#it's in the ribs!!! just below my heart!!!! it's big and happy and bright and VIVID

[citrinesparkles]

god i am so grateful for music and a good speaker.

[lalacliffthorne]

💜 starshine pt. V 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

summary: some long overdue introductions are made.

notes: god, I can't express how fucking happy the love you show for this makes me. I'm honestly pinching myself every time I read all your messages and comments, and I'm not even sure I'm actually processing them all because it's just so completely bonkers. anyway. I'm currently planning on how to proceed with this, and you can probably expect at least a few more chapters *winks and wiggles brows*. I realised we need a few more things before this feels complete. so, here's the next part. I will not be blamed for swooning or emotional damage or anything else.

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Exhaling softly, I buried my nose in my pillow, blinking and scrunching my brows. I could feel sunlight on my face and a soft breeze brushing over my skin that smelled like sweet blooming trees and cool mornings, intertwining with another scent that surrounded me, filling my lungs, familiar and warm, causing something to flutter against my ribs.

Slowly cracking open an eye, I squinted into the sunlight filtering through high glass doors. They were opened wide, allowing the morning air to filter through the big room, and as I blinked against the sleep in my eyes and my vision became clearer, my breath hitched a little at the sight of the mountain palace in the golden morning sun.

Hiding my big yawn in my pillow, I turned my head, craning my neck. But the bed behind me was empty.

Something skipped a little in my chest, and I slowly sat up, scrunching my brows against the light and blowing a strand of hair out of my face that had fallen from my braid. Rubbing my eyes, I slid off the mattress, and my gaze flickered towards the door leading into the hall, but then I caught a glimpse at something in the big mirror, and when I turned around, I saw the person out on the balcony.

My heart moved gently in my chest, and breathing out softly, I slowly started to make my way outside.

The sun was warm, just like the stone under my bare feet as I squinted into the light, my breath hitching a little when I caught a glimpse at Velaris down in the vale, the Sidra glittering. Then my gaze turned back towards the male sitting on the ground on the terrace, right in front of a few steps leading down to another, arms resting on his knees, eyes closed as his brows crunched a little against the bright sun. His dark hair was tousled from sleep and the soft breeze, the muscles in his back shifting when he laced his fingers together, and something warm spread through my chest.

Quietly padding closer, I let myself plop down next to him on the stones heated up to by the sun, so close that our shoulders and elbows were touching when I pulled up my bare legs and wrapped my arms around my knees. Drawing up my shoulders a little, I exhaled slowly, blinking into the sun as my gaze moved over the palace stretched over the side of the mountain, the balconies and terraces, huge windows open to let in the breeze, and the city far below. Then I turned my head.

Rhys' eyes were still closed, but the crease between his brows softened as I watched. The warmth of his skin was seeping through the thin cotton of my shirt, and his scent rose into my nose with every breath.

Feeling something gently thrum against my ribs, I carefully shifted a little closer, my shoulder pressing more into his biceps. Then I turned my head back ahead, breathing in the morning air and the smell of flowers as the light wind brushed through the strands fallen from my braid and the sun warmed my skin. My nose crinkled a little as I squinted into the light, something fluttering gently against my ribs.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys blink, brows drawing together as he opened his eyes, his gaze focusing on the city below. His iris looked lighter in the sun, almost like lavender.

A muscle in his jaw shifted, then he mumbled softly: “I don't know whether I deserve this.”

The flutter in my chest turned into a soft twinge, and I felt my brows furrow gently as I looked over at him.

“Deserve what?”

Rhys stared at the palace, the city in the vale.

“All of this. The people down there. I'm not sure I deserve them.” His voice was quiet and raw when he added softly: “Not after all I did.”

The twinge in my chest sharpened, and I swallowed a little.

“Rhys?”

His head turned like my soft call of his name ripped him out of dark thoughts, and I stared at him, feeling something tighten under my ribs when I whispered: “You can't save everyone.”

Rhys stilled, and I offered him a careful, crooked smile. “I know.” I raised one shoulder in a soft shrug. “I tried.”

The male stared at me, the muscles in his cheeks shifting as he swallowed and his eyes darted over my face. I could see the pain buried deep within, felt the emotions whirling under his skin that caused my chest to ache.

“It's the best we can do.” My brows furrowed gently, something churning softly under my ribs when I whispered softly: “Try.” My gaze flickered over his face. “And you did.”

Something rose in my chest, and I pressed my shoulder into his, staring at him. “All you did was to keep them safe. Keep your family safe, your home.” I swallowed softly and mumbled: “You gave everything to protect them.”

Rhys blinked, and something within him seemed to crack when he whispered hoarsely: “What if I gave so much, I ended up broken?”

I stared at him, feeling something tug and tighten in my chest. Then I shrugged just a little, smiling softly.

“Everyone is a little broken. Some maybe more than others, but – it's hard not to. In this world, how can we be anything but?”

Rhys' lips parted, his violet eyes shimmering in the sunlight as they found mine.

“Maybe we're broken.” I felt my brows crunch softly. “But that's not what matters.” I returned his gaze, steady, calm, feeling my heart thrum against my ribs.

“What matters is what we do with the pieces. Whether we put ourselves back together or push the broken pieces away and stay broken.” I smiled, soft and crooked. “I know that mending yourself back together is scary. Because – it probably won't end up looking like before. Some pieces are missing, others are broken beyond repair.” My eyes flickered over the male in front of me, his brows crunched up like he was fighting to keep himself together, iris shimmering as his gaze darted over my face.

“But what you build from the rest is still complete.” I felt my throat tighten a little and smiled softly when I whispered: “And it can still be beautiful.”

The muscles in Rhys' jaw shifted as he swallowed harshly, his eyes a little watery as they searched mine, emotion raging deep within them.

Pressing my shoulder into his, I watched him steadily.

“You're allowed to grieve what you've lost along the way.” I suppressed the urge to swallow again, staring at him firmly as something tightened harshly in my chest. “Just never think that because you've been broken - you can't be whole again.”

Rhys' nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes tightly. My heart tilted, and quickly, before I could stop myself, I stretched.

A light shudder seemed to travel through Rhys' body when I pressed my forehead against his.

“You gave everything for them,”, I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “Nothing about that makes you less of a male.” Something skipped and tumbled in my chest, and I smiled crookedly and mumbled softly: “If anything, it makes you even more worthy of their love.”

This time, the tremble that went through Rhys' limbs was stronger. His breath hitting my skin quivered just a little, then he dropped his head forward to gently press back. His nose brushed against mine, and suddenly, my whole body tightened in a soft, sharp inhale.

My breath hitched and stilled, and Rhys tilted his head a little to repeat the soft nudge. I could feel his fingers brushing over my knuckles as the side of his thigh pressed against mine, radiating warmth through the soft material of his pants while his hair tickled my forehead and his breath danced over my skin as he slowly, gently traced his nose over mine.

Swallowing, I pulled my head back a little, feeling my heart race in my chest and something tightening and pulsing under my ribs. Then I opened my eyes, and my breath stumbled.

Rhys' iris twinkled like galaxies, hues of silver and lavender swirling in deep violet, warm and bright as his gaze pierced into mine. The breeze brushed through his tousled dark hair, blowing wisps of hair that had fallen from my braid into my face, and Rhys raised his hand, carefully brushing them away. His thumb followed the line of my cheekbone, sending tingling shivers through my body, and Rhys' throat worked like he was trying not to swallow as his eyes dragged over my face.

The rise and swell in my chest grew unbearable, and I held my breath and blinked, pulling back and smiling softly and crookedly, even though my heart was pounding against my ribs.

I prayed Rhys didn't feel it, couldn't hear the strange flutter in my breath when I turned my eyes back ahead, over the palace dipped in golden light as the sun slowly crept higher up in the sky.

I could feel Rhys' gaze on my face for another second, steady, piercing and calm. Then he turned his head back ahead. His warm shoulder pressed into mine, and I felt him exhale slowly, his skin glowing in the sun as he closed his eyes again, brows scrunching a little.

Without being able to stop myself, I let my gaze flicker towards him and over his profile; his straight nose, high cheekbones, the strand of ink black hair curved over his forehead, the rest messy and tousled -

One corner of Rhys' lips turned upwards until the ghost of a crease formed in his cheek.

“Seeing something you like?”

My heart tipped over at the sound of his deep, rich voice, and trying to ignore the small hitch in my breath, I huffed and glared at him. Rhys' smile just widened.

“You know, I'm sure none of the others would complain if you didn't, but are you going to put on pants before we go down into the city?” His eyes were still closed, lips curved upwards, but his voice sounded a little hoarse when he mumbled softly: “Or are you planning on torturing me a little more?”

My breath hitched as my gaze darted towards him, my lips parting, and Rhys opened his eyes, his iris twinkling brightly as he squinted a little against the sun, looking down at me. The breeze ruffled his hair, and his muscles moved under his sunkissed skin as he shifted a little on the spot, his bare shoulder pressing into mine. He looked dark and warm and – beautiful.

Heartwrenchingly, achingly, breathtakingly beautiful. All of him, his eyes and his smile and the curve of his jaw, the way his muscles worked his under lean sides and powerful shoulders - and everything beneath. His heart, his doubts, his dreams. And even though I had seen him since that first day, had seen all of it and more -

My heart shuddered as I felt the rise and fall under my ribs, the tingles running over my spine and how my breath hitched with every soft inhale. Felt the harsh thrum of my heart, and suddenly, something tipped over in my chest as my heart shuddered again, and my lips parted.

Rhys' brows scrunched lightly. “Starshine?”

“Hm?” My voice sounded soft, breathy as I stared at him, something fluttering wildly against my ribs.

“Are you alright?” One corner of Rhys' lips quirked, his gaze flickering over my face looking torn between amusement and concern, and I blinked and nodded quickly, turning my gaze back ahead as my heart thumped in my chest.

Something rushed through my body as I swallowed gently and felt the flutter under my ribs become more violent.

☆

Making my way through the halls of The House of Wind, I tied the sleeves of my billowing tunic that I had tucked into my leather pants which fit snugly around my legs.

I had figured they were a lot more practical for another flight than a dress.

My heart was pounding steadily against my ribs as I checked if my braid was tied off properly and frowned softly when I realized that there were little wildflowers stuck within. How had they ended up in th-

The doors opened towards a terrace, and when I raised my head, my breath hitched.

Rhys was standing in front of the carved stone balustrade, wings folded comfortably against his back, so big they almost touched the ground. He was squinting into the sunlight, looking completely relaxed, the breeze brushing through his hair.

Like he'd sensed me, he turned his head, and my breath hitched a little when his eyes met mine, deep and vibrant and slowly beginning to twinkle.

Something skipped and tumbled in my chest, and not yet ready to confront the strange sensation of a realisation that had bloomed just a little earlier, I pushed it away and jumped down the few steps, crunching my nose as I smiled sheepishly.

“This alright?”

Rhys' lips curved. “Is what alright?”

I shrugged, turning in a circle and waving a hand over my body exaggeratedly, cracking a grin. “The clothes. You know, for – whatever you have planned. Meeting your friends.” My heart skipped a little nervously as I squinted up at him, coming to a halt in front of him.

Slowly, a crease formed in Rhys' cheek, becoming deeper and deeper the more his smile grew. His eyes were sparkling when he stared down at me, his deep voice vibrating over my skin when he mumbled: “You could turn up in a duvet cover and be beautiful.”

I somehow kept myself from holding my breath even as my heart suddenly toppled, and instead managed to deadpan.

“Alright, so what I'm getting from that statement is that this isn't the right thing to wear –“

Rhys laughed, his eyes crinkling with his wide smile when he stepped forward and grinned down at me.

“You know that is not what I meant.” His iris was bright as his gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, his voice softer and steady when he said quietly: “Don't worry. You look beautiful. You always do.”

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow as my throat suddenly tightened, I stared up at him.

"And they'll love you." Rhys' violet eyes pierced mine, something rough in his voice when he mumbled: "They'd be idiots not to."

My heart dipped and swerved, and I inhaled softly and sharply before nodding lightly, feeling my lips quirk in a small, cheeky smile.

“Are you sure we can't just winnow or –“

Rolling his eyes with a grin, Rhys leaned down, and my breath got stuck in my throat with a soft sound when his arm slid around my back.

“Hold on,”, he mumbled, his breath brushing over the side of my neck, and I quickly wrapped my arm over his shoulder.

His hand slipped under my knees, then Rhys lifted me into his arms as he straightened again.

My heart skipped high into my throat when he hoisted me up a little, adjusting his grip until my body was curled into his chest. His scent filled my lungs as he squeezed me gently and looked at me, his eyes sparkling.

“Ready?”

I felt a brush of air when his wings opened, stretching wide, and quickly, I slid my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in the crook of his neck. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I nodded, and with one mighty beat, Rhys launched into the sky.

I shrieked softly, feeling Rhys' body vibrate with his low chuckle, then we dropped into a steep dive, and I clung to his shoulders, squealing loudly.

~

I didn't know how long we were in the air. Rhys'´ wings were stretched wide and steady, carrying us lower and lower, their thin membranes in parts almost see through against the sunlight. Sometimes, he dropped a little just to hear me squeak, laughter vibrating through his chest every time he rightened us smoothly and turned into an elegant curve. I peaked over his shoulder once, only to feel my stomach turn over at the sight of the city so far below, I quickly squeezed my eyes shut again and buried my face back in the crook his neck.

Finally, Rhys caught himself out of a gentle descent, his wings beating a few times until he landed on his feet smoothly.

Slowly loosening my tight grip, I cracked open an eye, feeling a relieved breath leave me when I saw the cobblestone only a few feet beneath me.

Lifting my head, I felt my heart rise softly as I looked up the façade of the townhouse made from sandstone we'd landed in front. The sun just caught the stained glass window over the door, the smell of the rose bushes planted in the small front yard soft and sweet. The roof with a huge round window in the attic glittered in the sunlight, and the windows on the second and third floor were opened wide to let in the gentle breeze.

Rhys leaned down, letting me slide out of his arms as he placed me back on my feet. I raised my head when he straightened, and my heart lurched and tipped over when I realised we were standing chest to chest.

Rhys stilled a bit, his head dipped to look down at me, dark hair dishevelled from the flight and still looking perfectly tousled. Something closed around my throat when his eyes flickered over my face, warm and twinkling a little, and I couldn't keep myself from swallowing.

Behind me, the front door was opened, followed by a deep rumbunctious laugh, and when I quickly looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high into my throat as the source of the sound stepped into the sunlight, squinting and grinning boisterously.

The Lord of Bloodshed looked exactly like I had imagined based on the stories Rhys had told me about him. Tall; so tall he almost had to dip his head to the side to walk through the high door, wide shoulders and chest, body all corded muscle. Half of his dark hair was gathered in a bun at the back of his head, a few strands falling into his face as he walked down the steps, huge Illyrian wings tucked against his back as his grin made his eyes crinkle and caused the scar on the side of his face to shift.

He made it a few feet before noticing Rhys and me. He slowed before stilling on the spot, his grin disappearing a little as warm hazel eyes met mine.

Carefully, I smiled, soft and crooked. Behind me, I felt Rhys shift, straightening.

Another figure appeared from the hall that was dipped in shadow, though the darkness seemed to thicken a little as it shifted away from the tall male stepping into the sunshine. It didn't leave him fully, ghosting around his shoulders and the wings folded smoothly against his back, like soft whisps of darkness that followed the shadowsinger as he moved down the steps, amber eyes piercing mine.

Where the General's face was rough and more rugged, the face of the Spymaster was all sharp lines and beauty dark like death, but still, there was something gentle buried underneath as his gaze flickered over me.

“Cauldron's sake, can't you two wait?!”

The bright, warm voice drew my eyes away from the shadowsinger's, and a female appeared in the door, her scowl melting into softly widening eyes.

“Oh,”, she breathed, and I felt my lips rise into a smile without being able to help it.

The Morrigan, as Rhys sometimes called her like it was a title more than just a name, looked like sunshine. Her flowing hair really was the color of honey, her eyes a gentle warm brown, soft freckles on her nose and something like awe in her gaze.

Her lips, painted deep red, parted, but before she could say something, the Lord of Bloodshed moved. There was something strange in his eyes, something in his drawn brows as he walked towards me with big strides, and I could feel Rhys tense behind me. But before he could even open his mouth, the huge Illyrian warrior reached me.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the Lord of Bloodshed lifted me off my feet in a warm, crushing hug.

My breath hitched, and my lips parted softly when a wave of emotions crashed over me. Thankfulness and relief and pain soothed, mixed with warm vibrating affection, so strong and jumbled, a little tightness built in my throat.

He felt different than Rhys; rougher, louder and warm and full of unbridled life, and –

Something surged in my chest, and I blinked hastily against the way my eyes welled. Because the infamous Lord of Bloodshed felt kind. Kind and gentle, and good.

“Hi?”, I whispered a little hesitantly, and a soft chuckle rumbled through the huge Illyrian.

“Hi.” I heard the grin in his deep voice, warm and rumbling as he squeezed me tightly before shaking me a little and causing a soft giggle to break from my throat. Then he slowly placed me back on the ground, holding me tightly for another second before straightening up, and when I raised my head, he was beginning to smile down at me, wide and unrestrained.

Movement at the corner of my eye made me tip down my head, and something shifted softly in my chest when Morrigan sent me a smile. It was bright and beaming, but her eyes were a little watery, and she moved without hesitation, wrapping me up in a hug so tight, I held my breath.

“Hello,”, she mumbled, her warm voice a little wobbly, and my heart tightened gently as I carefully wrapped my arms around her and squeezed back. She too felt gentle and good, but vibrant, like an orchestra rising into a striking finale.

Mor kept me in a ribcrushing hug for another second before pulling back, sniffling a little as she beamed at me, and I slowly grinned back.

“So that's her.”

The voice, so deep and low, sent a light tingle down my spine, and when my gaze moved, it met the shadowsinger's, his golden eyes piercing mine.

The Lord of Bloodshed crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes sparkling as he sent his High Lord a shit-eating grin. “Now I get why you kept her from us.”

Rhys scowled as the tall Illyrian sent me a wink, but a few feet away, the lips of the shadowsinger curved at the corners.

“Honestly.” Mor rolled her eyes, but she looked like she was suppressing a smile. I threw Rhys a look.

You know, he's right, I get it too. I sent him a wide, cheeky grin and raised my brows. Why you thought they'd steal me away? I mean; I'd let them -

Something shifted in Rhys' eyes; a growl rumbled from his chest as he moved forward, his chest pressing into my back, and my heart skipped and my breath hitched.

Mor furrowed her brows, but her lips twitched. “Are you alright?”

Rhys huffed as he stared down at me, but it almost looked like he was pouting, so much so, something tipped over in my chest, and I started to beam up at him, wide and cheeky.

Something in Rhys' glare shifted, became soft and bright. Then he blinked, and my heart tumbled gently against my ribs when he tore his eyes away from mine and grumbled under his breath: “I just remembered why I have been putting this off for so long.”

Both Illyrians rolled their eyes in unison, the General flipping him off easily while the Spymaster's lips twitched, and Rhys returned the foul gesture before looking down at me, his eyes twinkling even though he gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh as he raised his brows.

“Starshine, meet my irritating and nosy family. These are Mor, Cassian and Azriel.”

Mor beamed at me, Azriel dipped his chin lightly, and Cassian bowed his head with a cheeky wink. I slowly grinned back, feeling something hop against my ribs. Then I blinked and blurted: “It's really good to finally meet you, but I'm starving -”

Cassian snorted and started to laugh, his head tipping back as his shoulders shook, and Azriel pushed past him, his lips curving when he blinked into the sun, mumbling: “Looks to me like she's going to fit in just fine.”

☆

Blinking into the sun, I dropped my head when something cool brushed over my shoulder, and Azriel sat down next to me and handed me something.

My heart skipped and my lips parted in surprise at the sight of the waffle wrapped in a paper napkin, sprinkled with powered sugar. There was a café in the alley to our right that sold them, and even though earlier at breakfast, Mor had ordered half the menu, the smell whafting from it when we'd passed it a little while ago had made me look at the window wistfully.

“Thank you.” I looked up at the shadowsinger, still a little wide-eyed and surprised, and there was a soft chuckle from next to me that made my heart skip.

“Bribery.”

“Hey, shut up.” I felt my lips curve into a bright smile without being able to help it, quickly kicking Rhys' shin. He was sitting on my other side and squinted against the sun, cheek creasing. He looked completely relaxed, his skin glowing in the warm light as he lounged on the bench, his arm draped over the backrest behind me. “You're just jealous that he didn't bring you one.”

“Yes, as his High Lord, that does make me wonder.” Rhys narrowed his eyes in mock thought, and Azriel huffed, his lips quirking as he blinked into the sun.

Breathing in the sweet smell of flowers, I plucked off a corner of the still warm waffle, the sweet dough melting on my tongue as I blinked into the sunlight. Something warm was pulsing in my chest as I let my gaze wander over the little square surrounded by big, sandstone buildings.

Mor was crouched a bit away on the cobblestone, talking to a female painting the ground with a beautiful sunset sky. Cassian was over at the fountain that wasn't carrying any water; instead, flowers were growing within, spilling over the edges, violets and lavenders and pinks mixing together with small white blossoms. He was playing with some children, who had seen the mighty warrior and had shied away until he had grinned widely at them. Now, they were trying to wrestle him down, his dramatic groans echoing through the square.

Next to me, Azriel leaned back, his wings folded comfortably behind him as his golden eyes moved over the square, watchful but relaxed. The blooming trees whispered in the soft breeze, petals chasing over the cobblestone, and I exhaled softly and felt something rise in my chest, fluttering and violent.

Gentle claws scraped over my mind's walls, and my heart skipped softly.

“You okay?”

Rhys' voice rumbled through my head, warm and relaxed, and my breath hitched as my eyes flickered over his friends, his family that had taken so easily to me, it felt like I had been with them since the beginning.

Blinking, I tipped my head back a little, looking up into the clear blue sky where even in daylight, the pale shape of the moon was visible, and that swelling feeling under my ribs grew.

It's beautiful, I whispered in my mind, turning my head, and my eyes met violet ones, bright and twinkling as they flickered over my face.

A whaft of warm, flowery perfume filled my nose, then Mor squeezed into between me and Azriel, sighing happily as she squinted into the sun. “Should we save him?”

