#i wanted to paint the mountains today but my pAINT BRUSHES ARE STILL IN BOXES

[rezdragon]

I'm trying to resist the urge to work on art right now because my fucking office isn't ready yet

[hcdragonwrites]

A Mountain of Sweets

(a @journey-to-the-au fic) Tea Trouble part 1

Ok! This is a part one of two- yes I did it again I wrote something that’s a biiiiit longer then I want to subject y’all to in one post- so I had to split it. ENJOY!

Today would be glorious.

Earth Reaching Willow had to make sure everything went perfect. She had woken early, disentangling herself from her cuddle buddy of Wukong, Pear and several new babies who had begged for a story and had fallen asleep on Willows arms and in her hair. She dressed simply and made her way to the kitchen to help get a head start.

Her sisters were coming to visit.

All six sisters.

Everything had to be perfect, it would go perfect. It would go amazingly well. Willow had already started upon the tea cakes and tarts, picking the best peach jams and stuffings. Willow selected the finest green tea brand. Willow pulled the tea set gifted to her from Guanyin on her Wedding day, a spectacular peace of simple white porcelain laced and decorated in blossoms. She grabbed the finest tray and collected the sweetest teacups. When the teacakes and tarts finished she settled herself into the work going through the cold storages and ice boxes for the best fruits and seeds to fry. A plethora of moon tea cakes, of coconut cakes, and bean cakes was slowly being created. Willow roasted pine nuts, she fried small breads and cut the cold stored fruit into harmonious shapes of lotus blossoms and stars.

All seven sisters were coming to visit Flower Fruit Mountain. Stress strung her tighter then a bow for two reasons. The first of course was to impress. Her sisters would finally see how beautiful the world is here, to see how the Earth was not something to turn their nose up at. It was a paradise that consistently changed, that surprised her with every hand painted dawn and new sketched night. No two days were the same, no two phases of the moon were similar. The world was cast in shades and colors and music that Willow hoped- that she prayed - her sisters would see.

The second reason for her stress was … all six of her sisters were coming to visit.

Summer Turning Flower, her second sister and her mothers daughter. Winter Frosted Grace, with her cold confidence and calculations. Autumn Leaves Falling, who could charm a raging storm with a smile. Wind Over Sea, the swiftest and most eager to please. Weaves The Clouds, who liked to prank and tease. And Little Weaver Girl, the sweetest and youngest of the sisters.

Seven sisters of Heaven and … Willow worried for her sweet family here on the Mountain. Back when the Heavens didn’t corral the daughters in so tightly, on a summer night, they had decided to visit the earth. They had snuck out and taken their fathers best heavenly steeds- both as protection and as a mode of transport- to take a night among the mortals. It was a jaunt and play at rebellion, one Willow and Flower had been in planning for years. They had escaped the court, laughing with the abandon of children. Down to earth the seven sisters upon seven steeds had come a galloping. They had gone to the closest river, the shiniest bend of liquid night, and had slipped from garments to nothing. They had swam with abandon, laughed and splashed. The joy of that night gave Willow a beat of heart sickness. She missed those days when the sisters had laughed and schemed together.

They had been so naive then. So carefree. A taste of that joy was just in her memory, a warm brush against her senses. Like a ghost of a feeling.

“Willow?”

She turned seeing a very sleepy and very tired Wukong blinking at her. His fur was mused. His face still carrying the lines of sleep as he yawned wide and rubbed at his eyes.

“I was wondering where you had gone.” He came walking forward into the kitchen reaching for her hand. Willow stepped forward and took it. Wukongs eyes widened at the counter behind her- the red practically swallowing the polished gold of his pupils. “It is so early still, My Willow Tree.”

Willow felt a bit of her face flame. Just a little, as the Monkey King stepped up to the counter and looked at her mornings work. Wukong tugged her hand.

“Tell me you haven’t been up all night making these.” His faced begged her to counter his assumption. How else could she have accomplished so much in so short a time?

“Only since the first chime of the bell.” Willow sheepishly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, looking to the floor, to the ceiling, everywhere but her sweet friends face.

“The first chime! Willow- that was six Chimes ago!” He admonished and her husband was suddenly larger- leaning into her face and taking away her ability to duck his looks. Drat Wukong. Her friend may be uncomfortable with direct eye contact but he would quickly forget about it when it came to things of this nature. He now used his magic to make it so she could not escape his scrutiny.

“That was the turning of the night Guards! I could have had the chefs start the preparations. You did not have to wear yourself out.” Wukong gently put a finger to her chin, tilting her head up. A thumb ran beneath her eye, shadowing the dark circles that had made nests below.

“… “ Willow was caught. She had nothing to say in her defence. She had just been so nervous- so nervous and wanting to impress the impossible expectations of her sisters. Wukongs eyes softened, the gold going warm , honey melting into warm embers.

“Oh Willow what has you so worried.” He held her face in his hands gently, not caging her in but holding her so she could not deny or run from it. A simple I am here that grounded her.

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Willow sighed. She held one of his hands with her own. Wukong twined his fingers with hers, rubbing the backs with the pad of his thumb. “I want them to love Earth and see how much I love it. How beautiful it is. This whole place- everyone here- I love it so Wukong. I just …”

“Princess,” He kissed her brow, the places beneath her eyes where those shadows nestled. His smile was the soft curve of the moon at night, all soft light and kindness. “Your sisters will love it because you love it. You have nothing to worry for.”

“You say that but…”

“Willow,” he tapped her nose, tucking and tugging her into his arms, “if you wear yourself out before they have even started their decent from Heaven, I will bring Beng in here to scold you for the lack of sleep.”

His breath tickled her ear as he threatened Willow. She gave a mock gasp, looking up from her place beneath his chin.

“Not Beng! He scolds with his face.” Willow scrunched her face in the best Beng impression she had, the one the medicine monkey wore when his patients clearly ignored his advice. Wukongs face broke into laughter, a delightful waterfall of vibration along her back. “He may never say a harsh word but his face speaks enough to make my ears turn red.”

“My point exactly.” Wukong said. He grew a bit larger, setting Willows feet on his own. He started to walk her back, puppeteering her away from the kitchen in the goofiest way. “Now come on…”

“But…” Willow looked at the rice cakes, the bountiful mess and harvest of her labour. Was it enough?

“No one will touch the cakes.” Wukong promised. “No one would think to today of all days to do that. All of the mountain is abuzz and they want today to go off without a hitch.”

“I just … “ want to impress them. Want to impress you. I want there to be harmony between the love of my family in Heaven and the love of my family On Earth. “I want you to be happy with them.” She said out-loud.

Willow didn’t get to see the way the monkeys eyes went from honey to butter at her words. He melted against her, draping her in fur and twining his tail around her waist.

“Oh my Willow Tree.” He said it so softly, eliciting Willow to look up. Just in time, for Wukong had her legs out from under her and had swung her around onto his side. He was carrying her almost like the mothers did to their babes, close but with one hand on the ground. Willow curled into him, seeing the tender admonishment in her friends eyes.

“Come. Back to bed with you. The littles are all upset their Grandmother left without morning kisses and Pear is particularly beside herself.” Before she could say more, Wukong was loping away and back to their room where a barrel of littles came climbing and begging for cuddles and kisses. Wukong worried not for the snacks Willow had made. He more or less worried about the the stores she had burned through in those six chimes.

For Willow, in all her worry, had made a mountain of tarts, a landslide of teacakes, a sea of fried breads and foodstuff, that spilled and took over not one but four of the longest counters in the kitchens.

As he looked down on her, still holding him as she cuddled and cooed to the little monkeys he thought, fondly and with humour, “What am I going to do with you and your habit of baking us under a mountain of sweets?”

It was only a short time later that Ma and Ba crept into the kitchen, tempted by the smells of sweets and baking.

“Just one won’t hurt.” Ba grumbled. He wouldn’t admit it to Willow- but her food had woken him from his tangle with Chestnut and their little Lychee.

“Of course.” Ma said, stepping up to the counters with her tail excitedly flagging. She was still in the dregs of her recent release from postpartum depression. Willow had gently, for weeks, left foodstuffs and sweets outside her and Bengs hut. A kindness and a gesture Ma was so thankful for. Between Pomelo and Mulberry, she was practically spent with energy. She had also smelled the sweets being made and … couldn’t help herself.

“Willow wouldn’t mind one missing…” or two. Or ten.

Neither of the Marshals however, noticed the ice blue eyes open from a perch just above them, a cracked fracture in the wall.

“If you touch a single one of Willows cookies for those Celestials,” the cold voice of Xinshu whipped out like an adder freezing the twins in place “I will personally see your pelts pulled and turned into mud rugs.”

Xinshu fell as silent as a snow cat from her perch. Her teeth were barred in a threat. “I won’t have you two making us look foolish because you ate all of the baked goods.”

Ma and Ba, caught and cowed, scuttled away from the white simian in all her fury. If they had lingered long enough to see, to peek back in, they would have seen Xinshu look at the sweets. Like at a peach tart. And slide it into one of the pockets in her belt

[the-joker-and-the-jean]

It's not the same

He sat there on the edge, the earth breathing beneath him. 

He looked at his girl’s sun-kissed face. The orange of the sky blanketing them.

But it wasn’t the first time, just maybe for him…

It was still dark when the fragrant dews falling from her hair woke him up. “We’ll be late again!” she whispered in his ears. “We don’t want the sun to win today!” It tickled his ears turning them red just as it always used to. The only lights in the street were coming from their window and the streetlight, rest were twinkling in the sky. His eyes opened, brown and calm, squinting. But would they not open wide to scan every bit of a princess in front of him who adorned a beautiful baby blue dress? The guttery ruffles couldn’t outshine her bright cherry-red smile. The window curtains blew as the cool breeze brushed past their faces. Today, the curtains were changed to blue as well. Someone had mentioned that the ladybugs, her new obsession, love blue. 

“Hurry up! Your blue tuxedo is waiting for you in the cupboard, crisp and clean!” Her voice chimed, excited to maybe spot some ladybugs on the mountain. 

“Tuxedo! Don’t you think we’re going overboard?” It wasn’t the first time when the most beautiful girl of the town, or so Ren called her, was making him do things he would never do. Like painting their room in more than 8 different colors or wearing a Tuxedo to watch a ladybug on a mountain! Her eyebrows were drawn together the next second. “Tuxedo it is! I’ll be back before the alarm rings”, He pointed at the new red alarm clock on the side table with black alarm bells. Of course, they looked like the ladybug because apparently, Lily could only focus on ladybugs and the things that looked like it. Finally leaving the bed, his hands reach out the cupboard to find a crisp white shirt and a blue Tuxedo hanging as the only option for him. 

Saturdays were always the most bizarre in this house. Usually, Ren would be in a hurry to reach the far away university to take his lessons. But on the weekends, Ren wasn’t a professor anymore. Ren wasn’t even Ren anymore. He was what Lily would make him that day. Today, as Ren had promised, they were going to drive to the mountain they could clearly see from their window. “That’s where the ladybugs come from!” a lady had told her when she for the first time saw it on a flower. She mistook it for a bead of some kind. Now she has painted all the red beads with black paint dots. Lily has never ever loved, she only ever gets obsessed, and miraculously, Ren always knows about it and joins her.

She is sitting on the edge of the bed nervously tapping the floor with her feet when Ren comes out, his face freshly shaven. “See, there’s still a few minutes to five!” He screams victoriously. She doesn’t look pleased. And suddenly she remembers about her lost earring, “I can’t find my blue earrings!” She screams frantically and starts searching for them in the box in a wooden dresser and then under the bed. The only one is hanging in her right ear. 

He looks at her from the mirror half smiling. She looks like a bud of flowers dancing in the room, her ruffles catching the air every time she turns. She halts finally to find his gaze fixed on her, buttoning the sleeves. “We can’t go! I can’t find my earrings! It’s not here!”

“What a catastrophe! Do you have another pair?”

“It won’t match!” She stomps and folds her arms. 

“We can work this one earring; your hair can cover up for the other one!” He says proudly. Lily agrees with the idea and brings some hair in front to cover the ear. The released tension makes Lily hum a song. He catches the beat immediately, it’s the song that Lily loves and immediately she joins him. It’s their voice that gently wakes up the birds most weekends. After fixing the ring on his finger, and spraying the perfume, he turns around singing, searching for her eyes. Lily has too lost the track of time. Jumbling up the words where they don’t know the lyrics, they keep continuing to sing, and now have started to dance. His ironed sleeves meet the ruffled glitter, his brown meets the dark sweet eyes, his hands wrapped around her, almost lifting her up in the air. Squeeks fill the room when the alarm rings. It instantly reminds them of their mission. 

A blue pair of shoes have managed to hide under the long blue dress. He holds her hand and climbs down still singing the song. An old lady at the end of the handrail was waiting, tired and wrinkled, bags under her eyes. Maybe angry? 

“Good morning mum!”

“Where are you going, Ren?” 

“Oh, I am so sorry to wake you up! Lily and I are going to the cliff. She believes we will see some ladybugs under the shining sun.” 

“For how long Ren? How long?” Her voice breaks, her lower chin quivers.

“We will be back soon, I promise. Take care mom!” He kisses his mom goodbye and reaches for the knob. “Don’t worry mom! We will be okay.” He gives an assuring smile looking back and ushers out the door holding Lily’s hand. 

The city seems to go lazy on the weekends. They stand there holding hands observing the beauty of nature. On his right is a tree. A bed of dry leaves circling it. It’s the time of the morning when the dew shines on the edge of every leaf. The buds will soon bloom into flowers revealing their bright colors. There is a car parked to his left. “We will go buy coffee first!” He unlocks the cars and opens the door waiting for her. She lifts her long gown up a little to show her shoes and fixes herself in the passenger seat. 

Engine starts with a vibration and off they go passing many houses painted in pastels. The hue of the sky slowly lifting and the streetlights opening up the roads in front. They arrive at a cafe on the way. It had just opened, probably in a hurry. Many flowerpots are kept guiding the visitors to the door. At the window are some crocheted animals with lovely different colors. Lily loved them. The cafe was once a house for a couple who has been living here. Their son decided to make a cafe from the extra space near the porch. It still looks like a house from the outside, except it has big windows. 

“I'll have a boba coffee shaken with ice, a lot of whipped cream and topped with chocolate syrup, please." He tells the lady, “To go”. The lady looks at him expecting he’d be there, although Ren is pretty new to the surroundings and yet not so new. 

The cafe has many wooden tables each with a flower vase and a table number. On the shelf are some magazines and newspapers. It is too early for any visitors to be here on a weekend. Ren looks around searching for someone.

“Coffee to go for Lily.” The lady announces as she appears from the kitchen. “Looking for someone?” She senses him searching for Derek. He is the one who handles morning shifts in the cafe on the weekends. 

“Oh! Derek is not here today. He’s occupied with some work at home. It’ll be me for a couple of days.” She smiled half assuring. “I have been a barista too, so don’t worry! You’re in good hands.” She giggles. Ren tries to make sense of what the lady said but stays confused. An awkwardly silent and confused moment later Ren lifts the cold cup marked ‘Lily’ with a heart.

“No yeah, it looks good!” Ren gives an assuring smile. “Cafe has a really good vibe.” He looks around. “It does look delicious. Can’t wait.”, Lily adds. “Thanks Missy!” 

“Well, anything else?” Ren shakes his head. “Thank you for ordering and I wish you a great day!” 

The light from the cafe fades as he races to the mountain. Birds start to appear closer, flapping their huge wings as they try to race them. The stars have disappeared completely now, and the sun has started to paint its colors. They drive up the slope passing the grass and the stones and rocks along the way. 

Many trees have grown on the sloped edges of the mountains standing stronger and taller than ever. Winds waving its branches. Lily is busy monitoring continuously out the window searching for any trace of red, squinting. Her hands hanging out touching the grass. Morning dew welcoming her. It tickled her fingers and that made her smile, her cheeks turning redder with joy. Ren would often catch her glance. 

The car comes to a random halt. She turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you spot it?”

“I reckon it’ll be there.” he turns her face to show a thick trunk of a tree standing so bold. Its leaves danced in the sun, shading the ground under it. 

“It’s ethereal!” 

He opens the door and takes her by her hand; she follows him captivated by the beauty of the mountain. Her dress would often pass over pieces of tiny rocks and pebbles on the way. They notice tiny flowers blooming from the bushes. Even the white dandelions appear golden. He takes out his camera from his pocket to capture the beauty running in one of the most beautiful places on the earth. 

“I want to climb that tree!” she giggles as she runs towards it. Her gown held up for her to run. The early daylight electrifies the whole scene. Ren tries to catch up to her, but she is wearing her shoes! Her giggles run with her chasing the wind. Her hair bouncing up and down. Even in the mud she runs gracefully. Edge of her dress has some dandelions intertwined. But the sloppy soil ditches her pace. The air couldn’t catch her anymore. Her ankle twists. Ren puts the camera down and runs towards her, but she loses her balance and disappears into a landless ground. Ren’s hand hopelessly swings out to catch her, yet again, but all he sees is a delicate figure wrapped in the starry blue plummeting down. 

He roars aloud. His veins swell up. All the blue from his eyes have disappeared in the deep dark. Birds stop chirping. Winds stop blowing. No one breathes. 

“We’re stuck in this aren’t we?” 

Her voice breathes back the life in him. The only glance he’d never want to lose. As if the springs had returned, his garden had been blessed, his heart started to pump again to keep him from dying. There she was, standing in her baby blue, one earring and blooded hair. He reaches for her but somehow, he just couldn’t, though he could see her. He allows himself to breathe.

“You scared me to death, Lily!” He laughs. 

They walk towards the side of the cliff and sit side by side. Winds start blowing again. Birds start to appear in the sky. They consume the sunlight as much as they could talking about things that make her giggle and him laugh. 

“Oh, there’s a ladybug on that leaf, look at it!”

“Yeah, I see, it’s pretty! 

The sun walks along from east to west welcoming the stars. 

[jims-gaming-obsession]

Got a good start on the Bride and friends today and should be able to finish them off tomorrow (Friday) and then seal and grass ‘em over the weekend! Then I will probably bash out the two packs of bitz ‘n bobz that are still in my Pulp Figs box - the Occult Accoutrements & Significant Clues. Next I will finally get to work on the last batch of Bac Ninh minis (Chanbara/Samurai types) I got in plus some assorted martial artist figs from a couple of different makers. Slowly but surely I’m lowering the height of my lead/pewter mountain but I should still be good for the next 110 years before having to worry about running out of toys to paint.

What I do need to do is buckle down and find a venue to run some games - a common room somewhere that we could have some snacks & libations (BYOB) as well as make noise without driving nearby folks nuts. Gotta see what’s available nearby! But then I’d also have to work up some scenarios that would force me to dust off some of my long-neglected collections like my Darkest Africa figs, the Coastal Boats, ACW Ironclads, Pre-Dreadnaughts, Wing of Glory WW I Aircraft, British/German/FFL Colonials/et cetera - et cetera! Then I would need to brush up on some of our all but forgotten rules like TSATF, G.A.S.L.I.G.H.T, Schnellboot, Ironclads, Age of Iron, plus more that I have forgotten the names of - it’s been way too long!

On the DANECON side I’ve settled on running a Border Reiver game using the modified Pulp Alley rules. It will be a raid scenario/general brouhaha/GITTEM! game for a minimum of 4 and up to 7 players. Should be a fun brawl with folks stealing cattle/sheep/wives/whatever along with some settling of long-held feuds between the riding families. Bloody Border Battles - what fun!

(I was thinking of using the new Border Wars rules, but after a quick overlook, I don’t think that they would work too well for a 6 or 7 player game without really digging into them and seeing what could be modified without losing the feel of the rules. They look like a fun set, but I’d really want to play through a couple of 2 or 3 player games before trying to fiddle with them.)

That’s about it for now but I’ll be back soon - like the proverbial bad penny!

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Everything new

Summary: The house is starting to get full of unused things.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 635

a/n: This is definitely not inspired by my constant need to start a hobby, but quitting every time I’m not the best at it the first time I try it😅 hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated!

Carol steps inside the house she shares with her girlfriend of three years. It’s normal for the house to have some kind of noise going on when she comes home as she works later than Y/N, but hearing an electric guitar playing was definitely new.

She starts walking towards the noise, guessing that’s where her girlfriend will be. Carol groans when she trips over something. Looking down, she sees paints, brushes and a half done painting. Y/N brought the painting supplies three months ago, though Carol is sure she never finished even one painting. At least she didn’t get to see one. “Damn it.” Carol kicks them to the side, deciding to clean it up later.

Looking around the room as she continues walking, Carol notices all kinds of things, some she didn’t even know they owned. She makes a mental note to talk about it with Y/N, but first she needs to find her.

