#ignore the giant apple chat

[crazymanicherelmao]

School is beating my ass so far, this is new

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 2: Assistance Experience

Narrated by Vermillion.

Narrator: Seven days to New Year's, Helz and I land in the Lodden Airport.

Narrator: Streetlights glow like diamonds in the night. Bright neon signs make the skyline both dazzling and surreal.

Narrator: This close to New Year's, lively rhythms permeate every corner. Golden and red ribbons adorn the top of exquisite gift boxes in shop windows.

Narrator: The giant screen in the square has the ad for Night of Twin Queens on loop. The vivacious play blends seamlessly into the energetic surroundings.

Narrator: The cocktail takes place at the Lodden Hotel, a famous landmark in Lodden.

Helz: Shop talk and a design demo precede the finale party, held on New Year's Eve.

Helz: On the night of the party, all designers must wear their own designs to the cocktail. A ballot is held to determine the best design.

Narrator: A lot of designers come just to show off their work at the party.

Narrator: I see. Guess it's a marvelous opportunity to see masterpieces from renowned designers.

Narrator: The assistant's work is more tedious than I'd expected.

Narrator: Once I get in, I have to run around and make sure everything is in order, wait for the staff to show up, and gather all different things that Helz needs.

Narrator: To facilitate meetings for him, I've prepared two versions of the document, one streamlined, the other detailed, and put them in separate places in the folders.

Narrator: Helz gives me a satisfied look as I pass him the folder.

Narrator: I stay off to the side as Helz chats up the other designers, discreetly observing and sizing up everyone at the party.

Narrator: As I do so, I take mental notes on the information I would need for the next meeting.

Narrator: Looking around, I see staff shuttling racks laden with different, brand-new outfits.

Narrator: Men and women dressed to the nines mingle on the couches, locked in intense discussions, the fashion magazines in front of them dotted with circles and notations.

Narrator: Just one round around the room with Helz, and my hands are already full with stacks of information on designers and brands.

Narrator: I take advantage of him attending the new release presser to sort the information by design styles, and mark the designer names for easy reference.

Choose "Did you meet any designers you liked?"

You: Did you meet any designers you liked?

Narrator: I got to know Helz' good friend Sonya when making the rounds with him. She's a very personable designer.

Narrator: She was polite to even an assistant like me, and taught me how to talk to other designers. I finished my work quickly because of her help.

Choose "How about ones you didn't like as much?"

You: How about ones you didn't like as much?

Narrator: Just between you and me, yes.

Narrator: Like that blonde woman who insisted on wearing shades indoors, Caroline, the ace designer with John Jacobs.

Narrator: I wasn't familiar with the venue, so I asked someone for directions and it turned out to be her.

Narrator: She stared daggers at me and then ignored me.

Narrator: Later, Helz tells me Caroline's designs have been the red-carpet highlight of every Apple Federation International Film Festival.

Narrator: With their flamboyant looks and avant-garde concepts, her designs were lauded by many critics.

Narrator: She also worked exclusively with many stars, too, basically designing for whoever is hot. She even did Mercury's suit.

Narrator: But she has a bad temper. She's given a tongue lashing to almost every assistant she's brought.

Narrator: Luckily, Helz is a cool boss.

Narrator: As an assistant, I'm here to learn. Excellent designers have to be that way because they all have their own fortes.

Narrator: Some of the designers are hard to get on with, but I'll still do my job!

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[jadedvibes]

Uncovered

Summary: Your secret relationship with Bucky is finally revealed.

Part 2 for Marked, you'll definitely want to read that short fic first.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, hickeys, fluffy feels, pet names, lots of beverages, avengers tower au, beefy!bucky being an absolute dork with a scarf.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: You both gave me some great feedback, so here's how Natasha discovers the truth about these two! @justsebstan @aquariusbarnes

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

That night after you had fallen asleep, Bucky slipped out of your room to get a drink. He had spotted your red knit scarf on your desk and placed it around his neck before leaving. After all, Natasha did say that he should cover up and he figured you might like to tell her about your relationship yourself. 

He heard Nat chatting with Bruce and made a show of securing your scarf over his shoulder rather dramatically as he walked past the two of them sitting on the couches. 

“Happy?” he teased, running his hand over the scarf pointedly. 

Nat furrowed her brows. “Shouldn’t your hickeys be faded by now? And where did you get that, I swear I’ve seen it before.”

Bucky shrugged, “The store.” He wasn’t in the mood to explain, he just wanted to make some tea before returning to you. That’s how he ended up wearing your scarf with his white tee shirt and black joggers, an outfit that made zero sense.

“Fine, keep your secrets. And in the future, put the scarf on before the sweet girl with the most loving heart has to be subjected to that,” Nat gestured towards his neck with an irritated look.

Bucky bit his lip, reminding himself that you would prefer to tell her yourself. “Not a problem,” he saluted her from the kitchen. 

Nat sauntered into the kitchen to grab an apple just as Bucky finished pouring out two cups of chamomile tea. One in the wolf mug you had gotten for him, the other in your favorite red mug. The night was still young, and you had fallen asleep early; he had a feeling you’d wake up and want something to drink soon. 

“Two cups?” Nat inquired. 

Bucky’s eyes widened, he had to think of a good reason. “No, well yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’m really thirsty.”

“Then why didn’t you use a bigger mug? And isn’t that Y/N’s fav–” 

“What is this, an interrogation?” he blurted out as he dragged a hand through his hair. “I have to go, my tea is getting cold.” He swiftly strode out with his drinks, hoping that the jig wasn’t up for your sake. 

Natasha watched as he walked off with that oddly familiar scarf trailing behind him. The normally stoic Bucky was flustered as he covered for the recipient of that second mug. Given your nonchalance towards his earlier love-bitten state, she knew then what you had both worked so hard to conceal – you were sleeping with Bucky. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

The following morning you decided to grab coffee before Bucky woke up. He looked too peaceful to disturb, so you figured a quick jaunt to the kitchen would be for the best; that’d give you more time for cuddles and kisses prior to starting your day.

You knew that you could start telling people about your relationship, but Bucky had done a number on your neck and you figured you may as well cover it up so that the two of you could share your new official status together. 

After a quick scan of your room you realized that your scarf wasn’t where you’d left it, so you decided to go without. It wasn’t super likely that you’d run into anyone on your way. 

Just as you finished pouring out the second mug of coffee, Nat came in and sat in the seat in front of you. So much for an inconspicuous little trip. 

“Two cups,” she smirked as her gaze glossed over your neck, scattered with hickeys. “Good for you, Barnes isn’t the only one that deserves to have some fun.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Right, of course not.”

“So this was why you weren’t upset when you saw him yesterday? Already had someone of your own.” She feigned ignorance, although she was already certain about what was really going on.

Biting your lip to suppress a smile, you remembered that Bucky wanted to tell everyone, and perhaps you could drop the act now. “I wasn’t upset for a few reasons, Nat.” Heat rushed to your cheeks as you were about to confess the truth. But then Bucky walked in, wearing your scarf along with his pajamas again. 

Nat cocked an eyebrow at Bucky. “They really should be faded by now, no?” 

“Oh, yeah… I’m cold,” he lied, smiling sheepishly at you.

Her gaze returned to yours, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “How long?”

Bucky came up next to you, breathing a sigh of relief. 

You reached up and started to undo the scarf. “A while,” you grinned, unwrapping your scarf from your goofy boyfriend’s neck.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his coffee. 

“So those flowers I saw Bucky bringing in last week, those were for you?”

You shrugged with a dopey grin.

“Who’d you think they were for? I’ve only wanted her for as long as I’ve known her.” Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” she shook her head in disbelief. It was apparently more than hooking up, and she was astonished by the fact that she’d missed the signs. 

Sam stepped into the kitchen, seeking out coffee for himself. “Hey Buck, are we still on for training this afternoon?” He asked as he poured out a cup, unaffected by the way the giant man was wrapped around you. 

Bucky nodded casually, not trying to hide a thing.

Nat looked between the men. “You knew?!”

Sam smirked. “Some spy you are.” 

“You all suck,” she sarcastically rolled her eyes. Nat couldn't believe that she was one step behind you two, but regardless, she was more than content to see her friends so happy together. 

“I love you!” you exclaimed to placate your best friend. It was hard not to feel a little bad for hiding things from her. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll discuss this later.” A trace of a smile crossed her face and you knew that all would be well. 

Inhaling a breath, relief washed over you as you let go of the tension you didn’t even know you were carrying by keeping the secret. 

Standing abruptly, Nat gestured towards the couches. “C’mon Sam, let's leave the lovebirds so you can fill me in on all the fun gossip you have on them.”

Sam chuckled, following after her. “You would not believe what I saw Bucky wearing as he snuck out of Y/N’s room.” 

“Samuel, I swear to god,” Bucky warned. 

You giggled at his empty threat before leaning your head back against his solid, warm chest. You were grateful that you’d no longer have to hide the way you felt about him from the world. 

Bucky tightened the hold that he had on you before whispering in your ear. “You laughing at me, baby?” 

Turning in his arms, a soft smile tugged at your lips as you met his deep blue gaze. “Why, I’d never.”

He pouted his bottom lip as he pretended to sulk for a brief moment before letting out a laugh himself. He was fine with Sam divulging all his secrets because he had you, completely. 

Bucky beamed as he brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, taking in the beauty of the woman he loved so deeply. Clasping your hand, he brought it up and put it over his heart, finally ready to tell you his sweetest secret. “You know… I love you.” 

You felt the strong beat hammering hard in his chest. Your own heart racing just as fast as he smiled down at you. 

Leaning up, you pressed a sweet, tender kiss to his lips. “What a coincidence… because I love you too.” 

The truth was uncovered, and somehow that brought you even closer to the man that held your heart from the day you met, and every single moment after.

[yuecakes]

✨ Dangerous Fellows Characters reacting to - setting their nickname in a chat message

🏏 (you set the nickname for Ethan to baby giant )

Ethan: (sent a shy sticker)

Y/N: You don't like it?

Ethan: I just... It's cute. Keep calling me that from now on.

💙 (you set the nickname for Harry to softie cinnamon)

Harry: I appreciate it, it's very nice. I'd like to name you too. Hmm..let me think..

(Harry set your nickname to sweetheart)

Harry: Do you like it?

Y/N: Harry you're so sweet! ಥ╭╮ಥ ♡

💥 (you set the nickname for Zion to redstupidheaded)

Zion: Who are you calling stupid?! (ノ｀Д´)ノ彡┻━┻

Y/N: I'm just kidding!

(Zion set your nickname into DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY)

Y/N: Hey, what's that?!

Zion: Why?! That's you and it suits you very much lol

Y/N: ...

Zion: Are you mad?

Zion: Nooo don't ignore my message TT

🧢 (you set the nickname for Eugene to precious baby)

Eugene: Argh.. setting nicknames are just for idiots and you think I'm a kid?!

Y/N: Come on, that's just for fun. If you don't like it, I'll just remove it :D

Eugene: I haven't said I don't like it. just keep it (￣. ￣)

👓 (you set the nickname for Lawrence to my apple mint)

Lawrence: You never miss Y/N that's what I like about you

Y/N: um.. huh?

Lawrence: For putting 'my'. You know too well that I'm yours and you're mine only.

Y/N: ...

[shes-a-gryffindor]

Of Apples and Psychological Lapses

A @jilytoberfest submission. Prompt #12 - One overhearing something they're not supposed to.

That day, on an otherwise uneventful morning, it started with an apple, of all things.

James Potter sat straddling the bench at the Gryffindor table, poring over what Lily supposed was a textbook, elbow on a knee with an apple in his hand.

Only half listening to Mary’s recitation of the ingredients for the Draught of Living Death that they were supposed to be brewing later that day, she chanced upon another look at him…. the muscles in his jaw jumped as he bit into his apple, and as she watched him laugh at something she couldn’t hear, Lily found herself wondering whether he’d always had that dimple in his cheek… before she’d had the chance to mentally scold herself for her apparent loss of self-control, James caught her eye; grinning roguishly, he winked at her before taking another bite��

“You’re doing it again,” said Mary,

Lily’s neck snapped so quickly away from James she thought she might have whiplash, “doing what?”

“Making love eyes at Potter” she sniggered.

“Don’t be daft,” responded Lily dismissively, “I was not giving him love eyes” she added, silently cursing the blush now creeping up her neck, “…anyway, the ingredients…for today, you were reading them…” a lame attempt at a change in subject.

Mary smirked at her for a moment before returning to her textbook; relieved that she’d been let off the hook, Lily focused intently on Mary’s recitation, despite already knowing the ingredients from memory, she was determined not to look over again at the group of boys sitting only a few feet away from them.

Thinking they’d get a head start on the swarm of students that would soon be filing out of the hall, they packed their books and downed the last of their pumpkin juice. As she stood, Lily glanced quickly over at James again, he was in animated conversation with Sirius, the apple hanging loosely from his fingers at his side… and a ridiculous idea crossed her mind.

Deliberating over it in the seconds it took them to reach the spot where he was sitting, before she’d even really decided upon it, she’d snatched the apple out from his hand, twisting her head round to wink back at him, before taking a bite of what was now her apple.

“Shut up,” she smirked at Mary, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion; she felt his eyes burning into the back of her head during Transfiguration, then found herself loitering after class, trying to chance perhaps walking out at the same time as him… before realising she was behaving like an idiot and walking quickly out alone.

History of Magic was, in particular, a challenge. It was, as usual, rather impossible to focus on the monotony that was Professor Binns' lesson.

Serenely unaware that no one seemed the least bit interested in his thorough breakdown of wand legends through time, he droned on… “The Death Stick, The Wand of Destiny…” and by the time the lesson was over Lily and James had shared several silent exchanges across the classroom.

Potions that afternoon was perhaps, although short-lived, her only reprieve. Lily was quite comfortable in her element, happily brewing her Draught of Living Death. Having already reached the ideal halfway stage, she smiled contentedly down at the smooth, black currant-colored liquid in her cauldron.

Just as she was about to start chopping her roots, she caught James, brow furrowed, curiously observing her potion, before looking back at his own - which appeared to be eliciting a sort of blue-ish haze, not horrible but certainly not what it should have been doing by that point… better, if nothing else, than Peter’s… who was looking more distressed by the minute at the now foul smelling, brown concoction bubbling in his cauldron.

“Care to share your expertise, Evans?” Asked James, grinning over at her. With his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, his forearms were tense as he shifted his body weight onto them, leaning over the table toward her… and Lily thought quietly, that the dimple in his cheek was obviously not the only thing she’d failed to notice.

“Afraid not, Potter,” she responded, “see If I told you, I’d have to kill you… although, could be doing myself a favour there,” she added, smirking at him.

“Better not then, otherwise you might actually get some peace and quiet… can’t have that,” he said seriously.

“Merlin forbid,” she mumbled, in mock exasperation.

“Merlin forbid,” began Sirius, “all this terrible flirting makes me throw up in my cauldron.”

Mary and Peter burst into a fit of giggles, even Remus, it seemed, found it amusing, while James just grinned down at his cauldron.

“Your potion can’t get any worse than it already is Black… I say try it,” Lily mocked.

Sirius, however, had cast his attention elsewhere.

From the corner of the next table over, having apparently overheard the entire exchange, Severus was looking darkly over at them. His eyes flickered briefly between James and Lily before returning to his potion. She knew she’d been shamelessly flirting with him, for days, weeks really… what she hadn’t realised was how blatantly obvious it was becoming, to everyone even beyond their friends; blushing furiously and feeling rather sheepish, she scowled at Sirius, who was still grinning smugly over at Severus, before returning to her own potion.

As she made the last of her rounds that evening, her mind once again wandered to what was fast becoming something, or rather, someone, she thought about much too often. He’d looked a little too smug after catching her at dinner - watching, as a Hufflepuff in the year below them asked for his help with a Transfiguration essay that weekend… in addition to self-control, she was now apparently also losing her common sense… it was perfectly acceptable that he help another student with an essay, why should this bother her…? But honestly an essay over the weekend, she thought… ask the bloke out and be done with it, what a stupid excuse… Surely he knew the girl fancied him.

The sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of them, tucked away in a quiet corner of the library poring over an essay together, was extremely disconcerting, this sudden interest in who he was spending time with… He’d made his existence impossible to ignore for the better part of six years, perhaps now that he wasn’t asking her out at every turn her mind was playing that stupid game, the one where you only want something because it’s not as easy to get anymore, not because you genuinely want it… some psychological lapse in judgement… yes that must be it; so trying to force her thoughts back into some semblance of order, Lily resolved to get a grip.

She met Remus in the dungeons and together they checked the last of the corridors before heading back up to the common room, chatting about weekend plans, their upcoming exams and whether they had anything planned for the summer holidays before their seventh year.

Lily was careful to steer the conversation in another direction anytime it got a little too close to James, so she wasn’t exactly thrilled (maybe a little bit) when they stepped through the portrait hole to find James, Sirius and Peter sitting alone in the common room. With a warm smile, Remus bid her goodnight and went to join his friends in front of the fire.

“All right, Evans?” Asked James, grinning that lone-dimpled grin as she walked past.

Shooting him a quick tight lipped smile, she trudged up the staircase to her dormitory with an infuriatingly pink face; she had just reached the top of the staircase, however, when she heard Sirius snigger -

“Reckon she might actually prefer you to the giant squid now.”

Failing in her resolve to get a grip before she’d even begun, and apparently not above eavesdropping now either, Lily stopped and stood there at the top of the staircase, dead silent, craning her neck to listen to them.

“What?” Asked James, “What makes you say that?” In his voice, Lily heard a hint of what she thought sounded like hope.

“Are you daft? Or do you just want to hear it all back?”

“A bit of both I think,” chuckled Remus.

“Did you not see Snivelly’s face in potions? Even he can tell she fancies you mate,” said Sirius, dryly.

“Looked a bit put out, didn’t he?” Chuckled James.

“A bit? Looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or hex you,” chortled Peter, “d’you reckon him and Evans… you know-”

“What? Asked James, cutting him off, “went out?”

“Nah,” answered Sirius quickly, “who’d want to go out with that? Didn’t they know each other from before school, or something?”

“Yeah… they were friends,” said James, with finality in his voice.

“‘Till he showed his true colours,” scoffed Sirius, “…bit naive of her though, don’t you think? To think that he’d be anything but the slimy git he is.”

Lily had half a mind to go down and give Sirius a piece of her mind, until…

“Nah,” said James, “I reckon she knew who he was the whole time… she just chooses to see the good in everyone, y’know? Even a slimy git like Snivellus.” When no one said anything, he added, “Personally, I don’t think she should change that about herself.”

There was silence… and then someone made a dry-retching sound like they were throwing up, followed by scuffling and a series of thuds, “gerrof!” Came Sirius’s muffled voice, over Peter and Remus’s laughter.

Deciding she’d heard enough, Lily tiptoed quietly into her dorm; and as she pulled the scarlet hangings of her four-poster around her that night, she thought perhaps her interest in James Potter wasn’t a psychological lapse in judgment at all.

[heatabove-heatbelow]

Kairosclerosis Chapter 4

Lets ignore that it's been a month since I posted Chapter 3. Hiatus really messed up my writing

Kairosclerosis - The moment you realize that you are currently happy

Summary: You’re sent to Garden’s Gate Academy where you fall in love with Sam Kiszka. Since your family doesn’t approve you start fake dating your friend Danny to get his and your family off your backs, but your feelings for Danny start to grow into more than just friendship.

Pairings: Sam Kiszka x Reader, Danny Wagner x Reader (Reader is gender neutral but AFAB)

Warnings: Dysfunctional and judgmental families, future 18+ explicit content - MINORS DNI

Despite it being your parent’s idea to send you to Garden’s Gate Academy they don’t actually want to bother to take the drive to take you there, so your uncle has to do it instead. Danny said he would’ve offered to take you with him but driving to your house on the way to Garden’s Gate Academy was a bit out of the way and inconvenient for him so his parents refused when he asked.

The car ride is tense and silent as you hold back tears as you stare out the window. You had just gotten into an argument with your uncle about your friendship with Sam, and the things he had said were so awful. The argument had started when you had asked your uncle if you could play a CD and he said yes, so you pulled out a CD that Sam had given you. That got your uncle started on how that music is a bad influence and how Sam is a bad influence on you, too.

