once more. It was awkward and unnerving.

Her gaze never broke, and even through his mask, he felt as though she could see right through him. Perhaps she could. In all of a second, he realized just how oblivious he had been. He changed into and out of costume in alleyways and rooftops all in the time and her men were on surveillance duty. Perhaps one had managed to find him in one of these inopportune and compromising moments. Oh god, Peter thought. What if she’s seen my Spiderman briefs?

Peter tried to shake the thought and blurted out the first thing he thought of. “I feel like there's a ‘but’ coming. I was a criminal; but…”

She took her time responding. “But,” she continued. “I am thankful for your help in the end. You kept my client alive and I do believe you were the one who put my rogue outpost in their place during the devil's breath incident, and that; I have to thank you for.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Peter chuckled softly. “Oh, our pizza’s here. I can hear Eddie climbing the stairs.”

He jumped down from the wing and ran to the side of the building where the short but ever cheerful pizza shop owner was trying desperately to navigate the bulky pizza boxes through the narrow fire escape. Without a moment's hesitation, Peter lept from the building's edge, easily catching the railing on the balcony Eddie was standing on. “Hey, Eddie! How you been?”

“Better since you’ve given my place a shoutout. Thank’s for that Spiderman. Here’s your pizza.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Anything for you.”

“No, no. I can’t do that. This is four pizzas.”

“How about a picture of you eating it then for the company website?”

“You got it, Eddie. I’ll send it your way later tonight.”

“Thanks, Spidey. Enjoy your pizza date,” Eddie laughed pleasantly while handing over the pizzas and beginning his climb back down to the alleyway below.

“Ding, ding! Soups on,” Peter shouted as his head popped over the ledge. “I got a bunch because I didn’t know what you liked and I thought you’d kill me if I interrupted you when you were flying. So we got cheese,” he tossed the box like a frisbee at her; which she caught easily. “A meat lovers,” again tossed lazily to her. “Veggie,” another one on the pile. “And double pepperoni but that's mine so I’ll keep that.”

“You are not keeping the best to yourself.”

“And; let me guess, you'll fight me for it?”

She smirked at him, “you are learning. Very good.”

He laughed and passed the final box to her; topping off the pile like it were a layered cake. “Care to join me on the edge?” He lightly patted the railing beside him as he took a seat. “Second best view of the city from here.”

Sablinova took his suggestion and sat down on the railing; having to keep most of her focus on staying centred on the slim metal bar. He; of course, didn’t have to worry about that. He stuck firmly to any surface and didn’t need to worry about falling to the cold pavement below. Because of this, he seemed to be in better spirits than her; folding his mask up just above his nose, exposing most of his face making it easy to shove nearly the entire slice of pizza into his mouth without hassle.

She was shocked. Not surprised that he would do this: he had to eat somehow, but amazed that he would show her this with no hesitation. He was far more open and exposed like this. Was it possible that he trusted her that much?

For the first time, she could see the smile that she could only have imagined before; only it was nothing like what she imagined. It was much more full and sweet; curving lopsidedly whenever it wasn't being stuffed with greasy, cheesy, bread piled high with pepperoni. It was warming and comforting; reminding her that there was; in fact, a person behind that mask. Someone who had a life outside of being a vigilante. A man who had hopes, ambitions, family. For a moment she regretted all of the things she had done. How her men had hunted him. How she had given the command to bring him down no matter the cost.

A quick memory of her home country and how the money from Osborne would aid her cause reminded her that she had no choice but to follow orders and her feelings were mutual again.

Trying to break the silence; and hopefully, her unblinking stare, he took out his personal cell phone rather than his suits built in phone and snapped a selfie. “For Eddie,” he clarified as if she was confused. “Want to get in on a pic? I won’t send that one to him though.”

She was still mesmerized by the half-masked face. “Why take it then? If you aren't going to do anything with it?”

“Oh, I will! It’s gonna be my new phone background. Proof that you like me now.”

“I don't like you.”

“Oh really?” he smirked, raising his arm to take the picture. “Come on, smile! Turn that frown upside down.” She didn’t, so he raised his opposite, grease-soaked hand to lightly grip either side of her cheeks and pushed them into a chubby-cheeked smile. “There!” He snapped the picture before she could swat his hand away, violently grabbing his wrist in a death grip.

“Do not touch me like that again!” There was a new-found softness in her voice; matched with the residual smile that stayed after his fingers were removed.

“Lesson learned! My bad,” he laughed. “But I did get the picture.”