Opening their bedroom door, she indeed finds Y/N trying to play an electric guitar. The playing is slow, as it takes her time to reposition her fingers on the strings, and it doesn’t sound pretty. Which is understandable, but Carol would very much prefer silence over the noise. “Baby?”

Y/N’s head snaps up hearing Carol’s voice. A big smile stretches to her face. “Hi babe! You like my guitar?” She stands up and poses with the black and white instrument.

“It looks great. What happened to the keyboard?”

Y/N smiles sheepishly. “Well, it’s in the storage. I wasn’t good at playing it and then I got really excited about electric guitars and decided to try it out. I’m really liking it so far!”

“That so?” Carol can’t help but grin when Y/N nods quickly, still having that dorky smile on her lips. “What makes you think you can play that if you couldn’t play the keyboard?”

“My want to learn it.”

“You said the same thing about the keyboard, and the violin, painting, embroidery and every single other hobby you’ve started.” Carol puts her hands to her hips. “You gotta start giving stuff away when you quit them.”

“I haven’t quit them!”

Carol gives Y/N an unimpressed look. “Remember those rollerblades you got a year ago, that you used for three weeks before stuffing them to the shed? Still trying to learn to use them?”

Y/N sighs, putting the guitar to the ground. She pouts as she looks at Carol. “I was going to, today actually.”

“Today?” Carol giggles. Even though she was slightly annoyed by the mountain of stuff in their apartment, she couldn’t help but melt with love and adoration around Y/N. “No you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“How about,” Carol takes hold of Y/N’s hand and starts leading her to the living room, where most of her things were. “You decide few things you actually want to learn and donate the rest?”

“If I keep the guitar and the keyboard, can we start a band?”

“No.”

“Damn it.” Y/N whines. “We could’ve been such a great band. Y/N Y/L/N and Carol Danvers, the most iconic duo in the music industry.” She spreads her hands wide open, staring into the distance as if imagining their life as a band.

“You’re procrastinating.”

“Can you blame me? I live in the clouds.” Y/N grins widely, starting to put things into a donation box.

“I like it more when you’re here with me.” Carol hugs Y/N from behind, making her giggle. “I love you.” She whispers to her ear, holding her even tighter as she presses her forehead to her shoulder and starts pressing small kisses to it.

Y/N smiles, feeling content and safe in her lover’s arms. “I love you too, Carol.”

[peachyteabuck]

ceo chronicles. pt iii ~ wanda maximoff

series summary: a set of fics based off of the main au of sugar baby/mommy or daddy dynamics and ceo aus. each fic involves a separate universe wherein each character is the ceo of a different company and you’re their sugar baby. sexy times ensue.

fic summary: something goes very, very wrong at one of wanda’s business dealings. you are left to help her pick up the pieces - no matter what that means. 

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

words: 2398

trigger warnings: possessive wanda, anger-fucking, collars, spreader bars, riding crop, ball gags

notes/other: this was done for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor ‘s “old hollywood” writing challenge, my prompt was “Must I always wear a low cut dress to be important?” - Jean Harlow and has been bolded within the fic!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Wanda storms into the penthouse, her stiletto heels clacking against the dark, hardwood floors.

She’s angry, furious – and whether or not it’s aimed at you doesn’t matter, your heart picks up in your chest either way.

“That two-timing sun of a bitch!” she screams, throwing her purse on the ground. Her coat follows shortly.

You watch her, eyes wide in terror, as you stand in the kitchen. She bought the place for its open floor plan and, initially, you had liked it too.

Now, though, with nothing to hide behind, you regret not going with the more closed space in SoHo.

“That motherfucker undersold me,” she screams, standing in place as she yells to no one in particular. “He told me the piece was worth one point two fucking million, and it sells for less than a hundred fucking thousand!”

Oh fuck. If you weren’t scared out of your goddamn mind before you sure are now.

There are two things in this world no one should fuck with when it comes to Wanda’s possessions:

The first is you.

Once, a man accidentally brushed against you at a gallery opening and Wanda nearly bit him – throwing red wine on his white shirt and screaming at him to leave.

Once he was out of her sight, she dragged you to the nearest bathroom, leaving a deep hickey high enough on your neck that you couldn’t hide it before making you show it off to the guests for a few more hours.

The second, is her money.

It’s not that Wanda’s not charitable, far from it; she claims millions on her taxes every year.

It’s just that she’s in charge of those things. She decides who gets what and when, she controls when her Black card is used and why. When people promise to bring her a certain amount of profit, they better fucking deliver, or else…this happens.

This meaning her getting so mad she looks like she could cause wildfires. All those earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, everything – those aren’t tectonic plates, no, they’re something much more powerful.

Wanda’s anger can move mountains, make species go extinct.

And, most important by far, it can make you shake in fear.

“That fucker, I should have known when he asked that I wear some fucking,” you can hear the venom in her voice, spitting over everything as she grabs the Stoch – the nice stuff, from the lockbox deep in the cupboard. She throws the bags of junk food – the chips you like and the cookies she loves – across the kitchen before stabbing in the code with her perfectly manicured nails. She doesn’t speak until she’s had two sips straight from the container, face wincing slightly before she sets it back on the counter. “To wear some fucking slip to the meet up, as if he needed to see me in anything at all! Ugh!” she scoffs, taking another long swig. “Must I always wear a low-cut dress to be important?”

You don’t reply, staying silent and inert as what could be the scariest thing unfolds in front of you.

Out of nowhere, she stills, taking exactly three, ten-second-in and ten-second-out breaths. It’s after that that she steps over to the large navy-blue sectional, sitting on it with her feet flat on the floor.

“Get on your fucking knees,” Wanda hisses.

You drop to the floor without hesitation, petrified.

Wanda watches you intently for a moment, jaw clenching as she moves to sit on the couch, feet flat against the floor. She pats her right hand against her right knee twice, and you immediately understand what she wants.

You fall across her knees, one arm grabbing her ankle while the other folds behind your back for her to grab – each action desperate to be obedient, to try to throw a fire blanket over the ravenous, burning thing that’s overtaken her.

There’s very little warning before she’s pulled the sundress up and bunching it into your fist, giving you little warning before leaving a slap against your ass – barely covered by the flimsy cotton underwear.

She ignores you, when you cry out, ignores you when tears begin to stream from your eyes and when blood spills from your bottom lip when it gets caught between your teeth.

It isn’t until your ass feels like it’s been branded when she lets up, inadvertently giving you a moment to breathe as she clenches her fists in front of her.

“It’s not enough!” Wanda screams, pushing you onto the floor. You fall against the wood hard, making you cry out in pain as she stomps away. “It’s not enough! Why isn’t it enough!”

Through the ringing in your ears you can hear her in the bedroom, the distinct sound of a six-bolt padlock being clicked open ricocheting in your eardrums. The only thing locked with that sort of hardware is the chest Wanda keeps all your kink-related items in, separating into layers by the degree of play.

It starts light at the top; blindfolds and a few cute collars with equally cute pet names engraved onto small heart-shaped nameplates. One of them is even diamond-encrusted, PROPERTY OF WANDA spelled out in bold print across pink faux leather. You can picture them even as your brain becomes fuzzy, can see them vividly against a distinct white velvet Wanda picked out especially.

The second layer, and the third (due to the size of the collection) are dildos, vibrators, butt plugs of more sizes and varieties than you can count. You can hear her removing those two shelves hastily, tearing through the rest of the box until she gets to the last level, the one you fear the most:

They’re rarely used, only barely broken in. A spreader bar Natasha got Wanda as a gag gift about a year ago. A riding crop Wanda bought at a kink convention awhile ago on an intoxicated whim. A thick collar meant for posture made of pure, soft leather and a solid gold latch. And, lastly, a fine leather ball gag, deep and black and beautifully handmade.

All four of them stiff and mean, just like Wanda in times like these.

She calls you into the bedroom with a shout, smiling when she hears you rushing from your felled position in the living room.

You can see the last fleeting moment of it when you cross the threshold, see that her anger has an end and this is not some permanent fixture in your still-budding relationship.

“Down,” she says simply, and you drop, sitting back on your heels.

Your hands remain palms-down on your thighs with your spine straight as one of those expensive paintings that decorate so many of the walls in the place you and her call home.

It stays that way – your spine parallel to the walls – as the collar is dangled in front of your eyes before being secured around your neck.

“Too tight?” Wanda asks, emotionless.

You shake your head as she sticks two fingers, the pads pressed into the soft skin of your neck. “Good.”

The ritual is repeated for the ball gag, the toy wrapped around your head and subsequently checked for fit.

She then instructs you to get on the bed, perpendicular to her as you lay on your back. You can’t see it – but the rustling and distinct clacking sound of metal pieces moving together can tell you she’s grabbing the very toys you’re terrified of the most.

The plain white ceiling gives you something to stare at, to fixate on as you feel the soft leather cuffs tightening before being checked. It’s almost sweet – the little ritual – if it didn’t immediately lead to your imminent torture.

You can feel her stepping back, heated eyes raking up your body slowly, surely. She watches carefully as your cunt pulses under her heated gaze, watches each muscle twitch as you anxiously await her next move.

Wanda looks at you the same way you think starving lionesses look at zebras separated from the safety of their heard. Her eyes zero in on her pulsing cunt, watching for the perfect moment to-

SMACK!

The riding crop comes down quick against your center, a sharp pain causing a fiery heat to spread up your ribs and down to your toes.

“Does that hurt, baby?” Wanda coos, twirling the end of the crop between the fingers of her nondominant hand.

You nod, trying desperately to gasp for air as drool spills out of the sides of your mouth. “Mmm,” is all you can get from behind the plastic. “Hngf.”

Wanda just laughs down at you, smacking the end light enough not to hurt but hard enough to tease you.

“Aw, my pretty little thing,” a faux pout paints itself across her face. “Such a sensitive baby.”

You whine, overwhelmed and desperate and oh so desperate to press your thighs together for any kind of pressure where you need it most. But no, of course not. Wanda wants to see you struggle, looks down at you with a smirk playing across her lips as you twist and beg, hoping she’ll find it in herself to give you mercy.

Given how the hours previous had gone, though, you doubt she’ll give you any.

“I’m going to give you one of these,” Wanda snaps the crop against your left inner thigh and smirks when you yelp. “For each hundred thousand I lost today.”

You do the mental math – whole body tensing. Nineteen. You’re about to get whipped nineteen times with a toy you haven’t broken in…

Shivers run up your spine and each muscle in your body tenses – whether in fear or anticipation, you don’t know and don’t really care to find out.

The first one comes down against the same inner thigh as before, sure to leave angry hot welts that will need constant care in the next few days. The second goes against the opposite side – skin previously untouched now screaming.

The third and forth are against your hips, fifth and sixth hitting just above your knees.

You lose count after that, mind numb as your wetness pools onto the freshly cleaned comforter. Between your racing heartbeats and the blood in your ears you assumed Wanda had finished with you, but coming to for a breath of fresh air only makes to bring the final blow – this time against your cunt.

With the gag the only sounds that reverberate off the walls come from deep in your chest, screams remnant of a horror experienced from another room. Wanda smiles as she watches you squirm as sparks of pain jump across your center and thighs.

There a few moments of silence as your panting curbs to low breaths, giving you a moment for recovery as your vision clears and the ringing in your ears stops.

It’s only then that Wanda gets up, trailing her fingertips across your sweaty skin as she walks past you.

“C’mon kitten,” she murmurs, stepping out of sight and back towards the chest of toys. “Let me make you feel good…”

Your brow furrows in confusion, pulling weakly at the restraints until you hear a plug being insert into an outlet, and the distinct sound of a long, long cord being unraveled.

The sound of the vibrator makes you groan in anticipation – ecstatic and terrified of how Wanda will use it on you. If she thinks you’ve been good, maybe she’ll be nice – get you off with it pressed against your clit with three of her fingers buried deep inside of you.

Or, if she remains unsatisfied with your performance, she could keep you just on the edge or pushing you over it until your begging meets expectations or she gets bored enough to stop.

As the head is pressed to your clit you nearly scream with relief – the soft vibrations and even softer words hitting you like droplets during the first rainstorm after dry season. It washes over you, coating your skin in delicious relief as your buck your hips and cry out.

Each word, each scream, remains muffled by the sphere in your mouth, but Wanda coos down at you nonetheless.  

“Such a pretty little girl you are,” she says, watching you with the same hawkish gaze as before. It feels more reserved, though, as if she was watching over you rather than attempting to pin you down. “Such a pretty little girl for me.”

She climbs over you, then, never letting the toy leave your body as she pulls your head into her lap. Wanda looks down at you as you fall apart, watches you with eagle eyes as you cum.

As the initial waves of pleasure subside, you sigh in relief.

That is, until the head of the toy is pressed to your center once more. The next orgasm, and the one after that, and the one after that and-

They’re nearly painful as they hit you like a spray of bullet, like you’re being tased. You’re crying and doing your best to wail as you writhe around, Wanda cradling your face the entire time.

Your brain is numb when Wanda decides you had enough, whole body limb in her arms when she switches the soaked toy off.

She unties you with quick fingers, allowing you to slump against her as she takes off the rest of the restraints that litter your body.

“Rest up,” she tells you plainly as you nuzzle into her side. “I’m still pissed.”

You smile into the bare skin of her ribs, leaving a small kiss on the warm skin. Despite her tone, you can tell there’s not much behind it – fury that had settled just beneath her skin long dissipated into something she can save for the next time that man dares show his face in her presence.

There’s a pause once you stop adjusting, a heavy beat of silence that neither of you feels a need to fill. It’s a long while before either of you says anything, and even then the words are quite soft-spoken despite the two of you being the only ones in the large house.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Wanda whispers into your hair.

You give a small nod, unable to move because of the soreness attacking each of your muscles. “Yeah,” you mumble, voice equally low. “Yeah. I love you, too. Do you know that?”

Wanda smiles. “Yeah, yeah. I do.”

[shinobis-of-ninjago-au]

Shinobis of Ninjago

Episode 1: Rise of the Snakes

Prologue Pilot 1 Pilot 2 (Episode 1, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), Next Episode

((Tw: Violence))

Months later, the world of Ninjago seemed more at peace. Not many knew of the Dark Lady's existence or the fact that she had left the realm, but it was a strange coincidence that everything seemed to calm down. The hectic elections had ended, domestic disputes seemed less, and gang violence was low, even Skylor seemed more relaxed. This also meant that the four shinobis were very, very bored.

Skylor and Jay had moved into the Monastery, leaving the weapons-smith shop to be maintained by the neighbours and farmers. They had been renting it out to people, making a steady income every month.

Jay had healed up well, his bandages were gone and he was now able to leave the monastery by himself (Skylor had made sure he was always in her sight). He now wore bracers on his forearms, something that their mother would often do. Before he had moved, he spoke little Ninjargon, but he had improved quickly, speaking only occasionally in broken sentences. The only change Skylor noticed in him is he was tired most of the time and would spend the days in his room sleeping or reading.

It was now early Winter, meaning the heat-lamp in the dragons' stall had been set up and there were candles lit around the monastery to keep it warm. The fireplaces were alive with burning wood and crackling with the approaching holiday season. The ninja were also excited to have their new winter yorois, or what they called a 'dragon riding suit'. It was almost the same as a regular ninja-yoroi, but it was water and wind resistant and the ninjas wore thermal clothing underneath.

Today was a warmer day, as it was still early in the season. There was the faintest amount of snow on the ground at the base of the mountain, but lots piled on top of the monastery. The ninjas sat together playing video games, Jay was nestled in his room reading, and Mystake sat in front of her incense sticks, meditating.

Soon, the shouts from the kunoichis reached her ears, disrupting her meditation. It continued for a few more minutes until Mystake stood up, having had enough of the shouts coming from the game room. She wandered the halls of the Monastery, looking at the sparse decorations Seliel had put up for one of her countries' holidays.

Mystake stopped outside of the game room, the shouts from before now louder and more clear. Sighing, she pushed them open and was greeted by a bright blue light from the television. Pop bottles, candy wrappers, and pizza boxes lay around the room, the ninjas seated comfortably in beanbag chairs and the overstuffed couch.

"Fantastic! I'm outta lives." Nya complained, hitting more buttons on her controller to get back in the game.

"But the lesson lives on." Pixal said, holding her controller at an awkward angle. "And I am getting the hang of it!" Though she had spent months with the others, she still wasn't very good at video games, unlike Skylor who had picked it up right away.

Mystake moved through the room unnoticed, surveying what they did in their free time and frowning. Suddenly, the lights turned on and the screen went black. The kunoichis looked around in confusion before spotting Mystake with the remote in her hands.

"It took us three hours to get there!" Seliel exclaimed, throwing down her controller and sinking into her beanbag chair.

"Why would ya do that? Why!?" Nya demanded.

Mystake put down the remote on the wrapper-strewn coffee table. "Just because a Lady Misako escaped through a vortex, doesn't mean she won't return one day for the Golden Weapons." She lectured.

"But Master Mystake, ever since she has been gone Ninjago has had nothing but peace." Pixal stated.

"Yeah. Peace is borin'. There's no one ta' save, nothin' ta' do." The scout added, stretching back and putting her hands behind her head.

"Yeah, we can train tomorrow." Seliel said, reaching for another slice of pizza.

Mystake kicked the box away, ignoring Seliel's gasp of betrayal. "Never put off till tomorrow what can be done today."

"Well, I was going to call that cute boy I met last week." Seliel said, reaching for her phone. "If that's the case—"

"No dates for you." Mystake said, plucking the phone from the girl's hands. "You four will spend the rest of the day in the indoor training room until supper, and then meditation until lights out."

"Uh, remember when we did a little thing called the 'Tornado of Creation'? I thought that was pretty cool." Skylor reminded her.

Mystake sighed, looking around at her students. "You four have merely scratched the surface of your full potential. There are still so many secrets you have yet to unlock. You haven't even begun to tap into what powers your weapons hold."

"Ya wanna talk secret powers?" Nya asked. "Check this out. Pix, do the thing." Pixal nodded and picked up her Golden Weapon. Extending her whip, she flicked it against the TV. The black screen flickered to life and the four picked up their controllers, re-starting the game.

"Don't get your robes in a bunch," Skylor assured her, "we'll be ready when she decides to show her face."

Jay appeared in the doorway, a piece of paper in his hands. "You need to stop jinxing self." He turned to the rest of the girls. "Lady Misako spotted approaching Jamanikai Village." As soon as he said the words his eyes widened and he looked down at the paper in his hands in disbelief.

The four girls blanked. Then the room erupted into chaos. There was swearing, grunts of pain, and shouts as they scrambled to find the tops of their yorois, weapons, and hoods.

Once everything had been located, they rushed out of the room, stumbling down the halls until they reached the staircase along the western wall. Their footfalls echoed through the narrow staircase as they raced down to the Dragon Stalls. Soon, they were hit with a new wave of heat from the lamp nestled in the top of the cavern.

The Dragon Stalls had been carved into the mountain, long before Mystake recruited the ninja. There were eight red doors, each one painted with the symbol of the element represented by a weapon. The doors of Fire, Time, Sound, and Earth remained vacant.

The dragons were sprawled about, but once they heard their masters coming down the stairs, they got up and went to stand in front of their respective doors.

The ninja burst into the cavern, and Nya, having the dragon closest to the wall, ran over and pulled on four separate levers. Saddles dropped from the ceiling, supported by chains. They were lowered onto the dragons' backs and the ninja unhooked them and began strapping the girth under their bellies.

Pixal's dragon, Byte, let out a roar as she pulled it too tight. Seliel swung her leg over the saddle. Hearing the clang of metal, she looked down, seeing her staff on the ground.

Jay walked up to Skylor, who was fastening a bag to her dragon's saddle. "Can I help?" He asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Jay Bird. Where we go danger abounds. I don't want you getting hurt, especially not by her hand." Jay let out a sigh of disappointment, even though he knew his sister was only trying to protect him from what happened last time. Skylor threw her leg over the dragon's back, only to pause. "Uh, a little help?" She asked, bending down and making grabby-hands at the reins.

Jay bit his lip and handed the reins to his sister. Pixal turned to Mystake and nodded. Mystake, who was standing by the levers, pulled the biggest one and the doors fell forward. The kunoichis cheered and took off, leaving Jay and Mystake to watch them fly off.

"Will they ever reach full potential?" Jay asked.

"In time," Mystake replied. "Maybe long time, but in time."

—————————————————-

"Just like old times, eh, Misty?" Seliel said, patting her dragon on the side of the neck. They hadn't been out riding their dragons in days, leaving the beasts to become very restless.

"You guys believe what Sensei said about our full potential?" Skylor asked a few minutes later. "I mean, we have the weapons, the skills, what else could there be?"