“Keep Daniel away from that boy,” he had scolded, unaware that Danny and Sam are already best friends. “He’s a good boy who doesn’t need that kind of trash in his life and neither do you.”

“He’s not trash or a bad influence!” You had argued back, already getting upset. “He makes me happier than anyone else in this whole world, you guys should be happy that I have someone that makes me so happy but instead you don’t care at all!”

“We do care and that’s why we’re warning you about Sam,” he retorted. “That whole family is an absolute mess, neither of his parents have real jobs and now their kids have unrealistic ideas for the future.”

At this point you were too upset to even argue and just started staring out the window. This is where you find yourself now when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You unlock your phone and see Sam and Danny texting you from the group chat you have with them.

Sammy: We’re in the orchard waiting for you!

Danny: Can’t wait to see you!

They attached a selfie of the two of them sitting against the trunk of one of the giant apple trees. Both of them smiling their giant, goofy grins as they celebrate finally being back together. Your heart aches to be with them and you find yourself tearing up again. You quickly wipe your eyes before your uncle can notice as you don’t want another argument to arise again.

You’re grateful the school is only a few minutes away so that you don’t have to wait too long to see him again, but also so you don’t have to be in this car for much longer. You sit in awkward silence with your uncle, you can tell he’s waiting for another chance to snap at you, waiting for you to say something that he can go off about, so you keep your mouth shut.

You never thought you would ever feel so grateful and excited to see the academy but once it appears in the distance you find yourself feeling relieved and your heart starts pounding. You watch as the building gets closer and closer until it’s looming over you. You’re too relieved right now to feel the normal sense of dread you usually get, but you’re sure that will come later.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car before the car even stops moving, which you can hear your uncle scolding you about. You start to walk away from the car, trying to get away from your uncle as quickly as possible and get to Sam and Danny. You don’t care that your bags are still in the trunk of the car, you don’t care that your uncle is yelling at you to come back. What you do care about, though, is when he yells out to you “Keep up an attitude like this and you’ll be even more of a family disappointment than you already are!” You almost freeze in shock that something so cruel, even by his standards, would leave his mouth, but instead you start running.

You’ve been to and from the school orchard so many times that you know how to get there even with tears blurring your vision. You were aware of how different from the rest of your family you are, but you never imagined they would view you as a disappointment. A small part of you had hoped that maybe your relationship could be saved, that perhaps you could still be a loving, normal family, but as you run to the orchard you realize who your true family is.

You see Sam and Danny in the distance, still sitting under the tree like they were in the selfie they sent you. When they see you coming towards them they excitedly call out your name and hop up then run to meet you. Sam gets to you first and scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you as tightly as he can as though if he lets you go you’ll disappear from his arms forever. You hold onto him tightly as well, taking in the familiar feeling of his body against yours and his comforting smell. Being with him feels like home, being with him is home.

“My love, I missed you!” He exclaims and kisses the top of your head. When he pulls away and sees your tear stained cheeks his smile drops and he looks concerned. Danny looks concerned, too, and stands next to Sam. Sam puts a comforting hand on your right cheek and Danny cups your left cheek, both of them wanting to help you.

“My uncle said I’m a disappointment. I didn’t think my family felt that way about me,” you choke out, and Danny immediately pulls you into a comforting hug

“Y/n, you are breaking generations of toxic thinking and behavior, you should be proud of yourself,” Danny says as he rubs your back. “We’re proud of you.”

“Y/n,” Sam’s voice is stern yet gentle, “You are so much better than everyone else in your family. Unlike them you bring happiness and kindness wherever you go and you live your truth, you don’t care about what other people think. You are your own person and we love you, okay? Fuck all of them, you have a new family now. You have Danny and me and my siblings, and we all love you.”

Sam and Danny’s words make you start crying again, but this time from happiness and you pull both of them into a group hug. They hug you tightly, making you feel safe and secure. Sam kisses the top of your head and Danny holds your hand once they finally pull away from the hug.

“Can we get back into the shade of the tree now I’m getting hot,” Danny teases to ease the mood and you let out a small laugh. You three sit under a tree, eating the apples that have fallen from the branches that are not too rotten. You can’t help but watch as juice drips down Sam’s chin after he takes a bite before asking you about your summer as though he didn’t call you every day and knows exactly what you did.

Sam watches you and Danny as you three talk and he notices something is different. You seem closer than before, which seemed almost impossible because you two are best friends. You sit as close to Sam as possible, one leg draped over his and his hand on your thigh, but Danny is sitting close to you, too, so close that your shoulders are touching. He notices you subconsciously switching out on who you lean against, sometimes him and sometimes Danny. He notices that Danny touches you more, whether it is playfully nudging you or messing with your hair. Whenever he touches you he lingers before finally moving his hand, and even the way he looks at you and the way you look at him is different.

Sam is not jealous, however, nor is his first thought that you’re cheating on him. He knows you and Danny better than that. You two are his best friends in the whole wide world and he has every bit of faith in you. You two just spent three months together, comforting each other from your family’s and being there for each other when he couldn’t be. Of course you would grow closer. He smiles as he leans back against the tree and watches you two as you bounce off each other as you tell a story. He’s glad you have each other. He loves you two more than anything else in the whole wide world, and seeing you two be happy makes him happy. Despite where he is, despite what the next few months will hold, Sam finds himself feeling more content here than he ever did during his summer vacation. He’s home now, he’s with you.

[mushroommushy]

Enter Bunnix

Evillustrator

#VoteMrsBustierBestTeacher

- Nathaniel’s birthday!

- He’s 15 now as well

- Really only the other rich kids know that it’s his birthday

- Mostly because he gets a bit overwhelmed with large amounts of attention on him

- He’s shy, let him be quiet in the back where he doesn’t get in trouble

- Because tomato here has some good o’l ✨trauma and daddy issues✨

- Nathaniel has a huge crush on Mari here

Alix: Nath, you have a crush on anyone that’s nice to you that you don’t consider family

Nathaniel, immediately: That’s not true!

- It is

- Nathaniel has internalized homophobia

- Not to say he’s rude to people who are gay!

- He just won’t let himself accept that he is gay

- Because he knows he would probably be sent away by his dad

- Alix managed to get her hands on a 72 piece set of copic markers and honestly

- Nathaniel wasn’t even surprised

- Chloe nearly made her dad buy Nathaniel a fucking house for his art on his birthday since it’s his stress reliever

- And god knows how much he needs to destress

- The poor boy literally uses every excuse he can to avoid his dad and stays at the school until it’s closed

- His dad is a heavy drinker, and is a violent drunk

- He has assaulted Nathaniel before

- He doesn’t have a mom, as she divorced his dad when he was little

- His dad didn’t even really raise him, blaming him for the divorce

- Even though he was the one that was cheating

- Alim has called him out on this several times

- Nathaniel considers Alim as his father as he raised him more than his bio dad

- Nath is also a history buff because of this

- Especially when it comes to historical art pieces

- Him and Alix have been caught clinging to each other regularly because that’s just a thing with Kubdels

- They will cling to you

- Nathaniel was drawing in science class and Mrs. Mendeleiev yelled at him for it

- She called him out on failing science to literally everyone else in the class room

- And then proceeded to insult his art harshly and send him to the principals office

- Alix was sitting next to Sabrina, who was having to grab her wrist so she didn’t jump out of her seat and break her nose

Sabrina: I would love to let you go and let you go feral on her but I don’t want you getting in trouble. But trust me, it’s tempting.

- Sabrina was really tempted to let her do that though as she was pissed too

- Chloe was not being restrained by Max however, and proceeded to absolutely destroy Mendeleiev for slandering Nathaniel

- Most of the class was pretty startled about this, since they had assumed she didn’t really care about anyone after Dark Cupid

- Marinette came in late, so she didn’t see Mendeleiev yell at Nathaniel

- Nathaniel was akumatized into Evillustator, with the goal of proving how good of an artist he is

- Marinette was in the group with Chloe and Sabrina

- Alix was partnered with Max and Kim

- Alix didn’t miss Alya saying unlucky and glared at her for it

- Chloe did ask if her and Sabrina could work alone but was still denied

- Marinette was not looking forward to working with them and was miserable, expecting to have to do all the work

- Chloe and Sabrina however, offered to split the work evenly between them

- Marinette didn’t believe them but agreed to it anyway

- Chloe was a little bummed about Alix not being in their group

Chloe: I wish Ally-kins was in our group. I suck at science.

Sabrina: Alix is who we want for history, not science.

- Marinette mistakes this for them using Alix for good grades because she’s smart and she ends up disliking them even more

- She makes a mental note to try and keep Alix away from them so they can’t use her

- Sabrina has more of a personality compared to canon

- She isn’t a pushover, and doesn’t do Chloe’s homework for her

- But she is extremely smart, able to complete complex math problems in seconds

- Sabrina however is hyper and gets excited when she has a new friend

- Chloe is just snickering as she circles Marinette like a puppy

- The three of them end up working in the library for a little while

- Sabrina was muttering about how she was annoyed that she wasn’t able to give Nathaniel his present

Marinette: Present?

Sabrina: It’s his 15th birthday today! Alix already gave him some copics. I had gotten him a new tablet that came with an apple pen since he’s been wanting one.

Chloe: He wouldn’t let me get him a studio, so I just got him one of the Limited Edition Graf von Faber-Castell pencils.

Sabrina, choking: How did you get your hands on one?! Theres 10 and they cost $12, 800 each!

- Cue Marinette cursing and wondering why she didn’t know that and why the hell they spent so much money

- Chloe still gave Sabrina the hat because she had it on her

- Mendeleiev was in the courtyard when a giant Bunsen Burned started chasing her

- Alix had peaked out of the art room to see that

- She was with Max and Kim still though and couldn’t transform

- Chat Noir showed up, destroying the Bunsen Burner and looking around for the cause

-Evillustrator was on the second floor and rolled his eyes when Chat spotted him

- Chat was noticeably upset realizing it was Nathaniel who was akumatized

- Ladybug showed up soon after and both ran into a wall

- Alix was a little freaked out about the situation and super worried about him

- She had just had to sit out on fighting her brother now it’s her best friend?

- Chloe was clearly worried as well and nearly screamed when Evillustrator popped up for a moment to hug her and Sabrina

- Sabrina did actually scream

- He left before Ladybug and Chat got after them

- Ladybug was quite angry with them, assuming that Chloe was the reason that he was akumatized

Ladybug: You got another person akumatized? This is the second one!

Sabrina: Hey, Chloe didn’t do anything to Nathaniel! She defended him! Mrs. Mendeleiev is the one who hurt his feelings!

- Bunnix showed up and Chloe fangirled immediately

- She doesn’t like Ladybug as much with the false accusation and assuming

- But didn’t blame her too much as she wasn’t aware

- Ladybug just sighed and went home, detransforming in her room at the same moment Evillustrator came in

- She nearly hit him with a peel

- Marinette didn’t really know how to react about the fact he had a crush on her

- I mean, she barely knew Nathaniel

- She didn’t even know that it was his birthday

- She did agree to coming to his birthday party, feeling bad

- Then noticed that his iPad was buzzing like crazy

Marinette: Your iPad seems to be getting notifications quite a bit

Evillustrator: Huh?

You have 7 missed calls

Alix Kubdel: Nath, please where are you. You’re making me scared.

Adrien Agreste: Nathaniel? Please, answer. We’re here for you.

Sabrina Raincomprix: We’ll make sure Mendeleiev is punished for this! We all love you very much.

Chloe Bourgeois: This isn’t your fault Nath. I’ll get daddy to do something, I promise.

Jalil Kubdel: You ok little brother? You can stay with us tonight. You don’t have to deal with the scumbag. We’ll keep you safe, always. I heard you were akumatized. You’ll be ok soon, I promise.

- He actually started crying

- He didn’t realize that they cared so much

- Marinette had texted Alix that Evillustrator was in her room

- She got close to the bakery as Bunnix and then detransformed

- She had tackle hugged Evillustrator as soon as she got to the room

- Hawkmoth of course was screaming in his head to attack

- But this only made him even more irritated with Hawkmoth, Nathaniel being able to shove down his negative emotions

- This is how he managed to become the first person ever to break akumatization on his own

- Both Alix and Marinette of course were shocked

- They didn’t even know that was possible

Alix: I..Nath..

Nathaniel, coughing with a smile: Love you too sis.

- Marinette trapped the Akuma in a glass bowl so it couldn’t escape and cause a stone heart situation

- Alix was so incredibly proud of him and hugged him even tighter

- Marinette joined in on this too

- When Chat reached the scene, he was stunned

Chat Noir: Did you two break the object?

Alix: Nope..he rejected it himself.

- Alix was so freaking proud of him

- Nathaniel ended up staying with the Kubdels that night instead

- Alim had even gotten him a gift and planned a trip for his birthday

- They watched Nathaniel’s favorite movie, ignoring Nathaniel’s dad the whole night

- The class had crowded him with questions on how he broke akumatization

- Which he just answered by saying that he loved his family enough

- Chloe got her dad to fine Mendeleiev too

[aceofspadegrass]

Breakfast with Squirrels

Characters: Tatta Koudai, Arisu Ryohei, Aguni Morizono (Although never named.)

Genre: Fluff. Just Tatta having a nice morning. Then nearly getting attacked by Catra.

1.5k words

Tatta woke up with the sound of squeaking and sun gently filtering through the window. He yawns, sitting up and stretching as he feels his hat get dragged along his lap, a slight pressure underneath. Tatta opens his eyes and grabs the top of his treasured hat, the head of his good squirrel friend Henry peeking out as Tatta pulls his hat on. Tatta gently pats the top of Henry’s head with a finger, the squirrel chittering and climbing up Tatta, crawling underneath his hat. Tatta actually isn’t sure how Henry could breathe up there, but every time he checked Henry was completely okay.

“ Okay, time to start the day. I’ll grab you some food when we head down, okay?” Tatta tells Henry as he heads to the bathroom to do his morning routine. Afterwards, he starts his trip downstairs, waving a greeting at every person he passed with a smile, even as most of them ignore him, too involved with themselves to really acknowledge him.

That didn’t matter right now, Tatta didn’t mind. He heads to the dining hall and into the kitchen, which was a little filled with people preparing breakfast for the day, Tatta carefully avoiding their paths to get to the pantry. Pulling out a bag of hazelnuts and some dried bananas, he fills a small bowl with them, along with grabbing himself an apple to eat himself. Tatta heads outside and sits at a table, setting the bowl down and tilting his hat up so Henry could climb down. The squirrel opts to crawl down his face today, Tatta chuckling in amusement as Henry climbs over his neck to get down to the table, taking his arm like a train rail. Henry makes it to the bowl, happily munching down on the items offered. Tatta eats his apple and watches Henry chew at the hazelnut shell with the determination of a warrior, and moves his attention to around the dining hall. It was full of people waiting and eating their own breakfasts, a few tables still empty as it waited for others to soon wake up and take their places.

Nobody came to sit by Tatta, but again, that was alright for him. His friend wasn’t usually awake at this time anyways, so Tatta was allowed a moment of being alone with his squirrel friend. He doesn’t exactly remember where Henry even came from. It was just a case of finding a squirrel that ended up living with him, happy enough to hide underneath his hat at all hours of the day. Henry at least stayed behind before games, Tatta not wanting to accidentally hurt his small rodent friend in any of the games.

As he watches the people come in, and as people are served their daily breakfast from the kitchen, he sees Arisu walk in by himself, watching something that went along the floor, obscured by the tables so Tatta couldn’t properly see what it was. Tatta raises a hand to wave at Arisu with a smile, Arisu actually looking over and smiling back with a wave in return.

That at least made Tatta’s day, and Arisu comes over to Tatta, sitting across from him.

“ Hey Tatta, what’s up?” Arisu greets him, and Tatta can only shrug. He was a little tired from having to roll tires across the Beach after someone moved the tires and switched them with the pool floats, as well as the game he participated in last night. It was a simple one at least, nothing too taxing on him. He still doesn’t know why the game involved hiding a pineapple on his person, but who was he to judge the games. They could get terrifying, and a game of hide the pineapple wasn’t too bad.

“ Nothing much. I don’t think I have anything to do today, actually! I think I’m just gonna take the day to relax. Maybe by the pool!” Tatta tells Arisu, Henry loudly chewing on a piece of nut. Arisu smiles a little at that, and looks away briefly, thinking about something. Tatta just finishes his apple while he waits, Arisu eventually looking back at him.

“ Wanna hang out with Usagi and I? We might be by the pool today as well, chatting about random things. If you don’t mind.” “ Of course not, I would love to hang out with you guys!” It sounded like a nice plan, hanging out with Arisu and Usagi. Tatta thought they were really neat people, and nice too. Tatta liked their company.

Arisu goes away for a bit to grab himself food, leaving Tatta all alone again with Henry, who was still eating. At least, was eating, until something spooks the small squirrel, Henry scrambling up to higher ground and settling on the very top of Tatta’s head. Tatta was confused, and he looks around, only to freeze when his eyes look eyes with a lynx, very much staring up at Tatta.

The lynx had a little harness on it, curiously enough, like a dog. Attached to said harness was what appeared to be a knife of all things, unsheathed and very dangerous to anyone who dared even brush past the beast. “ Wh- Huh? Why is there a whole like….. giant bobcat here-“ Tatta leans away from the lynx, as if that would help anything, the animal only stalking closer. Henry makes a noise, clinging to the top of Tatta’s hat for dear life, Tatta’s heartbeat racing. He really didn’t want to become lynx chow, especially here, where he was supposedly was safe from the dangers of being outside and surviving on his own.

The lynx licks its lips, and pounces, Tatta shutting his eyes and expecting an impact.

Only…. that impact never comes, and Tatta creaks open an eye, only to see the lynx hanging there, that spooky military guy with the scar holding it by its harness with an almost disappointed dad look. He looks to Tatta, who was trembling a little, and then back at the lynx in his hand, which he near tosses off, the lynx racing off from them, deterred from trying to try again.

“ You’re alright now.” That was all the man said before he leaves, Tatta trying to calm his poor heart from whatever that was. He reaches up to check on Henry, the squirrel curled up further back on his hat, his tiny squirrel heart beating just as quickly, if not more. He leaves him up there to recollect himself, hoping the undue stress didn’t hurt his friend. Tatta wouldn’t like it if Henry left him so soon. He’d probably cry if that did happen.

Arisu comes back with food, and pats Tatta’s shoulder with a concerned smile when he saw Tatta. “ You okay? You’re a little pale. Here, have some milk.” Arisu hands him his carton of milk, Tatta trying to deny it at first, but Arisu’s worried face made him rethink it. He takes the milk with a small thank you, and sips a little, taking a deep breath.

“ What happened while I was gone?” Arisu asks when Tatta felt more stable, Henry deciding to hide under his hat for his own personal comfort. Tatta looks to the side, where that man and the lynx disappeared off to, people going in and out and keeping Tatta from really knowing whether they were still in the dining hall at all. When he felt like there was no danger, he turns his attention back to Arisu, who chews on the end of a cereal bar.

“ We…. almost got attacked by a really huge grey cat.” Tatta answers. “ It was like a bobcat, but not brown like I expected? Like a tiny snow leopard.” He pauses, trying to think of the name. He wasn’t really a master at naming specific animals though, just the basics, really.

“ Oh, I know what you’re talking about! Yeah, I was watching it earlier. It has a knife strapped to it, right?” Tatta nods, eyes widening. “ Exactly! That was so weird, right? Why is it armed with a knife?” Arisu shrugs. Tatta didn’t get it at all. It seemed kind of dangerous to arm a predator with a knife when it had knives quite practically built into its paws. But then again, at least it wasn’t armed with a full on turret or a gun. Or even worse, armed with rocket launchers. That would be a sight to see.

Hopefully he didn’t run into it the rest of the day. He wanted to hang out with Arisu and Usagi in peace.

…. Tatta probably jinxed it though. He sighs internally. Maybe if he’s lucky he can outrun a cat with a knife. Or at least hide before it got him and Henry. There was no way he was fighting off that.

The slight movement underneath his hat takes him out from his thoughts. No, of course he’ll be fine. Henry will be fine, he’s gonna make sure of that! Just gotta…. make sure not to cross the knife wielding lynx. Easy enough, it can’t be that hard.