The phone was pushed closer to her and to her surprise, it depicted not her with a forced smile, but instead; the aftermath of his childish antics. She was smiling of her own free will, and so was he. Their hands a blur as she swatted him away. It looked almost friendly.

“That's definitely one for the scrapbook. At least it would be if I still had it. But that's fine; phone background it is. Do you like it?”

“I do,” she answered honestly; a soft smile creeping back on her lips. “You are a remarkable man, Spider. Something else entirely. How do you do it?”

“Do what? I already told you I'm not going to explain my powers.”

She took a slice of pizza and ate it while her eyes traced the skyline. “No. Not that. How do you manage your life? You must have a job, family, friends.”

“Oh, that. Well, it was really difficult when I first got my powers. Between learning how to control them, designing my suit and web-shooters, family, school, friends. To be fair though, I only had two friends so it kind of worked out on that end. Not too much obligation. Then one… he went away for a while, and the other became my girlfriend who broke up with me not long after.

“After the Devils’ breath incident I lost the only remaining family member I had. She was a wonderful woman. I wouldn't be anything close to the man I am today, had it not been for her.

“With her estate, I was able to get an apartment; I’ve been homeless for a while you see. Couch surfing; not that I sleep that often though. Not with being Spiderman. Oh, and my job doesn't exactly help either.”

“Nothing you are saying makes it sound like you are doing well.”

Peter huffed, “yeah. Saying it out loud now makes it sound a lot worse.” He scratched his chin absentmindedly. “I’m doing alright. It just sounds bad. I just need a job that forgives me being late and absent a lot.”

“I will add you to Sable's payroll.”

He choked on his pizza; and kept choking until he slapped his back hard enough to dislodge the hunk and send it falling to the ground below. “I’m sorry what?!”

“I will add you to our payroll. In exchange, you will continue to keep New York; and more importantly, Norman Osborne safe. And report directly to me at least once a week.”

He was still recovering; breathing heavily. “Is-uh, is this just a macho way of asking me to keep in touch?”

“It’s a business proposition.”

“Well; in that case, I accept. Even if it’s just so you can talk to me more. This has been nice. I always said you guys should pay me for my work. But wait,” he paused. “Don’t you need all that you can get to fight the war?”

“It’s worth having a strong ally in the wings in case we need them. That is if you'd be willing to come to Symkaria if your help is necessary.”

“Absolutely. Actually, I'd like that. Someone I care about is a reporter and she's going there soon to do media coverage and I’d prefer to keep her safe.”

“I will keep an eye on her. Mary Jane Watson correct?”

“Y-Yeah. How’d you-”

“I had this entire city under personal surveillance. I know everything, Mr. Parker.”

He choked for a second time that night, sending another chunk of pizza to the dirty alleyway beside the other. “You know who I am?!”

“Yes. Do not worry; only I know. None of my men are aware of your true identity.”

Peter could feel the anxiety rising in his chest. “How do you know?”

“I was given; no I should not say it like that; I took the surveillance tapes of the fight with Doctor Octavius. Oscorp has some of the most advanced surveillance technology in the world. Not only did I have multiple angles of your face once you removed your mask; but I also had clear audio of him calling you ‘Peter.’ Not much digging and research lead me to the one and only Peter Parker. Orphaned as a young boy, raised by an aunt and uncle until the uncles unfortunate passing. A genius; soft-hearted by nature with an outstanding lust to help people. Friends with a reporter named Mary Jane Watson at the Daily Bugle, who just so happens to have a history of working with Spiderman. I cannot say it was entirely too difficult to piece together who you are.”

“You never said anything,” Peter sighed. “I would've thought you’d out me when you came back.”

“Personal lives should be left outside of work. Secret identities are no different. I would gain nothing from revealing who you are to the public.”

“I guess I should thank you then.” Slowly he peeled away the mask revealing the blushing babyface underneath. “It’s nice having someone I can show my real self to. It’s lonely being behind a mask all the time.”

She seemed somewhat taken aback. She already knew what his face looked like, but there was a distinct difference between the grief-stricken and injured man in the video, and the sweet grin of the child-like boy in front of her now. “I can imagine your struggle.”

“Well since you already know, I think its time for a real introduction.” He extended his hand towards her, “hi! My name is Peter. Nice to meet you.”

She rolled her eyes; taking the hand nonetheless. “You may call me Sablinova or Sable if you wish. It is good to meet you officially.”

“You too!” He shook hands over enthusiastically and with a rockhard grip that may just leave bruises. “Now may I offer you some of the cold pizza that I can't seem to get a bite of? We have four after all.”