"We've never had ta' use the weapons, besides for our own personal gain. I wonder wha' they do." Nya said.

"I for one, look forward to the future." The kanchō said. "If there is more for us to accomplish, let it be."

"I don't know about you ladies, but is anyone else a little excited about facing Lady Misako? I've been looking forward to trying out some new spinjitzu moves." Seliel exclaimed. "'Could be the perfect opportunity."

"Ha ha, race ya'll there?" Nya challenged as she surged forward. She heard shouts behind her as her teammates struggled to catch up. They soared above the clouds and kept an eye out for Jamanikai Village, not wanting to fly past another village like they have in the past.

Jamanikai Village was located close to the Monastery, not more than a fifteen minute flight. Nestled in the South-Eastern Mountain Range, it was a quiet village, maybe only two hundred people. But it was a popular tourist spot in the summer, especially for those who lived in cities.

Soon enough they spotted the village through the clouds. Pulling their dragons into a dive, they raced forward, crashing into a deep snowbank just outside of a small cluster of shops and houses. Climbing out of the snow, the four brushed the snow from their yorois and began digging out their dragons. They then sent them on their way to fly around the village until called upon, a way of keeping them warm.

Skylor watched her dragon, Amber, take off before turning to her teammates, throwing a fist up in the air. "Yo fui la primera!" ('I was first!')

Nya whipped towards her. "No, no one was faster than me."

"Nuh-uh! My feet were down before yours."

"You are all disillusioned, it was clearly me." Pixal argued.

They were reminded of their reason for being there once they heard a scream from within the village. Putting their argument on the figurative back-burner, they got out their weapons and made their way into the village.

All the doors were closed tightly and curtains were drawn. The village almost seemed like a ghost town, empty except for the occasional face that would appear in a window. The ninja knocked on a door, hoping to get any direction to where Misako would be. A brave man pointed to the next mountain over before wishing them good luck and closing the door.

The ninja set out through the village until they reached the bridge that connected the to the next mountain. The next part of the village was even quieter than the last, if that was possible. The ninja slowly made their way down the cobblestone streets, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. They stopped in the heart of the village where a fountain was located.

They paused when they heard a little girl's giggles. Immediately getting into a fighting stance, they turned, facing the fountain. A small figure emerged from behind, dancing along the fountain's outer ring and singing softly.

"...Don't wake up or else you'll find a spider in your mouth." The figure paused, looking up at the four kunoichis. She stood up straight and smiled. "Finally, another human." She threw her hands up in the air. "I demand all the candy in town!"

Skylor dropped her stance, sliding her sai into their scabbards and placing her hands on her hips. "Uh, who's that?"

"Harumi Garmadon, Misako's daughter." Seliel groaned. "Looks like she escaped Darkley's again."

The doors around the small village began to open up, faces peeking out curiously. Harumi smiled at the bigger audience. "Give me candy or else I'll release the Serpentine on you!" She pulled out a can and after struggling to get the lid off, held it out to the street before her. A few rubber snakes jumped out, landing weakly on the ground.

"She's going to have to do a lot better than using an old bedtime story to scare people." Skylor said as she picked up one of the snakes. She let it drop as Seliel stepped forward to go get the young girl.

"The Serpentine are real, Skylor, and they are not something to joke about." Pixal informed her.

"¿Serpentina, real?" Skylor scoffed. "We're talking about the ancient race of snake-people who once ruled Ninjago and were supposedly locked underground."

"Sealed in five different tombs to separate the warrin' tribes, and insure they don't unify to exact their revenge on those who put them there." The teisatsu babbled.

"It's an old wives tale to teach kids not to poke their noses where they don't belong." Skylor said, waving her hand. "Don't you think it's a little suspicious no one's ever found one of their tombs?"

"That's because you'd be a fool to look for one." Seliel said as she walked back to her teammates, a screaming girl thrown over her shoulder. "If there was anything I hated more than dragons, it was snakes. Rubber or not."

"Bow down to me, or suffer my wrath!" Harumi threatened, pounding her fists on Seliel's back. "I'll give you the count of three! One! Two!"

"What are we supposed to do with her?" Skylor asked.

"Two and half--"

—————————————————-

Harumi screamed, struggling against the cloth that bound her to a chair inside a grocery store. "You've just made me your nemesis! Mark my words!" She glared at the ninja who were picking up groceries for their own home.

"Relax, young one." Said the one in purple. "Your boarding school is sending someone to come pick you up. You can wait here until then."

Harumi huffed, turning away. The ninja paid and left, but the orange one remained, walking over towards the girl. She pulled something out of one of her pockets, holding it out to Harumi. Harumi turned to her, looking down at the lollipop that was being held out towards her. The orange kunoichi removed the wrapper and gave the girl the piece of candy.

"Crime doesn't pay, niña. Next time try paying for your candy."

And with that, she was gone.

[azaisya]

no art for this week bc its been crazy so have 1.7k of alternate ending/sequel to Sleeping Awake (my de-aged shen jiu fic). This was where I was going with the original before I decided I wanted to focus more on the qijiu, so some of the stuff in the beginning is repeated. If I was writing a sequel (which I probably won’t), then this would probably be how it started.

“Take one of my robes?” Yue Qingyuan asked, voice small. 

Shen Qingqiu hesitated, his awareness of how underdressed he was going to war with the instinct to refuse anything from Yue Qingyuan. He’d spent the last however-many-decades violently exploding every time Yue Qingyuan gave him a gift. He’d assumed they’d been given out of pity or obligation, expensive baubles to cover up the dirt of Shen Jiu’s past. 

But—

He really was very underdressed. This robe was one of the outfits he’d worn to sneak out to the Warm Red Pavilion, back when he’d been a lesser disciple and in need of subterfuge to get off his Peak. 

Wordlessly, Shen Qingqiu picked up Yue Qingyuan’s outer robe from where they’d carelessly dumped it the night before and slid it over his arms. It was a little too big and he chafed at wearing another person’s colors, but the look on Yue Qingyuan’s face was worth it. 

With a sarcastic wave, Shen Qingqiu turned on his heel and strode from his room.

The robe was a little less worth it when Yue Qingyuan’s head disciple dropped a teapot in shock when she saw him. 

He ignored her. She was the overly candid girl who’d intercepted him and Luo Binghe yesterday, but that didn’t surprise him. Yue Qingyuan was too soft with his disciples, and she was clever. Of course she would be outspoken. 

At the thought of Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu grimaced. He’d specifically ordered that the beast wasn’t to be fed all weekend. Ning Yingying had probably ignored that and brought him food anyways, charmed as she was by Luo Binghe’s pretty, pitiable face. 

He should lock him in the woodshed for another week, just for that. 

The thought made him falter, and he spared a moment to be intensely grateful that nobody was around to see him trip on nothing. 

He’d always told himself that he was nothing like Qiu Jianluo. That he’d only ever beaten boys who deserved it, that they should be grateful that he hadn’t done worse. 

He’d never touched any of them, after all, no matter what the rumors said about him. 

But his younger self hadn’t even needed to think before equating Luo Binghe’s shizun with Qiu Jianluo. 

That was another revelation, Shen Qingqiu supposed, to add on to all the others he was having. He didn’t like that one very much. It wasn’t earth-shatteringly surprising in the way that Yue Qingyuan’s apparently unconditional devotion was. 

Perhaps that said something about him. 

He didn’t like that very much either. 

He was still turning the matter over in his mind when he arrived at Qing Jing Peak’s familiar landscape. It was late enough in the day that his disciples should already be at their lessons, and they would survive a few more hours without him. 

The bamboo house was almost exactly as he’d left it, but somebody had made his bed and moved the black and silver fan—Yue Qingyuan’s latest gift—onto a table. It was a deceptively plain thing, despite the value of its skeleton. Shen Qingqiu suspected that the painting—bamboo and distant birds—had been done by Yue Qingyuan himself. It had the hesitant, detailed brushwork of somebody unused to painting but had tried their best anyways. 

It was the most sentimental gift that Yue Qingyuan had ever given him. His other gifts were impersonal things worth exorbitant amounts of money that suit Shen Qingqiu’s carefully cultivated image. 

Shen Qingqiu would’ve thrown them away, if there wasn’t some part of him that balked at wasting that much money. Mostly, they just languished in the backs of drawers or vanished into boxes. He’d thrown some of the more egregious pieces into Yue Qingyuan’s face. 

The fan was different, though. He could see the time that Yue Qingyuan had spent on it, could see the care and emotion poured into every brush stroke. 

It’d broken him. 

With a sigh, Shen Qingqiu shrugged off the borrowed robe and, after a beat, laid it out on his bed. His own clothes were more complex. His younger self would have despaired at all the finicky ties and complicated layers, but Shen Qingqiu managed with ease. 

With each layer he pulled on, the more that strange, nervous energy in his chest settled. It was as if something inside of him had been knocked off-kilter by his qi deviation and then shoved even further askew by the discovery that Yue Qingyuan had returned for him and the sudden realization that he’d come far too close to the line that Qiu Jianluo had drawn. 

The clothes made him feel more like himself. A doubtful boon, given the scum that he was. 

He turned to leave again but then hesitated, eyes lingering on his bed. Yue Qingyuan’s robes were a streak of shadow across the green sheets. 

He’d been so afraid, when he’d woken up the morning before. 

He wondered if Qiu Haitang was still alive. He hoped she was. He hoped she was happy. 

Was that fucked up?

Maybe.

Setting his jaw, Shen Qingqiu snatched the closest fan—Yue Qingyuan’s fan, the one that had started this all—and swept from the room. He made his way towards the woodshed with a calm, steady stride, the black and silver fan held loosely in his hand. 

He could see the distant shapes of his disciples running around the mountain, tiny blobs of white and green. A sudden anxiety struck him, so sharply that the fan creaked as his grip tightened around it. 

What if Luo Binghe had told them?

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t imagine how his disciples—the children of wealthy lords and poor farmers alike—would look at him if they learned that he was nothing more than a worthless slave. 

A couple of his disciples—the quicker ones, talking cheerfully while their peers tried to finish their laps around the peak—noticed him and ran over. Shen Qingqiu panicked and opened his fan with a flick of his wrist, raising it over his face. 

“Shizun!” the short-haired girl—Lin Xieran—called, as uncomplicatedly delighted to see him as ever. Neither of them looked alarmed or disgusted. If anything, they seemed a little more cheerful than usual to see him, although they were well trained enough to bow instead of run up him and cling. 

Shen Qingqiu rewarded them both with gentle pats on the head. If his hand trembled, none of them mentioned it. 

Luo Binghe, he thought, that off-kilter uncertainty creeping back into his chest, What game are you playing?

Well. He would find out soon enough. Voice as smooth as ever, Shen Qingqiu asked, “Where is your Ming-shixiong?”

The shorter one—a round-faced boy named Sun Tiandou who looked younger than he was—wrinkled his nose. “Ming-shixiong is still running with everybody else.”

Shen Qingqiu nodded imperiously. That was good. Ming Fan had been raised by respectable parents on a comfortable estate, and so he was prone to panicking over even the most minor of injuries. If he’d gone out to run willingly without his shizun’s prompting, then he couldn’t be terribly injured. “Good. And—” The beast died in his tongue. 

Had Qiu Jianluo called him a beast? He couldn’t remember. 

“—and Luo Binghe?”

Sun Tiandou’s expression tilted uncomfortably, but Lin Xieran’s lip curled at the name. “Oh,” she said, waving a hand flippantly, “He’s still in the woodshed.”

Shen Qingqiu idly poked at his newfound disgust with himself and discovered that it didn’t extend far enough to compel him to scold Xieran for her coldness. “Very good,” he said instead, “You’ve both done well today.” 

Their expressions turned instantly starstruck, and Shen Qingqiu continued down the path towards the woodshed. 

To his displeasure, there was a figure sitting against the woodshed’s door. He would’ve thought it was Luo Binghe if it weren’t for the bright orange of Ning Yingying’s favorite hair ribbons. She spotted him and leaped to her feet, waving her arm with the enthusiasm of a child who’d never been punished before. 

Shen Qingqiu flicked his fan open and waved it gently at his face. “What are you do—” All his breath left him in a rush as Ning Yingying threw herself at him, hands flying around his waist. 

Shen Qingqiu sighed and waited for her to let go. She did quickly enough, dancing back a couple steps and grinning up at him. “Shizun!” 

He examined her over the edge of his fan, tracing the shape of her bright brown eyes and her round face. He wondered if she really did look like Qiu Haitang, or if his mind had just seen a bright girl with gentle smiles and made the connection for him. “What is Yingying doing here?”

Ning Yingying’s expressions turned as sly as it ever went. Mostly she just ducked her head and scuffed her feet. “Yingying is, um—” She looked around, spotted the dirty dishes lying where she’d been sitting earlier, and hastily said, “Cleaning! Yingying is cleaning.”

Shen Qingqiu raised one eyebrow and didn’t bother replying. 

Ning Yingying fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve. “And, um, waiting for Shizun!” She looked up, lips curling into a hopeful smile. “This one is glad that Shizun is feeling better!”

Fear beat another staccato rhythm against Shen Qingqiu’s spine, a desperate rattling of what did Luo Binghe say. He revealed none of it on his face. “Did Yingying bring food to Luo Binghe during his punishment?”

Ning Yingying visibly drooped. “He’s so small, Shizun—”

Shen Qingqiu opened his mouth and then shut it, feeling suddenly tired. The rebuke on the tip of his tongue faded, and he just sighed. “Take the plates back to the kitchens.” 

Ning Yingying peeked up at him, hope lighting her eyes. “Yes, Shizun!” She ran to grab the plates and then scuttled back, eyes wide. “Shizun isn’t going to punish A-Luo, right? He didn’t ask me to bring the food.”

Any other day, and Shen Qingqiu’s temper would have flared at the familiar address. Instead, he just said sharply, “I’ve warned you to keep your distance from him, Yingying. Do as I say.” 

Ning Yingying nodded. “Yes, Shizun.” 

Liar. He didn’t call her on it, though. “Go.” 

She sketched a bow, shallower than she should’ve, and dashed off. But that was alright, because she was his favorite and she knew it.

[quillandink333]

Sunrise

BotW Link X Zelda

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.5k

WARNINGS: suggestive themes, implied sex

Summary: Ten long years after her return to the land of the living, the queen of Hyrule takes her first steps out of her comfort zone with her groom’s hand in hers.

Masterlist

“Tighter.”

I suffered through my struggle to breathe as my lady’s maid tightened my corset to its limits. This was for an occasion that would occur once and never again. If ever had there been a time when I’d needed to look my absolute best, it was now.

My eyes constantly kept returning to the clock on the wall. There was only one hour left before the ceremony was scheduled to commence. I wasn’t even at the Temple of Time, and yet I already felt close to fainting. I looked in the mirror, and I still had the waist width of an obese hynox. “Honestly, can’t you make it any tighter?” I snapped.

“Your Majesty, please try to remain calm,” pleaded one of my maids. I nodded; she was right. I was really letting my stress get the best of me. “My deepest apologies if I’m speaking out of line, but, ehm...I feel it necessary to mention something that your lover spoke to us about.”

When had Link possibly found the time to seek out my own group of personal attendants to tell them something? “Not at all. Go on.”

“Yes. He told us to put your comfort at the highest priority rather than your appearance. He said, quote, ‘Today means more to us than any other day of our lives up until now, so it’s imperative that her memory of it is not plagued by discomfort.’ He was quite insistent about it, I tell you.”

My heart fluttered. It was just like him to go out of his way like that for my sake. I swallowed my pride. “Very well.”

“Would you like me to loosen your corset then?”

“Yes, please,” I heaved. “Thank you.”

I’d recently been blessed with the rare opportunity to be freed from my royal responsibilities for a few days. This was something that only happened for me once or perhaps twice a year. Luckier still, Link had managed to secure a week-long leave from his duties as general of the Calamity Defence Brigade in conjunction with my time off. Since it had been ages since we’d had the chance, we decided to go on a proper adventure like we’d used to in the days when our kingdom had still been in its early stages of restoration. I suggested we spend our few days of freedom in Kakariko Village to pay a long overdue visit to our old friends who lived there, and he proposed that we set out on a hiking trip as well just to make things more exciting and to get outside for a change.

However, I‘d neglected to discern that ‘hiking trip,’ in Linkish, translated to ‘long and arduous climb up a near vertical mountain range.’ It was now an hour or so past midnight, and the two of us were making our way up the side of the cliff just south of Lanayru Road. As one might expect from someone who’s spent roughly the last half decade cooped up in the castle and filling out scroll after scroll of political documents, I was remarkably out of shape. My partner, however, was just as full of energy as he’d been in those olden days, scrambling up the rocky hills with ease. Even by the time we’d reached a level where he was able to stand and walk, I was still trudging along on all fours, barely able to carry my own weight. The gracious gentleman he was, he offered to carry me on his back for a ways when he saw what a sad state I was in.

Not long after I’d recovered strength enough to walk on my own, I started to feel a chill in the air. It was already quite cold to begin with on account of the high altitude, but now my snowquill tunic was beginning to fail me. I stiffened, watching my breath come out in billowing puffs of fog. With Link just a few steps ahead, he looked over his shoulder and came to a stop, nearly causing me to walk straight into him. He smiled mysteriously.

I turned in the direction he faced and spotted the cause of the sudden drop in temperature. In the distance, but steadily drawing nearer, was none other than the spirit Naydra. My eyes probably looked like they were ready to pop out of my skull in that moment.

Before I could fully grasp the situation, he’d already begun retrieving his paraglider from his bag, which he’d propped up against one of the monumental stone pillars dotting the hillside. “Hold onto me.” He held his hand out, holding both handles of the glider in the other. The dragon of ice and snow continued her rapid approach. “Zelda, quickly!” I rushed to his side. He hooked his arm around my waist, and I clung to him tightly by his shoulders.

“Link, are you sure this—ahh!”

A biting gust of wind came our way, and then the feeling of solid earth beneath my feet vanished.

I cried out in terror as he and I were swept upward. I’d used a paraglider before—I even had one of my own—but I’d never considered the thought of sharing one with another. And yet, to my surprise, we were still alive. I summoned the courage to open my eyes, and the moment I did, I was mesmerized.

Naydra was gliding around the two of us, encapsulating us in a vortex created by her flowing, river-like body that shined in a brilliant array of colours the likes of which I’d never beheld up close before. Silently, I gazed up at Link, whose cheeks were coral-coloured from the cold and whose locks danced about his face in the breeze. He wore the serene expression of one who’d had many a chance to experience this sort of thing, but was still just as awestruck as he’d been the first time. Despite the arctic winds nipping at me constantly through my clothes, feeling his arm around my waist holding me fast to his familiar frame filled me to the brim with a tangible sense of warmth and safety.

Naydra guided us with her winds to the top of the stone pillar, and I relaxed at the feeling of the ground beneath me, which was covered in iridescent blue flowers of all different kinds. The spirit of wisdom looked at us with respect in her ancient eyes. Link’s arm stroked up and down my back passively, still wrapped around my waist. Her icy breath touched my face gently and gracefully before she turned and disappeared into the sky.

“Zelda...?”

I turned around in his hold and bumped noses with him on accident, making us both crack a smile. I hadn’t quite finished laughing when he cupped my face and touched his lips to mine. Our embrace lasted an age. A symphony of strings had burst into song deep within my heart. It almost felt like we’d left the ground again as the sound of the wind caressing the flora flew into my ears.

When we parted, he touched his forehead softly to my own. I mirrored his blissful smile, whispering an, “I love you,” and laying my palm over his hand which rested against my cheek.

“I love you,” he echoed. Behind him, the sky was awash with tears of the Goddesses. Down below, the lights of the village shined just as brilliantly. I no longer felt any hint of the cold.

Link let go of me and knelt down on one knee. He then reached into his pouch and pulled out a small box, which he opened to reveal a ring. My hand flew up to my parted lips.

“Will you be my wife?”

My eyes became damp with tears. Of course, there was only one answer.

“Yes.”

Six tireless months of preparation had passed, and the ceremony was now underway. My whole body was more tense than the string of a bow. After an eternity of holding my breath as I waited outside in my carriage, watching the parade of participants walk one by one through the temple doors, my moment had arrived. I made my way up to the looming Doors of Time, and I peered in to see a grand sanctuary decked from one end to the other with stunning floral decor courtesy of Magda, a lovely lady Link had introduced me to with a passion for gardening and flower arrangement. At the far end on either side of the Goddess statue were our bridesmaids and groomsmen all standing in a row. At Her feet stood the priest and, in front of him, my soon-to-be husband whose jaw had dropped to the floor at the sight of me in my full regalia.