He’s probably jinxing it again.

[so-i-dont-forget-again]

So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 152: Zora’s Domain

 It somehow felt natural waking up to his smile. It seems like he didn’t notice I woke up at first. He apologized, asking if stroking my hair work me up. He just meant to move some hair away from my face, but he accidentally just kept going. I honestly don’t know, but the was sun rising anyway so maybe the change of lighting was what did it. In the temples the lighting hardly changes, it just barely gets darker at night, I have to really look for it to tell.

Sidon apologized for falling asleep, he meant to keep me company though the night, though he was so glad to awaken with me asleep beside him. He hadn’t been awake for too much longer than me. A prince has many duties so he must rise with the sun he says.

Sidon was glad I finally let myself sleep a little. He asked me how I felt about it. If it was scary or not. It was somewhat, but I felt safe to try. Sidon was glad, though he did wish I would sleep where the doctors could monitor me.

I’m healed, though some infections are still inside me. The doctors thought that sleeping naturally healed me, but that can’t be. I know for a fact I have slept out under the stars when injured and I did not awaken healed. The new theory is that I heal when asleep only when in a bed, or I’m comfortable. I also told them about how the hot springs can heal me too. They’ve started discussing finding some Sheikah scientists and seeing if together they could figure out how my body works.

Purah said she was going to go to the Revitalizing Chamber to study it. I wonder if she’s still there.

The doctors kept me for a while, and my infections have actually spread. This was why they didn’t want me to fully heal just yet. Thankfully the damage was able to be fixed for my side before so it’s just in my arm again. They want me to stay a bit longer to adjust my medicine and make sure it has no adverse effects on me. They told me to not use my arm still, or if I must, be gentle with it, they don’t want it to possibly reach my bones or other organs. It’s eating away at me in a way, so if I’m not careful, I could tear something, and the infection gets inside and not stay outside and it will become much more difficult to manage.

Sidon had mixed feelings about this. At least I could finally take the splint off.

I never knew food could taste so good! After all the tests and pocking at my arm Sidon and I cooked again! I missed eating much more than I thought I ever could! We cooked so much, it was practically a feast and we fed the whole town. Even the King was impressed by my cooking and loved trying Gerudo cuisine! The feast lasted through the whole afternoon. Sidon and I only got to eat after everyone else was full and done, but I don’t mind. They popped into the kitchen once in a while to help or to just chat for a bit. It was nostalgic to make honeyed apples again. I should visit Kakariko Village soon. Any food that was left over I finished. I’d like to try combining different cuisine, I think some of the different pieces placed together would compliment each other well! Sidon was excited by the idea.

The kitchen can get really hot, so a nice cool bath was perfect after the meal.

Sidon filled the bath with bubbles again and massaged the goopy stuff in my hair and on my scalp again.

Taking baths just feels so great. Sidon agreed with me that renovating my house to add a bath was a nice idea. I think I’ll keep the bathing plants outside so they can keep growing even when I’m gone traveling. I’ll just pick what I want or need and leave them by the bath when I go in. Maybe I could keep a fire rod at the bottom to heat the water. And maybe I could get a waterbed as well. It would be nice to expand the house a little and add a bigger kitchen. I could also possibly work the land around my house for a while so I can just grow more rarer ingredients, though the plants from the desert might not be able to grow in dirt.

Sidon told me he loved hearing me speak like this.

Speaking of houses actually reminded him of something. After reading my memories a while back, Sidon wanted to help with the construction of Bolson’s town in Akkala and found a zora who’s name ending with son who was willing to go there and help. He had experienced much of life, being alive when the Calamity struck as a warrior. He just wants a peaceful life. His goal is actually to wed a couple, and surely people would want to get married in the new town. One of the Gerudo women who came traveling with Sidon, her name also ended in son so Sidon convinced her to go. So all that is left is to send a Rito their way.

I should go back and check up on the place some time soon. I’m going to Rito Village soon anyway so perhaps after I help them, though I will be going past the Akkala region on my way there so maybe I should pop by for a quick visit.

Sidon wondered if my healing only worked when I am comfy and happy. Perhaps though the water was not hot, if I were injured right then if I’d be healing. He noticed that I heal when I’m comfortable. I don’t heal when traveling because I’m likely on edge or only half asleep prepared for an attack. It would explain why baths, sleeping in a bed in a town, and eating could all heal me, because they all relax me and make me comfortable. I could see that, but then I wouldn’t have been injured so long here getting to be with him so much.

Sidon asked me if I ever get scars even though I heal. I’m not entirely sure. I know I had scars on my body when I woke up from my hundred-year sleep. I also try to eat as soon as I get hurt so they’re gone so quickly I never exactly get the chance to even remember where they were.

Sidon asked if he could have a closer look at my scars. He gently traced them, like when he was reading the engravings about Zora history. It was like he was trying to memorize them. He said it was almost surprising how such a little body could fit so many marks. Some of them are slightly discolored from the rest of my skin, some of them sink deeply into me. Sidon said he’d never seen scars so big.

Sidon let me trace his scars. He has one the left fin thing on his head. He got it from a great battle with a giant octorok that swallowed him whole.

He became oddly quiet though, then he asked me if he could ask something related to my darker thoughts. He asked if I ever wish I never woke up, that I was never placed in the revitalizing Chamber. I feel like I should have died with them, but do I want that as well.

I think if I truly grasped this situation I’m in sooner, then maybe yes. If I remembered my past when I woke up instead of not recalling a thing, I think I might have.

If I wasn’t alive there would be no one else to finish what we had started. We’d all be restless, and the others will keep being like that till I defeat the Calamity. My want to protect everybody, make sure they are happy is worth much more than eternal rest to me. If I stayed dead, then so many more people would have gotten hurt than even now with the Yiga clan chasing me. Besides, as much as I hurt, there is so much here that was not a hundred years ago. I never would have met Yunobo, or Riju or Kass a hundred years ago. And I never would have gotten to see how amazing Sidon would have become if I somehow continued to live on in that time. I have something that outweighs the pain, even if at times it is all consuming and I almost forget everyone, but that’s why I write here in the first place. I re-read this every night, so I don’t forget.

Sidon told me it truly is a miracle that we were able to meet now. He is so glad we were able to meet, but he was wondering if all the pain was too much. He doesn’t want to be blind to my feelings, he wants to understand me.

At times it feels like he knows me better than I do. I’m not sure how he could understand me better, but I’m glad he wants too. He told me that he’s glad I feel the same.

Sidon asked if I’d stay with him in his room tonight. He found himself unable to let me go yet. He wanted to stay by me longer. He told me it was selfish of him to want for all my time, but he couldn’t lie to himself, so he had to at least ask, however he made sure I didn’t feel pressured to go. He never wanted to force me into anything. He only wanted me to be with him if I wanted too, being with me would feel fake otherwise, and he wants to keep our bond genuine.

Sidon only travels sometimes since he’s busy taking care of his people. Still though, he dreams of traveling more, like when coming to save me, his logical reasoning being making closer ties between his people and others, but he also just wants to travel. He wants to see the towns, experience life in other places and experience their cultures. After Mipha’s passing he was somewhat ignored and coddled. For so long, even now everyone is focusing on Mipha and grieving her, it’s still a fresh wound for many of them. Because of that he was just kind of there, still cared for, but just there. Though as the last next of kin in the royal family he couldn’t leave the Domain too often for his safety with all the guardians around. He has been taught to fight but has only gotten to use those skills on occasion, that was known at least. Secretly he’d sneak off to fight monsters who came near the Domain or the water ways that branched throughout Hyrule. The only person who didn’t do this is his father, he grieved for his daughter but he didn’t compare her and Sidon, he made sure to love and praise Sidon for his accomplishments, he actually liked it when Sidon snuck out with me to find Me or when he came to rescue me recalling his own reckless adventures as a prince, but he’s the king, he has so much to do. Sidon loves his people, and they love him too, but at a distance, because he’s not Mipha. The younger generations are more inclined to see him though. It was not a bad childhood, but it was straining at times.

Sidon told me that he actually sent out some guards to go out to search for a Hylian warrior because he’s not allowed to go out farther than Inogo Bridge. He only left because Bossa Nova got swept away by the current and he just had to go save his friend. Bossa Nova was to be kept in town, but he wandered off as usual and someone spotted him fall in the ferocious river. If Sidon had not been told, he likely would have stayed by that bridge, he only would have left if the situation had become absolutely dire.

Sidon feels he could do more for his people if he were allowed more freedom, and they all expanded their horizons and looked at the world beyond their canyon and waters. Others always came to them, rarely the other way around.

In Sidon’s room are trinkets from other places. He excitedly told me stories about each of the items. About the rock a Goron had given him, saying it was their favorite and a little guy like Sidon needed to eat great food to grow up big and strong. Some golden jewelry the Gerudo women gave Sidon after returning here from saving me, loving how excited he was happily traveling with them, and as thanks for fighting so well with them. Some sheet music Kass no longer needed since he memorized the songs long ago, they were songs Sidon was especially fond of because Sidon met Kass when he was practicing those songs. A stone frog from Kakariko Village as thanks for helping them when the town began to get flooded for a time. I would write everything, but I only have so many pages.

Sidon’s room is large and has a balcony. He has a large desk for paperwork where many of his items are placed. There’s this large pool in the middle. Zoras don’t sleep in beds often, they usually sleep in the water or pools like this. Sidon had many pillows, carpets and blankets from Gerudo Town. Sidon set them beside the pool as makeshift cushions.

It’s so strange to see Sidon without his silver pieces and the blue sash. They just seemed like a part of him I suppose, I’ve never seen him without them before.

As he was placing away his pieces, Sidon tripped over Bossa Nova who had wandered in as Sidon was showing me his items I suppose. He’s so quiet it seems neither of us noticed him. In Sidon’s room is also a work bench for chiseling and working with crystal. In the commotion Sidon had bumped into it knocking the items off it and I had to catch them before they fell into the water. Sidon panicked, screamed as he ripped the items from my hands and checked them. He shakily sighed and held my hands closely, thankful I didn’t catch the dagger by the blade.

The blade is white and serrated while the hilt is crystal. Sidon reminded me of when I told him of my time with Calisa, and all she had taught me about travel and survival. I only have large weapons so many things are difficult to work with without smaller tools. Smaller tools would be extremely useful for making fires, digging, cutting down branches, collecting bark, and many other things. Sidon decided to make a dagger for me out of his teeth. Bone is extremely strong so is should not break easily. Not only would it make for a good tool, but a weapon as well. Sidon worries that there may come a day where I’m in danger and he is unable to get to me in time, so I could at least have this, a part of him with me. He told me his affections for me runs deeper than I may even be able to even fathom. His heart belongs to his people, but to me as well.

The other item is like his sliver pieces, but bigger and longer. Sidon was also making a piece to protect my arm. It had the Zora���s crest, the three crescent shapes, but in the crescent shapes are sapphires and in the space between where the crescents touch is one of Sidon’s scales. He showed me how the gems could be taken out and have other gems placed in. At the bazaar I had taught him about what I had learned about gems and the powers they have. Sidon wanted me to be able to utilize their powers. This way I could use multiple gems powers at once or have multiple of one so the power could stack up, and with rubies, hopefully keep me warm in the Hebra Mountains where the Rito Village is till I could get some warm clothing from there. Sidon wanted to make something to protect my arm, though he was a little nervous that I’d be more reckless with my arm because it was protected and not try to shield it more.

The scale placed in armor to protect someone; this is rather culturally significant. Sidon had told his father and Muzu what he had been making for me, he started this one when he returned after saving me.

I asked Sidon if he could out right, out loud, say it.

Sidon told me that like writing down things, saying things out loud makes them more real, and I had so much on my mind already, he was worried about adding something else, about if this could stress me. I told him I would be okay. I just want to indulge myself and hear him say it first. Directly, not roundabout like we have been this whole time.

  Sidon thinks he’s in love me.

I think I’m in love with him too.

  The King and Muzu had questioned Sidon, but he told them he didn’t care if I didn’t return his feelings, he wanted to protect me from anywhere like Mipha with her armor and trident, Sidon would always come to my rescue should I need it, but in case he couldn’t get to me in time he still wanted to help even if he isn’t physically there.

It fits perfectly, I asked Sidon when he took my measurements. He got sheepish, telling me he just tried remembering how it feels to hold my arm.

I’m trying to keep writing, but all these feelings keep welling up and I almost feel like crying? But it doesn’t hurt? Like my chest is trembling, and my throat is getting choked up? I’m only directly writing this now, so I guess it’s only settling in now how real this is? Nothing has changed. We both knew we liked each other for a while now, only thing that’s changed is directly saying it. And now I can feel my heart pounding. Am I panicking? Am I just excited? I don’t know!

Sidon asked me if he could court me. Sidon was getting a bit flustered now, and he tried explaining what me meant, but just kept tripping over his words. He leaned in before abruptly stopping. He asked if he could kiss me.

Sidon’s teeth are still very sharp. When he parted he realized he cut my lip on accident and started panicking. I had to keep reassuring I was okay and reminded him just eating or sleeping would fix it.

And my heart is racing like when he tells me I’m adorable. Why must Sidon do this to me.

It was so late, Sidon told me I could leave if I wanted. I asked him if that’s what he wanted. He wanted me to stay. I wanted to stay as well.

Sidon tried staying up again. He apologized when he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I promised him I’d go to sleep with him when I was done writing, and now I’ll do just that.

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[fragileizywriting]

dancing

AO3 | Start Here | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Adrien!” She whispers, grinning at him. She’s littered with freckles, all across her cheekbones and nose, and he watches the constellations shift on her skin as she continues to grin at him with stars in her eyes.

“Hurry, hurry! Get inside! Someone’s going to see you one of these days,” He whispers back, but he sits up in bed, his fingers already nervously picking at lint from the heavy blanket. He wants— no, he needs— to tell her today. He needs to tell her everything, because he doesn’t want to get into the problem of not having enough time to tell her. He doesn’t want to miss his chance.

But he’s nervous.

“Not if we stay quiet,” Mischief swirls in her eyes, completely unaware that he’s vibrating with anxiety on the mattress. “No one will know I’m here.”

“And how are you so sure, Mari?”

“Because I make sure to take all the apples from the tree that fall whenever I climb it, so that it looks like no one’s been here after all.” Oh, doesn’t she sound proud? He can’t help but grin at her when she smiles again, holding up two giant and red fruits in her small palms. They match the color of her dress, even though she’s wearing a simple smock with a decorative bow on the back— the outfit of the daughter of two bakers, after all. Her shoes look muddy— her apron looks dusty— her hair is always so full of leaves— but she is beautiful and it makes him try his best not to kick himself as he looks at her. She leaves her shoes and apron by the window, making sure to take careful and noiseless steps on the rug underneath his bed so she doesn’t alert anyone in the house that there’s movement in the room.

He watches her with a smile that matches her own, accepting the apple she gives him with a cupped hand, holding it close.

It’s just an apple. It’s warm from outside, even though it’s early morning and the sun has just started to rise. He’s had breakfast, alone, a porridge soup with bread that had tasted stale without his favorite honey. It’ll be a couple more hours until a maid passes by to tidy up his neglected room, but there’s nothing to clean anymore now that he can’t get out of bed. And just last week he’d been playing with his friends outside… “You know, I’ve never actually eaten one of these before. They fall all the time in the gardens but every time I grab one it’s been on the ground for too long, so they’re kind of rotten.”

“Well, you’re in luck! The best apples are the ones directly from the tree before they fall out,” The bed shifts as she joins him on the mattress. He looks up to her as she settles down, trying his best not to memorize for the rest of his life how she looks so happy and soft. “That’s when they’re the sweetest, you know.”

He loves sweet things. Does she know that? Or is he just getting his hopes up?

“The doctor said I should be eating a lot of fruit,” He turns the apple to look at the glossy surface. “He says it might be something to do with my spine which is why I can’t stand for long periods of time anymore without feeling dizzy. He says that the more fruit I eat, the more ‘structured your bones will become’.”

She giggles at the way he inflects his words when he pretends to speak like the doctor— and it’s lovely, so lovely, to hear her laugh. If he could keep it with him always, he’s almost positive he’d be able to get out of bed on his own without fainting. “That doesn’t sound right, but I’m not a doctor. I’m just a witch.”

“Well, Madame Witch,” He grins, “What do you prescribe me? What potions and fortunes can you throw my way so that I can get out of bed?”

“Well, I’ve read that apples have magical properties,” Her eyes always get so big and doe-like when she talks about magic. It’s endearing and so lovely— he tries his best not to combust on the spot when her eyes go round and glassy, hints of magic swirling at the surface, looking at her as she turns the apple over in her hands in the way he did. “Apples last for long times. You can make a lot of antidotes with them. There’s a whole section on apples in the green book, the one with the different handwriting.”

“Are they Tikki’s favorite fruit?”

“I have no idea,” Marinette answers honestly. “I don’t know anything about her but I know that she trusts me to keep trying. I’d like to think she loves apples the way I do— I always forget that apples exist until I see them and I remember how tasty they are. They’re everywhere.”

“You know, the books you have say that they represent regrowth.” He knows this, because he’s read most of them— he’s helped her lots with understanding Latin, and being able to read. Her French is much more advanced, but she struggles still to read the swirls and curves of Latin handwriting in those books. They were gifted to her by Tikki one day, in the middle of the night, just like a fairy— the spines decorated with paint and designs that he catches her following with a digit when she’s drifting off into a daydream.

“Regrow your spine with an apple,” She hums with a little giggle. “With the amount of apples here in Paris, I’m pretty sure you could grow a hundred thousand more.”

“No need for special magic spells,” He laughs with her, making sure to keep it as quiet as possible so that no one outside hears it. “Just apple.”

Something silly sparks in her eyes. “Oh, dear patient, I see you have bad humors? Here is a recipe for that— a cure-all— something that will revolutionize medicine as we know it: apple.”

“What about your phlegm? Have you checked it recently? Not too much of it, I hope? An apple will help.”

“Excess of black bile? We cannot have that— you know that will cause you great problems later on in life. Here, take an apple.”

“Not to mention a serious deficiency of yellow bile? Apple.” The both of them erupt into giggles. He watches her, so wary, his fingers drumming along the surface of the fruit, thinking to himself when the best moment would be. “Marinette?”

“I can’t wait until you’re on your feet again.” She bites into hers. “There are so many things I want to show you. You’d think that the world can’t change in a week, but it can— you blink and suddenly every leaf is worth talking about with you, Adrien. Every flower I find I want to bring to you.”

He likes it when she’s here. She likes it when it’s just him and her. It’s a little selfish, he knows, to want all of her attention on him, but he likes being able to have her here and only focus on the two of them. The only other times he could see her were during group hangouts— and, of course, he loves being able to see all of his friends and play hide and seek with them— but being bedridden allows him to get her full attention— and he clings to the moments like they’re all he has. “What’s changed?”

“Nino’s been trying to petition your father to come let him visit you,” She speaks softly. “He misses you a lot. Luka, too— he really wants to come here and visit, and he’d be able to climb the tree so easily to see you, but his mother just gave birth, he’s been so busy that he can hardly find the time to come up to shore anymore. He’s an older brother now.”

“Really?” Adrien’s eyes widen. “Already? But he’d told us only two weeks ago—”

“He told us he’d kept it a secret,” She shrugs. “I guess he was worried that we would find it weird. I have no idea— but Luka looked really excited at the idea of being an older brother.”

He tilts his head with a knowing look. “Have you talked to him outside the group?”

She nods as she bites again. There are spots of apple juice starting to collect in her palms, and she wipes them on her smock with nowhere else to wipe her hands on— Marinette, as usual, is completely oblivious to the amount of courage Luka must’ve had to speak to her without any of their friends near. He must’ve been shaking to the point his tail rattled— but Marinette probably took it as shivers. “A couple of times. He’s still really shy.”

“That doesn’t sound like him,” But it does. He’s seen the way Luka stammers— has tried to get him out of the habit. They’ve both practiced confessing to Marinette on each other, ending up in a fit of giggles when someone had walked in on them professing their love to each other. Nino still isn’t convinced otherwise.

“I managed to get a couple of sentences out of him, last time,” She plays with the end of her braid. “He told me he wants me to come see her before anyone else does. Her name is Juleka.”