“I would like that very much.”

They spent many long hours up on the rooftop chatting, with only a few one-sided threats thrown in for good measure. And even though she hated to admit it; she was grateful for his unwavering kindness.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Darling, I apologise for the bother but would you mind shipping me (Queen and Bo Rhap cast)? Please and thank you! Despite being a girl I dreamt of becoming Batman when I grew up but instead I got a Master's degree in Sports Journalism. I hate conflicts and try to always use diplomacy instead of arguing. I also love making jokes when feeling awkward. I value intelligence and sense of humour very much. I love daydreaming and live mainly inside my head. I hate bossy people very much. Sarcastic ^^

hellloooooo wow a MASTERS in comm/writing i respect that

i want to get my masters eventually but idk how i’ll swing it

ANYWAYS here ya are ships below the cut :*) wow theyre both kinda long SORRY

For BoRhap, I ship you with Ben Hardy!

Even though it was tempting to ship you with Joe, I think you would really get along well with Ben. Ben is definitely a bit shyer than Joe but still can hold his own even when he doesn’t necessarily need to, so I think both of you would be a great balance for each other.

Plus, Ben being a big soccer guy (sorry I’m American heh), he would love the sports journalism major a lot. Being able to talk to his girlfriend about sports? A literal wet dream.

Gwilym is a big rugby guy and an old friend of yours, so you would meet Ben through Gwilym at Gwilym’s own home. Gwilym was your go to for sports talk, and you’d made plans to watch one of the matches for the Six Nations Championship.

Ben wanted to watch too, as it was England playing Wales and he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to be at playful odds with his costar. 

Meeting Ben wasn’t as smooth and romantic as far as most meet-cutes went, but that’s probably what drew you to each other in the first place. You hadn’t known that Ben was coming over, and vice versa, so you were both dressed less than your best and met at an inopportune moment where Gwilym was in his garage, getting the beer out of the fridge.

“Honey, I’m home!” Ben called out as he let himself in, shutting the door behind him and wiping his feet on the mat. Putting his coat and scarf in the closet along with his shoes, he grabbed the beer he’d carried in and headed for the kitchen, eager to crack one open and get ready for the game. He’d came clad in sweatpants and a stained jersey, not exactly dressed to the nines.

“Gwilym? Your hit your head? Your voice got deeper,” you laughed, your voice coming from the kitchen, and Ben almost stopped in his tracks. Definitely not Gwilym’s voice, and for sure not a man’s voice - had he forgotten to tell him he had a date over?

When Ben came around the corner, clocking in at quite a few inches shorter than Gwilym, you actually looked over his head and jumped a bit when you were met by a curious, buff blonde instead of a lanky, tall Welsh man. 

Ben was equally as surprised to see a pretty girl standing in Gwilym’s kitchen, fingers covered in cream cheese as she stood over a bowl of what looked like an Asian chili sauce and cream cheese.

“Oh,” you breathed out in confusion, holding your hands as still as you stood. You were basically in pajama shorts and an equally stained shirt that had the WRU logo on it. “You’re not Gwilym.” A mild feeling of awkwardness settled over the room as you grabbed a towel and started wiping your hands off, Ben ambling over to the counter and setting the beer down.

“No, sadly I’m not,” he replied with a light chuckle, pulling one of the beers out before turning to you and holding his hand out. “I’m Ben, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Looking down at your hands, which were still smeared with cream cheese, you laughed and nodded at him. “Don’t want to get you all messy, it’s nice to meet you, Ben. I’m Y/N.”

“Pleasure’s mine. Didn’t know that Gwil was having a date over?” he asked, looking up at he heard the door to the garage open. 

You snorted at that, feeling a tiny bit more awkward as Gwilym walked in, cheering when he saw Ben and setting the beer down to give him a hug. “You’ve made it! Have you met Y/N?”

“Yes, we’ve met,” you replied for him, giving him a grin as you started to mix the sweet thai chili sauce into the cream cheese. You then directed your attention back to Ben, giving him a lighthearted grin and shaking your head. “And definitely not his date. I only use him for his kitchen.”

“Oh, shut it,” Gwilym groaned as he came over and mussed your hair, Ben chuckling at the two of you. "You’re a regular comedian, aren’t you?”

You two hit it off that night, much to Gwilym’s delight, and all of you continued to meet at Gwilym’s to watch the matches as it got closer to the championships, but Ben also started taking you out for nice meals, inviting you back to his, and generally finding any opportunity to spend time with you away from Gwil. 