I tried my best to keep breathing normally whilst I took in the vast number of attendees filling up the main floor and the gallery through my peripheral vision. They were all trusted friends of ours, of course. However, my level of acquaintanceship with them did not change the fact that most were important figures of society who had high expectations of me, the queen of Hyrule. It was with this in mind that I held my head high, staying vehemently focused on my posture and the way I put each foot in front of the other as I walked down the carpeted aisle.

I held my bouquet in one hand and lifted the skirt of my dress with the other as I ascended the stairs leading to the altar, my train trailing gracefully behind me. I took my place beside Link and turned to face him, allowing him to remove my veil. It was subtle, but I’d without a doubt caught his lips forming the word, “Breathtaking.” I wanted to comment on how he looked equally as stunning in his regal, ivory attire accented by the various bits of gold decorating him from head to toe, but I’d save that for later.

At this time, the priest opened with the customary “Dearly Beloved” speech. I spotted the blur of court painter Pikango’s brush out of the corner of my eye. Although photographs were commonplace nowadays, I’d requested that he do a small-scale portrait of the ceremony with the reason being simply that Link and I were fond of his paintings.

Once the priest’s heartwarming introduction had reached its end, he looked to us and requested that we declare our vows to one and other. We’d worked out ahead of time that Link would go first. Yet if I could have predicted the true depth and authenticity of the words that were about to pass his lips, I would have taken the lead, for his vows would set the standard for my own far, far above what I could possibly meet.

“My dear Zelda,” he began in earnest,

“I still often find myself looking back on the days when I knew nothing but the sweet sound of your voice. In those days that I spent scouring the land for little scraps of my life from one hundred and ten years ago, the thought of seeing your face with my own eyes and hearing your voice with my own ears was what gave me comfort during sleepless nights. I may never regain most of my memories of our past relationship, but that no longer bothers me, because since then, I have made countless precious memories with you that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Like the time we spent living in our little house in Hateno Village, where every morning I would make us breakfast while you’d try and think up new ways to use me as a test subject for your research.”

This earned a collective chuckle from the audience and put a crooked smile on my face as I tried not to laugh.

“Although I said, ‘Yes,’ when you first asked if I still loved you despite everything, I didn’t realize just how many things about you that I would later discover and fall in love with one by one: your brilliant mind, your kind and affectionate heart, and the true depth of your inextinguishable passion, just to name a few. These past years that I’ve spent by your side are what have shaped me into the man standing before you now. My hope for the future, as well as my promise to you, is that we will continue to set out on new adventures and forge new memories together for the rest of our days as husband and wife.”

To say his words had hit me straight in the heart would be an arrant understatement. It was all I could do to hold myself back from prematurely tossing my bouquet over my shoulder and kissing him to death right then and there. Instead, however, I retained my composure and proceeded to recite what I had prepared.

“Link,

“As you may have noticed, we are surrounded by silent princess flowers, a once rare breed that hadn’t yet found a place to thrive amongst civilization a century ago, but has now flourished into a prospering species that can be seen from every window in this beautiful kingdom of ours. Now, since I know you’re already renowned for your role as the hero of Hyrule, I’ll talk about something a little more personal between you and me. And that something is that you’re not just a hero to Hyrule, but even more so to me. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never once left my side willfully and I’ve always been able to rely on you in times of need. It’s thanks solely to your undying support over the years that my dream of taking a fallen nation and rebuilding it into something greater than ever before has since blossomed into reality.”

It was around then when I looked up to see tears forming in his eyes. He nodded curtly, urging me to continue.

“I promise to be there for you whenever you’re being too hard on yourself, and to turn to you for guidance when I do the same. I promise to remind you, when you lose sight of who you are, that you are perfect in every way no matter how many doubts you may have. I promise to always make time to spend with you, and to respect your need to be alone at times. And above all, I promise to you absolute love and trust, for although today marks the start to the rest of our lives together, I know it will not be enough time to spend with you.”

Link’s face was fixed in a sentimental smile that mirrored my own. He’d managed to hold back his tears, but it was clear to see how moved he was. Glancing around the room, I realized he and I weren’t the only ones who had gotten emotional.

With that, the time came for us to exchange rings and join hands.

“Link, please place Zelda’s ring on her fourth finger.” I raised my hand out, and he held it with the utmost care while he slipped the ring onto my extended finger. “Do you, Link, take Zelda to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in the good times and the bad, treating her as your equal for as long as you both shall live?”

He never took his eyes off me as he gave his answer. “I do.”

“Zelda, please place Link’s ring on his fourth finger.” I did as instructed, glad to hear the priest drop the honourifics for the occasion like I’d asked. Link’s ring fit perfectly on his slim, calloused finger as I put it on for him. “Do you, Zelda, take Link to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in the good times and the bad, treating him as your equal for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Very good.” The priest closed his tome and placed it under his arm. “With that, by the power vested in me by the Goddess Hylia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Of course, we couldn’t just stay in our current positions and have a light, chaste kiss—absolutely not.

Link just had to set fire to all established formalities by sweeping me off my feet and dipping me almost to the point where I was parallel with the floor. Only then did he dive in for the kiss. Roaring applause ensued. Flower petals showered down from above. In the midst of all the excitement, I could’ve sworn I heard a stifled chuckle before someone mumbled the word, “‘Seal,’” under their breath.

During the procession following the ceremony, my subjects—soon to be our subjects—were all lined up along the route to the castle, waiting to get a glimpse of the newlywed royal couple in their specially fashioned horse-drawn carriage. Upon arriving at our destination, the butterflies in my stomach began fluttering up a storm when I noticed the throngs of people that had gathered. For years, I’d hesitated announcing our relationship to the public for fear of their disapproval. But seeing their smiling faces and hearing their joyous cheers from the balcony filled me with hope. On top of that, the proud smile worn by my husband as he waved to the crowd from beside me was infectious.

The reception was spectacular, which only made it all the more terrifying. For the whole of the afternoon, the castle grounds were open to the lucky winners of a raffle that people from all over the world had been given the opportunity to participate in. To kick it off, Link and I each gave a brief speech encouraging guests to make merry and celebrate to their hearts’ content. From then on, the great hall was alive with music coupled by the din of friendly conversation, and every so often, the names and titles of new arrivals would be announced from the main entrance.

My aversion to large social gatherings like this was no secret to Link. If not for royal traditions, we both would’ve preferred to have a nice, simple wedding in the countryside and to keep our invitations limited to a select few of our closest friends. Even so, he would not accept my perfectly appropriate inclination to simply preside over the festivities from my throne. Instead, when people were beginning to partner up in the middle of the ballroom, he dragged me down one of the soaring flights of stairs by force straight into the heart of the crowd. Everything came to an abrupt halt. My stomach sank. Link, clearly pleased as punch to be the centre of attention, bowed and offered me his hand as if to say, “May I have this dance?”

Given that all eyes were now glued to us, I was left with no choice but to digress and take his hand. The moment he drew me closer and placed his other hand on my waist, the orchestra raised their instruments and began playing, which prompted the dancers to begin dancing. The tumult of twirling and sidestepping and switching of partners that then ensued had my head spinning.

At some point when Link and I were back in each other’s arms amidst the whirlpool of dancers, we’d gravitated toward the rim of the ballroom floor where a few steps led up to an expanse of tables and chairs beyond which stood a doorway leading outside. My partner was looking around the room with intent. I glanced over my shoulder to see whatever he had seen, but I was swept off to the side as soon as my head was turned.

Half of me was filled with relief to be away from prying eyes as I followed him to Hylia knew where. The other half was filled with doubt that our absence would go unnoticed for long. And the second half was prevailing over the first. He didn’t answer any of my continuous demands to know just where he was taking me. All he did was continue along on his happy-go-lucky way. Perhaps even he didn’t know where he was going.

We hadn’t gotten far when we’d reached a small pavilion overlooking the castle gardens. He turned to face me with a worrying glint in his eye. “Wait, what are you doing?” He gripped my shoulders. “Link—”

Before I could get another word out, he backed me up into the banister and began slowly ravishing my mouth. I gave into him, my fingers weaving themselves into his modestly groomed locks out of habit. He drew away sooner than I’d anticipated, and my eyes fluttered open.

“Kissing my wife,” he finally answered, flashing that charming smile of his. My shoulders shook a little in laughter as I pulled him in for another kiss. He crooned happily, taking me by the waist. His hands roamed across the bodice of my gown, feeling every little intricacy embroidered onto its surface. “I must say,” he muttered, “I couldn’t have imagined something that‘d make you look so gorgeous.”

“Well, you really have the tailors to thank for all this,” I blushed, playing with the pleats of my elegant skirt. “I’m quite pleased with their work myself.”

“While it looks magnificent on you, darling,” he began, running a finger under where it scooped up and cupped my breasts, “I am looking forward to seeing you take it off later this evening.”

I pushed him away gently. “Stop it. Someone could hear—ah!” He grabbed my behind through my dress, without warning.

“Sorry,” he lied, snickering. “I just can’t help myself around you.” He gave me a quick kiss to the temple. I glowered at him, praying he’d get the message that this wasn’t funny to me anymore, but he paid no mind as he bent down and started hiking my skirt up my leg. My face burned as hot as the touch of his fingertips trailing up the skin of my thigh. I looked around frantically for anyone we might’ve been in plain sight of.

“Link,” I whined, “for the love of the Goddesses—”

“Hey, does anyone see the newlyweds about?” He and I both froze at Prince Sidon’s jolly and boisterous tones booming all the way from the great hall. “I figure it’s about time to roll out some old Hyrulian traditions!”

The next thing I knew, I was sat on a big throne that had been set up in the dead centre of the ballroom, and my groom was kneeling at my feet with an utterly victorious smirk on his face. Kass and the other musicians had stopped playing. All of the guests—every single one as well as some staff members—had gathered in front of us. I cursed Sidon under my breath, making Link’s grin grow wider. Everyone was cheering and whistling like they were watching the semiannual shield surfing tournament. I laughed halfheartedly, feeling humiliation sinking in.

With no hesitation, Link raised my right leg over his shoulder and ducked his head under my dress. I didn’t have time to react before I felt him nip gently at my inner thigh. I jumped, biting back a yelp. The audience hollered out in excitement. The ten seconds or so that it then took him to take my garter between his teeth and inch it along the length of my leg seemed like a century. When he emerged, he looked up at me with a sultry gaze that made my blood boil.

With the garter still in his mouth, he stood up and tossed it over his shoulder like a dog with a stick. This did me in. I erupted into uncontrollable bouts of laughter, and Link and the rest of the audience followed suit. Regrettably I was too hysterical to notice who had caught it.

The rest of the reception went on without a hitch. Immediately following Link’s grandiose display of shamelessness, I performed the long-awaited throwing of the bouquet. This time I remembered to take note of the catcher; it was none other than Impa’s granddaughter, Paya, whose complexion had taken on a shade similar to that of her Sheikah facial markings. After that, there were one or two more traditions that needed to be taken care of, such as the cutting of the cake. Link and I had to be given a ladder to stand on in order for us to be able to reach the top tier. Even so, the amount of effort needed was befitting of the delectable prize waiting for me at the end. My lovely husband even offered to feed me the fruits and berries off of his slice, and who would I have been to decline his generosity?

A short while later, I was out on the dance floor again. Compared to before, I was feeling a great deal more relaxed as I mingled with the the many, many partygoers.

Then I heard the thunderous crack of an explosion.

I looked out through the great hall’s lofty windows and witnessed the shimmering hues of fireworks painting the night sky. My plans for them had completely slipped my mind. By the time they’d begun, many people had already made their way outside. I scanned the room for Link and, upon spotting him, asked my current dance partner to excuse me and made my way over to him. Then he followed me to the balcony where we’d enjoy the show for as long as it would last, until the clock struck midnight and the celebration was drawn to a close.

The night had already progressed into the small hours of morning when my husband and I had made it back to our shared quarters. Our lavish ensembles were folded neatly away inside a box in our wardrobe, probably never to be worn again. I’d never revelled so much in the sensation of lying down on my bed and feeling all the tension in my body melt away. What a day it had been.

“I love you.” Link’s voice was low and warm as his fingertips combed delicately through the roots of my hair.

“I love you too,” I smiled, idly tracing each of the scars littering his chest one by one. “Be honest. How long did it take you to write those vows?”

He donned a prideful grin, saying, “Made them up on the spot.”

“I said, ‘Be honest,’” I giggled, giving him a light shove.

“I am! It’s the truth!” And yet his ear-to-ear grin did little to back up his claim.

“Really?” I gave him an incredulous look, which he challenged with a raise of his brow. “Well, I, for one, wrote out draft after draft and spent hours of my precious time memorizing and rehearsing them.”

“I figured as much,” he chided into my neck. A chill raced through my blanketed body followed by another bubbly laugh.

I rolled my eyes. “If you are telling the truth and you really did improvise that whole thing, then...I admit, I’m impressed.”

“Am I not brilliant?”

“Oh, yes,” I smiled, craning my neck to kiss his jawline. Then with a slight yawn as I laid my head back down on his shoulder, “Absolutely.”

[joaquinwhorres]

Best of Friends (Ch. 1) {Bucky x Reader}

SUMMARY ››››› When your best friend steals marries Bucky's best friend, the two of you are left with only one solution: to become best friends yourselves.

PAIRING ››››› Bucky Barnes x Reader

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,916

WARNINGS ››››› There is no abuse in this story, no drug use, no depression, and as the only warnings worth putting up throughout the series, will be based around major plot points and surprise, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG. 

A/N ››››› So I love and adore this story so much. I originally wrote it as an OC story and you can find those versions of the chapters on AO3 or FFN​

The pounding on the door was seriously the last thing you needed right now. 

The first thing you needed was a drink.

Unfortunately there was no way on God's green earth you were going to successfully parallel park that UHAUL, and the idea of going to a liquor store within walking distance of your new place seemed about as safe as letting in the person on the other side of the door. Something told you it wasn't the UPS guy causing the door to rattle against the frame.

You sent up a silent prayer that whoever it was would just go away and leave you to the excellent pity party you had been throwing herself.

The banging grew louder. Which was about right for today.

Since dying probably couldn't make you feel any worse than you did right now, you strode across the apartment and wrenched open the door. In the next second, you were pushed back into the apartment as someone hurled themselves at you. 

"You're here!"

Thank goodness. Bernadette. 

Your shoulders dropped as you wrapped your arms tightly around your best friend, squeezing your eyes shut and willing yourself to relax into the wave of relief. "Hi," you mumbled.

"Took you long enough to open the door," Bernadette complained, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she rocked you from side to side.

"I thought you were a crazy person."

Bernadette let out a wild laugh right in your ear, and you flinched but refused to let go. 

"She is a crazy person," a male voice interrupted your moment, and you opened your eyes to find two hulking figures leaning against the wall behind Bernadette. The brunette smirked at you--or maybe Bernadette--as the blonde seemed preoccupied with scanning the hallway. 

"Fuck you, Bucky," Bernadette lifted her middle finger for him to see without releasing you from the hug. 

Bucky just laughed in response. "I suggested texting you that we were on your way, but she thought you'd enjoy the surprise." His eyes glimmered with amusement as your eyes rolled on their own accord. 

"And you did, right?" Bernadette asked, pulling back enough to look at you eagerly. 

"Maybe we should get out of the hallway," the blonde suggested, putting a stop to the bickering and saving you from having to pick sides.

"Yes!" Bernadette's attention shifted as she released you from the hug. "Let's see it!" 

Your stomach constricted. "It's pretty rough."

"Of course it is. You just got here like thirty minutes ago," she dismissed, pushing past you. You sighed, opening the door and letting the men enter. 

“Hi Y/N. Sorry we didn't text,” the blonde greeted, giving you a quick hug on his way in. 

“It's fine, Steve,” you patted his back before dropping back down onto your feet.

“Your Honor,” Bucky grinned, entering the apartment. 

“Your Bestness.” You smiled back, following him in and closing the door behind you to keep anyone else from seeing the depressing state of your new reality. 

The three quickly fanned out to survey your apartment.

"This is a .....nice place," Bernadette smiled too brightly as she circled a pile of boxes in the kitchen to flip on the tap water. You watched as it sputtered a few times before picking up into a yellow-ish stream. She quickly flipped it off, turning to face you and see if you had seen. Making eye contact, she shrugged. "That clears up." 

Bless her. She had to be the best friend to ever exist. Because if you were her, you totally would have hit her with an 'I told you so' by now.

Bernadette had warned you that an affordable single apartment was suspicious. That sometimes landlords blurred the neighborhood lines. That you may need to fix it up in order for it to even be considered a fixer-upper. Everything she warned you about was true.

You had thought you were going to Williamsburg. Instead you were in Bed-Stuy.

The picture on the listing must have been from like 10 years ago. Or maybe it was a neighbor's place. Or straight photoshopped. Because exposed brick was one thing but crumbling walls were another. 

Add to that the three locks on the door and the fact that you were eight hours away from pretty much everyone you knew and loved, and you were feeling super great about this life decision. 

"Does it?" you asked, making your way over to the living room area where about half of the floor seemed to have been ripped up. 

"Sure," Bernadette nodded, moving out of the kitchen. "And if it doesn't, that's what Brita is for." 

"You locked the truck, right?" Steve asked from where he stood by a window, staring out to the street below. 

"Stop, the neighborhood's not that bad," Bernadette waved at Steve. She made a show of rolling her eyes as she moved past you to open the door to your bedroom."You did lock the truck, right?" she paused to whisper in your ear. You hummed a yes and turned to follow her. 

The bedroom was less depressing than the rest of the apartment in the way Mount Everest was less dangerous than K2. It was still a fucking mountain.

"Interesting paint job," Bernadette remarked, staring at the wall which was half royal blue and half blood red. And not even artsy diagonal halves. No, of course not. Vertical halves. "I think I've seen something like this on Pinterest." 

You groaned. 

Bernadette tilted her head slightly, considering the room. "I think you probably have enough room to fit a twin and a dresser in here if you line them up against the wall." 

"It's terrible," you whined. "The whole place is a complete shithole."

Bernadette gave you a sad smile. "It's better than I thought it would be,"  she brushed past you, walking back  into the living room. 

"There's a random hole in the kitchen ceiling!" You flung an arm out gesturing vaguely towards the kitchen. 

"It could have been way worse. I was expecting it to be like a fourth of the size or for there to be a random dude you had to share it with. And anyway, Bucky's handy."

Your eyes flicked to Bucky, who was surveying the hole in the kitchen ceiling.

"You can't see into the apartment upstairs, so that's good," he commented and Steve snorted. Bernadette slipped off her shoe and chucked it at Bucky. He ducked, and it hit the wall of the kitchen, knocking loose part of the wall. 

Whatever. 

Bernadette winced. "Sorry," she apologized to you, meekly, shuffling across the apartment to retrieve the shoe from Bucky's outstretched hand. Taking the shoe, she whacked him in the arm with it. Bucky laughed again, making eye contact with you and shaking his head. You allowed a single exhale of amusement to escape you. But that was pretty much all the humor you had to spend on the situation.

"Do you have the keys to the truck?" Steve asked, and you nodded, patting your pockets before finding them and offering the small keychain to him.  "Alright, Buck," he nodded with his head towards the door, and Bucky moved around Bernadette, giving her a wide berth as he went to follow Steve. 

She started to follow when Steve stopped her.

"We got it. It's just the heavy stuff, right?" he asked you. 

You nodded. "Yeah, I got most of the boxes up before you came." 

"Are you saying we can't handle the heavy stuff? Did I secretly marry a misogynist?" Bernadette asked, putting her hands on her hips. 

Steve shook his head, smiling. "We need someone to watch the stuff up here since the door's going to be open." 

"Steve--" Bernadette started to protest again. You weren't sure if she was about to argue about her physical prowess or the apartment's safety, but regardless of the argument this eternal optimist wanted to make, you were fairly sure Steve was right.

"That'd be great, you can help me figure out where to put things as we unpack."

Bernie brightened at the prospect. "I'm glad you said that, because I already have some ideas." She turned back to face Bucky and Steve. 

"Bucky, make sure he doesn't overexert himself. I need him fully functional tonight." You hoped that everyone mixed the grimace that crossed your face. Steve blushed slightly, and leaned down to whisper something in Bernie's ear. A grin spread across her face, and you were very thankful Steve was not one of those people who couldn't whisper.

"Ah newlyweds," Bucky made eye contact with you again, and you couldn't read the look on his face. He seemed almost like he was waiting for you to get the punchline of a joke. Maybe if your brain was operating at all correctly, you would have gotten it. Instead, you snorted before turning to Bernadette.

"Kitchen should be easiest and least in the way, right?"