I looked over towards where Cassian was buried under at least six little Fae children that were yelling and climbing over him.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel's lips quirk as he reclined lazily. “He looks like he's got it handled.”

Cassian dramatically went limp. Then he stirred, sending children tumbling over the cobblestone laughing as he straightened up and grinned at them, and I giggled.

Getting to his feet, Cassian patted the head of one of the children and sent them a wink before beginning to walk back towards us, the children going back to chasing each other over the square.

“Is your back alright, brother?” Rhys watched him get closer, creases in his cheeks deepening. “I could swear I heard it crack when you got up.”

“I heard it.” Azriel squinted into the sun.

Mor sighed dramatically. “Tragic. The mighty hero is getting old.”

“I could take a look at it.” I blinked up at Cassian innocently. From the corner of my eye, I saw the others look towards me as I shrugged, pulling off another piece of waffle. “I deal with injuries of the elderly all the time.”

Rhys started laughing, his head dipping back, and my heart swerved at the deep, rich sound. On my other side, Mor was laughing as well, bright and causing her body to vibrate as the Spymaster grinned, and Cassian scowled, but his eyes were twinkling mischievously when he narrowed them and pointed at me. “Careful, little one.”

"You know she could take you, right?" Rhys was smirking.

I only squinted up at Cassian, feeling my lips curve cheekily.

There was a light pull on my sleeve, and when I looked down in surprise, my heart skipped gently.

A small Fae girl, just a few years old, was standing in front of me, looking up at me with huge eyes.

I could feel my lips rise, and sliding my waffle into Rhys' hand, I slipped off the bench, crouching down until I was on her level before sending her a slow, wide smile.

“Hello.”

The girl shuffled a little, her eyes sheepish as they flickered over me and the flowers still stuck in my hair. Then she held out her hand.

Something rose softly underneath my ribs when I slowly took the small paper blossom from her tiny fingers. Carefully, I placed it in my palm, staring at it. Then I looked up at her through my lashes and sent her a slow, cheeky smile.

“Want to see something?”

The girl nodded quickly, and feeling my smile brighten, I looked down again, closing my eyes for a moment. Then I dipped my head and gently, very gently, blew air over the blossom.

Golden sparks twinkled, making the little girl's eyes grow big, and slowly, before our eyes, the paper flower turned into a real one, its purple petals slowly opening.

The girl's eyes were huge when she looked up at me, beginning to beam, and grinning back widely, I leaned forward, carefully tucking the flower behind her small, pointed ear. Then I straightened up again and sent her a light wink, and with a quiet giggle, the girl quickly turned around, darting back over the square.

Staring after her with a wide smile, I slowly pushed myself up and back onto the bench. Then I raised my head, and my breath hitched a little when I found four pairs of eyes on me.

Mor's lips were parted softly, that strange vibrant awe back in her gaze while Cassian's lips were curving. Azriel's head was dipped to the side a little, a barely there twinkle in his eyes – and Rhys' iris looked brighter than the stars as he stared at me.

“What?”, I mumbled sheepishly, feeling a little heat bloom on my cheeks. Then I caught sight of the huge piece missing out of my waffle and immediately widened my eyes, glaring at Rhys. “Hey!”

☆

“I told you they'd love you.”

My heart skipped softly, and when I looked over my shoulder, Rhys leaned into the open doors, squinting into the low sun as one corner of his lips creased.

Something fluttered softly against my ribs.

“Well, I am very loveable.” I sent him a bright, cheeky grin, and Rhys huffed, the crease in his cheek deepening as he pushed off the doorframe.

Watching him come towards me, I blinked and turned back around, breathing out as I held my face into the warm, sinking sun.

We were back at the house that I still didn't quite believed was supposed to be mine, the window doors open to let in the soft evening breeze as I sat on the stone steps leading from the terrace down into the garden. The light of the sinking sun was dipping everything in a golden shimmer, faeries whizzing through the flowers and tittering happily.

Something brushed against my shoulder, then Rhys took a seat next to me, propping his arms onto his knees and squinting into the light.

“Are you sure you want to sleep here?”

I huffed softly. “I am sure I'm not keen on more flying.”

Rhys' lips curved, his violet eyes piercing the side of my face. “You're insulting my flying?”

“I'm insulting your need for aerial maneuvers.”

Rhys slowly began to grin. “I'm taking that personal.”

“Good. It's awful.” I barely held myself back from breaking into a wide smile.

Rhys' eyes crinkled as he stared at me. Then he blinked and looked over his shoulder. “The main bedroom is on the third floor. Everything's there, so –“

Something closed around my throat, and I quickly whispered: “Thank you.”

Rhys looked at me, and I stared back, trying to swallow against the tightness in my chest as suddenly, the words stumbled from my lips.

“Thank you for trusting me. With this, this city. Your family. And –“, I blinked, “for buying me a house, you - complete – maniac, who just does that?!” I exhaled a little tremblingly as something skipped and fluttered in my chest and I sniffled a bit, my eyes suddenly burning a bit.

Rhys stared at me, the muscles in his cheek working as his lips parted.

“Thank you,”, I whispered a little wobbly, and I could feel Rhys swallow when for a moment, he looked like a dozen answers were running through his head, things he wanted to say stumbling over each other.

But when he opened his lips, nothing came out but one word, quiet, simple and a little hoarse.

“Always.”

A soft shuddering breath left me as my shoulders sunk, and Rhys' violet eyes dragged over my face. Then he blinked, and one corner of his lips curved gently.

“Sleep tight, starshine.”

I swallowed, and Rhys got to his feet, sending me a light wink that made my heart swerve as he started walking down the steps into the garden. I could see the way his shoulders shifted, the way he stretched his neck a little, and suddenly, something dropped into my stomach.

“Wait!”

I darted to my feet, and Rhys stilled. Then he looked over his shoulder, and before I could stop myself, I blurted: “Stay.”

Rhys' lips parted, and hastily, I squeezed my hands into fists.

“I just –“ My eyes darted over his face; my heart skipped once, high, and with a soft breath, I felt my shoulders sag.

“I hate the thought of you up there alone,”, I mumbled.

Rhys blinked. Then the tension bled from his muscles, and his lips curved, just a little.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I breathed out, my eyes darting over his face, illuminated by the sinking sun, his dark hair tousled, his iris a soft violet, and somehow, I managed to ignore the rising, swelling feeling in my chest.

The curve to Rhys' lips deepend, and he slowly turned a little, his eyes beginning to twinkle in the light as he raised a brow. “I can take the couch.”

My heart fluttered high, and I tried to not let it show, just grinning crookedly.

“What, this huge house has no guest room?”

“I thought I'd leave the details of which room becomes what to you.” The twinkle in Rhys' eyes seemed to grow as he slowly started to saunter back towards me, slipping his hands into his pockets as he shrugged casually.

“Convenient.” I felt my lips curve as the flutter in my chest grew sky high, my breath catching when I caught sight of the crease in Rhys' cheek.

“I'll take the couch.”

“No, you won't.” My voice was steady, maybe even amused, even though my heart was beating out my chest the closer Rhys got as I suddenly wondered what I was doing.

Rhys' eyes crinkled a little as he moved up the steps towards me. “What if I snore after all?”

“Then I´ll kick you.” I tried to keep my breathing even when he stopped on the step right beneath mine, almost on eye level for once, my heart missing a beat when I swore I could feel his chest brush against mine.

The crease in Rhys' cheek deepend. “So violent.”

I must've managed to deadpan, because he chuckled, a grin slowly spreading over his face. Then he blinked, and it dimmed, becoming soft when he mumbled, his deep voice a gentle caress over my spine: “Are you sure?”

My heart jumped against my ribs, and I probably should have listened to the warning of its irregular rhythm or the way my breath couldn't seem to stay steady.

But I just smiled back, soft and cheeky and crooked. “Yes. I'm sure.”

Rhys' gaze flickered over my face, and something shifted in his iris, the twinkle a little deeper as he nodded gently. "Alright."

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020 @lizziesfirstwife @brandywineeeee @t0uch-starved-h0e @sharknutz @valencia-rou @twsssmlmaa @waytoomanyteenagefeels @luvmoo @starrybeesandlibraries @corvusmorte @marmorjorts @bubnix @wallacewillow0773638 @ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger

[intheorangebedroom]

Road Trippin’

Summary: you take a road trip along the west coast with your boyfriend.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x French fem!Reader.

Can be read as a stand-alone. This said, I respect you all far too much to try and make you believe this isn’t my two PTMY filthy puppies. Let’s say, for the sake of suspense, that it might be them OR it might be an AU in which they get a happy ending…

ETA (July 22nd 2023): Now that PTMY is complete, I can finally move that baby up to a brand new Drabbles section of its masterlist, because it's always been Frankie & Gabrielle, Gabrielle & Frankie 🧡

Rating: Explicit 🔞 Fluff and filth with a dash of angst because hey, it’s me 😏

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: @wildemaven here it is! Again, thank you so much for sharing your incredible talent with us, for this wonderful idea, and for showing me a different way 🧡 I sincerely hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As in 99% of what I write, the story is titled after a song, another source of inspiration for me, here RHCP’s Road Trippin’.

Warning: contains some very self-indulging reference to a certain line of dialogue from TF…

Drabble: Road Trippin’

��Frankie, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out, your words immediately engulfed by the deafening noise of the waves crashing on the rocks below.

He nudges your shoulder, letting you know he heard you, and you chase the heat of his body, leaning against his arm and resting your head against the firm slope of his shoulder. The soft, cottony fabric of his hoodie caresses your cheek when you brush against it. You look up at him and it’s another vision that has your breath hitching in your chest. Locks of luscious brown curls perk out from under the hood of his sweater, swept soft and tempting by the ocean breeze over the landscape of his sharp profile .

Your heart leaps out of your rib cage and you quickly return your gaze to the tumult of the ocean. You don’t think you can withstand so much beauty.

“The weather could be better,” he says about the thin drizzle that surrounds you like misty drapes, but you shake your head no.

The subtle pink and blue pastels of his sweater stand out under the overcast sky, the pearl gray clouds highlighting the colours of the nature that surrounds you. Shadows play across the surface of the ocean, deepening its many shades of green, the soft slopes of the mountains evocative of the curves of a sleeping figure draped in emerald velvet.

“Oh no, this is perfect. Everything is perfect,” you murmur, breathing in his scent, woody and musky, with a faint, clean note of your laundry detergent. He smells like home.

Frankie smiles at the clouds, and his swelling heart feels cramped in his chest. He doesn’t think he can withstand so much happiness.

The large, white wagon you’re traveling with is parked behind you, where you screamed at Frankie to stop just before driving over Bixby Bridge. You got so caught up in the scenery you forgot your camera on the passenger seat.

You had always wanted to see Big Sur, and the trip had moved up to the top of your bucket list since you’d come to America. You had told him about this life-long dream of yours in passing, but of course, he had remembered.

And the idea had slowly taken root in his mind as you kept asking him for tales of his childhood and the place where he grew up.

One evening back in January, he had come home from work to find you sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, fiddling with a bottle of British lager, weary and defeated by a particularly rough day of icy cold weather and dealing with unpleasant customers.

The tired but sincere smile you had greeted him with had swept away the last of his doubts, and he had presented you with a half formed plan: flying to San Diego, and road tripping up north along the coast to Monterey. Perhaps even to Yosemite, if you’d like to.

You' ha'd risen up from your chair and jumped up and down excitedly like a kid who’s been told they’re going to Disneyland, and his face brightened up with a dimpled smile, which prompted you to sit on his lap, wrapping yourself around his body and pecking his pretty face with so many kisses he couldn’t open his eyes, his broad shoulders shaking with a breathy chuckle.

You’d agreed to travel in April, to avoid the crushing heat of Southern California, and the two of you had started drawing lists of everything you wanted to see.

Later that night, as you lied in bed naked, tucked in against his warm body with your legs intertwined, you’d ask him, encouraged by the friendly obscurity.

“Will it be ok, for you, Frankie? Going back there?”

He’d kissed the crown of your head, breathing in your scent briefly, before offering a reassuring answer. When in truth, he had no idea how he would feel about it. He hadn't set foot in San Diego, or even California for that matter, since he’d moved to Brooklyn with his sister after their mother’s passing, some twenty-three years ago.

And in the end, it had been just fine. Better, actually, than anything he could have hoped it to be. Seeing you walking these distantly familiar streets, the same ones he had spent hours exploring on his bike as a wandering child, had rewritten the narrative of this past life. Just like you’d done with his time in the army, just like you’d done with his scars, the tangible ones, and the ones only you and him could see.

You wanted a real adventure, you’d said, as real as they come in movies and postcards, camp out in the wild, sleep under the tent, snap a million pictures with your dented Rolleiflex, forget about the GPS and use a roadmap instead, because you were pretty good with these, you’d said. And sure enough, you were. He had had some reservations about the camping part, given how long you spent under the shower every morning, but you’d surprised him with your ability to clean up and get ready in under five minutes in gas station bathrooms.

And with his skills for organisation, a happy occupational hazard of sorts, the road trip was going as smoothly as possible.

Your enthusiasm and candid wonderment were like a drug to him, there was nothing you’d wish he could deny you.

When you’d ask to make a detour to visit Hearst’s castle, he’d immediately agreed. The excitement lit up your eyes as you buoyantly told him of the many tales you’d read about the place. Hearst himself, Marion Davies, Louise Brooks, Buster Keaton, Greta Garbo, Dolores Del Rio, the feud with Orson Welles about Citizen Kane, down to The White Stripes’ Union Forever.

You’d smile at him apologetically for being the most annoying Wikipedia page, but he’d cupped your sweet mug in his large hands and nuzzled your nose, telling you this was the best trip he’d ever been on, after the one you’d taken the previous year in Paris.

“I missed the ocean so much,” you sigh, wrapping both arms around his.

“We don’t live far, we definitely could go more often.”

“Could we fly to Coney Island?” you ask excitedly, tilting your head up.

His laughter rumbles over the waves as he answers, “Right! I can land the chopper on top of the Wonder Wheel, how’s that?”

You push him gently, with a quiet giggle. You know he’s joking but you’re pretty sure he’d try to do it if you kept pressing…

“Did you go often, back when you lived in Paris?” he asks after a pause.

“Any chance I would get. I usually went to Normandie to see the cliffs, by the Channel. It’s my favourite place, it’s really gorgeous. I could spend hours looking at the tide, just get lost in the waves, it’s just so soothing, watching something that existed long before you and that will remain long after you’re gone. Like I could get in the water and drift away, and everything would be fine. But it’s nothing like here. Here is much more… I don’t know, gentle?”

The way you express yourself in sensations triggers something warm within him. He untangles his arm from yours and positions you in front of him, encircling your waist and leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Tomorrow we’ll have a swim, if the weather’s better.”

His warm breath fans the soft hair on your nape and heat flares up in your lower belly. You don’t doubt for a second that this was precisely his intention.

“Did you swim very often, when you lived here?” you ask, and he can hear the arousal in your wavering voice.

“Yea, all the time. I’d ride my bike to the beach and swim for hours. Like you said, the water makes everything better. I would get a thrill swimming as far as I could, until I was exhausted, until I wasn’t sure if I could make it back. But everything would be fine.”

You shiver between his arms at the shared experience and he tightens his hold around you. The two of you get lost in each other’s silence, in the foreign memory of forgotten loneliness.

“That explains the shoulders,” you finally say.

“What’s with the shoulders?” he asks, and his husky tone confirms the mood has shifted.

“You know what’s with the shoulders, Morales. But I’ll show you tonight, anyway.”

—

The night air is cool outside the tent, but inside it’s humid and hot. The blanket scrapes your knees where they rub on it in your swaying movement on top of him, as you try to work in his length, your splayed fingers digging into the plane of his solid chest just like you like it, but it’s useless, Frankie’s restless underneath you, roaming his hands all over your body, cupping your breasts and kneading them greedily, then down to the swell of your ass where he grabs a handful of your flesh and uses it to press you further down on him, but you’re slippery with sweat and he grunts in frustration until you tell him, winded by exertion, “What do you want, baby?”

“Fuck,” he groans, tilting his head back onto the bunched up duvet, and oh god, his neck, his gorgeous neck, the view sends a new wave of slick rushing down your walls, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine,” you say, “just take what you need, Frankie baby.”

He sits up and flips you on your back before you can even finish your sentence, and the air is punched out of your lungs when you hit the floor with a muffled thud.

Oh it is fine, you think, as you downright salivate at the sight of his sweaty chest, his golden skin gleaming in the yellow hue from the camping lamp, his dampened locks glued to his forehead and curling around his ears.

He takes hold of your ankles and places them on his shoulders, and you brace yourself on the blanket, knowing what’s to come. Frankie kisses your calf and as he lines himself up, you see how his eyes have gone completely dark, his pupils blown wide with lust and need.

He drives into you suddenly, to the hilt, and you clench your eyes and trash your head back with a hissed “shit”, but he grinds further in, swirling his hips against your ass, rearranging you for him, and for a brief second you recoil, you don’t think you can make it.

He leans down over you, pushing your knees into your chest, folding you in half. Your frowned brow halts his grinding, but the thought remains, he can’t shake it off. He wants to anchor you to his body, fuck his love into you, care for you and pleasure you in all the ways he knows how until you never feel the need to drift away ever again.

Comprehension strikes you when you open your eyes and look at his face. “I’m here, Frankie, I’m here with you, not going anywhere, baby,” you coo, running your thumb over the crease between his brow.

Frankie lets out a deep breath, lets his shoulders sag, softly kisses your palm, and pulls almost all the way out.

It’s passed. The storm has abated.

He leans back a bit, and you can breathe again, and when he resumes his moving, he rocks into you slowly, with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust.

You moan with the effort, you don’t think he’s ever been this thick or this hard, and when he places his hands on your forearms for leverage, you grip his back, using the hold to try and control his pacing.

“Alright baby, alright baby, come on now, you know you can take it.”

“It’s a lot, Frankie,” you whine.

“Yea? You’ve taken worse than that,” he smiles cockily and you answer with a soundless laugh because, yes, indeed, he’s made you take far worse than that.

He links your forearms over your belly, holding them with one hand, and brings his other one to your lips, prompting them to open. You take in his fingers, suck on them sloppily, with hunger, and he chuckles.

“That’s it, good girl. Look at you, so fucking filthy, of course you can take it.”

He starts rubbing fast circles on your clit and drives into you a little faster, a little harder.

“This okay, baby?” His voice is hoarse with restraint and you feel the tension shifting in your core as a new rush of slick pools down your folds.

“Tell me how it feels, baby, lemme hear your pretty voice.”

“It feels good, Frankie, fuck I- I’m so full, you feel good, you feel so good,” your voice is waning as your climax draws nearer, your belly pulled taut under your crossed wrists.

He’s pounding into you now, hard and fast and deep, his fingers a steady pressure across your bundle of nerves, and you watch as beads of sweat roll down his neck onto his chest, and you warn him, “Oh god I’m coming, Frankie, I’m coming.”

“I can feel it, baby, I can feel it.”

He presses down on your legs, his hips starting to stutter, but he keeps talking, talks you through it, and you let his voice swipe you and pull you under, let it take you over the edge as pleasure washes over you in violent waves.

The flutter of your cunt tips him over and he comes with a loud curse, and when you feel his body slump over yours, you shift under his weight and he pulls out all of a sudden.

Gently, he takes your limp legs off his shoulders, kisses your scraped knees better, and lowers them on the blanket. When you lift your head to look at him, he is kneeled between your spread thighs, watching his spend leaking out of your swollen folds, heaving, a tired smile curling his plush lips.

Your eyes meet, and he tells you, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna fuck it back in.”

—

Tomorrow you will go swimming together in the ocean. He will gaze in amazement and reverence at your smiling eyes, mirroring the sea and the sky that saw him grow up. He will kiss the burn from the sun off your shoulders and you will lick the salt from the water off his neck. You will sit close to him in the white wagon, tracing the route on the map with your finger, to the north, to the east, to the west, or the south, it doesn’t really matter, because anywhere on earth, with him, will always be the best trip ever.

****

Bonus: some pictures Reader captured along the trip 🧡

Taglist (thank you 🧡): @elegantduckturtle @mashomasho @lola766 @flowersandpotplantsandsunshine @nicolethered @littleone65 @bands-tv-movies-is-me @the-rambling-nerd @saintbedelia @pedrostories @trickstersp8 @all-the-way-down-here @deadmantis @hbc8 @princessdjarin @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @gracie7209 @mrsparknuts

[cosmicanakin]

more than an interview ⎯⎯ HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN.

⎯⎯ your nerves are everywhere for your first big interview with hayden christensen himself, but things take an exciting turn when he asks for your number.

YAP SESH! i've only ever written for hayden's characters but never for him 🙁 so here's a little fic, just for him!

WARNING(S) fluff | FAN!READER | one time use of Y/N | tattoos mentioned | workplace romance | mild anxiety. ୨ৎ MATURE!

୨ৎ HAYDEN'S LIBRARY.

your heart races as you smooth down your skirt for what feels like the hundredth time, nerves wracking your body while pacing the length of the small room. today marked your first big interview covering the much anticipated release of ahsoka, and the lucky subject chosen was none other than hayden christensen himself.

ever since the prequels first captured your imagination as a young teen, you've harbored a hopeless crush on the actor behind anakin skywalker. his smoldering screen presence and talent at bringing such depth to a complex character left you wholly enamored, fueling artistic pursuits like drawing and even getting a tattoo tribute on your 18th birthday.

glancing down at the familiar lines inked below your left wrist, fingers tracing over them brought both comfort and fresh butterflies. would hayden appreciate the sentiment behind such a permanent mark of fandom, or find it odd and off-putting? you couldn't decide which terrified you more in that moment, the impending interview or potentially showing him such an intimate secret.

before anxiety could mount further, a light knock sounded at the door. "they're ready for you, y/n." with a final calming breath you nodded, steeling nerves as best able while trailing your guide down bustling halls. rounds of cameras and crew zipped to and fro in organized chaos, only serving to heighten your jittery state.

entering the room, bright lights and microphones came into view alongside your subject for the day. hayden sat relaxed in an armchair, striking features gently illuminated while conversing easily with staff. at your approach he glanced up, meeting your eyes with a warm smile that set butterflies aflutter once more.