“Juleka,” He repeats with a smile, trying not to feel a little silly at her confession. So, Luka’s been trying to tell her what he’s been trying to tell her, too. But he’s chickening out. Just like Adrien is. “That’s a pretty name.”

“She’s the light of the family, apparently!”

“Are you going to go see her?”

“I was hoping that we could go together.” She lowers her hands back to her lap with a smile. “Luka’s your best friend, too.”

“That might take a couple of months,” He frowns to himself. “Who knows if I’ll be able to swim again this year.”

“I think Luka would be very happy for you to be there. We’ll figure something out, just like we always do, right?” Her eyes are stars again. “I want you to be there, Adrien. I think that’s something we could work towards, right?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Good!” She grins. “Until then, an apple a day will keep that doctor away.”

He bites into his apple.

-*-

Chat naps.

Chat naps because there’s nothing to do.

He’s done everything he had to do today, and even more some— he’s captured the bad guy, he’s tied him up for questioning, he’s taken his stupid wanted poster off the castle gates while dragging the guy back into the castle by his ankle, ignoring the way he kicked and screamed bloody murder at the top of his lungs. The man is a liar, a criminal, and a murderer— but wasn’t feeling all that brave when Chat had managed to get his hands around the man and wrestled him back into the castle. The days are full of catching and hunting and the thrill of a chase— his nose is stained with ichor and blood of those he needs to bring for his father.

But he naps.

He likes napping in his mother’s throne, curled up into a ball in his cat form, lazing on the giant and massive chair that always somehow feels warm like the tree it was carved out of is still alive and well. His mother’s throne is made out of Earthen trees— a luxury that he understands is rare. Unlike his father’s throne, cut from trees from this realm, and offers nothing of solace unless given heat by another living being, his mother’s throne is always warm and comfortable. He sleeps contently, curled into the smallest ball he can, shoving his nose into his tail and tucking his paws underneath him.

The candles flicker. They don’t provide much warmth, not in this form, but the tiny noises of kindled wicks are pleasant to his ears as they burn through the wax. There’s the small pitter-patter of a dripping candle— the sound reminiscent of a clock— and it keeps him company as he dozes. There’s nothing else in the throne room with him, aside from the candles, aside from the throne that feels alive.

There are temple bells ringing outside of the castle.

His ears swivel to the sound, even as he lazily turns, listening to the ancient metal tang of the ghastly dome reverberate against the stained glass windows. With one eye inching open, he watches the scattering of green and gold shadows illuminate the runestone floor, taking his time flipping onto his side and watching the throne room come to life.

It’s not often that the temple bells ring and shake everything in the surrounding area, but it’s often enough that he doesn’t strange the deep and fluttering feeling it gives his chest. The bells are to discourage wandering souls that have escaped the forest, and have escaped phantom hunts, from entering the houses of demons and causing panic. Souls hear the bell and quiver— they either get frozen in fear, perfect for capturing— or are sent back into the safe haven of the forest where they are to roam and get lost in until it is time for another phantom hunt.

The bells ring once every few hours, for two days, before dissipating with a final ring until the next year.

It has begun for this year. It is August already? The years move by too quickly— or perhaps he’s grown accustomed to living with two gods who barely recognize time, his father notwithstanding.

The shadows swirl in the throne room, and Chat watches with mild interest, licking at his paws to even out his fur. No poison is enough to maim him, no more painful attempts to turn him into the blank and white figure his father spoke about, now that he is at the age of twenty— but poison still stings his tongue with a bitter taste that makes him want to gag— but he cleans and cleans. He is a class above the rest, trained and perfected into the perfect chaos machine that makes his father’s eyes proud.

He likes making his dad proud.

The bile tastes awful.

He cleans until he’s tired of it— settling down back onto the throne with heavy lids. The runestone floor glows a heavy purple from the bells— swirls and thick prominent lines with Latin etched into the stone that he’s tried to make sense of with varying degrees of success. Either the stones are misplaced, or they are simply nonsense words from a language past his recollection— the words in that combination do not match up to anything he recognizes.

Every time he’s asked his parents, they gloss over it— Plagg, of course, gives him a different answer every time he asks. He’s given up trying to understand it, and is under the assumption that they actually do not know either.

He scurries to a sitting position when another bell rings.

He’s never heard this particular bell before.

Louder, cleaner— it isn’t a temple bell but rather a singing one. It is higher pitched than the massive ones outside that echo into the castle and down the halls— this one, instead, cuts straight through him and seems to rattle inside his soul as if looking for a place to stay, singing in the hollow spaces of his bones and mingling with his magic as if trying to coax him to do something. He blinks in alarm at the runestones, which glow a lofty green, and the bell rings over and over like it’s being constantly struck with a light hand.

It feels… it feels right to hear it.

He almost purrs at the sound of it, which is even more alarming, because he’s never heard it before in his life, but it soothes him.

The runestones shift like an old puzzle trying to assemble itself back together, and the old Latin words shift along the floor with them. He watches, transfixed, as the sound of stone moving against the echoey and airy tone of the new bell clash— the stone settles to form a perfectly flat circle pedestal that is raised a few centimeters.

Chat shifts back into his normal form so he can get closer and inspect the words, eyes widening at the phrases. “What— what the hell—”

Manibus date lilia plenis. Give lilies with both of your hands?

Qui per tutelam ostium. Protect the one who goes through the door?

How bizarre. He’s never seen two phrases completely disjointed before, but it’s certainly better than the absolute mess it was prior to shifting. He follows the words that circle around the flattened stone, trying to make sense of what he sees, reading the words over and over.

“I recognize that noise,” The door at the end of the throne room opens. He looks behind him to see his father, who looks down at him, and then the floor, looking for an answer he currently does not possess. “I did not imagine I would hear it again any time soon. Did you do this?”

“No. I didn’t do this at all.” He looks back at it. “Any of this. That bell, too, started before the words shifted.”

A portal opens, and Chat— the great and formidable Chat Noir, hunter of the damned and enemy of the sinner— steps back slowly from what he sees, getting closer to his father who walks at a languid pace up to the pedestal.

The portal is empty, like usual when they are portals to Earth, and he catches himself confused and sniffing the smoke that starts to drift through it.

“Chimaeram,” His father braces a hand on his shoulder. “It seems as if someone is trying to summon a demon.”

“I can tell—” Although the bell is certainly a surprise. “This entire time there’s been a summoning portal in the throne room?”

“I suppose I never had the time to tell you,” Plagg grins. There is something else swirling in his father’s eyes as he looks back down. “Perhaps you should go deal with the matters they require.”

“I’ll miss dinner,” His feet dig into the floor as his father gently tries to push him closer to the runestones. His ears flatten against his head as he all-but climbs his father’s shoulder to get away from the portal.

“You’ll eat enough there.”

“I— uh— haven’t made my bed.” Formidable Chat Noir… countless demonic wars…

Plagg snorts. “As if that’s ever stopped you before from neglecting to clean your room. I’ll get a maid to do it.”

“I’m— uh— oh, man, Dad I’m just so tired.”

“This summoning won’t take long. In fact, by the time you come back, you’ll have wished it had lasted longer.”

Wait, huh? “Hold on, do you know the person who’s summoning me?”

“I have an idea,” Plagg shrugs, humor glittering in those neon eyes of his. “Don’t tell your mother. I’d want this to be a surprise. You understand, don’t you?”

Who could this possibly be? Is it someone that the three of them know?

“The last time I went to Earth, it was wet. It rained for days. I hate the rain.” Not to mention that humans are obnoxiously frightened when they make eye contact with him. Such bad manners!

“Chat Noir, enjoy yourself. You’ll be dry soon enough.” His father— the king of hell— gently pushes him towards the portal that continues to smoke. “Now, go. Try not to start apocalypses. I need humans for a little while longer. Have some fun!”

Ugh. He hates going through portals. “Fine. I’ll be back soon. Don’t go redecorating my room, I know you’re itching to make me a better writing desk.”

He drops through the portal before he can see his father bark out a laugh.

-*-

Marinette screams.

“What the— ow— stop!” The man— no, the demon— flinches from her hands. Latin. The demon speaks Latin. She doesn’t stop smacking at his arms as she goes into hysterics. “What the hell? Stop! Ow!”

“What are— who are— what are you doing here?” She squeals in French on accident, waffling between hitting him more and backing away completely. At a stern glare given to her, she clams up, quickly folding her hands behind her and stepping away. She watches the demon dust off his pants with enough apprehension to fill her with unease, shoving her dusty and chalky hands back into the pockets of her apron.

“‘What am I doing here?’ You’re the one who summoned me and then started to hit me when I showed up, which, ow. What the absolute hell? Who does that? You should be put on a banned list of summoning— that’s no way to treat a demon.”

“Sweet Tikki,” She gasps. He speaks French as well? “That exists?”

“Depends. You are the one who summoned me, right?”

“I—” She clicks her jaw shut. “I didn’t summon you.”

“You most certainly did.” He huffs. “That’s why I came out of the portal.”

“That’s not a portal, y-you ass, that’s a rune.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “Do you always solve your problems with curses, witch? Verbal and physical? Your slaps will sting for days. And besides, that is most definitely not a rune. I wouldn’t have been able to come out of it if that were the case.”

What’s going on? She doesn’t have time for this! She’s busy— looking around her for at least a bucket or two, producing nothing— she tries her magic to make a bucket or at least a fountain— but the magic is solid in her palms, almost as if afraid to move another centimeter. She turns back to the demon who looks with absolute no hurry to help, and gestures to him to speak. “What do you want?”

“What?” His eyes snap up to meet hers again and she tries her best not to shake in her boots. Electric, hypnotic green eyes stare at her with enough intent to burn her to the quick, but instead of any genuine anger, he looks her over as if he’s trying to guess what to do next. “‘What do I want’? Don’t get snippy with me, you’re the one who summoned me!”

“Well, go back! I— I didn’t mean to summon you,” She tries not to cry. “My magic won’t move and I— I think it’s because I summoned you by accident— go home!”

“Okay, well, what were you even trying to do in the first place with your magic? Are you dancing?”

“Dancing?” She goes into hysterics again. “You— you think I’m— this— dancing?”

“Well, I don’t know a lot about humans I’ll be honest, even though my mom’s tried to teach me a lot there’s still a lot I don’t know, so maybe you’re doing a fire dance, or—” He pauses as she bites her lip to stop herself from crying. Something about his whole demeanor changes within an instant, like he’s deflated— he’s still looking at her with those cutting eyes, but they almost look sad as she takes her in. No doubt he’s mourning his freedom for the next however minutes as she tries to shove him back through the portal while still dealing with the fire spreading. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“No,” She bites her lip. What would be the point in lying? How could anyone be okay in this situation?

“What happened?”

Oh, Tikki— not even a simple protection spell works from her hands anymore! What is the point of her being the most prolific witch and her champion when all she does is mess everything up? And now she— she has a— a demon attempting to console her? Her eyes swell with tears that threaten to fall down her cheeks, and she spins, facing back to the burning house so that he doesn’t see it. “I— I was trying to write a rune down— but I ended up summoning you and— and I definitely don’t need a demon right now!”

“I can help—”

“No—” She whirrs back to him, “Absolutely not! I know your kind. You make promises to help but end up making fires worse— end up flooding the area when people ask for a cup of water— crush people with solid gold when they ask for more money.”

The demon pouts like a child at her, crossing his thick arms across his chest. “Oy! Those are pretty mean stereotypes, you know. I know you’re upset— though I still don’t actually know what you’re upset about— but that’s no reason for you to take it out on me, you know.”

She doesn’t have the energy to look surprised or confused by his very undemonlike personality. Instead, her vision wavers and goes blurry as she squeezes her eyes shut— ignoring the way that even with her eyes close, it’s still bright enough for it to be considered sunlight. “Please, I beg of you, please leave— I can’t do anything right. Least of all now— you’ll just make things all the more worse— go back home and— and l-leave me in this mess.”

“Let me try to help you. Please. I don’t like seeing people cry— it makes me feel useless. What did you try doing?”

“I tried saving my house,” She points with her face buried in her other hand. “This— this village doesn’t enjoy being in the presence of witches— and I thought— I thought I would be fine, because I’ve been helping with the sick and the ones who cannot afford food— but I was wrong. They called me names for the years we’ve been here, but we stayed because it was otherwise peaceful, and being this close to the ocean was good for my— my nerves—”

And the nightmares. Being closer to the ocean and being closer to Luka helped with the nightmares. Nightmares of empty beds and empty rooms and broken apple trees. Unmarked graves and missing golden-haired bodies.

The hysterics make it hard to breathe. “They’ve pushed my family out of the village— they’ve gone North to live with other family members and I promised I would work on our house to be perfect and fire-proof but I was too late— and— and now—”

And now her house is burning to the ground.

Is a Ladybug truly that terrifying? To send a mob to her house and try to smoke her out and send her packing to a larger town where they’re more accustomed to a witch? Many people don’t believe that one single witch should have the power to heal and create good fortune, it’s true— but how does any of it mean anything if she can’t have any of the good fortunes herself? She can’t even save her own house from burning— how much of a failure is she?

The demon stops, looking at her for a long time. No doubt this man has no idea how to console a woman crying in front of him, because his mouth pinches into a fine line that makes him look all the more terrifying. “You messed up the direction of your curves.”

Is that his attempt to make her feel better? What an absolute brute. “Wh—”

“Were you trying to do a protection spell? You ended up sending a destruction portal instead.”

She blinks back tears, startled enough in the conversation to respond. “I— I don’t mess up on things like that.”

“But you did. I’m standing in front of you because of it.” The demon looks behind him to the portal, a mass of blinding gold hair glinting in the firelight. It’s the color of spun gold— a beautiful color she can’t help but stare at. “You’re supposed to curve your lines to the right, not the left.”

“Oh. Uhm.”

“Well. At least you got me out of it.” He shrugs, looking back at her with a smile. “Could’ve been worse, honestly, it’s a good thing I was the one to step through the portal instead of whatever else hell has to offer.”

He speaks as if he’s any better than them.

“Not to worry, Princess, your knight is here to help,” He walks past her, towards what should be considered the front door of the house. Instead, it is nothing but flames and smoke, but if the demon feels any pain from the heat, he doesn’t react. He turns to face her, his smile almost inviting, as if he’s trying to convince her to follow him through the flames.

“Wait. ‘Princess’?” Is he making fun of her?

“That’s ‘night’ as in the night sky, by the way. You know. Pun.” He lifts his hands up, palms facing her, gesturing to the color. His arms look thick in that white shirt of his that he rolls up to his elbows to keep them clean, inspecting the damage of the house in front of them. His forearms are a beautiful gradient of tan and golden skin to pure voidless black, with long powerful black claws that look like they can tear anything to shreds with a simple flick of the wrist. She watches him with confusion, watches him with curiosity, watches with wide-open eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you, Princess—”

She startles, watching everything around her burn and turn to green fire.

The heat that licks up the sides of her house turns into an eruption of hypnotic green, as green as the demon’s eyes in front of her, and she finds it hard to focus on anything at all except the way he smiles and introduces his fangs. There’s a sudden wind that cuts through them both and scatters her hair in all directions, blasting the green fire up into a mushroom cloud that is stories and stories taller than it would ever be normally. The night sky is covered in green light and grey smog, completely and totally dominating the landscape.

The heat and light are enough to hurt her eyes, and she flinches back, shielding her face with a hand.

A bell rings. Loud, grave, almost omnipresent— the bell sounds like something she’d hear at a forgotten temple. At once her body is filled with dread and fear from the noise as if it were instinct to be afraid of a simple noise, but it fills the area with terror. Even though she’s close enough to the fire to burn, all she feels is chill and frost.

Gothic.

Horrific.

The fires recede from the walls of her house in two more blinks of the bell— turn into embers on the roof— the windows are completely intact like they hadn’t been singed in the first place.

She sags. Drops her jaw. And tries her best not to collapse.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

“You— you saved my house.”

“I did!”

“You saved my house by making the fire bigger.”

“Well, I can only undo things I’ve done. So. If I make it so that it’s my fire that’s burning your house down, I can just put out my fires.” He shrugs as if it’s obvious.

“What— or rather, who— are you?”

“Ah, right! Sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Chat Noir,” He bows, folding neatly at the waist, taking one of her hands in his to press a kiss into it, and all of a sudden she understands.

Sort of.

Something in her brain breaks.

“Chat— Chat Noir?”

“A fan of my work?” He looks back up at her with a grin. His fangs are wicked and sharp, but she doesn’t feel fear from it but rather curiosity.

“You’re Chat Noir? The—”

“The newest one, yes.” He’s towering— large— almost as tall as Luka— he straightens back up.

Sweet Tikki, everything about this man is large. He’s long arms with longer legs, dwarfing her in height like she’s a child as he looks down at her. He is pure strength and pure power, even as he gives his shoulders a stiff roll once he drops her hand. She cradles it to her chest, blinking at him with curiosity.

“The real Chat Noir? King Plagg’s champion?”

“Have you met that many demons trying to pretend to be me?” He lifts an expressive brow.

“Prove it—” She sucks in a breath. “Prove— prove to me. That you’re him.”

Has she… summoned him on complete accident? The most powerful demon in all the world, dropping in at her literal feet, cursing up a storm about how his ass hurts? What sort of luck is this? Is this Tikki’s doing?

“I just saved your house,” He deadpans. “You need more than that?”

“Just trust me and prove it.”

“You want me to do a magic trick?” He snorts, but there’s not a lot of humor in it, as confusion slowly starts to form on his face. No doubt he’s wondering as to why she’s asking him to trust her, or something of the sort. “There’s not much that I can do to show you who I am, I mean, it’s not like I have a certificate of some kind or something—”

She opens up her magic.

She opens it as much as she can— it’s a little stiff, since she doesn’t do this often, and she imagines that there are creases in her magic like she’s opening up a bolt of cloth that’s been pressed and folded in a particular way. Her magic is woozy and not at all in a uniform shape from the amount of magic she’d put into opening the portal, but Chat straightens at the feeling of her tentatively brushing up against him. It almost looks ridiculous at how ramrod straight he goes, his tail lashing behind him and his ears going completely stiff.

Their magic interlock with each other. Chat’s magic molds hers back into shape, pressing and ironing her into swirls that should be more accustomed to her magic. She exhales shakily, pushing and pulling against him, feeling whole as they balance each other out. Every time she pushes into him, he pushes back— every time he pulls, she pulls just as strongly.

It’s his turn to drop his jaw. “You—”

“My name is Marinette,” She wipes at her eyes, feeling giddy at how perfect they fit together. They’re two puzzle pieces. “I’m— uhm— I’m the Queen’s champion.”

“You’re Ladybug.” His eyes widen. “You— you’re my mother’s champion?”

“Mother?”

“Hold on—” He tilts his head. “The bell. That was you?”

“What bell? The bell we just heard? That was your bell, wasn’t it?”

“Not that bell,” He waves his hand. “That bell only plays when I really use my Chat Noir magic, but we know that already, right?”

“Uhm.”

“I’m talking about the bell I heard when the portal opened. That bell. You used your Ladybug powers to open that portal.”

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She sounds so weak with argument, following him closer to the front door. “M-my magic doesn’t make a bell noise.”

“It sounded so pure. So clean. So— so divine.”

She steams red. “D-divine? What does that mean?”

He turns back to the house, ignoring her. “Are you telling me someone tried to burn my Ladybug’s house down?”

His? What? “I—”

“Oh. Oh, that won’t do at all, will it?” Electric green eyes scan the area around them, looking for people. He looks back at her after a moment and smiles so handsomely that Marinette feels herself start to steam red at the sheer absurdity of the night. “Well, fellow prodigy, I’ll help you out. What is it that you desire? Anything in the world, dear Princess, since you’ve successfully summoned your other half.”

-*-

She loves the festival.

And even more so, she loves the people it brings.

North, south— people from the east are here, as well, congregated in their village and making it full to the brim. Witches, humans, lots of naga, and a few demons that Chat has sniffed menacingly at, too, are all here at the festival and the amount of traffic is enough to make her squeal. The field is big, and massive, a good ten acres across, but even still, it’s almost cramped with the amount of people that occupy the space for the week-long festival. She might have to make new charms. She might not actually have enough.

Hopefully she can remember.