"As long as we get it done in time for Bucky to take a look at the ceiling. And the bit of wall he knocked off." 

You knew Bernadette well enough to see the red herring for what it was. You were not going to get distracted with holding her accountable for further destroying your shitty apartment.

"I'm not going to ask Bucky to fix my ceiling," you said, gathering the utensils out of the box and sticking them in a drawer by the stove. 

"It's not a big deal--" Bernie dismissed, crossing paths with you to take the utensils and stick them in one of the mason jars you'd already unpacked.

You shook your head, "It's weird to ask one of your friends to fix my ceiling--"

"He's your friend too," Bernadette argued, taking the napkins out of your hands and disappearing with them. 

"I've met him twice." 

Bernadette came back and rustled through the open boxes, the sound of glass clinking and metal shifting against each other in her wake."Yes, but the second time you spent four days practically attached to the hip with him." 

"Because he was the best man, and I was the maid of honor. It was our job to be attached at the hip and make sure everything went well."

"Was creating cute little nicknames part of the job as well?" Bernadette asked, pausing to pin you with a look.

"It's just an inside joke, and they're not that cute."

"Oh, they're pretty cute," Bernie smirked, bending back down to go through a box. "Where did you put your dish towels?" 

You stood up from your box, coming over to join her in looking through the box. "I mean he calls you Bernie."

"Everyone calls me Bernie now," Bernadette dismissed. "Besides he has two nicknames for you." 

"K is not a nickname. It's a taunt."

"You mean flirtatious teasing."

"I mean a jab at how I'm a shit texter."

Bernadette looked you dead in the eyes before shooting you what was probably supposed to be a sultry wink. " 'k." 

You threw the dish towels you'd just dislodged at her and she laughed, picking them back up from where they fell in the box, and moving over to the open drawer. "Setting aside the two nicknames and their quality, he volunteered to come help you. I don't think he'd mind taking a look." 

"Maybe," you conceded, knowing Bernadette wouldn't stop until she'd had some measure of success. It's what had to make her such a good law student. You had given in enough times on the promise of maybe that with a glint in her eye she dropped the subject.

It took Bucky and Steve a little over an hour to unload all of your things from the truck. It was another forty-five minutes of Bernadette reimagining the floor plan and forcing the four of you to continuously shuffle the furniture around before she was satisfied. When all was said and done, the apartment did look marginally better. At least some of the punched in outlets were hidden and the worst of the floor was covered.

"Well," Bernadette said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's it. You're officially a New Yorker." 

"And you can officially stop sending me those sketchy Craigslit ads and Monster listings," you nodded, placing your hands on your hips and surveying the apartment. 

"Neither of you are New Yorkers," Bucky shook his head, navigating the words around a hair-tie as he fixed his bun. Bernadette turned to glare at him, and he laughed, slipping the hair-tie around the bundle of hair.

"You married in. Doesn't count."

"Excuse you, I’m fluent in Subway Announcement and I’ve had a rat steal some of my food. If that doesn’t make me a New Yorker then I don’t know what does,” Bernadette huffed.

"You're a New Yorker," Steve soothed, putting an arm around her, and kissing the top of her head. 

"Well," you sighed, hoping to stop another bantering fight from breaking out between Bucky and Bernadette. "I need pizza. And beer. And to get out of this apartment. Anyone else?"

"Oh," Bernadette's face fell as she glanced quickly up at Steve and then at you. "I wish we could, but Steve and I have reservations. I wasn't even thinking when we made them, and it's such a long wait list…" she trailed off, frowning sympathetically "I'm so sorry, babe."

"I'm free," Bucky offered. "And I actually know a decent place that's not too far from here. Since I'm a real New Yorker." The jab effectively stopped the sly grin that was growing on Bernadette's face.

"I--"

"What line did we take to get here?" Bucky asked, and Bernadette sulked. "It just slipped out."

"It's a tourist mistake," Bucky shook his head, tsking. "The green line." 

"Well," Bernadette hmphed, "Steve and I are going to take the G train back home to get ready for dinner." She moved over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. "I will see you for lunch sometime soon because we can do that now that we live in the same city!" 

You smiled, and reached up to hug Steve as he bent down to say goodbye. 

"Bucky, please do not take my best friend to any godforsaken hole in the wall back alley pizza joint that's definitely just a front. I don't care how good their pizza is," Bernadette cut off his protest and he smiled, shaking his head. 

"You're missing out on all of the best food."

"Ok," Bernadette dismissed, her disbelief dripping from each syllable. She took Steve by the hand, and you and Bucky walked them to the door. "Love you both." And with that, Bernadette and Steve were gone, leaving you alone in your apartment with Bucky. 

He sighed, running a hand through the roots of his hair, despite the fact that it messed up his perfectly done man bun. 

"You don't have to get pizza with me," you said, flashing a quick smile at him. 

"Trying to get rid of me?" Bucky asked, looking down at you amused. 

You shook your head, turning away from him quickly to try to locate your purse amongst the boxes. "No, I just--didn't want you to just come along to be nice. Or because you felt bad that Bernadette ditched so I'm all alone."

"How could I feel bad when you put it like that?" 

"I didn't mean it like--" you started, stuttering and Bucky stopped you, coming up beside you with your purse hanging from his finger. 

"I know. Just rest assured that I'm happy to put up with you for pizza." 

You snatched the purse from him, slinging it across your body as Bucky laughed at you. "Ready?" 

You nodded and the two of you headed out the door.

For all of the inconveniences and tragedies that had befallen you today, the walk to the pizza place was not one of them. In fact, second to seeing Bernadette at your door, it was probably the best part of the entire day. The walk was short, and the September evening air was pleasantly warm. With Bucky and his MMA fighter build next to you, navigating through the neighborhood didn't wrack your nerves as much as it could have. Although, it might not have been Bucky's muscles as much as his easy conversation that provided the comfort. He told you about his job, where to find the best bodegas, and one embarrassing story of Steve growing up. By the time you arrived at Tony's Pizza Spot, you had almost forgotten about how awful your day was.

"Hey Tony," Bucky called out, entering the place, and the owner looked up from where he was cutting a pizza. He jerked his head up in a nod. It was a small wood paneled shop with no tables or counters to sit at. Instead, there was one large display case with different meats and breads. You looked up at the simple menu, and Bucky stood closely next to you despite the fact that you had a feeling he didn't need to look at the offerings.

"Pepperoni and sausage ok?" Bucky asked, and you nodded, scanning the drink refrigerators for any sight of beer. "And for your milkshake?"

You raised your eyebrows at him. "I'm getting a milkshake?"

"You are," he nodded. 

"Well," you looked up at the board. "Cherry vanilla." 

"Excellent choice," Bucky smiled, approaching the counter as Tony tied off the pizza box with twine and then approached. 

"What can I getcha?" he asked his eyes flicking between you and Bucky. 

Bucky placed the order quickly, and Tony nodded, quickly tallying it up on the register. You reached into your purse for your wallet, but Bucky waved you off. "I got this."

"Pretty sure it's customary for the person who just subjected you to two hours of moving stuff to pay for the pizza. "

"Nah," Bucky shook his head, already handing the cash over to Tony."Think of it as a housewarming gift." 

"Just moved to the neighborhood?" Tony asked, passing back Bucky his change, and you nodded. "Welcome." 

"She's right down the street," Bucky said, dumping the change into the tip jar and stuffing the bills back into his pocket. "Figured I'd show her the best pizza spot in town."

"Damn right," Tony grinned, moving away to grab out an already prepped cheese pizza.. "How's Clint doin'? Didn't see him last week."

Bucky shook his head. "Broke his wrist last week, so Kate's placed him under house arrest to make sure he doesn't make it worse like last time. I'm guessing one of them will be in soon." 

Tony had the same look of exasperation as Bucky as he ladeled sauce onto the pizza. "It's always something with him. Broken bones. Concussion. That boy's a walking accident."

You sorted through your memories trying to remember if you had met Clint at the wedding or either of the times you had been up to visit Bernadette at school. The name sounded familiar enough, but you couldn't picture the face. If Bernadette was here she could jog your memory. She'd remind you who Clint was give you a few facts about his life and a quick story so you felt like you knew him already. But she wasn't here. She was off being married, and you were in this tiny pizza shop with a boy you hardly knew who was doing his best to keep you company.

"You ok?" Bucky bumped shoulders with you. You hadn't realized their conversation ended and Tony had moved away to make the milkshakes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you shook your head trying to clear your thoughts. 

Bucky shot you a very disbelieving look. "I can't tell if you're a bad liar or just too tired to try to be good at it."

Your shoulders dropped. Frankly, it was both. "It's nothing...it's stupid," you dismissed.

"Bummed you're stuck here with me instead of Bernie?" Bucky guessed. Very correctly. 

"No," you sighed.  "I just wish she was here too."

"Yeah, I get it," Bucky nodded, facing back forward to watch Tony making the milkshakes. 

You felt bad. After all, Bucky had volunteered to give up his Monday evening to helping you move in. He probably had a whole list of things he'd rather do after work than lug a bookshelf up your stairs, but he'd done it, hadn't complained, and then treated you to pizza. And here you were wishing he was Bernadette. 

"It was kind of rude of your best friend to steal my best friend," you commented with a half smile.

Bucky snorted. "Sorry, your honor, but your best friend stole my best friend."

"What?"

Bucky looked back down at you. "You weren't there. He was gone long before she was. Pretty much the second he met her  it was over for him."

"What, and you were there the second they met?" you sassed back, placing your hands on your hips. 

"Actually, yes," Bucky said, reaching forward to grab a milkshake Tony placed up on the counter. He peered into the top of the cup and passed it over to you. "Steve volunteered both of our services to move in Bernie's stuff."

"I didn't realize you were there," you said, accepting the dessert from Bucky.  "She only ever mentioned Steve."

"Maybe he did steal her away fairly instantly then." Bucky shrugged. "Anyway, you realize there's only one solution to our problem, right?"

You gave him a flat look. "I'm not going to kill them."

"Holy shit, no," Bucky laughed. "That's where you went first?" Your face heated up, and you quickly busied yourself with a sip of the milkshake which was very good. Better than alcohol good. "And?" Bucky asked. 

"It's delicious," you said, returning for another sip before looking back at him. "But what's the solution?"

"We'll be best friends."

"You want to be my best friend?" you asked, with a small smile.

"More like I want you to be my best friend," Bucky said. "Steve's been doing a shit job recently, and you moved all the way from North Carolina to be with Bernie--I like that kind of effort." 

You laughed, and Bucky grinned back, taking his milkshake from off the counter.

"Alright," you agreed, feeling a little bit lighter. "I'm not replacing Bernadette though. You'll just have to be the substitute for when she's not up to par."

"I can work with that," Bucky nodded. "And as my first act as your substitute best friend is to demand to throw you a housewarming party. Don't make plans for next Saturday."

The smile slid off of your face. "No, thank you.  I don't want anyone walking into my trap house apartment."

"Your apartment is not that bad."

"Bucky. It's terrible."

"Your Honor, Steve and I shared a glorified closet for our entire sophomore year of college. We couldn't both stand in our kitchen." Bucky leveled you a glance. "And our friends still came over to visit us."

You mulled it over, stirring your milkshake with the straw. It wasn't a terrible idea. It was bad,, uncomfortable, ill-thought out, and overall not good, but it wasn't terrible. You nodded. "Alright, Your Bestness. Saturday."

"Excellent," Bucky grinned, grabbing the box Tony slid across the counter. "We'll discuss details over pizza." 

Masterlist

[sp00kworm]

Butterfly

Pairing: Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull x Female Reader

Warnings: Slasher horror and gore

A/N: This fic is blocked from the tags but please enjoy! Reblogs are always appreciated. Gif is by me.

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His home was lonely. Jesse looked at the clock, his eyes burning with the need to sleep, but his mind racing. It was late. Approaching eleven o’clock. He’d had to work today. His company didn’t run itself, and there was a lot of accounting and management to do outside of his little hobby. Jesse looked away from the clock and stretched his jaw, the bone clicking from where he was cracked around the face with the bat. The bone had healed rather easily, but it hurt from time to time. His face, that was mauled. He wasn’t the stud he used to be. Handsome, a straight jaw and high cheekbones. Cynically, he snorted at the picture on the mantle he had of him and his late wife. Mrs Cromeans clutched at his arm at some high-class party, her red lips spread in a smile to match Jesse’s smirk. The second was him kissing at her cheek as she pushed him away. Sentimental. He was feeling sentimental. He didn’t hate his wife. She was convenient. A life outside of his hobby. Pretty. He didn’t even know she was pregnant. The police informant he had revealed the death report tentatively to him. The unborn child inside her wasn’t old enough to be saved. An accident he never expected to occur. He’d been gone nearly 4 months, and she was pregnant. He didn’t remember a message, but then he tended to let Spann handle such things. He probably ignored it. Jesse stood from his black leather couch and walked to the mantle.

He took the picture in his hand. His face was partially cut off, the camera focused on his wife and her smile. Jesse looked at it before he leaned over and threw it on the fire. The glass shattered with the force of hitting the logs and the frame quickly burst into flames, black paint peeling off the wood as it crackled and snapped. The photos disappeared into curling pieces of charcoal and he watched the frame burn with a certain amount of upset. Sentiment, he reminded himself, as he pushed himself away from the mantlepiece and touched the tattoo on his chest. The shaded skull stared back at him with hollow eyes. It was a reminder of the urges he had. With a sigh, he touched at his arms and traced the patterns of screaming, swirling ghouls all the way down to his wrist before daring to stand up a little bit straighter. He reached for the laptop of his coffee table and opened a chat window with Spann. It took a moment for the secure connection to open properly.

 Spann’s face appeared in the bottom corner, her tired eyes looking at him through the camera. She was still sat in the office, but she gave him a smile, “What can I do for you, Sir?” She asked as she shuffled the paperwork away.

Jesse made sure his face was out of frame, ‘Make sure there is a clean-up crew on standby.’

Spann peered at the text, “Of course, Sir. Where are you heading out to?” She asked curiously as her fingers whipped across the keyboard lightning fast, “You’ve been in Hollywood for a while now, have you finally taken a fancy to someone? You’ve not been as active as you once were.” She smiled, sickly sweet and twisted, just like she always did.

‘Just have the crew ready. I will text if I find something.’

“Of course. Have fun, Sir.” Spann nodded and he closed the chat window before disconnecting from all the rerouting services and opening the internet to have a look for a bar that suited his fancy. Something exclusive so he didn’t have to sit and be gawked at by people that could well lose their eyes. His good eye roved the names of bars before he spotted a club. He recognised the name. A mob boss run thing, he was sure, but it would mean he didn’t get stared at with a knife on his hip underneath his jacket. Perfect. Jesse snapped his laptop closed and headed upstairs for a shower and to get appropriately dressed up.

 The hot water eased his sore back, but it hurt on the sensitive skin of his face. He covered his face with a hand to his forehead as he washed the smell and aches from himself. The soap was sensitive, and he carefully washed his face, making sure to get around his eyes, to avoid any form of gunky infections. Those had been hell when he was laid in the hospital bed recovering. Still, a great deal of more work on his face this past year had made him far more recognisable, but it wasn’t the same. He was still scarred and twisted, his nose looking rather out of place. He ran a finger over the rougher skin, where the scaring was worst, tracing back over his forehead from his eyebrow. They had managed to graft new muscle and replace areas that were damaged. He felt more human now, but nothing would ever replace how he used to appear. Still, Jesse had paid good money for his better face, and he would be damned if he didn’t use it a little. He turned off the shower and dripped in the wet room for a moment before he wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled his razor out to sheer the hair from his head. It was therapeutic. Jesse leaned over the water to catch the hair on the back of his head before he held his jaw and angled the mirror to check his face. Nothing grew anymore, but that didn’t stop him checking.

 He turned the mirror to his face and stroked the newly constructed nose. It had been four months of healing this time around. Plastic surgery galore. He’d had mountains of work since his run in with Princess’ little friend. He almost resembled a person. Still, he was scarred, and his eyebrows no longer grew hair along with his jaw. He was still blind in one eye, the brown eye cloudy. Jesse plucked his eyepatch from the shelf and replaced it before brushing his perfect teeth. He had paid too much money for most of himself to neglect it. He towelled himself off and walked from the bathroom to his room, stark naked, stretching his back before he plucked out his designer black shirt, trousers, and jacket. Once he was dressed, he pulled on his oxfords and pulled his case from underneath the floorboards. Jesse undid the latches and peered inside. The chrome skull stared back at him, along with the polished knives he used to remove pieces of his victims. The box of gloves sat nestled in the top corner but he didn’t put any on for the time being, letting his tattooed hands breathe. He pushed his fists together and looked at the two words. The words ‘FEAR’ and ‘PAIN’ looked back at him. With a final adjustment of his cufflinks, he took his wallet from the nightstand and left his house, activating the alarm and locking the door before he opened his Chrysler 300 and slid into the roomy interior. The engine roared to life before he pulled away from the drive. Jesse rolled down the tinted window before he pushed his middle finger out of it, flagging the neighbours who glared at him from their windows.

 The bar was half of a club with the back for exclusive clients, which ranged from those involved in mob work, to celebrities. Jesse tugged at the breast of his jacket as he let the eager doorman take his car around the back. He stopped him with a finger in the air and he unlocked his phone and typed into the speech app.

‘Open the trunk or my glovebox and I’ll have your fingers, bellboy.’

“Yes, Sir.” He swallowed as he climbed into the Chrysler, pulling it away smoothly into the back of the club. Jesse looked around, his silver mask shining in the gaudy lighting. The mob knew him. He was the one who moved the weapons through his shelter companies. He took care of some of their business, butchering people like pigs for them when they took his fancy, and in, exchange, they let him have his pick of their girls for his games. He stepped through the door and a bouncer waved at him from the curtain separating the areas. The bar went around both sides, but no one could see through the curtains. Jesse walked through the bar, passing a group of women in lingerie as the bouncer let him through the other side.

“Good to see you again.” He grunted, looking up at the man as he drew out his phone.

‘Did you miss me?’ Jesse snarked through the automatic voice.

“You’re hardly any trouble.” He tipped his head towards a booth, “Make yourself at home.”

Jesse walked past him and headed for his table, pulling the curtains back before he placed his briefcase down and slid inside, sighing with the low lighting. He relaxed back against the cushions and reached for the mask over his face. With a hum, he pushed his thumbs into the mild adhesive and plucked the piece of chrome free with a twist underneath his chin in order to apply a new layer.

 It was quiet at this side of the bar, the curtains blocking out a lot of the noise and the people that he didn’t want to look at. Exclusive. Jesse ran his fingers over the leather of the couch and hummed at the quality before he tucked his case beside him. The knife strapped beneath his jacket wasn’t going to cause any problems here. Jesse pulled the case around and listened as the curtains rustled beside him. He was used to this. The silver skull turned to face the red fabric and Jesse lounged back on his seat as it parted to reveal the curious face of the bartender. He smiled behind his mask at the professional wear, a shirt and bowtie on. His eyes roved lower behind the black material over his eyes, looking at the short skirt attached. Perfect. He greedily took in the sight, laid back against the cushioning, and slid his phone from his pocket.

 You nervously parted the curtains of the exclusive booth and poked your head inside. Great, you thought as you slid the notebook from your pocket, holding your pen in your hand as you tried not to stare at the silver mask leering ominously back at you. His head dipped to look at your legs, admiring the view.

“What can I get you, Sir.” You asked, pen poised to write on the paper, “Any food or are you just drinking?”

The man in the mask didn’t respond, but his fingers whizzed across the keyboard of the phone, typing out something across the screen. He turned the screen to show you the words, ‘Drink. A bottle of bourbon. The one at six hundred.’

“Okay. Do you want a glass and ice?” You asked carefully, watching as he tilted his masked face.

His fingers clicked rapidly across the keyboard again, ‘Two ice cubes. Crystal tumbler.’

You had his sort before, “Of course, Sir.” You ducked back out and replaced the curtains before you headed back towards the bar to grab the expensive, six-hundred-dollar bottle of bourbon whiskey.

 Jesse watched you through a small parting in the curtain, eyes following your backside as you returned to your colleague at the bar. He made sure to drop the curtain back into place as you turned from the bar and headed back towards him.

 “Your drink, and your glass.” You placed the bottle and the tumbler down in front of the chrome-faced man and watched his tattooed fingers twitch against the leather as he leaned over to inspect what you had brought him.

Lazily, he took hold of the bottle neck, and peered at the label before he nodded and typed rapidly on the phone again, ‘Thanks. Run along, Piggy.’

You nodded and left his booth alone, catching a glimpse of tattooed hands pouring a drink as the red curtain closed behind you.