"hayden, this is y/n l/n, she'll be conducting your interview today. make yourselves comfortable and we'll begin filming in 5." with that your guide slipped away, leaving you alone under his keen gaze that seemed to assess every minute detail.

stumbling through introductions you both settled into adjacent seats, closing the small distance between as a PA adjusted lighting and levels. "it's truly an honor hayden, i've been a huge fan of your work for so long. thank you for taking the time today."

he graced you with another genuous smile, one that made you feel like fire was blazing all over your body. "the pleasure is all mine y/n, i'm always happy to chat with fellow star wars enthusiasts."

you then launched into prepared questions relying heavily on note cards to steady shaking hands. hayden spoke eloquently of the joys in revisiting ahsoka and anakin's dynamic through animation, the creative challenges of lending voice without physical presence, as well as hints of where future stories may lead the beloved character.

absorbed in the discussion, you almost missed the lull signaling a natural break between topics. glancing down to reorder cards, hayden's eyes caught a glimpse of your inked tribute.

"is that...?" trailing off inquisitively, his gaze held yours in silent permission to explain. heart thundering in your ribs, you extended your arm stiffly for closer inspection with a sheepish smile.

"oh yeah, it's a little silly. but i got this on my 18th birthday as a sort of tribute to anakin. he's my favorite character in star wars thanks to you." chuckling nervously, you shrugged awaiting judgment on such a bold permanent choice.

instead, hayden gently cradled your wrist to examine lines tracing each curve with a focus that sent shivers through your veins. his thumb rubbed absent circles causing thoughts to short circuit, breath hitching slightly at the contact.

"not silly at all, i'm truly flattered. it's not often i come across such devoted fans, let alone marks of appreciation so meaningful. thank you for sharing this with me, it will certainly remain a treasured memory."

releasing your now flaming skin, hayden graced you with a look loaded with warmth that threatened composure. frantically you shifted topics back to the interview, desperate to regain threads of coherency spinning out of control under his gaze. thankfully he indulged without further comment, captivating the audience once more.

all too soon your allotted time came to an end, both of you graciously thanking one another while crew prepped for the next guest. hayden bid farewell with a lingering handshake, flashing one last smile that left you lightheaded long after exiting the stage.

leaning against the nearest wall, you attempted to regulate your breathing and pounding heart. had you truly just conducted that interview, seen that sweet genuine reaction to a silly fangirl choice that meant the world? pinching yourself proved no dreams, only solid reality awaiting further processing back at home with friends.

giddiness prevented focus for the remainder of promotional rounds, drifting through subsequent interviews on autopilot buzzing with endorphins. by late afternoon you found solace beside a refreshments table, quietly replaying treasured memories while nibbling on a giant cookie.

"y/n!" whirling at the call of your name, disbelief flooded as none other than hayden christensen hurriedly approached with a beaming smile. had he mistaken you for another, or somehow recalled you despite a packed schedule? politeness held your tongue awaiting clarification.

"i'm glad i caught you before leaving, this day has been a whirlwind. i hope i'm not being too forward, but i was wondering if i could maybe take you out for a drink sometime? get to know one another outside of work and such. only if you're interested of course."

heart ceased functioning at the implication, mind reeling to comprehend such an opportunity unfolding before your very eyes. hayden christensen, long-time crush and the subject of your teenage fantasies, was genuinely interested in you beyond surface-level small talk of the press circuit.

"i-i would love that hayden. um just give me a second," you said fumbling for your phone with shaky hands, exchanging numbers felt surreal akin to glimpsing behind intricate hollywood veils so seldom witnessed up close.

"wonderful, it's a date then. i'll text you later this week to discuss plans further. see you then y/n, take care." with a final radiant smile hayden turned on his heel, disappearing behind heavy doors towards whatever awaited beyond this magical day.

plopping onto a chair legs feeling like they might give out at any second, you simply stared bewildered at open phone grasped tightly in palm. had any of this truly happened, or had stress and fangirl aspirations finally sent imagination into overdrive? only time would tell where genuine connection may blossom if given proper chance to take root. for now, replaying treasured snapshots on a loop would have to suffice to quell your pounding heart until destiny worked her mysterious ways.

true to word, your phone lit up later that week with an unknown number. unlocking brought a message reading simply "hey, it's hayden. are you free saturday night?" giddy butterflies exploded anew seeing his name, fingers rushing to confirm eagerly while coordinating logistics.

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

🌤️❄

🌤 This bit from Dragon Age AU, under the cut!

She takes a slow, deep breath, her chest rising and falling like a wave on the ocean.  “I’ve always struggled to accept my lot as a mage, to remember that the Maker made me this way for a reason.  Magic was his gift to me, so I could serve Him in the way he intended, but there are times when I just can’t see His path for me as anything but a curse.  It shames me to say it, but it’s true.”

“Well…” You measure your words with great care, contemplating the best way to get your point across without upsetting her or sounding dismissive.  “You know my thoughts on the Maker,” you say.  “But if there’s anything I agree with the Big Guy on, it’s that magic is a gift, one that we’re meant to use to make things better, to make the world better.”  You press your hand against your chest, and Hope responds in kind, wrapping Herself around you until the glow of your skin starts reflecting off the table.  “If I know anything, Beatrice, I know that.  So, please, don’t hate what you are.  What you are is beautiful.”

 A tear escapes from the corner of her eye, tracing a path down her cheek, but she smiles again.  It quivers on her lips, unsteady, but enduring.  “Thank you.  For saying so.” she whispers.

“I’ll say it again.  However many times you need me to.  You’re amazing, Bea.  Anyone who doesn’t see that is a fuckwit.”

She laughs as though you’ve knocked the wind out of her, her shoulders shaking hard enough to make her chair rattle in place.  There are more tears, but they seem to spring now from happiness rather than pain.  You join in with her, unable to help it, because making her laugh like this, open and unrestrained, makes you feel like a god.  

And then, when she settles again, she does something that absolutely knocks you off your feet.  She squeezes your hand in hers and stares deeply into your eyes.  “You are extraordinary, Ava.  I see that clearly.  I’ve seen it every day since I’ve met you.  I know you hate the title you’ve been given, and I know you don’t believe in the Maker.  But I do, and, if you’ll allow me to say so, I don’t think there’s anyone else here more deserving of His blessing, or of being His champion.”

Your entire body feels suddenly suffused with heat.  Your eyes sting, your cheeks light up like a bed of coals, and your chest feels impossibly warm.  You look away, unable to bear the sincerity of her gaze lest it smash through your ribs and steal your heart from the cavity.  “You need to stop being good at that,” you tell her solemnly.

“Being good at what?”

“Saying nice shit to me.”

She snorts.  “If I have to stop being good at it, then you need to do the same.”

“Great, it’s agreed.  We’ll only give each other stupid compliments from now on.”

That sets her off again, and keeps her laughing through another pot of tea and all the way through the evening until Flissa kicks you both out so she can close for the night.

//////

❄ And then this, from SCP au

//////

The table’s other occupant was a woman who appeared to be in her late 20s, with messy blonde hair chopped short to just below her ears.  She was the same size as Ava, but more muscular, having a build akin to a trained athlete.  While Ava was all restless movement, this woman was relaxed, leaning back in her chair and fiddling with her fork.  One of the cameras showcased her face, where a long scar could be seen over her right eye.  A prominent identifying feature, if one was needed.

SCP-105, “Iris”, had a long and storied history, even for an SCP, and Beatrice knew only a little of it: her civilian name, the basics of her ability, and her inclusion on the doomed operation known as Omega-7.  Nearly ten years ago, some bright mind within the Foundation proposed the idea of weaponizing various humanoid anomalies, forming Mobile Task Force Omega-7, “Pandora’s Box”.  The details of the endeavor were highly classified, but the outcome was not.  It was a bloody, violent, horrifying failure, one that 105 had notably survived.  Beatrice watched the woman in question whistle softly at Columbo before feeding him a piece of sausage.

[SCP-XXXX: Hey, don’t steal my dog, Iris!

SCP-105 smirks at SCP-XXXX while petting SCP-XXXX-1E, which licks her hand.

SCP-105: Step up your game then, pipsqueak.  Or I might sneak him out of your room.

SCP-XXXX: First of all, we're the same height.  Second of all, you can’t.  He loves me too much.  Columbo, here!

SCP-XXXX-1E wags its tail and waddles back to SCP-XXXX.]

Beatrice watched the exchange, feeling a smile creep onto her lips.  She quickly glanced at the guard, but found their attention firmly back on the screens as Ava and 105 continued to banter back and forth.  Eventually, Ava picked up a piece of egg from her plate and threw it, much to the other woman’s amusement, a smirk pulling on the edges of her scar tissue.  The sight of it unsettled Beatrice, before a distressing question came unbidden to the forefront of her thoughts.

If Omega-7 hadn’t failed, would Ava be on it?  Maybe or maybe not.  Her powers would be highly valuable on the battlefield, but her disability would make her vulnerable.  Unless they chose to continue the J-class experiments, which was a horrifying prospect.  They would also have to convince (or coerce) her to test her powers on humans, and Beatrice didn’t want to consider how the Foundation might do that.

She also remembered what Lilith told her when she admitted to stopping the J experiments.  We think we understand the extent of her powers, but we don’t.  We know nothing.  If she was right, if Ava possessed other, more dangerous abilities that no one knew about, then perhaps it was best that Omega-7 went defunct long before she arrived.  Some doors were better left shut.

[mae-haha]

DEVIL’S GOTTEN INTO MY BABY

~

This is a story that I’ve been working on for the past month. Let me know any critiques you have because I’m always trying to improve my writing! Also the ending of this fic could go anywhere XD

Warnings: none

~

On the Eve of New Years Day the weather wasn’t particularly easy. The moon hung high, hidden behind foggy clouds. The light barely poked through, resulting in an emotional tone hanging over the night.

Avoiding the puddles on the old brick road, you skipped clumsily through the crowd of people standing in front of the venue. Ivy tugged roughly at your wrist, urging you to keep up.

“We are going to miss it! Hurry!!”

In all honesty, you could really care less about this concert your friend begged you to go to, but you couldn’t turn down the opportunity to go watch live music. The venue hall was filled with people of all backgrounds. Smoke of both kinds hung in the air in a haze. It was loud with chatter of excitement and drunkenness.

As Ivy and you finally found the entrance of the pit, your belly swelled with anxiety. The crowd mixed with teenage girls, emo boys, and middle aged rock dads. The lights were already off indicating the beginning of the show. Ivy pushed past as many people she could in order to reach the barricade. It truly was a miracle you made it to the gate.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe we made it!” Ivy screamed. She had been adamant in telling you everything about the rising band. She lived and breathed for this band and you were just happy to see the moment when she finally hears them live. Ivy was tall and lanky with a black wolf cut and bright green eyes. She had the confidence of a rockstar and the ideologies of a hippie. You had been best friends since middle school, going through all the awkward stages together.

The rising adrenaline from the anticipation settled over your body. You’d never done well in big crowds and this was a big risk. In the end, you were just happy to be with your best friend. “I’m so excited for you Ives!” She smiled warmly at you in return.

“You are going to love this band! They are so kickass!” Ivy grabbed your hand with a intense squeeze. You’d just hoped all this was worth it. Every inch of your body was pressed to another person. As soon as the first string of a guitar sounded, the crowd pushed roughly towards the stage. Your ribs smashed into the gate causing you to lose your breath.

The stage lights beamed and the band was in full sight. Wasting no time, they began their first song of the night. The tune reminded you of the music your dad listened to when he was alive. The music would travel through your entire house, filling up the air with Fleetwood Mac, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Led Zeppelin.

You immediately look to your friend. Ivy’s whole body was shaking as tears filled her green eyes. She was in shock and absolutely speechless. Your heart warmed at the sight. Ivy had been waiting months for this, buying her outfit the second she got her tickets.

The lead singer had a voice that could hook anybody listening. His whole being made for the stage as he hopped around stage. He had on an Elvis-esc jumpsuit that had visions of renaissance paintings littered about. His skin glowed in the light and his shaggy curls bounced with every step. The bass player, barefoot and shirtless, had an androgynous air to him. His long, wavy brown hair hung just below his shoulders. His mouth tweaked with every strum. The drummer methodically and vigorously slammed against his instrument. His wild, black curls flew around as he head-banged to the beat. His shoulders were broad and muscular.

The guitarist caught your eye the moment they appeared. His pants were black and white striped. His vest laid against his bare chest with layered necklaces. His already damp, brown hair swayed back and forth as he rocked. He had an identical face to the lead singer, but he had a dark essence about him. His eyes pierced yours once his solo began. Your heart instantly fell, this felt odd. They were like daggers, falling harshly against you. He moved towards the front of the stage and attacked his riff, all the while locking you into a trance.

Trying to take a step back, your body was met with a brick wall of people. The room began to spiral and you had to grip the barricade to stay up. Ivy took notice of your dizziness and reached her arms around you. “Hey are you okay?! Do I need to get you out of here?” She whisper-yelled into your ear. You were starting to lose consciousness as you tried, “I don’t feel too goo-“