And eventually, he asked you out, after principal photography of BoRhap wrapped up. You were ecstatic, of course, and accepted immediately, so the two of you decided to go out for drinks to celebrate.

“Hold still, I’m trying to get a Boomerang!” Ben whined, fiddling with his phone for a second as you raised your eyebrow.

“Ben, you’re so cute. Why would I hold still for a Boomerang? It’s literally an animation.” He tried not to smile as he rolled his eyes, pretending to ignore your teasing, when his phone started to ring. 

Huffing in frustration, he answered the call and put it on speakerphone since you two were sitting in a private booth that didn’t have too many people around. Scooting around so he was sitting by you, he finally answered. “What is it, Gwil?”

“Are you on your way? The game is about to start.”

“Oh shit,” Ben mumbled, rubbing the side of his neck as he looked at you, both of you mirroring each other’s guilty expressions. “Kind of forgot about the game, mate. Had other things on my mind, I’m currently out for dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it then. I’ll just call Y/N and see if she’s on her way yet. Cheers!”

You let Gwilym hang up the phone as Ben pursed his lips, sitting his phone on the table before giving you a curious look. “Why did you let him hang up?”

“Wait and see,” you replied coyly, grinning and making Ben raise an eyebrow. Sure enough, your phone rang with a Facetime request a few seconds later and you answered, making sure Ben was out of the frame. “Hello, Gwilly!”

Gwilym’s face took up the screen of your phone, and he looked to be sitting on his couch, wearing his WRU shirt and some dorky looking glasses. “Hey! Where are you, I thought we were going to watch the game tonight? Ben said he’s busy.”

“I know.” You grinned, glancing over at Ben before leaning your head on his shoulder and moving the phone so you were both in the frame. Ben shot him a guilty smile, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and giving your cheek a quick pinch. “We’re both sort of preoccupied.”

“You two ditched me for a date? I’m hurt,” Gwilym lamented melodramatically, clutching at his chest and letting a hurt look take over his expression. “At least tell me there’s a TV playing the game there.”

“Gwilym, you valet your car and buy wine by the bottle here. There’s no TV playing the game, sadly,” Ben replied, accompanied by a small giggle from you. “Keep us updated.”

“You’re a fake sports fan, Y/N, I’m telling your employers!” Gwilym joked, pointing his finger at the screen and making you laugh. 

“Gwil - I don’t cover Welsh rugby. And England isn’t even playing tonight,” you reminded him, and he pouted as Ben chuckled lightly, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before he started to rub it absentmindedly, just being his usual affectionate self.

“Fine, enjoy your wine,” Gwilym grumbled playfully, hanging up and leaving the two of you alone again.

When Ben moved back over to his side of the booth and gave you a warm smile, you shook your head and sent him a playfully disapproving look in return. 

“You actors, you’re such drama queens.”

And for Queen, I ship you with Brian May!

Your talents as a mediator were desperately needed for Queen from the get-go, as decided by Deacon, who’d been your friend from childhood. 

What he didn’t count on was you and Brian latching on to each other - but thankfully, even then you knew when Brian was right, and when he was just making a big stink out of nothing.

John had brought you into the studio early on, when he realized the duo of Freddie/Roger vs. Brian were a volatile mix - three remarkably sized egos, two that meshed so well together, sized up against a brainiac who couldn’t let things go? Yikes.

“Brian, I’m going to smack you silly if you don’t stop tuning that thing,” Freddie snapped as Roger snickered, Brian looking up from his guitar as you watched the three of them, quickly running through ways to diffuse the situation already. 

Freddie and Brian were harder to break apart than Roger and Brian, but you’d quickly figured out that Brian was easier to finesse if you appealed to his intelligence, which was a quality of his that you secretly admired. And Freddie was easy to deal with - all you had to do was praise his lyricism or sound, or even just bring up a part of the song you thought could use some updating. (They’re men, they aren’t hard to distract, unfortunately)

“Do you want the guitar to sound good in the song, or do you just not give a shit about this album, Fred?” Brian snapped back with an equal amount of venom, sitting his guitar to the side. Freddie rolled his eyes, pointing a finger adorned with chipped black fingernail polish towards the booth.

“We have to get something recorded today! Instead of just dilly-dallying while you make sure your precious guitar doesn’t have a fucking bellyache.”

John looked at you desperately, knowing that if he got involved there would probably only be more conflict, so you sprang into action as nonchalantly as possible, standing up to walk over and drop something in the trash can that sat between the two men, who were now both standing about 5 feet apart from each other.