“Rude asshole.” You muttered under your breath as you headed back towards the bar, where you were needed on the other side, with the normal clientele of the bar. They were perhaps worse than the questionable celebrities and mobsters of the exclusive side, but you could cope with serving the sex workers and incredibly drunk men.

 Joe gave you a look of concern as you came back through the curtain. He was an old man and had worked at the bar since he was young. He knew the sorts that tended to frequent the establishment. He leaned over towards you as you threw some glasses in the box for cleaning.

“Don’t fuck with that one.” He whispered, “The Boss doesn’t like him here, but he puts up with it. Rumour is he’s a bit of a knife for hire. Tends to get those jobs that required someone gutting for a video.” Joe scowled and rubbed at his moustache, “Stay far away and keep him happy with drinks.”

“Thanks, Joe.” You uttered before you served a beer, “What’s with the mask?”

Joe shook his head, “Best not to ask.” He then left you alone as you pulled pints of beer for a group. It wasn’t long before you swapped again into the back, smiling as you peered at the booths. You frowned as the curtain to the stranger’s flickered and he waved his hand before he curled his finger towards himself and pushed the phone through.

“Come here.” The automated voice called ominously, and you took a deep breath before you opened the bar door and headed towards the booth again, your notepad in hand. You parted the curtain and smiled at the mysterious man.

 What you saw shocked you a little. He’d taken the mask off, revealing his scarred face to you. You tried not to stare, you really did. Awkwardly, you maintained the smile as he stared up at you, brown eyes dark as though he was daring you to say a word. One was covered with an eyepatch.

The phone clicked away before the screen was presented, ‘Entertain me.’ The voice was absent this time.

You read the words and frowned, “I can offer you a food menu or a different drink, Sir.” You replied quietly, dreading the next words that were going to come out of his mouth, “Unfortunately we don’t have any live music…and other options are not in my job description.”

Tattooed fingers curled against the leather before he grinned, exposing, bright, white teeth in a vicious smile. His chest jumped before he gave out a breathy, long chuckle. He curled his finger again for you to properly step into the booth.

He typed on the phone again before holding it up for you to see, ‘I don’t want you to suck my cock. Sit. Talk.’

Suddenly, you felt a little bit stupid, “Talk? What about?” You were still suspicious of the man.

‘Your boss. He owes me something. I want to know more.’ He turned the phone back to himself and typed again, ‘Ever mention ChromeSkull?’

 Suddenly, you realised who he was. The personalised plates out the back of the bar, and the chromed mask in his lap. This was a dangerous man. Still, he was very capable of ending you now, with no one there to see.

“He doesn’t talk about business in the bar.” You swallowed nervously, “He only said he hoped he never saw your face in here again.” Your gut dropped as you realised either way, you might die.

‘Thanks, sweet thing.’ He typed and showed you before continuing, ‘Call me Jesse.’ You watched his face smile again and suddenly you realised that once he was very handsome. It looked like acid or chemical burn scarring. The mob liked to disfigure people as pay back sometimes, but you had an inkling his weren’t inflicted by the mafia.

‘What’s your name?’ He pushed the screen before your eyes as his fingers danced over the leather.

You cleared your throat and told him, “So are you here for payback?”

‘Something like that.’ He replied on screen, ‘Better company this time.’

Flattering but you still wanted out of the conversation. There wasn’t an opportunity to, however, because as you stood up to straighten yourself out, your boss walked into the booth.

 Judgemental eyes roved you up and down, spotting you playing with your skirt. Jesse was quick to turn and replaced his mask, before your boss could see, the medical adhesive painted along the seams and the area of his nose. He turned back to look at Antony, the owner, with the haunting black eyes of the chrome skull mask peering through him.

“Making yourself at home with my staff?” Antony shot as he pulled a cigarette from between his lips, his face twisted with a glare, “Pretty sure you’re not welcome here anymore.” He dragged a hand through his slicked back, brown hair and snarled viciously before he returned the cigarette to his lips for another nervous drag.

Jesse’s mask tilted before he pointed a finger through the curtains and let the automated voice speak for him, “Justin had no issue letting me in, Antony.” He continued, “Plus, you owe me.”

“If this is about that fucking weapons crate again. I swear to God I didn’t know it was rigged to blow.” He dragged on his cigarette again.

“You lost me a factory, Antony.” The automatic voice droned hauntingly, “And I still haven’t had the compensation.”

“You’ll get your money, shit face.” Antony’s hand twitched for his jacket.

 You panicked as Antony took a seat across from Jesse, his fingers steepled under his chin. It was tense, and you began to panic as Jesse loomed over in the man’s personal space. He was a giant, solid wall of power, and you instinctively took a step back.

Antony clicked at you, “Drinks. Pour them. One for our guest here too.” You nodded and dashed for another glass for Antony before shakily taking the bottle in your hand and pouring both of them shots.

Jesse ignored the drink as he took his silver briefcase and slammed it on top of the table. The wood shuddered under the force of the blow and you jumped as he snapped open the clips.

“Put your fucking knives away, Cromeans.” Antony scoffed.

Jesse slid his first, sharp hunting knife free from his hip and you swallowed as he took a camera from the case. The device had a stand that clipped to his shoulder and he snapped the little tripod on before tapping the top. A red light blinked on. Recording.

“Oh, so you’ve come for something to play with?” Antony laughed, “There’s a toy stood right next to you. Be my fucking guest!” He exclaimed.

 You gave a squeak as Jesse’s large hands grappled you by the waist, dragging you into his lap, your legs pinned between his own as he breathed down your neck. He trapped you as he reached for the box of black nitriles in his case. Methodically, he peeled one free at a time and tugged them over the black tattoos covering his hands. The black nitrile traced the edge of one knife before he span it once, twice, and then placed the edge of the blade against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat at the cold press of metal against your soft skin. His other hand trailed over the skin, his hot breath tickling your ear before he swiped the knife up and dragged the sharp side through your hair. You listened to him inhale before, tauntingly, he made a kissing noise next to your ear. The blade was replaced against your throat as he typed on the phone once more.

“I catch my own fish.” The voice droned before Jesse shook the phone teasingly in front of you, showing you the text he had typed out, ‘Though I don’t think I want to play with you, piggy. You’re too much of a deer.’

Antony scowled, “What the fuck does that mean…” He howled in agony as Jesse flicked the blade around again and slammed it through his hand. The fingers twitched before he drew his other knife and sliced the appendages free, pinning you in place with his legs as he watched blood spurt over the wood.

 Shock. You felt your heart burn as you wiggled backwards, closer to the killer’s chest before he peeled you free from his lap and dropped you back into the booth. Gruffly, Jesse slammed his bloodied hand over Antony’s mouth.

‘This piggy should have stayed home.’ His phone droned, again and again as the giant stood up, touching the tip of the hunting knife as he admired the shine of blood over the cold steel. With another flourish, he turned the saw half downwards and wrestled Antony over the wood, pinning him with a slam of his head before he dragged the saw downwards and watched skin and muscle part. He paused when Antony passed out and left the knife embedded in the man’s wrist as he looked back at you.

‘Look away.’ He typed with his clean hand. You did as you were asked, fear making you want to cry. He sawed the hand free and looked at the hand left, pinned to the table before he pealed his gloves free and brushed the bottom of your chin.

 “Look alive, sunshine.” The voice chittered, “Get moving.” It continued.

You opened your eyes and Jesse was quick to turn you away from the mess over the table.

“Up. Walk. Back exit.” The phone said. With a shuddering sigh, you got up. Jesse’s mask tilted before he offered his arm. You hooked your arm through his and almost cried as he shut the curtains and blocked you from the view of the other bar staff with his towering figure. His video was still recording.

“Why did you…” You were cut off by a sharp grip.

Jesse didn’t speak until you were both outside, his keys in one hand, snatched from the storage and  his phone held up to you in the other, “I taught them a lesson. They don’t fuck with me and get away with it.” He offered before he dragged you over to his car. You looked at the custom plates and the expensive brand. He laid his briefcase on the bonnet and sighed as he peeled free the chrome covered mask. Beneath was the same as before, heavily operated on with taught skin. A few scars were deep and heavy. His eye that was previously covered with an eyepatch was open, revealing itself as almost blind, the brown iris milky and covered. Still, he wasn’t a monster, just disfigured and evidently, through all the surgery, unhappy about what had occurred.

 “Staring is rude.” The phone whirred, “Should be staring elsewhere, sugar tits.”

You felt yourself go red, “You just killed a man! You don’t have any right to flirt with me after you just made me an accessory to murder!” You flew off the handle, “And now you’re taking me out back to end me too!”

Jesse grinned, white teeth clenched together dangerously as his knife curled and span idly, looking you up and down. He held up the phone nonchalantly, “No I’m not. I’m taking you home.”

“You…You’re joking.” You took a step backwards only for him to grab you once again, breathing in the smell of your hair as his knife traced down your chest. With a flick of his wrist he popped a button off your shirt.

His phone appeared in front of you again, ‘Home address.’

You swallowed and repeated your address for him quietly. He hummed behind you, the knife disappearing before he turned you to face him. His face dipped down to meet yours as he laid a single kiss over your lips.

‘Let’s go for a ride, baby.’

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Managed: Part 3

Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader (Henry Cavill Clark)

Warnings: Maybe swearing

Word Count: 2,777

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

Part 1 / Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OK, hold the fuck on.” Your best friend from work, Sarah, said as she waited patiently for you to safely enter your currently room temperature hot tub to cool off on your first hot day of spring. “You’re the one dating Clark Kent?! Tall, drop dead gorgeous, hasn’t looked at a single woman since he started at Blue Ridge to the point we were starting to think he was gay, Clark Kent?”

“People thought he was gay?” You asked with a huffed laugh as you sat down in your favorite spot.

“I mean, have you seen how he dresses?” She asked as she got in and sat across from you. “Those tight shirts?”

“So that makes him gay?!” You laughed as you wrapped your ponytail into a bun and secured it with the hair tie on your wrist.

“OK, not exclusively.” She laughed as she hit the display panel and turned on her jets. “It’s all talk, you know. That’s all. He’s just never showed interest in getting to know people and he’s never once mentioned a significant other to anyone... you know how usually that shit just kinda slips out in passing. I don’t know, it’s just an observation.”

“Well now that it’s out, it’s spreading like wildfire. Everyone seems to know now.”

“That’s the fun part of working at Blue Ridge.” She said over the sound of your jets starting up. “Everybody is in everybody else’s business. I’m just surprised that y’all were able to keep it a secret as long as you did.”

“It was more out of fear than anything else.” You started as you looked over at the familiar rumble of a pick up truck and its tires coming up your gravel drive. “He was worried about my job, I was worried about his. Now that people know, it’s like a weight has been lifted off our shoulders.”

“Is that his truck?” You nodded your head and turned the slightest bit to yell at Clark that you were down stairs when he got out of his truck. “Does he live here?”

“We go back and forth between here and his place. We have been slowly starting to throw around the idea of getting a place but it’s still just pillow talk.”

“I swear, you live in that hot tub.” Clark teased as he walked through the side fence.

“Sue me, I’m a mermaid.”

“Got that right.” He chuckled as he came into the screened in porch. “Hello, Sarah.”

“How’s it going, boss man.” She teased. “Or is it baby daddy now?”

“Clark still works just fine.” He laughed as he leaned over the side to kiss your forehead. “I’m gunna go shower and wash this day off me and thank God we have the next two days off.”

“For doctors appointments.” You pointed out. “So many doctors appointments.” With a nod of his head, he said good bye to Sarah and headed inside, while your friend simply shook her head at you.

“Luckiest bitch in the world.” She muttered when she was sure the down stairs door to your house was closed.

“I know.” You laughed with a shrug as you stretched your legs out under the water and got even more comfortable in front of your jets. “He’s a heaven sent angel for sure. That man has the patience of a saint to put up with all my crazy.”

“Yea, and we both know how much crazy that is.” She laughed, which made you pout and splash some water in her direction.

“I’m serious though. He puts up with me and helps me not spiral out of control better than my own mother can. I seriously have no idea how or why he has stuck around this long...”

“Because you are worth it, (Y/N). You are worth this happiness I can actually see in your eyes. You deserve to be happy just like the rest of us... well, not me. I’m a piece of shit.”

“And you have Larry.” You pointed out as you turned in your chair to grab your bottle of water off the side.

“Two fucked up sides to the same coin.” She laughed, whole heartedly. “God, I love that man. Pain in my ass, and I definitely don’t deserve him, but I love him for loving me all the same. We should all grab dinner sometime. Like a...”

“If you say ‘double date’ to me right now, I will drown you, pregnant or not.”

“Spoil sport.”

——

“So I’ve been thinking...”

“Oh that’s a dangerous thing to do.” Clark teased as he got ready for bed later that night.

“Maybe it’s time to revisit us moving in together and buying a house.” Your boyfriend actually froze half way through taking his under shirt off and stared at you as you looked away from your Facebook feed and up at him through your lashes. “Save money before the baby comes and all.”

“So you wanna buy a house to save money.” He laughed as he took off his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket. “What brought this on?”

“Well.” You breathed as you turned off your phone screen and rolled over onto your side to face him. “Sarah asked if we were living together when she saw you pull up and I told her we were just talking about it, but the only reason I have been hesitant about it was because of work but since work knows, there really isn’t an issue anymore so there isn’t any reason not to now, right?” He nodded his head slowly as he put his folded jeans on his dresser for the morning and sat down on his side of the bed facing you.

“You know that I have wanted to move in with you for months.” He started as he reached out to put his hand on your hip. “So I am beyond excited at the idea of this actually happening. But I want to make sure that you are ready for this and not just jumping into it because you think its gunna make other people happy.”

“No, I know.” You agreed as you scooted forward so you were a little closer to him. “I have wanted to live with you since you asked me to. I know it’s a big step and yes, its already stressing me out, but I know that at the end of it all, I will be with you. And that’s all I want. I just want to be with you. You make me so happy, more than I’ll ever deserve. And I know that it’s time to take the next step in our lives together. Besides that, we can’t really start our family living in two different houses, one of which is with my mother...”

“OK, well that is another thing we need to discuss.” He said as he leaned over so that he was propped up on the bed behind you with his elbow but still partially laying on your legs. “Because I already know you well enough to know that your mother is a big part of your support group and moving you too far away from her isn’t going to work for both of your sakes. She needs you as much as you need her...”

“OK...”

“And there aren’t many properties in this area for sale right now. Trust me, I’ve been keeping an eye on it for a few months.”

“Of course you have.” You giggled as you propped yourself up on your hand to see him a little better.

“But, there are two different plots of land, one across the street and one a little ways up the road that are up for sale and are pretty cheap. We could possibly build a house...”

“We could... And there’s also the bottom of mom’s property...”

“What, in her yard?”

“No, the neighbor’s old garden.” You replied a you gestured in that direction. “Mom made that comment when we first moved up here, of me possibly building down there so she’s a little less alone on the mountain. If that’s not too crazy of an idea to you, we could talk to her and see if she’s still ok with something like that and maybe see if she would sell us that land. Maybe, I don’t know...”

“Honestly, knowing you as well as I do, that would be the best case scenario here.” He agreed.

“That’s not weird for you?” He smirked and shook his head as he moved his hand enough to rub your back.

“Baby, I love you. And I know that family is important to you. I knew a long time ago that we’d be living near your mother and I don’t have an issue with that now, like I didn’t when I realized that. I like your mom, she’s funny...”

“Oh, don’t ever let her hear you say that.” You laughed as you reached down to run your fingers through his dark curls.

“And I know she respects boundaries enough that it’s not going to turn into an ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’ situation. But we need to talk to her. And we need to really think about this and make sure building a house is something we wanna do right now. It takes a while to do, and there’s a chance, even if we start on Monday with talking to the city and getting the ball rolling, we might not be in the house before the baby is born... You’ve stopped listening, haven’t you?”

“No, I’m hearing you.” You said through your giant smile. 

“No you’re not.” He laughed as he sat up and gave you a chaste kiss. “We’ll talk to mom after your morning appointment.”

“You’re way to good to me.” You sighed as he got up to brush his teeth for bed.

“I’m just treating you like you deserve, sweetheart. That’s all.”

——

“OK, scale of one to ten.” Clark said behind you as you walked through your almost finished house, making sure all the details were exactly right like you did every night you got home from work. “How badly do you crave a trip to Disney?” You stopped and looked back at him before gesturing to the Disney character drawer pulls that you had put on the drawers of the dressers in your closet, and the Star Wars ones in your bathroom.

“Really?” You asked as you gestured toward the guest bathroom, that was going to be finished to look like the hallway in the Haunted Mansion, and the stacks of boxes in the master bedroom behind him of the collection of Disney things the pair of you had collected over the years. “Really?”

“So like a four?”

“Like a ten million.”

“Enough to wanna go on a short baby moon in a few weeks?”

“Is that why I was approved for my paid time off days that I never requested off?” You giggled as you turned turned back to the closet to look at the painting that got finished in there today. He laughed whole heartedly behind you and nodded his head behind your back.

“I thought I beat the response on that and we gotta use them anyways or we lose them. Hey...” You paused your inspection and turned around with your hands on your bump and your back, and he smiled and pulled you toward him by your shirt. “Let’s go to Disney for a bit. The house is close to being done, you haven’t found a single issue with it in the the last seven months, and I think we should just relax for a few days while we still can. Before Wendy comes...”

“Her name is Evangeline.” You countered with a smile. “The sooner you accept that...”

“Yea, yea, yea.” He chuckled, knowing that your daughter’s name was going to be Evangeline (since he picked it out in the first place), but just wanting to pick on you to see the cute annoyed face you gave him every time. “I’m still partial to Tegan...”

“Then you shouldn’t have given me Evangeline.” You said in a sing song voice as you turned to head back up to your mom’s place for dinner, since your kitchen was not even close to being finished yet. “It’s all your fault.”

“You haven’t given me an answer, sweetheart.”

“Why do we have to wait a few weeks to go?” You asked as you stepped over some boxes of flooring that was waiting to go in your kitchen once the island was installed.

“Because that’s the way it works.” He countered as he helped you squeeze between all of the  cabinets for the kitchen and the bathrooms that were going up later that week when the painters were done. “That’s when I could get a site at Fort Wilderness so we can use your mom’s camper to save us some money...”

“Wait, how are we affording Disney right now? We have so much money tied up in the build...?”

“I still know people working at Disney, sweetheart. So I called in a few favors from people who were more than happy to spare some tickets, let us use their discounts, and spread a little pixie dust on two expecting Disney fanatics.”

“Ok, but even still, it’s gunna cost us...” You tried as you stepped out the front door on to the porch.

“Let me worry about that.” Clark interrupted as he locked the door and you turned back to face him.

“You can’t keep doing that.” You said softly with a shake of your head. “You can’t shut me down when it comes to money anymore. I understand you want to give me the world and you don’t want me to ever have to worry, but that’s not how this works. We’re building a house, and starting a family, Clark. And you can’t take on that financial responsibility alone no matter how long you have saved up for it. You’re not the only one who has. But you have to let me... please. Because otherwise, I will keep canceling orders on things like the paint, and those drawer knobs, and these rocking chairs and rebuying them on my name, on my cards...”

“I was wondering how I had more money in my account than I should have.” He sighed as he sat down on one of the two rockers and gestured for you to sit down as well. “I don’t like it...”

“You don’t have to like it.” You grumbled as you sort of just flopped down after a long day on your feet. “Just like I don’t have to like growing a child. We still gotta do it though.” With one more sigh, he nodded and sat back in his chair.

“I’ve had money for the house for years. Evangeline is throwing me for a bit of a loop, but I um... well I opened another credit card and it’s covering her expenses...”

“Clark, you didn’t have to do that.” You sighed as you leaned to the side the slightest bit to reach out for his hand. “Because you’re not the only one saving money here. And there’s no point in me saving money just for it to gain interest in a bank when it could be used to help us better ourselves by... oh I don’t know, buying a crib and diapers and cute little dresses and sweaters and little baby booties. It can buy those towels I love for the guest bathroom, which, by the way, it already has and they will be delivered on Tuesday.”

“I thought you changed your mind on those and that’s why they were canceled.”

“Nope, just repurchased.” You clarified as you sat back to rock yourself back and forth.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He said softly after a few moments. “It’s just... hard. I was raised to be the man of the house and that leaves me with the burden.”

“And if that’s the case, then I’ll stay at home and parent. But either way, I still have money saved that can help us out here, OK? Money for a house, and a wedding. May even be able to afford a trip to Disney and the baby I’m growing, too. So you are not allowed to take on the burden of our life together alone anymore. Or you can sleep in my mom’s basement while I enjoy our house with Evangeline all by ourselves.”