There are people everywhere populating the field, and she leads Chat by the wrist through the throng of people as they continue to mingle and celebrate. The wagons flank them on every side, having made a market on one half of the field, with endless rows of market wagons and pitched tents in their attempt to sell. The marketplace is filled with torches as merchants sell oddities of all kinds— and her eyes snag on a couple of fabrics that are alluring to the eyes, before Chat snorts behind her and pushes her forward with a gentle and massive hand.

They could just go through the other half, instead of going through the market— the other half is allotted for the dancing, the singing, the music that pounds and fiddles through the crowd like a hypnotic syren’s call— and, of course, it’s home of the fire— but she’s being a little selfish and is enjoying the sights and sounds and smells of the marketplace. She tries her hardest not to let her feet dig into the trodden grass when she sees a cart selling various amounts of cheese, and has to be pushed along gently with Chat’s knowing smile when there’s a cart for more honey.

Meanwhile, Chat’s hands haven’t stopped twitching to go join the dancing festival on the other side.

Pyromaniac.

She’s so thankful she’s made the charms.

She’s put a couple on herself, just in case— she’d tied one on each of her boots, hidden away from Chat’s knowing eyes, just to give him the impression that she’s not afraid of being accidentally burnt from his shifty hands.

“What is it that you wanted to show me, again?” He doesn’t yell, but he does talk loud, even as he leans over to talk into her ear when they finally pull away from a vendor that’s making it his mission to sell her a new sash. It’s hard for them to hear, and she’s glad she’s put a muffler spell on her familiar so that his ears don’t continue to ring for the next ten months from all the noise.

“I found something I think you’d like,” She gestures back to him, just to make it more obvious what she’s saying. If he misunderstood or didn’t hear what she’s said, he doesn’t voice it— at least, she thinks— instead, clasping his hand with hers.

Oh, it’s perfect. What she wouldn’t give to hold his hand for the rest of time! She tries not to look at the size difference between their hands, nor the difference in color, with his blackened hand and palm wrapped around her lily-white one, and tries her best not to shy away as she continues to walk slowly through the masses of people.

She leads him to the back of the field.

Or tries, at least.

It’s slow work making her way there because people stop to thank her and ask for her blessings when they recognize her. There’s lots of gesturing to her dress and her lack of any actual witch hat, to which all she does is laugh— she’s never been fond of the giant hats because they’re always falling and curtaining her vision— and tries to make polite conversation with those that stop her. At times, when someone really wants to speak to her, she puts them all in a bubble to let them speak more clearly, muffling the noise of the bonfire and the drums even more, giving Chat a bit of reprieve. Chat stays behind her with a small smile, his claws always brushing against the back of her neck as she pulls away enough to pull out a charm from her pocket or satchel, telling them that it’ll wade off and protect them, should the bonfire at the other side of the field get too big.

She makes sure to close the bubbles.

Rinse wash and repeat.

All the way until they get to the far northern end of the field.

Her shoes are muddy, and no doubt that Chat’s collected about two basket-fulls of dirt between his toes, because even though this is a festival and the both of them need to look presentable, there’s no amount of persuasion in the world that will convince Chat to wear shoes. Maybe she can remember to put another spell on him, even if it’s a waste of magic.

“Chat,” She whispers with a knowing smile, when they finally make it and he presses her into a tree from the woods that lines the area. She always feels so small when he has his arms bracketing her, shadowing her away from the rest of the festival. Like this, she’s almost completely covered and hidden away like a secret, if only it weren’t for the ruby color of her dress.

His smile is so wolfish as he looks down at her with his familiar and hypnotic eyes. “Is this what you wanted to show me, Princess?”

“Tease,” She huffs, sighing when his tongue finds its way into her mouth. He herds her away from the noise with a smile, presses kisses onto her lips that make her feel like gelatin, hiding the two of them by guiding her to the other side of the tree. She can’t see anything, now, because the woods are completely dark compared to the festival that brims with light— all she sees is two electric green eyes with diamond pupils staring at her, his outline barely visible as her eyes continue to adjust in the darkness.

She can see the thin outline of the tattoo on his chest, a hazy purple covered by his clean shirt. She’s traced the design over and over with her fingertips already— and finds herself longing to do it again and again until she can draw it from memory.

“Says the beautiful girl who’s decided to slip away from a celebration that is for her.”

“The celebration isn’t for me—” She gasps against his mouth when a hand curls around her waist and pulls her close, pressing her chest into his diaphragm. Her skirts are long and full, but unstructured underneath, giving Chat enough space to pull her completely flush against him without any sort of obstruction, and, oh. He’s so warm. She’s well aware that his massive hand fits perfectly around the small of her waist, but it feels a little different doing it in public, even if they are currently hiding in the shadow. Can anyone see them? Does it even matter? All she wants to do is melt into his touch like she had the previous day. “It’s for the people. And I didn’t— I didn’t slip away.”

“Of course.”

“I’m telling the truth,” She lies, trying her best not to dissolve into giggles. She reaches up with her hands to pet at his ears, cupping them and giving them a good squeeze with her thumbs. Chat erupts into purrs while trying to tell her not to mess up his hair, and she smiles, knowing how long it took for them to get his messy mane looking more presentable. “This isn’t slipping away. This is just us trying to save your ears from getting permanent damage.”

His voice is whisper-quiet against her mouth as he pulls away enough to smile at her, his eyes still glowing, such a beautiful electric green. No doubt he can see the corners of her smile starting to twitch, or her brow starting to pinch from the attempt to persuade him to believe her, or how her eyes continue to drop down to the demonic seal that warms the air between them from how close she is to him. “I don’t believe you.”

She has the decency to blush. “Okay, fine. I just wanted to show you the fruit here.”

“Ah, yes yes yes—” His claws find their way into her hair, and locks of it spill over her shoulders. Wait a minute— did he pull her braid loose? How rude! She’ll have to magic her hair back into a more appropriate hairstyle. “How could I have forgotten about the fruit. I’ll take a guess and say you’re trying to show me an apple?”

“They’re everywhere in Paris, I agree—” She sighs. His mouth against hers feels like the fire from the festival— crackling, splintering, empowering. One kiss to her jaw and she’s melting like magma, and he supports her with that hand around her waist, tight enough to break yet soft enough to cradle. “I felt like you’d be more impressed.”

“Work on your cover stories, my Lady,” He laughs softly against her neck. She shivers at the hint of fang against her skin. “Do you want to go home for a bit? We can just say that your magic needs to recuperate. No one doubt it, after all, you and I have kept our magic open for what feels like hours.”

That’s right. She pulls away enough for him to whine. “Chat—”

“Not again, Princess, come back—”

“I don’t want to hurt you!”

“You’re hurting me by not letting me kiss you. Come here, you lovely witch, I’m not done.” And he makes it into a promise. He kisses her enough for her to forget her train of thought, and she finds herself wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and neck as he kisses her hard enough for her to groan into his mouth.

She pulls away again before he convinces her otherwise. “Are you sure you’re not hurting from our magic being open?”

“Beautiful witch, always making sure I’m okay,” He teases, but sobers up quickly when she purses her lips. “I’m okay, Marinette, I promise.”

“But we’ve been stretching it for hours—”

“I’m never hurting when I’m with you,” He shrugs.

“Chat,” She tries to warn him, but can’t find herself paying attention all that much as she smooths a hand against his chest and down his torso. He is solid heat and embers against her fingertips.

“This is a lot better,” He admits with another kiss, “I used to keep my magic open all the time back home, because there was my dad to push back against me. The only way to really hurt yourself is if you don’t have someone there holding you together, which is what happened with you with my dad because he hadn’t realized what he was doing— anyway, I just made sure not to stretch it out too much when we first met.”

But her magic’s only expanded this wide in the past couple of days, which means… “So this is normal for you?”

“It is.” His hand manages to leave her hair, only to cup her jaw and cheek instead. His thumb rubs softly against her face, lulling her into a comfort that makes her understand why he purrs under her hand so much. “Your magic and soul have always felt like a hummingbird to me. I was always afraid to put it under any strain of that kind, so I never wanted you to open it up all the way.”

“Such a gentleman,” She murmurs, no actual sarcasm as she says it. “You always take so good care of me.”

“I love you.” He kisses her soft enough for it to hurt.

“I know,” Her eyes slip shut. “I love you too. You’ve made me so happy, Chat, I could cry.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. You said something about meeting someone?”

“I think he was talking about me,” A third voice clears the area, and Marinette stiffens into stone with a squeal, looking into the darkness of the woods for a body that matches the voice. Chat groans at the voice, whoever it is, sagging against her like he’s trying to mentally prepare himself to deal with whatever it is. “Or either of us, honestly.”

“It could be you, my sweet. I’ve already met her.”

“So I heard,” The first voice laughs. “You sent her into a fright, you know. Prayers sent left and right apologizing that she had accidentally confessed to you.”

“Oh, come on. Are we going to do this now?” Chat huffs. “No, no, shoo. Out. I’m busy. You’re always interrupting!”

“Chimaeram, don’t be so rude,” There’s laughter so rich and decadent that it feels homely.

“We’re busy—” Chat makes a flat-pitched noise at the back of his throat. “Come on. How come you two are completely silent when you two want to be? I couldn’t even smell you two, I thought a cheese wheel had gotten tossed into the woods on accident— but that was you?”

“We’ve been enjoying the festival! Should we be smelling some other way?”

“You smell like an entire cheese, Dad.”

“‘Dad’?” Marinette squeaks. Oh, she’s so thankful that Chat’s holding her by the waist so she doesn’t buckle and faint— wait— hold on— they’re in a compromising position! She pushes against Chat’s chest, turning redder and redder when he doesn’t let go but rather tightens his grip. “‘Mom’?”

“Your father got to the cheese cart before I could stop him,” The first voice sighs. “I tried to stop him, starlight, I really did.”

“Cheese is delicious.”

“How did you two even go into the festival?”

“We can change our heights, you know,” The first voice laughs. Airy, light, and twinkling— it almost sounds like the stars themselves are laughing. “Easier to blend in with humans when you’re at a human height.”

“Are you— never mind. We’ll talk about this later. Can you two leave us for a little while?” Chat grumbles.

“What is happening,” Marinette whispers to herself, searching the shadows for any sign of life.

“You can’t see us, can you, Ladybug? Aye— it’s too dark for you, isn’t it?”

Chat groans again. “Dad— no. Mom, tell him not to use fire—”

“I really don’t think this is wise, dearest—”

Something hits the dirt floor with a thunk. The trees around them light with an otherworldly glow— a hypnotic green that reminds her of Chat’s tattoo before it had changed color. It is not fire, but it is light— towering up to the tallest branch and lighting up the clearing with enough ambiance that she can see.

Tall.

Massive.

Goodness, the people in front of her are tall enough to clear mountains. She can’t see well, as the green light still makes dark shadows, but she can make out the basics.

The form on the left wears what looks like to be a white robe tied at the natural waist with a golden rope. The clothes look completely out of fashion, her arms and the top of her chest showing, with only two thick beads holding the straps in place— but she doesn’t shiver from any cold. Instead, she seems to glow with warmth herself, with her mass of fiery curls braided and plaited into patterns down her back to show glowing blue earrings with a matching band that goes across the temples.

Almost as if a crown?

A crown for a— for a queen.

“Hold on, hold on, something’s not right here.” The shorter of the two hums, tapping on her chin in thought. She snaps her fingers, and the green glow changes to a warm orange as if it were a sunset licking at their faces. Marinette can see every freckle on her skin now, almost as if they’re… poppy seeds. “That’s better. Humans don’t see well in green light, dearest, it’s important to accommodate them.”

If the first person is considered tall, the second is considered inhumanely giant.

Marinette recognizes those cutting green eyes that are framed with coiled and dreadlocked hair that seem to turn into mist at the edges. Those ears, too, she recognizes the shape of them! Even as the giant man in front of her is clad in nothing but a dark, shapeless robe, clasped together by a thick leather strap at the shoulder, she looks back to Chat with her jaw slowly dropping, then back at the unknown man.

The eyes are identical.

Electric green with diamond-shaped pupils— humor in his eyes as if someone has just recently told a joke— holding a staff made out of wood.

She gasps. “I—”

“I wanted to do this in a more approachable way,” Chat sighs into his hand, his other still tight and cinched on her waist. “But as always, my parents are always so full of haste— I’ll chew them out later for this, I promise.”

What does she even focus on first? “Parents?”

At least Chat looks apologetic. “Yes. Marinette, this is my mother and father.”

Is she going to faint? “Oh. So it is.”

“We’ve met before,” The second form smiles with wide lips. “I even got a good scolding from you, but it’s nice to be able to respond to you without having to meow.”

“King Plagg?” She squeaks out. “The cat— was— was really you?”

“You did not imagine I actually was a cat for most of my time, did you?” His laughter feels rich against the trees. His voice makes her feel like she’s witnessing history unfolding at her feet, full of wisdom and age, something that reflects in his eyes. His eyes are kind, even as they are sharp enough to break through anyone’s demeanor, with fine and soft lines crinkling at the sides of his face. He can’t be older than sixty, but honestly, calling him fifty is already pushing it too high as it is.

He has the face of a father.

“I scolded the king—” Marinette hides her mouth behind her hands with a gasp. “Oh— oh, no— I am so sorry—”

Plagg bursts out laughing. Louder, like he’s unaware of how much space he takes, and he moves his staff to hit against the grassy floor again as he shifts to wrap an arm around the woman to his left. “I see why Chat is smitten with you, little Ladybug. You had been so sure of yourself the last time we spoke!”

“It’s— it’s a little different speaking to a cat—” She eeps.

“Don’t mind him,” The woman speaks with a roll of her eyes, looking fondly up to the man that continues to laugh, placing a delicate hand on Plagg’s chest as if to hold him back. “It’s hardly a bad thing for him to be put in his place from time to time, dearest.”

Oh, she is going to faint. “If he’s the king, then— then— then you—”

“Yes,” Beautiful blue eyes, soft at the edges, looking at her with a familiarity that shouldn’t exist. They’ve never met before… but it doesn’t matter, does it? “It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet you, and speak to you, my sweet Ladybug.”

“Tikki—” She’s so thankful for the hand around her waist. “You’re Tikki— oh—”

“She’s going to faint,” Chat tries to wave them off. “Can you two not freak her out? Shouldn’t you two have introduced yourself one at a time? You two are horrible at this.”

“We’ve only done this a couple of times,” Plagg shrugs. “Forgive us for not being professionals at this.”

“You’d think with how old they are, they’d have more experience in introducing themselves to their respected champion,” Chat rolls his eyes, shaking his head in Marinette’s direction like they’re sharing a secret.

“I don’t feel so good,” Marinette whispers.

“It’s the height, isn’t it? I can transform into my cat form—”

“No more cat nonsense, you both cats have had enough fun teasing Marinette to last a whole lifetime.” Tikki snorts with a knowing smile. She reaches for Marinette’s face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, touching her glowing earlobe. Her touch is soothing, liquid and butter and balmy, and she finds herself dropping her eyelids slowly at the touch. “Let her breathe, Chat, she’s feeling claustrophobic, you hold her like we’re going to take her away from you!”

“Won’t you?” Chat sniffs.

“Behave, starlight.” Tikki laughs, tapping Chat’s nose with a fingertip, before turning back to Marinette. “Why don’t we sit down? Perhaps I can convince Plagg to share his cheese. Everything is made better with food, after all.”

AO3 | Start Here | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[marvelslut16]

Your usual?

Pairing: Jack Castello x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) is a waitress at a diner down the street from Ace studios. Many aspiring actors and actresses end up there each day after being rejected. But she becomes friends with one of her regulars, Jack Castello. She falls in love with him over many cups of coffee, but will he love her back, especially since she’s only a waitress?

Word count: 2,232

Warnings: (Y/N)’s parents and best friend are assholes. Like one swear word I think. A slight sexual innuendo. 

A/n: I didn’t expect so many of you guys to like my last Jack fic! Thank you guys so much for the support, it means the world to me. Truthfully, I have a love hate with this fic, but I hope you guys like it more than I do lmao.  Obviously this spoils the plot of the show.

You worked in a little diner down the street from Ace studios, it was made from the body of an old metro dining car. Respectively named crossroads diner, you had to wonder if there was a double meaning. Alex, the owner, swears that it's named after railroad crossings; but it made you think about the whispers about men and women selling their souls to make it big here in Hollywoodland. You didn’t dwell on the name too much, it paid good money and you got good tips. So every day you wake up and put on your uniform: a blue collared dress, sensible black heels, and a little white apron.

You get a rush of customers right after noon everyday, dejected men and women in their late twenties and early thirties fill the diner. You had lots of regulars, aspiring actors and actresses coming to eat their sorrows away and drown in bottomless coffee when they don’t get picked to be a walk on. But by far, your favorite regular was Jack Castello. He always ordered a cup of coffee- black, and a cheeseburger with a side of fries. 

Jack Castello the owner of the biggest most beautiful blue eyes to ever exist. He’s so bright eyed and bushy tailed that you envy him, the joy the smallest things in this town can spark. Even though you aren’t supposed to, it's bad for business and your tips, you always find time to steal away and talk to him when he stops in. If he flashed you those blue puppy dog eyes, you swear you’d do whatever the man asked you to.

It had been months since Jack had last come in, every day you would watch the door and hope he would enter. But he never did, you wondered how he was, what he was up to these days. So when the bell jingled alerting you that another customer had entered the diner, you didn’t even bother to hope. Your coworker's infant was sick so you picked up her shift for her, so you had been on your feet for close to twelve hours now, you just wanted every customer to leave. But then you looked up and saw those bright blue eyes, and could quite literally feel your spirits rise as you smiled at Jack. 

“Well look who finally came back to visit me,” you grin, leaning on the counter that stood between you two. He had brought a friend with him tonight, who was smiling at the interaction between you and Jack. They took seats at the bar top, Jack didn’t bother to pick up one of the menus. 

“It’s been a while,” he gave you a soft smile, as you grabbed the fresh pot of coffee from behind you to pour him a cup. He just grins at you for a minute before his friend clears his throat, causing Jack to turn and smile at the man. “This is my buddy, Archie.”

“Pleasure to meet you sweetheart,” you smile politely as you shake the man's hand. “What can I get you tonight?” you lean across the counter pulling out your notepad for his order. 

“I’ll have a coffee too,” he glances at Jack who is already halfway done with his cup. You laugh, grabbing another cup for Archie before topping Jack’s off. “But other than that I’m not sure, Whatcha’ getting Jack?”

“Probably his usual, an american sizzler with a side of  hot chips?” he grins and nods at you, those big blue eyes practically glowing in excitement that you remembered what he likes. 

“It’s a cheeseburger and fries,” Jack clarifies, even though Archie had already known. You hide a smile of amusement behind your own cup of coffee as Archie gives you a look that screams are you kidding me. 

“I’ll take the same,” he says before smiling at you. 

“Great, that should be up shortly,” you grin at both men. You quickly take the note to the chef, before filling other patrons drinks. 

You don't get back over to Archie and Jack until their food is done, much to your disappointment. Luckily, most of the other customers had left so you could stay and chat with them. Jack explains, between large bites, that he became a contract player at Ace studios and that’s why he hadn’t come in in weeks. 

“Wow sugar!” you grin so wide that it hurts your face, ignoring the fact that he left a few months out of his explanation. “That’s fantastic! Something tells me you’re gonna make it big!” 

“Archie sold a script and I’m auditioning for the lead!” he practically bounces in his seat, and one glance at the silver ring on his finger reminds you that you have to ignore the way your heart flutters. 

“That's amazing! Both of you!” you turn to look at Archie now. “So what’s the script?”

“It’s about Peg Entwistle,” his face lights up as he talks, making it obvious that he truly loves writing. “The British woman who jumped off the hollywoodland sign after she got cut from the movie she was in.”

“Oh wow, that sounds interesting,” you give Archie a sad smile. “Sad, but interesting. About being an outsider,” it comes out as more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Archie nods. “So tell me, (Y/N), what brought you to Hollywoodland?”

“Well, I was doing community theater with my friend back home when a talent scout approached us,” you admit for the first time, lifting a weight you didn’t know you had, off your shoulders. “He wanted the two of us to come out here, audition for pictures together. He said we had great chemistry, and liked our banter.” 