Your body went limp in Ivy’s arms. She struggled to keep you standing and called one of the security to help. They instantly lifted you and Ivy over the gate and rushed y’all back stage. The guitarists hesitated in his solo and watched as they took you away. He simply looked to to the others and finished the rest of the set.

~~~~

When the light finally pierced your eyes, you sat up rapidly. “Oh my god! Are you okay?!” Ivy practically screamed. You took in your surroundings, eyeing the couches and suitcases that laid about the room. You steadied your breath when Ivy took your hand, grounding you back to reality.

“Yeah I’m okay. What happened?” Ivy shook her head, “I don’t know! One minute we were enjoying the music and the next you’re passing out on me!”

You tried to search your brain for anything you could remember, but the only two things you remember was being smashed by the railing and

His eyes

His deep brown irises pulled you in. His hands talked to you. His tune luring you into a false state of security. His essence glowing, you couldn’t tear yourself from his gaze. The last image you saw was him smirking as your world went black.

You looked to Ivy in fake confusion knowing that this was bit much for you, let alone her. “Can we please just get out of here?” You pleaded. “Yeah let me just go grab a security guy!” Ivy jumped towards the door, running down the hall. You sat in silence, trying to collect yourself before facing the crowd. You were lost in thought when the door clicked open. Your eyes shot up, expecting it was Ivy coming to get you.

His eyes locked you in once again. All four members of the band entered. The curly headed one rushed towards you, making you flinch back. He kneeled before you, looking at you eye level. His face contorted in guilt. “We saw you faint! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

You looked at him in shock. You nervously shook your head.

“We wanted to come make sure you were alright.” He spoke.

Your eyes followed from his beaten up Chelsea boots to his striped pants to his sweaty chest to his alluring eyes. He had moved from his place at the door to right behind the singer. His presence demanded attention, his voice was smooth and kind of slurred.

“I promise I’m okay. I not sure why that happened.” You looked to the ground in embarrassment. ‘How pathetic’ you thought to yourself, ‘of course you would get yourself into this kind of situation.’

“I’m josh by the way!” The singer greeted you with a joyful handshake. The other two members took the opportunity to come by your side to meet you.

“I’m Sam and this is Danny!” The bass player introduced, Danny added a small hi.

“It’s nice to meet you all!” You smiled.

You looked to the guitarist with question. He simply took you by the hand and kissed your knuckles. “I’m Jacob.”

You were stunned in the moment and it took you a minute to realize they didn’t know your name.

“Oh! I’m (Y/N), but everyone just calls me shy.” You kept eye contact as you spoke. “It is a pleasure shy.” He said lowly.

“SHY WE CAN G-“

Ivy burst through the door then stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes went wide with pure excitement. “Oh my god! Hi!”

In unison, the band replied with a small hello. Ivy raced to stand beside you, looking you up and down to search for any injuries. “Are you ready to go?” She looked like that was the last thing she wanted to do given her favorite band standing right there.

“You don’t have to leave so soon!” Josh spoke up looking at Jake. Jake giving him a death glare. You watched the interaction getting the hint that it would be smart to leave.

“I should probably go lay down, I’m still feeling a little dizzy.” You watched jakes face have a twinge of sadness flash over it. He took a step closer to you and grabbed your hand once again. He lifted it to his lips slowly, taking his time. His warm, soft lips met your ring finger. You felt his had shove something into yours and you clamped your fingers around it. “I hope you feel better soon.” His eyes looked into your soul and spoke to you there.

They next thing you knew, you were sitting, buckled into Ivy’s red Honda Civic. What just happened? Was that real? His eyes.

You remembered your gift. Looking down at your hand, you unfolded the piece of paper.

xxx-xxx-xxxx,

Jtk

[zoellajulien]

come upon morning

(Peter Parker x Reader)

angst - words: 2.1k

OPEN ENDING BELOW

"Alright! Enough from you!" Your friend laughed loudly as he smacked your other friend in the back of the head, turning to face you. "It's your turn. Give us all the details!"

You shifted awkwardly, laughing and rubbing your arms for comfort. The conversation happening between your group was on the subject of 'the ones who got away', which you all had experience in. "Fine, fine. Just be quiet and sit down!"

A hush fell over the room as you opened a book and pulled some photos out of the page. Curiosity spread as the photos were passed around for everyone to look at.

"Why do you keep these on that page?" One friend asked, looking over your shoulder at the highlighted text.

"I keep them close to a quote on it. It says 'you'll always be mine, in the back of my mind. I'll look for you in my next life.' I found this quote when I was in a dark place, and it reminded me of him. Because that's how I'll always feel." You explained to them, passing another picture around.

In the photo, the boy had a straw taped badly to his head with a ridiculous smile spread across his face. His nose was wrinkled too, adding to the joyous atmosphere the picture captured. His brown curls were splattered across his head and face in a mess, along with a hastily put-in butterfly clip. You felt warmth blooming inside you while looking at it. Your friends laughed at the picture, pointing out various (but positive) things about him to one another.

"What are you doing? You look ridiculous!"

"I'm a unicorn! You should be a unicorn too!"

"Wait until Tony sees this. No- I am not sticking a straw to my forehead like a crackhead!"

"Psh, you don't know what you're missing, then!"

"That boy was my whole world. We were best friends before we lovers, but we always did everything together. One time, we both failed an exam on accident, and celebrated! We drove around for hours just because." You reminisced.

"Dude, one kid sitting next to me was all 'I got this in the bag! Studied all night long!'" Peter chuckled, pushing his curls from his face with the hand that held yours. He pushed his lips against your knuckles softly.

"Are you serious? Dude, if you can't even pass the exam, then everyone else definitely failed. Their ego was 100% bruised afterward, I'm sure of it." You snickered, blushing as your eyes cast over his form. His skin glowed from the kiss of sunset colors. "Hey! Careful! You almost hit that bird! Ugh, your driving is the worst!"

Peter's laugh brought a smile to your lips as you teased him, knowing full-well you drove much worse than he did. Poking his side with your finger to tease him more, he squirmed away and began to make faces.

"Oi! I'm trying to keep us alive! Stop that!" He snickered.*

"I hope you know that we are absolutely not listening to this song! My turn to control the cord!" You cheered, snatching his phone away.

"What? No! I'm the driver, I control the music!"

"In your dreams, Parker! And don't take your eyes off the freaking road, you health-hazard of a human being!"

"Oh, please! I drive better than you do! And either way, you know you love me!"

"That, yes, that is very true. I can not deny that." You giggled with a happy sigh.

"What else did you guys do?"

"So much! We went on great adventures and vacations together but also enjoyed simple moments. One day, I was frustrated with everything so I started crying on the kitchen floor when the empty pot slipped from my hand." You laughed at yourself, shaking your head. "He came in with a sympathetic heart and dumped a bunch of pots on the floor. At first, I got even angrier. Because, hello, that was a huge mess! But then he started constructing them together on a mat and grabbed two dowels for the both of us."

Peter cursed when he saw your form, panicking slightly as he tried to come up with a solution to fix the sad mood you owned. The poor brunette had come in, more than ready to defend you from an attacker, after being alerted to the crashing sound of a pan hitting the tiled flooring. Trying to think quickly on his feet, he leaned past you to pick up said fallen pot along with a large group of others.

"What are you doing? I swear to god I will smash your face into the cabinet if you think I'm going to clean this up."

Peter wordlessly grabbed your hand and placed the dowel in your hand, kissing each finger as he twisted them into a fist. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, smiling sweetly at your confused face.

"What do I need this for?" You questioned, still slightly irritated.

"What? What was he doing, exactly?"

"We actually started playing them together, on the floor. He cheered me up in less than an hour. I went from crying in frustration to crying from laughter." A blush crept its way up your body as a love-sick smile made its appearance.

Crawling on the floor, Peter gently pulled you by your empty hand next to him. A whine of protest escaped your lungs, but you eventually gave in and looked at the pots in front of you. He reached around you, his arms controlling yours. He began beating the wooden sticks against the metal and copper pots.

"I love you! I love you! My darling!" He sang out dramatically, badly playing out an improvised tune, hiding his smile when he noticed you were forcing one to hide. "My darling! She's oh-so-beautiful!"

Laughter bubbled within your chest and escaped into the air around the two of you. A smirk made its made to your boyfriend's lips at the achievement of making you happy. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before continuing his actions.

Eventually, he moved and sat beside you, using his wooden stick to bang on the pans. He laughed after you made a pun referring to the pots, shaking his head in amusement.

"Come one, sing a duet with me."

"Nooo."

Peter began singing loudly but slow enough for you to try and match his lyrics. You were pretty sure the two of you were bothering the neighbors at this point.

A bubble of snickers filled the room after someone mentioned just how in love you seemed to be even after he left.

"You see, this big teddy bear of a human being loved to travel, so one day he showed up outside my job and picked me up. We ended up driving for a long time until we had a picnic underneath the stars. I taught him a bunch of the constellations."

"Peter! C'mon, tell me where we're going! You're boring me!" You joke, shoulders shaking in laughter when you do.

"No! You can't know yet! It's called a surprise, babe!" He protests, taking one hand off the wheel and easing his foot off the accelerator. Using the empty hand he has, he pokes your side once safely stopped at a red light.

"Ugh. You're a pain. I hope you know that." You paused for a few minutes before saying: "Are we there yet?"

"We are literally still driving! Relax!"

The drive continued for another hour or so before you pulled up onto a hill that sat beside a glistening lake. By that time, it was well past midnight. You would have fallen asleep if Peter's energetic and proding, literally, personality. He sang loudly to you and was constantly poking you in the ribs, although gently.

"We've arrived! I hope you're hungry!"

After the picnic, you rested by his side, enjoying the comforting kisses he left across your face. "I love you, but I'd appreciate it if you would pay attention to my lesson!" You whined*

"Alright, Teach. What do you have for me to learn? Not math, I hope." He replied in turn with a broad smirk.

With a sharp eye-roll, you sat up, taking his finger, and pointing it at the sky. "Big dipper." You drug it over to a separate spot. "Little dipper."

"I like this lesson. Teach me more."

"He sounded amazing. What happened to you two?"

"The part of him yearning for adventure became too difficult to ignore, and he knew he needed to go. Of course, he offered for me to come with him, but my parents refused. They told me how my focus was to be on where I was going in the future, so their force kept us apart." You set down the Polaroid picture to pick up another one, this one of a car. The brunette sat on top of it, clearly singing and dancing. "The night he left was a hard one for us all. His aunt and mentor came over so we could all wish him goodbye. I was angry at my parents, but they were right. My future was very uncertain with him, especially since he didn't know where he would be going."

A stray tear made it's down your cheek, dropping onto the hoodie of his you wore. Your friend wrapped an arm over your shoulder.

"Eventually, after he packed his car for the journey and his weeping aunt gave him one last hug, I was called over. I opened the door to be closer to him and sat, looking at him. His cheeks were damp with tears, as were mine, but we smiled. He put his hand into mine and kissed me, so softly, as if I were glass."

"You look beautiful today, you know. Is that dress new?" Peter's fingers danced up your arm to cup your cheek.

"I bought it just for you, for today. I wanted you to see me looking my best, so you can remember me this way when you go."

"I still don't know if I want to go." He admitted, ducking his head before looking back into your eyes.

"You have to. You need to go because your heart is calling." You whispered, reluctant to admit the truth as much as he was. "And you don't have to be scared, because I will always be with you along this journey." You placed your hand on his heart.

"He pleaded for me to go that night, to go with him. I told him I couldn't, that it wasn't an option."

You set down the picture while standing, grabbing one from underneath a flipped-over picture frame. One of your friends picked up the frame and felt anguish at seeing the picture inside the glass.

The same boy the conversation was about sat somewhere, clearly in a place with bright lights. He wore a white, short-sleeve top that ended with the picture. His eyes were blood-shot, curls messy as can be, but a smile sat across his lips, despite being clearly in pain.

"This noise is going to be the death of me, I swear."

"Kid, you've got a lot more fighting to kill you right now than the lights. At least try to act concerned for yourself." Tony's voice strained, dry from tears. "They are probably the smallest problem you have as of now."

"Don't say stuff like that. Please." Your voice croaked, all the tears you had now gone from crying them away. "It can't be like that. No."

"That picture was taken a few months before he left. This one is a copy of the photo he took with him." You explained, showing it around. "I loved him so much, you know, and he loved me too. I could tell since he had some much trouble leaving us. But I knew he had to go."

In the last photo sat you both, side-by-side, asleep. One of his arms draped over your side while he spooned you from behind with his face buried into the skin of your neck. You had hair flopped over one eye and one hand tucked into his dangling by your front. The two of you had corresponding colors on your nails, a bright red. It had been his idea after a tired sleep-over reached well past two in the morning. It was a fond memory of yours.

Your friend pulled you tight to his chest, noticing the balance you were struggling to keep between sobbing or staying straight-faced. Eventually, the tears came out, but a smile stayed on your lips as you remembered Peter.

You remembered his laughter that was always accompanied by his contagious smile or smirk. Also on the list, you remembered his ability to sweet-talk you into sneaking out to see him on nights he wasn't 100% busy. However, you also remembered how he left you, leaving a longing feeling that turned into unheard wishes.

You just wish his departure had actually happened like that.

taglist: @rorybutnotgilmore @petersasteria @elios-timotea

[tickly-trashcan]

Picture Perfect {MitsuKou}

A/N: i am,,, so excited to write for these two omfg. They’re such a big comfort for me, i hope i was able to capture them well in this fic! I also hope I managed to get enough tsundere mitsuba in it for ya hehe. Enjoy!

Summary: Kou and Mitsuba are out in the garden taking pictures when Mitsuba discovers something new about Kou.

Word Count: 1.7k (under the cut)

Mitsuba and Kou were walking together outside of the school near the gardens, Mitsuba with his camera in hand as he took pictures of everything around him, feeling rather inspired.

Insects, flowers, the fruits and veggies, nothing could escape Mitsuba’s lens. Finally he turned to Kou, who was leaning down in the flower patch and picking a few carnations. Mitsuba snapped his camera, a quick flash glaring in the corner of Kou’s eye as he turned, looking at Mitsuba who only smiled at him.

“How handsome did I look in that one?” Kou teased with a toothy grin, making Mitsuba blush.

“N-Not handsome at all!” Mitsuba quickly answered, huffing. Kou rolled his eyes. Typical Mitsuba…

Mitsuba clicked through the pictures on his camera, stopping at the one he had just taken of Kou. He smiled softly, zooming in a little bit. 

“I think I look pretty handsome, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kou quipped, now standing behind Mitsuba. Mitsuba screeched in surprise and jumped, not expecting Kou to suddenly be behind him and seeing him staring - no, checking Kou’s picture!

“D-Don’t sneak up on people like that, creep!” Mitsuba quickly snapped, pulling his camera closer to himself. Kou frowned at the insult and rubbed the back of his neck. Mitsuba huffed and Kou only chuckled softly, muttering out an apology.

“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture?” Kou asked, leaning to the side so that he was in Mitsuba’s peripheral vision again. Mitsuba’s cheeks warmed at the sight of the blonde boy, and he quickly shook his head to try and rid himself of the blush.

“Is that… a no?”

“No! I mean… yeah, you can take a picture. Just be careful with my camera!” Mitsuba quickly tacked on the last sentence, making Kou chuckle. He handed the camera to Kou, who was a bit shocked at its weight. He held the camera up to his face, looking through the lens as he followed a butterfly, quickly snapping a picture. 

He pulled it back and looked at it, groaning in annoyance. 

“It’s blurry.”

Mitsuba glanced over at the indeed blurry picture and chuckled. Kou looked at Mitsuba with a disappointed puppy look and Mitsuba felt his heart throb. 

“Can you help me?”

Mitsuba huffed, crossing his arms. Kou looked down dejectedly and kicked a rock. Mitsuba looked at Kou again and sighed, reaching his hand out.

“Give me the camera really quick.”

Kou immediately perked up and handed the camera to Mitsuba, who smiled at Kou. He held up the camera to his eye and followed the butterfly, snapping a quick picture. He showed it to Kou, who whistled.

“It’s not blurry,” He said, and Mitsuba scoffed.

“Of course it’s not. Congratulations, you have working eyes,” Mitsuba jeered, and Kou frowned, putting his hands on his hips.

“Can you just show me how to take a better picture?”

Mitsuba nodded, smiling sweetly as he handed the camera back to Kou. He stood behind him and moved his hands so he was holding the camera up to his face. Both of their faces warmed as they stood in close proximity with each other, Kou shaking slightly from being nervous.

“Stop shaking! You’ll get a blurry picture again!” Mitsuba reprimanded, and Kou quickly straightened up, stopping his shaking.

Mitsuba pulled his hands back along Kou’s arms, making him shiver and huff as Mitsuba warned him again to hold still. Kou tried to hold still, but Mitsuba’s hands gently holding his upper bicep, so close to his underarm was making him nervous. He giggled softly out of anticipation and Mitsuba groaned.

“You’re so fidgety, what’s wrong?!”

“N-Nothing!”

Mitsuba huffed and gave his arms a light squeeze as a means of warning Kou to keep himself still. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Kou to squeak suddenly and pull his arms back, nearly dropping the camera. 

Mitsuba looked at Kou with a questioning look, and Kou froze, his face bright red. Mitsuba squeezed his hands again, and Kou jolted, though he had better control over his voice at this point.

“Kou, are you-”

“I’m not!” Kou immediately hissed, cutting Mitsuba off. The pink-haired boy chuckled, wiggling his fingers on Kou’s arms as he shrieked, jumping forward and away from Mitsuba, turning around to glare at him, face bright red.

“Are you sure you’re not? You seem pretty tick-”

“Don’t say it!” Kou whined. Mitsuba only grinned, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers in the air, making Kou giggle nervously in anticipation. He shoved the camera into Mitsuba’s chest, Mitsuba quickly scrambling to grab it before it could fall as Kou bolted in the other direction.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Mitsuba yelled, setting the camera down gently and chasing after Kou. 

Kou ran and ran, he was about to run off the school grounds when he tripped over the Confession Tree’s roots. He cursed as he fell flat on his face, scrambling to try and get up before Mitsuba could catch him, but he was too late.

MItsuba finally caught up to him, panting heavily as he quickly pinned Kou down by straddling his back, Kou wailing beneath him.

“Don’t you dare! Let me gooooo!” He yelled, throwing his hands around as he squirmed madly underneath Mitsuba. Mitsuba only chuckled, lowering his hands and pinching Kou’s ribs experimentally. He squeaked, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth.

Mitsuba grinned and dug in, tweaking Kou’s ribs with pinches and prods, his giggles filling the air despite him trying to keep them restrained. They were slightly muffled by his hand, though it didn’t remain covering his lips for very long when Mitsuba’s hands travelled up to Kou’s underarms, poking and scribbling in the hollows.

Kou hollered suddenly, clamping his arms down as he squirmed beneath Mitsuba, who laughed.

“Not thehehehehere! Mit-Mitsubahahaha!”

“Your laugh is so cute!” He said mindlessly. He quickly realized what exactly he had just said and blushed madly, correcting himself. “I-I mean, not cute! You sound like a shrieking monkey!”

Mitsuba… wasn’t necessarily wrong. Kou had quite the cackle, it was loud and bright and squeaky, with a few brief snorts mixed in between. He wanted to cover his mouth again, he thought his laugh was so embarrassing. But with Mitsuba tickling his underarms with such ease, he was finding that covering up his laugh was going to be difficult.

“Mitsubahahahaha! Dammit, stahahahahap!”

“No way, this is pure gold,” Mitsuba said eagerly, hungry to test out every spot of Kou’s and to hear every bit of laughter that would emerge from the blonde’s lips. 

He started to rub circles in his underarms with his thumb, making Kou screech as he tried to clamp his arms harder against his sides, squirming madly as he tried to shake Mitsuba off, but he wasn’t budging. 

“GYAHahaha, plehehease! Sohohomewhere else, not thehehehere!”

“Hmm, somewhere else? Alright, how about here?”

Mitsuba pinched Kou’s waist, making him screech as he shook more violently than before, pounding his fist into the ground.

“Nohohoho wait! Not thehehehere!”

“You said to switch spots, I choose here!”

Before Kou could protest further Mitsuba’s hands were around his waist, giving it a firm squeeze as he squawked, laughter flowing from his lips loudly as he cackled. He shook his head around, snorting and squealing as Mitsuba continued to tickle his waist, going up and down his sides as Kou could do nothing except pound his fists into the dirt and laugh.

“Mitsubahahaha! It’s bahahahad, plehehease no more!”

“How bad? Tell meeee~” Mitsuba teased, rubbing circles on Kou’s back, just below his kidneys as he cackled madly, shaking his head.

“BAHAhahahad!!” Was all Kou could formulate before dissolving into unintelligible hysterics. He could feel tears beginning to prick the corners of his eyes as he continued to howl. Mitsuba continued to explore Kou’s torso, digging into his ribs before going back to his sides and giving those a few more good squeezes and even pinching at his hips. 

“Boop, boop, boop,” Mitsuba chanted as he poked randomly at Kou’s torso, from his ribs down to his hips, making Kou jump and squeak with every touch as his giggles dispersed and he shook with quiet laughter. Mitsuba finally got off the poor boy, deciding that he had had enough.

Kou laid there for a minute, just trying to regain control of his breathing as Mitsuba frowned, worrying that he might’ve gone too far. It was never his intention to really tire Kou out, he was just excited to hear his laugh…

Kou sat up, a big, bright smile on his face as he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Wow, you really got me good!” He said, his voice full of glee as he turned to Mitsuba, who stared at him in shock.

“Wh-Why are you acting so happy right now? I just tickled you half to death,” Mitsuba said, slight concern in his voice as Kou blinked. He laughed suddenly and blushed a little bit, scooting a bit closer to Mitsuba.

“I’ve never really minded being tickled, and it was nice when you were the one doing it,” He said honestly, making Mitsuba’s face burn hotter than a volcano. He hit at Kou’s chest, pouding his hands against him as he whined.

“You - You can’t just say things like that! It’s embarrassing!” He wailed, and Kou only laughed, grabbing Mitsuba’s hands.

“I mean it though! You made it really fun…” Kou said, the last part closer to a whisper as the two blushed bright red. Mitsuba finally broke the silence, his voice squeaky as he barely managed to speak.

“I had fun too,” He said quietly, and Kou smiled. Mitsuba averted his gaze and turned his head, huffing. Kou chuckled, pressing a quick peck to Mitsuba’s cheek as he had his head turned, and he immediately snapped back around, Kou’s face still right next to Mitsuba’s as their noses touched. Mitsuba squeaked and fell backwards, yelling.

“D-Don’t do that! Stupid pervert!”

Kou laughed and fell down next to Mitsuba, looking over at him as Mitsuba rubbed his cheek with his hand, Mitsuba trying to muster a look of disgust despite the grin on his face.

“I have exorcist germs now, yuck!”

“You love me and you know it,” Kou teased, and Mitsuba narrowed his eyes at him, wiggling his fingers at him. Kou squeaked and tried to jump up, but Mitsuba already had his hands on him, scribbling over his tummy as Kou laughed even more, the two of them having plenty of fun in each other's company.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Finally finished this! Sorry I’m a bit late.

Made this song in pairing with a new Revalink soulmark fic: Paraphrase

Based on a prompt @motherhyrule (Happy Birthday and thanks!)

Read it on AO3 or, here...

Chapter 1: Holes

There were holes in the sky.

While the artificial blue glow of Vah Medoh was a constant reminder of abnormal circumstances of this view—looking out into the east, you could be fooled for a moment to believe in serenity.

The details of the great, inky abyss were blurred by the occasional grey cloud, crawling towards the light of a decaying moon. Its pale, crescent complexion gave a humble glow to the dancing seas of grass and the motionless hills of glistening lake water. Below, wooden huts embraced one another on the edges of an ancient spire. The winds had crafted a fine sculpture, the unique silhouette of Rito Village cast faint shadows on Lake Totori.

There was distant whistling from either the cutting breeze or a bored village guard, perhaps leaning against his spear, dreaming of slumber.

There's a fire, somewhere. A spiral of smoke rises with a delicious aroma fantastic enough to reach the heights of Medoh. Someone making a late-night stew, under the dotted, broken sky.

If you could tear your eyes away from the nature down below, the navy blue canvas would still be there to greet you—a perfect night that cloaked any traces of the sun, as if time was always meant to be this way. Unchanging, and ever an elegant, unrivaled mix of blue, black, and grey.

But of course, unchanging was not everlasting. The perfect canvas was pierced by the frozen heights of Hebra, and flaming stars. Whole armies of them were scattered across the sky, as if the goddess had flicked a handful of embers at the night, burning through the blue and into an unknown.

"I heard that stars are actually holes into the heavens." Link finally said. "Like...They break through the sky, and at night you can look through them and see the great beyond." He leaned back, shifting himself into a more comfortable position on the rocky cliff.

The ghost beside him raised an eyebrow, wings tucked behind his back.

"Oh? And where exactly did you hear that?"

Silence.

The boy looks out to the distant mountains, wreathed in grey clouds with filtered moonlight. When the wind blows his golden hair just the right way, you could catch a glimpse of a familiar expression.

"...I'm not too sure."

Revali nodded, looking back into the night. He stood beside the hero, and let a quiet sigh escape him, the turquoise flames that circled around the Rito seemed to rise and fall with his chest. "Well. I cannot confirm or deny such a thing, but I imagine it's a decent enough fairy tale to entertain the fledglings."

Link scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips. "Really? They don't give you a big ghost book on how all of life works? What's the point of being dead if you don't know the answer to all the fancy questions?"

"I appear to have missed Hylia's educational spirit lecture. Perhaps my schedule was busy at the time. I do apologize."

"Don't apologize to me! You're the one who missed a once-in-a-afterlife-time opportunity."

"..."

"...Too soon?"

"No, it was just a horrible joke."

"Pfft. Well OK, Mr. 'Well I'll be plucked'"

"I don't think I'm going to accept criticism from someone who's sense of humor isn't even a year old."

"Aha...Fair enough."

A chuckle. A nod. A smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Silence.

The moon crawls further west. Winds start to die with conversation.

The ghost sighs again, but of course, no breath escapes him. Something itches in the back of his mind, and he looks up at Medoh.

Her phantom blue eyes pierce both mortal and incorporeal, yet there's a tenderness in the way her head tilts towards Revali—every so slightly so as not to wake the whole kingdom with the groan of gears. The gesture is wordlessly understood by her pilot, something about speaking the unspoken. He clicks his tongue.

I don't remember flipping a relationship advice switch in your control unit...

Medoh's lights glow brighter and dim, playfully.

The Rito shakes his head.

No, he thinks again. It's better this way.

The Champion looks out towards Hyrule Castle, Medoh's red laser aimed directly into the heart of the swirling malice. From this view, it’s almost beautiful. Like layered petals of a rose...

I cannot wait to burn it to the ground.

"Yeah..." Link replied. "Don't worry, Revali. It'll be different this time. I won't let you down, again."

The Rito blinked. "Ah. Did I...say that outloud?"

Link nodded, tilting his head to the side with a smile. "You always seem in such deep thought when looking at Medoh. Your face gets a lot more s—uh...I don't know... " He trailed off, making the wise decision to not finish the sentence. Afterall, he wanted to hang out for a little bit longer before Revali's glares punted him to the Akkalain Sea.

Nonetheless, Revali grimaced. Looking at him? Acknowledging him? Oh, there was nothing worse in the world than that...

Time really can change anything.

"Hmph. Well," Revali turned his head back towards Medoh, "With Windblight gone, it's nice to actually have conversations...As unconventional as they may be." He makes sure that his smile can only be seen by the sky.

"She's good company."

Link picks at loose pebbles, tossing them off the cliff and letting gravity take them to new destinations. His hands are already coated in a dusty beige dust.

"Well, if Medoh ever becomes a bore. My schedule's always open." He chuckles. "I'm certainly a different sort of company in comparison, so I should be able to spice up your d—!"

"No."

The iciness of his tone runs Link's spine cold. He dares to look up at the Champion.

It takes all of Revali's strength to continue staring at the stars.

"You should really stop coming here, Link. You have a job to do, and so do I. You gain nothing by returning here each night."

He pauses, his beak clenched just a bit too tightly.

"You did well, avenging me, but now...Your job here is done, and there is more work to do. The fact that you keep visiting each night while the world fades away is pathetic, honestly. You banter and quip as if you have all the time in the world, as if everything doesn't depend on your success. Quit acting childish."

Silence. It drowns out the whistling wind.

Revali looks at the holes in the sky.

"It'll be morning in a few, so get lost. I don't need you here."

The Rito can feel the hero's eyes tearing into him.

= = = = = = =

"Careful now! Can't have you return with half a head. Can I?" Revali loosed an arrow just above Link's head, striking true in a Bokoblin's right eye.

Link whips around just in time to see the monster drop dead, just a foot away from where the knight stood. He turns back and gives the Rito a thumbs up in gratitude.

"Eye think that solves that problem." Link groans and rolls his eyes, but Revali smirks at the grin he attempts to hide. "Ah...One of the best things about these occasions is that you're in no position to quip back at me with your hands full like that." Revali shoots him a wink. "Perhaps I'll interpret your silence as overwhelming awe for my verbal abilities."

The Rito bows left and right, playfully. "Thank you, thank you. It takes a great deal of practice, but perhaps you'll grace my level of skill one day."

Link signs as best he can with the Master Sword in his left grip.

"You're an asshole."

"Perhaps. But it's your fault for sticking around!"

"On your left..." He suddenly says.

There's no hesitation as Revali moves his head out of the way, letting Link swing his sword over his shoulder. A brilliant beam of blue light escapes the edge of his sword, the disc of energy making contact with a Bokoblin's neck, slicing it asunder mid-roar.

"Hmm. Now that's just breath taki—"

"Shut UP!" Link says, knocking an elbow into his ribs. He starts to sign again. "Let's keep heading east. We need to close this pincer quickly. I'd like to finish before lunch..."

The Rito scans the snow covered path, littered with monster guts and blood. Deep reds and purple stain the pristine, crisp morning. The sky is a deep green, pine trees covering the day, dressed in coats of white. The breeze blows the smell of rotting corpses and hickory his way.

"Alright. Let's get a move on. Don't need the Princesses yelling at us again."

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"

The boys both look up in time to see a large burst of water erupt from a nearby cliff. It cascades into a shimmering slide, that freezes as it flows. A bright red Zora flips through the air and descends on it, landing delicately in front of the two. She gives a warm smile that could melt the winter.

"Shall I assume you ran into some chuchu troubles, again?"

Revali scoffed. "That was one time!"

"Hehehe...chuchu go 'sluuurrrp...'"

"Plus, that incident was entirely a certain knight's fault. I've been nothing but incredibly efficient and productive, since then."

"And your tail feathers are all the better for it!"

Revali thwacked Link with his bow to shut him up. The knight rubbed the back of his head with an "Ow..." and shot a rude glare, but the Rito continued. "So where is the Princess?"

Mipha gestured uphill to where she had come from, her magical waterfall already beginning to melt away. "We finished cleaning up the other end of the Tabantha path. She's met up with Urbosa and Daruk by one of the bridges."

The Zora smiles as she looks between Revali and Link. "I volunteered to check on you two while the others headed back. Neither of you need help cleaning chuchu slime out of your hair, yes? I do have the pliers, this time."

Revali's rageful squawk was drowned out by Link's laughter.

Before the trio's banter could truly serenade with the sounds of the forest, Mipha was off to regroup with the others, and Link was soaring in the sky.

The sky was open and clear, not a speck of grey clouded the air. The sun was perched comfortably on the heights of Tabantha ridge, painting the horizon with strokes of orange, the distance blushing in the morning's presence.

The wind flipped Link's hair back and forth, so he finished tying the braid behind his neck, woven tightly with a single, Prussian blue feather. Its tip looked like someone had dipped it in the moon's pale glow.

Braid or no, the heights above Lake Totori were quite cold, and Link nuzzled himself further into Revali's soft feathers. If he were any softer, it wouldn't be out of the question to drown in him.

"You're distracting me." Revali craned his neck back, raising an eyebrow at his passenger. "Keep it together, back there."

The hero shrugged his shoulders. "It's cold."

"I told you to drink another elixir before I took off."

"I wasn't cold then! Besides," He flopped back into the Rito's soft down. "This is adequate protection." Link's words were slightly muffled as he spoke.

Revali sighed. "You're insufferable..."

Eying the destination down below, the Rito rolled his shoulders to get Link's attention. "Keep steady. We're almost there." He started to dip forward.

"And try not to go flying, I imagine it won't work out well for you."

Before Link could even process his words, his stomach started to drop. Falling fast, Revali arched nearly perpendicular to the ground, his bright blue scarf flapping behind him. The Hylian on his back could do nothing but grip onto his armour for dear life, clothes flapping wildly. His loose sleeves caught the wind, pushing them back to reveal pale gold letters, etched in the underside of his right forearm.

Leaving so soon?

The wind rushed by Link's ears, and the sky quickly faded from the cerulean glow of morning, to the snow laced air of the Hebra. What was once broad strokes of indistinct colors soon morphed into the intricate faults, flaws, and edges of towering grey mountain peaks. With the heavens stolen from them, and the frozen earth quickly coming to greet them, Revali quickly opened his wings to catch the air, swooping just above the ground and shooting forward towards the Flight Range.