“Alright, fine. You win.” He breathed with a nod. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, right?”

“Oh, don’t you know it.” You giggled as you stood up to head home. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

[amukmuk]

3 or 46 for foxiyo, for the writing prompt thing, if that's alright?

Of course!! Thank you so much @flyawaybluebirdie for sending a prompt! I actually ended up combining them because I love a challenge. 

For the Prompts Touch & Blanket | Ao3

One

Fox stands at the landing pad, ready to welcome yet another freshly elected senator. As if he doesn’t have enough to do as it is, he also serves as the resident tour guide for all the shiny senators. Beneath his bucket, he rolls his eyes.

As the ramp lowers on the Pantoran ship, Senator Riyo Chuchi appears. He has read her file, acquainted himself with her appearance to ensure that he isn’t welcoming separatist scum with open arms. But, for some reason, Fox is shocked by how small she is. She’s petite and blue and looks like she wants to be just here as much as Fox does.

“Senator. Welcome to Coruscant,” Fox greets. He stands at formal parade rest and prepares for her to brush him off because he’s just a clone, and that’s what every other senator does.

“Thank you.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Riyo Chuchi.”

He stares at her hand, her fingers are slender and are adorned with petite golden rings. Slowly, probably resembling a robot that he is thought to be, he takes her hand. “Commander Fox, ma’am.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Commander.” She says as she gives his hand a few shakes up and down.

“Likewise, Senator,” he states and for the first time in his life, he thinks he may actually mean those words.

Two

There is a knock at his door and Fox instantly feels homicidal. If someone is coming in here to tell him that he is late on the paperwork he is filling out right now he’s going to kill them. He would have been done by now except he had to keep taking breaks to babysit the damned, shiny Senators. “Enter,” he growls.

“Hi Commander,” Senator Chuchi is standing at his door, holding a tin can of something .

Oh no .

Please don’t let this be a package she was delivered. They will have to lock down the whole area, the bombsquad will be called in and then he really won’t get this paperwork done.

Wearing a smile that only worsens his anxiety, she enters his cluttered, supply closet-sized office and stands in front of his desk.  

“Can I help you with something, Senator?” He bites.

Her smile falters. “I just wanted to say thank you. I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to properly thank you for showing me around. Without you, I would be, in quite the literal sense of the word, lost.”

He stares at her. Thanking him? Thanking him?  

She clears her throat and shifts her weight back and forth between her feet. “Anyway, thanks.” She thrusts the tin box at him. “I baked some traditional Pantoran cookies. They’re my favorite.”

Hesitant, he accepts the box from her, their fingers brushing. To his surprise, however, she doesn’t flinch away from his accident touch. Most senators do. “Thanks… This is very nice of you.”

She beams. “Anyway, I will let you get back to work. It was lovely seeing you again, Commander.” And she darts away, leaving Fox standing in his office staring down at a tin of cookies like they may hold the meaning of life.

Three

Fox breathes a sigh of relief as the elevator door closes. If he is being honest with himself, he is not doing well. He hasn’t slept in three days and he is getting really tired of senators referring to him as just ‘clone’ or whatever other derogatory terms they come up with. Finally, in the peaceful quiet of an empty, descending elevator - he is alone. He slouches, his back aching from standing impossibly straight all day.

To his absolute and total dismay, the elevator lurches and the doors slide open, revealing Senator Chuchi. Her face lights up immediately and Fox feels nothing but dread. Normally, he can partake in some chipper small talk that she likes to make, but he is tired and he just wants to get to his office so he can take a shot of brandy and fall asleep on his desk.

“Hello, Commander!” She chirps as she steps into the elevator.

“Senator,” he greets with a nod.

“How are you today?” He’s gotten used to her asking this question. The first time she had asked, his brain had almost stopped working altogether. Now, he has a canned response.

“I’m fine, ma’am, and you?”

“Doing well, thank you.”

Silence falls between them as the floors tick down.

“You seem like you have a lot on your mind, Fox. Are you sure you are alright?”

He looks over at her. He is always ready for everything, but Riyo always seems to catch him off guard. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I do not mean to pry, how rude of me.”

The elevator dings; they’ve reached her floor.

Placing a gentle hand upon his upper arm, she says, “I hope whatever is troubling you passes easily and without grief. Have a wonderful day, Commander.”

The doors are already sliding shut when he musters up the coherency to tell her to have a good day as well.

Four

Fox signs his number for the last time and exhales a heavy sigh of relief. Senator Chuchi had asked if she could stop by for lunch and while he had initially told her no, after about a week of her asking, he finally conceded. Now he finds himself rushing to get his work done so that she can still come by.

When she knocks on the door, he straightens up his desk haphazardly and calls for her to enter.

She stands there with multiple bags of food and a tray of drinks. “Good afternoon, Fox. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” He pulls his chair around to the other side of the desk for her to sit in. It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it is a far cry better than his guest chair that has a broken leg and wobbles enough to make even him a little seasick sitting in it.

“I’m doing quite wonderfully now,” she smiles, and puts her bags on top of his desk, minding the datapads. “I hope you enjoy greasy diner food. Ahsoka showed me this place called Dex’s and while it is in absolute violation of every health code, his food is amazing. I got a couple things. I didn’t know what you liked.”

“I’ll eat anything, ma’am.”

“Fox, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Riyo? We’re friends!” She lightly smacks his wrist and he lets himself smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s a habit.”

Five

The unnatural warmth and claminess of his right hand pulls him into consciousness. Blinking awake, he is welcomed by the harsh fluorescent lights above him. He groans and rolls his head over to the right, eyeing the culprit guilty of ruining the first good night’s sleep he’s gotten in months. A small smile creeps to his lips when he sees Riyo fast asleep at the edge of his cot, his hand entrapped in hers.

“Riyo?” He whispers and she sits bolt upright, releasing his hand - much to his own dismay - and straightening her hair.

“Fox. I’m so glad you are alright.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” he huffs, suddenly aware of the ribs broken by the blast.  

“Good, you’re a very dear friend. I would be lost without you.”

He takes her in. She looks like she has hardly slept and her hair is sticking up out of her golden headpiece. He has an overwhelming urge to reach up and tuck it back to where it belongs. He has so many things he wants to say, like that she’s his friend too and that he would be lost without her too because she is the only good thing he has. “Thank you,” he whispers instead, hoping his meaning is still relayed.

Her eyes widen. “For what?”

“For staying,” he whispers, turning his hand over as an invitation for her to hold it again.

Luckily she catches on and does. “You’re very welcome.”

+ One

Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised that their ship got shot down. When the gunship crashed into the snow, she had thought that it was the end - she had finally died. But then she comes to with Fox shaking her awake.

“Riyo. Riyo!”

She blinks a couple times. “I’m fine. I’m awake,” she swats him away.

He lets out a harsh exhale and his shoulders fall from his ears just a pinch. “We need to move out. Seppies may come to scout the wreckage.”

She nods. “Any survivors?”

“Just you and me. Can you stand?”

Easing herself up she gives him another nod, “Yes. I’m alright. Where do we go?”

“Scanners picked up some caves over to the east. If we move quickly we should make it by nightfall.”

“Okay. Lead the way, Commander.”

With a grunt, he heaves a pack onto his back and pulls himself out of the overturned gunship. She tries not to look at the twisted and contorted bodies at her feet as she accepts his hand and is hauled out. The icy wind of this planet takes her breath away and she gasps.

“Sure you’re alright?” He questions.

In the daylight, she sees the way he is hunched forward slightly, cradling one arm closer to himself than normal. His armor is significantly more scratched and some of the red paint has been chipped off. “I should be asking the same to you.”

He shrugs with the arm he isn’t cradling. “I’ll live.”

“Then I will as well. Let us find these caves.”

They walk in tense silence. When they finally reach an ominous opening to the belly of a mountain, he turns on the lights attached to his helmet and enters. “No life signs. We should be safe here for the night. I sent out a distress signal when we crashed. A squadron will be here by tomorrow morning.”

“That is good news,” she manages through a shiver. It is so, so cold here. Wrapping her arms around herself she tries to suppress even more convulsions.

“I have a blanket, and,” he trails off pulling his pack off of his back. “A small heater. It probably has enough juice to last until pick up. I haven’t seen anything around here that we could burn.”

Night falls quickly and it makes Riyo desperately wish for the sun. If Fox is cold, he isn’t showing it - at least not in the same convulsive manner that she is. She can hardly keep her teeth from chattering. They each have a blanket; she has knees folded up so that the blanket fully envelops her and he has his draped around his shoulders. Wordlessly, Fox rises, shrugging off the blanket, and begins pulling off his armor. He hisses a little when he moves his injured arm and then he is wrapping himself back up in the blanket and crossing the cave floor.

He eases himself down next to her and opens his arms. “Come here,” he grunts.

She doesn’t need to be told twice.

Oh and he is so warm. She drapes her blanket over their legs and he wraps his around their arms. He pulls her into his chest and she folds herself tightly around him. Never in her life has she felt safer than she has in his arms.

“This is nice,” Riyo murmurs.

Fox hums in the affirmative and runs his hands through her hair. “Yeah, this is nice.”

She falls asleep like this, curled in his arms, his fingers in her hair, and waiting for help to come in the morning.

[creativerogues]

A Great Big Guide to Minis, Grids and Combat (WARNING: REALLY FREAKIN’ LONG!)

Part 1: Minis

Finding the right Miniature for what you want can be a monumental task, and because there's so many types of Mini out there, I'm breaking this section down in the hopes that it'll help...

Metal Minis

I'm just gonna say it right now, Metal Minis are hard to find. Wizards of the Coast don't do them any more: They're chunky and heavy, but also extremely durable.

If you're looking for Metal Minis in your area, you can find a lot of Metal Minis at old Wargaming Stores and Hobby Shops, and often at a pretty great price because they're so old and badly painted because they're from the 80's.

I know people that have bought Solid Lead Minis from Wargames from the 60's and they look pretty great even today (I mean the paint is a little faded and chipped, but still...), which is a testament to just how durable these things are...

Metal Minis are great if you want Minis that are durable and will last for your whole campaign and beyond, and you can easily order and buy Metal Minis online from companies like Reaper Miniatures and their "Metal Fantasy" Collection, and with Services like HeroForge Minis, you can even make your own Metal Minis, albeit a little bit more expensive than your average Mini.

Plastic Minis

Plastic Minis are pretty much the standard for Minis. You can find both painted and unpainted Plastic Minis in almost every D&D Store and you can often buy them in bulk online or buy individual minis in store for great prices.

Wizards of the Coast (The People that make D&D) have their own lines of both Painted and Unpainted Plastic Miniatures available online, and you can often find individual Plastic Miniatures available in your Local D&D Store, online through things like Amazon, eBay or Miniature Market, or just buy them in bulk through places like the Wizards of the Coast Products Page.

And while these Plastic Miniatures are cheaper than the Metal Minis, they sacrifice durability for cost, and these Minis can often break at the worst of times...

But, as the standard for most D&D games, and available almost anywhere, Plastic Miniatures are your best bet for finding 3D Minis to use in your Game.

Paper Minis

Paper Minis are two-sided Minis that go on little stands, and the art for them is absolutely beautiful...

Most of these are extremely cheap, and some even give you the chance to use your own Printer to create dozens of amazing looking D&D Minis.

Most Paper Minis come as Downloadable Content that lets you print everything at home, while some come on Cardstock that you can pop out and place in their stands.

Paper Minis are absolutely perfect for play, and even when bulk-buying the Paper Minis printed on Cardstock, you can get literally hundreds of Paper Minis for almost no significant cost.

And while yeah, they're not exactly "durable", they're great for saving money, and they're still beautiful to look at.

Pre-Painted Minis

Pre-Painted Minis are almost as standard as Plastic Minis, and they often go hand-in-hand.

Wizards of the Coast Minis almost always have some variety of Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures, while their Nolzur's Marvellous Miniatures Line of Unpainted Plastic Miniatures are there for those that want to paint their own.

There are well over 2,000+ Individual Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures out there that are available to purchase from pretty much anywhere, and while Pre-Painted Metal Minis are rare, and the paint jobs are often kinda old, they are available...

But I will give a fair warning that Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures can come with faults: Some break in transit, some have bent swords and spears, some are painted so strangely that characters and monsters can have crazy eyes and look a little too silly on close inspection…

But Pre-Painted Plastic Minis are still great to use, pretty cheap to buy, and it's only in rare cases that you'll be unsatisfied with what you get...

Painting Your Own Minis...

Like I've said, the Nolzur's Marvellous Miniatures Line of Unpainted Plastic Miniatures are there for the Dungeon Masters that want to paint their own minis.

This line of Minis is Plastic, and come already covered in a Grey Primer and are pretty much ready to paint right out of the box.

However, while the Unpainted Plastic Minis cost just a tad less than the Pre-Painted Plastic Minis, getting into painting Minis can be an expensive hobby, as you often end up buying dozens of different paints, brushes, and more just to paint a single mini.

But don't be dissuaded from doing it, you can find Paints for Minis on the Wizards of the Coast Products Page and Online where available...

Commissions: There are People out there that you can Commission to paint your Minis for you, and most services are pretty cheap, so ask your Local D&D Store if they can paint your Minis for you, or if they hold classes in painting Minis...

Learning to Paint: Painting Minis takes time and patience, but can be very rewarding in the end, and starting out can be just as easy as looking up a tutorial video or signing up for mini painting classes at your Local D&D Store.

And while your first few self-painted Minis might not look great, overtime you'll become a great painter, and can save a bit of cash over time by buying Unpainted Plastic Minis and painting then yourself, so double win!

Where To Find Good Minis...

There are a LOT of places to find Miniatures, from Metal to Plastic to Paper to Painted to Unpainted, so I'll break it down for you.

Metal Minis: Metal Minis are hard to come by, but can be found online being sold as Individual Minis.

Most old Metal Minis come Pre-Painted but might need a new lick of paint, while some are entirely unpainted.

You can find most Metal Minis at your Local D&D Store, as well as online at the usual places of eBay and Amazon.

If you're looking for Custom Metal Minis, I'd suggest taking a look at HeroForge Minis, and while they might be a little expensive to some people, I think having a custom mini that's pretty darn durable is worth the price.

Plastic Minis: You can find Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures in almost every D&D Store and pretty much anywhere online. You can buy in bulk and get full sets of minis, or buy them individually (and normally for a cheaper price) at your Local D&D Store.

I'd recommend places like Miniature Market and Amazon when looking for Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures, and for Unpainted Plastic Minis, not only can you find those Online and in your friendly neighbourhood D&D Store, but there are plenty of great companies out there that produce some absolutely stunning custom minis for you to paint.

Painted & Unpainted Minis: You can find the Nolzur's Marvellous Miniatures Line of Unpainted Plastic Miniatures both online and in-store, as well as the Icons of the Realms Line of Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures for those people that want them.

There are also companies out there that do Custom Unpainted Plastic Minis, like Reaper Miniatures or Gale Force 9, and I'll be sure to leave a Comment with as many Links as I can find...

Paper Miniatures: My personal favourite place for Paper Minis is Printable Heroes. They have a whole selection of Free Downloadable Content that you can print off at home.

But, if you're looking for Paper Minis that aren't just D&D, Paizo makes a line of Cardboard Cutout Miniatures called Pathfinder Pawns.

Cheap Alternatives to Minis...

If you unfortunately can’t afford to spend money on Minis, there are plenty of really fun and really cheap alternatives to Minis.

Tokens from other Tabletop and Board Games, Lego Pieces, even a bunch of colourful M&Ms can still be used to show where your heroes and monsters stand…

Part 2: Terrain

I'm going to break this Section down just like the Minis Section, because there's just as many options for creating Dungeons and Maps as there are for Miniatures and Monsters.

Markers, Maps & Gaming Paper

You can buy Markers pretty cheap from pretty much anywhere, and basic blank Maps that you can draw on and erase with relative ease.

And some advice: Check the Markers you're using on your dry-erase or wet-erase maps, because you don't want to draw in permanent marker by accident and suddenly have that one "Permanent Dungeon Room"...

You can find entire rolls of Blank Maps that you can draw on from places like GamingPaper.com and Chessex.com, as well as Online from Amazon (because Amazon is our overlord, provider of all!), and these Maps come with Hexagonal Grids and Square Grids that suit whatever kind of game you want to play.

Flexible Battle Mats

From my own experience, this has been the most common type of terrain I use: They're flat maps, sometimes a variant of vinyl, sometimes just straight up fancy cloth, but they're the most available thing I can find, and have always been available to me through my Local D&D Store as well as Online in the usual places.

I call these "Flexible" because you can fold them and roll them and they won't warp or bend, and none of the Markers I use smudge or stain these maps in anyway compared to the cheaper options that might not last as long.

These maps are often just a single depiction of a generic area: A map of the woods, some mountains, the dock of a port city...

And some can get pretty weird if you look in the right places. I found a Map for a Githyanki Warship floating over an Ocean, and I've used that specific map about 4 times already!

You can find these types of Maps in your Local D&D Store for pretty cheap prices, and since most of them are maps of forests or mountains or underground caverns, they're gonna see a lot of use…

Dungeon Tiles

A lot of Companies produce modular dungeon tiles that are essentially dry-erase boards that clip together, and I personally think these are the coolest!

You can draw a dungeon room on each tile, and slowly piece them together as the Players explore the Dungeon, and really evoke a sense of exploration and "Fog of War".

You can buy these Dungeon Tiles Online, Wizards of the Coast even produces a line of Generic Dungeon Tiles, but I'd recommend Tac-Tiles with their dry-erase Dungeon Tiles, and again, check that the Markers you want to use don't stain or smudge when drawing lines…

3D Terrain

3D Terrain is great for keeping the sense of immersion during combat, and many times has the word of DwarvenForge been spoken to me as something from the sacred texts.

You can buy modular 3D Terrain Tiles from DwarvenForge, yes, but don't forget that there are plenty of other companies that produce 3D Terrain that's just as good.

You can buy Cut-and-Assemble Papercraft Terrain, buy Terrain that's been sculpted using moulds, resin and plaster, you can buy Miniatures from Wizards of the Coast themselves that are pieces of Terrain like Wagons, Carts, Stalactites and Stalagmites, and all of these are relatively cheap compared to buying hundreds of pieces of DwarvenForge.

But trust me when I say DwarvenForge is BADASS, their stuff is practically indestructible, and it lights up, and it even has a square grid on it too!

You can find all sorts of all kinds of 3D Terrain to enhance your experience of D&D, and you can typically find it in the usual places, but I'll put a whole bunch of links in this Post to help guide those that are looking...

Cheap Alternatives: Wrapping Paper

The other side of Wrapping Paper often has a square grid on it that's normally used for measuring and cutting paper, but I've seen and even used the other side of Wrapping Paper as a cheap and disposable alternative to a battle map, and it even comes with it's own square grid that you can draw on!

Yes, it does bleed and smear a lot when you use Markers, but it's so cheap and disposable that I can hardly complain…

And the best part, you can buy rolls and rolls of Wrapping Paper for ridiculously cheap prices and those rolls can last you a long, long time...

Part 3: Status Markers

What are Status Markers? Why do you need them?

Well, Status Markers are colourful little things you place on Minis to show that the Mini is under some sort of condition or spell effect. Status Markers are great for helping Players and the DM remember Spells and Conditions affecting multiple Creatures over multiple rounds of combat.

And these Status Markers can be anything from old plastic milk carton rings to professional 3D Printed Rings with every condition and spell effect accounted for.

If you're looking for professional status markers for your Minis, you can buy them by the butt-load from eBay, Amazon, and my personal favourite, Dakota Irish, who make some beautiful Status Markers designed to fit your D&D Minis, and they come in a variety of colors to suit your style…

Part 4: Initiative Trackers

An Initiative Tracker let's both the DM and the Players visually track the Initiatives of all the DM's Monsters and the Player's Characters.

And you can place all of them directly in front of you and the rest of the group, letting Players know "Hey, I'm up next!" or "Oh sh*t! It's almost that Bad Guy's turn!".

Many a time have I said "It's your go, what do you do?" and their response is "Oh sh*t! It's my go already?"

With this system, both myself and all my Players can see whose turn it is and who is next up...

My personal recommendations for Initiative Trackers are the 25 Piece Dungeon Master Set from Dakota Irish, and the Initiative Trackers by AxenShield that let you write your Party Member's Name or the Name of your Monster on one of the 8 flags, and flip the flag to the opposite side as turns are taken.

Are Initiative Trackers needed for Fun Combat? No.

Are they fancy as heck and help forgetful Players? Definitely.

Part 5: Combat Risers & Combat Pillars

These Combat Risers (also called "Combat Pillars" or “Combat Tiers”) give you the ability to show elevation and create a 3-Dimensional Space for your Miniature Combat.