“You never told me this,” there's sadness in Jack’s eyes and you can’t figure out why, it’s not something you go around telling people.

“You two are the first people I’ve told,” you try to reassure him. “Anyway, my parents didn’t want me coming out here, they said that I would never make it. I had saved up enough money to buy a one way ticket, and had enough left over for my friend and I to split rent for a few months. My parents parting words to me were not to crawl back to them when I got rejected.”

“What happened?” Jack is leaning forward, completely invested in your story. You blink back tears at the horrid memories of the fight with your parents, and then your friend abandoning you. 

“My parents were right. I wasn’t good enough for this town, sugar. My friend is a contract player now, she’s getting pretty famous too. The moment she knew she was good, the moment people started to treat her differently because she became this larger than life character the studio made her out to be, was the moment she started treating me like shit and left me. So now I’m a lonely struggling waitress, that’s the reality of this town.”

“I’m so sorry,” Archie’s voice drips with sympathy and empathy. 

“Thanks,” you smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. 

“You should audition for Peg!” Jack practically shouts. 

“Oh no, my acting days are way behind me,” he seems to deflate at your words. “Anyway, slice of apple pie?” you gesture behind you to the last two pieces of pie left on the serving platter. 

“You know me so well,” Jack beams at you, blue eyes round and happy again. Making your heart flutter yet again. 

“Well I have to, gotta keep my favorite customer coming back,” your smile and tone are borderline flirtatious, and so is the way you lean across the bar top to get closer to him. 

Jack gulps as his eyes flick down to your lips, acutely aware of how close to two of you actually are. Archie smirks into his almost empty coffee mug, trying not to laugh at Jack’s reaction to you. Before Jack can lean forward and close the distance between you, something he was talking himself into doing, you pull away and grab the last two slices of pie for the men. 

You run to the kitchen to grab the bowl of homemade whipped cream, just because they put it in cans now didn’t mean the diner used them. There was no way they would taste as good. You put a giant dollop on Jack’s slice, knowing how much he loves the rich topping. You offer Archie some, giving him a dollop about the same size as his friends. There was a spoonful left in the bowl, quickly checking to make sure your boss and the cook weren’t around, you devour it. You look Jack directly in the eyes as you slowly lick the fluffy cream from the spoon. He chokes on his pie and goes red in the face as he watches you. This time Archie can’t hold back his laugh. 

“You okay sugar?” you feign innocence.

It had been months since that night in the diner. Jack hasn't come in since. You read in the paper that he was cast as the love interest in the movie, now entitled Meg and following an African American woman. “Good for him,” you murmur to yourself, happy that someone with so much talent and passion got the role. That Jack got it.

“Good afternoon (Y/N),” Archie’s grabs your attention from the counter you had been cleaning.

“Hey sweetheart,” your heart falls a little when you see that the tall dark haired man next to him isn’t Jack. This man is larger, has broader shoulders, seems like he’s all brawn. “Who’s this?”

“This is Rock,” you watch the way Archie’s hand caresses Rock’s shoulder after he gave it a pat during the introduction. “He’s an actor.”

“Nice to meet ya,” you smile at how flustered the larger man gets when you lean in close to him. “What can I get you both?”

“Two of Jack’s usual,” Archie answers, Rock just sits there, still flustered. 

“Comin’ right up,” you pour them coffee and head off with their order. 

“He’s getting a divorce,” Archie tells you as you set their food down.

“Huh?” you ask, trying to get the hope bubbling in your gut to simmer down. 

“Jack and his wife, she was cheating on him,” you gasp at the news. 

“Is he okay?” your brow creases in concern.

“Yeah, he’s hurting, but he’ll be okay,” Archie sounds so sure of himself. “He wasn’t in love with her anymore, don’t think he ever was.” 

“Give him my best,” you smile sadly. “And I hope your romantic endeavors fare better than Jacks,” you give Archie a knowing look, winking at the writer.  

More months pass without Jack or Archie stopping in. You read in the papers that there's a romance blossoming between Jack and up and comer Claire Woods. You held back tears, you never would have worked anyway. You were just a waitress, Jack was always going to end up with someone better, someone as talented as him. 

Bing Crosby’s silky smooth voice plays from the jukebox in the back corner, filling the entire diner with his words. It was early yet, the rush from the studio hasn’t come in yet. The bell jingles, you go to welcome the customer when your eyes meet familiar blue ones. 

“Jack?” you ask softly, shocked that he’s there. You quickly pour a cup of coffee for him, it’s sitting on the counter before he gets to his seat. “Your usual?”

“Not today,” you look up from your pad, shocked by his words. “I’m here for a date.”

“When will she get here?” you put on a fake smile, hopefully masking your hurt. 

“I don’t have a date, I need one,” he says confidently. “For Meg’s premiere.” 

“What about someone from the movie?” you ask, wondering why he came to talk to you about this. 

“No, no one from Meg,” nervousness swims in those deep pools of blue. “So will you go with me?”

“Me?” you ask, accidentally dropping your pad of paper. 

“Yeah you,” he gives you a dopey smile. “I really like you (Y/N), and I want you to be my date.”

“But-” your mouth opens and closes like a fish. “I-I thought you were with Claire, that’s what the paper said.”

“Claire is my friend,” Jack hops onto the counter and slides over to the inside, so he’s standing directly in front of you. His hand comes up to caress your cheek, you can’t help but lean into his large warm palm. “I only have eyes for you.”

“I like you too, Jack,” he leans down, finally capturing your lips with his. The rest of the world fades away, all you can focus on is how soft and plump his lips are. After months and months of pining, you finally got to kiss him!

“So you’ll go with me?” he asks between more kisses. 

“Of course!” you pull him back to you by the collar of his shirt. 

“You have to audition for my next picture,” Jack's blue eyes are loving and sincere. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Now that I have my date,” the pad of his thumb soft and soothing as it slides over your cheekbone. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“I’ll get you your usual, sugar,” you peck his lips one last time before shooing him back to the other side of the counter.

forever tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

people who were interested in me writing for Jack: @elleclairez​ @antoouu​ @dianaothemyscira​  @senethmamandi​ @daughterofthesunanditsangels​ @writeroutoftime​

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 82: Rita Skeeter's Scope

Frank landed spread eagle and bounced several times uncomfortably, head spinning even worse. Forcing himself to pay attention, he looked quickly at all the accompanying crashes and groans to see everyone was still alright and no worse for wear, Alice had landed on a table so sturdy it hadn't moved an inch and was large enough she was several feet off the ground. So was Frank for that matter, this bed looked comfortable enough it would have fit all eight of them if they'd piled on. The more he looked in fact, everything in here was larger than average, including the giant boarhound having a lovely sniff around the older Black, who was grinning and patting the dog on the head. Then Frank grimaced in unease as it clicked where they were, and he hastily leaped from the bed and wondered if Hagrid was going to come stomping in the door any moment.

They hadn't come across any humans though, not even ghosts according to the Marauders Map, but Hagrid wasn't all the way human he now knew...neither was Lupin, he mentally corrected himself, and he was hopping along just fine.

He was having the roughest go of it though, he acknowledged quietly to himself, as the guy swayed on the spot and looked rather gray as he glanced at the window. Despite the clear sun still bright, he managed to look as if several weeks had passed since the last time they met, and maybe it had. How badly did the full moon affect him even when he wasn't in the body of a monster trying to eat them?

There weren't house-elves about though, but animals a plenty. What was the baseline for who stayed and went then? Intelligence? The missing House-elves from the kitchens all but confirmed this theory the more he thought about it, and despite his ah, brutal nature, Hagrid was most definitely of human intelligence. Then Frank winced at his own analytical thoughts, Hagrid had never been violent to a soul. Neither had Lupin really, before he'd nearly murdered them all. He was the most mild of the Marauders, everyone knew he just laughed along or stayed out of the way, but rarely participated. It was hard to keep what he'd read about beasts and actually knowing of the two in line, how misconstrued were texts then?

"Frank?" He looked up in surprise to see Alice holding his hand and Lily giving him an odd look, he must have been quite spaced out in his own thoughts.

"Sorry darling, what was that?" He asked politely, dragging his eyes away from the door Lupin was still leaning against, watching Potter read with only half his attention about whatever Rita Skeeter's Scope was going to be about, nobody had taken a liking to her articles, most of his attention was focused on messing with Hagrid's pink umbrella he was apparently trying to get to work. The older Black had curled up in Fang's bed with the massive dog, the two cuddling and looking sickeningly adorable for it. Pettigrew and the younger Black were still up at the table, scraping their nails against what were presumed to be the infamous rock cakes.

"I was asking if you were alright, you've got bits of blood all over you," she squeezed his hand and already had her wand drawn, but her face still looked rather pinched. He knew he'd upset her again by having watched Lupin so long, but he just didn't understand why he was the only one who still was. As far as he could tell, nobody had really looked twice at him since the incident had happened, why was he the only one who still seemed aware how dangerous Lupin could be? At least, that's what every book he'd ever read about them said, they were always considered apex predators whether it was a full moon or not.

Maybe just full grown werewolves though, he tried to more clearly define. Lupin was still a teenager, an adolescent. Maybe the older he got the worse it would get, but for now he was still holding it in? Maybe that's why he didn't participate in the Marauders' pranks, he wasn't trying to tempt himself?

They'd heard of him full grown though, he argued back with himself, still unhappy at this clear lack of answers. He'd been a teacher at school for a year with zero problems, and he'd definitely been an adult by then, this was nearly twenty years into their future after all. The night of the full moon he hadn't even murdered anyone while loose on the grounds. Perhaps that wolfsbane potion had some sort of latent effect on him? While he hadn't taken it that night, he had been taking it for months previously, perhaps that had just dulled his senses?

"Frank?" This time he did hear Alice call his name, the concern in her voice evident as she inspected his exposed skin as if looking for something else she could fix.

"What kind of plant did you land in? Can you describe it?" Lily asked clinically, but there was concern in her voice as well.

"I'm alright," he quickly reassured them both. "I'm just, ah, thinking."

Lily didn't look particularly convinced, but Alice gave a soft laugh and a kiss on the cheek, distracting him all the more. "It's alright Lily, he's been known to be in his head for ages." Her eyes were still trained on him though, it was clear she wanted to know what had so caught him up, but he pursed his lips and didn't answer, skin still twitching uncomfortably in the present company. She didn't press him on that, and he loved her all the more for it.

In a very obvious chance to change the subject, he asked them, "Any guesses about that egg then?"

"Maybe, it'll act like a key during the next task?" Alice offered. "It'll, unlock something he has to use for the next part."

"They said it was a clue in itself though," Lily corrected, her eyes sparkling with joy once more, she clearly loved a puzzle. "Also, I don't think it would make noise if that was the case. You might be on the right track though, Harry may have to use it somewhere in particular to make it work."

"You think if he opened it underground, like in the dungeons, it would make a different noise?" Frank nursed the idea.

"Something like that, yes," Lily grinned in delight. "Cedric's clue of taking a bath with it certainly indicates it needs some special circumstances to activate the clue," she finished intensely. Frank wondered, before all this started, how long she'd gone without talking to anyone to be doing so with such enthusiasm now as she propelled off the idea into other avenues, mentioned a few potions she wished she could dunk the egg in to see the properties it housed.

Alice found herself going cross-eyed in moments as the two started bouncing ideas off each other, quickly slipping into plants, potions, and even spells she hadn't heard of. Alice swung their hands together and patiently let herself be ignored in their fun. Frank only had two other dormmates, and while they didn't outright ignore him, she got the feeling they didn't go out of their way to include him either.

She instead began listening to the others chatting around her. Potter had not gotten Hagrid's wand/umbrella to work for him and was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, the book in his lap to more easily flip pages while his hands were tossing a golden apple about, she had no idea where he'd gotten that. Remus Lupin looked like he was falling asleep right against the door, even a new development such as Grubbly-Plank mysteriously taking over the class was only just keeping his eyes open it seemed.

Hagrid was indisposed? What could that mean, Alice wondered on as she looked around more critically in his home for clues, but she'd never been in here to know if anything was out of place. There was no fire going, despite the snow on the windowsill, but he could have been out on the grounds as a gamekeeper was want to do and it interfered with his class for once. His bed was rumpled, but that could have been from Frank landing on it. From what they'd heard of his cooking, the food could have been days old or brand new and they'd never tell the difference. She really hoped Harry went over there to check on him after class. After that, spat, he'd had with Maxime, the poor guy clearly needed a friend.

Potter winced in surprise when he did seem to get to the reason, Skeeter's Scoop indeed.

"-That awful woman," Lily cut off what she'd been saying to scowl at the book in Potter's lap rather than the boy for once, still an odd sight. "How dare she spread his secret like that, Harry's bad enough!"

"You don't think others have a right to know?" Frank asked her in surprise.

"Not in this way," she tossed her hair and didn't even seem to register Frank's odd tone. Alice did, and she frowned up at him once more. "That bloody woman will completely misconstrue Hagrid just like she has been Harry. Even if by some miracle she doesn't, what does it matter as he's no threat to anyone."

Frank was frowning in unease by the end, tugging on his robes and looking very deep in thought once more. Alice sighed as she realized what he'd been debating this time, and she still deeply disapproved of his very black and white stance on this subject. Didn't being around Remus Lupin and Hagrid the past six years prove there was more to this than the stories they'd heard growing up?

Potter was protesting this article as vehemently as Lily was, and Alice got a bit of personal amusement at least those two were agreeing on something with so much vigor neither even seemed to realize it. Their child followed in their footsteps, he seemed in no way ready to let the matter end there about Hagrid and she was not the only one smiling at the kids' reaction to this as well. Sadly, Hagrid was not forthcoming, and Alice did notice the heavy-looking lock on his door was indeed shut tight enough Hagrid himself would have a job of breaking it down.

The passage of time was weighing all of them down as the Hogsmeade trip came and went in a blast of a fashion. Between Ludo Bagman's bizarre interactions and Skeeter all but rubbing in what she'd done, they all would have taken a crack at getting a chance to talk to Hagrid same as Hermione by the end. Of course none of them were expecting Dumbledore of all people to be in here, but trying to picture him sitting at the table with Hagrid and chatting with his friend in this time of need was honestly such a pleasant thing to think about, they were almost smiling again.

A feeling that only increased as Dumbledore took charge of the situation, flat refusing Hagrid's resignation and not allowing him to hide away in shame for something he had no control over. Alice wished she could hug her headmaster right now! She eyed Frank obviously, who was still fidgeting with his robes, but nodding along nonetheless. At least his faith in Dumbledore seemed to have tipped the scales in some regards, and she'd take the slow progress that was.

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Virago 08. The Bridge

Summary: Y/N was sent to the ground after spending five years in the Skybox for stealing medical supplies and murder. How will she deal with her new environment and learn to survive on earth? Will she crack under the pressure of becoming a leader of the 100 or will she embrace it. 

Post Date: 06.19.20

Word count: 3.8k

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Based off: 01x09 “Unity Day”

Masterlist

You wake up to find Octavia rushing to get out, “Why are you in such a hurry this morning?” You ask her.

“Ummmm… promise not to tell anyone?” She asks you.

You look at her with an expecting look, “Do I look like a snitch?” You ask back knowing that she was planning on going off with Lincoln.

“Thanks girl, I owe you one,” She leaves the tent. You get up and start to get ready and head out of the tent. You find a group of kids huddling around a small screen where Chancellor Jaha is speaking about Unity Day.

You pay no attention to the presentation and head straight to the Dropship where you find Finn and Clarke chatting, “Unity Day is a lie,” Finn states.

“That is something I can agree with,” You tell the two walking up.

“The Ark only came together after the 13th Station was blown out of the sky. Just not the version of history we like to tell each other at parties,” Finn explains. 

“I wonder if the Ark would’ve gotten together if the 13th Station wasn’t blown up,” You add.

“Well, the Unity Day story gives people hope, though. And peace came out of that violence.” Clarke defends Unity Day.

“Did there need to be violence at all?” Finn questions back. 

“I totally agree.” You add in. Clarke just looks down clearly thinking about what Finn had just said. She catches a glimpse of Raven looking up from the screen before walking off. 

The next thing you hear is Jasper screaming from the other side of camp, you look up to find him holding a giant canteen, “Monty strikes again! Call this batch unity juice! Who’s thirsty?” Jasper yells making his way to the crowd.

You make your way to the crowd as you thought, nothing sounded better than some alcohol. You pick up a cup along the way and hold it out so Jasper could pour some. You downed your whole cup faster than you thought you could and went back in for seconds.

After a few hours you find yourself bored and seeing as the camp is starting to get low on food, you decide to take a hunting party out. You gather a group of kids and grab some spears. Before you head out, you’re stopped by Bellamy.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks clearly concerned. 

“We’re going on a hunt. We’re getting low on food. And I need something to do. It’s not like I’m going alone,” You explain gesturing to the four kids behind you.

“I’m coming,” He responds.

“I can handle myself out there,” You start to walk away before Bellamy plucks the spear out of your hand. 

You roll your eyes before grabbing another spear, “Fine. But this is my hunting party,” You walk ahead of Bellamy and signal for the kids above to open the gate.

You lead the group a few hundred feet away from camp into the area where the boar tend to run. You tell the other kids to spread out in pairs, “See you needed me,” Bellamy states following you around the forest.

“I could've gone with any of the other pair of kids,” You state back.

“But, because you have me we can cover more ground,” He states back.

You sigh but before you could respond you hear rustling in the distance. You pull Bellamy down by the sleeve into the foliage and scan the area. You find a boar not too far ahead of you guys, “You go left. I’ll go right,” You whisper to Bellamy and then make your way to the right of the boar. 

You and Bellamy wait for the boar to get in a clearer spot in the forest and then signal to attack. Both you and Bellamy run towards the boar and throw your spears. Luckily both of you hit it, it starts to run off before you tackle it and stab it with your knife, killing it. Bellamy catches up to you and puts his hand out. You grab it and he pulls you with such force that you stumble into his chest. You back up quickly before you make the moment awkward, “Thanks,” You sigh. 

“Good kill. I guess you can handle yourself out here,” He chuckles.

“Guys! Let’s head back to camp.” You yell ignoring Bellamy’s comment. The rest of the kids meet up with you and Bellamy. And make your way back to camp with two boars. You have the kids drop the boars off at the meat station and tell them to prepare the meat. You take the spears from the kids and drop thim off for cleaning. 

You help some kids prepare the boar meat since they seemed like they had no idea what they were doing. You show them how to cut the meat and prepare it to be cooked. After you prepare a few pieces and make sure the kids know how to do it you find yourself in your tent. You decide to clean it up as you found yours and Octavia’s stuff all over the ground. Although the most you did with Octavia’s stuff was put it on her side. 

“Hey, you coming out to party?” You hear Bellamy’s voice ask.

“Do I have to make a speech or something?” You question him as you turn to see only his head popped in.

“No,” He chuckled. “But you should let go and have some fun,” He suggests.

“Fine… I’ll be out in a minute.” You respond before he backs out of the tent. After you take a few moments to look presentable. You leave your tent as you hear music and  find kids around the camp chatting and having a good time. You find Bellamy eating an apple. He offers you the other one in his hand, you take it and take a bite.

“Hey guys. The comms are still dead. They cut out during the pageant,” Clarke explains making her way over to you two.

“Best Unity Day ever.” Bellamy states as you chuckle in agreement and take another bite of the apple.

“Do you really think now is a good time to be having a party? I mean the grounder is out there--” Clarke questions Bellamy.

“Grounders. By now, he’s made it home. He’s probably putting together a lynch mob. Relax. I got security covered. Why don’t you go get a drink? You look like you could use one.” Bellamy reassures her.

“I could use more than one.” Clarke states.

“I could toast to that,” You chuckle.

“Then have more than one. Clarke, the Exodus ship carrying your mother comes down in two days. After that, the party’s over. Have some fun while you still can. You deserve it.” Bellamy says.

“That is also something I can toast to.” You inject once more.

“Yeah. Okay.” Clarke says convinced and walks off. “So do you...by the way. Both of you.” Clarke turns to face you and Bellamy.

“I’ll have my fun when the grounders come.” Bellamy responds as you smack his arm. He looks over at you with confusion as you roll your eyes.