Even your presence between the two of them seemed to diffuse some of the tension already, distracting both of them from each other for a second, and you chose that moment to speak.

“Freddie, I liked that part you recorded just now. That one line, the Mother Mercury one - fantastic,” you said, turning to Freddie and smiling softly at him. 

“You think so?” Freddie asked, glancing at Brian and looking sour for a moment before directing his attention to you. “That’s one of my favorite lines too. I was thinking of layering my voice there once or twice, what do you think? Thought it would give it a more melancholic, discordant sound.”

“Brilliant idea,” you agreed, nodding before looking at the booth and shrugging. “Might as well do it now, give Brian some more time.”

Looking at Brian again, Freddie narrowed his eyes before nodding and doing exactly that, going over to talk with the man at the sound board as you turned to Brian, who was sitting back down with a sigh.

“Having troubles tuning?” you asked, sitting down in the chair across from him and sending a thumbs up to Deacon, who let out a breath of relief and continued scribbling at his notebook.

“Yeah, this one’s not like Red, it’s a bit more difficult to get it right,” Brian sighed, pulling the guitar into his lap and looking over it with a pensive expression on his face. He then looked up at you, seeming almost embarrassed by how fired up he’d been a moment ago, and gave a small smile. “Sorry you had to intervene. Freddie just pushes my buttons sometimes.”

“It’s okay, Bri. Not everyone can understand what’s going on up there in that curly mop of yours.” 

That got a laugh out of him, and he shook his head, accentuating the curly mess before going back to tuning, stealing little glances at you every once in a while as you pretended not to notice, keeping your eyes on Freddie, who was trying to figure out the best way not to upset the tonality. 

And Brian continued to steal those glances at you as you came in, day after day, to listen to them record. They lingered more and more, distracting him more often, and he would say he was just tired when it would delay him from getting tuned, but it was almost as if he was purposely doing so in order to have you get involved in any tiff his delays caused. 

When their debut record was finally finished, you were sort of bummed. It was quite fun to be around the boys night after night, especially Brian, but you knew you had to continue your work at the Daily Mail covering matches, and Brian had gigs to play. 

But Brian couldn’t stay away, and when he got back from the shorter Queen tour that lasted into ‘74, he asked you out on a date, to John’s mild chagrin.

“Just promise me you won’t turn into a pseudo-intellectual bodyguard for him,” he’d begged, making you laugh at the thought. As much as you thoroughly loved Brian’s intelligence, you knew John had a point.

Brian took you to Greenwich observatory for your first date - forever the space dweeb - and you two were strolling through the museum, arm in arm, when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

Spoiler: you said yes! 

When they were working on Queen II, you had a big story coming up, so you showed up to the studio as often as possible, but your absence was noted, particularly by Freddie (and Deacon, who was having to use up all of his scalding one-liners).

“Y/N! Are you hearing this?” Freddie asked, drawing you out of your dreamlike state. You’d zoned out about a minute ago, thinking of your deadline and what you’d need to get done tomorrow. 

“No, what’s happening?” you admitted, smiling sheepishly and glancing between Freddie and Brian, who were arguing - yet again.

“Your little boyfriend here thinks that we should use three guitars at the end of this song right now.”

“Little?” Brian repeated, his face flushing as he stared at Freddie, an indignant look on his face. “Have you seen yourself, mate?”

You’d crawled up from your place on the couch, making your way over to where Brian was, and perched yourself on the armrest, pursing your lips. “Three guitars?”

“It’s too much!” Freddie sighed, throwing his hands up. “I’m all for experimenting, but it’s just going to sound like a hodge podge of guitars and I don’t think it will work.”

Resting your hands on your knees, you thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Why don’t we send Brian in there and see what he wants to do with the three guitar layers> Can’t hurt to listen, you don’t have to record either.”

Freddie scowled for a moment as he mulled over the idea, finally assenting. “Fine. But we’re not recording unless we all like it.”

“Thank you, Freddie,” Brian sighed, shaking his head before getting up from his chair, heading towards the booth. You followed him to the door, and he stopped in the doorway, turning around to face you as Freddie slumped down on the couch, taking a break.

Brian looked tired, but he still gave you a small smile as he pulled the guitar strap over his shoulder, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. “Thank you for talking to Fred. You’re a lifesaver.”

Grinning, you reached up to fix the strap of his guitar, which had flipped itself over, and Brian watched as you did so, his eyes finally tearing away from your hand to look back at you. “You owe me, big guy.”

That made him groan and roll his eyes playfully before he gave you another quick kiss on the forehead, heading into the booth. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know, lovie.”