Rows of cool safflina and wildberries whizzed by, the scent of smoked boar drawing closer and closer. Revali could practically feel Link's appetite from aura alone. Although, the fact that his grip on his back was starting to tighten didn't exactly keep it subtle, either.

"I left the stew going before we headed out for the mission. It should be perfect by now..." He tucked his wings into himself with a quick twirl as he shot through a narrow pass.

The cold updrafts of the Flight Range now biting into his face; the Rito let his wings expand with a few more great flaps, before landing gracefully on the railing of the wooden platform.

Link practically soared off Revali's back and bounded straight for the simmering pot.

"'Thank you, Revali, for giving me a ride across all of Tabantha without asking for so much as a rupee in return!' Oh, you're so welcome, my dear hero. It's always a pleasure to aid a flightless Hylian in need." He shook his head as he made his way into the hut.

"'Oh, but really Revali! The speed at which you travel, and the strength required to take on my loathsome person as you fly is truly something to admire. It's a miracle you took me with you at all.' Why, you are much too generous with your compliments, Link. I have half a mind to write this all down for—MmMph?!"

In a brilliant move of both telling Revali to shut the fuck up, while also sharing their meal, Link shoved a ladleful of delicious stew in the Rito's beak.

Warm, savoury stew trickled down his throat, banishing the cold from his body in mere moments. His tastebuds were nestled with flavours of nutmeg, tender meat, and the delicate heat of a perhaps a single, spicy pepper.

Link's expression was equal parts, "Will you shut up now?" and "So how's it taste?"

"Not too bad...The prime meat I procured is obviously the main event. But your seasoning skills are certainly something of note..." Revali made his way to one of the cabinets, as Link rolled his eyes.

The Rito set his bow beside the Master Sword, leaning it against the painted wood. His eyes lingered on it for a bit too long, before he scoffed and continued on his routine.

Quiver on the counter; bomb arrows wrapped properly; armour loosened and set aside; scarf—

The feathers on Revali's neck suddenly floofed up at Link's touch. But he didn't dare turn around and risk losing the sensation.

He carefully unfolded the fabric around Revali's neck, and drew it off his shoulder. He wrapped it around himself, and signed at the Rito, "Mine, now."

The Rito chuckled, before turning back around to look at the hero, now adorned with far too much blue. Blue tunic, blue scarf, and sapphire eyes—it wouldn't be out of the question to mistake him for the sky.

Link stretched out his hand, and traced the edges of Revali's face, eventually falling down his neck, and towards his shoulders. His fingers eventually hovered over some familiar words that wrapped down the left side of his neck and down his shoulder.

You should give yourself more credit.

They both did nothing but smile at each for a moment, leaning closer and succumbing to the moment. Revali could already feel Link's breath, and see the bits of snow still sticking to his (horribly) braided hair.

The Hylian saw something curious in the Rito's expression as he planted a kiss on the tip of his beak. Looking back up at his jade eyes, he couldn't help but smile wide. Revali cocked an eyebrow.

"Something to say?"

Quiet. The fire chuckled in the background.

Link finally leaned in and whispered to him.

"You smell like shit."

Revali scoffed loudly before shoving Link to the carpet, where he burst out laughing, the wind carrying it to the spirits above.

"Gods, you're insufferable. Why do I settle for you..."

Link unsuccessfully attempted to toss a pillow in his face in revenge—Revali catching it with ease.

"Beats me! Now come here, you stinky bird." He patted the space in front of the fire. No doubt he wanted to sit between his wings again

"Stew or no, I need you to keep me toasty."

In no time, Revali had sat down and wrapped himself around Link, resting his beak on his head.

A hole in the ceiling let sunlight trickle on them as they warmed up.

= = = = = = = 

Link finally sighed, the sound falling off into the void below.

"You-I can't-It was never..." He trails off, before chucking another pebble off the cliff, shaking his head.

"...I'm sorry. I know that you...That we're not really...friends or whatever...I don't mean to force you into anything uncomfortable. I owe you that much..." He looked up at the spirit, a determined look on his face.

"But, don't worry. Whatever mess I was before, whatever person you hated 100 years ago. They're gone, now. I promise I'm different. I promise I won't repeat whatever mistakes I made with you."

Revali just wants to die all over again.

"Well. That's good to hear. Perhaps there's hope for you yet, hero..." He walks forward, so he can't see his face, pointing a translucent feather far out east.

"I'd say your next objection should be Rudania. It's the closest. You can backtrack through whatever roads you've already trailed through getting here." The Rito then waved towards some glistening summits just a bit south. "Although, you said you've been to Kakariko and Hateno, yes? You could probably trek to Zora's Domain from there. The Zora will no doubt be a great asset to your further adventures—"

"Who was I closest to?"

Revali knew it was impossible to feel cold at this point, but he felt something shiver nonetheless.

"What do you mean?"

"Like...the pilots I mean. Was I...particularly close with any of them?"

"Well how should I know!" Revali snapped. He immediately regretted it seeing the look in Link's eyes. "I mean...sorry..."

Silence.

"...Mipha would be overjoyed to see you, I'm sure." He pointed again towards the cliffs surrounding Zora's Domain. "She had quite the heart...She'll make better company than I, I'm sure."

"Mhm...Alright." Link nodded to himself.

"But whatever you choose, don't try taking on Naboris, yet. Urbosa was one of the strongest warriors that even I've ever met. So I imagine that what awaits there is...deserving of more preparation."

The moon escaped from the clutches of a grey cloud, and the two of them were bathed in moonlight.

The knight's sword on his back glistens.

"I'll start making preparations tomorrow, and I'll finally be out of your hair." Link scratched the back of his head. "Although...I hope you don't mind if I come back every now and then to get pointers on using your Gale. I really only used it that one time when you gave it to me, and I've been a bit scared ever since, aha..."

Revali nodded. "That would be a more productive use of your time, yes."

Link finally stood, adjusting the strap of his sword around his shoulder.

"S-So...with Mipha. I actually heard from Kass that...uh he's—well you see, I figured you could confirm if she actually—"

"Stop." His response was as sudden as thunder. Link started sputtering again.

"S-Sorry. I know you just s—"

"Stop doing that. Stop trying to learn about the past, there's nothing for you there." Revali poked a feather at Link's head, which surprisingly made physical contact as he flinched away. "You've been given a gift, you understand? You have the luxury of being unburdened by the pains and memories of 100 years ago, while the rest of us have been stuck wallowing in what we once knew for over a century. Things that we can never attain now that we are dead." He glared, eyes sharp enough to stab into Link's flesh.

"It'd be an insult to the rest of us to throw away such a gift. So stop being ungrateful, and move on."

Silence.

Revali sighed, turning back towards Medoh. "Now get los—"

"You have no right to speak to me like that!"

The Rito whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know what it's like!" Link stomped a foot down. "You don't know what it's like, to have no attachments, no nothing to grasp onto!"

The Hylian shook his head, looking at his hands. "You're dead because of my failures, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I really am. But..." He looked the Rito, dead in the eyes. "But now I have nothing of value. Nothing to tell me what I'm worth, besides being a fighter. Besides defeating the Calamity. I don't know what kind of person I need to be," He waves a hand at Revali, "Or even what person I should try not to be. I can't...I don't want to just be nothing. Nothing but a sword and useless snippets of a dead past.

"So don't try and tell me there's nothing for me in the past. I need to know what I was, what I lost, and what I did wrong. N-Not just for me, but for everyone's sake! I want to truly know what this is all for, even if it hurts me..."

Link looked down, caressing his right wrist. "I want to know...what it was like to be complete...at the very least..."

Revali looked him up and down, something clawing up the inside of his chest, threatening to escape as dangerous words.

"...Let me see your arm."

"What—?"

"Hurry up, and just come."

Link cautiously stepped closer to Revali, extending his right arm towards him, like a handshake. But he roughly tugged him closer and folded the sleeve of his Rito garb away, exposing the skin to the crisp night air.

Pale gold letters adorned Link's inner arm, running from his wrist to his inner elbow.

Why did you think it was impossible?

The Rito nodded to himself. He had noted the first word being different when he had first reunited with Link, but it put him at ease—and completely shattered something—to have his suspicions confirmed.

"Do you know what this is, hero?"

"Yeah, it's a soulmark. This is probably what my soulmate 100 years ago said when they—"

"No." Revali let his arm fall, turning away. "It's a soulmark alright, but your soulmate is very much alive."

"Wh-What?!" Link started to walk up to Revali. "T-That's impossible! I-It's been over a hundred—"

"That's not the soulmark you had when I met you." Revali said simply. "You died. You were revived. You are adorned with a new mark, and are destined for someone new. Or someones. Or, maybe your soulmate is just yourself, it really depends..." He turned his head back.

Link was just staring at his arm. He bore no smile, but Revali could see the new fire in his eyes.

"It's like I said. It'd be an insult to go digging up the past. But I suppose I can't stop you..." Revali continued to make his way to Medoh. "You want something to fight for? Fight for that..."

The moon disappeared behind another cloud, and the glow of Medoh was all that bathed them. Link finally looked up, calling after the ghost in the mist.

"I...Thank you, Revali. But just so you know..." The Rito Champion turned, staring directly at the hero's determined expression.

"This doesn't change what I want. I still intend to know who I was."

There was quiet as they each looked at their ghosts.

Revali sighed, giving a sad nod.

"I know."

He disappeared in glowing blue flames, the embers falling towards the stars.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXX

February 11, 2278.

Ten fifteen in the evening.

I loaded my shotgun and watched the rear, gunfire bursting as the tin cans yelled. This was supposed to be a stealth operation. If only DeLoria hadn’t tripped on that one guard…

Truth be told, this was an absolutely fucking stupid plan. Taking away a comatose patient from the Citadel isn’t the brightest idea DeLoria and I came up with, but we had no other choice. Whatever secret about Percy that Dr. Li wanted us to protect, it seemed important. Seeing how Lyons figured out that she’s a living atomic weapon, I understand her.

DeLoria looks goddamn constipated as he helped me push the gurney with my partner in tow, secured with leather straps so she wouldn’t fly off. In the front, Fawkes soaks up most of the damage.

Of course we had a Plan B if the stealthy approach didn’t work. Thank fuck Fawkes is willing to cooperate, too. This wasn’t the first time we worked together to help Percy out of the tight spot. Then again, Percy got us out of our predicaments first. Knowing her, when she wakes up, she’ll scold us for risking ourselves for her, and for coming up with this awful plan.

Too bad. She can’t stop us now.

“Charon, what now? I only brought a pistol,” Butch yelps, narrowly missing fire.

“We’re gonna let Fawkes soak up the brunt of the gunfire, and we keep pressing forward and watch his six,” I grunted in return.

“Shit, this is a bad idea man! What if they hit Percy?”

“That’s why we’re fucking here to shield her! Are you scared of a little gunfire, DeLoria?!”

The younger man gulped and kept pushing. Our group kept pushing forward, already at the courtyard. How we managed to pull this off is beyond me. I expected to be dead right now.

“Hold your fire!”

Whoever issued the command is old, judging from their voice. Almost immediately, the tin cans stopped shooting.

“Father, what’s the meaning of this?” a more feminine voice called out. “They’re kidnapping a comatose patient! An honorary member of the Lyons Pride! I-”

“Sarah, please, enough. I’ll talk to them,” the Elder says, emerging from the crowd.

Another one of the tin cans interrupts. “Elder, they let in a Super Mutant in Citadel grounds! We-”

The old man gives the soldier a stern gaze, and he backs off. Coming face to face with Fawkes, the elder looks up, a neutral expression on his face.

“Please explain the meaning of this.”

DeLoria rushes over from the rear, facing the old man. “We’re getting our friend out of here! Clearly you assholes haven’t been doing her any good, so we’re transferring her to another hospital.”

“Another hospital?” the younger Lyons interrupts. “Listen kid, the Citadel is one of the few places on the Wasteland equipped to handle Zhou’s injuries.” Armor clinking, she marches towards the greaser, a livid expression on her face.

“What makes you think that whatever ‘hospital’ you’ll be transferring her to is equipped to help her, huh?”

A shouting match erupts between those two. Before things get ugly, Elder Lyons intervenes again, placing himself in front of the greaser and his daughter. Grumbling, I reach out and pull DeLoria back.

“I’ll take it from here,” I griped, and shoved past Sarah Lyons. I came face to face with the Elder, and I folded my arms.

“Before she left, Dr. Li told us she doesn’t think that whatever tests you’re running on Percy isn’t for her best interests. Percy trusted that doctor, so I trust her.”

Blondie scoffs, about to go off on us again, but she stops in her tracks, looking at something, or someone, behind us.

“Then, why don’t you ask Zhou herself, if she wants to stay here or not?”

My eyes widen, and I turn around and see Percy, sitting up on the bed, her restraints loose. I checked again, and no, they weren’t loosened. They were pulled away from the bed, and she’s gripping the leather straps.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Percy,” I mumble, taking slow, tentative steps towards her.

She’s looking blankly ahead, eyes glassy. No. Oh no.

What the fuck is happening?

Rough and calloused, my fingers brush against her arm, and her eyes flick towards me. “Percy? Are you there?”

Letting go of the leather strap, her small hand grips mine, and she exhales sharply, panic rousing within her. Through her hospital gown, I see a sickly green glow pulsing below her throat, at her chest.

Barreling her way through, Sarah Lyons points a minigun at my partner, ready to fire.

“Everyone, get back! She’s going to blow!”

“No!” I screamed at her, and instinct kicking in, I scoop Percy’s frail body in my arms and started to run to the exit.

“Move, fucking move aside!”

My lungs are burning as I run through the Citadel gates, Percy still pressed to my chest, unnaturally warm to the touch. Fawkes is following closely behind, footsteps pounding.

Away from the people, I gently laid Percy to the ground, the green glow emanating from her searing now, and covered her body with mine. If I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go holding her.

Screwing my eyes shut, I wait for the inevitable.

Instead, I was pulled aside, and Fawkes crouches over Percy’s body, careful not to crush her.

A bright, blinding light flashes from Percy’s body, and Fawkes covers her completely. Her body erupts, heat and energy bursting outwards, and Fawkes just absorbed all that. I watched the explosion barely made a dent on the mutant’s thick skin, and the mushroom cloud that billows towards the dark sky.

He pulls back, and Percy lies there, hospital gown in tatters.

I rushed to her side, checking for breathing, and felt my heart drop as I heard none.

“We need a medic, get a medic!” I snarl at the bystanders who witnessed the entire ordeal. After the initial shock has worn off, DeLoria weaves through the crowd and runs towards us, kneeling beside Percy.

“Shit man, shit! She’s not breathing, she needs CPR, oh my fucking God I don’t remember how to do it,” he babbles, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.

Gnashing my teeth, I try to remember whatever first aid I learned from observing Percy in the past. I pulled away Percy’s hospital gown, and with my palms together, I pressed between her nipples, pumping and hearing her ribs crack underneath her skin.

I tilt her head, pinch her nose, press my ruined lips against hers, and blow. Twice.

Then, I go back into giving her chest compressions, and I look over my shoulder. I must’ve looked so feral at that moment.

“Where the fuck’s that medic?!”

I turned back to my partner, and after another set of compressions, I breathed into her again.

“Percy, remember what you told me when you got captured by the Enclave, huh?!” I rasped, gritting my teeth.

“Well, it’s your goddamn turn to listen to me now!”

January 14, 2278.

Fingers clacking on the keyboard, Percy hacked away at the terminal. Once given access, she terminates the hostile creatures in the other holding cells. I wince as I watch one particularly screwed up creature burst into flame, high pitched, inhuman squeals coming out of its… mouth?

Jesus Christ. I don’t want to think about it, ugh.

Then, Percy selects another command in the console, and the doors hiss open.

My partner turned around, footsteps urgent, and I followed her closely behind. Fawkes emerges from his cell, carefully, like an animal let loose from a trap, and he turns to us, towering us both.

“Thank you,” he boomed, and though his voice sounded rough, I felt his gratitude for Percy. “As promised, I will retrieve the GECK for you. This is a debt I am most happy to pay, my friends. Follow me!”

Percy smiles and nods, and she turns to me, looking over her shoulder with a pleased expression.

“See Charon? He isn’t bad at all,” she starts, and I only grumble in response. Percy senses the apprehension that lingered in me, and chuckles.

“To be frank Charon, the first time I met you in Underworld, I might have felt the same thing,” she says, and I look down with a questioning look.

“Dad told me to judge other people by what they looked like, but even then, I felt kind of uneasy around you. Then I heard you beat up Patchwork, and I was really angry for a while.”

I gulped. I never thought about what she thinks of me during that time. It was an entirely different reality back then; her thoughts, or anyone else’s, didn’t matter. Only Ahzrukhal’s did.

“But what Tulip said to me about you being Ahzrukhal’s employee really challenged my perspective. Getting back at you would only end in me getting hurt. You were at Ahzrukhal’s mercy as much as Patchwork was.”

“So is that why you bought my contract back then? You felt sorry?”

“No. I felt your frustration at being powerless. So, I bought your contract to create an opportunity to seize that back. Of course it wasn’t easy after that,” Percy chuckles sheepishly, and I sigh, remembering all the times I struggled with the contract’s hold over me.

But it’s gone, right?

No sense in dwelling over that.

“So, where were you going with this, Percy?”

“Give Fawkes a chance.”

I stop in my tracks, feeling guilty as hell. All this time, all I thought about is Percy, and myself. Meanwhile, she tries to consider everyone around her.

“Fine, Angel, I will.”

I felt a light jab on my ribs; Percy elbowed it playfully. “Whatever, big guy.”

“I don’t think that nickname suits me anymore, Percy. We’ve got a bigger guy now,” I tease her, pointing at Fawkes, who’s taking our conversation in stride as he pummeled a dumb mutie in our way.

“Nah. Fawkes doesn’t need a nickname anymore.  You’re my big guy,” Percy teases back.

Is this flirting? Is Percy flirting with me? Goddammit. If I had more skin left on my cheeks, I would have blushed.

I almost ran into Fawkes when he stopped walking. I look to the right, and see the sickly green glow of the irradiated room that the GECK is in.

“Alright. You better not enter, human. This radiation is lethal to you. Stay here, and I will fulfill my end of the bargain,” he grunts, and my partner nods at him.

“Thank you, Fawkes.”

“No. Thank you, human.”

He turns around, and enters the room. On her tiptoes, Percy watches him inside through the window, while I keep watch, guarding her six just in case. Soon after, Fawkes returns carrying a briefcase.

That’s the GECK? What the hell?

“You got it!” Percy exclaims, taking the briefcase off of the super mutant’s hands gingerly. “Again, thank you so much Fawkes. You wouldn’t believe how important this is to us.”

“It’s my pleasure, Percy. Now, I believe this is farewell.”

Farewell?

I turn to Percy and see her somber expression. Good grief, don’t tell me she’s already getting attached to him. This happened with the Big Town kids too.

“Farewell? Fawkes, why don’t you come with us?”

Okay. Okay, I am definitely accepting that Fawkes indeed is good and that I shouldn’t judge him because of him being a super mutant, or metahuman, but this? Had Percy gone mad? Travelling with him could get us killed!

Before I can open my mouth and say something that might possibly anger her, Fawkes already took care of the problem.

“Sorry, I’m afraid a Super Mutant wouldn’t be welcome in the places you frequent.”

“But you said it yourself, you’re a metahuman! You’re different from the other mutants we-”

“All I would do is cause you undue attention and probably get you killed,” Fawkes interrupts, a tinge of sorrow in his grating voice.

“I- you’re right,” Percy sighs, relenting.

“Take care of yourself, friend.”

And with that, we parted ways.

I can tell Percy is sad by the slump in her shoulders. As much as it pains me to see her like this, it’s for the better. The Brotherhood can barely tolerate my presence. Fawkes? They’d shoot him on sight. It’s definitely for his safety too.

“Do you think we’ll see him again, Charon?”

“I don’t think we’ll see him anytime soon.”

“I’m worried.”

“Worry about yourself, angel. Have you seen him? He pummeled that other mutie no problem, like a kid throwing a teddy bear.”

“I guess you’re right. I- Charon, get down.”

Out of instinct, I listen to her. Percy pulls up her PipBoy, and a worried expression is etched on her features. “So many red dots… Charon, I think we’re about to encounter a huge group of muties.”

“Should we go back and get Fawkes?”

Gripping her rifle, she checks the magazine, then she pats at the ammo pouches on her waist. I proceed to check my own ammunition too. Just two boxes of shotgun shells left, and a grenade; the same grenade Percy gave me when she first hired me. I haven’t used it yet, after all these months.

We’re running low on ammo.

“No, no. Stay low. We’ll sneak out of here,” Percy tells me, and she crouches low, the helmet of her stealth suit protracting over her face, then her suit’s stealth mechanism activates. All I can see is a faint silver-white outline.

“I’ll scout ahead. If I raise a fist, move to my location.”

I nod, and she proceeds.

Cautiously, Percy moves through the hall. My grip on my shotgun remains steady, watching her inch slowly but surely to the open area ahead.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

A pulse grenade drops from the ceiling.

It felt like time slowed all around us. Percy sees the grenade landing near her foot, and turns around, movement abrupt, her helmet retracting from her head and revealing her panicked gaze. Her eyes are wide in terror, lips trembling as she yelled at me.

“Charon!”

My feet are ready to take me to her, but what she screamed before the grenade fried her suit’s systems and took her down made me freeze in my spot.

“I order you to live!”

The pulse grenade burst, and so did the walls of the vault. The rubble flew at Percy, who was falling backwards, her helmet thumping against the metal flooring as she hit the ground. Losing consciousness, the GECK escapes her grasp, and skitters a few feet away from her.

From the newly formed hole in the wall, a man emerges. Colonel Autumn. I thought that asshole was dead!

The Enclave is here.

Heart in my throat, I didn’t know what to do. At that moment, I forgot the contract was gone. I turned around, and obeyed, fleeing from the scene with Percy’s words echoing in my head.

“Charon! I order you to live!”

“I order you to live!”

“Live!”

Live.

[shnuggletea]

Chapter Two is now LIVE!

I know it’s been a while so head here for a refresher if you need it! Otherwise, keep reading or go to Fanfiction or AO3 for the update!

Tags below the cut!

Chapter Two

“Folks are usually about as happy as they make their minds up to be.” ― Abraham Lincoln

“It’s not… terrible.”

Mamoru watched his sister inspect his new home. He knew what she saw; it was vastly smaller than his old place. But he didn’t own his last home and had overstayed his welcome. One year to morn and two more to get his head in the game was all he’d been allowed. Mamoru was thankful for that much, but he didn’t kid himself; they only got to stay that long for Toru.

“Oh, by all means, don’t hold back.”

Rei grimaced at him then turned back to her ‘inspection’. “Anything is an improvement in my books.”

Shaking his head, Mamoru moved towards their door, grabbing his backpack as he did. “Are you done? I have to get to work.”

A sigh and a groan, and Rei moved towards the door. Ahead of him, she walked her red heels and smart suit out his threshold, allowing him to lock up behind them. Their black hair was the only thing the brother-sister pair had in common. Rei’s violet eyes were similar to Mamoru’s dark blue but not a match. Their appearances weren’t aligned either; Rei’s business suit to his slacks and polo made them stick out when together. Mamoru didn’t care, never more proud of his baby sister. He cracked a smile her way as she climbed into her tiny, environmentally friendly car.

“Give them hell, sis.”

Rei rolled her eyes while her cheeks darkened. If he knew she wouldn’t kill him for it, Mamoru would have ruffled her hair affectionately. “Whatever.”

She drove off as he wandered to his bike. There were two reasons he had picked these apartments. One close to Toru’s school and Mamoru didn’t dare uproot him from the only thing Toru had stable in his life. And two, it was close to his work. It was the perfect location, even if the neighborhood was run down. It was just old, nothing really wrong with it. Any question of the age of the place was answered by the trio of older women passing him by as he got the lock off his bike. They spoke animatedly but calmly. That changed as they got closer, giving him bright smiles. Mamoru gave them a short wave before buckling his helmet in place.

His attention shot from the group of elders to the gate as it swung open, his new neighbor rushing out. Usagi paused in her hurry to hold the gate open for the women, who all looked at her for seconds at a time as they passed. Mamoru looked at her too; an innocent-looking sundress on that (upon deeper inspection) wasn’t so innocent. It stopped mid-thigh after loosening at her hips. The rest was tight, her ribs nearly showing as well ample swells on her chest. Mamoru was thankful for the small sweater she wore on top. It was loose and covered her heart-shaped ass, which also meant it fell off her small shoulders. Something it did twice while holding the gate.

Usagi pulled the sweater back in place both times while not taking her smile off the women who passed her with frowns. “Good morning, ladies.”

They said nothing, but it didn’t bother Usagi, her smile remaining and blinding him. Mamoru used it to excuse why he was staring, Usagi dropping the gate long ago and walking before him. Her arms were full with a large folder and a big pink bento box. And yet, she still lifted her bright ceruleans to him and blinded him again.

“Good morning, Mamoru-san.”

He was just about to wave back when Usagi tripped, her flip-flop catching the sidewalk and sending her items flying. Still in the stupor (she put him in), Usagi was already on her knees cleaning up when he made it to her side. “Let me help you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Usagi made it sound like the first time someone had ever offered. “I’m so late!”

He chuckled at her uncontrollably. Mamoru found Usagi adorable. “Can I give you a lift?”

Lifting her face to his, Mamoru struggled to breathe as his beautiful neighbor raised a confused brow at him. “I don’t think… I’m sure I would only make that… awkward for you?”

Usagi lifted her finger, pointing at his head. Mamoru had forgotten; not only did he not have a car, but he had on his stupid helmet the entire time. “Good one, Chiba, real smooth.” It was a good thing he wasn’t interested in women at all anymore. Otherwise, he would have been really embarrassed. Still, Usagi was an attractive woman; it was embarrassing because she was so pretty. It was high school all over again, the popular girl talking to him just so she could talk him into doing her homework for him.

Mamoru got the feeling Usagi would just ask for help and not be so cruel. There wasn’t a malicious bone in her body. He just knew it.

He would never be fast enough to erase the image of him crouching with his helmet on, but he still swiped it off. Then turned the attention back to their task, getting Usagi’s things off the ground. The folder -or portfolio- had spilled out, and Mamoru found himself staring. “You did all of these?”

Usagi had been rushing, but with his ask, she slowed and started showing instead of shoving. “Yeah, you like them?”

She had the portfolio open wide, thumbing through her sketches and a few watercolors. Most were too abstract for Mamoru. But the colors were nice. “I do. They’re… pretty.”

Usagi giggled, making his palms sweat, and returned to putting the art away. “Thank you. I hope my agent feels the same.”

“Is that where you’re heading?”

She nodded, “yep. Got to discuss my next show.”

“Show?”

“That’s one-way artists get money. Sell our art and all that. So I mostly stick my stuff in coffee houses or galleries willing to host my work.” Usagi paused and looked at him, making his heartbeat in his throat at the excitement glowing on her face. “But now, I’m going to be featured very own gallery showing!”

Usagi was clearly proud and excited about this, collecting her things with gusto and getting to her feet. Mamoru got to his, her extremely heavy bento in his grip. “That’s great. Congratulations. You deserve it.”

She giggled again, soft and sweet. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know. But your work shows that you do. And the way you speak about it…” he paused, and Usagi looked like she was holding her breath, “I can tell, you’ve worked hard for it.”

A grin twisted on her lips, pink and pouty pillows. “You must be really good with people, reading me like that.”

“No. I’m terrible with people.” Mamoru said honestly with a sigh. “But you’re easy to read.”

Leaning in, Usagi stole Mamoru’s breath yet again. “You’re the first to tell me that. No need to be shy; it’s a good thing to get along easily with others!”

He really wasn’t though, Mamoru was terrible with people. Sure, he was good at being polite and respectful. But when it came to knowing someone, he’d only been successful once. And she’d been patient and understanding enough for them to make it work. Serenity had been the first and only person to understand him. And she was still the only one, the woman before him missing the mark completely when it came to who he was. Mamoru didn’t fault Usagi; they were still new to one another. But, given time, she would see he was impossible to get along with. Everyone did save for the small handful that tolerated him.

“Oh CRAP, I have to go!” The whirlwind before him tipped up on her toes and grabbed his shoulder. “Thank you so much for your help, Mamoru-san.”

Usagi kissed him so fast and hard; he didn’t fully understand what happened until she was out of sight. Grabbing his cheek, he could feel the wetness from her mouth, cooling in the breeze and making the mark stand out more. That was the first kiss he’d had from a woman in three years, and Mamoru had missed it? Usagi had an amazing ability to put people in a haze, it would seem. Or it was just him and his lame ass-ness. Mamoru wouldn’t be surprised if it were a combination of the two, stumbling back to his bike then stumbling back for the helmet he left on the pavement.

Now, he was late too.

Even being late, it had been a good day. Her agent loved everything Usagi had so far for her show. And she was ahead of schedule! Her show was two months away, and Usagi had over half her pieces finished and the rest sketched out! It was her excitement, really; Usagi was beyond ready to showcase herself like she’d always dreamed.

That said, she still loved the coffee shops that supported her, so even with her full bento, Usagi made sure to stop and support them right back.

Her order decided on, Usagi stood in line and let her mind ideally slip to that morning. Primarily to her new neighbor. Mamoru-san had a boyish quality to him that made her heart skip. While his handsome face and large hands made her heart race. Mamoru-san had been so kind to her, the first since she’d moved in at that complex, and it caused Usagi’s mind to run with her heart. If he was divorced, then his ex-wife was a fool. He was handsome, sweet, and all-around adorable, coming to help her with his bike helmet still on. She giggled to herself, looking crazy to anyone paying attention, but she never cared about that.

If Mamoru-san took a bike to work, then he was both environmentally conscious and worked nearby. Of course, that was probably a stretch, but given the hour he left for work, Usagi had to assume he didn’t have far to go. It was why Usagi left at the hour she did—even though she was always still late.

Now she was wracking her brain of what was near that Mamoru-san would work at? Or maybe he owned his own business? There were still so many possibilities, and Usagi spent the rest of her walk to her studio imaging him doing all of them.

And again later, when she walked home, images of the gorgeous Mamoru in every uniform and position imaginable. Usagi’s key in the door, she giggled as the image of Mamoru-san in an apron as a baker came into her head. Not that a male baker was funny; she (for some reason) pictured him in a heart-shaped one with “kiss the cook” printed on it but quickly shook it from her thoughts.

That was due, in large part, to the scream that came from the apartment next door.

Usagi raced, getting to the door just as it swung open. She had to jump back to keep from getting flattened by it as a woman barreled out. “I QUIT!!!” She screamed as she stomped away. Usagi noticed the woman had something purple dripping down her back and a few odd things stuck in her hair.

Slowly, Usagi turned back to the opened door, finding a sheepish-looking Toru covered in purple. He wore a smirk that looked frozen on his face. “I didn’t think that would work so well….”

“What did you do?!” Usagi asked in a panic, wondering what was now all over the young boy.

“I was just…making her dinner.”

Usagi scoffed, entering the home without the offer and dropping her things in the genkan. She pushed her shoes off her feet before carefully stepping up to Toru. “And just what, exactly, were you cooking? Purple slim?!”

His response was to grin, and she turned him around, “shower. Now.”

Toru didn’t fight her, and Usagi surveyed the damage in the kitchen. There was purple slime all over the stove and on the floor. “Oh boy.”

When Mamoru returned home from his long and exhausting day of work, he expected an exhausted greeting from the nanny—as well as some fussing from Toru about being too old for a babysitter or some other nonsense. He hoped there were some leftovers from their dinner, too; he was starving. But, instead, the scene was far from what he’d imagined.

His dining room was covered with large sheets of paper, notebooks, and pencils, and pens. No food. And two bodies were fast asleep on his couch; neither one the nanny.

Usagi still wore the dress she’d left in that morning. Which meant it had ridden up in her sleep, Toru resting in her lap didn’t help. The tv was blaring, flashing bright lights and giving Mamoru a headache instantly. Just where the hell was the nanny?!

Picking Toru off the couch and Usagi caused her to wake up as if she wasn’t as deeply asleep as he’d thought. Her hands reached out to grab Toru as if she thought the boy was rolling off her lap to the floor. It had her wide, bright ceruleans millimeters from Mamoru’s dark blues. He already had Toru in his grip, meaning he could lift him and himself away from the woman crowding his living room. But Mamoru couldn’t breathe, let alone move.

Usagi blinked away the rest of her sleep, and Mamoru could free himself from the awkward position and situation. He got Toru into his bed as quickly and gently as he could, afraid Usagi would run while he was gone. But when he returned, she was slowly packing up the mess in his dining room.

He took long steps to get to her swiftly and silently. “What are you doing here?”

Mamoru bit his tongue, his question coming out harsh, but he was so confused and upset; where the hell was his nanny??!!

Usagi looked at him over her shoulder with a grin that nearly had him swallowing his tongue instead. “Not happy to see me, Mamoru-san?” He shuddered, trying to understand and come up with a decent response. Usagi giggled, making his bumbling worse. “Relax, I’m picking with you. Although, you could be a little happier to see me. After all, I did save you some Soba in the fridge.”

It took him the entire time Usagi talked, but Mamoru got his foot out of his mouth enough to speak. “Forgive me, thank you. I’m just…confused and upset.”

“I understand,” she zipped up her portfolio and spun to face him, “I would be upset to find a stranger alone with my kid too. But I promise I’m a good babysitter. I’m responsible enough to do that much.”