“Well, I could definitely use some fun now. And I think you should too.” You say poking Bellamy’s chest. He chuckles before he takes a bite of his own apple.

After another hour or so you notice Finn sneaking out. Curious to what he’s up to, you follow him. Trying to stay a few feet behind him you notice Octavia with Lincoln, exactly what you were trying to stop from someone finding out. Finn steps on a branch alerting the two love birds to his presence. Octavia keeps Lincoln from hurting Finn and before anything else happens you make yourself known, just so you don’t cause anymore problems.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m the only other person out here.” You say walking out from the shadows. Lincoln and Octavia lead us back to the cave we first found them in.

“So what the hell are you doing here?” Octavia questions Finn.

“I could ask you the same thing, I could also ask how long you’ve known he speaks english… well both of you. But I won’t.” He responds as you all file into the cave. Finn picks up the horn next to him and inspects it.

“You blew this when your people were hunting us.” Finn says as Lincoln nods his head in agreement. “You saved our lives. I have to believe there's more like you.”

“I stabbed you.” Lincoln points out.

“And we tortured you. If the two of us can get along, then maybe there’s hope. Learn from history instead of repeating it, right?” Finn responds back.

“How’s that gonna happen?” You question.

“For starters...no more killing.” Finn explains.

“I don’t have the power to call a truce,” Lincoln states.

“Then bring me to someone who does.” Finn responds.

“Finn. I don’t know if this is such a good idea.” You inject and Octavia and Lincoln look upset.

“Hey, look. The rest of our people are coming down here. The first ship lands in two days.” Finn explains.

“It's true.” Octavia confirms and you nod your head.

“And because of the attacks...they’re sending mostly soldiers, the people that enforce our laws. The Ark is about survival at any cost and they’ll kill people who fall out of line. When those people get down here, if they feel threatened they will start a war... and I don’t want that. Neither do you and I think that’s why you blew that horn. Once the soldiers get here it will be too late and we’ll have no power to stop them. But if they see that we’re at peace...then maybe we have a chance to stay that way.” Finn continues to explain.

“I hate to say it, but Finn might have a point. It doesn’t hurt to try. “ You inject.

“Alright. You bring your leader, I’ll bring mine,”  Lincoln agrees after a few moments of silence.

“What...Bellamy? He’ll never go for this.” Octavia adds.

“No. Not your brother.” Lincoln says shifting his eyes to you.

“Clarke,” Finn says.

“You also have me. I can go with her,” You add.

Octavia stays with Lincoln as you and Finn go to grab Clarke. You wait on the side for Finn to make his way back with Clarke. 

“I set up a meeting with the grounders.” Finn explains as you walk up to the pair beginning to get impatient.

“A meeting? I don’t understand. With who? How?” Clarke looks around to make sure no one else has heard.

“We were just with the grounder that we had in the Dropship. His name is Lincoln,” Finn explained, taking a glance at you beside him.

“Wa--wait a second. He spoke to you two?” Clarke asks.

“It’s not important,” You add in.

“If we wanna live in peace--” Finn starts.

“Finn, we can’t live in peace with people who’ve done nothing but kill us.” Clarke goes off.

“Can you think of a better way to stop the bloodshed?” Finn questions.

“Yeah. With the guns that the guard bring down.” Clarke responds.

“That’ll start a war. Do you really want that?” You ask.

“Y/N is right. At this rate, that’s what’s coming. Look. I know it’s a long shot… but this is our world now and I think we can do better than the first time around. I trust him.” Finn agrees with you.

“I trust him too.” You add in.

“I don’t. But if we go...we have to bring back up.” Clarke adds.

“No way. We’re not bringing guns. Those weren’t the terms and if we’re gonna do this we gotta give it a fair shot.” Finn protests.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll-I’ll get my pack, and I’ll meet you guys at the gate.” Clarke agrees, yet you believe that she has other plans. You keep it to yourself as you’re not fully sure if Clarke would keep her word or not as you and Finn make your way over to the gate. You, Finn and Clarke make your way through the forest to the meeting point. By the time you make it there, it’s the next day. 

You guys make your way onto the bridge and you bring Octavia into a hug as soon as you see her, “I’m glad you’re ok.” You whisper in her ear.

“You too,” She whispers back returning your hug.

“So that’s how you set this up,” Clarke says, obviously talking about Octavia. “You helped him escape, didn’t you?” Clarke questions Octavia.

“I trust him, Clarke.” Octavia counters.

“There’s a lot of that going around.” Clarke says looking at you and Finn. You guys hear footsteps from across the bridge and see Lincoln making his way across. Octavia runs into his arms as he picks her up. You notice Clarke backing up and Finn grabs her hand to keep her with him.

The next thing you hear is many hooves approaching and see a three grounders approach on horseback. “Hey, we said no weapons.” Finn points out running towards us with Clarke in hand.

“I was told there wouldn’t be,” Lincoln states.

“It’s too late now,” Clarke adds. 

Finn tries to walk forward with Clarke but Lincoln stops him, “Her and Y/N only.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Clarke assures him before making her way forward with you. The female grounder in the middle dismounts her horse and makes her way towards us. 

Clarke seems uneasy, “Hey, we got this,” You whisper in her ear to calm her. You see her take a deep breath and you finally make it to the middle of the bridge.

“Your name is Clarke? And you are Y/N?” The woman asks.

“Yes,” You and Clarke respond in short succession.

“I’m Anya,” She introduces herself. Clarke puts her hand out for the grounder to shalke but pulls back after she realizes that she wouldn’t shake it.

“I think we got off to a rough start… but we want to find a way to live together in peace,” You start after seeing Clarke’s hesitation.

“I understand. You started a war that you don’t know how to end.” Anya states.

“What? No. We didn’t start anything. You attacked us for no reason.” Clarke defends.

“No reason? The missiles you launched burned a village to the ground.” Anya explains as Clarke and you just look at her confused.

“Wait the flares? No. Those were meant to signal our families. We never meant to--” You start.

“You’re invaders. Your ship landed in our territory.” Anya interrupts.

“We didn’t know anyone was here.” Clarke counters.

“We thought the ground was uninhabited,” You add in.

“You knew we were here when you sent an armed raiding party to capture one of us and torture him. These are all acts of war.” Anya explains.

“I see your point. That’s why we need to put an end to all of this.” Clarke responds.

“If we can make peace and come to an agreement. Then we can create and respect boundaries. We never meant for anyone to get hurt in the first place.” You add in.

“Lincoln said there are more of you coming down. Warriors.” Anya points out.

“The guard, yes. But also farmers, doctors, engineers. We can help eachother but not if we’re at war.” Clarke confirms.

“Can you promise that these new arrivals won’t attack us, that they’ll respect the terms we agree on?” Anya questions.

“We promise we will do everything we can to convince them to honor the terms we set.” You answer.

“Why would I agree to an alliance that your people can break the moment they get here?” Anya questions back.

“If you fire the first shot those people coming down won’t bother negotiating. Our technology...they will wipe you out.” Clarke answers. You look down and clench your jaw annoyed at what Clarke had just said. You think to yourself how they definitely won’t make an alliance now, knowing that information.

“They wouldn’t be the first to try.” Anya says coldly.

“Clarke! Y/N! Run! They’re gonna shoot! Run!” You hear a familiar voice scream behind you. As you turn around you see Jasper run out of the forest from below the bridge and start shooting his gun. You see Anya start to pull something from her sleeve, but before you could react, she’s shot.

“Clarke, Y/N! Get down” Finn says running towards you guys. You start to run off but before you could get far you feel the piercing of an arrow in the back of your  upper thigh. Sending you straight to the ground. Finn hurries towards you and helps you up. You all rush back towards your end of the bridge.

“Okay, run, don’t stop til you get behind your walls. Go! Take her!” Lincoln explains as he pushes Octavia towards you guys and breaks the arrow in your thigh off  like he did to the one in his chest. Octavia yells as she’s being pulled back by Clarke. You try to keep up with the group as Octavia and Clarke help you make your way.

You guys stop at the front of your gates to catch your breaths, “You got something to say?” Bellamy asks, noticing the look Finn was giving him.

“Yeah. I told you no guns!” Finn yells at Clarke.

“I told you we couldn’t trust the grounders. I was right.” Clarke responds back.

“You were right about jack shit! We could’ve actually come to an agreement. They didn’t shoot first. They’re the one who shouldn’t trust us!” You yell back in pain.

“Why didn’t you tell me what you were up to?” Raven asks Finn.

“I tried, but you were too busy making bullets for your gun.” Finn explains.

“You’re lucky she brought that! They came there to kill you, Finn.” Bellamy protested.

“You don’t know that. Jasper fired the first shot!” Finn protests back.

“You ruined everything. If you didn’t shoot, Y/N probably wouldn’t have an arrow in her leg,” Octavia says before helping you walk off. You tell her you just wanted to rest for a bit and that she can go off without you. 

“I saved you! You’re welcome,” Jasper yells as Octavia storms off and follows soon after.

“Well, if we weren’t at war already, we sure as hell are now.” You say breathing heavily.

“You didn’t have to trust the grounders. You just had to trust us.” Finn says to Clarke before walking off with Raven leaving you, Bellamy and Clarke.

“Like I said. Best Unity Day ever,” Bellamy says before you hear a loud explosion. You guys look up in the sky to see something falling.

“The Exodus ship?” You question.

“Your mom’s early.” Bellamy states. You guys notice how fast the ship is going and before you know it you see it crash into the earth with a large fire cloud in the distance. Clarke collapses to the ground knowing that her mom definitely didn’t survive that crash.

“We should umm, clean that up before it gets bad.” Clarke says trying to gather herself and  gesturing to the arrow in your thigh. 

“I can do it myself,” You say, stumbling, not wanting any help from any of the two.

“You can’t walk. Let me carry you.” Bellamy offers.

“I’m fine,” You respond sternly. Before you get too far you feel Bellamy’s arms behind your back and under your knees. He picks you up, you try to wiggle out but feel a sharp pain in your leg as you try to do you. Knowing that Bellamy was right, you let him carry you to the Dropship.

He sets you down and you make your way to the table, “You want me to pull the arrow out?” He offers.

“No. I got it.” You say as you pick some pliers up. You stand leaning against the table and turn your body ever so slightly so you can hold onto the table as you take a hold of the arrow with the pliers. You start to hiss in pain as you slowly pull the arrow out of your thigh. As soon as it’s out you feel an immediate relief. 

“I’ll grab you a rag and some water,” Bellamy says. You don’t respond as he walks out of the ship. As you wait for Bellamy to return you realize that you can’t clean off your wound with your pants on. So you decide to take them off. You slowly lower them as you feel the pain surge through your leg. You hear footsteps approach and notice it’s Bellamy with a water bowl and rag in hand.

“Earth to Bellamy Blake?” You say noticing him stop in his tracks.

“Ummm… here,” He says after a few moments of silence. He makes his way to the table and sets the bowl and rag down.

“Thanks,” You say silently, dabbing the rag in the water. You take it and press it against your wound, hissing at the pain. The next thing you do is take another part of the rag and pour some alcohol on it.

“Here, why don’t I,” Bellamy takes the rag from your hands. “Ready?” He asks before dabbing the alcohol section on your wound. You hiss more before pulling your leg away a little. He dabs it some more before grabbing a cloth to wrap around your upper thigh.

Before you could protest and tell him you could do it yourself, he turns you around and lifts you up to sit on the edge of the table, “ You know the grounders would have never--” He startsas he begins to wrap your thigh.

“I don’t want to hear it, Bellamy. Not tonight.” You cut him off, not even wanting to remotely hear about what went down. You two stay in silence as he wraps the cloth around your thigh. After he was done, he lifted you off the table. It took you a moment to realize how close you two were after he set you back on the ground. 

“Uhhh…” You look down and shift over to your pants on the ground. You bend down to grab them and start to put them on.

“Umm.. thanks. Look, I know you were just trying to look out for us today. But next time, could you put me in the loop?” You ask him looking up after buttoning your pants.

“Yeh, sorry. I thought it was better you did’t know, I guess.” he responds. You think to yourself why he thought it was better, but not wanting to fight, you didn’t carry the conversation on.

“Umm, goodnight Bellamy. Thanks for helping.” You say as you start to walk out of the ship.

“Night, Y/N” You hear him say quietly as you leave him standing alone.

You make your way over to your tent and find Octavia fast asleep already. Or at least thought so. You make your way over to your “bed” as quietly as possible. Unfortunately you failed, hoping you didn’t wake Octavia, if she was asleep.

A/N: Okay. So sorry if there are a lot of errors or things that make no sense, I wrote this in 5 hrs and I feel like there are parts that sound weird. So if needed ask for clarification. On another note, I really enjoyed writing this and I'm glad I can have Y/N step up as a leader. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Taglist: @im-a-writer-right​ | @marsbar-inspace32​ | @zestylemon99​ | @trashmouth-lizzy​ | @thebeautifulbookworm​

[writesowhatnext]

the apple doesn’t fall far // kylo ren

Summary:

Kylo Ren was a Scorpio; he liked long walks on the beach, deep, meaningful conversations and pain. Modern!Kylo fic where Kylo thinks he might’ve found his match in a girl who makes his cold heart beat

Request: I have another idea to send in if that’s okay! It’s with Kylo Ren and the reader being in a relationship and she decides to go get a tattoo of her favorite band’s logo and he goes with her. He was watching the artist as she was getting it done, and than he’d look back at her because he was impressed with her pain tolerance, as she was able to hold a normal conversation the whole time.

A/N: I enjoy modern!kylo tbh I think it’s cute af – bit OOC given the whole context thing but I hope good regardless :) I’m not completely sure about it tbh I don’t know where it was going or where it went but we will see

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: tattooing??? Needles? swearing

Kylo, truthfully, had no idea who Bantha Fodder were. He knew you liked them. He knew they were your favourite band. He knew what their logo looked like, given it was currently stencilled on your arm in purple ink. But to say he knew who they were would be a gross overstatement. You’d always joke he had no taste so he supposed he wouldn’t like them if he heard them, but they made you happy. He was happy if you were happy; a fact he had not yet fully got to grips with himself, with his prickly nature and all.

You hadn’t told him you were getting a tattoo – not that he expected you to, really. For all his flaws, Kylo was never one to encroach on your independence; you were never one to ask for permission. It worked. That morning, you’d phoned him asking if he wanted to come with you whilst you ran a few errands. Personally, he wouldn’t have considered a tattoo an errand, per se, but he was happy to be with you nonetheless. He was surprised, actually, at how calm you were about the whole situation. 

“So, ready to start?” the guy across from him said. You nodded, smiling at the sound of the tattoo machine whirring to life.

The tattoo artist was skinny and, as expected, covered with his own tattoos. He had a hole in his ear big enough to fit a ping-pong ball and bleached blond hair tied back with a hairband. Kylo liked the tattoo on his shoulder: a floating astronaut among a few planets. The whole situation, for Kylo, was completely unfamiliar. He’d never stepped foot in a tattoo parlour in his life but he wasn’t too alarmed, he had you after all. And you were talking to him.

“What?” he said, suddenly aware that he’d zoned out completely. You laughed.

“I said,” you teased, placing your free hand on his forearm. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I don’t mind.” He moved his hand to capture yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “Up to you.”

“Okay then, we shall go back to your place so I can annoy you more.” He smiled, lifting your hand up to his mouth.

“What torture.” He said softly; empty words. You smiled and began a conversation with the tattoo artist about something or other Kylo didn’t quite understand- or try to, for that matter.

He just watched your face, occasionally looking down at your arm to check if it was, in fact, still being tattooed. He thought tattoos were supposed to hurt, but looking at your face, no one had told you that. You were smiling, occasionally laughing even. He watched the way your eyes lit up as you spoke (probably about the band, knowing you) and the way your nose crinkled. Ask anyone that knew him, they’d tell you that Kylo Ren was grumpy. A man that always looks either bored or murderous, they would’ve been pretty spot on with that assessment. Not around you though, somehow. Somehow you made him happy. The first time his friends heard him crack a joke was in front of you; the first time he laughed was because of your witty response.

Somehow you’d managed to turn his dark emo soul into some kind of Jackson Pollock and he couldn’t help but want to protect you. When you visited him one night and he’d opened the door to see you, almost in tears and sodden from the rain, he wanted to make whoever hurt you pay. When he learnt that you were on the brink of a meltdown because you’d had a bad day and the rain was absolutely the last thing you’d needed, he’d offered to beat up the rain. You’d laughed, which he considered a win.

Seeing you sitting there with a needle in your arm, chatting and grinning, a strange amount of pride flooded through him. He knew pain: he’d been in many a bar fight, had broken twelve bones on eight different occasions and boxed religiously, often immerging from the gym with a black eye and bruised knuckles. So, to see you, his source of happiness condensed into a talkative and stubborn, human-sized package, so casual, yeah, he was proud. He also felt a bit foolish about how protective he was but he figured that came with the territory of caring about something for once.

You noticed him staring at your face as the conversation with your tattoo artist lulled. He looked almost impressed; you couldn’t help but frown.

“What is your face doing?” 

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

A smile lifted his cheek as his fingertips trailed to your palm and he interlaced your fingers together.

“I’ve seen many expressions on your face, Kylo Ren: resting-bitch-face, grumpy-pants, just-ate-a-lemon, probably-about-to-sneeze...” you trailed off, unable to contain your grin. “But never this situation.” You lifted one finger, raising his hand to point at his face. You bit your lip.

“You’re hilarious.” he deadpanned sarcastically. You could see the playful look in his eye, though and let out an indignant laugh.

“I am hilarious, actually, thank you.” He raised an eyebrow, earning him a poke in the chest. “You’ve still not shared why you look so…” 

You once again gestured to his face.

“I’m impressed.”

“Well, now, that’s understandable. I am impressive.” You winked. His look turned dry. “Tell me what I’m most impressing you with right now.”

He suppressed a smile at your antics, ignoring your question. “Doesn’t that hurt?” He asked, pointing at where your tattoo seemed to have appeared.

“Oh yeah, like a bitch.” 

His mouth twitched and he clenched his jaw, hiding his amusement. 

“But it’s over now.” The tattoo artist said, wiping the ink from the skin to reveal a perfect Bantha Fodder logo. Your smile grew infinitely. Kylo watched with barely concealed fondness as he listened to the tattoo artist tell you what to do now, how you nodded and smiled. He offered his hand out as you bounded over to him, ready to leave. You gladly accepted.

Walking around the block to Kylo’s apartment, you couldn’t help but enjoy the experience. Despite how grumpy he appeared; you knew Kylo was the biggest softy for you. When you walked down the street, he would roll his eyes whenever you wanted to hold his hand. He’d also complain incessantly whenever he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind and you’d decide to just walk like that, with a giant shadow waddling from side to side. You knew he loved it, though, and it was obvious to anyone that you loved having him there. Even as you pulled him along the street, the dragging of his feet and constant grumbling was pure performance. 

You stopped for a moment, allowing him to catch up with you. He pulled you to his chest, dropping your hand and wrapping his arms around your waist. You reached your arms up, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. With a half-smile, he leant down, placed a small kiss to the cling film wrapped around your arm and tilted his head to the side. You were acutely aware of the way his eyes flitted around your face.

“I love you.” He said softly, staring into your eyes; as if he was convinced you’d disappear if he looked anywhere else. You felt your heart melt a little at his admission, a smile growing on your lips.

“I know.”

[serararku]

Rime and Reason Pt 2

They had to make their way on foot from Falcon’s Nest. Before the last rays of sunlight gleamed on the snow dunes, before the giant ravenous polar bears rose from their caves to begin their night hunts, they ventured out into the bitter cold in single file; how anyone could live beyond the safety of Ishgard and settle down in this unforgiving frozen hellscape- or why- remained a mystery. 

Osric was first in line. As the tallest of the group and the only one who knew where he was going, it was only natural he led the party forward. The torch in his grasp was triple-wrapped with linen and triple-dipped in tar, a blazing orange beacon that remained their only source of light and warmth out here in the Coerthas Western Highlands. S’mira followed closely behind, blinded by the howling wind and snowfall and guided only by clinging to Osric’s belt. Then came Dawn and S’era, who both shuffled to push as much snow out of the way for the final member of the party; Conobharo would have been buried alive if it weren’t for his taller companions paving the way for him.