It also gives you the chance to have combat at different heights with a series of combat stage platforms, and it's great for aerial combat. And trust me I say it makes underwater combats so much easier, just because it lets you accurately represent three dimensional combat on a map.

You can find multi-coloured and clear transparent Combat Risers on Amazon (like everything else here) and from some of the sites and places I've already mentioned, such as the Combat Risers Clear Mithril Set from AxenShield.

Part 6: Spell Effect Miniatures & Spell Effect Overlays

Spell Effect Miniatures

Spell Effect Miniatures are just like Monster and Hero Miniatures. These Spell Effect Miniatures are often Pre-Painted Plastic Miniatures that represent some of the bigger spells like Bigby's Hand or Spiritual Weapon.

Wizards of the Coast have their own line of Spell Effect Miniatures as part of their Icons of the Realms Line of Dungeons and Dragons Miniatures, with a Set for Spells like Wall of Fire and Wall of Ice, as well as a Box Set called "Arcane Fury and Divine Might", which contains several different Spell Effect Miniatures.

And there's more Spell Effect Miniatures to come! With Wizards of the Coast releasing a new Spell Effect Miniatures Box Set called "Mighty Conjurations", with Spell Effect Miniatures for Flaming Sphere, Forcecage, Guardian of Faith and more!

Also releasing in Early 2020 is Halaster's Tumultuous Templates, a set of Wizards of the Coast Branded Spell Templates that represent a bunch of different Spells, from Burning Hands to Moonbeam to everyone's favourite: Fireball.

You can find these Spell Effect Miniatures as Box Sets in your Local D&D Store, as well as online in the usual places like Amazon and eBay.

Spell Effect Templates & Spell Effect Overlays

Spell Effect Overlays let you as a Dungeon Master check the Range of a Spell, whether the Creature is in Line of Sight with the Caster, and help you as a DM (or a Player) remember Spells affecting an area or Spells affecting multiple Creatures over multiple rounds of combat.

My personal favourites are the Spell Effect Overlays from Arcknight, with Spell Effect Overlays for Fireball, Lightning Bolt, Web, Cone of Cold, Burning Hands, Fear, Dragon Breath, Faerie Fire, Moonbeam, Tidal Wave, Wall of Fire, Thunderwave and More, as well Buff Tokens, Inspiration Tokens, Monster Summoning tokens and so much more that I can't even fit here…

Every template comes on a die cut transparent plastic that's printed on both sides: With cool graphics on one side and notes on the spells effects on the other.

But if you're looking for a simpler template, AxenShield provide Spell Effect Templates and Overlays in various colours, with grids etched on to show the range and area of effect for each spell.

And, like always, you can always take a look on Amazon and eBay and everywhere else on the Internet for alternatives...

[cadence-talle]

write livvy and della

hey, grace. how’re you doing?

Snapshots

Pairing: Della Vacker/Livvy Rothsdell

Wordcount: 2,875 

Other notes: Hopping on the Dellivvy train with this oddly-paced mess. It jumps around a bit, so be sure to read the headings before each scene! (I also have a timeline if you need it.)

Thirteen years after, thirty-one years before.

Della is married on a hot summer day, under a pearly arch. Her dress is spun lace, her flowers are delicate and white, and her fiance looks perfectly handsome. Della is so happy she could burst. 

Even the sudden outburst at the entrance to the garden, Dame Alina shouting about how she deserves Alden, can’t shake Della. She feels like she’s floating, like she could lift mountains right now without breaking a sweat. 

Alden takes her hands in his as the ceremony comes to a close, smiling at her. Over his shoulder, Della can’t help herself from glancing back at the audience, at the empty seat practically shouting at her. In the sea of tearfully smiling faces, it sticks out like a beacon. Something twists in her gut.

Della tears her attention away and focuses back on her new husband. This is what you want, she reminds herself. This is what you’ve always wanted. 

She pushes down the strange emotion building in her chest and pastes a smile on her face just in time to say, 

“I do.”

-/-

Six years after, thirty-eight years before. 

“Are you going to the Commencement Ball?” Della asks. It’s the biggest Foxfire event every year- a dance, for all those students moving up to the elite levels. She’s been excited for it for months. 

Livvy snorts from where she’s sprawled across Della’s bed, doing homework. “Can’t, remember? I’m not going into the Towers.”

“Oh, right.” Della flushes- she can’t believe she forgot. Livvy’s trying to hide it, but she’s upset she couldn’t go on to the Elite Levels, annoyed at herself for being Talentless. “Well, do you want to?”

“Does it matter?” Livvy asks. “I won’t be allowed to go either way.”

“You could come as my plus-one,” Della says before she can think. Livvy’s head snaps up, and she stares at Della. 

“For real? I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.” 

Della shrugs. “I think I’m going to break up with Caton, actually. And you’re more important anyway.”

“But-” Livvy sits up, waving a hand in the air. “Won’t people talk?”

“People will talk no matter what I do,” Della says. “Besides, it’s not even that incriminating. We’re just going as friends.”

“Friends,” Livvy echoes. “Right.” She offers a small smile. “All right. That sounds kinda fun, actually. I’ll go.”

Della grins. “Great.”

Two weeks later, they walk into Foxfire side by side. 

-/-

Ten years after, thirty-four years before. 

“Whoa.” 

Livvy glances around the large room, the tiny lights hanging on the walls reflecting in her eyes. She grins at Della, tiny name tag (Livvy Rothsdell, Guest) hanging off her dress. “This place looks awesome.” 

Della laughs, shrugging one shoulder up. “The gnomes did a great job. I’m still a little nervous, though.”

Livvy grabs her hand. “You’ll do fine. It’s just talking to people, right? You’ve been good at that your whole life.”

“I guess. I just- I wish I could do this later.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure your parents are going to blow a fuse if you push this off again. They’re already worried to death about your ‘prospects.’”

Della gives a tiny smile. Livvy holds up their entwined hands. “And I’m here, okay? I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Thank you,” Della whispers, and the doors swing open. 

Della makes her rounds of the room, greeting people and making small talk. Livvy’s always there, hovering on the edges of the conversation, ready to pull Della out if she starts panicking. It’s actually not as bad as Della was expecting- she knows almost everyone there.

 She’s met almost everyone in the room when a man comes up (Alden Falaichte, #256, the nametag supplies), and sweeps into a low bow, kissing her hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” Della says. Alden gives her a charming smile. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he responds. 

Looking back on it, that’s where everything went wrong. 

-/-

Fourteen years after, thirty years before. 

She’s surprised at how quickly Alvar arrives. They’ve been married barely six months before she gets pregnant, only a year when their son is born. Holding him is like looking into the sun- bright, warm, but somehow foreboding. 

Later, Della will know that it’s because that was the moment she knew she couldn’t get out. 

She keeps her soft smile and leans into Alden as the painter drags his brush across the canvas, memorializing this great feat. The three of them are a family now; a real one. One that will be looked up to, the newest branch of the great Vacker family. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says, looking at the finished painting on the wall later. The painter’s managed to capture all the details- the perfect color of Alden’s eyes, the tiny curls in Alvar’s hair, Della’s quirk at the corner of her mouth. It’s a picture-perfect family, an enclosed biosphere that will be put on a pedestal. Della’s been standing on that pedestal her entire life.

She asked Alden once, before they were married, if he was all right with all the attention. 

“It’s a lot,” she said, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. “People are looking at you, talking about you, all the time. It can be exhausting sometimes. I understand if you don’t want-”

“Della.” Alden tilted her chin up slightly, smiling. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Della smiled. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she whispers, tracing the edges of the painting.

Somewhere, off in another room, Alvar starts to cry. 

-/-

Forty-one years after, three years before.

Della paces nervously back and forth across the carpeted floor of Fitz’s room, glancing back at the bed in which her son lies. He’s still unconscious, the venom slowly spiderwebbing its way across his chest. She shivers. 

The door flies open, and a tall woman in a gem-studded mask runs in. Della freezes. 

“Liv?” she whispers. It’s been years, but she’d recognize her old best friend anywhere. Even with a mask on. Livvy meets her eyes. 

“Hey,” she says sheepishly. “Heard you were here.”

“What are you doing here?” Della asks. “Since when are you a member of the Black Swan?”

Livvy shrugs, a gesture so familiar Della knows it like the back of her own hand. “I have been for a while, actually. Almost sixteen years.”

“Why didn’t I know?”

“We weren’t really talking when I joined.”

And that’s when it hits Della. She didn’t know Livvy had joined the Black Swan because she didn’t know Livvy anymore back then, still doesn’t know her anymore. She’s struck with a sense of longing, of missing what they used to have. 

But it wasn’t you, she thinks. It was Livvy. She broke things off, not you. “How’s Quinlin?” she asks as Livvy opens a bag and starts pulling out elixirs. 

“Oh, we filed a match fail,” Livvy says offhandedly. “Things didn’t work out.”

“I’m- sorry?” Della responds awkwardly. Livvy shrugs.

“Eh, you know. I only really married him because of you and Alden, you know? We didn’t really have much in common at the end of the day. I couldn’t talk to him, not like I can talk to you.” She pauses, tapping a fingernail against a glass bottle. “Could talk to you.”

Della flinches. “I think I’m going to wait outside,” she says, moving towards the exit. “Tell me if you need anything.”

“Goodbye,” Livvy murmurs, almost too low to hear. “I never got to say that.”

Della closes the door. 

-/-

Three years after, forty-one years before.

“And I swear, if one more person asks me how we became friends, I’m going to steal their kneecaps.”

Della laughs, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as they walk through the streets of Atlantis. They’re trying to find a gift for Livvy’s mom- it’s not going very well, though, since the only things Livvy can remember she likes are “music” and “those weird jam pastries” and neither of those things is very helpful. She peeks into another shop window as Livvy keeps talking. 

“Everyone’s just like, ‘oh, but you’re Talentless, how could someone like you be friends with a Vacker,’ and I’m like, ‘wow, I wasn’t aware that abilities dictated who you could be friends with.’” She groans. “Honestly. This would all be easier if I could just manifest already.”

“Hey,” Della says, grabbing her hand. “I don’t care that you’re Talentless, okay? You’re my best friend.”

“Well, duh,” Livvy says. “It would just stop the gossip mill.”

Della shrugs. She’s been around the gossip mill her whole life- if it’s not one thing, it’s another. Then she spots a tiny box in the storefront of a shop across the street. “Wait, what’s that?”

That, as it turns out, is a music player, a tiny instrument that plays the newest Song songs. Livvy takes one look at it and brings it up to the purchase counter. 

“My mom’s going to love it,” she says as they leave the store. “Thank you so much.”

“I just saw it in the window,” Della laughs. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Still.” Livvy leans over and gives Della a quick kiss on the cheek. A warmth and the scent of lilacs surround Della, gone as quickly as they’d come. “Thank you,” she says, stepping back. 

Della blinks, trying to quell the odd rising feeling in her chest. “You’re welcome,” she manages. “Um. Do you want to get butterblasts?”

Livvy’s face lights up, and Della reminds herself that this is normal. Friendship is normal. Livvy probably gives all her friends cheek kisses. 

“Yes,” Livvy says, hooking her arm through Della’s. “Let’s go.”

-/-

Seven years after, thirty-seven years before. 

Dear Livvy, 

I miss you. Everyone here is nice, sure, but they don’t have your humor or your looks. I have this constant feeling that everyone wants to be my friend because of my family, not because of me. You were never like that. 

Why were you never like that?

Anyways, my studies are going well. The Elite Levels are… harder, than normal Foxfire, but it’s fine. Not like I have much else to do. 

They were playing a song today in Advanced History, the one with all the birds; do you remember it used to be your favorite? You’d play it on loop, talking about how it “embodied nature” or whatever, until I had to tackle you to shut you up. 

Do you know how many times I almost kissed you last summer? How many times we were sitting so close it would have been easy to just lean forward? Because I do, and it’s a lot. 

How are you? How’s work? I heard you’re training to be a physician- that’s so cool! I hope that when I come home you can show me the stuff you’ve learned. 

I should go. Have a ton of work. 

I love miss you,

Della 

-/-

Thirty-one years after, thirteen years before.

Della and Alden don’t fight often. Della’s not one for fighting, honestly; if someone cares enough about a subject to actually come to blows about it, she usually assumes they’re right. Livvy always said that was a stupid mindset, but Della disagrees- in high society, it’s easier to just agree and move on than to argue. 

On this, however, she refuses to back down. 

“No,” she says, striding closer to Fitz and taking the six-year-old in her lap. “You are not sending our son to the Forbidden Cities.”

Alden sighs. “Honestly, Della, I’ve told you, it’s barely even illegal. And this is important-” 

“I don’t give a flying fizzleberry how important it is! He’s six years old, Alden! You can’t throw a six-year-old a melder and tell him to be careful. He’s going to get hurt.”

“I’m big!” Fitz objects. “I could do it.” He looks up at Della, eyes wide. “What am I doing again?”

Della glares at her husband. “See? He’s a little kid. He’s not going to be roped into your insane missions.”

“This is important-”

“Nothing is more important than our son!”

“Some things are.”

Della steps back, mouth hanging open as Alden scoops Fitz into his arms. He glances back up at her. “I’m trying to save the world, Della. You’ll understand when we find her.”

He heads towards the exit, and Della drops into a chair. Softly, she mutters, 

“I hope you never find that girl if this is what she’s being brought into.”

-/-

Forty-two years after, two years before.

Della marches into Alden’s office and slaps a pile of papers down on the desk. He looks up, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s this?”

“I’m filing a match fail.” Della says bluntly. “You just need to sign right there and I’ll ship it off.”

“And what happens if I don’t sign?” Alden asks. Della places another sheet of paper on the desk. 

“Then I bring the issue of domestic and child abuse to the Council, as well as telling them how long you were illegally going to the Fobidden Cities.” She smiles at him. “Your choice.”

Alden stares at her. “After everything I’ve done-” 

“Nope,” Della says. “You don’t get to do this right now. You don’t have the right. Just sign and get out of my house.”

“Your house?”

“It’s belonged to the Vacker family for generations,” Della informs him. “And you are no longer a Vacker.”

“Della-” Alden starts, but Della’s turning towards the door. 

“With all due respect,” she says, “I’ve had to put up with your bullshit for twenty-nine years. I’m done.”

And she exits the room. 

“Why did you want to meet me here?” Livvy asks an hour later. She’s sitting across from Della at a small coffee shop in Atlantis. This is, Della reflects, the first time they’ve seen each other- really seen each other- since she got married. 

“I filed a match fail against Alden,” she responds. “He’s leaving.”

Livvy’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s- big.”

Della shrugs. “It’s been a long time coming. I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh. I- okay.” Livvy’s quiet for a moment, absentmindedly ripping flakes off of a pastry. “Why?” she finally asks. 

Wordlessly, Della hands her a folded piece of paper. She’s been doing that a lot lately- writing down her thoughts so she doesn’t have to articulate them out loud. It’s helpful, sometimes. 

The paper she’s handed Livvy has only three words on it:

I love you. 

Livvy looks at her. “What-”

“I think,” Della admits, “I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. Since school, even. I was confused, back then. Scared, of what my family would say.” She exhales slowly. “I’m tired of being scared.” 

She glances up and Livvy. “So- if you’d be okay with it, I’d like to try something.”

Livvy blinks and nods, and Della kisses her. 

This is nothing like kissing Alden. This is warmth and security and the smell of lilacs, so much like that cheek kiss in Atlantis all those years ago. This is home- Livvy is home- and Della loves it. 

-/-

Then, forty-four years before.

“Oh!”

Della runs straight into someone, knocking herself to the ground. A girl, clad in the same black uniform as Della, is standing over her, dark jewel-scattered braids hanging around her face. She smiles at Della. 

“Hey, sorry about that,” she says, offering a hand and pulling Della to her feet. “I’m Livvy, by the way.”

“Della Vacker,” Della responds. “And I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Livvy laughs, flashing Della a bright smile. “Let’s just agree it was both our faults. Where are you headed?” 

“Elvin history,” Della says confidently. She’s had her schedule memorized since the day it arrived with the rest of her supplies. “You?”

“Uh,” Livvy bites her lip, rummaging through her pockets. “I’m not sure? It might be elementalism. Ooh, or ability detecting!” She shrugs. “I’ll figure it out. See you at lunch?”

Della blinks. “I- sure. That sounds good.”

Livvy flashes her a thumbs-up and takes off, calling behind her. 

“Great! Nice to meet you, Della Vacker!”

And Della, standing in the middle of the Level One hallway, has a sudden feeling that her life is about to change for the better. 

-/-

Forty-four years after, now. 

Della is married for the second time on a cool October afternoon, surrounded by her friends and family. Fitz is best man, Biana is maid of honor, and the rest of their friends are in the wedding party in one capacity or another. Keefe and Dex specifically requested to be flower boys. 

There are no interruptions this time, no shouting at the garden gates, no anger that they’re getting married. It’s just Livvy and Della, now Livvy-and-Della, and a lot of love. 

“I first fell for you when you fell for me, that first day in Foxfire,” Livvy laughs. “I looked at you and I thought, that’s her. That’s the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.” She looks at Della. “That’s the girl I am spending the rest of my life with.”

Della takes her hands, twining their fingers together. “I love you,” she says simply. “I love you, and I’m never going to stop saying it.”

The priest drones on, the ceremony comes to a close, and Della says “I do,” for the second time in her life. 

This time, she really means it. 

[orphan-with-a-stutter]

Stress of the Reaping (Peeta x male reader)

Requested by: anon

Request: Can I have a Peeta (hunger games) x Male Reader, where he finds them stress painting?

Warnings: none

Peeta never left the bakery much, he really didn’t have the time or the will to be fussed at by his mother. But from the building he could always spot (y/n), he was always walking by to the mines or from them. He didn’t do much else in between or come into the bakery much.

You were constantly working just as Peeta. You didn’t have to walk by the bakery everyday but you did. You knew he would see you and that was the only time you saw him. The mines kept you busy or your family did, never much time of your own.

Today however you found that time to be by yourself. The next hunger games was around the corner and you knew your name was in there, a lot, at least 45 maybe 50 times. And it stressed you out thinking about being picked. Sure working in the mines made you tough but it wasn’t survival skills. And being the oldest of 6 kids really added stress. 

So today you made your way out of town still within the fences but there was a spot where you could have a great view of the mountains that stretch for miles. That’s why you loved the spot so much. You had hid your paint supplies there long ago, when you use to go to the spot a lot, but as you got older you had less and less time to do so. 

You recached the spot laying the canvas against the post of the fence and bent down unburying the box that had all the supplies in it. The box once yellow was now brown from how long it had been buried. A small smile spreed across your face remembering all the good times.

Peeta had noticed him walking by today carrying a blank canvas. He was curious as to where he were going, so he decided to follow you. The bakery hadn’t been busy and he was done making bread for the time. He made sure his mother wasn’t around before he left out.

You had loved painting as a kid, it was the one thing the whole family had done together until they stopped, but you had continued until you stopped. Now as a way to destress from the upcoming reaping you were back. Until you heard someone walk up behind you. You turned and to your surprise you saw Peeta standing there shocked. 

“You paint?” he asked surprised.

“Yea...” You trailed off unsure of why he was there or how he knew where you were to begin with.

“Since when?”He asked and realized how it sounded, “I just mean how long have you?” he restated his question.

“Since forever, when I was a kid, since before I left school.” You answered in the best way possible.

Most of you never remembered much about school since most kids never stayed long.

“Well, it’s a nice spot to paint.” He replied finally walking up to you but was looking around at the location. “I never knew you could see the mountains like that.” He spoke once more looking at what you were there to paint.

“Yea you leave the town and it’s this whole other world.” You stated smiling.

That brought him to his next question, “What are you doing out here? Like besides painting.” He questioned looking at you.

“Stress painting.” You replied almost in a Whisper.

“Is it because of the reaping?” He asked and you nodded in reply. “Yea me too, my name is in there about 42 times.” He stated nervously. 

“I wish mine was only in there 42, I think mine is in there 45 maybe 50 times.” You replied sighing and Peeta looked at you worried.

The more family members you had the more your named seemed to be put in because the oldest always seemed to have to care for everyone.

“The odds are never good are they? We put in our name every time we need something.” You stated throwing a rock through the fence.

“Well this is sad.” Peeta spoke but a small smile on his face, “Maybe I need to stress paint now.” He added grabbing a paint brush.

“Oh first you follow me, then get sad and then decide to paint on my canvas?” You questioned playfully.

“Hey I was curious and now I want to paint.” He answered in the same playful tone as you.

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

So this is probably so different than what you wanted but I hope you like it!