“That’s not what I…” he was doing it already, and soon Usagi would hate him, “I hired someone to look after Toru. That’s who I expected to be here.”

Usagi’s smile didn’t falter, not once since his rude manner began. “I think she quit. I did the best I could with your kitchen, by the way.”

“My kitchen?”

Finally, Usagi told him the whole story. The purple slim, the guilty party, and the nanny leaving in a huff. “Great. I’m sure that’s a lawsuit in my future.”

Usagi laughed and shook her head, “he’s a kid. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Anyway, I ordered out since I can’t top purple slim for dinner.”

“I’m not much better,” Mamoru admitted, feeling like sharing for some reason, “Toru’s mom was the one who cooked.”

Usagi’s smile faltered for a second, turning towards the door as if not wanting him to see it. “I can’t make much. A few things here and there for survival.”

Speaking of survival…. “I suppose I better call an agency.”

But it was too late for that, nearly nine now. They wouldn’t be open, and he doubted they’d have someone available in time. Mamoru was screwed.

“What time does Toru come home from school?”

“Huh?”

Mamoru had been lost in a sea of worry and thoughts, trying to figure out just what the hell he was going to do with his son tomorrow. Usagi was smiling her blinding smile at him again, gumming up his thoughts more but in a different manner than before. “What time does Toru come home from school? I can watch him until you get a new babysitter. Unless you don’t trust me?”

Usagi looked close to tears at the thought, and Mamoru felt nothing but trust towards her. And that was more than just the fact that she had saved his ass today. “It’s not that I don’t trust; I don’t want to put you out….”

She waved him off. “I’m ahead on my work, and Toru’s a good kid. He won’t be a problem, and I can always keep him here or at my place. So it’s not inconvenient.”

“He can be a handful.”

“All kids are. Look, I just want to help out, but if you’re not comfortable….”

“No, I am! I’m perfectly comfortable with you, Usagi.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she dropped her face to the floor of the genkan they both stood in. Not before Mamoru caught it, the shade adorable on her face. “I didn’t thank you, did I?” She shook her head slowly, still not looking at him. “Thank you, Usagi-chan. I’m in your debt.”

Mamoru resisted the urge to dip down and peek at her face. Somehow, he knew she was bright red currently, and it made his heart swell. “You’re…too kind, Mamoru-san.”

Usagi was the first ever to call him that, but he liked it. It made his skin tingle and beg for more. “You’re the one that’s kind, Usagi-chan.” She shuffled her feet then stuffed them into her shoes, eyes still glued to the floor. Mamoru quickly stepped around her to pull his door open for her, and Usagi glided past. He watched her go to her door and waited until she had it unlocked before considering anything other than watching her. “Toru’s home around four.”

At last, she looked up and back at him, giving him the perfect view of her stained cheeks. They were bright pink, hinging on red. It had Mamoru close to buckling to the floor, which would have been embarrassing, using his door frame to hold him instead. Usagi grinned and gave him a nod before disappearing. Mamoru collected himself enough to shut his door, pressing against it heavily. He felt like he’d been on the run, breathless and heart raging. What the hell was wrong with him? He never felt like this around Serenity; he’d been calm and composed their entire relationship. She liked his stability, and he liked her understanding. He’d loved his wife; friends turned to lovers to married. But, there was no doubt, Mamoru respected and loved Serenity.

So, what the hell was this feeling he had for Usagi?!

tags:

@knowall7k​ @kagometaishostory @master-ray5 @sailorlolo @jayangel10 @zelink-inukag @malditamigs @liz8080 @infamousblueskies @jjwalla12 @gofoulpuppycollector @carbidopa-lynseydopa @witheykd @yeagro @preciouslyours @angelarin @pia-bartolini @blairex @reispinkoveralls @billyjbradshaw @littlemissinukag @usako98 @sloeaction @mamabearcat @wolverine1092 @dayfreshie-blog @windkissedsakura @kitsune-nomajo, @neutrons-inukag @parkdangbee @fawn-eyed-girl @yukinon-writes @bluejay785 @lavendertwilight89 @mouserme​ @thirrinwildcat

[novaviis]

sent by @mengjue for the Writer Ask Meme💖

💻- three works of yours that are must reads

I won't cop out and say all of Watercolour lol, but I do want to spread some love to my other fics. So if I have to pick three;

Light Me A Lantern - (Inuyasha, InuKag) my first big fic project, it took me seven years to finish so it's near and dear to my heart.

Un Giorno Per Noi - (Hetalia, GerIta) this was my dream fic. I poured so much of my heart into this one and held nothing back. Of all my fics, it's the one I actually go back and read every Christmas.

Fireworks In July - (Young Justice, BirdFlash) A must read in getting into Watercolour! I get the impression some people look at the beast of it and feel intimidated lol, but this is the one to read to get into it!

🎲- your favorite chapter/part from a multiparty series

Aaaahhh off the top of my head I'm gonna had to say chapter two of (Dis)Aster Ever After because I was pretty proud of my description of a panic attack.

☺️- a line that made you feel a fluffy happiness

This is going to sound so weird but off the top of my head it's "Get your elbow outta my ribs, and I'll reconsider" from Midnight. Just that little interaction and the playfulness had my giggling as I typed.

💍- your most underrated story

Okay, okay, it may be in part because it's not finished but Der Unsterbliche Preis! When I do finish it I feel like it's going to be one of my greatest.

☕️- favorite passage

From Terminal Velocity

Barry wasn’t an option. Not now. Dick wasn’t either, he’d know something was up, start asking questions, get too close to exposing the raw nerve of the truth. Going back to the Cave would only lead to more questions too. Seized up in the moment, Wally just stood there. This was his neighbourhood. A left and two rights would lead him to his High School. Down the street, a mother was holding her toddler’s hand as the kid waddled through the water in bright orange rain boots, splashing in each puddle with peels of laughter. An advert for town council elections had been defaced in black sharpie scrawled across the face of a blonde man with a plastic smile. A group of kids a grade below him, faces he knew but names he couldn’t place, stood on the corner under the shelter of a cafe awning. A billboard down the street above a Buffalo Wild Wings proclaimed WARNING: GOD IS HERE which he supposed could be true if God was at Buffalo Wild Wings.

Objectively, he wasn’t alone. Alone just wasn’t the right word. Isolated maybe. Wally just felt a strange disconnect from the world around him, as if he was standing just two feet away from himself. Reality-adjacent. All the details were there, he was taking it all in, but none of it seemed touchable. Just an inch out of reach.

[jiikyu]

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love. Though be warned for they are also poisonous. Chapter IV. Sitting in the back of a police car was not how you anticipated your night ending — And certainly not with Mirios arms wrapped around you all the while. You’re not sure how you got here. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ All characters are 18+ Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ) Y/N = Your Name F/N = Your Full Name E/C = Eye Color H/C = Hair Color

Warnings: Yandere / Unhealthy Behavior / Delusions / Angst / Possessiveness / Violence and uh Fluff? First Chapter Here❦ Previous Chapter Here❦ Next Chapter Here ❦

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ “Oh hey!” Mirios leans his arm against the doors frame. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise.” “Hey, do you wanna come to Nabezos with me?” Your question takes him by surprise and he feels his arm slipping. It’s raining. “Sure, let me grab my jacket.” ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ The little droplets from above mean the sidewalks are clear of people, it’s not often you practically get the city all to yourself. When Mirio agreed to come with you to the popular restaurant off campus grounds, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. It wasn’t like you to swing by unexpectedly, at least not without some form of prior acknowledgement. Like a text. What’s even stranger was that you wanted to go to Nabezos, in the rain. Maybe it’s nothing to be get riled up over... The conversation flows in it’s usual lighthearted manor with you both throwing in the occasional jab. It’s normal. But if that’s truly the case then — Why won’t his heart stop hammering violently against his ribs? Somethings not right. He just knows it. Mirios pace starts to slow to a crawl, and little by little it all together stops. And you had been so close to making it to Nabezos, maybe two blocks down the sidewalk? Suddenly his appetite is gone. When there’s no respond to your corny joke do you turn to see the blond fallen behind. Everything about it feels so very wrong. Standing like motionless his yellow umbrella rests loosely in his grasp, shoulders slouching forward. But — You catch sight of something that freezes the blood in your veins. Tears threaten to spill from those blue pools. How had this happened? Only a few seconds ago were you chatting like normal. This proves all of your fears and suspicions, that there is something deep troubling Mirio. That’s why you were doing this right? You were going to do your best to gently coax out whatever was bothering him. Had you already messed up? The gap made between you wasn’t large by any means but by gods do you close it fast. Abandoning your umbrella to ground below as shoes splash against the wet pavement, now your standing before him in the rain. “Wait Mirio what’s happening? Why are you crying?” “Y/N...” His voice has been reduced to a rasp whisper, the usual optimism drained and you can see the bottom of the well. “Are you leaving?” Huh? The question confuses you even further. That cannot be the root of the problem, a small idle conversation between you and your friend could not have been the cause of this. “What? Of course not!” As much as you want to stay in Musutafu — Your words are not quite the full truth, are they? “Well I... I don’t actually know yet.” Do not make promises you cannot keep. The way he kneads his lip with his teeth, suffocating any sound from escaping, it does nothing but further shatter your heart into tiny fragments. If this continues you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to put the pieces back together. You’re about to speak again when the blond does the unexpected. Taking a deep breath he exhales, then the corners of his mouth upturn. It is nowhere near as radiant as his signature smile, and you know it’s not real. But now it’s his turn to close the gap. Taking the step forward Mirio dips the yellow umbrella so it no longer hangs over his head but yours. The thrumming of his heart drums against his ears, he’s sure you hear it too. “Y/N, what if I told you I don’t want you to go?” Oh. Wait? Does that mean? Oh. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “I —“ The soft pitter-patter of raindrops against the umbrellas canvas matches your own heartbeat. Fast and light, like suddenly you’re floating. You watch the collar of his gray gym shirt start to darken with moisture and droplets catching in that sunshine soaked hair. You swallow down your shame because — You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. “I would say, I feel the same.” You’ve never seen someone visibly light up the way Mirio does when those words leave your lips. The very words he oh so desperately needed to hear. Was that all it really took? No, he must be dreaming. “Really?” The single word is laced with so much hope it’s palpable, it’s followed by a sniffle as he brings his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “Of course idiot!” Your own eyes start to blur and you blink them away before it’s too late. “Now stop it, you’re gonna make me cry!” Your fingers grab a hold of the umbrellas metal handle, just above Mirios hand. You push it towards him, so it’s no longer covering only you. “There, now we can both stand under it.” Sure, both of you have a shoulder that’s going to get absolutely drenched, but do you care? No. Mirios eyes go big when you do this and you swear you see literal stars dancing in those pools of blue. You’re so blissfully unaware that everything you’re doing only furthers you both down this spiral. He’s staring at you like you’re his entire world. And he wouldn’t change a single thing about you, for anything. “Aw you’re such a softy Y/N.” “Wha — You were crying first! You started it.” It’s not fair. He really does have the most contagious smile you’ve ever seen. Hand in hand you and Mirio continue to make your way to Nabezos, your own umbrella is left forgotten to the rain. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ Dinner had gone so well that you’re left giddy and boy, does it show, your smile never once falters. Not even when the scent of cigarettes and alcohol starts to overflow your senses. Currently you’re leaning against the outside of Nabezos, the buildings bricks now having imprinted into your back. Awning overhang keeps you dry from the rain while your eyes stay trained to the bright screen of your phone. Sun having started its descent the color slowly begins to fade from the sky. But you’re not worried, campus is only a few blocks away.

And you have Mirio.

Now you’re just wait on him, who, being the forgetful man he is forgot his wallet at the table you had eaten at. Never in a million years would you believe someone as breathtaking as Mirio would return your feelings. 

Your happiness leaves you blind to the world.

“Hey are you d-deaf or do you just think it’s cute to ignore someone talking to you?”

Huh? Only when you look up from your phone do you realize there’s a man, who you don’t recognize, staring directly at you. Your mouth is suddenly dry. The stench of booze and smoke is so strong your nose is set ablaze. You can’t help but take shallow breaths. When had he gotten so close? Were you really that oblivious to your surroundings? Your pulse is racing but you don’t move, maybe if you continue to ignore him he’ll leave you be. What a stupid idea. Suddenly your wrist is grabbed, phone slipping from your grasp and it falls to the pavement. And now you’re trying desperately to yank yourself from of his grasp. But his fingers have an iron clad grasp around your limb. “What sort of game are you trying to play?” He’s shouting at you and you have no idea what he’s going on about, you just want to get as far away from him as possible. Your eyes barely catch the flash of yellow that appears over the drunks shoulder and before you know it he’s no longer holding onto your wrist — Or rather he was flung off you by an impact to the gut. The stranger lets out a cry as his back slams against the hard concrete below. You listen to him cough and sputter for air, but you don’t look — Your eyes stay glued to your savior. Mirio. Besides the loud grunting coming from the man who just got his guts rearranged, it’s eerily silent. You cannot see the blonds face, so you can only guess what expression he wears... But something feels off and that scares you. You finally tear your eyes away from Mirio when you hear the other stand. The stranger regained his footing but why isn’t he running away? Isn’t it enough? Mirio hasn’t moved an inch since landing the first strike, standing between you and the man. A shield. Neither move for a while, just staring each other down and you can see the sweat beading down the strangers face. You never would have expected Mirio to be the one to break the stalemate. Basically just straight up breaking into full sprint towards the stranger before banking a quick left. “Oh shit —“ Is all the man manages while raising his right arm, taking shaky aim at the blond, some sort of liquid ejects from his fingertips? Mirio makes it look so incredibly easy to dodge, the inky black substance lands somewhere in the shadows. Forgotten. The man does not get a second shot. An earth shattering blow lands under his chin and you swear you hear an echoing crack of bone against bone. And just like that it’s over — Or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Anyone would be knocked unconscious by the sheer force. But Mirio doesn’t stop. What if I told you I don’t want you to go? Those are the words that come to mind as your E/C eyes follow Mirios fist. Over and over again it connects with the strangers face. Time slows like some form of torture, you watch the man take each crushing blow. As you watch the blonds knuckles begin to turn a dark crimson. And you do nothing but stand frozen, a bystander, a participant. Even the ability to speak is lost to you. Only when the terrible sound of blood starts to bubble up from the man’s throat does Mirio finally release his white-knuckled grip from the shirts collar. Without the Alphas hold the unconscious body rag-dolls to the pavement below. God, does the sickening thud make you shudder in disgust. Now it’s just you — And the man who has only ever showered you with warmth and overbearing kindness. Towering over the bloody pulp of a man he stands with his back towards you, chest heaving as he attempts to recapture his breathing. Your mind is so vary far away right now but somehow, somewhere in your anxiety riddled state are you able to produce a single cohesive repeating thought. It’s something that comes so naturally it almost terrifies you, you might even loath yourself later for it... You cannot help but be frightened, not for the beaten man lying against the cold pavement, no your fears are for Mirios safety. For his sake. When he turns to face you you’re met with the burning blue of the ocean. And within seconds you swear you see the raging sea already starting to simmer. Your feet stay planted as your hero takes the first step towards you. Even if your life depended on it you’re not sure you’d be able to move an inch — Though it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? By the time you notice he’s practically all over you, but there is an invisible wall of tension that keeps him from touching. With the back of your shoulders pressed against the brick wall there is no escape from the cage of muscle surrounding you, thick forearms having rooted themselves on either side of your head. Every instinct screams at you, to run, to submit, to hide, to do anything useful. Maybe you’re broken. Instead, you find yourself entranced, E/C eyes trace along the scars of those very forearms keeping you trapped. The healed skin darkened where deep gashes once bled. Following the perfect blemishes to the meat of his shoulders you accidentally meet deep iris pools, completely and utterly awestruck. The expression Mirio wears is one you’ve never seen before. You want to tell yourself that it’s the shadows casted down by the looming cities walls — Or that’s it’s just the dark clouds raining down on you. But... You’re having a difficult time convincing yourself. “Are you hurt?” A low breathless whisper pulls you from muddy waters, dredged up from the murky depths of your mind. Was that Mirios voice? He’s close, so close, his ragged breathes ghost across the bare skin of your neck. Your eyes fall to the filthy lot concrete, where you’re barely able to make out the motionless mans shape. Why is it so hard to see? You hadn’t even noticed your eyes gloss over, fat tears already rolling down your cheeks. “M-Mirio you —“ The pain in your voice has his chest twisting in agony. Sharp thorns digging into the delicate flesh. Seeing you like this hurts worse than the searing ache in his knuckles. But it’s okay. Because you’re safe. The thin threads holding him back finally fray and snap. Mirios arms abandon the wall behind you, pulling you flush against his broad chest, muscled arms wrapped around your frame. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” His head rests atop your own, you feel his lips move against your locks as he continues to reassure you. “I’ll always be here — I promise.” You won’t ever have to be worry again. Being held only makes the flood tears worse, when your body melts against his so does the last bit pf willpower holding the dam together. Slowly you begin to hiccup into his shirt, your arms shakily wrapping around his neck, falling further into the embrace you feel his arms tighten. And now your balling in a empty public restaurant parking lot with a bloody unconscious body only a few yards away. The dying rain isn’t strong enough to wash away the scent of copper. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ Blinding red and blue lights flash across the cities walls. When you speak with the police — Well actually, it’s not so much you speaking with them as it is you listening to Mirio tell them the details of what happened and offering a weak nod when they wanted your input. You haven’t spoken much since exhausting your lungs and draining a lakes worth of tears onto Mirios shirt. His eyes keep darting to meet yours between every couple of words. You watch on as the blond speaks clearly and calmly with the officers, you envy his ability to do so. He’s even able to smile as if nothing happened — You finally tear your eyes away, choosing to look at a lone anthill, inches from your foot. The weight of his jacket keeps you semi-warm as you stand under the overhang of Nabezos, the smell of ocean and sun clings to the leather, you pull the fabric tighter around your shoulders. You had watched as three first responders wheeled the stretcher to the waiting ambulance. As soon as its doors slammed shut the siren blared to life and the vehicle sped away. It was a good sign you tell yourself. A sign that the man was alive. The invisible weight on your shoulder lifts, if only by a hair. “Do you need a ride home?” The question snaps you from staring at the pavement. A male officer, possibly a Beta? It’s hard to tell in the rain, he has kind eyes. There’s no time for you to search for an answer before a firm hand finds itself planted the deputies shoulder. Mirio now stands behind the rather startled man, all smiles of course. Though something about the curve of his lips doesn’t sit well with you.  “That would be great actually, can you give the both of us a ride?” It takes you a second to realize he’s answering for you. “We’re both headed the same direction.” “Of c-course.” The officer shakes away his initial fright by the time he finishes speaking. And you still have yet to process what’s happening. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ Sitting in the back of a police car was not how you anticipated your night ending — And certainly not with Mirios arms wrapped around you all the while. You’re not sure how you got here. But what you are sure of is that there isn’t an inch of you that doesn’t smell like the Alpha. He’s been scenting you ever since entering the vehicle, practically pulling you into his lap. It’s not so uncommon amongst friends — Although, you’re no longer just friends, are you? His hand could wrap around your wrist two times over. The blond has a delicate touch as he traces the pad of his thumb over your skin, he holds you as though you’re porcelain. The entire time your eyes are glued to the red busted skin of his knuckles. An uncomfortable clearing of a throat breaks the moment. You had almost forgotten about the police officer who so politely offered the ride home. You blame it on overactive instincts, that this is probably the norm, it’s a lousy excuse and you know it. And a part of you, one that you’re desperately trying to drown under the surface until there is no oxygen left, knows instincts are not the only thing at play here.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ When Mirio told you he’d be staying the night at your place you thought it had been an offer. Not a fact. You remind yourself that you know Mirio. Know that he would never hurt you, that he’s only looking out for you. That’s why you agreed. 

So what if your every attempt to convince him you’d be fine staying alone was disregarded. Right? 

You stare into the mirror, letting the sink fill with water. Paying no attention to the temperature you soak a hand towel into the ice cold liquid. Bringing the damp fabric under your eyes you wipe away the last remnants of tears marks. The soft knock on the door startles you from your haze, looking over you notice the shadow of what can only be a pair of feet peeking under the thin frame of wood. “Are you okay?” Mirios voice may be muffled behind the wood but it’s impossible to ignore the worry bled into every syllable. “Yeah.” Your own voice is still raspy from your crying, it reminds you how weak you truly are. “Just give me a few minutes... Okay?” “I’m here.” What you can’t see is the large hand pressed into the creases of door. “When you’re ready.” The outside noise seems to die down with that and you listen to the static of the running water as you strip out of your soaked clothing, peeling the wet material from your skin. The jacket that had kept you warm now hangs off the tubs edge. ... Mirio stands guarding the entrance of the restroom. Like a good boyfriend. Foot tapping nervously against the carpeted floor. This is all so new, usually the hero is in full control of his actions. But now — Every passing second is another nail plunged into his coffin, he might have really screwed up big time... And just when the two of you had finally become official. He doesn’t know what took over. But he does. When saw you cornered by some low life — He only remembers the feel of white hot burning rage coursing his veins and the look of terror in your eyes. He really dropped the ball hadn’t he? He doesn’t regret it. Not even for a second, he’d do it again, for you. His only regret is scaring you. Suddenly his foot stops its anxious drumming. It becomes apparent to him that — With you in the bathroom he has full range of your dorm, unsupervised. Not that he would do anything fishy, of course not! It’s just the first time he’ll get to appreciate your little temporary home. 

A glimpse at the future you’ll share.

Waiting by the door for another minute he takes the first experimental step away from his post, waiting with bated breath. Nothing. The only sound is the continuous running of a faucet. It’s the only sign he needs to continue onwards, down the hallway. By all means it’s not a long journey, in only a few of feet does the blond find himself in front of a cracked door, a dim light streams through the gap. With a featherlight touch he pushes it open to reveal what he’d hoped for. Your bedroom. He’s not disappointed, the room is so very you. It smells like you. Even when Mirio’s absolutely drained he can’t help but admire every little detail, even down to the lone sock lying forgotten in the center of the floor. A tired smile makes its way to his lips as he goes to pick it up, tossing it in the hamper sitting only a few feet away, a smile resting pretty on his features all the while. How forgetful you were. He doesn’t mind this, in fact quite the opposite — He can’t help think it’s quite domestic. Who knew he’d windup such a hopeless romantic? Before the blond knows it he starts to wonder what living together would be like. It really can’t be helped.

Mirio can almost envision you seated at his table waiting while he cooks your favorite meal, it might take him a couple of tries to nail but he’s anything if not persistent — Or perhaps, waking up to morning kisses with your legs tangled in knots. Maybe one day a couple of children that share both your and his qualities pop into the picture. He understands how silly it is all is, that he can’t help but feel as though he’s already been living this life with you. Too bad it doesn’t last. The sweetest of daydreams are cut to shreds when blue eyes catch the unmistakable flash orange and white of a bottle. On your nightstand are your suppressants, sitting carelessly for all to see. After staring for what is probably considered far longer than normal a not so innocent thought just sort of floats its way into his system and... Suddenly Mirio’s being crushed under the weight of something tremendous and hideous. Guilt. He could never. Everything’s falling into place, just the way it’s meant to. But — Some stranger had basically gone and flipped his world upside down in the matter of seconds. That drunk bastard leaning in close you, probably whispering dirty words to you... His fist clenches into a tight ball, knuckles still burn from the impact of skin against skin. God only knows what that creep was gonna do? That filth had tried to take you from him, there is no mistaking. Was it some sort of cruel joke, turning the best day of his life into one of the worst? A bead of sweat breaks along his brow as blue eyes continue to stare down the bottle of white pills. Fear has got Mirio in a chokehold and right now it’s a losing battle. You are someone he wants — No, needs to protect, that’s why he can’t stop but think... What would he do without you? He doesn’t notice his fingers have started moving on their own volition. Mirio cannot picture a world without you.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch. 16

A/N: As always, written with the beautiful, lovely amazing @mox-made-me-do-it​ . Sorry it took so long guys!

Chapter 16: Adam

           I stayed on the swim deck all night with a bottle of Jack Daniels. I listened to Dan and Shay on an endless loop—hoping to make myself sick of it. Every note made me think of Allie, of the way she felt in my arms, of the scent of her hair and her skin. I tried to stop the thoughts, the memories. Tried to force myself to hate the music pouring through my speakers. My chest ached. I wanted to chuck the whole goddamn stereo in the water.

           Allie’s face swam in my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine what Allie was going through. She had just had her entire life turned on its head. Thrust upside down in a split second. Here I was trying to lay on my best moves. The woman had come all the way to Bora Bora to forget the pain of what happened to her, to reawaken her happiness. Not to find some new hook up. She’d come here with Leigh, to be with Leigh.

           It was time for me to take a step back. To give her the space she so obviously wanted.

           The empty bottle hit the deck with a clink. The swim deck swayed, churning my stomach. I tried to focus on the stars and the moon burning bright in the sky, but the bobbing made it hard to focus on anything. It took a minute or two to pull myself up to standing. I stumbled up the steps to the main deck, trying my best not to fall over. I’d no more than stepped inside than Kenny appeared from the other side of the bungalow.

           “Man, I’m sorry,” I slurred, banging into the back of the sofa as I went. “About tonight. You don’t know how much I didn’t want to knock on that door.”

           I made it to the minibar, slinging the empty bottle on the counter. I leaned heavily against the wall, hoping to regain my balance. “How’d it go?”

           “Come on, Hanger,” Kenny said with a faint smile. He stood by the door, one shoulder against the wall. “A guy’s got to have his secrets.”

           I smirked, words forming on the tip of my tongue. Words that I knew were too hurtful to say.

           Kenny looked me over. “Did you drink that whole bottle tonight?” He was clearly trying to change the subject. “What happened over here?

           I let him. “Dude, I don’t even know. Everything was perfect,” I replied, thinking of every second of those moments together. “We were dancing over there and I was just about to kiss her and then the song changed. She froze, I turned around, and she bolted. She didn’t come here for some hook up. I need to stop.”

           Kenny moved closer, his eyes wary. I opened the minifridge with one hand, picked up and waved the empty bottle with the other. “And no, smart ass, I made this bottle last all day. But I feel like I need another one.” I pulled out another bottle—this time of Maker’s Mark—and swayed on my feet. “But come on, man. One of us had to get some tonight. Did you get her to make any cute noises? Get your dick sucked?”

           I realized pretty quickly that I was rambling, spilling out bullshit while Jack ran through my blood. For a minute, I felt like I was going to puke. “Dude…”

           The next thing I knew, pain bloomed up along my chin. I hit the ground hard, the wind rushing out of me in a huff. My vision blurred for half a second. The nausea rolled back over me as I tried to get to my feet. I was hardly up on my knees when Kenny’s fist slammed into my jaw just below my ear. My ears rang. I didn’t know which way was up.

           “What the fuck man?” I shouted as I pulled myself to my feet. God, I felt like I was going to puke. “What’s your problem?”

           “You,” Kenny spat, his fist already curling for another blow. “Your drunk ass is my problem.”

           I shoved him back as hard as I could. “I’m the problem? You can’t even have a hook up right! Her hair wasn’t even messed up. It’s not like you were stormin’ the fucking beaches when I showed up.”

           “You have no clue what was going on,” he replied. He shook out his hand. “So shut your goddamn mouth and go sleep it off.”    

           I should have taken his advice. A sober me probably would have. But Jack wasn’t much in the mood to be a good guy. My palm ran over the places where I knew bruises would be blooming by tomorrow.

           “What was it, huh, Ken?” I spat. “Couldn’t get it up? Not as big a fan of the girls anymore? All talk and no action, aren’t you?”

           Oh, Christ, I was an idiot. I knew it. I could feel it, but there was no stopping the Jack once it did its thing.

           “Poor pitiful Kenny,” I whined. My feet were a little more solid under my feet. I squared up, knowing that it was a horrible fucking idea. “Nobody loves me. I can’t fuck Leigh. Kota left me. Boo fucking hoo. Jesus, do you ever wonder why?”

           It was a shitty thing to say. I knew that it wasn’t fair to bring up Kota. That was a button pushed too far.

           For a minute, I didn’t think he’d say anything. He just stood there, staring at me. I was watching his face. I should’ve been watching his hands.

           “Son of a bitch,” Kenny yelled. He started swinging, not caring. I dodged one or two of the blows, but he hit me again on the jaw below the ear. I couldn’t hear for the longest time. My balance gave out.

           Before thirty seconds had gone by, he’d clipped me twice more on the jaw and then popped me one massive time in the solar plexus. My chest locked up. Kenny moved faster and hit harder than anyone I’d ever met. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d broken my ribs. He yelled at me but I couldn’t make out a word of it. When he was pissed, he shouted in Japanese. But I understood “mother fucker” when I heard it.

           I couldn’t catch my breath no matter how hard I tried. Kenny had punched me so hard that it was like having my chest caved in. Lungs popped. Like a fucking fish on a deck. A spike of rage bloomed through me. For a split second, Jack turned that rage into hate. I hated Kenny Omega.

           Before the thought could take root, I gasped in a heavy breath and held up my hands to defend myself. “Dude… Ken… stop!” His fist swung out one more time, clipping me across the cheek. Kenny stood over me, his hands clenched into fists, one of his knuckles busted open. “I’m sorry.”

           Kenny looked down, the brightness in his eyes fading as the fight went out of him. He choked in a breath and then stretched out his hand to help me up. We stood face to face, watching each other with uncertain eyes. I could already feel my cheek swelling, pain lancing up beneath my left eye. I’d have a shiner for sure.

           “I didn’t mean that,” I said warily. Fuck, my face hurt. “That was the Jack talking.”

           He turned away, the expression on his face clouded. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. Hell, even I couldn’t tell if I believed me. “Sleep it off, Adam,” he said before walking toward the bathroom.

           He’d barely made it two steps when the door nearly shook off the hinges. Loud thumping knocks vibrated through the air. Kenny pulled the door open, and Allie and Leigh pushed past him.

           “What the hell is going on in here?!” Allie shouted, hands on her hips.

           Shit, I thought, heart pounding, we were loud enough for them to hear us. FUCK!

           Her eyes widened when she had half a second to take in my face. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She glared at Kenny from the corner of her eye, and I couldn’t help but smile. I’d seen her take fire when Leigh’s ex had been on the phone that first day. I could only imagine what kind of hell she would give Kenny for what he’d just done.

           Allie turned toward Leigh, pulling the other girl closer by the wrist. I had a brief flash of when Ken and I had walked in on them. Jack made me think a couple things I shouldn’t have. I looked away and caught Kenny’s eye in the process. He raised his hands and backed away, as if he didn’t have anything else to say to me.

           I watched as Leigh slid her fingers around Kenny’s wrist and pulled him toward the door. He relaxed at her touch, the anger fading from his face almost instantaneously. She smiled, her whole face changing when she looked at him. Her eyes were bright, face upturned as if she were waiting for him to lean down and kiss her.

           I’m an ass, I thought bitterly. Kenny was easy to love. He was loved. By the woman standing right in front of him.

           Kenny let Leigh lead him back out into the night, leaving me along with Allie.

Tag List: 

@mox-made-me-do-it @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @lilred91 @unabashedwrestlefics

[lemonietrinket]

played salty, playing sweet ||| seonghwa x reader

summary: you and seonghwa have a frenemies relationship—you’re friends, but boy do you bicker 24/7. one day though, seonghwa takes it a step too far. genre: angst! fluff at the end bc happy endings! warning(s): foul language at someone (2x f**k, 2x a**hole), a remark that makes fun of someone’s intelligence word count: 2390 an: sorry this is a bit late anon! i hope it was worth the wait though, i didn’t want to give you something that wasn’t quite good enough, so i figured an extra day wouldn’t hurt too much in the long term