"This b-b-benighted bauble'd better be worth it!" The Lalafell groaned through chattering teeth as he hectically analyzed the rear front. He could handle wild animals, but the thought of a wyvern swooping down on the party for an easy snack had him on edge. "Any sign o' Bleakpoint, twin-spear?"

A scoff came from the front of the group - though given Conor’s size and location, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it. “There’s not much of a sign of anything, excluding snow. With this weather we probably won’t see anything until we’re there.” Osric tightened his cloak around his shoulders before turning briefly to make sure everyone was still there. “But we’re moving in the right direction, and if we keep this pace we’ll make it before dark.” Gaze scanning the seemingly endless expanse of white out in front of them, he scowled, his grip on the torch tightening. “And we need to get there before dark.”

"R-r-reason bein'?" He pried his eyes from the horizon to shoot a glare at the Dragoon; if S’era wasn’t busy stomping down fresh fallen snow so Conobharo wouldn’t vanish in the cold dying light, she would have bopped him on the head for asking such a silly question.

There was another quick glance cast over the Dragoon’s shoulder. “I can hear your teeth chattering from up here, Conor. Do you really want to be caught out here, in the middle of a snowstorm, with no shelter and no viable source of heat - excluding those traveling with you, overnight? Unless you want to be a Lalafellin popsicle, it’s best that we reach Bleakpoint before dark.”

The presence of conversation seemed to soothe the lad. "Hah. I was f-figgerin' 'is place after sundown'd be all 'at c-cold an' darkness, plus some nocturnal beasties what eat yetis an' shite voidsent. As ye were, t-t-torch-bearer." Bringing his overactive imagination to heel, he returned his eyes to the wasteland, one gauntleted hand ready at his greatsword's hilt.

Dawn, arms around S'mira looked back as she rebutted, “S-some sh-shelter is better than n-none! Even a b-battered building would be b-better than being out in the open like this!” 

S'mira silently obliged as she led Dawn on in the strain as the group trudged on until she finally said something, breaking herself from that quiet set of self mantras and self motivating to address Dawn, “Best to keep moving, if we stop we might not get back up and moving.” the Miqo’te chattered.

S'era lifted her straw hat and took in a deep breath; she almost suffered a brain freeze, but the rich aroma of salted meat sizzling in an oven was unmistakable. "Gods… do you smell that?! We must be close! We have to be!"

Hard-packed snow gave way to loose rocks and solid stone, with the sudden steep incline taking them out of the snow entirely; before they knew it they were back on the road like it had been under their feet this entire time, the freshly-fallen snow turning to steam when they neared the enchanted cobblestone pathway. With nowhere else to walk, they followed the crevasse with six feet of snow on either side, until they took a sharp turn between some withered trees and under naked branches to find themselves staring down the familiar- and welcome- sight of a village.

Bleakpoint was larger than any of them anticipated. Two dozen buildings were visible at first glance, with possibly twice that many further along the path that cut the village straight down the middle. Chimneys were billowing smoke from lit fireplaces, lanterns swung and shook in the frigid wind, and the aroma of cooking meat wafted along their noses, beckoning them closer to the tavern near the start of the village. Yet there was something off about Bleakpoint; the fires were lit, the lights were on, but… “Where is everyone?” S’era blurted out, squinting her eyes to see through the fogged windows. All five of them stood on the edge of the perimeter- in a relatively safe distance.

"May'ap they're all gathered in the pub for a town feast?" Conobharo found it difficult to focus on anything other than the aroma of food, yet the icy bite of the climate kept him lucid. "But… 'ow's a town like 'is get a reputation for bein' poxed by the damned? Summat ent addin' up 'ere. Fink we should 'ead in an' investigate?"

“I’d suggest approaching with caution. The village didn’t get its reputation by being hospitable.” Osric’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the village - loosening his cloak before handing it back towards Dawn. “You need this more than I do - and it’ll only get in the way if fighting breaks out. I suggest everyone stay close and keep an eye out - there’s...more to this town than may meet the eye.” The healer welcomed the additional warmth, clutching the edges of the cloak near her neck.

The Plainsfolk nodded with a grunt, retrieving his weapon from its rime-coated sheathe. Immediately S’era placed her hand on Conobharo’s shoulder to stop him. “Whoa-ho-ho-ho, buddy. Easy there… five foreigners walking into a village with their weapons drawn isn’t exactly a good look.” She gave everyone else a glance for confirmation. “Let’s be careful… but let’s not jump the gun, okay?”

Dawn arched a brow, “Look, it’s freezing outside so it makes sense no one is about, let’s not all get suspicious at everything…” she commented flatly. Everyone aside from her seemed to be a seasoned adventurer, perhaps she was wrong, or perhaps they had dealt with too many worst-case-scenarios. Regardless, in the moment, she felt that there was some level of overreaction without having assessed the situation further. “Maybe we should knock on some doors and ask around if we don’t see anyone else as we get to the center of the village. But… either way… we should probably find a place to stay at least...”

"Ugh...fine, fine, I'll keep me steel at me back… fer now. But keep yer 'eads on swivels. I ent hesitatin' if'n the locals try anythin' fecky." Conor's gaze fell upon the inn. "What say we pop in an' see who's cookin'?"

While the lot had been busy chatting and debating, little-ol'-S'mira had already wandered up to one of the doors and gave the cold wood three loud knocks, tucking her hands under her arms for warmth as she awaited a reply, perhaps some motion within. The tension was palpable and even S'mira found herself readying to draw chakram at a moments’ notice. Dawn considered perhaps it was this very intuition they all held that separated her from the rest of the group- they were wary and on guard; she just wanted to get out of the cold.

Creeeeaaaaaaaak….

The door slowly swung open with a loud whine, hanging off one hinge and just about ready to fall off. A burst of that succulent aroma and the warmth of a fireplace rushed out to caress their faces, but it was uncomfortably dark inside. S’mira and S’era naturally went in first, the Miqo’te deciding it was best to put their sharpened senses of sight and hearing to good use; slowly but surely they checked their corners and stepped over the threshold, finding themselves before an untouched banquet. As S’mira kept along the walls to keep herself from getting ambushed from behind in the dark, or from above on the rafters, S’era cast her mudra on her uchigatana and set the blade aflame. Both Miqo’te almost had a heart attack when they saw the twinkling eyes of the Elezen barkeep standing behind the counter and cleaning a glass like it was a slow Tuesday.

“Come in, come in!” He gave them a wide grin, setting the glass he was cleaning down and beckoning them closer. “Feast! You must be hungry after traveling so far? Have your fill! It’s on the house!”

Osric, Dawn, and Conobharo hurried in once they heard the stranger’s voice. They gawked at the giant polar bear gutted and roasted on the long table, surrounded by apples, melons, and other unrecognizable fruit. There were already plates set for a party of two dozen, and the rich scent of salted meat was almost too tempting to ignore.

"Sweet mother Tutuli, I ent seen a feast like 'is in years!" Conor caught his enthusiasm by the tail, remembering that he was still in an allegedly blighted town.

“You… made all this?” S’era asked, dipping the edge of her sword in a nearby oil lantern to illuminate the tavern better. “Are you expecting company?”

“Weary travelers like yourselves must be exhausted.” He continued, turning to grab five mugs to set on the counter. “And thirsty. Can I get you something to drink? Ale? Rum? Wine? Scotch?”

Dawn giddily bounced ahead of the others, her voice laced with hopeful optimism, “Oh! Do you have hot chocolate?”

“Of course! Hot chocolate, and ice cream, and coffee, and tea! Anything your heart desires!” He began to shuffle into the back of the tavern. “I’ll be right back with some!” He called out, vanishing into the darkness.

S’era eyed the banquet with suspicion. “How many taverns do you know that just… give food and drink away like this for free? Especially when they had no idea we were coming…”

"The right bleedin' odd kind. I advise ye lot against eatin' a scrap 'at bizarre bugger gives ye." Conor had watched the barkeep until he was no longer in view, then ambled over to the fireplace.

The healer tapped her cheek, “Isn’t this a blessing? We were cold, I’m sure some of us were hungry…” she could hear S'era’s stomach growling. “I mean… it was weird that it was so dark inside but maybe they didn’t want to burn extra oil or attract anything dangerous, especially since there were no customers inside there would be no reason to keep all the lamps lit, right?”

“Mmmn… I suppose that makes sense…” S’era slowly slid her sword back into her scabbard and warily approached the table. “... but he was just… standing there in the dark. He didn’t even say anything until we spotted him…” It smelled good, real good, and the thought of feasting on exotic bear was making her salivate. Gingerly she reached over with the carving knife and sliced herself off a piece, taking another sniff of her plate before glancing over her shoulder at the group. “We should ask him about the missing travelers to this place. He might know something.”

“I mean… did you want him to startle you in the darkness first? Oh! Yes. That’s a good idea.” 

S’era was still suspicious, but by the third deep growl of her stomach, she couldn’t resist the free meal any longer. She pulled out a chair and sat down, helping herself to the juicy bear flanks and all the fruit she could fit on her plate. She took another sniff of her meal before biting down, causing her ears to flatten along her head and a low purr rolled from her throat. “Godsh… sho good…!”

Conor stared daggers at the Miqo'te. "Godsdamned fool…" he muttered beneath his breath. He had half a mind to smack S'era one good, but elected to watch things play out, folding his arms.

Watching S’era was enough to make her stomach churn as S’mira witnessed the other Miqo’te woman chow down. She hadn’t forgotten the conversation on the way here. Conor speaking about the ‘some void-touched shire’, S’era and the others suggesting curses and it being haunted. Stilling at the back of the room S’mira seemed to observe where she could even against the small rumble in her stomach that begged for a nibble.

“Ah, you like it?” The barkeep returned with a long glass of chocolate milk. He scooped whip cream from a bucket beneath the counter and spiraled it out on top before setting it down next to Dawn. “Dig in, everyone! Enjoy! Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?”

“Wine pleash!” S’era joyfully raised her hand, her cheeks puffed out with food.

Osric kept his lance firmly in his grasp, along with the torch. “People have ventured out here only to disappear.” He watched the barkeep like a hawk. “Do you know anything about it?” The hot chocolate almost reached Dawn’s lips before she heard the Dragoon, pausing to listen at his somber tone.

“No one’s come by in a few weeks. Maybe they got lost out in the blizzards that have been going on and off all year.” He popped open a bottle and poured crimson wine into another tall glass. “Come, eat! Don’t you want to join your lovely companion? I know you must be hungry, eh? Don’t be shy- have your fill!”

He smiled across the room at the Lalafell, who glowered at him a moment before stating, "I ent got much of an appetite."

The Dragoon rubbed at his chin thoughtfully; it would be rather unlikely to find any corpses frozen in the snow with how much they had to dig through, but not a single person made it to the village? “Can I get you some wine as well, friend?”

“Aye.” His scowl never left his face, but the barkeep was clearly unarmed, so he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked- not by this man at least. He gave another glance in S’era’s direction, who was purring loudly as she stuffed her face. Keeping his gaze locked on her, he leaned his lance against the counter, reached out, and firmly took the offered cup. “My than-” His eyes drifted down to the crimson wine; it was murky and thick, more like watery ketchup than the wine he was expecting. “What kind of wine is this?”

“A-ah, an old vintage.” He gestured for Osric to drink it. “Won’t you try it? I assure you it’s the smoothest wine you will ever taste!” He raised the glass up to his lips while he stared at the barkeep, and held it there for a few seconds before extending his arm as an offering. 

“You first.”

“What? Me?” The barkeep pointed at himself. “No thank you, I… swore off the stuff myself. B-besides, it’s bad business to drink your own wares, don’t you agree?”

“You said this feast was on the house.” Osric gestured for him to take the glass again. “Isn’t that bad for business too? Go on, tell me how it tastes.”

“I-is everything alright Osric?” His grim countenance and tone concerned Dawn as she watched the tense interaction. He didn’t answer, instead the Dragoon stared at the man in a chilling silence. Even in the dim light from the lit lanterns he could see small beads of sweat glistening on the Elezen’s forehead. The Lalafell's hand drifted toward his weapon.

“Drink.” He repeated, pushing the cup into his hand.

A horrid realization came over the healer as her eyes widened, turning to look back at S’era. Slowly the Miqo’te stopped chewing, her eyes darting between the exchange before settling on Dawn.

Slowly the barkeep opened his mouth to speak, but his face grew paler each passing moment, and he was trembling in his boots. “Y-you look h-hungry… g-go on… eat the f-f-f-food…” Conor's fist clenched upon his hilt.

Without hesitation Osric snatched his lance from the countertop and stormed straight to Dawn; with a raised gauntlet he slapped the drink out of her hands and tossed her plate across the room away from her, before turning to S’era, his eyes flashing in the lantern’s light. “SPIT IT OUT! IT’S POISONED!” She gawked at Osric in a stunned stupor, her eyes growing wide with fear. He didn’t waste any more time- he quickly stepped around the table and yanked the glass of ‘wine’ from her hand before tossing its contents onto the floor. S’era spit out everything that was in her mouth, but Osric still grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved his finger into the back of her throat; everything she ate since waking up this morning came spewing out onto the table, splashing on the roasted bear and dripping down the tablecloth. 

“No…!” The barkeep let the cup slip from his hand as he slowly made his retreat into the back. “No no no…! You could have been taken painlessly in your sleep… now you will feel every tooth and talon…"

Dawn snapped out of her shock and stupor, reaching for some vials inside her pouch, she started talking to herself, symptoms and treatments for different ailments aloud to focus and calm her nerves. She finally clacked a vial into an injection device she kept on her person and without warning stabbed the generic antidote into S’era’s neck. “Twelve… I hope this works.” She uttered an incantation in an attempt to increase efficacy. She held onto the injector and S'era, “Beneficent wind, please bless this unworthy child with a sliver of your healing grace, Esuna!” The grind of a blade being loosed hummed from beside the fireplace. 

“After him!” Osric commanded, but by the time he looked back, the man had vanished. S’era slumped over on Dawn, coughing and gagging on spit and vomit as she desperately tried to catch her breath. “Where did he go?! We have to go after-!"

"AAAASHOOOL GOOORRRRAAAAAAUGGGH THUUUUUMMMM!"

The floorboards shook from a deep guttural roar below. Something huge in the basement stirred from the dark and began slamming against the floor beneath their feet. The party exchanged wary glances, but the following silence only lasted a moment.

The floor beneath the feast swelled and cracked, sending splintering wood and dust into the air as the table slid down toward S’era and Dawn to smash them between the back of the tavern and the banquet. The Miqo’te had just enough reaction time to sweep Dawn’s legs out from under her and flatten them against the floor, letting the table slide over them harmlessly. Then just as the bulge reached its peak, it collapsed into itself, causing a sinkhole to form in the center of the tavern. “Go! Go go go!” Osric shouted over the rolling growls coming from below. Conobharo cleaved through a sliding table and leapt out of the nearest window while Dawn carried S’era toward the window closest to them as well, allowing the Miqo’te to smash it open with her blade as they hobbled out into the dark. S’mira took a few calculated steps back, before dashing forward to launch herself clear over the sinkhole and into Osric’s outstretched embrace; the Dragoon wasn’t about to wait around and find out what was making that ungodly noise, and with a heavy kick to the old door, he ripped it out of its hinges and dove into the snow outside.

---

Collaborated with: @hadriel-ffxiv​ @osric-slater-ffxiv​ @smira-asah-xiv​ @conobharo-cobharo-xiv​

[goldenfawnwriting]

Birds of a Feather- Part 8 Hawks Fic

Summary: Finch goes forward with the surgery, hoping everything will go right. When it comes to a lengthy healing, will her relationships survive?

A/N: Woohoo, it’s starting to finally come together, I was like super close to deleting all of this lmao

Warnings: Angst of course, major surgery, the good stuff lmao

Finch laid down on the cushy hospital bed after changing into her hospital gown. To say she was nervous was an understatement. This surgery would change her whole life, hopefully for the better...

Asami took her hand as they inserted the IV, Finch wincing with the poke. She was the only one with her today, Hawks was busy, although she didn’t expect him to come. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend or anything absurd like that. 

The doctor came to give a brief summary of what their goal was today and Finch only nodded along. She already had been told this in countless appointments before this and honestly just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. She just wanted to fly already. She was so, so very excited and at the same time impatient, for the first time in her life.

Asami gave her a small wave and a promise to see her when she got out as they rolled her away, into a large operating room. As Finch glanced around she noticed almost everything was metal, aside from the shiny creme colored floor. 

“Alright hun, we’re gonna get you all done up with the anesthesia.”

She only nodded in response and a mask was placed over her mouth and nose before they had her turn on her stomach, laying the bed all the way flat.

“Alright you ready?”

The anesthesiologist asked. Finch gave a hum in response to confirm.

“Alright, you can count to 10 for me.”

“O-oh ok.. 1...2...3-”

“Goodnight.”

And she was out. 

^^^

It took 5 hours of work to rebreak the bone and reform it correctly, grinding down the calcium deposits around the joint that had developed from years and years from no use. It took a little more time since the bones of her wings were hollow. 

When she woke up she was still laying on her back, her wing stinted in place to ensure it wouldn’t move. She groaned as she stretched her neck, his vision still fuzzy from the anesthesia. She blinked and blinked, trying to clear her vision before she finally set eyes on Asami sitting in a chair at the side of the room. 

“Hey Birdie! It went perfectly!”

She spoke softly. Finch suddenly felt nauseous, leaning over the side of the bed where Asami promptly held up a bucket, letting her empty her already barren stomach. She wasn’t allowed to eat before the surgery. 

“The nurse will be here in a minute ok?”

She reassured her, wiping her mouth for her with a small tissue. She was so thankful to have such a good friend. That was when she noticed the flowers on her side table. It was a huge bouquet of blue hydrangeas, sprinkled with violets and baby’s breath. She knew instantly who they were from. 

“Oh ya-”

“Mr. Hawks..”

Finch croaked. Her throat was super sore from the ventilation tube. 

“Ya he stopped by but you were still asleep. He seemed pretty excited for you though. You should give him a call when you feel up to it, although I’m sure he’ll stop by again.”

She rambled, the nurse finally knocking on the door and letting herself in. 

“Hi there Kore! How are you feeling?”

“My t-throat is sore...”

“Of course, of course, I’ll get you some cold juice, would you prefer apple, orange, or cranberry?”

“Um, Apple is fine.”

She replied lowly. Her throat really was sore. 

^^^

It was two days later when Hawks stopped back in, bringing a whole other giant bouquets this time purple themed, with lavender and deep purple roses and of course, baby’s breath. It was even sprinkled lightly with tiny yellow buttercups. She wondered how much these cost for him to bring her but decided to push it out of her mind. 

She was nearly exploding with excitement. She just wanted to be out of the hospital and in the sky. Little did she know that was a long ways off still. She had to wait for the bones to heal before even starting physical therapy, and of course that would take forever. There was a naive part of her that was ignoring all of that at the moment. 

“Aw Hawks, you didn’t have to bring me more flowers!”

She chuckled as he set them down on the other side table. He smiled widely at her.

“Of course I did, you’re my best girl, chickadee.”

She blushed hard and pulled her self up to stand at the side of the bed, grabbing the pole with her IV bag and wincing at the stiffness in her legs. The nurses only took her to walk around once a day but she felt like she could really be home at this point. 

“It stretches as far as the other one now.”

She mumbled, showing off the wrapped and stinted wing, now as long as the other when she stretched the other. 

“That’s amazing Finch!”

“I just can’t wait till I’m healed and can start working on flying...”

And trailed off, looking over at her newly fixed wing. It was different being able to see it all stretched out. Her feathers were mangled from the surgery though. 

“And they said it’ll only take about 6 to 8 weeks to heal it, then we can get started on the physical therapy.”

He nodded enthusiastically and gently hugged her. 

“I’m so happy you did this, honestly, love bird, you’re gonna love flying, I just know it!”

She smiled widely in reply and he stayed for about another hour to just chat before he took off again. She was beginning to to hate the fluttering in her stomach when she saw him, the blush that creeped onto her cheeks when he laughed at her or gave her a coy smirk. She knew she was setting herself up for failure but she loved the feeling. She’d never been so exciting or adoring over anyone. 

It only made the next 7 weeks feel like an eternity.