~~~

“well at least i didn’t fail one of the easiest exams in the year.”

seonghwa had said it with a humorous glint in his eye. he’d turned away from you, watching the world outside go by aimlessly, all because he couldn’t handle looking at you too long, lest his heart fall out of his chest. you’d already caught him blushing once. it had been while eating ice cream in the park with hongjoong, when he’d spontaneously decided to tag along. as the drizzle rolled back yet left the odd heat behind, you’d made a mad dash for the truck, longing to do what you hadn’t done in so long. once the chocolate was in your hands, you had dived in while not paying attention, eyes fluttering off to the side to listen to hongjoong (seonghwa couldn’t remember what it was about, no doubt the exaggerated hundredth challenge eden had made him do back in predebut) and ended up with a dollop on your nose. the guffaw that fell from your lips was adorable, as you cackling, “what an idiot!” all while seonghwa stood, mesmerised by your happiness. he wished he could make it happen more often, and yet all that he could ever say was teasing remarks, which only ever worked on the odd occasion. 

trapped in his memory, the corners of his lips, that had risen to the point he was very nearly laughing all over, again didn’t twitch as his head whipped round at the slam of a door. 

eyes wary, seemingly aware of the wave of chaos that was about to crash upon the dorms, he looked to where you had been, and then nervously about the rest of the living room.

“y/n?”

there was no sign of you. all that his eyes met was the disappointed glare of his bandmate, slouched and curled so small on the sofa he was entirely easy to miss.

“you gone fucked up, hwa,” hongjoong announced simply to him.

“what...?” he stared at him, elfin eyes wide watching him closely. all while he himself was still lagging behind. “wait what—”

“you should go after them.”

his face fell into stony fear as the dread sank into the pit of his stomach, as heavy as lead. the jigsaw pieces began to slowly fit together. “go after...? but, they...”

he looked back to the empty archway where your beautiful figure had been just seconds prior, a baggy clashing jumper pulled over mustard sleeves and a black denim pinafore. it wasn’t your favourite outfit, he knew that, but he had to admit it was one of his.  not that he’d ever gotten close to admitting a sliver of those thoughts to you. he’d never even harmlessly complimented you on it. or anything you wore, for that matter. 

“let me put it this way hwa. if you don’t go and treat my best friend right for once i will make you.”

he knew that the leader was pulling his stern-dad-face that wasn’t convincing nor terrifying in the slightest, but seonghwa didn’t care. he was too busy cursing and leaping to his feet. he didn’t even bid him goodbye as he tore past. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

you sat hunched on the park bench, wrung iron icy at your back while the sun seemed desperate to vex you, piercing through a convenient gap in the clouds and straight into your eyes.

with shudders heaving through your body your fist remained tight at your mouth. the faint hisses of your frantically silenced cries were growing louder and stronger, and yet the woman strolling with a push chair down the path nearby still did not retrieve her child from the old-fashioned pavilion. 

you shook your head slowly as you curled over, your forehead meeting your knees in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. the last thing you needed was a genuinely concerned stranger--their kindness would have you all-out balling like a child in an instant.

still, it would all come out at some point, in one form of another, and despite your wishes you didn’t get to dictate when. 

“why would you say that, why would you say that, why would you say that,” you wailed in a whisper to yourself, the face of the man who had spoken engraved in your mind beyond erasure. maybe it was the place you were in that made it so strong, since this had been the place where you had eaten ice cream during the summer. despite all of your doubts and worries and constant analysis of the words he teased you with, there was no other explanation to the smile he had that day. there was no teasing in the way he grinned, nor was there anything less than sheer tenderness within it, and it was the one thing that held you tethered to whether you could be more than just the bantering friends you clearly already were. on the other hand, maybe it was just your lovesick state, exaggerating the tiny inflections of incessantly replayed memories, as the latest thing he’d said surely would cancel all that sweetness out. 

a whimper released from your throat and you very nearly fell over the knife edge when your name was called over the late october air. 

your head flew up before you could stop it, gaze bleary and encrusted with tears as the voice you heard lifted your spirits, only to let them plummet again like a rollercoaster. 

he was running across the grass towards you, no coat to cover his arms, dark locks blustered about his face by the wind, before his feet were pounding the paving, coming to a slow and then a stop. 

“y/n, i—”

as soon as he was stood before you, catching his breath with blushed cheeks and his onyx eyes searching yours, all those cries that you had blockaded within you burst through. 

“you fucking asshole!” you screamed, words choked with sobs as you lurched to your feet. “you asshole! why the hell would you even go there?!” 

seonghwa looked more winded than you did, heart crushed at what he’d done to you. 

“do you forget i have feelings or something?!” you cried. your nails dug into your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your body beginning to shoot only up to your head. “do you know how hard i worked to study for that... that stupid... paper, i—”

it felt like all the blood in your body was trapped inside your skull at that moment. the realisation of rest of the world around you hit square in your gut, and your words gave way much like your feet did, leaving you to collapsed back onto the bench, your voice only giving sound to quiet sobs. 

for a minute, he stood at the other side of the path in silence, guilt eating him up as he looked at the consequences of his cowardice.  hongjoong’s words echoed in his head, as he despaired. there’s no way she’ll like you back now, he thought. taking a deep breath however, he made his way cautiously over to you, one step at a time. it was his fault, and it was time to take responsibility. he could still fix this situation, and that was much more important.

“y/n, i am so sorry,” he began gently, “back when your results came, i saw you smiling about it, laughing it off, i thought it was fair game...”

he reached the edge of the bench and the space left. it was big enough for him to fit, almost perfectly, but he continued to stand, a little distant to give you space. “i’m sorry, i should have listened to my intuition more, been more careful, should’ve paid closer attention.”

no matter how afraid i am to, he added in his head. 

“i never meant to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean that it’s... all ok,” he finished, apologising once again, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he nervously waited for any response.

even with your head bowed you were absolutely stunning, how your hair caught the bright autumn sun and accentuated the beautiful face he knew so well. tear stained only made the urge to hold you stronger, to make you laugh more powerful.  how had he gotten into this mess.

“why did you have to say that, seonghwa?” your words were threadbare, lilting like distant birdsong made up only of mountain echoes. your tears had not quite dried, cheeks rosy from the wind and his mistake, but your breath was more stable. “why do you always have to tease me? why can’t you... just say the nice things, the sweet things?” 

he wasn’t aware of just how much of a leap you had made, and how your heart threatened to burst from your ribs at the dangers you had proposed for yourself. with fortune on your side however, they did not come, and seonghwa continued, discarding the urge to back down against what he had done for so long prior.

“i want to say them, i always do,” he explained hesitantly, trying to push through the murk of the truth and continue with the revelation he had discovered, “i was just... so afraid.”

“of what?”

your question was so simple and yet he couldn’t answer straight away. swallowing thickly, with it heavy upon his tongue, he tried his best. “of you not liking me back. of being made to look like an idiot for thinking i had...”

the wind rustled the trees who gossiped about the scene below by their roots. your eyes glanced up to see the mother and child nowhere to be found and you couldn’t help but wonder at what point they decided to leave, or whether they fled from the drama at all.  you didn’t dwell on it though, there was no way you could with your crush stood waiting patiently for you to speak. he looked much like a kicked puppy, though he was trying to retain his cool by avoiding your gaze fully. although, he never looked away.

“you looked like an idiot anyway,” you finally answered, waiting for him to respond with a retort and assume everything was ok. but he didn’t. he remained quiet, waiting for you to finish. “just for a different reason.”

he nodded at that. 

it never truly dawned on you that the play that you were enacting was actually for one, a confession, and two, real. that wouldn’t actually come until you opened your eyes an hour later after falling asleep upon that bench. instead, you continued to drift through reality, flowing with what felt right.

catching onto the fact he was waiting for your call, you shifted just slightly across the bench to beckon him to sit.

he perched on the edge of the iron at your side, a fair distance between you as he finally tore his eyes away, letting them settle across the small hills of the park. there wasn’t anyone in sight, the sun having gone in and leaving the cold to continue its infiltration into your bones.  

thus, you shuffled across the bench, a fair bit in reality that he didn’t notice until the very end, when you were about to lean into to him.

“y/n...?”

you rested your head on his shoulder, the warmth he seeped reigniting your icy skin and fending off the numbness that had taken root there without you knowing. it felt natural to be there, laying against him, and he seemed to think so too, as he made no effort at all to stop you. in fact, he shifted himself further back, giving you more room, and let out the air he had gathered in his lungs for a blow he never received.  

“i like...” you began, though you were stopped by the need to clear your throat, your sobbing having left it dry, “your leather jacket, back home. it looks so comfortable and... badass.”

you felt him look down to you, though you made no effort to crane your neck up to see what his expression was. you were quite comfortable enough where you were. soon though, he caught on. “i like your outfit today. it suits you really well.”

the joyous rush seonghwa felt after complimenting you was ineffable.

“your voice is really good. it’s so soft and clear.”

“i think your laugh is sweet. it’s adorable and i can’t help but smile when you i hear it.”

“i think you’re cute.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

a chill caught your shoulders and a shiver melded with your shy giggle that followed his words. within moments though, his arm is around you, holding you closer, protecting you from the autumn cold. it felt so right to finally be nice to one another, and tiredly staring off at the buffering canopies beyond, you regretted all the time you had wasted dancing around the subject in favour of the status quo. 

“isn’t this much better?” you murmured finally, glancing up to catch a glimpse of hi handsome face at a new angle. “playing sweet?”

he peered down to meet you, a small smile upon his plush lips. it wasn’t as grand as the one on that bright summer’s afternoon, but it felt sincere all the same—etched with nerves from where he had bitten anxiously, teasing at his cheeks, a box grin in the making. 

his hand, somehow hot against the approaching winter, rose to softly rest against your temple. he traced spirals into your skin there, delicately as if the wind could brush them away, before lifting to the corner of your eye. you’d long since finished crying, your eyes and nose tinted rouge—it would have been something that you would’ve been ashamed of, but the man’s doting caress was enough to push it far from your mind. despite the disappearance of your sorrow, the chrysalis of a tear, near complete, resided there. and so he wiped it away with the tip of his thumb.

shy at his touch, you ducked your head away from his tenderness, choosing to bury your nose in his neck instead. you felt his laugh roll through you, deep and calming, as his arms held you secure at his chest. and there, in the face of the cold autumn, you decided that you could stay like that for a bit longer.

~~~

an: idk if i like this yet. probably not.

once again i wrote this in drabble format thinking it would be short but then it was not. like always. why am i even surprised. 

masterlist

[s-horne]

Stony and maybe superfamily au, when tony died he became a star(a star like a god or celestial being of a star) and can only come to vist at night. It's bittersweet, but steve and peter are always glad to see him.

7.30pm

“You ready, kid?”

Steve closed his book and put it down on the table at the end of the couch. He looked over to see Peter standing in the doorway, dressed in his pyjamas and swiping at his eyes.

Steve had the urge to bundle his son into a hug and hold him close, to try and hide him away from the pain of the world as though he were a young, inexperienced child.

“Yeah.” Peter’s voice was rough with sleep. Even though it had been years, there were times when Steve still couldn’t get used to hearing Peter’s deep voice. Peter was still a child to him. He shouldn’t have a deep, low voice like an adult. He was too young to be an adult. “You?”

“Yeah. Blankets are in the car already and the coffee is just about ready.”

“Awesome. Want me to grab your coat?”

Steve heaved himself off the couch with a groan. “Please. And I had a sweater somewhere.”

“By the door already. The blue jeep?”

“No, black. Your–,” Steve paused and coughed. “We’ll take your dad’s.”

“Right. Sick. Can I drive?”

Steve snorted. “Not a chance, kid. I’ll drive. You can pick the music.”

A deep sigh left Peter, but his lips curved upwards anyway. “Fine. Guess that’s a fair trade.”

“Go get your coat,” Steve said with a fond roll of his yes. “You terror.”

 *

9.00pm

It wasn’t a long drive out of the city, from where they’d moved. They tried to make it once a month, battles permitting, just to wait and see if their star would appear. More often than not, it didn’t, and Steve and Peter would wake up huddled together on their picnic blanket with empty flasks of coffee and snack wrappers at their sides, hearts just as hollow.

“Usual spot?” Steve asked, heaving two portable chairs from the jeep’s trunk and slinging them over his shoulder.

Peter gave him a scornful look. “Like we’d ever go anywhere else.”

They’d picked their spot after many months of deliberation. For the first year, they had visited the countryside nearly every two days, checking out different spots to see which gave them the clearest sight of a completely uninterrupted night sky. They’d decided on the clearing at the top of the second hill around the first of Tony’s birthdays that they’d had to celebrate without him.

It was the most beautiful spot; lush and green in the summer and wonderfully frosty in the winter. When it was bitterly cold and snowing, they didn’t stay out all night long, going back a few times a month instead of just once and huddling around a small camp fire.

Despite the bitter temperatures, the winter sky was Steve’s favourite. It was so much darker, a deep, almost shining black that stretched with no end in sight. The stars that shone were like specks of glitter, standing indifferently but able to be connected to a neighbour to create bold outlines of famous constellations.

It made sense that Tony was among them, Steve thought. Not for the first time, either. It was one of his most common thoughts when he just sat back and stared up above him.

*

10.15pm

“Reckon he’ll come out tonight?” Peter asked, hands wrapped tightly around his flask of coffee. He had taken his coat off, but had a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. His shoes were off already and his socked feet shuffled on the picnic blanket.

“I don’t know.” Steve wishes he had a way of predicting when Tony would appear for them, but science had always been his husband’s thing. Not his. “Sorry, kid.”

Peter shrugged as he reached into his bag, fishing around for a bit before removing a bag of Cheetos with a triumphant cry.

“No worries. Hey, did I tell you about my meeting at SHIELD on Wednesday? No? Right, so, Ms. Hill was there with…”

*

11.42pm

Peter had fallen asleep somewhere around the 11pm mark, his hands clutching a bag of Twizzlers and his face half-obstructed by the cover for his foldable chair. The sight left a smile permanently etched on Steve’s face.

The wind had started to pick up a little, but Steve was content to stay there, watching. Waiting. Keeping guard over his boys as he waited ever so patiently for his love to return to him. He had time.

All the time in the world.

*

1.00am

“Oh!” Peter cried suddenly, voice a little hoarse with sleep. “We missed it. Crap, sorry!” Peter threw himself at Steve, hugging him tightly. “Damn, was I asleep? I was, wasn’t I?”

Steve chuckled softly, holding Peter tight. “Don’t worry, kid. You needed it.”

Peter pulled back slowly. “Happy birthday,” he said, looking at Steve as he sat back into his own chair. “I hope you get everything you want. I didn’t bring your present out here. Thought we could go out for dinner tonight and I’ll give it to you then.”

Putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, Steve nodded. “Thanks, Pete. But you’re here with me right now so, I’m good.”

*

1.14am

“Snap!”

Steve laughed at the outrage on Peter’s face.

“That was mine,” Peter cried, reaching for the pile of cards that Steve took for himself.

“You wish,” Steve snorted, whipping them out of Peter’s grasp. “You’ll have to be quicker than that, Spidey-boy.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed and he leant forward, Tony’s fierce determination written all over his face. “Bring it, old man.”

* 

2.23am

Steve reached down and gently pushed some of Peter’s hair away from his face. When Peter’s nose screwed up and he batted the hand away as though it were a pest, Steve laughed.

“I tried to be nice,” he said before he dug his toes into the soft flesh below Peter’s ribs.

Peter squealed and rolled to his side, eyes suddenly wide open.

“Oh, my God. What’s happening? Are we being attacked?” Peter sat up, looking around him. There was a red patch on his cheek where he’d been lying on the rough material of the chair cover and his hair was a mess.

Steve wished his baby wasn’t so damn old.

“No, you stupid boy. Wake up. You might want to see this.”

In an instant, Peter spun around and almost gave himself whiplash as he threw his head backwards to stare up at the sky.

“Where – I can’t, wait. No, I can’t see it. Can you – oh.”

Peter’s voice trailed off, sounding a little choked up and Steve could sympathise.

“I take it you’ve found him?”

Steve had. It had been almost a year since Steve had last seen Tony’s star, but there he was. Brighter than Steve had remembered, but just as big and as attention-grabbing as Tony had been in real life.

“Hey, dad,” Peter whispered and Steve felt his heart constrict and then grow twice its size. “Good to see you.”

They lapsed into silence, both of them staring up at the sky with equal looks of awe written across their faces. Memories of their time together flooded Steve’s brain; pictures of them laughing at the camera, snapshots of Peter with Tony throughout their lives, from child through to teenager. It pained Steve that he would never have a new sight to commit to memory. 

Soon, the memories got too much for him and he felt like he was drowning. His heart was almost too big for his chest and he felt as though he were about to explode. 

“Tony,” he murmured, relief and love hitting him all at once. “God, how I’ve missed you.”

Tony’s star seemed to shine brighter somehow, sending rays of light into a wide circle around itself. 

“I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight. I hoped, just like I hope every night.”

Beside him, Peter was quiet. Steve knew that he had a raft of things to tell Tony. Even though they had had a small memorial garden set up for Tony shortly after his funeral, it was always a different feeling to speak to Tony’s star. It wasn’t quite Tony himself, but it was close enough.

“You look beautiful, Tony,” Steve said, leaning back in his chair and drinking in his fill of his husband. “So, so beautiful.”

“He’s bright,” Peter commented. His voice sounded a little choked up. “Brighter than last time.”

“He’s making up for the months he missed.” Steve reached out without looking and curled his hand over Peter’s shoulders. “Was just storing up all of his strength.”

“I missed him. Miss him.”

“I know, kid.” Steve didn’t even want to blink, didn’t want to look away from Tony for even half a second. “I miss him as well. But we still have a piece of him. However small.”

*

4.56 am

“–and so that’s why Carol isn’t allowed in the accounts department of SHIELD.”

Steve had heard the story a hundred times in a hundred different retellings by a hundred different people, but he chuckled nonetheless. It was the way that Peter told it that really got to him; the way that he went off on small tangents and spoke in such a way that was entirely reminiscent of Tony. 

Peter’s voice was nearly hoarse with talking for however long straight. It was clear that he was making the most of having Tony around, even high in the sky and thousands of lightyears away. 

Suddenly, Peter yawned widely. “Man, I’m not as young as I was,” he said, stretching his arms up over his head and wincing. 

Snorting, Steve rolled his neck. “You’re not the only one.” He didn’t have much to show for his old age, but he felt it. He felt even older whenever he noticed how old Peter was or when it hit him that yet another year had passed without Tony by his side. 

“Oh, I never told dad about Rhodey! Right, so get this,” Peter said, turning away from Steve and settling back down on the picnic blanket, looking up at the sky again. His eyes found Tony’s star easily and he sunk into his tale, face animated and hands flying through the air to punctuate his story. 

It was another tale that Steve had already heard, but he was more than content to lie back and let Peter’s voice wash over him. Life, in that moment, was very close to perfect. As perfect as it would ever be again.

*

5.28am

The sun had started to rise. It was the moment they’d been dreading all night – or, well, morning. Soon, Tony would fade into the bright sky, his light blending in with the yellows and oranges that would streak across the cloudless horizon.

“That was longer than last time, right?” Peter asked, voice quiet and a little broken. “Seemed to go a lot quicker, though.”

“Yeah.” Steve didn’t turn his head, choosing instead to continue looking up at his favourite star until he could see it no more. He knew his eyes would start to burn as the sun got higher and higher, but he couldn’t bear to look away. “It did.”

Lapsing into silence again, they listened instead to the dawn chorus and the breeze picking up through the trees behind them. They knew they only had around two more minutes before the sun rose fully and the stars were no longer visible.

“He’ll still be there, won’t he?”

Steve smiled despite the lump in his throat. “Of course he will. He’s always there. You just can’t see him.”

“Can talk to him, though.”

“Course.”

The sky was alight with colour. White faded into a pale yellow, which in turn shone into a deep orange and blended out until eventually the sky was finally blue.

“Goodnight,” Steve couldn’t stop himself from whispering, not caring how his voice broke. Peter sniffed beside him and Steve noticed out of the corner of his eye how Peter turned away and busied himself with tidying up. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I’ll see you again. Soon.”

There was a warmth that flowed through Steve and he knew that it had nothing to do with the rising sun. It went from his head to his heart and right down to his toes, flooding his body with a happiness he knew came from only one place.

Despite his very best efforts, there was a sadness there, too. As beautiful as the effect was, the light that the new dawn cast meant that the stars were entirely eclipsed.

No more Tony.

*

6.15am

There was no point in staying there for any longer, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to move. Even with Tony was gone from view, Steve still had Peter and a flask of almost-warm coffee left to drink.

“Another game of cards, Pete?”

“Sure.” Peter yawned so widely he nearly swallowed his head and Steve laughed loudly. “Oi! You may laugh, but I’m still awake enough to whip the pants off you.”

Steve snorted and shuffled to the edge of his chair, gesturing at the pack on the picnic blanket as Peter swivelled around to find it. “Prove it.”

*

6.59am

“What’s the rules about eating sugar for breakfast?”

Steve chuckled, not opening his eyes as he heard Peter rummaging around in one of their bags. “You’re an adult now, kiddo. Pretty sure I can’t tell you off for eating Twizzlers before 10am anymore. You’re in charge of your own teeth. Use your discretion wisely.”

“Right. Well, in which case, I’m using my discretion to say happy birthday.”

Steve peeked out of one eye, laughing and sitting upright when he saw what Peter was holding out to him. A chocolate cake clearly designed for only two people, twice the size of a single cupcake and no more. There was some lopsided icing threatening to slide right off its top onto the floor and a half-tied ribbon around it.

“In hindsight,” Peter said, “I probably shouldn’t have tried to make it myself.” He shrugged and handed it over to Steve, producing a knife from somewhere. “But it’s the thought that counts. Pretty sure Dad would agree.”

Smiling, Steve swallowed, turning the cake this way and that to have a good look at it from every angle. It definitely wasn’t an even shape and it seemed to be missing part of its base, but Steve’s heart could have beaten right out of his chest at the gesture.

“I’m sure he would,” he said, looking back up at Peter and feeling his smile grow. “It’s perfect. Good use of discretion, kid.”

“Happy birthday, Pops.”

Above them, a twinkle of light shone down, a tiny fleck of white in an otherwise perfectly blue sky.